#and I'll sit and pluck it all when it gets to that point

[ubeb0nes]

Sevika's Acts of Service…

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Visibly offended whenever you try and lift anything heavier than five pounds and don't immediately ask her to do it

Let her do it

Please

Actually, you don't even get a choice she's already taking it out of your hands and walking away

If you wear glasses and the lenses are getting all gross, she notices like immediately. Will mutter something like, "The hell's the point of you even wearing them?" As she plucks them off your face to wipe them with the cloth thingy hanging off her waistline.

She puts on a whole show of being annoyed with having to do this, but you know from the first time she does it how much she adores this little act of service

Could, would, has killed someone for you. Deep down, she knows even Silco isn't safe if you will it so. She doesn't like this part of her.

Doesn't fuss when you're sick, but absolutely fusses when you're injured.

She dips into your home in the middle of her work day just to change your bandages/make sure you've eaten

"If you move from this bed today, I'll kick your ass." "What, like the guy who put me here?" "I- that is not funny-" "You started it!"

After nights where she wins pretty well at cards (which is most nights she plays cards), she always stops to get you something to eat from one of the better food spots in Zaun

She always asks "What can I do" before "Are you okay". If she can do something to help, then she can guarantee you'll be okay, in her mind.

If you ever say, "Baby, I need you to do something," in a sweet voice, she is on her feet and at attention, yes ma'am.

No but really, she'll drop whatever she's doing and be very visibly fighting against the urge to whip around and ask you what you need. She'll give you a soft "Hm?" as she meets your eyes as a compromise

She likes bringing you coffee in bed. She's always up before you to have her morning smoke anyway, don't make a big deal out of it, and stop making those dopey eyes-

She actually really likes serving you food/drinks in general. It makes her feel like she can provide something for you, take care of you. Always mutters a prideful little, "here, sweetheart," as she does.

If she says she's going to do something, then she will. No if's or but's. This doesn't even just apply to you, it's just how she lives her life

This does not, however, apply to any introspective ventures you may ask of her… those are a lot scarier than any physical task you could ask her to do

It will probably take a near-break up, if not a whole break, for her to realize that it's worth it for you.

You're the last good thing she has. She'll fight for you like she's fought for everything else in her life. The embodiment of "For you, I will". You sit right next to a freed Zaun in her heart.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Different: Christmas

Katie McCabe x Teen!Reader

Summary: Christmas with Clover

"Coopurr...Coopurr, man, knock it off!"

Your mum's cat continues to try to attack your feet under the safe covers of your bed.

"Coopurr! Come on!"

"You can just kick him off the bed," Your aunt Ella says from the doorway and you finally sit up in bed.

"I can't because he's the only sane person in this house! Do you know what it's like leaving with you two?"

"Amazing?"

Your mother pops her head through the door. "The most perfect thing in the world?"

You let out a bark of laughter. "You wish."

Katie winks. "I don't have to wish for something that's already true."

"The most perfect thing in the world is you leaving me here for Christmas."

It's Katie's turn to laugh now, pulling down your blankets and allowing Coopurr to bat at your now exposed toes.

"No chance," She says," Come on, up! We've got the flight back home this evening."

"Just leave me here to rot!" You say dramatically and Katie laughs again.

"You know, if you're here alone then you have to cook for yourself," She points and you sigh, finally sitting up in bed and scooping Coopurr into your arms.

"Fine," You say," But don't think I'll be happy about it."

"You're never happy about anything."

"Kim'll tell you that it's because I'm a teenager."

Katie cracks a smile. "You know what? Kim's onto something."

You roll your eyes as you get out of bed as Katie's eyes narrow.

"You haven't even started packing yet, have you?"

"I was still banking on us staying here."

Katie plucks Coopurr from your arms with an eye roll, trying to push you along with her foot. "Go and pack. And make sure to bring lots of jumpers! You know my parents don't like turning on the heating in Winter!"

You rolls your eyes as you go rummaging around in your wardrobe for your suitcase.

It's not like you don't enjoy going back to Ireland. On the contrary, you love going back to Ireland. You just didn't enjoy how big of a family you have.

Certain members of the family seemed to delight in reminding you that you weren't actually Katie's daughter. It didn't seem to matter to them that Katie had been a mother figure to you all your life. It didn't seem to matter to them that you barely even remembered your biological parents.

All that seemed to matter to them was pointing out that you were technically, biologically, Katie's little cousin.

You stuff whatever's clean and visible into your suitcase with little regard to what clothes you're actually packing before practically throwing the suitcase down the stairs.

"Stop trying to break stuff!" Katie yells.

"Ella's the one that broke the hallway table!" You yell back with a laugh," She came in drunk and fell over it!"

Ella gasps in horror from her room. "You said that you wouldn't tell her that!"

"And you said you would get me ice cream. But here I am...Ice creamless!"

You don't actually get your ice cream, even at the airport when you very pointedly show a selection of ice creams to Ella and she promptly ignores you.

Pulling up to your grandparents' house has always been a bit daunting to you. Before Katie adopted you, you lived in that house too, once upon a time.

Now though, it feels you with trepidation.

Most of the family is probably already there and you just know you're going to have to end up sharing a room with more people than just Katie.

You're right, of course, when a few other aunts and uncles arrive. Katie's aunts and uncles, of course, but also kind of yours. But you'd never really considered them that.

They were related to your biological parents and, again, you barely remembered them. You'd grown up with Katie as your maternal role model so it made sense to you as you got older that her siblings ended up filling the roles of aunts and uncles to you.

"You feeling okay?" Katie asks, hand gently covering yours as you sit on the squished sofa and pick at the Christmas Eve meal that her mother made for everyone.

"I...Yeah, I just..." You look up at one of the older men in the room, the one that always insisted on calling you anything but Katie's daughter. "I'm just going to the toilet."

"You feel sick?" Katie sits up properly, eyes narrowed as they flick over your face, searching for a flush or anything that shows you're feeling under the weather.

"No! No...I...I just need a bit of a breather, you know?"

"Yeah, kind of overwhelming around here, huh?"

"Yeah...I'm just gonna..."

"Yeah, you go ahead."

The mirror in the bathroom clearly hasn't been cleaned in a while, covered in little water droplets but you don't really mind as you splash your face with water a few times and stare at yourself, gripping the sides of the sink in a white knuckle grip.

It takes you a while to psych yourself up, enough time that you're pretty sure dinner has been finished and people have moved onto dessert.

It's usually loud in the McCabe household and on Christmas Eve, it's no different.

Lots of people fighting over the remote and someone singing a horrific Christmas carol and someone else lecturing someone on the correct way to cook a turkey even though everyone knows that no matter how a turkey is cooked, it always comes out dry.

But this yelling is different and you definitely recognise the voice of one of the people yelling.

"Get your bag!" Katie yells, finally spotting you lingering in the doorway.

"Wh-What?"

"Your bag!" Katie snaps before sighing and softening her voice," Can you go upstairs and grab our bags? Wait for me by the door."

You know better than to try and ask her things when she's like this so you leave to grab everything, coming down to catch the tailwind of her yelling.

"-She is my daughter and she will always be my daughter, no matter what any of you people think!"

"Katie-"

"No! I won't hear it! She's my daughter and I love her and it's none of your business anyway!"

"You can't just leave, it's Christmas tomorrow!"

"Yes! And I will be spending Christmas with my daughter! I don't care if it's just the two of us. If it has to be that way then it will!"

Katie looks surprisingly calm when she joins you at the front door.

"I don't think we'll get a flight at this hour," She says," But I reckon we could still catch the ferry and then we'll take a cab back home, sound good?"

You smile at her. "I might have accidentally left your present at home anyway."

She laughs. "That's 'cause you're psychic. You knew we were spending Christmas at home this year."

[puckingeccedentesiast]

Sunsets & Daisies

Luke Hughes x Reader Word Count: 2.3k Description: Luke Hughes and his fiancée always have an annual spring photo shoot, this year for their fourth anniversary Luke gets some welcome news.

Every year, when September hits Luke and Y/N venture to some decadently and much fought over location for their annual photo shoot. What once started with the two cramming into a Photo Booth, drunk on Luke’s birthday became somewhat of their tradition.

This year Y/N had practically begged Luke to relinquish all control he had and give it to her, given as of recently a huge surprise - a future altering surprise, was now at play. It had been almost nine months since Luke proposed and with the wedding two days away the couple thought this would be the perfect time to have the shoot before the season starts.

The location was about a forty-five out of Michigan, and was scheduled for the late afternoon in an attempt to achieve some sunset lit pictures. Luke’s sling added to the difficulty of getting ready, being sure not to accidentally aggravate his shoulder while also trying to get the polo shirt on was a massive task.

"You're too tall Lukey, can you bend down a sec?" you murmured, making sure to gently thread the bunched fabric over his injured shoulder first. The swollen, bruised skin making you grimace as Luke hissed through his teeth when you rotated his arm to allow the other one to slip through. "Sorry bub."

"It's alright." Luke whispered, "You're doing your best and their isn't much else we can do for the pain."

"You can have another does of pain killers when we get there, I'll put them in my purse for you to take before we get there.” The girl spoke as she put said medicine in her purse, among other essentials as well as today’s surprise. While she was allowed the liberty of preparing the surprise with the photographer by graciously offering to organise this year's photo shoot, claiming that Luke already does to much. However if Luke told you the story, it would have been told so dramatically the person listening would have assumed you held him at gunpoint. Which was completely untrue. You had used a hot spatula.

"Sounds, good." Luke spoke, grabbing a cap, using it to brush his hair back so it sat perfectly. You could see the one handed struggle he was having as you watched his scrunched up face in the mirror.

With a heavy sigh you crossed your arms, staring at him in the mirror, "Luke, if you think for a second you are wearing that cap during the shoot you have a lot more concerning things to worry about rather then your shoulder."

“I wouldn’t dare, it’s just till we get there so my hair doesn’t get super frizzy.” Luke stated, giving a pointed look as he turned back around and started to walk over to where you sat at the vanity, brushing the last bits of makeup across your face with the brush before turning the light switch and watching the bulbs dim till the room was bathed in darkness.

Exiting down the hallway and plucking the seperate car, house and gate keys off of their designated wall hooks in the entry way, playing them into your purse knowing because of Luke’s arm, even though he would insist on driving you will have to. Walking into the kitchen, hand brushing past the marble countertop, fingers drifting over the bunch of bananas sitting on the stone as you contemplated what you wanted to eat as well as a snack to take.

Luke trotted down the stairs quickly, heavy footsteps sounding out, softened by carpet but still loud enough to contemplate whether or not an elephant was storming throughout your house. “Should I wear my white sneakers? Or my blue ones?”

“I��d wear the blue.. well they are navy actually. There might be red dirt there and it will be easier to get it out of the blue rather than the white.” you said with an analytical tone, thinking best about the circumstances. “Besides, they will work well with your shirt.”

You heard Luke shuffle off down the hallway to the mud room, where you had all the shoes stowed away in little cubby cubes under the coat rack.

“Can you grab my black ankle boots please?” you requested as you opened the fridge, still in search for snacks you knew you were going to want inevitably. It was remarkable how dense men were sometimes, Luke, who knows you inside and out hasn’t even put a thought as to why you may be eating more or why you wanted one food constantly. Almost like you were craving, something.

“The ones with the little chain?” Luke called back out, you could hear him pulling the weaved baskets in and out.

“No! The ones with the little ribbing down the side of the legs?” You spoke, albeit louder so it carried down the hall into the room Luke was in.

“So the ones with the chain!” Luke’s tone matched yours, his with filtered confusion. He was holding said boots, they were black with a tan, woody coloured block on the heel of them, although it added little height and across the ribbed stitching on the side of the boots was a dainty little gold chain.

From where you were standing, brow creased as you looked into the fridge, eyes darting from the bread to make some toast, to the eggs which you could quickly scramble and maybe put on the toast. Then your eyes locked with the packet of dark chocolate covered almonds. Now they would be good.

“Y/N!” Luke cried, still looking at the boots as he waited for an answer. Looking at the wall with a expression of concern and disbelief.

“They aren’t the same boot Luke! They are different bo-“ Y/N cut herself off as Luke wandered into the kitchen, boots in hand. “Oh. But they are two different boots! I swear they are!”

Slamming the fridge door shut, discarding the loaf of raisin toast and butter container and jar of strawberry jam on to bench, crouching and letting the items fall from your arms onto the bench with a clink from the glass jar. You rounded the counter, using your hand to prevent you from bumping your hip bone on the stone.

Luke watched as you damn near jogged, more of a hop, skip and jump down the hall towards the mud room. It was cute, watching your light anger in being wrong show through your actions. Listening to the manic shuffling of the woven crates as you pulled them out of each of their cubby shelves only to see they weren’t the pair of shoes you thought existed, but clearly didn’t. When you came stomping back down the hall with a heavy pout and furrowed brow, giving the boots which matched the description you gave with disdain.

“You were right.” Your tone was short and sad.

“Yeah.. is that upsetting you?” Luke asked, eyebrows scrunching together.

“It is. It shouldn’t but it is.” You spoke in an incredulous tone. Moving back over to the bench, fingers toying with the plastic covering the bread loaf. You felt as if you wanted to yell, cry and scream all at the same time. Darn mood swings.

Luke just laughed, a rich hearty sound that made your knees wobble as you screwed open the jam jar, placing the raisin toast into the toaster, waiting and ruffling through different packets of chips in the snack drawer picking out two and throwing them in Luke’s direction.

“What flavours do you want?” You asked, still swatting your way through the chip drawer.

“I’m not going to be hungry. I ate before remember?” Luke looked up from his phone.

“Okay the-“ you cut yourself off as the toaster popped up, bringing the raisin toast with it. You grabbed the toast out, flinging it onto the bench after realising it was too hot to just hold onto.

Smearing the butter and jam onto the slices of toast, shoving one into your mouth holding it in your teeth as you turned and placed the bread and condiments back into the fridge. After taking a solid, hearty bite of the toast you placed it back onto the bench, not minding the crumbs that dropped off it. You grabbed the boots from where they sat next to the kitchen island counter and slipped your feet into them, the black tights you were wearing to battle the brisk september air aiding in your pursuit.

"Are you ready to go?" Luke looked up as you asked him this, stretching his none injured arm out, then slotting his phone into his back pocket.

"Whenever you are!" He replied enthusiastically, standing up and holding his hand out for you. He watched as you grabbed your purse, still holding your piece of toast trying not to let the jam dribble down your hand. Luke held the front door open as you stepped out and followed the path to where the car was parked in the driveway. You pressed down on the key fob to unlock the door so you could slide into the driver seat while Luke situated himself in the passenger seat, awkwardly reach across his body to pull the seat belt over and click it into place.

Mirroring Luke, albeit with more ease you strapped yourself in before pulling backwards out of the driveway, checking both ways for traffic. Heading to the stop sign at the end of the street, pulling away from the suburban area and driving away from the city after taking an entry onto the highway to go south. Luke had taken care of the music, connecting his phone to the car via aux cord and playing the majority of his songs, with your input for a song here and there.

"Play that Garth Brooks one.. the country one Jack really likes." you spoke, voice raised slightly to project over the song that was currently playing.

"Why would I play that?" Luke questioned back, his face skeptical.

"Because Callin' Baton Rouge is a fantastic song. Now play it." you responded, looking in the rearview mirror, checking the lanes next to you before merge into the exit turning lane, heading down a rural street where the sides of the road was lined with fences holding cattle in and big tall trees acting as a windbreak.

Even though he had absolutely no idea where the final destination was Luke was staring to catch on that it might have something to do with a field, something very nature-y. He was right, or by the fact that you pulled up next to a white toyota camry near the entrance gate to a field which was bordered with a small forest. Following you and getting out of the car, he watched as you ambled over, shook the young woman's hand.

"Luke, this is Kelly. She will be doing our photos this year." Y/N introduced the photographer, it was obvious that she wasn't a random due to the high quality canon camera she was cradling in one arm.

"Pleasure to meet you." Luke exchanged pleasantries with the woman before the little group of three set off into the field, heading towards the treeline. There was a dirt track that Luke could hear led down toward a creek, he could see why you had told him not to wear his good white shoes, there was a certain chance his shoes would be getting a little dirty.

With all credit to you, he had to admit that the spot was absolutely stunning and he couldn't imagine a more perfect place for the photos. Particularly when the dense foliage thins out and he can see the beautiful architecture of some kind of ruined building. Nature had taken over, vines crawling all up the elegant arches which were bathed in late afternoon sun.

"This is beautiful darlin'" Luke murmured in your ear as he looked up from where he was perched on a rock, this was just one of the many positions and places Kelly had you too stand, sit, hug, kiss, smile or laugh for the photos. He already seemed elated at the fact the photoshoot was happening, he hadn't even gotten the news that was turning your stomach inside out with nerves. Or was it something else?

"Okay, Luke, can you turn and face the creek? I need Y/N behind you, and then you are going to turn around." Kelly asked, setting up for the final shot of the big moment. She winked at you as you pulled the little reel of photos out of your purse. Taking a deep calming breath as you stood behind him, holding the photos that represented your future with Luke, you hands were shaking but you stood. "Okay Luke. Turn around for me."

As Luke did you met his briefly before they locked onto the ultrasound photos you held for him to see. His beaming smile dropped into a gape as he looked at the photos dumbfounded, but it quickly returned as he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words he so desperately wanted to say. Instead he scooped you into his arms, spinning you around as the camera clicked. Capturing this moment forever, allowing you to reflect on it and show it to family and friends.

"Your- Your seriously." Luke stammered, placing you down, cradling the side of your head as well as the side of your stomach.

"Yeah.. I am." you smiled back, matching his grin with one just as bright.

He pulled away turning away and pumping the air before shouting into the forest clearing. "I'm going to be a dad!"

Yes you are Luke Hughes, a damn great one.

[yandere-wishes]

just read the latest grayson fic and him with joker and harly’s daughter 😊 it would be so good.

I think wildcard would be good because having a child grow up in the Gillian industry, they would see the fails others have had and she could use them as well so you don’t know what she knows from other villains. And oml giggles sounds like something her parents would call her as a cute nickname💜 I love that thought.

I'm so glad you enjoyed it!! I actually have plans to write HC for all the batboys with their respective villain!Darlings! I'm just not sure when I'll get to it cause Uni is starting up again soon 😭😭😭

I'm not sure what the Gillian industry is (do all of Batman's villains have homes in the same neighborhood? That would make for killer domestic life fanfiction!!!💞💖💞💖) But the idea of her being a "Wildcard" and having been raised on the villains' doctrines. Given the chance to study their shortcomings is IMMACULATE!!! She'd be so overpowered, I LOVE IT!!

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🂠 She's not just the daughter of Batman's greatest (and scariest) villain, but also an amalgamation of all his rogues. She'd know all his weaknesses before she was even a teenager. Bonus points if she was literally raised by the Rogue's gallery to BE Batman's demise!!

🂠 Joker I feel would be a good dad (I know scandalous thought) there is a joke somewhere in all of this. That you created someone, an extension of yourself to defeat your greatest rival. That it took years of your failure to make a perfect "version of yourself". Someone stronger, smarter, better, someone who is the panicle of all you stand for and want to achieve. Although I can see him being a strict father, one who only permits social interactions with other "freaks" trying to keep her daughter safe from all the "boring sheep" of Gotham.  

🂠 Harley is such a loving (smothering at times) mother. She will definitely teach her daughter all she knows. Heck her first toy is probably going to be a mallet of some kind. Their Mother-Daughter time consists of Gymnastic training and rollerblading.

🂠 Ivy is definitely the Godmother (IDK who the Godfather would be? Riddler may be or Twoface just for the divorced aesthetic with Ivy)  and despite it not sitting well with Joker. She's going to teach the reader about seduction and how to lour in your prey.

🂠 The rest of the rouges help out too. Teach her all they know, raising her to be better than they ever were. I feel like, as the rouges grow older, they start to see the merit in having a legacy, someone to raise and "pass the torch to" kinda like Bats does with the Robins.

🂠 But the irony of all this is that Wildcard!Reader prefers to fight Nightwing as opposed to Batman. Sure it's fun family time to try all kill the bat with her mother and father. But she's honestly more interested in ripping apart the Wisecraking acrobat that somehow knows exactly where she is at all times. The black-haired menace that won't leave her alone, that hugs her a little too close and too tightly when he's cuffing her wrists. The golden boy who stole her first kiss and who shamelessly trails even more kisses down her neck. The "HERO" who haunts her nightmares even when she's home, safely tucked into her funhouse-esque bed...

🂠 Wildcard!Reader is slowly but surely starting to see just why her father is so obsessed with Batman, there is something so disgustingly saccharine about these heroes, something so bright that it crawls under your skin and festers inside you. She wants to see Nightwing dead, to ring his neck with her own fingers, to string him from the tent roof and pluck his teeth out one by one. But while Wildcard!Reader is dreaming up Nightwing's demise, the same hero is watching her through her window, tracing little hearts along the glass, fantasizing about the day she'll be in his arms forever.

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I think that also adds so much to the story, she was raised to kill Batman but grew obsessed with Nightwing. Legacy crashing into legacy. The one destined to destroy and the one fated to protect.

Her parents shrug it off as a "rebellious phase". Thinking that one day she'll awaken ready to commence on a warpath to Batman. But this hate-filled obsession isn't going away, it grows stronger by the day.

Harley is kinda happy that her little Giggles has found both her arch nemesis and obsession.  

Joker, on the other hand, is...conflicted, on one hand, he's happy that his enmity with the Batman/batfamily will outlive him. But on the other hand, he'd just LOVE to see his little girl finally put an end to Batsy. Albit if she did do that then Joker wouldn't have an excuse to get out of the Bahama trip he's been promising Harley.

Also, I completely forgot about Dick living in the circus, that just adds another intriguing layer to all of this!!

