#and now it’s that but also ‘we’re worried about him I’ll keep him safe I’ll protect him and make sure he’s doing okay’

[changingplumbob]

Foster Household: Chapter 9, Part 9

CW: Mental Health Struggles - Guide to content warnings

Even Sulani was not immune from rain. Carson got out of bed at the cry of his alarm and headed to his bathroom. He liked that there was more space, and it had a nice view even with the downpour, but it didn’t make having to shave before school any easier. When he was clean and dressed and finished breakfast he decided to call his older sister, just to check about sharks.

Carson: I know it’s early but can you please tell me if sharks can break through my floor

Marta: Hola Carson, Keira is in the shower

Carson: Oh, sorry, I didn't even think about you answering her phone

Marta: It’s bueno. She told me on honeymoon sharks are pretty safe. Most attacks are from thinking a human is a fish. They will not break through your floor

Carson: Are you sure

Marta: Si, I promise. She said from underneath surfboards look like seals *laughs* isn’t that cute? But your house will not look like a big seal

Kayleigh had the day off and spent it doing what she loved most, painting! After finishing a particularly excellent painting she got a call from her regular gallery. News around the town was that Kayleigh Foster was now a global superstar! They hoped she would remember them in her future works and they had recommended her for a star of fame in Del Sol Valley! Once she got a call from the council she couldn’t contain her excitement and called around her family to let them know.

Charlie: You’re really going to get a star?

Kayleigh: That’s the rumor. You’ll all come right? I couldn’t have done it without my family. And after maybe everyone can stay for a couple of days, this house has enough room

Charlie: Of course but don’t you want to celebrate like... without your kids

Kayleigh: Your dad suggested a dinner party for my friends tonight which will be nice. He’s going to ring around on his afternoon break

When Carson got home he congratulated his mum and sat down to do his homework where he could talk to her and his eldest sister.

Carson: So everyone will be invited to stay? Even Reece?

Kayleigh: *sighs* You’ll be at school a lot of the time, don’t worry about Reece

Charlie: Besides, he’s less snarky with you when Samir is around. It’s like he tries to be well behaved or something

Carson: Charlie you know he tried convincing me Samir is a werewolf! As if I'd fall for that

Kayleigh: Actually that is true

Charlie: Mum... have you been inhaling the paint fumes for to long?

Kayleigh: No! Samir told me. Your dad and I have discussed it at length. It’s strange but true

Charlie: When were you going to tell us?

Kayleigh: I wasn’t but clearly Reece doesn’t mind you knowing

Carson: Great, another thing he can make fun of me for not knowing

Kayleigh: I know you two fight but he loves you really

Charlie: Have you told him about the OCD yet

Carson: No. Do you think I should?

Kayleigh: It’s always your choice darling

Carson: Maybe. I’ll think about it since he’s willing to open up about Samir

Kayleigh: Do you want to invite some friends over? Me and your dad will be out here with our guests so the living room will be empty

Carson: Yeah I’ll see if the guys and Onyx are free, thanks Mum

Charlie: Mum that picture is gorgeous, is that Ariel? Can I have it? Please please please

Kayleigh: *laughs* Okay firstborn, it’s yours

Charlie: YES

Harvey greeted the guests as they arrived to celebrate his wife. Most of them were from back when they lived in Willow Creek but Kayleigh had also asked him to invite two he’d never met before, Suzanna and Adam Kightstone.

Harvey: Nice to meet you. I’m glad you could make the trip from Chestnut Ridge

Suzanna: Of course! She deserves a celebration

Adam: Oh wow, look at all her art! This is so much more than the gallery pieces

Harvey: Yes if she paints masterpieces she likes to keep them at home

Kayleigh: Food everyone! We’ve made a gorgeous salad for starters

Suzanna: Now remember we’re here for my friend, not to fly off the handle if the food isn’t right

Adam: Alexander is the food critic, I just do art

Suzanna: Adam I’m serious. She’s never judged us for being aliens, it’s important

Adam: Don’t worry starlight, I can keep a level head for a night for you. Let’s go see what humans choose to put in their salads, how many fruits do you think we'll find?

Bob: You must be proud

Harvey: Oh I am! How a fisherman like me managed to catch her I’ve no idea. Anyway we’ll be celebrating your success soon. Bob is a chef see

Adam: Oh yes I’ve read the reviews, everyone seems to love your food. Any plans of opening your own place?

Bob: Eventually but I know Eliza would like me to have a stable well paying job for a while first, especially now we have Tiana. She’s our youngest, we adopted her

Suzanna: I would have loved a girl but we have two boys

Bob: Well just wait until they grow up, Onyx surprised me, and Aaron's Artemisia. You may have a daughter under your roof and just not know it yet

Calista: If Emisia ever crosses a line just tell us and we’ll talk to her about her manners

Kayleigh: From what I can tell Carson isn’t too bothered by her. He was a bit stressed after prom but I think he has girl on the brain for now

Aaron: It’s a relief there’s some kids that are unbothered

Eliza: Fergus is also unbothered worse luck

Aaron: I know you think Emisia is a bad influence but-

Eliza: Oh they have always been thick as thieves. I don’t think I could pry their friendship apart with a crowbar. It helps that she has a lawyer for a dad though, hopefully that'll stop them getting up to anything illegal

Previous ... Next

[loonylupinblack3]

Overprotective

Pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, intoxication, suggestions of violence occurring (nothing actually happens just very brief suggestion)

Summary: Going to the club and getting drunk without your overprotective boyfriend is never a good idea

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: posting bc of max's win in china

Max had always been protective of you. Since as long as you can remember Max had acted like your protector, stopping you from doing risky things and helping you when you did them anyway and hurt yourself.

You were childhood best friends, having known each other since you were five and he was six, brought together by a love of karting. As time passed and the two of you grew up, your relationship stayed strong, but changed. Feelings grew between the two of you, though it took until you were 21 before you two did anything about it.

So you were used to Max’s slightly overprotective tendencies. It was second nature to you, as familiar to you as breathing. However, that didn’t mean it didn’t get on your nerves from time to time, like tonight for instance. You were supposed to be going out with your girlfriends to a newly opened club, but Max was having some trouble letting you go.

He raised his eyebrows when he saw you enter the living room from his seat on the couch, eyes roaming your body. You were wearing a cliche club outfit; short black dress, heels, and bangles on your arm. You could see the appreciativeness in Max’s gaze, but also concern.

“You look nice,” he said, putting his phone down.

You smiled and gave a little spin. “Thank you. It’s the dress I got on Tuesday.”

Max stayed silent for a moment, considering what to say. “You look very beautiful, Schatz, don’t get me wrong…. But is that what you’re wearing out?”

“Is there something wrong with it?”

Max hesitated again. “It’s just… it’s not very restaurant friendly.”

You made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth. You had wondered briefly why Max had been so calm about you going clubbing, but you’d brushed it off thinking he just didn’t mind it. Now you knew it was because he didn’t actually know.

“Well, Max, that’s because we’re going clubbing, not to a restaurant,” you say slowly, waiting with baited breath for his reaction.

Max blinked, surprised. “You’re what?”

“We’re going clubbing….”

Max opened his mouth then closed it, clearing his throat. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged. “I thought you knew.”

Max raised an eyebrow. “You thought I knew you were going clubbing? Even though I didn’t say anything about it? Or warn you about drinking too much?”

You grimaced. “I know how it sounds but I genuinely didn’t realise you didn’t know.”

Max sighed. “I know, I trust you. I just don’t know if going clubbing is a good idea.”

“But it’s already been decided. And I got dressed up.”

You pouted slightly and Max rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. Me and the girls have sorted everything out.”

Max started. “You mean it’s just going to be you girls alone? What about Izzy’s boyfriend Liam? Or Kate’s boyfriend? They’re not going?”

“It’s a girls night,” you reminded him. “No boys allowed.”

“Schatz….” Max warned. “I don’t feel comfortable letting you go to the club alone.”

“I’m not going to be alone-”

“You’ll be with a group of girls, all of you vulnerable and easy to prey on,” Max said sternly. “I’m not trying to be mean, but without a man around you there are certain people who will take that as an opportunity to try and hurt you.”

You sighed. “I know Max, but we’re fine. We know one of the bartenders and he’s promised to keep an eye out for us, plus Liam will be driving us home so we have a ride. Seriously, you don’t need to worry.”

Max frowned, looking at your face for any trace of doubt. “I always worry about you.”

“I know, but I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Max continued thinking before eventually conceding, walking up to you and wrapping you into a tight hug. “Be safe,” he murmured into your ear.

You returned the embrace. “I always am.”

You pulled back, still in Max’s arms, and he tugged down your dress with a slight scowl. “Too short.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Goodbye Max.”

“Don’t drink too much,” Max said, “and text me when you’re coming home.”

You nodded your head and hugged him goodbye once more before leaving the apartment and your boyfriend. You knew he was worried, knew he’d probably be worried for the rest of the night and wait up for you, which made you feel guilty. He hadn’t prepared for you to go out clubbing, completely different from a tame meal at some restaurant, and you knew he’d be agonising over it for the rest of the night.

All you could do was answer his texts and make sure he knew you were safe. 

Except things didn’t go to plan.

You arrived at the club and everything was fine. You looked around, taking pictures of the new place, and greeted your bartender friend. You ordered some drinks and stayed by the bar for a bit, talking and catching up, before one of your wilder friends, Lily, suggested shots and then dancing. You weren’t much of a shot person, mostly because you were a lightweight, and you hadn’t planned on getting too drunk tonight but everyone was egging you on, and you didn’t want to be left out so you agreed, the four of you slamming down tequila shots like you did in college.

Then it was off to the dance floor, you, Lily, Kate and Izzy forming your own circle, dancing and laughing with one another. And you were having fun. You were feeling happy, giddy, and the only thing that would make this night better would be to have Max by your side.

You stepped out of the dance circle, moving back to the bar as you took out your phone. Noticing the multiple texts from Max left unanswered you felt a pang of guilt, but it was distant compared to the excitement you felt.

y/n: maxieeeeeeee

maxie❤️: you okay?

y/n: im the bset y/n: i mss yoi y/n: u shoud come tothe club

maxie❤️: are you drunk??

y/n: jst a litttle bit

y/n: lily siad shots

maxie❤️: you did shots? are you okay?

y/n: im grate

y/n: u should cmoe hree

y/n: i wnna party wth yoou

maxie❤️: already on my way

If you were sober, you probably would have picked up on the annoyed/concerned tone Max’s text had, but you were not sober, so you texted him a ‘yaaaaayyyyy’ and turned your phone off, waiting for what you thought was going to be your party ready boyfriend.

Instead, after you’d had another shot with your friends and continued dancing, you found yourself face to face with your concerned and worried boyfriend.

“Maxie!” you slurred, throwing your arms around your boyfriend in a hug. “Come dance with me!”

Max chucked, trying not to show his concern, but his tight hold on your waist gave him away. You pulled back and looked at him. “You are going to dance with me, right?”

Max sighed, manoeuvring you so you were off the dance floor. You were almost too drunk to notice, just clinging onto your boyfriend. “I’m here to take you home.”

“But I don't want to go home. I’m happy here,” you whined like a child.

Max muttered under his breath, “did I or did I not tell you not to drink too much.”

You frowned at his bad attitude. “I just want to dance.”

He shot you a look. “You can dance at home where you're safe, not in a club full of strangers while drunk out of your mind.”

You pouted but your boyfriend had already made his decision, half dragging half carrying you to where he parked his car. You knew better than to fight Max when he was like this, even drunk, so you sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, glaring at the road ahead of you while silently cursing Max and his stupid overprotectiveness. 

Max glanced at you as he drove. “I can tell you’re upset with me.”

“I was having fun,” you complained, “and you took me away from it.”

Max sighed. “I’m sorry Schatz, I am, but I wasn’t comfortable letting you stay in a club full of strangers drunk without me.”

You pouted again. “So why didn’t you just stay at the club with me?”

Max laughed a bit. “Because I only enjoy clubs when I’m drunk, and the whole purpose of me being there would be watching you while you’re drunk, not the other way round.”

It made sense even to your drunk brain- sort of -so you dropped the subject, letting Max off the hook. Maybe you’d argue with him in the morning when you were sober and had a better grasp on reality, but as Max parked in your driveway and helped you out of the car, all you wanted to do was curl up with your boyfriend and go to sleep, which is exactly what you did.

Max helped you undress and got as much makeup off your face as he was able to with his limited skill set and then got you into bed, laying down beside you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest where you sighed into it, content.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair.

Even drunk and half asleep, you still managed to reply, “I love you too.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

omg, imagine how the 141+ könig would react if reader fell asleep on them? not in a relationship i mean, maybe they are just sitting on the couch in the common room and reader is tired and falls asleep on one of them?

This is precious and also a mood lmao

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Doesn’t move a single. fucking. inch.

The man goes rigid in his attempt not to wake you, he knows how hard you work so it’s no wonder you’re nodding off in the common area, so to him, there’s nothing wrong with getting some rest

So he’s sitting there with his arms crossed over his chest, legs spread (as usual), and he’s fighting the urge to rest his head on yours, not his fault you seemed so comfortable

He’s glaring at every poor bastard and dares them to even try and make a comment

Needless to say, your sleep is undisturbed

Eventually you wake up and start apologizing profusely

“Don’t worry about it, sergeant. Just get to bed yeah?”

As you walked away, he rolled his shoulders and rubbed his neck

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He’s got his arms on the back of the sofa and behind your head and he starts to feel a weight against his chest

Then he looks down and sees you nestled up against him, your head on his chest and he’s biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making noise

You. are. precious.

100% takes a selfie with you (and Gaz in the background throwing a peace sign)

After the initial thrill settles down, his arm that was draped along the back of the sofa has now come to rest against your own

You’re so warm and the weight of you on his chest is so grounding and soothing, the steady rise and fall of your chest, it’s all so relaxing

Soon enough, he’s nodding off too and he winds up with his head almost draped over the back of the sofa, snores coming out of his mouth

(Gaz definitely filmed it)

Eventually his snoring wakes you up and you can’t help the embarrassment at falling asleep against your teammate like that, still you felt bed that you essentially trapped him there so you gently shook him awake

He massaged the back of his neck with a groan and a wince, your hands replaced his as you gently ushered him upright,

“Come on, Soap, I owe you.”

John Price:

He’s low key melting as soon as he feels your head on his shoulder, he takes a quick glance at you and chuckles

He lets you have a few minutes, knowing full well how tired you are, before he gently jostles his shoulder to softly rouse you before you dozed off deeper,

“Think it’s time to hit the sack, don’t you?” His voice is low as he leans in close,

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Don’t be. Get some rest, see you in the morning.”

He’s kind of touched and honored that you feel safe enough to fall asleep against him like that, honestly, he would’ve let you sleep there as long as you wanted

But he knows the comfort of one’s own bed is second to none, and he’d hate for you to wake up with a kink in your neck

And maybe his bones were getting a little stiff and uncomfortable from having to stay still for so long

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He’s smiling softly to himself and resting his head on yours

He does that thing where you shift in your seat a bit to get comfortable and he shuffles a little lower so he can rest his head against yours

And he falls asleep too!

And honestly it’s the best sleep either of you has ever had because no one has been successful in waking you up, short of shouting or dumping water on you

You wind up waking up first and it’s already morning, you stretch and gently shake him awake,

“Gaz, we slept through the night.”

“Fuck.” He groaned, you laughed quietly and took his arm to stand him up,

“I think we’ve got just enough time to sleep a little longer.”

“What’s the point? We’re already awake.” He reasoned with a yawn and a stretch, “Come on, I’ll make coffee and then we can hit the showers yeah?”

König:

Doesn’t move a single muscle. Like Ghost, he gets quite stiff at first as soon as he feels your head against his arm (even sitting you down you barely reach his shoulder)

So he shuffles a little in his seat until your head is at a more comfortable angle and is resting against his shoulder

But now this means that his spine is curving in uncomfortable shapes, and a good portion of his butt isn’t even on the couch anymore

He wouldn’t dare wake you but holy shit his back hurts

So he slowly and carefully maneuvers you into his arms so now he’s sitting normally and he’s got you on his lap with your head tucked against his chest

He’s got his arms around you to support you and then he realizes that it’s not that much more comfortable

Eventually he gives up and winds up carrying you to your room

You wake up the next morning with a cup of coffee on your nightstand and a sticky note with your name on it (and a little heart)

[pastryfication]

could you write something about oscar and his broken rib? maybe how you imagine how it happend, him going to the hospital to check it out, y/n taking care of him and being worried, him insisting to race,…

hope that helps with inspiration. you don‘t have to write everything from above just what you like

fortune in misfortune | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x gf!reader. note: i still can’t believe that he raced (AND WON???) with a broken rib so this was definitely fun to write. thank you for requesting it!! <3

you’re sitting on the couch, legs draped over oscar’s lap, when you notice him wince. it’s subtle, just a tiny flinch, but you catch it. you pull your eyes away from the movie and look at him, raising an eyebrow. "what’s wrong?"

oscar tries to shrug it off, offering a half-hearted smile. “nothing, just a little sore from training.”

you narrow your eyes, not convinced. “you sure? you don’t look fine.”

he chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “i’m okay, really. maybe i pulled something, but it’s nothing serious.”

you let it go for now, but the nagging feeling in your gut doesn’t disappear. he’s been home for a few days between races, and you’ve noticed he’s been moving a bit more carefully than usual. you figure he’s just being cautious—he’s got a big race in hungary coming up and doesn’t want to risk anything.

a couple of days later, you’re in the kitchen making breakfast when you hear a crash. rushing to the living room, you find oscar on the floor, holding his side and gritting his teeth.

“oscar!” you exclaim, dropping to your knees beside him. “what happened?”

he tries to laugh, but it comes out more like a groan. “tripped over my own feet… and then, well, the coffee table.”

your heart races as you help him up, his face pale with pain. “we’re going to the hospital.”

he starts to protest, but one look at your determined expression and he knows better than to argue. “okay, okay. but it’s probably just a bruise.”

you drive him to the hospital, anxiety bubbling in your chest. oscar tries to lighten the mood, cracking jokes and insisting that he’s fine, but you can see the discomfort etched on his face.

in the examination room, the doctor checks him over, sending him for an x-ray. you sit beside him, holding his hand, trying to mask your worry with a smile.

when the doctor returns, he frowns at the x-ray images. “well, there’s nothing obvious here, but given your symptoms, i’d like to do an ultrasound to be sure.”

oscar nods, though you can see a flicker of concern in his eyes. you squeeze his hand tighter.

a little while later, the ultrasound reveals what the x-ray didn’t—he’s got a small, hairline fracture in one of his ribs. the doctor explains it’s not too serious but could cause pain, especially with the physical demands of racing.

you feel a wave of relief mixed with fresh worry. “so what now? should he be resting? can he still race?” your questions tumble out faster than you can control them.

oscar gives you a reassuring smile, despite the obvious discomfort. “it’s just a small fracture. i’ll take it easy.”

the doctor advises some rest and pain management but doesn’t explicitly forbid racing. oscar seems almost relieved, but you’re still not convinced. “oscar, i don’t know… this sounds serious.”

“hey,” he says softly, turning to face you fully. “i’ll be careful. if it gets worse, i’ll pull out, okay? but right now, i’m feeling alright. it’s just a bit of pain.”

you know how stubborn he can be, and how much racing means to him. you want to make him stay home, keep him safe, but you also know he wouldn’t be happy with that.

over the next few days, you fuss over him—probably more than necessary, but you can’t help it. you make sure he’s comfortable, keep an eye on him whenever he moves, and remind him to take his pain meds. oscar endures it with a smile, teasing you gently about being so worried.

“you’re gonna wrap me in bubble wrap next,” he jokes one morning as you hand him a glass of water with his painkillers.

“don’t tempt me,” you reply, only half-joking. but you know you can’t keep him from going to hungary. it’s what he loves, and you can see the determination in his eyes.

the day before he’s supposed to leave, you sit together in bed, your head resting on his shoulder. “just promise me you’ll be careful.”

he kisses the top of your head, his voice soft. “i promise. and if it gets too much, i’ll stop. but i’ve got this, love. don’t worry too much.”

you nod, trying to believe it, but the worry still lingers in your chest. you just want him to be okay.

the next morning, you drive him to the airport, your hand gripping his a little tighter than usual. “text me as soon as you land, and call me if you need anything.”

oscar smiles, leaning in for a kiss. “i will. and i’ll be back before you know it.”

as you watch him walk into the terminal, you can’t shake the feeling of anxiety. but you trust him. he’ll be careful. he’s oscar, after all—strong, determined, and maybe just a little bit clumsy. and you’ll be here, waiting for him, ready to take care of him when he gets back.

