#Shirt that says Ask Me About My OCs Parenting

[trollocs-ooc]

2 13 16

2. Already answered here, sort of

13.Do they enjoy poetry?

No, but that's cus i dont read poetry

16.Do they have or want kids?

Ok so trolls don't traditionally HAVE kids to raise, but apart from 2/11 I'll talk abt it like theyd be thinking about that at some point in life

Second and Eleven have Slashr, obviously. Second likes kids but is bad with them and Eleven doesnt like kids but is good with them. Second was thrilled to have Slashr to raise but Eleven did not want thst at all at first. He got used to it eventually though.

Slashr .... probably has a complicated thought process about it. They would know they wouldn't be a good parent.

Kullie would not want kids and would not be a good parent. She's supposed to be the baby.

TA should not be around kids.

The Dehorner, Twelve, The Man Himself. He is a very evil individual but on a paternal scale i feel like he'd actually be....decent? maybe somewhat good even? Not in instilling moral and good values, but in a caring/loving sense. He'd be good to his kids, and raise them with enough discipline to not be complete pieces of trash. He kind of has this grandpa relationship with Slashr that counts, i think. Slashr is an adult by the time they meet though, so Twelve can't exactly do much raising. He lets them be because they're their own adult that can take care of themselves and helps them out when they ask, and maybe murders some people when Slashr comes to his hive bleeding out a little too much, but that's about it. I DID CONSIDER Twelve having raised a child long before Slashr, but I'm kind of on the fence about it. (If you're curious, he would have acquired it by one of his servants somehow getting an offplanet grub and not wanting to cull it, so hed raise it. I mean violets live long as shit is the idea really that improbable?)

Balkantroll . NOPE they are well aware they cannot raise kids. They do not hate kids but they cannot be around them for too long, he has too short of a temper

Ruzmar. I feel like it would be good with kids but just wouldn't think abt it. If its partner wanted some it'd raise them but wouldn't really be something it'd go out of it's way for.

Whybie. Ok whybies a fucking teenager so let's assume it's the AU where they somehow live to adulthood and become emperor. Whybie would have such a weird ass outlook on reproducing. I cannot overstate how weird. Like i imagine theyd be fucking terrified of anyone finding out theyre not a real fuchsia after they already got everything they wanted, and if were going off the headcanon that...genetic material....has the same color as the blood, then they also wouldn't let anyone...see that. They'd have to have a partner they really actually trust to even like put their genes in a bucket. And even then theyd be terrified of making grubs with their mutated blood color, that would potentially get culled on sight, all because they decided to breed and make more "wrong" trolls. The thought of someone culling a baby with their blood color, that they made makes them physically sick.

But as a parent? An actual parent? Whybie would be fucking terrible. Not to the kids, but at raising them. Those would be the most spoiled fucking brats in the universe and you know for a fact whybie would not be self aware in the slightest. Or , they would be, they just wouldn't care. Yeah my kids are terrible, who cares? They're better than everyone, so why shouldn't they be? Oughhh rich person parenting but a million times worse. They would love the kids if they could actually have them, but they should not be parenting. The only universe in which i can see whybie not being a total awful parent, is the "i can fix them" ending of that fake dating sim where the protagonist, as the name implies, "fixes" them, so they're not a total piece of shit anymore, just really arrogant. Maybe, maybe then they wouldn't completely spoil their hypothetical kids into becoming monsters of people. MAYBE.

[servicpop]

kinktober week 1 — shower / bath adrien ( deliquent oc ) x bttm m reader

That Saturday afternoon glow of light orange and yellows filtered through your curtains and into your room. It was a sign to turn on your light since it was getting dark. As usual, you were hunched over your desk finishing off any work you had from your classes, pen in hand and music blasting through your headphones.

Your music cuts off and out of confusion you pick it up from its position faced down on the table; its Adrien, of course. He's sent you a rather cryptic message of just emojis, no text, just "🧍‍♂️👉🏡👍��💦💞💞💞. You don't have half the mind to decipher it but you do understand that he's most likely heading to your house. Per usual.

You don't bother sending him a reply, you seeing it is enough for Adrien to take that as a yes.

Your parents aren't home tonight, but that's never stopped Adrien from sneaking into your room through your window, even if the front door is free. You hear rattling and that's when you know Adrien has so kindly graced you with his presence. To make things easier for him, you decide to slide the window open and peer down at him.

Just like rapunzel, he's scaling your 'tower' like it's nothing. You sometimes question if Adrien is even human, and how he's acquired knowledge to safely climb your two story home. You notice that he has his gym bag slung over his shoulder and he tilts his head up to you with a grin, "Catch this!" He shouts, throwing his bag up to you and you shakily catch it, placing it down on the floor.

The next second, Adrien is hauling himself into your room and brushing off the dust from his clothes. "The front door is... open you know?" You huff, shaking your head disapprovingly. You glance over at him, and you see beads of sweat dripping down his temples and how his chest rises and falls quicker than usual.

"Are you—" "I went to training." Right, Adrien trains basically every second day of the week for a sport you never thought to ask about. Basketball? Football? Hockey? You never asked.

"Can I use your shower, prez?" The question comes off too casual; you've never really let any of your friends take a shower in your house let alone come over regularly. But since Adrien is already here, all sweaty and hot, you can't find a reason to say no. "Fine, everything you need is in there," you nod, walking back to sit at your desk.

"You're not gonna show me where it is?" Adrien places a hand on your desk, leaning his weight against his arm as he looks down at you. You just assumed he knew where it was given he's broke into your house multiple times but your assumptions were wrong. You get up and start walking, not bothering to look back to see if Adrien was following. You knew he would.

You reach your bathroom, stepping in so you could show him where everything was. Before you started speaking, you heard the faint click of the door shutting.

"Adrien—" "How am I supposed to know which knob is hot or cold?" he's so blatantly playing with you. He walks right up to you, only a hair away as he looks down at you. A stupid grin is plastered across his face and his fingers are gripping at the edge of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. "I'm all sweaty, prez, I need help washing my back," he sighs dramatically, fanning his face.

You take a moment to just stare. He's glistening in a sheen of sweat, droplets trickling down the curves and dents of his muscles, even his hair is slightly tousled. You keep quiet, unsure of what to say. That grin on his face never seems to lessen; it only grows wider by the second.

You can't even utter out a word before Adrien is pulling off his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. Your head instinctively darts to the right, trying to shield your eyes. "What? You act like you've never seen my dick before," he snorts out, tugging at your shirt, "it's been inside you too," he adds, successfully pulling your shirt off. "Oh shut up," you groan, grimacing at the way Adrien says it.

You don't stop him from completely stripping you down before taking off his own boxers, you just have the decency not to stare. He pushed the shower door open and ushered you inside before following you in. His chest his flushed against your back and the feeling of his sweat against your skin made you shiver, "Sorry," he mutters with a small chuckle.

He does know which knob is cold or hot because he immediately turns them to a desirable temperature. It's a little bit cooler than your preference though, but you don't mind it.

Adrien wastes no time in feeling your body, his hands moving straight to your hips like a moth to a flame. "You've been eating good? Not overworking yourself, prez?" He murmurs against your skin, his lips dragging along your shoulders as he clutches your body. "Yeah," your response is quiet and short, almost breathless since Adrien is all up on you at the moment.

His fingers trace the lines of your hip bone to your front, patting the skin where your leg meets your hip, slowly dipping more into your inner thighs to rub that area. His hands are so close. You can feel him spread your flesh, and he slots his cock in the free space. "Adrien," you scold, trying to pry his hands away but Adrien just ends up pushing you against the wall, your palms flat against the glass.

"You've been treating yourself well?" He hums, and you can tell from his tone he's half-mindely asking you these questions just to keep a conversation. He moves his hips back, sliding against the underside of your dick before meeting your hole, rubbing shallowly. "I haven't seen you in a week," from gentle caresses to harsher groping, Adrien's hands are now squeezing your hips.

Adrien nips at your neck, biting gently since he knew how you felt about visible marks, "It's so hard to avoid you" He borderline growls in your ear, pushing up into you. Adrien groans quietly at the feeling of you stretching out around him. His breathing becomes more and more audible as he caresses your torso.

Your small whines are muffled by the sound of water hitting the shower floor and the feeling of the cold glass along your chest gets you squirming. Adrien lifts your hips up a tiny bit, giving your ass a small tap before pushing in fully. Your fingers twitch and clench on the glass, trying desperately to hold onto something before Adrien's own hands meet yours, slotting a finger inbetween the gaps of yours.

"Just want me to hold your hand?" You wanna bite back at him but you lose your voice the moment he pulls out and thrusts back in, forcing a yelp out your throat instead of words. He squeezes the plush flesh of your ass a few times, and his eyes are trained to your hole, watching as it sucked him back in everytime he moved his hips back.

Adrien was getting overly worked up right now and the water didn't help either. Seeing the droplets decorate your spine like clear crystals rolling down the curve of your back made his mind go blank. You really brought that side out of him. He couldn't help but imagine that was his semen painting your back instead.

"Fuck you're too cute," He grunted, squeezing your hand a little tighter. Everytime Adrien pushed his dick in further, you felt the water push into you as well like it was wetting your insides. It was a weird sensation, nothing like lube, but it served to heighten your arousal from the fact that the water made the sound ofbyour skin clapping together alot louder.

It wasn't long before Adrien had moved in a way where he could hit your prostate directly and he knew he found it the moment you let out a strangled cry. Hearing that, Adrien pushed your body more against the glass, pinning you between himself and the wall. Your neglected cock was feverishly rubbing against cold wall with each thrust, smearing your pre-cum all over the glass.

"Does it feel good? Shit, maybe I gotta experiment with temp-play later," Adrien chuckled and you just let out an agitated groan that came out more like a needy whine. "That's where you're weak, isn't it? The underside of your dick?" You hated how he knew these things by now, but he wasn't wrong. Everytime you rubbed along the cold glass your body would jolt away from it and into Adrien which would result in him pushing you back into the wall as he fucked you from behind.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you heave, squirming relentlessly as your dick twitched against the wall. Adrien just let's out a strained chuckle as he grips your hips tighter, pounding into you even faster. He leans his head down to your shoulder and sinks his teeth into your skin, forgetting about the fact that you would definitely scold him for this afterwards. The feeling of Adrien's chapped lips and sharp teeth piercing through your skin made your vision go white and your ears ring.

Your previously clear shower walls are now splattered with white and your knees buck as Adrien holds you up, forcing you to stand as he orgasms into you. He laughs breathlessly as you ragdoll in his arms like a baby deer who's trying to stand up. "Right, right I'll clean you up baby just relax, and then we'll get out," he chuckles, rubbing soap inbetween his hands before cleaning you off,

"I think I'm gonna dry up like a raisin if I stay here any longer..."

[brattyfics]

Sins of The Flesh II

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC [Riley]

Wordcount: 3,000+

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Alternate Universe (Mike Is Alive), P in V, Spanking Aftermath, Mentions of Heaven/Hell, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Absolute Filth, Breeding Kink, Oral (Female Receiving)

A/N: Part One should be read first. Divider by fireflygraphics. I'm kind of embarrassed, but not really because y'all are nasty too.

“I want grits with a salmon croquette and chicken sausage. Can you get me a strawberry lemonade too? Their lemonade is amazing.”

Riley lay on her stomach in bed, facing Terry, who was propped up against the headboard, cell phone in hand. He rubbed between her shoulder blades, his touch gentle and soothing as he dialed up the brunch restaurant. Freshly bathed and wrapped up in one of his Marines T-shirts, she felt almost like she was floating. Having Terry there, being so attentive and caring, was exactly what she needed after their time apart.

“You want a side of bacon, too?” he asked, eyeing her with a raised brow. He knew her too well—she always said no, but then asked for some of his when the food arrived. “No, I don't need that much. Just a little bit.” She pinched her fingers together, mimicking a tiny portion.

“I’ll just have some of yours. You’ll share, right, baby?” She reached over lazily to rub his forearm, her fingers caressing the scar above his wrist. His expression softened as he gazed into her sweet brown eyes. She was so mesmerizing without even trying.

“Of course. Whatever you want,” he said, placing the order without the bacon but adding on an order of beignets. They were her guilty pleasure and he enjoyed tasting the powdered sugar that lingered on her lips afterward.

He tossed his phone aside after learning the total. “It’ll be here in an hour.”

“An hour?” she sighed deeply, “I’m going to starve by then.” After church hunger hit differently, and his spanking had drained her energy even more. She needed a nap and a big hearty meal to recover.

“You’ll be a’ight,” he grinned, shaking his head slightly as he laughed. "As soon as you take that first bite, you'll be saying it was worth the wait." Riley erupted into laughter, surprised at how predictable she really was. “Quit acting like you got me all figured out,” she giggled, tracing the lines of his palms with her fingers. “Today could be different, you never know.”

“You say that every week, babe.”

“I could change my mind,” she insisted, coming up with all kinds of scenarios—like missing chicken sausage or a plain lemonade that would throw her whole day off. The beignets could arrive soggy or without enough powdered sugar.

"You just talkin' to be talkin', huh?" He cut her off, tickling her sides until she was shrieking and wiggling away from him. She swatted at his hands, enjoying the lightness of the moment and teasing him back, “You know you love when I run my mouth.”

“You got a gift for keeping things interesting, that’s for sure.” He admitted, gaze drawn to her backside as her legs kicked up playfully behind her. The moments when it felt like it was just the two of them in the entire world with nothing else to worry about were her favorite.

“See? I knew you liked all this mouth.”

“Yeah, but that mouth is what keeps getting you into trouble, too.” He reminded her with a gentle kiss, his hands sliding down to her waist. Riley smiled up at him, bright and beautiful, and he knew he couldn’t deny her anything. Her parents had spoiled their only child, and Terry nurtured that spirit, indulging her in every way. She’d run all over him if he let her, which is why their little “checks and balances” system was necessary.

"Let me see what we’re working with," He tugged her closer by her arms, brushing off her protests as he lifted the oversized T-shirt to her waist, eager to examine his handiwork. She’d soaked in an oatmeal bath for half an hour, but her butt was still welted, bearing the marks of his handprints.

"Damn, baby, I really did a number on you."

Riley propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm fine," she assured him softly. "I needed it." The release had allowed her to shed the tension that had built up over the past week, though her body was still aching.

“Let me go ahead and put some cream on that for you,” he insisted.

Earlier, she'd brushed off his offer, insisting it hurt too much and that waiting until after her bath would be best. She groaned, realizing she couldn’t avoid it any longer. Terry was all about that aftercare—always checking to make sure she was genuinely okay. He reached into the bedside drawer, pulled out the tube of homemade cream—a mix of shea butter and aloe vera gel—and then settled in behind her.

He knelt on his haunches, positioned between her legs while she buried her face in the sheets. She heard the cap pop open, followed by the sound of his hands rubbing together to warm the cream.

She hissed as he began to work magic, his touch gentle but precise.

Her eyes were tightly shut, but she could easily picture his arms flexing as he kneaded her skin. He was as skilled as any professional massage therapist. She never questioned where he’d learned that skill or how he’d perfected it. She preferred to remain ignorant. The thought of him using those hands on other women, touching them the same way, drove her up the wall.

That primal instinct constantly gnawed at her, igniting an ugly possessiveness she couldn’t rein in.

The last time they went on a dinner date, she was convinced the older woman at the table next to them was intentionally dropping her napkin just to get Terry to keep picking it up. That lady took every opportunity to touch his hands, leaning in way too close for comfort. It didn’t take all that just to say 'thank you'.

Afterward, she told him she never wanted to go back, pretending it was because the tables were too close together. The truth was, she felt too embarrassed to admit she was jealous of someone old enough to be her grandma for no good reason.

Then there were the young women who couldn’t resist trying their luck. The same girls she grew up with at church would ask, “Terry, can you bring my donations in for me? They’re so heavy. Terry, can you carry these cakes in? Terry, will you come out to the car and grab these cans of soda?”

They knew damn well they were dragging their own donations in before he started showing up. So she made it a point to lag behind on Sunday mornings. They wouldn’t be late, but they also wouldn’t arrive early enough for anyone to take advantage.

And don’t get her started on the women at the grocery store; they were the absolute worst!

They’d whisper and watch Terry as he walked through the aisles. He’d bend down and reach for everything Riley pointed out, completely oblivious to their lingering. They clustered around when he loaded up the cart with water. It drove her so crazy that she eventually started ordering her groceries for pickup, insisting he unload them at home.

All that fine was for her eyes only.

Gradually, the burning sting began to subside. What had felt like a raging fire now simmered down to a dull, tender ache. “Feel better?” he asked, kissing the back of her neck. “Mhm,” she hummed lazily, on the verge of falling asleep.

“Yes. Thank you.”

He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “I'm supposed to look after you. You don’t need to thank me for that.” She had a way of bringing out his softer side, making him feel more tender than he ever planned to be. “You had it coming, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel bad about it.”

“I told you I’m fine, baby.”

"Doesn't mean I can't kiss it better."

She bit her lip, wishing he would finally grant her the one request she’d been making all day. The waiting felt like a tightrope walk—teetering on the edge of cruel and unusual punishment.

“But I gotta make sure I’ve got all my bases covered first," he said as he helped her onto her hands and knees, applying gentle pressure to her back until she arched.

Slivers of light filtered through the closed blinds, bouncing off her moisturized, glossy skin. He watched, enthralled, as her hips swayed back and forth, fueled by all that pent-up energy. He couldn’t look away from the swollen, soft pink. 

"Yeah, I’mma make it all better with a kiss." He pledged, carefully using both of his hands to part her open before pressing a gentle kiss against her slit. She panted, heart racing as he kissed her pussy the same way he kissed her lips—slow and sensual, taking his sweet time before sliding his tongue in.

He teased her with his words in between.

"You always taste so good."

"I missed this pussy while I was away."

"It's all I could think about."

"Such a sweet girl, baby."

Riley jolted forward, squealing in surprise when the tip of his tongue brushed her sensitive clit. “Don’t move,” He instructed sternly, grabbing hold of the back of her thighs. His tongue lavished her wet pussy as she squirmed; warm, wet, methodical, and engineered to drive her wild. Terry was such a fucking menace.

"Wait a second, baby," She tried to gather herself, groaning and shifting her hips, as if another moment would make his teasing any easier to endure. She bit her lip to stifle her sounds, but he wasn't having that. Terry wrapped his arms under her legs until he had her firmly secured.

"What did I say?" She struggled against his grip but found it was iron-tight. "Don't run from me," He warned like he didn't already have her pinned down and at his mercy.

He took full advantage of her vulnerable position, zeroing in on her puffy clit, sucking, licking, and devouring her like a starved man. She clawed at his hands, but it was useless.

“Oh God!" She gasped, convinced he was one of the devil’s soldiers, sent to torment and steal her soul. Nothing else made sense. She’d never met a man so skilled and deliberate in driving her insane. 

“You good, baby?” She heard the smirk in his voice, certain that this was some new form of torture. The only time she caught a break was when he took a second to breathe, and even then, he was right back at it, pushing her limits all over again. His mouth was even more skilled than his hands, working her over soft and deliberate until she was trembling.

Terry was indeed a fucking menace, but she was his willing prey, moaning that it was too much while pushing her hips back for more. Her essence dripped onto his tongue and down his chin, sweet and sticky like ripe mango.

"I'm gonna come!" She wailed, grinding against his face.

Terry pawed at her butt, a surge of aggression washing over him. It took everything not to spank her ass some more. He stuffed his face where she wanted it, letting her ride his tongue until she creamed all over it.

“Shit!” she screamed, collapsing forward as her hips jerked uncontrollably. 

The sound of his shorts falling to the floor faded into the background as blood rushed to her ears, drowning out everything else. Before she realized it, he flipped her onto her back, placing one pillow under her head and another beneath her back to ease the pressure on her bottom. He lifted her hips, positioning himself to slide between her legs.

The tip of his dick leaked as he stroked it, grunting softly as he tried to mentally prepare for the tight fit. Her pussy was still clenching down on nothing, hungry for something more.

“Come ‘ere,” Riley urged, pulling him down to her lips for a deep kiss and moaning wantonly as she tasted herself. She wrapped her arms and legs tight around Terry’s large frame, grinding down against his hard dick. Her chest felt tight with emotions that were too intense.

I love you to death. You mean everything to me. I need you.

Terry could ask her to do just anything in that moment, and she’d say yes without a second thought. She’d agree to have ten children if that's what he wanted. She wanted a permanent connection, something to bind them together forever—a family of their own.

"You ready for more, pretty girl?"

"I'll take whatever you give me," She promised softly, laser-focused on his big dick as he teased at her entrance. She was fatigued, but finally getting what she had been fantasizing about all week. Deep brown skin, mesmerizing hazel eyes, and a strong, muscular build that could surround her completely.

Her face contorted, brows furrowed and mouth agape as he pushed in. Terry pressed his face into her neck, letting out a soft groan as she ran her fingers soothingly along his back. "I love you," she confessed, unable to contain the emotion any longer as he began to move his hips.

Terry could barely think straight with her squeezing him so tightly, but he managed to work up to a steady rhythm, gently pushing and pulling until he was fully sheathed inside her. Riley gripped his arms for dear life as he occupied every inch of her.

“Can’t believe you thought I was giving this to somebody else,” He let out a loud grunt, thrusting deep. "I already got my hands full with you, baby."

Riley was his own little slice of heaven, perfectly crafted just for him. He never imagined he could love someone so deeply that being apart from her felt like he was missing a limb. As he slipped into her, he remembered how she had accused him of cheating when she was the only thing on his mind. Her sweet magnolia scent and those beautiful brown eyes—she was his master, and she didn’t even realize it.

"Fuck me," She ordered with the urgency of a drill sergeant, grabbing his ass and pushing him deeper. She wanted him buried inside of her. “That feels so good.” She growled out.

“Keep fucking me, just like that.”

"Fuck this tight pussy, Daddy.”

“I missed this dick so fucking much.”

“I’ve been thinking about it everyday.”

She didn’t usually speak that way, but something was taking over her, making the vulgar words spill from her lips effortlessly.

It had taken all his restraint not to give in to her earlier, but it was worth it for this moment. The way her heat molded around him, fitting him perfectly as she clung to him, desperate and wanton.

“You’re being so rough with me, baby!” she exclaimed, though there was no hint of complaint. Terry was manhandling her like a ragdoll, and she loved every second of it. Watching such a disciplined man lose control over her was exhilarating.

Terry tried to restrain his darker urges around her, but she was so beautiful when she cried. It only fueled his hunger, driving him to be even more aggressive. She clawed at his back, yelling out when his balls smacked her tender ass.

“I wanna have your baby, Daddy.” Riley confessed with tears in her eyes. She knew she had to be losing her mind, but she meant every word.

Terry’s hips faltered. “What did you just say?”

“I want to give you a baby. I want us to have a baby together. Can we, please?”

Every conversation they’d had about having children had ultimately come down to the understanding that they needed to be married first before starting a family. The pullout method, however dangerous, had worked for them thus far. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she knew exactly what to say to get what she wanted out of him. "I want to be the one to give you a baby, Daddy. The only one.”

Terry cursed, struggling to keep his composure. His own mind was foggy with love and lust. Her parents would be furious if he got her pregnant before marriage, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. They could go ring shopping tomorrow and then apply for the marriage license right after. It was just paperwork—he already knew how he felt.

“You for real?” He imagined her big and round, pregnant and filled with his child. Relying on him to help her tie her shoes or assemble a crib for their child.

"Yes!" she replied eagerly, her eyes shining with desire.

“You want me to make you a mommy?”

“Yes, I’m ready to have all your babies, Daddy.” Babies? She always had to take it a step further. The bare minimum was never enough for her. She was utterly spoiled, and their children would undoubtedly be the same.

“How am I supposed to turn you down when you ask so sweet?” Terry leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck as he let out a low growl. “If you want my baby, you’re gonna have to be a really good girl and keep that pussy open for me.”

“If you keep giving it to me good, I’ll give you what you want.”

“I’ll cum deep in that creamy pussy and give you a baby.”

She was so wet that everything felt slick, her brown eyes glazed over with desire. He knew he should try to be the responsible one, but all he could think about was filling her womb and giving her the beautiful baby she was begging him for. “Tell me you’re mine,” he says, gripping her neck firmly, leaving her breathless.

“I-," The doorbell rings, and it takes her a few moments to process the sound. Terry doesn’t stop, sweat dripping down his face and onto her skin, mixing with hers. It’s as if he’s in a trance, unable to concentrate on anything but his mission.

“Oh my God,” she cries, pushing at his firm stomach for when he strikes a particularly sensitive spot inside of her. Terry forced her up the bed with each powerful motion of his hips, fucking her harder and deeper than he ever had before.

“Relax. It's probably the food," He crooned, brushing her hands aside. "I’ll get it, but I need to give you my baby first.”

“Oh my God,” She braced herself as the pressure built in her belly. Terry was driving himself deep and hard in her pussy like he had a point to prove. He really wanted that baby. With her eyes closed shut, Riley surrendered, pinching and pulling on her nipples until she was soaking Terry and the sheets beneath them. He held her down, ensuring she couldn’t escape as he flooded her with cum.

“Oh my god,” she repeated incessantly, like a broken record. All of his weight settled on top of her, their foreheads touching. She gazed into his eyes, the realization of what they had just done beginning to sink in. She didn’t have any regrets; she was eager to claim him as hers forever. Excited to nurture a child who represented the best of each of them.

Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that lingered as if he were trying to memorize the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, it was with reluctance, his gaze locked on hers. He couldn’t find any hint of regret in her eyes, and he certainly didn’t have any himself.

"Thank you, Daddy." She cooed, reaching down to stroke her clit. He watched, entranced as their slick oozed out of her. It felt like he was hardwired for it, instinctively wanting to fill her up again and push in deep. “Whatever happens next, I’m gonna take care of you.” He vowed, his warm hand pressing gently on her belly. He silently prayed for a favorable outcome, hoping it would lead to a little baby in the next ten months.

She brushed the sweat from his forehead with the back of her hand. “I know. I love you and trust you completely. I really want us to be a family.”

“We will be,” he said with a conviction that tugged at her heartstrings.

The doorbell rang again.

“The food,” she reminded him, gently pushing him back before they got too caught up in the moment. She needed a moment to catch her breath anyway. The tension between them was smoldering.

He cursed under his breath as he reluctantly pulled away, picking up his shorts from the floor and then his wallet from the dresser. She heard the faint sound of the door alarm as the front door opened, followed by quiet voices conversing while she stared up at the ceiling.

Her heavy eyelids fluttered shut. There was no way she'd be able to go to work in the morning.

Terry eventually shuffled back into the room, holding the tied bag in his large hands like a prized catch. “Come on. Let’s put something else in your belly before you knock out on me.”

Thoughts? Lol 😂

Tagging the people who asked for a second installment:

@sageispunk @avoidthings @megamindsecretlair @planetblaque

[yanderestarangel]

tio miguel o'hara au

art cr: @/Andalusia_lu-

TW: EXTREMELY DARK CONTENT, STEP INCEST, OC MIGUEL, MANIPULATION, VIOLENCE, ALCOHOL, DARK THEMES, TRAUMA, GRIEF, BROKEN MIND, DUB CON, NON CON, POWER PLAY, HARASSMENT, GN READER, THREAT, PAIN KINK, DOLLFICATION, NSFW, BREEDKINK.

˖⁺ ⊹୨ notes ୧⊹ ⁺˖ no negativity please. If this isn’t your sort of content you’re more than welcome to block me and move on with your day.

I just wanted to make a definitive AU for my version of "Tio" Miguel O'Hara ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

[PART.1.]

♡ ┆Tio Miguel is your non-blood uncle who is thirty-five years old, his skin tanned by the hot midday sun accentuates his body and he has greater muscle mass than most men of his age; brown hair usually combed back and dark brown eyes that seem to penetrate your soul.

♡ ┆ He arrived like a hurricane in your life and that of your family, right after you moved to another quieter place in the Mexican city, practically a rural place where Miguel lived just a few meters away on a large farm, isolated from curious eyes.

♡ ┆ You had a grandmother who already lived there and she introduced the previously unknown man to you, saying that he was Miguel O'Hara, a close neighbor who always came to visit and was always nice to her, practically a son for the older lady. The tall Mexican man helped your family unload the moving truck, he was the first to approach like a silent plague and the target was always you, since the first time he saw you he had felt something more like his life had meaning again.

♡ ┆ Soon he began to frequent your house, being a friendly and solitary gentleman keeping everything from his past between his teeth despite the entire reception of his family with his persona. You, on the other hand, saw how he always seemed to look for you regardless of the situation you were in, even asking you to call him "Uncle" and that was when it all really started for both of you, the demand to be called that was subtle but already functional that even your parents told/demanded that you respect the man as someone in the family and in a short time he was already an influential and feared member of your family.

♡ ┆He is almost always seen dressed in ranch clothes or dress shirts and jeans - punctuated with cowboy or work boots, most of the time they are expensive fabrics that are not compatible with the minimum wage he receives for his work as a caregiver of farms or livestock. He is occasionally seen wearing a shabby brown suede cowboy hat.

♡ ┆When you ask him about his profession he just smiles and uses the same excuse that he got extra money from some competitions he won at the local bullfight ─ and the mysterious gain is not only used for his own use but also to buy gifts for you, he is not afraid to manipulate or seduce you with monetary gains to capture your attention and keep it, if you want something he will give it to you without thinking twice just to keep you for him, whether for his money or by making you afraid. Miguel secretly ran the underworld of drugs and smuggling but he would never tell you that and he would rather die than for you to discover his source of money in reality.

♡ ┆He always uses affectionate and possessive nicknames with you, like 'Mi vida' 'Mi angelito' 'Mi carinõ'; practically like a passionate lover would do or even he would grab you and hug you, touching you in different places and leaving a trail of heat wherever his fingers passed, even though he was your uncle he would treat you like a possessive companion would.

♡ ┆He drinks a lot, his favorite drink is expensive and pure whiskey. He also becomes almost predatory when he's drunk, often coming into your room on celebratory nights and whispering dark promises to you ─ you've seen him kneeling at the side of your bed as the warm alcoholic breath comes from his thick lips, phrases like: "You will always belong to me", "anyone who dares to come close to you I will kill them.", "I will never let you slip out of my hands, my precious angel." Or even the secret desires to use your body escaped his lips on those rare nights when the drink overcame his stoic and cold demeanor.

♡ ┆Most of his cold behavior is the result of the fact that he never had children and also due to the death of his late wife, killed by a fateful fate that he refused to talk about. He tends to be extremely rude to everyone but he tries to be as gentle as possible with you, even though it can be scary at times. He is domineering, impatient and quick-tempered, looking for your company during family outings or parties. Miguel will manipulate you by saying that his behavior is normal, saying that you were his family and he was just trying to make your bond grow and he will also manipulate your family to sweep away any complaints you may make. from the carpet or say that you were being dramatic and if you try to return his advances he can be extremely rude and easily hold your body, whispering subtle threats like: "You don't want to see me angry, do you, angel?" While leaving your wrists marked red from the force he had put there.

♡ ┆He doesn't let you have boyfriends or girlfriends, if you dare to have a partner he will do everything to make your parents stop this relationship. Even if you are an adult he will do everything in his power to make your life hell if you dare to leave him for a random person. Most of your relationships ended mysteriously because your dear tio used his influence in the underworld to threaten your partner. It will also alienate you from friends or acquaintances, a useful way to maintain control over yourself.

♡ ┆He always invites you to his farm on the weekends, always with the promise of some expensive gift or comfort from all the weekly stress. If you accepted (through free and spontaneous pressure from him) he would spoil you and always spend exorbitant amounts of money on you. If you have problems with your family, he will convince you to leave your home and talk to your parents to let you stay with him in his house for an indefinite period of time. Your Tio I planned to make you his perfect future companion, submissive and untouched by the evils of the world, a husband/wife so he could have a real family again, even if he was your uncle.

♡ ┆He tries to make you sleep with him several times, be it with monetary gains, manipulation or breaking you to the point that you throw yourself into his arms because he thinks you won't get anyone to love you like he does. During sex he plays the role of a tough dominant, often treating you roughly and likes to use your body to vent his frustrations. Miguel will choke and bite you, marking your neck and shoulders with painful, red bites, - even hitting you if you try to struggle or struggle against him, whether it's slaps to the face or butt making you whimper and become more still and controlled in his control. He uses his greater physical experience and constitution to hold you back if you try to run. Your Uncle likes to fantasize about getting you pregnant and making you a perfect little doll for him, he fills all your holes with his semen. He can spit in your mouth, hit his dick on your face, giving you hickeys on your neck, strong bites, or cumming on your face and recording everything afterwards to threaten you if you don't want to accept his marriage proposal later.

[moonpascal]

IN THE SHADOW OF MEMORY

CHAPTER THREE I series masterlist WC: 5.6k

WARNINGS:

angst, language, nose bleed, headaches, asshole parents, pov switch, smoking, ron’s mean, roommate oc, flashback is italicized, let me know if i missed any

AUTHORS NOTE:

big thanks to the amazing @amiableness and @mischievousmoony for reading and helping me with this chapter! i love you both so much! couldn’t do it without you both!

hopefully this answers some questions you guys had! i had fun writing this!

After a restless night, you wake up feeling somewhat refreshed, though a faint unease still lingers, like a shadow just out of sight. You push the feeling aside, blaming it on the inevitable tension of the upcoming war. No one could expect to feel fully relaxed until it’s all over.

Determined to shake off the dread, you pull on your house uniform and head out to meet the trio in your usual spot, hoping the familiar routine will help steady your nerves.

As you fumble with your crooked tie, cursing under your breath at its refusal to cooperate, you’re so absorbed in the task that you don’t notice someone approaching until it’s almost too late. You barely manage to stop yourself from crashing into them. When you look up, it’s Luna, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she watches you wrestle with the stubborn knot.

“Morning,” she says softly, her voice like a gentle breeze. “Your tie seems to be having a bit of a rebellion.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, “It’s not the only thing,” you mutter, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

Luna steps closer, her fingers brushing against yours as she takes over the task of fixing your tie. “There,” she says, her touch light but sure. “Sometimes, things just need a little extra patience.”

You’re about to thank her when she suddenly tilts her head, looking at you with that faraway gaze she’s known for.

“I think today will be important,” she muses, as if she’s sharing a secret with the universe.

You blink, caught off guard. “What makes you say that?”

Luna smiles, a soft, knowing smile. “Just a feeling,” she replies, before turning and drifting away as if pulled by some unseen force, leaving you standing there, tie now perfectly straight, and the uneasy feeling from before somehow softened by her presence.

Reeling from your conversation with Luna, you continue walking through the castle until you spot Hermione and Ron waiting at your usual spot. But there’s no sign of Harry, which is strange—he’s always the first to arrive.

“Where’s Harry?” you ask, looking around.

“Forgot something in the library,” Ron replies, rolling his eyes. “Said he’d meet us there.”

You nod, though Ron’s irritation catches you off guard. He must’ve had a rough morning already.

The three of you head to the Great Hall and find your seats. As soon as you sit down, you start piling food onto your plate. After missing lunch and dinner yesterday, you’re starving.

The chatter of the hall is a welcome distraction, and as you bite into a piece of bacon, the savory flavor makes you sigh in contentment.

As you chew, you turn to Hermione, eager to share something that’s been on your mind. “Guess what weird piece of clothing I found in my dorm last night?” you ask, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

Hermione raises an eyebrow, already playing along. “Don’t tell me it was Grace again?”

“It was Grace!” you laugh, enjoying how well she knows your roommate’s antics. “I found a Slytherin tie and a couple of jumpers by my bed. Honestly, I hope they didn’t do anything on my bed,” you add, making a face.

Hermione’s eyes widen, but before she can respond, you remember something else. “Oh, and I’ve been meaning to ask you guys,” you say, pulling a small locket from under your shirt.

You fumble with the chain a bit, trying to unsnag it from the loose thread on your tie. “Do you remember where I got this locket?”

You hold it up, letting the gold catch the light as you rotate it in your fingers. Ron opens his mouth to say something, but before he can get a word out, Harry suddenly appears at your side, his expression tense.

“Ron, Hermione, I need to talk to you—now,” Harry says, his voice urgent. He grabs both of them by the shoulders, startling all three of you.

“What’s going on?” you ask, but Harry’s already pulling them to their feet.

“Sorry, Trouble. We’ll be right back,” he says quickly before dragging them out of the hall, leaving you behind.

You watch them go, feeling a pang of exclusion. They’ve always had their secrets, but it still stings to be left out. You poke at your food, appetite waning, and glance around the Great Hall at the other students, all absorbed in their own lives. The noise that was comforting a moment ago now feels distant and hollow.

As you finish what you can manage, the morning owl post arrives, letters and packages dropping onto the tables. You’re surprised when two letters land in front of you instead of the usual one. You pick up the one from your parents first, already bracing yourself for the sharp words you know are coming. Carefully, you break the seal and unfold the letter.

“We heard you had an accident and fell. That is no excuse to fall behind in your studies. Make sure you catch up on any missed work immediately and seek extra credit if possible. You need to follow in your sister’s footsteps or you’ll never amount to anything—”

The words blur as a sharp pain stabs through your head. Your vision swims, and the hall around you seems to tilt.

