#I FINALLY KNOW WHAT HIS OFFICE LOOKS LIKE

[starmapz]

what you know - ch9: (ex) friends || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. smut. slow burn. anxiety (attacks). tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 12.2k.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter - coming soon

With a soft click, the Career Services Office door shuts behind you. Dropping your bag on the bench just outside the door, you pull Shoko’s attention from her phone.

“So? How did it go?”

Slipping paperwork carefully into your bag, you nod. “Good! I only need to make a couple of changes to my resume and cover letter and they gave me some good suggestions for options,” you explain.

As a part of your final couple of semesters in your final year, your Copy Editing and Proofreading class has an internship requirement. On one hand it’s stressful, especially given that you’ll need to adjust your life to the schedule of having an internship on Tuesdays and Thursdays on top of classes throughout the week, but you’re also excited.

And then there’s the case of Sukuna.

Although you wouldn’t exactly call the last time you saw him a pleasant encounter given Sukuna had broken down, not to mention his abrupt departure, his emails had been a bit more reassuring.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Friday, 6:02 PM home?

englishlitstudies@gmail.com - Friday, 6:24 PM Home! Thanks for checking in, Kuna :)

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Friday, 6:29 PM yeah. thanks for earlier. makes it easier to be around the kids

You had smiled to yourself as it seemed he was finally admitting to the fact that maybe help wasn’t so bad. Maybe he didn’t have to handle everything alone.

More encouraging still, was his follow up email.

sukuna.r@gmail.com - Friday, 6:32 PM can you watch them more? i’ll find a way to pay you back after the trial

You hadn’t exactly considered the repercussions that looking after Sukuna’s little brothers would have on your schedule on top of the fact that you’re required to get an internship to graduate.

But if Sukuna can handle it, then you’re more than willing to bear some of his burden if it means he’ll accept your help. Maybe you can lessen the dark circles that seem burnt into his skin like a brand, even if it means you take on a burden of your own.

It’s worth it. He’s worth it.

Shoko groans, pulling your thoughts back to the present. “God, I hope my resume only needs a couple of tweaks. I don’t think it’s very good,” she mutters, pulling it out of her bag.

Peeking over the top of the paper, you shrug. “If it’s any consolation, it’s pretty.”

“Did you just call my resume dumb but pretty? I feel like you did,” she chides.

You laugh in unison with her, shaking your head. “I haven’t even read it! It’s probably more impressive than mine is.”

As her laughter dies down, Shoko rolls her resume up in her hand, batting your shoulder with the paper. “Nice save,” she snorts. Giggling, you step aside as she stands up to head into the Career Services Office next. “I’ll catch you later,” she waves as she steps inside.

Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you make your way to the car and return home. As if projects and studying weren't enough, to think that you now also need to apply to publishing houses while competing with every other student in your program is… a lot. 

With a sigh, you stretch your arms over your head as you take a seat at your desk and begin the long application process of applying to nearly every publishing house in town.

–

Rocking back and forth on the ball of your heels, adorned in cute knee-high boots that match your beige knit sweater, you await one of the three brothers at the door. Over the past couple of weeks, your tattooed counterpart has slowly allowed you to help him.

And thank god for that.

After the intensely emotional moment you’d shared with him outside his apartment after meeting with Hiromi, Choso and Sukuna’s behaviour had grown increasingly worrying. Yuji’s boisterous personality remained somewhat dulled with an underlying sadness, but every so often he would relax under your care and his giggles would light up the apartment.

Choso was a different story. You wondered often if he had heard the discussions between the four adults chatting about legal papers. His already extremely reserved personality had faded into a monotonous and ghostly presence of what was once a very bright and lively child. If ever someone had seemed to be running on auto-pilot, this was it.

Your concern had only grown when you’d stood beside Sukuna just outside of your Literature History class as he received a phone call from Choso’s teacher, concerned for his mental health and well-being.

