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nmakii · 2 days ago

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must be love

— you find sae’s phone opened, and you decide to snoop.

or; sae gets exposed for being a fake idgafer. this is too sappy. 2.7k words, this is my longest fic in my whole life… what life feels like as a girl who loves too much core

tags: @narcjsistx

— for rhi. love ya, partner.

‘she seems really eager to please,

but she has quite the backbone.’

you huff out in frustration. “ah!! ugh…” you scowl. sae raises his eyebrow. “my groupmate never started on her share of the work… ugh, now i have to cram it..!” you explain your sudden outburst. sae scoffs. “then tell your teacher or something. it’s not like i can do anything about it, im not your teacher.” he, quite obviously, points out. “wh… ugh, i’m gonna… i just— needed to let out my anger.” you groan, face planting and screaming into your textbook. and he hums in response. although he didn’t show it on his face, your outburst was quite out of character for the person he had grown to know. it was… weird, to say the least. and it had caused him to make a mental note not to anger you.

‘her generosity knows no bounds.’

“sae, this is for you. merry christmas!” you hand him a wrapped box. “hm..? i don’t take christmas gifts.” he bluntly states. “i haven’t gotten any gifts since i was 10 years old.” you scoff to yourself. “maybe that’s why you’ve always got that stick in your ass.” you tease. “excuse me?” he glares daggers at you. “aaaanyway! open it!” you shove the box into his hands. he looks at the box, and then at you, and he decides to open it. “new cleats.” he acknowledges. yes, mhm. these were indeed cleats..! “i didn’t need these, i was going to buy them myself.” he states.

“i know, you could probably buy them yourself. but, i thought i’d save you the hassle, y’know?” how thoughtful of you. he eyes the cleats up and down; it’s an expensive brand, but it’s worth the price for the quality. “…thanks.” he says, at last. he didn’t expect a gift from you, he doesn’t have one prepared for you. he’ll make sure to buy you something you’ll love later. “oh! hold on, i wanted to give you some other things ♪~” you fish a keychain and envelope out of your bag and hand it to him.

“…cinnamoroll..?” he questions. “it’s cute right? i thought you’d like it.” what an odd way of thinking… never once has he mentioned anything about cinnamoroll. but then again, it is pretty cute. “…well, i won’t say i hate it. thank you.” he thanks you as he eyes the envelope. “ah, don’t read it in front of me..! i got a bit sappy, it’s pretty. embarrassing…” you awkwardly laugh. “ah, got it.”

later that day, he opened the envelope. there was a letter; it had cute doodles all over. and, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel your affection radiating off the letter. it was… really sweet.

‘what a beautiful human being she is.’

itoshi sae is what you like to call a shy lover, if you were to put it kindly.

you know for a fact that he loves you, he just isn’t good at verbally expressing it. words of affection are too sappy for him. he prefers to show it through the thoughtfulness of his gifts, and the longing touches of his hands, which seem to never leave your’s.

you know he loves you. but, you can’t help but wish for him to say it more often.

it wasn’t many nights lately that the two of you would have a date night. with sae’s rigorous training schedule and endless interviews, the only thing he wants to do at night is to fall asleep beside you.

however, today was the end of the season. meaning, sae would have much more free-time for you.

with sae’s last game for the year completed in 0-4, the first thing he had to do was call you. even though you weren’t far away at all, sitting in the VIP lounge with the relatives and girlfriends of sae’s teammates.

“s/o?” he calls your attention. “mhm? congratulations on your win, babe! i knew you’d win.” you congratulate him. “they could barely keep the ball when they had it. is it really an achievement for me to have won this match?” he says, almost sassily. “pssh— alright. i get it, mr. ‘tepid.’.” you tease.

“don’t call me that.” he huffs. “stay where you are. i’ll go to you.” he commands. you hum in acknowledgment, and he hangs up.

he doesn’t keep you waiting too long before showing up. “there you are…” he sighs in relief, kissing you as his hands automatically find themselves on your body— one tangled in your hair, and the other resting on the curve of your spine.

once he finds the will in himself to finally pull away, he’s breathless.

he looks like he wants to say something, but he holds himself back, his fingers flowing through your hair. “…get ready for our date later tonight, yeah? formal wear.”

you nod, and his lips curl upward. “i’ll see you later.”

you decided to go all out, pull all the brakes. and when sae picks you up in his car, he can’t help thinking that you look like a dream. ‘are you sure you aren’t a model?’ he muses to himself. his heart twists, and the fat of his cheeks redden with affection. your hair flows like silk, and that glimmer in your eyes was once a star, handpicked from the skies, he’s sure of it.

everything about you encourages him to keep staring, but he manages to get ahold of himself. “…you…look beautiful.” is the only thing he can get himself to say. but, beautiful doesn’t seem to encapsulate it, not at all. it’s not even close. beautiful is only a fraction of what he thinks. “heh, you think so?” you ask. “yeah; beautiful.” he assures. “let’s go.” he says, barely turning his attention away from you as he turns to the road.

the drive to the restaurant is quiet, but sae’s mind is screaming at him. his eyes can’t stop moving back to take sneaky glances of you. he drinks up your beauty like a serpent, and he still hasn’t had his fill.

“…we’re here.” he pulls the shift into its’ brake. he gets out, and hands his keys to the valet boy— his words are inaudible through the car door, but he quickly finishes his conversation and moves to open your car door.

you take your first step out, and his hand immediately moves to help you out. god, you might be even prettier under the gleam of moonlight, shining like the pearl of the planet.

his arm moves and snakes around your waist, guiding you into the restaurant under the flash of paparazzi cameras. he grimaces at the loud, pitchy voices of news interviewers, begging for a comment; anything for a headline quote.

the gentle touch of his fingers tighten, as he silently encourages you to walk faster, and lose the crowd. the two of you hurry up, and dash into the restaurant, where you’re greeted with a dim candlelight, mahogany walls, and the rhythmic trumpet of jazz.

“welcome, mr. itoshi.” the receptionist greets. “your table for two is right this way.” she quickly guides the two of you into a secluded part of the restaurant, just like he’s always done as to make sure neither of you are spotted and harassed in public.

lamps hang on the walls, creating a romantic atmosphere. and the curved dark-brown leather booth couch perfectly complements the dark oak roundtable.

the date isn’t too different from the others. the two of you chat about anything that comes to mind. but, it’s actually more like it’s just you chattering on, and sae listening as he admires that excited grin on your face.

on the outside looking in, it’s obvious how he has heart eyes when he stares at you. he’s in a trance as he listens to the rich honeying sweetness of your voice; his finger traces the lines on the roundtable, wishing that it’d be the crinkles of your smile he’s tracing when he blinks and opens his eyes again.

his trance is broken though, when his phone rings. damn it, he forgot to put his phone on do not disturb… “something wrong?” you ask sae, and he takes his phone out of his pocket. “not sure. there shouldn’t be a problem, i cancelled everything for tonight. ugh… just a second, amor…” he remorsefully takes your hand in his as a silent gesture of apology. he took too long to pick up the phone, it already went out…

he opened his call app, and saw that it was from his publicist, dabadie. he groaned before picking up.

“sae! you didn’t mention that you’d be going out on a date today, your paparazzi shot is already all over social medias..!” he worriedly stammers. “i didn’t? well, whatever… it’s just a date photo anyway.” sae shrugs, speaking quietly to ensure that you don’t hear. “right— but… you know the internet… they might criticize you, and say that she’s distracting you from soccer…”

sae is about to correct him— he’s about to say that you aren’t distracting him from his career, but he holds back once he remembers that you’re right beside him, eagerly waiting for his attention to be back on you.

“i… have to speak to you for a second, im already outside the restaurant… the paparazzi didn’t censor out the location well enough either… so, the agency’s security car will follow you two home…” he adds on. sae sighs. “i have to speak to you too. i’ll meet you outside.” he hangs up. he huffs in exasperation and shallowly drops his phone, making it clatter on the table; the screen is left open on his call record. “im sorry, amor… i have to quickly take care of something, i’ll be back soon, i promise.” he kisses your hand.

“hmph, don’t worry. it’s dabadie, right? he’s always worried about something…” you laugh. of course you’d be understanding about it. you always understood. “heh, that he is.” he sasses before leaving the table.

…and you can’t help but notice that his phone is still open.

his phone is practically yelling at you, “check out what’s on me, s/o! check it out right now!”, and you simply can’t resist the temptation to!

first, you simply scroll around at his call record; nothing too interesting, it’s filled with calls from dabadie, and you. as well as occasional calls from his mom. how tepid, as sae would put it. you exit the app, and find his home screen wallpaper to be a picture he took of you; you’re looking out into the distance, the large castle of sleeping beauty in the background.

you smile to yourself at that cute photo, and move to his photos; it’s filled with photos of you, and almost none of him— not unless you were beside him. you scroll down to check out his older photos; they’re childhood pictures, only a few of them are with rin included.

…

…anyways, ‘what is in sae itoshi’s notes app?’, you ponder. you open his notes app.

‘things i want to eat: 1. omelette, 2. paella, 3. pesto pasta’

‘onitsuka tiger mexico - kill bill/grey, new balance 2002r - grey, asics gel NYC - oyster grey’

‘laundry’

‘i love you’

you laugh at the randomness of his notes, quickly scrolling through them. it’s true when they say that a boy’s notes is truly random.

but that last note catches your eye. it’s a pretty odd note that just says ‘i love you’ with no additional text. and, it makes you wonder.

sae’s an organized person, more or less. so, his notes must be filed too. and, you’re correct. there are three files; ‘lists’, ‘important documents’, and a file with your initial as its’ name.

the other two don’t seem as interesting, nor seem as mysterious. so, you click on the mysterious file.

and, the file is filled with everything about you; he’s written down your birthday (including the time…), your family members’ names, foods you like to eat when you aren’t feeling well, shows that you like to watch… everything.

and, there’s a note that catches your eye. it’s a cut-off sentence, since it was too long. you decide to feed your curiosity and click on the note.

‘she talks to everyone, even the people she doesn’t like.

it takes a lot to piss her off.

she’s always kind to me, after all.

she seems really eager to please, but she has quite the backbone.

she works really hard, but i don’t think many see it.

her generosity knows no bounds, and she always knows what kind of joke to make.

i didn’t think it was possible for a soul to be so beautiful.

nor, that someone like i would meet a soul like her’s.

but, im grateful to the stars above that i met her.

someone as kind as her deserves to receive all the love she gives.

i don’t think she knows how loved she really is though.

what a beautiful human being she is.

there simply isn’t enough words to describe the way her dimples crinkle when she’s happy.

the day she was conceived, the gods must’ve tenderly sculpted her heart out of ivory and gold.

the way she enamors everyone in the room simply by walking inside, and the way her personality shines in her rushed, yet sweet handwriting.

one day, i hope she’ll finally be perpetually happy.

so, that she can always shine that enchanting smile of her’s.

she deserves all of it.’

was this a poem..? it didn’t seem like it, it didn’t rhyme, and the stanzas didn’t have equal amounts of lines… but, the way he worded it out almost made it seem like he was a poet.

you don’t… even know what to think at such a romantic confession. it’s certainly much more than sae has ever verbally said to you. but, the fact that he had written this with you in mind makes your heart pound like crazy.

you’ve always known that sae loves you, but seeing his private thoughts all written out for you to read was… overwhelming.

“going through my texts, amor? i’m not texting any other woman besides you.” sae nonchalantly jokes. shit— time went quicker than you’d thought. “ah, nn… just got a bit curious, babe…” you hum. “what were you looking at..?” he asks, and his eyes widen the moment he sees what you were reading. out of all the things on his phone, that was the last thing he wanted you reading.

he embarrassedly closes his phone. “so… what was all that writing about..? were you trying to be a poet?” you jokingly ask; you knew that sae wasn’t mad, per say… he was probably just embarrassed. “n..no… it was, ah…” he clears his throat. “it was just… something i typed out when i realized i had many observations about you that i needed to write down. i just got sidetracked while i was typing.” he explains.

you smile, your entire body feeling like you’re on fire. the love you feel for sae itoshi feels like too much to contain in your heart. “it was really sweet, sae…” you assure him. for some reason, you have the odd incentive to just… cry right now. you love him so much.

“i know. but, it’s also too sappy.” he huffs. “aw, don’t be so shy… i know you’re just a huge softie under that tough surface…” you tease, moving closer to cuddle up to his side. “im not soft. i just love you, okay?” he groans. “don’t make me say embarrassing things.”

your smile widens, making him look at you with that lovesick look in his eyes. “aww… well, i guess i know how much you love me now anyway, so that’s good enough..!” you mentally fist pump at this small victory.

the atmosphere suddenly feels light again as you start to chatter again, teasing him slightly before going back to what you were speaking about before he had left. and still, sae’s looking at you like you’re the world cup trophy, like you’re all he’s dreamed of.

and sae thinks…

‘…you’ll know how sappy i can get when it’s our wedding day.’

but he should save that for another 5 years, or so.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk fluff #blue lock sae #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk sae #sae itoshi x y/n #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae #blue lock sae itoshi #sae itoshi imagines #itoshi sae imagines

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alexthetrashyracoon · 20 hours ago

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Fantasy au nobody asked for but I give you anyway.

Tags: Flowerfairy Reader, traveling mercenary Ghost, a bit of cursing, momentarily character death but we stay above the ground don't worry, a bit angsty but it gets a happy ending, I promise <3 (if that flops I'll cry)

Word count: 1350

"We shouldn't go this way." They flatly said and fluttered next to Ghost's face, brows in a pinch with their hands pressed against their rips. "It's dangerous."

Ghost grunted and swatted at them, not hard enough to hurt them or cause them to crash to the ground, but to get them out of his face. "You've been traveling with me long enough. You should know by now I don't care how dangerous it is as long as it gets me to the place I need to get." He says and leaves the cobbled path to take the short cut through the woods.

They huff and flutter after him. "I warned you."

It's been three months since Ghost met the little flower fairy, caught in some bandits' bottle. Ghost was hunting the group of bandits down, a big fat reward waiting for him when he brought back the leader, dead or alive it didn't matter.

So when he cleaned the camp, he found the bottle that had rolled under a sack and at first, Ghost had discarded it as trash, not looking twice at it but then he heard the little banging sound on glass and checked the bottle again, finding the little thing inside.

At first Ghost wasn't sure if he could believe his eyes. It wasn't everyday after all that someone came across a fairy, tiny human with wings on their back, but they pinched Ghost hard enough for him to believe it.

Ever since then Ghost allowed the fairy to graciously follow him, if they promised to keep their mouth shut, which they never truly did. They were talking all the time, chatting about whatever was on their mind. And Ghost, he would never admit that out loud, actually enjoyed the company for once. He was used to traveling alone, never bonding with others or keeping friendships alive for long. But something about the fairy was different.

At the end of the shortcut, Ghost finds himself standing in an opening that looks quite peaceful, not enough for him to drop his guard but the scenery is nice for a change.

He turns around to face the fairy who sits on his shoulder like usually when their wings get tired. They barely weigh anything more than a feather, even if he teases them all the time that if they keep eating so many cookies that he won't be able to keep walking with them on his shoulder. They always pout in return and don't talk to him for exactly ten minutes before chatting about some flower they have passed on their way.

"See. No danger around." Ghost grunts and decides it's time for a break, to replenish his strength and energy while enjoying a bit of nature's beauty. He puts down his backpack and sits down next to it. "Wake me in an hour."

The wake-up call never comes, or at least, not an hour later, but several hours, considering that the sun is going down right now and Ghost finds himself in a cage with his arms bound behind his back with rough rope. "The fuck is going on?" He asks, his tongue heavy as he speaks, eyes needing a few moments to focus again, ears still ringing, making hearing hard. Someone must have knocked him out cold when he took a nap, how embarrassing for someone like him to get caught off-guard by some amateur bandits.