You blink, trying to clear your head, when you see Theodore standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you.

“What are you doing out here?” you mutter, your voice thick with the remnants of the pain.

“I could ask you the same, Tesoro,” he replies, stepping closer. His voice is calm, but there’s an edge of concern in it. The moonlight filters through the trees, casting long shadows across the courtyard.

You turn away, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m not in the mood, Nott.”

He doesn’t back off. Instead, he reaches out, gently catching your arm as you start to move away. “Hey, I’m not here to cause trouble,” he says softly. “Just wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

For a moment, you consider brushing him off, but something in his voice makes you pause. You sigh, the fight draining out of you as you sink back down onto the bench.

He sits beside you, keeping a respectful distance. The silence stretches between you, but it doesn’t feel as awkward as you expected. After a while, you pull the crumpled letter from your pocket and hand it to him without a word.

He takes it, glancing at you before he starts reading. You watch his expression harden as he scans the lines, his jaw tightening with each word. When he’s finished, he folds the letter neatly and hands it back to you.

“They’re wrong, you know,” he says quietly. “You’re worth more than that.”

You look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Thanks,” you whisper, though the words feel inadequate.

Theodore leans back, looking up at the sky. “You know, sometimes burning things like that helps,” he says casually, as if suggesting the most normal thing in the world. “It’s like telling them to go to hell.”

You blink, caught off guard by the suggestion. “Burn it?”

He nods. “Yeah. Why keep something that only hurts you?”

You consider his words for a moment, then slowly nod. “Yeah, okay. Let’s burn it.”

A small smile tugs at his lips as you take your wand out, feeling a little lighter. “Incendio,” you whisper, and the letter catches fire, the flames consuming the harsh words. You watch as the paper crumples and turns to ash, a strange sense of relief washing over you.

“Thanks, Theodore,” you say, glancing at him with a genuine smile. Somehow, he’s made the weight on your chest feel a little lighter.

“Trouble! Trouble!” Harry’s urgent voice pulls you back to reality. You’re still in the Great Hall, with Harry gripping your shoulders, his face etched with concern.

“What… what happened?” you ask, feeling disoriented. Your hand instinctively moves to your face, where you feel the warm, sticky sensation of blood trickling from your nose.

“You’re bleeding,” Harry says, his eyes wide. “We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey, now.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say, pulling away slightly. “I can go on my own. You should get to class.”

Harry hesitates, worry etched on his face, but Hermione steps in, gently pushing him aside. “I’ll stay with her,” she says, giving Harry a reassuring nod.

As you wipe the blood from your nose, Hermione takes you by the arm and guides you out of the Great Hall. You can feel the weight of curious stares from your classmates, but you focus on Hermione’s calm presence beside you.

“I don’t want to see Madam Pomfrey,” you start to protest, a hint of anxiety creeping into your voice. You know you should go, but something inside you resists. That vivid memory from earlier—it felt so real. But why was Theodore Nott, of all people, in it?

“I know,” Hermione replies softly, her voice soothing. “We’ll go to your dorm instead. You can rest there.”

Her understanding surprises you, as if she knows exactly what’s weighing on your mind. You try to piece together the memory. It lingers, just out of reach, teasing you with its importance.

You’re lost in thought, your surroundings blurring into insignificance until Hermione pulls you into your dorm room. She sits you down on your rumpled bed, her face etched with concern.

“Hermione, what’s going on?” you ask, trying to steady your racing thoughts as you notice the tension in her posture.

Hermione takes a deep breath, clearly struggling with how to begin.

“Something happened… something we didn’t want you to find out like this.”

A cold knot forms in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

She hesitates, then says carefully, “The fall you think you had… it wasn’t a fall. You were hit by a spell—by accident.”

Your mind races, trying to make sense of her words. “A spell? What kind of spell?”

“A memory charm,” Hermione says quietly, her eyes locking onto yours. “It was meant to erase specific memories. But it didn’t go as planned, and you were caught in the crossfire.”

You feel the blood drain from your face. “A memory charm… but I remember everything, don’t I?”

Hermione shakes her head slightly. “Not everything. We think it’s caused gaps, places where something important used to be but isn’t anymore.”

Your heart pounds as you try to wrap your mind around what she’s saying. “What did I forget? How much have I lost?”

“That’s the problem,” Hermione says, her voice gentle. “We can’t exactly tell you what’s missing. We’re trying to figure it out, but it’s tricky. We didn’t want to tell you until we had more answers.”

You feel a mix of fear and anger rising. “So, you were just going to let me walk around not knowing?”

“No!” Hermione says quickly. “We were going to tell you, we just needed time to understand it ourselves. But we found you unresponsive and bleeding…”

You sit in stunned silence, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “What now?” you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“We’ll work through this together,” Hermione promises. “We’ll do everything we can to help you recover what you’ve lost, or at least figure out what happened.”

Her words are meant to comfort you, but the reality of missing pieces of your life—of not knowing what’s been taken—leaves you feeling detached. Hermione remains by your side, her presence a steady source of reassurance as you struggle to process this overwhelming revelation.

Theos pov: prior day

Theo hadn’t had much time to process the chaos Potter had unleashed. The shock of learning that you no longer remembered him, followed by the sting of your angry outburst, had left him feeling numb, as if he were moving through the day in a fog. He wasn’t even sure how he had made it back to the dorm. Everything felt surreal, as if he were watching someone else’s life unravel before his eyes.

He barely registered walking into the common room. Even Mattheo’s attempts to get his attention seemed distant and muted, like he was hearing them through water. It wasn’t until Mattheo physically grabbed him by the shoulder and gave him a shake that Theo snapped back to reality.

“Salazar, Theo, you really zoned out there,” Mattheo said with a hint of concern, though he tried to keep it light. His eyes scanned the room. “Where’s Trouble?”

The question hit Theo like a punch to the gut. His body tensed, and the words he needed to say seemed to lodge in his throat. How could he possibly explain what had happened? How could he tell his best mate that he’d been secretly fighting against everything their house stood for, and that you—his girlfriend—had been caught in the crossfire?

Mattheo would probably tell him that he deserved it, that this was the price of betraying his house. Or worse, he might report it to his father, who would ensure that Voldemort dealt with Theo personally.

“She… she had a nasty fall yesterday,” Theo forced the words out, his voice strained. He hoped it would be enough to satisfy Mattheo, but his friend wasn’t so easily convinced.

“That why you disappeared last night? Is she okay?” Mattheo asked, his tone more serious now, his earlier humor fading.

“She doesn’t remember me,” Theo muttered, the words barely audible. It was the first time he’d spoken them aloud, and doing so made it all feel too real, too painful.

“What do you mean?” Mattheo asked, his expression hardening as the gravity of the situation began to dawn on him. Trouble who had been a pain in his ass and was finally tolerating you. Theo didn’t want to say it again, didn’t want to feel that same stabbing pain in his chest. But Mattheo wasn’t letting it go.

“Theo, what do you mean?” he pressed, his voice sharp and demanding.

“She remembers everything but me! Our entire relationship—gone!” Theo snapped, the frustration and despair that had been building up since the incident finally boiling over. He shoved Mattheo back, his fists clenched tightly as if ready for a fight.

The anger, the helplessness, the grief—they all mingled together, pushing him to the brink. Tears threatened to spill, but he refused to break down, not in front of Mattheo, not in front of anyone but you.

“Hey, don’t take it out on me! I’m trying to help,” Mattheo shot back, stepping closer as if to challenge him, his tone now serious and firm. Theo scoffed in response, rolling his eyes as he pushed past him, desperate to reach the solitude of his room.

Theo slammed the door behind him with a force that reverberated through the room, but he barely noticed the sound. He couldn’t breathe; it felt like the walls were closing in on him, suffocating him.

Everything he cared about—everything that mattered—had been ripped away, and he had no idea how to get it back.

His gaze swept across the room, taking in the chaotic disarray of his belongings, though none of it seemed to register fully. His bed, unmade from where you had slept just the night before, looked like a mocking reminder of what he had lost.

Your tie, casually draped over his desk, next to the book you two had been reading together every night, felt like a relic of a time that had suddenly been erased. Little parchment notes, filled with love and encouragement, were scattered across the surfaces, each one a painful echo of a relationship that now existed only in his memory.

It was unbearable.

Desperate for an outlet, Theo grabbed the nearest object—a chair—and hurled it at the floor with all his strength. The wood splintered and cracked, pieces flying in every direction. A sharp shard sliced across his cheek, but the pain was a mere blip against the emotions raging inside him. It wasn’t enough; the destruction did nothing to quell the storm.

His eyes locked onto the fire poker resting by the fireplace, an innocent object that suddenly felt like the perfect instrument for his fury. He seized it, gripping it with both hands, and began to swing wildly at his bed.

The metal struck the wooden pillars with a resounding crash, splintering the supports, shattering the structure into ruins. His yells filled the room, raw and primal, as he tore through the space, obliterating everything within reach.

When there was nothing left to destroy, when the room was nothing but a mess of shattered wood, glass shards, and torn fabric, Theo collapsed against what remained of his bed. His back slid down the broken frame until he was sitting on the floor, surrounded by the debris of his breakdown.

The numbness crept in, dulling the edges of his anger and grief, leaving him feeling hollow and lost. He stared blankly at the wall, his mind on the brink of spiraling again, unable to grasp what he was supposed to do next. How could he fix something so deeply broken?

His gaze shifted, and something caught his eye—a flash of color peeking out from under the bed. It was your jumper, partially hidden but unmistakable. He reached for it quickly, almost desperately, and when his fingers closed around the familiar fabric, he pulled it close. Dusting it off, he clutched it to his chest, his breath hitching as he buried his face in the soft material. Your scent lingered faintly, a comforting trace of you that seemed to cut through the haze of despair.

As he inhaled deeply, the tears finally came, silent and unchecked, sliding down his face as he held your jumper tighter. It was the first real release he’d allowed himself, the first moment he’d let the weight of everything truly hit him.

He had to find a way to fix this, to make things right. After his first class, he’d start working on a plan. He had to see you, make sure you were okay—and selfishly, because he couldn’t stand being apart from you any longer.

Theo rushed to class, almost knocking over several students in his haste. He didn’t bother apologizing; his mind was fixated solely on seeing you.

As he burst through the door, earning a few glances from his peers, his eyes immediately sought you out. There you were, sitting in your usual spot, and for a brief moment, Theo allowed himself to hope that maybe everything would be normal again. But as he approached and took the seat beside you, the tension in your posture made it clear he had been too optimistic.

He tensed in response, trying to keep himself together, even as the nausea of your apparent discomfort around him threatened to overwhelm him. Maybe it was a mistake to come to class instead of diving straight into research. He wasn’t sure he could handle seeing you like this, not in his current fragile state. But what about you? Were you alright?

Lavender’s voice suddenly cut through his thoughts as she asked how you were doing. Theo’s heart raced, dreading what you might say, what Lavender might tell you.

This wasn’t how you should find out—not after everything that happened this morning. So he quickly cleared his throat, giving Lavender a sharp look that silently begged her to drop the subject.

Luckily, the professor began the lesson before anyone could say more. But Theo wasn’t paying attention; his focus was entirely on you. He watched as you suddenly winced, shutting your eyes tightly and massaging your temples. His heart clenched in his chest. He knew you suffered from migraines, but this one seemed different, more intense.

Normally, Theo would offer comfort, holding your hand or rubbing your back—anything to help ease the pain. You had always said his touch brought you relief, that his warmth helped you get through the worst of it.

But now, how could he offer that comfort when you seemed so distant? The image you had of him now wasn’t the same as it was yesterday. Still, he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing.

He leaned over, pretending to need more ink, subtly brushing against you. To his relief, he noticed your body relax slightly, and he felt a small surge of pride. It seemed your body still recognized him, even if your mind was struggling.

He stayed close for the rest of the class, finding some solace in being near you, even if it wasn’t the same. When the lesson finally ended, you remained seated, your breathing shaky. Theo wrestled with himself before finally finding the courage to speak.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

His voice seemed to pull you from whatever trance you were in, and you answered him hesitantly, clearly torn between confiding in him and holding back. Theo could see the conflict in your eyes, mirroring the turmoil in his own heart. To be so close to you yet feel so distant was a cruel irony.

Tentatively, he reached out, resting his hand on yours. The familiar softness of your skin was almost too much for him to bear. The urge to pull you into his arms was overwhelming, but he resisted. And then, to his dismay, you apologized.

Of course, you would apologize. Theo deflated, disappointment crashing over him. For a fleeting moment, it had felt like everything was normal again, like this was just the aftermath of a minor argument. But reality was far harsher.

This wasn’t a simple fix, and Theo wasn’t going to get an easy resolution.

Accepting your apology was a small hurdle, but saying your name instead of the endearing terms he used to call you—amore, tesoro—hurt the most. It felt foreign, like a painful reminder of how deeply the spell had affected you.

He could see that you wanted to say more, but then you recoiled, almost tipping backward in your chair. Instinctively, Theo reached out and caught you before you could hurt yourself further.

“Whoa, easy there. What’s happening?” he nearly let amore slip out, but caught himself just in time. Before he could say anything else, you excused yourself and hurried out of the classroom. Theo watched you go, his eyes never leaving your retreating figure, wishing he could take away whatever pain you were feeling.

Determined, Theo hastily grabbed his bag and decided to skip the rest of his classes. He needed to get to the library. Madam Pince could take all the points from Slytherin for all he cared. He was going to get to the bottom of this.

Theo stood frozen in the library, staring at the seemingly endless shelves of books. He didn’t know where to start, and the thought of asking Madam Pince for help made him grimace. He didn’t have the time or patience to search the entire library by himself. With a frustrated huff, he yanked off his robe, tossed his bag onto a nearby table, and ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm his nerves before reluctantly seeking out Pince.

“Mr. Nott, shouldn’t you be in class?” Irma Pince’s voice cut through his thoughts, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised in disapproval.

“What are the call numbers for any information on the Obliviate spell?” Theo snapped, too agitated to explain himself.

Her eyes widened slightly at his sharp tone, clearly displeased with his lack of manners. “Ten points from Slytherin, Nott,” she replied icily, before guiding him to the section he needed.

After a short walk, she pointed to the relevant shelves. “This better be for research only and not some mischief you boys are planning,” she warned, her gaze stern and unyielding.

Theo barely concealed his irritation, rolling his eyes in blatant annoyance. “Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, brushing past her to scan the shelves for useful books.

Pince stalked off, leaving him to his task. He gathered a few books and an old Daily Prophet article, his arms heavy with the weight of them. He dropped the books onto the table, pulled out some parchment, and prepared to take notes—anything that might help fix the mess he was in.

Starting with The Standard Book of Spells, Theo flipped through the pages until he found the section on the Memory Charm.

“The Memory Charm (Obliviate), also known as the Forgetfulness Charm, was a charm that could be used to erase specific memories from an individual’s mind. It was different from the spell that created false memories.”

Theo sighed, rubbing his eyes in frustration. This wasn’t new information—it was basic knowledge. Moving on, he opened the Daily Prophet article, hoping for something more useful.

“Obliviate is the incantation for a Memory Charm, a spell that erases specific memories from an individual’s mind. It is one of the most potent and potentially dangerous spells, as it can lead to severe and permanent memory loss if used incorrectly.”

His stomach churned as he read on, the words making his anxiety worse.

“The strength of the Obliviate spell depends on the caster, and in some cases, it can destroy memory so thoroughly that a witch or wizard may lose their sense of identity.”

Theo’s heart pounded in his chest. The thought of you losing yourself completely was unbearable. He couldn’t let that happen. For both your sakes—and Harry’s—this had to be fixable.

After jotting down some notes, Theo grabbed the next book, A History of Magic, and started skimming through it. Most of the information was redundant, but then his eyes caught something that made his blood run cold.

“Reversing the effects of Obliviate is extremely difficult, if not impossible in some cases. Restoration of memories may require highly specialized magical treatment and is not always successful. Memory Charms could be broken through torture.”

Theo nearly gagged. The mere thought of you being hurt, let alone tortured, was more than he could bear. He forced himself to push those dark thoughts aside, continuing to scan the text. His eyes widened as he came across a bold warning.

“Caution: If the spell is carelessly cast, the brain will be in a delicate state. If you stress this person too much or aren’t careful when trying to restore their mind/memories, the results could be unpredictable, even leading to a complete breakdown of the mind.”

“Side effects may include headaches, fainting, vomiting, bloody noses, and/or completely losing themselves. Keep the person calm, distract them, or give them a Sleeping Draught.”

Theo’s heart seemed to stop. He’d seen you suffer from a headache earlier, and now he was certain that the spell had left you in this delicate state. Despair gnawed at him as he realized how little progress he was making. The hope of finding a safe way to restore your memories was slipping through his fingers.

Reluctantly, Theo acknowledged that he needed to tell Harry what he’d found. Your friends might make things worse if they tried to help without knowing the risks. Gathering his things, Theo abruptly stood up, leaving the mess on the table behind as he hurried out of the library. He needed to find those blithering idiots—your friends—before they unintentionally made things worse.

But as Theo stepped into the hallway, he was surprised to find the castle cloaked in darkness. Hours had slipped away unnoticed, swallowed by his mounting anxiety and frantic search for answers. The realization hit him hard—he’d spent the entire day buried in books with nothing to show for it but a sense of helplessness.

He leaned against the cold stone wall, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. The weight of his failure pressed down on him, but he knew he couldn’t afford to crumble now. Tomorrow, he’d have to face them—your friends. They’d have to work together, whether he liked it or not.

Theo took a deep breath, the resolve hardening within him. First thing tomorrow, Theo vowed, he’d get them involved. No matter what it took, he wouldn’t stop until everything was set right.

Morning couldn’t come soon enough. Theo barely slept, his mind too consumed with worry about you. The absence of your familiar presence beside him made the night feel endless—he longed to wake up and see your peaceful face, to trace the contours of your features like he used to. What he wouldn’t give to have that back.

He needed to reach Harry quickly; there was no time to waste. Theo jumped out of bed and dressed hurriedly, ignoring the curious glances from his dorm mates—he was never up this early. 

Bounding up the stairs to the Gryffindor entrance, he didn’t care that he irritated the portrait lady as she reluctantly let him in. Thankfully, he found Harry’s dorm room without much trouble, and quietly crept inside. Theo moved to Harry’s bed, clamping a hand over his mouth, startling him awake.

Harry jolted, wide-eyed and reaching for his wand before realizing it was Theo, which did little to ease his nerves. Theo, unbothered by Harry’s panic, rolled his eyes and pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. He motioned for Harry to follow, stepping back toward the door and waiting for him to get dressed.

Once Harry left a note for Ron, the two headed out, Harry nervously trailing behind Theo. They made their way to a secluded corner of the library, where Theo suddenly stopped, causing Harry to nearly bump into him. Theo turned to face him, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

“Things are worse than I thought, Potter,” Theo began, his tone cold. “Her condition is more fragile than we realized.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, trying to keep his voice steady, though the guilt of what he had done was eating away at him. You had always been there for him, and now, because of him, you were suffering.

“Because you didn’t mean to cast the spell on her, it left her mind in a delicate state,” Theo explained, barely containing his frustration. “We can’t let anything stress her out. The side effects could be devastating, and we could lose her completely if we don’t handle this right.”

Harry nodded, already sensing where this conversation was headed. Despite the tension between them, he knew they had no choice but to work together. “What do we do?”

Theo sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know yet, but what I do know is that I’m the only thing missing from her memories. We need to keep researching.”

“We should tell the others too,” Harry suggested, realizing the importance of getting everyone on the same page.

Theo agreed, though with a note of urgency. “You go get them. I needed to talk to you first before they start interrupting.”

As Harry left to gather Ron and Hermione, Theo stepped out into the corridor, his nerves on edge. It had been two days since he last had a cigarette, and the stress was getting to him. He pulled one out, lit it, and inhaled deeply, letting the familiar sensation calm him as the cool morning air brushed against his face.

His thoughts drifted to you—how you’d always hold your breath when he smoked, jokingly scolding him but never actually asking him to quit. You hated the smell, but you’d still kiss him if he asked. The memory brought a small, bittersweet smile to his face.

As he spotted the trio approaching out of the corner of his eye, Theo sighed and flicked the cigarette out the window.

“So, what does this tosser want?” Ron muttered as they neared. Ron had never liked Theo, always suspecting he had ulterior motives with you.

Theo rolled his eyes. “I’m here to make sure you lot don’t make things worse,” he retorted.

Ron glared at him, ready to snap back, but Hermione quickly intervened. “You mean Trouble?” she asked, concern clear in her voice.

Theo bristled at the nickname—he always found it annoying and unoriginal. “Who else?” he replied, irritation seeping into his tone. “You have to keep her calm. There are too many risks involved, and we can’t afford to make her condition worse.”

“How do we fix it?” Hermione asked, her worry for you evident.

“We don’t know yet,” Harry admitted, “but we can’t stress Trouble out, while we figure it out.”

Theo added, his voice firm, “If she starts to realize she’s lost memories, don’t tell her what they are—especially not about me. She doesn’t remember anything about us, only what came before. If you spring it on her, it could be catastrophic.”

“Why should she remember you anyway? I’d say that’s a win, don’t you think?” Ron sneered, a smirk playing on his lips.

Harry’s eyes widened in alarm, and he quickly stepped in front of Ron, blocking Theo from moving closer. “He’s joking! We’re going to fix this,” Harry assured, trying to defuse the situation.

Theo’s jaw clenched as he struggled to keep his temper in check. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm, and rolled his head to the side before continuing.

He explained the potential side effects, what to watch out for, and how to keep you calm if a situation arose. They agreed to meet regularly throughout the week to share their findings and come up with a plan.

With everything said, the trio left Theo standing in the hallway as they headed back to the Great Hall—and to you.

Theo watched them go, the weight of the situation pressing down on him like a stone. As much as he disliked relying on Harry and his friends, he knew they were all you had now. And if they didn’t handle this right, it could ruin everything.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly as he tried to clear his thoughts. He needed to stay focused, to keep his head straight if they were going to find a solution. There was no room for mistakes, no second chances. They had to get this right or lose you forever.

If you enjoyed, please reblog or comment! Your words keep me motivated to write.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[pynkgothicka]

Ｇａｎｇｓｔａ ＪＪＫ

Ask/Req-Should do one where OC basically gets taught all her life skills from Jungkook(maybe) and he can mold her anyway he wants- wether it’s cute and innocent, or just oblivious. Maybe OCs parents were never hands on in the slightest and that left her to group up with only Jungkook there for her

Synopsis- Jungkook’s soft spot is you. The love of his life, someone who was given to him and will love him forever and through all his days.

Pairing - Yandere! Dark! Mobster! Jungkook x AFAB! Reader

Featuring - No one!

Tags and Warnings - Murdered Parents, hints towards a dark relationship, some smut

Authors Note - This took me so long! I’m sorry guys!!

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

Jungkook was the kindest guy you had ever met. He was easily the love of your life. Even if you were in college with no one else, there was nobody in comparison to him. How he shielded you from the world he preached about being so evil, the man who saved you from your family. Jungkook would go leaps and bounds for you.

You stood in deep thought, awaiting his arrival to get you from the university grounds, the icy winter air swirling around you. At last, you perked up to only hear the rumble of Jungkook's loud motorcycle engine.

You smile as you see him whip his motorcycle into the parking lot. His leather jacket and ripped denim only make the man you adore even more attractive. His bike slows down in front of you; he takes off his helmet, revealing his black hair.

His shirt was covered in sweat as he gave you a signature smile. “Hey baby, I'm sorry I was late."Hey baby, sorry I'm late," he said, shifting to let you on. You wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head against his back.

You mumble softly, "It's okay, I know you won't forget about me." You take a deep breath of his jacket, the scent a mixture of weed and spearmint. The odor would make others nauseous, but you find it comforting and familiar. “I just can’t wait to make it back to your place.”

🏍️

Jungkook fed you cotton candy grapes as you lounged in his apartment, making sure to cater to his one and only. With one hand scrolling mindlessly through his phone, his other hand brought the grapes to your lips, the tips of his tattooed fingers brushing over them each time, eliciting giggles from you with the sweet gesture.

Jungkook's loving gaze met yours, and he smiled. "Are you staying the night again?" he asked, putting his phone down to give you his full attention - something he had done for most of his life.

"I'm not sure if my parents are home right now," you say quietly to your boyfriend. “Besides I don't want to go home, my dad's being well himself again.” His gaze turns soft with understanding, and he feeds you another grape to sweeten the sorrowful moment. As the sweetness spreads across your tongue, you feel the sadness fading away. Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his lap. His hands trace the curve of your body tenderly.

He understood how your parents mistreated you, ignoring you to indulge themselves as if you didn't belong to them. Yelling at you and shoving you aside to satisfy their desires - that was typical of mafia parents, and he would know. But now he led his gang, and he vowed he'd never treat you as cruelly as others had. He always made sure to distract you when your mind wandered to such thoughts.

While kissing your neck, he slid his hands over your backside, eliciting a blissful yet pleading whine from you. "Koo, remember no hickeys," you said softly. With a sigh, he detached himself from you.

“Fine no hickies, but I want to ruin you, baby.” He says snickering and pulling off your shirt. his mouth attaches to your breast as he moans around it. His lips suck on your areola, tongue lapping at the exposed breast. You let out languid moans as your hands go to his shirt, pulling it over his head as he pulls away. His eyes stared at you as you looked back panting.

You go to unhook your bra, revealing yourself to Jungkook. “I'm so needy for you.” You mutter into his neck littering the skin with kisses and hickies. He lets out a groan, his hands moving to dig into your ass. Small crescents form and you let out a lewd groan. “Don’t ever leave me Koo…”

"You know I could never replace you, for no one could ever be good enough to take your place," he said poetically, connecting your lips once again.

🏍️

After fulfilling his promise to ruin you, Jungkook put you to bed as he had urgent business to attend to. Not wanting you anywhere near his work, he made sure to leave you be. With a kiss on your forehead and lending you his jacket for comfort, he left.

Jungkook sat in a chair, glaring at your parents, whom he had kidnapped and brought to the base of his operations. As your mother stirred awake, his eyes narrowed. "Welcome back to reality," Jungkook sneered as he approached her chair.

"Jungkook? What the fuck is this?" Your mother hissed angrily. She tettered in her chair. He smiles as he places his finger on her lips. He then pulled out a gun and shot her dead in the head. He never had a problem with her, nothing too serious to be upset about. The quicker she was gone, the easier things could be.

But him.

He was the one who neglected the person to whom he had devoted all of his life. So, with his wife gone, everything would be much more satisfactory when he made him pay.

Speaking of, he watched as your dad stirred awake. His eyes went to the side of him seeing his wife was dead, a bullet going straight through her head. “God no. Please no… not her.” He mumbled before struggling in his seat.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” Jungkook mumbled going behind him. His hand went to the back of your father's neck, the grip hurting before he started to squeeze. “Seems kind of unfair doesn’t it?”

Your dad started to rage internally. “Y-You killed her? Why we gave you everything you could've ever wanted, shit you practically own my daughter what more could you want?” He said as soon as Jungkook's grip let up. He watched in horror as the man just laughed, all Jungkook could do was laugh in his face.

“You still hurt her though. How could you just leave your daughter like that… just having to settle with being around me? You are actually kind of lucky that she loves me. But I mean it's not like she spent any time with anyone else.” Jungkook started to walk around your father, taunting him with nothing but his thoughts. “She loves me, practically worships the ground I walk on. I mean thats a benefit for me, but pretty shitty for you. I get to finally kill you for all the pain you caused her.”

Your father started to scream and Jungkook allowed him. But finally, he had enough before stuffing the man's mouth with a towel filled with gasoline. “Scream and you’ll choke. I mean no one heard you but it got annoying pretty quickly. Now Shh, and let me do what I have to do.”

🏍️

“Koo? Where did you go?” You mumbled feeling strong arms wrap around you. You leaned into his touch groaning at the comforting feeling of his skin on yours.

“Had to take care of something, sorry for leaving.”

“It's fine, just tell me beforehand.”

“Of course, I love you.”

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7 @looneybleus @whipwhoops

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire

chapter 18: the ties that bind

masterlist playlist

18+ MDNI

If you've come this far in the series, you know what to expect. No physical violence in this final chapter, but there might be some jealousy, protective/jealous Eddie, and threats. Steve with an OC character, parental Stobin, unprotected sex, oral, and meeting the extended family. Can't say goodby without a glimpse of Charlene. Reader is an artist and a vegetarian, but I try hard to keep away from any physical description.

word count: 15k

official author's note will be at the end of this chapter. I cherish you, my I'm on Fire fam, I'm so grateful for the ride, and I hope you enjoy this one.

"It's a long dark highway and a thin white line Connecting baby, your heart to mine."

-- the ties that bind, Bruce Springsteen

The next morning, a new Henderson opened her eyes to the world. 

Steve was the next one to hold her after her parents, and he hadn’t expected to cry, to have his throat close up around his emotions and choke him when he was told they named her Stevie.  He held her so close but so gentle and he barely noticed how wet his cheeks were until Robin came close and rubbed her palm in circles on his back.

“She kinda looks like me. That’s weird right?” Steve hushed, voice catching in a tearful hiccup. He was already thinking of the tattoo he would get with her name, inside his arm, close to his heart. 

“Yeah, that is weird and impossible, Dingus,” Robin smiled into his shoulder, stroking a loving arc over Stevie’s little infant forehead with her finger.  “But she kinda does.”

The labor had been long, the sun was up, and everyone was exhausted.  Astrid was at the house making breakfast while you and Eddie looked after Oliver.  He insisted on watching Pee-Wee Herman's Big Adventure again, and that was when you learned it was one of Eddie’s favorites as well; he knew every line by heart.  He mimicked Ollie with the chant, “I know you are but what am I, I know you are but what am I?”

And it was only then that you realized why Eddie had made a joke once about violently cutting off your mattress tag, the one that specifically said DO NOT REMOVE. Also, it explained why Steve so ardently wanted to start his own biker gang called Satan’s Helpers.

After breakfast, Eddie took you back to the Hammer to get your car, and even though you didn’t want to socialize, you were also in no mood to be stranded at your place without wheels.  Jackie reminded you that you looked like shit on your way through the smoky haze from the late morning drinkers.  You simply nodded in silent agreement, and it wasn’t so much a nod as your head lazily bobbing on a spring.  Your internal clock was out of whack, and you desperately needed a shower.  A shower and a soak in the healing waters of some type of magical pond that could heal you from the inside out. 

Maybe a month on a beach somewhere.

And then you pictured Eddie in a pair of loud, tropical swim trunks and giggled to yourself.

You were just about to leave the locker room with your paycheck and a few of your things, when tall, blonde Erika pushed in with a concerned look on her face, making you back up.  She shut the door behind her and leaned against it, covering the “Safety in the Workplace” poster. 

“Hey, so, that guy is here looking for you again,” her whisper was urgent.

Your heart sank for a second as the memory of Craig gripped you.  You had to remind yourself that he was long gone.  

But you wondered if a part of him would always be lurking somewhere near, haunting you from beyond the grave.

Your next guess was Chief Hopper, maybe he had more questions for you.  

“What guy?” You were hoping she had a clue, or asked a name, so that you could prepare yourself, doing your best to smooth out the front of your shirt.

She only shrugged.  “He’s older, Paul Newman type. Smells like he’s made of money. This is the third time he’s been here asking about you.”

It still didn’t ring any bells, but you’d only slept a half hour on the couch curled up next to Eddie while Pee-Wee stormed the Alamo looking for his bike.  

You took a slow peek around the corner of the bar from the hallway and saw John Gregson sitting there with a drink in his hand. Full head of salt n’ pepper hair slicked back off his face, wearing one of his signature gray suits. 

Was he by himself?  The way Charlene had been popping up like a bad rash lately, you almost expected to see her there, playing the dutiful wife.  

You hid yourself in the hallway again, wondering if you had it in you to have a conversation with anyone, let alone him.

To say his face “lit up” when he saw you would be an understatement; He looked as if you’d been pulled from the rubble of a burning building, and he thought he would never see you again.  

You found it hard to match the enthusiasm, even though he’d turned out to be a decent guy.  

He stood up from his stool and Shana gave you both a curious look from behind the bar as she poured a shaken martini into a glass. She was wearing one of her long, black wigs that day with Bettie Page bangs.  

“It’s good to see you,” he gestured to the seat next to him, his icy blue eyes shone like the Mediterranean Sea. “It’s been a while.”

You sank one hip onto the padded stool so that one foot was still on the ground.  You didn’t want him to think you were staying for too long.

“I’m sorry I’m so behind on your painting, life has been—”

He put his hand up, palm out to you.  It was his left hand and you noticed that he was not wearing his wedding ring.  

“Please, don’t worry about the painting.  Take all the time you need, that’s not why I’m here.  Can I buy you lunch?”

“I-I…” you fumbled.  “I was just on my way out.”

“A drink then?” He cleared his throat and shifted closer casually so that his knee was touching yours. He swirled his drink in his hand.  “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about and I didn’t feel it was appropriate to do it over the phone.”

Your anxiety spiked a bit, and it wasn’t as if he was a serial killer or anything, but his sudden shift in proximity gave you pause.  You asked Shana for an iced tea and gestured for him to follow you to one of the more isolated tables against the dark red wall, underneath a framed Led Zeppelin poster.  He pulled your chair out for you before getting settled with his gin and tonic, making sure to use one of the black cocktail napkins as a coaster. 

“I know you’re busy,” he cleared his throat. “So, permit me to get right to the point.” He removed the two stir straws from his drink and put them on the napkin.

 “First of all, I’d like to apologize for my wife. I believe she’s caused you quite a bit of trouble.”

You had not expected that one

His stare was too intense, you had to shift your attention and take a gulp of your drink.

“You see,” he settled back, keeping his forearms on the table.  “I met Charlene when I was barely out of high school, we were together before I made my money, and I always felt like I owed her my blind devotion.  Lately it’s obvious that we only make each other miserable.”

He continued.  “I’m not a stupid man. I always knew about the other boyfriends, not that she made much of an effort to hide it,” he smiled wryly to himself.  “Not to bore you with the details of my failed marriage, but I know that Charlene’s the reason you lost your job at the gallery, and I’d like to rectify that, if I can.”

Realization dawned at his words.  Why hadn’t you put those pieces together earlier? Of course Charlene was the reason you lost your job, she probably threatened to remove her funding and ruin Judith.  

You could barely catch up to what he was saying before he started again.  “I’m opening a gallery in Chicago, and I’d like you to come out and run it.”

You choked and had to cover your mouth with the back of your hand.  “Excuse me?”

John smiled so genuinely at your reaction that the skin around his eyes crinkled.  He undid a button on his suit jacket to get more comfortable. “You’d have full creative license, you’d be able to hire your team, do with it what you wish.  I trust your vision.”

It was that opportunity you’d been dreaming about for years, the one you’d been working toward for almost a decade.  

So easy, just like that.

Here, take it, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

…but was it?

Your head swam, vision tunneling slightly as you glanced around the Velvet Hammer.  You imagined Steve on his stool at the door and Eddie pulling you aside in the hallway to kiss you.  The song Everlong by The Foo Fighters was on, and you thought about how Chicago was over three hours away.  You’d have to move; it was much too far for a commute.

“That’s such a generous offer, I…I don’t know what to say?” 

“You don’t have to say anything right now,” and before you knew what was happening, his hand slid across the table and was on top of your fingers. 

Your eyes flashed to his hand over yours and you sat there shocked while your need to be polite overrode your core instincts. 

“I know there’s a lot to think about,” he continued, removing his hand to cup it around his drink again.  “Of course, I’d pay for all of your moving expenses.  I own a building downtown with an artist loft I think you might be interested in.  You’d have plenty of room to live and paint, start fresh, if you wanted to.”

Start fresh.

You felt like Shana had slipped a psychedelic into your tea, like you were melting into your chair.  Your brain was having a hard time keeping up with the reality of what was being offered.  

He tossed back another sip and wiped the corners of his mouth, looking almost unsure if he should say the next part.  “Charlene and I—” he licked his perfectly straight teeth in contemplation. “---we’ve decided to go our separate ways.  We’re selling the lake house, a few other properties, and she’s planning to move to Hawaii to be near her sister.”

A thought zipped through your mind then. How long had Charlene known she was leaving? Why would she become a partner in The Velvet Hammer and then move to Hawaii?

“That means I’ll be at my condo in Chicago most of the time, unless I’m traveling for business,” he gave you a pointed look again.  “There are so many places I’d love to take you to in the city.  If you are interested, that is.”

“Well,” you laughed nervously. “I’d need to talk to my boyfriend about it. About the job, I mean.  Moving to Chicago. His whole life is here.”

“Certainly,” John nodded, not missing a beat. “You talk to him and when you’re ready, you have my number. The gallery space I’m buying needs work, so I’d like to fly you out there in a week to take a look at it, once you decide.”

You were still staring glassy eyed at the edge of the table after John stood and left the Hammer.  You hadn’t remembered to breathe in god knew how long, so you tried that, letting out a hard exhale that made a cocktail napkin go flying off the table.

