#that it wouldnt change my mind much if he had touched further up her chest

[dwtdog]

Yeah im also surprisingly chill about this tbh. Im in general confused about everything she said in her stream because there was a lot of backtracking, even more inconsistencies and questionable stuff said so whatever 🤷 just gonna wait on George because he stated that he didn't assault anyone and also said that in his book whatever he did was 'tame' and i dont think groping a boob (under a sports bra??) fits into that statement so?

honestly, i feel like george's best course of action is just. not responding. caiti doesn't want his apology, and she didn't exactly set out a clear path forward for him, so i'm not sure what mroe he can do besides acknowledge his mistakes and do his best to move forward

[jangofctts]

Sink Your Teeth In (Part 2 of Are You In Or Out?)

Rated: Explicit (Paz is in the next chapter DONT WORRY)

Word count: 7.5k

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, the cold?, reader is in PERIL YET AGAIN, vaginal fingering, oral female receiving, unprotected vaginal sex (wrap them schlongs yall), brief hand jobs, swearing, angst, very VERY light choking, din is a sub sorta?? bottom energy 

Summary: Well. At least you aren't dead. After a solo hunt gone wrong, you’re dumped in a cave on Csilla. Hopefully someone finds you before you freeze to death.  

a/n: hey…so uh. HOW ABOUT THAT EPISODE HUH?!? aheM anyway--yall I just wanna thank everyone first off for all the love and support!!! I see all of your comments and tags and AH IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE ALL OF YOU GUYS. ALSO SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO @djxrxn​ THIS WOULDNT HAVE BEEN DONE WITHOUT YOU BB GORL

Well—

Here you are. 

Taken by surprise by another bounty, further proving how irrevocably incompetent you are at this line of work. You blame the binders. An older, clunkier model—easy to pick if you’re clever enough and yes. Maybe you should’ve asked to borrow a carbonite chamber, but hey—where’s the fun in that? 

Not much, as it so happens. 

Your feet had been kicked up on the dashboard, dozing and unaware of the freed bounty creeping up behind the pilot’s seat. Something delightfully blunt smashed against your temple, jolting you into a brief conscious state where the only thing you could think before passing out again, was a resounding— 

Oh, fuck me sideways with a fucking lightsaber—

The rest is hazy. A blur of colors and the fuzzy shapes of your bounty’s face sneering in amusement when she bound your wrists and ankles and left you in the cargo hold. Vaguely you recall your ship being commandeered, swung into an unidentified atmosphere and landing on said unknown planet Or planets. Planet hopping to cover up a trail. 

The bitter cold, sharper than a needle through skin is what shook off the last dregs of unconsciousness. The bounty’s hand was hooked into the collar of your clothes, dragging your limp body through drifts of snow and ice. You would’ve fought back—should’ve even though each extremity felt like a numb block of lead. Not very useful in a fight…

Soon, the snow turned to mud and the mud to stone as a mouth of a cave slid over the impossibly blue sky. Dumped in a cave, and left to die—perfect way to bite the dust. Your bounty turned captor lands a sharp kick to your ribs, mouthing some curse in a language you don’t understand, and left without a second thought. 

Seems about right. You have a knack for lying helpless and half dead in places you ought not to be in. 

Two days and counting, you’ve been holed up in this blasted cave with no food, no supplies and no comlink. It’s going be a fucking chore to find you—nearly impossible. You’re lucky in that aspect you guess—you know enough bounty hunters to sniff out a a needle in a whole stack of needles, so all it is is a race of time against the elements and how long it takes for one of them to notice.            

Aeris is no help. He left a day before you had—hired as personal protection for some syndicate leader halfway across the galaxy. Ives is in a similar boat, off-world and unavailable to drag your ass out of the hole you’ve dug. Which leaves…

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose between your forefinger and thumb. Anytime you even think of those two a migraine cumulates behind your eyes. It’s…it’s not like anything bad happened in the aftermath—there’s been no fallout or arguments with barbed words as weapons. It’s been quiet. Like stepping onto a sheet of cracked transparisteel in a library full of tight-lipped academics. 

The questions lurk under the surface of every conversation and longing look cast your way. You’ll need to clarify and sort things out eventually, but fuck—it’s such a mess of frazzled heartstrings and fine strands of impossible thoughts that lead into an endless void of doubt. You’re shoving that emotional time bomb to the very back of your mind—everything is still so raw…  

So you ran. 

Picked up any and all jobs that the Guild provided just to escape the looming decision of confronting a certain pair of Mandalorians. That and with them having their own tasks to complete, it was rare to see them, let alone together in the past few weeks. A simple run in here and there in the halls of the Covert, but you were too busy to stop and chat—forced a chaotic schedule upon yourself as an excuse to avoid staying in once place at a time.    

Coward.

The word knots in your stomach like gnarled tree roots escaping their prison of dark soil on untrodden land.  

Maker—how did everything become so tangled? 

You draw your knees up to your chest and release a long, drawn out exhale that echoes through the cave. You sniff and force the swell of tears that prick at your eyes away. You’re pretty sure they’ll freeze and you’re not hoping to find out. 

The only good thing about being dropped on this Maker-forsaken, wasteland devoid of anything but snow, is the free ice for the nasty gash on your forehead. A nice little parting gift. 

It’s shallow…you think—it stopped bleeding the night before and is now just a scabbed over, tender wound that throbs whenever you move your head too fast. Concussion maybe—a mild one.  

Maker willing when someone finds your sorry ass they’ll have bacta. Or a blanket. Either would be peachy.     

Sitting up with a wince, you shuffle to the mouth of the cave for the thousandth time and scour the skyline for a familiar ship. Or, any ship really. The only thing you do see is a lonesome wisp of cloud against the grayish blue sky much to your chagrin. You scowl and stalk back into your little hovel and slump back onto the ground. 

The hours drag on, the watery light of the dying sun barely doing anything to warm you. Sulking is hardly what you should be doing—not great for the burdened mind and all that, but ah, it’s so fun to wallow in misery. You curl your knees up to your chest and you must slip into a doze because when you’re snapped back into the present, footsteps punch through the frozen tundra outside your cave.  

Adrenaline crackles down your spine—the bounty changed her mind. Ultimately decided she’d be safer in the long run with you dead. Fine.

If this is where your grave is going to be, might as well get in one or two punches. What’s another black eye anyway?

A shadow flickers at the mouth of the cave, curling around the wall as she draws closer. A brown boot kicks through the snow and— 

“Changed your mind? I—“

Your words die on your tongue as relief floods your veins. Din Djarin stands before you, a sight for sore eyes in these trying times. 

Frost glitters on the burgundy chest plate, glinting in the dim sunlight that touches the mouth of the cave. A delicate feathering of the dainty crystals that no high end lace maker could ever hope to mimic curls up the front of Din’s visor and eats away at the edges of his cloak. His heavy step forward reverberates off the walls, some of that ease replaced by the prickle of dread. His silence is unnerving. 

“Din,” you say again, just so he’ll say something. “I can—“

You move to stand, but he interrupts with a halting;

“Sit.”       

Your mouth snaps shut and you drop back on the floor. This…is not good. His footsteps are heavy as he approaches you and every muscle in your frame tightens like a fist wrapping around your ribcage and squeezing. The precise edges of his helmet are not a forgiving sight and even when he kneels onto one knee you have to resist the natural urge to flinch. Like this, despite hunching over, Din is broad. All hard muscle and sinew amplified by the bulky layer of beskar.   

Your tongue runs over the insides of your teeth as you track his hand that he thrusts foreword. You hiss and jerk away at the sudden needly pain when his gloved thumb finds the edges of your head wound. A low sound of disapproval filters out through the helmet in a low metallic buzz. 

“You won’t need stitches,” he says. Din reaches into one of his various supply pouches and pulls out a tiny vile of bacta. He casually pulls off his right glove, unscrews the vile and smears the bacta over his thumb. This time you don’t make a sound, even though your nerves scream at the razor like sensation of his thumb working the bacta into the damaged flesh. He doesn’t ask how the injury happened and you don’t care to tell him. There’s a time and place for stories about battle scars and near misses—it’s much too fresh to be spoken of right now. 

The brief torture finally ends after once last glance over for other presenting injuries. He finds none, replaces his glove and stands with a muted grunt. You know what’s next. You’d rather avoid it—you aren’t keen on the berating lectures—as deserved as they are.      

“I found your ship on Sato 3,” Din begins with a growl. “Imagine my surprise when I found your bounty selling it for parts.”  

Ah, there it is. You wince and study your fingernails. “Pile of junk anyway…”

“I thought you’d be smarter about these things,” he snarls, his sharp tone deadly enough to slice through bone. “Was the hole blown into your lung not enough for you?”

You swallow and bite your tongue.  

The bristling Mandalorian, continues and jabs an orange tipped finger at you. “You are reckless.”

Your chest constricts as you look away, shame blooming in the pit of your stomach.This is a new facet of Din you’ve never encountered. You aren’t naïve—even the most docile of people can harbor a temper, you know that. And you know Din is by no means passive—he’s an elite warrior equipped with a small arsenal at his disposal. You don’t expect him to coddle you or treat you different than any other companion; but…but it’s hard not to take his ire to heart. Not when it’s the kind of anger that boils deep in your chest and erupts with molten streams that leaves scathing wounds and blistered feelings.  

You chew your lip hard enough to taste blood and avoid his piercing gaze. You think if you do you might catch fire and burn to a crisp. “I’m sorry.”   

The meek apology settles in the air like a heavy fog. Din’s anger still brews, looming and dark but he reigns in his temper and switches out the searing cadence of his words with chilly informality. You’re not sure which is worse.   

“No more bounties.” 

“What?” Your brows knit together. The fuck does he mean.  

“No more hunts alone—“  

You interrupt with a scoff. “You’re grounding me?”

He strides across the small space and plants himself on the opposing wall. “Until you’re competent enough, you have no business being out in the field. You might as well be bait at this point.” 

“Competent.” You echo through clenched teeth.  

His helmet dips, leveling a steady glare of indifference. “The Crest is a half cycle’s walk from here. In the morning I’m taking you back to Nevarro.”   

“I’m not a child. You can’t just,” you throw your hands up in dismay, “ban me from bounty hunting.”    

Din’s armor clinks together as he moves to sit. He rests one elbow on his propped up knee, extends his other and rolls his helmet to meet your eyes. “Your actions reflect the Covert now. We can’t risk discovery because of one stupid mistake or a careless loose end.”    

That hadn’t even crossed your mind. Stars, you want to smack yourself. Your ship, as shitty as it was, hosted a good chunk of sensitive information, all encrypted and translated into binary. A mediocre slicer could hack through it in hours. Not exactly foolproof but hey, at least you had something. Good thing your bounty wasn’t in the market of selling stolen ships to the Empire. 

“Din?”

The Mandalorian makes no noise of affirmation that he heard you. You sigh and take his silence as a go ahead and clear your throat. “How long was I gone for?”

Here, in the cave it’s been nearly three days, but the rest of it you’re not exactly sure. Hunting the bounty down took up at least a week or two and even longer to capture her and there’s no accounting for the time lost after your ship was commandeered. Your teeth roll over your bottom lip as you wait for him to respond. 

“Almost two months.” He replies evenly. “Your transmissions were cut three weeks ago and I didn’t think anything of it. Comms are always patchy in Wild Space."

Leather creaks as his fist balls at his side. “You didn’t answer for days. Paz and I tracked the ship to Sato 3, but you weren’t there. Do you know how difficult it was to pick through all the planets recorded on your log?”

You blink and return to picking at your fingernails. 

“You weren’t easy to find, I—“ He severs the rest of his sentence with a crackling sigh and tilts his head back. “You’re lucky.”    

The hesitance lacing his words makes you bite your tongue, the snarky retort crumbling to ash in your mouth. Din doesn’t bother to filter his words—he’s blunt. Efficient and to the point when he does decide to speak. That…well that was different.   

He was worried—

You rub at your cheek—numb with the cold and curl into yourself. Din was worried. Easily the most feared bounty hunter in the parsec, worried that he couldn’t find you.   

A different cold—one that settles deep into the marrow of your bones and hugs your soul with a sheet of frost, makes a home in your heart. The severity of what could’ve happened replaces that sheen of hilarity and fuck. You were closer to freezing to death than Din finding you here—alone in some stupid kriffing cave.  

Somehow the idea of that is worse than the brief brush of eternal slumber you had on Nar Shaddaa. Up to that point you expected to die young—no harm and no foul in it either. You had no attachments, no debt to pay—a drifter in an endless galaxy.    

Now you’re here, buckling under the weight of mismanaged friendships and your uncanny skill at weaseling into any and all trouble. 

Neither you or Din jump to fill the silence. The ashes of disaster settle in nicely with the frozen echo of an endless winter.      

It’d been a couple hours shy from sunset when Din arrived, the sun providing weak light that hardly touched the mouth of the cave. Now as the shadows grow longer and with the temperature dropping, the two of you are swallowed up by the unyielding darkness of night. 

Din shuffles and fishes out the solar light from his supply bag. It clicks on and warm, orange light illuminates the cave. It bounces off his beskar, fracturing the light like a million tiny suns in the tempered metal and in the impossibly dark visor. He looks up, and tosses the light over. 

You catch it easily and despite the warmness of the light it emits, it offers no heat for your chilled fingers. You set it to the side and tuck your hands into your armpits. 

By no means is the cave warm—the natural thermal vents kept the ground dry and free of the ice and snow that rages outside, but it doesn’t protect you from the occasion chilly draft that cuts through each layer you wear. Then again, you weren’t planning on taking an unexpected vacation on Csilla. No time to plan really.  

You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest and cast a glance at your ever radiant ray of sunshine across from you.  

He looks nice and cozy—leaned back against the cave wall, one leg crossed over the other while his hands sit intertwined just below his navel. The beskar must provide insulation—maybe a fancy heater in that bucket of his, or maybe he’s just too stubborn to show anything other than indifference.   

Another bout of shivers tear through your frame and you’re certain Din can hear the enamel of your teeth clack together. You shove your hands deeper into your armpits and tuck your chin into your chest to preserve heat and pray that sleep isn’t far off—can’t be cold if you’re unconscious.    

Metal scrapes over stone as Din readjusts himself and you can feel him looking at you. It’s not a terrible weight to bear; intense and analytic, sure and in the past it would’ve unnerved you. Now, instead of it feeling like he were peeling back each fibre of your soul each time he stares, it’s familiar. A pattern of sorts—

It happens each time Din wrestles with an uncertain question. He deals in absolutes, and it’s no surprise he rarely knows what to say to you. 

“You’re shivering,” he states. You roll your eyes. “Are you cold?”

“Boiling, actually,” you snip. “Why else would I forget a jacket?”

A sharp hiss of air crackles through the vocoder. “Don’t get mouthy with me. It was a simple question.”

“Well—there’s not much to do about it,” you sneer, watching your breath condensate in the air. “I’m freezing, exhausted, and hungry.”       

You know you’re being snide—but your nerves feel like they’ve been severed at the root with a dull vibroblade. You have neither the time nor energy to spare for simple questions. Din should understand that—seeing as he’s a man familiar with short temperament.

The space between you is ripe with crackling tension, and maybe—if you weren’t so fucking cold—you’d play the mediator. Thread stitches into the gash you both sliced into your friendship, as small it may be. You’ve lost friends over less—this could end up no different.

You sigh and turn your head. This is a problem for tomorrow. 

Irritated and upset, you squeeze your eyes shut and chase after sleep. You slip in a doze faster than expected, any and all discomfort fading away a you toe the line between a deeper sleep and waking dreams. You think you imagined Din saying your name—Maker you can’t even escape him in your own fucking head—  

It doesn’t end—like a nagging buzz that swells until it’s right near your ear. Spite spurs you to ignore It and exhaustion convinces you to drift further away. That is, until a hand, gentle and warm curls around your shoulder. You once again hear your name rumble low through Din’s helmet, but it’s much too difficult to open your eyes. Why can’t he leave you be? You barely feel the cold now…

“Stay awake.” Din sounds distant, in some other plane of existence despite the steady hold he has on your arm. “Maker—you’re colder than kriffing ice.” 

“Go away,” you grumble through numb lips. Such a pest.  

He’s talking—but the words don’t make sense. Muddled—split between that hazy line of dreaming and consciousness where you can’t decipher what’s real. His hands however—you can feel those plain as day. A bare palm cups your cheek—shreds through the layer of frost you’re positive has crystalized over your skin and rouses you to a more coherent level of presentness.       

“Don’t quit on me yet—“

“Nah,” you mumble. “I’m hard to…to kill. L-like a scrap rat…”  

Din grunts in response. “Rat is a compliment. You’re more of a spider-roach.”

The ends of your mouth quirk. It’s the best you can do—a full smile just might push you to the brink of death.        

“C’mon—I won’t let either of us freeze,” Din sighs. His fingers find the magnetized latches on his cuirass and it slips off with practiced ease, the armored thigh plating following a moment later. He neatly sets it to the side and grabs his cloak to fasten it around you. With another sigh, Din shuffles in behind you and wraps an arm around your middle, nestling his legs and body snuggly around yours.   

Maker—you don’t have time to bother about the intimacy of this because all you’re drawn to is the furnace like heat. Fuck, he’s so warm. You have only a second to enjoy it before your body begins to thaw—bringing forth waves of achey pain.   

His chest molds to your back, both arms curling over your own arms that are scrunched up tight around your chest. You shake in his hold, vicious waves of cold clashing against his body heat—it hurts—like sticking your bare foot into hot coals.     

You squirm, little gasps of discomfort slipping out that echo around the cave. Din shifts, tucking you further under his body until he’s nearly crushing you. It’s a bit tricky to breathe like this but hey—you’re not complaining. Not when your nose is buried in his soft undershirt that smells purely of Din.   

Your fingers and toes still throb as they thaw, but it’s working. Cuddling Din Djarin to stave off hypothermia—sounds kriffing ridiculous. 

“You’re still shivering,” he says. “I might…”

Your breath catches in your throat as he trails off. “Might what?”

Another shiver wracks through your body as his frosty helmet catches on bare skin when he dips his head in embarrassment. You don’t quite catch what he says and he doesn’t bother to clarify. “Forget it.”  

You turn your head as much as you can, straining your eyes to meet the strip of visor. “Tell me.”

He mumbles under his breath again and cuddles closer, slotting his hips against your ass. “Might know…know another way to keep us warm…”

Oh. 

A spark breathes to life in the pit of your tummy. You wiggle onto your back, your nose brushing the vizor. “Does it involve me taking off my pants?” 

Din huffs, his hands, previously latched onto your hips, starting to crawl up your waist. “It could…”    

You smirk and rock your hips back, eliciting a low growl that rumbles through his chest. With your whine of approval, Din’s hand slips between your legs and gives the meat of your inner thigh a squeeze. You let your knees fall open as far as they can in this position and it’s all Din needs to cup your cunt through the thin material of your trousers. 

Crackling pleasure flood your veins as the heel of his palm grinds into your clit, and while the pressure is nice, it does nothing to satisfy. Only feeds the growing flames of desire with brittle kindling. 

You pull at his undershirt and whimper, thrilled once his deft fingers, calloused and thick unlace your pants and yank far enough down to fit his hand. His fingers trace your outer lips, a ghost of a touch as arousal swells in your stomach. He parts your folds once your wetness begins to dribble out and coats his fingertips with your arousal. 

Stars—you need him. You arch into him and whine. “Touch me. Din, please—“ 

You jerk as Din’s thumb swirls a slow circle over your clit, a rush of endorphins surging out like unrefined fire whiskey. Din’s head tilts to watch you writhe over his fingers and the sudden chill of his helmet touching the inside of your flushed neck steals away your next inhale. Goosebumps race down your entire being, adding to the influx of your excitement that pools in your lower belly.       

Your hands tangle into his undershirt, pulling him closer until you can’t find where he begins and you end. His heart pounds in his chest, thrumming to the dance of your own heart that yearns to break free from your ribcage. Your breath catches when two of his thick fingers tease at your entrance. Your walls flutter around him as the slip in easily.   

His fingers roll forward and stroke against something devastating inside of you, and he when his palm rolls back, it bumps against your clit with that divine firmness you need. Your cunt tightens around the two digits as they curl.  

“Fuck. Can you hear yourself?” He pants, groping your breast to elicit a high pitched wail. “You always make—make such pretty noises.” 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at his words and fuck. You’re already dipping head first into release. A moment later you’re arching into his chest as every muscle stiffens in a crescendo of bliss, your stuttered breathing harsh even to your own ears.  

Your quick pants fog up his visor as Din rests the crown of his helmet on your forehead, the metal a cool relief to your flushed skin. He slips his fingers out of your dripping cunt, your chest still heaving with exertion as the last strands of your high fizzle and ebb away. Din shifts and and snakes his fingers, still shiny and wet with your arousal, beneath the lip of his helmet and sucks them clean with an appreciative groan.  

“Fuck—“ You breathe, pushing your face into his hand as he cups your cheek. Din’s thumb brushes over your cheekbone and swings his leg over your hips to hoist himself over you. 

“Do you remember...” He starts, his voice buzzing through the vocoder. His fingers tickle down your cheek and trace the parted outline of your lips. “When you let me taste you?”

You nod, and it’s all you’re able to do. You’re not even sure you can formulate words, let alone voice them right now. 

Din’s thumb pulls at your plush bottom lip, and you can’t help but slide your tongue along the digit. He grunts and slips his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth. “I think about you every night…how you came on my tongue—”

Your stomach flips as a rush of arousal sweeps through your tummy. You groan and you’re half sure you’re gonna dissipate into the floor from how hot your cheeks burn. “Din—"  

He continues without missing a beat. 

“You were so fucking wet for me—dripped all over my hand,” he murmurs, nuzzling his helmet, still chilly and frosted over, into the crook of you neck.  “I want to do it again—can I?”

You’re nodding before he even finishes his sentence. He wasn’t the only one longing for his head between your thighs on those long nights apart. Remembering those plush lips and addictive touches could only get you so far and well—he’s here now. You said it once and you’ll say it again—there’s no chance in hell you’d be passing up this opportunity. 

Din lifts his head and as you watch the light glitter in the reflection of the beskar, a sudden stray thought ricochets into the forefront of your mind. “Din, the light—your helmet.”

He pauses, his body tensing as he mulls over his options. “It’s—I—it’s ok…It’ll be ok.”

Din inhales a stuttered breath and casts a brief glance over his shoulder. It’s a dim light, kicked into the corner and laying on its side. From this angle, his face would be partially obscured in shadow…but still. There are easier ways to go about this. Ways that don’t risk jeopardizing the very foundation of who he is—what he stands for and what he so devoutly follows.    

To say you know anything about his religion is laughable. Everything you know can fit on the back of a thumbtack and even still, you’re sure that half of that is still based upon rumor and speculation. But this—what Din is hinting at, you know is not something to be taken lightly. 

He’s stripping his soul bare for you—allowing you to glimpse at that bleeding heart of his he guards so securely within layers of flesh and bone and impenetrable beskar. Din is gifting you his trust and there’s no where else to put it except for the space beneath your breast bone.   

Yet, even still—this could mean nothing at all. You have no way to know the exact magnitude of what this means to him. If he’s alright with this, who are you to question?

He mumbles one last thing about the light and sits up. Goosebumps rush up your bare skin at the loss of the heavy warmth of his body. You whine and curl up closer to his legs, greedy for any spare iota of heat like you’ve been denied it your entire life.   

Maker you hate this fucking planet—   

Your attention snaps back to Din when he makes a noise of uncertainty. His hands are cupped around his helmet—hesitant, nervous and you suspect if Din’s hands weren’t plastered so tight around the metal, he’d be shaking. You chew on your lip and prop yourself up. 

Cautiously, so as not to startle, you reach up and curl your fingers around his wrist. You can feel his pulse thrumming through his veins—alive, flesh and bone like you. Not some heap of sentient metal built for the horrors of war. You don’t know why you do it—just seems right to pull the fragile and vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to you mouth. You plant a gentle kiss there and smile when he cups your cheek.           

“You don’t owe me anything, Din,” you say, staring into the darkened depths of his visor. “Least of all this.”    

Some of that tension held in Din’s shoulders melts. He utters something in that clipped language of his people, and the only thing you can make out is your name. He lurches foreword and fuck—you’re terrified for a split second he’s gonna cave your skull in but instead he lightly bumps the crown of his helmet over your forehead.      

“I want to. For you—only you.”

Din doesn’t leave any time to unpack all of that. He sits up again, wraps his hands around the beskar— 

The metallic thunk of the helmet reverberates through the cave like a crack of thunder.    

You were right. 

You can barely see his face—if you really look, you can see the murky outline of his nose, dark hair and a sliver of his tan skin that the light touches. Attractive—but you knew that already. You touch his cheek and smile, your thumb catching over wiry facial hair and soft skin. Din makes a sound low in his throat and pushes his cheek into your hand. 

