#till they could get me in to an actual doctor

[mynameisjag]

Danny Phantom/DC Prompt Idea: Forced Recovery

It seemed no matter where he went, he was never safe.

Breaking through Amity's block, finally getting the attention of older actual heroes, who jumped to help them, the Ecto-Acts proving to be false claims upheld by the now debunk and dismantled G.I.W.

Danny should have been safe now, should have been able to continue with his life a little easier now…

Instead he found himself snatched up and placed with a family that were pure strangers, far from his home and the now shut-downed portal, his parents arrested and waiting a trial, and Jazz barred from seeing or knowing his whereabouts and health.

He was trapped in a mansion with rich fruitloops, an anklet bracelet that monitored his health and would trigger an alarm if he went passed the gates.

House arrest with the excuse of it being for his benefit, the Justice League saying that there was still Agents out there looking for him, families from Amity realizing that most of the damage to their town was his own family’s fault and they couldn’t get to his parents as easy as they could get to him, then they threw in concerns of his health.

With the portal closed, he would have to rely on environmental ecto, so low ecto meant low power usage, he was practical malnourished, overstressed, overworked, underweight, a list that was more like a novel by the time the doctor got through with his examination.

It all came together in one big warm shit pie.

He just needed to wait this out…wait for his parents verdict…wait for his health to get better…wait till Jazz was allowed to get in touch with him…wait…all he can do is wait…

For now, he was going to get breakfast and hide away from the rest of the residents of the Manor.

Gotham was blessed and cursed with an abundance of ecto just floating around, enough to aid his healing and health…not enough to restore the levels he needed to regain his full strength and powers though.

Even with the filter he created to concentrate the ambient ecto into a pick me up drink, he wasn’t gaining health as fast has he liked to.

Speaking of his filter, the contraption sat next to Tim’s near worshiped coffee pot, granted it was built out of refurbished carbonated soda stream, so it didn’t look too out of place in the kitchen. And luckily it seemed the only person up right now was Alfred, the older man smiling gently at him as Danny grabbed his thermos to fill it up for the day.

“It’s good to see you up and about.”

“Just filling up for the day before heading back to my room.”

“Of course, as usual, rest is good for your health but so is social interaction.”

Ah...that was a…hint…wasn’t it…he guessed he has to fill the social quota himself before the others decided to do it themselves.

[sparkelingspectres]

Hehe I'm so proud of myself I took my first adderall in months and I actually cleaned my upstairs

[quantum-chromo-dynamics]

I hate finding the coolest stuff while I'm on vacation because I can't take anything home with me and I rarely bring enough money with me.

Just today I went into some library and they had both art books for into the spiderverse and no way home and a figurine of doc ock.

[psy-ay-ay]

every time i look up any gynecological research i wanna start murdering people

[official-megumin]

the donations post is once again dying out, so I'm making a new one.

We still really need money, I keep getting more sick.

It's so bad that I can barely even be transported by car because the changes in speed makes it feel like my head is collapsing in on itself.

But also walking leaves me so exhausted I can't comfortably stand up. I have been pretty much bedridden for weeks now, and my assisted living home isn't accomodating my needs at all.

They're supposed to be providing food, but since I have allergies. They don't actually make sure I can eat it. So we've had to order take-away, which is obviously kinda expensive.

I'm still trying to get medical staff to listen to me, I have gotten blood work done to see if any of my hormone levels can explain my illness, and from what I can see, it doesn't explain anything.

I also have a doctor's appointment this monday after having had to wait all month for it.

So please help us out, we still haven't been able to work on getting any further with marriage approval because of how sick I have been. We also need to have a diagnosis worked out for the approval anyway.

We genuinely have no way of making this all work out without help.

I could also still really use some help to just give us a bit more money to run on till next friday where I will get paid again.

[stsgluver]

synopsis. your husband still ignores the side effects of his cursed technique just so he can get a glimpse of you.

wc. 1.2k

gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.

the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.

as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.

his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.

still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.

gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.

but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.

within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.

"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.

the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.

satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"

"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.

you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.

he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.

his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."

you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."

"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."

"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.

"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.

that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.

"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.

"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"

satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.

"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."

"lay with me."

"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.

he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."

gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.

but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.

and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.

a/n. um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Shots and Surprises

Sam and Dean & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Sam and Dean have to take you (7 years old…ish) to get shots.

“It’s time Sammy,” Dean whispered as he glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.

“Are you sure? I mean, already?” Sam asked.

“Positive. We’ve put it off for too long as it is. We’re just gonna have to get it over with.”

“You sure it can’t wait any longer? I mean Dean, it’s shots—you know how much Y/N hates shots.”

“What about shots?” The brothers nearly jumped out of their chairs at the sound of your voice.

“Who-who said anything about shots?” Dean tried to grin nonchalantly and failed miserably.

“Honey,” Sam began, ignoring Dean’s warning look. “We’ve gotta take you in to get your shots today. We’ve put it off for as long as we can, but—“

“No! No no no no no no no! I can’t need them again already, I can’t!”

“Well you do,” Dean said, glaring at Sam.

“We had to tell her at some point,” Sam defended himself in response to Dean’s glare.

“I was just gonna blindfold her until it was over.” Sam couldn’t tell if Dean was joking or not.

“I’m not going!” You insisted. “It’s not like it’ll kill me not to go.”

“Actually it could,” Dean argued. “They’re pretty important shots, kiddo.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groaned.

“Afraid not,” Sam said. “Now let’s go, we don’t want to be late.”

“I…I have to go to the bathroom first,” you insisted, turning on your heel and running.

“You think she’s gonna lock herself in there like last time?” Sam asked.

“Oh for sure,” Dean said, already turning and heading down a hallway. “I’m gonna head her off from the side!” He called over his shoulder. Sam just chuckled, glad that Dean had learned the strange layout of the bunker better than you had. Sure enough, he came back not two minutes later with you in front of him; Sam noticed that Dean’s hands were pretty tight on your shoulders to keep you that way.

“I’ll buy you pie,” you were babbling. “I’ll buy you every pie from here to Kentucky if I have to, just don’t make me go in there!”

“Kid, it’s not a big deal!” Dean insisted. “It’ll take like ten minutes.”

“You’re gonna let some stranger attack me with a sharp weapon!” You accused. “What kind of big brother are you?”

“Alright.” Sam had heard enough; he was used to your attempts to get out of shots. He took two steps forward and grabbed you, lifting you into his arms like he would have when you were a baby or a toddler.

Dean chuckled—he would’ve thought that he’d lose patience before Sam.

“Sammy!” You we’re struggling in his arms with no progress. “Put me down!”

“Not till we’re in the Impala,” Sam said. Dean followed the two of you out into the car, where Sam put you down and tried to buckle you in.

“Ok, ok, I’ve got it!” You insisted, yanking the belt from him and buckling it yourself. Satisfied, Sam got himself settled into the front while Dean started up the car. “Are you sure we have to do this?” Your voice was quieter now; timid.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Dean sighed. “We don’t have a choice.”

…

“I’m sorry.” Sam heard you whisper as you trailed behind him into the doctor’s office. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. Are…are you still gonna go in with me?”

“What?” Sam stopped walking, turning to face you as he dropped to one knee. “Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna let you go in there alone, ok? Thank you for apologizing, but nothing you coulda said would’ve made me make you go in there alone, ok? I’m here for you, always.”

“You guys coming?” Dean called from the receptionist’s desk. “They’re ready for you, Y/N.”

“You sure I have to go?” You repeated, looking at Sam first, then Dean.

“Yup,” Dean said.

“It was worth a shot,” you sighed as you followed Dean as he followed the doctor, Sam at your side.

…

“Don’t look at it,” Sam insisted as the doctor pulled out the needle. “You don’t want to see it, just look at me.”

You turned your attention from the doctor to Sam, and his heart ached when he saw the tears tracking down your face. Sam grabbed your hand tightly, squeezing it when he noticed how much it was shaking.

“Hey, it’s not gonna hurt that bad,” Dean cut in. “It’s like this.” Dean reached up and pinched your arm—not enough so it would hurt, just enough to get your attention. “Or this—“ he pinched your leg. “Or this—“ he scratched at your neck, and despite your tears you giggled at his ticklish touch.

“Ok, first one’s done,” the doctor said suddenly.

“What?” You looked up in surprise to see him putting a bandaid on your arm. “It’s over?”

“We got one more,” the doctor told you. “But that wasn’t so bad, right?”

You nodded slowly, comforted until the doctor pulled out a second needle. You hadn’t even seen the first one because Dean had been quick to distract you, but you saw it this time.

Sam felt your little hand squeeze his as you leaned in closer to him.

“Hey,” Sam said, drawing your attention. “You’re doing great, really. I got you, ok? You’re gonna be just fine, I promise.”

“Do I have to do another one?” The tears were back in full force, and Sam wrapped his arms around you.

“It’s ok, you’re doing so so good,” Sam soothed. “I’m right here, you’re ok.” Sam nodded to the doctor, who went for the exposed part of your arm that Sam had left available to him.

Sam kept his arms around you as the needle went in, cringing when he heard you whimper—the distraction could only work once.

“It’s ok, all done,” Sam promised as the doctor pulled away. Sam didn’t let go of you though; your grip was so tight on him that Sam knew you needed this. “Ok, I’m here honey. I’m not going anywhere. You ok?”

“‘m ok,” you sniffled as another bandaid was put on your arm. “Can we go home now?”

“Sure, pumpkin.” Sam lifted you in his arms as he spoke, letting you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist so you were clinging to him like a koala.

“I think this calls for some ice cream,” Dean said, reaching a hand up and trying to coax your face out of Sam’s shoulder. “What do you think of that, hmm?”

“Ok, De,” you giggled, and Dean grinned.

“Ok.”

“Dean Winchester?”

Dean turned around in surprise when the doctor called out his name to stop him.

“Yes?”

“It seems that you’re also behind on several shots as well. We should get that taken care of.”

“Say what?”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley

[filmbyjy]

ONE NOTE

SYNOPSIS > When you turned 18, you heard your best friend’s favourite song. Turns out, it was just one of the various signs to finding your soulmate. However, you couldn’t bring this up to jake. Not when he was in a happy relationship with your other best friend! Would you choose heartbreak or sacrifice your happiness for the sake of keeping the friendship?

FIFTEEN – most touching story

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

a/n: sometimes I like to make myself cry when writing these chapters💀 so in other words the angst in this chapter is just so 🤌🏻

“are you sure you’re okay?” sunghoon asks as he worriedly watches you hold your stomach.

“hoon, i’m fine. the doctor said that it will hurt a couple of days and then i’ll be fine. i just need to avoid seeing aria and jake so it wouldn’t worsen.” you had explained. jay and sunghoon didn’t look convinced.

“yeah, but-”

“please, boys? for me? i’ll be fine, i promise you.” you had mustered up the best puppy eyes you could give them. you knew it would crumble them instantly because they loved you, platonically of course.

jay rolls his eyes, “fine. get in the car. we aren’t mentioning any of this to your mom or dad. just so they wouldn’t get worried for you.”

“yeah, perfect. i think my dad would actually storm over to jake and tell him to marry me instantly.” you joked.

“mr.kim would definitely do that.” sunghoon says.

the drive took about 20 minutes. you were back in your small little hometown. you loved the healing aspect of this place and it was near a beach so that was a plus. your parents obviously heard the commotion outside of the house when you opened jay’s trunk to grab your small luggage.

“sweetheart, why are you back?” your mom says as she rushes to hug you.

“just missed you and dad.” your dad lets out a hearty laugh.

“you brought my two favourite boys along too?”

“they wanted to tag along.” you point out.

your dad pulls the two boys into a huge hug. your dad loved your guy friends, including taesan. he has always wanted a bunch of sons so this was just a blessing in disguise for him to have them.

“where is jake?”

“with his girlfriend probably. we didn’t want to disturb the love birds.” jay explains.

“that’s a shame. i won’t lie but his girlfriend?” your dad shakes his head and sighs. “i don’t think that’s his soulmate.”

you froze and so did jay and sunghoon. your dad knew about soulmates? does that mean your mom is his?

“dad, did you have a soulmate before?” what a stupid question to ask him, (name).

“of course! let’s get in the house before i tell the whole story to you kids.” your dad says.

after settling down and placing your luggage into your room, everyone gathers in the living room. jay and sunghoon chose to sit on the ground while your mom and you were settling on the couch.

“first things first, yes. your mom is my soulmate. however, we didn’t officially get together until we were 25. i was a charismatic man, a ladies man you could say.” your mom rolls her eyes at his words.

“a playboy is what you were, myungdae.” she says. your dad denies it before continuing with his story.

“so, i was…getting around a lot. i had many different girlfriends up till i was 24. since we get our soulmate marks at 18, i didn’t care about it. i just liked partying and being a playful guy. however, something in me was itching to find my soulmate but yet again i ignored it. there is a consequence to not get with your soulmate, i’m sure all of you have heard of it. at that time, i had a very close best friend. she was someone that i had always relied on.”

you had gasped. “you and mom were best friends before dating?”

“yup, we were best friends and without knowing. i was unintentionally hurting your mom. she started coughing up blood which then turned into coughing up flowers and blood. it wasn’t easy for her. she tried her best to hide the fact that she was my soulmate and i was hers for the sake of my happiness. then, one day, i heard that she went to the hospital. i ran and ran just to see her. she was about to get the surgery done and i didn’t want that for her. i held her hand and then i realised that our soulmate marks were glowing. it surprised me because all this time, this beautiful woman who was always next to me was my soulmate? i felt my whole world collapse. i begged and begged for her not to get the surgery done. she listened and as i sat in the ward with her, i held her hand. i told her that i promised to love her and take care of her until we grew old. i broke it off with my girlfriend at the time and the rest is history.”

jay sniffled. “that was the most touching story ever.” your dad pat his back.

“kiddo, you will get to experience that when you find your soulmate. just don’t go searching for other women, your soulmate can sense it and it will not be good for them.” your dad warns.

you could feel your stomach feel unease. to which your mom notices and just discreetly makes up and excuse to pull you out to talk to you alone. she brings you to your bedroom and lightly closes the door.

“do you want to tell me about it, sweetheart?” you felt the tears come crashing down and your mom gives you a big hug whilst rubbing your back. “it’s okay, darling. you’re fine, i’m here for you. just let it out.”

your mom was the most gentle woman ever, the best mom to have ever existed and you loved her to bits. which is why you always felt spoiled by her and your dad. they always let you cry on their shoulders whenever you need to. crying to your mom usually doesn’t take so long so you had calmed down a little after 15 minutes.

“are you facing the same situation as me, sweetheart?” she asks. you could only nod your head and shamelessly looked down at your hands. the drips of tears falling right onto your skin. “did you-” she didn’t want to say it, she knew what it was and you knew what she was going to say.

“yes. it started yesterday. i coughed up blood.” your mom pulls your closer once again, hugging you tightly. her heart ached for you. it wasn’t a good sign and she obviously knew that there was no other way.

“we’ll get through this. we’ll get you treated and get some medicine so you will feel less pain over time before…”

“i don’t want to die. if this gets worse, i’ll get the surgery.”

“if you must, then you know what will happen. right, darling?” she cradles your face into the palm of her hand. “i don’t want my daughter to be dead but i also want my daughter to have emotions. let’s just have hope that jake will come to his senses.”

“no, he will never love me.”

tears were stinging at her eyes, it was like she was watching herself when she was younger. the painful memories were only playing in her head but she had to stay strong for you. she had to give you hope in a way. with glossy eyes, “i’m sure he will. only time will tell.”

that night, neither jay or sunghoon wanted to leave you alone. they weren’t dumb. they knew that your parents’ love story and your situation were the similar. they were certain that you would have doubts and you’d be even more stressed out. hence, they decided to stay close to you. and yes, that meant that they were both sleeping in your bed while you were sleeping there too. not the first time.

you were tossing and turning. the world clearly didn't want you to sleep tonight. which is why you had sat up and climbed out of bed and walked towards the mini balcony you had in your room. you had tugged the cardigan close around your body, it was decently cold at night. the sea breeze blowing in your hair.

you could hear footsteps behind you but it doesn't scare you since you knew it was one of the boys. you felt a small peck on your shoulder.

