#now that the temps have finally dropped i get cold at night and i thought

[dollsofthewest]

Total shot in the dark, but does anybody happen to know of some historical examples of the type of nightgown Kirsten wears? Or even better, a pattern that I could use to make an adult-sized equivalent of it? I found this nightgown pattern by The King's Daughter that I might be able to alter, but its a bit expensive for my budget and also this will be my first real sewing project so the closer the pattern is to Kirsten's the better 😅

[a-spacecadet]

It’s freezing out and their landlord sucks. How is Team Chaotix going to stay warm? Inspired by my self-indulgent drawing, tons of unnecessary fluff.

…

After restlessly tossing back and forth, trying to burrow into his blanket as much as possible, Vector gave up. He was freezing.

“That's it!” He bellowed, and rolling off the couch, he stormed over to the coat closet. It wasn't that late at night yet, and all his noise must have woken his coworkers because they showed up not long after in the living room as well. Vector looked over to see them standing with blankets wrapped over them also.

"Hey boss, are you going somewhere?" Charmy inquired with his teeth slightly chattering.

"Yeah, I'm giving our landlord a piece of my mind. He's either fixing our heater or he'll find himself without one as well." Vector angrily snorted, wrapping his neck in a scarf and a fluffy hat on his head.

"It may not be wise, the weather and temperature outside is dropping, and you know our landlord, he won't help." Espio, as always, tried to be the voice of reason, but unfortunately just the sight of him trying to warm himself made Vector even more resolute.

"Well I'm gonna make him." The crocodile opened the door, letting a cool wind come in, making the three of them shiver simultaneously. (Espio had been really trying not to shiver using his breathing techniques, but it was very cold).

"Wait, we'll go with you, just in case." Espio offered.

"Mee mee to too..." Charmy chattered his teeth. They didn’t like to think about it, but all of them knew that low temps could mean more than just frostbite to them. As cold-blooded animals, it could mean possible death.

Maybe if we do all go together we could keep an eye on each other, Vector thought. It's not like the house offers much more warmth than the outdoors at this point.

"Okay, get your coats, let's go." Vector gestured to the coat closet. The two of them obeyed.

They started their walk to their landlord's place, a few doors down. They came up to the front door, Vector in the lead. He knocked VERY loudly, to the point that he could have woken all the neighbors as well.

"Hey, I've got a bone to pick with you, open up!" After several minutes of harsh knocking, the landlord finally opened up his door.

"What in tarnation Vector, it's nearly midnight. And it's freezing."

“Precisely, you—“ he pointed to his landlord’s chest as he said this “—need to fix our heater or else! I don’t pay my rent every month for this sort of hogwash!”

“You *don’t* always pay your rent every month Vector. If I recall you have a record of being late on your payments. Now get out of here before I evict you bums.”

“Why you!” Vector nearly grabbed the man by his collar but Espio held him back, and then also tried to reason with the landlord.

“Listen, this isn’t a matter of personal discomfort, we need the heat. We apologize for waking you at this hour but it is crucial that the heater is repaired.” Espio was very good at speaking calmly without shivering, but it seemed to work against him, the landlord was oblivious to how cold he really was. Despite Espio’s appeal, the landlord just huffed.

“Well it sounds like that’s your problem. I told you it’d be repaired this week and it will be repaired this week. But for now I’m going back to sleep and you should too.” With that he slammed the door in their faces. Furious at his flippant attitude, Vector pulled back, ready to slam the door through.

“Boss, don’t. You’ll only make things worse!” Espio waved his hands up to Vector, who snarled but Espio was steady. “We will get evicted for sure, and what will we do then?”

Vector sighed.

“C’mon boys, let’s get out of here.”

Charmy, exhausted from flying in the cold, started to flit down, and Vector caught him in his arms. The little bee was shivering. It took everything inside Vector not to barge into his landlord’s house despite Espio’s warnings, but he refrained. He held the bee close, wishing that he had some heat to share with Charmy, but as a croc he had none to give.

Suddenly, he had an idea.

“Espio, c’mon, I know what I’m gonna do.” Vector picked up his speed walking back to their place, and Espio followed dutifully.

When they got back, Vector went straight to the bathroom. Inside was a small tub, and Vector turned on the faucet full blast. Espio watched as he did this with slight surprise.

“Uuh…boss, our water bill…” He stuttered as he watched the tub fill up slowly with water.

“It’s either the water bill or the electric bill. Not gonna let Charmy freeze.” He still had the bee tucked in his arms. “At least the water heater ain’t broke, am I right?” Espio wasn’t sure what to say in response, he just watched the tub fill with steamy hot water. Their little bathtub never looked more inviting.

Vector started to take off Charmy’s coat, then carefully removed his helmet. Already the bee was warming up by being next to the steam of the hot water.

“Ooh is it bathtime?” Charmy had perked up and was looking over Vector’s shoulder at the water below.

“It sure is. Now take your shoes and gloves off.” Vector set him down on the ground, then he began to do the same. He wouldn’t fit in the tub completely due to his size, but it was better than nothing.

“Okay!” Charmy happily complied. Espio watched, a bit jealous that Charmy got to go into the bath first, he thought of himself as too old to get in the bath with them. He tried to be content to patiently wait for his turn. He watched as Vector stepped in the tub, spilling water all over the floor, with his long reptilian tail hanging over the side. Charmy dove in without hesitation.

“Ah! I’m so warm! Wee wee wee! Hot water! Hot water!” Charmy was cheering, but also the water was very hot and he wasn’t quite used to it. Vector was laying stomach down, so Charmy crawled up on top of the ridges on his back. “Hot water!”

“Too hot Charmy?” Vector asked, concerned. Charmy paused, but then shook his head vehemently.

“No! I like it!” He smiled. “Espio, don’t you want to join?” He asked the chameleon, who hadn’t moved since Vector turned on the water.

“No that’s okay Charmy, I’ll wait.” He had his arms crossed, trying not to express how much he really wanted to go in. However, to his disadvantage, Vector was a very perceptive detective. He also cared for Epsio’s well-being.

“Espio there’s no need to wait. Get in and warm yourself. Look, I know I’m big, I’ll even get out.” Vector picked up Charmy and placed him in the tub to step out, which he did, dripping water all over the floor. He then turned on the faucet again for more hot water to fill what had spilled out. Espio still hesitated, so Vector pushed him towards the tub.

“I’ll dump you in there with your clothes.” Vector smiled a toothy, mischievous grin. A bit flustered, Espio then started to remove his gloves.

“Ah that won’t be necessary. I’ll get in.” Espio eyed the smiling croc warily, hoping he didn’t just push him in. As he stepped in, his body instantly began to de-tense and relax in the warm water. It felt sooo good. Charmy was beside him, playing with one of his bath toys. He was humming to himself some little tune. Espio got a little embarrassed, he wasn’t a little kid, he was 16 years old! However, the water felt way too nice for him to keep worrying about being embarrassed. He then felt slightly bad seeing Vector sitting outside the tub. His hands were covering his shoulders, but he was contentedly smiling watching his two boys finally warm and safe.

“Uh Vector, I’m sorry, you should get warm too.” Espio moved to the edge of the tub. “Charmy make room for Vector to fit as well.”

“Okay!” Charmy scooped up his toy and moved over as well. Vector was cold, especially after stepping out of the hot water and into the chilly air, so he didn’t protest.

“Thanks boys!” He happily got back into the tub, once again making a splash, but Charmy and Espio did not mind. The three of them happily relaxed, enjoying the warmth of the water and each other’s company.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

okay but imagine edgy!karl but with the spice of closer by nine inch nails just a thought

EVERYONE: WE'RE TAKING THE SONG AT FACE VALUE CHILLAX

edit by 🍭 anon. step on me.

𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞: "... 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐋..." | 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐲!𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐥

link for Closer by NIN

warnings: smut (18+), thigh riding, vulgar language, temperature play, degradation, domination/submission, phone sex, mentions of alcohol and drinking, frat boys, smoking (inc. weed)

enjoy these vignettes of straight-up filth

other requests:

sorry no thoughts just edgy karl in a band. in all seriousness though i would kill for a band au with anyone

edgy!karl and like temp play? his tongue piercing got extra cold from the ice in his drink or something and then kisses the readers neck or something and the reader shivers and then he gets ~ideas~

sitting on edgy!karls leg in front of the whole frat, just a normal get together until karl starts bouncing his leg

In honor of me losing my voice for 3 days now, can we have Edgy!Karl reacting to you losing your voice because of him? I've said my piece -🍭

Ahhhhh okay so I had this dream where it was edgy Karl but the reader was riding him while he had his arms crossed behind his head and he was smoking a cigarette and just AHHHH. Can you extend on this pwease? :3 -🐙

mk hear me out, edgy karl. Phone sex ?

do you think that for your edgy! Karl fic we could get some more sub! Karl like he gets so drunk and all he wants to do is please the reader - 🥪

intoxicated seggs with karl (obviously not blackout drunk, fully consensual etc)

You weren’t sure how you ended up where you were, or even how Karl ended up where he was, on stage with a guitar slung over his shoulder as if it were made for him. He had gotten a call earlier in the night from a friend of his whose guitarist came down with the flu, and Karl was the only one he knew who could take over on such short notice.

You weren’t even aware he could play, let alone how good he would look in a torn-up t-shirt, lip ring caught between his teeth as he mindlessly strummed along to the music, sweat pooling at his temples from the lights and the exertion. His eyes always darted to you, looking for your flushed appearance as floods of dark themes flooded into your consciousness.

Girls were practically throwing themselves at him, yet with you in the crowd, his lust-blown pupils marked you as his target. As the set drew on, Karl sipped from a beer like the rest of the band, a cigarette dangling from his lips as clouds of smoke mixed into the air of fog. Finally, a cover song came on, one that you knew well. Its heavy beat served as the background music as memories flooded into your mind from when the song had played for the two in the past...

YOU LET ME VIOLATE YOU / YOU LET ME DESECRATE YOU ... YOU LET ME COMPLICATE YOU

You poured yourself a drink as Karl stood beside you, popping an ice cube in his mouth. It was your roommate’s birthday; nothing but a small gathering with a handful of your friends and some music. “Are you iron deficient, Karl?” You queried sarcastically, a nod to his ice chewing habits and a strange visit from your family members.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I already told your grandmother that I’m fine,” he grumbled, teeth crunching down on the cube as if to demolish the story, making you giggle. He moved to step around you, arm wrapping around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your neck, his tongue ring grazing against your skin. You bit back a moan, body shivering at the feeling and he chuckled against your shoulder. “You like that, baby?” He mocked; voice husky at his realization that such a little action could get you excited so easily.

Later that night, Karl traced a path down your body with an ice cube between his pearly white teeth, grey irises watching your every reaction as he stopped at the hemline of your underpants. He traced a line down the lacy garment as you arched your back before pushing himself up on his arms and pushing the cube into your mouth. “Hold that for me, pet,” he stated, breath hot against your cold, wet skin, begging to be touched. His tongue dragged across your collarbones, the cool of the metal in his mouth making you moan around the ice in your mouth, grinding your hips against his.

As his cold mouth pressed against your inner thighs, you bit down on the cube, shattering it in your mouth as Karl chuckled. “We’re gonna have a fun night,” he promised, cold teeth nipping at your flesh to make you whimper.

I’VE GOT NO SOUL TO SELL … HELP ME GET AWAY FROM MYSELF

The club bathroom was dingy and dimly lit, but the cleanliness was the last thing on your mind as your fingers curled around the skin, Karl’s hand wrapped around your throat as he thrust into you roughly. Your makeup was running down your face from his spit and your sweat. The bass of the music was loud enough that it echoed around in the bathroom, setting Karl’s rhythm to his animalistic paces.

You smiled lazily, bliss covering your fucked out expression as he smirked at you in the reflection of the mirror with pride to see you in such a mess at his antics. His blunt nails dug into your hip, slamming your body against him as he used you like some kind of toy. His hand controlled your breathing, making you gasp for air as you rolled your hips against him, calling out his name loud enough to ricochet around the room.

The next morning, you went to answer Karl’s question about what you wanted for breakfast when your voice came out in barely a whisper. You shut your eyes in embarrassment with a hand closing over your mouth as his eyebrows raised at you. “What was that, baby? Let me hear you,” he mocked, walking over to press his thumb against your throat.

You shook your head, refusing to let him gloat about you losing your voice moaning his name the night before. He kissed you roughly, tongue pressing into your mouth to lap at your weak moans. His teeth dragged across your lips. “I said, I wanna hear you. I wanna be reminded how you lost your voice,” he stated darkly, a smug expression plastered across his face.

I WANNA FUCK YOU LIKE AN ANIMAL / I WANNA FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE

With the party thundering into the night, you swiveled through the crowd of people grinding on each other, plastic cup in your hand as you returned to where Karl and a few of the other frat brothers were sitting. He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as you handed him the drink and picked your cards back up.

You’d been playing strip poker with the other guys, who were mainly drunk out of their mind and half-naked anyway. It also helped that Karl would whisper in your ear to guide you into burning and showing the right cards. He once told you about the group of men that taught him how to play during a trip to his father’s favorite country club.

His legs spread a bit more beneath you, shifting you in his lap to sit on his leg. Shamefully, your breath hitched in your chest, a blush spreading to your cheeks as your nails dug into his arm as if to tell you to stop. He tensed slightly before realizing that the only reason you reacted was because the friction was almost a tension reliever for you. You were already riding on your winning streak, but the last thing you could handle was the feeling of his thigh between your legs and in front of all the men drugged out on smoke and hard liquor.

Karl’s lips pressed to the back of your ear, his hand moving to switch a few of your cards around while the other gripped your waist. As you won the next hand, Todd dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it behind him, rolling his eyes playfully before dropping backward and mumbling about taking a nap before he was dealt in again.

You giggled at him, only for Karl to move his thigh, dragging you against him. You peered over your shoulder slightly, glaring at him as if to tell him to cut it out, but he just smirked at you, holding your hips as he bounced his leg. His lips pressed against your shoulder. “Either you get yourself off or I get you off,” he taunted, the friction making you moan quietly.

MY WHOLE EXISTENCE IS FLAWED / YOU GET ME CLOSER TO GOD

Karl turned the radio up, tucking his hands behind his head as you dug into his jacket pocket for his lighter. You had him between your thighs, his fingers dragging up your skirt as you took the joint from behind his ear and brought it to your lips, lighting it and inhaling. Something flashing behind Karl’s eyes as you cracked his window. He grabbed your face before you could exhale, making you shotgun the smoke into his mouth. You moaned at the feeling of the drug seeping into your mind as well as Karl feeding off of your high.

He exhaled before pulling you in for a hungry kiss, moaning against your lips and digging his fingers into your thighs. You pulled away from him, pushing him back against the seat and handing him the joint before unzipping his pants. You dug your teeth into his bottom lip as you sank down on his hardened arousal, moaning at the tightening feeling. He groaned, his hand groping your ass to urge you to ride him.

He pulled away from your kiss, resting the joint between his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head. Your hands pushed into his jacket, sliding beneath his shirt as you rolled your hips against his. You pulled your fingers into your hair, tugging at the strands as one of his hands moved to brush below the hem of your shirt, moving to press his fingers into your back.

He watched you intently, teeth biting into his lower lip to keep himself quiet as you moaned. Euphoria spread across his face to mix with the cloud of smoke from the weed. You kissed him again, his tongue ring pressing into your mouth with a groan as you rode him harder, clawing at the friction and moaning at the feeling of his hands on your body.

YOU CAN HAVE MY ABSENCE OF FAITH / YOU CAN HAVE MY EVERYTHING

“What are you wearing?” Karl asked, voice low and tired from the day of traveling; static from the interference on the phone line giving his tone the feeling of an old recorded message. He’d left earlier in the week, leaving after spending the weekend with you to get back home for his brother’s birthday. He’d nearly kidnapped you from your studies to go with him, but with the impending exams, there was no way you could get away.

You plugged in your headphones, moving to lay on your back as you realized what he was up to. “I’m wearing socks,” you stated sarcastically, making him laugh on the other end of the call. You knew he’d be scrubbed of his alternative appearance while in his mother's house. Your mind wandered to how weird it felt to kiss him without his piercings.

He hummed. “Only socks?” He chippered, playful lust dripping from his words as he spoke. You pressed your fingers against your bottom lip, trying your hardest to remember what it felt like with his teeth biting into your skin.

“I’m wearing your shirt, too,” you added; moving your fingers to toy with the hem of the dark t-shirt. You hadn’t even thought twice when you slipped it on earlier. Only now did you realize how nearly pathetic it was after he’d been trapped in your bed hours prior.

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, yeah? You miss me at all?” He chided, making you chew the inside of your cheek. “Come on, tell me how much you miss me, baby.”

You were silent for a moment, his raspy voice sending heat throughout your body. You tried to picture him buried in your hair as he spoke to you, his fingers brushing beneath your clothing in the dark. “I miss you,” you hummed. “It’s cold here alone.” You chewed your lip, you were never good at dirty talk. You could hear your roommate and her group of friends downstairs giggling as they turned on some music, the lyrics drifting through the air vents.

Karl tsked. “I think that’s a lie. I know it’s warm between your legs, dove,” he answered coolly, making your cheeks flush. “Fuck, I want you,” he groaned, your eyes fluttering at his low tone as goosebumps spread across your body.

“Keep talking,” you whispered, your fingers itching to dip beneath the waistband of your underwear.

You could tell he was biting back a smug groan at your quiet plea. “You want me to walk you through touching yourself?” He almost growled. “I wanna hear you cum for me.”

I DRINK THE HONEY / INSIDE YOUR HIVE / YOU ARE THE REASON / I STAY ALIVE

The two of you stumbled into Karl’s room, the sound of music from the party drowning out slightly as he kicked the door shut, pressing his lips against yours as you tugged off his clothes. The back of your legs hit his bed frame, the pair of you tangling together before you rolled on top of him. He pulled your shirt over your head, hands settling on your hips to urge you to grind against him.

The taste of the liquor on his lips sent your head reeling as his cologne and the smell of cigarettes clouded your already muddled senses. Your fingers raked down his tattooed chest, making him groan, his eyes looking up at you submissively.

Whenever Karl was drunk, he always bent to your whim. His dominant mind seemed to flip a switch and all he wanted was to make you feel good. He wanted to be used by you like he always used you.

Heat flushed to your cheeks from the alcohol; you’d beaten Todd in beer pong, again, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have to down a few shots to level the playing field. Your mouth pressed to his again, tugging his pants down his legs before sinking down on him as he moaned deeply.

As you rode him, he moved your hand from off his neck, taking your thumb into his mouth; the metal of his tongue ring swirling against your thumb as his teeth grazed your skin. You moaned at the sight, moving your hand to settle in his hair, tugging his head to the side as your teeth dug into his neck, marking him with your mouth.

He pulled your hips against his, driving himself into you deeper as he thrust against you, making you groan against his skin. You kissed him, driving your tongue into his mouth as you savored his moans of arousal at the feeling of you.

You moved to sit up again, letting the music set your pace as Karl titled his head back in pleasure, teeth tugging his lip ring into his mouth. You clenched around him, just because you knew you could draw him over the edge before you, but his eyes flickered with a willingness to hold out that licked at the fire of determination building your tension.

He sent you a lazy smirk before reaching a thumb between your thighs from where his hands were gripping onto your hips; toying at your nerves and making your vision blur with how good he was making you feel. “You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, hips rolling against yours. You pressed your mouth to his again, basking in the taste of his words and the liquor that had melted against his tongue; ready the man between your legs to completely ruin you.

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Chances Are Masterlist

[canonobsessions]

Hey there and welcome to tumblr!! i’m a huge simp for Julian lol im so happy to see somebody writing for TPB! <3 i was wondering if you could write something involving Julian and a cudding -> confession -> sex sort of situation with a female reader?

a/n: I'm so sorry for this late response! I'd be so happy to!

Fandom: Trailer Park Boys

Word Count: 4,243

Scenario: Julian and Reader have an impromptu cuddling session that results in a confession and subsequently, a steamy encounter.

Julian didn't know how it got to this point, but he wasn't about to complain. Sometimes everything just fell into place, so when you arrived that night at his trailer on a cold, dark winter's night he rolled with it. It was just a mishap, your car breaking down before you were able to get home. Like many people, you came to him with your problem.

Unlike with some other people, Julian was happy to help you out. He didn't hesitate when he stepped aside and let you track slushy snow into his home. It didn't even cross his mind until he was stepping in it himself. Even then, it only made him more aware of your state of dress.

You definitely hadn't intended to be out long, with your short sleeves on and little to no protective clothing. You looked frigid and he had just the remedy for it.

So, you wound up on his couch, wrapped up and sharing a blanket with him while watching some schlocky action film. Nothing he was actually paying attention too. How could he be with you in the room, taking a small sip of his Rum and Coke with that pretty smile on your face.

It was almost like a dream.

"Julian, I really can't thank you enough again. I'm sorry to just drop in on you like this," He'd just gotten ready to go to bed when you'd arrived, but even then, it wasn't any kind of a bother with you around. But, he had to play it cool as he always did.

"It's no trouble, [Y/N]. Stop worrying about it," He reassured you for the fifth time, taking the moment to wrap his arm around your shoulder and squeeze reassuringly. "You couldn't help it, probably the cold messing with your car. I'll get some of the guys to help get it fixed in the morning,"

And there was that damn smile that roped him in from the moment he'd met you. At first he'd just thought he was drunk, but he'd come to learn you were as capable and friendly as you were pretty. You were one of the few people who came around the Trailer Park and helped him and his friends out on occasion.

The situation had gotten twisted up to where it almost seemed awkward to pursue you with how close you'd gotten to Bubbles and Ricky as well. That being said, he was also always in a relationship when you weren't. Nothing really ever seemed right until now.

Now. He had to find the courage to say it, but there was that pitch of anxiety in his stomach, the one he thought he could stamp out in almost any occasion, but you were special. He didn't want to mess this up.

"You're really too good to me, Jules," A damn shiver nearly crawled up his spine when you said that. That and the way you were shaking just sent a small thrill through him.

Were you still cold or were you nervous to have his arm around you? With the way you leaned into him further, it couldn't have just been nerves. You did still feel chilly, so he gently rubbed your upper arm. He wasn't just feeling your soft skin under his rough finger tips. This was just part of helping you.

Man was that stupid, he was acting like he hadn't had his fair share of pretty girls over. But, you were more than pretty, you were beautiful. Classy and sweet.

"Just doing what any good friend would," The word friend had a near sour note to it, not from leaving his mouth, but it just rang oddly. He wasn't malicious about it. It just wasn't right.

"Yeah, right!" There was an awkward inflection in your tone, but he wasn't going to push it. You were probably just more comfortable with being friends after all.

"Damn, my feet are still freezing," You'd complain quietly after a brief silence and Julian reacts without thinking about it.

"C'mere," He reached down to your ankle and grabbed it, gently coaxing your feet up onto the couch. You adjusted to the hold folding your legs off to the side. Your [E/C] eyes are filled with curiosity. He offered a smile before drawing your feet into his stomach, where he was more than warm enough to help bring you up to temp.

"When I was a kid, my grandmother would do this for me when I'd come inside after playing in the snow," He recalled the late nights he spent watching old movies with his grandmother, eating snacks and keeping warm and cuddled up together. Of course, she'd been plenty warmed up from the brandy she'd consumed time and time again.

That sweet smile of yours was back once again, but accompanying it was a pretty blush that colored your face perfectly. He couldn't help his mind when it wandered to a less wholesome thought. What would you look like, red and panting under him? What were other ways you of all people could let him warm you up?

"That's really sweet. She must have been one hell of a lady to raise someone as gentlemanly as you, Jules," You might have been somewhat teasing, but he felt warm from the compliment. She had been as good of a role-model as she could be, doing everything she could for not only him, but for Bubbles as well.

"Thanks, [Y/N]," He patted your blanket covered calf with his hand and left it there for a moment, idly tracing his thumb over your muscle in a soothing manner.

Things got quiet again as you both sat there, watching the screen with little interest in what was going on. Julian was far more focused on how good it felt to have you curled against him and to feel your legs move. You were warming up and you were tantalizingly soft. It was driving him crazy, but he was being good.

You didn't drink much of his Rum and Coke, but you did have a sip or two, just to stave off any lingering cold.

"Julian, can I ask you something?" You'd knocked him out of his thoughts with that soft inquiry. He looked at you and felt his stomach flip, seeing your uncertain look.

"Anything," It was one small word, but he put a lot of feeling behind it. It sat heavy between the two of you for a heart-beat. Time really seemed to slow as he felt the way you were starting to shake again. The way you bit your lip and fluttered your lashes, looking at him with those eyes. It really felt like you told him everything he needed to know through body language alone.

Julian leaned in, his dark eyes searching yours for a solid answer, something more than just the way your body was calling out for him.

"Do you like me, just as a friend?" He wanted to kiss the uncertainty right out of your mouth and swallow it. How could someone as beautiful and amazing as you be so unsure of what you did to him?

"More than that," His words came out softer, rougher as he tried to reign himself in. "Does that make you uncomfortable?" He didn't want to scare you. You didn't have a ride home, it was too cold to walk off. He didn't want to misread what was going on. He was playing it safe.

"No!" It was like you were yelping, like he’d hit you in the stomach with that simple question. It gave away how eager you were and Julian couldn’t help but chuckle when you clasped your dainty hand over your mouth. “No, I’m sorry. You could never make me uncomfortable. Well, not like that,” The words fell from your lips like snow from the sky. “So I do make you uncomfortable?” He was teasing you now, relishing in the fact that you’d made that first move. You’d been the one to bravely ask him just what he thought of you and it made you flustered. You weren’t uncomfortable and you didn’t feel unsafe. Good. He wouldn’t have been able to handle it otherwise. “I like you too, Julian,” Finally, you’d admit it yourself. You’d put it out there that you were interested in him and he was interested in you. It was like that last wall came tumbling down. It made you look bare and vulnerable and unsure. That just made him want to scoop you into his arms and show you just how sure he was of the situation. “So, what now,” You’d asked, looking to him for guidance. Those big, beautiful eyes drew him right in. He wasn’t going to answer you with flowery words, he was going to show you. Julian made slow moves, roping you into him with room enough to say no if you wanted to. His large palms felt right at home, gripping your thighs and tugging you to where you were seated firmly on his lap. That little gasp that left your lips only made him drag you down harder onto him, letting you feel just how much he liked you. “What do you want, [Y/N]?” He felt the way you were shaking against him, the way you tilted your pelvis to align yourself with him. As if he were a virgin again, you had him shuddering with his restraint. He palmed your thighs, rubbing them soothingly. “I-I mean, I want you, Julian, b-but not just, ah,” He couldn’t help but to rock himself up into your core when you admitted you wanted him. There was no missing that you wanted more though, so he stilled, his dark eyes searching yours again, wondering what had you hesitating. “I don’t just want to be a fling,” Of course you didn’t, he didn’t either. But, it wasn’t like he had a particularly strong history of long, stable relationships. He had more one-night stands than he did real girlfriends he’d kept in his life. How could you not see you were different than those other girls was lost on him. Both of his hands traced up from your thighs, jumping to smooth up your arms and to your neck. He savored touching you while he thought about just how deeply he wanted to reassure you. He traced a path up to your neck, where he threaded his fingers into your hair, his thumb resting on the slope of your jawline. You wouldn’t be able to look away if you tried. He met your gaze, dark brows set into a serious furrow. “Never. [Y/N], you could never be just a fling for me,” He admitted, his voice hoarse with desire and love. He didn’t want to give you a chance to respond. Gently, he pulled you into a solid, warm kiss. Your lips molded to his perfectly. Just slightly wet from how you’d licked it only moments before. He poured his passion and love for you into it, hoping to smooth out any worries that he wasn’t dead serious on how much he liked you. Julian pulled a weak moan from you when he pulled away, your lips sticking together for a split second, sending a firework of pleasure down his spine. He wanted to devour you. His big hand cradled your head as he went in for another kiss, mouth opening just slightly to mouth your lips, to trace your tongue with his own. Just the coupling, the breathy noises and moans he pulled from you were drowning out the sound of gunfire from the busted up looking television just behind you. Nothing could distract him from how perfect you felt seated on top of him. How delicious your lips were, how easily you opened up to him. How many times had he dreamt of this? Could he even count the times you’d been at the forethought of his mind when he’d jerked himself off in the shower? Now that you’d both been honest, he could make those wild

fantasies real. “Julian,” Your voice was quaking, full of lust and need that he felt hit right through him. If that wasn’t enough to tell him you needed more, the way you were grinding on his hard cock was. A near growl left the dark haired man as he greedily grasped your ass, hoisting you further onto him. He stood up with ease, the blanket covering the two of you quickly forgotten. Any previous cold having been ripped away by red-hot need. That squeal had him chuckling between your dainty kisses. He easily brought you down that narrow hall, taking just a moment to push you against the paneling to indulge in tasting you. His tongue was more than eager to tangle with your own, the sloppy noises louder still now that you were away from the TV. Back on the move, Julian kicked open his bedroom door, relishing in the way you giggled at how forceful he’d been. Instead of throwing you onto the bed, he moved all the way to it’s edge, lowering you down onto it like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held in his hands. “God, you are beautiful, [Y/N],” Julian rasped as he admired how perfect you looked on his bed, flushed and lips swollen from how excited the two of you had been to do something as simple as kiss. “Julian,” Your voice took a serious tone, your own brows ticking down as you reached up with your now warm hands, letting them rest on his face, thumb tracing along the sharply trimmed line of his beard. “Julian, you’re beautiful too, so handsome. I can’t believe you want me too,” You were gushing, about him of all people. Shaking his head, Julian took your hands into his own, placing a kiss on your knuckles. He allowed himself the chance to really look at you, just as you were. His heart filled with affection for you. For just the way you spoke to him, marveling at him. “I can’t believe an angel like you would want anything to do with a man like me,” Julian’s voice was low and dark as he leaned back in, dying for another taste of you. This time, things went further, his hands roaming eagerly while your mouths met passionately in their own special patterns. He squeezed your shoulders, massaged down your arms and to your stomach. Testing the waters, his thick fingers peaked under your flimsy shirt, stroking at the soft skin of your belly. The way your muscles flexed and you moaned made him take liberties, inching up your ribs to rub smooth, firm circles there. With your last chance squandered through a needy moan, Julian’s large hands cupped your breasts for a firm squeeze, savoring in a moment he’d imagined just a short time ago. Julian swallowed every needy noise you made as he massaged your breasts, his hips rolling down to meet your needy movements. All at once there was too much fabric in the way. You were pulling at his shirt as soon as he move away, pulling it off of his body and revealing his strong chest and shoulders. Just as excited, Julian hooked his thumbs into your shirt, pulling it up and hooking your bra with it, baring your chest to him in one smooth motion, proving just how experienced he was. God, you were a delicious sight. Your breasts heaving in the dim light of his room. Gravity knew what it was doing and it had Julian speechless. Before long, the temptation was too strong, he dove in for another kiss, smoothing over your shy features with a reassuring kiss. His lips were eager to move, leaving a damp trail of kisses down your jaw and neck. He licked at the dip of your clavicle and relished in the way you shook and gasped. Smirking up at you, dark eyes smoldering with lust, he licked a trail to your right breast, nipping at the flexible flesh he found there. Every little sensation was drawing up for the moment he took your nipple into his hot mouth, tongue lapping as he suckled. He made sure your left breast didn’t go unattended, his thick, rough fingers plucking at the pert tip, rolling the bud in between his fingers, toying with you as he enjoyed himself thoroughly. “God, Julian, your mouth is so warm,” You whimpered, egging him on, your legs curling

around his thighs, beckoning him in for more. But, yet again, there were too many clothes in the way. But, he was a practiced man, he wanted to rile you up. There was an art to getting a woman ready. He switched to the other nipple, leaving the right to tighten and harden in the cold air. Your fingers found his normally tidy black hair, mussing up the styling by tugging him closer. “P-please, stop teasing me,” You needed more, that much was obvious with how insistently you rolled up into him. He could feel just how hot and burning you were at your core, the heat between the two of you felt like it was enough to burn the clothes right from your body. Julian chuckled lowly, shaking his head as he pulled away from your breast. His eyes locked onto yours once more and he gave you a dark smirk. “No need to rush, [Y/N]. You’ll be here until your car is fixed after all,” He teased. You looked so cute when your covered your face, no doubt feeling embarrassed for your needy reaction. He took his time with you. He tasted you, licking a path down your ribs and your stomach, coming to the button of your pants. He didn’t take too long to pull off both them and your panties, revealing your glistening petals to the cool air. You groaned at the sensation and he marveled at just how beautiful you were. Thick fingers traced lazy circles into your inner thighs working their way to your core. He wasn’t ashamed as he looked at your folds, the way your clit was already swollen and eager from the bare minimum frotage. His thumbs swiped along the outer lips, pulling them apart, making way for his broad tongue as he licked a line up from your core to your clit, popping it into his mouth swiftly for a change of pace. You tasted delicious on his tongue, tart and sweet all at once. Greedily, he buried his face into your core, his tongue diving into your soft folds. The tight ring of your cunt was no match for him, the muscle pushed as deep into you as it could, the pad of his thumb taking up stroking your taut pearl in tandem with his thrusts. He listened to your moans as he worked you over, dragging more of your wetness out, preparing you for him. And when it sounded like you were just at your apex, he pulled away. “Oh god, Julian,” It was nearly scolding the way you said his name, but he wasn’t going to leave you wanting for long, deciding to instead unfasten his pants, eagerly ridding himself of his pants and underwear. He stood nude in front of you, taking his large, girthy dick into his hands, stroking it slowly at the debaucherous sight of you, of all people, spread out on his bed, all for him. “Please, I need you, I need you,” That could’ve nearly done him in there, just the way you were pleading for him. Telling him you needed him, and god did he need to be needed. The fact it was just in this way was icing on the cake. Not wasting anymore time, Julian’s hands gripped your hips, lining you up just the way he wanted you. He bent over and steadied himself, peppering your lips with kisses as he guided himself in. Already he could tell you were going to be a tight fit, there was going to be some discomfort, but not for long. It didn’t seem like you minded much, with how eagerly your heels dug into the strong muscle of his back, eager to sink him in. His swollen head pushed into you, sinking deeper with one slow push that had him groaning, his head tilting back as he savored the squeeze around his manhood. His free hand massaged lazily at your stomach as he sunk in. You let out the most tantalizing little grunts and moans, soft hisses as your body adjusted to take his massive size. “Soo big,” You whimpered. God if only you knew what you did to him with that tender little voice. He wanted to bury his cock in you forever and stay there until the day he died. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the last few inches in, steadily massaging you while holding himself back. It wasn’t until you tested the fit by rocking your hips back and forth that he finally allowed himself to take pure pleasure in your body. It wasn’t the

slow pace he’d initially wanted. No, as soon as he was in you, he realized how badly he needed this. For every smile and sweet word, he wanted to set a punishing pace. He wanted to completely fold you in half and hammer his way into your body and show just how badly he needed you. But, for the sake of your health, he set a steady pace. He leaned back to look at the place where your body met his and nearly came right there. “Fuck,” He cursed, staring at the lewd way your cunt was stretched out over his cock. “Sit up, just a bit, fuckin’ look at it,” He coaxed you into sitting up, his hand finding its way to the back of your neck again. Your eyes almost glazed over with how eagerly you looked at your coupling. Your plump, tantalizing lip was gnawed at between your pearly whites. Julian drew back his cock with a hiss, his head rolling back again, only to snap to attention, watching the show as he sunk back into your hot, silky insides. “You’re taking me so well, [Y/N]. You’re doing so good,” He grunted out praise after praise, his pace rocking steadily now, your wetness coating him and guiding him in with more ease. Finally, it seemed you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer, instead falling back to moan his name. He doubled over, catching himself again, bracing himself on either side of your head. His pace quickened, he could feel the way his balls slapped against your ass, damp from how wet you were. It made degenerate sounds, slapping skin against skin. It drove him up a wall, almost as much as your blissful expression. He burned the memory of you savoring his cock into the back of his mind, before hooking both of his hands under your knees. With his strength, Julian nearly folded you in half, angling you to where his cock would hit your deepest, most sensitive parts. When he found the place that made you sing loudest, he hammered into it. Not to be ignored, he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, freeing up a hand so that he could reach between the two of you and work diligently at your little bud. “Oh god, oh god, Jules, Julian, fuck, fuck, fuck! I-I’m gonna cum,” And he could feel it when it started, the way you arched your back, your hips taking a mind of their own, jerking up to meet his deep thrusts. Your walls clenched so tightly around him he could barely pull away, but he managed to keep his pace, drilling into you. “Fuckin’ cum around me, cum around me, [Y/N], just like that, just like that,” He grunted, thrusting so hard he was shaking the bed beneath you, the sound only adding to the symphony of sex. The rush of sticky fluids made him pound that much harder into you. Your crying, writhing form the perfect state for him to hammer at until he felt his own familiar band pulling tight, eventually snapping as pleasure overwhelmed him. He didn’t pull out as his cum filled your tight little body. He empty his balls as deep into you as he could, his pulsing manhood twitching with every stream of the load. He only realized as he began to come down from his high he’d came right against your cervix. He shuddered out another low groan, joining your soft panting in the air. “Fuck, Julian, ah, hah. I love you,” You were unabashed now, looking at him with your dazed look, as if he were a god and not some backwater trailer park boy. “I love you too, so much,” He hung over you, his sweaty forehead coming to rest against yours. He breathed with you, coming down from his high to finally ease out of you, ignoring the mess he made in favor of pulling you into his arms. The air slowly quieted as you both lay there, basking in bliss, warm and naked despite no blanket. It was hard to believe that he’d been uncertain of your feelings for him. Just an hour ago, neither of you had been aware of just how quickly things would go. But, there were no regrets. Only love and a sense of safety.

[solarwonux]

Illicit Affairs || Jeonghan 

lawyer!single father!jeonghan x laywer!f!reader x mentions of seungcheol x f!reader

w.c 9k (I WASN’T EXPECTING IT TO BE THIS LONG)

warnings: single father jeonghan, cheating, angst, cursing, smut, phone sex (kind off), Seungcheol is literally an asshole I’m sorry, fingering, slight oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex. (also I edited this in rush so I’m sorry for any mistakes)

note: Happy New Year, I decided to start this year off with a bang. Please enjoy I’m actually pretty proud of this one so let me know your thoughts. Also this is kind off a continuation of my other fic: In Another Life, so if you wish to know a little more about the relationship between Jeonghan and the reader be sure to check it out. If not enjoy :)

masterlist 

“Are you sure you don’t need a ride home?” 

Jeonghan came up beside you, rolling the small suitcase you had taken on your week long business trip beside you putting a gentle hand on top of your shoulder making you jump. “No it’s fine Seungcheol said he would pick me up.” You nodded grabbing the strap of your falling purse and placing it onto your shoulder again. “Bomi is waiting for you, so you should go home.” You smiled fishing your phone from your purse hoping to see the on my way text from your fiancé. Instead it sat empty with the picture of you and Seungcheol the day he proposed staring back at you.

