#people should not be throwing the word “abuse” around so lightly

[lucyshypemaster]

will never forget people saying that fitz is verbally abusive to sophie

[stellewriites]

PART TWO

summary: by chance you and your emotionally unavailable husband meet a friendly couple that invite you stay at their farmhouse in scotland. however the time spent there with johnny & kyle has you questioning if there’s a dark side to them you didn’t see before.

a speak no evil au - masterlist

notes: manipulative johnny & kyle, piv, noncon, somno, never explicitly acknowledged abusive relationship between reader and her husband (financial, physical, emotional, coercive control), drinking, murder, it’s dead dove horror people!! heed the warnings

despite your best efforts, elliot’s words had gotten to you the night before and it had made you cautious to sit downstairs for breakfast; hyperaware of yourself and what kyle and johnny must have thought of you.

you decided to nip down to say good morning - it was only polite - and while you were there you could grab two coffees for yourself and elliot.

you ran into gaz as soon as you got down the stairs.

“morning, sleep ok? johnny said you weren’t hungry last night,” kyle said as soon as he saw you walk into the kitchen, a little concerned frown and pout pulling at his pretty face. “can i make you an omelette? pancakes?”

“pancakes?” you couldn’t help but ask with a smirk.

“johnny likes ‘em.” you snorted.

“an omelette would be good, thanks.”

kyle immediately got up and got to work in the kitchen, letting you take his seat so you were sat closest to the kitchen counter he stood at.

“where is johnny this morning?”

“out with the donkey, loves the early mornings. don’t think his body can get out of the habit of them,” kyle said with a fond roll of his eyes. “means i get to stay in bed and extra thirty though, so i don’t complain.”

he grabbed a mug from the cupboard when the electric kettle clicked off and made a quick drink.

“coffee?” he slid it onto the table next to you. “husband can’t knick this one, eh?”

“oh, thanks.” you took a long sip despite the heat.

“how’d you sleep?” kyle asked again, watching you.

“yeah, good, slept right through,” you lied. you’d tossed and turned all night with elliot groaning in his sleep and you knew you had bags under your eyes to prove it.

kyle nodded and turned back to the eggs he was scrambling in the pan alongside the grated cheese and chopped vegetables he’d chucked in.

“johnny had a great idea last night, and i don’t say that often,” kyle joked. “we thought we could take you out to this little restaurant, up near ballo reservoir and the ruins. it’s ran by an old mate of ours.”

“that sounds fun, yeah,” you agree. you smile a little wider when he turns around with your omelette and sits next to you. you look down at the plate and gawp. “bloody hell, that’s a big omelette.”

kyle laughed. “yeah i figured why make more pots to wash when we could just share,” he said and revealed two forks.

“oh.” you blinked. “…ok.”

kyle didn’t wait for you to change your mind before he was using the side of his fork to cut a mouthful of the omelette off.

“second day in the highlands, what were you thinking of doing?”

you finished chewing your own bite before answering. “elliot will need help during the day i think. hopefully he’ll be able to get a stable enough wifi connection to check his work emails.”

“fuck that,” gaz scoffed. “you should help me in the garden. johnny will sort out your husband if he needs a hand; soap’s got odd jobs around the house he’s doing to keep his hands busy anyways, so it’s no trouble for him to keep an eye on elliot.”

you hesitated, knowing elliot wouldn’t appreciate johnny’s rough handling, but you found it nigh impossible to say no to kyle’s big kind eyes. especially when he was leant in so close.

“then i guess i’m gardening today,” you said bashfully.

---

he showed you around the chicken coop first, let you throw a bit of grain down so the hens would swarm closer as you squatted down among them to pet lightly at their feathers.

“made the henhouse myself,” kyle told you smugly, his chest puffing out further when your head snapped towards him.

“no you fucking didn’t,” you said, your eyes raked over it as if seeing it fresh.

“alright, maybe i had a bit of help from a friend, john - not my johnny - was always handy in his time off during the service. gave him a call an’ he helped me figure it out when my first attempt didn’t go so well,” kyle admitted sheepishly.

you snickered and walked up to the small shed-like structure. you could see it was lovingly made, each decision during its creation had a practical use.

“you and johnny ran into any hobbies or skills you’re not good at?” you joked.

kyle huffed a laugh and tugged you out towards the vegetable plot across the garden. “can’t say we have, love.”

“oh, fuck you,” you laughed and shoved him as you came up to the first raised bed, knocking him of kilter.

“hey, hey watch for the onions,” he laughed as his knee bumped into the wooden side holding the budding vegetables.

“god, this place is huge,” you said wistfully as you rounded to the next bed and noticed the handmade markers.

carrots

tomms

tatties

gaz’s awful radishes

you grinned before running your hands gently along the beans growing high intertwined with the arches joining the raised beds to create a path down the centre towards the greenhouse.

“have some if you’d like,” kyle said and gestured to the pea pod resting on your fingers.

your gripped it tighter and tugged, pressing at the seam gently until it popped. the peas inside were huge, but it was always the crunchy casing that you enjoyed. you took a bite as gaz led you to the greenhouse and let out a deep hum at the refreshing taste.

“just wait until you try the strawberries,” he said teasingly, sliding open the the glass door.

he grabbed a clean empty bowl from the side and handed you it as you crouched to look at the strawberry plants lined up to the right of the spacious greenhouse.

“go ahead.”

you grinned and started picking the ripe ones, sneaking one or two to eat when kyle leant over your shoulder to steal his own.

you dropped the bowl off in the kitchen to rinse later on your way down to the barn.

“weren’t we gardening? why are we going to the barn?” you asked as he led you across the gravel and around the back of the garage.

he pulled open the barn doors with a grunt.

“to grab an extra pair of gardening gloves, but also to check up on marmite. she’s been a bit ill recently, caught her foot on something sharp in her paddock the other day so we’ve been trying to keep her still while she recovers,” kyle said and led you to the stable on the right.

you frowned before you saw the sweet little donkey stood, chomping at its bucket of hay.

“oh my god,” you whispered. “you actually have a donkey.”

kyle frowned at you, confused. “said so earlier didn’t i?”

“i couldn’t tell if you were pulling my leg or not.” you reached out and she slowly lumbered over to you, an obvious limp in one front leg. “will she be ok?”

“oh yeah, vet said she just needed to rest it, nothing major,” he reassured you. “plus she’s been through worse, she’s tough.”

you made an inquisitive noise as you gently petted between her ears and down to her nose.

“when we first found her she was pretty sick, left to rot in a field nearby, so we took her in. took a while for her to get back to full health, but now marmite gets to relax in her own paddock with the few sheep the neighbours let roam. sometimes we take her to the farmer’s market on the weekend when it’s good weather. she likes the work and the kids like to pet her, increases sales when people realise we’re authentic.” he scruffed roughly, but lovingly, under her ear before patting her neck. “give her another month and she’ll be back pulling her cart.”

you cooed, heart melting at the thought of her pulling her own cart with kids petting at her sides. “wait you called her marmite?” the donkey lifted her head at her name.

you bit your lip trying not to laugh as kyle turned an offended look towards you. “it’s a good name,” he defended.

you shook your head.

“this place is so fucking wonderful, kyle,” you said. “i think i could stay here forever,” you whispered.

he pulled you into his side and kissed your temple. “could if you wanted.”

you laughed at his joke and rolled your eyes. “oh yeah the commute to elliot’s work would be fine,” you teased.

kyle shrugged. “i’m sure we could find a solution to that.” you grabbed the gloves and a trowel and headed back towards the garden on a slow walk, waving to johnny through the kitchen window as you passed. “let’s get started on the garden, johnny’s wanting the rhubarb up.”

“making pie?”

“we were planning on going to the market in a couple of days time, if you wanted to come with us,” kyle offered casually. “it’s not like the overpriced shit they do in the city.”

you grinned and nodded. “do they always run it mid-week?”

“mid week every other week and the first weekend of every month,” he said. “you’ve missed the weekend one, which is a shame because it’s always busy and more vendors come.”

“i’m sure i’ll have a blast either way,” you reassured him. “will i be given free cheese like at the place des lices?”

kyle grinned, sharp and teasing. “i’ll bring a block with us if it keeps you hovering by me and johnny’s stall.”

you snorted and elbowed him as you reached the garden again. “behave.”

you dropped to a squat and started rustling through the large green leaves of the rhubarb until you found the base, twisting and pulling until it popped loose.

you chucked it into the bucket between you and gaz and grinned as he started to work beside you.

---

you spent the rest of the afternoon with him in the garden, only stopping to have lunch on the outside table - sandwiches johnny brought out with a teapot and two mugs on a tray - and gathered all of the vegetables and fruit that needed picking, whether to cook for themselves or for the market.

“do you go every week then?” you asked as you finally headed back to the house with your hands full and mucky from the soil.

your forehead was sweaty from the hard work but you didn’t feel uncomfortable, it felt good to have been useful and busy again.

“the market?” you nodded. “nah, we don’t have a big enough plot for growing. and it doesn’t bring enough in to make it worth it to expand. we just find it fun, enjoy getting out and seeing the locals every so often.”

“yeah you could probably go crazy staying out here alone for too long,” you laughed as you walked ahead of him into the house. “with sheep as your closest neighbours.”

kyle bit the inside of his cheek but you didn’t notice his silence.

“hey, good day?” you called out to your husband sat in the next room as you placed the vegetables on the table. when he didn’t reply you went through, careful to take your shoes off first so not to track mud inside. you leant over the back of the sofa and kissed his cheek, frowning when he sharply pulled away, glaring forward at the tv. “elliot?”

he stayed silent.

you slowly stood back up straight and waited for any sort of reaction for him before heading back to the kitchen. you knew how he got when he was in a foul mood, and you could see this one a mile off, there was no reason to push your luck.

stuck in your own head you were taken by surprise when johnny suddenly grabbed you by the hips, his bright eyes and toothy smile an inch too close to be casual as you looked up at him.

“fuckin’ hell, yer glowing, lass,” he boasted. “farm work looks good on ye.”

he patted one hip and winked before letting you go to clung to his husband. leant over kyle’s shoulder at the sink where he was rinsing the soil away from his hands and the root veg you’d picked, johnny pulled his husband’s chin towards him and kissed him.

you felt rooted to the spot as the pair opened their mouths wide enough to slip their tongues against the other’s, spit slicking lips and connecting what little space was given in thin strings as they swapped soft moans and heavy breaths. it was a private moment, intimate, but you couldn’t pull yourself away even as your stomach tightened and your throat became dry.

they pulled away, barely an inch, but enough for gaz to speak.

“don’t forget about that restaurant tonight, love,” he directed at you. “dress up a little, it’s like a chef’s table.”

your husband perked up from the other room at the mention of a chef’s table - never one to pass on an opportunity that made him look rich and important like the man he worked for, always searching for another story to brag about to his mates.

“what time? is the chef anyone i’d have heard of?”

johnny stifled a mocking laugh into kyle’s shoulder, one hand wandering beneath gaz’s jumper.

“nah, mate, he’s a bit lowkey this guy. doesn’t do social media or the like. invite only to his place.”

elliot’s eyebrows raised and he leant further over the sofa arm to talk. “and we’ve been invited then?”

“aye. we have.”

“do you want help changing, elliot?” you asked, but before your husband could find fault in your offer, johnny interrupted.

“i’ll help the wee injured lad, hen. you go get all bonnie for the meal, take your time getting all fancy f’r it,” he said, finally detaching himself from kyle.

“oh, ok.” you nodded when elliot didn’t immediately complain and headed upstairs, grimacing at the soil beneath your fingernails that you still hadn’t washed off. you sniffed yourself and grimaced at the thin layer of sweat clinging to you. you grabbed your towel and headed to the bathroom.

“fancy,” you’d scoffed to yourself in your bedroom after a quick shower.

you weren’t sure you could count anything you’d packed for the week as fancy or pretty enough for an invite-only restaurant.

you pulled out a black dress you’d packed in case you and elliot got some time alone. now that you were here you knew how unlikely that was but you were appreciating the foresight now.

the dress wasn’t anything special, not something you’d have chosen to eat out in if you had access to your other clothes at home; it went below your knees but the plunge of the neckline would have elliot grinding his teeth if you wore it around gaz and soap.

you bit your lip before making the split second decision to wear it anyway. a voice at the back of your head whispering insistently and repeatedly that kyle and johnny would love it.

you finished getting ready before considering the shoes you’d brought with you.

your hiking boots, trainers, and a pair of floral patterned wellies. “fuck.”

hadn’t thought that far ahead when you’d packed the dress, clearly. you sighed and headed down the stairs anyway. smiling when you caught johnny and kyle’s eyes.

“trying to kill us, hen? where have ye been hiding this little number?”

“give us a spin,” kyle ordered, and you followed suit without a second thought.

“yer a lucky man, elliot. very lucky indeed.” johnny patted your husband’s shoulder. “go get yer shoes on, hen, and we’ll set off.”

you felt your cheeks heat. you pointed down to your trainers next to the door. “i don’t have anything i can wear with them except my trainers,” you winced.

“oh that won’t do, what size are ye?” johnny asked, waiting by the door until you answered. “same size as my sister then. she’s left a few bits here when she’s visited before, i’ll see if i can find anythin’ in storage. she’d nae mind.”

he was gone and back again in a flash and you were handed a pair of black heels to step into. you thanked him and shakily stood, the heel far taller than what you were used to and the strap thin and barely providing support.

“oh god,” you huffed as you wobbled in place.

“need a hand?” johnny offered his arm and you clung on as you headed towards the door.

“christ, it’ll take all night to get to the car with her like this,” elliot complained behind you, kyle supporting him under his arm.

“i don’t think you’re one to talk right now since she’s still looking steadier on her feet than you,” kyle said bluntly. elliot’s ankle had lost the swelling and was simply wrapped beneath his socks and shoes for support, but he’d never been good with pain and you knew he’d take an extra few days to make sure his suffering was known.

you were inclined to agree with kyle that the injury was small, just needed a bit of rest to heal, but the bruising around the bone had you worrying about elliot driving at the end of the week and wondering if it had been worse than gaz had figured, and whether a sprain - or god forbid, a break - would need seeing to sooner rather than later.

johnny’s arm had gravitated to hold you around the waist as you drifted in your thoughts, leaving you to grip his wrist and his other hand for stability as he led you towards the car over the gravel. you felt your life flash before your eyes a handful of times as your ankles struggled not to cockle and keep you upright on the short walk, and you sighed in relief when you finally got in the car.

next time you’d wear the bloody wellies if it meant not having to wear shoes like this. god knows how johnny’s sister managed it.

---

kyle and johnny took the time during the drive to boast about simon - the chef and an old friend of theirs - and his restaurant; focusing on his cooking skills and mentioning only that he was a take-no-shit type of bloke, so not to be offended when he wasn’t particularly chatty.

“think the most i’ve ever heard him talk was when i asked what was in that soup he made last time,” soap snorted.

kyle parked up next to the single car parked by the side of the road, his headlights shining on the ruins a few hundred yards ahead of them.

to the right along a small cobbled path was a two story building that looked more like a house from the outside than a restaurant.

behind it sat the reservoir, black and still in the low moonlight.

the location was gorgeous but solitary and you wondered how he kept his lights on without foot traffic before laughing at your thoughts. it’s invite-only, this guy - simon, you reminded yourself - obviously didn’t need foot traffic to get by.

you held on to johnny tightly once more as you walked towards the building and found that its outside looks deceived you when you stepped inside and found the front room had been renovated into the dining area. it sat only one table in the centre but it was cosy, welcoming, professional. you assumed the back section of the old house’s ground floor had been adapted into a professional kitchen and storage space.

johnny led the group towards the lone table, big enough to seat four, and pulled out your chair, taking his seat opposite you after.

you’d been sat barely a minute before the door to the back swung open and a large, hulking man wearing a surgery mask and an apron walked over. he untied his apron once gaz stood up, holding it in one hand when the shorter man leant in for a hug, slinging his trunk of an arm over kyle’s shoulders.

“good to see you again, simon,” gaz said as he pulled back. “how you been doing?”

“good,” simon grunted, with a nod. he waved johnny forward with a weary flick of his wrist, but you could see the fondness in his eyes when johnny clapped his back and clung on.

“cannae wait ta see what you’ve got planned fer us t’night, si,” johnny said as he pulled back.

“wait ten minutes an’ you’ll find out, won’ ya?” simon said.

johnny huffed.

“simon, this is the couple we were telling you about that we’d met last month,” kyle said.

“french riviera.” simon nodded.

“nice to meet you,” you said. “these two were singing your praise on the way over so i’m excited to be here.”

simon smiled at you before flicking his towards kyle and johnny with a raised eyebrow.

you felt like you were being made fun of, talked about despite the silence, and you didn’t like it.

“when’s first course then simon?” johnny asked.

simon sighed. “was waiting for you to turn up, wasn’t i?” he said before slinking off to the back, barely sparing a glance for your husband during the entire exchange.

you’d quickly forgotten the uneasy feeling when the food came out; stuffed mushrooms for the starter and lamb served with smoked aubergine and caramelised onions and a robuchon-style mash that you’d practically inhaled after the first bite for the main. now you were just eagerly awaiting dessert.

it was overall one of the best meals you’d ever had, only highlighted by the fruity cocktails simon had impressed you all with and the silly jokes he’d told when he poured them. you didn’t know how he managed it all alone; or you assumed he was alone, with no conversations bleeding out from the kitchen when the doors opened and no face other than simon’s seen.

you slouched in your chair, wholly satisfied with the evening, and reached to hold elliot’s hand on the table at the same time that gaz looked to johnny lovingly.

he leant in and gently kissed his cheek, pulling back to stare in one another’s eyes and share the moment just between the two.

elliot sniffed at the display, looking down at his plate. “so you two, how’d you meet again?”

“met officially when we were put on a mission together, but i’d see johnny around base and at the nearest pub on our days off before that,” kyle said.

“he didnae have the time of day fer me at first,” johnny laughed, his arm moving under the table as he rubbed at kyle’s thigh.

“saw him strike out with half the men and women in the bar, gave me the ick,” gaz joked. “asked me out more than a dozen times.”

“an’ yet he was the one that got down on one knee all teary eyed in the end,” johnny disclosed.

“realised thick-headed scot’s were my type after all, came to my senses,” kyle cooed.

“sorry, you said men and women?” elliot asked, suddenly visibly invested in the conversation.

his eyes were sharp and you new he was thinking back to your conversation in france when you’d reassured him neither man would be interested in flirting with you. you were still convinced they were just tactile people, especially given how they had greeted simon, but you had to admit that the last few days had been filled with odd moments that had you questioning your own feelings. either way you knew elliot would be like a dog with a bone after this, would try and use it to cause an argument after such a great evening.

“aye. he did.” johnny nodded.

“so you’re not… gay then,” elliot hedged.

you kicked his leg beneath the table and gaz snorted.

“nah mate. we’re not,” gaz said.

“so then…”

“elliot,” you hissed. “stop prying.”

“i’m bi,” kyle said with an easy shrug before elliot could react to your reprimand.

your eyes flickered to johnny, meeting the bright blue head on as he was already watching you before he looked at your husband.

“i don’t put labels on things, limits me,” johnny sniffed. he looked back to you as he spoke next. “i like pretty people with bonnie accents and big doe eyes. like gaz here.” he turned to his husband with a cheeky grin.

gaz snorted again, mirthfully this time.

“cannae say no to him ever, jus’ ask him,” johnny said and you silently agreed.

“like you ever want to, i’m full of good ideas.” gaz pouted.

“why ye asking anyway, elliot? feeling the urge to join us?” johnny licked at his teeth, predatory as he stared down your husband.

elliot choked out a startled ‘no’ and shook his head, making the couple laugh at his urgent insistence.

“for the best i think. i dunno if you’d be able to keep up, no offence,” gaz said condescendingly. “we don’t tend to play vanilla.”

your eyes widened as a sudden slew of scenarios involving the two handsome men in front of you flashed before your eyes. you did your best to keep your face straight even as elliot frowned and scoffed.

“what, you like to tie each other up?” he rolled his eyes with a huff of a laugh.

kyle didn’t rise to the bait. “we do all sorts. don’t think there’s much we haven’t tried at this point.”

johnny grinned at him.

“even like… gags and spanking?” you asked, sudden and unbidden, the words needing to be answered even as you felt your entire body heat in embarrassment.

“yeah, hen, we’ve tried those a few times,” johnny said gently but eagerly. his foot knocked against yours beneath the table and you fought not to jump or flinch. “what we’re into at the moment though is roleplay.”

“can have a lot of fun with it,” kyle agreed.

“you’re kidding me,” elliot said, disbelief colouring his voice.

“not at all, watch,” johnny said before standing, hooking his napkin over his arm and holding it in front of him like a waiter. he cleared his throat before lilting his voice slightly higher, like he was using his ‘phone voice’. “was everything to your satisfaction tonight?”

“it was fantastic,” kyle said, immediately playing along. he slouched into his chair. “the dessert though, was a little lackluster. i wanted something with a bit of a bite.”

johnny raised his eyebrow. “i might be able to help with that, sir.” he leant forward as though to grab his plate, but instead knocked his fork to the floor. “oh no, silly me.”

“you better grab that, hm?” kyle asked, spreading his legs as johnny immediately fell to his knees, crowding close.

kyle looked over at you and elliot and grinned at your shocked, engrossed faces. he lifted the table cloth and covered johnny’s head and curved back. he hid one hand beneath, resting it on the back of his husband’s head, scratching through his mohawk.

your breath started to come short as you heard the fly of kyle’s trousers go and then suddenly it was all you could do not to squirm and add to the noises coming from the other side of the table. the room was silent, not a word from your husband for the first time in years, and the kitchen seemed to have stilled while johnny hummed and gagged.

kyle groaned and huffed, his smiles tilting the breathless noises into half laughs as johnny seemingly sucked the life out of him.

you’d never held yourself so still, not daring to check what elliot’s reaction was as you stared between kyle’s pleasured face and johnny’s bobbing head beneath the cloth.

suddenly the pair stopped, and johnny threw the table cloth up with a grin, laughing alongside kyle as you and you and your husband tried to catch your bearings at the reveal of the unconventional joke.

“just fuckin’ with ye,” johnny said as he sat back in his chair.

you shakily laughed along, avoiding eye contact as you pressed a hand to one cheek, hoping to ease the heat you could feel emanating, knowing that between your legs was no better.

“don’t worry we’d ask before including you in anything,” kyle said. “even if we just wanted you to watch.”

“though when we open up the relationship it’s usually to get the third person involved. cannae help but touch, watching’s nae enough,” johnny added, heated as he glanced at you.

“i’ve never done that before,” you said softly, too brusk to be a whisper. “be with two people at once that is.”

you hadn’t realised elliot had spoken at the same time, his words only just registering as you watched johnny’s gaze simmer.

“we’re not interested.”

we.

there he went answering for the both of you again.

“right?” he pushed.

you looked at him out of the corner of your eye, fearful of what his reaction would be until johnny’s foot knocked yours again. you felt a sudden surge of confidence.

“i think this might be the first time you’ve ever said no to having sex with someone that wasn’t me, elliot.”

your husband sputtered, only embarrassed further when gaz whistled low and soap shook his head, privy already to the failings of your relationship and at a loss as to why your husband could have ever made the choices he had.

“well, if yer not up to it, elliot, we wouldnae push,” johnny said. “in fact it’d mean you’d have the entire bed to ye’self while we kept bonnie company for the night. more room fer you to spread out as ye sleep.”

you felt your body run cold as you thought back to your first night; you’d thought perhaps one of them had overheard elliot’s thoughtless comments but you hadn’t realised they’d heard the entire conversation.

you laughed awkwardly at johnny’s suggestion as elliot insisted a little too seriously that nothing of the like would be happening.

simon thankfully interrupted the stand off between the three men at the table as he brought through dessert; a light chocolate sorbet with fresh raspberries.

you thanked him and took the opportunity to share the joke you’d been trying to remember since simon had shared his first pun when he’d brought out the starters.

“how does a french chef respond to bad egg jokes?” you asked and waited for simon’s shrug. “oeuf..."

you saw his eyes crinkle and assumed that was as close to a laugh that you’d get, feeling quite pleased with yourself.

“that’s a shit joke,” he said, but the amusement was clear in his voice. “enjoy your dessert.”

“thank you.” you took a big bite, groaning deep at the rich taste and tartness of the fruit. the prospect of brain-freeze unable to slow you down.

“fucking hell, would you behave?” elliot hissed in your ear.

gaz dropped his spoon with a clatter, and sniffed harshly, looking across at elliot with clear disdain.

“you need to stop disrespecting her, mate. she’s an adult, she’s enjoying a meal; leave her alone.”

“was i talking to you?” elliot said back, eager for the fight. “you don’t see me interfering with your relationship.”

“yeah, exactly. your lips were sealed when you thought johnny had my dick in his mouth at the table, but now you think you can get snappy?”

“she’ll learn her manners even if she does insist on being friends with you two,” elliot said.

you felt anger bubble at being ignored, talked about as though you weren’t there by both men.

johnny noticed your discomfort and nudged gaz, his posture loosening when he saw your lowered head, jutted jaw and the embarrassed purse of your lips.

“maybe we’ve all had too much to drink,” johnny said appeasingly. “more than we’d realised. simon’s always been a strong pour.”

“i agree. not that the cocktails weren’t lovely, but they must’ve gone to everyone’s heads quicker than expected. they were moorish,” you laughed, though it sounded thin and fake to your own ears.

gaz huffed through his nose heavily. he nodded and looked at you as he spoke. “i’ll go settle up with simon. if you need a hand walking back to the car you could wait with me?”

you nodded when elliot didn’t protest and johnny got up to help him.

you waited with gaz near the back of the room where simon had set up a little till station, a bowl of mints to the side that you felt swell of fondness for as you looked at them.

simon picked up on the awkward air immediately when he came out from the back, watched with keen eyes as you shuffled from foot to foot and sent anxious glances out the window in between compliments to the food.

“‘m making a cake soon,” he said out of the blue as gaz tapped his card, and you turned back to him, interest piqued. “any recommendations on flavour? bit tied at the minute.”

“oh.” you blinked. “i had a lemon poppyseed cake a few years ago that was to die for.”

simon watched you steadily for a moment before humming. he handed kyle his receipt. “tell johnny it was good t’see ’im.”

“you too, si.”

kyle offered you his arm to walk back to the car and you took it gladly, letting him help you to keep your footing until you were situated in the back with elliot.

the drive back felt exponentially longer in the silence. the lack of music, johnny’s chatter, or even your own ramblings had you on edge.

the silence from elliot continued into the house as he winced and hobbled up the stairs alone, refusing any more help than he’d already been forced to rely upon.

you followed behind him dutifully, mouthing a soft ‘thank you’ to gaz and soap at the stairs before disappearing into your room.

elliot waited for the door to close before he rounded on you.

“‘i’ve never done that before’,” he simpered, pitching his voice higher to mock you.

“elliot, i—“

“go ahead try and explain your way out of that one, hm? practically threw yourself at them,” he spat.

you scoffed.

“its not like i said yes to fucking them,” you reminded him, not mentioning the urge you’d felt at the time to do just that.

“didn’t say no either, did you?” elliot asked, his voice raising. “i think they were planning on bloody bedding you tonight in fact.”

“fucking hell. you’re being dramatic and- and silly,” you said in disbelief. “they were playing around. christ knows if i can get over what you did, then you can deal with them flirting a little.”

he moved swiftly despite his ankle and grabbed your arm tightly, ignoring your sharp gasp as he glared at you. “you need to start listening to me. we’re married, if you remember? so start behaving like it.”

“you’re hurting me, elliot.” when he didn’t let go you nodded quickly and spoke again. “i understand.”

“good.” he nodded and bent down to kiss your lips chastley. “then let’s go to bed.”

he let you go and limped over to the bed. you joined him a moment later, shaken as you tried to calm yourself enough to lay next to him and pretend to sleep.

---

johnny had set up breakfast outside the next morning while kyle had sorted out their few animals and checked for any stray sheep that needed to be shepherded closer to their neighbour’s land; taking their truck around the edge of the property.

“hey, got some brekkie outside if ye want to join? kyle’ll be back any minute now.”

you nodded and helped elliot across the garden as johnny brought the fresh orange juice with him for the table.

you thanked johnny for the broad spread and plated yourself some of the mixed fruit. when you heard a door slam, you turned to the driveway and saw kyle making his way down the side of the house to reach the garden. he waved when he caught you looking, readjusting his cap so his face wasn’t hidden by the brim as he came closer.

he bent to kiss johnny’s scarred temple before taking his seat and stealing a sip of his coffee, wincing at the bitterness.

“you tell ‘em yet?” kyle asked johnny in a low tone, putting the mug back and pouring himself a juice.

“not yet,” johnny replied. he cleared his throat when elliot lifted an eyebrow in question, having stayed stubbornly silent with johnny and now kyle. still moody from the evening before.

johnny sighed, almost awkwardly. “look, we didn’t mean to overhear, but conversations echo in an old home like ours,” he started. you immediately went cold. “there’s been a few things we’ve both heard over the last few days—“

elliot jumped in, finding his voice suddenly in the face of his reputation being squandered, even if it was just johnny and kyle. “whatever you heard was between myself and my wife. it’s an old mistake and we’ve worked through it to heal any wounds caused. we’re happier than ever now, aren’t we?” he threw his arm behind you to rest in the back of your chair, the picture of a perfect couple. you nodded placidly. he turned back to them. “our therapist is fantastic.”

“therapist?” kyle asked.

“yes, a couple’s therapist, but you see her a couple times a month alone too, don’t you, darling?” elliot said.

“we needed someone impartial to help us see through the fog,” you said, repeating the words elliot had used over a year ago to convince you to stay. “we were just running in circles about it.”

kyle nodded. “how’d you find this therapist then?”

“elliot found her,” you said.

“lucky she was such a good fit if she was the first one you tried,” kyle said mirthfully.

“well she’d helped me before so i knew she was good at her job,” elliot let slip.

you stiffened and slowly turned to face him. “what?”

“she just gave me some advice, helped me out of a few toxic relationships when i was younger, darling. nothing serious like us. i haven’t been married before if that’s what you’re thinking,” elliot tried to joke.

it was not what you were thinking. it was not what you were worrying about.

“when you were ‘younger’? you’ve known her for years?” you questioned. “she was meant to be fucking unbiased and you’re telling me you’ve used her to get you out of relationships before? what the fuck, elliot?” you seethed, your voice raising.

“darling—“

“you told me she was trustworthy!” you laughed mirthlessly as you thought back to your first session. “you said you’d never met her before, just another fucking lie for the tally is it? it’s feeling pretty endless at this point,” you scoffed.

elliot’s lips thinned as he pulled his arm back and looked at you, debating his next move.

“we went to university together,” he admitted. “we’re just friends.”

“oh christ, ‘friends’. good to know the woman i’ve been telling my deepest, darkest thoughts to has more personal loyalty to you and whether or not she’d keep my secrets is one too many drinks away,” you spat.

“she takes her work very seriously, she wouldn’t break confidentiality like that. she’s never told me anything you’ve said in a session that i wasn’t there for,” elliot pressed, reaching to hold your hand.

“and why should i believe you?” you yanked your hand back and stood, storming off towards the woodland at the back of the garden.

“always with the dramatics.” elliot shook his head. he stood and took a step to follow you but winced when the pressure on his ankle spiked a sharp ache up his shin.

soap and gaz stayed seated, watching him struggle silently.

when he slumped back into his seat johnny spoke up. “why don’t we take ye back inside? give her some space.”

elliot bit the inside of his cheek but knew disagreeing wasn’t an option. he jerkily nodded once.

kyle kept an eye on you as you stopped near the tree line, smiled, amused, when he saw you kick at a nearby tree trunk. you weren’t going any deeper into the start of the trail so there was no need for them to bother you, you needed time to process and work through your initial anger.

he grabbed a plate for himself and started to eat, grabbing bits he knew johnny would want when he got back. there was no point in wasting a dewy fresh morning and good food just because elliot was a moron.

they’d finished majority of their share of the food when they heard your footsteps heading back. you hadn’t lingered at the end of the grass for long, deciding to join them once more with a ducked head and an embarrassed hunch to your shoulders.

“are ye ok?” johnny asked carefully.

“yeah, yeah. fine. just annoyed, more than anything. embarrassed i made such a scene.”

“don’t be, if it were me ah’d ‘ve gone bananas hearing all’a that.” johnny waved you off.

“there’s only so much someone can take,” kyle added.

you nodded and felt a stray tear slip and in a flash the pair of them were tugging you out of your seat to wrap you in a warm hug.

“thank you, guys,” you said as you squeezed them back. you sent a weary look towards the house as the one thought that had been going around your head for the last half hour - the last year if you were being honest.

you were going to divorce elliot.

“you’ve done so much for us, for me, these last couple of days. how about i cook for you guys tonight? i make a pretty mean lasagne if you’ve got the stuff?”

the couple grinned. “i think we could find what you need.”

you finished your breakfast and headed back inside after the couple waved of your offer to help clear the table.

“we’ve got a bit to catch up on around the farm that we’ve put off since you arrived,” kyle said. “we’ll be back later on, but feel free to go where you like on the property, do what you like.”

“make ye’sen anything from the fridge if ye get hungry,” johnny added.

which left you with a slow day to entertain yourself. with kyle’s. words echoing in your mind you headed to the large bookcase on the living room and grabbed the first book that caught your eye. sitting in the armchair diagonal to the sofa where elliot was watching their tv from, you curled up and silently began to read. you weren’t ready to talk to elliot yet, but you knew he’d need a hand throughout the day and you didn’t want to add onto johnny and kyle’s already long list of things to do.

you caught gaz and soap nipping in and out throughout the day and when it timed right, you refilled their flasks with steaming tea before they were off out again.

the book lasted you the day, thoroughly engrossing you in the story, and elliot played nice for once, giving his p’s and q’s when you handed him a fresh cuppa and even cautiously squeezing your hip in appreciation when you passed by towards the end of the day.

“i’m making lasagne,” you said as he waited for your response.

“sounds lovely, darling.”

you were still angry at him, but it turned to despondency when you saw that johnny had taken the time to set the ingredients aside for you on the counter and in the fridge. elliot had never done that for you.

such small things were missing, it wasn’t just his cheating, but that had been the linchpin for this longwinded realisation that you just weren’t happy together.

you lost yourself in the preparation of the meal, not noticing your company as you started layering the sauces and pasta sheets. johnny and gaz came lumbering in, clearly tired but obviously satisfied with the work they’d completed in the day and hovered by your side.

“ah hen, that looks good. think i could eat the lot t’ ma’sael,” johnny groaned.

“you bloody dare,” kyle threatened, leaning ober his shoulder to see what you were doing. “we’ll clean up upstairs and leave you to it.”

“it should be cooked in the next 40 minutes, so take your time,” you said, gently elbowing them away so you could put the tray in the oven.

they nodded, and you got to cleaning up after yourself.

a nudge at your hip what felt like only a few minutes later had you looking up in surprise and smiling at kyle as he dried the dishes you’d washed. it was painfully domestic and you looked over your shoulder to see johnny wiping down the countertops.

“has kyle told ye ‘bout the market?”

“yeah, in two days’ time right?”

“aye, you should come with us when we go. will be a right laugh,” johnny offered.

“i’d love to,” you agreed, not sparing a thought for how elliot would deal with the journey or get around the market once he was there with you. you wanted to be selfish about this. “what are you thinking of taking?”

“got a fair bit of fruit and veg lined up, some pickles stuff i’ve been working on, a few woodwork projects gaz brings along,” johnny listed.

“you sell your work?”

“just small stuff like fence signs, ‘welcome home’ plaques, small coffee tables,” kyle said bashfully.

“you should bring your charcoal drawings too, johnny, i bet people would love to see their countryside lovingly captured,” you suggested.

“ah, maybe,” he hedged. you huffed, surprised that this was what got the pair shy. “should’ve brought some’a yer own paintings to sell, bon.”

“oh fuck, i forgot my paint set at home,” you said, deflated. “i was really looking forward to painting sometime. in fact today would’ve been perfect for it.” you pouted, annoyed at yourself doubly.

“ye can just borrow some of my stuff,” johnny said easily. “what’s mine is yours, yeah?”

you blinked. “uhm, sure.” you cleared your throat. “thank you, johnny,” you said a little more gratefully.

“think that lasagne might be finished,” kyle said as he stood. “i’ll set the table.”

you nodded and went to help elliot while johnny pulled out the dish and scooped it onto four plates.

“looks delicious, you’ve outdone ye’self here,” johnny cooed. you grinned and felt pride bloom when all three of the men sat at the table groaned at the taste.

“can i make a toast before you all finish in one bite?” you asked playfully. kyle was quick to nod and put down his fork, swapping it for his glass of water. “to lasting friendships and new starts.”

elliot frowned but lifted his glass.

“cheers tae tha’,” johnny said, taking a quick swig before shovelling another spoonful off his plate.