[charliemwrites]

Part 6 of Charmed Slasher Simon!

Simon really ought to teach you not to look at him like that. Those big watery eyes and pouty lips make his teeth feel too sharp for his own mouth. He wants to sink them into you, find out if you taste as sweet as you look. He knows you would, knows it like he knows the slick heat of fresh viscera.

“What.” he demands, voice hard to keep the rasp of dark desire from it.

“I have a little favor to ask.”

He arches an eyebrow, does not believe you. Not when you’re looking at him so beseechingly. He’ll have to get you to make that face again, maybe when he’s got you on your knees, asking to suck his cock.

“Go on.”

You seem ridiculously, foolishly charmed by this stoic, unimpressed front he puts on for you. A little beam of sunshine refracting off of a black mirror. Wonders sometimes what cruel maker built you so unintentionally self-destructive.

“There’s this work trip coming up…”

He has to cross his arms to keep himself from snatching you up and locking you in the bedroom. Mistaking the gesture, you hurry to continue.

“And I have to go, but! We’re allowed to bring plus ones.”

Satisfaction curls warm in his gut, a purring predator cat. He wants to hear you ask, though.

“I’m not hearing the favor.”

“Riley….” you complain, face adorably embarrassed.

“I’m waiting, luv.”

You damn near stomp your little foot at him. “Will you please come as my plus one?”

He arches his eyebrows. “That’s a big ask.”

You could ask for the stars and moon and he’d make them bleed for you. Paint the sky crimson and make a necklace of the heavens to collar you in.

“I know and I understand if you don’t want to - but… but that coworker you met, Brandon? He’s going too, and he’s been looking at me weird all week. Please, Ri? I-I don’t want to go by myself and you make me feel safe.”

Oh it was a sure thing that he’d be going with you, but now there’s no question. He’s so glad for the video cameras; he going to milk himself dry tonight listening to you say please like that. Admitting that he makes you feel safe. His poor, stupid, fragile thing. It’s a good thing he found you.

“Alright, alright,” he soothes. “No waterworks now. I’ll go with you.”

Like a switch, you light up and throw yourself into his chest.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” you trill. “I’ll make it up to you somehow, I promise.”

He snorts. You’ve done him the favor by giving him an excuse to follow you - but he’s not about to correct you.

“You let me worry about that. Just send me the details and I’ll be there.”

—

Your job has rented out a ski lodge for this little trip. Not only is it secluded, the booking is for the middle of the week. There will be few, if any, people over than instructors and your coworkers.

He couldn’t plan it better.

The day is spent pretending to care about your coworkers’ names and babysitting you along the slopes. You nearly crack your head open twice, each time he scoops you up, frowning down at your giggly face.

You also nail him in the head with a snowball too. That. That’s he’s going to get revenge for.

When night falls, you squeeze his hand at the door to your room. He leans his palm against the door over your head, relishes in the way you fluster as you tilt your head to look at him.

“Thank you for coming, Riley,” you murmurs. “You’ve made this really fun.”

He lets himself smile at you, just a bit. Knows it’s lopsided and probably a little too sharp, should raise alarm bells in your pretty little head, but you only smile back at him.

“Mm, you’ll have to make it up to me. Doin’ you this big favor ‘n all.”

You laugh. “Yeah? Let me know when you want your pound of flesh.”

Oh he’ll be taking more than a pound.

“Better be ready when I come to collect.”

“Ooh, so scary!” you tease, sticking your tongue out.

“You’ve no idea.”

—

A storm hits that night. A wicked, frigid thing that brews up and boils over in a matter of hours. Whiteout conditions. The power goes out a quarter past 11.

Well, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s time for Simon to have his.

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Masterlist

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 6

WC:1288 Masterpost CW: Self-esteem issues, past abuse, past experimentation, past starvation

“Hey Kid,” Jason said after he knocked on the door. It may have been left open a crack for safety reasons, but Jason still wanted to give the kid as much privacy as they could with all this.

The kid looked up at him from the bed with wide, startled eyes.

Right.

“I’m the one with the helmet.”

“I, yeah, same outfit,” the kid mumbled but didn’t look any less wide eyed.

Jason held back a sigh “Can I come in?”

“Sure, yeah,” the kid said as he forced himself to sit up against the wall with shaky arms.

Jason took the seat that Tim had used and kept a careful distance between them, even as he leaned forward and clasped his hands. “I want you to be honest with me, Kid, because you feeling safe here is the most important thing. I’ve made some soup and I’d like you to eat it and some bread, but if you don’t feel comfortable eating something I made we can do am MRE instead. That way you can know it’s still sealed.”

“No. I mean, no to the MRE. Soup sounds…” the kid had to stop and swallow. “That sounds really good.”

“Okay, Kid,” Jason said with as gentle of a voice as he could manage right then. “It’s only going to be a small portion to start, just to give your body time to adjust, but you keep it down and are still hungry there will be more. Whenever you’re hungry there will be food, I promise, and you don’t have to do anything to earn or deserve it. You can just ask whoever is around. Hell, when you’re well enough to walk around you can get anything you want from the fridge or pantry, okay?”

The kid nodded slowly, but that wide eyed look was back. Jason was going to have to warn the others about making sure that the kid ate and knew that he had free access to the food. They should get some granola bars, chips, and bottled drinks for the kid’s room too, but only once they knew the kid wouldn’t gorge himself.

“And just to check, any allergies or restrictions? I made the soup vegan, just to be safe, but it’s got some corn starch as a thickener.”

The kid shook their head.

“Good. After you eat, if you feel up to it, it would be good for you to take a bath or shower. But if you can’t,” Jason gave a little shrug, “that’s fine too. It can be another time.”

The kid shook his head. “I want to. I mean, if I can, I want to. A shower sounds… really good.”

“Yeah, I bet it does. I’ll go get you that soup and a sports drink. I know it’s going to suck, but we’re going to want to track you staying hydrated so you’ll be drinking lots,” Jason warned to another answering nod. He closed the door most of the way behind him again as he left the bedroom.

“He was awake then?” Dick asked softly when Jason moved to fill up a bowl.

“Yeah. Hey, can you start a log? I want to track what the kid eats and drinks and when,” Jason said.

“What’s the starvation concern?” Dick asked with a little frown as he tapped on the tablet.

“Right now I’m worried about the kid not believe he can eat whenever he’s hungry, so we’ll have to keep asking. But we need to watch for gorging. Lots of small meals often right now.”

Dick nodded. “Okay. I’ll make the log and set a silent alarm for whoever’s with him every hour. Did you talk about moving safe houses?”

Jason shook his head as he place two bowls and a plate of buttered bread on a lap tray. “We’ll let him get fed and through the shower first, maybe even another nap.”

“We don’t want him to get too settled here,” Dick pointed out.

“But we also don’t want to spook him,” Jason countered.

Dick just sighed. “Fucking timing.”

Jason opened his mouth—

“And if you make a dick joke right now I will throw something at you, little wing, I am not kidding.”

Jason help his hands up in surrender for a moment before he picked up the tray and headed back to the bedroom. He knocked with his foot before he pushed the door open.

The kid had fixed the bed while Jason was out of the room. He even straightened up the mess of tools that Tim had left.

It made Jason’s stomach turn over.

“You didn’t have to clean up,” Jason said, hoping to let the kid know he didn’t have do work to stay. “Red leaves a mess wherever he goes.”

The words had the opposite effect and the kid ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Jason soothed. He’d have to mention this to the others too. “It’s nice not to accidentally step on a screw or something, just that you didn’t have to. Can I set the tray on your lap?”

The kid nodded and scrambled to straighten back up. Jason was careful not to touch him as he set the tray down and made sure it was balanced.

“So I divided the veggies up differently. Which bowl do you want?”

The kid’s eyes darted between the two bowls and then up to Jason, as if trying to find the right answer.

“I don’t mind either,” Jason added, casually as he could, and sat on the bed next to the kid. “I can get more if I want it. Hell, I probably will. Spoiler always says I’m a bottomless pit with how I eat.”

Slowly, the kid reached out to scoot the bowl more more potato chunks closer to him. He glanced up at Jason from under the messy white bangs. Jason just smiled and took the other bowl for himself. He blew on a spoonful of soup before starting to eat. A beat latter, the kid did the same.

Jason ate steadily, setting a rhythm for the kid to follow, and the kid was mimicking him. It was almost like the other didn’t even know how to eat any more. For a moment, Jason had to close his eyes and breathe. The Pit Rage wasn’t what it used to be, but there was a still an anger that could burn inside him and when it did, it burned so fiercely hot. Right then, it wanted to burn whoever did this to the kid to ashes. Jason didn’t much want to stop it, but he wouldn’t risk scaring the kid for vengeance.

Not when this was his new little brother.

(He wasn’t going to mess up this time, not again.)

The sound of the spoon scraping softly against the bowl next to him trailed off. Jason kept eating, focused on his own bowl, so not to call note to it. He’d like the kid to eat a little more, but he wouldn’t push it. He’d push so little with this kid, not outside of keeping him safe.

When the barely there weight settled against Jason’s side, he froze.

Slowly he turned his head as little as possible.

The kid was tipped over, head pillowed against Jason’s arm, sound asleep.

Jason reached up with his other hand and tapped his comm twice. Dick was at the door in a flash, silent despite having obviously run. The alert bled out of Dick as he took in the sight and his face split into a grin. Silently laughing, Dick raised the tablet still in his hands and started taking photos.

Jason flicked him off for the next shot.

Damn brothers.

---

AN: Another mostly soft Trauma Tuesday! But my is poor Danny messed up... at least he has his big brothers looking after him! (Even he doesn't know that part yet.)

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe here!

[thatlittlered]

would've, could've, should've | aaron hotchner

warning(s): one whole curse word, smoking, stunning amount of fluff and a little bit of action

GIF by @littlecarmine

part one

part two

author's note: Sorry for the delay, hope it was worth it! I also want to thank the sweet anon for the ask with the Robert Siken poem, which I included here. Next part will be straight-up filthy smut, so stay tuned, fellow sluts.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

You don’t see much of each other for the next couple of days. Aaron is on autopilot, avoiding any chance to be alone with you. The rest of the team unknowingly act as a buffer and all he has to do is not look at you during work hours, keep the door to his office shut to not hear your laughter.

It’s a relief when you and Morgan are called to testify in court for a case. You’re somewhere far away for the day, where he knows you’re safe and he can go back to pretending nothing has changed.

The problems start when he’s not being kept busy.

 How much paperwork can one person do?

The stars align oddly in his favor and he’s into calls or meetings until long after everyone else has gone home. When ten pm rolls around, he finally calls it quits but sees no point in leaving in a hurry. It’s past Jack’s bed time, it’d be cruel to wake him up now and carry him back home when tomorrow’s Sunday. If all goes well, he can pick him in the morning and they’ll get to spend the day together.

His finger is hovering over Jessica’s number when he spots your name in his call logs. It’s silly and childish, but he hasn’t thought of you in a couple of hours and God.

Deep down, he knows he’s been incredibly unfair to you. He had to. Had to tell himself it was something outside of him causing him torment. An obstacle to overcome, a distraction to ignore. He had to act as if you were forcing your way into his life in order to be able to put up walls, but what have you really done except exist near him? He is the one to blame for allowing it to grow beneath his skin; succumbing to his need for some sort of intimacy when he could have -should have- nipped this at the bud a very long time ago. He recognized it within himself the other day, when he realized he could have -should have- kissed you.

But nothing is healed with a kiss. Only new grievances arise.

It’s where you go from there that matters and he finds himself unable to guide or be guided.

Where do you go from here?

When he decides to feed his insomnia with a cup of late-night coffee, he is yet again reminded of you. So, he calls, but you don’t answer and he pours another, completely indifferent to the idea of sleep.

It’s getting too late to be here, even by his standards. He tries calling again, but, no answer. He gathers his stuff to leave and there is a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach when he settles inside the car. It’s only eleven and you always say you never sleep this early.

Another call, this time to Emily, who miraculously, picks up.

“Hello? Hotch?”

There is a deafening buzz in the background; loud voices and music blasting.

Aaron apologizes for the late hour and tries to be discreet when he asks about you. Says he needs to go over something about a case file but you won’t answer his calls and he got worried.

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’s right here with me, but it’s a little hard to get her right now. Is it urgent?”

“Uh, no, don’t bother her. Is everyone else there too?”

“Not everyone, just the two of us, Garcia and Morgan. Do you need them as well?”

You didn’t invite him, why would you? He would have never said yes.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Sorry, sir, I can’t make out much with all this noise. We’re at the ‘Matter’ if you need us. I’ll tell the guys to call you as soon as they can, okay? Have a good night.”

So, he drives two miles a little before midnight to come sit outside ‘Matter’, which is apparently a very busy nightclub downtown, half a mile away from the nearest parking spot he could find.

He doesn’t really know why he came.

He can’t come in and join you. Can’t ask for you.

They probably wouldn’t even let him in while dressed like this.

It’s very unclear what the next step is.

He knows it’s pointless to call you again when you’re probably too busy dancing and drinking with a great many people who are not him. Morgan has some trouble keeping his hands to himself when he drinks.

He sits on the curb of the street, cracks open the pack of cigarettes he snack out of the car’s glove compartment, always hidden below the insurance papers. Astoundingly loud music plays every time the doors to the club open and people come out stumbling, kissing sloppily and dragging each other away.

He just wants to see you and put this horrible feeling inside him to rest.

“No fucking way.”

He jolts at the sound of your voice and throws away the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe before he turns to see you standing outside the club. You approach timidly until you can be sure it’s him and when you step closer to the streetlight, he can really see you. The clothes you could never wear to work, the shoes you apparently spend all your money on. You’re beautiful.

He can’t possibly move until you’re sat beside him. For the first time in what seems like forever, now that he’s grown so used to it, you keep a very respectable distance between your bodies.

“You didn’t have to throw it away; I already saw you and,” you pick up the abandoned carton from the sidewalk and almost laugh at how immaculate it looks just having been opened, “I have so many questions. Since when do you smoke?”

His voice is quiet, unamused.

“Almost never.”

You look at him curiously and he thinks you would make a great interrogator simply by the way you make everyone around you spill their souls out if it will satisfy you.

“Sometimes when I’m very stressed.”

You hum, “I never would have guessed that.”

He laughs to himself and looks at his hands.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of things that are not typical of me lately.”

You help yourself to a cigarette and he cups his hand over yours when the breeze makes it too hard to light up.

“Is that because of me? Am I a bad influence?”

“No. It’s me, I’m the common denominator.”

You hum again and smile at him teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Breakthrough.”

“So, this is what therapy is like?”

He wants to thank you, for always trying to make things as easy as possible for him. You open the door and difficult as it may seem, all he really has to do is walk through it.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t smoke in session.”

“Oh good.”

You’re sitting closer again and Aaron doesn’t know how. He doesn’t think either of you moved. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of him, glances at you only from the corner of his eye. Your perfume mingles with the smoke of the cigarette and it’s all a haze to him.

“Why are you not inside?”

“I needed a breath; it was very loud and packed in there… and I finally saw your calls.”

He hums, unable to find anything else to say.

“Why are you here?

“I don’t know.”

He knows that is not a good enough of an answer.

“I always have this terrible feeling that something is going to happen to you.”

Your shoulder touches his and he can admire the smoothness of it, focus on each mark there to avoid the dreaded eye contact.

“Do you think that fear is reasonable, or is it rooted in something else?’

His eyes shut tightly, “Don’t do that, please. Don’t talk to me like I’m a subject.”

“You use your ‘agent tone’ all the time outside of work.”

His voice deepens, “I am aware.”

Heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry I did all that and then backed out at the last minute.”

“It’s alright. I think I knew you would.”

“See, that’s even worse.”

You look at his suit, the wrinkles that have formed in the shirt underneath from the hours of wear.

“Did you come here straight from the office?”

A sigh, “Yeah.”

You nod your head in understanding and move to put out what’s left of the cigarette.

“I’m alright. I’ve got the others too; they’ll take me home. You can relax now.”

“I don’t think I ever can.”

You don’t know what to say really. If what he needs is time, you can give it, but he seems undecided as well when he picks up your hand.

“I think I’m scared of what will happen once the line is crossed.”

A confession.

That, you did not expect.

“Aside from the complications at work, I just,” his hand rubs gently on the spot your watch has left its mark, “I have proved time and time again that I can’t handle any relationship beyond professionalism and once we stop being just colleagues, I will lose you completely from my life.”

“Do you think that line has not been crossed already?”

He laughs quietly.

You can both feel the bouncer looking at you and Aaron is suddenly aware of how vulnerable he is right now.

“I guess it has.”

You’re both quiet for a little while.

“I have to go back inside now, or they’ll start getting worried.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but no words leave his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them you were here.”

That hurt. You know it, but what else was there to say?

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll know.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before you leave and he’s left staring while you go back inside.

-.-.-

A little past two, the girls drop you off in a shared cub before going their separate ways and you rush to your apartment building, only to find Aaron waiting there.

“Well, you certainly have a thing for sitting on curbs.”

He looks tired, so tired, and alone in the empty street. It’s very hard to maintain your position when he always looks this beaten down in his most tender moments. You wish to care for him, love him back into happiness but that wouldn’t be fair.

Still, you can’t help but go to him and he is relieved that you sit closer this time.

“Have you been waiting here this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

You softly take his right hand to look at his watch. His body relaxes at the touch.

“Huh.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, but I’m a little more drunk than the last time you saw me.”

Your skin glows under the soft moonlight and he notices.

It is technically tomorrow now.

“How drunk?”

His face moves closer and you can’t help but shiver at the sudden change. His breath is warm on your face. The words come out in a whisper.

“Not that much.”

That’s all it takes.

His lips press against yours once… then twice and then… he doesn’t stop.

You always thought he’d be one to kiss carefully and with absolute purpose, just like he does everything else, but he kisses like a man on fire. He seeks to quench something deep inside of him and you provide happily. The remnants of your lip gloss tingle on his mouth, as if kissing you alone is not enough of an awakening.

It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep up with breathing when he envelops you so, and cages you in the pleasant whirl of his scent. When you break away for breath, he’s quick to capture you once more. His hands come to your face to keep you there until he’s had enough, but how he can he ever have enough of you?

He only lets you go because he has to. You’re both practically panting and he can’t decide what to do. He wants to kiss you, look at you, touch you, but it cannot all be done at once. When your own hand comes to his face just below his jawline, he melts under the touch. His eyes are sunken, his body is begging for rest, but it would not come without you.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

His voice is low and breathy when he nods.

“Yeah…”

-.-.-

You walk upstairs, hand in hand, and Aaron can see your own exhaustion is taking over. Something started with that first touch. Your bodies wish only to find comfort near each other.

His breath is warm on your neck while you open the door, his hands softly placed on your waist with the excuse of keeping you steady. When you move to take off your shoes, he is behind you again, as if tied to you with invisible thread, and holds you gently by the elbow when he sees you struggling.

You’re suddenly very aware he is in your house again. Touching you.

“Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head no, but you’re too focused on the way his hand moves languidly up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

He is so caring. So soft below the austere guise.

“I just need to take a shower,” you almost stumble backward and he thinks it’s the alcohol, but it might just be the feeling of his hands on your face, “I must have fifty different people’s sweat on me right now.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”

His voice is soft – tired.

You turn on the lights for him in the living room and he gives a half-smile when you check on him again.

“I won’t be long.”

Once left alone, he gets to look around your house. He sees your carefully assorted nick-knacks and smiles at the framed pictures all over your bookshelves. He can’t help but notice you’ve chosen one, if not the only, photo of the team that he’s also part of.

He is important to you too.

He can see you in every corner of the room, in the books you buy and the realistic-looking-but-admittedly-fake plants sprinkled here and there for a lack of time to take care of any real ones. He can even see you in the soft material of the couch when he sits and lets his cheek touch the fabric. He has been here before in a dream, with your head in his lap.

The room is awfully quiet save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of running water in the background. For a man that’s usually so good at sitting alone with his thoughts, he suddenly can’t stand it.

He knocks gently on the bathroom door and opens it slowly, only to be hit with the dizzying cloud of warm steam. Your head peeks behind the shower curtain and he can tell you got tired of standing and sat in the tub instead.

“Is it okay if I sit in here with you?”

You thought he’d sit on the toilet seat, but he crawls to the edge of the tub and sits on the bathmat with his back to you.

How close is close enough?

Now that he’s ventured, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satisfied.

So, he closes his eyes and rests his head back on the, now warm, porcelain.

“Aaron.”

