#if you saw me posting the last one hush up

[theaologies]

I’m pretty sure I’m entitled to 1,125 of these little dudes actually @staff

[pedgito]

𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋 | Joel Miller x reader

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summary | Joel finds the perfect way to keep you quiet while he showers you with compliments.

author's note | i saw a text post ages ago that i cannot find that inspired this. here's a vaguely disguised new years themed fic and some pwp to celebrate. not to get sappy on a blowjob fic but i'm very thankful for this community and the ideas that have been shared, love you all <3

content warning | 18+ MDNI, jackson!joel, established dynamic, idiots in love, shy!reader, joel being a quiet lover in public but loud in private, this is a deeply emotional blowjob y'all buckle in, unprotected piv.

word count — 2k

“Am I gonna have to shut you up just so I can tell you how pretty you are?” Joel snarks, only half-joking.

You hated compliments.

Joel loved giving them.

It was a slow work in progress, trying to feel comfortable with the showering of words, the outward affection Joel showed in private. 

He appreciated that you weren’t big on public displays, enjoyed the idea of keeping you and this, all to himself.

But, he liked you—had for some time. It took months of courage before he could bring himself to admit it. It was after a long night of patrol, a grueling walk to your last stop. You had both collapsed in exhaustion on the dirtied couch in the lookout far west of Jackson, delirious with sleep when the words finally left his lips. 

Even then, as he spoke, your hands found their way over your face, the heat of embarrassment prickling your skin as you shied away from him.

He’s learned to do it in subtle ways—a smile, longing looks, a touch, learning that love could be translated in many ways, not just words.

Besides, he wasn’t all that good at words anyways.

You decided to drag him back to your house after the annual New Year's celebration in Jackson—Tommy insisted that it was something to celebrate.

Another year of survival, another year without detrimental loss. Every day was something to cherish, but the party was a way to take a weight off of everyone’s shoulders.

You and Joel had never nailed down exactly what you were doing—just that you enjoyed it, you liked him, and he fancied you. He said it all the time, even now as he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips.

“You are so old-fashioned,” You snorted softly, helping him strip the thick winter coat down his shoulders, torn on one sleeve still from a fight with another small group. You had promised to stitch it up. You were good on your promises, he knows you’d get to it eventually. 

He separates from you briefly, placing it carefully over the barstool in your kitchen before he’s pushing you up against your couch, your ass pressing against the hard edge of the back, nearly tumbling as he presses his lips against yours again, your hands curving around the back of his neck as you kiss him back in earnest.

“Somethin’ wrong with that?” He teases, “I know an old man who’s real good at makin’ you scream.”

You giggle softly, “Hush,” You chastise him, allowing him to lead you blind until you both could land on the couch safely, straddling his lap as he worked at your jeans, fitting his hands underneath the denim and cotton of your underwear as he squeezed at your ass, cupping the flesh tight in his hands as you gasp, nudging your nose against his as you breath into his open mouth, “You and that mouth, I swear.”

Joel chuckles, eyes opening to yours closed, hiding your face away as you mouth at his neck, pressing gentle kisses into the skin as he squeezes at your ass harder, a moan slipping past your lips involuntarily.

“There she is,” He says with an air of wonder, like he’d just discovered something new, his overgrown curls tickling at your nose, “s’just me and you—don’t be shy.”

“I’m not—“ You argue, “you know I’m not.”

You widen your legs, grinding down against the growing length beneath the zipper of his jeans, leaning back as his eyes drag down your body, slipping his hands from your jeans to squeeze at your thighs, his bottom lip tucking between his teeth with your lazy rhythm.

“I know, baby,” Joel coos, “need me to fuck you? Don’t you?”

You nod fervently, “Please—Joel, please.”

Your lips part, perching forward to grip into the collar of his shirt as you lazy movements become more frantic, face contorting in pleasure as your tongue glides along your bottom lip, distinctly aware of Joel’s affectionate gaze.

“Fuck—never gonna get tired of that,” Joel speaks aloud, one hand rising to cradle your face as his thumb drags over you wet lip, “how pretty you look when you get needy—pretty all the damn time, but—“

You kiss him quick in an effort to silence him, his laughing blending into a groan as you bite down on his bottom lip, stripping your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before you’re reaching for his belt, loosening it while he licks into your mouth, the subtle taste of malt liquor on your breath.

It matched his own, sharing a drink with him earlier in the night as he hid away in the corner of the room, as he often did at parties, too eager to get his hands on you as he watched you work your magic, gracing your smile upon everyone that passed, keeping up small talk that Joel would rather not suffer through. 

“Got a request,” He tells you, speaking against your lips as you hum in question, “how much d’ya want me to beg to get those lips around my cock?”

You giggle softly, wordlessly you move toward the floor, working against his jeans before he’s helping you shove them down far enough that he can scoop his balls into his hand, rolling them against his fingers as he wraps his other hand around his cock, pushing his thumb over the head as he guides it into your waiting mouth.

It was always a stretch, even like this.

You apply a gentle kiss before your lips spread, the faintest taste of precum at the tip of your tongue before you’re guiding your mouth down his cock, the salty taste of the velvet skin around him, a musky but sweet taste to the opaque liquid gathered at the slit.

“Perfect, fucking perfect,” He breathes, running his finger through your hair as he pushes it back, his other hand hovering nearby, curling into a tight fist as you press your nose into the thick patch of curls at the base, “shoulda stuffed this mouth sooner, seems to do the trick.”

You gag against his forceful movement, burying the head of his cock into your throat so far his teeth clenched, leaving you effectively silenced.

“S’that what it took, a mouthfulla’ cock and you won’t stop me from complimentin’ you for once?”

Beggars can’t be choosers, he’d take it.

And such a pleaser you were, you had a job to do.

Usually he revels in the feeling, subdued and quiet while he watches you work, skilled hands and an exquisite mouth to match, he’d hit the jackpot somehow. 

“Come on, pretty girl,” He encourages, allowing you up for air for a brief moment as your spit slick mouth drools down his shaft, tears brimming your eyes, “fucking beautiful takin’ it all in like that—more?”

You nod, watching as he grips his shaft, tapping the mushroom shaped tip against your lips, teasing you as you slip your tongue along his shaft, guiding you back as you chase his movements.

“Work for it, baby,” He insists, “show me how bad you wan’ it.”

Impatience grows, you huff through your nose as you swat his hand away, wrapping your own hand around his cock instead, your mouth covering what your fingers couldn’t, your other hand cupping his balls, rubbing a single finger down the seam of his sack as you twirled your tongue around the dripping head, lapping up his cum at this slit.

“That’s right, lookin’ like a goddamn dream. Eyes on me, sweetheart,” He beckons, with you peeking through tear-stained eyes, silenced as your mouth is stuffed full of him.

Eventually, your tongue trails along the vein at the underside of his cock, reaching the seam of his sack before you’re rolling his balls along your tongue, sucking them between your lips with a wet noise that causes Joel to groan, his hand squeezing in your hair at the scalp.

“I would keep you like this for hours if you’d let me, wish you could see how fuckin’ amazing you look, gotta know how lucky I am to have you—I am, I’m so lucky, baby.”

In any other context, you would cry. 

It scared you, hearing the admission. The love Joel felt so immensely, the love that terrified you—because when things get too serious, they always go south. 

It was easier to keep things light—fun, simple. As much as you had found a home in Joel, nested in between his ribcage, around his heart—it was still constricting.

Physicality was easy to detach from.

Words, however, meant the world to you.

You couldn’t hear those words unless, in his heart, he truly meant them. Even then, it still terrified you. But, he had you now. Locked on his gaze, the words tumbling from his mouth like a dam finally breaking—you were done for.

“Stick your tongue out,” He orders gently, watching you move away to follow his order, rubbing the head of his cock over the wet, fleshy muscle, “always listenin’ so well, too,”

You feel the heat in your face return as you close your eyes to avoid his intense gaze, sucking him down eagerly as you shift from your haunches to your knees, hurrying your pace as he begins to fall apart, pathetic grunts of half pleasure and half plea filling the room.

Shamelessly, you swallowed him down again as he pressed against the back of your throat, holding yourself in place until he collapsed against the back of the couch, his hands tangled into your hair carelessly as you gagged, a distinct sound that brought Joel over the edge in an instant.

“Oh—oh, fuck. Darlin’, I fuckin’—“ His orgasm surges quickly to the surface, the warm of his cum spreading against your tongue as you swallow him down without hesitation, “God, I’m so in love with you,”

You can feel him shudder against your tongue, cock twitching as you remove him from your mouth, his chest releasing a sigh as he reaches blindly for your hand, silently begging you to come to him. You crawl slowly, careful as you position yourself over him again, his hand pushing your fallen hair away from your face as he pulls you in, breathing heavily into the lazy kiss he presses against your lips.

“Been tryin’ to tell you for so long,” Joel admits with a fond tone, “you’re always shuttin’ me down,”

“I’m sorry,” You admit softly, “S’just—words mean more to me than you think.”

“Oh baby—I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it,” Joel assures, “I’m not throwin’ that shit around lightly. I mean it—every fuckin’ bit.”

You let the conversation fall silent, eyes scanning over his relaxed expression.

“Is that what it took, though?” Joel teases, rubbing his thumb along your bottom lip, pressing against the plush skin, “Gotta shut you up with my cock to tell you all the nice things you deserve to hear?”

“It does help, doesn’t it?” You counter with amusement, his face cracking into a smile, the skin beside his eyes creasing with emotion as you laugh, his own mixing with yours.

“It does,” He agrees with a chuckle, pulling you forward gently to curl his hand around the back of your head and pull you into his chest, echoing a quieter, “It does.”

Still undressed at the waist, Joel nips at your skin, a tell-tale sign of his persistence.

“Slow down, cowboy,” You tease, “It’s almost midnight—can’t have you skippin’ out on our kiss.”

“Better yet, I can start it off inside ‘ya,” He bargains, a deal that seemed far too good to pass up.

Joel is eager in his attempts to get you undressed from the waist down, shrugging his shoes and jeans off completely before you straddle his lap, gripping his cock with a delicate hold, slipping it inside of you slowly, enjoying the contortion of Joel’s expression as your walls squeeze around him. 

You can hear the muffled celebration off in the distance as Joel whispers something unintelligible into your skin, nudging your shirt up high enough with his nose until he can get his mouth on your skin, aiding the slow bounce of your hips with his hands as he pants, “I love you too,” You admit, “f’that wasn’t already clear.”

“Crystal, darlin’—but it is nice to hear.”

There was no rush for now, enjoying the sensation of each other’s bodies in a way that consumed you both, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips as you spoke into his open mouth.

“Happy New Year,” You tell him, fighting through your own quiet giggle.

Joel nods in approval, humming, “S’right—Happy fuckin’ New Year.”

[cherryredcheol]

"lovie"

tldr: all the ways jeonghan uses your nickname a/n: but mom, i love him. (there is a makeout scene in this...)

pesters: but only in good fun

“lovie,” he coos at you, encouraged by the blush on your cheeks. he could tell by the look in your eyes, you were embarrassed but not upset. you hadn’t thought anything of it when he suggested you wear the green hoodie in your closet to visit him and the members in the practice room. 

“need to let everyone know we’re together?” he couldn’t help but poke fun at you as you walked into the room wearing a matching hoodie to his. you had no knowledge he had even worn the offending garment today. if you had, you wouldn’t be in yours, especially not in front of his members and their staff.  

“i’m pretty sure everyone already knows.” his teasing didn’t let up, even as he wrapped his arms around you, pleased to see you had fallen right into his trap. you faintly heard joshua scoff somewhere behind you, too focused on the man in front of you to really give him any attention, “you guys are gross.” 

whispers: when he wants to check in

“lovie,” his whisper pulls you from your thoughts. “i don’t think that pork will come back to life no matter how hard you stare at it. mingyu grilled it really well.” you rolled your eyes but turned to look at him nonetheless. he looked awfully handsome under the dim light of the bbq restaurant. he always looked handsome, you supposed. 

“are you okay?” he was still whispering. wanted to keep this moment as private as possible so you could speak freely. he knew dinner with his members could be a lot, especially after a long day at work. 

“you can tell me if you want to go. you know i’ll never pass up an opportunity to go home with you.” his eye dropped in a wink, and this time you smiled when you rolled your eyes. going home with him did kind of sound like a good idea…

breathes: in between kisses

“lovie,” it escapes him like a sigh, slipping out between you two in a heated moment. you were on his lap, completely blocking his view of the tv, and in the back of his mind he knows he wanted to see this one but he couldn’t bring himself to care. not with the way he is consumed with the feeling of your weight pressing on him, your warmth almost burning his skin even through layers of clothes. 

when you pull back and look at him, he swears he feels his heart skip a beat. face oily and bare from the skin care you had completed before joining him on the couch for movie night, he’s never thought you more beautiful. he can feel your lip balm on and around his lips, a reminder you’d been there.

“whatever you’re doing, it’s working lovie,” he praises. “you’re practically glowing.” if he thought you were radiant before, you beamed under his praise. the last thing he saw before his eyes closed to continue kissing you was your toothy grin. 

giggles: behind cupped hands

“lovie,” he was snickering when he pulled you into a secluded corner of seungchoel’s apartment. game night was in full swing and you had just started the third round of mafia. while the rest of the members were distracted by mingyu and soonyoung’s bickering, he whisked you away, his mischievous smirk on his face. 

“can you keep a secret?” he was talking in hushed tones, hiding his mouth behind his hands to avoid prying eyes. when you nodded in confirmation, he leaned impossibly closer, breath tickling your ear. 

“i’m the mafia.” it took everything in you to keep your face neutral. you didn’t want to blow him in after he spilled such a big secret. it warmed your heart that he trusted you enough to tell you his role in the game. “if you tell anyone, i’ll kill you next.” 

scrawls: on a post-it

“lovie,” the note brought heat to your cheeks. you really hoped your coworker at the desk across from yours didn’t notice. when had he even slipped this in? you packed your own lunch and he wasn’t even awake when you left for your shift this morning, still snuggled beneath your comforter when you pulled your shoes on and headed out the door. 

“i miss you. hope you’re having a good day!” his neat handwriting brought a smile to your face. this wasn’t the first time he had snuck a note into your lunchbox, but he didn’t do it often so this was really a treat. and on a friday, too! what a great way to end the week. 

“i can’t wait to spend the weekend with you.” you shared the sentiment. looking forward to a free weekend with no plans or schedules. free to rot in your bed for the next two days with your beloved. “love you!” 

[thebearer]

love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three

prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.

or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)

contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+

“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically. 

Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs. 

“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.” 

Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off. 

“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly. 

“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.” 

You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it. 

“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”

“You don’t have to do anything.” Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.” 

You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way. 

“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.” 

You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane. 

Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again. 

“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them. 

“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.” 

“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair. 

MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?” 

Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them. 

Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion. 

You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy. 

Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first. 

The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse. 

“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 

You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.” 

Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick. 

Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently. 

“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time. 

Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out. 

You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head. 

“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I…I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.” 

You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying. 

Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself. 

You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained. 

“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap. 

Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum. 

“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar. 

“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…” 

Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you. 

“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.” 

“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion. 

“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-” 

“-No, no, I swear-” 

“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.” 

Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined. 

“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety. 

“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.

 “I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing. 

“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts. 

“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear. 

“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto. 

“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?” 

“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth. 

“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale. 

“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.” 

Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry. 

“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-” 

“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently. 

Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you. 

“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again. 

“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line. 

“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on. 

“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.” 

You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions. 

“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.

“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-” 

“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-” 

“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing. 

“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-” 

“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-” 

“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand. 

Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.” 

“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly. 

“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.” 

“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?” 

You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.” 

Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.

“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.” 

Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.” 

“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.” 

Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.” 

Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.” 

You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.” 

Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one. 

Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head. 

“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.” 

“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.” 

“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end. 

“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers. 

“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity. 

The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others. 

Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen. 

Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others. 

“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans. 

“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers. 

You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason. 

“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.” 

You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation. 

Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it. 

“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely. 

You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?” 

Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him. 

His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console. 

Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-” 

“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin. 

Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss. 

“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.” 

Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.” 

Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded. 

Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him. 

Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-” 

“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”

[hobis-hope95]

Blessed by the Gods

fancast!Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader

Summary: You, the only daughter of Amos Bracken, had just been offered away in marriage to a man much older than you, and in the hopes of having some peace and quiet for you to express your anguish towards the Gods that allowed this, you go to a place you found a couple months ago - a beautiful clearing with flowers scattered around and a weirwood tree in the middle. You knew it was risky, as you'd seen him there before, but in a moment of distraction Benjicot Blackwood found you and now you must suffer the consequences.

Warnings: 18+, enemies to lovers, a little fluf (veeery little), kinda dom x sub, swearing, hunting (it's basicaly it but I don't know if there's another term for it, when you read you'll know), smut, porn with (very) little plot, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, breeding kink, praising kink.

Authors note: Heyy, so this is my very first time posting something I wrote (I do write a lot but mostly I get stuck and end up not finishing it) because I'm OBCESSED with Kieran Burton since I saw him in the goddamn teaser, plus I've been reading plenty of fanfics of him and two of them particularly inspired me for this (I'm sorry, I don't remember the names or the authors to tag them). Last but not least, English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes.

You should hate him. You should’ve never been in that place, for you knew it was Blackwood territory, and should’ve heard him getting closer before. But you didn’t. You knew he went there frequently and if he saw you in the golden dress you wore in that particular place, he would definitely tell you to go back to your lands, but not without some provocation first. But that weirwood tree was so beautiful even if hidden in the middle of the woods, the flowers that bloom around it were so unique that you had to go there and admire them in a way to flee from the confinements of Stone Hedge. Or you told yourself that this was the reason you went there.

You found it the first time by accident. You had got lost in the woods, no track of a clearing nearby for you to situate yourself, when you saw the red leaves and decided to get near, for you knew that the weirwood roots extended long through the floor – making itself exclusive for a few yards in its radium – and you would be able to see the sky without the treetops being on your way. When you got there, though, the place was so gorgeous you could not leave right away.

After that, you tried to memorize as much of the path you could and return to that same place for moments of peace. That was until one day you heard footsteps – of one person it seemed – and you hushed to hide away. Moments later, hidden behind some bushes, you saw when no other than Benjicot Blackwood appeared through another end of the clearing where, you didn’t notice before, had a small trail that probably led straight to Raventree Hall.

Bloody Ben. Lord Blackwood. Lord of the house you were supposed to hate, and yet you found him so extremely gorgeous. You’d saw him only a few times. On Riverrun where your families sometimes were called by their Paramount Lord or near the stream that divided their lands, often arguing with your cousin in the company of a few others of his House and a few times you ended up being the victim, getting back home after slapping him across his face with his obscene remarks or just leaving after outsmarting the man – for the second you took much pride in.

On some of the times you’d been on the clearing you ended up having to hide when hearing his footsteps and waiting for him to leave before you could move. He’d mostly sit in one of the roots of the old tree and do whatever he felt like doing at the moment. You’d seen him reading, cleaning his sword, crafting some arrows and doing nothing at all, but he always stayed for about two hours before finally leaving.

Today however, probably because you were stressed with the news of your arranged marriage, you didn’t hear him getting close. When he saw your dress, the colour of your house shining through the rays of sunshine, a smirk crept in his face with the ideas he had in mind.

He knew it was wrong, hideous, the idea of wanting anything that came with the red stallion in a golden shield, your House’s coat of arms. He knew that from any woman he could want, you should not be a possibility. But with your hair that finished around your hips and a face that looked like a gift from the Gods, allied with your wits and challenging manner, he could not lie to himself that more than once he woke up in the middle of the night hot and bothered after a much-detailed dream about you – and eventually would handle his hardness with the thought of defiling you and making you his.

What he didn’t know, and you tried to deny it as much as you could, was that you also had conflicting thoughts about him. Since the first time you’d saw him in Riverrun, his face showing a mischievous glow with a smirk on his lips as your family entered the room, you fought with your own body as your heart raced and your cheeks burned in his presence. You hated the way he mocked your cousin and told you the lousiest of things, his lascivious expression making you hot and bothered as well, and you hated that every time you saw him, you knew that at the end of the day you would toss and turn for hours trying to erase his face from your mind.

You told yourself it was just because he was the only one who didn't walk on eggshells when talking to you – or anyone for that matter – and because you liked the challenge, but deep down you knew that your feelings for him were far from hatred, and the idea of trying to find out the true meaning of them scared you.

“Gods, have I done anything to anger you so that I’m faded to marry Forrester Frey? I would do anything, please!” You asked to the faced weirwood tree, knowing you’d have no answer but desperate enough to look like a crazy woman who talks to a tree by yourself. What you did not know was that someone did hear you.

Benjicot took his blade from his waist, taking extra care to not be heard, and when he got close enough to you, he acted quickly, one arm holding your body – your arms entrapped – and the one with the blade stopping on your neck.

“My, my, look what we have in here, a lost Bracken broodmare, far away from home” Her breath got caught up on her throat with the feeling of the cold blade on her skin and her heart jumped on her chest with his body pressed against her back and his voice so close to her ear “Good thing that I found you before any other predator did, huh?”

“Let me go, please!!” You pleaded, pure panic spilling from your voice, and Benji almost moaned – he had no idea that having you pressed against his body in panic would arouse him that much “Oh no, my darling, I could not do such a thing. You just committed a crime, you see, for you are far away from your father’s lands and what fair lord would I be if I do not punish criminals like you?”

“Please, I’ll vanish from your sight in less than a minute and no one will know about this, okay? Just please, let me go!!” Your eyes were burning with unshed tears with the thought of the possible punishment he had in mind, and you didn’t stay still, moving your body in an attempt to free yourself from him even if useless, as he was taller and way stronger.

“No, no, no, my darling, I could not possibly do that, your Bracken lord can play blind on your actions, but I am a serious ruler and punish all criminals as their crimes demand” He tightened his grip on your body, his fingers pressing harder against the clothed skin of your waist, and as he continually pressed on you, a warm feeling cursed through you until it reached in between your thighs “But what punishment would be enough? Thieves, who take things that don't belong to them, have their hands cut off. Murderers, who take lives that do not belong to them, pay with their own lives. Now you, who committed invasion of lands that don’t belong to you, what could I possibly do to punish you correctly?”

Once again you pleaded, ‘please’ sounding like a repeated prayer on your lips as he inhaled the sweet smell of your hair “I could not invade your father’s lands, or I would be committing a crime of my own” He stated as if he did not listen to your pleads and when he spoke again, his voice was huskier and low like a whisper “But I could invade your territory myself”

You hated yourself for how your body reacted to his words, your thighs squeezing together when you felt the heat on your lower belly grow, and hated even more that a side of you wanted him to go ahead with his threat full of mischievous intentions. Him, on the other hand, was more than pleased to hold you that way, his front fully in contact against your behind and his groin pressed against your back.

