#I watched this and posted this in the middle of the night

[sukunas-wife]

@krispycupcakepost I’ll probably redo your ask because I ended up melancholic instead of 🤍🤍🤍happy happy happy🤍🤍🤍 but I’m going to post this because I worked hard on it and I hope you guys like it 🤍🥺

7367 words : Fluff:Angst:Comfort it’s the work’s honesty, I cried 1-3 times I was in my feelings 🥺

Warning: Forced marriage mention / Implication of forced pregnancy- just a brief mention, not even that maybe? But I’m putting the warning just in case 🤔 Dramatic Mentions of Sukuna having a snack 💀

If there was anything that could transcend Time, Pain, Travesty, and hate. It was love.

It’s love that gives some a will to fight, love that inspires others to create unimaginable things, love that transcends ages and can reshape the entire entity of a person. It’s love that sometimes drives a person to live for someone other than themselves.

The way you had cried those years ago when you married your husband after being sold for your Curse Technique. You wanted to marry for love instead you were forced to marry someone who paid for you and you had never met. It was a surprise how happy you could be with him. He was gentle with you, his eyes always held a soft expression when he looked at you. His hand was firm but gentle on your lower back guiding you and keeping you protected by his side when you would accompany him on his outings. That was until the night came when he brought home a “friend”. A shaman. You did your best to stray away from his guest feeling uneasy with just his presence. It raised your skin and left you with a nauseating sensation. You were quick to feature at the moment you could, asking one of the few helpers in the house to tend to them because you were feeling ill. It felt like your afternoon was stretched over days as you waited for your husband to return. Finally the sky faded into night and their voices stopped abruptly. It was quiet for a bit as you sat up expecting your husband’s steps to approach, instead you heard their voice pick up in a short exchange. Then their steps, but they weren’t retreating, they were coming closer until your husband stood in your door, “Y/n, welcome our guest, you may refer to him as Kenjaku.”

—- —- —- —- —-

It was that night that led you to this moment. Your hands running over your stomach, you had a soft smile.

“How are my boys?” You questioned quietly feeling movement and watching as a kick reshaped your stomach briefly. “There’s not much room left for him?” Another kick, “Just a little longer you two, and it’ll be time for you to come.”

That night one of your children had decided he had enough of the squishing and fighting for space. You couldn’t sleep with all the movement and kicking of your stomach. Even your husband who you still wouldn’t allow to touch you as he pleased or speak to you freely and openly as he once did was concerned when he found you looking distressed. Standing outside in the middle of the night, one hand on your lower back the other pressed against your stomach. You could feel him coming before he was near you, “Something’s wrong, one of them isn’t going to make it, or something is happening.” Your husband walked around attempting to put his hand on your stomach. The moment he did all movement stopped, it was always like that. You assumed it was because your children shared your disdain of your husband placing his hands on your stomach. In order to deter him they would stop moving entirely. That wasn’t the case this time, instead they became aggressive, you saw how under the skin two feet were showing kicking repeatedly, it hurt you more this time than any other. You pushed his hand off and the kicking stopped, you could feel slight movement and it stopped. “Nothing is wrong, they seem just as lively as they did before.” You shook your head, “No, something’s wrong, my boys don’t act like that.” Your husband rolled his eyes “and how would you know that?” “BECAUSE I'M THEIR MOTHER.” You snapped at him, “I'M THE ONE WITH THEM, THEY LIVE IN ME, I KNOW HOW IT FEEL TO HAVE THEM BOTH, I KNOW WHEN THEY'RE CONTENT OR DISTRESSED THERES A REASON THEY DON'T KICK WHEN YOU COME AROUND SO WHY WOULD THEY NOW THEY DON'T MOVE THIS MUCH I KNOW SOMETHINGS WRONG YOU WOULDN'T KNOW BECAUSE YOU HAVE YOUR HEAD SO FAR UP THAT SHAMANS ASS YOU CAN'T THIN OR SEE WHEN SOMETHINGS WRONG.” You turned and did your best to get away from him, your time would be up soon, and you knew if there was anything you would hold onto it would be your boys. But the aching feeling in your gut left you unsure of something else. Would they be okay?

—- —- —- —- —-

In and out, the fading of black from the pain as you finally pushed the nurses off of you. You had to get up, you could lay down for this. You felt like the pain was breaking into your ribs threatening to squeeze your heart and snap your spine the longer they tried to hold you down. Your gasps and struggling cries stopped when you were barely managing to stand on weak legs, “my mother.” You tried to swat away a nurse, “BRING HER.” Your mother was a kind woman who protested against your father selling you off, but being his wife she had no say in his actions. She had arrived to be there with you in your moments but the nurses wouldn’t let her in, even now as you turned, screaming at them and raising your hand against one who had put you through hell the last hours, they finally ran to bring in your mother.

She was the woman in your village who was more experienced in assisting in birth, the reason she really wanted to be by your side. She was there quickly, yelling at the nurses for this and that, looking at your state she knew you’d have to birth another way. She brought you to a tub of warm water where you’d have to stand between a squat and kneel. There is no doubt in her mind that if they would have forced you to lay down any longer at birth you wouldn’t have made it, much less your child.

Yet here you are, holding your child tight to your chest and crying your heart out. You didn’t tell your mother you were supposed to have twins, but the silence that fell over the room where you passed your after birth and there was no second child was unsettling leaving your mom perplexed as to why you were crying so hard. “What wrong y/n,” her voice was cautious as she took your child to help you out of the water that was becoming cold. Clothing yourself haphazardly you brought your freshly bundled child with you and your mother to your private chambers and told her everything.

The way you held your child was obvious, you held no resentment against him for the acts of his father, how could someone so small, fragile and innocent be held accountable for the monstrous actions of a man with no humanity.

His little head of pink hair, little fists and pout. Your tears welling up as you brought him closer to kiss his face. Your mother watched on with a melancholy smile, your heart was torn in two without doubt, you loved your child, but you could never again love his father. The tears in her eyes full of sentiment of how she was happy you could find solace in one person in your life. “You will always have a home with me as long as I live y/n, if you need anything or help you know where you can always find me.” Her soft smile eased your troubles lightly, but you knew your distress would rise when your husband and that shaman would come again.

—- —- —- —- —-

“My sweet boy,” you kissed your son's face repeatedly, “Yes you are my sweet boy.” He cooed up at you as you cradled him in your arms walking through the small garden letting him feel the sun. “Oh you’re so happy today, look at your little red eyes they’re just shining like rubies. My pretty little boy, my heaven, my heart, my love.” He cooed louder as one of his hands grazed your face from how close you held him up, kissing his cheek. His coo’s fell silent and his eyes fell to the side with a displeased look. You turned and saw him, the shaman standing under a tree a distance away. You looked at your son, his eyes lingered longer in that direction before they turned to you. He let out a single “eehhh” before he turned his head away in the opposing direction. You hummed, if he was anything it was expressing, smiling at your son you moved him around resting him against your shoulder and chest making sure the small blankets you wrapped him in didn’t come undone. He squirmed in your hold until you placed a hand on his head reassuring his head on your shoulder and he stilled. A single hand taking a tight hold of your robes, a silent plea, ‘don’t let me go’

You kissed the top of his head, “I’ll never let you go, my little Ryo, as long as I’m alive you will always have a home.”

His little eyes closed, his hold on you never faltered even after you made it into your private Chambers. He didn’t let go even after waking up, your husband and his father walked into your room. You didn’t spare a second glance, your son lazily opened his eyes to look at him, closing his eyes once he saw it was the man you avoided constantly. A face scarce in his life.

“How is he?” Your chest rumbled under him, “He’s perfect, he eats well, sleeps perfectly, doesn’t cry at night, he’s expressive, there’s no doubt he’ll be superior to his father.” Your husband sighed, “Y/n..” you didn’t look, “Husband.” The conversation ended there, even if he said your name in a warning tone you didn’t give a damn, he couldn’t hurt you or your child. The Queen of Binding Vows, if he or the shaman laid a malicious hand on your Child it meant you’d give your life for your child’s assuring he and the shaman would die should either of them act. The second was if either of them were to have part in your death you’d sacrifice your humanity and after life to become a curse over your child to assure even after your passing he would never be alone in this world.

You made your husband and that shaman well aware of the first vow, but not the second one. You wanted them to suffer if they raised a hand against you or your child and you would assure it one way or another.

—- —- —- —- —-

You were content sitting on a stone bench outside under the sun having tea with a friend, a woman with pale skin, brown eyes, her hair was white. She was kind to you the day you met her, going out on your own to buy clothes for Ryomen. He was growing fast, you turned your head and she followed your stare, your pink haired brat was smiling maliciously while cornering an emperor's butterfly. You smiled seeing his eye light up when he managed to cage it between his hands quickly tucking it away into a clear jar he had been running around with. There’s no telling what else he had thrown into that jar. He was six, you would know soon if he had a cursed technique. You turned back to your friend with a smile, “Your child is due any day now isn't it?” She smiled, placing a hand on her stomach, “It is, Uraume seems like a suitable name. My husband is sure that girl or boy it’ll take after him in hair. He persists that even if we both have white hair there's no doubt it’ll manage to take the red patch of hair he has.” You smiled, “The same with my little Ryo, pulled everything from his father’s side and I’m the one who had to carry him around.” She laughed as Ryomen came running up to you standing in front of your legs before he laid his upper body and head on your lap. His arms were spread out over both sides of your legs and you smiled down at him, your hands scratching lightly at his scalp brushing his hair back and out of his sweaty face. He huffed, closing his eyes, letting you scratch at his head, “You're going to meet your little friend Uraume soon, Ryo.” He opened an eye to look up at you with a slight pout, “but you said I was the baby.” You smiled leaning over to pull him up to sit in your lap, “I said you were my baby and you always will be” kissing the side of his face he closed his eyes with a small laugh, “Your Auntie here is having her baby.” He leaned back against your chest looking at her with a faint smile, she was always smiling at him when he would look at her. “What are you gonna call it?” He kicked his feet looking down at his Yukata that was dirty from running around. “Uraume, it’s perfect for the season.” Your friend's voice was soft as she spoke looking at your little blessing, the same child known to be called the cursed child, the fallen one. There was a wave of grief in her heart, everyone knew the story of your child, how he ate his twin brother in the womb, how he’s the offspring mix of a man and curses dna planted into your womb. That shameless shaman did nothing to keep any of it concealed.

“Oh…” You let Ryomen go as he squirmed in your hold, “I wanna get something.” He landed on the ground with a thud and started to run off to where he was before, you watched him, heart squeezing at the smile on his face, he looked happy, he was happy. “How’s your husband, I know it’s a difficult situation…” you nodded at your friend’s question before answering “I told him if he wanted a heir he wanted to bond with to find another wife because I would never let him touch me or Ryomen, I also expressed that if he brought another woman into this house he would be paying for me to live in another location with Ryo. He’s so young he understands, since the womb it’s like he detested his father's presence. As a baby he’d open his eyes to look at him and close them once he saw who he was. He’s never called for him or asked about him. Even the few times I ask if he wants to go with his father he’ll hold onto me tight and refuse to let go. I’d say it’s obvious how he feels about him. As for my husband, aside from coming home from work all he does is sit and drink in the foyer. He never drinks himself under, but he’s not drinking just to enjoy it either. Everyday I beg that it’s his conscience weighing down on him heavier with every year that passes. His family lineage won’t end here I know that much.”

She nodded, patting her stomach, it thrummed under her hand, “I see.”

“I GOT YOU A BUG” Ryomen came running back with the lidded glass jar, Inside was the monarch butterfly and a cocoon on a stick. You took the jar from him and set it on the table, “It’s beautiful Ryo, I Love it.” He stood there proud, his chest puffed out. “Come sit down, you look like you could use a sweet.” He perked up more with a smile rushing to climb onto the bench next to you peeking over the table to see what he could eat.

—- —- —- —- —-

It wasn’t long until Ryomen's 7th birthday, you were excited, even thoughtful, of maybe, possibly letting your husband congratulate Ryomen if he had a technique. Said child was currently curled up to your chest sleeping, holding onto a little tiger plush you had given him for his last birthday. That was until he started whining in his sleep as shuffling around. Thinking it was a nightmare you sat up pulling him into your lap coddling him and pulling his robes open for the cool night air to hit his burning skin. He pressed his head against your neck and you could feel the hot tears as he let out a small cry squirming and curling in on himself. You rubbed your hand up and down his back, “Ryo, are you okay? Ryo,” you kept calling his name quietly as he cried, doing your best to cradle him and rock him. He cried squirming more and it wasn’t until you heard the horrid sounds of bones cracking and he let out louder cries against your neck his little hands letting his tiger fall as his small nails dug into your skin and robe. You held him tighter in panic standing up and trying to get an idea of what you should do, he threw himself back in your arms, back arching and you could see mounds forming under his arms on the sides of his ribs. “That damn curse hurting my son long after.” You rushed around your room calling for a servant ordering an ice bath as you wrapped him in a thin sheet rushing to the bathroom. He cried louder against you and you looked at him, dark marks forming over his skin, and you watched pained as the skin on his sides started to stretch. Your heart and brain were begging one another to make sense of the situation, an ice bath to numb the pain, but you didn’t want to let him go, you couldn’t even if you wanted to with the way he was holding on to you. You stood there doing your best to comfort him in his screams of agony to the point he bit into your shoulder from trying to not scream and resist the pain. The servant tried to take him from you, you told her no and sat both yourself and Ryomen in the cold water. He laid against your chest crying and screaming, as you swaddled his arms in the thin sheet to keep him from thrashing around. You sank down to hold both of you to neck level, your bones were shivering as his cries quieted down to whimpers, his tears were still hot against your skin and he could only gasp and cry out silently. One arm wrapped around him to hold him steady, the other on the back of his head to keep his head steady, you kissed his head and he’d cry. You had to close your eyes when his back arched one last time and red seeped through the thin sheet into the water, you leaned your head back letting out a silent breath as you stared up at the wooden ceiling. “Please,” your voice cracked and your own tears started to fall, your nose starting to become stuffy as you cried in silent distress, “Please don’t take him from me.” You held your breath when he stilled against you, his head knocking against your collar bone, you closed your eyes preparing for the worst, only to see tears in his eyes. Newly formed slits under his eyes, opened revealing a second set of red iris. Black marks on his face started to solidify creating intricate design. You slowly started to get up, being careful not to shake your son around as you started your walk to his room to get him into dried clothes.

It was there when you slowly started to unwrap the linen you saw the new set of arms that were wrapped around his body. You could see clearly where the skin had torn and healed on its own. Your hands grazed his skin carefully and the black marks that were permanently part of his skin. He was born a cursed child, but over everything he was your child and you would love him endlessly. You smiled and leaned over kissing his forehead as his eyes opened, he looked tired as he looked up at you with glossy eyes. A hand reaching up for you. You took his smaller hand in yours squeezing it, “I’m just going to get you new clothes, I won’t leave you okay.” He nodded, his hand slipping from yours. His head fell to the side and he laid there staring off at whatever was in his room, “mommy..” you turned to look back at him over your shoulder. He was just laying there, he wasn’t looking at you, “I love you.” Your worry softened, “I love you Ryo.”

—- —- —- —- —-

“Aw you’re the cutest little thing.” You cooed at your son, he was leaning away from your kisses as you squeezed him and smothered him in love, “stoppp your going to mess up my hair” he pouted running his hands through his hair he second set of arms in fists resting against his hips in such a manner.

You hummed, turning your back to him and crossing your arms , “Fine then, when you look for me I won’t be there when you need me.” He scoffed, eyes falling the edge of his eyes in a bored expression as he tilted his head. “I’m not a baby to fall for your tricks mom.” He turned to look at you to see you had already started to walk away, he pouted and ran after grumbling some as he pulled your arm free wrapping it over his shoulders, “You’re such a dramatic woman.” You hummed not looking at him, he stared up at you as you both kept walking, “I have the feeling that’s the only thing you pulled from me.” Flicking your head to the side you didn’t look at him as he leaned into your side walking with you to who knows where. “Where’s your husband?” Your eyes scanned over the house, “I’m not sure and I’m not interested either.” He hummed with a smile until you both made it outside. The land was covered in snow, tree blossoms vibrant against the pale snow. “Your birthday is coming soon, how should we celebrate?” He slipped from under your arm wandering off into the snow, it crunched under his steps as he walked around to a blossomed tree, you watched, his face was pensive as he acted on muscle memory snapping a tree branch and bringing it back to you. He laid it on the table where you would usually sit with tea and talk to him about whatever he asked. Advice on his technique explaining your own abilities and hoping to help him understand. He walked back, branch in hand, before he stood in front of you, at fifteen he was at your height, you knew he’d be much taller once he fully matured. “I want to go to that place that sells the meat by the plate.” You hummed, “We can do that.” He had a faint smile with slightly upturned eyebrows, he offered you a single blossom and you took it before looking at him and placing it in his hair. He huffed with a pout not resisting your strange displays of affection before you pulled him into a hug kissing his forehead on the mark permanently etched into his skin “My baby.” He smiled as he hugged you back. Closing his eyes he could see the days where he was small and he laid in your chest under the sun.

He remembered clearly as a baby laid in your arms under the sun. The words you’d say, the look on your face, he remembered you saying with you he would always have a home. The warmth of the sun was almost comparable to the warmth of your love. He opened his eyes and it felt like time had passed so fast, his heart ached, fifteen years with you, and it was evident time did not discriminate. He held your tighter tears forming in his eyes, you held him tighter, if there was anything you had learned, it was that you wouldn’t let him go from a hug unless he let go first. It was these moments that made your heart tender. His moments of vulnerability that he would never show. You made sure to hold on extra tight, wiping away his tears and snot, letting him have his time to know everything will be alright. “Promise me you won’t ever leave me alone.” His voice was a broken whisper. He didn’t know it, but at that moment he would be cursing you unintentionally. Your hand on the back of his head, the other rubbing up and down his back. “Ryo,” your voice was soft.

—- —- —- —- —-

You sat alone on that hilltop you had always admired, leaned back and over on a table. One leg crossed over the other as your sighed eyes closed. The sun’s heat bearing down on you as you sipped from your tea. The wind whirled the trees around you, leaves rustling with the symphony or birds. You smiled to yourself, it felt like you were at peace once again. That was until you heard the heavy steps of your son approaching, you sighed placing your tea cup down and turning to him. He wasn’t exactly your little boy anymore. But in your eyes that cheesy smile and small heheh never failed to remind you he was your baby. Before you could speak he sat himself down by the legs of your chair, head leaning back in your lap the same way from when he was ten. The smile reached his eyes when he’d smile sheepishly. There you were brushing his hair back with your fingers, “How’s my baby boy been?” He’d look ahead at the sky or the tree line and ramble on about the day and its events, possible crimes he had committed, or how he was pushing the limit of his technique attempting to find a way to push his domain beyond limits, for it to become limitless.

You knew one day he had accomplished his goal when he had taken on another form. His face changed to make the right side of his face more prominent with a peculiar plate on it, the eyes becoming more prominent. The marking on his body changed also. There was no denying he had doubled in mass, your baby wasn’t a baby, he hadn’t been for a long time.

Still, even when you had heard him referred to as the fallen one. You looked past it all, you knew he was created and born to commit unspeakable acts. But your love for your child was unconditional. Especially when he would come home happy to see you with that boyish grin he had grown up with. You got to see the humanity in him, his expressive side and how he cared for you the older you got. You were his mother, who he loved dearly. The one who raised him, nurtured him, held him in the dark night when night mares would wake him in tears. The one to pick him when he’d fall, wipe his tears away when they began to fall. Brush his hair back and out of the way of his eyes. The one to rub his back and stay up in the night when he’d become sick. You were his mother and you cared for him even after everything his father had done to you, you cared for him and loved him. He saw it fit that he would return that love and care as long as the days stretched.

“Ryomen,” you called him over standing up from your chair with a stretch. He walked over to you from where he was judging Uraume’s cooking. “Let me show you something you might find useful later in life.” You had piqued his interest, “What is it?” You smiled at him, “I’m sure you’ve heard of it but it’ll be better if I explain to you about binding vows.”

—- —- —- —- —-

It was well into your years, you had aged with grace. Your hair had grown long, but you had grown tired of keeping it for all this time. Sukuna had seen the melancholy expression you wore. When he asked why you seemed so sad you expressed how you would need to cut your hair because you felt like you couldn’t keep up with it.

It was then every morning with his four arms, he would use his lightest touch to tend to your hair, brushing it back in the same way you once brushed his. At night he would braid your hair to keep it from tangling and becoming a mess in your way as you slept.

When you expressed your disliking for certain food that caused you to bloat and your stomach to ache, he would have Uraume assure he wouldn’t prepare it again. Finding a substitute that would be gentle on your stomach.

Of Course when winter came and you’d persist he walked on his own in the snow despite your love of the blossoms in the snow he became concerned. He held a hand to you, you gave him a sympathetic look that he would’ve taken as rejection if you hadn’t stepped down the stairs to walk beside him.

His sad eyes followed you as you talked about the blossoms, “Look at that, I suppose it’s time we retire that tree, it seems it won’t blossom again this spring.” You stopped under a tree that was bare, its bark slowly peeling away. You reached a hand up touching one of its branches, it snapped and crumbled under your hand. Your smile was melancholic in your son's eyes. M He knew the day would come when he would have to part ways with you. In his desperation one night he acted in a way even Uraume had advised him against.

He went to visit the Shaman.

—- —- —- —- —-

The night was long as you laid awake with an unsure feeling. The night was unbearable in its heat for it being the cold season. You sat up aggravated, shaking all the blankets off of you. Getting up and moving to a chair in your room you sat there fanning yourself with an embroidered Fan Ryomen had brought you one day. You were restless the entire night, unable to sleep until sunrise when you had left your room coming across Uraume who looked solem. They let you know that Ryomen had left late last night and they weren’t sure where he was going but he advised him to stay with you. That being so you decided you’d like a day to the market, Uraume accompanied you speaking idly with you as you both looked around. “Do you know where he went, Uraume?” Uraume sighed and bowed his head, “I’m not actually sure where Lord Sukuna went. I just knew, when he told me to stay, it wouldn't be for the best whatever he could be doing.”

Uraume was right, after being out all day and returning home you found your son outside in the snow. You watched as the tree’s branches that were crumbling were cut away by his technique. He turned to you holding out a branch that seemed to be blooming with life and pink magnolias. “It will bloom again, all it needs is a little help.” It was a strange sight seeing your big four armed two faced baby boy kneeling by a tree wrapping it with care where he had inserted new branches to give it life. You smiled walking closer, placing your hand on his back, “It will look beautiful Ryo, but it won’t be the same as before.” Rubbing circles on his back he hummed, tying off the last bit of fabric, “Its roots will always be the same no matter how much time passes it knows where it comes from. But, with time everything you see will change from what it once was to something new and different from what it once was.”

His stare hardened on the tree, “You’re not talking about the tree…” his voice had a melancholic waver to it. Your hand rested on his shoulder giving it a squeeze. “If I could help you… would you let me…?” You watched the side of his face, his eyes flickering to be downcast. You stood there in silence, he knew the answer. When he threw away his humanity to become something more, you had become distraught over him. Fretting and worrying to the point that he almost regrets his decision. But now, he didn’t regret throwing away his humanity because of your worry. He regrets it knowing now you’ll leave him alone one day, with no home, and no love. He was your boy, and you loved him, but you knew the time would come when he would be alone in this world to make his own way entirely.

That night when you sat outside on that cold stone bench under the scarce blossoms, you looked up at the stars. The tears in your eyes threatened to fall as you smiled. The cold air biting at your skin made your complexion soft. Uraume was wary of serving you the tea Sukuna had given to be prepared. Yet there stood Uraume placing the cup in front of you with a solemn look. “Is something wrong, Uraume?” Uraume hummed, setting down a few extra things, “I’m not sure entirely.” You motioned for them to sit, they sat. Uraume brought a cup for themself. They wanted to know what was so special about it.

—- —- —- —- —-

Time had passed, you noticed the improvements in your being even as your age progressed. It had you questioning why or more specifically what Sukuna had done. Making your way to the small ball age at the base of the mountain was a mistake. It was then you heard the words being said about your son. Words you knew to be true, you kept to your business looking to see if you could catch sight of him anywhere. Nowhere. You continued to tend to your own business until you ran into someone familiar, Uraume’s mother. She wasn’t the woman you knew before, instead she was the hallowed remains of who she once was. She was hanging by a post, more dead than alive. The sign stated, “All those proven to be an accomplice or in support of Ryomen Sukuna will be tied to the post and left for death to consume them.” The fear had your heart racing as you looked on, her eyes were dead and grey, her head moved slightly in its position, as if she were nodding off between death and life.

“It’s a shame there are humans supporting the curse that’s written to plague and end humanity.” You looked at the man beside you, he was staring at the scene. “The rumour is his mother is still alive and she’s just as ugly a character as he is.”

You wanted to say something but it felt like the words wouldn’t leave you. You sighed looking down causing the man to look at you in interest with a smile.

—- —- —- —- —-

Sukuna was entering the town, shaman and Uraume in tow. He had been communicating with the Shaman about certain things and how to accomplish certain actions.

It was odd when they arrived and the city was quiet. Curiosity had piqued both the Shaman and Sukuna’s interest. In silence they ventured further, until they heard the commotion. “KILL HER SHE DESERVES TO DIE!” An older woman’s voice. “HANG HER LIKE THE LAST WOMAN SHE DESERVES TO SUFFER THE WAY WE HAVE.” “YOU'LL BURN IN HELL FOR THE HELL YOU'VE BROUGHT ON THIS EARTH.” The trio stopped seeing who it was.

You were strung up on a post, arms tied behind you around that post. Your feet kicking to hold your weight up, the blood that was pouring out of your mouth matching the red, purple and dark marks littered on your skin where your robes had been torn, your laugh was as sick as the malicious smile on your face, “All of you,” your back arched as you forced yourself to breathe, “Remember this face,” in arching your back your head tilted to the side as you sputtered out blood, “Because I’ll curse every single one of you for generations and I’ll make you all suffer.” Your feet slipping against the post your weight dropped pulling at the flesh of your shoulders. You were bound to die soon, you wouldn’t suffer like Uraume’s mother who laid on the floor finally dead after they cut her down.

Your head dropped, feeling a stab between your shoulders.

Sukuna could see the brief flicker of sadness in your eyes, you didn't lift your head but he could see the tears slowly started to run. Sukuna could kill them all… he could.. kill them.. all

He was there, in front of you covered in blood. It happened so fast, he was looking up at you, you smiled at him, your eyes softened but the tears didn’t stop. “Ryomen.” Your voice was cheerful despite being near death, infront you wasn’t the 2 faced 4 armed man the world knew as a monster.

In Front of you was your 12 yo boy who was crying reaching up to you for you to hold him and wipe away his tears after some adventure of his went wrong.

Only this time you couldn’t wipe away the tears welling up in his eyes, “…mama…” His voice was just as vulnerable and small as the day he first called out for you. His arms coming up to hold you as he freed you, “You can’t leave me.” You stood there on weak legs, you were tired. He was knelt in front of you, guiding his head to your chest he laid there, his tears falling silently, you placed one of your hands on his head, the other gently rubbing his back, “My little boy is all grown up,” you kissed the top of his head hugging him the best you could, “Remember what I told you, the things you see will change, but your roots will always be the same.” He was trembling in your hold, “aw, my little Ryo.” Resting your head on his as you fell against him to your own knees, “I love you my sweet boy, but it’s time for you to go on your own now.” Your tears hadn’t stopped falling, Ryomen’s tears began to mimic your own. “You can’t leave me…” His voice was soft but it wouldn’t stall your death.

There you fell against him, lifeless eyes with a melancholic smile. It was then that Uraume and Kenjaku approached. Uraume carefully pulled your body from his hands, they would give you a proper burial. Sukuna stood, Kenjaku was amused by the entire situation, “You should alert your father. I'm sure he deserves to know his wife has passed. But now that it’s settled and there’s nothing left to detain you, I’m sure you’ll agree to my plan now won’t you?”

—- —- —- —- —-

500 years had passed, Sukuna everyday had grown to live for himself more and more. Every spring he’d see that tree blossom, and think of your burial under it. You never told him you’d be with him forever, but he begged you to stay and you never did.

He was living in his tyranny, he was unstoppable. Today has been 513 years since you passed, your death was no longer as tragic as it was five centuries ago, but on occasion his thoughts would linger on the memories of laying his head on your lap. When he had fought you over not wanting to shower so you dunked him like a cat and he screamed like you were murdering him. He remembered the night his body had changed, and you held him tight, all that night not once had he seen his father. He remembers when you would make him mad and you’d ask him for a kiss he’d deny it with an angry pout only to be pulled into your hug for you to kiss him all over. He remembered laughing in your hold, how ok his birthdays you’d do anything to make sure he was happy. From taking him to that place that would feed him all he could eat, to letting him choose the colours of his own Yukata. He remembers when you would pick him up throwing him into the air and he’d smile feeling like he would always be this happy. Even when his blood thirst first began he remembered how you would scold him for coming home bruised or wounded, yelling at him and trying to teach him reverse curse technique. He remembers the day you taught him about binding vows, and how he should never trust anyone to make a vow unless he knows the true intentions of that person. You taught him to look for the fine details and loopholes in every technique recorded you could find. He remembered holding your hand, when he was small, and it felt like you would always be there to guide him, to hold his hand and smile at him with those soft eyes, calling him name back home when he would stray too far.

His melancholic attitude was inevitable, and sadly it was the day his vulnerability would be taken advantage of. He was ambushed by sorcerers, and it was as if it triggered something. An Onryo stood behind him, double his size, her eyes were wrapped in bandages, her hair was long and untamed, her nails was grown out into claws and her white yukata was closed tight, taking the sword form her mouth her back arched and she let out a terrifying scream, it was as if she multiple voices. “DONT TOUCH MY SON.” It was the swing of her sword that cut down half of the sorcerers standing and cutting through the earth's surface itself. Even then they held up a good battle, but his fate was sealed.

There was a brief moment in his innate domain where he came face to face with his mother. She smiled at him, “Look at my little Tyrant, all grown up.” He looked at you in disbelief before you remembered something, “SO HELP ME RYOMEN SUKUNA IF YOU LET THAT WOMAN WHO WAS RUNNING AROUND AND HOLDING ON TO YOU NAKED I WILL COME BACK AND TAKE YOU OUT OF THIS WORLD MYSELF HAVE SOME SELF RESPECT I SHOULD GIVE YOU A GOOD ONE RIGHT NOW FOR NOT PUSHING HER OFF OF YOU QU-“ You were cut off as he hugged you. He was no longer in his true form, rather changed to be smaller with two arms and a normal face. You sighed with a smile, placing a hand on his head, never failing to rub his back in comfort, “I missed you too you big man child.” He scoffed but didn’t let go, “You didn’t leave me.” You laughed, “It’s funny now, but how could I when you basically cursed me with your crying and don’t leave me mama.” You mocked him and he rolled his eyes, but he didn’t let go.

“Well it might be a while before I see you again, so let me lend to you my special abilities. A way to create an open domain, a move known as the world slash, and my cursed energy. I’ll be here when you need me.” You kissed the top of his head one final time and he nodded. It was quiet when he mumbled the words “I love you mama…” you smiled at him and you could feel his conscious fading with the colours of this world, “I love you too my little Ryo.”