---

with dinner a certified success and your mind made up about your marriage, you found it easier to forgive your husband for what he’d let slip at breakfast.

you headed to bed, peaceful in your decision, and smiled at elliot as you changed into your pyjamas.

“darling…” he started, hesitant for one of the first times in your relationship. you sat next to him on the bed, ignoring the way it squeaked beneath your weight. “i truly am sorry for not telling you— for lying to you about sarah. she’s the most qualified person i know in the field, i just wanted the best for you, for us. i didn’t think about how it would look in the long run.”

of course he didn't, because he never thought about how you felt. you took his hand and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles.

“i forgive you, elliot. mistakes happen,” you said simply.

“yeah?” he asked, his grin and confidence growing. he slipped his hand free to cup your face and pulled you in for an eager kiss. “thank you, darling. i knew you’d understand.”

his eyes darkened as he looked at you, his hand dropped from your cheek to your shoulder and trailed down the long sleeved shirt you slept in.

“you know, you were right at dinner the other night,” he said, and plucked at the bottom of the shirt. “we haven’t had much time for each other recently. maybe we should rectify that.”

of everything you could've guessed elliot would have said to you after everything, that wouldn't have been one of them.

“your ankle,” you reminded him stiltedly. “you’re meant to rest .”

“i’ve been resting,” he said impatiently. “but either way, i’m sure we can work around that.”

“the walls are thin,” you said, hoping it came across as shy instead of reluctant. you were disinclined to fuck your husband now that you’d accepted you wanted better, more.

but you supposed you could give him a quick handjob and call it a night, his complaints be damned. you saw the frustration bleed clearer in his expression with each excuse.

you pushed him back into the pillows and climbed over him to settle in close at his side. guiding his chin up you kissed him in soft little pecks that led across his cheek until you could nuzzle along his jaw and gently nip and lick at his neck. you lifted your palm up and licked a broad stripe across before slipping it beneath his boxers, soaking up his groan as your slick palm wrapped around his base.

you always were a sucker for knowing you were doing a good job, even now when you weren't too invested.

you pulled him free from his boxers and tightened your grip as you moved in deliberate, slow pumps. keeping your eyes low, you watched the first spurt of pre dribble down before it was quickly gathered by your fingers and spread laxly over his head and back down the shaft.

“oh fuck, that’s it, darling. just a bit quicker and tighter for me, go on,” he encouraged.

you did as he asked, twisting your wrist and pressing your thumb to his slit. you felt him shudder and the arm he’d wrapped around you tightened incrementally.

“feel good?” you asked and squeezed tighter on your next pump. he was leaking enough that the glide was slick and easy, the friction causing him to groan.

“fuck, i think im gonna- gonna cum,” he whined and you took that as a hint to focus on his head, swirling your palm in tight motions until his hips were lifting off of the bed to push into your sticky grip. he came with a low gasp, his breath hot and damp across your forehead.

you waited for him to hiss in sensitivity before you let him go and sat up, keeping your palm away from your clean pjs.

“just let me wash up then we can go to sleep,” you said.

elliot sleepily nodded, his eyes already half closed. you sighed.

---

with a jolt, you suddenly woke with elliot hovering over you; he was already dressed, though the lack of light itching to burst past the curtains let you know it wasn’t yet morning. you were disoriented and confused as he whispered rushed mutterings.

“elliot?”

“shh,” he held his finger to his lips, eyes flickering to the bedroom door. “you need to pack, we have to go.”

“what? no, what time is it?” you sat up and brushed his hands away from you. he stopped tugging at your arm and instead pulled away the duvet.

“there was an emergency, we have to go. now.” elliot repeated. “please darling, quickly.”

“an emergency?” your ears pricked even as you read the time, 5am, on your phone. “what emergency?”

“i’ll explain on the way,” he said vaguely, finally pulling you out of the bed and hissing when he pressed too much weight on his ankle.

“elliot, slow down. just tell me what’s happened, im not leaving here without saying goodbye to—“

“shut up. for once just do as i say,” elliot rounded on you suddenly and gripped your neck tightly. you reflexively pulled at his wrist to ease up the pressure and nodded as best you could with his broad palm pressed snugly against your throat, his thumb and fingers hooked at the edges of your jaw. “we’re leaving. we have to go, and i mean now.”

he let you go and you stayed quiet, muffling your coughs into your elbow. he was hasty in his own packing, rushing you along all the while and stumbled with his bag on the stairs, irritating his injury enough to let out a sharp gasp.

you ducked under his arm and helped him hop to the car, sending pensive looks behind you the whole time, guilt churning in your gut.

“are you sure you can drive, elliot?” you asked finally, hesitating to put on your seatbelt once you were sat in the passenger seat.

he shushed you rudely and gritted his teeth as he pressed on the clutch.

the drive back down the winding lanes towards the main road was rough, the car stuttering every time elliot’s ankle succumbed to and crumbled under the pressure he needed for the clutch, his leg flinching up and the seatbelt catching you before you jerked too far forward.

“where’s my phone? i need to call work, i need— where is it?” he hissed, patting his pockets and checking the holders in the car, hardly watching the road.

“you don’t have it?” you asked, confused.

“it was charging on your side of the bed,” he reminded you impatiently.

“then how did you know about the emergen—“ you realised with a sudden sick roll of your stomach, that he’d lied. again.

he was pissy you had a few days left of the holiday, that he wasn’t enjoying himself but you were. you had two days left but he he didn’t want to be around them anymore so he faked an emergency, because surely he’d have had his phone if that were true. fuck, no wonder he was being vague about it all, he wanted time to make up something detrimental at work or perhaps even to do with a friend that would be fine with lying to you. he certainly had his pick of them.

he span the car around angrily and you held on to the door handle as the tyres squealed. “you’ll need to go in and get it as quickly as possible.”

“sure,” you said blandly. you were sick of trusting him and getting fucked over for it every time. would you ever learn?

yes. the divorce would make this the last time you let him walk all over you.

you didn’t bother trying to quieten your steps along the gravel back up to the house. part of you hoped johnny or kyle heard your steps and came down to stop you leaving while the other half worried what elliot would do if you dawdled.

you mumbled to yourself, pissed off and chuntering, as you walked into the kitchen, expecting it to be empty and to be able to nip upstairs and grab elliot’s mobile and be gone again, an apologetic text already drafted in your mind for johnny and kyle.

however the pair of them were already in the kitchen, a third man stood with them. johnny jumped from his chair and wrapped you in his arms immediately, causing you to squeak when he squeezed tight.

“we were worried you’d left,” gaz said from where he leant against the kitchen counter, the mysterious man stood silent opposite him. “fretting we’d done something wrong.”

johnny let you go finally so you could reply, his big blue eyes staring down at you intensely.

“oh, uhm, i’m sorry,” you started, stuttering through an explanation. an excuse. “we uhm, we did go but it’s because i woke with bad stomach pains.” you felt yourself retreat into your shoulders, hunched and embarrassed with such focused attention on you. “elliot was worried, said we should go to the hospital maybe, uhm, so we left without saying goodbye. in a hurry. sorry.”

you noticed the third man staring at your neck and reflexively lifted a hand to cover the area, hoping to feel whatever he was staring at, thinking your shirt might've had the tag stuck out at the front given how dazedly you'd dressed earlier. instead you sucked in a thin breath when your hand pressed against sensitive bruising.

you broke eye contact immediately and dropped your hand to your collar bone, felt your cheeks heat in a putrid mix of anger and humiliation.

“we found his phone in yer room still,” johnny said and pulled elliot’s mobile from his back pocket. “glad ye came back fer it, but if yer ill was it really so important?”

you floundered for a moment, eyes glued to his hand, before gaz spoke up.

“might’ve just been the booze from last night, yeah? sometimes it doesn’t settle well, simon forgets what the average person can stomach,” kyle said. he winked. “it’d be especially rough for lightweights.”

you rolled your eyes playfully but didn’t deny it.

“it still hurting?” johnny asked, his free hand drifting close so his fingertips could trace your stomach lightly in the opening of your jacket.

you clamped your own hand over your soft tummy and nodded, feigning a stomach ache.

“let me make ye some chucky eggs and a chamomile tea to ease it off,” johnny offered and dropped elliot’s phone on the table roughly. “a light hangover cure coming right up, don’t figure you’d want a hearty, greasy brekkie like what i do fer me an’ gaz when we’re hangin'.”

gaz pushed off the side and gently corralled you into a seat, pushing it in for you afterwards and letting his hands linger on you shoulders. you couldn’t help but nod and go along with their sweet touches, even as you thought of elliot sat waiting in his car. they were being nicer than anyone had been in a long time when you’d been ‘ill’.

it felt like they were being careful with you. it almost made you feel even guiltier for lying to them.

the third man coughed and looked at kyle with raised eyebrows, his heavy facial hair hiding any mirth that might have hidden around his mouth.

“ah, where are my manners? love, this is price, our pest control guy,” kyle said as he hovered by your chair. “sometimes when we’re too busy to handle it, we get price in to shoot the foxes that are eating the hens. we’d called him last week since we’ve been having a few issues, completely forgot after you arrived.”

you nodded along, though you couldn’t remember seeing or hearing any foxes over the last few days, even on the late evenings.

“he’s a good man, won’t be a bother,” johnny added. “in fact it was good that he arrived when he did or we’d have had no clue ye were gone.”

“it’s nice to meet you,” you said, and took his meaty hand when he offered it. as you looked into his pale eyes you saw something mean to him. hidden behind his soft, placid smile and easy nod there was a sharp glint in his eyes he couldn’t hide.

you knew without asking that he enjoyed his job, enjoyed hunting, and you were suddenly glad you wouldn’t have to witness it going by johnny’s promise that he'd be out of the way.

johnny handed you a earthy smelling cup and you slowly sipped and watched him hover by the toaster as the eggs boiled in their pan, waiting to butter then slice the toast into dippable pieces.

he’d just scooped the eggs into their little cups and played them beside the toast when your husband limped in, stumbling at the unexpected sight of gaz and johnny. he sent you a baleful look as he took in the scene before him and you ducked your head back towards your boiled eggs.

“we were wondering when you might turn up, mate,” kyle said, finally taking his seat next to yours. “was just introducing the missus to price.”

“poor girl said she was ill?” price said and elliot clung on to the excuse.

“ah yeah, she’s always been a drama queen this one. wanted to head home as soon as she started feeling a little under the weather,” he said. he looked down to your plate. “feeling better now, though, i see.”

price’s gaze turned frigid as he stared at your husband. he looked to johnny for a moment, who nodded once, before turning back to your husband.

“you ever gone hunting before?” he asked. “do a bit for the lads here when they’re tied up in more important things, could take you out when i go looking for foxes today.”

elliot jumped at the chance, even with his ankle.

watching price, you felt rude for the voice in the back of your head that was telling you this man was not to be trusted. he was nice from what you could tell, charming even, if not commanding. you assumed he perhaps had a similar background to johnny and kyle with how he held himself, that his gruff exterior was likely earned from years in the service, but despite that something in you bristled all the same in a way it hadn’t so far. looking at elliot however, you realised he felt far differently; price’s casual dominance had managed to bring your husband to heel.

“great, we’ll keep bonnie company for the morning and if she starts to feel faint again, we’ll look after her,” johnny said and clapped elliot on the shoulder.

---

the couple hardly gave you time to let your breakfast settle before they whisked you off onto a trail behind their house again and after a short walk you got to see the view kyle had shown you on his phone originally in france.

“said you wanted to try painting it, so here we are,” kyle said.

“i don’t have my stuff with me.” you frowned, remembering speaking about it before.

“ahh, we came prepared.” johnny took off his bag and rooted through it, pulling out three small drawing pads and a water colour set. “no wine this time,” johnny teased. “an’ we’ll have tae share the paints.”

“then what’re we waiting for?” you asked excitedly.

barely twenty minutes in you quickly found that this was the one thing the pair of them couldn’t do.

gaz struggled the most, claiming after barely ten minutes that he was going down an abstract route with his, and despite his teasing, it didn’t take johnny much longer after that to admit that his skill lay in charcoal.

you had spent the better part of the morning on your painting, but at the last minute painted over the same branch until the colour was too dark, overworked and leaking a little into the leaves.

“fuck,” you huffed and dabbed it with your sleeve. elliot would scowl at the mess but you were distracted, worried about what johnny and kyle thought of your lie earlier that morning and your rude almost-exit. “i’m sorry about this morning,” you said finally.

“there’s nothing to apologise for,” kyle said immediately. “you’re still here, right?”

“still, i just—“

“hen, please. you’re fine, you’re forgiven if that’s what ye need t’hear.” johnny smiled. “maybe we should head back, ahm craving a hot choccy like nobodies business sat out here in the cold.”

"we can get lunch started," gaz suggested before turning to you. "What are you craving, love?"

---

you had reached the garden when you heard a shot echo from the woods.

“must’ve found the den,” kyle said in response to your tense shoulders, but your husband's scream following a moment later had your head whipping across the lawn.

with wide eyes you watched the tree line, stubbornly still even as kyle and johnny tried to encourage you further down towards the farmhouse. you felt your hands twitch as your husband burst from the overgrown bushes, pushing out of a trail you’d have never known was there otherwise.

at his desperate, fearful face you turned to kyle for support automatically, johnny nowhere to be seen, but found his eyes were dark and hooded where he watched elliot struggle to hobble over to you. his stance was lazy; you’d almost think he was uninterested if you hadn’t noticed the way he’d not blinked since your husband’s running figure had breached the bushes, but you could tell he was entirely focused on elliot.

as he got closer you noticed the blood streaking down his face from a large cut across his forehead and his broken nose; evident from it's quick bruising.

he looked like he’d been hit with the solid flat side of something head on. at the sight of tears in his eyes you suddenly jumped into action and met him halfway, helping hold him up as he tried to move quickly away from the forest behind.

“he’s trying to kill me, he’s going to— he attacked me, he wants to kill me, we need to leave,” he babbled, nasally. “we have to go, please.”

“let’s take a second to breathe, mate, yeah? come on, sit down inside and tell us what’s happened,” kyle said reasonably.

“no! i’m not fucking staying here, you’re all crazy,” elliot said and tried to pull you along passed the kitchen door. “he’s a fucking psycho, he attacked me with the fucking— the thing, the gun!”

“i’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” kyle insisted, but you recognised a hint of impatience to his tone and it had you continuing to walk with elliot to your car. “if you slow down, we can figure this out.”

“kyle… even if this was an accident, i think someone should look at the cut,” you said. the blood had dripped far enough to begin to soak into elliot’s collar and stain the material.

“no, no, no,” elliot suddenly mumbled and you turned forward to look at the car. your eyes locked onto the flat wheel and you felt your stomach drop.

“elliot…” you whispered.

“get in the fucking car,” he ordered and pushed away from you to round to the passenger side.

dread spread like ice to your fingertips and toes and you flinched out of kyle’s hold when he reached for your arm from behind. you span around to face him and stumbled back a step towards the car, only breaking eye contact with kyle when you saw movement from the garage.

johnny. he was dusting off his hands as he walked and you felt your panic rise and thrash. you’d not lent a thought as to where he’d gone when elliot had appeared bloody and frantic, but in the back of your mind you supposed you’d thought he’d continued on to the house; whether for a first aid kit or to start those hot chocolates you didn’t know.

looking at him then, trousers freshly scuffed on one knee with mud where you supposed he must’ve knelt to slash your tyre, your head suddenly felt heavy and your breath came short.

you were just confused. they were so kind to you, understanding, and now elliot was hurt and something in your gut told you they were involved, too casual in the face of such a graphic injury and accusation.

kyle was eerily quiet as you slowly started to piece it together. you swallowed nervously.

“what— what’s going on, kyle?”

“it’s nothing you need to worry about, love,” he said softly. “come on, come inside with me and johnny’ll sort out elliot.”

it felt weird hearing him say your husband’s name for the first time, especially in this situation. it raised your hackles when you’d have thought it would ease your worry.

“aye, just a spot of bad luck, nothing we can’t fix,” johnny said as he edged closer.

“get in the fucking car, what are you waiting for?” elliot yelled.

“don’t do it, love,” kyle warned.

you shook your head and scrambled for the front seat, locking the door behind you. it had been years since you last drove; moving to london meant it wasn’t necessary and on the odd trips you took with elliot he’d always insisted on driving. pushing on the pedals now felt like learning anew, especially with the flat.

kyle and johnny watched you reverse with frowns on their faces, arms crossed and stood tall.

“speed up, fucking hell, get on the main road already before they catch up,” elliot hissed, eyes wild.

the gears grinded as you tried to speed up down the short road that led to their house, the steering wheel fighting against you on the uneven road and flat tyre. you glanced in the rear view mirror at elliot’s words, worried they were already on your tail but they were still stood still.

you wondered briefly if they really were just trying to help when you suddenly spun out on the gravel leading up to the barn.

your head smacked into the wheel as the car slammed to a stop against the fence and you groaned as you sat up, panting and clinging uncomfortably tight to the steering wheel as you tried to blink the stars from your eyes and gather your bearings. everything was going too fast, the afternoon turned upside down so quick.

elliot clambered out of the car, limping towards the barn without giving a second look back towards you. with weak hands you pushed open the door and followed him, shaken but uninjured.

you followed him into the barn and he slammed the door behind you, slotting the latch down as though that would do much good to keep anyone out for long.

“that man, price, he tried to shoot me,” elliot whispered, fresh tears mixing with the blood on his cheek. “when i fought him he punched me and then hit me with the gun. i had to run for my life, i think ive bloody broken this ankle, if it wasn’t already.”

“what do we do?” you asked, voice wobbly and quiet. “where can we go? they’re— they’ll be outside already.”

“we need to hide,” he said. you clenched your eyes shut. that didn’t sound like much of a plan.

“what if kyle and johnny aren’t in on it?” you asked hopefully. if they weren’t that gave you more options to escape price at least.

elliot went to speak but the sound of another door opening had you freezing in place like deer. you’d not thought about other entrances, not thought about how you’d come in a completely different door when you’d visited marmite.

hide, elliot mouthed before diving behind a pile of boxes, covering himself with the loose corner of tarpaulin.

you moved further back into the barn and watched as johnny came in to view. he whistled as he let his eyes wander around the large barn, winking across to marmite.

“where could he be, marm? eh?” he asked rhetorically, stopping beside elliot’s hiding spot. you noticed belatedly that the awkward way your husband held his ankle to ease the pain meant it stuck out glaringly, his expensive trainers clear as day.

you wanted to call out, give him a chance to make a break for it, but your voice failed you and you watched as johnny stomped his heavy boot onto elliot’s ankle.

you sobbed at the scream he let out as it echoed in the barn. shivering at the pain in his voice as you muffled your own cried behind your palm.

johnny yanked him out of his hiding spot and dragged him back outside through the open door, laughing at elliot’s gasps and whines of pain.

you spotted a shovel opposite you and grabbed it following close behind, careful not to make any noise. you raised the shovel high with gritted teeth, ready to swing, when kyle’s arms wrapped around you, tight and restricting.

he stole the makeshift weapon from your hands too easily and threw it out of reach as johnny watched with wide, impressed eyes focused on you, elliot whimpering at his feet.

one second you were struggling in kyle’s grip and the next you were winded, wrestled to the ground at johnny’s feet with kyle pressed to your back.

“ready t’watch, hen?” johnny asked gleefully, kicking elliot out of his feral position before kneeling over him. he glanced at you to make sure you were watching and kyle’s broad palm came up to cup your chin, his fingers digging into your cheeks to make sure you were facing towards them.

“doin’ this f’r you,” johnny said earnestly before bringing his fist down in a heavy punch, hitting elliot’s cheek hard enough it recoiled into the solid ground below him.

you watched with bleary eyes as johnny beat your husband until his face was sunken, didn’t blink as he grabbed a nearby rock to continue until elliot’s arms stopped prying at johnny’s chest and face and his breaths eventually stilled.

“please stop, please, you’re hurting him, please stop.” you hadn’t realised you’d been mumbling, begging and pleading, while johnny’s hands dripped red.

“you’re ok, pretty,” kyle cooed against your temple, his lips brushing softly against your skin like light kisses.

he nuzzled your cheek where his thumb dug into the squishy flesh as you heard footsteps.

“need help cleaning up?” price asked.

“only this one as planned, sir,” johnny said as he pushed himself back onto his feet, groaning at the pressure on his knee.

“could’ve been a bit cleaner about it,” kyle complained.

“you saw how he was treating her?” price confirmed. “right then. and you’ve both spent time with him alone, know he’s fucking insufferable.”

gaz huffed a short breath through his nose. “being polite with that one, cap.”

“i think i did well lasting the full mornin’ with him,” price said haughtily, grabbing your husband by the collar and hefting him up halfway off the ground while johnny grabbed one of his arms to help. “let him run this far, did ya?”

“was fun watching him tire himself out,” kyle said and you clenched your hand trapped beneath your body.

“doesnae matter now, the jobs done,” johnny said. “we can fix this.” he waved to you and kyle and you shivered.

kyle eased up on your back and let go of your face as you watched them drag elliot’s body towards the back garden and the woods, presumably where the shallow grave they'd prepared for him was.

“right, love,” he started, and you took advantage of his slip in concentration and the looser hold to swing your elbow up and back into his face. he reared back and you rolled him off of your hips the rest of the way, scrambling up onto your feet and sprinting away as soon as you were free.

“fucking hell,” he swore loudly.

you didn’t dare look back, already feeling like your steps were too slow already as you aimed for their car instead of your own.

you imagined finding their keys magically in the ignition or in the drivers seat visor and being able to drive off without a bump, find help and—

you were suddenly hit from the side, johnny's full weight heaved into yours as he shoulder barged you against their car door so roughly your head bounced off of the truck’s window with a crack.

your knees crumbled on impact, all strength leaving your body and replaced with pain as you slumped to the floor.

your vision swam as he laughed excitedly and crouched before you. “fucking’ wily one, you, hen,” he crowed and reached out to pat your face. “c’mon, up ye get.”

he hefted you up, gripping you under your arms even as you tried to wiggle away, pain flashing across your eyes when you moved your head too quick.

“christ almighty, yer stunning,” he gushed. he opened the door with one hand and slipped in backwards, leaving his feet planted on the edge of the door as he dragged you to lean over the seat and his lap until your toes were just scraping the ground. “such a beautiful wife.”

you whined at the uncomfortable position, the pressure the edge of the seat put on your tummy, but you couldn’t move due to how harsh his grip on your arms was as he rested your head in his lap. “lemme go,” you groaned.

he scratched lightly at the back of your neck and grinned at the goosebumps that flared up.

he’d only just gotten you settled fully into position when you felt a second pair of hands at your arse. you jolted in his grip, but the firm body behind you stopped you from moving too far. pressed completely between them like a pinned butterfly.

kyle didn’t hesitate once he saw you were unable to move far, didn’t bother to ease you into it, snaking one hand to your front to release the button on your jeans and then pulling both your jeans and pants over your arse to tangle at your knees. he palmed at the bare skin revealed, nudging a knee between your thick thighs when you tried to kick back at him.

“fuck you,” you seethed. “get the fuck off of me.”

“you don’t have to play pretend anymore, love, elliot’s not here to get mad,” kyle said. he squeezed your hips and groaned. “fucking hell, bet you’re wet already, drooling in johnny’s lap like that.”

you gritted your teeth and tried to gain some firmer footing but the shift of your legs only encouraged the pair and the breeze against your pussy had you tensing.

“oh baby, you’re really desperate for it, yeah?” kyle cooed meanly. he lifted his hand to johnny, sticking two fingers out. “get these wet for me, eh, soap?”

you couldn’t look up from how johnny held you close, but you felt him lean forward, heard the eager, wet noises as he sucked at kyle’s fingers with abandon.

kyle pulled them free with a slick pop and trailed them between your legs, slipping one inside your pussy even as you winced at the too-dry stretch, johnny's spit not lending enough give to kyle’s long finger.

“gonna thank us for getting rid a’him?” johnny asked, squeezing your neck.

you felt your lips wobble and hid further into his lap. feeling humiliated as they laughed. endeared by your cowed behaviour.

gaz was quick to get with the program, knowing he wouldn't get much further and slipped his finger free with a gentle shush in your ear. he tilted your hips up and wedged his arm between you and the car seat, planted his spit-slick fingers over your clit instead and rubbed in sharp circles until you were squirming.

“there ya go,” johnny said. “that’ll do ‘er.”

“shh, be a good girl for us,” kyle grunted. “c’mon, don’t fight it, love, make it easy on yourself.”

you felt your hips twitch against his hand as he focused meanly on your clit until your pussy was clenching and creaming around nothing.

you let out a ragged gasp, your voice breaking as kyle continued to pinch and play with your throbbing clit for a moment longer until you felt a whine build in the back of your throat. you clenched your teeth to hold it back and pushed your face into johnny's solid thigh.

when kyle saw your resistance he ran his fingers lower until they met the hot slick leaking from your cunt and grinned with accomplishment up at his husband.

“don’t worry love, it’ll feel good. i’ll make sure of it,” kyle promised against the sensitive skin of your neck.

he slipped his finger in again, easier this time, and followed it too quickly after with a second. you groaned at the stretch, your hot panting breaths damp against johnny’s tented trousers. the instinct to bite his cock through his jeans and not let go like an untrained dog flashed through your mind as the start of an escape plan, but johnny gently stroked the apple of your cheek and it distracted you enough to lose the thought and chicken out last minute.

“no need t’worry, bonnie. ahm no’ gonna make ye take my cock at the same time, not today,” he said soothingly. “ah know how overwhelming two at a time can be.”

you felt sick as you identified the feeling blooming in your chest as relief and gratefulness. felt worse when you thought it could just be pure pleasure as kyle’s fingers learned the shape of you.

“so bloody tight, don’t know how i’ll fit, johnny,” kyle complained good-naturedly, a sly smile plastered across his face.

“she’s made fer it, gaz,” johnny insisted, mumbled a gruff, our good girl as he looked down at you. “test her out already.”

“no,” you whined, knowing he’d barely gotten his third finger in.

kyle took johnny’s encouragement as blanket permission and pulled his fingers free, chuckling at the rhythmic clenching of your pussy.

“christ if you could see this, john,” he said with awe. “look at that pretty pussy, just begging for me. eager to please, aren’t you?”

you tensed at the sound of a zipper, thrashed when you felt the head of his cock push between your glistening lips, slicking it up not nearly enough before he prodded a little more insistently.

your hands gripped at johnny’s leg and the car seat as he pushed the head in, your brows furrowed as he panted behind you.

“there ye go, hen, give it all t’him,” johnny cooed, eyes molten as he watched kyle fuck into you for the first time.

“need to try your arse next time if this is how tight your pussy is,” kyle moaned. he pushed in a little further and you whined, sucking in a sharp breath when he pulled back out again. johnny chuckled, lifting one hand to wrap around kyle’s neck, his thumb petted softly at his adam’s apple as kyle bit his lip and leant into the pressure.

he thrusted in and out slowly, going deeper with each push back in and testing your resolve as you tried to bite back your sounds.

“let us hear ye,” johnny pouted, pulling his hand back to push two fingers into your mouth. he held it hinged open on kyle’s next thrust and you let out a deep gargled noise.

kyle huffed, his cock leaking pre inside you.

“how’s she feel, garrick?”

“like sin,” he sighed. “tightened up as soon as you got your fingers in her mouth.”

“dirty little slut,” johnny said, delighted. “maybe not so much our good girl after all.”

your orgasm crept up on you, focused as you were on staying quiet and still, when kyle’s hand drifted from where he’d been palming your arse it barely took a moment of attention to your clit to have you reeling.

“there we go, fuck. look at that,” kyle groaned as you tightened up, a flood of slick leaking out with every pull of his cock and gathering at his pubes on the thrust back in. “give it to me.”

you gasped and moaned around johnnys fingers, drooling down his palm and into his lap. you saw through hazy eyes how his cock jumped in its confines, eager for attention and the pleasure gaz had described.

kyle moaned, his thrusts getting rougher, uneven. “keep cumming, love, take it.”

“fucking temptation incarnate,” johnny whispered as you pushed back into kyle’s hand and cock trying to prolong your own pleasure.

kyle folded over you and thrust in his cock hard and shallow, hips bruising your butt cheeks as he groaned. he stilled and you felt the flood of his cum settle deep and heavy, a sudden spark of anxiety kicking through your afterglow.

you didn’t acknowledge the part that gleefully thought of the possibility of a baby, finally.

you shivered, slumped in johnny's lap as he held you up when gaz slipped out, whistling in appreciation at the sight of the pair of you. you felt gaz lightly tap his cockhead against your butt cheek with a wet plap before he tucked himself away again.

“don’t let it drip,” johnny reminded gaz before too much of his cum could dribble out of your puffy hole. kyle was gentle as he tugged up your pants, even when he patted the gusset crudely before bending low for your jeans. he pulled you back up against his chest as johnny shuffled forwards and out of the truck cab, plastering himself to your front once he was on the ground.

you ducked your head to avoid his kiss and he chuckled. “still so shy after tha’?”

they shuffled you back to the farmhouse, pressed so close to your sides that it made it impossible for you to lose your footing, both of them keeping you upright even as your legs felt like jelly.

they got you laid down in their bed, the room closer to yours and elliot’s than you’d realised.

it felt like a herculean task keeping your eyes open despite the mid-afternoon sun shining through the window. if you could bring yourself to string more than two thoughts together you’d think it was the shock or the adrenaline crash. but for the moment you could only think about how pretty gaz looked stood at the corner of the bed smiling or how warm johnny felt kneeling between your legs.

at the feeling of your jeans being removed again, you frowned.

“what’re y’doin’?” you slurred, a second away from passing out.

“shh, bonnie,” johnny whispered. “y’r fine.”

you felt his fingers tease at the opening of your cunt, playing with the cum trickling out, tacky and sticky where some had dribbled down your thighs.

he groaned and stuck his fingers in his mouth as kyle laughed.

you drifted in and out, barely registering the feeling of his cock rubbing through the mess and nudging at your clit, his own leaking pre only adding to the smooth glide.

you passed out finally to the feeling of his teeth at your neck, his groans in your ear and kyle’s eyes watching over you both fondly.

---

you woke up slowly, your head thumping and it took you a moment to recall where you were and what had happened. you sat up slowly and saw you were alone in their room.

you cringed at the dried cum between your legs and the way your skin stuck to itself and the sheets. if it wasn’t for the physical proof crusting on your skin and the smell of their aftershaves on the duvet, you think you might’ve been able to convince yourself none of it had happened.

your threw back the duvet when you were sure they weren’t about to jump out at you and grabbed your trousers from the floor.

you hesitantly pushed open the door to the left of the room and found an en suite bathroom.

with a sigh of relief you closed and locked it behind you and started cleaning yourself up in the sink with hurried movements. a shower would've been preferable but you weren’t willing to risk the noise or the time, so scrubbing away the cum, sweat and tears with your hands and some soap would have to do.

it took all of your energy to keep yourself calm as you felt sticky globs of cum drip from inside you and replace what you’d just cleaned on the inside of your thighs.

you got dressed hastily and peeked out of the window to try and spot johnny or kyle prowling outside. when you saw no sign of either, you held your breath and cracked open the bedroom door. when they didn’t appear from nowhere waiting to catch you trying to leave, you crept down the creaky stairs, sucking in a tight breath as if it could make you lighter and the stairs any quieter.

you cringed as you made it down and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw the kitchen empty.

your eyes zeroed in on the knife block and you scampered over to it and grabbed the biggest one, sufficiently sharp.

you snuck out the back way to avoid the sound of your trainers on the gravel out front; given your last escape attempt you figured they’d have their car locked and keys kept safe so there was no point attempting the cars again at the front and you weren’t sure you’d be able to outrun them all the way to the main road out in the open. whereas the forest out back would provide enough cover for you to make your way to… well, you didn’t really know where, part of you thought you could maybe find their elusive neighbour while another thought you’d more likely get lost in there trying.

better the devil you know, the traitorous voice whispered.

you shook your head and looked around frantically, your head on a constant swivel as you jogged across the garden, eyes peeled for a hint of any of the three of them. you slowed as you neared the veg plot to the right and the open grass and shed to the left.

you headed left, despite the lack of cover it proved, it was closer to the woods trail you knew and although there was nowhere for you to hide it meant there was also nowhere for them to be lying in wait, unlike all the tall climbing veg you’d originally been impressed by on your first day.

“think we should probably ring him later to see—“

you span around at the sound of their voices drifting on the wind, and saw them making their way from the front of the house. panicking, you jumped towards the nearest hiding spot - the little shed.

it was unlocked, but you were too worked up to wonder were the thick lock you’d seen days prior had gone. despite the sun shining through the little windows, it was dark in the little shed. you cursed not having your phone on you for the light but figured you’d have not wanted to garner the attention either way.

you could tell it was clean from the smell, whatever was stored in there was well looked after. shelves were pushed against the back and right side of the shed, full of boxed items.

johnny’s sister’s items, you remembered.

you stepped forward quietly, dropping the knife onto a lower shelf when a stack of photo albums caught your eye. you picked one up at random and flicked it open to find a picture of soap and gaz, younger and stood in their fatigues. You flicked further in and saw another of them in their civvies, then a third of them in their wedding suits.

why wouldn’t they keep this in their house?

the next book answered your question as you looked at kyle and johnny wrapped around a woman in a wedding dress. you paused, your breath hitching before you looked at the next few photos quicker, the unknown woman was dressed casual for a few pages, then replaced by a third unknown man in a suit.

there were less photos of him dressed casually before he was replaced by another woman in the same dress as before; then another, a man in a suit. they kept changing, never lasting more than ten pages in the albums as kyle and johnny got older through the photos.

their third never reappeared once they’d disappeared.

you breathed in shakily, understanding that you weren’t their first, likely wouldn’t be their last if they caught you trying to escape again. christ, how many were like you that would be killed before they were forced to put on the wedding dress or suit.

you put the book back with shaking hands and grabbed your knife again. you weren’t going to sit there and wait for them to come looking for you, but you’d foolishly gotten distracted and hadn't heard where they’d gone when you were looking at the photos. you pressed close to the door and held you breath while listening out for them on the other side.

when it had been quiet for long enough for your legs to feel tired, held rigidly still in the cold shed, you pushed opened the door slowly and stepped out. you stopped mid step when you saw kyle and johnny sat patiently at their garden table just opposite, staring at you with wide smiles.

“mornin’,” johnny called across and you reflexively brought up the knife in front of you.

“what’s the knife for?” kyle asked, amused, his lips pulling up at one side as he glanced at it lazily. “got the jitters, love? it’s normal, i still get butterflies and we’ve done this how many times now, johnny?”

“countless. but ah’ve got a good feeling about this one.” johnny’s grin turned salacious as he looked you up and down.

“me too.” kyle let his smile spread.

you stared for a moment, debating running. “what are you going to do to me?”

kyle’s grin stretched and he dipped his head to take a drink of his tea to hide it, laughing a little at your shaking hands.

“it’s our wedding day hen, you forget already?” johnny cooed.

you frowned, gripped the knife tighter.

“price was good enough to agree to officiate today instead of the end of the week, last minute changes cannae be helped though,” he added with an easy shrug. “hopefully simon’ll be able t’make it too.”

“the cake…” you mumbled, feeling betrayed at how many people they had in on it. how long they’d planned this and played pretend with you.

“she caught on quick. smart one this time, think we’ve made a good choice.” gaz stood as he spoke to johnny causing you to stiffen in unease. you lifted the knife up high in front of you again where it’d dropped to your side.

“now now, come on. you think you know what you’re doing with that, love? think you could kill me if you had to? johnny too?”

you stared at johnny behind kyle’s shoulder; the picture of relaxed, but you could see how sharp his eyes were as he watched you threaten his husband.

“sas, remember? even if you did manage to knick me, and that’s a big if, love, johnny would have you laid flat before you had a chance to blink. he’s broad but he’s bloody quick even with the knee.” he pointed to your bruised temple as he took another step. “but you’ve already experienced that. let’s just think about what you want to do here, yeah?”

frustration welled inside you and you blinked as tears ran down your cheeks. “i want to go home,” you whispered.

gaz smiled softly, the mean glint in his eyes gone when he nodded. “we can do that.”

“you just have to put down the knife first, hen.”

you shook your head, working yourself up as you felt your fight or flight turn to freeze as you stared them down another minute longer, desperate to find a way out.

gaz took another step and you swiped desperately to stop him from getting too close, but flinching back yourself when johnny barked out a sharp, “hey!”

gaz ducked out your reach but lifted his arm under yours to control its trajectory, elbowing you in the nose with his other arm. you felt a crunch and stumbled back, the knife falling from your grip and into kyle’s.

“guhh!” your hands flew up to your aching nose as you gasped, the pain sharp and ferocious, pinpointed to your sinuses as you bent forward to instinctively protect your face.

“ah shit.” you heard kyle sigh.

“bit bloody rough, garrick,” johnny chastised as he finally came closer, kneeling before you, keeping one hand tight on your calf to keep you close as the other gently, but insistently wheedled your hands away from your messy face.