How Sukuna is meant to explain his child brother refusing to speak not only to classmates, but even his teacher, neither of you truly knew. The pride Sukuna carries on his back that strains and weighs down his already heavy shoulders prevented him from telling the truth. He’s not the picturesque guardian that the school expects him to be at the end of the day, but to admit that he’s about to fight to keep his brothers in his custody feels like defeat to a man like Sukuna.

The battle hasn’t even begun and he’s already losing.

Sukuna remained nestled carefully within your heart, lighting a fire deep within that urged you to help him fight. Like a firefly, it seemed to buzz within, guiding you towards the man you’d come to know as surprisingly warm and thoughtful, in spite of his rougher edges.

Yet it seemed that man was buried under so many layers of stress that you hadn’t caught wind of that warmth in weeks. Sukuna had become somewhat of a shell of his former self too, more on edge and growing wearier by the day. You may see him every couple of days as you look after his brothers or he manages to make it to class or lunch, but between his quick departure and the bone-tired state he returns in after his shift, you don’t get many opportunities to speak.

The only positive you can find across the whole situation is that he’s accepting your help. He’s trying with what meager energy he can find.

In the midst of your troubles with the three brothers, your schedule had briefly become a scattered mess as well. Between running to interviews, classes in which Sukuna struggled to arrive in a timely manner, and looking after the boys, you had been spread thin as well.

At least your schedule would become more predictable, beginning today.

The door creaks open just far enough for Choso to peek up at you. His eyes are devoid of anything beyond recognition as he steps back to let you in. It tugs at your heartstrings to see him so withdrawn.

“Hey sweetie,” you greet him softly, gently ruffling his dark hair. He blinks as his hair, which has grown quite long now, falls into his face, obscuring his vision, though he doesn’t otherwise react.

With two months until the court date, you pray he comes out of his shell again. Two months of reserved silence doesn’t bode well for his mental health, especially when you’re certain Sukuna will win the case regardless.

Sure, his odds aren’t amazing, but those kids love him and in spite of the fatigue that plagues his mind and body, you catch glimpses of the fire lit within to win the court case.

“Where are your brothers?” You query with a small tilt of your head.

Choso’s gaze drifts to the hall where the bedrooms are. You shoot him a tight-lipped smile, sighing as you reach the hall. The bathroom door is shut, the sounds of running water penetrating the barrier. Brushing past the room, you poke your head into the open door to Yuji’s room. The most lively of the bunch, his feet are kicking as he sits at his desk, crayons scrawling across paper.

Stepping inside, you greet him with a smile.

His response isn’t as enthusiastic as you hoped, but he still calls your name out as his eyes brighten at the sight of you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you ruffle his hair as you step up behind him to peer at his coloring page. To your surprise, it isn’t the Avengers book that he’s been coloring over the course of the past few weeks (Spider-Man is his favorite), but a page with a familiar blue hedgehog on it. You blink once as you recognize the pose, it looks like it’s straight from the cover of the GameCube game you’d left here a while ago. More notably, you notice that the lineart doesn’t gleam in the same way the printed pages usually do under the lamplight.

It’s drawn in marker.

Faint traces of erased lines remain at the edge of Sonic’s eyes (are they eyes? Is it one eye? How does that work?) and now that you’re standing over the desk more, you can see the faint outline of another character at his side. Shadow.

You smile to yourself, somewhat bittersweet, at the sweet sight of Yuji leaving the sketch blank and staying in the lines to the best of his ability. He likely hopes that at some point he’ll be able to complete his joint artistic effort with his brother.

The sound of a door opening grabs your attention and you excitedly make your way over to Sukuna, who’s clad in a blue polo and khakis. Clearly he’d be stocking shelves for the evening. Running a hand through long salmon locks, his eyes slide over to you as you appear from the doorway of his brothers’ room.

The dark circles under his eyes don’t look so bad today, though his expression remains stoic. There’s no cracks to his practiced facade of control, his crimson eyes set on your face as he examines the way you actually bound towards him, clearly excited. He raises an eyebrow as he casts his gaze down to your hands, fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Something happen?” He brings a hand up to casually scratch beneath the collar of his shirt, the polo material irritating against his skin.