“She’s staying at my mom’s. I won’t pick her up until morning.” Jeonghan quirked an eyebrow watching as you stared at your phone screen hopelessly. Your grip getting tighter and tighter each second that passes. “I can take you home, it's really no big deal.” He reassured and moved his hand away from your shoulder before stuffing it in the pocket of his long black coat. 

You ignored his offer unlocking your phone and clicking on the message app, revealing the thread of texts between you and Seungcheol. The last one he had sent before he ghosted you for the remainder of the week was that he loved you and that he would see you at the airport when you got back. That was on Wednesday, it was now Friday and he was nowhere to be found. With a deep sigh to keep yourself from growing frustrated you sent him a quick text asking him if he was on his way before locking up your phone again and throwing it into your purse. 

“I’m sure he’s stuck in traffic. I'll be fine, you should go home, you haven’t gotten any sleep because of the time differences.” You waved a hand dismissing all his offers before grabbing your suitcase handle and rolling it closer to your body. 

There was no doubt in your mind that something was wrong. That something had been seriously wrong for the past three months as Seungcheol started distancing himself from you more and more each passing day. You figured it was the stress of his new very taxing job as well as the wedding planning and the bi-monthly trips to the New York firm that Joshua had you and Jeonghan going too. You could only hope that it was just a small bump in the road. That’s everything would go back to normal now that you wouldn’t have to go on another one of these trips until February. 

“Last chance, take it or leave it I’ll even throw in a burger from that fast food place that you like.” Jeonghan winked, bumping your shoulder against his. “I know you’re hungry, you didn’t eat any of the airplane food.” His voice lowered with concern and your grip on your suitcase handle only got tighter.

He was right you were starving but you were looking forward to going to the 24-Hour diner by your and Seungcheol’s loft just like you had for the past three years whenever either one of you got back from a business trip. It had become some sort of tradition in your relationship, but now as you searched the crowd for your missing raven haired fiancé you weren’t sure if you even wanted the M&M pancakes the two of you always shared. Or the burger Jeonghan was offering because something was wrong and your gut was sending the warning flare signal all throughout your body. 

“Temping, but I’ll pass. Now go home before I call Joshua and beg him to let me switch partners again.” 

“You’ve been trying for five years darling, and look at where it’s gotten us.” He smirked, taking his hands out of his coat pocket and placing them on top of his suitcase handle. “But since its two in the morning and Joshua would murder us if you called him for such a trivial thing. I will leave, but I’ll stay close by just in case Seungcheol doesn’t show up.” 

You rolled your eyes before playfully shoving his shoulder causing him to stagger back dramatically, a scoff leaving his lips. “Yoon Jeonghan go home, I’m serious.” You crossed your arms in front of you as he raised his hands up in surrender. 

“Fine, but text me when you get home okay. I don’t like leaving you alone at this time at night.” 

“I’ll be fine, he’s just stuck in traffic.” You said. Jeonghan shook his head before turning around and waving you goodbye. His face full of concern as he started walking away, carefully dodging the small crowds of people that had gathered in reunion. You raised your hand and waved back until he disappeared out of the airport.

It was two in the morning, there couldn’t possibly be any traffic but it was the excuse you decided to go with because it was better than admitting the truth. Something was wrong and it terrified you knowing that you had an ideas as to what it was.

The second your apartment building came into view your stomach dropped. 

You had waited outside of the airport for thirty minutes. Texting Seungcheol repeatedly asking where he was. The last message he had sent to you on Wednesday haunted you as you read the words he had written over and over again whenever you sent him a new message.

I love you. 

The doubt slowly crept in as you shoveled the fallen snow around the concrete pavement with the toe of your boots. Did he still love you? 

For months, Seungcheol had been acting strange. His smile didn’t reach either side of his face, he didn’t laugh at your obscure little habits or antics. He didn’t look at you like you were the delicate flower amongst the sea of dead weeds. He was there with you, sharing the same roof but he wasn’t present in any sense of the word. Every time he came home he ignored you and went straight to shower or bed. He had started to pick fights with you more often. Before you left he had blown up on you in the middle of the night because you had left the bedroom window open. He had never once minded before because he knew you did it on purpose, so that when the two of you slept he would hold you closer than usual to keep you warm. 

Though instead of holding you close that night he had yelled at you and went to sleep on the couch. Leaving you alone with tears pooling in your eyes and in the cold. You had felt that exact way as you waited for your uber to arrive and now that you were standing in front of your apartment building, gripping your suitcase handle as you pathetically competed in a staring contest with the entrance. The gnawing in your stomach growing to the point where you felt nauseous.

You contemplated calling another uber and just have the driver keep you company as you settled your overflowing thoughts. Over thinking never got you anywhere you wanted. And right now your head was a pool of doubt consumed by all the scenarios you didn’t want. For your sake and his you hoped he had fallen asleep waiting for your plane to land because if any of the scenarios that were currently playing in your head ad you made your way into the building and towards the elevator; you knew you would never be able to recover it.

With a shaky finger you pressed the number four in the keypad, watching as the elevator doors closed, shutting you out from the outside world. In seconds when the same doors opened again, revealing the narrow hallway that led to your studio apartment, you’d finally know the truth. One you had been ignoring for months on end because you knew, no you hoped Seungcheol still loved you.

Maybe he still did. Maybe you were overreacting but you had this horrible habit at never trusting your gut when it was always right and something deep inside you was telling you that you were. That what you had perceived was happening was the truth and that now all you needed to do was rip it apart like a bandaid. Dwell in the pain for a while and then move on like it never happened. 

After all he had started to act like you didn’t exist anymore.

The elevator doors opened at an agonizing pace, the scene playing out almost too perfectly that it was nauseating. You didn’t even have to step out and walk a couple of steps to the right for you to see what was happening right in front of you. Seungcheol’s eyes bulged out of their sockets. His mouth falling agape before the doors could finish doing what they were meant to do and the anger inside of you built to the point you were sure fire was coming out of your ears.

You were right. 

In front of you stood Seungcheol with bags under his eyes, his hand encased with someone’s that wasn’t yours. She was pretty, prettier than you could ever be, but that wasn’t what had you fuming. It was the fact that she was here in your building, in your hallway. You wondered how many times she had been here before reliving this same scenario. You wondered how many times she sat on your couch pressed to his side? How many times had she laid in your bed underneath him? How many times she had used your bathroom along with your things after nights of utmost pleasure? Seungcheol was a good lover, you'd give him that much but he had always been a shitty liar so he had to have known that whatever fantasy world he was living in, would come to an unpleasant end.

“Excuse me.” You said gripping your suitcase handle until your knuckles turned white and walked past the lovely couple. You could feel the panic radiating out of Seungcheol’s pores and you tried to keep yourself from laughing the bitter laugh that was bubbling up in the back of your throat. The warning Jeonghan had given you three years ago when Soonyoung had first introduced you to Seungcheol hummed softly in the back of your mind as you approached your wretched apartment. 

“Be careful, he’s not someone that’s capable of love.” 

Your body had gone into autopilot the minute you stepped out of the elevator and entered the place you once called home. You didn’t notice the spent sheets lazily thrown in the overflowing laundry basket nor the messily knocked over wine bottles on the coffee table. Your main priority in your fevered state was to get as much as you could before Seungcheol came back with the excuses he came up with during the five minutes it took for the old elevator to reach the fourth floor. 

When the sound of the door shutting rang through the heavy air surrounding your old apartment you knew you had failed. You stopped dead in your tracks dropping the pile of clothes you had chaotically fished out of one of your dresser drawers and met Seungcheol’s unreadable expression. For some reason, even though you had a hole in your chest. You didn’t feel any sadness, just anger. Seungcheol’s indifference smugly painted across his face only made you boil inside. 

“What are you doing?” Seungcheol’s voice sounded richotteing of the plain walls and into your chest making the hole inside of you grow deeper. The two of you stood in the middle of the messy hallway. Clothes that didn’t belong you where all over the room in what seemed to be a hasty frenzy. It was like he had started to replace you already with someone who in his eyes was obviously better than in you every syllable of the word.

“That’s a stupid question Seungcheol.” You scoffed and leaned down to pick up the pile of clothes you had dropped. “I’m obviously not wanted here anymore so I’m leaving.” You rolled your eyes and walked past him bumping your shoulder against his, making him stagger back slightly. You reached the dining room table where you had sprawled open your suitcase and stuffed in the clothes in your arms before turning to face him. 

Your mind must have been playing tricks on you because you saw a small flash of fear dance around his irises before it was replaced with the same indifference you were met with before. “Don’t go, I can explain.” He closed the gap between the two of you. He raised his arms hesitating before putting his warm palms against your shoulders. The air in your lungs caught itself in the back of your throat when you felt the heaviness of his touch seep through the cotton of your winter coat. Now that it had been corrupted by the touch you had once burned brightly underneath, you wanted nothing more than to to peel it off as if it were your second skin. 

“Don’t touch me Seungcheol, I don’t want your excuses.” You spat out slapping his hands and walking past him. 

“She doesn’t mean anything to me please let’s just sit down and we can talk about it.” He voiced, the broken lint cracking through his poker face. He begged following you into the room. He cringed at his clothes hanging out from closed drawers, the unmade bed and the overpowering smell of roses that didn’t belong to you. 

You ignored him opening up another drawer grabbing everything that belonged to you and leaving behind everything that didn’t. “There’s nothing to talk about you cheated on me and probably have been for months now. The damage is done. End of story Seungcheol.”  You slammed the drawer shut and moved past him, he caught your arm forcing you to turn around at lightning speed. Water was now spilling down the corner of his eyes as he finally realized that the fantasy he had been living under was simply just a fantasy. That his reality was staring back at him with dull and broken eyes. 

It broke him.

You had hurt him in the same ways he had been hurting you. At least that’s what he told himself three months ago when you had left with Jeonghan to New York for work again. When he walked into the bar and met her three beers in. When he brought her home that night and all the other nights you were away. You were cheating too so why should he be the only to suffer if he could make you suffer the same he was. 

“Does it matter, you’ve been cheating on me longer than I have been on you.” He spat letting your arm go making you stagger. Your back hit the closet door as you stared at him in disbelief. You blinked rapidly making sure you had heard him right, a nervous laugh bubbling in the back of your throat. 

“I-I’m not and I have never cheated on you what the hell Seungcheol.” You clutched the few t-shirts you were holding against your chest, “Where is this coming from?” 

“Jeonghan, you’ve been seeing Jeonghan behind my back for months now.” He yelled making you flinch. He raised his arms before bringing them down and running his hands desperately through his jet black hair. “I’m not an idiot, I saw the texts where he told you that you couldn’t tell anyone your secret.” He sat down at the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tugged at his roots. The weight of his illicit affair finally weighed heavy on his shoulders. 

You threw the shirts you were holding in his direction, missing him completely, “You are anidiot Seungcheol, I’ve never once kissed or slept with Jeonghan before. He just got divorced, his wife left him with a four year old. It’s none of your business but the big secret we kept was him taking his daughter to work when Joshua was out of town because she was sick.” You yelled, the anger you had felt for him earlier spilling out of your ears. “God, why didn’t you just come and talk to me about it, why did you have to go and ruin everything?” 

Revenge was never sweet and he was getting a taste of his own medicine. 

Seungcheol had fucked up he knew it the second his lips met the women he had met at the bar. Yet, he had somehow convinced himself that he was right all along. Now as he heard the sincerity spill out of your perfect lips he realized how wrong he had been for three months on end. He had ruined a future so sweet it gave him toothache whenever he thought about it and nothing he could say or do would fix the damage he had done. 

“I never want to see you again.” You whispered, bringing your hand up to your chest as you slowly removed the diamond ring from your ring finger, the last thing keeping you connected to him. He had made you a promise one you never saw him fullfilling.

Almost as if on instinct, Seunghceol raised his tear stained face. The panic ran through his once soft features as you placed the ring he had given you on top of the wooden dresser. It was over, he had known it the morning after he had sinned.

He’d have to endure the consequences of his actions by himself because you were two feet out the door with almost all of your belongings including his heart.

“I think the coffee machine is broken, again.” Jeonghan spoke as he walked into your shared office with two styrofoam cups, “I got us hot chocolate instead.” He boasted proudly as he set the steaming cup on top of your desk.

The moon had been larger than usual tonight, so, as Jeonghan honorably offered himself to go get the two of you some coffee from the machine in the employees lounge. You had taken it upon yourself to give your brain a well deserved break after hours of looking over the cases Joshua had given you and Jeonghan before he left earlier. 

Joshua was quite possibly the best boss you could ever ask for. He gave out paid vacations to all his favorite employees, which was all of them. And gave some of the best advice known to men. But he was also sneaky and did possibly everything in his power to keep you and Joenghan at the office after hours and alone. You weren’t sure what kind of game he was playing nor had you cared at first but after Jeonghan’s nasty divorce. His game became even more obvious. You had called him out on it one afternoon when it was just the two of you in the employee lounge. With a knowing smirk he had refuted your claim. Though when he walked out with a jump in his step and whistling an unfamiliar tune you knew you had been right and that he wasn’t going to stop his scheming any time soon.

His wingman tendencies became more heightened when he had noticed your missing engagement ring three days ago. Joshua had cornered you in his office before closing that night causing you to embarrassingly break down in one of his lounge chairs in front of his desk. Since then he had given you and Jeonghan an unbearable amount of work and it made you feel terrible.

Jeonghan had a four year old that needed all his undivided attention. Everyday Jeonghan would rush to pick her up from school, sometimes leaving work unfinished when he realized he was running a few minutes late. Most of the time he brought her back to the office when his mother or sister were too busy with their own lives to look after her for a few hours. She would end her days falling asleep in her uncomfortable school uniform on the couch of yours and Jeonghan’s office. He then would carefully move her to the couch in Soonyoung’s office so your baseless bickering wouldn’t disturb her peaceful slumber. When you brought up your concern to your lovely boss he had simply brushed it off because apparently Jeonghan didn’t mind. Though the miniscule stress lines breaking through Jeonghan’s face and the light bags under his eyes indicated otherwise. 

“You’re thinking again, is it Seungcheol. I know something happened because you haven’t been wearing your ring lately...and you haven’t complained once about working overtime...” Jeonghan’s voice sounded causing you to plant your feet back onto Earth’s surface. “you can tell me if anything’s wrong. Joshua’s usually the one with top tier advice but I can try my hand at it. So go on what stupid fight did the two of you get into this time?” He finished leaning back in his desk chair, arms crossed in front of him as he eyed you closely. 

“You should go home, I can finish up here. Bomi needs her bed...you need your bed.” You sighed swirling the steam from your hot chocolate over your index finger. Jeonghan was the only one who didn’t know about Seungcheol’s affair. It wasn’t like many people knew just your parents, Joshua and Soonyoung since you were staying over at his place for the time being. But Jeonghan didn’t know and you didn’t want him to know. He wasn’t the biggest fan of your ex fiance and he had warned you numerous times, but you didn’t listen.

After everything you had gone through an I told you so from your best friend would be the unpleasant cherry on top.

“Stop changing the subject. He’s been calling you non stop for hours and you’ve ignored him. I don’t really care about what happened because I’m sure it’s nothing, but your ringtone is driving me crazy.” He joked dramatically, picking up his own cup of vending machine hot chocolate and brought it up to his lips. 

You placed your palm on top of your cup, trapping in the steam. The heat danced around your cold palm warming you up before you officially turned to face your nosey partner in the crime. “I left him.” You breathed out. Jeonghan’s eyes grew wide as saucers as he uncrossed his arms and slowly rolled himself and his chair around his desk and towards yours. “He had been seeing someone else for months and I caught them the day we came back from New York.” 

“I knew I should’ve taken you home that night.” He grumbled placing both his hands on either side of your chair turning you to face him. Your panicked expression met his angry eyea causing chills to run up your spine. “He had been acting like an asshole lately and I knew something was wrong. I just told myself not to get involved because I knew it would piss you off, but now I wish I did.” He took your hands in his and placed them on top of your lap. You could feel him shaking and it reminded you of the day Bomi’s mother had left the two of them. The anger he was feeling now you had felt it then too. 

“Jeonghan it’s okay, it’s my fault I should’ve listened to you when you said he wasn’t a good person then and I should’ve said something the minute I suspected something was wrong. I was just too delusional living in my own world and planning my wedding that I was afraid of being right.” 

He gripped your hands tightly nd shook his head. “Don’t ever say that, it’s not your fault, he hurt you. He choose to fuck someone else not once but for months right?” You nodded biting your bottom lip hard enough to almost draw blood as an attempt to keep yourself from spilling tears. You had cried enough nights over Seungcheol. He didn’t deserve your tears nor your heartbreak. 

“He thought I was cheating on him with you.” 

Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head before letting out a deep disappointing sigh. “Where are you staying, not with him right?” He laced your fingers with his and placed your hands on his lap. 

“With Soonyoung he lives the closest to my old place so I just ran to him.” 

“Soonyoung knew before me?” 

“And Joshua and my parents.” 

Jeonghan looked up towards the ceiling taking a deep breath. “How are your parents?”

“Dad wants to kill him, mom has been trying to calm him down the last few days before I move in with them for the time being.” 

“I knew I liked your dad for a reason. Might have to call him tomorrow so we can plan our crime.” Jeonghan smirked, trapping you and your chair between his legs. The last time the two of you had been this close was when he had cried in your arms on yours and Seungcheol’s couch, after he came home to find Bomi alone in her room with divorce papers on her dresser and all of his ex wife’s belongings gone. It had made your heart race then but you had blamed it on your anger. Now as you stared into his warm eyes with your heart against the base of your throat you thought that maybe you had been wrong then.

“And mom and I will hold the two of you back, if not we won’t be visiting you guys in jail.” 

“I won’t go to jail. I’m a hot shot lawyer, haven’t lost a case yet I think I can represent myself and your dad and win.” He winked. He had started to lean in closer. The sensation of thumbs running soothingly across the palm of your hands didn’t help your beating heart. 

“Maybe this is the case that will finally bring you back down to Earth.” You shoved him lightly as an effort to make space between the two of you. Your efforts were deemed as unsuccessful as he didn’t budge. 

You and Jeonghan silently stared at each other and you hoped he couldn’t hear the hitches in your breathing. Slowly, he leaned in and before you could process what was happening his lips were on yours catching you by surprise. He moved them slowly, warming you up until you finally caved in and kissed him back. He smiled letting go of your hands and placed them on top of your knees, trailing them up your thighs until they found purchase against your hips and brought you close. He stopped kissing you for a second, giving you the choice to stop but when you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close, kissing him feverishly, he responded with the same amount of heat you were giving him. 

Year’s ago at an old musty bar in New York, Jeonghan had confessed that he had once harbored deep feelings for you. It was also the day you found out he was engaged to Bomi’s mom and the day you choose to push your feelings for him aside and move on. Tonight, those dormant feelings returned, along with the fire that accompanied them. You were desperate and needy to act up on them and now that you could, you didn’t want to stop. The feeling of his long crooked fingers traveling up thighs and pushing the fabric of your cream colored sweater dress up with them, made you want him more.

“W-Why...did you wear tights today?” He groaned and whispered against your lips making you giggle. He rested his hands against your butt, giving it an experimental squeeze before guiding you onto his lap. 

“It’s winter, I don’t want to die of frostbite.”  You smiled down at him before pecking his lips repeatedly. Your body had gone untouched for months but it felt like it was burning brightly underneath the light of the moonlight.

“I can just keep you warm.” He winked one of his hands traveling to the front of your body. His finger teasingly playing with the hem of your black sheer tights, itching to make you feel loved and beautiful just like you deserved. 

You shook your head at his innuendo before leaning down to kiss him again. Just when your lips were about to connect with his, Seungcheol’s ringtone started ringing. Jeonghan groaned in annoyance. “I told you your ringtone was annoying me.” The arm balacinging you on his lap pulled you closer. He attached his lips on to your neck again, biting down on your earlobe, a tiny almost inaudible moan escaped your lips. He let go of the hem of your leggings, the band slightly ricochetting of your skin making you suck in a breath. He retreated his lips and smirked before leaning over your body and grabbing your ringing phone, Seungcheol’s contact name blinking on the screen of your home page.

“Answer him angel.” He said handing you your phone before pecking your lips lightly. 

“W-What.” You took your phone in your hands and stared down at Seungcheol’s smiling face. 

“You said he thought we were seeing each other behind his back. Why don’t we prove his theory sweetheart.” Jeonghan took your phone and pressed the answer button an evil glint glimmering behind his eyes, “this way I don’t have to commit murder.” 

“B-Baby I’m sorry for what I did and for what I said this morning p-please come home.” Seungcheol’s desperate voice came in through the speaker of your phone. Jeonghan sat back smugly holding on to you tightly as he urged you to speak. 

You swallowed thickly before opening your mouth, his mouth coming into contact with your cheek while he slowly raised your dress. “I-I’m not coming back Seungcheol, you fucked up.” Your arm around his neck loosened up. He brought your dress over head and threw it off to the side.

“I-I know, I-I know but I love you so much. I promise it won’t happen again just please come h-home.” Seungcheol’s voice breaks at the end making Jeonghan roll his eyes. There was not a doubt in your mind that Seungcheol was being as honest as he could be but he had broken your trust. He had chosen to sleep with someone in your shared home on your shared bed instead of sharing his falsely created suspicions with you.

“Cheol, I’m sorry,” Jeonghan’s hand trailed up your bare back and unhooked your bra. A small inaudible gasp left your mouth at the feeling of your freed your breasts, his mouth watering as his need to please grew. “I-I don’t trust you anymore.” He wrapped his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it slowly. Your phone fell from your hand and onto your laps. You arched your back, pulling his head closer, your fingers hastily finding the top button of his dress shirt. Seungcheol was long forgotten as you quickly unbuttoned Jeonghan’s shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. The smoothness of his heated skin, underneath your palms made you desperate to feel more of him against you. 

“I’ll do anything I just need you to come back, you’re my everything.” Seungcheol all but begged as Jeonghan released your nipple and grabbed your phone from where it had fallen. He placed it on our desk before standing up and sitting you on top of it. He leaned down running his tongue over the shell of your ear, giving your temple a slight kiss, “keep talking to him angel, let him know I’m here that he lost the best thing he could ever have.” He whispered before leaving kisses down your body and pushing your legs open. 

Seungcheol was rambling but you were so focused and in tune with how soft Jeonghan’s lips and hands felt against your body that you had forgotten about him.

Jeonghan kneeled down in front of you, sending you a wink before grabbing the crotch of your tights and ripping it apart, “Jeonghan what the fuck?” You yelled and lightly flicked his forehead making him laugh.

Seungcheol stopped his incoherent rambling “Jeonghan is there?” The venom laced in his voice was prominent which only made Jeonghan laugh making his presence obvious and known. They were friends once, had gone to school and law school together. Had even talked about opening up their own law firm together after graduation. But Seungcheol had betrayed Jeonghan in ways you didn’t know as neither of them liked to talk about it. They had only tolerated each other because of back when Seungcheol was still your fiance and Jeonghan was only your coworker. Obviously that line had been crossed tonight the second you opened your mouth and Jeonghan’s hands found yours. 

“Umm, I mean Joshua left us a lot of paperwork so we--” 

“I’m going to make love to her and treat her the way she deserves to be treated.” Jeonghan spoke, cutting you off. He stood up, his hands planted in between your legs. He sent you a knowing look before moving your panties to the side. His index finger moved up your slit, a sound of approval left his mouth when he felt how wet you were. “She’s so wet, I bet if I wanted I could just slip right in and she’d be so tight around me.” 

“Jeonghan, mmh...stop.” You parted your legs further, going against your own words. There was just something about having Seungcheol on the other side of the line as someone else had their hands all over your body that turned you on even more. Maybe it was some sick form of revenge, but you were ready to succumb to Jeonghan completely if he continued to touch in the way you had been craving for months now. The vibrator he had jokingly gotten for you as your secret santa gift three years ago, had not been enough. You needed more. 

“I don’t think you want me to angel,” he inserted his finger inside of you. A choked moan left your parted lips as you arched your back. “It’s a shame you fucked up Seungcheol, I bet she looks so pretty when she cums.” 

“I was right. I knew you were cheating on me with Jeonghan. You’re a fucking li-” 

“Actually this is the first time we’ve ever stepped over our boundaries. She was telling you the truth...you’re just an idiot.” Jeonghan moved his finger inside of you slowly. He felt around your velvet walls teasingly before inserting a second finger, stretching you out a little further. Opening you up for him. “Isn’t that right angel?” He raised an eyebrow before picking up the pace of his fingers. You gripped his arms, digging your nails into his skin as you felt the slight pleasurable pain course throughout your body. 

“Y-Yes, mmh...fuck Jeonghan, yes.” You bucked your hips against the palm of his hand. Your clit lightly brushes up against ot making your body jolt, as his pace and your pleasure increased.

“I-Is this why you r-refuse to fight for us, because you want to be a slut and fuck Jeonghan without feeling guilty.” Seungcheol scoffed and Jeonghan rolled his eyes. The coil in the pit of your stomach tightened up and you found yourself getting lost in the delicious pleasure Jeonghan was giving you rather than Seungcheol’s words. The moment you walked out on him he stopped mattering and you couldn’t be happier. Especially if the outcome was with Jeonghan and Bomi. 

“Are you close baby? Are you going to cum for me so Seungcheol hears how good I make you feel? Jeonghan rolled his palm against your hardened nipple, his thumb circle around your clit adding to the pleasure his fingers were giving you.

“Fuck, y-yes...I’m going to come for you Jeonghan.” Your fingers threatened to break the surface of his skin and with one final thrust of his fingers you gonat came around then moaning out his name. He helped you ride out your orgasm mumbling praises against the crown of your head. Before taking out his glistening fingers making you whine. He raised fhem up to his lips and wrapped his tongue around them sensually, sucking them clean. 

You were panting, your chest heaving against his as you tried to catch your breath again. “Choi Seungcheol are you still there?” Jeonghan asked, making you roll your eyes, you buried your head in his chest, running your down the smoothness of your back. “She looks like a fucked out work of art right now and I’m not even done with her yet.”

“Whatever, I hope you enjoy my sloppy seconds, she’s incapable of being loved anyway.” Seungcheol’s words tugged at your heartstrings and you could feel the anger radiating from Jeonghan's heated body. 

“Fuck you Seungcheol.” 

Jeonghan carefully laid you down on the couch of your shared office, peppering kisses down your body. After Seungcheol hung up, an overwhelming and heavy silence surrounded the two of you.

“Do you regret it?” He buried his head into your neck. His hands that had devilishly devoured your body five minutes ago, hoovered over your lower back. His voice small, trapped in the back of his throat as he melted in your arms. 

“Leaving him?” You questioned and moved your fingers down the smoothness of his back. “I don’t, I don’t regret leaving him.”  

“No that,” He raised his head. His gaze burning intensely in yours, “me touching you do you...do you regret it?” Jeonghan finally touched you again, his cold touch sent shivers up your spine. He smiled tugging a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb running over your earlobe gently before resting them against your cheek.

“No, I don’t regret it whatsoever.” 

“Good because I don’t want to stop touching you.” He closed the tiny gap between the two of you and kissed you gently. He ran his hands down the side of your body before hooking his thumbs underneath your torn tights. You giggled against his lips remembering how he had impatiently torn them. He leaned back against heels and helped you remove them before tossing them elsewhere. You leaned up against your elbows, watching as he lustfully moved his hands up your legs slowly. 

“I meant what I said, I’m going to treat you like the angel you are.” He whispered and took off your black laced panties throwing them behind him. He held your legs open before kneeling in between them “You’re beautiful.” He whispered leaving kisses up your thighs, stopping in front of your pussy. “I’m going to devour you.” He mumbled before running his tongue up your slit. You moaned arching your back, your nipples getting harder against the cool air of your office. 

“Jeonghan, w-wait.” You mumbled getting lost in the way his tongue moved against you, “no one’s ever done this before.” You confessed, threading your fingers with his dark locks pulling him closer. 

He looked up at you, wrapping his arms around your thigh and brought you closer to his mouth. He moaned, wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. His gaze found yours, the way you were looking at him, overcome by pleasure, made his heart sore.

He sucked, humming when your hips started bucking against his mouth indicating that your orgasm was nearing. If he could he would’ve stayed in between your legs for hours, especially after finding out that no one had ever given in to you the way he currently was, but his cock was straining against his slacks begging to be inside of you, so, he pulled away. A frustrated sigh running past your lips. 

“Why’d you stop?” You questioned sitting up on your elbows before teasingly running your palm down his chest. Your eyes caught sight of his bulge making your pussy clench over nothing. “Do you want to stop?” You sat up and played with his belt buckle, slowly unlooping it as you waited for his answer.

“I’d be crazy if I did.” He watched as you popped open the button of his slacks. Without a warning your hand found its way inside his boxers and wrapped around his length. Jeonghan’s body grew frigid as your hand slowly moved against him, his breath caught itself at the back of his throat, his body growing hot with pleasure. “Angel, I want to...fuck, I want to play a little longer but I need to be inside of you.” 

“Do you have a condom?” You kissed his neck, sucking hard enough to leave your mark, smirking against his skin knowing how the office will react tomorrow morning. The many questions he would be bombarded with.

“Fuck, I don’t angel. We can stop here, it's okay,” he threw his head back as your lips moved down his chest and your warm hand moved against him. 

“No. I trust you. I don’t want to stop.” You wrapped your lips around his nipple causing him to moan.Your hand stopped moving against him and tugged on his pants, signaling for him to take them off. 

“Are you sure?” He stood up, kicking his dress shoes off before pushing his slacks and boxers down, leaving him naked in all his glory in front of you. He looked beautiful, the milky white light of the moon filtering through your giant window made him look like had been sculpted by the heaven’s. His cock sat against his stomach, the precum slowly leaking out and your mouth watered, but just like him you needed to finally feel him stretch you out. So you pushed the thought to the side and laid down opening your legs further, inviting him. 

“Jeonghan, make love to me please. Make me scream out your name and forget about any other asshole that has used me in the past. I want to be yours only.” You said moved your hands up your body slowly before they found your breasts. You pinched your nipples gently moaning out his name in the process. 

Jeonghan had never seen or heard anything as beautiful as to what he was witnessing right now. He hoped that this wouldn’t be a one time thing, that he could finally love you the way he had been itching to do so. Otherwise working alongside you would be a lot more awkward now that the two of you had crossed into dangerous territory. So, he kneeled in front of you again, leaning his naked body against yours, feeling your hard nipples rub against his naked chest as he leaned down and kissed you slowly. The passion spewing out of your connected lips. This was better than what he had ever imagined. 

“You’re beautiful, I’m going to make you mine tonight and forever.” He mumbled before pulling away and snaking a hand down your connected bodies. He wrapped his fingers around his cock, spreading the precum around his angry head before looking at you. Slowly, he ran his head up your slit and stopped searching your face.

“God, you take forever. Just fuck me, Jeonghan please.” You smiled nodding your head pushing his hair away from his forehead. 

“I’m just trying to take everything in, I’ve pictured this moment many times over the years and I need to make sure it's real.” He winked and slowly pushed himself in. Your mouth fell agape, his moans sounded beautiful as he kept pushing inside of you before bottoming out. “T-Tell me when I can move.” He leaned down capturing your lips in another slow and sensual kiss. His kisses were otherworldly and addicting.

“F-Fuck Jeonghan move please.” Your hands fell down his back as you pushed him closer. The pain of him stretching you out hadn’t subsided entirely but you were desperate with need. 

“As you wish my angel.” He pecked your lips one last time before kissing your check and burying his face in the crock of your neck. His body was overwhelmed as he slowly started moving his hips against yours. The way he had fit so snuggly inside of you was driving him crazy and he hoped he would last a lot longer than what his body was telling him. Though with the way you had started to deliciously clench around him, he was positive you were riding the same boat as him. There would be other opportunities where he could shower you with ten times more love and take it as slow as he wanted. But right now was not the time, years of pent up sexual frustration between the two of you was oozing out of your pores and threatening to spill. 

“I-I don’t want to cum yet but I don’t think I can hold off anymore.” You whispered, moving your hand down his back and further pushing his hips into yours. His thrusts had started out slow, but the more he lost himself in your body the sloppier they got. Your pants and moans bounced off the four walls of your shared office, thankfully no one was around to hear how desperate the two of you were for each other. 

“Me too.” He grunted and raised his body. He gripped your waist tightly and started thrusting even harder into you. “W-Where do you want me to cum?” He threw his head back getting lost in sensation of your pussy clenching around him. Your second orgasm threatened to spill over the harder he fucked you into the leather sofa. 

“I-Inside me. I want you to fill be up...mmmh, f-fuck please.” You arched your back digging your nails into his hips as your orgasm broke. Your body convulsed, hips cantaning up as he continued to piston his cock into you. Your name breathly spilling out of his lips as his own orgasm overtook his body. His warm milky seed covering your walls, making you moan out his name like an incantation. 

The two of you rode out your orgasms. The fear of being separated seeping into your pores as he finally let his body go slump over yours. His face contorting in pleasure while your pussy continued to milk out of everything he provided you. Your chests raised slowly against each other, while reality finally seeped in. You had just fucked the man of your dreams in your office and silently you wondered why you had wasted your time hating him for years. While he silently loved you from afar, until you were too late.

“So much for finishing our paperwork.” Jeonghan broke the silence making you laugh. His head was against your sweaty chest, his thumb painting invisible pictures against your hips. 

“You’ve just given me the best orgasm, possibly ever, and all you can think about is paperwork.” You joked, wrapping your leg around his waist. His cock twitching inside of you. 

“I’m thinking about other things. I just wanted to state the obvious before I have you screaming my name again.” 

“Mhm, I see.” You kissed his forehead and ran your index finger over his tired face. You knew he hadn’t been sleeping for days and as much as you wanted him to stay buried inside of you until morning. Another reality check crushed your fantasies. He needed to take him and his daughter, who was soundly sleeping in the office down the hall, home. “I’d love to Jeonghan, bu-”

“Do you regret it, p-please tell me you don’t” His pleading eyes found yours and you could’ve sworn your heart had flipped over how cute he looked right now. 

“Let me finish talking first before you start jumping in to conclusions.” You kissed his forehead lightly, your index finger stopped moving against his face and you wrapped your arm around his neck pulling him closer then what he had already been. “I don’t regret anything but you need to take Bomi home and you need to sleep.” 

“Then come home with me. I promise all we will do is sleep, but I want to wake up next to you and I want to make for lost time. Plus Bomi would be so excited when she wakes up and finds out you’re taking her to school with me.” He beamed and you felt the tears start to well up in the corner of your eyes. Jeonghan’s daughter was quite possibly the sweetest little thing in the entire world and each time you remembered what her mother had done to her and the man who was basking in the afterglow of your desperate love making. You would be hit with an overwhelming sense of anger. 

“Jeonghan I want too, but we can’t be moving too fast. I want to be with you but I also need time to recover from what Seungcheol did to me, especially if Bomi is involved. I want to be there for you and her, but I can’t, knowing I’m not strong enough yet.” You sighed, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at baby. When they had started to fall Jeonghan leaned in and kissed every single one of them away. 

“Okay, the ball is in your court angel, I’ll go at your pace.” He grinned, you could tell he was slightly disappointed but the fact that he had given you the upper hand made your heart swell up with love. 

“Thank you Jeonghan.” 

“It’s no problem, Seungcheol was wrong, you’re more than capable of being loved and I will spend every waking moment from here on out proving to you how wrong he had been and if I have to wait for you to get over what that asshole did to you. Then I will. Even if it means waiting another lifetime for you angel. I would wait for that one and the next one until you’re ready to let me love you the way you should be loved.”

[tiffdawg]

On Fire For You | A Din Djarin x Reader Oneshot

Gif: @bestintheparsec

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 2.5k

Rated: T  | Warnings: tropes galore, including but not limited to there’s only one bed, huddling for warmth, first kisses, and, of course, found family. And there’s one (1) mild reference to something spicy.

A/N: This is part of my follower giveaway! The lovely @aerolanya requested Din + “oh no there’s only one bed” and I’m only too happy to deliver on one of my favorite tropes. I hope you all enjoy!

Read on AO3 | My Masterlist

… . …

On Fire For You

It was a rare treat for you and Din to see Grogu for such an extended period of time, and you were excited to take him to an ancient temple at the Jedi Luke Skywalker’s instruction even if finding the site proved difficult but being stranded on a frozen planet in the middle of a blizzard was not how you envisioned the trip. Even with the upgraded console on Din’s new ship, it was impossible to navigate through to snowstorm raging on Polus. He’d been forced to set the ship down on the empty ice plains until it passed. Even now as you sat in the cockpit cradling Grogu, you saw nothing, but white snow and ice whipped by furious winds outside the transparisteel viewport. 

You held the small child tighter as his ears drooped at a shrieking gust of wind. You didn’t like the sound of that either. When your partner re-entered the main cabin, you quickly stood from the co-captain’s chair and faced him. “Is everything okay?” 

He nodded once as he brushed a layer of snow of his pauldrons. “Ship’s in good condition. We’ll be ready to fly as soon as the storm passes.” You nodded quietly as you processed the situation. And then he added, “as long as we’re not buried under ice in the morning.”

You didn’t like the sound of that either. “What are the chances of that happening?”

He gestured to the viewport you’d been staring out of as if to say pretty damn good, but at your worried expression, he made an effort to console you. “We’ll be fine for the night. Don’t worry.” 

You heaved a small sigh of relief as you pulled your shawl tighter around your body, making sure Grogu was securely tucked underneath the thick Bantha wool as well. If Din thought things were fine, then you’d be fine. Surely there was nothing to worry about.

… . …

As your frozen breath swirled around you with each exhale, you wondered why you ever listened to a word out of that stubborn Mandalorian’s mouth.

Bundled in your heaviest parka and wrapped in a blanket, you and Grogu watched as Din pulled apart the ship’s internal wiring and tried to put it back together. Inside the metal hull, the temperature was dropping by the minute and after nearly an hour of work, he’d had no luck powering up the ship. 

“Dank farrik.” Grumbling, Din tossed aside his pilex driver. “I can’t get the heating system back online. Hell, I can’t get anything back online. Not in these temps.”

“You’re telling me it’s colder than space?” you asked, desperately trying to hide your panic

“No,” he sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I– I don’t know this ship.” His frustration was evident in the way he moved as he stood and looked around helplessly. You felt for him. He always tried his best to hide his struggles from you, but you knew losing the Razor Crest was like losing his home. Despite the cold, your heart warmed toward him. Of course, that was nothing new.

“It’s okay,” you said, even as your teeth chattered. You reached toward him, intent on offering some sense of comfort, but recoiled as soon as your hand touched his cuirass. The metal was so cold it stung. “Kriff! You’re freezing, Din.” 

