#later on he becomes a bit more of a wet noodle

[plush-rabbit]

part two to the unnamed chapter from like a few days ago!! honestly, im suprised people liked it. like i didnt think it would get good stuff. like i dindt think it was bad, but im like the hype has died down anyways!! we meet the man, the myth, the devil himself!!

Word Count: 4.8K

You can hardly keep your eyes open. Even with the soft yellow glow of the light, it's far too bright for you. Shutting your eyes only brings you a bit of solace. You're somewhere soft, something light and feathery pulled over you, and you shift your shoulder blades to pull your wings closer to your body, and instead you sob, the pain sharp and unforgiving to your frail body.

Did you fall? No, maybe you slept on them wrong. You don’t have to think about stretching your wings, it was always second nature, as easy as blinking and as easy as moving your arm. You’d stretch your wings, and you’d ask Adam to help you preen your wings. You shift, and something feels empty, it feels light, lighter than air. You can’t remember your wings feeling so light, not unless you were flying. You’d hate to have messed up your wings over something as frivolous as falling.

Memories rush in, fragmented, only the beginning pieces clear enough for you to remember. Your eyes snap, and you’re met with harsh lighting. You see nothing but wood and stone, and a home that is not yours, and you groan into something soft under you. Moving your arm is painful, it feels bent and sore, and you reach for feathers, and find nothing. Your cries bury themselves into something plush, something that soaks your tears and drool and leaves only a patch behind. A hand pats softly against your arm, and you flinch. 

A voice shushes out to calm you. “It's okay. You're safe. I'm not here to hurt you,” they whisper. “Just relax, and try not to move. You still haven't recovered.”

Even if they speak softly to you, it's far too loud. The words echo in your head, and attempting to think about where you are and who you're with is making you nauseous. Or perhaps it's the sickly honeyed scent that is thick in the air. 

“‘S too sweet,” you slur, clawing at fabric beneath you. You regret speaking, the movement making your already sore jaw ache further, the joints pushing into your splitting skull. Your head pulses and your mouth is cotton filled, thick and impossible to speak. “Where?” You hope that someone will give you an answer to where you are. Or at least what you're on.

“Oh, thank you,” a voice chirps. 

“Don't think it was a compliment Bee,” a thick accent says in a hushed voice.

“Well I'm taking it as one,” the voice huffs.

“You're at my home,” the gentle voice is back. “You're in a spare bed. Just try to relax.” You can’t relax with all the sound, and when you try to tell him that, you only murmur, slurring letters together. “I know, I know.” He doesn’t, but you can’t correct him. “Just try not to move so much.” It's quiet again, a silence that stretches and fills the void with nothingness. The smell and the shuffling of bodies is the only indication that you aren’t alone, that you haven’t been left yet. 

“Luci, mate, you sure it's a good idea to have an angel laying around?” You hear the chime of bells, and you want everything to stop. 

“They aren't an angel,” a voice retorts. A hand places itself over your bicep, and squeezes you softly.

“Yeah, but like, it’s still a bit dangerous, isn’t it?” The voice is much more feminine, and you can hear a buzz when they speak, a low hum that doesn’t stop. “Having one of them just on your bed.”

“A spare bed,” the voice corrects. The bed dips beside you, your fingers tap against the mattress. “It was dangerous when we were first here,” snapping at the other, before sighing. “It’s been a long time since another angel has fallen.” 

“Lucifer, honey,” this voice is smoother than the others, and you wish they would all stop talking. “What’s the plan here?” Someone makes a noise of confusion. “They aren’t an angel anymore, if anything, they’re a walking target. We don’t even know if they’re an Exorcist.”

“Heaven hasn’t cast out an Angel in so long,” the voice says softly, a finger tracing shapes onto your arm. “And I highly doubt they’re an Exorcist. I can almost- I’m positive that they aren’t.”

An Exorcist. That’s what they think. Lute flashes in your mind, and Adam follows, weapons ready, and thinking hurts far too much. You groan, nuzzling into the pillow, trying to tune out the sounds. You need them to stop talking.

A hand pats at your arm, and soon you feel fingers tangle themselves into your hair. Fingertips ghost alongside the tender part of your scalp. The voice hushes you, lulling you back into a state of unconsciousness. “I’m sorry,” they whisper, “we must be too loud for you.”

“Lucifer, I know you’re still-” the person pauses- “upset-” they sound unsure of the word they’re using- “about the last few years, but you can’t take on a pity project.”

Lucifer. They keep saying- oh shit. You let out a whimper. You don’t know if you’re thankful for being found by him, or if it’s a curse to be found by him. He shushes you once more, massaging gently at your scalp. 

“Yeah-” the buzzing is louder this time- “you know, if you were lonely, you could have just said something. I got some cute little hounds that need loving homes, ya know? And uh, they’re cute-” they hiss that word and you furrow your brows- “and practically housebroken.”

“Luci, it’s not like they’re worth much. I mean look at ‘em. I don’t even think I remember seein’ them back up when we were there, so they gotta be new or somethin’.”

The hands still, fingertips pressing into the tenderness of your head. You let out a low sound, and give a soft nudge of your head for the person- Lucifer you presume, to let go. He apologizes, soothing over the spot where he’s touched. “It’s not- They aren’t a pity project. This isn’t that. Don’t you remember how bad it was. How painful it was to fall. At least we had each other. We were stronger than most angels.” You wish they would all stop talking. Especially when they refer to falling, you can't stand to hear it. “They have no one. This is- I just want them to feel safe.” His words come to a slow stand, and if it didn’t hurt to cry, you’d sob at the reminder of your punishment. “Their wings were ripped from them, they weren’t even allowed to heal.”

“Well it ain’t like Heaven is known for their leniency.”

“Listen, Lucifer, we’re just saying that you’ve been having a lot of big emotions recently, and maybe nursing someone back to health isn’t what you need right now.” Lucifer- at least you’re assuming- makes a noise in protest at what the other voice is stating. “What’s the long-term plan, hm? You fix them and then what? Do they live here? Do you kick them out? Take them over to Charlie?”

The room is still, the buzzing has quieted down to a hum, and you feel sleep grasp onto you once more. “You should all go.” The group protests immediately, voices overlapping one another, the buzzing higher, and scent of sweets and leather grows and irritates you further. Your head pounds, banging against your skull. You shift, pulling at the wounds, and a cry muffles itself into your pillow. “It’s okay, you’re okay” the voice says in a hushed voice, palms pressed flat against you, cooling your feverish body. “I’ll give you something right now to help the pain.” He clears his throat away from you. “I have to think about things. I’ll make sure to give you updates as they come along, but for now, I’ve taken up enough of your time.” He pauses. “You should return back to your rings.”

The buzzing quiets down, and footsteps shuffle out. It's a mess of steps, puttering and pattering along the floor, and the sound is [welcomed] by silence. A door clicks shut, and you hear no lock. 

Thinking if you're a prisoner or not is too much of a task right now. The strength of the saccharine scent has left with its owner, and instead now gently wafts in the air. Somewhere on the other side of the room, you hear a sigh.

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have been having that conversation with you in the room.” You let out a short huff in response. “It won’t happen again, okay? We must have been loud for you, huh?” With all the strength that you can muster, you give a short nod. “Let me go get you something for the pain, okay?” You feel a soft hand over your bicep, giving you a soft squeeze. The hand lingers with fingertips that kiss over your skin in feather light touches as they pull away. 

You drift between consciousness and unconsciousness, unable to fully sleep, but you don’t register anything that happens. All that you’re aware of is that someone is back in the room with you. He’s beside you, something plastic touching against your lips and the thick taste of medicine is bitter on your tongue. 

“I’m going to light some incense, okay?” You’d rather he give you water or anything else to wash the taste off. “You just let me know if it’s too much.” The scent is much calmer compared to the sickly sweet one from earlier. “I had Belphegor send me some sleeping aids. I believe it’s the only reason you’re able to get some actual rest.” Your lips mouth the words “thank you”. Something soft and warm covers you, and you feel yourself sink further into the mattress. “I don’t know how much of your power was stripped, or how much you even had to begin with. Mammon was right about that, you are a newer angel, you might not even be able to do much other than heal.” His voice is growing harder to understand, it’s fading into the back, and sleep pulls you further in. “However, I wouldn’t ask you to even attempt to heal yourself- not in this state,” he whispers.

“Taste bad,” is all that you can mutter. Your head pounds, and it feels like it’s swelling. Each word that you speak is laid thick and slurred together. Every syllable only brings you sickness and an ache in your skull.

“I know,” he sighs. “The medicine here doesn’t taste good, but there’s not much that I can do about it.” A cloth dabs at your mouth. “Hell is supposed to be a punishment after all,” he says with a humorless laugh. “I’m- I’m sure that Heaven’s medicine is still divine as ever,” they mumble with a heavy weight on the words. 

“Like nectar,” you speak softly, the memory of it faint on your tongue. 

Something brushes along your face, and you feel the pull of sleep. “Yeah,” he breathes out, “like nectar.”

-

Knocking on the door disrupts your sleep. Something gargles sounds on the other side of the door. In your mind, it’s too faint to make anything out. You hear the squeak of the door open, and through bleary eyes, you make out two tall figures. Again, they speak to you, and you nod back to sleep.

You feel the latex of gloves touch your body, knuckles the brush against the nape of your neck and hands that grab your arms, ready to still you as you tense. “We’re just changing your bandages.” You shake your head. “It’ll be quick, just stay still.” You’d rather deal with an infection than with how the doctors treat you. You recall a voice making an argument that you’re not welcomed here, that you're an angel in a land of sin. 

“No, no,” you mutter, tears staining your face and wetting the pillow. You feel the cold breeze on your back, whispering over your wounds. The stickiness of the gauze peels away from you, and you can smell the stench of it- metallic, rich and earthy. Something so sweet, and it disgusts you and the doctors. 

Their hands grip tighter onto you, holding you down and you yelp. “Stay still.” You recall many moons ago how Lute told you something similar. How her words were laced with sorrow and false bravado. These doctors, these demons, spit the words at you, and hold you down. 

Your hands claw at the mattress, your screams echoing against the wall, bouncing and ringing in your ears. Light blinds you immediately as your eyes flash open, and your head is head, pushed down onto the mattress, as curses are spit onto you. You’re in Hell. Your teeth find themselves tearing into the pillow, drool pooling into a puddle and tears slipping down.

“Just,” they grunt, and press firmly down on your back, “stay still.” You gasp for breath, kicking and digging your knees into the bed. “Please,” they beg, and you fall, your body limp and heavy on the bed. 

As quick as it started, it ends just as quick. You’re left sobbing, gasping for breath, and despite the pain, and tearing open the wound, you hug yourself, your nails scratching against the cloth. They’ve placed it far too tight for you. 

-

Only a few weeks pass when you’re finally cognitive. When your head isn’t splitting at every noise, and you can move somewhat without risking any pain or even your fear of opening the wounds back open. You stay as still as possible, and try not to do any sudden movement that would stretch your back. Lucifer has attempted to reassure you that you’re fine now, that combined with Hell’s magic and his own blessing, you should be fit to move around. Of course, you will be sore, that can only go away with time. 

“You’ll be left with scars. That can’t be helped,” he told you, his eyes focused on how your hands fist the blanket, “but you’ll be okay.” He gives you a tender smile, and you cling to it in the night.

Once you were in a proper headspace, you knew you shouldn’t have been surprised to know that it was him taking care of you. From what you can faintly recall in one of the many conversations that he’s had in the room as you recovered, he knows what it’s like to be cast out. 

However, you are surprised at how caring and patient he is. That despite you being able to do most things on your own without stumbling, he is still beside you, keeping you company and comforting you when he has to change the bandages. He hardly lets anyone else do it after you complained about doctors accidentally wrapping the bandages too tight. His gentleness is a mask for his pity, and he can never meet your eyes without looking away. 

-

You’re laid on your stomach, and your only entertainment is wondering what could be inside the bedside drawers. While moving does not cause as much discomfort as it once did, you don’t risk stretching. You sit straight, and you look at the wall, and dare not to stretch your arms. Pillows have been fluffed and placed to create a soft barrier between you and the headboard of the bed. Knuckles rap against the door in a rhythm, and you stare at the wall in front of you. You wait for a second, and with a breath, you allow for the person to enter. 

“Hello,” Lucifer calls. “I’ve brought you some fruit. I’m sure that you must have been feeling peckish.” You give no reply. “I uh- I also brought some books.” The bowl of fruit is balanced above the small stack of books. “I was thinking that I’ll get you a television or something soon. But maybe some literature would be good for you.” He rests the tower on the dresser, and grabs the bowl between his hands. 

You should reply to him. You should tell him thank you- not just for the books and the bowl of fruit, but for housing you, for caring for you. But you cannot. Not when he’s a constant reminder of where you are. 

“I was wondering if there was any type of genre that you might like.” He sounds hopeful, wanting to continue a conversation with the husk in front of him. “It would be no trouble to get them to you.” 

His smile is stretched thin, and it looks painful. All of this is painful. Your eyes flitter over to the fruit bowl, and you wonder how you’d feed yourself when stretching your arms still pulls at the scars. 

“Would you like some?” He leans towards you, and you have the mental image of being some hurt bird being nursed back to health. “I had some demons go over to Earth and get some for you. I thought you’d prefer this over the food that we have here. Since you aren’t accustomed to Hell’s food, yet.” You stay silent, and after a moment he sighs. His heels click against the floor, and the bowl is placed on your lap. “You know,” he starts, “it would help if you talked. I know what you’re going through, and you can’t- you shouldn’t isolate yourself.” When you refuse to answer, he sighs. “Well, if you need something, just let me know.”

Despite not wanting to be here, of not having any need to want to continue your existence, you have grown a strong dislike of being alone in this room. You have no idea if he’s isolating for your own safety, or for some other nefarious reason. He clasps the door knob around his hand, and twists it. You wet your lips, and you need someone to talk to. 

“Lucifer?” You croak out, and you surprise yourself with your voice. You hadn’t heard it in so long, past the screaming and the tears. He turns to you, taking a step closer, and his hand returns the door knob to its closed position. “Can you stay?” You feel sick looking at the fruit. “Please?”

With a gentle smile, he nods his head. “Of course.” He grabs a chain from the corner of the room and carries it to sit beside you. It’s a deep wooden color, intricate designs carved into the legs of the chair, and a deep red cushion that is stitched into the seat and the back. 

The silence between the two of you is broken by the crunch of the fruit. You pierce a grape with the silver tines of the fork, and your body aches with the movement to bring it up to your mouth. The sweet juice does nothing to aide in your brooding and the awkward silence. 

He’s right, and you know that. You have to try. He’s the only contact that you have. Adam always hated how you’d hide your emotions, how you rather shut the world off, and at least that hasn’t changed since your falling. You need to talk to him. You can see the attempt that Lucifer has been making in order to keep you happy, to make your time here just a bit more bearable. You suck in your lower lip, and let your tongue brush over where your teeth have grazed.

“I was promised a trial,” you start. His eyes are on you, and you see him fiddle with his tie. “They promised it would have been fair.” You frown, and shake your head, an ache heavy in your chest. “I was so hopeful that it would have been.” The fruit is bitter on your tongue and you force yourself to swallow it.

After a moment’s silence, he speaks. “Who would have been the judge?”

The apple is pierced between your teeth, the skin ripping from the flesh of the apple. It was cute with care, no hint of the core tarnishing the fruit, ripe and perfect, only to be mauled by your teeth. “Father.” You swallow the fruit. “Or perhaps one of the Virtues.” Oranges are peeled, torn apart from the other slices, the piths of white removed. “I was worried that I would have fallen, even before I was given my verdict. My-” you look at Lucifer, and you remember who he has stolen- “I feared that I would have fallen, because I didn't matter. No one questions Heaven’s beliefs, not since-” you glance at him, and he turns his head- “I was sure I would have met the same fate.” The sweetness of the strawberries make your jaw tingle and ache. “And I did.”

“I’m sorry.” You hold the fork tightly, the silver pressing into the flesh of your palms. “The fear you had must have been,” he pauses, “intense.”

There is no one better who understands, other than Lucifer himself. You nod, and let the fork ding against the glass of the bowl. “I was good. I did what was needed of me, I didn’t dare speak out of turn.” You think of how Adam would run his mouth, how every other word would be a curse, would be of anything lewd. “Perhaps I wasn’t as good as I thought I was. Not if a question were enough to have me expelled from Heaven.” 

A gloved hand reaches, and falls just before your thigh. A gold band hugs at his finger, and you’re surprised to have yet seen his wife. Feeling your stare, he turns his hand, and lets the other fingers hide the symbol of matrimony. 

“Sometimes, that’s all it takes,” he says quietly, his tone soft, and wistful. “But, if it makes you feel any better, Hell has some redeeming qualities. It’s not all pain and suffering.” You look at him, and he gives you a smile. “We have an amusement park. There’s a uh-” he scratches the back of his neck, his gaze pointed elsewhere and checks flushing- “ride modeled after me.”

The corners of your lips turn, and you narrow your eyes at him. “After you?” You ask, an elfish tinge laced into your words.

“Shaped like my head.” A finger makes a circle in front of his face.

You scoff out a laugh, and the sound surprises you. You attempt to hide the smile, but when the corners still turn upwards, you look at your lap. “You are the Avatar of Pride after all,” you tell him, the lilt faint on your words.

“It’s actually very impressive,” he points out. “A whole ride dedicated to my likeness.”

“The line for it must be awful.” The juice of the fruit is thin on your tongue. “Heaven has zoos. There’s an area where you get to feed the birds out of the palm of your hand.” You push the fork upwards with the knuckle of your index. “They hardly ever peck your palm, but when they do, we call them kisses from one of Father’s creations.”

He snorts, and shakes his head. His smile is soft, and there's a lingering sadness to it before it falls. “Down in the Wrath ring, there are livestock shows where you’ll find horse bucking and catching the flamed greased pig.” You give him a look, and he smiles. “It’s not as nice as the zoo, I’m sure, but it’s just as entertaining.” He leans back on his chair. “Sometimes I would take my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” You knew of his wife, but you hadn’t realized that they had a child. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

He winces, and nods sheepishly. “Charlie,” he tells you her name. “I think you’d like her- she’s peppy.” He gives you a tense smile, and looks away. “We don’t talk as much as we used to.”

You frown. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

He shakes his head, and lets out a sigh. He sits straighter, and pulls his shoulders back. “How are the bandages?” You roll your ankles, unsure what to make of the sudden shift in conversation. “They’re not too tight are they?” It’s not your place to pry, and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable when he’s the one caring for you.

“No, Lucifer,” you answer. “They’re fine. Thank you.”

He nods, and you can tell he’s grown uncomfortable now. You don’t blame him. “Of course. I wanted to make sure that you were comfortable. As much as possible.” 

A silence befalls between the two of you. You bite into the fruit, and force yourself to swallow it. The nectar is sweet and makes your jaw ache. Beside you, Lucifer clears his throat, and you turn to him.He looks away, his eyes trained on the walls.

“If I may ask, I- Well you see, you know my name-” he looks at you again, and you tap your nails against the glass- “and I don’t know yours.” Your eyes widen, and you try to think back on when you might have whispered your name to him, but you can’t recall it. “I just- I was thinking since you’re here, and I’ve changed your bandages, I thought, that I should be calling you by your name.”

“My name?” You whisper, and you feel silly for keeping it close to you. For just a fraction of a second, for some far away thought to be held, that you didn’t want to share the last thing that ties you to Heaven.

“If only that’s okay. If not, we can come up with a nickname or something.”

You shake your head. You’ve kept your name to yourself, and you wonder if your pain-induced haze, if he’s ever asked you for it. You stretch your lips, and wet your tongue. “Did you ever ask for it,” you hold the words on your tongue, and they are heavy like wine, “when I was in and out?”

“Yes,” he confesses. “You wouldn’t answer.”

A name given by Heaven; whispered to you gently in the arms of Father, as sunlight shined down upon you and warmth surrounded you in your creation. It’s silly, and childish to cling to it, to hold onto it like a child holds onto their blanket, but it’s all that you have left. Everything else was stripped from you, taken and tossed aside, and you wonder if your name even holds any significance back home. 

You turn to Lucifer, and your name is heavy on your tongue, bitter like wine, and it’s your name, fitting you like a glove that will fit no other. 

Lucifer repeats your name, whispering it under his breath, tasting it between his canines and tongue, and you watch him. Chills run down your spine, and the feeling is not unpleasant. He catches your eyes, and his cheeks flush, the red spots darkening, under your gaze. He calls your name once more, louder and clearer, want held between the vowels, as if to savor your name, to savor what you’ve given to him. 

You nod, your chest aflame, as if you’ve done something scandalous. You can’t trust your voice, not when he's looking at you. Your knuckles feel as if it’s on pins, tingling and having you scratch against the bowl. 

He glances at your lap. “Are you done?” 

“Yes,” you breathe out rather quickly. 

He reaches for the bowl, grabbing it by the rim and stands from his chair. You watch in silence as he pushes the chair back, letting it block one of the drawers from the nightstand. The bowl clinks against the mahogany of the dresser, and he grabs the books, flush against his chest. 

“I hadn’t meant to leave the books so far from you,” he says, placing them on the nightstand. “They’ll be closer within your reach.” You nod, and peek over, reading the title of the first book. “I’ll be back in a few hours, if you need anything, feel free to call out. I’ll make sure to hear it.”

He walks away, his heels clicking against the floor, and you don’t want to be alone anymore. “Lucifer,” you call out, fisting the blankets in your hand. He turns around, pressing the bowl against his body, his hand wrapped tight around the doorknob, already opening it and stepping into the rest of his domain. You swallow nothing, and try not to think of anything other than gratitude.  “Thank you for everything,” you tell him, sending him a thinned smile. 

“Of course,” he calls your name in a sweet tone. “Whatever you need, just let me know.”

The door closes shut, and you let out a breath. Your hands fist at your shirt, grasping and you bite the inner corners of your lips, feeling the soft flesh of it be pierced by your teeth. It’s been far too long since you’ve had a gentle hand, since you’ve had someone be gentle with you. A hand reaches out and scratches along your bicep, pulling the skin and leaving soft arches across. 

You hadn’t realized how much you would miss Adam.

[flowersandbigteeth]

Coffee for your orc mate

Orc (Rork) x Female Reader

General Plot: You work at a coffee shop and meet an orc you grow to like. He likes you too. This ended up being a darker series...just fyi

Word Count: 1kish

Masterpost

W: stalking, kidnapping, sfw yandere fluff, future parts have sfw non con, so be warned

“Good morning Rork,” you chirped, giving your most regular and largest customer his usual latte with a little bit of cinnamon sprinkled on top. His big tusks sparkled in the morning light, freshly brushed and his hair was still wet, having been finger combed off of his forehead. 

“How are the stocks?” you asked. Rork, the orc, was a day trader and came into the coffee shop every day at 8 am to work. 

“The Nasdaq composite index is down thirty percent,” he said and you giggled. 

“I have no idea what that means.” 

He turned a darker green and looked away, scratching his neck.  

“Oh…uh…It’s not good,” he explained. “Bummer,” you said sympathetically. 

Rork looked like he was going to say something else, but another customer brushed past him and engaged you, eager for her fix. 

He marched to his usual table, the one with the best view of you while you worked the counter. He thought you looked so cute in your little apron and hat and adored watching you skip back and forth filling orders. The coffee at this place was pretty mediocre, but he came every day for eight hours religiously. 

He worked, yes, but kicking stocks around and analyzing graphs for patterns didn’t require lazer focus, so he spent most of the day daydreaming about his life with you. He fantasized about the things you would do together, the memories you would make, what you looked like without your clothes. His least favorite part of the day was when you left around lunch, since you worked the morning shift. 