He doesn’t know if he actually fell asleep, but the water is now turned off and you’re looking at him. He realizes now, for the first time, that you’re naked behind him. Your hair and eyelashes are angelically wet, the sheen of water on your flushed skin is divine. He knows that you’d be warm if he touched you now.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

You smile at him -siren- and your hand grabs a handful of his shirt, staining it with water that reaches his body underneath and makes him shiver. You kiss him with plump wet lips and he reaches for you. His hand entangles in your hair until you’re both practically pulling at each other.

A less enamored man would have broken away just to sneak a peek at your bare skin, but he won’t. He is respectful even now, even like this.

“I should have kissed you the other day. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

It’s a whisper when his mouth leaves yours, but you catch it.

You hum, eyes glossy, “Would've, could've, should’ve.”

What matters is now.

He kisses you again – just one more time. You both feel like giddy, lovesick children.

“Can you hand me my bathrobe?”

The bathrobe is also impossibly soft to the touch and when you emerge clad in it, he thinks he’d like to hold you. The spell of the warm steam is broken outside, however, and being so close to your naked body suddenly becomes very serious.

You let him sit in your bed, still fully clothed, save for his suit jacket, and he closes his eyes again. The comforter underneath is lovely.

Is everything in this house soft?

Is this what it feels like to be loved by you?

You disappear inside the walk-in closet and reappear, now properly dressed in your pajamas. The bed dips when you sit next to him and he turns to you completely.

“I have a T-shirt you can sleep in, don’t know about pants though.”

Please. Just be here, with him.

He watches you leave, but it’s not long before you return with the aforementioned shirt. You laugh when he finally realizes he’ll have to sleep in his boxers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you.”

He throws a teasing look, but can’t possibly come up with a clever answer right now.

“I’ll go dry my hair and you can get dressed, alright?”

You are so gentle with your guidance that it makes him feel like a helpless child, but there’s a hidden relief at that. It’s nice; being cared for like this and there is something to be said about parallels, with you going now to do as you had done a week and a half ago in a Florida hotel and him waiting for you – on your bed.

It’s the same, but it’s different.

He hangs his work clothes carefully on the chair in the corner of your room and goes to sit on the bed, but feels too uncomfortable to climb under the covers. He knows you’d find his duality funny; how he goes from hungrily kissing you to being too embarrassed to join you in bed, even if it’s only for sleep.

You notice his stiffness when you come back in the room, but don’t say anything. It’s not exactly easy for you either, you’re just better at hiding it than he is. You choose to lead by example instead and turn off the lights before reaching for the one on your nightstand and climbing inside your bedding.

He only speaks to deflect attention from him again, “You have a TV in your room.”

“Jealous?”

He turns to look at you and you’re perched up on the plump pillows, smiling at him. Your hand reaches for his own over the comforter and you gently pull him to you.

He comes, of course.

“I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Of course you don’t.”

He joins you with his back on the pillows and his shoulder touching yours, but he’s still too stiff.

“What do you watch?”

“Mostly reruns of sitcoms-,” he laughs at that, “-Seinfeld.”

“Isn’t that show a thousand years old?

“You would know.”

He laughs again and you can almost make out a wounded pout on his face, but a kiss is enough of a cure. His shoulders relax and he gives in to the warmth and softness; be it the bed or you next to him. You can tell he’s barely managing to stay awake, but he still can’t let go completely. His head slumps backward again.

“Can we turn it on?”

You find the courage to caress his hair, admiring the softness of it and the discreet sprinkle of grey that you can only see up close.

“If you want.”

The quiet humming of the television and your breath in his ear, putting his mind to ease, are enough for him to finally sleep and you’re not long behind. His head is turned to the side where you are, hand tightly holding yours.

Later in the night, when you stir in your sleep, he pulls you further into him – wraps his arm around you completely and doesn’t let go.

next part

[pretentious-blonde]

patched up

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: you help remus clean up after the full moon, reminding him once again how much he is loved, even if he thinks he is underserving

warnings: cuts, wounds, physical pain

a/n: all i write is hurt/comfort, and I'm not even mad

Remus sat on the old leather couch, a book in his hand that just couldn’t seem to grasp his attention. His free fingers traced small circles on your legs, which you had ungracefully thrown over his own as you lounged together in the living room. It was still early, just coming up for noon, you both were aware of the time. Even if the knowledge was unspoken. 

It was the full moon tonight, and despite the routine that you both had become familiar with, the boy couldn’t shake the nerves that coiled and twisted inside of him. 

You pretended not to notice what he was doing, glancing at the door every couple of minutes, waiting for the inevitable knock. James and Sirius would arrive any moment now, take him away, far away for yet another transformation. You were used to it by now. 

One thing that was always constant was that they had always been there for him, he appreciated that, but he hated leaving you. Especially when you gave him that soft, reassuring smile. Like everything would be fine. Like everything was fine.

“Rem,” you spoke softly, catching those big, brown eyes. His body was tense beneath you. 

“I’m alright, dove,” he gave you a weak smile, his fingers stopping their patterns to give your calf a light squeeze. “Just… you know.”

And you did know. Painfully so.

You nodded, understanding him completely. You were about to speak more, but were interrupted by the shrill ring of the doorbell. He stiffened even more at the sound. Hand stilling.

He sighed and closed the book, setting it aside. His gaze moved to the hand on your leg, not wanting to move it, wanting to keep the inevitable away for just a second longer. 

“It’s time,” he tells you quietly, like he does every month. His voice carried a sadness that he couldn’t hide completely. 

You place your hand on top of his own, your smile gentle but knowing. “I’ll be right here. Waiting for you to get back, okay?”

He stood up, pulling you with him, tall body towering over your own. He let his hand linger on the small of your back as you both headed to the front door. When he opened it, James and Sirius stood waiting outside, both smiling softly as they knew what was to come. The car behind them was still running, headlights cutting through the fog, casting a warm glow behind them. 

“Hey, mate,” James begins, smiling up at Remus. “You ready?”

Sirius leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, his usual smirk missing from his face. “We’re ready when you are,” he said. His voice light in an attempt to ease your boyfriend’s nerves. “If you need a breather before we go, just say the word.”

Remus shook his head, he would rather just get this over and done with, no more stalling. You could feel the stress in his body increase as the hand on your waist held on a little tighter. 

Sirius, sensing the clear tension that settled heavily in the air, finally cracked a smile. “Don’t worry,” he waved his hand in front of him. “You’ll be back here with your girl before you know it.” He said, winking in your direction.

James also turns his attention to you, giving you a mock salute, “He is in safe hands, don’t you fret.”

“And we won’t allow him to get too grumpy when we return him,” Sirius added, side-eyeing the man standing next to you. Remus runs a hand over his face at their teasing.

You rolled your eyes and gave them a half-glare, happy that they were trying to keep things light. 

“I trust you both,” you say, tone teasing but nonetheless truthful. “Bring him back in one piece.”

James nods. “You have our word.”

Remus lets out a small, grateful smile before turning his attention back to you. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, allowing his hand to linger on your cheek for a moment. “I’ll be back tomorrow evening, darling. I promise,” he tells you, his gaze was intense. The act of leaving you now was painful. 

You leaned forward and hugged him tightly, his own long arms wrapping around you immediately. Secure and firm, he never wanted to let go. 

“I know you will,” you whispered into his chest, voice muffled by his worn jumper. “I’ll be here.”

Remus reluctantly loosened his embrace, kissing your forehead gently as he allowed himself to linger. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmured as he held your chin. Warm, tired eyes burrowing into your own. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say quickly. He already knew that but—god—did it feel good to hear you say it back. He turned towards the car behind him, giving you a small wave before climbing in. 

Remus settled into the back seat as the other two slid into the front. He watched you as the car sped away, trying to push down the knots his stomach was tying. Sirius leaned back, tossing him a lighthearted grin from the passenger seat.

“Come on, Moony,” Sirius said, trying to help him relax. “It’s just another moon. We have done this hundreds of times now.”

"Another moon, another miserable night,” Remus grumbled, no longer having the will to fake a smile. You weren’t there anymore. 

James glanced back from the driver’s seat, a sympathetic look now in his eyes. “You’ll be alright, mate. Besides, from the way you’re moping, I’d say you’re just lovesick.”

“Definitely lovesick,” Sirius said, nodding his head in agreement.

Remus sighed, staring out the trees flying past the window. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I am. I’m damn lucky to be.”

James and Sirius exchanged a quick, knowing look, but didn’t tease him further. Remus just wanted to get through this—so he could go back to the one person who made everything else worth it.

Remus tried his hardest to be silent when he entered, opening the door gently to lessen the loud creak, his movements were slow and heavy as he stepped inside. It was late—much later than he intended to be—every inch of his tired body screamed in protest at the slightest movement. He winced as a sharp pain shot through his ribcage, having to reach out and steady himself against the wall, closing the door behind him. 

It had been bad this time. Really bad. James and Sirius had confirmed it, as if the fresh wounds couldn’t tell him that already. Their concerned faces still clear in his memory. 

The cuts on his body were deep—deeper than usual—one stretching across his chest, another on his arm, and a particularly nasty one that covered the side of his face. He had no recollection of how he acquired them, but they offered a fresh reminder of what he was. What he could become. 

He trudged up the stairs, each step more painful than the last, eventually making his way to the bathroom. He avoided the mirror, the last thing he wanted to see was his reflection—the scars, the bandages, the tired eyes that always seemed more hollow after the events of a full moon. He quickly redressed the lacerations on his torso, delaying touching the one on his cheek. 

He didn’t want to see what it looked like, but he had no choice. He needed to change it. He would just have to do it fast. 

Glancing up quickly, he caught a brief glimpse of himself. He felt the air knocked out of his lungs. Immediately he looked away, biting down another wave of familiar self-loathing that flowed through him. 

He hated this—hated how he looked, how his body was always going to be a physical reminder of how cursed he was. How much of a monster he was. 

With shaky hands, he removed a bandage from its plastic casing, placing it on his face as swiftly as he could. He pulled out a loose set of pyjamas and quickly slipped them on his aching body, just wanting to crawl into bed and pretend the previous night never happened.

He opened the door to your shared bedroom and paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of your sleeping figure. You were lying peacefully on your side of the bed, the soft rise and fall of your chest, the sound of your breathing drew him closer to you. 

He paused before he got in, just standing there for a moment, taking you in, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips for the first time in over twenty-four hours. He loved you. God, he loved you. The one thing in his life he would never get near his tribulation. The one thing that kept him going. 

Carefully, he slipped in next to you, taking extra care not to rouse you. The ache in his arms flared up as he pulled back the heavy duvet, but he forced himself to ignore it. After all, what was a little discomfort when he could be close to you?

He shuffled closer, wincing at the pain that shot through his muscles, but it appeared to melt into the background as he felt your warmth permeate his skin. 

For a moment, he was content just laying there next to you, watching you sleep. If you were awake you would probably call him a creep. He stifled a chuckle at the image that formed in his mind. 

His heart ached—not from the wounds or exhaustion he had sustained, but from the overwhelming combination of emotions he felt for you. He hoped you were sleeping well, lord knows he wouldn’t be. Not with the soreness that was coursing through his drained body, but his own well-being didn’t concern him right now. What mattered was that he was here, with you. 

With a soft sigh, he gently pulled your sleeping form closer to him, his arms trembling slightly with the strain. The throbbing in his chest flared up again, but he ignored it. Instead, he buried his face in your hair and let the steady sound of your breathing soothe him. He kissed the top of your head, whispering into the silent room. 

“I’m home, love,” he murmured, voice almost inaudible as sleep began to pull him under. “Promised I would be.”

The first thing you felt when you stirred was a familiar warmth, strong arms wrapped around you, and for a brief moment, your heart swelled with relief. He was back. He always came back to you. But every time he managed to crawl back home you couldn’t help but worry if it would be worse than the last time. You shifted slightly, turning in his embrace in order to get a better look at him—that’s when you noticed. 

The fresh bandages, hastily applied, peeked out from his long sleeve, another covering the side of his face. You ached for him at the sight of them. You pulled your arms from beneath the duvet, reaching out to touch the dressing. Your fingers hovered just above it, pausing mid-air as you stopped yourself. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him more. You didn’t know what lay beneath them. 

You wriggled out of his hold, taking additional time and care so as to not wake the man sleeping soundly next to you. He needed the rest. You were certain he would be in pain as soon as he rose, and as much as the idea of staying in his arms sounded heavenly, you decided to make yourself useful. 

Padding quietly to the kitchen, odd socks on your feet, you grab two cups from the cupboard above your head. You had to go on your tiptoes to reach them. Usually, Remus would insist on getting them for you—he had once seen you clamber up onto the counter and it nearly gave him a heart attack—but he was preoccupied today. 

The kettle bubbled softly as you pulled out the jar of tea, along with the packet of biscuits—chocolate, of course, his preferred choice. You prepared it in the way he taught you, letting it brew for a good couple of minutes before removing the teabag, pouring in a healthy glug of milk. You returned to the bedroom, steaming mugs in hand and the packet of biscuits under your arm. 

The brunette began to stir at the soft crackle of plastic as you placed the treats on the bedside table, holding your own mug close to your chest as you sat on the floor beside the bed. You watched his eyes as they fluttered open. 

“Hey,” you whispered, tilting your head to the side to look at him horizontally. “How are you feeling?”

He winced as he shifted over, his body still unbearably sore. His tired eyes met yours, and despite everything, he managed to give you a faint smile. It was hard not to when you looked at him like that. 

“I’ve been better,” he replied, his voice husky with sleep. 

You shook your head at his attempts to downplay his clear discomfort, trying to mask the worry in your eyes that was surely present. 

“I made you tea,” you gesture to the cup next to you, pale wisps dancing around the top of it. He liked it hot, straight from the kettle. It amazed you how he could handle drinking it so fast. “And your favourite.”

“I’m a lucky man,” he said as he sat up, voice slightly strained as he finished his sentence. He reached out and dipped the biscuit in his mug, making a sound of relief as he popped it into his mouth, allowing the rich flavour to melt over his tongue. 

He took a sip of his tea, sleeve rolling up slightly as he leant over, bandage visible. You didn’t want to mention how poorly they had been applied, you didn’t want to remind him. But it had to be done, for his sake. 

“Rem,” you began gently, not wanting to upset him. “You need to change those.”

Immediately, he stiffened, his body pausing mid-sip. He loathed this part—being looked after and the vulnerability that came with it. 

“Do I?” He muttered, voice lacking the spark it had when he woke up, clearly embarrassed at your statement. 

You nodded solemnly, cringing at the discomfort in his eyes. “It might get infected,” you tell him. “You’re tired. Let me help you, please?”

He hesitated for a moment, an internal battle occurring in his head, before giving you one of his kind smiles. “Alright,” he responded, trying to keep the sadness from his voice. “Can I finish my tea first?”

You giggled, worry easing just a little. “Of course,” you say, nodding your head. “We’ll do it after.”

He placed his soon-empty cup on the side next to him, sighing heavily as he nodded to you. “Alright, love,” he said reluctantly. “I’m ready.”

You stand up slowly, reaching out to take his hesitant hand, leading him towards the bathroom. He traced your knuckles with his thumb as you both continued down the hallway. When you opened the door, he immediately hopped up on the counter silently. Ignoring the mirror and instead choosing to look down at his lap.

The first aid kit was under the sink, a pack that you always kept fully stocked. You quickly grabbed it before returning to your place in front of him, standing in between his spread legs. Your heart felt heavy at how exhausted he looked. How broken. But you refused to let him see that. He didn’t need to worry about you being worried about him. He had enough to deal with as it is. 

“Can I take your jumper off?” You ask him softly, afraid of raising your voice. You needed to take care of him, and from the looks of it, he wanted to be as far away from this situation as possible. 

His eyes left his lap and locked with yours. For a second, he looked as though he might say something, but instead, he just nodded. Words seemingly too hard to form right now. 

You tried to keep your hands steady as you reached out, gently pulling the fabric over his head, keeping the material as far away from his body as you removed it. You folded up the material and placed it to the side, allowing him to get more comfortable with his bare skin showing before you gave him your attention again. But nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. 

Bandages—there were so many of them, scattered haphazardly across his torso and arms. Each one was a significant reminder of what he had been through the previous night. You swallowed hard, putting on a brave face as you knew he was watching your every movement. 

“You ready?” You asked, needing verbal confirmation as you knew this was going to hurt. Not just him, but yourself as well. 

His lips twitched up into a half-smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he quipped, trying to take the edge off, but the pain was clear in his low voice. 

You peeled off the dressings, not earning a large reaction from the boy sitting in front of you. Most of them had become unstuck as he slept, making your job easier. You reached for the cloth and antiseptic, deciding to start with the easier gashes first. Your touch was diligent and gentle as you cleaned him, dabbing carefully at the blood and dirt that clung to his skin. 

He must have been shattered last night to skip this. That fact made you even more determined to fix this. To fix him. You couldn’t offer much, but you would do whatever you thought would help. Every few minutes, you’d glance up, wordlessly checking on him. Waiting for the swift bob of his head as he urges you to keep going. 

“Am I hurting you?” You knew the answer already, but you needed to know how much. 

“Only a little,” he lied, a faint smirk appearing on his face. “I’ve been though worse, dove.”

You roll your eyes at his ill attempt of humour, but at least he was able to crack a joke. That was a good sign. 

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” you murmered as you pressed down on a particularly nasty cut, earning a small hiss from him. You hurried up when you heard the noise, not wanting to be the one behind his torture. 

Finally, you turned your attention to the injury on his face, the angry red line that ran from his collarbone all the way up to his cheek. The sight of it yanked at your heartstrings and you knew you failed to mask your reaction, his body stiffened. Eyes darting away from yours as he attempted to look away. You caught his chin before he could withdraw into himself, forcing him to look at you. 

Big, doe eyes filled with guilt, shame even, and it devastated you. He cleared his throat with a sharp cough, his voice gravely. “You shouldn’t have to do this,” he muttered, gaze dropping again despite the grip on his chin. “You shouldn’t—have to take care of me like this.”

You removed your hold on him, allowing both of your hands to continue working, dabbing gently as his mouth curled at the stinging sensation. “Remus,” you whispered, your voice filled with compassion. “I want to take care of you. I love taking care of you.”

He shook his head slightly, the conversation paining him more than your actions. “You’re too good to me,” he tells you, his voice monotone as if he was just speaking a fact. “Look at me, darling. I’m—I’m a mess.”

You smiled at the angelic boy in front of you and placed a kiss on his cheekbone, just above the cut. He really couldn’t see what you saw. What his friends saw in him. How he treated you all. He was the most selfless person you had ever met, going above and beyond for each and every person he cared for. 

It wasn’t a skill that could be taught. It was innate. It was Remus. Always had been. 

“You’re not a mess,” you say firmly. “You are mine. I love you—every scar, every mark, every part of you.”

You saw his throat bob as he swallowed, his eyes slightly glassy as he stared at you. He always struggled to allow people to give him affection, not believing he deserved it. He didn’t know where to put all the love you gave him. He always felt unworthy of it. 

But in that moment, just the two of you in the cramped bathroom, illuminated by the small ceiling bulb. It felt right. Your fingers brushing over his scars, some fresher, some older, he thought maybe…just maybe. It would all be alright. 

You finish the last dressing, smoothing it over his skin with the same tenderness you treated all the others. “All done,” you tell him, feeling proud of your handiwork. 

Remus lets out a relieved chuckle at your pride. “I’d say you’ve missed your calling, love. Should’ve been a nurse.”

“Oh yeah?” You laugh, feeling the tension leave the room. “Maybe I’ll change careers.”

“I take it back,” he says quickly, eyes softening with affection. “I want you all to myself. I’m selfish.”

“Well, you’re in luck. I have the whole of today off,” you say, throwing the used bandages and their wrappers into the bin by the door. “We can do whatever you want.”

He raised an eyebrow, your words tempting him. “Anything?”

“Yep, anything at all,” you nod at him. “Within your...physical capabilities,” you quickly add. There is no way that would be happening in his condition. 

“Well you’re no fun,” Remus frowns playfully, mischief still swimming in his eyes. “But I’m sure I can come up with something riveting for the both of us.”

You put your hands on your hips, assuming a determined stance. “I’m ready for whatever you’ve got in mind.”

He hums, pleased with your statement, lowering himself down from the counter and pulling his jumper back on. Grimacing as it brushes his skin. He motions for you to follow him into the living room, watching as he winces as he sits down on the couch, his face briefly tightening in pain. But then, true to form, he opens his wide arms and looks at you expectantly. “Come on then.”

You go to take a step forward but hesitate. You would love nothing more than to drape yourself over him, but the sight of his bandages stops you. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

A look of warmth crossed his face, shaking his head with a tender smile. “It’ll hurt more if you don’t let me hold you, darling. Come on.”