“You remember how I needed to get an internship this semester?”

“Mhm.”

“Aaaaand you remember how I was really hoping to get a position in that printing house on the main bus route to save some money on gas?”

His lip quirks upwards at the corner as he takes a step towards you. One strong arm wraps around you in something between a headlock and a hug, causing you to giggle. “‘Course you got it. Atta girl,” though his tone lacks the usual timbre he reserves for you and his brothers, you can see the way something within him shifts, something akin to pride resonating through him.

With your face practically shoved into Sukuna’s way too bulky chest, your cheeks quickly warm. You’re more than positive that he can feel it when you stumble back as he releases you after a moment, a glimmer of mischief buried deep beneath the haze of exhaustion.

“Thanks Kuna,” you can’t help the way your eyes crinkle at the corners as your heart pounds in your chest.

Loving him from afar isn’t easy, but it’s better than not loving him at all.

Sukuna makes a motion that he’s headed for the kitchen. You trail after him, watching as he reaches into the fridge for leftovers and a water bottle. 

Choso sits silently at the table towards the back of the apartment, leaning on his palm as he stares outside. With tupperware in one hand and a large metal bottle in the other, Sukuna pauses to stare at him. Something akin to guilt flashes through his eyes, but he quickly steels himself.

You briefly wonder if he believes he can win, something you’ve been doing your best to reassure all three brothers of. Something you genuinely believe.

“When do you start?” Sukuna gruffs, turning his attention back to you.

“Tuesday next week.”

“Excited?”

“I’m a bit nervous, but… yeah,” you smile, grateful he’s entertaining the conversation given how clipped chats with him have been over the last couple of weeks. During lunch or classes on campus, you can usually goad him into a conversation about your professor’s strange obsession with conspiracies (which turned out to be true, much to your dismay), but that’s the extent of his chatty mood usually. You don’t blame him, though. You know he’s worn thin.

The only sign that the Sukuna you know is still there are the minute breaks, the moments where he silently seeks your company, falling into step with you and letting his arm brush against yours. The days when he spreads his legs while he sits at the lunch table and you would give him a hard time for manspreading when his thigh leans against yours, but he only does it to you, so you second-guess teasing him.

“You’ll be fine,” he assures, taking a seat on the couch as he stuffs his dinner into his backpack. “You’re a hard worker.” He smirks, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. 

“Compared to you, I seem like I sleep on the job.”

Your smile falters as Sukuna forces a laugh. “Hmph. Maybe.”

Sukuna’s capacity for conversation has grown infinitely thinner as the days pass and his sleep lessens. Where that leaves his anger and frustration simmering beneath the surface, he does what he can to keep it at bay, especially when it comes to you and his brothers. Unfortunately, it comes at the cost of his conversational skills.

The air grows quiet, interrupted only by the gentle creak of the chair that Choso shuffles quietly on and distant cars in the January cold.

“I can’t believe this is our last year,” you comment mostly for the sake of creating conversation. You know Sukuna doesn’t have much gas in the tank for it, but you find yourself wondering if talking at him helps ease his worries and distract him from the thoughts that plague his restless mind.

“Mm. You lookin’ forward to working?”

“I think so! What about you?

His gaze flashes towards you, narrowing slightly as he straightens, pulling a pair of keys from the bottom of his bag. “No.”

Heat creeps up the back of your neck. “You have time! Especially if you decide to change your major-”

“Why would I do that?” He snaps, lip curling into a snarl. Crimson irises flit between your wide eyes, your brow knit together by a crease.

Shit.

That carefully composed facade Sukuna’s been sporting the last week cracks, his simmering frustration crashing through the walls he’s erected to protect those around him from his own gripes.

Biting your lip in uncertainty, you stammer as you attempt to backtrack under his harsh stare. “I- I just thought-”

“Thought what? Thought I’d be better off doing something more useful? Something that makes more money?”