“Nasdaq composite index,” he grumbled to himself, “of course she doesn’t know what that is, you idiot.” 

Every day he tried to engage you in conversation, but he didn’t usually get past a few pleasantries, though he’d had a couple of nice conversations with you when it was slow. That’s how you knew his name, that he was a day trader, and that he liked to work out at the gym after he left the coffee shop. He cherished those conversations, replaying what you said over and over in his mind. 

He was handsome, with a wide jaw and a ruggedness only orcs could pull off. You’d developed a bit of a crush on him since he’d started showing up at the shop. You were way too shy to ever do anything about it, but you enjoyed the short interactions you had every day. It had become a comforting routine. You even found yourself worried about him when he was late or had to go out of town. 

When your shift was over, you packed up your things and headed out casting a final glance at Rork before you left only to find his golden eyes meeting yours. You shot him an awkward smile, which he returned and you quickly turned your head and pulled your baseball cap further down on your head to hide your blush. 

Because you were looking away, you didn’t see Rork gathering up his laptop and following you down the street. He’d started to do this more and more. The first time it was just out of curiosity. He wondered what kind of place you could afford on your cafe salary and followed you home. He’d figured it was harmless, he’d see your place, if you had roommates, and move on. But then he’d done it the next day and the next day. He couldn’t stop himself, staying later and skipping his usual gym time to watch you through your window. 

As he creeped around the shoddy cinderblock hovel you lived in, he realized how remarkable you really were. Every day you went to work and smiled for all these people, through their thinly veiled insults and impatience and then returned home to this. A broken stove your landlord wouldn’t fix. An air conditioner barely clinging to a window that smelled like mildew and a mattress on the floor where you ate ramen noodles cooked on a hotplate. You deserved so much better. He could give you so much better. You didn’t have to live like this. 

That’s when Rork started forming a plan. He was going to make it all better for his darling. It took a few weeks to get the preparations together. He had to find a new house, a cabin in the middle of nowhere, purchased in cash. Untraceable back to him in case the police connected you two through the cafe. 

He bought restraints and drugs to keep you compliant through the hardest part. He knew you would be afraid at first, but once you saw how much better your life was with him you wouldn’t need them anymore. 

Then he bought enough food so that he could disappear for a couple of weeks until the search for you died down, if there even was a search. He’d researched you, you had no family that he could find…a few friends but none close enough to start a campaign to find you or anything like that. You were the perfect victim…eh…darling. 

You woke one night to a large form wearing a ski mask looming over you. Your lips parted to scream, but his heavy hand clamped over your mouth. 

“Shh, darling,” a familiar voice cooed in your ear. You were too frightened to place it and you just whimpered. 

“It’s all going to be okay,” he assured you as he gagged you and tied your hands and ankles. Then he picked you up very gently and under the cover of night swiftly carried you to a vehicle, putting you in the trunk. 

“I’m sorry to do this darling,” the familiar voice said, “but we can’t have anyone seeing you.” 

The lid of the trunk slammed shut, leaving you in darkness and tears leaked from your eyes. 

What was happening? Why would someone kidnap you? You weren’t anyone important! You wracked your brain trying to place the voice, but you were too frightened to think clearly and you just panted into your gag, your thoughts scattered. What was going to happen to you? Were you doing to die? Worse? 

Some time later, you had no idea how long, maybe hours, you felt the car pull to a stop and shut off. You cowered as far to the back of the trunk as you could when the lid opened. The huge form reached down and scooped you up, jerking your gag from between your lips. 

He lifted you into the eerie light and you gasped. 

“Rork?” 

He smiled at you. 

“Welcome home darling.” 

He spun around. 

“I’m going to carry you across the threshold just like a bride,” he mused as he carried you inside the cabin in front of you. 

“Rork? What are you doing?!” you squealed, thrashing in his arms, “why am I here?!”  

“Shhh, shhh,” he said softly, “I know it’s confusing now, but you’ll see how good this is. You’re going to be very happy here. I’m going to take good care of you.” 

“W-what do you mean?” you stammered. 

He looked down at you, his gold eyes warm. 

“I’m going to make you my mate,” he said, “I love you (Y/N).” 

“N-no, n-no you don’t” you said, “this is not love, Rork, you have to take me back! I won't tell anyone about this I promise. We can just pretend it never happened!” 

He frowned and squeezed you tighter to his chest. 

“You don’t understand now,” he said, “but you will. I’m going to teach you."

[murdermitties]

Gon give some boon giver info cuz I've been thinking about it again

These are copied straight from my notes under the cut

The Journey was Fire saying fuck the Stars and trying to reconnect with the Sky's.

He went the the other leaders and told them his plan, after a bit they agreed, and during the meeting it was agreed that each clan send one or two cats to join Fire.

Young warriors only, as they wanted someone unbiased to create a connection between the clans.

Fire agreed to lead these chosen cats up the mountain to connect with the Sky's again— the Sky's had been shunned and neglected by the Stars for renouncing their support and belief in them, and so for many generations, the Sky's were lost to isolation and never ventured out of their territory on the other clans' side of the mountain.

The cats chosen for the Journey were Feather and Storm from the River's, Storm would not let his sister go alone and Feather was chosen for her views on the Stars being a very vocal opponent to them, making her feel for the Sky's abandonment.

Tawny from Shadow's, Black had his eyes set on her as his successor and wanted her to have a vaster set of skill and knowledge.

The Wind's sent their Field Healer's apprentice Crow, a more close minded but kind at heart young tom, the leader hoped this would open the kits mind some.

Fire took along his daughter Squirrel, both to teach her some responsibility and to work as a messenger if needed— her balance and speed unmatched by anyone else in the Thunder's.

Sol later is sent to the Sky's when it's clear he can't fit in with the Shadow's, the Sky's don't turn him away for his inability to hunt or fight. He is instead given the role of Mediator and Lore keeper, roles of which he thrives in, making big spectacles and speeches for his clan to teach and entertain them.

Hawk takes on a mixed story between Sol and Tiger, his father, and strives to rule the Shadow's but building loyal warriors from other clans with the grand promise of immortality as Boon Givers.

He ropes in many cats that fear joining the Stars or left to wonder about till they're forgotten.

Hawk worms his way into his sister's heart, under the guise of wanting to know her better, be convinces Moth too making his bluff more believable.

Tawny welcomes her siblings into her life and even offers them a place in her clan should they ever want it, no questions asked. Hawk uses this offer, by saying to Moth and Leopard that he'd like to be in a clan where his memory of his mother isn't tainted by her disappearance. Moth and Leopard feel bad but understands his choices and wishes him happiness in the Shadow's.

Tawny welcomes him, happy to have a sibling back after having drifted from her littermate Bramble.

Bramble later becomes one of Hawk's snakeskins because Bramble fears meeting their father again and fears the Stars will punish him for Tiger's deeds.

The realities of the world

There's the living, the Stars, the Givers and the Drifters

The Stars exist above them in an alternate realm of existence, with the Drifters beneath them in a mirrored empty world.

The Gifters are just left of them, on the same plane of existence but just out of sight.

The Stars can enter dreams or the real world in weak places and physically interact with cats.

The Drifters cannot see or interact with the Stars, Living or Givers— only see and talk the living in weak spots. Otherwise they're alone among each other with the ability to catch glimpse of the Stars.

The Givers can see shadows of the living but can only see other Givers or their acolytes, their acolytes are only if the acolytes are doing an act that pays tribute to the Boon Giver or if the acolytes speak to their Giver for guidance.

Thunder gives the boon of strength in Thunder's only Shadow gives the boon of stealth Wind gives speed And River gives stamina Sky gives the Sky's wisdom, he gives it to them all for free cuz he's a wet noodle

Grey gives another life to those he deems worthy or to his willing acolytes. This means a leader having this boon gas 2 lives, no more.

Thunder's Clan:

- leader have highest rank followed by deputy and healer and then elders

- they hold meetings between the high ranks to make decisions

- a kit isn't named till they're 4 moons when they start hunting lesson just outside camp

- kits are usually referred by physical traits by their families and clan (ie Greystripe would be simply Stripe and then named Boulder at 4 moons)

- cats can change their names 3 times in their life after their 4 moon name (no more, they had a problem in the past with someone renaming themselves twice a day)

- very good climbers as they live in a lush forest with huge trees

- names are usually plant or nature based

Shadow's Clan:

- the leader wears a crown of a plant of sorts

- the clan cats wear a bit of their current leaders plant on them

- if they don't support their new leader they wear the plant of the previous leader

- leaders stay hidden unless important or battles

- this means the gathering groups are very small with the healer acting as the representatives

- leaders successor is chosen early and trained from a young age

- very very dense pine forest

- most of the cats are day blind, so they have big pupils 24/7

- none of them have blue eyes

River's Clan:

- their funeral practices are frowned upon

- they leave the body to decay for 4 days by their river downstream, guided at all times before they're buried by the banks

- all of them are counter shaded

- very graceful but also smaller than the rest of the clans

- name's usually fish, fowl or water based

- swampy, marshy and generally waterlogged areas

- healers are more respected than leaders and leaders are chosen by the clan in a vote

Wind's Clan:

- all of them have some white on them

- two kinds of healers: field and home

- they move their camp every so often

- hunt for raptors when possible

- very strong and slender build, second smallest clan cats

- life very openly with few bushes and trees scattered around

- new leader is chosen via battles (non lethal)

Sky's Clan:

- all of them have some kind of blue in their eyes

- very reclusive but inclusive

- stick to their mountains

- seem to be very mellow and wise by nature, even kits

- only a leader no deputy

- they have mediators and lore keepers however

- cave and cave systems, with very minimal amounts of plant life

[wellntruly]

M*A*S*H Season 2….it’s top tier for me.

I couldn’t leave well enough alone, strayed off my list, and now come back to you with a new & improved Season 2 Viewguide: Deluxe Edition. I took away two, added four. One was a swap with the bonus eps—it’s going main! Then I added mmm another two more to the bonus list. LISTEN...

Probably it will all start to make sense if you see how long my notes are.

M*A*S*H Season 2 Notes At Last This Time We Took Them!

2x01 ‘Divided We Stand’

“Together, Pierce and McIntyre make a remarkable pair--” and it’s a reveal on them fully losing at strip poker

Radar just steering Klinger away muttering “You’ll get your dress dirty,” my moonbirds <3

A bit that never fails on me is someone being like oh none for me thanks, and then the remark that both glasses are for the other person. I think the earliest I’ve seen this is a Nick & Nora Charles movie in the ‘30s, maybe After The Thin Man? And it definitely happens on M*A*S*H multiple times, here and then I’m sure Margaret does it to Hawkeye in the Officer’s Club in a later season. EVERY TIME, I’m chuckling.

I have been in a state that I believe Hawkeye is in in this moment, where you’ve just been very tired for a long time and something in your emotional cortex is kinda dulled so you’re just sitting there watching someone, not warning them that something startling is about to happen to them, and then it does, and you laugh like the numbed gremlin you’ve become. For me it was tech rehearsal, for them it’s you know, a field hospital in a war. Anyway this is all why 1000% do I believe that this has happened to Hawkeye before, trying to wake Trapper and Trapper practically bruising his arm as he jolts awake with a shout.

I’ve decided to explain the fact that Alda bundles into a cap and scarf at the slightest provocation and Rogers does not with the Watsonian supposition that Trapper runs warm. Test it out, feels true right, feels good.

“I mean as screwy as this outfit is, better the devil you know, right?” and then this little wiggle shrug thing?? McLean???! I’m weeping, why is this whole showers scene hilarious. They keep catching the tail end of Wayne Rogers laughing when they cut to a different shot—that'd be me.

This half stammered exclamation “What the h-ell!?” as Radar runs up on him in the dark, god why is McLean Stevenson SO funny in this episode

“look normal”

They’re all WET in Henry's office right now, the shoulders of their jackets. Had it rained outside? Was there a cut outdoor scene?

“Frank showed up here cracked, with a Bible in one hand and a pair of shorts that said ‘Hold me’ in the other.” Wow orig booty shorts joke courtesy of B.F. Pierce

ACTUALLY. Another notch in the Timeloop Theory is Hawkeye constantly claiming Radar is his son with some member of the outfit (typically Trapper, here Margaret), and people like Henry hurriedly clarifying “He is not!”—yeah, Henry, how long do you think you’ve all been here

/

2x02 ‘5 O’Clock Charlie’

Have we addressed that Hawkeye’s name for Trapper when they’re being Brit-ish is ‘Reggie’? He says it twice.

Alda uses the same drawl of eagerness for “Oh do, Frank [give us a direct order]” that he does when Margaret threatens to kick him and he goes “Would you? With high heels?” Just for everyone's notes.

Hawk & Trap just sure know how to have fun, y’know! We all should have these kinds of relationships!

I like when Trapper goes all smart and take-charge. Very sexy of him.

TRULY this infantry drag routine added a year to my life when I first encountered it. Alan Alda is just so good at this. His extremely pantomime/vaudeville faces to Radar as they fail at all the commands, how very camp it all is, Trapper in MacArthur cosplay with his belt buckled over his untucked shirt and yet still hot, Frank…. an Iconic Scene.

Whomst is this random other guy just noodling on a guitar while Trapper and Hawkeye drink and muse on their problems

Ohhh okay he’s the current dentist. Hey, remember when there were dentists? That totally stops at the transition, huh!

I had definitely missed that they’ve got olives in their shower martini IV bottle. Also: what doesn’t this episode have.

Lololol Odessa Cleveland just hitting this “I’m ready to do the 4:30 feeding.” She really should have stayed around Kellye-style.

That every time Frank goes to pull out his gun it’s some new classic comedy prop they’ve swapped in is wonderful

Hawkeye & Trapper bundling Frank off to get a meal with them, “Why can’t I stay mad at you two lugs?” “We’ll work something out.” God…? <3

/

2x04 ‘For the Good of the Outfit’

Hmm maybe this episode fucks totally? I looooove them going off to take down the US Army, it's a crash to earth in the best way after 'Charlie'

“These fragments are as American as apple pie and Napalm.” Yell! Hell yeah, Trap.

“Radar, if you want me, I won’t be anywhere.” Lol Henry

Filing reports against the Army together, jumping off Lovers Leap together…

Radar translating to their nicknames to Henry under his breath WHAT is happening, I’m hootling

Love Hawkeye with his feet up on a desk, tired eyes and a phone to his ear, Trapper leaning with his collar up behind him, trying to make the American military take responsibility, for once

Writing to his dad in post-op while diegetic jazz plays! Atmosphere~

Whoa I do not remember a lot of this! Stopping Hawkeye’s mail out! Marking his movement “restricted”! This is getting really serious and scary!

Now he’s got his feet up yet his ankles crossed. Incredible advances in gay sitting.

Henry coming off entirely spineless this episode, c’monnn Blake

WOW General Clayton a) threatened to follow them forever, b) or threatened instead to just send them to an aid station to die on the line (implied)!!!!!!!!

“Go, Frank, go.” Trap I love you I love this. The 11th hour inadvertent save by Mssrs. Burns & Houlihan! Good ep good ep

“Take her, he’s mine :)” Hawkeye MY GOD.

/

2x05 ‘Dr. Pierce and Mr. Hyde’

What I like about my new S2 lineup is this run from

“They’re mad, quite mad all of them!” to

hahah ohh yeah no they are all mad, bless ‘em

to suddenly oh JESUS, but also spilling backwards to the two you’ve just watched because like, what else do you DO, you just pull out lawn chairs and a Trans-Atlantic accent and bet about whether Charlie will hit the ammunition dump, or you try to get the whole Army arraigned, it's basically toss a coin each day, heads I win tails you lose

then from there on to the secret third option we haven’t done yet: Maybe Hawkeye Goes Mad For Real

So here we gooooo! (This one is one of my favorite-favorites)

Trapper steering Hawkeye out of surgery is something that can be so—

Running tally: “20 hours of surgery,” “some day and before that it was some night”

Obsessed with all the mud business. The jeep coming by and spraying their legs, the guy tripping and falling in it as he runs. None of this is relevant to the plot or even commented on, it’s just texture.

“Morpheus, don’t just stand there, I’m yours.”

Trapper Watching Hawkeye In This Episode !

Hits on Henry, and that’s a sign. To Henry. I think. I think about a lot of things. Some of it is Henry picking up Hawkeye behaviors that worry him, for what else they are usually masking.

Running tally: Frank has been asleep three times while Hawkeye has gone on operating. Now that one I don’t know quite how to tabulate.

There is something oddly endearing about Hawkeye still trying to hit on the nurses when he’s nearly too tired to even lift his arms from where Radar is pushing him by in a wheelchair. I think it’s that there is so obviously no real intent behind it, no actual design to follow through with these offers. Just saying words recreationally, as the post goes.

Radar: “Now let me get you to bed here, make sure you’re comfortable.” Hawkeye: “That’s what they all say.” Hawk….you are so worrisome this episode though really!

Running tally: It’s now morning, so it’s been another night since our opening scene. He has definitely been awake for two nights, two days, 48 hours minimum.

Okay and now it’s night, so another 12 hours: 60

“You are turning into a 170 pound fruitcake.” Trapper…couple questions

Could Radar really not know the word Holocaust OR a popular Bing Crosby carol? This always distracts me for a moment.

Hawkeye haltingly singing ‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas’ into the quiet while crying, the dark night of the camp stretched around them, is something that can fuck me up <3

‘I’ll Be Home For Christmas’ was released in 1943, previous episode it was stated to be 1951, so 8 years ago. Hawkeye is presumably supposed to be in his early 30s (slightly younger than Alda himself), so we’re talking like early-/mid-20s he was lying on a rug listening to this song. And now he’s out of the med school that kept him from being drafted into WWII, and swept into another war after all.

“Dear Harry. Who’s responsible?” It's like my heart holds.

Running tally: It’s the next day. 72 hours.

HIS. HAUNTED. EYES. LOOKING UP AT THE SOUND OF CHOPPERS.

Coming back to some of M*A*S*H again no longer on a good amount of hydromorphone (hi) is, far from a more sober experience, actually at times creating a sensation not unlike my mind is shattering like a bag of frozen peas smacked against the counter

GOD Alda! Eyes!

“I like that,” he says with a little smile, draping a couple pieces of toilet paper on the latrine. “It sells.” My fucking heart.

Physical acting award to GARY BURGHOFF, panicking in place next to Trapper for a solid few seconds before running off after them

Trapper and Henry playing solitaire together while watching over Hawkeye sleeping fitfully under presumably their fave phenobarbital kills me so softly. Whole vibe something so warm and domestic and bleak and fucked up, and the lines all So much. “McIntyre, what makes him do these things?”

/

2x09 ‘Dear Dad…Three’

Hawkeye just watching Trapper & Frank play gin, grinning. The way sometimes they’re roommates like this..

“Go ahead, Cuddles, take a card.” CUDDLES, TRAPPER?

Hawkeye reciting ‘Gunga Din’ ostensibly to praise Ginger’s nursing prowess is so 1973

Not to be such a laugh track supporter, again, but this is another episode I actually think plays better WITH it, as the contrast from the goofy cards scene with the communal laughs to the strained quiet as they try to remove this grenade from a soldier’s body is just so compelling to me.

Leaving in Alan Alda casually fighting through a yawn is so so so so so good. This show is so lived in, makes it feel oddly real for all its artificial 25-minute sitcom trappings.

Henry’s video from home scene reeeaally got to me, on the hydromorphone. The way they just gradually get more rapt and quiet even as nothing is really happening in the video, it’s just normal, and that’s what’s getting to them.

Man the Indiana suburbs are wild

“I could see that all over again.” This is kinda why I love Trapper, honestly. Part of it.

Ginger acting like he’s passing is just THE FUNNIEST PART OF THIS, I laugh every time. “Good job, baby!” GINGER!

The staff meeting is simply perfect. A perfect scene of television comedy. No notes, just want to show it to everyone I know.

I mean it’s just so funny when the racist soldier literally says "You've given me a lot to think about," and still just real nice when he salutes Ginger, whatever! Sure it’s cheesy! We all know! But it’s 1970/1950! They were trying to do something!

/

2x10 ‘The Sniper’

Oho had forgot this is the one where Trapper has a mild head cold, in his goldenrod robe

“Is your cold better?” “Does a cold ever get bettah?” Trap, Icon

Alda looks notably skinny here. It’s his so shaped body… Like a plank, breadth seems normal but then you turn him sideways and it’s like oh, that is a thin flat man.

Trapper’s mocking laugh back to Frank while shoving his gun away—SO BOYFRIEND THIS EPISODE

Trapper just hollered to Hawkeye to take notes on his date. God. It really is that kind of queered heterosexuality where all their nurse pursuits are ultimately just about bonding with each other. The heterosexual in service to the homosocial.

“Eight cans, eight shots. That should be about right.” Larry Linville, I’m laughing my butt off.

I miss the Japanese ‘Happy Days Are Here Again’ cover every day of my life

Henry: “Well hell's bells, we’re a hospital! That’s against the Geneva Convention!” Radar: “I’m not for it either, sir.”

Full male rear nudity on American broadcast television, M*A*S*H truly did it all

Trapper’s already on the phone with someone when Hawkeye crawls into the office, GOD the competence. So boyfriend this episode, reprise.

Oh haven’t mentioned yet how very very cute it is that Henry’s office is papered with his daughter’s drawings she sends him. I like to imagine that it’s actually a bit of a gallery, that other members of the unit tack up some of their kid’s drawings too.

“Radar—” “Get a white flag, yes sir. [little head shake]” Gary is incredible this episode

“You could roll over first” is definitely the assault joke too far. I actually can kinda forgive the first "violations" one weirdly because of the follow-up on it later, but this one is like, Hawk come ON.

Frank just happily head-empty drawing circles on Margaret’s kneeeee :)

Oh my god Radar’s bit where he says his metabolism makes his body turn to liquid…I'm dyin'

The rhythm of this episode, this transition now to creeping outside in the dark to find Frank and THIS MUSIC. This show should have had more score honestly, I always enjoy what it brings so much.

And then bringing Frank with him to go investigate the mess tent! Yes! This script is perfectly structured, truly.

GARY SO FUNNY THIS EP OH MY GOD

God yeah and the ending, going up to treat the man who was shooting at them…too good, gotta include it.

/

2x12 ‘The Incubator’

They are so so wretched and hungover and soft, moving and speaking with each other so gently and pained, god I love these messes

Something so endearingly funny to me about Radar casually explaining “I was too sleepy” for why they didn’t use him as their virgin sacrifice last night. Like, everyone’s got a role to play in society! Sometimes you’re the camp’s temple virgin! ….Oh wow actually Radar is a vestal virgin. Being a vestal virgin is all about having arcane knowledge, so many mysterious little jobs, and an attitude. Radar, lean into this.

They actually WANT Frank to chastise them for their night, god, their relationship sometimes!!! And then they’re genuinely like aw, geee, recognizing he’s right they aren’t the bright eyed bushy tailed young doctors he met. “We’re gonna get our tails bushed again, you’ll see!”

Hawkeye is still using 'bushy tail' as a shorthand a scene later

This episode? Good. Good choice, past me. I like how it starts with the aftermath of goofy debauchery, then starts showing itself to be a mission episode, with the two off them getting more driven as they get more sober, while still holding ice packs to their foreheads to illicit our chuckles at their hungover patheticness.

“Henry the war’s been running for two years, surely the government must be showing a profit by now.” Haha damn.

Hawkeeeeyyye, he’s now taken to calling their new era simply “B.T.”, and Trapper just nods knowing what he means while Henry’s like what the hell?

Henry’s advice is to show up looking handsome. I love Henry's approach to things.

And now it becomes a Great River of Commerce story. It’s a good script!!!