“Please, Benjicot, lord Blackwood, please” You repeated and started struggling even more when you felt his hard cock pressed against your back, trying to move away “Please, please! What, my lady, do you want me to do?” He mocked, repeating what you said in a higher pitch, as his hand with the knife left your throat and went to your hip “You want me to be gentle?”

Another wave of heat made you close your eyes for a second, a hard sigh leaving your lips and you didn’t answer. He laughed when he heard you “This is supposed to be a punishment, but I’ll make an exception if you behave” He said, his breath hot against your ear as the hand on your hip went further down and grabbed the skirt of your dress, pulling it up.

Your neck now free from the threat of his blade, an idea came to your mind. You were not sure if it would work, but it was your only hope, so you took it. Bending your head forward to gain some impulse, you took a deep breath – bracing yourself for the upcoming pain – and shook your head back with all your strength, hitting his head on the side.

Benjicot, surprised with what had just happened and with his head pulsating, faltered his grip on you long enough for you to get rid of his arm around you and start running, your head spinning and your vision still blurry from the blow. You felt and heard when the skirt of your dress ripped, before the other man’s hand lost its grip on the fabric, but you didn’t turn around to check the damage.

With your vision still recovering and the pulsing pain in your head, you headed to the woods, still not sure if you followed the right path, only caring about getting as far of him as possible. Benjicot, on the other hand, quickly recovered from the dizziness, the pain easily subsiding, and he growled before following you, euphoric and feeling his blood rush through his body straight to his cock with the expectation of hunting you down.

You ran as fast as you could, your breathing burning in your lungs and your legs aching, and tried to dodge the trees and bushes in your way. Even with all your efforts, you heard his steps and breathing not that far away, and fear crept inside you, being the one thing that prevented you from collapsing in that moment.

He knew those woods like his own chambers – losing track of how many times he went there to hunt, explore, have a moment of peace or take out his anger on the trees – and he had the advantage of being taller than you, his muscles trained for endurance in the battlefields, so even if you ran with all your strength, it would still be easy enough for him to reach you.

“Bracken!! Do not think you can run away from your punishment, you’re still on my lands” Your step became unsteady when his voice seemed closer than you imagined and after tripping over a tree root, you couldn't keep your balance, ending up falling with your body and arms protecting you from ending face first into the grass.

As you were turning to place your hands on the ground and help you stand, you heard a twig cracking right behind you and soon enough his voice made you turn your head “Poor mare, doesn’t know her way home, but don’t worry, I’ll show you when I finish your punishment if you want”

You tried to turn yourself so you could stand back up, but before you could do anything, he caught your ankle and pulled you closer, turning you to face him “No, no my darling, you’re not escaping me again, now come here, the quicker it starts, the quicker it finishes, if you want... or you could just enjoy it”

“No, no, no!!” You repeated like a prayer and when he positioned himself between your legs, you started to punch and scratch at his chest, face and arms “Calm down, I think I was mistaken, for you are not a mare but a kitten, but no need to show your claws. I know I said that I would be gentle if you behaved and you didn’t, but I do have a soft spot for beautiful girls like you”

Quickly enough, as if your efforts meant nothing, Benjicot grabbed both your wrists and held them above your head, leaning his body closer to yours – his groin pressing against the middle of your thighs and his mouth just a few inches away, his breath hitting your face.

“You know what surprised me about your behaviour just now?” He asked, looking at your eyes, before he kissed your jaw and a hand went to your ankle “Because every time I see you, be in the Tully’s assize or the boundary, you are always looking at me so needy that makes me want to fuck you right there”

He left open-mouthed kisses through your neck as you felt the hairs on your nape stand and his hand began to move up your leg through the fabric of your dress “So why now are you pretending you do not want this?” He moved his hips forward, his hardness pressing against your clothed folds, and you didn’t have the strength to hold a moan.

“Be-because I don’t! You Blackwoods are just so ugly that I’m surprised to see something like that in the middle of a crowd” You spat, trying to regain some of your pride, but he chuckled, lifting his head with a smirk.

“Act all you can, kitten, but that moan just annulled everything you said, you know” His hand now was in your inner thigh and as he stopped talking, his calloused fingers went straight to your folds. You bit the inside of your cheeks to hold your voice and furrowed your brows, but he still looked almost amused at your efforts.

“Fuck you” You twisted in his grip but could not move enough to escape his touch and he took the chance to move his index finger through your folds, watching as you closed your eyes and your hips grounded into his touch “Oh, my lady, deny it as much as you want, but your body will remain true to its desires”

His smirk grew wider, his tongue sliding through his teeth, as his thumb found your clit and he watched in pleasure as you clenched your jaw and your legs opened wider for him. He circled your bundle of nerves with his thumb while his middle finger slid down your folds, reaching your entrance, and didn’t waste the opportunity to shove his finger inside you to the point where only his last knuckle was visible outside.

You moaned loudly, having been caught off guard, and your walls tightened around his finger “Fuck, you’re so tight, it’ll feel delicious around my cock” Benjicot started moving his finger, almost completely withdrawing before plunging it back inside, while still rubbing his thumb through your clit, and soon enough you were a mess, your thoughts fogged with the pleasure his hand was giving you.

You didn’t even notice when his hand let go of your wrists, too caught up on the feeling of his finger inside you and his pace growing faster by the second, as you fought against the undeniable pleasure you were feeling, and when he curled up his digit inside you, the thin string of pride you hung yourself by collapsed, giving in to the urge of your feelings and enjoy as he claimed you.

“M-more, please” You whispered, completely giving in to the ache of your heart. That was why you could not stray your eyes from him at every assize, that was why you would walk too close to the boundary and why you would come all the way from Stone Hedge to that specific clearing with that specific weirwood tree.

Your heart wanted him and there was no denying it, not anymore, not when his middle finger curled inside you so deliciously that made you see stars through your eyelids and not when you caught a glimpse of him and he looked at you like a starved man “Say again, kitten? I didn’t hear you” He teased, thinking you had yet again tried to deny your wishes.

“More, please, Benjicot” You said before you moaned again, your eyes fully opening now with your brows furrowed in pleasure, and for a second he wished he had a portrait painted of you like this. He pushed another finger inside, his pace now relentless with his cock throbbing through his breeches, and with his free hand he grasped the front of your dress, tearing the fabric to expose your full breasts.

“Stopped putting up a fight now, kitten? But this is not a treat, this is a punishment” He said as he curled both his fingers inside you once again before completely withdrawing from your wet cunt. He lifted the fingers that were on you seconds ago and looked at them, making a disapproving sound with his tongue “Just look at that, look at the mess you made on my fingers, huh?”

He tapped at your lower lip with his wet fingers, the smell of yourself arousing you even more “Now be a good girl and open up” And you did as he said. You closed your lips around his fingers as you felt them press at your tongue and moaned as you tasted yourself “Clean them”

You ignored the smug smirk on his lips, knowing he was enjoying bossing you around more than anything, and hollowed your cheeks sucking on his calloused digits. Now it was his turn to let out a pleased groan and when you looked at his eyes his pupils were blown, his irises darker, what almost made you moan on his fingers again.

“I’ve heard you back there by the weirwood tree, your cunt of a father wants to sell you to that old Frey?” Benjicot retreated his fingers from your mouth and ran them down your chin, your saliva running through your skin as he slowly traced a way through your neck and collarbones until he reached one of your breasts, both his digits circling your already pointy nipple as he watched your velvety skin under his touch, his smirk had gone away from his face “That old dog deserves not even a piece of you”

You felt your heart skip a beat with his words, trying not to conclude anything for he had not confirmed yet “But soon enough he won’t be a problem, don’t worry kitten” He twisted your nipple between his index and thumb, trying to calm down his anger with the thought of Forrester Frey being anywhere near you, before you asked “How?”

“Because after I finish with your punishment, no man will take you as their wife” He pinched your nipple and you moaned again, the threat mixed with his ministrations and the dark expression in his face being almost too much.

The Blackwood lord moved his other hand to the laces of his breeches, undoing them while still stimulating your breast, and your breath hitched on your throat as you looked down, fixed on his slender fingers dealing with the strings, seeing as it became loose around his hips before he had to let go of your breast to get rid of the fabric that covered his lower part.

As he took off his breeches he came back to his position between your legs, your thighs on top of his, and his smirk placed itself back on his face as he watched your eyes widen with the sight of his bare hard cock.

“You’re- this is-, you are so big” You let out, shock and want on your face as he pushed your dress up, revealing your glistening cunt to him “I know, kitten, but do not worry, it will fit” You lifted your gaze from his hips to his eyes, finding him already staring back at you, and all you could think was that you wanted him more than anything in the world.

He placed both hands on your hips, bringing you closer, and grabbed him in his hand to slide through your folds, collecting as much of your juices as he could. He wanted you, desperately, he wanted to completely fill you with his length and fuck you mercilessly until all he heard was your screams of pleasure, he wanted to ruin you to any other man and to have only you for the rest of his fucking life.

And so, with the promise of punishing you in his head, he shoved his cock all the way inside you in one thrust, leaving you gasping, your mouth opened and your eyes closed, the stretch and pain of your first time almost bringing you to tears. He had never experienced something like this before – as his previous experiences had been with whores – and didn’t even dare to move, your cunt gripping him so tightly he thought that if he moved at that moment he would cum on the spot.

As he noticed your eyes closed, he pinched your nipple “Open your eyes, kitten, I want to look at your beautiful eyes” You sighed before opening them and when you did, he noticed the tears you tried not to spill. That made something snap inside him, breaking all the will he had to hurt and punish you, and he bended down to meet your face, his breath on your face and his eyes on your lips.

“As soon as I saw you there, next to the weirwood tree, all I wanted to do was to hurt you, make you regret stepping on Blackwood territory on that golden dress of yours, but it’s rather difficult to focus with that pretty face” One of his forearms was keeping him steady as his free hand came to your breasts, the feeling of your soft skin on his calloused fingers almost making him moan “Go on, tell me how you hate me, fight me, tell me how you are disgusted by me, so I can focus on punishing you”

A moan. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but all you could do was moan and it went straight to his cock, throbbing inside your warm and tight walls, still not moving. As he glanced up, he met your teary eyes and opened mouth in an erotic portrait, he growled as he let go of the rest of his resistance and crashed his lips against yours in a desperate kiss. As your mouth was already agape when he did it, his tongue easily slipped inside and found yours, and you reached for the back of his head, your fingers curling on his black hair.

As he kissed you hungrily, he started moving, his cock almost leaving you entirely before pushing himself back inside, and the sensation of being full of him was so good that you could not control your moans. As he felt the vibrations coming from your mouth, Benjicot squeezed your breast hard and you were sure that would leave a mark – but you couldn’t care less.

As his pace grew a little faster, the pure pleasure replacing the pain of the stretch each time his hips met yours, he let go of your lips, glaring at your face with the squirms and sighs you let out. Even if his dreams were vivid, nothing would compare to having you like this – a mess of fabric, hair and red bruised lips – at the moment, the feeling of your walls always so tight around him and your soft skin on his hand made him grunt.

Your eyes went to his on that exact moment and you could swear that your walls squeezed around him at the sound. He placed his face on the crook of your neck as he started biting and placing kisses to the skin as a way to mark you, and started going down through your collarbone to the front of your chest before placing his lips to the nipple that wasn’t being stimulated.

The wet noises of skin slapping against skin and the feeling of both your nipples being teased made your eyes roll back in pleasure and now you didn’t even try to muffle your sounds anymore “Such a noisy kitten, taking me so well” He praised, lifting his head from your chest, and held your hips with both his hands, so strong that you now worried that you’d get bruises all over your body “You should be mine and not that Frey cunt”

With his firm grip on your hips, he pressed deeper into you, your back arching from the ground and trying to keep up with his movements “Please... Benji” Two of the only three words that you could pronounce at the moment – the third one being more – too caught up with pleasure to form a coherent phrase, and Benji laughed at that, full of pride for making the so beautiful and correct daughter of Amos Bracken look like a common whore “Do you want to be mine, kitten? Mine to fuck and use as I please?”

His words aroused you even more, his hoarse voice sending waves of heat straight to your cunt, and you tried to nod your head in affirmation, because that seemed like the only thing you could do at the moment “Use your words, kitten, I know you can do it” He moved one of his hands so he could brush past your clit and that made you gasp.

“Y-yes please, I want you, I want you Benji” As she nearly screamed, the man felt satisfied, his hunger for you only getting bigger with the way you moved your hips in time with his, your face making the most erotic expressions as your moans and repeated words sounded like an exclusive prayer for him.

“I’m going to fuck a baby in you, fill you with my seed so much you’ll be leaking for days, so your bloody father won’t have an excuse but to marry you to me” He grunted in between his words, moving faster and deeper as he assaulted your clit, and you started feeling a knot form inside of you, the pleasure becoming almost too much “Please, please” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, but only wanting this to never end.

“Yeah? Do you want to be my wife? To have your Bracken womb filled with Blackwood children? Your cunt to be used by a Blackwood cock? Is that what you want?” He leaned in, one of his hand still giving you pleasure, his head once again going to the crook of your neck as he grasped at your thigh, squeezing the flesh as he moved you so you could wrap your leg around his waist, and he heard you when you weakly repeated “Yesyesyes”

“So I’ll make sure you get until the last drop of my seed to, soon enough, you be swelling with my babe” He whispered into your ear as he pressed further to your clit and his pace soon enough was so fast you thought he would break you. Your moans got louder as you wrapped both your legs around his waist, the knot on your lower abdomen about to snap, and he looked at you before whispering “Go on, cum for me, kitten”

And that’s when it happened. The knot snapped within you as you flooded with pleasure, your whole body spasming as your walls grew impossibly tighter around him, milking him, and with just a few more thrusts he shoved himself as deep as he could inside you before he shot his load straight to your core, coating your womb. As he started coming down from his high, he captured your lips in a sloppy kiss and let most of his weight on top of you, which you didn’t care as his warmth and his skin on yours was all you wanted at the moment.

You let out a dissatisfied grunt as he removed his softening cock from your cunt, some of his seed spilling from you, and lied to your side, pulling you to his embrace “Did you really mean it? Marrying me?”

“Yes” You said, the warmth spreading across your face “Well, you filled me with your seed and the possibility of me getting pregnant is almost certain now. Marrying you is the right thing to do” You tried to be cautious with your words, but for the love of the Gods, he had just fucked you in the middle of the woods, caution was one thing you had abandoned long ago “Okay, I admit that since I first saw you in the assize I haven’t been able to remove you from my thoughts and I dreaded the day that the news of your possible engagement would come.”

You took a breath before finishing “We have nothing to do with each other, our families fucking hate one another, but every time I got inside Riverrun fortress, I hoped you’d be there” You said, absently moving your fingers through the skin of his chest, but did not dare to meet his gaze, for you were now as embarrassed as you could be.

“I am glad to hear that, for I have almost the exact same feelings as you. I ached for being able to get closer to you at the assize and to kiss you when I saw you standing next to the boundary. I almost went to Kermit Tully to ask him to propose a betrothal between us” He answered, his hand on the back of your head caressing through your hair. You lifted your head from his chest, his words making your heart flutter, and he leaned his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss, both your and his feelings pouring down into each other.

“But I must stop you from going straight to my father, for he would kill you before you would be able to ask to see him” One of your hands went to his cheek as you parted to breathe, only now noticing you left nail marks there, and stroke his skin.

“Oh, I do know that, for I would never take you back to Stone Hedge with your dress like this” He laughed when he saw your eyes widen at his words, remembering now of the tore skirt and bust of your dress, and quickly added “I’ll give you my cloak and we’ll go to Raventree Hall for you to change, after that we’ll go straight to Riverrun and ask Lord Tully to bless our union, for your father would never go against an order of his Lord Paramount”

“That sounds like a solid plan, not that bad for a Blackwood” You teased and he smirked “And you were not that bad for a Bracken” You gasped in false shock at his words, lightly slapping his shoulder, and he laughed “It will surely be good to have you as my wife, a good way to keep things interesting”

“I hope so, you Blackwoods are not usually that fun though” You bit your lower lip as you’d seen him arch his brows “Well, it depends on what fun you’re talking about, because at least in one kind of ‘fun’ I exceed expectations and you just proved it right”

"Shut up!" You exclaimed and he turned you again before kissing you.

“Don’t need to ask twice, my lady” He said and you kissed him again.

It could have not been the way you expected it to go, but one thing you could say: the Gods did grant you a way to free yourself from a marriage with someone twice your age, still uniting two people together, in hopes of a prosperous – and maybe more peaceful – future ahead.

So that's it! As I wrote it mainly for the smut part (oh god, what a good first impression) the plot part may be a little off, I'm sorry. Please, feel free to leave a note if you guys liked it and maybe soon I post another, a series this time.

[starlightkun]

➺ word count: 9.9k ➺ genre: exes to lovers, second chance romance, angst with a happy ending :), some hurt/comfort, fluff, ‘we broke up but somehow keep ending up as each other’s plus-ones’ trope (is that a trope? idk) ➺ warnings: mentions of death/depictions of grief, family and interpersonal conflict ➺ author’s note: i am a 5-star general in the idgaf war on the side of gaf 🫡

“This is us now, remember? Just weddings and funerals.”

“If you need anything, call me.”

That’s what Sungchan had said, two months ago, when the two of you ended things on fairly amicable terms.

“Y/N?” It hurt to hear his voice saying your name again. With such surprise, you’d obviously woken him up at this hour on a Saturday.

“Sungchan, hey,” you winced at the awkward crack in your voice. “Did I wake you up? Sorry…”

“No, it’s fine. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, uhm, I have a-a favor to ask…”

He was silent, letting you go ahead and make your request.

“Are you busy today?” You balled your hand into a fist, digging your fingernails into your palm. “My cousin’s wedding is today and my plus-one bailed on me last minute. It’s fine if you’re busy—Actually never mind, you’re probably busy and this weird—”

“I can do it.” He cleared his throat away from the speaker, and you could hear his sheets shifting around as he sat up. “What time should I pick you up?”

“Thank you,” you said again, sitting down ahead of the ceremony.

Sungchan took the seat beside you, adjusting his suit jacket. “I was supposed to be your plus-one for this anyway, wasn’t I?”

You nodded.

He flashed you a smile. “No need to thank me then. At least not for a tenth time.”

You chuckled lightly, running your hands over the material over your knees. “Sorry. I’m still freaked from my friend canceling on me last-minute, I guess.”

“Oh, I thought you were feeling awkward because you brought me.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Well, that too, I guess.”

“So who were you bringing? That canceled?”

“Chaeyeon.”

He let out a laugh at that. “Well of course she flaked.”

“I know. She volunteered after we… After she heard I wouldn’t be bringing you anymore,” you admitted. “It’s hard telling her no.”

Music started playing then, and a hush fell over the crowd.

At the reception, you were sat at a table with some older aunties and uncles that you hadn’t seen since you were little.

“Oh, this must be Sungchan!” One of the aunties gasped in delight as soon as you introduced yourself, before you could even begin introducing Sungchan. At your surely startled look, she explained, “Your mom posts pictures all the time.”

“Right. Of course,” you nodded, struggling to think of something to say.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Sungchan greeted them all politely.

“Even taller in person,” One auntie giggled to another.

“And more handsome!” The other said back.

“Y/N, you’ve grown so much since the last time I saw you,” one of the uncles saved you. “What do you do now?”

“Oh, I’m getting my master’s in—” You cut yourself off upon spotting the bride and groom making their way to your table to greet everyone. You weren’t exceptionally close with this cousin, but the wedding was close enough in distance that you felt obligated to go, especially because your mother was out of town. One of you had to make an appearance.

She leant down to kiss all the older relatives’ cheeks first, then you got up to give her and her husband hugs and your congrats.

“Thank you for coming, Y/N,” she was beaming as she looked expectantly at Sungchan behind you.

“Uhm, Sooyoung, this is Sungchan,” you introduced them quietly.

“Congratulations,” he bowed to them.

“Of course!” Sooyoung hugged him as well. “You know, the older cousins had bets, we all thought it’d be you guys next! I was so worried when Y/N hadn’t posted you in a while. But I guess I was worried for nothing.”

She and her husband laughed before taking off for the next table of guests. As chatter discussing when you and Sungchan would be getting married erupted at your own table, you pretended you couldn’t hear it as you latched onto his forearm and announced loudly, “I’m thirsty, let’s get some drinks!”

Sungchan allowed himself to be yanked off into the crowd, to the drinks table on the other side of the venue. You skin was still on fire when you arrived, refusing to look at him as you instead carefully scoured the drinks options.

“Here.” He handed you a glass of your favorite drink.

“Thanks,” you huffed, gulping down half of it in one go.

The lucky couple were on the dance floor now for their first dance, and you gnawed on your bottom lip as you watched them. God, why the hell did you even bring Sungchan? So you didn’t look like a lonely loser? Was this really much better?

“Do you want to dance?” He nudged your arm, nodding to where others had joined the couple on the dance floor. An upbeat song was playing, and plenty of fun dancing was happening.

Anything to distract yourself. “Sure.”

Sungchan put your glasses back down before offering you a hand. Against your better judgment, you placed your hand atop his and let him guide you out onto the edge of the dance floor. There, he let go of your hand again and kept a polite distance between the two of you as he started getting into some rather silly dance moves. You couldn’t fight the smile on your face as you watched him flail his gangly limbs around for what you knew was your benefit.

“I forgot how bad of a dancer you are, Sungchan,” you covered your mouth as you laughed.

“Only when I’m trying to make you laugh,” he grinned back, pulling your hand down from your face.

You kept your hands down as you matched his moves, freely giggling this time. When the song changed to a slower one, you looked between him and your table uncertainly, trying to gauge if he wanted to exit the dance floor.

Sungchan looked down at you and shrugged, once again offering you a hand. And once again, against your better judgment, you placed yours atop it and let him pull you closer. You put your other hand on his shoulder as his rested on your waist. This close, you could smell his familiar expensive cologne that he only brought out for fancy events—the last time you’d smelled it was at your anniversary dinner six months ago. His warm breaths washed over your ear, and you couldn’t see much else other than his nice tie that you knew very well was his only one, which matched perfectly with your nice outfit that you were wearing (also your only one).

“I haven’t told my family either,” he murmured, not breaking the slow pace he was swaying the two of you at.