Something... Someone, steps in front of the cage. "Look at that. The shithead who killed my brother is awake." That someone kicks the bars of the cage, making Ghost flinch at the rattling sound that comes with it.

He quickly gathers himself again, checking the guy outside the cage but not recognizing the person. "I killed many brothers... So, who the fuck are you?" Ghost asks, sounding overly confident, as always, even in situations where he should show a bit of restraint. Especially in situations like this.

The person grabs onto the bars of the cage and rattles them, baring his teeth like an animal. "You dick. I'll make you remember before... Hey! What the fuck! What is that?!" The bandit jumps and swats at something in the air but can't quite catch it.

Ghost's eyes widen, his fairy is back, he has been asking himself where they have gotten lost while he was in that cage. But he can't let their distraction be for nothing, he uses the chance to break the binding and steal the key from the bandits' leather belt to get out of the cage.

"Shit!" The bandit curses as he turns to look between Ghost and whatever is attacking him but decides to ultimately pay attention to Ghost, the bigger threat. Ghost's fairy uses the chance to get away to safety, leaving Ghost to fight without worrying about getting them into more danger.

It's clear as day that Ghost is no amateur and that there was no way in hell that the bandit would ever win. But somehow he managed to get away, right where Ghost's little fairy waited for him.

Ghost isn't fast enough to save them, he watches as the now bleeding bandit grabs the little fluttering thing and squeezes his hand shut until the noises stop and the forest completely falls silent.

He makes quick work of the bandit, he doesn't even look at his face as he cuts off his head. All he cares for is the little fairy in the bandits hand that's laying there, like a little doll, unmoving.

"Come now. Don't play with me, little fairy." Ghost says and picks their body up with shaking hands.

He never felt like this before, so damn helpless and clueless. What is he supposed to do? How can he turn back time to get his fairy back. The little chattering fairy that he learned to care for.

"I know you warned me it's dangerous... I should have listened." He says, not crying. He can't. He won't. Ghost never cries. Even if he wants to. "It's my fault you're dead. I'm sorry."

He remembers the promise they made a few weeks ago.

"Let's see the world together. You and I." They have happily announced back then and Ghost couldn't say now to their happy, smiling face. "Let's see the world together. You and I."

He would give his own life just for one more chance with them.

A single tear rolls down Ghost's cheek. It's more than he ever allowed himself before. It lands on their tiny body, staining their clothes.

Ghost searches for a spot to bury them, he knows they love flowers, so why not bury them in a field of them.

Just as he's finished with the hole in the ground, the air picks up, the breeze becomes warmer with flower petals and leaves flying through the air, surrounding him.

"That hole is way too small for someone as big as me."

Ghost knows that voice, he looks down only to find the body missing. Instead he sees naked feet, human feet standing in front of him, he looks up, following the long legs.

"How?" He asks, ignoring their nakedness and standing up, touching them, their humanly sized body. "I saw your dead body. He squeezed..."

"I don't know, Ghost. In my last moment I just remembered that we promised to travel the world together and when I opened my eyes again, I saw you on your knees, digging that hole." They explain with a smile, gratefully taking the woolen cloak from Ghost's hands and wrapping it around their shoulders. "I think Lady Fate is still not done with our story, Ghost."

At first it was a big change, gone was the tiny fairy fluttering around his head all the time, but Ghost quickly got used to seeing the other human next to him every night and day. Ghost had to teach them how to be human at first but he was sure that this was a challenge they would master too. One step at a time. And this time, Ghost would listen to his fairy turned human more often.

#simon riley #cod x gn!reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod mwii

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lostbookmark · 2 days ago

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MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Finding Masterlist here

Summary: After a failed engagement, you move back home and reconnect with your friends. Maybe, just maybe you can find love with someone you never expected.

Pairing: Yoongi x F. Reader

Warnings: Explicit Sex, Swearing, Cheating (Not Yoongi), Fighting, Unprotected Sex, Protected Sex, Toxic Past Relationship,

Genre: Enemies(?) to Lovers, Neighbors to Lovers, Small Town romance. Hurt-Comfort, Slight Angst, Romance

A/N: The first few chapters will be just plot. Smut lovers need to wait until chapter 5. Also, a couple of readers that wanted to be tagged I couldn't tag you. Your name wouldn't pop up for me to click on.

“Last box,” Hobi said, bringing in the last of your belongings and placing it on your kitchen table that you pulled out of your parent’s dusty storage unit earlier in the day.

As much as you love Hobi, you couldn't live with him forever in his small two bedroom apartment anymore. Jungkook had texted you about a house that he had recently renovated on a plot of land that they owned near the neighboring Tannie Farms. He had offered to rent it to you before putting it out there for the public. He said he would rather have family in it and not some stranger that he can't trust. You quickly accepted his offer and started packing your clothes the same day. Hobi begged you to stay a little longer, but you know that you were holding him back. Your social butterfly of a best friend started to cancel plans and dates to stay with you because you wanted to become a hermit and not leave your bed. It wasn't fair. You wanted him to happily live his life, and you knew he wouldn't if you were still there.

Your mother and father, thankfully, offered to let you raid their garage and storage unit for anything that you wanted to take for your new home. It was mostly junk that they were glad to get rid of. This way, they didn't have to worry about how they were going to throw it away. You came away with an old dark oak table and a couple of matching chairs that both wobbled a little bit. You are going to need to shove something under the legs to stabilize them. You also took a lumpy couch that used to be white in color but has since turned a dingy gray color after being stored away for so many years. Your old mattress from high school that you're almost positive will kill your back but is better than sleeping on the floor and a dresser whose drawers won't open without a fight. You did, however, pass on a large area rug due to the fact that it smelled like something had died in it. They weren't the best, but it was better than having nothing at all. You'll be able to save up for better furniture later for your new house at a later date.

The two story white farmhouse with black rustic looking shutters was absolutely beautiful, and you fell in love as soon as you saw it. It was tucked away on a back road that was pure dirt several miles out of the main town square where it sat on perfectly manicured green grass. The wrap-around porch was decorated with various potted flowers, both big and small, in a range of beautiful colors. Large black solar powered lanterns lay scattered along around the perimeter of the dark wooden porch that emits a warm glow after sunset, setting a cozy and welcoming atmosphere. A large porch swing sat on the back of the porch has a perfect view of Tannie Farms in the far horizon where their crops seem to go on forever. Where the stalks of corn sway in the breeze around the various tractors and other farm equipment that sat in their cornfield. It was a picture-perfect view.

The house itself had large floor to ceiling windows with french doors that have matching black trim all encased in brand new white siding. Inside, the new hardwood floors and freshly painted beige walls were perfectly clean and crisp looking. He was able to give it the perfect blend of modern and cozy at the same time. However, the best part was the quiet. It was so serene and peaceful that you were afraid that the silence might scare you after being away from it for so many years. You never got to have serene or peaceful when you lived in the city in a busy apartment complex along the main street of a popular area. Sirens, honking cars and yelling were a part of your everyday life. After a few months, they just became background noise that blurred into your daily life. Changkyun also always preferred to have friends over at all hours for drinks and music. He didn't care if you needed to sleep or if you had to get up early. He only cared about impressing his friends. You couldn't even complain, or it would start a fight. He told you all the time that you were not on the lease, so it wasn't your decision. It was miserable, and looking back, you don't know why you stayed as long as you did.

There was, however, just one thing that Jungkook seemed to have forgotten to tell you about until after you had signed the contract and handed it back to him. That your one…singular neighbor, who you also have to share a large driveway with happened to be Min Yoongi. You thought it was a well thought out move on his end. Kook said that you wouldn't even see him since he is pretty much at the farm most of the day. It didn't really help put you at ease, but it didn't scare you away either. It was time to grow up and move forward. Like Hobi has said. You were adults, and it's time to put all the bullshit away.

“Coming through,” Jungkook called out as he and Tae came through your door carrying your super old double mattress from high school.

They head up stairs carrying it above their heads as you follow behind them and enter your bedroom. They toss it on the floor, and you can see a cloud of dust fly out of it. The particles linger suspended in the air. You'll have to figure out how to clean it later. The guys look at each other and then around the bare room in confusion. You ignore them and push the mattress into the corner of your room with your foot and give them a smile.

“What?” You ask them as you watch them as they continue to look around the barren room. “What's the matter?”

“Don't you have a bed frame?” Tae asks, scratching his head.

“Or a box spring?” Kook added a second later.

“No, I didn't see them earlier. I think my mom might have gotten rid of them. It's not a big deal. I’m just happy I don't have to sleep on the hard floor or the lumpy couch,” you say with a shrug. Down stairs, you hear a crash and something break.

“I'll buy you a new one,” Joon called up the stairs.

You sigh and head back downstairs to see what your loveable but clumsy friend broke. Thankfully, it was just a vase used for decoration that you had bought on sale and held no sentimental value. Shooing him away from the mess, you take over the clean-up carefully, avoiding cutting yourself of the sharp shards of colorful glass.

You couldn't be more thankful for them than you already were. You were thankful for Jin when he dropped off dinner for you since you haven't gotten geroceries yet. You were thankful for Jungkook for offering you the house. Also, for everyone else who helped you move things from your parent's storage unit and garage to the house doing all the heavy lifting for you. You really did love them. They were here. They never gave up on you.

“Are you going to be okay here alone? What if it's haunted?” Hobi asked, giving you wide, scared eyes. “You can always stay one more night with me if you're scared. You know I don't mind.”

“It's not haunted,” Jungkook said, rolling his eyes.

“Besides, she’s not completely alone,” Jimin said, looking at you with a knowing smirk and a wink. “Yoongi is just right over there.”

You curse yourself for letting it slip to Jimin one drunken night bar hopping in college that you may have found Yoongi attractive. You distinctly remember him and Kook playing darts in one of the darkened bars that your group frequented. You remember the way he bit his lip in concentration as his fingers held the dart, his dark hair falling over a red headband around his forehead. You just blurted it out loud without thinking as you sat with Jimin at a little table against the wall. The little shit never let you live it down when the two of you were alone. You are actually surprised, though, that it still seems to be a secret between only the two of you. You guess you can be thankful for that.

“I'll be fine,” you tell him, dismissing his concerns. “You guys can go. I have the first day of school tomorrow, and I need to get things around.”

Namjoon had agreed and helped round everyone up by the kitchen door. After a round of goodbyes and thank yous, you waved from your kitchen door as they dispersed. Kook, Tae, and Jimin went next door to Yoongi’s and the others left in their cars. You collapsed on your lumpy couch with a sigh. Closing your eyes, you tell yourself you'll unpack tomorrow. Laying there, you take in the quietness of the house. It was something that you would have to get used to. There was no extra body puttering around and making background noise. No, Hobi, singing early in the morning as he got ready for work. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the ticking of the clock were the only things that could be heard. For the first time, it was just you. You had never lived alone, but you felt excited to see how you were going to do. It was going to be a welcomed new adventure, and you couldn't wait to see how you'll do.

You stand on the sidewalk in front of the school with your students smashed together in a yellow square that was taped off just for them as you waited for their parents to pick them up. Your first day of school went surprisingly well for the most part. When Joon found out you were back in town for good, he offered you a teaching position at your old elementary school where you had once attended. The exact same one where Jin and Hobi became your best friends. Where Jin shared his sandwich with you when you forgot your lunch in the third grade. Where you had to beat up some little boy for making fun of Hobi's shoes when you were six. You don't even remember his name now, but you gave him a bloody nose, and your dad had to pick you up early. It was a lot smaller than what you remembered. It always seemed so big when you were younger and playing on the playground, running around laughing, playing tag. When you all were so innocent and free back then.

You were initially excited that you didn't have to job hunt in the surrounding school districts, but you went into panic mode when Namjoon dropped the bomb on you. It was for Pre-K. You never taught such young kids before. You always had fourth graders in the past. Ten year olds. Ten year olds who could, for the most part, listen when they wanted to and take care of themselve. They didn't need to be taught to walk in a straight line or to raise their hand if they needed something. They knew how to zip their coats, put on gloves, and tie their shoes. These were some things that you never thought about having to teach, but yet here you were.

You didn't know anything about four year olds. All that you knew was that they were loud and sticky, and their bathroom habits were iffy at best. Thankfully, Joon, pretty much did your entire months worth of lesson plans for you, mostly to bribe you into saying yes to his job offer. All you had to do was follow his directions until you got the hang of it for yourself. Coloring, writing their name, singing, and dancing it all seemed pretty simple. Seven hours of playtime, easy, peasy.

Not quite. A few things you learned today were that they like to run and you need better antiperspirant. Do not..... repeat..... do not wear heels again. No matter how short you think the heel is….it's still too tall. You will need to buy several pairs of comfy flats and tennis shoes. Always do head count because you might have thought you lost one child between the art room and your classroom. Turns out he was just hiding under a table in the corner of the room. However, when it was all said and done, there were no tears from either you or the kids. You will take it as a win.

“Bye, Jae,” you say, waving at your last student that was picked up by her parents. You let out a sigh of relief as you watched them walk away as she held their hands, skipping between them. Good riddance, and now you get to do it all again tomorrow.

“Y/n,” a voice said your name, making you turn toward it. You smile slightly when you see the school’s music teacher standing behind you.

“Yes, can I help you…” You trail off, clearly not remembering his name.

“Shinwon,” he said, holding his hand out for you to shake. You politely shake his hand and look at him expectly. “I just wanted to check in and see how your first day was. I know a new school and new city can be intimidating.”

“Oh, no,” you say, shaking your head. “I grew up around here so…not new. I know this place very well.”

“Oh,” he said with a surprised smile, and he tilted his head to the side like he was amused. “I was going to offer to show you around our little sleepy town, but I guess you know it better than I do, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you say with a shrug and look around, trying to find a way to get out of this conversation when you spot Namjoon, who was walking to his car. When you finally catch his attention, he just waves at you happily before getting into his car. You think you see him laughing. Jerk.

“Well, then maybe you can show me some hidden gems around here,” he says and hands you his phone. “Here, put your number in, and I'll text you mine.”

You take his phone and input your information very reluctantly. You consider giving him a fake number, but that would probably make things super awkward later. You hand it back to him, and he smiles brilliantly at you, his perfect teeth on display. You watch as his fingers fly across the screen before he looks back up to you.

“I sent you a text,” he tells you. “Maybe we can hang out someday. We could possibly go into the city and do something?”

“Listen, I just got out of a relationship,” you started to tell him, but he cut you off.

“No, problem,” he said, still smiling. “It doesn't have to be a date. We can do something just as friends. Friends have dinner all the time. Maybe we can even see a movie one night.”

“Maybe, if I can find the time,” you say with a tight smile. “I should go, but it was nice meeting you.”

You turn on your heel and quickly walk away as fast as your aching feet can carry you, leaving him standing there alone. Yup, definitely tennis shoes from now on. You will be able to keep up with the kiddos better and, more importantly, run away from men faster. Perfect.

Getting out of your car, you grimace as your aching feet hit the hard cement of the garage floor. You didn't mean to slam your car door so hard as you begin to limp and waddle your way up to your house in a desperate need to soak your feet in your tub. You can almost sigh in satisfaction at the thought of the hot water surrounding you as you lie there in the clawfoot tub until your fingers turn pruny. As the hot, steaming water relaxes your muscles, taking away the ache from your feet as you drop a bath bomb that fizzes while listening to music and maybe…probably drink some wine.

“Bad first day of school?” You recognize Yoongi's voice behind you, causing you to freeze. You're embarrassed that he caught you walking like an idiot.

“No,” you answer truthfully as you give him a surprised look when you turn to look at him.

“It is the first day, right?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you before popping the hood of a side-by-side that sat on his side of the driveway. “Joon mentioned something about it yesterday.”