-

Tags: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @bofadeezs @shytastemakerthing @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille @domainofmarie

[skywalker1dream]

Title: Thrilling ride

note: sorry i was gonna post it sooner and it should have been longer too, but i had the most stressful day today....hope you like it, hope you are having good day or night, drink water and eat healthy..byee

Summary: It's the height of Max Verstappen's "Mad Max" era, where he is known for his fierce driving and even fiercer temperament. You, a popular figure in the F1 paddock, find yourself caught in the middle of Max's jealousy as he watches you chat with other drivers. Tension runs high, leading to a heated confrontation and an intense make-out session that neither of you will forget.

Warnings: Jealousy, heated arguments, thats all?

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You moved through the paddock, exchanging friendly banter with the drivers. Your laughter mingled with the hum of activity as you chatted with Charles Leclerc, your old friend from childhood.

"Good luck today, Charles," you said with a bright smile.

"Thanks, belle. I'll need it with Max on the prowl," Charles replied, glancing over your shoulder.

You turned to see Max Verstappen, his intense gaze locked on you. His jaw was set, and a storm brewed in his piercing blue eyes. Known as "Mad Max" for his aggressive driving style and fiery temperament, he was a force to be reckoned with on and off the track.

You excused yourself from Charles and walked over to Max, who looked like he was barely containing his jealousy.

"Hey," you greeted, trying to keep things light.

"Hey," he replied curtly, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at Charles. "Having fun with Leclerc?"

You sighed, knowing where this was heading. "Max....he's just a friend. We've known each other since we were kids."

Max's eyes flashed with something darker. "Doesn't look like just friends to me."

You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling up. "You're overreacting. It's just a conversation."

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "You know how I feel about you talking to other drivers like that, konijntje."

"Like what, Max? Like a normal human being?"

"Like flirting," he snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

Your heart raced, both from anger and the undeniable attraction between you two. "You're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous, am I?" He took another step, his body almost touching yours. "Maybe I need to remind you who you belong to."

Before you could respond, his lips crashed onto yours with a fervor that took your breath away. The world around you blurred as you melted into the kiss, all the anger and tension dissolving into raw passion.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, as his hands gripped your waist possessively. The kiss deepened, tongues battling for dominance, a mix of heat and need fueling the moment.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Max's eyes were still dark with jealousy, but now they held a glint of satisfaction.

"You drive me crazy, schatje," he murmured against your lips.

"You make me crazy too, Max," you admitted, resting your forehead against his.

He smirked, his possessiveness tempered by a rare softness. "Just remember, you're mine."

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm yours, Max. Always."

As the call for the drivers to their cars echoed through the paddock, Max gave you one last, searing kiss before reluctantly pulling away. You watched him go, your heart pounding, knowing that the fire between you two was far from extinguished.

In the high-stakes world of Formula 1, love was as exhilarating and dangerous as the race itself. And with Max Verstappen, every moment was a thrilling ride.

[creativewritersposts]

fucked up - Nico Hischier

summary; Nico Hischier x reader.

The honest opinion from a person you really like can hurt the most. But what if Nico regrets it?

warning(s); bad language, angst, argument, fluff, maybe grammar errors

author's note; based on a true story. I'm sorry for not posting "happy-clappy fluff imagines" like usually (promise they'll come back soon). I can't write just pure fluff when I'm crying a river.

--------------------------------------------------------------

It's the third day in a row that Nico doesn't want to talk with you. You can't explain why, but your stomach feeling tells you, something is not okay. You tried to distract yourself with work, work and more work. But when you step in your apartment, you're mentally break down. Your overthinking says hello. You grab your phone, trying to call him, just his mailbox.

"What did I do wrong", you mumble to yourself, biting on your lip. It's rainy outside, like how you feel. You're starring at other people out of the window, until your phone vibrates. "hello?", you start the conversation without looking on the screen, who it is. "it's Nico, are you at home?", his voice sounds deep and kinda annoyed, "yes", you smile, happy to hear he's alive. "Ok bye", he hangs up without a second. You stress yourself to cook a nice dinner in an hour until the door bell rings. "hi baby!", you want to wrap your arms around his neck, but he pushes you politely away, "we need to talk, something is bothering me", his brown eyes let you feel confused, he never been so serious. You nod and let him walk in your kitchen. "I cooked dinner for us two", you smile to blow the negative vibes away. "Do you think dinner will change the fact you act exaggerate?!", his tall body turns around because he stands before you. "huh?", you're even more confused. "We're not together and you stress me out", he tolerates no argument whilst speaking. Honestly you're not able to argue. It's like a punch in your face. "what did I do?", you feel so small. Even when he told you this in a respectful way. "you stress me out. You want to text non-stop and you're not my girlfriend, not yet. After last night with five text messages I'm thinking if it's a good idea to ask you for that", Nico grabs your shaky hands,"it's not like I'm not interested anymore", he kisses your forehead. You're just able to nod and accept the fact. What he needs and wants.

"Thank you for telling me this", your fake smile shows sadness. Nico doesn't want to hurt you on purpose. "I'll pack in the pesto for you", with blurry eyes you do that, giving him the lunch box. Nico just stays calm, taking it and when you close the door behind you, he thinks of hoping you understood what he meant.

The next days your chest feels heavy, texting no message, you don't call him, you let him his freedom. You know Nico lost the finals of the world championship, he looked so disappointed and usually you would at least send him something lovely, but your brain tells you; you were clingy. You're the problem. You're a bad Person for bothering someone. You don't enjoy being a clingy girl.

In the middle of night your phone vibrates again, like ten times until you groan, you're not in the shape to talk happy phone calls. "hey, are you ok?", his voice sounds occupied. "Sure", you reply. "You didn't text me once. I'm worried. We lost", he let you know the news. Of course you're not saying that you watched his game. Like he gave you a clear message. You would be clingy you're not his girlfriend and he owes you nothing.

"I'm sorry to hear that", your hands shake again. You don't feel comfortable anymore, more like you have to hide your personality to be not the problem anymore. "I didn't mean that I don't like to talk with you", he coughs. "I really like you anyway as a person who you are", he talks more. "I'm tired, good night", hanging up until he can hear how much you're hurt. Just thoughts hunting you in your head;

what are you doing now?

What is the right way to deal with this?

[stop4death]

now i'm covered in you

note: i need her. badly. also i love patrick and i do not condone cheating its just for the plot and also bc i wanted to reference ivy sorry!

pairing: stanford!tashi duncan x fem!stanford!reader

summary: when you and your best friend, tashi, decide to have a movie night in her dorm room, you can’t seem to pay attention. your boredom turns into unexpected fun when she suggests a game of truth or dare.

warnings: nsfw 18+ (MDNI!), smut, fluff, cheating (again, i love patrick and i do not condone cheating), oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), please lmk if i forgot anything

word count: 1.6k

posted: may 28th 2024

what would he do if he found us out?

Everything about your best friend is perfect to you. Her eyes. Her hair. Her lips. The way her face lights up whenever she sees you. The way her head falls back when you make her laugh just a little too hard at one of your stupid jokes. The only thing you don’t find perfect is the fact that she has a boyfriend. Tashi and Patrick have been going out since they met last summer, now you and Tashi are in the middle of the spring quarter of your first year at Stanford. You like Patrick (and his friend, Art, who coincidentally also goes to Stanford). He’s a good looking guy, and Tashi is happy with him. You just can’t help the soul crushing jealousy that consumes you every time he comes to visit her and you have to watch them be all lovey-dovey at your lunch table. 

“Hello? Are you even watching?” Tashi giggles and you snap back to reality, where you’re sitting on the floor of your best friend's dorm room drinking cheap beer and watching a rom com on your laptop.

“Sorry.” you laugh softly, “I just can’t pay attention to a movie right now.”

It’s a Friday night, and the two of you decided you didn’t feel like going out. You settled on a movie night in Tashi’s dorm, but your mind keeps wandering off. The two of you are already a bit tipsy at this point. Tashi shuts your laptop and looks at you, pursing her lips. 

“Let’s play a game or something.”

“Like what?” you ask, smiling at her.

“I don’t know… truth or dare?”

You laugh at the suggestion, thinking she’s joking.

“What are we in middle school again?”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun. I want you to stop zoning out.” she pokes your side playfully and grins.

“Okay, fine. Truth or dare?” you start off.

“Dare.” 

“Okay… um… I dare you to…” you pause and look around, trying to think of something, “text Patrick right now and tell him you’re pregnant.” You laugh at how stupid it is, but it was the first thing that came to your mind. Tashi rolls her eyes at you and reaches for her cellphone on her nightstand. She types out a message to Patrick and sends it, and turns her phone around to you to prove that she actually did it. You laugh with your hand over your mouth, in disbelief that she actually did it, but Tashi has never been one to chicken out on a dare. She puts her phone down on the floor next to her, then she pushes your shoulder playfully and you pretend to fall backwards.

“I hate you.” she says, but she smiles as she says it. “Truth or dare?” she says it with a hint of vengeance in her voice, so you decide to go with truth for now. 

“Truth.”

“Okay… um… well our first year of college is almost over and you haven’t gone on a date or shown interest in or even hooked up with anyone. Is there anyone you… have a crush on? In one of your classes or something?” she asks with a slight smirk on her face.

“Um… yeah.” you say as your cheeks go red and you look down at your hands. She gives you a knowing smirk, but she doesn’t press any further, knowing it’s her turn now.

“Truth.” she says, not waiting for you to ask her.

“Hmm… have you ever lied to me?” you ask nervously.

“Yes.” she says plainly. You furrow your eyebrows, but you don’t ask any follow ups, thinking you’ll ask her what about the next time she chooses truth. “Truth or dare?”

“Mm.. dare.” you hesitate, but you don’t want her asking who you have a crush on if you were to choose truth.

“I dare you to kiss me.” she says it so casually, and you’re sure you must’ve misheard her. Your mind must be playing tricks on you.

“What?”

“I dare you to kiss me.” she repeats, and your mouth falls open a little bit in shock.

“W-what about Patrick?” you ask hesitantly.

“It’s just a dare, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. He doesn’t have to know.”

She’s so nonchalant about it all, meanwhile you feel like your heart is going to explode out of your chest at any second. You hesitate for a moment, but then you lean closer to her almost instinctively, as if you’ve been possessed. You’ve waited years for this opportunity, and you weren’t going to let the thought of upsetting some boy get in the way of it. You place a hand on her cheek gently, and lean in further, pressing your lips against hers. They’re just as soft and sweet as you’d always imagined they’d be. You expect it to be over within seconds, but Tashi leans in further, placing a hand on the back of your neck and deepening the kiss. You can’t help but think about how wrong this is, but you really don’t care. You push the thoughts away and focus on the fact that you’re kissing your best friend right now. Tashi pushes you back on her floor, your head hitting one of the pillows the two of you had laid out for your movie night, and gets on top of you. You slide your hands down her sides and rest them on her hips as she continues to kiss you. She slides one hand under your t-shirt and squeezes one of your breasts, and you let out a soft moan into her lips. 

“Is this okay?” she asks softly, and you nod. 

“Yes. Yes.” you say through soft gasps. She kisses you again, sucking and biting on your bottom lip. She removes her hand from your shirt and slides it down to the waistband of your shorts. She rubs your hip gently before she slides her hand into your shorts. You moan softly at the feeling of her hand on your clothed heat.

“So wet.” she says quietly between kisses as she traces gentle circles around your clit through your underwear. She moves her hand out of your shorts and your hips buck upwards at the sudden lack of her touch. She smiles as she stops kissing you, and moves down. She pushes your legs apart and looks up at you, her head between your legs. She gently tugs at the waistband of your shorts, and pulls them down along with your underwear. You spread your legs apart further and she smirks at you.

“Look at you… dripping wet for me already. So desperate for my touch. You’ve wanted this for a long time, huh?”

Your breath hitches as you look down at her between your legs. She kisses your inner thigh and your entire body feels like it’s on fire. She continues to place kisses along your inner thigh, moving closer and closer to your heat. You moan as her tongue delves into your folds, lapping at your wetness. 

“Fu- Fuck! Tashi!” you barely manage to choke out through moans as she sucks on your clit. You grip onto the blanket underneath you and arch your back. She moves one of her hands up and teases your entrance with her middle and ring fingers before slipping them into your tight pussy and thrusting them in and out. The combined sensation of her fingers inside you and her mouth on your clit drives you insane, pushing you closer to the edge. You can’t contain the loud moans that escape your lips, probably heard by her entire dorm floor. 

“Tashi, fuck! I’m so close.” you gasp out, gripping the blanket even harder, your knuckles turning white. You look down at her between your legs again, and just the sight of her is enough to send you over the edge. Your best friend has never looked more perfect to you than in this moment, with her face buried in your folds. You moan her name loudly as you reach your climax, your back arching again as you see stars. Tashi lifts her head and slips her fingers out of you and your back relaxes. You just lay there on her floor, trying to catch your breath, and Tashi moves up to lay down next to you. She places a hand on your cheek and turns your head to face her, placing another kiss on your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her mouth. She rests her head on her arm, just looking at you.

“You’re so perfect.” you say softly, and she smiles at you. You just stare at her, admiring her, thinking you must be in a dream you’re going to wake up from at any moment. Your peace is interrupted by the sound of Tashi’s phone ringing. She sits up and picks it up off the floor next to her and you can see the caller ID on the tiny screen reads “Patrick Zweig”. She declines the call, silences her phone, and tosses it up onto her bed, before laying back down next to you. You look at her with a bit of confusion on your face, knowing he must be calling about the text you dared her to send earlier. 

“I’ll call him back later.” she says plainly, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you close. The thoughts of how wrong what the two of you just did was start flooding into your head, thinking about what Patrick would do if he found out what you just did with his girlfriend. These thoughts are immediately pushed away when Tashi kisses your cheek and pulls you even closer. As you lay there in your best friend's arms, the only thoughts that flood your brain now are how lucky you are to have her.

[redrose10]

It took me longer than I wanted, but it’s finally here and I can’t keep editing it and putting this off. This is something I’ve been working on for a few weeks. It’s not exactly how I had planned it in my head, but I guess that’s how it goes. I was going to try something a little different so I do have a spicy bonus chapter that I was going to include as an extra, but I just don’t think I’m good at writing smut so I’m not sure if that will ever get posted. Let me know if you want it though.

Messages and comments appreciated! This is the first time I’ve ever attempted something like this so be kind please.

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

Yoongi black cat hybrid X Female reader

Summary: When your good friend shows up in the middle of the night begging for your help, how can you say no. But what if their request makes you start questioning everything you’ve ever believed in?

Warnings: Physical abuse, sexual abuse, swearing, light smut (nothing too graphic), mention of no consent, mention of death/dying and murder, violence, weapons

Word Count: about 14,800 😯

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

Shuffling to your front entrance you felt a range of emotions like anger at whomever was pounding on your door at 3am in the rain and also fear because someone was pounding on your door at 3am in the rain. Taking a peak through the front window the fear disappeared when you saw one of your best friends, Namjoon. However, that fear was now replaced with worry. Namjoon was not the type to be out at this hour unless he had a good reason and what concerned you most was what he wanted with you right now.

Swinging open the door he greeted you first, clearly in a hurry. He looked nervous.

“Hi Y/N. I’m so sorry to bother you at this hour, but there is nowhere else I can go. Can we please come in?”

“We?”, you asked brows furrowed.

Namjoon stepped aside and you saw the smaller frame that was hidden behind him, the hood of a sweatshirt blocking their face. Trusting that Namjoon wouldn’t bring anyone around that would hurt you, you motioned for them both to come inside and take a seat. You offered some towels to dry off and started the kettle on the stove to get them something warm to drink.

As you finally took a seat across from the two Namjoon cleared his throat, “Y/N I’m sorry again for just barging in like this. I just really need your help. It’s been kind of a rough night.”

You nodded, but remained silent as you waited for more information. The person sitting next to your friend had yet to make a sound or even look at you giving you an uneasy feeling.

Thankfully Namjoon took the hint and continued, “We completed a raid today. Something we’d been working on for a long time now.”

“Ahh there it is.”, you thought to yourself. Namjoon worked for the the Hybrid Protection Agency or HPA. They were like the FBI, but specialized in hybrid affairs. You had heard numerous stories of them raiding businesses and buildings that were being used as fronts for different illegal operations involving hybrids. You turned your attention back to your friend to hopefully find out what he wanted with you.

“Have you ever heard of Lee Yan?”, he asked.

“No I don’t think I have”, you shook your head not failing to notice the other person flinch at the mention of the name.

Namjoon continued, “He also goes by Viper.”

“Ooohhh.”, your heart skipped a beat. Viper was known as one of the most ruthless hybrid traffickers in the game. He didn’t care who he had to hurt or even kill to achieve his goals. He owned 90% of all hybrid operations and was consistently listed as the most wanted criminal in the HPA’s database. You’d heard Namjoon ramble on and on about how much of a scumbag he was.

“Well we’ve been watching him for a while now. We got wind that he was going to be in town tonight to check on one of his hybrid houses.”

Just hearing that name made you cringe. Hybrid Houses were technically legal because they operated under the guise that they were there for hybrids to use when their natural instincts kicked in. Thanks to the increasing costs of using Hybrid Houses more and more owners started opting to pay for suppressants while some of the harsher owners chose to force their hybrids to just push through it without any help at all by locking them away until it passed. So now the houses are still advertised as such, but really they’re mostly being used as coverups

You realized you’d been completely ignoring everything he was saying so you sat up a little straighter trying your best to focus.

“Anyways, we showed up and raided the place. We managed to rescue about sixteen hybrids. We arrested two of Vipers guys, but unfortunately he was able to get away. Most of the hybrids are being taken to local shelters, a few had to be taken to the hospital. But one of them needs some special care which is what brings me to you.”

“I’m sorry what?”, you asked choking on air. Namjoon knew better than anyone that you didn’t exactly agree with owning a hybrid or anything hybrid related. In your views they were people more than animals and should be treated as such, Therefore they shouldn’t need an owner and you hated the way the government basically deemed them property. Hybrids had fewer rights and protections than any other species and you hated it. Namjoon had attended a few Hybrid Rights rally’s with you so he knew your views on this and you were honestly a little angry he was even trying to bring you into this.

Namjoon chuckled, “I guess I should’ve introduced you from the start. This is Yoongi.”, Namjoon spoke gesturing to the person next to him.

Your eyes widened in surprise as the mysterious person slowly pulled down the hood of their sweatshirt. Barely poking out of the top of a mop of black hair were two black fuzzy cat ears. A long fluffy black tail curled out from behind him. With so much going on you hadn’t noticed that your friend’s new friend was a hybrid. The hybrid, or Yoongi as he was called, quickly made eye contact with you before returning his gaze back to the floor. He reached for his tail slowly combing his fingers through the fur. You figure it was probably a way of self soothing.

“Nam-, Namjoon I’m sorry but how am I supposed to help?”

“Right, so Yoongi is or uh was Vipers personal pet.”

The sound of that word made your stomach twist. He was a grown man and shouldn’t be considered anyones “pet” and it infuriated you that people even had thoughts like that.

“When Viper took off he left Yoongi behind probably thinking one of his men would protect him, but one of our guys took him in thinking he was just one of the hybrids from the house instead. We can’t take Yoongi to a shelter. Viper will have his guys scouting every shelter with 100 miles from here. It’s not safe for him to stay with me either since I could possibly have a target on my back. I need him to stay here with you.”

You felt bad for the chuckle that you let out knowing that this probably wasn’t Yoongi’s first choice either, but you just couldn’t stop it.

“Namjoon, I can’t just take in another person. I can barely afford to feed myself let alone someone else. Plus you know how I feel about owning hybrids. It’s wrong. They’re people and shouldn’t be owned like an animal.”

Yoongi felt an odd fluttering in his stomach. No one had ever referred to him as a person before.

“Look Y/N, I’m desperate. I’ll send some money your way to cover the extra food and stuff. And you don’t have to officially adopt him. We just need to keep him safe until we get Viper in custody and then I’ll figure something else out.”

Namjoon reached over and placed a hand on your knee. You knew when he resorted to physical touch that he was serious.

“Please Y/N, he’s been through hell and back and has nowhere else to go. I need someone that he can trust. That I can trust. I can’t let him get back into the hands of someone like Viper.”

You peaked over Namjoon’s shoulders to see Yoongi with his hands folded in his lap. His bangs plastered to his forehead and still damp from the rain. He looked at you for barely a second before looking away, but even in that quick glance you could see the desperation in his eyes. You could only imagine what he had been through. Someone like Viper couldn’t possibly treat his own hybrid well when to him all they were there were play things and money makers.

“Okay.”, you spoke barely above a whisper, but Namjoon still heard you. He smiled before looking back at Yoongi trying to give him a reassuring squeeze that everything was going to work out for the better.

Thankfully the kettle sounded giving you an out of the awkward situation. While in the kitchen preparing the drinks you could hear Namjoon and Yoongi whispering back and forth.

“She doesn’t want me here. I can just go back to my owner. I don’t want to be any more of a burden than I already am.”

“Trust me, she’ll come around. It’s just a lot to take in. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think she’d take good care of you.”

He was right. You would try your hardest to take care of him even if this situation isn’t exactly ideal for you.

After a drink and some pointless small talk you walked Namjoon to the door as he continued to give you instructions, “So don’t take Yoongi out of the house for any reason unless it’s an absolute emergency and call me immediately if you do. I’ll stop by with some clothes and stuff for him in a day or two plus some extra money.”

You nodded in agreement unsure of what else to say at that point. After he left you made sure to use all the locks on your door suddenly feeling a little less safe than normal. Yoongi was still sitting in the same spot on the couch not having touched his tea.

“I can make you something else to drink if you don’t like it. Or maybe something to eat? Are you hungry?”, you asked awkwardly.

“No thank you. I’m okay.”

“Okay… well… I’m gonna go take care of a few things. I’ll be right back.”

He nodded as you scampered up the stairs to your bedroom. After taking a few minutes to calm down and catch your breath you started grabbing whatever you could think he might need.

Digging through your drawers you found a t-shirt and a pair of old sweats that you thought should fit him after making a hole for his tail. Then in your closet you found an extra pillow and some blankets. Your spare bedroom was pretty much being used as storage so Yoongi was going to have to sleep on the couch which you felt terrible about so you decided to start looking online for a bed getting yourself distracted. You weren’t sure exactly how long he was going to be staying, but you figured it would be a couple weeks at least and you didn’t want him sleeping on the couch that whole time. You’d been meaning to finally set up the spare room so this was the kick you needed. You had to use pretty much every cent you had to afford everything, but it was needed.

After getting everything ordered you realized you had been locked away quite a while longer than you’d expected and got very worried about Yoongi. Rushing down the stairs with blankets and pillows in hand you found an empty couch.

“Fuck did he run away already?”, you panicked. Namjoon was going to kill you. Walking into the kitchen to find your phone you spotted a lump of black curled up in the corner. Getting closer you recognized the tail and ears. A wash of relief flooded over you as you bent down and tried to softly wake up the sleeping hybrid.

You tried to be as gentle as possible, but he still startled awake quickly backing into the corner before letting out a small hiss and curling in on himself.

“Hey it’s just me. It’s Y/N. I’m sorry for scaring you. I didn’t mean to.”

He looked back at you with wide eyes, still unsure of you and the situation.

After he finally calmed down and realized it was only you he relaxed a little before standing up.

“Why are you sleeping on the floor to begin with?”, you asked concerned.

He shrugged, “You were gone a long time so I thought you just went to bed for the night. I didn’t know where you wanted me to sleep and I didn’t want to wake you. I usually get put on the floor or in the garage, sometimes outside so I just chose right here.”

Your heart hurt at that while your face flushed with anger.

Stretching out your hand you motioned for him to follow you into the living room. After finishing setting up the couch you turned to Yoongi who was still shyly standing in the doorway.

“I’m sorry you have to sleep on the couch tonight. I don’t have a spare bed at the moment. I did order one though which is why I was gone so long. It should be here in a day or two. But the couch is really comfy and I can get more blankets or pillows if you need them.”

While you felt like a terrible host for having him sleep on the couch, Yoongi looked at you like you’d just given him the world.”

“I-I can sleep on the couch?”, he asked still unsure.

“Yeah of course. Like I said I’m sorry I don’t have a bed for you but it’ll just be for a couple days.”

You saw the first glimpse of a smile before he went to sit down.

“Oh wait!”, you exclaimed and then made a mental note to try and not be as loud when you noticed how he flinched at your quick movements.

“Come with me.”, you motioned for him to follow you to the bathroom. When you got upstairs you showed him the clothes you’d laid out plus a towel, “I figured you’d like to take a hot shower and have a change of clothes. These should fit you for the night. If you bring your clothes downstairs I can put them in the wash so you’ll have them for tomorrow.”

An awkward silence filled the room as he looked around in disbelief so you just nodded before closing the door behind you and heading downstairs.

Thankfully the rest of the night went by smoothly and you’d almost forgotten all about the hybrid sleeping on your couch downstairs until you heard his soft snores filling the air. Peeking over the railing you spotted Yoongi still curled up in a little ball on the couch. You could see his ears swivel with the noise of a few birds chirping outside. How long had it been since he was able to sleep deeply like that?, you wondered.

As quietly as possible you tiptoed past him and made your way to the kitchen to get some coffee ready. About twenty minutes later Yoongi came walking into the kitchen looking incredibly grumpy. He was definitely not a morning person you thought to yourself.

“Good morning.”, you chuckled.

“Good morning.”, he scowled.

“Would you like some coffee or orange juice? I have some milk.”, you asked unsure of what his diet normally looked like.

“Water is okay.”

You nodded and handed him a glass.

“You can sit down you know.”, you said pointing to the chair across from you.

“Sorry. I’m not usually allowed on the furniture.”

“Yoongi you live here now too. At least for a while. You can sit on the furniture, watch tv, help yourself to anything in the kitchen. You don’t have to be afraid. I promise nothing bad will happen to you here and I’m not going to hurt you.”

He nodded in understanding, but you could tell that there was still a lot of apprehension there.

“Speaking of which, what would you like for breakfast? I’m not the greatest cook, but I can get by.”

“I’m okay. I don’t need to eat anything.”, he shrugged, but his stomach said otherwise following with a loud grumble.

“How about some scrambled eggs and toast?”, you asked which he gratefully accepted.

He offered to clean up the kitchen for you after breakfast and then you both headed to watch a little tv and wait for Namjoon who said he’d be over in the afternoon. There was quite a bit of awkwardness in the air as you both sat on opposite sides of the couch neither of you really knowing what to say or do. After three episodes of some random baking competition show you had put on there was a knock at the door. Yoongi’s ears laid back into his hair as he scrambled to try and find a hiding spot before you could answer it.

“It’s just Namjoon.”, you said after peaking out the window.

Your friend walked in carrying several bags of clothes and supplies.

He and Yoongi carried everything up stairs before returning back to the couch. You offered Namjoon some water as you took a seat across from them.

“So how did last night go?”, he sighed.

“Alright, I think. I have a bed coming for Yoongi. Should be here soon.” You peaked over at Yoongi hoping he’d agree. He nodded his head.

Namjoon took a sip before continuing, “So I have an update about this whole situation. I got a call this morning that Viper has been located.”

Yoongi visible tensed up and you had to stop yourself from reaching out to him not feeling like you had that right yet.

“Okay so they caught him?”, you asked.

Apprehensively Namjoon continued, “Not exactly. The last tracking we have of him is at the airport. It appears he fled the country. We don’t know exactly to where, but our best guess is he probably went somewhere with super lax laws surrounding hybrids where he can hide out and be less likely to get caught.”

“Okkaaayy so what does that mean for Yoongi?”, you asked.

“Umm well he’s still not out of the woods yet. Viper will have his guys looking all over for him. We heard they were already at the shelters on 38th and another on Rose Ave asking about him so he’s going to have to stay here a little longer.”

“Oh okay that’s fine.”, you responded almost a little too quickly for your liking.

Suddenly Namjoon turned his attention to Yoongi,” Why don’t you go upstairs and start unpacking all the stuff I brought?”

Yoongi wasn’t dumb and he knew that was code for I need to talk to Y/N in private so with an eye roll he agreed and headed upstairs.

Once you heard the door close you turned your attention back to Namjoon, “Joon I guess I’m just not understanding why this guy would go through all the trouble to find Yoongi. Couldn’t he just find another hybrid to abuse? Like why is he so set on finding Yoongi that he has guys searching all over for him?”

He took a long deep breath before continuing. His voice barely above a whisper trying to stop Yoongi’s enhanced hearing from listening in.

“Well he’s more than just a pet.”

“Ugh please don’t use that word.”, you spat in disgust.

Namjoon chuckled., “Alright well I’m sure you’ve noticed that Yoongi is particularly attractive. Like more attractive than your average hybrid or person.”

You nodded your head because of course you had. Yoongi was very handsome with his chiseled jaw and cute button nose that sat perfectly under his beautiful cat eyes. His sweet gentle nature combined with his politeness made him all that more attractive on top of it. Unfortunately you were starting to have an idea of where Namjoon was going to be taking this conversation.

He snapped his finger at you, “Reel it back in Y/N. Daydream about Yoongi another time.”

You rolled your eyes before motioning for him to continue which he did, “Well because of that there are people in this world that will pay a pretty penny to spend a night with him, for whatever reason. Some want to fulfill their sexual fantasies as I’m sure you expected, others just want to have a companion, and some want to fulfill other desires that may not be so legal being done to other humans or animals. Either way Viper just lost his biggest moneymaker who brings in a lot of repeat and new customers so he’s not going to stop until he finds him.”

You felt sick thinking about how Yoongi and all these other hybrids have been treated.

“I just need him to stay here for a while. Maybe you can help him come out of his shell a little. You know show him that not all people are bad.”

You licked your lips, “Yeah sure. Of course he can stay here.”

Namjoon smiled, “Thank you Y/N. I owe you big time.”

“Yeah you definitely do.”, you chuckled.

Namjoon went up to say bye to Yoongi before coming back down and giving you a hug, “Alright I’ll keep you updated. Let me know if you need anything.”

The following morning Yoongi’s bed was delivered and thankfully he was quite handy building the bed by himself in just a little over an hour. You tried to help, but mostly just stood off to the side handing him whatever he needed and offering words of encouragement.

After the bed was made you stood back taking a look at the room that was slowly coming together.

“Maybe we can get you a tv or something. Or a computer? Do you have any hobbies?”, you said sneaking a look at him.

He shook his head, “Y/N, you’ve already done more for me than anyone else ever has. I don’t need anything else.”

His words hit you. The thought that having a small bed and a couple hot meals was more than this poor soul had ever received combined with what Namjoon had told you earlier, it broke you.

“Enjoy your room for a while. I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”, you said before slipping out the door so he couldn’t see your watery eyes.

You may have gone a little overboard on ordering and definitely won’t be able to afford takeout for a while, but seeing the look on Yoongi’s face as he was devouring the pizza made it worth it. Over the last few months he had started opening up to you little by little. First it was little things like his favorite color or how he has always wanted to try pizza but was never allowed. He was still pretty skittish and didn’t seem to like being touched or even really be any closer than just sharing a couch. You didn’t blame him at all. But he had become a very important part of your life in a short time.