“What?” You blink as you process his cold tone. “No, I-” your words die in your throat as you examine his set jaw and the way he’s gripping his backpack with white knuckles. What really strikes you is the way something akin to offense gleams in his eyes. You’re accustomed to accidentally prodding where he doesn’t want you, but his edge isn’t usually so cold when you dig a little too deep into his psyche. “It just seemed like you were considering something else.” You want to tack on a mention of an art degree, but Sukuna scoffs before you can continue.

“Is history not good enough now, princess?”

You visibly recoil at the cold way his nickname for you slips off his tongue like venom. What nerve had you struck? “No, what-? No. I’m sorry, Sukuna. I just got the wrong idea, I guess.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have prodded into something that can be a touchy subject for him, but you thought you’d moved past this, and he asked first. Then again, this isn’t the Sukuna you’ve come to know after all these months. The man staring back at you is a product of a world that’s tearing him apart, his emotions awry.

But it still hurts when he takes it out on you.

With a sigh, he checks his watch. “I gotta fucking go,” he mutters, zipping up his bag and grabbing his coat from the rack near the door. Tossing them both on, he slips his hand into his pocket, surely shuffling through it in search of a cigarette, before the door shuts behind him with a slam.

You can only watch in confusion and dispiritedness as the lock flicks shut and the sounds of his footsteps fade outside.

One step forward… two steps back.

You sigh, shutting your eyes for a moment as you stare where he last was. Dragging your hands over your face, you push to your feet, deciding for once to forgo studying in favor of finding something to do with the kids. Maybe it’s time you litter the apartment in bead frogs to go with all the lizards that are still haphazardly strewn everywhere.

To your dismay as you turn towards the hall, you find Choso staring at you from the table. Fuck. You’d forgotten he was there. His expression is unreadable and your chest tightens.

With the most convincing smile you can muster, you usher him from his chair and lead him towards Yuji. “Did you two ever figure out how to make bead frogs?”

Choso’s deep brown eyes examine you as he stares straight up at you. “Are you okay?”

It chokes you up to hear the little boy worry about you. You don’t dare look at him, lest he see the way your eyes burn with salty warmth. So you just smile, nodding. “Of course! Let’s go find your brother.”

Hopefully your tone was more convincing than your expression.

–

The door opens thirty minutes later than usual. Both boys are already asleep (you hope), and have been for a while now, which is unusual for Sukuna’s evening shifts.

He pauses at the door with his keys, a habit you’ve noticed he picked up since the day he found Choso asleep on your lap and had nearly awoken him with the clattering of his keys on the table. When his eyes meet yours, he drops the keys onto the table and locks the door behind him without a word.

His backpack slides from his shoulder with a thud and a muffled clattering of utensils. “You can go.”

You purse your lips at his blatant dismissal of whatever the hell happened earlier. Had you really upset him that much?

“Sukuna, can’t we talk about-?”

He firmly says your name, his eyes steely as you stand and take a step towards him in an effort to reach out. “Not right now.”

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It’s almost embarrassing; to stand there and so blatantly have him deny your request to talk things through after you’ve looked after his brothers for over nine hours. After he’s finally accepting your help and allowing himself to be vulnerable in your presence. “Please, Sukuna-”

Your name rolls off his tongue again, unyielding. “Go home.”

It’s always like this with him. Where that hole in your heart that Sukuna’s nestled so comfortably within eats away at its own chasm. It punctures you, twisting along with the way you still feel for him, knowing that his cold demeanor is the product of a world that threatens to crush him.

But the rational part of you is reminded of Kento and Shoko pulling you aside to warn you not to let him step on you.

Picking up your jacket and bag, you pull your boots on without shooting him another glance. “Asshole.” It slips past your lips before you can really think twice about it, but you’re too caught up in your emotions to care.

You’re gone before Sukuna’s frustration can flare and he’s standing alone in his apartment. The air is still, sound for the heavy air that suffocates him. The TV is still on, you were quietly watching Holes. He supposes there aren’t many non-horror options that you likely haven’t seen with the kids at this point given that he doesn’t have cable or any subscriptions of any kind.