“Yeah, umm… it was pretty good. I might have a blister and an unwanted admirer, but hey, no one stuck anything where it didn't belong. So, good day.” You explain not expecting the conversation to go much further.

You were surprised when he actually started laughing. You don't think you have ever made Min Yoongi laugh. It was a good look on him. You wouldn't mind if he did more around you.

“Please tell me it's not some single dad?” he asks once he stops laughing. He uses the wrench in his hand to tinker around with mechanical things that are beyond your knowledge. You can drive a car but that's about it. You just pray that you never get a flat tire in the middle of nowhere. Triple A is a thing, right?

“Worse, the music teacher. He offered to show me around town,” you say with a nod of your head. “Like what was he going to show me? Jin’s cafe?”

“I mean. We do have a new hardware store in town,” he informs you while he concentrates on his task. “Maybe he can show you where the screws are.”

A small silence falls between the two of you as you look around in contemplation.

“Is that..” You start but pause for a second, and you feel your face heat up. “Is that supposed to be sexual?”

“I don't know what you are talking about,” he said innocently and smirked at you as his eyes met yours through the fallen blonde hair in his eyes. He shakes it out of his vision and continues with his task. You shake your head at him, limping and waddling your way up the stairs to your house. “Wait, I have some of your mail. Let me go get it.”

You lean your hands against the railing of the porch as he disappears in his house. You take turns lifting each foot off the ground behind you and giving it a little wiggle, hoping to find some sort of relief. He better hurry because all you want to do is sit down. You continue your little foot routine when you hear the squeak of his screen door open and Yoongi walks across the driveway to you. Reaching up, he hands you a singular piece of mail over your railing that you take from him, and he retreats back to the side-by-side. You sigh in annoyance when you see what he gave you.

“To the current resident….” You say loudly. “Do you need to lower your cable costs? You really felt the need to give me this junk mail?”

“It would have been a federal offense if I hadn't,” he answered while not even looking at you.

“Well, thanks,” you say sarcastically and turn back toward the house. You pull out your mess of keys that jingle and jangle with too many keychains as you unlock your door.

“Y/N,” Yoongi calls out again, making you look over your shoulder at him once again. “I would have helped…you know….yesterday when you moved in. I just figured that you wouldn't want me there.”

That made you feel horrible. You felt like a horrible human being who is still acting childish over some weird grudge from college. If what Hobi said was true, it was only one-sided on your part. Your shoulders slump just a little bit before you turn back to him once again. His hands are fiddling with that wrench looking a little nervous as he tries not to stare at you for too long. The wrench makes quite the clicking sound as he turns it over and over again as he twirls it with his finger. He glances up at you quickly before turning his eyes back to the silver tool in his hand.

“I appreciate it,” you tell him as you tap that piece of junk mail on the palm of your opposite hand just as nervous. “Maybe, if you want to, that is. Maybe we can start over again and actually try to be friends for once.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds good,” he rambles, agreeing with you, trying to nod his head nonchalantly. “Hey, are you going to help out at the Farmers Market again? The guys think you will bring more business in.”

“I highly doubt that, but yeah, I can come and help again,” you answer with a nod of your head. “Have a good evening, Yoongi,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

“You too,” he says, eyes watching you until you unlock the door.

Finally, getting into your house, you close the door and lock it behind you. You reach down undo the straps of your shoes and proceed to kick them off with a careless fling of your foot, not caring where they land as you hear them hit the floor with a thump. You waddle your way to that old dirty couch and flop down unceremoniously with a groan. You think your aching feet hurt more now than they did in the heels. Your nice hot bath with your wine and the bath bomb is going to have to wait until you get enough motivation to stand up, and that might not be anytime soon. You might have to put off unpacking one more day.

You turn your head and look out your living room window. You can see Yoongi with the top half of his body bent over and working away on the vehicle on his side of the driveway. You never thought in a million years that you would be friends with the cute, popular basketball player turned handsome neighbor. You smile a little as you continue to stare at him, and you think you might feel a little fluttering in your stomach. You're going to have to squish those butterflies. That flapping, flitting feeling that you haven't felt in years makes your body tingle in excitement. Your heart was not ready for that feeling. It wasn't ready at all.

Tagged Readers

@mar-lo-pap, @bontensbabygirl, @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs, @redragdoll, @svnbangtansworld,

#yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x you #min yoongi smut #yoongi au #bts min yoongi #min yoongi #bts yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #suga bts #bts suga #bts fic #bangtan fanfic #bts smut

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arilevenatz · 2 days ago

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Chasing Shadows - TEASER

Pairing: popular guy!yeosang x chubby!fem!reader

Genre: Angst (?), fluff

Word count: 582

Warnings: kinda frat boy yeosang, him and his friends are handsome (yes that's a warning), reader has anxiety, she is also insecure, anxiety attacks, yeo is cheeky, like really cheeky, you might wanna flick him a bit, bestfriend! San and wooyoung, there are prob gonna be more

AN: y'all bear with me this is my first time posting on Tumblr, I'm still figuring out stuff. I had a dream about this and I decided that I'm gonna write a yeo fic. And also if you wanna get tagged, you can give your @ in the comments I'll tag y'all. And also please reblog and like, so I can get more motivated!!

"stop mocking me. I know people like you. you guys go up to girls like me and say you like them only to say 'April fools' or say 'its a dare' later. I hate guys like you"

His grin fades, his expression turning serious, but his eyes still hold a glint of mischief. "You really think that's what I'm doing?" He tilts his head to the side, studying your face intently. He maintains eye contact, his expression unreadable. He sees the suspicion in your eyes, and it only seems to fuel his mischievous glint. He leans forward, his voice lowering. "Let me ask you something..." He studies your face intently, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "First off... do I look like I have a problem finding girls to talk to?" He gestures to himself, a hint of pride in his tone. "And second..." His voice drops lower as he deliberately maintains eye contact. "Second what?" You shout.

He leans in closer, and says "Second, would I really waste my time pretending to like someone just to play an April Fool's prank?" His words send a shiver down your spine as he pulls back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or maybe..." He looks at you with a half-smirk, half-serious expression "You're actually quite... interesting. Not many people stand up to me like you do." His eyes crinkle again as he studies your reaction "And hey..." He reaches over and lightly taps your finger. You retreat your hand from his touch. His expression shifts to a playful pout, though his eyes still hold a glint of amusement "Wow, so I'm not even worthy of a tiny hand tap?" He leans back in his chair, studying your defensive posture with interest "You're not scared of me, are you?" He chuckles low in his throat, his gaze never leaving yours. "listen, can I not just like you? I like you. I want to be with you"

"No! people don't simply like girls like me" you felt like crying, but you can't. His expression turns mockingly serious, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, so you're saying you're not likeable? You think I can't like you because you're... what?" He crosses his arms, leaning forward again, his curiosity piqued.

"You know what I am"

"No I don't"

"Fuck. Fine! Im fat and ugly"

His face freezes and for a moment, he looks genuinely shocked. But then, he lets out a harsh laugh. "Fat and ugly? He shakes his head, his gaze raking over your form appraisingly. "You really think that's what I see when I look at you?"

"You don't need to look at me like that, I am like that so fuck off I don't need you laughing at my face."

You stand up harshly, take your bag and walk outside the library. He follows you and grabs your upper arm, not harshly but firmly enough to hold your attention. "Listen carefully..." His voice softens, losing its usual mocking tone. "I'm not some creep who goes around lying to get in girls' pants." You open your mouth to say something but he quickly shits you off. "You know what I see when I look at you? I see someone who's honest, even if it hurts. I see someone who's strong, even when they feel weak. And I see someone who's fucking beautiful, inside and out."

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axolotl4days · 9 hours ago

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Batfam au angst :) also leading into (platonic) yandere batfam

What if Jason wasn't the first kid to die :)

And what if Damian wasn't Bruce's only biological kid :)

Au idea I'm simple terms: what if Bruce had a daughter in his early years of batman, who went missing and dead, but then years later reappeared and was found again, Bruce and the others won't make the same mistake twice.

Author's note before reading: Please keep in mind I'm new to this fandom, so I don't know much about what's canon. I simply get creative ideas really easily and have decided to share them.

If anyone else likes this idea, feel free to rewrite or add onto the concept, if you do please tag me I'd love to see what others do with this concept

I'm picturing reader to be the same age as or potentially slightly younger than Damian, but no specific ages are mentioned

Damian POV:

It was a day like any other, awful, Damian had to go to school. He didn't hate school, just the people there, loud, annoying, nosy.

He went about his day the same as always, reading in class and working on his work, until suddenly the principle came to class abruptly saying they had a new student, which the teacher promptly assigned to sit next to Damian. Great.

The teacher also informed him that he would be the one to show this new student around. So Damian braced himself for the extra annoying questions about him and his family, after all that's what people always want to know.

But to his suprised? This girl didn't care about any of that, simply asking questions about the class and school. She didn't even ask if he was really a Wayne, she looked a bit suprised but it wasn't the usual suprise most people had, and she didn't ask him any questions about it so it didn't matter.

As he showed her around he found out that they had the same classes, he heard her sigh of relief, but when questioned she said she was glad because it ment she wouldn't be alone in any of her classes and she'd have someone to turn to.

As the day went on they would go to class and work on classwork, it seems his new classmate was a lot smarter than the rest of them and he didn't have to constantly help her with work.

At the end of the day he made a mental note of a new acquaintance.

Later that day

"Ah, Master Damian, welcome back. How was your day at school?" Alfred asked, greeting the young boy

"It was alright Pennyworth, we had a transfer student today, but she seemed to be quite intelligent unlike the rest of those peasants" Damian replied

"Oh? A transfer student? In the middle of the school year? How odd."

"Yeah, I'll keep an eye out for any suspicious behavior, but there wasn't anything out of the ordinary, her name is Y/n." Damian said, but after saying her name he noticed Alfred looked pale

"Pennyworth? Are you feeling ill? Do I need to inform father?" Damian asked

"No no, I'm quite alright, it's just, I... used to know someone with that name, so I was suprised to hear it. That's all." Alfred replied, but he still looked pale

"If you say so. I'm going to head to my room and work on schoolwork before it's time for patrol" Damian said, and he was gone without another word

Alfred's POV:

'Calm yourself Alfred. It's a normal name that anyone could have, besides, it's been 20 years. Even if it was her she wouldn't be part of the young masters class. Still... I should inform Master Bruce, incase he mentions this classmate' Alfred thinks to himself before heading to the batcave.

There he finds both Bruce and Tim, working on the computer, searching for sightings of criminal activity, recently rumors of a new villain with unknown powers had started to arise, so it was the batman's job to keep Gotham safe

"Ahem, apologies for interrupting, but I need to borrow Master Bruce for a moment" Alfred says

"Did something happen Alfred?" Bruce asks

"No, not necessarily, it's nothing serious but we need to talk" Alfred replies

Bruce gets up and follows Alfred out of the room

"What is it Alfred? You look like you've seen a ghost." Bruce states

"Apologies Sir, as I said, it's nothing serious, however Damian informed me of a new classmate at school today" Alfred starts

"In the middle of the year?" Bruce comments

"That's what I said, however that isn't the point, I simply wanted to let you know before hand, incase the young master mentions this classmate infront of you.." Alfred pauses

"That's it? Why would you need to inform me of that" Bruce asks confused

"Well you see. He said that her name was... Y/n" Alfred states, and Bruce becomes just as pale as he is

"I see.... did Damian tell you anything else about this.... classmate?" Bruce asks

"No, he did not. But simply stated he'd keep an eye out for anything suspicious." Alfred said

"I understand." Bruce said with a deep sigh

"Are you alright Master Bruce? I know it's been a long time but-"

"I'm fine Alfred. I just... I'm fine. I need to head back to work now, we still don't know what this new villain is capable of, or what they're after." Bruce says, turning away

"Alright sir, if you insist. Please take care of yourself."

Alfred says, but he knows how Bruce is

The patrol went on as normal, and so did school. Nothing particularly interesting happened it was a week like any other, Damian and y/n would work on schoolwork together during breaks, since y/n joined late she had a lot of work to catch up on but she didn't have much trouble and Damian helped her when she did. The two had even become friends, turns out they had a lot in common, and some classmates tried to joke about how they were like siblings, but the two didn't mind. The jokes did make Damian aware of how... familiar y/n looked. He pondered the idea of her being a child from a one night stand, but the timelines didn't match up so he brushed the thought away, thinking it was a coincidence that she looked so much like Bruce. But nothing out of the ordinary happened of note, not until one fateful patrol where Damian made a discovery

Y/n POV:

Y/n didn't know where to go after waking up again, it was clear so many things have changed, and her dad taught her well. She needed more information before she made any decisions.

Unfortunately this ment she had no place to stay. After all, she couldn't go to an orphanage, she wasn't an orphan and she didn't have any documents or a story on where she came from. She knew better than to go to the police, what would she even say to them? So here she was. Sitting under a bridge hoping she won't get sick. But she was strong, she'd do what she'd have to in order to understand the situation better. Even if that means sleeping under a bridge like a troll, even if it means only eating the food provided by the school, even if it means-

"Hello there. Are you alright?" A voice asked making her jump

She turns to see, some sort of vigilante. She had heard in passing about how her dad Batman wasn't the only vigilante in Gotham anymore, so she figured it was one of them

"Oh um, I'm alright" she replied, she hadn't planned to meet any of them, she knew she might meet batman, which she kind of hoped for because then she could get some answers, but this was new territory this was- wait a minute why does he kind of look like Damian?

"Are you sure? Your sitting underneath a bridge at night, kids shouldn't be out here like this you could get hurt. Or worse. Why aren't you with your parents?" The vigilante (Damian) said, after recognizing his classmate, assessing the situation

"It's... complicated" y/n replies, before wondering how much she should tell him "I... can't really talk about it, but I can't go back home.. not yet at least, and I don't have anywhere else to go, so I've just been here" she states, hoping she didn't say to much

The vigilante just stays there for a moment, not saying anything, and she wonders if she said to much or if he thinks she's a criminal

"I see. In any case, you shouldn't be out here alone, the streets of Gotham aren't safe, however if you insist on staying out here may I suggest somewhere that isn't so easily spotted? You wouldn't want to be attacked. I know a few places that are safer than.. this" The vigilante says offering a hand

"Oh, uhm" y/n thinks for a moment, weighing her options "I'll take you up on that offer, it's not great down here" y/n replies, taking his hand

The two go to a more remote, slightly cleaner area

"Here we are, even if it's temporary this would be a better place for a shelter than where you were before. I don't know what's going on, but if you need assistance, im willing to help" the vigilante replies

"Thank you, you've really been more than enough help and I appreciate it a lot. If I need anything il let you know....."

"... Robin. My name is Robin." Robin says, noticing her pause

"Robin... thank you for the help, good luck with the rest of your patrol" y/n says

"Of course, you be careful now, always keep an eye out." Robin says, before leaving

'Phew.... he's gone. That was definitely him, and he definitely recognized me. Now what. He didn't say anything so they're definitely still doing the secret identity thing. I guess I'll just have to play it cool and hope he doesn't say anything at school. If any of the teachers find out I'm definitely gonna get investigated and then my whole plan will be thrown out the window.' Y/n thinks to herself 'Maybe this is a good thing, if he's Robin, it's likely that dad's still Batman too, which means I might run into him. What if he doesn't recognized me? What if he does recognize me?? What if- what if he didn't miss me.... no, no! This is dad, of course he missed me but it's been... so long... what do I do if he doesn't want me back...' y/n starts to worry about before she falls to the floor and starts to cry

Which, unbeknownst to her, Damian saw, he doesn't know why she's crying or why it makes him feel so... protective but he knows somethings up, so he goes off and reports what he knows to Batman

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

Aaaaand cliffhanger! Mwahahahaha

I would have kept going, and I know exactly what's coming next, but I've been typing for awhile and I have no idea how long this post is, and I don't want it to be too long

So I'm stopping it there,

This wasn't supposed to be this much but my creative brain decided to run with this idea, so there's gonna be a part 2 soon

Also I've decided to call this au

Batman Dead Daughter Au

Because.... idk what else to call it and if I'm gonna make a part 2 and potentially more depending on how this goes, I'm gonna need something to refer to it with.