You looked up at him, feeling guilty tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He knew, of course he knew. He was smiling bittersweetly down at you.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I still haven’t told my family that we broke up yet.”

“Sorry,” you apologized hoarsely, even though he already said it was okay.

“Me too.”

You tentatively leaned your head on his chest. He didn’t stop you or tense up. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah, you too.”

That’s what you’d said back, when you’d broken up.

You hadn’t seen Sungchan since your cousin’s wedding sixteen days ago, and yes, you were absolutely counting the days. And yet it still surprised you to see his caller ID lighting up your phone screen. It didn’t surprise you so much the speed with which you picked up his call.

“Sungchan?”

There was heavy breathing on the other end, punctuated by a thin, quiet whine.

“Sungchan?!” You repeated, jumping to your feet off your couch. “Are you okay?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry…” He sniffled, and you could already imagine his tear-stained face.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you reassured him gently. “What’s going on?”

“Are you busy right now?” He asked through a sob. “I’m sorry, my grandmother’s funeral is today and—”

“I’ll be over in ten.”

“Thank you,” Sungchan mumbled into your shoulder as you hugged each other just past his front door.

“I’m sorry, Sungchan,” you whispered, squeezing him as tight as you could. “I’m so sorry.”

Sungchan had been really close to his grandmother, she was practically a third parent to him growing up. He shook in your arms now, and you continued to hold him close.

“We need to leave soon, or we’re going to be late,” he declared, finally pulling back. “Oh, God, your shirt. I’m sorry.”

You looked down at your black blouse, where there was a large pooling of tears and presumably snot as well. You waved his concerns away. “It’s okay. You get ready, I’ll take care of it.”

As Sungchan got dressed in his room, you took a damp washcloth to your top in the kitchen, cleaning it off as best you could. It was black, it’s not like you could really see much in the first place. You were waiting for him in the living room when he came back out mostly dressed, sheepishly holding out his singular nice tie to you.

“Can you help me?” He requested. “My fingers are shaking too much.”

“Of course.” You took it and he sat down on the arm of the couch. Standing in front of him, you hooked the material around the back of his neck, then looped it easily, your own fingers moving with muscle memory. Sungchan knew how to tie a tie, but you had insisted he show you how to tie one. Whenever you two went out to events together that necessitated him wearing one, you would help him put it on, then he’d help you with your necklace in return. Really, it was just an excuse to exchange kisses in between, which you refrained from doing this time.

“You should know…” Sungchan’s head was down, watching you adjust his tie. “I still haven’t told them. I’m sorry.”

You gave the tie a pat to signal that you were finished, and smiled softly at him. “It’s fine. You’ve got other things to worry about today.”

“Oh, Sungchan, Y/N,” Sungchan’s mother found you as soon as you had stepped foot in her house for the wake, kissing her son’s cheek before enveloping you in her arms.

“Hi, Mrs. Jung,” you hugged her back. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Her eyes were misty when you pulled back. She kept you close, though, fixing a stray piece of hair for you. “Sungchan said you weren’t going to be able to make it.”

“She got someone to cover for her,” Sungchan explained for you.

Mrs. Jung smiled and nodded. “Thank you, sweetheart. My mom adored you.”

“She was a wonderful woman,” you agreed fondly.

“Here, Y/N, let’s get something to drink,” Sungchan suggested, gently ushering you away from his mom with a hand on the small of your back.

You gave her hand one last squeeze before letting him guide you over to the kitchen. It was devoid of other mourners, and you silently watched him take down two glasses from the cabinet and fill them up with water.

“Do you want to go outside?” You asked as he handed you your water.

He just nodded, and you took his free hand to pull him over towards the door that you knew led to the backyard. The two of you were the only ones out here, which made sense, as it was the middle of winter, but you didn’t complain as the cold air nipped at any bare skin.

“I don’t get it,” he stated, staring out at the dry, brown grass. His words came out as white puffs in the crisp air.

“Get what?” You replied quietly.

“What I’m even supposed to be doing right now. Here,” he explained, and you watched his throat bob up and down as he swallowed thickly. “I’m sick of crying. I at least don’t want to cry for four straight hours in front of a bunch of people.”

“Why not?”

“Why don’t I want to cry for four straight hours in front of a bunch of people?” He repeated incredulously, staring at you this time.

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “She’s your grandmother, you’re grieving. If that’s how you feel, like you need to cry for four straight hours… Then you should.”

He shook his head, taking a sip of his water despite the ice cubes in it. “Not here. I’ll cry for four hours later.”

“Okay.”

“Talk to me about something. Anything,” he prompted you, shuffling closer until you were shoulder-to-shoulder.

You looked away from his red eyes, telling yourself that they were watering from the cold. “Uhm, I watched this documentary about penguins the other day.”

“Penguins?”

“I fell asleep halfway through, though…”

Sungchan laughed loudly at that, keeling forward as he wiped at the tears that finally spilled over. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you watched him, and you didn’t even try to defend yourself. Once he had righted himself a little bit, still teary-eyed and grinning broadly, he nudged you with his elbow, “Well tell me what you remember from before you fell asleep.”

“Alright, alright…”

“Thank you again, Y/N,” Sungchan sighed as the two of you approached his front door that evening. “You’re… I owe you one.”

“Just repaying the favor.”

“Well…” He looked between you and his front door awkwardly. “Uhm, goodnight, I guess.”

“Are you actually going to cry for four hours now?”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Maybe three?”

You took a deep breath. “I know you didn’t want to cry in front of all those people, and I know we’re… but I can stay, if you want. Or not, if you need to be alone.”

“Can you?” He smiled weakly, his voice cracking. “I felt like I took up enough of your time today.”

“No, of course I can, Sungchan,” you reassured him.

He unlocked the front door and you followed him inside. His apartment hadn’t changed much, except in one major way—all the pictures of you two were missing. They hadn’t been replaced, you noted, the places they used to sit now starkly empty. You didn’t comment on that as the two of you silently made your way towards his room.

Sungchan handed you some clothing, and you took them into the bathroom to change out of your nice funeral outfit. Leaving your clothes folded on the bathroom counter, you waited for Sungchan to give you the okay that he was ready for you to emerge.

He was already sitting up against his headboard when you entered, and you sat down on the empty side of the bed, leaving some space between you two.

“I feel like shit,” he said bluntly, fingers messing with the blanket over his lap. “I wish I was at the part where I felt nothing.”

“I get that,” you agreed softly.

“I-I was supposed to—” He was cut off by a sniffle, and wiped at his cheeks as tears began streaming down. “I was supposed to see her. But I was too busy. And two days later she was gone.”

“Sungchan, you couldn’t have known.” You offered a hand out towards him in the space between you.

“Can I—”

“Yeah, whatever you need.”

He turned onto his side and shuffled around and down until he was curled up on top of your lap, head pressed into your middle. You pulled the blanket back over him, rubbing his back as more and more tears surfaced.

“I can’t believe she’s gone…” he blubbered into the oversized crewneck you were wearing. “I can’t even—can’t comprehend that I’ll never hug her again.”

“I know, Channie,” you murmured, feeling your own eyes water sympathetically. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

The word had slipped out without you even thinking, and you had a split-second of panic as you kept the same rhythm of rubbing his back, hoping he wouldn’t notice. If he did, he didn’t say anything, simply nestling further into you.

“It hurts, Y/N,” he whimpered. “Everything hurts. My chest, my heart, my head from crying so fucking much.”

“Do you want me to grab you an ibuprofen for your head?”

“No, stay with me.”

“Okay, Channie.” You ran your fingers through his hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sungchan eventually cried himself to sleep like that, and you didn’t have it in you to try to worm your way out while he was passed out. So you fell asleep there too, cradling his head close to you and with the familiar, comforting pressure of him atop you.

You were awoken by sunlight across your lids, and tried to turn over away from the windows, stopped by the immovable weight on you. You gave up with a grunt, throwing an arm over your face instead.

“Shit, sorry…” Sungchan mumbled, rolling off of you and back to the other side of the bed. “Didn’t mean to trap you here.”

You peered at him from under your arm with one eye, offering him a sleepy smile. “It’s fine. How are you feeling?”

“Head hurts. Sad. Whatever, you know. But a lot better than if you hadn’t stayed. Thank you.”

“Good, good.” You sat up and yawned. “I’ll get you something for your head.”

“Hey, I am sorry if this was weird for you…”

You gave him as casual of a shrug as you could, hoping it came across as cool and nonchalant. “We did this before we dated too, remember? Sleepovers?”

“Yeah, and I though my heart was going to give out every time,” he laughed, rubbing his face.

You chuckled, swinging your feet over the edge of the bed. “Me too.”

After breakfast, you changed back into your clothes from the wake and stopped at the front door to say goodbye to Sungchan.

“Keep in touch, okay?” You requested, getting on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. “At least let me know you’re alive?”

He was quiet as you let go and dropped back down to flat feet, mouth opening and closing as he seemed to be putting his words together.

“Y/N—” Sungchan’s voice was hoarse as his hand cupped your cheek. He paused, puffy eyes searching your face. You froze, too swept away at being this close to him again, letting him tilt your chin up, leaning in as he did. As soon as his lips hesitantly ghosted over yours, your fingers instinctively wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him down to fully seal your mouths together. His lips moved against yours so gingerly, so sweetly, you felt like you might melt.

When you finally pulled back for air, a thin string of saliva connected you two for a moment before it split. You immediately ducked your head and sighed, “Bad idea, God, Sungchan, I’m sorry.”

You weren’t even sure if you were apologizing for stopping, or letting it happen in the first place, or both.

“But you—”

“You’re not in a good place right now,” you explained ruefully, stepping back fully. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“Oh.” He looked down at his feet dejectedly. “No, Y/N, don’t feel bad. You’re right, I’m sorry for doing that to you—”

“No, it’s fine, Sungchan, really. I just don’t think it’s a good time—”

“I get it. Uhm, thanks.”

“I meant it though, keep in touch. I don’t want to have to find out from Shotaro if you’re okay.”

He nodded and smiled, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. And hey, next wedding or funeral you need a plus-one for, let me know.”

“Maybe that’s us now. Weddings and funerals,” you chuckled.

“Ha, yeah.”

Giving his forearm one last squeeze, you opened the front door. “See you at the next one, Sungchan.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“Pleasepleaseplease pick up…” You muttered to your ceiling as you paced around your living room, listening to the phone ring way too many times for comfort. It went to voicemail, and you swore as it beeped through for you to leave a message. “Fuck—Uh, hey, Sungchan. If you’re listening to this within like five minutes of me calling, please call me back. Long story short, it’s a funeral. Uhm, let me know if you can come. Thanks.”

You hung up and debated immediately calling him again, just in case. Before you could click the call button, though, your screen was overtaken with an incoming call from him. You let out a breath of relief, immediately picking up.

“Oh, Sungchan, thank God,” you groaned.

“Y/N, hey, are you alright?” His voice was gentle but obviously out of breath.

“Yeah, sorry if my voicemail was freaky. I found out last-minute that my mom is making me go to the funeral for her great-uncle twice removed or something that I’ve never met. I totally get if you don’t want to come, but—”

“I’ll come. I know how they are,” he assured you. “I can be at your place in five.”

“Oh, you are a lifesaver, I love you, thank you!” You gushed, hanging up the phone.

“You’re going to be just fine, Y/N,” Sungchan reassured you, squeezing your shoulder before dropping his hand back down to the small of your back as you approached the house that your mom had given you the address to.

“I know,” you breathed out, forcing a smile as you looked up at him. “Because I’ve got you here.”

You didn’t even know whose house this was, but the front door was unlocked, and many cars were parked along the streetfront. People donned in black were milling around inside, a constant, hushed din throughout the house as soon as you entered. You looked around for your mom, needing to let her know that you’d arrived.

“Y/N!” A booming voice called out your name as you turned from the foyer into the sitting room, and you tried not to wince visually.

Spinning around to greet the middle-aged man who had said your name, you gave him a canned smile and as fleeting of a hug as you could as he already had his arms out for one. “Hi, Uncle.”

“Have you gotten even bigger since the last time I saw you?” He laughed, pinching your cheek.

You turned your head away from him uncomfortably. “That was when I was middle school, I think. I have gotten taller, yes.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Jung Sungchan, I don’t think we’ve met, sir,” Sungchan firmly put himself between you and the uncle, offering his hand out.

The older man shook it, looking Sungchan up and down with an appraising eye. “No, I don’t believe we have. I’m Y/N’s mother’s cousin. You’re…?”

“Y/N’s boyfriend,” he confirmed authoritatively.

“Ah, really?” The uncle’s eyes practically sparkled. He looked around, waving someone over. “Jooeun! Come, meet Y/N’s boyfriend!”

A woman maybe five or so years older than you joined him, draping herself over his arm, her sharp gaze on where you held onto the crook of Sungchan’s elbow. The uncle continued introductions, “Jooie, dear, this is little Y/N’s boyfriend, uh, something Jungchan—”

“Jung Sungchan,” he swiftly corrected him, flashing a polite smile to the woman as well.

Jooeun wasn’t familiar to you whatsoever, she was definitely younger than you remember the uncle’s wife being when you last saw him over a decade ago now. New wife, you surmised.

“Wow…” She nodded, not saying anything else after trailing off.

“There you are, Y/N!” The familiar voice of your mother appeared at your side, obviously flustered as she hugged you just to lean in to say through gritted teeth, “You are late, young lady.”

“Hi, Mom,” you forced a smile in return, ending the disquieting hug as soon as possible.

“Oh, Sungchan!” She threw her arms around him next, her joy genuine this time.

“Hi, Ms. Y/L/N,” he robotically leaned down to hug her back. “I apologize for our tardiness, that was entirely my fault. I was late picking Y/N up and—”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she waved off his apology, patting his cheek with her hand that wasn’t holding a glass of wine. “The man’s dead, he’s not going anywhere.”

Sungchan smoothly removed himself from her grasp and wrapped his arm around you again. “Of course. Thank you. And I’m sorry for your loss.”

“So sweet, as always,” she laughed fondly. Turning to the other relatives, she explained, “Sungchan is one of the few things my daughter’s done right, I swear. I don’t know why he sticks around, honestly!”

“Excuse me—ladies’ room,” you mumbled under the laughter that had erupted from the entire circle (save for Sungchan), jerking yourself out of his warm grasp and into the crowd. You could feel bile rising in your throat as you searched blindly for a bathroom.

Slamming the bathroom door shut behind you in a far corner of the house, you tilted your head back as you took deep breaths, trying to keep your tears at bay. You didn’t even know the guy who died, crying at his wake would be fucking weird. Not to mention your mom would just make another snide comment about you being sensitive as always if she saw you like this. The more you thought about it, the harder it was to hold them back.

Once you’d somewhat composed yourself again, taking a tissue to dab at the corner of your eyes, you fanned your face, convincing yourself that your eyes weren’t that red, and unlocked the door. The house was eerily quiet, however, quieter than when you’d entered the bathroom, even accounting for the isolated corner that you were in. Mourners eyed you rather obviously as you walked by, whispering among themselves. Your skin prickled uncomfortably under their gazes.

Before you arrived at the front room that you’d left everyone else at, Sungchan found you, his head easy to spot over the crowd. He caught your elbow in a gentle grasp, ushering you in the direction you had just come from.

“Let’s step outside for a second,” he murmured to you, pushing the back door open.

The chill of winter was still present in the air as snowflakes had begun falling while you were inside. He immediately slipped his suit jacket off, draping it over your shoulders.

“What’s going on?” You asked him after the door had closed behind the two of you, watching as he started pacing in front of you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he sighed. “She’s always like that, isn’t she?”

“I’m sorry, she’s usually better in front of people, especially you; she just had too much to drink I think—”

“No, God, why are you apologizing for her being awful to you?” He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. “I’m sorry, I should’ve seen that sooner. It shouldn’t have had to happen right in front of my face for me to know. God, it was always right there, if I had just opened my stupid fucking eyes. I am so sorry.”

You dug your teeth out of your bottom lip, inhaling shakily. “I’m sorry—”

“You don’t need to apologize for her. She should be apologizing to you. They all should.”

“No, I’m apologizing for me. I… didn’t tell the whole truth when I broke up with you. I did need space, but I didn’t tell you why.” Your tears were freezing cold as they fell down your cheeks, but you didn’t bother wiping them. Your words finally paused Sungchan’s angry pacing, and he slowed to a stop to listen to you. “Imagine the best part of you being somebody else… I didn’t want my family’s expectations to make me hate you. I needed to… figure out how I felt about myself. But after, I couldn’t even tell them that we broke up. Because I-I didn’t want to disappoint them again, make them hate me even more for taking away the only part of me they liked: you.”

“Oh, Y/N…” He breathed out, face contorting in pain. “I’m sorry, for whatever I did that made you feel like you couldn’t tell me this before.”

“You were just trying to impress your girlfriend’s family and diffuse the tension, it’s understandable,” you sniffed, dabbing at your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater.

“No, I should’ve been defending you, on your side one hundred percent. I was your boyfriend, not theirs.”

“Can—” You pulled the suit jacket tighter around you as a gust of wind blew in snowflakes under the awning you were standing beneath. “I think I’d like to go home.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” Sungchan nodded in the direction of the side gate for the two of you to make a stealthy exit.

The back door opened then, and you didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

“Y/N! There you are!” Your mother was accompanied by the heating from inside the house continuously seeping out as she stood in the open doorway. “Brr! It’s cold. Get back in here and give Sungchan his coat back, sweetie, the poor dear has got to be freezing to death!”

“I gave it to her, and she’s keeping it,” Sungchan replied firmly, pointedly flipping up the collar of the jacket to protect your neck against the wind. “Thank the host for us, we’re leaving now.”

“Now?! But you just—”

“Now. Goodbye.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, ushering you away from her and towards the gate again.

“Y/N, I can’t believe you’re so ungrateful that you’re making Sungchan—” She had descended the short step from the house to the porch to grab your arm and try to halt your leaving.

Sungchan took her hand and removed it from your wrist, stepping in front of you and fully concealing you from her. “Apparently I wasn’t clear enough earlier. You’re the ungrateful one. You have a daughter who is kind enough to put up with your bullshit—Constantly dragging her out to places last minute and humiliating her in front of people to make yourself feel better. You should be ashamed to call yourself a parent. Honestly, I can’t believe that someone so kind, so incredibly down-to-Earth and considerate of others was raised by someone as cruel as you. So yes, we will be going, and I don’t want you to say another word to her while we do.”

He once again wrapped his arm around you, hurrying through the freshly fallen snow. Shoving the gate open, he continued marching you on down the street away from that house until the two of you were able to finally hail a taxi. Sungchan opened the door and guided you in first, and then firmly shut it behind you, giving your apartment address to the driver. He brushed the snowflakes from your hair and shoulders with rough but attentive hands, and you sat patiently as he did so. His entire face was red, and you weren’t sure if it was from the cold or not, as a vein bulged out on his forehead that usually wasn’t there.

“Thank you, Sungchan,” you muttered, scooting over until your sides were pressed together, then took one of his hands, lacing your fingers with his.

He squeezed your hand tightly, patting the back of it with his other hand. “I’ll do it again. As many times as you want me to, as many times as I have to.”

At your front door, Sungchan was still holding your hand as you approached with your key in your other hand. You turned to him hopefully, “Do you want to stay for dinner? We can watch a movie or something…”

“Of course. Whatever you want, Y/N,” he agreed.

Your apartment of course didn’t have pictures of you and Sungchan, you had moved in after the two of you broke up. He’d only caught glimpses of the inside the couple times he’d picked you up for your cousin’s wedding and the funeral today since then—this was the first time he was actually entering, and looked around with interest as he followed you towards your room.

“Cute place,” he commented.

“Thanks.” You rifled through your drawers to grab a couple specific items of clothing that you knew were deep in there. “Here.”

He looked down at the pair of sweatpants and graphic t-shirt you’d handed him, arching an eyebrow at you. “I thought you’d lost these…?”

“I meant to give them back,” you insisted half-heartedly.

“Really? When?”

“When they stopped being comfy…”

He laughed, landing a large hand on your head to pat your hair affectionately. “Oh, I’m sure.”

“What do you want to watch?” You asked, putting Sungchan’s plate of food on your coffee table and picking up the remote to turn the TV on. “Oh! I saw this documentary about yokai the other day that I think you’d like!”

“Really? Did you stay awake for the whole thing this time?” Sungchan teased as you opened the app on your TV.

“No, I didn’t watch because I thought you—” You cut yourself off. “I found something else. Do you want to watch it?”

“Sounds interesting,” he said, taking a big bite of his food. “Pull it up, if you think you can stay awake.”

“You know I like to fall asleep to documentaries on purpose because the narrators’ voices are relaxing,” you huffed. As you started searching it up, something occurred to you, and you turned to Sungchan with a thoughtful frown on your face. “Hey, why were you ready for a funeral so quick anyway?”

He pushed around some of his food with his utensil, not meeting your eyes. “Mm, Taro dragged me out on this double date thing…”

“Oh.”

He shrugged, then rubbed your back, letting his hand rest there. “I’m glad I bailed. Nowhere else I’d rather be. Honest.”

You leaned into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Channie. There’s no one else I would’ve wanted with me today. Really.”

“This is us now, remember? Just weddings and funerals.”

“And the occasional sleepover,” you mused, clicking play on the documentary.

“And the occasional sleepover,” he echoed, pulling you closer and resting his head on yours.

That night, the two of you winded down after some very interesting documentaries—with you only beginning to nod off on Sungchan’s shoulder towards the end of the second one—working in quiet symbiosis to clean the dishes and tidy up. When you saw Sungchan start heading towards the couch, you felt a pull in your gut. Then, before you could think it through, the words were tumbling out of your mouth, something about how your couch was way too small for him to sleep comfortably. And after a beat of hesitation, of giving you time to backpedal if you wanted, he was following you down the hall towards your room.

The empty space between you felt insurmountable after you settled under the covers, like there was a whole ocean there instead of your duvet. You didn’t go to sleep wrapped up in Sungchan’s arms, or with your head in the crook of his neck, or with his hand gently carding through your hair like you used to. But as you closed your eyes and rolled onto your side away from him, trying to grasp at the thing that was poking out of your heart so you could finally pull it out, you at least got to go to sleep listening to his even breaths. And for right now, that meant everything.

“Do you think…” You handed Sungchan his cup of coffee in the morning, trying not to ruminate too much about how cute he looked with his bedhead. “Do you think we’ll ever…?”

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised as he slowly lifted the mug to his mouth and took a sip, then lowered it back down the counter. “Ever…?”