Riveted by how Hawkeye’s glinting sarcasm is scanning as genuine delight in avarice to this guy, while Trapper’s straightforwardness gets him labeled as the one with “a nasty streak of morality.” Hawkeye, glancing a quick amused look at him: haha babe he thinks I’m Evil. Trapper: sighhh. u are.

The other thing that crushes in this episode is that after rocking up in full Class A uniforms at the start of their odyssey, they start gradually shedding pieces, giving them new looks for each successive stage of their quest. A reverse of the wives in Mad Max: Fury Road.

Pierce & McIntyre operating as a duo can power me for a day. They just seamlessly play to each other’s strengths. Let Hawkeye get up and get mouthy but clever, draw attention, land a few points that aren’t gonna fade so quickly, and then when they turn to Trapper, thinking he’s gonna be someone reasonable they can fall back on, he just literally stands up to join him at his shoulder like, floor back to him I think. This general, it dawning on him: “Are you two together?” Hawkeye, literally, with a loose little smile: “In all kinds of weather.”

God and now they’re just a double act, picking up each other’s sentences, laying out a wall of fact on data point on incriminating detail.

They are just so sexy this episode

‘The Incubator’: kind of a perfect little episode to be honest! A secret fave, of the kind I have. I have my actual, more flashy faves, and then I have my other ones where it’s like, you know which episode I really love?

/

2x13 ‘Deal Me Out’

Hawk & Trap hollering at Radar as he takes their towels, little nose in the air: “I’m kidding!” “He was kidding!” “You’re beautiful!” #VestalVirginBehavior

I wish Captain Sam Pak had been in 15 more episodes. The M*A*S*H judge-of-character equivalent of whether or not a dog likes you is whether or not someone moves right past Klinger wearing dresses to getting engaged with his style choices, and Sam does immediately.

It’s entertaining to me that Hawkeye loves poker while consistently having mediocre to poor luck. He’s always just casually fucking up and folding. He's not good at this! And doesn't seem to care! He's just in it for the card game gossip.

“Hi, Frank. What’s new up on the Mount?” SID-NEY.

Aw forgot this is the one with baby John Ritter, winging an enameled cup at Frank’s head

KLINGER’S SUNGLASSES. At night.

What I love about this episode is that for a story that is predominately about sitting around a table, it has SUCH movement, literally and figuratively. Everything is continuously escalating over in the hospital, AND at the game in the Swamp, as various characters are getting up from and returning to the game. Another contributor is that they just keep adding new people into the mix: we get Sidney and Sam right up front, then the old Korean man, John Ritter, FLAGG... Just a real sense that this is a whole camp of numerous people all engaged in their little things, which I always love when a show can pull off.

Wild for whenever Henry is compelled to remember he’s the commanding officer and pulls rank on someone, particularly Flagg. Except hey, Flagg’s a colonel too… Well he’s wearing captain’s bars here though, they probably hadn’t decided that yet.

“Thanks for seeing me, Sidney :)” 15 EPISODES AND A MOVIE

Was staring and staring at Sam’s insignia trying to figure out what on earth was going on here, and finally realized: he’s Korean Army. Shaking my damn head.

/

2x11’Carry On, Hawkeye’

Phantom PA guy’s voice cracking with illness—he too is susceptible to disease

Is this breathing through my ears joke a thing, or just something very odd he is saying

Hawkeye instantly delegating Margaret to replace Frank working with Sheila, and having Father Mulcahy step in to assist him: you love to see management in action

“Father, as long as we’re working together, is it alright if I call you Dad?” Stopp

Radar bringing Hawkeye coffee in an orange mug that says “HANK” (?) while he sits on the phone at Henry’s desk whimsically yet urgently trying to explain to a general that yes he’s a capable young surgeon but he’s not looking for a husband, he’s looking for help. Sorry, once again I don’t have a comment, I just love it. The mug is so "workplace"!! Just inheriting random objects!!

Radar, happy that Hawkeye is semi-letting him make him take command: “Yes, sir!” Hawkeye, drawing up: “Don’t get fresh.”

Margaret all I’M IN CHARGE, and Hawkeye just like that would be terrific in so many ways, thank you

I actually think this episode is a great blueprint for what makes Hawkeye’s sexism such an odd grey area. His quips to the nurses are almost always around their sexual availability, but that doesn’t actually preclude him from also totally trusting them as fellow medical professionals, possibly more than any other doctor in this camp. He’s confident in them, praises their good work, and above all puts them in charge of things, that’s the part that really feels outré for the 1950s. And the Army, for that matter. And he does all this while also joking that he wishes he could put his arms around them. It’s all a muddle!

I DIE. Did CBS simply not know about pegging, is that how they got this scene through. I mean it's fucking perfect.

Henry, walking in still feverish: “Well, Mr. and Mrs. 4077th.” I still don’t even know how to unpack this, just that god, it needs to be. THEY’RE A NARRATIVE PAIR. The prom king & queen of the MASH unit. Mr. and Mrs. 4077th.

Trapper wants to help him so bad. Also wants him to kiss his forehead in the middle of post-op. Trapper honey you are so under the weather.

GODDD I love Hawkeye & Margaret, these two!!!! This is where it started babyyy. His little goofy forlorn face looking up at her as she sticks the thermometer in his mouth, her little warmed dancing quirk of a smile when he says he wants to get well to tease her all over again, this literal expression :)). Themmm!

Hawkeye: “Radar, you’ll be assisting Margaret Houlihan, nurse, friend, and all-around good egg.” Radar and Margaret: Margaret, gently: “He’s very sick.” [softly] help!

“Okay gang. Ours is not to question why…” Ohhh. “Ours is not to let ‘em die.” But he doesn’t finish it here. He’s too sick, he just trails off as he works, and we don’t get the end of it until the start of Season 4.

His little sweet squinted up grin, “That really hits me where I live, thanks!” Haha help!

Radar trying to take his pulse and realizing he doesn’t have a watch to count byyy

Listen if it wasn’t obvious I adore this one

/

2x24 ‘A Smattering of Intelligence’

This opening bit with Margaret is such peak Hawkeye. I can hardly explain. Quipping to a patient to get better before the movie that night, the horrible outfit, the flirting that is just all self-deprecating or offering her use of his hands.

Margaret: [rips Flagg’s sleeve off] “Oh.” Hawkeye: “You thought about going into burlesque, Colonel?”

Flagg is currently presenting as only a Lieutenant Colonel. FYI. Even rank with Henry.

“He’s a CPA.” I laughed way more than I should have at this.

I thought I was going to be able to handle Hawkeye in shorts, but now he’s sitting like a weirdo in the Swamp and I’m not, I’m not able to handle it.

“Captain Stone.” “That’s not my real name.” “Ohh boy.” Henry is already so tired.

Henry: “Why do we have to be in the middle? Can’t you let my people go?”

He’s lounging again. With his boots and his bare knees.

He also has an entire pocket of these Q-tips he’s been chewing on this episode. What’s up, baby.

A lot of screen-cap-worthy shots in this episode. You've probably already seen some of them. That's because people are making good choices.

Okay but spy Radar is so choice though. He's perfect.

“Fellas, it’s been both a privilege and a nightmare meeting you.” I gotta start saying this.

/

2x20 ‘As You Were’

What I like about the one where everyone’s going stir-crazy is the physicality with which they’re rendering this mental state. Hawkeye just crossed the mess tent to Frank predominantly on top of the benches, stretched out practically full length on his elbow next to him to ask what he’s doing, then clambered back to Trapper along the bench tops again. Just very good.

Ohhhhhh my god, I forgot this was the one where Trapper & Hawkeye put Frank in a box. Watching and waiting as Radar plays the morning ‘Reveille’, drinking coffee in their robes….

Klinger’s red outfit is fire lbr

They make Henry deliver just so many sex lectures

Gary’s perfect delivery of that VD line is what makes this whole scene worth it

The amount of Klinger outfits we get this episode! And they’re always complimenting him!

Margareeetttt like yes, yes of course Frank, they’re horrible, but also oh my god the thing you WANT them to do is operate on you

They’re soooo impossible <33 swooping into the operating room with their gloved sterile hands up, still doing this whole comedy routine <3 Frank is SUFFERING

“He’s an idiot, but he’s really stacked.” Trapper Why

I really do love this episode. It’s made in the transition to the second half being all surgery.

Henry: “Organize some donors, Father, get plenty of blood.” Trapper: “Yeah you’ve just been promoted to vampire.” Hawkeye: “Turn in your cross.”

Fourth Klinger outfit, and it’s fabulous. In case he gets dizzy giving blood he “brought a pair of low heels.” I love him.

Gary’s impression of “a major” on the phone is Quite good. Fun to be reminded that he’s a talented impressionist.

Oh okay, Radar canonically 19. Wait what was that Karl Urban Bones meme, like oh great Jim, he’s 19.

“Fred? Do you think the principal saw us?” Frank what

This episode has an incredible amount of gay quips. OH GOD is that what that was earlier about Fred??!

Aw wow, when the newborn baby cries and they all look up from the wounds they’re working on

Fifth Klinger outfit. Doozy of an ep.

/

2x22 ‘George’

Trapper singing most if not all of ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin’ in surgery

Hawkeye, all worn out: “I hate sunrise. And those damn birds will start singing in a minute. Who are they to remind us of happiness?” Nurse: “We go back on again in an hour.” Hawkeye: “Amazing.” Nurse: “The sunrise?” Hawkeye: “The O.R. The amount of punishment the human body can take and still survive.” Trapper: “The doctors or the patients?” Hawkeye: “Which are we?” Wow okay Stoppard M*A*S*H (♥)

Someone’s gotta explain this “It only happens when I go tourist” line to me, as it’s ostensibly the reason why Private Weston knows he can come out to Hawkeye and what on EARTH does that mean!

JESUS CHRIST THE “I LIKE MINE THROUGH THE BOOT” JOKE WAS IN ‘GEORGE’??!!

Hawkeye: “What’s your rush, the war will still be there. Its options have been picked up for another year.” Lordy. M*A*S*H walked so Arrested Development could run honestly.

LOVE the way George comes out by the way. Little obvious logic puzzle, and Hawkeye perfectly playing along.

The entire pick-up football game tackling Father Mulcahy upstage makes me laugh so, so much

Oh god yeah—shots checkers

Wild that they are getting very very drunk playing shots checkers to try to talk about how this soldier has come out to Hawkeye and now what do they do

Wiiiild how many exhausted gay ass looks Hawley keeps giving to Trapper as Frank shares his ~information~

Love that Trapper is construing of homosexual behavior as just an expression of “individuality.” That so figures for him. God what a man.

Hawkeye: “How can you kick this little puppy of a person?” The puppy is Radar.

“Frank, why are you telling me this? Has the man made a pass at you? At me, at anyone?” I love Henry Blake. “Well you just never know, do you?” I am convinced sometimes he does. I am convinced Henry Blake knows far more about some of his officers in some regards than Potter ever did, and is just peaceably pretending he has no idea so that he’s got plausible deniability to keep not doing anything about it. Which is what makes it so annoying that Frank is talking to him about this right now.

It really is stunning that in the episode with the canon queer character & associated fall-out they are not remotely stopping doing things like Hawkeye stepping in for this nurse and stroking his hand until Henry asks if they can skip past the manicure

“a noncommittal goodbye leer”

Oho, Trapper canonically 6’3”. Damn Hawk your boyfriends are all so tall

Goddd bless Larry Linville for somehow making “Trap” sound like the most awkward terrible thing coming out of his mouth

“Trapper John McHypocrite” and asking him to look you in the eye could be a BIT much for the specifics of Weston’s situation, Hawkeye! Let’s reel around, let’s pivot!

The saucy no-hetero rewrite of this final button is too easy, and at least they gave us that.

/

2x21 ‘Crisis’

Father Mulcahy looks so cute in his jacket. He’s got his collar flipped up against the wind. Philadelphia <3

“Morning, Father. Take a pew.” Cute

Pierce, stop flirting with the priest

Very surprising that Alda is the least bundled up in this scene, how'd this happen

Trapper commenting that he’s gotta write this Frankism down and then actually doing it and sticking the note in his shirt pocket—my guy

Very foolish to put Hawkeye on maintenance & general services

Henry: “Now Radar will be the Housing Officer. Before this is over, we may have to double up or triple up to save heat. Radar will decide who sleeps with who.” Trapper: “Radar, I’d like to see you right after the meeting.” It’s such a funny line reading, and then he ends up cozy in adjoined cots with Hawkeye and it’s even better.

Oooo is this the debut of Klinger’s fur coat!

I love when the couples face off

Trapper, holding an unlit flashlight on Frank as he tries to move for the hot plate: “I’ve got you covered.”

Frank: “Ohh, you!” Together: “We are Not.” I’m gonna murder them

All them piling in shivering to the Swamp fills my heart with, incongruously, warmth. This is when the show really started to family them. The addition of Father Mulcahy and Corporal Klinger is key to this.

Klinger: “I’ve never slept in an officer’s tent before.” Hawkeye: “We’ll try to be kind.” Oh my god

Second appearance of Radar’s homemade surgical gauze & headphones earmuffs, BLESS

Love Klinger practicing skincare

“Power boss,” fun. Trapper really does take to being responsible for something so well. He likes a task.

I’ll never be over Trapper & Hawkeye essentially in a double bed under Frank sideways in a hammock. This was such wonderful blocking. “Frank, stop swinging.”

“Father, it’s cold out there—you want my stole?” “Oh, thank you my son!” Meanwhile, the boys are scrabbling around with Frank’s feet trying to steal his socks. Larry: “Noooo!” Obsessed with this episode

Haha it actually does kinda feel like a season finale the way it ends on the visual of Henry’s office now entirely empty. Thanks for validating my order choices, M*A*S*H!

*****

Viewguides (selected episodes for each season; M*A*S*H reduced like a gravy)

Misc. MASH (formless notes from my watches)

#M*A*S*H hours (all this & More)

[thatonefatgumsimp]

it's 141am, I'm thinking about my version of Vigilante!Deku AU and having lil brain thoughts and writing everything down and I'm about to make it your problem!

(Under the cut, cw/tw: character death, cussing)

Everything is the same up until the sludge monster incident.

Izuku didn't go home just yet, he stayed and moped on the roof for a bit longer before heading home. When Izuku had heard what happened, he was shocked and sorry he didn't make it to help Katsuki, but he was glad that All Might had saved him…even if he'd pushed Izuku off the path of becoming a hero. Nonetheless, the greenette was still determined to help people!

The next part is set after Katsuki had taken the entrance exam at UA.

He came home one night soaking wet and covered in blood that was not his own. This had been happening all week, but Inko had just assumed Izuku had been getting beaten up and bullied like usual. She'd never suspected her son had become a vigilante until about the 6th night he'd come home like that. She confronted her son. "Wha- h-how did you-?" "Well for starters, dear, if you had lost that much blood in a week, you'd be dead so I figured that it's someone else's blood you've been coming home covered in. Secondly, your knuckles are bruising quite badly…let me fix those for you."

She was supportive and washed her son's vigilante outfit for him and bandaged his cuts and bruises.

Sure, Inko would've rathered her son become a hero or something more legal, but if being a vigilante and helping others made Izuku happy, then she was content.

Everything else at UA was the same except that Tetsutetsu had joined 1A, Shinso had joined 1B, and Tetsutetsu would eventually become part of the Bakusquad.

At first Izuku was on pretty neutral terms with Stain. They weren't friends, but they weren't enemies.

That was until Izuku learned he was killing heroes.

He tried to take him down, but ultimately ended up failing. Stain, in revenge, killed Izuku's mother.

So when Ingenium's little brother came for revenge after Stain went after the Hosu pro hero Ingenium, Izuku took his chance for revenge.

He helped one Iida Tenya who was in trouble and cause a little bit of commotion luring in a nearby, curious Shoto.

They all took down Stain, but Tenya had passed out. Shoto, after talking to the mysterious boy, left a note for Endeavor saying "I'll be back soon, old man, not that you care." and followed the greenette to his abandoned building hideout.

He followed him back to an abandoned building with a duffel bag full of clothes, a blow up mattress with an all might blanket and a pillow on it, a microwave, a TV, a phone charger, and an all might rug.

Izuku had let Shoto follow him here.

I: so why are you following me? S: who are you? I: A vigilante with a purpose, next question. S: if you're a vigilante, why were you helping us and not Stain? I: sweet cinnamon roll smile oh well that's easy! stare of death he killed my mom. S: oh- I: what about you? Aren't you Endeavor's son? S: I wish I wasn't… I: puts two cup noodles in the microwave wanna talk about it? S: …yeah…

awhile later after talking and eating

S: so you're telling me it doesn't matter if it's like his quirk cuz it's my quirk not his and I shouldn't really give a shit? I: exactly! Yknow if you ever feel like you wanna be a hero without all the restrictions, I could always use the help. S: no thanks…I think I'm gonna go back to UA and do it the right way just to spite my old man. I: OK, no problem! But if you change your mind, you know where to find me. S: thanks…I've never really been able to talk to anyone like this before… I: if you want, I can give you my number and we can text? S: yeah, that sounds good… I: and feel free to swing by anytime you'd like when you're in the area…just don't tell anyone about my hiding place or I'll slit your throat a mixed joke and threat S: OK, thanks

Shoto leaves and they gradually get closer until Izuku hears about a girl who was being held captive by the Shie Hassaki.

That's all I've written down so far, but basically eventually he saves Eri, she lives with him for a bit, then he's like "shit, sorry…I kinda put you in a lot of danger. You're a great kid and I'd love to keep taking care of you cuz you're the closest thing I've had to family in awhile, but you'll be safer with the heroes."

So Aizawa takes her and her things and comes back to take Izuku as well, but he packed his stuff and found a new abandoned building and Aizawa's just like "shit I just lost a feral green child, where do I find it-" and after a few more months, Eraser, Mic, and Midnight find him.

He refuses to be taken in so they use force with Midnight's quirk and basically give him and Eri their own dorm building.

They brought all his stuff dw.

And Bakugo sees him and is like "that's not the quiet shy boy I knew in middle school, that's a feral little shit, holy fuck what happened?"

Lo and behold he finds out about Inko's death cuz he and his family just thought they, like, moved or smthn and he's like "WTF?! HOW DID I NOT KNOW ABOUT THIS!"

Basically Aizawa adopts a feral gremlin street child except this child has teeth and will bite and is basically a glorified leash kid.

[moxfirefly]

11. “sit on my face immediately”

and

19. “i’m sorry i keep staring, but you’re really the hottest thing i’ve ever seen in my entire life and i don’t know what to do about it”

with raph and female reader. thx<3

Listen I feel like it’s been a hot minute since I gave Raph some love so why not! (I’ve got a bunch of prompts and I’m getting to them slowly but surely friends do not fret!)

So yes, let’s get it.

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

He could look at you all day.

Quite literally so, if Raph had 24hrs to spare and was giving the go away to do as he pleased, he’d spend them looking at you.

Because he’s absolutely addicted to your movements, not just in bed, in general. The way you carry yourself, the way you switch your weight from foot to foot. So much so he’s got it down to precision. He’s been hanging out at your place for a few hours, snuck out and shot a text to Fearless that he’d be busy.

He’d get the riot card read to him, might even get sent to the Hashi for it but right now your doing that thing with your legs he loves so much. Switching from one to another, jutting out your hip and giving him a perfect view of your rear watch time you stood more on one foot. It was a work related call which meant he had to be a good noodle, couldn’t speak, couldn’t complain.

Fine, he could do that. I mean, so long as he can continue to stare at you, run his green eyes over beautiful supple skin that is just way too free of marks.

Preferably so, his teeth.

He lounged against the bed, resting against his arms and not missing how your eyes raked over his biceps. At some point you had turned to look right at him as you continued the business phone call. You watched his eyes rest at your chest, adjusting the straps of your bra out of habit, you enjoyed the way he licked his lips. You raised your eyebrows at how obvious he was, trying not to chuckle while speaking to your boss on the phone proved difficult. Last minute pleasantries exchanged you hung up and placed the phone on the nearest dresser.

“Well?” You crossed your arms (a little on purpose naturally) and delighted in the way Raph’s stupor broke through just enough for him to give you those innocent eyes of his. “What?” He asked sheepishly with a small grin.

“You’ve been staring at me for the past hour I’ve been on the phone, what’s so intriguing?” You knew the answer though, you were in your undergarments (had just been freshly showered when work called).

“I’m sorry I keep staring, but yer really the hottest thing I’ve seen in my entire life and I don’t know what to do about it” He smirked when your cheeks flushed at his words. How he managed to make you feel self conscious and gorgeous all in one was truly a talent of his.

Raph was already hard just imagining ways he could show you just how hot he knew you were. “Take ‘em off” He motioned to your undergarments.

“And who says you’ve earned that?” You chided.

“Cant eat ya out if those are in the way” He spoke matter of fact. You felt your pulse quicken as the thought. With only some mild defiance you slowly stripped for him, only to drive him a little more crazy with want. When that large hand of his palmed the front of his shorts, it took a lot of your resolves to not jump him. “God fucking dam yer the hottest thing in this entire planet, c’mere baby” He beckoned you over as he slipped a little further down the bed to rest on his shell.

You bit your tongue, clearly knowing what he was gonna demand.

“Sit on my face immediately” He nearly purred out with a growl. Climbing on top of him you did just that, your core coming to rest on his face as Raph palmed your rear and gave that first slow and deliberate lick. How easily you could become drenched thanks to his mouth, his tongue licked your folds, swirling around your clit enough times to make you question your reality. Ever moment your body betrayed you and felt like falling he’d be there to grip your rear or thighs harder and keep you afloat.

He churred, deeply and gravely and it was felt right against your clit. Your hands shot up towards the headboard and gripped the metal. By the hundredth circle on your clit, Raph opted to dip his tongue inside of you making you bucks against his face the way he loved so much. That was the thing with the red banded brute, you could rub yourself raw against his face and he’d thank you afterwards. On one to many occasions had you taken his capabilities to hold his breath for your own gain.

Raph did not fucking mind.

The first time he had forced you onto his face in the heat of the moment, it had been heaven. He’d never tasted anything better, never smelled anything more delicious. With just a few licks he had embarrassingly came in his own underwear (and boy had that been an orgasm for the books).

A large three fingered hand landed on your rear, several smacks urging you onto your released sooner than later. You rode him harder, faster, each groan and churr pushing you forwards to rest against the wall of your headboard. How he loved that increasing pitch of desperation coupled with his name, that ‘Raph Raph Rapha-!’ that ended with your body tightening and compressing in on itself with the intensity of your release. He dug his hand onto your hips, steadying you as that gush of wet released fell into his mouth, so tart and delicious he could cum right then if he humped up enough for the friction of his shorts.

Foggy green looked up at you, mostly seeing your tits (and not complaining) the flush of your skin as your high settled and your limbs weren’t stone. On shaking legs you got off, he inhaled and exhaled satisfied with smelling and tasting you. He looked over towards your body, long breaths and that tremble in your thighs he loved so much.

But this wouldn’t do, he wanted more, wanted to see your writhe more, but he also wanted to cum.

“Take a breather, get back on here and maybe use that pretty mouth of yers too” He raised his hips, sliding off his shorts along his underwear.

Your mouth watered at the sight.

[kthynes]

baby me

pairing: chris evans x female reader

request: Can you pls write something about Chris sick with some kind of stomach bug and fever and doesn’t want the reader to help him because he’s embarrassed but then he throw up and almost faint so the reader comes to the rescue and help him, and then cuddles? Thank you!!❤️ - anon

warnings: none, this is pretty pg

a/n: I wrote this one shot a little differently, it’s way less wordy and descriptive (imo). I’m trying to be more ‘to the point’ with my writing ahh we shall see how it goes. Otherwise please enjoy this little gem, thanks for the request, anon!