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

Live on Air - Lando Norris

<word count - 2063>

As you drove home, under the street lights illuminating the road beneath you, you spotted a notification on your phone that was on the seat next to you. From what you could see, it was Lando messaging about something, but you couldn't read the fine print of the text.

Thankfully, your phone was connected to your car and it wasn't long before the message popped up on the center console of the vehicle. 'Hey baby, I'll be on stream when you get home, so feel free to come and say hi!' the text read, but you weren't really feeling like being on stream today. 

You were home within a few minutes, so you parked the car and walked up to the front door. You found it was still locked as Lando wouldn't be able to hear if anyone came in or not. Unlocking it, you slipped your shoes off and put them orderly in the rack. 

Walking up the stairs, you heard Lando talking to someone, so you assumed he was doing the stream with one of his friends, most likely Max. You stripped off your work clothes and changed into some grey joggers and a baggy hoodie that you probably stole off Lando at some point. 

As you didn't want to disturb his stream, you went downstairs to the living room to watch some TV to wind down. You snuggled up on the couch with a blanket and all of the pillows you could possibly find, and scrolled through Netflix to find something you hadn't already watched.

After around an hour of reverting back to watching Friends for what felt like the tenth time, you felt your stomach rumbling and remembered that Lando probably hadn't had dinner either. Shooting him a quick text, you pressed play on the controller again and waited for his reply.

Checking your phone a short while later, you saw that Lando wanted pasta, and you also felt like having some garlic bread, so you didn't object. You paused the show, and started boiling the water in the pot. 

Meanwhile, you let the chopped tomatoes, garlic, peppers, chorizo and basil simmer away in the pan as it made a tasty sauce. As you poured the pasta into the boiling water, you were careful not to let any splash on you, but a huge droplet jumped onto your hand as you yelped in shock.

You ran to the sink, running the cool water onto your hand. the droplet left a little red circle that still hurt slightly. You grabbed a plaster from the cupboard to stop the burn from getting dirty, and stuck it to the back of your hand.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted that the pasta was boiling over and onto the stove top. "Shit!" you said, striding over to the cooker and turning the pasta down. You fished around with a fork and plucked a piece out, finding out that it was a bit too soft. 

You drained it and plated it up, pouring the sauce out over the pasta. You realised that you had forgotten to put the garlic bread in the oven, but you thought it was fine to put it in now and have it later. 

You picked up Lando's plate and made your way up to his room so that it wasn't cold when he got it. You knocked on the door, hearing a muffled 'Come in' from inside. You opened the door and watched as Lando spun around on his chair to face you.

"Hey, baby! Chat, look who it is!" he spoke, opening his arms out for you. You set the plate and cutlery down on his desk and perched down next to him. "I forgot to put the garlic bread in, so it's going to take another then minutes," you smiled, balancing yourself on the armrests of his chair.

"That's fine, where's yours?" he asked, pushing his keyboard back so he could bring his plate forward. "Mine's downstairs," 

"Do you want to come up here and eat? Max is having dinner too," he said, and there was no way you could say no to him. Some of his brown curls had fallen onto his forehead and the lights in his room cast the perfect light on his skin.

"Yeah, I'll go and grab mine," you said, doing exactly that. When you had gotten back, you found an armchair next to his gaming chair. Sitting down, you saw that Lando had taken his headphones off and had the audio sounding out through the room.

"I know guys, I know. She's brilliant and I am very lucky to have her," he smiled, reading the messages from chat. He meant every word of it and felt like the luckiest man alive to be able to just have you in his life.

"Lando, what the hell are you doing?" Max yelled, Lando laughing and tears streaming down his face.

"I was gone for 2 minutes," you laughed, sitting down and tucking into your pasta. They always got up to some shenanigans, but you didn't think things could happen that quickly.

"Stream is crazy, what can I say," Lando said, also tucking into his pasta. "Babe, chat is asking what we're having," 

"We are having pepper, tomato and chorizo pasta with garlic bread that is coming in a few minutes," you giggled, watching as chat told you what they were also telling you what they were having for dinner.

As you were about to finish, Lando noticed the plaster on your hand. "Hey, what happened here?" he asked, taking your hand and swiping his fingers over the plaster. 

"Oh, I burnt it," you shrugged, trying to go back to eating. 

"You burnt it? How?" he panicked, checking you all over as if you had burnt your entire body. "The water from the pasta got onto my hand when I was pouring it, no big deal," you told him. He brought your hand up to his lips and planted a soft kiss over the area. 

"Awww he does have a heart," you heard Max mock and chat was going out of their mind because of how cute you were. You were racing against Max and Lando a few minutes later, and you were battling with Lando for the win. 

You knew he could absolutely beat the living hell out of you on this game, so it was obvious he was just going easy on you. Suddenly, a loud beeping rang out through the house and it instantly hit you what it was. "Shit, the garlic bread!" you yelled springing out of the chair and running down to the kitchen.

Opening the oven, you saw the charred garlic bread and flung it out and onto the counter top. You plated the blackened bread up and took it to Lando. "Do you want some crispy garlic bread?" you giggled, showing the plate to the camera. 

"Oh my god that is horrendous," he laughed as you pouted at him with your pitiful plate of bread in your hands. "I just wanted garlic bread," you complained, putting it on top of your dirty plates and reading all of the funny messages from chat about your fail.

"We can order some in, if you want," he said, feeling just as heartbroken as you were about the lack of garlic bread. Well, he wasn't necessarily disappointed at the absence of the bread, he was saddened by the look of discontent on your face. 

"It's alright, there are a few bits that aren't overly crispy," 

You were enjoying yourself, racing with Max and Lando, talking with the fans, providing the comedic relief. You were squirming about in your seat as it had gotten uncomfortable after a while. Lando gently grabbed your wrists and tugged you over to him. 

You sat yourself on his thigh and laced one of your arms around his shoulders. It was nice just to spend time with him, his best friend and his fans - who meant the world to him. 

You let yourself lean into him as his scent enveloped you. It made all of your worries melt away and you quickly forgot about the carbonated garlic bread. "You look pretty," he said, shifting beneath you to make it more comfortable for the both of you.

"Thank you, baby," you said, just as the 5 red lights appeared for the next race you were doing. 

"What do you guys wanna do now?" Max asked as you had just finished the final round of racing. 

"Eurotruck Simulator," you said, looking Lando dead in the eyes. For some reason, it was one of your favourite games and you always got really into it. Neither of them disputed, and you were tanking down the road in your truck before you knew it. 

"Chat, how long do you think it'll be before Lando crashes the truck into another car?" you asked, watching as the replies from chat came flooding in. The general consensus was around 10 seconds, so that was what you betted on. 

Lando took over from you, his arms entrapping you on him. Just as you suspected, the truck was careened into a car beside him, "It doesn't turn! How am I supposed to not crash when it doesn't turn?" he raged, causing you and Max to cry of laughter. 

"Lando, it does turn, you just have to-" you started, but were cut off by another fit of laughter as Lando banged his fist on the table in frustration. This was a man who drove insanely fast cars at hundreds of kilometers an hour, but he couldn't drive a truck in a PC simulator game. 

You took over again, trying to pay back the debt Lando had racked up by crashing the truck a good three to four times. After a while, Lando noticed you were talking less and yawning a bit more. "Hey, you tired?" he whispered in your ear, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"Just a little," you responded while everyone was focused on something Max was doing.

"Do you want to go to bed?" he asked, resting his head on your shoulder and gently kissing your neck. "Yeah, I think I'll go. I'll take the plates then head off," you nodded, getting ready to say goodnight to chat and retire for the night. 

"OK everyone, we're going to head off now," Lando said, the chat becoming filled with messages saying goodbye. "You can stay if you want," you quietly said to Lando as Max also said goodbye. 

"We've been on for a few hours no, it's alright. You head to bed, I'll get the plates," he said, waving as they turned the stream off and said their goodbyes to each other over the call. Then, silence settled over the room. 

You clambered off Lando's lap and straight into your bedroom. You collapsed onto the bed and nestled yourself in the sheets until you were comfy. When Lando came in, all he could see was the outline of you in bed and your head poking out of the top. 

He smiled at how cute you were, and he was incredibly happy that you came on stream with him tonight. He knew you were too tired sometimes, which was completely fine and understandable. The chat loved you, and you certainly knew how to work the camera. 

All it took was one flash of your dazzling smile and everyone was happy.  "You need anything before I get in?" he asked, stroking your hair from behind. 

"Nope," you shook your head, wanting nothing but for him to get in and cuddle you. As if he read your mind, he turned off the lights and shuffled in bed beside you. You tucked yourself underneath his chin and wrapped your legs around his waist. 

His hand snuck up the back of your hoodie and his fingers gently trailed the skin on your spine. "Are you streaming tomorrow?" you asked through the darkness.

"Not planning on it, why?" 

"I just thought we could go out or something," you said, your eyelids drooping heavily as sleep was slowly taking over your body. "Sure, we could go for lunch, or ice cream. I'm pretty sure the fair is in town so we could go tomorrow night," he said, waiting for a response. 

He quickly realised you were asleep, and grinned to himself. The fair could wait till tomorrow, he thought.

A/N - Do you guys want to see part 2 when they go to the carnival? Let me know <3

|masterlist|

[miguelhugger2099]

Little Miguel, Big Miguel (Pt. 1)

In which Miguel finds himself face to face with a younger variant of himself that joins the Spider Society. He's not too happy about it but reluctantly agrees. And so ensues a point in time where there are two very different Miguel's. Lovely art in the middle by LBY2K99 on twt <3 Miguel x GN!Reader, soon-to-be fluff, Not proofread, Word Count: 1,734

Miguel was never a man shocked by things. Most things at least. Being Spider-Man, you tend to face all types of bizarre experiences and just write them off as another day for the neighborhood. In turn, it was really hard to stump Miguel and make him uncomfortable.

But this?

This was something he knew could happen but had really hoped it didn't.

He stood straight with his arms crossed tensely against his broad chest. His eyes narrowed but had no anger to them, only confusion, for a lack of a better term. He didn't know what to do with…it. Him? It felt awkward.

In front of him was, well, himself. Only a timid and incredibly young variant of himself. It was like looking in a mirror but minus 15 years. The little Miguel's demeanor was the complete opposite of the older one. His arms were glued to his side in tight fists. He was slightly hunched, intimidated and a little star-struck at his older self. The little one gulped and blinked his wide eyes up at older Miguel, which made his eyebrow twitch up.

“Jess…” Miguel spoke, his voice low and threatening. Jess was beside the smaller Miguel, a shit-eating grin on her face since she knew there was nothing to be afraid of and it was only mild annoyance from him. Still, she raised her hands up in mock defense.

“I just thought it'd be nice to include a new member. We have plenty of variations of Peter, I don't see why we can't have another one of you.” Miguel's frown deepened at Jess's words.

“He's young.” He retaliated.

“He's around the same age as Pav.” She gave him a deadpan look.

“He's–inexperienced!”

“Mayday is almost two and knows her way as a spider person already.”

Miguel grunted, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't want this since he knew what would come from it.

Jess placed a hand on the little Miguel's shoulder, which he flinched at, and gestured to him softly. “I saw him work before coming up to him. He's great and he seems interested. I think all of us felt something when we heard there was a chance to meet people like us. A community.” Little Miguel stood awkwardly, awaiting the big boss, which was technically himself, for his answer.

“I-If I were you, which I am, I'd let me in.” Little Miguel coughed and crossed his arms, changing his stance to match his counterpart. He lifted his chin up but then faltered, shrinking back into himself when the older Miguel snapped his head to glare at him.

Miguel tightened his arms across his chest and sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. I'll assign him under you so give him a run down on this place,” Miguel pulled out the familiar time watch and tossed it in the smaller one's hand. Little Miguel grabbed it with two hands and marveled at the accessory that materialized before his eyes, his sharp fangs poking out from underneath his top lip when he smiled at it. He snapped the day pass bracelet off his wrist and replaced it with the watch. Jess smiled and Miguel waved a hand in the air. “Lyla, scan him.”

Lyla appeared in front of the smaller Miguel with shock on her face. “Woah! Freaky! I was wondering when another grump would pop up.” She flickered around him, using a tape measurer playfully as she subtly scanned him. He took a step back with a small yelp.

“What are you?”

Lyla squeaked a small gasp of offense. “Do you not have a me in your universe?” She asked, plucking a clipboard behind her back and sitting in mid-air. “Surely you have AI. You're from a different 2099, right? Although, not a single AI are quite as spectacular as me. But I could be better–so when you inevitably get around to making me, I have some suggestions–”

“Lyla,” The older Miguel growled and she quickly flicked back to his shoulder with a grin. “Did you get it?” He asked. Lyla nodded and saluted him.

“All done, boss. The file on him should be uploaded by now for your viewing pleasure,” She bowed before glancing over at the smaller version of her creator. “Y'know. It'd be a little confusing calling you by the same name. How does Miggy sound? Perfect! See ya, Miggy!” She brightened up, ignoring Miguel's inevitable protesting by phasing out from the air, leaving just the three in the room.

Miguel turned around to face his console monitors, his cheeks darkening. His hands made quick work pulling up his variants file and pushing away other documents to look at for another day. “Dismissed. And welcome to the club, kid.” Miguel grunted, focusing on the task at hand, gaining information on his variant’s universe.

Jess smacked Miggy's back and he grunted from the power. “Alright, now follow me. I'll show you the others first so you can get to know them. They might freak out but it'll be fine.” She waved it off, leading Miggy out the dark corridor and back into the light of the hallways.

Miggy blinked from the sudden brightness, his eyes adjusting and slowly widening as he took in the place. He turned in a circle while walking with Jess, seeing various versions of the Spider-Man he knew from the Heroic Age section in his History books. “So, you all just…hang here as spider people? Saving universes?” He asks and Jess nods. “I never thought there'd be so much of me. Us? You?” He stumbled and it made Jess laugh.

“Yeah, we all pretty much have that reaction. It's a little overwhelming going from being by yourself to a whole society of people like you.” Jess reminisced of the first time she was recruited by Miguel when the society was freshly made.

“No kidding,” Miggy sighed deeply, still glancing around. “So..me. The older me. He's not just me in the future right?” He turns his body to pass by another Spider-Man, waving hi when their costume eyes widened down at Miggy.

Jess chuckled. “No. You're your own person. You said you got bit, right? Most of us did but Miguel wasn't.” She explains and Miggy nods along, looking up at her.

“Alright, cool. ‘Cause even though that's me, he seemed kind of different from…” He trailed off, feeling his spidey senses going off. He blinked rapidly, trying to find what it was trying to tell him about. He heard Jess call your name in a greeting. 

“What are you doing here?” She asked you. 

You smiled at her, lifting a plastic bag to show her. “Miguel mentioned he'd stay late tonight so I thought I'd bring some food and hang with him for a while.” You explained. 

Miggy looked up at you as his spidey senses calmed down after landing on your form. His jaw slowly dropped, his cheeks reddening while he admired you. He felt his heart beat a bit faster, pounding in his ears and his mouth went dry. Miggy would barely hear anything that came out of Jess's mouth even when she pulled him close. Your eyes had finally glanced down at him and he felt his heart skip a beat, his cheeks darkening even more under your gaze. Holy shock.

“Oh my–! Look at how cute!” You gushed. You clutched the handles of the plastic bag tighter and lifted the bag to your chest as you cooed down at him. “You look so much like him! Oh, god it's uncanny!” You laughed and Miggy nearly melted at the angelic sound.

He became nervous, his palms sweating and clutched them at his side rigidly. He swallowed through his cotton mouth and tried to greet you. “H-hi…” His voice cracked and he burned brighter, if it was even possible. He quickly shut his mouth and pursed his lips.

You chuckled. “Hi.” You introduced yourself, sticking out your hand for a polite handshake. Miggy hesitated knowing how sweaty his hand had become. He wiped his hand on his thigh quickly and shook your hand with a soft whisper of your name on his lips. He noted that your hands were soft.

You noticed it but decided to hold off on teasing him. The poor kid looked like he'd combust any second and you found it adorable. You took a glance at his suit and hummed in thought. “It's been a while since I've seen the original. It's a classic Miguel look.” You smiled and Miggy stood straight and puffed his chest in pride to appear taller but he was still just a bit shorter than you.

“Y-yeah, I designed it myself. No biggie.” He coughed, rubbing his nose and looking away nonchalantly. You and Jess exchanged a look between each other. A similar thought in your minds that screamed of potential teasing material for the other Miguel. “So, you a spider person?” He asked, deepening his voice and running a hand through his longer hair, hoping he wasn't sweating through his suit.

You grinned with amusement and shook your head. “No, I'm a little more special. I'm short on time though, so I'll see you soon Jess. And maybe you too, Miggy.” He felt his heart skip two beats and his jaw clenched. Hearing his name, even though a nickname, on your lips made him feel warm and fuzzy. You waved at them both goodbye and passed them to head towards Miguel's dark corridor. Jess watched you for a moment and then looked down at Miggy, where he stared shamelessly like a teenage boy would.

“C'mon, lover boy. We still have a tour to do.” Jess tugged his arm and Miggy stumbled before catching his feet and walking in the same pace with her.

“Who–who were they exactly?” He asked with a squeak to his voice, his cheeks regaining their natural color and his heart returning at a normal pace. He wanted to know more about you, a small crush forming.

Jess waved him off. “They're too old for you, kid. Plus, we'll get to that in a second. I really need you to complete orientation before you start asking questions.” Miggy frowned, not satisfied with her answer and Jess could only think how his frown was exactly like Miguel's which made her laugh to herself. Miggy followed closely behind to not stray from her as they made their way into a familiar area that smelled of food and made his stomach growl.

Little Miguel is very loosely based on the Timestorm Spider-Man 2009/2099 comic he's in. There's not much on him I could find so I'm making it up as I go haha. This is mostly for myself because I think the idea of them meeting is too cute to pass up teehee. This will be my first ongoing series !!! not much reader but i promise there'll be more hehehaha

requests are open as well !!! i can multitask >:3

[backseatsoldier]

"Broken", Not Stupid - 7: A Quick Phone Call

Pairing: alpha!Simon "Ghost" Riley x unusual omega!OC (13)

CW: Omegaverse; cult-like situation; dehumanization; selling children to a cult

Author's Note: Weee~ I swear these two are just using me as a way to get this story out. I don't know what's going on lol

"Keep eating. I'm going to step outside and make a phone call," Simon points to the window next to them. "I'll be standing right there. Tap on the glass if you need anything."

13 nods and slowly places another french fry between her lips.

As soon as Simon was in the exact spot he promised, he hit the call button. It rang twice before he answers.

"Simon," John greets him in a clear voice.

Simon's not sure when his captain ever sleeps. He called John first not only was he sure he would be awake, but also because he holds the most sway out of 141. If John thinks something needs to be done, it will be done.

"Need to run something by you," he says, jumping right in. There's a shuffling of papers on John's end of the line before Simon continues. "What do you know of the organization Salvation?"

By the end of the phone call John was informed of how Simon came to even know of Salvation and be on one of their properties, what he found there, what 13 had told him so far, and all of the warning signs he'd seen so far.

"What are you asking, Lieutenant?" His voice is tense, measured; he's also controlling his anger about this.

"I'm asking what we can do about it," Simon says cooly.

"We need more. Proof, evidence," he growls the words. "And your omega, 13? You said she's American so I'll get a hold of Laswell. Let her know what's going on, your suspicions, and see what information she has so far." John pauses. "This is going to take time, Simon. I'll also ask Laswell about some kind of therapy for... 13. She really didn't give you an actual name?"

"No. She's made no mention of it. First time she's said anything about her life before Salvation was that she was 13 when her father 'sent' her to Salvation."

The pure anger in Simon's voice was obvious to John, but anyone who happened to be listening wouldn't know anything was wrong without hearing the full conversation.

Not that anyone was around. It was after midnight.

"I see. Well... I'll call Laswell now. At least get her attention about it. And Simon?"

Simon waits, listening for whatever John has to say. His voice softened a bit so curiosity picks at Simon's mind.

"I'm glad you found an omega." Then the call ends.

When Simon makes it back inside, 13 has eaten about half of the box of french fries he was picking at to feed her.

"Alright?" he asks as he lowers into his chair.

She nods and looks at the tray of food.

"I wasn't sure which 'main dish' was meant for me so I just kept eating the fries," she admits.

Wordlessly, he pushes the chicken nugget box closer to her.

"Want anything to dip them in?"

She shrugs as she opens the box.

"Ranch?"

His sudden movement to get up to go to the counter seems to startle her a bit so he slows his movements. On his way past her, he rests his hand hesitantly on her shoulder in an attempt to apologize and comfort her. She doesn't flinch away but she does go a bit stiff.

Retreiving the ranch was quick and he gently places them in front of her when he returns.

"Thank you," she whispers as she peels one open.

They eat in a silence that is both tense and comfortable all at once. As soon as the food is gone, Simon cleans up the wrapers. Then he taps the empty cup he got for her.

"Um... Coke? I can get it-"

"No. I'll get it, just stay here," he insists and plucks the large cup from the table. "Ice?"

13 shakes her head and Simon walks off to fill the cup. When he returns, the cup has a lid and straw on top of being almost over-full.

"Do you want to sit for a bit more or go?"

"Can we go? I'm... I know there's hardly any people here, but I don't know when I was last in public this long so..." she trails off and takes the cup from his hands to sip from it.

"Come on," he tugs gently on the sleeve of his shirt he'd brought for her. "Get you home."

There's a flicker of something unknown across her face when he says 'home'.

John's right, this is going to take time. And 13 needs therapy.