“I still want to taste you,” Din says, his voice richer when stripped of that tinny vocoder. You like listening to him speak without it, you think, and it’s a damn shame you never get to hear it. “Please.”     

Before he can escape and fulfill that fantasy, you yank him into a blinding kiss. He kisses the same—all wild edges and with desperation lining each motion—but there’s a new found tenderness here. Like he’s savoring each gasp and every brush of skin you grace him with like it’s your last night left in the galaxy.   

He breaks away from your mouth and peppers kisses and nips down your jaw, then lower as you arch and expose the bare skin of your throat. There’ll be a plethora of bruises tomorrow, and with no hope to cover them either but fuck it—Din can leave as many hickeys and teeth marks as he wants. 

If not for the cold still latching onto your very soul, you’d ditch the shirt; give Din better access instead of him needing to shove a hand up under and grope at your breasts. He gives the fabric an annoyed tug, but it’s fruitless. There’s no use when there’s better things to be sought. 

He shoves your shirt as far up as it goes, shivering as he mouths down your stomach, licks around your bellybutton and sucks a bruise onto your hipbone. Your pants are already pulled halfway down—one sharp yank and they’re around your ankles and off in the next breath. 

Cupping your knees with both hands he gingerly spreads your legs and drapes them over his muscular shoulders. Din rubs his patchy haired cheek along your thigh and hooks his hands under your ass, his ivory white teeth catching the light as he smiles.  

“Fucking perfect—“ He groans, planting his lips over your inner thigh. His tongue swipes a wet line up, stopping just before your aching cunt to dig his teeth into the sensitive flesh. You jump at the burst of pain and shoot a hand down, tangling your fingers into the soft curls atop his head.  

Din grunts and jumps to your other thigh, leaving no inch of skin neglected and without evidence of his teeth and lips. By the time his thumbs touch the outer lips of your cunt, the aching need for him is burning you from the outside in. He has to still your twitching hips with a calloused palm, and only after you settle does he surge forward. 

His tongue meets your swollen clit, ripping a tangled cry from you vocal cords. He’s just as eager as the first time he tasted you, if not more—every action backed by needy abandon. He sucks at the bundle of nerves then sweeps his tongue lower. Din’s thumbs part your lower lips as he runs his tongue though your soaked folds, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit that send delicious sparks throughout your whole body. Little noises and breathy gasps fill the cave, encouraging Din to push his tongue deep into your aching entrance. 

Your hand fists into his hair as your hips stutter and rock into the searing heat of his mouth. The noises you make are obscene, and Din is no better. Each pass of his tongue over your pussy is matched with his own deep moans that vibrated against your clit. Fucking hell he’s devouring you alive.          

Your orgasm sneaks up on you, robs you blind and crashes over you in deep waves that drag you out to sea and never to be found again as you spill onto his greedy tongue. Your fingers are threaded tight in his hair as you squeak and press harder into his mouth, riding out your pleasure until it shifts and becomes raw and sore.  

Din doesn’t pause for even a second—all too happy to stay put between your thighs for eternity. Your legs are trembling when you force his head away, a nice, tingly warmth settling into your limbs 

A dark thrill rushes down your spine when he looks up, wild hair and mouth covered in your slick. If not for the low lighting you imagine his eyes would be glazed over and Maker you want him again. Din swoops down and presses his mouth to yours, the taste of yourself heavy on his tongue that slips past the seem of your lips. 

You whine after he breaks away and sits up—an opportunity for your eyes to roam down his body. He’s still got his trousers on, a considerable bulge tenting the front. With a smirk you reach up and grab a handful, delighting in Din’s startled grunt. “Easy.”

You flash him a wry smile and give his clothed cock a playful squeeze. “Take them off.” 

Din huffs and pulls at the drawstrings. “Needy.”

He says it with no bite and no coquettish retort on your end springs to mind—especially when his thumbs hook into the waistband and pull. A slow reveal of sun-kissed skin and a sparse happy trail that your eyes eagerly drink up. 

Din’s cock bobs as his trousers fall around his knees, tip shiny and wet and curling towards his navel. You bite the inside of your cheek and reach out, a rush of arousal pulsing through your core at Din’s low moan. He’s heavy in your hand, deliciously thick and throbbing—and all of it for you. 

Din gasps out your name as you lightly squeeze and stroke down, your pace dreadfully slow and teasing. Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this—a Mandalorian willingly on their knees for you.           

Your other hand slips up his chest as you stroke him, intent on grabbing a handful of his thick hair that curls softly against the column of his neck. Your fingernail lightly scrapes across his nipple and he sways, pitching forward before he catches himself and straightens. Din’s eyes are squeezed tight, chest heaving with shallow pants as a smirk tugs at your lips. 

“It’s ok, Din,” you whisper. “I won’t break.” 

Your fingers twist into the hair at the base of his skull and guide him back. He slumps forward with a sweet moan, laying his weight onto your body that you’re all too happy too bare. His nose is nestled into the slope of your neck as his hands lock around the dip of your lower back while the other cradles the back of your head, drawing you into a loose semblance of a hug. 

Something snaps and crumbles deep in your soul that bleeds the heartstring blues, humming with broken chords in the presence of Din’s soft fragility. Your hand moves from between his legs to instead wrap around the wide expanse of his back, squeezing him tight to your chest. You hold each other like there isn’t tomorrow to look forward to and you wonder if this is how it feels to fall apart. Two spinning halves of a supernova torn apart and destined to collide and shatter into a million fragments of dazzling light.  

Yes, you’re scared he might blind you or burn you with his brilliance, but you can’t look away.      

Your fingers crawl up his muscled thigh and settle on his hip. “Lie down for me?”

There’s no hint of hesitation or complaint as he maneuvers himself onto his back, patiently allowing you to clamber over his legs and straddle his hips. His cock rests on your inner thigh, pulsing and leaving a dribble of wetness every time it twitches.    

“Good boy.” It’s subtle but it ripples out like a heavy stone thrown into a still lake. Din shudders and says your name in a cracked whisper. He rolls his hips, both of you groaning at the sensation of his cock running along your dripping center.     

Another time for that game maybe. 

Your desperation is running hot and wild to have him inside you and you know he’s in a similar boat. You grab the thick shaft of his cock and grind the tip of him through your lips, breath hitching when it extracts such a perfect moan from the man below you. 

“Ride me,” he pleads, clamping his large hands over your hips. “Fuck—I need you.” 

How can you deny such a request?

You line the wide head up with your aching center and slowly work him in. Shivers wrack through you, and Maker—he’s splitting you apart, molding your insides to the shape of him. Beads of sweat dot your hairline by the time you’re seated fully on his member, the both of you pushed even closer towards madness.  

Din squeezes your ass and props his knees up, rolling his hips up into you. You whimper and tip forward, propping your palms over his chest as he sets the pace. You may be on top but there’s no changing the bold colors of power and lust that cloud his mind, fueling the brutal movements of fucking up into you. Your thighs burn already and Maker—why the fuck are you already tired? You’re not doing any of the work.  

Quicker than lightning, Din curls forward and manhandles you onto your back. You squeak as he grips your thigh and yanks it around his narrow hips, thrusting in deeper. His right hand crawls up the front of your shirt and wraps his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. His thumb hovers over the dip at the base of your neck but he makes no move to press down—just allows the weight of his palm to do the work. And fuck—it works. 

Choked garbles of his name pass through your lips as you buck and squirm in his hold, feeling your arousal begin to drip down the back of your thighs. You’re skirting the edge of sizzling release that alights your nerves with liquid wildfire. Your nails harpoon into the meat of his shoulders as your eyes squeeze shut. Din won’t allow it.      

“Look at me,” Din snarls, yanking your head back by your hair. “I want to—to watch you cum for me.” 

A blush scalds your cheeks but you listen. Your eyes flutter open for him, sliding to the dark shadows of his eyes that sweep you into their own gravity well with no hope to escape. You don’t mind. 

“You’re so g-good for me—always so perfect.”

White hot light bursts behind your eyelids, and that’s all it takes. Your body seizes, your cunt squeezing impossibly tight around his cock as you cum. This one is different—steals your breath away and leaves you a broken husk of a person lost in most delectable forms of agony and pleasure. The cry of his name pierces the air only spurring the Mandalorian into a jarring pace to seek his own peak of ecstasy.  

Din’s nose nuzzles into your neck, his pants hot and sharp against your flushed skin. “You f-feel so—fuck. Say—say my name.”

You leap to his request and with a playful nip to his earlobe, you whisper it to him with the sweetness of starcherrries and the promise of better things. 

He tips over the edge, his hips faltering into no discernible pace as he cums. Din buries his teeth into the skin below your jaw, a mess of whines and begging gasps of nonsense as he fills your cunt to the brim. 

Your harsh breathing mingles as you both lazily slip down from your high. He rests his head over your sternum, listening to your beating heart that drums in a wild staccato as your fingers carefully comb through his hair. If not for the ache in your hips you’d keep him here forever. Din pulls out and you both groan at the loss. 

He doesn’t completely move away and you’re glad for it. He brushes his knuckles down the expanse of your cheek and dots a tender kiss to your hairline. Your name rumbles low in his throat as he shifts lower and gives your ear lobe a playful nip. His stubble scrapes along your neck, and you can’t help but giggle and squirm—but the weight of his body keeps you pinned. Your name slips from his lips a second time, breathy and drawn out in a sweet sigh, like he’s savoring the sound of each syllable and roll of the tongue. 

Din lifts his head, only slightly—near enough that his nose bumps into yours and his lips scrape along yours that are still parted and wet. “I—can I tell you something?” 

You cup his cheek and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be quick—but instead he leans into it, guiding your mouth into a slow dance of sticky sweet movements that are caught in a slow draw, like crystalized honey abandoned in a glass jar. You’re enraptured by his touch—his skin mottled with scars yet somehow still unfairly soft. He smells of snow—like metal and soap and something gentler, that’s uniquely Din.            

Fuck—you can feel your mind slipping away, wrapped up so snugly in his presence you almost forget to answer. “Yeah—anything.”

Crackling static suddenly rips through the cave, startling you both. A distorted voice chatters on the comlink that lies forgotten beside your pants. It blinks and the transmission ends just as abruptly. With a sigh Din brushes it off and tilts his head to tempt you into another kiss but—

Whoever’s trying to patch through is persistent. 

His lip curls in a scowl and snatches the comm. “Jorhaa’ir.”

You only catch your name being mentioned twice as rapid Mando’a is exchanged. Aeris maybe judging by the tone, but no that’s not right.   

“Wait—is that Paz?”

The muscles in Din’s shoulders tense, confirming your suspicion.

“Is everything ok?” Din doesn’t resist you when you pry the comlink out of his fingers and patch in. “Paz?”

Your heart skips a beat. 

“There you are,” the comlink crackles and you smile. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” 

Stars—you didn’t think you’d miss hearing Paz’s voice. Your chest aches. 

The conversation is short, he asks you how you are and when you’re coming home and in the time it takes to answer, Din is peeling himself from your body. While you're distracted, he pulls on his pants and sits at the edges of your vision.

You both pretend when you say goodnight to Paz, return the comlink and crawl into his arms that nothing has festered with savage detachment. You don't remember to ask him what he was going to say and he lets you forget. The golden heart that bleeds molten ichor slips from your sight and becomes shut behind walls of beskar and bushes of thick thorns and overgrown ivy.         

He still holds you, but it’s the coldest you’ve ever been. 

Tag List: @teaofpeach @corrupt-fvcker @nelba @datmando @ben-is-a-hoe @dreams-like-clockwork @aeryns-library @auty-ren @huliabitch @anxiety-riddled-mando @phoenixhalliwell @cptnbvcks @thesoftdumbass @krissology @starlite41 @legally-a-bastard @basslinedweller @cloud-of-roses @elenamiria @goldafterglow @maybege @equalstrashflavoredtrash @wandxrlust @hdlynnslibrary @calamity-queen @sgtbookybarnes @pinkninja190 @lackofhonor @darthstyles @spacegayofficial @absurdthirst​ @blue-writes-a03​ @max--phillips​

[jojoreadwhat]

there’s nowhere that I wouldn't go. // h.s. x fem!reader • fluff

- hello lovies, long time no see. well i’m back with some things in the works. this is just a kickstarter and a introduction of what my work will look like from now. i hope you enjoy! -

y/n and harry get into a spat and sometimes space isnt the answer.

this is just full of angst and lots of fluff.

words;? semi-proofread sry. also shitty ending and it’s been a while so I’m rusty. I apologize in advance.

i listened to this

+

harry has been somewhat of an unofficial ambassador for the brand and was invited to a party supporting gucci and their new line launching this fall. giving you both access to material first hand, and you the honor of being his plus one, publicly debuting after two years together. dressed in the pieces sent with the invitation from head to toe. you had arrived fashionably late to the gathering, hand in hand on the gold carpet leading to the entrance of the beautifully architectural place the event was being held in. the interior of the place timeless and oozing in elegance. low lit from the gold sconces along the cream colored walls. white table cloths and golden runners, covering the round tables, topped with elaborate centerpieces filled with gardenias.

it all felt like a dream. indulging in the atmosphere to dress up to the nine’s, sipping on fancy drinks and dancing to the italian music echoing through the gallery. with the hundreds of people circling around harry and you both as swayed closely. feeling out of place and belonging all at once, harry noticed this often throughout the event. he could see the stars in your eyes as well as the restlessness about to descend. he made you feel like you were on top the world. his sweet reassuring gestures. soft hands firm across your silk covered back, securing you. harry’s rosy plump lips grazing your ear, muttering sweet nothings in his thick rasp voice and tickling your cheeks pink. reminding you that you were meant to be here with him.

until she interrupted.

you weren’t bothered at first, you were fully aware before tonight had arrived that she would be here. that she could possibly be a nuisance and want harry’s attention. and there wasn’t animosity towards her from you because without her and her letting go of harry, you wouldnt be here as his girlfriend.

that all changed after the night went on. you were exiting the ladies room when she was all over harry. she had pulled away when you came back to the picture but it didn’t stop there. when she brought up unnecessary past between him and her. being all touchy feeling and giving you a devious smirk as she went on. it didn’t help that she looked stunning, her golden blonde hair dancing along her glowing ivory skin and her jumpsuit accentuated all the right places. looking more suited as harry’s date and making your confidence tonight, deflat. at the same time you couldn’t blame her for being herself. you couldn’t blame her for wanting to weave her way back into Harry, even with you standing next to him. but the knot forming in your stomach at him not doing too much to defuse the interaction didn’t go unnoticed.

now bursting through the front door of Harry and yours shared LA apartment. irritated and ready to pop. you looked to any room to go to as long as you weren’t in the proximity of your boyfriend who you left in the driveway. you had just endured twenty minutes of arguing on the drive back from the party. your face felt hot to touch and you swore anyone could see steam leaving your ears.

you trotted up the stairs, your heels in hand, as you climb up to your bedroom. still internally fuming and spaced out in your own thoughts, you didn’t realize how close harry was behind. not hearing the door once it closed, instead his leather clad feet hitting the hardwood of the hallway to the room you were in. getting louder as they approached before halting.

“love, please.” he spoke first, he wasn’t expecting the night to end like this. the complete opposite to be exact. not standing in the doorway with caution as he watched not help you detangle yourself from tonight’s attire.

you were delicately loosening the straps of your dress to fall down your arms, trying to be purposeful with it while wanting to rip it off in anger.

“no.” simply stating, not making any contact as you held the now strapless dress to your bra less chest as you scrimmage through your tee shirt for a shirt harry’s to sleep in. “your actions spoke for themselves.” finishing then as you let the dress fall to the floor, rolling your shirt on to drop at the top your thighs. not giving harry an ounce to the imagination of what could’ve happened tonight.

Harry sighed, exasperatedly. catching from the corner of your eye him running his ring-covered fingers through his thick dark curls. pushing off the door frame before finally stepping into your shared bedroom. “I know and they were not truthful.”

“Ha, okay. Sure they weren’t.” you scolded, standing at your tall dresser as you took off your jewelry. shaking your head.

Harry was loosening up his bowtie, creeping closer to you before you turned to him. silently telling to stay put. “I mean it, I know that I didn’t act appropriately.” He owned, “But I didn’t know what to do! I didn’t know she was going to try all of that.”

you huffed loudly, your hand flattening to the top the dresser before you could move and work on the next earring. “oh c,mon Har! you warned me about her antics and now you didn’t know what she was going to do?” You reminded. Harry’s head fell in defeat before he snapped back up to you. “I know what I said! But I didn’t know she was going to be that bold.”

you looked at him dead, “do you know who you are?” realizing that you were unintentionally quoting him again. you watched his adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed, noticing what you said too. “are you trying to make this a laughing matter now?” He questioned, “you were about to rip my head off minutes ago.”

“i’m not, please scratch that because that wasn’t my intent.” you explained, watching the corner of his mouth shift upward. he knew you like the back of his hand, he knew that this would lead to making up sooner or later, he knew you were upset and still trying to keep yourself together and also have your moment and express yourself. he loved you for it, you hated it cause you were trying to be serious. but you made him a better man, he needed you more than you may have felt tonight. he knew what happened at the gathering was wrong, he could’ve done more to stop it all. it’s the reason for this recalculation of tonight’s events.

you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to regain your thoughts before you looked at him again. his green orbs still staring at you, waiting for what to leave your pretty lips next. “in all of this, you may not have known what to do to stop her. but you knew what you were doing when your grip left my body and your attention went to her.” you spoke, then. “just like you had warned me about and I wasn’t prepared that you would actually give it to her.”

harry didn’t say anything after that. trying to piece together the words that everything she was feeling wasn’t wrong, he hurt her, unintentionally. it was the further thing from his mind in the moment that everything was happening. it was more vigilance because he knew what his ex was about. but never in the slightest was it to crawl back to her. Not when his everything was standing in front of him, doubting herself and her stance in his life.

“it wasn’t supposed to be perceived like that, please let–” You shook your head causing Harry to stop speaking midstream. “I don’t want to keep talking about it. I just want to sleep.” She said then. “we’ll talk more about it in the morning.” Moving to her side of the bed to start removing the throw pillows. Harry sighed heavily, shuffling his feet to his side, grabbing his pillow. “I’ll be in the guest room.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

2am had come around rather slow and you still wide awake. tossing and turning in your california king. trying to get comfortable as you wrapped the sage duvet closer to yourself. seeking to drift off at any minute now. but despite your eyes feeling heavy, your mind was racing.

this was the last thing you wanted. the only time harry and you ever slept apart was when he was away, entertaining the world. you wanted to stand your ground, but as you laid there able to rethink everything. harry wasn’t the bad guy here. he did a lot more than you thought.

he came home with you. he paused the idea of a good night out, to make sure that you knew were his main focus of the night. of his life. not the party, not the friends or old lovers. you.

you didn’t see that in the moment, everything was overwhelming. your thoughts were taking over and making the little things seem like the problem. when the biggest action was he followed you out that door, went through what felt like a lifetime drive home of fighting, proving that the situation between him and her was the last thing he was concerned about. because what mattered more was you.

rubbing your face in your hands, you stared back up at the ceiling, annoyed with yourself. this became bigger than it needed to be. and you were feeling it hard when you looked over at the spot empty next to you.

you threw the duvet off yourself, turning and sitting up off the side of the bed. your bare feet hitting the chilled wood before making a beeline to the bedroom door. you tip toed down the hall until you came to the third door on your right. taking a breath, you went to raise your hand and knock lightly on the guest room door when it opened before you could hit the white wood with your little knuckles. and a shirtless harry stood before you.

from what you could see from what little light the window gave near by. he was having the same problem as you, his green eyes slightly reddened from the mixture of sleep deprivation and rubbing them. surprised even by seeing you standing there. his dark brown curls, tossled in all directions upon his head.

“are you alright, love?” he asked as if everything was okay. putting you before him. it made your heart swell and hurt at the same time.

you nodded, “yeah, just can’t sleep.” you said, he huffed lightly, his hand reaching behind to scratch his head. “me neither. it’s a bit cold in here.” he replied, then. knowing the exact underline of what he meant.

looking down at your pink painted toes. before meeting his eyes again. feeling your eyes become glassy. “look, I’m sorry.” you began. harry shook his head, immediately pulling you to him. your arms wrapped around his toned torso swiftly. your face colliding to his chest, smelling his signature cinnamon and vanilla scent. what smelt like home to you. “no, love, I’m sorry. for everything.” you pulled away slightly, still wrapped up in him and meeting his green eyes. you were not going to allow him to take the blame.

“Har, no. you didn’t have to come back home with me but you did. you didn’t have to deal with me on the way home, but you did. you–“

harry raised two fingers to your lips. stopping your ramble mid-stream. his fingers than moved to caress your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. “please stop, y/n.” he muttered soft, raspy and covered in sleep. “it’s okay. really.”

you raised at your brow at him. “but why?” you asked, why was he just taking it? you wondered. harry just smiled, his hand now enveloping your face, thumb running over your soft cheek. “because I love you, more than you know and I made you feel like I didn’t.” you went to protest again, but he stopped you once more.

“I dont want to hear anymore about tonight. there’s a perfectly, cozy bed in our room. waiting for me and the love of my life. and the past two hours have been awful without you next to me.”

the smile harry put on you, spread across your lips before you could stop it. you wrapped an arm around Harry’s neck. bringing his lips to yours in a sweet kiss, pulling away shortly after. “I love you too.” you said, then.

“let’s not waste another minute, let’s get some sleep.” not saying another word, tangling harry’s long, ring covered fingers in yours. before heading down the hall, to your bedroom, to where you both belonged together and for always.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

i just watched this video of chris drunk during an interview and omg he is the cutest bean ever😍 so here comes another request, chris is out, drinking with friends and he calls you because he is clingy with you more so when drunk and he is just spilling everything, how much he loves you and the whole wedding vows and promises and then he comes home but doesn’t recognize you and he is like ‘no, i don’t wike you, i have a girlfriend’😂 i know very specific but omg i’m so in love with him💕

Babes, he is the Sweetest cutest drunk man ever, if its the video where he goes on about how hes not a tap dancer, but lets lay claim to that fame, cause why the hell not. XD haha. I loved trying to picture what he would do. And absolutely he would get so gushy for his girl, needing to tell her how much he loved her. Awww. Love this one, thank you so much! 

“God I need a break”

Chris’s arm slung over his eyes as he tipped his head back, taking a deep chest raising breath. You glanced up from your seat across the room, watching him from over your book. A frown playing on your lips at the sight of him being so tensed and stressed out. Everything about him right now was taunt and rigid. And with a sigh he moved back into a sit, leaning over his documents spread on the coffee table. Setting your book aside, you grabbed your phone and headed into the kitchen, pulling up a group chat with all of Chris’s closest friends.

‘Hey what you guys all doing tonight?’ You chewed your lip a bit waiting. They were rather quick though, sending you a quick fire replies.

‘Nothing!’

‘Staying home on the couch watching trash tv’

‘Suggestions?’

‘Whats up Buttercup?’ Last one came from Scott, he started giving you teasing nicknames simply cause you were practically his sister in law at this point.

‘Chris desperately needs a night out with all of you, and wont ask for it himself. Help him (and me) out?’

You peeked back out of the room, to see Dodger huffing at Chris with a ball in his mouth, shoving into his lap. Chris absently with a flick of the wrist tossed it across the room. The fact he wouldnt even look up, but the crease deepened in his forehead as his eyes scanned the words, rubbing his chin let you know he needed this. He kept up like that, his beard you adored so much was gonna be rubbed off. Come on guys, you thought. It was then you heard the ping, and it popped up on your screen.

‘Say no more, we will take care of it’

They were the best. Seconds later Chris’s phone started buzzing, rattling across the coffee table, jarring him at the noise. It was persistent, as he reached to grasp it, going through the ‘Buddy, Julios, 8 pm tonight!’ messages, Scott sending a private one later ‘Picking you up tonight’ Leaving it so Chris didnt have to worry about driving.

“Y/N, the guys want to go out tonight... “ He pushed off the sofa and went in search of you, finding you standing at the kitchen counter, selecting an apple out of the fruit bowl and start slicing it up. “Hmm, whats that Chris?” You ask while coring your fruit, asting as if you didnt know what he was gonna ask.

“Guys want to go out tonight, you want to come? They are apparently not taking im to busy as an answer. Scotts driving.”

You act surprised, and give a shake of the head. “No, Im gonna stay home tonight. Working on a work project, and I want to finish it up.” You gather your fruit in a bowl and come around to reach him. “But I will leave the porch light on for you Handsome.” You lean up as if to kiss him and when he went to meet you, you stuff an apple in his mouth, grinning as you pluck up another piece and snip of the tip of it.

“Just dont forget your keys cause I will be sleeping.” You smirk, after swallowing, moving to go around him. He wasnt about to let you get away though, catching you around your hips and pulling you in close, using his beard to tickle your neck. “Oh I know you had something to do with this Baby!”