“What do you mean you can’t have it done? Oh, c’mon Tony that’s not what I— Alright okay, you know what, sure, whatever, do that then.”

You’re annoyed. You’re frustrated. You rummage through your oversized purse for the house keys that Chris has graciously lent you yet you somehow manage to misplace in the silk sheath of lining, receipts and a whole slew of miscellany.

Your one track life becomes an undisputed conundrum of work which never fails to follow you home even on a somewhat good day. Tony, the wrought-up site manager, says something the minute you tune out which allows to spiral right back in. Sometimes you bark. And sometimes you bite.

“Right but the unit division budget doesn’t have anything going forward in respect to that notion! You know this!” You boisterously tell your colleague after jiggling the door open and tossing the keys on top of the nearby console. The house is quiet, and your voice is the loudest carrying tremor that pulls Chris out of his lulling state. “No, no you are not fucking negotiating with Kingsley alright. That isn’t apart of the deal, Tone! Jesus.”

Your call consumes you just until you see your deadbeat partner sprawled up on the couch, sallow and sick. His dry lips are agape, breathing is staggered, little to no life is present in his form. His beautiful mutt looks to you from his side, tail slightly wagging and that is enough to have your heart torn out.

“Hey, hey Tony, can I call you back later? O-Oh sure, okay yeah that’s fine. Okay, alright buh-bye.” You frantically end the call, furrowing your brows as you take long, leaping strides towards Chris who is finally relieved to see you in all of your concerned beauty.

“Everything okay baby?” He croaks like a dying horse, eyes closing as his stomach lurches some more.

“You’re asking me? Goodness Chris, you look terrible.” You cradle the side of his balmy face while crouched in front of him. You are frightened with worry as he kisses the inside of your palm in return. The sweet action itself makes you wince as you scan his sunken and unpropitious features.

Chris is at his worst. You knew he was feeling a bit under the weather but didn't think once that it'd be this bad. He's severely impaled, sweating up a storm yet swathed in his favorite velour duvet. The TV is fuzzily broadcasting C-Span while Chris’s laptop is flipped open with a flood of emails that he wasn’t able to get around to. There’s a half eaten loaf bread and an open sleeve of crackers that doesn’t pass his appetite. While looking around, you casually pet Dodger with one free hand who also seems to be happy to see his momma around and readily waiting for you to do something.

“I don’t know what it is that I had last night at the launch party but it’s rocking my insides honey.” Chris groans after feeling another ripple go through his abdominal cavity.

“Aw baby you should’ve called me. I would’ve picked up some Pedialyte and left work early.” You reach over to turn off the TV and close the laptop.

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

"Too late for that, hon." You fearfully laugh while getting back to him and running a hand through the top of his head down to the nape of his neck. "Now c'mon lets get you in bed first and then I can make you some light dinner."

"I'm fine." Chris hums, loving the way your hands felt against the shaft of his scalp. "You just came home from work, you're probably really tired — go shower and get changed. I'm good right here."

"Don't be stupid, Evans. I can do all that later, now up." After some reluctant attempts you manage to get Chris up who for the most part can stand on his own two feet. Dodger barks his cautionary welcome as you and Chris trudge across the threshold of the single storey home together. You both enter his unmade room and that’s when Chris freezes in mid-stride. He has an uneasy feeling wash over him and everything becomes a jolting sprint of madness.

"Oh no babe I think I might—“ Upchuck. Chunks of indistinguishable remnants of undigested food and bile all came down on your frame as you stood in the line of fire. It’s fleeting and there wasn’t much you could do as you wore his vomit, letting it weigh down the front of your seersucker blouse and skirt.

"Fuuuuck." He panics and you exhale shakily with your arms spread apart, studying the wet projectile painting that amasses your body.

"It's fine. It’s okay." You say while trying to remain sympathetic and undeterred by throwing up yourself because the smell was impalpable. You imprudently gag while guiding Chris back to the bed. "How about you lie down and I’ll just —Chris? Chris!"

Chris's eyes gradually roll back, his body swings forward the minute he sits on the edge of the mattress and with your fast reflexes you manage to catch him against you. He's practically deadweight, passed out and that scares you.

"Oh god Chris babe? Baby, hey, hey..." You shake him a little as his face is caught in the crook of your neck, body rigidly leaned up against yours. He moans a little, regaining consciousness in a matter of seconds and calming your increased heart-rate that still continues to thunder. He was truly going through the motions.

"You alright?" You breathe, placing a hand on his cheek and forcing him to look at you.

"Yeah, yeah I'm okay. I'm so sorry, baby I...I..." He's a bit frazzled as you hush, pacify and hold him close to your form. He breathes you in as you strip off your soiled blouse and skirt. He’s hunched over when you start to peel off the black tee he has on that is smeared with vomit as well, leaving him bare chested in your embrace. You are crouching in front of him, his forehead against you shoulder while your hands were rubbing his back and soothing him. You could hear the low indigestible rumbles coming from his belly knowing how bad he’s been having it on both ends. “Oh I feel terrible Y/N.”

“I know. How about you get in the shower with me." You whisper in a non-sexual way as his body is burning up and the sour smell of regurgitation still lingered around your bodies. He softly nods and with some consuming seconds later, you walk him into the ensuite.

After you both wash up in the shower, you pass Chris some fresh clothes to change into while you travelled across the room in nothing but a towel for the past 10 minutes or so, making sure Chris was able to get himself sorted out first before you stepped away to get changed.

With dinner on your mind, you start thinking to yourself how you can't leave Chris alone in this state. You have an idea and that’s when you text Scott to bring up some dinner so that way you could spend some time holding Chris and making sure that he was okay.

Scott at 7:45 pm:

'On it baby cakes. Ma knows, she's making his favorite chicken noodle with lots of cayenne, ginger and all the good stuff. So you just stay put alright?’

You smile after reading the immediate response from Chris’s sweet brother. While you continue lathering yourself up in lotion you could hear Chris dozing off on the bed. You turn off the bathroom lights and leave to start up a load of laundry before sneaking back into bed with him. Chris stirs a bit before he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in closer.

“I promise I won’t throw up on you again.”

“Only if you don’t have to.” You whisper jokingly while pressing your lips against the underside of his chin. He hums at this with his eyes closed, his hands graze your exposed skin as he’s trying to hold you as inhumanely close to him as possible. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

“Scott’s going to be dropping off food so don’t go to sleep yet.” You state, drifting in apprehensive thought. Soon Dodger whimpers into the room and you pat the spot next to you for him to jump on. Chris has always been weary of having Dodger on the bed but because of extenuating circumstances you felt like his presence was also needed as well.

“That’s fine. Thanks again for everything.” He shuffles over after he sees Dodger crawling up and wedging himself in between the both of you. “Mmm hi bubba.”

“Anything for you mio amore.” You say, rubbing his soft belly and soothing the ache to the best of your ability.

“You know, you’re going to be an amazing mother some day Y/N.” Chris muses.

“I hope so.”

“I know so.” Chris rebuts, drawing in a deep breath with his eyes closed. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You say in return, spending the rest of the evening in his wake before the entire Evans clan shows up at the front door, each worried silly about their pride and joy, leaving Chris to be theirs and having you watch from afar while they enforced their own tender love and care.

[jenwritesstories]

His (2/2)

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x OFC (Eve Dayton)

RATING: PG

TW: Possessive Loki, Clingy Loki, Unrequited love, Jealous Loki

WORD COUNT: 1,222

SUMMARY: Loki didn’t want to bring Eve to the tower for one reason; he didn’t want the others trying to tear them apart. He finally caves knowing that Eve hates her dorm room. What Loki didn’t expect was someone else on the team falling for his girl.

Part One

Loki was furious. He thought bringing Eve to the tower would be bad because the team would try to split them up, but someone falling in love with her? Unfathomable.

Loki went back to his room where Eve was taking a nap. Since she wasn’t feeling great he insisted that she eat something and go back to sleep.

When he entered the room he smiled to himself as he saw her curled up on his large bed, in his black, satin sheets, hugging his pillow while wearing his shirt.

It was about 20 minutes later when she finally woke up. She smiled at her boyfriend and motioned for him to come closer. He happily obliged.

When he got close enough she wrapped her arms around his torso and laid her head against his chest, sighing in contentment. Loki ran his hand through he hair and smiled to himself.

"How are you feeling, darling?" He quietly asked.

"I feel a little better. My stomach is still upset though." She mumbled against his chest.

He hummed in response. "Do you want to get up? Perhaps take a shower and we can go out to the kitchen and I can make you some soup. I read that midgardian's eat soup when they are feeling down."

Eve nodded but didn't move. "I love you." She whispered, hugging him a little tighter.

Loki let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "I love you too, my angel." He softly replied.

After some time, he helped her up since she was feeling a bit weak and got her in the shower before finding her some comfortable clothes (a pair of her favorite velvet shorts and one of his {few} t-shirts). He sat on the bed, thinking about what he had overheard.

On one hand, Barnes hasn't made a move. Hell, he's barely talked to her. But he was watching her; watching them. He was thinking about her and longing for her.

Loki knew in the back of his mind that Eve wasn't going to leave him. She genuinely does love him, and the trust she has put in him and the way she cares for him is the proof. But he couldn't help but to feel as if one day she'll actually realize what he's done and be repulsed by him.

He knows he shouldn't do anything, but he needs to make sure Barnes knows that she's his, and it's not up for debate. That's when his famous mischievous smile adorned his face. He knew exactly what to do.

***

When Eve stepped out of the bathroom in just her towel, Loki stood up and gave her a hug.

"Loki," she giggled. "I'm gonna get you all wet."

Loki laughed. "Sometimes I think you purposely say things in hopes of earning a sexual response."

This made her laugh more. She hugged him back though. With a wave of his hands he had her dressed in the clothes he earlier picked out.

"I'll never get bored of your magic." She hummed as she looked up at him. Loki gave her a warm smile and leaned down to give her a kiss.

"Did the shower help at all?" He asked, hoping her stomach uneasiness has faded.

She shrugged. "It did while I was in it, but now it's back. I think I need to eat."

Loki nodded. "To the kitchen we go." He said, picking her up bridal style.

"Loki! I can walk you know." She laughed.

He shrugged. "Perhaps I just enjoy my love needing me."

Eve smiled. "I always need you Loki. More than you'll ever realize." She said softly before kissing his cheek.

"I can say the same, my love." He smiled.

Once they reached the kitchen, he set her down on the counter and grabbed a can of chicken noodle soup. While he could have used his magic to prepare something, according to Eve whenever he did so the food tasted weird.

Since Eve was a regular mortal, Loki had become quite familiar with the typical electronics and appliances on Earth, so he had no problem pouring the soup into a pot and turning to stove on; he is a god after all.

"I forgot to ask, did you ask your teacher about your essay?" He asked as he stirred the soup.

"I did, and oh my god, Loki." She sighed. "You don't know how painful that was." She added dramatically.

He laughed. "Do tell."

As she recounted her encounter with her English professor, Steve, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, and Peter entered the kitchen since they finished training.

"And then she was rambling about how her husband had an affair with their neighbor and her kids knew. She said that literature is her therapy and, don't get me wrong, that's great, but I just wanted to know if I used a word correctly." She explained exasperatedly.

"Who was this?" Sam chimed in, leaning against the other counter.

"Oh hi guys." She smiled. "It was my English professor." A few seconds later she started coughing.

"It sounds like you might be coming down with a cold, love." Loki frowned, placing his hand on her forehead.

She sighed at the coolness of his palm. "I hope not. I have a lot to do."

After she ate the soup and drank 2 glasses of water -per Loki's request- the pair went to the common room where the others were and took their usual spot on the love seat.

Loki was now hyper aware of the fact that Bucky was basically staring at Eve like a lovesick puppy.

Loki gritted his teeth and pulled Eve onto his lap, so her back was against the arm of the seat.

"What was that for?" She asked quietly, running her hand through his hair.

He smirked, knowing that Bucky had enhanced hearing and could hear everything they were saying. "I just enjoy having you close."

She let out a small chuckle. "We were close before."

"Perhaps I just want everyone here to know you're mine."

Loki swore he heard a gasp from Bucky, but he didn't even spare him a look.

Eve smiled. "I think everyone knows I'm yours."

Loki smirked again. "I don't think everyone knows, but I have no issue in showing them."

Eve laughed. "Well I can confirm I am all yours. Wouldn't want it any other way."

Loki's smirk faded into a soft frown. "So you wouldn't leave me for someone else? Someone who is a good guy?"

Eve furrowed her eyebrows. "Loki, I'm not gonna leave you. I don't care who it is, you're the only one I have eyes for. And you are a good guy. You've done questionable things, but you've had your reasons. I love you and that includes your past. Just like you love me with my past."

Loki sighed and leaned his forehead against hers. "What did I do to deserve you?"

Eve laughed. "You saved me from those jerks at school."

Loki let out a soft chuckle and leaned in to give her a soft kiss. When they turned their attention to the tv, Loki took a glance at Bucky and saw his fists clenched. He let a satisfied smirk adorn his face and pulled Eve tighter against his chest.

"I love you." She whispered.

Loki smiled. "I love you too."

[kaetiesmindpalace]

At Your Side -- A Destination Fear One Shot (Tanner Wiseman/Reader)

A/N: Happy Holidays!!! Here’s a new one shot.

Requested by Anonymous | Also found on AO3

The crew and you just wrapped up on the last location of this road trip. With back-to-back locations, you had not gotten much sleep and could not wait to be in your bed snuggled up to Tanner. Attempting to sleep on a moving RV is rather cramped and someone else always seems to take up the big bed in the back, usually Chelsea. Luckily the wait to get back home was not long since the location was only 20 minutes away, and those 20 minutes seemed to fly by in a blink of an eye.

Now the only thing in the way from you achieving a good night's sleep was putting the equipment away. With 5 people, heaving the many cases went rather quickly. With Alex grabbing the last case, you all turned to the house to head back in.

That is when it decided to start raining.

Alex started booking it to the door first, seeing as he had equipment on him, followed shortly by Dakota and Chelsea. You start to go when you feel Tanner stop you.

“C’mon,” he says with a smile on his face, “Let’s enjoy some fun in the rain for once.”

You smile back at him and follow his lead towards the side of the road. There, he grabs your hands and starts to dance with you in the rain. You quickly follow his steps and soon the both of you are chuckling and enjoying the moment. Time passes, you are not sure how much exactly as you were just enjoying the time spent with your boyfriend, he brings you closer and kisses you in the rain.

“Ever the romantic,” you say once you break from the kiss, “This moment definitely belongs in a rom-com.”

Tanner smiles at you with his eyes filled with love before saying, “Glad I accomplished that. Now come on, let’s go inside before either one of us gets sick.”

The two of you run back towards the house and quickly get out of your wet clothes before calling it a night. The two of you settled into bed, cuddling up to one another, and quickly fell asleep.

You woke up hours later feeling cold. You turn to the side and notice Tanner must have gotten up to use the bathroom because his side of the bed was still a bit warm, and the sheets were everywhere. You immediately start cocooning yourself in the blankets to try and get warm. Once you had become a blanket burrito was when Tanner returned.

“Hi,” he says in a soft voice.

You smile at him and get your arms out from the blankets to make grabby hands at him. He chuckles slightly before quickly joining you in bed again. You wrap your arms around him and place your forehead on his shoulder. It felt cool to the touch, and you much appreciated it.

“Love, you’re burning up,” Tanner says with concern in his voice.

“I’m okay” you say in a stuffy voice before being racked with a cough.

“Well, that doesn’t sound good at all. Guess my judgement on when to get out of the rain was off. Sorry to have caused you to get sick,” he says with a guilty look on his face before kissing your hairline.

“It’s not your fault. I think it was a combination of the rain and not much sleep the past few days,” you answer back.

“You get some more sleep, and I’ll take care of you,” Tanner says while getting up and tucking you in.

You nod your head in response, already starting to doze off again. A couple hours of sleep later, you wake up again and find some Day-Quil on your nightstand along with a bottle of water. You quickly take the medicine with the water. As you are about to get out of bed, the door to your room opens and Tanner quickly enters with a bowl of something steaming in his hands.

“I know it’s not homemade or anything special, but I thought I’d make you some chicken noodle soup when you woke up,” he says while handing you the bowl with the spoon already in it before sitting beside you on the bed.

“I’d say it’s special because you made it. Thank you” you smile back before being racked with yet another coughing fit.

Once the coughing fit subsided, you quickly ate the soup, not realizing how hungry you were until that moment. When you finished, Tanner quickly took the empty bowl back to the kitchen before returning to your side.

“Now, can we cuddle? That’s all I really want right now,” you say while making grabby hands again.

“As you wish, love,” he says while quickly pulling you in.

You start to doze off again in the warm embrace of your boyfriend with nothing but a smile on your face. Throughout the rest of the day, Tanner continued to dote on you. Luckily this cold seemed to come and go quickly, and when Tanner ended up catching it, you doted on him as much as he did you.

[tobiogf]

suna and tendou fighting over you

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬

i haven’t gotten high in a while and i kinda just really want to get high with these 2d boyfs

you felt a pair of hands on your waist and suddenly you were being pulled sideways into suna’s lap as tendou extended his hand holding the bong towards you. he held it out in front of your face, a lighter in his other hand.

“you need to take a strong pull, okay?”

you nodded, lowering your mouth into the glass pipe. suna’s hand pulled your hair back and held it for you while tendou lit the bowl. you immediately inhaled deeply, feeling smoke scratch the back of your throat without remorse.

“ohhh shit, that’s a good one,” suna murmured by your shoulder.

tendou grinned. “yeah, keep it going, y/n...” suna chuckled excitedly and you welcomed the challenge, feeling your lungs burn for air, tears blotting your vision as your head swam and your eyes rolled back dizzily. you popped your lips off the pipe, eyelids fluttering as tendou moved his face close to yours, parting his lips for a taste.

your jaw slackened slightly, sending swirls of smoke into the limited space between your mouths before tendou breathed in, sucking in most of the smoky strands. feeling delirious, you let your head fall back against suna’s chest and he dug his chin into your shoulder, making you giggle.

“you feeling okay?” he asked and you nodded, pulling your lips into a blissful smile.

“mission make (y/n) use a bong for once fucking success,” tendou slurred, pumping his fists and dancing around in a little circle. suna tugged the bong from your fingertips and took his own puff before passing it to the red-haired boy.

you slid out of suna’s lap and slumped against the couch, heart racing while goosebumps ran up the length of your arms. before you even realized it, music was blasting from suna’s speakers and tendou was holding the tv remote to his lips, rapping along to the lyrics. suna eyes were all red and squinty as he watched tendou’s performance, occasionally laughing when tendou messed up a lyric or ran out of breath to finish a verse.

“i’m so hungry,” you announced, your voice loud and smooth in your ears. a moment later, tendou was helping you to your feet, his hands holding yours and dancing behind you as the three of you made your way to the kitchen. suna had tore open a few packs of instant noodles and was now mixing in different spices while tendou sang feel good inc. loudly.

you bent over the counter, resting an elbow on the surface of the counter, mesmerized by the movements of suna wrists as he mixed the noodles. tendou put his hands on your sides and swayed his hips against yours.

“love forever, love is free, turned forever you and me,” he sang, grabbing your hand and twirling you around. you rolled your eyes, laughing happily as he sang to you this time.

“satori, if you don’t shut the fuck up right now,” suna grumbled from where he stood at the stove. tendou didn’t listen, still pushed you against the counter, still used a hand on your chin to keep you watching him.

once the noodles were ready, the three of you gathered around suna’s dining table, the only sound then was the music and tendou’s loud slurping. you were just focused on chewing the food before swallowing, sighing contently as the noodles filled you up. after eating, suna immediately searched for his controller and turned on his PlayStation, now dull eyes glued to the screen as he waited for a match.

tendou got comfortable on the couch, lazily spreading his legs and becoming an audience to suna’s match. you dropped next to the red-haired boy, head on his shoulder and not budging no matter how many times tendou shifted his body forward to yell at the screen.

“bro, switch your load out, you idiot,” tendou would say, pointing at the screen in frustration. “you’re never gonna get a good shot with that gun.”

suna wouldn’t listen. “i know what i’m doing, satori — just shut the fuck up and let me play.”

you were slightly tired but you found entertainment in tendou barking instructions at suna while suna repeatedly yelled at him to shut up.

“stop squirming, i’m trying to rest here,” you mumbled, pushing tendou back against the couch frame and dropping your head on his shoulder once more.

“make me stop squirming,” tendou responded.

you grinned, throwing your leg over his lap and climbing onto him. “there. now you can’t move.”

tendou jerked one of his legs forward and you fell unsuspectingly against his chest. “sorry... what were you saying about me not being able to move?” tendou teased, hands gripping your hips and looking down at you sitting right on top of his dick.

“eyes up here,” you said, putting a finger underneath tendou’s chin and tilting his head up to look at you. tendou pressed his lips together, his intense yet playful gaze at your eyes made you slightly bashful.

“don’t leave me out, what the fuck,” said suna from behind you, scrambling to his feet, eyes fixed to the screen as he gunned down a few opponents and then removed a hand from his controller to pull your head backwards and stare at you from above. his gaze dragged up to look at tendou, both boys giving each other knowing expressions.

“rin—”

you couldn’t finish your whisper, suna had already lowered his mouth onto yours, kissing you messily as his nose tickled your chin. he tossed his controller to the side, deepening the kiss with his tongue in your mouth. you couldn’t help letting out a muffled whimper as tendou lifted his hips slightly, grinding right up against you with his sturdy, bruising fingers holding your own hips in place.

suna released your lips, a trail of saliva connecting his mouth to yours, eyes watching you intently as yours fluttered with every rough rub of tendou’s jeans between your legs.

“fuck...” tendou choked out through gritted teeth. the edges of suna’s mouth twitched like he was going to laugh and you bit your bottom lip, giggling silently at tendou’s whispered sounds. “the fuck are you two laughing at?” he sighed, a hand coming up behind you to tug at your hair.

“mm, nothing,” you murmured, allowing suna to capture your lips once more. the angle was awkward but it didn’t take away from the heatedness with which he was kissing your lips. your neck had started to ache where it was bent backwards but suna had wrapped a hand around it, his thumb rubbing the back of your neck soothingly.

tendou buried his head against the exposed side of your neck, kissing and sucking, teeth grazing your skin and leaving occasional bites. his hands slid up to your sides and he bucked his hips up into yours, causing you to release a gasp into suna’s mouth, heart jumping as you felt extremely wet down there.

out of breath and heart beating rapidly, you managed to tear your hand away from where it was tangled in tendou’s hair before pushing suna back and falling breathlessly into tendou’s arms.

“what the fuck, rin... i couldn’t fucking breathe.”

“yeah, what the fuck, rin... you choking my little girl like that?” asked tendou, wrapping his arms around you and sliding you off of his lap before extending a foot and pushing suna backwards.

“i wasn’t choking her... i was just putting my hand on her neck...” suna mumbled. “it was a bad position — and when the fuck did she become your girl, huh?”

tendou didn’t answer, he just shifted his attention to you. “are you still high, (y/n)?” he asked, pulling your body underneath him. you smiled, dropping your head back.

“i’m fucking floating.”

“it’s cause of that bong pull,” suna grinned.

“good, cause i’m about to do something that’ll drive you fucking crazy,” tendou said, gently pulling your legs apart and looking at you for permission. suna was already on the other couch, watching you two attentively with a hand rubbing over the imprint of his cock in his sweatpants.

suddenly there was a loud beeping alarm that had you jolting upright, tendou’s fingers pulled away from the hem of your underwear and suna had jumped to his feet, staring horrified at the kitchen. large billows of smoke were hovering around the entrance of the kitchen and you swore you’d never sobered up so fast in your life.

tendou was the only one with the rationality left to go into the kitchen in order to see what had caused the smoke detector to go off. you and suna trailed hesitantly behind him as tendou extended a long arm and switched off the smoke detector, bringing his hands to his hips and staring at suna, who sucked in a sharp breath.