Masterlist | CoD Masterlist | Part One

Tag List: @lucienofthelakes @lostintransist @demothers-empty-blog @scaredyspooks @tessakate @one-really-annoying-tree-rat @nerdyphantomtheorist @gazsluckyhat

[heich0e]

touya should NOT get in bed with you when you have as much as an hint of a cold, that man has the immune system of a wet rag, always heaving and wheezing. one sneeze and he's GONE, just a pile of bones and staples amen

but he DOES. (based on this post)

"thirty eight point three."

your eyelids feel heavy as you peer up at touya, standing over you at the edge of your bed. between his fingers is the thermometer he'd just plucked from your lips once it beeped to signal it was ready to be read, and upon his brow is an unhappy furrow. his bright eyes flicker from the digital screen of the device to you.

"that's a fever," he says solemnly, as though delivering the gravest possible news.

"barely," you rasp, your throat somehow both sticky and dry at the same time, though you're not quite sure how that's possible.

"'s a moderate-grade fever according to Harvard Health," touya replies immediately, holding his phone out towards you. there's a webpage pulled up on the screen, but you're too tired to look at it properly. you recognize the insignia from the famous university in the corner, though, so you take his (and their) word for it.

"i told you: i just need to sleep it off," you mumble, squirming around under your blankets to get comfortable. "if i rest i'm sure i'll be better in a day or two."

you finally allow your leaden eyelids to flutter shut.

"you comfortable?" touya asks after a moment of letting you get settled. it's not the first time he's asked you that in the past hour since you came home from work feeling unwell. he'd helped you strip out of your work clothes, crawl into bed, then gotten you cool water, and some cough and cold tablets and the thermometer from the medicine cabinet. he's asked you if you're comfortable no less than four times in the process.

"yes, touya. this is perfect," you reply, cracking one eye open to peer up at him. he looks a little directionless as he stands at your side, a bit lost. "thank you."

"okay," he breathes out a little sigh, kneeling at the edge of the bed and moving to lift the blanket, just like he does every night as he crawls in beside you.

"wait!" you croak, holding the edge of the blanket down against his efforts to raise it. "you can't be in here! you'll get sick!"

touya looks affronted. mortified even at the suggestion. if he didn't love you so much you might even think he looked mad.

"the hell i can't," he scoffs, tugging the comforter a little bit rougher than before. you know you have no chance in a battle of strength, especially when you're sick, so you let it slip from your grip. instead, you sit up (with considerably more effort than it usually takes) and place your hands on his shoulders.

"touya, no," you insist, pushing with all your might against his frame to keep him out of the bed. "you're gonna get sick!"

"i don't care!" he counters, pressing all his weight against your palms as he endeavours ever forward into your shared queen-size bed.

touya was always sick as a kid, spending time in and out of hospital throughout his preteen and adolescent years. his immune system has never been strong, and though any major risks of compromise are unlikely now, you still don't want him to catch your cold—he'd likely suffer more, and take longer to recover than you will.

"i'm full of—ngh—germs!"

"so what? they're your germs. we're supposed to share everything, aren't we?"

touya's not particularly hulking, but his strength proves no match for your weakened state, and before you know it he's tumbling into the bed right atop you—nose to nose, chest to heaving chest, and one of touya's hands on either side of your head to keep you from a properly calamitous collision.

"you're impossible," you mutter to him sullenly, but you can't help but appreciate how nice it feels to have his warm body in bed with you. you shiver a bit, in spite of your fever, and relish in the relief his warmth brings.

touya wraps you in his arms, slipping easily into place beside you under the cover of your soft cotton sheets. you're not quite side to side nor front to back—you're on your side with one leg thrown over his own, your cheek pressed to his chest, and he lays facing the ceiling with his arm wrapped around your shoulders to keep you exactly where you are. it's familiar. comfortable.

"yeah, yeah," touya replies, his tone easy and lilting smugly with triumph as it rumbles through his chest. his grip tightens a bit more. you don't mind it. "i know."

[renhanaschewtoy]

Favorite Bartender

This one also got away from me OTZ I hope I did okay with Strade. Pardon my translation all I have is Google. I'll write Ren the cosplay handler when I get back from a con next week. If you're at Colossal North lmk! 💖 NSFW MDNI

There was something endearing about dive bars, there was something exclusive about them in their own right. People knew each other, there was a decorum of understanding. Regulars were their own type and new folk, out of towners, well- they usually couldn’t appreciate it fully. The Braying Mule was well and good, always rife with interesting people, but nobody could be “on” all the time. Strade knew that. In his own time, on the quiet nights he decided to be out but lay low, not on the prowl, not looking for an easy bright eyed mark, he was in this dive bar. The name didn’t even matter, the sign was so worn it had been taken down in a storm years ago- the owner just never bothered with it. Regulars kept business in order and they helped keep the place in check. Strade included himself in that roster. Granted nobody really knew him, all by his design. But he was endearing, he was liked here. Maybe it was just nice to shed away a little, wear a different mask.

And sometimes, even he had to admit, the acrid smell of the place reminded Strade of his own little projects. Pushing open the door, Strade moseyed up to the bar, giving a little nod and grin to a few other regulars who greeted him similarly or with a small wave or raise of a glass. Settling on an old worn stool, he leaned on the sticky lacquered wood and inspected the beer taps.

“You can stare at ‘em from sun up to sun down, they still haven’t gotten that funny sounding beer you keep trying to pitch.”

A teasing lilt of a voice draws his amber gaze over to your form shouldering the door behind the door open dragging a bucket of ice to dump into the bin and let the metal lid clatter shut. A grin pulls your lips as always. Ah- you. The feisty bartender who wasn’t afraid to talk shit to anybody, get their hands dirty if need be, keep the establishment and all in it in line with a way that was firm but fair. Admirable. “Ah, liebling, I didn’t know you were working tonight!” Strade mirrors your grin with a warm chuckle.

That was bullshit.

He knew your schedule.

He preferred to be here when you were here.

Though of course, sometimes he had to skip out or change it up so nobody, or you, got wise.

You give a playful roll of your eyes as you deftly pluck a stein and pull a tab with the glass tilted at the perfect practiced angle. A rich dark dark beer sits in front of him on an old cardboard coaster so worn it should likely be trash at this point. “It isn’t the one you were talking about but…you must’ve worn him down. He got a German beer.”

“You spoil me!”

“All I did was pour it.” You chuckle and lean against the back of the bar folding your arms expectantly, awaiting his verdict. Maybe it was because it was your job to serve him but Strade liked the attention you paid to him. It was different from the other patrons and regulars. You didn’t snap at him, your lips didn’t curl in a sneer at him, you didn’t wave him off. No- you paid attention, you listened, you participated. All beautiful qualities wrapped up into once very enticing package. Strade gives a little contented sigh before lifting the glass to his lips and taking a healthy swig, setting the glass down and wiping the foam from the corner his lips with his thumb.

“Hmm…it’s good. Strong.” Strade comments with a nod of approval before lifting his eyes to see you look some pleased with yourself about it. You could say all you wanted, but Strade picked up your tells. You were probably the one bothering the owner enough about getting a keg of something for him. You sweet little thing, you. “Do you know what it is?” He leans forward on his elbows with a tilt of his head as a lazy grin curls his lips. You look away and shrug.

“I dunno something something doppelbock or whatever.” You fib lamely, pretending as if you didn’t care, as if you weren’t pleased with your little stripe of success. Strade huffs a chuckle and leans back on the stool giving a hum of acknowledgement as he takes another sip. “How much do I owe you then?”

“Nah, on the house.” He knew that was coming, you always give him a few freebies here and there under the usual saying that everyone gets a free beer here and there with their regular patronage. But that usually only held after he had one or two, not just off rip. He gives you that disarming smile that makes most women swoon. It isn’t that you’re immune to it perse, rather a little more used to it. A motion of endearment to match your own. Strade watches you idly bustle around the bar, serving other customers, fetching fresh bottles, wiping down the bar- though the latter, it didn’t matter how much elbow grease you used. Occasionally he watches whatever is playing on the TVs around the joint, sipping his beer- of which you never let stay empty for too long. You always insisted it was muscle memory and your years of working but Strade noticed that he was given far better attention.

Drumming his fingers on the bar, he lazily looks to you, “It’s a slow night.” He muses thoughtfully, “Do a shot with me. It’s too lonely to alone.” His grin splits to show a flash of teeth and you chuckle, setting down a few clean pint glasses with a shake of your head as you lift a small, narrow can to your lips.

“Sorry, Strade. I don’t drink on the job.” You admit easily with a languid shrug as you take a few sip, Strade’s eyes glimpsing down to the column of your throat as it works to swallow your energy drink. He wonders what your throat might feel like in his grip, how smooth the skin would be against he callouses of his palms. How your pulse would flutter if he applied just the right amount of pressure. If he kissed that soft, unblemished skin, perhaps left marks. What did you like, he wondered? Did you prefer to be taken soft and gentle, peppered with praise and coos of endearment? Or did you like to be roughed up, bruising grips and mottled marks to decorate your skin while you’re growled filth at and degraded? It was a curious thought he entertained quite often, even so much as when he did take a victim home, sometimes he would imagine you when they were face down in the cheap foam mattress, when their hair was in his hand as he bucked his hips into their mouths…but you’d be different. You were different.

“Mmm…what a shame. You aren’t allowed to have a little fun?” Strade flutters his eyes for a moment to focus back on you, with a curious little brow arched on your face as you caught him daydreaming for but a moment. “Come on, it can be our little secret.” He teases mock conspiratorily, leaning towards you on the bar as. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Ah, I just don’t wanna risk getting messy on the clock.”

“One shot won’t fuck you up, liebling. You’re made of stronger stuff.”

“...You’re not going to let up until I do, eh?”

Strade pretends to look half heartedly apologetic but you both know he isn’t in the slightest. And to him a foot in the door is a foot in the door, sure- a shot on your shift is but an inch and he would just love to take your world. To become your world. He watches you give an exaggerated sigh of defeat and roll of your eyes before a playful smirk pulls your lips while you fish two shot glasses and begin to fill them. 

Taking you, owning you, breaking you- it’s all part of the same pipe dream. As tempted as Strade is, as easy as it would be; you had family and friends, you had a wide social circle that was sure to garner attention with your disappearance. And he would be directly connected to you with this little song and dance routine he’s come to adore so. Doing such to you is a thrilling danger he can only flirt with but never act on. And that’s part of the allure of it all, of you. The shot glass is pushed in front of him, some of the liquor spilling over the rim before he picks it up and meets you half way in a cheers. “To our little secret.” He grins and you both tap your glasses on the bar twice before clinking your glass against his, downing your shot with the same practiced ease that Strade does. Strade watches you exhale through your nose before shooting him a smirk. “See? And you’re fine!” He chimes and you roll your eyes playfully before scooping up the dirty shot glasses.

Strade shuffles up beside you, easily stringing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side. He smells of the beer you poured him, of lingering cigar smoke, a cologne of spice and musk that's as oddly comforting as it was masculine. “I'm…uh, just around back that way.” You mutter with a blush rising over your cheeks and pointing towards the back of the block. Strade chuckles to himself and nods, leading and preening at the feel of you leaning against him in kind. His large hand gives you shoulder an affectionate squeeze as you walk with some amicable conversation and goofing as usual, Strade's charm laid on a little thicker as he feigns a slur as if it was all your pours that impacted him so.

Hours tick and tock on by before you’re hollering last call for the bar. Strade settles up his tab and leaves you hefty tip that you, as always, try to give at least part of it back. Strade shakes his head, running a hand through his wavy chestnut hair. “You’ve earned it.” Strade insists as you pout at him before begrudgingly pocket the money. Not that you weren’t grateful but it felt excessive. Not that it mattered to him. “Hm…Let me walk you to your car.” Strade hums as he stands from the stool and fixes you with an expectant look.

“What? I’m not going to be done cleaning up here for like…another hour. I’ll be fine. I do it all the time. I’ve got my means.” You reply, waving him off as you begin to collect empty bottles and discarded napkins or coasters around the establishment. Strade’s huff is brief, but he rolls his shoulders back. Maybe he was being gluttonous after convincing you to break one little rule. “Besides, nobody but staff after we’re closed.”

“We already share one little secret, what’s one more? Surely some help and getting home sooner would be nice?” Strade urges, already beginning to upturn some barstools on other tables and onto the bar counter. Seeing you pause and chew your lip, seeing him already being able to sink his hooks in you, in any little way, is simply delightful. You play tough, you’re feisty, but clearly you like being looked after, like the attention he grants you. But you relent and give him a little smile that curls your lips, looking almost bashful. Strade gets a better look of behind the bar, be a little closer, be a little more alone with you and ultimately that’s all this was about really. Fostering trust, drawing you closer. Though it felt as if he was more in your orbit than anything but he was loathe to give up that control. This could only go so far, after all. Eventually you both finish up with your tasks about closing down the bar and you pull keys out of your pocket to lock up the doors as Strade waits behind you, hands leisurely in his pockets while he takes in the stillness of the night, or rather early morning. As if you two were the only people left alive for a moment.

“Ah, your chariot, liebling. Be safe getting home.” Strade grins as you unlock your car and he reaches for your door with a playful flourish and bow. You snicker to yourself, that ever charming grin pulling on your lips as you move to tuck into the driver's seat. He closes the door as your car rumbles to light and you give a shy little wave before pulling away which Strade returns. 

Fuck does he want more. Want you. Standing there in the empty back lot he gives himself a moment to envision you again. Spattered in warm, sticky blood…begging under his hands for mercy…what kind didn't matter, tears beading your lashes, the way your eyes would roll back and flutter in agony or pleasure… Strade’s cock begins to stiffen in his pants as a shaky sigh parts his lips, lidded gaze watching your taillights disappear down the street.

×××

Perhaps he couldn't do all he wanted.

But there were some he could.

Coincidences were funny things, unexpected, sometimes happy, sometimes messy, Strade usually embraced them with his large open arms. The confidence of a man who lived and knew that he could spin just about any scenario to his favor. Tonight was a night he opted not to go to your humble bar. Sometimes, distance made the heart grow fonder after all and Strade couldn’t bear to let you make him go soft. Well…you usually had a different lingering affect but that wasn’t here nor there. There were some critical things he wanted that you simply couldn’t satisfy. Strade knew better. Nobody should shit where they eat. Strade was many things but he wasn’t stupid. So tonight was a little more routine, a little more…designed for the inclinations that you couldn’t sate. But Strade could pretend through perhaps someone who looked a smidge like you.

Oh goddammit. God, of course he would come over and say something- you made a point to make eye contact. You suck in a breath through your teeth and force a smile as you turn to look at Strade; toothy grin on his face and holding his stein close to his chest. “Hey Strade. Yeah, uh…got cut early so figured I’d have a night out.” You shrug, unable to hold his honey colored gaze for too long which seems to raise his brows, a curious twinkle in his eye as he sets his mug down on the table beside your glass as you idly poke at the straw and shift the ice around. The woman he had been chatting up wasn’t beside him but you could feel her eyes prickling at the back of your neck.

At a different bar across town, Strade was posted up a heavy glass stein laden with a dark doppelbock like you had last served him. Fortunate that the bar served something similar but not quite the same. It seemed to be the theme of the night as he chattered up an oblivious and bubbly woman, they had hair just a few shades off from your own- too (short/long) to quite fit you but Strade could make do. Their eyes were a darker tinge of (color) from your own, their smile didn’t carry that unspoken sarcasm, her clothes nearly polar opposite but that was the least of his concerns. Those certainly didn’t matter at all. “A shame you got stood up, truly. But I will say- their loss is certainly my victory.” Strade chuckles smoothly as the woman gives a titter of laughter, covering her painted lips with her hand trying to be coquettish. He leans in to murmur the final string of words that will put the nail in the coffin.

“Hey- uh…can I get a (preferred drink)? Thanks.”

Strade would know that voice anywhere. What were you doing here? Today was usually another one of your closing shifts. His attention falters as he looks over to you and catches you glimpsing at him with a rather annoyed side eye before turning your attention back to the bartender. Taking your drink you flash the bartender a grateful smile and slip your tip on the bar before quickly turning on your heel to disappear into the throngs of other people in the bar. Your lips set in a tight line as you skulked over to your friend settled up at one of the tall tables and you leaned against it with a bitter sigh.

You had no right to feel this way, to feel jealous. Strade was a regular, he was a patron where you worked. You weren’t blind, you knew he was good with his words, you knew he was charming. You naturally had tripped up at his charms but felt damn good that you’d never gone ass over tea kettle for them. Maybe it was foolish to think you had chemistry. Maybe it was stupid to have a secret little self rule not to date regulars- after all there were plenty of other bars. But seeing him lean over that woman, being so close to her, that lazy little grin he often gave you, the way the woman looked up at him so enamored…it made your stomach twist in taut knots. Your friend raises a brow inquisitively that you simply shoot them a look that makes them swallow their words as you raise your glass to your lips for a sip.

“Buddy! I didn’t know you would be here! What a nice surprise.”

“A night out, well- I’d say that’s a good reward for you, hm? Be served rather than serving? I could never forgive myself if I missed an opportunity to buy you a drink myself.” Strade places a hand to his heart in playful theatrics that for a moment make you forget your sour mood and a small smile quirk your lips.

“I mean, I’d hate to interrupt your night. You seemed pretty uh…busy.” You’d cringe at the delivery of your own words, a small grimace crinkles your nose for but a moment as your shoulders stiffen. It takes all Strade has not to let smug satisfaction come over him as he hears the bitterness tinge your statement. You were jealous. Oh, he relished in that, he adored it even. You simply had a way of always just making his evenings. Elation rose in his chest as a better opportunity presented itself in you. Sure- your beautiful blood would never paint his basement but if Strade played his cards right, he was more than certain he could make you scream and cry in other ways.

“And miss such an occasion? Please. This was a boring night until you came along. As always.” Strade replies smoothly with a toothy grin, “It isn’t every night we get to be on the same side of the bar.” And with any luck he can get you all to himself. Play the right cards, say the right things, get you wrapped around his finger, or his cock- whatever worked. You return his smile, your shoulders relaxing as you look up at Strade and give a little bob of your head to relent.

“...Yeah, yeah you’re right. It could be fun.”

“Of course it’ll be fun, have you met me?” Strade gives you a little wink before being interrupted by the woman who decides she’s had enough of being sidelined.

“Uhmm…I thought we were leaving?” Her arms wind around Strade’s arm, pressing herself against him with an exaggerated pout, trying to set a tone as you simply look between Strade and the woman, as Strade simply arches a brow to her, and your friend raises their brows to their hairline, sipping their drink with rapt attention as if watching some sort of reality TV program.

“Hmm? Mein Gott, wie peinlich…” Strade mutters for but a moment, his words and tone are genuine though some irritation belies the sheepish look he forces onto his rugged features. “Just a moment, buddy.” Strade gives your shoulder that same squeeze as the nights before as he places a hand firmly on the other woman’s back and leads her away from the table. Your throat grows tight again with an irritated exhale.

The night carries on, you getting a little bolder with each drink, every shared shot as you laughed and joked, growing a more and more affectionate with each little sip of courage Strade was happy to give you. But you were smart, you didn’t want to wake up hungover and with no recollection of this night. You wanted to remember whatever it was that you got from him, be it another simple walk to your car and a night of revelry or if it was tangled up in either of your bedsheets. And Strade was all too happy to oblige, watching you flaunt your mettle in the bar but being careful all the same as not to lose your head. Strade wanted you to cut loose. Wanted you to be as untethered and wild as possible. But maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Your friend had since excused themself quietly- reading the room and sending you a knowing little wink and wave that you gleefully grinned at.

Unbeknownst to you, ever the opportunist, Strade wasn’t willing to let the other woman go either. After leading her out through the alley and cracking her head hard enough to the wall to hear the skull fracture, she was swiftly bound, gagged and deposited in his trunk. A midnight snack for a later date. So when he returned with a reddened cheek, he had an easy story to spin.

“The fuck happened to you? Christ.” You remark, instinctively reaching out to his cheek before retracting your hand.

“Ah…well, she didn’t quite take so well to being told I…wasn’t interested.” Strade remarks with a roll of his broad shoulders and he could almost see that flicker of approval in your eyes that he’d opted to spend his night with you instead.

“Feels like I should be the one buying you a drink.” You quip playfully, nudging him with your elbow, you’re careful with your contact now, you don’t want to seem too eager. And that’s fine. Strade flashes you a grin of pearly whites before slinging an arm around your shoulder again to tug you close in a side hug again.

“No, no, no, I am a man of my word, liebling. Tonight is all about showing you a good time.” Strade chuckles warmly, the timbre of his voice sending a shudder down his spine that he can feel against his built frame. His hand slips from your shoulder to the cinch of your waist this time with a firmer squeeze, possessive. And you leaned in. Like he knew you would.

“I could go for a cigarette right about now…care to join me?” Strade’s voice is low in your ear, warm breath fanning over the side of your neck as he carefully tucks a strand of (color, type) hair behind your ear before his hand slips down past your hip to slip itself into your back pocket. A large hand gropes the plush of your ass through the denim eliciting a sharp inhale from you, a rosy hue blooming over your cheeks as you bob your head and let him guide you out the back door as the crisp night air meets your exposed skin.

“I didn’t know you smoke.” You look up at him curiously as Strade tucks the two of you into the cover of an empty side alley.

“There’s much you don’t know about me yet, liebling. But I could say the same for you, no?” Strade’s eyes glance to the side before returning back to you, leaning against the brick wall so cavalier, so unaware of what Strade could do to you, all he wants to do to you.

But he would take this, there was an outlet for later.

Sweet serendipity.