You are laughing and squealing, denying your guilt as you try to escape. “No way! It wasnt--- CHRIS!” he was relentless though and chased you into the livingroom once you broke free, already he was starting to relax more.

That night, you did as you promised and left the porch light on, making sure the door was locked and headed into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Your phone sat nearby, and right in the middle of you scrubbing for those pearly whites, Chris’s ring tone popped up, the phone lighting up the picture of the three of you. Picking it up, you had to chuckle at the message.

‘Baby, I miss you so much. What are you doing? Do you miss me yet.(sad face sad face heart)’

You typed out ‘Brushing my teeth and heading to bed. Sounds like your having a good time. (wink)’

It wasnt even seconds before you got another one, this time it was ‘But do you MISS me?’ Yea he was tipsy, he always got a bit needy once he had some liquor in him.

‘Yes, course I do. Sleeping all alone is tough without you to cuddle up with.’ You knew that would make him smile. Snapping off the light, you go into the bedroom and turn down the bed, setting about doing the rest of your nightly routine when it pings again. This time there is a video, which you move to sit up against the headboard, hitting play.

It starts out all wonky, like Chris didnt have the camera still, and then it turns to him, at an odd angle, he must not be holding it high enough, and hes shouting over the music. “Y/N, I couldnt type anymore, the keys are to small.” he lifts it higher and you can see the others in the background, goofing off and shouting at him to return to the party, he waves them off and steps away further, away from the music, so you can hear him properly now. “I just wanted to tell you how much I fucking love you. Oh so much baby.” He rubs his face quickly, you can tell what hes saying is important to him, something that hes kept for a while, but finally had to get it out. Whenever he gets emotional, he rubs and touches his face. “I just need you always in my life, and I know you will tell me not to be silly, but listen. I love you so much, I just need to tell you. When we get married, im writing my own vows, your worth so much baby, I cant wait to make you all mine. I still need to go buy that ring though. How do I open up reminders?” His finger slammed down on the phone and its here he accidentally hit send, making you laugh hard enough that tears start streaming down your face.

It was no hidden fact that Chris wanted to tie the knot, he had mentioned it several times, so you couldnt wait to show this to him to see that flush rise up his cheeks and him shrugging as if he confessed some big secret. “Dont pay attention to that, I have to do it right!” Little did he know that you didnt even need the ring. If he just asked, you would in a heartbeat agree. But as he said, he wanted to do it right, and you were fine with waiting for him to be ready.

You send a message to Scott. ‘Please bring Chris home safe, hes so liquored!’ Which Scott just sent back a laughing emoji, clearly amused with his brother. It went quiet, and you pull the blankets up, falling asleep shortly after.

It was a couple hours later when you heard Dodger shuffle out of the bedroom and give a soft bark. Chris must be home, you thought as you rolled to get up, and wearing nothing but his oversized tee, you pad out to see where he was. Ahh, the kitchen. On the counter was several bags of what looked like taco bell, and he was rummaging for something. You lean in the doorway and say his name “Chris, honey, what are you looking for?”

From in the fridge he remarks “more cheese, I need more cheese” Between his legs, Dodger also has his head stuck in the fridge, the two of them quite the pair. You open a cupboard and take out some nacho cheese, unscrewing the top for Chris. In this state of mind, you didnt want him to try for himself. “Here Handsome, I got you a jar.” He turned suddenly, half tripping over Dodger as he went for the bag of tacos, and dumping out a pile of food. “Your the best... “ drizzling cheese all over his taco and taking a big bite, he gave what could only be described as a dirty moan, his eyes rolling back. “This is the best, besides Y/N’s tacos. I miss my baby” 

“Im right here” You state, but he ignores you, going back to his taco. While hes eating, you go back to lock the door, pick up his shoes, and leave the rest of his chaos for the morning.

Getting back, you see hes left behind his meal, and with a roll of your eyes you pick that up to. He would make it up to you tomorrow. You would be sure of it. Heading towards the bedroom, you saw him collapsed on the bed, groaning. You bite your lip to keep from laughing, going to set on your side of the bed. “Chris, do you want to get undressed?”

His eyes slanted open as he looked up at you, and he groaned, turning away. “Go away, wheres Y/N?”

Well this was a first for you, your hand touches Chris’s back. “Baby, its me.”

He shifted once more to turn on his side facing away from you, muttering “I dont wike it, Stop, go away, your not Y/N”

“Chris?” You move to lean over him, your hand braced on his shoulder for leverage to glance over his half sleeping form, and he half slapped at your hand touching him, grumbling into his pillow. “Stop, I dont wike it. Wheres Y/N?” It wasnt often Chris resorted back to placing his W’s in place of the L’s.  

You pull back and study him a moment, getting your phone and texting Scott.

‘How much did you guys give Chris?’

‘Oh honey, that boy is out of commission when I dropped him off at home. He should be passed out by now.’

No shit Scott, you think. Setting your phone aside. Chris has shifted again, to his back, and gives a smile seeing you and sighing. “Y/N is so beautiful, I cant wait till we have all the babies. Little Y/N all over the place.”

You pat his chest and lay down next to him. “Yes sir, all the babies, and Chris can change all the dirty diapers, and car pool them back and forth to soccer camp.”

He loped an arm around you and cuddled you in close to him, humming. “Yup. Tell Y/N that when she comes home that I miss her.”

“Oh of course, she will be very happy to see your home safe.”

That made him smile and he buried his face in your hair. Within minutes he started snoring softly, and you moved his arm from over your chest to settle at your waist. Finally you to drift off for the night.

The next morning came to you waking up first, bleary eyed, Chris came into focus, having moved during the night. Now he was on his back, head tipped back into the pillows, and mouth wide open. You were pretty tempted to take a picture, but before you could move, he slung an arm around you and twisted to his side, muttering against your shoulder.

“What Handsome?”

“I want... to die. Ugh” He lifted his head enough to rub the sleep out of his eyes and rubbed his chin against your neck, resettling himself against you. “How bad was I?”

Your hand comes up to card your fingers through his hair, light and gentle, he started humming softly at the soothing feeling.

“Well... You insisted on eating tacos, left a whirlwind of stuff in our livingroom, and you didnt remember who I was.” That shot his head up, in confusion.

“What?”

“Yea, you were convinced I was another woman and everytime I tried to like touch you to make sure you were okay, You brush me off and demand to know where I was.” You giggled softly at the memory, and he dropped his head groaning.

“Shit baby Im so sorry if I was an ass.”

“No no, you werent. It was more like you just wanted to see me, and you werent gonna accept another woman. It was kind of cute. You kept saying I dont wike it whenever i touched you. Oh and you um... sent me a video.”

He grumbled against your shoulder. “Course I did... I dont even want to know what was on it.”

You bring your hand to slide down the back of his neck, to his shoulders and rub along his upper back. “Well, it was all good stuff Chris. It was about how much you missed me, and loved me, then there was talks about a wedding ring.” Again he groaned against you, lifting his head up.

“Listen Y/N, when I said all that... “ He started and you cupped your hand over his mouth.

“Stop Babes, you were drunk. You really dont have to say anything. It was a cute video, and thats all I took it for.”

His eyes flashed in a touch of relief, another less sure woman might have been hurt at her mans relief, but you knew better. Chris was a man who ‘wanted to do it right’. You tilted your head up and nuzzled your nose against his. “How about you jump in the shower, and I will go make us a hangover cure?”

“And whats that?”

“Why more alcohol of course.”

He seemed to ponder a bit on your offer, and rolled to sit up, stretching. “Your on baby. Can you stay in my shirt though?” His blue eyes darkened in desire. “Cause your so fucken sexy in my clothes and I have plans for us later.”

You move to get off the bed, cupping his face once you stand and kiss his lips playfully. “Of course” As you turn to leave, his hand snaps playfully across your bare ass, and you smirk leaving the room.

Party is just getting started now.

[thewolfisapartofmysoul]

Hey lovelies,

I wrote another fanfic. Its Beetlejuice x reader.... it turned out to be really fluffy, but its BeeJ so its gonna be smutty too. I've made a little *****-line. And under there it gets... down... to... smut-town. So if you dont like that, stop before the *****. If you are as thirsty as i am. Continue reading the whole thing. (Daddy kink! If ur not into that... im sorry. Scroll along.) I was thirsty im sorry.

Thanx again for reading, lovelies. 💕

Reader dying her hair purple leading to awesome time with our ghost-with-the-most .

So... you dyed your hair...

Ithink Beetlejuice wouldnt get it at first. Your hair was always a beautifull full brown colour.

And suddenly it was red. Not bright red... just... a LITTLE bit redder then usual. BeeJ would be a bit confused. But also SUPER turned on... cause he loved redheads. So he didn't questions it. Just roll with it. (And by rolling with it i ment you. Rolling you on your back.) But hey. Both of you happy... no questions asked.

2 months after that he would poof back home after scaring the neigbours, and you would be chilling on the couch watching movies. He would already be calling: "Hey babes!!! Did ya miss...." and he could finish his scentence cause then he saw you.

His beautiful beautiful breather. Chilling as usual. Looking very relaxed while watching her favorite show in her pyjama shorts.

Okay.... points for that. He noticed his need to touch her thighs... GOD she looked good in shorts! But that wasnt what made his breath hitch in his throat. His eyes traveled upwards to her hair... panic rising in his chest when he realised. It was purple. Well... more dark aubergine... but it still made him anxious. His own hair changing colour all of the sudden to match the one of his partner. Why was his favorite breather so sad that it made her hair turn purple?

You turned around and noticed the sudden change of his facial expressions... but also his hair changing colour rapidly. The bright green (when he was happy and excited after scaring people) made place for a deep purple. As Beetlejuice rushed closer to you and sat next to you to hold your hand you saw some streaks of pink popping through the purple. Thank God... he wasnt upset about you at least. The pink of his hair betraying the love he held for you. But the sadness and worry his purple hair usually carried had you worried instantly. What would make your favorite demon so troubled all of the sudden.

He kissed your hand while mumbling: "Babes... what's up? Are you upset? Why is your hair purple? Is it me? I promise i didn't dye the neigbours cat green again this time. Did miss Mullens talked to you? Cause... i swear i thought it was legal the last time and..."

You shut him up in the only way you knew how to that fast. You kissed him SO softly and with SO much passion he growled in your kiss slightly.

Doing so making you smile against his green scruff.

"Sweety..." you said after he pulled back. "Im not sad. Its just... purple because i like it that way."

You were relieved that when you looked closer you could see the purple dissapeared slightly from his hair. More pink there then purple... thanks to the passionate kiss you two had shared.

He still looked slightly confused... but you managed to explain hair dying to him... and after a minute or two he told you he understood.

With a flicker in his eyes and his hands already wandering over your bare thighs he smirked at you... "you look lovely babes. The purple gets me hungry."

He kissed your lips passionately and bit your lower lip. The move had you moaning. Before things went further down you pulled away... and looked him in the eye.

It could kill the mood but you had to say it to him. So you stated: "BeeJ... thanx for looking after me. It means a lot that you care enough to get sad when you think im sad."

"Anytime." He said. "Cant have my favorite breather all upset now can i?" With that he kissed you again. Very softly but you felt the need and the power in that kiss. The heat that was there.

***************************************

His hands very slowly traveled between your legs again and you felt your breath hitch when he found your clothed mouth. Your mouth fell open with anticipation for what was about to happen.

Beetlejuice took that moment to bite your lower lip, slowly going down towards your cheeckbone. You felt your eyes close at the sensation of his scruff against your cheek and neck while he was delicately placing kisses bites and licks on your cheek and neck.

His hand still teasingly rubbing your hand against your aching pussy. Very slowly. With a bit of pressure. But not quite enough to get you off. Yet.

You moaned silently at the contact. Craving more, but still very insecure about making noises. But your ghost-with-the-most picked up on it. You felt his fingers twitch lightly at the sweet sound of your voice, and he growled at the pleasure it gave him to hear that little whiper coming out of you.

He knew you needed some sort of comfort to proceed making hot noices like that. So he growled in a deep seductive tone: "thats it babygirl. You already so wet for me arent you? Im just barely touching your pussy and my beautiful purple princess is already moaning for me to let her come? You want to make daddy proud, dont you?"

You nodded your head, eyes closed at the sensation of his voice in your ear, the scruff on your cheeck and his hand still rubbing your clenching pussy.

"Use your words purple princess. Daddy wants to hear you. Daddy needs to hear how good he makes you feel. How hot and how ready you are to scream daddy's name. Moan for me babygirl."

You sighed. Troubled. Really wanted to... but still embarresed.

Suddenly that changed when his teeth found your earlobe. Tugging it softly with his teeth, growling your name while doing so.

You opened your mouth to moan the most quiet moan he ever heared. But oh boy did he notice.

"Thats it babygirl. Let daddy hear you. I love to hear the beautiful sounds you make babes. They are so hot. You are so hot. Thats my babygirl."

You moaned again slightly harder this time, his hand now fondling with your breast.

"Your doing such a good job babes... so ready and needy. With a wet tight pussy for daddy to take. Your doing great princess. Let me hear you again babes. Please."

His hand pinched your nipple roughly and you let out a cry of pleasure.

BeeJ growled at that. His pretty breather coming undone under his skilled hands. All spread beneath him... moaning for more. With her beautiful purple hair.

He started to rub his hand faster over her pussy.

She made the most beautifull sound he'd ever heared.

You were a mess. He was working magic with his hands over your aching body. Rubbing faster and faster over your still clothed pussy. Moaning with each stroke his fingers made. You felt your orgasm building while he took your hair in his hand, other hand still vigorously rubbing your pussy. You were panting and moaning and breathing very shallow. You were so close... you could feel it.

"Daddy's little girl. I love your hair like this babygirl. You look so pretty. Moaning and ready to come for daddy. Like the little slut you are. You like me rubbing you trough your pyjamas?"

You moaned at his dirty talk and the rubbing on your clit.

He rougly pulled your hair.

"I was asking something princess. Awnser daddy like a good girl." He growled into your ear.

"Yes daddy." You moaned. "I am. Ive been horny all day thinking about you BeeJ. Teasing myself through the shorts as i imagined what you would do to me when you came home. Ive been a very bad girl touching myself " you moaned.

"You make daddy so angry. Yet so hot." He panted. "I think you need a little punishment for being so naughty, babes." He growled so close you your ear, that you felt his tongue touching it lightly. You took in a sharp breath from both the tongue on your ear and the dirty talk of your demon echoing in your mind.

Beetlejuice practically purred while he offered his hand he had been rubbing on your aching pussy to you. He stick out his index and middle finger while purring into your ear: "suck daddy's fingers while i hear you moan babes..." You remained intense eye contact while slowly pulling your lips over his warm fingers. They smelled slightly of you, combined with the mixture of scents that was obvious BeeJ's. "So good babygirl... suck daddy's fingers" he praised you.

You moaned at the sensation sucking on his fingers brought you. Circling your tongue against his fingers. Licking up and down before closing your lips on it once again. Soflty whimpering while Beetlejuice used his free hand to play with your hair. "Nnrgh... daddy..." you whispered. "Please... PLEASE keep touching my hair" you moaned desperately. Craving his gentle touch on your scalp. "Am i doing good daddy?" You begged, while again sucking his fingers up and down.

Beetlejuice smiled at your begging. The moans you made were music to his ears. He purred and took his fingers out of your mouth. While remaining eye contact with you he plopped his own fingers in his mouth and took them out sofly, sensually. With a deep voice he cooed: "thats my good little slut. You did such a good job. You deserve a reward babygirl..." You never heard his voice sound so deep and gravely before.

He licked his lips and brought his wet fingers back to your entrance again. Rubbing fastly whitout mercy.

Whitin seconds you felt that white heat closing in on your orgasm again. The sensation of his wet fingers on your pussy while the other hand played with your hair and his lips closed around a nipple... soflty biting the skin you breathed his name against his neck.

"Im so close daddy" you keened in the crook of his neck. "Please make me come. Please daddy. Im begging you."

"It would be a pleasure babes. I love to hear you beg for daddy like the good little girl you are. So naughty playing with yourself when daddy was away hmm? Like the feeling of my fingers rubbing you, my princess?" He growled in your ear.

"Y-yeah da-daddy... oh... fuck... Thats it... right... there... faster please daddy..."He rubbed your clit even faster. You spread your legs open as wide as you could to give him more acces.

"Nnnrg. Yeah... like that da-ah-daddy... please"

"Thats it babygirl. Your doing so good. Being all spread out like this for me. God your gorgeous. Let me hear you babes."

You moaned his name tiredly and he squeezed your breast again. You whined "daddy... pleeeease..." as he slapped your pussy sofly, tugging your ear with his teeth and petting your hair he growled:

"Come for daddy y/n" placing a kiss on your neck.

With this you came. Screaming his name as you came.

He smiled a lopsided smile at you as he was holding you in his hands. Pulling you close to him to let you rest. Hugging back you felt him petting your hair softly mumbling praises in your ear. "You did so good baby. Im so proud of you. You are so beautifull babes."

You felt him putting his nose in your hair to sniff it, purring softly. You smiled to yourself as he did so.

You turned your head so you could kiss him softly on his lips. Giggling as he confessed: "love the purple hair babes. Looks good on you"

Kissing his nose you said: "should dye it more often then."

Beetlejuice chuckled and swooped you up bridal style to the bedroom.

You cackled all the way up.

Feeling blessed with a man... demon... in your life that loved you. Even with purple hair...

BeeJ unceremoniously dropped you onto the bed and started peppering you with kisses along your hairline. Slowly feeling up your sides and growling when he squeezed your but. You giggled. This was gonna be a LONG night.

[chimswae]

Untold Bonus Part 1

Foreword:

Some stories are better left unsaid.I couldn’t change anything for the world, although the fame part of this industry is tough to handle.Do i have a life? Yes I have my fans.Do i have friends? Yes the members that I cherish. Do i have love? No I have to let go.Life always offers you a second chance. It’s called tomorrow. But do i have any tomorrow?

Pairing: Jimin x OC (Other characters: BTS, OCs, Lee Taehwan)

Genre: Idolau, Fluff, Romance, Father!Au

Word Count: 3,143

Author Note: I almost forgotten to update the bonus chapter and epilogue, so there would be another two parts of this bonus chapters and one epilogue! 

You can check full masterlist below :)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Part 1

“Im sorry that we just have time to go for our honeymoon, love” Jimin interlaced their fingers together leaving a soft kiss on her knuckles with an apologetic smile.

 To be truth, after their wedding Bangtan went straight to studios for their upcoming comeback. The comeback was a real lit though and Yeoul never once regretted for skipping their honeymoon for Sonyeodan comeback. It was worthwhile.

 “Jimin no more sorry, I don’t need fancy honeymoon. We can skip the tradition, what matters here you are with me” she tapped the tip of his nose with a slight giggle. Sometimes, Jimin worried too much even a simple thing like how he had to stay with the guys which happened to be just two floor beneath them for their practice.

 Jimin could be silly from time to time too and Yeoul had to assure him nothing was going to happen to her even though he had to work overtime. The nature of his job required him to live this way, and since Yeoul signed up for this she would not whine over it.

She understood Jimin.

 They complement each other.

 Their marriage had been a real blessing in life, she had a life that she dreamed. Minyeol had a loving daddy and seven handsome samchons including Taehwan to pamper him.

 This honeymoon was unplanned and actually was a gift from Bang PD to them. It was overwhelming knowing a man like Bang PD would treat them not as their source of income but a real family. She felt welcomed.

 Since they were having a long break now, Jimin decided to bring Yeoul abroad to make up for their pending honeymoon. He still felt bad for delaying it. Morocco would be a perfect place for their honeymoon since island was too mainstream to Jimin.

 Don’t misunderstood him, he just thought camel ride would be pretty dope and romantic.

 Camel ride, Sahara Desert and Yeoul. Wouldnt that be a perfect combos with extra Yeoul in it?

 He exhaled a soft sigh, wounding one of his arms around her waist, pulling the small size girl closer to his chest “How can you be okay with it Mrs Park? We should have gone for honeymoon months ago. I promise to be a better husband” he nuzzled the top of her head.

 Yeoul awed at his softness and sincerity. On top of all, she knew Jimin put everything on the line including his fame just to marry her.

 “Mister husband, if I were to choose honeymoon or bangtan sonyeodan, I will still choose Bangtan over our honeymoon” she rested her chin against his chest and looked up at Jimin as their eyes locked. They were immersed in the moment until Jimin inquired her the reasons to her answers.

 Her lips broke into a lovely smile “Because I know how much Bangtan means to you. It completes you, Park Jimin and Bangtan.. just how we complement each other. After all, it is you first wife.. as long as you give me fair love, I don’t mind being the second wife” she giggled.

 Jimin let out a small chuckle “Really? You sounded super cheesy today. What did I do to deserve you Na Yeoul…” he hums. Within a second, Jimin inched close as she could feel his hot breath against her skin.

 “Jim…we are still on the plane” her lips quivered against him. Jimin could feel the vibrate against his soft lips. How that drive him mad.

 “It is first class seat. We are away from prying eyes at least..” before Yeoul could protest, his soft and wet lips already took over her cold one. She swore in the name of their love, she was not tired kissing him everyday. The love channeled via every kisses that he showered was undeniably amazing.

 Her body tingled every single time. With every stroke of his tongue intertwined her desperate one, she could feel every receptors in her body reacting to it. She hated how much his presence affect her, even though it was safe to say Jimin wasn’t just a good kisser but he knew how to love his woman in bed too.

 Jimin bit down her lower lips, shoving his tongue inside deepening their kisses as one of his hands locked their body together. Their breath hitched feeling the friction against their skin. This was bad move, they were in a freaking plane.

 Her sanity took over her mind as she slowly pulled away, inhaling a deep breath “Jims.. behave..” she muttered in between kisses.

 “Mmm..I think we have time..” he teased caused the latter to turn crimson red.

 “Park Jimin” she hissed silently while biting her lower lips. Yeoul buried her already hot face at the crook of his neck with audible mumbles. Ever since they tied knot, Jimin’s physical affections had moved to another extreme level though they were in a public spaces like this.

 He would try to steal kisses from Yeoul or they might end up making out at the corner. In other words, they thought it was hidden from public at least even though they were in fact in public. Then their effort was no used.

 Just like Yeoul could stop him, she would end up giving up no matter how much she tried to resist. She really hated her body. It obeyed his every action like it depended on it.

 Jimin ran his hand further, stroking her torso and moved lower just above her buttocks before pulling her slightly close onto his lap. She tried to hold back her gasp as she felt her lower body had been lifted up then Yeoul realized the mastermind behind this.

 Park Jimin is the devil in mask.

 “What are you doing..” she whispered awfully low in his earlobe.

 Little did she knew, that actually encouraged Jimin to further tease her.

 His fingers traced along her waistline and ended up between her thigh “Why? I am having a conversation with my wife” he chortled.

 “This isnt a conversation..This is-” her breath once again caught at her throat as she felt his moist lips sucking on her sensitive skin. Yeoul tugged his arms in between her fingers, and bit down her lips before it let out inappropriate sound.

 “What…Mrs Park.. continue. This is what?” he challenged. Jimin’s eyes fixated at her soft flesh, as he moved his free hand to pull down the strap of her pastel dress a little. He kissed her shoulder and playfully leaving a soft suckle here and there before moving close to her collarbone.

 Jimin could feel Yeoul twitched under his touch, so he knew exactly where to love her.

 He caught her eyes and though he tried to flash her an innocent smile, she could still smell lust even from miles away. Her husband was a big big trouble.

Yeoul bit his earlobe, exhaling a soft sigh more like she was holding back her moan and that was the least thing she could do to calm herself down. The voice of Yeoul had awaken the inner beast in him, and it absolutely at the wrong time.

 Showing no sign of retreat from this messy and heated make out session, Jimin’s sinful lips continued to cause chaos over there. He sucked on her neck, rolling his tongue in process with one sole intention, he wanted to mark her.

 She gasped softly “Jimin.. stop..” Jimin smug. Yeoul shifted a little and Jimin took the chance to move her properly on his lap and now she was straddling him with her legs trapping Jimin at both side.

 It was rather fun to have this secret little rendezvous at an unexpected place. Not to mention, he was rather grateful their seat was at the corner back of this first class section. Seats across them were filled but the old couple was in deep slumber.

 Therefore at this rate to get caught by other passengers or worse the flight attendant were rather low now. The anxiety and fear of getting caught made things even hotter. Screw everything.

 To spice things up, Jimin slid his playful hand under her dress feeling her skin beneath the pastel dress causing the latter to jerk forward at the sudden contact. He loved the close proximity of their bodies, it was arousing.

 Yeoul cupped his cheeks and leaned to kiss him with so much passionate which startled Jimin. Since Yeoul was a reserve girl, to see this side of her taking the lead was rather amusing. If he were to recall back all their intimate sessions, there were roughly four times when Yeoul dominates in bed.