“suna?” said tendou as you peeked into the pot on the stove. the remaining noodles in there had been completely blackened and scorched and you couldn’t help as your jaw fell open. “did you forget to turn off the stove?”

the brown haired boy bit his lip, hand reaching up to itch the back of his head.

“yeah... i-i guess i did.”

i know they didn’t technically fight but just you bein bffs wit them and them teasing each other and u... idk it hits different

[oftenderweapons]

Steamy Waters — Jungkook

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 7.7k 

Genre: smut, pwp; initial fluff, but don’t let that fool you; established relationship;  idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Hello my fluffy ducklings, welcome to Jeongguk’s Steamy Waters 😈

I won’t even pretend there’s a plot in this. It’s just Jk, coming home from the gym and finding excuses to shower with his gf. Set almost a month after Love Talk, Jeongguk is finally ready to take a big step in his relationship with Candy, however finding the courage for the big leap is excruciating. Candy is more than willing to reward him before asking for something in return, she simply doesn’t know how much her game will cost her. 

I decided I’ll keep using the nickname the nickname “Guk”, (see more in this post). Now, straight on to...

TRIGGER WARNINGS: unprotected sex within an established relationship (don’t do that unless YOU’RE TESTED AND CLEAN), mentions of therapy and mental health; sweaty jock!Jungkook, smitten!Jungkook who can’t express his emotions but IS WORKING ON IT, with a very supportive gf; I guess there’s a striptease, if you like... squint?; masturbation (female and male receiving); breast worship; period talk; very intimate love confession; foreplay under the shower (specifically mutual oral sex — aka 69 — while laying on the floor); predator/prey dynamics (namely she runs and he chases her, finds her as she tries to hide, drags her out and throws her over his shoulder); plenty of lube (lube is important and useful, let’s normalise using it); lots of degradation and objectification, name calling (fuckdoll, slut, cocksleeve, cockfairy), very multiple orgasms — like a lot; edging (both male and female receiving), begging, crying, slight humiliation. These two know all the possible variations to missionary sex (sorry not sorry); biting; slightest, most delicate face slapping and grabbing; spanking; tattoo fetish; cumplay, mentions of cum eating. 

[Inspired by this look]

Here is my masterlist and check out my non-idols!AU (Partition update coming on Sat, Jan 23rd!!!) 

Remember to vote for next prompt (link in bio)!

And now, enjoy ✨💜

————————————

The entry door smashed loudly sometime around ten p.m., followed by the thud of a bag falling to the floor, Jeongguk’s heavy steps stopping as he took of his shoes.

The moment he appeared he looked unreal, with an oversized black shirt reaching his mid thigh, the sleeves exposing his forearms and part of his tattoos, his hair falling messily in wet curls over his forehead.

“Candy, babe?” He called from the entry. “I’m home!”

“Guk?” You called from the kitchen, your head peeking around the corner. He spotted you and smiled.

“What you doing there?” He said with a smile, sauntering towards you, standing at your side and placing a hand around your waist as you stood by the stove.

You turned and stood on your tiptoes, puckering your lips and closing your eyes.

He bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry I’m messy.” He said, close to your mouth.

“Are you fresh out of the gym?” You asked.

He nodded. “I haven’t even showered yet. I wanted to come home as soon as possible.” His fingers rubbed your side gently, trying not to tickle you. “I missed you a lot today.”

You smiled as you finished warming up his favourite post-workout snack. “I’ve already eaten. I thought you might be hungry.” You said, just as he stole the ladle and took a sip.

“Yum!” He commented, placing the utensil back in your hand. He stood behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I wanna hug you but I’m too sweaty.” He commented as he kneeled the tense muscles of your neck.

You shook your head. “Oh, these need to be washed,” you said, referring to your outfit. “We went to a bulgogi place today and I feel like I smell so bad.”

“You haven’t showered yet?” He asked, his hands slowing down, almost stopping.

“No… I switched on the tv and there was this interesting old interview with Miyazaki and I got caught up.” You explained with a cheery tone.

“The Japanese director and artist?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You confirmed, switching off the stove and pouring a couple ladles of noodles and broth in a bowl, adding some basic decorations on top.

He paused before wrapping an arm around your waist. “Can I hug you then?” He asked gently, almost too quietly for you to hear.

Still, there was no way you wouldn’t hear his voice. Sometimes you thought you could hear his very thoughts.

“Of course you can hug me, Guk.”

His body adhered to yours without hesitation, a low moan exiting his throat as he felt you sink even deeper into him, pressing into his body, almost trying to hide into him.

“I said I missed you.” He said shyly, waiting for you to praise him as he opened up about his emotions.

You were working through it, together, trying to make him open up more, offer you more of himself, of his feelings and fears.

“I missed you too, baby. I love you.” You spoke against his chest, taking in the clean and humid scent of his skin. He always smelled so good even after working out. Especially after working out.

Your hormones did a somersault.

“Today I felt very… restless.”

That was a very specific word for his emotional vocabulary. Lately, he was getting better and better, finding new words that fit his moods appropriately. His way of speaking was always plain, in the best meaning of the term. He is simple and transparent, always using basic words with great meaning. That seemed to be his style, pure and direct, honest.

However, he was growing a lot, even emotionally. He was slowly losing the adjective “young” that people normally put before the word “man” when trying to describe him.

He is a man. And an excellent one at that. Sure, a bit naive sometimes, and still shy, but he always showed a caring, attentive side whenever you tried to speak your needs and grievances within your relationship.

“Mh… What made you feel restless today?” You asked, repeating an exercise that your psychologist always made you do when you were a teen.

“We practiced a choreo all morning. And we always messed up the same part. There’s a very difficult transition and it’s just… so difficult to end up in the right position after the passage.” He said, huffing out loudly.

You thought about his food getting cold, still you knew that if you made him eat the conversation would quite surely stop. “Anything else, baby?” You asked, kissing his breastbone.

“We had a couple interviews this afternoon. One with a radio and another one with a talk show.” He said. “I’m glad that my English is improving. Namjoon hyung said he’s proud of me and that I did a good job.”

You heard the smile in his voice.

“Even Yoongi hyung said I did a good job. And he offered me a tangerine!” He said enthusiastically.

You rubbed his back. “We’re all proud of you, baby.” You said fondly.

“Thank you.” He replied and when you looked up at his face you saw his ears flush red.

“Time to eat, Koo.” You said, pressing your hands to the sides of his head, trying to calm down the blush.

He smiled.

He looked beautiful.

On your tiptoes, you kissed the mole under his lip, shortly before he picked you up by the waist and brought you at his eye level, your arms anchoring behind his neck as he pushed his mouth to yours. “Thank you.” He said again, that feeling in his chest getting more and more urgent.

He would say it. Just… Not now.

He had plans.

He took the bowl and a spoon in his hand, the other one staying around your back, pulling you to the table with him. First he placed down the objects and then he sat, still holding your hand, tugging at it gently and making you sit across his lap.

You giggled and adjusted yourself, your forearm moving behind him and securing you to his back.

He pecked your temple and thanked for the food quickly before digging in, slurping loudly and devouring the whole meal in eager, large spoonfuls.

“No one’s stealing your food, baby, don’t eat too fast.” You said, worried as he paused for a moment, only to take a few breaths and dig in again, finishing the bowl.

He placed down the spoon and rubbed his belly, exhaling with a satisfied grin.

You smirked. “Would you like some more?”

He shook his head no. “I wanna shower.” He said, placing the spoon in the bowl and handing both to you; but before you could protest, thinking he was asking you to tidy up, he moved one arm under your knees, the other around your shoulders, picking you up bridal style.

“Guk, for goodness’ sake!” You shrieked, trying to secure yourself with one arm, the other holding the bow.

“Trust me,” He said, “I’ve got you.” He reassured you, stopping in front of the sink and helping you place the bowl down. Next, he made you sit on the counter, “I need both hands free for this,” he said, picking up the pot and covering it with its lid before placing it back inside the fridge.

He would deal with that later.

“Come here,” he called, standing between your legs and picking you up again, his hands pressed to the back of your thighs. You pushed your nose against the soft hair of his nape. “Where are we going?” You asked, curious.

“Shower.” He said, reaching the room and placing you down near the sink in the dim light coming in from the window. He looked at the saffron gleam of the streetlights landing on the floor, cutting a thin, long stripe landing at your feet.

He took a step forward and stood in it, his black shirt immediately absorbing the light with a curious pattern of shadows that seemed to offer small outlines of the taut, solid muscles underneath.

Jeongguk stood there, fascinated with the way you looked at him, almost ready to hide his face in his hands before you traced the line of his collarbone, then up his throat, until you reached the deep darkness enshrouding his mouth.

“Would you take off your shirt?” You asked, cupping his jaw.

He nodded. “In a second.” He said, staring some more.

He would have never believed he looked at you the same way you looked at him, weren’t it for the picture that had become his new desktop wallpaper a few hours ago. Jin had sent him a picture of the night Jungkook had introduced you to the boys, a week after the two of you had reunited. In the picture, you were talking with Jimin and Taehyung, the older leaning into you as he laughed hysterically while the younger looked at you like you had hung the very stars in the sky. Sitting on the sofa, you glanced up at Jeongguk as he stood behind you with his hands on your shoulders, a large grin on his face and the warmest feeling glittering in his eyes, his ears bright as your own lips opened up in a soft smile.

And now he stood in front of you and you were gorgeous. And he felt so in love.

So desperate to touch you.

But you looked like a vision, a mirage ready to disappear like his unsteady feelings; like that ugly, lying voice could come up any moment and make his doubt you and himself, making him believe that he was incapable of understanding true love, that he had been fooled once and it was sweet like this at the beginning until all there was left was barren land and bitter dust.

He took off his shirt. You moved away the hand on his face before you got tangled up, giving him space until his naked torso was right in front of you.

“You’ve been getting skinnier.” You said, placing your hands on his pectorals. “You’ve lost weight?” You asked, cupping his face again.

“It’s why I’m exercising. It was hard to keep a routine while I was gone.” He explained, placing his hands around your wrists and pushing them down. “Am I not strong enough? Fit enough?” He asked once your hands were resting on his pectorals.

Your thumbs circled his nipples, making them harden immediately. “No, baby.” You argued, a bit disappointed. “I’m saying I wouldn’t mind if you slowed down with the gym and ate a tiny bit more.” You replied. “I love you. I don’t care about your looks, but you’re all bones and muscles. I don’t mind the flesh.” You said, pinching his belly and finding only skin between your fingers. “I’m saying I don’t want you to be so hard on yourself.” You explained before your hands travelled to the ribbon of his sweats.

“You want me to put on some weight?” He asked, incredulous.

“I just want you to be healthy and eat enough food to match your workouts, and do anything you want with your body without feeling pressured. True Army will love you with or without abs.” You raked your nails across his taut abdomen. “And I don’t care as long as I get to touch you like this. Or kiss you here.” You said, following the shape of his cock with a finger.

He smiled and blushed — which you couldn’t see, considering the dark room. What you did feel was his sex twitching and hardening some more. He moaned weakly, his head falling forward and landing on your shoulder. “You mean you care only about blowing me?” He asked, his hips pushing against your palm, his hair tickling your neck and ear, making you arch away from his sinfully messy mop of hair.

You cupped him from over his sweats, massaging him slowly, gently. “Let’s say it’s a pretty important factor in our relationship.” You joked, nuzzling your nose against his head.

“Mh...” He commented meditatively. “How important compared to your love for me?” He asked, mouthing at the underside of your jaw, chuckling and teasing it with the vibrations of his voice clad in a deep rumble and the thick, teasing accent of his dialect.

“Mh… they’re neck and neck for factor number one.” You teased back, tracing his happy trail with your index finger.

“Neck and neck, you say...” He mused, nipping at your throat harshly, making you gasp. “Let’s see what happens if I take it away from you.” He wondered as he took a step away, out of your grasp.

You tried to keep touching him until he was too far for you to reach.

“Hands to yourself, babe.” He scolded as you licked your lips, looking at him as he switched on the soft led from the shower, lowering it to a soft dark red. “Promise me you’ll keep your naughty fingers at bay.” He asked, taking one step toward you.

You nodded eagerly, “I promise. Please.” You begged, placing your palms flat on your thighs and waiting for him to come closer. Once more he stood between your legs, his hands catching your wrists and bringing your arms behind your back, indirectly making your spine arch forward and push your breasts up.

He stared unashamed at your curves, barely visible over the large cotton blouse. “Keep your hands there.” He said, his fingers starting at your buttons. “My turn.” He said, undoing enough buttons to reach the lower hem of your bra, his hands sliding into the opening and cupping your breast from the lower, outer part, pressing them together and planting his face right in the crevasse, making you laugh at the drastic way he dove in.

“You good there, Guk?”

He nodded simply. “God, if you’re listening, this is a good moment to die.” He commented gingerly. “Let my girlfriend’s tits be the last thing I see before I pass.” He went on. “Amen.”

The laughter overtook you, your whole body wiggling with giggles. “Admit it, you love my tits way more than you love me.” You said before realising that the joke didn’t work both ways: even though you had confessed your feelings, he hadn’t done so with an actual declaration yet.

“Neck and neck.” He replied, letting his feelings implicitly show with ambiguous confessions.

He drew the upper curve of each breast with small kisses while his fingers worked the buttons left. The moment he reached the last one, he undid it and raised his head, looking you in the eye for the longest, slowest seconds in the history of the universe. His lips collided with yours, pressure building and building until you separated, galaxies of feelings and sensations blooming in both of you.

His hands pushed the blouse off your shoulders, letting it slide to your wrists. Next, he moved the straps of your bra off your shoulders kissing the slope of your neck and collarbone slowly and leisurely on the left side, before turning to the other side and parting his lips, letting half an inch of his tongue hang from his mouth and trace the ridge of your collarbone, his fingers undoing the clasp of your bra. The garment slid lower, your breasts heavier now without the support of the small cage. “Are they sore?” He asked, kissing you under your ear before moving his hands to your forearms, freeing you from the shirt.

“A bit. It was hot outside today.” You paused. “And my period’s close.” You added, hoping he didn’t get embarrassed by the small statement.

He stayed silent for half a minute. “How close?” He asked, moving your arm to your front so he could remove one strap, then focusing on the other one, baring your torso completely.

“It should be… four or five days away.” You said after making a quick count.

He nodded before cupping your face and kissing your mouth. “Do you need me to stock anything in the house?” He asked, parting from your face and looking you in the eye? “Sanitary products, comfort food, anything?” He asked, his gaze so soft and caring you felt a string of your heart snap and break.

“I have those at home.” You said, combing his hair away from his face, the red light making his eyes even more intense, his lips even more tempting.

“You won’t be here on the weekend?” He asked, suddenly hesitant. “I know we met today because I called you and normally you prefer staying at your place on weekdays and coming over for the weekend; but I thought that meeting today wouldn’t mean I wouldn’t have the weekend.” He said, confused and a little bit sad. Even with the dim lights you could see the disappointed look on his face.

“I thought that since I had my per—”

“It’s not like I wouldn’t want to cuddle and sleep with you. You know I—” love you. “I don’t want only sex.” He said, frowning.

You noticed he grew increasingly upset, his teeth torturing his lower lip.

Can’t you just fucking say it, Jeon Jeongguk, for goodness’ sake! His brain snapped at him, but his heart stayed guarded and wary.

“Come here.” You said, opening your arms, and letting him barricade himself into your embrace, your chest hot against his, the late summer night making both your and his skin clammy. “I know you care about me.” You said, your hand sliding into the long locks of his nape. “I’m not used to this, Guk. You know how we did this before you left.”

“This is not before I left. This is now.” He said, his voice so insecure. “I want everything. The cuddles and the sex and the feelings and… all of it. I want to be there for you. Always.” He said, raising up, towering over you as hegave up on the protection of your arms and offered you the safety of his own. “I want you to count on me. To trust me and tell me when something’s wrong. I want to support you and protect you.” He said, more and more determined. “I want to be the one you want when you had a stressful day and you need to talk. I want your problems too, ____. I want the ugly bits too. I don’t want you to choose the parts that you think I can handle and offer those alone.” He patted your head before making you look at him. “I want everything, Candy. Every damn thing, baby. The good, the bad and the in between.” He bent to your ear and closed his eyes, leaning into you, pressing his forehead to your temple. “Will you let me be there for you, baby, please?” He asked, begging, holding the crown of your head with one hand and your waist with the other.

You nodded, almost too emotional. “Yes.” You replied simply before he pressed you to his chest, where his heart beat so loud you thought he would get a heart attack.

He placed both hands on your waist lifting you off the counter and placing you with your feet on the floor. “Take off your trousers and panties, Candy.” He spoke softly as he watched your hands slide down your sides dragging the garments all the way to your ankles before stepping out of them. He placed them in the basket with the dirty laundry.

“Your sweats,” you said, trying to reach for the waistband.

“No,” he said, getting undressed by himself.

Just like that, you stood naked in front of each other, his eyes focused on your face, your gaze laced with his.

“You're so beautiful.” He whispered, cupping the side of your neck before letting his hand skim your chest, the plumpness on your breast, the sensitive curve of your waist, his palm stopping at your hip before his fingers sunk into your flesh, his eyes following his hand with unbreakable focus.

Gently, he tugged you toward the shower, making you stop before entering. “Let me get the temperature right.” He said, opening the tap and waiting a little before the water turned warm. You stared at him as he tested the spray and dove under, small rivulets rolling down his body, following the curve of his back, drenching his hair and rolling down his cheeks as he rubbed his face with his hands.

“Come, babe.” Jeongguk said, stretching his hand toward you.

Biting your lip, you took a few steps before he moved out of the spray, hugging you before he took a small step back, your and his body both under the water. You simply pressed your mouth to the base of his throat while his hands made sure that your hair got properly wet before he could wash them.

Your hands moved down his back, from his shoulder blades to the small of his back, until you managed to reach the full roundness of his ass, massaging it slowly, comfortably.

He snickered. “Are you comfy there?” He asked, just as his hands reached your own ass and squeezed it. “Does that feel good?”

You nodded, the sound of the water drowning your small moan. “Let me.” You said, turning around and rubbing at your hair, making sure it was soaked.

His hands followed the curves of your body capturing your heavy breasts in his palms. He took a deep breath before he stretched to reach his body wash, pouring some in his palm and foaming it up before spreading it over your skin, the scent of his soap filling the space.

The lights were making it even more intimate, with the red-to-black spectrum tinging the experience in a variety of tones of eroticism. First and foremost, the mildest but most difficult of them all: intimacy.

Jeongguk placed his hands on your waist, making you turn around. You were there, with your hair pushed back, your beautiful face completely exposed to his observing stare. He couldn’t hold your gaze.

He poured more shower gel on his palm and after it turned into a small handful of bubbles he bent down and divided it between his hands, bending down and washing your legs, until he knelt, washing your feet.

“Guk.” You called shyly.

He hummed in reply, just as he took a gentler soap meant for your intimate parts. He pumped a dollop on his hand and foamed it briskly before cupping your vulva delicately, focusing on the simple, affectionate task at hand, making sure to spread your labia as you parted your legs slightly to let him have access. He rubbed the palm slowly, lightly against your skin, not sparing the back, in between your ass cheeks, waiting for the water to rinse his hands and clean you fully.

He felt ready.

His hands cupped your hips, holding tight without his fingers digging in, all the pressure focused on his palms.

He kissed your belly button.

“I love you.” He almost whispered.

You were far too lost in sensations to be sure that he had actually said what you thought you had heard.

“What?” You asked, looking down at him.

He delivered another small kiss on your tummy and looked up. “I love you, ____.” He said, before smiling timidly.

“You love me?” You asked, incredulous.

“Yes. I love you, Candy. A whole damn lot.” He said, kissing a straight line from your belly to your pubic bone, stopping there. “I wanna… Can I… Can I taste you?” He asked, waiting on his knees, removing his hands and mouth from you, letting you choose freely.

You looked at him before your mouth opened in the happiest, widest smile you had ever given him. “I love you, you know that, right?” You told him, touching his face, combing his hair back.

He nodded. “I love you too.” He said, and the more he said that, the more his body felt how right, how true it was.

“You wanna eat me out?” You asked as he nodded furiously.

You lifted a leg, ready to place it on his shoulder when he sat on his hip, then turned with his back to you, laying flat on the floor, his head away from the water spray.

Your brow furrowed before he tucked his elbows next to his torso, his hands close to his face before he grinned and wiggled his fingers in a “come forth” motion.

“Uhm…” You wondered, confused for a brief moment, trying to understand if he really meant for you to ride his face, especially since you were both still trying to understand the whole cunnilingus discourse.

“Sit on my face?” He asked, his cheeks blushing — which fortunately you couldn’t see with the current lighting, he considered.

Your eyebrows shot up. “You sure?” You asked.

“Pretty sure, yes. If you want to, of course.” He replied.

Slowly you lowered yourself to your knees, his hands circling your waist and heading up, up, until he met your breasts, before heading down again, fixing your hips right against his lips.

“I’m gonna start now, Candy.” He warned you, “you can ask me to stop whenever you want to, baby.”

“Wait!” You called. “Is it okay if I blow you?” You asked, pretty sure that it would be good for your mind space if you dedicated yourself to his pleasure, easing the mental pressure you felt whenever someone went down on you. After all, Jeongguk had been the first to make you cum during oral sex, and even with him sometimes you struggled reaching your high.

“You want to sixty-nine?” He asked, trying to comfort you by lacing his fingers with yours.

“I wanna try?” You asked. “Maybe it all works better if I’m not thinking about it too much. I could use a…distraction?” You explained, doubtful.

“Okay, let’s give this a go.” He replied, completely oblivious that the simple movements of his mouth as he spoke against your crotch were making your hole drip in wetness.

“Okay then!” You slowly lowered yourself on your elbows, his lips going on a slow side-to-side motion before he opened his mouth, his upper lip pressing against your entrance while his lower one met the sensitive nerve endings of your clit, making you moan just as his tip entered your mouth, your hand cupping his balls and sliding upwards, until you could grip him as comfortably as you could.

He released a heavy breath, the hot air meeting the raw skin of your slit. Just as his tongue made its way between your labia, you bobbed your head a couple times, making him moan loudly, which made you moan in return.

The whole situation turned into a game where the more you received, the more you gave.

As you started sucking him, creating a vacuum effect with your cheeks, his hands gripped your ass, his lips wrapping around your left labium, pumping it with his cheeks into his mouth, just past his teeth, that grazed it perfectly, alternating the softness of his lips and tongue with the hard edge of his teeth, making blood pool in the sensitive tissue. Meanwhile, on his lap, you were drooling all over him, pumping him with your fist as you started losing focus. “Guk.” You called.

He simply hummed and switched to the other side.

Yes, he was dedicated like that.

“Gu— Oh, yes, love, like that, baby, just like that.” You said as you felt his hands direct your hips in a grinding motion, your mouth returning between his legs out of sheer gratitude.

He moaned again, his eyelids fluttering with pleasure as you pushed his soft head to the back of your mouth, bobbing your head a few times before your hand started fondling his balls with your palm, twisting your wrist and using the pad of your thumb to tease the delicate spot between his balls and his anus.

He released your labium. “Candy. Fuck, baby, yeah, that a… I— I really like your finger there, baby.” He said, swallowing loudly before flicking the tip of his tongue repeatedly against your clit, spanking your ass brusquely before he gave a few strong pumps to your most sensitive spot.