"couldn't sleep?" sunghoon's deep voice resonates beside you. you hummed. "want something warm to drink before you get to sleep?"

"nah, I'm fine."

"what were you and your mom talking about just now?"

you sighed. "she knows."

"oh." was all he could say.

"she had pity her eyes. never in my whole life would i see my own mom looking at me with such pity."

"I'm sure she understands you. she's been in your position before and she knows how heart breaking it is."

"hoon?" he hums. "I wish you were my soulmate." you felt him ruffle your hair and squeeze your hand to comfort you.

"me too. the both of us would've been the best couple in college." he jokes. you smiled a little.

"yeah, we would've." he pulls you closer and pecks the side of your head.

"do you want to stay up or go to sleep?" he asks.

"let's stay up for a bit, then we can go to sleep." he nods at your words.

and so that's what you did. when you wake up the next morning, jay wasn't there anymore, but sunghoon was still there. he gently opens his eyes to adjust to the lighting of the room.

"morning, beautiful."

"morning, hoon."

he pecks your lips. well, that was until jay threw a pillow at the both of you. "wake up! mom made us breakfast. a huge feast."

"stop calling my mom as yours." you threw the pillow back at jay and he ducks, successfully avoiding it.

"no." he sticks out his tongue. sunghoon grabs the plushie on your bed and throws it once again towards jay. this time, it hits the bullseye. right on his face. "oh fuck." jay stumbles back a little and gives sunghoon the middle finger.

sunghoon smirks and shoots a middle finger at jay. you could only roll your eyes at the both of them. "okay, get out idiots."

"who are you calling idiots? you've had sex with the bo-" you shoved sunghoon out and shut the door in their faces.

you loved your two best friends to bits but sometimes, they were a little too much for you. you had taken a quick shower and also put on your swimsuit since you were planning to just enjoy your time at the beach later.

you felt your phone buzz a couple of times but you chose to ignore it because you were on a small break. in the end, you, jay and sunghoon went to the beach. jay throws you over his shoulder and carries you over. it was fun not having to worry about your assignments and life for a bit.

you had jay and sunghoon by your side to make you feel better and that was all it mattered.

and you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.

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[nicohischierz]

hiding in plain sight: hughes sister

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hischif you want to join the taglist let me know!!

luke had walked into jack’s room rubbing his chest.

“what’s going on bud?” jack asked, lowering his phone. luke crawled into jacks bed and laid in his back. “my chest hurts,” luke answered.

jack turned to his younger brother and continued asking questions, searching his symptoms up online before deciding if it required a trip to the doctors.

“ever since i moved here, i’ve got this dull ache in my chest and sometimes it hurts more than other times,” luke explained.

“do you think you’re homesick?” jack asked.

luke shrugged. “i asked quinn about it and he said he gets it too sometimes but quinn isn’t homesick anymore,”

jack couldn’t help and luke decided to give up. so the two brothers left it alone.

luke monitored the feeling in his chest and found it lightening on december 5th.

the whole family was in vancouver. everyone except you.

ellen, jim, jack, luke and quinn were in quinn’s apartment playing games when his doorbell rang.

the group weren’t expecting anyone so quinn was a bit apprehensive in opening the door.

“your lives have been made better!” you exclaimed hugging your oldest brother.

quinn hugged you back after clocking who you were. the older hughes boy squeezed you tightly, making sure you weren’t a figment of his imagination.

luke was next.

with the two of you being close in age, luke had missed you dearly. upon inhaling your comforting scent, the ache in luke’s chest lifted.

actually. when all three brothers saw you in the doorway, the aches in their chest vanished upon seeing their younger sister.

you smiled at jack after letting go of luke. the two of you may have had a disagreement before he left but he was still your older brother.

so you pulled him in for a hug as he clutched you tightly. “i’m sorry squish,” he whispered.

you pulled away from him and gestured for the other two to come close. “i missed you guys,” you announced, pulling all three brothers in for a hug.

that weekend, you spent as much time as you could with your brothers. you pestered them when you were bored and followed them into every room they visited.

“i mean i’m seeing you for christmas right?” luke had asked.

the devils were getting ready to leave for their next game and luke wanted to make sure his chest never ached again.

you shrugged. “my boyfriends going to sweden and asked if i wanted to come along. i haven’t thought about it much but sweden’s nice and i’ve never been but i barely get to see you guys,” you trailed off.

quinn squeezed your shoulder. “you should go. luke, jack and i have travelled for hockey before and i know you’ve always wanted to go,” he answered.

“i think you should stay.” luke intervened.

“why?” you asked.

“like you said you barely see us, so why make it less by leaving to go to sweden with your boyfriend that none of us know about,” luke added.

“i want to travel the world lukey. i love you guys so much but why do i have to make the compromise everytime.”

you picked up your bag and headed it the door. “whenever you guys are in boston, i have to make the drive to see you. i have to make sure i’m at the lake house every summer just to catch a glimpse of you guys. i’m tired of not putting myself first luke,” you explained.

"its funny cause all your friends make the effort to come see me but I have to be the one to see you," you added.

luke tried to come up with an explanation but you stopped him. you bid goodbye to your family and called for a cab to the airport.

the hughes brothers didn’t realise it at first but that ache in their chest was back and stronger than ever.

it wasn’t till christmas that they all realised it.

luke thought being with his parents would help but the ache was still there, gnawing away at his insides. he felt useless as he lay on the couch rubbing his chest as world juniors played in the background.

quinn and jack were dealing with the same pain as they found refuge on one of the sofas. ellen thought they were being over dramatic babies in need of their mother's care.

"what is going on with the three of you?" she asked, lifting luke's legs onto her lap. the three boys groaned.

"my chest hurts,"

"i feel sick,"

"jack's lying on my arm," they all complained.

"lukey, your chest hurts? why didn't you say anything sooner?" ellen started panicking.

luke shrugged. "i told those two and they thought it might be home sickness but it still hurts and I am literally at home,"

ellen furrowed her eyebrows and looked at her three babies "has it ever not hurt?" she asked.

"earlier in the month," they all replied.

"when?" ellen pressed.

"umm mine stopped when we were all in van, even squish," quinn answered.

"mine too," luke added.

"same," jack joined.

it didn't take long for the hughes matriarch to realise the brothers missed their younger sister.

"whenever you guys feel this pain, who's missing?" she asked quietly.

luke wasn't trying to answer the question directly when he replied "squish!"

in actual fact, the stream had panned to the crowd and their younger sister just so happened to make an appearance. she was sat next to rutger mcgroarty's sister donning a usntdp jersey that the three brothers knew didn't belong to them.

you had waved to the camera, the number two clearly visible on your sleeve before the camera panned down to the owner of the jersey, will smith.

"your sister loves you guys and i know you guys love her. but that boy looks at her like she hung the stars and the moon. he gives her the space to be herself, not just your younger sister," ellen explained.

it took the brothers a few weeks for their mother's words to truly settle in.

it wasn’t until the three brothers were together again and were on instagram when they came across a video with you and will in the background.

the two of you were smiling at each other as will was in the middle of putting his cap on you. the brothers could hear the laugh you let out.

it’s the one in so many of their home videos where you’re having the time of your life.

it’s also the laugh they haven’t heard in a while.

luke felt guilty for suggesting you should’ve stayed.

quinn felt like a bad brother for not making the same effort as you did.

and jack.

well he still felt guilty for what he did before he left for jersey.

[redvelvetcupcakes21]

I feel like Josh wouldn't be surprised about Buck being bi but he would definitely want to celebrate about Buck coming out....

Buck was not expecting to see Josh at 930 am outside his door with two ice lattes in a coffee carrier and a bag of donuts from Birdies.

"Josh, uh- what- what are you doing here? Did we have plans or something?" He asked worriedly as Josh walked through his door, he sensed before seeing Josh's wry smile that this wasn't exactly going to be a social call.

"Oh no, but you owe me Buckley." He set down the drinks and bag, pointing to Buck with an expression akin to annoyance. "You mean to tell me that despite you and I texting every other day about reality TV shows and how influencer should pay extra in tax for making traffic crap and are also in three separate group texts together, you didn't think to tell me "hey Josh, just a heads up, I'm dating a man who looks like he just walked off a cover of a dark romance novel"?"

Buck smothered a laugh behind his fist, he had seen how shocked and annoyed Josh had looked when he and Tommy had came into Chimney’s hospital room. He also saw Hen, Karen, and Josh eyeing them with what Tommy mentioned felt like he was going to have to get ready for multiple shovel talks.

"I-I thought about coming to you but I just wasn't sure who to talk to first, if I had to." Buck explained as Josh pulled the dozen of donuts. He figured Josh was actually upset when Josh slapper his hand as Buck was trying to get to the PB&J bacon donuts.

"Nope, that one is mine." He pointed at Buck's face, "I get to enjoy my donut while you tell me how you two met because now I get to live vicariously through my friend as I stay perpetually single."

Buck rolled his eyes as they both took a seat at the kitchen table. "Aren't you dating a doctor?" Buck asked teasingly, sipping on his iced latte happily as he watched Josh get slightly more irate.

"Yes, but I didn't bring him to Maddie’s wedding. Clearly my version of dating is different than what you and the Hot Pilot have going on." He paused and arched a brow at Buck. "Also, did I hear correctly that that was your third date with him?" Josh asked incredulously.

Buck gave out a flustered "I mean....technically I-I guess you could say it was our....second date?"

Josh pulled the cookie monster donut away from Buck's grasp. "C’mon man!" And pushed the plain glazed donut towards Buck.

"You get the plain till you tell me everything Buckley." He tapped on the table impatiently. "Spill."

[unequivocallyreid]

Stay With Me Till Morning

hi guys! another fic for you :) i got a little carried away at the end, but you know how it goes. this is for any munch!spencer fans 🤗

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary:

Spencer and you are co-workers, strictly co-workers, despite your feelings for him. A few nights sharing a room won’t change that, right?

warnings: mentions of body-specific insecurity, fluff, smut, oral sex (fem receiving)

wc: 3.2k

if i missed anything let me know!

One of the worst things about being a newbie, at any job, is coming into a place where connections have already been made. Working at the FBI, more specifically the BAU, was no different.

Now don’t get the wrong idea, working there was a dream for you, but there was no doubt that you were severely lacking in personal relationships compared to others. Derek and Reid had a sort of brotherly bond, JJ and Emily’s like sisters, and Hotch and Rossi’s went unspoken but still glaringly obvious. You existed in their orbit, and while you had all grown to love each other, you still felt a bit like an outsider sometimes.

Unfortunately for you, this feeling intensified whenever the topic of room sharing came up. Sure there were benefits, like having a room to yourself on occasion, but usually it just served to worsen your imposter syndrome.

The case that you were working currently, sans Rossi (he was on a book tour following his latest release), pushed this feeling to surface even more.

You all were in Upstate New York investigating a series of homicides that seemed to mimic a string of murders that had occurred 20 years ago. The town you were in was on the smaller side, so the only place you could find accommodations was a small bed and breakfast.

Said BnB did not have enough rooms available for anyone to ride solo, and with Rossi gone, Hotch and Morgan were buddied up, leaving Emily and JJ and Reid and you. Naturally, Emily and JJ bunked up together, leaving you to share a room with the boy wonder.

It’s not that you didn’t like Reid, quite the opposite actually, you liked him too much. You’ve always had a propensity for falling incredibly deeply incredibly fast, and when you met Spencer for the first time you proved you reputation correct.

Your first impression probably put him off slightly, but he was gracious enough not to show it. When Hotch introduced you, the first thing you thought was how ridiculous attractive the man in front of you was. His high cheekbones and big, brown eyes drew you in immediately. To make matters worse, he was fucking adorable. After snapping back to reality, you offered Spencer your hand, which he declined citing the pathogens and it being safer to kiss.

In one of your more impressive displays of cluelessness you said, “I think we could make that happen.”

This caused Spencer to flush and a ghost of a smile to grace Hotch’s face. Thankfully, in the last few months you had redeemed yourself slightly, developed a rapport with the doctor, and stood by hopelessly as you crush developed into a nasty little monster.

So, no sharing a room with Spencer wasn’t really an issue, but still, might just be the thing that breaks you.

~

“There’s only one fucking bed?”

You’d spoke far too soon.

After assuring Spencer you were completely fine and not at all uncomfortable with sharing a room with him, you and him walked together to your room, only to find a scene straight out of a shitty romance novel.

When Spencer heard you and noticed that there was in fact, only one bed, he immediately said, “I can sleep on the couch.”

Maybe you should’ve just agreed and saved yourself from a week of sexual frustration, but you couldn’t.

“Spence, that couch is maybe five feet long. I don’t even think I could sleep on it.”

You looked at him then to muster up some courage, “We can share the bed. We’re both adults.”

He looked slightly pained, which panicked you a bit. God, how fucking embarrassing.

“Or I can take the couch. I wont let you, but if you’re uncomfortable I can. I’m a bit shorter.”

Spencer hurried to speak, “No!”

His outburst took you by surprise but he quickly went on.

“I mean, no. I’m not uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to be at all or feel like I’m forcing you to sleep with me. Fuck, or I mean next to me-“

You cut him off before he could fall into a tailspin.

“We’ll share then.”

~

Sharing the bed had actually not been that bad for you at first. You were on your third day in New York, and you were making steady progress on the case. Hopefully, it would be wrapped up in a day or two.

Aside from the fact that you barely spent any time in the room, you had managed to stay on your side bed. The only spot of trouble was the dreams you were having, dreams about the person next to you that would turn even the worst sinner’s cheeks red. Still, Reid was acting no different, so at least you were confident you weren’t talking, or, god-forbid, moaning, in your sleep.

It had been an incredibly hard day. Not only was it freezing, but you had been outside and away from temperature controlled environments for far too long. Immediately once you got back to the Inn you were staying at, you asked Spencer if he’d mind you taking the shower first.

“I’m freezing my ass of right now. You don’t mind do you?”

“No, of course not. You know it’s kind of a superstition, but there’s some actual evidence that being cold can make you sick. I just read a study which showed 10% of people exposed to-“

You cut him off before he could finish.

“Spence, I’d love to hear about all that, but please just wait till I’m out of the shower.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Sorry.”

You shook off his apology as it wasn’t needed. That was one thing you didn’t get about the rest of the team; you loved hearing all the little tid bits of information that Reid let out. Yeah, he was like a literal encyclopedia at times, but it was never annoying. If anything it made you like him more. You loved the way he lit up when he told you about something he’d just read about, or read about 15 years ago. It was cute.

Getting into the shower was like a blessing. The water rolled over your cold skin and helped to loosen the muscles you’d been stressing all day. If you were bolder, or clueless to Spencer’s aversion to touch, you’d ask him to give you a shoulder rub. Your mind wondered off to where else he might touch you, but that was just wishful thinking.

After spending a near gratuitous amount of time in the shower, you shut off the water and reached for a towel. Only once you’d started drying off did you realize in you haste to warm up you’d forgotten to bring your sleep clothes into the bathroom with you. Now, you had to walk out in a tiny, hotel towel right in front of Reid. Sure, it was the start of a few of your fantasies, but in real life the idea seemed mortifying.

As quietly as possible, to not draw attention to yourself, you opened the bathroom door. With one hand gripping the point where the towel connected with itself, you tried to tiptoe unnoticed to your suitcase.

“Y/n?”

You looked up to see Spencer watching your frame like a hawk. As he took in your damp, barely covered figure, you wished to yourself that the lights in the room weren’t so fucking bright.

“I, uh, forgot to bring my clothes in,” and with that, you raced back into the bathroom to change.

After taking a minute to collect yourself, you make your way out of the bathroom again. The room is, thankfully, much darker and you see Reid tucked into his side of the bed. You climb in next to him.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That was weird. I, I won’t forget my clothes again.”

“It didn’t, Y/n, don’t worry.”