“used to manhandling you aren’t i, soap?” kyle groused, but sending you worried looks all the same. he stepped away to drop the knife on the table, grabbing the small tea towel they’d had folded next to their plates and handing it to soap when he got close again.

you hissed as johnny cleaned you up as best he could with the scratchy cloth, sucking in a ragged breath through your mouth and gagging at the rancid taste of your own blood.

they herded you back to the farmhouse and sat you in kyle’s lap in the kitchen.

you took a sick satisfaction when he grunted at your weight on his legs, but the firm squeezing of your hips had you wiggling away. his grip was firm however and he kept you from hovering above him as johnny wiped at your nose with a wet rag.

“this is gon’hurt, cannae lie t’ya,” he said as he cupped either side of your face, his thumbs pressed along your nose. “wee bastard broke it, but i’ll make it good as new.”

kyle grumbled and johnny huffed, corrected himself. “wee bonnie bastard.”

you whimpered and jerked in kyle’s hold when johnny pushed it back into place, wiping it down once more.

“ye play nice and forgive each other, now, yeah?” he ordered. “close contact always helps w'that i've found.”

gaz nuzzled in close at that, hummed against your cold skin. “i’m sorry, baby. been a while since we played with someone so delicate.”

you stayed silent and johnny tilted your head to get a better look at your nose with the bleeding slowed down.

“looks good as new, bonnie,” he confirmed, ducking down to kiss you.

you winced when his nose knocked yours and felt his grin against your pursed lips.

suddenly, deliriously, you thought of the wedding photos they’d want to take. they’d be ruined, you thought with glee.

you told them so and watched as gaz pouted over your shoulder. johnny hummed.

“we have plenty of time to make memories together,” he settled on saying finally.

“you’re better than they were,” gaz agreed. “you’ll be better.” last longer, went unsaid.

you shook your head but they ignored it as they pulled you to stand up between them.

“now, you better start getting ready, price will be here soon and so should simon. we want to get this done quickly so we can get to the good part,” gaz said.

“consummating the marriage,” johnny winked.

you let them guide you back to your room where you saw the wedding dress laid on the bed, matching shoes on the floor set neatly.

sat on the bed next to the dress you ran your hand over the silky material, the intricate sewing and beading.

your head pounded, the injury from what you now knew was the day before and now the nose had your ears ringing. you grabbed the glass of water from the side table and downed it, uncaring if it was from two nights ago, suddenly parched as you thought of the amount of tears you’d shed.

when you could finally bring yourself to put on the dress you marvelled at the fit, the way the material looked draped over your curves.

like the sisterhood of the travelling pants but for two psychos’ fucking wedding, you thought and snorted.

you were truly connected to all their victims before you now.

you slipped on the shoes and let yourself hide your face in your hands as your hope finally crumbled. this was happening and you weren’t sure how to feel about it.

christ, whether it was the bump to the head or maybe elliot’s treatment for the last few years had done a worse number on you than you’d realised, but you couldn’t help but wonder if this would still be better than how you’d be living in london.

you wiped your face and headed for downstairs. it was like a sick repeat of the night you’d all gone out as they cooed and fawned over you when you got to the bottom. and once more you liked it.

liked it the same way you’d liked their attention every time they focused on you, complimented you. a slut just like elliot had spat. like johnny had moaned.

you swallowed thickly and hid your shaking hands behind your back.

they led you outside and you took the time to try and think of elliot’s face as he was beaten to death not twenty-four hours before; hoping to get a wake up call from these tumultuous, traitorous feelings. but you could only think of the lipstick mark on his neck and the photos of his cock on his phone that you knew he’d never sent to you, the texts he’d hide, the video you’d finally found of him fucking another woman.

you thought about how kind and gentle kyle and johnny had been over the last few days and bit your cheek harshly. switched to thinking of johnny using you while you slept, kyle taking you half inside their car, but it didn’t horrify you like you’d expected it to.

the gut clenching panic you’d expected to feel was absent as you remembered the feeling of their hands on you and instead you were ashamed to feel yourself grow wet.

were you so fucked up, so lonely and starved that you were going to willingly ‘marry’ these men and let them treat you like that?

if you took a moment to think about it, were they even a step up from elliot?

you looked up and ahead and saw price get out of his car, a genuine smile puffing up his cheeks as kyle waved. you assumed the ceremony would be starting soon enough.

kyle leant in to kiss your temple and johnny removed his hand from your shoulders and instead took yours in his own with an excited squeeze.

well, you knew the answer to the first question at least.

want to email johnny? click here

[666writingcafe]

New Voice Messages (Part Three)

Lucifer

"Hey. I know it's late and you're probably asleep, so you don't have to respond to this right away. I should be asleep, but I keep tossing and turning whenever I try, so I gave up on that hours ago. I'm currently sitting on the rooftop, looking up at the night sky. Well, and recording this message, but that's self-explanatory, I feel. *sighs* Don't mind my rambling. I'm both incredibly tired and slightly tipsy. I finally got around to trying the bottle of Demonus that Diavolo gave us as a housewarming gift, and it's pretty decent. I had a couple glasses of it before coming up here, thinking that it'd help put me to sleep. Obviously, it hasn't, but it was worth trying, I suppose. I at least feel like I can respond to your note without choking on my words or banging my head in frustration. *briefly pauses* Given the way you signed off on it, I'm going to assume that you trust me enough to not abuse your old name. That's also why I'm outside. Less likely to be overheard using it by my brothers. If that's okay with you. If it's not, feel free to tell me off for it the next time we meet. So, MC. *pauses again before lightly singing MC's name* Have I ever told you it's a pretty name? Saying it is comforting somehow. *clears his throat* Sorry. Like I said, I'm a bit drunk."

"Feeling more in control now. Might still ramble a bit, but hopefully not as much as before. *takes a deep breath* The first time I read your note, I ended up crying. Not because you said something wrong, but because it was...sweet? Is that the word I'm looking for? *briefly pauses as a gust of wind gets picked up on the mic* It'll have to do for now, I guess. Anyway...it's interesting how you and Diavolo said more or less the same thing, and yet I'm more inclined to listen to you than I am to him. Perhaps it's the difference in tone? I could definitely tell that he was getting frustrated with me towards the end of our phone call. I know there's a part of him that sees me as a really shiny toy, one that he's quite territorial over. If I were to leave his side, he'd throw a massive fit, I'd imagine, and he might start a war over it. Which is silly. I'm not worth fighting over. *pauses* And yet everyone seems to for some reason. It's like I cause people to lose their minds. I don't know if it's due to the amount of titles and prestige I've had or my physical appearance or something else entirely, but they seem to all go into hysteria after spending any significant amount of time with me. Except for you, MC. You don't care about Lucifer Morningstar, former Lightbringer, Avatar of Pride, yadda yadda yadda. You simply see me as me, if that makes sense. You want to make sure that I'm okay, and you don't expect anything in return. It's a way of repaying back the kindness bestowed upon you in your situation, I suppose. And it'd be cruel of me to ignore all of that and still plunge to my death. So I'm staying. *pauses* You're right. This does feel weird. You better make good on your promise, MC, or I may end up changing my mind again. *chuckles* Don't take that last part too seriously. I'm merely messing with you a bit."

"You know, I wonder what my brothers are thinking about this...offer being made to us. I already know Mammon and Beel would stay, and Belphie's going to do whatever Beel does, but I'm not sure about Levi and Asmo. I mean, you were there when Asmo was yelling at me about leaving the Celestial Realm. Do you think he's eagerly packing his bags as we speak, or--"

A Few Hours Later

"Sorry about the abrupt ending of my last message. Mammon caught me on the rooftop. We ended up talking for a while. *pauses* The two of us have an interesting relationship. Kinda similar to the one I have with Satan. Mammon's sort of my brother and sort of my son, except he didn't spring out of me like Satan did. He's the first angel I felt the need to protect. Everyone else was prepared to throw him away, even though he was merely a child. I couldn't sit back and let them treat him like that, especially not after I held him in my arms as he was crying. He was around the Chihuahua's age when that happened. *clears his throat* I apologize. I know you don't like me calling Luke a chihuahua. I really am trying not to. *pauses* So yeah. Satan's technically the third oldest, since he came into existence in my mind shortly after I took Mammon under my wing. Levi came into the picture when Mammon was a teenager, and the others when he was just becoming a fully-grown angel. *pauses again* It was actually Mammon that insisted that we take care of them, and he was so earnest about it that I couldn't say no. I mean, the fact that he was willing to do for others what I've done for him...I was quite proud of him. Still am, even though he insists on putting on a persona these days. I know deep down, he still cares about everyone. *pauses yet again* Is it weird that I feel comfortable sharing all of this with you, MC? It might be the alcohol still affecting me, but somehow I don't think it is. I...I think I've come to trust you. Completely. I haven't even gotten there with Diavolo yet, and I've known him a lot longer. *chuckles* You truly are special, little lamb. *silence* Shit. That wasn't supposed to be said out loud. I better go before I start calling you more silly nicknames. Good night, MC."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @interconnectedmatrix

[vodika-vibes]

I'll Protect You

Summary: Thire has a problem. That problem stands half a foot shorter than him, always greets him with a bubbly grin, and is dating someone who doesn’t deserve her. He’s willing to keep his opinion to himself, so long as she’s happy. But when she shows up at his barracks badly injured and bleeding, all bets are off.

Pairing: Commander Thire x F!Reader

Word Count: 1729

Warnings: Domestic Abuse

A/N: My brain didn't want to focus on any of my requests, and so this was born instead. Also, I've never been in this situation personally, so take everything I say here with a grain of salt.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

It’s late. So late, in fact, that Thire should be asleep.

But he just can’t seem to relax enough in his bed to actually fall asleep. Every time he gets close the building will make a weird noise, or he’ll have a weird thought, or a worry will cross his mind—

It’s getting to the point that Thire is considering giving up on sleep.

It’s not like he’s never worked on no sleep before.

He just wishes he knew what was keeping him from falling asleep. It feels like something is looming over him, threatening him with something.

Thire’s stomach churns as the feeling of dread intensifies.

Something’s wrong. At least, his brain thinks there’s something wrong.

He huffs out a frustrated breath and finally sits up, his blanket pooling around his waist as he presses his face into his hands. Tomorrow is supposed to be his day off. He has plans to spend the day with his Sarad.

He can’t do that if he’s running on no sleep.

Well, he can, but his Sarad will worry and she’ll get that look on her face, and then he’ll have to throw himself in a holding cell for upsetting her. Which, admittedly, will only upset her more.

Maybe he’ll read a book or something? Sarad let him borrow some of her detective novels not that long ago—

Thire is about to swing his legs off his bed when he hears a light, almost hesitant, knock on the door to his room. He feels an immediate surge of annoyance. Just because he can’t sleep doesn’t mean that people can bother him—

Still, it might be important, he supposes. 

So, grudgingly, he trudges to the door and opens it.

The first thing he sees is his Sarad. She’s dressed in leggings and a tee-shirt, and her hair is pulled up, and she’s never looked prettier.

But then he looks closer.

Her left arm is clutched to her chest. Her face is covered in bruises, and there’s blood—

She’s bleeding.

His Sarad is bleeding.

The words don’t compute.

His Sarad can’t be bleeding. That would mean that someone laid hands on her.

“Sarad—”

“I’m sorry,” Her voice is thick with pain and tears, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know where else to go—” She moves the arm clutched to her chest slightly, and she winces.

“Sarad,” Thire reaches out and lightly tilts her head back so he can get a better look at her injuries. His hands are shaking slightly, “Did you get mugged, sweetheart?”

Her lower lip trembles and tears escape from her eyes, and she shakes her head, “...no.”

Thire tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and he has to release a slow breath when he sees that one of her earrings has been ripped out. It’s where the majority of the blood is coming from.

Poor thing, she must be in so much pain.

If she wasn’t mugged, then what—?

Thire scans her face, and she averts her gaze, shame crossing her face. He stares at her, and he knows what happened.

“Corr did this.” There’s a strange ringing in his ears, Thire doesn’t know if he's ever been this angry before in his life. Oh, sure, he never liked her boyfriend. But he didn’t hate the other man until this very moment.

She shrinks in on herself, “...he said I deserve this.” She even sounds like she’s trying to make herself smaller, and Thire wonders if she fears that he’s going to hurt her too.

Corr’s a dead man walking, he just doesn’t know it yet.

But, dealing with that can come later. Right now his Sarad needs him, and she’s so much more important.

“Let me pull on a shirt and I’ll take you to Suture, he’ll get you patched up.”

“I’m sorry,” She sounds so miserable that Thire wants to bundle her up in a blanket and hide her from the world. But that won’t help, so he pushes the instinct to the side.

“You don’t have to apologize, sweetheart.” He grabs the shirt he was wearing earlier that day and pulls it over his head, not bothering to fasten the collar and letting it hang open.

It’s not regulation, but honestly, fuck regulation.

“I woke you up, and I’m being such a bother—” 

Thire stares at her, and his heart sinks. How had he not seen this? His Sarad has always been so bright and warm and confident, and the woman standing before him doesn’t resemble her at all.

Was this Corr’s doing too?

Thire’s not stupid, he knows that abusers tend to start with mentally and emotionally breaking down their victims before turning physical. He just doesn’t understand how he didn’t see what was happening to her.

What kind of awful friend is he?

He reaches out and lightly presses a hand against her cheek, “I wasn’t asleep, and you could never bother me.”

“But…he said—”

“Corr couldn’t say ‘good morning’ without lying twice,” Thire interjects, “You’re not bothering me, and I’m glad that you trust me enough to come to me when you’re in trouble.”

Some of the distress fades from her face, and Thire feels a surge of relief. The last thing he wants is for his Sarad to feel like she’s a burden on him. Carefully, to not jostle her injured arm, he drapes an arm around her shoulder and guides her down to the infirmary.

Honestly, he plans to give her to Suture and then go and deal with Corr, but when she wraps her uninjured hand around the hem of his shirt, Thire changes the plan immediately.

Corr can wait, his Sarad can’t.

Several bacta treatments and a cast later, his Sarad is asleep on a hospital bed, clutching Thire’s hand close to her face. Clinging to him as if she’s afraid that he might vanish if she doesn’t.

Thire gently works the elastic out of her hair and sets it on the side table, before he uses his fingers to comb through the knots in her hair. He can tell by how it feels that she hasn’t washed it in a while, another thing he can lay at Corr’s feet, he’s sure.

“How is she? Really?” Thire asks as Suture steps back into the room.

Suture sighs, “Her injuries aren’t life-threatening,” He pauses and then shakes his head, “but they will hurt for a while.”

Thire hums his understanding, still combing his fingers through her hair.

He can feel Suture’s gaze on the back of his head, “Fox is never going to allow her to stay in the barracks.”

“Fox can get fucked, I’m not letting her go home until I’m sure she’s safe.”

“And I knew you were going to reply like that,” Suture sighs, “How do you intend to make her safe?”

Thire finally pulls his gaze from his sleeping Sarad to stare at his brother, “How do you think?”

“Talk to Fox before you do something stupid and get yourself decommissioned. You’re girl there will be a mess without you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Thire turns his attention back toward his Sarad and gently smooths her hair back, “Do you think I have a chance with her, Suture?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Suture drags a chair over and shoves it at him, “Here, get some rest.”

Gratefully, he sinks into the seat and lays his head on the bed. 

Finally, the feeling of dread has faded and he’s able to drift to sleep.

The following morning, Thire wakes with a start when he feels hesitant fingers carding through his curls. He turns his head and offers his Sarad the smallest of smiles.

The bruises look painful now that she’s had some rest, but he understands why Suture didn’t use bacta to patch up her bruises. It’s the same reason she’s wearing a cast…the Guard just doesn’t have much bacta to spare.

“How are you feeling?” Thire asks as he slowly sits up and slides the chair closer to the bed.

“A little sore…and a lot stupid.”

He gently cradles her face with his hands, “Why stupid, sweetheart?”

“...I should have known that he wasn’t as nice as he acted.” She closes her eyes as she leans into his touch.

“You couldn’t have known. I bet he hid his real personality from you.” Thire lightly strokes her cheek, careful to not add too much pressure, “At least he showed his true colors before you moved in together.”

Her smile is slightly bitter, “Yeah, I guess.”

Thire lightly taps the tip of her nose, “Hey. He’s never going to hurt you again.”

“You gonna arrest him for assault?”

Thire just grins, “Don’t you worry about that, sweetheart. All you have to worry about is healing.”

“I suppose I can do that.” She settles back on the pillow, watching him through tired eyes, “I’m sorry that I ruined the plans for today.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. I get to spend the day with you either way, though I will admit that this isn’t the venue I was expecting.” Thire teases, “Don’t worry so much, sweetheart.”

“Can’t help it,” 

“I know, that’s okay.” He lightly presses his lips against her forehead, and she relaxes under his gentle touch. Honestly, Thire is just glad that she doesn’t seem to be afraid of him.

“Why are you being so good to me, Thire?” She murmurs.

“Silly question, sweetheart. I love you, how could I be anything else.”

She leans back and blinks at him, “What?”

Thire grins, unrepentant, “I said what I said. I have to go and tell Fox you’re crashing here for a bit. Be nice to Suture.”

“Wait—”

Thire leans in and brushes his lips against the corner of her lips, “Later, sweetheart. I have work to do. I’ll see you at lunch. Promise.” He squeezes her hand gently, and then he leaves.

Now that his Sarad knows how he feels about her, he can deal with this Corr situation. After he runs it by Fox.

Thire and his Sarad finally manage to have this important conversation three days after Corr’s body is found in the drug den.

She tells him that she’s not ready for another relationship, not so soon as her last one imploding so fantastically. But she asks if he’d be willing to wait for her to be ready.

Thire’s answer is simple, he’d wait forever.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

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@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

@cdblake1565

@sweater-sloot

@heidnspeak

@wax-birds

@silly-starfish

@lonewolflupe

@maniacalbooper

[keigo-takamis-no-1-simp]

Ｈａｗｋｓ Ｘ Ｒｅａｄｅｒ - Ｌｅａｒｎｉｎｇ ｔｏ ｌｏｖｅ: Ａｉｌｍｅｎｔｓ

TW/CW: Flashbacks, hints of abuse/neglect

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: Hawks x Reader

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: Keigo meets your annoying sister, and you find out the hard way you stayed outside WAY too long... luckily, you have someone to take care of you.

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: Angst with comfort

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝:  2162

𝚃𝚊𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @marydragneell, @numblytemporary, @rainycloud858

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚠𝚘 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚂𝚒𝚡 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 / 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑�� / 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎

“What? Can’t I come visit my own sister?” She balks, throwing a hand over her chest in a motion of false offense. “Atsuki told me what happened- I gotta say, it’s about time he dumped your petty ass.” 

She steps in further, a low whistle coming from her lips. “Ah- so you’re trying the whole ‘gold digger’ vibe. Gotta say, I’m not too surprised.” She chuckles, striding towards you. She holds out her left hand, an expensive and familiar looking ring on her finger. 

“I’ll be getting married with him soon- Didn’t think you’d have good taste, but you can definitely be full of surprises! Oh! And Juni says you need to pay this month’s rent and get your shit off the curb.” She has that same grin that you’ve always hated- smug, snobbish, and entitled. 

“Is this your-” Keigo starts, annoyance and confusion visible on his face. 

“God, you haven’t even told him about me!” She scoffs, shaking her head. “I’m her sister. Younger but better. Anyway, I should get back. I’ll send you details for the wedding- can’t wait to see you there!” And with that… she takes her leave. Purposefully brushing past Keigo and giving him one of her flirty grins. 

Though, she suddenly slips, and Keigo steps back, letting her fall. “Oh, damn… I guess I forgot to clean up the water. My bad,” He’s barely hiding a smirk, and you find yourself covering your mouth with your hand to conceal your own. 

You hadn’t smiled in years, and yet you met him… and you’ve smiled two or three times tonight alone. 

She huffs, getting up and storming out. He glances over at you.. And you let out a genuine, hearty laugh. For a brief second, shock flickers over his expression. “Sorry, sorry- I’ve never seen someone treat her like that.” You wheeze, catching your breath. He can’t help but chuckle too, shutting and locking the front door. 

“Well, what can I say? She was annoying, and I don’t do too well with those kinds of people. Just don’t have the patience, I guess?” He gives an overexaggerated sigh, before chuckling with you. “You had to grow up with that?” 

You sigh lightly, the smile slowly sliding off your lips. Back to the more blank slate expression- one you found you easily fell into. “Yeah. She’s always been like that too.” You shrug. His wings bristle slightly as he returns to his spot across from you. 

“Family sucks.” He dips his head in agreement- though there’s a small noise in the back of his throat again. 

“I’ll start looking into jobs tomorrow, and I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as possible. You’re busy, so- I think until I have something down, I can contribute in the sense of, uh- well, cooking and cleaning, if you’re ok with that.” You offer. You don’t want to intrude into his space without giving something in return- that would be selfish. 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that-” He waves a hand lightly, but you tilt your head slightly. 

“... please..? It’s the least I can do as a sort of ‘thank you’,” Your words seem to give him pause- he looks at you with an unreadable, yet neutral expression. After a few moments, he chuckles, shaking his head. 

“Alright, fine. Home-cooked meals are better anyway, and I’m not really picky with what I don’t like.” He gives you that stupid lop-sided smile again. “And.. don’t worry about ‘staying out of my way’. I like having you around.” 

He reminds you of the heartthrob character you see in those damn anime shows you watch. Except- this one is very real, and sitting only a few paces away. 

“You like chicken, that’s for sure,” You tease, your face flushing slightly as you brush past his words- he just smiles a little more, chuckling and shaking his head again. 

“Kid, you’re something else.” He pauses, taking a sip of his tea. “But, you’re my kinda somethin’ else.” His eyes trail to the stovetop. 

“It’s pretty late, and you gotta be exhausted. I’m gonna be up for a bit, finishing some paperwork from… ah- last week? I seriously need to stay on top of that stuff-” This time, an awkward laugh falls from his lips. 

You blink, watching as his blonde locks fall just right to frame his face. He takes another sip. “My office is the room to the right of the kitchen-” he gestures with his cup, and your eyes follow. Not too hard to remember- even though you’re certain you’ll get lost here more than once. 

“- so if you need anything, I’ll be there.” He sets down his cup, before stretching. His wings spread out behind him, flexing in an almost dominant fashion. Your eyes widen- they are huge when fully extended. Pictures don’t do them justice. 

“Thank you, Keigo. For all of this- if there’s anything I can do to help around here, just ask.” You finish your tea, and he carefully takes the empty cup from you. 

For a brief moment, electricity courses across your fingers as they brush against his. It’s not an uncomfortable sensation, but- a new one nonetheless. 

He says nothing about it. It’s possible he didn’t even notice. “Now, go get some sleep.” He chuckles, gesturing with his head to the guest room. 

“Yes sir,” You tease, careful not to jump down off the stool and hurt your feet. As you pad into your temporary bedroom, you miss the soft expression of concern and curiosity that follows your frame. 

You crawl into the massive bed, finding that you were right- the sheets were silk. They were comfortable, for sure. Though… as you began to wind down for the night, a few of those pesky little thoughts began to creep in. 

You’re encroaching on this man’s space. He’s been nothing but kind, but was it genuine? He was definitely the type of person to be kind even if it was inconvenient- but that was a front. You could see through it, and that little interaction with Megumi was all the confirmation you needed. 

So was it out of pity, or something else? You were nothing special, something that could be replaced by just about anything. 

Your body was tainted, your memories spotty at best- you’re a total fucking trainwreck. Yet, he was being kind. There has to be a reason- a motive. What did he want? 

You stare up at the ceiling. There’s no way in hell he could just want you around because of your ‘charming personality’. You didn’t like to be touched, you got random stupid migraines that made no damn sense, you were the human equivalent to a opossum or raccoon- and your emotions are so fucked you rarely laugh or smile and you can’t even cry. 

You’re nothing in comparison to him. In comparison to literally everyone else. 

Your chest feels tight- but you simply sit up, ignoring it. The closest thing you got to crying was the feeling of a lump in your throat, and your face heating up. Maybe you were sick- maybe that’s why no one ever stayed. 

You cough, an unfamiliar itchiness in the back of your throat making itself known. You huff running your hand down your face before resting your elbows on your knees. Of course, you’re probably physically sick too. 

Just another way to burden him. 

You shake your head, pursing your lips. You felt colder than usual, but you literally felt a breeze. The AC was more than likely on. You’re fine- you’re always fine. Just… take what you’re given. 

Don’t ask for more, because you’ll lose everything the second you try.

As your eyes finally start to flutter closed, you wrap yourself in the blankets. Maybe you could actually sleep for once… though, considering this was essentially a strangers house, you somehow doubted it. 

You definitely wouldn’t bother him with something as petty as the temperature. You curl up on your side under the blankets, ignoring just how much you’re shivering as best you can. 

After god knows how long- you fall into an uneasy slumber.

Keigo, on the other hand, was having a hard time focusing on the documents in front of him. You were such a kind soul, but you’d clearly been through hell and back. No one despised touch that much and didn’t have some sort of trauma associated with it. 

On top of that- your emotions were hardly present on your face. It was all in your eyes. A smile tugged at his lips. Though- he’d gotten a small smile out of you, and even made you laugh. Both were heavenly. 

He exhales softly, messing with his hair a bit as he thinks. Leaning away from the documents, his mind trails back to that date from earlier… and how different your demeanor was when you showed up on his front door. You seemed more… put together, in a sense, before he left. 

Her boyfriend broke up with her, on their anniversary. How shitty is that? Yet, she hadn’t cried. It reminds him of a girl he met when he was younger, but- there’s no way it could be the same person. 

She’d been proclaimed dead by the officials at the age of 8. 

He groans, shoving himself away from the desk. Yeah- he isn’t gonna get jack shit done tonight at this rate. His wings involuntarily flap in annoyance. 

Stepping out of his office- a new scent slams into him like a semi into a deer on a highway. 

Cortisol- and something else. His brows furrow and he frowns, slowly creeping towards the guest bedroom where you slept. It only got stronger the closer he got… what was going on? Were you hurt somewhere else? Were you afraid of something?

His mind starts to race with possibilities- and when your scratchy voice breaks through the silence, it clicks together. That sickly sweet smell- it was literal. You were sick- that explains the odd scratchiness in your voice earlier. 

You’re pressing your face into the silk pillow, shifting every so often. Soft mumbles fall from your lips, but with his enhanced hearing, he’s able to make out bits and pieces. 

“... ‘s ok, ‘m ok… ‘m used to it…” His brows furrow more, concern washing over his body in a wave of pure ice. Used… to what..?

“... ‘ll be good-” You jerk a little, before your eyes flutter open. You don’t seem to realize he’s in the room- instead, you simply curl up, making yourself as small as possible. He can’t keep the stupid trilling noise from coming out- it’s an involuntary trait. 

You twitch, eyes shooting open. “Juni…” You mumble, backing up into the bed. Do… do you think he’s your ex? 

“No, Dove…” He finds the nickname tumbling off of his lips before he can even think about it. “... it’s Keigo.” 

You take a moment, before relaxing a bit. “... Kei…go…” You murmur, letting your body relax back into the pillows. “... ‘s cold..?” It comes out as more of a question than anything, and he blinks. It’s 75 in here- how are you cold? 

He slowly approaches, ensuring you can see where he is at all times- never making a sudden move. He doesn’t want to make you panic. It almost feels similar to dealing with a wild animal, oddly enough. One wrong move- and it could go to shit. 

“I need to know if you have a temp, Angel- can I touch your forehead?” He murmurs, sitting on your bedside. You don’t answer for a few moments, before shaking your head. 

“... n-no… no touching… please…” There’s a sense of panic to your words that has him gently shushing you. 

“Alright, it’s ok, pretty girl- no touching. I promise. Can I get a thermometer?” He needs to do something to help- he can’t just stand by and do nothing. You nod a little this time, and he exhales in relief. 

Using one of his feathers, he quickly retrieves one from his medicine cabinet. As soon as it’s in his hand, he gently holds it up to your mouth. “Open, sweetheart,” He murmurs, and you obey. You were… honestly so damn sweet. How could anyone want to hurt you like your ex so obviously did?

It beeps, and… unsurprisingly, you’re running a rather high fever. He purses his lips, and he’s pulling out his phone when you speak again. 

“... ‘m sorry… ‘s a lot, an’... thank you for checking on me…” You murmur, head shifting once more. You’re burning up, he doesn’t even need to touch you to be able to tell. 

“It’s ok… I’m just glad you’re here and not in some hotel room. We’ll getcha taken care of, yeah?” He coos softly, resisting the urge to brush your hair from your face. Thankfully, he knows someone that can help. He pulls out his phone, quickly dialing a familiar number.

“Hey, Shouta..? I got a favor to ask..”

[allsassnoclass]

HELL YEAH!!! can i get uhhhh #9, an I'm so proud of you kiss? pairing, fandom, etc is all up to you :) ill read it even if im not in the fandom go fkn crazy ily xoxo

hi @clumsyclifford!!! alrighty let's throw some fake college sports players in here.

jerejean: I'm so proud of you kiss

Jeremy goes to find Jean after a few minutes, weaving through the crowd of his teammates and the Foxes until he reaches the edge of their party's sphere, out in the sand where the light from the bonfire has no hope of reaching. He stumbles over Neil and Andrew, drawn hypnotically to the bright cherry of the cigarette they're sharing, but neither of them question where he's going or make any attempt at conversation. Neil simply tilts his head to the left with a knowing look, and Jeremy nods in thanks once he spots the shadowy figure sitting yards away in the darkness, looking out at the waves.

Jean doesn't look up as Jeremy approaches, chin resting on his knees as he looks distantly out at the ocean, where the horizon line blends too deep in the darkness to discern what is sea and what is sky anymore. Jeremy flops gracelessly down next to him, kicking up sand and checking to be sure Jean isn't shying away. He relaxes when he doesn't. Jean still doesn't do well with isolation, but he's an introvert at heart and needs his space. After the events of today, Jeremy isn't surprised that he retreated down the beach to be alone, but he also knows that it's the kind of alone that Jeremy is welcome to interrupt.

It makes his chest fill with warmth, being one of the people that Jean doesn't need energy to be around. It's a privilege that he doesn't take lightly, especially when so few people in Jean's life have been safe. For him to have found a group of people to love and be loved by in return is no small feat, and it's something that they've gradually cultivated together in the past year.

For a moment, Jeremy thinks about the first time he saw Jean in person outside of a court, watching the shell of a man cautiously approach him at LAX with only a few t-shirts, a tattoo, and years of abuse to his name. He would never have predicted that they'd be here now, only a few weeks shy of a year later. Jean has grown in ways too numerous to list, but Jeremy has changed, too. It's a mutual metamorphosis, made more important for the way that they've grown in harmony with each other, filling in each other's gaps while leaving room for the other person to stretch and flourish.

Of course, one other difference is that they're NCAA champions now. It isn't a new title for Jean, but Jeremy suspects that this one feels sweeter, more earned.

This is a win that Jean should feel proud of, one untainted by the shadow of black wings and bruises. A championship that has nothing to do with the number that used to be tattooed on his face and everything to do with the person he has decided to become.

"What are you thinking about?"

Jeremy tilts his head towards the quiet, lilting sound of Jean's words. His accent has lessened slightly over the year, either due to less necessity to use his French without Kevin around or being surrounded by people who never stop talking in loud California drawls, but it still colors his words like a swash of blue in a sunrise.

Jean never wants to return to France, but sometimes Jeremy wonders if he would enjoy visiting Canada or Haiti, somewhere that he could use a version of his native language without ghosts following him.

"Jeremy?"

Jeremy blinks, bringing himself back to the present rather than some unnamed future with the two of them wandering around Montreal.

"I was thinking about our win," he says when he can remember what Jean's original question was. Jean huffs, but the sound is fond. Jeremy can't see much in the darkness, but he can picture Jean's expression perfectly. He's not smiling, but he's softer, relaxed and open enough that Jeremy can read his intention.

"How does it feel to be a champion?" Jean asks.

"Amazing," Jeremy sighs, tipping his head back and remembering every hour of practice and hard-fought game that brought them here. Despite the backlash from his decision to cut down the line last year and all of the negative press surrounding Jean's transfer, they made it all the way to the championships and came out on top. It was a battle in more ways than one, but it was absolutely worth it for the look on Kevin Day's face when Cat stole the ball from him using a technique that Jean taught her, then slammed the ball down the court for Jeremy to catch and score.

The team as a whole has grown exponentially. Jeremy has never pushed himself harder, and it wasn't all sunshine and smiles on the court this year. Still, they held it together, and as turbulent throwing a former Raven into their midst was, Jeremy has never regretted the decision to bring Jean to them.

"It's sweeter because I could do it with you," Jeremy says.

He glances at Jean out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't duck his head bashfully, and he doesn't freeze awkwardly the way he used to when Jeremy would drop a sappy but sincere compliment months ago. He simply lets the sentiment wash over him, keeping his focus on Jeremy.

"I'm glad you are happy," he says. Jeremy reaches for his hand, fingertips dragging along his forearm and wrist until Jean turns to thread their fingers together.

"What about you?" Jeremy asks. "How does it feel to be a champion this time?"

Jean takes time to consider his answer. Jeremy listens to the distant sounds of their teammates and friends over by the fire and the gentle sounds of waves hitting the shore while he waits. A breeze gently shifts his hair, light and crisp enough that he nearly shivers.

"I didn't think it would mean this much to me," Jean says quietly. Jeremy squeezes his hand once, then relaxes, giving Jean the space he needs. "I knew that winning with the Trojans would feel different, but the Ravens won because we were expected to. You and I won because we deserved to this time. Because we fought harder and wanted it more."

"And you did it all without a red card, even though Neil was being annoying," Jeremy says.

"It felt good to beat him," Jean grins. "That was very satisfying."

No one felt like it would be a good idea to make Jean block Kevin, not with everything he's told them about scrimmages in the Nest. While he played with Neil at Evermore as well, it was never while Neil was playing striker, and Neil only features in a fraction of the traumatic memories that Jean has recounted. Jean has been doing great in his sessions with Betsy and has grown a lot in his recovery over the past year, but no one wanted to risk prompting a flashback during the championship game, when the eyes of the entire public and Ichirou Moriyama would be on him.

Jean seemed to enjoy playing against Neil, anyway. Jeremy still doesn't understand their relationship and probably never will, but it was one of Jean's best games. Neil ran him ragged, but both of them seemed satisfied with their individual performances, and Jeremy overheard Jean tell him to have a winning day while stealing the ball at one point.

It's taken a long time for Jean to be able to have fun on the court. Healing is slow and non-linear, Jeremy knows that better than most. The progress that is visible, though, is much more gratifying because of it.

Jeremy looks at Jean, tracing his outline in the blue shadows. He takes in the relaxed slope of his shoulders, the enticing tilt of his head, the self-satisfied smile that Jeremy can barely see gracing his lips in this light. He looks like he belongs on this beach, relishing in his win with dozens of people who love him only a few yards away, holding hands with someone who adores him.

It's amazing, what a difference one year can make. Jeremy's chest feels warm and full, ready to burst.

"Hey," he says, squeezing Jean's hand. Jean turns towards him with a questioning noise. Jeremy tugs on his t-shirt, coaxing him forward until he can lean up to press their lips together. Jean responds once he catches on to Jeremy's intention, relaxing against him and sliding his free hand around Jeremy's waist. Jeremy presses forward, trying to transfer as much of the feeling in his chest to Jean as he can. He curls his hand around Jean's shoulder, partially to draw him closer and partially for his own stability. Jean sighs against him, and Jeremy can't help but smile into the kiss.

When they part a few moments later, Jeremy watches the way that Jean's eyes take a moment to flutter open.

"What was that for?" Jean asks. Jeremy smiles and brushes his thumb against Jean's cheek, right over the small heart tattooed there.

"I'm really proud of you," he smiles. Jean ducks his head, leaning into Jeremy's palm. "You've come a long way."

Jean wraps his hand around Jeremy's, pressing it against his chest.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Jeremy."

Jeremy doesn't think he'll ever get used to the way his name sounds in Jean's mouth, his accent curving around it and voice soft as music.

"Still," Jeremy says. "I'm really proud of you, Jean-Yves."

Jean ducks his head again, but Jeremy can't have that. He reaches for Jean's jaw again. Jean knows him well enough to evade and kiss him instead, the perfect distraction. Jeremy is happy to let him get away with it, because that was his end goal anyway.

They stay on the beach together for a long time. When their friends eventually find them, Jeremy watches the way that Jean lights up as Cat tackles him in a hug and he playfully banters with Kevin, two things that would've been impossible a year ago. Jeremy keeps hold of his hand, both of them on top of the world with no plans on coming down.

[paperuniverse]

hey, if it makes you feel better, i was subject to so much harassment in this fandom and having to see people harass me accuse me of horrible things (that people tend to accuse people lightly when they are actually heavy accusations) and i still remember the fact someone straight up told me "you were not traumatized from the fandom" as a means to tell me that my trauma isn't valid

sorry if it's kinda heavy, i'm still scared to show myself due to the harassment

You do not need to apologize for using anon, I have it on for a reason.