“The armor is insulated. It’s only cold on the outside. I’m fine,” he assured you. Still, you eyed him skeptically. He never put much thought into his own good. More often than not, that was your job. “I wore enough layers,” he said pointedly. 

“I’m practically wearing everything I own.”

“I can tell.” You heard that hint of a smile in his voice, the one that stirred the butterflies in your stomach, but you only narrowed your eyes at him. He chuckled softly and offered you the last blanket. “According to my starmap, there’s a small settlement not far from here. If we can make it there, we might find somewhere warm to pass the storm.”

“Might?” you whispered so only Grogu heard you. As he blinked up at you, you could tell that he shared your apprehension. “Don’t worry, little one,” you said as you trailed a gentle finger down the slope of his nose. “Your father would do anything to protect you.”

… . …

Either Polus was known for its hospitality or you looked as pitiful as you felt, but by some stroke of luck, the three of you found someone willing to offer you safe lodging in the village. As he assured Din that his family would be safe and warm for the night, your cheeks burned so warm you were certain the snowflakes melted as soon as they touched your skin. Then the generous old man dashed away through the snowdrifts back to the warmth of his home and family, leaving you alone in the old cabin. Relief washed over you as soon as you stepped inside and out of the biting wind. 

“Ewoks live better than this,” you mumbled as you scowled at the sad, dark dwelling. It was well insulated but little more than a room and lacked something as basic as a refresher. The only one was in the village’s main hall which would require you to dash through the snow in the middle of the night should you wake up at some point. You would not be doing that.  You knew it was better than being out in the snow or freezing to death on the ship, but it was austere even for your nomadic lifestyle. 

“I’ve seen worse,” Din offered. 

“Oh, I’m sure you have.” You rolled your eyes behind his back, but as he craned his neck to look back at you, you thought he might’ve sensed the gesture. After a year of traveling together, the two of you could practically predict each other’s next move.

While Din lit a small fire in the hearth in the center of the room, you offered a small meal to Grogu from the meager supplies you’d been able to carry with you. Unsurprisingly, he took the tin of food eagerly and sat himself near the flames to warm up. With the roaring fire, you finally felt your limbs start to thaw. Still, you kept all but your wet outer layers on as you arranged your bedroll. Which was when you noticed a small problem.

“There’s only one bunk,” you stated dumbly. You looked around the room as if a second would appear magically.

“You take it,” Din said as he reclined against the wall across from the fire. He folded his arms across his chest as if to fall asleep like he did in his captain’s chair. 

“You won’t be comfortable like that all night,” you protested weakly.

“I’ve had worse,” he echoed. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve better, Din.” You crouched next to him, trying to catch his eyes behind the visor. For all you knew, he was already asleep.

“You and the kid are all that matter,” he said softly after a moment. Your chest hollowed as the air escaped your lungs at his words. You felt the same sentiment deep in your bones. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Too late for that,” you said with a rueful little smile. You worried about the man constantly, but you couldn’t help it. Not when he carried your heart with him, and you needed him to keep it safe. Needed him safe. Even if he didn’t need to know that. You brushed the few remaining snowflakes off him even as they melted quickly in the warming room. “You shouldn’t sleep in wet clothes,” you offered pointlessly. “You’ll catch your death, and we can’t have that.”

Expecting him to gently chastise you for your concern, you didn’t wait for his response. Instead, you scooped up the baby, who’s eyes were blinking shut even as he still clutched the last of his meal in his tiny, clawed hand, and crawled into bed. 

As you arranged the blankets neatly around the two of you, you noticed Din’s stare still trained on you. You held his gaze from across the room. It was hardly the first time you’d caught him watching you, but as the flickering firelight reflected off the obsidian visor, you desperately wished you could see his true expression. 

“Goodnight, Din,” you whispered after a long moment.

“Goodnight, cyare,” he rasped quietly.

With that single word of Mando’a fluttering between your ribs, you settled in for the night.

… . ...

Perhaps an hour or two later you woke with a chill. As you all slept, the room’s only source of warmth had dwindled to smoldering embers and even as you curled up into a ball and cuddled the baby closer to your chest, it was not nearly enough to stave off the cold. 

“Din?” you called, your voice wavering as you shivered. He woke with a bit of a start before his visor turned to you. “We’re freezing,” you embellished. Maybe he’d take pity on you if he thought the kid was cold too.

Din nodded once, almost dutifully. Limbs still heavy with sleep, he moved slowly as he stood and stoked the fire, but he gave up after a minute and ignited his flamethrower with a flick of his wrist. The hot blue spark was more than enough to rekindle it and you felt the warmth flood the room immediately. 

You expected him to then return to his slumped position against the wall. Instead, he stared at you with his helmet tilted curiously. You watched with bated breath as he crossed the small room while pulling off a single leather glove. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight of his tanned skin. Since that fateful night on Moff Gideon’s ship, you hadn’t seen him missing so much as a single pauldron. Din hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your face toward him, and ran the pad of his thumb across your lips. The simple action sent a shock through your system and every thought vanished from your head. All accept one. But you steadfastly resisted the urge to kiss his warm skin. 

“Take off your clothes,” he said softly. Your jaw dropped at the command. And then, if possible, even further as he started to remove his Beskar.  

“W– What?” you asked without bothering to hide your surprise. 

“You need body heat,” he answered evenly. That… that made much more sense. That was a logical, rational explanation. Although it was the opposite of what you’d been thinking. You silently scolded yourself as you stripped down to your modest underclothes. You did your best to advert your eyes while Din did the same before climbing into bed behind you. 

“Relax,” he said as he settled next to you. 

You did as he asked. Or rather, tried your best as you laid facing away from him. As you did, you heard the faint whir of his helmet’s locking mechanism disengaging. A muscular arm reached past you to set it on the floor. 

Understandably, all of the movement woke the baby. In the dim firelight, Grogu’s eyes widened as he smiled up at Din. He cooed happily as he reached for his father’s face. 

“Hey, kid.” Din greeted him as if it was the first time, he’d seen him in a while. And like this, it was. He laughed, deep and rich and real, and you cherished the sound. 

A smile pulled at your lips at the sweet exchange. But as much as you longed to see him, you kept your focus on the baby and let yourself see Din through his eyes.

“Alright, back to sleep.” For once, Grogu was tired enough to actually listen to his father. He curled up against your chest again and Din carefully tucked the blankets around the both of you. His soft snoring resumed almost instantly.

He shifted for a bit as if trying to find a comfortable position. You were acutely aware of his every move and every accidental brush of his skin against yours. At one sharp inhale, he spoke again.

“Are you okay?” Not quite trusting your voice, you nodded. Because the truth was, you were more than okay. There was no place you’d rather be than in bed with him. “Still cold?”

“A little.” 

Before you could tell him that way okay, he surprised you by wrapping a strong arm around your middle and pulling you closer until you laid with your back to his bare chest. Instantly, you felt the heat radiating off his body. The man was a furnace. 

“Any better?”

As your eyes fell shut, the words slipped out with a breath before you could stop them. “Oh my stars, you feel so good, Din.” 

His hold on you tightened. Then, in an unexpected but wholly welcomed move, his hand slid up your body to cup your cheek and turn your face toward his. You felt only a ghost of a breath on your skin before warm, chapped lips pressed against your cold ones. Scintillas of heat spread throughout your body.    

“Look at me, cyare,” he whispered as you parted.

Hesitating only for a second, you opened your eyes to find perfect, plush lips smiling back at you. Letting your eyes roam, you admired his soft brown eyes glinting in the firelight and the mess of tousled locks you wanted to run your fingers through. So you did as you pulled him back to you.

“I can’t wait to have you alone,” Din murmured against your mouth. Chills erupted across your skin that had nothing to do with the cold. But his kiss only lasted a moment before he backed away with a look of uncertainty. “Do you want that?”

You smiled at his bashfulness. It was completely unfounded, but endlessly endearing and so incredibly like him. “Yes,” you promised as you sealed your lips to his once more. Both of you fell fast asleep with soft smiles 

… . …

The storm passed overnight and the next morning the villagers set you on the right path to the ancient temple. Din got the ship up and flying in no time and the three of you were off. 

When you arrived Grogu seemed to instinctively know just what he had to do. Whatever he was meant to find in there, it was meant for him alone. With a gentle hand on his shoulder, just above the mudhorn signet that signified their bond, you held Din back as the baby toddled into the icy cave alone. You sensed his hesitation, but he stayed with you. He heaved a sigh under your touch.

“Have I ever told you that you’re a good father?” you asked as you slipped your hand into his. The gesture was new, but as he twined his fingers with yours, it felt like something the two of you had done a thousand times before. 

“All the time,” he answered.

“And do you believe me yet?”

Din was quiet for a long time before he turned to you. “You’re a good mother to him, cyare.”

Somehow, as you beamed at him, you knew your smile was returned. Finally, you could imagine it perfectly.

... . ...

Thank you for reading! 

💕Tiff

... . ...

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[lemonjoonah]

Blood Bounty - Part 3 (M) - Finale

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader, Taehyung x Reader, ft. Seokjin x Namjoon Word Count: 15.5K Rating: M Genre: Historical fantasy AU, Vampire AU, Thriller, Drama, Smut Warnings (CONTAINS SPOILERS): Dub-con (consent is freely given but the context is dubious), non-con vampire feeding, non-con kiss, unprotected sex, light bondage, oral sex (f. rec.), cum eating, pain during intercourse (don’t be like the OC here in the beginning and try to conceal it, you should tell your partner if something hurts), somewhat antiquated thoughts on virginity, virgin reader (it’s a flashback and there’s a small amount of blood...), death of major and minor characters, drugging (with vampire blood), murder, violence, blood, gore, sexism, blood slavery, kidnapping, captivity, forced marriage, manipulation, gaslighting, once again it’s some pretty dark shit, consider yourself warned.     

| Series Masterlist |

Summary: He’s taken everything from you, your blood, your memories, your life, and after months spent as Taehyung’s own personal feast, you eagerly take your chance to flee. Unfortunately your escape doesn’t go as well as you had hoped, as you are soon caught by another blood thirsty beast. The vampire Yoongi claims to know you, and that he wishes to return you home. But when you can only remember the pain caused by his kind, you find it difficult to trust him, since he too could just be another monster waiting to feed.

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who stuck with me through this mini-series. I truly hope you enjoy the end of this tale (and the hints to another separate series in the works 😉).

...

Your new stead is surprisingly responsive to your commands, possibly desiring to get as far away from the predators as you. Taking you down the road to the kingdom at a startling pace, causing several branches to whip painfully in your direction. When a stinging blow inevitably lands on your brow, enough to draw a spot of blood, you pull back on the speed of your mount. You are not so far now that you worry about making it back before nightfall.   

The route home becomes more populated the closer you get. For the first time in years you are among people like you again. Those who see you as just another person passing by, not a temping entree, nor a traveller to rob. Some even nod to you as they cross your path, you respond in kind, but keep your face hidden beneath the hood of your cloak.

Your first few paces inside the town comes as quite a shock. The notable gathering spots are even more vacant than they were during your nighttime strolls. With the stalls of the market bare, and so many businesses closed,  the only well occupied space appears to be the mounted boards on the end of every other street. You stop at one littered with official orders for curfews, new regulations, and missing souls. The most notable of all to you is the obituary detailing your brothers passing. 

You swallow back your grief, and proceed to examine the document claiming that he had died of a devastating injury and no more. It seems your parents will still not admit to any weakness that might carry in the family's blood. But with each stamped flyer, there’s been an addition made, one that was obviously not approved by the crown. 

‘The crown prince is dead, and our princess lost. If we let them rule any longer we will be next!’

You are stunned by the note, fearing how bad the circumstances must have become in your absence. Backing away from the board you prod your stead onward and in the direction of the public stables. Hoping to find the mount it’s own new home, while you return to yours.

“Three pence for a night,” The master grunts, looking up from his work as you dismount near the entrance to the paddock. 

“I have no coin, but-”

“No coin, no stall. Don’t waste my time and move along.” He interrupts before returning to shovelling the pungent manure.

You wrinkle your nose at the odour and persist in your efforts. “I was going to offer for you to take ownership of him instead. I have no use for him now.”

“Keep him? Tell me, how did you come to own this stead? Is it truly yours? ” He leers down, placing you beneath his scrutinous glare. “People don’t just give up a worthy horse. How can I know that there is not someone out there who will come looking for it and will blame me for their loss?”

“I can assure you the last owner will not come to retrieve him. Now do you want the horse or should I go find another who is willing to take my offer? Maybe that nice family there.” You point to a couple making their way into a nearby building. 

Your bluff calls his, leading the man to grimace and huff, “Fine. I will take it, now be gone with you.”

With the horse now tended to, you start to walk away, passing the entrance to the tavern, the door the mentioned pair just walked into. It’s hard not to take note of its current occupancy, for it is packed with people, all shouting and trying to have their say. With the entryway cracked open an inch you are able to catch several snippets of the debate.

“We can’t wait any longer. They are changing the narrative as we speak! Now stating they hold out hope for the princess’s return.”

“And what if she does?” A familiar man stands in argument. “Would you have us send the kingdom into turmoil when hope still exists? I would not be as I stand before you today without the surgeon she sent to us. A blacksmith cannot work without a hand. My wife and I would have been out on the street before long.” 

“Can you not see what they are doing for what it is?” The first speaks again to counter his point. “It’s a convenient ploy! With an heir lost, only the promise of another, with more favour than them will quell our anger. If she was still alive they would have found her by now.” He pauses to pat the smith on the shoulder. “I mourn her loss too my good friend, but we can’t wait for a small sliver of hope when we continue to live the way we do. Taxed within an inch of our livelihoods, while the list of missing continues to grow and those who are in charge hide behind their walls, keeping secrets that affect us all. If she returns we can offer her a good standing among us. But their rule must end.”

You edge closer and closer to the door trying to get a better view of the meeting in progress, when a throat clears and grunts, “Run along lad...” Nearly jumping from the fright you turn around to find the stable master having come up from behind. Bowing your head you comply, thankful that he had not realized the gravity of what you overheard. 

What had truly happened in the time you were gone? This isn’t just contempt but a full blown revolution building. Your people think you dead, and understandably so, but if they see that you are alive and well, maybe a better path can be found than one that will surely end in blood.

When considering your options you know there will be no way in through the front gates, your parents have always kept them heavily guarded, and no one will believe you are the child of the king and queen dressed as you are now. Rather than stir up trouble, you proceed to your fastest route in, the trap door hidden on the perimeter. 

In your absence it appears to have remained unused. The roots of the hedge have grown over, needing to be tugged out of place until the hinges and wood are freed from their grasp. You drop down into the passage, closing the hatch behind. With no light, nor lantern you are left to navigate the abandoned hall in the dark. The palm of your hand brushes against the damp stone wall, crossing cobwebs and critters on it’s trek to lead you to the portrait door. You try your best not to think of the time spent in this place, and the company you are now left without, but the sound of your steps resonates around you. Tricking your ear into thinking it a whisper of the past, as if his promises still remain locked away down here, echoing off the bedrock for you to claim.  

You are grateful when you finally reach the castle's interior, although for the time of day even the palace appears deserted and cold, you slip about the halls feeling like a stranger in your own home. Hoping to return to your old bedroom before you find anyone else, so you can at least reclaim another part of what you once were. But when you find the door and step inside someone is already there, crying at the foot of your bed. It’s too late to back away for they look up, just as startled as you. It’s your former lady’s maid who steps back from shock at your appearance, followed by a baffled stare when she catches a glimpse of your face.

“My word...” She gasps as tears continue to roll down her cheeks, “I never thought I’d see you again. He brought you back, I can’t believe he brought you back.” She runs forward wrapping her arms around you, a blubbering speech follows. “I’m so sorry, your b-brother... he’s gone. After everything that happened, everything you did, he’s still gone. An-and the threats to the crown, ever since his death everyone has been in an uproar. I haven’t dared to leave the grounds out of fear that someone will know I work here.” “It’ll be okay. We will figure this out.” You attempt to calm the maid you can only remember fragments of. She must have thought you had run off with Yoongi that night, but now is not the time to correct her with actual horrors you endured. 

“Having you back now will surely pull the king and queen from their stupor. They have been pleading and praying for your return.” She looks down at your clothes with apprehension. “Court is in session right now. They are locked away until a matter is settled, but we can ready you to meet with them once they are finished.” You nod prompting her to seek out your wardrobe. “I’ve been keeping them well looked after in case of your return.” She pulls out a dark dress, a sign of mourning for your brother. “I believe this will still fit. You don’t look to have changed much.” 

As she laces you in you can feel the garment tug on your ribs and chest. Maybe a little too small, but it will have to do for the time being. Once finished she escorts you to the dining room, while you continue to marvel at the empty halls. “Where is everyone?”

“Much has changed... your parents' fears have grown in the time you’ve been gone. They feel they can trust far fewer than they have before, and so, many of the staff were let go. If anyone ever even asked about you they too were sent away.” She stops at the set of double doors and urges you inside. “If you remain here and I will go and have the King and Queen informed as soon as the proceedings let out.” 

“Wait, don’t leave...” You were going to ask her more questions to address the gaps in your past, hoping you might stir more than a few moments you have of her and your life here, but she has already closed the door and departed. 

You are left in the dining hall, waiting only with the excessive spread of your parents forthcoming dinner. The feel of the room compared to the passage below is unfamiliar, unlike the dark narrow tunnel this place is void of memory and the feelings that come with it. You pray that such a disconnect will not last long. 

Mounted up on the back wall you find your family’s portrait. Staring at it at the faces and details, you remain so until slivers of the painting's creation surfaces in your mind. You hated that gown, for its rigid seams and heavy fabric took quite a toll as you stood there for hours behind your brother. He was seated due to his condition but you were told to stand and remain still, while the prince takes the forefront of the picture.

It had been made not long before you disappeared from the kingdom. You can recall dwelling on how little blood you had left, while the painter took your likeness. Your parents look so happy in the portrait, thinking their son to be healing and ready to take on the throne, while you spent the whole time daydreaming of Yoongi’s return.

Your anger spikes as you think of him now, it is beyond doubt that he has noticed your absence. You will have to warn your parents and their guard of his possible travel to the kingdom to claim you for his clan. The secret passage will have to be sealed, taking with it your hopes to ever leave again.

Grabbing one of the many decanters and with a shaking hand pour yourself a goblet of wine. Seeking to soothe your trepidation of meeting your parents, you sip on the bitter drink while picking at the food of the central spread.

The hours pass while you take your fill, until finally, when the sky has long been dark your mother hurries first. Looking exactly the same as she once did in your memories, frantic and worried. “Thank heavens you are back. You are safe, we are safe.” She looks down at you, her face unchanged with time, and the skin of the arms which clutch you... you stare at them for a moment, perfect and untouched, but you remember... you recall deep gashes and blood, so much blood pouring down your fingers. Disturbed by the thought you shake yourself from your horrific vision and smile back at her. Expecting her to launch into a flurry of questions but to your surprise, both her and your father pose no queries. 

“We knew he would find you again,” your mother cries with happiness. “We knew he would bring you back. The people, they will be so thrilled to hear of your return. The threats, the violence it will all be over soon.”

“You knew him? You asked him to find me?” The facts of her statement confuse you greatly, had they been privy to information your maid had not? For if she thought you were with him... what did your parents believe?

“My dear, are you well? Of course we did.” Your gaze once again focuses on the flesh of her forearms, as if entranced to the spot, while she brushes at your unkempt hair. Upon following your sight she pulls at the shawl of her dress in an awkward fashion, covering the length of her exposed skin. “Think not of what happened at our parting. All is well.” A painted grin plasters your mother's face. “We made all the changes necessary, you my darling, are to be next in line, not your children, but you. Your father had to work so hard to gain the approval of his lords, they thought it pointless to change the law in your absence, but here you are! Once your consort holds up the rest of his bargain your father will sign and you will be heir to the throne.”

This is all too much, you trying to keep hold of all the information while more is poured on to you. Unable to focus on anything other than their knowledge of Yoongi. Did they really meet him and make the request of him to bring you home? But to what bargain are they referring? “He did but I fear his clan has plans to remove me once again. We have to guard the old passage too, it’s already been nightfall for some time and I fear he won’t be far behind.”

“My poor girl... are you sure you are not ill?” Your mother’s head tilts in confusion. “He is already here, he has been for some time... you fled from his estate when he was just about to send for your return.”

You step away from your parents as fear tightens and grips your chest. “No, you can not mean. Not him, please not him-”

But your greatest nightmare returns to join you, with Taehyung waltzing through the double doors as if your parents castle is his own. “Princess, so good of you to join us. You shouldn’t have run off like that, you had your parents worried.” He approaches, inciting you to back into a wall in an attempt to keep your distance. Your parents don’t react with shock or fear at his sudden advancement on you, surely it is just a dream or vision then? One you are bound to wake up from soon. “But I knew you couldn’t run from me... only towards. Isn’t that right my sweet princess?” Though when his breath comes to find your ear you know him to be real. “I would have gone to find you myself, and take you back sooner, but your parents have been a rather large thorn in my side. Refusing to let me go until I-”

“And what of the other part of our bargain?” Your father calls from behind Taehyung, who grimaces and rolls his eyes at the interruption.

“They will be here shortly. My kin are acting on my behalf tonight, for I could wait no longer when I heard news of her arrival.”

“You have short changed us before,” the king admonishes. “I will not sign until I am certain the problem is dealt with.”

Taehyung turns from you entirely, the accusation leading him to snap back in anger. “That was your own doing, not mine, human. I gave you what you asked and you chose to squander it.” 

With Taehyung now focused on your father, you are ready to run, to seek anything you might use against him, but your mother catches you before you can take two steps. 

Shouting and jeering can be heard from just outside of the room, along with the heavy footfalls of several men, far too loud for what should be expected of the staff and guard. The procession outside bursts into the dinning hall. Your father’s lip curls ever so slightly as several men are pushed to their knees in front of him, muzzled and chained by the vampiric clan that restrains them. 

Taehyung introduces them with a proud and theatrical air, as he takes a seat at the head of the table.  “As you requested my liege, the leaders of the now failed rebellion.” 

You recognize many of them from the tavern earlier, even the blacksmith whose hand Yoongi saved long ago. Your father after taking stock, waves them away, ordering them to be held out of his sight, until a public execution can be arranged. 

You open your mouth to argue and condemn such brutal tactics when you are pushed down in the chair beside the monstrous vampire by your own mother. “You will sit still, be quiet, and do your duty for the family.” Despite her insistence your nails claw at her hold trying to free yourself from his side. As blood breaches her skin, so too does the memory of your first meeting with the vampire lord.

...

-Five years ago-

You look through the streets for hours hoping to catch even a glimpse or a whisper of Yoongi. Asking several people who pass you by, but no one knows of his whereabouts, nor has seen the distinguished surgeon in months. 

With the sun ready to rise, you retire from town for the night. Stripping from the simple dress, you toss it to the side and return to bed for the hour you have left to sleep. When forced awake by duty, your day ultimately passes with you a hollow shell. Barely able to keep your eyes open from lack of rest, with a gnawing disappointment taking root in your stomach, distracting you from much else. You tell your maid of your plans to venture out again to find him, but she looks concerned by the prospect. 

“You can hardly stand! What if, as a result of your current state, you cannot find him tonight? Your brother needs this and if you should fail... maybe we should tell the king and queen and let them put out a search for him?” 

“No, I must do this on my own. He would not want them to be aware of his kind.” You go to take the plain gown but your maid grabs it first. 

“I understand that you feel you must go. But please take an hour or two to sleep before you journey out. You look dead on your feet.” She does not relent, prodding and scolding until you are between the covers of your bed. “I will wake you once the castle is quiet enough for you to leave without being spotted.”

Nodding in agreement you submit to the coma of slumber rather quickly while she sits in the seat across from your bed. You wake hours later not by the hand of your staff, but from the hammering of rain pelting at your window.

You rise and call out, confused as to why she did not wake you earlier, but no answer responds. Lighting the candle on your bedside you find the chair empty of both her and the dress. You jump from your bed, in only your dressing gown and slippers reach for the door. When she bursts through it first, wearing the dress you intended to wear on the street. 

“Where were you? Why didn’t you-” 

“Princess, I found him!” Your lady’s maid exclaims happily, despite being absolutely drenched from the weather outside. “I went in your place so you could have more time to rest, and I found your friend, or I should say he found me.”

“You found him?” You breathe a sigh of relief, your brother is now safe and your plans with Yoongi can come to fruition. “Where is he now?”

“He’s with the king and queen.”

“My parents?”

“He wished to see them, mentioned something about desiring their permission. He’s already healed your brother, your mother and father couldn’t believe it.”  She grabs hold of your hand and pulls you from the room, not caring that you don only your bed attire. “Come! They are waiting for you.”

Still half asleep and only semi-coherent you allow yourself to be ushered along to your father’s den. There he sits behind a desk quill pen in hand, your mother hanging over his shoulder, and settled across from them both is... someone who is not your vampire, someone who is not Yoongi. 

The stranger smiles, showing off his sharp teeth as he gets up from his seat to deliver a sweeping bow. “Lord Kim Taehyung, at your service princess.”

You take a step back upon hearing the name that Yoongi warned you of so many times. “W-why are you here?” With concern immediately drifting to your lost vampire, for if his enemy has found you what could have befallen him.

Your mother scolds your response, “This man has offered his assistance, to aid in your brother's care, you will show him your respect.”

“It’s no matter,” Taehyung shakes his head at your mother. “Though I must ask, why do you look so scared princess? Your maid was looking for one of my kind, were you not seeking my help?”

“Is this true?” Your mother interjects, glaring at you. “You knew of people like him, those who could help your brother and you told us nothing?”

“I was looking for another,” you attempt to explain. “One who had been helping us in the past without your knowledge, he forbade me from revealing his kind to you.” 

“What did this other tell you of me?” The lord smiles. “I should like to set my story straight, because you, princess, looked ready to flee the moment you heard my name.”

“What is it that you want?” You ask again. If he refuses to answer your question why should you obey his own. “I thought your kind did not wish to reveal their existence to humans.”

“When the situation is as important as this, exceptions can be made.” The vampire justifies, a crooked grin refusing to leave his mouth. “I am only here to offer my services to your family.”

“We already have the services of another. He was doing so for years before you came here, he will help my brother should he need it in the future.”

“Then where is he now?” Taehyung asks the dreaded question which stabs at your heart.

“He will be back...” You retort, hoping it to be the honest truth. “We do not require your help.” 

Your father silences you with the stern call of your name and the hammer of his fist on his desk, before he too jumps into the argument. “I will overlook the concealment of your past acquaintances, along with the fact that you gave your brother treatment without our knowledge and consent. But I will not have you demean this man who just saved his life.”

“He is not a man!” You shout back at your king and father. “He is a monster. I have been told of his misdeeds, of his ethics. We can not trust him-”

“We have no choice! Without an heir the whole kingdom will become a place of ruin, an unclear line of descent will lead to chaos.”

“Then we wait. We wait for the one I can trust. He will be back soon, I know it.” Certain at least in this instance you know better than your parents, you plead for them both to listen.

“This is not a discussion.” Your father clarifies while the vampire takes out a bag, pulling from it two large corked bottles filled with a fluid far thicker than wine. “We called you here merely to inform you that we have accepted his services.” 

“This should be enough to keep him healthy for a long span of human life. It will heal most ailments, and injuries, and when enough is consumed will even slow the course of ageing.” You watch as the vampire's attention falls on your mother during his explanation, his lip curls even further when her eyes brighten in interest over the properties of the cure. 

You go to her, grabbing her arms so that she will focus on you alone, trying to convince her of the vampire's true nature. “This is a trick it must be. You can’t accept this, he will bring only ruin.”

“All that remains is the payment.” The Lord Taehyung adds, ignoring your plight.

Your gaze snaps back to him, when you hear of his charge. “What payment? What did you ask of them?”

“The cost for such a bounty of blood requires an equal sacrifice on your family's part.” The vampire beams with delight. “The blood needed for his life, in exchange for the blood of yours.” 

Your stomach drops when you see your father dip his head in confirmation. They already knew the cost and still they bartered you off without much thought. Your hands continue to grip your mother’s arm. “Please... please listen to me. It doesn’t have to be like this. There’s another way, there has to be.”

“There is no other way.” She responds, her tone cold enough to match her words. “It is time you stop living in your dreams dear girl, those books you cling to, those maps you draw, they will bring us nothing in the end. You have scorned numerous suitors in the past few months alone, leaving your father and I at wits’ end trying to secure a noble future for you. If you will not have that duty, you will take this. Better to have your hands stained with blood than ink if it will at least save our prince.” 

As she starts to push you towards your new fate, your fingers dig into the soft flesh of her arm, desperate to try and keep hold of your past life. Taehyung takes you by the waist and pulls you towards him leaving long lacerations down your mother’s skin as you continue to sob and beg for her to stop this. The thumb of your captor crosses your lips, bringing with it a metallic taste to your tongue. There’s a hushed order whispered in your ear to be quiet and complacent, and you do just that. Relaxing into Taehyung's arms while he carries you out and into a waiting carriage in the dark and drenched courtyard. 

Once out from the castle walls his slick smile falls. He may have taken your ability to speak, but not your tears will to flow. Pulling out a kerchief, he cleans your hands of your mother's blood. After removing every spot he lifts the fabric to his nose, and winces at the smell. “It is still amazing to me that one like yourself could be born of such soiled stock.” He then tosses the cloth out the window of the carriage. “That’s better.” His hand lifts up to the stream that continues down your cheeks. “Do not weep my princess. They may not see the same value in you that I do, but I promise we will prove it to them soon.”    

Angered by his declaration, you look away to the door, not wanting to give Yoongi’s adversary the satisfaction of your gaze. You knew you always weighed less in your parents mind. For you were second in their hearts even before your brother was conceived, second to the mere hope of a son. Swaying their love even a fraction in your favour was and is an impossible feat, a battle you could never win. 

“I know you wished to leave them, my kin intercepted a letter addressed to a royal who was willing to abscond with a vampire.” You look back at him with eager eyes. A letter? Yoongi must have sent word and this lord stopped it from reaching you. “I see that I have your attention now do I?” Taehyung scoffs and sits back in the carriage clearly enjoying your regard. “I knew of a woman much like you before I became what I am. I once travelled the land with a troupe. Entertaining both the nobles and the masses, while dressed in simple white garments, with only a tapestry as a backdrop, and the floor as our stage. It was invigorating, the life that came from holding the eye of the courts, and one lady... one princess in particular.”

Taehyung pauses to look back at your castle before continuing his tale. You can do nothing but sit there and listen, his blood and previous demands continuing to hold you in his custody. 

“She too was not content with the possible suitors before her, they could not offer her the multitude of lives she wished to live, but through narratives and plays I fulfilled that need. We could become whatever she or I wished ourselves to be. I was sure to see her as often as I could, but when her parents learned of our tryst, my group was banished, and she, to the bed of a neighbouring prince.” The vampire sighs as the story takes a darker turn. “I promised I would return to her when I could offer her a better home, but my cast and I, we ran afoul of a beast one night. When another caught the scent of our tragedy and found only me hanging by a thread, he took pity and made me one of them. I was so fearful to return to her at first, it took me several years to work up the courage and restraint before I could send her a letter begging to call on her again.” 

Now engrossed in the tale and the comparison of his story to yours. You stop an attempt to fight his will, too curious of the outcome.

“She agreed to meet, stealing away from the castle at night to find me at a nearby inn. It was my intent to flee with her that evening, to give her not only all the lives she had desired, but an endless supply of existence. What I did not expect was for her to deny my proposal. In the time I had gone she bore the prince a child, and no longer desired to part with her new role. I was not willing to accept her answer... lost in the heat of my anger and hunger for her, I took the princess with me. Draining her of life, I added her blood to mine.”

You stiffen in your seat wondering if this too will be your end, recalling a cautionary tale your mother used to tell you. The story of a noble lady, who was bled dry by the parasitic and sinful world outside. You thought back then it was her way to scare you into not leaving the protection of the castle walls, never did you consider it to be real, nor that she would be the one to give you to the monster of the fable.

“The smell and taste, I have not had anything quite like her since... until this night, when I caught wind of your own scent upon your maid's dress. I was already on my way to see you, but she made it so much easier, for she spoke on my behalf to gain my entrance. Such a sweet girl, and so very much in love with your brother isn’t she? A shame that she will likely feel the same pain as I once did, a love that crosses classes only to end in death.” 

Seething with rage at his confession, you wish to fight back and escape from his carriage but your own body will still not comply. You knew it, you knew he never intended to save your brother, he only wanted a bargain that would play in his favour. There is still a catch that remains unseen by you and your family, one that will result in the prince’s demise.

“They’ve hitched their kingdom to a dying horse, keeping it alive by selling off their only hope.” His finger follows the path of a tear down your jaw and falling to your collar. “I can promise you I will have far more roles and lives for you to play, more than you ever would have had with them. And you, you who have so much to give in return.” He opens his mouth, his breathing heavy as he leans towards your throat. “It's been so long since I’ve had someone of your calibre... I plan to savour you for far longer than the last.” Pushing you down, until you lie on the seat of the carriage, his teeth latch on, piercing the skin of your neck.     

...

You drop your mother’s arms, leaning back upon remembering the part she had to play in giving you away. “You forced me into his custody? You are the reason I was made to endure his torture.” 

“We had no choice. Your brother, he was dying.”

“And where is he now?” You shout back at them, all decorum vanished from the room. “You were given the cure, so why is my brother still dead?”

With that Taehyung smiles bringing light to the answer. “It would seem the temptation was too great for their own vanity. Even your lovely parting gift to her, erased by my remedy.”

The marks that should be on your mother's arms from your own assault, the ageing that should have become apparent since your last moment with them, none of it is there. All wiped away by the blood that would have given your brother a longer span of life. “You-you used it didn’t you... I should have known. It’s always been about appearances with you. Playing the strong hand to keep both me and your people in line. And when you ran out... you asked for more didn’t you?”

“He said he would keep our prince alive!” Your mother replies shaking from the accusation, but not denying it.

“I told you that what I gave you would be enough. It is not my fault that you chose to waste it.” Taehyung counters with a wicked grin, pleased by their faults and presumptions. “They let your brother die, not I.” 

“Then why return now? Why come if you already received what you wanted out of the deal?” You question fearing his answer, for what more could he want.

“I promised I would one day make them see the value in you.” Taehyung explains. “And there is always another bargain to be made.”

“With your brother dead and you gone we needed an heir.” Your father sets out his quill and ink on the table along with a rolled document he’s been clinging to. “It is as we feared what might happen. Our rivals at court have been stoking the fires of our people, without any official descendant they grow discontent and worried about the security of the country's future, we need you back.”

“Though you still belong to me as per the first agreement,” Taehyung interjects. “So you will return, the law will be changed, and you will become the next in line instead of any child you might have produced. With me by your side, living as husband and wife, the future rulers of this kingdom.

“I won’t allow this.” You shake your head aghast by the thought of such a deal. “First you give him me, and now your people?”

“Those people are currently rallied against us, they would see the end of us if they could. You witnessed the proof.” The king gestures to the floor where the captured were held just a moment ago. “We need assistance in controlling them.” 

“Because you’ve given them nothing to stand behind! Instead your first instinct is to feed them to a beast. Why do you still trust this monster? He will double cross you, my brother, your son is already dead, don’t let him take any more!”

There’s a knock on the door with the return of Taehyung’s vampire kin having stowed away the prisoners. He bids them to enter, while your father looks on somewhat ruffled by the impermanence of the lord’s comfort in his own home. “My part of the deal has already been given, they cannot back out now. Unless they would like those rebels to return to their people?” 

The king shakes his head. Dipping the feathered pen he signs the parchment, and hands it off to the vampire lord. 

“Thank you for your cooperation my liege...” Taehyung bows his head as he takes the paper, passing it off to one of his clan, before returning his unwanted attention to you again. “Your parents will live out the remainder of their lives as king and queen. As long as I can assure that their people will not revolt while they live. The throne will pass to us, and your people to mine.” He tilts up your chin, his thumb crossing over the small scratch on your forehead from your travels. Dipping his finger in your goblet of wine he touches the cut again. The familiar itch of healing skin crosses the surface of your brow. Your stomach turns with the knowledge of what you unintentionally consumed. “It’s a shame for them though...They won’t live long enough to see the benefits of my work here.” With the brush of his hand he gives the order to his clan, “Kill them.”

Your parents both stand in alarm, attempting to reason with the monster before you. “No, you swore-” 

“That I would keep you safe from your people, not that you are protected from myself or my kind.” He addresses his fellow vampires once again, “If you insist on feeding on them do not do it here. I find their smell distasteful and I would rather not lose my appetite.” 

His progenies take hold of your parents, dragging them away. They scream for their guards, but when no one comes to their rescue they call for you next. Pleading with you so that you might speak up on their behalf, with all dignity lost while they come to face their own mortality. You remain silent, any words frozen inside out of fear and hate. Your last duty to them would be what they always asked of you, to be quiet and still, until their screaming comes to an abrupt halt as they meet their end.

Now alone Taehyung rises from his chair and lifts you up onto the dining table, locking you in with his arms on either side. “I told you I could give you so much more than them, didn’t I promise you that? Do you remember?”

“I never said I wanted it from you.” Your furry has reached a new level, overwhelmed with contempt towards Taehyung, your parents, and yourself for not remembering sooner. “You believe their deaths will give you the kingdom? You forget that you had them sign it off to me. I will never consent to marrying you, and we both know your blood will not force me into such a binding contract. It's why you had to make deals with my parents is it not? Compulsion will not work when it comes to such bonds in ink, and you have nothing left to play in order to sway me.”

“Such a smart girl,” Taehyung coos, while brushing the side of your face. “However, it is not I who has forgotten but you, for I have already won that battle too. Here...” He takes a swig of the wine, and firmly grasps the back of your neck. Pushing more of the drink between your lips with his, Taehyung forces you to choke it back and drown in your own past. “Let me help you remember, my princess... my bride...” 

...

- 4 years ago -

You open your eyes, to be greeted by unfamiliar surroundings. A soft bed beneath you, lying between warmed sheets with a handsome yet concerned looking man sitting at your side. 

“Thank heavens you’re awake. You took quite a fall.”

You lift a hand to your head trying to dull a sharp ache in your temple. The man leans in closer without hesitation, an action which surely indicates a close tie with you, but you have no memory of him. His hands are cool yet you welcome them on the side of your face, for they diminish the pain. “I don’t remember-”

“It’s okay my princess. I'm glad you are saved from the trauma of reliving that event.” He comforts you with a boxy smile, that doesn’t quite reach the sadness of his eyes.