As I said before, I'm extremely new to the batman stuff

Pretty much all of my knowledge comes from youtube and tumblr, so bare with me if things are out of character

I've also never written fanfiction before, it's always just been in my head, so the writing is probably a bit funny

Yes I'm a writer in the making but I haven't actually gotten to the writing part

And fanfiction is a bit different

Hope yall like the concept tho

Again, feel free to write your own version of this if you want to, just tag me so I can read it too lol

#batfam x reader #batman #damian wayne #yandere batman x reader #yandere batfam #yandere damian wayne #Batman Dead Daughter Au

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bullet-prooflove · 1 day ago

Note

Heya! May I request "Running on two or three hours of sleep" for Jamie Dutton?

(My Yellowstone blog is "Stupidyellowstoneshitposts, by the way. Just so you can see I'm active😝)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @kcloveswrestling @dakotapaigelove @noxytopy @chaostwinsofdestruction

Companion piece to:

Break Free - Jamie decides it's time to break free from Yellowstone.

Colorado - Jamie takes off to Colorado for a break after John's betrayal.

Enough - Jamie questions his self worth.

Jamie’s already on his third cup of coffee by the time you awaken. He hears your light footsteps padding across the hardwood floor and looks up to see you standing there in the doorway of the kitchen, the blanket from the bed draped over your shoulders to ward off the chill in the Colardo air.

“How bad is it?” You ask gesturing at the phone clasped between his hands.

He swallows hard as he sets the device down at the breakfast island, pushing it away from him with his fingertips. It’s been a week since he’s looked at his phone, he’d locked it away in the glove compartment of your car when the two of you first took off to Colardo and hadn’t retrieved it until the early hours of this morning because he couldn’t sleep. The two of you are returning to Montana today and he’d wanted to see what he was coming back to.

“Over 100 missed calls, a dozen voice mails and some texts.” He tells you as he rubs his palm across his chin in agitation. There’s dark stubble starting to blossom across his jaw, something you’ve never seen before because he’s always been forced to play the role of the clean cut lawyer. It’s a sign that he’s changing, that he’s starting to work things out for himself.

“Have you been through them?” You ask him as you take up residence on the stool alongside him, shifting the blanket so it covers your bare legs. You’re wearing one of his shirts and a pair of blank panties, both of which aren’t conducive to the cool mountain air. Jamie gets up and moves to the thermostat, altering the temperature before he answers your question.

“I started to but…” He trails off, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck.

But it’s overwhelming, you know. Jamie’s departure from Bozemen had thrown a spanner in the works for a lot of people and their clambering for his attention, trying to draw him back, trying to manipulate him. Your man, he’s in a very vulnerable position right now, his life is in flux, his identity shaken, he’s trying to find his own way in the world, the one that allows him to live his own life, one not in the service of others.

“Let me help.” You say picking up the phone and scrolling through it. It’s a jumble of notifications. You decide to dismiss the calls and delete the voicemails as they’re all reactionary and Jamie doesn’t need his father growling in his ear about his disappointed he is.

You work through the texts as Jamie starts to heap teaspoons of coffee into the French press, waiting for the kettle to boil.

“Bullshit, bullshit, Beth, bullshit, bullshit. A nice one from Kayce, we’ll save for later.” You murmur as you get rid of the blatant disregard for Jamie and focus on the more important ones.

You set the phone back down on the worktop, your mission completed as Jamie returns to you, a freshly brewed mug of coffee in his hand. You take him from it gratefully, rising it to your lips to take a sip as he sits down alongside you.

“Thank you for all of this.” He says softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “For seeing I needed to get out of town and take a breath and for dealing with that.” He indicates to the phone.

He looks down at his hands, his thumb chasing over the brown leather strap of the watch you got him for his birthday.

“I’ve never been with someone who could see the real me, who understands me the way that you do.”

The women before you, they never wanted him, not really. They wanted the prestige of his political career, the hope of his inheritance. He has none of that now and still you’re here, taking care of him, protecting him.

“Jamie.” You say tenderly, capturing his hand in yours, fingers entwining. “That’s what you do when you love somebody, you try to help them when their struggling, you support them because they’re your person and you want them to be happy.”

Jamie tips his head up to meet your eyes. They’ve always been such a vivid shade of blue. Sometimes they’re as tempestuous as the ocean, others as calm as a clear sky on a sunny day. Right now they’re ambient, collected and resolved.

“I don’t know what the future looks like Dani.” Jamie tells you as he raises your hand to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the knuckles. “But whatever it is, I’m glad you’re here, that it’s something we can move forward with together.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#jamie dutton #jamie dutton x reader #yellowstone

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sorchathered · 2 days ago

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Snowfalls and Christmas wishes

Pairing- Rafael Barba x reader

Warnings- none, just fluff.

New York at Christmas time was easily the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. No matter how many times you ventured out in the winter it was always full of magic in a world that was woefully lacking in joy these days. Your boyfriend was a self proclaimed Scrooge, always seeing the worst of things and with his job you couldn’t blame him; but you always wished he could see it the way you did.

After the world’s longest day in the office the two of you finally stepped out into the fresh brisk air, snow lightly falling as you made your way through Central Park in search of some hot chocolate and then a nice night at home. Rafa was grumbling about the crowds and the unseasonably cold weather, and you couldn’t help but feel the need to stir the pot a little. Trailing a little behind him you scooped a handful of snow and lobbed it right at his back, the icy powder splatting against his coat and his hair. He whipped around with a scowl, his first thought that a group of kids had been the culprit; only to see you cackling behind your mittened hands nearly doubled over with glee.

“Oh Querida, you’ve messed up now. Those heels are not meant for running, and you just started a war.” He said with a grin as he launched forward and you squealed as you tried (and failed) to scurry away from him. He caught you easily, plopping the two of you in a snowbank as he grabbed a fresh handful of snow and dumped in right on top of your head. Both of you cold and flushed, you spent nearly twenty minutes chasing each other and lobbing snow. No one was the victor, but the smile on his face made you feel like a winner nonetheless.

Later that evening after changing into warm clothes and cozying up in your shared bed you ruffled his hair as he leaned in to kiss you. “Promise me that no matter how hard life gets we can try to find the little moments to be happy. I know it’s not easy, but I cherish these moments with you Rafa; I want nothing but happiness for you.” He held your gaze with soft eyes, kissing you with all the love he could pour into it, and promised to do that and more. You were his bright spot in an otherwise bleak existence, and he would hold on to that as long as life allowed.

Tagging- @honeytwrites @ryebecca @attapullman @pinguhub @arcane-vagabond @heavenssins

#svu #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #sorchastwelvedaysofficmas

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godmadeaterribleerror · 2 days ago

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More Than You Could Ever Know - Part 2

Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Big bonus chapter for fans of Ben being obsessed with Her.

Title from All I Want For Christmas is You by Mariah Carey

Word Count: 9.2k

Chapter Summary/Warnings: Ben and Ryan go shopping, and you all try to find a tree. Usual Warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth rotting fluff, established relationship, Christmas Special

Part 1 - Part 3

Read on A03!

Ben wasn’t sure when stores got so fucking big. He’d seen big box stores before—despite what She insisted, he wasn’t a fucking dinosaur—but this was downright insane. It was a goddamn warehouse, and a poorly designed, maze-like one at that. There was no fucking logic to any of this shit, because Ben took a turn from what seemed to be an electronics isle and ended up surrounded by fucking cheese. It didn’t help that it was only him and Ryan, and they both needed Her for this modern navigation shit. But She was off doing her stupid surprise—Ben had tried to call it a secret again and She’d stuck Her tongue out and flipped him off—so they had to figure this shit out alone, together.

It wasn’t going that well.

“What the fuck are these.” Ben grunted, his eyes narrowed on the shelf in-front of them, filled with weird looking, round stuffed animals. And a mango. And one brown thing that seemed to be staring into his goddamn soul.

Ryan—standing at Ben’s elbows and tapping his fingers on the half-full cart—shrugged nervously. “I think they’re called Squishmallows?”

“Stupid fucking name. What’s that,” Ben gestured to the brown one. “Even supposed to be-“

“Pancakes.” Ryan mumbled. “I think?”

“Huh.” Ben glowered at the plushie, and realized Ryan had nailed it. Stuffed pancakes. She’d like stuffed pancakes. “Good work, kid.”

Ben grabbed the pancakes, tossed them into the cart, and tried not to drown in the hot, bright pride bursting in his chest at Ryan’s grin as he started to push the cart once more.

“Wait.” Ben halted Ryan with a hand on his shoulder, and pointed back to the shelf. “You want one?”

Ryan turned a little red, his voice a soft fucking whisper as his heart stumbled in his chest. “Yes, please.”

“Grab it and we’ll get moving.”

Ryan nodded, choosing one of the weird animals—Ben would figure out exactly what the fuck it was later, but his best bet right now was a cat—and they moved on through the store.

“We got your pants.” Ben scanned around the store, half his attention on what they were supposed to be doing and half on making sure no fucking pussies started filming them. “And the shit for dinner.”

“And Butcher’s shirt,” Ryan added, and when Ben glanced down at him, he was frowning at the cart. “Do you think he’ll like it? He has shirts.”

Ben shrugged. “Everyone has fucking shirts, Ryan. Butcher will just be damn grateful you got him something.”

Ryan hummed, sounding slightly unconvinced, his bod still tensed, so Ben kept talking.

“And the asshole is fucking impossible to buy for. Trust me, kid, the shirt was a good idea. Butcher will like it.”

“Did you,” Ryan looked up at Ben with widened eyes. “Did you buy him something?”

“Have to. Got him for Secret Santa. And, fuck, don’t tell,” Ben muttered Her name. “I told you that shit. Supposed to be a fucking secret.”

“I won’t.” Ryan shrugged. “I mean, you’ll probably tell her, right?”

Ben snorted, because he would tell Her. The first damn thing he’d do when She got home was pull her into a long kiss and grumble against her lips that he’d told Ryan. And She’d hit his chest and give him a flat glare, teasing him about really not understanding the secret part of Secret Santa, and that would be it.

And Ryan fucking knew that. He knew that She and Ben didn’t lie to each other, and that when she hit Ben it was never painful or angry, and when Ben rolled his eyes at Her it was because she was a pretty fucking brat with a smart mouth, and he wouldn’t have her any other damn way. Ryan knew they’d never hurt or be really mad at each other, and he was finally starting to fucking get that they’d never hurt or be mad at him.

It was why, when Ben shook his head and kept walking—never going faster than Ryan could keep up with—the kid’s heart stayed even, and his face remained relaxed. Relaxed for Ryan, so still a little fucking small and nervous, but without panic or fear. And that was as much as Ben could ask for, because he wouldn’t have Ryan any other way either.

“What else do we need.” Ben asked, keeping his vigilant watch on the store around them as Ryan responded.

“Um, I need scrabble for Kimiko?” Ryan mumbled Her name, and Ben’s whole fucking body roared with love from the goddamn sound of it. “Needs something too- as well.” Ryan corrected himself, and Ben chuckled at his puffed-out chest and toothy smile.

“Good work, kid.” He muttered, patting Ryan on the back. “Got ideas?”

“For-“

Ben said Her name, and She glowed a little around his skull. He really fucking missed Her, and if he couldn’t sense that she was a least half-way across the damn city he’d go find Her. Keep his gaze away from Her stupid fucking surprise, but also keep Her by his side. Make Her help him and Ryan with this shit, because She’d know what to do. She always fucking knew what to do.

He’d missed Ryan’s answer. Ben had gotten so lost in the instinct of Her, alight in his body, that he hadn’t heard what the hell Ryan was trying to get her.

“What.”

“Butterfly bush.” Ryan mumbled, staring sheepishly at the cart. “I read about them in my science class? They’re plants that attract butterflies, and you said she likes butterflies? I dunno-“

“Ryan.” Ben snapped, making his voice stern. He didn’t know how to do that soft, sweet shit She did, but Ryan seemed to understand his own, harsher words just as well. Understand that Ben wasn’t fucking mad, just firm in what he said. “That’s a good fucking idea. They sell them here?”

Ryan nodded slowly, his heart slowing to an easy rhythm. “I think so?”

“Well,” Ben shrugged, looking around for some sort of sign that said Perfect fucking gift for amazing wife. “Let go find it.”

It took half a fucking hour, but they found the butterfly bush. Stashed in the back of the goddamn store, real damn pretty and all fucking pink and green. She’d fucking love it. Ben grunted that to Ryan, that this was a damn good gift, and the kid looked like he might explode with joy and pride. Christ, Ben might explode with joy and pride. They’d managed to get everything She’d asked them to—gifts, clothing, food—plus some extra shit like the pancakes, nobody had died, and he and Ryan were doing an amazing fucking job knowing Her. Ben had all his gifts for Her lined up, and they were fucking excellent, but the butterfly bush was a stroke of goddamn genius. Ben wasn’t sure where the hell Ryan got his brains from, because Ben wasn’t an idiot, but he wasn’t that fucking smart, and Homelander had been a goddamn pussy dumbass. Maybe the kid’s mom, Butcher’s dead wife, but a smart lady shouldn’t have married fucking Butcher.

She’d say people might argue that She shouldn’t be married to Ben, but that she also loved him and adored him, and didn’t really fucking care what random fucking pussies thought about them. That maybe Ryan’s mom had seen something better in Butcher, just like She saw something better in Ben.

But that was why Ben was almost certain Ryan had to, somehow, against all fucking odds, be related to Her by blood. The kid was too generous like that, too kind like that, too fucking smart to be anything else. Ben could fucking see Her on Ryan’s face as they wandered through the store for Kimiko’s scrabble. See Her in the wide awe at all the stupid shit on the shelves, in the real, raw fucking happiness when they found what they were looking for.

See Her in the slight, hopeful gape on Ryan’s face as the kid halted in front of a terrarium, tracking the turtle inside with bright eyes.

Fuck, Ben could hear Her in Ryan’s voice. Hear that soft, gentle nervousness She had when she asked Ben for something. The tone Ben could make himself say no to if he tried.

Shit.

“Can we get it?” Ryan whispered, pointing to the turtle, swimming real goddamn slow around its tank. “Please?”

Ben scowled. That thing was real goddamn small—easily crushable if he and Ryan weren’t careful—and alive. It was fucking alive. It would need to be fed and cared for, and fuck Ben if he was going to do that-

“I’ll take care of it.” Ryan added, and Ben realized the kid had turned to look at him. Look at him with fucking puppy eyes. “I promise. It’ll stay in my room, and I’ll feed it and watch it and clean its tank-“

“Ryan.” Ben grunted. “Why the fuck do you want a turtle-“

“I like them.” Ryan glanced back to the tank. “They’re really peaceful. And, um, I just think they’re cool. I’ve always wanted one.”

Ben raised his brows. “Always.”

Ryan nodded. “I, um, I couldn’t get one. Mom said it was because I was too young, but I think it was because of, of the thing-“

“Fine,” Ben grunted, glaring at the turtle. He’d been going to give in anyway, might as well do it before the kid got all fucking sad in the middle of the store. Where random fucking asscucks could film it and put it online. Ryan could cry in the car, or when they were home, or when Ben was allowed to break phones and faces when people tried to exploit his son’s pain. Not when it could be avoided by buying a stupid fucking turtle. “But,” he said Her name, already reaching down the connection. “Has to approve this shit first. Deal?”

Ryan nodded eagerly, and Ben called Her name between their heads.