Would Eddie move with you? Visit you on the weekends? The latter seemed more likely but also not, considering how demanding his work schedule was.  Katie told you that Robin had asked her to move in, and you were overjoyed for her.  She’d be paying her share of the rent and utilities for the next month, but after that you’d either need to find a smaller place or a new roommate because you couldn’t afford your duplex on a Velvet Hammer salary.  

One week was all you had.

Did you even need a week? Surely you knew your answer.

—-------

The tires on the tow truck screeched to a stuttering halt out on a Hawkins back road lined with cornfields.

Behind the wheel, Eddie idled there, right in front of that familiar white picket fence around the big yard and the farmhouse with a porch swing and a red barn in back.

Eddie knew the details of the old Ferguson place by heart, it had been his dream house ever since he was in high school and used to take long rides on his bike to clear his head.  The couple that had spent their life raising a family there were in their 80’s now, and he’d heard through the grapevine that they were relocating to a retirement community.  To a smaller place that was easier to care for.  All of their children were grown and lived far away.

The newest addition to the house was where his eyes fell.  

His attention fixed on the sign at the end of the driveway for a long while, heart thudding in his chest.

The old Ferguson Farmhouse was for sale.

—---

The next day was the Welcome Home Baby Stevie barbeque at Steve’s and he had a blue “Kiss the Cook” apron on and a spatula in his bandaged hand when you and Eddie arrived.  He wore an elastic bracelet made of colorful plastic beads around his wrist that you assumed was a new gift from Oliver.  The sky was bright blue, almost blinding, and the air was crisp. 

“You sure you’re okay?” Eddie asked on the way up the driveway to Robin and Steve’s backyard where the lawn had been neatly mowed and edged.  “Anything you want to talk about?”

You hated keeping things from him, but you had no idea how to bring up John’s offer, or if you even wanted to mention it.  Eddie had invited you over to his place the night before, but you’d told him you needed some time alone to get to bed early.  Turns out that being alone with your thoughts only made it worse.

“No, I’m fine my love, I promise,” you leaned into him.  “I’m just tired.”

He put his arm around your shoulders to scoop you closer and kiss your ear.  “I’m gonna take care of you tonight.  Make you a bath, pour you some wine, kiss you all over.  How does that sound?”

“It sounds—” you felt emotions water your eyes suddenly and you blinked it away as quickly as you could.  “That sounds perfect.”

You felt guilty that you were even considering John’s offer, but how could you not? A very hopeful part of you said that both were a possibility, that you could keep Eddie and have your dream job in the city. But how? You couldn’t take Eddie away from Wayne and Oliver and his business, you would never ask that of him.  

“Is Wayne coming?” You asked, noticing you did not see his truck.  Also, your thoughts were racing again and you needed a distraction.

“He’ll be here later,” Eddie assured you.  “Astrid is picking him up on her way over.  Max and Lucas stopped by the garage for a visit and I didn’t want to disrupt the reunion.”

You felt a bit embarrassed at the mention of his longtime friend Max, only because you’d been made to believe that she was a mysterious redhead that Eddie was having an affair with not too long ago.

Thanks to Charlene.

You imagined that Hawkins would be a much better place without her lurking around every corner.  Was there a chance that Judith would take you back on at Moon River Gallery?  No, you had no desire to go crawling back to that place. Unless a new gallery opened, or your art took off to celebrity status, you’d be waitressing at the Hammer and squirreling away your tips for the foreseeable future.

But, you’d have Eddie.

You’d been spacing out so hard, you barely realized that Robin was standing in front of you, offering to take the sack with a Tupperware full of homemade potato salad and hamburger buns. Eddie was carrying your veggie burger patties that he bought especially for the occasion, and the fixings to make tofu skewers.  You told him you were a vegetarian once, and you never had to remind him again.  

“You good?” Robin asked, noting the way you shook your head a few times to come back to reality. Katie came up behind Robin to place her hands on her girlfriend’s hips before she moved over to your side.

“Have a beer with me?” Katie asked softly, reading the weariness in your slightly hunched shoulders.  

It was officially fall, but the weather was warm for Indiana in late September.  Eddie had on his Iron Maiden concert tee under his jacket from their 1985 World Slavery tour and black converse with his worn jeans, and he took his leather off and threw it on a lawn chair as he walked over to the grill.

“You better leave the hard stuff to me,” he said to Steve, shifting his gaze accusatory to grill.  The last time he let Steve grill your veggie burger, he’d charred it within an inch of its life.  

“Have at it,” Steve dusted his hands together.  “I have to go check on my pie in the oven.”

“You baked a pie?” Eddie gawked at him like he had hornets crawling out of his ears.  

“Well, Astrid made it,” he pinched a few sunflower seeds out of the front pocket of his apron and popped them in his mouth, chewing as he spoke. “It’s cherry,” he bobbed his eyebrows up and down a few times suggestively, and Eddie scoffed, elbowing him out of the way so that he could put his skewers down on the folding table.

You were just about to take the first sip of your beer when a man’s voice that was not familiar called over from the driveway.  

“There’s that long-haired freak I’ve been looking for.”

The skin on your arms prickled with gooseflesh and you spun around, thinking there was about to be some sort of trouble. 

Slightly unrealistic to think the worst, but you were understandably alert.

There at the edge of the lawn stood a tall, handsome guy you’d never laid eyes on before, maybe in his late 20’s, and he had a Coffin Kings cut on that was very similar to the one’s Eddie and Steve wore.  At his side, holding his hand was an adorable redhead. Her long hair was pulled through the back of a baseball cap, but you noted that the bright candy color was deeply familiar.  

You turned to see Eddie’s reaction like you were watching a tennis match.  

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he beamed.  “Look what the cat dragged in, "and he stopped what he was doing to make his way over with his arms out and the two hugged, giving each other hearty pats on the back.

“Max!” Robin squealed, practically doing a cartwheel in that direction.  You and Katie fell back and stood shoulder to shoulder, watching the group reconnect in a way that was very familial.  

Lucas and Max had been together since high school, you learned, and Lucas was a member of the Coffin Kings Indianapolis chapter.  The song Love Spreads by The Stone Roses played from Robin's portable boombox on the steps as the new arrivals meandered in to be with the rest of the gang and assimilated with ease.  

Eddie rested his hand on your lower back to introduce you, and instead of a handshake, Max went in for a hearty hug, and in your ear, she said, “Eddie loves you so much, I’ve been dying to meet you.”

When she pulled back to meet your eyes, you nodded, swallowing hard.  “I’ve heard so much about you,” you told her, and then Max shot a look at Eddie and made a crack about how she hoped it was all good things that you’d heard.

They were even more interested to meet Katie, being that Robin had not been serious about anyone since before Oliver was born.  Just then, the Oliver in question came bursting out of the house flying his hot dog bun through the air like a plane, making engine noises.  

By the time Dustin and Suzie came by with their new baby, the smell of burgers charring on the grill filled the air and you helped Steve bring some more chairs out to the lawn.  Eddie was taking much care to keep your vegetarian stuff away from the meat, and you couldn’t help but notice with deep adoration.

Astrid had a lot on her mind.  So much so that she didn’t have it in her to make the usual banter with Wayne that she enjoyed when they were together.

“You okay, darlin’?” Wayne turned to her in the truck on the way over.

“Oh,” she tucked a thick swatch of dark hair behind her ear. “You know, just thinking about how excited Steve must be about the new baby.”

There was a distinct melancholy in her voice.  One of the reasons the relationship between her and Steve had never gone any further than besties who make love was her refusal to take away his chance at a big family.  She was barely 21 when a doctor told her she’d never be able to conceive. Well, technically he said there was a small chance—a hairline percentage—but that it “would take an actual miracle”---those were his words.  

She loved Steve too much to not let him be a dad.  He was made for that life.  Ever since he was a teenager, he’d known he wanted to be a father, and once he had Oliver, she knew she’d done the right thing.  She’d tried to keep their relationship platonic time and time again, but in the end, the chemistry between them always proved to be too strong.  

She’d decided that she would love him until he found someone else, and then she would continue to love him from the shadows.  She’d given her heart long ago, and with him it would stay.  

“Hell, look at the head of hair on that kid,” Wayne said when Suzie introduced him to her daughter.  He gave a crooked grin and stroked a finger along the back of her tiny, exposed hand.  

At that, Dustin took his cap off and swiped a hand through his unruly mane.  “Thank god the rest of her looks take after her mother.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Lucas grumbled, thumping his friend in the arm.  

Steve had his back to the crowd when they came in and Astrid spanked him on the bum on her way up the stairs to the kitchen.

He spun on his heel and was quick to cage his arms around her so she could only squirm.  His face was flushed and glowing.  “You meet the kid?”

“I did,” normally, she would’ve kissed him, but instead she pulled back a bit, tilting her chin away.  “She’s so beautiful, Steve.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I—” she knew she was a fool to think he wouldn’t be able to read her face, a fool to think he couldn’t read her like a book after all of those years.  

Steve frowned, examining her face for a clue to her distress.  

Astrid’s stomach felt like she’d swallowed a lead weight.  

She hadn’t decided if she should tell him or not.

About the secret she’d been carrying with her for a few days.  

15 years, that’s how long she’d been in love with him.

Back when he was 19 and she was 23.

They’d known each other since they were little kids.

“I need to talk to you later,” she told him.

Steve dropped his arms from around her but held her hand.  “You can’t tell me now?”

She’d be 38 in December.

“Later, okay?” She winked at him to ease his suffering, and then made her way into the house, knowing that he stood there the whole time and watched her go. 

But later that day never came.  

Wayne wanted to get back and rest before his chemo treatment, and Dustin and his family only stayed for about an hour as they were all understandably still exhausted and wanting to recover at home.  

Astrid waved goodbye to Steve on her way out, and Steve stood up from his chair thinking he’d get a kiss, or at least a hug—but then she was gone.  

He tried not to think too much of it.  If he’d done something to upset her, she was never shy about letting him know.  Maybe she was tired of socializing, maybe she needed a break from him.

Lord knows he wished he could take a break from himself.  

Eddie looked over at where you stood talking with Max and Robin, and he recalled the conversation he’d had with Wayne a few days earlier.

“I don’t have to tell you you found a good one,” Wayne said from the couch in his trailer while Eddie sat next to him.  “I think you know they don’t come around very often.”

“Oh believe me, I know,” Eddie raked a hand through his hair, brushing his bangs off his forehead one, two, three times.  “I keep thinking one day she’s going to wake up and realize she could do a lot better.”

“You’ve done better than you give yourself credit for,” his uncle returned in a low, steady voice. 

When the next words came, Eddie felt a tightness in his throat:

“I’m proud of you, son.”

Wayne had a hard time leaving the house the day after his treatments, so Eddie always came by to bring him lunch and make sure he had everything he needed.  One day he came by to check on Wayne and found that you were already there, doing his dishes for him.

He’d never been with anyone who cared about the people in his life like that.  

Back at the barbeque, you slipped up next to him and planted your lips on his bicep, breathing in the sandalwood and leather of his scent.  “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Since you asked,” he smirked.  “I was thinking how I wish I’d met you a lot sooner.”

“How much sooner?” You batted eyes at him once he turned to face you. “In high school?”

Eddie made a yuck face.  “No, you would not have given me a chance in high school.  I would’ve been a lovesick puppy, but you probably wouldn’t have even known I existed.”

“Are you kidding?” You stuck the tip of your tongue out between your teeth, examining him.  “I would’ve jumped your bones so fast.”

“So fast, huh?” He chuckled, taking you by the hips. “What about now?”

He pulled you in and you hummed against his lips, trying not to get too horny right there in front of the guests.  

Lucas and Max would be in town for a couple days, so you and Eddie made plans to meet up at the Velvet Hammer when you were off work on Tuesday.  By the time the sun went down, all of the visitors were gone, and you were happy to head home as well after helping with some cleanup.  

“Robin and I can take care of it,” Katie nudged you away from trying to wash out a casserole dish at the sink. “You get out of here and go rest.  Make Eddie rub your feet or something.”

You both stopped what you were doing to look at each other.  

The way you were searching your friend’s face made her turn to give you her full attention.  In the background, you could hear Steve trying to convince Oliver to get his pajamas on and brush his teeth in a sing-song voice.  

“I can’t believe how much has happened in these past few months,” you still had soap bubbles popping on your wet hands and you slid them absently along the thighs of your jeans. 

Katie gave a thoughtful sniff.  “I think about it a lot,” she mused. “About that night on the couch at our place when you first told me about the guy who picked you up in the tow truck, and then meeting the boys at The Hideout and then—”

She cringed and covered her face with a dish towel, remembering her “date” with Steve.  “---it feels so surreal that Steve and I actually…well…I don’t want to think about it.  It’s too weird.”

“But then you and Robin found each other again,” you offered, thinking back to that first barbecue at their house when Eddie had to take off suddenly for secretive Coffin Kings business.  

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell your friend about the offer from John Gregson.  Katie knew you better than most people and you could always trust her advice to be on the mark.  

For some reason, you wanted to cry, just drop to your knees and start bawling right there on the kitchen floor.  For no one reason just

Everything

Katie caught the way your jaw moved like you were just about to say something, but then Eddie’s hands were snaking around to hold your back flush to his chest.  Your hair caught on his beard stubble when he leaned in, warm breath at your ear.  “You ladies need any help in here?”

You closed your eyes; you were glad to have him there. Glad to be in his arms, glad to know, in your heart, that he would always try his best for you.

But you were the one keeping a secret.  

Robin joined Katie at the sink and told you both to take a hike, lovingly.  

Steve came into the kitchen after you were both gone and the engine of Eddie’s Chevelle could be heard thundering down the road.

The first thing he did was pick up the beige, wall-mounted phone and call Astrid.  He stood there for a while with the receiver pressed to his ear and his other arm folded over his chest before he held the mouthpiece out in front of him and stared at it.

“She’s not answering,” he mumbled loud enough that the girls could hear.  

“Maybe she’s at Wayne’s? Did you check there?” Robin offered; her hair worn up in a haphazard ponytail.

Steve checked the clock first to make sure he wasn’t bothering Uncle too late, but it was barely 8:30 and he was probably up in his recliner watching M*A*S*H reruns.  

Wayne answered and they exchanged a few words, but then when Steve hung up again, he was quiet, contemplatively so.

“What did he say?” Robin asked impatiently, drying some silverware with a checkered towel.

Steve frowned.  “He said she dropped him off almost two hours ago and told him she was going home.”

He tried her house one more time and, again, no answer.  He let it ring five times but disconnected once her answering machine clicked on.  

“Maybe she went to bed early,” Katie shrugged.  “And turned the ringer off.”

Steve knew better; Astrid barely slept.  Normally, not being able to get a hold of her would not phase him, but something about the way she’d been acting that night set an alarm off in his gut.  

Outside, there was the sound like a firecracker bomb going off that shook the house.  Robin yelped and Steve bolted to the window to yank the yellow curtain back to see where it had come from.  

He got there just in time to see a streak of lightning crack the dark sky and a drizzle of rain hit the glass.  “Oh shit, good thing Eddie came in the Chevelle,” the droplets turned into a downpour as he stood there.  

“Looks like a hell of a storm is brewing.”

—----

Earlier that day, Charlene Gregson marched out of Murray Bauman’s office with her lawyer in tow.  She wore her oversized sunglasses and no expression on her face as they went down in the elevator and exited into the austere lobby.  She looked like a million bucks, which was probably the cost of all of the gold and diamond jewelry she had on.  

Outside on the busy street, her personal chauffeur was waiting by the Towncar to open the door for her while her lawyer, a pit-bull of a man named Saul, got in on the other side to slide in next to her.  Billy was out there waiting on his bike, to make sure no one bothered her on their way out.  He flicked his cigarette to the ground and revved the engine, angling to fall in line behind the Towncar.

“You sure this is what you want?” Saul posed the question to her as he slammed his door shut. They’d just thrown a lot of money at Murray and had him sign official documents.

Charlene sounded annoyed.  “It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it? The deal is done.”

He continued. “I suppose I’m still trying to wrap my head around why you would—” 

“I don’t pay you to ask personal questions,” she sniffed. “Just make sure there’s a smooth transition.  I don’t want to be having a cocktail on the beach and find out that you fumbled something, and I’m forced to fly back out here.”

The town car sailed into traffic and the two sat in silence for a few minutes until Charlene stared out the window at the passing buildings on their way back to the lake house. 

 “Have you ever been in love, Saul?” 

He was confused by the question and tapped his foot a few times.  “I can’t really say I have.” 

After recent events, and everything that he’d been tasked to do in her name for the benefit of someone else made him wonder. “What about you?”

“Only once,” she pressed her red lips together, eyes unblinking behind her sunglasses.  “And once will have to be enough.”

Saul assumed she meant her soon to be ex husband John, and so he left it at that.  

—-------

In a matter of seconds, the rain was coming down in sheets and the windshield wipers on the Chevelle were flapping back and forth at supernova speed.

“We could go back to my apartment if you want,” Eddie turned the Faith No More song down on the radio so that he could be heard over the rain.  “But your place is cozier, and I know both are fairly small but I’ve been wanting to talk to you about—”

“I think I want to stay at my place tonight,” you blurted it out, keeping your attention fixed on the dash, staring at nothing. “Alone, if that’s alright.” 

You could see in your peripheral vision that he turned to look at you, and you offered a reflexive smile, shoulders hunched a bit as if you were trying to fold  in on yourself.  

He smoothed his palm around the steering wheel and tried not to let the sensitive side of him that had been abandoned his whole life jump to conclusions.  Not everyone needed to sleep next to the person they loved every night; you wanting space was totally reasonable and had nothing to do with your feelings for him.

Right?

Just in case, he decided to make sure.  “Was it something I said or? Cause if there’s an issue between us, you know you can talk to me.”

For some reason, his insistence to have healthy communication irritated you.  Possibly because you knew he was right and you should put it all out on the table and talk to him, but you didn’t know how.  Your brain had barely been able to process the offer from John, let alone put the whole thing into words.

“It’s nothing you did,” you said softly.  “I just need time to think.”

Something about your tone and choice of words made his heart rate increase.  “Think about what?”

“Just stuff Eddie, okay? I don’t want to talk about it right now!” You snapped at him, for the first time ever.  

After everything with Erika and Charlene and Melanie and thinking he’d been cheating on you, you’d never lost your temper with him, and the two of you had never had a fight.  As much as you knew that arguments and disagreements were a very normal part of intimate relationships, you still felt like shit the second the words came out with such vitriol.

There it was, Eddie’s biggest fear: you were pulling away from him.  

He’d suffocated you just like he was prone to do.  He was “too much”, and now you were getting sick of him.  

For the next few minutes of the drive to your place, neither of you said a word.  

You because you didn’t want to take your confusion and anxiety out on Eddie, and Eddie because he didn’t want to sound like a whiny, needy bitch and make things worse.    

He parked up in your driveway to get you close to the door, but he kept the engine running to let you know he was honoring your wish to drop you off and let you be.  

You took a deep breath and flipped the manual lock up with two fingers.

“Wait, let me—” he was about to get out and come around to hold his coat out for you so that you wouldn’t get wet, but you were too quick for him.

“I’ll be fine, goodnight.” you were soaked the second you stepped out, fumbling in the pocket of your bag to find your keys.

“I love you,” Eddie’s voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the weather.

“Love you too,” you said quickly, and then you were bolting for the house, wishing you’d left the porch light on.  

Once you were inside, you clicked the deadbolt shut and watched the beam of Eddie’s headlights retreat.

This was ridiculous.  You were being ridiculous.  

There’s a beautiful man out there who treats you better than you’ve ever been treated in your whole life.  

You threw your bag on the floor and undid the lock to jerk open the door again.

You stumbled out into the rain.  “Eddie wait!”

But all you could see were his taillights as he pulled onto the main street and drifted away.  

—------

Back at her house, Astrid let the phone ring.

At one point, she had her hand on it, ready to pick up, but then decided against it.  

It was impossible for her to be fake with Steve, but she also wasn’t ready to be as forthcoming as she needed to be.  

She stood at the table and looked at the paperwork from the doctor's office one more time before she made her way over to the couch and hugged a pillow to her chest to let the tears fall hot and heavy.  

She had her eyes closed, so she didn’t notice the lights approaching in the driveway or hear Steve shouting her name from the sidewalk as he stood out in the rain.

He’d borrowed Robin’s car to ease his mind and make sure Astrid was okay.  What if she had slipped and hit her head or something? What if she was there with another dude? Also, a possibility under their “don’t ask, don’t tell” relationship agreement.    

The white t-shirt he had on was soaked through, making the tattoos underneath look like they were a design imprinted on the material that hugged his muscles.  

He banged on the door with the side of his fist and shouted her name again. 

By then, Astrid could hear him, but she stayed curled on the couch and waited in vain for him to give up and leave.  

—--

Eddie scowled to himself as he parked the Chevelle in one of the garages and made his way across the parking lot and up the steps to his apartment, shaking his wet hair like a dog.  He could hear a few of the guys partying in the clubhouse, and he thought about joining them, but realized his spirits were too low to be social. There was a punching bag in the back office where he normally did his workouts to burn off steam, but he wasn’t in the mood for that either.  

He told himself he would check on you first thing in the morning, but then it occurred to him that you might not want to hear from him right away.  He wanted to respect your wishes, your boundaries.  

He didn’t want to smother you.

On the nightstand next to his phone was the card for the real estate agent he’d visited the day before.  There was a room on the second floor of the Ferguson farmhouse with a view of the big backyard and he imagined setting some easels up to make it a place for you to paint.  It had a big living room with a fireplace and a workshed in the barn.  He wanted to talk to you about it, to ask if maybe you could see yourself living there.  With him.  

But now he wondered if things were moving too fast.  

He crossed his arms over his body and took his shirt off in the bathroom mirror.  He rubbed a hand down his stomach, noting the areas of skin that were not covered in inked designs.  The fanged bat with wings spread wide on his chest, the dragon design on his bicep, the grim reaper on his forearm.  A crude dagger made to look like it pierced his skin just under his rib cage that said, “true friends stab you in the front”.  There were other bits of traditional biker flash scattered around that Steve had doodled on him over the past decade.  On his other forearm was a memorial tattoo for his mother with her name, the year she died, and an angel statue with eyes that dripped blood, surrounded in roses and thorns, and the thorns came down over the back of his hand.  It was done in a way so that the bats that had been inked there earlier were still visible.  

He was barely 15 when another friend inked HELLFIRE on his knuckles.  It was done with a homemade tattooing gun like the ones used in prison, and the letters had to be redone later because they were basically chicken scratches.  One of the other earliest ones was the skull with a snake through it on his opposite bicep with his nickname “War Machine” underneath.  

Some days, he wanted to get them all removed and start over.

Other days, he wanted to go balls to the wall like Steve and be inked from ear to foot.  

He threw his soaked shirt in the hamper and was just about to grab a beer out of the small fridge near his desk to take into the shower with him—

but then there was a knock at the door.  

At first, he thought it was one of the other Coffin Kings, trying to drag him down to get plastered with them, but then he noticed that the rapping of knuckles was soft, cautious even.  

“Eddie?”

His head snapped around at the sound of the voice.

It was you. 

—------

Steve held his finger on the doorbell, relentlessly.  “Astrid, if you don’t answer the goddamn door, I’m gonna break it down!  You know I will!”

Astrid wiped her face, flapping her hand to dry her eyes and cheeks to the best of her ability.  She still had on the flowy, floral, maxi dress with an empire waist that she’d worn at the barbeque, and she wrapped a black shawl around her shoulders as she stomped begrudgingly to the door. 

Just as she was about to reach up to unlock the safety chain, there was a loud thud from Steve’s foot slamming into the wood, vibrating the hinges.

“Steve stop!” She yelled, fussing with the second lock on the doorknob.  

She yanked the door back and there he was: soaked to the bone. 

There was only a short awning over her front steps, and so he was standing as close to the frame as possible while more thunder rumbled in the distance. His wet hair had flopped into his eyes, and he swiped it back with a twist of his head, spitting to the sidewalk as he did so.  

His expression was one of anger at first, but then it melted into confusion when he could tell right away that she had been crying.  “Why aren’t you answering your phone?”

“This is a bad time,” she stayed blocking the entrance, although the yearning in his eyes was actively testing her resolve.

“The hell it is?” He pushed. He shifted to see behind her, as if there was someone or something she was hiding.  “You’re upset, I can tell.  Let me in.”

“No.” That was her answer, but Steve wasn’t having it.

He stomped up onto the threshold, wet hair dripping onto her face as he closed in, bracing his hand on the door so that she couldn’t shut it.  “Why don’t you want to see me?”

She tried to look everywhere but his face, but then his hand caught her chin and guided her eyes up to meet his. 

 “Talk to me,” he whispered from lips dotted in water droplets.  

There was a tug of war going on in her heart, and in the end, Steve won.  He always did.  

She didn’t invite him in properly, she just turned on her heel and left the door open, knowing he would follow her into the living room.  

His boots squeaked from all the moisture on her hardwood floors.  He always liked to take his shoes off when he came to see her, but it was too late for that.  He found her sitting on the couch in the dark, but he could only see the outline of her curly hair.

“Why are you sitting here without any lights on?” He reached down and flicked on a tiny wicker lamp that was on the nearby bookshelf.  

“You ask a lot of questions,” she mumbled.

He pinched the front of his shirt to peel it from his body and flapped it a few times as if that would dry it out. “What did you want to talk to me about at the barbeque?”

“You’re soaking wet,” she got a good look at him in the light and suddenly felt bad that she’d made him wait out there.

“No kidding?” He snorted sarcastically. 

“You left some of your clothes here last time. I folded them in the third drawer,” she hugged the pillow.  “Get into something dry and then we can talk.”

He stripped down to his underwear right there in front of her, staring at her the entire time, as if he was worried she would bolt and try to hide from him. His patchwork of colorful tattoos was a jumble of loud expressions of his aggression and passion.  In honor of his nickname Taz, he had several Tasmanian devils doing various things including riding a motorcycle and one on the back of his arm giving onlookers the middle finger.  The ones on the front of his thighs were all self-done when he was just a kid, practicing his craft.  When he was a teenager, he used to tease her and call her “Asteroid” and just above his knee was an asteroid with a fire tail crashing toward a heart-shaped earth.  Besides the Seek and Destroy tattoo on the side of his throat, his skin was full of phrases, including the big “FTW” letters in an arc under his ribcage that stood for “Fuck the World”.   

He went into her bedroom and brought out a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt with “Gary’s Plumbing” advertised on the front pocket.  He dressed in front of her as well, keeping a relentless eye.

“You really are ridiculous, you know that?” She put her chin in her palm and waited patiently for the show to be over.  

He flapped his arms out to his sides like a little kid waiting for approval on his outfit. “Okay, beautiful. I’m dry.  Time to spill the beans.”

“Can you sit down, please?” Her heart flopped in her chest as she considered the words that were about to come out of her mouth and the effect, they would have on him.

In Steve’s experience, when someone asked you to sit down before they told you something, it was always their attempt to soften the blow of bad news.  “Why can’t you just tell me now? You’re freaking me out, babe.”

“Steve,” She pleaded sternly.  “Trust me, I need you to sit down for this.”

—------

Eddie barely had time to greet you before you were pushing by him to get into the studio apartment.  You were hugging yourself, and anxiety had your stomach in knots.  

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

Eddie stood at the door, keeping his back to you while he locked it.  He was shirtless, dark hair dripping down the pale muscles that flexed under his flesh.  

You looked around, trying to decide if you should sit or stand when your gaze landed on the painting you’d done for him after that first time you met.  He had it displayed front and center, right above his desk on the main navy-blue wall, as if it were the most important piece in the room.

You were pacing when he turned toward you, the wheels in your mind spinning.

When he got closer, you stepped further away, but he caught your wrist.  “Hey, why can’t you look at me? What’s going on?”  His voice was sterner than he’d intended it to be.  

“I can look at you,” you made yourself meet his stare to prove his point, but it was difficult. You felt like he could see right through you; all of your doubts, all of your fears and insecurities. 

“Sit,” he directed you over to the end of the bed, facing the small sitting area with where there was a couch and a coffee table in front of an old Zenith tv.

Next to you, the mattress sank under his weight, but in your mind, you were somewhere else.  

“So, is this it?” He released a heavy breath and started to play with one of the rings on his hand, pulling it up the finger and then pushing it back down to the knuckle.

“What do you mean?”

It was he who couldn’t look at you now.  “Are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” You blurted it, eyebrows pinching together in frustration with the way you couldn’t get the words out.  “That’s not…I didn’t mean…I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

A rush of endorphins filled him with temporary relief while he waited for your next words.

You stretched your neck from side to side, swallowed hard, and then you told him.

You told him about John’s offer to run your own gallery in Chicago, the opportunity to have the artists loft you’d always dreamed of.  You picked at a piece of skin on the side of your thumb as you talked.

“But I said I needed to talk to you about it first,” you added.

Eddie got to his feet and went over to look out the window over the garage parking lot. “Sounds like a pretty sweet deal,” he mumbled.  

You weren’t breaking up with him, but you were, in fact, leaving him, which was much the same thing.

“Well, it’s complicated,” you said, watching as he went over to snatch his pack of smokes and lighter off of the coffee table.  

“Doesn’t sound complicated to me,” the cigarette bobbed between his pinched lips as he talked, cupping his hand to light the end.  “Sounds like you already know what your answer is.”

“I wouldn’t be talking to you about it if I’d already made my decision,” you countered.  “I want to know what you think.”

“Well,” he scoffed, exhaling a sharp plume of smoke down his chin. His eyes were much darker now, almost black.  “No one in their right mind would choose to stay in Hawkins, not with an opportunity like that on the table.” 

He almost added, “no loser biker boyfriend is worth it,” but decided it was not the right time to be self-deprecating. 

“But I like it here,” you mused. “More than I ever thought I would.”

“We’ll always be here, trust me,” he was trying to remain cool, but his exterior was cracking.  “So, this John guy has been stalking you or something? Getting you to do this painting for him was one thing, but now he’s waiting for you at your job to get you to what? ----Move to Chicago to be closer to him?”.

The smoke came out his nose that time and the muscles in his throat tensed.  He had a bad feeling about that guy before, but he wanted to respect your business ventures and give you space.

The change in Eddie’s demeanor made you wonder if that was the time for full transparency.  In the end, you’d made a promise not to have any secrets from each other and you wanted to keep your word.

“There was mention of that, yes,” you said cautiously, nibbling at your lip.  

“Mention of what, exactly?” Eddie scowled, cocking his head to the side.

“He said there were lots of places he wanted to take me to in the city,” you recited the words cautiously.

Eddie laughed and threw his head back; it was much more of a crazy, maniacal cackle.  “Oh shit, maybe I should pay him a little visit?  See if pretty boy wants to show me the city too.”

“Eddie.”

“What did you tell him?” He was fuming now, grinding his jaw as he stabbed the half-smoked cig into the ashtray.  

“I didn’t tell him anything,” you repeated, but in a much louder voice.  “I said I needed to talk to you, my boyfriend.”

“He knows you have a boyfriend, and he still pulled that shit?”  Eddie bit the tip of his tongue between his teeth with a grimace.  “That fucker needs to get rolled.”

“Eddie!” 

“No, I’m serious,” he was yelling now, but more about the situation than at you.  “I gave him a chance to be cool, to be a gentleman, and he fucked it up. I told you babe, dudes like that, with money, think they can take whatever they want.  Well, he can’t have you, unless it’s over my dead fucking body.”

“Well, it’s my fucking choice, and I don’t want to be with him, I want to be with you, asshole,” You shot to your feet.  

You’d realized something on your way over to his place and it was that you really did not want to leave Hawkins.  

Every rational bone in your body told you to take the offer and run, but the other bones in your body, the not so rational ones, told you that you’d finally found your family and a place you belonged.  

“Listen to me,” you grabbed him by the arm and made him turn, his hair flying over his shoulder.  “I don’t want to take the job, okay? I want to stay here.  With you.”

Eddie nostrils flared.  It was taking all of his strength not to go out looking for that pencil pushing dweeb Gregson.  But if he actually got his hands on him in the heat of the moment, he was afraid of what he would do.  

“I’ll move with you,” Eddie wet his lips, a new idea flashing behind his eyes.

“With me? To Chicago?”

“Yeah, no, I could make it work. Hire another manager here, another tow truck driver. Come back and check in a couple times a month,” he walked by you as he talked, plucking at his lower lip with thumb and forefinger. “I could get a job at a garage in Chicago, easy. There’s even a King’s chapter there. I could get Bones to patch me in.”

“What about Wayne? And Oliver?” 

“We’ll come back to visit,” Eddie nodded at the plan that was forming in his head.  “Steve and Robin and the kid love Chicago.  Maybe we can get a place with a spare bedroom for when they come up.”

“But what about—”

“I know this means a lot to you, this opportunity,” he cut you off.  “I know I’m a dirty, biker asshole, but I’m not going to be the reason you give up on a dream.” He went over to the dresser drawers and pulled out a Pabst Blue Ribbon shirt to pull on over his head.  The armholes were cut wide, and the collar was frayed.  

“But what if I don’t want to live in Chicago?”

Eddie squinted like he hadn’t heard you correctly.  “What now?”

You bit the inside of your cheek in contemplation.  “I’ve been thinking that I don’t really care about that world anymore, the art world I mean.”

“You don’t want to paint anymore?” He appeared hurt by this notion.  

“No, I do, I will always paint,” you corrected with a wave of your hand.  “But the retail side of it, the snobby clientele, the stress, I’m not sure it makes me happy anymore.  Not sure if it ever did.”

It was Eddie who took a seat that time, perching on the back of the sofa. You could tell he was trying to understand, but the information was coming at him a bit too fast.

“I don’t want to work at the Hammer for the rest of my life, either, but it’s okay for now,” you were working through the revelations as you spoke them aloud.  “I have a friend who is starting her own greeting card company, and she wants me to do some artwork for her.  Little by little, I can make a living while still doing what I love.”

Eddie’s thoughts drifted back to the farmhouse, and how much he felt like it fit the both of you.  

“Are you telling me you chose Hawkins? Really?”

You went over to situate your hips between his knees and brushed his bangs off his forehead.  “No, I’m saying I choose you, asshole,” a smile tugged the side of your mouth up.  “Hawkins is a bonus, yes, but I will always choose you.”

Foreheads met then, and Eddie forced out a long-held breath from between tight lips.  “I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize you made a mistake.”

“The only thing I regret is that I didn’t get to jump your bones in high school.”

He chuckled, repeating what he’d asked at the barbeque earlier.  “Well, what about now?”

In the back of his mind he was thinking, “that John Gregson is still a dead man,” but he kept it to himself.

—----

Steve flopped down next to Astrid on the fluffy, tan sofa so violently it was as if he’d been thrown there by a force of nature.  He scooted closer and pawed at her hand so that she would intertwine her fingers with his.  He was reminded of all of those times as a teenager when he would get hurt on purpose just so she would patch him up.  She was a couple years older and wanted nothing to do with him back then, but nevertheless he melted under the tender touch of her attention every time.  

“I’m all ears,” he prodded eagerly when she did not speak right away.  

Keeping Steve’s hand with hers, Astrid turned to face him and tucked her bare feet underneath her, adjusting the stretch length of her dress.  

Steve watched the way her long hair fell across her neck and ample cleavage. 

“Okay,” she cleared her throat. “What I need to tell you is—”

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, perpetually distracted.

“Steve?”

“Sorry, go ahead.”

Another big inhale and then: “These past few weeks, I could tell something was…off.  I thought it was early menopause because I missed my period.”

Steve stared blankly, trying not to get turned on watching her lips move.  

She let her gaze fall to their hands clasped on Steve’s knee, wondering if any of it was real, or if she was still dreaming. 

“Is it cancer?”  He dared to ask, squeezing her hand.  “Because I’m not going to let anything happen to you.  I’ll find the best doctor at gunpoint if I have to.”   

“Steve!” 

“What? You’re making me crazy! Tell me everything's okay?”

“I’m not dying, Steve.”

“Well then what is it? I’ve been going out of my mind and here you are—”

“I’m pregnant.”

His body had been moving, vibrating even, but it all came to a complete halt at that.  

As if he’d been flash-frozen on the spot.

A mannequin of himself; mouth open, one eyebrow up. 

He shook his head, confused.  “Hold on, what? But I thought you said that you—”

She played with the hem of her shawl.  “I was told it was impossible.  I was told it would take a miracle.”

“Wait a minute, so—” he gulped and then leaned forward to search her face, one arm scooping behind her.  Her eyes were glossy again, on the verge of another wellspring.  

“Is it m-my…is it my baby?” He stammered.

She could only nod, chin quivering as more tears gathered at her lash line only to race down her cheeks once she blinked.  

Steve lost it then too, sucking in air before he choked on his own emotions.  He brought her hand to his chest and held it there.  “My baby,” he gasped, eyes flooding.  “You’re having my baby.  We’re having a baby.”

“Yeah,” she hiccuped and sniffed. “You’re not upset?”

“Upset? Why would I be upset? How could you even think that?” He was deeply offended that she would question his reaction to something he’d wanted his whole life with her, specifically.