 Jimin loved those rare moments. It spiced their relationship a bit.

 His attention was back in teasing his wife “Na Yeoul.. I thought you wanted to talk” he breathed between kisses with a playful smile.

 “I hate you Park Jimin.. stop the tug-o-war” she wounded one of her arms around his neck, shutting him off with a long endearing kisses that could blown Jimin’s mind right away if they didn’t stop. Their kisses turned sloppy when Yeoul moaned lowly in the process.

 He squished her perky mound and fondled it a little sensually causing her to squirm under his touch again. Yeoul thought it was unfair how woman owned half of the sensitive parts to be teased  during intimate sessions while man could get arouse over a simple moan.

 Yeoul did not want to suffer alone so she would drag her husband down with her in this pit hole.

 She purposely created friction down there, just to see how he reacted to that. However to her surprise, she could actually feel him poking in his jeans. That was another trouble. Their make out session could not turn into a real love making.

 Not here and definitely not when they were thousand feet above the ground. So kinky.

 “Na Yeoul.. You are in deep trouble” his voiced turned rowdy and stupidly sexy. How disturbing.

 Jimin pressed their clothed sexes together, not trying to break away the contact. Both of them exhaled a deep sigh, feeling sexually frustrated at the moment because as much he wanted to take her right away, he couldn’t do it.

 Their love making should be special and it should only be initiated on bed.

Of course they love goofing around in the public teasing each other patience, but when it came to sexual intercourse Jimin had a very clear conscience on it. It could only be done with the presence of proper bed.

 Yeoul nuzzled their face together with a teasing smile, her cheeks were reddened as a result of their heated session “Wait for it Jiminie.. we have the whole week for it” she winked. Oh man, once again it weakened Jimin heart but hardened his little naughty smurf.

 “Park Jimin calm down you little smurfie!” her eyes widened at the sudden feeling of his bulge against her.

 Jimin pouted in response “I am trying too.. baby….” puckering his lips, he demanded a kiss at least to sooth away the pain that he experienced down there.

 “Aww Jiminie.. I will treat you good later on okay?” she let out a soft chuckle, leaning in for one last kiss before breaking away. Or more like before everyone else woke up and caught them eating each other face with her sitting inappropriately like this.

 This got to stop otherwise, they would be banned from this airline.

 -------------------------

 It was a long haul flight despite being in the same Asia continent, still it sucked out their energy. As soon as they arrived in Morocco, they went straight to hotel to check-in and not to forget to settle their unfinished business in the plane.

 Only God knows how hard it was to hold back the feeling, though they ended up napping for few hours just to ease the tense. It was late evening when their plane touched down. So their plan would eventually start the next day.

 They spent their day in the room catching up some sleep and pretty much something more important that just a sleep. It was honeymoon after all.

 The next day, Jimin and Yeoul woke pretty late than they scheduled since they really pulled an all nighter yesterday. The sun had set and the light beamed through the window woken Jimin up from his deep sleep.

 Squinting his eyes together, he blinked few times before searching for the button near his bed to shut the curtain close. He yawned a little as his eyes moved to Yeoul figure in her arms,the corner of his lips twitch into a soft smile.

 Yeoul was still fast asleep accompanied by her steady breathing, not to mention she was painfully beautiful. Looking so effortlessly stunning even in her sleep. Jimin wrapped his arm around her small body, gluing their body close.

 He just couldn’t get enough of her. Cuddling with her had always been the best thing to do every morning. He wanted to pause the time so it would last longer.

 Yeoul shifted closer, burying her face in his neck “What time..” she mumbled.

 “Hmm…Time to get drown in my warm embrace” he joked but only to received a light nibble on his skin.

 “Im serious mister husband”

 Jimin chortled “It is past 12 but it is alright, rest all you want. We can have a walk a little later. Besides, I prefer honeymoon activity in bed”

 “wow you are so damn honest over everything. Sadly, I didn’t come to Morocco just to create offspring with you” Yeoul was fully awake now, her eyes opened penetrating the deepest core of his heart.

 Park Jimin is electrified by love, again.

 “Hey to create offspring is one of the goals. Nothing wrong with that, Na Yeoul shut your eyes for one more hour. I will wake you up later okay?” he stroked her cheeks lovingly.

 To be frank, after what Jimin pulled yesterday Yeoul deserved an extra sleep if she did not want to walk around Morocco like a friggin zombie. She nodded while stretching a little in his embrace, “Wake me up aite?” she muttered groggily.

 “I will.. just sleep” Jimin soothed her hair and beamed when she felt her relax in his arms.

 It was a good way to start their day, indeed.

 ---------------------

 The lovebird went out around 4 in the afternoon as soon as their brunch on bed, which specially prepared by Jimin. To make it sounded so cringe worthy, Jimin actually flaunt about it whole freaking day as if that was the only romantic things that he ever did to Yeoul.

 There were plenty but out of every romantic plans he ever made, he said breakfast in bed was one of the best thing that he ever done. First, he was the one who cooked the food. Second, it was something that he always wanted to do for Yeoul but due to his busy schedule he always left so early in the morning.

 Another goals unlocked.

 Jimin’s wish list could be pretty innocent sometimes in comparison to his playful nature. So it was not a big surprise at all.

 They strolled along the street enjoying the view and uniqueness of the place as it was so different from Korea. It felt good to see something new and to meet new people at least. They found a good restaurant and had ridiculously good local food with an addition of cocktails. That’s a must thing to have for honeymooners like them.

 Delicious food and cocktails, what a combination.

 They took a private charter to Chefchaouen or known as blue city, one of Morocco tourist hotspot. Walking hand in hand, the place continued to amaze them from the natural wonders that they offered as well as stunning architectural building around the city. Every corner of the city never ceased to amaze them.

 After spending for good few hours outside, they decided to head back to their hotel since they had another plan tomorrow morning to Sahara Desert. Out of all the itinerary being planning out to them, a visit to Sahara Desert lit up their expectations.

 Bumpy camel ride which according to Jimin could be romantic.

 Approaching the exquisite building before them, Yeoul’s eyes caught a familiar figure at the lobby. She thought she was daydreaming but it turned out..it was really him.

 Jeon Jungkook.

 And, not just Jeon Jungkook. Stood beside him grinning ear to ear was Jung Hoseok.

Oh shoot, what were they up too? As Yeoul was about to warn Jimin about their sudden appearance in Morocco, she saw the small figure that she missed dearly Park Minyeol.

 “OH MY GOD” she gasped in disbelief.

 “What happen? What did you see?” Jimin glanced around trying to find any suspicious jerks messing around with his woman but only to be welcomed with Kim Seokjin senile smile.

 Holy shit, did he really see it right? It was really Kim Seokjin.

 “HYUNG!” a familiar voice brought his attention back to the sight before him. Jeon Jungkook.

 What the hell? Jimin cussed in his head at this absurd situation.

 Jungkook was waving a little too cheerfully at his direction but didn’t he know Jimin was boiling inside? He thought this was supposed to be their honeymoon and why on earth they were here? Within a minute, one by one of his members face came into their vision smiling like an idiot.

 “Great the entire squad is here” Jimin scowled lowly as he exchanged meaningful look with Yeoul.

 Wait, a second. He noticed there were additional members in the squad, Lee Taehwan. How dare he tagged them along? Was this his idea? If that’s the case, he was ready to kill this Tae 2.0.

 His frown worn off upon seeing Minyeol in Taehwan’s arms “Minyeol..” he beamed in excitement.

 Yeoul squished his hand showing her happiness at the sight of their son. Both of them approached the group not paying attention to six devils who craved for their attention. They still had to answer tons of questions from him, for now they missed their son.

 “Oh god, how come you guys are here” Yeoul smiled and slowly took sleeping Minyeol from Taehwan.

 “Not my idea, ask Bangtan Sonyeodan” Taehwan eyed the six guilty guys who seemed all ready to dodge bullets from Jimin.

 Jimin knew something was fishy the moment when Taehyung kept on pestering him with kakaotalk message yesterday. They were up for no good. So this was it, cockblocking his honeymoon. Touche.

 “Now let’s start with Jungkook” Jimin crossed his arms, snickering under his breath still bewildered.

 “WHY ME?” he retorted.

 “Because you are the dongsaeng. You are going to give this HYUNG answers. HONEST ANSWER, alright Kukkie?’” Jungkook gulped in fear. This was seriously getting out of hand.

 He was not supposed to get involved but because of other hyungs, he was guilty as charged.

 Previous | Next

This work belongs to  Chimswae © 2020. All Rights Reserved

[arthurflecksgirl]

STOMPIN ON A DREAM *erotic Arthur Fleck short story *

Arthur Fleck and Reader

Involves: mental hospital, mental illness, sex

It was a quiet night in Arkham state hospital.

The only noise that was quietly floathing through the air was someone humming a song. Not loud, but still noticeable from the other side of the door. Doctor Finn didnt payed much attention to it. The patient with the case number 064823 did it since he came here 7 months ago. He always seemed to live in his own world. Most days it doesnt even seem to bother him that he is locked up in here. Thats how it seemed. But you knever know how it looks like on the inside of the patients heads. Especially when it came to Arthur Fleck.

He was very nice most of the time, not paying much attention to the other patients. Unless he wants to tell some jokes he just wrote down in his messy looking journal he carried with him everywhere he goes. Even to the bathroom. The doctors checked the diary daily, to make sure its fine for him to have it with him.  All in all he was one of the most quiet patients, which doesnt mean that the doctors felt comfortable around him. He was still an unsolved mysterie to them. Even to himself. Always in his own world but still observing. Always daydreaming, talking to himself but still having the presence  of someone who can change not only his but your own reality within a second. Some new doctor even left weeks ago because she was so drawn in by his presence, she was afraid to fall in love with him. Even though he never even talked to her or even noticed her. The intense look in his green eyes, the smirk on his face and the scar on his upper lip which made him look unpredictable and vulnerable at the same time was too much for her to handle. He was in his mid 30ies, his face slightly weathered but insanly attractive. You could hear him dancing through the hallways some nights, always playing a song in his head. His slim body moving graceful, light as a feather. Always an undefinable  expression on his face. A very beautiful but somehow broken man with a traumatic childhood. And alone. Always alone.

Arthur was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling in his white room. White exept for the red , big, messy written letters at which he was staring at.

"I thought of quitting baby, but my heart just ain`t gonna buy it"

He was closing his eyes. The red letters were still there. Now with a black background.

"Quitting" stood out now. The letters started to vibrate in his head. He got nerveaus, so he tried to calm himself down by humming the words. "I thought of quitting baby..." his voice as soft as his hands. His lips shaking a bit while trying to concentrate "...but my heart just aint gonna buy it...." his hands checking his chest, if he still had a heartbeat "...and if I´d think it was worth one single try..." he felt his heart beating, so he must have been still alive. "I`d ride on a big bird and then i´d fly". He opened his eyes. The letters were still there on the ceiling. Bt they stopped moving. He wasnt sure if it was a good thing that his heart was still beating. So many times he wished for it to stop. Just to  get rid of all the darkness around him. Of all the blood. Like the blood onthe ceiling which stared down at him. Judging him.

He tried to remember why he even came here. Why he spent the last months in this room. But nothing came to mind.  He looked at his wrists and noticed some cigarette burns. Maybe he tried to hurt himself. Maybe thats why he got locked up. He checked his wrists for more. No scars. "Who knows" he whispered to himself as the door suddenly opened and Dr Finn came in.

"Good morning Mr. Fleck. Could you please starting to get ready? Today is your day, remember? You can go home."

Arthur kept staring at the ceiling "Maám?"

"Yes Mr. Fleck?"

"Why havent you cleaned the ceiling? The bloody letters made me nerveaus all night"

The young doctor with her long, black hair smiled "Thats no blood, Mr. Fleck. You took a lipstick and wrote it two days ago. We cleaned it so many times but you still keep writing it again"

"I see. Its...its my fave song, you know?"

"Mr. Fleck did you hear what I told you? You can now pack your stuff and go home. But no hurry, just take your time, okay?"

The door closed as Arthurs mind wandered again.

He closed his eyes.

"Hey Arthur, how is it going? Did you missed me?"

He saw you standing there on other side of the room.

"I think I did (YN) ... oh yes.. I did !"

"Good to hear, Arthur. I missed you, too. Its been so long."

He kept staring at the corner of the room. You were beautiful, smiling at him.

"I cant wait to touch you again, Artie. To kiss you"

Arthurs hand was still  lying on his chest, now making its way down. He felt his ribs popping out. His skinny body looking starved. He wasnt eating like he should. All the meds stopped his appetite. His hands sliding over his hollow belly, further down and stopped between his legs.

He could hear your voice from across the room.

"Touch yourself for me, Arthur. I am watching you"

He nodded and grinned at you. Then focused on his own body again.

He was in his underwear only and stuck his left hand in it.

The letters on the wall now a lighter red. Lipstick. Obviously.

"You know this is my lipstick right there" he could hear you say.

"The same lipstick I kissed you with, remember?"

He softly started to play with his dick.

"I`m ...not sure (YN) "

He closed his eyes again. He thought it was the lipstick he owned by himself back from the days when he used to put clown make up on. He was a great party clown. With a huge painted on smile. But maybe that was just a story someone told him.

"Oh sure it is mine, Arthur. And I will kiss you again  with it. Till you`re out of breath. I will smear the red all over your face"

"Yeah?" a smirk on the left side of his lips which lifted up his scar. Made him look even more attractive. His almost shoulder long, brown hair  messy pressed against the pillow.

"Sure. And I wouldnt kiss you on your lips only."

Your voice echoed through his head.

"Where else?"

"Keep on touching youself, Arthur. Its my hand doing it."

"Its your hand (YN). Yeah I....I can feel it"

He softly squeezed and caressed the part between his slender legs, biting his lips.

He imagined you, lying on top of him, petting his sweaty curls. Calling him beautiful. It was your hand between his thighs as he felt waves of lust beginning to floath allthrough his body.

He now got rid of his underwear, his gentle hands around his dick which is getting harder as he imagines you rubbing yourself against his shaking body.

"Arthur, I can feel you all the way inside of me. Pull me closer. Please Arthur! Its could be never close enough!"

His hands up and down faster now.A silent moan coming from his thin lips.

He wanted to come closer. Entering your body, wearing you like a coat that keeps him warm in this cold, dark world.

He wanted to get closer to you, so he pushed himself into you. So gently but with an  almost unbearable intensivity. Just like when he was dancing. His face expression somewhere between pain and bliss.

"Arthur. You`re everywhere"

So were you. Your voice was everywhere. It wasnt only whispering in his ear. It filled the room, echoed from the walls. Your voice was a vibration between his legs, telling him to love you till you can`t breathe anymore.

"Do you love me (YN) he whispered.

All he wanted was to be loved. To be touched. he was graving it all through his life.

All this lonelyness was laying heavy on him, like a straight jacket. Holding him back from dancing with the ones he loved.

"I love you more than anything." your voice came from the letters on the ceiling.

"You have so many different sides. And I love every single one of them"

He masturbated harder now, humming.

"I`ve been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate a poet"

Your moans echoing through his head.

"...a poet, a pawn and a king"

"No matter how many ups and downs you may have, Arthur. I will never leave your side. We are one! Can`t you feel it? We are one body, one mind"

""I`ve been up and down and over and out..."

His eyes twitching from excitement. He is breathing heavier now, his long, dark eyelashes fluttering like butterflies.

He can almost taste your tongue in his mouth. Feel your hands touching the sweaty curls in his neck.

His voice still  whispering "I have waited so long for this".

He could feel the blood pulsing in his sensitive parts.

You were the girl of his dreams.

The one he thought about in his darkest hours.

All of his sexual fantasies he wrote in his journal were written about you.

His only light in a world of white walls and darkness.

He felt  the weight of your body on his fragile pelvis.

Arthur pressed his head into the white pillows as he was about to cum.

He couldnt take it anymore.

"(YN) *moaning* Oh my god, this is just....fuck me. Please (YN). Love me!"

Red lettering  blurring his vision.

He couldnt read what it says cuz the feeling of being able to cum this hard overwhelms him.

Black out.

Melodies.

So many melodies which don`t fit to each other.

So many colors blurring his mind.

Arthur presses his hands against his ears.

The sound won`t go away.

"(YN) ? "

No answer.

His hands are touching the sheets, so he could check if he was still lying in bed.

He was. Wet sheets.

His eyes wandered across the room.

He was alone.

Arthur touched his forehead to check if he had a fever dream.

He was unsure.

His greasy curls hanging in his tired eyes.

He felt a bit ashamed while he was putting his white underwear back on.

He crawled back under the sheets which he wished smelled like him but they didnt.

Another stare to the ceiling.

Red letters.

Lipstick. Blood maybe.

Someone was knocking at the door.

"Knock knock" he said as the door opened.

"Mr. Fleck, time to wake up. Maybe you will try to eat a bit more today?! You lost some weight again"

Arthur closed his eyes.

"You came earlier and  told me I can go home now"

Dr. Finn picked up the diary from the floor.

Taking a close look through the new written pages.

"More song lyrics, huh Mr. Fleck? I am afraid you can`t go home. Its the first time I visited you today. Have you took your medication?"

"Mhhh hhmmm"

"Did you had some visions again, Mr Fleck?"

The melodies got more quitet now.

The walls looked  bright and shiney.

Even the lettering on the ceiling was gone.

All cleaned up.

He put his finger upon his lips, looking in the doctors eyes. Humming. Silently. But you could still hear the words coming out of his mouth.

"..some people get their kicks, stompin on a dream"

Arthur smiled.

THE END

[sinfullytempting]

Temptations (????)

(A/N) this is going to be a really long chapter actually, Seonghwa is only here for a little but the next sin shows up later in this chapter and ill put his up as soon as he shows up!

Tag list: @needyateez /  @cafesan / @a-revolution-teez / @sailor-san​ /

San (Lust 1) / Yeosang (Gluttony 2) / Seonghwa (Greed 3) / ????? (???? 4) / Filler Chapter (5)

Flashback:

You nodded and grabbed clothes before heading into your bathroom, throwing a glance back at San who grinned at you from the chair at your table. “Go on or ill come in to help you change!” You threw a glare before slamming the door shut behind you, letting San’s laughter seep through the door.

“I hate sins…”

“Dont lie baby you love us!”

“I only tolerate some of you, aka Yeosang!”

Present:

You turned towards San once inside your room, letting Seonghwa clean up. “You, tell me more about these Guardian angels.” You cocked your head to the side as you half glared at the kitchen door. “And why sins are randomly showing up. Apart from Yeosang because I enjoy his presence so far.”

San cocked his hip out and crossed his arms, huffing as you mimicked his pose, ignoring the first part of the question. “First, the others are just curious about you, plus I know who’s probably going to be next but that’s for me to know and you to find out.” The corner of his lips quirked up in a smug smile, like he knew something you didn’t, which he did, plenty of things.

You huffed as you turned towards your dresser to pick out some pj’s, “…is Seonghwa going to stay over?” San shrugged. “I won’t let him.” You flushed before you grabbed clothes and escaped into your bathroom, passing the rapidly cleaning Seonghwa who shot you a soft smirk causing your cheeks to flush deeper, not used to having one, let alone two, highly attractive boys, even if they were demons, wandering around your flat.

You locked the door and slid down it, breathing deeply. Yeosang was the only one you could handle, you couldn’t even handle San at the moment, and you doubted you ever would be able to. and Seonghwa seemed like a whole handful along with San, and you didn’t know how much of a hassle the other sins would be. You brushed your hair back before changing into your pj’s.

“You’re not staying here.” You hear once you finish changing, leaning against the door. You hear Seonghwa scoff out a mocking laugh. “I’m not going anywhere lust. San huffs. “I am stronger than you, i will forcefully remove you.” You hear San hiss, annoyed at Seonghwa’s mocking tone then hearing the laugh that follows. “You think that matters?” Seonghwa snarks and you cautiously opened the door, thanking the day you put WD-40 to keep it from creaking as you opened it a little bit to peek out, interested in the conversation.

“It will work, I will use my powers, and you won’t be able to resist. I’m stronger than you Seonghwa, remember that.” San walked closer, stopping right in front of him, fingers itching to wrap around his neck and choke him into his place as the weaker one of the two. “Try me.” San had his hand wrapped around Seonghwa’s neck within seconds of the words slipping from his lips. His hand tightened as a faint threat, pinning Seonghwa against the wall as he leaned closer.

“You will leave.” San spoke, voice deeper, cat eyes narrowed in anger as he tightened his grip around his neck. “Do you want me to make it worse greed?” You stayed quiet, watching Seonghwa’s body relax. “Understood.” San smiled, dropping Seonghwa and stepped to the side. “Goodbye Seonghwa.” Seonghwa glared at him before his feet automatically took him to the door as he quietly cursed San’s strength, the command making the elders feet move if he liked it or not.

San turned around and you acted as if you had just finished changing, yawning as you stepped out. You werent stupid, you know San was aware of you watching. He was giving you a small show on his powers, he wanted to make sure you wouldnt step out of place and rebel against him should you feel the need.

You would be lying if you said his display of power gave you a slight jolt of fear. Seonghwa, who was taller, and older (apparently) submitted to easily to San, and for some reason it blew your mind.

“Uhm…can i ask you a question?” San hummed as he walked closer, almost guiding you towards your room. “Depends on the question.” He cooed.

Being around San made you feel like you were being hunted, cat like eyes almost always narrowed, a smirk on his lips. Like he was a predator, and technically he was, he preyed on those who made him his sin.

“You said you had 7 other brothers right?” He nodded, listening carefully. “Do you guys have an age order? Or does it go by power?” He watched you carefully as you both stopped in front of your room. You felt like you were being judged, examined like he was about to dissect you, you felt unnerved. “We do have ages.” He grinned, almost crowding you against the door. “..can i know?” He hummed, resting a hand on your hip. “Seonghwa is older, but with power i’m first. Then its me, then its Agony, then Pride, Yeosang, Sloth, Envy, and lastly is Wrath. Hes the youngest but not by much.”

He had gotten closer at that point, breathing fanning across your lips and noses almost touching. “Give me what I need.” He murmured and your eyes dropped, feeling yourself submitting but managing to open the door and stopping things from going further, your breath hitched as you caught yourself but not before San almost fell with you, catching you as well. “What the fuck?” His grip around you tightened, nails digging into your skin and you whimpered, squirming. “San please, you’re hurting me.” He narrowed his eyes before removing his nails.

This was different, you were his prey and he had caught you, and he was angry. He reminded you of a panther, unnerving stare, teeth bared slightly as he growled deep in his throat. “That wasn’t a smart idea princess.” He stood up straight, pushing you back towards your bed. “But since you don’t know your limits yet, ill let it go.” He took a deep breath to calm himself down. “Don’t anger me because you wont like the consequences. Understood?” You nodded and he smiled, mood changing before you could blink. “I even changed your sheets from all the blood that happened!”

You mean the blood you caused? You snarkily commented in your head, forgetting he could read and hear your thoughts. “Yes the blood I caused, and it’ll happen again once i put finish the claim on you. It’ll look so pretty, right on your hip by your navel.” He murmured quietly, stroking the skin once he was close enough and you squirmed, not wanting to admit you were ticklish.

“Will it hurt?” He hummed, ignoring the question. “Time to sleep.” You huffed before rubbing your eyes, suddenly tired. “Did you make me tired.” At his grin you pouted but got into bed, covering up all the way. “You’re not sleeping beside me.” You turned to face the sin himself and he feigned a pout, crossing his arms. “But princess, why not?” You huffed. “Because I don’t know what you’ll try.” He shrugged. “What’s stopping me from crawling in once you fall asleep?” You twitched, half glaring and he chuckled, holding his hands up. “Alright princess i won’t.” He rose a brow, turning towards the door and leaving.

Walking down the hall and towards the window, He opened it and licked his lips, sighing quietly and he inhaled the familiar scent, soft scent of evergreen trees, exclusive only to the ever lovely Sin of Envy.

Jung Wooyoung.

San (Lust 1) / Yeosang (Gluttony 2) / Seonghwa (Greed 3) / Wooyoung (Envy 4) / Filler Chapter (5)

“Wooyoung? I can smell you.” Green smoke appeared, followed by a black haired boy, pouting as he slipped inside. “How kind of you to let me in but not let me see her. It’s not fair Seonghwa hyung and Yeosang have before me.” He pointed at San. “Plus I was so close to claiming her until you showed up.” He whined, punching San in the chest weakly.

Calming down Wooyoung looked around San, looking down the hall before standing up straight. “Yeosang told me that Felix was her possible angel? Where did he go?” Wooyoung crossed his arms, frowning. “Changbin said a while ago that Felix never just ‘disappears’ so…” Wooyoung lit up before he frowned again. “What if he left her on purpose? He basically gave her to us on a silver platter.” He moved towards the living room and plopped on the couch, crossing one leg over the other.