Your eyes drift up as you see Strade’s frame looming over you, silhouetted by the moon. Suddenly aware of how close he is to you, that you can smell his cologne again and your breath hitches slightly before you swallow thickly. “...Stra–mmpf!” His name is barely off your tongue before his lips crash onto your own. Hungry and all consuming as Strade descends upon you, devouring you as he presses you back against the cold brick wall, pinning you to it and the bulk of his body. His teeth nip at your lower lip, demanding entry that your foggy brain is powerless but to comply to. You can taste the bitterness of beer on his tongue and he can taste the sweetness of whatever you had been ordering on his tab. Strade’s groan is swallowed as your arms lift to string around his neck, fingers carding through his hair and nails raking against his scalp. He feels your back arch, pressing your body closer to his own, Strade lets a low growl at your willing surrender as he shifts a thigh between your legs, applying pressure to your aching core. Strade’s lips leave your kiss swollen lips to let you pant and catch your breath, rivulets of spit connecting your mouths as your lidded, glassy eyes slowly lift to Strade.

“Look at you, liebling…” Strade coos almost mockingly and it makes something tighten in you abdomen  as the vice grip on your hips moves you lightly as if to help you ride his thigh that pulls a ragged moan from your throat. “Mmm…needy, hm? Don’t think I didn’t see that…that look from before…” Strade mutters as he dips his head to kiss along the curve of your jaw down to your throat, teeth nipping and tongue laving at the spots to leave a litany of marks in his wake. Little mewls leave your lips as you squirm under his grip, wanting to be closer, trying to form words but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. “...Don’t be embarrassed. I liked it…I’m flattered.” Strade purrs as he feels your hips buck against his thigh eagerly, hands fisting his wavy tresses that sends shockwaves straight to his cock that strains against the zipper.

Large hands drift to the button of your jeans, popping them open and the draw of your zipper being pulled down that makes your lashes flutter. “W-Wait…woah, St-Strade…not here, I-”

“Mmm? Why not here?” He teases, dragging the fabric down the smooth skin of your thighs that you suddenly tried to clamp shut. “No, no…” He tutts softly, prying them back apart, “Wouldn’t this be just so perfect? We are in private…and if someone were to see, well…” His tone is alight with amusement, “They could be jealous instead…that I have you.” Your nervous eyes can’t tear themselves away from the sight of Strade crouching between your legs, forcing you to lean back against the wall in nothing but your underwear that he moves about to expose your throbbing, eager sex. “Behave, liebling…I don’t do this for just anybody.” And that might be one of the truest things he’s ever said. Control was always a given, Strade to take what he wanted, perhaps you made him feel…generous. All the attention you’ve fawned upon him in your own way, how pliant you showed him you could be- and only for him, that was something that deserved to be rewarded. To melt you, make you more malleable in his hands. His tongue traces shapes and patterns along your sensitive flesh, one hand keeping your thighs apart before one disappears to nudge a finger at your entrance before easing a finger in, crooking it against that spongy spot of nerves before thrusting slowly as he spelled his own name with his tongue in a way that had you fighting against bucking your hips.

“F-Fuck…St- shit..! Strade…!” Your breath fans out in ragged pants as you watch him lave attention over a bundle of nerves paired with a thrusting digit that almost has your knees buckling. “...’m gonna…!” You keen eagerly, lashes fluttering as he feasts upon you wetly, soft sounds in the alley with your muffled moans as you bit down into your knuckle to feebly stifle your wanton sounds. Pressure builds and coils tight in your belly, flirting with the edge of euphoria until Strade bites the inside of your thigh eliciting a yelp from you. “The fuck?!” Strade stands up fast, with a dexterity and agility that didn’t match his size and stature, that had your body falter slightly against the bricks. Strade’s hand holds your chin in place  as he looks down at your lips and your furrowed brow. Your pleading was so sweet, so beautiful…god- he could make you beg more. But for now…well, Strade has his ways, as always. “Strade, please…” You groan and he seems amused all the more.

“Open your mouth.”

“Wh..huh?”

“Open, liebling. I won’t ask again.” There’s an authoritative edge to his voice that has your core throbbing, leaking as you’re exposed in the alley. The thrill of it all sending lightning through your veins as you slowly part your trembling lips. Strade gives a low, rumbling hum of approval before spitting onto your tongue making heat flood your cheeks and a humiliated whine in the back of your throat. “Swallow. You should be grateful…you taste so good.” Strade watches you close your mouth, your throat bob slowly as you swallow and sigh before your breath is stolen from your lungs again in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moan greedily. Parting for air is brief as you feel large calloused hands gripping your waist to pull you further upright, shuffle you around until your front is pressed to the brick, the fat of your cheek pressed to the cold bite of brick but Strade seems to mind the pressure and strength he holds over you as you’re bent, pants now pooled around your ankles but you’re too far gone to care. You arch your back with purpose, pressing your ass back against his hardened cock with an eager obedience that Strade adored so.

“So good for me, liebling…like you were made for me…” Strade huffs as you hear the soft clink of his belt buckle coming undone, a calloused hand groping the fat of your ass before shifting your underwear to meet with your jeans below you before you feel the bulbous head of his cock press against you. The hand on your ass moves to grip your hip and keep you steady while the other trails up the beautiful curve of your spine, up the nape of your neck before his fingers tangle in your hair, the grip is firm enough to sting a little but not hurt. Strade could if he wanted to, temptation was there most certainly but he’d go slow for you. Breaking you in piece by piece with rough affections that would leave you satisfied. He could feel how eagerly you were, how badly you wanted this, and how readily you responded to his means. You whine with his fingers in your hair, pressing your hips back and urging him in. And that’s all Strade needs, to have you wrapped around him. And wrapped around him you will be. Until you are bent and broken, full and delirious; treated better than anyone one else. You were something different, something special. Untouchable but in a way immortal to Strade.

Maybe you could be something… special and more permanent.

He was already flirting with something similar in Ren back home but you…oh, what fun it could all be. Thoughts for another day.

With a sudden snap of his hips, Strade buries himself in you with a brutal thrust that punches the air from your lungs and has you choking on air as your body quivers at the sudden intrusion. “Ich kann fühlen wie du dich nach mir sehnst (I can feel you aching for me)…”Strade huffs with a smug smirk curling the corners of his lips as he sets a ruthless pace, the wet sound of skin colliding with skin, his heavy sac slapping against you with each push of his hips that you reciprocated in kind as your teeth dug into your lower lip trying to keep your sounds hushed but your body betrayed you. Strade bent over your back nipping at your ear as he stilled to more shallow thrusts to torture you further, “Just imagine, Liebling…someone seeing you spread out here for me…” He lilts in that low silken tone that has your walls clenching around him, fluttering with each filthy, honeyed word that drips from his lips. “Just a perfect little cock sleeve…just for me, yes?” Punctuated by a deliberate roll of his hips that has your lashes fluttering and eyes threatening to roll back into your skull. A sharp tug to your hair leaves your mouth agape as you tighten around his dick again with a breathy groan. “...Say it.”

“Sh-shit…please! Yes, please!” You nearly sobbed, desperation and want clouding all rational thought as you begged Strade, giving him the allowance to do as he pleased with you. Soft mutterings in his mother tongue left his lips; an assortment of praise, of filth, obscenities as his thrusting became staccato before a long, low growl parted Strade’s lips, muffled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Spilling into you with rivulets of thick, viscous cum while your walls milked him greedily, your own orgasm threatening to have your knees to collapse around you but Strade was quick to move his thick arms around your middle to keep you up, keep you in place as he pumped you full of his cum until it dripped out of you obscenely, forming a small puddle on the concrete. The vacant alley was only given life by the two of you panting raggedly to catch your breaths, Strade’s grip still a vice you wouldn’t be able to break from.

“Hhnngh!...fuck…just for you!” You manage to choke out pleadingly, trying to push your hips back but Strade halts entirely in a way that makes you whine.

“You can do better than that.”

“I d-don’t…wh…uh…” The brick digs into your palms as you try to collect your addled thoughts, of what words might appease him, “Haah~...mmm…J-Just for you, Strade.” You try as his name seems to be all that can fill the folds of your brain; his taste, his smell, the feel of him felt ingrained into you.

“That’s better…” He croons to you, however the feeling of you throbbing around his aching cock was just as torturous for Strade but he could be patient from time to time, when it counted anyway. Impulse won most of the time. “Taking me so well…” his breathing labored as you could feel him pressed to your back, hips pistoning with newfound vigor as Strade’s hand left your hair to close around your throat. No pressure is applied, simply relishing in the feeling of your erratic pulse as he fucks all coherent thought from your brain as he uses the leverage to bring your face to his in a sloppy kiss. All tongue and teeth, as if to consume you whole, that you would be devoured. “Mnnngh…hah…sucking me back in like that…such a slutty little hole…” Strade growls against your mouth as his hips slam against your ass so hard you were certain you’d be bruised by the end of it. “...fill you to the brim…” He huffs, a deep flush had risen from his throat to his cheeks, a heady look that washed over his features as sweat beaded on his brow dampening the curls that fell over his forehead.

“F-Fuck…” You breathe, slowly raising your hands to rest on his forearms, giving them a little tap, “I just…I can’t…” You were still trying to collect your thoughts and you could almost feel him smirk against your skin as you felt his breaths warm your sweat slicked skin.

“...Maybe I can interest you in a nightcap? At my place?” He hums, dislodging himself from your depths with a deep grunt as he watches you quiver and leak. You seem to take stock again, remembering where you are, as you quickly reach to tug up your underwear and jeans, pulling your shirt back down as Strade tucks himself back into his pants and adjusts his belt. You look so pretty like this, embarrassed but thrilled, debauched but dressed again- the tell tale signs of what- or rather who, happened to you, evident on the outside and inside.

“Huh? Oh, no…I don’t think so.” You breathe with a little chuckle and Strade looks at you, a dark and almost hollow look upon his face but for a minute that you seem to misinterpret. “Just cause my place is closer. C’mon.” You give him that fond, disarming smile as you dare to reach for his hand and lead him to the parking lot that has the brief uptick of annoyance assuaged from Strade entirely at your quick turnabout. He pushes a small smile on his lips before raising a hand to cup your jaw before holding the back of your skull and pressing another searing kiss to your lips.

“Give me your address and get ready for me…I just have to stop home very quickly. But I will be there.”

“If you stand me up, I’m pouring you Malort every time.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, liebling. You said so yourself, you’re just for me now.” He flashes you grin that holds an underlying meaning you can’t quite ferret out, but you giddy stride to your car to do as your told for a promised nightcap.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Chapter 02 - Destiny]

Focus on Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Warnings: the chapter ends in smut but the the cut is very clear so peeps who don't want smut can stop easily, so many fluffy sweet moments, a small wound, Tae needs to be protected at all costs please, Yoongi is so perfect i love him sm, Kook is the sweetest man ever, they're just a polycule of soulmates at this point tbfh, next warnings are for the smut: soft yet passionate Dom!Jungkook, sub!Reader, sex in a bathtub, passionate love making, lots of kissing, body worship, oral (both receiving), pussy fingering, sex standing up & from behind, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), praise, strength & muscle kink, he helps her to stay quiet in such a sexy way, holy fuck i'm his bitc-, cum swallowing, giggly aftercare, he is the safest boyfriend ever :(

Wordcount: 14.2k

a/n: i hope you guys understand why i couldn't possibly not include this smut in the mainstory I MEAN it's hot as fuck AND it's Kook first time with her without having to be supervised, it was necessary for the plot. have fun holy fuck i'll daydream about him until i draw my last breath 💙

“___, please come quick! It’s Taehyung!”

“What?”

It is the second day of your stay here and you are currently plucking weeds in the vegetable beds when Jungkook comes screaming and running for you. He is almost stumbling over his own feet from how frightened he seems.

“Tae. He. He needs your help! Please.” 

“Holy shit, what happened?” you gasp, dropping what you were doing to follow Jungkook to the cow stable. You are running so quickly that tears well up in your eyes and you can barely breathe. Jungkook is panting beside you, gripping your hand so tightly it feels borderline painful. 

“He’s with Moo. Oh god, it all happened so fast.”

“Holy shit Kookie, what happened? Oh god, what happened? If, if something happens in here he, he could be lost forever. Kookie, oh god, I told you to be careful. I, I told you, oh god”, you fall over your words, panting from worry and fear. 

You and he stumble into the stable. There in the corner, hunching on a stool, sits Taehyung. 

“Darling!” you scream, breaking out of Jungkook’s grasp to run to your darling, “holy fuck, what’s wrong? Tae, talk to me! What’s wrong?!”

“Look”, Taehyung whines painfully, “I got a splinter and it, it hurts”, he says, showing you his finger. 

You stop and stare. Stare. Stare. Look at Jungkook. He is panting, looking so utterly distressed.

“It’s so deep”, he squeaks, “and, and it doesn’t heal. ___, you have to help him. He doesn’t heal in here.”

You sag your shoulders, putting your hand so your hips. 

“Seriously?” you ask in a deep voice.

“What do you mean? He can’t get the splinter out.”

“I am scared, darling. I have never gotten a splinter before.” 

“You two deserve your bums spanked. Do you have any idea how scared I was?” 

“But it’s scary”, Jungkook insists. 

“I can’t get it out”, Taehyung stresses.

“Heaven help me, you two are gonna cost me my last nerve. I was imagining the worst things ever and you’re making such a fuss over a silly splinter.”

Taehyung and Jungkook pout.

“But it hurts.”

“What if he won’t ever get it out?”

You roll your eyes at them. Look at those two vampires, being sacred of a small speck of wood. 

“The gentlemen lose their powers and are suddenly scared of splinters”, you mumble and then take Taehyung’s hand to inspect it, “is it there?” you run your finger over the tiny dark spot on his ring dinger.

“Yes. I was filling up the hay when I suddenly felt piercing pain and now my entire finger aches.”

“I’m sure it’s as terrible as you describe it”, you say and sigh in defeat, “come on, I’ll take it out for you.”

Jungkook follows you, clutching Taehyung’s “okay” hand as tightly as possible. 

“You can really get it out?” he asks.

“I’ll try at least. It’s a very difficult task”, you say sarcastically, sending them a look.

“Oh darling, thank you. I feel so relieved”, Taehyung says and laughs breathily.

“Wow ___, thank you. I knew getting you would be the right decision”, Jungkook gushes, looking at Taehyung, “you’re gonna be okay again, Tae.”

“I know. Oh, I feel so relieved.” 

You roll your eyes. What a bunch of big babies.

Yoongi is by the front door, looking worried as well. He must have been in the middle of putting on his shoes when Jungkook’s screams reached his ears. He still hasn’t put them on, watching you walk up the path with his eyes big. 

“What happened? I heard screaming”, he asks, scanning his eyes over you and your two dramatic boys.

“Taehyung almost died”, you say with sarcasm in your voice.

“What?!”

“Hey, not cool”, Taehyung complains.

“Yeah, not cool. Tae is seriously hurt”, Jungkook throws in.

“I don’t get it”, Yoongi confesses.

“Tae got a splinter in his finger and can’t get it out. Now they’re acting as if it’s a life or death situation”, you explain and tug them past Yoongi into the cottage.

“Ah”, Yoongi turns to follow.

“Hey, you are making fun of the situation. It really hurts.”

“I believe you, Tae. It’s just not a reason for you to almost give me a panic attack. Upstairs. We’ve got something in the bathroom.”

You lead the way while your boys follow you.

“You should have seen Jungkook. He came running and screaming as if Taehyung was dying. I almost threw up ‘cause I panicked so hard.”

“I know. I heard it.”

“I think our reactions are very reasonable. We cannot heal here.”

“Yeah, we can’t”, Jungkook throws in and looks at Yoongi for help, “it’s really scary, isn’t it?”

“Don’t pull me into this”, Yoongi says, “I’m very well aware that I can’t heal in here. Why am I following you upstairs either way? It’s a fucking splinter. I wanted to help Agatha and Harald with the gate. You guys can manage without me, yeah? I don’t gotta worry you die on me?”

“Very funny, hyung”, Taehyung says and rolls his eyes.

You snicker, earning yourself a nudge from Taehyung.

“Don’t laugh at his joke, it isn’t funny.”

“It kinda is, sorry darling.”

“Tch, I am being bullied.”

You snicker, exchanging a playful look with Yoongi. He caresses the small of your back and pecks your cheek.

“I’m outside if you need me, yeah?”

“Okay, take care. Don’t forget to drink water.”

“I won’t, my love”, he says and leaves the bathroom with a playful, “try not to die, boys.”

“You’re not funny today”, Jungkook calls after him, while Taehyung pouts.

The door opens and closes as Yoongi leaves to help your grandparents. Now it is just you and your two drama kings. You snicker to yourself, turning your back to them as you get what you need for the lifesaving operation.

“Don’t worry, Tae. I’ll get the splinter out in no time. Wah you two, seriously. You almost gave me a panic attack back then.”

“Yeah well, it’s scary”, Jungkook defends himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He huffs out air, pouting.

“I’m sure it is”, you say and turn back to them with a medical kit in your hands. You look around the room. Because the bathroom is located upstairs and it is an old, homely cottage, the ceiling is tilted in the way the roof goes down. Only a small skylight window lets in natural light, making the room darker than other rooms.

“We should go outside, it’s really dark in here.”

“Yes, okay. Do whatever helps with it. You know better. I’ll get us something to drink too”, Jungkook says, hurrying away to be helpful.

“Okay, do that”, you say fondly. You must admit that his dramatic worry is a little adorable. You would rather take a person who cares too much than one that doesn’t care at all.

“Come on, darling. Let’s go outside where the sun shines”, you tell Taehyung, taking his hand gently.

He follows you with just a little gleam of annoyance in his eyes because you teased him with Yoongi. 

You pass Jungkook, leaving the front door open because it was a warm enough day for it to be possible.

Your grandparents have many spots where you can sit in their spacious garden. In front of every stable and shed, a bench with a small table invites one to take a short break. Under some of the tall trees, benches or chairs wait to be rested on and even beside some of the flower beds, something can be used to rest. You sit Taehyung down on the bench next to their front door. Pots of flowers and other plants surround you, right behind you a window looks into the living area. 

“Hold that for me”, you tell him, placing the medical kit on his lap. You open it, looking for the needle you know for a fact is kept in there. Your grandfather used it very often to get out little splinters from your fingers or toes whenever you got them during play outside. He always wiped your little tears afterwards and gave your small ache a healing kiss. It made the pain go right away and you went right back outside to continue playing.

“Got you”, you say to the needle, pulling out some sanitising wipes right along with it. You use it to clean his finger and the needle.

“It’s cold”, he says, watching you with curious eyes.

“Yeah, it’s going to make sure that you’re clean. We can’t have you catching an infection.”

“I could get an infection like this?”

You lift your eyes from his finger, “obviously.”

He pouts, “you are mocking me.”

“Obviously”, you tease.

“You are cruel”, he pouts even harder, earning himself a fond chuckle.

“I’m sorry, it’s my revenge for you guys scaring me like this.”

His eyes soften, he chuckles.

“I might have deserved it then.”

“Heh, maybe yeah”, you snicker, looking back at his finger, “I’ll begin now. Are you ready? I’ll try to be gentle, but it could still hurt a little.”

“Can I tell you when it hurts?”

“What?” you meet his eyes in surprise, “what? Of course you can. Darling, why shouldn’t you be able to do that?”

He lowers his head, “just so”, he whispers.

“Gosh, Tae”, you tilt his head back up with two fingers under his chin, “you can always tell me to stop, okay? You’re safe with me.”

“Yes, okay okay”, he smiles shyly, “thank you for telling me this. I feel more confident already.”

“Of course”, you kiss his lips, then sit back, “now, I’ll get started.”

“Okay, oh heavens, I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be, I’ll be gentle. Here comes the first poke”, you say as you begin removing the first layer of his skin, “how is that?”

“It tickles a little.”

“But it’s not painful?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s good.”

Jungkook comes outside as you are lost in the extraction process. He studies you and Taehyung.

“How’s it going?” he asks.

“It’s really deep in there”, you mumble, furrowing your brows tighter.

“Oh no, that’s bad isn’t it?”

“No, I’ll get it. Don’t worry.”

Jungkook puts the tray of lemonade on the table and sits down next to Taehyung, rubbing his thigh.

“How are you doing?”

“It doesn’t hurt. Ah”, he flinches back, “nevermind. I jinxed it.”

“Sorry, so sorry”, you look at him, “sorry, are you okay?”

“Yes, it pinched. Forgive me, I startled.”

“No worries. Can I continue?”

“Yes.”

Taehyung sucks in air through his teeth, moving his head away as if he wants to flee. You glance at him.

“Should I stop?”

“No, it’s just uncomfortable.”

“Here, I’ll hold your hand”, Jungkook offers.

“Yes, that’s good, hold his hand. I’ve reached the second layer of your skin so it’s gonna be a lot more sensitive. I’m trying to get this piece free so I can tug it out with tweezers.”

Taehyung holds Jungkook’s hand tightly, scrunching his nose in discomfort. You grace the needle over his skin. He whimpers and turns away. You stop instantly, straightening your back and rubbing his thigh softly.

“Do you need a break?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. Let’s drink something, okay?” you say and get the glasses, “did you make something yummy?”

“Yes, raspberry lemonade with fresh lemon balm.”

“Uh, that sounds good. Thank you for making this.”

“Of course, yeah.”

The three of you share a nice moment where you enjoy the delicious lemonade Jungkook made and look at the view. It also gives Taehyung time to decide whether he wants to continue or not.

It may seem weird to some and as if Taehyung was just being dramatic, but to you and Jungkook it doesn’t seem this way. Taehyung’s confession from your first night here is still in your head. That he doesn’t know how to be happy now that he is free and that pain was his reality for many decades. He wasn’t allowed to say stop when he hurt, he wasn’t allowed to make it end. Needing a break from getting a small splinter removed may seem like a silly thing to some, but it’s not in Taehyung’s case. It’s the first step of many on his healing journey. He can say that it hurts and he can stop it, even if the pain is just small. He can stop it.

It is very important to you that he knows that he has this right. You might have teased him a little at first, but you never seriously meant it. He is allowed to whine and to go his own pace. 