With that, you both tried your best to fall asleep and put the day behind you.

~

When you wake up, it’s decidedly not light out and you are decidedly not alone on your side of the bed. One of Spencer’s arms is over your waist, holding you against his body. Still, you don’t know why you’ve woken up.

You tend to be a pretty heavy sleeper, and you know that some light spooning wasn’t enough to wake you up. As you lay awake, trying to figure out why you are up and what to do next you feel Spencer move behind you.

Now, you definitely know what woke you. Spencer, who could barely look you in the eye after seeing you in a towel, was grinding into while you slept. Obviously, he was asleep too, but that didn’t stop the shock of it all from hitting you like a fucking bus. He was silent aside from the occasional whimper, which sent shockwaves straight to your core each time he let one slip.

Despite this, again, being the start to a few of your own wet dreams, you were pretty literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. You felt like you’d be taking advantage of Reid if you didn’t wake him, but if you did you know he’d just about die from embarrassment. Or, worse, he’d think that you somehow executed all of this in a sick ploy. Not likely, but still a source of anxiety.

It took you a few minutes to get your head on straight, what with the burning feeling brewing in your abdomen, but eventually you realized that waking him up was pretty much the only thing you could do.

“Spence,” you said while gently shaking his shoulder.

“Spence, love, you gotta wake up.”

You were turned toward him now and saw his eyes open a crack, “Y/n? What’s wrong what’s goin-“

The realization of your situation also hit him like a truck, which was sort of comforting because at least you weren’t alone in the feeling.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Jesus, I, I can’t- Fuck I’m so sorry.”

He went to spring out of bed, but your hand grabbed his arm before he could.

“Spence, it’s okay I promise. Honestly I’m surprised it didn’t happen earlier.”

“No, no it’s not. You don’t even like me that way and I was all over you-“

You cut him off when you heard this, “Spence, what do you mean I don’t like you like that?”

“You heard me right? I said your name?”

The world stops spinning, “What?”

“Oh, oh no. Look, I’m so sorry. I’ll go sleep in one of the cars. Fuck, I’m so-”

“Spencer stop. Please stop apologizing.”

It’s like an old Western showdown for a moment, the two of you staring at each other without making a move.

“Were you dreaming about me?”

He nodded, about to speak and likely offer more apologies. But, before he gets the chance you push your lips to meet his.

The kiss is soft and gentle. At first, his lips don’t move against yours, and you start to pull back, worried you read the situation wrong. Fortunately, before your lips could even part from his, he’s pulled you back in. His hands find the side of your face and his lips pressed into yours with a bruising intensity. Slowly, his hands moved to your waist, holding you in place.

The feeling rushing through you was unlike any you’d ever experienced. His lips molded to yours so perfectly it was almost unbelievable. If you’re hands weren’t so preoccupied by his hair, you’d pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. With a move you didn’t think he’d possibly pull, Spencer bit into your lip, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to press further into the kiss, tracing your tongue with his.

Before you could fall completely into the kiss you pulled away to ask, “Spence, are you sure this is what you want?”

“I’ve been thinking about it since the day we met, Y/n.”

With that, he pulled you back in. His hands moved more surely on you, dipping below your shirt. The feeling of his skin on yours sent shockwaves through your body. You moved to take off his shirt in turn, desperate to feel even more of him. He was relentless, breaking free from your lips to drag his mouth down your neck and over your exposed collar bone.

You felt needier than ever, and evidently so did he. In another move you didn’t expect (maybe you should throw your expectations out the window at this point) he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap. With you straddling him, he moved to take your shirt off. Insecurity grabbed hold of you before you could push it away.

You stilled his hands in yours, “I haven’t let anyone see me like this in a long time. Just, please don’t be disappointed by what you see.”

His face morphed into one so full of love that it made your teeth ache.

“You’re my dream, Y/n. You’ll never, ever disappoint me.”

You let go of his hands and they resumed their previous journey, pushing up your shirt and letting that part of you be bare to him. Admittedly, you had to fight the urge to cover yourself, but when you saw his face you knew it was pointless. He was ogling you, not offensively, but more like he couldn’t believe you were actually in front of him.

“You’re so, so beautiful.”

His words didn’t erase the thoughts you had, but they certainly made them easier to ignore. Moving up from your waist, he went to cup your breast, fingers playing with your nipple which made your back arch into him. He took the opportunity to flip you over so you were laying underneath him. The weight of his body over you was heavenly. You felt him press himself into your center through his sweatpants. There were just thin layers of clothes between you now.

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been dying to.”

You’re stunned from words but you manage to nod your head. As he moved down your body, he took your shorts and panties with you, leaving you completely exposed. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel scared of the feeling or his reaction to you. With Spencer, you felt completely at home.

You felt him kiss down your things, teasing you in a way that made you feel completely crazy. His breath ghosted over your core, but he still hadn’t made contact with where you needed him most.

“Spencer, please.”

Hearing your voice must have broken his resolve. He dove in like a man starved. In the past, you hadn’t found yourself enjoying the presence on a man’s head between your legs. Not that you had much experience, but the men who had you in that way always seemed to treat it as a means to an end. One of the two boyfriends you’d had refused to go down on you at all, and the other wouldn’t unless you were completely shaved. Safe to say you didn’t feel like you were missing much.

Everything was different with Spencer. He licked into you there was no place he’d rather be. His tongue over traced over your cunt as he tried to find all the places that drove you wild, and god did he. The noises in the room were obscene, from the moans falling from your lips to the sound of his driving you to an orgasm.

You locked your hands in his hair, grinding into his face without even noticing that you were. You were so close, and you found the final push in his fingers. God, his beautiful fingers.

His mouth was on your clit as he pushed two digits into you, curling in before pulling out, over and over until your legs begin to shake. His unoccupied hand pressed on your lower stomach, building up the feeling until you burst.

You repeated a mantra of his name as you came harder than you can ever remember coming before. The sensation took you out for a minute, but when you came back down and looked down at Spencer, you saw him staring at you in awe and completely soaked.

“Fuck, Y/n. Have you, have you done that before? I think that was the sexist thing I’ve ever seen.”

You were confused for a moment, wondering why he’d think you hadn’t orgasmed before. That was before you felt the damp fabric of the bed beneath you.

“Oh! Oh god, uh, no I haven’t. I’m sorry I didn’t-“

“Don’t apologize for that, Y/n. Fuck, I’d spend the rest of my life between your legs if it meant I could see that again.”

The constat praise falling from him had you noticeably riled up, and you pulled him up, back on top of you.

“Spencer, please. I want you. I want you inside me.”

“Fuck, Y/n.”

He made incredibly quick work of his own pants, freeing himself. Your mouth dropped open as you took him in. He was big, the biggest you’d been with, and he was pretty. You would have drooled if it wasn’t for his lips pressing into yours. He ran his middle finger through your folds before grasping himself. He followed his own path and ran his member through your dripping cunt.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect.”

The pet name made you even more desperate, “Please, Spence. Fuck, please.”

He put you out of your misery, sinking into you in one motion. You had to adjust to his size, but the feeling of him inside you, as close to you as possible had you reeling. You bucked your hips up, urging him to move.

He gave you exactly what you wanted, pushing into you at a perfect pace as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

You were overcome and all you could mutter was “thank you, thank you, thank you” in time with each of his thrusts. When he started to push into you harder, you couldn’t help but squeeze down on him.

His hips stalled, “You’re gonna make me come, Y/n. You’re so fucking tight”

You let your hands take down his back, “Please, Spence. Want you to, want to feel you come in me.”

His pace picked up, and you could feel how close he was. Still he wasn’t done. His fingers again found your clit and rubbed circles on it.

“Need to feel you come on me first baby. Need you to come.”

His words made your head spin. It only took a few more thrusts before you were coming again, just as intense as the first time. You pulsed around him and it pushed him over the edge. You felt him come inside you, filling you completely.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, but you froze immediately after saying them, worried that you had ruined everything. But, just as he had done before, Spencer quelled your worries.

“I love you too. God, I love you.”

~

The next morning was bliss. You woke in Spencer’s arms, and let him into you again. The sex was slow and you each let the three words spill uninhibited.

When you went downstairs, ready to finish the case, you were met with the sheepish faces of your team.

Derek spoke first, “I’d say congratulations if you both weren’t so loud last night.”

While you were mortified, watching the rest of the team hold back their chuckles, you couldn’t help but agree that this was all a moment to celebrate.

End

let me know what you think!!

[pennyellee]

chapter IX - lacuna

LACRIMOSA | MYG MAFIA YANDERE AU

pairings: mafia leader!yoongi x f!reader

genre: mafia!au, yandere au, historical au

summary: Their interlocking gaze served as a butterfly effect on his heart, stirring it to the core. She, in turn, only dreams to find a way to escape. But perchance, over time she might forcefully learn to love the man who has taken so much from her.

Thus unfolds a twisted tale of love and loss, of hope and despair, of life and death. The music reverberated through the dimly-lit streets. Tears of sorrow, weeping symphony - reflects the hurt, the scars that linger deep within and the wounds that never healed. Lacrimosa.

warnings: minors dni 18+ | mafia au, dark!yoongi, mafia!yoongi, mentions of antidepressants, anxiety, panic attacks, nightmares, mentions of night terrors, mentions of self harm, manipulative behaviour, mentions of labotomy, medical cases, intimate life, diseases, “failed” pregnancy, alcohol, medication, etc.

beta read by @chaoticpuff17

word count: 8,7K

disclaimer: this story is purely fictional, it does not depict real-life events or involve any actual members of BTS. This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking, illegal activities, old social norms and traditions, which we do not condone.

A/N: so yes, it took me a while to actually finish this chapter and as I mentioned - it’s shorter than what I usually want to write for lacrimosa. Truth to be told, this is what I can do for now till I get something better to write on. I don’t know when the next chapter will be written and up, so for now thank you for your patience, i actually didnt think i would write a chapter whilst im in US coz the only device on my person is my phone, but im very happy I managed to write something. This chapter is more of a prequel go what’s going to happen next. Many of you actually guessed/predicted some things right and for some you have to wait till the very end, we’re near it.

Massive thank you goes to @chaoticpuff17 who managed to beta read it despite both our situations being crazy rn, ily queen 🥹🫧🩵

Love you all, p.

m.list

lacuna (n.) a blank space, missing part

The night was relentless, a symphony of thunderclaps and the steady drum of rain against the cobblestones. The celebrations of the famous Kkangpae toned down, and after some months, several trips to the barren debris land of where Yakuza reigned, they returned safely to the sanctuary.

Back where she cannot hide from him in the stables, kitchen or sunroom, switching from one room to another just to not be in his presence for longer than she wanted. Yet, he managed to steal her away when his frustration boiled up enough. Y/N could’ve hinted how much she doesn’t want him to sleep next to her all she wants, he kept sneaking in and out every time. Yoongi was patient, determined even. Determined to make things right this time by giving her space. But the wrenching feeling of not having her close enough consumed him, night, day and moon.

Yoongi kept his promise, giving Y/N the space she needed while gradually attempting to rebuild the trust that had been shattered. He was careful with his words, patient in his actions, and ever attentive to her unspoken needs. The pair worked on their friendship these past weeks, he wanted himself to be her person. The person that she would love and lean on.

But the young Buin might seem calm now, from outside, but her wit remained under the surface. She buried herself deep within her psyche and doctor Kim could do very little to “repair” her. Not even renown specialists who came to give the young girl a helping hand did not succeed.

Yoongi watched her from a distance yet at the same time he was so close, his heart aching with the knowledge that he was partly to blame for her withdrawal. He had been too harsh, too controlling. Now, he was paying the price. He wanted nothing more than to hold her, to whisper apologies and promises into her ear. But every time he approached, he could see the fear and distrust in her eyes. It was a barrier he didn't know how to break.

Wang Xiaoqing’s wisdom was passed onto her, they whispered. But truth to be told, the elder woman, may she rest in peace, underestimated the new blood. The following legacy. Now, her kin suffers.

Yoongi wishes he never used the letter as leverage against her nor let her read it. At night he wonders whether that would change things. Whether by now she would be in love with him just as much he’s in love with her.

He sat down with the rest of his family at the dinner table after she broke down with yet another panic attack. The dining room was oppressively silent, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension. It wasn’t even the end of January, and the snow was still prevailing outside. Yoongi sat at the head of the table, his expression a mask of stoic resolve, though his heart was anything but calm.

Y/N was conspicuously absent, her chair at the table glaringly empty. Yoongi's mind replayed the scene from earlier, the look of sheer panic in her eyes as she had crumbled under the weight of her emotions. He had wanted to reach out to her, to offer comfort, but he knew his presence would only worsen her distress.

Clearing his throat, Yoongi broke the silence, his voice strained but firm.

“I know you care about me. About this family—”

“I’ve made mistakes—mistakes that have pushed her to the edge.”

“No, Yoongi—” the right hand man straightened himself in his seat interrupting his leader.

Yoongi’s eyes flickered with a mixture of frustration and sorrow as he turned to face his right-hand man, Namjoon. The room held its breath, tension crackling in the air.

“Namjoon, please,” Yoongi said, his voice weary. “My wife slit her throat, stop justifying my actions.”

Namjoon hesitated but nodded, leaning back in his chair, his expression still troubled. Yoongi took a deep breath, steeling himself to continue.

"I pushed her too far, and now she's breaking—”

“Now, I don’t know what your intentions are with my wife, but I forbid you from whatever you are putting into her head.”

Namjoon's eyes widened in shock at Yoongi's words, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for the right response. The weight of Yoongi's accusation hung heavy in the air, and the room seemed to grow even quieter, the tension palpable.

Yoongi's jaw clenched, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. He had always trusted Namjoon implicitly, had relied on him as his closest confidant and advisor. But now, in the wake of Y/N's pain and suffering, he couldn't help but wonder if that trust had been misplaced.

“All of you.”

“Yoongi, I swear—” Namjoon began, his voice tinged with desperation. But Yoongi held up a hand, cutting him off.

“I don't want to hear it, Namjoon,” he said, his tone final.

“Whatever it is, I’m giving her the space to tell me herself.” Namjoon's gaze faltered under Yoongi's intense stare.

“I would never intentionally do anything to harm Y/N or come between you two. She's like family to me, too.” Yoongi's jaw clenched tighter, but he nodded curtly, acknowledging Namjoon's words.

“Seokjin.” He addressed the oldest man in the room.

“Yes, Yoongi?” Seokjin replied, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.

“She’s still taking those pills you gave her,” Seokjin's brow furrowed in concern at Yoongi's words. They were only a temporary solution before Seokjin decided that day to put her on barbiturates. She needs his help and if he cannot help her the way he knows it will be most effective, he’ll at least prescribe whatever will tone down her night terrors so she can sleep at nights.

"I'll talk to her," he said firmly. “But you know what would certainly help her—” Yoongi’s hand flew high to hit the table, making everybody twitch at the loud noise.

“No, Seokjin. No.” The family members exchanged solemn nods. Yoongi took a moment to compose himself, his chest heaving with pent-up frustration.

"She needs more support than we can provide on our own. We have to consider what's best for her.” Yoongi struggled to find the words to express his feelings. "I know, Seokjin," he replied, his voice thick with emotion. "But that is going way too far.”

Namjoon leaned forward, his expression earnest. The youngest at the end of the table cleared his throat. All eyes turned to him, waiting for his input. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of the tension in the room, before speaking up.

“Maybe you just need to stop shielding her in. Let her live a life—” Jungkook's suggestion hung in the air, a fresh perspective on the situation that caused the family members to exchange thoughtful glances.

Yoongi's brow furrowed as he considered Jungkook's words, the idea of allowing Y/N more freedom conflicting with his instinct to protect her.

“But what if she runs for the hills, Kook.” Park Jimin’s voice echoed from across the room, his hands busy pouring the strong liquor to seven crystal glasses. Yoongi's gaze flickered towards Jimin, setting the first glass in front of him.

"I can't bear the thought of her running away from me again," Yoongi admitted, his voice heavy with emotion. Hoseok nodded in agreement, his expression sombre.