“San…what if this was on purpose? But why would he, the strongest guardian angel, leave her?” He crossed his arms again, sinking into the couch more, tilting his head back and humming as San walked closer, fingers sliding across the sun kissed skin of Wooyoung’s neck. “Are you pent up Sannie? Seonghwa hyung came back angry.” He chuckled as San’s nails dug into his neck carefully. “She pushed me away and didnt give me a kiss like i needed.” Wooyoung hummed, closing his eyes and letting San’s fingers explore his skin. “I forgot your thing for necks.” He whispered before San pulled away and sighed.

“I need her kiss, with consent because im not a monster-”

“Sannie you’re a demon, the devil himself-”

“Not the point Woo. Even if im the devil himself, i know what consent is.” San rose a brow and cocked his hip out. “Jung Wooyoung, you better be using consent as well.” Wooyoung rose his hands up, marking himself innocent. “I do.” San nodded before sitting down beside him, grunting quietly as Wooyoung threw his legs over his lap. “When does she wake up?” San hummed, glancing at the clock. “She has a lecture at about nine am so, about seven thirty she wakes up and showers before eating breakfast, then leaves.”

Wooyoung shot him a confused look at San’s detailed answer. “Havent you know her for less then a day?” San grinned, winking. “You see a lot when you claim someone, youve claimed plenty of people, have you never focused on them or are you envious everytime one of us claims someone? Thats not your sin, youre not to be greedy Wooyoung.” Wooyoung shrugged. “You may be lust San, but do you notice that you have a little bit of every sin inside you? You have a lot of pride in you, let alone some of envy. You have a lot of me.” Wooyoung smirked, hinting at the past. “I may but you enjoyed it so much.” San whispered, shooting Wooyoung a look. “I have plenty of you inside me.” He grinned before glancing at San.

“I’ll stay here and introduce myself once she gets ready.” Wooyoung hummed, shifting so he could curl up against San, resting his head on San’s shoulder. “You’re so clingy.” San whispered, sighing dramatically before reaching for the TV remote and lowering the volume before turning on a random movie, letting the younger sin slowly fall asleep once he covered them up with a blanket resting behind them on the back of the couch.

San sighed, letting his head fall back against the cushions, one arm wrapped around Wooyoung’s waist. “You’re like a child.” He whispered before counting the minutes go by and eventually the hours. Once it hits Seven am and the next movie out of 3 hes watched ends he picks up Wooyoung and places him on the couch before creeping towards your door. Opening it he closes the door quietly behind him and sits on the edge of your bed.

Watching carefully as he slides a hand up over your leg towards your hip. “If you wake up now ill cook for you~” He murmurs as he moves closer, dropping his hand so his fingers brush against the writing before up towards your neck, raising a brow when you lean into it. “Oh?” He whispers before he strokes the skin carefully before he moves his hand up and through your hair. “Princess wake up.” He hums.

“Dont wanna…” You mumble and he smirks. “Dont make me spank you.” He purrs, laughing as you shoot up, eyes still shut before they open the slightest bit to glare at him. “Why are you still here? Go home, go away.” You grumble. “Dont you have somewhere else to be?” He shook his head. “Now that ive claimed you, i dont have to be anywhere but where you are.” You grunt and rub your eyes, tempted to kick San out of your bed and you actually try, only for him to catch it. “Thats a no no Y/n.” He yanks your leg back, you crying out at the pinch of skin and the feeling of not properly stretching before being yanked down the bed.

He grins at your cry, humming. “If you were a good girl this wouldn’t have happened.” San shifts his body so hes sitting between your legs and you feel sharp teeth threaten the skin of your inner thigh before they pierce the skin, his grip on your legs keeping them from moving as you squirm and try to kick him but freeze at the feeling of sharp teeth in your thigh, not wanting anything to tear.

San pulls away and watches the blood trickle down, humming quietly. “Is this how i have to make you stop now? Biting you?” He purred, licking the blood off and moving to stand up. “Go get changed.” San smiled but you knew it was a warning. Getting up you glanced at the clock before grabbing an oversized hoodie and some warm leggings and glaring at San.

“Can you atleast let me change in my own room?” You mumbled, holding your clothes to your chest. San sighed dramatically before he turned on his heel and walked of the door. “I’ll be right out if you need me.” You huffed. “Good thing I wont!” You yelled as he closed the door, changing quickly before he could change his mind. You swung the door open, resisting the urge to blatantly check San out as you found him leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, a smirk painted on his lips again. “Hello princess.” You huffed as you walked out and down the hall and into the kitchen.

You had to hold back a scream once you noticed another male sitting on the couch, legs crossed and arms laying across the back of the couch with a blanket thrown over him. “Sannie it was rude to just up and leave me.” He pouted, turning to look at you. He took a second before he was up and in front of you. “You must me Y/n!” He grinned, green eyes sparkling. “Im Wooyoung, Envy is my sin.” He feigned a pout, crossing his arms. “Sannie claimed you before i could get to you, then im not the first person to see you after?”

“Woo give her a chance to breath, you scared the poor girl.” San spoke, coming up behind you. With San’s presence behind you it could help but make you relax a bit aside from the threat moments earlier of biting you into submission, you knew San wouldn’t do anything, despite knowing him for only a day now.

“I apologize~” You blinked a few times, noticing the others scent. “Did…Do you all have like, a special scent?” San hummed softly. “Yes. But we dont know what ourselves smell like, so love, tell me what I smell like?” You twitched in your spot as San walked closer. “…like cinnamon, alluring and addicting. A little mysterious as well.” He cooed quietly.

“Would you like to skip class and get to know Wooyoungie? He will follow you around whining if you say no…” You slide your eyes towards ‘Wooyoungie’ and bite your lip, the boy was looking at you with the purest form of puppy eyes. “I really need to go to my lecture…” You watched him physically wilt. “…but im sure i can get Min to write down notes for me…” You mumbled reluctantly but he perked up, smiling growing on his lips and you groaned, rubbing your eyes. “Can i go back to sleep then? I dont want to be awake if i dont have to be.” You narrowed your eyes. “How long have you been here.” You crossed your arms, frowning.

“Not long after Sannie left your room last night, probably moments after.” He hummed quietly and you stared at him for a moment before walking to the kitchen. “All these sins just appearing out of nowhere….” You grumbled to yourself, searching for fruit snacks in your cupboard before smiling as you found them. “There you are…” You smile widely, opening the bag and shoving some in your mouth before turning around to look at both of the boys.

“So what now?”

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Five Ways of Saying I Love You

Pairing: Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: Five ways that Roger shows her he loves her

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Sorry it’s been a few days since I’ve posted anything - please let me know what you think of it! I love hearing what all of you have to say about my writing! And remember that I reply with my main blog @ijustreallylovezebras, I hope you all had wonderful days xx

Roger wasn’t good with telling Y/N he loved her. She knew he did, and she knew that she loved him too - he was well aware of it as well, she was constantly reminding him. Roger just wasn’t good at saying it.

He could show it though, he was really good at showing it.

“I’m going to really miss you,” Y/N sighed, resting her head on his bare chest, tracing careful shapes onto his pale skin. Roger twined his fingers through her hair, gently tugging the knots out of it.

“I’m going to miss you too, Princess,” he murmured, lacing his free hand with her small one - the one that wasn’t resting on his chest. Y/N gave their hands a squeeze before placing a gentle kiss to his hand. “You could still come with me, the boys wouldn’t mind - they’d love it to be honest,” Roger said and Y/N moved her head to give him a sad smile.

“I can’t do that, Rog,”

“I know, it’s a nice thought though,” Roger sighed, squeezing her hand again.

“What time are you leaving, again?” She asked, cuddling closer into his chest.

“Six in the morning,” Roger groaned. “I’ll leave you asleep, Princess,”

“Don’t! I want to say goodbye to you,” Y/N whined, kissing his bare skin and Roger shivered at the action, a soft smile forming on his face again.

“Six is really early, Darling,” he pointed out but Y/N shook her head.

“It’s worth it for you,” she declared and Roger chuckled.

“You’re so cute,”

“I love you,” Roger hugged her a little tighter and he felt her smile against his chest.

The next morning, Roger woke at five, carefully sliding out from under his girlfriend, who was asleep on his chest. He brushed some hair from her face, smiling down at her, feeling himself falling further in love with her. He changed quickly, running a brush through his hair.

“Princess?” Roger whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. Y/N let out a quiet moan as she blinked her eyes open. A wide smile took over her face upon seeing Roger and she reached up to rub her eyes but Roger caught her hands in his. “Don’t wake up properly, Y/N/N, I’m leaving now okay? Go back to sleep and I’ll see you in six weeks,” he said, keeping his voice low and quiet before leaning to press a kiss against her forehead. Then he straightened up, turning to leave the room. 

“Wait - Rog!” Y/N called, swinging her legs out of bed and running to him, jumping up to hug him from behind.

“Princess,” Roger laughed, turning around and hugging her back tightly. “I’ll miss you,” he said and Y/N looked up, eyes cloudy, and pressed her lips firmly against his.

“I’ll miss you too,” she whispered. Roger gave her a gentle smile, kissing her once more.

“Get some rest, Princess,”

“Rock the world, Rog,”

“Just for you, Y/N/N,” he murmured and then picked her up, placing her back under the covers and kissing her forehead. “Have a good day at work,”

“I love you,” she called quietly as he left the room. Roger turned only to blow her another kiss, the words drying up in his mouth. 

When Y/N woke later that morning, a sadness weighed on her chest upon remembering the absence of Roger’s presence. She sighed and pushed herself out of bed, wrapping herself up in one of his jumpers that he had left behind. She trudged into the kitchen, and stopped, her brows furrowing at the appearance of a box on the table with her name scrawled across the top in Roger’s messy handwriting.

She opened it and her eyes welled up with tears at the image of dozens of envelopes each addressed to her.

Even though he didn’t say it very much, Y/N could tell that Roger loved her.

Since going on tour two weeks ago, Roger had called Y/N up every night without fail to talk to her and ask about her day, make sure she was okay and happy and not missing him too much. The last question always made her laugh, because of course she was missing him an extraordinarily large amount. But tonight Roger had warned her that he probably wouldn’t be able to call, as the boys were all going to a party that started straight after the concert, the time that Roger usually reserved for talking to the love of his life.

Which was why Y/N was confused as to why the phone was ringing. 

“Rog? Aren’t you at a party?” Y/N asked as she furrowed her brows and tugged her hand through her messy hair.

“Yeah - I just missed you too much,” she could tell from the slight slur of his voice that he was drunk.

“I miss you too, Rog,”

“I felt bad for not calling you tonight,” he explained, sounding disappointed in himself. Y/N gave a quiet laugh, shaking her head.

“You have a busy life, Darling, you don’t need to worry about it,” she assured him and Roger whined a little.

“You’re too good for me,” he declared. Y/N laughed, shaking her head despite knowing that Roger wouldn’t be able to see her.

“That’s the opposite of true,”

“You’re perfect,”

“You’re so cute,”  she told him. “But you should definitely go enjoy your party,”

“I have more fun talking to you than I have at any party,” Roger informed her seriously and Y/N giggled at his words.

“If you don’t go to the party then you know Freddie will give both of us a hard time about it,” Y/N pointed out. Roger groaned.

“I just miss you so so so so so much,”

“I miss you lots too,” Y/N’s voice was quiet and Roger easily picked up on her sad tone.

“Don’t be sad!” He demanded. “I’ll be back before you know it,”

“I love you,” Roger smiled, as he always did when Y/N told him that.

“I don’t want to hang up,” Roger pouted and Y/N chuckled. Roger could almost see her shaking her head at him.

“Go and have fun, Rog, I don’t want to hold you back,”

“You never hold me back! I like talking to you!” He protested. Y/N covered her mouth to contain her joyful giggle.

“You’re very drunk, Rog,”

“Calling you was all I could think about,” he admitted quietly in response. Silence settled over the phone as his words sunk in. Y/N bit her lip to stop her smile from stretching too wide. “You’re all I think about,”

Y/N grinned as her took the box from the postman, nodding her thanks to him.

“Have a nice day,” she called after him as he set off back down her driveway. He paused to wave back at her but Y/N had already turned around, eager to open the package.

She had somewhat anticipated it’s arrival - Roger had been dropping hints for the past week, ever since he called her drunk only two weeks into the tour to tell her how much he missed her.

So she had expected something. A letter or a postcard. While Roger had provided her with a shoebox full of letters at the beginning of his tour, he always sent her either a post card or a letter when the boys neared their halfway point. He always admitted to her that he found his written word easier to express his feelings with.

Y/N rumaged through her kitchen draws and picked out a knife, slicing open the box with ease and folding the flaps over, being greeted immediately by the expected postcard. 

She turned it over in excitement.

Hey Princess,

For some reason this tour I’m missing you now more than ever - from our conversations it seems as though you’re feeling the same. So I’ve been buying shit along the way that I thought would either cheer you up or make you think of me or laugh or something. Don’t want my girl missing me too much.

Always yours,

Rog

As always, he had signed off the note with a smily face and three kisses. Y/N beamed at the message, feeling her eyes brim with tears at the thoughtfulness of her boyfriend.

Inside the box lay a teddybear with a cheesy ‘I love you!” shirt on, a pair of drumsticks, one of which had been broken (this was accompanied by another note explaining how Roger had broken them in a show when he was missing her particularly much, a story that, while cute, Y/N didn’t believe for a second as she knew it was the pair that John had told her Roger through at Brian’s head during an argument), there was three of his button up shirts, a box of chocolates and two books that Y/N had been wanting to read for a while but had never gotten around to purchasing.

She stepped away from the box, holding the bear in her hands and hugged it tightly to her chest, letting out soft sobs as she felt the full weight of Roger’s love for her.

Since Roger had returned from tour a week and a half ago, everything had been perfect. Almost perfect. Y/N had been feeling as though she had hardly seen her boyfriend, he was always practicing with the band and, while she understood that the band was important, one of the most important things in Roger’s life, she had missed him.

After expressing these feelings to Roger the previous evening, he had invited his girlfriend to join the band at practice the following day, once Y/N had finished her shift at work. He had been feeling much the same as she had, if he was being honest. While he understood Freddie’s keenness to write the next album so they could start recording ASAP, he wanted nothing more than to spend a little while with Y/N in the comfort of their home. 

She was his priority.

“Y/N!” John was the first to notice her presence as she awkwardly moved into the room. John and Y/N had always been close - the two more soft-spoken members of their band-family had gravitated towards each other in a way that Roger had only hoped they would.

Roger raised his eyebrows as the bassist was quick to cross the room and embrace his girlfriend in a hug.

“Rog said you were coming today!” John beamed. Said drummer stood from behind his kit and joined the two. Freddie gave a dramatic sigh before giving in and joining the group, seeing Brian placing down his guitar as well.

Roger was quick to place his arm around her waist and kiss her cheek. an action that she grinned at, leaning further into his loving touch.

“She’s my priority,” Roger pointed out to John.

“What about the band?” Freddie asked with a raised eyebrow, quickly hugging Y/N in greeting.

“The band’s my other priority, obviously. I play better with her here anyway,” Roger declared, winking at his girlfriend, who shoved his shoulder playfully, the action making him laugh.

“I’m already in love with you, Rog, you don’t need to flirt to bad anymore,” Y/N teased and Roger chuckled, kissing her lips.

“Has he even told you he loves you back?” John asked Y/N later, when Roger and Brian had both returned to their instruments, trying to fit the song together. Freddie was sat in the corner, listening to them with his eyes closed, calculating their next move in the song, as he often did.

“Yeah he has,” Y/N assures her friend quickly.

“He didn’t say it earlier, that’s all,” Y/N smiled at John, shaking her head a little.

“Rog doesn’t like saying it so much - but I know it anyway, he makes sure of it,”

“How’d you mean?”

“It’s the little things, Deaky, like inviting me here today, just so we could spend more time together, or like yesterday when he came home even just an hour earlier to help me cook because he knew I’d been feeling down,”

“That’s sweet,” Y/N’s eyes wandered over to Roger, as they always did. Her blond haired drummer caught her eye and offered her a playful wink, causing the smile to widen on her face.

“I’m just lucky I guess,”

Roger grinned when he entered his house to be greeted by the smell of a home cooked meal.

“Princess?” He called, slipping his shoes off of his feet. “I’m home!”

“I’m in the kitchen,” Roger followed the sound of her voice, smiling even wider as he saw her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and bringing her into a tight hug, feeling her relaxing back into his arms.

“It smells good,” he commented, spinning her around and kissing her. Y/N wound her arms around his neck, smiling up at him before leaning up on her tiptoes again to press another kiss to his lips.

“Thanks, how are the boys? Practice?” Her voice was quiet, content and the soft tones of it helped to relax Roger.

“Stressful - Freddie’s being a dick, he was late again, and then shit all over our ideas,”

“You didn’t fight him did you?”

“No,” Roger paused, mulling over his thoughts. “I don’t think it’s his fault anyway,”

“Paul?” Y/N asked and Roger nodded, leaning down to kiss her again.

“He’s changing Freddie,” the drummer sighed and Y/N gave a sad nod.

“Bring him back, Rog, I know you can,”

“I’m so glad I have you in my life,” Roger commented as he watched Y/N draw away from him, plating up dinner. She looked at him over her shoulder, smiling wide.

“You’re such a dork, how could anyone mistake you for a rock king,” she teased. Roger let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“I am a rock legend,” Roger was quick to disagree.

“Who likes to have his hair plaited,” Y/N was laughing as she placed the plates on the table. Roger squeezed her sides as he walked past her and she squealed away from him, glaring at her boyfriend who just gave her a cheeky grin in reply.

“I’m only a sap for you,”

“That’s... reassuring?” She questioned, cocking an eyebrow. Roger beamed and nodded.

“I love you,” he says suddenly. Y/N’s head snapped up. “I know I don’t say it much but I do,”

“I know you do, Rog,” she said, reaching over the table and grabbing his hand. “And I love you too, you don’t need to say it if you don’t want to,”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that sometimes the words don’t seem enough and... you can fake words,” he said. Y/N squeezed his hand tightly, never wanting to let him go.

“I know, Rog. But it’s okay, I understand,”

“You’re my favourite person on Earth,”

“You’re mine as well,”

[tamaki-amajiki-is-my-baby]

Shigadabi Falling in Love Hcs

Requested by @lunarapocolypse and @leeontheneonx3

- There wasn't really a defining moment when Dabi realized he had a crush on Itchi-Boi Handman™

It build over time and Dabi had a suspicion for a while.

When he really confirmed it, it wasn't some special time, it was just like "oh.. Oh. Oh.”

- For Tomura, however, it was a very specific time.

Tomura's memory isn't perfect, it's not actually that good, but specific moments in his life have the unreal quality of a dream in his mind.

This was one of them.

It was really late at night and Tomura had woken from a nightmare, which happend often and lead to him not liking sleep further, ans he wanted to get a drink and a snack. Maybe steal some whipped cream.

He turned the light on and Dabi was there, leaning on the bar on his elbow, a glass in his other hand. Tomura didn't know what he was drinking but it looked like a Shirley Temple — maybe he'd added alcohol or maybe not.

His feet were to the stool he was next to, his knee up ontop of it.

When Dabi turned toward Tomura, two things came to his mind:

fUCK HE'S PRETTY

And

Does this make me gay?

Dabi stood better, and he asked what Shigaraki was doing up.

Tomura whipped around and walked away without a sound. Everything was catching up to him, a lot of feelings he couldn't recognize or understand, a lot of urges he didn't know why he was getting, and a need to be near Dabi — other than just him radiating heat and Tomura having abnormally low body temperatures.

He knew the reason now.

But he couldn't accept it.

What happens to all the things Shigaraki had allowed himself to love in the past!?

Bad things, that's what.

Seven being disintegrated painfully slowly right in front of the child's eyes, and one being defeated live on TV for all to see.

Tomura realized how much he cared for Dabi in that moment and even without the idea of love in the mix, he was scared.

He didn't want anything to happen to Dabi, he cared too much.

He was trying to not care for anyone so that when they inevitably left him it wouldn't hurt him.

It took him that whole rest of the night to really come to terms.

- Shigaraki started avoiding Dabi.

If he ignored it, it'd go away, right? He would kick these ‘feelings’ into the ground.

But that didn't work.

If anything, it made it worse.

To the point of not being able to keep his face from heating up whenever he was around him.

Dabi would tease him sometimes about it, and that'd make Tomura go insane.

- Tomura wanted to get it off his chest and so he ended up telling Kurogiri.

Of course, with he help of a few drinks.

Kurogiri gave him a few ideas, and Tomura left a note in Dabi's room. He didnt sign it or anything he just wrote something dumb you'd see in a first-grader's handwriting.

Dabi knew it was him and was like actually really happy?

- He couldn't even talk to Tomura about it because he'd started avoiding him again.

That was real annoying and so Dabi went out of his way to catch him.

Tomura didn't like being alone But he was in a bad mood and didn't want to o with Spinner and Toga and Kurogiri somewhere; neither remembered.

Dabi didn't want to go either and so he and Shigaraki were home alone.

- Tomura didn't realize this for a while.

Until he bumped right into him while turning a corner.

Tomura turned, tried to walk away, then realized Dabi's hand was on his shoulder

“Hey, wait.”

Tomura didn't really want to talk to Dabi because he knew his cheeks were already pink, his chest was already tight just because Dabi had his hand on his shoulder.

He even tually did turn around, about to say something when lips met his own. For just a second.

“I got your note, obviously, and you need a better strategy than ignoring me, grandma lips.”

-

But that's not good enough for the first kiss, is it? Yeah I didn't think so. I apologise if Dabi is a bit OOC, I don't write him much.

-

“Gimmie one too.” Shigaraki spoke, sitting down in his normal bar stool (that he didn't let anyone else sit in) and looking at Dabi, who was pouring himself a beer. It was late at night and Dabi assumed he'd woken from a nightmare — he'd been having them a lot recently.

“Wow, I didn't think you could drink.” Of course he was teasing, Shigaraki didn't usually drink, but it was getting a little more frequent with recent events.

“Shut up.” Tomura murmured, tapping his finger on the bar. He knew Dabi hated that sound, fingernails against anything grindd his gears. And Tomura knew this, he just didn't really care. He was in a bad mood — and Dabi did the same thing on practically a daily basis.

It also got hin a full glass sooner. He took a few gulps and gave a sigh. The first taste was always bitter.

“What's on your ass.” Dabi asked, both to be making conversation and because he knew Tomura wanted to rant for a while.

Knowing him, it'd probably be either Deku- Small Might or All Might — even if he was out of the picture now.

“Us and Toga's obsession with it.”

Now that caught Dabi off guard. They'd both known for a while and had made a few moves, but Dabi didn't think anyone in the gang knew.

Foolish.

Toga always knew, of course she did, you couldn't keep anything to do with love away from her no matter what you tried.

And knowing her, she wouldnt try and keep it a secret to anyone else, so everyone would find out eventually. Whether they would beleive it was the only salvation Tomura had. He didn't act any different and neither did Dabi, it wasn't like they suddenly started getting all lovey dovey. They obviously weren't obvious but it wasn't a surprise Himiko found out.

“‘Obsessed,’ ain't that a surprise.” Dabi took a sip of his own drink, grimacing a bit. They were out of his favorite and this one was bitter, but he wasn't going to go digging through cabinets.

“She's a brat,” Shigaraki hissed, resting his elbow on the counter and supporting his head with his fingers through his hair.

“Makin' assumptions then going all out with them..”

“I don't think it's an assumption if it's true.”

“It's not that true.” Shigaraki lifted the glass to his chapped lips again, holding his pinky out and taking a swig. He put it back down on the counter, swallowed hard, then changed his mind and took the last sip.

Tomura slid it across the counter to Dabi, who caught it before it rolled off after it fell over itself. “Whaddya mean 'not that true?'”

Tomura didn't have an answer.

“I think Toga's just annoyed you so you're denying it to more than just her.” Dabi snickered. “I don't see the reason.”

“Just gimmie another one.��

Dabi sighed snd gave Tomura his own glass, since he definetly wasn't going to drink it and he knew Shigaraki wouldn't care. “Last one.”

Tomura scoffed and muttered an insult, taking the cup in his hands. He was sloppy with his fingers, but was still careful.

He wouldnt really admit that it was strong, he didn't care.

“I'm having a feeling that it's not just Toga that's upsetting you.” Dabi said flatly, lowering his eyelids more than they already were lowered from being so heavy. He almost said it teasingly, but was trying to get an answer out of Tomura, since he knew how bad Tomura was at saying it without a prompt. An angry, bottled-up Tomura was not a good Tomura — no matter your relation to him.

“I..” Tomura sighed and tapped his nails against the glass, not with the intention of annoying Dabi anymore. It was a nervous habit.