You pulled at the sleeves of your hoodie anxiously. “You know, get back together?”

He sighed, rubbing his eye with the heel of his palm. “Y/N…”

“I’m sorry, that was—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he reassured you, taking another sip. “I just… Don’t you get it?”

“Get what?”

“I’m just waiting on you. To be ready, finally figure out how you feel about yourself. Until you want me back in your space again.”

“But I thought you were on a double date yesterday?”

“We hadn’t even gotten to the restaurant when you called. I didn’t know it was a date until Shotaro tried wrestling my phone from me when he saw it was you. That’s why I missed your call in the first place, by the way.”

Hot tears pricked at your eyes, but you couldn’t even pinpoint why you were crying this time. Sungchan stood up from the chair he had been sitting in at your kitchen table, crossing your kitchen in one long stride to wrap his arms around you and bring you into his chest. You buried your face in his shirt as you tried to get a handle on even a single thing you were thinking or feeling. He stroked the back of your head with a large hand, encouraging you to breathe. You wiped your eyes and looked up at Sungchan. His image wavered in your watery vision, but you could just make out that his eyes were teary, too. Your gaze flicked down to his mouth, swept up in being this close to him again, overwhelmed at how sweet he was, how perfect he was. Apparently reading your mind, he brushed some hair away from your face before leaning down to drop a fleeting kiss to your forehead.

He stepped back with a bittersweet smile pulling at his lips. “So that’s how you felt then.”

“I’m sorry,” you blubbered. “I’m not-I’m—”

“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “Take all the time you need.”

[jung yusung: attached image]

You blinked several times at the text notification that had just popped up at the top of your phone screen. Then it was followed by another.

[jung yusung: We didn’t have your address, so I’m just making sure you had this]

It was a wedding invite, for Sungchan’s brother’s wedding next month. You did technically still have it on your phone calendar, leftover from when you’d saved the date way back when it was announced while you were still dating Sungchan. As far as Yusung should be concerned, to your understanding, your address should be Sungchan’s address, and he already sent your invite months ago.

You dragging Sungchan to a distant cousin’s wedding was one thing, but Sungchan and his brother were quite close, and you had also become good friends with him and his fiancée in the time that you and Sungchan dated. It just felt wrong to lie to them.

Right as you had started typing your explanation to him, another text came through.

[jung yusung: Sungchan told us yesterday that you two broke up. We want you there because you’re family either way]

You immediately called Sungchan. It rang a few times before he picked up.

“Y/N?” His tone was clearly worried.

“Hey, Sungchan,” you smiled half-heartedly despite the fact that he couldn’t see it.

“Hey,” he replied, relieved presumably at the fact that it didn’t sound like you were actively crying. You imagined that he was smiling a little bit as well. “How are you?”

“I’m alright. How about you?”

“Good. Just uh, leaving a fitting, actually.”

“For your brother’s wedding?”

“Yeah, it’s coming up fast.”

“Next month.”

“Oh, you remember.”

“Actually, Sungchan, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about—”

“I’m glad you called, I need to tell you—”

“Me first?” You requested.

“Okay.”

“Why did you tell your family that we broke up?”

“You know.” He paused. “Uhm, because we did?”

Fair. “Yeah, but why now?”

He let out a deep sigh. “Ahh… I didn’t tell them at first, because I kind of didn’t want to believe it, and then I was ashamed. That I couldn’t keep the best thing that ever happened to me. Like, you said it wasn’t my fault, and I believed you, but I felt like if I told them, it would still look like that. That I failed somehow. I just didn’t want to deal with that. But after the last funeral, that whole thing with your mom… I couldn’t keep being selfish like that. Especially with Yusung and Hyesoo’s wedding coming up, they’d be expecting you and me there as a couple. It wouldn’t have been fair to you.”

“Thanks.”

“How do you know I finally told them?”

“Yusung told me,” you admitted, biting your cheek. “That’s why I’m calling. He personally re-invited me to the wedding, even though we’re not together. I wanted to talk to you about it, though. If it’s going to be weird for you, I won’t go.”

“No, Y/N,” he immediately replied. “I know you’re friends with Yusung and Hyesoo. They miss you and want you there, too.”

“You’re sure?”

“Absolutely. Weddings and funerals, right?”

“Right,” you confirmed.

“I’m going to get there early and have groomsman stuff to do, but uh, I’ll have Taro pick you up, okay?”

“Sounds good.”

“Great.”

Today was Yusung and Hyesoo’s wedding, and you were fixing your hair for maybe the fiftieth time in the bathroom mirror when your doorbell rang, followed by a series of peppy knocks. Rushing to grab your phone and purse, you opened it to greet your friend on the other side with a breathless smile.

“Taro, hi,” you hugged him. Shotaro had been the one to introduce you and Sungchan in the first place, a mutual friend, though you knew he and Sungchan were friends for years before you ever met.

“Hey, Y/N,” Shotaro squeezed you back. “How you been?”

“Oh, good.” You shuffled out and locked your front door behind you. “How about you?”

“Same old.” He shrugged, grinned, and spun his keys around his finger. “Ready to go?”

“Yep!”

The ceremony hadn’t started yet, people were still milling around, chatting, and finding seats. Taking your seats to one side of the aisle, you anxiously smoothed over your clothes as you tried not to feel like you were intruding. Yusung had personally invited you despite everything. You were here to support your friends.

“Relax, Y/N,” Taro had apparently sensed your nerves, flashing you another smile. “You’re not the one getting married.”

“I know, I know,” you laughed, flexing your fingers in your lap to try to get out some of the nervous tension. “Thank you, by the way.”

“For anything specific, or…?”

“Taking Sungchan on that double date. Or, at least trying to.” At your friend’s skeptical look, you added, “Really, I didn’t want him to stare at a wall the whole time or something. I wanted him to keep being him.”

“I did have to trick him, he wouldn’t have said yes if he knew it was a date,” he informed you with a sigh.

“I did hear about that…”

“I don’t know your whole situation, and you don’t have to tell me. I’m sure you needed the space,” he lowered his voice and scooted in towards you as to not broadcast your conversation to every other person sitting around you. “But… Sungchan isn’t the same as before. He’s never going to be the same again. Whether or not you two get back together, he can’t just go back to how he was. And I don’t think he wants to.”

“I feel the same way,” you admitted, glancing over to where Sungchan and the other groomsmen were waiting at the end of the aisle. He caught your gaze, and his features were immediately overtaken by a big smile. You smiled and lifted your hand in a small wave back. “Loving Sungchan and being loved by him, it’s the kind of thing that changes you.”

“I didn’t take him on that date because I hate you or think that you’re not good together.”

“I didn’t think you did.” You tilted your head curiously. “So why did you?”

“Because Sungchan’s fatal flaw when it comes to you is that he wants you to be happy, no matter the detriment to him or to you.” He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “From what he’s told me, I don’t think you guys should’ve even broken up in the first place. He didn’t put up a fight at all, did he?”

“No, he was really understanding.”

“Idiots. The both of you. Him, for not trying to get you to talk about it first, and you for thinking he would just be the same old Sungchan like nothing happened.” He scoffed. “I mean, do you even know him?”

You took his seemingly harsh words in stride, knowing that your usually bright and cheery friend didn’t get this upset unless he really cared. “You took him on that date, and tried to take his phone so he couldn’t pick up my phone to… force him into fighting for our relationship?”

“Giving me a bit too much credit there, maybe,” Shotaro let out a chuckle. “It’s like you said. He was stuck, waiting around for you. I wanted him to do something. Either move on, or go get you back.”

Your eyes strayed to Sungchan again, fixing his tie and adjusting the finer points of his suit. Another groomsman said something to him, to which he laughed, and you felt your heart lurch.

The ceremony was incredible. You felt yourself tearing up a little with how happy you were for your friends. They shared their first kiss, and giddily half-ran back down the aisle. The rest of the wedding party filed out after them, and you caught Sungchan’s eye again then, smiling and waving. He waved back, absolutely beaming.

At the reception, there were no assigned seats save for the wedding party’s table, so you and Shotaro ended up at a table of people you learned to be college friends of the couple. You sat through the various toasts, including Sungchan’s, and were finally left to eat and chat in peace.

“Y/N!” A hand gently rested on your shoulder, and you wiped at your mouth before turning around. It was Sungchan’s mother, and you eagerly greeted her as she bent down to hug you. “Oh, I thought that was you.”

“Hi, yes. How are you?” You accepted the hug from her husband as well.

“We’re well.” She still looked absolutely stupefied, like she couldn’t believe that you were real. “Both boys said you were coming, but still…”

“Yusung and Hyesoo invited me,” you smiled awkwardly. “Again…”

“I’m glad to see you, sweetheart,” she sighed wistfully, patting your cheek, then turned to your friend. “And you too, Taro.”

“I thought I was invisible for a second!” He huffed in feigned exasperation, standing up to give both parents hugs, making everyone laugh.

“Our third son could wait for a moment,” Mr. Jung teased back.

“Forgotten middle child as always,” he tsked and shook his head.

As they moved to chat with the other guests at your table, Shotaro nudged your arm and nodded towards the wedding party table, which was relatively vacant as many were off mingling. “Do you want to go give our congrats to the bride and groom?”

“Sure, yeah.” You nodded, accepting his hand up.

Approaching the table, you saw it disappointingly devoid of Sungchan, but still beamed at your friends as you arrived.

“Y/N! Shotaro!” Hyesoo squealed and got to her feet to wrap the both of you in tight hugs. “Hi!”

“Congrats!” You laughed and hugged her back, careful to avoid bumping the tiara/veil on her head. “How does it feel?”

“Awesome,” Yusung gushed, hugging you next once his wife had let you go. “How are you doing, Y/N?”

“I’m good, really,” you assured him. “Thank you.”

“My brother’s around here somewhere—” He got on his tiptoes to try to peer around the venue.

“Don’t worry about our problems. Today’s your wedding, seriously,” you waved him off with a laugh, trying to pull him back down to flat feet. “You don’t have to be big brother for one day.”

“Can’t, sorry. No off switch.”

You shook your head, despite your smile, “I know, I know.”

After a bit more chit chatting about their wedding—the venue, the food, Hyesoo’s dress, the decorations, a debacle with the florist—you and Shotaro excused yourself to let the next guests that were hanging around nearby have a chance to talk to the couple. It was then that Sungchan finally found the two of you, having shed his suit jacket at some point as he loosened his tie and fanned himself with his dress shirt.

“Hey, guys, are you having a good time?” He asked, clearly out of breath.

“Yeah, man, are you?” Shotaro laughed incredulously.

“You look like you’re about to have a stroke, Channie,” you pressed the back of your fingers to his pink cheek, furrowing your brow when you felt how warm he was. Grabbing his arm, you pulled him over to the drinks table. “When was the last time you drank water?”

“This morning? Maybe?” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Definitely at the rehearsal dinner. Last night.”

You grabbed a cup and filled it up from the ice-cold jug clearly label ‘water’ in a fancy cursive font. Pushing it into his hand, you said sternly, “Drink some. Now.”

He gulped down the first cup obediently, and you immediately refilled it before handing it back to him. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Was the whole building about to collapse or something?” Shotaro asked. “You looked freaked.”

“No, just felt like it,” he chuckled, taking another long swig of water. “But everything’s fine now.”

“Good, I’m glad.” You squeezed his arm.

“I’m uh—I’m going to go use the bathroom,” your friend announced loudly. “Then maybe talk to some people. For a long time.”

“Oh, really subtle, Taro,” Sungchan snorted.

“As a freight train,” you agreed, watching him click his tongue, snap his fingers at the both of you, and saunter off.

“Thank you for coming,” Sungchan said. “Really, you—It’s good to see you again.”

“I’m glad I came,” you smiled up at him, fixing his rumpled collar for him. “You looked good up there, Channie.”

“The wonders that a tailored suit will do.”

“I can’t believe that you have two suits now.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s called character development?”

You laughed, maybe harder than his joke warranted, but you couldn’t help the bubbly feeling in your chest from being back around Sungchan again. You hadn’t felt this happy since the last time you were with him.

He had a fond smile on his face as he watched you. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.” You messed with your own outfit bashfully.

“If I can say that…?”

“Yes, Sungchan, you can compliment me,” you laughed, pushing on his shoulder.

He let himself be jostled a little bit as he grinned at you. “Just making sure.”

Still with a tug at the corner of your mouth, you caught his eye, and slipped your hand into his.

“It’s your brother’s wedding, and you seem stressed enough,” you breathed out hesitantly. “We obviously don’t have to talk today. But I’m ready.”

For a stomach-dropping second, he froze. Then his hand was tightening around yours and he was pulling you away from the drinks table, through the crowd, out the back door of the room, and down the halls at a dizzying pace that you could barely keep up with. You didn’t know where you were until the cool nighttime air hit your skin. Stars dotted the inky sky, and it took you a few moments after your eyes had adjusted to the darkness to realize that you were back at the courtyard where the outdoor ceremony had taken place, nothing but the arch of flowers left.

Each of you just looked at the other for a few silent moments. You gulped, the sound comically loud in your ears. You got the two of you into this mess, it was only right that you should go first.

“I-I’m so sorry, Channie,” you began, clasping his hand desperately. “I did let my family get to me, and instead of talking to you, I ran away from you. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you. And…” He grabbed your other hand too. “I’m sorry I just let things pass me by. Your family treating you like that, our relationship. Me not doing anything because I didn’t want to fight… that wasn’t fair to either of us.”

“I forgive you, too,” you sniffled, feeling the tears rising up faster than you could stop them.

“So, you’re really ready to try for more than just wedding and funerals?”

“Absolutely,” you smiled and wiped at your eyes. “We can’t really attend anything hosted by my family anymore, so we need some new date ideas anyway.”

“Wait what?”

“After the last funeral, you and I are sort of banned from all future Y/L/N family events until we apologize. Per my mother,” you admitted.

Sungchan’s eyes widened. “Y/N, oh shit, I’m so—”

“Don’t. They don’t deserve an apology from either of us,” you reassured him, cupping his cheek. “I missed you so bad, Sungchan.”

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight to him as he buried his face in your neck. “God, I missed you too, baby.”

You hugged him back, feeling the painful knots that had been ensnared around your chest for months now unravel.

“Do-Do you think we should go back in?” You murmured.

“Probably…” He sighed, not loosening his grip on you. “We probably missed their first dance.”

A crack of thunder made you jump out of your skin, and you felt Sungchan startle in your arms as well. You looked up at the sky, putting a hand over your heart as you could feel your heartbeat racing, “Fuck, that scared the hell out of me.”

The words were barely out of your mouth when a drop of water hit your arm. Then another. Then it was absolutely pouring, and both you and Sungchan were soaked in seconds, before you could even head for shelter. You looked at each other is disbelief.

“Well… shit,” you sputtered out a chuckle, looking down at your drenched clothes.

“I think we’d be a slipping hazard on the dance floor at this point,” Sungchan laughed, pushing his wet hair from his face as he looked up into the rain. “Kind of feels nice, though.”

“Hm.”

You threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He managed to catch you, letting out a chuckle as he stumbled back a step. The sounds of the rain hitting the stones underfoot filled your ears as he enveloped you in his warm arms. Sungchan began to sway the two of you to a simple beat, humming under his breath as he rested his cheek on your hair.

“Channie?”

“Baby?”

You looked up at him, cupping his cheek. Your eyes followed a drop of water as it ran down his nose and dripped off. Sungchan covered your palm with his before leaning down and pressing your lips together. You grabbed his tie to pull him even closer as his other hand settled on your lower back, fingertips pressing you into him.

“Shh,” Sungchan tried to quiet your laughs, before immediately giggling himself.

The rain had eventually let up, but the two of you were unfortunately still quite damp by the time you finally reentered the venue. You had wrung out what water you could to avoid dripping all over the place, but it was quite obvious where you two had been.

“You shush!” You hissed back, pinching his arm that you were holding.

“I just need to get my phone and my keys and my jacket, and your purse, and we can go,” he reiterated the plan. “I might have a couple towels in my car, so you don’t have to sit on a wet seat.”

The upbeat music had gotten louder the nearer you were to the main room, and the two of you stopped at the entrance to look around. A few other guests had already left, you could tell, and most were congregated on the dance floor, engrossed among themselves.

“Wait here,” Sungchan whispered, squeezing your hand before taking off.

You hung back at the entrance, trying to make yourself as invisible as possible and avoiding anybody’s gaze.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” Hyesoo had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, unaccompanied by her husband or anybody else. She gasped as she took in your drenched appearance. “What happened?”

“Nothing, just stepped outside for a second and got stuck in the rain,” you tried to assuage her concerns. “I’m going to head out though, don’t want to drip all over the place, you know?”

“Oh, you poor thing.” She tried to usher you down the hall. “Here, we have stuff at the bridal suite. Where was Sungchan? Or Shotaro? Why did they leave you alone?”

You tried to politely decline and stay put. “It’s fine, Hyesoo, really. Thank you, but it’s late. I was going to head out soon anyway.”

A familiar laugh came from behind you, and both you and Hyesoo turned to look. It was Shotaro, toting the similarly damp Sungchan with him. Sungchan had his suit jacket, phone and keys in one hand, and in the other, which Shotaro had the wrist of, was your purse. Shotaro must have been back at your table and caught him when he went to retrieve it for you.

“Knew it,” Shotaro was still laughing. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

Hyesoo looked between you and Sungchan, her expression changing from that of worry and pity to a knowing smile. She didn’t outright laugh like your other friend, simply letting go of your elbow and stepping back next to Shotaro. “Gotcha. Thank you for coming, Y/N, Sungchan.”

“Congrats again,” you squeezed your friend’s hand. “Give Yusung my best too.”

“I will be telling Yusung. For sure,” she giggled.

“Bye, Hyesoo,” Sungchan shook his head, but nevertheless pecked his sister-in-law on the cheek. “Tell Yusung we said bye.”

“See you, Taro!” You waved to him over your shoulder as Sungchan had already started escorting you out.

“Buh-bye!” Shotaro waved back zealously.

Sungchan fetched the promised two towels from his backseat, a little rumpled, and immediately tried to use both of them to dry you off. You took one from him to run over his hair and press against the wettest part of his clothes. He put his dry suit jacket on your shoulders and opened the passenger door for you, laying the towel down on the seat. You pulled him in for one more sweet kiss before getting in.

Sungchan got in with his own towel wrapped around his waist, then started the car. He immediately cranked up the heat, which you were grateful for, rubbing at the goosebumps on your skin.

“Hey,” he called for you softly.

You immediately looked over at him, finding him already gazing at you with the most tender smile on his face as he reached for your hand to hold it over the center console.

“I missed you.”

You kissed the back of his hand. “Thank you, Channie. For not giving up on me.”

“Thank you for not giving up on me either.” He kissed your forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

⤷ masterlist

[harumasa-wifey]

➹Happy New Year»———>

✖Asaba Harumasa x Fem!Reader

Warnings: slight spoilers of chap 5(nothing major) Not proofread

Category: fluff

Note:i was inspired by the new official art and wrote this I was supposed to post it last night but I fell asleep while writing,Sorry for the wait.i cannot picture the accurate spot of this pic but I saw one in game I'll post a pic of it later for reference!

“Meet me behind the cafe in lumina square”

This was the last text you had received from him as you left Random play after meeting with the siblings to return the movie you had rented and wishing them a happy New year in advance.

It was New year's eve and thankfully to the deputy chief you all were out and about today. No fighting hollows , No overload paperwork and some extra which asaba adds to you sneakily because he is too lazy to do them.You love him a lot but you wish sometimes he would Stop adding his paperwork on your desk. It can be a great hassle to finish them in time.

Lumina square always makes every New Year a grand one and a beautiful one to look forward to. You made your way to the metro station hurriedly taking the last train of the hour to the lumina square after talking with Nicole and the others in the cunning hares. The metro was full of people like the elderly, the people with their family, the young highschool students and the couples.

The thought of how this year went passes through your mind. The whole incident with the vision cooperation and the chase in the hollow was stressful. Although it hasn't been completely disposed of, you all can rest easy for the holidays. It was thanks to all of the background support everyone made it safely in the end.

Your thoughts came to an end as the mic on the train announced its stop , you got off the train heading out the metro station into the bustling city of New Eridu. There were lights everywhere and it was more crowded than usual, but there was still one place left to visit before you went to meet him.

Meeting the person you love on new year's eve without a gift doesn't sound right to you so here you are.Standing outside the shop while having second thoughts on what to get him. You had made up your mind to feed him some delicious sweets that are being sold around this time of year even though he likes the bitterness now and is not bothered by it.Having something sweet every once a while would definitely not harm him.

As you look around and yellowish star keychain catches your eye with a little Clover inside. There was something that attracted you to it, so without thinking further you had made the purchase and had it warped in a box.

And your next stop was The cafe.

You had made your way over to the cafe with a little pubsec bangboo to help you cross the road. You re-read his message and made your way to the back of the cafe.

There he was standing while leaning against the palisade while holding a small wrapped box in his hand, his attention over to you as he heard your footsteps coming closer.

“Well look who finally decided to grace me with their presence.Took you long enough”

He spoke with a gentle smile on his face as you rushed over to him.

“I am sorry! I was at the Sixth street when I got your message”

He chuckled at her worries about being late.

“Calm down baby, I was just teasing. No need to rush i just got in myself”

You could hear the crowd hushed as the first firework arched into the velvety night sky as he extended his hand holding the gift box his yellow eyes shining in the lights whispering in a soft tone.

“Happy new year”

Your instinct told you to go and hug him so that's what you did, wrapping your arms around his neck particularly throwing yourself over him not to worry he will always there to catch you.

“Happy new year asaba,may we be together in the next one too”

“Don't worry I'll live long” He said locking his lips with yours into a kiss.

[hoshigray]

HOSHII MY LOVE this is gonna be my first ever request to you 😕 i usually refrain bc i get shy but im so touch deprived rn i NEED YOU TO (only if u want to no pressure pookie) MAKE A LIL MAKEOUT DRABBLE with literally any character plsplspls its carnal atp i love u

-🍓

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: the way i wanted to make this a multi-post, but i've been thinkng this exact scenario w/ toji for the past week, it needs to get out of my head!! i appreciate you entrusting you're first req w/ me awwww ;w;

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x afab/fem! reader - suggestive content; minors DNI - kissing/making out - dry humping/grinding - thigh riding - fluff yet...suggestive - grinding - thigh riding - fingering (f! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, princess, sweetie) - Toji and you being touch starved - implied reader is toji's partner who looks after Tsumiki and Megumi (yes, I'm feeling soft, shut up) - mention of spit.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

After swaddling Megumi to sleep, you slowly put him in his cradle. The year-old baby snores silently as he leaves your arms’ warmth and lies in the comforting chill of the sheets. You then move silently to tuck in Tsumiki, the toddler sleeping in her tiny bed. You kiss her forehead gently, making her smile unconsciously. After saying a hushed goodnight, you close the door.