You can’t help but melt at his kind words, you gently ease yourself onto the couch, mindful of his injuries and not putting your full weight on him. His arms encase you instantly, pulling you impossibly closer despite the clear discomfort it caused him. 

“You’re stubborn, you know that?” You scold him, your cheek resting on his chest, mindful of the dressing on the opposite side. 

“Stubborn? No.” He quips, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Hopelessly in love? Maybe.”

You giggle, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you in a steady rhythm. “A bit of both, I think.”

It’s his turn now to chuckle, his tired bones relaxing further into the soft cushions. “You might be right.”

You both just lie there in a comfortable silence, the sound of the world beginning to wake up outside only added to the ambience. He was at peace with you In his embrace, glancing down at you as you gazed at him softly. Fingers tracing gentle circles on an unharmed piece of his chest. 

“So…” you begin, continuing your motions. “Any grand ideas for today?”

He shakes his head, stopping to meet your eyes, lips curling into a lazy smile. “Honestly? Just this. Just you.” His voice is playful but his words have never been more true. “Don’t need anything else.”

“Smooth,” you say sarcastically, suppressing a smirk of your own. 

“I’m serious, love,” he chuckles. “I can’t think of a better way to spend today.”

Your heart soared at his words, you carefully shifted to cup his face. “I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

He pushes himself further into your palm, eyes closing for the briefest of moments, his hand coming up to cover your own. “Have I mentioned that you’re too good for me?” He tries to make it sound like a joke, but the familiar self-doubt can still be heard in his voice. 

“Unfortunately, far too much,” you playfully glare. “You stubborn man.”

He reopens his eyes, now filled with an overwhelming amount of affection. It almost takes your breath away. 

“Then I’m sure you’ve heard me say how lucky I am as well,” he teases, his expression never faltering. 

“I’m the lucky one,” you grin cheekily, brushing back a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “My boyfriend makes an excellent cup of tea.”

“Is that all I’m here for?” He asks in mock offence, pulling you flush against him, despite the twinge of pain it caused. “Keeping me around for my tea-making skills?”

“Exactly,” you nestle your head against him. 

At that moment, everything felt right to him. Just the two of you, safe, together. Nothing else mattered to him apart from the girl in his arms. He knows the pain will linger—the scars, the transformations, all of it. But with you—his anchor—it feels just about bearable. And for the first time in a long time. He allows himself to feel hope. The hope of your future together. 

[deansapplepie]

You couldn’t lose each other

Summary: You were pregnant, then you weren’t.

Warnings: ANGST, pregnancy, miscarriage, mention of character death, mention of “putting someone down”, soft Merle, on purpose asshole Daryl, blood, hurt, mental instability, hurt, stubborn main characters, loss, grief, and maybe more. 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

A/N: I never experienced miscarriage and am writing everything based on my knowledge through series, movies, soap operas and books, so it may have inaccuracies. If you are sensible to any of those topics please don’t read, your mental health is more important!

It had started about a week ago, heavy dizziness and morning sickness (which didn’t happen exactly only in the morning). On top of that your period was late, which you tried to atribute to the sub nutrition all of you went through while on the road, but as soon as other symptoms started… you knew it was probably other thing.

You went on a run with Daryl to get more baby formula for Jude and just discreetly added a pregnancy test on your backpack, in a part you hoped Daryl wouldn’t look because he never did. As soon as you got to the prison and had some alone time you risked yourself going somewhere, no one would see you or find you, to pee on the damn thing and find the truth. The truth was… you knew it, you didn’t need a test, you were undoubtedly and very much pregnant.

One end of afternoon, Merle sat by your side and didn’t bother to tip toe around you. “When are ya gonna tell ‘im?”

“What?” He took you back with his question.

“When are ya telling my brother ya’re with his baby?” Your eyes widened at his question. “Daryl ain’t the only one with observation skills. Who ya think taught him everything? I saw the symptoms and the pregnancy test you hid on your pocket the other day.”

“Fuck you Dixons.”

“Ya already do it to one of us.” He sassy replied, you rolled your eyes as usually happened during your banters.

“Soon. I’m just waiting the whole governor thing end. He already has too much to worry about, he’ll freak out if I tell him now. He’ll probably put me on bubble of safety and not let me do anything.” You stated, Daryl could have the rough exterior but both of you knew how he was, how he cared about people. Also he had changed so much the last months, and it was for the better. “Don’t tell him, let me do it.”

“Al’ight.” He surprised you, you had learned how to deal with Merle, but he wasn’t the same asshole as before. Still an asshole though. “It’ll be good have a mini Dixon around. I’ll help to keep ya’ll safe.”

“I know, you can be a jerk sometimes but I know you care about your family.” You gave the older Dixon a small smile and squeezed his hand to reassure him. That had been one of the nicest things he ever told you and coming from Merle, that was a lot.

The governor had asked for Michonne to leave your group alone, you didn’t believe a word of it it, but Merle did or at least he had to try. That morning he disappeared with her and all of you knew what he was up to. Daryl went after them, you wanted to go too but of course he wouldn’t “allow” you.

Some time after, Michonne arrived, alone. You asked about Merle and Daryl, and she told everything that happened with Merle. He had set her free and went by himself. It wouldn’t end up well, you could feel it in your guts, and your feeling just confirmed to be true when Daryl arrived alone.

Everyone gathered around him to know what happened and he told you with teary eyes. The others left to give both of you some time.

“Daryl, I’m sorry.” You said, both of your hands cupping his face, he averted your eyes. “Hey, look at me.”

“Leave me alone…” he grumply answered trying to get out of your grasp.

“We’re together in this, huh? I’m here for you, we both cared about Merle.” He snorted.

“Ya cared about Merle? Ya never liked him!”

That wasn’t true, he knew it wasn’t. He was hurt, he had to put his brother down, there wasn’t anyone else that could do it for him, even if there was… it had to be him. Somehow, in his abused mind, he thought it was all his fault. Merle died because he wanted to be a better person, he wanted to protect his little brother as much as he could in this fucked up world, and that was the way he found to do it. It was just a matter of time for you to do the same and it would be entirely his fault if you ended like Merle. You were the last thing he had from the old world. You were the only good thing he had, and if he had to push you away to keep you alive, that was what he was going to do, because he couldn’t afford living in a world without you.

“This isn’t true, Daryl. You’re hurting, I get it…” he cut your speaking before you could finish.

“Ya don’t. Ya never will!” He distanced himself when you tried to touch his arm. “We should break up.”

“What?!”

“Ya heard it.” He confirmed.

“Ok, when you’re not speaking no sense we can talk, I know you’re not ok, but there’s a limit of shit I can take.” You wouldn’t continue to insist on it if he was going to continue acting like that. You knew he was suffering, but so were you and he was being a prick.

“There ain’t gonna be another talk. I said what I said.” Those words left his mouth as if they were nothing, but each of them felt like a knife in his throat.

“Is it really the moment for you to dump me?” You knew he was emotionally unstable, no one make good decisions like this.

“Did I stutter?” The moment he threw the harsh words, he knew he had got what he wanted, the hurt in your eyes pained in his chest and this time he was sure he had lost you for good.

Since that day, you didn’t talk to him and he also ignored you. You asked Rick to not put you both working together anymore. You moved your things to Carol’s cell, now also your cell. Woodbury had fallen, now the survivors of the town had joined you at the prison.

Your little secret was still yours, or sort of… Carol was a mother. She went through all the shit you were going through, all of you saw Lori going through it. She knew it already, but didn’t tell you anything until one week after everything that happened.

She asked you, “aren’t you telling him?”

This time you didn’t even got surprised and already knew what she was talking about. “No.”

“And when it starts to show?”

“I’ll tell I just fucked someone and was too drunk to remember.” You stubbornly replied.

“You’re being childish, he deserves to know.” She was right, but you were tired and emotionally damaged already.

“ ‘cause he’s being a fucking kid too. I get it, he’s suffering, but he needs to stop hurting people every time he’s hurt. It’s time he grows up and man up.” You said arms crossed.

“You know his past better than I, I thought you from all the people would understand.” The older woman wisely said.

“Carol, I appreciate your concern, he’s your friend too, but you don’t understand.” You said, was it you? Was it the hormones? You couldn’t know. “Please, don’t tell him. It’s not your place to do it.”

“I won’t. You’re the one that should do it.” As soon as she answered, she left you alone.

One week later, or a little more, it seemed like Rick had forgotten his promise that he wouldn’t put you ti work with Daryl as he put both of you on fence duty to kill the walkers. Ok, there were more people with you, but you couldn’t help but feel yourself being watched and you knew the weight of his stare. You could feel it in your soul. Also, you couldn’t help yourself and from time to time look at him, because you would be a liar if you said you didn’t love him anymore or that you didn’t find him handsome and attractive, and what’s beautiful was made to look at.

It was middle of the morning, even though it was starting to get cold the sun was strong for whoever was working under it. You had sweat and few stains of blood from the walkers you had killed through the fence. You were feeling extra tired, you thought it was because pregnant women got more sleepy, so you didn’t think about it so much.

Some minutes after you felt a sharp pain on your lower stomach. Weird. ‘Please let it just be a stomachache or gases’, you thought.

You continued working then you felt the pain in the same place but sharper. ‘Please, don’t let it be anything with my baby’, you thought again.

You kept doing your job, this time more slowly as you felt the pain irradiating through your body, until you felt a stabbing pain in the same place and something hot going down your legs. You looked down and saw blood. “NO!”

You shouted and that called people’s attention Daryl’s specially. He looked at you and all he could see was blood. Did you hurt yourself with the weapon? Did the governor came back and wounded you? Did somehow a walker managed to bite you?

“Nooo-hooo-ooo.” You shouted cried throwing yourself to the ground.

In seconds he was kneeling by your side. “Hey, hey, look at me. What is it? What happened, doll?”

“I lost it.” You said, crying more at your realization. “I lost it.”

“What did ya lose, babe?” He asked, he thought you were delirious due to the blood loss. His hands around your face trying to make you look at him, trying to ground you. He was panicking, where were you hurt? Was he going to loose you anyway and he had spent the last weeks loosing his time with you?

You cried. “Our baby, I lost our baby.” You said between sobs.

It hit him like a punch on his stomach. You said your baby, a baby from both of you, a baby he didn’t know existed, a baby that… his abused mind played with him again. A baby that could be possibly gone because of him. “Stay with me, love. I’m taking care of you.” Who were you? Just you? You and the baby? Was there any chance this was a weird bleeding but the baby would still be ok? He didn’t know. He knew nothing about it.

He didn’t think twice, he took you in his arms and started running. “HERSHEL!” He yelled the doctor’s name again and again, until he found him and had you in the infirmary.

Before getting to the infirmary you had passed out, maybe it was the shock or it could also be the blood loss, you’d never know.

Hershel examined you. Daryl stayed all the time by your side, making questions to the doctor. Teary eyes while he explained everything. You were indeed pregnant, and yes, you had lost the baby. Daryl’s hopes were shattered at pieces, he cried. He the big rough man that didn’t like to show his emotions cried, it was Hershel. He was a friend. He was family after all.

After making sure nothing had stayed in your uterus, the old man had a talk with the younger one. Hershel made sure Daryl knew it wasn’t his fault, at this point he already knew the archer well and knew he was guilting himself for it. He ensured it was something that could happen at this early stage, you were at the maximum 2 months pregnant according to the tissue your body expelled from you. That small tissue was what would be your baby. The feeding poor in nutrients could have harmed your body, it was pretty much a disorder in your uterus so that happened. There was no one to blame, besides the end of the world.

Some time had passed when you woke up, you were as much as clean as they could got you and you had warm feeling on your right hand. You looked to your side and you saw Daryl worried and guilty eyes.

“It’s not your fault.” You said. You remembered everything.

“Maybe.” He said, even if Hershel had already reassured him. “But it doesn’t make it less worse. I could have lived it with ya for the little time we had.”

“I was the one that didn’t tell you.” You turned to your side and extended your left arm till you were touching his face. “I’m sorry.”

“I AM sorry.” He said giving emphasis to that. “I… I dun know what I was thinking.”

“I know.” You knew he was lost at that moment, but it didn’t hurt you less when he pushed you away and both of you needed each other. “Merle wasn’t your fault. The baby neither.”

At the mention of Merle’s name and the baby, your voice quivered and the tears threatened to leave your eyes, and they did. They fell from your eyes and you couldn’t do anything about it. “I ain’t pushing ya away anymore. I… I was so afraid of losing ya too.” Tears also slipped on his face.

“Merle was happy, he knew he was going to be an uncle.” You remembered the conversation you had with him the day before he sacrificed himself. “He noticed it and asked me about it. I was going to tell you when the governor shit was over.”

You also felt guilty about Merle’s death. You knew sometimes he didn’t take some smart decisions, but did he tried to face it all alone because he also wanted to be a better person to his nephew or niece? He had told you he would protect all of you.

You sobbed. You both cried together, now your arms thrown around his neck and your face hiding in it. You both had lost too much already, you couldn’t afford losing anything else. You couldn’t lose each other.

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[louvaine]

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader synopsis: sacred midnight moments spent with the love of your life, mulling over the doubts that are beginning to drive you insane.

“Are you awake?”

It’s whispered words in the dead of night while the rest of the world rests, the moon illuminating the dark skies above. A sliver of light creeps in through the condensation  on the window, dancing along the rumpled sheets strewn over a tangled mess of limbs. It’s in the slow breath of Aaron as he leans over you, forehead pressed down to rest against your bare shoulder, the warmth of his breath dancing flames across your skin.

“I used to think that nothing could break us.”

His hand finds yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. It’s intimate, soft even, something sacred in the world of blood, murder, and undeniable tragedy. He presses another feather-light kiss against your skin, moving upwards slightly so that his hair is brushing against your jawline, his scent overwhelming you. His touch makes the room warmer somehow, and your future within its walls seems a little less bleak with every passing moment that you’re wrapped up in him.

“I was naive, Aaron.”

“Don’t──”

“How can this life not? How can it not break you?”

He sighs, closing his eyes. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Maybe,” you placate, then add, “for now.”

His gaze is piercing as he reaches across, pulling you into his chest. His arm wraps around your waist, and despite the heaviness in your stomach, it flutters at the sensation of his body pressed up against yours. Almost like the first time you saw him propped up against the back wall of the bar your friends had dragged you to, watching you move in time with the low, intoxicating music: a siren calling out to prey. He fell for you, hook, line and sinker just as much as you fell for him.

“I can take care of myself.”

A flash of jarring memories fuels your anxiety──

Aaron in the hospital, his skin gaunt and body lifeless under harsh, fluorescent lighting. Aaron, bloody and bruised, knuckles cut and sliced open as he tells tales of defending himself and his team. There’s so many moments that flicker through your mind, so many instances where it’s tortured your heart, seeing him hurt and broken, waiting for you to patch him up, softening his barbed edges.

“Not always,” you say, voice barely a whisper.

“I’ll always protect you and our family. Whatever it takes.”

It’s a promise he’ll keep until his last dying breath; a promise that’ll take him to the grave. But it’s also the promise that’s likely to get himself killed if it meant saving you. Aaron is the stoic Unit Chief, cold and heartless, keeping all his emotions close to his chest except for when it comes to his family. That’s the only time he’ll break every single rule to keep you safe, to protect you.

“Don’t you know that’s what I’m worried about?”

He smiles sadly, thumb brushing your lips. “Is that what’s keeping you up?”

“I always worry about you. It comes with the territory of loving you.”

Aaron hums in response, rolling over quickly so that he’s on top of you, his weight pressing you down further into the bed. He looks serious for a moment, the humour no longer visible against the darkness of his eyes as he leans down, pressing his lips against yours. It’s not a kiss that’s fuelled by intense desire or lust, it’s not filled with passion, it’s not rushed or messy, it’s just this: a kiss that barely lasts a minute, but is somehow enough for you to sink into. It overwhelms you: how soft he is when it’s just the two of you falling in love all over again with only the moon as a witness.

It feels a bit like coming home; comfortable; safe.

“I’ve got people watching my back,” he replies when he pulls back, his forehead resting gently against yours. “We’re a family. Nothing will change that.”

“Aaron──”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s empty promises at best but you can tell Aaron doesn’t want to continue this conversation. He adjusts his body against you, running a hand through his unkempt hair. He glances up at the window, the light hitting his face in a way that only seems to emphasise his boyish features and it looks like the weight of the future has finally been lifted off his shoulders by the sheer strength of the moonlight. It’s a moment where you can see the warmth back in his eyes, his genuine smile erasing the sunken years he’d taken on in the last few months, and it’s as if he’s never been as happy as he is right now.

He looks content, almost.

It feels surreal.

Jack coughs, the sound echoing through the dark house, shattering the suspended moment where the world had dwindled down to just the two of you. He’s the wake-up call to reality, a constant reminder of the struggle that’s still ahead as Aaron tries to balance his commitment to the BAU and his commitment to his family. Sometimes his obligation to his job outweighs his responsibility to you, and the arguments in the aftermath leave you feeling hollow. But for every disagreement, every missed date night, every fight, it only serves to fuel your determination to fight harder because you’re not sure you can survive the fallout if this fragile thing between you breaks, and you don’t want to lose him.

“I love you.”

His lips twitch upwards. “I know.”

He leans over the side of the bed, grabbing some clothes to throw on before he goes to check on Jack, the crisp chill of the house ensuring that he doesn’t walk around half naked, much to your disappointment. He smiles fondly back at you, the sight of you wrapped up in his bed igniting a familiar warmth in his chest. He likes to think he’ll have you forever. He reminds himself that you’re not something he’ll ever give up without a fight, a promise he made to himself on the day you’d first said you loved him. 

He knows that you’d never let him leave without one either.

“Don’t be long,” you murmur, adding, “I’ve missed you.”

Between the endless cases, keeping his team in line, and his own demons that he’s still learning to live with, he rarely sees you anymore. This is the first time in a week that he’s spent longer than an hour in your presence. He watches you stretch your body out, rolling into the abandoned warmth of his side of the bed, like seeking him out has become one of your basic human instincts. He watches you for a moment, allowing his guard to drop long enough to treasure this singular moment with you.

It tugs at his aching heart; he knew you felt lonely.

But not to the extent where you’d willingly admit it to him.

“I’ve missed you too,” his voice is soft, gentle.

He thinks about the last week where you’d settled for salvaging a spare moment in the brief spaces in his busy schedule, sneaking around like teenagers, hiding in the shadows with Aaron’s lips on your neck. He’s kissed you a thousand times, pressing you up against the wall, stolen fragments in his office with the blinds drawn shut, away from prying eyes.

He’d wanted to apologise for it; to make up for it somehow. 

Except for you, there’s nothing to forgive him for.

He smiles to himself, saying, “I love you.”

A pause, and then, “I know.”

He stumbles at the open tenderness in your voice, back at your side within a second so he can lean down long enough to press a kiss against your temple. He only lingers for a moment, but there’s a faint curve to his lips as he’s leaving the room, knowing that he’ll be back in your arms before he knows it.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi! I really like your writing, and I was wondering if I could request a Yandere!Platonic 1st Years (+Grim) with an Eri!Reader?

How would they feel learning of her abused, trauma, and her unfamiliarity with general society and social norms? (Who’s looking murderous when they see just the scars littered around her arms and legs when her bandages are removed?)

Though it’s a whole different story when she says she sees her power as nothing but a ‘curse’, and her existence a ‘burden’ that only makes others suffer? All because of the man named ‘Overhaul’, the one who did this so her? (Who’s about to go feral when she admits she doesn’t remember how to smile?)

But she starts to become more positive thanks to Grim and slowly the others (She likes Grim and is very sparkly eyed because he talks, breaths fire and thinks he’s amazing)

Imagine when she says she made a friend all on her very own who’s ‘like her’, though they lightly chastise her that she shouldn’t talk with strangers (It’s Malleus, they’re both lonely, have horns she has 1, while Malleus has 2, have an incredible power that’s very dangerous, and they’re unfamiliar/slow with society)

Eri Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’ve been through so much….so you’ve been told. The pain, the heartbreak, the constant voice in your head that has guilt weighing on your little heart. Your transportation to Twisted Wonderland couldn’t come at a better time. They’re going to welcome you cage you to this new world more than willing to spoil you to your hearts content:

Grim 

“Oi oi servant they all think we’re monsters!”

“...yeah?”

“Yeah! So we gotta show them we’re gonna be the greatest mages in here!”

“Oh….okay!”