He didn't finish his sentence, cutting himself off by connecting the glass to his mouth and tilting. He finished it off quickly and put it on the counter. “Just one more?”

“Fine.” Dabi obliged, poured about a quarter of the glass, then cut it half-way when Tomura objected to that amount.

Dabi was a little worried about how much he was drinking, alcohol poisoning was a thing of course, but he'd be in charge of that. He was sober enough.

“Everyone I love gets hurt.” Shigaraki blurted out in a sort of whine, and the taller of the two noticed there wasn't almost any in his glass anymore.

Dabi pressed, “Whaddyu mean?”

“My family, my master..”

HW could fit the pieces together at this point. Tomura was an odd case of what trauma did to the human body and it was kind of fascinating, but Dabi wasn't going to make him sah it. “You're... Worried you're gonna loose me?” It wasn't the kind of question that he was surprised Tomura cared, he knew for a fact that was the truth, it was more asking if that was really what Tomura thought.

“Yeah..” He was itching his neck. “Either you're gonna leave, you're gonna get hurt, or I'm gonna hurt you..”

Dabi reached over the counter and took the smaller's wrist away from his neck, knowing he wouldnt stop even if he drew blood. “I can say with 90% certainty that I ain't gonna leave you.”

Tomura took his hand, looking down and not making eye contact.

Dabi was eyeing his hand but didn't mind much, because Tomura barely had a grip and two of his fingers weren't even close to touching.

It was amazing what just a few drinks could to to Tomura; he could hold his alcohol but he got drunk real fast. Even if this was kind of strong.

All caution in his movements was gone.

“Tasi,” Dabi said, and Tomura looked up. That was his nickname; the first and last letters from his alias' given and family names. Dabi came up with it. He thought it was cute. “Ya trust me, right?”

“Yeah..” Tomura wasn't making eye contact, he honestly hated to.

“Then you can calm down. I'm not gonna leave.”

“Promise?”

God, puppy dog eyes. He probably wasn't even trying to.

Dabi gave him a small kiss, which was originally supposed to be a peck, but Tomura kissed back and he couldn't pull away then.

Tomura could have pulled him over the counter if he wanted, and he probably tried to, but Dabi did pull away, muttering an “You taste like beer” before nodding. “I promise.”

Shigaraki wouldnt let him go, though, and Dabi had to duck a bit.

“Holdon, I'm coming around. You know Kurogiri's gonna be mad if I mess up his bar.” Dabi joked, hearing Tomura whine.

“C'mon.” he walked around and opened his arms, letting Shigaraki wrap his arms around his back.

Dabi hoisted him up with little trouble. Tomura seemed to get ligter every time he had to pull/carry him.

Shigaraki kind of wanted another glass, and also wanted to cuddle, so he kind of reached for the glass without saying much.

Dabi just shook his head, “You're going to bed.”

“Noooo”

Dabi snickered and startee to Tomura's room, keeping him supported.

He maneuvered around the absolute mess in Tomura's room, then laid him on the bed. He didn't let go. “Dabiiiiii....”

“C'mon, Tomrua-”

“Don't goooo”

Dabi sighed, knowing Tomura wouldnt let him go even once he did fall asleep. He crawled into the bed and laid down, at least cherishing the cuddles.

He wondered if this was what Tomura would have been like if nothing in his childhood happened. Or maybe if he was adopted into a good family that could have taken care of his mental illness and trauma.

Dabi wondered a lot.

[ninzied]

another kind of goodbye

for @carry-the-sky. happy birthday, my friend! have a little post-cancellation kastle fic.

It’s three months, give or take, when Frank lets himself think about her again. Really think about her. Not in the passing kind of way, where he’s walking down some street and sees a bouquet of gardenias, like the kind he’d almost gotten her instead of the roses that day. Or when he’s sipping on coffee, and Karen’s face flashes like a mirage at him across the cheap Formica table – blonde hair almost white under the shit diner lighting, but those eyes still so blue as she told him he would never lie to her.

So – okay, so he thinks about her. He thinks about her.

(He wonders if she—)

Frank eventually makes his way back to the city again, after. Another day, another job. Madani thinks he’s meant for something greater than this – than picking off these scum-of-the-earth kinds of assholes that litter the streets of a place like New York.

He can’t believe that he was meant for greater, but. Sometimes, he does wonder. If a part of him – whatever part of him that’s not still buried deep down in the ground with his family – was meant to come back here. To walk these streets and feel the pull of her, always, even when that’s all he can afford to feel.

He tells himself that has to be enough.

He’s been laying low, since his return. Coughed up some cash for a three-hundred-square-footer in Brooklyn, but he crosses the bridge to the city most days, maybe even finds his way to Hell’s Kitchen from time to time too. It’s risky, he knows. If Murdock catches wind of him, they’d be lucky to walk away from each other in one piece. And Karen…

There’d be a different kind of hell to pay, if Karen ever found out.

His phone gives a single buzz in his pocket as he’s hunkering his way down 47th, and he stops in his tracks, nearly colliding with an elderly woman in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Excuse me!” she says in a shrill voice, bag clutched tight to her chest.

“Apologies, ma’am,” he nods as she makes a show of putting as much distance between them as possible, and then he fishes his phone out, hesitating for one absurd moment before glancing down at the screen.

Back in town yet, Castle?

He barks out a laugh. Chrissakes, Madani.

His phone buzzes again.

I have a job for you, if you’re still interested.

“Still,” mutters Frank, with a scoffing shake of his head. He thinks he admires her perseverance, but Madani’s gotta know she’s only wasting her breath.

He cuts south down 10th, toward Lincoln Tunnel. It’s a brisk day, and the wind on his face feels sharper than usual, considering he hasn’t bled much there in a while. He jams his hands deeper into his pockets, ignoring the insistent drone of Madani’s follow-up call.

He’s got a date with a park bench on the wrong side of town, and if he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s the same bridge overlooking the water, and when he opens them again Karen’ll be there, waiting for him.

…

His closest call comes with, of all people, the lawyer. Not Red – the other one. Franklin Nelson.

Frank’s emerging with coffee two storefronts down just as another door opens, and he’s cursing himself for not seeing the signs when out tumbles Nelson with his back turned, adjusting his tie against the wind.

“Foggy bear, wait!” someone else is laughing, and a blonde lady steps out to chase after him, slinging a purse over her shoulder and reaching with her other hand to link around his elbow.

“I told him this was gonna make me late for work,” grumbles Nelson, but without any heat to the words. “Dad’s surprise party isn’t until tomorrow, don’t know why this couldn’t have waited – oh, crap, I forgot I told Karen I’d pick up some coffee—”

Nelson’s about-facing sharply, girlfriend following closely behind. He doesn’t appear to notice Frank crouched down in a corner by the 7-Eleven, hood obscuring half his face as he trains his eyes on the ground by their feet. The girl unearths some coins from her bag as they pass, clinking them onto the lid of Frank’s coffee cup without seeming to hear his low mutter of thanks.

He’s leapt up the moment he hears the door latch shut, brushing the coins into his palm as he goes.

He leaves them with a guy camped out by the train stop, a dog lifting her head from their blankets to blink sleepy eyes up at Frank, and he walks away harder, takes the steps two at a time and wishes – God he wishes—

…

Another text from Madani.

He shuts his phone off. Goes back to retrieve it ten seconds later from the trash can that he’d dumped it in, wiping it down and scowling as her message pops up on the screen.

Castle – offer still stands, FYI.

“You should call her back,” advises a man huddled down by the newsstands next to him. His face is like leather, worn down and weathered with age, with living. “Apologize for whatever it is that you did, so you don’t end up out here like me.”

“Already there,” Frank tells him, turning the phone over and over in his hand. Madani’s message lights up again each time, flashing and flashing until he sees it like a burn through his retinas even when the phone’s no longer facing him.

“Damn. That’s a damn shame.” The guy shifts, scratching at a spot on his back. “Maybe shouldn’t’ve stayed away from her for so long.”

Frank shakes his head, uttering a short, incredulous laugh. “Well, maybe I got my reasons, yeah? You think about that?”

“Doesn’t matter what I think,” shrugs the guy. “Does she think they’re any good? These reasons of yours?”

Frank turns away, jaw working furiously.

“Yeah.” The guy shouldn’t have any right to sound as smug as he does, and yet. “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

…

He’s got no place in coming here. He knows it. He knows it, but he thinks it was always meant to be this way, him circling back around to her, even after everything that he’s done to push her away. Maybe a part of him had never left. And the rest is just – there, hovering right at the edge of some sharp realization, that he could try to be whole again if he simply took that first step. And a part of Karen must at least sense that. It’s why she’d never really given up on him, before.

It doesn’t change how I feel about you.

Frank wonders if she’d forgive him this time. If he’d even want her to.

It wouldn’t be anything close to what he deserves, that’s for goddamn sure.

He gazes up at her fire escape, counts the number of steps it would take just to be able to reach that bottom rung from his vantage point across the street. Her shades are drawn, the lines of them blurred out in the dim orange light. On one corner of the windowsill, wedged up against the glass, there’s a small stack of books. On the other, a vase. From this angle, the shadows folded into the fabric of her curtains look almost like flower stems.

Frank squints, and the stems disappear.

…

There’s about a week in between, where he feels himself inching closer to something, each time he drops by her block. He never goes farther than the patch of sidewalk across from her building, but it’s getting harder not to just careen over the ledge.

More than anything, he wishes he knew, in those moments obscured in half-darkness, whether he’s come to look for that after she’d spoke of, or if he’s come to say goodbye.

Then, one day he spots flowers in her window, for the first time since—

(They’re pale white against the cream of her curtains, their stems dark slivers of green, and he imagines them pricking the pad of his thumb, drawing up a spot of blood.)

Frank takes a deep breath.

…

She doesn’t look surprised to see him when she opens the door, swinging it back two-thirds of the way before stopping. Her lips are pressed tightly together, like there’s too much to say, or maybe there’s things that she can’t, either way he can’t read her and he thinks she’s never terrified him more.

Frank drops his gaze, mouth moving soundlessly until the words grind their way out. “How’d you know I was here, Karen?”

He’s not sure what kind of answer he’s expecting. That Nelson had grown a real pair of eyes, or that Red had managed to ferret him out of his lurking somehow. Or maybe Karen really just hadn’t known at all, and those flowers were never for him.

What Karen says instead is, “Dinah and I grab a beer together, sometimes.”

“That right?” he asks, trying to lay out an image of this in his mind. It sits strangely there, stumping him for a moment, and some of his bewilderment must show on his face because Karen’s mouth almost turns up in a smile before flattening again.

She leans away from the doorjamb, waving her hand in a worn-looking gesture before letting it drop to her side. “Besides, you…haven’t exactly been subtle, in your haunting of Hell’s Kitchen.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, other than a gruff, “’S’what dead men do, Karen,” as she folds her arms and sighs at him.

“You sure you’re not just losing your touch, Frank?” She steps into the doorway, whether to move closer to him or to block him out of her apartment, he can’t tell. “Or was it because you wanted me to know but couldn’t tell me to my face?”

His eyes snap up to hers, twitching slightly under the sharp weight of her gaze. He shakes his head, wishing he could just ask her, What do you want from me, Karen? but they’re long past that now, and if he can’t find his own way to answer her, then.

God, he really doesn’t deserve this woman.

“I think I—” He shifts his body and tries again. “I think I needed to figure some things out. Karen. I was waiting 'til I felt like I was ready, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that.” But I’m here, he wants to say, but I’m here.

“Yeah.” Karen’s nodding, hair falling into her face, and she brushes it back, resting her chin in her palm for a moment. “I know that, Frank.” All of the fight in her seems to have ebbed slowly back, and he resists the urge to reach out and shake the storm back into motion, to make her understand she doesn’t get to let him off the hook so easy.

The look she gives him now is softer, but he knows. Fight’s not done. May never be done. And he knows this because he knows he’ll never stop fighting for her.

She’s stepped back into the door, letting it swing open further. She doesn’t invite him in, but she’s quirked an eyebrow up at him, biting her lip with another deep sigh and a shake of her head.

“You, uh.” Frank glances back and forth at their surroundings, doesn’t quite meet her eye. Tries to lighten his tone through the gruffness as he asks her, “So, you wanted to see me?”

Her voice is soft, forbearing, with a hint of gentle knowing behind it. “You didn’t?”

She’s holding back the clear start of a smile from him this time, and Frank. Christ. It’s taking everything in him not to step toward her, to—

Karen tilts her chin at him, the motion loosening another wave of blonde hair, and he can’t remember anymore why he was trying so hard to stand back from all this. He’s moving, swaying forward until she’s just an arm’s length away, and there’s something almost teasing about the way she relaxes her shoulder into the door as she watches him.

“You back to kill some people, Frank?”

He feels a corner of his mouth turn up. This girl. He licks his lips, lets out a quiet sort of laugh. “That was the plan, yeah.”

Karen gazes up at him, unblinking. “Have you?”

“I was—” Frank has to look away for a moment, finally turning back when he can. His eyes are steady, boring into hers, voice low and full with meaning. “I was. Working on it.”

Karen nods. Doesn’t speak for long seconds, and he measures them out in heartbeats, chest tightening hard enough it feels like it might break when she asks him, very carefully, “Still?”

Frank steps closer, close enough to feel the way her breath shakes with a small sigh, how her body moves away from the door to meet him.

His hand is inches from hers, but he doesn’t reach for her. Not yet.

She waits, gaze searching. He gives the barest shake of his head, and a single word, gravel-filled, a promise. “No.”

Something cracks open in her expression, and it means everything to him, her head ducking away as though she can’t have him looking too closely at the way she's biting back that smile of hers, and he thinks – he thinks he wants to make her do it again, and again, for as long as she will have him.

“Would you like to come in, Frank?”

He takes her hand in his this time, feeling the pull of her as he steps across the threshold, door shutting firmly behind them, and it feels like coming home.

[masosade]

A Second Chance

“I would’ve dropped  you off at Neil’s, but he’s been trying my patience lately. So why bother? I am sure someone will come pick you up eventually.” Alice smiled coldly as she watched formerly half-of Maso take his first shaky steps out of the grimdark Office. The body she had salvaged from another unfortunate Stellan - one whose soul had been reincarnated after his young demise – had been patched up and handed down.

"And remember! If you ever come back to cuase trouble in the grimdark Office again, your death will be an exceptionally long and painful one!" Alice chirped, her fingernails digging into Stellan's shoulder painfully. He jerked back, wincing, and averted his eyes.  

“Perfect! I am glad we understand each other. Now, off you go, shoo!”

Stellan turned down the hallway. It was unfamiliar, looked like every other Office they’ve been to. With a sinking heart, he remembered he wouldn’t have Bradley here to guide him. He wished he would’ve paid more attention to their previous travels.

However, the things out there were most likely much better than what he was leaving behind. He felt Alice’s gaze linger a few seconds longer as he limped away, before she vanished back in her Office.

And then Stellan was alone.

His new body ached and stung from the stitches Jagger had put in after it had been rescued from a grave. Its eyes felt weak and its feet clumsily stumbled over each other. Either they had given him a second rate body to sit in, or he had to get used to having a body on his own for the first time in years.

It was ironic, actually. Stellan had dreamed of owning a very own body for himself on many occaisons, one where he could do what he want and go wherever, with no one else there to tell him what to do. Now he just felt cold and empty. He wished Bradley were here to fill the silence. When he reached out for that presence at the forefront of his mind, he felt nothing but hollow numbness, like tonguing a missing tooth.

Finally free and Stellan was fucking miserable.

He made his way down the hallways, taking random turns in whatever direction felt like it could lead him somewhere better. The Lounge sat empty, its seats covered in thick dust and the vending machine leaking with unidentifiable fluids. Not an abnormal sight to see, if rare, but some Offices shut down after their Stanleys and Narrators leave, or are killed, or kidnapped, or fall in love and move to another one, abandoning their original Offices.

It felt like the Universe took great joy in mocking Stellan, reminding him of how utterly alone he was. For the first time in years, he wanted to find a bottle that smelled as strongly as the juices drenching the Lounge’s carpets and drink it until he forgot everything but the burning in his throat. He had curbed his alcoholism nearly a decade prior, dreaming without it he could hold a good job, pull himself out of the mess his life had become and afford starting again in a better community.

Ever since he took the first step for change, accepting an office job promising to uphold a decent lifestyle, things haven’t stopped spiraling downwards.

‘Maybe I should’ve stayed a drunkard,’ Stellan thought bitterly as he focused on placing a foot in front of the other. Both the pain and the fogginess in his mind made it difficult to walk straight.

‘Ending up with liver poison and a friendly face per night would’ve been a much better fate. Hell, I could’ve met someone nice and spent an average life with them. But noo, I had to become a better person and start dreaming. And look where that got me.’

So wrapped up in his self loathing, Stellan didn’t notice another Stanley standing in the middle of the hallway until he nearly ran straight into him. In a flash, his thoughts had vanished and he couldn’t help stare.

The other Stanley...looked normal enough. He had the typical brown hair parted in the middle and messy with a morning look, warm brown eyes, and freckles scattered playfully on his nose. His employee outfit clean and nicely ironed; the nametag which read 'Hi! My name is Stanley!' looked new.

He looked normal but he didnt feel normal. This Office was abandoned, no doubt, so where had he come from? If he were a new Stanley, surely he would be frightened with the change of scenery and lack of directions.

Yet he simply stood there and smiled at Stellan, like they had agreed to meet up and Stanley was happy he came.

"Uhh?" Stellan tried and his vocal cords cringed at the unaccustomed strain. He coughed awkwardly and tried again, this time managing a hoarse mutter.

“H-hey, can you help me? I think I’m lost.”

"Of course I can help!" The Stanley said, his voice surprisingly gentle. He offered his hand for Stellan to take. "Come with me, I can take you somewhere safe!"

His eyes gleamed brightly in the dim hallway and for a moment Stellan wondered if he had stumbled upon another illusion of a Jonathan. Maybe it had been abandoned after the Narrator left and was never taken care of. But when Stellan hesitantly took his hand, it was warm and human to the touch. Not even Jonathan could imagine an illusion that felt so real.

The other Stanley beamed with joy and Stellan glanced away.

The Office looked even worse than Stellan had expected. Beyond the Lounge, as they headed back towards room 427, he noticed some rooms had their ceilings caved in, others with windows shattered. The left door was blocked completely with some filing cabinets but his mysterious guide didn't bat an eye at the havoc.

They turned into another hallway past room 420, and headed deeper. Stellan gave up trying to make sense of where they are going so he focused on the warm hand clutching his. It felt so foreign to be holding it and comforting at the same time.

“You’ve got a long journey behind you, don’t you?” The other Stanley said, sometime after they passed through another portal finally, into another Office. It smelled warm like a heated kitchen and no matter how hard Stellan looked, he couldnt find even one piece of stray paper on the ground.

“You dont know the half of it,” Stellan muttered. He tried to focus on walking, grateful for the hand clutching his. Without it he would’ve surely tripped over his own feet.

“I think I might,” Stanley said, smiling. Stellan shot him a questioning look, but he didn’t offer to elaborate.

“...did someone send you to get me?”

“This way.”

It’s been barely an hour, they couldn’t have known the exact moment I was released, could they?

Whoever they were. Countless of people around the Offices stuck their nosy noses in other people’s business. Stellan could name ten on the top of his head who may have had even the abandoned Offices bugged, grimdarks and the laboratories of one certain evil Narrator included.

Maybe it was desperation talking, or his inability to care about what pain could be further induced on him at this point, emotional or physical. But the other Stanley didnt feel evil. Even if he was mysterious, came out of nowhere and now held a tight grip to his hand as they wandered further into the hallway’s mazes.

If he wanted to hurt Stellan, he could have done it by now.

Unless he is taking you back to the laboratories, a tiny voice quipped.

I’m useless now. Bradley has the body, not me.

You’re not useless. Their whole experiments were centered around pain, werent they? Maybe they’re trying to see how far they can break you.

… then let them. I don’t give a shit anymore, and if they want to fuse me with more Bradleys. I’m tired. I don’t care.

Stanley stopped suddenly in front of a door. He turned back to Stellan and, while he never stopped smiling, it brightened when he looked at him.

“In here.” Stanley said.

“What…?” Stellan glanced at the door. “What’s in there?”

“Oh, didnt I already say? It’s a second chance for both of you.”

Both? Stellan stared in bewilderment and got a knowing smile as an answer.

Wait...

“...Bradley….Bradley is in there too?” How did he get past Alice and her security and her monsters to get him out? She was very clear in what she wanted to do with his other half and how she would maim anyone who tried to free Bradley of his ‘punishment’. Even if the ‘good guys’ wanted to save Bradley, it wouldnt make any sense. Stellan’s own alternate, one of those self proclaimed Office Heroes, even he took part in their capture.

“Life is more than hurting and getting hurt.” The other Stanley continued, infuriatingly vague. “We all have done things we regret, but it doesnt mean we need to suffer for the rest of our lives for it.”

He reached out and cupped his hands around Stellan’s face, and Stel startled at how warm they were. Ever snce Maso – no. Ever since the Office, the hands touching him had been cruel, painful. Cold fingers of scientists prodding, Jagger and his scalpels, agony created by Alice and his very own hands. And yet Stanley’s were so gentle, soft and merciful. Stellan leaned into the touch unconsciously.

His chest stung with an unwanted tightness.

“You’re going to be okay.” The Stanley said. “You and him. I promise.”

Stel was tempted to bite back with sarcasm, but it felt ungrateful to spoil his optimism with bitterness. Instead he hung his head, ashamed.

“We dont deserve a second chance,” he muttered. The hands withdrew from his face and even in the surprisingly warm Office air, Stel felt colder. He waited, but no reply came and when he looked  up again, the hallway was empty.

The other Stanley had vanished.

Stellan sighed and turned back to the door. It looked so simple a few minutes ago and now it seemed more daunting, at the thought of seeing him again. Bradley might blame him for leaving him alone, but Stellan was more afraid he wouldn’t hesitate a second if Bradley offered him a chance to come back.

Anything was better than suffering alone. At least Bradley understood him.

Stellan gathered up his nerves and reached out for the door handle. It stuck, forcing him to rattle it a few times before he managed to get it open. His heart beat hard in his throat.

Now or never, he thought. The door swung open and Stellan stepped inside.

A single desk lamp struggled to light the room, though its glow couldn't reach past the cramped corner in which the cot sat. On the cot, wrapped in a few dozens blankets crouched a figure. Stellan couldn't make out its features so he hesitantly tried a,

"Bradley?"

The figure shuddered. As Stellan took another careful step inside, letting the door swing shut behind him, it shifted and a tired, tear stricken face peered out from underneath the sheets.

Stellan froze and he could feel his heart sink to his stomach.

That wasn’t his Bradley.