Then last night during a particularly severe thunderstorm you heard a soft knock at your bedroom door. Cracking it open you saw him standing there squeezing one of your favorite hoodies close to his chest. You wanted to question him about how and why he had it because you’d been looking for it for weeks, but the terror in his eyes diverted your attention. A loud clap of thunder rang through the air causing him to get low to the ground in fear using his hands and your hoodie to cover his ears. Without even thinking you grabbed his wrist pulling him into your room and tucking him in your bed. You thought he would protest, but he just burrowed deeper into the covers. Once back on your side the realization hit you that you were now sharing a bed with Yoongi, which other than a few accidental brushes against each other, was the closest the two of you had ever been.

You couldn’t deny that there had been some feelings brewing over the last couple weeks. You tried really hard to pushed them as far down as possible, but they kept coming to the surface. Yoongi had been through so much and there was no way you’d ever spring that on him, not right now. Especially when you had no idea at all if he even felt somewhat similar about you.

Another clap of thunder hit and you felt him jolt next to you with fear.

“Hey it’s okay. It’s just a storm. It should be over soon.”, you’d said trying to soothe him.

“I know, I’m sorry. It just loud noises sometimes scare me. It’s dumb.”

“Its not dumb. Is there anything I can do to help?”

He stayed silent for a few moments.

“Can you just hold me?”

His request stunned you into silence.

“N-never mind. It was a dumb idea.”

Before he could scoot away any further you grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him closer so your arms could fit over him. He buried his face in your neck and instantly you could feel some of the tension leave his body. You prayed he wouldn’t feel your heart about to beat out of your chest. You thought it would be awkward, but it actually felt quite nice and comforting. After giving him a few minutes to settle down you decided to bring up something you had been wondering about.

“Hey Yoongi?”

“Mmhm?”

“Why do you have my hoodie?”

The tension retuned.

“Umm well I found it one day when I was cold so I wore it but then I realized that it made me feel better. I just started hugging it when I feel overwhelmed or anxious and you’re not here or if I didn’t want to bother you. It smells like you and it helps me relax. You can have it back though. I’m sorry I took it without asking. Please don’t be mad.”

He panicked and tried to unwrap the fabric from his body, but you stopped him, “No no it’s okay. I was just wondering. You can keep it. I have a closet full of them. And you never bother me. Ever.”

After some reassurance he happily settled back down and not long after you heard the faintest rumble come from his chest. “Yoongi are you purring?”, you asked trying to hide how happy it made you that he felt so comfortable with you.

“Shut up. Sometimes I can’t help it.”, he said embarrassed that his body had betrayed him like that. He was trying to act mad, but even in the dark you could see the faint hint of a blush on his cheeks. You just chuckled before allowing him to snuggle in a little closer.

After a while you’d thought he had fallen asleep as the purrs died down, but then he spoke, “Thank you for letting me in here. I’m sorry I woke you up for this.”

“Don’t be sorry. I am always here for you. I promise.”

He chuckled, “I really hate thunderstorms. I feel like such a little kid sometimes.”

“Is it the loud noise?”

“Kind of, but it’s more than that.”

He then went on to tell you about one of Viper’s regulars, Mrs. Cho and how she’d always book time with him during thunderstorms because her husband was a meteorologist and was usually busy during those times. Apparently she was in to pain and he tried his best to describe the things she had forced him to do before his voice started cracking and you told him he didn’t have to go any further. Talking about those moments seemed to bring back a lot of painful memories for Yoongi as he spent the rest of the night clinging to you while whimpering himself awake every so often until you could soothe him back to sleep.

That night seemed to change something between the two of you. Over the following weeks Yoongi became a lot cuddlier, often choosing to sit next to you while watching tv and getting into bed with you at night even if there wasn’t a storm outside. You both cooked meals together, his arms around you more than he actually helped cook. He’d help you in your garden since it was only in your backyard blocked off by a fence and he liked getting some fresh air. Your feelings grew deeper and deeper too, but you couldn’t ever bring yourself to say anything. It wasn’t worth the risk of ruining everything you had with him.

So that’s why you decided to splurge and surprise him today with a pizza party thanks to the bonus you got at work. You knew it wouldn’t just magically make everything better, but it also couldn’t make it worse.

He told you over and over how the pizza was the best thing he’d ever tasted and you had to keep reminding him not to overdue it so he didn’t get a tummy ache.

You were just finishing up the dishes when a knock at the door pulled your attention that way. Like usual whenever someone came over Yoongi bolted for his room to hide until he knew it was safe to come out. You were a little nervous to open the door yourself. They still hadn’t caught Viper and you hadn’t heard from Namjoon in several days which was weird and there was an incident at the grocery store last week where you swore a man was following you, but nothing ever came of it so you chalked that up to just some creep following you around.

After peaking out the window you excitedly swung the door open before jumping into the man’s arms.

Yoongi sensing that you weren’t in danger peeked around the corner and saw you hugging it out with some guy. It made his chest constrict, a feeling he didn’t like. He knew he was starting to have feelings for you, he thought he had pushed those all the way down, but apparently not. He made his way down the stairs to the two of you standing right beside you so you’d notice him which of course you did right away.

“Yoongi! I’m glad you’re here. I want to introduce you to my good friend. This is Jungkook.”

The two men nodded a greeting at each other. You missed the way Jungkook eyed Yoongi up and down. Suddenly Yoongi got a really uneasy feeling about this person. He tried pulling you into the other room, but you brushed him off. You invited them both to take a seat with you but you were a little surprised that Yoongi decided to sit right next to you almost on your lap, but still between you and Jungkook. His tail was puffed up and swinging shortly showing his agitation as he glared at you friend.

“So Kookie how have you been?”, you asked offering him a drink.

“Kookie? Why don’t I have a nickname?”, Yoongi scoffed to himself.

“Pretty good. Traveling a lot. How have you been?”, Jungkook asked.

“Good, working a lot.”

The two of you went back and forth making light conversation. Yoongi was getting more and more angry as time went on. He just did not like this Jungkook, but he couldn’t quite place why. He knew a part of it was jealousy because it was clear you and Jungkook

had some history from the stories you told and he knew you’d never be interested in him in that way as much as he was starting to want that.

After what felt like hours you finally walked Jungkook to the door with Yoongi following close behind.

“It was so nice to see you Y/N.”, he smiled.

“Yeah of course. You, me, and Namjoon will have to get together some time. Just like our old college days.”

You both chucked followed by Jungkook extending his hand out towards Yoongi. That’s when Yoongi saw it. On Jungkook’s wrist was a tattoo of a snake. Or more specifically a viper. It was a marking that all of the close associates of Viper had and THAT is why Yoongi didn’t like this guy. He was bad news.

Without thinking he lunged forward attacking Jungkook. His need to protect you overtaking his fear for a moment. You looked on in shock before realizing what happened. By that time Jungkook had already thrown a punch causing Yoongi to fall to the ground.

“Bye Y/N. See you around.”, he said before smirking at Yoongi who was still laying on the floor.

“What the hell Yoongi? Why did you do that?”, you said dropping to your knees next to him.

Softly you moved his hand seeing the welt already forming on this cheek.

“Come on. Let’s get some ice.”

Back in the kitchen and with a bag of frozen peas on his face you went back to scolding him, “You can’t just go around attacking people Yoongi. You could get in a lot of trouble. Especially as a hybrid they’ll look for any reason to deem you as a delinquent.”

Yoongi continued to stare at the floor.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”, you asked letting more of your annoyance show through than you had planned.

“Jungkook works for Viper.”

“No he doesn’t. He works with Namjoon for the HPA.”, you chuckled.

“Y/N, I’m serious. He has the viper tattoo. I saw it.”

You were starting to feel the frustration bubbling.

“Yoongi lots of people have Viper tattoos. It’s like a pretty common thing.”

He shook his head, “No it’s a specific tattoo that all his closest guys get. It’s like some initiation bullshit or something.” He took a breath before continuing, “They only get it after they’ve proven their loyalty by murdering a hybrid.”

“There’s no way. Jungkook would never do that. He’s always been for trying to improve hybrid rights.”, you shook your head.

Yoongi removed the bag of peas revealing the red welt, “Y/N I’ve seen that tattoo hundreds and hundreds of times. I know what I saw.”

You still didn’t want to believe him. Jungkook was one of your closest friends. You never would’ve let someone like that into your life. Unable to stop the words from spilling out of your mouth you’d told up backing away from him.

“You’re just jealous Yoongi.”

He scoffed, “Of what?”

“Because for the last couple months I’ve been devoting all my attention and energy to you until now when I showed the slightest bit of attention towards another guy so now you’re making up lies to make me hate him. You only want me for yourself.”

Now it was his turn to laugh, “For what? You’re just my temporary owner. Fuck every guy in the city. I don’t care. I’m just trying to protect myself and that means not having that guy around.”

His words stung you a little. You were starting to catch feelings, but to him you were just another human that had ownership of him as a pet, nothing more.

“You’re lying.”, you whispered.

“Y/N I’m not lying. You need to call Namjoon. Now! We’re both in danger.”

You shook your head, “I can’t believe you Yoongi. I never thought you’d become such a problem hybrid.”

You heard him audibly gasp and you instantly regretted saying it. While referring to a hybrid as a problem hybrid might not seem like much of an issue to a human, to a hybrid it was considered derogatory since they have had to fight for a long long time to prove that they too could be a productive part of society with no issues just as any human could. So calling one a problem hybrid deemed them a lost cause and basically meant they should just be locked away and remain nothing more than a pet on a leash.

“I’m sorry Yoo-.”, you tried to say reaching forward for him, but before you could finish he threw the bag down on the table and ran up to his room slamming the door behind him.

It had been a week since you last saw Yoongi. He refused to eat meals with you. He no longer sat behind you while you worked or cuddled next to you while watching tv. Your bed felt colder and lonelier too after you’d gotten used to him quietly crawling in with you in the middle of the night.

At the end of the week you decided to reach out to Namjoon to ask for advice, luckily for you he contacted you on his own through text. You figured he was probably somewhere that he couldn’t really talk out loud.

Joon: Hey how are things going? Sorry I’ve been MIA. Just a lot going on.

You: Honestly, been better.

Joon: Yeah I wanted to talk to you about that. Yoongi contacted me the other day. He said something about wanting to go to a shelter.

You felt like you were going to be sick. You had tried to apologize several times for the problem hybrid situation, but he never wanted to hear it. You had no idea that he hated you so much he’d rather risk it living in a shelter, but you also couldn’t really blame him.

You: Yeah I let my emotions get the best of me and said something that I shouldn’t have. I really don’t want him to leave, but I won’t force him to stay.

Joon: Technically since you’re not his owner you can’t force him to stay anyways. It’s just still not safe out there and if he goes to a shelter it’s only a matter of time until they find him. What set this all off? Maybe I can talk to him.

You: I don’t even know any more. Jungkook showed up and Yoongi just attacked him. Said he was working with Viper. And then we got in an argument.

You: Have you seen Jungkook recently?

Joon: No I haven’t. He suddenly quit the agency about 9 months ago and I haven’t heard from him since.

Joon: Listen Y/N, I know you and Jungkook have or had a thing, but maybe it’s best to listen to Yoongi. He’s been in Vipers world most of his life. He knows a lot and if he’s saying Jungkooks bad news then he means it.

You: I just don’t see how that is possible. He’s a good guy.

Joon: Sometimes the worst people are the best at hiding their true colors. Just stay away from him until I do some more digging. Please. For yours and Yoongi’s safety. I’m going to talk to Yoongi and try to convince him to stay with you for now. I think it’s best.

You: Alright. Keep me updated. Stay safe yourself.

Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you knocked on Yoongi’s door with a shaky hand. Surprisingly he opened the door which you were not expecting so admittedly you were not prepared.

“Umm I just got off the phone with Namjoon. He said you wanted to go to a shelter instead. I’m not going to force you to stay.”

You handed him a couple old duffel bags you had, “So here are some bags. You’re welcome to take anything in the room. It’s all yours. Namjoon is going to look around and decide where he thinks it’ll be the safest for you to go.”

Gently he grabbed the bags from you. Just before he closed the door again you stopped him, “Oh and Yoongi, I’m really sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t mean to break my promise.”

Namjoon tried for several days to convince Yoongi to stay, but ultimately he was stubborn and had already made his decision. Namjoon had his sister pick him up early in morning a few days ago to take him to a shelter about three hours away. Namjoon wouldn’t tell you the exact location for your safety so that’s as much as you got. Now as you laid in bed trying to fall asleep while there was a raging thunderstorm going on outside you couldn’t help but worry about him. Was the storm hitting his area? How was he coping? He’d surely have a nightmare and you felt awful not being there to comfort him, but this is what he wanted even though it was all because of you.

You were just finally starting to fall asleep when a loud knock at your door woke you up. Tempted to ignore it, especially at this hour, you turned over trying to fall back asleep when you heard another knock. Then the possibilities flooded you. What if something happened to Yoongi? What if it was Yoongi?!

Jumping out of bed you sprinted down the stairs forgoing even checking who it was and swinging open the door praying to find Yoongi only to be met with the person who brought this all on.

“Hi Y/N, sorry to drop in like this again.”, Jungkook smiled.

You invited him in even though Yoongi and Namjoon’s words replayed in your head. You watched as he looked around your home before taking a seat.

“What do I owe the pleasure?”, you asked suddenly feeling uncomfortable with him here alone with you.

“Just thought I’d stop by. I was in the area again. Maybe we could go to that diner on Main. Like old times.”, he laughed.

You don’t know if it was the warnings or what, but this definitely didn’t feel like all the old times when Jungkook would show up at your door in the middle of the night wanting to go get chocolate chip pancakes while you both told corny jokes and laughed until the waitress finally had to kick you guys out. This felt darker, sinister even. Only made worse when you noticed the piece of black metal clinging to his hip that he tried to hide with his leather jacket. Jungkook had always been against violence especially anything that included weapons. You remembered when he first started training for the agency and had to learn how to assemble and use a gun. He despised it, almost quitting because of it, but he knew it was for the better of the hybrid community. If he really had quit the agency like Namjoon said then he would’ve had to turn in all of his weapons so the fact that he had one on him made your uneasiness all that more prominent.

“Yeah let me go grab my purse!”, you exclaimed trying to get away from him now realizing something was up. He grabbed your hand stopping you from going any further, “No need Y/N. I’ll pay.”

“Oh well at least let me go get dressed. I don’t want to go out looking like such a slob.”, you chuckled quickly bolting up the stairs before he could stop you again.

In your room with the door closed you frantically searched for your phone wanting to call Namjoon or the police or anyone for help.

Finding it lying on the floor you grabbed it quickly searching your contacts. In your frazzled state you failed to hear anyone creep up behind you until it was too late and you felt the cold metal against the warmth of your forehead.

A strong arm pulling you close against a body much bigger than yours.

“Y/N, put the phone down. You don’t want to do that.”, Jungkook growled in your ear.

“Why are you doing this?”, you asked slowly tossing your phone on the bed. “You were against abuse towards hybrids just like me and Namjoon. Now you work with the worst in the business?”, you questioned him.

“Look, I really don’t want to have to hurt you. I still care about you Y/N. That’s the only reason I didn’t just kill you the other night and take Yoongi then. Tell me where he is and I’ll let you go.”

You shook your head, “I don’t know. They took him this morning.”

You could hear him scoff as he pushed the tip of the gun against your forehead a little harder making you flinch in fear.

“Y/N, I won’t ask again. Where did they take Yoongi?”, he shouted.

“A shelter in North Provence. That’s all they told me.”, you spit out.

You cried tears of relief when you felt him pull the gun away before throwing you down on the ground.

“Thanks Love.”, was all he said before sprinting out of your home.

Quickly grabbing your phone you dialed Namjoon’s number.

North Provence was at least six hours away from you so double the time Namjoon had told you, hopefully buying you some time.

You called him twelve times before giving up.

You knew you had to get to Yoongi and make sure he was safe and apologize for everything. He had been right about Jungkook, but you had no idea where he was. Three hours away could be in any direction.

While getting dressed as quickly as possible you suddenly remembered that Namjoon had a cousin who ran a non-profit hybrid organization that would take in hybrids, rehab them, and then adopt them out. If you remembered correctly it was located about two hours and fifty minutes from you. You didn’t know if you were correct, but it was the only lead you had.

Making the drive there in record time you reached the shelter just as they were opening. You still hadn’t been able to contact Namjoon so you were doing this solo.

Namjoon’s cousin, Jin, greeted you at the front desk.

“Oh hey Y/N! It’s been ages. I really need to get on Joonie to start coming around more.”

You tried to smile, “I know , I know, I completely agree.”

“So what can I do for you?”

Trying to hide the shake in your voice unsure of how much Jin knows you took a deep breath, “Well I’d really like to adopt a hybrid and I knew this was the perfect place to come.”

He chuckled, “Well you certainly did come to the right place. Do you know what you’re looking for? We just got in this Labrador hybrid. His name is Hoseok or Hobi for short. He is the sweetest ray of sunshine and I think you’d love him.”

“He does sound very nice, but I was looking for more of a cat hybrid. Maybe a black cat?l

Jin looked up at the ceiling, “Hmm you know we do have a few cats. Come on back with me and see if there’s any that CATch your eye.”

He laughed hysterically at his own joke so you giggled along trying to hide the fact that you were two seconds away from vomitting.

“So right now we have four cat hybrids up for adoption. I think you’d really get along with Jimin the most. He’s not a black cat, but he’s very cuddly and playful. He’ll seriously be your best friend.”

You nodded taking a look though the glass rooms. You knew the owners of the shelters were just doing their best to find homes for the hybrids, but it felt so wrong walking through a long hallway staring into these rooms holding people for you to buy.

As mentioned Jin introduced to Jimin who immediately came walking up to the glass. Jin told you that Jimin was a Russian blue cat hybrid. He had beautiful fluffy gray hair and the prettiest greenish blue eyes. He shyly waved to you. Jin explained that Jimin had been rescued from a hybrid hording situation. He was very sweet and you had almost considered adopting him, but you had a different mission at the moment.

As much as it pained you to walk away you asked Jin to see the rest of the cat hybrids, but much to your dismay none of them were Yoongi.

“So see any that you like?”, Jin asked excitedly.

“They’re all very nice and I want them to all have good homes, but I was really looking for a black cat.”

Jin look apprehensive, “Weeeelllll we do have one black cat hybrid, but I don’t think he’s ready for adoption yet. Maybe if you’re willing to wait a couple months then you could adopt him. He’s only been here like a few days and he’s just really depressed and anxious. The thunderstorm last night really set him off.”

The more he described the hybrid the more it sounded like Yoongi.

You grabbed onto Jins arm, “Oh please let me see him! Please Jin!”

He looked at you confused by your excitement.

“I don’t know Y/N. I think a visitor would only stress him out more and I don’t want to do that.”

“Jin please. I promise I won’t even say anything to him. I just want to see him. Maybe it’ll help me decide if I’m really set on a black cat.”

“You’re lucky I love you like a sister.”, he sighed before leading you through a set of double doors.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

“Just please try not to startle him. It seems like he’s been through a lot.”, he said leading you to a small room at the end of the hall.

Softly you tiptoed in front of the window. He was laying on a cot facing the wall. All you could see was black hair with two black ears poking out. That could be any cat hybrid and not necessarily Yoongi. You wanted to shout his name or beg for him to turn around. Anything to see his face.

You went to ask a question when suddenly an alarm sounded through the building.

“Sorry Y/N, I have to go check on that. I’ll be right back.”, Jin said before sprinting towards the back of the building.

You turned around prepared to gently knock on the glass now that Jin wasn’t around when you saw a familiar pair of eyes already looking back at you.

You’d found him. Quickly you began banging on the glass, “Yoongi are you okay? Yoongi please talk to me.”

Unfortunately he was uninterested in talking and turned back around to face the wall. His tail swaying lazily back and forth.

“Yoongi please! You were right about every thing. About Jungkook. He works for Viper.”

Still no reaction from him other than his tail coming to a halt .

“He showed up at my house. He held a gun to my head demanding to know where you were.”

That seemed to get his attention even more. You saw his ears swivel in your direction.

“I lied and sent him somewhere far away, but it’s only a matter of time until he figures it out. I need to get you out of here. Please Yoongi.”

You don’t know when you started crying, but you could feel the tears soaking the top of your shirt. Between the exhaustion and the stress and the fear you were reaching a breaking point.

Falling to your knees your face fell into your hands while you just sobbed. It wasn’t until you heard a tapping on the glass did you look up to see Yoongi kneeling in front of you on the other side. His palm pressed to the glass as he nodded.

Finally the alarm turned off which meant Jin could be back at any moment. You tried your best to wipe away the tears as you heard quick footsteps coming in your direction.

Thinking back to your high school drama days you you knew you were going to have to put on an act.

“I am so sorry about that Y/N. One of the staff members forgot to turn off the security alarm before going out the back door to receive a shipment. Have you given it anymore tho-, why are you crying?”, Jin said coming to an abrupt stop next to you.

You chuckled, “Sorry. You know me and how I get so emotional sometimes. Yoongi was just telling me about his past and I just feel so terrible about what he went through.”

Jin looked at you skeptically. Yoongi hadn’t spoken a word to anyone but he just told you his entire life story?

“Jin, I want to adopt him. Please.”

He looked between you and Yoongi. “No I don’t think that’s a good idea”., he shook his head.

“Jin, what’s the motto of this organization?”

“Everyone deserves a chance.”, he sighed.

“Sooo give me and Yoongi a chance.”

He looked over at Yoongi who gave him a nod.

Jin ran his fingers through his hair, “Alright, but don’t make me regret this. Either of you!”

Jin pulled you into a back room to fill out some paperwork. Thankfully he gave you the family and friends discount so you were able to afford the adoption fee.

As you were standing near the exit waiting for Jin to return with Yoongi you couldn’t help but feel the fear building now that you had found him. You tried calling Namjoon a couple more times, but without luck.

When Jin finally appeared with Yoongi following behind he handed you some more paperwork along with the bags that Yoongi had taken from your place.

You both ran off to your car and you didn’t waste any time to begin driving wanting to get away from the shelter just in case.

Yoongi had been silent this whole time until you heard his stomach grumble. You made sure to drive out a little further before stopping at a restaurant to grab something to eat.

After taking a sip of his milk he looked you up and down, “So what do we do now Y/N?”

“Well” you said finishing up the bite of your omelette. “To be honest I don’t know. I didn’t think I’d actually find you and if I did I didn’t think you’d leave with me. I’ve been calling Namjoon repeatedly, but he’s not answering. I don’t know who else we can trust.”

The table fell silent again as you both ate.

While Yoongi was staring out the window you took the opportunity to really look at him. He was noticeably thinner than you remembered. Dark circles surrounded his eyes. His lips extra chapped from licking them, a nervous habit of his you learned. His head hung lower than ever. You wanted to engulf him in a hug and tell him everything was going to be okay, but you knew you’d lost that right so you decided on an apology instead.

“Hey Yoongi.”, you’d said pulling his attention back to you.

“I, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for that night that Jungkook came over. I should’ve listened to you. I just didn’t want to believe that someone I had been so close to would have become such a terrible person. And I’m especially sorry for what I said. You’re not a problem hybrid. You’re the opposite actually.”

Unable to take his glare anymore you turned your attention back to your coffee.

He cleared his throat, “Im sorry for what I said too. I guess I just got a little jealous seeing how close you were with him. And then when I realized who he was I wanted to protect you and I was getting stressed out that you weren’t letting me.”

A silence fell over the table again except for you thanking your waiter for refilling your coffee.

“And uh thank you for coming for me. To be honest, I regretted leaving as soon as I got in the car.”, Yoongi whispered while staring into his pancakes. You gave him a smile before finishing up your meal.

“Well I have no idea what to do now. We can’t go to my place. Namjoon isn’t answering. I can’t really afford a hotel for more than a couple night.”

Yoongi took a final sip of his drink, “I might know someone we can trust. Can I borrow your phone?”

You were unsure, but you learned your lesson for not trusting him the first time so you handed it over and watched as he walked over to the entrance. After paying the bill you gathered your things and met him by the car.

“I have somehwere we can go. Just get on the highway and I’ll give you the directions.”

You did as he said ending up driving about two hours south before pulling up to a large farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. A perfect spot for a murder to go unsolved you thought. A man sitting on the porch swing sipping away on an iced tea got up ready to greet you.

Yoongi sensing your anxiousness reached over placing his hand on your knee, “We can trust him. I promise.”

You nodded still unsure but got out of the car following after him.

The man walked over and embraced Yoongi in a hug.

“Hello Taehyung. Thank you for taking us in.”, he said pulling away.

“Of course. You know you’re always welcome here.”, the man spoke in a very deep tone.

The two of them spoke in whispers giving you the chance to really look this Taehyung over. He had beautifully fluffy golden blond hair with deep amber eyes. Then you noticed two tiny little ears poking out of the locks and a long thin tail slowly swaying behind him. It appeared that he was a lion hybrid, which was extremely rare. Exotic hybrids were hard to come by, especially living out on their own in the countryside.

You were woken out of your thought when you felt a pair of arms wrap around you., “Ahh and this must be your friend you were telling me about. You’re right hyung, she is very beautiful.” You stifled a chuckle, but heard a very embarrassed Yoongi mumble something about needing to learn to keep his mouth shut before turning a bright shade of red.

Taehyung opened the door motioned for you two to follow him, “Come on in. I’ll show you to your rooms.”

You both followed him up the stairs and down a very long hallway. Taehyung was very friendly, but definitely a talker you learned. You felt like you were on museum tour the way he described each piece of artwork or architecture.

“I didn’t know if you two were going to be sleeping separately or together but just in case I have both options ready for you.”, he said opening two different bedroom doors.

You and Yoongi looked at each other awkwardly causing the lion hybrid to chuckled, “Well you two can figure it out together. I’ll let you get some rest and come get you when dinner is ready.”

You both agreed that it would be best to sleep in the same room, for safety reasons of course and not because there was definitely something still brewing between the two of you.

“So how do you know Taehyung?”, you asked trying to break the silence.

Yoongi sat down on the bed, “Well uh he actually used to also be owned by Viper and we were pretty close back then. Since he’s younger I always tried to protect him as much as I could. He managed to escape a few years ago though. We kept in touch the best we could. He always tried to get me to escape too, but I was just too afraid.”

“So what do we do now?”, you asked.

“I don’t really know. The easy answer is hideout and hope they’re able to arrest Viper before they find us. But I have a feeling it won’t be that simple.”

You chuckled, “Yeah me too.”

Taehyung called you both down for dinner. He greeted you in the kitchen with two glasses of wine.

At the stove stirring a pot was a beautiful woman. She didn’t appear to be any part hybrid, but fully a human like yourself. She greeted you with a smile, “Oh hi! You must be Y/N, Yoongi’s girlfriend.” The sip of wine went down wrong causing you to choke at her words. Yoongi threw Taehyung a glare causing him to put his hands up in defense.

The woman chuckled, “Sorry about that. My name is Lilly. I’m Taehyung’s wife.”

“Oh nice to meet you.”, you smiled.

She turned back to the stove playfully swatting Taehyung’s hand away from the bacon wrapped asparagus that were set out on a platter before he apologized with a kiss.

They looked really in love and after everything had happened it made your heart bubble with happiness to see it. It was not illegal for a human and a hybrid to get married, but it was extremely frowned upon by both the government and citizens alike forcing most hybrids and humans to never cross that line. You had never seen an issue with it and seeing a couple so happy made you really glad they had that option.

“Alright, let’s sit for dinner.”, Taehyung exclaimed clapping his hands together. Throughout the dinner Yoongi and Taehyung caught up and told stories. You and Lilly got to know each other. You had just finished up the last of the dishes when Taehyung invited everyone out to the back patio for a couple drinks.

“Soooo what are your next steps?”, he asked.

You had such a nice evening that you had honestly forgotten all about the whole reason you were there to begin with.

He continued, “You know Viper is going to have guys looking all over for you. Hell he’s probably still got them looking for me too.”

You hadn’t realized just how much Taehyung was also risking by having you guys there. He could be caught and imprisoned again.

Yoongi cleared his throat, “We’re not sure. Hopefully we can hide out here for a few days and then figure something out. Maybe finally get in contact with Namjoon.”

You nodded along in agreement.

“Well you’re both welcome to stay here as long as you need. We’ll help in any way we can.”, Lilly spoke up.

The next few days you and Yoongi spent a lot of time together trying to help out around the farm as much as possible.

Lilly and Taehyung had made a trip into town to get some supplies leaving just the two of you alone.

You were sitting on the couch cuddled liked you used to. Your back leaning against his chest. His arm lazily around your shoulder while his tail tickled your sides.

You were so engrossed in the movie that you hadn’t noticed Yoongi’s fingers lightly running up and down the exposed skin of your thigh until you noticed the goosebumps he was leaving behind. Slowly he seemed to be testing his limits by going higher and higher.

After a couple minutes of this you looked back at him catching his attention.

“What?”, he chuckled.

“Nothing.” Just as you’d figured he didn’t even realize he was doing it and there was no meaning behind his actions.

Then at some point his light touches turned into desperation. You don’t know how one thing lead to another, but somehow you ended up back in your room. Clothes discarded all over until you were left in nothing but your underwear. Yoongi fell back onto the bed pulling you on top of him. You happily obliged moving to straddle him making it more comfortable for you both. Hungrily you searched for his mouth wanting more. You ground down on him eliciting a moan that only encouraged you more. He helped push you down onto him again this time guiding you to hit just the right spots. You felt his soft tail wrap around your waist giving just a little extra bit of force. Between kisses and filthy words the cloth between the two of you became too much of a barrier to take any more. Without thinking you hooked your finger under the waistband of his boxers ready to release him when suddenly something snapped in Yoongi.

He wasn’t in bed about to make love to you, a woman that he cared deeply for, some might even say love. Instead he was back in one of Vipers “play” rooms. Loud music blaring, some person he didn’t know who had paid a handsome amount of money to have their way with him was grabbing him without his consent.

“Stop! Don’t touch me.”, he shouted making you recoil back like he had burned you. Maybe you had misread the situation after all.

“Yoongi what happened?”, you asked concerned. Instead of responding he fled back. Burying himself under the covers. You could hear the sobs come from beneath.

Quickly you threw on a shirt, yours or his it didn’t matter and gently made your way next to him careful not to touch him.

“Yoongi, it’s Y/N. No one is going to hurt you. I promise. You are just here with me. We’re at Taehyung’s. Remember?”

After a few minutes and a couple more affirmations his breathing started to slow and he peaked out from underneath the covers.

You smiled, “Hey are you okay? Can I get you anything? Maybe some water?”

He shook his head but you felt his fingers come rest against your hand before he intertwined them with your own trying to ground himself and bring him back to reality.

You gave him time to calm down. You didn’t dare move or speak for fear of setting him off.

“I’m sorry.”, he whispered after several minutes.

Lightly you giggled, “What are you sorry about silly? You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I ruined the moment. You probably think I’m some kind weirdo.”