Also I'm sorry that happened to you, I also had such bad experiences with a past fandom that I can't bring myself to bring it up with new people. I distrust people who like that series that much. I even feel physically ill from even seeing a ship name from that same fandom, so I understand.

I think there should be more discussion on how you can get trauma from relationships other than from parental figures and significant others. Bullying both online and offline can cause trauma that severely affects you for life. Anyone of any age can abuse someone and give them trauma and you deserve to not have that trauma brushed off.

Also let's stop fucking throwing big accusations around to hurt someone cause you don't like them. You are trivializing the word's meaning and the actual people who have suffered from those things.

[mumms-the-word]

Tav questions!

Ardynn - 1, 5, 25

Dani - 7, 12, 27

Freyr - 8 lol

Ohhh a whole gauntlet I see, very well, very well

Ardynn

What would your Tav's greetings be (at different levels of approval)?

Neutral: Hello again. - How can I help you? - Tell me what you need. (open, helpful) High: Glad to see you as always, my friend. - The Lady guide your steps, friend. What do you need? - What's on your mind? Romance: (lightly teasing) Somehow I knew you'd find your way over to me. Come for a chat? - Hello again, my darling. Did you need me? - Seeing you is always a welcome distraction. Tell me what's on your mind. Low: What do you want? (wary) - (under her breath) Mielikki preserve me. (to you) Yes? - Is this urgent? (hoping it isn't and that you'll go away)

5. Describe their idle animations!

Ardynn's most common idle animation would probably be her examining her arrows. There's probably a quiver or something she has at her tent and she would bend down, remove an arrow, examine the point, the shaft, the feathers, etc, and once she's satisfied, she'd put it back. Another idle animation I can see her doing is pulling out her bow, testing the string, and possibly restringing the bow. Like she would take the current string off and restring it, which is tough to do (and also funny to think about, like, how many times do you need to replace the string babe?) I like to think that maybe a small animal comes and visits her too. I need to determine an actual animal companion/familiar for her (perhaps a fox, even though we can't summon those in BG3), but until then, perhaps a bird or a squirrel comes poking around and she feeds it.

25. What is something they would die on a hill over?

Probably something like "bows/archery are the superior method of battle/hunting/killing." The girl can wield a scimitar in a pinch, but she thinks an arrow in your throat would be a bit more effective and efficient. Also, she thinks animals make better conversationalists than most humanoids. And she cannot be convinced otherwise.

---

Dani

7. Describe their arc. How would a player help resolve it? What choices can be made? Can your Tav be turned down a dark path, or pulled to a lighter one?

So, for context, I imagine that if Dani were a companion, her questline would be that she's searching for her best friend, a dragonborn drummer bard named Paraxxel, who was kidnapped the same night she was, but by a different nautiloid. So she's willing to join up with a bunch of other tadpole-freaks because eventually she thinks she's going to find her bestie, who is probably another tadpole-freak like her. She doesn't have a lot of grand/dangerous ambitions the same way Gale, Astarion, or Shadowheart does, but she can be convinced/disillusioned down a darker path. When she starts out, Dani is openly interested in helping the tiefling refugees and others in need because she sees herself in them. If there's someone being oppressed or abused by a higher order/power, she's willing to throw hands to help the oppressed or abused party. But she's also willing to lie, cheat, steal, and schmooze her way into situations that will benefit her and those she considers her friends, too. To her, words are power (whether they're spoken or sung) and truth is relevant. She'll be the first to suggest you pretend to join the Absolute in Act 2 so that she can investigate the Towers and see if Paraxxel is there. Deception is her middle name. I can imagine a scenario or two where her suggesting or being allowed to deceive, coerce, or otherwise charm someone also ends up being an example of her sacrificing some kind of moral ethics in the name of the outcome. Like, I could see her suggesting she be allowed to magically charm or coerce someone to get the answers she wants, only for Tav to challenge her like, "You're always saying people should have the ability to choose and you're taking that away from them." Or they could encourage her, and show her that the end always justifies the means. She can use her words for good or for ill. Eventually, I imagine that something in the Towers reveals that Paraxxel has indeed been tadpoled and is now a servant of the Absolute operating in Baldur's Gate. In this scenario, I imagine Paraxxel is probably some lieutenant of an Absolute splinter group, probably under Bane, the same way Balthazar is like a lieutenant mini-boss for Ketheric. I can see him doing something like working at the Baldur's Mouth Gazette or perhaps as a super persuasive town crier/street preacher type situation? Just lauding the praises of Gortash with every breath, being extra effective because he's a bard. (And it's very unlike him to praise someone like Gortash, so you know he's brainwashed.) When Dani discovers this, she and Tav have a few choices: try to talk him out of it (and beg the Emperor to extend protection over him), leave him alone and risk the spread of dangerous misinformation, or risk a confrontation where he might end up dead. On a lighter path, Dani manages to get Paraxxel under the protection of the Prism (he hangs out in camp), and Gortash loses a propaganda/PR person. On a darker path, Dani can be convinced to kill Paraxxel and take his place, turning the Gazette (or whatever propaganda/PR thing is going on) into her own operation to be used for their team. In the end, either she returns to the Rovers with her best friend, or she takes over a PR scheme where she can lie and write her stories on a grand scale, and become rich and famous from it too.

12. Does your Tav have any tattoos or scars? Why?

As a Tav in the game, she doesn't have any tattoos, because she wouldn't be interested in tattooing her face. But as a companion (and also in my head, even when she's a Tav lol) she has a tattoo on her chest, near her left shoulder, that is a compass with a violin laid diagonally over the top. Each of the Merry Rovers has a similar tattoo, except it features their signature instrument. As the leader, Brann's tattoo doesn't have an instrument but instead has a smiling theatre mask (the mask and compass are the troupe emblem for the Merry Rovers). I like to think she also has a tiny needle and thread tattoo on her wrist, where she can always see it, to remind her of her mom. (Also I wrote a fic that mentions her thinking about getting a new tattoo, one of the Elturel crest, to remind her of her love for the Elturel refugees and specifically Rolan, Cal, and Lia.)

27. What is the worst thing they've ever done/said to someone they love?

So, I don't know about the worst thing EVER but it's certainly one of the more dubious things she's done. When Dani's mother falls ill, around the time Dani is 15, Dani tries to work at a local tavern and as a laundress to earn enough coin to pay for a healer. But it's not enough and her mother ends up with a chronic condition where her legs are perpetually weak, so she walks with a cane. Despite this, knowing that her mother is weak, Dani begs her mom to let her join the Merry Rovers the next time they swing by, because then she could make a lot more money to send back to her mother. She is genuinely trying to help, but I think part of her was also stifled by living in the same tiny house as her ailing mom and jealous of her best friends, Liara and Paraxxel, who were getting to see all kinds of corners of the city as part of the Merry Rovers. It takes some convincing but her mother eventually agrees. Without a better income, they can't pay for more healing and she might lose the use of her legs for good. But even so, it must have been heart-wrenching for Maeva (her mom). Dani's father dipped out of her life the minute he heard Maeva was pregnant, and she never saw him again. Brann and his troupe come and go, and though they always try to visit, they never stay for long. Now her own daughter wants to leave, too. At fifteen, no less, and when Maeva is struggling to learn how to navigate life with weakened legs. Dani never really comes to terms with the fact that her request hurt her mother, in part because her mother never lets her know it hurt so badly. And her mother does eventually come to see Dani joining the Rovers as a blessing, since Dani and the Rovers do still visit often (and Brann keeps her updated quite frequently via secret sending messages he sends her). But yeah, the worst thing she ever did to someone she loved was probably abandoning her mother when she still kind of needed her, even if she was doing so to try and be helpful in a different way.

---

Freyr

8. After Act 3, what does their life look like? What are they talking about at the reunion party?

As the Durge? Freyr is living it up either as the ruler of all the world (thanks Bhaal-Daddy) or he's currently underground with Minthara plotting to take over Baldur's Gate with her. It all depends on whether he decides he wants to be Daddy's Favorite Murderer or decides he's ambitious enough to tackle world domination without the aid of god-like powers. If you ask him about his plans at the reunion party he will tersely answer something like, "You'll see. Or you can ask my wife, if you think you can fare better with her." As a companion, though...I imagine Freyr is still a Bhaalspawn companion, but maybe a bit less "Bhaal's perfect instrument" and more "oh, no you're like the literal spawn of Bhaal and some lady, like in the Sarevok days." So he's still a bit unhinged and bloodthirsty, and certainly still ambitious. I have no idea what his companion questline would look like to be honest, but I could see him either ending it as a general or military strategist of some kind (in a good ending, idk who he's a strategist for, though) or as the leader of Bhaal's temple (in a bad ending). Either way, at the reunion party he's talking (very little) about his next big evil plans, critiquing the wine, looking bored, and suggesting, with a very straight face, that the thing that would really liven this party up would be a good battle to the death.

Thanks for the ask!!!

[queers-gambit]

Bright Light

prompt: a Royal Wedding takes place.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 7.0k+

note: your honor, i can fix him!

warnings: you know what, idk if there's cursing, but it's me, so i feel like it's a good bet. baby making smut, small tension, rumors that cause discomfort, talk of previous abusive marriage.

previous: part four: Total Eclipse of the Heart

next: final / part six: One Sunrise at a Time

Chaos had descended over the Capital, and in the Red Keep, servants were losing their minds running around trying to perfect everything for the upcoming wedding festivities. The Prince of the City, Daemon, the groom, was highly opinionated on his nuptials and was adamant to surprise his bride, keeping you out of the loop so that you might see the decorations candidly.

The only detail Daemon was unaware of was your dress, and the Queen Alicent had brought in dressers and tailors from all over the country (and three from across the Narrow Sea) to bring you options. In the end, there was a gorgeous white silk number selected, and Viserys had it sent off to a jeweler.

When the dress returned, it was encrusted with dark rubies that would surely compliment the dark Targaryen robe you were to be draped in later in the day.

And to start, you were roused from sleep by Mary - who had been fighting Daemon off at the door, insisting the groom cannot see the bride before the ceremony. "Just lemme kiss 'er!" Daemon grunted against the door, but the smaller maid threw her entire weight into it, slamming the lock in place.

"No! You'll see her soon! Go get ready!" Mary barked through the wood.

"Mary!"

"Daemon! I open this door, and I'm throwing a shoe!"

It was quiet for a moment before Daemon's sigh was heard before his forehead lightly thumped to the wood, "Tell her I love her, please."

"She knows," Mary smirked at you, laid in bed still. "But I'll tell her, Prince. Now, go! Don't be late!"

You enjoyed several cups of tea as you got ready, the Queen allowing you to use a bigger suite to prepare yourself. In fact, Alicent was present with Rhaenyra, and as Mary was pinning your necklace in place, there were two fists pounding at the door.

"Let 'em in," you smiled with a knowing chuckle, readjusting your dress in the mirror as Rhaenyra turned to open the double doors.

"Lads," she smirked to Kase and Jamie, letting them pass over the threshold. "Nice to see you, too."

"Hi, Nyra," Kase teased lightly, squeezing her shoulder as he passed into the room.

"Oh, wow," Jamie breathed, eyes wide as he caught sight of you. At least Kase remembered protocol and bowed to the Princess and Queen, before, too, gawking at you. "Y-You look... Wow."

"Yeah," Kase agreed, "you're a vision, step-mother. The Gods envy your beauty, my goodness, is Daemon a lucky bastard."

Your head cocked gently, offering, "You know, should either of you feel comfortable to do so... Maybe you'd like to drop the 'step' part in the whole 'step-mother' thing...?"

"Yeah?" Kase beamed, Jamie smirking gently.

"We'll talk of that later," Jamie directed diplomatically. "For now, we are to escort you to the Great Hall."

"The both of you?" Alicent asked, her hands folded neatly, brows perked in curiosity.

"Well, who else?" Jamie cocked his head lightly.

"Jamie," you warned.

"No, forgive me, you mistake my tone for disrespect. Your Grace, I only meant that her father would be the one to usually give her away, but we all know the present situation. He'd rather give his blessing to a different daughter..."

You sighed in guilt as Kase mentioned, "Food supplies continue to dwindle, too. The people grow restless from the Lord's restriction from his land's farming."

"People are going to revolt against the Royal Feast," Rheanyra worried, glancing around. "Should we not put more guards in place? What if something were to happen?"

You nodded absently, "What might happen?"

"Wouldn't put it past the citizens to riot," Jamie shrugged. "They grow uneasy as the supply lessens. Vendors don't venture around here much anymore..."

"I have made the arrangement with the kitchen staff that all leftovers are to be given to the orphanages of the city," you spoke softly, pinning your earrings in.

"Ah!" A voice boomed from the doorway, making you all jump slightly. "Oh, my apologies," Viserys beamed as he stepped into the room. "It is hard for me to contain my glee!"

"Husband," Alicent greeted, "what a surprise, we were not expecting you."

"No, no," he chuckled, "normally I would not bother, but this is a fine and rare occasion. My brother marrying his woman," he sighed, looking you up and down, "and my, what a vision she is. My Lady, being as we are soon to be considered family to one another, I was honored when Daemon asked me to bring this to you," he showed the velvet box in his hands.

"Oh," you breathed, stepping towards the King, "you did not have to do this, please, Your Grace, you should be - "

"Nonsense," he assured with a grin. "My brother is nervous and I thought by seeing you and giving this gift, I might assure him that you are okay in this, too."

"Oh, more than okay," you assured. "I'm eager for this union, Your Grace. Um, but... This custom? I do not know it?" You wondered, pointing to the gift.

"'Tis not a custom," he nodded, "but my own brother's vocation. Here, open it... Maybe you'll wear it today?"

You smiled gently and opened the velvet box, gasping, "By all the Gods! Daemon!"

"What is it!?" Rhaenyra asked in excitement, everyone forming a circle around the wooden table the box rested on. "Oh, wow..."

"That's got to cost more than... Well, more than my life," Kase giggled, looking at the gems in the velvet box. "Well, one thing is for sure."

"Hmm?" Jamie hummed, eyes bulging as he couldn't look away.

"That man is whipped," Kase laughed. "I mean - seriously!? Who sends their future wife something like this, but a man who is far beyond smitten?"

He'd sent you a beautiful diamond necklace that was strung in a way to look like tear drops down your collarbones, neck, and chest. To say it was beautiful was an understatement but by every God there ever was, you were in love with it. There were matching earrings that would push into your piercings and dangle in single drops, swinging with the extra wisps of hair that escaped your pinned up-do.

"I don't know what to say," you whispered, tears gathering. "I-I do not deserve this - my Gods, how expensive this must've been!"

"If I may?" Viserys smiled lightly as Alicent pushed a handkerchief into your hand. You nodded. "This necklace has been in the Targaryen family for ages now. Generations, even. The last to own this was my grandmother, the Queen Alysanne, and if Daemon is gifting it to you, it is because he views you as family - as blood. No matter where you hail, he is assuring you that you will always have a place in his life, my Lady. If it not be too bold, might I?" He gestured to the necklace, making you nod furiously.

Mary reached up to unclasp the other necklace, moving from your way as Viserys stepped up. He sighed when the necklace latched, you turning to show him the product after you switched out your earrings. "Oh, this is it," Rhaenyra nodded, clapping slightly. "You look breathtaking!"

"You look beautiful, sister," Viserys smirked. "I shall take my leave - "

"Wait," you swallowed thickly, feeling your nerves spike as the King smiled patiently. "Um... I could never repay you - or-or Daemon for this, for all you've done. But... Should it please you, I'd like to ask if it be possible for us to fly to Dragonstone where... Where Daemon and I might marry per Old Valyrian traditions?"

Viserys nodded, "Yes, yes, what an excellent idea. We shall travel at the weeks end, for this week, the whole city will celebrate you. Then, after, we might make it to Dragonstone, and there, you and Daemon might reside for a period of time."

"Oh, do you mean... You do not want us in court?"

"No, sister," he smirked, "I only mean to say that you would be welcomed to start your life as a married couple at Dragonstone."

"Oh," you breathed, giggling after. "How silly - yes, um, yes, that would be most pleasing, Your Grace. Thank you."

"Of course," he promised, giving your hands one last squeeze before taking his leave.

You sighed nervously, looking at yourself in the mirror and feeling otherworldly. "M-Might I ask the room a question?"

"Of course, whatever you might wonder," Jamie permitted as Kase helped himself to the complimentary food left on a platter.

"Am I who Daemon will want forever?" You worried, staring in the mirror. "You do not think he will... Grow old of me, do you?"

"My Lady," Rhaenyra grinned, "I can with full conviction say that my uncle loves you deeply and would see your life together start as soon as possible. If he had his way, he'd of married you a decade ago."

"Yeah?" You sniffled.

"Of course," she smiled. "You're a vision, truly. My uncle is very lucky."

"Let's not keep them waiting," Alicent nodded, ushering everyone from the room. Kase carried the train of your silk gown, Jamie kept a tight hold of you as you focused only on your steps. To say you were nervous was an understatement as this wedding was to be a 'public' event.

"Just breathe," Jamie soothed, patting the hand curled around his elbow. "You look radiant, and you're about to marry the love of your life. Right?"

"Right..." You felt tears well in your eyes, "You know, I'm sorry I couldn't love your father."

"In truth, we rarely did," Kase smirked.

"Do not worry," Jamie nodded, "we understand how politics work. But know how happy we are to bare witness to this occasion."

"I am overjoyed you both are here," you sighed.

"Aline and Jocey are coming, too," Jamie informed, leading you down the stone stairs carefully. "They are very excited to see you."

You managed to keep your tears at bay until you reached the landing, seeing the swarms of servants in the short distance. "A moment, please," you whispered to them, tears slowly leaking as you took hold of one of their hands each, "because I need to tell you this. For years now, you have welcomed me into your family, and I have felt every ounce of love you have. I-I know I did not birth you, and I know your sisters are even married themselves, but know that I think of you all as my own kin."

Kase squeezed your hand, "You are kin."

"Then please... Do not let me trip," you chuckled, wiping your cheeks of your tears as the two lads smirked at each other.

"Here," Jamie nodded, using a handkerchief to dab at your tears. "You are going to ruin your make-up, mother."

"Oh," you wept openly, latching onto him. "Oh, yo-you called me mother! Oh, my boy!"

He laughed and wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, one that lasted a few moments before being joined by Kase. The three of you gave one final squeeze before you accepted the cloth and fixed your face, Kase nudging Jamie, "Knew you were a softy, hey?"

"Piss off," Jamie laughed.

"You made her cry."

"It's a happy cry," you grumbled lightly, swatting at them. "All right, all right, help me... How's my face?"

You sniffled again and looked at them, blinking a few times. Kase assured, "Beautiful as ever. Truly, Daemon is lucky. We often hear it whispered at court that you are truly the beauty of this country. Maybe he doesn't deserve you."

"There's still time to run," Jamie teased.

"No, no," you chuckled. "I'm ready to marry him - Gods, am I ready," you nodded, waving your hands to cool your face as Jamie tucked the cloth away.

"If you need it again, you know where to find me," he chuckled, offering his arm. "Are you ready, mother?"

Kase mimicked his action, beaming, "Mum?"

"Oh, my sweet boys," you whispered, taking their arms and starting forward. "'S lot of people."

"They're all intrigued by the Rogue Prince settling down willingly," Jamie explained.

"Yes, word spread of his marriage declaration," Kase added, both speaking quietly so only you heard as you approached the doors to the throne room - which had been transformed to host the wedding ceremony. "Everyone was so skeptical - they're curious about you."

You sighed.

"Not helping," Jamie muttered under his breath.

"Sorry," Kase winced some. "You all right?"

"Yeah, yeah," you whispered, readjusting your stance. "All right," you nodded to the guard, who nodded back, and gave the signal to start the musical procession. "Don't let me fall, lads."

"Never," they assured in union, the double doors opening, and your mouth hanging open.

"Oh, my Gods," you couldn't hold back, gawking at the interior of the throne room.

"When Daemon's left in charge," Jamie muttered. "Gods does he go all out," Kase finished.

You evened your breathing and readied your face, the two young lords leading you down the stone steps. The entire hall was packed - like it was months ago for Rhaenyra's wedding - yet you could only focus on the aisle ahead of you. Daemon had wanted a 'public' event, and that meant having the actual ceremony in front of everyone before the celebratory feast was to begin.

And at the end of the aisle was a Septon ready to perform the ceremony, and at the base of the stairs, there stood your fiancé. Daemon was fighting back a grin as you walked, his brother stood beside the Septon as a sign of power - but also blessing of this union.

There was nobody to stand on your side - or so you thought. There stood both of your step-daughters, tears in their eyes as they grinned at you. When you came to a halt, Daemon stepped up and offered his hand to Jamie first, "Son."

He smirked, teasing, "Step-father."

"Oh, what a title," you whispered. Jamie took Daemon's hand in a clasp, nodding meaningfully before Daemon did the same with Kase. The two lads then bent down some to peck either of your cheeks, moving to stand with their sisters as the Prince turned to you finally.

"Dove," he breathed, looking you up and down; taking your hands in his. "Gods, do you look breathtaking."

"Me? You look incredible," you smiled, biting your bottom lip as emotion was coating your throat. Viserys, with a grin of his own, subtly cleared his throat, and made Daemon sigh lightly.

"Come," he whispered, leading you carefully up the stairs. As the Septon gave his sermon, Daemon's eyes never left yours, and for a moment, you swore you could see tears swelling. Jamie cloaked you in the colors and sigil of 'your' House, more words spoken, hands being bound together, vows made, love professed, promises made, and when time, the cloak fell from your figure as Daemon eagerly twirled his black and red cloak around your shoulders.

After a few more promises, the Septon beamed, "Daemon? You may now - finally - kiss your bride, and bring her under your House officially. May the Gods shine upon your marriage, and let it prosper."

Daemon didn't wait a moment longer to step closer and pull you in, his lips smashing to yours as the entire court room erupted in loud cheers. Viserys clapped loudly, and even Alicent was grinning authentically; Daemon's one hand holding your waist tightly as the other slid across your jaw to hold your neck, too.

You chuckled against his lips, patting his chest, "Okay, okay, c'mon."

"Oh, my wife," he purred against your lips, pressing another kiss. "Finally."

"I love you," you promised, the Septon and Viserys moving away as servants were bringing out the head table and dressing it quickly; giving you both a moment to bask in your glory of finally wedding each other. "Is this real?"

"Yes, my love," he nodded, nose nuzzling yours. "Gods, you look beautiful."

"Which reminds me," you grinned, "the decorations look incredible, my husband. But where do these flowers hail?"

"They're called Wisteria, my wife," he smirked, pecking your lips, "and I had them shipped from Pentos."

"Daemon," you whined lightly.

"Well, in truth, Rhaenyra went with me to get them all," he chuckled lightly, letting both of his arms coil around your silk-covered waist.

"You did not..."

"I wanted to make sure you got the wedding you deserve," Daemon chuckled. "You like it?"

"It's beautiful," you assured. "I do not think I deserve it."

"You deserve so much more, my pet," he whispered.

"My boys called you step-father," you returned.

"That is good," he nodded, "is it not?"

"It is," you rushed, nodding, "just shocking, I suppose."

"Means they accept us," Daemon smirked. "And we will remain to see them marry."

"Yeah?"

"Of course, whatever my dove wants," he promised, glancing to the side. "Come, let's sit."

You let your hand tangle with Daemon's, moving for the high-table. You and Daemon sat in the middle - with Viserys right beside him, and then Alicent, and the Hand, Ser Strong. Beside you was the Princess Rhaenyra, and her husband Lord Laenor beside her. Their families were in the crowd, your own being lost quickly to the merriment.

As time passed, you found yourself leaning into your husband, hands tangled together, and gossiping lightly.

"Do you see the Lady Alloway?" You whispered, nose grazing up the skin in front of his ear before placing a slow, tender kiss.

He hummed, "She dresses as if working the brothels."

"Her usual attire," you chuckled, "but the color she wears..."

"Targaryen," he noted, turning his head to mutter to you. "And the Ser Thaller?"

"Gods," you giggled, "he's dressed as a peacock, no?"

He chuckled in return, "Thank the Gods for giving me a woman with a sense of humor."

You hummed, petting over his cheek that you weren't kissing. "This feels right," you sighed lightly, "to sit here, with my husband..."

He nodded, "How ready I am for this feast to be over."

"We've apparently a whole week to celebrate," you smirked, "might wanna slow down, my love."

"I'm putting a baby in you - tonight," He assured, nodding definitively. "There will be no slowing down for us, pet. But... My brother does like to prance."

"Well," you smirked, "perhaps I will join his lead. My husband hasn't even asked me to dance."

"Oh, that's punishable," Daemon shook his head, standing. "My love, my Lady wife, would you honor me with a dance?"

Taking his hand, you stood to your feet, "I'd love to, my sweet Lord husband."

He chuckled and lead you to the crowded floor, the pair of you stuck together like glue. Gentle touches, soft caresses, hushed words, and bright, unfiltered grins. When Daemon grew a thirst, he took leave to relieve that, and so gave time for you to overhear a few Ladies of the court gossiping about how they had seen Prince Daemon sneaking in and out of the whorehouses not two days prior.

You tried not to listen, you really did. But the women spoke with such conviction that it was hard to ignore. More so when you heard a few other whispers being spread - all regarding Daemon's infidelity.

Confusion hurt your heart, turning to spy your husband smirking as he spoke to Crowned Heir Rhaenyra - a smirk that meant he was being less than innocent. Perhaps being flirty, but definitely being mischievous.

Something in your chest snapped, and then a hand was grabbing yours; making you gasp and turn with surprise. "Oh, Y-Your Grace, forgive me, I was lost in thought."

The Queen nodded, "No need, I am sorry for being so startling. I came to check on you," she glanced around. "I expected Daemon to be on you the entire night."

"Oh, no, he was, uh... Thirsty," you nodded meekly.

"Does something bother you, my Lady? You should be smiling, enjoying the festivities," she gestured outward to the party. "I hear the Prince spent quite a lot of money for this all."

"Oh, I don't doubt it," you nodded, twiddling with your fingers. "Um, in truth, Your Grace... There is something on my mind preventing me from enjoying the merriment."

"And what might that be?"

"Will you be honest with me?"

"I will try to be," She smiled warmly.

You gulped, "It seems as if the Ladies of court have much to say about our union, and there were some more... Scandalous gossips regarding the Princess and her uncle, my Lord husband."

"No, no, my Lady, do not plague yourself with petty rumors. The Ladies speak in jealousy, you need not worry because I have seen and heard first hand how your Lord husband truly feels."

"Then why is he with her and not me, on all days...?" You sighed, bowing after. "My apologies, Your Grace, I did not mean to burden you with my worries. I will go dance, I think."

Before she could response, you spun around to disappear amongst the dancers. You searched for anyone with defined jugs that held strong, exquisite, expensive Braavosi wine. When a servant boy was located, he was all too happy to fill your goblet - though, he looked nervous, asking, "Is that enough, my Lady?"

"Maybe a bit more, love, if you would?" He nodded and poured more, waiting until you assured, "That's good, that's perfect, thank you, lad. Are you having an all right night?"

"Of course, my Lady - "

"Nobody's been mean to you, have they?"

"Well," he looked sheepish, "in truth, my Lady, your father's been... Very drunk all night, and I think the wine makes him bolder, louder."

You nodded, "Yes, wines will do that to people. Do me a favor, and tomorrow morning, you will come to me and report any Lords or Ladies who were rude to you, yes?"

"Oh, well, if my Lady insists," he breathed with relief.

"Your name?"

"Arren."

"Arren...?"

"Waters, my Lady."

"Arren Waters," you repeated. "Good good, then I will know who to call upon. What say you do me a favor, Arren?"

"Whatever my Lady needs, I will do with pride," he beamed, standing straighter; rightening his shoulders so both hands cradled the special jug of wine carefully.

"Will you be my eyes and ears tonight?" You muttered. "You blend in, you're young, nobody's thinking twice about your presences. But where I cannot be, where I cannot hear, will you do so for me?"

"Oh, whatever you need," he nodded again. "I can report tomorrow morning?"

"During breakfast before the tournament." you nodded. "Thank you, again, Arren."

With a wink, you turned and again, melted into the crowd; downing half of your goblet in two full drinks before someone was catching your arm. "Mother!" Kase laughed, obviously already drunk off his arse. "Come have a dance with me, please!"

"I do not think I am nearly drunk enough for that," You laughed, trying to stabilize him. But he only groaned.

"Then drink faster!"

"Mum!" This time Jamie called, leading his sisters Aline and Jocey behind him.

"Mum?" Aline repeated with distain. "When did that start?"

"Today," you chuckled, hugging both of your step-daughters, offering a kiss to their cheeks. "I will take it as a wedding present from them. It is good to see you both, you look beautiful."

"Thank you, and might I say you look extraordinary," Jocey smiled, preening lightly over you.

"It is good the lads have you," Aline added.

"I am determined to find Jamie a suitable wife," you chuckled.

"No, it's more than that," Jocey shrugged lightly, watching Jamie and Kase throw an arm around each other's shoulders as they spoke with animation. "Thank you for being there when we weren't."

"Much like myself, you ladies were preforming your duty to your family," you nodded back. "Loving you lot like family was far too easy."

"Hmm, I suppose that explains the rumors," Aline winced some, glancing at her sister.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, chest hollowing.

"Don't," Jocey warned with a glare.

"Y/N, tell us in truth," Aline turned to face you with determination steeling her features, "were you cheating on our father?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"I ask if you started sleeping with the Prince before our father passed - by what I might say are strange circumstances."

Confusion swirled in your gut, but then it all clicked in your heart and mind. "You'd consider words of whispers from my jealous sister over what you know to be tied and true from me? Fascinating, considering you were just thanking me."

"Your sister?" Aline cocked her head.

"She is the only person I can think who would ever start such a vile rumor," you explained, cocking your head some. "Someone who would not care for repercussions because they believe themself untouchable."

"So, we are to believe our father's death did not come by hand of your new husband, the Prince?" Aline crossed her arms tightly, and you took another mouthful of wine. "Our father was a solider and did not often lose!"

"I'd tread carefully, Lady Aline Tully," you cocked your head some, looking her up and down, "for rumors of such hateful accusations can get one into a lot of trouble. I did not love your father, this is true, and I was unable to ever give him a child. But as rumor has it, your mothers met fates similar to what I would have met, should your father not of fallen during honorable sword-play. Now," you finished your goblet, "your brother asked me for a dance. I suggest you both try to enjoy the festivities and not dwell on my bedroom habits, because I promise you won't get far. As I'm sure you've imagined, or perhaps even heard through your precious rumors, the Prince is insatiable and there is too much for either of you to ever fathom. Have a good night, Ladies, I look forward to us dining in the morning."

Setting your goblet with more force than what was necessary to a near-by table, you moved around the two whispering-sisters to smile at Kase. "I think you asked for a dance, my boy?"

"Oh, hell yeah! Let's go!" He laughed, pulling you onto the dance floor and almost instantly joining in-step to whatever music played. "Jamie, c'mon!" Kase laughed, and Jamie followed; with their sisters watching from the sidelines, the three of you easily joined the steps of those around you.

You felt his eyes burn into your back, but paid your new husband no mind - because if he could be overly distracted by his niece, you'd not give him the time of day. However, just as you turned and anticipated stepping into Jamie's arms, Daemon was there to take your hands in his, leading you in your dance.

"Oh," you sighed, "nice of you to finally join me."

"Oh-hooo, is that malice in your voice, my love?" He teased.

"Why did you look so close to your niece, Daemon? Is there something I do not know?" You asked, not wanting to tip-toe around anything anymore. "Are you playing me for a fool?"

He sighed against your ear, still holding onto you by latching to your waist as people around you changed partners. "Dove, there's nothing for you to know, nor worry over, because there isn't anything there. I have my eyes only for you, and I would not have married you if I didn't want you. Do not think so little of me that I would ever lead you on."

"Then you are no longer visiting the Street of Silk?"

His lips moved over the shell of your ear, "There is no time, nor cum left in me with how insatiable you are."

Funny how he used that word to describe you, too.

You sighed, "Do not avoid the question, Daemon. People talk - people spy. I do not wish to know that I have just married a man who is going to treat me like the last did."

Daemon came to a halt, and everything around you stood still - despite still moving at a normal place. It was just you and he, and he looked almost betrayed as his tongue switched to High Valyrian. "You would compare me to that fat fuck? The man who abused you? Only ever hurt you?"

"I would only ever have you tell me the truth - please," you begged in response. "I cannot stand the way they speak of us, yet I can endure it for you, but only if you're honest. I cannot bare the idea of you in the arms of another woman, so, if you've visited the Street, please, no more. Please, just... Come to me, instead. I know you are not used to a loving marriage, but we are not the same as before, and I am not the Lady Royce."

He frowned, "How could I let you believe I could ever want anyone else? That I would ever be with anyone else? I know you are not like the Bronzed Bitch - and I thank the Gods for it! I married you for love, and that is rare in this country - in this lifetime, that I am not keen on ruining it so swiftly. So, no, my pet, I have not visited the Street of Silk since you came back into my life - for there is no reason for me to go there ever again. Less you want to," he ended with a small smirk.

"The girls asked if you killed their father," you told him, worry shooting through your heart as you kept your conversation private by speaking in his mother's tongue. "I've reason to believe Jasline and my father continue to pour poison in the ears that are willing to listen, and I am beginning to feel... I don't know, trapped? The truth is, I have no land, nor titles - "

"I do not care for that, and I've told you time and again, you are all I want because you are all I need." Daemon's hands moved to cradle your jaw, sweeping his thumb over your cheekbones, "And then, please, talk to me, pet, and do not listen to their words. You and I know the truth, and we just swore vows to one another that we would not lie, nor hold secrets."

You nodded, "Then it is just petty gossip?"

"As always," he assured in a whisper, pressing a long kiss to your forehead. "Are you tired, dove?"

"A bit," you admitted, "today was overwhelming."

"Then let us sit," he wrapped his arms around you, moving for the high banquet table again.

"We cannot just... Leave?"

"Not yet," he sighed, "because Viserys has not departed yet. The King is the first to leave, or he give's dismissal to us. Come here," he lowered you into your seat before taking his, nudging a platter closer. "Eat, dove. Something tells me you're in for a long night."

"Daemon," you chuckled, but did indeed begin to graze.

"Why would your step-daughters ask about me?" He asked quietly, leaning his elbows to his knees to be closer to you, chin gently rubbing on your upper arm.

"They are suspicious of how their father died," you sighed. "Believed it not to be as natural as we tried to pass."

"Hmm," he considered, leaning in to press his lips over your shoulder. "What did you tell them?"

"That it was unwise to make such vile accusations."

He chuckled, "My good and loyal girl."

"Here," you fed him a bit of cake that had been passed out. He hummed as he licked his lips with a smirk, making you tease, "You're making it very hard to just sit here."

"I had an idea, actually," he mentioned, glancing nervously at you. "You still hold the Old Gods, do you not?"

"I was born in the North," you nodded, leaning back in your chair as he did, head tilted down to look at you. "I find peace at the Weirwood, I prefer to pray there, yes."

Daemon smirked, "Then I've a surprise for you."

"I do, too."

"Hey?" He smirked. "I'm supposed to gift you, my dove."

Your eyes rolled playfully, "I'm allowed to gift you, too."

"Hmm," he considered, "all right, what is it?"

"Well, what is yours?"

He smirked, "You will see."

"Then so shall you," you smirked back.

"Devilish woman," he purred, leaning in to press his lips to yours in a smoldering kiss.

"Daemon," you warned with a small giggle.

"They will get used to this," he purred, "for I do not intend to hold back on my affections."

You sighed lightly, "I do not know what I did to deserve you."

"Everything right," he promised in a whisper.

"Brother," Viserys called, "brother! Come, give a speech!"

"No, Viserys, it's getting late - "

"All the more reason!" Viserys laughed. "Speech! Speech! Your King wants a speech!"

"Come on," you smiled at Daemon, "say a few words of thanks, wish them all a well-and-true tournament, and let us be done, hmm? He might let us leave after."

"You might be right," he muttered, Viserys rousing the whole hall to call for Daemon's words. When he stood, they cheered heartily, making you grin behind your hand. "Friends, family," he called, "peers, come, raise your glasses."

He lead the way by holding his goblet up, continuing, "I'd like to give a toast to my new bride, and tell her publicly, that I am without a doubt beyond grateful for our blessed union - after all this time," he smirked down at you, offering his free hand. When you stood, his arm snaked around your waist to hold you to his side, speaking loudly to the hall, "A toast to my gorgeous wife, and to a prosperous marriage that's finally come to fruition." His goblet rose higher in the air. "May the Seven bless us, and bless all of you - who have chosen to celebrate with us this week!" The hall broke our in an outrageous applause. "May the wine flow freely and you all find your winnings this week!"

They cheered again, making you smile as Daemon prompted, "To the new Princess of the City!"