[yellowsounds124-blog]

----

I have something I need to share. Not with you, with someone else but that'll never happen, its simply not possible, but I need this off my chest and dont have a safe place for it. With your stance on abortion, I figured you would be a good place, sense you wont see the fetus in this story as a "clump of cells" Growing up, my dad was not okay. He was abusive. It took me years and years to say this because through all the running away and calling the police, not going home- I was told over and over that it was fine because he wasnt raping me or punching me in the face. The pushing, screaming inches from my face, tearing apart my stuff, throwing things at me, making me change in front of him, refusing to be by me in public if I didnt look good enough...didnt matter. I was told I was being ridiculous and should be greatful. My friends.. I would beg them please dont leave me alone with him if he ask you to leave the room. But they always would what were they suppose to do? I wouldnt be allowed to talk to anyone to go out for months at a time. So there was a huge foundation of fear, and protecting myself. At some point, i met this guy (brother of my friend), and I just loved him, and he loved me to. He was a POC, once we started with each other his sister hated me for some reason, which made his mom hate me. And my parents hated him (I later figured this was a race and class thing for my father) so being together involved a lot of sneaking around, a lot of giving up, a lot of trying again, the sneaking around would get me in more trouble, especially if it was known it was with him. At this point, I didnt tell anyone how bad it was, I started self mutation. If I wasnt with him (we will call him Kay for the sake of thevstory) I would do any drug I could get and have sex or mess with whoever showed interest (well almost). It was how I would cope as I didnt think I could tell anyone. How could I say anything about what I was going through when I had a friend being raped by her brother, a friend who's dad just up and left, a friend whos mom called her fat and made her diet? I was literally a wreck and the worst part of the cycle was being this wreck made him more angry, he'd treat me worse, and I'd further wreck myself. So about Kay, we went on and off for years, then he moved in with a friend who was only a street away, I wasnt at a 8-3 school anymore and he graduated do it was really easy to be together. I immediately broke up with this other guy I was seeing (we will call him Colin) that my dad liked so I would use him to be able to leave the house ect so I could be with Kay. It was only a month and a half of perfection before it started falling apart. Kay wanted to talk to my father, he didnt know what things were like except that he didnt like him. He thought he could talk to him about how much he loved me and make things better, and I freaked out. He knew I was hurting myself, a few months before my father** had saw the marks and yelled at me asking if I was crazy, asking what the hell was wrong with me, telling me it was disgusting and I stayed in a padded room for a night before being released sense I wasnt suicidal, and Kay saw on my body that I had found a new more hidden place after that incident. He thought he could save me, and we would get married and be happy, but I knew if he went to talk to my father that my father would send him off and I would pay for trying such a thing. * That's when I made multiple huge mistakes that I havent shared with people, 9 years later. First, i broke up with him and told him i didnt even like him and needed time to discover myself,stuff like that. I never stopped loving him. To this day, I'm sure I'd still fall apart at his touch. *Within that same week, I missed my period, I again wasnt able to leave the house, I bought a tested while at the store with my mom, was caught and ordered to take it as soon as we were back. This was bad because if it was negative, I was going to be in trouble for basically no reason. And again this "trouble" wasnt normal. It meant my things wouldbe torn apart. I would be held down and screamed at, spit on not allowed to talk. But it wasnt negative, it was positive. And my mom was waiting downstairs, and I knew this only had a small handful of outcomes. Either they would send me off and have me give the baby up for adoption while being under close watch the whole time, or they would make me get rid of the baby. Abortion. So I did the first thing that came to mind, I called Colin. I told him I was pregnant and it was his. And that I couldnt talk right now. Then I told my mom, and immediately told her that Colin knew. To me, this was security. If he knew, someone would be checking in on me, he would tell his parents, another adult would he involved, if I disappeared there would be questions. And I knew I was right because I told my mom he knew and immediately she was upset I did that. I went in for an ultrasound, found out how far I was, quickly gave Colin a photo and shut the door on him. And the problems started. The dates dont match up, Colin said. I told him hes wrong. His parents wanted a paternity test, I said that's not possible itll hurt the baby. They claimed it wouldnt. I convinced Colin it was his and I just knew. He knew i had been seeing Kay but took my word.Then i heard from Kay, he heard I was pregnant. If he even thought it was his he would be at my door, trying to figure things out, trying to talk to my parents. But my father would not respect him the way he would Colin, so if anyone knew it was Kay's, I would be hurt, punished, sent away. I was terrified, I cant even explain the level of panic I had for my safety. I told Kay it wasnt his, there was no single way, and to leave me alone forever. It hurt so much to tell him that, it felt so wrong and I hated it and I knew it hurt him and I was so broken over it. After that, i was still stuck. The dates didnt match, Colin's parents wanted a paternity test, *the baby was partly a POC and might not come out white, so I wouldnt be able to pass them off as Colin's. I couldnt sleep. My father wasmt speaking to me and wasnt even around, really. I stayed in my room. My parents were pushing for me to get an abortion. "Were just going to the clinic so you can see what its like" my mom said when she took me to the abortion clinic. It was down a stair case, there were no protesters. They took my blood, they walked me through everything and asked when they could set up an appointment. They asked me one time if I wanted to do this, in front of my mom who stared me down. When she brought me back, she paid extra for them to put me to sleep. While I waited with the IV and the last ultra sound pictures I'd have done, I started crying. My mom wasnt there for this part, a nurse asked me why I was crying, she was so angry about it. I said sorry and tried to stop. She didnt ask if i wanted to do this, no one told me that i was at the point where the baby was like a small miniature looking baby, only slightly misshapen. No one told me it had tiny hands and feet, or what they would do with it afterward. And no one made sure i wanted this. When I went in the room I was alone with a Male doctor, and I remember how unusual that was as I had always been asked if I wanted someone else in the room if left with a Male doctor. And I laid on the doctor bed, and I remember think I should say something, this is my last chance, and then I was asleep. When I woke up I was given pads, they told my mom, not me, even though I was 17, that I would bleed for a few days. I never went to the check up appointment. I stayed in my room, I scanned every blood clot for a piece of the baby. I slept and cried, when I heard from Colin I told him that I lost the baby. That's all. I lost the baby. People spread rumors it wasnt ever real. I didn't care. I didnt leave my room. I didnt shower, I barely ate. I gave up Kay, and all my friends connected to him, Colin started dating my bestfriend and they talked shit about me, I lost everyone connected to them. I was just alone. My father came back and was around more. They never talked to me about it, never asked if I was okay. I was like that for months, before finding friends online, forcing myself to listen to happy music, go out, pretending. Fake it till you make it. I met two people, we will call Slw and Ice- who helped me in that time more than they will ever know because they didnt know about it. Slw once asked why we didnt hang out with my friends and I got really upset with him but they both helped me so much. Ice reminded me it was okay to hurt and not be okay, he just didnt know what about. I made more friends, I am so greatful for every single one because they are the only reason I dudnt take my own life in those following years. Things got bad again. I got bad. I am better now, I have kids. People say I am a good mom. But ever sense "getting better" I think about that baby everyday. I worry life will take one of my babies that are here because I let that one die. How can I be a good mom when I let that happen? And I dont deserve them. And I am so sorry to that child. I could have found another way. I could have spoke more. That childs dad would have loved them and had no choice. I hate myself for this, every day. And again, have no where to go to talk about it. Like I said I just needed to get it off my chest because it eats me alive, everyday. Regardless of if people think abortion is right or wrong. To me, I know I got rid of a baby with a future, and its minimalized.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

What You Deserve

A/N- This is not actually part of the story, its a unused story that I spent a couple weeks writing so I didnt have the heart to delete it although I scrapped it from the original story line. So please know that I did use some of these scenes in my rewrite. 

Summary- 5.7k Curtis Evertt and Y/N. Early Years. You sit with a dying member of the train and listen to her talk about her late husband, and the idea of Soulmates crosses your mind. Do they exist? 

Warnings- Death, Almost a Non Con situation. Curtis having doubts that hes good enough. Boom, got them all I think. 

You sat with the older woman, Sheri for some time that day, perched on the end of her bunk, one leg folded underneath you and one dangling over the edge, her hand interlaced with your own. Sheri was dying your mother informed you that morning, and you simply couldnt let her pass off all alone. Your fingers interlaced with hers in that moment, yours young soft and supple, to her knobby jointed ones, age spots sprinkled across what felt like paper thin softness, like you press to hard it would fall apart. Every now and then a weak wet cough would spring forth, and you would lean forward to pat her mouth softly of any spittle that happened to escape. It was the least you could do for her, try to let her keep her dignity.

“Child, you shouldnt be here watching this.” Sheri would sputter, hazy eyes narrowing at you, knowing you wouldnt leave even if she was to send you away.

You shrugged, and resettled the blankets. “Where else would I go Sheri? Mom and Dad have everything all set in the medic bay, and I got lonely. Who better to keep me company?”

She snorted and coughed once more, raising her hand to wipe at her mouth before you could. “Hmmm, well Curtis comes to mind.”

You blush a bit and look away, which she grinned seeing your lovesick reaction. “Uh huh... Sheri, hes just a friend. And hes got better things to do. Like getting ready with McGregor.” Sheri rolled her eyes at you, and shifted to make herself more comfortable. “Child, ive see the way you two look at one another. I might be old, Im not blind. If you two would just admit your feelings are more then friends, then who knows. Might be the best thing you ever experience. I remember when I told Nathan how I felt. He was all stumbling over his words, spilling it as well.”

You chuckle at her memory, remembering Nathan well when you first came on the train, he was fiercly protective of his wife, and doted on Sheri, loved her with his last breath. You encourage her to speak more of her past, how Nathan and her had a whirlwind romance that ended with the two of them eloping. How when her father found out, he banned her from the house, and the first home she shared with Nathan was nothing more then a room with a bathroom, it was all they needed to start. “It got better, he was accepted to a university, and worked as a janitor at night, I was a waitress in a small off the interstate diner, along with babysitting. It was hard, but we appreciated all that we had.” Sheris eyes slipped closed and she mumbled. “Okay, Im gonna nap now, come back later Y/N, and we will talk some more.” the womans head tipped to the side, and you stayed long enough to be sure she was sleeping.

Drawing your way out, you are sure to slide the curtain closed for her privacy, and start making another round to see to other people, chat with them, just see if they need anything in general. You dont notice the wandering eyes following you, weaving through the people till you got to a quiter part of the tail end. You didnt notice, not until its to late when an arm shoots out in front of you, making you pause momentarily as it blocked you. “What the... Eric, what do you want?” You try to duck under his arm, but the mans grasp on your arm pauses you. A glance his way showed a handsome young man, blond locks curling around green eyes, that glinted coldly at you, and he firmly without any choice of your own backed you against the wall. “See youve been playing little home nurse again Y/N”

“Just helping mom and dad, can you please let go?” You try tugging your arm from his grasp and his other hand came up to your face to trace the curve, obviously not ready to loosen his hold, for whatever reason you would clam up around him, your heart fluttering and your breath quickening. Some would think it was innocent attraction. But it was more fear of what he would eventually do to you if given the chance. 

“When you going to let me kiss you huh? I dont see why you keep fighting me on this.” He hovered closer, his breath washing over your face and you wrinkle your nose at it. It was hot and sour to you, you tried to pull back but there was no where else to go, so the back of your head would thump against the cold metal wall.

“Im not, I dont want to and you cant change my mind.” You wriggle once more trying to get him to stop digging into your arm. “So how about you go find one of the other girls? I know there are plenty who want to be with you.”

“To easy, I rather like the one who denies me” His voice dropped deeper, making you panic sightly. His eyes, you hated the way he would stare at you, following you from wherever he was, like you were a prize to be had. "I figured it's about time I change your mind about it though." You strain out of his touch on your face and go to push against his chest to stumble him back.

"I said no! Fuck no would I ever be with you, let alone kiss you" you snap at him, turning to leave, put distance between you two, back in a crowd. Eric was to coward to try to anything with people around. He snarled though, wrapping an arm around you.

Effectively he pinned your arms helpless and your back against your chest, falling back harder then you expected, making you helpless, his hand clasped over your mouth, effectively muffling any protests you had. "What you think your to good for someone like me sweetheart. If your good enough to get Curtis's dick wet, think you can mine as well without this much of a fight." Your eyes widened at his words. I haven't, were not, stop... Your panic is washing over you, and he manipulated your head to fall back to his shoulder, lemmegolemmegolemmego, you try twisting out. Then he pressed his face in your neck, and bit you, what started as a sloppy kiss turned into a bruising bite, screaming at the shock of pain and you try kicking him hard enough in the leg behind you to drop him. The tread of your boot slid down the inside of his leg, and he pushed you away from him to crash you against the trains wall, hard enough to bounce you off, making you groan from the harsh impact.

Erics hand whipped you around, effectively pinning you with his body. No way to leverage a kick again, and hands pinned your arms down to keep from attacking. "Fucken shit head!" Your voice raised into yelling at him, where was everyone? It was eerily quiet and no one around, he smirked at your struggles, dawning on you when you saw how turned on, felt how turned on. That foreign bulge dug into your belly. "Keep struggling Y/N, just makes me hard for you, so cute thinking you don't want this."

"Your vile Eric, like those front end pigs" nothing but disgust dripping from your tone, trying to hide your fear. But he knows, it just widens his predatory grin knowing your words were masking the fear coursing through your veins. His lips hovered so close, mocking tone as he brushed them barely against yours, as you tried tilting your face away. “Come on Y/N, just one little kiss for me. Do it and I will let you go.”

You glare at him and spit, right in the fuckers face, it runs down his eyes and nose, and you smirk at him as he starts cussing and wiping his face on his sleeve. “You little fucken cunt whore! Nasty pig think you can get away with that shit?!” His hand releases you and goes to hit you when a grasp catches his wrist, wrenching it back. Both yours and Erics eyes go wide in surprise, and you see Curtis glowering behind him, firmly twisting Erics arm hard, then harder again he snarls out. “She sure as fuck is gonna get away with it. I think she told you no”

Curtis jerked Erics arm further and a crack was followed by Eric screaming and letting you go, you slid away from his grasp, Curtis jerking him forward to take where he had you pinned before. They were evenly matched in size, but Curtis had him crushed between his body and metal, his face distorted as you glanced up. It struck you in this moment just how opposite these two men were. Curtis never once raised his voice in the time youve known him,but he had to raise above Erics squealing out in pain and anger. “When a person tells you no, It fucken mean no. You owe Y/N an apology.” He pulled Eric off the wall, and kicked at the back of his knees to drop him in front of you.

Curtis loomed over him, his arm still firmly twisted up between his shoulder blades, and growled in the mans ear. “Say it, or Im going to wrench it right off your body.”

“Im sorry!” you could see the effort it took Eric to say it, but Curtis clearly wasnt satisfied.

“AGAIN!” This time he really roared, Eric cowering a bit, and remorseful, he started again.

“Im sorry Y/N, I promise to never touch you again!” Curtis glances at you and nods that its okay, he had him firmly and you stepped forward, grasping the mans hair, and tipping his head back.

“Touch me ever again, or ANYONE on this train, your dead, do you hear me Eric? I will have no problem watching you die, either by my hand or another. Am. I. Fucking. CLEAR?”

“Yes! god yes, just let me go, it wont happen again.” Eric pleads, and you step away from Eric, and circle around to Curtis’s side. Shoving him harshly away, Eric rolled to a stand and clutched his arm, racing away as fast as he could. The coward, would probably make up some lie to cover face when he made it to your father went to reset the arm. You stood next to Curtis, still fuming. Your fear from earlier forgotten, now you were just enraged watching where the coward disappeared.

“Hey, he aint gonna try messing with you again.” Curtis let his hand rest against your shoulder, looking down at you. He couldnt help but admire you in your rage and fury. Your cheeks were flushed red, and whisps of your hair curled around your face, your eyes bright as you dragged in air sharply to blow it out. Then you turned your gaze, softening just looking at him, and could see you start to loose that edge of your temper. He did that for you.. Curtis gaze softened in return and you turn into him, sliding your arms around his waist and pressing your face in against his chest.

“Thank you for looking out for me Curtis.” his hands braced against your back and seemed to envelope you. If possible he would just hold you like that for alot longer, but you pulled away, keeping it just friends. Maybe you noticed the way his heart jumped, or the way his throat caught in his throat. And it had been that way for monthes now, seeing you in this whole other way. Since that night you fought him, trying to defy that you would ever eat again. Something shifted that day, and yet he held back from telling you, mentioning it. Honestly he didnt deserve someone like you, for all the blackness in his soul. It was better you two just stay this. Stay friends. 

“Your welcome Y/N, I came to let you know Sheri, shes asking for you specifically. Your mom asked me to come get you.” Curtis was about to walk you back, but your eyes widened, and you sprinted up the aisle and out of sight before he could even think to catch up. Unsure of why you were rushing, he followed along behind, and hovered nearby, seeing glimpses of your hair as you were ducked in the bunk, and worried about intruding, he inched forward a bit enough to hear you, make sure it was all okay. Your voice was soft, almost sorrowed as you spoke. 

“Im here Sheri, Im sorry I didnt come sooner...” 

Unintelligible to Curtis at the moment, it only sounded older, raspier and you gave a small chuckle at whatever was said. 

“I already told you, were friends, Curtis and I.” your voice seems to be teasing at this, and guilt at eavesdropping, Curtis turned away from the two of them, those last words echoing in his minds. Friends. Thats all they were, and all they would ever be. He had to accept it. You werent really his, and he needed to stop feeling responsible for you.  The thought alone made him feel slightly depressed and heavy in his chest, hollow. It made him feel hollow, and he fell right in line with the others shuffling to the front to collect there daily rations. 

You curled up near Sheris side, in the time you left her, she just gotten worst, and the both of you knew it really was just a matter of time now. For a while Sheri fell back into stories of the past, mixing You and Nathan up, once in a while she will talk to you like you were her husband. Her soft knobby hands grasping yours, and a smile etching on her tired face. 

“Im so tired Nathan, whats it like?” She would say with her eyes closed, and you with your head slightly bowed, trying not to let your tears fall yet, you put on a smile instead and nod softly. 

“Yea Sheri Dear, its nice. All love and kindness. You never hurt, your always warm and we can be together.” 

“But is there Hershey Bars Nathan? And dont you lie to me, cause I always know.” 

You laugh slightly at it, barely remembering them yourself, but you do your best. “Of course, every day I will get you all the chocolate you want.” 

Sheri hums as if happy, and her eyes open, looking up at you. “Oh child you dont have to stay.” Back to herself again, she folded her hands around yours and patted them softly. “Thank you for sitting with me, Nathan told me hes waiting for me, and Im ready to go... Im ready to see him again, My Nathan.” She slowed her movements and drifted off to sleep. At some point your mother checks in on you. “Want me to sit with her and you go get some sleep?” 

A gentle shake of your head and smile, youve done this before... the silent wait, the death watch. “No, its okay. I will see you in the morning.” Your mother nods with understanding, life on the train, these past 10 years made you grow up faster then you should. It did for all of you. 

You sat there with her, refusing to leave this time, still holding her hand, that was limp and warm in your own, tracing over her knuckles and along the top of her hand, aged, weathered. Nothing really last forever, and in these thoughts Sheri drifted away, in her sleep. Just as she wanted. 

When you felt her just, become a body once more, you let your tears run free now, falling in the womans blankets, while you readjust her to cover her completely, shifting to a stand a bit weak legged from the hours you were there. You went to find your mother, but see shes sleeping, both your parents are. Looking up and down the aisle, you really dont want to be alone, not now. Not after having to say goodbye. It was moments like these you missed your little brother, having someone to hold in your arms and remember all the good memories through your sorrow.

Without even thinking about it, you wander, and soon your standing in front of a bunk youve never been into, but you knew who was there. You could hear him snore softly, and shift in his sleep. A soft rustle of his coat, a shadow in the darkness. Your heart catches, and it aches. It aches for your friend, for how excited she was to see her husband again. How you dont know if she really was though. “Curtis?” Your voice is soft, your not even sure you said it. But within seconds he sleepily stuck his head out, and hand wiping at his eyes and brows coming together in concern. “Y/N? Whats wrong? Are you okay?” 

You nod softly and maybe you shouldnt, it was such an odd request but it bubbles right out of your throat into words. “I dont... I dont want to be alone, please?” Your gaze lifts and it takes him a few seconds to register what your asking for, when it clicks, he doesnt even hesitate, his hand reaching out to grasp yours and help you up. Maybe he should send you home, send you back. But your looking so fragile in the dark, alone. 

When you settled in, Curtis felt the bunk warm up between you two, and you laid curled up near his side, not touching , but nearby. Your breathing was fast paced and uneasy. Nervous... Fuck shes nervous. He turned to his side, and reached out to grasp your chin lightly to look up at him, since you had your face tucked down. “Y/N, want to tell me whats going on?” Curtis figured it was best to get to the bottom of what was bothering you, why you came to seek him like this. 

“Do you believe in soulmates and such Curtis?” You start to loosen up, folding your hands under your head as you roll to your side as well, looking back at him. Curtis brow furrowed a bit at the very odd question from you, and gave a light shrug at it. “Im not entirely sure Y/N, I never thought about it honestly. My folks werent exactly the most loving towards each other, kinda like... “ He tried to think of how to compare them to that you might remember. “Al and Peggy Bundy from that comedy. I dont know if you would even know what Im talking about. But anyways, always kinda mean to one another, but they just stayed together. Soulmates? I dont know if they exist. Why?” 

You vaguely recalled what he was talk about, the theme song playing a bit through your mind, you remembered your dad watching it, but you never paid attention to what he was watching. “Yea I know what your talking about Curtis. I was sitting with Sheri during her last bit, and she thought I was her husband. It just... she talked to him like they hadnt missed a beat, although its been years. I did my best to give her answers for him. I just, think I witnessed what that would be.” Curtis reached out and wrapped you up in his arms, understanding now that you were saying Sheri was gone. Doing that sit was never easy. Clearly this one effected you. But certainly not in the way he fully expected. 

You let him pull you in close, twisting to lean in against his chest while he held you, his hand was rubbing up and down your back in a comforting manner. It lulled you to close your eyes, and after a few moments, you heard him speak. A rumble in his chest making you stir to look up at him. At this angle, you couldnt see his eyes. “Before this, did you believe in that notion? Soul mates, think they could find each other in a life like this?” Curtis question made you pull up to sit next to him, so you could properly see him. See if he was teasing you, although he didnt have that tone he did when he was, or if he was being serious in his question. Crystal blue eyes stared up at you, with nothing but seriousness, and maybe hope? 

You studied Curtis for a few moments, and as sometimes happened to you, your heart seemed to speed just a bit, and you smiled at him softly, nodding. “I do Curtis, call me a hopeless romantic but we have to have hope right? Why not hope that we can find something so complete in even this hell.” You shrug and tip your head against your shoulder in that optimistic way before dropping your shrug. It was then he pushed up to sit as well, and he pulled at his lip with a drag of his teeth, seeming to think. You waited him out, your hands folding in your laps and looking at him wide eyed. 

Why do you look at him like that. His resolve weakening. You were so innocent looking up at him, patient as always for him to find the words, for him to decide, for him to get rid of that guilt that he doesnt deserve you in a way more then this. You were probably the reason he hasnt done anything to reckless and gotten himself killed. Fuck it Curtis... Resolve sliding over his face and his hands cupped the sides of your face, so soft under his touch, just as he knew you would be. Soft for him, he only wanted you to ever be soft for him like this, wanting to feel you press against him, the warmth of your breath whispering into his ear that you needed him. How many times had he thought this, wanted this. And now, you were staring up at him just waiting for him to tell you all this. 

“Can I kiss you Y/N?” He asked, ready to pull back the moment you looked appalled by his request, and you never utter those words, nothing changes but a quickening of your breath, and a nervous lick of your lips. Curtis wonders, have you ever been asked before? He was patient, he could wait, would wait till your ready. Its something you never admitted to yourself, but yes... you really wanted that kiss. A dip of your head and a soft “Yes” was given. 

Thumbs circled over her cheekbones, and you held your breath, waiting with anticipation. His features grew soft looking at you, raking over your face for a moment, searching for a no from you before he lowered his head and pressed his lips to yours, they were softer then you been expecting, and a bit lost in what to do. But Curtis started a light nibble, a press of his tongue made you gasp in surprise. A tentative touch of his tongue against your own, and you finally started to relax into it, exploring in your own way. Although Curtis controlled your first kiss, you felt free, a rush of your senses making you pull in closer, your hands sliding up his chest and around the back of his neck. 

Your fingers buried into the back of his shirt, and his own hands slid off your face, and down to your hips to pull you in closer, flushing you into his chest, and a rumbling moan crept from him. You were everything he knew you would be and more. Already it was rushing to his head, feeding a deep seated hunger he had been ignoring for the past ten years since arriving on the train. If he wasnt careful, he was going to do something he might regret, and pulled away, leaving you stunned, and giving a whimper at the loss of his lips against yours. How flushed you looked, shocked, even dare he say a hint of pleasure dazing your eyes. Your lips were swollen from his kiss, and that made him pleased he could make you look like this, just a simple kiss. 

Staring at one another, it was apparent that there was no going back now, no more just best friends. You were still slightly in a daze and Curtis laid back down, his hand circling your arm to tug you to join him. “We should get some sleep.” in which you stretched out next to him. You wanted to say something, but didnt know what. The kiss, unlike anything youve ever experienced and in the dark, your fingers moved to touch your lips, smiling at the memory of it now. The feelings you had for him, had been there a long time, and until now, you never let yourself believe it was a true possibility. 

Curtis on the other hand, well he was cursing himself out for what he just done. You were far to good for him and he should have known better then that. He didnt deserve you, not your honey sweet kisses he just got lost in, or the way you were so sweetly curled up next to him, trying not to intrude. Oh he was fucked... completely fucked. Why did he have to kiss you? He groaned inwards, waiting, just waiting for you to come to your senses. He was a baby murderer, it would happen soon, he was sure. You would remember what he done, and push him away, shut yourself off from him, and then in that moment, Curtis would be all alone on the train. Long after you fallen asleep, Curtis laid wide awake with his thoughts poisoning his mind. 

That next day he had disappeared before you could talk to him, and kept expecting to see him, but you never did. Which was odd, cause he had a habit of finding you at various points in passing. Only place he could be was Gilliams, and that alone made you worry. Not that Gilliam was necessarily bad, but people plotted with him, talks of trying to escape was always so sush around the man, like a man of many secrets. You scolded yourself at your thoughts, knowing Gilliam was a good man. Hes helped all of you so many times, was the leader of your people. If anyone knew you felt this way, your throat closed at the idea of what could happen to you. 

You were soon distracted by a 5 year old named Joey. “Hey, Its almost time, right Y/N?” he said excitedly as he ducked into the medic bay as if he owned the place, pulling on your coat and looking up with a glimmer of hope passing his face, you wink down at him, and take care of the last of the supplies. Whatever was going on with Curtis was going to have to wait. And you pushed the thoughts from your mind.