Jungkook nodded thoughtfully, understanding Yoongi's apprehension. "I get where you're coming from, hyung,—” Jimin set down the last glass of liquor, his expression sympathetic.

“I’d say, nonetheless, she needs something to occupy her mind other than those thoughts.” Said Jimin sitting down on his chair while nursing his own glass of the booze.

"Maybe if we can find something that brings her joy, something to distract her—” Seokjin nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful.

“She studied, tasted her own freedom and now all she’s left with is being your wife.” Yoongi's heart clenched at Jimin's words, a pang of guilt washing over him. But still a large part of him was thinking why it is not enough.

“She can work with me once she’s better.” The doctor interjected. Yoongi's gaze shifted towards Seokjin, a flicker of hope igniting within him at the suggestion.

"You think she'd be up for it?" Yoongi asked, his voice tentative yet hopeful.

“Ah hyung you’re so in the dark—” Jungkook remarked. Jungkook sighed, his gaze meeting Yoongi's with empathy.

“She needs to feel like she has a say in her own life, like she's not just living for someone else.” Where this newfound wisdom arose, Yoongi did not know. But he was glad for the support of his family men.

Hoseok placed a reassuring hand on Yoongi's shoulder, his expression filled with empathy.

“She knows so much about herbs, remedies, I think she’ll be happy to help Seokjin.” Yoongi's heart swelled with gratitude for Hoseok's insight. He hadn't fully realised the extent of Y/N's knowledge and interests outside of their marriage and that needed to change.

“Don’t tell her just yet.” The right hand man remarked.

“Yes, I want to give her more time to recover before we come back to the sanctuary.” The other family members murmured their agreement, a sense of solidarity and understanding settling over them. After all, at the end of the day it is a happy wife, happy life.

—

But months later, Y/N understood that if there’s even a slight possibility that the scarred leader will grow for better, it would be a painfully long process. She realised so once he returned with his knuckles all bruised and bloodied one night. She tended to them, and he was basking under her touch. Despite everything, she couldn’t ignore the humanity in his pain.

Her eyes rolled and a loud sigh followed when she understood what was the cause of his lapse of senses. He had let his frustration and anger take over him, but rather than put it out on everyone else like he was known for, he silently left his office to vent his anger elsewhere. She guided him to sit down after she asked the maid to bring her everything she needed to clean his wounds.

Yoongi watched her, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and excitement under her delicate touch. The feel of her hands, so careful and tender, was both a comfort and a torment. The imagery masking all the darkness that loomed over them, they would fool even the Lord himself that this couple is one of love.

They sat in silence, the only sound the soft rustle of bandages and the distant rumble of thunder outside. Yoongi closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes to him. She avoided him less and less. So why did he have to let his steam off so suddenly?

“You know—” she began, focusing on his other hand now.

“You’re not really setting a good example of “communication is the key ”, now do you?”

Yoongi's eyes flickered open at her words, a hint of guilt flashing across his features before he quickly masked it with a neutral expression. He couldn't deny the truth in her statement, nor could he easily articulate the tangled mess of emotions that swirled within him.

His mind drifted back to the hushed whispers, the concerned looks from Seokjin. Y/N was still fairly weak in terms of her health. Yet, he hoped that maybe, just maybe, she’ll come to tell him he’s going to be a father. Foolish of him, he knows. Selfish of him, he knows that too.

“I’m sorry, Dove.” He only muttered, forcing a kiss to her sphenoid bone, it was the only affection she rarely allowed him to show. Y/N knew that if she wanted to persuade him that she isn’t a flying risk, she’ll have to allow him to do more. She progressed slowly, with patience and space to breathe everything out.

The reason the young leader needed to vent his anger was obvious to Y/N. She heard the maid that so blatantly spied on everything she did, what she asked for, and whom she talks to on the telephone. Y/N was cautious, yet today, she had to ask for some feminine goods. She understood where his hope for a baby came from, he got himself to believe that once the monthly bleeding did not come the first, second nor the third month.

The young gal, however, knew that this has nothing to do with the possibility of her being pregnant. She still drank the remedy, just to be sure, and for her peace of mind as it bore too many demons already. The fourth month her body decided it’s time to function again and of course the devoted maid reported that right back to her husband whose hope for a child vanished.

“I was hoping we could go see Ma and little Bo Cheng before the wedding, I promised to teach him how to ride a ho—” she began her request carefully. Y/N had managed to negotiate Daiyu’s extended vacation in America with her young son and Kai, yet she couldn’t shake the strong feeling that Yoongi had only allowed such a thing to happen because he felt indebted to her at the moment. Her state was far more delicate than he thought and he desperately wanted to make her happy. The one thing she wanted the most, he couldn’t grant. Freedom.

“Would that make you happy?” Yoongi interrupted. He sighed, his eyes drifting to the window where dark clouds gathered on the horizon.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a small, hesitant smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. It was a fragile thing, easily shattered, but it was real. And in that moment, Yoongi vowed to himself that he would protect that smile, nurture it, and help it grow.

“Yes, it would. Maybe we could also pay a visit to Daiyu—” Y/N sucked her lips in and shyly smiled again. Yoongi nodded slowly. He sighed, leaning back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrests. The weight of their precarious situation pressed down on him, the knowledge that every decision could have far-reaching consequences hanging over them like a dark cloud.

“I’m not sure about that, sweetling,” he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Her heart clenched, did he understand her intentions?

“You said you’ll give me the world, Yoongi. Why not this?” Y/N’s smile faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing her features.

Yoongi’s gaze softened further, a mixture of regret and longing in his eyes. He reached out, taking her hand in his, his touch gentle and reassuring.

“I will consider this trip, but we have to be cautious now. War is looming on the horizon.” He explained, his tone serious.

“What do you mean war? You’ve just won one,” she challenged, her voice laced with disbelief.

“The world is a volatile place, Dove. Our battle was nothing in comparison to what is to come. The world will fight—” Yoongi’s expression darkened, the weight of their past victories suddenly overshadowed by the looming threat of conflict. Y/N’s heart sank at the mention of war, a cold knot forming in the pit of her stomach.

“Until we’re certain there’s no threat, I want us to remain in Korea, my love.” he declared, his final words.

Y/N’s heart sank at his words, but she forced herself to nod, understanding the gravity of their situation. The war threatened to consume them all, and they had to tread carefully if they were to survive. Y/N nodded slowly to his words.

“She wrote to you this morning, didn’t she?” Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that she’s running out of time. If they were caught up in the chaos, she feared she may never leave this place. And with Yoongi’s resolve to remain in Korea, their window of opportunity grew smaller with each passing moment. It was worth the shot, he wouldn’t let her slip that easily if there’s an actual threat that the world’s will battle.

“She met someone,” Y/N added softly, her voice tinged with uncertainty of how Yoongi will react. He, however, already knew. There was nothing that would go past him or so he thought.

"She met someone?" he repeated, his voice tinged with false scepticism. Y/N's heart ached at the doubt in Yoongi's voice, but she held firm in her conviction.

“She’s a widow with a child, who—”

“Happy widow with a child—” she inserted herself into his remark. "She deserves it, Yoongi. After everything she's been through, she deserves a chance at love and happiness.”

“Daiyu is no longer tied to the syndicate. You promised not to meddle with her affairs unless she needs help.” She reminded him less gently, her voice tinged with a hint of caution.

“I intend to keep that promise.” Lie. He already knew the man who so openly started to court her. A sense of relief washed over Y/N as she watched Yoongi's resistance soften, even if it was pretended.

“The rain won’t stop pouring—” Y/N’s voice trailed off, a sombre note creeping into her tone as she glanced out the window at the stormy sky.

“How do you feel today?” Yoongi observed Y/N for a moment, his expression softening as he took in her weary demeanour.

“Better than yesterday.” She replied, her voice carrying a hint of resilience. Yoongi nodded, a sense of relief washing over him at her response. Despite the challenges they faced, he was grateful for every moment of peace they could find amidst the storm.

He noticed the subtle signs of improvement in her appearance. Her cheeks, once sunken and lifeless, now held a hint of colour, and the dark circles under her eyes seemed less pronounced. Her eyes sparkled differently, not with tears as of late. Whatever Seokjin is doing to help her, it is working.

“Have you slept well?” he inquired gently, his voice filled with genuine concern. From Monday to Friday, storms reigned over the hidden valley. Yoongi reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face, his touch tender and reassuring. Her dark hair grew enough to reach past her shoulders since the unfortunate event back in October.

“It wasn't the best, but it was better than before.” Yoongi nodded in understanding, his gaze lingering on her with a mixture of admiration and concern. He knew that even the smallest victories, like a few hours of sleep, were worth celebrating in their tumultuous world. After all the night terrors she endured for months.

“How’s working with Seokjin?” He knew how demanding their roles could be, especially in the midst of ongoing turmoil. Yoongi expected her to sigh just as softly as she always does, her expression to reflect the weight of responsibility, but none of that happened. Y/N smiled at him brightly instead.

Y/N's smile was like a ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds, momentarily dispelling the shadows that lingered around them.

“Work has been great. I've been able to help so many people—” she replied, her voice infused with a sense of optimism that Yoongi hadn't heard in a while. As she spoke, Y/N’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm, a stark contrast to the weariness that had plagued her in recent months.

“Did you know that punk, Jungkook, pretends to be sick every other day just to swing by?” Y/N’s voice was filled with amusement as she recounted the antics of the youngest of the seven. Though older than her, she did not feel any age difference between them two.

Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle at the mention of Jungkook's antics.

"That sounds like him," he remarked, a fond smile playing at his lips. She continued, her words flowing freely as she recounted her experiences while working with Seokjin at the clinic.

“Seokjin has been a wonderful mentor,” she continued, her eyes shining with gratitude. “He’s taught me so much more than we actually studied at school—” Yoongi nodded in agreement, a sense of pride swelling within him as he listened to Y/N's tales of their work at the clinic.

“I remember this one young man who had sustained severe burns on his arms. The sight of his injuries was heart-breaking, but I could see the determination in his eyes to overcome the pain.” Y/N’s voice softened with emotion as she recalled the moment.

"We worked tirelessly to stabilise him, and when he finally regained consciousness, the look of gratitude in his eyes made all the long hours and hard work worth it. It was a reminder of why I wanted to be a nurse in the first place—to make a difference in people’s lives, no matter how small.”

Yoongi listened intently, his heart swelling with a mixture of emotions. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret for not allowing her to pursue her passion for nursing earlier.

He may not be able to undo the past, but he could certainly make sure that she had all the support she needed to thrive in the future. The youngest was right. She needed this, she needed to regain her purpose in her life. To be someone for herself.

He realised how much he had underestimated her need for work, how vital it was for her to have a sense of purpose and fulfilment. There was still hope and goodness.

Yoongi listened to all the stories she had to say as for the first time since forever, there were no tears, no screams, no tension in the air. Just the calm, steady rhythm of their shared breaths.

“You know,” Yoongi began, his voice soft, "I'm proud of you. Proud of everything you've accomplished and the progress you’re making. I should have let you do this sooner.”

“Can’t change the past now can we?” He nodded to her remark solemnly, squeezing her hand.

“Tell me more,—” he urged, eager to hear more about her work, her passion. He wanted to be part of her world just like she is part of his, to support her in every way possible.

Y/N smiled, her face glowing with happiness. “Well, there’s this little girl named Jang-mi. She’s been coming in for treatment regularly, and despite everything, she's always so cheerful—”

—

Y/N pulled her coat tighter around her, feeling the icy water seep through the fabric. Her breath came in shallow gasps, mixing with the cold air to form small clouds that dissipated as quickly as they appeared. She huddled beneath the overhang of a small alley, her body shivering uncontrollably. The once comforting weight of her coat now felt like a burden, soaked and heavy.

Her mind raced, a chaotic swirl of fear and desperation. The past few days had been a whirlwind of terror and confusion. She had trusted the wrong people, made alliances that crumbled under the weight of deceit. Every step she took seemed to lead her deeper into a labyrinth of danger and uncertainty. She couldn’t afford another mistake; the stakes were too high. The sound of her own heartbeat was loud in her ears, a constant reminder of the life-or-death game she was playing.

A sudden flash of lightning split the sky, casting stark shadows and illuminating the alley in a harsh, white light. For a brief moment, everything was clear and sharp, every detail etched into her memory. That’s when she saw him.

At the mouth of the alley is where he stood , his figure backlit by the brilliant light. He was drenched, his hair plastered to his forehead, but he seemed unfazed by the torrential rain. His presence was as menacing as ever, a dark silhouette against the night. His eyes, however, were what held her captive. They were dark, deep pools of unreadable emotion, reflecting the storm’s fury.

Yoongi didn’t move, didn’t speak. He simply watched her, his gaze intense and unwavering. It was a look she had seen before, one that sent chills down her spine. It was the look of a predator sizing up its prey. She knew then, with a sickening certainty, that no matter how far she ran, he would always be one step ahead.

Panic surged through her, threatening to overwhelm her senses. She pressed herself against the wall, the rough brick scraping her skin through the thin material of her coat. She needed to think, to find a way out, but her mind was a blur of fear and fatigue. The rain continued to pour, the cold seeping into her bones, making her limbs feel heavy and uncooperative.

Yoongi took a step forward, the movement slow and deliberate. His boots splashed in the puddles, the sound muffled by the storm. Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, a wild, frantic rhythm. She felt like a trapped animal, cornered with no way out. The alley was a dead end, and Yoongi was blocking her only escape route.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the noise of the storm. “You can’t keep running.”

His words were a cold, hard truth that she didn’t want to accept. But she had no choice. Every attempt to escape had led her right back to him, like a cruel game of cat and mouse. She swallowed hard, her throat dry despite the rain. She had to keep fighting, had to find a way to break free from his grip.

“I won’t let you control me,” she said, her voice shaking but determined. “I’ll find a way out.”

Yoongi’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, perhaps, or admiration for her defiance. “You’re stronger than I thought,” he said, taking another step closer. “But strength alone won’t save you.”

He was close now, close enough that she could see the droplets of rain clinging to his eyelashes, the way his clothes clung to his body. His presence was overwhelming, a dark force that seemed to consume all the light around him. She knew she had to act, had to do something before it was too late.

Summoning every ounce of courage, Y/N pushed off the wall and lunged towards him, hoping to catch him off guard. But Yoongi was ready. His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist with a grip like iron. She struggled, twisting and pulling, but he was too strong.

“Let me fucking go!” she cried, her voice breaking with desperation.

Yoongi pulled her closer, his other hand coming up to cup her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “You’re mine, Y/N,” he said softly, his breath warm against her skin. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if it means protecting you from yourself.”

Tears mingled with the rain on her cheeks as she realised the futility of her struggle. Yoongi’s words were a chilling promise, one that she knew he would keep. She was trapped, caught in a web of his making, with no way out.

The storm raged on around them, but in that moment, all Y/N could feel was the cold, unyielding grip of the man she used to fear, and the inescapable reality of her situation.

Y/N woke with a start, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the remnants of the nightmare clung to her mind. Her body was drenched in cold sweat, and her heart pounded wildly in her chest. For a moment, she couldn’t discern reality from the dream, the vivid images of the rain-soaked alley and Yoongi’s menacing presence still haunting her.

It was a memory that was hidden in the back of her mind to resurface when she’s the most vulnerable. It had happened a few times already, her mind showing her each time she attempted to escape the scarred leader.

She took a deep breath and listened to the mix of crackling fireplace and raindrops outside. His eyes were on her petite physique, his hands holding a book he was reading while she took a well deserved afternoon nap. He put down his reading glasses and ran a hand through his hair, closing the book and turning her attention to her.

“Which one was it this time?”

She turned to see him sitting beside her, his eyes filled with worry. The contrast between the Yoongi in her nightmare and the one before her now was stark. Gone was the cold, calculating predator; in his place was a man who genuinely cared for her well-being. He did change a little. Or maybe he was like that before but his selfishness didn’t allow him to show her his bright side.