The plan was to stay until the kids fell asleep, stopping by your boyfriend's place for a night since it's been a little while since you last saw each other. Work’s been keeping you away for a minute, and stopping by at his apartment was needed to happen before you crash out from stress. And seeing the little ones’ faces was the cherry on top, their wholesome beaming faces instantly fueling your social battery. 

After silently walking out of the hall, you enter the living room, where your boyfriend stands by the chair with your bag. You smile pleasantly, teetering your way to him. And he, Toji, smirks at you, straightening a bit when you’re close enough. “Gotta go,” you say with a whisper. “Better catch some sleep before heading back to the office tomorrow. Megumi should be out till morning, so you should sleep easy tonight.”

“Thank Christ,” he makes you giggle, hushed not to wake the children.

The silence pushes you to look at him, your heart skipping at his forest green orbs already latched onto your frame. You cough faintly before grabbing for your purse. “Need anything before I go?”

A hand grabs your wrist to pull, and Toji impersonates thinking to himself while his hands snake to your waist to draw you closer. You roll your eyes – knowing what game he’s playing – but the smile on your face doesn’t falter. He then says, “Mmm, only one thing comes to mind.”

“And what would that be?” You quirk a brow, but your expression changes once he brings his face inches closer.

“I’m still waiting’ fr’ my kiss.” His gruff tone is dialed down, but his words affect a warmth to coarse through your chest.

It’s hard to say no when Toji’s nose brushes yours, lips hovering over yours, and your eyelids closing on their own. How long has it been since you’ve been close to him like this? You can’t even remember, work corrupting you for so long that this moment feels a little surreal.

“Hmm?” He teases you with a kiss on your cheek, and you shiver at the contact. “A guy can’t get a goodnight kiss before seein’ his baby off?”

You bastard… Holding back is futile when he kisses the corner of your lips, your hands cup his face, and bring him to your lips properly. He groans, the both of you sighing as your hands wrap around his neck.

You break the kiss, knowing it isn’t sufficient for you both. Toji licks your bottom lip, and you whimper as he kisses you again, a soft noise resulting from the withdrawal. “Toji—Mmm,” scarred lips claim yours once more, this time with more hunger. “I have to go…”

Your words aren’t acknowledged, not when he chews on your bottom lip — a signal for more access. Fuck, your resolve dwindles with the insertion of his tongue, almost going weak in the knees. But before that, Toji smoothly picks you up, and the sudden shift has you yelp.

“Stay with me,” Holy shit, the way he was looking at you caused your stomach to do flips. So entranced that you don’t realize he is walking to the couch to place you down on your back, crawling above you. “I missed you. Just tonight, sweetie.”

Liar, you know he wants you here for more precisely because that’s what you wish. But, “I…I can’t, I have to go—Mmmph…!”He slammed his mouth to yours again, nibbling on your lip until his tongue was let back inside your mouth. You moan, his leg propped in between yours, bumping his knee to your groin, which has you screaming silently. “Ahhnn! Toji, not there!”

“Shhh, relax, angel,” he coos, using a hand to massage your skull affectionately. He moves his knee, and you’re practically grinding on his thigh with a chewed lip.

“I can’t stay,” you’re hushed by his lips again, and your hips move on their own. “I have to go…Ohhh.”

“You say that, but look who’s ridin’ my thigh.” His chortle is low, and your stomach does knots. Toji moves your legs so he can be nestled between them, and kissing your neck melts you under him. “C’mon, princess, ya know I can’t let you go like this.”

Your brows scrunch together at him sucking your skin, legs coming around his waist as you hump into him. Toji does the same, rocking his hips to you perilously, the groin of his sweats grinding onto your bottoms, covering your throbbing chasm. God, it felt too good to stop now, your hands roaming inside his white wifebeater to purchase. 

He kisses you again, spit covering your soft lips, and you whine as he teases and sucks on your tongue; your breath hitches while his free hand slithers down inside your bottoms, and a shaky shriek is prompted by his fingers pushing into your panties.

“That’s right,” he coaxes you between pecks, loving the way your hands scratch on him. “Gonna treat ya right t’night, angel—”

However, the fun stops once you two hear the sound of a door crying, sniffling, and cries getting louder as they approach closer. It was Tsumiki, the poor girl shedding tears through her drowsy state. 

“Miki?” You call to the toddler; Toji quietly moves off you so the little brunette can come running into your arms. “Can’t sleep, sweetie?” She nods and burrows her face into your chest. You kiss her temple, “Must’ve been a nightmare.”

Her father hums and ruffles his daughter’s hair, chuckling when she swats his hand away. Toji then leans to your ear, “I’ll get the bed ready.” A mild glare meets a naughty grin before he gets up to his bedroom, leaving you on the couch to soothe the crying child back to sleep.

So much for sleeping easy tonight…

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ✩ dividers by @/benkeibear.

[briefinquiries]

Luke Alvez x Reader: Promise You'll Call

Prompt: hi first i just want to say i love you writing so much. Do you think you could write something where luke finds out the reader’s significant other is harming them (mentally or physically)? I understand this is a rough topic but i was just going through a hard time with flashbacks. I understand if you can’t, thank you!

Word count: 7k (idk how this got to be so long)

Warnings: DV mention (in detail), blood tw

A/N: ayyyyooo, it's been forever since i've posted, but enjoy! i wanted to post, so i haven't proof read yet, so please excuse any grammatical mistakes, I'll go back and fix tomorrow :)

Luke honestly didn’t mean to eavesdrop. It just so happened that he was still in his truck, finishing up the burnt bagel he’d made in a rush this morning when you pulled into the parking garage. At first, Luke didn’t recognize that it was you in the black BMW that stopped in the middle of the garage, right behind his own truck. But when he peeked through his rearview mirror, he saw you sitting in the passenger seat, tucking a curtain of hair behind your ear. 

Luke’s stomach flipped, the same way it did every time he saw you. 

Except this time, he actually felt guilty for it, because he was pretty sure the guy driving the car was your boyfriend. Luke was new to the team in the last year, and while he’d done a pretty good job getting to know everyone at the BAU, he still hadn’t met partners or family yet. You were one of the few agents who never talked about your personal life at work. 

But even though Luke couldn’t see the man driving the car, as soon as you cracked open the passenger side door, he certainly heard him. 

Was it even considered eavesdropping if the entire parking garage could hear? 

“I’m not done talking!” The man’s voice echoed across the entire garage, causing Luke to straighten in his seat.  

“Will you lower your voice?” You snapped back in a hushed tone, before looking around the space, clearly embarrassed. 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!”

“The whole city is going to hear you, Justin, please.”

“I don’t care if they do– get back in the fucking car!”

Something in Luke’s chest began boiling at the sound of his tone. Did he always speak to you that way? He fought back the urge to peel himself out of his truck. You were his coworker– not his girlfriend. It wasn’t his place to knock this guy down a few pegs, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

“I have nothing else to say to you right now–”

“Good, don’t talk. Fucking listen for once in your life!”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said, voice eerily calm. It was like you were almost used to this kind of fighting– like you knew the exact steps to take to attempt de-escalating him. “I have to get to work. We’ll talk about this later.”

“If you shut that fucking door, you’re walking home. I swear to–” but the man’s voice was abruptly cut off by you shutting the door. 

Luke secretly felt proud as he watched you turn and walk away from the BMW without looking back. 

Suddenly, music blared through the speakers of the car before Luke heard tires squealing while the car drove away. Luke remained in place while he heard your footsteps fade into the distance, not wanting to embarrass you further or let you know he’d been heard the entire conversation that just played out. 

But while he gave you a moment to catch the elevator without him, Luke didn’t like the feeling that settled in his stomach. If your boyfriend acted like that in the middle of the bureaus parking garage, what the hell was he like behind closed doors?

…

You fought back tears for the entire elevator ride. Thank God no one got into the lift with you, so you at least had a moment of peace before having to pull everything together. 

Justin woke up mad– again. That had been a regular occurrence for the last year. And for the last month, he’d been convinced you were cheating on him. With zero evidence aside from a “hunch” he was apparently going on, there was no amount of convincing or location sharing or reminding him that your job came with sporadic hours that would change his mind. And things were getting worse. Each day it felt like he was angrier– more out of control. And each day you told yourself that you could handle it. You were literally trained on how to de-escalate murderers, for God’s sake. But this morning, when you woke up to not one, but four flat tires on the car you parked in the garage, you knew things were escalating again. 

As the elevator climbed, your phone suddenly pinged in your pocket. You pulled it out to read the text back from your mother. You’d reached out to her earlier, letting her know what you’d suspected– that Justin had slashed your tires so that you couldn’t take your own car to work. 

Mom: He wouldn’t do that. I know you are going through a rough patch, but Justin’s a good man. Did you reach out to that couple’s therapist I told you about?

You let out a sigh. 

Typical. 

Justin had worked at the local hospital with your father before he retired. As a world-wide renowned cardiovascular surgeon with a strong handshake and charismatic demeanor, he could do no wrong in your parent’s eyes. 

In the few instances you actually had reached out to them for support in the last year, the burden always fell back on you. What had you done to piss him off? What were you doing to mitigate the situation? You should have learned by now not to reach out to either one of them. You wouldn’t get the response you wanted. 

The elevator slowly climbed and you knew you had to pull it together. Deep breath in, deep breath out. You reached the fifth floor and stepped out of the elevator, trying to forget about everything that had just happened. 

Within an hour, a new case rolled in. You sat around the round table and listened to Emily give the rundown while Garcia clicked through slides of gruesome crime scenes she blatantly refused to even glimpse at . You tried to pay attention– to compartmentalize your home life like you had always been so good at doing. But as soon as you heard that the case was in Idaho– across the country, worry began creeping back inside of you. One of the biggest problems that Justin had was your constant travel for work. Although he was allowed to put in consistent, 16-hour days at the hospital, he got upset every time you told him where your next case was.

Which, honestly, you understood. When you took the job with the BAU, you never expected to have much of a life outside of it. You were gone more than you were home, and you knew that sort of lifestyle wasn’t for everyone. Except when you met him, Justin had known what you did for work. You didn’t lie or keep it a secret. He said he was okay with the traveling and the long hours. Until he wasn’t. 

Suddenly, there was a gentle tap on your shoulder. Every thought racing through your mind blew away and you refocused on the present moment. 

“Everything okay?” It was Luke asking. 

You looked around to realize that everyone else was packing up their belongings to board the jet. Turning to face Luke, you nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Just daydreaming, I guess.”

“Daydreaming with those crime scenes in the background?” he asked, nodding towards the gruesome picture still up on the screen. “You’ll have to teach me how to do that.”

You let out a breath of laughter. Luke hadn’t been on the team for long, but you realized within a few weeks of knowing him that he always knew how to make people laugh– no matter what was going on in the world around you. That was one of the many reasons he fit in so effortlessly with the team. 

“We can do a mindfulness class sometime,” you joked. 

He smiled, dimples popping from his dark, smooth skin. “I’d attend consistently.” 

Something fluttered in your stomach.

You just chalked it up to stress and nerves. 

…

Luke was supposed to be reviewing the case on the flight. Instead, he couldn’t stop watching you. Out of all the open seats, you chose one right across from him. You had the file open on your lap while your eyes scanned the page. Luke could tell you weren’t reading either, though, because the jet had already been airborne for almost half an hour and you hadn’t flipped the page. 

Meanwhile, Reid, who was to Luke’s right, had already read the entire file, front to back, probably three times by now. 

“Can you give me the Sparknotes version?” Luke leaned over and asked him.  

“What’s Sparknotes?” Reid asked, no hint of humor in his voice. 

Luke’s jaw fell open. “Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?”

“I don’t really think that intelligence can be measured or quantified in the way humans have tried to in the past. Technically I have an eidetic memory, which allows me to recall information with accurate precision. Meaning I’d actually have to see the information once to be able to recall it. I’ve never seen a Sparknote… or whatever you called it.”

A smirk spread across your lips, your eyes darting up to meet Luke’s. 

Luke shook his head in disbelief, offering you a small smile before turning back to Spencer. He’d been with the team nearly a year now and he still hadn’t gotten used to Reid’s demeanor. He wondered if he ever would. 

“You never had to Google the summary of a book when you were younger?”

Reid gave Luke a perplexed look. “Why would I do that if I have the book in front of me?”

“Because it’s faster.”

“I can read–”

“20 thousand words a minute,” Rossi interrupted as he walked by with an empty cup of coffee. “Yeah, we know, kid.”

He placed a free hand on Luke’s shoulder, patting it gently. “I have no idea what prompted this conversation, but trust me when I say it’s not worth it.”

Luke heard you stifle a laugh as Rossi walked past. 

…

You’d been on edge the entire plane ride. Justin never responded to your message, letting him know you’d be away for at least the next couple of days on a case. Maybe he was in the OR today, or maybe the hospital’s cell service was just spotty. 

Or maybe he really was just that mad at you. 

You knew the way he treated you was wrong. You recognized the red flags that had been staring you right in the face. But slashing your tires? Maybe your mom was right– maybe there was another explanation. Because no matter how much he yelled, or got in your face, or tried to intimidate you, you really didn’t think there was any way he could do that. 

You hated being this distracted while you worked. Emily was having to repeat instructions for you, JJ was throwing you worried glances, Spencer had asked three times now if you were okay… It was like you were the one being profiled in Idaho. 

Of course that wasn’t really the case, though. You were in Sun Valley because of a string of murdered women, each left dumped and discarded in ditches off the parkway. Each with ligature markings around their necks. Each with evidence of sexual assault. And each deserving of your undivided attention. 

You tried your best to give it to them. But in reality, when the case finally wrapped up six days after you’d arrived, you knew that everyone had picked up your slack. 

And while you were grateful to be part of a team that could pick up the slack of others, you hated that you had to utilize it. 

‘Unbelievable.’

That had been the only message you received from Justin the entire week you were away. You sent a practical novel back– trying to apologize and explain your side. Then you tried calling at least twice a day. But each time you went straight to his voicemail. Normally, space wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Except the jet was about to land back at Quantico, and you were terrified of what was next. 

Not to mention you had no ride home. 

“Hey,” a soothing voice suddenly said, stirring you from your thoughts. 

When you glanced up, you saw Luke gesturing towards the open seat across from you. 

“You mind? Everyone else is asleep.”

For a moment, you looked around the jet and noticed that Luke was right. Practically everyone was sprawled out or curled up against a window, passed out. You couldn’t blame them. It had been a rough case. If circumstances were different and you weren’t currently overthinking everything in your life, you’d probably be passed out too. 

Eventually you turned back to Luke and nodded. “You couldn't sleep?” You asked him. 

He shook his head. “Nah. I never sleep on planes. I think it’s a control-thing. I can never calm myself down enough to actually sleep.”

You frowned. “Now that you say that, I’ve never actually seen you sleep on the jet.”

“And you probably never will.” 

You grinned back. “Does that mean I’ll never get to know if Luke Alvez snores?”

“I’m afraid that information is classified,” he smirked. 

“Such a tease.”

Luke let out a low chuckle before casually leaning forward in his seat. “I did want to see if everything was okay, though.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, probably sounding too defensive. 

He shrugged. “I mean you just didn’t seem yourself this week. Not in a bad way or anything– just off.”

Shit. You knew it had been noticeable. But even still, the small part of you that was hoping it wasn’t deflated at Luke’s words. You actually debated telling him everything, which was so out of the norm for you lately. Ever since you and Justin had been having problems, you’d turned into a shell of who you used to be– you never hung out with Penn, Emily, or JJ anymore. You never had time for getting your ass kicked at chess on the jet with Reid, because you were too busy worrying if Justin was mad at you for leaving. You never joined everyone at Rossi’s evening dinners because you felt guilty for spending nights that you were home away from the house and Justin would never go with you. 

Suddenly, the harsh reality slapped you right in the face: You didn’t like who you were becoming. You didn’t like who you were when you were with Justin. The thought made you want to curl up and hide from the world– from Luke. But there was something about the way he looked at you– so earnest and intentional, like he was hanging onto every word, like he actually wanted to be someone you could trust, that felt prevented you from doing so. 

“You’re chewing on your lip,” Luke pointed out. “That’s how I always know when you’re overthinking.”

You relaxed your jaw instantly. That’s how he always knew? How often was Luke paying attention to your moods and mannerisms? The thought made something flutter in your stomach, but not in the anxious way it had been fluttering recently. This was softer– less scary. 

“Stupid profilers,” you muttered under your breath, desperate to break through whatever tension was boiling between the two of you. 

It was enough to earn a chuckle from Luke. “We are pretty annoying, aren’t we?” He sat back in his chair, cracking his knuckles casually. “You know, my last two girlfriends have broken up with me because of this job. One was serious– the last one, not so much. But still. They said it was too demanding– that I couldn’t make them a priority. I don’t know if you remember the Orlando case last fall. The one with–”

“The fourteen year old boy. We were too late to save him, but we got his sister,” you finished for him. “I remember.” Not only did you remember, but that very same case had been burned into your brain for months. 

Luke nodded. “Yeah. Well, when we got back from that case, that’s when she broke up with me. She said she was trying to deal with me being gone all the time. But if I couldn’t even be present when I was home, she was done. God, I had nightmares about that case for weeks– still do sometimes.” 

You gazed at him sympathetically. Unfortunately, his story wasn’t that out of the norm. Aside from you, everyone on the team in a relationship was already married. Once you had a solid, established relationship, most times it was doable. But the reality was, it was hard to date someone and be part of the BAU. 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 

“Don’t be,” he waved you off. “They were right. I put my job first. And I’d like to think that the person I’m supposed to be with would understand how important this work is to me, even if each case takes a little piece from me.”

You thought about Justin– always criticizing, always making comments and remarks about how much you worked. You thought about the last few weeks and all the late nights you’d sat and done unnecessary paper at your desk just to avoid going home to him. 

“Or maybe you’d actually want to make the person you’re supposed to be with the priority,” you suggested softly without meeting Luke’s gaze.   

Luke had just been so vulnerable with you– telling you about his relationship problems like you were someone he could confide in. And the scary part was, you liked it. You liked being someone he came to with these types of things. You wished he’d do it more. 

Justin never confided in you– never let you confide in him, either. You stared intently down at your lap and wondered what it would feel like to have someone who would. 

“Justin and I– we’re having some issues.”

Finally, you dared to look up at Luke. His brown eyes looked black in the dimly lit jet, but they still glistened as he listened. “He’s just so mad at me,” you whispered, voice faltering. You’d barely said anything, but you could already feel all of the emotions you’d been masking and forcing down start to bubble towards the surface. “All the time. And I don’t know what to do about it. I don’t know if I want to do anything about it.”

Luke leaned forward again, his elbows resting on his knees while he wound his fingers together. “I heard him when he dropped you off in the garage the other day,” Luke said honestly. Instantly, you felt heat rise to your cheeks. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I swear, I was just waiting in my car because I was early and well–”

You took a shaky breath, embarrassed beyond belief. “Anyone in the vicinity would have heard him that day.”

Luke’s voice lowered. “Does he always talk to you like that?” 

Yes, you thought. 

“No. That was just a bad morning.”

Luke nodded, but pursed his lips like he didn’t quite believe you. “I know it isn’t my place, but you don’t deserve that. I mean, fuck, no one does. But especially you.”

You smiled softly, trying to believe that he was right– that you didn’t deserve Justin’s harsh comments or anger. And on some level, you knew you didn’t. But another part of you always wondered why you didn’t try harder– why you didn’t care if he ended things or not. 

“Thanks Luke.” 

He nodded, leaning back once again. You gazed out the jet window, seeing familiar city lights in the distance. You’d be landing soon. And then it was back to whatever grim reality faced you at home.   

 “You don’t have your car today, do you?” Luke asked suddenly, stirring you from your thoughts. 

You shook your head. “Uh no. When I went to leave for work, my tires were flat.”

“All of them?” he asked, sounding shocked. 

“All of them.” 

“What’d you do, park in a pile of glass?”

“No, I think they were slashed.”

Luke’s eyes widened, a wave of concern washing over his face. “You don’t think–”

“I have no proof,” you said, knowing instantly what Luke was implying before he even said it. “But yes.”

“Jesus–”

You took a slow, steadying breath, doing your best not to fall apart in front of Luke. 

“I think your place is on my way home,” Luke said after a moment. “I can give you a ride.”

You looked up, instantly ready to decline the generous offer. Luke was good– too good. And you didn’t want to ruin whatever type of friendship was blossoming between you by being too needy right from the start. 

“Don’t even try to say no,” he spoke first. “Please let me give you a ride.”

By habit, you chewed on your lower lip. 

“Don’t overthink it,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t have offered if it was going to be an inconvenience.”

You felt guilty– you really couldn’t help it, and you weren’t used to accepting help from others. But something about Luke’s tone was so earnest, you believed him. He wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t expect you to say yes. After a moment, you nodded slowly. “Okay,” your head hung, gaze falling to your lap. “Thank you.”

The two of you spent the final minutes of the jet ride sitting quietly, gazes fixated out the window as the pilot landed you safely back in Quantico. When the lights flickered on, your other team members stirred in their seats with exhausted sighs and groans. You grabbed your go bag and followed closely behind Luke as he stepped off the plane. 

“Need anything inside?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “No, I’m good.”

With that, he adjusted the bag on his shoulder and veered towards the parking garage with you just strides behind him. 

Luke made small talk on the ride home. It was like he knew how nervous you were to see Justin and was trying to lighten the mood. You mostly just smiled and nodded in response, and felt grateful when Luke didn’t pressure you or point this out. Only when you got close enough to offer him instructions to your house did you actually utter any words. 

Then, before you knew it, Luke was putting his truck in park on the street near your house. You swallowed thickly as soon as you saw Justin’s car in the driveway and a single light still on in the house. 

The harsh reality was that you had no idea what to expect when you walked through those doors. But here… now… sitting in this truck with Luke, you felt safe. It was hard to leave that. 

But of course you had to. Luke couldn’t wait here all night. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said softly, trying to conceal how shaky your voice sounded. 

“I don’t mean to overstep,” he said quickly. “But… I just– I mean, I don’t feel good about leaving you here.”

You shook your head quickly. Again, not wanting to feel like a burden. “I’m fine. It’ll be fine. He can be controlling and he gets angry– but he’d never hurt me or anything.”