He was wiping her tears away with his thumbs as she spoke.  “This is far from convenient, Steve. The way we both live our lives, we never planned for this. We barely have two pennies to rub together between us and—”

“Shhhh,” he kissed her nose and her eyelids and her mouth. “Money comes and goes, sweetheart.  It doesn’t matter, nothing matters, but you and this baby.  Our baby.”

Our baby.  He couldn’t stop saying it.  

He hadn’t known about Oliver until a few days before he was born, and he always felt robbed of all that time in the womb when he could’ve bonded with his son.  Tina had been a three-day fling at a music festival, and he never had any intention of seeing her again.  He’d been prepared to do the right thing though, to be a family even if it killed him, but then Tina just handed him a baby boy a week old and drove away, as if he knew what the fuck he was doing.  

Robin had been in the car waiting for him when it happened.  She saw him standing there in the street holding that screaming baby in a blanket and right then and there, a mother was born.  

He put his hand on Astrid’s stomach, gently.  “Can I feel it move yet? The baby?”

She laughed into her hand as she wiped her nose.  “I’m barely seven weeks along, silly.” 

He curled down like he always did when he put his head in her lap, but instead he placed his ear on her stomach, massaging her thigh with his hand. “I don’t think you can hear me, little one, but daddy has loved your mother his whole life and I love you very much.”

His next words were to Astrid; a murmur into the meat of her. “Will you let me love you now? The way I’ve always wanted to? Will you stay with me?”

She scratched her fingers through his hair, and then held his head there when his arms went around her waist. They stayed like that for a long while.

A bit later, in bed with her head on his chest, he was half asleep when she whispered: “You know that twins run in my family, right?”

—------

“A geriatric pregnancy,” Steve told you from across the bar when you were both back at work the next evening to the tune of Connection by Elastica. 

You made a face while you put some limes and shots of tequila on your tray.  

“That’s what they call it, I guess, when a woman is over 35,” he shrugged.  “A geriatric pregnancy.  So, I’m forcing her to take it easy.”

He was letting you and Shana in on the good news, and he’d been grinning from ear to ear for so long, his cheeks hurt.  His gold incisor caught the red lights like it had a ruby in it.  He’d even been smiling in his sleep, somehow, as Astrid noticed when she got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. 

“I’m so happy for you,” you mirrored his enthusiasm.  “Does Eddie know? Wayne?”

“Not yet,” he made a loose fist and cracked his knuckles. “We wanted to tell Uncle together.  I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but I couldn’t wait,” he added sheepishly. “She knows I can’t keep a secret like that.”

“I’ll wait and let you give Eddie the news,” you told him.  “I think he’d rather hear it from you.”

“Where is that War Machine?” Steve looked around, adjusting his sunglasses on his head.  “I owe him a drink.”

“That’s a good question,” you glanced at the clock that was up by the wall-mounted tv.  “He said he was going to stop by, but that was almost two hours ago.”  It didn’t concern you too much because your boyfriend was a busy guy, and last-minute things were always popping up at the shop.  

It was on your to-do list to call John on your break and let him know you were turning down his offer.  The more you thought about it, the more you wondered if he’d planned to hire you on merit, or if he just wanted to get into your pants.  When you thought about the possibility of the latter, it made your blood pressure spike.  

You delivered a round of drinks to a table, and on your way back to the bar, there was a man in a suit coming through the door, holding a briefcase.  

Steve gave him a nod when they made eye contact, but he didn’t ask to check his ID because the man had a graying hairline and was possibly mid-fifties at the least.  He was fit though, and had a very confident demeanor about him.  He looked like he was there to do business.  

“My name is Saul,” he introduced himself to Steve with a handshake and Steve stood up from his stool to be eye level with him.  “I’m looking for Steve Harrington.”

“You found him,” Steve rolled his neck, wondering what he could possibly want from him.  

Saul gave a stiff smile that did not reach his eyes. 

By then you were at the bar, acting like you were busy so that you could eavesdrop.

“What’s this about?” Steve pushed the sleeves of his flannel up to his elbows, exposing his tattoos.  

“Well, it would behoove you to give me a moment of your time,” he moved one side of his suit jacket back to shove his hand in his pocket, rocking back on his heels.  

“I have some business to discuss with you on behalf of Charlene Gregson.”

—------

John Gregson had no idea he was being followed.

He vaguely registered the sound of the loud pipes from the motorcycles rolling up to Margie’s diner, but he was having a late lunch with a business associate and didn’t pay much attention to it.  He preferred white tablecloth lunch meetings, but in Hawkins there weren’t many choices.  Their BLT was unbeatable though, as was the chocolate cream pie.  He’d have to calculate them both into his low-carb diet and spend extra time at the gym in the morning.  

He had his back to the door, making notes in his date book as the man across from him spoke over the sound of clattering dishes and silverware.  

He felt the shadows pass over the table, but he figured it was a group on the way to sit at a booth further down.  

But they came to a halt and loomed there, smelling of leather and tobacco.

John glanced over the top of his reading glasses at his companion first and saw that the color had drained from his face.  

There were four members of the Coffin Kings glaring down at them.  

Eddie frowned at the man with John and jerked his thumb to the side.  “Get up,” he said.  “Find somewhere else to be, I need to talk to your friend here.”

Devlin sank into the booth behind John while Van stood across the aisle flipping his butterfly knife, and Lucas stayed next to Eddie.

“Now, hold on just a—” John began to protest, about to get to his feet, but Lucas clapped a hand onto his shoulder and pushed him back down with calm, steady force.

His companion’s eyes darted from Eddie to John a few times before he gathered his things in a rush, tucking all of his papers under his arm, and shimmied past Van while holding his breath.  It was clear he had no intention of going to wait at another table, he was down the row of booths and out the front door in a flash.

With a heavy sigh, Eddie sank into the seat across from John, wallet chain dragging on the vinyl as he settled in, stretching his arms wide along the back of the bench.  

Lucas turned his back on the two but stood in the same spot, feet planted wide, hands in his pockets, blocking John from leaving.

With a resolute nod, John put his pen down.  “Have we met? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure—”

“Cut the crap, man,” Eddie huffed with a lazy grin and hooded eyes.  “You know exactly who I am.”

John took his glasses off and tucked them inside his jacket pocket.  “Fair enough. How can I help you?”

Eddie plucked a pack of smokes out of the front pocket of his cut and motioned for Devlin to toss him a lighter.

“This is a no smoking section,” John reminded him, pointing to the sign on the wall with a red line through a cigarette.

Eddie stared at him as he lit the end and sucked in his cheeks until the cherry glowed orange. 

He waited until after a generous exhale to speak, directing the smoke into John’s leftover pie.  

“You see, John—can I call you John? I’ve been really…patient when it comes to this infatuation you have with my girl.  More patient than you deserve, I think.”

John clicked his tongue.  “Now, you misunderstand me, I—”

“I haven’t misunderstood shit,” Eddie scoffed a laugh. 

The waitress came over, and John was sure she was going to tell him to put his cigarette out, but instead she just gave him the most flirtatious smile.  “You want some coffee, hun? You hungry?”

Eddie finished taking another drag and winked at her.  “Just coffee for me, darlin’,” and then he gestured to the other Coffin Kings. “Get these boys whatever they want and wrap it up to go.  It’s on John’s tab.”

Once she was gone, Eddie continued.  “Here’s what’s gonna happen, slick,” he reached over to tap the ash out on John’s plate.  “Once she finishes this painting, you’re gonna to pay her more than what you initially offered, and then you’re never going to see her or talk to her ever again.  Comprendo?”

John used the back of his fingers to push the plate a few inches away, dabbing the sides of his mouth with his napkin.  “My offer for her to run my gallery in Chicago had no devious intentions, I assure you.  I genuinely believe she is that talented.”

Eddie ground his teeth, jaw muscles bulging.  “She’s beyond talented, you got that right, but she doesn’t want to work for you.  You’re a creep.  Throwing money and big promises around to get what you want.  I know your type.”

“My type?” 

“Has your wife ever mentioned me?” Eddie inquired, exhaling into John’s face.

He watched John visibly go rigid.  

Rhonda set Eddie’s coffee cup on a saucer down in front of him with extra creamer and poured him a steaming cup.

John cleared his throat.  “I think it would be in her best interest—”

“You don’t know what’s best for her,” Eddie bit.  “Who are you, her fucking dad?”

He’d said it a bit too loud and a few people from other tables craned their necks to follow the sound.  

Eddie leaned forward, whispering tensely.  “I don’t think I have to tell you that I have friends in low places. People who will do what I say at the drop of a hat.  You think you can hide behind your money?  You’re wrong.  The people who pump your gas and make your food and clean your bathroom?  They’re all with me. You’ll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life.  If you fuck with me on this, if you seek my girl out after I’ve told you not to?  Well, then, I hope you like dentures sweetheart because I’m gonna pull your perfect, pearly teeth out one by one.”

By the time he was done, his hand had curled into a fist on the table.  He spread the ringed fingers out wide and then made the fist again, making John look at it.

Eddie snubbed out his smoke in John’s pie with a sizzle and then settled back in his seat, relaxing his shoulders.  He cocked an eyebrow up.  “Are we good?”

John sat back as well.  “We’re good,” he acknowledged stiffly, adjusting his suit jacket.

Eddie slapped the table and gave John a wink.  “Well, this was fun,” he chuckled.  “We should catch up more often.”

He took a quick gulp of his coffee and slid out of the booth.  

He stopped to bend over and whisper, “don’t forget to tip well, slick,” in John’s ear on his way out.  

—-------

By the time Eddie showed up at the Velvet Hammer, swatting away plumes of second-hand smoke as he went, everyone knew that Steve was going to be a dad again.  Even the new customers who’d barely just walked in the door that evening.  

Astrid had prepared for this.

One of the many complicated reasons she’d waited more than a week to tell him was because she’d known that, if he knew, he’d be announcing it to everyone he passed by on the street.

Steve jumped from his stool and hugged Eddie.  “I’ve got great news, man,” he clapped Eddie a few times on the arm, over the thick leather jacket he had on.  

Eddie had been on his way across the room to you when his friend stopped him, so the sudden affection took him off guard.  “I like good news,” he caught your eye over Steve’s shoulder and smirked.  

Steve let him know that he was going to be a dad again, which Eddie assumed would happen sooner than later, but he was surprised and delighted to know that Astrid was the mom.  They both knew that she’d been told it would be nearly impossible for her to conceive.  

Steve leaned in.  “This proves it, man, I have a magic dick.”

“Sure you do,” Eddie scoffed, patting Steve on the cheek a few times.  “Only took you 15 years.”

Before you could greet him, Eddie was already in front of you, pulling you flush to his body.  He started to walk and you took backwards steps to stay with him.  “Can you take your break right now?”

“I wasn’t going to for another hour but—”

“I need to talk to you,” he hushed.  

“Um, okay, well,” you glanced over at Shana and she waved you off.  

His mouth found yours the second you were obscured in the dark hallway.  You figured he’d be escorting you out to the alley where you usually took your breaks with him so he could smoke, but this time, he pulled you into one of the two unisex bathrooms and locked it behind him. The bulbs inside were red, and it set an eerie, bloodwashed glow.

“This place sees a lot of action,” you mumbled into his kiss as he worked your skirt up so that he could take a handful of the meat of your ass.  “I like to call it Steve’s Office.”

Before you knew what was happening, he was hoisting you up onto the sink counter with a grunt.  Your thighs and bum were fully exposed now, covered in fishnet stockings, and one of his hands held your face while the other rubbed a knuckle over the heat between your legs.  Your panties and stockings were preventing him from going further, but not for long.  

You were about to protest, to say you had to get back to work, or to remind him how many women Steve had probably railed in that very spot, but

Fuck

And just when you softened with a shaky moan, he kissed a trail down your jaw and throat, with a few nibbles in between.

You whimpered, spreading your legs further apart, Doc Marten booted feet locking onto his thighs to keep him close.

“I have something..” smooch “...that I need…” smooch “...to ask you…” smooch

“Right now?” You palmed his hard length over his denim and then went to work at undoing his belt buckle. “We only have 10 minutes.”

He leaned back, letting his cherry bitten lips hover there at eye level.  His bangs were getting too long, he needed a trim, and you brushed them to the side, off of his eyebrows. 

“Do you want to move in with me?”

You blinked a few times. “Into your apartment?”

“No, no,” eager lips found your mouth again and his thumb rubbed circles over the taut nub of your nipple through your shirt.  “The big farmhouse down on Marigold Road.  I pointed it out once when we drove by.”

You stopped.  “The old Ferguson place? Aren’t there people already living there?”

“Not anymore,” he could feel your arousal soaking through your underwear and he hissed, grinding his erection against your thigh. “I want to buy it. For us.”

In your desperation, you reached down and clawed at the section of black fishnet that was keeping him from you, ripping a little further down your thigh than you’d intended to.

Eddie kissed down the front of you on the way to his knees, and then your underwear was pulled to one side and his tongue was on your swollen clit, rolling in circles there.  

You dug your fingers into his hair with one hand and supported yourself on the ledge with the other.  He sucked a few times, and then his tongue went inside of you, and you bit your lip, squirming to try and repress a scream.  

“That is a big step,” you gasped. “Moving in together.”

For the longest time, you couldn’t see yourself living with anyone other than a roommate ever again.

He hummed on your now soaked cunt and then kitten licked it a few times.  “I’m ready. Are you?”

You didn’t respond at first because your eyes were rolling back in your head, so he popped off to get to his feet, his chin glistening.  He spread your thighs further apart to make room for his hips and undid his zipper.

His pupils bloomed wide as he searched your lustful eyes, insecurities making his heart rate quicken.  “Are you not ready? I mean, do you not want that? Is it too soo—”

But then you silenced him with your mouth, lapping up your juices from his chin, moving away a strand of his hair that had stuck there. “I want to see the inside. Could we go look at it together?”

“Yeah we can,” he pushed his boxers down and rubbed the tip of his leaking cock along your slit. “I’ll call the real estate dude in the morning.”

You clung to his neck, jaw going slack as he sank in. “I’ll have to check with Charlie.”

He chucked into the kiss at you mentioning your cat, and then he was stretching you out, easing his way in, aching to be one with you.

“Deeper…more,” you whimpered, and then you each let out a muffled cry when he filled you to the hilt, flush inside of your pulsing heat.

He rested his forehead on yours and began to work his hips, thrusting deep and retreating with a curl of his hips so that you could feel every vein, every ridge, but then you were clenching around him, and he sped up with a curse, a thumb working at your clit.

“This…fuck, I’m going to cum so hard inside of you,” he admitted with a huff.  His belt buckle clinked against his zipper with every thrust.  “You want that? You want all of me?”

“Fuck, Eddie, yes,” You whined, clinging to him as stars exploded behind your eyes. 

His strong fingers dug into your flesh to hold your legs in place, and after a few more shaking pumps, he was spilling inside of you, each of you a moaning mess of “I love yous”, clawing at the other to be closer.  

Someone banged on the door just as the two of you were catching your breath and Eddie was still inside of you.

“Get lost!” Eddie yelled, not caring if it was a customer.

“Are you two having a tea party in there? Cabbage Patch meeting perhaps?” 

It was Steve, and then you could hear his ruckus laughter as he banged another few times just to be cheeky.

You adjusted your underwear back into place, and Eddie fastened his jeans before he helped you down off the counter.  You pulled your skirt down and checked yourself in the mirror.

Yikes.

The rip down your inner thigh was painfully obvious.  You wondered if shredding them in a few more places would make it more of “a look”, but then realized that the lighting in the Hammer was not great, and it wasn’t unheard of for someone to accidentally rip their stockings at work.  

But what about when Eddie’s seed started to drip down your leg?

“You go,” you shooed him away as he stood there adjusting the collar of his jacket, waiting for you. “I need to pee.”

He was looking at himself in the mirror, rubbing lipstick off his cheek, but then he turned just before grabbing for the door.  “If you don’t want to, you know, live together right away, I get it.  But with Katie moving in with Robin and all, I figured—”

“You figured we could be roommates?” 

He smirked, giving a bashful shrug.  “A little more than that, maybe.  Roommates with benefits.”

“Yeah?” You sank against his chest, forever helpless to his gravitational pull.  “What kind of benefits?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he rubbed the sides of your arms with his calloused hands. “I’ll make you pancakes.”

“You think you can make pancakes?” 

“Baby, I've told you before, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

—-------

“WAYNE!”

Uncle entered the Hammer and everyone screamed his name like he was Norm in an episode of Cheers.

It had been a while since he dropped by unannounced, and he looked better than ever.

Still much thinner than he had been the year before, and it was hard for him to catch his breath sometimes, but his eyes were bright, and he wore a soft smile more often than not.  

Maybe the chemo was working? Maybe there was hope?

Devlin had been sitting on the stool at the bar next to Eddie, but Eddie was quick to tell him to take a hike when Wayne showed up.

“What did the doctor say?” He asked as his uncle straddled the stool and got comfortable.  He was in a green and white plaid work shirt and had decided to leave his Coffin Kings leather at home.  

Wayne gave a single nod and patted around for his smokes out of habit, even though he’d given it up when he started treatment.  “Just heard Steve's gonna be a dad again. He better treat her right, that's all I can say." It was obvious he was damn near giddy at the thought, Eddie could see it in the way a smile kept tugging at the sides of his mouth. "I’m sick of talking about doctors and my goddamn condition. Want to forget about it for a night.”

Eddie respected that, and tapped the bar to order him one of those non-alcoholic beers that they kept cold specifically for Wayne and one other regular patron.  

You barely had a chance to give Wayne a shoulder squeeze when Robin burst in through the door, frantically scanning the crowd.  There was a dancer on the backstage, working her way down the poll, and Steve had gone over to remind a few rowdy customers to behave themselves.  Robin rushed over and met him halfway, in front of the glowing jukebox.

He found no comfort in the way she looked like she’d been crying.

“What’s going on?” Felt like his heart literally stopped beating in his chest. “Are you okay?”

“The spare key,” she held her palm out.  “You used it last time and now I’m locked out of the house.”

He felt around in his back pocket.  “Where are your regular keys?”

She rolled her eyes, bouncing in frustration. “I lost them somewhere, okay? At work maybe, I’m not sure, but Oliver just threw a fit, I’m on my period, and we’re all just in a really bad mood and want to go home.”

“Alright, alright, here take my key,” he wrestled it off the metal ring to hand it to her.  “Just remember to leave the back door unlocked for me.  Is Oliver in the car?”

“No, he’s at Katie’s place with her, I needed to take a drive alone so that I could scream,” she snatched the key from him.

“Shit, you had me worried for a second.”

“Sorry,” admittedly, she felt like she was overreacting to something so small and fixable, but more likely her tears were from an accumulation of things.  Once the panic spike subsided, her eyes landed on half of a white envelope peeking out of the pocket of his Coffin Kings leather, right above his TAZ insignia.  She always teased him and said his official nickname should’ve been Dingus.

“What’s this?” It looked like it had some official lettering in the corner, and she plucked it out to look closer.

They made their way back to the front so he could keep an eye on the door, and she frowned at the name of a law office in the corner. 

“I don’t know, I haven’t opened it yet,” he shrugged.  “Some douchey lawyer brought it by, said it was from Charlene.  It was busy when he came in, so he gave me that to read and told me to call him in the morning.”

“Fucking Charlene?” She balked.  “What, is she suing you for not wanting to be her boyfriend?”  

“I haven’t had time to open in, but it wouldn’t surprise me.”

A group of people came in, and two looked like they were 16, so Steve carded them.  

Robin ripped the top of the envelope open. You stepped in front of her on your way to a table, and the two of you collided.

You said a quick apology and were about to ask if she wanted a drink, when Shana shouted across the bar to tell Robin the phone was for her.

“It’s your boss from the motel,” Shana continued, holding her hand over the bottom half of the receiver.

Robin gave a heavy, exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.  “She’s going to ask me to work a double shift tomorrow, I just know it.”

She shoved the paperwork at you that she’d just unfolded, but not yet read.  “Hold this for me? Be right back.”

“Oh—okay,” you had the paperwork pressed flat to your chest as you made your way over to stand at Eddie’s shoulder.  He was talking to Wayne, but he reached back and squeezed your thigh in greeting.  

You hadn’t meant to look, to eavesdrop on their private business.

But once glance was all it took

For you to be fully invested

Charlene’s name was the first thing to catch your eye

And then, The Velvet Hammer

You took a few long blinks, unsure if what you were looking at was real.

You mouthed a few of the words quietly just to make sure you were reading them correctly.

The way you froze made Eddie curious, and he turned his head to see what you were doing.

“What’s up babe? What is that?”

“It’s, uh—” you stammered.  “It’s Steve’s.  You’re never going to believe this, but um—”

“Can I see it?” 

He tried to meet your eyes as he took it from you, but you couldn’t seem to look away from the words on the paper.  Your mind was reeling.

Robin returned just as Eddie held the papers out in front of him, and she steadied herself with a hand on his back to read over his shoulder.

Steve meandered over; his curiosity officially piqued at what you were all huddled together about.  

“What’s it say?”  He had a smoke bobbing between his lips and his hands in his pockets.  “Did I win the lottery or somethin’?”

He chuckled, but then you all turned to him in unison, unblinking, mouths agape.

“Yeah man,” a smile curled on Eddie’s lips.  “Actually, you kinda did.”

—------

Charlene was on the plane to Hawaii when she read the newspaper article.

A glass of first-class champagne and a window to her right, an empty aisle seat to her left.  

There he was, right on the front page of The Hawkins Post: 

Steve.

In a bigger city, a business changing hands could fly under the radar, but in a small town, it was newsworthy when a local biker and bouncer becomes a business owner overnight.

A Cinderella story, the reporter called it.

The cover photo was of him out on the sidewalk, standing next to the red door entrance to the Velvet Hammer.  Shana was in the photo with him, as were Robin, Jackie, Erika, and you.  

Not pictured was Eddie Munson, whom the article mentioned Steve had chosen to take on as a partner.

The article talked about their plans for the Hammer, including bringing in a tattoo studio to the vacant storage space next door.  

She ran her finger over his face on the newsprint.

It wasn’t until the end of the article that she got the wind knocked out of her:

“Steve and his longtime partner, Astrid Bautista, are expecting their first child together in the spring.”

She hadn’t expected that.

She had to look away and take a generous gulp of champagne.  

Her eyes got a little wet and her vision blurred, but she read it again.

“Did you miss me?” Billy sank into the seat next to her with his sunglasses on and a white shirt unbuttoned almost to the waist of his jeans. He smiled around the pink gum he was chewing and craned his neck to see what she was reading, but she folded the paper hastily and turned it over.

She didn’t answer him, she just stared out the window over the clouds and tried to forget she ever felt a thing.  

------

authors note: wow, we did it. This is my first fic series to finish ever 😭 If you've made it this far, you know how much this story and the characters have evolved since those first couple chapters. If this were an actual novel, I'd go back and make it all sync up, give it more continuity, and reveal nicknames like War Machine and Taz earlier in the game. But the cool thing about posting this way for a fandom is that you, the reader, are able to see in real time how the characters develop a mind of their own and take over the story in a way not even the writer can predict. In this case specifically, you can also see how I went from having no idea how to write a reader insert fic to becoming more and more comfortable with it.

I never had any intention of making Charlene a villain. She was literally based off of the wealthy woman in the Bruce Springsteen video for his song I'm on Fire. Just a gal who had a crush on her mechanic. Some of you voiced that you wished Charlene could get killed, or hurt somehow, and for those of you, you can trust that she is hurting. Knowing that Steve will be having a family with someone else is a deep wound.

I've had several requests for a separate biker Steve story with a new reader, and until two chapters ago, I fully intended to follow through on that. But the more I wrote him with Astrid, the more I felt it was wrong to keep them apart. If you are a fan of their love story, I highly recommend visiting THIS masterlist from @texasblues who created Astrid's character. But I do plan to bring a slightly different biker Steve back in a new au, stay tuned 🥰

This of course, is not the end. I plan to drop an epilogue on you all when you least expect it, and it will take place a year or two after the events here. If you are a friend of mine, you will laugh at this because whenever I say I'm going to write an epilogue, I never do. But this time I mean it.

I can't express in words how much your comments, asks, and messages about this story have meant, and will always mean to me. I was living through one of the darkest years of my life when I joined tumblr back in April and started writing this fic, and you all have held me together, whether you realize it or not. I love you and am deeply grateful for you all.

Taglist: @notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system@secretdryrose

@whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @kurdtbean@dandelionnfluff @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc @angietherose @sllooney @writinginthetwilight @moonbeamsandmayhem @brianamunson92 @joannamuns9n @bellalillyrose @alba8688 @chevelle724

[nucleo-bang-tan]

Grayscale Pt.3 | JJK

Pairing/s: Jungkook X Reader, Cha Eunwoo X Reader

Rating/s: No detailed explicit content, but wouldn't recommend it for minors.

Genre: Cheating AU, highschool sweethearts, first love, Moving On AU

Word Count: 3.1 k

Warning/s: OC talks to Jungkook, a bit possessive Jungkook, healing, closure, PDA, adopting, pregnancy.

A/N: Not proofread!!! Please leave comments, I would love to hear from you guys. Critique my writing and tell me if I'm doing anything wrong, really appreciate it.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The act of letting someone sucks your life away. Seeing Jungkook again for the divorce was harder than you thought.

Even though he wanted to, he never begged you again to take him back. Both of you knew, clinging onto each other would cause more pain than healing.

"That's not how you play the game! You're cheating." You giggled.

Eunwoo could feel his heart flutter at you being happy, your eyes crinkling into crescents. This was the first time he saw you so cheerful after the incident. He couldn't help but wonder what made Jungkook hurt such a genuine and kind soul.

"I'm not gonna win against you if I don't cheat." He teased.

"So you admit it!" You hit his arm playfully.

"Hey now, violence is not the answer."

There was a moment of laughter followed by silence before you spoke up, "Call me sappy, but I'm going to miss you. Like a lot."

"1 month, huh? I think you can handle it." He said, brushing his hair back.

You couldn't help but well up at the thought of him leaving for that long, "You're supposed to say 'I'm gonna miss you too' dumbass."

He sighed, "Thank you..."

"I should do the thanking here." You chuckled, looking at him nervously.

"Thank you for not laughing at me being a loser at games..." He took your hand in his, "...thank you for being my friend."

His unfeigned tone made you cry out. He knew it was coming, he had to go on his business trip real soon. But he had a few months, which he decided to spend consoling you.

Like he did now, he wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry on his chest, tears staining his shirt.

Jungkook and Gaeul left you with serious trust issues. But Eunwoo never left any corners for you to not trust him. It was as if you trusted no one but him.

Your parents, as expected, had the phrase, 'i told you so' written on their faces. They were never happy with your relationship, always hoping you'd marry a guy of their choice. You wondered if that would have been better.

Jungkook's parents visited you a day before your legal seperation. His father went as far as to threaten you to not break off the marriage. It would damage his reputation as a CEO.

Eunwoo politely yet sternly told them to leave and held you as you cried for an hour after that.

Your nights were sleepless. You had been with Jungkook for so long, that you couldn't sleep without his presence. Eunwoo would sacrifice his sleep to sing and hum for you as you tried to sleep.

Most of his attempts would go to vain but he still kept humming for you.

"I-I don't want you to go."

"I have to, Y/n." He hugged you tighter.

Maybe this wasn't the right time to tell you what he thought about you. But this was the only time he had. You were left broken after what Jungkook did, and Eunwoo didn't want risk your comfort and trust in him.

But he had to tell you.

"Y/n... I-"

You pull back to look at him, eyes red with the tears shed, "Eunwoo?"

How he wished it was him instead of Jungkook. How he wished Jungkook would have never met you, then you'd find a real man (Eunwoo) to cherish you.

He remembered the first time he saw you in college, stumbling in late to a lecture because you were messing around with Jungkook. Your hair a bit unkempt but nothing too wild.

He remembered how you sat beside him and he couldn't help but ask you your name. The two of you immediately clicked.

He remembered how his stomach dropped when he heard you had a boyfriend. He was still extremely close to you, despite you already having Gaeul as your 'best friend.'

He remembered the night where he actually fell for you. The night where your friends left to explore a foreign city you visited. Gaeul and Jungkook took advantage of the situation and went missing as well. You and Eunwoo were left alone. Both of you sat in the pool of the hotel, looked at the stars and talked about everything. Until you fell asleep and Jungkook came to carry you back to your room.

He remembered how he felt light headed when Jungkook asked him to plan a proposal for you. But he still smiled and decided to help him. Atleast you were happy, he thought.

He took a deep breath, "I like you. Heck, I may even be in love with you. Please don't take this the wrong way but... I've had feelings for you ever since we first met. I'm not pressuring you or-"

You cut him off with a smile, "Eunwoo, it's okay. I know."

"I wish I could stop myself but- wait. You know?"

You nod, slightly laughing at his nervous state, "I know, Eunwoo. I've always known. But I need time to get over...you know."

"Yes...yes! I don't care if you don't feel the same way, I just had to let you know how I felt."

You wipe your cheeks with your sleeve, "I don't want you to wait for me, I don't know when I'll move on from him, or if I even will move on."

Eunwoo gently wiped away a lingering tear from your cheek, his touch soft and reassuring. "I'll wait for you, Y/n. No matter how long it takes. You deserve to heal at your own pace."

You gave him a small, grateful smile, "Thank you, Eunwoo. That means more to me than you'll ever know."

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Did you get everything?" You asked.

"Calm down, I'll be alright. But you're the one who needs to take care." He held your hand in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb to warm you up a bit.

It was already time for him to go. So, you along with a few of your friends were here on a chilly morning to bid him farewell.

After sharing a few hugs, he finally approached you for a hug, to which you responded by jumping onto him making him stumble back a bit.

You hugged him tightly, burying your face in his chest, taking in his scent. You laughed, "Who said I wasn't going to tease your loser ass?"

Eunwoo couldn't help but hug you tighter. He couldn't do it again for another month, he tried to memorize every soft detail of your embrace.

It didn't take long for your laughter to seize. A person caught your attention. He stood there with a long trench coat and every recognisable characteristics covered except his puffy eyes. The sight of him brought an unexpected surge of emotions. You hadn't anticipated seeing him here, especially not today.

Jungkook.

What was he doing at the airport?

"Y/n, you're crying. Are you okay?" Eunwoo asked being concerned. He followed your line of sight and realised who caught your attention.

You didn't even realise you were crying until Eunwoo pointed it out. Jungkook stood at a fair distance. You noticed he was alone.

The two of you just stared at each other, you didn't want to talk to him and he understood that.

You felt a warm hand on your cheek. Eunwoo turned your head to look at him.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay." The approaching panic attack you felt was suddenly subdued with his words.

He leaned in to kiss your tear-stained cheek. He looked straight in your eyes when he said, "I love you. Believe me on that, yeah?"

"P-Please be safe." You tried your best not to look at your ex-husband; you focused your eyes onto the man in front of you.

"I'll see you soon." He held you in his arms one last time, only to let go hesitantly. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jungkook looked at you and Eunwoo, he had no right to be angry, he had no right to want to kick Eunwoo in the balls. He chuckled bitterly at his own thoughts.

Jungkook didn't know why you were here, he didn't know how you noticed him in a crowded space. He swallowed thickly and maybe it was the fact that he just wanted to disappear from your sight, but he turned around and decided to quickly walk away with his luggage.

He initially walked briskly but he resorted to running a few seconds in. His empty stomach didn't take him very far though; he stumbled and fell onto his knees in a scarcely crowded area of the airport.

Seeing you happy brought all the memories flush back to him. Your touch, your voice, your smile, your eyes, you was all he could think of. He doubled over in pain, quietly sobbing into his palms, his luggage laying beside him. Crying had become a second nature by now.

It clawed him from inside, you were his and only his but he knew he could no longer have you. He wanted to bawl out loud, beg you to start everything over again, but he had promised himself to stay away from you.

Fate had other plans though, he was returning to Seoul from his hometown when he saw you with Eunwoo and a bunch of close friends. The ones who used to his friends as well.

Jungkook looked at his shaky palms which were wet from his tears. He had good friends, a good work-life balance, and the best of all, he had you. But now his colleagues and employees were doubting his abilities due to his bad performance at work.

He'd never be present at his office after the divorce. One would always find him at his house or at the gym, jabbing the life out of the punching bag till he fainted.

It took him 15 minutes to realise it was extremely chilly at the airport, he decided to gather himself and sit in the car. Sure, he couldn't stop crying, but atleast he could smell the vanilla scented car freshner you had bought.

He leaned his head back, his nose taking in your favourite scent.

A knock on the window startled him. It was as if he was dreaming, and he probably was. Because it was you.

You opened the car door and got in the passenger's seat, "Glad to know you still kept the car freshner."

Now, Jungkook didn't have any issues with breathing, ever. But today, his lungs stopped working. It was you. You were in his car, but why?

"Y-Y/n..."

You looked like you had been crying as well but at the moment, you were neither sad nor happy, you just looked pissed.

You sighed, "Did you eat today?"

The question was so simple, so casual. But it hit something inside Jungkook's heart. He leaned down towards you, as if bowing to you and let his tears flow.

"I asked you something..." You said, trying to be cold. He looked you in the eyes and shook his head.

He didn't want to put you in a position where you had to take him back, but he still took your hands in his, "I was such-"

He was cut off by you repelling from his touch, "Please don't touch me, Jungkook. I'm not here to forgive you."

"O-oh, I'm so fucking sorry." He sniffed.

"You look awful."

"You look beautiful, as always." He said sincerely, making you blush a bit.

"I'm here because I care for you. Don't get the wrong idea but, I don't think I'll ever stop caring for you, Jungkook. Why aren't you looking after yourself?"

Jungkook was flustered by your suddeness. He had expected you to have moved on by now. But the fact that you were crying a while ago and you were here, in his car, said otherwise.

"It just isn't the same." He croaked out.

"Ofcourse it isn't, Jungkook. I wonder why."

"Y/n, I know you hate me, I know you don't want me anymore. But I don't want you to be kind to me." He closed his eyes, "Please curse at me, hit me, let it out. It's just me."

"It's not just you. I don't know you. You're a stranger to me." You said coldly.

Jungkook didn't answer, it was more like he couldn't answer. He looked down at his palm, which weren't shaky anymore. It was you who calmed him down.

You sigh, "I assume you have been talking to Gaeul?"

"I haven't, I don't even intend to."

"I called her a couple of months ago. She was livid at you. Said she'll slap you the next time she sees you." You chuckled, "She told me a lot about how you guys began and stuff. But it was the last time I'll ever talk to her."

He wiped his runny nose, "I guess you know about the time I threw her out of our house."

"Your... your house."

"Right, my house." He corrected himself.

After a moment of silence, Jungkook raised his head to look at you. He saw the love of his life looking outside the window. You looked as beautiful as the day he asked you out, if not more.

"Y/n, I-I love you."

You turned towards him to see a man who used to be the love of your life. He looked barely alive, barely living. Yet, somehow, his eyes were as pretty as always. But they didn't hold the universe you saw around a decade ago. They were just pretty eyes.

"You know there's a theory, if you stop loving someone, it means you never loved them in the first place. Love can never go away.

I probably won't ever stop loving you. But I don't want you, Jungkook. I've moved on."

"I-I know, I understand." Even though he knew, there was a huge part of him that wanted you to come back. That wanted you all to himself.

"Would you have kept the affair going if I never found out?" You asked.

"No, no! I wanted to stop, I promise. It started as a way for stress relief when you weren't available, but then..."

You scoff, "Then what, Jungkook? You loved to cheat on me, is it? You just loved to humiliate me? Makes sense."

Your tone didn't sound like yourself. You've never talked to Jungkook in this way, but then again, you couldn't keep it in anymore.

"Y/n, please, trust me. I've never wanted anyone but you. I've never loved her, I've never enjoyed the sex more. I just... don't know."

"You just loved the thrill of it all, didn't you. Cheating on your girlfriend, then on your fucking wife. How fucking far were you willing to go for sex?" A single tear rolled down your cheek.

Jungkook wished he could say otherwise. He wished he would've thought with his heart rather than his dick. All he could do was mutter sorry's.

"I forgive you, Jungkook." You said looking away.

His breath hitched as he heard the words come out of your mouth.

"I forgive you. The only thing you can do for me is take care of yourself and move on."

"I-I don't think I can." He sobbed, his stomach did flips that made him nauseous.

You finally touched him and intertwined your fingers with his, it was familiar but it didn't feel like home anymore.

"Cook for yourself, eat better, yeah?" You smiled.

"I can't do this without you, Y/n."

"You can, I know you can."

"I can't, I fucking can't. Please..."

You slowly let go of his hand as he kept saying 'no'.

"I'm sorry, baby." You whispered, "I have to leave."

You opened the car door and got out. Jungkook wished he could see you clearly, but his vision was blurred. You waved a final goodbye and gently closed the door.

As he saw you walk away, he noticed you took the car freshner with you, a subtle way to let him move on.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Eunwoo!" You rushed over to him and captured him in an embrace. He twirled you around as you both laughed.

His month long business trip had already ended and he had just returned to Seoul.

He let you down and spoke, "How have you-"

He was cut off by you pulling him extremely close to you face. Your noses were touching and lips only a few millimetres away.

Eunwoo's eyes widened. He was definitely dreaming. Or did the plane crash on his way back and he was in heaven?