“I think I feel ready again”, Taehyung says softly after a while.

“Yeah? Then I’ll continue. It shouldn’t take long anymore. It hurt before because I’m so close to getting this part free”, you explain as you put the glasses back on the table, looking at his finger afterwards.

Jungkook holds his hand again, using the other to rub his knee.

“I’ll start now, okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

“Squeeze my hand really, really hard if you need to”, Jungkook tells him to which Taehyung thanks him shyly.

Taehyung’s finger feels hot in comparison to his other fingers because the attention on it made the blood rush to it. You remove the skin as gently as possible, sticking out your tongue in pure concentration.

“How’s the pain?”

“It pinches.”

“But it’s bearable?”

“For now. Do you still have to do a lot?”

“No, I’m almost done. I just gotta get this part and then do this.”

“Ah”, he flees again.

“Sorry, that was the last part I had to do”, you say, pulling his finger back to you so you could blow air on it, “does this help?”

“Yes, a little.”

“You’re being very brave, my darling”, you praise, “we just have to use the tweezers now. Do you need a break before that?”

“No, I think I can manage.”

“Okay, tell me if you changed your mind”, you say and get the tweezers ready, “you’re getting a little break anyways. I need to sanitise them.”

Taehyung laughs, having the exhale deeply afterwards.

“I, I swear I am not normally like this”, he says.

“Don’t explain yourself. We don’t judge, everyone’s different with pain.”

“Exactly. I, for one, may be a little bit too into it”, Jungkook jokes in hopes of lifting the mood.

It works. Taehyung laughs honestly, looking at him with shy puppy eyes. Jungkook chuckles and nudges his chin, flustering Taehyung so much that he needs to look away and blush.

“You’re not wrong”, you tease fondly, taking Taehyung’s finger again, “are you ready, darling?”

“Yes, I am ready.”

“It’s gonna hurt a little because I need to push it out so I can get it.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Here it comes”, you warn and push at the back of the splinter to move it.

Taehyung huffs out air but stays still, feeling safe with you. He knows that the pain isn’t evil right now. It’s not meant to hurt him, it is an unlucky side product of an attempt to make him feel better. He braves through the sting with this knowledge and after one last uncomfortable pinch, his finger is finally free of the long splinter.

“And it’s done”, you say, wiping over the reddened spot. You kiss it, “good job.”

“It didn’t feel that painful in the end.”

“That’s good to hear. I really tried to be gentle”, you say, cleaning the wound with a new sanitising wipe.

“You were. Thank you so much. It meant a lot to me.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m just happy to help”, you say, leaning in to peck his cheek.

Taehyung chases your affection with closed eyes and his hand holding your elbow.

You stay seated on the bench afterwards. Jungkook and Taehyung finish their lemonade and you clean the tools to store them in the bag again.

Yoongi comes up the path as you do, studying you. He took off his flannel, keeping it around his hips for now and is now presenting his torso in a black, skin tight t-shirt. 

“Don’t mind me. I’m just going for a piss”, he says.

“Good to know”, you chuckle.

“Couldn’t you have gone in the woods somewhere?”

“I prefer not to take my dick out somewhere close to ___’s grandparents”, he says as he takes off his shoes and studies Taehyung, “how’s the finger going?”

“Good. We just managed to get it out”, Taehyung says, showing his reddened finger to Yoongi.

“Just now? It’s been like forty minutes.”

“Tae needed to take some breaks”, you explain.

“Mhm, okay”, Yoongi says and goes to ruffle his gloved hand through Taehyung’s hair, “silly one.”

He doesn’t even realise what he is doing until he is already gone inside. Taehyung touches his hair, gawking at the door before exchanging a look with you and Jungkook.

“What’s gotten into him?” Jungkook asks.

“I don’t know, but that was really cute”, you say.

“I liked it so much”, Taehyung confesses with a blush.

“Gosh Tae, you absolute cutie you”, you say, hugging him, “I hope that this holiday can help you and Yoongi get closer together as well.”

“You do?”

You nod your head, “you’re both very important to me and I wish that you could at least become friends.”

“Oh”, he blushes, smiling softly, “I feel the same.” 

“You do?” 

He nods his head, “I truly wish to be his friend.”

Speaking of Yoongi, the latter comes back outside after his toilet visit, carrying two bottles of water in his pants pockets. He opens a third one with one hand and takes a healthy sip of it, ending it with a content sigh. He looks at the sun, squinting his eyes and sticking his tummy out in a cute stance. He almost looks like a cute cat trying to stand on two legs like this. If you try to ignore his exposed arms and his torso in that shirt and the fact that he can open a bottle with one hand.

“I think it’s gonna be a clear night today”, he says.

“I hope so, I wanna watch the stars later”, Jungkook says.

“Sounds good. You’ll have a clear view of them, yeah”, Yoongi nods his head and straightens up, “I think the gate’s still gonna take a while. The hinges are being little bitches.”

You chuckle at his harsh choice of words.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Just so. I like the way you talk.”

He scoffs fondly.

“I’m serious. They’re fucking with us on purpose”, he looks into the distance, “it’s good work. Yeah, a good day. It’s a good day”, he mumbles and glances at you, “what are you gonna do?”

“I still need to finish plucking the weeds”, you say.

“We still need to finish the stables”, Jungkook says.

“Mhm, sounds like good work”, he takes a deep breath and releases it, clapping into his hands as he does, “back to work. I’ll see you guys later. Agatha and I wanna make burritos for dinner, it’s gonna be good”, he says, kissing you and Jungkook on the lips. He ruffles Taehyung’s hair last, then turns to jog down the path back to the gate. Happiness practically radiates off of him.

“He is so cute, oh my god”, you gush.

“He really is. I think being here really does him well”, Jungkook agrees.

“Yes, I think so too. I think it does all of us well. We really deserve it, looking back at what we had to go through to get here.”

“Yeah, that’s right. We didn’t have it easy”, Jungkook takes a deep breath of relaxation, “this is easy though.”

“Yeah it is.”

“I feel good too”, Taehyung says shyly.

“You do?”

He nods his head.

“Right now I feel good.”

“That’s good to hear, my darling.”

“Yeah, it is”, Jungkook says, draping his arm over his shoulders.

Taehyung, blushing and entirely shy, leans into him as inconspicuously as possible. You enjoy their company for a while longer, then stand up to stretch out your back.

“Imma go back to the weeds soon”, you say mid stretch, which contorts your voice in a funny way. You straighten up, studying them.

“Are you gonna relax a little longer?”

“No, we need to go back too. Moo and Milky need their hay”, Jungkook stands up, stretching out his arms. They are exposed as well, because he is working in only a white tank top and cargo pants.

Taehyung is wearing a linen shirt, of course he is. He stands up as well, inching closer to you almost shyly. He tugs on your dungarees, looking at you with big puppy eyes.

“May I help you instead please? I don’t want to get hurt again.”

“Of course, darling. Can you manage alone, baby?”

Jungkook nods his head, “easy. We had so many cows and pigs at home. Stable work is like riding a bike to me. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

He makes you laugh.

“You’re so random sometimes. Well, see you later baby.”

“See you”, Jungkook says and leaves with a melody on his lips. 

You and Taehyung go the opposite direction to the back of the garden. Your grandparents grow their shadow-loving plants there. 

“Did you do a lot of garden work before?”

“I did. With Jimin and Ava when we lived on our farm.”

“Well, then I’m sure that you’re gonna do very well”, you say, kneeling down on the spot you worked at before.

Taehyung kneels down next to you.

“Is it safe for me to use my hand already?”

“Yes, it’s safe. The wound isn’t deep enough to be vulnerable.”

“I see, well then I shall work very diligently”, he says and rolls up his sleeves.

“Be careful with what you pluck though. We don’t wanna rip out good plants.”

“I understand”, he says and begins working.

You and he share a few moments of comfortable silence until Taehyung breaks it.

“I always wondered what differentiates a weed from a flower. Is it nothing but want? They grow and bloom the same and yet one is wanted, while the other gets killed.”

You glance at him. His hands are dirty from work, his hair hangs into his face, framing his pretty features.

“I never really thought of that. Damn”, you sit back on your heels, “that’s actually true. Why do we curse some plants while we marvel at others?” 

You look at the heap of weeds you already plucked.

“No, now you’ve got me feeling really bad for weeds. No, I might cry”, you whine with a sad pout on your lips, “poor weeds, I feel so bad.”

“Don’t cry. Oh goodness, I was being my silly poetic self again”, he gasps, clasping your hands.

“You really were and you’ve got me rethinking my own gardening habits. From now on, I will only pluck weeds if it is really necessary. So other plants can grow for example. You know? When I grow tomatoes I want them to be able to grow big.”

“Yes, that is a very good reason. Sometimes certain plants aren’t meant to thrive in certain places, but that doesn’t mean that they cannot find a place in the world where they will blossom.”

“Exactly. Gosh Tae”, you have to kiss his cheek, “you seem like your old self today. I love to see you being poetic like this.”

He smiles shyly, “I was being truthful when I said that I felt good. I truly do. Although, I feel rather weak. Oh darling, it was rather frightening to get hurt so easily.”

“I can imagine. That must have been weird for you.”

“It truly was. If something like this happened to me in the real world, my powers would have pushed out the splinter before I could have even felt it and yet here, I felt every second of it.”

“It’s so crazy to me to think what your bodies can do. Getting a splinter is so normal to us humans. Sure it hurts, but it just happens sometimes. But it’s totally new for you.”

Taehyung nods his head, placing a heap of weeds aside. He fixes the messy dirt, looking very peaceful as he does it. 

“Something which also utterly surprises me is how weak I am to bodily functions. I have to eat and drink and moments later, I have to relieve myself. And there is so much of it. Oh, being human is so utterly exhausting. One has to think of everything.”

You laugh, “now you’re just whining. Goodness, you are so spoiled as a vampire.”

“Indeed I am”, Taehyung agrees, laughing honestly.

Spending time with each other like this is truly wonderful.

The burritos Yoongi and your grandmother make for dinner are the best burritos you have ever eaten. With vegetables and spices from the garden and homemade cheese, it truly melts on your tongue. Jungkook was helpful as well, making nachos from home-grown corn flour and serving them with the best Pico de gallo ever. Truly, you eat very well, finding it difficult to stop because it is in fact the best dinner ever.

Taehyung excuses himself to the garden after dinner, saying that he wanted to paint the fireflies. Jungkook excuses himself upstairs, saying that he wanted to relax in the guestroom. You and Yoongi stay with your grandparents. You are cuddled up to Yoongi, resting your head on his lap as you read. Yoongi runs his hand over your forehead every now and then, lost in his own book. On the other couch, your grandparents are cuddled up together. Your grandfather has his head on your grandmother’s lap as he solves a difficult riddle and she is lost in crocheting. Sometimes you hear them exchange a little kiss, which always makes you tug at Yoongi’s shirt to ask for a kiss as well, which he gladly gives you. It feels so nice to spend time this way. Your parents were never affectionate in your presence, making you question if they even loved each other and in return, if that meant they didn’t love you as well. You don’t feel this way in your grandparents’ presence. The love they have for each other and for you fills the room with warmth. They don’t have to speak it, it is so obvious even in the silence.

The clock shows ten when you start to get sleepy. You try to fight it for a while by putting the book aside and lying with your face snuggled into Yoongi’s stomach.

He lowers his book for a moment, studying you fondly.

You snuggle and nuzzle, looking up at him afterwards. You grin, he retorts it. 

“My eyes are tired”, you speak softly in order not to disturb the peace.

“Mhm, close them it’ll help”, he answers you quietly, helping you close them by brushing his thumb down your lid gently.

You snuggle back into his stomach, while he returns to his book. It becomes harder and harder not to fall asleep when he runs his finger over your face and neck so soothingly. He even rubs your ear and plays with your hair as best as possible. It is quite frankly, impossible not to fall asleep. You sit up, smacking your lips. Yoongi glances at you.

“I’m too sleepy.”

“I can tell.”

“I think I’m gonna go upstairs already.”

“Yes, okay. Do you mind if I still stay up for a while?”

“No, it’s okay”, you say and get up, “good night everyone, I’m gonna go to sleep already”, you tell your goodbyes to your grandparents and Yoongi.

“Sleep tight, my honeybee”, your grandmother says without looking up from her crocheting project.

“Sweet dreams, my girl”, your grandfather says without looking up from his Sudoku.

“Good night, princess”, Yoongi says, looking up from his book to give you a kiss good night. He tilts his head back because you stand behind the couch, holding his cheeks between your hands.

You break the kiss with a smile, feeling your heart flutter when he retorts it.

“Good night, my love.”

“Mhm”, he hums, rolling his head to the front to continue reading.

Tranquillity surrounds them and so you let them enjoy the hours of the night, hurrying upstairs.

The door to the guest room is next to the bathroom door. It is open, showing Jungkook sitting cross-legged on the window bench and looking outside.

You were planning to take a bath, but seeing him sit here in darkness is giving you an idea.

You knock on the doorframe, making him turn to you.

“Why are you sitting in darkness?”

“Don’t turn the lights on, they’re too bright.”

“Okay”, you chuckle, “do you wanna be alone?”

“No, I’m just looking at the stars. You can see so many here”, Jungkook says and looks outside again, swaying his shoulders from side to side mindlessly.

“Can I see?”

“Yeah.”

You hurry to him, sitting down next to him. Jungkook hooks his hand in your knee and pulls you closer to him so your legs were touching and he could rub your lower back. 

“Wow, you’re right. There’s so many”, you gasp.

“I know. Look, that’s my star sign and over there is yours”, he shows them to you, tracing their shapes with his finger, “can you see them?”

“I can. Wow, so cool.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. You know, when I was still hiding in the sewers, I sometimes came out of hiding when the streets were empty. I sat somewhere secluded and looked at the stars. All my problems felt so small in comparison to the night sky whenever I did.”

“This actually sounds really nice. I know your situation was shit, but you had moments of beauty.”

“Yeah, I was happy during those moments. Maybe they were what kept me going back then.”

“Maybe yeah.”

Jungkook leans in to kiss your cheek.

“I’m glad that they did. I could meet you and our family because I kept going.”

You meet his eyes, “you are so sweet, oh my god.”

“Heh”, he pecks your lips, “you’re cuter”, he says, looking at the sky again. He smiles to himself, “I love the stars and the moon. I really do”, he mumbles, reflecting the entire night sky in his dark, pretty eyes.

He makes loving him so easy. You rest your head on his shoulder, speaking your next words softly.

“They’re really beautiful.”

“Yeah, they are”, he agrees and sighs contently, “so nice.”

You and he share a moment of silence. The night sky is endless. No wonder he felt that his problems were small in comparison back then. The sky is endless, reminding you just how small you truly are in the grand scheme of existence. 

“Hey, Kookie?” you whisper.

“Mhm?”

“Do you wanna take a bath together?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I wanted to take it alone, but then I saw you sit here and thought that maybe we could take it together. You can say no if you want to continue looking at the sky.”

“No, I would really like a bath with you, my honey”, he says, kissing your hair, “the stars are gonna be there afterwards too.”

“Yay, I’m happy. Wanna go right now?”

“Sure, let’s go.”

You and he undress as the bathtub fills up. 

“Can you untangle my hair?” 

“Of course. What do I gotta do?” 

And so you and Jungkook sit in your little robes as he rids your hair of today’s tangles, gently and with lots of care. He even massages you behind your ears and down your neck, ending the pampering session with a kiss to your shoulder.

“Did I do a good job?” he asks quietly.

“The best job. You only tugged on my hair three times.”

He chuckles, “sorry, I’m still learning. I promise to be gentler next time.”

You lean into him, practically melting in his arms when he slides his hand into your robe to rub your naked skin slowly. His touch never graces places he would need consent for, making you feel so safe and cherished.

“You’re already so gentle with me”, you assure him.

“Mhm, I can do better.”

You chuckle, “if you say so, my little perfectionist.”

He smiles against you, “I really am, yeah.”

The tub is soon filled and so you get inside together. Jungkook insists on holding your hand for support even if you could have managed on your own. You let him hold it because he looks so happy being helpful. He steps in after you, sitting down opposite of you. You can rest your feet on the edge and he instantly takes the opportunity to cradle your foot and kiss your ankle, even closing his eyes for it.

“That’s so nice”, he says, smiling at you. 

“Yeah, it’s nice”, you agree and turn your head to kiss his ankle, resting your cheek against it afterwards.

“Heh”, he lets out and scrunches his nose.

“You’re cute.”

He shakes his head, “you are.”

You and he exchange a giddy grin. It is so nice to be so close and to share this kind of intimacy. Your bodies are touching at parts and you get to warm up and pamper your noses with the relaxing scent of lavender. You can’t do stuff like this in the real world yet, so this feels extra special. Just you and him, sharing a warm moment.

“Do you like your baths hot or warm?” you ask him because you love listening to him talk. His voice is so nice and he is always so soft spoken.

“I think this temperature is good. You?”

“I like it hotter. I kinda wanna feel like I’m being boiled.”

He laughs, “that’s really bad for your skin though.”

“I know, but I’m here for a good time not a long time.”

He laughs again, “that’s not true. Not with the spell Meredith is going to show you one day. You’ll live forever with us.”

“Right. Maybe I should stop boiling myself then.”

He laughs a third time, making your heart race. Knowing that you can make him laugh that much feels really good.

“Yeah, maybe you should”, he jokes and grins, “okay, question time. Shower or bath?”

“Wah, that’s a hard question. I think both have their pros and cons. I would say showers though because they’re faster than baths. I really love a good bath though, don’t get me wrong.”

“Yeah, I agree. I prefer showers for daily life, but baths are special.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, next question. Liquid soap or bar of soap?”

“Are the questions gonna be bath based?”

“Yeah.”

You laugh. He grins.

“Liquid soap. I don’t know, but I can’t befriend the idea of using a bar of soap.”

“Interesting. I’m so for bars. They’re so convenient. I also think that they last longer.”

“You’re probably right. Okay, I have a question too.”

“Go ahead.”

“Dry off in the shower or step out wet and dry off on the rug?”

“Oh, hard one”, he says and tilts his head to the side as he thinks, “I would say step out wet and dry off outside.”

“Interesting. I’d pick dry off in shower and only dry off my feet on the rug.” 

“That’s good too. I’m just always forgetting my towel so I gotta run through half the room to get it.”

You laugh. He laughs as well.

“That sounds like you.”

“It does?” 

“Yeah, it’s a good thing”, you assure him, kissing his ankle.

“Okay, if you say so”, he says, gazing at you, “next question.”

“Okay.”

“When are you the happiest?”

“That’s your question?”

“Yeah.” 

“So no more bath questions?”

“I thought I’d switch it up.”

You smile fondly.

“When am I happiest?” you repeat, “wow, that’s a big question”, you say and look to the side to think. 

All the moments of laughter with your found family come back to you, all the mornings with Yoongi and Taehyung, all the sweet moments with Jungkook and the endless chattering you can do with every single member of your forever family. You think of the moments you spend in the garden and the hours in the kitchen spend cooking with them. You think of the nights of dance with Taehyung and of naps with Yoongi. You think of cuddling Jungkook for the first time and of hugging Hoseok. You think of Seokjin’s laugh and Emma’s silly jokes. 

You look at Jungkook 

“I’m happiest ever since I’m with you guys”, you say. 

His eyes soften.

“All I could think of right now, were moments with you guys, so that’s my answer. I’m happiest ever since I found my family.”

Jungkook smiles, “that’s a good answer.”

“When are you happiest?”

“I’m boring, but I actually have the same answer as you.”

“That’s not boring, that’s so sweet”, you say, caressing his calve, “is it my turn?”

“Yeah.”

“What made you get tattoos?”

“I always liked the look of tattoos. Not really when I was a human because back then, only gangsters had tattoos and I had a bad view on them. I got them in the early 2000s.”

“Did they hurt a lot? Tae told me that you guys would heal during a normal tattoo, so vampires need special tools and magic for them to stick and that it hurts really bad.”

“I could get them normally because my arm isn’t cursed.”

“Because your arm is still human?”

He nods his head.

“But isn’t that really dangerous? It makes other vampires know you have a weak arm.”

“Until now, everyone always thought that I’m just totally mental and got an entire sleeve on my vampire arm.”

You laugh, “okay that makes sense. So it really didn’t hurt?”

“They still hurt at some parts, but I kinda liked it.”

You chuckle, “of course you did.”

“I was just joking.”

“I don’t think so”, you joke, making him chuckle.

“Maybe not”, he confesses and changes his position. He pulls his legs to him, sitting cross-legged because the tub is big enough for it. Then he shimmies closer to you.

The water ripples, hitting you over your collarbones. You change position as well, keeping your legs parted so Jungkook can be between them.

“I started off on my under arm and added more and more stuff as time went on”, he explains, tracing his tattoos, “this one’s special to me because it’s my birth flower. Do you know this flower?”

“I actually don’t, sorry.”

“That’s okay. It’s a tiger lily. It symbolises the desire to be loved. If someone gifts you tiger lilies, they want to tell you please love me. I think it’s really romantic”, he says, caressing the tattoo, “I’m happy that this is my birth flower.”

“It fits you so well”, you say and trace the tattoo, “it even fit you when you had to isolate yourself. You wanted love, but couldn’t have it. It fit you.”

“It did. It’s destiny”, he scrunches his nose, “sorry, I sound a little crazy, but I really like the concept of destiny and fate and something otherworldly making sure that the right people meet each other when they need it most.”

“You don’t sound crazy at all. I love this concept as well. Honestly, my life feels like something big made me find you guys. Just think about it, I magically got a scholarship at a university where you all coincidentally pretended to be students at. Somehow former Sanguis, crazy old vampires with nothing to do, decided to try out studying and somehow you decided to keep an eye on them right in time so I could meet you.”

“I know, right.”