He’s the perfect chaotic companion

He teaches you to allow yourself to do what you want

Granted his guidance isn’t all knowing

No matter how tasty Heartslabyul’s tarts are you shouldn’t eat them everytime you visit — especially without permission

Either way you’re learning to forgive yourself and allow you to have fun

And leave it to Grim to say whatever snarky thing you’d like to say when your big-brothers get in the way

“Nyeh! You won’t be able to do anything against my flames, nyah!”

Ace Trappola

“Hey if I catch you moping about that plague doctor guy, I’ll sock ya in the head!”

“Ace?!”

“I-i-i won’t!”

In a weird way you’re so used to being bullied (by kai) that you tend to take his bully-affection to heart

You know he cares, he just won’t tell you often

He reminds you of a certain blonde…

It also makes you more privy to his very willing desire to steamroll over anyone he deems a problem for you

“I think he meant that as a joke, Ace…”

“Joke schmoke, I warned you, you stain! I’m putting you in the medical wing.”

“Ace, please!” 

Deuce Spade

“(Y/n), did you eat today? Are you feeling well? Do you need me to carry you!”

Mother hen of the group

He’s hovering close behind even when you don’t see him

Always making sure you’re safe and happy as can be

He’s teeming with anxiety if he’s not watching you himself

Even worse if you get hurt accidentally or on purpose

Now he’s Mama bear totally bearing the claws to protect you

He’s not going to leave you to defend yourself

Especially when your abilities hinge on your mental state

He’s trying his best

“Are you doing the breathing techniques Crewel recommended? Where’s your paper bag?”

Jack Howl

“Hello little one.”

“Hi.”

“Would you…like to sit on my shoulders?”

“Yes!”

Your #1 guard dog

Doesn’t have to worry considering Deuce is freaking out for him

He’ll be the sane voice of reason because Ace isn’t anywhere close to reliable in his eyes

Naturally he entrances you with his tail and overall dog-like personality

But don’t forget he’s got the bite force of a wolf that he’s not afraid to use if he deems fit

“Pup, don’t stop yourself from having fun or being…young. I–we will keep you safe.”

Epel Felmier

“You’re so pretty.”

“...Thanks.”

You’re the only one who can get away with calling him that

And he loves nothing more than escaping Vil to find out what other sweet makes you smile sweetly 

He’s also one of the first to join Ace as part of the self-proclaimed protection committee

He’s also one of the first to suggest taking it further than a mere beatdown

Anything for his new little sibling

“If there’s no body…there’ll be no problems.”

Sebek Zigvolt

“TINY HORNED HUMAN! WHERE IS YOUR DIASOMNIA PIN!” 

“Uhm…Ace took it from me…said it was unfair.”

“THAT FOOL. COME CHILD I SHALL BESTOW UPON YOU THE PIN AGAIN.”

Is definitely apart of a brainwash committee of his own and is insistent you become Diasomnia’s new mascot…under Malleus of course

His loudness sometimes scares you off but he means well

And will no doubt join the others if a few heads need to roll

“Rest easy, child. On my watch, no one will harm you.”

[neo-nomatrix]

Heart to Heart

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You’ve been traveling with Henry and Sam for over a year now. Once you meet Joel and Ellie your entire world changes.

Warnings: Age gap (joel is 56 reader is 26) Spoilers for TLOU episode 5!! Angst bro.

a/n: this episode tore me apart. Italics is ASL. Bold and italics is not.

word count: 998

4 months. It had been 4 months since you laughed. Not the kind of laugh just to convince Sam that everything was gonna be okay. But an actual laugh. The kind you gasp for air, your eyes shut and your stomach and face hurt after. At some point you wish to feel that again. The unexplainable happiness that stays with you forever.

You met Joel and Ellie only a day ago. Ellie was sweet, she was innocent. Ellie was the perfect friend for Sam, she made him laugh in a way you couldn’t. It made you happy, so so happy. Joel was different. He has a deep rugged voice with a Texan accent, you remember after hearing it looking over at Henry and saying “He’s strong. He can protect us. Plus, he’s pretty hot,” earning a laugh from Henry.

_

You’ve finally gotten away from Kathleen; well less gotten away and more she got infected. You’ve been in an abandoned Motel for only an hour when Joel sat next to you.

“So…he’s your what? Your boyfriend?” Joel asked, his voice not sounding confident at all.

“Who? Henry? No. Wait, Sam or Henry?” You ask quickly with a slight smile.

You see Joel roll his eyes and look the other way. You also hear a laugh, his laugh.

“I got you motherfucker! I made you laugh!” You hit his arm lightly laughing with him.

“Whatever,” he tells you.

“I don’t mean to get all sappy but it’s been a while since I laughed. Like actually laughed,” You admit to Joel.

“Yeah, Yeah me too.”

“There’s a uhm, amusement park not too far from here. It’s kind of a reminder to me that it’s not all that bad here,” you mention to him, smiling to yourself.

“You’re old enough to remember amusement parks?” He asks skeptically.

“Kind of, I was 6 when the outbreak happened. Mainly remember stuff like that from movies or whatever.” You look down at your feet while saying this.

Joel stays silent but his eyes keep on you.

“Hey Joel. Look I don't care if you like us or not but please promise me you’ll keep us safe? I can’t lose anyone else.”

He leans closer to you, taking your head in his hand and placing it on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to worry anymore, okay? I’m gonna protect you.”

You both pause for a minute before Joel speaks up again.

“Me and Ellie, we’re going down to Wyoming to find my brother. If you wanted to go with us, you’re uhm, more than welcome to,” he says hesitantly.

“I would like that. I’d really like that. I’ll ask them about it tomorrow,” you respond smiling wildly

_

“Y’know, Sam really likes you. It’s been a while since I've seen him this happy,” You tell Ellie while you get them situated for bed.

“Yeah, and Joel likes you,” She says back.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

“It’s true! You really don’t see the way he looks at you?” She says back, causing you to smile.

_

You spent the whole night snuggled up next to Joel, feeling his warm breath on your neck. He kept a steady grip on your waist almost as if he was scared you’d run while he was asleep.

You woke up to a scream. Ellie’s scream. Sun is peeking out of the window. The door beside you slams open with Sam lunging at Ellie. Ellie is trying to kick Sam off of her but it’s useless. Joel reaches for the gun but Henry is quicker. Henry points it at Joel as Ellie screams.

“Joel! Help!”

As Joel tries to reach out to Ellie Henry shoots the gun next to his foot.

You’re still in shock trying to not shake. You slowly back up onto the wall as Henry holds the gun to Joel. In an Instant Henry Moves the gun to Ellie and Sam.

BANG

The gun goes off and a splatter of blood decorates the dirty wall. Sams blood. Everyone is silent until Henry moves the gun back to Joel.

“Henry, give me the gun,” Joel commands slowly.

“What did I do?” Henry speaks up softly.

“What did I do? What did I do?,” he repeats over and over again.

He faces Sams cold, still body. The only thing moving being the pool of blood.

Your fully sat against the wall, your hand cupping your mouth holding back sobs.

You’re silent until Henry points the gun to his temple and it goes off.

BANG

For the second time in this room. For the second time in the last minute. For the second time the same gun goes off. Killing the last people you had.

A loud croaky scream, almost shriek, rips out of your mouth. You fall forward to your knees, tears now streaming down your face as you sob

NO, NO, NO. PLEASE

This can’t be happening. One minute ago both of them were alive. One minute ago you dreamt of traveling with the four of them. All of it. Gone.

_

Joel shovels dirt over the two bodies as you sit next to the “graves.” Tears still run down your face as Ellie places Sams writing board on the ground.

I’M SORRY

The words etched into the plastic lay there.

“C’mon,” Joel says as he reaches a hand out to you. It takes all the strength you have at the moment to get you away from the dirt, from the bodies. Joel's hand stays on your back guiding you to catch up with Ellie. You don’t look back. You’re afraid that if you look back you won’t want to look forward ever again.

It had been four months since laughing made your chest hurt. Four months since laughing made your face hurt. It wasn’t laughing that caused you this unexplainable feeling, it was the very much explainable feeling of guilt and death. And you wish you never have to feel like this ever again.

[lexlovergirl]

ྀCross ྀ

Farleigh x fem (Christian/virgin)reader

Tw: smut, unprotected sex, fingers sucking, mostly the foreplay, reader wears a cross but this isn’t in mocking Christianisme it’s just something I thought about don’t be mean 😭 I’m not being disrespectful towards any religions,

You and Farleigh were dating for a few weeks now, you guys haven’t gotten further then making out and dry humping. You were a virgin and you wanted to take your time with him.

Farleigh waited for you, he wants you to feel safe around him and won’t force you to do anything.

But tonight felt different, you were ready. Once again you guys yourself on your bed, you were on Farleighs lap,arms wrapped around his neck. Farleigh has his hands all over you, they roamed from your back to your butt, squeezing every time he’s there.

You pull away to breathe a little and look at the beautiful boy in front of you. Your hands move to cup his cheek, stroking gently. Smiling softly you give him that look that tells him everything, all you wanna do with him.

His eyes widened slightly as he understood. “Are you sure” he asks with low voice. Your only response is a small nod. Farleighs smile grew bigger with your answer.

With your consent given, he grab the back of your thighs are sit you on the bed as he got up to stand in front of you.

A hint of nervousness washes over your body as your fingers comes to play with the cross on your necklace as a reflex. Farleigh takes notice of that movement and the way you’re also biting your lip. He couldn’t help but to think how beautiful you look, the way you are looking up to him and while you bit your lip, it was something straight out of a movie.

“Are you nervous…?” He ask with a small smirk on his face. “A little” you shyly reply. “A little?… is it because we’re about to do something you’re not prepared for” he says half teasing and half worried.

“I am prepared” you say trying as hard as you can to sound confident. His smirk grew larger he wanted to you to be officially his, he wanted to steal that innocence of yours. “How about you take my necklace off? I don’t think there’s place for Jesus in the room right now”

As you say that his eyes go down to your necklace. “Right…. I can see what you’re implying here” he says in his teasing tone as he moves his hands to slowly take the jewelry off.

You watch him slowly take it off, the little cross reminding you of your sins. You felt the necklace come off, his teasing had cause your mind to wonder to your sins. But that didn’t matter to him, what matters is that the necklace is now off.

The necklace now in his hand, your own hand place itself on your collarbone, tracing your fingers over the spot it used to be. He also takes notes on that movement and also the fact that you are tilting your head and biting your lip. Something about that was driving him wild in your beauty.

He then puts the necklace in his pocket, seeing the look on your face he place a few words to reassure you. “I’ll keep that has a souvenir, I’ll get you a new one” your response was only a nod as you feel his hand come up to your collarbone.

Your hand met his and you play with his fingers. They were now being moved and traced as you play with them. That go his attention as the gesture felt so amazing and so right to him. A smile replaced easily his smirk.

“I love your fingers” you say soft as you bring them up to kiss them. He was a big fan of what’s happening even more when your kisses get sloppy. That got him more into it; the way you were so messy with it. You were driving him past sanity.

You focus more on his pointer and middle finger almost sucking the tip. Those fingers you were kissing, were his favourites at the moment after seeing the way your lips were in them. “Can i?” You ask of a soft voice.

There was a pause and he finally nods his head in a yes to your question. You take those two fingers in your mouth, lightly sucking, showing submission to him.

“God damn” he moans, Farleigh haven’t been that turn on in so long, your submission was something that was doing it for him.

You kept sucking and sometimes twirling your wet tongue around his fingers. You are doing an amazing job at being his good girl, your boyfriend was very pleased with the way you are around him.

Unfortunately you pull away from his soak fingers , a groan leaving his lips. “You like that” you ask a fake look of innocence on your face, you are no saint and he knows that. “You know I love that” he responds looking down at his now saliva coated digit.

“You know how to please a guy, don’t you?” He ask with a familiar smirk. And your reply is perfect, almost heavily. “I know how to please you” that made his smirk widened. “And that’s all that I really care about… right?” He says in his teasing manner.

“Yea” you whisper softly as you kneel on the bed to unbutton his shirt placing a kiss at each button. Your voice, when you talked made his body tremble. His shirt came off so you can stare at his body…his fit body…the way the muscles on his arms showed…the smooth skin that was once hidden from you.

You take a minute to admire his body but your gaze go back to his face, it always were your favourite part about him. His breath was heavier when you looked at his body. You staring at him like this makes everything feel all more real.

You offer him small smile before placing a kiss on his lower stomach. He takes this as a signal to unbuckle his belt, throwing it in the floor. Farleigh is excited, he’s waited for this moment for so long, even before y’all got together. It was finally happening.

On your side you are still a little nervous but Farleigh guides you and he will continue to do so. “It’s okay, baby, take your time” he reassures you stroking your cheek gently as you un zip his jeans. As much as he wanted to take you now he wanted you to be comfortable and safe.

Farleigh takes off his pants completely leaving him half-naked. He smiles at you a tilt his head to indicate what’s next and assuring you it’s all gonna be fine. So you lay down the bed like he told you too. All sort of feelings in you but you trust him with them.

It’s a matter of seconds before you feel his hand undoing your pants. Once they’re thrown on the floor he takes a good look at you. You notice his boner becoming more evident. You know how you make him feel, he wants you all to himself for the night and the next ones.

His eyes burns through you. As if he tries to remember all the smallest details about you. He acts as if he’ll never see you like that again but you both know it’s not true; it’s only the beginning. “So beautiful” he mumbles leaning down to press a kiss on your stomach.

Your panties were matching your bra, all pink and all pretty, all for him. Pink was a colour attractive to him, he loved the way it looked innocent in a context that had non of it. But they’re in the way…

Before you can even tell him to go on, he takes your underwear off. He admires your pussy, it was so perfect and it was his. But you’re soon to close your thighs embarrassed, seeing this reaction Farleigh places his hand on your knees in a comforting way.

“Do you really want this” the boy asks. You’re quick to nod your head but he wait for verbal consent and makes that clear by giving you a certain look. “Yes, I want this, Farleigh” you whimper almost getting impatient with the pace of the events.

“Good girl” he says opening your legs. It was like heaven for him, you spread open on the bed as you just look up to him with a needy stare. Farleigh then kneels between your legs, his big hands making your thighs look small as he rubs them.

You watch me get closer and closer to your heat. It was something so sensual and lustful. He looks at you in a way no one else did before, he feels so attracted to you like a magnet you dawn him.

“After that your all mine get it?” He says slightly harsh, seeing how beautiful you look he wants that sight for him and only him. It was selfish and possessive maybe a little bit toxic but he didn’t care you are his forever.

“Yes, I’m all yours” you say desperately. Farleigh only chuckle he love seeing you that way, admitting that he’ll be the only one to see that perfect body of yours. He tried to act confident but Farleighs stomach is flipping the sight of your body made him feel all types of way.

“I wanna see those beautiful tits” Farleighs voice pierced through the air, he always love your breast. He could fuck them but he is going to fuck your pussy first, he didn’t want to be that selfish. You unclamp your bra as you knew he wouldn’t be capable. The second you do, Farleigh takes it off you throwing across the room.

You let out a small chuckle at your boyfriends behaviour. “By the way you act it looks like you want to fuck my boobs” you roll your eyes playfully but realize your boyfriends face turns red. You make the maths and laugh. “Seriously, Farleigh?” You ask but that makes him groan. “Stop” he whines burring his face in your chest, leaving kisses there.

His kisses trail up to your neck, making dark marks on it. He never cared if the hickey were visible or no, he cared about making you wet by it. To test that his fingers find their place on your folds. He was right, he always were, you are soaking wet. The contact make you gasp and as soon as you make the sound his leave your cunt.

Of course Farleigh wants you to get pleasured but now it’s his dick or nothing. His painfully hard dick, you almost felt bad at the sight. Your gaze was down looking at his covered cock, only you weren’t nervous. You feel excited and needy. You want him so bad and he feels it.

Following your gaze, Farleigh chuckles shaking his head before he takes off his boxer, now both of you naked. You gaze doesn’t move still looking at him. Butterflies intensify in your stomach, from the sight and the sudden feeling of his warm hand on your breast.

“You ready?” The curly headed boy ask running his tip on your entrance, wanting you to be prepared. Your response was quick and simple “yes” and it was all it took him to push himself slowly in, he took his time stretching you out. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he wants you to be pleasured.

You moan at the feeling, it hurts but a good type of hurting. You feel him twitching inside of you as he waits for you to be adjust to his size. A nod of your head and he begins to trust inside of you.

Farleigh keeps a slowly pace, he wouldn’t want to overwhelm you. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sound of both of your moans. You knew Farleigh was a vocal man, just not to that point. But for him it’s was heaven, your cunt was so tight around him, clenching when he hits that spot. It is impossible for him not to moan and whimper not when the pussy is so good.

“One rule when you fuck me,…” Farleigh says in in between breaths and moans “eyes on me” he say this time harshly , you open up your eyes meting with a beautiful view; your boyfriend, mouth wide open, his swollen lips, sweat rolling down his forehead and his curls out of place. “Good girl” he whimpers.

He went a little deeper into you, hitting that spot over and over again. Your moans get louder and louder, his also. You are both reaching your climaxes, looking for that blizz of pleasure. “Far-Farleigh… i can’t”you whimper while scratching you nails down his back and that one little move makes his dick twitch.

“I know baby, you’re being so good right now” He praises you, his tone soft. “Come for me baby, I know you can” Farleigh adds as he cups your cheek to wipe the little tears you didn’t notice had fallen.

His mouth connects with your breast, kissing each one of them multiple times. And your gone,with such a little action he got you into pure euphoria. You moan loudly it makes Farleigh look up, a soft smirk forming on his lips.

You come down a minute later, Farleighs cock still trusting in you as he soon reaches his end too. “You can cum inside” you say, your thighs shaking form the overstimulation. “Fuckk..” he moans as he finally cums inside of you.

When he pulls out you both whine, everything that has happened was just so good. He was so delicate with you, sometimes you realize he’s only done with you, a warm feeling of validation forming in your chest.

The moment Farleigh is laying beside you, you take it as a invitation to curl yourself against him. That makes him a little surprise but he gladly wrap his arms around you. His fingers are tracing forms on your bare back. “I love you” he mumbles after a while. “I love you too” your response was immediate, no need to think about it.

It was surely the best first time ever and did I mention first “I love you” too?

ྀིྀི ྀིྀི ྀིྀི

[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏

Toji Fushiguro

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[Chapter 15] Keep Megumi Away From Scissors!

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

When Toji is back home, you make it your mission that he is as comfortable as he can possibly be. When you’re off work, you spend every single minute with him at his apartment to fulfill his every need; this means that you’re also taking care of Megumi while Toji fully recovers. He has a complete week off from work, and he gets to be lazy.

Toji likes to be lazy but he feels like he’s useless, and he doesn’t like feeling useless. So occasionally you have to order him to lay down and stop doing whatever he’s doing– Toji hates being told what to do but he has no option but to listen to you. If he doesn’t, he gets in trouble with you and he doesn’t want to get in trouble with you.

It’s fair to say that your relationship is building back up, even when you have many unresolved issues that you have to talk about. Bringing it up isn’t the best while he’s recovering, but you do know that you have to talk about it before proceeding with a relationship. You’re not focusing on his second job, or his job for that matter. You just want him to recover.

“Megumi, don’t bother your father while he’s eating.” You tell the child that keeps poking the man that tries to eat his soup. Megumi pouts before he stops, and he drags his feet to play with his toys. You have a smile on your face, sitting across from Toji. You stare at him, and when you realize how weird it is that you’re simply staring while he eats, you attempt to look away.

“You know I’m fine now.” He assures you, and you raise your brows. 

“Is that your way of kicking me out?” You ask, and his eyes widen. He shakes his head because he definitely doesn’t want you out, but he also doesn’t want you to overwork yourself with him. You chuckle at his reaction, “It sounded like it.”

“I just don’t want you to worry so much.” He responds, and you find yourself smiling at him. You stare at each other for a moment, admiring each other’s presence until your eyes glance at Megumi who holds a pair of scissors in his hands. Your eyes widen watching in slow motion as he cuts a big chunk of his hair.

“Hey! Megumi!” You raise your voice at him, and he freezes in his spot. He’s been caught. There’s nothing he can do to escape this situation. “Put the pair of scissors down!”

He does put them down, but in the end he crosses his arms and pouts. You don’t care, and you continue to watch until he plays with something safe. You then look at Toji, a sigh escaping your lips, “Looks like he needs a haircut.”

“Didn’t he just give himself one?” Toji jokes, and you roll your eyes before a chuckle leaves your lips. Toji then gives his attention to Megumi, looking at the pouty child and feeling a tug in his heartstrings. He doesn’t like to admit how big of a sucker he is for his son, he’d do just about anything for the child. “Come here, stinky, let me see the damage.”