"I've not done this before but..." You said softly, "Would you go out with me?"

"I think you know what I'll say to that." He closed the distance between your lips.

It was like the two of you were alone at the airport. The nasty glares from strangers didn't exist, nor did any other problem in the world.

Eunwoo would be happy even if the world ended this very moment. But then again, he wouldn't get to love you enough.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jungkook exhaled softly as he blinked his eyes, trying to wake up. He slowly pushed himself up and sat against the headboard.

He shivered, ofcourse. It was too cold without you. It had been 5 years already but no morning went without a thought of you.

As an unhealthy daily habit, he took his phone from the side table. Instinctively, his thumb went to Instagram to stalk you. His eyebrows furrowed realising you changed your profile picture.

This didn't seem right to him. Why was Eunwoo holding you like that? He decided to check your feed. Something wasn't right. There was a recent post from you.

A post announcing your pregnancy.

It took him a full minute to process what was happening. You were having a baby, with someone that wasn't him.

He blinked back his tears, reading the caption, 'You're gonna be the best father.' with a photo of Eunwoo holding your slightly large belly.

He reminded himself, there was more to live for. He should've moved on by now but he simply couldn't. His thoughts were so loud that he couldn't hear small footsteps. The person climbed onto the bed and peeked into his phone.

"Is that mommy?" He asked making Jungkook snap out of it.

"Ah, Jaehyun." He took the 7 year old in his arms.

"Isn't that mommy, daddy?" The child persisted.

"No, Jaehyun. She's just a woman I love."

"So, she's mommy?"

He sighed. How would he explain this to a 7 year old? Jungkook didn't want to bluntly tell him that he was adopted and didn't have a mother.

"Let's go for a walk with Bam. I'll tell you everything about the most beautiful woman I've ever met."

[dollfaceksj]

Does jk rly only want oc because she looks like Mia:(….

i know i said jk x reader would be endgame but honestly, i’m gonna leave it up to you guys.

ps: some ppl still seem to be confused abt some things so let me make it clear

taehyung DOES NOT have feelings for y/n. idk how much more clear i had to make that in the previous drabble but im saying it now

reader was NEVER pregnant. that’s why they’re called SCARES.

taste of a poison paradise | jjk (m) #34

masterlist

<- previous ; next ->

you raised your shaky fist and quickly knocked on his front door

you tried to keep your sobs contained but ultimately failed

your sleeves were full of tears and snot and you had no more space on them to clean yourself up

the door swung open and there he was, headphones on his head and controller in his hand with a complimentary annoyed pinch between his brows

he looked annoyed for a few seconds from being interrupted while playing but the moment he saw your state, instant concern seeped onto his expression and his stomach dropped

“what happened?” he asked immediately

you glanced inside of his apartment to make sure he was alone

“i’m sorry. i’m sorry. i don’t know what to do. i never meant for this to happen,” you rambled, choking on tears and sobs

he instantly took his headphones off and tossed them and his controller at his couch with no regard whether they landed safely or not before pulling you inside and closing the door behind you. “hey, hey. breathe. tell me what happened.”

“i swear i didn’t mean for this to happen, taehyung. i’m so sorry. i don’t know what to do. i’m panicking, please, don’t be mad at me. please, don’t be mad.” you stumbled over every word, barely being understandable with how hard you were sobbing

“hey,” he whispered as he gently shook you by your shoulders to get you to your senses. “i told you to breathe. tell me what happened.”

you had never just shown up this upset and it made his heart beat faster with panic but he had to stay calm for you

you took a few breaths to calm yourself down before opening your mouth to say, “i’m late. my period is late. it should’ve come through 4 days ago but it still hasn’t. please, please, don’t be mad at me.”

he blinked at you in confusion for a few seconds before the realization ultimately set on his face

this was the first time something like this had happened

you’d never had any problems or worries for the almost 3 years you and taehyung had been there

but you two were just halfway through your junior year and you had one more year to go

you dreamed of being seniors with taehyung

and this was going to ruin it

taehyung instantly pulled you into a hug to comfort you and stroked your head to calm you down. “don’t worry, i’m not mad. things like this happen. whatever happens, i’m here. i mean, that’s why i’m here right? i’m here to help. i’ll always be by your side.”

you sobbed into his chest, messing up his shirt but he paid no mind to it and continued to comfort you

“please, please don’t tell my parents, tae. they will kill me.”

“of course i won’t. if they killed you, how would i annoy you?” he attempted to make you smile and it worked, even though he couldn’t see your face. “besides, they’d kill me too.”

you sniffled a couple of times before pulling your face back to look at him. “what do you mean? it’s my fault.”

he shook his head and gently wiped your tears with his thumbs. “you’re my responsibility. i won’t let you take all the blame.”

you tried so hard not to bawl all over again. you never did anything to deserve someone like tae

you didn’t want to put all that responsibility on him but in that moment you didn’t know what else to do

“hyunjin’s?” he quietly asked as he rubbed the pad of his thumb in between your brows to smooth out the pinch between your brows

hyunjin was your boyfriend at the time

he didn’t want to offend you and imply you’d been cheating or anything like that, but it was clear he wanted to be sure about everything

you slowly nodded your head, sniffing quietly

“does he know?”

you shook your head in response

taehyung was the first to know

taehyung was the first to know everything

always

he exhaled deeply. “okay. whatever happens, it’s okay. if you’re pregnant, whatever you want to do, we’ll do it.”

“i’m still in school, i can’t have a baby right now.” you had finally started calming down a bit and it was all thanks to taehyung

he nodded quickly and said, “okay. we’ll book an appointment at the clinic then.”

you sniffed softly. “but abortions are so expensive.”

he frowned and shook his head. “don’t worry about the price, alright? i told you, you’re my responsibility. just rely on me, okay?”

you knew taehyung didn’t have that kind of money

you never wanted to put that amount of responsibility on taehyung, never

but in that moment you were so scared

so damn scared

that you just nodded your head and continued to hug him

he led you to his bed and cuddled you for the rest of the night, talking about your favorite topics and even leaving to go to the nightshop at one point to go get your favorite tub of ben & jerry’s ice cream

“aren’t you gonna get banned from the game for leaving during an online match?” you asked, sounding muffled from being buried in his chest

you knew taehyung absolutely loved gaming, everyone knew that

he was always gaming

so him having to ditch made you feel guilty

but he simply hummed in response.

and you tried so hard not to start crying again because you genuinely don’t deserve him

thankfully, it turned out to be just a scare and no extra steps had to be taken

either way, taehyung never viewed you any different and he dropped everything to help you

he’d do it again in a heartbeat

which he did when your second scare happened a year later and it went exactly like this one

[present]

staring at all of it scattered on your floor

the image of taehyung running through the rain to get you this stuff

to then walk in on what he walked in on

you can’t take it

and that’s when you drop to the floor

your hands reaching for the korean fried chicken scattered across your floor

and it’s seriously burning the skin on your fingers

you hiss, the smoke coming off the chicken and your skin is a clear indicator that the food is piping hot

you can’t believe it

not taehyung

you can’t lose taehyung

:(

“stop that!”

jungkook’s voice rings in your ears as he smacks the chicken out of your hands and reaches for paper towels to clean the hot sticky remnants of your fingers

all the emotions you kept hidden in front of taehyung are just pouring out of you

you don’t even care about the mia thing

you don’t even care about your business being aired

all you care about right now is taehyung

“he hates m– don’t touch me,” you shriek, trying to fight against jungkook, hitting, punching, pushing against his chest in an attempt to get him off

the only person you need to tell you everything’s gonna be okay is taehyung

you need taehyung

jungkook lets you get some of your emotions out but when you continue to hit him, he grabs your wrists to stop you

you keep staring at the spilled food

your throat burning

eyes stinging

nose running

“calm down,” is all jungkook says when you continue to fight against him but he’s too strong for you. “he doesn’t hate you, he’s just upset.”

your arms slowly start giving up and your eyes travel up to meet his

and his eyes are just genuine

staring at you like there’s no doubt in his mind that taehyung still loves and cares for you

and that’s when the tears start uncontrollably pouring out of your eyes

you sob, head held down whilst jungkook still holds your wrists

you collapse forwards, straight into jungkook’s chest

sobbing and sobbing

the shirt he’s wearing is taehyung’s

it smells like your laundry detergent and faintly like taehyung

you grip the shirt, holding onto it like it’s a piece of taehyung

“i don’t want him to hate me. i swear i never meant to hurt him like that. he’s really hurt. what do i do? what if he never wants to see me again?”

no one will ever understand the bond you share with tae

he’s your best friend. your brother. your soulmate

he loves you like a parent

cares for you like a best friend

protects you like a brother

and annoys you like all 3 of those in one

you would’ve never been here without him

“he doesn’t hate you. he just exploded after all that. that doesn’t make it okay but it does make him human. hyung would run a million laps around the perimeter of the earth with bare feet until the skin of his feet fell off just to see you smile. you know that.”

jungkook continues to talk sense into you

even though he’s also shaken up from being threatened by tae and exposed like that

taehyung has never threatened him before

they’ve just had dumb arguments here and there but nothing like this

jungkook himself is trembling with the fear of taehyung hating him

because that could actually be the case

but he’s ignoring his own panic and emotions to talk you down because he knows taehyung could truly never hate you

after awhile of soothing back rubs and occasional shaky breaths

you pull out of jungkook’s embrace

you look up at him and wipe your nose

and you see his red nose and teary eyes too

you want to tell him to fuck off

that you never want to see him again

that you hate him

unfortunately you get slapped in the face with the reality of your feelings for him

cause you can’t help but want to hear him out

but

all you can bring yourself to say

is, “mia…?”

at this, jungkook sighs

you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your robe and get up from the floor, pushing him off

you walk up to the sink, washing off some of the remnants of the sauce on the chicken that the paper towels couldn’t get off

in your peripherals you see jungkook rising to his feet too, softly sniffing

you swallow in hopes to calm yourself down before turning to him. “are you still in love with her? is that why you want me? is that why you think you’re in love with me?”

he sighs deeply and rubs his eyes, wiping his tears with the paper towel

“no, y/n. you’ve got it all wrong.”

you cross your arms. “then speak or i swear, i’ll lose it.” your voice gets shaky towards the end and you’re getting emotional again

he finally looks at you. “i’m not in love with her because i fucking hate her, alright?”

…

where have you heard that one before?

“is that supposed to make me feel better? you said the exact same thing about me 2 months ago.”

he shakes his head again. “hyung doesn’t know the whole story and he just fucking messed everything up,” he grumbles whilst running his hand through his hair

“then tell me the story alread–!”

“she cheated, okay?” he slightly raises his voice but immediately repeats himself in a calmer tone. “she cheated.”

you stare at him with teary eyes, wanting him to keep going

he deeply sighs. “i’m not gonna go out like my mom.”

fuck

right

his mom was lying on a cold metal table in a morgue while his father was burying his junk in someone else’s trunk

you slightly scrunch your nose to try and stop yourself from getting emotional again

he continues, “yes. you look like her. i won’t deny that.” he stays where he is, just scanning you from a distance for your reactions.

“but you are absolutely nothing alike.”

you fight the urge to roll your eyes at this

“when i first met her in high school, she was all over me. i loved the attention she gave me. it made me feel like i was at the top of the fucking world. her love for me made me like her. i know that’s fucked up but i realized way later.”

you stay quiet as he explains, blinking at him and trying to stay as neutral as possible

“but you,” he pauses, shaking his head. “you wanted nothing to do with me. i didn’t get it. i didn’t like you because of that. a lot of people would say it would intrigue them but it hurt my ego.”

oh

you didn’t know that

“but as time went on i felt myself craving your validation just because i wanted to prove to you that i was likeable. that i wasn’t gross or nothing more than just a fuckboy. that i did have something good to offer.”

he quietly sniffles and wipes his newer tears with the back of his hand

you didn’t know he was still holding onto those things you said

but after finding out about his trauma…

“i had to put in work for you. it was completely different as it was with her. and the moment i realized i was feeling something for you, i got defensive and didn’t want to admit it. you being with yoongi just reminded me of when she cheated but not because you look alike, but simply because i’d been in a situation like this before.”

you take a deep breath. “did you say you hated my features because they reminded you of her?”

he stays quiet for a few moments.

“yes.”

you turn to the sink again and lean against it with your arms, hanging your head down

“no matter how shitty of me it was, i realized i needed to stay away from you until i got my shit together cause in that moment i did think i wanted you because of her. and that’s when i isolated for two months.”

you try not to cry but the silent tears make a whole lot of noise when they land in the sink

“but then i saw you at that party, it made me realize what the fuck i was doing was bullshit. you came dressed like a fallen angel. covered in blood, a broken halo, clipped wings. it made me realize even with all that,” he pauses, ���you’re still an angel. you’re still y/n. not mia. the extra things on your costume were like your similar features because they didn’t define you, much less what i felt for you. you still make my heart beat out of my chest. you still make me want to launch myself at the sun. you still make me wonder what i did to be so lucky to even spend a minute of my day with you. and it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with you.”

you sniff quietly, moving your hand up to wipe your runny nose with the back of your hand

“she’s engaged now and i’m happy she found what she was looking for. i wasn’t mad that she left me, i was mad that she cheated. it made me feel like trash. it reminded me of my dad. and if i was really so obsessed with her like hyung says, wouldn’t all the girls i slept with look like her? does eunbi look like you? does isabella? does hyunjoo? areum? miyoung? sahee? han–”

“i get it,” you mumble.

like man ain’t nobody trynna hear that shit rn😒

and he’s right

you look absolutely nothing like those girls

you slowly turn to look at him and he sniffs again, wiping his runny nose and he clearly doesn’t care about wiping his tears anymore

you rub your own arms in comfort

“alright. you’ve said your piece. aren’t you going to ask about my dirty laundry?”

he squints his eyes at you. “did you lie to me about being on the pill?”

you truthfully shake your head in response

“then whatever happened back then is none of my business.”

oh

okay.

you didn’t expect that

it’s quiet for a few moments

real quiet

until he speaks up

he quietly sniffles when he asks, “do you want me to leave?”

to be continued

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[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Ironies of Life - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster/ Fem!OC (Naomi)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; Exes; Emotional Angst; Brief Vomiting; Rooster Being a bit of a Dick; Named Female OC (Naomi), but No Physical Descriptions

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Naomi is referenced as being a woman and she was previously an officer in the Navy. But otherwise there is no description of her physical features or her surname, so fill in as you wish.

Summary: A few weeks after breaking up with her long-term boyfriend because he wouldn't commit to marriage and kids, Naomi finds out that she's pregnant with his baby.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Master List

Naomi had several big plans for her thirties.

Being alone, pregnant with her ex-boyfriend’s baby, and with her head in a toilet was not on the list. And neither was being blocked by her ex-boyfriend, Lieutenant Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, on every single possible messaging service, so that she couldn’t actually get in contact with him.

Yeah, that was nowhere on the list of her plans.

And the stupidest part about the whole situation was that she was the one who broke up with him. If she’d just waited a month longer, maybe she’d still have Bradley beside her, holding back her hair right now. But that wasn’t exactly a guarantee either.

After all, the whole reason behind her decision to break up with her boyfriend of six years was because he refused to commit to a future that included marriage and kids. They had a fight about it. And then another fight. And another. And then another. And then Naomi ended things because they just didn’t want the same things in life and Bradley was never going to end it.

So, she broke up with him. And she was clearly doing so well with her post-break up life.

Naomi spat what was left in her mouth before slowly lowering herself to sit on her bathroom floor. She rested her weight against the tub and pressed a cool towel to her head to try and control her nausea. After she was sure that she wouldn’t throw up again, Naomi flushed the toilet, slowly got to her feet, and made her way out of her bathroom.

Sitting on her bed, Naomi pulled out her phone and tried to call Bradley again. But apparently, she was still blocked. Sighing, Naomi tossed her phone onto her bed and held her head in her hands to try and compose herself. She let out a calming breath and laid down. Resting a hand on her abdomen, Naomi took another deep breath.

“Looks like it’s still just you and me, Little Bean,” she murmured tiredly. 

She was on the verge of entering her second trimester and her baby bump was just starting to form. Any kind of loose shirt that she wore still hid it, but she knew that she would quickly reach a point in her pregnancy where baggy clothing wouldn’t do the trick anymore.

She wouldn’t be able to hide a baby forever. And Naomi just hoped that Bradley would talk to her soon, before he learned about her pregnancy through someone else.

But part of her kicked herself for being so focused on telling Bradley.

He very clearly didn't want children and he very clearly hated her after she broke up with him. And it wasn't like she expected him to want to get back together and raise a baby that he never wanted in the first place. Naomi accepted that Bradley didn't want to be a dad and that forcing someone to be a parent who didn't want to be one was wrong and it would only create more problems in the future.

So, why was she so hellbent on finding him to tell him the news?

She wasn't entirely sure to be quite honest.

She just felt like after spending six years of their together, she owed him the truth. She owed him an in-person heads up. And maybe she just needed some closure too. Maybe she just needed to hear him say it one last time and then she could move on with this next stage of her life. Maybe she just needed confirmation for herself and for her Little Bean, who would inevitably ask about their father one day.

But regardless, she needed to find Rooster. And she was quickly running out of time with that project.

~~~~~

Naomi tried to not stare at the happy couple that left the obstetric office holding hands and absolutely giddy about the ultrasound they carried with them. And she really tried to not picture Bradley sitting beside her in the office. It would only make sure sick and anxious and doctors offices already made her nervous enough.

Another two months had passed and she was still nowhere closer to getting in touch with Bradley. Last she heard, he was out somewhere in the Atlantic, but he must have marked her email address as spam or otherwise blocked her because he hadn’t responded to any of her messages.

It was still just her and the Little Bean, who wasn’t so little anymore.

“Naomi?” one of the medical assistants called, standing in the doorway.

Naomi quickly gathered her things and followed the medical assistant back into an exam room. After a few minutes and some screening questions, Naomi was staring at the photo of her baby wiggling around on the ultrasound screen.

“Measurements are all normal and right on track,” the obstetrician stated, typing in notes as she moved the ultrasound wand around. “And the baby’s heartbeat is strong and normal. You have a healthy baby on your hands.” The obstetrician turned back to Naomi and smiled kindly. “Did you want to know what the baby’s gender is?”

“No, that’s alright,” Naomi replied quietly, forcing a smile. “I can wait a few more months.”

Her brain rationalized that it wouldn’t be a crime to find out without Bradley there—he hadn’t responded to any of her messages, including a handwritten letter—but Naomi still wanted to wait.

The obstetrician took some final measurements and sent Naomi out with two freshly printed ultrasound photos in hand. Naomi made her next appointment and headed out of the office. Just as she reached her car, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling it out, Naomi glanced down to see a text message from one of her old friends from her time in the Navy.

I know that you’ve been asking around about Rooster. I just thought that I should give you a heads up that he was at the Hard Deck in Miramar last night.

Her friend sent a photo along with the text and Naomi’s breath caught in her throat when she recognized that particular Hawaiian shirt and matching mustache.

What was he doing in Miramar? He was supposed to be out in the Atlantic for two more months.

Naomi quickly shot her friend a text back, thanking her for the tip, before climbing into her car. She managed to get out of work on the earlier side and rushed back to her apartment. Stepping inside, Naomi didn’t break her confident stride until she was sitting in front of her computer.

She didn’t know how long Bradley would be in Miramar for, but it was the closest thing that she had to a lead in months. And she wasn’t going to waste that opportunity.

~~~~~

“Do you mind grabbing some pretzels?” Phoenix asked Bob, staring down at her list. “The spears, not the normal ones.”

The Dagger Squad decided to have a beach day after the mission and divided up the work. Phoenix, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy took the job of buying the snacks and non-alcoholic drinks. Fanboy and Payback were probably still debating whether red or green grapes were better and Phoenix wanted to speed up the process.

“Yeah, sure. We want chips or anything else in that aisle?” Bob asked, causing Phoenix to shrug.

“Probably. Fanboy would know better than me, but I know that Harvard really wanted the pretzel spears for whatever reason.”

“I’ll see what they have.”

“I’ll be there in a second,” Phoenix promised, earning a nod from Bob.

He walked down the aisle and started looking for the pretzel spears. Bob glanced over at the noticeably pregnant woman struggling to reach something up on one of the top shelves, and well, he couldn’t not offer to help her. He was Bob Floyd, after all.

“Do you need some help?” Bob offered to the woman. She took a step back from the shelf and shot him a small smile.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” she replied sheepishly.

“Just the blue bag?”

“Yeah, just that one.”

Bob reached up and grabbed the bag on the top shelf before holding it out to the woman. She took it with a thankful smile and placed it into her small cart.

“Thank you so much for the help.”

“Of course,” Bob replied with a polite nod. “Do you need help with anything else?”

“No, I should be all set. Thank you again.”

“Not a problem.”

Naomi nodded back to Bob before heading towards the checkout counters. She stopped at the grocery store to grab a few quick snacks before starting her search for Bradley. The Little Bean was very hungry and needy these days and she wanted to be prepared.

But as Naomi walked down the aisle, Phoenix turned into the exact same aisle. The two women stopped in their respective tracks, staring at each other incredulously.

Naomi really shouldn’t have been surprised. Phoenix was in the photo of Bradley that she’d received from her friend, so, of course, Phoenix would be in Miramar too. But Naomi wasn’t planning on running into Phoenix in the middle of a random grocery store. And Phoenix, meanwhile, was focused on Naomi’s very noticeably baby bump.

“Fuck,” Phoenix whispered out, blinking rapidly.

It all made sense now. Naomi’s sudden disappearance from social media. All of her random and quite honestly incessant attempts to reconnect with Rooster over the last few months.

Fucking hell, Phoenix told Rooster to call Naomi back.

“Phoenix,” Naomi greeted the pilot, clearly nervous and unprepared for the interaction. “How are you doing?”

“I’m alright,” Phoenix replied, still shocked.

“You guys know each other?” Bob asked curiously, walking over with a bag of pretzel spears.

“We do,” Phoenix told her WSO before turning back to Naomi. “Does Rooster know that you’re here?”

“No, I tried to call him, but I’m pretty sure that he still has me blocked,” Naomi stated quietly, shifting her weight on her feet.

“Probably,” Phoenix agreed, just as quietly.

“I actually came to town because I needed to talk to him,” Naomi continued as her heart started to beat out of her chest. “About . . .”

Naomi gestured to her baby bump, which was already out and prominent enough that she couldn’t hide it from Phoenix even if she wanted to try.