You shook your head, “That couldn’t be farther from the truth. I’m sorry that I didn’t check with you more. I should’ve been more careful.”

He pulled your hand closer to him so he could snuggle in your lap and you ran your fingers through his hair.

“I, I would like to try again one day. If that’s okay with you.”, he mumbled into your skin. The vibrations making you chuckle.

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready we can try again.”

You woke up the next morning to loud pounding on the door. Forgetting where you were more a minute you ignored it until you heard Taehyung’s voice. Jumping out of bed you were thankful you had both managed to get some clothes on after last night when you swung open the door. A very disheveled looking Taehyung greeted you.

“We need to get out of here.”, he exclaimed.

You looked back at him in confusion thankful that Yoongi had finally joined you.

He continued, “I just got a call from one of my friends in town. They saw Viper and a couple of his crew walking around. He’s onto us and it’s only a matter of time until they’re here. Grab what you can and meet me in the garage. We’ll take my truck.” Lilly came running up m to him ready to go but he shook his head, “It’s way too dangerous. Go up in the attic and lock the door. Use all of the locks. Stay quiet and don’t answer the door for anyone other than me. Just like we practiced. Okay?” She nodded and gave him a kiss before running up to the attic as instructed.

Meanwhile you and Yoongi grabbed your belongings which thankfully wasn’t much and made your way out to the garage where Taehyung was already waiting. You were barely in the truck before he sped off leaving the farmhouse behind.

“Fuck, where are we gonna go?”, Yoongi asked running a hand through his hair.

“How did they even find us so fast?”, you asked.

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders, “I have no idea. Viper runs a very large operation. He probably has guys stationed in every city.”

Taehyung drove for hours only stopping for a bathroom break and to get some gas.

“What are we going to do? We can’t just drive around forever?”, you asked once back in the truck.

“A buddy of mine lives a little west of here. He’s an ex HPA officer. Maybe he can help us out.”, Taehyung said turning to Yoongi for assurance.

You were half way to your destination when your phone rang. The screen illuminated with Namjoon’s picture. You’ve never accepted a call so fast.

“Hello”

“Hi Y/N, I’m so sorry I haven’t be reachable. Some crazy shit has gone down.”

“Yeah you’re telling me.”

“Where are you?”, he asked.

“I have no idea. We’re with one of Yoongi’s friends. He was right about Jungkook. He works for Viper now.”

“I know. It’s unfortunate. Y/N, I’m going to send you my location. You guys can meet me here. I can get you somewhere safe.”

“Okay Joon. We’ll see you soon.”

As promised you received his location not long after. Taehyung punched it into his gps and made a uturn.

“Are you sure we can trust this guy?”, he asked feeling a little uneasy. You didn’t blame him after everything he’s been through.

“Yeah. I’ve known him since we were kids. He works for the HPA. He’s the one that initially brought Yoongi to me.” Yoongi nodded in agreement.

After an hour drive the truck pulled up to an abandoned looking warehouse close to the main river.

“Are you sure this is the location?”, Yoongi asked looking around and you quickly showed him your phone to verify.

You dialed Namjoon’s number surprised that he quickly answered.

“Hey are you sure that locatjon was correct? It’s like a creepy looking factory or something?”, you asked.

He chuckled, “Yeah yeah I know it looks rough but I’m inside. We’ve got a little operation running.”

Hanging up the three of you exited the truck and started walking towards the open door. Taehyung lead the way with Yoongi following close behind. He pulled you against him needing to know that you were safe there with him.

Inside the warehouse you didn’t see a whole HPA operation set up like you had imagined. Instead you found Namjoon tied to a chair with several men surrounding him all pointing their guns at the three of you.

You noticed that each man had the same viper tattoo that Jungkook had. Namjoon looked at you apologetically. His eye was bruised and his lip had clearly been spilt open.

“I’m so sorry Y/N. I’m sorry I brought you into this mess.”, he cried.

Instinctively you went to run to him but Yoongi stopped you. Pulling you close against him again. You wanted to protest, but were cut off by a high pitched laugh.

A strange man came walking in directly towards Yoongi positioning himself at eyelevel. “Well well well, you didn’t really think you could hide from me did you Kitty?”, he spoke running his finger delicately along Yoongi’s cheek.

You noticed the large Viper tattoo front and center on his chest. It didn’t take much to figure out that you were looking directly Viper himself.

Then as if you called him by thinking of him he set his sights on you hiding behind Yoongi.

“Ohhhh I see you’ve got yourself a little girlfriend. How adorable.”, he laughed.

“Don’t touch her.”, Yoongi spat.

“Please, I don’t want anything to do with your whore. The hybrid fucker can get lost for all I care.”

Viper walked closer to Yoongi until he was a mere inch from his face, “You know you’ve cost me a lot of money and time over the last few months. You’re going to have to make this all up to me.”

“Fine, just let Y/N go free.”, Yoongi said.

“No Yoongi, you can’t do that.”, you cried reaching for him, but Viper snapped his fingers and two of his men came over dragging you away. You tried your best to fight free, but they overpowered you.

As you were being pulled away you saw Viper kick his foot into Yoongi’s stomach dropping him to his knees in pain.

Something off to the side took his attention away from Yoongi though and you saw his face light up into a disgusting grin, “Tae is that you? I thought I lost you forever. This day just keeps getting better.”

Taehyung let out what could only be described as low roar making you jump in surprise forgetting for a moment that he was half lion.

“Stand down you overgrown house cat.”, Viper scoffed.

“Leave him alone. You have me now. Just like you wanted.”, Yoongi shouted.

You watched as Viper strolled over back Yoongi before backhanding him so hard causing Yoongi to fall over.

You screamed out his name, tears streaming down your face at the abuse he was receiving.

Viper rolled his eyes annoyed at the scene you were causing. He pointed to one of his men that currently had a death grip on your arm, “Finish her.”

Once again you felt the familiar cold metal against your skin.

“Noooo, don’t fucking touch her.”, Yoongi cried using what little strength he had left to try and break free.

Viper sadistically smiled seeing this all unfold., “Do it. Make sure Yoongi see it happen. It’ll be the first step in his punishment.”

You looked at Yoongi. His eyes were bloodshot and he was out of breath. A bruise on his cheek already forming. You mustered whatever you could manage to give him a small smile before closing your eyes. You could hear Yoongi’s pleas and cries. You wondered if you’d feel pain. You wondered if it would be instant.

Everything went silent. Then you heard the familiar sound of a gunshot so you braced. But you never felt pain. You never felt the impact. You thought maybe it really had been instant.

Then you heard doors slamming open and lots of shouting.

“HPA! Put your hands in the air before someone else gets shot.”

You opened your eyes to find dozens and dozens of HPA officers swarming the warehouse. The man who had held a gun to you earlier was facedown on the ground next to you, blood pooling around him.

Three HPA officers slowly walked towards Viper with guns drawn while a forth placed him in cuffs. The rest of Vipers men were quickly placed in cuffs too.

As soon as an officer grabbed the other guy who was holding on to you, you immediately ran to Yoongi engulfing him in a hug and sobbing into his chest.

“This isn’t over. You will pay for all of this. All of you.”, Viper spat at you as he was being dragged away.

“Are you okay? We need to get you to a hospital.”, you turned to Yoongi checking him over.

“No no I’m okay. I’m more worried about you.”, he said squeezing you a little tighter.

“We have a medic outside. They can check you both over.”, a familiar voice stated next to you.”

“Oh my god Namjoon! Are you okay?”, you exclaimed running into his arms.

“Yeah yeah. I’m fine.”, he smiled. “Just some good special fx makeup and terrible acting. Let’s go outside.”

Once in the fresh air you saw a face you never wanted to see again standing next to the ambulance. He gave you a nervous smile.

“What the fuck Jeon Jungkook?”, you shouted as he walked closer.

“Y/N, let me expla-“

He couldn’t finish the statement before your hand connected with his cheek.

“No Fuck you Jungkook. You held a gun to my head. You threatened me. You work for Viper and now you just want to stand here like nothing happened. Why aren’t you in handcuffs?”

Namjoon came in between you two, “Everyone just calm down. We have a command center set up next door. Let go over there, get some water, and cool down a little.”

You were in disbelief that Namjoon was taking his side. You looked at Yoongi for guidance and he nodded his head before reaching for your hand to follow after the two men.

Once in the command center and with a cold bottle of water in your hands you glared and Jungkook still not trusting him.

“How are you feeling Y/N? Can I get you something to eat?”, he spoke.

“Cut the bullshit Jungkook. What’s going on?”, you spat back at him.

“Firstly I want to apologize. That night at your place was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.”

You scoffed, “I didn’t ask for an apology. I want an explanation about why it happened to begin with.”

He took a deep breath before beginning, “The agency has really been putting a lot of effort into catching Viper. One of the ideas was to have someone infiltrate his group. Since I did mostly office work and was unknown amongst his men it was decided that it would be me. So about a year ago I started working on that. I pretended to quit the agency. The only people that knew about the whole plan at the time were Namjoon and the head of the HPA.”

“Wait, but you have the snake tattoo. Didn’t you have to kill a hybrid to get that?”

Namjoon stepped in, “It was all a setup. A retired officer who happened to be a hybrid somehow found out about everything. He was also in the final stages of cancer and volunteered his body. He wanted to make sure Viper was taken down for the safety of all hybrids.”

You shook your head in disbelief.

Jungkook cleared his throat and continued, “Viper got word that Namjoon had taken Yoongi to one of his friends. For some reason I had a feeling it was you. So I came over that first night to see if Yoongi was there and of course I verified he was. Two of Vipers guys were with me or I would’ve warned you that night.”

You could feel Yoongi’s tail swinging agitatedly next to you. A low growl rumbled in his chest, “So you purposely brought Vipers men to her house? They could’ve killed her!”

Jungkook scoffed, “I would’ve never let them hurt her. I had to keep the act up or they would’ve got suspicious about why I was there.”

The growl from Yoongi got a little louder so you rested your hand on his thigh to try and sooth him not wanting a repeat of that first meeting. Slowly you could feel him settle down even though his tail said otherwise.

Jungkook continued, “When I came back the second time I was planning on getting you both to a hideout for a while, but then Yoongi wasn’t there. I thought I was alone when I arrived, but once I got inside I realized that I had been followed so I had to act like I was there to get Yoongi.”

“Soooo you threatened to kill me to save your own ass?”, you questioned.

“No no no I was never going to hurt you. The gun wasn’t even loaded. I swear. I just needed to make it believable so that none of us would get hurt.”

“So then how did we end up here? How did you know where Yoongi and I would be?”

Jungkook continued, “Well that first time I was at your house and I punched Yoongi, sorry about that by the way.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes not wanting to accept the apology.

Jungkook continued, “I might have stuck a small tracker in your purse while you were distracted by taking care of Yoongi.”

After noticing your anger rising Namjoon took over, “When we saw that you went to Jin’s shelter we knew that you had found Yoongi. Jin confirmed you had adopted him. Then we tracked you to Taehyung’s address. We got his contact info and then told him everything that was going on. He agreed to play along and help us out by getting you guys to come here. Then we had Jungkook call Viper and tell him we had a tracker with Yoongi so that he’d come here too.”

“Wow unbelievable. Everyone in my life is a lier apparently.”, you shook your head.

“Y/N, I’m sorry we lied. We had to do what we needed to do so we could catch Viper. But I promise you were never in any real danger. We constantly had surveillance on you and if anything had ever happened we would’ve had officers there immediately.”, Namjoon said.

“I hope you can forgive me. I’m really sorry this had to happen this way.”, Jungkook spoke standing up ready to leave.

“I-I don’t know. Thank you for catching him, but I thing I need some time.”

He nodded in understanding and followed another officer out of the room.

Speechless you sat back taking in his words.

“So what happens now?”, Yoongi asked next to you.

“Well we have enough evidence to hopefully put Viper away for the rest of his life and we’ll continue to take down any of his operations that are still standing.”, Namjoon responded.

“Okay and what about me?”, Yoongi asked.

“Oh well you have a few options. We can take you directly to a shelter now that it’ll be safer. Or since you are technically considered a rescued hybrid you do qualify for fostering for a while to help you reacclamate back into society.”

Yoongi was silent but you could see him nod his head out of the corner of your eye. His ears twitched in your direction searching for any kind of sound from you.

The realization hit you. Unfortunately the way the laws were setup a hybrid could only live longterm with their legal owner and since you were not his owner that it meant he could no longer stay with you. Your whole life you had been vehemently against hybrid ownership, but the thought of never seeing Yoongi again made your chest ache.

“Ooorrrr if there’s someone who happened to already want to adopt you then we can work that out immediately.”, Namjoon spoke providing you the option to step in.

Biting your lip you nervously looked around. If you were to adopt Yoongi that would go against everything you ever believed and you’d only be helping the need to continuously adopt out hybrids. But then again you did care about Yoongi like you never thought possible.

“You promised.”, Yoongi whispered next to you, he voice slightly cracking.

Staring at the ground because you didn’t have the courage to look him in the eyes you could sense his steps walking closer to Namjoon.

“I can go to a shelter. That’s fine.”, Yoongi suddenly spoke.

Surprised, Namjoon put on his best fake smile, “Sure thing. Let’s get you over there so you can get settled in then.”

Yoongi glanced at you before following quickly after Namjoon. You felt the familiar burning sensation of tears beginning to form.

“Hey, would you like to come stay back at my place. You can go back home in the morning.”,

Taehyung asked next to you.

Nodding your head you stood up and followed him out to his truck. Once back at his place Lilly ran out greeting you both with hugs. Taehyung went to take a shower while you followed Lilly into the kitchen. She offered you some tea as you sat down across from her.

“You love him don’t you?”, she asked smiling behind her teacup.

“Who?”

“Yoongi. I saw the way you were looking at him.”, she chuckled.

“I-I don’t know. I do care about him a lot.”

“So go get him. Bring him home with you tomorrow. That’s where you both want him to be.”

You shook your head, “No I don’t believe in hybrid ownership. It’s immoral and wrong.”

“Look Y/N, If you don’t adopt him then someone else surely will. You’re not doing him any favors. But I know how you feel. I used to have that same way of thinking. Then I met Tae. I didnt want to adopt him. I mean he was my boyfriend, but then we talked about it. What would happen if someone asked to see papers? Or godforbid he ended up in the hospital and I couldn’t prove anything. They’d take him away and I’d never see him again. At the end of the day it’s just a piece of paper. Nothing has to change between you and Yoongi.”

“I just…I don’t know. Of course I want Yoongi to live with me. I don’t want him to think of me as his owner though. I’m pretty sure I’ve got some feelings for him but what if he doesn’t feel the same?”

“Have you sat down and talked to him about it?”

You shook your head.

“Well that’s where you start. Then you make a decision from there. He seems like a smart guy. I bet he already knows what he wants.”

You took another sip of your tea before looking over at Lilly who was softly twisting her wedding raging.

“Did you ever worry about starting a relationship with Taehyung? Like how people would react?”

She laughed, “Oh yes of course! We both had our doubts when we first started dating. And I can still hear the whispers and see the fingers pointing whenever we go into town but we don’t care any more. We love each other and that’s all that matters. The only way to combat the discrimination is to prove to others that their hate can’t ruin you.”

Her words replayed in your head as you tossed and turned in bed trying to get some sleep. You wondered what Yoongi was up to. Was he sleeping well? Did they give him a nice meal? Had he thought about you at all?

After very little sleep you heard Taehyung and Lilly working in the kitchen. Quickly you packed what few belongings you had and headed downstairs. They greeted you with smiles and offered some breakfast. After you ate you thanked them for everything they had done for you and promised to keep in touch.

Taehyung helped you load your stuff into your car before walking back over to the drivers side where you were waiting.

“Alright you’re all packed up. Let me know when you get home safely.”

For some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to get in the car.

“Did you need anything else Y/N? I can get you some gas if you needed it.”

You shook your head before taking a deep breath., “So, umm… do you know where they took Yoongi last night?”

He flashed you the biggest boxy smiled you’d ever seen, “I was starting to get worried you’d never ask.”

After he punched in the address into your gps you began the drive there, quickly realizing you were on your way to Jins. Of course.

You sat in the parking lot for quite some time trying to work up the courage to go inside. You weighed the pros and cons of every possible scenario. As you sat there you saw Jimin, the Russian blue hybrid, happily running along with the young family who you were assuming had just adopted him. He smiled with pride as the families little girl clung onto him as they all loaded into their vehicle. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. That was the final push you needed to walk inside the shelter greeted by Jin immediately.

“Y/N I was wondering when you’d show up. I bet Namjoon $20 you’d be here before noon so looks like he’ll have to pay up next time I see him.”

You rolled your eyes, “So I’m guessing you know why I’m here then?”

“Yep, already have the paperwork filled out. Just need a few signatures.”, he said placing the forms in front of you.

“Can I see him first? I want to make sure he’s okay with all of this.”

Jin sighed but of course he brought you back down the hall to the same room he was in last time.

“Yoongi you have a visitor.”, Jin said punching in the lock code.

“I told you I don’t want to see anyone.”, he responded. The hoarseness in his voice broke your heart. He had clearly been crying for quite a while.

“Come on now. You can’t sit in the corner and sulk all day.”

“Jin please just leave me alone. I told you I don’t want to be adopted by anyone but Y/N.”

That little confirmation gave you the confidence you needed to step forward, “Well then let’s go sign some paperwork so we can go home.”

Yoongi spun around so fast he got disoriented tripping over his own feet. You giggled as you tried to help him back up.

“Y/N you really came back for me?”

“Of course I did. I promised didn’t I?”

“I thought you were against adoptions so I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”, he whispered.

You noticed he was wearing your hoodie. A small detail that made you smile.

“I think I can make an exception. As long as that’s what you want of course. And we agree to be equals.”

He didn’t even have to answer. When he walked over and wrapped his arms around you placing a soft kiss to your cheek, that was all the confirmation you needed.

[annwrites]

you need a hand with that, baby?

— pairing: billy hargrove x fem!reader

— type: ficlet

— summary: hurt from billy's constant hot & cold behavior toward you, you begin to pull away from him. refusing to lose you, he offers to open up to you, but only on his terms. he then wakes in the middle of the night to an unexpected sight beside him.

— tags: billy actually opening up and discussing his past and feelings toward you, at least a bit. angst.

— tw: drinking, childhood trauma, masturbation, fingering, handjob

— word count: 7,132

— a/n: oh yeah, it's all coming together. pun maybe intended.

find my other posts concerning billy here

When you enter the motel room—your hands full of a selection of things the motel was serving for breakfast—it’s to Billy falling over himself, trying to quickly pull on a pair of jeans, quietly cursing to himself.

And then he barely glances up to you as he finally yanks the zipper up. “There you are. Where the hell have you been?” He looks at you. “Do you have any idea how wor-”

A smile slowly forms on his lips, cutting short the lecture he was about to bestow upon you about never leaving his eyesight ever again unless you wanted to see him pissed...also again.

He settles his hands on his hips—still shirtless—giving you a long look-over before stepping closer and reaching up, twirling a teased curl around his finger. 

“Thought you stopped doing your hair like this weeks ago, doll?”

You shrug, setting the food down on the table, sitting. “I just wanted to try it out again.”

He sits, not bothering with a shirt for the moment being, and watches as you take a bite of a pastry, your eyes flitting to his chest for only a moment, before looking down to the buffet of food before you, cheeks warming.

He leans back, biting into an apple. “Really going to sit there and pretend like it has nothing to do with trying to impress me, honey?”

You glance up to him with furrowed brows, pouring a small bottle of milk into a paper bowl full of cereal. “Why would I want to do that?”

Each day he’s spent with you has made him more bold in his advances, even minimally, and today is no different. He finally just throws it out there. “I see the way you look at me. Especially when I’m like this. Half-dressed, or less. Or working on the Camaro. If you want to keep playing hard-to-get, sweetheart, we still have plenty days of driving before us, so we can play that game. Just know you won’t win.” He leans toward you, eyes boring into your own. “I will get what I’ve been waiting patiently for weeks for.”

You stop chewing, suddenly swallowing. You don’t want to admit you’d spent the better part of an hour teasing your hair and using so much Aquanet you’d nearly finished off the entire can until it was perfect just to see his reaction. But he could see right through you. 

You were tiring of this game to an extent—you pretending like you felt nothing toward him than annoyance, and him making sexual advances toward you every day.

It all amounted to nothing.

Maybe sometimes it did feel a bit exciting to be desired by another, but it wasn’t about you with him. It was about what you were: a collection of body parts for him to play with. He’d all but thrown as much in your face two nights ago. What was it he had said about you being just another pair of lips?

You suddenly regret doing your hair. 

Maybe you have been leading him on a bit lately. You hadn’t intended to. You’d done your utmost to ignore him in Hawkins—he was the one who refused to leave you alone. And being on the road together…it’d simply been about getting from point a to point b. Now…you tell yourself that’s still all it is. Both of you leaving behind nightmares to find new dreams out West.

Once you reach California, you’ll both go separate ways and never see one another ever again. Because that’s what people do: they leave.

You look back down to your food, stirring your now-soggy cereal, mood dampened. And Billy notices your sudden shift in mood, wondering what the fuck just happened.

You stand, throwing your food away. “I’m not hungry anymore,” you state, picking up your chair and going to sit by the window. 

He rolls his eyes. Women and their damn mood swings. “You on your rag or somethin’?”

Your head jerks back toward him. “What?”

“You’re sure as hell acting like it.”

You don’t bother arguing as you turn back to the window. “No.”

He takes a few more bites of his apple, watching you. He chooses to change the subject. “So, what’re we drinking tonight?”

You’d forgotten about that… You look back to him. “Can you even buy alcohol?”

He smirks. “I have a fake, honey.”

You raise a brow, not entirely surprised. “You do?”

He pulls his wallet from his back pocket, slipping the card out and tossing it to you.

You pick it up off the floor and look it over. ‘Billy Squier’, really? You look at him and he has a smirk on his face. 

“What, don’t tell me you don’t get the name?”

You walk it back over to him, extending the plastic card toward him. “You must’ve thought it was terribly clever, since you both share the same first name.”

He considers you for a moment, grabbing the card, tossing it onto the table, then yanking on your hand, pulling you into his lap.

You immediately try to stand up, but his arm wraps around your waist, holding you against him.

“Let go!”

He holds a piece of bacon up to your face. “Not until you’ve eaten something.”

You snub your nose at the offered food, so he just holds it closer. “I have no problem hand-feeding you, princess.”

You sigh dramatically and he uses that opportunity to shove the food into your mouth.

Once you’ve finished chewing do you try getting up again. 

“You can get up just as soon as you tell me what the fuck that was a minute ago.”

You roll your eyes. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you do,” he says casually, taking a bite of the pastry you hadn’t finished.

Feeling your temper growing shorter, you let him have it as you turn the least bit more back toward him so you can look at him. “Stop pretending like you give a damn about me. We both know what this is. That as soon as we get to California, we’re both going our separate ways. Nothing you do is going to change the fact that I refuse to fuck you before then.”

His jaw feathers. He knows you’re not trying to make him angry. You’re just hurt yourself from his vulgar behavior—his being hot and cold toward you. He decides he does not like the taste of his own medicine. You’d tried to connect with him more than once now, had tried to get him to open up like you had with him, but he’d shut it down at every turn. 

You were clearly beginning to grow tired of it. He doesn’t entirely blame you. When was the last time you’d had someone show the least bit of concern for you? Even his step-mom, at times, had tried to show him some kindness.

He reaches up and gently tucks a lock of hair behind your ear. “I’m nothing if not a man of my word, baby. I told you that you were stuck with me. I meant that. So I’ll wait for however long you want to keep holding out for. You take that to mean whatever you want it to.”

Your brows furrow and your hands come to rest atop his arm. “I… You…” You have no idea what you even want to say.

He holds another pastry up to you. “Muffin?”

Once breakfast was through—Billy refusing to let you off of his lap for the next hour; he’d taken his time eating and hadn’t tried to fight against the erection your constant squirming had caused, even if you’d ceased the moment you’d felt it—the two of you had gotten into his car and driven around town aimlessly, just sight-seeing, even if there wasn’t much to see here in the first place.

Some small Oklahoma town had to be one of the worst places to be stranded. He’d mused to himself that there was a reason it was known as a fly-over state.

You’d stayed mostly silent, even as he’d obnoxiously blared his rock music, trying to get your attention. 

He could feel your interest—attentions—toward him beginning to wane, and it was an unsettling feeling. So, he’d, at every red light and stop and yield sign, reached over and touched you. You thought it’d been just to get under your skin. For him, it was just a reminder that you were still there beside him. 

Once lunch time hit, he’d pulled into a family-owned diner, and even bothered holding your hand as the two of you went inside. You’d tried to tug away, but he’d held firm, twining his fingers between yours. 

Once the two of you were eating—you refusing to even look in his direction, but instead watching the view outside the window at your side—he’d tapped your foot under the table and you’d rolled your eyes, pulling your leg back toward you.

He’d sighed then. “Your hair looks nice, since I never told you. I was right: it makes you look hot.”

“Thanks.”

He’d frowned. “Fine. Since it’s clearly what you’re after—five questions. That’s all you get. So, ask whatever you want and I’ll answer.”

You’d looked to him in surprise. Shocked he was offering such a thing. You were sure he’d never bother to open up. Or, if he did, it would be only when he was ready and deigned to divulge bits and pieces of himself and his life to you here and there. But putting you in control of what he was to share? You weren’t sure what to make of that.

You sit back, idly stabbing at your garden salad. You look up to him then, expression serious. “Why did you pick on me so much back in Hawkins?”

He raises a brow, forearms resting atop the table. “Why do you think?” He gestures as if the answer should be obvious.

You look back down and shift, and you suddenly seem uncomfortable to him.

“I… I thought that… Maybe…” You look out the window and a pained look seeps into your eyes. He reaches over, having no idea why the fuck he’s doing it, and takes one of your hands in his. 

You look at him again. You let out a shaky breath, your hand trembling slightly in his firm grip. “Maybe something was wrong with me. I mean…my dad and the way he treated me. And then you show up and…” You swallow thickly.

That’s what you’d thought the last two months? That he’d been giving getting on your last nerve his every effort because what? You just attracted that kind of treatment—cruelty? Especially from men?

You’re now staring intently down at the table, lost in thought, like you’re somewhere else.

“Angel, look at me.”

You do, hesitantly. “You think I acted that way because I didn’t like you?”

You nod, hand shaking harder.

He leans in toward you. “It’s the very opposite. You should know that by now, honey.”

You blink at him. “You don’t actually like me, though.”

He raises a brow again. “Reading my thoughts now?”

“It’s…” You stop yourself short, pulling your hand back, settling it in your lap. You didn’t want to say this. Didn’t want to let on that you, at the very least, thought you felt something more toward him. Not when you knew how he thought of you. You never meant more toward anyone—they just did for you. Because you were always stupid enough to get attached.

“Go on.”

You clasp your shaking hands together. Opening up…you’d never been able to do that before. Had wanted to. With someone—anyone. But even just crying in front of your dad… That was an excellent way to get hit.

Your heart-rate quickens. You can’t do this. He’ll get angry, too. Just like the other night when he put his fist through a wall.

No man was a safe place for you.

“I don’t remember now.”

He stands then, sitting beside you, pressing his body against yours, arm behind you. “Talk to me, sweetheart,” he says lowly, cupping your cheek in his other hand.

You shake your head, your body trembling in fear.

He leans down toward you. “Please.”

You look at him, blinking back tears and his heart fucking breaks.

“What if you get mad at me?” You ask, voice breaking on the last word.

“I won’t.”

You open your mouth to speak, until the waitress interrupts the both of you with the check.

Billy lets out a low swear, snatching it from her.

When he looks back to you, the moment is gone. You having withdrawn further away from him.

It seems he’s not the only one with difficulties sharing parts of himself.

He presses a soft kiss to your cheek and you whimper. He pulls back, and you still don’t look at him.

After lunch, Billy pulls into a gas station. Getting you drunk probably isn’t the best idea right now, but it’s the only way he’s going to get you to talk—get himself to, even. 

So he heads inside, purchases a bottle of Crown Royal, and then comes back out, handing it to you.

You look it over for a moment, then look at him. “This is a stupid idea.”

He shrugs. “We made a deal, sweetheart. Don’t tell me you’re backing out now.”

You look back down at the bottle. “I only do stupid stuff when I’m with you.”

He smirks. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Once the two of you are locked in your motel room, you sit on the bed—him leaned back against the headboard, and you at the foot of it facing him. 

“So…what do we do now?” You ask nervously. 

“Could always play a drinking game. Or just start chugging until one of us is shit-faced. Or…” He grows quiet for a moment, then unscrews the lid, taking a long swig. “There’s a reason they call this shit liquid courage. Drink enough and you don’t feel afraid anymore. You want to talk, then we’ll talk. But I need to get my blood-alcohol level up first,” he says, taking another long drink.

He holds the bottle out toward you and you take it from him gingerly, taking a small sip. Your face screws and he laughs. 

“That’s disgusting.”

He shrugs. “It’s one of my favorites. But when it comes to booze, you don’t always drink it for the taste.”

You take another sip and it still tastes just as bad as the first time. You then feel heat pool between your legs and you flush. You look up to him and see he’s just waiting on you to make your next move. You briefly wonder if this is what alcohol does for everyone—cause this kind of reaction. And if so, if he’d really meant the ‘taking advantage of you’ comment from last night. 

You take another drink, then hand it back to him. 

“So, you want to continue what you were saying at the diner?” He asks, taking a sip.

You’d had so many thoughts racing through your mind afterward that you honestly couldn’t remember now. 

You’d asked him about his treatment toward you. He’d insinuated that he’d done it because he liked you and…you were going to imply you felt something for him, but were worried he saw you as just a sex toy.

You have half-a-mind to feign ignorance; that you’d forgotten, but you reach for the bottle again and take a long drink, swallowing multiple times, head beginning to feel light when you lower it down to your lap.

You smile to yourself and Billy only feels mild surprise that the liquor is working so quickly on you. With him having a good bit more body weight—not to mention tolerance—it would take him a few more drinks yet. 

You look up to him, caressing the glass bottle. “I think you were right.”

He raises a brow, making a beckoning motion with his finger for the bottle and you hand it to him. “Oh, yeah? What about?”

“Me being attracted to you.” Your words already sound a bit slurred.

He’s not taken aback in the slightest by your admittance. He was aware of your physical attraction awhile ago. Knew you were too, even if you didn’t want to admit it—or, rather, wanted to try and bury it. 

He drinks. “Read you like a book weeks ago on that, honey.”

You balk. “Weeks?” You’d not liked him back in Hawkins. Not in the least. Not his leather jacket or stupid car or dumb smirk. Not his deep voice or pretty eyes or swagger.

“Mhm.”

“Don’t humor yourself.”

He drinks again. "No?"

You stare at him for a moment and he smirks, thinking. He has an idea, but chooses to hold off for the moment being. He won't make this just another opportunity for him to try at getting in your pants. He's done enough damage to whatever was tentatively starting to grow between the two of you. He fears he's nearly killed it altogether.

This is him trying to dial it back.

You don't respond, instead reaching out for the bottle and he gives it to you. You drink, and then giggle lightly, and his lip twitches at the sound.