Benjamin. Is everything-

We’re fine. Ben glowered at the turtle, his voice a little lower than he’d like. Can we get Ryan a turtle.

There was a moment of silence before She responded, long enough for Ben to wonder if she somehow hadn’t heard him. What.

Ryan wants-

I heard you, Ben. But it’s December in Pennsylvania, where the fuck did you find a turtle for Ryan to want it.

Ben smirked into the air. Costco. This place is a fucking marvel, Sunshine, I got burger meat and pants-

I know how Costco works, my love. Why are you looking at turtles.

Ryan wants it.

She sighed in Ben’s head. I got that. He knows turtles can live for, like, twenty years, right?

Ben frowned. “Ryan, how long do turtles live.”

“Some can live for fifty years! And they’re so small, isn’t that cool?!”

Ben grunted, reaching back to Her. He knows. And he promised to take care of it.

Where does he want to keep it-

His room.

There was a beat of silence, and Ben knew She was considering it. He could practically fucking feel Her brain thinking.

I’m worried he’ll crush it, Ben. She mumbled in Ben’s head. He’s so much better at controlling his strength now, but if something happens on accident, he won’t forgive himself.

I know. But I’ll make sure that shit doesn’t happen. Ben watched Ryan carefully as he muttered to Her in the silence. I’ll carry it home, and Ryan and I can do some grip exercises to practice. He really fucking wants it, Sunshine.

She let out a long, slow breath in the sounds of the store around them. Okay. He can have one. But it’s your ass if something happens to it, Benjamin.

Ben grunted an agreement, rolling his eyes at the air, but he knew She could feel his affection, warm and stupidly fucking gooey in his body. Feel the radiance over his ribs when he nodded an affirmation at Ryan, and the kid grinned so widely it made something in Ben’s chest goddamn explode with pride.

“Thank you!” Ryan bounced slightly on his toes, grabbing Ben into a tight hug. “I’ll take good care of it, I promise. Thank you-“

“You’re welcome, kid.” Ben grunted, because She’d punch him if he just dismissed Ryan’s thanks. “Let’s grab it and get home.”

Ryan didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the goddamn week. She didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the week. She got home from Her secret, kissed Ben with a bright, happy hum Ben could feel everywhere around him, and let Ryan drag Her upstairs to look at the turtle.

“Oh, wow.” She titled Her head at it, crouching next to the tank with Ryan watching Her nervously. “That’s adorable, Ry. Have you named it?”

“Um, maybe? I’m not sure it’s a good name-“

“What is it?”

Ben could hear Ryan’s heart stutter nervously. “Bowser?”

She laughed. An amused, perfect, easy laugh with a pretty smile and nod that made Ryan’s heart ease, and Ben’s entire existence so fucking good.

“I like it.” She nudged Ryan’s shoulder with her’s, still watching the turtle. “It looks like a Bowser. And if we get a cat we can name it Koopa.”

Ben glared at Her. “We are not getting a fucking cat, Sunshine.”

“Fine,” She smiled at him, pretty eyes sharp and amused on his, full of love Ben could feel in the whole goddamn world. “A dog.”

He rolled his eyes, Her smile only grew, and Ben couldn’t find it in himself to be really, truly pissed. She was too fucking perfect for that. Everything was too fucking perfect for that lately. Because the next week passed in a blur, and it was almost all perfect, happy shit like this. It was kissing Her and helping Ryan wrap his gifts, eating dinner with his goddamn family every night, talking to them and watching tv with them and laughing with them.

Even work wasn’t entirely fucking dogshit. Kimiko and Frenchie were just a weird as before, but Ben was used it by now, and he’d even started to pick up some of that sign language shit. Enough to understand what gestures were names and when Kimiko was asking him a basic question about Her or Ryan. How they were doing—really fucking good—and if She would be picking Ben up from work. On office days She usually did, and they were always there for an extra damn hour as She and Kimiko got caught in a conversation, Ben and Frenchie standing awkwardly off to the side.

But Ben had adapted to that as well. Learned how to talk to Frenchie more, enough to ask him for a favor. A favor for Her that Frenchie had said yes to without hesitation, and they’d been working on for about two weeks now.

And everything was really damn good.

If every rogue supe in the country didn’t take a fucking break until New Years, Ben was going to start killing people again.

His whole damn day had been spent in the car. Four hours to New York and back, half the time it had taken to do the actual fucking mission. And the only reason they weren’t in and out of that in twenty minutes was because the bitch had decided to run, and she didn’t have a no-murder rule. And Ben was fucking busy. They had to get their tree today, Ryan had to be picked up from school, and Ben had to talk to Her about what the fuck they were going to do about Butcher’s gift.

He wished She was here. She’d have backed the Ice Lady—or Queen or Countess or Duchess, Ben couldn’t be fucked to remember—into a corner in ten damn minutes, and they wouldn’t have had to use Frenchie’s dogshit flamethrower to sedate the bitch and get her into the van. She wouldn’t have sneered and mocked the SFBI agents when they turned the Ice Lady in, or spilled coffee on their evidence for arrest, dragging out the process another forty minutes. She wouldn’t have missed the exit off the goddamn highway.

Actually, if Ben was being honest about the woman he loved, She probably would have missed the exit. She was amazing at fucking everything, but not driving.

But She was also fucking fast. Ben would’ve been home a damn hour ago if She had gone with them.

He wouldn’t have been ten minutes late to pick up Ryan either.

He hadn’t stop to change when Butcher dropped him back home. He’d grabbed the keys and fucking booked it to the school. Ryan would be okay by himself until Ben got there—and Ben would explain, because the kid wasn’t allowed to think She and Ben would ever fucking forget about him—and She hadn’t reached down the connection to ask why the hell Ben was late, so everything was fucking fine. Butcher and his reminders about getting the Ice Lady paperwork in before Friday could shove it, because anyone could fill out a damn form, and Ben might have been the one who actually caught Ice Lady, but Kimiko had been right goddamn next to him. If it was that fucking critical, she could do it. Ryan was more important.

He didn’t bother to lock the car when he parked it. The time it took to get Ryan wasn’t long enough to hot-wire, and if anyone tried to steal Ben’s property, he’d throw them onto the roof. And Ben’s property was a frost-bitten jacket and gun. Only a dumb fucking pussy would try and jack a car that had a gun.

Picking Ryan up from school was always a fucking trial. It was a nice school—She’d found it, working her perfect fucking ass off to make sure they treated Ryan like any other damn kid—and most of the kids weren’t entirely little shits, but Ben was one more goddamn incident from punching a parent. There were dumb ones, who seemed to think Ryan was some sort of fucking threat to their children, and the fucking pussies who’d been brainwashed by Vought and Homelander, who didn’t like Her. The school had received a petition to ban Her from school events, because She was a murderer and felon—She’d been fucking pardoned, and everyone She’d murdered goddamn deserved it—and She’d spent a handful of days quiet and hollow. Only eating when Ben put food in front of Her and told her to, only moving mechanically—her every gesture and breath over-controlled—and only sleeping when Ben held Her and ran his hands through her hair, muttering soothing words.

“You’re not a murder,” Ben had said Her name, kissing her brow as She clung to his chest and his whole fucking body felt ill. “You’re a good fucking person. Better than any of those pussies-“

“They’ve never,” She’d taken a long, slow breath, and curled her smoking hands in his shirt. “They’ve never killed anyone. Good people aren’t murders-“

“Good is respective.” He’d tugged lightly on Her hair, just enough for Her to look up at him. Pretty, sharp eyes that were glossy and heavy, that made something in Ben’s chest fucking contort and ache. “They’ve never had to kill Homelander, or Sage, or fight their fucking asses off to keep the damn world spinning. You did, and you didn’t ever fucking break.” He’d dropped his brow to Her’s, holding Her soft, tragic gaze. “You’re fucking perfect, and they’re just sad, weak fucking idiots.”

She’d nodded, letting out a strangled, slightly pleading sob, and Ben had understood. He’d just had to stay there, and hold Her until this passed. It always fucking passed, and Ben always stayed by Her side until it did. Until Her body went loose in his arms, and her hands drifted up to hold his face as she offered him a soft—but really fucking real—smile.

“Subjective.” She’d whispered, playing with the hair of his beard. “Good is subjective.” Ben had rolled his eyes, and Her smile had grown. “Smartass.”

She’d hummed, guiding Ben’s lips down to her’s, kissing him until Her heart was at an even pace again, and Ben could breathe again.

I’m your smartass, Pretty Boy.

Damn right you’re mine, he’d pulled Her lower lip between his teeth, smirking at Her breathy moan. I fucking love you, brat.

I love you too. She’d wrapped her arms around his neck, and Ben rolled them over, keeping Her safe and warm and happy under his body.

He’d kissed Her into the mattress until there weren’t any ghosts of horror over her beautiful features, until that presence of Her felt like a halo over his head.

Am I allowed to kill them. He’d said between their heads when they’d separated, his weight dropped carefully over her body as She played with his hair and he rubbed circles on her skin. Just fucking one, Sunshine. Let me kill one.

Maybe one.

Her answer had been quick, and Ben had looked up at Her with a surprised grin. You’ve got a fucking name?

I didn’t say that-

Is it Pigtail’s dad-

No-

Puppy Pack’s mom-

Ben-

Glitter Glasses-

Benjamin. She’d whacked his chest, giving him a stern glare that didn’t even make him flinch, because that was Her glare when she wasn’t really mad at Ben, but was just being a too kind, too perfect miracle of a woman. Learn the children’s names.

He’d given Her a flat look. I’ll learn their dumbfuck names when they stop acting like Ryan’s got the fucking plague. Who is it.

You’re not allowed to say anything. Or kill anyone.

Ben had nodded, watching Her carefully as she took in a long breath, burying Her face as she answered.

You know the girl who always wears the leopard-print boots-

Yeah. Cat Boots.

Georgia, Ben. Her name is Georgia.

I don’t give a fuck what her name is. He’d frowned, scanning over her pretty, nervous pout. It’s her mom. Fake Face.

She’d flushed slightly. Maybe.

In the moment, Ben had just grunted, flipped them over, and fucked up into Her until she unraveled with bright eyes and needy moans above him. He’d praised Her and kissed Her until she was only happy, then made Her dinner and grumbled from across the table that, if She wanted, he would kill Fake Face.

She’d dismissed him, because she was too fucking good and knew that Ben would carve himself open and crush his body under a million scalpels and boxes of gas before he left Her.

Fake Face should count herself lucky that She was so kind and forgiving and perfect, and even more fucking lucky that Ben loved his wife more than goddamn anything. That Ben wasn’t going to kill anyone, because She’d be sad about it.

But Ben still really fucking wanted to kill Fake Face. She was a fucking annoyance, looked at Ben like he was some sort of slab of meant, and looked at Her like she was the scum of the goddamn earth, when this lady couldn’t hold a candle to Her. It was like comparing a burnt-out matchstick to the fucking sun, and Ben didn’t understand how anyone—even a jealous, dick-riding plastic bitch—could look at Her and not feel like they were seeing something holy.

Fake Face had introduced herself to Her and Ben the first time they’d picked up Ryan. There had been quick handshakes, sickly sweet words from Fake Face, and grunts from Ben as he’d pretended to listen, mostly frowning down at Her. She’d been clinging to Ben’s arm as Fake Face asked him if he was really as strong as the stories said, and She’d felt heavy and sick in Ben’s body.

What’s wrong. He’d muttered down the connection, and She’d shaken her head slightly.

She hates me.

Ben had frowned at Fake Face, who was getting dangerously fucking close to touching him. Why the fuck would she hate you.

I don’t know. But touching her, it- She’d swallowed, nails digging into Ben’s arm. It felt someone was pressing a gun right against my brain. And my hands were itchy, and my skin felt wrong, and it was bad, Ben. I didn’t like it.

That had been enough for him. Ben had been happy to hate Fake Face just from how the bitch made his perfect, infinitely amused and kind wife look like She’d been kicked in the stomach. Then there had been more pickups. Pickups where it was just Her, or just Ben, and Fake Face seemed to have two separate personalities. With Her, she was crude and cold, and they’d figured out fast that the lady was, at least, a Vought supporter. Likely a Homelander supporter as well. And Ben had been ready to snap some fucking spines when the flirting had started. Unwelcome praise about how Ben was such a good man, for being there for Ryan—he’d defiantly tried to kill Ryan, only two years ago, but Fake Face seemed to forget about that part—and calling him Soldier Boy before correcting herself to Ben with fake giggle that hurt Ben’s ears, and the questions about how a man like him got mixed up in this whole mess.

It seemed like a pretty fucking simple answer. Ben had fucked up, and he’d repented, and now he was here. Still repenting, still with Ryan, always with Her.

Then Fake Face had called him Benjamin, and—after nearly breaking his jaw and her face—Ben had started being incredibly fucking careful with the timing of how he picked up Ryan, just to avoid this pest of a woman and her skin-crawling advances on him. He knew She did the same thing, and that enough made Ben’s blood feel fucking heated and wired.

He knew his reputation. He knew that he was a sex symbol, that he’d been the fuel of wet dreams for a damn near century. He also knew that, if he could, he’d rip all those fucking fantasies out of people’s minds on principle alone. Ben was fucking Her’s, and you couldn’t pay him with all the gold in the world to look anywhere but Her. It would be pointless anyway, because Ben couldn’t look away from Her if he fucking tried. She was everything beautiful in the universe, and then more. She was a force of goddamn nature, and alive in Ben’s body, and if his eyes were gauged out and his nose was cut off he’d still feel how fucking beautiful she was in a deep, critical part of his body near his heart.

Ben needed to figure out a way to shut Fake Face up for the rest of her fucking life. He wasn’t allowed to kill her, and they were still being careful around the school, so he couldn’t call her a plastic, disrespectful fucking bitch, and those were all his ideas.

He’d ask Her later. She’d have a way that didn’t end in having to explain to Neuman why they’d had to send a cleanup team to a high school.

Right now Ben just needed to stand—rigid and taut—as Fake Face walked up to him with a well-crafted, sickening smile and he waited for Ryan to get the fuck back to the pickup spot.

“Ben!” Fake Face chirped, bouncing to stand right fucking in front of Ben’s path. “I haven’t seen you at pickup all week-“

“My wife,” Ben grunted Her name, because he was going to say it at every damn possible opportunity. “She’s been doing it.”’

“Hm, well, I haven’t seen her-“

Well, She fucking hates you. “She’s fast. Busy.”

Fake Face hummed, tapping a finger to her chin in mock thought. “Ah, I understand. I’m a career woman as well, but my Georgia is always my top priority-“

Ben wasn’t allowed to kill the bitch. His fists were clenched and the glow in his chest would just have to be slightly released to disintegrate Fake Face, but Ben wasn’t allowed to kill her. “Ryan is our top priority.” Ben grunted. “She just doesn’t have time to fucking gossip.”

“I see. Does she have time for you, Ben?”

His vision was red, and he refused to fucking answer. If he answered, he’d spit and roar and draw attention. He didn’t fucking need attention. He needed to take his son home to pick up his wife, then take them both to get a Christmas Tree. A big one, that Ben would put stupid rainbow lights on and She and Ryan would smile at.

Fake Face seemed to realize Ben wasn’t going to respond, and switched the topic with only a slight cough. “Are you getting each other gifts for Christmas? My ex husband and I never did, he said that it was-“

“We are.” Ben snapped. “Her idea.”

It had been Her idea. She’d grabbed his face between her hands and said Benjamin, I love you very much, and if we don’t get each other stupid gifts for Christmas, I’ll kick you in the balls.

“Oh, well, if you need gift ideas-“

Ryan walked out of the school with some of the best timing Ben had ever goddamn seen, and something bright bloomed over Ben’s ribs as Ryan’s face split into a wide smile.