Bob dropped his bag of pretzels.

~~~~~

Rooster was setting up a beach umbrella when his phone began to ring in his back pocket. Straightening up, Rooster checked his phone to see that Phoenix was calling him.

“Hey! You need help carrying stuff down to the beach?”

“No, I'm not at the beach,” Phoenix explained, eerily soft. “But the guys should be there soon.”

“Why did they ditch you?” Rooster asked, suddenly concerned.

“I sent them ahead. Something came up.”

“What? Are you okay?”

“When was the last time that you talked to Naomi?” Phoenix questioned Rooster, getting straight to the point.

Rooster’s blood went cold at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. The woman who quite literally shattered his heart in his chest when she broke up with him five or so months ago. And maybe he wasn’t over it yet. But watching a six-year relationship implode overnight was a rather jarring experience and Rooster felt that he was entitled to be a little petty about it.

“Nat, why the fuck are you talking about Naomi?”

“When was the last time that you talked with her?” Phoenix insisted, ignoring Rooster’s squawk.

“When she broke up with me,” he deadpanned, starting to pace around. He ignored the curious and concerned glances from the other Daggers. “There? You happy, Nat? Now why are you bringing up my ex all of a sudden?”

There was a brief pause, but then Phoenix’s voice cut through the line with her usual crisp confidence.

“She’s in Miramar, Rooster. And she needs to talk to you.”

“Why is she in Miramar?” Rooster asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Because she needs to talk to you.”

“She could have called or texted me.”

“Don’t you still have her blocked?” Phoenix questioned, a bit of annoyance seeping into her tone.

“Well . . . you know what I mean, Nat,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why is she here? Did you talk to her?”

“I’m with her right now.”

“What!? Right now?”

“Yes, Rooster. We’re at a coffee shop a few blocks from the beach.” Phoenix paused, most likely weighing her options before adding, “You really need to talk to her, Rooster. And I’m not fucking around. Don’t make me drag your ass down here.”

“She made it clear that she didn’t see a future with me, Nat. Why do I want to deal with that again? Why should I deal with that again?”

“I know that she broke your heart. I know that you felt completely blindsided and betrayed and every other negative emotion when she broke up with you.” Phoenix trailed off, and Rooster could picture her stern expression clearly. “But you need to talk to her. Now.”

“Why?”

“It shouldn’t come from me,” Phoenix stated seriously. “Look, I can give her my phone and you two can chat. But you need to talk to her, Rooster. And I’m not fucking around. And I know that you'll regret it if you don't talk to her now.”

Rooster sighed, rubbing his face tiredly with clear aggravation.

“Fine. Put her on.”

“Thank you,” Phoenix sighed, sounding relieved.

“Bradley?” Naomi’s voice broke through a moment later.

“Yes?” Rooster snipped, failing at hiding his annoyance.

“How are you?” she began softly.

“Fine. Why are you in Miramar?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“We shouldn’t have this conversation over the phone,” Naomi stated, standing her ground on that part. “I have some news to share with you and I . . . I need to do it in person.”

“Why?”

“You’ll understand when you get here.”

Rooster let out an annoyed curse under his breath and rubbed his face, clearly aggravated. He stared up at the sky for a second before finally responding to her.

“Fine. Where are you?”

“The Green Café,” Naomi replied, sounding relieved. “It’s about four or five blocks from the beach.”

“Okay.”

Rooster hung up the phone and tucked it into his back pocket. Grabbing his bag, Rooster ignored everyone’s curious gazes and turned for the parking lot.

“What’s got your panties all in a twist?” Hangman called after Rooster.

Ignoring Hangman, Rooster flipped him off as he trudged through the sand. He walked up the steps to the boardwalk and spotted Bob with Payback and Fanboy pulling into the parking lot in Phoenix’s car. Rooster ignored their looks, which seemed to be shocked and nervous more than anything else, and headed straight for his car.

The drive to the Green Café was simple and Rooster quickly parked before heading over to the outdoor seating. Phoenix and Naomi were chatting at one of the tables and Phoenix quickly spotted him. Rooster shot Phoenix an annoyed look before turning to Naomi.

But when Naomi turned around, Rooster literally froze in place. His breath left his body and his keys clattered down onto the sidewalk as his eyes focused on the very noticeable baby bump that Naomi was now sporting.

That wasn’t there the last time that he saw her.

“I’m going to give the two of you some privacy,” Phoenix announced, which did little to quell Rooster’s shock. “Have fun.”

Phoenix walked around the table and over to Rooster. She quickly bent down to snatch up his keys and kept walking towards where he parked the Bronco. And Rooster was still too stunned at the fact that Naomi was sitting right there in front of him and pregnant to grab his keys back.

Naomi offered Rooster a small, awkward smile. Her hands trembled with nerves as she smoothed her hands over her bump.

“Hi, Bradley.”

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[bangthemsonyeondamn]

♥︎𝑻𝒐𝒐 𝑫𝒂𝒎𝒏 𝑳𝒐𝒚𝒂𝒍♥︎ᝰ 𝑱𝑱𝑲

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 12.6k

Genre: Married Couple, Some light BDSM, Light dom/sub, Mature Audience Only.

Summary: Both are absolutely in love with each other but he thinks she deserves better so OC just get's angry and umm yeah, punishes him (they both want it). dorks in love who are whipped for each other, Jungkook loves to yap & blushes a lot. here he is from a poor background married to a very rich women and he feels insecure. he loves to argue and rile up his wife, his wife has a thing for calling him her "husband". she calls him her perfect man and remembers every slight thing he mentions. Soft Dom wife who is ready to do anything her husband asks him to and he get's angry because she's "too damn loyal" to him.

Warning: Mentions of alcohol, candle wax, blindfold, gag, flogging, riding crop, handcuffs.

IF UNCOMFORTABLE WHILE READING KINDLY SCROLL AWAY :)

Jungkook is your husband of 2 years. You married him because you fell for him first and proposed to directly marry, he was shocked and on the moon because he did have a crush on you back then. It took him multiple dates to agree to marry you. Both of your parents didn't agree because according to them you don't belong with each other, well you think otherwise cause he is the perfect one for you. 

Your parents think he's just with you for money and his parents think you're too controlling for their son. There were really limited people in your wedding unlike your sister's which you and Jungkook got an invite to, well your sister only invited you knowing damn well you're married and won't go anywhere without your husband.

Some people just stare at him and don't even approach him even though they know he is the husband of one of the most influential personalities. When people speak to you, they ignore him like he is not even there or straight up insult him saying "if you need a job, call me I have a position for you".

You get fed up with them and you both sit in the corner while the ceremony comes to an end almost. Jungkook sits next to you while holding back tears he holds your hand

"I can't stand hearing that," he said in a whisper.

You squeeze his hand for some support because you know how toxic your family is, they put a facade of being kind to the world. sometimes you think you're like that too, you only care about Jungkook and yourself that's it.

"Let's go" he takes your hand and starts walking with you. once you were away from everyone, he looked at you, holding back tears "d-do you still love me?"

"hun I only love you no one else" As soon as he heard that he hugs you tight not wanting to let you go.

"I love you so much" he whispered in your ear.

"My baby please calm down" you rub his back for support.

He holds you tighter not wanting to let you go, his heart is racing "I hate them so much"

"Me too"

He looks at you, his eyes are a little red. "I hate the way they look at me, they treat me like I'm just a bug"

"Do you want to eat out in a hotel?" you said distracting him because you don't want to stay in the wedding and stress him out.

He nods "please" he said in a whisper still holding onto you, not wanting to let go

You hail a taxi, he is still holding onto you tightly, you can see that he is shaking a little and still holding back tears. "baby you can cry just make sure to take deep breaths okay so you don't choke"

He nods, and after taking a deep breath he starts crying quietly, his tears stream down his face, he buries his face against your shoulder, the sobs are shaking his shoulders. he keeps holding onto you, his fists clenching your shirt, his head buried in your shoulder, his body still shaking as he cries. You can hear him faintly muttering I'm sorry's and I love you's in between sobs.

"I love you always remember"

you answer him. He tightens his grip on you as you say that, crying even harder.

"I love y-you too" he managed to say in between sobs, his breathing  and shaky. "promise you'll never leave me...please" he said, his voice shaky, looking up at you, his eyes red and tear filled, his fingers still clenching your shirt.

"I'll die but won't leave, okay? you said rubbing his back so he calms down. He nods, he hugs you tighter and buries his face against your chest, still crying, you can hear him mumbling "I love you" over and over again like a chorus. he leans up and rests his forehead against yours, his face wet with tears, he takes  breaths, his voice is shaky, but he manages to speak. "please don't ever leave me, please...you're the only light in my life"

"You have to promise me as well" you said and intertwine your fingers.

Holding your face in his shaky hands "I promise I won't. I wont, ever, ever, leave you, I promise" he said, his voice still shaky from crying.

"I swear I'll find you okay?" you said and left soft kissing on the back of his palm. He nods, holding you close "promise me? You'll always find me no matter what"

"No matter what" you whispered in his ear.

"And I'll do the same for you" he said quietly, hugging you tighter, you feel his tears trickle down his face again. He buries his face against your chest again, breathing shakily "promise me" he repeated again, his grip on you tightens.

"I promise my gguk" hearing you call him 'my gguk' makes his heart beat faster, he clings onto you even tighter, and nods "I promise too, my love"

"Let's go?"

He takes a few deep breaths to calm himself down, still clinging onto you though "yeah, let's go. I want cuddles" forgetting about eating.

"After eating" you remind him that you're going to a hotel not home.

He finally lets go of you "yes, food, then cuddles" he said quietly, you can still see the evidence of tears on his cheeks, but he's slowly beginning to calm down.

"You should fill your tummy to the brim okay?" you said hugging his bicep.

He smiles faintly  "I'll do that, for you. I'm really hungry"

"Yes let's eat"

he says taking your hand in his "let's go then"

"It's a expensive restaurant"

you said as he was busy looking at the exterior of the hotel.

He raises an eyebrow "how expensive are we talking? I didn't exactly bring a lot of money"

"What? I'm paying" you tell him.

 He shakes his head  "Nuh uh, I'm paying. I'm the husband, it's my job"

"nuh uh I'm your wife it's my duty to fill your stomach"

 He pouts at you  "and it's my duty as your husband to spoil you and buy you things. So I'm paying"

“It's my duty to always make you happy”

 He pouts even more, knowing that he won't be able to win this argument, but he's stubborn  "You make me happy by just existing. Paying for your food is the least I can do"

“No smiling is the least you should do”

He smiles faintly "I won't smile until you let me pay. Or at least let me pay half"

“okie don't smile I can handle angry kookie”

He tried to act angry, folding his arms defiantly, still refusing to smile "I'm serious, I'm paying. Or letting me pay half. I won’t smile until you agree"

“Fine by me, don't smile, c'mon”

He frowns again, stubbornly refusing to smile, he mutters something like "I'll win this argument some day" but he grabs your hand and leaves the car and starts heading towards the restaurant.

He stops in his tracks at the sight of the prices. He slowly looks at you, his eyes wide, and he just mutters 

"Are you sure we shouldn't go somewhere cheaper?"

“No, only the best food for you”

He looks back at the prices, still shock and sighs, he knows he won't win this argument 

"A-are you sure? It's a lot of money"'

“hmm excuse me, we're ready to order" you said ignoring your sulky worried husband.

The waiter looks up and smiles at you "what would you like to order?"

“We'll have 2 wagyu steaks, oysters, and Hawaiian Pizza. Chocolate pudding, cajun sliders, 4 cans of beer and 2 bottles of soju”

The waiter writes down your order and smiles again  "Certainly, your order will be delivered in a few minutes. Can I ask for both or your names please?"

“Mr & Mrs Jeon” you said proudly.

The waiter smiles wider upon hearing that  "Okay Mr and Mrs. Jeon. Please, take a seat and your food will be with you within few minutes"

After the waiter left, Jeongguk still looks slightly shocked as he spoke up 

"Love...that's gonna be so much money. How- how are you going to pay for this?"

“Babe, just eat and don't use your brain” he pouts, but he nods, not wanting to argue any more. He knows he won't win. 

"But I'm paying next time. Okay?"'

“hmmm”

"I see, you're going to be difficult when it comes to that aren't you?"

“Hehe” you giggle

"you're so stubborn."  he muttered before grabbing your hand and linking his fingers together. you brush his hair back. He closed his eyes and smiled slightly at your touch, the tension in his shoulders seemed to melt away as you caressed his hair, he held onto your hand with a comfortable firmness but not too tight. He hummed quietly and relaxed against your touch. 

“ggukie”

His eyes still closed, he made a questioning noise to show that he's listening. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at you, his hair somewhat messy from you touching and caressing his hair, and he smiled faintly at you. The earlier tension and pain seemed to be nowhere in sight, only blissful and comfortable calm remained on his face 

“Should we go shopping tomorrow?”

His eyes narrow at the mention of shopping  "Yeah! I'll be able to spend time with you, and we'll end up spending more money"  he teased jokingly at the end, being sarcastic. 

“just for you” you already have enough clothes.

He smiled wider at that, tilting his head to one side  "You're spoiling me too much. You need to let me spoil you too."

“Another time” he pouts slightly at that, he wants to spoil you too  "When will that be then, love?"

“hmmm I will decide later”

He tilts his head slightly again at your vague answer, but he smiles at you too.  "You really are stubborn, you know that?"  he teased playfully 

“uh huh”

He sticks his tongue out at you and huffs slightly, still pouting  "but it's one of the things I love about you. It's adorable when you're stubborn, even if it's annoying sometimes"

“The dishes arrive, let's eat" he nods, his gaze lingering on you for a few more seconds as if committing your face to memory, and then he starts eating happily. He looks up at you as he chews his food and smiles  "these are so good"

“hmm”

“it's too god” you mispronounce with a mouthful of food.

His mouth is full with food as he tries to find words to tease you. "It's really god"  he said in between chews and smirks at you, copying you. he swallowed before speaking again 

"I love it. You really chose all my favorites"  he beamed at you, his eyes shining in both fondness and happiness. He seemed a little too happy just because he was being fed with his favorite food.

“Eat well”

He takes another bite and hums happily, nodding. 

"I'm eating well. I'm happy you fed me my favorites. I'm happy I get to be with you. I'm a really lucky man"

"I'm the lucky one"

He smiles widely, shaking his head as he swallows 

"No, I'm the lucky one." he says, staring at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes 

“No I'm it's obvious ask anyone” you reply back quickly.

His gaze still holds lots of love "No no, I'm the lucky one. Look at you, beautiful, kind, sweet, loving, adorable. I'm definitely the lucky one"

“Look at you handsome, cute, adorable, sexy, goodlooking, hardworking, gentle, kind, passionate, respectful, sweet, caring who can compete with that” you said it made him flustered. 

“I can also do anything for you”

He smiles softly and reaches out to gently stroke your cheek "I know you can. You do everything for me, love. Which is why I'm the lucky one to have you. You're too good for me"

“No you're way too good for me”

He shakes his head firmly, cupping your face in his hands gently. "No, I'm serious. You're so perfect. I don't deserve you, and yet you love me anyway, and it's honestly a wonder how I managed to capture your attention."

“You're perfect, I just act like I am”

He gently pinched your cheek playfully at that, shaking his head again "Stop that. You're not just 'acting' like anything. You are perfect. You make me happy just by existing, and I will defend that till the day I die. You're perfect no matter what you say"

“hehe says the perfect guy himself,” you said, drinking beer and opening a can for him too.But he doesn't stop holding your face in his hands, he gently caresses your cheeks with his thumbs gently and playfully.

"You're perfect-ier okay? Way more perfect than me."

“so you're perfect-iest more perfect most perfect”

He laughs quietly at your words and the way you worded them. 

"There is no such word as 'perfect-iest' love"  he teased, pinching your cheek again 

“Also no such thing as perfect-ier”

He rolled his eyes playfully, sticking his tongue out at you, 

"You know what I mean"  he pouted, looking at you with his puppy eyes for a split second before looking away again 

“you also know what I meant”

Shaking his head again, still pouting slightly, but his expression was a mix of playfulness and slight pouty annoyance.

"Hmph. You're so stubborn"

“you too” you teased. Trying to distract him from all the harsh words he heard today. 

"Yeahhh, so what? I'm stubborn"

He said it as if it was a challenge. He crossed his arms, as if a challenge for you to respond to that. 

“you're still my man”

He relaxed a little at that, arms falling loosely by his sides, slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. his whole demeanor softened slightly at those words. 

"I'm still your man"  he repeats your words, his voice soft and loving 

“will always be"

He smiles widely at those words, the smile reaching his eyes as he says  "And you will always be mine. Forever."

“hmm ofcourse I can't let anyone snatch you my handsome husband”

He raised an eyebrow, a cheeky smile spreading across his face as he said, 

"Oh really now? Why's that, love? Are you worried that someone will steal me away from you?"

“hmm sometimes”

He hums thoughtfully, a slightly teasing tone in his voice, 

"Oh? Is that so? What's the reason for the 'sometimes', hm? Don't you have confidence that I won't leave you?"

“I don't know”

He chuckles quietly and shakes his head "Really? You don't know? I thought you would. Do you doubt my love for you, darling?"

There's a slight teasing in his tone, but he's also curious. he wants to hear your answer 

“I don't doubt you I don't trust others” you answered what you felt in your heart.

He hums at that, his expression visibly softening as you answer. the slight teasing in his tone is completely gone, replaced by a hint of tenderness and understanding 

"You don't trust others, so you get worried that they can take me away from you. Is that it?"

“Yeah”

He takes hold of both of your hands in his. He looks deeply into your eyes as he spoke in a soft, tender voice 

"Love, you really don't have to worry about that. No one can take me away from you, or you away from me, okay? We're in this together, forever. You're stuck with me forever, darling"  he added teasingly. 

“You too,” you said truthfully.

 He agrees, giving your hands a gentle squeeze.

"Only you. Just you. And I don't want anyone else either. You don't have to worry about losing me. I'm yours, darling"

“I'm my Jungkook's as well”

He smiles wider at that, there's a slightly possessive edge to his smile 

" Exactly. You're mine, all mine."

“Let's go?” you said standing up with support at the table, you both are tipsy and dazed because of the soju

“Go get the taxi, I'm just getting the bill”

He nods and stands, stretching his arms over his head and groaning quietly at the slight strain in his muscles in a way that he knows you find stupidly attractive. His shirt lifting up just the tiniest bit, revealing a narrow strip of tanned skin. He then turns to head outside and hails a cab.

 After getting the cab, he looks back and sees you exiting the restaurant, he turns fully to look at you directly, his gaze lingering on you for a few extra seconds, as if he had a hard time taking his eyes off you. After a few seconds, his gaze flicked up to the impatient cabby before he looked back at you with a small grin on his face.

"Love, you should hurry up, the cabby's impatient"

“yeah this is for you” you hand him his corn ice cream.

He takes corn ice cream, his eyes widening in surprise and he looks at you with an affectionate expression, as if he's saying 'you remembered' without actually saying anything.

"Thank you, darling"

“Love you”

Slightly looking away from you for a moment and taking a bite of the ice cream as he muttered out 

"Love you too..." his words were slightly muffled by the food in his mouth, and he tried to act nonchalant as he refused to look at you directly. 

 He continues to eat the ice cream, his gaze turning back to you every few seconds, as if he can't look away for more than a few seconds at a time. He hums quietly, his expression visibly softened as he eats. His pouting, though very slight, is still present as he looks at you. It was clear that he's trying to act nonchalant, even if he's not doing a very good job, his gaze still lingering on you every few seconds. There are some thoughts in his head and the soju he drank is just encouraging him more.

He looks at you, his tongue sneaking out to lick the ice cream dripping down the side of the cone, his gaze still lingering on you as he did that. 

"You are staring at me or something, love?"  he said in a slightly playful tone, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he raised an eyebrow at you.

“Huh?” you question him because he’s the one ogling you.

 he looks amused at your response, still eating the ice cream, his gaze still on you, he then chuckles quietly, shaking his head slightly 

"You are staring at me, love. Did I have food on my face?"  he teased, smiling slightly as he raised the cone of ice cream to his lips and took another bite.

“you're the one staring at me and then the window? I thought you want to say something”

"I'm not staring. I'm just taking glances every few seconds. Totally different."  he muttered, stubbornly looking out the window 

“hmm ofcourse” you said.

His pout deepens as he still refuses to look at you  

"Love, can I ask you something?"

 He asked, still looking out the window, but he sneaked a slight glance sideways at you, observing your face subtly.

“Yes bub”

He hesitates for a moment before continuing slowly and quietly  "You don't doubt me, right..."  he glanced at you again before looking out the window again, his expression slightly vulnerable for a split second. 

“About?”

He bites his lower lip slightly, nervous. He's obviously not sure of how to continue, he looks out the window again, before speaking up again 

"You don't.. Doubt that I will cheat, right... Or leave you... For someone else...?"

“Of course I don't doubt bub, but sometimes circumstances are not in our favour okay?”

He nods, but the vulnerability on his face is still there, he can't hide it even if he tries. He glances at you again 

"I know... But... You trust me, right? You trust that I won't ever cheat on you...?"

“I trust you with my blind eyes”

He smiles faintly at that, still looking slightly vulnerable. He's still not quite confident that you fully trust him, but at least these words give him some sense of security.

"Even with your blind eyes..."  he repeats in a soft, quiet voice, as if he's reassuring himself more than trying to reassure you.

“Yes even if you push me off the cliff i would believe it was because you wanted something good for me okay?”

He looks at you, his eyes widening slightly in shock at those words. He doesn't say anything for a moment, just staring at you with a mixture of shock, disbelief, and a hint of tenderness 

"Love... You can't say things like that. Stop being so loyal, it's dangerous"

“huh? What's wrong with being loyal and in love with my husband? Why is it dangerous?”

Shaking his head in disbelief. He looks exasperated and there's a slight hint of affection in his eyes at your words, 

"Love! You shouldn't say that. You shouldn't ever be loyal to someone, to anyone, to the point that you would still trust them if they pushed you off a cliff! That's way too much love!"

“It's not anyone gguk, it's you bub”

Rolling his eyes slightly. He can't help it, even your sweet words makes him want to playfully bicker a little,

"It doesn't matter if it's me or not. My point still stands, you're too loyal to me and it's dangerous"

“So what?”

He sighs, shaking his head in slight disbelief. There's a hint of fondness in his expression at your stubbornness,

"So what? So it's dangerous! What if I did something terrible huh? And you would still trust me even if I pushed you off a cliff or something. That's dangerous"

“hehe would you push me off a cliff?” you giggle at him.

He looks at you, his expression suddenly serious. He's silent for a moment, staring at you with a firm, intense look in his eyes 

"Of course not. Never. I would never do that. I would die before I'd push you off a cliff"

“ Exactly why I trust you”

In slight annoyance, his expression became slightly stubborn and annoyed. Despite how he's feeling, he can feel himself softening at your answer, 

"You shouldn't trust me that much though love, it's dangerous. You need to consider yourself more"

“hmm how about no?” you replied back knowing this will make him annoyed.

"No? No? You're supposed to listen to me love. And I'm saying it's dangerous and you shouldn't trust me that much. Your loyalty is going to get you hurt"

“What's wrong, is something bothering you?”

He sighs, his shoulders dropping slightly, 

"I... No, nothing is bothering me. It's just that, you're way too good for your own good, love. And I don't know what to do. You're so loyal to me that it's dangerous. It makes me worry..."

“Don't worry nor I'm being too much nor you”

Quietly looking at you with a slightly stubborn expression. Even though he claims he's not worried, the worry and concern is clear on his face

"I can't help but worry though. You're too loyal and loving, someone could take advantage of that"

“Do you trust me?”

He nods instantly, the stubbornness and slight annoyance fading away instantly.

"Of course, I trust you fully, darling. You know that. I'm worried about others using your loyalty to take advantage of you"

“I'm only like this with you. Do you believe me?”

His expression visibly softened, the stubbornness completely gone. He looks at you with a slightly tender expression and nods.

"Yes, I know you only act this loving and loyal with me. But that doesn't mean someone can't take advantage of you and your loyalty"

“I'm not close to anyone other than you bub, only trust you and no one else, don't worry”

He hums quietly, looking at you with a slight frown on his face, still worried 

"I know love. I know you're not close to anyone but me. That's what's worrying me. You only trust me, what if I do something to betray your trust one day?"

“Would you?”

He scoffs as if he can't believe you even asked him that. He looks at you with a mixture of annoyance and disbelief at your words 

"What? Of course not! I'm not going to betray your trust, you should know that!"

“Exactly I know that, that's why I trust you”

Looking away for a moment before looking back at you again. His annoyance is gone, and only a gentle stubbornness is present in his expression now.

"You shouldn't be so trusting. Just because you know I wouldn't betray your trust doesn't mean you shouldn't keep some boundaries. You shouldn't be this loyal to me, love"

“okay”

He raises an eyebrow at your response, he's a bit surprised that you actually seem to listen to him for once. 

"Okay? You're really going to listen to me for once? No arguing?"

You’re silent and watching out of the window.

He looks at you, slightly surprised at your quietness. Usually, you'd be arguing with him right now, refusing to listen to what he said. But you're just quiet now, a mixture of annoyance and fondness visible on his face 

"You're being surprisingly obedient right now love"

 He looks at you with a hint of curiosity, trying to figure out what's going on inside your head right now. He's never seen you be this obedient and quiet before 

"You're usually more stubborn than this. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours, love?"

You smirk but don't say anything staying silent the whole time.

Slightly irritated with your sudden silent stubbornness. He's used to your usual feisty personality, and this sudden quietness is throwing him off.

"Love, stop being like this, it's strange. You should be arguing with me right now, it feels weird to not have you fighting back with me"

He reaches out without thinking, grabbing your chin gently and pulling your face closer to him so he can examine your expression closely 

"Love, talk. Why aren't you arguing with me? You're usually so stubborn, and now you're quiet. It's driving me crazy"

 When you remain silent, his grip on your chin slightly tightening as he pulls your face even closer to him, his gaze narrowing in frustration 

"Stop being quiet. I don't like it. Talk. Now."

He looks at you, his fingers still holding onto your chin, his expression becoming slightly angry as you continue to stay silently stubborn. Again, trying to keep his annoyance in check but failing miserably. His deer eyes stare into your making it difficult to ignore him.

"Love, either talk or I'll kiss you. Which one is it going to be?"

He's becoming increasingly frustrated with your continued silence. Without giving you any time to respond and grabs your chin tighter, pulling your face even closer so you're mere inches away from him, his gaze darkened with annoyance and a hint of desire 

"Fine. You want to be stubborn? Then I'll just force you to open your mouth. And I won't mind if I have to kiss you to do it"

“Your ice cream” you said pointing at his ice cream.

Rolling his eyes at your response, he loosens his grip on your chin slightly 

"Forget my ice cream. I have something sweeter in sight right now"

“My mouth's bitter rn”

 he scoffs, his grip still on your chin, looking at you with a slight smirk, his gaze darkened 

"Oh yeah? I highly doubt that. I bet your mouth is sweet as honey, love"

“No it's bitter rn”

He tuts, shaking his head slightly, his smirk still in place. He leans in, his face even closer to yours, his lip almost touching yours 

"Is that so? Well, I'll have to see for myself. I think I should taste your mouth and see for myself"

“It's bitter because my husband thinks I shouldn't trust him”

His grip on your chin tightening slightly  "That's not the point, love. I don't mind you trusting me, I just don't want you to be too loyal. There's a difference"

“There is no such thing as too much loyalty” you said with sass.

"Yes, there is love. You're too loyal, it's dangerous. You should have some boundaries, you shouldn't be so trusting and loyal to me that you'd go to the extremes if I asked you to"

“It’s my choice” 

"That's exactly my point, love. You're willing to do anything I say even if I don't ask. You shouldn't be this loyal. What if I ask you to do something bad? Or what if I push you too far? You're too trusting, love. You should have some boundaries"

“I don't care”

His expression darkened even more, his eyes filled with annoyance and frustration.

"Damnit love, you're pissing me off. Stop being so stubborn. You can't just trust me with anything and everything. You need to set some boundaries. Damnit, I'm trying to look out for you"

“And I'm looking out for you”

His expression visibly softened slightly. His grip on your chin loosens a little, and his glare fades a little.

"Love, you don't have to look out for me. I can look out for myself. You're the one who's a saint, you don't need to worry about me"

'Me, a saint?’

He rolls his eyes at your question, his expression becoming annoyed again. 

"Of course you're a saint. You're too loyal and loving. You're willing to overlook all my mistakes. You're too good for your own good and you're too loyal to me. You're a saint"

“If I'm a saint then what are you?”

"Me, I'm far from a saint. I'm flawed and human, I make mistakes and I shouldn't be trusted. I don't deserve your saint-like trust and loyalty, love"

“Then what do you deserve?”

He looks away for a moment, his expression almost sullen and vulnerable for a split second before he snaps back to his usual expression 

"I don't deserve anything good, love. I know that I don't deserve you. I know I'm far from being worthy of your loyalty and love"

“Then what do I get?” you annoy him with you questions.

He's trying to keep his annoyance in check, but he's struggling a bit 

"Nothing. You don't get anything, love. I don't deserve you but I'm too damn selfish to let you go."

“I don't get anything too?” he looks adorable being angry at you both you’re doing this so it can end how he wants.

"No, you don't get anything, love. I'm too damaged and broken to give you anything good. You shouldn't waste your time and love and loyalty on someone like me"

“so what should I do”

"You should... Stop caring about me. Stop loving me. And find someone better" oh he didn’t dare.

You close the gap between both of you.

He's briefly startled by your sudden movement but quickly regains his composure. His grip on your chin tightens again, and he looks almost taken aback by your sudden close proximity 

"Love, what-what are you doing?"

“Can you watch me? someone else kissing me, hugging me, touching me? Huh?” you ask in a challenging tone.

He looks at you, confusion and anger flaring up in his eyes at the thought of someone having their hands on you, their lips on yours.

"No. No, I can't watch that. No one can touch you like that. You're mine."

“Then how could I ever find someone better when the best is my own husband”

He blinks for a moment, slightly startled by your words. Your words take him by surprise, he wasn't expecting that. He looks at you, a mixture of confusion and frustration still visible in his eyes, but there's a hint of vulnerability now 

"Love, I'm far from the best. I'm broken and damaged, I'm not the best choice for you"

“Then who is? you're my husband mine I didn't marry you blindfolded I married you because I knew what's best for me”

His face becoming slightly softer, the anger and irritation slowly fading away and being replaced by a mixture of vulnerability and tenderness 

"I know you married me by choice, love. But I'm not good for you. You shouldn't be so loyal to me, I don't deserve it. You deserve someone better"

“Someone better? What if he cheats on me, lies to me, betrays me?” a brief flicker of anger appearing in his eyes. 

"Someone better, love. Someone who isn't as flawed and selfish as I am. Someone who isn't as possessive and broken as I am. Someone who isn't damaged and has the capacity to love you better than I can"

“Jungkook there is no one as good as a man you are, no one else” he looks away for a moment, struggling to maintain his firm stance and not let himself soften against your words.

"Love, you're too loyal. You see me through rose-colored glasses. I'm far from a good man, love. You need to see me for who I really am and stop being so loyal and loving towards me. You're only setting yourself up for disappointment" okay now he is saying too much. 

“If I'm setting myself for disappointments then let it be I choose that myself not you”

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, love. You're too good for your own good. You shouldn't willingly set yourself up for disappointment, you should have standards and boundaries. You shouldn't be so naive or naive to trust and love me like this"

“Then why should I not love you when I actually love you, not care for you when I'm always worried about you, not love you , hug you, kiss you?”

He becomes even more frustrated, conflicted between his own desire for your love and loyalty and his belief that you deserve better.

"Damnit love, you're too loyal and giving. You shouldn't love me, you shouldn't care for me, you shouldn't love me or kiss me or hug me. You should have some boundaries, some standards for yourself"

“I will decide my boundaries and isn't love limitless , boundless?”

“Of course, love is boundless and limitless, but that's not the point. You're too good to me, you're too loyal and naively trusting. You're putting your own well-being at risk by loving me too much"

“There is no such thing as loving too much”

"Yes there is, love. You're loving me too much. You're going to the extremes and putting yourself and your own well-being at risk by being so fiercely loyal and loving towards me"

He knows earlier you should be close to your family you left them for him. you used to go on dinner with friends, trips, shopping sprees with them and now no one even calls you because you know they are gonna badmouth and insult your husband for no reason.

Now you just go from home to office and back home again because you broke relationships with anyone who said even the slightest insult to him.

This wedding is when you met your family after 6 months of contact and he made you leave again without eating with them. He knows you can't tolerate anyone speaking rudely to him so he tried to keep his emotions in check. but earlier he just burst and now those feelings are rising again.

“Well this is my love and you're stuck with me. you don't get any options to get out of it”

Your words make his heart flutter, but he tries to keep his demeanor firm and controlled.  "You don't know how annoying it is to know that you love me so fiercely and loyally. I'm supposed to be the one protecting you, not the other way around"

“No, we love each other right?”

Your words soften him for a moment, his expression becoming more vulnerable and tender. 

"Yes, love, we love each other. But you're being too loving, too loyal, too fierce in your devotion. I'm not worthy of it, love. I'm not good enough for you"

“If we love each other and we care for each other then we also protect each other, understand?”

He wants to argue, but your words make it difficult to argue. 

"Yes, love, I understand. We protect each other. But you're being too vulnerable, too exposed, too loyal. You're putting yourself at risk by loving me so fiercely"

“Guess what, I don't care,”  you said without any emotion in your voice. 

How can he argue against you when you're so fiercely loyal? 

"Love, that's exactly what I'm talking about. You're too willing to give yourself up, you don't care about yourself. You're too damn loyal"

“Deal with it, your ice cream is melting”

Your words snaps him out of his momentary vulnerability 

"Love, I swear you're such a handful. Forget my ice cream, I have a more stubborn and difficult sweet thing in front of me now"

“I bought it so you can eat it while you watch out of the taxi and relax, take your thoughts of stress for a while but you...

You pause for a while deciding to tease him even more.

“Jungkook?”

He looks at you with a mixture of annoyance, frustration, and affection in his eyes 

"What? What do you want now, love?"

“Do you have anyone else?” you know he is gonna be pissed. 

He blinks in surprise at your question, his expression becoming slightly taken aback. He looks at you, slight disbelief in his eyes 

"What? What kind of question is that? Of course, I don't have anyone else. Why would you even think that?"

“Why would you say that I'm too loyal you should be happy that I'm loyal not scared that I'm loyal, it's giving me some dangerous thoughts”

His hand resting on your hip "Love, you're overanalyzing my words. I just meant that you're taking it too far. You're being overly loyal, it's worrisome"

“Yeah I'm taking it too far” You decide to shut up for the whole ride.

Slightly amused by your sudden decision to be silent. He glances at you, a hint of a mischievous smirk forming on his lips. 

"Oh, decided to be quiet, love? It's a miracle."

The silence in the car made him feel both comfortable and restless simultaneously. The only sound in the car is the hum of the engine and the soft sounds of the city outside. He steals glances at you, his expression becoming conflicted again as he fights against the urge to start another argument 

Again, the silence in the car became almost unbearable. He can't take it anymore, the need to talk to you and hear your voice is too strong 

"Love, why are you being so silent now? You were being so stubborn earlier, and now you're suddenly quiet?"

Growing more and more frustrated with your silence. He can't stand not knowing what you're thinking, it's driving him crazy. He looks at you, his expression pleading 

"Say something, love. Anything. Just talk to me. Don't keep silent like this"

You both reached home and you paid the taxi before Jungkook could open his wallet and you walked straight towards the elevator, ignoring him. He quickly follows you, closing the distance between you in a few long strides. He enters the elevator with you, standing close. He watches you intently, his expression a mixture of annoyance and concern 

"Love, what's gotten into you? Why are you being so quiet like this?"

Watching you closely as the elevator ascends. The silence in the enclosed space feels deafening. He can't stand it, he needs you to talk to him 

"Come on, love. Say something. Don't keep giving me the silent treatment"

“Say I'm right”

He's caught off guard by your sudden demand 

"What? Of course you're right, love. You're always right"

“About this argument”

He doesn't want to admit it, but you're right and he knows it. 

"Fine, you're right about this argument. You're always goddamn right"

“say it like you mean it”

He looks at you, knowing that he has to concede defeat 

"You're right, love. You're always right. You have the high ground in this argument, and I know it. I was wrong"

“from your heart” you know you’re pushing it.

He sighs, knowing that he has to acknowledge your victory 

"Love, from the bottom of my heart, you're right. You've won this argument, fair and square. I was wrong, and I apologize"

“Apology not accepted” You decided to tease him, he ate your brain the whole ride.

He looks at you annoyed, not expecting you to reject his apology 

"What? Why not? What do you want from me, love? I just admitted that you were right!"

“You said I should not forgive you and keep boundaries right I'm doing just that”

His expression became conflicted again. He's caught in a stalemate, his own words coming back to haunt him 

"Damnit, love, you're really going to use my own words against me now? I was just trying to protect you, to set boundaries"

“ Exactly”

He feels trapped, knowing that he can't win this argument 

"Damnit, love, you're making this difficult. I can't win with you, can I? Even when I'm trying to protect you, you turn it against me"

“No not against you against your words”

Sighing in resignation as he realizes the irony of the situation 

"Love, you're really twisting everything I say, aren't you? I was only trying to protect you, to set boundaries. But now, you're using my own words to resist me"

"I'm not resisting you , you said to not care about me, don't love me blah blah blah" you unlock your penthouse.

He follows you into the penthouse, more frustrated and concerned, 

"Love, that's not what I meant, and you know it. I just don't want you to be so blindly loyal and devoted to me. You should have some standards and boundaries"

“ Exactly i've having boundaries right now”

"Love, you're being difficult. I never thought you'd use my own words against me like this. I'm just trying to protect you, to be the best husband possible"

“I'm always the one being difficult” he is just pissing you off now.

"Yes, love, you're always difficult, especially when it comes to protecting yourself. You're stubborn and loyal to a fault, and it drives me crazy"

“Yeah I'm at fault”

His tone is firm and serious,

"No, love, that's not what I mean. You're not at fault for being loyal and loving. It's one of the things I admire about you. But you need to have some boundaries, some limits, or you'll leave yourself completely open and vulnerable, and that worries me"

“I'm having right now but you're still behind me” you enter your bedroom after rooming your heels and jacket.

"Love, I'm not behind you because I'm trying to control you or smother you. I'm behind you because I worry about you. I want to protect you, to make sure you're safe and cared for"

“If you don't want me to be loyal then don't care about me at all” you said removing your shoes and jackets, walking in the bedroom. 

"Love, you know that's not possible. I can't just stop caring about you, no matter how hard I try. You're a part of me, and I can't just turn off my feelings like a switch"

“ Exactly gguk i can't stop being too loyal out of the sudden of just have boundaries out of the sudden”

"Love, you're right. I guess we're both stuck with each other's flaws, huh? You can't stop being too loyal, and I can't stop caring about you. I guess we're both doomed to drive each other crazy"

“Strip” you don’t want to run your mouth for baseless arguments anymore and get straight down to business.

He was surprised but amused at your command. He looks at you, a slight smirk forming on his lips, mission complete

"You want me to strip, love?"

“I won't repeat”

"Alright, love, you don't have to repeat yourself. Just know you're really testing my patience"

He starts to unbutton his shirt, watching you the entire time

“On the bed”

He finishes unbuttoning his shirt and drops it on the floor, revealing his toned chest. 

"Bed, huh? As you wish, love"

 He moves towards the bed, still watching you intently 

“Hand”

"Hand? You want my hand on the bed?" he says knowing well what you meant but he had to just make you more mad.

He places his hand on the bed, looking at you with a smirk 

“Give your hand to me,” you said calmly.

"Here you go, love. My hand is all yours"

“Both”

He extends both his hands towards you

"Both my hands, love. They're all yours"

You put the handcuffs on him.

He looks at you, a hint of a sly smile on his lips

"Handcuffs, love? You're really going all out tonight, aren't you?"

You locked that handcuff to another cuff and locked it to the headboard.

“As you wish, love. I'm all tied up and at your mercy now"

You get up and go into the closet, watching you as you disappear into the closet again. He's handcuffed to the headboard, his hands secured above his head, and he's curious about what you're up to in the closet.

"Love, what are you doing in there? Leaving me here all tied up and defenseless?"

His ears perked up at the sound of the shower turning on. He strains against the handcuffs, trying to get a glimpse of what you're up to.

"Love, are you taking a shower? Leaving me here all tied up while you're there rinsing off your perfect body without me?"

He kept blabbering, his words becoming a little more desperate and needy as the sound of the shower continued.

"Love, come on, this isn't fair. You can't leave me here all tied up while you're in there taking a nice, hot shower. I want to be in there with you, feeling the water on our skin together"

You come back with a full robe on and it touches your ankles.

His eyes widen as he sees you re-enter the bedroom. He watches you carefully, his expression a mix of anticipation and frustration as you approach him in a full robe 

"Love, you tease. You come back looking all innocent in that robe, knowing damn well what effect it has on me. It's torture"

You start to blow dry your damp hair ignoring him.

He becomes frustrated as he watches you blow dry your hair, completely ignoring him. His handcuffs rattle against the headboard as he tries to shift his position to get your attention.

"Love, you can't just ignore me like this. You're torturing me, you know that, don't you?"

Straining against the handcuffs, he says

"Love, stop ignoring me. You're driving me insane, and you know it. I'm handcuffed to the bed, completely defenseless, and you're just blow drying your hair like I'm not even here"

Watching you go back into the closet again. He's starting to feel more and more restless, his heart racing at the thought of what you might be getting

"What are you doing in there now, love? Coming up with more ways to torture me while I'm all tied up here?"

You bring back the dark black velvet box and he knows what's in it. his heart rate picking up at the sight of the velvet box. He knows exactly what's in it, and he can't help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation

"Love, you're bringing out the box. You're really going to use it now, aren't you?"

You took out some things like candles, blindfold, flogger, riding crop, and gag ball. Something which you’ve tried on him yet but you think it’s time.

He sees the assortment of items you've taken out of the box. His breath hitches in his throat as he tries to contain his anticipation

"Love, you're not holding back tonight, are you? You're bringing out all the toys, huh?"

His gaze shifts between the items you've retrieved and your smug expression. The handcuffs rattle against the headboard as he squirms in anticipation. 

"Love, you know exactly what you're doing to me right now. Teasing me with all those toys, keeping me tied up and at your mercy. You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

His voice became more strained and pleading.

"Love, please, don't keep me in suspense. Use those toys on me. I'm at your mercy, completely at your mercy. Just do what you want with me, please. I can't take this anticipation anymore