Luke nodded, although the furrow in his brow told you he didn’t quite believe you. 

“You have my number. Promise me you’ll call if you need anything.”

You weren’t used to this kind of generosity. But before you could overthink things, you nodded earnestly, believing that you would actually call him if it came to that. If nothing else, Luke had proven how trustworthy he was in the last few hours alone. 

“Alright,” he nodded carefully as you slid out of the front seat of his truck, feet colliding with the pavement. 

“Thanks again,” you did your best to muster up a genuine smile. 

The corner of his lip tugged up slightly, but concern was still plastered over his face. “See you on Monday then.”

“Monday,” you agreed. 

With that, you closed the door– putting a literal wall between you and the only person who had made you feel safe in the last week. 

You turned towards your house, the knots in your stomach tightening with each passing moment. When you reached the front door, you turned one last time to see Luke leaned forward, eyes trained on you. Your chest softened when you realized he was waiting for you to get inside safely before driving off. Offering him one, final wave, you turned to unlock the front door. 

When you first stepped inside your house– everything looked normal. The light above the stove was on and the fridge hummed softly. You placed your duffel bag on the floor and stepped into the kitchen for some water. As you filled up a glass, you began to wonder if maybe you’d overreacted. Maybe Justin had been busy with work this week– just like you’d been. 

But your wishful thinking was short lived. 

Because the second you turned away from the faucet, you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sight of Justin– standing on the other side of the island counter. You hadn’t even heard him approach you. 

“Jesus, Justin–” you gasped, setting your glass of water down on the counter. “You scared me.”

Instead of replying, his eyes just narrowed. He looked angry– angrier than you’d ever seen him. An eerie chill crept down your spine, sending an eruption of goosebumps across your skin. 

“Where were you?” he asked, voice menacing and icy. 

“I told you– there was a case–”

His hands slammed down on the counter, causing you to take a step back as you jumped. 

“Don’t lie to me!” 

“I’m not lying–” you said quickly, trying to keep your own voice even. You knew how important it would be to remain calm. 

But despite your efforts, Justin swiped his hand across the counter, sending your cup of water colliding into the wall, where it shattered. 

You winced, unable to completely contain your shock. Because despite the yelling and the screaming, Justin had never done that before. Something inside of you told you that you had to leave… now– but you couldn’t react in time. Because before you could even turn your body to head towards the door, he was already turning the corner around the island, eliminating the only barrier between you and his violent outburst. 

“Where are you going, huh?” he challenged. “Gonna take off again?”

“I was at work, Justin– I told you that.”

He took another step closer to you, sending you a step backwards. Like a choreographed dance, you alternated steps until you heard the crunch of glass beneath your shoes. You’d reached the wall. You were cornered. 

Panic flooded through you. And suddenly, logic went out the window. You couldn’t think rationally– you couldn’t problem solve. Everything just went blank. 

“Who brought you home tonight, hm?” 

He was close enough that you could smell the alcohol melting off his breath. You lowered your head, trying to appear as submissive as you could– because what the hell else were you supposed to do?

“I saw the truck– the white one? Who the fuck was that?”

“Just someone from work,” you answered quickly. 

“Just someone from work, huh?” He took another step forward. There was practically no space between the two of you now. “Look at me when you talk.” 

You were trembling so hard, you couldn’t follow his commands as fast as he wanted. 

“I said–” he snapped harshly. Instantly, you felt fingers wrapping around your throat, forcing your head up. Justin’s hand squeezed, cutting air off. “Look at me when you talk.” 

His grip tightened. “Go ahead– say it. Tell me where you were.”

You opened your mouth, but you couldn’t even get air in your lungs, let alone formulate words. 

Justin’s eyebrow raised. For a moment, he actually looked like he was enjoying this. 

“No?” he asked. “Nothing? Are you finally done lying to me?”

You tried to inhale– but when nothing came, more panic settled in your stomach. You squirmed, needing air fast. Your hands raised to grab his forearm, desperate for him to let go. You tried to breathe again– but when air still didn’t come, you dug your nails into his skin without thinking– scratching him, hoping that would help. Except, you were so panicked, you had no concept of how hard you actually scratched him. Your nails broke through the skin– causing him to release your throat.  

“You bitch,” he hissed. Before you could even take a breath, you felt something collide with the side of your face, sending your head whipping to the side. 

Your head hung for a moment while your brain tried to comprehend what was happening. 

Justin had hit you– and there was currently something warm dripping down the side of your head. As you were hunched over, you felt something then collide with your stomach– hard. His knee maybe? You couldn’t tell–

“You let some man drive you home to my house!” he yelled, hand closing around your throat again. This time, he launched you backwards, whipping your head into the wall forcefully. “And then you come in and you fucking lie about it?” 

You grasped at his wrist– not scratching, but trying to get him to loosen his grip. You couldn’t breathe– no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t breathe. 

“Please,” you tried to say, but all that came out was a gasp. 

You attempted to look at him– hoping he could see how sincere you were being. But when you gazed up, your stomach just dropped. His eyes were menacing– black, empty. He looked like he could kill you right here and now and not care in the slightest. 

Justin’s grip tightened, you could feel each individual finger as it dug deeper into your skin, cutting off your airway– crushing your windpipe. 

You were going to die– You were going to die and there was nothing you could do to stop it. 

You dug your nails into his skin again, you flailed– you slapped with what energy you had left. But nothing was working. Your vision was blurring– dark edges starting to create a tunnel around the world. He was too strong– and you were going to die. 

Until suddenly, with no warning, Justin’s grip loosened. 

Instantly, you slid to the floor– coughing and choking as you gasped for air. 

You waited for whatever would come next– a kick to the ribs, something clattering over your head. But instead, you heard his footsteps retreating. 

You willed yourself to look up– through foggy vision clouded by tears, you saw Justin backing out of the kitchen, his eyes wide. 

“I-I–” he stammered. “I didn’t–” For a moment he paused, like he was frozen in place, before shaking his head. 

You were too focused on trying to breathe regularly again to make sense of the look of remorse seemingly on his face before he darted out of the room. 

Although he was out of your sight, you knew Justin couldn’t be far. And you knew that, despite the fact that you were sputtering and could barely breathe, you had to get out of that house. With what little strength you had left, you pushed yourself off the floor. Your back throbbed from being thrown against the wall, while a wave of dizziness overcame you. You all but staggered to where you’d dropped your bag earlier, doing a quick scan of the room before grabbing the strap and hauling it over your shoulder. 

You hurried to the front door, hand on the knob, when you paused. 

Where the hell were you supposed to go?

And then Luke’s words from earlier flashed through your mind. 

Promise me you’ll call if you need anything. 

You couldn’t– you thought. You’d already asked him for so much. But he did make you promise. And honestly, you couldn’t think of anyone in the world aside from him that you’d talk to about what had just happened. 

Suddenly, you heard movement from upstairs. 

You didn’t have time to toggle back and forth. You had to make a decision. 

Before you could second guess anything, you grabbed your phone from your pocket, pulled up Luke’s contact info, and hurried out the door. 

…

The second your name flashed across his screen, Luke knew he shouldn’t have left. Granted, he was only four minutes down the road– but he wished he had listened to his gut and just stayed. 

He slid his thumb across the screen. “Hello?”

He was met by an eerie silence.

“Hello?” he repeated. 

“Luke–” Your voice sounds so small– so choked up. “I’m sorry– I–” 

He waited a moment, hanging on to each word you spoke like it was a prayer. 

“Could you– maybe… could you come back? I’m so sorry– I–”

Luke was already turning his truck around before you could finish your choppy sentence. 

“I’m on my way,” he assured you. “Stay right there, okay?”

He was pretty sure he heard you agree before the line went dead. But regardless, Luke was back at your house in an instant. The second he put his truck in park, he was already undoing his seatbelt and launching himself out of the car. 

He had no idea what he was walking into– all he knew was that he had to get you out of there. What the hell could this asshole have said to you to have you so shaken up over the phone? 

He imagined knocking on the door– finding you tear streaked and trembling. It made his insides roar with anger before even seeing you. 

Except, when Luke turned the corner of his truck. He didn’t have to reach the front door to see you. He didn’t even have to walk across your lawn. Instead, you were hunched over on the curb, face buried in your hands while your whole body shook. 

Luke’s shoulders fell– your name tumbling from his lips as he approached you.

He had prepared for trembling– he had prepared for crying. But what he wasn’t prepared for, was seeing your face, bloodied and bruised when you looked up at him. 

He stopped dead in his tracks, everything inside of him turning to ice at the sight. 

“Where is he?” Luke managed to choke out. His voice sounded muffled and distant in his own ears. 

You let out a shaky breath before attempting to smile– like you were trying to somehow convince him that you were okay. The cut on your lip stretched as you did, making you wince. “Inside,” you whispered. 

He nodded once. As much as he didn’t want to leave you out here alone, Luke couldn’t help himself. 

“I’ll kill him,” he said through gritted teeth. And just like that, he was off– taking long strides towards the front door. He had no idea what your house looked like– no idea where he’d find that asshole lurking. All Luke knew was that he was going to pay for what he did to you. 

He had tunnel vision– the only thing in front of him was a blind, rageful desire to hurt that piece of shit as much as he had hurt you. He was narrowing in on the front door– just a few steps away… until he heard something break through the fog. 

It was you– your voice so soft and broken, calling out to him desperately. He turned around, blinders widening to see you standing on the lawn, chest heaving and tears falling down your cheeks quickly. 

“Please Luke–” you begged. “Please don’t. I want to leave. Please, can we leave?”

He paused, but only for a second before all of his anger melted away in an instant.  

He nodded, knowing right there– in that moment, that he would do absolutely anything for you at the drop of a hat. In a few quick steps, he was back at your side, hand hovering near your lower back just in case you needed extra support. 

“We can go,” he said gently, purposely keeping his voice as calm as he could. “Let’s get you in the truck.” 

After only a couple of steps, Luke noticed that you were limping. He felt a wave of tears burning behind his eyes. He was frustrated– angry. With your boyfriend, but mostly with himself. He knew he shouldn’t have left. He knew it in his gut. He should have been there– maybe if he’d stayed, he would’ve heard the yelling– he could’ve stepped in before things got this bad. 

“Can you get up, okay?” he asked as he opened the passenger door for you.

You nodded, reaching up for the handle bar. He watched as you winced– just the extension of your torso causing your breathing to increase. 

“You’re alright,” he said. “Let me help.” 

He made sure to wait for you to nod before he placed his hand against your lower back. Ever so gently, he supported your weight so that you could hoist yourself up into the front seat. 

“There you go,” he said, once you were safely tucked inside. He closed the door and turned to head to the driver’s side. Just as he did, he caught a flash of movement from the direction of your house. When he looked, he saw Justin standing on the front porch. Even from the road, Luke could see the tears glistening in his eyes. 

He felt the familiar anger from earlier resurfacing inside of him. It tightened in his chest– burned in his stomach. He envisioned himself crossing the lawn– grabbing Justin by the shirt collar– launching his fist right into his jaw. 

Luke inhaled deeply before looking back towards you. You were staring at him, crying again, your face riddled with fear. Because you knew exactly what he was imagining, and it made you afraid. 

Luke’s insides softened. 

No. 

He would not just be another man who scared you tonight. Luke wanted to be someone you felt safe with. 

Without looking back, he hurried along the front of his hood and climbed into his side of the truck. He put the truck in drive and calmly accelerated down the road– away from everything that had ever hurt you. 

…

It was only when you were in the safe confinement of Luke’s truck that you realized how bad you were shaking.  

The further you got from the house, the more the events from that evening sank into your brain. You’d seen this before with victims– once their adrenaline calmed down and they actually realized they were safe, fight or flight wasn’t protecting them anymore.

There was so much you wanted to say to Luke. But you could barely muster up the strength to breathe, let alone explain yourself. 

But you knew that you had to say something. You inhaled shakily and picked at the loose hangnail on your thumb. “Luke, I’m so sorry,” you said, breaking through the thick silence. 

He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from how hard he was holding on. He hadn’t said a word since you’d been on the road and you found yourself wondering what was going through his mind. Was he angry? Annoyed? Frustrated?   

Luke grimaced. “Please don’t apologize,” he said softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You bit your lip to keep any tears from spilling out– you’d cried enough in front of Luke for one day. “I just meant that I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

“You didn’t drag me into anything.”

Something in his tone just seemed so off– so curt. You desperately needed to make this right. 

“Is there a hotel or something on the way to your place? You don’t have to go out of your way– you can just drop me off, I don’t want to inconvenience you–”

Luke hit the breaks, his truck coming to a stop as he pulled over on the side of the road. After shifting the gear, he turned in his seat to look at you. 

“I’m not inconvenienced by you. And I’m not dropping you off at a hotel. You’re coming to my place, and I’m going to clean up your cuts, and then I’m going to make you dinner.”

“Luke–” you started to protest but he shook his head. 

“Please,” he said, voice cracking. “Please, let me do this– Otherwise… otherwise I won’t be able to forgive myself.”

Your brows furrowed. “Forgive yourself? What are you talking about?”

Luke shook his head, his dark mop of curls unruly after the long day. Slowly, he lifted his head and gazed out of the windshield, like he was deep in thought. 

“I knew something was wrong– I mean, I heard the way he spoke to you in the garage. After you told me he slashed your tires… I just knew. I knew something bad would happen when I dropped you off, but I tried to convince myself I was just being dramatic– or paranoid. But I knew– and I didn’t listen. I left you, and you got hurt. So please, let me make you dinner and give you a safe place to be tonight. It’s the least I can do.”

Your mouth hung open– whatever you thought was going on in Luke’s mind, it wasn’t that. Before you could think twice, you leaned forward in your seat and gathered his hand in yours. His warm skin touched yours– sending shockwaves through your entire body. 

“None of this was your fault,” you assured him. “In fact, you've shown me more kindness in the last few hours than I think Justin has shown me in the last year. I’m so grateful it was you who came and got me tonight, Luke.”

The words came out so easily– probably because of how true they were. 

His gaze flickered towards yours– eyes glistening with unshed tears. He spun his hand, so that your palms pressed against each other, before lacing your fingers together and squeezing gently. 

“You know I’ll never let him hurt you again, right?” he asked. 

His words sent chills down your spine. You did know, but you weren't sure if you were ready to admit that or not. So instead, you changed the subject.

"Are we almost to your house?"

Luke shrugged. "Not really- I'm closer to Stafford, probably thirty five minutes."

You frowned. "Stafford? That's the opposite direction. I thought you said my place was on your way home."

A smirk crept across Luke's face. "That might've been a tiny lie."

"Luke!" you exclaimed.

He let out a laugh. "What? I knew you wouldn't have gotten in the car otherwise. Am I wrong?"

You let out a huff of air, hating the fact that he was right.

As he put the truck in drive and continued down the road, you squeezed his hand back.

[lightsoutnaway]

No Touching

PAIRING: Max Verstappen x fem!reader

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, use of sir, dom/sub dynamics, praise kink, dacryphilia

SUMMARY: Max told you not to touch yourself while he was away leaving you desperate

WORD COUNT: 1,946

You were waiting for Max in the bedroom. He had back to back races and you weren’t able to make it to either. You hadn’t seen him in two weeks. It wasn’t unheard of to go so long without seeing Max. Time apart was unavoidable with your careers. Before Max left this time he had made you promise that you wouldn’t touch yourself while he was gone though. He had still chosen to call you every night, telling you what he was doing to himself and moaning into the phone as he took care of himself. You were not allowed to indulge. You just had to listen like a good girl. You had been incredibly frustrated for the past two weeks. It rained at the last Grand Prix and Max had posted photos of him dripping with rain, knowing when you saw them it would drive you even crazier.

Max would be home tonight though, and your torture was over. He had texted you that he had landed a half hour ago, so he would be back in minutes. You had stripped yourself down fully and were waiting on the bed for Max. You straightened out when you heard the front door open. Max laughed when he got into the room.

“You seem a little eager,” Max commented. You immediately whined at him, like a child who wasn’t allowed to play with their favorite toy.

“Max, please!” You cried. You got off the bed and moved towards him, hands going to touch every part of his body as you kissed him. Max pushed you off himself gently.

“Didn’t say you could touch me, princess,” Max said. You pouted up at him and Max chuckled.

“Don’t tease. Touch me,” you whined, going back to the bed. You laid on your back and spread your legs wide for Max, knees bent up as you looked at him. Max stared down at your glistening cunt.

“You’re very wet,” he said.

“I need you so bad,” you defended. Max ran a finger through your heat, watching as a string of your arousal stuck to his finger when he pulled away. You moaned embarrassingly loud.

“Very wet,” Max murmured. “You haven’t been touching yourself, have you, schatje?” He asked. You shook your head fiercely.

“No, Max! I was good! I swear! I didn’t touch, just like you told me. I’ve been waiting for you,” you started assuring him, scared that he would make you wait if he thought you had disobeyed. Max smiled.

“You were good?” He repeated. You nodded.

“I was good,” you answered firmly.

“Are you going to keep being good?” He asked. You were quiet for a moment, nervous about what his plans were.

“Are you going to make me wait more, Maxie?” You asked nervously.

“Are you going to be good?” Max asked again, his voice firm. You nodded hesitantly.

“I’ll be good,” you promised. Max hummed happily.

“That’s my girl,” Max praised. He grabbed your ankle and pulled you down so that your legs were hanging off the edge of the bed. He pulled his shirt off in one motion and you moaned at the simple sight of his body. He got down on his knees, pushing your legs apart. He kissed your inner thighs, raising goosebumps on your skin. His hands opened you wider for himself, but he wouldn’t touch you where you wanted him most,

“Max, please!” You cried out when he continued to ignore your throbbing cunt.

“Please what?” He asked.

“My pussy! Please, Max. It needs you!”

“Oh, does it?” He taunted.

“Yes!” You were practically yelling at this point.

“Hush,” Max scolded. “I did not make you wait while I was gone just to give in the second I got back.” You whined in protest, worried what his plans were.

“I need to come,” you whimpered. “It’s been too long.”

“Hmm,” Max hummed lightly in response, not seeming to care about the frustration you were feeling. You took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the seemingly endless torture Max had in store for you. Just as you were beginning to get control over yourself, his tongue was on your cunt.

“Oohhhhh, yes!” You moaned involuntarily. Max chuckled. He sluggishly flicked his tongue up and down your hole, drinking up the juices that were slipping from you.

“You taste good, schatje. As sweet as always,” he praised. You reached down, threading your hands through his hair. He hadn’t cut it in a while and there was plenty for you to pull at as he worked his tongue against you. You knew better than to try and control his movements. It would only get you in trouble.

The burning frustration you had been feeling for the last two weeks was cooling to a simmer when Max took your clit in his mouth. He sucked as he flicked his tongue against the head of your clit. You started thrashing against the mattress, your orgasm moments away when Max pulled away from you, leaving you panting and shaking.

“Max, please!” You begged. “I was good! I waited so long!”

“I know, schatje. I know,” Max cooed. “But I want to play with you a little bit before you get what you want.” You pouted. “Is that okay, baby? Can I play?” You whined in protest but nodded.

“Yes, sir,” you answered obediently.

“My good girl. Always so sweet to me. Always following the rules,” he sighed happily. He turned back down to your cunt. He beheld your shining cunt, his glittering prize. His lips found their way down to your clit, taking the swollen bud into his mouth again. This time he slid a single finger into you as well. The sudden sensation had you arching your back off the mattress. It wasn’t long before he had you on the precipice again.

You were panting, trying to stave off your orgasm as it approached. You never wanted to disappoint Max, but you couldn’t hide how desperate you were anymore. He slipped a second finger into you and the moan you let out was the most beautiful sound Max had ever heard.

“Can I please come, Maxie? Please, please please!” You cried helplessly.

“No,” Max answered simply. He drew his touch away from you and you cried out in protest.

“No, Max, please!” You whined. You thrashed against the mattress in frustration. You sniffled and pouted up at Max. “Please! I want to come!” You sobbed.

“Aw, poor baby,” Max cooed. He stood, reaching down to rub his thumb against your cheek, wiping a tear away.

“It hurts,” you said softly, tears slipping from your eyes.

“It hurts?” He asked quietly. You nodded.

“I need to come,” you pleaded with him.

“You’ll get to come soon,” he promised. “Not yet though.”

You whined in protest. You hesitantly reached down towards your cunt, wanting to touch yourself. Max quickly pulled your hands away from your body.

“No, princess. You know better,” Max scolded. You whined in protest.

“I waited so long,” you whimpered. “I was good.”

“I know, liefje,” Max responded. “You’re always good for me.” You mewled at the praise.

“Please, Max,” you pleaded helplessly. Max smiled softly but said nothing. He pushed his sweatpants down, his hard cock springing out of them. You shifted your legs even wider open. He stepped forward and took his cock in his hand, tapping the tip of it against your soaked pussy. You whimpered, the anticipation burning through your whole body.

Without warning he was sliding into you, his whole length easily pushing into you from how wet you were.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned. “You’re so warm.” His thrusts started slowly, savoring the feeling of your wet cunt clenching down on him as he moved. He knew what you needed though. He knew how desperate he had you and though Max liked to play with you, he always aimed to please. He sped up his movements, the sounds coming from your mouth and cunt haunting his senses as he fucked you.

“Maxie, please. I can’t this time. I need it so bad,” you murmured up to him as you felt your orgasm approaching again. He pulled you as close to the edge of the bed as you could get without falling, making sure that he could thrust into you as deep as possible. He reached down to your clit, pressing his thumb against it and rubbing in a thoughtful circle.

“Go ahead, schatje. You earned it,” he told you. With his approval, you didn’t hesitate to let the barriers inside you break and your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave.

“Fuck, Max! Max! Max!” You sobbed out as you came. The pleasure you felt was unmatched. Max revelled in the sight of you falling apart around him and let himself go as well, his knees nearly buckling beneath him as he came inside you, murmuring your name alongside a few curses.

He grabbed your hips, shifting you up the bed so you could both lay down properly. He took you in his arms, cradling your head into his chest as you calmed. He stroked your hair softly as your body settled back into itself.

“You were so good,” Max cooed. “You did such a good job.”

“Please don’t make me wait that long again,” you murmured as you nuzzled your nose against Max’s muscular chest. Max giggled.

“Why not? You didn’t like it?” He asked. You were quiet for a moment.

“A little,” you admitted. Max smiled softly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I liked it a lot,” he said smugly.

“Of course you did,” you said. “You didn’t have to go two weeks listening to me come while you couldn’t touch yourself.” Max laughed.