You felt your eyes bulge slightly as he grinned and took his obligatory sip of wine - the hall echoing his words before taking their own drinks. "What did you just say?" You asked quietly.

"Viserys has written decree that your official title is Princess - though, you will have no claim to the throne."

"Oh, my Gods," you breathed, looking between his eyes as you pet over his chest. "If we weren't in a room full of people, I'd take you on that Throne again. Daemon - this is too much - "

"No, I'd give you the world if I could," he grinned. "My Princess."

"Dameon - "

"It's a title, my love," he nodded gently. "We will come to discuss your position in court, and perhaps on the Small Counsel."

You nodded gently, "You're too much sometimes..."

He shrugged some, looking over your shoulder before shifting you lightly into his side. The King approached you both, grinning widely as he laughed, opening his arms, "My! You know how to give a toast, brother."

"He's gifted with words when he chooses to be," you teased, patting your husband's stomach.

"And you!"

"And me!"

Viserys chuckled, and unknown to you, clocked the look his brother gave him. "Well, today's been long and if you'd like to retire, feel free to send orders to the kitchens for wine or whatever have you."

"Thank you, Your Grace," you breathed in relief, watching him smirk with a nod - offering more congratulations before bidding goodnight and taking his leave.

"Come," Daemon smirked, taking your hand and leading you straight for the doors. A few drunker guests hollered and whooped after you both; your legs jogging lightly to keep up with Daemon's elongated strides. He wanted to get you away from the crude comments as soon as possible, and lead you away up the stairs - out to the foyer - and then down a hall that did not house your room.

"Daemon? Love? C'mon, slow down," you whispered, tugging on his hand.

"Sorry," he nodded back, glancing over your shoulder, "there are some who take rudely to the after-wedding traditions."

Your eyes rolled, "Fuck them..."

"No, you're gonna fuck me," he smirked, leading you around another corner.

"Why're we going to the Godswood?" You wondered. "Sweetheart, aren't we going to bed?"

"Eager, are we?"

"I feel my slick dripping down my thighs," you bit back, "and it's a husband's duty to handle that, is it not?"

"I'll handle it," he assured, looking this way and that, "after I marry you in the eyes of your Gods."

"Daemon?"

But he paused, revealing the Godswood to you. There was only Mary there, beaming as she waited for you both. "Marry me, again?" He smirked at you.

"Oh," you breathed, forehead to his for a moment as you squeezed his hand. "Yes, yes, yes, this is - yes, it's perfect!"

"Come," he nodded, leading you up to Mary - and within minutes, your hands were bound, and you were repeating more vows to one another - ending togther,

"I am her's, and she is mine." "I am his, and he is mine."

"Prince Daemon, you may kiss your bride," Mary beamed, watching Daemon swoop in again to kiss you with all tongue; hands holding you still, and keeping you pressed against his front. Mary quietly left the Godswood to escape for the halls of the Keep, peaking back to watch with a grin as your arms wrapped around Daemon's neck.

"Wait," you breathed, pausing your kiss to glance around - but failed to hold back your moan when his mouth descended to your neck. "Daemon," you begged.

"Shh," he hushed, licking a bold strip up to your pulse point. "We're alone, I've had it arranged."

"What?" You asked, pressing your chest into his as your back arched.

He sighed lightly, "I've paid the servants off to keep everyone away."

"And you trust them?"

"If they value their lives..."

You giggled lightly, "Threatening people in my name?"

"For your honor," he purred, tugging your hands with him. He moved around the tree, allowing you a single corner of privacy as he unlaced the Targaryen cloak from your shoulders. "Tell me how you want it."

"Breed me," you spoke instantly, letting your tongue lap with his as he splayed the cloak out, "and then take me to bed properly."

"Whatever my wife commands, I will provide," he purred, scraping his teeth over your jaw before turning you rapidly - making you gasp. "On your knees," he spoke in your ear, lowering you to the ground, and yanking at his belts.

You positioned yourself on your hands and knees, ignoring the cold ground, and pulling your skirt up over your hips to give a wiggle; peering back at him. He groaned and reached a hand for your warmth, hissing through his teeth as he prodded his fingers into your wet heat - other hand desperate to free himself.

"Put a baby in me, Daemon," you demanded.

"Yes," he huffed, humping into you as your back bowed. "Oh, fuck," he hissed, sinking all the way into you as your hips adjusted to his length.

You moaned in response, "Wanna make you a Daddy."

He panted as he took hold of your hips, "Keep talking."

"Want your cum dripping outta me," you whined, bracing your hands as he pounded into you. "And my belly swollen with your child. Want you touching me - fuck - fuck - fuck. Harder, please - "

"Call me Dady, again."

"Oh, fuck, Daddy, yes, fuck me harder," you begged, cheek pressed to the soft velvet of the black cloak.

"Can you take it, pet?" he smirked, readjusting his hold; slapping a palm to your arse cheek, and relishing in the ripple of flesh.

"Yes, Daddy," you preened, his hand snaking around to hold your throat and bring you back into his chest. "Can handle anything you throw at me - promise, promise, yes, Daddy, please."

"Oh-hoo," he moaned, hips stuttering to hump into yours; hand tightening. "Take it, take it, take it," he seethed, hips punctuating each word. Your own hand drifted to rub at your clit, dropping to your chest as you went limp from your orgasm crashing into you almost violently. Daemon gave a small shout, hand latched to the back of your neck, and his hips grinding into yours as he found his end.

"Oh, fuck," you breathed, panting into the ground.

"Yeah," his grin was heard, a hand petting over your hair. "You get tighter everyday, pet."

"Hush," you laughed lightly, whining right after as he pulled his softening cock out of your cunt. He paused to push his fingers into your cunt, pushing his cum back up into you with an air of fascination.

Within 15 minutes, Daemon had you in his arms and entering your room to lay you on your bed - locking the door as you stripped from your wedding attire. When you peaked behind you, your husband was watching with a newly-poured goblet of wine, eyes raking over you. "Get on the bed," he demanded lowly, almost growling his words. "I'm not done with you, yet."

"Good," you nodded, sitting pretty and slowly opening your legs. Your fingers ran down your lips, toying with his cum that still leaked out of you - watching his throat bob. "I'm not pregnant yet."

"We'll fix that," he assured, standing to his feet to set his now-empty goblet aside.

"I want you bare," your head cocked.

"Making demands?"

"Isn't it my husband's duty to ensure I get what I want?" You smirked.

"My good girl," he smirked, "you're learning."

final / part six: One Sunrise at a Time

Midnight Calls masterlist

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

[yunopouts]

1,2,3 - n. jaemin

-> pairing: sadist(kinda)!jaemin x fem reader

-> genre: filth smut

-> warnings: spanking, unprotected sex, rough sex (kinda? not really tho), oral (f receiving), biting, fingering, handjob, overstimulation, squirting, creampie

-> word count: 2.1k

this is some weird shit. prepare yourselves.

The ending is where the actual filth starts (literally for like 2.3 seconds tho)

I am so sorry.

After laying in bed for literally five hours, you decided to get up and walk around your apartment. Your boyfriend was at work and you couldn’t go out because you’re living during a fucking pandemic (w/n: YES MAKE THAT SHIT REALISTIC😩), so you were stuck at home. All by yourself, with nothing to do.

You walked yourself to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbed out the juice.

“I can just drink from the carton.” You thought out loud. “No, that's kinda gross, I can’t do that.” You shook your head and just grabbed a glass from the cabinet. Thinking of what you should do, you wandered around, sipping your juice from time to time. “I don’t want to watch tv, cause I just finished doing that. Jesus Christ, this shouldn’t be that hard to do.” You whined, stamping your feet like a child throwing a tantrum to get what they want.

Heaving a sigh, you continued moping around.

“Screw this, I’m just gonna shower.” You chugged your juice and set the glass in the sink before heading to the bathroom.

-

When you walked out of the bathroom all clean, you headed to the living room- where you were unexpectedly met by your boyfriend, Jaemin, who was sitting on the couch. You stopped in the entry way, making eye contact with him and smiled when he called you over.

“How's my pretty girl doing?” he asked, looking up at you with a lazy smile. His hands traveled from your waist, around to your ass and down to the back of your thighs, sliding up and down.

“Fine, bored.” You replied with a sigh. “You okay?” you ran your fingers through his hair. Jaemin leaned forward, pressing his lips just above the waistband of your pants.

“So perfect.” He purred in response, kissing you again, slowly moving further and further down your waist. His eyes connected with yours, glassy, dark and filled with lust. From your thighs, Jaemin’s hands went up and started to tug down your pants, helping him by shimmying out of them.

Standing up, Jaemin brought you into a kiss, one that was slow yet needy at the same time. You gasped when you felt a burning sensation against your ass. Jaemin smirked against your lips, doing it again, making you moan this time.

Arms wrapping around your waist, you lead your boyfriend backwards, slow enough to get there without tripping on anything. As you kissed, Jaemin kneaded your ass, groaned into you and pressed you against his groin, where you felt his erection.

You reached your bedroom, and your boyfriend pushed you down, your back hitting the soft mattress. Practically ripping off your panties, Jaemin spread your knees apart, licking a stripe up your pussy. “My pretty girl has such a pretty pussy that’s so so wet for me.” He said, spreading apart your lips. The boy stared in awe at your glistening heat. “It never seizes to fascinate me at how fast you get so wet for me.”

Without warning, he shoved two fingers into your hole, savagely ramming them into you. Nothing left your mouth; nothing could leave your mouth, not even a croak. He hadn’t even actually started to fuck you; it was just with his fingers and your voice was caught in your throat.

“What?” Jaemin stopped. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” you couldn’t respond as you were still trying to catch your breath.

“S-sorry, just feels good.” You managed to choke out, finally getting air back into your lungs. With a satisfied smirk, he re-inserted his fingers, but thrust at a painfully slow speed. “Jaemin, faster.” You whined.

“Ah, ah, ah~ don’t get greedy, pretty girl.” He continued with his pace, curling his fingers up from time to time. “You know how much I hate greedy people.” The boy leaned forward, placing the flat of his tongue against your clit. He moved the muscle quickly, making you cry out in pleasure. Your hands flew to his hair, pulling and running your fingers through it. “You know,” he spoke between licks. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” Jaemin attached his lips to your clit and sucked before letting go of it with a ‘pop’.

“In the studio, when we were recording ‘Make A Wish’;” the thrusts of his fingers slowly increased. “When we were in the practice rooms.” He used his tongue again, swirling it around to lap up all your arousal.

“That’s… sweet.” You choked back on a moan but failed miserably.

The sweet noises you were eliciting from your clit being flicked and abused was enough to get your boyfriend grinding against the bed.

“Oh fuck.” You moved you’re hips to the feeling, needing more, to which he pulled out.

Jaemin left from your core and was now hovering above you. When you met his eyes, forcing you to witness him sucking his fingers that were practically dripping with your wetness. That action alone was enough to make you shake as your first orgasm washed over you.

Jaemin watched this happen, moaning in pleasure and delight; the fact that you came from a simple glace at him turned him on a lot..

“I got so hard that Taeyong sent me home early.” He stated. Jaemin licked his lip before almost closing all the space you had between your faces.

Almost, is the key word.

He stayed hovering, lips three centimeters away from your own. You tried to kiss him, but that made your boyfriend move backwards. When you pouted, he moved back to the same spot, smirking. “Turn around for me, beautiful.”

His tone was deep and full of mischief. It got you kind of worried, but you complied, slowly shifting your body so that your back was to him. Jaemin pressed against your back, making you feel his erection against your ass, as he brought his lips to your shoulder and kissed it lightly.

Suddenly, you felt something sharp in the same place where he kissed you and you hissed, pushing against him. He let out a throaty moan in your ear, more arousal dripping from your heat. He licked, kissed, sucked and bit his way down, littering your back with all sorts of shaped markings. When he reached the small of your back, he stopped.

He pulled away before he started to knead your ass. “You look so good from behind.” You could practically hear the smirk in his cocky tone. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

“Then do it.” You said.

“Patience, pretty girl.” He instructed, going silent for a second, before sending down the palm of his hand against your ass. You yelped in pain, shoving your face into the pillows of your shared bed.

“That’s one.” He grunt before smacking you again. “Two; three;” he continued until he reached ten, your ass stinging. “All done.” He sighed as he brought you back up, gently turning you around so that he could see your tear stained face. “Sorry, pretty girl.” He kissed your closed eyelids.

You shook your head slightly, “It felt good.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled against your forehead. Jaemin brought his pants down, revealing his clothed cock. “Help me out with this one, will you?” the boy asked you once he noticed you were staring down at the darkened spot on his underwear.

Your hand found its way into his boxers, grabbing his dick. Connecting his lips with yours, Jaemin mewled at the feeling of both your lips and your hand on him. Your thumb gently touched the tip, spreading around the precum. Your wrist worked in circular motions, sliding up and down his shaft, making the boy a moaning mess. He bucked his hips in time with your actions, letting out a shaky sigh against you.

“Shit.” Jaemin parted from your lips so he could throw his head back in pleasure. “Fuck, I’m so close.” He whined.

Three more strokes and the deed was done; Jaemin’s cock was twitching in your hand as you let him ride out his orgasm.

“You’re still hard.” You stated, staring at his dick, that was still very hard.

“Didn’t I explicitly tell you how fucking horny I was today?” he glanced at you with a raised brow.

“Oh, right.” You recalled. “Get on with it then.” Jaemin let out a laugh, kissing you once again before moving back on top of you.

Just like he did before with his fingers, Jaemin pushed into you with out warning, leaving you breathless once again. He thrust in and out of you slowly, thoroughly enjoying your pleads to go faster.

“You’re such a good girl.” He growled, placing a finger on your clit, rubbing harsh circles as he pumped in and out of you at a pace that satisfied you. A hand slid up your torso, finding its place around one of your breasts. He squeezed it a bit and played with the nipple, rolling it in between two fingers. “God, I love you.”

Jaemins cock felt so good. It filled all the space available in your pussy and your walls always clenched around him, whether you meant to do it or not.

The boy let go of your tit and pulled your hips impossibly closer to his, leaning in, fucking you faster and deeper than before. He pushed your waist down, squeezing so hard that you were sure to have marks from his nails later. Lowering your eyes ever so slightly, you watched how your boyfriends’ eyes were trained on what was poking out every so often when he plowed back into you. The tips of your fingers traced the area in which he was looking at so intently, making him moan loudly.

“Do you like it when I fuck you hard like this.” He asked, finally connecting your eyes again. “Fuck, I can see where my dick hits you.” You bit your lip and nodded, grabbing at his arm and giving it a light squeeze, letting him know that you were close.

“Do it.” He huffed. “Cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

Jaemin fucked you through your second orgasm, but continued to rail you, like nothing had happened.

“No more.” You whined in protest, clawing at his back as he adjusted his position.

“Haven’t cum.” He remarked.

Twelve minutes more and Jaemin was still at it, fucking you nice and hard.

After a while, the pain and pleasure of cumming for a third time had finally come to an end when his snapping hips had come to a sputtering stop, allowing himself to release inside you. Jaemin bit into your nape as he came, your fingers slowly drawing small patterns on his back. He pulled out, somehow still hard, but at least not fully.

When he rolled off top of you, he brought you into his legs, spreading them open and keeping them that way, using his own legs. Traveling to your cum filled hole, his fingers entered you, slowly pumping in and out. His left hand found itself at your clit, adding more stimulation to your already overstimulated heat.

“Fuck, Jaemin.” You yelped, writhing in his arms.

“We both know what you want, pretty girl.” He spoke in a condescending tone. “So be quiet for me until I give it to you.” He nipped at your earlobe. You complied, moaning instead of a worded answer. “That’s my girl.” You felt him smirk against the skin of your neck.

The motions his fingers were making on your clit soon became bigger and stronger; the fingers in your hole sometimes pulling out to smear his cum on the rest of your pussy, re-inserting themselves afterwards.

The wetness of your pussy and his cum mixing together made the filthiest of noises, but to Jaemin, your moans were all he could hear, sending him into orbit, causing his fingers to move quicker and quicker.

You tried inhaling, but barely any air actually made it into your lungs.

“J-Jae-” you gasped. In your ear was a deep chuckle, meaning Jaemin probably came back to earth when he heard the heavenly noises coming from your pussy.

“Fuck, scream my fucking name.” hands working at the speed of light as you came.

And this time you came hard.

Harder than you have before.

So hard that you squirt, juices leaking everywhere on your sheets.

As you screamed, like Jaemin said, his voice raised too, laughing out in amazement.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” Was all you heard him say before passing out.

[randomshyperson]

Left Behind - Chapter 10 - Atlantis

Gif was made by @abimess aka wifey

Summary: The one where you lived in the apartment under the Maximoff family in Sokovia, or, your journey as a Sokovian civilian to Avenger.

Series Warnings: (+16) Violence, fighting, cursing, civil war environments, abuse of power, assault, torture, underage kissing, psychological torture, substance use, mention of assault/fighting of children, smut, kissing, teasing, insinuation of sexual and moral harassment, verbal offenses.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader || platonic bucky barnes x reader, mentor!natastha romanoff and mentor!steve rogers, bruce banner x reader (friendship), pietro maximoff x reader (friendship).

Words: 3.445K

A/N> I should warn you for the angst in this one i think. Please don't hate the ending of this or the fic. Good reading you all. Also, listen to "Atlantis" by Seafret, i chose the name based on that song.

All Works Masterlist || Read on AO3 || Series Masterlist

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Chapter 10 - Atlantis

You ignore the insinuating look Pietro gives you when he sees you leaving Wanda's room in the morning.

"Not a word." You warn threateningly as he raises his arms in surrender, holding back his laughter.

You turn and go back to your room, trying not to smile like an idiot as you prepare for the mission, and failing miserably.

You try not to think about last night, or the morning after, but the feel of Wanda's lips on your skin is all that comes to mind for the next few hours.

Even during breakfast, where after she stole a kiss on your cheek in the hallway before you guys joined the Avengers, and sat beside you at the table while Steve went over some details to everyone, all you could think about was the last night. In Wanda's taste, her hands inside…

"Stop it." She warns softly at your side. Lower enough so only you can hear, and not to get in the way of the captain's speech. You blink in confusion, and then you understand. Feeling your face heat up, you look at her with a mixture of surprise and indignation.

"You can...?"

"Yes, now eat in silence please." She interrupts in the same tone, equally embarrassed as she keeps her gaze on the plate in front of her.

"Wanda?" You try next. And she mutters under her breath, and then she realizes. She rolls her eyes, and goes back to eating. You smile. "I can't believe you didn't tell me you could hear thoughts."

"It was kind of obvious don't you think?" She retorts mentally. "My whole thing is mind control."

"Your whole thing is to be the love of my life." You tease and she chokes lightly on her coffee, making you hold back a laugh as you gently touch her back. She says she's fine softly, and Steve, who had given her a worried look, goes back to talking about planning for the defenses in Sokovia.

"When this is over, I want to try a few things." You mentally tell her and Wanda looks at you quickly before turning her attention back to Steve. You imitate the movement.

"We'll leave as soon as you finish eating." Steve says already getting up. You suddenly feel anxious.

Wanda notices the way your body has tensed, and looks at you immediately.

"Hey, everything okay?" she asks tenderly. You give her a weak smile, placing your hand on her thigh. Wanda puts her hand on top of yours.

"I'm nervous."

"Me too." She confesses. "But we'll be fine. I got you."

"And I got you."

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As soon as you join the jet with the rest of the Avengers, you could already feel the control serum starting to wear off.

Sighing a little, you don't even have to ask to have Wanda's hand in yours. Her eyes and fingers glow red for a moment as she helps you, before returning to normal. You mumble a thanks, resting your back against the jet's wall.

"Remember what we trained, Avengers." Announces Steve upon entering. "Removing the civilians is the support team's priority, while Clint searches for Natasha. The strike team must deal with Ultron's guards."

"Yes, captain." The team says in understanding, and then the jet is leaving.

It takes ten minutes for Pietro to start teasing you.

"I hear we had a girls night yesterday." Commented the boy out loud, attracting the attention of Bruce and Bucky, who were standing next to you. Wanda glared at her brother.

"Pietro..."

"What is it, sestra? I’m just saying.”He joked. You wondered if you could throw him off the jet from that high. "I heard that this type of activity is a great stress reliever."

You felt your face heat up, and you sank into your seat. In the next second, the rest of the team understood. Clint whistled loudly, and Tony laughed. Bruce blushed and pretended to pay attention to his boots while Bucky giggled at Steve's embarrassed expression.

"Forgive me, I'm not following the reason for the humor in this conversation." Vision commented then.

"Don’t you dare." Wanda warned when he saw Pietro raise his hand to tell Vis what was being said, and the boy laughed before ducking.

Vision watched the interaction with confusion, but it was Tony who threw his arm around him.

"They had sex, champion." Tony announced, making you grunt in embarrassment. "I can't wait for Nat to know, she owes me fifteen bucks”.

“What?” Wanda asks, confused.

"Ah, it's just that before you arrived, the golden eyes there were always talking about you." Tony counts with irony. "How much she loved and missed a certain little witch and her inconvenient brother. So we made a bet that you two would work it out. I said it would happen before you went back to Sokovia, but Natasha thought Y/N was slower and would just work it out after we’re done with Ultron."

"Thanks for the faith, Tony." You mumble awkwardly, adjusting your posture. "Now if you don't mind, can you stop talking about my life?"

The team laughs but the comments about you and Wanda stops. Until you reach Sokovia, you spend your time playing with Wanda fingers as you both lay against each other's shoulders while listening to whenever small talk the Avengers build up.

Things get tense once you reach the country.

Steve signals that you arrive and starts moving around to get read for the jet to land.

You only let go of Wanda’s hand to put your suit on and once you’re done, she’s right in front of you, smiling tenderly as she puts a jacket on.

“Are you good?” She asks.

“Yes. You?”

“Yeah.” She aswerns as she moves forward to kiss you firmly on the mouth. It relaxes your body completely, and you keep your hands on top of hers that are on your face until you break the kiss.

You wish you could care about the teasing looks the team cast to you too, but all you see is Wanda.

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You sat down quickly on the ground, your body against a wall, while trying to get your breathing back to normal.

Wanda was using her powers to get civilians out of their homes, and well, it took some of her magical attention away from you.

It didn't take long for you to be able to detect all the biological life around you again, meters and meters away, quickly feeling overwhelmed.

"How are we?" Steve asked over the communicator, probably already advancing with the rest of the team towards the former Hydra base. You looked up at the sky to get a quick glimpse of Tony flying in his suit before he vanished away.

"All right around here, Captain." Clint responded first followed by the rest of the team.

Your hesitation made Steve specifically call you, but before you could say anything, Wanda was kneeling beside you, one hand on your shoulder and the other on her communicator.

"We are good." She responded before turning her attention to you completely. You felt her magic envelop you quickly, your body relaxing. "How do you feel, dear?"

"Better now." You respond with a smile. "Thanks."

As she helped you to your feet, you noticed her worried expression, and placed a hand on her cheek.

"I'm fine Wanda, I promise."

"Just don't push too far, okay?" She asks. "You can go back to the jet whenever you want."

"I'll be okay, Wanda." You mumble. "Let's get this over with so we can go back to bed." You teases with a mischievous smile, stealing a kiss before walking away, giving her a wink before heading towards the rest of the civilians.

Ultron had better plans than this.

“We need to get everyone out of here immediately.” Tony told through the communicator. “A vibranium bomb. We don’t have time.”

“Working on it, iron boss.” You mock as you helped another family move out of their home. Just like, Pietro had already headed to police stations and hospitals to remove people from there. There was a large crowd of inhabitants heading out of town, but there were still many more.

Peace ended quickly.

Ultron activated the robot army, and they literally began to sprout from the ground.

"Bucky, we're going to need support here pal." Steve warned through the communicator while you were drawing your pistol to prevent one of the robots from advancing on you.

"On my way, cap." The soldier warned. "Just don't tell my therapist."

You and the team laughed lightly as you fought. The whole thing getting bigger and bigger every minute.

Wanda covered for you while you guided people out, but it was becoming untenable.

So, as soon as she tore apart the small group of Ultron’s army that was surrounding you two, you called her.

"You can't keep babysitting me , this is getting too bad." You warned, your voice almost muffled by the length of the fight. The robots flying above you, and Thor and Vision facing them in the sky.

"I won't leave you." She insisted seriously and you swallowed hard.

"Wanda..."

“End of discussion.”

“You are cute and all, it's just that we have a situation here. Mind getting back into the fight?" Natasha's voice interrupted the moment over the radio, sounding amused and teasing. You sighed with relief when you realized she was okay, and you exchanged one last look with Wanda before going back to fighting. “By the way, Tony said I lost the bet.”

“Please don’t bring this back.” You ask Natasha, that just laughs before hanging off, not without teasing you about being proud of you for making a move.

The ground shook beneath your feet, making it difficult for you to keep your balance.

"Guys, what's going on?" You asked through the communicator.

Sokovia is going for a ride.

Friday tells the whole team. You gasp in surprise, looking around.

The ground is breaking apart, and the city is rising into the air. You don't need your powers to know that not all buildings are empty. The debris will end up hurting someone.

And even with all that, the advances of Ultron's army get even worse.

You barely have time to duck before Wanda rips apart a robot that attacked you.

Clint catches up with you two the next second.

"We need to regroup, Tony needs us back there." He warns you. You frown.

"Not a chance, there are civilians all over the place." You say, moving quickly to fire at the machines that have appeared behind you.

"Well, we need the offensive back at the church." He counters. "That's where the bomb is."

"You two go then." You say when you finish shooting. Wanda, who has just destroyed three machines at once, turns to you in indignation.

"No."

But you don't look at her, you look at the blue flash figure approaching.

“Hey Peete, do you mind?” You shouted to him as he stopped next to you two. He nods at you before picking Wanda up, who has no time to complain. He teases Clint "Keep up, old man." before disappearing at high speed, making you laugh.

Clint looks at you.

“Are you sure?”

"It's my job to protect them.”

“The Maximoff or the civilians?” He mocks, making you roll your eyes.

“Go, Barton.”

It doesn't take long for your biological detection to come back.

You think you're going to pass out. But you take a deep breath, and stumble among cars and wrecking machines.

Calm down. You remember Wanda's soft voice in the glass room. The feel of her fingers on your skin. Calm down, I'm here. You can do this.

"I can do this." You mutter to yourself, trying to keep your balance.

You find a horde around the corner, almost close enough to a group of civilians coming out of the municipal hospital.

Ignoring the feeling of being overwhelmed at being able to feel the fear and despair of those people, you advance with the pistol in your hand.

The machines were destroyed, but not by you.

"You took your time, Barnes." You tease with a wry smile, rushing to help the civilians, feeling their superficial wounds before helping them. Bucky smiles and shrugs, a rifle in his hand as he gives you cover to help the population.

"Two minutes out here and I'm already missing my retirement." He comments as he fires, making you laugh, a bit breathless due your powers. Bucky notices right the way. "Are you all right?"

"I'm just considering retiring too after here." You retort by standing up again, helping the little girl who had bruises on her forehead to join the rest of the family. She smiles in thanks, but you're already walking away again, your head pounding from how many people you can feel at once.

You stumble around the rubble to the front of the municipal hospital. Ignoring the memories you have of the whole neighborhood, you try to focus on some group.

"Y/N, I think there are kids coming out of that corner!" Bucky unnecessarily warns you because you've already felt them.

You recognize Church clothes that the adults leading the group wear. They are coming from the Orphanage where you grew up.

You run to catch up to them, and it's the first time you've really noticed Ultron's cruelty. It's a horde that arises, and they notice you right away. The machine in front follows your gaze to the small group, and it has a chance to shoot only you, but it turns its mechanical hand, and aims directly at the kids.

You widen your eyes, feeling your heart race.

"NO!"

Something explodes in your chest. Everything turns golden before returning to normal color. You can’t see the golden wave that reaches the group because there’s a pain in the back of your head that makes you close your eyes tightly.

The robot fired, but if it weren't for the gunshot marks on the robes, no one would know as none of the civilians had any injury. The kids were wide-eyed, and you fell to your knees.

Bucky shot the machines before looking at you in amazement.

"How did you do that? They were practically a street away." He asked in shock, watching the nuns guide the kids to cover quickly, just as in shock as he was. Your lack of response alarmed him and he turned to face you quickly, touching your shoulder. "Y/N, you're bleeding..."

"I know." You grunt weakly, taking a deep breath as you lean on Bucky to get up. "Let 's keep going."

You wiped the blood running from your nose with your hand, but ignored the wet sensation in your ears. Bucky hesitated.

"No, you're not okay." He insisted. "Let's go back..."

"Let go of me, Bucky." You exclaimed angrily, pulling his hands away. "I heal, don't I? I'll be fine. Let's keep going."

"Y/N..."

But you are already walking. You can feel all the injured, and you need to keep going.

You help at least two more groups to shelter, until you're resting your hands on your knees and trying to stay on your foot.

You see your blood dripping to the ground, and you hear Bucky's footsteps approaching, so you wipe your face quickly while disguising the way your head is spinning.

"This isn't working Y/N." He says as he looks around at the wreckage. "These things seem to grow out of the ground, and there's no end to them. The city is too high right now and these people have nowhere to go."

You were going to agree with him, but something in the sky caught your eye.

"I think that's their ride." You say while pointing straight ahead.

It's a gigantic ship, flowing alongside the city. You and Bucky exchange a look, before he uses the communicator to confirm that this was a good thing.

With Shield providing shelter for civilians, you started running to help evacuate people from the floating capital of Sokovia.

Your head was spinning, and your feet were about to give up, but you forced yourself to continue.

Your body is shaking when you turn to help a boy who cut his leg.

"Ty angel, devochka? (are you an angel, lady?)" He asks, scared when you heal him and you give a weak laugh.

"Net, ya Avenger. (no, I’m an Avenger.)"

The wound isn't that big, but it's enough to rob the air of your lungs. Bucky guides the boy with the rest of the group back to the ship, and you can barely stand, your stomach turning.

You force yourself to get up. Just a bit longer.

Lifting your hand to your ear, you call out to Wanda while leaning on the car beside you so you don't fall to the ground.

"Wands?" You say wait for her to respond. She sounds worried when she says your name, but you just sigh. "Babe, when this is over, I'm taking you out on a date. Like the cliches we've never done before, okay?"

"Why are you talking like this?" She asked, scared. You can hear the background noises, the way she was probably keeping the bomb safe but facing Ultron's army. "Where are you?"

"I think we should try Disneyland too. Americans seem to love that." You continue as you begin to walk again. One hand on the tech inside your ear and the other in the wound in your belly, formed while you faced the last horde of robots, not healing anymore. "You would like a candlelight date with wine and music, wouldn’t you?"

"Please tell me where you are, I'll come to you." She begs through the radio and you smile before hanging up.

You saw Clint run further to the town.

You take a deep breath, rushing to catch up. You also see the jet Ultron stole rounding the city towards them, the rifles outside ready to aim.

That's why Clint ran there, to save one of the civilians left behind, you notice as you see the little boy on your friend's arm.

You try to do what you did before. Project your healing magic to them to keep them protected, but as you lift your hands to do that, all you feel is a sharp twinge in the middle of your chest and you almost fall to the ground.

Fine, I'll heal them myself. You think impatiently as you ignore your own limit and run.

You are almost there. But so is Ultron. If you stay up front, you think you can protect Clint and the civilian, you'd heal later, no problem.

“I’m gonna win.”

You widen your eyes in surprise when Pietro whispers in your ear, disappearing in his speed the next moment.

No. Don't do this.

You feel the shots before you hear them. You feel it through Pietro's body, who stepped forward to protect Clint.

You throw yourself forward, desperate.

You reach Pietro the second his heart stops beating.

"Piete?" You call to him as he falls into your lap. You can feel the air disappearing from his lungs, life fading away "Hey buddy, don't do that. Pietro! Please..."

You bury your face in his chest, trying to hear something. Anything. You press your hands against his chest next, then his face.

"Don't die on me, Pietro." You beg with a sob. You force your magic in despair. No matter how much it hurts, Pietro cannot die. He just can't.

You can only remember the skinny little boy running with you in your childhood. Laughing with you on the roof. Teaching you to fight.

Your tears mix up with your blood.

"Captain, we have a problem." Clint announces at your side.

No.

I'm not giving up.

You grunt in pain as you press your hands hard on Pietro's chest, your veins popping with a golden light. You're not dying on me.

Something starts to pulse in your head. Loud enough to completely disorient you. Your eyes are heavy, and you choke on your own blood coming out of your mouth.

You smile because you can feel the air returning to your friend's lungs at the same rate as it leaves yours.

When Pietro breathes again, your eyes close.

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Tag List> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @cristin-rjd

[neonacity]

LUCID | NCT DREAM ‘00 LINE X READER | CH.3

LUCID DREAMS - A TYPE OF DREAM WHEREIN THE PERSON IS AWARE THAT THEY ARE CAUGHT IN A DREAM WORLD.

Summary: It was supposed to be a harmless, professional transaction. You were to tutor a group of boys, get your pay at the end of the day, and go home to your loving fiance. Kids aren’t supposed to be dangerous, right? So why, then, are you caught up in a web of madness that slowly makes you feel like you’re in a living nightmare?

A/N: Third chapter is here! Again, thank you to all those who are supporting the story. Once again, this is a yandere plot featuring NCT Dream ‘00 line which means there will be mature themes in the story as well as obsessive, toxic behavior. If you’re a minor, please refrain from interacting. If this isn’t your thing, then just scroll and skip. In no way am I condoning anything written here— this is not love, this is obsession—nor do I think that any of the people mentioned here will act any way like in this story. This is purely a work of fiction.

Genre: yandere, horror, suspense

TW: abuse, obsessive behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive scenes, stalking, possible kidnapping, mental health. Age gap–though nothing dramatic. Everyone is of legal age. Creepy, creepy, creepy! This will be updated as the story goes along.

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

“Insane madness of the living can be more, more terrible than the bloody hunger of the undead...”

― Silvia Liam

The rules of hunting down prey are simple. First, you observe to take note of their weakness, then you stalk...waiting for the right opportunity to take your shot. Hunting is more often about a game of time than aim sometimes. You jump too soon and you risk scaring your target to a successful escape, or you do it too late that you let them fully slip through your grasp. Hunting... has always been about perfect timing.

"You already know the rules of the game, right boy?"

The frail form of a seven year old child cowered against the foot of a dead tree, eyes shaking as it regarded the man leering at him. The sky was a deep dark velvet above them, and the only source of light came from the full moon that dipped in and out between the passing clouds. A bell dingled from the tight chain strapped around his left ankle when he moved, the sound causing the smile on the man's face twist into a wicked grin.

The hum of a gun being cocked sent the boy to give a choked sob. He shakily tried to stand up from his spot and pressed his palm against the rough bark of the tree to support himself, his wide eyes set on the looming form that has taken a step closer to where he stood.

"It's the first sturgeon moon tonight, so we are going to change the rules a little bit, okay?" Those words only made the child shake harder, the thin shirt he had now clinging to him like second skin due to the cold sweats gripping him.

"You run. And if I catch you, you die," the man cooed as he craned his face a bit to the side, causing the light from the moon to illuminate his features briefly. He looked handsome, inhuman, like he was one of the fallen souls exiled to earth at the beginning of times.

The man moved the arm holding his hunting gun and used it to lift the chin of the boy still cowering in front of him. He smiled—a smile so beautiful and dangerous it can make angels weep.

"But if you die, then your brothers will be the one running in this forest to take your place. So...make sure I don't catch you, hmm?"

Tears finally streamed down the bruised cheeks of the child as he realized what he was up to tonight. Eyes wide with fear, he pushed himself off the tree he was leaning on and started making a run for it.

He could still hear his words even as he dove deep into the woods, the bell on his feet masking his thundering footsteps.

"Seven bullets! You have one minute to hide, son~!"

Gunshots pierced the night air like a wailing scream.

------

Bang!

Jeno lowered his hunting rifle and let go of his breath slowly. Despite the shadows cast by the towering trees surrounding him, his eyes could still clearly see the slight flailing of the fawn he just shot before it went completely still. Above him, a flock of crows looked down on the fallen prey with their beady eyes, as if gauging the best time to dive for their feast.

He slowly picked himself up from his hiding spot, a wide oak tree with overarching branches that hid him from sight. He's been crouched there for a good half hour or so, just waiting for the fawn to finally circle the area. He's been observing it for the past week or so, taking note of its routes, and today he decided to make the kill.

Unlike other hunters, Jeno prefers the thrill that comes with stalking his prey over simply making a successful game. For him, the fun of hunting is in the process and not in its ending—a kill , after all, means nothing if you didn't work hard for it.

He looked down on the small fawn now as it lay lifeless on the mossy forest ground with its glassy eyes still open. Leaning over, he lightly pressed his hand over it to feel its heartbeat just to check if he killed it properly.

It was so beautiful and graceful just prancing in the forest a few days ago….it would be a shame if it suffers now.