"So, the hell happened this morning when you started acting like a sour-puss all of a sudden?"

You look down at the bottle, tracing your finger along the comforter beneath you. You suddenly realize he's right about the whole liquid courage thing when you look up at him and suddenly don't feel so afraid anymore. "You make me feel safe sometimes. You've...done a lot for me. Even if you almost put a hole in my head..."

His jaw feathers. "I wouldn't have done it. Should've never raised a hand to you in the first place." He's quiet for a few seconds, then, "So I make you feel safe, huh?"

That was a first for him. The only person he ever had any responsibility in looking out for previously was Max, and he knew he scared the shit out of her. Not that he didn't do so on purpose at least half the time. They couldn't stand each other. He never pretended otherwise.

You pull the bottle into your lap and he licks his lips as you make a fist around the neck of it. "Mm, yeah."

"How's that?" He asks, unbuttoning his shirt halfway.

Your cheeks grow warm and you lower the bottle between your legs where a pulse is beginning to form. "I don't know. It's just the whole package, I guess."

Unable to help himself, he smirks before giving his reply. "You like my package, sweetheart?"

You groan, rolling your eyes, flopping back on the mattress, feet still planted atop it, knees bent.

He glances between your spread legs, growing hard.

You stare up at the ceiling. You're not drunk yet. And so you choose to revert back to more serious topics while you're still able to think straight.

"You said at the diner I could ask you questions. I still had four to go."

His eyes trail over your pert breasts. "How about we make things a bit more interesting?"

You lull your head to the side, looking at him, his shirt now fully undone. "How?"

His lip twitches, eyes growing dark. "I answer, but once I have, you have to remove a piece of clothing."

You roll your eyes back to the ceiling, sighing dramatically.

He laughs.

"Only if I get to choose what item."

His eyes widen. "Wait, really? You'll do it?"

You shrug. "If it's the only way."

"What's your first question, doll?"

You consider what you want to know the most about him. What best to start with. "Tell me about your mom."

He considers whether seeing you undressed is really all that important to him now. "Take another drink."

Maybe if he can get you plastered, you won't remember any of this conversation come morning.

Not understanding why he wants you to, you sit up a bit, swallowing another sip, then lie back down.

He reaches forward, taking the bottle from you and taking multiple pulls before leaning his head back, closing his eyes. "She..." His brow twitches as he imagines her on that beach, watching him in the water, a loving look in her eyes. "She tried with him. But I guess, like you, there was only so much she could take." He's unsure whether he's referring to the situation with your dad, or the other night on the interstate. "He was always fighting with her—accusing her of cheating and shit, not that I'd blame her—hitting her, pushing her around. I guess one day she'd had enough and hit the road. Maybe she just forgot me. Or didn't want me anymore. Maybe she only saw him when she looked at me. Who the fuck knows? She got out, I didn't. Until now. End of story."

You look at him and see that he's now staring up at the ceiling, his eyes a bit bloodshot, nose red. You want to reach out and touch him—give him a comforting gesture, but fear it will only make him feel worse. So you instead extend one of your legs, lying it atop his own.

He looks at you then, smirking, and he slides one of his hands along your calf. "So, what piece is comin' off first?"

You wiggle your foot that's currently resting atop his thigh. He shakes his head. "Of course it's something boring."

He slips your sock off, tossing it on the floor, then pauses, looking at you and a wide smile breaks out on his face as he grabs your ankle in one hand and starts tickling your foot with his other.

You squirm, letting out panicked laughs. "S-stop. N-noooo, please, aha!"

He lets up after a minute, hand sliding along your smooth leg again, chuckling to himself. "Three left to go, sweetheart."

For your next question, you tread as lightly as you possibly can. You make your voice light, soft. "You hate your dad for what he's done to you and your mom. For what he is—who. I guess I understand why you're so angry all the time. But why act similarly? Picking on me at school by pulling my hair...and what happened the other night... Is it just because that's the only example you've ever had set of how a man acts?"

He stays quiet, thinking. He begins to massage your foot with both his thumbs. Then, "I haven't been this open—vulnerable—with someone since before my mom left." He glances up to you. "I was ten then."

He looks back down. "I'm a man now. Not some kid. And a man doesn't cry or broadcast his shit to the world. He gets angry and fights back."

"Is that really what you think? That's how your dad—mine—are. Do you think they're real men?"

He stares at you then, hands stilling.

You wonder if he'd ever thought about it like that before. You continue. "You know what they say: you catch more flies with honey than vinegar."

He smirks. "Oh, I intend to get myself some honey eventually."

"Do you ever take anything seriously?"

"Not if I can help it," he says, taking the bottle and drinking again. "That your way of asking me to be sweet on you, baby?"

You reach for the bottle again, taking a drink yourself, wiggling your other foot.

He pulls your sock off, tossing it next to the other one. He doesn't tickle you this time. "Two more."

You're both thankful and not that he'd only offered you five. Had he done more, you'd be naked before you were done. And you were sure at that point he'd cut the questioning short, neither of you able to concentrate then. But you have so many things to ask—him still a bit of an enigma to you, or, rather, how he works.

You want to ask about his past with surfing, want to know how many girls he's been with—but know that question is far too juvenile and will make your feelings too obvious. You want to ask about his fascination with cars, what his favorite subject in school was, what about rock music appeals to him so much, maybe even ask about his step-sister. Instead, you ask about yourself.

"Why me?"

He begins rubbing your other foot. "Why you what, beautiful?"

That was a new one. And 'princess' earlier.

"You said it yourself the other night: you could've had any girl you wanted at Hawkins. I mean, I saw the way they all looked at you. So why me?"

He shrugs. "Like you said earlier, I guess it's just 'the whole package'."

You shake your head. "Try again, James Dean."

He laughs then, resting his head back, fighting the smirk on his lips. The last thing he needs is you thinking you're funny and it going to your head.

He looks down at you, the expression on his face now soft. "I only had eyes for you since day one, baby. There was just somethin' about you, I guess. Honestly, I think it was the fact you never tried to get my attention." He smirks. "Every man likes a chase. And I'll be damned if you haven't given me one. A few times."

He thinks about chasing you down on the interstate the other night.

"What about Angie?"

He raises a brow. "Were you jealous?"

You don't respond, just continue looking at him.

He shrugs. "It was what it was. I just did it to piss you off. Try to, at least. But once I had her in the backseat and we got down to business, there was only one girl on my mind, and it sure as hell wasn't her."

You blame your sudden sense of dizziness on the alcohol. "Oh."

"That surprise you?"

"Yes." You reach for the bottle and he hands it to you, your fingers brushing against one another as you take a few gulps. Your head really starts to spin then.

He leans forward, running his hand up your thigh. "Time to take something else off, darlin'."

You hand him the bottle, and with nervous hands, reach down to the hem of your shirt and pull it off, balling it up and tossing it at him.

"Now we're talkin'," he says, throwing your shirt across the room.

You shrug. "You already saw me in a bathing suit."

He smirks. "Context, doll."

His eyes glance down to your shorts. "Last one."

You're silent, for a long while, Billy taking a few sips from the bottle.

And then you speak.

"When we get to California...what happens?"

"I've been thinking about getting back into surfing again. I used to be really good at it. But that was almost a decade ago now. Might take a bit of practice to get back to where I was on the board." He shrugs. "Maybe I start competing and do odd jobs on the side until I maybe make it into something full-time."

You stay quiet.

"But that's not really what you're asking, is it?" He says.

You look at him.

"You're asking what happens to us when we get there."

You look at the wall. "No, I wasn't."

He clicks his tongue. "Thought we were being honest tonight."

You don't say anything, nor do you look at him.

His lip twitches. "You could always be my own personal cheerleader."

You look at him. "Would you even want that?"

He shrugs. "Someone's gotta do it."

A small smile comes onto your lips. "What's my rate-of-pay?"

His brow raises. "How about I just pay you in sexual favors? Your uniform will be covered."

Your face heats, remembering that comment. Stupid girl.

"Yeah, I still haven't forgotten about that, by the way."

"You wouldn't, would you?"

"No way in hell." He states matter-of-factly.

He then leans over you and reaches down, unbuttoning your jean shorts, slowly easing down the zipper and when you feel your body's reaction to it—rather, the reaction it's been having to him for awhile now—you desperately don't want him to pull them down. But a deal is a deal. And you know he won't be letting you out of this one either.

He hooks his fingers under the waistband and begins tugging them down your hips, sliding them off of your legs and he keeps his eyes trained on yours as he tosses them to the side.

And then he looks down and your face feels like it's boiling when his eyes grow wide at the sight before him.

He looks up to you then, removing his eyes from your panties that're now soaked through and sticking to you.

And for the first time in all the while you've known him, he's speechless.

But you are as well. So you simply push your thighs together, drawing your feet toward you.

He then shakes his head, letting out a low curse. "I should've let you ask more questions."

Once the two of you have showered and are in bed for the night—you'd gotten delivery for the night, Billy refusing to let you put your clothes back on all the while as you ate, and you pretending not to see his erection the entire time—you lied down in bed.

In truth, Billy had gotten off in the shower after your little drinking game—unable to think of anything else but the lovely sight between your legs, all for and from him. He'd not been quiet when he came, either. And when he emerged naked, going to lay down, he'd noticed a wet spot on the seat you got up from as you silently went to bathe.

It'd taken some time for him to calm down enough to sleep. His mind and body both, wondering if he shouldn't have taken a cold shower instead.

You, however, lied awake next to him, your own body still on fire, head still swimming, replaying the sight of him removing your shorts over and over again. The look in his eyes, his fingers pulling down the zipper, the veins in his hands as he gently yanked them off of you, curls falling over his shoulders, the scent of his cologne. The sight of him coming naked out of the bathroom. The sound of him orgasming in the shower.

You feel dampness in your panties again and you glance to him, still fast asleep. You then make what may very-well be a stupid decision and slip your hand beneath the waistband of them and begin to circle your clit with your fingers and your body jerks in response. You honestly couldn't remember the last time you'd not only touched yourself, but felt turned-on in general.

Living in that house with him...it killed all sense of hope and happiness and normality for you.

You look to Billy, your eyes trailing down his bare muscled chest, to his waist—his privates the only part of him that's covered, and barely at that, with a top sheet—and you slide your fingers between your wet folds and bite your lip.

You glance to his face, his lips, and circle your clit again, closing your eyes.

You spread your legs the least bit wider, closing your eyes, softly panting as you cup one of your breasts in your free hand.

Billy had been just on the verge of sleep when he'd heard you whimper beside him. His first thought had been that you were having a nightmare—stomach dropping at the thought of it being about him, about the other night—and then freezes when he looks at you and sees you touching yourself.

Your hand is in your panties, your other touching your breast, your lips slightly parted as you quietly moan.

His erection quickly returns to him then and he slowly turns onto his side. "You need a hand with that, baby?"

Your ministrations cease immediately, your eyes shooting open and head jerking to the right, looking at him. You open your mouth to reply and at first nothing comes out. Then, "I-I'm sorry."

He raises a brow, moving closer to you, erection brushing against your thigh. "For what, darlin'?"

You stare up at him.

"So, do you? Maybe I should just call in that offer for a sexual favor now. What do you think?"

You feel like your brain is suddenly misfiring as you actually consider saying yes. It's the alcohol. You're not thinking clearly. Not as you usually would without it in your system. But the thought of him touching you like that... It ignited something in you just when he looked at you.

He props himself up on his left forearm, his right hand coming to rest atop your stomach, then slowly moving lower and lower, his eyes trained on yours all the while.

Once his hand is just above the waist of your panties, you slowly pull your own hand out, resting it beside you, your heart now pounding.

He takes that as permission and slips his own between your legs, looking down.

"Fuck," he swears, looking back to you. "Are you always this wet?"

You consider telling him 'only with you', knowing that would most certainly get you a reaction. "S-sometimes."

His fingers explore between your hot folds, erection coming to settle atop your right thigh. It's only then you realize just how lengthy he truly is.

You turn more onto your right side, facing him and he slowly slips one finger inside of you, groaning at the tight feel, the slick sensation of you.

He then slowly—very slowly—leans down, pressing his lips gently to your own. And you let him this time. You kiss him back. And his heart fucking jumps.

Something it's never done with a girl before. The last time it had? The first time he set eyes on you in the parking lot at school as you walked inside. He'd known right then and there it was over for him.

He eases another finger into you and circles your clit with his thumb and you gasp against his mouth, then wrap your left arm around his neck, pulling your body against his own, and you begin to kiss him more fervently.

He circles that sensitive bundle again and again and slips his tongue in your mouth and you whimper, your own coming to dance with his.

He arches his strong fingers upward and you pull away, sighing, your lips brushing against his own.

"That feel good, honey?"

You nod, crushing your lips back to his own.

He massages that ledge inside of you and your body shudders and he smirks, continuing to kiss you, barely believing this is finally happening. That he's getting to touch you like this and you're allowing him to—enjoying it.

The entire time he'd been at the drive-in with Angela, all he'd been able to think about was you and Harrington in his car doing what he was doing with her.

What if he was your first time? What if you fell for him? What if he made you his instead? What if he lost any chance with you for good while Steve became your whole fucking world?

And for the first time, while having sex, he'd nearly been unable to finish. So, he'd closed his eyes, flipping her over, imaging it was you. And he'd finished almost-instantly then. Had damn-near yelled your name as he filled his condom.

And when he came back to reality, his erection had softened quickly as he pulled out and away from her, wanting—wishing—for someone else instead.

You'd never know the relief he'd felt—utter fucking joy—when you'd let it slip that you were a virgin, that you didn't even like Harrington like that.

And then he'd felt secure in knowing he didn't have any competition. Not for the moment being. You could still be his.

He moves his lips to your neck and you ease your head back, whimpering at the feeling of him licking and kissing and gently biting your hot sensitive skin. He then trails wet kisses to your ear and speaks lowly into it—you clenching around him when he does.

"When you come, sweetheart, I want you to fucking scream my name. I want half this damn place to hear it." He crushes his lips back to your own, tongue flicking against yours and you spread your legs wider, his fingers diving deeper.

Just as his arm begins to grow tired, your body jerks, your pants becoming more frequent, harder.

"That's it, baby, come for me. C'mon, sweetheart, you're almost there."

You begin to rock your hips against his hand, whimpering at the feel, clit growing more and more sensitive.

"Mm, please." You look up to him, kissing him again. Then, "Ah, right there."

His fingers work rapidly, rubbing and plunging in and out of you, your body responding accordingly.

Both of you are sweating now, panting, hearts pounding. His excitement grows knowing he'll be the first man to give you an orgasm. That he's the first to have his hand between your legs. The first for, well, a lot of things. And even more to come, he hopes.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, your breaths coming in shallow gasps and he knows he has you right on the edge. "C'mon, baby. C'mon, fuckin' come for me. That's it."

And then, "Billy! Ah, mm." You practically scream his name as you finish, your walls clenching rapidly around him, his callused hand now soaked in you.

He chuckles excitedly. "That's my fuckin' girl," he says between satisfied laughs, fingers still plunging away between your legs, until your hand comes down to grip his wrist, his movements ceasing.

He slips his fingers out of you, resting his forearm atop his naked hip as he looks down at you and you up at him from under hooded lids, lips swollen, face flushed, hair messy, the look on your face that of satisfaction.

"Thank you," you say shyly.

He presses a long kiss to your lips, then brushes some hair behind your ear. "No, thank you."

And then you do something unexpected: you take his throbbing erection in your hand and stroke him once, then twice.

He looks down, then back up to you. "Yeah?" He asks, brow raised, wondering if maybe you're just curious about touching him there after feeling it pressed against you so many times.

And then you nod, stroking a few more times.

He then wraps his fist around yours. "A bit tighter, baby. Yeah, no, tighter. You're not going to hurt me, sweetie." Then, "Fuck, that's fuckin' perfect. Just like that, angel."

You press your lips back to his, kissing him more softly this time, until his left arm snakes under your neck, gripping the back of your head, tugging at your hair and he devours your lips with his own. His other arm wraps around your waist, pulling you to him again, then slides down your thigh, lifting it onto his waist while you continue stroking away.

He squeezes your ass-cheek, then gives it a light slap, slipping his hand under your panties, keeping his hand there, squeezing and massaging as you continue to get him off.

Your strokes are a bit sloppy, and unsure, but he ignores that, just enjoying the feeling of being in your grip, of you bothering to return the favor. He then reaches down, pushing your t-shirt up and it's only then that he notices you're wearing one of his—the front design the cover of Def Leppard's Pyromania album. It only turns him on all the more.

Once your breasts are visible, he cranes his neck down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking, then rolling it between his teeth and you moan his name.

He trails his tongue along your chest, taking your other nipple in his mouth, precum dripping onto your hand.

He begins kissing upwards, to your neck, then back down again. God, he's never felt this fucking turned-on before.

His cock twitches in your hand, then does it again and he knows he's close. He should've gotten up and grabbed a towel, but it would've risked ruining the moment.

His hips jerk, sliding through your grip, and then he calms. He closes his eyes, pressing his forehead to your own, his right hand cupping your cheek now. "I'm so fuckin' close, baby. I'm about to cum. Fuck, keep going. Jesus Christ."

You begin to stroke faster and faster, and then he pushes you onto your back, taking himself in his hand as he comes all over your stomach in hot sticky spurts, groaning all the while, hips bucking, wishing he was doing this between your legs instead.

Once he's calmed—his cock softening—does he lie down for a moment next to you, trying to catch his breath. He then smiles up at the ceiling and starts to laugh.

You look at him and he swings his arms over his stomach. "Woo! Fuck yeah, baby!"

He looks at you, then leans over you again, kissing you, tongue licking your lips, dancing against your own. And then he pulls back, smiling down at you, curls hanging down, framing his face, and he flashes you a smile, showing his brilliant white teeth. "I'll go grab you a towel, sweetheart."

You nod, smiling yourself, pecking him on the lips.

You watch as he walks to the bathroom and he smirks, feeling your eyes on his ass.

You hear the sound of water, him washing up quickly, and then he returns with a damp towel and begins to wipe you down.

He then tosses the towel on the floor and climbs on top of you, resting his forearms on your breasts and his chin atop his arms, looking up at you. "God, that was fuckin' perfect."

You smile. "So I did a good job?"

You'd been afraid he would've eventually gotten bored, or tired of how long things were taking, but he'd not complained once.

He then scoots higher, resting on his right forearm, left hand smoothing hair away from your face as he hovers over you. "Yeah, baby, you did."

He kisses you again, then scoots back down a bit, resting his cheek between your breasts and your arms come to wrap around his warm shoulders. And then you move your hands higher, tangling in his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp.

And he falls asleep in your arms.

[batsythoughts]

hiii, can we have a second part for the yandere! bruce with baby trapping 🥹 maybe some pregnancy kink

Of course you all can! I'm always willing to do continuations of any works I do or requests if you all ask nicely and I feel comfortable with it! And sorry this took so long to write. A lot of family stuff came up and I needed to take a step back for a while.

Part 2 of Yandere! Bruce Wayne and baby trapping!

As stated in the request, there is smut under the cut. Minors please do not interact with the post.

It had barely been a week since Bruce and you found out you were pregnant

Alfred had been discreetly informed so he could go buy your prenatal vitamins without any of the kids finding out

You all had agreed to do a reveal to them fairly quickly so they didn't find out themselves by accident

After some consideration, the both of you decided on a cake with a simple message

Bruce even got you to agree to let the message say 'It wasn't Jason'

"It's a bet the kids have on who would have a baby next. It's a family joke we have that's been going on."

You simply smiled at the explanation while saying it was okay as long as it was in a certain color

The next night a dinner, before anyone could get up from the table, Bruce said that Alfred made a special dessert for everyone

They all looked at one another in confusion as they tried to think of what the occasion was for a 'special dessert' to be made

When Alfred came in and set the cake in the center of the table, the kids stared at the written frosting with blank expressions

Jason was the first to react while throwing his hands up with a cheer

Dick started out with a huge grin before his eyes widen as he stared at Jason with disbelief all over his face

Tim and Damian shared a look for a moment before giving their congratulations

Cass smiled while looking between you and Bruce while asking multiple questions regarding the baby

Bruce smiled at the sight of all the people he loved celebrating the surprise of a new addition to the family

He gently took your hand in his while watching you happily eating the slice of cake Alfred cut for you

The first trimester was definitely interesting for the whole family with the random nausea, food cravings, and mood swings

Everyone worked together to help you deal with it as best as they were able to

Got a craving for something in the middle of the night that's not in the manor? Alfred told everyone and now Red Hood is in the store grabbing two of everything.

Your back hurting a little after getting off work? Tim has the heating pad on the couch for you as Cass gets a scented bath bomb that you might like so you can relax after dinner.

Randomly started crying? Dick and Alfred both stand nearby to hear you let out cries of whatever caused it

Damian would even offer to make you drinks that he had been taught were beneficial to both you and the fetus

Bruce was pleased that they were being so accepting of the situation instead of thinking you had been the one to cause the situation

The best thing though was a weekly ritual that only Bruce got to be apart of

An hour before he would go on patrol every Friday, you both would sit on the bed as his hands lightly caressed your stomach to carefully feel your body change over time

Even in the beginning when there wasn't anything to feel, Bruce enjoyed reliving the fact that he had gotten you pregnant successfully to keep you around

But he was still felt like you could do a bit more to be committed to the family

He wanted you to quit your job so you could be focused on him, the kids, and the baby with all your energy

Besides, he had more than enough money that you wouldn't have to worry about providing for yourself ever again

At first Bruce suggested going part time so you weren't straining your body too much while the baby was developing

You were hesitant at first, but relented and said you would ask your boss if it would be possible

It wasn't entirely what he wanted, it was just the start until you gave birth

You were beginning to tell the difference in your body after the two month mark with a slight firmness in your stomach

Bruce felt ecstatic as the days got closer to your due date

He did become concerned about the fact that you were showing a bit more than what was normal with all that he read

He even brought it up with the doctor at one of your appointments to ask if everything was alright

As they got the machine ready for the ultrasound, the doctor and nurse assured Bruce that everything should be alright with your hormone levels

The doctor began asking questions on how you were feeling and any issues you were experiencing

As they moved the wand over your stomach, the nurse stopped to look at the screen with a concerned look before her expression shifted to surprise

You became worried while asking what was wrong as the doctor focused on the screen before she got a similar look

"There's, um... there's two."

The screen was turned to face you both better as she pointed out the very close, but individual little blobs

You and Bruce stare in shock before you squeeze his hand with a soft coo

The doctor made sure to give you plenty of copies of the pictures before you left and made the next appointment

Bruce felt proud that you were giving him not one, but two children that would bind you to him for the rest of your lives

You told everyone that evening the news and they were thrilled by the prospect as well

Bruce had even signed up for a 'Baby and Me' class that meet up weekly

Of course that meant that everyone went and sat around you to retain any and all information that was being said to the class

A few of the other participants were judgemental and would whisper about how it should only be the expecting mother and father in the class

All the kids were quick to speak up and shut that down real quick with the woman who started it

"Wow Debra, that's really great advice. I'm sure your husband is proud of how outspoken you are."

"Speaking of husbands, where's your husband Debra?"

"Oh, he's working late like he always does? He must be worried about providing for you and the baby."

"I'm sure it's a very happy and loving marriage you have with him."

"But how long will it last, Debra?"

You quickly told the kids to behave while Bruce held back his smirk as the class finally began

Everyone paid attention to everything that was told, even asking questions about how to assist you through the whole process

Bruce was very proud of all his kids for being so willing to learn along with you during this stage in your life

As the weeks passed, the twins were growing healthy and making themselves known to the world

Their kicks profound enough that Bruce could sit on the other side of the couch and see the bumps they would make

He loved it most went you put headphones on your stomach while playing a small list of songs you made for the twins

"They can feel the vibrations! It is proven to be beneficial for development."

He only smiled while kissing the side of your head

Bruce had even made sure to have the baby room ready for the birth long before they were due

It did take a bit more time to keep the room neutral with the fact it was agreed to be a surprise of what you were having

But he made it work terrifically for whatever combination of twins you were carrying

With the help of Dick and Jason, of course. They refused to let Bruce try to put together the cribs and changing table that would hold their little siblings

It was always so adorable how you would go in to see the progress and coo at how everything was coming along

You of course gave an opinion on where you wanted things to go and the boys would move them without question or complaint

There was already two dressers full of baby clothes that all of them had picked out when going out shopping for any reason

Bruce adored it most that you had gotten a few maternity dresses that were elegant enough to wear to any galas he would attend

The looks that you would get from most of the people there didn't bother him

Despite the different reasons for the stares, he felt proud of the fact that everyone knew that you would always be his no matter who would try to change it

It became even better when he got a message from Alfred one day saying you had returned to the manor not long after you had went to work one day

He was worried when he finally returned that night to find you sulking in your shared room eating a bowl of fruit while wrapped in multiple blankets

Bruce hated the sight of you upset, but he hated that you seemed to be purposely hiding away the bump he was loving more every day

He sat down beside you as he waited for you to tell him what had happened at your job that morning

It took a few minutes before you finally mumbled out that you had impulsively quit your job

While he felt overjoyed, Bruce played the part of being concerned while asking what had occurred to cause it

You took another bite of your fruit while leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder

"One of the guys put his hand on the upper part of my stomach despite me telling them all not to do that. Then he asked me if... if my milk had come in."

Bruce clenched his jaw before apologizing for what happened, but gentle assured you that everything would be okay with him still providing for all of you

It took a few minutes of Bruce reassuring you that your actions were valid to preserve your self respect from the unsavory coworker you had

You gave a weak nod after a couple minutes before leaning further against for comfort

He held you to his chest while softly kissing your head and whispering affirmations to lift your spirits

That evening everyone noticed that you were feeling upset, but didn't push for an explanation so you could tell them if you felt comfortable

You gave a tired smile to the whole table while saying it was just a bad day at work and they shouldn't worry themselves

They all let you have a quiet night without arguments over anything until they went down to the cave to get ready for patrol

Bruce watched you prepare for bed with worry as you absent-mindedly went through your routine without a word

Before you could get into the bed, Bruce gently lead you over to the full length mirror he got for you that stood in one corner

He stood behind you as he rested his hands at the swell of your stomach while swaying back and forth

He placed kisses along your neck as his fingers danced over the bump while whispering against your skin

"You're such a good momma." "Doing your best for them already." "Providing me with the greatest gift."

Bruce continued with his praise as he watched the reflection until you finally cracked a smile

He carefully turned you around before connecting his lips to yours before guiding you over to the bed

He made sure you were completely settled in for the night before giving you a kiss and promising to return safely

The night had went by with only a few attempted muggings and a failed robbery of a gas station before the whole family returned

Bruce took a shower in the locker room and changed like every night so you wouldn't wake up from the noise

Bruce had tried to remain as quiet to not disturb you as he entered the room, but he saw that you were turning around under the comforter with soft whines

He thought you were just having a weird dream until you pushed up from the bed with a groan before meeting his gaze

He almost asked what was wrong as he walked towards the bed, but the words didn't need to be said with the way you bite your lip to keep back a pout

Now, you and Bruce had sex a few times since the pregnancy had started, but after you began showing he didn't want to potentially cause you any discomfort

He wouldn't deny the fact that he thought you were beautiful during the day doing any little thing

However, staring at you in the his bed with the light of the moon streaming in through the window and accentuating your features while one of the straps of your nightgown sliding of as you give him that pleading look

Bruce couldn't get in the bed quick enough after taking a moment to admire how breathtaking you were in that moment

He gently pushed you back to lay down on the mattress before lifting up the lower part of your sleepwear

He couldn't bother to remove your underwear as he pulled it to the side and immediately latched onto your clit

The startled moan you let out was a melody Bruce never wanted to forget as he passionately worked his tongue over the small nub

Wasting no time, he moved one hand to rest on your hip while the other went to prepare you

You laced your fingers in his hair the moment he pushed a finger into you for the first time in months

He slowly moved his hand as he listened to the way your breath hitched with each whine you gave before pushing a second finger in

He had only been at it for a minute before you gave a small cry and came undone by his fingers and tongue

Bruce smiled to himself as he worked you through the spasms before trailing kisses up your stomach, leaving a few attentive one underneath your breasts, until finally reaching your mouth

He didn't even give you time to protest the kiss as his abdomen pressed against you while lining up at your entrance

He made sure to go slow as he felt you shake slightly under him with your nails softly digging into his back

He kept his thrusts shallow as he pulled away to watched your expression as you let out small whines of pleasure

He moved one hand to rest on the side of your stomach as the other held your chin to keep you looking at him

He groaned at the way you tightened around him as he felt a small kick come from your lower stomach

He sweetly kissed you again before pulling away enough to speak with a smirk spread across his face

"Oh, aren't you just a beautiful momma?" "Still able to take me so well after so long." "I should just keep you like this for the rest of our lives."

Bruce gave a small laugh at the last thought as he gave one final thrust before you tightened around his cock

He almost let a small taunt out about you enjoying the idea of him already keeping you there, but just smiled as he trailed a finger over your cheek

It didn't take much longer for Bruce to find his own release with a deep groan

He waited a moment before pulling out and going to the bathroom to get a warm washcloth

He affectionately shook his head when he saw you had already fallen back to sleep with a calm grin on your face

He gently wiped the mess between you thighs away before tracing his fingers over you stomach for a a few moments

He quickly got rid of the cloth before putting on a fresh pair of boxers and slipping under the covers

Bruce moved his arms around you while laying down to get a few hours sleep himself

The next couple weeks, Bruce made sure to shower you with as much affection as he thought you deserved

You and the others simply assumed it was because you were steadily getting closer to your due date

But he did it to help build the emotional vulnerability you would ultimately go through after giving birth

He knew you would go through a strong surge of hormones that would cause you to rely on him even more

It all going to be for the best in the end because Bruce just needs you to realize how much he truly loves you and will always be there for you

What better way is there to convince someone to agree to marry you?

Bruce already had a ring picked out and the speech he would give on what each of the kids would do to be included in the wedding

He would still have you pick out all the important things that you wanted like the flowers, dress, location and every other aspect you wanted

But he had to be patient until after the twins had been born for at least a few months before asking you

But to get you to be apart of the family more than you already were? Oh, Bruce was nothing but determined.

[thefallennightmare]

Based on the small talk few days ago... I found a mom on tiktok that posts postpartum depression and postpartum rage content, and I feel like this topic is not talked about enough. She mentions in her videos when she's home alone so the dad can't help her, which made think od Noah being away on tour, while the reader struggles. Could you do a hc about it?😊 Thank you🤍

@thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion @flowery-mess @tashka

Tears burned at your eyes but you couldn't cry.

Not now.

Your one-month-old son had been crying all afternoon and you knew that you needed to be strong for him.

It was only the two of you home so it was up to you to make sure he was fed and taken care of.

But the sound of his crying was like nails on a chalkboard and you felt frozen.

Sitting in the middle of your bed while your son cried in his bassinet next to your bed.

It was the middle of the night and he was still uncomfortable. You fed him, changed him, rocked him, but nothing seemed to help soothe him.

Your hands couldn't stop shaking because of the anger you felt.

It wasn't at your baby. It never was.

It also wasn't at Noah who wasn't here with you because you knew it wasn't his fault.