“No, not just that, I mean I don’t remember... I don’t remember you, where I am, nor why I am here.” You strain to recall your most recent past, everything seems so long ago. There are glimpses and fragments of moments and people which you manage to pull forth, your parents and their rule, your brother and his suffering, your castle and it’s cold walls that once surrounded you. The loneliness of your past brings a tear to your eye for it is all you can recall. Everything about this man before you seems to have vanished from your mind. 

“No, no, no, don’t cry.” His expression falls, as his hand shifts to wipe beneath your eyes, he swallows his shaking breath in clear distress over your loss. “I promised that I would look after you, that I would treat you well. Your parents, what will I tell them? They will rightfully blame me for letting you get hurt like this.”

The fear and sadness strewn across his handsome face is more than you can bear. You reach out a hand to his to comfort him back. “Could you remind me of your name sir?”

“Taehyung, and please don’t be so formal. There’s no need with me.”

“Then our relationship to each other...”

He takes your hand, tracing your fingers with his, before planting a kiss on your fourth digit. “We have been promised to one another. Your parents agreed to let you leave your own kingdom to be with me.”  

“Oh god, I’m so sorry... I don’t remember, I don’t remember anything. I can’t-”

“It’s okay my princess. It’s not your fault, but mine. You were hurt under my care. I’ll help you to rebuild what we have. We’ll start from the beginning, if we have to. I just can’t endure the thought of losing you entirely. Please just tell me what you need, whatever I can do, it will be done. I will help you to fall for me over and over, if it means I can continue to be with you.”

...

Taehyung spends the nights alongside you tending to your every desire, reciting poetry and plays to keep you entertained while you remain on bed rest for your injury. You feel bound by his kindness, and so guilty for not being able to recall your own past together.

During the day he is forced away from your side. He has a demanding role filled with travel and responsibilities, your only hope is that when he deems you well enough, you will spend that time together too. That you will be able fulfill this building desire within, to go out and journey for his role together.  

But the weeks pass with no change in your situation.

Until one night when it all becomes too much to conceal. When left by his caretakers to bathe, you dissolve into sorrow over the fact that your loss of memory is holding you back. Your wedding to him was to be days from now, but he has called it off until you can recover what you lost. Your wracking sobs echo through the empty room as you commiserate alone. Questioning what you could possibly do to dispel this suffering. 

You did not expect the sound to summon Taehyung, who comes bursting in without thought to your current state of dress. “Princess I-I...” He stops in his tracks and turns on his heel, shielding his eyes from your nude form. “Forgive me, I was not made aware that you were bathing.” 

You press yourself to the side of the tub. Shy at first but when you find him more so, you beckon him over, just as he is about to reach for the door. “No wait, don’t leave. If you go I fear I will only feel more guilt over our situation.” 

“Guilt? To what shame are you referring? Have I not made you comfortable here? Do you not have everything you need?” Taehyung abides by your call, joining you beside the tub, and swallowing as he glimpses you in the water.

“I do, and that is the issue. I remember nothing other than your care and kindness. You have given me everything you can, and I have nothing to grant you in return.”

“That’s not true-”

You press a damp finger to his lips, urging him to let you finish. “Despite not having a memory of our past, there is this need inside me... it’s difficult to express, but it calls out for someone like you. I do not wish to continue this cautionary stance, waiting and hoping for something that might not return. I do not want to hold us back. I think we should still marry, for I cannot see my life in any other way.”

Taehyung gives you a small smile along with a kiss to your hand which still lingers near his mouth. While his own reaches into the tub, his fingers twirling in the water just above your leg. “There is still much you don’t know about me.”

“Then I will learn it as it comes. Please, I long to move past this. I cannot and will not remain in this present, with you restraining yourself because of me. I truly believe that moving forward with the original plan is the best course of action.” 

“If that is what you desire,” He the tips of his fingers submerge further until they draw against your thigh. “I will resume the plans between you and I.”

...

The ceremony is modest, with only you and Taehyung reciting your vows under the night sky. After signing a document to confirm your ties, he whisks you off to the bedroom to consummate the new promise between you. 

The strength of the man before you comes as quite a shock as he rips the laces of your gown in his eager hunt to find the flesh beneath, until your best dress soon lays in tatters on the floor. His hunger for you appears to reach a new level, with his mouth nipping and devouring every inch he has exposed. Your situation has held you both back for so long, but at least now you will both get to revel in the path forward together. 

Once bare he flips you on to your stomach and disrobes himself. His taut legs come to straddle your hips, while his hands run up your back and down your arms. Taking your wrists he pins them over top of your head. “Just a precaution my princess,” He chuckles your ear as his leather belt wraps around. Tightening them together before the strap loops the headboard and is once again threaded through the buckle, wittingly securing you to the bed. “For if I am worried over the possibility of you fleeing, I might lose myself, and consume too much of you.”

“I have no plans to run.” You muse, giggling at his passion.“But I will concede to your bondage if it satisfies you.” 

“I was hoping you would agree.”  He teases his index along your slit, drenching your sensitive skin, and preparing you for his swollen cock. You raise your hips eagerly towards him and he takes the hint. Laying down over top of you he guides himself in with one hand while the other loops your waist. 

You gasp from the stretch before gritting your teeth trying to hide the brief moment of pain. Taehyung swears as his forehead comes to rest on your shoulder, his breath shaking as much as yours while he inhales deeply. A growl echoes in his throat which he promptly clears. “Princess, am I... am I your first?” There’s a hint of surprise in his voice, but you can not understand why that would be so.

“If I was promised to you... I can not see why I would have laid with another.” You answer somewhat hurt by the notion that he thinks you would have been unfaithful in the past. Your memories might be limited, but you can not believe that would be the kind of person you are, to be unfaithful to one so kind would make you a monster.

“Yes, of course.” He sighs, “I just, I had not...” He empties his throat again. Hugging you tightly as he pushes his cock in further. “My dear princess, so good to trust me with such a gift.”

You exhale with a confirmation. “I am all yours.” 

With Taehyung resting deep inside he pauses for another moment. His fingers trapped between you and the bed shift down to your mound where they press and cause you to buck back onto him. “Forget the pain for now...” He whispers in your ear while the deep circles he rubs shift you from discomfort to pleasure. Your twitching responses beguile him as you clench down on his shaft. The growl in his voice returns and grows deeper, he thrusts along with you. A need inside your start to build, your breathing stutters while he continues on. “...And come for me.”  Your nerves reach their peak at his words, holding you in place until the tension inside you finally releases and the warm waves run from head to toe. 

As you ride out your climax Taehyung pushes forward with his own. His cock continues to swell, demanding more of you, until he comes to his end and collapses twitching with content. With a groan he wraps his arms around you and nuzzles your back, while you remain trapped beneath him.

You tug on his belt wanting to touch him and hold him as he does to you. But even once he has come himself, he does not appear to be fully parted from his lustful needs. He shifts down so that his face can be found between your thighs. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you inquire for him. “Taehyung, please-”

“Don’t fret my princess, I just- I just want to- there was some blood drawn in my haste to have you, I would like to kiss it better.” He chuckles before his tongue comes to find your folds. The beastly sounds from him become far greater than before as he laps at the spot. Your hesitation is cast aside as you soon delve into pleasure once again. 

His fingers clamp down on your legs as he feeds from your cunt with an even stronger resolve. “I must- I must have more.” He begs of you.        

“I am yours to take.” You respond, eager to indulge more from his affectionate appetite.

But as soon as your permission is granted an unimaginable pain pierces the skin and muscle of your thigh. His mouth latches onto the source of such misery, and draws on the wound taking deep drafts. “Taehyung?” You cry out in confusion, pulling the bonds he left you in. 

Your lord and husband suspends the act. Rising up to release you from the headboard, he takes your restraints in his hand. Flipping you back over and pinning you back down beneath him. You find your groom smiling while his mouth drips with blood. He chuckles lightly at your horror, taking in your fear. “Did you have a change of heart my princess? I’m sorry to have brought such a swift end to our happy scene, but tomorrow we may start over... once I’ve had my fill.”

...

After the first Taehyung proceeds to push upon you several moments wrought in passion and pain. The concealment of his identity to become your love, and of course the times when he chose purely to torture you as your captor.   

You come to understand that your past with Taehyung is a series of tales, with him portraying the villain, or the hero. Going from captor, to suitor, to husband, only to break you by becoming your captor once again. He’s crippled you countless times, in so many different ways, choosing whichever act suits him in the moment, gorging himself off your emotional defeat the same way he feeds your blood, in the most painful way possible. 

“A small sample of our time together, but you see princess, you are already bound to me in matrimony. I have what I need for my clan. My followers will have access to any house, any dwelling on our kingdom’s land once I give them my consent to enter.”

“Y-you have no right to do that!” You stutter, trying to push down the past to focus on the present. 

“Oh but I do as your husband, as the new king I now have partial claim. My men will be able to feed within the safety of your peoples homes. Hunting them in their beds will be far easier than being restricted to the streets.”

“They are not cattle for you to feed upon!”

“How is that any different than your family's rule?” Taehyung scoffs, looking to the ornate room around you both. “Your parents in their vanity and greed bleed them dry, to the point where they were begging for a change, even if it was the rule of a young man who had barely stepped into adulthood. They will be grateful for the passing of the king and queen, and for the new rule. Remembering the vampires who will now stalk them while they sleep only as a passing nightmare.” 

“That does not make what you are doing any better.” You argue, though you know it to be pointless. 

“Not in your eyes, but my people will at least benefit from the sacrifice of your own. They trust me to do right by them. Can yours say the same about you? Will you bear the pain of your suffering and theirs? All that’s left is for us to choose which story we should play next. Would you like to forget it all again? To have me return to the role of doting lover and husband? Or would you prefer to recall that which has brought you pain? Your parents, your brother, and myself, knowing that soon my people will feast on yours.” 

To remember would be the only chance you have in finding a weakness to him, any attempt to remove him from his position will require your knowledge of what happened in the past and what is happening in the present. Who knows what story he would otherwise weave next, but he will no doubt pull the wool over your eyes if you let him. 

“I will give you until the end of this night to choose, if you don’t I will do so for you. But I am so very ready to return to our routine. These past few weeks have been a torment without you to entertain and fulfil me.” His finger traces an x on your neck, marking the spot he intends to bite. “I will never again allow us to be parted for so long.”  The point of his teeth make contact with your skin, when the door opens and one of his keepers calls for him. “What?!” Taehyung shouts back in frustration. “What could possibly be so important that you must interrupt my dinner?” 

“There is a hunter demanding entrance at the gate.” The vampire informs, looking rather shaken for having displeased his lord. “Says he won’t leave until he sees proof that you received your princess. It seems that he was trying to deliver her when she ran off in the daylight earlier today.”

“So someone did find you... that would explain...” His hands soften on your neck running his fingers over the previously tortured flesh. He then turns to the vampire waiting for his answer. “What is the hunter’s name?”

“Agust, my lord.”

Your head snaps up with your eyes wide. Yoongi is here, and he knew to call himself Agust? That can only mean, the secrets kept from him by his clan, the truth that would break you, it was the knowledge of Taehyung’s presence here.

  “Is this the case my princess? Did this Agust find you and intend to bring you here?” You bite your tongue but he pushes his power over you again. “Tell me the truth of this matter.”

“He did.” You can’t be sure of what Yoongi intends to do once inside, but at least your forced honesty did not betray his cover.

“He has my permission to enter. Bring him to me now, I owe him my gratitude for taking such good care of my princess.” The vampire guard leaves to grant the other access. 

Taehyung traces his teeth with his tongue. Appearing unusually happy despite the fact that his meal was disturbed. “You will remain seated and quiet, while I reward this hunter for his deeds, is that understood princess?” You reluctantly nod, submitting to his compulsion. 

Yoongi, accompanied by four of Taehyung's kin, enters the dinning hall and promptly bows. “My lord.”

“Agust... I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of speaking before have we?” 

“No my lord, I’ve dealt only with your keepers. But it was my honour to retrieve your princess as requested.” You meet his eye when they flicker in your direction trying to decipher his plan, but are unable to see a way out that could have possessed him to take such a risk.

“Yes, I must thank you for bringing her most of the way. I am surprised that you knew to find me here though, I thought that was kept confidential from the hunters.”

“It was my lord but I learned of your occupation here only recently, such a large group of vampires in a human city does not go unnoticed for long.” 

“Then I commend you, for doing what many of my other hunters could not.” Taehyung smirks at his own kin’s expense. “Tell me who was your maker, from which line do you descend?

“Your caretaker Egan, my lord.” Yoongi offers, his tone flat and even. “Though I don’t know if he would recall me, I am one of many.”

“Egan you say?” Taehyung pauses, with a raised brow and pout, which soon fades into a smile after a moment's hesitation. “He has created a fair few hasn’t he?” He chuckles. “Now you were not able to finish my task to completion, but I will still grant you the reward of becoming a keeper if you can complete just one other challenge.”

“Of course my lord.” Yoongi promises, watching adamantly with his hand twitching at his side. 

“There is someone I need you to find, one who has been haunting me for quite some time. Before my princess met me she fell in love with another of our kind. A vampire who works for Lord Hoseok, and goes by the name Min Yoongi. It took me a year to find the full extent of the boundaries in her memory that relate to him, I needed to empty her of love for that fool, and take it for myself. I was successful in the end of course.” He tips your chin with his finger delighting in the pained expression you bear at the thought. “But I would like to see the end of him, and purge anything that might hope to take her from me.”

“I understand...” Yoongi responds through a clenched jaw. Peeking a concerned glance at you when Taehyung's back turns to him. 

“I think she might be able to help you start your quest. You know where to find this Yoongi, do you not my princess?”

You dip your head, as a tear slips from your cheek and falls to your lap. You bite your tongue in an attempt to hold back your answer but Taehyung presses again with the compulsion of his blood. “You will answer me, out loud.”

“Yes,” you confirm,  your eyes meeting with Yoongi’s again, pleading for him to go now, and escape before you reveal anything else. 

“Do you think it will be an easy task for this vampire Agust to find him?” 

“I do.” You utter with a reply stolen from your lips.

 Taehyung mutters in your ear for his final question. “Is he the one who stands before us now my princess?” Panic instantly seizes you, with every function of your body coming to a halt, wondering how he could have found out. The moment your mouth starts to open, Yoongi launches himself at Taehyung, but his attack is quickly brought to a halt by the vampire lord who draws his own stake. Shoving Yoongi across the room and into the arms of his guard.

“You thought you could fool me after so many of your brethren tried and failed?” The cruel lord chides with a low chuckle. “There have been too many errors on your part, the greatest of which was the name of your false creator.” He approaches his new prisoner dragging the point of the stake along Yoongi’s chest while he is held in place. “A misstep of Egan’s allowed for her to escape, and so I sent the order for him to be disposed of. I knew the deed was done mere hours ago when I watched a progeny of his wither away before my eyes. If you were of his blood you too would have perished.”  Taehyung explains before he paces away twirling the stake between his fingers. “What a wicked curse we must endure is it not? Though it does have its advantages... I wonder how many will I wipe out with your death?” Your heart beats wildly in your chest longing to run forward and prevent such an event. “It will come soon, of that there is no question, but not before I take every ounce of information you hold about Hoseok’s current plans.” 

“You will get nothing from me unless you let her go,” Yoongi growls.

“Let go of my own bride?” The restrained vampire flinches at the comment as Taehyung grins and prods further. “I suppose you didn’t know. You must forgive her for not informing you, she couldn’t recall it herself until a few minutes ago. Regardless, I have no plans to free her, for I believe the closer I am to your beloved the more I will get from you.” Taehyung joins you at your side again.  “What do you think princess? Would you like an admirer for our performance? I’m sure even the steadfast Min Yoongi would bend to my will if he witnesses you in my favourite roles.”

Taehyung’s attention is drawn away from the pair of you when more of his keepers enter the room greeting him with a nod. “Alas the show will have to wait. I have permissions to grant, and a story to feed your staff,” The vampire lord sighs and acquiesces to their needs, grabbing the decanter from which you took a glass. “The rest of your people will come after.”

Taehyung gestures to one of his men. “He will take you to your room, and you will remain there until I return. I look forward to having a more fulfilling reunion between you and I come dawn.” His fingers brush against your cheek one last time before addressing the vampires holding Yoongi. “Keep him locked up along with the revolutionaries for now. I will call upon him later.”

Yoongi continues to lash out as you are both dragged in opposite directions. Barring his fangs at those who hold him, but he is soon subdued with the addition of another clan member and carried out of sight. 

Your own escort doesn’t say a word as he takes you through the empty halls, and staircases with one hand grappling your upper arm. Any attempt to pull it from him is met with a snarl and tighter hold. As you pass the rooms of the hall you wonder where Taehyung has the remaining staff kept and despite the lies forced down their throat you hope they will remain untouched.

The guard opens a door and pushes you in, sending you to the ground before locking it behind. The dimly lit room is unfortunately not your own, consisting only of a bed, washstand, and shuttered windows. Rising from the timber floor you find a stain on your hands and dress originating from the spot on which you landed, a spill, red enough to be the remnants of a vampire's meal. You start heaving at the thought, running to the filled basin desperate to remove the sticky scarlet substance. With hands shaking as they are submerged in water, your entirety follows suit, quaking in fear of what has just transpired and what is left to come. 

Your parents are lost, they dug their own grave, but your fellow citizens, and Yoongi... you have to find him, before he too is lost and your people are reduced to a mere spattering on the floor. 

You pull on the shutters of the window, releasing them to peer out and see if there is any hope to scale out of this one too. The height from the ground might be manageable, but a pair of glowing eyes looking up to you from the garden stops your attempt. The gaze from below continues to watch until you retract and close the space between you again. Taehyung's caretakers and keepers are as eager to keep and feed on you as he is. Visions of past attacks start to flood your mind, making you regret your venture to look out. You tried to escape so many times in your past captivity. Each one with the exception of the last was foiled by his keepers or caretakers, some brought you straight back to your room, while others... others were swiftly intercepted by the lord of the fortress, but only after they landed their first bite.  

Retreating to the corner of the room, you set yourself down at the furthest point from the door and window. Left alone to stare at the crimson puddle, as you wait for Taehyung’s return. There is no question that you have to bear the weight of your memories as painful as they are, you can not afford to forget the past. Not now, not with Yoongi nor your people in jeopardy. You wonder if Taehyung will strike such a deal with you. If you promise to abide by his command without his blood, will that be enough to buy at the very least Yoongi’s safety?

The minutes pass while you consider your options, distracted only when there comes a thump from the shutters. You rise from your spot and move closer to the door. The boards made to conceal the daylight shatter inward with another hit, knocking over the solitary candle and casting you into darkness. The shadowy intruder leaps in, their gleaming eyes holding you in their sights. 

Figuring it to be one of the Taehyung’s progeny’s come for a taste, you draw breath to scream. Until the vampire collides with you, holding you down, and covering your mouth. 

“I told you to stay in the room.” The hushed tones of Yoongi greet you to your immense relief. “Why didn’t you listen to me? Why did you run?” He waits there for a moment, removing his hand only when you finally relax beneath him.

“Yoongi...” You gasp in relief. “I overheard you and Seokjin. When I saw you give into the demands... I-I didn’t know, I didn’t realize-”

There’s a knock interrupting your explanation, the vampiric guard no doubt alarmed by the commotion. You both fall silent, but that does not seem to satisfy the sentry,  who proceeds to unlock the door. Yoongi jumps up ready to meet him with a stake. As the barrier opens, the vampire tries to step inside, making it only far enough in for the wooden weapon to reach his heart. Yoongi grabs the enemies throat in the last moments, committing him to silence until death before tossing the corpse to the side. Treating the newly dead as nothing more than a bothersome distraction. 

Yoongi turns back to you but keeps his distance, a growl rattling in his throat as he takes deep breaths. “I told you before, I would never take you there. I had no wish to abide by the request from my lord. I could not tell Seokjin of my plans to disobey while we remained in his house. I was going to take you as far away as I could after learning the whole truth behind your capture, but your stunt put everything in jeopardy, including yourself.”

You start to sob upon hearing his deception, you should have guessed that with such a reveal from his own clan he would try to deceive them too, like the others he dealt with on your behalf. He closes the gap between you, pulling you in close, allowing your tears to fall on his chest. “How-how did you escape just now? I thought for certain he had us both in his grasp.”

“I kept hold of the tainted blood, and those holding me were in desperate need of a drink. One sip and they were at my mercy instead.” He lips grace the top of your head with a kiss as you cling to him. “We’re going to get you out of here okay? We’ll go down to the passage. I have already released those he captured, if he has a mob on his hands, we might slip out undetected.”

“I can’t leave, not yet-”

“Why, because he compelled you to stay?” Yoongi questions, attempting to dismiss your concern. “I will carry you out if your own volition fails to do so.”

“It is not that alone... he was not lying when he told you I was his-his-” You stall on the word unable to say it yourself. “In those five years, he played with my mind, he made me forget you and desire him instead, a-and I fell for it. It is because of me he now has a claim to every home in the town. This is my error to fix. I will not leave those who dwell here to feed his own.”

“You are not to blame for his actions.” He counters, his own voice cracking in desperation.  “Your remaining here will not change that.”

“I only wish to remain so I can bring an end to him, to kill him.” You promise. “Either way, whether successful or not I will not exist here long.    

“No, I am not letting you near him again. If we must do this then let him be mine to kill.”

“He thinks me in here unarmed and broken to his will,” You open Yoongi’s jacket to find another stake that he must have stolen from Taehyung’s followers. “I will have a better chance. It would be better for you to ensure that his clan has not brought harm to anyone else.”

“And leave you here to face him? If he falls so do his own progenies, which includes most if not all of his keepers. There will be no point in my leaving to dispose of them, if your main goal is to defeat him.”

“If he sees you he will be instantly aware. When he is as strong as you say then even you won’t be able to defeat him without catching him off guard.”

“I am not leaving you alone with him even if you are armed, and that is final.” Yoongi takes his firm stance, while grabbing at the stake in your hand. “I will not lose you again...”      

You look down at the deceased on your floor, fearing the same fate for Yoongi should he remain here with you. Taehyung has proven time and time again that none can fool him for long, not Yoongi, not his clan members, even those who disobeyed him attempting to draw blood from you were cast aside... with Taehyung throwing himself between you and them.  “If you will not leave then... I need you to bite me.”

Yoongi follows your gaze in confusion, “What is it you are plotting your highness?”

“He will no doubt come running if he smells my spilt blood. He has before. If he thinks I am in danger from his own, I will be able to get close with his guard down.” You take the stake back from him while he considers your plan, gripping it in your fist behind your back. “All you have to do is play the threat.”

“Will you not wait for another alternative? My clan could be here in a day to deal with them.”

“He is hungry, and all too confident of victory.” You plead with your vampire. “If we wait-” 

“If we wait he will be more likely to catch on...” Yoongi growls confirming your thoughts, as he begrudgingly bends down to take the cloak of the defeated guard. Tying it around he pulls the hood over his head. “This is unbelievably reckless you know. I should just take you from here this instant.”

“But you won’t.” You reply with a sad smile reaching up to touch his cheek with your hand, and press a kiss to his lips. “You long for an end to this as much as I.”  

With his back to the door he takes you into his arms. When hunched over you Taehyung should not know who he is until it is too late. Yoongi places his mouth ready to sink into your neck. “Are you sure you want to be the one to-”

“I have to.” You cut him off before he can even try to change your mind again.

With a deep sigh his teeth pierce your skin, the blood starts to flood from the wound and Yoongi lets out a low pained groan as he resists the urge to feed. For the more blood that escapes and is left to the air, the sooner that Taehyung will come running to investigate your situation. After a minute passes, you start to feel light headed and grip your weapon tighter. 

“If he doesn't come soon I will have to put a stop to this.”

“He will come,” you gasp. “Just wait.” 

Right on cue there comes a shout from down the hall along with the thunder of footsteps. Your door crashes open to reveal the ferocious monster. 

Yoongi is thrown to the wall, and promptly disregarded in the moment by Taehyung, whose immediate attention is more occupied with you spilling out before him. “She is mine,” he seethes looking ravenous after not feeding on you for weeks. His hunger distracting him from the arm you have tucked behind your back. While pulling you closer to take a taste himself, you draw your own weapon, stabbing him through his heart with the stake. 

He looks down to injury with a sobering disbelief, his words heavy on his lips with a low chuckle as he forces out his final thoughts before his demise. “Well played princess... you had me thinking I was to be your hero again.”

“You were never my hero, only my assailant.” You shove the stake deeper into his chest. “And now my fatality.”

Taehyung gasps and delivers one last cruel smile. “A fitting end, though I can think of one better. Why part here, when you can join me in death.” He launches at your throat ready to strike and bleed you further, when his actions are cut short by another. 

With the stake pulled from the other vampire, Yoongi pierces him through the back, and takes hold from behind preventing Taehyung’s last threat. The vampire lord's eyes go wide showing a brief moment of fear before he finally succumbs to death. Pulling yourself from his clutches you take a deep breath and rejoice in the freedom, though the feeling doesn’t last long. 

Already dizzy from the loss of blood you are in no way prepared for the surge of memories that flood back. With Taehyung dead his physical hold on you diminished, but the pain of his manipulation, the trauma and loss he has inflicted on you hits as a wave, and pulls you under. 

Yoongi is there to heal the wound on your neck, he calls to you repeatedly though his voice along with your vision of him are clouded amongst your thoughts. Your heart pounds and head races as it continues to try and register the influx of everything you lost. 

There’s a soft touch to your temple, as a whisper from him finally makes it through. “Be strong my love, you can conquer this too.”

You can feel yourself being lifted as the room moves around you. Clinging to his coat you utter your wish to leave, unwilling to spend another moment in this castle. Fully slipping as he draws you in closer.

...

When the haze lifts you come to find yourself in another bed. Not one of the castle’s no, it seems Yoongi had observed that request, but the location is still worrisome for it is the same room you had shared with him in Seokjin’s house. You immediately sit up, panicking over your last memory of this place, and fearful of Yoongi’s clan’s intent. 

Your vampire sleeps on a chair beside you, though his head and chest are slumped over on the mattress and his hand encasing yours. Stirring the second your grip leaves his and you attempt to get from the bed. He grabs at your shoulder pushing you back down with ease, “What do you think you are doing? You are in no state to be running off.” 

“Yoongi... why are we here? If Seokjin-”

“This was the only safe place I could think to bring you. You have nothing to fear here now. Seokjin will not do anything, he knows he was in the wrong to suggest such compulsion, and Namjoon has promised retribution on your behalf if he continues such behaviour.” Yoongi briefly smirks at the thought of the pair, though his expression soon darkens as his hand brushes your hair from your face as you relax back into the bed. “I thought- I was worried I lost you back there.”

“I-I couldn’t control it, there was so much that I had lost and most of it difficult to bear again...” You grimace at the pain of it, prompting Yoongi to lean in to kiss your blow and pull a small smile from you again. “I should never have returned. I should have trusted you more, I’m so sorry for putting you in danger like that.”

“It was not your fault. You had every reason to doubt me given your past and what you knew. I can’t imagine what it was like, but...” He looks down avoiding your eyes as he rubs your hands, the words that follow are just as tentative and soft. “If you should- I don’t know if- if you need me to help you discard any memories I will do so. Doesn’t have to be now or ever, but if you ever need me to... don’t feel like you have to carry the weight of it alone.”   

You nod your eyes tearing up with gratitude for his offer. “Thank you, there will be some moments that I- that I will be glad to be rid of.” Yoongi’s warm smile comes with his arms to wrap around you in a tight hug. You wince as your muscles stain to return the affection, feeling as though they have seized from lack of use. “How long have I been under?” 

“The longest two nights of my existence.”

“Two nights?” You exclaim pulling out of the embrace in shock. “What has happened since?  Was anyone else hurt before I-I-”

“No one else, but the castle,” Yoongi sighs looking hesitant to tell you the rest. “The castle was set aflame in an act of defiance. It was sentenced to burn once the staff and resistance had cleared it of everything of value.”

“Good,” you whisper. 

“There is more... Seokjin has been keeping a close eye on the situation.” Yoongi discloses. “But, when word spread that you returned only to vanish again, many believed your appearance to be that of an imposter rather than their former princess. They thought you a tool of the mysterious lord attempting to gain power.”

“And their plans to create a new form of rule?” You ask, the focus of your question leading Yoongi to tilt his head in confusion.

“Going forward without much backlash, but-”

“Then they have every right to think so. I am very different from their lost princess.” You smile to Yoongi’s surprise. “I am a threat to them now, a threat to the future governance they plan to install. Any version of me might sow the seeds of discord in progress if I was to return. If this story of me being a deceiver will help them to rebuild, then let them think it. I will make no plans to return.”

Yoongi nods in understanding, though his expression still holds regret. “I am sorry I was not able to deliver you home as promised.”

“That place was not my home for so long, not since you-”

A loud knock comes from the front door of the small home, reaching you all the way in your upstairs room. Yoongi stiffens in the seat next to you as muffled voices are soon heard too. Your vampire stands going to the door where Seokjin appears a moment later with news. “It’s Lord Hoseok. He’s here, and he wants to see you.”

“Don’t you dare let him in.” Yoongi pushes back. “Not with her here, not now.” 

“I can’t exactly deny him entrance,” Seokjin scoffs. “This is his house-”

“Fine, then I will.” 

Seokjin puts a hand on Yoongi’s chest and prevents him from storming off into a confrontation. “You know you can’t stop him. If he wishes to see her he will, but right now I think his main concern is you. Do not anger him if there is no reason to. See what he wants then come to a judgement.”

The same loud knock you heard below then arrives at your bedroom door, breaking off the disagreement between the two vampires.The guest you know not to require permission, but it seems that he would rather enter on your terms rather than his own. 

“Yoongi?” You call to him, witnessing the dread in his face when he turns to look at you. “I should like to speak to him too.”

Yoongi’s reluctant hand turns the lever, letting his lord inside. Your own vampire stands between the two of you preventing you from getting a good look as the first words are exchanged.   

“My Lord.”

“Tell me it is so, that it is true. Is Taehyung- ” The vampire lord immediately launches into the heart of the matter. The weight of his tone sends shivers to even you. 

“Dead, my lord.” 

“Thank you Yoongi, I am in your debt.” The tension in his voice quickly falls away. 

“It was not I alone who defeated him sir. The credit also goes to the woman who you thought you would contain to your fortress.” Yoongi mutters with malice.

“I app-” His lord steps further in, allowing him to finally catch a glimpse of you. He pauses for a moment as he takes you in, his mouth hangs open and a single word falls in greeting, “Mansin?”

Though the word is foreign to you Yoongi reacts in an instant, returning to your side, he growls and his superior in defiance while positioned in your defence. “She is not-”

Lord Hoseok seems to catch himself and apologises. “A mistake Yoongi, an honest mistake, I see that she is bound to you. You must forgive me,” He whispers while giving a sad smile in penance. “Something in your expression reminded me of someone I once knew.” He politely touches upon his error, but leaves you with no reason for Yoongi’s reception. “I must give my thanks to you as well then, for you saved me the pain of having to kill my own creation.” 

Alarmed by the confession you try to stand but Yoongi’s hand once again comes down to your shoulder. “Then Taehyung was yours? You created that monster?!”

“It was not my intention to have him turn out in such a way.” The vampire lord growls at the censure, causing Yoongi to grow ridged next to you. “I found him as an innocent young man dying, whispering the name of the one he loved, the one he was bound to. I took pity on him, would you not have done the same?” Hoseok raises an eyebrow as he throws his choice back at you. 

You swallow and nod in response. “I suppose I would have.” The swift changes in mood of the vampire lord keep you on guard, intimidating in one moment and considerate in the next. It’s easy to see why Yoongi might be wary of him around you. 

“I chose to banish him from the clan when he killed his former mate, your ancestor, for I could no longer trust him. He sought revenge on both your family and mine, and it is my fault alone. I knew that Yoongi would prefer to keep you as far away as possible, but Taehyung would likely have tracked you down sooner or later. I wanted to make up for that by offering you a safe place at my fortress but I can see that it was misconstrued.” 

“Thankfully your assistance with my residence is no longer required.” You convey, hoping that he has abandoned the notion, since the threat is no longer stalking you.

“Yes... thankfully.” Lord Hoseok reiterates with a weak grin.

“If you are in our debt as you say then I would like to make a request of you.” You ask much to Yoongi’s surprise, resulting in his head snapping in your direction.

“A request?” Hoseok blinks, a grin twitching in his lips. He grabs the chair from the desk, turning it to face you before taking his seat. “What have you to ask of me?”

“My old kingdom, I want to ensure the health of the people. I ask that if your clan goes there to feed they use the tactics that Yoongi has been operating under.” Yoongi finally exhales and relaxes, as you explain your wish, a small smile crosses his lips with what looks to be pride.

“I understand your position, and would agree immediately if there were to be no recourse, but to put such limitations on my clan without any amendments or accommodations to offer in return... many would turn rogue.” Hoseok shakes his head. “No, if I ordered that, we might find ourselves in another situation like before.”

You consider what you have left to give with nothing left from your family to offer, you have only what you may have acquired through matrimonial bonds. “Tell me when a vampire dies, what happens to the ownership of their residences.”

“It will go to whomever they deemed a second who was not created by their own lineage. Yoongi was once my own. I don’t know if Taehyung- ”

“But if they had taken a wife who survived them?” You ask.

“They would be yours...” Yoongi mutters beside you in understanding.

You nod grimacing at the prospect of owning his land. “I want no part of them. But if they will help you to convince your clan to adjust their feedings and continue to help those of my former kingdom they are yours.” You offer to Hoseok. “Every fortress, waypoint and house that belonged to him will all be transferred to your own clan. ”

“Then I accept your terms,” Hoseok nods in agreement. “But where will you go?”

You look to Yoongi to give the answer. Caught off guard he pauses before responding with the simple direction of, “East, we plan to head east.”

  ...

...Two months later...

Yoongi stops the horse and dismounts beside an overgrown field, looking at the land with a deep contented sigh. “This is it.” He lights a lantern for you before treading into the long grass, in search of the foundation of his old home.

He was right, there is little left, but regardless of that fact you help him by clearing the roughage from any remains you can find. Pausing only when he does, while uncovering what seems to be a rotting wooden board laying on the ground. Upon further inspection you find it to shield a substantial cavern below with steps leading into the darkness. 

“If that’s the cellar... Then that must mean.” Yoongi mutters, before taking a few steps away, counting his paces as he goes. Hunching down over a higher patch of ground, he tears away the long weeds, until a stone hearth reveals itself. He takes the rotting wooden board, and breaks it apart into several pieces. Building them up before he sets them alight with the fire of the lantern. 

He lowers himself to sit in front of the burning wood and beckons for your hand, kissing you knuckles, raw from the cold wind of your journey as you take a seat next to him. Despite the lack of walls and roof, you are overwhelmed by Yoongi’s peace as he looks into the fire, feeling that same comfort and warmth within yourself. “I never thought I’d see this place again, but now, it feels right to return. Perhaps-” He meets your eye before expressing the rest of his tentative question. “Perhaps we could stay here for a while?”

“I would like that.” You answer with a nod, prompting him to beam back at you.

While Yoongi moves to lay on the grass relaxing in the light of the flame you pull out the new map you’ve been working on since the start of your journey east. The other still remains, not entirely forgotten, but of little use in this region. The fresh start on parchment comes as a much needed reprieve, the chance to begin again. 

“You are marking this place down for me?” Yoongi asks as you draw with your quill pen. 

“For us,” you correct him.

Looking down at the new point on the map now labelled with your description, he smiles at the sight of the single word you had written. “Have I fulfilled my duty to you then? Should we part ways here?” He jests pushing to rise up until you tug him back down by his long coat.

“You have,” Shaking your head at his joke, you explain your true feelings behind the word. “But if you leave, this place ceases to be so. It only exists as such when I am with you.”

“Then I must stay by your side, or risk breaking another promise?” He continues to tease you, with a twitch to the corner of his lip.

You can’t help but laugh at his attempt to conceal his eagerness. “So it would seem. How long do you think you can keep your vow?” 

“For eternity.” Yoongi whispers, leaning in to kiss you over the setting ink of, ‘Home.’

...

-The End-

...

[ambertea]

clever

Read on AO3

She’s six years old and she’s just won a certificate for Maths.

Her mum’s sitting at the back of the assembly, exchanging whispers to the single dad sitting next to her. Rose keeps looking back, trying to catch her eye, but instead watches her mother’s hand sneaking up a strange man’s thigh.

The headmaster smiles at her strangely, in a way she will later define as ‘condescending’ but in the moment she can’t wrap her head around.

“Well done, you clever girl.” He says, and Rose hates it. His clammy hand engulfs hers and Rose just blinks as he shakes it up and down.

The school claps dutifully and her mum is still not looking at her.

She’s eleven years old and she hates everyone in her class. They tease her in the playground, mock her in the classroom and the only safe haven is the tiny library. The librarian is old and odd, and she strokes Rose’s hair like she’s nothing more than a tiny doll.

“Don’t try so hard to be clever,” she tells her. “They’ll leave you alone.”

Rose leaves the library and never comes back.

She’s fifteen years old and GCSEs are utter bullocks. Mickey has already failed them all, already told her they don’t matter in the real world. She stays behind after school to sit in empty classrooms to figure out algebra and tells her mum she still does gymnastics.

She gets her results in a thick brown envelope and takes a quick glance at a long list of A’s before she chucks it in the bin.

“Pure shit.” She tells her mum. “Didn’t even try, anyway. I’m just not clever enough.”

Her mum throws her a party regardless, and Rose ignores the ache in her chest.

She’s seventeen and he’s fucking hot.

She’s told her mum she’s doing A-levels because she hasn’t figured out if she wants to do hairdressing or childcare. Instead, she doodles equations on the back of English papers whilst she waits for everyone else to finish.

She meets Jimmy outside the school gates and he’s smoking cigarettes and the smell gets right into the back of her throat. She tells him that it’s bad for him, and he tells her he could be bad for her. He’s right.

She drops out of school and her mother approves because it was giving her airs and graces. What her mother does not approve of is the filthy bedsit she moves into, where she cries as her boyfriend screams at her.

“You think you’re clever, do you?” he yells, and she shakes her head and whispers no, no, never.

She’s nineteen, fucking shop window dummies are after her, and a strange man is standing with her in the lift.

“’Cos to get that many people dressed up and being silly, they got to be students.”

“Good point. Well done.”

She’s wrong, but the praise bounces around her brain.

She runs off with him because apparently, that’s just what she does. Runs off with charismatic men, leaves her mother worried sick, because she is Rose, and Rose is not clever.

This man, however, is no Jimmy. He’s smart – so smart, any small attempts at intelligence still leave her feeling dumb. This is a comfort. She argues with him, thinks around him, and starts to feel a bit better about herself.

He’s sweet as well, and kind, and doesn't care when she asks too many questions. He shows her how to strip wires and repair parts of his precious ship, and they tinker away together in comfortable silences. Now and then, she properly impresses him, and he ignores the beauties of the universe and beams at her instead. It’s strange and wonderful and she tries her best not to disappoint him.