"Hey, you got it?" A voice from the edge of the clearing made him look around. Haechan emerged from between the trees, his own hunting rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Yup. What did you get?"

The other boy lifted a brown sack and gave it a light shake.

"Got three rabbits. I'm too lazy to skin them here so I'll just ask Taeyong-hyung to do it. Want to go back now?"

Jeno turned to look back at the fawn in front of him briefly before finally shaking his head. He didn't really want to go back to the mansion yet, so he decided to just throw an excuse to the other for now.

"You go ahead. I'll just skin it right here," he said casually over his shoulder at his brother. Haechan, too cold and too bored to stay another minute in the humid woods, gave a wave of his hand before turning back. Unlike Jeno, he prefers the comforts and luxuries of the manor over anything else.

"I'll go ahead then. Try to get back before nightfall, the forest can be a dangerous place~" he said in a sing-song voice, knowing full well it was a useless warning he just gave.

Jeno simply ignored him and silently pulled his skinning knife from his belt so he could get to work. Nights in the forest have never scared him, he knew it like the back of his hand.

If anything, it is the creatures there who should be terrified of him.

------

You glanced over at Jisung and Chenle who were currently immersed in their readings over the page you’ve been scanning. The sun is about to set in just a few minutes and you have the last session of the day scheduled for the pair before you could pack up and go home. Your lips slightly quirked into a smile as you watched Jisung lean over slightly into the other to silently ask about something, Chenle looking up from his pages to roll his eyes before patiently answering. The two have such different personalities from each other, which adorably and ironically, makes them work so well together.

If you're going to be honest with yourself now, you'd say it is your time with the two youngest that you enjoy the most as Rosewood's tutor. Chenle and Jisung were withdrawn and shy at first, but the pair slowly started warming up to you as time went by. Maybe it's because they are younger, but you prefer the innocent air around them every time you would have your lessons. Chenle is the chattier and the more confident of the two, but with his help, even the shy Jisung also started lightly joking around with you on his best days.

That's not to say that you hate your time with the rest of the brothers. You've only ever had one session with Mark—which went so well as expected from the eldest—while the rest have always been polite and casual. There isn’t really anything about your job and connection with any of the boys that should put you on edge and yet... you have to admit that there are still those rare moments when you just feel as if something is out of place. You couldn't really place your finger on it, nor have you blatantly caught anything suspicious, but sometimes you just feel odd whenever you are around any of the four middle children. It’s something similar to being watched...like there is an imaginary pair of eyes always pinned to the back of your head, or the ghost feeling of hands hovering around your throat.

Your eyes flickered now to the grand clock on the far side of the room which finally struck five. Closing your own book which you have been scouring over, you called out towards the two who quickly looked up from their work.

"Alright, time's up. Have you answered the first two questions at least?" You asked with a smile. Chenle groaned and pointed at Jisung accusingly.

"I only got three questions because he kept disturbing me, noona."

Jisung frowned and you had to keep your laugh back with how offended he looked.

"Hey, I wasn't disturbing you. I was just asking questions."

"Okay, okay. Don't fight now. Do you want an extension for the chapter quiz? We do have our next lesson the day after tomorrow."

Their faces simultaneously lit up.

"Can we do that?" Chenle asked.

"Yes, but I'll have to leave you the assignment of reading another chapter and finishing the questionnaire for that as well. That'll be your homework, okay?" You tried your best to put on your best impression of a stern look, which only made the two giggle.

"Okay, noona."

"You promise you'll do it?"

Jisung put up his right hand and placed his left one over his heart.

"We promise."

That made you chuckle. "Well then, that will be all for today. I'll see you again tomorrow, okay? I'll have lessons with your brothers but just come to me if you have any questions." You gathered the rest of the papers that you have sprawled on the desk you were using before waving the two goodbye.

You were in the middle of trying to fit in a rather stubborn pile of files on your bag that you didn't really notice the tall figure that entered from the front door. When you finally looked up, it was already too late for you to stop crashing straight first into someone's chest, if not for the strong hands that held you steady. You felt an arm settle on your waist, and another on your back as you almost toppled when you hastily stepped back.

"Oh! I am so sorr—" you looked up with wide eyes to see Jeno looking down on you. Your words died in your throat when your eyes caught the red stain on his neck and you gasped.

"Jeno, what happened?!" Your voice raised in panic as you stared wide eyed at the blood running down the side of his neck. He gave you a slight look of confusion before raising a hand to touch the area you've been staring at.

"Ah… this…"

You didn't wait for him to finish. Quickly, you grabbed his hand and turned on your heels to drag him to the opposite direction. You didn't look back to see his surprised expression, and before he could even say anything, you had already pushed him into one of the expansive bathrooms down the nearest hallway.

"Sit there."

You pushed him urgently on the closed toilet seat before you proceeded to rummage on the hidden compartment behind the mirror that Taeyong showed you before. You quickly grabbed the box of first aid kit there and hastily opened an antiseptic wipe.

"Uhm...noona…"

You didn't pay him any attention, too focused on what you needed to do. You quickly kneeled in front of him so that you were more eye-level with each other before finally pressing the damp wipe against his injury.

"Shh. This might sting a little. We have to see how deep your wound is and stop the bleeding," you said, a small frown creasing your brows as your fingers gently dabbed at his skin. You were so focused on what you were doing that you didn't notice the light in his eyes shift as he looked at you closely. 

His gaze dropped to your slightly parted lips, then at the look of concentration on your features.

Are you...worried about him?

Your frown deepened as you finally managed to wipe most of the blood away from his skin. The antiseptic sheet you were using has already turned dark red from the liquid, but still you haven't—

"It's not my blood," Jeno said plainly, his voice suddenly sounding too close to you. You looked up to him in confusion, and for the first time you realized how close the two of you were. His gaze didn't waver from your face, pinning you into the spot where you are kneeling in front of him.

"Not your…"

"I was hunting. I was skinning the game I caught but my hand slipped and I hit a major vein. This is deer blood."

If your face wasn't burning after realizing how close the two of you were at the moment, it is definitely on fire now. You opened your mouth to say something, then closed it again in embarrassment. Jeno continued staring at you and you watched as his lips ever so slightly curled into a smirk.

That made you suddenly stand up from your crouch. He calmly followed you with his gaze, a mix of curiosity and amusement in his brown eyes.

"I-I'm so sorry. I thought you were injured so I panicked," you stuttered as your eyes fell on the bloody wipe that is still on your hands. You quickly ducked to throw it away just so you could avoid his gaze.

Jeno followed your every move closely before slightly leaning his head to the side. He seems to be mulling over something, face now devoid of any telling emotions.

"Were you concerned about me?" He asked, tone curious. You glanced at him in surprise, stunned that he would ask such a question. It was bad enough that you stumbled over your words when you finally managed a reply.

"Of course I was concerned. Anyone would be."

Jeno slowly stood up from where he sat and for the first time, you realized just how much he towered over you. It didn't help that the two of you were in a much smaller space than usual which sent a wave of claustrophobia to wash you over briefly. You involuntarily took a step back, eyes only high enough to meet the base of his neck.

"Why though?" He asked again, and you could genuinely hear the curiosity in his tone. You frowned. He was asking...as if he isn't used to such a level of care. As if things like this are so foreign to him.

"Because you are my student. And I wouldn't want to see anyone hurt."

For a moment, Jeno didn't say anything else. He simply looked at you while you tried so hard not to flinch under his heavy gaze.

Then, as if a switch had been turned, he took a step to the side to free some space between the two of you. Your eyes shot to his face when he did that, and you were met by his boyish smile that crinkled his eyes into half moons.

That made you blink. You see it on him whenever he is with the rest of his brothers, but it was the first time he ever smiled that way to you.

"Thank you, noona. I appreciate it."

It was as if a blockage in your throat dissolved all of a sudden. You smiled back, a sense of relief overtaking you.

"Don't worry about it. I'm sorry I panicked, too."

"It's cute. Nobody has ever…" he trailed off before shrugging. "I guess, it's because we're all men here. So none of us are used to that kind of care."

You nodded slowly at that. It really must be hard...being in this kind of household. Now that you think about it, the boys are technically orphans.

"Anyway, I have to go. I need to get back before dark. I'm not really a big fan of night drives," you said as you picked up the bag you had haphazardly thrown into the sink in your panic earlier. Jeno simply watched you silently from where he stood.

"Make sure to be careful next time alright? Don't give anyone a heart attack again," you smiled before finally excusing yourself out. He smiled back and gave a nod of goodbye as you closed the door.

Jeno turned to the mirror in front of him and slowly touched the part of his neck where your fingers grazed earlier. It was cold now from the antiseptic you had rubbed, but he could still remember how good the warmth of your touch felt against his skin when you were trying to wash the blood away. He curled his fingers slightly over the area now, leaving half moon marks as his nails dug there.

Oh what he would do to have you touch him again.

-------

"Pretty neat, huh?" You grinned at Jaehyun as he parked the car in front of the manor. You watched as your boyfriend's eyes moved over the impressive facade of the structure in front of him, knowing full well that his architect training is kicking in.

"Not bad. Victorian-era, probably. The stones look old but the place looks pretty well-kept…"

You grinned to yourself now as you leaned back on your seat. Of course you have absolutely no reason to be proud of something you don't own, but you can't help but boast a little at your boyfriend. It is your workplace after all.

Jaehyun turned to his seat now to give you a slightly guilty smile. He sighed before reaching out for your hand.

"Are you sure you will be okay though? I'm sorry about borrowing your car all of a sudden, the timing is just so bad."

You gave his hand a squeeze before patting it with your other. He was supposed to go on a three day business trip away from the city when his car, all of a sudden, just wouldn't start this morning. He wouldn't make it if he waits for the shop to fix it so the both of you decided to just have him use yours for now. At least he has enough time to drive you to work, which is why the two of you now are parked outside the manor, 10 minutes before your first lesson has to start.

"Don't worry about it. I'll make sure to pick up your car later. I'll have the taxi drive me there."

Jaehyun glanced back at the mansion briefly.

"Are you sure you can get a taxi here though? This is pretty far off the main road…"

Well...to be honest, you weren't even really sure about that yourself but he didn't have to worry about it right now. You nodded and reached over for your bag with a smile.

"Yes. Or I'll just ask Taeyong for help if I can't get one. I'm pretty sure they have some taxi companies in contact."

Jaehyun still didn't look convinced but gave you a small nod nevertheless. His eyes were back to studying the house again which made you chuckle.

"Jae, I'll be fine. You have to go now or you'll be late to your conference. Thanks for driving me here," picking up the last of your things, you leaned over to give him a quick peck on the cheeks. He responded by pulling you over for a slightly longer kiss when you tried to move away.

"Yah, Jung Jaehyun. We'll both be late if you don't stop," you whispered softly with an amused tone. He laughed before finally letting you pull back.

"Just getting my fill of it since I won't see you in three days. Call me once you get home later, okay?"

"Mmn. Take care, too. Go get that deal closed," you gave him a wink before finally opening the passenger seat. You watched as he finally pulled away from the driveway and waited until he disappeared again on the long winding road before turning towards the manor again. You were almost at the front steps when the doors finally opened, spilling Haechan, Renjun, and Jaemin out of them. You frowned slightly as you took notice of the canvases they were carrying as you approached the group.

"Hey...are you going somewhere? Class is about to start." You asked curiously, eyes landing finally on the small leather bag that Renjun was carrying. It seems to be full of art supplies.

"We're doing a free art class today, right noona?" The eldest of the trio asked. You nodded, still a bit confused.

"Renjun suggested we do it in the garden since the weather is nice today," Jaemin finally said. "We think it'll be a nice change from the stuffy rooms inside," he slightly jerked his head back at the wide windows of the manor which are currently shut back with thick curtains. You glanced at them briefly too before nodding slowly in understanding.

"Oh… I mean… It's not a bad idea. We can have the first session outside while the sun is still bearable, I guess."

That made Jaemin, and most especially Renjun smile. The boy can be withdrawn most of the time, but you did notice that he looks happiest whenever you do creative classes.

"Thank you, noona."

"No problem. I'll just put my bag inside and then I'll follow you. Why don't you set up your things first?"

You've taken a couple of steps towards the front door already when Haechan suddenly spoke up.

"Who was with you, noona?"

That froze you on your tracks. Slowly, you turned to face the trio again. They saw Jaehyun drive off?

"Oh, that was my boyfriend. He dropped me off today," you said casually with a smile. Haechan leaned his head a little bit to the side in curiosity.

"But he took your car…"

"Yes, he did. His broke down so he had to borrow mine. He's leaving for a three-day trip so—" you stopped all of a sudden, realizing that you're explaining things too much. There's nothing wrong about what you said but there was still a part of you that made you feel a little...exposed. Jaemin, Haechan, and Renjun, fortunately, didn't seem to notice and continued to politely look at you.

"Anyway, I'll just grab a cab to go home," you continued with a smile. "There are some who stop by here, right?"

"Yes. Or we can just ask Taeyong-hyung to drive you. He is the only one who has a license among us," Jaemin offered with a casual shrug.

"Ah, maybe I'll have to bother him this one time if I can't get a cab," you said with a sheepish smile. "Okay, I do have to bring my things inside. I'll see you."

You have already reached the top of the steps before the double doors when you finally realized something. Quickly you turned to the three boys who were just about to disappear to the side of the house leading to the manicured gardens.

"Wait, where's Jeno?"

It was Jaemin who answered.

"Oh yeah. He can't come. He is on bed rest."

You frowned.

"What happened?"

Haechan snickered which caused Renjun to shoot him a reprimanding look.

"He got into a hunting accident," the boy explained as he barely tried to keep his lips from twitching with amusement. "He was foolish enough to get stabbed in the chest by a stag."

-----

You gave the oak wood door a few light taps before drawing your hand back to yourself. You still weren't sure if this is a good idea, and yet here you are standing outside Jeno's room, the expansive hallway making you feel too small and out of place. This is the first time you've been in this part of the mansion since you only ever roamed the lower floors for your classes, and you couldn't help but feel a little strange at the heaviness of the air clinging around you now.

Maybe it's because it is where the private quarters of the boys are, but the corridor was only slightly illuminated by dimmed lighting from the lamps on the walls. Everything was silent, and for a moment you wondered if you got the wrong door that Taeyong gave directions to when you told him you wanted to check on Jeno. You have already taken a step back and was about to turn away when you heard some rustling from inside the room. It was followed by a voice muffled by the thick wood separating you from the other side of the door.

"Come in."

You froze on your spot for a few seconds before finally managing to shake yourself to open the door before you slowly. Peering around it, the first thing you noticed was how big the room was—it looked more like a smaller section of a house than a private quarters. It was dark, but a quick look at it told you that it was mostly bare if you don't count the essentials, which is a simple desk by the side, a long couch, and, in the middle, a four poster bed.

Your eyes landed on Jeno who was looking at you with equal mild surprise. He was propped against the headboard of his bed, the light from the laptop on his lap illuminating his face. You noticed that he didn't have a shirt on, but most of his skin from the right shoulder down to his chest was covered by bandages.

"Hi," you smiled, suddenly feeling conscious now as you stepped into his room.

"Um. Hi. What are you…"

"I heard that you were injured so I just dropped by to check on you," you quickly answered to diffuse any awkwardness that is in danger of settling between the two of you. Jeno blinked, as if processing what you just said.

"Uh… sorry, I didn't realize that I might be disturbing you. I can also just go back another time and—"

"No," He said all of a sudden before you could excuse yourself. Quickly, he closed his laptop and put it away on his side. "You can stay for a bit."

"Oh...great. I uh…" your eyes roamed around his room once again, hoping to find a chair that is closer to his bed. There was none. You figured the couch was the only place you could go to so you started walking towards it, Jeno's eyes on you.

"You can sit here," he suddenly said and you looked up to see him pointing at the foot of his bed. That made you stop before glancing again at the couch at the farther side of his room, something which he immediately noticed.

"It's too far away. It'll be awkward for us to talk if you sit there,” he said, as if he read your mind. 

That...makes sense. With a slight nod, you closed the distance between you and the bed instead and chose to sit by its far end.

Jeno was back to watching you as you settled down, his expression curious. You softly cleared your throat.

"How are you feeling?"

He glanced down his chest briefly. "Oh, I'm fine. It didn't hurt as much during the weekend, but I was still told to stay in bed. I can't really move that much yet."

"What happened anyway?"

He scratched the back of his head almost sheepishly and looked away.

"I was trying to hunt a deer. I didn't know its mate was just around the area when I approached it so...yeah."

You winced as your eyes fell on his bandaged chest. You know next to nothing about hunting, but you know enough that an angry stag doesn't spell good news for anyone. Things could have been more serious for him.

"Are you sure that you shouldn't be in the hospital though?"

"Yes. We have a private doctor anyway. I just need to make sure I don't move too much to keep my wound from opening. And I also hate hospitals so I prefer to stay here…"

"You have to be more careful next time, okay Jeno? The forest is such a dangerous place…" you sighed before shifting your attention towards the window at the far wall of his room. He only had his curtains partially open but you could still see a sliver of the woods from where you sat.

Something about what you said shifted something in him. You missed it entirely thanks to the shadows from the room's dim lighting that masked his features, but it was there, hiding in plain sight.

"You take care of us so well."

You turned to him again as you heard him whisper something.

"What?"

Jeno simply smiled. He leaned back against the headboard, as if mulling over something.

"Since noona is worried about me, can you help me change my bandages?"

You blinked. That wasn't something you expected him to ask at all. Before, you figured Jeno to be one of the more withdrawn among the brothers, always with this air of intimidation about him, but lately, he has been throwing you off with these kinds of moments. He isn't flirty like Jaemin or sly and playful like Haechan, but he’s just so...direct. Almost pushy, sometimes. 

"I uhm… I don't know. I wouldn't know how to do it, maybe I can call someone and—"

You watched as he already started to undo the bandages on his torso, your eyes growing wide as he started to expose more skin.

"Jeno wait, I think we should call Taeyong for thi—oh my god."

Your words were cut off when he finally let the last of the bandages fall to reveal the cut on his torso. It started from his right chest, a few inches above the collarbone, and ran sideways to the middle where it cut off. Stitches held the skin together, and you could see the darkening sides of the flesh where it broke.

Yet it wasn't only that which caught your attention. Despite the dimness of the room, you could see other marks in his body, old scars that adorned his pale skin here and there. They varied in length and thickness, and you couldn't figure out what might have caused them. Were they from hunting accidents too…?

You immediately turned to look away. You didn't want to seem rude for staring. Jeno, however, seemed unbothered, if not mildly amused. Watching you through hooded eyes, he let you squirm for a little bit first before finally calling for your attention once more.

"Noona."

"Yes?"

"Help me, please?"

The tone he used on you finally made you turn with a slight wince, which only made him chuckle.

"You're not used to seeing injuries?"

"I'm not fond of them. I don't think anyone is."

“So let's get this over with then. I just need you to hold one side of the bandage for me while I wrap it again. It's hard when I do it alone."

You were about to open your mouth to say something again but chose to purse your lips after in the end. With a soft sigh, you finally picked yourself up from your spot by the foot of the bed to move closer to him. Jeno had already uncapped what looked to be a bottle of antiseptic at this point and had started to dab gently at his cut. You tried to watch without wincing too much as he tried to do the job, but it was probably too painful for him to move too much because he was missing a lot of it.

"Hey, just give me that. I'll do it," you asked as you gently took the cotton pad from him. Jeno wordlessly let you take it, eyes closely watching you as you ducked a little to clean his wound. You tried your best to keep your eyes on target, not allowing them to move anywhere else…

"It looks so bad… I'm surprised you can still move…" you whispered, more to yourself than to him as you frowned over it. You completely missed the way the corners of Jeno's lips ever so slightly tilted as your fingers brushed against his skin.

"Your fiance must have never gotten injured before, noona."

Your hand froze at what he said. Slowly, you looked up at him, only to see him smile at you.

"How did you…"

"Oh, Taeyong-hyung told us. He just reminded us to be nice to you or else you might quit. He said you are saving up for your wedding."

You didn't say anything at first after his explanation. There's nothing wrong about it, and it seems very in-character for Taeyong to say that since he seems to be the most worried about the possibility of you quitting. Still, you couldn't help the odd feeling that tugged at your chest, one you tried to shove back as you turned your attention again to what you were doing just so you could escape Jeno's gaze.

"Well… yes. I am saving up for it. But I also enjoy my time here… so far…"

Jeno smiled to himself as he looked down on you, eyes watching your every move.

"We'll behave too, we promise," he said softly that you almost didn't catch it.

"Until then, I'm sure your boyfriend wouldn't mind us borrowing you from him."  

----

"Jisung! Chenle! Don't run too far into the forest, okay?" Taeyong called out to the two boys who have already turned on their tails and have started running towards the woods. You watched as the two laughed and pushed at each other playfully before finally disappearing into the forest edge.

Taeyong sighed beside you and let the hands he had on his hips fall to his sides. You turned to him and he gave you an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry for suddenly asking you to watch over them. I totally forgot that I had to drive the rest to their dentist appointment today," he said with a scratch of his head. You simply shook a hand at him to wave him off.

"Don't worry about it. I don't have any other classes today anyway so I'll just wait here for them. But... uh... are you sure that it is safe for them to play there?"

"Yes. As long as they stay in the right zones. There are parts there where some wild animals might roam around this season but Jisung and Chenle already know that, don't worry. It won't be the first time they'll be going there too. They've been playing there since they were kids."

You nodded slowly, still a little bit unsure as your gaze floated over to the woods once more. If it were you, you wouldn't let them go near it, especially after what happened to Jeno.

"I'll have to go then. I promise I'll be back by 5. Then I can drive you back to town after."

You turned to look at Taeyong once more and gave him a grateful smile. You usually would have declined the offer under normal circumstances, but you honestly think it will be easier and safer for you to just have him take you back later.

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

The other nodded before giving you one last smile. Turning around, you watched him go to the car where Haechan, Renjun, and Jaemin were already waiting. Jeno was still in bed rest, so he is skipping the impromptu trip this time.

You only turned back to look at the woods ahead when you finally saw the black sedan disappear down the road. The forest looked foreboding in front of you, one look at it and you know there is no way you'll venture there in your own free will. With a sigh, you picked up the book you've brought with you and let yourself take a seat by the grass as you wait for Jisung and Chenle to return.

A sudden sharp caw that tore the air made you look up in surprise from the current chapter you were reading. You didn't have any idea how much time had already passed after you lost yourself in your book, but you were surprised to see that the sky had gone red over the horizon as a flock of crows soared from the depths of the forest. You watched as they circled just above the trees before finally disappearing far into the sky. That was when you realized it; it's been a while since Jisung and Chenle left.

With panic slowly creeping into your chest, you glanced at your watch then back at the mansion behind you. Taeyong didn't say anything about a curfew for the two kids, but your own sense told you that the pair should be back before night falls. Your gut told you that you should start looking for them, but the problem is that there is still more than half an hour left before Taeyong said they will return and the only other person left in the manor was Jeno—who can't even get out of bed. 

You swallowed. Before you could make any decision, however, a bone-chilling sound floated into the air that made your blood turn cold. It was faint at first, making you wonder if it was just your imagination playing tricks on you, but then it called out again, and you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

It was Chenle. Screaming.

You broke into a run without a second thought.

It took you everything you have not to topple over the uneven forest floor as you wove through the trees. You have no idea where you were going, your mind and vision reeling as you tried to follow the voice. Your skirt have caught countless times on shrubberies and wayward tree barks as you tore through the woods but you kept going, not minding the tears on the fabric and the skin of your legs.

"Chenle! Jisung! Where are you!"

You called out desperately when the cries suddenly stopped. You were only barely aware of your heart thundering in your chest and your lungs burning from overexertion.

No. No. Don't stop screaming. I can't find you if you do.

"Chenle! Jisung!" You called out again desperately as you stopped at the edge of what seemed to be a small patch of land that dropped off to a ravine. The trees beyond were denser than the ones at the edge of the forest and the already fading light of the day wasn't helping the thick canopies above you that rained shadows on where you stood. You looked around and swallowed thickly. Something inside of you told you to turn around and run again but you stayed frozen on your spot, waiting for any sound from the kids.

It took you a few more heartbeats to pick up something again. Jisung's voice sounded far off to your right, maybe about 15 meters from where you currently are.

"Noona! Help! Chenle fell down!"

Your adrenaline jumped into action again.

"Jisung?! Jisung! Wait—Is Chenle with you?” A soft voice called out and you breathed in as you recognized the latter's tone. “I'm coming! Don't stop calling for me, okay, so I can find you!"

You were about to turn away from the edge of the steep ravine you were still standing on when you felt your back hit something hard. Before you could even turn around to look at it, however, a blunt force hitting the middle of your shoulder blades sent you toppling forward, straight into the sharp fall beyond.

You screamed, before everything went quiet as your head hit the bedrock below.

---

A.N. GOD THIS WAS SO LONG IM SO GLAD IT IS FINALLY DONE.

Taglist:  @negincho,  @jhornytrash, @jaeminhyuckiii, @jungwoosswhore, @jsturkey​, @aj--7, @pukupukupawpau​, @tomiesgirlfren​, @vsszn

CHAPTER 4

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Hayloft p.4

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though), alcoholism/ drunkenness, mentions of teen pregnancy, mentions of infidelity, murder

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Pretty lightly edited, just a warning

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1  Part 2 Part 3

“Hey, hun, what can I getcha?” You leaned into your popped hip, pen and notepad in hand.

A man you hadn’t met before, clearly someone just passing through town, was sitting across the diner bar in a light blue button-up and suspenders. He was fairly clean cut save for the day-old scruff across his face. He studied the menu intensely before setting it down and looking up at you with a sweet-as-pie smile. “Can I please have coffee with some cream and the grits?” He asked with a southern drawl.

You scribbled down his order on the notepad, “That all?”

“Mhm, I think so. Thanks doll.” He slid the menu towards you before reaching for a newspaper that had been left on the counter beside him by the last patron. You turned around to pin the man’s order on the little turnstile for the chef when the little bell on the door rang.

Tucking your notepad back into the apron tied around your waist, you grabbed the pot of coffee from the counter and poured the man a cup of the rich black liquid. Next, you prepared a little ceramic cup of cream and walked back to set them on the counter in front of him. His polite thanks were only the background when you saw Arvin walk behind the man and shoot you a smile before settling down in a seat at the bar only a few seats away.

You walked over to him and leaned on the counter with a smile, “Well, hey there stranger. You on lunch already?”

Arvin nodded, looking to you hopefully, “Yeah ‘n I was hopin’ you might be too so I could grab a bite to eat with my favorite girl.”

“Shh!” You hushed him with exasperated wide eyes, like it should have been obvious that he needed to keep his voice down, because in your mind it was. You nodded your head to the other patrons in the diner. “Y’know word travels fast in little towns like this ‘n I don’t need my daddy findin’ out ‘bout us,” you whispered to Arvin who sighed in annoyed understanding. You knew he wasn’t annoyed at you but the situation was less than ideal.

He tapped his fingers on the counter and his knees bounced under the bar, “So is that a no for lunch?”

You glanced over your shoulder to look at the clock that hung on the wall. It was only eleven in the morning but maybe you could ask Charlene if she could cover so you could take an early lunch. “Let me double check real quick.” You held up a finger to excuse yourself into the back to find your coworker.

No more than ten minutes later, you and Arvin walked out to his car with two take-out boxes of burgers you had managed to swipe from the kitchen in hand. He slid into the driver’s seat while you planted yourself beside him in the passenger’s. You handed him one of the boxes of food before opening your own and

digging into the small handful of fries. “So how is your day going so far?”

Arvin took a large bite of his burger, covering his mouth with his hand has he tried to speak and chew at the same time, “Ain’t too bad. I got an engine to rebuild for an old Ford when I get back but nothin’ too terrible. How ‘bout you?”

“Ready to go home already,” you chuckled, popping a fry in your mouth, “But it ain’t too bad here either. Just would like to not be here.”

Arvin laughed a little beside you, “I know how that feels. Thanks for the burgers by the way. I appreciate it. I don’t want you gettin’ in no trouble for stealin’ food.”

You shrugged off his concern, “Don’t worry ‘bout it. If people don’t eat it, it just goes in the trash anyways. I ain’t gonna get in any trouble.”

He let out a heavy breath, resigning to your insistence, which he really just found an adorable confident stubbornness. A comfortable silence fell over the unmoving car as the two of you ate your lunches in the parking lot. When you finished chewing your bite, you looked over at Arvin, “How long you been livin’ with us?”

Arvin looked up at the brick wall straight ahead in thought, “Maybe five months now. Longer than I meant to-"

"I didn't mean it like that! I was just wonderin'...." you got awkwardly quiet for a moment, "Havin' you 'round has been the best five months in a really really long time."

"For me too. When I came into town, I thought I'd be livin' in my car. Didn't know how lucky I'd be gettin' to live with the most beautiful girl in the world." His hand reached over to your thigh, squeezing lightly.

Even after all of his sweet affections and compliments, they never failed to make your cheeks ache from trying not to blush and smile like a schoolgirl. “You really think flattery will get you somewhere?” you giggled teasingly, turning towards him and nudging his leg with your hand.

“Well it got me in your house so…” He teased back, something that he had been doing more often in the last few weeks. Arvin had never been the most humorous of people, aside from the occasional chuckle or hidden smile. That had been changing since the two of you had gotten closer though.

“Uh, no! It might get you kicked outta my house though if my daddy ever finds out.” It started as chuckle but the words faded into concerned worry as you realized how true they could really be.

Arvin sensed the shift, “You really think your daddy would kick me out if he found out ‘bout us?”

You nodded, “Without a doubt. Would probably throw me out too.” You shifted so you were sitting on your bent leg, suddenly uncomfortable.

He began cautiously, “I mean… would that really be such a bad thing?”

You whipped your head to look at him, “I ain’t got nowhere else to live right now. I been savin’ up for a year to move out but it ain’t enough to buy a place of my own yet.”

“How much you got?”

That number was in your head immediately, one that you kept a running total of with every paycheck. “$4,317.” It wasn’t enough, though, and you knew it. Even the old run down houses around town cost $12,000, which meant you weren’t even halfway to the fixer-uppers, not that you minded buying a fixer upper. “I don’t need a mansion or nothin’ but it ain’t nearly enough for even something small.”

Arvin chewed his lip, thinking about the box of cash he’d been stashing away with each of his paychecks as well. He knew exactly what it was like in your position, struggling to save up the money to get on your own feet. He hated relying on others and, even though he really liked you, he hated depending on your and your father for shelter. “You ain’t gonna be stuck in this ol’ town forever,” he promised you and it came out just like that. A promise. “You’re too good for this place.”

Another smile forced its way onto your face at his words of hope, “I’ll get outta here eventually…”

Suddenly, a familiar male voice yelled your name and you flinched. You turned towards the voice to see your boss, Harold, standing at the backdoor of the diner with his hands on his hips. He gave you a stern look and tapped the watch on his wrist before pointing at you then jabbing his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

“Shit! I totally lost track of time!” You scrambled to gather up the trash from lunch and stuffed it into the paper bag you’d brought it out in. “I’m sorry, I have to run!”

Arvin had nearly jumped out of his skin when your name had been yelled, the only person he’d ever heard calling you that way being your father. He crumbled up the paper wrapper for his burger and stuffed it in the paper bag for you. “‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to get you in trouble with your boss.”

“Nah, he’s fine,” you waved off the worry dismissively, “He acts all tough but he ain’t nothin’ but a softy.” You opened up the door and began to slide out when you stopped and took a quick glance around. Nobody was in the parking lot, or really anywhere in sight for that matter. In an impulsive swift action, you grabbed Arvin by the collar of his greasy shirt and pulled his lips to yours quickly before pushing him before anyone could see.

He looked stunned, big brown eyes wide and shocked by your courageous kiss. Your heart raced and your cheeks flushed with the exhilaration of actually sneaking a kiss to Arvin in public. It was a dangerous move but your dad was at work and there was nobody else around to see. You tried to hide your excited smile by chewing your bottom lip but it didn’t work. “Thanks for lunch, Arv.”

“Uh - y-yeah. Thank you for the burger.” Arvin stumbled over his words while you slid out of the car and closed the door behind you, leaving the poor boy struggling to make his brain catch up to reality.

“See you at home!” You waved one last time before turning. Arvin watched as you jogged back to the entrance of the diner, your little dress bouncing with every movement. You turned to give him one last glance before you disappeared behind the door.

Work had passed rather uneventfully for you. You put in the last few hours of your shift, went to the grocery store, and then headed home to start on dinner.

Arvin, on the other hand, the rest of his day at work had shaken the good feeling he’d had since his lunch break with you. He had found himself with a wrench in hand, trying to bolt back in the engine he’d been rebuilding for the last few hours. Grease smeared across his shirt, pants, and face despite how hard he tried to keep his dirty hands from ruining his clothes. Even if they were work clothes, he didn’t have that many sets of outfits nor the money to go out and buy more.

“My cousin lives o’er there with his wife. Said the sheriff up and disappeared for a while but they found him dead in the woods.”

Arvin’s head nearly hit the hood of the car that was propped up when he heard those words. He looked over his shoulder to see Davis and Fred, two of the other guys that worked at the mechanics shop, talking over two cans of beer.

“You hear anythin’ ‘bout that, Arvin?” Davis asked, sipping his can.

Arvin’s heart twisted in panic but he shook his head like hadn’t heard what they were talking about, “Hear ‘bout what?”

“Few months back, the sheriff in my cousin’s hometown turned up dead. Someone shot ‘im in the woods outside o’ some small town nearby. His name was like Lodeck or Bodecker or somethin’ like that.” Davis explained the story to both of the guys.

“Eh, pro’lly had it comin’,” Your dad came entered from the storage room with a handful of bolts, “I know I’ve met some sheriffs that deserved a bullet between the eyes.”

Fred rolled his eyes, “Yeah well you’re an angry drunk so I’m sure you’d say that ‘bout anyone who took a drink from you. I’m sure this guy wasn’t that bad. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? This ain’t no wild west movie where you go gunnin’ down the law.”

“Nah, I heard he was a no good son o’ a bitch. Guess his sister and her husband got murdered the day before. Found tons of pictures o’ them kissin’ on some dead guys. Some real sick shit, Fred. Sheriff might have been in on it too. Regardless, my cousin said he ran into ‘im one time with his wife and the sheriff really was a bastard,'' Davis shrugged off Fred’s comment, refuting the tragedy Fred was trying to make Bodecker’s death by tarnishing his name.

Arvin’s heart was racing and he began to feel dizzy. The images of those few days had haunted him since they had happened but he had found himself thinking about it less and less as the days passed.

“Arvin?”

Arvin shook his head out of the clouds and snapped back into reality, “What?”

“You came into town ‘round the same time all this happened. Did you hear anythin’ about it?” Fred questioned, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans.

The young man just shook his head, “Nah, I ain’t heard nothin’ ‘bout it till now. I heard ‘bout the sister though. Sounds like she and her boyfriend were no good.”

“You know what I think?” Your dad began, picking up a wrench and pointing it in Arvin’s direction, “I think our man Arvin here did the sheriff in!”

Arvin stiffened up, “What? Why would you think that?”

“You come strollin’ along through town with nothin’ but a backpack and no backstory ‘bout the same time four people turn up murdered. Mighty suspicious.” Arvin tried his hardest to stand tall and not allow his fear to show but the tension in his jaw was bordering of painful now.

Davis swatted at your dad, “C’mon, leave the boy alone. There’s gotta be thousands of people in that area that coulda murdered them. Can’t imagine Arvin doin’ such a thing.”

Arvin was grateful for Davis’s trust. If only he deserved it.

“I’m only jokin’! Y’all a bunch of whiny little girls, can’t take a fuckin’ joke.” Your dad grumbled to himself, swatting his hand towards his coworkers.

“Ah, shut up.” Fred stood up from the table he’d been sitting at and laid back down on the dolley before sliding under the jacked up Chevy he had been tasked with. “Ain’t nobody ‘round here takes you seriously.”

Arvin watched as your dad walked past Fred, kicking him in the leg and earning a loud exclamation of annoyance, but it was as if he were disconnected from the whole scene. He had tried so hard to forget what had happened back in Knockemstiff and Coal Creek, though it seemed damn near impossible considering it had uprooted his entire life. This tiny town a few hours away was his safe haven, his new beginning. He never would have imagined that anyone this far away would have heard about the murders.

Hearing Davis and Fred bring up Bodecker’s name made Arvin’s blood turn to ice in his veins. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? Fred’s words played over and over in Arvin’s head. This was just what he was worried about. This was why he ran. Nobody would believe Bodecker was trying to kill him first. Self defense didn’t mean shit when it was against the law. The same with Reverend Teagarden. A man of the word? Arvin didn’t stand a chance if anyone found out what he’d done.

“Hey son,” Davis’s soft voice made Arvin nearly jump out of his skin, “Don’t take nothin’ that ol’ man says to heart. I’m sure you know since you been livin’ with him that he’s just a cranky ol’ drunk who don’t know when to shut up. You’re a good kid, Arvin. Ain’t none of us actually think you did it.”