You released his cock, letting it snap back to his belly and speaking against his shaft. “Please… Guk. Too good, love—” Your hips began to gyrate on him, his hands leading you, keeping your movements controlled so that he didn’t lose his grip between your legs. Holding his tongue rigid and still, he pushed the tip to the underside of your clit, dragging it up and exposing the most sensitive nerves, usually protected by the hood and way too sensitive for direct stimulation. Which is exactly why after two minutes your body stilled before starting to shake uncontrollably with effort, your whole universe silent, holding its breath before your lips opened in a high pitched, incoherent cry that announced your orgasm and predicted your reckless, ruthless movements on top of Jeongguk.

He took everything in.

Every small thing.

He kept moving his tongue even as it cramped, slapping your ass shamelessly, violently, spurring you into a wilder, more desperate pace as you — completely oblivious to your raw knees — rode him with a passion, pulling him into your mouth once more to quiet down your moans.

You felt your legs shake even more as his hips started pushing into your mouth, his long hums turning into short, deep groans and whimpers.

Just as you felt his balls tighten, you drew away, making him whine and arch his hips toward you.

“Please…” He called, his voice so, so miserable and pleading.

“You want your orgasm?” You asked, voice sultry.

You precisely knew what you wanted. And you had very clear plans on how to get it just right.

You looked right in front of you, at the small bathroom carpet laying just outside the shower, ready for you to dry your feet. Your escape route was bright and clear in front of your eyes.

“Does it feel nice?” You asked, un-straddling his face, acting as if you had each and every intention to bring him to the very edge and watch him dissolve.

“Please, Candy...” He cried, his hips undulating hypnotically.

“You wanna cum?” You cooed cutely.

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah… Please.”

You stopped. “Then come get me, bunny boy.” You grinned and stood, exiting the shower with a long step, shaking the water off your body as you rubbed your feet against the carpet a few times, before dashing for the door.

Alone, he opened his eyes and raised his head, looking around. “Candy?” He called again.

No sign.

He shook his head and stood up, his erection painful and uncomfortable as he closed the tap and walked out of the shower, drying his feet harshly as he switched off the bathroom lights and exited the room, looking around, spotting a trail of droplets on the floor.

He sneered and swore, staring at his hard on and clenching his jaw as he walked down the corridor with quick, long steps.

He found you as you tried to hide in the walk-in closet, almost sure you were unfollowed the moment you moved on all fours and tried to crawl under a lower shelf.

Jeongguk smirked, the scene disgustingly hilarious to him as he grabbed your hips and pulled you out of your hiding spot.

“That’s your plan?” He asked just as you tried to wiggle out of his grip.

His fingers dug into your waist, grabbing you even harder as he dragged you away from the shelf, where you could hit your head.

“You’re ridiculous.” He said, putting you on your feet before he turned you around and hoisted you over his shoulder, spanking you unceremoniously. “Running on wobbly legs.” He spanked you again. “Leaving a pretty trail of water leading me right here.” Another spank. “I thought I had taught you better than this.” He said, offering you some mercy and biting your leg instead of smacking your ass.

Your world was very unstable as he began walking you to his bedroom. He threw you on the mattress and switched on the led light behind the headboard. Again your view became nothing but the sultriest black and red.

“You wanted to make me angry?” He asked, looking you in the eye as he climbed on top of you, spreading your legs and sitting in between before both his arms caged your head.

His chest, wet and toned, was right before your eyes, moving with the fury of a wild beast. He grabbed your chin and led your gaze upward, into his. “I said, you wanted to make me angry?” He repeated.

You nodded.

“You wanted to make me snap?” He asked again, grabbing your face, making your lips turn into a silly pout.

You nodded once more. “I am—”

“I’ll tell you what you are.” He said, getting off you, opening his drawer and taking out a towel and a plastic bottle, which he placed on the bedside table before he lifted your legs with one arm and laid the towel down with the other.

You stayed silent as he took his time.

“You are a ridiculous little fuckdoll.” He stated clearly, no lips, no stutter, no hesitation whatsoever. “You are my dumb little fuckdoll,” he went on opening the bottle and letting a heavy amount of lube draw a line from the base to the tip as he held his cock away from his belly with his thumb and forefinger running around the glans. He spread the slick liquid with his palm, sliding it up and down as he hissed. “You always need to act like a dumb brat to make me fuck you like a slut.” The moment he leaned over you and poured some lube on your cunt too, you knew you were in for a long night. He closed the lid of the bottle but kept it nearby, in case he needed more.

You were close to your period, and once you had mentioned that you had some issues getting wet because of hormones changing. He was glad you gave him that kind of notions too. He had so much to learn still.

“You want me to fuck you hard?” He asked, spreading the wetness between your legs.

You nodded wordlessly.

“Not so wordy anymore, are we?” He said, cocking an eyebrow.

“Please, Guk.” You whimpered.

“That’s my little slut. You need to be fucked, uh?” He asked again, making you beg for him.

“Jeongguk, please.” You called again, pleading for his cock inside you.

“She even says ‘please’. Aren’t you desperate?” He asked, rubbing his tip up and down your slit.

“Yes, I’m your desperate doll. I’m begging… Please—” You whimpered, opening your legs as far as they would go.

He tutted and snarled. “Oh no. You’re not my desperate doll. You’re my desperate fuckdoll.” He said with a smirk. “Say it.”

“I’m your desperate fuckdoll.” You repeated with a thin voice.

He nodded “That’s right,” he replied, rewarding you with the tip of his cock as he swore and let it stay inside you, helping you get used to it — still, he grit his teeth, his deltoids and trapezei bulging with the effort. His tattooed hand held his cock to your entrance, covered in slick, helping you as he fed you a small inch at a time.

The moment he looked up at you, you noticed the lack of harshness in his eyes. “Are you okay, Candy?” He asked just as you hissed out a ‘yes’, closing your eyes and biting your lower lip. “Can I move?” He asked again, at which you nodded energetically. He giggled. “I love you, bae.” He concluded, making you whisper a brief ‘love you’ in reply before his bad boy persona came back into play.

“So you want it hard, uh?” He asked, feeling his cock already pulsate inside you.

“Yes, hard and fast, Guk. Please. I’m your fuckdoll. Do me like your little cocksleeve, please.” You begged, whiny and weak.

“Like my cocksleeve?” He said, rolling his hips twice before he pulled out. His hand drew away from his sex and moved to your mouth, laying there gently. “Cocksleeves don’t make a sound.” He leaned towards your ear. “So you’d better stay quiet.”

Your eyes blew wide as you bit your lip and furrowed your brow, his cock sinking in your flesh so hard that the smash echoed through every single organ inside your body.

You laid there and admired him as he fucked himself inside you, biting his lower lip and releasing it slowly, letting it roll and snap forward, past his teeth. He switched his position, leaning on his hand rather than on his elbow, arching even further, spreading his legs wider, propping his weight on his knees for better leverage, using his thighs to push your legs further apart as his eyes closed, chilly droplets of water falling on your face and your chest as he hammered into you, the tendons of his neck growing taut, his veins pulsing and growing and showing even in the dim red light.

Your high was there, right there, right…

Jeongguk roared, loud and aggressive and so, so angry that he sat on his heels and gripped your hips, shoving you on his length on and on, his hips meeting your body with loud smacks as he released inside you.

“No, no no. No, please no, please—” you begged as you felt him slow down, “So… close…” You sobbed as he stopped entirely.

He placed you down on the mattress. “Oh, no...” He said with faux compassion. “Poor cocksleeve.” He said with a sadistic grin, his smirk almost demonic in the crimson light.

He caged you with his body, his arms bulky and delicious at each side of your head, several rivulets of water — or maybe sweat — sliding down his face and chest. “Cocksleeves don’t get to cum, do they?” He asked rhetorically.

You whimpered and tried to squeeze him with your inner muscles.

“Or maybe I could be generous… Offer you another round…” He wondered, kissing your lips. “Would you like that?” He asked.

“Please. So close,” you whispered, chasing his mouth with yours.

He stretched and grabbed his pillow from the headboard, sliding an arm under your hips and lifting them up, placing the pillow right under your ass. “Do you need more lube, Candy?” He checked in on you, at which you shook your head.

“I just need you inside.” You replied miserably.

He pouted and got in position, cupping your jaw and sliding his thumb in your mouth. “Take it,” he said, his right hand pushing his cock in, only barely softened. Once he sank in and gave two tentative rolls of his hips, any sort of softness disappeared.

“Like this?” He asked, his nose curled adorably and sexily at the same time as his face scrunched at the effort of slow, deep thrusts.

You purred and shook your head. “Faster, harder… please.” You moaned before he started going even slower.

He chuckled. “What do I get in exchange for it?”

You opened your eyes and bit into his arm delicately. “Please,” you pleaded again. “I’m—” A tear rolled down your face. “It’s too good, let me cum, please, I love you. I’m your fuckdoll, Guk, please let me— I’ll be so tight around you, I’ll milk your cock so good, let me cum.”

He loved when you grew wobbly-lipped and teary-eyed. He loved seeing how desperate you always were for him, how much you depended on him for your pleasure.

He collected one of your tears with his lips, “are you crying for my cock?” He asked, wicked as usual.

You shook your head yes. “More, I’m begging you, Jeongguk. I’m begging you. I’m…” In an act of pettiness, you turned completely quiet, trying to rebel against him and his oversized ego. Self-sufficiently, your hands went to your boobs, grabbing them, pinching your nipples, sometimes climbing up to your throat and pressing against it softly.

He swatted your hand away, bending his mouth to your breast, tugging and suckling at your nipple messily, just as his arm grabbed your right knee and hooked it at his elbow, pushing your leg up, the angle so irresistible that your high finally peeked from around the corner. Still you stayed silent — mouth open, but quiet.

“Candy?” He called, curious about your sudden lack of noise.

You furrowed your brow and looked at him.

He tutted at himself. “Hard and fast?” He asked again.

You didn’t react. He rolled his hips deeper, hitting the spot you loved so much. Another tear spilled from your eye, but you proudly kept your stoic approach.

He smirked and started going faster, now that he had found the spot.

A small hiccup escaped your mouth.

“There we go, Candy.” He said, finally sure of his decision as he started pounding into you with everything he had in himself. “Touch your boobs, Candy.” He suggested as he saw you grow closer and closer. “So messy for this cock, uh? Whose is the best cock, Candy?”

“Yours.” You sobbed, your hips beginning to stutter, trying to meet his thrusts but too weak and sensitive for that.

“That’s right. You love this cock, Candy, don’t you?” He asked again.

“Only yours. I do, yes, please, Guk. Jeong— Guk, please I—” Your body thrashed against his as your orgasm finally caught you and drew you under.

Jeongguk’s head dove for your breastbone, pressing there as he tried to resist your high, currently threatening to drag him with itself.

As your climax persevered, he pushed your leg over his shoulder, picking up the other one too, sinking so deep with the new angle, his mouth kissing your calf, the inner side of your knee. “Is it good enough, baby?” He asked as he saw your eyes slowly flutter open.

Fuck, his jaw line was impeccable with that angle. “It’s perfect, Guk.”

“Nice, can you take another round, love?” He asked and damn, that nickname made you say yes, yes, ten thousand times yes with no hesitation.

He pushed his thumb in your mouth, against your tongue.

“I need to touch you.” He said, watching as his finger emerged drenched from your lips, immediately bringing it to your clit.

“Can you lift your ass?” He asked right as you obeyed, the angle so deep that he slowed down specifically to make sure he could guarantee you one more orgasm before he achieved his own.

His thumb replicated the motion of his tongue earlier in the shower, teasing the tender underside of your clit just as your eyes closed—

Too intense. Too much, you thought as your breathing slowed down again, your whole body focused on your kegels.

“Give me another… Work your magic, cockfairy.” He teased as your lips parted, your eyes flashing open before slowly, messily crossing and sliding shut again, your body too confused and overwhelmed to give a verbal reaction.

Jeongguk kept going, so, so close, his hips digging deeper with tiny rolls focused on staying in, enjoying every tight squeeze you had to offer, your hands leaving your breast as you tried to slap his hand away from your clit while his teeth began teasing your calf on one side, his deep moans unstoppable even when he turned to the other side and actually nibbled on your leg, his hand persistent in his torture.

“No. Oh god! Please. No! Oh— I need to— Yeah, yes...” You hissed as Jeongguk finally crumbled against your body and delivered the last few thrusts, deep, slow, so destructive as your head tipped back, your final high too much for your body to handle.

He looked down, where your bodies joined and with a loud growl, he came apart and spilled inside you, his cock swelling intermittently for so long he almost worried at some point. But the softness of your breasts, pillowing his head, and the warmth of your breath fanning over his head, your legs sliding off his shoulders, to his waist while your arms circled his back. “I love you, Candy. So damn much. I’m so in love with you baby.” He repeated on and on, trying to make up for each slur, each degrading word and idea he had used against you.

“I love you, baby.” He repeated again. “I love every little thing of you.” He kissed your breast — even though he truly aimed at the heart beating underneath. “I don’t want just the sex. You get it now?” He asked, nuzzling his hair against your bosom.

You caressed his head fondly.

“I get it now, of course, love.” You reassured him.

“You’ll lean on me, right? You’ll count on me?” He asked insecure, afraid at how many things he still had to learn about adult, mature relationships.

“I’ll lean on you. We’ll lean on each other.” You said, kissing his forehead as he raised his head.

“We didn’t finish the shower…” He mused, pulling out of your entrance carefully, staring as his seed dripped out of you and down your thigh.

You looked at his mesmerised expression.

He bit his lip before releasing it with a snap. “Fuck, you’re dripping.” He said before looking up.

And you don’t know if it was for the hot sight of his tattooed arm flexing, for his mop of damp long curls, for his wide, taut pectorals, for his lips glistening in drool or the dark lust in his eyes as he saw the mixture of his seed and your wetness oozing from your cunt, but you decided you were far from having enough.

“Didn’t they teach you to clean after yourself?” You teased with a cocked eyebrow.

His eyes climbed all the way to your gaze, finding the silent permission he was looking for.

And he dove for your cunt like a starving wolf.

[quazartranslates]

Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH61

**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**

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Chapter 61: Purgatory Reunion (XIII)

It was dawn.

There was no sun in the Underground Ant City, but Qi Leren still knew by intuition that it was dawn.

Looking at the time again, it was 7:20 in the morning. If he was training with Chen Baiqi, it would be too late. If he left for her place at this time, he would definitely receive the "loving care" of the three-headed hellhound. But for a person who was on a rare vacation, this hour was still too early.

Actually, he could sleep for a while, but... Qi Leren sat up from the bed. Now that he was awake, it was better to make some breakfast for Ning Zhou. The living room here was connected to the kitchen.

Thinking this, Qi Leren jumped out of bed, put on clothes in a hurry, and came to the bedroom door. After a pause, he rubbed his hands and gently turned the door handle, ready to tiptoe out.

As soon as the door opened, the smell of fried eggs filled Qi Leren's nose. He paused and looked straight into the kitchen.

Freshly brewed hot coffee sat on the table, as well as hot sausages and slices of bread. When Ning Zhou heard the sound of the door opening from where he was frying eggs, he looked back at him, smiled, and said, "Good morning."

"Morning." Qi Leren felt that he was still dreaming.

Dreaming... Speaking of which, he seemed to have had a dream last night, but when he thought about it now, he can't remember anything, except that it was a beautiful dream.

Ning Zhou skillfully put the fried eggs on the plate with a spatula, and Qi Leren quickly walked past and picked up the plate to give him a hand.

It wasn’t the first time that Qi Leren saw Ning Zhou cooking. Before the end of the undercover mission with the Slaughter Secret Society and the start of the Holy Nun’s task, he and Ning Zhou had briefly lived together for a while, as it was for the convenience of Ning Zhou training him. At that time, the two people who had had a crush on each other but sought only to endure it tacitly avoided many topics, and even deliberately avoided each other in many cases. The scene of eating together in silence at dusk was still filled with a different kind of warmth.

Restraint ran through this relationship. Even if they had confessed their feelings, they were still restrained.

When you like someone, you can be presumptuous, because the impulse comes so warmly that people get carried away and act rashly. You may even forget to think, and let your instincts dominate you to express your feelings freely, but you don't think whether it will hurt the person you like. Because at that time, you just want it.

However, when you fall in love with someone and want to spend your whole life with him, you lose your courage, become timid, and be swayed by considerations of gain and loss. You start to restrain yourself, learn to pull out the spikes one by one, express your love gently, and don't use the excuse of "love" to hurt your loved one. Because at this time, you want forever.

"I'll brush my teeth first!" Qi Leren put the plate on the table and rushed into the bathroom. He spent one third of the usual time brushing his teeth and didn't wash his face, because he didn't want Ning Zhou to wait too long, but he carefully observed himself in the mirror and combed his messy hair with a wet comb.

After several tens of seconds, Qi Leren sat upright at the dining table with a knife and a fork in hand, and ate breakfast happily.

Qi Leren was not used to this kind of western breakfast. When he was young, his mother often went out to film, and his father threw him a few dollars irresponsibly to buy breakfast for himself. He usually bought youtiao when he was sent away. When his mother was at home, his father would use 18 kinds of cooking skills, from Cantonese-style refreshments to northern noodles, never making the same thing in the same month. The only thing he never made was Western-style breakfast. Qi Leren, who depend on their mother to eat and drink, had no opinion on breakfast at all, and had been used to this for more than 20 years.

The western-style breakfast was a bit too greasy for him, which made his stomach accustomed to youtiao uncomfortable. However, this was made by Ning Zhou, and Qi Leren not only ate it all, but also praised it with a smile. Because of his outstanding acting skills, Ning Zhou didn't see that he was reluctant.

Looking at Ning Zhou's happy appearance, Qi Leren felt willing to act all his life.

After breakfast, they went to the Trial’s Ant City headquarters, which was disguised as a small auction house, where people were busy and didn’t pay much attention to others. Celia, the contact person in charge of the whole branch’s affairs, had stayed up all night. The smell of black coffee was all over the office. She added sugar to it and smiled bitterly: "I sent someone to interrogate Kathleen overnight. I dug up a lot of news."

"What news?" Qi Leren’s spirits rose as soon as he heard it, and he took Ning Zhou and sat down.

"After Kathleen escaped from the Village of Dusk, considering her demon identity, she chose the Underground Ant City where humans and demons live together as her foothold. As luck would have it, an old lover from her early years happened to run an industry for Witches of Greed in the Underground Ant City, so she settled down there. After the Illusionist disappeared, we investigated his whereabouts. He had been to this casino before going to the Dragon Ant Queen’s royal palace. A gambler saw him and was very impressed with him. Later, our informant reported this matter and went to the gambler to verify it, and then disappeared in the underground casino. Kathleen admitted that the informant was in her hands. After torturing the informant who was looking for the Illusionist, she put the underground casino on watch, and then met you while you were investigating while in disguise."

"So, there’s still no news on the Illusionist?" Qi Leren frowned.

"Yes, we still don't know why he went to that underground casino." Celia was also very troubled. "But it’s certain that he eventually disappeared in the Queen Dragon Ant’s palace."

"Last time, you said that entering the palace required the Prophet's decree?" Qi Leren asked.

Celia nodded. "I also wrote about you in the second request, and I will have an answer next week. Until then... I don't have the power to make such a big decision."

Although Celia was in charge of all the Village of Dusk’s affairs in the Underground Ant City, after all, she only acted on the orders of the Prophet. When it came to the Dragon Ant Queen, who was also a field-level master, she had no right to make decisions.

Qi Leren didn't know about the delicate relationship between field-level masters. He didn't even know how many field-level masters there were in the whole Nightmare World—he vaguely remembered that had Su He mentioned it in those days, but now he wouldn't even believe even Su He’s punctuation marks.

"The Dragon Ant Queen, what news is there?" Ning Zhou suddenly asked.

Celia hesitated and shook her head gently. "There is no news... I'm afraid this is the best news. She’s now in the stage of rebirth, and after this... "

It meant that the queen who had dominated the Underground Ant City for more than 20 years would die and give her authority to the new queen.

What kind of attitude would the new queen hold towards humans and demons? Was it closer to the side of humans or demons? Would she expand the Underground Ant City’s sphere of influence, or would she pay more attention to stability and peace in her own field? Which Devil King would she follow? All these were related to the existence of the Underground Ant City in the next ten or twenty years, and people living here were greatly concerned about this problem.

Among the successive Dragon Ant Queens, a few were friendly to human beings. During those times, human beings gained a high status, but most of the time, the Dragon Ant Queens were not friendly to human beings—she would tolerate human beings living in her sphere of influence, but that's all.

"What method is the Dragon Ant Queen’s field passed down through? Is there any idea?" Qi Leren asked curiously. He had learned some things from the intelligence materials, but the method of inheritance was a complete secret.

Celia shook her head. "Most fields decline with the death of their owners, and they will die out in a few decades. There’s a special inheritance method in the Holy See, where the Pope’s field has been perfectly passed down through the ages."

Was the Pope's field Neverland? Qi Leren secretly took a look at Ning Zhou and was caught red-handed.

"The method of condensation is different," Ning Zhou said.

Qi Leren seemed to understand. He knew that Ning Zhou once condensed more than a half-field with the Holy See’s method, but the half-field had been very fragile, and it was broken before it condensed into a field. But now...

He should have condensed the field again, as evidenced by what had happened in the underground casino yesterday.

He would look for an opportunity to talk about this problem in depth with Ning Zhou. He really cared too much about his own force. This evil force brewing destruction meant endless pain for him.

"Oh, as well, I’ve investigated the things that you asked me to, but there are some questions..." Celia took a sip of coffee and explained the matter.

Ashley, Mrs Kathleen's subordinate, had been missing for a month. She could still feel that her subordinate existed, but she couldn't feel where he was. A surprisingly evil force cut off her connection to him.

"She also said that she had once met someone who looked like Ashley. At that time, he was fighting fiercely with a man wielding a tangdao, but she couldn't see clearly because they were too far away. After they left, she took a look at the scene, and there were broken walls. Therefore, Kathleen thinks that she must have seen wrong. Although her subordinate is clever and considerate, his strength is average and it would be impossible for him to fight with such a powerful master," Celia said.

Qi Leren didn't quite agree: "Didn't she say that her subordinate was controlled by an evil force? Maybe it's something like a seed of slaughter?"

"This is also possible, but according to Kathleen's tone, the level of those two people was more than that of someone who’s been parasitized. Moreover, so many days have passed, and there probably aren’t many valuable clues left there, " said Celia.

"Is there anything we can do for you now?" Qi Leren asked.

"With the matters of the Illusionist, we can only wait for the Court’s reply. Other affairs are handled by special personnel. If you have time, you may wish to help us go to the place where Mrs. Kathleen mentioned that she thought she saw Ashley." Celia smiled and looked at them expectantly.

Qi Leren and Ning Zhou exchanged a look, silently reaching an agreement.

-----

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[sunnysviolin]

currently having so many thoughts about aubrey getting sick of her moms mess one day and packing her bunny into her carrier and just leaving... she drifts about friends houses for a while before basil braves up to ask if she's okay :(( she's all out of energy + too stubborn to go home so she doesn't bother arguing and lets him take her to see polly (sorry me again with aubrey ramblings pls tell me to shush if you dont vibe w it)

Wow....I love this so much so I’m gonna combine it with that ask I got the other day and noodle on this a bit. Hope you don’t mind me taking your idea and running nonnie!!!