“And because I stumbled onto this path, the order of before crumbled and you managed to meet Yoongi, who in return helped you find your freedom. And if we spin it even further, Taehyung and Jimin found freedom as well. Seokjin found Emma again. And we all met love and bonded and became one big group and to make it even better, it turns out that I was a witch all along and now I’m being taught by one of Nilrem’s students and you have your very own witch to protect you. It sounds as if it was always our destiny to meet.”

“It does. Wow, it really does”, Jungkook flutters his lashes in adoration, “wow ___, this is so romantic.”

“It is. And the most beautiful part? I wasn’t even looking when I found you. I just found you and knew this is where I am supposed to be”, you say, having to giggle.

Jungkook giggles as well, taking your hands under the water.

“I love you”, he says.

“I love you too.”

“My heart is racing like crazy. I can’t believe how connected we have been since the beginning.”

“Me neither.”

“Can I hug you? I, I wanna hug you.”

You close the distance, hugging him as best as possible. Jungkook wraps you in his strong arms and giggles into the crook of your neck, cradling you against his chest. 

“What you just said means a lot to me”, he confesses.

“You’re so sweet”, you whisper.

His heart is racing unbearably. He moves back because he needs to look at you. He does so, brushing his palms over your cheeks in a soft cradle, scrunching his nose as he does it. He is such a gentle person. There is truly no evil in his heart. Now that he is just human and no curse twists him, it is so entirely obvious how being gentle is his natural state. 

You lean into his touch, gazing at his pretty face. 

“I think I need to get a tattoo dedicated to our family”, he says.

“Yeah? That sounds so wonderful.”

“Yeah. Yeah, but I don’t know what I want. I want something meaningful.”

“What if you tattooed how the moon looked on the day our destiny started?”

He widens his eyes. The galaxies in them grow. 

“I love this”, he presses out and touches your upper arms, “___, oh god, wow.”

He hugs you again, squeezing you gently.

“Do you like it?” 

“I, I love it so much. Wow, you’re so perfect”, he says and squeezes you just a little tighter, forcing a giggle out of you.

He is still so gentle with it. Despite his obvious strength, he makes sure that you aren’t hurting.

“I’m far from perfect”, you mumble into his shoulder.

“No, don’t put yourself down. You may not be perfect to yourself, but you’re perfect to me.” 

“You’re so sweet”, you whisper, melting in his arms. 

He breaks the hug, showing you his tattooed arm.

“Do you want to decide the placement?” 

“I can do that?” 

He nods his head, gazing at you. 

“Wow, this is so much trust you put in me.”

“Don’t worry, if you pick a weird spot I’ll change it”, he jokes, making you laugh.

“Wow, okay I see how it is.”

He snickers, pecking your cheek.

“I’m joking. I bet you’ll pick out a good spot.”

“Gosh, I don’t know”, you say and cradle his arm. You run your fingers over his tattoos, taking all of them in. They all fit so well together, telling the stories closest to his heart. 

“What are you thinking?” he whispers into the silence.

“Just that your tattoos are beautiful. It’s like your arm is a storybook telling what matters most to you.”

Jungkook finds it hard to breathe, gazing at you with such fondness that he wants to scream from the intensity of it. You might not have been looking when you found them, but he did. He looked. He spent so many hours staring at the moon and thinking to himself that he will never meet someone who will understand his silly, hopelessly romantic views on the world and then you came into his life. And you look at the moon and see stories in it, you look at flowers and see meaning in them, you look at the invisible threat of fate until it becomes visible and you can embrace it. 

You lift your eyes, meeting his gaze shyly.

“Sorry, I know I shouldn’t assume what your tattoos mean.”

He shakes his head slowly, “you’re right. You are so goddamn right.”

“Oh”, you fluster, looking at his arm again. The emotion in his eyes is difficult to accept. In a good way of course. It is just very difficult to breathe properly when he looks at you as if you were his moon because sometimes it is still difficult for you to accept that you shine to other people.

“I have an idea”, you whisper.

“Tell me”, he encourages you in a soft spoken voice. 

You touch the tiger lily, tracing it with your fingertip.

“What if you put the moon here? To make it seem as if it is rising from behind the flower. It symbolises that you finally found love” you meet his eyes shyly, “that you finally have someone who is worthy enough to receive your birth flower.” 

You widen your eyes in shock.

“Are you crying?”

“Yeah”, he whimpers and hugs you tight against him before you can react.

“Kookie, what’s wrong?” you gasp.

“I’m happy”, he says and does a loud sniffle, “I’m crying because I love it so much.” 

“You do?”

“Yeah. Wah”, he grunts, “wah, I’m so grateful.”

“Gosh, you’re gonna make me cry too if you’re being so sweet”, you confess in a fond giggle, rubbing his back.

He giggles as well, wiping his tears on your shoulder and lifting his head afterwards. You stay close like this. You have your legs over his’ and he holds your waist.

You wipe the tears from his cheeks, allowing a bright smile to wash over his face. He leans into the touch.

“This kinda made your face wetter than it was before. Sorry.”

He laughs, “it’s okay”, he scrunches his nose, “thank you so much. I love it so much and, and I love the meaning even more.”

“I thought that it would have to mean something for you, so I thought of this.”

“It’s better than I ever could have imagined. It already means everything to me.”

“I’m so happy to hear this.”

Jungkook smiles, touching your stomach before moving up to your shoulders.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

He grabs your waist and pulls you closer, changing the position of his legs so they cage you in and your middles are almost touching. He keeps his left hand on your waist, cradling your cheek with his right hand. 

“My destiny”, he whispers, sending flutters through your heart. 

You lower your eyes, trying to do the same with your head but before you can, he has it tilted for a kiss. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, having to grasp his shoulders and whimper. The kiss isn’t that passionate for you to have such a reaction, but your souls intertwined so tightly in this bath that finally tasting his love overwhelms you. 

Jungkook answers your whimper in a whimper of his own, breaking the kiss just enough that he could talk.

“You’re perfect.”

“You’re perfe-”

He swallows your words, kissing you deeply and gently. You aren’t even mad that he did it, letting yourself fall into the kiss until it is all you exist for. 

You can’t tell how much time passes where you and he solely breathe to kiss, where your heart solely pump the blood through your bodies so you could taste each other’s love, where every single cell in your bodies functions so you and he could connect. Perhaps a lot of time passed, perhaps rather little time passed, but what is clear to you is that through it all, Jungkook never once allowed his tongue to join the kiss. 

You haven’t been kissed like this before and it makes your heart race like crazy because it is so gentle. He is so gentle. The way his hands caress your body in its most vulnerable, naked state. The way he lets your weakened legs rest over his’, the way he pulls you close when you get just a little wobbly from your emotions. He is so gentle that all you crave is the tenderness of his tongue. 

You break the kiss for air, going back into it with your fingers in his hair and your tongue tracing his lips.

Jungkook moans softly, parting his lips to finally allow his tongue a taste. He traces your lips, meeting your tongue when you look for it almost needily. 

Not long and you have to break the kiss to gasp for air. He caresses your cheek, feeling breathless himself.

“Okay?” he checks up on you.

“Yeah”, you get out, having to pull him back into a kiss. Your tongue looks for his’ instantly. He smiles, meeting you with it moments later. 

He loves it so much to know that you are comfortable. He feels so utterly smitten for you, so ardently obsessed that he wishes to replace his air with your scent. He could kiss you differently if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t because your comfort is the most important thing to him. And now that he can finally slow down, now that no curse forces him to be ravenous, he really wants to savour the gentleness of it. He can finally make you feel as comfortable as possible. He can finally steal your heart with just a kiss. 

Jungkook breaks the kiss for air.

“My beautiful girl”, he whispers.

You giggle, leaning into his hands when he cradles your face to kiss it all over. You keep your eyes closed, feeling your heart race like crazy. He doesn’t leave out any spot, placing the softest kisses all over your face. And as he does, he keeps whispering the sweetest words, finally making you realise just how much he actually feels for you.

You and Jungkook became a couple just like this. One day you didn’t know each other, then time passed and you suddenly were so tightly intertwined that being apart was too painful to even think about. You couldn’t tell when you fell for him, Jungkook has no recollection of it either, but it is clear to both of you that it was always meant to happen. 

“My beautiful girl”, Jungkook whispers and kisses your neck. 

“Koo, oh god”, you croak, writhing from side to side. The tingles he sent through you were unbearable in the best way possible.

He opens his eyes, “need a break?”

You shake your head, having to hide away in his neck afterwards. He rubs your back, letting you melt in his arms.

“What’s the matter, beautiful?”

“You”, you fluster, “oh god, I’m sorry.”

“For what?” 

“You make me feel safe and it’s”, you shake your head, “it excites me.”

“Oh.”

You lift your head, “sorry. I, I don’t expect anything. I just love this so much.”

His eyes soften, he cradles your heated cheek.

“Look down.”

You glance down, “oh.” 

“Yeah, it’s affecting me too. You have no idea how much I’m enjoying this.”

“Oh god, Kook”, you let out a giggle.

“Yeah, I know”, he giggles too, caressing your waist.

“Should we do something about it?” 

“Do you want to do something about it?”

“Do you?” 

“I’m down for whatever you want.”

You nod your head shyly, “maybe we could do something about it?”

“Yeah?” he smiles, “god baby, come here.”

He pulls you into a tongue kiss, finally allowing his middle to melt with yours by pressing his hand to the small of your back. You moan into him, chasing the connection instantly. The angle allows you to rub against his base. His skin is so soft there, contradicting the raging hardness of his shaft. He is so hard. The proof of how deeply affected the long kisses and gentle touches left him makes you even needier. 

He feels the same. It is such a wonderful realisation. He feels the same. He does. You have to break the kiss after little time, touching the sides of his neck needily. 

“Kook I…” you trail off, wiggling your hips against him and whimpering softly.

“I’ll take care of it, yeah?”

“How?”

“I’ll show you”, he says and shimmies back, changing position so he is sitting on his heels. 

Like this, he closes the distance again, kissing you and smiling into it in such a sexy way that your heart is fluttering like crazy. His hands are between your legs, supporting his weight. He isn’t touching you, but man the way he kisses you makes you wish he did.

To make matters even worse, he breaks the kiss again, giving you a sweet smile.

You retort it, feeling just a little out of breath.

“Stay like this”, he says.

“Okay?”

He slides down until he is submerged under the water. 

“Huh? What are you- ah!” your hand is over your mouth instantly, your legs close at first but open wide again, trembling in the first shock of pleasure.

Jungkook is licking your clit. This madman submerged himself so he could eat your pussy.

His tongue is cool in comparison to the hot water. His licks are quick and placed without a plan in mind. You don’t blame him because he is underwater, having to hold his breath. 

Speaking of breath. Jungkook gives your clit three more flicks of his tongue and then he is diving up again. The water drips off his body and hair, covering his skin in a glistening layer of sin. It wasn’t always sinful, but the pulsations between your legs is making it hard not to see his wet body as a fucking sin meant to haunt you. 

You gawk at his lips and the sexy smile they are showing.

“How was that?” he asks in a rasp, breathing heavily to recover from his dive.

“So hot”, you get out.

Jungkook smiles even sexier and lowers his lips to your shoulder so he could kiss a path down to your breasts.

“Do you like it?”

“Yeah, so much.”

“Mhm, my pretty girl…”

He sucks on your nipple, tugging on it like this. Release. Your other one. Not a lot of time wasted and he is kissing a tingling path down your stomach. You arch into him, having to hold your breath with him when he disappears under the water again.

You release it in a shaky sigh when his lips lock around your clit and suck. You roll your head back, trying so fucking hard to be quiet. 

It is difficult when you have him playing with your clit with just his lips and tongue. Each time he lets go, the hot water reminds you of how sensitive you actually are and how his mouth is the kind of relief you didn’t even know you needed.

Up again. Jungkook gasps for air, lets the water drip off of him. He fixes his hair, his arms flex as he does it. 

“Kook”, you get out. 

He smiles and comes closer, pressing his thick thigh against your pussy. He places his tattooed hand around your throat, making you whimper.

No pressure, just wet, hot contact. He pushes. Your head falls against the edge of the bathtub, your body slides down and forces your pussy to rub against his thigh. Another whimper leaves you willingly.

“Relax, okay?” he speaks softly but with sexy playfulness in his voice. 

“Okay”, you get out.

“That’s what I like to hear”, he says and lets go of your throat to dance his hand down the middle of your torso. He scoots back so he can brush his fingers over your pussy, going slow but calculated.

You roll your hips into his touch, parting your lips in a moan.

“Relax, just relax. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Oh god, Kook…”

He gives you a little smirk and inhales deeply, diving down seconds later.

“Oh god”, you croak, closing your eyes in a sensual roll. 

Jungkook grips your hips and lifts them closer to his face, flicking his tongue over your clit as quickly as the water allows him to. He has his feet out of the water like this, resting on his stomach. He means business this time around, finding himself in a sexy fight between his own lungs and your willing body. Who will give up first? His instincts to breathe or your perfect body? Jungkook can’t decide what he wants. Breathing sounds fun, but so does dragging out your orgasm. Where’s the fun in getting you off after seconds? 

He dives up again. He didn’t need to, but keeping you on edge is more important.

Your needy whimpers meet his ears instantly. Jungkook can’t see your face like this, but doesn’t care because he can see your chest like this.

“You’ve got the most beautiful breasts”, he purrs, “my pretty girl, fuck”, he says and takes a deep breath.

“A-ah”, you cover your own mouth again. Having him return to your pussy never loses its spark. You have to writhe and squirm and arch your back, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to function. It’s hard to describe how good it feels to have him lick you under the water. There is a certain veil between the sensation and your nerves. As if the water is hiding away the true potential of his tongue. You can’t feel his spit, his slickened tongue and wet lips. The water hides it away, keeps it from you, steals it from you. 

Jungkook makes up for it with an eager suck until you clit sits between his lips and he can swirl his tongue around it. For just a second you feel his spit, his slickened tongue. 

You moan his name into your hand, rolling your eyes back further. Electricity is all you feel. 

Until you don't. Jungkook dives up again, fighting for air as his eager lips kiss up your torso. He is fixing his position again, whispering curses against your skin.

“Fuck, I tried to hold my breath for as long as I could, sorry”, he says and chuckles deeply, “I could have done better.” 

He drags his tongue from your collarbone up to your neck. You writhe uncontrollably. This is it. His slickened tongue. Your neck feels it before your pussy can. 

“Kook please”, you beg.

“Soon. Soon, gotta”, he takes a few deep breaths, “gotta breathe more.”

You can’t take it. You are so impatient. You stand up and sit down on the edge. 

Jungkook looks up at you between your legs. Water still drips from his dark hair.

“Please”, you beg and open your legs, propping one foot on the spacious edge and exposing yourself even better.

“Fuck, look at you. I’m actually crazy for you”, he growls and dives in face first. He quite literally and genuinely buries himself in your pussy, rubbing his face into her eagerly. His nose is so big and perfectly shaped that the impromptu facial makes you want to give him a different kind of facial.

Your hand is over your mouth again, you drop your head against the wall, curling your toes. If he keeps this up, he is going to make you cum with nothing but his nose. Oh god, this is getting you off so hard and good. 

“I can’t wait to do this in real life. I’m so fucking impatient”, Jungkook rasps, dimpling your hips, “Imma make my skincare your pussy once I can. Hear me? The others are gonna have to drag me away if they wanna get a taste as well”, he says and replaces his nose with his tongue.

He uses all of it. The precise tip, the wet edge and the warm flat of it. Jungkook uses every single inch of it, making you writhe and squirm on the edge of the bathtub. He might not be able to go down on you in real life, but in here? In here where no curse tells him to rip you apart, he is going to make up for it. He is going to drink every droplet of your pleasure, swallow every twitch, savour every throb. Jungkook moans into you, using his lips just as much as he does his tongue. His soft, pouty lips. He sucks and kisses, rubs them against you and messies them with your leaking pleasure. And as he loses himself, he keeps moaning and keening and sighing, sending the most back-arching electricity through your sensitive nerves.

“Holy fuck Kook, I can’t do that for long” you croak into your hand, having to pant for air afterwards. 

“Mhhm”, he hums, pressing himself closer just so he can grind his tongue against your pussy. He lowers himself, tilting his head back and holding your hips so he can drag his tongue all the way from your taint up to your clit. No inch of your perfect heaven should be missed out, no inch will be left unlicked and cherished. Jungkook needs to taste you, devour you. It’s all he exists for right now. 

“Kook, wait please”, you beg, grabbing his hair. 

He lets you pull him away, worrying that he might have hurt you, used too much teeth maybe.

“Did it hurt?” he asks, gazing up at you while his lips worship the inside of your right thigh.

You shake your head, “close.”

He smiles, rubbing your thigh with his gentle hand.

“Why did you stop me?” he asks and sucks a little hickey to your thigh.

You writhe, having to croak your words because of the sensation.

“It’s too soon.”

“Mhm, is it?” he whispers, guiding his kisses to your other thigh. He lingers on your pussy on his way, tongue kissing your clit slowly. The electricity builds quickly. Way too quickly. You tense and gasp and Jungkook is already gone, chuckling softly because you squirm from denial. He finally reaches your other thigh, cradling it in his big hand and kissing every inch of the sensitive inside. 

“You’re so beautiful”, he whispers, showing you his honesty with gentle touches. His hands are so warm, his palms so soft. It feels so good to be adored this way.

He lifts his lips, touching your inner thighs as he gazes up at you.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

“Yeah.” 

“And this?” he asks, brushing his thumb over your pussy.

You twitch into it, parting your lips in a silent moan. 

He places his other hand on your lower stomach and uses his fingers to part your folds, exposing your clit this way and brushing his thumb over it as softly as possible.

“Is this okay, honey?” he whispers.

You nod your head vigorously, struggling with looking at him.

“You’re so beautiful. You know that, don’t you?” 

You feel your cheeks heat up and your heart flutter in your chest.

“Yeah, you do. That’s why you’re being so perfect right now”, he says and lowers his tongue to your clit, sliding his thumb to your entrance so he can massage it as his tongue worships your exposed clit in precise licks. He uses his tip for it, forcing your head to roll back and your back to arch against your will. 

“Don’t stop, please.”

“Mhhm, baby…” he lulls, smiling against you and kissing your clit, “so sweet, you’re so sweet”, he purrs, returning to licking you softly but precisely. 

He closes his eyes, falling into the moment with you. His heart is racing, his tummy is filled with butterflies. He is so happy. All he wants to do in the real world is to love the people he loves gently. There is no desire for violence in his tender heart, no wish to be rough in his gentle hands. And yet his curse turns him into a violent, rough monster. This is paradise to him. He can love you how his golden heart desires, he can touch you how his loving hands crave. 

“Please.”

“Mhm?”

You touch his thumb, searching for his pointer finger. He gives it to you, kissing your clit slowly as he concentrates on what you are going to do with it. You guide it to your entrance and push, burying his first knuckle in your warmth.

“Please.” 

“Baby”, he moans and fulfills your sweet wish. He buries his middle and ring finger inside you, curling them in search for your sweet spot.

“Aah, Kook….”

“Is that the spot?” he asks against you.

“Deeper.”

He bottoms out, curling his fingers slowly.

“Not there.”

He fixes it a little, feeling it before you can voice it. Your walls clench and throb around his digits, your clit pulsates under his tongue.

“Kook”, you squeak out, holding his wrist for support, “there…”

“Mhm baby”, he purrs, squeezing his thighs together needily. He’s doing a good job. All his wishes are being fulfilled right now. 

You grip the edge of the bathtub with your other hand, biting down on your lower lip because otherwise you would be way too loud. He’s devoting his all to your most sensitive nerves on both sides. His tongue on the outside and his fingers on the inside. You don’t know where the pleasure begins and ends, it spreads all over your body by now, feeling strongest where you have his devotion. It warms you up so much that you can’t even feel the cool air on your wet skin anymore. It is also growing more and more the longer he stays between your legs. 

Soon you roll your hips into his mouth against your will, keeping his fingers inside with desperate clenches. Jungkook soaks up every shift, clench and shake. This is how your body moves when he is leading you to climax. It feels like a dance to him and he wants to learn every fucking step of it until he can recall it in his sleep. 

You taste so much richer too. Jungkook isn’t even a Ripper right now and he still finds it difficult to keep such a gentle rhythm. He wants to munch. Fuck, he wants to slurp you up until he can’t anymore. But he doesn’t. He stays gentle, furrowing his brows in desperation while you bury your hand in his wet hair and tug.

“Don’t stop, ah please.”

Jungkook moans into you from the burn of his scalp. You are losing yourself so hard that you can’t control your strength. Fuck, his cock is so hard. You are ruining him.

“I have to…you make me…Kook, I’m cum-ah”, you choke out, ripping your mouth open to scream silently as he throws you over the edge. 

Hard. He was so gentle, resulting in your orgasm to take control over you roughly. You shake and tremble, twisting his hair. 

Jungkook moans and growls, looking up at you with blown out pupils. His head is pounding from ecstasy. He’s feeling your orgasm. He is finally feeling it. One eager curl of his fingers and you feed it to him as well.

“Sorry, ah!” you squeak, squirting all over his face against your will.

“Ngn”, Jungkook gurgles, widening his eyes in surprise at getting his face wet. It gushes out of his mouth at first until he finally finds his composure again and he begins to basically suck it out of you, losing every single composure in the process. He moans and growls, sucks and slurps and rubs his face into your weeping cunt. He spoke of your pussy being the only skincare he needs and he is hellbent on showing you how honest he was. He shows you and shows you and shows you until you are drained and empty, now twitching on his fingers weakly.

“Please stop”, you get out, trying to pull him away, “no more, please.”

Jungkook breaks away with a sinful moan, stilling his hunger by kissing up your stomach. He grabs and kneads your softness as he does it, panting heavily because he is far, far gone in his obsession for you. 