“Okay, that was a little mean of me,” he conceded.

“Next time I won’t call. You just have to wait,” Max said. You whined in disapproval.

“I don’t like waiting,” you pouted. Max laughed.

“Patience is good for you, baby,” Max told you.

“Maybe you should learn some yourself,” you spit back at him.

“I’m the fastest man alive,” he said. “I don’t have to wait for anything.”

“Next time you have to wait with me too,” you said firmly. Max kissed your forehead softly.

“I’m not as good as you are. I might not follow the rules,” he teased. You hummed.

“Then you’ll get a penalty.” Max laughed.

“A penalty? What kind of penalty?” He asked.

“I don’t know yet. But I’ll come up with something. You don’t always get to have all the fun,” you said.

“You didn’t have fun?” Max asked.

“I didn’t say that,” you replied. He chuckled lightly.

“My good girl. Always so sweet. Always so perfect.” You didn’t hear him, having drifted off to sleep in the comfort of his strong arms. He pulled you in closer when he realized you fell asleep, wanting to have you tucked into his warm body. He murmured a good night to your sleeping form before he reached over the bedside lamp and clicked it off. The quiet and still of the room felt comfortable. He was home again. Before he fell asleep he felt you kiss the crook of his neck, somehow drifting awake as he settled into bed.

“I love you,” you murmured. Max smiled to himself. He realized neither of you had said it since he had gotten back. It seemed like an error to him; A mistake that he needed to remedy at once. So, before he let sleep take over his body he pressed one last kiss to your forehead and whispered back to you:

“I love you too.”

[nariism]

wriothesley isn't one for grand displays of affection, whether it be through his actions or his words.

to the public eye, the two of you are nothing more than co-workers who take their lunch break at the same time. two people who have something to discuss at 3:00 pm every day (which is coincidentally the time for his tea break, as many have pointed out).

you're the first one at his door with piles of paperwork when the morning shift starts. you're the last one out of his office at the end of the day.

to the rest of the fortress, your relationship is superficial—a rumour passed on from old inmates to new ones that the warden and his assistant are secretly married.

it's always laughed off the same way: why would they ever have a reason to keep that a secret?

it's become a sort of inside joke between the two of you since the silly rumour started floating around.

"i overheard some people in the cafeteria talking about us again."

"did you say anything to them?"

you smile, placing down two boxes of welfare meals on the desk. "why would i? it's more fun to let them believe what they want."

"it doesn't bother you?" wriothesley watches you from the corner of his eye as you open them, grimacing at your meal and your bad luck.

"not really," you say, looking at him curiously. "does it bother you?"

he snorts, uncrossing his arms so he can gather you into his arms for the first time since you dropped off papers in the morning.

"nah," he hums, burying his face into the crook of your neck—the place where he seeks solace first when holding you.

"you're crushing me," you laugh, allowing him to press you into the desk with his arms squeezing you terribly tight. you wheeze dramatically and he pulls away with a grumble.

"come on, let me have this. i haven't seen you since your shift started."

"that was only a few hours ago..."

he pouts. "so you didn't miss me?"

"i didn't say that." you pinch his nose and he engulfs you again under his weight, scooping you closer to him with his arms around your waist this time.

"imagine if one of your guards saw us like this. what would happen to this grand mystery surrounding our relationship?" you sigh, hopping up onto the desk while he slots himself comfortably between your legs.

wriothesley can only chuckle. "then you would owe me three hundred coupons."

"seriously? you still remember that bet?" it was made ages ago, after all. a wager that no one would find out the truth before the end of the year.

"aw, don't be such a poor sport. three hundred coupons is nothing. need i remind you that you're married to the warden?"

"no," you breathe, holding him by the cheeks so you can press your lips to the corner of his mouth. "i don't know where you heard that false rumour, by the way. did an inmate tell you?"

your teasing makes him roll his eyes. he tackles you into a hug again. "oh hush already."

turns out that some rumours really are true.

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms

[aemondsbabe]

Love is Patient and Kind

summary: hand holding & dry humping || you aren't ready to take the next step with your monk, luckily for you he has the patience of a saint

pairing: osferth x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dry humping, very fluffy, osferth being cute and understanding and ruining other men for everyone, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.5k

a/n: welcome to day one of 12 days of smuff!! hope y'all enjoy this one! Can be read as part 1 to Wind’s Howling or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist

gif creds to @thecruel!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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“Are you sure you do not wish for me to carry that, my lady?” Osferth asks for the millionth time, nodding his head at the basket, laden with various herbs and medicinal plants, in the crook of your elbow. 

For the millionth time, you merely shake your head with a crooked smile. “I wish only for your company, monk,” you glance over at him as the two of you walk through the forest, admiring the way the early afternoon sun casts a golden halo through his hair, “I told you as much when we left camp this morning.”

Osferth merely nods in reply; your man is one of few words. A soft blush blooms across your cheeks at the thought – your man, but it was as good as true. Osferth was the first man in Uhtred’s company you felt comfortable with when you joined their cause all those months ago when they’d stopped in your small hamlet in need of a healer; you’d been by their side ever since.

In the months since, your relationship with the monk had steadily grown from hushed whispers around the campfire in the dead of night, when sleep eluded the both of you, to heated glances, delicate touches, and stolen kisses. More recently, Osferth had all but insisted on accompanying you nearly everywhere you went, which is how he’d come to follow you as you walked through the forest to gather the variety of curative plants you need.

A content sigh passes your lips as you tilt your head up, taking in the way the tips of the trees stretch up toward the blue sky. “I had almost forgotten what the sun looked like,” you joke, your heart squeezing proudly in your chest as the monk chuckles next to you, “But hopefully this summer will be dryer than the last.”

“I have prayed many times for sun,” Osferth says with a nod, blue eyes soft as he gazes at you, “Unfortunately, the Lord seems to ignore those requests.” The corner of his lips tilts up as he huffs a laugh at his own joke. 

Suddenly, a branch snaps loudly not too far off the winding path the two of you have been strolling down. Osferth acts quickly, ever vigilant, and takes your hand to usher you behind him as he draws his sword. Your breath quickens as you peek around his shoulder, pressing yourself tightly against his back as your hand grips his; you’d been assured by Uhtred’s scouts that the forest surrounding camp was perfectly safe, but in these times danger seemed to creep up from every corner. 

A buck appears a little ways down the path, followed by two more deer, each sparing you and the monk only a quick glance before scampering into the forest once more. The two of you let out a collective sigh of relief as Osferth sheaths his sword with a shy smile. 

“Perhaps now would be a good time for a break, my lady?” He suggests with a soft smile, “We’ve been walking since morning.”

“I think we’ve earned a break,” you nod, gazing up at him through your lashes, the two of you still close enough that you could make out soft flecks of green in his blue eyes, “I believe I saw a clearing a few paces back.” 

“Lead the way.” Osferth nods, keeping in pace with you as you backtrack to where you’d spotted a lush clearing through the trees only moments ago. As you walk, nearly shoulder to shoulder, the monk silently takes your hand again, his rough fingers threading together with yours. Neither of you speaks, though you can nearly feel his pleased smile from your periphery, twin to your own. 

After only a few moments, you veer off the path as the two of you step into a sizable glade, the trees giving way to a field of tall grass. Your hands stay clasped as you walk together, basket still tucked in your elbow as you lift the skirts of your linen gown to prevent it from snagging on the high blades of grass; your chest tightens once more when you glance down and notice how Osferth takes great care to step over any flowers in his path, the ones that sprinkle the meadow with pops of yellow and lilac. 

Soon, you come to a spot where the ground seems to be drier, however the monk grasps your forearm to stop you as he slips the thin, grey wool cloak off his shoulders and drapes it over the ground.

“Osferth,” you gently admonish, though a smile does creep across your lips at the sweet gesture, “I am perfectly capable of sitting on the ground.”

“A lady should not have to,” he says simply, nodding to the cloak, “Please.”

With a final glance, and a good-natured roll of your eyes, you comply, setting your basket down before relaxing atop his robe. After making sure you’re settled, the monk joins you, setting his sword to the side as he sits and leans back on his hands, scanning the treeline. 

“It’s so lovely here…” you smile as you glance around, a soft breeze causing the grass to rustle around you.

Osferth sits up beside you, a relaxed smile on his lips as he takes your hand and pulls you closer to him. “I find the company to be far lovelier,” he whispers before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, never taking more than you seem keen to give. The two of you easily fall into a lazy rhythm, your lips moving together as he guides you to lie against his chest. You lay your hand against his chest, right over his heart, thankful that he’s forgone his usual leather armor and chainmail today as you feel his warmth through the soft tunic he wears. 

He sighs against your lips, his fingers gently weaving into the locks of hair at the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and making you cling to him all the more tightly, his other hand wrapping around your waist before settling in the small of your back, holding you to him. 

After a few moments, the two of you part to catch your breath and he studies you with a warm gaze as you relax against his chest. “We are meant to be stopping in a town tonight.” Osferth says simply. 

“That we are.” 

“We could get a room together,” he breathes, making you gasp as he trails kisses across your jaw, “Just the two of us.” 

Immediately, you tense up and untangle yourself from him, sitting up with a sigh. He quickly sits up next to you and you can feel him eyeing you with concern, though you dare not meet his gaze. 

“My lady, I didn't mean to offend you…” He says hesitantly, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“You didn’t offend me, sweet monk,” you turn to him with a bashful smile, “I am simply…I don’t know if i’m ready.” 

“Ready for what?” His head tilts to the side as he eyes you curiously. 

You chuckle nervously, unsure of how to broach the topic. “Osferth, I have heard enough tales of your…prowess around the campfire to know that my skills do not match your own.” 

The crease between his brows only deepens as he continues staring at you, blue eyes flitting between your own. “My prowess?” 

“With more…intimate relations…” You say slowly, glancing away from him. 

“Oh,” he says softly before his eyes widen comically, a dark blush cascading over his fair cheeks, “Oh!”

You can’t help but laugh softly at his dumbstruck expression, your lips quirking up into a soft smile despite your nerves. 

The hand on your shoulder tightens as he leans closer to you. “My love, you need not fret over it,” he whispers, blue eyes conveying a deep seriousness, “We can get a room at the tavern and not do anything at all.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion – you’ve always been told to expect a very different answer from men. “What?”

He huffs out a soft laugh and pulls you back down to lie on the grass with him once more. “I mean what I say,” he says softly, one hand stroking your hair, “We can get a room and just kiss or cuddle or merely talk, I don’t care.” You look up from where you’ve had your cheek laying against his chest, the emotion in his eyes shocking you for a second, “I just want to be with you.” He whispers finally.

You can feel yourself blushing as he speaks, the apples of your cheeks heating up deliciously under his kind gaze. A girlish giggle erupts from your lips before you can stop it, which only makes him laugh too as you bury your head against his chest and bite your lip, breathing in his familiar scent of leather and campfire smoke. 

After a moment, the two of you calm down and you finally look back up at him, “Kissing sounds good…” you nearly whisper, suddenly shy as he surveys your face.

Osferth merely chuckles, low in his throat, and rolls the two of you over. Normally, this is when you’d be pushing any other man off of you with some mumbled excuse, but you can’t help but feel safe with the sandy haired monk, taking him at his word that whatever you were willing to give would be enough.

“We have time, and plenty of herbs already,” he rasps, his voice thick with an arousal you’d only heard on a very scant few occasions when the two of you had shared frantic kisses in the night once the rest of the men were asleep, “Why wait until tonight?”

A small giggle escapes you once again as the blush on your cheeks extends down, almost all the way to your chest, but you nod nonetheless, your arms coming up to snake around his neck as you pull him down to you. A small whimpery breath escapes you when his lips touch yours yet again, and he responds in kind with a low groan, the sound rumbling from his chest. His lips are soft against your own as the two of you move leisurely; once again, he lets you set the pace, only licking at your bottom lip after you do the same to him first. 

Your thighs spread as your kiss deepens and you moan again when he slots himself between your thighs, the linen of your dress hiked up just above your knees. A shiver rolls through you at the feel of him on top of you, so warm and weighty.

“Is this alright?” He breathes, navy eyes blinking between each of yours as he checks for any signs of discomfort from you, visibly relaxing when he finds none.

Wordlessly, you nod, bobbing your head eagerly as you pull him back down. His hands roam carefully over your body as your lips and tongues move together, breathlessly licking into each other's mouths. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hardness pressing against your center, a pleased hum emanating from your chest at the realization that you’ve affected him this much with only a kiss; the pride in your heart twists into something different, something deeper as a knot forms and begins tightening in your belly.

“My lady –” Osferth mumbles as he starts to pull away from you, an apologetic smile on his handsome face.

“Don’t!” You say quickly, tugging him back to you and surprising even yourself as you wrap your legs around his trim waist, “Please, I – It’s good.” You confirm breathlessly, eyebrows quirked up with need as you look up at him through your lashes. 

“Yeah?” He asks, unable to wipe the pleased grin off his face as he settles back on top of you, careful to keep most of his weight off of you as he presses against your center again.

You nod, already threading your fingers into the short hair at the back of his head to draw his lips back to yours. A breathy, high-pitched moan leaves you at the feel of his clothed length pressing against you, the ties at the front of his breeches only adding to the pleasurable sensations that zap through you as he starts rolling his hips against your own.

His pace quickens as he breaks away from you, panting against your skin as he traces wet kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your head lolls to the side as you whimper and whine underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel his hard cock twitch against you, even through the fabric of your smallclothes.

You’re quick to match his pace, using the leverage of your legs wrapped around his middle to ruck yourself up into each thrust, earning grunts of pleasure from the monk. 

“My lady,” he groans, one hand fisting into your hair as the other trails down to run appreciatively over the bare skin of your thigh, “Y-You are bewitching.” He gasps, mouthing at your neck, his cock no doubt leaking into the leather of his trousers. 

Your only reply is a choked out moan of his name as your back arches underneath him, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter as the ties of his breeches rub over your pearl deliciously, your smallclothes no doubt soaked. 

Blessedly, Osferth seems to understand the desperation in your voice and movements and pulls back to look at you, both of his hands quickly grasping yours, fingers threading together as he holds them to the earth beside your head.

 “Sweet girl,” he grunts as he gazes down at you, a rosy blush cascading beautifully over his high cheekbones, “P-Peak, my lady, please,” he pants as his fingers tighten against your own, “I’m, God be good, I’m right behind you.”

You nod frantically, your only sound a choked out sob as you tense underneath him when his hips rut perfectly against yours, the knots of his pants catching against your sensitive bud in just the right way to tip you over the edge. You twitch underneath him, white knuckling his hands when you feel your center clenching helplessly around nothing as pleasure buzzes through you. 

Osferth reaches his end mere seconds after you, humping against you two or three more times before tensing, his eyes squeezing shut as his own high washes over him, cock spasming in his breeches as his spend leaks into the waiting fabric. 

“You’re beautiful,” you declare softly, the words tumbling from your lips as soon as you think of them.

The monk blushes somehow more heavily above you, though a soft smile graces his lips. With a soft sigh, he falls to his side, bringing you with him. Your cheek once again finds its home against his chest and you smile at the sound of his heart thumping wildly as he pulls you closely to him, one arm wrapping protectively around you as he tucks the other under his head, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“You flatter me, my lady,” he says lowly, a pleased rasp to his voice. “You are truly an angel,” he continues after a moment, “A beautiful, precious angel.”

You smile contentedly, his heart thudding steadily in your ear as you let your eyes drift shut, happy to stay in this still, safe bubble with your monk for as long as the outside world will allow.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[pedgito]

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐕𝐄 | Marcus Acacius x reader

↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi

summary | once your dad's greatest friend, now his greatest enemy. you cannot shake the desire and care you feel for the fallen general, even as he heads toward death.

author's note | LISTEN, none of this is going to be accurate. and frankly idc, i'm horny i needed to write this do not come at me. no source material? idc i'm still writing it. anyways, enjoy the p*rn. (if you're reading this prior to the movie coming out, none of this is canon. this is just an idea that i wanted to write and felt like posting, if you do not like the idea of writing without source material, please do not engage or send me asks to be combative, they will be deleted. i won't be continuing this specific fic and will not be writing for him again until the movie comes out.)

content warning | 18+ smut, this is dbf for the gladiator girlies (gn), sneaking around, descriptions of smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampies, breeding kink, age gap (reader is early 20s, marcus is late 40s/early 50s), alcohol tw, innocence kink

word count —2k

You knew he would be here soon, he must. 

You curled into the dark corners of the arena hall, having been here since dawn with your own father, a high military commander who struck down Marcus as punishment for such things even he wouldn’t tell you about. You knew nothing, heard nothing—you weren’t allowed such privilege. 

It has been days since you last saw him—Marcus. General Acacius to many, another esteemed leader amongst the masses, and a once great friend to your father. Though, that was no longer.

You often called him sir, finding that General Acacius was quite the mouthful. Or often just General, but his endearment toward you was blatant and he insists, almost pleading that you drop the formality when alone. Which was easier, as your fondness of him grew.

It started at a celebration, one of the many grand parties thrown in celebration of fight won or any reason for the men to drink, but Marcus liked to linger. Often tucked away in a corner watching the madness unfold, you were too curious to stay locked up in your room.

The first night he caught your eye, it was a smile around the edge of his silver goblet drowning in red wine, a hand crossed over his chest as he watched you slip away in fear that he may say something to your father.

But, he never did.

For weeks after, it progresses. From a smile, to a lingering gaze, eventually he finds himself inching closer to you, week by week. Until one night he finally finds the courage in himself to be waiting by the corner you often sneak around, watching curiously.

“You are pushing it, dove.” He speaks softly, his eyes downturned to look at you from the step he was on above you, slowly inching down until he was level, “if he catches you—”

“He hasn’t,” You tell him in a clipped, hushed tone, “and you haven’t said anything. You won’t….will you?”

He bypasses the question, “Why do you come here?” Marcus curiously asks, “These men, they are—animals, if they see you dressed like that, they would not hesitate to—”

You had on a pale nightgown, thin and barely enough to cover your modesty but it was enough. The sticky, summer heat prickled your skin, formed a line of sweat across your brow and you huffed out at his words, “My father would murder them. Besides, you are not like them. So, why do you linger here?”

He was much more than a friend, closer and akin to family. 

But, he had his own troubles. Stepson, a wife, he should be away caring for them. Yet, he was there with a disgruntled scowl and eyes only set on you.

“Why not?” He shrugs, “It is…quite entertaining. Isn’t that why you sneak around here to watch?”

You mimic his shrug, shying away slightly as you pull away to leave, but his hand catches your wrist, his cup placed in the gap of pillars separating you both. His facial expressions show an internal battle of thought, like he’s fighting against the bad and hoping the good would win out.

Unfortunately, the bad prevails.

“Let us walk,” He tells you, nodding toward the exit a few feet away, “if you would accompany me?”

You nod eagerly, switching the grip on your wrist to curl around his bicep, muscular and hard from years of fight training. He flexes slightly at the touch, covering his free hand over yours in a comforting gesture. 

He made you feel safe. And that was all that mattered to you.

—

The walk was the first mistake.

It wasn’t more than a few minutes before you found yourself tucked away by a nearby tent, unbuckling and unfastening Marcus out of his gear hastily before he fucked you under your nightgown—gentle but firm. He was the first man, the first ever to have you in such a way. You’d told him so as your hands shook under the weight of his gaze, the taste of bitter wine on his lips. He’d kissed you as he pushed his cock inside of you and didn’t stop until you were tipping over the edge.

Over time, you grow bolder. Sneaking him back into your home was easy, knowing the guards weren’t as watchful in the late, late hours of the night. It was dangerous, reckless, but as you tug him down into the cellar and sink to your knees, it all fades away quickly.

His little dove, he often calls you. Sweet dove, so pure and innocent. His hand caresses your chin as you swallow him down, eyes locked on his half-lidded gaze before he comes down your throat, nose scrunching up slightly and his brow furrowing, biting at the back of his other hand to muffle the groan that escapes him.

It was always like this—hurried and quick fucks that didn’t diminish the feeling, but reminded you how easily you could both be caught. It continues for months…and months, until suddenly he stops coming around.

No parties, no visits—Marcus had become a ghost.

But, enough digging had led you here, tucked away in the shadows again—but watching as he fought for his life. The other man was much older, weaker, and Marcus struck him down within a matter of minutes, blood splattering across his face as he stuck again and again, bashing the poor man’s skull in until it was nothing, teeth gritting as his body surged with adrenaline.

Gladiator fighting wasn’t a new thing—and you knew he wasn’t the only one, but why?

He’s making his way down the arena toward the pillar you are tucked behind unknowingly, alone and battered as the guards run off to dispose of the body. You aren’t sure where Marcus is going now or when you would see him again, but you take the chance when you know no one is watching, grabbing him by the armor plate on his chest and pulling him away and into a dusty closet, knocking into a stack of buckets in the process.

You gasp as his hand wraps around your neck, fist cocked back in preparation of an attack.

But, then his eyes land on you.

“Dove, what are you—”

You shush him quickly, hands molding against his face and the dried blood, his breathing quick and short as you attempt to calm him.

“I had to see you—I thought…I thought you had—”

“I might as well be,” Marcus replies somberly, “we cannot meet like this. We cannot meet at all.”

“It’s fine, It’s fine–” You assure him, reaching forward to press your lips against his.

Marcus pulls away hesitantly, grabbing your face roughly until you look at him, eyes widening.

“They will kill you. I cannot see you again. I should not even be here with you.”

Your eyes well with tears, forcing yourself forward again to capture his lips and this time he allows it, opening his mouth slightly as your tongue dips inside, working silently at the buckles to his chest plate.

“No talking. Let us…enjoy this. If it is the last time.”

You were both well aware—he would fight for his life or die, that was it. And he would fight until that point came. He was no longer a General, completely stripped of his power. But, he was still Marcus. And you would hold onto that for as long as you could.

He’s shaking, the adrenaline raking his body and making him restless as you kissed him, tongue dipping into his mouth again as his hands roamed, squeezed, caressed. 

“I will not break,” You whisper into his mouth, “take what you need, Marcus.”

It was all he needed to hear, turning you around swiftly and forcing your down with a hand against your back, arms pressing into the shelf in front of you as he pushed up the silk, carefully woven and intricate fabric of your dress—so pristine and perfect. He wanted to rip it off you, be he refrains, squeezing at your hips while he kneels behind you.

“Marcus, you need not—”

“Quiet, little dove. Let me have this,” He licks against your cunt hungrily, noisy slurps as he lapped you up, squeezing less than gentle at the inside of your thighs as they shook, his tongue swiping over your clit, a broken moan slipping past your lips, “beautiful—let me hear you.”