This got really long and kind of intense, so I’m putting it under a Read More. There’s also gonna be way more ahead!! This AU has caught me. But y’all Serious warning for emotional child abuse and neglect. Aubrey’s mother is decidedly not a good person, and their relationship is very damaged. Read only if you know you mentally can handle it, and no shame in skipping this. This part of it is heavy.  TW: Child abuse and neglect. TW: Alcoholism TW: Running Away TW: Homelessness

In the end it’s the rain that does it. The rain, the drafts in their weary old house, and the bucket that sits in the corner of her room next to her half broken laundry basket

On the last night Aubrey spends in her mother’s house the rain is coming down in freezing icy sheets. It’s bitterly cold, and she is weary. 

The summer of her 16th year has come and gone, and they are firm into the grip of September. It was a summer that had changed everything in her life. A summer where she found her way back to her chosen family, while becoming more isolated than ever from her real family. She had spent almost every hour out of the house- riding scooters with her gang, reconnecting with Basil, finding her way back into Kel’s loyal heart, letting her walls down around Hero, even discovering a hidden strength within her to forgive Sunny.  

It was the best summer of her life, even beating out the perfect summers spent in her childhood with Mari. In those days Aubrey had been naive. She didn’t know what she had, she just assumed she would always have it. This summer she had seen every experience for what it was- a gift. 

Fall coming had been difficult. Really almost nothing had changed, except it had. 

Hero had gone back to college, promising to visit at every chance he could. Aubrey had pushed down the spike of jaded denial that had risen up inside her at his words, and put her arm around Kel who was misty eyed saying goodbye to his brother. 

Sunny had spent most days in Faraway at either Kel or Basil’s house over the summer, but now he only came on weekends. He had started school again, a new school where no one knew his name or his face. He didn’t say much about it, but he hadn’t stopped going yet, so Aubrey considered it progress.

Kel and Basil had stuck close to her, and she was thankful for it. Aubrey knew now that nothing would ever separate the five of them again, but there was still the irrational fear inside of her that they would all leave her sooner or later. Her gang must’ve seen something too, because they had been awkwardly affectionate in a way that both irritated and comforted her.

But her mother....

Her mother had changed too. 

By sixteen Aubrey knew her mothers rhythms like the back of her hand. She knew the cycles that played out. Her mother would circle through various moods- cleaning, ignoring, depressing, drinking, regretting, promising, and then cleaning again. 

The regularity of it all had numbed her to the terrible conditions of her childhood home, and Aubrey spent most of her time out of the house anyway. (She had never been so grateful for nine hours at school, four hours after school goofing off in a big group, and the usual invitation to dinner with Polly or Kel’s mother. Aubrey usually only went home to sleep these days)

But her mother had added and taken away from her cycle. There was a new cycle now, and it was impossible to deal with. 

Ignoring, Depressing, Drinking, Angry, Regretting. Rinse and Repeat. 

Angry was new. Angry was (terrifying)....Angry was new. 

Aubrey had never tried to disrupt her mother’s cycle before, but Angry was enough to get her to try. She would clean the house top to bottom, putting in an effort she had never put in before to make things nice. She had thrown away bottles, cleaned dishes, cooked food, on and on all in an effort to change what she knew was coming. It still came. Her mother still wailed like a banshee, shrieking and hollering loud enough neighbors had called. 

The calls were the worst part. The low humiliation that sat in her stomach as she assured these people who didn’t really care that everything was fine, all while her mother continued to scream in the background. 

With Angry, Regretting was also different too. Aubrey, never one to take things lying down, screamed back until angry tears burst from her eyes. She would break down and sob in front of her mother, her walls finally ripped apart brick by brick by the woman who was supposed to love her most. 

Then her mom would hold her tight and promise things would be different. Regretting had mixed with Promising, and as much as Aubrey wanted to shove away the confusing affection, she couldn’t bring herself to. 

Screaming at each other was the only time that Aubrey’s mother looked at her. Curled in her mother’s arms weeping was the only time that her mother had a kind word. Aubrey couldn’t resist what she always craved, and some sick twisted part of her even longed for the point where her mother would snap and start yelling, just because she knew the release of emotions was soon to follow. 

That last night in her house was one of those nights. Her mother was yelling, too incoherent for Aubrey to even make out the words, but the tone said everything. Her mother had lost it over the dishes in the sink piling up. Aubrey had done them this morning, yet somehow she came home to a sink full of chipped dirty dishes. Those dishes felt like an ironic symbol of her life. No matter how many times she wiped it away. The dishes would be dirty the second she turned around. 

Aubrey was already in tears, her fists bunched at her sides and her teeth grinding down against each other. Soon enough it would be time for her to start yelling back, and the cycle would go on and on and on. The dishes would never be clean. 

Aubrey didn’t want it to go on. Not even her mother holding her was worth how torn apart her heart was becoming. She fled upstairs, slamming the door to attic and locking it tight. It didn’t matter anyway. By this point of drinking, her mother could barely stand, let alone climb a ladder. 

The rain was slamming against her windows, a steady drip already starting in the bucket in her room. It was freezing cold, and goosebumps rose on her bare arms. Maribelle was sitting in her pen, her nose twitching as she watched her Aubrey. Aubrey brushed at her damp cheeks and picked her bunny up, snuggling the tiny white creature close to her chest. 

Maribelle was too cold. Her mother hadn’t paid the heating bill again. The rain was too loud, and the wind sneaking in wrapped Aubrey in a tight grip. Aubrey sat on the edge of the bed and rocked her bun, trying in vain to warm them both up. A single thought ran through her head over and over

This wasn’t worth it. This wasn’t worth the love she craved from a woman who couldn’t give it. This wasn’t worth her pride at keeping things together. This wasn’t worth trying to fix over and over with no results. 

The rain began to slow to a quieter drizzle. Her mother was silent below. In the cold wet of her tiny attic room, Aubrey decided. 

No. This really just...wasn’t worth it. 

Aubrey slipped onto her knees, keeping Maribelle close as she pulled her backpack towards her and began to empty it out. She kept only her English textbook and her history notes. Everything else she could get a spare of. in her bag went two spare shirts and one pair of jeans. She packed in underwear and socks into the smaller front pouch. Aubrey stood and pulled the false bottom out of her desk drawer, taking the cash and the pack of cigarettes she had pinched off her mom and throwing them in as well. 

Finally there were the pictures. The frame of her photo of her and Kim had to be abandoned, but the actual picture was placed carefully inside her backpack. She had never been more happy to have her tiny carrier for Maribelle. The bunny happily hopped inside and burrowed deep in the soft downy blanket Aubrey put inside for her. 

It was depressingly easy to pack up her important things. Shockingly simple to write a note to her mother (I’m leaving. I’m not coming back. Two short sentences and that was it) It hadn’t even been hard to sneak out. After the hour or so it took to gather the rest of her necessities from the house and steal whatever money was in her mother’s purse, said woman had passed out on the couch in an alcoholic haze. 

Aubrey locked the door and stared at the silver key gleaming in her palm. She had only her backpack, a messenger bag, and her tiny bunny carrier. Her whole life fit into two bags. Aubrey left her key on the doorstep. 

She wouldn’t need it anymore. 

The rain had let up, but a harsh breeze whipped around her as she walked, pushing Aubrey to move faster. She took the sidewalks she had taken since she was little, letting her feet move as her mind went blank. Before she knew it she was standing on another street, one more familiar to her than her own. 

Aubrey spared a long look at Kel’s hosue. The lights were on inside, bathing their front yard in a warm golden glow. She stared at it for a moment, considering, and then the chill became too great. 

Aubrey bypassed Kel’s house and quietly snuck into the backyard of Sunny’s old home. The elderly couple that owned the house now was sure to be asleep. Kel said that they were quiet and almost never noticed anything going on. Perfect. 

Aubrey knew exactly where she was going. It was still standing. Faded and beaten down, probably rickety too, but it would be safe for her and her Belle. 

Besides only four other people even knew this treehouse existed. No one would ever find her here. 

[angelic-kisses13]

Haven’t Forgotten You

Warnings: Angst, Assumed Cheating, Swearing, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Happy Ending

Authors Note: Sorry it took me so long @beyond-antares​, its been a very very bad couple of weeks. Hopefully this is what you wanted, if it isn’t let me know and I will write you another. Much love!!!

‘Hey.’  You frowned as you looked at the text you had sent Henry early this morning. It wasn’t often that you got jealous or insecure but it had been two weeks since you last had a conversation with him. It was beginning to eat at you and you weren’t sure what you should do to remedy it. 

Two weeks was a long time for both of you, especially when you knew he was only an hour away shooting. He was supposed to come home for the weekends, had made the plans and everything, but when the weekend finally came around, you were disappointed. 

He had his secretary email you, saying he couldn’t make it because of some issues with the contract. It wouldn’t have bothered you if he had sent that email that morning. But instead, you had gotten up, went and got your hair and nails done. You had bought a brand new set of lingerie and you had even gone out of your way and watched a youtube video on how to do a bold look with your makeup. All to have yourself sit in your living for two hours, the special dinner you had cooked for Henry went cold on the dining room table. The fact he hadn’t bothered to contact you was the icing on the cake. 

You knew he loved you, but it was times like these that you questioned just how much. He could get so carried away with his characters and his fans and you loved that about him. But you were here too, you wanted to at least be in his top five list of important things. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. You bit your lip as you threw your phone onto the couch, not even caring where it landed. If he didn’t want to talk to you then that was fine. There was plenty here for you to do. 

Two hours later and you found yourself curled up in your bed, a batch of cookie dough in your lap and a tv show playing in the background. You had been scrolling through your Instagram when you saw it. Your throat tightened and you struggled to hold back the fierce stab of pain and betrayal. Henry was stood in front of a restaurant, his arms around a tall beauty, his award-winning smile on display. The other woman was in heaven, her head was turned up towards him, a smitten smile on her lips, her arms wrapped around his back, and one hand resting on his chest in an intimate caress. Looking up at the name that had posted it you saw that it was the same girl in the photo. Apparently, she had a friend hide and take the picture as they were leaving. 

She had the gal to mention you and Henry both in the post, claiming how happy she was to finally go on the date with him. You could feel your chest tighten and your breaths started coming in shallow pants. 

Your eyes filled with tears as you set the bowl of cookie dough aside, your hands shaking in fear. Was she why he hadn’t been messaging you the last two weeks. Had he finally realized that he deserved better? He had hadn’t he? It all made so much sense. He was done with you and knowing the heart of Henry he couldn’t handle telling you face to face. You must have been missing the subtle clues the whole damn time. 

‘God, how stupid could you get?’  

It wasn’t long before your phone started lighting up with messages from friends and family. All wondering why you weren’t with Henry. All asking who the other woman was. You didn’t have answers, you were in the dark just as much as they were. What you did have the answers to though, was the fact that Henry was with another girl and you weren’t going to stay and find out why. 

Just as you were grabbing your clothes from the closet your phone rang. It was Henry’s ringtone, it was the first song you two ever slow danced to. In fact, it happened downstairs, Henry had made you dinner and had found an old swing record, turned out the swing record was a slow instrumental. He had been so disappointed but you had loved it, you had grabbed his hands and pulled him to you, just barely managing to not trip over Kal who had run between the two of you. Henry’s arms wrapped around you, encasing you in his warmth. 

Blinking, you were brought back to the present when the phone stopped ringing. You bite your lip as you try to decide if you should call him back or not. The decision was made for you when it started ringing again. Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the phone and answered the call. 

“H-Hello?” You answered, your voice shaking. 

“Babe? Oh thank God, I wanted to talk to you before you went to bed.” 

“Oh, what about?” Your response was nonchalant and straight to the point. There was a moment of hesitation before Henry’s voice picked back up. It was slightly deeper than his usual timber and your eyes narrowed. He only got that tone when he was feeling guilty for something or he was lying. 

“There was a photo that got shared on Instagram. I wanted to clear things up before you jumped to conclusions.” Your jaw clenched and the muscles in your neck tightened. Your whole body was wound tight, it would only take a few words or actions to get you to snap. 

“You mean the one with Shelby?” A wince was heard on the other line and your lips pulled up into a malicious smirk. 

“Listen, babe, it really isn’t what it looks like. I had no-,” 

“That’s the oldest line in the book, Henry. Were you there with her for dinner?” 

“Yes, but baby-,” 

“Then it is what it looks like Henry. I don’t see why you have to explain yourself to me. Clearly you would rather spend your time with her and not me. I got the message loud and clear. Don’t worry about me, go back to Shelby and have a wonderful night. In fact, don’t bother coming home at all, I won’t be here. Goodbye!” You were positively seething by the time you managed to get your little speech finished. 

You hung up the phone and for the first time, wished that you could slam it as you hung up, really sending the point across. Instead, you threw the phone and grabbed a pillow, before burying your head in it and screaming yourself raw. 

Your eyes were flooded with tears and your mouth wouldn’t stop quivering as your nose runs. You hadn’t cried this much since you were sixteen and your first boyfriend broke up with you. 

______________________________________________________________

“Babe. I’m home.” Henry called out as he sat his luggage by the door. Kal was sniffing around the house, his tail wagging when he came across a scent he recognized. Henry frowned, he wasn’t expecting you to come racing down the steps and into his arms, just like you always did, especially after the argument the two of you had but the house was too quiet and he was beginning to become concerned. 

“Sweetheart, are you here?” He asked as he pushed open the bedroom door, but his suspicions were confirmed when he was met by the dark silence. Not a single sign of you. He pulled his phone out and dialed your number, it went straight to voicemail. Putting his phone back into his pocket he switched the light on and he looked around. 

There, sitting on his pillow was an innocent purple paper, folded in half. He walked over to the bed and picked it up, his heart was racing and his palms were sweaty. Taking a deep breath he opened the letter and began to read. 

Dearest Henry, 

I know it was sudden and I know I owe you more of an explanation on why I left but frankly, I don’t want to. You did the one thing that you promised you would never do. I don’t know what I did to make you forget about me and stop loving me, and whatever it was I hope I can do better with the next man. 

This letter isn’t meant to make you feel bad, I never want you to hurt. But I need you to know that seeing that other woman replace me hurt more than you can imagine. I thought what we had was good, I know it wasn’t perfect and I never wanted perfect, what I wanted was you. All of you, not just random parts, but everything. 

I guess I never shared that information with you, maybe if I had you would have stayed longer. Maybe you would have seen how much I really love you and just want to be your everything. God knows you were my world, everything revolved around you. You were my sun and my moon and I never wanted to go a day without seeing your smile or hearing your voice call my name. 

But like all love stories, I guess ours had to end too. Its a shame it ended the way it did. I hope you find peace and happiness Henry. I will always love you. Remember that for the rainy days. 

Sincerely, 

Yours. 

P.S. I don’t want you to ever blame yourself for what happened Henry, I know you were trying to tell me you weren’t happy anymore. But we both know how dense I can be at times. I have one request though, Find happiness in everything you do. I don’t want you to ever stop smiling. 

Henry felt the air leave his lungs in a choked gasp, quickly he got up and headed to the closet, hoping beyond hope that her clothes were still there. What awaited him was naked hangers and a coldness that seeped into his bones. She had really left, he should have gotten here faster. No, he should have been here from the beginning. He should have told Shelby that he wasn’t interested and left. His choice had cost him the one good thing in his life. His girl was no longer here and was ignoring him to top it off. 

He sat on the bed, head in his hands as he tried to come up with a plan to get her back. He had, no he needed, to get her back, and soon. 

He felt Kal nuzzle at his hands, his wet nose cold against his skin. A low whine was heard and he looked down at Kal, trying to blink the tears away before they could fall. 

“We are going  to get her back, buddy, I promise.” 

______________________________________________________________

It had been two weeks since you had left Henry and you looked and felt awful. You had bags beneath your eyes, your hair was a rat’s nest and you couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten a meal that wasn’t chinese noodles and ice cream. 

The thing that had gotten to you the most was the fact that Henry had fallen off the face of the Earth. He hadn’t contacted you and the media had no idea where he was. His fans were worried about him and so were you, much to your annoyance. The man could probably stab you and you would be more concerned about him than you. 

Sighing, you grabbed your coffee cup and made your way outside to sit on the porch swing. You had rented a cabin from an old friend, it was in the middle of the woods, a meadow and a dirt road stretched out in front you, keeping you isolated from the media and your troubles. 

You had just settled down when you noticed a dust cloud in the distance, not thinking much of it, you turned your gaze away to the pond beside the porch. A family of deer had made it their watering hole and you smiled as the fawn pranced around in the water, splashing its mother every couple of seconds. 

Turning your attention away from the cute sight you cocked your head to the side when you noticed that the dust cloud was getting closer. You frowned and watched it, trying to decide if it was freak weather. No-one but your friend knew you were up here, and she wasn’t planning on visiting or she would have called. 

Fear churned in your stomach as a black car came into view, spooking the dee family. Your fingers clutched the cup tightly, your knuckles turning white. You stood up and quickly moved back into the house, closing and locking all the doors and windows and pulling the shades down tight. 

Grabbing your phone, you quickly pulled up the keypad and typed in a number. You waited as you heard the car pull up, tires crunching on the dirt and rock. The engine cut off and you moved further from the door, a car door opened and shut and footsteps moved closer to the cabin. 

Your breathing was heavy and you clapped a hand over your mouth, trying to keep yourself as quiet as possible. Thuds echoed on the wooden porch and your thumb hovered the call button. Silence greeted your ears and you peered around you, trying to figure out what the next move would be. 

You jumped when the front door was knocked on, your thumb accidentally hitting the call button. Your face paled when you realized just who it was you were calling. 

Air left your body when you heard a familiar ringtone from the porch and you stood in the middle of the living room, waiting to hear the voice that belonged to the phone. 

“Y/N.” The one word response held such relief and joy that your body trembled. Even from the other side of the door, you could make out the unmistakable tenor of Henry. 

You quickly marched forward and wrenched open the door, phone falling to the ground as you launched yourself at the man. He stumbled back, not expecting you to come at him this way. 

“You scared the shit out of me!” You breathed as you clutched at the back of his neck, your hands tangling in his dark curls. You could feel his beard scratch at your neck as he hugged you tightly to him. His face nuzzling against you, trying to inhale your familiar scent that he had missed. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” he chanted over and over. His frame shaking as he kept you pulled against him. 

“I missed you so much, and I swear nothing happened with Shelby, it was just a dinner to get some more information about a new movie.” You pushed away from him, or at least tried, Henry seemed keen on making you apart of his body. 

“Henry, I can’t talk to you this way, let me see your face.” You said as he finally released you. You took a few steps back, taking him in. He was wearing an old t-shirt that you bought him and some jeans, sneakers on his feet, his eyes were bloodshot and he appeared to have permanent bags under his eyes, his skin a pale white. 

Your heart broke at the sight, but you also felt elated that he looked just as affected by you leaving, as you did. 

You hesitated before asking, “You wanna come inside? I can make some tea or coffee?” Your fingers picked at the hem of your shirt as you awaited his reply. 

“Yes, please.” His response was just as quiet as your question and you gave a weak smile. He was just as scared as you. Reaching out, you grabbed his hand and guided him into the cabin, he stood by the door as you walked around and opened the shades, letting in the natural light. 

He followed as you moved towards the kitchen and got the kettle ready. You dug through a couple of cabinets before coming across some tea leaves. It was quiet, to quiet, and it unnerved you. Your hands fumbled as you measured out the tea into mugs. Your hands were halted by his as he grabbed the spoon from you and set it down on the counter.

You tensed as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. 

“You need to breathe, slow deep breaths and then exhale.” His chest rumbled as he spoke, his fingers linking with yours as he placed your hands onto your chest, allowing you to feel each breath. 

“Good girl, I have you now. Not letting you go.” The weight of his words hit you hard and tears blurred your vision. 

“But you did let me go. You just left me, for her.” Your voice broke and every bad thought and insecurity hit you at once. Your knees buckled and Henry caught you as you fell. He guided the two of you to the floor, his legs criss crossed as he settled you into his lap. 

“I never left you, you left me. You didn’t even give me the chance to explain.” Your head shook vigorously, hair getting caught in your tears, sticking to your face as you sobbed. 

“You forgot me, replaced me with her. I was never good enough for you or the media.” You were silenced by Henry’s hands coming up and covering your mouth, not caring about the snot that was staining your face. 

“I haven’t forgotten you, and I sure as hell did not replace you. Do you hear me?” He gently but firmly turned you around to face him. His blue eyes were shiny and he blinked a couple of times, willing the tears to go away. 

“I took you for granted, thought you would always be there for me, even though I wasn’t for you. I am so sorry, sweetheart. I never meant to hurt you, ever.” 

“Nothing happened?” You asked as you reached out and wiped a stray tear from his cheek. 

“No, I was there with Shelby, yes, but there was also someone else I was having dinner with. Her name is Avery, she is producing a new movie that I have been trying to get in for a couple of months. Shelby is best friends with Avery, she was there to put a good word in. I tried to call you and let you know but I wasn’t able to get through to you. I had Liam email you the details, I didn’t think to check it before it was sent. I swear it wasn’t a date, I would never cheat on you.” 

“It was for a movie? Why didn’t you tell me about this before? I had no idea you were trying to get an audition.” You could feel anger and guilt build up in you but also confusion. Why wouldn’t he tell you something like this. His eyes softened and his fingers reached up and rubbed your frown away. 

“I wanted it to be a surprise, it's based off of your favorite book. I wanted to tell you when I was sure I had the part and I could come home in costume, make it really special.” A new sob tore from your throat and you crushed your lips against his. He was taken by surprise but quickly recovered, fingers tangling in your hair as he pushed you closer to him. 

“I’m sorry I left and overreacted…” You winced as you pulled away, your fingers twirling a piece of hair, “also for leaving you a goodbye letter.” Henry breathed deeply as he licked his lips, his eyes searching yours. 

“I’m sorry for keeping secrets and making you feel like you weren’t important and replaceable. I hated that I couldn’t be here with you, time always passes slower without you, even more so when I’m the one that made you leave.” A rueful smile touched his lips. You both sat in comfortable silence, your head resting on his chest as you listened to the beat of his heart. 

  “I discovered something else when you left.” He murmured, his lips pressed to the top of your head.

You grinned softly, “I did too.” 

“Say it together on 3?” He asked as his hands rubbed up and down your sides. You smiled and titled your head up, lips brushing, you whispered, “1...2...3!”

“I love you.” 

Tag List:  @agniavateira​​ @cavillanche​​ @cavillunraveled​​ @dancingwendigo​​ @dreamwritesimagines​​ @ficsandcatsandficsandcats​​ @hlkwrites​​ @hnryycvll​​ @honeychicanawrites​​ @iloveyouyen​@johnmotherfuckingshelby​​ @ladyreapermc​​ @laketaj24​​ @littlefreya​​ @ly--canthrope​ @mrsaugustwalker​​ @ohvalleyofplentyyy​​ @sciapod​​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​​ @supersweetstache​​ @thethirstyarchive​​ @the-winter-witcher​​ @viking-raider​​ @white-wolf-of-rivia​​ @witcherwritings​​

[ughseoks]

i love you. | knj

— pairing; namjoon x reader / slice of life!au

— genre/rating; fluff / PG

— word count; 1.8k

— warnings; periods (joon buys tampons & brief mention of blood), allusions to pregnancy

— summary; a series of important moments in your life alongside namjoon.

this is a birthday gift for my wonderful, amazing, perfect friend @interludemoonchild​! since it’s her special day, i wanted to write something i knew she’d like. that’s why i compiled all of the joonie drabble prompts she sent me a month or two ago into one singular story! i hope you enjoy, tay :) ilysm!

「 masterlist 」

going on a date with namjoon to an art gallery

On your first date with Namjoon, he took you to an art gallery.

At first, you’d been a little surprised-- art galleries weren’t the most common destinations for first dates. But any apprehension you’d previously felt had melted away almost immediately when Namjoon picked you up, his calm and caring nature immediately feeling like home.