Then she is sent away, he is trapped, and it’s time for her to use her bloody brains only she’s not sure they even work anymore. He is dying, far in the future, but still dying, and she is watching her mum scoff down chips. She doesn’t want to go back to her old life, doesn’t want to play stupid anymore.

“Why, because you’re better than us?”

No, because she has learned what life is like when she tries, and she is not yet ready to stop.

She makes it back, using her brain and a fucking massive truck, and it is worth it if just for the way he is looking at her. He tells her she is fantastic and then explodes into a whole new man, with a lankier frame and wilder hair. He takes a long nap, and she is left to be useless once more.

She stands up in front of actual, breathing monsters and tries to copy words she’s heard, but her voice shakes, and her hands are trembling. They laugh at her, and she is eleven again, being teased by the nasty girls in her class.

He saves the day, because that’s just what he does, and she runs off with him again because his smile is still kind and their hands fit nicely. Cassandra sits inside her brain and hums with curiosity, poking around her mind like it’s a mildly interesting boutique.

“Not as thick as you seem, are you?” She whispers into Rose’s mind.

She’s inside some sort of spaceship and he is gushing over the accomplishments of Reinette de Pompadour. She already knows all this, knows who she is, but he is enjoying the sound of his own voice, so she keeps quiet.

She watches him carefully, notices the lipstick marks around his face and the ridiculous angle of his collar, and stamps down the familiar feelings of jealousy rising within her chest.

It had felt like they were growing closer. Their hugs had been lingering, hands held tightly at any available moment. She had thought something was growing, something small and precious and good. Clearly, she was wrong.

Reinette dies, and Rose isn’t glad, not really, but she watches him carefully afterward and wonders. Wonders why he keeps her around if he even wants her there. She tries to ask, but the words die on her tongue.

She has almost let the feeling go when she meets her father, a man who does not know her and apparently does not care to. She calls him dad and he runs, leaving her crying and shaking and so very vulnerable. She wonders, afterward, why. Why no one has ever wanted her properly, why it feels like no one has even met her in the first place. She sobs into her mum’s shoulder and wishes she had told her about the GCSE results.

Maybe it’s a good thing, she thinks later, that she’s alone. She has no real connections that make her want to stay at home, no real relationships that don’t leave her mentally exhausted. He is her grounding point, her focus, and he doesn’t think she’s stupid, not really, but he doesn’t think she’s clever either.

She knows she loves him; knows she will spend the rest of her life pining for him. It aches, having so much unspent emotion coursing under her skin. Feels like she could explode and implode simultaneously. But his eyes are so soft, and he is so worth it.

“We’ll always be alright, me and you.” She tells him. He just stares into the sky glumly.

“There’s a storm approaching.”

She hopes for a bit of rain but instead gets a fucking earthquake.

She’s twenty-one, she’s in a different universe, and she’s absolutely fine.

“How are you doing?”

“Are you okay?”

“Speak to me, Rose, please.”

She doesn’t speak to anyone. Doesn’t even look in the mirror.

It’s hard to assign blame on a talking pepper pot, so instead, she blames herself. If she’d been stronger. Tried harder. Been cleverer.

She tells her mum this over a bottle of wine, and she just laughs.

“People like us aren’t clever, Rose. We’re survivors.”

She doesn’t want to be a survivor anymore.

She starts working at Torchwood. Starts sleeping at Torchwood as well. Pete gives her the job out of pity but is quickly astonished by the scale of the work she’s doing.

“You’re brilliant.” He tells her one night. Jackie scoffs.

“Brilliant? Hark at her.”

Rose ignores her. It doesn’t matter.

She sits through A-levels, and then university lectures, and then physics conventions with groups of boring boys who follow her like a bizarre squadron. She has a brother now, a tiny boy with eyes just like hers, and when she tucks him into bed, she whispers stories of the stars.

She creates a dimension cannon and brings it home to show Pete. He marvels over it whilst Jackie sniffs like she’s got a nasty cold.

“Just glorified jewelry. Face it, sweetheart. You’re stuck here with the rest of us. It’s time to get used to it.”

“Shut up,” Rose says, and she can feel her pulse banging away in her ears like a marching parade.

Jackie is spluttering, Pete’s eyes are wide, and Rose isn’t quite sure what she’s doing but she’s doing it anyway.

“I can do this. I am going to do this. So just shut up.”

She does do it. She flits around universes like students backpack around Europe, and it’s strangely healing to spend so much time by herself.

She meets tiny aliens made of glass who kiss through the refractions of light and hugs ginormous bear-like creatures who are surprisingly friendly and incredibly soft.

She searches for him, and it hurts and it’s hard but it’s also fantastic.

She gets through finally to a universe that should be right but is oh so very wrong. A red-haired woman screams at her, and Rose is finding it difficult to breathe.

“I'm nothing special. I'm a temp. I'm not even that. I'm nothing.”

“Donna Noble, you are the most important woman in the whole of creation!”

“Oh, don't. Just don't.”

She tells her mum about her GCSE results because she can’t stop thinking about it. Her mum stares at her for a long while and then looks down at her hands. Rose has never seen her mum speechless before, doesn’t like it, so she just nods and leaves.

She finds him, and the feeling rushes right from her toes to the top of her head. She has done it. After all the effort and pain, she has found him, and the uncurling pride is like nothing she’s ever felt before.

He gets shot and utterly ruins it, but the feeling lingers.

Her mum shows up at the worst possible time, but she is there, and she is looking at Rose so fiercely. When the situation calms down and they are safe, she pulls Rose into a tight hug and rubs her hands in circles across the small of her back.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” She whispers, and Rose quickly wipes her eyes on her shoulders.

She is dumped on the same beach she has had nightmares about for the last five years. She is left again, but this time she is left with a familiar man who whispers promises into her ear and holds her like she is something important.

He is looking at her like he’s hoping she might lead the way, and she knows how to do this now, knows how to think and plan and strategize. She kisses him on the cheek, watches the blush that spreads across his cheek, takes his hand, and leads him back to England.

She doesn’t take him straight back to the mansion, hates the idea of speech and silence in equal measure. Instead, she takes him to her lab, and he stares at her designs through startled eyes and stolen glasses. She fidgets in the corner of the room, and wraps her arms around her waist, waiting for his verdict.

He turns to her, whips the glasses off of his face and a look of quiet wonder spreads across his face.

“You’re brilliant.”

She squirms under his gaze, picks off an invisible bit of fluff from her jacket. He is still looking at her, and she tries her best to smile.

“Thanks.”

“No, seriously. These are so impressive.”

She’s still not sure what to do with the praise, but it warms her and fills all the cracked pieces of her soul with new and growing tissue. She kisses him, both because she’s not sure what else to do, and because she can, and he smiles against her lips. They break apart and he runs his fingers over her work, his eyes soft and curious.

“How did you do this?” He whispers, and something tender and precious burns gently in her chest.

“I guess I’m just clever.”

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Being Engaged To A Handsome Nobleman But He Turns Out To Be Lestat Who Makes You His Latest Victim

Lestat De Lioncourt X FemReader

Warnings: Death, mentions of blood, violence

(A/N:) Happy first day of October my lovelies! I hope you are all ready for some delightfully spooky and frightful imagines! I have six written out so far and I plan on writing more but I'm going to spread them out over time! If you have any requests make sure to get them in to me and I'll see if I can write them for you! But until then happy reading!

~Countess

Life was beyond blessed at the moment for you. You had everything you could ever dream of and were engaged to a most handsome noble lord. Your parents were beyond ecstatic and wanted you to have the dream wedding you always longed for ever since you were a child. Your friends listened to you gush at tea time joyfully giggling as you described your husband to be. Though you could see a flash of jealousy at some points in the conversation but quickly it disappeared and their joyful gazes returned. You knew that they would find love like you had one day and you assured them that you thought of that often. Now as you set before your large mirror readying yourself for the evening with your beloved you couldn’t help but hum as you were unable to contain your happiness. Finishing the last details you could hear your maid announce that said man had just arrived. As you emerged you could see him standing within the foyer, golden hair shining under the candlelight and rosy lips upturned in a gracious smile.

“Good evening,” you curtsied in greeting before Lestat took your hand giving a kiss to the soft skin.

“Good evening,” he purred sultrily. Before whisking you out the front door your parents came to say goodbye. Your father was talking sternly with Lestat as your mother held you tightly. They had always been protective over you but Lestat had shown himself to be the perfect gentleman. With one last hug your mother released you only to be embraced by your father. One last warning from the man who protected you your whole life you were whisked away out into the cooler evening. You shivered once before giggles erupted from your throat. The night was crisp but clean and people dotted the streets. Stars glittered above where lantern light couldn’t touch. The streets felt like a wonderland and Lestat felt like your prince. Dinner went well though as usual Lestat didn’t eat. When you had first met him you had thought it weird that he wouldn’t eat around you but he always had a reasonable excuse on why he could not dine with you. The night waned on further as the temp drop furthered. Walking in the park quickly warmed you but what joy you had felt at first was being replaced by a feeling of unease. Something didn’t seem right and Lestat’s grip seemed to tighten. Halfway through the park thunder rumbled loudly, lightning splitting the sky in bright white light. You could have sworn the lightening bolts were smiling gruesomely at you.

“Lestat,” you sniffed scared out of your mind. “I’m ready to go home dear this weather is frightful.”

“Don’t worry dear,” he stroked your cheek his nails prickling your skin. You could have sworn he had claws but you chalked it up to the cold clamminess of your skin. “My home isn’t far from here. I’ll take you there and we can weather the storm in safety.”

“But darling I really want to go home.”

“And why is that,” he took your wrist squeezing it harshly making you cry out. “Do you think I’m incapable to take care of you?”

“No that’s not it at all,” you pleaded trying to get him to release you. “I am just a little tired and long for my bed. This evening has been so wonderful that you’ve tired me out.”

Lestat smirked, “I can tire you further if you so desire.” You wrenched yourself away fear taking over at seeing the bloodlust within his gaze.

Finally free you fled from the man you had thought you loved. His laughter rang out through the darkness as your shoes clacked against the stones on the park’s pathway. You couldn’t see and the rain wasn’t helping. You trembled from fear and the cold rain plastering your hair and clothing to your body. You dared not scream out in fear that the monster you realized was Lestat would find you. Danger suffocated you trying to close off your throat as you forced air into your lungs. Your dress was drenched making your running slow. You felt heavy and despair was taking over until you saw the exit to the park. Lantern light had never looked so good as you burst into the golden light. Frantically looking around the streets for help the once crowded area was now bare and desolate like a graveyard. You could have cried but the overwhelming urge to keep going wouldn’t let you. Starting in the direction back home you kept an eye out for Lestat while looking for whoever soul who could still be outside at this hour. You still felt it too dangerous to scream out until you were halfway home. A figure up the road brought you a sense of ease.

“Help me,” you cried holding your soggy dress up to run faster. “Help! I’m in danger!”

The figure turned their features still to far to make out. You could tell it was a man by the way the silhouette was shaped. You stopped trying to catch your breath only able to speak between pants.

“My…fiance…he’s trying…to kill…me…”

“Ohhhh,” the man spoke and your blood froze, “you poor dear.” Finally your savior was revealed under the pale waning lantern light, Lestat’s face was once again above you his lips drawn back to reveal sharp pointed fangs.

“No,” you screamed fighting to get away but he held tightly leaving bruises on your arms.

“Don’t worry love it’ll be all over soon,” he snarled gleefully. Fangs sunk into your neck piercing the artery in your neck. Blood gushed from your wound and down Lestat’s throat. At your scream all the lanterns were snuffed leaving you in darkness as the man you had thought would be your forever drained your life leaving you nothing but a dried husk to be found in the sickly rays of sunlight.

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

Black lace and property damage

Summary: With your messy work hours, Bucky’s consistently inconsistent mission schedule, and those basic life tasks you’re both ignoring (when was the last time he actually bought a new toothbrush?), the simple act of just being together has been shunted to the side. Bucky’s officially starting to panic.  

Characters: Bucky x Reader Warnings: SMUT, 18+. Sweet sex, awkward sex, some dirty sex, some sex on a car. Basically sex. Swearing. Bucky wearing a white t-shirt and dog tags. My sketchy automotive knowledge.

A/N: This story is sort of an ode to anyone struggling to make time for your person. Life gets busy, so don’t be afraid to get creative. Also sometimes sex goes smooth and perfect, but often it comes with mishaps and giggles. Both ways are great, Bucky says just roll with it!

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

The porch light above the front door is out.

Was he supposed to change that before he left?

--

“I’m not touching it Bucky, there are spiders up there. Big ones. The kind that give you rabies.”

“Spiders don’t have rabies.”

“No one’s ever proven that.”

--

Dammit. Yeah, he was.

Picturing you stumbling up the porch, using the pathetic flashlight on your phone to light the way, Bucky feels like a world class, Grade A jackass. He needs to make it up to you.

Good thing he has plenty of ideas for that.

“Please be home,” he mutters, “please be home, please dear god be fucking home.”

Fingers crossed, he kicks the door open and calls out a hopeful hello.

An empty echo returns.

Bucky blows out a frustrated breath.

Figures.

Slogging down the dark hallway, he slings his bag on the kitchen table with a thud. Grenade pins, bullet casings, fun size candy bar wrappers, and handfuls of beer bottle caps rattle loose in the army green canvas and he grimaces.

One of these days, maybe, just fucking maybe, he’ll convince Natasha to stop using his bags as her garbage bin.

Ignoring that disaster zone (a problem for future Bucky), he wanders over to the sink, where he spies a small tableau on the counter. Propped up beside his favorite coffee mug, the one with sparkly pink letters proclaiming “Bitch, I’m Fabulous”, is a folded piece of paper, his name scrawled across the front.

He flips it open.

“Hey Bucky Bear. Don’t let your sexy ass fall asleep before I get home, I have a surprise!”

Drawn under your bubbly letters, he finds two stick figures entangled in an outrageously lewd sex act. Tracing tender fingers over the very obviously male stick figure (you never were very subtle), he grins so hard his cheeks ache. Leaning on the counter, he sniffs the letter because he’s a sentimental sap and it smells like your Cherry-Almond lotion, and drops his head in his arms.

“So tired,” he whines softly, voice muffled against sleek granite.

Three weeks. That was the last mission. Three weeks, even though Steve guaranteed Bucky three days max. Of course, two days into the mission Bucky remembered that Steve Rogers is an accomplished liar, so instead he spent three exhausting weeks dodging bullets, rewashing all his underwear, and hysterically rationing his bag of fun size candy bars.

Finally home, he wants to forget everything and sink into the post-mission domesticity he dreams about when he’s stuck in some dank motel on the corner of Fuck This and No One Cares. The routine is simple. A scalding hot shower, burrito wrapping himself in the feather duvet, making out with you for a few hours, taking a break to eat some pizza, and then fucking you so hard he breaks the brand new headboard he made for you last month (actually the third headboard he’s made...a fact he smugly reports to anyone and everyone).

And after all that fun, he wants to sleep. Maybe two full days. Or five. Tops.

Is that asking too much?

“No,” he sighs out loud. “It’s not.”

Carefully folding the cartoon and your sweet message, he kisses the paper and tucks it in his back pocket.

No way he’s falling asleep before he sees you. Nope. Nada. Negative. Totally not happening.

Pepping himself up, he goes to work, whizzing through his homecoming task list.

Blood-stained tac clothes go in the washer with three cups of bleach. Guns and knives are wiped down and polished. The contents of the dirty green canvas bag are unceremoniously trashed. The spider infested porch light is changed (with only three furry sightings). The shower is set to a blistering temp and he hangs out in there for an hour, soaping his hair into a foamy mohawk, belting out a few showtunes with his shampoo bottle microphone.

Scrubbed fresh and clean, he flops on the bed with his Starkpad and opens up Netflix, searching for something to keep him awake. Several scrolls later, he finds Brooklyn 99 and settles in for a laugh.

Confident in his ability to resist the appealing pull of sleep scratching at his brain, he takes a slurp of the Super Double Big Gulp sized coffee on his nightstand and stretches his eyes wide open.

Staying awake. Piece of cake.

Ten minutes later, Bucky’s fast asleep.

*****

When his eyes pop open, the room is dark. He feels tipsy, sleep drunk on his first uninterrupted hours of rest in weeks.

Beside him, he feels the cozy pressure of another body. Glancing down, he finds you curled under the sheets at his side, your face smushed against his arm, steady breaths fogging the gleaming metal.

Asleep.

Bucky grits his teeth. Squeezes his eyes shut. One thing. You asked him to do one thing.

God. Dammit.

Furious with his lame old man ass, he almost wakes you up. Almost. But then he swallows that desire and thinks.

Before he got married, Bucky read every relationship advice book under the sun. He gets the importance of keeping the romance alive. He knows you need to cherish your person, make them a priority, shower them with love. He knows. He gets it. He watches Oprah, for fuck’s sake. Relationships take work.

But lately? This is life.

With your messy work hours, Bucky’s consistently inconsistent mission schedule, and those basic life tasks you’re both ignoring (when was the last time he actually bought a new toothbrush?), the simple act of just being together has been shunted to the side.

Bucky’s officially starting to panic.

Although, he muses, eyes lingering on the innocent curve of your mouth, the chaos has forced both of you to get more…creative.

He grins.

It was you who instigated it the first time. He was lying in a dingy motel bed when you nervously offered.

--

“Hey, um…do think maybe you’d…like…would you…uh…”

“Spit it out babe.”

“Doyouwannatryphonesex?”

--

An anxious slur so fast, he nearly misses the question. He remembers that beat of hesitation, before you dove in headfirst, telling him in obscenely explicit detail exactly what you wanted to do to him. He was so shocked he dropped the phone and had to naked crawl under the grimy mattress to fish it out.

He must’ve jerked off five times that night. Replaying your filthy words. Remembering the quiet whimpers as you came on your fingers, gasping out his name. What a treat.

Sexting soon followed, accompanied by a plethora of nudes. None from you of course, because as you always remind him, you’re a lady, but Bucky? He gets irrational joy from sending them. They come in a variety of close-ups and poses, several which Sam accidentally discovered when he walked in on Bucky prancing around naked, searching for his best angle.

Sam always knocks now.

But sometimes words and pictures aren’t enough. Sometimes you need the soothing weight of someone in your arms. The scent of sweaty skin beneath your nose. Hot breaths of pleasure in your ear and the touch of a cool tongue licking across a heated body.

Sometimes he just needs you.

Could he wake you up? Sure. He knows you wouldn’t mind, you’ve told him a thousand times. But he also knows how tired you’ve been, and he can’t bring himself to shake you awake, selfishly stealing those bits of recovery you need.

So instead, he searches for something to keep him occupied.

He tries reading Game of Thrones again and gets nowhere. Thinks yet again someone needs to get George R.R. Martin an editor.

He flicks on his phone and covertly watches PornHub on mute. Seriously debates whether he can get away with jerking off while you’re sleeping because hey, Bucky Barnes is nothing if not stealthy.

He stares up at the ceiling and tries to see how long he can hold his breath. He gets 2 minutes and 8 seconds (a new record) before giving up.

In the end, he rolls onto his side stares intently at you. Wills you to wake up on your own. Come on baby, please.

But nothing works, and when sleep still doesn’t come, he decides to be productive. Crawling carefully from the bed, he smothers a laugh when you curl instantly into the warm mattress dip of his body, burrowing further under the blankets and unconsciously stealing his pillow. Most mornings Bucky wakes up hanging off the bed, no blankets or pillows to his name, while you’re swathed in comfort, cold toes shoved beneath his belly.

Maybe he should be annoyed. Except every time he looks at you, he forgets how to scowl.

Love is weird.

Rummaging silently through the closet, he unearths a threadbare pair of jeans and an oil stained t-shirt, slips into his worn leather boots. He drops a light kiss on your forehead, brushing a finger down the curve of your neck. Smiles to himself when you snuffle a quiet snore.

And he heads out the backdoor, down the weatherworn brick to the garage out back.

It was an added bonus when he bought the house. An unanticipated domestic perk. Hell, he never thought he’d find someone would actually date him, let alone someone who wanted to marry him and buy a house with him and accept his penchant for hoarding things in a rickety old garage (come on, I grew up in the Depression and I need this, he whines every time you take him to Target).  

Thank god you said yes. He’s the luckiest jerk in the world.

Flicking on the garage light, Bucky still gets a little thrill. The entire place is an homage to eclectic, random artifacts, from the box of ugly 1970s vases he found at a flea market, to the fishing equipment he insisted on buying and has yet to use, to the sack of broken seashells you drunkenly collected on your honeymoon in Costa Rica.

In the midst of the swirl sits his pride and joy. Cherry red paint, black leather seats, a tad dusty, full of potential.

The 1969 Camaro looks like a teenage wet dream.

He remembers the day he brought it home, that surge of macho pride when your eyes lit up. After you slapped his ass and told him how sexy the car was, he reveled in your admiration for maybe 10 seconds, before hauling you back to the house and under the sheets. Took several hours before you both came up for air.

That was a good time, he thinks dreamily.

The car attracted his friends as well. Sam and Steve brought over a celebratory case of beer and stood by while Bucky explained the changes he had planned. Steve gave a few sage nods, while Sam helpfully threw out words like fuel injector now and then. Neither had a fucking clue what was happening, but Bucky graciously let them fake it.

Tony also saw the car once. Got a fervent gleam in his eye and started to say the phrase jet fuel, before Bucky ushered him out the door. Tony doesn’t get to see the car anymore.

There are still plenty of fixes to make, but for tonight he takes it easy. Flips on the ancient radio perched above the workbench and flops down on a rolling seat, sliding under the Camaro to tinker around. He goes to work, lets the crackle of the radio and the mechanical puzzle lull him into focus mode.  

So intent on the task at hand, he barely hears the garage door opening.

The click of a shoe alerts him too late and he freezes, gripping his wrench tight. Muscles tense, garage floor plans and fight scenarios flooding his brain.

“Bucky? Do you have a sec?”

His breath whooshes in relief at your voice. A silly grin bubbles up because you’re finally awake, until he tilts his head sideways, peering out from under the car to see your feet.

Black high heels.

Stomach sinking, Bucky closes his eyes. Back to work then. Motherfucker. He missed his chance again.

Swallowing down the bitter disappointment, he croaks out a plea.

“Hey babe, do you gotta go back to the office so soon? Can you just - “

Click click and you step between his legs. Firm hands clutch the oil stained fabric at his knees and you pull. The seat rolls easily and he slides free, squinting up at you in the dim light.

The words die on his lips.

Black high heels, yes.

And.

Lacy black underwear, the sides held together with thick satin ribbons. A lacy black bra, your breasts threatening to spill out.

Gorgeous, devilish smile.

Fingering the wide satin bow between your breasts, you tease a light tug and Bucky starts sweating like a virgin on prom night. His wrench slips from numb fingers, thunking him in the nuts and clattering away.

“Shit,” he grunts. There’s a moment of confusion on whether the fresh ache in his balls is from the punch of the wrench, or tantalizing swathes of skin before him, but then you say his name and he figures it out pretty fucking fast.

“Hey Bucky Bear,” you purr, in that raspy voice he loves. “Still want that surprise I promised?”

Palming himself roughly, Bucky adjusts the suddenly tight front of his jeans, eyeing you with a lusty smile. Fuck yes, he wants his surprise. He wants everything about you.

“You bet your sweet ass I do. What’d you have in mind?”

“I have some ideas,” you say playfully. Stepping closer, slipping your fingers into his silky hair, he leans into the touch. “And I promise we’ll get to them. But first, how about you stay down there and maybe show me how much you missed me?”

Torn, Bucky looks down at his oil stained fingers. They spasm, clutching the edge of the seat so tight the metal bends. His voice drops several octaves.

“Babe, I - shit, I’m gonna kill the mood here, but my hands are all dirty, I should wash ‘em first,” he apologizes. Rolling your eyes, you shift closer until the edge of his nose is a mere inch from the delicate lace panties.

“I’m not asking for your hands, soldier. You have a mouth. Get creative.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. Sassy and domineering? And nearly naked?

Hell yes, his dick shouts. Here we fucking go.

Warm and cool, tentative fingertips press into the smooth skin behind your knees, stroking higher until he’s plucking the satin ribbons and pulling. It feels like Christmas morning when the knot slowly breaks apart, whispers of satin and lace floating to the ground.

Nosing against your core, he inhales, long and deep. A low growl rumbles, rough hands gripping your hips tight and heat explodes across your skin when his tongue presses into your folds, licking over your clit.

“God,” your moan is dark, desperately breathless, “keep - that feels so good, Bucky, keep going, please, been way too long.”

Bucky gives a fervent nod of agreement, strands of his dark hair tickling your thighs. When was the last time he did this? Nah, you know what? If he has to ask, it’s been too long.

From now on, the only correct answer should be every damn day.

He feels you moving his head, guiding him exactly where you need him most, and he hums hungrily. Shoves his tongue deeper. He adores when you take charge, using him, his mouth or his fingers or his dick, to get yourself off. He loves it, dreams about it, wishes you would let him film it just one time (because sometimes missions last three weeks not three days Steve).

But until then, he devotes himself to making it perfect because you deserve perfect.

Fast, firm flicks of the tongue. Long, leisurely strokes, licking you slow and sweet. Rough pressure, his plush pink lips sucking tight around your clit. So good.

Your eyes fall closed as his tongue moves faster, quicker, pushing you closer closer closer -  

No, that won’t do. Cold metal lightly pinches your ass, a bid for attention. Chest heaving, you open your eyes.

Bright eyed and eager, Bucky gazes up from between your legs, looking thoroughly debauched. White t-shirt stretched tight across broad shoulders, dark hair mussed in your fingers, an obvious erection straining his jeans.

So close, you’re so close, right on the edge, just another second -

He knows, of course. Could always play you like a fiddle. He cocks a challenging eyebrow, sucks your clit between his teeth -

“Oh god, Bucky, fuck,” you moan. Weak knees buckle and his hands clutch your ass, keeping you upright and open. He never stops licking, swirling that talented tongue to draw out the bursts and shocks of pleasure until you’re gasping. When he’s wrung every drop from you, he kisses the sensitive bud and tips his head back with an arrogant smirk.

Legs like jelly, you promptly collapse into his lap.

The momentum of the fall sends the rolling seat flying. Busy being chivalrous and keeping you from tumbling headfirst onto dirty concrete, Bucky lets the wheels send him whizzing backward. His head smacks the door handle with a sharp thwack.

“Ow,” he grunts.

“Sorry,” you pant. Struggling for breath, wrapped in the haze of post orgasm bliss, you cuddle against him, soaking up his warmth. “Want me to rub it?”

Massaging his head, he wrinkles his nose. “Maybe. Depends on what you’re offering to rub.”

“Dealer’s choice,” you sass, and Bucky barks out a laugh. Wandering hands skim lightly over your shoulders, fingering the straps of the lacy bra, feather light trails along your collarbone, to the satin bow between your breaks. Tugging impatiently, he smiles when it unwinds, your breasts spilling free.

“Well, how about I take my pants off, we get in the backseat of this car, and you rub whatever you find.”

“Intriguing. What happens after I finish rubbing whatever…pokes my fancy?”

Bucky dips his head, takes your nipple between his lips, sucking gently. The feel of his wet mouth has you squirming closer until he pauses to offer an option.

“Maybe we fuck like a couple horny teenagers?”

“You’re killing me with the romance here, Barnes,” you say drily and he chuckles. “But I was maybe thinking something different.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?”

Licking a lazy strip between your breasts, he kisses up, up, up, until his tongue finds the hammering pulse of your heartbeat. Bemused, he hears your voice falter, before bravely offering your idea.

“I was thinking maybe I sit on the hood of your pretty red car, and – and you spread my legs and fuck me so good, I can’t walk for a week.”

Startled, Bucky pulls back. Excitement explodes in his chest.

“You - really? Seriously? That’s what you want?”

“Yep,” you confirm, palpable relief at successfully executing the dirty request. “That’s exactly what I want.”

Bucky plants a sloppy kiss on the tip of your nose. Wiggles his eyebrows and winks.

“Well god damn. You got it sweet cheeks.”

Wasting no time, he pushes off the ground and you kick your heels off, wrapping your legs around his waist. He huffs out a blissful moan when you suck a string of hickeys down his neck, grinding against you as he stumbles to the front of the car. Without thinking, he drops you on the shiny red hood and -

“Cold!”

Icy metal meets your bare ass. There’s a panicked scramble back into his arms and he manages to catch you, until your flailing upper cut cracks his jaw. It sends him off balance, tripping forward to smack his kneecaps on the Camaro’s fancy new grill. A grating screech tears the air and the grill rattles to the floor, the metallic clang bouncing off the walls.

Flinching, you peer up at him as it fades away.

Bucky’s nose twitches.

In all his fantasies (and there are many, because you are one sexy piece of ass), this shit never happens. Every sexcapade is effortlessly smooth, sensual and steamy, where you both look great, not a hair out of place, no oil-stained hands or unintended destruction of expensive vintage cars.

In reality, it seems like something always goes sideways. One of his nipples gets gouged by your fingernail or the silk from your negligee gets caught in the plates of his arm, or one of his perfectly aimed thrusts sends you both toppling off the bed. Sometimes he wonders if this is just the two of you? Do other people have perfectly orchestrated sex lives? Is porn not a true mirror of real life?

Is porn a lie?

Maybe he should watch more porn and form a more educated opinion.

For now, he takes in your crestfallen expression, vehemently shaking his head when you try to apologize.

“Buck, I’m sorry, I -“

Holding up a stern hand, he stops you cold. Sets you on your feet, gallantly whipping off his shirt, and spreading it on the shiny red paint. This time when he sets you on the hood, you lay back until the familiar scent of his cologne hugs you close. Bucky lifts your feet, propping each on the hood, spreading your legs open. He leans in close, a pink flush spreading over his chest, crawling up his throat, blue eyes turning dark.  

“Listen to me. Don’t ever apologize, okay? You’re worth more than this old junker.” A crooked smile tilts his mouth, his voice as soft as the lips now brushing yours. “You’re priceless. You understand?”

“Okay,” you murmur. Fingers dance lightly up the hard planes of his stomach, wrapping around the chain of his old dog tags. “I understand.”  

Bucky nods, watching your eyes drift down, drinking him up. He lives for that look. Sets him on fire, to watch you ogle him. When your eyes skate down his right side, he flexes his forearm a bit, because he knows it turns you on.   

A swift tug of the chain and he dips easily, mouth slanting over yours. There’s a faint sound of teeth clacking together, and he stifles a laugh at your excitement. Deep kisses, stoking that simmering fire sitting right below the surface. Your lips part and he slides inside, curling his tongue around yours, pulling away to lick along the corner of your mouth, to suck your bottom lip between his teeth.

The thought appears, same as when he had his mouth between your legs. How long has it been since the two of you just made out like this? Same answer? Too fucking long?

This is definitely happening more often.  

He feels your eager fingers reach for the button of his jeans, popping it open, slipping your hand inside. Cool fingers wrap tight around his cock, the other hand wandering down to squeeze a handful of his ass. Bucky hurriedly shimmies his pants to his knees, sets both hands on the car and leans forward, tipping his face down, touching his forehead to yours. Blue eyes flutter closed, breath hitching while he concentrates on the feel of your capable hands, slow strokes along his length, slicker with each tug.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he grits out. “Can you - damn that’s good - can you, there, bit lower -“

Ragged pants melt into a low groan when you slip your hand from the death grip on his ass to cup his balls, rolling them against your palm.

“Like that?”

“Yeah, yeah, yes, fuck yes, just like that,” he hisses, thrusting into your hands. “Can you - can you pull just a little-“

He stammers the question, ignoring your amused hum. It was a quirk, one he discovered early in the relationship. It came out of the blue, a bashful request during a romp in the sheets, but for some reason, Bucky has a thing for having his balls tugged. Not hard (which was also discovered after an unconsciously rough yank had him squealing in pain), but more of a soft squeeze, followed by a slow pull.

Like how you squeeze an overripe banana, he had explained later, gingerly massaging his balls. Not so hard it squishes.

Many entertaining attempts later, and he swears you have the move patented. Stroking his dick faster, your thumb presses over his balls, before a careful pull. Tipping his head back, Bucky stares glass eyed at the ceiling, lost in pleasure, pushing himself into your firm grip.  

“Feel good?” you murmur.

“Yeah. Yes, so good, so god damn good ,” he chokes out. Faster, harder, faster - and then a strangled gasp and panicked blue eyes catch yours. “Wait, too good, it’s too good! Don’t wanna come yet, hang on! Need to be inside you first.”

He grabs your wrists, the thwarted sting of a denied orgasm obvious in the grind of his teeth. Both of you look down to where your hands are wrapped around him, one still kneading his balls, the other curled around the velvety hot skin of his cock.

“Okay,” you say, looking him up and down. “Fine, but - you’re so sexy, Bucky. And I love your balls.”

Bucky nods furiously, gulping a deep lungful of air. His ass cheeks are twitching.

“I love that you love them, I really do. But babe, I need you to let go of my balls or I’ll come all over your hand,” he rasps, wiggling away. Releasing him, your hands run up his chest, twining around his neck, dragging his sweat damp chest flush against you.

“If I must,” you agree, smiling into his lips. Bucky relaxes into you, the slow melt of tongues follows, the kind where a kiss bounces around, until it finds the perfect rhythm. His hands trace up the line of your arms, unlocking your fingers and pulling them free. Brushing his thumbs over your wrists, he bends close, kisses your knuckles.

And then he folds your arms above your head, pinning them down.  

“Keep them there, alright? Don’t move until I say you can.”

“Kinky. Yes sir,” you breathe. He smirks.

“You’d better watch it, you little deviant. I might get used to that.”

“Sorry…sir.”

Pulling you further down the hood, he rubs his cock between your legs, sliding himself between your folds until a slick sheen coats his skin. It startles a grunt from you when he abruptly shoves inside, sinking deep until his hips press flush to yours.  

He waits. Has to wait actually, because its been a long damn time and if he’s not careful he’s going to embarrass himself before he even gets started and holy shit, is this even real life? Is he dreaming?

Splayed out on the hood of his car, legs wide open, breasts wet from his tongue, black lace and crumpled satin ribbons. Arms pinned above the luscious skin bared just for him. Bucky stares between your legs, dry mouthed and dizzy.

“Come on, Bucky, please? Fuck me, please fuck me, I missed you so much.”

How could he ever resist this? You naked, writhing against the vivid red of his Camaro, moaning for him to fuck you, with his cock buried in your -

“Aw fucking hell,” he mutters. After so many weeks apart, he knows full well this won’t last long. It’s a damn good thing he has more than a few rounds in him.

Cracking his neck, rolling his shoulders back, he digs thick fingers into your thighs, pulls back nice and slow. He waits. Waits. Waits a bit longer because he likes to be an asshole and hear you beg.

“Bucky, come on -”

And he plunges into you, burying himself in the tight, silky heat of your cunt. Warm up over, no slow start. The pace he sets is rough, so deep he feels the pleasure licking down his spine and into his toes. Over and over, he slams into you until one particularly sharp thrust presses the tip of his cock against that perfect spot inside and you arch up with a broken cry. Hands scrabble above your heard, searching for anything to hold onto, finding something flexible.

With a plastic snap, the windshield wiper blade breaks off in your hand.

Bucky stutters to a halt, blinking sweat from his eyes when he sees the look of horror on your face. The apology is still forming when he snatches the plastic from your fingers, throwing it aside.

“Don’t care,” he grunts. Giving you no time to argue, he wraps his hands behind your knees and raises your hips, fucking into you faster. The filthy echo of sweat slick skin accompanies his breathless order. “Touch yourself. Let me watch.”

A frantic agreement and one hand slips between your legs, the other cupping your breast. Frantic circles over the swollen bud, trembling fingers plucking at a pebbled nipple. Bucky watches greedily, eyes flickering back and forth, memorizing those things that bring you pleasure, fantastically dirty memories to replay on a rainy day.

“Bucky,” desperate fingers rub your clit faster. “Keep going, please keep - keep doing that, I’m close, I’m so close, I’m -“

Sharp and sweet and unexpected, the orgasm crashes into you. Arching up, the low moan tears free, and Bucky slows, hypnotized by the sight of you shuddering beneath him.

“There you go, that’s it,” he urges hoarsely, before surging forward and capturing your lips in a wild kiss. Two more pumps of his hips and he stops, grinding against you until he comes with a heavy groan.

Silence fills the room, broken only with the sounds of harsh breaths and the wet rush of his heartbeat thumping in his ears. He rests his forehead between your breasts, listening to the staccato beat of your quick breaths, until you struggle up onto your elbows, pushing his sweaty hair away from his face.

“So I broke your car.”

He says nothing, but a moment later his shoulders begin to shake and suddenly he’s laughing, great rushing wheezes as he struggles for breath. Raising his head, he finds you nervously squinting down at him. He stretches up, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“I got insurance. Just need to check my coverage for mildly destructive ‘I missed you’ sex.”

“You might consider expanding that policy. I’m just saying,” you suggest with a giggle and he snorts.

Quiet contentment blankets the stuffy garage, both of you basking in that tingly afterglow. Folding your hands behind his neck, you draw him close and Bucky nuzzles into the crook of your neck.

“Been tough lately,” he whispers, mouthing gently along your throat. “Trying to find time together.”

Nodding slowly, your smile turns wistful.

“Yeah…guess it makes any time we get even better. Right? It doesn’t matter to me what we do, as long as we’re doing it together.”

Bucky feels a lump in his throat (the kind that could easily dissolve into manly super soldier tears), and he gathers you in his arms, tucking you against his chest. When he answers, his voice cracks just a bit.

“Someone’s a sentimental sap.”

He hears your muffled laugh against his chest, feels you bite at his collarbone and he chuckles.

“I love you Bucky. And I’m really sorry I murdered your car.”

“I love you too, babe. I’m glad you came down here. Especially in that outfit.”

“Yeah? You liked it?”

“Fuck yes I did. What spurred that idea, hmm?”

“I just don’t want to lose our spark,” you admit, snuggling closer. “When things get so busy, it’s easy to let things like this slide, and I don’t want you to - get bored, I guess. With us.”

Bucky thinks about all his relationship advice articles and the fact that he sometimes even prints them out and goes through with a yellow highlighter to capture the key points. Hearing your soft concern makes him fall even more in love with you.

Because this is important. This relationship, this love, this spark he was lucky enough to find with you, it’s the most important thing in his world. You are the most important thing in his world.

Brushing a knuckle down your cheek, he coaxes your chin up.

“I know it’s tough, always being on different schedules, but I want you to know, I’m always gonna love you and I’m always gonna want you. Nothing changes that. And if you ever doubt just how much I genuinely want to bang you all night long, then you say something. Deal?”