“I need to live inside you”, he gets out between his wet kisses, “holy fuck, I need my air to be replaced with you scent. Baby, holy fuck, baby.”

“Koo, I’m falling, ah”, you squeak and slide into the bathtub.

Jungkook cushions your fall with a strong grip, lifting you on his lap even if the position is a little uncomfortable.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, ahm Kook, dizzy.”

“Lean into me, I got you”, he soothes you, rubbing your back.

“Oh god, Kook this was so intense oh god”, you babble, barely catching your breath.

“It was. Baby, I wanted to do this for you for so long. Oh god”, he hugs you closer, “don’t let this be over please”, he begs, looking up at you with obsessed eyes.

“I’m sensitive”, you whimper.

“I’ll be gentle, promise. I’ll be so gentle.”

“Can you kiss me first, please?” 

“Of course, baby. Of course, holy fuck of course. My baby, oh my baby.”

Jungkook lifts you off his lap so he can lie you down in the water, using his hand as your pillow so you wouldn’t dive under. He keeps his other arm around your waist, pressing you against his torso as he claims your lips in a kiss.

You are so utterly under his control right now. If he decides to drop you, the water would swallow you whole. He is giving you oxygen just as much as he is stealing it with every kiss. His lips taste like you, his tongue feeds it to you in sensual licks. His face smells just a little like you as well, messing up your sanity. He kisses you until you ache between your legs and the thought of having him inside is the only thing running through your scrambled mind. A lot of time passed before you felt ready and the realisation that Jungkook was willing to wait despite his aching desire makes you want him even more. He is willing to wait for you, he is seeing your comfort as a priority. You need him to fuck you violently, quite frankly, it is difficult not to when he is being such a safe space.

You break the kiss, “fuck me, please.”

“Really?” his voice is shaking as he speaks, “are you sure?”

“Yes, please.”

Jungkook pulls you up with him, swiping the water out your face. He can barely breathe, panting like crazy.

“Are you really sure, baby?”

“Yeah, so sure.”

He laughs breathily and shakily, gazing at you with blown out pupils and flushed cheeks. He can’t stop cradling your cheeks. He does it over and over again. Letting go, cradling, letting go, cradling.  He is so utterly smitten for you and it is so sweetly obvious to you.

“How do you want me?” he asks, exhaling shakily when you touch his chest. Your fingers rub his nipples mindlessly, forcing his cock to twitch repeatedly. 

“Take me how you want to”, you make submissive eyes at him, “please, I trust you.”

“You”, he cradles your face, widening his eyes, “I’m fucking obsessed with you. Holy fuck.” 

“Then fuck me like you mean it, please.”

He gulps and nods his head vigorously.

“Fuck, this is hot”, he laughs breathily, “okay so uhm. Stand up”, he orders.

You obey, feeling your knees wobble when he pulls you close by the small of your back and kisses you. His left hand is still on your back, his right is holding the back of your head. You are skin to skin, body to body. No distance. Just wet, heated contact. It gets you off just as good as the best fuck would. Your hands are restless. Where to touch? His neck, his shoulders, his arms, his big chest or small waist? You can’t touch him like this in the real world and you don’t know where to start now that you can.

You are so far apart in real life. So fucking far apart because his veins are filled with a curse. You want to be how you are right now but can’t. It’s impossible to decide on which spot to touch first now that the only thing filling your veins is obsessive pleasure.

You somehow end up fondling his chest however. It feels so strong and big between your fingers.

Jungkook breaks the kiss with a moan when your fingers find his nipples. His puffy lips stay parted, he lulls his words as he looks at you half lidded and droopy.

“This is doing something for me.”

“It is?” you croak, feeling your stomach tighten.

“Yeah, you’re touching me so fucking good.”

“Kook, oh god.”

“Mhm”, he purrs and grabs your waist, “do you want to turn around?”

You obey happily. Jungkook takes your hands and places them on the wall next to your head. He touches your torso until he can hold your right leg. He lifts it, guiding it so you stand on the edge of the bathtub. 

Then he finally steps closer, caressing your waist and kissing your neck.

“Stay like this, my beautiful honey”, he orders in a loving whisper.

“Mh-hm”, you whimper.

“Do you want to stay like this, mhm? Can I fill that pretty pussy of yours like this?”

“Please”, you beg, nodding your head vigorously.

“Mhm, I love when you’re begging me, babygirl”, he says and steps back.

He spits on his own cock, spreading it quickly so he can get to where he actually wants to be. He drags his cock down your ass until he finally has your wet entrance against his tip.

“I can call you babygirl, can’t I?” he asks.

“Ye-aAh”, you moan loudly in sync with Jungkook sinking into you.

“Shit, so tight”, he rasps, placing his hands over yours and pinning you against the wall like this, “breathe babygirl, you’re not hurting are you?” 

“No”, you croak and drop your cheek against the cold tile, “I love cock so much, oh god”, you get out and sob softly, arching your back so he can slip deeper. 

Jungkook bottoms out, caging you in between his strong body and the wall. He is burning up, squeezing your hands. 

“You love cock?”

You nod your head vigorously. 

“Mhm, babygirl….” he purrs and begins to roll his hips into you, making you moan and whimper instantly, “lucky for you, I’ve got what you want. Does that do something for you, babygirl?”

“Yea-ah.”

“Course it does. Such a good girl, you’re made for me. Made for my cock”, he rasps, putting emphasis on the last word by pressing his cock right against your sweet spot.

You sway uncontrollably, trying to claw for support. He gives it to you by pinning you tighter against the wall, holding your hip with a strong grip.

“Too rough?”

“No”, you mewl, fucking back onto him, “please don’t stop, please.”

“I’m not gonna stop. You feel so good, babygirl. So fucking good.”

He is right. This feels so good. Your bodies are so close, you feel every thrust. The position gives you a natural tightness, resulting in you to feel every inch of his cock going in and out of you. You feel the shift of your tightness tugging his skin over his tip, feel his veins and the throbbing of them whenever he is especially deep. This is so good. He is so right for saying that. This feels so good. 

“You’re so perfect, holy fuck, you’re perfect”, Jungkook pants, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He lets go of your right hand, painting an adoring touch down your torso until he has your clit under his fingers.

Your knees buckle, he pulls you back up, keeping his grip on your hip and moaning into you when you reach behind you to bury your hands in his hair. 

“Jungkook”, his name from your lips feels like ecstasy to him.

He keeps his fingers still on clit, using the natural movements of your hips to pleasure you. You begin chasing him even needier, now running after the warmth of his touch and the electricity of his cock. 

“Do you like this?” 

“Koo, help me”, you beg, having to fight your own voice.

“What do you need?”

“Can’t stay quiet.”

“Mhm baby”, he purrs and presses you against his chest, placing his left hand over your mouth.

“I’ve got you. Let go, I’m keeping you quiet, let go”, he growls, drilling you so, so good that you actually moan into his hand.

You grip his strong lower arm, tattooing nail marks on his empty skin. Your eyes roll back when his cock hits your deepest spots, knees buckling as he is the only one keeping you standing. 

“That’s my girl, moan for me. I’m keeping you quiet, keeping it all for myself. Fuck, your pussy’s heaven on earth.”

You are falling into him and the pleasure he gives you. Now that he is keeping you quiet, you can finally let go. And how you let go. His touch feels like paradise, his cock truly seals the deal. There is nothing holding you back anymore and it feels as if you are floating away on pleasure.

“My destiny, my girl, my everything”, Jungkook chants, living on nothing but your scent. He doesn’t keep his fingers still on your clit anymore. He is too desperate for it, too obsessed with every second. He hopes that you like it. He hopes that you get off on it because it is the main reason he does it. He gets off on getting you off. It is the proof that he is destined for tenderness, that his hands can do good and not just hurt. He is making you shake and it isn’t from fear but ecstasy. 

You drool into his hand, mewling his name because he rubs your clit just right. It is so difficult to stand when he is quite literally forcing your legs to stop working. You want to crumble and fall down with your legs spread so he could do whatever he wants with them. 

“Lean into me, don’t worry I’ve got you”, he tells you with a shaky voice. The shakes are timed with his deep grinds into your warmth. He can’t thrust a lot in this position, but neither of you care because his cock sits just right to massage your favourite spots. Which it return, makes your needy pussy suck on his cock in desperate clenches. Truly neither of you care that he can’t thrust, grinding against each other as he makes it harder and harder for you to stand. 

You tug his hand away from your mouth.

“I have to cum”, you choke out.

“Let go, I’m here.”

“You, you, you have to hold me, I’m so…ah…weak”, you stutter and feel the knot break, losing all strength instantly. 

Jungkook pulls you against him, keeping you standing easily.

“Relax, I’ve got you. I, I’ve…holy fuck, you feel so good. Holy fuck”, he moans, scrunching his face as your pussy pulsates around him. 

He treats you so well, is so strong and gentle that your emotions make you orgasm even harder, resulting in your seemingly drained body to wet his cock as well. It runs down your legs and his thighs, trickling into the water loudly. 

You have to bite his hand because otherwise you would scream.

“Holy shit, you’re so hot. Oh god baby, I have to cum too”, he croaks, “please fuck, please, baby, please.” 

You tug his hand away again, “cum for me, please.”

“Urgh fuck”, he growls and pulls out quickly to jerk off his cock. You turn around even if it is difficult, gawking at him in surprise because you expected his seed. He meets your eyes, his face is tight in concentrated pleasure, “just in case. We’re human here.”

He is so fucking considerate. Holy fuck.

“Kook”, you moan and fall down onto your knees, dragging your hands down his big thighs.

“Huh?” 

You tilt your head back and open your mouth. 

“Seriously?” he squeaks.

You nod your head. 

“Holy fuck, baby”, he moans and takes your head to guide your mouth onto his cock. He fits into you easily because he is only human right now. 

He wants to be considerate and only feed you his tip, but you sink down deeper until you have him at the back of your tongue just about where your gag reflex would start. You slide your other to his balls and shaft, playing with what you can’t fit while your eyes gaze up at him. You begin bopping your head up and down, sucking as best as possible. 

Jungkook’s knees buckle, he finds support by slamming his hands against the wall. He opens his mouth, letting out a shaky “a-ah” before closing his mouth again and furrowing his brows. 

His fingers deepen in your hair, his lids flutter. 

You suck on his tip as harshly as you can, making him growl before he remembers that he has to be quiet and he whimpers instead.

“Soon, really soon.”

He is throbbing in your mouth. You slide your hand up his shaft to get a good grip so you can pull his foreskin back and expose his tip even better. With his tip exposed, all his most sensitive nerves are sitting on your tongue, getting licked and sucked as you fuck your face with him.

“Now”, of course it sets him off. Of course it does. It feels so good to him. Jungkook rolls his eyes back and throws his head back, climaxing down your throat with a squeak of your name. His fingers tremble in your hair, his shaky legs can barely keep him standing.

You mewl around him, swallowing every single droplet your mouth can fit. The rest, you let trickle out of you, soiling your chin and chest. You are so hungry for him and show him until he is sucked dry and he has to flee in overstimulation.

He drops to his knees loudly, “holy fuck”, he croaks and pulls you into a kiss. You are both kneeling, pushing and pulling each other to get closer. He doesn’t even care that your mouth was still filled with his cum, licking it out of you hungrily as he floats on the afterglow with you. 

You recover like this. Kissing and touching each other. You go from sloppy, needy tongue kisses to slower yet needy kisses until you reach gentle, little kisses and caresses. 

Enough time passed that you and he feel a little chilly already, hugging each other to get warm.

“This was amazing”, he says and lies down in the water, pulling you with him so you rest between his legs with your head on his chest.

“Yeah, it was.” 

“How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

“No, I feel so good, just really tired.”

“Yeah, me too. Wanna clean up and then get under the sheets?”

“Yeah.”

You and he wash each other with fresh water, you dry each other and help each other with your hair. And as you take care of each other like good lovers should do after such a moment of passion, you talk about said moment. Jungkook shares with you how he dreams of being like this with you in the real world and you assure him that one day he will. You share with him that when you first started having sex you found it scary at first to give yourself in submission but that he and the others make you feel really safe to which he holds you gently and thanks you for allowing him the privilege of seeing you this way. 

Then you leave for your bedroom, holding hands as you do.

You are already under the blanket and Jungkook is in the midst of climbing inside when you stop him.

“Hey, Kookie?”

“Yes?”

“Can you get me some water? I’m so thirsty.”

“Of course, I’ll get it”, he says and leaves the room after kissing your forehead and putting on pants.

You are fighting sleep when he comes back a few moments later. He fucked you so good that you’re really exhausted now, fluttering your eyes at him sleepily.

“You won’t believe what I just witnessed downstairs”, he says, handing you the glass of water. You sit up, accepting it.

“What?” you ask, drinking the water gladly.

He takes off his pants and climbs into bed.

“Taehyung and Yoongi had a bonfire outside and apparently they talked it out. They’re friends now.”

“Really?” you gasp, feeling your heart flutter.

“Yeah, they’re washing the dishes downstairs and they’re talking.”

“Oh my god”, you get out, “oh my god, I’m so happy right now. I really wished for them to be friends again.”

“Yeah, me too”, he says and places the empty glass on the bedside table after you handed it to him.

You and he lie down, cuddling together under the blanket. Jungkook turns off the light and wraps his arms around you afterwards, tracing your spine slowly.

“Did you actually see them?” you ask quietly.

“Yeah, I talked to them and they told me.”

“Wow, this is so amazing. I’m so happy”, you whisper and cuddle closer, “I love you so much. All of you.”

It is the last thing you want to share before sleep drags you down. 

Jungkook smiles, kissing the crown of your head.

“I love you too. The others love you too”, he whispers, rubbing your back, “sleep tight, my gentle destiny.”

[kaijuno]

My name is Spike Cohen, and I ate 10 pounds of food.

Last Sunday, I went to a hibachi restaurant with my wife, my mother and my cousins to celebrate Mom's birthday.

If you've ever been to a hibachi restaurant, you know that they give you an insane amount of rice.

I usually eat a keto diet. This day would be an obvious exception.

I hadn't eaten all day, so I decided to order extra scallops, in case the laughably large amount of food they give wasn't enough.

My wife doesn't eat rice, so I got her portion too. I knew that going into this struggle.

She also had them give me her shrimp. That, I hadn't anticipated.

But I'm a man, and that really doesn't excuse any of this but I'm going to say it anyway.

When my cousin Sherri asked the chef to give me her rice portion as well, I knew that I was in danger.

As the food continued to pile onto my plate, I had to form a mesa of sorts with the rice, so that the shrimp, scallops, and vegetables wouldn't fall off.

Because God forbid I neglect to eat any of it.

A pile of food would come. I'd eat it, and then get back to chipping away at my Rice Mesa.

And then another pile of food would come.

And then another.

I felt like Sisyphus, except his task at least made him more fit.

Mine put me at serious risk of hospitalization.

Nevertheless, I persisted.

My cousins said that I could take the rest to go and eat it later.

My wife informed them that I would be eating all of this food tonight, because I have a problem.

Minutes turned into hours. Not that I could keep track of time.

Nothing felt real anymore.

What we call "reality" stripped away from what was left of my consciousness.

Nothing existed but me and the endless pile of food.

At some point, the rest of the family was getting bored and wanted to leave, so I had to pack my leftovers into a to-go container.

To put it in perspective, less than half the food was left, and it barely fit into a full size styrofoam clamshell container.

As I packed the food in, my wife and mother insisted that it wouldn't fit.

My own wife and mother.

It hurt me to know that they didn't believe in me. In retrospect, I was probably a little overly emotional because my blood sugar was somewhere north of 800.

But Mark believed.

"It's rice", we both said, almost in unison. "You can really pack it in there."

And we were right.

You can really pack rice in there.

My family pleaded with me, "please Spike, please don't eat the rest of that food tonight. We are worried that you will die."

I said "of course I won't eat the rest of it tonight. I've had more than enough."

But my wife said "he's going to eat this before it gets cold."

"No no" I insisted. "This will make a great lunch for tomorrow."

She continued looking at my family.

"He has a problem."

My own wife.

First she didn't think I could pack that rice into the container. Now she thinks I'll eat the leftovers, when I insisted that I wouldn't.

I was heartbroken.

How could the woman I had pledged my life to, my Queen, my very rib, plucked from me and formed as I doth sleep, have so little faith in me?

It was a long and quiet ride home.

I felt alone, betrayed even.

At this point my blood sugar was hovering somewhere around 1200.

I'd estimate that I consumed roughly 600 grams of carbs, and 43,000 mg of sodium.

(I didn't bother calculating the protein and fat, because counting the macros of this meal seemed like a mockery of God and His creation)

All of this would have broken a weaker man.

But not me.

Unlike many lesser Jews, I am stronger than my addiction to Asian food.

My name is Spike Cohen, and I ate the Food and Nutrition Board of the National Academies of Sciences, Engineering, and Medicine's recommend weekly allowance of calories in one sitting.

This is my story.

[haytan]

THE BLUE | G.A

Hi guys.. I'm working on the requests, but I had this in my drafts so why not? As for a question I received: I'm thinking about writing for other people besides Gracie, so if you have an idea you can send it to me, I'll try to write it and let you know.

𓍼 WORD COUNT: 1965

𓍼 SUMMARY: Gracie is stressed about the process of making Good Riddance, so you help her relax.

𓍼 WARNINGS: fluff, naked body?

gracie is currently working on her new album, good riddance. she’s in the process of writing songs for it, but it’s not going so well. you gently pluck guitar strings in a soft melody as you watch her from behind. she’s sitting in her desk chair, tapping her pencil, trying to work on her lyrics.

tired of watching her torture herself—just tapping her pencil against her lips over and over—you leave your guitar on the bed and walk over to her. wrapping your arms around her neck, you press your chest against her back.

“hey, baby…” you try to get her attention, knowing how stressful the writing process can be, especially with such a personal album.

gracie flinches slightly, placing one hand over yours and tilting her head back onto your shoulder. she lets go of her pencil, the tension in her body releasing a little.

“hi,” she sighs quietly. “sorry, i’m just trying to stay on top of my ideas…” her legs bounce nervously.

your eyes fall on her notebook—it’s empty. you frown slightly. “don’t you think you should relax a little, hm?” you plant a kiss on the top of her head. you know she’s stressed and probably in a bad mood, but it doesn’t hurt to try to help.

a small smile briefly flickers on her face from your kiss, but it quickly fades. “yeah, probably…” she says dryly. gracie lets out a soft huff, staring at the blank page. she’s obviously frustrated with her writer’s block. though she knows you’re trying to help, her mood isn’t softening just yet.

you place another kiss on the top of her head, continuing your attempt. “then let’s lie down,” you kiss your way down to her shoulder, then toward the pulse point on her neck. “you’ve been trying to write for hours.”

gracie’s cheeks flush as you place soft kisses down her neck. she bites her lip, trying to stay focused on your words, but the feeling of your breath on her skin and the softness of your voice are distracting her. she leans back slightly against your chest, removing her glasses.

“but it’s the only thing that’ll get this album done on time, y/n…” she protests, though her tone is less firm now.

you can't help the little smile that forms on your lips when she takes off her glasses—not that they’re a problem. in fact, they look beautiful. “gracie, my love,” one more kiss just below her ear, “you’re the boss here. you don’t have to set deadlines for your art.” you turn the chair gently so she’s facing you, chuckling at the sight of her pout.

gracie sighs, her pout deepening as she notices your smirk. she feels her resolve weakening, but tries to keep her grumpy attitude. “baby…” she whines, her voice softer now, a clear sign of how tired she is.

you crouch down in front of her, gazing up at her through your lashes. “let’s make a deal?” you place a hand on her knee and move closer to kiss her. “you take a shower, i’ll make you some food, you relax, and once you’re feeling better, you can start writing again. deal?”

deep down, you know she won’t have the energy to write again tonight. that’s the plan: for her to rest and just give up.

gracie ponders the offer for a moment, then nods, a little defeated. she raises her arms silently, asking to be picked up. “only if you shower with me,” she smirks playfully, her mischievous side coming through.

you giggle, not at all surprised by her condition. of course, she’d take advantage of the situation. “ah, so you have the energy for that, huh?” you open your arms and lift her effortlessly, the sweet scent of jasmine and vanilla from her shampoo filling your nose.

gracie wraps her arms and legs around you, making it impossible for you to put her down. she buries her face in the nape of your neck, letting your scent comfort her. “mm, maybe a little bit…” still with that cheeky smile.

you roll your eyes and carry her to the bathroom. after undressing, the two of you step into the shower together.

under the warm water, you can’t help but admire her toned, lean body. her abs are clearly defined. you’ll never get tired of this view.

gracie’s eyes scan your body, her gaze moving from your chest down to your legs. she reaches out, hands gently trailing over your skin as though you’re one of her instruments—something precious. her cheeks flush when she notices your abs, and her mouth falls open.

“have you been working out?”

your face flushes at her question. you’re not as strong as gracie, but you’ve been putting in some effort. “not as much as you,” you joke, running your hand over her toned abs. maybe you like this part of her body a little too much. “but seriously, have you been working out?”

gracie smiles at your response, letting out a quiet laugh. “nope, it’s all completely natural,” she says, shrugging in a cocky manner and puffing out her chest to show off her abs more.

you roll your eyes at her playful arrogance. “stop lying to me.” moving closer, your faces are just inches apart. your hand remains on her stomach, slowly dropping to her hip.

gracie’s lips part, her breath hitching at your closeness. she shakes her head, gaze fixed on yours. “i’m not lying,” she protests, then pulls you closer, wrapping her arms around your waist. now, your bodies are pressed right against each other.

it’s a silly thing to hold on to, but you can’t help but smile at her stubbornness. “yes, you are.” breaking the small distance, you brush your lips against hers without actually kissing her. you smile wider when you see her opening her mouth, waiting for a kiss that never comes.

gracie whines, frustrated not by your statement but because you’re refusing to kiss her. her arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer. “y/n, babyyy…”

a giggle escapes your lips at her whimper. “yeah, my baby?” you lean back slightly, and of course, you do this just to tease gracie. it’s so good to see her like this in your hands.

gracie is fully aware it’s just to tease her, and she hates you for it. one of her legs wraps around your waist, ensuring you can’t escape. “kiss me, goddamnit…”

you can’t help but laugh at how determined she is. finally, you give in. your lips meet hers in a slow, lingering kiss—one that feels like it belongs to only the two of you.

as soon as your lips touch hers, gracie forgets everything—the teasing, the frustration, even her writer’s block. her tongue slips past your lips, eager to explore your mouth as her arms tighten around you. the water continues to fall over both of you, but all she feels is you.