Her legs moved to his lap when she was asleep, and he gently rubbed circles into her ankles, his touch soothing for once.

“Will you keep me safe?”

Yoongi's expression softened further, his gaze unwavering as he looked into her eyes. He knows that there were moments that haunt her till now. Moments he let happen with his cockiness.

“Always,” he replied, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”

“I just... I don’t want to be afraid anymore,” she admitted, her voice breaking slightly.

“Just rest, Dove,” Yoongi murmured, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. “I’ll be right here.”

After a few silent minutes, Y/N broke the calm silence.

“Can we play the piano?”

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Together, they moved to the old piano in the corner of the room. As they sat side by side, their fingers tentatively began to touch the keys. Each note was a delicate thread, weaving together a tapestry of their unspoken emotions. The music became their secret language, a way to say everything they couldn’t put into words.

Every time she did not feel like speaking herself, they played. Until she felt better. Yoongi played with a gentle intensity, his fingers dancing over the keys with practised ease.

He was a better player, so she thought. Afterall, he had had more life to practice.

The medication made her more open to him. Sooner or later she’ll have to get off of it before it will become her only source of happiness. There were days it made her sleep well, drink, eat, breathe and live like the person she used to be. And there were days she sat in front of her vanity mirror knowing this effect is only temporary.

She cannot afford to get off of them while she’s remaining by his side. Her being would not take it and the prospect of freedom would be scarce. It blunted negative emotions which worked in the scarred boy’s favour.

It was working, but it was a question of time when she’ll develop tolerance and they won’t work anymore. That’s why Seokjin is desperately trying to convince Yoongi that he’ll have a way to help her. Permanently.

Yoongi knows that it would be just another mistake he would have to write under his name.

“I’ll always keep you safe,” he whispered again, his words a promise and a plea. And in the quiet aftermath of their duet, she almost believed him.

In that fleeting moment, she wasn’t running, and Yoongi wasn’t chasing. They were simply two souls, lost in the music, trying to find their way back to each other. One more than the other.

His hand moved to cover hers on the keys, their eyes meeting in the stillness that followed. The world outside ceased to exist, the rain and the fire a distant backdrop to the intensity of their shared gaze.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Yoongi leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. Her heart raced, not with fear, but with a different kind of anticipation.

Their faces were inches apart, the unspoken words hanging in the air between them. His eyes flickered to her lips, then back to her eyes, seeking permission, seeking assurance. Y/N’s breath hitched, her mind a whirlwind of emotions.

“Unnie?!” Xiaoli's voice rang out, bright and oblivious. “We need to talk about—”

“Can you keep me safe from my own sister?” She scoffed playfully. His chuckle bounced on her lips as his lips still hovered just a breath away from hers, the paper door swung open with a sudden, sharp creak.

Taehyung stepped in behind her, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. "Oh. We’re... interrupting, aren’t we?”

Yoongi pulled back slightly, his expression darkening as he turned to face them. Y/N felt the moment slipping away, the fragile connection disrupted.

“What is it?” Yoongi asked, his voice strained with barely concealed irritation.

“You invited us to have dinner, Hyung.” Taehyung reminded him, his tone a mix of apology and amusement.

Xiaoli’s eyes darted between Yoongi and Y/N, realisation dawning on her face. “Oh... we’re really sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in, Kkangpae Min.”

She apologised, still not her but always to him and him only. Y/N forced herself to smile. The woman that her sister became is not the same one she grew up with.

“There was nothing to interrupt, don’t worry,” she waved it off and Yoongi sighed, the tension in his shoulders evident.

—

The fleeting moment of intimacy with Y/N hung heavily in his mind. Before, during and after the dinner. He was extravagantly close to feel her lips on his again, just for the moment to be swept away.

Dinner was a mix of awkward silences and forced conversation. Xiaoli and Taehyung tried to lighten the mood, but the air was thick with unspoken words.

Yoongi, for his part, seemed distant, his mind clearly elsewhere. Every so often, his gaze would meet hers across the table.

“Will you come next week?” Xiaoli asked, sipping her wine.

Y/N, momentarily distracted from her thoughts, looked up.

“Next week?”

Y/N glanced at Yoongi, who was already looking at her. She hesitated, unsure of committing to anything he did not allow earlier.

“Yes, Y/N promised Bo Cheng to teach him how to ride a horse, and I have some business to attend to.” Yoongi cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

“I could teach him,” Said Xiaoli, a bit jealous that their brother wanted Y/N to teach him when she was right there in the hotel.

Once Xiaoli and Taehyung will be with each other for eternity, the family of three then, will take their leave back to China.

The Triad leader attended his own business trips while his wife and children stayed with the “allying” clan.

He doesn’t know. None of them knows what Y/N did to herself, apart from Xiaoli, who herself doesn’t know every detail. They spreaded white lies to cover this “lapse of senses”. A misstep. Y/N hides the fading scar carefully to avoid any explanation. She wished to not tell them, and the kkangpae did not object to her wishes anymore. Whatever she wants, she gets. Usually, most of the time if she’s reasonable and clever about it.

The past months painstakingly helped them to get better. Or so Yoongi thought. Her priority was never to be his good wife, her priority is him thinking she will be his good obedient loving wife and when he won’t expect her to seek freedom anymore — she’ll disappear.

“I don't know about that, honey. You remember that nasty fall you took last year?” Her husband-to-be said nonchalantly. Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion.

“Fall?—“ she asked, doubting his words.

“What are you talking about?” Xiaoli herself was surprised at his words. She did not recall any falls. Y/N knew Xiaoli isn’t the best rider, but she was decent enough to hold any situation that would make her fall from the horse under control.

“I don’t remember that,—” she said, taking another long sip from her glass.

“You’d certainly remember falling from a horse. Why don’t I know about this, Yoongi?” Said Y/N turning herself to the quiet man.

“I was having a hard time keeping you here as you loved to go for a run back then. It must have slipped my mind—“

“My sister falling from a horse slipped your mind?”

“He did not know Y/N, until a lot later. Right, Hyung?” Taehyung smiled sweetly at her, defending his Kkangpae. As always. Y/N clicked her tongue and gifted Yoongi with a penetrating stare creating another layer of tension in the room.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He cleared his throat, attempting to gather his thoughts. The last thing he wants is to mess up their relationship again.

“You’re right, love. I should have told you once I got to know that,” Yoongi admitting guilt is a new trait he acquired these past months.

“How did she fall?” Y/N aimed her question at Taehyung as her sister clearly doesn't remember it.

“It wasn’t probably that bad if I don’t remember it, Unnie. Don’t worry about it anymore—“ the younger female answered before her fiance had the chance to do so.

Y/N sighed loudly but the hand under the table that was gripping her younger sister’s thigh was not seen by her eyes.

—

It was hard to keep focus, especially with Seokjin constantly needing her assistance at work. His stern demeanour and meticulous nature kept her on her toes, but she appreciated the distraction. She knew why she was at his beck and call. Yoongi demanded so. Under any circumstances she ought to be next to Seokjin.

The ambulance in the sanctuary was significantly smaller than the big sanitorium in the town, but there was still some work to do here too.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and studying her intently.

“The usual,” she murmured, filling today’s report. Seokjin watched her for a moment, then brought the courage to ask.

“Have you been intimate?” Y/N dropped the pen at once and with wide eyes. She stared at him. The question came out of nowhere nor was it called for.

“Wh-what do you mean intimate?”

“Exactly what I said,” he replied calmly, not breaking eye contact.

“Have you been intimate with Yoongi again?”

“I don’t see how this is your business, Seokjin.” She felt her face flush with heat, a mix of embarrassment and anger.

“I’m not trying to pry. I’m your friend, but I’m also your doctor, sweetling—,” he said softly.

“Your health and well-being are my concern,” Seokjin explained. “And you know that if something’s affecting you emotionally or physically, it could impact your health.”

Bullcrap, he is in fact prying.

She was silent for a minute, trying to comprehend how he is taking care of her being this late. If she wouldn’t attempt to kill herself, these concerns wouldn’t be as great. But Y/N cannot afford to break havoc. She can’t go on rampage as she wants every single person here to think that she is moving towards being a good obedient wife of the Kkangpae. Even though she wants to scream to each and one of their faces about how much they failed her. How much they hurt her. Yet, patience is the key. Breathe, sleep, eat, endure.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, then decided to change the topic.

“What about your wife?” Seokjin’s eyes flickered with surprise before he masked it with a neutral expression. Y/N barely knew the woman. Matter of fact she has seen her maybe three times since the wedding.

“Very much pregnant,” he said, his voice a mix of pride and weariness.

“Oh,” Y/N replied, taken aback. “I didn’t know. Congratulations, I guess.” Here comes another thing that Yoongi managed to keep from her.

“Thank you, my dear,” Seokjin said, a small smile touching his lips. “It’s been… an interesting journey, to say the least.”

“I can imagine,—” Y/N said, sensing there was more beneath the surface.

“Can you imagine yourself on that journey?” Seokjin interrupted, his gaze searching her face.

She pretended that the question took her by surprise, looking down at her hands to not give herself away.

“I don’t know,” she admitted softly. He is testing her. “It’s hard to think about that kind of future with everything that’s going on.”

Seokjin nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It’s understandable. But it’s something to consider. Maybe a baby would help you to shush your demons away.”

Y/N’s heart raced at the suggestion, and she forced herself to maintain her composure. “I… I don’t think a baby is the answer, Seokjin. There’s so much I need to sort out first.”

“Sometimes, having something to focus on, something to live for, can make all the difference,” Seokjin said gently.

She nodded, still feeling uneasy about the direction of the conversation. Opting not to give more than she would want to by not answering his remark and going back to finish the report.

“Just know that you have options. And that you don’t have to go through any of this alone.”

“Thanks,” she replied, offering a small smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Of course she won’t.

—

Y/N entered the dimly lit room where Yoongi was sitting, his face illuminated by the soft glow of a lamp. He looked up as she closed the door behind her, his expression softened once he looked up from the papers. The office in the sanctuary remained the same apart from the fact that now the young Kkangpae occupies it far more often than before.

He took his glasses off and pushed himself away from the desk creating a space for her to come and stand in front of him, leaning against the massive wooden desk. Her hands felt the warmth of the wood that had been heated by the lamp, reflecting the same heat that radiated between them.

“Did you ask Seokjin to put thoughts into my head?” she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her.

Yoongi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask him to, but I knew he would at some point try to give you some wisdom. What did he say?”

“That a baby would be the right treatment for me,” she replied, her voice tight with frustration.

Yoongi’s eyes widened slightly, then he closed them and exhaled deeply.

“I’m sorry, Dove—“

“Do you think that too?” she asked, searching his face. “That a baby would magically fix everything?”

Yoongi shook his head, stepping up from his chair and closer to her. “No, I don’t. A baby isn’t a solution to our problems—“ she didn’t believe one word that was coming out of this mouth. He wouldn’t break his knuckles this hard if he didn’t want the baby that Y/N took care of not happening anytime soon. Her system was full of herbal remedies. And now that she knows, the herbs flowing in her system are working, she can use that to her advantage.

“But that would make you happy right?” She countered, seeing through him. Softening her mimics to appeal to him.

“Well, yeah, I want a family with you someday—“

“Someday? The bandages on your knuckles says that you’re pretty eager to have it now—” she scoffed and murmured under her nose.

Yoongi’s eyes for once reflected something she couldn’t quite recognise. There was a mix of desperation and longing that flickered there. His hand reached out, trembling slightly, and cupped her cheek gently.

“Dove, I want us to be happy, truly happy. But I know bringing a child into this world won’t erase your pain or solve our problems. We need to fix ourselves first—” His thumb brushed her cheek tenderly.

“I’m sorry for being selfish, my love,” she felt a tear escape her eye, rolling down to where his thumb could catch it. She closed her eyes for a moment, leaning into his touch because that’s what always softens his edges.

After months, she has learnt what strings to pull to make him move just the way she wants to. Yet, Y/N knows that he isn’t that stupid to believe she suddenly wants to live with him happily ever after.

“I can pour us some wine. We can play the piano after dinner, hm?” He could feel her vulnerability, her heart laid bare before him. Or so he thought as she wanted him to think that. His hand continued to caress her cheek softly, his touch gentle yet laden with unspoken longing she sensed each time he attempted to get closer to her.

She nodded, a small pretentious smile playing on her lips as she stepped closer to him. The tension between them lingered.

He pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her forehead. “We will be good. We just need time with each other.”

He sat first, patting the space beside him, inviting her to join. Her fingers brushed the keys, eliciting a soft, mournful note. A melody that echoed in her mind far too often. An anthem for hurting. Weeping symphony, tears of sorrow.

He became far too respectful towards her boundaries which essentially was ruining all of her plans. Her fingers pressed the keys with delicate touch even when she wanted to smash them rock hard.

“Why this song?” She let the question hang in the air for a moment, her fingers poised above the keys as if weighing his words.

“Do you know what they interpret it as?” She finally said, her voice soft, barely audible above the lingering notes. Her eyes, once masked with a facade of calm, now revealed a flicker of the anguish she carried.

“Tell me,” he flipped the page of the notes book for her to continue the song.

“It’s a tale of unspoken grief, of wounds too deep to heal and shadows that never leave.”

He felt a shiver run down his spine as she said that. Part of him understood what message she was trying to leave and part of him wished he’s wrong.

“I view it as love lost and dreams shattered. They say it’s a lament for those who wander through life carrying burdens no one else can see.”

He carefully listened to all her words, all the notes she played, all her feelings she shared. Her fingers moved over the keys, each note a whisper of sorrow.

“The scars I carry inside,—“ His hand reached out to touch hers, a gesture of comfort. Stopping her from playing more.

“Let me help you carry that weight—“

“You created it in the first place.”

His eyes widened, a mixture of guilt and realisation flooding his expression. She pulled her hand away.

“The scars I carry, the emptiness I feel, they all trace back to you.”

His mind raced to comprehend the depth of her pain, trying to understand her intentions. It’s not like he ever expected her to say it out loud.

“You created emptiness in me Yoongi—“

He felt his heart clench with guilt and regret. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. It was nothing new. She heard his apologies but she was yet to accept them

She turned back to the piano, her fingers resting on the keys but not playing. “Intentions don’t change the past,” she said softly. “The pain remains—“

“But the future can learn from mistakes.”

“I will. I’ll learn—“ He began before she interrupted him.

“You need to fill the space now.” His eyes lit up listening to her words. In his mind, this was it. The holy grail. In her mind, she was wrapping him around her finger before she would bounce away like a pebble on the pond.

“Heal me if you must.”

These were her last words before the distance between them shrank, the intensity of their emotions drawing them closer. He leaned in, his heart pounding in his chest that she could almost hear it but Y/N didn’t pull away.

Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss, a delicate brush that spoke of apology, of yearning, and of promises yet to be fulfilled. Her heart cried and the song remained echoing in her mind.

As they pulled back slightly, their foreheads resting against each other, Yoongi felt a warmth spread through him, chasing away the cold shadows of regret. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. His thoughts were swirling with one thing only — this was the real beginning of them. And it was the beginning.

The beginning of the end.

I N T E R L O G U E

The walls were lined with bookshelves, each shelf overflowing with dusty tomes and old papers. A large, ornate desk stood in the centre, its surface cluttered with stacks of documents.

Seokjin rarely sends her to this room as they also rarely stay in the hanok the sanctuary has for medical assistance to those who live here.

She approached slowly, her fingers brushing over the worn leather of a chair before settling on a stack of yellowed files that he asked to bring. It was then when her eyes caught the opened crimson red files that laid flat open on the desk. The ones that the doctor forgot to take with him the other time he had to run and tend to the lady of the house in the middle of the night. They stayed there, laid open, for several weeks. Touched by a thin layer of dust on top of it.

Kim Seokjin is renowned in his field of practice. Yet, this was going to be his great mistake. Inside, there were detailed medical records, notes written in a precise, almost mechanical hand. The words on the pages made her stomach churn—phrases like “prefrontal lobotomy,” “behavioural correction,” and “psychosurgical intervention” leapt out at her. She read on, horrified by the cold, clinical descriptions of procedures that seemed more like torture than treatment.