“You talk too much” you said but internally you’re cooing at his desperation for you. 

"I'm sorry, love. I just can't help it. I'm so eager, so needy. I want you so badly, and I can't keep my words in anymore. Please, just touch me, use the toys on me, do whatever you want. I'm all yours. Just please, don't keep me waiting any longer"

His body jerked slightly at the touch of the crop on his abdomen. His muscles tense, and his breath hitches in his throat. you caress the crop on his abdomen.

"Ah, love. You know how sensitive I am there. You're driving me crazy. Please, don't tease me like this"

You tie the blindfold on his eyes, not too tight. his breathing becomes heavier as you tie the blindfold around his eyes, restricting his sight. He's completely at your mercy now, completely trusting and submitting to you

"Love, I can't see a thing now. Do what you want with me. I'm all yours to use and control"

His body trembles faintly as he adjusts to the loss of vision. He's completely dependent on your touch and direction now

"Love, this is torture. Not being able to see you, to see what you're doing, what you're going to do to me. It's driving me insane. Please, do something. Touch me, speak to me, just something, please"

His body shivers once more as he feels the crop tracing a path from his abdomen to his thighs. His breaths come in shallow, ragged bursts as he tries to contain his excitement 

"Ah, love. Your touch, it's so light, so delicate. Yet, it's driving me insane. I want more, I need more. Please, don't stop"

His body shakes violently at the unexpected strike of the flogger. A muffled gasp escaped his lips as the pain registers, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. You’ve left a mark on him on the outer side of his left thigh.

"Ah, love. That was unexpected. You really know how to catch me off guard. Do it again, love. I want to feel more, I need more"

“Turn back” you command. 

 His body is still trembling from the last strike. His senses heightened and his body aching for more. 

"Love, you want me to turn my back to you? I don't mind. I'll do whatever you want"

“Butt up”  you’re not really in the mood to speak.

His cheeks flushed as he obeys your command. He turns around and gets on his hands and knees, presenting his butt to you.

His heart racing as he positions himself in the way you've ordered. The anticipation and excitement is building inside him. He feels completely exposed and submissive, just the way he likes it.  

Instead of the flogger he expected you're dripping candles on his cute butt. his skin burns slightly at the sensation of the hot wax drizzling on his sensitive skin. He gasps and hisses at the mixture of pain & pleasure.

He suddenly feels the flogger connecting with his skin, eliciting a louder gasp and a shudder from him. The combination of pleasure and pain is overwhelming, the sensations blending together in a heady mix that has him struggling to catch his breath.

The candle drips moving towards his back abandoning his butt, his body jerking slightly as the candle drizzles move and trails up his back. He arches his back involuntarily, his shoulders tensing with anticipation as he waits for the next sensation to come. The contrast between the burn of the wax and the pleasure of the flogger has him dizzy with need.

He doesn't notice but you're writing something with drips. His focus entirely on the sensations he's experiencing, completely immersed in the pleasure and pain. He doesn't notice the words you're writing on his back, lost in the moment and completely surrendering himself to your control.

You continue with the flogger, his body arching and twisting in response to the flogger. His breaths come in shallow, rapid gasps as he tries to process the sensations flooding his system. He doesn't know what's coming next, which makes it even more intense and enjoyable for him.

The crop is in front of his lips and he knows what to do, already knowing what you want him to do with the crop. Eager to please you, he opens his mouth submissively, his lips parting eagerly to accept the crop.

“You enjoy riling me up don't you pup?”

His voice coming out in a needy, submissive tone

"Yes, love. I do. I love riling you up, pushing your boundaries, testing your limits. It's a thrill for me, knowing that I can make you lose control. I want to please you, love. I want to be the one who makes you lose your mind with desire"

“hmmm you love being put in place right?”

"Yes, love. I love it when you put me in my place. I love it when you take control, when you make me submit to you. It's a turn on for me, knowing that I'm completely at your mercy"

"What do you want me to do?"

"Please, love. I want you to do whatever you want with me. I want to feel your touch, your control, your dominance. I want you to take me to the edge and beyond. I want to give myself to you completely, to surrender to your desires and wishes"

“okay count for me”

"Yes, love. I'll count for you. How many strokes do you want me to count?"

“How much you want to argue with me after I fill your stomach and buy you that cheap ice cream that you didn't even enjoy because you love running your mouth so much” you said in a dominant tone which caused him to gulp at your words. He knows he was out of line, and he's ready to accept his punishment

"I'm sorry, love. I shouldn't have argued with you after you filled my stomach and bought me that ice cream. I shouldn't have run my mouth so much. I think I deserve 20 strikes, love. Is that adequate enough for my disobedience?"

You don’t reply using words and directly strike.

He lets out a gasp of air, the breath leaving his lungs in a sharp exhale. He counts aloud, his voice shaky and breathless.

"One"

He braces himself for the next strike, his body tensing in anticipation. The sensation of the lash against his skin is intense, sending a wave of pain and pleasure through his body. He counts aloud again, his voice filled with both need and love. his voice coming out in ragged pants as he struggles to catch his breath. There are tears in his eyes, a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through him. His face is vulnerable and contrite.

The blindfold was soaked with sweat and tears. He can feel the cloth sticking to his skin, and it's hard to see through the moisture. But his body is aching for more.

“Turn back again”

He is still lost in the sensations and the pain. But he does as he's told, turning around and presenting his body to you once more. The stinging pain on his back serves as a reminder of his obedience and submission to you. He closes his eyes, his breaths coming in shallow,  gasps.

You lean down and licks his tears, his body shuddering at the sudden, intimate touch of your tongue on his tears. He lets out a soft gasp, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. you move south on his neck to continue your licks, his breath catching in his throat at your intimate gesture. The sensation of your tongue on his skin is both soothing and arousing, and he finds himself unable to move from you. He craves your touch, your attention, your presence, and he can't help but let out a soft, needy moan.

You roam your hand around his chest to calm him down, his body relaxing under the gentle touch of your hand roaming across his chest. The sensations are soothing and calming, and he leans into your touch, seeking more of the comfort and reassurance it provides. letting out a soft sigh of relief as his breathing gradually steadies.

But that calmness is gone the moment you put the gag in his mouth, His breathing quickens, his body tense with anticipation. Now silenced, he can only rely on you to guide him and give him what he needs.

You picked up the remote and turned the aircon to the coolest temperature. feeling the chill of the air conditioner hitting his skin. His muscles tense slightly, and he shivers involuntarily, his body craving some kind of warmth and comfort. He tries to relax as his body adjusts to the colder temperature.

You roam your hand around his abs, His body responds to your touch, his muscles tensing involuntarily as your fingers trail across his abdomen. He's completely vulnerable in his tied-up state, unable to do anything but receive your touch and react to it.

“My husband is the most perfect man to exist. Do you agree?”

Despite the restriction of the gag, he nods his head enthusiastically, making you soft.

“My husband doesn't have any flaws, agree?”

He's fully focused on communicating his unwavering acceptance and agreement to your words.

“Who is my husband?” You ask and removes his gag, the first thing that comes out of his mouth when you remove the gag is

“I'm your husband, love”

His voice is breathless and filled with a mixture of reassurance and obedience,

“Do you agree?”

His voice is firm and determined as he replies "Yes, love. I do. I wholeheartedly agree. I am yours, completely and utterly. Your husband, your partner, your submissive, your possession. I belong to you, love"

"Do you agree with all of the above?"

His voice now becomes more submissive and obedient as he repeats his agreement "Yes, love, I agree with all of the above. I am your most admirable man, your most perfect man, your husband without a single flaw. I agree to it all, with all my heart and soul, love"

You put the gag back in his mouth, silencing him once more, you smack the crop on his chest, exactly on his defined peck. you move the crop under his chin and lift his chin up with it "you're the best choice for me, do you agree?"

Forcing him to look up at you. Despite the gag, he manages to nod his head, his actions conveying his complete agreement to your question. He's fully submitted to you, willing to agree to anything you ask.

"I am always right, agree?"

a muffled “yes” coming from behind the gag. Despite the restriction of his words, there’s no denial or disagreement in his eyes. He fully submits to your assertion, silently agreeing with your words.

"Do you love me the most?"

Though unable to speak, his body language communicates his unreserved agreement. He nods vigorously, the love and devotion in his gaze evident and clear for you.

"You're in any situation in the world, you'd tell me and not hesitate?" He nods his agreement. Even in the most extreme or dangerous scenarios, he'd never hesitate to come to you and seek your comfort and guidance, no matter what.

You remove his blindfold for the last question but keep his gag in, he blinks, his eyes adjusting to the sudden influx of light. The blindfold is gone now, but the gag is still firmly in place, preventing him from speaking. His gaze is fixated on you, his eyes wide and full of expectancy as he waits for the last question

"you would let me be too in love, too loyal to you to the point I'll do anything for you, right?"

His body quivering under the weight of his submission and devotion. The gag makes it impossible for him to verbally express the depths of his feelings, but his eyes speak volumes. They convey his love, loyalty, and unconditional surrender to you, promising that he'd embrace and relish you of being "too in love" and "too loyal" with no reservations or limits. He accepts defeats and nods repeatedly.

You remove his gag and whisper "mine" before locking lips, kissing your husband in a nasty manner, there is drool, sweat, tears all over his face but you don't mind.

He melts into the kiss, completely submitting to your dominance. The taste of sweat, tears, and drool mingle with the sweetness of your lips, sending waves of passion and pleasure through his body. He gives himself completely to you, his love and devotion fully on display, as he pours every ounce of his being into the kiss. He's utterly and hopelessly yours

You kiss his forehead and get rid of the cuffs, his wrists aching slightly from the prolonged confinement. But the pain is nothing compared to the waves of pleasure and sensation coursing through his body as you kiss his forehead. He looks up at you, his gaze filled with gratitude and love, as he whispers.

"Thank you, love."

He gently rubs at his wrists, and still feels the lingering sensation of the leather against his skin. Despite the soreness, he feels a strange sense of comfort and satisfaction, knowing that he's given himself completely to you. a soft gasp escaping his lips as you take his wrist and gently kiss it. The ointment, coupled with your touch, sends a soothing feeling through his skin. He watches you lovingly as you apply the ointment, his heart swelling with affection and gratitude for your care and attention.

“Lay down on your stomach”

His body tensing slightly as you apply the ointment on his back and butt. The cool sensation of the ointment provides a soothing relief for his battered skin, and he lets out a soft sigh of contentment at your gentle touch.

Jungkook notices you wrote something on his back, He craned his neck slightly to try and see over his shoulder, but it was impossible for him to view the words himself.

"Love, what did you write on my back?"

You smirk at him, his eyes narrowing slightly as he notices your smirk. He knows that look all too well, and it usually means you're up to something. He raises an eyebrow, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation in his gaze

"You wrote something, didn't you? Come on, tell me. I'm curious now"

'Too Damn Loyal'

A mixture of surprise and amusement passes through his expression, and he lets out a soft chuckle as he repeats,

"Too damn loyal, huh?"

He can't help but laugh a little at the words. 

“Since you have a problem with me being too damn loyal , here is a reminder that I'm too damn loyal always”

A smile spreads across his face as he processes your words. He turns around, looking at you over his shoulder as he responds 

"I don't have a problem with you being too damn loyal, love. In fact, it's one of the things I love most about you."

 He lets out a soft laugh 

"But I can't deny that the reminder on my back is a nice touch."

You don't reply to anything busy with applying ointment. his expression softens as he gazes at you. His tone is adamant and earnest as he shakes his head

"No, love, I don't have a problem with it. I love your loyalty, your faithfulness, your commitment. It's endearing and admirable, and I wouldn't change it for anything."

“Kooks”

A fond grin spreads across his face as you call him by his nickname. It's a term of endearment that he loves hearing from you, and it never fails to make him feel special and loved 

"Yes, love?"

“I would jump off a cliff anytime just so you know, hehehe”

you giggle as you look at him being worried.

His smile fading immediately as your words sink in. A look of concern crosses his face, his eyes widening at your statement 

"Don't. Say. That."

His voice is firm and authoritative, laced with a hint of worry. The thought of you harming yourself, even for his sake, is absolutely unbearable for him. Even though he knows you're joking right now, that is still not acceptable for him.

You continue laughing behind his back.He can tell that you're being playful and slightly joking, but the thought of you endangering yourself for his sake is no laughing matter

"I'm serious, love. Don't even joke about it. I would never, ever want you to harm yourself, no matter the reason, do you understand?"

He was again getting serious so you decided to shut him up by pressing your lips on his, his initial stern expression faltering as you planted a kiss on his lips. He melts into the kiss, his body responding to your touch. But when you part, he pulls back slightly, staring at you with a serious look.

"Promise me, love. Promise me you won't say or do anything like that, even in jest. I need your word."

"The bath would be ready for you by now, get your ass in the tub" A mixture of surprise and amusement flitting across his face at your command. But he's also relieved that you're changing the subject, realizing you're not taking this seriously.

"Alright, alright. I'll get my ass in the tub."

“Yes your cute ass” His cheeks heated up slightly at your compliment. Despite himself, he can't help but be slightly flustered by your comment, and he can't suppress a small, bashful smile

"Are you implying that you're only sending me to the tub so you can admire my 'cute ass'?"

“And what if I am?”

A smirk forming on his face as he realizes that you're playing this game. He decides to play along, a hint of teasing entering his voice

"Are you that addicted to my 'cute ass' then, love? Can't keep your eyes off it, even in the bathroom?"

“Love it so much I would”

His smirk grows wider at your confession. He steps closer to you, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper

"Is that right? You love it so much, you'd even watch me in the tub, huh?"

“I always keep staring at it in public” you admit what you fantazise about him.

A look of mock surprise passed through his face. He leans in even closer, his body almost touching yours as he replies in a low voice

"Is that why you never complain about me wearing tight jeans, love? You like the view, don't you?"

"Love it", you sent him a flying kiss.

His grin widening at your admission. He reaches out and gently grabs your hips, pulling you closer to him, so that your bodies are pressed together.

"Well, I'm glad you appreciate my assets, love. I'll make sure to wear them more often for you, then" laughing softly as you drag him to the tub. He follows willingly, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his.

"Looks like we're having a bubble bath tonight, huh, love?"

“We no?, you need to get the wax off”

nodding in agreement. He steps into the bathtub, lowering himself into the water. The warm water envelops his skin, providing a soothing sensation. He leans back against the tub, eyes closed in relaxation.

"You're right, I need to get the wax off. Mind helping me with that, love?"

"sure bun" a soft smile spreading across his face as you agree to help. He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded in relaxed anticipation as he responds,

"Thank you, love. I appreciate your help. This wax stuff feels weird, but I trust you to take care of it."

"Sorry I didn't ask you before using it, it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry bun"

Shaking his head slightly, he replies

"It's okay, love. I know you didn't have bad intentions. And honestly, I don't mind trying new things with you. Just maybe give me a heads up next time, so I'm prepared, yeah?” he says, despising your worries.

"Sorry about this mess" you said scrubbing the wax off, he gives a slight shrug

"It's alright, love. Accidents happen, especially when we're trying new stuff. Don't worry too much about it. I'm more concerned about getting this wax off me, it's starting to feel uncomfortable"

"No I mean sorry about always being right, getting into fights because of it"

A small smile appears on his face. Though your stubbornness and insistence on being right can be frustrating at times, he also finds it endearing. He reaches out and takes your hand, gently squeezing it affectionately

"Ah, that. I admit, it can be a pain in the ass when we fight because of that. But you know I wouldn't change it, right? I love that fierce determination in you, even when you're insisting on being right. It's one of the things that makes you, well, you."

"No other man would tolerate me, only you gguk"

A soft chuckle escaping his lips. He gazes up at you, his expression filled with affection and love

“Exactly, no one else would be able to handle your stubborn, bossy, and feisty attitude. But I don't mind it, love. In fact, I sort of enjoy it, even though it drives me crazy sometimes."

“Sorry" you apologize knowing you are at fault as well.

"Don't apologize, love. Like I said, I don't mind it. Besides, it keeps things interesting, right? If you were always obedient and easy to handle, it would be so damn boring."

“I guess you're right”

"Of course I'm right. I'm always right" he teases you.

Once he is out of the tub you apply his favorite lotion, a content sigh leaves his lips as he feels the cool lotion against his skin. The relief of the wax being removed, coupled with the soothing touch of the lotion, is incredibly pleasant.

"Mmm, love, that feels so good right now. The lotion smells amazing too."

You again came back with the ointment which got washed up by the water, a slight wince escaping him as the ointment touches his raw skin. The area is still a little tender from before, but the cool ointment provides some relief.

"Ah, that stings a little bit. But I know it's necessary. I'll try to stay still as you apply it, love."

"Wear your clothes, I'm making the bed," you said, handing him the towel. Nodding his head in understanding he takes the towel from you

"Alright, love, I'll get dressed. You go ahead and take care of the bed. I'll be there in a moment." He quickly dried himself off and got dressed. Once he's done, he walks over to the bedroom, where he finds you making the bed.

Approaching you at the bed he watches silently for a moment, a small smile on his face as he observes you tidying up the blankets and pillows. Stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind. His chin comes to rest on your shoulder as he hugs you from behind, his chest pressed against your back.

"Everything looks nice and neat, love. You always manage to make our bed look so inviting."

Gently nuzzling his face against your neck, inhaling the sweet scent of your skin. The closeness and intimacy of the moment, coupled with the comfort of the made bed, brings a sense of peace and contentment to him

"I can't wait to crawl into bed with you, love. It's been a long day, and I could really use some cuddles with my favorite person."

"hmm only cuddles?"  a sly smile forming on his lips at your question. He knows what you're implying, but he feigns innocence, playing along with your game.

"Only cuddles? Yeah, just cuddles. Why did you have something else in mind, love?"

"No nothing bun, let's cuddle"

He laughs at your response. He knows you're being cheeky, but he decides to go along with it for now, knowing that cuddles are always a welcome comfort.

"Alright, love, just cuddles it is. I'd never say no to snuggling up with you in bed."

He pulls you closer, a content sigh escaping his lips as he buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent. his tattooed arm wrapped around you, holding you tightly against his chest. The warmth and comfort of your body against his feels like a soothing balm after a long day. He plants gentle kisses on your neck, trailing up to your ear as he whispers, his voice low and sultry.

"Mmm... I could stay like this forever, love. Just holding you in my arms, feeling your soft skin against mine."

The feeling of your body against him and the sound of your soft sighs in his ear stirring something deep within him. He can't resist the urge to kiss your neck again, his lips moving in slow, languid kisses along the nape of your neck

"You're so damn addictive, love. You know that? I can never get enough of your scent, your touch, your presence. It's like you're a drug, and I'm completely addicted to you."

You brush his fluffy silky locks helping him relax, the feeling of your touch combined with the relaxing effect after the bath has an almost instantaneous calming effect on him. He feels his eyelids grow heavy, a wave of drowsiness washing over him.

"Mmm, that feels so good, love. Your touch always makes me feel so relaxed."

His arms loosen slightly, his body becoming limp against you as he drifts off into dreamland. A content, peaceful expression settles on his face, his lips slightly parted as he sleeps soundly.

"love" softly mumbling in his sleep as you brush your hands through his luscious, fluffy hair. The gentle, rhythmic motions of your touch create a soothing lullaby for him, deepening his slumber. He nuzzles his face further into your shoulder, seeking comfort and warmth even in his sleep

"I love you to death bub" you confess, his sleeping figure unable to respond to your declaration of love. But perhaps, even in his dreams, he can sense your presence and the depth of your affection for him. The smile that plays at the corners of his lips may be a silent affirmation of his love for you in return.

His peaceful, sleeping form snuggled up against you looks even more adorable in the soft lighting of the room. The relaxed expression on his face, with his slightly parted lips and soft, even breaths, makes him look almost ethereal. His features, free from any tension or worry, showcase his true beauty and innocence, making him your perfect man.

[mrsstruggle]

All The Good Girls Go To Hell - Prologue // Harry Potter AU

Summary: It's been a year since the war ended. Cedric Diggory is found dead and in debt to The Damnation. His sister, Y/N Diggory, offers to take her brother's place in The Damnation to pay off his debt, but things become complicated when she starts to develop feelings for the two handsome leaders.

[OC version on Wattpad]

Pairings: Y/N x Fred Weasley, Y/N Diggory x George Weasley (separately, not together because I will not write that)

Series Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death/Injury/Grief/Torture, Possible Grammar Mistakes (please let me know if there is anything else), and A Lot of Smut!!

Words: 1.5K (this is short but chapters will be longer!)

Note: This is a Harry Potter AU. This is set after the war.

Another Note: Cedric was not killed during the Triwizard Tournament, but he was tortured at the cemetery.

[I had this queued for 7PM, but it didn't post :/]

Masterlist

All The Good Girls Go To Hell Masterlist

---

Standing outside the infamous joke shop Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Y/N Diggory never felt so out of place. She has a briefcase in one hand and the other nervously tugging at the end of her short, red dress in hopes that it would somehow get longer. She needs to go inside, but she can't find the willpower to get her legs to move.

Kids run past her, shouting and laughing, as their parents rush after them into the shop. There are more people out than she thought there would be. She chose to come as close to closing time as possible hoping there would only be a few people here. She wonders if it stays this crowded or if it's because the kids return to Hogwarts in a week.

"Are you actually going to go inside, or are you going to stand out here all day?" Y/N jumps slightly and quickly looks to her side to see where the voice is coming from. She locks eyes with a handsome redhead who is now standing to the left of her.

"I'm supposed to meet someone inside, but my legs seemed glued to the sidewalk for some reason." She nervously jokes.

The guy chuckles lowly. "Do I need to see if I can find something to get the glue off," he quickly retorts.

Y/N snorts out a laugh as she looks back down at the ground. She notices that he's wearing a thick, black pair of combat boots. As she looks back up at him, she observes that he doesn't look like the type of guy who would come to a joke shop. With his black tactical joggers paired with a plain black t-shirt, he seems out of place, but she knows he could say the same thing about her.

"Hopefully it will just wash away with my nerves," she brings the briefcase in front of her so she can grip the handle with both hands, "I don't know if you can tell but I've never been here before."

He glances down at her briefcase before shifting his gaze back up, "I wouldn't say it's too obvious, but you do look a bit overdressed. What's in the briefcase?"

"It's nothing," she chuckles nervously. "Would you believe me if I said I was trying to start a new trend?"

"Not at all but if you don't want to tell me you don't have to. My name's Charlie by the way."

"I'm Y/N."

"Well, I've got to get to work but it was nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too." Y/N watches as Charlie walks into the joke shop and disappears into the sea of children.

She takes a deep breath as she tries to remember what Hermione told her to do. She needs to go inside and get a Penelope's Purple Pussy Cats. Take it to the front counter and ask if it comes in red. She remembers that Hermione told her to specifically ask "Does this come in red?" and she can't ask any other way.

After standing in place for a few more seconds, Y/N finally wills her legs to move and opens the large entrance door. If she thought the sound of children screaming and laughing was loud from outside the shop, it was even louder inside. Kids were running around—going from stand to stand—checking out whatever caught their eye. You would think it was the shop's opening day, but it's been open for years.

Y/N moves to the side as a group of boys run past her towards the back of the store. She looks around hoping to see what she's looking for, but there are too many people in the store to see anything else other than people. Right now, she's cursing Hermione for not giving her instructions for where the hell to find a Penelope's Purple Pussy Cats.

She slowly weaves her way through the crowd as she searches for what she's looking for. She can feel her nerves get more and more on edge as people bump into the briefcase she's holding.

After walking around the store for another ten minutes, she finally spots what she needs. Tucked into a corner of the store, behind what appears to be love potions, she finds the Penelope's Purple Pussy Cats. Y/N grabs the box closest to her and makes her way to the checkout.

As she approaches the checkout, she silently thanks the universe for there not being a line. She quietly approaches the blonde girl standing at the checkout and sets the Penelope's Purple Pussy Cats on the table, "Um...does this come in red?"

Y/N's heart starts to race as the girl stares at her silently. Did she say the wrong thing? Is this one big prank to make her look like an idiot?

The girl, Verity (according to her name tag), entered something in the cash register before turning back to her, "Three Galleons."

Y/N quickly dugs into the purse that is hanging from her left shoulder. She slams three Galleons onto the counter, wincing at how harshly she set them down.

Verity slowly scoops up the Galleons and puts them into the register. She closes the register as her other hand dings a bell right next to it. The ding rings loudly throughout the store.

Y/N's hands tap nervously on the briefcase's handle as she waits for something to happen. Hermione told her that someone would come and take her to where she needed to go, but is she supposed to stand here and wait or is she supposed to step aside somewhere?

"Bill will take you to find what you need," Verity says as a tall redhead—who, other than the large scars across his face, looks like the one she met earlier—emerges from the sea of people around the store. He stops when he's next to Y/N.

"Follow me," he says gruffly. He turns and starts walking toward the back of the store. Y/N tries to follow as closely as she can so she doesn't lose him amongst the crowd.

As they reach the back of the store, Bill opens a door with a sign that says 'EMPLOYEES ONLY' and gestures for her to follow him inside. Walking inside what appears to be a large storage closet, she watches as he easily moves a large shipping crate labeled 'FRAGILE' to reveal a trapdoor on the floor.

As he opens the trapdoor, Y/N can hear loud music and see flashing lights coming from the now-open hole in the floor. Looking a little closer, she can see an enclosed stone staircase that seems to spiral down into somewhere unknown. She looks up to see Bill looking at her expectantly—like she was supposed to just be okay with walking down into an unknown place underneath a joke shop.

"Are you going to go in?" Bill asks her.

"Yeah, obviously..." she looks back and forth from him to the staircase nervously, "Are Fred and George down there? If so, how do I find them?"

Bill's face somehow turns more serious than it was before, "What do you need with Fred and George?" He glances down at the briefcase in her hand before looking back at her face.

"I need to speak with them," she replies, straightening her posture a little to look more confident.

"About what?"

"That's none of your business."

Bill sighs, "Look, I don't know what you want from them, but they don't like to mix business with pleasure. If you need to speak to them about business, you'll need to make an appointment with Verity. If need to speak with them about something else," he looks her up and down, "you should be able to find them quite easily. Just don't come back crying when they don't see you again."

Y/N scoffs in disgust, "I'm here to talk business, and I won't be making an appointment. It's important."

"If it's so important, why can't you tell me?"

"Why would I tell you?"

"I'm their brother, and I'm the one holding this door open for you. I can easily close it if I'd like."

Y/N sighs as she contemplates what to do. Does she tell him why she's here? Does she turn around and come back another time? She doesn't know how many people know about her brother's involvement with the twins or about what he did.

"I need to talk to them about Cedric Diggory," she says, trying to look as serious as possible. Y/N notices Bill's jaw clench in anger when she says Cedric's name.

"What about Cedric?"

"I'm here to pay off his debt."

Bill scoffs, "What? He decides not to show up today and sends some girl in to pay off his debt for him. It's going to take a lot more than whatever's in that briefcase to make up for what he did."

"Well considering he's never going to show back up again, this is the best they're going to get." Y/N shrugs.

"What does that mean?"

"He's dead. Cedric's dead."

---

@xxemmarldxx @esposadomd @ladyjenjay

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗠𝗘 | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟮

　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x fem!oc (Elena)

SUMMARY: When Elena leaves after Matt confesses his feelings, will he try again to win the girl?

WARNING: A little angst and mentions of a break up.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 1

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Elena closed her eyes as a sigh escaped her lips, her arms resting on the armrest of the uncomfortable plane seat. Her back was tense as her mind ran through everything she would do and say upon landing in New York. Her eyes opened momentarily, focusing on the small window on her left side, watching the clouds around her.

༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt repeatedly banged his fist on the front door of Elena's grandparents' house, impatiently waiting while his brothers stood behind him, trying to keep him calm.

"You'll end up breaking down the door like that." Nick commented, tapping his right foot anxiously against the floor, also yearning for the resolution of the massive problem created by "simple" feelings.

"Shut up." Matt replied gruffly, straightening up in seconds as the sound of keys against the inside door lock sounded.

The door was finally opened and Elena's grandmother stood behind her, a dish towel over her right shoulder as a confused expression took over her face.

"Matt? Boys? Did something happen?" She asked, her eyes traveling over the boys.

"Hi grandma, is Lena here? I really need to talk to her." Matt asked, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt anxiously.

His heart seemed to freeze when a look of realization took over the older woman's eyes and she shook her head.

"Elena's already left, Matt. I'm sorry."

"She left? Like, is she on her way to New York right now?" The brunette asked, his eyes burning with tears that wanted to fall as his heart sank.

"Yes, my dear, she left almost an hour ago. Didn't she say goodbye to you?" The older one asked, looking at Nick and Chris briefly.

"No grandma, I don't know-" Nick started, but was cut off by Matt turning abruptly and running back to the sidewalk, heading to his parents' car in quick steps, his fingers searching for the control to quickly unlock the doors. "Matt!"

"I need to go after her. Is anyone coming with me?" Matt spoke loudly, finally unlocking the car and getting into the driver's seat.

His brothers looked at Elena's grandmother with an apologetic look before running towards the car, quickly getting in when Matt hit the horn, speeding them up.

Chris had barely closed the passenger seat door when Matt took off with the car, stepping on the accelerator and making sharp turns like he'd never done before, his eyes glued to the street in front of him paying maximum attention to where he was going and focused on getting to the airport in half the time the GPS showed.

"If you continue like this we're going to get there dead!" Nick screamed from the back seat, his hands gripping the back of the front seats as if his life depended on it.

Matt ignored him, stepping on the gas harder.

It didn't take long and the car finally stopped in front of the first main entrance to the airport, Matt turned the key, turning off the car and ripping off his seat belt, jumping out of the car and closing the door, starting to run into the airport.

"I've never seen him like that." Chris commented, taking off his own seat belt as he tried to calm his racing heart from the speed Matt made the car go.

"He's been madly in love with Elena for years Chris, I'm not surprised he's going crazy about it all." Nick replied, getting out of the car and waiting for Chris to close the passenger door, before they started walking towards the airport at a quick pace.

The two stopped after crossing the entrance, looking for their brother with their eyes and finding him in front of the ticket counter of the airline that flew from Boston to New York, looking at each other in confusion before walking towards Matt.

"Please, I just need a ticket for the nearest flight to New York." Matt asked in an almost desperate tone, his hands resting on the counter as he looked at the attendant.

"Calm down sir, I'm checking available times." The woman asked in a harsh tone, her hands working on the mouse and keyboard of the computer in front of her.

Nick, upon hearing his brother's request and the attendant's response, placed his hands firmly on Matt's shoulders, trying to calm him down before the woman called security.

"What the hell are you doing?" Chris asked, stopping next to the brunette with a surprised look.

"I'm going to New York." He responded quickly without looking away from the attendant, as if if he did so, she would disappear.

"Matt, are you crazy? Why-" Chris stopped mid-sentence at the pointed look Nick gave him, raising his arms in surrender. "Do what you think is best." He sighed, crossing his arms and turning his back to Matt, his eyes scanning the people hurriedly walking through the airport.

"I have a ticket available for the chair next to the emergency exit in 10 minutes, sir." The attendant looked up.

"You can select it for me." Matt asked quickly, taking out his wallet and handing over his identity documents and credit card, ready to pay for the ticket regardless of the amount.

A few minutes later the purchase was complete and Matt turned around, sighing heavily and looking briefly at his brothers before shrugging.

"It's my last chance, I need to take a chance and see what happens." He muttered in a low voice, earning looks of pity from his brothers.

"It's okay Matt, we understand." Nick spoke, quickly stroking his shoulder with his right hand.

"Let's get to the right gate before you miss your flight." Chris spoke, taking Matt's left arm and pulling him, starting to walk towards the gate informed by the attendant.

"Do you have your charger with you? Because you'll only go with your phone and wallet, right?" Nick asked a few seconds later, breaking the silence.

"Yes, I'll leave the car keys with Chris since he knows how to drive better and you can go home. Mom knows what I wanted to do if Elena wasn't here anymore, so there's no need to explain anything to her." Matt replied, keeping his eyes in front of him.

"Alright, if anything happens you can call us and we'll come to you as quickly as possible." Chris replied, taking the keys that Matt was holding tightly, putting them in his pocket and stopping walking when the three stopped in front of the respective gates.

Matt looked up and glanced at his brothers briefly, who offered him encouraging smiles.

"Go get your girl, Matt." Nick spoke with a smile on his face, making Matt let out a laugh, adrenaline coursing through his veins. Chris followed his laughter, slapping his shoulder with his right hand momentarily.

"It'll go alright." He encouraged, pushing Matt back slightly. The boy nodded and turned around, walking quickly towards the boarding counter when the flight announcement was made on the speaker.

Matt spent the flight looking at the back of the seat in front of him, with no window next to him and no head to watch anything on the mini television in front of him. His body was tense and his legs were swinging anxiously, time seemed to pass slower than ever.

Finally, an hour and a half later, the male voice on the loudspeaker announced that the landing would happen soon. Matt straightened up on the seat and picked up his phone, sending a quick text to his group with his brothers, notifying them of his arrival, knowing that it would be sent as soon as the internet signal reached his phone again, putting the device in his pocket again.

Matt sighed in relief when the flight was over, taking off his seatbelt and quickly crossing the plane's aisle, apologizing for the people he was bumping into along the way.

When the boy finally entered the airport again, his blue eyes traveled over the crowd of people there, now what?

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Elena stood outside the apartment she'd lived in for the past few years in New York, her face wet with tears of relief or tension, she couldn't exactly tell the difference. Her back was against the closed door behind her, listening to Jeremy pacing back and forth inside the apartment while her hands tightly gripped the handles of two of the three suitcases she had packed.

Jeremy didn't take the news of the breakup very well, it was everything he least expected and his emotional dependence on Elena seemed to swallow him momentarily during the conversation, turning it into an argument. He cursed the girl and her grandparents and hometown, judging her for returning there, as if if she hadn't done so, it would never have happened.

The "conversation" took about 40 minutes and was a complete rollercoaster, but in the end it was agreed that the engagement would actually be ended and that both would go their own way, as Jeremy didn't want to "ever look Elena in the face again", his words. Elena took another 30 minutes to pack her bags, picking up her main belongings and promising to pick up the rest over the next few days.

The apartment, which was purchased by the two together, would be sold and the value divided between the two.

The girl tried to control her breathing while her mind was in turmoil, she felt relief for having put an end on something she didn't want to, but she felt enormous guilt for hurting Jeremy.

She took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears that escaped her eyes, picking up her suitcase one at a time and taking them to the elevator. After a lot of effort, the girl managed to take all three suitcases to the building's garage and put them in the trunk of her car, closing the back door and getting into the driver's seat.

Her hands held the steering wheel for a few minutes while she thought about what she would do now.

The decision was made to go to her favorite coffee shop, which was also a bookstore, and have a coffee alone while thinking about her next steps, her mind divided between renting an apartment momentarily or returning to her parents' house until she finished college.

She knew that a normal person at that moment would probably seek refuge with someone trustworthy and that they could take shelter, but she had no one there, her parents were working and would only return home at night, and she no longer had a spare key, having left it behind with her parents when she moved away.

The girl started the car, wiping her face with her hands and thanking herself for choosing not to wear makeup that day, momentarily glancing at her appearance in the rearview mirror.

After a few minutes the car finally stopped in front of the bookstore, Elena took a deep breath before getting out of the vehicle, closing the door and locking it, before walking to the cafe.

The sound of the bell echoed through the small space and the smell of coffee and book pages hit the girl's nose, calming her instantly. She walked to the furthest table, sitting on the wooden chair and momentarily looking at the chair in front of her, wishing that a certain someone was there with her.

The sound of footsteps caught her attention and Elena raised her face, smiling small at the attendant before ordering just a coffee, thanking the waitress before looking down at the table again.

The girl felt her phone vibrate in her sweatshirt pocket, her right hand fishing for the device and analyzing the screen.

"Matt?" Elena answered the call, putting the phone to her ear, her eyebrows furrowed as she heard the rapid breathing on the other end and the sounds of horns and cars in the background.

"Elena, where are you? I went to your apartment and the doorman said you had just left." The boy spoke quickly on the other side, his breathless voice sounding like he had been running for long minutes.

"Wait, you're in New York? Matt, what's going on?" The girl asked, her eyes traveling around the cafeteria space as if she expected him to appear there out of nowhere.

"Elena, please." He pleaded with his voice, and Elena sighed, closing her eyes momentarily.

"Book Cafe." The girl replied, her free hand playing with the menu anxiously, her mind wondering if this was some kind of prank.

The line went dead and Elena took the phone away from her ear with a confused expression, scoffing when she saw that Matt hung up, her hands were working on opening the messaging app and entering the chat with the boy, starting to write a text, but her attention was taken by the sound of the bell echoing through the space again.

Elena looked toward the door, her cell slipping out of her hands and landing on the wooden table as her eyes met those blue ones she loved so much.

Matt seemed to freeze in the doorway, his feet locked to the floor as his eyes looked back at Elena, noting her tired and tense state.

"Matt." Elena called, getting up from her chair slowly, turning to face him, choosing to wait for him to catch up when she saw him start to move.

"Elena." He responded, quickly approaching her and standing in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" She asked exasperatedly, running her eyes over the boy's condition, his messy hair and rumpled clothes, probably from the flight and how much he seemed to have ran around the city.

"I know you asked me not to come after you, but I don't like being contradicted. I needed to try Lena, just one more time." Matt spoke, his eyes showing all the emotions he felt at that moment, anguish, love, fear and tension.

"Oh Matt." The girl sighed, pulling him into a tight hug, her eyes burning with the tears that had already fallen and that wanted to fall again as her chest filled with love and gratitude.

"I'll always come to you, Lena." He murmured against the top of the girl's head. "Come on, let's sit down." Matt asked in a low tone, helping her sit in the chair she was previously in, before dragging the other chair to the side of the table, sitting next to Elena. "I know you have Jeremy and that you are going to get married, but I love you so much and at the amusement park everything was so much, I needed to look at you just one more time, really look into your eyes and tell you how much I love you and I want you in my life forever." Matt whispered, feeling more words wanting to leave his lips, but holding them back, he didn't want to act on the emotion more than he already did.

"I broke up with Jeremy, Matt." Elena said, looking at him with a firm look, smiling small when she saw the surprise flash through the brunette's eyes. "I ended my engagement with him because he wasn't you." She spoke, feeling her heart warm as an expression of pure shock and love took over Matt's face, his blue-eyed pupil instantly dilating and a smile stretching across his cheeks, his right hand reaching out and taking her left hand, interlacing their fingers.

"Elena, be mine. I've loved you since before I understood the meaning of love, in the most anxious and calm way I've ever loved. I want you with me for who you are and who you make me want to be." Matt whispered the words of love and declaration, creating an intimate atmosphere around them.

"I've been yours for a long time, Matt." Elena responded with a wide smile, leaning to the right and getting closer to Matt, calmly approaching the brunette's face and finally pressing her lips against his, initiating a calm kiss with just the movement of lips, with no tongue involved, the desire of both being just to enjoy each other's warmth.

After a few seconds Elena slowly pulled away, a happy sigh escaping her lips before her eyes opened carefully, the fear to open them and find out that everything was just a dream coursing through her veins, but Matt's hands against her face and his warm breath close to her lips was too real to be a lie.

"I ordered a coffee, have something with me." The girl asked with a smile, her hand lightly squeezing Matt's who still held hers.

The bubble around the two seemed to burst when the sound of footsteps and the smell of coffee approached, the attendant placing the cup of coffee ordered by the girl on the table and taking out her notepad, turning to Matt.

"Can I get you something, sir?"

"Yes, please."

me while writing this:

[autistook]

DAISIES - pt 1

Merry Brandybuck x fem!hobbit!reader/soft oc

Words: 3.1k

Summary: You have been best friends with Merry (and Pippin) for several years. You see each other on almost a daily basis and have been referred to as the unseperable trio, as you do almost everything together, and have all been there for each other, through thick and thin. Slowly, you start to feel something shift. Something feels different when you look at Merry.

SLOOOOOOOW burning romance, pre - the Fellowship of the Ring.

Possible TW's: panic attack, anxiety, mentions of drowning and death, dead parents

English is not my first language, and this is the first fanfiction I have written since I was 10 years old, so I apologize for any errors or confusion. 😭 Treat me gently, I am sensitive to critisism lol

-