He boops your nose and you grin.

“Deal.”

“And honey, not that I’m complaining, trust me, but you don’t need to dress sexy to get me all reved up,” he shrugs. “You do that just by looking at me.”

“You do know how to charm the pants off a lady, Barnes.”

He throws his head back and laughs. Swings you up in his arms and calms your startled yelp with a kiss.

“Damn straight. Now how about we give that backseat a try. I think you mentioned wanting to rub something back there?”

*****

[noladyme]

My Only Sunshine - Chapter 8 FINAL CHAPTER

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

CHAPTER 7

I had my first shift back at Merlotte’s a few days later; having needed to wind down a bit. I hadn’t called or texted anyone to let them know exactly when I’d be back, so when I arrived at work, my friends rushed over to greet me. I noticed Sam examining my exposed skin for fang-marks , and was happy Eric had helped me rid of them. I couldn’t take a telling off from Sam right now; still too raw from my trip to Dallas. When he was satisfied, I wasn’t hurt, he gave me a warm hug. Sookie was next, and gave me a secret empathetic smile. “I just want to get back to work”, I said. “Back to normal”. “Did something happen to you in Dallas, cher’?”, Sam asked. “You look like you’ve been through it”. “No… nothing like that. Just jet-lagged from vamp-time”, I smiled. He nodded disbelievingly. “Any more… pictures show up here?”. “No. Nothing”, he replied. I sighed in relief. “Good. I’ll just go do, what you pay me to do, now”. I walked off, feeling both his and Sookie’s eyes on my back as I went.

I was happy to be back in flats, as I didn’t have any vamp-blood to heal my blisters. The lack of heels didn’t stop Jason from checking out my ass, as I came over to serve him and his crew their food. “Hey Liv! I hear you’ve been in Dallas. You running away from us permanently?”, he asked. “Nope. I’m in Bon Temps for the long haul”, I smiled. “Good, ‘cuz I’ve been thinking… You and I never did go on that date…”. I patted his cheek. “And we never will, Jason. You’re too much man to handle, big guy”. He leaned back in his seat, and smirked at me flirtatiously. “Nah, I think you can take it”. “Never gonna happen, Stackhouse”, I called over my shoulder, as I walked away.

Just after sundown, Bill showed up. After having kissed Sookie, he took me by surprise, by leaning in to give me a half hug. “I am glad to sae you unharmed”, he said. “We’re you really that worried?”, I asked. “I’ve been fine”. Bill lowered his voice for discretion. “But that phone call. Eric said…”. I felt tears forming in my eyes. “Liv doesn’t want to talk about that, Bill”, Sookie said. “But…”, Bill tried. “Please…”, I croaked. “Sook’, can you take care of my tables for a minute? I need some air…”. Sookie nodded, and patted my back, before I slipped out the back door.

The night was chilly for once; and I felt goosebumps form on my exposed arms and legs. I was feeling ridiculous for crying, but couldn’t help myself. Bill came out to join me. “I am terribly sorry. I didn’t realize I’d cause such pain to you by speaking of…”. “It’s fine, Bill. You couldn’t know”, I said, and accepted the handkerchief he handed me. I took a deep breath, and leaned my back against the wall next to the dumpster; grabbing a cigarette from my fanny pack, and lighting it. “Can I ask you a vampire question?”, I said. “Of course!”, he responded. I chewed my lip nervously. “What does it mean when a vampire wants to make a human theirs?”.

Bill thought for a moment. “Well, when a vampire wants to lay claim to a human, so that no other vampire can; he or she will do so by simply proclaiming it”. “You don’t ask the human?”, I said wonderingly. “Not usually, no”. “But what about what the human wants? What if they don’t want to belong to the vampire?”. Bill shrugged. “After the great reveal, consensual relationships between humans and vampires are much more common… obviously. In Sookie’s and my case, if she wanted to discontinue our relationship…”. He seemed pained at the thought. “Well, I would let her go. But she would still be mine, when it came to other vampires wanting to feed from her, or have… relations with her. I’ve claimed her…”. “Huh…”, I muttered.

“I take it Eric has claimed you…”, Bill said, distaste clear in his voice. “No”, I said. He frowned in confusion. “Why?”. I took a draw from my smoke, and looked at him earnestly. “Because I said no”. Bills jaw literally dropped, and I saw more of the white in his eyes than I ever had before. “And he… accepted that?”. I nodded. “Are you sure we are talking about the same Eric Northman? He is the kind of vampire who takes what he wants”. “Not me… I guess he didn’t want me that bad”, I muttered, and took another draw from my cigarette. I wasn’t sure about the truth of my own words. Eric had asked me, which was apparently out of character for him; but I didn’t dare let myself believe that there was a deeper meaning to his behavior.

Bill seemed unable to come up with a proper reply, and instead decided to pat my shoulder. Suddenly, he froze in place, looking towards the trees. “What’s wrong?”, I asked. “I don’t know…”, he said quietly. “I saw something”. I felt the hair at the back of my neck stand up straight. “What kind of something?”. “I am not sure… It’s probably nothing. No need to worry. Please tell Sookie I will be back to escort her home”. He was gone within a second, only leaving a gush of wind that made the smell of the dumpster hit my nose. I cringed, and went back inside. After relaying Bills words to Sookie, I got back to work.

As late as it was, there were fewer orders for food; as people had turned to alcohol instead. I went back and forth between the bar for a few hours, serving gin & tonics, beers and whiskey sours to the good and less than good people of Bon Temps. After a while, I finally felt able to push my trip to Dallas to the back of my mind; and focus on just being present where I was. Just before last call, Sam came up to me with a tray with two pink drinks. “Watermelon margaritas…”, he shrugged. “Never made one before, but the guy in the corner insisted on it. Wanted you to bring them”.

I spun around, and looked towards the corner booth; where Thomas was seated, smiling at me. My hands began shaking. “Liv? You ok?”, Sam asked. “You know him?”. “He’s… someone I knew back in San Diego”, I breathed. “Do you need me to take care of it?”. I shook my head fervently. I didn’t know why Thomas was here, but whatever his reason was, I didn’t think he remember having attacked me; and I didn’t want to cause a scene. “I got it…”, I said, and took the tray; walking over to the table.

I set down the drinks in front of Thomas. “Nice to see you again”, he said. “Will there be anything else?”, I asked coldly. “Just some company, if you don’t mind…”, Thomas smiled. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m at work”, I replied. “But I got your favorite drink, Liv… And I sent you those pictures, to remind you of the good times we had”. I met his eyes, which were cold and hard. I looked over my shoulder at Sam, who’d returned to serving the patrons at the bar. “Your vampire friend is gone. My vampire friend took care of that. Now sit down, before I have to do something rash”. He lifted his jacket slightly, letting me see the gun tucked into the waistband of his jeans.

My heart beat 1000 miles per second, and I slowly lowered myself to sit across from Thomas. “What do you want?”, I whispered. “I want to talk to you about what happened that night…”, he replied. “You remember”, I said. Thomas nodded. “How?”. “The vampire friend I mentioned… His blood makes me able to do things, you can’t even imagine”. I shook my head, almost in pity of him. “How much is he plying you with?”. “Enough to make it close to impossible to glamour me”, Thomas grinned. “You know how it is. You can’t be glamoured either. That tall vampire saw to that”. “No… that’s different. Thomas, you have an addiction… a sickness!”, I sighed. “You have to know this is crazy!”.

He jolted forwards, and grabbed both my hands over the table; making it look as if we were holding hands, when in reality, he was hurting me. “What’s crazy is you throwing away a perfectly good guy, and letting some vamp feed on you instead”, he hissed. “You were going to rape me”, I whimpered. “You wanted it! You were practically throwing yourself at me for weeks!”. “No, I wasn’t… I said yes to one date, that was it. I was just being friendly…”. He let go of my hands, and sat back again. “You’re such a fucking slut, you know that? You led me on…”. He grabbed the gun from his waistband, cocked the hammer, and moved it under the table. I felt the barrel press at the inside of my knees. “You probably put out to that vampire in Dallas, didn’t you…? How much did he pay you?”. “Don’t do this, please…”, I whimpered.

Sam rang the bell. “That’s it, folks. Drink up!”. Sookie walked towards Thomas and me. “Don’t say anything. I swear I’ll shoot you, and everyone else in this shithole…”, Thomas hissed, and then suddenly smiled brightly at my approaching friend. Once at the table, Sookie looked questioningly at me. “Who’s your friend, Liv?”, she asked. I smiled as brightly as I could at her; willing her to hear my thoughts. “This is Thomas”, I said. Sookie. He’s dangerous. Listen to his thoughts, please!. “We knew each other in San Diego, and reconnected in Dallas”. Sookie’s eyes flickered, and she stuck out her hand to Thomas; who grabbed it with his free left hand. “Hi there, Thomas!”, she smiled. I saw confusion ghost her face, before she looked back at me. “Liv, could you come help us close up? We’re kind of swamped…”. I hoped she was trying to get me away from Thomas. “Actually… I was hoping to take Liv with me, now. You know, catch up…”, he smiled. “I really need to…”, I began. I felt the barrel of his gun bore into my bare skin. “Come on… We didn’t have a chance to really talk in Dallas”, he said, with an edge to his voice.

Sookie looked down towards the tabletop for a nanosecond. “Do you mind doing us a solid here, Sook’?”, I said. Let us go, Sookie. Please let us go. He’ll kill everyone in here. “I’ll do your prep for you tomorrow”. Sookie nodded. “What should I tell Sam?”, she asked. “Just tell him I’m catching up with a friend”, I smiled. I could see Thomas was getting agitated, and sighed deeply. “We should go…”, I said. Eric… I want Eric. Sookie blinked. “I’ll see you tomorrow”, she said. “Uh huh…”, I croaked. “I will!”, she said, and walked away.

After being satisfied Sookie was far enough away, Thomas slipped the gun into the back of his jeans. “We’re going to walk out of here real calm. Don’t even think about trying anything. I got enough V in me to rip you apart in a second”, he hissed through a smile. Once he got up to stand, I followed, and he put his arm around me; holding on to me tightly. I was too afraid to even look at Sookie or Sam, so simply followed where Thomas led me. I prayed that Sookie had understood my thoughts.

Once out of view of the bar Thomas pushed me towards a black chevy of a newer model, and just as I thought he was about to open the door for me to enter; he struck me over the back of my head, and I was out cold.

---

I don’t know how much time had passed when I woke, but it was still dark. I was lying on the backseat of Thomas’ car, which he’d parked down a gravel road somewhere I didn’t recognize immediately. He was leaning against the car, having one of my cigarettes. I tried to crawl for the door on the opposite side of where he was standing, but he noticed me moving, and opened the door; dragging me by the ankle, out of it. I hit the ground outside; the gravel cutting in to my skin.

Thomas fell to his knees next to me. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you just now!”, he smiled, and stroked my cheek. “That’s not how I want this to go”. I raised my hand to the back of my head, and felt a bump there. “You knocked me out”, I rasped. “I just needed you to go with me, without causing trouble”, he said, and raised me into a seated position. “What are you going to do to me?”, I asked. “You know what I’m going to do… You and I are going to finish what we started a year ago”, he said. I felt tears trickling down my cheeks, as I shook my head. “No…”. “Yes”, Thomas said. “You’re mine”. There was no mercy in his voice. I didn’t have anyone to save me this time. I didn’t have Eric. God, I wanted Eric there, to protect me – to hold me. I shook myself from the thought. If I wanted free, I’d have to help myself.

Grabbing a handful of gravel, I flung it at Thomas’ face. He covered his eyes, and cried out; and I managed to get on my feet, and run down the road. With a roar, Thomas got on his feet, and ran after me. “Get back here, you stupid cunt!”, he growled. I turned, and ran away from the road, through the trees; in hopes that I could find somewhere to hide. I was dizzy and heaving for breath, and knew that sheer speed wouldn’t be what got me away from my attacker. Stumbling over some branches, I fell to my knees, and cried out in pain, as a sharp rock cut in to my palm. “Don’t rouse them ‘gaters!”, Thomas yelled after me, with a mock Louisiana drawl. “Don’t want them getting to you before I do”.

I got on my feet again, and got back to running. Soon, I was recognizing the area. I knew I was near the cemetery between Sookies and Bills houses, and headed in the direction I thought might be right to get to the vampire’s house. Once I saw the fence surrounding the cemetery, I almost cried in relief.

I heard a loud pop, and felt a sharp pain in my thigh; before falling to the ground, just at the entrance to the graveyard. Before long Thomas was stood over me, his gun in hand. He’d shot me. “Why do you have to make this so difficult?”, he growled, and kicked me hard in the stomach. I curled up, heaving for breath. “Stop. Please stop…”, I pleaded. Thomas grabbed a hold of my head, and I put my hands around his wrist, so he wouldn’t tear it at the roots. He dragged me into the cemetery, and threw me on the ground in front of an old gravestone. “No…”, I sobbed. “You like fucking dead people so much, I’ll let you die next to them as well”. He pounded his fist into my chest, making all air leave my lungs. “You’re not even worth it, you bitch”. Blow after blow hit my body, as I struggled to get oxygen into my lungs. Every time Thomas’ fist hit me, he followed it with angry slurs and insults. I tried screaming for help, but in the end, the pain was so extreme I couldn’t make a sound anymore. I was beginning to feel cold, and saw that the wound in my leg was bleeding profusely. I was losing a lot of blood, very fast.

I laid on my back, looking up at the stars, as Thomas continuously pounded at me; when I heard a roar, and Eric came out of the darkness – grabbing Thomas by the neck, and tearing him away from me. Thomas was knocked out when his back hit a nearby gravestone, and Eric ran over to me. “Liv…”, he breathed, and put his hand on my bruised cheek. I coughed up some blood, and he turned me gently, to let me spit it out. “Eric?”, I heard Bills voice call out. “She’s here!”, Eric replied. “She’s hurt bad, but I can heal her… I should have come sooner. I’m sorry, Liv”. His eyes were pained, and I tried to reach for his face. “Don’t move. Just let me…”.

He was grabbed from behind, and thrown away from me. Rose had arrived out of nowhere, and was now doing her best to do some damage to Eric, by biting in to his neck. Eric roared in pain, and Bill came running to help Eric. The two male vampires soon had the upper hand in the fight; but apparently, the plan hadn’t been to win the fight – merely to distract them.

I felt myself get lifted from the ground, and was soon looking in to the eyes of Stan. “Stand down, Northman!”, he growled. Eric immediately released the hold he’d had on Rose, and spun around to face Stan. His eyes were wide in rage and what seemed to be fear. “Stan, let her go”, he said. Rose edged away, to go check on Thomas. “I don’t think so”, Stan said. “This gash cost me my sheriff’s position”.

“Your human is alive”, Rose said, from where she was standing over Thomas. “Fuck him. I don’t need him anymore”, Stan said. “You sure? ‘Cuz I could eat”, Rose smirked. “Knock yourself out”, Stan said. Rose was about to lift Thomas, so that she could bite him, when her chest burst open. She turned in to goo within seconds, revealing Godric behind her; still holding on to her heart. Pam was a few paces behind him. “Sorry we’re late”, she smiled. “Godrics plane just landed”.

Godric took a few slow steps towards Stan. “Stay back!”, Stan said; spinning me around, so my back was to his chest. He grabbed my head, and tilted it to the side. I didn’t have the strength to fight him off. “I’ll snap her neck”. “Not before I rip your head off!”, Eric hissed. Stan simply laughed coldly. “Stan. This isn’t the way…”, Godric said. “You will not get back in the good graces of the authority by killing this woman”. “Fuck the authority. Fuck all of you… Kneeling to lesser beings? You should be ashamed!”. “No one is kneeling”, Godric said. Eric, Pam and Bill gave each other a look, and began flanking Stan and I. “We are simply coexisting”.

Stans grip around my chest was so tight, that I began sobbing in pain again. “See that? They’re weak… below us!”, he said. “She was important enough for the magister to want her to stay alive”, Godric said. “And why is that?”, Stan asked. “What is she? She does smell interesting”. He lowered his nose to a cut over my brow. I heard Eric growl, and Stan chuckled in response. “I told you I would have a taste!”. “I’m going to kill you”, Eric roared. Stan knew his time was up. He was outnumbered; and at least two of the vampires present, had hundreds of years on him. “Then I might as well go out a happy vampire”, he said. Stan sunk his fangs into me, and sucked. “Nej!”, I heard Eric cry out in an agonized voice.

Stans bite wasn’t sensual as Erics had been. It was like being torn open, and literally eaten alive. My neck was burning from the bite, and my eyes rolled back in my head in agony. Then suddenly, he dropped my body to the ground. Everything became foggy. I could just make out, as Pam, Bill and Eric attacked Stan. I thought I saw Pam and Bill hold Stan down, as Eric grabbed his head, and tore it clean from his body; before he became the same kind of goo that Rose’s had.

I was hardly breathing – couldn’t even feel any pain anymore – and I knew I was dying. A pair of strong arms cradled me, and I forced myself to focus on Erics face. “I have to heal her”, he said. “It’s too late, Eric… she lost too much blood”, Bill said with a pained voice. “I’m so sorry, Liv…”. Eric met my eyes, looking like he’d never be happy again. “Stay with me”, he breathed, and pressed his lips to mine. “Snälla Liv… mit solsken…”. I wanted nothing but to embrace him. Make him smile again. “Y-yours…”, I rasped. “Yours…”. A bloody tear escaped Erics eye, and a pained smile forced itself to his lips. “Mine…”, he whispered, and stroked my temple; when his expression became determined.

Pam came over, and put a hand on his shoulder. “The sun will be up soon”, she said. “We have to go”. Eric looked at her with hard eyes. “Dig a hole”, he said. “Eric…”, Bill said warily. “Are you sure…?”. “I said, dig a fucking hole!”. Bill and Pam disappeared from sight, and Godric put a hand on the top of Erics head. Their eyes locked for a second, before Godric disappeared in the direction the others had went.

My breathing had become a rattling, and Eric pulled me impossibly closer to him. “No… not yet. You have to drink”. Extracting his fangs, he bit in to his wrist, and put it to my lips. I didn’t have the strength to suck; so simply looked into Erics eyes, as his blood flowed into my mouth, and down my throat. Before long, the wounds closed, and Eric bit into his skin again; repeating the process.

I used my last ounce of energy to lift the corners of my lips into a soft smile; losing myself in Erics blue eyes, before everything went black.

“Min Liv… mit liv”.

---

I couldn’t move. I was held down by some unknown force, and everything was blackness. My face was pressed against something both firm and soft, leaving very little room for me to breathe; which I realized was futile anyway, as there wasn’t any air to be had. Someone was holding on to me firmly but gently, and I knew the embrace. I’d been in it before.

With the tiny bit of air in my lungs still there, I tried to speak. “Eric…”. It came out as a peep; but must have woken him, because I felt him move. Panic began to take me over, and I tried to move myself. I needed air, soon. Eric used all his strength to break through what was holding us down – dirt, I realized. We’d been buried. Just as I was about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, Eric grabbed my wrists and pulled me out of the ground after him.

I took a deep heaving breath, and then coughed. Eric was wiping the dirt out of my face, so I could meet his eyes. “Liv…”, he breathed. He was dirty, just like me; but it didn’t take away from his beauty. The dim light of the moon, made him almost shimmer over me. Eric held me against him, and stroked my cheek smilingly for a few seconds – kissing my forehead – before a confused expression took over. He began running his palm over my exposed skin, his cool hand in sharp contrast to my warmth, as he seemingly examined me. “What happened?”, I croaked. Suddenly Pam was next to us, almost looking happy to see me; before she also frowned – her eyes wary. “Where’s Godric?”, Eric demanded. “In the house”, Pam said. Eric got on his feet, and picked me up in his arms. Without speaking, he carried me out of the graveyard, and towards Bills large house. “Eric, what’s happening?”, I asked quietly. He didn’t respond, but simply carried me over the threshold as Pam opened the door; and in to the living room.

Sookie, Bill and Godric were seated there, and all got up to stand, when Eric entered the room with me. Bill parted his lips and widened his eyes when he saw me; whereas Godric looked like he was looking at something completely normal. “Liv!”, Sookie cried out, and ran towards Eric to greet me. Bill grabbed her arm and held her back. “Careful…”, he said.

Eric set me down on the couch, and put a hand to my chest, seemingly feeling my heart beat. “Why is she alive?”, he asked. Memories from the night before came back to me, and I drew a deep, ragged breath, when I realized what Eric had tried to do. “Because she can’t be turned”, Godric said. “You cannot make her vampire”. “But she was dead…”, Eric began. “I’m here, you know. Please stop talking about me like I’m not!”, I said. Godric smiled warmly at me. “You most certainly are here”, he said. Pam stifled a grin, and I turned my face to look at Eric. He sat down next to me, and looked at me like I was the strangest creature he’d ever met. “You tried to turn me…”, I said. “So, why am I still human?”. Eric looked bewildered. “I… don’t know”, he admitted. “You were dead. I heard your heart stop”. I looked down at my chest, as if I could see the heart in question. Eric turned to look at Godric. “Vad är hon?”.

Godric sat back down, and looked across the faces of the room. “Liv is something no one else in this room, maybe in the world is. Human”. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, trying to find the words to respond to that. “That makes no sense at all”, I finally said. “There are humans everywhere. Are you telling me I’m some kind of weird subspecies?”. “Quite the opposite”, Godric smiled. “You are as human as it is possible to be. Your blood is like human blood was, before they dabbled in magic; and before they interbred with fae-folk and shifters. When they were purely human”. “But vampire blood heals me, just like everyone else”, I said. “The healing components of our blood is merely biology…”, Godric said. “Glamouring; bloodbonds; the visions, strength, and pleasures having our blood can give; and becoming one of us… That’s magic”. “And I am completely magic-less. Magic-resistant, even”, I muttered. Godric nodded. “That’s kind of… sad”, I said. “I think it’s remarkable”.

Bill cleared his throat. “With all due respect, Godric. That does not explain why Liv is alive”. He was still holding Sookie back from coming over to greet me; seemingly worried I’d suddenly sprout fangs, and give in to bloodlust. “As Eric said, she was dead. I also heard her heart stop”. “Erics blood is ancient; and he comes from a strong bloodline, both on his human and vampire side”, Godric said matter-of-factly. “He cannot turn Liv, but he was able to bring her back from death”. Eric smirked smugly; feeling very happy about himself, obviously. I couldn’t help but smile a little at him. “How?”, Bill asked. “I cannot say for sure”, Godric said. “But I suspect that the humanity in Liv fought back against being turned vampire; and as the magic could not take hold in her, she simply rose as a human again”. “That still sounds kind of magical”, Pam said. “Maybe… Or maybe it was just the very strong curative properties in Erics blood that healed and jolted her back to life”. “What if she died again? Could Eric just bring her back human?”, Sookie asked. “Let’s not test that theory. Being buried alive was not fun”, I said, shuddering.

Eric smiled at me, and picked a stray clump of dirt out of my hair. When he saw Bills smirking reaction to his caring gesture, he drew his lips back in a sneer. “Mine!”, he growled. I’d said that, before I died. I had given myself to Eric, and there wasn’t a chance in hell, he was letting go now. Godric smiled affectionately at his child.

My throat was dry, I was tired, and I wanted to wash myself off from dirt and grit. “I want to go home…”, I breathed. Eric nodded. “Pam, fetch the car, so we can go back to Shreveport”, he ordered. “Thank fuck. I’m not spending another day in Bills smelly cubby", Pam said. Grabbing a hold of Erics wrist, before he could whisk me away, I shook my head. “No… I want to go home, to my house”, I said. Eric recoiled at my words. “You said…”. “I’m still my own, even if I did say yes”, I said quietly. “Please, take me home…”. After a moment, he gave me a stoic nod; before looking at Godric, who had gotten on his feet again. “I’ll not leave before we have a chance to say farewell”, Godric smiled. “Pamela can entertain me with tales of your debauchery, in the meanwhile”.

I got on my feet, and took three long strides towards the ancient vampire; wrapping my arms around him. He froze in place, completely taken of guard. “Thank you for everything, Godric”, I said, and kissed his cheek. As I stepped back, he held his fingertips to where my lips had left their mark. Eric, Pam and Bill all stood mouths agape and wide-eyed at my gesture. For a moment, Godric almost looked like a human, just a young man in his late teens; almost blushing. He must have had some of Bills TruBlood. “I’ve not been embraced like that in more than 2000 years”, he smiled. “Thank you”. It was my turn to blush.

Eric put a gentle hand on my shoulder, and after a final smile towards Godric, I let him lead me towards the front door. Sookie ran after us, Bill not holding her back this time; and I let my friend hug me warmly. “You heard me…”, I smiled. “Not clearly”, she said, as she stepped back. “But I knew something was wrong, and when I took that guys hand, his mind was screaming about what he had planned”. She swallowed hard, and I saw her eyes well up. I squeezed her hand. “Thank you, Sookie…”. She wiped her eyes, and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow at work, right?”, “I’ll consider letting her go”, Eric said. I rolled my eyes at him. “See you then”, I smiled at Sookie, and walked out the door; Erics hand on my lower back. We walked down the steps of the porch, when Sookie called after me again. “Liv? I did hear one of your thoughts clearly…”. I looked back at her. “What was that?”. She smiled warmly, before looking at Eric, and back at me again. “Why do you think I called him?”, she said. “You take care of her, Eric Northman!”. Eric gave her a curtly nod, and she went back into the house.

Once standing in the driveway, I sighed heavily. “Shit. My car is still at Merlotte’s”, I frowned. Eric brushed his thumb against my jaw. “Come here”, he said quietly; and whisked me into his arms. Before I knew what had happened, we’d lifted off. Looking down at the disappearing ground, I let out a terrified squeal. “Eric! We’re flying”, I said, and clamped my arms around his neck. “I know”, he said. “Why are we flying?”. “Because it’s faster than walking”. He sounded amused at my frightened whimpers, but when he looked at my face, his eyes softened. “I’ve got you, Liv. I’m not letting go”. He brushed his lips to my forehead. My eyes widened, as I saw we were heading towards a group of tall trees. “Eyes on the road…! Or in the air… whatever”. Eric chuckled, and I hid my face in his chest, as we narrowly escaped hitting some branches.

I didn’t open my eyes for the rest of the flight.

---

I felt firm ground under my feet, as Eric set me down on the ground gently. Opening my eyes, I saw that we were stood in front of my small house. “Thank you”, I whispered. “You’re welcome”, Eric replied. “I still don’t understand why you insisted on coming here. You’ll be much more comfortable at my house”. “You have a house?”, I asked, as I grabbed my hide-a-key from under a stone near the mailbox. My key-ring was still in my car, back at Merlotte’s. “You thought I slept at Fangtasia every day?”. He sounded amused again. “I have a house… A few actually. The one in Shreveport isn’t the largest, but it has room for you”. I unlocked my door, and shook my head smilingly. “What…? You’ll make Pam give me one of her shoe-rooms?”, I joked, and turned to face him in the doorway. “Not that she needs both of them; but that won’t be necessary. There’s a spare bedroom, if you want your own… for when you insist on sleeping”. There was a frisky tone to his voice.

Still trying to wrap my head around the need for a room specifically for shoes, I went into the house. Eric followed me inside, and brushed his hand over my bottom. “Dirt”, he smirked, when I gave him a chiding look. “Pack whatever you need, and come with me”. “I can’t do that”, I said. “But I’ll take care of you. You won’t have to live in this… house”. It was clear to me, that Eric would have rather used a word like shack or even sewer. “You don’t have to work for Sam Merlotte and Bill Compton”. “I’ll just be your live-in fangbanger?”, I said. “Liv, no… I…”, Eric began. “I like working, and making my own money. I like Bon Temps”.

I unfastened the dirty fannypack from my waist, and dropped it on the coffee-table, next to the check and note which were still laying there. “If you like making your own money, why haven’t you cashed this?”, Eric asked, and picked up the check. “It didn’t feel right”, I muttered. “I didn’t really do any of the work you hired me to do. Unless you count the sex and the blood; but that wasn’t part of the original deal. Even if you did say…”. Eric looked down at the check, apparently not wanting to meet my eyes. “That’s not what this was for. And you did do your job”. He reached out the check to me. “Please take it”. I took the piece of paper, and put it in the drawer of the dresser my small tv was stood on.

I picked at some of the dirt under my fingernails, from our burial. “You’re fidgeting”, Eric said quietly. “I do that”, I said. “Does it still bug you?”. “No… It never did”, he replied. He took my hand, and merged his fingers with mine. “I hurt you… But you have to know, I didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t bring you to Dallas to get you in bed… I hoped for it, but I didn’t expect it”. “I know”, I muttered, and looked through my lashes at him. He seemed vulnerable; a strange contrast to his usual suave demeanor. I brushed my lips against his knuckles. “And it’s not like I didn’t want it to happen also. I wanted you… want you”. “You have me… And you said you were mine”. “I did. And I meant it. But I’m still…”. “Your own as well”, he smiled softly. “I understand”. “Do you?”, I smirked. “No…”, he admitted. “But I know that if I want you as you are, with everything you are, I’ll have to accept it…”.

“When Thomas had me, all I wanted was to see you…”, I said. Anger ghosted Erics face. “You will never have to see him again!”, he declared. “What happened to him?”, I asked. He shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that”. I frowned at him. “What did you do to him?”. Eric gave me a reluctant look. “I can’t spend the rest of my life not knowing, whether he’ll pop up in my life again. I won’t feel safe…”. “He won’t”, he said, and put his free hand on my cheek. “Is he dead?”, I asked in a whisper. Eric shook his head with a sour expression. “Godric wouldn’t let me kill him… But when he hit that gravestone, he broke his back. He won’t be walking again”. I gasped, and shuddered. “He broke his back? Really?”. His sour expression turned a bit more content. “Well, Pam might have broken it in a few more places, before she dropped him off at the hospital… He can’t get you again; and he doesn’t have Stans protection anymore, so he won’t talk”.

I sighed, and leaned forwards; letting Eric embrace me. He buried his large hand in my hair, and held me tightly but gently with his other arm. After a while, he moved his hand from my hair to my chin, to tilt my head backwards; and in a fluid movement melded his lips with mine. “You taste like… graveyard dirt”, I said against his lips. “Come on…”.

Taking his hand, I led Eric into my small bathroom. I began removing my clothes, and dirt and grime scattered over the floor from them. Eric pulled of his leather jacket and top, before unlatching my bra for me. I smiled over my shoulder at him, and pulled it down my arms. While I pulled down my panties, Eric removed his pants and underwear; and followed me in to the small shower cubicle. I turned on the water as warm as I could handle, and began rubbing the dirt from my arms. I felt Erics hands stroking my back as he stood behind me, and smelled my apple scented bodywash, as he lathered it across my skin.

Tilting my head back, to get the dirt out of my hair, Eric leaned over my shoulder, and kissed my exposed throat. “I’m happy you’re still human. I prefer you warm and alive”, he breathed. His hands travelled to cup my breasts, and my nipples perked at his fingers’ ministrations of them. “Then why did you try to turn me?”, I asked. “Because I would rather have the ghost of who you were, than losing you completely”. He spun me around to face him, and hunched down to meet my eyes. “Are you angry that I did?”. I put some bodywash in my hands, and began washing his chest. “No… If I was about to lose you, and there was a way to keep even part of you with me, I would”. I looked down to avoid his gaze. Eric put a hand on my cheek. “I’m not going anywhere”. His voice made me feel warm all over. “You make it sound like you’re mine, like I’m yours”, I whispered. I got no response, and the warmth I’d felt a second ago, was switched out with fear. Fear of rejection; fear that Eric didn’t actually feel about me like I did about him. I hesitantly met his eyes, and saw that he was smiling warmly at me. “Are you?”. It came out almost as a peep. “Yes”. There was no reluctance in Erics response; and before I had a chance to react to it, his lips were on mine.

The cascading water washed over us, as our mouths and tongues explored each other. Eric held on to me, as I rose to my toes, to wrap my arms around his shoulders. My feet were slipping, but I was never worried about falling. I was safe in Erics arms; and it seemed like he felt he was safe in mine. When his hardness stroked against my belly, he let out a soft moan. I looked down, and wrapped my hand around him; gently stroking him up and down. One of Erics hands went down to my bottom, sliding between my cheeks; his long fingers finding my folds. Tightening my grasp on his cock, Erics moans became louder, and turned in to grunts of pleasure. He was stroking his fingers back and forth between my folds, but soon had to focus his attention on remaining standing; and put his hands against the wall instead. With one arm around his shoulders, I held myself standing on my toes, and plunged my tongue into Erics mouth; muffling his sounds as I pleasured him. I wanted to use both my hands on my lover, so got down on my soles again, and took a hold of his testicles. They immediately tightened in my cradling hand. “Liv… I’ll…”, Eric groaned. “I know. But I’m pretty sure you can go more than once”, I said, and dove in to rake my teeth over his nipple. Eric growled, and grabbed the back of my head, hungrily devouring my mouth in a kiss. While I massaged his balls, Eric began thrusting in to my hand. “Come on…”, I breathed and tightened my hold on his cock. “Min…”, he croaked, and thrusted harder. I stared deep into his eyes. “Yours”, I said; and at my words, Eric came with a roar.

I gently washed both our bellies from Erics juices, while he looked on with bemused eyes. His hand stroked against my hip, as I stepped out of the shower after having turned off the water. Snaking an arm around my waist, he bent down to give me a slight kiss; before a wicked expression came across his face. Before I knew it, I was across the hall, on my bed. Standing over me was a 6’4 blonde Viking-prince; who looked like he’d just stepped out of the ocean. I let out a noise, that sounded like something in between a giggle and a moan, as he stood there in all his glory. “You’re kind of magnificent…”, I said. “Yes”, Eric agreed, smug as ever. He knelt down on the bed, and crawled over me; kissing his way up my torso, until he reached my lips. “And you are… glänsande”. “I don’t know what that means, but I’ll… Oh, fuck!”.

Eric had plunged two fingers into me, and was thrusting them upwards; pressing against my g-spot. With a suckle of my lower lip, Eric took his leave from my mouth, and ducked down, to suck my clit into his mouth. Flicking his tongue over my pebble, it only took him minutes to have me unfurl. My legs were shaking, and I was whimpering in extasy. I arched my back, and came.

It took me a few moments to come down to earth; moments which Eric used to kiss his way up my convulsing body, while tracing the curves of my hips, belly and breasts with his fingertips. He was sporting a self-satisfied smile. “What are you so smug about, sheriff Northman?”, I chuckled. “You’ve had 1000 years to perfect that. Making me come is a walk in the park for you; not a battle you’ve won”. “I’ve won many battles. Making you scream out in pleasure is the one I’m most proud of”, he smirked. “I wasn’t screaming…”, I said, and stroked my fingers over his shoulders, and down his back. Eric pushed my legs further apart, and placed himself between them. “I’ll have to return to the battleground, then”, he said, and pushed into me.

We found our rhythm immediately, rolling our hips against each other. When I took a hold of Erics now beautifully tousled hair and pulled at it, he growled; and thrusted harder in to me. I sucked and nibbled at his neck, and when he threw his head back in pleasure, I kissed his adam’s apple; feeling it bob up and down under my lips, as he swallowed to wet his mouth. “Bite me…”, I breathed. “No… You lost too much blood last night”, he said. I frowned in disappointment. “Don’t worry, you’re still going to scream”, he smiled.

Leaning down to suck my nipple into his mouth, Eric then grabbed my thighs, and got up on his knees. As my butt was resting on his thighs, and my back was still on the mattress; my hips where tilted in just the right angle to feel every inch of his hardness moving in and out of me. Eric began moving with ferocious thrusts, hitting my front wall perfectly. He held on firmly to my hips, and looked down at himself disappearing and reappearing from my warmth; clearly enjoying the view, from the look of his face. I grabbed on to Erics wrists to ground myself, and not suddenly fly off the bed, both metaphorically and literally. Sounds of groans; moans; and skin slamming against skin, from Erics hips hitting my backside, filled the room – sounds that were almost hypnotizing to me, and drew me closer to my undoing.

I squeezed my eyes together to keep my composure from Erics delicious assault on me; trying to keep some kind of control of myself. “No, look at me”, Eric demanded. “Let it happen. Just let go, sunshine”. I opened my eyes, and looked up at him; and as he pulled almost all the way out, and slammed back in to me, Eric got exactly what he’d aimed for. I screamed out my orgasm. Eric was laughing warmly, and moved backwards on his knees; pulling out of me as he did. He leaned down, and kissed me passionately. “Another battle won”, he smiled. “Uh huh…”, I croaked; still panting.

I was still laying with my legs spread. My thighs were quivering, and I grabbed on to the sheets below, feeling aftershocks go through my core. Eric looked down at my clenching warmth, and stroked a hand up the inside of my leg. His index finger went in between my folds, making me jolt from overstimulation; and then down over my taint, before stopping at the tight ring of muscle at the bottom of it. “You know, I’d really like to…”, Eric began. I crawled backwards on the bed, and held up a finger to stop him. “Nope... no. I don’t think I’m quite there yet”, I said. “Believe me, it can be quite pleasurable”, he said matter-of-factly; and traced the puffy skin there. “Yeah, I’m sure you love it… But I haven’t tried it before”.

Eric removed his finger, and took my hand to pull me up to sit; giving me an earnest look. “I would never want hurt you. Not in any way that you wouldn’t want me to, at least. You seem to like it when I get a little rough”, he said smilingly, and stroked my cheek. “If you don’t want that, I won’t do it. I want you to trust me”. “I do…”, I said quietly. “And I do want to… yield to you”. I bit my lip, and blushed. Eric searched my eyes for something undefinable. “Turn around. All fours”, he said. A shiver ran down my spine. “Eric…”, I croaked. He raised his brows at me, and smiled calmingly. “I haven’t finished yet. I want to do that inside you”, he said. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. You can ask me to stop at any time. Please trust me”.

I turned around, and got on all fours in front of Eric. He stroked my cheeks, before grabbing himself, to stroke against my folds for a few moments. When he entered me, I let out a pleased sigh. He felt so good from any angle; and I’d always enjoyed a good doggy-fuck. Erics movements were softer than they’d been before, and he was careful not to thrust too hard. One of his hands travelled down in front of me, stroking circles on my clit, while the other massaged my butt. As I was losing myself in sexual bliss, and fire began building inside me again, Eric moved his hand from my cheeks; and he let his thumb travel down between them. He found my ring again, and stroked it as he did my clit. The sensation was heaven. It wasn’t that no one had ever pleasured me by stroking that spot before; but the way Eric was doing it was simply masterful. He began pushing at my hole, never entering me, but still making my muscle work. It spread a tingle across my lower back, to go with the one streaming from my clit. Topping that of, was his hardness excavating me deliciously. It was so wrong that it was right.