“Of course, whenever Minister Mason announces that we are passing over bridge, that means its a whole new year, and every new years what do we get?” tapping your finger on your chin, you pretend to ponder. “Oh what is it. They are white, and inside is all that yummy goodness. Hmmmm.... Frog eggs? No way to slimey! maybe a dog egg? Wait dogs dont lay eggs... Maybe a... “ at this point Joey is just about bouncing excitedly, finally bursting out.

“Chicken? Right Y/N Chicken Eggs?! I think they lay eggs.” a slightly confused look crossed his face. “Im not even sure what a chicken is.”  

“Oooh! Thats what they are. And chickens run around on two legs, flap there wings and are big fluffy butts.” You cross your eyes at Joey and mimic flapping your arms, making him laugh.

“Like Miz Scarlett?” He asks, and he says it so innocently, you have a hard time not laughing, pressing a finger against his lips. “No no, she certainly doesnt look like a chicken.” Although she did that one time her nice feather down coat split down the back and feathers scattered through the tail end. You all still found the occasional feather fluttering through the aisle. Plus the woman had the tendency to be a bit over dramatic, flailing her arms around whenever she had to prove a point. Joey always had been an observant kid.

The two of you chatted about what else New Years brought, while heading out into the aisle to return him back to his mother. “were gonna have a cele-celebratition?” You chuckle and repeat the word properly. “Celebration, and it will be something like that yes.” It wasnt much, usually just a bunch of people sitting around the gate, waiting for there only treat Wilford ever gave them on the train. But it always turned into a good time, people sharing stories, and once in a while a game or two was played. “Gilliam is gonna tell us right?” Joey asks, now looking concerned.

Your brows come together, and nod, giving his little hand a squeeze. “Of course Buddy, were not gonna miss out on the best day ever, right? I will come make sure your there with everyone else.” You smile at him to assure, and he pulls up, leaping into a lower bunk to crawl over to his mom. “Mom! Y/N said its almost new years, and we get chicken eggs and maybe we get to hear stories and... “ he ended up running out of air and took a deep breath. “and Miz Scarlett doesnt look like a chicken.” You end up covering your mouth,while his mom puts him on her lap and shakes her head. 

“Now Joey, you cant be telling anyone they look like chickens! Jeeze child, what am I going to do with you?” She tickled his side and he went sprawling across the bed, and rolled back up, the excitement tinging his face. “I wont, I wont... I promise!” The PA systems crackles, and you put your finger up to your lip to sush Joey, all of you tipping your head to listen. Minister Masons nasal voice crackled and stated. 

“We just passed the bridge, and another year on Wilfords Miracle Train. How lucky we have all been to be here for this miraculous day. Mr.Wilford is providing everyone a treat to celebrate, be sure to come up to the front in a ORDERLY fashion, and be sure to thank him for his bountiful grace hes bestowed upon us.” 

You roll your eyes to yourself for the fucking dramatics, but you tilt your head and sound excited for Joey. “Come on Kiddo! I bet hes got something real good for us.” The child looks to his mother for permission and she nods, sending him flying out of the bunk to grasp your hand and practically tugging you down the aisle, since its quite a walk for his little legs, he wanted to hurry. “Slow down Joey, we will get there” You laugh, and then Curtis sweeps past you and hauls the kid up in his arms, grinning at you as he turned around, and walked backwards, Joey, wrapping his little arm around his neck. “We got places to be, Dont We Joe?” The little boy gave a very serious nod and looked down to Curtis. “Yes sir we do.” 

“Okay, okay... Im coming!” You pull up alongside Curtis with a sigh like they were being ridiculous, and once they were in sight of the front, Joey started wriggling to get down. “Put me down Curits, I want to go get in line!” in which hes swung down and as soon as his feet hit the grate, he bolts away from the two of you. The both of you hang back while others crowd to form a line. You let yourself lean against his shoulder and look up to catch his attention. “Feels like youve been hiding on me Curtis.” 

“No, just been busy.” He glances at you and away, watching to make sure Joey doesnt get lost in the mayhem. Liar, hes always been a bad liar. You see right through it, and you dip around to stand in front of him. “Say that again Curtis, and mean it this time.” Your mouth curls up in a grin, and he growls a bit under his breath that he had been caught. 

“Listen, yesterday...” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down. “I took advantage and I shouldnt have.” 

“Curtis Everett, when have I ever done anything I didnt want to do?” You fold your arms over your chest and shake your head. 

“Well...” 

“That doesnt count and you know it.” Giving him a silent warning and he snapped his jaw shut. You step in closer and take a hold of his jacket, fiddling your fingers in it. “Listen to me closely, You didnt take advantage, okay, and Im not going anywhere. It wasnt bad, right?” 

His eyes widened and a shake of his head to get rid of the notion, he couldnt help but touch you again, his hands moving along your arms, up to cup your face again. “Absolutely not, it was... the best kiss ive ever had.” his face softened when he said it out loud. 

A slight blush crept in your cheeks, but to hear him say that, just made you more bold, knowing you werent wrong. You were ready for this moment, and never thought it was possible. “Then why do you fight it?” You asked as you slid up against him, and move to your toes to reach him, cupping the back of his neck, you bring him down to meet you, and more confident this time, you kissed him slowly. This one was yours, and the people started cheering around them at the announcement of the new year. But for Curtis, his world narrowed to the woman in his arms, nothing else existed or mattered for him. You fit in his hold, like you were meant to be. the soulmates questioned flashed through his mind and then you moaned into his mouth, and all thoughts went away for good. 

He knew in that moment, there wasnt going to ever be anyone else. He might not deserve someone like you, but he wasnt going to let you go. 

[angelaiswriting]

Horns (part 2 of 2) | Roan x Reader

READ PART ONE HERE

✎ Requested by anon: Hey, do you think you could write a Roan x Reader based on Bryce Fox’s song Horns please ? That’d be amazing ! :)

✎ A/N: here you go with part two! Hope you enjoy since it got weirder. (I must be crazy ‘cause I loooooved writing this) I considered retitling this into ‘Horny’, but then changed my mind haha Also this is the dirtiest thing I’ve ever written, but I enjoyed it so fucking much! Hope you like

✎ Fandom: The 1OO. Pairing: Roan x Reader

✎ Warnings: weird shit. Blood. Cutting. SMUT.��Weird reader (ad weirder writer). Set in the period in which Roan is still prince but banned.

✎ Listen to ‘Horns’ here (x)

Word-count:  2390

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You have one cut – make it your best one, he had said.

Y/N smiled: she knew he’d surrender. He always did, and that night was no exception. Because that’s how they were: she ordered and he obeyed, she asked and he gave, she took and he let her take. She was poison and he was her favorite wine. She was evil and he was good and together they were something new.

Roan stared at her while she dragged her tongue along the blade of his dagger, his mind blank and his heart racing, his erection hurting, his skin tingling. She was something else, he thought. Something not human. Something that came out of the black depths of Earth. And he was not the hunter anymore when he was with her. He was his prey and he kept falling into her traps.

The light of the moon threw dangerous shadows on her face. Her skin looked paler than ever, her eyes darker, her core hotter.

She let the blade dance in the air, staring at it mesmerized. Then, suddenly, it flew down towards his chest: in a matter of second a long cut started just inches above his right nipple and crossed his chest to kiss his last rib on his left side.

They both stared, almost in awe, at the blood trickling out the wound. Roan could hardly feel the stinging pain coming from it.

“There,” Y/N smiled, satisfied. “Was it that bad, now?” she asked, a smirk deforming her lips.

She didn’t give him time to think: before he knew it her lips were on the cut she had created and were sucking. His breath choked in his throat, his eyes opened wide, his back involuntarily arched.

He grabbed at her hair and pulled, but she didn’t look fazed: she went on licking his cut, smearing his blood on his chest.

When she got up, her lips and chin were covered in red, drops trickled down her neck onto his abs. She looked like a demon, but Roan didn’t care: he pushed himself into a sitting position, groaning in the pain of the cut, and grabbed her face.

“You’re a monster,” he growled before he crashed their lips together.

She tasted like blood, she smelled like blood. It made his head feel dizzy, his core longing for more.

When she opened her mouth to kiss him back, her tongue was slicker than usual. It was a sticky, angry kiss, but none of them cared. They were each other’s poison and that was their way.

She rocked her hips against him and he moaned, breaking the kiss to catch his breath.

“I might be a monster,” she whispered in his ear, making goosebumps rise on his skin, “but you like it. You can’t deny it, Roan,” and she giggled, the cold skin of her breasts providing some relief to the cut he had on his chest.

He pulled her hair, arching her neck backward. He took his dagger from her hands and held it tight. But when he put it on her skin, he couldn’t get himself to do it, to cut her, to drink her blood like one of those monsters that haunted his childhood.

Y/N took advantage of his distraction and freed herself from her grip. Her hands trailed down his sides to join each other on his abdomen. She went further down but stopped just before touching him.

His eyes flickered in her direction.

“Are you scared?” she asked, nearing her face to his, kissing the corner of his mouth.

He tried to push her away, but he couldn’t get his hands to do it. He was paralyzed and there was nothing his brain could do to free him from the spell she must have cast upon him. “Is this what you let all your lovers do to you?” he wondered, brushing one of her scars with his nails.

“Are you talking about my scars?” she asked, backing a little to watch him in the eyes.

Roan tilted his head to the side, waiting for her answer.

“Punishment from home,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “A little present from you men.”

“No lover?” Roan insisted.

Y/N laughed. “Are we a little jealous?” She shook her head. “No lover,” she confirmed.

He would never admit it out loud, but the idea of another man’s hands on her skin angered him. “Good,” he said, circled her shoulders with his arm and in a swift movement she was laying on the furs and he was hovering over her. Before she knew it, he had repaid her by opening a cut on her chest: starting from her shoulder it ended on her sternum.

She laughed and reached her hands up to touch his face. She caressed his cheek, brushed the short beard darkening his skin and then traced his lips with her fingers.

Since he didn’t seem like he wanted to start anything, she moved her hand to the back of his head and pushed him towards her. She briefly kissed him. “You can taste it if you want,” she whispered. “And I know you want, Prince.”

Of course, he wanted it. Her body, her skin, her blood, the sex they had together… he wanted anything she had to offer and he’d always want it, crave for it, even.

It was his doom: to want something he could never have, to picture his future with someone who’d never want him back the way he wanted her.

He leaned down, licked her nipple until she couldn’t stand it anymore. He knew she hated it when he did it his way, but there were times when he couldn’t help it when all he could do was follow his instincts. Then, slowly, his tongue licked further up until he got to the cut, to the blood. She tasted bitter in his mouth, her blood prickled his tongue, but he licked her anyway.

Y/N wiggled weakly under him. She loved what she had turned him into, but part of her wasn’t, part of her only wanted to set him free. His heart was in her hands and she wasn’t sure she could hold it without killing it.

Suddenly, almost forcing herself, she stopped him and immediately missed his tongue licking her wound clean.

“Lay down,” she ordered.

And, as always, all Roan could do was obey. What would his Mother say if she saw him like that? Obey to someone like Y/N? To a cast out? But that’s what his heart was waiting for: to be hurt by that girl and to be healed by the same woman. Whatever she was, he was hers and nothing could ever change that – he was sure of this.

She straddled him, locked his hands above his head and smiled evilly. ‘Oh, the things I’m gonna do to you,’ her eyes said. And he was ready to let her do anything she wanted because that was the untold deal and truth between them: the Prince bowed and the subject girl rose upon him.

Her chest was smeared with blood, and his blood was there too, mixed with her own, confusing its edges into hers, marking her pale, frozen skin like fire.

She lowered towards him, licked the lobe of his right ear, biting it a little, before licking down towards his jaw. Her hands left his wrists to caress his still bleeding wound. Roan hissed in pain, but let her do for he couldn’t bring himself to stop her. He was at her mercy, whether he liked it or not, and denying it wouldn’t do any good.

Pulling back, she outlined her lips with the blood she had on her fingers.

“Take my blood,” she whispered, lowering her hips even more until their cores touched.

His fingers reached the wound he had opened on her body, they dipped in her blood, they smeared it on her breasts before they reached his own lips. Her blood was cold, a blessing as he felt like he was boiling.

Y/N smiled, staring down at him. She licked his lips with her tongue before kissing him, tasting both of them, pressing down onto his chest.

Roan grazed her back with his bloodied hands, leaving marks with his nails, cupping her butt and squeezing.

Then, almost suddenly, her lips slipped from his, her mouth sucked at his Adam’s apple, her teeth grazed his skin. She then proceeded with the licking, quickly reaching his cut and licking it again and again, driving him crazy, his eyes rolled back in his skull, his lips parted and his breathing ragged.

Y/N smiled against his skin, biting his abdomen.

When she took his erection in her mouth, Roan’s hips involuntarily snapped upwards. Y/N’s hands were quick to stop his movements, pushing down on his hip bones almost as if she had expected him to react that way. She pulled back and licked his cock to the base and then back up. It was a matter of seconds before it was smeared with blood, and Y/N couldn’t say that the view didn’t turn her on.

Roan was staring at her, urging her with his eyes to continue. His breathing was ragged with anticipation and he could feel his cock throb in her hand.

She smiled, looking up at him, and one of her hands reached down between her legs. She moaned when she touched her clit, rubbing circles around it, throwing her head back. With the corner of her eye, she could still see Roan, his frown for her not paying attention to his erection, and she smirked.

She penetrated herself with a finger, bluntly staring at him, her other hand gently stroking his cock. When she started to move her finger, adding a second one, Roan tried to get up, but she stopped him, squeezing his cock a little too hard.

“I didn’t say you could move,” she smiled, retrieved her fingers and licked them.

She then proceeded to please him some more, sucking a little the head of his penis. Roan’s moans filled her ears and made her smile: she liked the way she made him feel, the way she had him at her feet. She would get away with anything with him and he wouldn’t punish her – she didn’t know why, but at the moment it looked like it didn’t matter.

She took him in her mouth, and slowly pushed down and then back up again. Her eyes never left his face, the way his chest heaved with each breath.

He tried to plea, but couldn’t, because when it came to her he was always paralyzed. He could almost feel her presence in his head, numbing his senses.

When she dropped down on him and he filled her, she took him by surprise. His eyes were still closed, his mind focused on keeping breathing while she worked his erection. Then, all of a sudden, she was on top of him, grinning, body covered in blood.

Roan sighed, grazing her thighs and resting his hands on her hips.

“Oh, the things you do to me, Y/N,” he muttered and pushed her hips against hers. His head rolled back on the furs, his eyes closed.

She giggled, caressing his chest, avoiding the cut to not cause him pain. When she started moving and her breath got caught in her throat, she thought she saw Roan smiling while his hands grabbed her hips tighter.

Her moans were music to Roan’s ears because she was so cold that it almost looked impossible for her to feel anything at all. When she moved her hands from his chest to her breasts, squeezing them almost painfully, her head thrown back and her eyes rolled back, Roan took the freedom to invert their positions, laying her flat on her stomach on the furs and penetrating her from behind her, and to speed up the pace.

His chest grazed her back with every movement. When he angled her right leg so that it was forming a right angle, he pushed in deeper and for a moment he feared that Y/N had stopped breathing. But then her hand reached the hand holding her leg still and it grasped it, nails penetrating his skin while she couldn’t even moan his name anymore.

Roan’s breath got shorter rapidly, her walls clenched around him more and more, while his free hand pushed on her back to steady himself.

“Roan,” she whispered desperately, trying to push herself up to rest on her elbows, but the man stopped her.

He slowed down his pace, torturing her, pushing in and deep, almost making her scream in frustration. He leaned over to kiss her shoulder, skins grazing with each thrust. He bit her again, right in the crook of her neck this time and she moaned loudly. A few thrusts later he felt her clenching around his cock. He saw her closing her eyes tightly, clenching her jaw almost as if she didn’t want to scream his name, but he knew how to make her and that time was no exception.

When she came, he pulled out and she rolled on her back to welcome him again. He pushed in at the same time as his lips made contact with her skin covered in blood. Y/N was still moaning and sighing when he came with a loud grunt, biting down on her shoulder.

He kept still in that position for a while, his hips still thrusting into her sloppily for a while before he pulled out.

Roan stared down at her, hovering over her, and pulled strands of her hair away from her face.

“You were going to end this tonight, weren’t you?” he asked, fear, disappointment, pain clear in his sore voice.

She nodded. “This isn’t good for you.”

“But you’re not the one who decides what’s good for me or not.”

A giggle. “You’re right.”

“I don’t want this to end.”

“Then don’t.”

They stared at each other for what felt like ages before she kissed him, a chaste kiss compared to the ones she always gave him.

And he knew, in that moment, that his heart was not safe in her hands, but there was no other place where he’d rather have it.

TAG: @thesavagesones @selldraug @saibh29 (just in case)

[writingsonhellswalls]

winter whispers.

This is a angsty mini-fic about my character Sarafina and @ladykakata​ ‘s character Joa! This is set some time in the future of the story we are writing. Joa is off fighting a war, Sarafina is at their home. Enjoy! Tell me what you think! This was written in a little over an hour on a school night because I was grumpy about homework. Fic below the cut! 

I did not edit this beyond a brief run through with spell check. Its 11:30 and I need the sleep. 

OH! Question for Lady Kakata: Can you guess which other character I mentioned? ^-^ 

Nestled in her bed of warm furs and blankets, was the red haired beauty and lady of the castle.  It was to be expected the woman was sleeping, but in fact she was wide awake. A winter storm had  raged against the stone building and kept her awake most of the night. It didn't help her situation that she was alone after having just recently gotten used to sleeping beside someone. Sarafina wanted to nothing more then to roll onto her side and place her cheek to her husband's chest but it was impossible. Instead of warming her bed and perhaps the rest of her, he was off fighting in a war. It almost caused her physically ache for him, but those were sad thoughts she did her best to keep away.

A sound of annoyance escaped her as she rose form her bed, tossing the covers off only to regret her choice instantly. She hadn't yet full accepted that despite her room being the best in the castle, it wasn't always as warm as her bed. Her annoyance grew further as she attempted to pull on every layer of clothing she had. Heavy furred boots were the last addition to her outfit. She wore a simple dress, a bodice made loose simply because she put it on herself. The dress itself was made in the fancy of most northern clothing, heavy and warm. Lastly a pretty emerald colored cloak, lined with soft brown fur from summer rabbits, the only gift she didn't complain about, it was both pretty and functional.

She paused only for a moment to fix the braid she slept in, tucking away all stray hairs before departing. Hykross castle was alive with the bustle of life. Servants and guards travelled  about, tending to the castle after the storm. She hoped no one would notice her presence and she could slip by unnoticed, but being the Lady of the Castle prevented that.

"Your grace," A young woman said in passing, curtsying slightly. Sarafina offered her a small smile and bow of her head. She had come along ways since meeting and falling in love with her husband, the fact she was called 'your grace' was still new to her. Part of her wanted to ask them not to bother with it, but it was an old tradition that would take far longer to break then she'd be alive. Having exchanged formalities, Sarafina found her way down from her room and outside without too much trouble. She had stopped to ask the head servant about their stores, if the storm got worse. They exchanged brief words about what to be expected, Sarafina asked him to send out a few guards to check on the village just a short ten-minute ride from the castle. Despite having never governed over anything beyond her sheep, Sarafina had taken to the task of helping the villagers with great care.

Upon leaving the castle doors she quickly made her way to the stables. The apprentice stable hand greeted her with a small smile, she asked him to saddle up her mare so she could go for a short ride. The man showed some concern but had grown used to her request. It was almost twice daily that Sarafina took her ride and he learned long ago not to bother asking where she went. The young woman always said she went to the ridge, knowing full well that the castle was hidden within a mountain range. There were a variety of ridges that could be ridden to in less than an hour.

It took him only half of an hour to saddle her large, mountain bred mare. Sarafina didn't bother to wait inside the castle, but stayed near the stables until she brought out. Sarafina didn't bother to wait for help on climbing onto her horse, instead she pulled herself up and set off. A single guard followed right after her for her protection and not because she wanted him to.

Pulling the hood of her cloak up, Sarafina attempted to shield her face from the bite of the cold air, but little could be done. The wind was unforgiving, turning her cheeks red and biting harshly. She didn't seem to mind.

The path to the 'her ridge' was well mapped out in her head and the ground itself. No amount of snow could fully hide the beaten path, her mare even seemed to know the way well. The guard behind her kept a safe distance, preferring not to upset Sarafina if he rode too close. It wasn't that she disliked his company, it was that the ridge had become her place. A spot within her husband's land that she claimed for herself. Somewhere she could go when she wanted to get away for a little while.

Arrival at the ridge had her dismounting quickly. There was a lone tree that grew without any help beyond it's own roots. Symbolic in a way, Sarafina had found the tree suitable to climb and so she did. Hand over hand and slowly at first, Sarafina climbed up just until she was able to nestle herself and have a vintage point to the valley below. Her cloak remained some shelter from the wind, the tree providing the rest. It was purely for her own selfish reasons why she wanted visited the ridge everyday. She wanted nothing more than to be the first person to see her husband return home, this ridge provided that view.

Having grown used to the way the mountains seemed to carry their own time, Sarafina knew she could stay in her spot until the eastern light touched a particular set of trees. Her eyes went back and forth from those trees to the valley out in front of her as her mind wandered.

It normally went first to the war itself. Why it was being fought and how her husband had decided to risk his life and take what was rightfully the North's. Usually at first thought of her husband, Sarafina's senses would feel with the memory of him. His fierce icy gaze, sent those faint of heart running away. His eyes however, often warmed her, she assumed it was because he loved her. Continuing to picture his image in her head, next were his lips.  Her own lips ached with the loss of his, she wondered how much longer she would have to go without the taste of him. Even her ears seemed to miss the sound of his voice, the way he whispered her name when it was just the two of them. A jolt of something undefinable ran through her at the mere  thought of his whispers. Clearing her head of such thoughts, she felt the slightest fading blush fall away from her cheeks. The cold air helped with it.

Content with watching the valley below, Sarafina did her best to push away all the sad thoughts, but a few crept their dark claws into mind. Fear prickled against her skin as she feared that her loving husband would never return. She didn't consider herself a religious woman, but having found love in a man who didn't want to break her spirit had given her some faith. With that new faith she prayed to who ever listened of his safe return. She wouldn't fall to her knees in prayer, but did so in the safety of her tree. The first weeks away from him she prayed of his quick return. As the weeks turned into months, her prayers also changed. Instead of being quick returned, she prayed for him to be safe and unharmed. When news travelled back, it spread like wildfire of the harshness of the war. Men dying in the fields, some suffering in medical tents. Her prayers changed for him to come home alive. She knew in her heart that it didn't matter if he came home scarred or beaten, she simply wanted him alive. Her love for him would overcome anything physical.

The dark thoughts continued to grow until felt the first of many tears begin to fall. Sarafina had learned to cry silently as to not alert the guard that often followed her out to the ridge. Instead she let them slip down her cheeks and fall from her chin. While she wanted to maintain the image of being a strong woman, it was almost impossible to hold back the tears. Her beloved husband could be dead and half buried in some forsaken field and she wouldnt know for weeks, she hated how slow news travelled. Everyday she fought the urge to take off and go find him. At least if she was near the battles she'd be able to go to him, see that he was okay. However, deep down she knew if she has somehow found her way to him she'd likely protest and try to hold him back from joining the fight. Adding to that would be the fear of watching him die. Sarafina knew she'd just get in the way of the healers who would do their best to save him. Despite how much she missed him, Sarafina knew her place was in Hykross.

When she married him she knew that it wasn't just to him, but to his title as well. She was now the Duchess of Hykross, a woman who would need to lead in her husband's absence. At first she was terrified of such a task, turning to the few advisors that stayed behind for all the guidance they could provided. There were plenty of times in the early weeks of him being gone that she felt unsuitable for the job. While she never questioned their relationship or the love between them, she did question why he would let her lead. His advisors were far better suited for the job, however like before they were old traditions not easily broken.

With time the tears dried enough for her to wipe them away. The ache in her chest had lessened only a little but it was still a relief. Carefully finding her way down the tree, she adjusted her cloak before remounting her mare. The horse had dozed off but quickly woke at the sound of her rider.

Turning her mare with the reins, Sarafina rode past the guard who bowed slightly as she rode past him.

"I think I'll go to the village later today, I want to check on the food stores there, make sure they have a enough in case we have a bigger storm," Sarafina told him.

"That sounds like a good idea, your grace, I'll ask a few more guards to join us. We can set out after breakfast," The man spoke as Sarafina nodded in approval to suggestion before urging her mare into a light trot. She gave one parting glance to the tree as the wind seemed to pick up again. Taking this as a sign, Sarafina whispered a soft prayer asking the wind to send a message to whatever gods listened to bring her husband home alive. She would be okay with a little more waiting.