“Ben!” He shouted, closing the remaining space in only a few steps and pulling Ben into a likely bone-breaking hug. “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m fucking here,” Ben muttered, holding Ryan until the kid decided he’d had enough. “Butcher’s just a slow dumbfuck. Let’s go.”

Ryan nodded, starting past Ben to the parking lot, and Ben had almost entirely forgotten about Fake Face until she was grabbing his bicep, and he had to tense his every muscle to halt his instinct to slam her fucking head to the floor.

“What the fuck are you-“

Fake Face was giving him that cheap, twisted smile and those syrupy fucking words, not at all caring how she’d damn near just been killed. “Jewelry.”

Ben scowled, jerking his arm fully from her touch. “Speak fucking clearly-“

“Ladies love jewelry.” Fake Face said, giving Ben a pout that made her look constipated. “I’m sure your wife would love some.” Ben fucking loathes the way she said wife. Like it was a lie and not the only thing he’d ever been sure of. “And I’d love to help you pick some out for her.”

Ben looked Fake Face dead in the eye, not bothering to contain his disgust for her and that awful proposition, and never bothering to hide the sheer fucking pride and love that existed in his body for Her. He hoped She felt it back home, where Ben could sense her, peaceful and content and likely wearing one of Ben’s shirts. Maybe She’d ask Ben what he was doing, and he’d get to hear Her voice. Tell Her how he was defending her honor.

“She doesn’t wear jewelry.” He snapped, his eyes narrowing. “She’d fucking burn it off when I made her cum. Waste of money.”

Fake Face gaped, and Ben didn’t bother to wait for her to speak before he marched after Ryan, clasping him on the shoulder and steering him fully back to the car. He might have just made shit worse. Ben knew there was a possibly that Fake Face would think he’d been flirting, and would keep trying stupid fucking moves. But Ben was pretty sure he’d also made it real fucking clear that he wasn’t planning on fucking anyone but Her ever again. That was the whole point of marrying Her. Making Her and the rest of the world really fucking get that they belonged to each other, and anyone who tried to take them away from each other should be prepared to face the goddamn consequences. Consequences Fake Face better fucking understand, because Ben was weak compared to Her. Everyone was weak compared to Her. If She wanted to, she could burn out the sky.

If She had been present for that conversation, Fake Face might have ended up a husk of a bitch on the pavement. It was why Ben only told Her about this shit when they were in their room, where all She’d do is scowl and pout and glare at him, then start to climb up Ben’s body as She kissed him like she was trying to leave a mark. She knew there wasn’t a damn thing to worry about—Ben made fucking sure of it—but that didn’t stop Her from grinding in his lap or clawing at his chest when he finger fucked Her.

It was just another fucking perfect thing about Her. How She was a terrifyingly brilliant, sharp woman who adored the whole world, and She went slack and blissful under only Ben’s touch. How She wanted him, wanted Ben so fucking much she’d get all fucking angry at the idea of him being looked at.

“You’re a fucking person,” She’d grumbled once, Her face buried in Ben’s chest. “It’s, it’s rude-“

“I’m well fucking aware that I’m a person,” Ben had drawled Her name, tilting her chin up so she could see his teasing smirk. “I think you’re just possessive.”

She’d flushed. “I’m not possessive-“

“You are.” Ben had muttered, and leaned down to ghost one, soft kiss over her lip. “It’s fucking hot.”

It was. It made Ben’s whole body buzz and hum and fucking glow, that he was wanted enough for Her to be possessive. Not his body or name or image, Ben. Ben was fucking loved enough that She lost her damn mind when people acted like he was just a face. And then She’d turn around a call him Pretty Boy, and beg him to fuck Her, and it was so much goddamn better because She was the one doing it.

And Ben fucking loved Her. His whole fucking life was Her and Ryan. His whole damn purpose wasn’t Fake Face, it was finally getting that fucking tree. It was letting Ryan chose the tree—as long as it was a proper, green, massive fucking pine tree, Ben didn’t fucking care what it looked like—and telling Her about Fake Face as She was tucked into his side. It was making fun of that bitch with Her, and setting up the tree when they got home so Ben could get the lights up. It was seeing how beautiful She’d be into the shifting colors, how She’d probably look like some sort of fucking siren or painting when she was cast in shadows under the glow.

It was about finally having something so fucking good, and caring for it, and never goddamn losing it.

“How was school, kid.” Ben asked, dropping behind the wheel as Ryan pulled his buckle on. “Any shit I should know about-“

“No!” Ryan shook his head, his smile never faltering. “It was a really good day, Ben. We’re learning about Feudal Japan, did you know one of the first ever novels was written by a handmaiden?”

“No, I don’t fucking read. But,” Ben pushed on, before Ryan even had a chance to frown. “I damn near didn’t finish school. You’re a hell of a lot fucking smarter than that. Keep talking.”

Ryan didn’t keep talking, and when Ben glances at him he had a soft, nervous expression.

“What-“

Ryan mumbled Her name. “She said not to let you call yourself stupid.”

Ben snorted. “Fucking sounds like her. I’m fine kid-“

“But you’re not stupid!” Ryan protested. “You taught me how to use my powers! And how to grill! And about chemicals! I passed my science test because of that.” Ben could see Ryan’s chest puff slightly in his periphery. “Mr. Kline said he’d never seen someone eat the samples, not need to go to the nurse, and get a hundred percent.”

It was hard for Ben to fight the small grin on his face, and damn near impossible to stop the flash of pride through his body. “Fine. Tell me about the stupid fucking book.”

Ryan seemed satisfied, launching into a history lesson Ben really fucking tried to listen to, but didn’t understand a damn word of. He was practiced at this, though. Between Her and Ryan, Ben was a fucking master at grunting at all the right moments, nodding and shrugging like he got what they were saying, and letting them tire themselves out. Then he’d ask a few questions because it made their faces light up with joy, stash a few of their answers just to prove that really did fucking try. For them, Ben would always fucking try.

And She must have felt it. How Ben’s entire body was focused on Her, on Ryan, because She became colorful and alive around his head as Her perfect, musical voice hummed in his head.

You’re late, Benjamin.

Blame Butcher and Ice Lady.

Ice Lady?

Ice Lady. Ben repeated, frowning into the air. With the fucking ice-

Powers? Ice Lady with the ice powers? Ben could almost see Her pretty, teasing smile, and he rolled his eyes.

Brat.

Cunt. What did Butcher do?

Asshole was pussying around when we turn Ice Lady over. Made me fucking late to get Ryan.

But you-

I got him. Ben glanced over to Ryan, who had settled into his seat with an easy silence, bobbing his head slightly to the radio. He’s good.

Did you-

No incidents. Said today was good.

And-

He told me about his classes. Going well. Ben smirked at the road. Your faith in me is fucking astounding, Sunshine.

She scoffed between their heads. Fuck you, Ben, I’m just worried about him-

He’s fine. And I’d be happy to fuck you, beautiful, but you’re going to have to keep it together until tonight. Think you’ll survive?

You’re such an asshole.

You love me.

I do, you dummy. She sighed in the hum of the engine. Drive faster. I’m bored.

Ben grunted, and pressed the pedal down. He’d still be safe—Ryan was in the car, and Ben’s own need to see Her didn’t outweigh the kid’s safety—but he wanted to get the fuck home. Back to Her.

She was waiting in the driveway when they pulled in. Ben hadn’t even stopped the car when she moved to stand at the driver’s side, hugging herself as She waited.

She looked so fucking happy. Just as beautiful as She’d always been, just as perfect, but fucking happy. Bouncing slightly on Her toes as Ben grunted that Ryan should go put his shit away before they left, smiling at them through the window in such an easy, natural way it made Ben’s chest feel soft. Made him goddamn glow.

He’d barely stepped out of the car when She was on him. Pulling Ben down by his shirt into a long, deep kiss, sighing into his mouth when he picked Her up off the ground, and wrapping Her arms around his neck when they pulled apart.

“Hi,” She whispered, her smile all joy and adoration that made Ben fucking high. “Ready to get a tree?”

“Fucking born it.” Ben nipped at Her nose, carefully setting Her back down on the pavement. “I’m driving.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You can’t stop me-“

Ben gave Her an amused, flat look. “I could very fucking easily stop you, Sunshine.”

Her eyes narrowed as he raised his brows in a silent challenge. Big talk, Pretty Boy-

You know it’s not just talk, beautiful. He winked at Her, holding Her gaze. You’re not fucking driving.

But-

No. Ben kissed Her brow, grinning against her skin. Not a chance in damn hell.

Asshole.

Yep.

She rolled her eyes, leaning into his side and frowning at the front door of their house. Is Ryan okay? I know you said he had a good day-

He’s fine, Ben muttered Her name, shifting her against his chest and wrapping his arms around Her stomach. Fucking bounced out of the school like it was his damn birthday. Saved my ass as well.

Saved your ass? She tilted Her head back, frowning up at him. What-

Fake Face. Ben grunted, and She sighed. I still think you should let me fucking kill the bitch-

No murder, Ben. Not very Christmas spirit of you. She tapped her fingers on his arm, offering him a small smile. And I kind of like that these are our problems now. I can handle someone throwing themselves at you. And I get it.

Ben raised his brows. You get it?

Yeah. She shrugged, dropping Her head back on his shoulder, and Ben could feel all Her love rushing through his body. I mean, you’re very fucking pretty, my love. I’d throw myself at you.

He snorted. No, you fucking wouldn’t.

Yes I would-

Don’t lie, Sunshine. Ben held Her pouting glare with a smirk. You never fucking threw yourself at me, you barely damn liked me.

I liked you, She mumbled between their heads. I love you, Ben-

I love you too, brat, but you were never that pathetically annoying and desperate. You never fucking needed to be, he squeezed his arms around Her, kissing her brow and muttering Her name in the wind. You already have me.

She smiled at him, kissing the underside of his jaw. Very romantic, Benjamin.

He rolled his eyes, dropping his face to Her neck, sucking on that one spot. Shut up.

Even as She molded into him, whimpering slightly as Ben kissed up her neck and behind her ear, Ben knew She was fucking right. It was a damn good thing that the worst shit in their lives right now was Fake Face and Ryan getting changed so damn slowly. Not life or death, no screaming or blood, just Her swaying in Ben’s arms and his whole body feeling fucking alive in her presence. And neither of those worst things would be difficult to deal with. Fake Face was just an annoying bitch, and Ryan was finished in the next five minutes. Ben lived a life where he could kiss his wife until She was slack jawed and glossy eyed, guide her into the passenger’s seat of their care, and get his family out of the driveway before She had a chance to start thinking again. Now the worst problems were that they needed that goddamn tree, and Ben had to ignore Her pretty glare as he drove them to the farm.

You cheated. She grumbled in his head, playing with his hand in Her’s, and Ben smirked.

I don’t have a damn clue what you’re talking about, Sunshine. I’d never fucking cheat, I’m a goddamn gentleman-

Fuck you-

Not with Ryan in the car, darling. Ben’s grin became toothy and wide as She stuck her tongue out at him, his attention turning to Ryan’s pale face in the rearview mirror. “You good back there, kid?”

“Yeah, I’m just, um-“ Ryan swallowed, his heart a little uneven. “I’ve never gotten a Christmas tree before? Do we have to do anything?”

She twisted in Her seat, giving Ryan a sweet smile and soft words. “You don’t have to do anything. If you see one you like, tell us, and we’ll take care of the rest of it.”

Ben squeezed Her thigh as he glanced back at Ryan. “It’s real damn easy, kid. You’ll be fine.”

“What if I, what if I pick the wrong one-“

“It’s a fucking tree.” Ben gave Ryan a firm look through the mirror. “Long as it fits in the house and has branches, it can’t be wrong.”

Ryan nodded slowly. “Mom always got lights for our tree-“

“We got lights, Ryan.”

She blinked at Ben. “We do? When did we-“

“Last week.” He grunted. “When you were off doing your mystery shit.” Which you still haven’t fucking told me about-

And I won’t until it’s relevant, Pretty Boy. “Ryan,” She frowned into the air, tapping Her finger’s over Ben’s hand. “Was that enough for shopping? Because I need to go back to Best Buy for Secret Santa-“

Ben shot Her a look, his brows drawn together. “I thought you finished that shit.”

“No, I got your gift,” She gave him a sweet smile. “This is for-“ She cut herself off, and Ben rolled his eyes. She wasn’t fucking fooling him, she’d been nowhere close to slipping up. “I can’t tell you-“

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine.” He raised Her hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to Her knuckles. “Ryan, tell her about that book shit.”

Ryan’s face lit up, and Ben only got a light whack on his knee as she twisted to listen to Ryan’s repeated lecture about the Japanese lady and her book. She’d, apparently, already fucking known about the book, because of fucking course She did. The rest of the car ride was a conversation Ben tried—and fucking failed—to keep up with, and when they parked the sun had already dropped out of the sky, leaving them some of the last fuckers wandering the farm.

It was better like that. Ryan could wander—Ben keeping a careful ear on his heartbeat—Ben could keep Her tucked safely under his arm as She lit a careful fire in her palm, and none of them had to worry about invasive fucking pussies trying to talk to them. Ryan and Ben could even throw snow at each other without worrying about accidentally murdering someone.

“If I get hit,” She mumbled, her head leaning on Ben’s chest. “I’ll kick your ass, Pretty Boy.”

Ben snorted, another ball of snow already in his fist as he scanned over the tree line, waiting for Ryan’s next strike. “What if fucking Ryan hits you, you’re not going to kick his ass-“

“Is it Ryan’s job to protect me?”

Ben gave Her an amused grin as she blinked at him with fake fucking innocence. “You’ve got a smart fucking mouth, brat-“

She shrugged. “You love it- Ben!”

He’d hauled Her up his chest, swallowing her squeak of surprise with a deep, sloppy kiss and turning his body to take the bullet of Ryan’s snowball.

“Fuck, Ben, I’m sorry-“

She and Ben both pulled back from each other with wide eyes, and Ben grunted as She half-climbed up his body to stare at Ryan.

“Did you just say fuck?”

“Um,” Ryan’s voice was far too damn nervous, his heart rapid, and when Ben adjusted his body to see the kid, he was flushed and gaping. “I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry-“

“I’m not mad, Ry,” She pushed out of Ben’s hold, offering Ryan a reassuming smile. “I just didn’t expect it.”

“Am I,” Ryan looked between Her and Ben with wide eyes. “Am I allowed to swear-“

“Of course you’re fucking allowed to swear,” Ben grunted, pulling Her back under his arm. “Do we look like goddamn hypocrite pussies to you, kid?”

“No?”

“Then swear as much as you fucking want. But,” Ben raised a finger, narrowing his eyes at Ryan. “You have to go find that tree.”

Ryan nodded, and his heart sounding a little more steady, and bounced back into the trees.

When Ben looked back to Her, she was smiling at him. A real, loving, soft smile that made Ben’s whole body pound and riot with Her. Just fucking Her.

What-

You’re a good dad, Ben. Her smile widened, so fucking adoring it might kill him.

It’s not that big a damn deal-

No. She held Ben’s hand over her shoulders, letting him guide them after Ryan. It is. You’re an amazing, handsome, grumpy old dad. Ryan and I are very lucky to have you.

Ben only grunted, because he was fucking lucky to have them. For them to forgive him enough to let him stay, to offer him their trust and love when they were the only two, truly fucking good people in the world. Whatever.

She glared at him, but let it go, and they walked in silence for another few minutes—Ben’s whole existence only Her and Ryan’s heartbeats, just as fucking calm as they should always be—until she tugged on his arm.

I got an early gift for you, by the way.

What-

Butcher. I figured out what you can get him. I’ll show you when we get home.

Ben frowned into the dark. You’re getting his, and mine, and your secret fucker, and shit for Ryan.

Yeah. She shrugged. But those last three were really easy.

He raised his brows. Your secret shit was easy.