“Fuck it… Do it!”, I rasped, earning a soft chuckle from Eric; before he pushed his thumb into my anus. I whimpered in pleasure, and fell down to my chest, unable to hold myself up. Eric fucked me with both his cock and his finger, and stroked my bundle of nerves; and the sensation of fullness inside me, made me begin to clench around him. I had tears in my eyes, and moved my butt back and forth to meet his thrusts. “So warm and tight. You feel so good”, Eric groaned. “Take me with you…”. Heat exploded from my core, and I pulled Eric along with me into extasy. I heard him cry out behind me, and spill himself inside my clenching heat. Gently pulling both his penis and his finger out of me, Eric lowered my hips to the bed. I was a whimpering mess, when he pulled me in to his arms. “You did so good, my sunshine… so good”, he breathed against my lips, as he kissed me.

I laid cradled against his body, our legs tangled and arms holding on to each other. “Eric…?”, I whispered. “Uh hmm…?”, he said, his eyes closed, and a pleased smile on his handsome face. “I’m hungry… I haven’t eaten since before I died”. He turned his head and looked at me. “I was going to let that photographer be your first meal”, he said. “Thanks… I guess”, I chuckled. “But I need human food”. He raised his brows and sighed. “Well, there’s been a cat wailing at your back door for the last 30 minutes. I could throw it in the microwave for you”.

I sat up abruptly. “Shit! It’s Thursday!”. I flew out of bed, and quickly put on a clean tank top, and a pair of pajama-shorts. Eric stared at me in confusion, as I ran out of the room. I grabbed a bowl, and a can of tuna; and went out the back door, to greet Mr. Whiskers. “I’m so sorry, honey! I completely forgot about you…”, I sighed, as the large tabby stroked himself against my legs. I set down the bowl of tuna at the bottom of the steps, and scratched the cat behind its ears.

Eric came outside to join me, once again dressed in his dirty clothes. He looked on as Mr. Whiskers bumped his forehead against my hand. “I don’t like that thing…”, he said, and stared at the cat with cold eyes. “Are you jealous of the cat now?”, I laughed. Eric sneered some Swedish curse word, and Mr. Whiskers hissed at him. “Oh, really? I’ll tell her you said that…”, Eric growled. “Eric, be nice to my honey!”. The vampire took my hand, pulling it away from the cat, and raised me to my feet. He tucked me in to his side. “Mine!”, he growled. “Don’t you have some beers to serve?”. I was completely confused, but decided to let it go.

Eric turned his face to me, and kissed me almost possessively. “I have to go see Godric”, he said. “Come to Fangtasia tomorrow”. “I have to go to work”, I said. Mr. Whiskers meowed. “Shut up!”, Eric snarled at it. “After work… I want to see you”. I tugged at his jacket. “I’ll be there. But I’m not waiting in line”. Eric pulled me in for another kiss. “Mine…”, he breathed. “Mine…”, I smiled.

Eric stepped away from me, and looked down at Mr. Whiskers with distaste again. The cat hissed one more time, and Eric hissed right back at it, before taking flight. I scratched Mr. Whiskers behind the ears a final time, and picked up the empty bowl; before going back inside – my heart full, but stomach less so.

I fell asleep while eating mac’n’cheese, and reading dirty texts from my favorite Viking-prince-vampire.

THE END.

[writefinch]

Dear Dairy, Pt.1 (cn: noncon, Mm, kidnap, emphasis on *forced* feminization, induced lactation, milking, bondage, drugging, induction of gender dysphoria in a cis guy, things of that nature)

7th July 2018

Cold day today. I dusted off my scarves for the first time this year. Not literally, they'd been vacuum sealed and packed away when the weather turned in October. I threw out the red and yellow knit scarf, something I should have done last year, as it's far too Harry Potter. I was going to pick out the UMIST scarf but that felt a touch dull for the first scarf of the year. In the end I picked out the green silk paisley, which I felt provided a contrast with the pink shirt. I wore them with the second-hand grey Armani that I've yet to have tailored; I haven't yet decided if it's worth the trouble. I'm leaning towards yes, as I received two compliments today, one from Jason's database administrator, a charming and flirtatious--to say nothing of attractive--lady from Perth. We've talked about the possibility of meeting up for drinks at some point, and I'm increasingly inclined to take her up on the offer.

Experiment C2 is adjusting to his newfound freedom since his release last week. It was sad to see him go, and I'll cherish the time we spent together, our first night especially when he violently objected to the idea of servicing me. Oh, how he kicked and fought, clawing at his neck chain, scratching me, biting, swinging wildly. He bloodied my nose rather viciously and left me in no mood for sex that night, to the extent that I almost let him go entirely.

Of course, his demeanor changed altogether after I bagged him. A clear plastic bag over his head, taped around his neck, watching him gasp and writhe for air that isn't there, screaming his silly little head off until he's sure that he's taken his final breath, then tearing a tiny hole over his nostrils. I let him suck in four generous lungfuls of air before I bagged him the second time, and I went through seven bags before allowing him a rest. After that he became such an agreeable and solicitous cocksleeve you'd have thought he was raised in a merchant marine!

Still, he was unsuitable both physiologically and psychologically for the experimental interventions, and I only have so much space in the cellar, so I had to let him go. Some of my social acquaintances are keeping a close eye on him. He's been told that running his mouth will lead to nothing but the cold grave, and I believe he's a bright enough lad to take that to heart.

I'm beginning the search for his replacement tomorrow.

20th July 2018

I've found him! I've found him I've found him, he is everything I've been looking for, he is perfect, it is as if God placed that boy on earth for no other purpose than my need for him. I can barely contain my excitement.

He is an itinerant surf bum, twenty years of age, single, underemployed, estranged from his family. He has flowing blond hair, a few wisps under his chin that can barely be called a beard, deep brown eyes, and a lithe, rangy figure that seems to be slowly growing into the top-heavy carrot-shaped build of a classic surfer. He's been living in town since May, surfing most days, doing temp jobs, lodging in the spare bedroom of a friend of mine.

What a perfect physique! His body is accustomed to being dashed over rocks and whipped by surf, what fun I will have finding and surpassing his tolerances for pain! Oh, to restrict and ration out air to a boy who has trained himself to hold his breath underwater since he was a young teenager, to see those taut muscles stretched over a rack, I cannot wait, I can't wait.

I won't speak or write his name. I now take every action with the foregone conclusion that he is mine, and that he is already Experiment C3. In my mind, he is already in my cellar.

My friend has kindly allowed him to get behind on his rent, and C3 apparently plans to move to Sydney in ten day's time, driving out across the country in his decade-old Ford Ka, surfboard strapped to the roof. When he disappears a few days before that, people will assume he left to avoid paying his rent.

They won't be wrong, in a sense. C3 won't be worrying about rent for a long, long time...

26th July, 2018

It hasn't been an easy choice, and it is in fact a decision I've been struggling with for some time now, but I've decided to let my hair go grey. I'm almost forty for heaven's sake, and I noticed my first grey a year before the financial crisis. Ever since then I've been religious in my application of dye and toner, carefully concealing each and every one of the pale little buggers that pops up, but it's gone from something I'd do after a haircut to something I'm doing twice a week. I won't rush it, I'm going to ease off the dye over the course of the next year or so, but by next July I'll be au naturelle salt and pepper.

Work remains dull but tolerable. I know I'm blessed to be able to do most of my duties from home given my hobbies, but there's a certain sense of removal from everything, as if it's not really a job at all and I'm back at university doing a coursework-intensive compulsory module. On the other hand, I do enjoy going to the office in a way that I did not when I was going there five days a week!

Experiment C3 is screaming his head off again, I think. It's very faint, and I've turned off the air conditioning in the sitting room so I can hear it coming up from below. I suppose I can't blame the boy, given the circumstances. He hasn't seen me since the drugs wore off, and he's in the same configuration I first kept C2 in: his feet are in snowboard boots and locked into clips in the floor, his neck is in a steel collar connected to an eyebolt on the floor by a one-metre chain, his wrists are cuffed and pulled up towards the ceiling by another chain, he has noise-cancelling headphones strapped over his ears blaring white noise, and he's wearing a blindfold snug enough to prevent him from even blinking underneath it.

He's been there for seven hours now, since three in the morning. He can neither stand nor sit nor lie down, he cannot turn around, he cannot see--though it is pitch black in the cellar even if he wasn't blindfolded--he cannot hear his own voice, and I very much doubt he has any idea how he got there.

As I said, I haven't been down to see him properly yet, so I'm monitoring him at a distance via CCTV and also his pulse and blood oxygen readings. I'm keeping him watered through an IV drip and I'm not at all worried about feeding him just yet, though I'm sure he'll be getting hungry given that I emptied out the contents of his guts with an enema while he was still unconscious. I want him properly good and woozy from sleep deprivation before I introduce myself, either forty-eight hours or until his vitals get a tad skiffy, whichever is shorter. By my word, I am not an impatient man!

Of course, given the close monitoring required, I'll only be getting a few more hours sleep than he will. I suspect I'm getting the better half of the deal. Ah, the poor thing just wet himself. He needn't worry, it's all going into the bucket between his feet, and it'll go to good use later.

I've calmed myself down since his capture, for practical reasons as much as anything else, but I am still abuzz with energy. I am already looking forward to writing my next entry!

28th July 2018

I introduced myself to C3 today.

He spent an impressively long time in the stress position before he was unable to push his legs and instead dangled from his wrists, almost twelve hours, at which point I let the wrist rope go slack and allowed him to collapse. To prevent him from sleeping I intermittently blasted him with high pressure cold water whenever his pulse dropped below 100, for about a further four hours until I decided he'd had enough rest and strung his wrists back up.

He lasted five hours that time, so I let his wrists down again and stood sentry with a paintball gun, giving him a good and proper three-round burst whenever he stopped whimpering. Up again, barely an hour, down again, where I pinned him to the floor with wiring from an electric fence, set to deliver low-intensity zaps across his arms and chest whenever it seemed as if sleep was a possibility. He only got a few shocks, I think the first few put him in such a state of alarm that he didn't dare relax enough to be given another.

I strung him up a few more times, sometimes combining the motivators--his quivering thighs made a delightful target for paintballs as he tried to hold them in a crouching squat--until we reached the forty-ninth hour. I then played my recorded introduction tape through his headphones. It was identical to the one I'd played for C1 and C2, which was itself similar to the one recorded for B4 through B9.

Of course, as the deaf and blindfolded boy was crouch-squatting in place hearing my voice tell him that his old life was forfeit, that he was livestock now, that he would be used as a sex slave, that disobedience would only lead to misery, and the details of the hormone treatments he would be on, I was standing in front of him, masturbating.

My timing was impeccable. Just as the last lines of the recording said "if you're wondering when you'll meet me, I'm right in front of you," I came all over his whorish face. I'm afraid I'm no Peter North, I've no more than four spurts and the first one is always rather watery, but I nailed him right between the lips with one burst and smeared the rest over his face with the tip of my cock. He froze up rather delightfully during the whole ordeal, barely flinching as I cleaned off the tip in his hair.

I took the microphone and spoke directly into his headphones. I told him he'd been in his predicament for two days so far, that he was to obey my simple instructions, and that if he did he would be allowed food and allowed to rest. I told him that I would not require him to speak at any point during these instructions, and that if he so much as whispered I'd keep him strung up without food for another two days. He nodded in agreement, which earned him a hard slap, as I'd not asked him to nod or shake his head. I told him then to nod if he understood, which he did.

I freed one of his arms at a time, telling them to keep them in place and move them only as and when I told him to move them. He obeyed--a far quicker learner than C1--and I put him into the straitjacket. I unlatched his boots one at a time, putting him in ankle cuffs with a short length of heavy chain between them. I injected him in the buttocks with his first dose of anti-androgens, a painkiller, and his hormonal cocktail, and I removed the IV from his arm.

At that point I led him to his cage, a 2x3 metre cell, 1.5 metres high. I removed his blindfold, though it did him little good as it was pitch black in the entire room--I'd switched off the lights and was working via a set of light amplification goggles--and pushed him onto the wipe-clean bedroll.

"Lie still like a good little boy until the lights turn on, and then you can help yourself to some food," I said to him. He made a sound as if to respond, then silenced himself, lying still in his bonds.

The lights were on a timer, and they came on harsh and bright when I was upstairs, watching him through the CCTV on my desktop with a fresh pot of coffee. Three of the walls of his cage were walled off with a tarp, allowing him to see about a fifth of the basement through the remaining wall. Inside his cage was his bedroll, a doggie bowl full of oatmeal and bananas, a small plastic trough filled with fresh water, and a litter tray.

I considered staying up and watching him, seeing the fear grow in his eyes, his first attempt at eating cold food without the use of his hands, the humiliation of pissing in a litter tray, but I was exhausted. As soon as I've finished writing this entry, I'm going to take a well-deserved nap.

4th October 2018

The truffle salt from Coles is a waste of time. Don't misunderstand me, it's useable, it's palatable, and it has the necessary truffle aroma. "Has" is the key word there, it's got the half-life of Fermium and after a week in the cupboard it's now just table salt with black specks in it. I think I'm going to invest in some decent truffle oil at Christmas.

C3 is coming along marvelously. The combination of injections and a high-fat, high-calorie, vitamin-rich diet have had a visible impact on his physique. His skin has softened even further from a clear and healthy surfer's complexion to almost peachlike smoothness and he now has visible jiggle on his thighs, stomach and buttocks. Most importantly, he's now the not-at-all-proud owner of a set of A-cup breasts, complete with sensitive, pebble-sized nipples.

His breasts are extremely sensitive. He's told me as much directly, but I've confirmed it through experimental means. A few light stripes under the nipples with the cane used to bring a wince to his face when he first came under my care, now it brings him to his knees, and the mere sight of the thing leads him to cry and whine rather prettily.

He did have some issues with portion control, in that he wasn’t eating the full servings of food I had prepared for him. This was unreasonable and short-sighted on his part: while plain, I have not asked him to eat anything that I wouldn't willingly eat myself, and while I am not a professional cook I am certainly a talented amateur.

The solution was a simple one: if even a smear of food remains in his dish, I do not feed him for the next two to four days. I only had to enforce this rule twice, and he's finished every meal I've put in front of him for the past two months.

He's gone without sleeping for the last forty-eight hours, he's gone without speaking for the last three weeks, and I've added a low dose of LSD to his drinking water. Tonight he should be somewhat tractable for the induction of a hypnotic state. I am not trying to control his behaviour--there's nothing I want him to do that I couldn't compel him to do through more reliable means--but for an in-depth interview. In concert with a lie detector and a regulated dose of barbiturates, I am going to make him bare his soul to me.

There are a few specifics I'm interested in, such as confirming my assessment of his sexuality and gender identity, and it never hurts to shore up my security by inquiring of any planned means of escape or rescue, but in great part I am doing this for morale effect: I want him to have no respite from me, even inside his own mind. He will learn that he has no more control of his thinking than he does of his eating, sleeping or exercising.

Speaking of which, I had to leave him in an armbinder for a few nights when he insisted on doing press-ups in his cell. The additional restraints distressed him greatly, and he's seemed afraid to even move lest I restrain him further. That was back in August, and I have since acquired an elliptical trainer which I allow him to use daily, good behaviour permitting.

I will write again tomorrow with details of tonight's interview, and I only hope it's more productive than C2's interview was.

5th October 2018

Well, that was elucidating.

I left C3 unrestrained for the interview. It was his first time free of shackles and cuffs outside of his cage since he'd arrived, as I wanted him to be relatively comfortable and I was confident that his drug cocktail would prevent any serious escape attempts.

He is not a natural hypnotic subject and I was only successful in inducing a semi-trance state. I don't think he achieved a trance, but I think he believed he was in a trance, and for my purposes that was more than sufficient. He talked for hours and provided an unabridged history of his life so far. His parents, his brothers, his schooling, his love of surfing and camping, his romantic attachments and rejections, his childhood friends and bullies, his fear of dogs, his earliest memories, his deepest shames, enough to fill a short memoir.

The interview lasted for ten hours, with breaks every two hours to allow him to pee (as I'd also allowed him to drink lime cordial from a cup while he spoke) and to adjust his dose of drugs and deepen his trance state. He cried frequently and easily. He bears a great amount of shame and guilt for someone so young and so relatively innocent--raised by Catholics, naturally--and spent half of the fifth hour in uncontrollable hysterics. I let him rest his head in my lap and stroked his hair as he cried, and he clung on to me like a man drowning. Once he ran out of tears he had a bout of cathartic laughter, and after that a calm passed over him, and he remained in a state of detached, cooperative calm until I ended the interview.

Of course, most of this was filler and background information for the parts that truly interested me: his sexuality and gender identity. Both were perfect. His sexuality is less important but still delightful. He is entirely heterosexual and repulsed by men. He still has nightmares about the one time I have molested him so far, when I coated his face with cum shortly after his chapter. You wouldn't believe how hard I got as he told me that!

He sometimes masturbates in his cage, which he tells me is mostly from boredom than any sexual desire, and he fantasizes about sex with women. He has little interest in sadomasochism, no interest whatsoever about taking a submissive role, and aside from a weak interest in pegging he is plain vanilla. He has fantasies about sex in public, fucking multiple women, being woken up by receiving oral sex, and seducing older women.

His gender identity is much the same: male, through and through. He has insecurities about being slight and physically unimposing--related to bullying in school--and about being insufficiently masculine. He takes pride in the callouses in his hands and the scars on his body from surfing, and wishes that the thin, pale stubble on his face was thicker.

It's of little surprise then that he finds the changes from the hormones to be a cruel and unwanted imposition. His breast growth makes him feel powerless and disgusted with himself, he can feel his muscles weakening, the tenderness in his breasts is terrifying and degrading, and even the topic of penile and testicular shrinkage made him choke up and sob. He says that even when I allow him to sleep, his mind feels clouded and he finds it increasingly difficult to identify the particulars of his emotional state, which swings and changes in ways he is not used to.

Again, I must reiterate how promising this is. My experiments concern the induction of sexual neuroses and physical development on non-consenting subjects. C1 was unsuitable because he--well, she, more likely--was a little too keen to embrace the role I had planned for her.

C3 is sleeping now. I haven't actually left our impromptu "therapy room" and he's drifted off with his head in my lap. He needs the rest. I have big plans for him, after all.

24th October, 2018

I took a trip to the cinema today. Specifically the single-screen cinema in the back of the adult bookshop. C2 is turning tricks for the manager. I don't think it's his first career choice but for some reason he's been unable to get a job anywhere else in town. He tried being an independent streetwalker for a while, which didn't work out well for him as he was quickly picked up by the local police and treated rather roughly. Almost as if they were keeping an eye on him!

The manager of the adult bookshop got in touch with him, I believe he was waiting for him outside the local lockup in fact, and informed him of a safe, reliable means of plying his trade. Now he sucks cock in the back room cinema along with a handful of other whores in exchange for a roof over his head and ten percent of the ticket sales.

He was apparently given a second tour of the police cells for not handing his tips over to the manager in a timely and honest manner, so his left eye was still swollen shut when I saw him today. His garb was delightful: pastel pink yoga leggings with the Adidas stripes down the sides, and a duck egg blue midriff-cut t-shirt with "BOY" on the chest, with a female gender symbol in place of the O.

I sat down next to him in the otherwise empty cinema and flashed him my ticket, which had set me back $84--worth every penny--and he flashed me a charming smile. There was no glimmer of recognition in his eyes, like all of my experiments and side projects he'd never seen me without a mask. He put his hand on my thigh and told me his name, which I've already forgotten. The feature began, a rather energetic video from the noughties with Kelly Wells, Hillary Scott and Layla Riviera, prompting C2 to get on his knees in front of me. He gagged a little when he unzipped my jeans, not because I was unwashed but because I'd applied a generous quantity of deodorant and aftershave so that he would not recognise me via scent.

I enjoyed a slow, leisurely blowjob for the next hour, where he displayed all the basic techniques I'd so painstakingly taught him as well as a few new ones he'd picked up more recently. There's something to be said about consuming porn this way, not just the oral service but also watching the film from the beginning, without skipping forward to my favorite parts or switching between videos, letting myself slowly build towards my climax at the same pace as the on-screen action. I came just before the money shot, pulling out to cum all over C2's face as Kelly Wells guzzled piss on the big screen, and let C2 lick and suck my balls until the credits rolled.

Before he or I got up, I took out $20, waved it in front of his eyes, and then used the notes to wipe cum up from his face. He flinched at the roughness, scowled, told me to cut it out, and put his hand on my leg as if to push away from me. I said three words.

"Punishment position three."

It was as if I'd reached inside him and squeezed. He let out a pitiful squeak, straightened up on his knees, pushed out his chest, put his hands behind his back, closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and let his tongue hang out. I stuffed the cum-soaked banknotes between his mouth.

"Be good, C2," I told him as I stood up. He didn't move a muscle as I walked out of the cinema, and as the door closed behind me, I heard a single muffled sob. It was an enjoyable experience and I certainly needed it after the last few days because C3 has really been a handful.

It began on the weekend when the first signs of lactation appeared. C3 has been getting increasingly upset with the changes to his body, his widening hips, his weight gain, his shrinking musculature, his shrinking genitalia, and his C-cup breasts. The breasts are especially upsetting, he complains that they ache constantly and are tender to the slightest touch. In any case, when the first droplets of milk dribbled out of his nipples something snapped.

Through tears, he told me that he refuses to eat, that he cannot live with the things I am doing to him, and that I should either let him go or kill him. Obviously this is unacceptable. I told him I was not treating his request with any seriousness, and that if he did not eat his meal, he would go without for the next several days. He nodded forlornly, but still refused the food.

I strapped his hands into leather mitts to prevent him from improvising methods of self-harm, and continued as normal. For the next three days, he refused to respond to commands or obey orders, remaining silent and going limp. He wailed in pain when I caned his soles and slapped his tits, but he continued to wallow in self-pity.

He was ravenously hungry by Wednesday, but when I gave him the opportunity to eat, he would not. I left the bowl of food in his cage overnight, and in the morning it remained untouched. He had not thrown it out or despoiled it, he had simply ignored it in an admirable, if misplaced, display of willpower. I gave him one final warning that there would be serious consequences if he did not eat now. He refused, so I applied the consequences.

I fitted him into a padded restraining board, on his back, his arms, legs, chest, stomach, forehead, chin, wrists and ankles held in place by canvas straps. He could not move an inch, not that he was trying particularly hard. A hollow dildo gag with a breathing hole went into his mouth, principally to prevent him from trying to bite off his own tongue. I catheterized him and inserted a hollow plug into his backside, not overly gently in either case, much to his consternation.

Then, intubation. I fed a heavily-lubricated silicone hose into his left nostril. He thrashed and twitched, as is expected when such a procedure is performed without the aid of benzodiazepines. Undeterred, I asked him to start swallowing, lest the tube end up in his lungs. He did as much gagging as swallowing, but after a few eventful minutes I felt the tell-tale glide of it being pulled down his esophagus and into his stomach.

Once the tube was taped in place under his nose, I attached the free end to a pump until it drew fluid out from within him. A few drops of this fluid onto pH paper revealed it to be stomach acid, which hopefully meant that the hose was not in his lungs. I then attached the hose to the feeding machine, and explained to C3 exactly how it would work.

He would have his meals and water combined into a slurry, kept at a cool four degrees celsius, and injected into his feeding tube. The pressure inside the hose would make breathing difficult or impossible while the food was being pumped, and the volume of his meals--around a litre and a half of slurry--meant that each feeding would be spread out in thirty second bursts, delivered semi-randomly over the course of an hour.

As I told him this, I undid my belt and began to masturbate. Despite the obvious temptations, I had not molested C3 in an overtly sexual manner since that first facial at the beginning of his captivity. By combining molestation with removal of autonomy, I wished to impress upon him the importance of obeying me with whatever autonomy I allow him to have.

I pressed the button on the feeding machine as I approached my climax. C3 squealed and gurgled like a drowning cat from the sensation of ice-cold sludge pumping through a tube in his sinuses and down into his throat, choking as the diameter of the tube expanded enough to cut off his breathing. He thrashed in his restraints with such force that he almost moved the gurney beneath him!

Seeing tears stream from his eyes was too much, and his eyes were precisely where I aimed. I landed a good few ropes on each eye, which he scrunched shut in disgust. When the tube stopped pumping I pried open his eyelids with my fingers and made sure a good quantity of my burning, stinging cum got in each eye, then smeared the rest across his face. He tried to blink it out, with little success, and before he could do much else I applied the padded blindfold. He hates and fears the eye-shutting pressure from the neoprene padding at the best of times, and wasn't overjoyed to wear it with his eyes gunked up with sperm.

He's been like that for the last three days, unable to move, speak or see, fed three meals a day through his nose. The only interaction he's had is when I've unrestrained his individual limbs and allowed them some movement, one at a time, to prevent bedsores and deep vein thrombosis, and when I come down to grope his sensitive tits. He is only able to relieve himself through the catheter and through enemas.

After a few days of stick, he's almost ready for the carrot. Tonight I am making pork carnitas with soft tacos, which he has told me is his favourite meal. I have also purchased one of the Harry Dresden books, which he told me he is an avid reader of. When dinner is ready, I will make him an offer: he will ask me for normal food and apologize for forcing me to use the feeding tube. In return he will be allowed out of his restraints and returned to his comfortable cage, along with his favourite meal and a good book, which he will be allowed to read during his spare time as long as he behaves himself.

I hope he accepts, for his sake and mine.

16 November 2018

C3 had his first true milking today! I've been teasing dribbles of milk from his nipples with my fingers for weeks, but today the volume was so high that I had to deploy a handheld breast pump. He whimpered for the duration but was obviously relieved by the reduction in pressure. It was as if he found the whole ordeal rather humiliating.

The milk is rich, a touch gamey, and less sweet than expected. I don't think the taste will be anything to write home about while his stress levels are so high, and I think that will be the case for some time. I've taken half for myself, and I'm mixing the other half into his food.

He's been docile since the force feeding. The intensity and inevitability of the punishment is part of it, but the rewards are equally important. My deal is that he can ask for anything once. Obviously I laugh at certain requests--he's not getting a phone or a two-way radio--and some things require compromise, but otherwise I have been accommodating. His cell now contains a lamp he can turn on or off, two dozen books and graphic novels, an old mp3 player, and a box of wet wipes. His relief from the constant boredom of being confined in a cage for twenty hours a day is palpable, and he has chosen the comfort that obedience brings over the misery that stems from disobedience.

He has asked if he'll ever be free from this basement and I truthfully said yes. One day he'll be walking around outside free of physical restraints and he will sleep at night in a bed he can truly call his own, though I'm unsure if he'll ever truly be free of me. He takes comfort in the fact that he has not yet seen my face or anything that might identify me, as he reasons that I am therefore not incentivized to bury him in a shallow grave to protect myself. His conclusion is correct but his premise is wrong; he'll know who I am eventually and I still won't fear him.

I'm currently milking him once per day regardless of his feelings on the matter, and I think this has hidden from him the fact that he now needs to be milked. Without his daily milkings the pain in his breasts would become unbearable, and soon he will develop mastitis if he's not milked. This will form another important part of his development: begging for things that are distasteful but necessary. With the exception of the wet wipes, there is nothing inherently humiliating in the things he's asking for. I believe he'll find begging to be milked intensely humiliating, and more humiliating still because of the tolls I'll extract from him when he goes down that road.

A brief note on his physical changes: his breasts are bigger but they remain C-cups for the time being. There are now a striking set of stretch marks on the sides and undersides of his breasts, along with some smaller, subtler ones on his thighs and buttocks which have also thickened up nicely. At some point I'm going to give him a regular schedule of retention enemas until he gets stretch marks on his belly befitting a pregnant little broodslut. His skin is delightfully soft and I'm shaving his face daily until the home electrolysis kit arrives. The combination of hormones, daily exercise bike sessions, and a lack of any upper body resistance training has changed his physique from a surfer's build to a more bottom heavy one.

As soon as I have finished writing this entry I am going to give him two gifts. The first gift is an ear piercing. It will be home to a yellow plastic tag, a miniature version of a cattle tag. The second gift is his name. He's not C3 anymore, and he's certainly not whatever stupid name he called himself before I acquired him. He has lovely tits and he's a milk cow, so his name will be Cowtits.

Cowtits. I think it suits him.

[layniapetrovnaaa]

Golden Dandelions: Preview

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He wasn't planning on watching any of the girls on stage. In fact, the only reason he was there was because it was the closest place to him with alcohol. The younger version of himself wouldn't hesitate to watch the show, maybe pay for a private one and end up taking that woman to bed with him, but that version of himself had passed away with the rest of the x-men on that god-forsaken day. This version of the wolverine was sick and dying. He was cold and tired, and surviving only on alcohol, coffee, and cigars.

He didn't even want to temp himself by looking over at the almost naked women, figuring that he would become distracted far too easily because of his past year of abstinence. When he was unable to prevent his eyes from wandering, they landed on the dazzler in the middle row of polls. Her hands sliding up and down her body as she danced provocatively around the pole. 

His lips wrapped around the cigar as he took a long inhale, the nearly empty glass of whiskey fascinating him more than the colorful lights and sexual music. As he exhaled, the smoke clouded his vision, and he downed the rest of the venom in the glass. 

Despite their location being right by the Mexican border, the Texas weather was still fairly cold on march nights, but as the old man recalled, they were not nearly as cold as march in NY, or Canada for that matter. He stumbled out of the flashy building, taking a minute before going to his car to finish his cigar. Despite his gruff and slightly western look, he did not like the south-west. He hated the dry air and hot climate, and he hated how dusty it was. He preferred the cold– or at least cooler temperatures. 

Once he is finished, he taps and rubs the fiery end on the side of the building, dropping it on the ground once it was put out. The old him would have been appalled at his execution, but now he was too tired to care.  

He would have ignored it, he should have ignored it, but the version of him that he thought had died along with the rest of his friends never truly did. It, being the sounds of a tussle between a man and woman in the alley next to him. He grumbled knowing he was still there where it counted. He still had that thirst for justice and need to help. 

Even though all his aching limbs voted against it,he started towards the slender man in the alleyway, the one who had a tight grip on the petite and scantily dressed woman. Logan figured that she worked at the building that he had just exited, given her intoxicating aroma, oiled up body, and...other factors. 

She ripped her wrist from out of the weasely man’s grasp. Logan stopped, seeing her reel the same hand back into the air, ready to attack. It was as if time moved in slow-motion as he watched her shiny fingertips melt down to glove the rest of her hand in cool metal. He would have taken more time to admire the femme fatale’s mutation, as it gleamed in the blue moonlight and pink neon sign that hung above their heads, had it not been for the situation at hand. 

He wasn't as alone as he thought.

He came back to reality just in time to see the clammy looking guy fall back into the brick wall behind him, quickly scurrying away, but not before spitting “Freak bitch!” at the damsel. 

Her hand shifts back into flesh as she dusts them off, letting out a deep breath. 

Logan continued to stand in the small and dirty alleyway. He observed the young female mutant as she bent down to pick up her coat and bag from off of the cracked pavement. The knee length black coat she wore disguised her appearance, but the makeup she still had on was quick to make you suspicious. As she slings the bag over her shoulder, her eyes flick up to meet Logan’s, and in that moment he was able to get a good look at her.

His eyes raked down her body. Had her figure been less than greek, the coat would have completely muted her. But with the way that it cinched at the waist, exposed some of her shiny and supple cleavage, and showed off her killer legs, you had no choice but to succumb to her obvious goddess-like aura. Her hair cocooned her in sensuality and etherealness. Logan felt stuck where he stood as he watched her brush past him and out onto the busy street.  His feet were quick to follow her, feeling completely encapsulated by her beauty. 

“Hey! Um-’ she turns and glares at him slightly, thinking she was going to have another run in with a sleazy man. 

“Do y’need a ride?” 

*** 

The wolverine observed her in his peripheral vision every few minutes, and he noted that her gaze never moved from the window in the five minutes that they had been driving for. He had barely even talked with her, only a “yes” and a “thank you” had passed through her sensual lips, but the nearly 200 year old man was already hooked. He never took himself as the type. Maybe he was just desperate, after all it had been a year since he had any physical or romantic contact with anyone. And the insatiable animal that still resided inside of his adamantium bones was begging for her.

She looked young, too young. But then again, he thought to himself, everyone was to young for him. But this girl looked hardly legal, despite her job and tired eyes. 

“So,” he clears his throat, looking over at the nymph-like woman

“You're a mutant.”

She couldn't tell if it was supposed to be a statement or a question. She knew that he had been in the alley with them, but she didn’t know when he had appeared and tried intervene, maybe she could play it off. She knew how mutants were treated around here.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” she mutters, her body tensing, but her stare was unwavering from the lit streets. 

“In the alley, your hand turned into metal.”

He watched her body shift to face forward, still not looking at the chauffeur. She reached into her bag and pulled out a cigarette, only looking up at him to ask if he minded.

“No, but you gotta put the window down.” 

She obliges and lights up the cancer stick.

Logan was never one for cigarettes, but the way she looked with it hanging out of her mouth, the way her fingers and lips wrapped around it, or how the smoke twisted around her, made him rethink his convictions. 

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but I’m no mutant.”

“I can tell when people are lying to me, sweetheart.” 

She stays silent and takes another drag. 

“Why do you care, anyways?” she finally speaks up.

“Because, there aren’t many of us left.” 

She nods, and Logan can feel her stare rake over him, but only when he was focused on the road ahead. 

“What’s your name, kid?”

“[Y/N]. What’s yours?” she says, taking in a breath of smoke. Her tone sounds impassive, yet there is a slightly cocky and curious ring to it, and the male mutant wasn't sure as to why. Maybe she knew that the lone wolf was already wrapped around her finger. 

“It’s Logan.”

“Well, Logan, this is my stop right up here.” she says in a sultry tone, and at this point he realizes that there must be no on or off switch for her titillating presence.  

He pulls up next to a quaint diner, decorated in blue and white paint that was starting to chip off the side. He decides not to ask about why she would be going to a random diner at 1 o’clock in the morning, as his eyes scan her once more.

“Well it was nice meeting you [Y/N], nice to know I’m not as alone as I thought.”

She nods.

“I know what it's like to be alone.” she looks at her feet then back up, the cigarette still clasped between her fingers. 

Her eyes squint slightly as she looks at the old man, a small prurient smirk playing on her plump lips, and he gulps. 

“Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee, Logan?” 

His eyes flicked to the center of the dashboard where the digital clock shined. The left side of his brain telling him not to go, and that he should get a few hours of sleep; the right, saying: Fuck it. When are you ever gunna get a chance to be with a girl like this again?

Let me know what you think! I’m planning on writing a series and this is part of the first chapter. 

[recollins]

Doctor’s Doctor (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Request: Could you do a Reid x reader where he has a secret significant other who is a surgeon or doctor? Pairing: Spencer x Neutral Reader Length: 4,568 Contains: Fluff, angst if you squint Warnings: None A/N: I have exactly no knowledge of medical procedures or the actual inner workings of a hospital. All of my knowledge for this was based off of my Scrubs obsession from like 2005 and harassing my CNA sister. Do not hold me to accuracy on any of it. Masterlist

--

Spencer was a notorious worrier. There was no denying that, no matter how much he tried to do so. From the amount of germs gathered during his commute to and from work, to the reliability of your alarm system that had gone out on more than one occasion, he always had something nagging at the back of his conscience.

After almost six months with your boyfriend, you’d grown used to his constant concerns. Overall, they didn’t bother you, despite his predictable worry that it did. Honestly, you found it endearing. You’d never really had anyone take an interest on your wellbeing the way he did, and it was just another reason to love him.

Though he wouldn’t admit it, you knew it stemmed from what he saw on the cases he faced. He’d tell you about the better cases, the ones they’d closed with minimal loss or the ones that hadn’t ended as badly as it could’ve, but he never spoke about the ones that didn’t have a reasonably decent ending. The ones that put the heavy, unyielding sadness on his shoulders that took his smile for days. The ones that woke him screaming in the middle of the night, leaving his bright golden eyes dull and haunted until you finally managed to lull him back to sleep.

He wouldn’t speak of them, but you could put the pieces together with the measures he started to implement into your life. When you’d first started dating, your own safety wasn’t something you ever really took into consideration, most evident by your old garage door.

Your house was pretty old – which is how you’d gotten such a good deal on it – and as you weren’t much of a do-it-yourself kind of person, you’d never put much effort into updating or remodeling the more outdated parts of your home. Most notably, your garage door was still the original one installed in the late 60’s. It was so old it wasn’t even automated; heck, it didn’t even actually lock. Since you had to manually open and close it, if you were in a hurry you’d just leave it open when you went to work.

Spencer nearly had a heart attack when he’d first found out.

He’d then hired a company to install a brand new door – complete with securing locks and an entry keypad – and spent an entire weekend testing and re-testing, ensuring you were safe. Ensuring you wouldn’t meet the same fate you guessed others had met on his last case.

“Double-check that it shuts all the way, and doesn’t go back up before you leave,” he’d told you numerous times, demonstrating exactly how to do it over and over again.  “Always watch when it shuts to make sure no one slips inside.”

Two months ago he’d replaced the GPS in your car, explaining the model you’d had was susceptible to being hacked. That one you hadn’t fully understood – so what if someone hacked it? All they’d get are some addresses you’d gone to.

“What are they going to do with that, Spence? Figure out I spend way too much time at Target?”

You’d asked it to joke with him, trying to get a smile on his face for the first time that day. Though he tried to turn away before it showed, you caught the ache of regret in his gaze before he dropped it to the ground.

“Yes,” was all he had managed to force out, but it was all you needed to hear to understand why he was so worried. Since then, you didn’t question him. Though he couldn’t take back what had happened to the victims his team couldn’t save, he could keep it from happening to you. Worrying over your safety helped alleviate some of the guilt and sorrow that had taken up permanent residence inside him, you knew that much.

If it eased Spencer’s mind, it was worth the constant concern he showered you with. That’s what you repeated to yourself as, for the third time that week, you set off your own alarm trying to get into your house at just a little past two in the morning.

Cursing under your breath, you finally got the damn door open and rushed to the keypad on the wall, punching in the code Spencer had set up for you. Unsurprisingly, you got it wrong. He’d picked a completely random string of numbers, reminding you how easy it was to guess someone’s password or code because they made it personal.  

There was only about fifteen seconds left before the system would alert the company, and that was the last thing you needed right now. Dropping everything in your arms to the floor, you jammed in the next six numbers you thought it was .

ERROR – WRONG CODE

“For the absolute love of fuck,” you snarled, going for another attempt. Your phone was ringing before you’d even hit the third number. With a tired sigh you propped the phone on your ear and muttered out a weary, “hello again.”

“Hi, this is Macy from ADT. We see your alarm was triggered and we were calling to ensure you were alright.”

“Yes, I’m fine,” you assured, still jamming numbers. Your phone beeped, and a quick glance confirmed Spencer was trying to reach you. “My boyfriend set up my passcode so well that even I can’t crack it.”