Arvin looked down at where Davis’s hand rested on his shoulder, the same way his dad used to touch his shoulder when he was reassuring him. He forced a small appreciative nod and a strained appearance of being unbothered, “It’s alright, Davis. I know he’s just kiddin’ ‘round. I ‘ppreciate it though.”

_

Your father arrived at home before Arvin, much to your dismay. Elvis Presley’s Blue Hawaii album was spinning on the record player when he came into the kitchen, kicking his boots off by the door.

“Hey, daddy! How was work?” You asked, mashing a bowl of potatoes for dinner.

He made a line directly to the fridge, grabbing a beer and popping the tab off with no effort, “It was alright. Damn Gilligan blew out the transmission on his truck so I been stuck fixin’ that up all day. Lookin’ forward to this right here.” Your father lifted up the beer bottle and sipped it with satisfaction. Yeah, I’m sure you were, you thought, rolling your eyes with your back turned to your dad.

“Well, if you wanna get cleaned up, dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes. More than enough time for a shower,” you offered with a cheerful voice. Lunch with Arvin today had made your day good in a way that was hard to ruin.

“Yeah, I might go do that. What’s for dinner?” Your father walked over and peeked over your shoulder to see what you had cooking on the stove.

“Mashed potatoes, green beans, and chicken.” You cut in a few slices of butter and added them to the bowl of mashed potatoes, sprinkling some salt, pepper, and garlic powder to taste.

Expecting some words of discouragement like you usually earned from your father, he just nodded contently and disappeared out of the kitchen towards the bathroom. You turned to watch him walk away, your mouth fallen open in pleased surprise at the fact that you just had a semi-pleasant interaction with your father for the first time in several weeks. You turned back to mixing in the now melted butter into the mashed potatoes when the front door opened yet again.

You looked back to see Arvin walking in through the living room, “Hey, Arv!”

His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and judging by the way his eyes shot up to you, as if he hadn’t expected your greeting, he had been staring at the ground when he walked in. “Hi,” he answered low and short with no emotion one way or the other.

Your brows furrowed, “Everythin’ alright?” Leaving the food on the counter and wiping your hands on your apron, you walked out into the living room towards him.

Arvin visibly took a step back and his eyes widened a little, his shoulders squaring up, “Yeah, ��m good. Just wanna take a shower.”

Before you could get the words out, he had already begun walking away. “My dad’s already in the bathroom,” you called out after him, finally getting him to stop.

Arvin didn’t turn back to you though, only half glanced over his shoulder, “Oh, alright.” He turned back to continue his walk back to his room.

“Dinner will be ready soon!” You attempted to add, only earning a small thanks in response and the sound of Arvin’s door closing. “O-oh… okay.” You stood alone in the living room, the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and Elvis Presley’s voice filling the room but not loud enough to drown out your concern.

Dinner went by just as uncomfortably. You poked at your mashed potatoes, keeping your gaze stuck down at the food on your plate except for when you glanced over at Arvin who seemed to be actively looking anywhere except for you. This only made you roll your eyes out of frustration and stare back down at your food.

Your dad talked about his day, mostly grumbled complaints, “I don’t get nearly ‘nough respect ‘round here. Damn Fred and Davis callin’ me a drunk. What? A man can’t enjoy a damn beer without being called a drunk! Damn prudes.” When you didn’t respond, he reached over and tapped your arm, “Hey? You even listenin’?”

“Hm?” You tried to make yourself focus on what he was saying this time, “Sorry, long day. What happened?”

“See? I ain’t get no respect at work and I can’t even get no respect at my own damn house from my own damn daughter!” He grumbled, the feet of the wooden chair scraping against the ground as he stood up forcefully, swaying a little side to side but bracing himself on the wall to walk out of the room.

You didn’t even possess the mental capacity to care about his little tantrum. Your mind was swimming with confusion and, honestly, anger, at Arvin’s little unexplained silent treatment. “Okay, what’s wrong?” You asked, leaning towards Arvin.

“Nothin’.” He answered simply, taking a sip of his water. His voice was low and he still refused to make eye contact, despite nothin’ being wrong.

“That’s a lie. Everythin’ was fine this mornin’ and now you’re suddenly not talkin’ to me. Won’t even look at me! What the hell, Arvin? Did I say somethin’ wrong?” Thinking back, there wasn’t anything you had said earlier that you could imagine warranting such a negative response from Arvin so your confusion and concern had quickly turned to frustration.

Arvin shook his head, “No, no, you ain’t did nothin’ wrong.”

“Then what is it?” You practically begged him to tell you. You hated being upset at him when clearly something was bothering him but this felt like he was just playing some broody guessing game with you, something you got enough of from your dad.

Stress shone through Arvin’s eyes and he met your gaze finally, if only for a second, before looking away again. You could see there was a flicker of something you hadn’t seen in him before but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Whatever it was, it was really bothering him and you felt guilty for being upset. You just couldn’t understand why you suddenly were being ignored for something that apparently had nothing to do with you.

“I can’t tell you.”

Arvin’s admittal just made you more upset. “So you’re not mad at me but you’re ignoring me and can’t tell me why?”

Arvin hadn’t seen you look at him this way. At your father, yes, but he was unaccustomed to that raised eyebrow and frustratedly desperate crack in your voice being directed towards him. He hated it. He hated knowing that he was causing you to feel upset and helpless when he was supposed to be your escape from those exact feelings.

But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you the truth. You’d think he was a monster. You’d hate him. He’d lose the one good thing he had in his life because-

Arvin shook his head, “‘M sorry.” He looked anywhere but at you because he couldn’t stand to see the way your face fell, though he could practically feel your heart fall from across the table. He didn’t need to see it. He knew.

“Fine.” You stood up and grabbed your plate, scraping the rest in the garbage and setting the plate in the sink. Your appetite was gone and your patience had snapped, not that you had been the most patient thus far anyways.

Arvin watched as you stormed out of the kitchen, grabbed your coat off the coat rack by the front door, and walked out of the house. His head hit his hands. No matter how hard he tried to protect those he cared about, he only seemed to hurt them more.

-

You hadn’t expected Arvin to find you here so when the door opened to the old barn, you turned around in surprise. You were curled up in your coat, sitting on an old wooden crate that had been untouched in this unused barn for God knows how long. A large window looked out over the large field that had once been the family farm but was now practically a glorified dirt lot. Your coat was wrapped tightly around your body, held in place with one hand while you held a lit cigarette with the other.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” Arvin took a few steps in, his hands shoved guiltily in the pocket of his denim jacket.

You blew out a large plume of smoke that you had been holding in and looked away, “I don’t too often.”

Arvin closed the barn door behind him as he approached you and you had to fight the urge to get up and leave but you knew that made you no less immature than the way you felt he was acting.

“‘M sorry. I really am.”

You took another drag and turned to him, the moonlight illuminating his features - somehow so boy-like but so rugged - and it was hard to stay mad at him. “I am too. I don’t mean to be dramatic but I just… I don’t understand, Arv. If somethin’s wrong, you can tell me. This whole silent treatment BS with zero explanation doesn’t cut it.”

Arvin let out a heavy breath. While doing the dishes from dinner for you after you stormed off, he had had time to contemplate what to do. And he had decided. “If I tell you, it’s gonna change how you look at me.”

Your head tilted up at his cryptic opener but you said nothing, only urged him to continue with your eyes.

With a deep shaky inhale, he started his story, “I ain’t a bad man but I’ve done some bad things. Things that I thought I could run away from. I been livin’ a lie for a long time, actin’ like I ain’t hurt nobody, but it ain’t true.” Arvin paused for a moment to gauge your reaction and all he saw was fear in your eyes, just as he had feared.

A million thoughts of terrible things people were capable of ran through your head as you tried to figure out which one Arvin could possibly be guilty of, though they all felt so out of character for him. Was it murder? Assault? Rape? Thievery? The man you had come to care for so deeply now swam in a murky pool of doubt and distrust. Arvin saw all this and more in your deep, worried eyes.

“What did you do?” Your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be, cracking with fear. Until today, you hadn’t imagined Arvin capable of doing anything that could real harm to anyone, maybe aside from a stupid fight in high school or something along those lines, but you could see it in his eyes that whatever it was he was trying to confess to really was that bad.

Arvin lost his ability to speak for a moment. He had resolved to tell you everything before even coming out here to talk to you but the fear shining in your eyes already had his heart breaking. It was as if every new line of moonlight reflecting off the growing whites of your eyes was a new stain that he managed to tarnish your view of him with. Arvin had to look away because he couldn’t bear to look at you when he finally admitted his crimes, couldn’t stand to watch your face contort in fear when you realized what a monster he was.

“Y-you remember that preacher I told you ‘bout? The one that hurt my sister?”

You nodded, “Y-yeah…”

Arvin swallowed hard and he gripped his thigh tight enough to turn his knuckles white. “Well few weeks after we buried Lenora, a police officer came up ‘n told me the coroner had found out she was havin’ a baby. None of us knew before. I don’t know how but I just knew it was that no good preacher. I didn’t have any proof though so I started followin’ ‘im ‘n found out he was worse than I thought. He was no good to his wife ‘n I saw him out takin' advantage of another girl in town who was even younger than my Lenora was. He was doin’ nothin’ but hurtin’ people ‘n I… I killed im.”

Your mouth fell open, “You- You killed him?”

Arvin looked down at his feet, “I shot him.”

It was silent as you processed the information. This preacher sounded like a terrible man, abusing young girls and leading one to commit suicide. The infidelity to his wife was a moot point against his other indiscretions and even that was unacceptable. It honestly sounded like Arvin had done a service to the world, taking this monster out of it, but it was still difficult to look at him the same after knowing that he had actually shot someone.

When you didn’t respond, Arvin had decided to continue, not thinking he could cause much more damage, “I ran. Left a note for my grandma and uncle and disappeared. I tried hitchhiking my way out of town when I got picked by this couple. They seemed nice ‘nough at first but the husband, he started actin’ real weird. They pulled us way off the road. Said he wanted to take some pictures but then I saw him pull out a gun and then he tried pullin’ me outta the car. I-I panicked and I kicked the door into him ‘n I shot ‘im before he could get me.”

Arvin’s voice was cracking as tears began to fall down his face. It was one thing to replay the memories in his own head but it was another thing entirely to actually confess his sins to someone he cared so deeply about, knowing the truth would most likely hurt you. “The wife, she pulled out a gun and pointed it at me ‘n I pointed mine at her. I begged her to put the gun down. I-I didn’t wanna shoot her. I really didn’t. I was so tired of killin’ but then she apologized ‘n I knew she was gonna pull the trigger. We both shot at the same time. I got no clue how she didn’t shoot me. I fell out the car without a scratch but I when I got up, I realized I got her through the neck 'n she was gone. I panicked ‘n searched the car. Found all these pictures of her all naked and huggin’ up on some naked dead guy ‘n I knew… I knew I was gonna be next.”

Your brain sprinted a mile a minute to try and keep up with the trauma Arvin was confessing and you didn’t know whether to hug him and let him cry on you or run as far away as possible.

“Then-”

“There’s more?” You wanted to beg him to stop talking, to stop telling you about the blood on his hands, to stop telling you about all the suffering he had been through. You sounded shocked and heartbroken and yet none of these tragedies were yours.

Arvin hiccuped and sniffled in a failed attempt to hide a sob. Red had taken over his features, both physically and metaphorically. Obviously distraught by his past and now your reaction, he felt like he was beginning to spiral down that hole of darkness that he had tried so hard to claw his way out of. There were nothing but snakes down there, ready to bite him and poison his mind with the words he had fought so desperately to keep out. Murderer. Stalker. Liar. Sinner. All of these and so many more.

Yet, he nodded, feeling as if he’d still be lying if he didn’t finish telling you everything. When he nodded, you made a small squeak of disbelief.

“I-I ran,” He sniffled out, “I hitchhiked my way back to my old hometown. I didn’t know why at first but I just needed to go home. Felt like maybe I could fix what had been broken there. Went there to find it all burnt down but then this sheriff came lookin’ after me. Turns out he was that lady’s brother - the one who shot at me and had the pictures of the cut up dead guys. He was all angry and wanted to kill me for shootin’ his sister. I tried… I tried to tell ‘im that she was no good and that she was gonna kill me but he didn’t wanna listen. He was shootin’ at me and… and… I ain’t had no choice.”

It was silent, aside from the ambient bugs chirping outside. You had tried so hard to focus on Arvin’s face but you had long since zoned out visually, only able to focus on the words he was saying. How could he have gone through all of this? How could your wonderful, amazing, beautiful Arvin Russell have survived so much suffering and been forced to murder people? Murder.

“Please say somethin’.”

Your lips quivered as your vision came back into view and all you saw was a tearful, fearful, remorseful boy before you on the brink of falling apart. Arvin’s hair was messy from having run his hands through it, his eyes were red and puffy from the tears, his breathing was shaky from remembering. There were no words.

You threw your arms around his neck and held him tightly to you. You didn’t know what else to do. How does someone respond to information like this? There was so much trust that Arvin needed to put in you to tell you - you couldn’t freak out.

“You don’t hate me?” His hands flew to your arms, prying them off his neck so he could see your face.

Your head shook, “How could I hate you for what you did?”

“I murdered four people.”

“You took out a disgusting predator who practically killed your sister and was harming who knows how many other girls. Then you killed a couple of murderers who pulled guns on you first in self defense. And then, yet again, you were put in a life or death situation with a sheriff who was shootin’ at you for killin’ his murderin’ sister. Three of those were self defense and I’d dare say that first one was a public service. You have nothin’ to be sorry for. You have nothin’ to regret. You did what you had to do to survive.” You squeezed Arvin’s hands tightly, running your soft thumbs over the lightly calloused skin of his knuckles.

Arvin looked down at your hands on his, hands that were so much smaller than his own but right now felt so encompassing and comforting, as if they wrapped his own in a blanket of protection. He couldn’t believe you were okay with this. He was barely okay with it. “I don’t regret it but I didn’t wanna have to do it. If I coulda let that lady go, if she only woulda listened to me ‘n put the gun down I wouldn’t o’ had to pull the trigger. I coulda let the cops deal with it. Same with the sheriff. If only he woulda listened… I only wanted to shoot the preacher. I was okay with havin’ that on my conscience. But I had no idea how outta control that day was gonna get. All those cold dead eyes starin’ up at you, watchin’ the life drain from someone’s face ‘n knowin’ you’re the one who caused that... Even if they were real fucked up people, it ain’t a sight that’s easy to see.”

“I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like, Arvin.” Your hand slid up his arm to rest on his bicep and you leaned your forehead onto his shoulder. His arm snaked around your body and held you close but cautious, like he was scared if he held you too tightly that you’d be scared he’d hurt you too. Of course, you weren’t. The thought did cross your mind that perhaps it was unwise to trust a man who just admitted to killing four people but that wasn’t Arvin and you knew it. “You may have killed people but that does not make you a killer. You’re just someone who was put in some really hard situations and had to make some tough choices.”

You pulled back and put your hand on his cheek, slightly scratchy from not shaving that day, and you spoke gently, “You are wonderful, Arvin. You are caring and hard working and loyal and willing to stand up for what is right. You are everything good in this world-”

“I hurt people-”

“You protect people,” you corrected, “‘N if some bad people had to get hurt to keep the good ones safe, well maybe they shouldn’t have been such bad people.”

Arvin could have melted into a puddle at your feet, and likely would have if you hadn’t been holding him. Never had he expected to tell anyone his terrible deeds and in every imagined scenario in which he did, it had never ended well. He had imagined you running for the hills, screaming at him to get out, maybe even threatening him physically out of fear that he’d hurt you now (which he’d never dream of doing).

But you didn’t do any of that. Gentleness and understanding were far from the reaction he’d expected or even felt like he deserved but nevertheless here you were holding him and reassuring him that he wasn’t the monster he’d called himself for so many months.

“I love you.”

His admission surprised you but Arvin felt fully confident in his words. He had never known what love felt like - romantic love at least - but this was damn near the closest thing he could imagine to it. You occupied his thoughts every waking moment, your face and your voice swimming around his imagination in a beautiful ocean of warmth and kindness and goodness that he would gladly drown in. You were strong and responsible and understanding and oh so beautiful. Much like him, you’d been handed a shit hand by life and struggled each day to make the best of it. Arvin cared about you so much it scared him because he had not felt this compulsion towards anyone since Lenora had passed. After losing everything he’d ever loved, he was scared that if he admitted that he loved you, life would take you away from him as well. If there was one thing that you did, though, it was take away Arvin’s fear.

“I love you too, Arvin.” He pulled your body flush against his when you responded, a heavy sigh of relief leaving his chest. Much like Arvin, you hadn’t known what real love felt like. You’d even started believing that maybe you weren’t meant for such a luxury.

Now you and Arvin felt like the richest people in the world, despite having almost nothing to your names. As long as you were in each others’ arms, you had everything. You were each others’ trust, honesty, comfort, compassion, and protection.

_______

Taglist:

@peterswebshooters

@thisisparadisemylove

@justapurrcat

@tomsirishgirlx

@peterswebshooters

@femmme-xxx-fatale

@kittyformannn

@aidinniram

@minejungwoo

@mathletemadison

[raggaraddy]

The Basement: part one

Anon request: Hi can I request an assassin!yoongi one shot where yoongi gets jealous over reader somehow even though I know he isolates her so she depends on him but maybe she somehow stumbles into a colleague of his in his living room or a friend and the friend is 👀 looking not so respectfully

A/N: Enjoy lovely. 💜💜💜 Part two

Summary: For the first time ever there is someone else in the house with you and Yoongi. How could Yoongi expect you to resist speaking with him.

Trigger warnings: Violence, intimidation, kidnapping, imprisonment, yandere themes.

Yoongi

Yandere! Yoongi

Assassin! Yoongi

It may only be a few hundred square meters, but this house is your entire world. You know every creak, every floorboard that squeaked, how each door closes, everything. So in the middle of the night when you are woken by an almighty thump, at once you could recognize how out of place it was.

Cautiously sneaking downstairs and peering around every bend, you are just in time to see Yoongi slamming the basement door shut behind him.

Putting your ear to the entrance, you could hear the sounds of banging, of the chains, of low spoken voices. Over and over in your head, you told yourself to ignore it. To go back to bed and let it be. But the signs that there was another person down there with Yoongi were clear, and the temptation of that was too much to bear.

Your lesser instinct winning out, you open the door, instantly coming face to face with an ascending Yoongi. And behind him, in the place where you had been chained up many times before was a hooded man. Seated on the floor in a slumped position. His hands fixed against the wall keeping them high.

"Out," Yoongi demands, shoving your shoulder lightly to push you back through the doorway.

"Who-" is all you can gape, disbelief printed on your face.

"Not your concern." He refuses, closing the door. Continuing to push you back into the kitchen. "You do not go down there. Am I clear?" A finality to his expression not allowing any room for discussion or expansion.

Nodding, with a small pout you look at the basement one last time before faking a smile and returning to bed.

You were awestricken. Not once in nearly 8 months have you seen or heard another person in this house. Also not during the 6 months stretch before that. No one had visited. Not a single person had come past the house or had even driven up the driveway by accident. Your curiosity was burning you from the inside out. Your longing to see, to speak to another human aching your very soul.

Yoongi had gone into town, leaving you alone with the unlocked basement door. You'd always been chained up if he kept you down there, so it had never needed to be locked before. And the very idea of taking a quick peek was so tantalizing. However, on the more sensible side of this debate, you knew that Yoongi's word was final and you had never disobeyed him before.

You would like to say you were smart enough for this to at least be a difficult decision. But you swiftly threw common sense to the wind and went downstairs the second you heard the car pull out of the garage. Your body buzzing as you approached the new man.

With a heavy breath and timorous movements, you pull the hood back from the man's head. Black, straight, short hair. Dark, full brows, a perfect heart-shaped face, and ears that stuck out just a little too far. From head to toe, he's largely built. Taller and wider than Yoongi, making you astounded to think about how dangerous he really was.

For a few seconds, the both of you look equally surprised to see the other. Your pulse coursing through your ears, mouth slightly agape, looking at another human for the first time in forever.

"Hi," you squeak, nothing else coming to mind.

"Who are you?" He snarls.

It's spoken with so much hostility, but that question is one that brings you so much relief. You break down, pouring out your entire story in a rampant monologue. Telling him in detail everything you could about you, Yoongi, this place and your abductions. Fully spilling all that you had been so desperate to tell.

He, however, gives you nothing in return. For nearly 10 minutes you ask him question after question and he declines them all. Not even his name slips loose. He explains once that he can't know if your working with Yoongi, or that lunatic as he called him, and he is not going to tell you a single thing. Every question afterwards is only met with a solemn stare or a shake of refusal.

"If you won't tell me anything," you mope a little, "well, you look like a James Bond character, so I'm going to call you Mr Spy. The Spy? 007. Spy-man? I'll work on it." You mutter completely senseless and giddy from this rare moment. Continuing to overshare and divulge.

"Okay, Y/N. With everything you've told me, we're on the same page. So, if you help me get out of these," he rattles his hands, "Then I can get you out of this place."

The thought is alluring. But also more than you signed up for when you came down here. Firstly, Yoongi always keeps the keys for these chains on him. But secondly and most importantly, if you attempted to escape, if you tried to leave again Yoongi would never forgive you. You can't get away from him. You know you can't. And if you tried he would lock you up and throw away the key. You couldn't- You can't.

"I'm sorry, but no. I can't." You sadly brush his offer aside. Feeling awful denying him help like that. "I have to go back up before Yoongi comes home," you mumble.

Leaning over him you bring the hood up. You need to return him to how he was. He doesn't fight or argue, seeming to somberly accept his fate, but his eyes do dart to the top of the stairs at the last second.

Reacting to his troubled expression, you spin around seeing Yoongi already home, standing at the entrance.

At once your body tightens becoming flushed with sweat. Scrambling back from the man you stand in the middle of the room, trying to keep your breathing slow and deep to hide your fright.

"I thought," He starts to lower down the stairs, punctuating each point in his sentence with an additional step. "I said. You could not. Come in here."

"I'm sorry," you hush as Yoongi snatches the hood from your hand. Your head lowering in surrender.

"You want to save her?" He turns his attention and building anger towards his new prisoner. His fists are tight, knuckles cracking as he clenches and twists them. "You want to get her out of this place?" The challenge, the hash way he spits the words spoken about you is making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Goosebumps flittering down your skin.

Lurching forward Yoongi's knee bashes into The Spy's head. And again. His foot following down booting him in the chest. And again.

"You think she wants to go with you?!" He growls, beating his fist into his head, over and over. The skin breaking, blood erupting all across his face. The Spy's restrained position not allowing him to protect himself in any way, only able to groan and splutter through the abuse. "You're too weak to even get yourself free. You think you can take her!" Yoongi steps back and lifts his leg, stomping the heel of his boot into the curled up fist of The Spy. Making him explode in a pained howl as you hear the bones crunch.

Not wanting to show any reaction, you stay coiled and fixed. Praying for this to end quickly. You had seen this level of violence and sadism from Yoongi before in the outside world. He doesn't acknowledge or accept any interference and he will only finish on his own terms.

You can't help but think if this is this how cruel and viciously he treats everyone else?

Stomping down again, this time he lines up The Spy's ankle. Throwing all his weight, all his force into the joint. The man's screams turning into cries as he wails in agony.

"No. You're not taking her anywhere." Yoongi straightens up, blowing out a heavy breath. Running his fingers back through his black hair over and over pulling it out of his face. "You're gonna tell me everything I wanna know. And then I'll finally let you die." He swallows hard, rearranging his clothes and loosening his muscles. His fiery explosion now quenched.

You can't lift your eyes as he drags you to the top floor. The basement door sealing, muffling the tears of the man below.

"Yoongi. I told him- I told him I couldn't-" You're starting and stopping, trying to sufficiently explain or plead your case. He's never shown anything near that level of violence towards you, but you were still sure he was about to lock you away endlessly for disobeying him.

He steps into you, silencing and making you jump back, smacking into the wall. Trapped between it and your hovering captor.

"I heard you." He speaks deeply and softly. In complete opposition to how he was moments ago. "Well done." His coarse pronunciation is abandoned as he speaks these words very clearly. Making sure you hear his sincerity.

His hand runs softly over your hair, stroking and cupping your head. Making you fight not to melt. Making you look up at him with big eyes. Any sort of affection from Yoongi instantly impacting you greatly, making you emotional and needy for more. Your bottom lip quivering, you whimper lowly as you lose the internal struggle and lean into his hand. Your eyes scrunching tight, hating yourself for how much his gentle touch affects your heart.

"Come with me," he holds your hand having you trail him upstairs. Taking you into his bedroom where he extends the affection and intimacy. Being with you so tenderly and kindly as your mind and heart tears back and forth between the softness you can feel now, and the horrors you saw him do before.

Despite the risks, your head fills with how and when you could see The Spy again. He was hurt, and he needed your help. And you were too eager to see him again. But when you wake the next day, you find a hefty padlock keeping the basement door sealed.

Yoongi at once reading your reaction. "You should thank me for locking that door Y/N. You don't know how dangerous some people can be."

Part two

[minniepetals]

nightlight

— summary: things have never been easy for you but you never expected it’d be them that would make things easier

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, fluff, mafia!au, gangsters!bts, rich!reader

— word count: 7.7k

— warnings: (triggering topics!) reader is sold to bangtan, dysfunctional family, allusions to an abusive father/husband, harassment, reader has a tough life growing up, guns, violence, jungkook calls her a whore (but apologizes), mentions of death, minor character death, insomniac!reader, nightmares, hurt and comfort

— rec music: finding hope - nightlight

Starlight star bright.

Fallen stars shooting in your dreams.

A wish, a hope. A prayer to escape from the world. From responsibilities and from the sacrifices that keeps you trapped in these chains of yours. 

You keep yourself from feigning a smile, knowing it means nothing, knowing there is no reason to fake anything when the rest of the world is already doing the job.

Your father doesn't love you.

If he does, he wouldn't have thrown you out of his life when things got too hard, too difficult because he messed with the wrong man.

The same man whom you kneel in front of. The same man who takes your face in his hands, gentler than your father can ever, and gives you a blank look when you meet his gaze.

Call it sickening but his eyes look quite lovely.

Beautiful even.

Maybe that is why you don't flinch away when he holds a sinister smirk. Or perhaps you had already gotten used to your father's actions and now he's the only one that can ever make you feel afraid.

That's why you can't be afraid of the mafia boss.

Because even though he kills, he doesn't hurt you.

Maybe not yet, maybe you're still expecting it, but his hands never hangs in the air, hoping to swipe it right across your face.

"Why do you always stay awake?"

You turn around from the window, catching the gaze of one of his most trusted men.

Park Jimin leans against the door to your supposed room, the moonlight illuminating his pretty face. He has an arched brow, pillow lips pressed together, arms crossed against his chest.

"Is the room not to your pleasing?" He asks you. A soft yet hard tone. "Do you need a bigger room, princess?"

He mocks you. The daughter of a businessman who should have known the consequences to his actions and now his business is at stake, with his daughter in the hands of one of the darkest gangs.

He played with the wrong card and these men will never let you forget it.

Yet you remain calm as you shake your head lightly. Sincerely. "I am thankful for this room," you tell him.

"Then sleep."

As if it is easy.

As if it had always been easy.

"I...will try," you promise him, not brave to go up against him or make excuses. He is scary but not as scary as your father.

You wonder what your father is doing right now. Is he sleeping? Living a better life now that you are gone?

You wonder if your mother is alright.

But then again, she's escaped him so perhaps she is indeed living a life far better than when she lived with the two of you.

"Trying is not hard enough," Jimin says and your gaze falls to the floor.

"I'm sorry."

Jimin scoffs. "Sorry?" He repeats. "For what? Not sleeping?"

"Yes," you hum softly, "and for being here."

"Not really your choice now is it?" He steps away from the door, arms uncrossing. "You've got to be braver than this, princess." The name is lighter. "There's no need to apologize for something you had no control over."

"Still, I.." you watch your hands hold each other, gripping against one another tightly, "I'm sorry for what he's done."

"That should be his words, baby, not yours."

You hear the door click closed and his footsteps echoing away.

.

.

"You know how to treat wounds?"

Hoseok stares at the concentrated look on your face, lips pursed, eyes barely blinking one bit as your fingers work their ways stitching him up.

"I've often had to do this," you tell him and it's a bit of surprise. "My father..gets in trouble many times."

He raises a brow. "He's messed with other gangs?"

"I have no clue on the backgrounds. He doesn't tell me and I am in no position to ask."

"You're his daughter."

You don't reply, just keeping quiet.

But he sees you blink, sees the slight hesitation in your hands, how your eyes just stares blankly for a brief moment before returning to focus.

You try to hide it but he knows there's something going on that isn't right.

He shouldn't be surprised. Your father is the one who offered Namjoon to take you in the first place and they allowed it only because they believed you were someone worthy to your father.

But it looks like that isn't the likely story.

He's tricked them, so maybe this should be the moment when he lets the rest know to kick you out.

You're not a pawn anymore at this point.

But he doesn't understand why he doesn't feel like making a move.

.

.

The halls of the mansion is dark and empty even when it is daylight so you can never really come to understand how much time has passed until you return to your room, tired and drowsy and check the windows.

It is usually dark by the time you come back from your duties of cleaning and cleaning but even then you can't fall asleep.

Some days are harder than the rest but it's better.

Better than playing your father's puppet in the media as the world's perfect daughter.

"Why don't you ever complain?"

You look up from scrubbing the floors, holding your forearm against your forehead to wipe the sweat.

Yoongi stands in front of you, dirty shoes on so you know you'll have to redo the floors all over again. Yet surprisingly to him, you show no sign of distress.

"You seemed to be living the perfect life as a rich man's daughter," he scoffs, "not that he's rich anymore. So why aren't you saying anything?"

You remain quiet for a moment and usually he'll hurt the ones who hesitates to answer him right away but to your surprise, he does nothing but wait for you.

"It's fake," you whisper.

His brows crease.

"The perfect life," you answer the unspoken question. "It's not perfect, as you can see."

"Oh?" A brow arches and he sounds a little amused. "I thought he was just desperate."

"He is," you say, "desperate to throw me away."

"Well," Yoongi begins to turn away, his steps walking off, "this just got a little more interesting."

You return to your duties, choosing to ignore what he means because you're sure he will not speak his mind if you ask.

You're afraid to ask. .

.

The library is more difficult to clean because it is so big but you enjoy yourself there more than most rooms.

Mostly because you get to take a moment to read a few things. No one comes in anyways, which brings out the question as to why waste a whole room filled with books when everything is dusty, as if no one has ever touched a thing.

"A-hem."

Your breath hitches at the sound and you're quick to get back on your feet, book slammed closed and placed right back into its slot.

The boss raises his brow. "Mythology?"

"F-forgive me, sir." You lay your head low, too afraid to meet his disapproving eyes.

"You like mythology?" He asks an unexpected question and you know you have to answer.

"It...interests me."

"Does it?" You nod. "Which one?"

"...Hades and Persephone, sir."

Namjoon chuckles. It isn't anything like the dark chuckles he gives to the ones that have offended him and you wonder why.

"What about that story interests you?"

"Well," you say. It's a little easier to speak. "I just..find it quite lovely. Persephone would have been a forgotten goddess if Hades had not given her purpose. Their love created the seasons. The darkness fell in love with the flower."

"More like he fell for her and stole her away to his kingdom."

"But she eventually found love within the Underworld God as well," you point out. "He showed her kindness, showed her that he's capable of love as well, and that he isn't as heartless and cruel as everyone deems him to be."

He takes a moment to be silent, his eyes meeting yours, the same ones that refused to be afraid of him from the moment he had first taken a good look at you.

You were pure, still pure, and too innocent to fall into the hands of a father who couldn't show his own daughter some bit of love.

Namjoon finds it disgusting honestly, and figured that was the case when you were first offered to him. So after finding out it was indeed true from Yoongi, the fact only makes him more bitter.

"I'm sure the God only felt a change in him because of her."

Yet you shake your head gently at his words. "No one can change you, you do that yourself," you say. "The people around you are the ones that inspires you to change."

Namjoon doesn't understand how anyone can ever dare to think of hurting someone like you.

.

.

A few days later, you don't know how you got here but here you are, standing in a room filled with people in an ivory dress that falls to the floor.

You've been to parties before, you've been to plenty of parties, and it surprises you that you're let out after just two months of staying with the mafia gang.

Are they not afraid of you escaping?

Then again, perhaps it's because they are prepared for your escape in case you do try to leave.

They'll hunt your father down.

He may not love you as you still dreadfully love him, but you won't risk him at the chance of death.

You stand alone, not understanding what your position is because this is their mission. They're here to hunt someone down.

Distraction, Namjoon states, but you don't understand what that means.

Someone walks up to you, a gentleman, who offers you a drink that you decide to let him down on.

Another walks up to you and another.

You feel uncomfortable in the crowd that surrounds you, making lame jokes, trying too woo you.

"How about we ditch this party?"

Oh no, you certainly cannot do that.

"You know, you look quite familiar."

You don't want to be known and expose your identity, you can't do that when you're in the middle of a mission you're supposed to be a part of.

But with these men around, you can't do your job even though you don't know what exactly you're supposed to be doing.

Someone touches you and you flinch. "Please don't do that."

But he only laughs.

They laugh, shrugging it off as if it is not inappropriate.

But it is and you hate it.

Someone slides a hand along your waist and you flinch again before relaxing when you see who the man is.

"She already came with someone," Seokjin glares at them, ready to hurt the guy who dared to touch you.

You don't know why he makes you relaxed but amongst the crowd that eventually dies down around you, Seokjin feels the safest despite knowing what he does.

Maybe it's because you know him.

A little.

When he turns to you, you lay your head in shame. "I-I'm sorry."

He scoffs. "For what?"

You look up at him, confused. "Hm?"

It's a cute hum. "You did your job distracting them, good job." That was what they meant? You really didn't like it and you think he can understand that by the look on your face. "It's okay, you can leave now. Now go there, we've located our guy."

You look over at where he beckons.

A hallway.

"You're...not coming?" You ask. You know it isn't good to question them and it almost scares you but Seokjin doesn't grow angry.

"I'm shutting this party down," he smirks and you can understand what that means.

When he lets you go, you hesitate for a moment, watching him, and when you come to comprehend the fact that he will do nothing until you leave, you bid him goodbye and rush away.

The gunshot comes a minute later as you're running down the hall and you hear the distant screams.

It's hard but you keep running.

Heels hurt but it doesn't matter.

You have to run.

Find someone, one of them. Leave with them.

Yet you can't get far enough because someone grabs you by the arm, pulls you into a room, and forces themself to hold you against their chest, arm choking you and a gun pointed to your head.

Jungkook stands before you with a gun pointed directly at you. Or maybe not at you, maybe at the man. With a blank stare, showing no sign of weakness.

"Let me go or I'll kill her," the man behind you threatens.

You don't know why he thinks you're important to the man and you're sure even Jungkook thinks that.

Because the youngest only shrugs.

"Kill her," he says nonchalantly. "As if I care."

"Then why'd she come with you?"

"She's just a maid."

The man laughs darkly. "A little whore, huh? I hear you don't usually keep girls around for long. Is she that good?"

"You're sick for an old man."

He laughs again, louder, and it brings shivers down your spine. "I can be sicker." Something wet swipes along your cheek and you realize it's his tongue.

His dirty, disgusting tongue.

It breaks you.

Memories flooding back. Your mother, her tears. You, a little girl, and your father not caring one bit.

Jungkook meets your eyes when it tears up, trembling, but he keeps on the nonchalant facade. As if he doesn't care what the man will do to you, so your tears only falls because you are so, so afraid.

You can't do this.

You're still pure.

You can't...you can't.

"Quite sweet," the man hums and you whimper. "What a sweeter voice."

Jungkook rolls his eyes. "Quit your games and just face me already."

He chuckles. "Alright, fine." He releases you, pushes you down the floor where you yelp at the harsh sensation. "Don't worry sweetie, I'll clean you up later-"

But he doesn't get a chance to say anything further.

Once he's distracted, a bullet has already hit his shoulder with no hesitation.

His head snaps back to Jungkook who shoots again. And then again, and again.

You hold your hands over your ears, tears falling at the continuous gunshots that doesn't seem to ever stop and Jungkook's angry voice rings above it.

"After I'm done with you, I'll deal with your family just like you've done to mine. I'll kill them, each and every one of them. Not even your damn dog will be spared."

He can't hear him, you know he can't. There's no chance of survival left with the continuous gunshots that comes and comes, angry waves of hot tears escaping the maknae's eyes when you look up, and your heart shatters.

A broken little boy of a childhood that forced him into this life.

Seeking for revenge for what someone, that someone on the floor, has done to his very own family.

When the ammo is no longer, Jungkook throws the gun harshly at the wall where it hits and breaks, and runs to hold up the man by his collar, fist coming in contact with his face.

He's already dead but even then Jungkook is not satisfied.