Megumi walks over and Toji inspects the scalp, holding back a big laugh as he sees the damage. He then ruffles Megumi’s hair and comments, “Seems like you’re getting a buzzcut.”

“A what?” Megumi asks and Toji motions an electric razor, running it through his hair. It scares Megumi and he runs your way so you can protect him, hugging you which causes you to hug him back. “Daddy wants to cut my hair.”

“Didn’t you already do that, Gumigumi?” You try your best to suppress your laughter, especially when you look at Toji. He tries to eat the remainders of his soup without laughing at his son. “I’ll take you to the barbershop tomorrow, and we’re gonna get you a decent haircut. Okay?”

“Okay.” He responds. He pulls away from the hug and you kiss his cheek, and in return, he does the same to you. He walks back to his toys, and you turn your attention back to Toji.

“You wanna sleep over?” He asks, and while you’re tempted to accept, the place around you is very cramped. Even though you’ve been spending every free minute of your day here, you find that the area doesn’t have extra space for you.

“Is there enough space for me?” You reply, and Toji looks around the small living space. He purses his lips together, while he thinks about it, before he lands on the decision of,

“We can just kick Megumi and his toys to the curb.” Toji jokes, causing Megumi to yell,

“Hey! Leave my toys alone.” It causes Toji’s brows to raise.

“So we can kick you out then?” Toji asks, and of course Megumi doesn’t realize it’s a joke. So he crosses his arms again, sitting down before he begins to cry. You stand up and walk over to him, hugging him and assuring him,

“Your daddy would never do that. It’s a joke, baby.” You hear Toji laugh, and you have to roll your eyes as you comfort Megumi. Toji seems to tease Megumi a lot more lately, and you assume it’s his way of showing affection to his son but the four-year-old obviously isn’t going to pick up on it. You wonder if Toji has always been like this with the child, or if it’s just something that he’s been doing lately because you’re here to mend things.

Once Megumi calms down, you grab your phone and look at the time. It causes you to hug Megumi before standing up, “I should get going now. I have an early day tomorrow.”

“It’s the weekend.” Toji reminds you, standing up from his seat as well. He’s following you as you walk towards the door. 

“I still have to do a lot around my house, so it’s best for me to wake up early. Plus I have to get Megumi to a barbershop.” You tell him, and you almost feel like you’re the kid’s mother. You certainly love him as if he were your son.

“That should be my duty.” Toji tells you while you open the door. You raise your brow at him.

“You’re going to shave his head off, I can’t trust you.” You comment, and he ends up laughing in response. He’s also viewing you as a parental figure for his son, after all, you’re the only other person that Megumi can rely on.

“You’re right.” He responds. You’re about to walk away, but you can’t leave without kissing Toji’s cheek. He’s blushing as you walk away, a foolish smile on his lips.

When he shuts the door and turns around, Megumi has the scissors in his hands again. Toji sighs, rolling his eyes, “Put them down.”

Toji joins you the next day to give Megumi a haircut. His hair is pretty short, but it isn’t a buzzcut so the child is happy with it. Toji says that his hair grows pretty fast so it’ll be back to normal in no time. Megumi still cries during his haircut, and Toji promises that they’ll go to the park after, even if it’s so cold out.

“Hopefully he’ll tire out soon.” You comment, sitting on a bench as you watch Megumi play around. The sun hits you directly and it warms you up, but you’re still cold.

“You can go back home, if you’d like. You don’t have to stick around for him.” Toji responds, making you roll your eyes. You hate every time he says that because you’re obviously going to stick around. “But if you’re sticking around, I can warm you up.”

“How?” You ask, and Toji engulfs you in a hug. You find yourself smiling, giving into his hug. “This is nice.”

“Yeah…” He responds. Toji keeps watch on Megumi, but it gets boring watching the same child go up the slide and down over and over again. “Do you… Want to go on a date?”

You look up at him, a smile on your lips. You’ve been dying to go on a date with him but of course you weren’t going to be the first to ask him out after everything… Your feelings for him were fading away but they came rushing back the moment you got a call from the hospital.

“I would love to.” You answer. He’s tempted to peck your lips, but he’s scared that it’s too sudden considering he just asked you out on a date. You’ve definitely done much more than just kissing, so he has no idea why he’s shy of a kiss. “But… We do have to discuss a lot of stuff and talk about everything before starting an actual relationship.”

“You’re right. We do.” He agrees. But he’s still happy. Happy that he’s going on a date with you, that you’re with him, that he’s hugging you and keeping you warm. Toji has the same feelings for you. “Not right now though, right?”

“Not if you don’t want to.” You say. The moment is too nice to ruin with something that could possibly ruin your day. Plus it’s nice to hear–

“Excuse me?! Is this your son?!” A woman asks which makes you both look her way. You look at her livid face, and you wonder what’s going on. 

“Yes.” You both answer, for you it’s a force of habit at the daycare. You look down, her hand wrapped around Megumi’s wrist. One hand holds a pair of scissors while the other holds a chunk of long black hair, that’s obviously not his own. He’s guilty as charged.

“Megumi…” You begin, a sigh leaving your lips as you shake your head. You wonder how the hell he even managed to get those scissors. Toji is trying his best not to burst into a fit of laughter, trying to put on the angry dad look. “I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah… We’re really sor–” Toji can’t even get the word out. He doesn’t finish his sentence, standing up and taking Megumi from the lady’s grasp. “He’s just jealous because he doesn’t have that much hair anymore. Let’s go. We’re going home.”

“But I want to–” You hear Megumi. You stand up and begin to walk with Toji, who drags his son away. You mutter one last apology to the woman before focusing on Megumi and Toji.

“Maybe he can open up a barbershop one day.” You comment, trying to drown out the cries of Megumi who keeps begging to go back to the playground.

“One day, not today.” Toji responds, still trying his best to not laugh at everything. He doesn’t want to encourage Megumi’s naughty behavior.

“Yeah… For now we have to make sure to keep him away from scissors.”

[borathae]

“Taehyung doesn’t possess patience when it comes to reconnecting with his boyfriend. Jungkook’s there to remind him to take it easy despite the aching longing.”

Pairing: Vampire!Taehyung x Vampire!Jungkook

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut, some domestic Fluff in the beginning, Polyamory!AU

Warnings: Taehyung has major FOMO poor boy, he misses his poly family :(, then Kookie comes back home heheh, this is disgusting nasty porn yall, the neediest vampire sex ever, Hard Dom & Top!Jungkook, neediest sub & Bottom!Taehyung, tears, drool, painful anal without preparation at first because Tae wants it, before Kook decides enough is enough and prepares him, strength & muscle kink, feral play (this is a needy Ripper "hunting" a needy Normal besties), rimjob, anal fingering, anal fisting (the real deal), he takes him into a headlock as he does it, lube enema, dirty talk, huge ownership kink (Tae calls Kook "Owner" and Kook calls him "property"), slight dollification, praise, degradation, hair pulling, big dicks, non painful anal as well, oh Tae you impatient bottom, rough blood drinking, stuff goes up Tae's ass which shouldn't go up his ass jsjjsj, besties you have no idea how unhinged this is, but it is also insanely soft and safe, the most comforting aftercare, they're so in love omfg

Wordcount: 8.8k

a/n: this is based on anonie's idea, i probably made it way hornier than you wanted it but i couldn't help myself, i was ovulating as i worked on it fajdsjfa i feel like i need to write your idea as well hahah keep it tame because this is quite frankly nasty porn bahahha enjoy besties, this is so disgusting omfg 😩💜

Taehyung has been alone at the estate for five days. Truly and really alone. You, Yoongi and Hoseok are visiting Seokjin and Emma in Gordes. Jimin is currently visiting friends in London and won’t be home for another week. And Jungkook, well, Jungkook has been on a boxing camp trip for a week now. Which leaves poor Taehyung all alone at the estate. 

He could have obviously gone to Gordes as well or went with Jimin, and Jungkook would have probably liked him there with him as well, but Taehyung had a painting to finish. He really wanted to finish it. Being alone at the estate, trapped in the ecstatic state of painting was fun for the first three days, but Taehyung has been beginning to feel lonely. A painting can only distract him that much before the sad state of himself comes creeping up on him.

Taehyung hadn’t even realised how much of his day actually consists of being with his forever family. Be it voluntarily or just simply by existing in the same space together. Taehyung really began to miss those small moments of quality time. 

Painting doesn’t feel as nice anymore and he regrets not accompanying one of his friends. He could be in Gordes right now, sipping French wine with his friends, he could be in London right now chatting with Jimin and his friends, he could also be in some rural American boxing camp, watching Jungkook hit punches at other boxing lovers. He could be somewhere else other than his lonely, quiet atelier. 

Taehyung huffs out air in frustration and drops the paint brush in the water. He doesn’t want to paint anymore. 

He gets up and leaves the atelier and soon his wing. The estate is so big and so empty. Every room he passes makes him feel more and more frustrated. 

Perhaps he could talk to someone on the phone. The time shows eight at night, so everyone must still be awake.

He tries you first. You don’t pick up your phone, but a text message arrives soon after.

-          Sweetest ♡: I’m sorry, my darling but we’re currently at a wine tasting and I can’t talk here. I’ll call back later. I love you ♡ 

Taehyung pouts. A wine tasting?? This is so unfair! He wants to be at a wine tasting as well! 

He sends you an answer with a jealous pout on his lips.

-          Taehyung: Don’t worry about it. Have fun, my darling ♡ 

-          Sweetest ♡: We do. We’re thinking of you, sweetiepie eheh ♡

You attached a selfie of you and the others. Seokjin and Emma are glued together. Emma is grinning brightly, while Seokjin smolders like always. Yoongi has his arm around you, throwing up a peace sign with a toothless smile, while you in contrast show your upper and lower teeth in a cute smile. Hoseok is the one holding the phone, making a cute kissy face at the camera. You all have a wine glass in your hands. 

Taehyung smiles and pouts at the same time. As much as he feels sad about it, he also really likes this selfie. You took this picture just for him, thinking of him, but he wants to be on it as well! It’s unfair! He wants to be on the selfie and not here! 

-          Taehyung: I want to be with you :( I regret my decision of staying here :(

-          Sweetest ♡: Nooo Tete, I’m sorry you feel this way :( maybe you could still book a ticket and come here belated?

-          Taehyung: Perhaps I will truly do this. I shall talk to Jimin first. I need to hear human voices again.

-          Sweetest ♡: Gosh, I understand :( I promise once I have time, I’ll call you back ♡

-          Taehyung: Take your time. I love you ♡

-          Sweetest ♡: Love you more, darling sweetest sugerbutt ♡ 

Taehyung laughs, scrunching his nose. He likes it when you call him silly nicknames. This instantly lifted his mood. He sends you one last text which consists of laughing emojis and a heart, then tries to call Jimin.

His best friend picks up after the fifth ring. Loud techno music fills Taehyung’s speaker instantly.

“Hey Tete, I can’t talk right now. We’re at this rave and it’s crazy loud here. I’ll call you back later.”

The phone call ends again. Taehyung pouts. Well, that was a fail. This is so unfair! One friend group is spending their evening tasting French wine, while the other is getting drunk at a rave. Taehyung has never in his life felt more left out than he does right now. This is so unfair! 

He tries to call Jungkook. Perhaps he will finally give him the kind of human contact he needs. 

“Hey”

“Kookie, he-”

“You’ve reached my voicemail which means I’m currently not available. Leave your message after the beep, I’ll definitely forget to listen to it. Byee.” 

The phone beeps.

“For heaven’s sake, Kook. Why must you start your stupid message with a greeting? Do you have any idea of the hope that I just lost? The betrayal I feel? How could you do this to me? I am aching in loneliness and you betray me so cruelly. I won’t forgive you. Change your voice message”, Taehyung rants and ends the call with a huff of air and an aggressive slam of his finger.

Taehyung feels guilty instantly. This was terribly mean. He calls Jungkook again, hoping that he will pick up, even if he knows that he won’t.

“Hey. You’ve reached my voicemail which means I’m currently not available. Leave your message after the beep, I’ll definitely forget to listen to it. Byee.” 

“Please forgive me. I didn’t mean my last voice message. It is just that…I am so lonely and I need you with me again. I should have never stayed here. Oh Kookie, I miss you. Okay, uhm, goodbye.” 

He ends the call again and stuffs his phone into his pocket. Well, this didn’t help. 

Now Taehyung experiences major jealousy on top of all the loneliness as well. He wants to taste wine and dance at raves and be at boxing camps. He wants to be included! 

Taehyung spends the next hours sulking in the sitting room. Jimin doesn’t call back, you don’t call back and Jungkook doesn’t call back either. Taehyung is going to die alone. This is what is going to happen. He is going to die from loneliness and the grief of being so left out.

Taehyung goes to sleep without any kind of phone calls coming in, but wakes up to sorry messages from you and Jimin.

Jimin sent his message at around four twenty five in the morning.

-          Jimin ♡: I’m so sorry, I just came home from the rave. I tried to call, but you are sleeping already. I hope you didn’t wait for it for too long.

-          Taehyung: I didn’t. It’s okay. I hope you aren’t too hungover. ♡

He opens your chat next. They arrived last night at around two.

-          Sweetest ♡: TETE I'M SORRY IFGORIT TI CALL

-          Sweetest ♡: IM DRUNJ AND YONGUS IS TELLING EE TO STOP TEXT7NG 

-          Sweetest ♡: but I wanma text yiu and say sorry 

-          Sweetest ♡: TTET I.M SORRY I LOVE YOU SO MICH PLEAWE DONT BE SAD YOU VAN COME HEER IF YOI WNAT TO 

-          Sweetest ♡: 😭😭😭

Taehyung smiles. You are cute. 

-          Taehyung: It seems that the wine tasting was successful 🤣 just sleep it off, darling. I understand ♡

He locks his phone again and rolls out of bed. The loneliness still remains, but at least he feels assured that his friends tried to call once they actually found the time. Everyone except Jungkook. He is still giving Taehyung the silent treatment. 

Insecurity joins the loneliness and jealousy. What if he is doing it on purpose? What if Jungkook doesn’t want to talk to him? 

Taehyung spends most of his morning hours analysing every text message they exchanged and looking at every picture he sent. He analyses everything. Every word, every letter and every face he can spot in the pictures. He can see a lot of faces which are exactly Jungkook’s type. And even more body types which are exactly his taste. 

What if he is moving on with people from the boxing camp? What if he is forgetting about him because he has people way more his type by his side? 

Taehyung spends the early afternoon hours feeling sorry for himself and crying in insecurity. Yes, the abandoned estate is definitely not doing him well.

Taehyung is in his wing, feeling sad and lonely, when he hears the front door open. He abandons his painting and uses his powers to get to the entrance. 

He doesn’t even bother to use the stairs, flinging himself over the railing so he can jump down this way. He lands quietly, but still startles whoever walked through the front door.

“Geez! You scared me, oh my god!”

“Jungkook! Jungkook, you are home!?” 

“Hey there, oof”, Jungkook says and grunts, stumbling back as he gets Taehyung throwing himself around his neck. His back knocks into the door from the force of Taehyung’s jump, making Jungkook both laugh and grunt. 

“You’re home! You’re home!”

Taehyung wraps his legs around his waist, using his strength to keep himself glued to Jungkook. The latter drops his bags and slides his hands under Taehyung’s butt to support him.

“Welcome home to me, I guess. Are you okay? Are you crying?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Baby, what’s the matter?” 

“Why did you ignore me? Did I do something?”

“I’m sorry Tae, fuck. I’ve been travelling since yesterday and didn’t have my phone turned on. Did you need something?”

“Yes. You”, Taehyung says and lifts his head.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, reaching up to wipe the tears away. His eyes are soft in adoration. He keeps one hand under Taehyung’s butt, using the back of his other hand to wipe his cheeks and on the side he can reach easier, he uses his thumb to dry his tears. Taehyung leans into the touches, sniffling with the biggest pout on his lips.

“God Tae, you old sap. I’m here now though.”

“Good”, Taehyung says and slams his lips down onto Jungkook’s.

“Mhm”, he lets out, accepting his fate with a fond chuckle. Taehyung isn’t going to break this kiss any time soon. That much is sure.

Jungkook collides with the wall, gasping loudly at the rough contact. Taehyung latches himself onto him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He whimpers and mewls, sucking on Jungkook’s skin as if his life depended on it. 

“Tae, fuck”, Jungkook purrs, rolling his eyes back sensually and tilting his head to the side. Taehyung’s fangs grace his skin sometimes, his long fingers dig deep into his flesh. His boyfriend is desperate and he lets Jungkook feel it.

“Fuck baby, that feels so good, fuck”, Jungkook purrs, groping Taehyung’s hips to get him closer. He even lifts his knee just enough that Taehyung can hump it. 

He was correct. Taehyung didn’t break the kiss in a long time. Jungkook doesn’t know how long he spent carrying him as he kissed him in the entrance hall. He probably would still do it if he hadn’t set him down gently and made the mistake of breaking the kiss. 

“Can I at least take off my coat?” he asked, but Taehyung didn’t let him.

Taehyung ripped it off of him and then grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to drag him upstairs. Jungkook followed with laughter and attempted complaints to slow down, but Taehyung merely silenced him with deep kisses and needy groping. 

Jungkook doesn’t know how long it took them to get to Taehyung’s wing. The walk isn’t long normally, but Taehyung kept pressing him against whatever surface closest and then proceeded to kiss him forever. Truly, Jungkook didn’t even get to breathe properly, let alone speak words.

Taehyung lifts his puffy lips from Jungkook’s heavily marked neck. He groans as he does, grabbing his boyfriend by his clothes so he could drag him again. Jungkook lets it happen with a laugh, throwing his head back in joy.

“Fuck Tae, just let me come home. I was on a plane not long ago, I’m disoriented.”

“Come home with my help”, Taehyung answers him and throws him onto his atelier’s fur rug.

Jungkook falls, laughing loudly because the entire situation is hilariously cute to him. He loves being welcomed home this way. He really does. 

“Fuck Tae, you needy baby”, he laughs. His dark hair is a mess, Taehyung messes it up even more when he mounts his lap and then drags him into a sloppy kiss by his hair.

Jungkook purrs deeply, kissing him back happily. His strong hands come to grasp his boyfriend’s body, dimpling the softness of his thighs and marking his waist as his’.

By now, it is clear to him what this night will bring. Bodies reconnecting in the most carnal of ways. He doesn’t dislike this idea. On the contrary, the sweatpants he’s been wearing have become rather tight around his crotch and breathing is so difficult when all he can do is fight for air. He missed Taehyung. He really did.

Jungkook wasn’t supposed to come home for another week, but couldn’t take the distance anymore. With a yearning heart, he booked a plane ticket and decided to surprise Taehyung by coming home earlier than planned. The aching for his warm touch and lovely voice was just too grande. Jungkook had hoped that Taehyung would welcome him home passionately, smiling into the kiss now that it is finally his sweet reality.

Taehyung’s weight is atop his swollen cock, grinding and grinding and grinding against him in needy riding motions. The chuckles once present on Jungkook’s swollen lips get replaced by deep purrs of desperation.

“Fuck. Tae”, he murmurs between kisses, “I’m hard for you. Fuck. So hard.”

The kiss breaks through Taehyung’s will. Jungkook is left gasping and chasing his lips. Not for long however because then they are busy parting in shock as he watches Taehyung rip his own clothes from his body. Yes, truly and honestly rip. The fabric rips easily under his immense strength. Not even the leather belt stands a chance, getting thrown to the side.

“Damn baby…”

Once entirely naked and exposed, Taehyung grabs Jungkook’s shirt. His heavy, swollen cock slaps against his own stomach with each movement, but neither man cares right now. Taehyung because he needs to get Jungkook naked and the latter because he fears for his shirt’s life.

“Wait! Don’t!” Jungkook blurts out and sits up to take it off quickly, “don’t rip my clothes. I like them.”

“Hurry up, please”, Taehyung begs, leaking onto Jungkook’s lap because his cock is so, so lonely. He is kneeling for now, giving Jungkook space to move.

“Jesus fuck Tae, what’s gotten into you? I’ve never seen you that horny before” Jungkook mumbles, taking off his pants as well.

“I was so lonely. Oh Kook, I was so lonely.”

“I’m here now, baby.”

“Please don’t listen to the voice messages I left.”

Jungkook meets Taehyung’s eyes. He is smirking playfully while Taehyung seems embarrassed.

“I am serious.”

“You know that I really wanna do it now, don’t you?”

“No. They’re stupid”, Taehyung says and hooks his hands in Jungkook’s briefs.

Rip!