Bad Omens were on tour and this was something you knew would happen while he was gone.

But that didn't stop the way your blood boiled as your son continued to scream and cry.

You were on the last resort.

The cry-it-out method.

Although, it had been thirty minutes of this method and it did not seem to help.

Thankfully, Noah's roommates were sleeping upstairs while your room was on the main floor.

Noah and you were in the process of buying your own home but were still living with Jesse and Michael.

You refused to ask them for help though because this wasn't their responsibility.

Michael and Jesse both returned from their own tours earlier in the day and you knew they had to be exhausted.

You promised them that your son wouldn't keep them up, he'd sleep easy tonight.

Here you were, crying along with your son because you failed that promise.

And you failed Noah.

You were a new mom and you wanted to prove you could do it on your own when he wasn't here.

But Noah's voice spoke in your mind, those seven words he said before he left for your replaying.

"You can ask them for help, angel."

Softly cuddling your crying son to your chest, you dialed Noah's number and waited for him to answer the Facetime call.

"Angel?" He asked while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Everything alright?"

You knew he could see the tears on your face and hear your crying son so you knew you couldn't lie.

"No," you shook your head. "I can't get him to stop crying. I've tried everything! I feel myself getting so angry at hearing him cry. It's never been this bad before."

Noah quickly sat up in his bunk. "Did you ask Michael or Jesse if they can watch him so you can get some sleep?"

When you were silent, he sighed. "Angel, you know they're more than willing to help you. It's okay to ask for help."

"But I should be able to do this myself," you cried while rocking your son, who seemed to have calmed down a bit at hearing Noah's voice.

"I know. You have. More than enough times. But sometimes, you need a break. And that's okay."

You nodded, knowing he was right.

But before you could say anything, there was a soft knock on your bedroom door and Michael stepped inside.

"Everything alright?" He asked, not looking like he was sleeping.

Guilt began to eat away at you, thinking it was your fault, but Noah immediately could tell where your mind was headed.

"Y/N, let Michael take Y/S/N so you can get some sleep. It's alright."

Michael agreed with a nod. "I can't sleep because of the jet lag. I was going to warm up some left-over pizza and watch a movie."

Letting go of those reigns that you held on so tightly, you carefully handed over your son to Michael.

"Thank you," you blew out a shaky breath.

Noah's voice came through the speaker of your phone. "Thanks, man, I owe you one."

Michael snorted. "Please. I will gladly take any time I can to spend with my nephew."

"Nothing scary!" You called after Michael.

Once you were alone, the room now eerily silent, you gave Noah a weak smile into your phone.

"I can't wait till you're back home," you admitted.

"Me too, angel. Just one more week. Maybe we can talk about getting you on some meds to help with the postpartum depression."

You eagerly nodded. "Please. Because it's not fair to our son for him to have a mom that thinks this way."

Noah frowned. "It's also not fair to you, Y/N that you keep going through this. It's alright to ask for help."

"I know," you admitted with a nod. "I love you."

Noah blew you a kiss. "I love you too, angel. Get some sleep."

[ladamedusoif]

Tempered in the Fire - Part Four

See the Series Masterlist for complete content warnings, historical event information, and series notes.

Cross-posted to AO3. Follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications for updates.

Pairing: Blacksmith!Din Djarin x F! Reader

Summary: Ireland, almost a decade after the rebellion of 1798. You are an unusual woman: married, but alone; a widow, with no certainty her husband is dead. When your local blacksmith is badly injured in an accident and unable to work, you have no choice but to travel to the next forge, run by a man of few words whose uncertain origins and dark complexion make him stand out among the locals. You are immediately intrigued by this mysterious, taciturn figure - and the striking little boy he’s taken as his apprentice.

Word Count: 7.1k

Rating: Explicit; 18+ MDNI (chapter; series)

Content (chapter specific): Blacksmith!Din AU; historical setting; angst; smut; violence; unprotected PiV sex; oral sex (F and M receiving); racist (anti-Traveller) language; period-typical misogyny; references to domestic physical, emotional, and sexual abuse; references to family loss and death; abusive and derogatory language; strong language.

Translations for the Irish language provided throughout as needed, though I have not translated mo chuisle as a term of endearment (it literally means 'my pulse', more usually used as 'my love').

A/N: I am so, so sorry for the gap between chapters here and am grateful to the readers who've been so patient! Thanks, too, as ever, to @paulmescal-s for working through the gnarlier bits of this story with me and being such a great sort-of beta.

In the future, after many years had passed, you would find it hard to remember exactly how much time you had together, at the forge, before the hard reality came knocking at your door. Those days and nights of domestic happiness could never have been enough.

By day, you keep house, sew, and bake. Each morning, you do some basic reading and writing with Gró, or take the little boy around the hedgerows and trees at the boundary of the property, teaching him the names of plants and animals. Din had explained your presence to him, and he beamed every morning when his father carried him down the attic ladder and he saw you again. 

Din, so used to being the lone adult in the household, insists on contributing to the routine: cooking, cleaning, setting the fire. It feels so natural, so right - and yet a blade dangles over this strange little found family, ready to drop at any moment. 

Each evening, Din readies Gró for bed, sometimes bathing his son in a tin bath in front of the fire while you tell him a story by way of distraction. It has quickly become a highlight of the blacksmith’s day, these moments where he watches as you make his beloved boy squeal with laughter, or hold his rapt attention with the twists and turns of a tale. 

They were content and settled, this clan of two. But Din couldn’t help the daydreams about a clan of three that sometimes flashed through his mind. 

He took every opportunity he could to touch you throughout the day. A squeeze of your hand at the breakfast table as Gró drained his cup of milk. A discreet kiss to your cheek as he made his way into the forge for his morning’s work. A gentle caress of your waist as he passes you while you’re laying the table for the main meal, taken in the middle of the day. 

With Gró settled and asleep in the loft, the two of you moved more hastily in the evenings, now, to sort the things for breakfast and smother the fire. The sooner the chores were done, after all, the sooner you could shed your clothes and climb into his bed together. 

The nervous caution of your first time together soon dissipated as you grew more familiar with each other, more in tune with each other’s needs and desires. For all his inexperience and your difficult past, the two of you are perfectly-matched lovers. The feeling of Din’s broad body on yours, glistening with sweat, begins to exorcise the demons of the past. You ride him on top, one hand intertwined with his as he squeezes your breasts and watches you come. He slips his cock inside you one morning as you’re lying together, your back pressed to his chest, and fucks you slowly and carefully until you’re both coming quietly, mouths pushed into the pillows. One evening, he was even too impatient for bed, hitching up your skirts and taking you over the heavy wooden table, hand pressed against your mouth as you whined against his palm. 

“I want to learn you,” Din whispered one night, easing your long shift off so that you were completely bare, lying alongside his own naked body. 

You traced your fingertips along the softness of his lips. “Learn me?”

His strong, clever fingers roamed over you as he nodded. “Learn you. Know you, all of you.” He squeezed your tits softly, sucking gently on each nipple. “Commit you to memory. How you feel, how you fit together. Do you like this?”

You wound your fingers through his messy curls and nodded. He followed the curves of your body with his broad, calloused hands, moving over your waist and holding your hips firmly as he reverently kissed your belly. He took his time, hands memorising the exact shape and volume of your form.

“You are a beauty, mo chuisle,” he murmured, dark eyes looking up at you from between your legs. “So lovely and soft and warm.”

His fingers pressed into the meat of your thighs as he mapped you out, and you felt the wetness between your legs as your hips bucked upwards, legs parting instinctively. 

“Can I…see, mo chuisle?” Din’s palm grazed over the hair covering your mound. “See you…see you here?”

“Of course, my darling.” You opened your legs wider for him, watching as his eyes grew round in awe, before darkening with lust. He reached for his cock, whimpering a little as he stroked himself. 

“That’s beautiful.” He had shifted his head closer to your centre, his expression a little bashful. “I’d like to kiss you here.  Would that be alright?”

“Please, darling,” you hissed. “Put your mouth on me.”

“I’ve never…” He exhaled nervously as he settled between your legs, fingers already playing with your wet folds. “Never even thought of this, but…”

You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled, understanding what he was trying to say. “You’ll know just what to do, love.”

This was new to you, too, though you had heard of men doing it to their girls, especially if they were not meant to lie together. Your friend Mary had, just prior to her marriage, confided in you that she and her betrothed had found a way to sate their passions without the risk of her falling pregnant before the wedding. 

“The mouth is a great thing, all the same,” she’d said, dangling her bare feet in the cool water of the local river on a warm summer day as the two of you lazed on the grassy bank, skirts hitched to your knees. She had explained the mechanisms of it to you, chuckling at your sceptical expression. 

“Just wait, girleen. Just you wait and see.”

Now Din’s soft, plush lips were pressed against your slit, tongue tasting your wetness, and you finally understood what she meant. It was heaven: the way his lips brushed against the little bundle of nerves and made your whole body convulse with pleasure, the sensation of his patchy beard against your thighs, how he began to slip his tongue in and out of you. His grunts and moans vibrated against your core and you came hard against him, giggling when you saw the slick glistening all over his smiling face. 

In the nights to come, you returned the favour, languidly sucking and licking at his perfect cock while he held your head in place with his broad hands, hips bucking up against you as he groaned with sheer pleasure.

You paused, reminding him that he needed to be quieter, before slipping his cock between your lips again. “‘S not my fault, mo chuisle,” he panted, eyes locked on how his hard length disappeared into your pretty mouth. “Feels far too good.” 

As he came in your mouth for the first time, you’d looked up at his beautiful face, release and pleasure and affection written on every part of it, and begged whatever deity might listen to let you stay here forever.

Din is more comfortable showing his feelings through actions, physical gestures, than words. Little by little, though, you notice him opening up more, saying more. Not that he’d ever be what you could consider a talker. 

One night, nestled together, you ask him to tell you about himself.

"I want to hear your story, Din.” The comforting caress of your hand against his face makes him smile softly.

"I don’t know what there is to tell.”

You cuddle closer to him, enjoying the feel of his solid frame against you. “Well, I don’t know much about your family, for one…”

He shifts a little in bed and for an instant you worry you have overstepped the mark. 

“It’s not a very happy story, mo chuisle, but if you want to know…”

A kiss to the expanse of broad, tanned chest exposed at the neck of his nightshirt. “I want to know. If you want to tell me.”

He finds your hand and presses it to his chest, seeking reassurance in your familiar touch, and taking a deep breath before he begins to whisper his story to you.

"I’m a travelling person. I don’t know where I was born - other than that it was probably somewhere towards the west of the country, on a campsite. I have - had - an older sister, a younger brother. Lived off the money from whatever work my father could get - fixing pots and pans, mostly, sometimes farm labour, depending on the season.”

"A hard living.”

He nods, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. “Hard, but loving.” He inhales deeply, again, before continuing.

"We were never really wanted anywhere. Moved on, camps disturbed, even attacked, sometimes. We learned quickly how to hide at the first sign of trouble.”

He closes his eyes, a flash of sorrow crossing his beautiful features in the moonlight coming through the little cottage window. “I suppose that’s what saved me.”

For a few moments, Din is quiet. 

“We had camped on land that was part of some big estate, belonging to Lord somebody or other. The usual situation. My father and a couple of our other men went fishing the first day and poaching the first night, to get us some food. I can still see the scales of the big salmon he caught, glinting in the firelight as my mother cleaned it.”

"A feast.”

He nods, a little smile on his lips at the memory, before his features darken again. “But not our feast to take. The lord’s feast, by virtue of the land being given to him by some far-off king.” He shakes his head ruefully.

"I was coming back with some cans of water the next morning when I heard shouting. The glimpses of red moving towards the camp - the yeomanry. The landlord set them on us, and they gave us no quarter. When some of our men and women tried to defend our few possessions, they - well, they turned violent.”

You hold him close, feeling the anguish in his breathing.

"I saw my father fall, killed by a blow to the head with the butt of a yeoman’s musket. My mother caught a glimpse of me, roared at me to run, to hide, and to my eternal shame I did just that. I didn’t go to them. I ran.”

"She wanted you to live, Din. She was saving you.”

He swallows hard, audible in the stillness of the night. 

“The local priest found me a couple of days later, still carrying the empty can. I’d hidden in a ditch, ate blackberries to survive. He arranged for the local blacksmith and his wife to take me in, train me as an apprentice.” 

He pauses again. You realise this is the most he’s probably ever said to you in one go. 

“When the time came, I took to the roads myself, honing the craft before I could set up on my own. I wasn’t long back when the priest called, saying a cousin in the east knew of an empty forge in need of a good smith.”

"And that’s how you came here?”

Din nods. “That’s how I came to be here.”

You venture a sensitive question. “Din… what happened to your mother, your siblings?”

"Poorhouse. No other choice.”

Silence.

"I didn’t know where they’d gone. So much sickness in those godforsaken places…”

Another pause.

”My brother died first. Then my sister, and then my mother.”

Your voice is tiny, barely a whisper. “Did you… see them?”

"By the time we found out what poorhouse they were in… it was too late.”

Tears prick at your eyes, and you do your best not to let them fall. This is his story, his grief, not yours. Instead, you shift up the bed a little, still holding his warm body close, and lean in to caress and kiss him. 

There’s a wet, salty tang on his cheek. You kiss away the silent tear. 

For a moment, you think of what Din told you about how he came to adopt Gró: his unwillingness to let the boy go to a poorhouse or orphanage, his desire to protect and train the child, just as he himself had once been taken in by the smith and his wife. Just as he, himself, had once been a lost little boy. 

You press your lips to the messy curls at the crown of his head. 

There are times when you almost forget that you’re not really meant to be here, so natural and right does it feel. And then you are jolted back, reluctantly, to a reality where you are still technically the wife of a violent, cruel man who could claim you at any moment. 

That afternoon, you hear the sound of horses approaching and immediately disappear up to the loft, as usual, until you know it’s safe to descend. You listen attentively as the door opens and breathe a sigh of relief when Gró’s delighted little voice greets Peigí, here on one of her regular visits. You hear Din enter the cottage from the forge, chatting companionably to his old friend, and make for the ladder.

You’re a few rungs down when you hear a second, less familiar voice.

“So where is she, Din?”

He stutters, the panic evident in his voice. You wonder if you can make it back to the loft. 

Too late.

Father Carthy hears the sound of your skirts and turns, greeting you by name in grave tones. 

“You might as well come and join us, my child.”

Peigí’s gaze is apologetic as you climb down the ladder and move to join the little cluster of adults, Din having sent Gró outside to play. You stand beside him, arms wrapped protectively over your body, resisting the urge to reach for his hand. 

“I’m sorry, girleen.” Peigí wrings her hands, expression anxious and sorrowful. “Father came to see me today before I left for the forge, I couldn’t turn him out.”

You meet Father Carthy’s eyes with a look of defiance, straightening yourself to your full height, silently demanding an explanation.

“I am not here to force you home. I know your…situation.” The priest exhales deeply, fingers fiddling with the little black buttons on his long robes. “And between us and the wall and the Lord Almighty, if that kind of cruelty and abandonment was grounds for annulment… well.”

The back of Din’s hand brushes almost imperceptibly against yours. 

“But you are still a married woman, and…” The cleric sighs apologetically. “My child, you were seen here. Out in the back field, with the boy. And if I’ve heard it, and people are talking, then it’s only a matter of time before -”

You interject in a low, steady voice. “Before Searlas finds out where I am.”

The priest nods sadly. “That’s why I came here. Why I came with Peigí, specifically. We… have a suggestion.” He looks expectantly at Peigí, who offers you an encouraging smile as she nods in agreement.

“My sister, Rosie - she’s in the next county, big farm, spinster, plenty of space and could do with the help. You could stay there for a bit and then come home to your own place - until they change the garrison, surely, or that wastrel Searlas can be warned off…”

You bite your lip, mulling it over. 

“I mean, maybe he’s not going to come looking for me.”

Peigí and the priest exchange a concerned glance. The cleric clasps his hands together and looks at you sympathetically.

“The thing is… I have eyes and ears, as it were, in the barracks, and in the public house preferred by the garrison. I didn’t want to tell you, my dear, in case it frightened you - but he has been talking about you.” He purses his lips, almost afraid to tell you the truth. “He has openly talked about finding you, about… claiming you. And if he finds out you’ve been staying here, with a bachelor - think of your reputation, my child.”

You let out an involuntary sob, and Peigí places a comforting hand on your arm. “I think you need to be gone tomorrow, girleen. At the latest. I’m sorry, I know it’s awful quick, but…”

For the first time, Din speaks. His voice is low, controlled, serious. 

“But you - I mean, she must be kept safe.” He looks at you, dark eyes full of care and concern. “If you want to stay, I will keep you safe. I promise.”

There’s nothing more you want in the world than to throw your arms around him and let him protect you, just as you long to protect him from the sorrows of his past. But his description of the day he lost his parents echoes in your mind, as does the tension that crackled in the air the day the soldiers were at the forge. You cannot - will not - bring that down on him again, nor on Gró.

“Din, if I stay here I fear that none of us will be safe. Not you, not me, not Gró. I couldn’t take that risk, my d-” You catch yourself just in time. “I mean, my dear friend.”

Peigí’s wise, inquisitive eyes dart between you and Din, and she emits a low, intrigued hum.

Din exhales in frustration. “I said I would keep you safe, here. I mean it.”

Father Carthy places a paternal hand on Din’s shoulder, expression gentle but resigned. “She’s right, Din, and you know it. Apart from her own reputation - you don’t want a troop of redcoats landing on the doorstep, do you? Think of your home, your livelihood - your son.”

The blacksmith’s expression is defiant, but you can see the reality of the situation dawning on him as the light fades from his beautiful eyes. He nods, silent, a hand twisting at the soft, worn leather of his apron.

“Early as we can after dawn tomorrow, then?” Peigí squeezes your hand as she waits for your answer.

You cannot bring yourself to look at Din as you nod in agreement. 

It is still bright outside, just about, when Gró is settled for bed and the dinner things cleared and tidied away. You have packed up your saddlebags in silence, fighting the tears that threaten to fall at any moment.

Din’s broad hand reaches around your waist as he moves past you, pulling you close to him. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, kissing the delicate skin.

“Can we take a little walk, mo chuisle? Before night falls?”

You face him, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingers. “A little one. Don’t forget there’s a little boy asleep in the loft, we can’t go too far.”

He presses his lips to your fingertips before kissing you on the forehead. 

You walk hand in hand in the dusk, wandering through the field at the back of the forge towards the old oak tree that stands at the boundary of the property. Din is quiet - even quieter than usual, just casting occasional glances in your direction and squeezing your hand with a gentle smile.

In the shadow of the oak, he kisses you deeply, pressing your body against the tree as he holds your face in his big, strong hands. 

“I don’t want to go, Din.”

“I don’t want you to go, mo chuisle.” He kisses you again, chastely, and looks in your eyes. A question hovers on the tip of his tongue.

“Tell me, my darling.”

He holds your hands, grounding himself a little in your comforting touch. 

“I want you to take Gró to Peigí’s sister’s. Please.”

Even in the half-light, he can read the shock on your face.

“Oh, Din, I… I couldn’t. I couldn’t see the two of you parted, he’d be lost without you and you without him and-”

He shakes his head firmly. “I have to keep you safe - both of you. And if a gang of redcoats turned up and it was just me and him…”

He saw his father die. 

“He’s your son.” 

Din nods. “He is. And I can’t leave him alone again.”

He lost his entire family.

“He might not want to leave with me.”

“I’ve explained it to him. He knows it’s not forever, he understands the reasons why.” You catch a glimpse of his smile, a beacon of hope in the twilight. 

“Mo chuisle, you’re the closest thing he has to a mother in this world.”

You hold each other close through the night, afraid to sleep lest you miss a single second of this time together. 

Din tucks his face into the side of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and softly kissing the exposed skin of your shoulders. You wind your fingers through his hair, trying to memorise the rhythm of his heartbeat and his breath.

"You should sleep, mo chuisle,” he whispers against your body. “Tomorrow will be a hard one.”

"Says you,” you whisper in return, enough to elicit a muffled chuckle from the blacksmith. 

He pulls away to look you in the eye, fingers mapping the shape of your features. Even in the low light, you can see how his beautiful eyes glisten: this strong and stoic man, fighting the tears that threaten to fall.

You take his hand and guide it down your body, pausing to hitch up your shift and open your legs. You inhale sharply as his fingers find your pussy, well-practiced now from nights and early mornings spent pleasuring you. 

With a shift of your hips you roll onto your back, bringing Din on top of you. You pause to take in the sight, suppressing the gnawing feeling that this might well be the last time. The glint in his dark eyes. The moonlight illuminating his features. The feeling of his strong, broad body above you, perfectly positioned between your thighs. 

“Make love to me, Din.” 

He does so slowly, carefully, anchoring himself with one hand on your hip and the other still caressing the side of your face. You kiss as he fucks you, your whines absorbed by his soft mouth. No man had ever made you come before Din, you muse, as your cunt pulses around him and you near the edge. No man had ever made you feel like this - not just physically, but emotionally, too. Sex was presented to you before your marriage as a duty, not a pleasure. With Din, though, lovemaking felt like the most beautiful, natural expression of the spiritual connection that existed between the two of you. 

You come almost simultaneously, Din groaning into your shoulder as he fills you with his seed, you biting your lip to stop yourself from crying out. Still inside you, he kisses you, over and over, your hands trailing through his wavy brown locks and fingers grazing against the rough, patchy stubble of his jaw. 

For a moment, you think he’s about to say something. But all he does is kiss you.

It’s still dark outside when you wake, but there’s a comforting glow inside the cottage. You sit up in bed, turning to see Din stoking a small fire in the hearth. He has lit the lamp on the mantle, its flickering yellow flame casting light and shadow through the glass. 

You dress quickly, shivering as your body adjusts to the colder air after the warmth of your shared bed, and cross the room to the little cupboard that holds the few pieces of crockery Din owns. By the time he has climbed the attic ladder to rouse the boy, you’ve set the table for a simple breakfast of bread, butter, and the last of the jam you’d brought with you. 

Gró’s fair hair peeks over his father’s broad shoulder as Din carries him down the ladder. The little boy is still half-asleep, eyes still closed and nestled into the blacksmith’s frame. Din carefully slides him into his usual seat at the table, ruffling his son’s hair as Gró rubs his eyes and yawns. 

“I think some bread and jam will help wake you up, hmmm?” You take a couple of slices of bread from the dish and place them on the boy’s little plate, before pushing the jar of jam in his direction. His dark eyes widen as he looks at you, astonished. This is a rare treat, indeed: usually it’s you or Din who spreads the sweet conserve on his bread, as Gró is liable to be heavy-handed. But this is not a day for rules or restrictions.

“You can have as much as you like, little one.” 

The tears threaten at the sight of Gró enthusiastically scraping the jam out of the earthenware pot, a huge smile on his face as he spoons it liberally onto the soda bread. He takes a huge bite and hums delightedly, before turning to you and beaming. The little boy already has blobs of jam on his cheeks and nose, and the sight makes you chuckle. 

Din returns to the main room carrying a small knapsack containing Gró’s things. He places it alongside your saddlebags before he joins the two of you at the table, giving your hand a squeeze that, you suspect, is intended to reassure him as much as it is you. He keeps a smile on his face, keeps his tone cheery and light, even as his eyes glisten with tears. 

You are saddling Réaltín in the dawn light when Peigí appears down the lane, wrapped in a rough brown cloak and riding her small grey mount. She dismounts swiftly and nods to you. 

“All set?”

“I think so. I left the two on their own for a little bit, just to… well, you know.” You swallow hard and look in the direction of the forge. “It’ll be hard for them.”

Peigí hums in agreement. “Aye, ’twill. But Din’s right. And hopefully that bollocks of a so-called husband will be out of the picture soon enough and you can come home. The prick.”

You can’t help but chuckle at the venom in her tone. “Hopefully. I’m awful grateful to you and your sister, Peigí. I mean, maybe we’re being overly cautious, but…”

She shakes her head, russet curls bouncing. “Not a bit of it. You can never tell with a fucker like that.” The cottage door opens, and Din appears, Gró securely held in his strong arms. 

“And there’s the best boy in all of Ireland!” Peigí races over, taking the knapsack and planting a kiss on Gró’s cheek. “We should probably get going, girleen.”

She tactfully retreats to the horses, giving you, Din, and Gró some space to say your goodbyes. You feel the blacksmith’s broad arm snake around your waist, uncaring as to whether Peigí saw the affectionate gesture - or, more likely, all too aware that she knew exactly what was going on. 

The little boy brings a hand up to touch his father’s handsome face, big eyes scanning Din’s features as if he’s committing them to memory. 

“Ná bíodh eagla ort, grá mo chroí.” [Don’t be afraid, love] The blacksmith smiles, but he’s fighting back the tears as he kisses his son’s golden hair. Instinctively, you rest your head on Din’s shoulder, trying to keep your own emotions in check. 

Gró’s dark eyes fill with tears and his father comforts him with cuddles. “You’ll have a lovely time on the farm, won’t you? And you’ll look after her while you’re on your visit.” He looks at you, and you nod, smiling at Gró.

“Of course he will. He’s a big, brave lad.” The little boy grins at the praise before flinging his arms around Din’s neck for a final tight hug.

“Be good, and take this.” Din reaches into his pocket to produce a small, silvery chain, evidently made by his own hands. A metal disc dangles from it, and you realise that Din has engraved it with his son’s name. He places it over the boy’s head, smiling at Gró as he picks up the pendant and coos at the shiny object.

“We should get going, lads.” Peigí’s voice carries in the still of the early morning, and Din passes his son to you. Gró nuzzles against you, still holding on to the little pendant that hangs from his neck. 

Din’s long fingers find your hand and press something into your palm. He leans in to kiss your cheek. His voice, warm but wavering with emotion, whispers in your ear. 

 “Is tú mo ghrá thú, mo chuisle.” [You are my love, my darling.]

You stifle the sob that’s rising in your chest. 

“I love you too, Din.”

Peigí’s sister Rosie shares her sister’s hardy, forthright personality and her tightly curled auburn hair, but not a lot else. Where Peigí is small, Rosie is tall; where Peigí is talkative and open, Rosie is quiet and reserved. Still, her welcome is genuine, her home comfortable, and you feel at ease from the moment you cross the threshold after a long day’s journey to some semblance of sanctuary.

You retire quickly once you’ve been fed and watered, Peigí sharing with Rosie while you and Gró make do with a settle bed. The little boy falls asleep almost immediately, and you gently kiss his soft cheek, willing him to know that it comes from his father, too.

With the household abed, you can finally look again at Din’s parting gift to you: a chain and pendant, similar to Gró’s. Where the little boy’s bears his name, however, yours carries a symbol, evidently engraved into the metal by the blacksmith himself. Three interconnected spirals - an ancient symbol, one that you recognise from a dolmen tomb that stands in a field not far from your birthplace, one that people in the locality have long speculated about.

Father Carthy would say it is a symbol of the Holy Trinity: three divine beings in one, a sign of early Christians in Ireland. But the storytellers in the townland say it’s far older than any church, its meaning lost to the mists of time.

You trace the three spirals with your fingertip in the darkness. Three as one. For you, that is meaning enough.

He was alone for a long time, Din reminds himself - alone before you, alone even before Gró. He can be alone again.

That said, though, there’s being alone and not knowing anything different, and being alone now. He still automatically goes to the foot of the attic ladder every morning, ready to wake his little boy. He hides the bowl and cup Gró usually uses, because the sight of them makes his heart ache. He throws himself into his work, distracting himself with glowing-hot metal.

And then there is your absence. He had never lived with a woman, not like this; never shared his bed night after night, never loved like this. For the first few days, he wakes with a start when he reaches for your warm, soft body and realises you’re not there. 

He tries not to think about the reality of the situation: the fact that, even if you were to return home tomorrow, you could never be together, at least not while Searlas lived. There are nights when, alone in his bed and desperate for the embrace of your arms, violence tempts Din. In his younger years, he might already have taken matters into his own hands. 

As the days and weeks tick by with no sign of your so-called husband, and no word from Father Carthy, the blacksmith reminds himself to be patient - and not to fall into complacency. He had never really lost that sense of looking over his shoulder: from childhood, from the rebellion, and now he felt glad of it. No one from the community mentions you to him, though he knows they must have heard by now that you had been hiding from Searlas at the forge. He does his repairs as usual, driving into the village with his pony and trap to return items and collect others, pulling his kerchief over his face as he makes his way through the main street lest he spy a troop of redcoats. 

One of the regular customers asks about Gró when he’s returning her extra-large soup pan, newly mended. Din hesitates, but keeps his expression steady.

“He’s spending time with some…cousins,” he explains. “On a farm. It’ll be good for him, he’ll learn from the experience.”

The woman doesn’t ask further, pays up, and retreats back into her little house as Din turns his horse and cart for home. As he gathers speed, he hears a voice calling his name. Father Carthy, clad in his long black cassock and wearing a broad-brimmed hat, is waving to him from the end of the laneway that leads to the chapel. 

“Could you spare me a few moments, Din? Follow me up to the parish house.”

The priest’s house is a decently-sized cottage, larger but not too dissimilar to the majority of the dwellings in the village. Father Carthy might be responsible for the majority of the believers in the community, but his is not the “established” church, the official church of the state and gentry, and as such his home is a far cry from the grand, double-fronted manse occupied by the vicar who tends to the local worthies. Even the location of the chapel, tucked off a narrow laneway behind the main street, is a testament to the lower status of this particular branch of religion.

Din enters, taking off his hat and kerchief, and follows the cleric’s gesture to take a seat near the hearth. Father Carthy does the same, pulling his chair closer to Din.

“I have news. I haven’t been able to find a way to dissuade Searlas from seeking her out, but a little bird tells me that they’re going to change the troops again in a week or so. The current crop has been…rowdy.” The priest purses his lips, mulling over the stories he has heard of public drunkenness, fighting, and even soldiers nonchalantly carousing with women in the pubs and on the street. He decides not to give Din too many of the gory details. 

“So they’re going to be sent elsewhere, split up. Clonmel, I heard, for some, and Castlebar for others. Maybe a few to Cork. There’s ructions, as you can imagine - a rare thing to break up a regiment - but…”

Din meets the priest’s meaningful gaze. “But…he would be gone.”

Father Carthy nods. “It’s not a solution, not forever, but it at least would let her come home to her own place again, and Gró home to you. You were right to send the boy with her, too - who knows what might have happened had he come knocking?”

Din closes his eyes and furrows his brow at the priest’s turn of phrase: “her own place”. It was a reminder of the truth, that you were not - and could not be - his.

Father Carthy gets to his feet, a signal to Din that it was time to go. “In the meantime, I’m going to look more closely into the canon law around annulment. I’m not hopeful, but maybe she might be able to build a case for it. He did abandon her, after all. Anyway -” he opens the door, and Din exits “- it would free her, at least, from the threat of him.”

The blacksmith thanks Father Carthy as he saddles up to head back to the forge, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks. On the road home, Din smiles to himself as he thinks about seeing Gró again, holding his little boy in his arms, watching you give him an extra spoonful of jam at breakfast, tucking him in to sleep at night. He thinks about your eyes, your smile; the feeling and taste of your mouth; the scent of your skin. 