Her hand flew to her mouth to not let the wailing cry away.

Trembling, she pushed the file aside and reached for the next one. Not bearing what they’ve done to her sister. Y/N’s hands shook as she read through the files, each word a dagger to her heart. The clinical detachment with which the procedures were described made her feel sick. These were not just medical records—they were accounts of inhuman experiments carried out in the name of science, or more so — control.

The name on this file was all too familiar, it was Jin’s wife. He must have done it before the wedding as she seemed far too calm. Her heart pounded in her chest as she opened it, fearing what she might find. The contents were similar—detailed accounts of medical procedures, records of a lobotomy performed in a desperate attempt to “cure” her of what the notes described as “hysteria” and “unmanageable behaviour.”

Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She stumbled back from the desk, her mind reeling from the revelations. The room seemed to close in around her, the shadows deepening as the weight of what she had discovered settled on her shoulders.

The name on the empty file under those made her anxious, hysteric even more as the tag had Min Y/N written on it.

She wiped her tears but they couldn't stop falling.

“Y/N?”

.

.

.

tag list: @beautifulcloudfestival - @honsoolgloss - @jingerbreadoutofstock - @moscow778 - @januara26 - @dinosolecito - @yoongislatinagff - @xyahrinx - @hi12345567 - @nochuel - @deltamoon666 - @bbkissme99 - @darkuni63 - @nansasa - @sazsazsaz - @missmin - @strxwbloody - @royallyjjk - @jaiuneamesolitaiire - @shadowyjellyfishfest - @bbgniecyy - @elayne321 - @seojunandsoju - @bun-27 - @whipwhoops - @wobblewobble822 - @whofan88 - @haneyyyyyy - @lostgirlinthewoodss - @secfir - @btspurplesky - @elleflying07 - @pamzn - @megseungmin - @selenophileforlife - @idkjustlovingbts - @seonghwaexile - @catlove83

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

What I Want... Pt. 2 | William Killick x fem!reader

summary: Getting caught by your father was not exactly how you thought your night would end... you can think of a better way but fate has its way of interfering whenever it wants.

warnings: smut, age gap, taboo, war, death, losing one's virginity, body image, insecurity, dub con, penetration, unprotected, semi-public.

*I rewrote this fan fiction to be in the 2nd person because I've been so inspired by @queenshelby's style of writing. Let me know if you like this way better or if you prefer the old narration style ("I" or "she").

word count: 3740k

Just Wait Till Next Year- John Maus 🎵

Moon River- Frank Ocean 🎶

A light in your father’s bedroom switched on, illuminating the lace curtains in the window. Officer Killick looked up and cursed beneath his breath, loudly enough to alert you as you rested beside him. 

“Oh no,” you gasped and grabbed your romper from the ground. 

“It’s ok. Put on your clothes and do as I say,” William told you softly and buckled his pants. He found his dinner jacket and draped it over his arm, first removing a cigarette from the breast pocket and lighting up. You scrambled into your romper and combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to settle the messy bird’s nest that your hair had become. William puffed on his cigarette briefly and once satisfied that it looked as if it had been smoked for longer than it actually had, gestured to the fountain behind them. 

“Sit on the edge and put your feet in the water.” You did as you were told, swinging your legs over the side of the fountain and letting them sit in the deep water. The wetness between your legs became cold as you arranged herself on the cool stone.

“You came out here to apologize, we’ve been talking, I’ve been smoking. You’be been in the water this whole time, far away from me. Understand?” William spoke calmly and leaned against one of the trees near the fountain. Not so much as a second later, your father stepped through the screen door. 

“Officer Killick, I hope-” your father stopped, having seen his daughter beside the fountain, “Y/N? I was expecting to find Officer Killick out here, not you. What are you doing in the fountain? Come out of there at once!” 

You could almost see the movement of your father’s mustache flick from side to side as he reprimanded you. 

“Yes, sir.” You swung your legs out of the fountain and stood, trying to hide how shaky they were when you stood still. The cover of darkness hid the muscle spasms that rippled across your body just beneath your skin. 

“What were you doing out here?” Your father questioned you, beckoning with his large, doctorly hands. 

“I was apologizing to Officer Killick. I was… rude at the dinner table and I wanted him to know that I was sorry for speaking to him in that way.” You glanced over your shoulder at the young officer, now standing alert, pretending as if the doctor’s presence had surprised him. William’s blue eyes penetrated the darkness, finding yours in the light and smiled. Everything was going to be ok, they said.

“It’s alright,” he looked at your father and nodded curtly, “no hard feelings. I apologize that I haven’t been the most polite to your daughter, sir. I’m afraid the air force has made me impartial to formalities.” His voice sounded easy and dignified, strong against the anxiety you both felt at their predicament. 

“Not at all, Killick. I’m glad my daughter got an opportunity to speak with you. God knows the war’s been hard on all of us. At least you’ve made up.” 

You were too unnerved to snort or laugh at all. All you could manage to do was smile and nod at your father, validating his oblivious perspective. 

“I’ll go to bed now, goodnight Officer Killick, goodnight Papa.” You kissed your father briskly on the cheek and walked as normally as you could to the screen door. Only when you were inside did your legs give out their strength and you had to sit on the bench beside the door. When you were out of sight, your father spoke to the young man. 

“I apologize for my daughter, Killick. She can get over-excited from time to time. Moving out of London seemed to change her in that regard. I hope she didn’t bother you too much out here.”

“Not at all, sir. I just needed a moment alone and the garden was irresistible. I had just finished a cigarette when she found me out here. No harm done.”  

“Good, good.” You heard your father respond and imagined him nodding as William held his second cigarette between two fingers. 

“I came to speak to you about something important,” your father started to break an uncomfortable silence. 

“Yes, sir?” William cleared his throat and stubbed out his cigarette. More silence fell between the two men, you tried to steady your hands on your knees as you listened. 

“After our discussion at dinner, it is hard to approach this topic again but I received a letter this afternoon. I was going to tell you at dinner but the moment seemed inappropriate. I decided I was going to tell you tomorrow or perhaps the day after, but I found that I could not sleep without informing you.” 

You strained your neck towards the door to hear more clearly. Your father cleared his throat and aligned his weight between his feet. William furrowed his stoic brow and braced himself for bad news. All he could think about was the lingering smell of your skin in his nose as he watched the doctor struggle to convey his news. 

“It is my duty to inform you that you have been awarded the George Cross for your bravery and courage in combat.” 

William was silent as he processed what the doctor was saying. He fought against his instinct to spit and reject the award, a phony piece of medal to distract him from what he had done and witnessed in the war. You stopped yourself from gasping as you heard the news through the door. 

“What about my men who died during those days on the Greek islands? Will they be rewarded for their sacrifice?” William tried not to sneer as he asked. He wished he had a cigarette again. 

“The British men who were with you after you crash landed and gave their lives to the crown will receive this award as well, posthumously. You are the only survivor, as you know, so you are the only one who will receive this award in your lifetime. Will you accept it?” Your father sighed as he finished. William looked down at his feet and bit his lip. What kind of Officer would he be if he accepted an award that celebrated his life, his survival when he couldn’t keep his own men alive? 

“I need to think about it,” William responded, suddenly tired and sore, as he remembered the brunt weight of his survivor’s guilt. 

You took your opportunity to climb the stairs and find your bedroom in the dark hallway. Once inside, you stared at yourself in the mirror of your boudoir. Your right hand traced invisible lines around your body as you looked to see if anything had changed. You’d just lost your virginity to a war hero, the thought sounded preposterous, unreal. You looked the same in all ways physically, but you felt like a heavy weight had been taken off your shoulders, as if your own virginity was a chore of its own. What about you had turned him on? Why had he given into your seduction? If one could even call it seduction… You unzipped the romper for a second time that evening and held it between your forefingers and thumbs. 

A part of you never wanted to wash it, just like a part of you never wanted to see the Officer again. How did adults do this? How were you supposed to act like nothing had happened between you? It would be easier if you never had to see him again in your father’s house. His eyes held every memory and image of your body, something no one had ever seen but him. Even you hadn’t seen the entirety of your own naked body, only he had. However, there was an overwhelming part of you that wanted to run to him and feel as close to him as you had minutes before. Not just to be taken once again by him but to be had and held by him. You wanted to be his. 

Don’t be stupid, you scolded yourself. Tearing your eyes from the mirror, you dressed for bed and felt discomforted by the normalcy of the activity. You’d just experienced something incredible, how could you just put on your pajamas and crawl into bed as if nothing had happened. You felt totally different, mature and ready to be a person with confidence and power like any man. Officer Killick had made you feel powerful, he’d shown you that you weren't a child, limited to discussions of table manners and tea sets. You were on your way to university to be your own person, even a sexual person if you so liked. 

Footsteps on the stairs quieted your thoughts. You tried to sit still beneath your obnoxiously large pink comforter but as the minutes dragged on, you found it harder and harder to ignore your proximity to the man you’d just lost your virginity to. Officer Killick climbed the stairs behind the doctor and nodded his head goodnight as he turned into his room down the hallway. The doctor’s door clicked closed and William could hear the lock slip into place before he closed his own door. William leaned his forehead against his bedroom door and sighed hallowly into the grain. The doctor’s news had overshadowed the preceding events of the night, events that had triggered feelings he thought he was no longer capable of. He knew it was wrong of him to have done what he did. He was nearly seven years older than you and he was your first sexual experience. It was only fair that he was met with memories of war, memories of his failure, a failure everyone else refused to acknowledge. He’d led his men into death, he was the reason they were all dead. He was a bad man. He didn’t deserve the award nor that sweet, spoiled brat of a girl who’d come to him in the garden to apologize. He should be apologizing. He should apologize. 

A soft knock on the other side of his bathroom door startled him. William made no rush to open it, already knowing that you would be in the doorway with your bright, beautiful eyes, ready to seduce him for a second time that night. When he opened the door, however, you were on the other side dressed for bed in your red and white striped pajamas. Your hair was brushed and bore no resemblance to the state it had been in before. 

“Y/N,” William whispered your name like an exhale, relieved in some strange way, to see you standing before him. It was an image of normalcy that he craved, a distraction from the memories that clouded his head to the point that he felt he was trapped in a glass prism, seeing everything through a pane of glass. One look at the young Officer was all you needed to know that he was negatively affected by the news your father had told him. What you thought was great news wasn’t so for William. You balanced on the balls of your feet and swung your arms around William’s neck, nestling your face between his neck and collarbone. At first he was stunned. He leaned back in surprise, taking you with him as he did. Your stomach crushed against his as he regained his balance and realized what you were doing. 

You were hugging him. 

Slowly he returned your embrace, running his hands over your back to hug around your waist. His eyes closed as he ducked his head into the shelf of your shoulder and inhaled deeply. William smelled like the backyard and the sultry musk of English cigarettes. 

“What’s this for?” He whispered against your neck, making the hair there prickle as if you had been struck by lightning. 

“Thank you, Killick,” you mumbled without adding any further explanations. William blinked and furrowed his eyebrows, taking a second to understand what you meant. When he did, he pulled away and set you back down gently. You looked up at the Officer, confused and hurt that he’d broken the embrace so soon. William pinched the bridge of his nose and put one hand on his hip, shifting his dinner jacket to the side. 

“Y/N, what we did was a mistake,” he started, his hand still covering his eyes, “that shouldn’t have been how it happened for you.” 

“What do you mean?” You crossed your arms across your chest, hiding the bareness of your breasts beneath the thin cotton shirt. 

William opened his eyes and shook his head. When he finally met your eyes, his voice sounded distracted and unorganized as if we didn’t know what he was saying himself. 

“I’m not a good man, Y/N.” William cut you off as you started to negate his claim. “No, no you need to listen to me. You only know who I am now. You didn’t see who I was in the war. I- I’ve done things, Y/N. Things you should never know about even if you wanted to know. Your first time shouldn’t have been with me because you deserve better. You deserve a good man. A man that, well, a man that killed others with the hands he touches you with now…” William’s blue eyes looked as if they were glowing as a cat’s does in the dark. You shivered despite the heat and bit your lip. When you could tell that he was done, you pressed a hand against his chest. He looked down dumbly at it as you slid it up his lapel to his cheek, no stubble and scars. As you cupped his cheek he closed his eyes and leaned into it, defenseless. 

“I don’t want to say,” you started, “but would it be enough to tell you that I am truly grateful to have met you and done what we did together?” Your voice was soft and childish as you comforted the man who’d grown to mean so much more to you in so little time. William kept his eyes closed, hiding the swell of tears that pooled behind his eyelids. When he didn’t say anything, you continued. 

“A good man cannot be blamed for what he did when the unspeakable was asked and required of him. Would a bad man have taken me so gently and so tenderly as you did? Would a bad man still be recognized for his bravery after losing his entire squadron in a catastrophe?” You asked genuinely and slowly he opened his eyes, and looked deep into your eyes. 

“You don’t know what a bad man can be,” he responded quietly and your heart broke for the man. You two stared at each other in silence for what felt like forever until you wrapped your arms around his neck again and William instinctively picked you up. Still without saying anything, William set you down on his bed, a uniquely shaped bed that was slightly wider than a twin-sized bed. He sat down beside you and you watched calmly as he removed his jacket and folded it over the arm of the chair near the bed. Next he removed his cufflinks and put them inside a small dish on his nightstand. William caught you staring at them and showed one to you. 

“They were from my father. He gave them to me before I shipped out to the continent,” he twirled the small golden knot between his fingers. “There’s a tiny compass in the middle of the knot, do you see?” He gave it to you so you could look closer at the intricate design. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered honestly and he nodded thoughtfully.

“They were my father’s in the Great War. He served in the Royal Air Force. I followed in his footsteps and as far as he was concerned, I lived up to his expectations.” 

“Why didn’t you go back home after the war?” You returned the cufflink and William studied it distractedly. 

“He died,” that was all he offered and you resisted the urge to hold him once again. 

“I’m sorry,” you said instead and looked down at your hands. William reached for one of your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours. He stared out the window, directly opposite of him and breathed deeply. You studied his profile in the light, noticing the freckles that dotted his cheekbones. You fought a primal urge to kiss him again, to devour him completely. Finally, he turned his face to meet your gaze and looked down briefly at your lips. To took that as an invitation and kissed him with a short but slow kiss. When you pulled back, William slid his hand into your hair at the back of your head and curled his fingers towards your scalp. You raised up on your knees and moved him further back against the headboard. Then straddling his stomach as he propped himself up against the headboard, you kissed him again. You took your time and you could feel the Officer relax beneath you as you savored the taste of his mouth, the size and softness of his lips, and the intimacy of his tongue as it slipped into your mouth every once in a while. 

His hands settled on your waist beneath your pajama shirt. Your hands sought out the muscles in his arms beneath his dress shirt, tracing the taught ridges with the pads of your fingers. William leaned you back where you rested on his legs as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the side. His white undershirt further exposed his muscles and you hid a gasp of admiration when you saw them. William saw your reaction and raised a playful eyebrow. 

“My muscles? That’s what you like? Really? Women.” He rolled his eyes in a jovial manner and pulled you back to his chest. Smiling, you stood on his bed, your feet planted on either side of his legs. He looked up at you with a smirk and leaned back against the headboard. Looking down at him, you slowly unbuttoned your top, starting from the bottom. As your shirt opened, William’s pupils grew in size. The soft flesh of your stomach in the light turned him on, the way your hands handled the pearly white buttons…

“What are you doing?” William whispered with a disbelieving smirk. You didn’t answer as you opened the shirt, exposing your breasts to him in the light. The soft pink buds puckered above him and William ran a hand over his mouth, his eyes fixed on your chest. Seeing his reaction, you ran a hand down your chest to the waistband of your bottoms. William gasped softly when your hands disappeared beneath the striped fabric and played with the soft mound of your cunt. 