“Hey!” Jungkook gasps, watching with big eyes as Taehyung throws his destroyed briefs over his shoulders, “what the hell? I told you that I’ll do it, didn’t I? Huh? Where did you get that lube from? Tae wait, what are you doing?”

Taehyung scrambles onto Jungkook’s lap higher and pushes him down into the rug again. Jungkook moans, connecting with the floor in a low thump.

“Tae give me a min- holy fuck”, Jungkook gasps and arches his back, gripping Taehyung’s waist desperately. Taehyung is jerking his cock quickly, using lube to make it slip easier, “Tae…holy fuck ahmmm”, he purrs deeply, looking just a little dazed.

“I need you”, Taehyung chokes out and positions himself over Jungkook’s cock.

“Tae, you didn’t even stretch”, Jungkook gasps, sitting up in horror as he watches his terribly unprepared boyfriend lower his hips closer and closer to his cock. He grips his hips, tries to stop him but too late. His unstretched hole comes in contact with Jungkook girthy cockhead. The resistance even hurts Jungkook and he has the easier job of sinking in, “baby, stop that.”

“Be quiet”, Taehyung murmurs and stubbornly pushes down. He rim protests in stinging pain.

“Hey, you’ll hurt yourself, hey”, Jungkook tries to stop him. He really, really does, but Taehyung is stubborn and he is desperate for cock.

He tries harder. Jungkook’s thick tip breaches his hole. The resistance breaks with a snap and then Taehyung sinks down three inches within the blink of an eye.

“Ah”, he lets out, convulsing in obvious discomfort.

“Holy fuck, you’re so tight”, Jungkook croaks, gasping for air as his brows shoot up in surprise.

Taehyung sobs, pushing his hips down even if his hole begs him to stop.

“Hey stop it please Tae”, Jungkook speaks softly but with worry in his voice, “come on, get off. I’ll eat you out, finger you until you’re loose.”

“Shut up”, Taehyung spits, finally lifting his head and giving Jungkook view of his tear-stained face, “I don’t want to be stretched. I don’t care about the pain, I just want to be with you again. Stop telling me to get off of you. Do you not want me? Is that it?” he babbles and sobs.

“Tae, no”, Jungkook gasps, cradling his cheeks, “of course I want you. Hey, don’t cry, hey it’s okay”, he whispers and begins littering his face with worried kisses.

“Then stop saying that”, Taehyung gets out and whimpers.

Jungkook bottoms out. Taehyung’s walls are almost painfully tight around his cock, his rim squeezes so harshly around his base that it feels as if he was wearing a cockring.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t wanna make you cry. I just worry”, Jungkook whispers and wipes his tears, “doesn’t it hurt?”

“I don’t care. I want to be with you”, Taehyung says and drops his face into the crook of Jungkook’s neck. He hugs him, burying his left hand deep in his hair and gripping his upper arm with his right hand, “please I want to be with you, please.”

“You can, baby. I’m not going anywhere”, Jungkook assures him, hugging him gently as his hand dances up and down his back.

“Do you want me?”

“Of course I do. I want you so bad.”

“Then show me.”

“What?”

“Show me”, Taehyung insists louder, squeezing Jungkook against him, “show me please”, he adds and whimpers as he tries to move on Jungkook’s cock.

The younger vampire understands. He wants him to do the fucking. Jungkook pushes his legs apart for better support and rolls his hips up. His cock has a hard time shifting inside Taehyung. The pained moan Taehyung releases was expected by Jungkook.

“Don’t you want to take it slow? I can barely move”, Jungkook says.

Taehyung shakes his head, giving his hair an impatient tug.

“Fine. One more time. I’ll move now”, Jungkook says and rolls his hips up.

Taehyung moans painfully again, scraping his nails over Jungkook’s scalp.

“Again. Now”, Jungkook warns him and bucks his hips up.

It is difficult for him to listen to Taehyung’s pained noises. He pulls him closer, trying to ease the pain by spreading his buttocks. It eases some of the pressure around his shaft, he hopes that it eases some of the burn for Taehyung as well.

“Again. Now”, he says and fucks his cock into his tight hole.

Taehyung shudders, fleeing the thrust instinctively.

“Please say something. Are you okay?” Jungkook begs and slides his fingers to Taehyung’s hole to soothe it. He rubs his burning rim in circular motions, keeping his hips still for now.

“It feels so good.”

“No, it doesn’t. You’re fleeing.”

“Please, I’m begging you, please”, Taehyung begs and sobs against Jungkook’s neck, “please don’t stop.”

“Fuck”, Jungkook gets out, gripping Taehyung’s ass to spread it. He rolls his hips up, biting down on his lower lip because the squeeze is incredibly intense. Taehyung’s tight walls basically drag Jungkook’s skin over his own cockhead, giving him sensations normally only a tight handjob brings with it. He drops his hips, squeezing Taehyung’s buttocks before he thrusts up again. It drags and drags and drags. He drops again.

“Fuck, I think you need more lube.”

“No, it’s perfect. Please.”

“It feels like your ass is fucking jerking me off. It’s so tight.”

“Good”, Taehyung convulses in a grateful sob, pressing his hips back onto Jungkook’s cock, “I’m serving you. Owner gets jerked with my useless ass.”

Jungkook throbs inside Taehyung. He widens his eyes, staring at the room with held breath.

“Owner?”

“I’m your property.”

“Tae”, Jungkook croaks and buries his right hand in his hair, “holy fuck, what are you saying?”

“Please tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“That you’re my owner.”

“I am. I fucking own you. Holy fuck, Tae”, Jungkook gets out and growls deeply, gripping Taehyung’s waist to keep his hips still. He fucks up into him. The pressure is still there, the squeeze of his rim didn’t get less.

Taehyung moans painfully, arching his back as he begs to be fucked through it.

“Keep breathing. I own you and I want you to fucking breathe for me, property. Understood?”

“Yes”, Taehyung mewls, nodding his head vigorously. He is drifting away into a headspace he hasn’t been in for a long time. Jungkook should have never ever been gone for as long as he did, because Taehyung should have never left this headspace for as long as he had to.

“That’s it. I like when you behave. I’ll do it again. Breathe in.”

Taehyung obeys.

“And out.”

Taehyung obeys for a second and then Jungkook’s cock stretching his hole makes him sob instead.  

“In.”

Taehyung obeys. It doesn’t hurt when Jungkook pulls out. It feels good. Like something, which wasn’t supposed to be there, is finally getting removed. Of course that’s it. Jungkook’s cock is still an unwanted object for his hole. Of course it feels good when he pulls out and therefore removes it.

“Out.”

Taehyung obeys. The burn returns. Taehyung can barely exhale before his throat produces another pained whimper. He pushes back. He wants it to stop burning. He needs his body to understand that Jungkook isn’t unwanted, that his cock is familiar to his hole and that he is exactly where he is supposed to be. His heart knows, his brain as well, so why does his body refuse to acknowledge it?

“In.”

Taehyung obeys.

“Out.”

A second then it hurts and he whimpers.

“Why?” he sobs.

“What’s the matter?”

“Why doesn’t it get it? Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not foreign. Why doesn’t it get it?”

“Who?”

“My body”, Taehyung lifts his head to stare at Jungkook with widened, teary eyes, “why doesn’t it want to accept you back? I want to have you back so bad. Why is it making it so hard?”

Jungkook frowns.

“Don’t look at me this way. Please, I’m not crazy.”

“Hey. Stop that”, Jungkook says and lifts him off his lap. He gets on his knees, carrying Taehyung in his arms. He keeps his cock inside because he is aware that if he pulled out, Taehyung might have a mental breakdown. It is obvious in how desperately he clings to him instantly and how he tries to clench even if that makes it hurt even more.

“You’re not crazy. You’re just impatient”, Jungkook speaks to him softly and full of patience. He lies him down on his back, supporting his head until it is safely engulfed in the fur of his rug. He pulls out.

“No. Please”, Taehyung begs, trying to pull him back with his legs around his hips, but Jungkook shakes them off. He grabs for him next, “please. Please don’t do this, please.”

“It’s okay, just keep breathing”, Jungkook assures him and takes Taehyung’s legs to slide them off his hips. He struggles for a bit as Taehyung tries to use his strength against him, “come on”, is all Jungkook needs to say for Taehyung’s legs to fall off of him like limp, useless things. 

“That’s better”, Jungkook praises and positions himself over Taehyung. 

Taehyung looks up at him. Sniffly, teary eyed and pouty. His normally big hands are balled into tiny fists, resting on his chest this way. 

“Who knows what’s best for you?” Jungkook speaks in a soft voice, staring deep into his eyes.

“You”, Taehyung whispers.

“That’s right. And what does that mean for you?” 

“Owner controls me.”

“That too, but…”

“I, I have to let you do what needs to, to be done.”

“Good job”, Jungkook praises and rewards Taehyung with kisses to his overly sensitive neck. 

Taehyung moans shakily instantly, rolling his head to the side as far as it can go. Every kiss placed onto his skin feels better than the one before. Every kiss painted onto his body leaves him trembling for Jungkook. It feels so good to be adored.

Jungkook doesn’t stay on his neck for as long as Taehyung would have wanted him to, but he doesn’t get to complain because he makes up for it by kissing his way down to his nipples and taking them into his mouth. 

Taehyung opens his legs as far as he can. He arches his back, gasps for air and whimpers even louder. His cock is throbbing, his hole is clenching and his veins are filling with electricity. It feels so good. Jungkook feels so good.

And again, he doesn’t stay on his nipples for as long as Taehyung wanted him too. And again, Taehyung doesn’t mind because he makes up for it.

Jungkook straightens up, kneeling by Taehyung’s side, and wraps his arms around Taehyung’s right thigh. He lifts his lower body off the ground and twists it just enough that he has access to his hole. He moans as he buries his face between his ass, closing his eyes because there is no sweeter taste to him.

Taehyung wails up in pleasure, gripping the fur of the rug and twisting it desperately just as Jungkook twists his body to gain access to his hole. He soothes the burn with eager licks, drawing the first moan of honest pleasure from Taehyung’s lips.

Jungkook purrs, furrowing his brows in bliss. Taehyung tastes like sweet lube and hints of his own cock. He licks it off of him eagerly until only the taste of his hole remains. Addictive. His taste is a fucking drug to Jungkook. He growls and buries his face deeper until his nose is surrounded by his musk and sweet scent.

“Kook…”

“You taste so good, holy fuck”, Jungkook lulls and fucks his tongue deeper, grinding his nose against his ass this way. 

Taehyung whines and wiggles, trying to flee because it feels too good to handle. It triggers Jungkook’s hunting instincts, resulting in the Ripper to wrap his strong arms around Taehyung’s hips and keep them still this way. He growls into him, shoving his wet tongue into his hole in an almost punishing rhythm.

“Kook”, Taehyung wails into the rug, “please. Please Kook please.”

Jungkook answers him in growls and his tongue curling deep inside. His biceps is tensing, his fingers are bruising the soft parts of Taehyung’s waist. He can beg all he wants, Jungkook is going to show him how well he can prepare him.

He hates when Taehyung is impatient. It angers him. His boyfriend shouldn’t hurt himself just because he is too needy for his own sake. He should take it slow, stretch until his hole is shaped for Jungkook. His impatience is offensive to Jungkook. How dare he not take the best care of himself. How dare he neglect himself.

“It’s too much please, it’s too much”, Taehyung begs, grabbing bundles of the rug far above his head so he can drag himself away from Jungkook’s eager mouth.

Jungkook breaks away from him, hunting him with a deep growl of his name.

“Don’t flee”, he orders, grabbing Taehyung’s hips to drag him back.

Taehyung slides over the rug with a squeak and his trembling fingers losing grip on the rug.

“When I tell you that I wanna prepare you, you’re supposed to arch your back and let me do my fucking thing. Understood?”

“It feels too good, I can’t do this”, Taehyung mewls, fighting his boyfriend’s grip just so he can pull him back again. He loves this so much. To be so desired to be taken forcefully turns him on so much. This is exactly what he needed. He needed to be hunted and claimed.

“I don’t care. You’re gonna feel good. Now arch your back.”

Taehyung whimpers, getting to his knees and elbows to arch his back.

“That’s better. Such a good property”, Jungkook praises and buries his face back between Taehyung’s buttocks. He sucks and licks eagerly, feasting on his taste like a starved man.

“Kook please”, Taehyung chokes out, dropping his face on his own lower arm. He pulls his lips back in a mewl, furrowing his brows. He never should have gotten to his knees. It is difficult to keep the position when Jungkook makes his thighs shake so much.

It is moments like these which remind the two men how useless the passage of time is to them. The night ages, but they are still the same. Jungkook takes a lot of time feasting on his boyfriend’s sculpted ass. By the time he finally lifts his head again, Taehyung soaked the rug with his leaking cock and his legs barely want to support him.

“Holy fuck Tae”, Jungkook groans, “holy fuck, I need to bottle your taste so I can always have it. Holy fuck”, he moans and licks a thick stripe along Taehyung’s spine. He forces him onto the ground this way, using his body weight for it. It is an easy task to pin down Taehyung. He lets it happen willingly, tilting his head into unnatural angles just so Jungkook has access to his throat. Jungkook claims it with a guttural moan and his tongue leaving wet strips of ownership on his skin.

“Who do you belong to?” Jungkook rasps.

“You”, Taehyung whimpers.

Jungkook purrs, wrapping his stronger arm around Taehyung’s throat so he can take him into a headlock.

“Who owns you?”

“You.”

Jungkook drags Taehyung into a different position so he was spooning him. They are so close this way. Jungkook’s thick, swollen cock presses against Taehyung’s ass this way. Taehyung gasps for air in the tight headlock, drooling all over Jungkook’s arm.

“Who dictates your every step?”

“You”, Taehyung presses out and trembles.

“That’s right”, Jungkook closes his arm tighter around Taehyung, dragging his parted lips over his temple. He runs his other hand down his side, sliding it under his thigh, “lift your leg.”

Taehyung obeys happily, panting in excitement. Now it is finally time. He was patient and Jungkook will finally reward him with his cock. He lifts his bent leg as high as he can, arching his back so Jungkook has even better access to his needy hole.

“There we go. Such a good property”, Jungkook rasps and fills Taehyung’s hole.

With his finger. One of it. He is being purposefully cruel at this point. Taehyung could easily take three.

Taehyung huffs out air as much as he whimpers, pressing back into Jungkook’s hand in an attempt to get more.

Jungkook watches with a dirty grin on his lips, keeping his finger still so he can feel every desperate clench Taehyung’s hole is doing.

“Please”, Taehyung begs.

“Please what?”

“More. Please more.”

“But Tae. I need to prepare you.”

“Please Owner, please don’t do this to me, please”, Taehyung chokes out and grips Jungkook’s lower arm, “please, I need more please.”

“You’re adorable”, Jungkook rasps and buries two more fingers in Taehyung’s hole.

He can literally feel the relief in Taehyung’s sigh, watch it in the way his entire body relaxes and smell it in the thick droplets of pleasure seeping from his cock. He was so tense, but suddenly grows limp in Jungkook’s arms. As if Jungkook’s fingers pressed a button and shed his body of every burden ever.

His eyes roll back and close halfway, his mouth opens without ever closing. This is true bliss. This is how he looks when he finally experiences true bliss.

Jungkook feels a warm tug on his heart, his stomach flutters. He has the prettiest boyfriend. Look at him relaxing on his fingers. Look at him getting high on the feeling of them. Look at him being so perfect.

Jungkook leans down and kisses his cheek, keeping close afterwards. He begins moving inside him, fucking his fingers in and out slowly and curling them each time they press against his prostate.

“You’re so pretty”, Jungkook whispers.

“Kook”, Taehyung keens, spilling tears on his arm. He is pretty. He is desired, he is loved, he is wanted. His body grows so weak in relief that his leg drops and his hands slip from Jungkook’s lower arm.

“Hurts?” Jungkook asks, chasing him.

“More.”

Jungkook obeys, burying his pinkie inside him as well. His hole welcomes him greedily, swallowing his hand until he sits inside him to his knuckles. He throbs and convulses around him, burying his face in Jungkook’s arm. His moan is muffled like this, Jungkook feels it against his skin.

“Isn’t that so much better, hm?” Jungkook whispers deeply, “to let me prepare you and show you how slutty your hole can get? Mhm? Isn’t that so much better?”

“Yes”, Taehyung mewls, nodding his head vigorously. He pulls his lips back again, squeezing his eyes shut, “ah, ah, a-ah.”

“Keep moaning for me, that’s it. Such a good property. Fuck, I own the best boy”, Jungkook praises, twisting his hand deep inside Taehyung.

“Ohgnng”, Taehyung chokes out through gritted teeth, twisting a bundle of the fur rug. Jungkook watches it happen, just as he watches how much his fingers shook as he did it.

He repeats what he did before. Hand deep inside him. Twist it. Left and right, left and right, left and right. Shape his hole, stretch his rim, fill his walls. Twist, twist, twist.

Taehyung begins shaking so sweetly, drooling so much onto Jungkook’s arm that it is running down his sculpted paths by now.

Out again. Jungkook picks up the thick, wet pleasure Taehyung’s cock leaks and covers his hand with it. 

“How’s my boy doing, hm?”

“Good…”

“That’s good to hear. Such a good property, I love owning you so much. Now breathe for me.”

Taehyung obeys, feeling dizzy. This is the best and safest headspace he has ever been in. He is owned. Desired. Pretty. Wanted. Taken care of. He is so safe. So, so safe. 

Back again. Jungkook fills his boyfriend with his hand. No fingers left out. Hand slickened by Taehyung and body so close to him. Taehyung takes Jungkook’s fist as if he was born to do so, sobbing into his arm because nothing will ever prepare him for the fullness. There is no resistance, no pain. Just pleasure and the ecstatic knowledge that he is able to take an entire hand. His rim sits around Jungkook’s wrist, his walls pulsate around his hand.

“How’s that?”

“Good”, Taehyung whimpers, throbbing around Jungkook’s fist.

Jungkook curses under his breath, and drags his lips to Taehyung’s ear.

“You take a fist like no other, Tete”, he whispers raspily, twisting it inside him.

“You’re making me climax”, Taehyung mewls, convulsing around his fist.

“I am?”

He nods his head vigorously.

“Do you want it?”

He shakes his head vigorously.

“I figured. That’s my good property, you know your fucking place”, Jungkook praises and pulls his hand out.

Taehyung hole complains loudly, gaping around nothing.

“Oh god, it hurts”, Taehyung whines, twitching in the agony of getting edged.

“I know”, Jungkook says and sits up. He slides his arm from under Taehyung’s head and grabs the older vampire’s hips to lift them and fix his position. He turns his body so he was resting on his tummy, then places his hips back into the rug. He fixes the position of his bent leg, running his palm up the back of his thigh. He pushes his hips into the rug, forcing a shaky whimper to escape Taehyung because the movement grinds his cock against the fur. It sticks to his cock and feels rough. Taehyung opens his trembling fingers just so he can bury them deeper in the fur.

“There we go. You’re such a good property, letting me fix you like you’re my pretty doll.” 

Taehyung mewls, shaking as if Jungkook just fucked him deep and hard. He loves being a doll. He especially loves being Jungkook’s doll. He loves it so, so much.

Sometimes, when Jungkook makes him feel especially safe, he slips into a doll-like headspace and when that happens, Jungkook truly controls everything which happens to Taehyung. He carries him around, fixes his positions, plays with him, dresses him up and most importantly bundles him in cozy blankets once he is done. And Taehyung loves every second of it, feeling so so safe that sometimes he ends up crying happy tears in Jungkook’s arms.

Taehyung loves being Jungkook’s pretty doll. He loves it so, so much.

Jungkook’s hands leave his body. Taehyung lies limp just like Jungkook’s pretty doll is supposed to, waiting for him impatiently patient. The sound of something being twisted open meets Taehyung’s ear, the sound of something being placed aside follows. A slight wet sound, then something seems to spread the wetness. Silence.

Jungkook’s left hand touches his butt and spreads it apart. Cool wetness touches his rim. Pressure. A stretch. It is nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s fist.

Taehyung mewls, trying to make sense of what is happening. Jungkook just inserted something in his hole, he knows that much, but it doesn’t feel like his fist nor his cock. It is hard and has plastic rills all over it.

Something cold and wet begins filling him up.

“Wh-what?” Taehyung gets out, reaching behind himself until he can hold Jungkook’s wrist, “what are you doing to me? What are you putting inside?”

“Do you feel it?”

“Yes.”

“How does it feel?”

“Cold. Wet.”

“Guess”, Jungkook says and more of it begins filling up his insides.