The sun glistened on the leaves, making the raindrops that fell on them the night before look like diamonds. The grass was damp under your feet, and the slight breeze felt comfortable on your skin. The sounds of the Shire were as usual: lots of Hobbits doing their regular chores, children running around and a few groans here and there, when the sleepiest of all were forced to get up early. Your gaze followed a beautiful bird flying from one tree to another. The bird was a beautiful one, with a bright-red chest and a grey back, the feathers on the wings being different shades of grey and black. It's melodic singing as it sat on the old willow branch, is always a reminder for the Shire folk that spring has arrived. There was a fresh lavender smell in the air, and as you stopped on your feet to enjoy it, you noticed another familiar scent.

Your gaze moved to a pastry shop window, and as you started walking towards it, you could see your best friends enjoying a couple of scones, filled with strawberry jam. Your lips curved into a smile as you opened the wooden door, and the bell above it rang to announce your arrival.

The friendly Hobbit lady behind the dusty, old counter greeted you gleefully. Her hair was grey, curls all the way down to her shoulders, and the smile lines nearing the corners of her eyes revealed just how happy of a personality she must have. But your eyes weren't focused on her, but to the two young Hobbits now noticing your entry. Pippin's green eyes sparkled with joy as he noticed you enter the room. More happy than Pippin to see you, was Merry. You had been best friends with the two for a number of years, and almost every week, the three of you would sit at the bakery, planning some mischevous pranks and talking about any new happenings around the Shire.

"We were wondering where you were!" Pippin exclaimed, mouth full of the delicious scone, and some red jam from it that had decided to settle on his lips. Amused at the sight, you smirked but still decided to not say anything, as usual. It would be funnier to see how long it would take him to notice his messy appearence.

"Sorry, I had other things in mind," you said in serious tone, pulling up a chair and sitting between the two. The round table was full of crumbs and there were two empty plates. You looked at the plates and then at your dearest friends, raising one brow as if to question how on earth they could have this ritual without you.

"We got hungry, I'm sorry!" Merry said, wiping his palms on his cream colored cotton shirt.

"How dare you!" you answered with a playfully offended tone. You turned to look at Pippin for an apology, but the young Hobbit just shrugged his shoulders, and kept munching the last piece of scone in his mouth. You shook your head and chuckled slightly, leaning back on your chair.

"What did you mean when you said you had other things in mind?" asked Merry, curiously, now wiping his mouth with a napkin. You took a deep breath and crossed your arms.

"It's been twenty years," you stated, as if Pippin and Merry were supposed to immediately understand the rest of that sentence. The two locked eyes. Their faces could only be described as curious, but utterly confused.

"Twenty years since what?" Merry inquired. His blue eyes looking straight into yours, his gaze making you feel like he was almost concerned.

"Since my parents died," you sighed. Pippin immediately turned to look at Merry, flustered as the two completely forgot about this tragic event in their best friend's life.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Merry apologized, his tone full of shame. "I completely forgot that was today."

"It's quite alright. You couldn't have known," you said with a faint smile. Your head might have told you to act fine, but the sadness behind your eyes revealed your true feelings: how tragically heartbroken you felt at that moment and how twenty years still wasn't enough of healing.

"But we should've remembered!" Merry cried in guilt. Pippin apologized, mouth full of scone, then finally swallowing the last piece. You reassured both of them that they did not offend you in any way, and that you would be fine.

"Is there anything we can do?" Merry asked, like he was in a rush to cheer you up.

"Yes! We could do something fun!" Pippin said cheerfully, his eyes sparkling with excitement. He slammed his hands on the table, making the empty plates clink against each other. "How about we go for a swim?"

"You know I can't swim, Peregrin!" you cried, arms still crossed, your fingers fidgeting with the soft fabric of the sleeves on your favorite yellow dress.

"Didn't you say you have had practice?" Pippin asked, puzzled.

"It doesn't mean I can."

"Well, we could always just go just hang around the water, you know?" Merry suggested, trying to not make your mood any worse. "We used to do that all the time when we were just little innocent Hobbits." You smiled at him with gratitude. Merry's lips curved upwards and his eyes had a glimmer of pride in them.

"That actually sounds great," you finally responded to him. "When should we go?"

"How about immediately?" said the young Took suddenly, and before either of you could answer, he was already up from his chair, quickly whisking away the empty plates from the table.

"I guess we're going?" you chuckled. You and Merry got up and before you could make a leave, he put his palm on your shoulder. His warm touch gave you a sense of comfort.

"But seriously, are you okay?" he asked, looking at you from under his brows, his eyes full of concern. You nodded and gave him a soft smile.

On your way to the river, the sun was rising higher in the sky, warming your skin. The spring breeze had settled, the lavender scent no longer lingering in the air.

"I can't believe you still can't swim," Pippin said, shaking his head. You groaned in frustration as a response. "You should know at this point!" he teased, skipping ahead of you and Merry. You shook your head. Still fidgeting with the fabric of your dress, Merry took notice of it.

"Can I help your anxiety in any way?" Merry said suddenly.

"How do you know I'm feeling anxious?" you asked, looking at him full of confusion. Merry smiled softly and compassionately.

"You always fidget something with your fingers when you feel anxious," he responded and gestured towards your sleeve, where the tips of your fingers now suddenly had stopped rubbing the dress, like they almost felt shy for being caught. You blinked slowly, moving your eyes to look at your delicate hands.

"I never realized that it was noticeable," you mumbled, slightly embarrassed. You were aware of it, but did not know it was a telltale sign of anxiety for others.

"We've been friends for years," he said, as the three of you kept walking towards the water on a gravel path, Pippin just slightly ahead of the two of you. "Of course I notice things like this."

You smiled at him, impressed by this small detail that he had noticed. Pippin was still slightly ahead of you two, every now and then stopping to gesture for you two to move faster. "That's kind of endearing, actually," you smiled and Merry let out a small snicker, turning his face to the ground.

"You actually have a lot of tells for how you're feeling," he said in a confident and knowing tone. This made you plead for him to tell you what he had noticed. "I'm not going to tell you what they are!" Merry smirked visibly amused. "Where's the fun in that?"

"If I have a tell, I will have you tell me what it is!" you said in a commanding tone, horrified of this revelation.

"I think not!" Merry exclaimed, his tone mischevous. "You just have to wonder about it for the rest of your life!" he laughed, and then in a mocking, high pitched voice, imitating you, he said: "Oh no! How did Meriadoc know I was exceptionally happy today? How did he notice I was nervous? Whatever will I do? How will I ever figure it out?"

"You jerk!" you laughed, elbowing his side gently, making him stumble a little to the left. It made him want to continue teasing you, still mocking you.

"Oh, how will I ever know? Merry is such a master at reading people!" he continued, making you crack up a little. You gave him a gentle push. You then suddenly bumped into Pippin, who was standing there, waiting for you.

"What took you so long?" Pippin asked.

"You were practically running!" Merry responded, still a wide smile on his face from teasing you. He gestured towards you and smirked. "And as I can tell from her expression, her old age has caught up to her, and her body gave up, forcing us both to slow down."

"Excuse me?" you said as your jaw dropped. "I am younger than you, Merry! I will have you know, if someone has any problems with their old age, it's you, Mister Brandybuck! Now, you old prune, what are my tells? Tell me!"

"My dear friend," Merry said, putting his hands on your shoulder. "I absolutely will not tell you."

"What are you two on about?" Pippin asked confused. Merry just chuckled, and gestured you both to follow him to a shallow part of the river, so you could safely sit with them without going too deep. You scrunched your nose at Merry, and walked behind him and Pippin to the water.

You had sat on a large rock, smoothed down by the flowing water, making it sparkle under the rays of sunshine. Every now and then some water ran over the rock, drenching your dress from the parts that were laid on the almost black stone. Twenty minutes had passed, and Merry gestured you to come closer to the slightly deeper water. You shook your head, fidgeting the sleeve of your dress anxiously. The water had finally washed away the jam from Pippin's lips as he kept plunging into the water, diving for what seemed like a forever. Pippin's head ascended from the cool water and he shook his head like a wet dog, trying to dry his curls.

"Come on, it's just waist deep!" Pippin tried to pursuade you. You just shook your head again. Pippin locked his eyes with Merry's. They both nodded in unison, turning to look at you again. "I bet you a small pouch of Southern Star that you don't have the courage."

Your ears perked up at the mention of pipe-weed. It was a delicious offer, but just the thought of going in any deeper made your heart pound faster. Pippin and Merry also knew just how to press your buttons right; they knew how competetive you were. "How much are we talking?" you inquired, your ears doing one small wiggle as your body started to show signs of peaked interest. This made Pippin and Merry chuckle.

"Does it matter? You don't have the guts!" Merry cried with a wide grin on his face. This made your fingers stop fidgeting the dress, and instead your fingertips squeezed the fabric tightly. You stood up, careful not to slip on the wet rock, and tipped your toes in the water, moving them on the surface lightly. You gave a challenging look to both mischevous hobbits, and hopped in the water, ankle deep. You took one deep breath, inhaling the warm air to help calm you down. One step after another, you slowly waded towards Merry and Pippin, who looked rather amused and impressed. The water rose as you waded in deeper and as the cold water touched your hips, you froze still.

It felt like the world stopped for a moment, and the surrounding noises of the river flowing suddenly sounded like an ominous threat coming closer and closer, about to swallow you whole. The bottom of the river was muddy and it felt like you would slowly sink, inch by inch, until you would be under water, unable to escape. The water felt like it tried to push you down, make you stumble and fall. It would laugh at your struggles to try and stay on the surface, making you regret ever taking even one step towards your best friends. How foolish of you to take up on a challenge, knowing the water was your enemy, who would smother you the first chance it got.

Suddenly you felt Merry's hand on your arm, shaking you softly. All you could hear was mumbling. Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurry, as you tried with all of your strength to not collapse from fear of facing the same destiny as your parents. Your feet lifted from the mud as Merry and Pippin lifted you by your armpits and waist to get you off to the dry land immediately, taking notice of your looming anxiety and inability to move even an inch.

What felt like forever, you soon got back to dry land and your hands gripped to the grass like it was the only thing that would keep you from falling into the flowing river. Your vision still blurry, you could distinguish the familiar voices of Merry and Pippin, but not one word was coherent. The grass felt safe and warm, pieces of dirt clinging to your wet palms and feet. You were starting to shake a little, still not able to move.

Soon you felt a warm palm on your cheek, turning your gaze to the direction of it's owner. Merry caught your attention enough to lock your eyes on his. His blue eyes felt comforting as they looked at you with compassion and care. You could see his lips moving, but not one word made sense to you. He gently brushed your cheek with his thumb, looking guilty from pressuring you.

"You're okay," you could finally decipher some of his words. Your brain felt fuzzy, and your lips were quivering with fear and anxiety. "You're safe, just breathe."

You took a deep breath, slow and steady, trying to push away the panic attack that was taking over your body. You followed Merry's guidance as much as you could make sense of it, slowly starting to feel more air in your lungs. The grass started to feel like grass again, instead of an anchor you had to hold on to, unless you wanted to drown. You felt Pippin's palm gently rubbing your back, as Merry was still caressing your cheek, guiding your every breath. You could slowly focus more, but you kept your gaze on his blue eyes, scared that if you turned your face away, the water would somehow jump on you and try to pull you back. It took you several minutes, but finally the two managed to calm you down. Your body still trembling lightly, you took one more deep breath.

"Well that was embarrassing," you jested, trying to lighten the mood immediately. Merry chuckled with relief and shook his head, lowering his hand to your shoulder from your face. Pippin didn't laugh, but instead made his way in front of your face next to Merry.

"Are you okay?" he asked nervously, clearly feeling some guilt for the second time that day. You nodded, looking at him reassuringly. Pippin's lips curled into a small smile. "Good, I thought you might feel embarrassed." You laughed loudly, voice slightly shaky.

They both got up on their feet, clothes drenched and every curl on their head dripping with water. You slowly got up, taking some support from the two hobbits and straightening your back. After a small discussion, you all agreed it was time to go home and calm down a little. Pippin did promise you that he would still give you some pipe-weed as a 'consolation prize.'

You made your way home alone for most of the journey, as Merry headed towards his home in Buckland and Pippin made his way to, in his own words, 'somewhere secret.'

The green round door of Bag End was there waiting for you, immediately providing you comfort at the sight. You entered your home and called your brother by his name. He was not your brother by blood, but being adopted to the same household and growing up together most of your lives made him as much of a brother as someone who was a blood relative would.

"Hello?" you shouted, the hallway echoing, seeming empty. You took just a few steps before Frodo's head popped up from behind a wall. He gave you a soft smile and let you know there was tea at the ready in the kitchen. Frodo had made it for himself, but so much of it was left that he decided to just let it sit there, knowing how much you liked his chamomille tea.

You made your way into the kitchen and poured some still warm tea into a small cup you inherited from your parents. It was decorated with yellow flowers and had been hand painted by your great-grandmother. You stirred it calmly, looking out of the round window, admiring the green grass and the butterflies flying around, enjoying the spring as much as any being would. The small silver spoon your uncle Bilbo had given you as a birthday present (that Lobelia Sackville-Baggins kept trying to steal) was softly moving in circles, creating music-like sounds when it hit the porcelain on the edges. Your dress had mostly dried up on your way home, but it was still slightly moist, making you do a small squirm as the slightly wet fabric of it kept clinging to your thigh.

With the tea in your hand, you started making your way to your room, but something stopped you in your tracks. As you passed a small round mirror, you noticed something behind your ear that was not supposed to be there. A small daisy was decorating your frame on the left side of your face. You touched the soft flower lightly. Merry had put it there while calming you down. A small chuckle escaped your throat. He really knew how to cheer you up, even if it took some time to notice the gesture.

Next chapter

[seenoversundown]

Allure : Part Two

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut !! (IT'S SO SEXY GUYS) Oral (M & F receiving) Penetrative Sex (it is unprotected but wrap it up- do as I say, not as they do!) VERY Suggestive Language, Possibly not the safest of sexy activities 👀(this is fiction-don't try things at home okay?) some cute as hell aftercare and per usual, some silly little jokes.

Word Count: 3k

Summary: As they're on their way home from the lake, Jake is a little too eager about the days events. So, they make a familiar pit stop to get some energy out.

Author's Note: PART TWO IS HERE AND BOY IS SHE FIIIIIIINE 🤭 Not going to lie, I was making myself blush writing this one! They just match each other's freak a little too well or whatever that saying is. Happy Tuesday 😮‍💨😉

It Will Come Back - Hozier "Don't let me in with no intention to keep me, Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me, Honey, don't feed me, I will come back."

After being the last ones to leave— as you can imagine, he had to make sure no one forgot anything, so we started the trip home. 

We spent most of the day staring longingly at each other from a distance, and we both had a tough time once we got to be together, which is why I’m now suffering in the passenger's seat, just watching him as he drives. 

His little sunburnt cheeks, paired with the sunglasses perched on his nose, only loosely distract me from his completely unbuttoned shirt. A thing I’ve loved since I met him is the fact he always has his chest exposed. I can always see it to some degree, and the necklaces that always sit there to compliment it.  I see the goosebumps on his skin from the air conditioning. The way he drives with only his left hand so the right can stay on my thigh, gently squeezing and rubbing, which I know he’s doing mindlessly, but it’s making any thought I have foul. 

I found myself glancing down at his legs, hard to avoid the fact of how incredibly short the shorts were when he was sitting down, leaving almost no room for imagination. It reminded me how lucky I am that I don’t have to imagine what’s underneath. I’ll thank my lucky stars for that. 

“Are your parents at the lake house by any chance?” He asks, bringing me back to earth. 

“I don’t think so,” I tell him, “Why?”

He hands his phone to me, “Can you put in the address?” 

Looking at him for a second before taking it, “Okay?” Glancing down at his lock screen, oh my heart. One of the many pictures he’s snuck of me, sitting across from him with my head in my hand as I lovingly stared at him. He’s the cutest man on the planet, I swear. I genuinely don’t think there’s anybody who compares. 

I typed the address into Maps and handed it back to him. 

“Why are we going there?” I ask quietly. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he says; his free hand found mine, patting it a few times before lacing his fingers into mine. The longer I look at him, the harder he fights a smile. 

“No, there’s a reason,” I persist, “tell meee!” 

He just shakes his head as the pink on his cheeks deepens. Oh, what a little shit.  His thumb rubs against my knuckles, only slightly distracting me. 

“Oh, never mind; I know why.” 

He cocks an eyebrow, glancing over at me for a second, “Do you now?” 

“Mhmm,” I hum, gently tracing the veins in his hand. Following the one that runs down into his wrist. “Someone’s a little eager today, hmm?” I love nothing more than to get him riled up. 

“What if I just have to pee?” He argues. Poorly, to be clear, he giggles while avoiding looking over at me.

“Oh, I’m sure,” I tease. Turning in my seat to face him more, propping my elbows up on the center console between us. Deciding that maybe if I lay it on thick, he won’t be able to deny his little plan. 

“Hey you,” he whispers. He pulls me closer to him and turns quickly to kiss me, almost missing my mouth entirely. 

“Hi,” I whisper back, snaking my hand onto his leg. “You really look so good today, babe.” I lean closer to kiss his cheek, feeling him smile as I do. Just letting my lips linger against his skin, anything to have contact with him. 

“Thank you, honey,” he quietly mutters. He’s still so shy to compliments, even though I shower him with them constantly. He’s gorgeous, and he needs to know that. 

I look at the screen, seeing we only have a few minutes before getting to the house. He can handle a little teasing, surely. 

I crept my hand further up his thigh, watching his eyes dart down. I made it to the hem of his shorts, gliding my hand over him just to see how far I could go. I let my hand rest on top of him, feeling him twitch. Putting a little pressure, his hand grabbed my wrist and kept my hand from moving. 

“Charlotte,” he tried to stop me; unfortunately for him, his stern voice was always so sexy to me. 

Stroking him carefully through his shorts, his hand grips me tighter, “I’m just trying to help,” I coo into his ear. Watching the goosebumps flood his neck, placing a kiss just behind his jaw. 

“You’re killing me,” his head drops back against the headrest. I glance back and see we only have five minutes before we make it. I can work with that. 

I hook my finger into his waistband, tugging down a little. His face whips over to mine, his eyes wide, and I just press a kiss to the tip of his nose. 

“Lift up, baby,” I tell him, my lips hovering over the shell of his ear. He shifts himself so I can tug down his shorts. His cock resting against his stomach; a mouthwatering sight, really. 

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I lean over further, wrapping one hand around his length, stroking him a few times. I look up at him from his lap before wrapping my lips around him. 

“Fuuuuuck me,” he moans as I sink further down him. Bobbing my head slowly, I feel his hand running down my back, firmly grabbing my ass as I take more of him into my mouth. Lingering there, I swallow gently and listen to the sweet sounds that come out of him. 

His hand moves over and presses against my already-soaked bottoms, giving me the slightest relief. A moan sneaks out of me; he needs to drive faster.  Encouraging me to really go for it, I slowly sink as far down as I can before dragging my lips back up. Swirling my tongue around him and listening to his little moans sneak out. 

“We’re almost there,” his breathy voice rings through the car while patting my ass a few times. My head moved a bit quicker, pumping him with my hand. I can feel the muscles in his body tensing as I try to get him there. 

His hand sneaks under my chin, tilting my face up towards him. I sit up, my hand still slowly stroking him as he looks at me. He grabbed my arm, stilling it as he put the car in park. 

“Honey, honey, please—“ he starts, his head tilted back against the seat. “God, you’re incredible, and wow, I’m so lucky, but please, can we go inside?” 

“But,” I whine, pouting my lip, “you were so close.”

He giggles at me, pulling his shorts back up before leaning in, kissing my pouty lip, and opening his door. He quickly walks to my side, pulls the door open, and grabs me from my seat. 

“Jake- oh my god,” I yelp as he’s hoisting me over his shoulder. The fact he’s strong enough to toss me around causally will always slip my mind until situations like this. 

Letting ourselves in, he pushes the door shut with his foot, setting me down in front of him. My hands pulled his face to mine, desperate to taste him. Gently biting on his bottom lip, my hands find his waistband again, eager to pick up where we left off—practically giggling into him as I feel his skin against my knuckles. 

“Mm mm,” he hums in between kisses. Slowly walking us back, until I bump into the counter. He smoothly unbuttons my shorts, letting them fall off my hips, and I kick them off. His hand found its place between my legs, softly tracing along me. 

“Hold on,” he tells me, lifting and setting me on the counter. He squats down, littering kisses on the insides of my thighs, sending shivers through my body. Pulling my bottoms to the side and placing a kiss on my clit first before swirling his tongue around it. My grip on the counter gets stronger as moans start falling from my lips. 

I feel his finger swipe up, and he smiles into me. 

“Oh, my sweet girl,” he taunts. His tongue flattened against me, licking a few long stripes and then kitten-licking at my clit. Sliding his middle finger into me slowly, I can’t stop the noise that comes out of me. 

His hands are slender but strong and large. His left hand is holding onto my thigh as he gently moves the right one. 

“Mmm, feels so good,” I moaned. 

He groans at the praise, vibrating against me. 

“More, please,” I beg. 

Looking up at me, and god, what a sight that is. His smirk was devious as he stood up. Propping himself up with his free hand and leaning in close to me, he slowly pumps his one finger into me. 

“What was that, hun?” He teases, nuzzling his face into my neck. 

“Please, please, please,” I whine, “more, baby.” He adds his ring finger, pumping his hand a bit faster and holding his palm against me for friction. Feeling his breath against my neck in between kisses, one of my hands holding onto him as he inches me closer. He curls his fingers up, hitting that spot over and over. I can feel my orgasm about to break, and he knows it. 

“God, I can’t wait to feel you, honey,” he whispers into my ear, the sultry tone of his voice sending me over, “Come for me.” The pleasure overwhelms me; his raspy voice, mixed with whatever magic he does with his hands, has me fluttering around him. The only word in my vocabulary right now is his name. 

He lets me enjoy the moment, slowing his hands until he finally pulls me into a hug. The warmth of his lightly burnt skin mixed with his scent; this is what heaven must be like. I cuddle my face into the crook of his neck but let my hands wander. Landing on his already hard cock, I can’t help but smile. 

“But I’m the eager one?” He teases, pulling my hips to the edge of the counter. My hands quickly pressed behind me to support myself, watching as he pulled down his shorts just enough, lining himself up with me. 

He tilts back up, watching my face as he slowly pushes himself in. My mouth fell open as he did, and he mimicked my face, letting his jaw slack. 

“So good, huh?”

What has gotten into him today? 

I can’t respond fast enough before he picks up one of my legs to rest against his chest, his arm holding it tight to him as he starts rocking his hips into me. 

“Jacob, holy shit—“ the way he’s angled, just pounding into the right spot. He turns his head, leaving sloppy kisses down my calf. Watching the muscles in his arms flex to hold me still and the way his jawline is so prominent. I carefully moved one of my hands to hold his jaw, just for a second. I let my fingers trace over his cheekbone, moving a stray piece of hair that was sticking to his face. 

He snakes his arm around my leg, letting his fingers find their way to my clit, making it harder to resist coming again. Putting just enough pressure as he makes tight circles on it, I can feel the tension about to snap. The sound of his hips smacking my ass feels like it’s getting louder as he picks up his pace. 

He looks down, watching the mess he’s creating, his mouth starting to hang open. Tiny drops of sweat form on his forehead, his eyebrows pulled together as he focuses. I can’t stop staring at how plump his bottom lip really is and how badly I want to bite it. It's a delicious moment to witness until he starts mumbling under his breath. 

“Come on, come on, come on, fuck-“ 

My hand grips his shoulder as my orgasm releases like I’d fall over if I didn’t hold on. I swear I could see sound in that moment. 

I pull myself closer to him as he’s still slowly moving his hips into me and littering his face and neck with tiny pecks, holding the back of his neck. His hand ran down the back of my head as I leaned against him. 

“It’s your turn, babe,” I whisper in his ear, wrapping my legs around him. He lifts me with a smile plastered on his face. Peppering his cheeks with kisses, leaving them on his cheekbones and down his nose, not caring that his skin was damp with sweat. 

He sits back on the couch with me in his lap, his cock still inside me. I rock my hips gently, starting slowly so I can make him feel as good as he deserves. His sweet face as he just watches me; holding his jaw and pressing kisses into his plump lips. 

I start to lift my hips, bouncing slowly on him, which makes him moan louder. I was inching my way up and carefully bringing myself down to his lap, stroking him painfully slowly. 

“Faster,” he mutters, his eyes fixed shut. Picking up my pace, I can see him fighting for his life as I continuously drop back down on him. I start letting out my own moans, knowing it will only help him. He grabs my waist tighter as he gets closer, his moans falling from his lips. 

“Come in me, baby,” I moan. “Or do you want your pretty cock in my mouth?” His head drops back as I ask.

“Holy shit, Charlotte,” he groans. 

 Where did that come from, Char, Jesus? 

He holds my hips still and starts fucking himself into me hard. I grip the back of the couch, trying to steady myself, but my god, it feels so good. 

“Jake- oh my,” slips out. His eyebrows pulled together; his mouth hung open as he was almost yelling with every thrust.

 “Let it go, baby.” 

The moment the words leave my lips, I can feel the release, his thrusts sloppy as his orgasm rips through him; loud profanities fill the air as he rides out his high, slowly becoming little whimpers under his breath as he comes down. 

I sat on his lap, his head hung back on the couch with his eyes gently shut. He’s so beautiful. I brush the baby hairs away from his face, clinging to his damp skin. I lean forward, snuggling close to him and feeling his arms wrap around me, keeping me tight against him as we sit in comfortable silence. 

“Hey,” he whispers after a few minutes.

I sat up to look at him, letting him rest his face in the palm of my hand. “Hi there, handsome. You doing okay?” 

“I’m going to be honest with you,” he giggles. I think I might need another minute.”  

“Really?”

“Well,” he starts, “I’ve been trying to figure out how to not make a mess when we get up.”

A laugh escapes me when I look down to realize the situation we’ve put ourselves in.

“I didn’t really think that part through,” I tell him. I can see the gears going in his head; the smile slowly growing on his face tells me everything I need to know. 

“What if I just hold you against me when I stand? Maybe it’ll just stay in-”

“BABE,” I bark out a laugh at the idea. 

“I’m not trying to get …stuff… all over your parent's couch!” He shyly rebuttals, “If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.” The smug look on his face should make me mad, but he’s too pure to get angry at. 

“You know what, go for it.” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

We giggle as we clean ourselves up. His plan didn’t work as well as he’d hoped, but we managed to get the worst of it into the bathroom. 

Naturally, it takes me a little longer to take care of things, so he let me have a minute. I take a second to fix my hair, pulling it up into a high ponytail. It looks terrible between the lake and getting laid. 

I flip the lights off to the bathroom as I walk out, going back to find him leaning against the kitchen counter. His shirt is still completely unbuttoned as he scrolls on his phone. I’m sure he’s checking in on the bar. 

Despite the very recent events, he looked so good. His tanned skin against the light blue denim shirt was enough to have me fold. His legs crossed in front of him as he stood there. Finally glancing up, his eyes light up, and tucking his phone back into his pocket. 

“Well, aren’t you just beautiful?” He says, holding his hands out towards me. 

“Oh hush,” I grab his hands, shuffling myself close to him. “I probably smell gross and I feel a little slimey.” 

He giggles before planting a kiss against my forehead, “I don’t know, you could still get it.” He mumbles against me, fighting his laugh. 

“You’re so dumb,” I tell him through a laugh, looking up at him and kissing his stupid lips. 

“Ready to head home?” He asks, squeezing my hands. 

I nod quickly, practically pulling him out the door. He’s made a habit of opening my car door for me, which is possibly the most adorable habit he has. 

We settle into our seats, and he hands me his phone to put music on for the drive home. I’m scrolling through his playlists looking for something when I realize we haven’t moved in a second. I look up to see the stop sign at the end of the road, and he’s just staring over at me. 

“What?” 

His hand reaches over, pulling my chin gently towards him until his lips are hovering over mine before whispering, “One more for the road.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Part One

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | The Caravel Tavern Series

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[the-name-is-z]

SKELETONS | ch. 13

daryl dixon x f!oc

masterlist

a03 link

Summary: Shane's role in the group comes into question, Carl is up and healing, and everyone seems to be pissed off at something. Warnings/Information: AMC's The Walking Dead OC Insert | 18+ Advised | strangers to lovers; the slowest of slow burns; gore; angst; horror; humour; m/f; carl learns how to whittle, writer mentions whittling ducks (inescapable halsin reference), carl steals a gun, a few group members learn to shoot, maggie gets pissed after a close call, mentions of pregnancy, (suggestions of) infidelity and abortion (copious amounts of morning after) pills, death threats

Chapter 13 - Gunslinging

Carl was up and walking the next morning, taking it easy and helping Lori feed the chickens with Patricia. He seemed to be doing okay, but Iris noted a few cynical comments from him that raised some eyebrows. 

Glenn was hiding something, and it almost amused Iris more to follow him and watch him try to keep it to himself than to get him to come clean. He brought some fruit over to Dale and T-Dog while they were setting up the RV’s awning and had practically told them there was something dreadfully wrong.

Daryl was back in his tent, relaxing, though slightly annoyed he wasn’t out and about with the others. He knew better than to strain himself further. He’d forgiven Andrea already for trying to protect the group, but Iris was still annoyed that Shane gave her a gun in the first place.

Rick and Shane entertained Jimmy around their search map, Shane looking for spots for them to start training the others with guns. Even Patricia and Beth seemed interested in learning how to protect themselves.

Iris watched the interaction from the RV stairs, Carl standing beside her as she taught him how to whittle. He was mostly skilled in sharp, pointy sticks so far, but learning how to work the knife was the first step. He wore Rick’s hat around now that Rick’d ditched the uniform, and it suited him, despite being a little big.

“How’s it coming?” She asked, pulling her own knife away from the slowly-forming duck shape in her hand. Carl showed her the stick and she nodded. “See if you can make rings around the wood, try to make ‘em even.” He accepted the challenge, holding the knife carefully as Shane meandered over from Rick and their map.

“Nice lid, man.” He commented on the hat. “What’s going on?”

“We’re whittling.” Carl said with a grin. Shane nodded, observing the stick. He took a seat nearby, stretching out his legs. Carl put the knife into his pocket, turning to Shane. “I want to learn to shoot, too. Can you teach me?”

“Well, man, that’s up to your parents.” Shane replied with a chuckle.

“He asked me, too.” Iris stated, giving Carl a pointed look. 

“Can you talk to them? They’ll listen to you.” Shane laughed.

“We’ll see, okay?” He answered. Carl nodded dejectedly, turning away

“Hey. What you got there?” Iris asked as he turned, a flash of black peeking out from under his shirt. Carl lifted the shirt, displaying the small revolver he’d found somewhere tucked into his pants. Iris and Shane looked to one another, the former holding out his hand expectedly. 

They told Carl to go sit down at the camp and wait while Shane and Iris brought the gun to Rick and Lori. 

“How the hell did this happen?” Lori asked, checking the ammo before tucking the gun into the waistband of her own jeans. Dale had his hands shoved in his pockets, glancing over at the young boy.

“It’s my fault, I let him into the RV. He said he wanted a walkie, that you sent him for one.” Dale explained. Rick sighed.

“So on top of everything else, he lied?” Lori asked, looking to her husband expectantly. “What’s he thinking?”

“He wants to learn how to shoot.” Shane stated. “He asked me and Iris both to teach him, separate times. Now it’s none of my business, but I’m happy to do it. It’s your call.”

“I’m not comfortable with it.” Lori replied with a humourless laugh. Rick didn’t say anything, looking up at Shane. “Oh, don’t make me the unreasonable one, here, Rick.”

“I know. I have my concerns too, but—“

“There’s no but. He was just shot.” Lori interrupted sternly. “He’s just back on his feet and he wants a gun?”

“Better than him being afraid of ‘em.” Rick countered.

“Maybe you could tide him over with a little gun safety.” Iris suggested. “As a start. Once he shows he’s responsible enough, he knows the rules, you can decide if he should learn more.”

“There are guns in this camp for a reason, he should learn to handle them safely.” Rick agreed. Lori scoffed and shook her head.

“I don’t want my kid walking around with a gun.” She stated plainly.

“But how can you defend that?” Rick asked. “You can’t let him go around without protection.”

“He’s as safe as he’ll ever be, right here.” Lori snapped. Rick sighed and she put up a hand. “Look, everything you’re saying makes perfect sense. It just feels wrong. I mean, I didn’t feel good about him following you out into the woods and I wish I’d said something. I should have gone with my gut.”

“He’s growing up— thank God. We’ve got to start treating him more like an adult.” Rick protested.

“Then he needs to act like one.” Lori said loudly, turning to her son. “He’s not mature enough to handle a gun.”

“I’m not gonna play with it, mom.” Carl said, standing and walking over. “It’s not a toy. I’m sorry I disappointed you, but I want to look for Sophia and I want to defend our camp. I can’t do that without a gun.”

“Shane’s the best instructor I know.” Rick said quietly, turning back to Lori. Iris smiled down at Carl, giving him a wink. She was proud of him for saying that. “I’ve seen him teach kids younger than Carl.” Lori blinked at her husband, staring for a moment before clamping her jaw shut and walking over to Carl. She gripped his face in one hand lightly, turning him up to face her.

“You will take this seriously.” She said firmly. “And you will behave responsibly. And if I hear from anyone in this camp that you’re not living up to our expectations—“

“He wont let you down.” Rick said, looking to his son pointedly. Carl nodded, looking up at his mom.

“Yeah.” He agreed. She squeezed his face before walking away.

“Now if you’re gonna do this, you listen to Shane.” Rick said.

“Okay, Dad.”

“Alright? You be careful.” He sent him off toward the cars as Shane and a few others started loading up the SUV and station wagon. Guns, ammo, things they could use for practice.

“You coming?” He asked Iris as she followed Carl.

“Yeah, I can be on walker duty.” She replied and he nodded.

“Glenn?”

“Nah, I told Dale I’d help him… clean the spark plugs on the RV.” Glenn replied, clearing his throat to hide the nervous tremor. Iris snorted loudly. “He’s gonna teach me mechanics. I should probably go look for him.”

“You found me.” Dale said, leaning against the small bench swing near the RV, raising an eyebrow. “He’s a good learner.” Iris and Shane exchanged a smirk as they got into the car, Shane starting up the engine.

They drove quickly to the spot Shane had scouted with the others following, and Shane quickly set up a line of old wine bottles, some filled with a bit of water, along the fence. Each one of them had a gun, holding them forward and shooting to the best of their ability. Shane walked along behind them like a sergeant, correcting form and straightening posture. Rick came out to watch for a while, mildly impressed by a few of them.

“Jimmy. You’re not a gangster from New Jersey. Hold the gun straight.” Iris called, noting the fact that the boy on the end was holding the gun with one hand, and sideways. He glanced back at her, putting both hands on the gun and holding it up and down before firing. The bullet shattered the glass of the bottle and she nodded. 

Andrea was particularly enjoying the shooting lessons, with good enough aim. She mostly liked showing off in front of Shane, it seemed.

“I’d say she’s got the hang of it.” Shane stated.

“I’d say she’s ready for the advanced class.” Rick joked. “Might be worth your while after the rest of us head back to camp.”

“Sure, why not?” Andrea agreed, though Iris could see how giddy she was. 

“Better watch your back, Shane. She might shoot you.” Iris taunted. Andrea turned around.

“You got a problem?” She asked, annoyed.

“Yeah, a little bit. I got a problem with the fact that everyone apparently forgot that you shot one of us yesterday. You need glasses or something?” Iris spat.

“Oh yeah? Since when are you one of us?” Andrea retorted. “Daryl forgave me, okay? I said I was sorry, and I am.” Iris scoffed, shaking her head.

“Whoa, whoa, ladies, c’mon now.” Shane interrupted, coming to stand between them. Andrea backed off a little, but in all honesty she was somewhat frightened by the fire in Iris’ eyes. 

“I’m heading back.” Iris mumbled. “Gonna walk.”

Iris needed to cool off, that was for sure. She was irritated. To be fair to Andrea, Daryl did forgive her. But Iris had a hard time with it. She was frustrated that they weren’t making progress, toward finding Sophia, toward Fort Benning, any of it. She’d heard Hershel and Rick arguing, she knew that Hershel wanted them all to leave. That they weren’t welcome. Except Rick kept that to himself, and Iris was growing impatient. 

There were things all of them needed to learn. Things Iris had to do the hard way. She lost everyone, and they didn’t know what that felt like. Maybe Andrea did, but she still had her group. And she almost threw them away like they were nothing, giving up, opting out. Iris had had plenty of opportunity to kill herself. But she wouldn’t. She felt an obligation to the world, to these people, now.

Maybe this was all just pent up emotion coming out. It probably was. But when Iris returned alone to the farm, she stuck to herself. She spent a few hours throwing her knives into a target she carved into a tree. Dale and Glenn asked if she was alright a while ago, and took her silence as an answer.

After a while, she started to sweat in the hot Georgia sun, and reached for her bandana to tie her hair back. She realized then that it was gone. She’d used it to prevent Daryl from bleeding to death in the woods. Iris would never said she regretted it, and she didn’t, but she did miss the bandana. It was Felix’s. 

-

Iris looked up from helping Lori fold laundry as Glenn and Maggie stormed through the camp. Well, Maggie did the storming and Glenn followed her sheepishly. Everyone else had dispersed across the farm, and apparently Shane and Andrea were out looking for Sophia.

“Hey! We got your stuff.” Maggie snapped, slamming the gate behind her, right into Glenn. Lori looked up, somewhat alarmed.

“Maggie, hang on, please.” Glenn pleaded. Lori looked around frantically for other people, glancing nervously down at Iris, who was very confused.

“Come on in here.” Lori called, gesturing for Maggie to follow her into her tent, but Maggie was not having it.

“Why? Nothing to hide, we got your special delivery right here.” She yelled, shoving her arm into the paper bag. “We got your lotion, got your conditioner, your soap opera digest—“

“Maggie—“ Lori breathed.

“Next time you want something, get it your damn self. We’re not your errand boys.” She hissed.

“Honey, I—“

“And here’s your abortion pills.” Maggie snapped, throwing them into the dirt before shoving Glenn away, storming off. Iris’ mouth fell open, and she stayed silent as Lori scrambled to pick the pills up off of the ground. Glenn shot Lori an apologetic look before running after Maggie. Lori had tears in her eyes as she crouched, a hand to her mouth. She turned to Iris with a pleading look.

“I won’t say a word.” Iris whispered, shaking her head. Lori’s tears slipped down her face. “No judgement whether you take them or not. I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.” Lori murmured. She practically collapsed into Iris’ arms, breathing deeply. Iris rubbed her back comfortingly, staring after Glenn and Maggie. Something must have happened. Maggie had blood on her shirt, but they both seemed fine. Hopefully Glenn could make her feel better.

Glenn came back a little while later, Lori and Iris sitting at the table inside her large tent. 

“The blood on Maggie’s shirt?” Iris asked.

“She was attacked.” He confirmed.

“Are you guys alright? How bad was it?” Lori asked.

“It was pretty close.” He replied, stepping inside and taking a seat next to Iris, running his hands through his hair. She put a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry.” Lori said, shaking her head. “I should never have asked you to go.”

“I offered.” Glenn replied, shaking his head.

“I thought the town was safe, but if you hadn’t come back—“

“But we did. I always do.” He assured. He had another bag in his hands and he messed with it as he looked down. “The morning-after pills— will they even work?”

“I don’t know.” Lori replied. “And I don’t know if I want them to.”

“Then, I got these too, just in case.” Glenn said, putting the paper bag on the table in front of her. She unwrapped the bag, pulling out two bottles of prenatal vitamins. Iris couldn’t hold back her small smile, and neither could Lori.

“That’s a hell of a choice.” Lori murmured.

“I’m glad it’s not mine.” Glenn stated honestly. “Lori… we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“With everything we’ve been through— yeah.” Lori replied quickly. He shook his head.

“I can’t tell you what to do— I could never tell you something like that. But your choice… maybe you shouldn’t make it alone.” He said nothing more before standing, putting his hand on Iris’ shoulder before ducking out of the tent.

“I’ll leave you alone for a bit. I’ll be nearby if you need me.” Iris said softly. Lori nodded, putting her head in her hands as Iris left her to think.

Shane and Andrea returned a little while later, with no sign of Sophia. They looked a little tired and had some walker blood on them, but no worse for wear. Yet, Iris could have sworn she saw a hickey. Dale seemed as equally suspicious of them. Iris nodded to Shane as he walked past, but Dale followed after him.

“Shane, I was thinking, you’ve got that nice new ride of yours, plenty of fuel, more than enough for you to get far from here.” Dale said sharply. Iris’ eyebrows shot up. Shane was… problematic, sometimes, but no one yet had outright asked him to leave. 

“What, you telling me to leave?” Shane asked, glancing at Iris before looking back to Dale. It appeared that Iris would witness many a-private argument today.

“I know you’ve been planning to.” Dale said simply. “Maybe now’s a good time.” Shane looked to Iris, who stayed frozen, before huffing a laugh.

“Is this about Andrea?” He asked, narrowing his gaze.

“I’m looking out for the group.” Dale answered.

“You think the group would be better off without me, Dale? Why don’t you tell that to Rick or Lori? Their boy would be dead if I hadn’t put my ass on the line.”

“They’d be pretty disappointed if they knew you were using that as an excuse to save your own ass.” Iris said lowly. She wouldn’t let Carl become a bargaining chip for this bullshit.

“You risked yours, and Otis’s.” Dale pointed out. Shane said nothing, shaking his head and turning away. “Yeah, you’ve been vague about that night, about what happened.”

“Otis died a hero.” Shane said simply, turning back around.

“So you’ve said.” Dale replied accusingly. 

“A little boy lived because of what went down that night.” Shane glowered. “I think you oughta show some gratitude.”

“I wasn’t there.”

“No, man, you weren’t.”

“But I was the time that you raised your gun on Rick.” Dale continued.

“What?” Iris asked, standing up.

“Come on. Jesus.”

“You had him in your sights and you held him there.” Dale continued. “I know what kind of man you are.” Shane stared down at the ground for a moment before looking up through his eyebrows. Iris had no love for the look in his eyes. His voice was barely above a whisper.

“You think I’d shoot Rick?” He breathed. “That’s my best friend. That’s the man that I love. I love him like he’s my brother. You think that’s the kind of man I am?”

“That’s right.” Dale replied confidently.

“Well, maybe we ought to just think that through.” Shane replied lowly. Iris stepped toward them slowly, her hand moving to rest on the handle of her knife. That sounded an awful lot like a threat. “Say that I’m the kind of man who’d gun down his own best friend. What do you think I’d do to some guy that I don’t even like when he starts throwing accusations my way? What do you think?”

Dale’s eyes were wide as Shane got close, looking down at him dangerously. Iris stepped forward, behind Dale, so she could remind him there were witnesses. And honestly, she would be much harder to kill. Shane stood there for a few seconds, hopefully contemplating what he just said, before turning away. Dale shuddered as he turned meeting Iris’ gaze.

“I’ll keep an eye on him.” She muttered. He nodded, refusing to turn his back on Shane’s retreating silhouette.

-

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