“Y/N…” William’s voice was harsh and broken as he watched, unable to look away. You slipped a finger into your own cunt, seeing if you could replicate the feeling that he had made you experience before. Adding a second finger, you started to feel it, and moaned softly. Your head fell back and in your moment of weakness, William caught your other wrist and pulled you back down. Removing your fingers quickly, you held him so you wouldn’t fall off the bed as he laid you down beneath him. He’d abandoned any and all reason as he pulled your hands harshly and fumbled with the latch of his trousers. 

You squirmed beneath him as he clamped a hand over your mouth and withdrew his erection with his other hand. Barely spreading your legs for him, he thrusted his cock inside your cunt without any prep. His pants weren’t even off as he started fucking you deeply with the feverish passion of a teenage boy. His face was inches from yours as he panted, glancing down every so often to see how his cock slid inside you. 

“Get a good look, sweetheart. This is what a bad man looks like,” he whispered darkly against your ear and bashed his hips harshly against your pelvis. You moaned behind his large hand. Your own hands gripped the material of his undershirt, your nails penetrating the fabric and pinching his skin. The pain made him fuck you harder and tousling his hair. The hand that wasn’t clamped on your mouth grabbed the top of the headboard. You stared at each other, your eyes connected with some invisible bond, pulling you closer and closer together. 

“Fuck…” William whispered under his unstable breath. When you moaned loudly, he hushed you with a small smirk, “inside voice, sweetheart.” 

You could feel him inside you, hitting the back of something, but you didn’t know what. Each time he did, you wanted to cry out in pleasure. You moaned his name behind his hand but he could still hear you and smiled in response. 

“I’m almost there,” he whispered, holding his mouth open in a silent moan. The bed creaked quietly around you and you wondered if your father would hear it from his room down the hall. You finished twice before he even finished once, your eyes rolling back into your head. You whimpered from the raw and newfound pleasure, more powerful than any sensation you’d ever felt before, even when you finished earlier in the backyard. His ragged breaths grew slightly louder and somehow his cock felt larger as it felt like you were both about to explode. 

“Fuck, I can’t cum inside you,” he realized suddenly and grunted in frustration. Before he could pull out, you wrapped your arms around his back and shifted his hand from your mouth. 

“Do it,’ you pleased as quietly as you could as you panted. William looked into your eyes. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” you nodded what felt like seconds later, he came inside you. It felt warm and sticky inside, satisfying. When he was done, William wiped your hair from your sweaty forehead and kissed you. You had single-handedly saved him, fixed him, recreated him. He felt like a man again. He felt like a human again. 

Keeping himself inside you, William kissed your neck admired your face with visible pleasure etched into the glimmer of his pale blue eyes. 

“Maybe you’re not such a spoiled brat after all,” William smiled down at you. 

“We’ll see about that…” you whispered breathlessly and pulled him in for a kiss.

[the-kr8tor]

for fluffy friday do u think u could write a fic where hobie takes u to an appointment while pregnant with the twins to find out the gender (obvi hobie is rooting hard for a girl) not knowing ur having twins and thennnn surprise!!!

Aahhhh I love this prompt sm 🫶 thank you!!

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, reader is pregnant, Billie and Ramona au, dad! Hobie, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You lay on an elevated cot, back straight as you anxiously wait for the doctor to do the ultrasound. Hobie looks cool as ever, save for him tapping his boot relentlessly on the linoleum floor of the hospital.

You look at Hobie, he gestures for you to exhale deeply. You follow his instructions. He nods, squeezing your hands as they lay on top of your growing stomach. Anxiety bubbles in your gut, you don't know if it's just because you're pregnant or you're worried what the doctor will find on the ultrasound. It's your first time getting it since finding out you're having a baby, add it with the fact that you'll be finding out the sex of the baby, it's safe to say you're properly worried.

"What do you think the baby will be?" Hobie cuts the silence in an attempt to ease your anxiety. He secretly hopes for a girl that's a perfect mix of you both with a carbon copy smile from you.

"Don't know as long as the baby's not a spider hybrid having eight arms, I'm good" you gnaw at your bottom lip.

He rubs your lips to prevent you biting it till you bleed. "The baby won't have eight arms" he reassures, you smile appreciatively at him. "They'll have eight eyes and organic webs"

"Hobie!" You slap his arm weakly.

"I'll love them the same, lovey. I'm sure they'll look cute with eight eyes"

"Not funny" you pout, blaming your pregnancy hormones with how your leg bounces against the bed.

"It'll be fine, yeah?" He places his hip right next to the cot to get closer to you. Hand placed lovingly over your stomach, tracing the circular pattern on your maternity blouse. "Doctor won't find anything wrong with you or the baby" Hobie's last comment was more of a reassurance for him, he keeps telling himself that everytime he goes out on patrol, repeating it like a mantra in his head, keeping him afloat.

The doctor knocks, she peeks inside with a polite smile. "Hi Mum, are you and dad ready?" Hobie has never heard someone else call him that title except for you occasionally, his stomach somersaults.

"Hi, doc. Please start, I'm dying out here" you joke that has Hobie snickering in agreement.

The doctor prepares the device, putting on some kind of jelly on the ultrasound wand. She wheels it closer, prompting Hobie to leave your side for a brief second. You reach out to him instinctively, he circles around the machine to get to you as fast as he can.

Back to your side, Hobie clasps your hand again.

"Excuse me, Mr. Brown" the doctor moves closer to you. Hobie raises a brow, you stop a laugh from escaping with your palm. He sees the smile on your eyes, he makes a face that says: do I look like a Mr. Brown?

You let out a snort, already embarrassed at the sound you made. Hobie smiles widely at your reaction while the doctor lifts up your shirt with your permission.

"Inhale deeply for me momma" she instructs.

You follow, cold jelly hits your skin that makes you shiver. Squeezing Hobie's hand tighter. He blames your unusual pregnancy strength with how his knuckles are aching from your tight hold. He can't imagine how strong your grip will be when you actually give birth.

Faint heartbeat hits your ears, you already know whose heart it is. The doctor swivels the ultrasound closer so you could see the screen. Even though the picture is grainy and grey, your heart soars at the first picture of your baby.

"Look at her" Hobie says in amazement, the low quality picture shows the outline of your baby moving around in your belly.

You look in awe, sparing Hobie a glance, you're glad you did because of the rare expression on his face. It's awe and love mixed together, your eyes are glossy at the sight. You knead his palm with your finger nail affectionately since you probably can't form a coherent sentence right now.

"Dad's right." The doctor looks at you both with a smile, "you've got a little girl. Congratulations"

You chuckle breathlessly while Hobie kisses each of your knuckles. He asks for your sakes, judging by how you look like you're about to burst into tears, he concludes you won't even remember to ask the question.

"Is she okay? Healthy? Only have two eyes and a human nose?"

The doctor laughs at his joke, while tears stop spilling from your eyes for a second.

"Seems everything's fine– wait" the doctor stops in her tracks, squinting at the grainy picture, moving the wand all over your stomach.

"What do you mean wait?" Your heart leaps at your chest, Hobie stops you from sitting up with his hand, massaging the skin right under your collar bone. "Is she okay?" Your face snaps towards Hobie. "Hobie?" He sees desperation on your face, the last he ever wanted to see.

"Oh"

"Oh? Doc don't keep it a secret" Hobie sounds angrier with every word he utters.

"There's two babies" she answers quickly.

"What?!" You and Hobie yell simultaneously. Fear evaporates from your body, replaced with something you can't quite name.

Then he hears it, a second heartbeat.

"Yeah," the doctor nods with a smile. She moves the wand further down to show you. "And she's quite shy"

Your eyes are glued on the screen, sure enough, another figure moves right behind the first outline. You gasp in astonishment. She hides with her miniscule movement behind her sister, but you can clearly see her now with her knuckles closed tightly in a fist.

More tears flow out of your eyes, you're sobbing right in front of your doctor. She holds out a box of tissues, you thank her with a wet smile.

Hobie hasn't moved since he spotted and heard his second daughter. Like a statue, his eyes never left the screen. Flabbergasted, his heart feels like escaping his chest.

"Hobie" you call out to him through tears. "We're having twins" you can't believe it yourself, sliding your hand to his elbow to get his attention.

"Girls," he says in awe, "we're havin' girls" Hobie doesn't spare a second to press a chaste kiss over your forehead. You hum in happiness. His hand drops to the side of your stomach, imagining he's holding his girls' hands.

You can't wait to meet them.

[shegatsby]

Love Thy Enemy

 Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/n; How i missed yu guys! Finally im free from family issues and i can continue this series. I hope you enjoy it. SMUT in the future chapters, i promise, don't forget to share your thoughts with me. xxx

TAG LIST IS OPEN! (let me know if i forgot to tag you)

Warnings; Baron being a weirdo.

Words; 3.584K

Chapter Five ''A Delicious Meal''

Feyd-Rautha Harkonenn didn’t know what to do, she was in his arms.. at least one of his long time wishes came true but he would’ve preferred a better scenario, he carried her to his king sized bed, covered in black silk, as soon as he laid her gently he called for his most trusted doctor. The man was tiny and bald, his eyes were jet black and had no whites, he had been serving Harkonnens for years. Feyd was standing a step away, watching carefully, he watched the doctor examine Y/N, Feyd’s eyes never leaving her body and to see if the doctor ever dared to touch her inappropriately. ‘’Due to change of climate and stress Lady Y/N’s body lost significant amount of vitamins, it is most likely she has been skipping meals. I’m going to give her some pills to boost her energy, she must also finish her meals.’’ He placed a container of pills on the side table and bowed to leave, when the family doctor left Feyd found himself pulling a chair to observe Y/N sleep. Their fight in his twisted mind, the thought he had was he was right till she fainted into his arms. Maybe she was… No.

He dismissed these strange thoughts. She was in his domain an she had to follow his rules and obey. ‘’Little dove..’’ he caressed her long Y/H/C hair, he had  always been enamored by her lush hair, so beautiful and vivid. Whenever he got a chance of seeing her he would observe her hair and how it bounced and rippled like the waves of Caladan, her home.. not anymore. As children, Feyd, Y/N, Irulan and sometimes Paul were left alone when adults were talking business, their nannies would be present of course but they were free to play together. Feyd-Rautha would chase her, pull her hair to annoy her. He loved to get reactions out of her whilst they grew up their interactions got limited. They had to be present at certain meetings such as balls, ceremonies etc.

His mind wandered to a distant memory…

At his 16th birthday it was Feyd’s first time at the arena, it was a Harkonnen tradition, so the important houses were invited. He had been training for years and it was his time to shine, bring fame and glory to his family and also prove a ‘’certain someone’’ that he had become a man, someone she could notice finally. When he entered the arena his animalistic lust for blood made his body electric, the black sun was at the top, making the arena look like a glowing white desert. He had his black uniform and combat boots which made him look much taller, he could hear the crowd’s cheer, they were ordered to cheer for him but still, he bathed in it.

He greeted the houses who were seated at the private chambers, he could see her

Time to impress.

He didn’t forget to activate his shield and the games began, prisoners were released from the doors to the arena, they were injected sedatives to make sure Feyd would be safe. He was there to butcher.

With every kill the white sand got covered in blood and stick to his boots, with every kill he was cheered, celebrated. At the end of the duel he was dipped in his enemies’ blood head to toe. He bowed and let the fame wash him away in ecstasy. He gained the popularity of his people and the houses that came to watch him. He was sure he was going to get marriage deals one after the other. When he lifted his head, he noticed that her seat was empty, she was gone. Why? Before the feast he was determined to find her and confront her.

He bathed very quickly, got dressed and left his chambers. He asked guards of her guest chambers and got no answers, he tried her maids and again, no answer. He was irritated, where could she be?

‘’My Lord, you’re asked by Reverend Mother.’’ A servant came to inform him, he had to put this pursuit aside for a while.

Reverend Mother was in her chambers, she travelled here with Emperor’s politicians. She was standing, her long black dress sweeping the clean floor. Her face was covered in laced veil, she waited for servants to leave them alone. ‘’Activate silence.’’ She ordered and a shield surrounded them, no one could hear them, ‘’You have fought well.’’ She began, ‘’Our order puts faith in you, young Harkonnen.’’ He didn’t interrupt her, unlike Rabban, he had wits about him. ‘’You would be a worthy match for one of our sisters We are watching you and her closely. You may be dismissed.’’ He left.

He had a feeling that sister is someone he had his eyes on her since they were children. With a smirk he roamed the halls of his fortress of black and white. He had an idea, his legs moved towards the chapel, almost no one prayed or believed in something other than violence on this planet.

The room was silent, there she was on her knees praying. Her long violet dress bunched up on her knees, he watched her pray. It made him curios, what was she praying for? He wanted to give her a reason to be on her knees but he kept his eccentric ideas to himself and keep his wide awake manhood in check. Ever since venom of being a teenager entered his body he had fun having these thoughts of her, of course he had his concubines to warm his bed and yet they weren’t enough, he had a thirst only she could quench.

Y/N rose to her feet as she finished praying, he cleared his throat to get her reaction, she turned to face him. He was standing tall, hands clasped behind his back, ‘’I have noticed your absence at my coming of age celebration Lady Y/N.’’ he began, his snake like eyes trapped her in, ‘’Is something to matter?’’ he was genuinely wondering. Her gaze was distant, he could see the work of Bene Gesserit on her, ‘’Maybe I didn’t want to see prisoners getting killed.’’ She replied coldly, ‘’But you promised to-‘’ she cut him short, ‘’I have seen eough. Good day, Na-Baron.’’ And she left the chapel, leaving him in shock… no one dared to stood up to him before and there she was with her lioness fire.

Y/N was gaining consciousness, opening her eyes slowly, the room was too quiet, her eyes travelled in the room to see him sitting on a chair, in reverse position and watching her, his hands resting on the back of the chair loosely, she was in his bed chambers. ‘’What happened?’’ she moved to rest her back on the headboard, pulling her legs towards her, ‘’Change of climate, stress and skipping meals.. you will be under surveillance. I’ve  ordered your maids to bring your belongings here, you’re going to stay with me from now on.” She could feel the heat on her face, ‘’But Harkonnen traditions say that-‘’ Feyd bolted to his feet, ‘’To hell with the traditions, your health comes first,’’ when he noticed the questioning look from her, he added ‘’you are to birth my heirs. End of discussion.’’ With the mention of heirs her blood ran cold in her veins, she had been specifically avoiding the concept ever since her fate was decided for her, it seemed Feyd was the opposite. She wondered if she could leave after birthing his heirs… her heart told her that she was  humane enough to stay and care for her offspring, she couldn’t abandon them, unlike Feyd she wasn’t a monster.

Y/N Atreides watched him take his leave, after the door closed she took advantage of being alone in his chambers, his bedroom consisted of a balcony, metal wardrobe, a skin of a bear on the floor, it made her sick. The fire place was empty since it was a warm day, her maids and servants started o carry her belongings one by one, she didn’t mind them and moved to the living room side, the room was more colorful than the bedroom, by color; black, white, dark blue and grey here and there. A long table which was made of Giedi Prime’s famous tree, Pilingitam, placed close to the large window overlooking the city, the tree’s color was lime-green and it gave a strange pop of color to the room. A basket of fresh fruit just placed by a servant girl, she looked shy, her head bowed, not making eye contact ‘’Our Na-Baron has ordered to keep fresh fruit for everyday my Lady Atreides.’’ Y/N could see the blush on the girls pale cheeks, ‘’I understand.’’ She also noticed how other servants’ behavior changed with this knowledge, Y/N deduced that they weren’t used to see their Na-Baron being ‘’thoughtful’’.

She was suspicious of the fruit basket, she picked a green grape and smelled it, it had no unusual smell, she bit the grape and it’s sweet juice immediately filled her mouth, Y/N was stunned, it was delicious, she assumed the fruit is exported from somewhere else hence Giedi Prime wasn’t known for its luscious fruit trees. She sat on the chair, turned to watch the scenery before her on the large window and ate.