She hummed. Yep. My person’s really predictable, and loud about what they like. You just have to be around them for five minutes and you’d have figured it out as well.

It’s MM.

I’m not going to tell-

Annie.

Ben-

Hughie.

She sighed. Ben, I’m not telling you.

Ben narrowed his eyes at Her. It’s fucking Hughie.

I said I’m not telling you, cunt. She whacked his chest lightly. So shut the fuck up and drop it.

It was defiantly fucking Hughie. And Ben would’ve gotten Her to admit it—with enough teasing words, grumbled praise, and long kisses Ben could get Her to tell him fucking anything—but Ryan reappeared with a wide, bright expression.

“I found it!” He bounced on his toes, grinning between Her and Ben. “It’s that way, and it’s really big and spiky.”

She nodded, tilting Her head at the direction Ryan had pointed to. “Ben, if you go with Ryan, I can go find the tree-cutter people-“

Ben scoffed, keeping Her pressed against his side. “Don’t be fucking insane, Sunshine. Let’s go, kid.”

Ryan glanced at Her—Her attention focused on Ben with a heat he could feel over his ribs—but started walking, Ben pulling Her after him.

Ben-

I can get the tree, he muttered Her name, glancing down as he squeezed his hold on Her. We don’t need some pussy with a fucking saw.

Are you-

I’m fucking positive. He kissed the top of her head. Trust me.

She sighed, but nodded, and grew loose and easy in Ben’s body.

And he was right. Ryan presented the tree to them—he’d done a damn good job, and when Ben told him so the kid lit up like the fucking sun—and Ben barely grunted as he ripped it out of the ground.

He started moving without a damn word, supporting it on one shoulder, and smirked at Her open, pretty fucking gape as he twined his free hand into Her’s. Her heart was fluttering in Her chest, her beautiful face slack with need, and Ben felt something in his chest try to pound out of him, into Her.

Don’t fucking drool, Sunshine. He winked at Her, waiting for Ryan to be in his view before he started the walk back, and She just swallowed, Her voice breathless between their heads.

Fuck you-

I will, darling. When we get home I’ll throw you around as much as you fucking want. He shifted his grip on the tree, and felt his dick twitch as She half slumped into his body, her gaze pure fucking love and want. Swear it.

Ben never got to throw Her around. She’d nodded, tugging Ben to walk a little faster, and paid for the tree with fingers tapping on the counter, but they’d barely made it halfway back to the house before She was asleep in the car. It wasn’t even that fucking late, but Ben saw Her body slump in the passenger’s seat—Her presence in his head turning into a natural, eternal and peaceful glow of beauty—and heard Her heartbeat slow a moment later. When he glanced in the rearview mirror, Ryan was knocked the fuck out as well, and he smiled.

He left the tree on the roof when they got home, and got them both to bed. He unbuckled Ryan first—She’d kill Ben if he left Ryan in the cold car alone—and carried him up to his room with careful steps.

“Ryan,” he muttered, setting the kid carefully on the bed. “Ryan, wake the fuck up.”

Ryan’s eyes blinked open, still clouded with sleep. “Ben, wha…” He trailed off with a yawn, and Ben sighed.

“Need to get changed, kid. And brush your teeth.”

“What’s goin’ on-“

“You’re going to bed.” Ben grunted. “But you’re not doing it in fucking ice-covered clothing. Change.”

Ryan nodded slowly, starting to shuffle around the room, and Ben returned to the car.

She was so fucking beautiful. There were glittering drops of melted snow on Her eyelashes, and her mouth was parted as a small amount of drool fell from Her perfect lips. He swiped his thumb over it, She barely stirred, and Ben realized she was knocked the fuck out. And he wouldn’t be waking Her up for the fucking world.

Ben carried Her upstairs—just as he’d done with Ryan—but when he reached their room he set Her down carefully, and stripped her himself. Careful slow movements that didn’t disturb her, changing Her into his shirt—not bothering with underwear—and tucking Her under their covers before going to check on Ryan.

The kid had passed out without turning his lights off or getting under the covers. Ben fixed both of those things, brushed some hair from Ryan’s forehead, and checked on that stupid fucking turtle so Ryan wouldn’t wake up to it dead. It was sleeping under a sun lamp with a damn worry in the world, and had more than enough food to last into the next three damn years. Ryan had been keeping his word, and the thing was growing like a fucking monster. And the kid seemed to damn love it, so Ben gave it a little fucking extra food as a silent, stupid thanks for doing whatever the hell it was doing to make Ryan smile.

She was still asleep when Ben returned. Curled into his side of the bed, Her face pressed into his pillow, and soft, incoherent mumbles falling out of Her mouth until Ben joined Her. She let out a blissful sigh as he pulled Her into his arms and tangled his legs with Hers, her pretty face buried in his chest and that flower shampoo she used like a goddamn drug. Making his body relax, because it was right where it should be, and his brain lull into an easy sleep.

Easy fucking sleep he’d get to wake up from in the morning without screams or tears, with his perfect wife still clinging to his body and all Her love alive inside of him. She’d get that promised fucking when She woke up as well, and he’d make everyone pancakes for breakfast, then drive Ryan to school. He’d grab the tree when he got back, wait for Ryan to get home before he put up the lights, and She’d watch them both with a smile before telling Ben what he should get Butcher.

Then it would be Christmas, and he’d get to give Her his goddamn amazing gift, and She’d kiss him, and everything would be so fucking good.

Ben’s life was really fucking good.

End Note: I don’t care if they don’t sell turtles at Costco in my universe they do.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

If you want to be tagged, just ask! (Separate from main taglist)

Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd @ej13928

@deansbbyx @generalmoonpolice

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user1smvtysturniolo · 1 day ago

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A Christmas with you | Chris Sturniolo

Pairing: shy!Chris x soft!dom!reader

Summary: it's few days before Christmas, and you're cuddling up with your boyfriend Chris after convincing him to watch a rom.com with you. Later on, you find yourselves in more tension in between the air, which brings you guys to...

Trigger Warning: established relationship, p in v, pet names, cuddling, first time sex, swearing, handjob, riding, unprotected sex, ¿lowkey a mommy kink?

Let me know if you wanna be tagged. Xoxo

You were besides Chris, your head resting on his shoulder while you drank your hot cocoa and he drank his while watching a movie. You couldn't help but notice how his heart race was fastening under your head and how he started adjusting himself. Half an hour past by, you both finished your drinks. And you were done playing this game. Even though you guys were in a relationship, it just had started a little ago so you guys never went too further. You both were too nervous and were trying to hide your feelings, rather said his hardening bulge and your hard nipples and how y'all acted around eachother in a situation this intimate, cuddling so together.

"Chris?" Your voice needy, slowly looking up at him with puppy eyes, you also grabbed the remote and stopped the film. "Hmm sweetheart?" He said in a sweet voice as he looked down at you, trying to hide how the fire inside him was igniting at your pleady eyes and needy voice. You didn't say anything else, rather you stood up a little bit and put your knees on the sides of his hips, not sitting on his lap but being right in front of him like that. His hard cock visible for you. One of your hand grabbed his cheek and the other one played with his hair. You slowly got closer and Chris gulped at every movement you made, the tension in the air visible.

"God I need you so fucking bad" you murmured to yourself as you fully sat down and started kissing him. Chris lets out a surprised yet delighted hum against your lips as you settle over him, his hand coming to rest on your waist. The feeling of you so close, all that heat between you, pushes him closer to the edge of reason "Baby...are you sure? I...I don't wanna mess things up..." he manages between kisses, fingers digging into your side playfully as he gives a small buck of his hips, seeking more contact despite his hesitance. "Shhh" you silenced him, your hands moving down to his shirt and lifting it off. As I start kissing and nibbling on his collarbone and neck I say between kisses "if you're not sure, I'm gonna make you be."

With that, I get down and start trailing kisses, nibbles and hickeys until I get just on top of his pants. I look up at him and bite my lip as I put my hand on top of his member and he shut his eyes and groaned in response. I hummed in response as I took down his pants and boxers. His eyes opened as he looked down at me, I could see his cheeks red from blushing and probably shyness, "mhm, you're so big" I murmured making him feel more comfortable, and he groaned in response. Then I first started caressing his thighs and kissing his inner thighs. He was so desperate for more he started gripping my hair tight and whimpered begging for more. "You're doing well, wait baby" I finally stroke him, starting from the tip spreading his pre-cum around his dick. He moaned, it took me by surprise so I playfully tightened my fist around him, jerking him off faster and rougher. "Fffuck, I'm close. I can't" he moaned out. "Wait, I'm not done" I smiled as I removed my hand from his cock earning a loud whimper in disapproval

I started undressing myself, removing my pajama pants and shirt. Leaving me only with Christmas panties lingerie, his eyes not leaving mine he bite his lip hard trying to hold in a moan by just looking at my body "God, you're so hot. I might cum only by looking at you". I blushed at his words looking away, putting a strand of my hair behind my ear. Then I got closer, inches away from his face. My hand grabbed the back of his hair. "I wanted to take a further step today, so I came prepared with this lingerie, Chris. What do you think?" I licked my lips as I waited for his response. "I think that pretty body should fuck me, mommy" I gasped at his words and he grabbed my head and started kissing me rough and passionate.

I finally removed my panties and positioned myself on top of his cock, playfully putting my soaking folds on the tip of his dick, still not going all in. "God, i-if you..." he catched his breath "if you keep, d-doing this I-" before he finished his sentence I got down putting his dick all in me. We both moaned and as I adjusted myself at his length I started riding him, back and forth. His head falls back against the cushions as you finally take him deep, your slick warmth enveloping every inch of him. His hands come to rest on your thighs, fingers digging in again in sensation too intense to keep still

"You feel so good...so perfect..." he manages through clenched teeth. Both of his hands gripped my hips and I grabbed his shoudler. Then, his own hips started to move in time with yours, meeting each movement. I cry out as I increase my pace, setting an unrelenting rhythm, bouncing on his cock, the lewd sounds of sex filling the room nowavatar. Chris is now also breathless, he's a moaning mess, at my mercy. "Fffuck I'm so close. Keep going" he groans out. I felt his next orgasm building already, by his cock twitching in me. And mine was also coming, my walls started clenching tightly around his cock. "Cum with me, Chris" I moaned out as we both let go. Thick cum filling me up and my own cum coating his cock. I collapsed in his chest, trying to come back from my orgasm

Few seconds went by, and Chris spoke up "You're amazing, God" I slowly looked up at him and smiled. "I love being able to have a Christmas themed sex with you" he winked after his sentence. I giggled and I pulled out and put on my lingerie again, and put his own boxers on. I sat on his lap "You know what? I have a game. Let's both wear our underwear while finishing the movie and however tries to go further loses". He grinned and turned me around, putting himself on top of me. "I think I already lost" he bit his lip as he started kissing my neck...

#smut fic #sturniolo smut #smut #smut writing #new writers on tumblr #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #christmas #nick sturniolo #nicholas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #smut fanfiction #fanfic

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lightdancingwords · 2 days ago

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Come Find Me - Part Five

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Series Summary: You are a new arrival to Big Sky, Montana, and found gainful employment with the local insurance department next door to the sheriff’s department. A whole new life with your past haunting you, while Beau is still dealing with the entanglements with his ex-wife. Can either of you succeed in overcoming your ghosts?

Word Count: 4,086

Tags/Warnings: Mentions domestic violence, intimate partner violence, police work, very little fluff, lots of fear, angst, escalation of threat

Song Inspiration: My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift.

A/N: Beau’s POV plays stronger here. If you want to be added to the tag list, please let me know! Yes, the song inspiration was so darned powerful I had to use it as the chapter title.

Divider: credit to @tsunami-of-tears

Chapter Five: My Tears Ricochet

You’d spent quite a few nights at Beau’s trailer since that night he invited you over. It was strictly platonic, with nothing more than a few hugs and sweet cheek caresses. Beau seemed determined to not overstep his boundaries as friend while you found yourself wishing he’d jump that line and then some. You weren’t sure if it was because he was cautious to not rush what was growing between you or if it was, as Doris said, because of his lingering feelings for Carla.

In the end, you decided it didn’t matter. You were okay with how it was progressing, despite the snail’s pace, because you were just so skittish still. Damn Mark. Damn him to hell for eternity.

After that night at Beau’s, you asked Doris for references for a therapist experienced in domestic violence. You needed the help. You knew you needed it. You had to get used to living alone. You had to get used to having an attraction to a man that was actually a good man. Beau was nothing like Mark, yet you kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You regretted voicing that out loud once to Doris… because later that week, not only did one shoe drop, so did the other.

“I just… I keep waiting for him to get mad,” you said to Doris during lunch Tuesday afternoon. “To get fed up with me asking to come over and sleep outside.”

Doris arched a brow at you. “Girl, it’s freezing at night and you’re still sleeping on those chairs… outside?”

Sheepishly, you nodded.

“Why the hell won’t you go inside? I’m sure Beau has a pull out in that blasted trailer of his. Or make him sleep outside while you take the bed?”

“Because…” You trailed off. You honestly didn’t know, not really. Then it hit you: “Because I feel like I’m imposing,” you said, your voice small.

“Girl.” Doris was exasperated. It was obvious. You found yourself shrinking into yourself. She saw it and narrowed her dark eyes at you. “Stop that.”

“I can’t help it—”

She lifted a hand and cut you off. “Yes, you can. You feel the fear, want to shrink into yourself, to avoid—” Doris stopped herself and sucked in a breath. “Mark threw things at you, didn’t he? You tried to stand up for yourself. You tried to take space, your rightful space… and he threw things at you.”

You looked down, the fear clutching at you. “Yes,” you whispered.

“Jesus.” Doris took a breath. “Hon, listen to me. I need you to really listen to me.” Doris placed a gentle hand over yours and squeezed. “You told me, word for word, that Beau told you to impose on him, to cut into his routine, didn’t he?”

You nodded meekly.

“Then cut into his life and his routine. Take that bed. That boy is used to sleeping in worse conditions. Comes with the job,” she said with a wry chuckle.

“But Doris…” You pushed through the hesitation. “I actually like sleeping outside. No, really, I do. It’s so beautiful. So peaceful. I… I’ve been sleeping so well, I’m actually amazed.”

“You feel safe,” Doris murmured, studying you with those keen eyes of hers. “And it’s not just because it’s Beau’s home.” You shook your head. “It’s because all you see is land for miles.” You nodded. “I keep forgetting you’re not like me. That, and I’ve had time to get over my Stan. You’re still so newly freed.”

You gave Doris a rueful smile. “I wish I was brave like you, Doris.”

“You are brave.” Her gaze flickered between your eyes. “Oh… you don’t remember.”

Your brows knitted in puzzlement. “Remember what?”

“Now, I told you I saw the files. That I spoke to your landlady.” You nodded. “You fought back. Even as Mark was… well, you fought back.”

“I did?” You were shocked. You honestly don’t remember much of that moment of when Mark was trying to kill you. The therapist said it was normal, that the brain automatically tried to protect against trauma. It’s why so many trauma survivors will have blank spots in their memories.

“Yes,” Doris said, leaning forward, squeezing your hand. “You tried to tear out his eye. He’s got this lovely scar down his face because you kept trying to claw at his face.”

You sat there, floored. Your heartbeat was so loud in your ears. A memory, a snapshot of a moment, flashed in your mind. You had a vague impression of trying to gouge out his eye. Slowly, you nodded, and pulled your hand free of Doris’s comforting grip to stare at your hands. Long fingers, with short nails. You’d fought back.

You didn’t want to die then. Nor did you want to die now. Mark didn’t rob you of that.

“I’m glad,” you said at last. “That I fought back. And I hope he never forgets that.”

Doris smiled at you, proud of your declaration. “Good. Now for the love of God, go sleep inside Beau’s trailer. I don’t want you getting frostbite, hypothermia, or a stiff back. Those damned chairs are uncomfortable.”