As you perused the gallery, you didn’t share many of your thoughts, the silence of the building settling over the two of you like a blanket. Instead, you moved between the works alongside the taller man one by one quietly, spending more time staring at him than the art itself.

Something about him enraptured you. From the adorable dimples that appeared when he smiled to the way his boots clicked against the wooden floors, you were caught-- hook, line, and sinker. But more than anything, you were awestruck by the way he appreciated the art.

If you were being totally honest with yourself, you could never really appreciate art galleries the way others could. The art was undeniably beautiful, but you’d never had the special reaction that people often talked about-- the one that Namjoon was having. Every so often, he would stop in front of a piece, his eyes growing wide and his breath catching in his throat. He’d stare at it with stars in his eyes, mouth slightly open as the world faded around him, the world reduced to just himself and the work of art.

Without fail, he would look at you a minute later with a sharp turn of his head, apologizing with a shy smile every time it happened. You’d reassure him that you didn’t mind, and you weren’t lying. It was fascinating to watch, and something about the behaviour tugged at your heartstrings.

He’d taken you out for dinner later that night, ears turning red when he accidentally knocked his silverware off the edge of the table with a clang. You’d simply giggled, his clumsiness warming your heart just a little bit more.

When the night was over and the two of you were standing on your front porch, he’d awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, the tips of his ears turning red as he looked anywhere but you.

“I-- I had a really nice time tonight,” he’d admitted, finally making eye contact with you, “Maybe we could, uh, do this again sometime?”

A huge smile had crossed your lips at that, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek, giggling when his face flushed completely red. “I’d love that, Namjoon.”

--

sending namjoon to the story to buy things and he’s a wreck, but gets through it with your help

You loved Namjoon. You really did. It’d been about six months since your first date, and you’d never been this happy in your life. Really.

But for someone so smart, he could be very, very stupid.

When you’d woken up that morning to terrible cramps and an almost empty stash of tampons, you’d sent him out on an errand. The task was simple: buy a box of tampons from the convenience store a few blocks away.

It really shouldn't have taken that long, but Namjoon was Namjoon, and he’d apparently never bought tampons before. So, there you were, practically on the brink of death as you texted your boyfriend instructions.

When he finally got home, you’d nearly cried in relief, heart bursting when you realized that he hadn’t only bought tampons-- he’d also bought a pack of Tim Horton’s kcups and a family sized box of honey bunches of oats.

“I knew these were your comfort foods, so I got some,” he’d commented, holding up the grocery bag in one hand with a nervous smile on his face. “I’m sorry it took me so long, I just wanted to make sure everything was right--”

He was cut off with an oomph when you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his torso in a bear hug. Tears were flowing down your cheeks, the fabric of his shirt becoming soaked with the salty drops.

“I love you,” you’d cried into his chest, your heart a few seconds away from exploding because of how much love you felt for the man in your arms, “I love you so, so much.”

He’d immediately dropped the bag and wrapped his arms around you, giving you a gentle squeeze as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you too, _____.”

--

helping namjoon cook because he’s a mess

“I have a movie request for tonight.”

“If it’s Wall-E, I’m revoking your movie suggesting privileges. We’ve watched it twice just this month.”

“I no longer have a movie request for tonight.”

Namjoon laughed at the pout on your face, reaching over to ruffle your hair playfully before turning back to the stovetop. It was your second anniversary, and Namjoon had insisted on making you a romantic dinner from home.

At first, you’d protested-- after all, neither of you were very skilled in the cooking department. Your microwaved ramen incident had definitely proven that. But Joon reassured you that he wouldn’t burn the house down in the process, along with a promise to order takeout if his endeavors failed.

The dish of the night was simple, but classic: pasta. All he had to do was boil the water, wait for the noodles to cook, and let the sauce heat on the stove. There was almost nothing he could mess up if he simply followed the instructions word by word.

But alas, he was only Kim Namjoon, and thirty minutes later, you were watching Namjoon dip his fries in his shake, giving him a judgemental glare. If he noticed your distaste for his food combination choice, he didn’t comment, opting to press a salty kiss to your pouting lips instead.

--

playing in the rain with namjoon because he loves it

Pit. Pat. Pit. Pat.

You lifted your gaze from the book in your hands, making direct eye contact with Namjoon as raindrops began to patter against the roof of your shared home. They grew louder and louder as the seconds passed, and just moments later, Namjoon grabbed your hand to drag you off of the couch.

Once you were outside, the raindrops kissed your hair and cheeks as you spun around, a childlike giggle falling from your smiling lips. Water splashed up against your red rain boots, the shiny rubber squeaking with each one of your twirls.

Normally, by this point, Namjoon would have already grabbed you around the waist, spinning you around before pressing a kiss to your rain-soaked hair. But after a few moments, you were still spinning alone, and the familiar giggle of your boyfriend nowhere to be heard.

Slowly coming to a stop, you turned your head in search of the familiar mop of brown hair, only to let out a small noise of confusion when you saw him kneeling before you. His baggy jeans were soaked where they pressed into the concrete, wet strands of hair sticking to his forehead.

He looked ethereal.

“Joonie?” you half-whispered, realization dawning on you as he pulled a small black box out of his drenched pocket. Tears began to mix with the raindrops slipping down your cheeks, your lower lip trembling as you tried to contain your sobs of happiness.

“____,” he exhaled, words barely audible over the downpour surrounding you. He tilted his head up to meet your gaze, peering up through his wet bangs to give you the most loving smile you’d ever seen. “I love the way you insist that pizza is pie. I love the way your eyes sparkle while gazing at nighttime cityscapes. I love the way you listen to salsa music until all of the songs begin to blend together. I love how you take care of me; how you pick up the broken pieces of glass without getting annoyed when I accidentally break something. I love you. You are my everything, I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You couldn’t control your sobs anymore, shoulders shaking as he opened the box to reveal a beautiful engagement ring.

“Will you marry me?”

Unable to form a coherent sentence, you settled for nodding enthusiastically, a grin spreading across Namjoon’s face in response. He immediately stood up from his spot on the ground, wrapping his arms around you to pull you into a crushing hug.

Both of you were soaked from head to toe, but you couldn’t be happier when he slid the ring onto your finger, rain kissed lips moving against yours when you captured them in a tearful kiss.

--

namjoon being nervous about having his first kid thinking he's gonna hurt the poor baby but when he sees child his worries are gone

“Joonie,” you placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, “Something’s bothering you. Talk to me.”

Your husband let out a long sigh before wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you onto his lap, nuzzling his head into your neck before mumbling. “Do you think I’m gonna be a good dad?”

“Of course,” you answered without hesitation, bringing a hand up and carding it through his soft brown locks.

“But I’m so clumsy,” he whispered. You could feel drops of liquid hitting your neck, your heart breaking when you realized he was crying. “What if I drop her? What if I assemble the crib wrong and she gets hurt? I’m just an accident waiting to happen. How can I possibly be responsible for another person? I can barely go a day without breaking something, _____. I’m destined to fail her.”

“Woah, woah,” you hushed softly, pulling back so you could wipe away the tears staining his cheeks, “Joonie, you’re psyching yourself out. You have nothing to worry about, baby. You’re going to be an amazing dad.”

“But--”

“Joon,” you pleaded, taking one of his hands and moving it so it was resting on your baby bump, “I have never believed in anything more than I believe in you. I know it’s scary-- even I’m nervous that I’ll fall short-- but you can’t give up before we’ve even tried. Once she’s here, everything will fall into place. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

--

“Hey sweetheart,” Namjoon exhaled, extending his hand out for his daughter to grab. She was beautiful, just like her mom.

Her little finger wrapped around his larger one, tears threatening to spill over as a huge smile spread across his face. Suddenly, all of his worries were gone, any trace of nervousness or fear replaced by an all-consuming love; the kind that felt like it might swallow you whole in the best way possible.

With you and your daughter by his side, he could do anything. He would do anything.

“It’s me. Dad.”

「 masterlist 」

© ughseoks 2020, all rights reserved. do NOT modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.

[kitkat1003]

Trust is for fools, and I’ve always been called stupid

The Calabash was...something.  Terrible, confusing, but for a moment...nice.

It was easy to trust it, the kindness.  MK resolves never to do that again.  And then he trusts Macaque, because he’s stupid, and in the aftermath of DBK and the failure that was the skeleton key, MK doesn’t think he can trust anything at all.

Least of all, himself.

(or, “I just wanted to be good enough.  Like you.” and the consequences thereof)

MK knows, for a fact, that he’s not smart.  He’s not a tactician.  He doesn’t have the brains to strategize, not really.  If anything, that’s Tang’s department, because Tang has so much knowledge in that brain.  Even Pigsy could figure out a better plan than he could.

Which is fine.  MK is find with leaning on others, so long as he pulls his weight twice as much so it’s equal.  He’s the hero, he’s got to show them that even if he’s not smart, he’s at least dependable in any situation.  The clones were a mess, and he realizes that he just has to get used to sleeping less.

And he does, too.  Soon, he can go through live with six hours of sleep, 2 am to 8am every night after partying, and still kick it through the day.  No one makes comments on the bags under his eyes, because he gets a little makeup to fix that, and he doesn’t let his smile falter.

So really, why would anyone ask?  No need to worry, right?

Sometimes Pigsy looks at him a certain way, like he’s trying to decipher something.  One those days, MK pumps up the energy to 11, to prove that he’s okay.

Somehow, that makes Pigsy’s frown deepen, instead of lightening it.

Then he messes up Mei’s thing at her house, and again at the race.  Then the Calabash happens.  Then he loses the skeleton key.  Then he trusts Macaque, yells at Monkey King.  Then he fights DBK again.

And at the end of it all, there’s still a lingering doubt that he’s done anything good.  That he’s done enough.

So he helps out with the city reconstruction, on the weekends.  Hangs out with Mei, trains with Monkey King, works at the noodle shop. paints with Sandy, talks with Tang.  He balances it all out, and if he has 0 time for himself, that’s fine.  Who needs alone time?

But then, one day, he’s training with Monkey King.  He’s teaching him a few katas, because while MK is fantastic at twirling the staff around and blocking things from time to time, he still fumbles.  Some katas will give him the muscle memory to be a bit crazy.

Some of them are stupid hard, though.  There’s a lot of little steps involved, and MK is still getting into this whole focus business.

(It’s a stain on his pride, that that’s a lesson he still hasn’t exactly mastered.  Monkey King always says that it’s fine, as long as he’s trying, but that’s worthless platitude and MK knows it.)

He’s been working through this one kata for like, an hour, and he can tell Monkey King is getting a little frustrated with him.  He doesn’t say it, but MK knows.  He can get annoying.

But then, he tries again, for what feels like the 1000th time, and when he’s done Monkey King cheers.

“YES!  Oh, that-that was perfect, kid!” Monkey King is smiling, and MK wants to be happy about it, but.

Perfect.

He said perfect.

And MK, he knows he isn’t in the Calabash, he broke it, but he doesn’t want to hear that word, because it reminds him of too much of what he wanted then, consistent praise, kindness from everyone, the knowledge that he wasn’t completely useless, because he did it.  He saved everyone.

He wants that but he’ll never get it.  Not yet anyway.

“Kid?” MK flinches at the sound, blinking away his thoughts.  Monkey King has gone from smiling to pensive, if not concerned, arms crossed over his chest.

“I really did good?” MK puts on his trademark smile, and Monkey King softens.

“Heck yeah.  I think that’s good enough for today, you got an easy ten katas under your belt.  Practice them at home in the meanwhile, kay?” And MK wants to argue, because he needs to know more, faster, but he nods, waving a cheery goodbye and running off.

There’s a thrumming energy in him, that he needs to do something, anything, to let this out.

So he punches a wall, and the skin of his knuckles bleed.

He stares at it for a few moments, and realizes that the buzzing energy is gone.  He can breathe.

He doesn’t bandage it until he gets home.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It becomes part of a routine.  When he feels this...extra energy, all it takes is a little pain.  And punching things will make him stronger, anyway, so it’s basically training.  He really needs to catch up on that.

Mei invites him to a race, as a mark of goodwill considering the last time.  He declines, and practices Katas for three hours until it’s party time after Mei’s obvious win.

His limbs feel like lead but he still parties till it’s past midnight.  Sleeps for six hours.  Goes to work.

Punches a wall.

Rinse and repeat.

Tang and Pigsy notice the bandages on his hands, wrapped around his fingers and knuckles.  The first few days they say little, but Tang mentions it as MK busses tables.

“Just a new look,” he shrugs it off.

“A new look to look like you’re a street gang kid?” Pigsy barks from the kitchen, and MK shrugs.

He buys red gloves a day or so later, so they don’t see the bandages anymore.  When they ask, he says he wanted the look to be more authentic.

They stop asking questions.  Mission accomplished.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He messes up eventually.  He keeps screwing up at meditation, either twitching too much or practically falling asleep.  He’s practically thrown out of the training grounds by a reasonably annoyed and disappointed Monkey King.

And, to top it off, he scheduled his training day on the wrong day off, so now he apparently missed a shift at work.  Pigsy shouts at him, threatens to fire him, and MK doesn’t even have the energy to try panickily apologize.

So he just takes it.

“Sorry, Pigsy,” He manages, and heads up to his room, missing the look of surprise and concern that flashes on Pigsy’s face.

What a mess.  Stupid, he’s so stupid!

He slams his fist into his head, and then blinks in surprise, because the pain felt good.  It scrambled his thoughts, brought him back into focus.

He at least, this time, doesn’t have to make an excuse about covering his temples.  He’s already got his headband.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Things go back to normal, with MK’s shitty sleep schedule and shittier habits, and he’s so, so proud when no one notices, but also almost betrayed?  Do they not care enough to notice?  Are they just not looking anymore?

When he goes through the town he keeps his eyes peeled.  He has enemies, like spiders and Macaque and DBK and Red Son and Princess Iron Fan, Yin and Jin and a million others.  You can’t trust anyone, and you’re not safe.  He knows this, makes sure he remembers it, because when you forget that that’s when you get hurt, or someone you care for gets hurt.

It all comes to a head when he’s coming to the noodle shop after a long day of training, figuring a nice bowl of noodles and soup will be the perfect energy boost to get him through the rest of the day, but when he gets back the lights are off.

Now that he thinks about it, Monkey King let him out a little early, didn’t he?

He’s on edge as he walks through the door, and then the lights flick on.

“SURPRISE!”

And MK, he doesn’t see his four friends and mentor, he sees an attack.  This is out of the ordinary, this isn’t normal, Pigsy doesn’t close shop early, Monkey King doesn’t let him out of training early.

He screams, and the staff is in his hand, and the end of it shoots outward, stretching towards one of the figures.

Pigsy ducks, and the staff embeds itself in the wall.

MK blinks.  Stares.  Doesn’t breathe because he’s shaking.

“MK?” Mei starts, but then.

“WHAT THE HELL KID?!” Pigsy shouts, and MK drops the staff and runs.

When he leaves, Monkey King picks up his staff, making it vanish. He sits, cross-legged on his cloud, and crosses his arms over his chest.

“We’re going after him, right?”

“Obviously!” Pigsy growls out, and they go.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Realistically, MK knows he shouldn’t be terrified of his friends.

But they’re all stronger and better than him, and Monkey King was there too, and he messed up and perfectly good thing because he wasn’t good enough, because he freaked out over nothing, and now everyone is mad at him.

He stops in an alley, pounding his fists against his head.

“Stupid,” He mutters.  “Stupid, stupid!”  Harder, and harder, he needs to get this feeling out.  Doesn’t matter if it hurts.  Harder, and harder, biting his lip so hard it bleeds, curled up in an alley.

He hears a voice, muffled, from far away.

“Found him!  MK, it’s-what are you doing?!” Mei almost screams, and that gets Pigsy, Sandy, Tang, and Monkey King there faster than she expected.  MK doesn’t hear her, he keeps muttering to himself, keeps slamming his fists into his head.

Monkey King grabs his wrists, right before another swing, and MK freezes, blinking tiredly.  His head hurts.  His gloves have spikes on them, for the aesthetic, and he feels something wet trailing down the side of his face.

“Kid?” Monkey King tries, and MK knows he needs to reply, but the world’s getting fuzzy.  

“Kid!”

He passes out.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He wakes up on a cloud, and for a moment is pretty sure he’s dead.

“Not quite,” Someone calls, and oh, he must have said that aloud.

He sits up, and he’s in the noodle shop, on Monkey King’s cloud.

Said Monkey King is standing next to him, a frown on his face, and MK wants to vanish.

“M-Monkey King, I-,” he raises a hand, and realizes his gloves are missing.  as is his headband.  They’ve been replaced with bandages.

“You nearly gave yourself a concussion, you idiot,” Pigsy comes from the back, holding a bowl of noodles.  He practically shoves it into MK’s arms, and MK fumbles with it, before he steadies.  He takes the chopsticks, and stares down at the bowl.

“Don’t spill any.  This cloud doesn’t dry clean,” Monkey King jokes, and MK nods, shakily, and eats.  He doesn’t say anything, and everyone just watches.  It’s unnerving.

The bowl is taken out of his hands, and Tang takes it to the sink, before MK can even think to move to get up.

“...am I in trouble?” He asks, shoulders hiking up to his ears, and Pigsy sighs.  Monkey King shrugs.

“Kind of,” Is the reply he gets from his mentor, and MK deflates.

“MK, why the hell were you hitting yourself hard enough to make you bleed,” It’s not phrased as a question, and MK flinches.

“It’s just-it helps me,” Pigsy raises a brow at that, and MK lets the words fall out of his mouth, rapid fire.  “I just-I got to be good, right?  I have to to good work, and be better, and get better, and sometimes I get stressed out but then I just-I hit something and I can focus,” He glances over to Monkey King.  “Focus is important right?  I’m just doing that, you know?”

Monkey King looks a bit a lost, and a lot concerned.

“Kid-,” MK interrupts his mentor and doesn’t have the focus to even be nervous about it.

“I shouldn’t have started hitting my head, that was stupid-,” for a moment, one of his hands reaches up in a muscle memory of motion, but Monkey King grabs him by the wrist and pulls his arm back down.  “I can just go back to hitting other stuff, yknow?  To keep me on track.  And I’ll do better, promise,” He glances between his friends, but instead of making them feel better, they only look more concerned.

“Better at what?  You do plenty?” Mei tilts her head to the side, confused.

“Maybe...,” MK shrugs it off.

“What is even your schedule like?” Tang asks.  “If you’re this concerned about messing it up?”

“I work here from nine to six, then I eat, practice katas, and then hang out with Mei or paint with Sandy or hang out with Tang.  Party until one, sleep at two, wake up at eight.  I train with Monkey King on days I’m off, and I look to see who needs help on the weekends,” He prattles it off proudly, but Monkey King’s eyes narrow.

“And when do you relax?” He asks, and MK tilts his head to the side at the question.

“When I’m asleep?”

“MK, I thought you’d learned to not overwork yourself after the clones thing,” Tang pipes up, and MK blinks.

“But I’m not using clones.  I got better instead,” Pigsy groans.

“Kid, you’re a candle burning at both ends.  No wonder you’re about to fall apart.” Pigsy rubs at his temples in frustration, and MK stares.

“But-but I have to!  I got to-I got to do something!  And I’m good at this, I can do this!  I have to!”

“Why?” 

Mei’s question stops him short, and MK doesn’t know how to explain.

“You can trust us, you know.  We can pick up the slack,” Tang calls, from his place at the noodle bar.  MK snorts.

“You can’t trust anyone, and you’re not safe,” he mumbles.  Monkey King’s ear twitches.

“The hell did you learn that from?” His mentor turns to him, and MK shrugs.

“Jin and Yin.  The Calabash.  The Skeleton key.  Macaque,” He clenches his fists.  That buzzing feeling is back, and it’s hard to breathe.  He doesn’t know how to focus, he doesn’t 

“Fuck, kid, you were in the Calabash?  That’s a nightmare, no wonder you’re messed up.  Why didn’t you say something?” Monkey places a hand on top of one of MK’s fists.

“Wasn’t important.  I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” Pigsy barks.

“I’m okay enough.”

“You shouldn’t have to be!”

“But I’m the hero!” MK shouts, jumping off of the cloud and looming over Pigsy, in a rare moment where his height advantage means something.  “I have to keep the world safe, I have to stop the bad guys, I have to be better!”

“You have time,” Monkey King tries, and MK whirls on him.

“No, I don’t, because you waited until the last second to have anything to do with me!”

The shout isn’t mean to come out like that, but Monkey King flinches like he’s been hit, and MK curls in on himself.  He’s not bitter, he’s not, it’s just...frustrating.  That he has to train and fight bad guys who have thousands of years on him.  He can’t ever catch up, but he’s trying.  Isn’t that enough?

“Kid-,” Monkey King reaches out, and MK turns away.

“No-I’m sorry-that isn’t fair,” he lifts his hands up. “Stupid-”

Pigsy grabs one arm and Monkey King the other, and MK is frozen, fists raised towards his head.

MK sniffles.  And then he sobs.

He drops to his knees on the floor, crying because it’s so much and he was handling it even when it hurt and now everyone knows how pathetic and weak he is.

“It’s so hard!” He cries.  “I was just trying to be better!”

Pigsy pulls him close, and hugs.

“Kid, you’re doing fine.  Better than fine.  You got to deal with a lot of shit, and it’s hard, but you’re doing a good job.  But you don’t have to do this all.  You can take breaks,” MK doesn’t think he remember Pigsy ever speaking this soft.

“I thought there were no breaks in the war against the enemy,” He mumbles, and Pigsy snorts.

“I can make an exception, but only this time,” MK chuckles.  Pigsy lets go, and MK wipes his eyes, standing.

He turns to Monkey King.

“Listen, kid,” Monkey King looks worlds of uncomfortable.  “MK,” he amends.  “I didn’t know how bad this would get.  Couldn’t teach you with the staff until you got it.  And, uh, I figured experience learning would work, since that was how it was with me.  Mostly,” He shrugs, and MK just stares.  “But I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.  You’re my student.  I should protect you more, when you’re still learning.”

“It’s okay,” MK says, automatic.  Monkey King’s eyes soften with something undiscernible.

“Sure, kid,” He mutters, and MK wonders who is blaming who at this point.

“Okay,” Mei pipes up.  “Are we gonna celebrate MK’s birthday or what?”

MK blinks.

“It’s my birthday?”

“You forgot?!”

“I was busy!’

They’re laughing, and Pigsy heads into the kitchen.  Something about a cake.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

MK is barred from working the next day, as well as training and partying.  He’s only to do something that is for him, not for anyone else.

So he draws, all day, little sketches.  Drawings of him, of Pigsy, of Sandy, of Mei, of Tang, of Monkey King.

A new routine.

He works from 9 to 6, 3 days a week.  Trains two days a week.  Has weekends off, to do whatever he wants.  Mei calls him to party, and always asks what he did the day before extending her invitation.  Same with Sandy and Tang.

He wonders if they’re conspiring against him.  For him?  Whatever.

Pigsy checks his hands and temples every day for two months.  It’s embarrassing, especially when MK messes up and hits himself, or something, again.

Mei is a good distraction.  She takes him to his favorite places, reminding him of the things he forgot.  How to have fun.  How to relax.

Monkey King is very...gentle isn’t the right word.  But protective?  Perhaps.  MK stumbles during a kata and he’s getting his legs checked out by a suspicious monkey.

He thinks Monkey King is embarrassed that he couldn’t tell MK was hurt.  That must be it.

Eventually, the bruises fade.  His knuckles have a few scars, but he throws away the gloves regardless.

“You’re getting better,” Monkey King tells him one day, when he swings the staff, willing it to stretch out to hit the dummy twenty feet away.

MK smiles.

He’s getting better.