‘’My Na-Baron!’’ Feyd-Rautha’s servant ran, out of breath, he was in the training grounds, sharpening his favorite blade, ‘’Lady Y/N settled perfectly and ate the fruit you sent you had sent.’’ He smiled wickedly, sowing teeth, he saw his reflection on the shiny blade which was about to be dipped in blood, he nodded to the servant and dismissed him. He focused on his training all day until his uncle Baron Vladimir Harkonnen marched in through the heavy doors, the doors smacked against the stone walls and made him turn to his uncle. ‘’What is the meaning of this?!’’ his uncle yelled, floating in the air thanks to his high tech machine, ‘’What do you mean uncle?’’ Feyd pretended like he had no idea, they were under the Giedi Prime’s black sun, the heat didn’t compare to the heat of Arrakis yet it was enough to finish his training and together they moved to a private room. ‘’I’ve heard that Atreides girl will be staying with you. Tell me,’’ he pressed to lean in, Feyd had to look up, he hated looking up at him all his life. ‘’Dear nephew, do you care for this girl?’’ he had to be careful, Feyd bought time by cleaning his sweat covered chest, his muscles attracted the Baron’s attention for a second, he had to be careful, if his uncle suspected anything she would be in danger, he loved to torment her and she was his to torment, not someone else’s. His uncle had no tolerance for ‘’caring’’ his only passion was to keep his house’s powerful stance and leave a might legacy behind.

‘’All my life I’ve fulfilled your orders uncle.’’ Feyd began, he throw the towel away, his blue eyes focused on his uncle with distaste and fire, ‘’You and witches of Bene Gesserit told me to marry the Atreides girl and that’s what I intend to do, you ask for heirs to leave our house one day and that is what I shall do.’’ He explained his voice cold and uninterested. ‘’She is only an object to use and cultivate and I, as her husband-to-be, have to keep her physical health at best, her mental health is not my interest.’’ He didn’t break his composure, looking up at his uncle and he bowed to him, to show loyalty. ‘’That’s my boy. You may rise.’’ Baron left him there, pleased.

Feyd sat on the stone bench, his sweat cooling down, he had to be extra careful when it came to his uncle, Baron Vladimir was known for his cunning mind and sinister plans. Feyd had to be able to protect his wife and children in the future and it seemed near… he thought he could manage his uncle’s plans…

Y/N Atreides didn’t do much that day, she was still tired and in shock. She didn’t want to remember his gruesome ‘’gift’’ or their fight, her main problem at the moment was Feyd’s decision of staying together… in his chambers… she found herself pacing in his bedroom, the sun was setting, leaving the landscape of industry in darkness, she could see the lamps in the city were being lit one by one, at a distance ships were landing or taking off, those were the spice ships, all over the galaxy every living being’s destiny was bound to spice… including her. The door was knocked and opened, she turned to face the servant, she assumed it was a servant because Na-Baron had no manners such as knocking on the door. The servant bowed, ‘’Dinner shall be served soon, our Lord Na-Baron is expecting her ladyship to join him.’’ She had no choice but to obey his request. ‘’Tell my maids to come and dress me.’’ Her plan was to be silent, eat and go to sleep… somewhere except his bed.

Her personal maids dressed her in black, they said she had to represent her husband-to-be’s house, she despised the color and yet when she looked at herself on the tall mirror, she looked powerful. The dress was long with long sleeves, had a nice cut on her chest, her hair was braided Atreides style, loose and fluffy, her maids left and she approached to the door of the living room.

The fire place was lit, he was standing by the window, his back turned to her, his hands clasped at his back, Y/N literally saw his ears prick up like a hellhound. He turned confidently, his posture straight and he is covered in black clothing just like her, ‘’Finally.’’ He greeted her with a victorious smile, eyes roaming over her body, she felt his blue orbits shooting at her, table was set, candles lit. Did he really made the servants light candles instead of glowglobes? She couldn’t ignore how the candles changed the mood in the room, more serene yet with a touch of expectation of something new.

He moved to the other side of the tale to move her chair for her to sit, without a word she walked and sat, as he was pushing the chair back to its place she could feel his breath on her neck, burning her, ‘’I have to admit, you look ravishing in that dress.’’ His breath lingered for few more seconds which felt eternity, she kept her silence, eyes forward, he chuckled to himself and moved to the other side of the table and sat. ‘’How is your health?’’ he casually asked, getting ready to eat the meat before him, her eyes moved to the table, she also had rare cooked meat on her plate, when she moved the meat eith her fork she could see the blood under it, it made her sick so she looked up to him, Feyd was waiting for an answer, he noticed her expression change, ‘’I feel much better.’’ She replied, Feyd began to eat like a man starved, ‘’I had my training all day,’’ she didn’t ask but he was explaining anyways, ‘’fighting makes me starve like wolves.’’ It seemed so, she was in utter shock how he can eat that rare meat… Feyd remembered his conversation earlier with his uncle and went silent.

‘’Start eating,’’ he noticed that she still didn’t touch her food, ‘’or,’’ he continued but Y/N cut him off, ‘’Or you will kill another servant to teach me a lesson?’’ she sarcastically said, still traumatized by that incident. His presence made her feel uneasy, he was the reason why she had to leave everything behind and it made her blood boil in despise. Y/N heard Feyd’s chuckle, ‘’Or I will feed you myself.’’ He finished.

A mental image flashed in her mind’s eye, thanks to Bene Gesserit mind work she could imagine more vividly than normal people, in the image Feyd was sitting next to her, very close, abnormally close and feeding her slowly, wiping her lips with his thumb and sucking it, there was a sexual undertone to this image, she pinched her skin to wake up.

‘’No, thank you.’’ Couldn’t help but wonder his idea, she began eating fruit, totally avoiding the bloody meat, her senses were high so she could smell the blood unfortunately, ‘’Is settling in over?’’ Feyd asked, he was leaning on his chair, holding a goblet of red wine, his eyes shining like diamonds under the candle lights, ‘’We are disobeying the traditions. We should unite when we get married. I do not wish to attract unwanted attention than it is.’’ Y/N was being honest, ‘’Unite,’’ he said with a wicked smile, ‘’We can unite right now on this very tableif you please, little dove.’’ He drank his wine watching her startled expression, her slightly opened pretty mouth but she recovered quickly, ‘’I am settling in just fine.’’ She ignored his comment. ‘’I wish to learn the fortress better, so that I won’t have to rely on my maids to take me to places.’’

‘’I can show you around, I am sure you will get used to your new home.’’ He finished his drink and poured another, ‘’This isn’t home.’’ Y/N said under her breath, a sudden sadness washed her body up and down like the waves of Caladan. ‘’Hm?’’ he pretended like he didn’t hear, he wanted her to say it but she surprised him, ‘’Nothing.’’

‘’You don’t like rare cooked meat I take it?’’ he was taking notes of her likes and dislikes, ‘’I like it well cooked.’’ Feyd pressed a button on the table and in seconds a servant man rushed in immediately, ‘’My wife prefers her meat well cooked. If a mistake like this ever happenes again I shall serve her the kitchen staffs’ heads instead.’’ He wasn’t even looking at the servant, he was focused on the dessert he was eating, Y/N apologized quietly to the servant man who was shaking, carrying her plate back to the kitchens to bring what Na-Baron requested.

‘’I am not your wife.’’ Y/N protested in annoyance,

‘’Not yet.’’ He replied and looked to see her intransigent eyes, so fiery it confused Feyd, did he want her to rebel against him and be dominant or did he just wanted to crush her soul to his feet?

The servant brought back her table, ‘’It looks delicious, thank you.’’ She noticed how the servant’s expression change into confusion, Y/N Atreides was slightly impacting them in a good way. The servant them alone.

‘’Do we have to have dinner together every night?’’

‘’Why?’’ he placed his fork on the metal plate, wiping his mouth with a black piece of cloth, ‘’You don’t find me pleasant to look at?’’ he teased, trying to get a reaction out of her, ‘’The table looks more pleasant.’’ She replied coldly, her hands on her lap, sitting tall and immobile, ‘’I have to make sure you finish your plate.’’ He got up from his seat coming to her, ‘’I want strong sons.’’ He added and pulled the chair next to hers. ‘’You forget, I am a Bene Gesserit witch, I choose the gender of the baby.’’ She was watching his movements, what was he doing? He got the fork and knife and cut her meat into cubes, ‘’What are you doing?’’ she looked puzzled, was her mental image becoming true?

‘’Like I have said, I want strong children and a strong mother to take care of them. Now,’’ he got a cube of meat to the fork, ‘’open wide.’’

Y/N could feel the heat rising to her face, ‘’I can eat-‘’

‘’I don’t trust you.’’ He was so forward it caught her off guard, his face held the truth, her Bene Gesserit training was yelling her in her mind, ‘’He doesn’t trust you that you can take care of yourself on your own here..’’

She was trying to find a correct path to manipulate him,

‘’Give in.’’ a voice in her head said,

And she opened wide. ‘’Little dove, see, some things are so easy when you let your guard down.’’ He was close to her, feeding her, the meat was delicious.

‘’Giedi Prime isn’t welcoming to outsiders. His voice was low and she can see he was telling the truth, he got another cube of meat when she swallowed, ‘’Good?’’ he asked as he fed her again, Y/N nodded, she realized how hungry she was, the juice of the meat running down at the corner of her mouth, Feyd wiped it with his thumb and licked it clean. Their eyes never leaving as if it is a contest, in silence she let him feed her.

‘’Good girl.’’ He praised, and watched the effect it had on her. Their eyes refused to part, she didn’t want him to think that she was afraid of him, she wanted to insert her presence to him but his aura was too strong to bare. ‘’What did you mean by Giedi Prime not being welcoming?’’ she noticed he was trying to say something without being obvious, he placed the fork on the plate, leaned back on the chair. ‘’It is easy to make enemies here, one wrong move and you lose. You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.’’ And he stood up,

‘’Shall we sleep?’’

Tag List; @superchatnoir07 @mamawiggers1980 @landlockedmermaid77 @moonsoulk @crystalskiesandcherrywine @palomavz @beebeechaos @jeong-uwu @tian-monique @avidreader73 @aleemendoza2425-blog @taleah @oneandonlybbygrl @flower-frog @or-was-it-just-a-dream @howibecameabadassbitch @monstresshorn @keanuispunk @lunerose0 @purplepeach333 @torossosebs @austinbutlerslovers @darlingisntit @aoi-targaryen

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Called to Duty 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, abandonment, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Summary: You struggle to move on from the biggest mistake of your life but find it hard to forget among the whispers of a small town.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You’re tired. You’re always tired these days, but you gotta do what you gotta do. That’s going to be your life from now on. Not what you want, but what you need.  

You wait in line at the grocery store. Their in-store sourdough isn’t as good as the bakery but you can’t spare the extra dollars. You have your essentials; chicken, rice, some broth for those days when you can’t quite keep solid food down. Some fruits too for the mornings, and a sneaky pack of cookies. 

The woman behind the counter packs up here bag. She rubs her hip as you swipe your card, as if she can feel your pain. You suppose she has few aches and pains from years of standing behind that till. She hands you your receipt and asks if you need help. It’s two bags, nothing too heavy. You slide them into the rolling bag you dragged down with you and head out. 

You’re almost breathless as you get through the front doors. You get dizzy spells but the doctor says it’s just a dip in your blood pressure. You sit on a bench outside the grocery store and rub your stomach as you wait for it to pass. 

As you close your eyes against the springtime sunlight, a familiar tone nestles behind your ear. The timbre sends a shiver up your spine and your hug your middle out of instinct. You don’t look over as Thor’s rolling baritone wafts through the air. 

You stand and pull your bag in the other direction, as fast as you can. The wheels hit a line in the pavement and twists, the handle falling from your hand. It clatters to the ground and you hurried scramble to pick it back up as an apple rolls close to the top. You squat halfway and lift the handle, glancing over as silence pervades. 

Your eyes meet his and you cringe. You quickly turn away as he pulls the phone away from his ear and tilts his head. You touch your stomach again. Did he notice? Did he care? He hadn’t before. 

“Eh, been a while, kitten,” he purrs after you as his footfalls quickly descend, “where are you off to?” 

You ignore him, turning towards the curb as you look up and down the street. You need to get out of here. He stands beside you and you flinch as he puts his hand on your lower back. 

“Why’re you running away?” He says. 

You scoff, “don’t tell me I’m the one running away.” 

You drop your arm and drag the bag off the curb and across the street, as quickly as you can move yourself. You know he’s following. You know him better than he thinks you do. You turn down towards the pharmacy. 

“You look good. Healthy,” he remarks, “you’ve... filled out.” 

“Get away from me,” you hiss. 

“Don’t be rude. I’m just checking in on you, as any good person should.” 

You stop short and face him defiantly. His cheek dimples and reflects a memory back at you. The day you told him. The day he asked who you thought the father was. The day he shrugged off his responsibility on the back of rumours. 

‘Couldn’t possibly be mine. How could you know for sure? How could anyone?’ 

That grin. That taunting grin. 

“You shouldn’t be worried about being a good person, you should be a good father,” you sneer, a crack in your voice. “And you are neither.” 

He laughs, “you always were dramatic, kitten, but the way you meow for me... I hear the hormones make you wild--” 

He reaches to touch your cheek and you swat him away, “don’t.” 

“One last time, for old time’s sake,” he coaxes. 

“You are so gross,” you snip. 

“You can’t be mad at me because you opened your legs--” 

You push him. Stupidly. You shove him in the stomach with one hand. He barely reacts as you turn and stomp away with your groceries rolling at your heels. 

Your eyes sear hotly as you swallow back the protest. It was only him. There was no other possibility. No one believes. Who knows who she slept with? She was always down at the bar, wasn’t she? 

“I miss those claws, kitten,” he calls after you. 

You grit your teeth and storm towards the brick facade of the pharmacy. You shake as you try to fish out your keys. You let go of the rolling bag in frustrating as you dig down in your purse. The cart falls over again and your keyring jangles out onto the pavement with it. 

You let out a grunt and stand, staring at the catastrophe as the apple rolls out of the bag. You lower your head and steel yourself for the reach. Even at four months, with just a bit of belly, everything is so uncomfortable. 

A thick hand scoops up the keys then the apple. Sy hooks two fingers around the handle of the bag and stands. You look at him, lip quivering, and quickly bat away your tears. You dab your eyes with your knuckles. 

“Here,” he stands the bag up and drop the apple inside, then holds out your keys. 

You sigh, “you.” 

He frowns as you take the keyring, “me? I was only helping--” 

“Yeah, because you feel bad for me. Please,” you shove your keys in the door, “don’t.” 

“Feel bad? No. That’s not why... I... people should help each other. Especially those in need.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I need to close my legs. I need to figure it out,” you huff and pull the bag through the door and shove it through, “thanks. I’m good.” You take a step inside and stop, angling back to him, “you forgot your stuff at the pharmacy. They’re holding it at customer service--” 

“It’s yours--” 

“Stop,” you put a hand up, “okay? Just stop. You can go get your money back then.” 

His thick brows draw together and he grazes his hand over his buzzed hair, “I saw you talking to Thor.” 

You snort, “yeah, I ran into your buddy. So what?” 

He crosses his arms and shifts his stance, his works boots dragging loudly, “you’re mad at him.” 

You close your eyes and suck in a breath, “I don’t want to talk about this, especially with you. Fine, go back to him, tell him how pathetic I am--” 

“Why would I do that?” He sounds genuinely confused. 

“I’m not stupid. You were always down at The Horn together. Whatever this is, I’m not falling for it.” 

He squints then looks past you. Your turn and inch the door towards the frame. He steps forward and slaps a hand against the other side, holding it open. 

“He is not a man or a friend if he’s done this to you,” he says. You arch a brow as his blue eyes meet yours, “you deserve better.” 

He eases the tension in his arm as you lean on the door. He lets it snap shut and you wince at the click. You grasp the latch but don’t turn it as you listen through the wood. The friction of his hand drags down the wood. 

“I will give you better,” you barely make out his mutters as the tread of his boot scrapes on the pavement. You twist the lock and fall back against the wall. What is he doing? It has to be a trick. It has to.