No matter what, he promises himself, no matter the rules or the law or whatever a piece of paper might say: he’ll kiss you again, hold you, take you to bed, and show you how much he missed you.

A couple of days later, as dusk settles, Din lights the lamp and finishes clearing away his lone dinner bowl and mug. Anticipation courses through him as he thinks about seeing two - no, three - places set for the evening meal again. Soon. Soon, they’ll be home.

He yawns and stretches, a hand reaching up to scratch his wavy, dark locks. It had been a hard day in the forge: a run of horses that needed to be shod, urgent repairs, and the difficulty of managing the work itself as well as the bellows and the fire, all by himself. An early night, he decides, might be in order.

He’s in his shirt and breeches when he hears the sound. A horse, its footfall cautious and uncertain, as though it had not been down the laneway before. A rider, barking commands and swearing at the animal. Din pulls his kerchief from his pocket and fastens it around his face before climbing swiftly up the attic ladder. His hand reaches into the thatch, on the other side of the house from Gró’s little bed, and retrieves a pike, smaller in design than the ones he’d hammered by the dozen in 1798 but no less lethal in the right hands. He grips the pike in his right hand, hidden from view while he opens the door with his left.

The rider struggles off his horse, evidently drunk. His scarlet tunic is unmistakable. The light from the cottage illuminates his features: pale, washed-out complexion; unhappy mouth set in a miserable line; hard blue eyes that offered nothing but coldness. 

“Where the fuck is she, then, the stupid fucking bitch?”

Din’s fist tightens around the pike, but he holds his ground, still peering around the door. “Who is it? Who are you?”

Searlas swaggers drunkenly towards the house. “I know you’re a tinker, but you don’t have to play thick with me. You know who I am.” He beats his chest, peacocking as he nears Din’s threshold. “I’m a soldier of the fucking crown, so I am. And I’m here for what’s mine.”

He pokes Din’s broad chest, seeming a little startled at how solid the blacksmith actually is. Searlas’s watery eyes meet Din’s stern gaze. 

“So… where the fuck is she?”

“Whoever you’re after,” Din says, maintaining the same tone he’s used throughout the encounter so far, “they’re not here. I live alone.”

Searlas pushes Din in frustration, and Din recoils a little at the stench of cheap poitín from the other, smaller man. “I know she’s fucking here. The whole fucking place knows.” He steps back and starts to roar upwards, as if addressing you in an attic hiding place. 

“Did you not think I’d find you? You’re that fucking stupid, you would think that. I’m here now, time to go home. You’re mine, remember?” He shakes his fist, swaying a little.

“She’s not here. And even if she was, why do you care so much now? You left her on her own for years, apart from all the other things you did to her.”

Searlas stares at Din, a look of disgust on his face. “So you do know her? She’s full of shit, so she is. Full of lies. Not to be trusted.”

He wheels around again, almost losing his balance completely this time. “You were seen, you lying cunt!”

Din’s fingers clench and release over and over around the pike. He swallows the urge to run this miserable fucker through.

The soldier looks at him through glassy, drunken eyes. “She’s mine, see. And I think I want to take what’s mine. Time she was taught a lesson.” He roars the last word, as if hoping you’ll hear him and emerge.

The blacksmith edges out slightly and stands firmer, broader, in his front door. Searlas stares at him accusingly. 

“D’you fuck her?”

Din holds his body and face completely still, focusing on the grip of the pike and his breathing.

“I said, did you fuck her? Did you fuck my wife?”

Din takes a deep breath. “Do you have the right to call her your wife, after what you did?”

Searlas’s jaw drops in astonishment. Din knew that he was just a bog-standard Irish Catholic soldier signed up for cannon fodder like all the others, but it was clear that the other man believed his uniform made him one of the “betters”, no matter what.

“What did you say to me?”

“I said, do you have the right to call her your wife?”

Searlas almost growls with drunken fury. “I have the right to call her whatever I fucking like.” Din notices his fist tightening by his side and steels himself as the other man approaches, menacingly. 

“I’ll call her what I fucking like,” Searlas repeats, “including calling her what she is. A slut. A liar. A frigid, barren, useless excuse for a woman. And now? She’s filthy, tinker’s whore. That’s all she is. A stupid, ugly, disgusting tinker’s whore.”

The speed with which Din moves takes the soldier by surprise, as does the bright flash of the pike’s blade as it reflects the moonlight. The blacksmith uses the long handle first, roaring as he beats Searlas away with some well-placed blows. He moves with agility and confidence as the soldier fumbles in his sleeves for a weapon, and produces a narrow switchblade dagger.

“I’ll fucking show you, tinker,” he roars, the poitín giving him an exaggerated confidence. “I’ll skin you alive, fucking another man’s wife.”

He lunges at Din, but a swift, measured flick of the pike’s bladed end knocks the dagger to the ground and tears a hole in the scarlet tunic. Now Din presses his advantage, driving Searlas back to his horse.

“Get out of here and leave her alone. Forever. Don’t you ever come near her again.”

A more sober man would have cut and run, and would do so wisely. But Searlas’s selfishness combined with his drunkenness made for a terrible cocktail of aggression and abuse.

“And what will you do, tinker? They should have hanged every last one of you rebel scum in ‘98. Pity that scalp wasn’t ripped from your skull with a pitchcap.” He pats his thighs, as if seeking another blade. “You couldn’t defend yourselves then, why do you think you could stand up to the king’s army now?” He cocks his head and looks at Din, eyes menacing. 

“Or are you just that desperate to defend a thick, useless slut like my wife?”

The grunting, the roars, and the sickening sound of a strong, sturdy fist meeting flesh and bone resonate in the stillness of the twilight. And then another sound, louder still: the unmistakable thud of a man’s body hitting the cold ground. 

[howlinchickhowl]

Ristretto - mini update

Hey! So, uh. I've been working on the next chapter of Ristretto for a good long while now. I'm finding it challenging because it's a lot of spice and that's one of the things I find hardest to write well. The next chapter, May, the lusty month of may, is planned as basically a five + 1 of fucking, and I have completed one section! So I have decided what I am doing for this chapter is mini updates by section here on tumblr, and then whenever I have all the sections complete I will update on ao3. In all honesty I just feel like I need the boost of actually posting something right now.

If you remember this fic and want to read the updates separately as they come, great! If you would rather wait and read them all in one go as one whole chapter, also great!

If you have no idea what Ristretto is, it's my coffeeshop AU I have been writing forever and a day and you can read from the beginning here.

And now without further ado!

Chapter 9(a) - rated E

May

By the time Ian closes the store, Mickey has taken to the break room for a nap, and Ian completes all of his nightly cleaning duties to the sounds of him snoring deep and rhythmic. When he’s done Ian shakes him awake and is treated to a full ten minutes of Mickey yawning and squinting like a sleepy baby while they gather their shit and lock up. They walk to the L and it seems to dawn on Mickey just when they’re getting on the train that he doesn’t actually know what Ian has planned, or where they’re going.

He gripes when Ian refuses to tell him, makes a few guesses but doesn’t get anywhere close. When they get to their stop he looks confused, wary, like maybe Ian’s playing some sort of trick on him. But he follows all the same. 

They get off at 47th and cut back across the 90 towards the maze of streets they both sort of call home. Ian leads them through Fuller Park, past the train depot, and the little league field.

“I peed on first base here once.” Mickey tells him, with a childish sort of pride, hooking his fingers into the chain-link fence and stopping to stare out at the spot in question.

“Why?” Ian stops beside him, watching his face as he looks, remembers. Mickey shrugs, like he doesn’t know why, but there is a faraway look in his eyes that suggests that this is not really the case.

“Bet you were a little terror.” Ian jokes, bumping Mickey’s shoulder with his own.

“I was a Milkovich.” Mickey smiles, licks his teeth, kind of feral, and pushes off from the fence. “We got far to go?” He asks, and Ian shakes his head no, pushing off as well and steering them across the little patch of green adjacent to the field so they can hang a right onto Normal.

A couple of blocks and a couple of turns later and they’re there. A road of empty homes, a tiny ghost town in the middle of the night. It’s eerie, actually, Ian thinks as they walk. They reach their destination, two doors down from Lip’s new place, a little square box of a home with faded gray walls, an overgrown front yard, and, crucially, a shitty back door with a broken lock.

Ian leads them through the little wilderness of the yard around to the back, jiggles the handle a little in the way that he has figured out gives him the quickest access, and ushers Mickey inside.

The electricity is out but Ian is prepared, he reaches over to the counter and flips on the camping lantern he had set there for this exact purpose. It’s not bright but it gives off just enough light for Mickey to see the selection of snacks Ian has set out next to the sink, the array of candles he has prepared on most of the other surfaces, ready to light, and through the open door into the next room where he has set up a little nest for them.

Mickey’s back is to him and he hasn’t spoken yet, and it’s making Ian kind of nervous. Was this a weird thing to do? Was it too much? Maybe he should have talked to him about it before? The seconds tick by and neither of them speaks and Ian’s heart starts to pound like that time he and Lip had boosted a car and ended up in front of a cop car at a red light, holding their breaths and hoping like hell that the car hadn’t been reported stolen yet.

Sucking in a deep breath he moves past Mickey and starts to light the candles, just to give himself something to do.

“It’s not much, I don’t know, I thought…”

He trails off, holds his lighter to the wick of a dusty teddy bear shaped candle Debbie had been throwing away and chances a glance at Mickey, nervous, but unable to stop himself from trying to figure out what he’s thinking.

Mickey’s eyes roam around the room, taking in the sight as the newly lit candles cast warm flickering shadows over his impassive face. They land at last on Ian’s, reflections of the flames dancing against the black of his pupils.

“It’s private.” Ian shrugs.

Mickey cocks an eyebrow, drags his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment and nods.

“Private, huh?” He asks, stepping closer so their bodies brush against each other. Ian reaches around past him to light another candle, no noise but their breathing and the soft swish of his sleeve against Mickey’s.

He lights the candle, and the one next to it, placing them gently back in place on the counter, and when he turns his head towards Mickey he is right there. Their faces are inches apart, so close he could count the individual freckles on Mickey’s eyelids, could extend his tongue and lick the tip of his nose.

Their eyes lock onto each other’s and his breath is suddenly coming in shallow little huffs that blow the stray hairs hanging over Mickey’s forehead up.

“Tell me Gallagher,” Mickey’s voice is hushed, a low rumble of a thing that gets Ian’s nerves tingling as Mickey squares up to him, getting his body even closer and laying assured hands on Ian’s belt buckle. “What do we need somewhere private for?”

His eyebrows tick up again, suggestive, knowing, and his fingers find stronger purchase on Ian’s belt, the backs of his first knuckles brushing the sensitive skin of Ian’s stomach while his thumbs trace the outline of the buckle. Ian sucks in a sharp breath, Mickey draws in his own, long and slow and he waits.

Ian moves first, slamming his face into Mickey’s with enough force to push him back into the counter and latching his lips onto Mickey’s with almost desperate fervor, and after that it’s pointless trying to say who is kissing or grabbing or undressing whom.

Tongues and lips and teeth all slide and catch and drag, Ian pulls Mickey’s jacket down his shoulders, Mickey gets Ian’s pants open and shoved down over the swell of his ass. They move as one frenzied unit, pulling and grabbing and pushing and shoving, until Ian’s pants are around his ankles and they are tripping and stumbling and laughing into each other’s mouths trying to stay upright.

Mickey grabs a fistful of Ian’s shirt and yanks it up in an entirely ineffective attempt to get it off him, growling when he is unsuccessful.

“Fuckin’, take your fuckin’ shirt off asshole.’ Mickey yanks again and Ian pulls away just enough to get his shirt over his head, tossing it blindly and praying it doesn’t land on a lit candle and start a fire. He should be more careful, he knows, but he can’t focus on anything but Mickey right now, Mickey who is looking him up and down and licking his lips like Ian is a big juicy steak he’s looking to devour.

“Fuck, yeah.” Mickey breathes, getting both his hands on Ian’s traps and sliding them, firmly, down over his chest until just his fingertips are brushing over Ian’s abs. He rests there, and the muscles in Ian’s stomach jerk under his touch.  

“This is the most of you I’ve seen all at once.” Mickey tells him, breathless, giddy, running his eyes up over Ian’s chest and shoulders and then down to where his hands are resting, plucking gently at the elastic waistband of his underwear, index finger rubbing idly over the little thatch of coarse red hairs that line it.

Ian leans in to drop a kiss on his open mouth, slack and wet and eager against Ian’s own. He moves over to leave kisses against his cheek, his jaw, nosing up behind his ear into his hairline and breathing in the scent of his skin, intoxicating and so intense just there that Ian can hardly bear it.

“You want to see more?” He asks, pushing the flat of his tongue against the skin of Mickey’s neck and dragging, slowly, as Mickey shivers against him.

“Wanna see it all.” Mickey’s voice catches as Ian flicks at his earlobe with the tip of his tongue, and he shoves his whole hands down into Ian’s shorts, palms flattening over his hips and fingers digging into the flesh of his ass in retaliation. The movement pulls them right in close, and Ian’s cock ends up shoved right up along the length of Mickey’s where’s it’s hard in his jeans.

It’s like a whole series of flashbulbs go off in Ian’s brain, one after the other. Flash. Flash. Flash. His whole brain lighting up with the contact, a full-body shudder running through him, forcing his breath right out of his chest in short little vocal puffs that he can’t contain. He shoves his forehead into Mickey’s shoulder and breathes there, letting the soft, musty scent of Mickey’s skin soothe him until he has a better hold of himself. 

Mickey’s fingers twitch, urgent, and it is that impatience helps Ian focus, helps him find it in himself to drag his mouth up Mickey’s neck, take his earlobe between his teeth in a sharp tug and then whisper.

“Take them off then.”

That’s all the permission Mickey needs, he shoves Ian’s shorts down and the two of them are off again, hands and tongues and lips everywhere at once. Ian gets distracted running his hands all over Mickey’s back and shoulders and waist, feeling the warmth of his skin seeping into his palms and getting lost in the sensation so much that he barely notices Mickey huffing and puffing about having to take off his own pants, since Ian isn’t gonna do it for him.

They laugh together when he can’t get enough room to open his fly button. Ian leans his hips back to make some space and gets with the program enough to help Mickey get his jeans and underwear down until there is a matching pool of fabric restricting his ankles as much as Ian’s. And then they laugh again.

“Should probably take our shoes off.” Ian murmurs, pressing kisses to Mickey’s lips, pressing the whole length of his body along the whole length of Mickey’s and trying not to hyperventilate at how good it feels to feel him.

“Later.” Mickey grunts, shoving his hand between them and grabbing hold of Ian, firm in the way he’s come to learn that Ian likes best. He slides his tongue sloppily into Ian’s mouth in time with his thumb rubbing over the head and it’s almost  enough to make Ian’s knees buckle.

“Mickey.” He tries to say, muffled against Mickey’s lips, hindered by his seeking tongue and his clever little hand starting to stroke.

“Mickey!” He succeeds this time, firmly, grabbing whole handfuls of Mickey’s ass and pulling him tight to Ian’s body, trapping his hand between them and halting his movement with a grunt. Mickey’s answering huff is petulant and it’s pure instinct that has Ian pulling him in even harder, letting his fingers pull at Mickey’s ass-cheeks so that they part, exposing him to the open air, letting him feel it until his panting breaths turn vocal and he stops trying to move.

Mickey’s eyes catch on his, they’re dark with want, pupils blown wide enough that Ian can barely make out the blue in them. Up to now their encounters have been marked with both an overwhelming intensity of desire and a level of humor Ian never knew could be a part of sex. Sex has never really been fun in this way, before. Fun in the way where you get your rocks off and it feels really fucking good and someone thinks you’re hot and that feels amazing or you’re super high or out of your head and everything you do is fun. But fun like this, stupid fun where you’re held captive by your pants and your lover won’t let you do anything about it kind of fun, that’s a new thing. That’s a Mickey thing. It’s the best thing Ian’s ever had.

But now it feels like they are teetering on the edge of something else, something new. Not wholly new to Ian, he’s dangled his feet in these waters a couple of times before, and the heat in Mickey’s eyes suggests that it’s not his first dip in this particular pool either, but new for them, together, and just the thought that they might be on the same page, compatible in this as well, it’s a whole new thrill. 

 “I had a plan.” He tells Mickey, low and serious, letting his thumb rub over the swell of one ass cheek, feeling the fuzz of the surprisingly light colored hairs that grow there. “Got a mattress all set up in the next room, comfy pillows, soft sheets.”

“Not a fuckin’ princess Gallagher.” Mickey grumbles, and Ian clenches his fingers harder, pulling his cheeks further apart. He can’t see, but from the sharp grunt that Mickey lets out he can tell the tension is starting to stretch his hole open ever so slightly.

“No.” He says, easing up just a little.  “Just thought you might appreciate getting fucked without getting carpet burn on your ass.”

Mickey’s mouth turns up in a smile that is somehow equal parts flirty, filthy, and sweet, and his tongue flicks out over his lips slow, tantalizing.

“Awful thoughtful of you.” He tilts his head up into the space below Ian’s chin and Ian shivers as the flat of his warm, wet, tongue slides over the underside of his jaw.

“Yeah, I’m nice like that.” His focus is split, the sharp spikes of Mickey’s stubble following the path of his tongue like tiny electric shocks against the sensitive skin of his throat, but he manages to loosen his grip and slide the fingers on his right hand all the way into Mickey’s crack and stroke them up and down a couple of times, fingertips catching gently against his rim as they move.

“Hmm.” Mickey sucks in a slow breath, and Ian can feel all the muscles in his ass twitch, uncontrollably. He likes that. “Other ways too.”

“You think I’m nice?” Mickey’s teeth join the party, scraping over the hinge in Ian’s jaw, adding a new sensation to the wet and sharp in a way that makes Ian’s knees threaten to give out. Ian rewards him by allowing the tip of his middle finger to sink in, breeching the tight circle of muscle just enough that it clenches around him. Just enough that he can now officially say he’s been inside Mickey Milkovich.

A soft vocal puff of breath blows out against Ian’s neck, wet with saliva and just a little itchy where Mickey’s been working it over with his lips and tongue and teeth. 

“What’s that?” Ian inclines his head, pushing their temples together. He pushes his finger a little deeper and then pulls it back almost immediately, Mickey’s body moving with him, unconsciously trying to keep him in. Mickey grunts. Ian pushes at his cheek with his nose, lays soft kisses on his cheek, against the corner of his lips. “Say you think I’m nice, Mick.”

He gets at Mickey’s lips, hot and wet, slides his own over them, breathes a hot breath into his mouth, swallows the breath that Mickey gives him back. He lets his finger push back in, as far as it will easily go.

“Mickey.”

Mickey kisses him, one sweaty hand coming up to grip at his shoulder and the other grabbing him at the hip. He kisses him dirty, lips and tongue dragging hot over Ian’s own, slow and wet and it’s so fucking hot Ian makes a sound he’s never heard outside of porn, like a grunt and a moan had a filthy high-pitched baby and it gets Mickey grinning against his mouth until he’s basically kissing teeth.

“Nice guy, huh?” His lips pluck at Ian’s again, nose bashing nose as he draws his head back so their eyes can meet. “That what you think you are?”

“What else?” Ian shrugs, drawing his finger, still resting just inside of Mickey’s ass, in tight little circles, just the tip really, swirling around, feeling his walls, the heat, the jolt of Mickey’s muscles as they pulse at the contact. He could just stay there forever, just rubbing at him, feeling him, but at the same time he’s desperate to get a rhythm going, add more fingers, taste him, get something else inside him, he wants everything all at once and it’s like he’s just feeling too many things, he can’t take it.

He buries his face in Mickey’s neck and clenches his hands, one holding steadfastly to Mickey’s ass-cheek, one spread so that he can keep his finger inside, but still clenching against the sheer strength of what he’s feeling.

It’s a lot, he thinks, as Mickey gasps against his ear, he must be pulling at him pretty hard, dragging him from the inside. He tries to relax, tries to think about releasing his muscles and slowing his breathing, think about things that calm him down. Soft music, going for a run, the sound of Mickey’s voice lately.

“Mick.” He about manages to grind out against the flushed pink skin of Mickey’s shoulder. “What else?”

“What, if you ain’t nice?” Mickey’s voice is soft, kind of high right there against the shell of his ear, soft lips mouthing at his earlobe as small warm hands run up and down his sides in slow, firm strokes. It must be clear to Mickey that Ian is on the brink of falling the fuck to pieces. He manages a juddery kind of nod, face still buried in Mickey’s skin, hands still fighting to tense, and he feels Mickey’s chest rise and fall in a deep breath, feels him relax his body against Ian’s.

The kisses that follow are gentle, soothing, along his hairline, down his forehead, over his cheeks and jaw, and punctuated with that sweet, husky voice, not quite whispering, but not quite talking aloud either, talking him down with each pointed breath.

“Well you’re really fuckin’ hot. So there’s that.” Kiss. “Funny. When you’re not trying to make a dumb pun joke.” Kiss. “Strong.” Kiss. “I like that you’re strong.”

He can feel it working, feel himself settling back into his skin, his heart slowing back to a regular (if aroused) rate. He manages to press a kiss into the ball of Mickey’s shoulder and is rewarded with a questioning “hmm?”

He gulps in a breath and focuses on relaxing his hands, soothing his thumb over Mickey’s almost certainly bruised ass-cheek, retracting his finger in a long, slow, slide that has Mickey’s breaths coming in short sharp vocalisations, almost giggles, like the sensation is more than his body can bear.

He drags his face up to Mickey’s for a kiss, and as he melts into that mouth it’s like he’s fully back inside his body again. He can feel every place where his skin is sticking to Mickey’s, pulling in little painful drags as they move against each other. He is aware once more, of Mickey’s dick, resting, a little twitchily, beside his own, pressed between them both and dribbling into his pubic hair. Ian enjoys how wet he gets, can’t help but reach between them to feel along the sticky length of him and give a couple of short tugs, coating his fingers in pre-come and sucking in the little huffy breaths that Mickey puffs out as he does.

“What else?” He asks, dragging his hand back around and sliding his finger back inside, crooking his knuckle to stretch out the rim a little before diving properly in.

“Fuck.” Mickey breathes against him, and Ian swallows it, his words, his breath, the intoxicating smell of him swirling inside Ian’s mouth and resting against his palate.

“What else?”

“Jesus Christ you uh.” Ian licks at his lips as he is trying to form the thoughts, a little more sensation, wants to see if he can get Mickey to shake out of his skin just the way Ian almost just had. “You kiss good.”

He licks him again, closes his lips over Mickeys in a reward of a kiss, rubbing at his rim with the tip of his ring finger, testing the waters to see if they’re there yet. Mickey’s moan is loud, fills Ian’s mouth with its neediness as he throws his arms around Ian’s shoulders and presses himself as close to Ian’s body as he can get. Second finger it is. On the next draw back, he pushes two in. Mickey’s whole body shudders against him.

“Mickey.” He loves the feel of Mickey’s entire weight hanging off him, pressed against him, clinging to him like he’s a life-raft and Mickey’s adrift at sea. “What else.”

Mickey whines, and it is such a sweet sound. Ian buries his fingers as far as they will go and swallows the noises his lover makes.

“Christ, Ian, I don’t know, if I say you’re nice will you stick your fuckin’ dick in me?”

If he’d thought laughter would break the horny spell he’s under, he would have been wrong. He’s so turned on he’s not quite sure what to do any more. He’s laughing straight into Mickey’s mouth and buzzing with desire and fighting the instinctual thrust of his hips all at the same time, so many sensations warring for attention he hardly knows how he’s still standing up, except that Mickey’s body is supporting his as much as Ian’s own is supporting Mickey’s. And God does he want to stick his dick in Mickey, more than anything he thinks he’s ever wanted. There’s only one thing stopping him.

He pulls his mouth from Mickey’s and unceremoniously drags his fingers out of his ass, grabbing a cheek in both hands and squeezing.

“Not without lube.”

Mickey rolls his eyes, leaning back in, but Ian stops him short with a hard smack and pushes him away.

It’s only when he makes for the little nest he’s set up in the next room that he remembers his pants are still around his ankles and he’s still wearing his boots. It’s Mickey’s turn to laugh as he very narrowly escapes tripping over his own feet.

“Shut up and get your shit off.” Is all Ian says, working on freeing his feet and admiring the lines of Mickey’s body as he hops about pulling his own boots off and shaking his legs out of his pants until at last he’s standing in nothing but his socks, a mile and a half of pale skin lit only by the soft glow of the candles and making Ian’s breath catch in his throat.

He has to kiss him again. His pants have barely hit the floor and he’s got Mickey gripped by the hips and is smashing their lips together even as Mickey’s shit-eating grin gives way to open-mouthed laughter.

He keeps kissing him as he uses his body to move them through to where he has stashed the lube, keeps kissing him as he backs him toward the mattress he has topped with piles of blankets and pillows gathered from every corner of the Gallagher household (and washed on a super high heat to remove any trace of Frank that might have been lingering), keeps kissing him, though not with a whole lot of finesse as he lowers them both down horizontal and reaches blindly around the side of the mattress for his little kit of supplies, and Mickey just keeps kissing him back.

Back when Mickey had first come around the Tamp and Grind, refusing to order his drink the way he wanted and barely looking Ian in the eyes some days, he would never have imagined, in a million years, that Mickey loved kissing as much as he does. But he really fucking does. He’s almost always the first one to lean in, and never the first one to pull away, he leads with his lips, a total kiss slut, and Ian loves it, loves that he is maybe the only person to know it. He kisses him and kisses him and gets hold of the lube and kisses him and vows that he will never deny Mickey a kiss when he wants it. He deserves all the kisses.

Although maybe he needs to take a breath, his thoughts are getting a little loopy.

He gets the lube on his fingers and fumbles around beneath them, sliding two straight back in to Mickey’s hole without much pre-amble and smiles when Mickey gasps beneath him.

“Yeah?” He asks, not really pulling his face back from Mickey’s, their mouths still connected though not quite in a kiss.

“Fuckin’ warn a guy” Mickey murmurs, lipping at Ian’s bottom lip a little, not quite a kiss, not anything really but some contact.

“How’s this for a warning?” He brings his ring finger into play, running it along Mickey’s rim to position it in the sort of ridge formed by his other two fingers and pushing, just a little, before pulling back again.

Mickey sucks in a deep breath, blowing it back out warm over Ian’s mouth as the finger slides in next to the others. There are so many sensations, warm breath on his face, soft hairs against his cheek threatening to tickle, sticky skin pulling against his own wherever they move, and the sucking heat surrounding his fingers, Ian revels in in, how completely physically consumed he is by this man, how absolutely lost he is to anything outside of his body and Mickey’s body right now.

He twists his fingers and pulls out a little before pushing back in, trying to give him a little stretch on every move, he grins at Mickey, thinking about why he needs the stretch, and Mickey’s returning grin is filthy and harsh.

“You gonna fuck me Gallagher?” He grunts as Ian makes his two main fingers into a scissor inside of him.

“Uh-huh.” Another kiss, another thrust, and now Mickey’s hand is worming in between them to grab at Ian’s dick, firm and sure in a way that makes Ian jolt.

“Think you got what it takes?” He starts up a stroke, nice and light, not letting his hand catch where Ian is sticky from pre-come, and Ian gives him a couple of thrusts in time with his fingers and fuck it feels really fucking good.

“Fuckin’ know I do. You’re desperate for it.”

Mickey licks his grinning lips, thumbing at the head of Ian’s dick.

“That right?” He squeezes a little, and Ian jerks.

“Fuckin’ greedy for it, you think you can take it?” He needs a condom, where did he leave them? He knows it was close by. He throws his arm out over their heads, feeling blindly as he sucks on Mickey’s lips. He comes up triumphant, waving it between their faces with a grin which Mickey returns, eyebrow cocking up toward his hairline.

“Only one way to find out man.” Mickey says, and all at once they are moving together, getting the packet open, getting Ian suited up and ready, and then both of their hands are there, covering him together, guiding him together, until he is finally sinking into the sucking heat of Mickey’s body and the both of them stop breathing for a minute as he slides all the way in.

It’s like time stops still. Like the whole world shrinks down to just him and Mickey and the points of contact between them, the heat that surrounds his cock and the light hairs tickling his elbow where it is bracketing Mickey’s arm, the short bursts of air that are passing between them as they kind of gape open-mouthed at each other, adjusting, feeling.

He thinks he could stay there like that forever, just locked inside Mickey for the rest of time, and be perfectly content with his lot in life. Mickey, though, he senses, is about to get restless.

He opens his mouth, no doubt to give Ian some patented Milkovich sass, so Ian takes his moment, right before Mickey speaks, and strikes, pulling out almost all the way in one swift movement, before grinding his way back in, pushing even further when he bottoms out so that Mickey’s hips tilt up off the mattress and a short grunt comes punching out of Mickey’s mouth.

He seems to like that move, so Ian goes with it, adjusting his weight so that he is able to grab hold of a seductively thick thigh in each hand and push upwards, holding Mickey’s weight so he can pull out again and grind back in, using every ounce of muscle control he’s worked so hard for to tilt his hips at just the right angle and push himself forward at just the right pace to get Mickey’s knees to twitch and his thighs to clench around him.

He goes at it like that for as long as he can, sweating and gasping and rolling his hips, rewarded for each thrust with a soft breathy ‘uhn’ from Mickey and the occasional half-hearted bite to his jaw or his ear or, at one point, his nose, though he does wonder if that was just bad aim. He doesn’t know how long he manages, maybe a minute, maybe less, before he starts to get that tight feeling in the base of his spine and his toes start to tingle and clench. His movements grow less smooth, less sure, jerking forcefully instead of gliding with purpose and he hopes he’s done enough to get Mickey there as well because this is apparently going to be a short performance.

‘Mick,’ he manages to gasp, eyes zeroing in for a second on a sweaty lock of hair that’s dangling out of place, ‘Mick, I’m—’, the force of his breaths blows the hair away again and Mickey’s face, flushed and glistening with sweat, comes back into focus.

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Mickey says, hushed and dark and right there with him, thank fuck. Glassy eyes lock onto Ian’s for just a second before Mickey’s reaching down between them to get a hold of his own cock and the sensation forces them closed, head tipping back, hips jolting upward with a force that nearly knocks Ian sideways. He pulls back, bringing Mickey with him so that he’s resting back on his knees, Mickey splayed basically in his lap. He does his best to grip Mickey’s hips despite the sweat and his waning co-ordination, juddering through the last thirty seconds of thrusts as Mickey urgently strips his cock, bringing himself to the edge and throwing himself off it seconds after Ian shudders and jolts and grinds to a seizing halt. He empties into the condom with great heaving groans, laughing as Mickey’s face twists up in bemusement at the noises he makes. A whole body shiver runs all the way through him and he leans into it, shaking his shoulders and head like a dog, spraying sweat everywhere and arching his back into a stretch.

It’s only when Mickey grunts and gives him a half-hearted kick against his right side that he realizes all of this movement is probably a bit much for the man he’s still inside of thirty seconds after he’s blown his load.

‘Fuck.’ He breathes, running his hands over Mickey’s hips in a way that he hopes is at least a little soothing. ‘Sorry.’