Macy chuckled on the other end and quickly ran through the security questions (that thankfully you’d set up) and in a few minutes the alarm silenced. Spencer had already attempted calling another two times, and if you didn’t hurry he’d show up there himself. Not that you didn’t want to see him, but you both were in desperate need of sleep with how hectic your work had been lately.

“Would you like to change your passcode?” Macy offered, and though it was tempting, you knew Spencer would be upset.

“No, it’s fine. Thanks so much,” you rushed, as Spencer called for the fifth time. You quickly accepted the call and said instantly, “I’m fine, Spence. I’m perfectly fine.”

On the other end of the phone you heard him give a sigh of relief, and you smiled just a bit. His care always touched you and settled the irritation. You’d never been in a relationship with someone who cared about you as much as you did them, and despite the annoyance you really did love how much he cared.

“I’m sorry,” he told you instantly, his voice sounding rough with sleep. “I know this happens a lot –“

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” you promised, scooping up your discarded things from the floor and shuffling yourself into the kitchen, dumping them all onto the counter now. “I’m sorry I woke you up again.”

It was a real pain, having the company call your emergency contact every time this happened. But, just like all the other occasions, Spencer assured immediately, “don’t be. I’d rather be woken by a false alarm than by hearing you were hurt.”

The smile toying on your face couldn’t be helped, and you both sat in warm silence for a few moments. As much as you’d like to talk with your boyfriend – especially after the chaotic night at the hospital you’d just had – you knew how exhausted he had to be.

“You should be sleeping,” you murmured after a few more moments. When he didn’t respond at first, you thought he’d actually fallen asleep. And then, in the background, you heard the sound of someone crying. “Spencer?”

“It’s – that’s Henry,” he mumbled as you heard him get up. You could just picture him rubbing at his eyes as he yawned and explained, “Will and JJ wanted some time alone so I took him for the night. I… think he might be getting sick.”

Your eyes narrowed as you leaned back against the counter. Sure, you weren’t a profiler, but you knew your boyfriend, and you knew that tone of voice. That was his ‘knee-deep in the pit of worry’ voice. The only person he was more protective of than you was his godson.

“You were already awake when ADT called, weren’t you?” He didn’t answer immediately and that confirmed your suspicion. You let out a heavy sigh as you chastised, “Spencer. You just got back from a case and you’ve been up for almost twenty-four hours –”

“He had a fever when I put him to bed,” he defended as you heard him open the door.

“It’s common for children’s temperatures to rise a bit at night,” you reminded him. “And kids his age are prone to colds, which is nothing some sleep can’t help.”

“It wasn’t there this afternoon, though,” he persisted; you could hear the beep of the thermometer, and instead of arguing with him (which you’d learned was a fruitless edeaver not even an hour into your first date) you stayed quiet until you heard it beep again.

“What’s his temp?” you prompted; there was no reply. “Spencer.”

“99.9,” he mumbled. “But that’s higher than it was an hour ago –“

“Does he have any other symptoms?” Again, there was silence. If you could’ve reached through the phone to smack him you would’ve. “Spencer –“

“He didn’t eat as much at dinner,” he finally replied, and you heard him put a hand over the phone as he asked softly, “Henry, does anything hurt?”

There was a tearfully mumbled no and you stifled a sigh, dropping your head back to stare at the ceiling. This man was gonna worry himself to death before he even reached forty. “Okay, Spence. Give him some Tylenol and get him to drink some water. If there are no other symptoms present, he probably just has a cold. It could even be allergies, and he’s just uncomfortable.”

He was quiet at first; you heard him walking down the hall, and then the snap of a light. A moment later he was rifling through what you assumed to be a medicine cabinet as he finally said meekly, “I’m sorry. I know I’m overreacting –“

“Hey. It’s fine. You’re just concerned,” you reminded him gently. “But between the almost back-to-back cases you’ve been working and now me setting off my alarm every other night, you’re wearing yourself out.”

Spencer was quiet again, and you knew him well enough to know he was trying to think of a way to refute what you’d just said. Thankfully though, whether it was the exhaustion or a hint of rationality surfacing, he finally gave a sigh and just mumbled, “I know. You’re right.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?” you teased, playful smile taking over. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

Finally, you got a laugh out of your boyfriend. He chuckled into the phone, and you easily pictured the bright, toothy grin he was flashing as he huffed, “I know you heard me.”

“Huh, did I? You’ll have to remind me what I heard…”

“I’m not repeating it,” he giggled. You heard Henry’s door opening again and he said a little softer, “I’ve kept you up long enough. I’ll get Henry to sleep and I’ll lay down. I promise.”

“Good. I want you to try and get at least a couple hours of sleep, alright? Doctor’s orders.”

Spencer gave another soft chuckle as he assured, “I’ll give it my best shot, given Henry stays asleep.”

“Alright, baby. I’m gonna go shower and lay down,” you told him, making the executive decision to leave all your crap on the kitchen counter until after you’d slept. “I’ll text you when I’m up. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Spencer murmured, the smile clear in his voice. It was still a relatively new thing to say, and you both got a little giddy every time. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“’Night, Spence.”

Smiling to yourself as you finally hung up, you checked the time and groaned. It was just a few minutes shy of 3am now, and you had to be up in four hours for your next shift. The hospital was ridiculously understaffed; you’d been working overtime just to make sure there was coverage.

Honestly, it was a miracle you’d even gotten to leave tonight. You were pretty sure that if one of the nurses had caught you before you reached the door, you’d still be at work. As much as you wanted to pass out right away, you forced yourself to shower. Finally, ten minutes later you were collapsing into your bed, falling asleep almost the second your head hit the pillow.

Your phone was ringing what felt like only minutes later. Groaning, terrified it was the hospital calling you back in already, you blindly pulled your phone off the charger and dropped it onto the mattress, laying your head on top of it, too tired to hold it up.

“This is Dr. Y/L/N –“

“Y/N,” Spencer’s panicked voice interrupted. “I’m so sorry to wake you, but Henry’s gotten worse.”

It took every shred of self-restraint to hold back the groan of pure frustration. Wearily, you peeled an eye open and peeked at the clock on your nightstand. 3:58am stared back at you. “Spencer it hasn’t even been an hour –“

“He threw up twice, and he says his stomach really hurts,” he rushed, his voice pinched and at least two octaves higher than normal. “His fever’s at 100.8, it’s going up quickly –“

“Hey, okay, okay,” you said quickly, forcing yourself to sit up so you didn’t doze off, the symptoms starting to float around in your groggy head. Escalating fever, nausea, vomiting, stomach pain… those weren’t a good combination. “Alright. Spence, take a breath.”

“Y/N, I’m worried about –“

“I know. But I need you to calm yourself down,” you insisted. Spencer huffed at you – and you rolled your eyes at his stubbornness – but you heard him take in a deep breath and blow it out. “Alright. One more.”

He did as he was told, and when he started speaking again his voice was at least a little less panicked. “I – should I take him to the ER? He’s gotten a lot worse and he’s crying, but I don’t want to worry Will and JJ if I’m just overreacting –“

This time, you were worried he wasn’t, and it’d be quicker to diagnose him instead of having them hole up in the ER. You were already slipping on your sneakers and tugging a sweater out of your closet to throw on over your pajama top. The sweats you had would have to do; you didn’t have the energy to put real pants on.

“Text me their address,” you cut in as you jogged down the steps, swinging through the kitchen to snag your pile of necessities from the counter. At least the laziness paid off; you didn’t have to go hunting for your crap.

You heard the ping of a text as you got into the car, and Spencer’s voice was back a moment later. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry. I know you’re so tired –“

“Spence, really. It’s okay,” you said gently, glancing at the address and typing it in. “My GPS says I’ll be there in about ten minutes. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

“Drive safe,” he told you instantly, and then before hanging up he reminded you, “be sure your garage door shuts all the way.”

The little bit of irritation that had risen up was put out instantly, smile tugging your lips up as you watched the door shut all the way. Despite the exhaustion, you knew this was how Spencer expressed his love. Making sure he and Henry were alright was the least you could do to show him you loved him just as much.

--

Spencer had the door open before you even finished knocking, pulling you into a hug you both really needed. He clung to you, face burying into your neck for several moments before he mumbled,

“I really am sorry, Y/N. You’re so tired and if this is nothing –“

You pulled back and wordlessly cupped his face, pulling him in for a hard kiss. He relaxed under your touch almost instantly, his hand flitting up to wrap around your wrists, keeping your hold on him.

You broke from the kiss just enough to murmur, “Spencer, I don’t know how else to say it, but I’m being completely honest when I say it’s okay. You’re not overreacting. Henry’s worsened and it’s a legitimate cause for concern. You have every right to worry.”

Spencer nodded, his nose brushing yours, thankfully not picking up on the undertones of genuine concern in your voice. You didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily, but you’d seen these symptoms so frequently you were almost certain this was well-deserving of his panic.

You didn’t pull out of Spencer’s hold; you never did. It was an unspoken rule that it was never you that cut off contact. He wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, but when he was, you never wanted to be the one to push him away or shut him down when he needed you. When he finally did release your wrists to step back, you swept your thumbs over his cheekbones, comforting him before motioning for him to lead the way.

Henry was curled up on the corner of a dark blue couch, clinging to a stuffed Spider-Man toy as he whimpered into the cushion. Kneeling in front of him, you gave a warm smile as you reached out and swept his hair back, feeling his forehead.

Way too warm, you noted; before you could even ask, Spencer was holding out the thermometer. He sat beside Henry at his legs, and despite the pain he was clearly in, Henry instantly shuffled himself around to lay his head on Spencer’s lap, one of his hands coming to tangle into his pajama pants.

Your entire heart melted instantly, seeing the two of them together. You’d never seen Spencer with kids, but it had instantly become one of the top five most beautiful views in the world.

“This is my friend, Dr. Y/N,” he introduced, his large hand settling on Henry’s side, rubbing soothingly. “We need to take your temperature again, okay?”

Henry sniffled and nodded, opening his mouth. As you started the thermometer, you shifted a little closer and said, “Hi Henry. I hear your tummy hurts.”

He gave a small nod, and when the thermometer beeped he reached up and held it out to you as he whimpered, “it hurts real bad.”

“I’m sorry you don’t feel good,” you apologized as you took a quick look at his temperature. 101.2. That wasn’t good. “Henry, can I take a look at your tummy really quick?”

With another small nod, you and Spencer helped him roll onto his back. Even just that small movement had more tears flowing, his little face screwed up as he turned and buried it against Spencer’s thigh.

There was no doubt in your mind now, but just to be thorough, you pressed lightly against the right side of his stomach. He let out a yelp of pain, and that was all you needed. Spencer caught the look on your face as you got to your feet.

“Spence, can you set up Henry’s car seat in my car?” you asked, keeping your voice calm so you didn’t panic the tearful little boy staring up at you with wide, worried eyes. Picking up on your demeanor, Spencer said gently,

“Of course. Henry, I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Okay Uncle Spencer,” he mumbled, allowing himself to be settled back on the couch. The moment he grabbed the car seat, Spencer all but sprinted outside. You tugged out your phone, moving to stand in the hall while keeping an eye on Henry as you dialed the nurse on call.

“Hey, Ashley, it’s Dr. Y/L/N. I know I’m not scheduled until seven, but there’s an emergency and I’ll be bringing in a patient,” you explained hastily. With the hospital so understaffed, even with priority it might take a while for Henry to be taken care of. You’d be his surgeon today.

“Is everything alright?” she asked hastily; you heard her already assembling the paperwork you needed.

“I’ll need an operating room and a team ready to perform an appendectomy.”

--

The sun was just coming through the window of the post-op room, illuminating Henry’s sleeping figure in a soft orange glow. You’d stopped in on your way to the waiting room, just to make sure he was okay.

Ashley held his chart out to you and you gave her a smile of thanks as she said, “I know it’s usually me talking to the family, but since this is personal I figured you’d want to do it. I’ll stay here with him for now, he should be up pretty soon.”

“You’re the best,” you said, giving her arm a thankful squeeze before you made your way to find Spencer and a couple of very concerned parents.

This wasn’t how you and Spencer had planned to introduce you to his team; he’d wanted you to come to one of their dinner parties in a few weeks to meet everyone at once. Though it was sudden and unexpected, you’d be lying to say you weren’t eager to meet JJ and Will. She was his best friend and after all you’d heard about both of them you were more than ready to make introductions.

The first waiting room only held a sleeping couple and a frantic woman pacing around the chairs. As you got closer to the second room, though, several different voices could be heard. When you stepped into the room, though, you hadn’t been prepared to see every member of Spencer’s team gathered inside.

He’d shown you dozens of pictures, and it wasn’t hard to match the faces to names. Penelope had to be the extremely colorful woman in a seat against the far wall, leaning on a painfully attractive man you instantly recognized as Morgan. Two older gentleman – Hotch on the left and Rossi on the right – were standing aside, talking casually with one another, their eyes on the panicked couple across from them.

Will and JJ were on the edge of their seats, hands clasped together as they talked quietly with a women who was unmistakably Emily. She was the first to spot you, brows raising in question. You cleared your throat and asked,

“Henry LaMontagne?”

All seven heads snapped to you instantly, catching you off-guard. You met each stare briefly before an eighth head popped out from behind Hotch and Rossi. Spencer looked exhausted, but his soft brown eyes lit up seeing you.

“Y/N, how is he?” he asked, hurrying out of his chair and coming around to you. JJ and Will got up as well, and though they were focused on you, you didn’t miss the way the rest of the team was looking between you and your boyfriend.

“He’s just fine,” you assured, and everyone visibly relaxed. “Thanks to Spencer, we got him here before his appendix burst and the surgery went through without a hitch. We’ll have to keep him overnight – it’s just normal procedure after an emergency surgery – but he’ll be good to go home tomorrow morning.”

Spencer moved unexpectedly, his arms instantly encircling you and pulling you into a tight hug. For a quiet, blissful moment the chaos of the morning came to a halt. Instead of panic and exhaustion and worry, it was just the two of you, caught up in your own world, both relaxing into one another after the last few grueling hours.

“Thank you so much for all you did,” he murmured against your neck, pressing a swift kiss against it as he reluctantly pulled back, smiling up at you with nothing short of love in his eyes. “You’re really amazing, you know that?”

You went to answer when a throat cleared from behind Spencer. Your boyfriend’s eyes slowly widened in realization, as if he’d just remembered the other people around you two. When he turned and stepped aside, you saw the rest of his team watching you both with grins.

Spencer’s ears and cheeks were flushed a dark pink, and you knew your own face wasn’t any different. Morgan was the first to move, stepping up and clapping your boyfriend on the shoulder as he looked between the two of you.

“Well, well, well. Look’s like the doctor’s got himself a doctor.”

Spencer, bless his adorable heart, was still at a loss for words. Whether it was the lack of sleep, the adrenaline of the last few hours finally wearing off, or the buzz of what you guessed was probably way too much caffeine (because you knew he’d been abusing the free coffee down the hall), you really couldn’t say. All he managed was a quick nod, and then a feeble attempt of,

“This – um, Y/N is my doctor – no, wait. So, we’ve been dating, um –“

With a laugh, you reached out and squeezed Spencer’s hand and then held your other out to Morgan. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N.” After a brief moment of deliberation, you grinned and added, “I’m the doctor’s doctor.”

The others laughed as you shook their hands briefly before turning to Will and JJ.

“I’m sure Henry’s awake by now. If you’d like, we can go check on him and I’ll have my nurse bring your entourage to meet us in his room.”

“That’d be fantastic,” JJ sighed, looping you into a hug of your own as Will rubbed her back soothingly, smiling in thanks at you. “Really, we’re so glad you dropped everything to help Henry.”

Giving her a hug of reassurance, you motioned for her and Will to start down the hall. Before you got more than a step and a half, Spencer’s hand had caught your own. When you turned to him, you were surprised to see the characteristic frown of worry on his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked quickly, looking between his soft hazel eyes, concern of your own starting to spark.

“I just – is this okay? This was all so sudden, you just got thrown into the middle of everything, I didn’t give you any warning to meet everyone and –“

“And you know what?” you cut in gently, and he tipped his head a hint in question. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

“Really?” he asked softly, a small smile peeking through his frown. “I just… I didn’t want to overwhelm you or… or scare you off.”

“You don’t need to worry, Spence. Really.” He raised his brows and gave a pointed glance around us, and I let out a laugh. “Okay, okay. Garage doors and sick kids are one thing, but me leaving you? Never. You’re sort of stuck with me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he teased, and to your surprise, he leaned down and pressed a soft, sweet kiss to your lips before stepping back. “For the record, though, I now have proof that I don’t always worry too much.”

Well, shit. He had a point. Rolling your eyes, you made down the hall after JJ and Will, shaking your head at Spencer as he started down the hall for the coffee machine. Alright, if his constant anxieties didn’t send him to an early grave, the ungodly amount of caffeine he consumed certainly would.

You’d save that to worry about for another day.  

[darlinvandijk]

Late Night Swim

Concept: y’all already know what this is, just a fic about Skinny dipping, and a beautiful boy joining you for the night time swim. Also WARNING: nudity?? And weed so that’s that. I couldn’t help myself so I just needed to write this piece LMAO Hope you enjoy ;)

I grab the joint from his hand, taking a hit, before coughing the harsh smoke out, ignoring the laughing that erupts around me. I look up and glare at the laughing boy in front of me, glaring as he mocks me, before passing the joint off next to me.

“Ruel make him stop, it’s not my fault that I coughed” I whine, looking to my right, watching as Ruel raises an eyebrow at me while taking a drag. I roll my eyes ready to complain before my head is tilted up, Ruels lips pressing against mine as he eases them open, smoke filling my mouth before I breath it in. He pulls away from me with a smirk, slowly licking his lips as he takes another hit, blowing it straight in my face with a grin. “You’re so annoying” I mumble, my eyes slightly stinging from the direct hit of smoke.

“I thought Crackerz was the annoying one, he laughed at you when you coughed, I was nice enough to help you” Ruel defends, trying not to laugh as Crackerz erupts again, laying flat on his back as he laughs at my frown. I glare at the both of them before standing up, deciding to give the boys a silent treatment, only to get pulled back down and on to Ruels lap instead. I look up at him through hazy eyes, my brain fuzzy from smoking, and my eyes trained on his pink lips, almost forgetting about the boy sitting in front of us with a disgusted look on his face. “Stop whining or I’ll find a way to shut you up later” he mumbles, removing the joint from his lips to press them to mine, eyes trained on the way I easily inhale the smoke.

“Can you guys stop eye fucking in front of me? Also what happened to the whole ‘we’re just friends’ thing?” Crackerz accuses us, having watched the secretive touches and glances all night, finally breaking silence after Ruel presses his lips to mine for the third time that night. I open my mouth to object his theory, only to lean back against Ruel as he points an accusatory finger at me, feeling Ruel silently shake behind me as he laughs. “Don’t even test me, friends don’t practically make out, spill it already” He pleads, already knowing the rehearsed line Ruel and I say every single time.

“Chill we are just friends, I was just making it easier for her to smoke. I was not about to hear her choke again for the millionth time tonight” Ruel reasons with him, moving his hand to my thigh, ignoring the way Crackerz eyebrows shoot up at the action. Before I can even justify anything, the same excuse I use of ‘we’ve been best friends for so long so it’s not weird’, Crackerz stands up and pulls his jacket back on. “Oh god don’t tell me you’re already leaving asshole” Ruel grumbles, smirking as he gets a middle finger in return, Crackerz taking one last hit before passing it back to him with a grin.

“Surprise but some of us actually have plans tonight, so have fun with your whole fake friendship act” Crackerz cackles on his way out, ignoring the shouts of protest he gets in return to his little comment. I lean back against Ruel as the silence settles around us, hearing him inhale before he turns my face towards his on my shoulder, my mouth opening as our lips meet, the dense smoke filling my lungs. He pulls away and smiles as I let the smoke out through my nose, tilting my head and puckering my lips, wanting another kiss from him.

“We really suck at this whole not being obvious thing huh” he laughs, pressing a few consecutive light kisses to my lips, falling even more in love as he looks at my slightly pink face. I laugh at his statement, completely agreeing with him, because honestly we could never be actors with how terrible this performance is going. “We seriously use the same excuses every time, we’re the worst baby” he grins, holding me tight against him as he breaths out the smoke, my eyes watching the way it twirls throughout the dark sky around us.

“We might as well just come clean, not like they don’t already know. It’s been a little over a year now and I’m pretty sure they caught on like two months in” I laugh, my eyes widening as he stands up, still holding me in his arms. I let him carry me for a few minutes through some of the trees and brush surrounding us, before we finally end up at the same spot we always do. His safe place, otherwise known as the little mini beach no one knows about or comes to, a smile rising on my face as I look up at the moon sitting high in the sky. “Now what’re we doing here this time Rueloff, since we’ve already smoked all we had” I ask, my eyes slowly meeting his as the peak of my high finally hits, my brain cloudy with only the thought of him being clear.

“I’m glad you asked that sweetheart, but strip. Now.” He states, ignoring the way my eyes widen and my mouth drops open, watching him in shock as he takes off his shirt and unbuttons his pants. He folds them and sets them in a small pile, turning to me as he stands there in just his boxers, rolling his eyes as he sees me fully clothed. “Did I stutter? Take off your fucking clothes” he mumbles, reaching down to pull off his boxers before I smack him on the shoulder, glaring at him as he looks at me confused.

“Why don’t you say please? I’m not some bitch you can just boss around” I huff, rolling my eyes as I turn around to walk away, only to get yanked backwards, my fully clothed body coming in contact with his now bare front. I wiggle to try and get away from him, sagging against him in defeat, as he just wraps his arms around my waist, his chin resting on the top of my head as he waits for me to stop. “Get off of me, you’re so annoying” I snap at him, growing more annoyed as I feel him laughing against me, knowing he’s enjoying my attitude.

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad” he smirks out, turning me around to face him, slightly bending down to press a kiss to the top of my forehead, chuckling as I say nothing in return and stand there staring at him. He grabs the hem of my shirt as I stand still, slowly lifting it and letting it drop on to the sand, before his hands reach down, undoing the button of my jeans with ease. I mean it’s not like that’s the first time he’s done that. “Cheer up sweetheart, you know you like when I boss you around.. I mean you sure as fuck liked it the other night” he grins, laughing when I push against his chest, my own smile finally breaking through.

“Whatever, why’re we stripping on the beach? I’m not doing anything here, sand will get in places I don’t ever want it to be” I warn him, laughing as he pulls me forward and his hand goes to my back, skillfully unclasping my bra, tossing it to the ground with the rest of my now discarded clothes. He ignores my questions and tugs at my underwear, not wanting to bend down to remove those, making me roll my eyes and pull them down, kicking them to the side once they fall to my ankles. He steps back and stares at me in awe, my face heating up as his eyes wander my now slightly shivering body, looking at me as if he’s seeing me for the first time. “Stop looking at me like that, it makes me shy” I mumble, crossing my arms over my chest as I start to feel slightly embarrassed standing here completely bare in front of him. He lets out a noise of disapproval, coming closer and grabbing my hands, removing my arms from covering my body from him.

“Don’t cover yourself, you’re stunning. I’ve seen you like this so many times yet I’m always so star stuck with you baby” he whispers, one of his hands dragging across my hip slowly, giving me a lazy love struck grin as his eyes meet mine again. He tugs me against him, wrapping his arms around me in a soft embrace, kissing the top of my head as I give him a small squeeze of appreciation. He stays silent for a few minutes, before breaking the silence in a way that I should have seen coming a lot sooner.

“Ruel no it’s gonna be cold” I screech when he lifts me up and jogs to the water, the waves reaching shore in a peaceful manner, a bit more calm than they usually seem to be this time at night. He stops with me wrapped around his waist, my arms tightly around his neck, the water reaching mid chest to him, meaning if he let me go I’d practically be fully submerged. I shift and tighten my hold around him, the cold water splashing up and down my back, making sure my chest and stomach stay pressed against him to help lessen the cold temp from reaching them.

We both look out at the moon in silence for a few minutes, just holding each other and trying to stay as warm as possible, the freezing water around us chilling me straight to the bone. He slowly starts to let me go, laughing as I grab on to his arms to stay afloat, moving my feet so I can tread and not sink straight down. He raises one of his arms to push some of my hair back, laughing as my hand gripping his arm moves with his movement, completely unwilling to let him go in case I float out into the ocean. He moves my hands to rest on his shoulders, his coming down to my waist as he helps me stay up, ignoring the little nudges of my feet kicking his shins.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are, like you’re prettier than Crackerz” he laughs, his already hooded eyes almost closing fully, the smoking from earlier causing him to laugh even harder at his own joke. I scoff and roll my eyes, knowing damn well he did not just compare me to Crackerz out of all people, the man who laughed when I almost died earlier. He leans forward and presses a kiss to my lips, smiling when I lean forward for another, knowing that when I’m high I usually get a lot needier than usual. Which is saying something since I’m always clingy when it comes to the beautiful boy in front of me.

“You owe me more than just one kiss, especially after trying to compare me to Crackerz, like that’s so disrespectful to me” I barely get out, laughing as I watch Ruel laugh, happy that I can make him laugh like this even if it’s just a simple joke about our interesting friend. I move to wrap my arms back around his neck, pressing myself against him as we just sway in the water, our highs now turning into a calm and sleepy feeling, his warm skin pressed against mine not helping whatsoever. He rubs one of his hands up and down my back, smiling to himself as he thinks about how lucky he is, holding the girl of his dreams in his arms. Nothing but the waves, us, and the shining stars surrounding us.

“Getting sleepy my love? We can head back, get dressed, and maybe pick up some food before going home” he plans, completely ignoring me when I mumble a sound of disappointment, not wanting to leave the water just yet, especially when my body had finally gotten used to the temperature. He slowly makes his way out of the water, keeping me held tight against his body as the cold air nips at our skin, my body instantly wracking with shivers. “Feeling cold baby?” He questions, my eyes rolling as I press myself against him even more, if that’s humanly possible.

“No, I’m fine” I lie straight through my teeth, trying to stop my body from shaking so much knowing he can feel it. He sets me down on to my feet, looking down at me with a smirk, one that’s filled with nothing but pure mischief. “Don’t look at me like that, I know whatever you’re about to say is going to be dumb” I groan out, his smirk growing even wider upon hearing my words, his response being the most guy thing he could ever say.

“You sure you’re not cold? I mean I’m not one to judge, but there’s a certain part of your body literally stabbing me right now” he laughs, stumbling when I smack his arm and move to wrap my arms around my chest, groaning when he bends over to laugh even harder. I roll my eyes at him before starting to slip my clothes back on, feeling them uncomfortably stick to my wet skin, grabbing his hoodie off of the sand and pulling it over my now wet top.

“You’re so annoying, you act like you don’t have fucking nipples Ruel, at least mine weren’t stabbing you in the forehead” I yell at him, watching as he has to stop pulling his pants back on to laugh again, the image of his nipple against my forehead making him lose his mind. “You’re a child, a literal child” I mutter, ignoring his laughs as he shuffles to pull the rest of his clothes on, watching him wipe his eyes every few seconds as the tears keep running down his face. He stands straight and takes a few deep breaths, his eyes closed while he tries to calm himself down, before looking at me and completely getting set off again.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just so f-fucking funny” he cries out, following after me as I make my way through the trees, walking to the little path we have to take to get back to his house, deciding that a food break is not going to happen when he’s still too inebriated to function. I hear him jog to catch up to me, his arm wrapping around my shoulder to pull me close, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of my head. “You know it was funny, just laugh baby, I won’t judge you” he sweetly tells me, giving me a cheesy grin when I look up at him, nudging his side with my elbow in response.

“It really wasn’t that funny Ruel” I state, his eyes widening with disbelief, not understanding that I don’t have the same mental capacity equivalent to that of a fourteen year old boy like him. He walks in front of me and stops, resting his hands on my hips as he smiles down at me, his lips wobbling as he tries to keep himself at bay. “Ruel it’s literally just nipples calm down” I groan, hearing him take sharp intake, his hands leaving my body as he presses them to his mouth. I run a hand down my face, waiting for the reaction I know I’m about to get in mere seconds, and trust me he did not fail to disappoint.

“N-nipples” he cries out, putting a hand on my shoulder to hold himself up, stumbling when I walk past him, wondering why I chose him out of all the boys in the world. I make my way down the street, knowing he’s following me by the constant sound of his laughing straight behind me, his breathing coming out in gasps as he tries to contain himself. When they say boys brain doesn’t fully reach adulthood till they’re forty, trust me, it’s not a lie.

Maybe hanging out with Crackerz wasn’t that bad, should have never taken him for granted.

[let-it-raines]

Did you see that post floating around about the couple who were dating before they started at an office but didn't tell anyone and everyone kept calling them Jim and Pam and trying to convince them they should date bc they were friendly with each other??? Yeah, you should write that for CS

Nonnie, I did not see it floating around because I, well, don’t really check my feed, but @shireness-says did send it to me to write last night. Then you did too, and it seemed like I had to write a little something!

original post | here |

on ao3 | here |

-/-

This is a bullshit job.

Okay, it’s not, and Emma knows it. It’s a job that’s getting her insurance and enabling her to pay her bills after she lost her last job due to her asshole boss’s gambling problems that burned Queen’s Bail Bonds to the ground. Figuratively, not literally, but Emma really wanted to literally burn it down when it meant she was out of a job. And none of the other bail bonds places in town would hire her because Regina burned a bridge with anyone and everyone she could since she is the actual worst and made enemies with anyone who challenged her. Emma doesn’t exactly have much of an education and has a history that’s a little less than pretty, so after eating three saltine crackers for dinner and considering selling her car for grocery money, she bit the bullet and started applying for office jobs that have always seemed like her worst nightmare.

So, that’s how she got here, sitting in a closed off part of Mass General with no windows and possible mold with a stack of files bigger than her that she’s having to put in the computer because they’re going digital. She’s never thought about medical files before and has assumed they’ve always been digital, but the entire department full of filing cabinets says otherwise.

She’s probably going to be vitamin D deficient by the time she finds another job.

Really, it’s fine. It’s not all that bad. She likes her coworkers, and most days she can listen to music all day and get lost in the repetitiveness of her job. Today Emma’s a little cranky because her car wouldn’t crank this morning, and she should have sold that piece of junk when she had the chance last month.

Spinning in her chair, Emma pops an earphone out and looks across her desk where Mary Margaret and Ruby are talking. They both work in Community Outreach, which is an entirely different department up in the land of people and windows, but their boss sent them to help with the digitization because the hospital realized the temps they hired would take at least six months to do all the work if left to their own devices. Emma wouldn’t mind that, no matter how much she sometimes hates it, because it would mean she has a few more months to figure her shit out.

“Morning, Swan.” Emma groans and leans back in her chair, the wheels squeaking underneath her. Killian stops by her desk, taking a peppermint out of the bowl in the corner, and pops it in his mouth. He’s far too peppy this morning, and she just knows he went for a run this morning and then spent an unnecessary amount of time fixing his hair to give it that disheveled look. She doesn’t understand morning exercise people. They may not be people at all. “How are you today?”

“Exhausted.”

“What? No sleep last night?”

“Only a little.” She shrugs and holds her hand out. He tosses her a new peppermint, and she quickly unwraps it, the mint soothing her throat. The cold weather outside always dries out her throat, and having to walk to work this morning did not help. “My car wouldn’t start this morning, so I think I’m exhausted from walking here and knowing I’m probably going to be out of a car.”

His eyes glance up and down her, lips pressed into a firm line, and she expects him to make a joke that will have her rolling her eyes. Instead, he leans over her desk and presses his cheek to his palm, blinking slowly. “Do you need a ride home? I can give you one after work.”

“I can walk.”

“Swan. It’s no problem.”

Emma sighs and leans back, running her tongue against the peppermint. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t. Pick you up at five thirty?”

“See you then.”

Killian knocks his knuckles against the wood and flashes her a smile, walking away from her desk and down the hallway to the IT department, where he’ll spend the rest of the day answering calls from elderly doctors who don’t know how to log into their patient portal. Emma watches him walk away, knowing he won’t notice. Winter in Boston may be hell, but it does have benefits, such as the way Killian owns several fitted sweaters that hug his biceps. There are few perks to this job, and even though there are no windows, there are sometimes views.

When he disappears around the corner, Emma goes back to her files, typing in more patient information, when she hears Mary Margaret and Ruby rise from their chairs, heels clicking against the tile. They’ve got Cheshire Cat grins on their faces, every tooth showing, and if Emma ignores them, maybe they’ll go away.

She knows better than to hope for impossible things.

“So,” Ruby starts, incessantly tapping a pen against the desk to make Emma look up. Her desk has one of those tall, barrier-type things around the top because it’s an old secretary’s desk, which is great for hiding out. The problem is that people know to look for her now, and when they do, there’s no way for her to escape unless she wants to roll right out of the room. “He’s taking you home, offering you a ride.”

“Ruby,” Mary Margaret hisses, “don’t say it like that!”

“Why not? That’s what could happen! He takes her home, she invites him inside for some coffee to thank him, and then one thing leads to another…bam! They’re going at it on her couch!”

“Emma is going to file a complaint with HR about you.”

“If it gets she and Jones together, it’ll be worth it. I mean, come on. They’re adorable, and my God, the sexual tension makes me need some water to cool down.”

“Do you guys have anything new to say or is it going to be more trying to convince me to date the IT guy who walks in here to steal our peppermints and fix our computers when they break down three times a day?” Emma asks, half pretending to still be working.

Ruby and Mary Margaret stop looking at each other and look at her, brows to their foreheads and smiles slipping away more and more each second. “He comes in here to flirt, and you know it.”

Emma shrugs and grabs another peppermint. “He’s a friendly guy, easy to talk to, likes peppermints. I have peppermints.”

“Oh my God,” Ruby groans, dropping her head to the desk. “You’re killing me. Absolutely killing me.”

“You know, Emma, there’s no rule against office romances,” Mary Margaret suggests. “I think you should give it a shot.”

Emma rolls her eyes and keeps typing in patient information. “Maybe I will, but maybe I’m not going to ask him out until my time here is up just to torture the both of you.”

She has no intention of asking him out, but they don’t have to know that.

They gasp, and Emma knows she’s won this round. It doesn’t matter, though, because they’ll be back at her desk to have this conversation again after the next few times Killian walks through the office. And he does walk through the office at least seven more times that day. He has to fix her computer, then Ruby’s, and then there’s a near catastrophe where the digital filing system shuts down. Another time he comes in before lunch, asking everyone in the office if they’d like anything from the hospital deli, and then he comes back with salads for everyone, eating with the three of them and Jeff from IT. Once more he comes in for a peppermint, saying he just couldn’t have his breath smell any longer, but he stays and chats for fifteen minutes about a new ice skating rink he’s thinking of taking his friend Rob’s kid to. He suggests Emma should check it out, and then Ruby makes a sexual joke about ice skating, which is something Emma didn’t even know could be sexual if you weren’t a professional who could do all those lifts and dances or whatever. Emma is fit, but she couldn’t do that.

Finally, he comes into the office a little before five thirty, his car keys in hand, and Emma grabs her things and walks with him out of the office and back up into sunlight, which she forgot existed. She’ll barely get to see any of it, however, because it’s December and the sun basically sets at noon.

She is definitely going to have a vitamin D deficiency soon. Maybe she should start taking vitamins.

She and Killian talk about their days during the ride to her apartment, but mostly Emma sits in silence and listens to the radio, letting her eyes rest from staring at small print and a computer screen all day. It’s an adjustment for her to work regular hours, and all she wants now is to consume an entire pizza and have a large glass of wine.

Or two. Two large glasses of wine sound good.

When Emma opens her eyes, Killian is parked outside her building, his car idling, and she blinks herself away, undoing her seatbelt and sitting up. “Thank you for the ride, Jones.”

“Not a problem, love.”

She twists to the side, looking at him, and thinks of what Ruby and Mary Margaret said earlier.. “You want to come in for some coffee?”

“You know I won’t be able to sleep tonight if I have caffeine this late.”

Emma shrugs and leans over the console to press her lips to his, lingering as Killian’s hand comes to cup her cheek, his fingers threading through her ponytail as he tugs her closer. He tastes like peppermint, and it makes Emma smile.

“I know,” Emma sighs, pressing her forehead to his. “But I need coffee if I’m going to stay up until a normal hour, and I need to deal with my car tonight. Do you think it’s a goner?”

Killian pinches his brows and kisses her again, his tongue teasing her bottom lip, but he pulls back and crosses her arms over her chest, waiting for his real answer, even if she already knows. “I think we can look at it, have a mechanic look at it, and then look at it again when you disagree with the mechanic, but I think it may be time to lay the bug to rest. It had a good run, and I will always hold dear the memory of you nearly hitting me with it.”

“You can’t say I don’t make a great first impression.” She laughs at the memory and the way Killian had told her to go fuck herself, but quickly her heart drops and she groans, wondering how many curses she can mutter in a thirty-second time frame. Probably not as many as Killian did that day. The British know how to curse. “I don’t have the money for a new car. What am I going to do?”

“I can take you to work. We’re going to be at the same place for at least another month or so. And who knows? Maybe you’ll get another job at the hospital. And if not, I can still take you to work and pick you up. We’ve been sleeping at each other’s places most nights anyway. If you don’t want that, there are several different public transportation options. But I think Mary Margaret and Ruby would die if I took you to work in the morning.”

He waggles his brows and smirks, leaning into her, and Emma can’t help the smile that creeps up on her. They didn't want it to be a thing that they were dating because Emma wanted to get the job on her own, so they never told anyone. “They would actually die. I mean, seriously. They told me I should invite you up for coffee and then ride you on my couch, and you know, that doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea.”

“Well, I would have been up for that even without the coffee invitation, love.”

“That a double entendre?”

“Of course.” He reaches over and grabs her hand, threading their fingers together. “When do you think you’re going to tell them we started dating months before you started at the hospital?”

Emma shrugs and leans back, smiling. “Eh, I think one day we should walk in holding hands and let them think it’s new.”

“Tomorrow? I could give you a mark on your collarbone to really drive them crazy.”

“Absolutely not, but nice try buddy.” She nods her head toward the building. “Come inside with me and let’s get dinner. Pizza sound good?”

“Pizza sounds fantastic, love.”

-/-

They walk inside holding hands a month later, and Mary Margaret stumbles while Ruby drops her coffee over her computer’s keyboard. Killian is the one who fixes it, and Ruby is still so shocked she can’t interrogate him while he works.

Emma has a feeling Ruby Lucas has never been shocked silent, and Emma can barely hold in her laughter.

She never does tell them how long she and Killian were dating. She doesn’t think their computers could take it.

-/-

She does find them in their office a year later, though, when they’re back in Community Outreach and she’s working in the conference center – which has windows! – and shows them the ring on her finger.

Ruby, thankfully, didn’t have any coffee in her hands.