…

after the shower, you go down to the kitchen while gracie puts on one of your loose and soft hoodies. hearing her shuffle her feet toward the counter, you already know she’s going to sit and watch you as you prepare something for her to eat. it’s a habit she has—staying close, as if your mere presence is enough to comfort her.

with a bowl and some ingredients spread out, you start making quick pancakes, something you know will cheer her up. gracie sits on a stool, resting her elbows on the counter and her face in her hands, her tired eyes fixed on you.

“you’re making my favorites, right?” she asks, her voice a little lighter now but still carrying something you can’t quite place.

“of course,” you reply without even looking. “you deserve it.”

for a moment, there’s only the sound of the batter being mixed and the pan starting to heat up. but then, gracie sighs deeply, breaking the silence.

“sometimes i feel like i’m not ready to release this album,” she suddenly confesses, her voice low, almost as if revealing a secret.

you pause for a second, turning your head to look at her. “why? you already have most of the lyrics done, and some are even produced. i thought you were almost there.”

gracie bites her lip, glancing away at the counter. “i know… but it feels like something’s missing. i can’t explain it.”

you pour the first pancake into the pan, but your focus is on her now. “what do you think is missing?” you ask softly, not rushing her, wanting to give her the space to open up.

she shrugs, her hands clutching the hoodie slightly. “i think…” she pauses, clearly trying to organize her thoughts. “i want this album to be honest, you know? like, truly mine. and there’s a lot in it that’s… personal. but… i don’t know, it’s like i’m holding something back. like i’m not letting everything out.”

you lean against the counter, crossing your arms. “maybe you’re afraid of being too vulnerable,” you suggest, your voice calm and nonjudgmental.

gracie lifts her gaze to you, her expression softening, though there’s still a hint of doubt. “maybe,” she admits. “but what if that’s what people don’t want? what if it’s not enough?”

you offer a gentle smile, stepping forward to place a hand over hers. “love, everything you write is enough because it comes from you. and honestly, what matters isn’t what people expect but what you feel you need to say.”

she holds your hand back, fingers playing with yours. “it’s so easy to say that,” she murmurs, a tired smile appearing.

“that’s why you have me,” you tease, winking at her before turning back to the pan. “to remind you of that every time you forget.”

the silence that follows isn’t uncomfortable. you finish making the pancakes, setting the plate in front of her, and she picks up the fork, murmuring a quiet “thank you.”

after a few bites, gracie looks at you with a lighter sparkle in her eyes. “thank you, y/n. for everything.”

“of course, my love,” you reply with a smile. “now eat before i steal a piece.”

gracie chuckles softly and shakes her head. even though the block is still there, at least now she knows she doesn’t have to face it alone.

while nibbling on the pancake, her eyes land on you as you finish washing the pan. the warm steam rises, slightly fogging the air, but everything about you seems clear to her at that moment. the tension she felt minutes ago begins to fade, as if your presence alone can rearrange the scattered pieces inside her.

what are you doing to me now?

the question echoes in her mind, bringing an unexpected warmth. everything she’s written so far is about sadness, emptiness, the end of something. but what about the beginning?

you came out the blue like that.

blue has always meant sadness to her. a melancholic void, like a winter sky — vast and unreachable. it’s the color that paints her days after the breakup, the lonely nights when the words won’t come. but with you… blue changes.

blue is still sadness, but now it’s a sadness she doesn’t have to fear. a shade she doesn’t have to erase to make room for the sun, because with you, even the darkest blue seems to hold something beautiful.

she lets out a sigh, lighter this time, and you notice. “you okay?” you pause for a second to look at her.

gracie smiles at you, shaking her head. “okay. i guess… i finally figured out what i’m missing.”

you smile back, not fully understanding but happy to see her in better spirits. “i hope it’s something good.”

“it is,” her smile growing. “it’s you.”

thanks for reading <3

masterlist

[monstrousfemale]

found footage

Grainy film, static-y audio. There's a date at top right, and the screen is black, then a blurry motion reveals Steve Harrington standing in the kitchen, cooking dinner. He's focused, his hair is pulled back from his face with mismatched hair clips, there's a sheen of sweat on his forehead. The camera zooms in, in, in, until we're almost uncomfortably close. There's a little frown between Steve's eyebrows, just a small crease really. A voice asks "what you up to, big boy?"

Steve's eyes dart up, beyond the camera, then straight at it.

"Are you wasting another tape over me cooking?"

"It's never a waste, I like having a record of how you spoil me."

"Turn it off, Eddie," Steve says, turns away from the camera. There's unintelligible mumbling, a snicker.

The image changes.

Steve is writing carefully, handwriting coming out perfectly round, he dots his Is and crosses his Ts with utmost respect.

"Watcha doing?" Eddie asks, out of shot. He sounds like he already knows.

"I'm writing a thank you card," Steve answers distractedly.

"What for?"

"You know what for."

"Tell me again," Eddie insists, and the camera goes crooked, the angle is all wrong, following a foot tapping a shin below the desk.

"I'm thanking Joyce and Hopper," Steve says, defeated. The camera rights itself, and the light streaming in from the kitchen window to their left causes dust particles to dance on the screen, glares up Steve's impatient face.

"Why are you thanking Joyce and Hopper?" Eddie asks, and his smile can be heard in his voice, even though he's still behind the camera.

"I'm thanking them for co-signing our lease," Steve says, and finally smiles like he can't help it. "We're getting a bigger place next week."

"Damn right we are, baby," Eddie says, and the camera is turned to the side, filming out the window where a breeze is causing trees to sway gently. The mic pics up a loud smack, laughter. The camera is set down on the table, films the kitchen wall only.

"You're gonna use up the tape, Eds," Steve can be heard saying, right before the footage stops.

The camera pans over Eddie's body, from his shoes to his frizzy hair. He's sitting down, holding his guitar with usual nerves. He plucks sound out of her, and it comes off uneven.

"Turn that off," he says, looking only at his own fingers moving over the frets.

"No, play it again."

"Turn it off, and I will."

"Play it again and I'll turn it off."

Eddie sighs. Rolls his eyes, and then plasters on a large smile.

"Hey future Steve, you're in for a treat. Present you is forcing me to propose twice, just so he gets it on tape."

The camera is set down, not too carefully, and Eddie is not quite as centered anymore, his hand holding up the guitar's neck is fully off shot. Steve shows up on the footage, covers any view of Eddie.

He places both hands on each side of Eddie's face, kisses him. Not that the camera catches much of it except for the smacking of lips, telltale sighs.

"I already said yes," Steve says, the camera's shitty mic barely catches it. "Just sing it again, please?"

Eddie is nodding when Steve disappears behind the camera, the shot centered again.

He sings something he wrote himself. There's soft sniffling from behind the camera, betraying Steve's emotions. Eddie's eyes never move to the camera, always focused on some point behind it.

The last thing that can be heard is Steve's strangled "I love you," before the image goes dark.

[lis-likes-fics]

We love clingy, small, sweet Wanda in this house so how about one where precious little bean is having a cold but refuses to rest and follows Reader instead until they give in and take a bath with her or something like that 🥹💕

this has been in my ask box for like...two years and i'm honestly so sorry i didn't answer this sooner but here it is. i hope you like it (if you're even still active) 😭

tw: fluff, brief suicide joke, sick fic. 900 words.

You glance over at Wanda at the corner of your eye. Her nose is red, her eyes are droopy, and she's bundled up with at least three blankets as she lays in bed. The TV plays quietly in front of her, a dimly lit lamp providing whatever light doesn't come from the television as you try to watch for her tired gaze.

Picking up the remote, you pause the movie and shift in your chair to look at her better. “Sleepy yet?” you wonder gently, concern written all over your face.

Her answer is prompt. “No, turn it back on.”

You sigh. “Baby, it's almost two in the morning. You need to sleep.”

The night outside of your bedroom window is full of crickets and twinkling stars. As Wanda glances at the time on the wall, she just mumbles under her breath.

“I can't,” she complains, looking at you with tired eyes. “It's too cold.”

“Do you need another blanket?”

She nods meekly, her green eyes so full of her adoration for you. It both warms your heart and saddens it to see her like this. She's so pretty, you want to kiss her.

You take the blanket off your lap and drape it on top of her. You know she feels bad about taking yours, but she accepts it anyway because she loves you and she does feel a little better. Besides, the blanket smells like you, too. It adds another layer of comfort.

You watch her wiggle her nose, her eyes filling with tears and her lips parting as she moves to sit up. The first sneeze racks through her whole body, and you almost feel bad about the way you just watch her. The second sneeze has you pitying her. It follows in quick succession, and you know it hurts by the way she hunches over and stays hunched over. The third and fourth sneezes are definitely nothing to envy.

The look she gives when she opens her eyes is downright murderous as she stares at nothing in particular. She sounds strange when she speaks, like she's holding back a yawn.

“If I sneeze one more time, I'll kill myself.”

“Baby–”

She does, in fact, sneeze one more time. You watch her eyes light in a scarlet red, her fingertips dancing with wisps. You don't appreciate her joke as much as she wishes you would when you roll your eyes and thrust a box of tissues toward her.

“Quit it and blow your nose.” She eyes you as she plucks a tissue, folding it up and bringing it to her nose. She blows hard, making the most pitiful sound as she wipes her nose. As she reaches over to throw it away in the trash bag by the bed, her eyes glow suddenly and the whole bag disappears, along with the used tissue in her hand.

The both of you freeze, staring at the place where the bag once sat in silent suspense.

“Where did it go?” you ask quietly.

Wanda shakes her head gently. “I don't know, but I think that's for the best.”

You nod slowly. “Okay, then.”

Wanda's magic has been acting up since she got sick. You don't know what to expect, and you're slowly teaching yourself not to question things.

Wanda lathers a generous amount of sanitizer in her hands and then picks up the remote once more. She hits play as the movie starts up again and she sits back. You take the remote, turning it completely off this time.

She looks at you, both offended and confused. “Hey–”

“You need to sleep,” you tell her, determined.

“But–”

“Move over.”

She pouts, genuinely worried this time 

“I don't want to get you sick.”

You pull back the covers, “If I get sick, then I'll just make you take care of me.” You point at her. “Now move over and let me get in with you.”

“Honey–”

You scoop her up and deposit her a little further on the other side of the bed before crawling in yourself. You wrap your arms around her aching body and lay your head against the pillow. Wanda immediately melts against you, accepting your warmth as the deepest sigh eases from her body.

You feel the mattress beneath you slowly start to warm, a very steady heat that adds to both your comfort as you cuddle her closer. Enjoying the moment, your words come out more as a mumble. “Better?”

“Mmm.”

You smile a bit, carding your fingertips through some of her hair. “Can you sleep for me now, sweetheart?”

She glances up at you through heavy lids. Even the gentle light of the bedside lamp illuminating the light dust of freckles over her cheeks. “Can you sing to me?”

You'd like nothing more.

You reach over and turn off the lamp, allowing the calm darkness of the night to wash over the both of you. A gentle song arises from your throat as you begin to hum “L-O-V-E” in the quietest voice you can manage. It's one of her favorite songs, and she's moments away from rest already.

You continue to run your fingers through her hair, ignoring the slight ache in the back of your throat that you've been ignoring for the past couple of hours. You'll make Wanda hold you when you wake up in the morning with her cold.

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[mavcancees]

drawing realism is pretty funny because you start hyperanalizing your subjects' traits and find out fun details about them that you don't perceive at first (or originally thought of them differently)

anyways here a list of dnf anatomy details that i've collected through intense studying:

1. dream does not have a large jawline actually. his top one is just completely straight, and his bottom one has no side downward curve. usually human skulls will have the top jaw sit at about a 30° angle, but his is just flat. it makes his bottom jaw look a lot more out. this carries all the way up to his forehead too. his bottom jaw is also almost completely straight from the mandibular angle to the chin.

2. george has THE HIGHEST CHEEKBONES. he just has an equally wide mandibular angle (meaning, his jaw doesn't taper in as much), so it doesn't look like it until you compare his cheeks to his side brow bones

3. george also has very long lips horizontally, and a very angular chin, which gives him this constant almost pouty look, so when he smiles he just has a beautiful lip shape

4. dream has a very consistent beard. no splotchiness whatsoever.

5. he also has a mole immediately below his jawline on his right side (or the side of the ear that is not pierced)

6. one of george's eyebrows is significantly taller than the other one on the arch. the start of his eyebrows are also fairly thin and sit pretty low. (he is not escaping the eyebrow plucking/threading allegations imo, they are so incredibly clean)

7. dream's nose looks almost cartoonish from the side from how soft the curve is. from the front, the tip sits pretty low compared to his nostrils

8. george's is a little more hooked AT THE END (he does not have full hooked nose, his bridge is very inwards on the top half), and from the front the tip and nostrils sit at the same height. it makes it look kind of like a tiny wide triangle

9. they both have very long cupid's bows, george a bit more than dream (see late point 8)

10. "dream is puppy coded" and it's because his eyelids are diagonal in the same way puppies have diagonal eye curves ! he very literally has dog eyes

11. dream's middle lashes are very long, and they get darker as you go out. george's are long all around and VERY full. they both have pretty crazy bottom lashes

12. i am once again highlight george's bottom lip. what a beautiful man

13. cameras need to stop hatecriming dream's freckles. set them free. (they mostly sit directly under his eyes next to his nose. he also has some on his chin, it's very charming)

14. gnf comes from the miranda cosgrove school of fake wasians. having deepset eyes, extremely hooded eyes and consistent, very deep aegyo sal will do that to you. (i say this as an asian with much love). don't be scared to draw his eyes properly, he's not beating the wasian allegations, you're allowed to post your "concerningly asian looking" gnf fanart (whoever says this to you send them to me i will beat them up). that's just how he looks. just make sure his nose is right and you're good 👍

15. dream is a LOT larger than what you think in the horizontal axis. door width. huge forearms. his waist is just "small" (average male waist size). don't let it deceive you

that's all for now i'll reblog with more as i find them have fun arting

[arjwrites]

Close Behind- Sam Winchester x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Sam- and that scares the hell out of him. Based on the song “Close Behind” by Noah Kahan. 

Warnings: Very very angst heavy. A poor, poor, messed up Sammy. Very slight reference to suicide. No uses of Y/N, completely gn

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Got the idea for this fic, sat down to write it, and posted it all in one sitting. This idea hurt my soul so bad that I had to share it with you all. I'll make sure to get some happy Sammy fluff in the works very soon because I literally broke my own heart writing this :'( PLEASE PLEASE listen to the song before or while reading this. If you don't already know it, you're welcome. Such a beautiful song and so Winchester coded, in my humble opinion. I hope you enjoy <3

-

I think I found a fear of mine

That you might love for no reason

You know I worry only luck brought me to you

Sam’s favorite sound in the world was born out of a successful hunt. It was a quiet hum, comprised of the steady rumble of the Impala’s engine, the subtle rhythm of Dean’s more subdued playlist, and the soft breaths that escaped his love’s sleeping lips. Over the years, he had begun to associate this sound with momentary comfort and safety- threats eliminated, civilians saved, and his most important people alive and well. It was the sound of a job well done and the only thing that could pull his system out of fight-or-flight for a short while. On this particular night, Bobby had joined the team for the hunt, so Sam had conceded the passenger seat to him and happily slipped into the back to share space and warmth with you. It didn’t take the lonely highway long to lull you into a peaceful sleep, and for Sam’s mind to drag itself into a million directions. The rear seat was a rare vantage point for him, the unfamiliar setting disrupting the routine settlement of his thoughts and stirring them to the surface like sediment rising from the bottom of a lake. 

Most people would say that their beloved was their peace, the one who kept them grounded and made them feel like everything would be okay. For Sam, this was partially true. You were the tether that anchored him to reality, but reality was scary. Simply knowing the name Sam Winchester put you in the line of fire, and that ate away at his conscience every single day. He knew he was so lucky to have you, but sometimes he wondered about the nature of luck’s intentions. When, in the past, had luck been truly on his side? He feared that was all that tied your heart to him- a fleeting, miraculous moment of luck that would expire any moment and pluck you out of his clutches. Someone to heal his soul and repair his damaged pieces, only so it would hurt even more when life stole you away and broke him back apart. 

I'm half awake most of the time

It's just the timing of the seasons

So you know I worry that you're all I have to lose

These were the thoughts that Sam fought to keep at bay as best he could, but his mind was weary and his fears knew his every weakness. It was hard to ignore these worries when they were self created- his very demise was an inside job. You were the only easy thing in his life, a flickering candle in a dark, damp space- bright, and warm, and magnetically inviting. But Sam felt that when he got too close, when he reached out to touch you and his fingers lingered too long, he would burn himself and extinguish your flame in the process.

This didn’t stop him from loving you, and loving you well, but it made the act a burden. Caring for you was the hardest thing he had ever done. It was always his job to take care of those around him, but for everyone else he protected, he could breathe easy once the bodies hit the floor. For you, there was no safe. There was never an end to the threats that faced you, because there was never an end to the threats that faced him. And because of this, Sam Winchester never felt worthy of you. He could never truly protect you. The very act of loving him was a death sentence, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to free you from it. 

And I should change this way of thinking

That all my fears are facts of life

But I could die tomorrow, you'd be close behind

I hate that you think of yourself that way, you would tell him. Every day I think how lucky I am to love, and to be loved by, you. You couldn’t keep me away if you tried. I’ve never felt safer than I do with you. Sam recognized the arsenal of responses you had developed to address his concerns- no worry he threw your way was ever left unanswered. But Sam was stubborn. His fears were informed by everything he had ever known, every loss he had ever faced. His life had been an uphill battle, and try as you might, there was never rest in a soldier’s mind. And for Sam, there was no way to win the war. Because if he lost you, he would lose everything. And if he died to protect you, there would be no one left to keep you safe. So all he could do was fight as hard as he could around the clock, destroying himself for the sake of your preservation. 

I live my life in years to come

To prepare myself for sorrow

So I won't worry when I crumble at your feet

Losing you was always in the back of Sam’s mind. Sometimes when he let his mind wander too far, he would try to make plans for what he would do, how he would handle it, but he could never quite wrap his head around a desire to live even a minute longer than you. These were the thoughts that plagued his mind when he would roll over to hold you a little tighter at night. He would stir and you would wake, whispering reassurances that he would never accept. Still, it was nice to hold you close. It was a reminder that you were still here, that he could savor you for as many minutes as he was blessed with. 

It wasn’t uncommon for Sam to break down in front of you. It was a heavy load he carried, and you told him time and time again to let you into his heart and mind. You do so much to care for me, Sam. Let me care for you. So every so often, when things got so dark that he lost his way, you were the one to try to coax him back to the light. 

It's something sinister to love

Without regard for dear Tomorrow

To search for worry is to love without deceit

Dean would tell him he needed to stop worrying so much, that he was ruining the love he had right in front of him by not letting himself enjoy it. Live in the moment, he’d say. Enjoy what you have right now. But that was never an option for Sam. If he let his guard down, if he let himself become distracted, weak, he could lose you. It was because he truly loved you that he piled the world atop his shoulders. It was all he felt he could do to earn the right to be loved by you. Dean would shake his head, but he knew deep down that there was nothing he could do to change his brother’s line of thinking. As long as there were monsters to hunt, there would be danger. And as long as there was danger, Sam would throw himself in the line of fire to keep you safe- whether the enemy was a ghost, a demon, or his own mind. 

So I fill my days with thinking

Though, I'm years from my true time

I could die tomorrow, you'd be close behind

Close behind. 

Hey, hey. Sam. It’s okay, breathe with me. 

Sam, I know you still worry, but we haven’t hunted for years now. There’s no more danger. 

You and me? We’re safe and sound. You can breathe easy, you can relax. 

I’m not going anywhere. 

Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t still think about losing you every day. Though you had been out of the hunting game for years, though the world had found a new peace and many of the threats had been eliminated, the worry was too far engrained into his mind. He tried to hide it from you because there was nothing you could do to help. This was a burden Sam knew he would carry for the rest of his life. His eyes would always dart around a new room for escape routes. He would always carry holy water in case he got suspicious. He would skim through old lore books in secret to keep his knowledge sharp. He still slept with his gun in his nightstand, kept as far away from him as he could bear, out of fear that you would notice its presence and recognize his fear. But you already knew all of these things. You were so attuned to everything that weighed heavy on Sam’s heart- this had always been your own burden to carry. 

I can’t wait to grow old with you, you’d hum, running your fingers through his hair or tracing circles on his forearm. Sam would nod, he would smile, he would humor you as you chatted about marriage and kids and retirement and everything he knew you deserved. You two built a beautiful, normal life together- dinner dates and romantic vacations and even a big white wedding one day. But even as he stood at the altar and watched you walk down the aisle, there was a pistol tucked into his waistband of his tux. When you moved into your first home, he would sneak out of your room in the middle of the night to stencil warding symbols underneath the paint you’d picked out for the living room. And when you were setting up the nursery before bringing home your first child… 

Sam would grow old with you, but his heart would never grow any less weary.