Mickey’s whole body seems to go limp, legs flopping down, head tipping back onto the mattress as his breathing slows. There is a small bruise starting to come through just beneath his clavicle, a dark blue just beginning to bloom, and Ian is struck with the overwhelming urge to taste it.

He tips forward, softening cock slipping out with the movement and earning another grunt out of Mickey, whose hands are covering his face now but who adjusts his body to the shifting weight of Ian leaning down over him. He brings his arms down around Ian to run light fingers over his back as Ian mouths gently at the darkening mark. They catch their breaths with soft touches and light kisses, Ian can hear the slowing thud of Mickey’s heart beneath his skin and he tries to match his own against it, breathing slow into his chest, contemplating what it might feel like if they were to somehow become one single being.

Mickey’s fingers in his hair tug him back to reality, and his brain suddenly starts whirring in a different direction, one that plants the seed of worry as he goes back over the last half hour, cataloguing everything he could have done different, better.

“Sorry.” He says again, propping his chin up on Mickey’s chest so he can look up at him. “That was—I can do better than that.”

Mickey waves a dismissive hand between them before planting it back in his hair.

“Nah,” He says, twisting a damp curl just starting to form around his middle finger, “you’re a fucking stud Gallagher.”

It’s dumb, and it pulls a groaning laugh out of Ian, but it’s enough to quiet his doubting mind and he buries his face in between Mickey’s pecs as the both of them give in to a few giggles.

“I can do better, though.” He says eventually, “I got a bit overwhelmed but usually I don’t just lose my shit like that.”

Mickey pulls at his hair, forcing him to look back up and meet Mickey’s eyes, cool and sharp, assessing Ian as they look him over.

“Alright,” He says at length, dropping his head back and giving Ian a couple of gentle pats on the shoulder, “well give me a minute to get the feeling back in my legs and you can prove it to me.”

...

part b coming soon??

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

Pretty little letters 2

Dbf Negan x fem reader

Synopsis - After finishing college you decide to on a gap year to take a breather after many years of hard. Setting out to travel the country, you promise to write to your dad every week, what happens when his best friend Negan makes you promise to write to him too.

Warnings- No apocalypse AU, dads best friend, large age gap, feelings, love confessions, adventures, reader travelling, reader described as female, mentions of cheating, Negan is the one cheated on in this fic by ex wife, struggles with feelings, dad finding out about relationship, some angst, obviously not canon at all, smut in this chapter, p in v, unprotected sex, both reader and Negan are consent king and queen. So yeah 18+ only please.

Let me know if I’ve left anything out

Word count - 6.1K (sorry another long one)

This is two of two chapters in this mini series.

_______________________________________

Waking up the next morning was a task in itself, your head was pounding, and the light filtering in from the cheap motel curtains was making things worse. You looked over at the wall clock 9:00am, pulling yourself up with a groan you headed for the shower, once in you began lathering yourself with soap to remove the stale alcohol smell. God last night was a blur, a few flashbacks start filling your mind, you remember sitting with a few women who invited you to their booth for some drinks, and you remember leaving before they dragged you onto the dance floor.

As the warm water spray roused you more you remember staggering home and passing out, ‘could have been way worse’ you think to yourself. After brushing your teeth and packing up your room, you grab your phone and car keys and make your way into town to find somewhere to eat. Maybe a good breakfast will help, although luckily your head hurts more than you felt nauseous.

Walking into a cute little diner you sit down and ask the waitress for pancakes, whilst waiting for your breakfast you pulled out your notebook and pen, deciding it was the perfect time to write your letters, it’s been a while since you’d written properly to your dad, and after your conversation with him last night you felt guilty. Thinking back on the phone calls of last night though your stomach drops, Negan and his date, argh! Surely he won’t go? He really didn’t seem that keen on it, you needed to put it out of your mind today, just be in the moment of the day! So you write your dad a little letter explaining where your off to next, before moving on to Negan's.

Hey Negan,

I’m currently sat in a cute little 50s style diner, I’m hoping breakfast cures this hangover a bit.

Maybe I had a little too much fun last night, though sitting with the middle aged women having a girls night seemed to be the right call, as I made it back to my room in one piece!

I’m going to head through New Mexico today on my way to LA, planing some stops on the way though. Going to stop in Arizona and see the Grand Canyon, I’ve always wanted to see it, maybe visit my best friend Gemma who lives in Tucson now, her and her husband have recently bought a puppy so I’m gonna be right in there!!

I hope you and dad are doing well this week, I miss you both a lot today, and please make sure dad doesn’t burn the garden shed down with his BBQ this weekend!

With love

Y/N

Xxx

On your way back to the car, you post the letters in the postal box on the sidewalk. The warm breeze kisses your skin as you walk, leaving goosebumps in its wake, it’s a beautiful day and you take pleasure in the little things that morning. Birds chirping, children laughing in the streets, a man who is dancing down the road with his headphones blaring out classic rock, not a care in his mind as to who may be watching.

Once back in your car you set your sat nav for a small town in the Gila National Forest, New Mexico and hit start, you’ll see how far you can get in a day, as you’re excited to get to Arizona. Whilst turning up your music you hear your phone buzz, ‘I’ll get that later you think’ eager to get going this morning, you have a long drive ahead of you.

_______________________________________

The flight had been awful, he was squished between a screaming child and a sweaty bald man, who felt it appropriate to tell Negan his life story. So once he had stepped through customs he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, good god he thought that was hell, but at least he will be with you in just shy of an hour, checking his watch he checked the time 8:30am he had time.

Once he secured a taxi he gave the man the motels address and counted the minutes down, he couldn’t wait to pull you into his arms and tell you he felt the same, that there’s no way he’s going to go on this date, that the only women he wants is you. Checking his watch again 9:35am and only 10 minutes until he’s at the motel, he ran over in his mind again everything he needed to tell you, he hasn’t ever declared love to someone before and he wants it to be perfect. He runs a hand through his salt and pepper hair, he’s so nervous and he doesn’t know why? It’s you! He’s never been nervous around you.

“Here we are sir, Eunice south motel”, “Thank you” Negan answers, handing the man his money before grabbing his bags out the trunk, once the cab had left he made his way over to the reception, entering he found a young lad at the desk, he must have been 19 at the very oldest. “Hello sir, welcome to Eunice south motel, are you checking in?” He reads it out like a scripted monologue that’s ingrained into his brain. “Hello there, I’m wandering if you can help me, see I’m looking for a young woman, she checked in yesterday. She’s called y/n y/l/n, she is about this tall ‘Gestures with hand’ and she has h/c hair.” Negan asks.

“Oh yes! I do know who you mean, she was in room 27” the boy answers.

“What do you mean was?” Negan asks.

“Yeah well she checked out this morning, about 20 minutes ago actually, you just missed her” the boy nervously answers again.

Panic sets it, your gone how can you be gone already!

“Did she say where she was going at all?” Negan asks.

“Said something about finding some breakfast in town”

“Ok thanks” Negan responds before rushing out and calling another cab, hoping he can find you before you drive off. He tries calling your phone but it goes straight to voicemail. “Shit!” He mutters before deciding it was quicker to jog into town than wait for the cab to arrive. Hauling his backpack and duffle on to his shoulders he starts a steady jog into town.

Once he arrives he notices a 50s diner, that would be the exact kind of place you would go he thinks. Upon entering he asks the waitress if she has seen you, “Yes I’ve seen a girl matching that description, how do I know you’re not a pervert chasing her though hmm?” The waitress sneered, reluctantly Negan fished his phone out of his pocket, showing the waitress his Lock Screen, it was a photo of you and him, his arm looped around your shoulders pulling you in close, big grins on both your faces.

Negan was loosing time and patience, “Please have you seen her?” He asks once more. “Yeah I saw her she left about ten minutes ago, she left this accidentally” the waitress mentions, handing him your debit card. “Shit” he mumbles again, “She isn’t going to get far without that” he sighs. “Ok thank you I’ll see if I can track her down” he says as he leaves, your card in hand.

_______________________________________

You’re singing along without a care in the world, your phone is still buzzing in your pocket. You will check it once you stop for gas, you’d need to stop soon looking at the dash it’s saying there’s only 80 miles left.

Spotting one ahead you pull in, pulling out your purse when you notice it, your card is gone “Fuck!” You call out to no one. Luckily you noticed before you put gas in, pulling out your phone you notice you have 5 missed calls from Negan, that’s odd he doesn’t usually call that many times knowing you’re busy. You’ll have to call him back later you have bigger things to deal with right now, walking into the shop part you ask if they take Apple Pay, to which they state no. Groaning you go back out to your car, pulling it forward and out of the way of the pumps.

What are you going to do now?

You call your dad but he doesn’t answer, probably busy with work, you could call Negan back see what he could do, but he’s the other side of the country, there’s no way he could help. Sighing you close your eyes and groan, did you even have enough fuel to go back to the diner, that must be where you left it. But it’s 100 miles back and you only have 80 at a push! Checking google, there’s a town with your bank in ahead you could get a new card issued, that’s only 70 miles away, cutting it close but it’s the best option you had.

Searching your glove box for your phone charger you came across a scrunched up ball, pulling it out you found it was a $20 dollar bill and a $10 dollar bill. “Yes!” You cheer, that can definitely get enough gas to get me to the next town, once your car was filled as much as you could afford you set off once more.

Little did you know Negan was frantically trying to catch you up, now in another cab following the route that he was praying you took.

_______________________________________

You’d had success at the bank, another card would be ready for you to collect in the morning. They had also given you a cash withdrawal to pay for your motel tonight, all in all things weren’t too bad. You'd found a nice motel close by making it easy to walk over first thing, so with everything sorted you settled in your room for the evening.

Maybe you could find somewhere for dinner? You weren’t all that hungry though, you’d had a hell of a day and really you just wanted to rest. You’d spoken to your dad and assured him you’d sorted it, when he said he would leave now and come get you, you’d had to laugh though, he’d do anything to have you back earlier.

Laying yourself back on the beds itchy covers, you close your eyes, a nap may do you good.

Meanwhile Negan was going out of his mind, where were you! The cab driver was loosing his patience too, telling him to pick a motel and call someone else in the morning. He was just about to give up hope when he spotted your car in a motel carpark. “Stop! There! That’s her car!” He shouted, tears now filling his eyes from sheer relief! “Thank god for that” the cab driver muttered, Negan grabbed his bags with urgency, paid the driver and shot over to your car. That was definitely your number plate! He looked into the room behind the car, there you were, asleep on the bed safe and sound.

He gathered up all his courage before knocking on your door.

You shot up from the loud knock, it was heavy and urgent. You slowly shuffled to the door, as quietly as you could muster and peaked through the peep hole. Negan??? It was Negan, you grabbed the handle and swung the door open.

There he stood right in your doorway, with a face you couldn’t quite read, you usher him in closing the door “Negan what are you doing here? Not that it’s not good to see you! This is the best surprise ever! It’s just I’m confused why are you……..” your rambling was cut off by him flying forwards and smushing his lips against yours in a searing kiss, his hands found your cheeks as he pulled your body into his, after recovering from the shock, you threw your arms around his neck pulling him in even closer.

“I love you” kiss “So much” kiss “So Fucking Damn Much!” He punctuates between fierce kisses, you’re now struggling to stand upright, your legs buckling as so much emotion fills you, this is everything you’ve ever wanted. “I love you too Negan, so so much” you mumble against his swollen lips. He smiles against your mouth “I know, I got your text” you're confused now “My text?” You ask, “The one you sent me last night before you fell asleep” he mentions, now staring down at your beautiful face, memories start flooding back! You did text him, you told him not to go on the date and that you loved him.

Gasping your hand flies to your mouth, “Oh my goodness” you shake your head in embarrassment. “You were drunk weren’t you” he laughs, “Yeah a bit” you mumble still feeling incredibly flushed. “Hey” he moves your chin up to face him, “Don’t be embarrassed, I feel the same about you doll, I flew here! Chased you down in the back of a cab until I found you, god I sound like a stalker now don’t I?” He laughs, “No” you shake your head in disagreement, “I think it’s incredibly romantic, I’m so happy you found me!”, “Me too beautiful, me too” he agrees placing is forehead against yours.

“Oh I almost forgot! You left this at the diner” he mentions, handing you your debit card. “Oh ” you giggle, “I have already cancelled and replaced it, I’m collecting the new one in the morning.” You explain. “Hmm well maybe look after that one better” he laughs, you nod in agreement, before bringing your lips back to his in another passionate kiss.

Pulling him against you, you run your hands through his hair, slightly tugging the strands causing him to let out a low moan. Smirking at his reaction you do it again, tugging his bottom lip between your teeth in tandem. “Careful sweetheart, you’re going to start something you can’t finish” he groans, “Who says I don’t have every intention in finishing it!” You tease. He growls picking you up and throwing you onto the bed, before crawling over you and attaching his lips to yours once more.

You slowly start running your hand under his shirt exploring the planes of his toned chest, you can feel his heart thump under your fingertips, the rhythmic drumming grounding you, he is really here, this is really happening. “I love you” you blurt out once again, he smiles against your throat, “I love you too beautiful”. Moving your hand back down you tug at the hem of his shirt, “Are you sure sweetheart?” He asks, watching your features for any hesitation, “I’m sure Negan, you’re all I’ve ever wanted” you admit.

“Ok baby girl” he offers, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before shuffling back to stand up. He smiles down at you as he pulls his shirt off, you sit upright tugging your sleep shirt over your head leaving your top half bare, before bringing yourself onto your knees. “You’re so gorgeous sweetheart” he admires as his eyes run over the exposed parts of your body.

You run both hands over his chest again, the look of love and admiration on his face as he watches you, brings up a mix of strong emotions. You’ve never felt so loved or so wanted in your life, the few college boys you’d been with before never took their time like this, they never made you feel this special and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

Cupping your face in his large hands he pulls you in for another slow kiss, sweeping his tongue against your lips seeking entrance, which you grant happily, deepening the kiss. You move your hands downwards, fingers playing with his belt buckle, hesitating you break the kiss and look up at him, meeting his warm hazel eyes.

“Go on baby, I’m all yours” he whispers, that was all the confirmation you needed, you make quick work of his belt and jean buttons, before pulling them down his legs, he steps out of the offending material kicking it to the side. You lay back against the sheets lifting your hips, encouraging him to do the same to you. His fingers hook under your sleep shorts and panties before pulling them both off in one swoop, leaving you completely naked.

Kneeling at the foot of the bed he tugs sharply on your ankles, pulling them up and over his shoulders, bringing your soaked heat to his face. “This ok baby girl?” He asks, “Yes!” You reply pleadingly, lifting your hips a little as you speak, feeling like if he didn’t touch you soon you’d combust. “So needy baby” he teases, running his forefinger through your slit.

He groans when he feels just how wet you already are, “Shit baby, this all for me?” You whimper nodding frantically, “Negan please” you beg, becoming needier by the minute. He gives your inner thigh a playful nip before licking a firm stroke through your folds, you throw your head back with a breathy moan, fingers finding purchase in his hair.

He sets a steady pace, alternating between licking and suckling at your clit. He quickly learns what you like, as he starts working you open with his fingers, angling them upwards and reaching that spot that makes you see stars. “Fuck Negan I’m gonna come” you cry, reaching your peak fast. He works you through your high before pulling away and placing a gentle kiss to your hip bone.

As your catching your breath he pulls his boxers off and rejoins you on the bed, once more hovering over you. “Still sure baby?” He asks again, letting some self doubt fill his mind, he’s still unsure as to how someone as beautiful, young and brilliant as you, would want an old man like himself. “Yes, I told you, you’re all I’ve ever wanted Negan, please I want you” you answer, rolling your hips into his seeking that friction you so desperately needed. “Fuck baby girl, ok” he moans, taking himself in his hand he rubs the blunt end of his cock through your folds, before notching it at your entrance and sinking forward.

As your hips meet flush against one another you both let out deep moans, getting lost in the feeling of each other. “Shit baby you feel so good” he groans, “God I’ve thought about this for so long, I’ve needed you so much, can’t believe you’re now mine” he rambles, slowly thrusting in and out of your tight heat. “Fuck baby girl say it! Tell me you’re mine!” He begs, “I’m all yours Negan, fuck I’ve always been yours” you cry as you start meeting his thrusts.

The room is filled with the sounds of soft moans and broken gasps, you grab his shoulders pulling him in as close as you can, “Faster! Please go faster” you plead, moving your hips harder against his, he indulges you picking up speed, his movements becoming more frantic. “So close, don’t stop” you whine as the familiar feeling in your core builds, Negan moves his hand between your bodies rubbing your clit, causing your whines to grow louder, “That’s it baby girl let go for me” he encourages you, throwing your head back you give in to it coming hard, white hot pleasure cursing through you.

“Fuck! There you go baby, shit I’m close where do you want it” he asks, “Inside” you gasp another orgasm building, “I want it inside me” you affirm. His thrusts become rougher, rhythm becoming sloppy as he reaches his high stilling against you as he comes. You reach your high simultaneously, grasping onto him for dear life as you repeat his name like a mantra.

When your heart rates steady and the fog clears he looks down at you, removing a sweaty lock from your face, “you’re going to be the death of me, you know that baby girl?” You grin up at him, “Yeah but what a way to go huh?” You reply, he huffs out a laugh, “Yeah” he agrees, nuzzling in against your throat, “Let’s get cleaned up yeah?” He asks, “Yeah ok”.

Cuddled up in bed, drifting off in each others arms your heart felt so full. “I love you” you whisper before falling into a dreamless sleep.

_______________________________________

The next morning starts in a rather frantic rush, it was amazing to wake up beside the man you love, but you had a lot to get through. You’d managed though to go to the bank, collect your new card, grab breakfast together and pack up your room in just over an hour, leaving you feeling quite accomplished.

Walking out from your now vacant motel room Negan asks “So baby are you driving or am I?” You grin at him teasingly, “Oh you most certainly can drive! I want to relax. I’ve loved every minute of this trip, but it’s been heavy going” you admit. “You’ve got it sweet cheeks, today you can be my passenger princess” he proposes. You giggle at his comment as you enter the car, “So where too baby girl?” He asks, “Well I was heading towards Tucson to see Gemma and her new puppy” you mention, “Ok we will make our way there then, did you want to get it up on the sat nav?” He suggests. “But will you really want to come with me to see her?” You ask nerves settling in.

“Of course I do baby, I want to meet your friends, if you don’t want me to come with you, I can drop you off and collect you later?” He offered, “No I’d like to bring you with me, I guess I just got into my head” you sigh, “Hey sweetheart look at me” he says lifting your chin up to meet his gaze, “I am in this for the long haul baby, I don’t throw I love you around pointlessly, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you beautiful. So that means meeting your friends, your family and we do need to tell your dad.” He explains.

Your face falls at the mention of telling your dad, you would need to tell him, you couldn’t start a life with Negan and not tell your dad, and you knew Negan wouldn’t want to keep anything from him. The thought though terrified you, what if your dad can’t except it? What if he hits Negan?, shouts at you both? Refuses to talk to you? Fear sinks in your gut as you think of all the consequences.

“Hey darlin’ let’s not worry about it right now, but in the next week we need to tell him, yeah it may not go as well as we hope, but I can’t live without you, so we will have to make him see won’t we?” He asks, and he’s right, you cannot live without him either! You want the whole lot with Negan, a home together, marriage, maybe a dog? “Yeah ok your right we do need to tell him, just not today. Let us just live in this bubble another day?” You ask, “Yeah ok sweetheart” he smiles, before putting the car into drive and heading out to the highway.

_______________________________________

You’d reached Tucson by 2pm and after giving Gemma a quick call from an hour out, she’d told you she was home and excited to see you. Pulling up outside the address she gave you, your nerves were replaced by excitement of seeing your best friend again. As you got out of the car her front door was thrown open as she bolted out to meet you! “Y/N!!! Oh my god it’s so good to see you!” She gushes throwing her arms around you in a fierce hug, one you returned effortlessly. “I know!! It’s been too long! How are you? And where is this cute puppy I’ve heard so much about?” You ask excitedly.

“Oh he’s inside with Alex!! Gosh, I haven’t seen you since my wedding day home in Virgina! How’s your dad? Oh and your Nan? Are they well? We have so much to catch up on!!!” She rambles out without so much as a breath. You laugh at her antics, “Dad and Nan are both well yeah” you return. She looks up from you then and clocks Negan behind you, “And who is this?” She asks teasingly, grinning like a Cheshire Cat! You step back grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers together, “This is Negan” you answer, recognition flashes on her face, “As in the Negan? Your dads best friend? The one you’ve been in love with for years?” She whispers into your ear, he hears though, laughing at her very loud whisper.

“That would be me, but I’m lucky enough to be her partner now” Negan replies, you smile at him and then back at Gemma “Sooo puppy?” You ask again, Gemma giggles “I swear you’re more excited to meet the dog than see me!!” She laughs, “Well yeah?” You offer smiling.

The afternoon was great, you and Gemma sit on her kitchen floor playing with the puppy, while Alex and Negan talk about guy stuff and you can’t help but smile at how easily he gets on with everyone around him, despite being a couple of decades older than you all. It all feels so effortless, and you can’t help but feel excited for your future together.

Once alone Gemma asks you “So you haven’t told your dad yet?”, “No not yet, it’s only been a couple of days that it’s been official you know? I wanted to live in this happy bubble before my dad bursts it. I know he won’t be happy” you sigh, “Well if you two were this obvious before, then I think he already knows, or is at least waiting for it to happen.” She offers, “What do you mean?” You ask confused. “Y/N, you look at each other like the other hung the moon in the sky, you are obviously very much in love, and that didn’t happen over night. I’m telling you he knows something, your dad isn’t a stupid man. I think he’d be more upset if you kept it from him now it’s happened, than the actual happening of it, if that makes sense babe?” She asks.

“Yeah, it does. I just worry because I can’t loose him you know?” You sigh, “I know and you won’t, you’re an adult remember? He can’t stop you both being together” she offers giving you a playful nudge, you nod at her giving a small smile. You are still worried though about how this will all go. Just then the men walk back into the room breaking your train of thought, “You’ll both stay for dinner yeah?” Alex offers, “Yeah that would be lovely thank you” you smile.

The journey to the motel that night was quiet, you were deep in thought and Negan didn’t want to pry and make you uncomfortable, he ran a gentle, comforting hand over your thigh. “We need to tell him” you blurt out, “My dad I mean, we need to tell him, Gemma is right, he’d be more upset about us not telling him than anything else” you offer, he gives a deep sigh glancing at you “Yeah I think she’s right too, when did you want to do it baby?” He asks.

“Tonight” you declare, “The longer we leave it the worse it will be” you decide. “Ok baby girl.” He agrees. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t shitting it, but it needed to happen, he couldn’t have a life with you in secret.

_______________________________________

It’s been an hour now, an hour you’ve been sat in the motel room. Well Negan is sat, watching you from his spot on the bed, as you pace back and forth the room clutching your phone. “Sweetheart, just call him it will be ok, I’m right here.” He comforts, grasping your hand as you try and pace past him again.

“Ok ok” you give a deep sigh before calling your dads cell phone. “Hey kiddo! It’s been a couple of days, everything ok?” You dad asks, “Yeah dad I’m fine, actually I’m really good. I’m in Tucson I’ve just got back from seeing Gemma” you mention, “Oh that’s great honey, how is she it’s been a year since her wedding!” Your dad answers, “Yeah she’s good, her and Alex have a new puppy, he’s super cute” you say, “Aww that’s good, you spent the day playing with him then?” He asks, “Yeah that, and just catching up you know?” You reply, “Yes I know well how you two get when you are catching up” he laughs.

“So I have something I need to tell you” you say biting your nails nervously, “Ok kiddo? You ok?” He asks, “Yeah like I said I’m really good ummm, Negan’s here with me” you say, “Negan is with you? What as in right now?” Your dad asks and you can hear the confusion in his voice, “Yeah as in right now, here in my motel room with me” you say nervously, “Hey Mike” Negan speaks up, confirming he was in fact with you.

“Negan’s with you in Tucson? In your motel room with you? Why is he there with you? How is he there, he was here just a couple of days ago.” Your dad asks his voice becoming more frustrated while he tries to put together what is going on. “Yeah he flew out to me a couple of nights ago dad” you respond, you know you are beating around the bush, buying time but the anxiety is overfilling now.

“Put him on the phone Y/N!” Your dad demands, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea dad, just talk to me” you deflect, but Negan hands out his hand for your phone, reluctantly you hand it over to him. “Hey Mike it’s me” Negan answers, “Do you want to tell me why you are in a motel room in Arizona with my daughter Negan, because I am really struggling to understand this.” Your dad asks angrily, “Well it’s a long story, but in short she admitted her feelings to me so I flew to her to tell her I felt the same way” Negan answered, trying to keep as calm as possible.

“Feelings? What feelings Negan?” He was definitely confused, his mind not quite catching up with everything, or wanting to ignore what he already knows. “I love your daughter Mike, I have for a very long time, and I think deep down you’ve known this a while too” Negan replies, “Well I knew you two were close, and I had suspicions, but I never really put much thought into it. She’s young enough to be your daughter Negan!” Your dad shouts, “I know that, I know the age gap isn’t ideal Mike but I love your daughter very much. This isn’t some fling I want to assure you of that, I’ve never felt this way before. I want a life with your daughter, a home together, the whole nine yards.” Negan explains calmly hoping to make your dad understand.

“I’m going to need some time to come to terms with this….. I need to go” beeep, the phone line goes dead and you look down at Negan worriedly. “Come here baby girl, it’s going to be ok, he’ll come around” he says pulling you into his arms. “He just needs some time, we did the right thing not keeping it from him” he continues, kissing the side of your head.

Later that night while Negan is softly snoring behind you, you lay awake worrying. Your phone buzzing tears you from your thoughts, it’s a message from your dad.

Hey kiddo

I have to know how long has this been going on really? Xx

Hey dad

We were being honest, it’s been just over 24 hours, we couldn’t keep it from you. Although we hid our feelings from each other for years this is very new. I love him too though Daddy, I can’t live without him now, and you know he’s a good man, he won’t hurt me. I don’t expect you to understand it, I just hope you can come to except it.

Xx

Hey kiddo

Thank you for telling me from the start, I’m glad you don’t ever keep things from me. And I can appreciate how hard that was to do, I need some time ok? But I love you that will never change ok? Xx

Ok dad, love you too xx

_______________________________________

You both spent another two weeks travelling, you saw the Grand Canyon and it literally blew you away, but that niggling feeling in your heart kept twinging “We need to head home Negan, I need to see him and fix this, I haven’t heard from him in weeks” you say, “Ok sweetheart, let’s go home” he agreed, he hated seeing you so churned up.

Arriving back in Connecticut felt weird, seeing the familiar streets pass by in a blur, as you head to your home street. Pulling up in your drive you notice your dads truck is there, signalling he was home. Negan gives your leg a gentle squeeze “Come on baby, let’s sort this out yeah?” He asks, “Yeah” you sigh exiting the car.

Entering your house you take in its familiarity, you let that in itself comfort you. Taking Negan’s hand in yours you make your way through to the kitchen, you notice your dad in the garden mowing the lawn, no wonder he hasn’t come greet you.

You tap loudly on the window causing him to snap his head up, emotion filling his features when he sees it’s you. He kicks off the mower and rushes inside, you let go of Negan’s hand and throw your arms around your dad. “What are you doing home kiddo? Not that I’m not happy to have you home! It’s just your not due back for months” he asks, “I couldn’t be away with everything up in the air dad, I had to come home and see you.” You admit.

Your dad looks over your shoulder at Negan and then back at you before giving you a small nod, “Yeah ok let’s sort this” he sighs motioning for everyone to head into your living room.

“So I’ve had some time to think it through, and I guess I did always notice something between you both. I guess I just hoped I was wrong” your dad starts, his confession causing Negan to wince, “But you are both my favourite people on this god forsaken Earth, and I do want you to both be happy. So I will except it, but I can’t say I understand it” he offers.

You go to speak but your dad cuts you off “I also know that you won’t listen to anything I say y/n so there’s no point going there. It’s not like I can stop two adults from being together. But if you ever hurt her Negan I swear to god” he threatens, “Absolutely man, I’d expect no less” Negan agrees. “Ok then, come here kiddo” he offers pulling you into another hug. Then he turns to Negan shakes his hand and gives him an awkward side hug, “I’m trusting you ok buddy, with the most important thing in my life, you understand that?” Your dad asks, “Yeah I know, I can promise you I will love and cherish her for every day I have left” Negan affirms.

Your dad gives him a nod, “Ok then guys it’s Friday night, so pizza and a board game?” Your dad offers, “Sounds perfect dad” you smile, snuggling into Negan on the sofa,

Just like that everything was right again, you were home with your boys eating pizza and fighting over monopoly, everything was as it should be.

Taglist

@lanadelnegan @lunajay33 @akah565

[genuflecting]

this feels like Christmas Eve but for gay affirming media deprived adults

[whatimdoing-here]

WARRIOR NUN | 1.08-all of S2 | Camila, captain of the ship.

[m-eltdown]

late nights make me miss people i should never want to see again

[andromedism]

In 2017, I watched “The Gang Tends Bar” as it aired live, and it’s all kind of a blur but I remember three things very clearly:

Sunnyblr was POPPING. To this day, I still see TGTB posts floating around with 10k notes and they are all still so fucking good. My beautiful relics of an absolutely insane time.

Airing A Crickets Tale that very next week is probably one of the most chaotic things that was happening to Tumblr at that time. We were all like, “Mmm, thanks for whatever that was, RCG! So yummy! Now can we have another helping of repressed middle-aged gay men?” and they said, “Okay, sure! Here’s more of that but make it foreboding,” and aired “Dennis’ Double Life” the very next week after THAT.

I didn’t sleep the night TGTB aired. I was a freshman in college and I went to class the next day and just stared at nothing during my lecture because I was so blown away by it. At 18, it was one of the most formative experiences I’ve ever had with television. Raw, emotional moments have always been so much more impactful to me in comedic shows. I still consider it one of the most romantic episodes of any show I’ve ever seen. I’m 25 now, and I have never forgotten the way I felt the first time I saw this episode. My life is entirely different now from February of 2017, but my feelings about TGTB are exactly the same if not intensified.

Bonus Big Feelings:

Once you’ve watched “Dennis’ Double Life,” TGTB reads so differently—it hurts so much more. Because you know how it ends for them and you never get closure. YOU NEVER GET CLOSURE.

Something about Glenn’s hair being outstandingly hot in S12 really brought everything together, that year + heightened the pining. He would do something and we’d all be like “ok work!”

Season 16 is the closest I’ve felt to Season 12 levels of deranged. I think this makes sense since S16, stylistically, reminds me the most of classic Sunny and somehow, also, every macden fic I’ve ever read.

I never had a good reference point for whether other people outside of Sunnyblr read that episode as incredibly queer, or Just Guys Being Dudes, but most of my comms class watched this show, and we were all foaming at the mouth talking about it the next day. Everyone was like, “Oh my god! It’s getting gayer! We won!”

Reflecting on where I was in life when TGTB, and when this most recent season aired, I can’t help but wonder where we’ll all be if they touch noses. Season 24 is our seasons guys.

[sandushengshou]

xiao zhan appreciation [28/ ∞]