It is liquid. Very obviously. Taehyung tries to think even if his brain is getting scrambled. Liquid. Jungkook clearly opened something. Whatever is inside his ass feels hard like plastic and has the exact rills on its shaft like a bottle does. The lube bottle. Jungkook is feeding him lube straight from the bottle.

“Lube”, Taehyung gets out and whimpers, arching his back into the sensation.

“That’s right. I’m giving you a good, thick lube enema. Mhm? I know you like that, property.”

Taehyung sobs, convulsing desperately. Jungkook chuckles almost tauntingly.

“I knew you would like that”, he says and stops applying pressure on the bottle, “you know what to do?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

Jungkook pulls out the bottle. Taehyung tries to clench instantly, but fails. There is just way too much lube inside and Jungkook’s fist stretched him too wide. The lube seeps out of him in big, gooey globs, covering his ass on its way down.

“Sorry”, he squeaks, reaching behind himself in a desperate attempt to scoop it up and put it back inside. It doesn’t work. All it does is get his fingers messy.

“You’re cute”, Jungkook chuckles and swats his hands away, “you won’t get anywhere like this. Let me”, he says and presses Taehyung’s hips snug against the floor.

He pushes his cock between his ass, feeding his dripping hole his cock in one good thrust.

“Ah!” Taehyung screams up, throwing his head back. 

“There we go, that’s gonna keep it inside”, Jungkook lulls and chases the sensation with sensual rolls of his hips.

Taehyung curls his toes, arches his back, clenches his hole, shakes. He can’t control any of the reactions washing over his body. He finally gets fucked by Jungkook. He needed his cock like nothing else. It doesn’t hurt anymore, it simply feels wonderful. The stretch is nice. The girth and impressive length fills him up so well and because Jungkook put so much fucking lube up his ass, there is not even a hint of friction. 

“How’s that, my doll?” Jungkook asks him, running his big hands along Taehyung’s soft sides until he has his waist between his fingers.

“Faster, please”, Taehyung squeaks out.

“Like this?” Jungkook asks as his hips pick up speed skilfully. He keeps Taehyung pinned down with both hands on his lower back and his huge thighs caging in Taehyung’s. 

“Kook, Koo-ook, oh god Kook!” Taehyung moans, throwing his head back as best as possible.

“That’s so much better. Fuck, I love fucking your ass when it’s like that”, Jungkook growls, drilling his huge cock up his boyfriend’s noisy hole, “don’t give me any of that unprepared, tight shit. Fuck, I love it most when you’re stretched. So fucking good, you’re such a good fucking property. Fuck.” 

“Owner, ah Owner please.”

“Please what? Use your words.” 

“Harder. Please!”

“You drive me fucking insane”, Jungkook growls and puts strength into his fast movements. Skin slaps against skin, lube spreads everywhere.

Taehyung wails, convulsing under him in pure ecstasy. He is getting drilled like a fucking animal. His hole keeps squirting lube, his ass keeps jiggling with each impact. He can feel Jungkook’s hip bones bruise his ass. It will begin hurting soon. Good. That means he is getting fucked hard and fast. 

“Harder please! Harder!”

“Urgh Tae”, Jungkook spits and bares his fangs in an angry scowl. He doesn’t hold back anymore. He isn’t human and neither is Taehyung. There is no fragility needing to be considered, no weak bones or long healing times. Jungkook doesn’t need to hold back and it’s fucking glorious. 

The marble under his knees cracks and breaks, forcing him to sink just a little deeper into Taehyung because of the sudden dent in the floor. Jungkook growls, breaking marble again as his toes try to grip. 

“Fuck Tae. Fuck”, he spits, chasing the ecstasy of being so fucking free. No restraints. No fucking restraints. Freedom. Hot, wet freedom lies right between Taehyung’s legs and he is the only one getting it. He is getting all of it. Fucking all of it.

Taehyung wails, clawing at the rug because somehow he still hadn’t expected Jungkook to go so berserk on him. He wanted it, knew that Jungkook could do it and yet he still wasn’t ready. It feels so good that Taehyung swears he is in a constant state of orgasmic bliss. That would explain why his prostate burns so much and why his stomach keeps convulsing. 

“You’re making my fucking cock grow. Holy fuck, Tae”, Jungkook growls and Taehyung swears he might rip his hole apart.

He reaches behind himself, clawing at Jungkook’s wrists until the younger vampire takes his hands and pins them above his head. He growls above him like a predator, drilling his fully grown vampire cock into his hole. Not an inch he leaves out. Not an inch misses out on Taehyung’s wet, burning insides. 

“Stay still”, Jungkook commands in a demonic voice. He breathes in through gritted teeth, making a deep grumbling sound as he does. He breathes out, the grumbling is louder, bordering that of a growl. 

“Big.” 

“Yeah, I’m big. So fucking big”, Jungkook hisses and squeezes Taehyung’s wrists together, “take me. Take all of me. You’re my property. Holy fuck, I fucking own you. You’re mine. Mine. Mine. Mine”, his voice loses more and more of its humanity the longer he chants. 

Taehyung is crying at this point, drooling into the rug as his nose becomes a snotty mess. It is obvious by now, he can’t stop fucking cumming. Jungkook’s cock is so big. His hips are punishing. His grip possessive and his words territorial. It makes Taehyung cum without a break in between.

“Mine. You’re mine. Mine, urgh Tae”, Jungkook growls and gives in. He buries his fangs deep in Taehyung’s neck, forcing the older vampire to scream up in a mixture of shock, pleasure and discomfort. 

Taehyung tries to flee, writhe away, get the fangs out his neck. Jungkook doesn’t let him shake him off. He slams his hand onto the back of Taehyung’s head and applies pressure. The fangs in his neck grow, his cock does as well. Jungkook is losing his humanity. Even the last little bit of it. He is an animal, a monster. This is his truest form.

Jungkook growls and huffs out air like an angry bull, sucking on Taehyung’s neck as if his life depended on it.

Sudden acidic burning fills Taehyung’s veins. It truly hurts, forcing him to writhe under Jungkook helplessly. And the most fucked up part of it? Taehyung has to fucking squirt because of it. He reaches behind himself and twists Jungkook’s hair to pull him tighter to his neck while his own grown cock squirts into the rug.

Jungkook growls and moans, shooting his acid deep into Taehyung’s neck just as his huge cock shoots far up his ass. His. Taehyung is his. He makes sure that his body remembers in more ways than one. Pumped full of his cum and his acid, Taehyung is truly and perfectly marked as Jungkook’s possession. 

Jungkook tenses up soon, dropping onto Taehyung as paralysation sets in. His huge cock is still throbbing inside him, his mouth is open and leaking saliva diluted blood all over Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung is destined to lie still and let Jungkook regain his control. He is heavy and stiff on top of him, his hot breath smells like blood and acid. Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut, crying softly. He is owned. He loves being owned. This just healed him. To be a prey so desired, to be devoured and brought to his limits. Taehyung feels so beautiful knowing that he could get Jungkook to lose control in such ways. He was desirable to him. He was good. Taehyung feels so beautiful and loved. So, so loved.

Jungkook begins moving soon, huffing out growled breaths as he pushes himself up onto his hands. He is still dripping blood from his mouth, his face is contorted into his truest form. Taehyung stays still, not daring to move and check up on him. Jungkook sounds scary and Taehyung has been reduced to a trembling, scared little thing. A happy thing, but scared nonetheless.

Jungkook pulls out of Taehyung’s ass and grips the lube bottle. He flips it to the bottle side and pushes it into Taehyung’s gaped asshole. This is calculated. This had a reason. Taehyung shouldn’t close up yet, he shouldn’t lose Jungkook’s cum. The bottle was the only thing big enough to fill his gape.

Taehyung whimpers, writhing helplessly. 

“Don’t move. If I come back and see you having spilled my cum, I’m gonna hurt you till you’re crying. Got it?” Jungkook commands in a demonic voice and gives the bottle a soft push.

“Yes”, Taehyung squeaks.

“Good. Pray to my fucking name until I’m back”, Jungkook orders and stands up to leave Taehyung fucked and used up on the rug. 

He is stumbling and panting, using furniture and walls to support himself. Humanity has to return to him. Jungkook is fighting the voices on his way outside.

Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut and does what Jungkook asked him to do. He starts praying. Praying to Jungkook’s name as if his life depended on it. The bottle in his ass is cold and therefore hurts. Jungkook shoved it so far up his ass that it is impossible to push it out. Not that he wants to push it out. It isn’t Jungkook’s cock though. Taehyung begins trembling as he begins missing him.

As if he sensed his boyfriend’s longing, Jungkook returns. He kneels down behind Taehyung and touches his lower back. 

“You kept it inside. Good job”, he praises and pulls the bottle outside. 

Taehyung hole makes a slutty sound and stays gaping. Part of his insides is showing itself to Jungkook. The latter traces it with his fingers, forcing whimpers out of Taehyung.

“I love when you gape”, Jungkook says and touches his thick rim with the tip of a buttplug. 

Taehyung tenses up, arching into the toy. He knows what it is. He can’t wait for it. 

Jungkook stops teasing and pushes. His gaped hole takes the toy easily, closing snug around it. It is a huge toy, but it is the only toy which could possibly fit right now. Jungkook shifts it from side to side until he is happy with its placement, then dances his hand to Taehyung’s inner thigh.

“There we go, now you’ll stay my property until I set you free”, he says and flips Taehyung with a push to his thigh. 

Taehyung rolls over happily, looking up at Jungkook with glassy, devoted eyes. The latter continues caressing his inner thighs studying his cum covered cock and messy stomach. His vampiric face looks back at Taehyung. Black blood covers his chin, neck and parts of his chest.

“This wasn’t the last time I pump into you”, Jungkook says, “got it? The night’s still young and the estate’s empty for another three days. You’re gonna leak my cum for a week once I’m done with you.” 

Taehyung whimpers, nodding his head obediently. 

“Good that you understand.”

Taehyung lowers his eyes.

“You’re a bully.” 

“You get off on it.” 

Taehyung glances at him. Jungkook’s hard expression softens. Humanity returns to his eyes. 

“How are you doing?” he asks him, massaging his waist gently. 

“Ruined. I feel used up.”

“You are. I used you up”, Jungkook says and climbs over Taehyung. He takes the latter’s hands and pins them above his head, looking down at him with warm eyes, “but I own you, so I can do whatever I want with you.” 

“You fed from me.” 

“You always say that I can.” 

“You can”, Taehyung blinks tears away, “I feel your acid fight my healing.” 

“Is it unbearable? I’ll suck it outta you.”

“It’s not. It’s proof.” 

“Proof?”

“Proof that I’m yours. That I’m your possession”, he spills tears, “that you want me.” 

“Tae”, Jungkook returns. The loving, soft-spoken Jungkook returns. He cradles Taehyung’s cheeks and wipes his tears. He kisses his trembling lips and kisses his closed lids until his lips taste nothing but salty tears, “Tae, of course I want you. Tae, come on. Of course I do.”

“I know”, Taehyung whispers and smiles, “I just need to know for myself. I was so scared that you would forget me.”

“You were?”

Their eyes meet, racing between each other as Jungkook keeps caressing his cheeks and Taehyung holds his waist. He is sitting on Taehyung’s stomach, putting weight on it. 

Taehyung nods his head, “I’ve analysed every photograph you sent me. I’ve memorized every face which wasn’t yours. They all look like your type.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “you are my type. Our poly family is my type. Not them. They’re just people who like the same sport as me. You were never in danger.” 

“I wasn’t?” 

“Of course not. Why do you think I came here a week earlier than planned?”

“Because you wanted your bed back?”

“No silly, because I missed you”, Jungkook says, pinching his cheek softly.

“Really?” Taehyung breathes.

“Of course. God Tae, I could never forget you my silly boy”, Jungkook says and begins peppering his face with kisses.

“Really?”

“Of course, my baby. Have you looked at yourself?” 

Taehyung lowers his eyes shyly, “I don’t know.”

Jungkook sits up and clicks his tongue in distaste, looking down at Taehyung with a disapproving gleam in his eyes, “good, now I know where I’m fucking you next.”

Taehyung gawks up at him with parted lips and bated breath.

“In front of the mirror so I can show you all the things I love about you.” 

“Oh”, Taehyung lets out and giggles. 

Jungkook scrunches his nose, chuckling fondly. He pinches Taehyung’s cheek, leaning down to kiss it afterwards.

“You’re cute. I love you, my teddybear.” 

“I love you too, my snugglebunny.” 

The two vampires exchange a giddy look before Jungkook can’t take it anymore. He climbs off of Taehyung for the sole reason of picking him up bridal style. 

“Where are we going?” Taehyung gasps, pressing himself closer instinctively.

“In front of the mirror. We’re continuing. I promise to be gentle this time around.”

“Already?” 

“Got a problem with that?” 

“No”, Taehyung giggles and leans his head onto Jungkook’s shoulder, “no, I don’t.”  

[mediacircuspod]

Obsessed with this scene and will be forever; A very long meta.

Your ‘exactly’ and my ‘exactly’ are different ‘exactly’s’

The Scene.

Crowley’s exactly means “We need to be safe and together and away from danger. Let me keep you safe.”

Aziraphale’s exactly means “We need to help because it’s the right thing to do, and we fix things when we’re together.”

Note though, that this is the only time they clarify with each other, and they don’t actually say what they mean, they say what they want to do.

“Let’s drop him off and leave him.” Vs. “Let’s take him in and help him.” 

The dissection of this also poses the question, Why does Aziraphale think helping Gabriel is the right thing to do?

And the answer is; Crowley gives him the courage to do what Aziraphale thinks is the right thing and not what heaven decrees is good.

And we can come to this conclusion because Aziraphale for the first time ever, immediately and without hesitation, goes against heaven’s will, without having to be convinced or going through a cycle of indecision or guilt. This is… A. Big. Deal.

Season One. 

Heaven’s good requires Armageddon to be complete, and under-way. And what does Aziraphale first say about it? “It’s all going to be rather lovely.” “I am not interested[in stopping Armageddon with you].” 

Aziraphale loves the earth in this scene. He loves the people on it. He loves all the creatures great and small. He loves Crowley, too. And he still refuses. He needs Crowley to convince him, and even then he still thinks heaven will see sense once he fixes everything. He still believes that right, and good, and holy are the same thing. Even if sometimes he doesn’t agree with it. 

Now, let’s go through some history. Between the two of them, for sure, but mainly Aziraphale’s. 

An act of defiance; The giving away of a flaming sword. The guilt and worry Aziraphale feels after giving Adam and Eve a chance at survival is not something he gets over quickly. He worries that it was the wrong thing even though it felt right. And the problem isn’t the system that would make doing a good deed the wrong thing, the problem is him. The problem is Aziraphale.

Compliance; The flood. The crucifixion. “God’s a bit tetchy” he says before Mesopotamia is decimated. Aziraphale is clearly uncomfortable with the will of heaven here, but he does not disobey. He does what he is told because the will of God is good and right and correct. He does this same thing with the same reasoning during the Crucifixion of Jesus in 33 AD. Crowley gives us context with a few lines, “Your lot put him up there.” “I showed him all the Kingdoms of the world.” We see a demon who still doesn’t understand why good is so cruel, and knowledge is so evil. And we see an angel that refuses to be conflicted despite his own inherent morality. Because Aziraphale understands why Crowley has questions, he has them too by now. However, Aziraphale has something Crowley didn’t; he has the knowledge of what good intentions and well-meaning questions get an angel.

Doing bad in order to do good. Let’s talk about the Job mini-sode, because let’s be completely real; I’ll never be done talking about the Job mini-sode. 

Aziraphale starts this episode thwarting evil. Something he is not conflicted about. You have to thwart evil when you’re good. That’s the whole dance at this point. Crowley stops the dance though, he presents a permit. A permit from a higher authority. Meaning that Crowley, the demon, is performing the will of not only Hell, but also of Heaven. A theme that IS THE WHOLE POINT OF SEASON 1. For all their want of a war, heaven and hell want the exact same thing. 

Crowley even states, “The real ‘Big One’ will be between ‘all of them’ and ‘all of us’”. At the end of Season 1 Episode 6.

Aziraphale is horrified by this “permit”. And he goes to check on the validity in heaven, and well. He finds out that it’s real. He doesn’t go higher after that, because he knows you don’t question. He knows he can’t ask why? So he goes to Crowley. If Crowley doesn’t do the evil thing, then Aziraphale doesn’t have to break the rules to thwart it. And well, even though Crowley is a demon, Aziraphale doesn’t actually see him do demonic things all that much. Aziraphale still thinks that Crowley acts like an angel. He’s even starting to think that Crowley is on the side of good. Good being heaven. Crowley denies this, but Aziraphale doesn’t listen. Crowley says, “Kill the blameless Children of Blameless Job” and Aziraphale isn’t going to stop him. The demon has a permit after all. But then something miraculous happens. 

A crow, bleats.

Aziraphale looks at a demon defying heaven, defying hell, and doing good. He doesn’t know it yet, but this is his first glimpse of their side. At this point, Aziraphale still thinks Crowley is a little bit on heavens side, because the demon is a little bit good. But then Crowley keeps saving the Children. Crowley stands before angels and he lies to save the children. He does something bad to do something good. And then.

So does Aziraphale. 

An angel lies to save children. And then that angel thinks that decision is his undoing. He readies himself for a fall that never comes. Because Crowley is going to keep his secret. This is where Aziraphale once again starts acting with his own moral code. It’s important to remember something important though. Aziraphale still thinks he’s the one who’s wrong. Not heaven. The birth of “their side” coincides with the saving of Job’s children. But there’s a problem. 

It doesn’t mean the same thing to each of them. To Crowley it means and end to his loneliness. To Aziraphale it means the beginning of his millennia long struggle of reckoning good with right. Their “exactly’s” don’t match, and they don’t clarify with one another.

The Book and the Bandstand; Aziraphale doesn’t tell Crowley. He doesn’t say, “Let’s go save the world, I found the anti-christ” He says, “Why would I know his shoe-size?” And Crowley doesn’t suspect a thing. Ouch. They disagree on how to continue. Crowley wants to cut their losses and run away. He wants to do this because he thinks they’ve already lost. And Aziraphale doesn’t give him a reason to hold on because despite everything, Aziraphale wants to be good in the heavenly way. He wants to give heaven a chance to do good, too. A higher authority will surely agree with him. And now, he has the courage to ask. Only after he is turned down by heaven does he make his own decision. He steps into ‘their side’ safely, because Crowley had built it that way. 

And he saves the world. With Crowley, and the Anti-Christ, and a series of human beings. 

Aziraphale retreats to the safety that Crowley has built for them and that he himself has built as well, despite constantly looking over this shoulder. And he finds comfort there. It is the entire reason he finds himself comfortable making his own choices in Season 2, regarding what is good. It’s why he helps Gabriel, and it’s how he gets Crowley to do it too. 

You might even say that Aziraphale embraces ‘their side’ more than ever in Season 2. He includes Crowley in all of his plans, excitedly tells him information he finds, calls the bookshop, the Bentley, and their existence, ours. Oppose this directly with Crowley who, in the name of keeping Aziraphale safe, actually just keeps him in the dark(The threat of extreme sanctions, Gabriel’s trial, etc.)

Exactly vs Exactly; AND STILL THE ENDING MAKES SENSE. I have a whole meta HERE about the reason Aziraphale made the decision he did, but I want to talk about it a little bit more. Because it’s the same problem. Their “exactly’s” are different, and neither of them asks the other to explain why. 

In this particular case of the ending scene of Season 2, in place of the phrase “exactly” they use the word “together”. 

Aziraphale wants Crowley with him in heaven, because they fix things when they’re together. And Aziraphale has faith they they can fix heaven. “We can be together” is how he presents it to Crowley. Crowley rightly sees this as naive, and he’s upset that Aziraphale thinks he wants to be something he’s not anymore.

He finds it hurtful that Aziraphale wants him to change. 

“We can go off together” Is what Crowley counters. He says all of this is awful, please let us go off somewhere the danger isn’t. Let me keep you safe. Aziraphale doesn’t want to run away. He wants to save the world again. He wants to save it with Crowley. He wants them both to be good, too.

IT’S THE SAME ARGUMENT. 

Only Crowley doesn’t let Aziraphale win this time. Aziraphale isn’t right this time. And Crowley isn’t wrong. (I mean I don't think he's right either, they need to find a compromise that isn't the toxicity of heaven and isn't the loneliness of running away.) This time he says, “It’s finally too much, you’re finally asking me to do too much.” Crowley for the first time ever, when asked to make the decision between the two of them, chooses himself. Neither of them explain themselves, and neither of them asks the other to do it either. Because asking questions has always been dangerous for both of them. Anyway, this season makes my brain buzz and I love the ending so much.