How can he ever be satisfied?

His family is gone, never to return to his side.

A lost man. A lost child.

You get up from where you were thrown and take his arm to pull him away. "Jungkook-"

"Get away from me, you whore!"

You ignore his spiteful words and continue pulling at him. "Stop! He's dead!"

Yet Jungkook doesn't care.

"Jungkook!" A few more punches until you finally got him and push him away. "Jungkook," you call his name a little gentler, "it's okay."

He scoffs and pushes you away. "What does a whore understand?"

He goes to stand again but you force him back down, hands reaching out to lay against his shoulders. "It's okay, Jungkook. It's going to be okay," you repeat again. "You don't have to be afraid anymore."

"I'm not-"

"You're going to be alright." You hold him down, staring straight into his eyes. "I know you're scared," you say, "I know you're confused. But it's going to be alright. You're just a little boy who's gone through so much. You must have been hurting for so long, Jungkook, but you're okay now and I am so, so proud of you."

You hold his face, a soft gentle sensation against him, thumbs brushing away the hot tears that had fallen from his eyes.

You wipe away the blood on his face. Watching him gently, holding him gently.

And Jungkook doesn't understand but he tears up a little more. His chest tightens and he feels himself trembling.

What a lovely pair of hands.

So he surprises you by wrapping his hands around your waist and pulling you in close, face resting against the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

You freeze for a second before relaxing and holding him still, hairs running along his fluffy hair, stroking it sweetly. "You're alright now. It's okay."

"Jungkook-!"

The rest of them comes rushing into the room only to find a dead body, blood spilled all around, with you and Jungkook holding onto each other as Jungkook cries.

Jungkook's crying.

Holding you.

He doesn't do that unless he absolutely cannot take it anymore.

He doesn't ever do that in front of anyone but them.

And now you.

You look up at their faces, some bits of blood managing to wipe across your face, with eyes of innocence, and Namjoon wonders why you aren't running away despite the blood in the room.

Despite having just witnessed Jungkook killing someone.

.

.

Taehyung lays in the pool when you walk in to clean a day later, body floating under the moonlight, eyes laying closed.

So when he hears a soft gasp and a bucket falling against the tiles, his lids open and meets your eyes from where you stand.

Heat rushes to your face and you're quick to turn around. "I-I am so sorry, sir! I didn't know you'd be here. I-I thought that, that I could clean up early since no one would be here."

What a cute little thing.

"Cleaning up at one in the morning?" He swims over slowly to you, arms laying on the edge of the pool, chin resting against his wet skin with an amused grin. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"I..I couldn't sleep, sir."

Sir.

He smirks, a hum leaving his lips. "Can't sleep, hm?" Jimin's told him he checks up on you from time to time and always find you awake at night. "Then come join me."

You turn around abruptly. "W-what? No, I can't do that."

"Why not?" Taehyung shrugs casually. "A good swim is a nice way to clear your head. And don't worry, I won't drown you or anything."

You aren't worried about that.

For some reason.

But you still don't think swimming in the middle of the night is a good idea whether he's your superior or not.

But Taehyung isn't a man who takes no as an answer.

He kicks himself out the pool and the next thing you know, he's wrapping his wet body around yours and dropping the both of you straight into the deep pool.

He watches you struggle from down there, a nonchalant expression resting on his face while your eyes are squeezed shut as you try and fail at getting air again.

So Taehyung swims on over and takes you in his arms where he swims back up and lets you breathe again.

You gasp for air while he holds you and lets you sit against his strong arms.

It takes a moment but you manage to come back to him eventually.

You don't rush to yell at him like he expects you to. You don't even make a scowl.

You just rest your hands against his shoulders, holding on tightly and panting and coughing because you don't know how to swim and the deep water scares you.

He's got to admit though, you look quite pretty all wet like this, resting against his hold, clothes completely drenched.

"Um..-"

He adjusts his hold and your face comes closer to him than the two of you expects.

Your face flushes some more, nose slightly touching, and your eyes gaze into one another under the bright moonlight from above.

"...hi," you squeak.

Taehyung laughs. "Hi."

"It's um...cold."

"Is it?" You hum. "I like swimming in the cold."

"Do you often swim at night?"

He nods. "It's nice after a day of...you know what. It's relaxing."

"Won't you get a cold?"

"I have thick skin, little one." You sneeze right then and he chuckles. "But it looks like you don't."

"I'm sorry," you say as he swims on over to the edge of the pool, "for this and for interrupting your time here."

The man shakes his head assuringly as he settles you on the tiles of the pool. "It's nice to get a visitor every once in a while. Can you stay a little longer?"

You blink. "You want me to?"

"I do," he hums. "Besides, you don't have extra clothes and the boss wouldn't want his floors wet."

You bite your lower lip. "Right."

"There's some towels over there and you can wear my clothes."

You look on over where there's a racket of the white towels and his clothes hanging. But is it right? "I..shouldn't."

"Why not?" He asks, stroking back calmly. "Take it or you'll catch a cold staying here all drenched."

It takes a few more moments of hesitation but you eventually give in and does as he's asked.

The night is a little less lonely as you sit beside the pool, watching as Taehyung floats around on his back, eyelids closed, with a soft tune humming from his throat.

.

.

"Hey, you okay?"

You look up at the sound of Jungkook's voice who walks into the main living room, a face of concern resting on his face in this late afternoon. He's gotten gentle towards you ever since that night.

"Um..why do you ask that?" You reply with your own question while spraying the coffee table and wiping it down.

"You look tired," he states. "Jimin says he doesn't see you sleeping a lot..or ever."

"I'm fine," you insist.

But he goes on anyways. "Is it the atmosphere? Or maybe you're one of those people who needs something in order to sleep? Taehyung can't sleep without hugging something or someone."

What a cute revelation.

"Do you need to hold something? But then again, you've got pillows." You don't know why he's acting so concerned. "Or maybe you need a physical someone to hold you?"

And if you do, what will he do?

"Or do you need a nightlight?"

"It's okay," you tell him. "I don't need anything."

"But you can't sleep."

"I'm used to it."

Jungkook frowns. "That's not good, Y/N. You need to sleep." He pauses for a brief moment. "Why can't you sleep?" You don't answer him right away so he calls your name sternly. "Y/N."

You may have gotten a little closer but you still work for him, and you and your father's life is indebted to him.

"I get scared."

It's an honest truth, something that scares you for even speaking off it.

He settles down before you, taking your hand from mindlessly wiping at the same spot for the past few minutes.

"Of what?" He asks, silently hoping for you to meet his gaze.

But you don't.

It only falls to your lap.

"The nightmares," you say.

He hums as if he understands and he probably does. A young boy walking into the mafia life. His nightmares may be a little different from yours but nightmares are all the same.

Leaving you afraid, scared, trembling, and weak.

Too weak and terrified to close your eyes again. Afraid for the darkness to consume you all over again.

Even the drowsiness is not strong enough to pull you back asleep.

"What are they of?" He carefully asks.

"It...varies." You stare at the hand that holds yours. "Sometimes it's of me, trapped and vulnerable. Sometimes it's of me dying. Sometimes it's of my father, or my mother."

You've never spoken of your mother except now.

He doesn't think he's ever heard anything about your mother before. Not from your father, not from Namjoon who holds records of your father.

Even the news that had once made your family relevant to the world has never said anything about your mother.

"She left us, thankfully, and I think that she's happier now so I don't really care that she ran away. But sometimes I dream back to the days when things were rougher. Rougher for her and I couldn't do anything to help. When she ran, I was about twelve then. She wanted me to go with her but back then I cared for my father's mentality and what he'd do if the both of us were gone. He wouldn't do well, he grew sick then. So I escaped last minute when we got on the train and made up excuses to my father not to hunt her down."

"Y/N..."

He squeezes your hand and holds his other one up to your face, brushing away the tears you hadn't realized had escaped.

"Jungkook," you hold the hand that touches your face, "I don't think my father is going to pay back what he owes."

"Yeah," he sighs, "we had a haunch since it's been months."

"Are you...angry?" You ask worriedly. "Is Namjoon angry?"

"There's a good and a bad," he tells you. "The bad thing is that there was a lot of money he borrowed from us. The good thing is," his gaze falls soft your way, his hand grazing your cheek in a gentle manner, "I don't care because he won't be taking you back any time soon."

"What if...what if I don't want him to take me back...ever?"

"Are you afraid of him?" You nod, lips quivering and honestly he knows that was a foolish question to ask. "Oh baby, come here." He takes your body, letting you settle against his lap, letting your head rest against his chest, and holds you there as you cry softly. "It's okay, you have us now, you have me." He strokes your cheek, the same one that filthy old baster had licked upon and though Jungkook feels angry for him and your father, he keeps himself calm for your sake.

"There's no need to be afraid anymore, baby." A gentle promise that makes your heart smile and ache all at the same time. "Even if he does ever pay us back, I won't let him near you, you got that? You don't have to worry anymore. I'm right here."

.

.

You go missing a few days later and it creates sets of panicking emotions.

"The security cameras didn't catch her anywhere outside," Seokjin claims. "She has to be somewhere in this house. Y/N can't just disappear like that."

"Look around," Namjoon orders and they all begin to split up.

He walks into the library minutes after searching a few other places with Jimin, running around, calling your name. The library is one of the largest rooms and Namjoon curses under his breath because he knows he should have checked here first.

The aisle that holds that mythology book you like so much.

And he does find you, sitting in the dark room, head against the book shelves.

He almost shouts aloud, afraid you had fainted or something, but then he hears a soft snore and he realizes that you've just fallen asleep.

"Hyung, have you-" Jimin pauses when he finds you as well and the two of them both lets out sighs of relief.

"Inform the others," he orders as he walks over to you, kneeling on the floor in front of you.

You're in a deep slumber but he's sure you're neck will be tense if you don't move in to a more comfortable position so he maneuvers you carefully from the support of the shelves to his own chest.

You stir a little and he hushes you softly.

"It's the first time I've seen her sleep," Jimin says in a low whisper as the two of them watch you.

You look so vulnerable.

Peaceful and lovely laying in Namjoon's arms.

But then your face distorts, brows creasing, lips pressed against one another. Your hands come to rest against Namjoon's shirt, clenching onto it tightly, soft whimpers falling from your lips.

There are two stray tears that falls, your head reaching to nuzzle into the comfort of the boss's neck.

"What happened?" Yoongi asks when he and the rest shows up not long after.

"Nightmare," Jimin guesses by what Jungkook has told him.

Namjoon strokes your cheeks gently, brushing away your tears, shushing you lightly. "Wake up, baby," he repeats a few times until you finally open your eyes, the nightmares too hard to bear. More whimpers leave your lips as you sob a little more.

So he holds you a little tighter. "It's okay, baby, I'm right here. I've got you. You're okay now, baby."

.

.

"Your father has gone off my radar."

"O..oh..."

You don't know what it means for you, what any of it would mean. But standing here in front of Namjoon's desk, it scares you a bit.

"I assume the man is trying to escape from the consequences of his actions, not that it's going to help him. If anything, this only makes things worse." He watches you steadily from where he sits, leaned back against his chair, one leg over the other. "Can you tell me where he might be?" He asks slowly. "A safe house? Headquarters? A vacation home he may escape to?"

"There's...a place," you say hesitantly. You aren't sure if your father will be happy about this but then again, is he ever happy when it comes to you? "He has a safe house on Jeju Island."

You tell him the address and he jots it down in a notepad.

"He's not going to give up that easily but neither will I. What's his weakness, Y/N? You must know that, right?"

He hopes and he doesn't hope that it will be you.

For one, if you are then it means he cares more about you than what he shows. But it'll mean he won't be able to get through to the man because he knows he will not use you as a pawn in this game. And two, if you aren't then he'll understand just how bad of a human this guy really is.

Worse than him, a mafia leader.

Because at least Namjoon has a heart.

"He cares a lot about his business," you tell him. "It'll hurt him if his business falls and he goes bankrupt."

Business over his own daughter.

What a piece of crap.

"What..." you hesitate again, afraid to look up since the very beginning when you've entered his office. "What will...you do..?"

"Will it hurt you to see him fall?" He asks you, observing you carefully.

There's a moment of silence as you think it over.

"If he falls...will I fall along with him?"

"No," he's quick to say. "Your father doesn't own you, Y/N, this is your life whether he likes it or not. When I'm done with him, you can choose whether to stay or leave. Either choice you make, I'll make sure you will never fall to the position I hope to break him at."

A choice at your own life.

How different has life finally changed for you.

You take another moment to think again. "Do you believe I should still care about him?"

"He doesn't deserve any of your love and care," he tells you honestly. "He deserves to rot away in hell."

Yet he is still your father.

A father who hurts, a father who doesn't care.

"It's your call, baby."

Your call.

No one has ever given you a choice at anything. First your father, and then the society he had place you in.

Serving as the perfect daughter. Smart, pretty, dependable, and listens well. You don't speak up for your own self even when others criticize you. You don't make friends because your father forbade it. You've never fallen in love, never felt love of any sorts.

And now Namjoon, mafia boss, leader to a ruthless, dark gang, one many fears, is asking for your call.

But you don't know what to do.

"I-I'm sorry, I...I don't know," you admit.

Yet Namjoon remains patient.

"Do you wish to live an independent life, Y/N?" He leans away from his seat, legs uncrossing, elbows resting upon his desk. "Without having to worry about your father or anyone else but yourself? Live your own life, care for your own self and just yourself."

It may sound better than living with your father but it sounds lonely.

So lonely.

So you shake your head. "I want to stay," you tell him and he raises a brow, a bit surprised.

"You don't hate it here?"

You shake your head again. "I like talking," you say, "I like having someone else to talk to. I don't wanna be alone anymore, it scares me."

"This world I live in should scare you more."

"But you're more human than my father can ever be and you care more than what my father can ever give. I-I'm sorry if I'm being selfish, I just-"

"You deserve to be selfish once in a while."

He stands from his chair, rolling it back to take slow steps your way. You look up, meeting his gaze, those intense, piercing gaze, and the world seems to fall silent.

All but the intense beating of your heart.

All but his slow footsteps making his way towards you.

It stops when he's just a few inches away, his height hovering over you and you feel oh so small.

"Human," he says lowly, "no one's ever called me that in a while. It sounds refreshing, like I actually have a heart."

"But you do," you say and point right at his chest. "It's right here."

Namjoon chuckles. "Yes," he hums, taking your small hand into his own, "it is." Your heart skips a beat. "I believe the members won't mind another one added to the family."

"And...you?"

A smirk dances on his lips. "Isn't it obvious? Of course I want you to stay." You let out the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding onto and he finds it amusing yet sad. "I'll take care of your father," he tells you, a hand reaching out to stroke your soft cheek, "just stay with the maknaes until we get back, alright?"

You nod at his words and he smiles, patting your head.

"Good girl."

.

.

Three days later at around 3 am, the door to your room creaks open and you turn from the window to find Hoseok standing in your doorway.

"He's dealt with," the man informs you.

Black suit on, a messy hairstyle yet he still manages to look good.

More than good.

You don't know what to say, how to deal with this. On one side, this is your fault, you've exposed his weakness and location. Your own father.

But on the other side, he's never treated you as human, never treated you as the daughter you deserved to feel like.

So maybe this is the right thing? Staying in a large mansion bigger than yours once was, living a life far better than your father who...who knows what's happened to him exactly.

"He isn't dead," Hoseok tells you, "but he probably feels that way at this point."

"Did he...mention me?"

A part of you still has hope that he has some humanity left in him, wondering whether he's asked about you, whether he's worried what will happen to you.

And Hoseok sees that without you voicing your thoughts so he keeps the story to himself.

You don't need to know how your father only belittled you some more, or blamed you, calling you plain useless, and not caring about what they'd do to you from now on.

Yoongi punched him a good few times for that.

You didn't deserve such words and the old man doesn't deserve you.

So Hoseok just remains silent as he walks through the door, watching you steadily from where you stand.

He stops where you are, brows furrowing at the sight he sees. "You're tired," he says softly with a hand going on to stroke your cheek.

You take that hand, hold it between yours. "You're cold, Hoseok."

Small hands caressing his, rubbing it to give it your own warmth.

"Sleep, sweetheart."

He presses a kiss against your forehead. A soft kiss.

So maybe it's what makes you a little braver to rest yourself against his chest, against his hold.

He's cold but you welcome it.

"Thank you, Hoseok."

.

.

"You didn't come back last night," Taehyung smirks at his hyung's way when he walks into the kitchen, hair ruffled and messy from just waking up.

Hoseok doesn't hide it. "How could I?" He says, shrugging. "I wanted to make sure the little one fell asleep."

Fresh morning light filters into the room after years of living in just the darkness. Coffee beans and scrambled eggs filling the room.

Yoongi takes a sip of his hot drink with eyes checking the clock that reads somewhere around nine. "She finally slept."

"So what'd you do to the old man?" Jungkook asks.

"Left him to rot away like the life he deserves," Seokjin says bitterly.

"And Y/N? The media isn't going to try and get into her life are they?"

"I've dealt with them last night," Namjoon tells him. "She can live a peaceful life now."

"Not entirely," Jimin points out with a light scoff. "Since when have our lives been peaceful?"

"Well," Yoongi shrugs, "at least there's some light now."

Footsteps are heard, coming from afar, nearing and nearing, and they almost consciously reach for their guns but the steps are two soft for anyone threatening.

Too soft.

And quick.

You run in, stopping at the sight of them with a soft gasp and Jimin stands from where he sits to instantly rush to your side.

Tears fall from your eyes. You're scared, the nightmares making you feel terrified.

"Hey, it's okay, baby," he holds your face, brushing the tears away, gives you kisses on both your eyelids as the rest joins to surround you with worry. "It's okay. We're right here, baby. You're alright now. You're okay."

.

.

"Jin...?"

He hums, asking you to go on when you walk into his office hesitantly, eyes never straying from the computers that surrounds his office, fingers typing away with codes of black and green letters rushing through the screen.

Something you can never come to ever decipher.

"You..you're good with...tracking people down...right?"

He hums again and you fall a little more hesitantly this time.

When he doesn't hear your voice again after a few long seconds, Seokjin stops typing and turns his chair around to face you. "What is it, little one?" He asks. "Do you need me to track someone down?"

His brows are a little furrowed, hoping you don't mean your father. The same one who unfortunately doesn't care much about you.

He doesn't understand why you had the heart to stay and not run away, but then again, perhaps there was no escape.

After all, where would you have gone? He just wishes you hadn't loved him as much.

But the words that comes out of your mouth is something entirely different from what he expects.

"I want you to find...my mother." He stares at you for a moment, a little taken back, and you swallow a lump in your throat. "I just need to know if she's alright," you tell him. "At least then," you pause, "hopefully...another nightmare may go away."

The nightmares, right.

"I just need to know."

He lets himself take a breather, arms opening up for you. "Come here, sweetie." He snakes his arms around your waist, allowing you to fall against his lap. A hand comes up to your hair, fingers playing along a few strands. "If I find her, what will you do? Will you go to find out?"

You're adorable with the slight pout of confusion on your face. He just wishes you smiled more often.

"...may I?"

He gifts you a soft smile, planting a kiss on your temple. "I'll come with you, alright?"

You nod, knowing it'll be better that way. "Thank you, Seokjin."

.

.

The street looks like a nice neighborhood. Suburban home miles away from Seoul.

Peaceful and friendly looking.

"There it is," you say softly under your breath as you stop walking, staring at the number of the house a few feet away.

It's a pretty home with a spacious yard, and suddenly you're feeling quite nervous. Small and timid.

How will she react? Will she even want to see you? You had deserted her on that train after all, left her crying and calling out for you from the window. Her shouts echoes in your dreams from time to time, moments you shall never forget.

You told her you'd head to the bathroom, only to escape, hoping she wouldn't catch you. So the instant her eyes met yours outside the train, all thoughts of watching her quietly leave were thrown out and you ran.

Ran and ran without giving her a chance to chase after you because the train had already began to depart.

You left her a letter in your backpack. She had asked you to pack, fully expecting a few clothes and snacks.

But the only thing in it was a photo of you and her with departing words in sloppy handwriting on the back, signed your name.

Would she forgive you for leaving without a proper goodbye?

Would she forgive you at all?

Seokjin takes your hand without a word, squeezing it for comfort as if he understands your thoughts and insecurities.

You look up at him, smiling, and his heart almost melts.

It's a little sad but you haven't smiled so much so he knows that this is good enough.

You hear voices, a cheery child laughing as she jumps and gasp as you grip onto Seokjin's hand tightly and rush to hide the both of you behind a fence.

There's a child with her parents, holding onto their hands as she skips happily.

Her father makes a joke and they laugh. Her and...

Your heart skips a beat, breath held back, tears forming at the brim of your eyes, throat clogged up, mouth feeling dry all of a sudden.

"Careful, sweetie," she tells the child just around seven years old. "You might fall if you aren't too careful."

"But you and Daddy will be there to catch me, mummy."

"Even so," she grins, picking her up in her arms, "I don't want you getting hurt, okay?"

"Ah, mom, you're always so worried about the slightest thing!"

Her father chuckles as he places a sweet kiss on his wife's temple. They share an understanding gaze, something the daughter will not come to comprehend just yet, and walk into the very home you had been seeking for.

Your mother is always worried about the slightest thing because of you, a young child who's often clumsy, a young child who should have never been exposed to the dysfunctional life of what was supposed to be a lovely household.

But she's escaped that.

Got a new husband, a loving husband, and another daughter.

Your half sister, your step father.

"Y/N?" He calls your name, one of the seven reasons why your life has gotten better, why you're saved.

So you turn to him, smiling sweetly even with tears falling away, and take his hand.

"Let's go home."

Home.

.

.

The sun has already set when the two of you return, lights by the entrance doorway flicking on when you and Seokjin walk up the doorsteps.

The doors open, revealing Yoongi who has on a grumpy frown.

"Where have you been? It's late and you never answered. Do you have any idea how-"

You wrap your arms around him, falling against his chest, and he freezes up, eyes blinking in confusion, looking at his hyung for an explanation.

Seokjin just smiles and though he remains perplexed, he allows your warmth to welcome him and pulls you in closer.

"You okay, baby?"

You nod against him. "Hungry."

He chuckles lightly.

.

.

2 am.

There's a knock at their door and Taehyung comes to open it.

You stand there, looking up at him looking oh so small and adorable. There's hesitation in your eyes, small body rocking slightly from side to side, unsure if this is the right place to come to.

"Nightmare, sweet one?" He asks you.

You shake your head, rubbing at your sleepy eyes. "Can't sleep, want my nightlight."

He tilts his head slightly to the side. "Nightlight?"

"You."

How cute.

It has him smiling no matter how hard he tries to hide it because he likes it. He likes the sound of that.

"Come in, then."

They're already settled in, just a lamp turned on by the bedside and you crawl in to the middle of the large bed.

"Sorry," you mumble quietly as you settle in between Jungkook and Namjoon who holds onto you securely.

Jungkook has his arms around you from the back, spooning you and pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder. "It's okay, baby, don't apologize."

"Sweet dreams." Another kiss pressed against your head, Namjoon pulling the covers up to your neck as your eyes slowly closes.

Your hear the light flickering off and you know you'll have a pleasant dream you haven't had in a long, long time.

"Thank you," you whisper into the quiet night, a confession just on the tip of your tongue but you know you don't have to say it aloud for them to understand.

And they don't have to say a word for you to know either.

[scarofthewind]

The Lone Wolf || Werewolf!Thomas x Reader

A/N: Part three out of four to the slasher boys AU, link down below! I hope you are all doing well and yes requests are open for those who would like to throw something in there! I was today years old when I realized that Thomas Hewitt has blue eyes.

Warnings: NSFW, R18+, blood, gore, biting, breeding kink, wet & messy, squirting

word count: 3.1k Tip Jar (every bit helps!)

Series Masterlist

“You should eat something now that way it’s easier during the shift.” You spoke calmly to your lover who was busy testing out the chain that lined the basement; the chains that would prevent him from hurting you. His warm eyes looked over to you and he nodded, laying the metal links on the ground and following you upstairs. You watched him eye the locks on the door, checking to make sure they were strong enough, “You’ve checked them four times since this morning.” He looked at you and sighed, you could tell he was nervous, he always was on nights with a full moon. 

“If I get out and hurt you-” He started but you shook your head and cupped his face. 

“We’ve done this a million times and nothings happened.” He leaned into your touch, a glint of worry in his deep brown eyes. “Who knows, wolf you may not even try to eat me if you happen to escape.” Patting his cheek lightly, you turned and walked to the kitchen to make something to eat. Thomas mumbled something to himself before checking to make sure he had everything ready for the night. His senses were heightened and it was hard for him to not jump clear across the room and take you against the counter; balling his hands into fists, he went outside to calm his nerves, also making sure he had the backup trap ready if he happened to get out. You watched him from the kitchen window with a sorrowful look in your eyes. Before he met you he didn’t need to do this because he didn’t care what happened to the people around him; but you were different. 

When you met, he was shifted, dark brown wavy fur and sapphire eyes staring at you intrigued by what it saw. You were a mortified lone hiker that just witnessed a group of people being torn apart by something inhuman. But there was something, some force of fate that drew you together. He never hurt you in wolf form that day and you doubted that he would ever, but you didn’t want to take the slight chance that he might. 

When you both sat down for the early dinner, it was quiet between the two of you. The nerves and impulses emitting off of him made you chew your food quietly across the table. You barely had time to put the dishes in the sink before he went to the basement and you followed knowing it was you who had to chain him down. Thomas hated making you do it but the chains being made of silver burned him a lot less if he wasn’t the one handling them. No words were spoken as he stripped out of his clothes, throwing them in a heap across the room, and sat down in the middle of the cold floor. 

“I hate this,” you said quietly, locking the chains around his feet, moving towards his hands. He cupped your face gently, giving you a knowing look. Continuing with his restraints, you cuffed his wrists and then put the last one around his neck. “This is animal abuse,” you joked and he quirked a lip at your comment, hiding a smug smile. 

Before he could open his mouth, he grimaced, grunting in pain as it ripped through him, something was off about this shift and it bothered him. Thomas quickly looked at you, “Go to the guest house.” 

You frowned, “Why? Is everything okay?” He wouldn’t look you in the eye as you asked and you bent down in front of him. His eyes were already that bright golden color you secretly loved. 

“Go, I’ll come get you in the morning. Make sure to hide your scent just inc-” He stuttered when a loud crack came from his back and he clawed at the ground in pain. “Go now!” He yelled and you jumped, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before running out of the basement. Thomas could hear you running around upstairs and then the front door slam shut as you left the house. Everything in him burned with a fire he didn’t recognize and it scared him. 

“This isn’t right,” he groaned as another spike of pain rushed through him and everything started to go black as the beast took over. He could only pray as he was closing his eyes that you would be safe.

Of course as you were in a rush to leave, you forgot to wear stuff that smelt like him. You didn’t realize your mistake until you reached the guest house, locking the door behind you and hiding in the bathroom. You could hear loud howls coming from the house and it made you shiver, knowing that he’d somehow gotten out. You tried to think of how he could’ve but the longer you thought it over the more confused you got. You’d locked every door and chained him up; the shift had happened quicker than before though and he had a look in his eyes that told you something wasn’t right. 

A howl echoed through the woods near the guest house and you held your breath, sinking down into the bathtub and turning the lights off. The sound of the front door crashing open had your heart racing in your chest. You could hear the scuffling of paws on the floor as they neared the bathroom, a sniffing sound coming from under the door followed by a low growl. Everything went quiet for a second before a large hole was scratched through the door and you scooted far away in the tub. You whimpered, hearing the beast growl, it’s eyes meeting yours from the other side of the door. That’s when your heart stopped and everything you thought you knew about what he was flew out the window. 

His eyes were blood red and glowing through the opening. The beasts mouth and snout were already covered in blood and the way it licked it’s lips you knew you were next. The window to the bathroom was already opened a smidge and before you could blink, your body moved on its own to get there. Your mind raced as you heard the door being ripped apart behind you, your feet pushing you to climb up onto the roof above you. You knew he wouldn’t fit through the window because of how big he was so you had an advantage getting up there. Just as you were about to climb fully onto the scratchy roof, a searing pain came from your leg and you tried your best to kick him off. 

Tears welled in your eyes and you pushed yourself up, getting your leg away from the beasts mouth and limping over to the chimney, sitting against it for a second to examine the wound. A sob escaped your lips as you looked at it, knowing damn well what it meant. You tried your best to stop the bleeding but the moment you put pressure on the wound you cried out in pain. You could hear him down below, tearing everything to shreds and growling loudly. You knew if you didn’t fix the wound soon you’d have more bad damage than good by morning but going down to face that monster was not something you wanted to do. 

A loud scratching came from the end of the roof behind you and you froze mortified that the creature was able to simply jump that high. There was a huff behind the chimney you were leaned against and a deep growl made the hair on your arms raise. “Thomas,” you cried, the wolf sniffing around the corner towards you. “Thomas please don’t,” you winced trying to move your leg towards you. “You’ll never forgive yourself,” you closed your eyes for a second, trying your best to calm yourself as the wolf came to stand in front of you. 

When you opened your eyes to look at the monster, you let out a sigh of relief seeing those sapphire eyes staring at you softly. There was a sense of guilt behind them and before you could open your mouth, your wounds were being treated to as the animals licked them carefully. “You didn’t recognize me,” you stated, realizing that was why it attacked. Maybe your scent wasn’t enough for the wolf to remember you; you were thankful your voice was what clicked for him. 

A soft sound of bones shifting made you look up to the man in front of you. Thomas’ eyes were wet as he faced the one thing he always feared; he’d hurt you. “I did this,” he frowned at his own words, examining your wounds and setting your leg down gently. His eyes met yours and you felt your heart ache. “I would’ve killed you, (Y/N),” he tried backing away but you grabbed him and used his sturdy body to pull yourself closer to him. 

“You didn’t realize it was me, Thomas. I’m fine,” You replied, cupping his face gently and watching his eyes flicker before settling with their natural color. 

“Don’t do that,” his voice broke, “Don’t act like this is okay, I bit you, you know damn well what that means.” He groaned, moving out of your grasp. 

“I do but I don’t care. Something was off about this shift, we both felt it but we couldn’t predict this would happen-”

“It wanted to kill you, even after smelling that it was you. What the fuck is wrong with me?” He grimaced, moving away from you. 

“Thomas stop,” you hissed when you tried to move, catching his attention for a second. “We’ll figure out what went wrong in the morning,” your heart ached when he shook his head, pulling at his roots. 

“I love you,” you cried, your heart breaking in your chest for him and the fear of him pushing you away, “Don’t force me out, I don’t know what to do without you,” Thomas whined at your words and seeing the tears fall from your eyes made him pull you against his chest, rubbing your head softly as he hugged you. “Don’t tell me to leave because I won’t.” You sniffled, gripping is shoulders tightly as he helped you stand. 

His chest rumbled with a growl at the thought of you leaving him, the possessiveness of the wolf inside him coming out. When he looked down at you and pressed his lips to yours, you could almost feel the grief inside him; you knew he’d blame himself until the end of time for hurting you. With ease, Thomas helped you back to the comfort of your home, making sure to take good care of your wound. He spent nearly an hour on it, being sure that it was clean and that it would heal nicely. When he was done wrapping it in gauze, he watched the way your eyes slowly closed, sleep starting to take over your mind. 

Shuffling you around on the couch, he laid with you pressed into his chest, not daring to turn again for the fear of his other half going rogue. 

He didn’t sleep.

***

You woke up around four in the morning, the small amount of light in the sky starting to brighten the living room. You could feel Thomas’ grip on you tighten when you moved your head up to look at him. His eyes were on yours in a second and he frowned, “Is it hurting?” He referred to your leg. Shaking your head you nuzzled his neck, breathing him in. 

“You didn’t shift again?” Your fingers danced across his bare skin, reminding yourself that he was nude. “You were stronger this time if you managed to break through all those chains and get past your traps outside,” you said quietly. 

“I didn’t recognize you, that’s not right, something had to have been off.” He replied; you could feel his heart ache. “I don’t know what to do,” he sighed, moving to sit up and rubbing his face with his hands. 

“Hey,” you sat up with him and cupped his face in your hands. “We have a month until the next turn, we will figure it out before then. Don’t worry about it,” his eyes stared into yours and he nodded, resting his forehead against yours. “Love you,” you said softly, watching his eyes crinkle as a small smile formed on his face. 

“Love you too.” Thomas pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your lips, a familiar feeling buzzing through him at god-speed. If there was one thing you both enjoyed about his shift, it was the sex. It was hot, messy and always left you bedridden for a couple of days; the last time it got out of hand and the bed broke, much to your genuine shock. Before he could pull away, you wrapped your arms around his neck, moving to sit in his lap. Thomas’ hands went to your waist and he groaned at the feeling of you grinding down on his slowly hardening member. “You’re hurt,” he grunted against your mouth as he moved to lay you on your back, moving between your legs. 

“I’m fine, I need you, Thomas,” you moaned when his lips went to your neck, immediately finding your sensitive spot and sucking on it. Your hands ran through his dark, curly hair, tugging gently on the roots as his hips worked against yours. The feeling of his hardened member against your thigh made you shiver. You paused to sit up and rid yourself of your bottoms, eager to feel his cock deep inside you. You made sure to be careful around your leg, slipping your pants and underwear off and letting them fall to the floor. 

Thomas made quick work of your shirt and bra, leaving your breasts open for him to fondle. Your nipple hardened against his touch and he brought one into his mouth, lightly nipping at it. The feeling of your bare cunt dragging across his cock made you moan lightly, your juices already spreading along his shaft. The side of your neck where he’d bit you to show that you were bonded to him for life, slowly burned with a feverish desire. Thomas’ hands left your chest, moving between your lower halves and tapping your thigh for you to sit up for a second. His hand gripped the base of his cock, directing the tip to your entrance before you sunk down on him. Your legs shook by the time you were fully seated on it, he was far deeper than you were used to and the feeling made your head buzz. 

Any other time of the month, Thomas was usually quiet when having sex. However, the minute his shift appears, he’s much louder. Possessive growls and rougher grips on your body, make it that much easier for your pussy to spasm around his cock multiple times. A sharp buck of his hips made you grip onto him quickly, rolling your hips in time with his movements. Tilting your chin up, Thomas pressed his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he moved faster, pushing you down on your back before leaning over you and thrusting like a mad man. 

His mouth never left your skin, littering it with bruises and small bite marks that you knew would heal over time. When he moved to your neck, his teeth grazed the bite mark that bonded you, the scars were pale against your skin. His tongue laved over them, easing your mind before his teeth pressed into the wound. You winced, a small whine escaped your lips but the way your cunt tightened around his cock gave him the okay to keep going. Sinking his teeth in further to re-puncture the old scar, he fucked you deeper, moving your legs around to hit that one spot inside you that had you seeing stars. 

The obscene amount of noise that was coming from your lower half made you flush, your juices running down the curve of your legs and ass, onto the couch below. A low growl came from the man as he removed his teeth from your mark, licking the blood off his lips and your skin before hiking your legs up to the one position that really made your pussy drench his cock. Your knees were practically by your ears as Thomas split your open, his cock thrusting into you at a steady but rough pace. “Cum inside me please,” you begged, looking up at him through watery lashes, the pleasure making everything intense. “I want your children, Thomas. Please, cum inside me,” you whimpered when he groaned deeply, his cock twitching inside you. 

The simply thought of you being pregnant with his children made his heart flutter. His eyes focused on the way your pussy was creaming around his cock and the sight of his member bulging your stomach every time he moved. With rough fingers, he moved his hand to your clit, rubbing tight little circles around the hardened bud and watching you squirm. 

It didn’t take long before the white hot pleasure of euphoria shook through you, your body convulsing for a second as he fucked you through your first orgasm of the night. “That’s my girl, can you cum again for me?” His voice made you shiver and you nodded as your thighs shook. He leaned his weight down a bit more and you knew exactly what he was trying to do the minute he did that. 

“It’s going to make a mess,” you warned, looking at him as he smirked cheekily. “You’re cleaning the couch then,” you moaned as a particularly hard thrust made your cervix throb in pain. The way Thomas’ voice grew louder made it a sign to you that he was close and you wanted nothing more than for him to pump you full. Pressing his mouth to yours, he growled at the feeling of your gummy walls sucking him in. He moved his fingers back to your clit and worked his magic, leaving you a trembling mess as he brought you close to the edge again. 

“You ready, pretty girl?” He asked, watching you nod before he rubbed your clit harshly, your walls tightening around him to the point where he was cumming within seconds. The feeling of his cock being drenched by your quivering little hole made him pull back for a second and watch as you squirted around him. Thomas let out a groan as he let out everything he had, watching your stomach bulge slightly before he let you move your legs down. 

“I hope this time it works,” you panted, referring to the cum sticking to your inside walls. Thomas chuckled, pressing open mouth kisses along your face before connecting his lips with yours. “I love you, Thomas.” You said gently, looking up into the deep blue eyes you adored so much. 

“I love you too,” He replied, kissing you once more.