You laughed, embarrassed. “You’ve been?”

“Yes. Beau invited us all out for Christmas last year. I spent all of five minutes on those chairs and told Beau I’m an old woman. I need cushion.”

“And how did he respond?” you asked with a grin.

“He went inside, got this big ol’ pile of blankets and set them down as a temporary cushion, apologizing profusely the whole time. That boy is bony as hell,” she said with a shake of her head. “I don’t know how he finds those chairs comfortable. Or you!”

Despite the shaky moment during lunch, you found you were grateful that Doris talked to you about what happened. You admired her so damned much. She was brave and no-nonsense. As you were finishing up paperwork on a phone call, the front door chimed and entered an unknown woman.

She was tall, or at least her heels gave her height. She had dark brown hair and dark eyes. She was in a lovely suit, clearly tailored for her figure, if your assessment of her appearance was correct. She had money, you could tell.

“Hi there! Welcome to The Big Guy,” you said, immediately getting up to offer her your hand. There was something wildly familiar with her, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Hi there, thank you,” she said, taking your hand with a firm grip.

“How can I help you? Please,” you added, gesturing to the chair across from you.

She took it and sat down. “Well, I was looking to switch insurance carriers for my car. I’m having issues with mine and, well, it’s time.”

You nodded, understanding that. It was a common complaint. “Of course. Oh God, I’m sorry, I’m Y/N,” you added.

“Oh.” There was a tone in her voice that had you looking up.

“Um… is—is something wrong?” you asked, confused and more than a little anxious.

“I’m Carla De Lugo,” she said carefully. “Emily’s mother.”

Your stomach dropped. You had no idea what Emily told her mother. You had no idea what Beau might’ve told her. Not to mention what, if any, gossip she might have heard. Doris and Beau reassured you that domestic violence gossip was a no-go, but that didn’t stop the other kind.

“Emily told me you were working here,” Carla went on. “I hope this isn’t going to create problems.”

Confusion rose. “Why would there be problems?”

Carla took a careful breath. “Because of your interest in my ex-husband.”

Oh boy. “Carla,” you said gently, “Beau hasn’t said anything about you to me.” Which was true. Beau skirted talking about Carla as much as he possibly could. The closest you got to anything negative of her came from Emily, but you weren’t going to say that. “He’s kept that to himself.”

Surprise crossed Carla’s face. You wondered if she had that strong of a negative perception of her ex-husband. “He hasn’t said anything?”

“No.”

“I… oh.”

You narrowed your eyes at her slightly. “Carla… I want you to know, nothing is happening between Beau and I.”

“But you’re interested.”

Were you? God, there were days when you were glad nothing was happening, because relationships just felt like too much to handle. “I… yes, I am,” you decided. The way he called you “darlin’”, the way he looked at you…. “Yes. I am.”

Carla nodded, then smiled faintly. “I’m sorry. I ambushed you in the worst ways. I knew who you were, but you didn’t know who I was. Emily told me about you, after the festival. I guess… I just wanted to know who had my daughter raving so excitedly.”

You blinked, surprised. “Emily was… she was?”

“Yeah. I’m… Y/N, I’m a protective mom. After last year…” Her voice tightened, and something dark passed over her face. “It was a bad year. I almost moved back to Texas with Emily. Beau said if we did, he’d come with us, because he didn’t want to lose Emily.”

“What made you change your mind?”

“Emily did, actually.”

Your brows rose in surprise.

“Yeah.” Carla smiled a bit at your expression. “Same. But she said that it felt like she’d be running away from everything that scared her. And it…” She paused, clearly being careful in how she chose her next words. “It didn’t change one major fact: her father came and he saved her. Beau kept his promise. He said he’d come for her and he did. So she knew she’d be safe no matter where she went… because he’d be there.”

You felt your heart swell. That was exactly how you felt so far with Beau. He cut through your doubts and kept telling you to mess up his life, impose on him. And he never got mad. Not once. Despite waiting for that to happen, he kept surprising you.

“He’s a good man,” you murmured.

“He really is. I knew no matter what happened between us, I knew Beau would be there when we needed him.”

You smiled, that realization blooming in your heart. Maybe it was time to change the dynamic between you and Beau. If you could gather your nerves. “And now that you’ve met me?”

Carla tilted her head slightly and smiled. “I can see why Emily likes you. I’d like to bring you my business, Y/N, and maybe we can be friends too.”

—

Meanwhile, at the sheriff’s department, Beau was agonizing over a report he had to write. He really didn’t want to. That was the one chore of being a sheriff he honestly hated. He wished he could fob it off on Doris, but he knew he couldn’t. He did the work, the interview, it had to be him that did it. But God, if and when they invent a device that allowed it to transcribe what happened in real time or just took his memory and wrote it down, they’d be billionaires. And then he’d never have to do paperwork again.

He groaned, raked his fingers through his hair. The phone rang, a welcomed interruption, and he reached for it. “Sheriff Beau Arlen,” he said without preamble.

He sat up, the news on the other end ominous. “How long ago?” He paused, then scowled. “Why the fuck did you let him loose? Don’t give me that bullshit! You knew! He nearly killed that girl!”

He saw Doris glance over at him at the rising volume and his profanity.

“Sonvabitch! Get your asses in order and do your job,” he snarled into the phone. “I’ll do my part!” And he slammed the phone down on the receiver.

Doris rushed over, closed the door behind her. She had a look of fearful anticipation. “What happened?”

Beau wanted to flip his table, or possibly throw the lamp. He did neither. It was bad enough he just cussed out Billings PD. “Mark broke bail,” he said with a heavy breath. “They checked his apartment. It’s empty.”

“He’s on the run,” Doris said at once.

“Doris…” Beau swallowed hard. “He knows where she is.”

Doris stared at him, stunned. “Beau… you have to tell her.”

“I know, Doris.” He dreaded it. He didn’t want to see the light that was just beginning to sparkle in Y/N’s eyes fade. He didn’t want to see the fear. “I’ll… I’ll tell her tonight.”

“She’s coming over again?”

Beau fought the blush. The way Doris phrased it made it sound like Beau and Y/N were copulating like bunnies, when he hadn’t even kissed Y/N. Though, God, he really, really wanted to. “Yeah.”

Doris nodded. “You better bring her inside this time, boy.”

“Doris!”

“Bring her inside or no more lasagna.”

He rolled his eyes. “That threat will stop workin’ eventually, you know that?”

“Is it working?”

He muttered something under his breath. Doris nodded with a smirk. It was working.

—

Y/N was so glad the day was over. While meeting Carla had been a shock, it turned into a good one. Carla seemed to be a good person, and you hoped you might be able to be friends. Wouldn’t that be a nice dynamic? You dating Beau, Carla being a friendly ex-wife and Emily….

You froze outside your door, keys in hand. The door was open, just a crack. Your heart stopped, then pounded wildly. You felt stuck in place, your brain screaming at you, but your body wouldn’t move. Couldn’t move.

You don’t know how long it took for you to finally move, to reach for your cellphone, as you ran for your car. Just as you locked the door, Beau picked up.

“Hey darlin’—”

“Beau, someone broke into my house,” you said, your voice shaking badly, interrupting him.

There was a moment of silence, then, firmly: “Stay in your car. I’m on my way. I’ll call Jenny Hoyt. She’s closest to you.” You heard the truck door close, the engine start up. “No, change that. Drive to the sheriff’s department. We got cameras there. Jenny’ll meet you there.”

“O-okay.”

“Darlin’,” he said firmly. “You’re safe. You’re gonna stay safe.”

You suddenly remembered what Carla said. That Beau would do everything to keep his family safe. Did that also include you? You wanted so badly to believe that Beau would raise Heaven and Hell to keep you safe.

“Okay,” you said, your voice teary-edged.

“I’m on my way, darlin’,” he said, and hung up.

With tears blurring your vision, you started up the car and drove to the sheriff’s department. Somehow you got there without a car accident. Somehow you got there intact. The moment you pulled into a parking spot and put the car in park, the tears came. You sobbed, gripping the steering wheel, unable to stop shaking.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, weeping, when Jenny gently knocked on your window. You gasped, looked up, and relaxed at the sight of the deputy. You turned the car on long enough to roll down the window.

“Hey, you doing okay?” Jenny asked, her brows knitted in concern.

“You mean besides my home being broken into?” you asked, wiping at the tears.

“Yeah, that was a dumb question. Sorry.” She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the area, before turning her gaze back to you. “Beau called me. He wants me to stay here with you until we get the all clear.”

“O-okay,” you said, hating how your voice couldn’t stop shaking. “God.”

“Hey. There’s no shame in being afraid.” Jenny grabbed your shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You’re not trained like us. You did the right thing by going to the car and calling Beau, okay?”

You stared at Jenny, then absurdly: “Deputy Hoyt—”

“Jenny, please.”

“Jenny.” You actually smiled, just a bit. “Do you… teach self-defense?”

She tilted her head at you. “I can do private lessons if you’re interested.”

“I am,” you said. You decided then and there that you wanted to learn how to defend yourself. Not just some lucky attack. No… you wanted to really learn.

Jenny smiled. “Twice a week. There’s a gym three blocks down from here. They let me use a room on the side if I need it. We’ll use it there. Sound like a plan?”

“It… it does.” You studied her for a long moment. “Jenny… how long did it take you to learn to hit back instead of cringing in fear?”

“Honestly? It takes a lot of practice. Even then, in the heat of it, instincts are hard for us to break. My instincts, when I’m in a fight, is to hit back. To defend myself. Whatever your reactions may be… don’t hate them. They’re a part of you.”

“So… what do you suggest then?” Your instincts had always been to cringe, to make yourself smaller. You were tired of being afraid.

“Lean into it. Use that fear. If your fear is to make yourself smaller, do it—then, when your attacker comes at you, punch up.” Jenny demonstrated on the parking lot. You watched as she made herself smaller, as though cringing against an attacker, and then doing an upper cut.

You took that in, and wondered how Mark would handle that. You decided he wouldn’t expect it, and determined to follow through the next time you ran into him. Or… anyone else.

Jenny’s cellphone rang and she reached for it. “Hoyt.”

You watched her as she walked away for a moment, her voice low and indistinct. A few moments later, she came back. “Beau’s at your place. He needs you to come with me and see if there’s anything missing. You up for it?”

“Yes,” you said firmly.

“Come on. You’re riding with me.”

—

You got to your rental and stared. There were several sheriff vehicles, all unmarked, but with their portable lights on the dashboards. You hadn’t expected that.

“Did Beau call all the deputies within driving distance?”

Jenny shot you a smile. “It sure looks like it, doesn’t it?” She pulled up to curb just as Beau came out of your rental. His expression was grim, dark, and you were terrified of what could bring that man down.

“Deputy,” Beau said with a nod to Jenny. “Ms. Y/N, I need you to come with me.”

He was so distant, formal. You know immediately he had to be on duty and that meant being business first. You took a breath, vowed to not take it personally. You walked alongside him as he took you inside.

“We searched the perimeter, checked windows, the back door,” Beau said, keeping a hand behind your back. “There’s no other sign of forced entry. What I need you to do is tell me if anything looks moved, disturbed, missing. I know you can’t search the whole place, but first impressions is a start.”

You bit your lip, nodded. You looked over the living room, stopped when you came to an end table. “There’s a photo missing.”

Beau’s expression darkened. “What was on the photo?”

“M-me,” you said, thinking. “And my parents. I was… I was 18, just graduated. High school graduation photo.”

He nodded, noting it on a small memo pad. “Keep going, darlin’,” he said, his voice low. You glanced at him as he slipped with the endearment.

It took an hour. Every photo you had up was gone. Even the one of just your cats when you were a child, one you loved dearly. Nothing else was disturbed, nothing else was missing. Beau noted every single one of them down while a forensic team checked for fingerprints, checked the door for damage.

Then it was done.

You sat on the sofa as Beau did a final check around the home. Jenny was the only one of the deputies to stay behind. She stood by the front door, watching both the interior and the exterior.

“You doing all right?” she asked kindly.

“Why would he take the photos?” you asked, the question having been on your mind for hours. “I don’t… I don’t understand.”

“To hurt you, is my guess.” She tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Break you down, piece by piece. Sentimental pieces at a time.”

“God.” You rubbed your face.

“You can’t stay here,” Jenny said firmly.

“You’re right, she can’t,” Beau said, stepping right up to the front door. “Not until we find him.”

Jenny nodded. “What about the Blue Bird outside of town?”

“That works. It’s down the way from my trailer,” Beau said.

You looked at both of them, confused. “The what where?”

“Blue Bird Motel. Ridiculous name I ever heard,” Beau said, glancing at you. “Pack a go bag, darlin’. Tomorrow, I’m goin’ through this whole place, top to bottom, make sure nothin’ is hidin’.”

“Beau,” Jenny said quietly, grabbing his arm. He glanced at her and she tugged at him to go outside. You heard their voice, low, heated, but not the words.

You hesitated, then decided to go just pack a bag. You grabbed a few sets of clothing, underwear, socks, and even a change of shoes. Then you packed your toiletries. You debated what else you’d need for the next few days. Like a book or music.

“Cell charger,” Beau said gently at your bedroom door.

You whipped around, startled.

“Sorry,” he said, stepping inside. He glanced around your room, at the simple setup. “Nice. I dunno why but I always thought your room would be full of flowers.”

“Flowers?” you echoed in surprised.

“Yeah. Flower… what is it… motifs. Paintings. Duvet.” He shook his head. “You deserve flowers, darlin’. Every day.”

You smiled faintly. “Why?”

“You just do,” he murmured, touching your cheek for a brief moment.

You stared at him, heart pounding. Something soft and dark passed in his green eyes, then quickly concealed once more.

“Poppernak’s here,” Jenny said, poking her head into the room.

“What?” you asked, confused.

“He’s takin’ you to your car,” Beau explained. “I’m gonna follow you there. Then you follow me to the Blue Bird.”

Relief flooded you as you realized that Beau was going to be with you at every step of the way. You felt the knot inside you loosen. “Okay.”

—

The Blue Bird was… quaint. That was the most respectful way you could describe it. It was two stories, with the most obnoxious, giant blue bird sign you’d ever seen. You parked next to Beau’s truck and he walked you inside the front lobby to check in.

Everything went smoothly until it was time to pay. Beau stopped you and offered the cashier his card.

“Beau,” you whispered, confused.

“It’s on the Big Sky sheriff department,” he said in explanation.

That made you pause. You hadn’t expected that. “But…”

“I ordered you outta your house, darlin’, at least I could do is cover the motel bill,” he said with a faint smile.

The cashier quirked a brow at him and you fought a blush. Did Beau not realize how that sounded? It took everything you had to just let him pay, take the receipt and handed you the motel key. You followed alongside him in silence as he escorted you to the room.

“You gonna be okay here, darlin’?” he asked as you walked into the simple motel room. It was a queen sized bed flanked by two night stands, a television set on top of a dresser, and a small table with two chairs. It wasn’t much, but it’d do. You only wished it was his trailer, not some strange motel room.

“Not my favorite idea, but… yeah, I’ll be okay,” you said, glancing around with an internal sigh.

“I’ll find him, darlin’,” he said firmly, holding your gaze.

You gave him a shaky nod. “Thank you, Beau.”

He went up to you, cupped your face, and your breath hitched in your throat. For a brief moment, you thought he was going to kiss you, then he leaned down, pressed his lips against your forehead. “Anytime, darlin’,” he whispered. “Get some sleep.”

When he left, you stood there, shaking. After you finally got into gear, changed into your pajamas, brushed your teeth, you decided to check through the peephole. That’s when you did a double-take. Beau was outside, in his truck, fast asleep in the driver side.

Absurdly, you smiled, and despite being in a strange bed and in a strange room, you actually slept.

Tag List: @spxideyver

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