“Marcus,” You plea, his fingers joining his tongue as they breached you and drag against the soft, but incredibly sensitive spot inside of you, your hand reaching for his wrist tucked between your legs as you whined out his name once more, twice, until your legs gave out, feelings his strong, broad shoulders flexing as he used his brute strength to keep you upright, licking up the gush of fluids that leak out of you, rising with haste and untucking himself from his garments, wrapping a gentle hand around the back of your neck before he’s pulling you upright harshly.

“Want to leave you something,” He whispers against the shell of your ear, “something to remember me, if I shall never leave here. Something of me for you to carry on. Alright, sweet dove?”

You nod knowingly, as Marcus had always been careful to pull himself out before breaching that point. He was always careful, hesitant—but being on the brink of death, he found himself careless and desperate. He couldn’t let you go.

He slips inside of you with a hand tucked around your throat, pulling your back to his chest as he snapped his hips into you firmly, groaning lewdly into the side of your neck as he bit down, squeezing at your throat with every soft sound you made and you want it just as bad, forcing your hips back into every push of his cock—you were positive this pain would last you into next week, but you needed that reminder. His fingers dip into your skin, hard and uncaring and sure to leave marks, but that was what you wanted.

And his groans quickly turn needy, more high-pitched than you’ve ever heard them

He’s holding back, restraining himself. You turn your head, catching his heated gaze as he pants, your thumb tracing over his lip. His hand drags over your stomach, rests, curious of how beautiful you would look swollen and carrying his child. 

It is a hopeful and distant dream, one that he will never foresee.

“Give it to me, Marcus,” You beg him, “I want it.”

It so easily undoes him, “Take it, my dove,” He growls, coming deep inside of you with a shaky thrust of his hips, squeezing you tight against him, “I think of you, always. You must know—know that.” 

It pulls at your heart, tugs in a way that makes your entire body ache. He pulls out with a low grunt, silently tucking himself away as you adjust your dress.

“And I love you,” You admit, watching as his gaze pulls up quickly, “even if you cannot say it back. I know. I know you do.”

Marcus breathes harshly through his nose, crowding you once more but it is soothed by a gentle kiss, “You need to leave—do not come back here.”

“Marcus,” You counter, sadness lacing your tone.

“If, by some miracle, I make it out of here,” He drags his thumb along your jawline, pausing on his words as he looks you over, memorizes you, “I will find you.”

You nod jerkily, eyes never breaking from his, “Just like you always have.”

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

thanks to @chaotic-mystery & @pr0ximamidnight for being the absolute best friends ever and beta'ing this for me on a moments notice, ily both.

[monogamia]

੭⠀It had been a long time since he had felt your lips against his, and he was starving. Or, well, blurbs of a make out session.

⋆⠀FEATURING: Frederick Kreiburg 'Composer', Norton Campbell 'Prospector', Orpheus 'Novelist'.

⋆⠀WARNING: This post contain suggestive content. Frederick behaving like a red flag. Gender neutral!Reader. May contain spoilers of Ashes of Memory.

You were walking through the stable, trying to distract yourself from your boyfriend's indecent and insistent touches under the table during breakfast. You weren’t even sure if you were allowed to wander around that part of the manor, but at no point did you consider turning back and going inside those suffocating walls.

୨୧⠀⠀FREDERICK KREIBURG,⠀Composer.

"How much longer do you plan to avoid me?" a voice asked behind you. Turning around, you saw Frederick leaning against the doorframe, his eyes watching your every move, barely blinking.

You stayed silent for a few seconds. "You told me it was better if no one knew about our relationship." He took a few steps toward you, his usual serious expression on his face—except for a slight pout. "You really are confusing, Mr. Kreiburg."

"It's Frederick to you, and you know it." He grabbed your chin, preventing you from moving—not that you would, anyway. "You seemed quite happy while talking to that novelist."

You blinked, and a genuine smile formed on your lips. As if reading your thoughts, he frowned. "It's not jealousy. It's about you preferring someone else's company over your partner's."

He didn’t wait for a response, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips crashing against yours in an almost desperate kiss. You stumbled slightly, but his hands held you firmly in place.

When you finally broke apart, after what felt like hours, to catch your breath, he didn’t stop. Instead, his lips trailed to your neck, nibbling at your skin.

"Visit my room tonight…" you managed to murmur, fighting the soft moans threatening to escape. Frederick paused for a second.

"No," he said, pulling back to look at you. "We’ll… talk here, though I won’t refuse your invitation for later." The composer tilted your chin up, giving you one last kiss, unsurprisingly far from gentle. "Now, don’t act like you don’t know what I want you to do. We have plenty of time and privacy without your "friends" around." he said.

୨୧⠀⠀NORTON CAMPBELL,⠀Prospector.

As soon as your feet touched the grass again, you were pulled back into the stable. Your eyes widened, teeth ready to sink into the hand covering your mouth—until your memory recognized the gloves.

When you stopped struggling against his grip, your boyfriend turned you around, his hands now holding your waist. His sulking scowl softened into a sly smirk when he noticed how startled you were. Before you could scold him, he pressed his lips to yours, pushing you against the wall.

"Hush, now. That stupid scientist is stealing all the attention that should be mine." he muttered against the kiss, his leg slipping between yours and spreading them apart.

"She’s an entomologist," you corrected him, gripping his shoulders. You swore with every passing second that you would push him away, but your body refused to obey. That is, until his hands left your waist and moved to your zipper.

"Enough." Your chest heaved as you fought to catch your breath. "You’ve had your fill, haven’t you?"

Norton grumbled, resting his head on your shoulder and giving your neck a light bite. "I don’t understand why we can’t just act like a couple." You stroked his hair in a small gesture of comfort. "Let’s just get the money and leave this place, go to some place where I can actually fuck you whenever I want, without having to wait for the time those idiots to get distracted."

୨୧⠀⠀ORPHEUS,⠀Novelist.

You were just passing through the stable, checking its condition, when you were suddenly pulled into one of the stalls. Orpheus didn’t even give you time to process what was happening before kissing you without hesitation.

His arm wrapped around your waist, while his other hand cupped your chin. You couldn’t bring yourself to break the kiss, let alone resist, your own arms encircling his neck and pulling him closer.

Pausing the kiss, he smiled. "I missed your lips." His face then leaned into the crook of your neck, burying itself there and taking in your scent. He began trailing kisses down your neck, drawing a soft sigh from you.

His arms pulled you closer, gently lifting you slightly to bring you closer to his height, resuming the kiss. It grew rougher and more passionate with each passing second.

His hands slid up to your shirt, undoing two buttons before you caught his wrist, giving him a teasing smile. “Where are your gentlemanly manners, hm? Aren’t you going to recite poetry in my ear first?”

“Haven’t we moved past that stage?” he asked, sucking the skin on your neck hard enough to leave a mark. “Besides, it’s been so long since I’ve had some quality time with my beloved. Are you really going to blame a man for loving?”

You laughed at his silly and cheesy excuse, your eyes following him as he knelt down and removed his monocle. “May I?” he asked with a smile.

[thatfreshi]

Could I request an Astarion/GN!reader(Tav) where reader has trauma around their throat being touched and stuff but bears through the panic attacks just so Astarion can feed and Astarion only finds out after they make camp and confronts reader/Tav about their mental breakdown after a battle they had prior in the day?(reader got grabbed forcefully by the neck?) Essentially a bit of angst and comfort?

Set in act 2!!

TW - choking, panic attack, disordered eating behaviors

Recommended Song: Don't Invest In Me - Adam Melchor

Battle is horrifying, something Astarion never truly quite realized until he fell in love you with. He's talented, especially at killing people. He's never had to worry in a fight, because it was always just him. Now he has to worry about you, and it's painful, not being able to be by your side constantly, watching you in perilous situations, looking death right in the eye. When your group ran into a few violent adventurers yesterday, you weren't expecting any trouble. Suddenly, metal clashing, magic moving through the trees. Astarion moved quickly, offing one of the offenders almost immediately. When he turned to see who was next, bloodlust in his eyes, he saw you being held by the throat. You were frozen, running out of oxygen, tears welling at your eyes. He ran through the trees, running his blade through your captor's back.

"Tav? My dear, are you alright?"

You can't speak, utterly shocked. No one had ever tried to choke you in the throes of battle, and it reminded you of awful things, things that were better left unsaid. He checks you for any other wounds as you're trapped in your own mind. The fighting continues, but he doesn't care. All that matters is you, the others can handle themselves just fine. And if not, that's their loss, not his.

After thoroughly checking you over, he can't find anything else of concern. The bruising on your neck though, it's black and blue already. Racing thoughts, wondering if there's been any lasting damage. He can't decide if he should be more concerned about the fact that you're practically frozen in place or if your windpipe is destroyed.

"The fuck are you doing? We have shit to deal with!"

Karlach silences her complaints when she sees you lying on the ground. Astarion doesn't even look up at her, afraid. He's only ever truly had one thing, one thing that was his, and that's you. Everything else feels so impermanent, but you? You're constant.

"Astarion! Astarion!"

She yells out his name until he finally snaps back to look at your tiefling friend.

"Take Tav back to camp, we've got it covered."

Karlach then runs off, back to assist Wyll with a shadow-covered half-elf. You groan in pain, your neck on fire. As you start to come back to reality, you realize you're in the vampire's arms, a vampire currently moving through the dark as quickly as possible. Neither of you have lights on you, but he knows there are still torches lit at camp, he just has to get there before the shadow curse starts to take hold. You're light-headed, both from lack of oxygen and the panic attack.

"Where...?"

"Hush darling, it's alright. We're almost there, almost to camp."

Through a couple more feet of trees, the two of you make it, bathing in the warm light of the torches posted behind the brush. He takes you back to your tent, where your bedrolls lie side by side. He silently curses himself for not knowing any healing magic, promising himself he'll finally learn after this.

"Aster?"

You call out groggily.

"Yes my love, I'm right here."

Ceasing the nervous pacing, he sits by your side.

"What... what happened?"

He almost doesn't want to say, worried about how you reacted while it was happening.

"One of the shadow-cursed, they... they had you in a nasty chokehold, and I killed them."

You shift, wishing he didn't have to know about all of this.

"Sorry."

"About what darling? You've done nothing wrong."

"About not telling you- not telling you about it."

You're gasping to get your words out, your throat clearly damaged. He furrows his brow in concerned confusion.

"I- I really don't like people touching my neck, doing anything to it to be honest. Wasn't expecting one of them to grab me like that."

Coughing at the end of your sentence, you don't see Astarion's eyes travel through his thoughts, realizing what that means.

"Darling... you let me feed off of you almost every evening."

You smile a little.

"I know."

He grabs one of your hands, clasping it in both of his.

"I'll never do it again. I'm so sorry, I had no idea."

Frantic, worried he's done something irreversibly wrong.

"No, no Aster it's okay. Does it suck sometimes? Yeah, but I need you to be healthy. Besides, what's a better way to work through your trauma than exposure therapy?"

"That's not fair. I can find something else, some other way."

"And what, go back to forest animals? You know there's nothing for you out here, in the darkness."

"Then I'll simply starve! Done it before, I'll do it again."

Gods, he's stubborn. You don't blame him, he would never want to cross anyone's boundaries after his have been trampled a million times.

"My love, come here."

You reach out, beckoning to pull him down beside you.

"If I didn't want to do it, I wouldn't. You need to feed, and I can provide that. You do plenty for me, let me do this one thing for you."

"But, but you hate it."

"Yeah. Those two things can coexist, my hate for people touching my neck, and my love for you. I can put up with the anxiety if it means you're okay."

"I would be okay though."

You cup his face in your hand, making sure he's looking at you.

"I'm telling you I'm okay, and that you deserve more than rats. Okay?"

You've been around him long enough, you know his logic. If he survived for two hundred years living off of flies and rats, he certainly doesn't need blood like yours. If he had starved for an entire year, he could take a few months before getting to Baldur's Gate. Sometimes you have to remind him that survival mode isn't living, that he's allowed to have nice things. Tears fall from his eyes.

"Are you sure my sweet? Absolutely certain?"

"Of course, and if I ever needed you to stop I would tell you, promise."

You put your pinky out, and he stares at it.

"What... what are you doing? Is this you offering me to feed off a singular finger? Because if so, that's uh-"

"No, gods! It's a pinky promise."

"A... a what?"

You start laughing, so hard that you start coughing again, tears falling down your face.

"You've never heard of a pinky promise?"

It pulls at your heart a little, realizing he probably never had anyone teach him.

"I guess I haven't."

You put your pinky out, and he does the same, and then you hook yours, interlacing the small finger with his.

"There, I pinky promise that I'll tell you if you need to stop feeding on me."

As you pull your hand away, he looks confused.

"And that's what, some non-verbal contract?"

"I guess so Mr. Magistrate."

You start laughing again.

"Okay, you have thoroughly scared me, and made me cry, and teased me, in one night! I'm not sure how much more I can take."

There's a hint of humor in his tone. Honestly, he also thinks it's ridiculous that he was a magistrate, considering he was terrible at it, at least from the small things he remembers.

"Well, it's over now. I'm okay, and we're safe."

He narrows his eyes.

"I'm still going to have Shadowheart look over you when the rest return."

"Well, that's your fault for not learning healing magic."

"Okay, you don't know any magic, so I don't want to hear it!"

The two of you stay up for hours, laughing at stupid jokes, hysterical from the tragedy that evening. Sometimes after something horrible, you just need a good laugh, especially with your easily provoked lover.

[xreaderbooks]

Paradise on Earth (22)

Chapter: 22. The Bells

Pair: JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader

Summary: stuck in a room with Rafe and the impending sense of doom.

Warnings: language, mentions of violence, hostages, strangling, drowning

Word Count: 1.9k

Wattpad | AO3 | Playlist

Chapter 21 | Series Masterlist | Navigation | Next Chapter

Rafe clutched onto your shoulders with a frantic look, "No bullshit, Do you have the diary?" 

You didn't want to talk to him, your eyes traveled to Kie's worried gaze welled with tears, a deep frown set in her features that matched your own. "No." 

It was the only word you planned on speaking to him, one word for him to let go of his hold on you. When he didn't immediately remove his hands from your shoulders, you brushed them off and walked to the opposite side of the room. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

You didn't have the book. Would it even matter if you told Singh that you didn't have the book? With the way you perceived him to be unhinged, you doubted that he would believe you. 

"We're fucked," You spoke directly to Kie with concerned eyes, whatever happened to Rafe was not your problem anymore and if you were being honest with yourself, he never was. 

~~~

You and Kie took up the bed and had Rafe sleep on the floor, your room was long forgotten and it didn't seem like the guards cared, you weren't going to be able to escape either way. 

You dreamt of the water, weaving beds of leaves, and being taught how to spearfish. It was a memory of a lifestyle you lived not too long ago, it felt like a dream. 

Kie was above you a distant look on her face as she spoke to you in a hushed tone, "I have a plan, but you have to trust me." Anxiety settled into your chest as you remembered you were not still stranded on the island or even on the outer banks. The bed you sat up in with eyes still crusted with sleep belonged to a man willing to murder you and your best friend for a diary you currently did not have. 

"What plan?" You rasped.

She moved fast, knocking on the window where a guard stood by and looked at her expressionless. "Go get Mr. Singh, I need to talk to him." She mouthed to him, he didn't move an inch, he simply turned his back to her. 

"Kie, whatever you're planning isn't going to work if you don't talk me through it," You moved out of bed to follow her to the door and noted how sore your body felt. Your leg felt tender and bruised. When you looked down to inspect it, you saw the inside of your flesh from how deep the wound was but it wasn't bleeding so you called that a positive. You limped as you followed her around the room. 

"It has to," She insisted. She pounded on the door, Rafe stirred in his sleep, waking up to her shouting for the man who was posted in front of it. 

"The hell are you two doing?" Rafe's question goes unheard. 

When neither of you two acknowledged him he tried to get your attention, "Hello?" 

Ignoring Rafe, You shook your head,  "I'll go with you. He seems to have some sort of interest in my family history, maybe it'll help." 

"No fucking way," Rafe tells you. "Can someone please tell me what's going on?"

"Stay out of this," Kiara snaps at him. "Y/n, I'm going, you're hurt."

"I was just fine last night," You lift the leg of your silk pajama pants and show her that the bleeding had stopped. "It's a scratch."

She narrows her eyes, "You need stitches. I'm going."

The face of the man who's on guard duty comes in and Kie tells him she needs to speak with Singh urgently. He side-eyes you and Rafe and says, "Yes." He snatches her bicep.

"I got this," She whispers to you before she's dragged out of the room. 

You punched the door in frustration, stressfully running your hands through your hair, and slid down the door, clutching your knees to bend to your chest. You heard Rafe take a step in your direction and your eyes jumped to his tense form. 

"What is she going to do?" He asked. 

You didn't respond, you thought if you ignored him, he would go away. He didn't. 

"Y/n, Can we just talk?"

"No." 

"Is 'no' the only word in your vocabulary now?" 

You wanted to say that it was the only word you thought of when you saw him. It was a no to keep yourself from him, a no that should've been said when you became entwined in each other's lives deeper than they were or should have ever been. His whole existence to you is a no. 

Instead, you said, "No."

"Please, Angel-" He pleaded. You cringed at the nickname that once made you feel weak-kneed, you didn't want to feel anything towards him or the words he spoke. 

"Don't." You sent him a warning look, he didn't deserve any moment in your presence from the moment he strangled you. The moment he shot Peterkin and framed John B, all the way to when he drowned Sarah. He didn't deserve you way before then. 

"Just hear me out, alright?" He kneeled to your level, "Please." 

You turned your head to stare blankly at the wooden floorboards, he wasn't going to stop trying to talk to you. "I have nowhere to go, Rafe, so say whatever you want to say to me but I don't care. It doesn't change anything." 

"I love you," He confesses and your heart tightens. 

You deny it with a shake of your head, you didn't want to hear this, but you did just tell him to say whatever he wanted to. He's trying to lower your guard, you tell yourself. Don't let him get to you.

"I do, you know I do-" He sounded like he was pleading for you to believe him. 

"You shot and drowned your own sister, what do you know about love?" You helped yourself up from the floor and walked around the room anxiously, ignoring the ache in your ankle and picking at the skin around your nails.

You wished Kie would've woken you up earlier and told you her plan. You felt bothered, even more so that she left you alone with Rafe. 

"What went down between me and Sarah has nothing to do with us." 

"There is no us." You laughed humourlessly, "Do you remember strangling me that same night?" 

"I'm sorry, alright, you don't know how sorry I am. I never meant to hurt you." His eyebrows creased to match the pout displayed on his face. "My mind just goes places sometimes."

You halt in your steps and face him, "It is not my job to help you stay sane or to relieve you of your guilt, nor your deep-rooted daddy issues, Rafe."

You barely caught him flinching at your words but you did and didn't hesitate to continue, "I meant what I said that night. That I loved you, I did, but I've gotten over it and eventually you will too so while you deal with that, if you truly do love me then you'll leave me and my friends alone." 

He opened his mouth to say something but Kie came through the door with a forceful shove.

"Kie?" You softly spoke her name, the girl was visibly upset. She held her head in her hands and her face was red. "What happened, what did he say?" 

She avoided looking directly at you, "It didn't work."

"What didn't work, can one of you tell me what you just went to do?" Rafe insisted. 

"After everything you've done, we don't owe you shit, Rafe." Kie sounded tired. "Shooting Peterkin, Sarah, Y/n."

Little did she know you had already had this conversation with him. 

"Peterkin, I was protecting my father, okay?" He came closer to you both and you stepped in his way to block her from him just in case. He glanced at you and Kie, scoffing. "I did what I had to."

You sat next to her, rubbing circles on her back to soothe her, Rafe's voice cut through the calm with his excuses. You noted how he got more defensive around her. 

"I'm as much of a victim as she is- think about it, what did I get from shooting Peterkin?" He waited a second as if waiting for either of you to respond, "Nothing. Okay? I had nothing against her I mean- I liked her, you think I wanted to make that choice?"

Unhinged is the word of the week, you thought, maybe you should spend less time around people like this. You almost laughed at your thought, maybe if you could stop getting kidnapped for more than five seconds. 

"What I did was a gift, from me to my father for him and I got screwed because of it, I lost the only thing that mattered to me-" He glanced at you as he said that last part and focused his attention back on Kie. "So don't get that look when I say I'm a victim."

Kie didn't do so much as glance at him as he continued his rant, but regretfully, you did. You didn't know what was wrong with you, why you felt your heart grow with pity. It was a familiar feeling when you were around Rafe, not that your feelings for him were solely based on the sympathy you felt. It was very much real and pure attraction starting from the branches of kindness he would extend to you, and only you. 

"I will admit, though, what I did to Sarah- what I tried to do- I admit that was wrong." His voice broke and tears were beginning to spill from his eyes. "I know that, so you don't have to remind me." 

"Rafe," You uttered his name barely above a whisper. You didn't want to hear anymore and risk lowering whatever shield you had managed to build to keep him out. 

"She was family, I should've never touched her, I should have never touched you." He reached out to you and recoiled, correcting himself, noticing how clearly you didn't want him to touch you. "I just lose control in moments like that, and I don't know what happened. I'm trying- I'm trying to get better." 

Kie only gave a nod of recognition that she was listening.

"I'm just saying I'm not the bad guy here, but even if I was, bad Rafe Cameron or something- you got no choice. You may not want to trust me, but I'm your best bet." 

You crossed your arms, your only way of denying him. 

"I got a boat that can get us off the island, but first we gotta get out of here and it is better if we work together." 

There was a commotion outside which made Kie rush to the window. 

"They're leaving?" You came up behind her and peered over her shoulder. 

She let out a shaky breath, "They're going to find Sarah and John B." 

"How?" You panicked, "How did he find them?"

Her face contorted into a deeper frown as she finally told you, "They were setting themselves up as bait, pretending to be hostages." 

The panic that had been festering the moment Kiara was tossed back into the prison of a room had sunk in deeper but you couldn't allow it to take over. You had to take this opportunity to form a plan to escape, there was no time to worry about your friends. 

If only you can get the guard assigned to the door to come inside, you begin to think of the possibilities. He would have to think something was going on, something that would force him to come in, get him out of the way so that there would be no obstacle preventing the three of you from leaving the room. 

"I think I have a way to get out of here." 

~~~

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a/n: been a while, how's everyone doing? I'm sorry for the major delay in updating, hope you all aren't too mad at me, its a short update but I figured something is better nothing after months of not being active

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