His hair is sticking to his forehead, his skin sweat-slicked between his shoulder blades as he sits down on the couch, dragging his hands roughly over his face. The kids don’t usually pick this movie. He doesn’t remember it.

“You’re mean.”

Carefully guarded, Sukuna raises a brow. “Why’re you awake, brat? You got school tomorrow.” Choso doesn’t reply. With a sigh, the oldest brother scratches the back of his head. “She’ll come around, Choso. Go to bed.”

Choso stands his ground, not moving.

God, the first words he hears from his brother in days and it’s that he’s mean?

Is he really?

He examines Choso’s face, his eyes trailing up to the two bundles of his long hair gathered at the back of his head. Had you put his hair up? Surely the kid hadn’t done it himself. It suits him, and frankly Sukuna’s just glad his hair is out of his face.

He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he has a stare-off with his little brother.

This isn’t that big of a deal. He just didn’t want to hear you point out his inadequacies. He knows his major is useless. He knows he shouldn’t smoke. He doesn’t want to hear it. Surely he hadn’t been enough of a dick that he was wasting what had been laid out clearly as his last chance with you. Right?

You don’t curse often, but even you had called him an asshole.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, pushing up from the couch and pulling on his shoes without a second thought. He’s down in the parking lot as fast as his legs can carry him, searching for your car. To his relief, you’re waiting for the engine to warm up in a guest parking spot.

He jogs over, knocking on the window. You bristle, practically jumping out of your skin at the sight of the burly man at your side.

“Sukuna, you scared me,” you gasp.

“Sorry.”

You frown, avoiding his gaze as you set your phone down. “It’s fine,” you mumble quietly. “What do you want?”

“To talk. About how I was an asshole.”

You stare blankly at him, quietly examining his face. “I told you that you had one chance-”

“Then don’t let it get that far. I’m not wastin’ my chance, I’m fixing things before it gets to that point.”

“It’s not fair that you get to decide when we do or don’t talk about things.”

Sukuna leans his forearms in your car, sighing as he hangs his head within the heat. Your car dips somewhat under his weight. “I know, princess.” He lifts his head, his crimson eyes gleaming in the glow of your dash lights.

You figured he would keep talking but when he just stares blankly at you, you find yourself sighing. “I thought you were letting me in. Letting me help.”

“You are helping me,” he points out.

“I’m helping the kids.”

“That helps me.”

Groaning, you frustratedly run a hand through your hair. “That’s not what I mean,” you grumble, shooting him a glare. “You keep pushing me away.” His fingers flex into fists as he leans into the warmth of your car further.

“It’s better this way.”

“You’re so frustrating,” you groan, slumping back into your seat. “It’s not better! I’m trying to be your friend, I’m trying to be here for you, but I can’t if you won’t let me in.”

Sukuna’s jaw clenches as he merely listens.

“Honestly, tell me what you would have done if I’d left like you asked me to when you had a panic attack.” You look at him expectantly, watching the way that the lights on your dash suddenly seem very interesting to him. He swallows hard, crossing his arms as he continues to lean into the car, perched on his elbows.

Your heat is working overtime to keep you warm as the air that slips past Sukuna clings to your skin, raising it in its wake. Sukuna seems unaffected by the cold, focused anywhere but you. His mind is racing, searching for an answer in the white noise of the car, as though the check engine light will provide the answers he’s searching for.

“You should check your engine.”

You want to groan, roll your eyes, and scream in frustration all at once, yet all you can manage is to stare, stunned to your core that those are the words he chose. Your hand finds the gear shift to put the car in reverse and finally he gives in.

“Fuck, wait.” He huffs, reaching way too close across your body with his long arm to stop your hand from moving the gear shift. His fingers are chilly as he pulls your hand back, proceeding with the familiar act of fiddling with your fingers.

Sensing that this won’t be a short conversation, you flick the key in the ignition once, shutting off the engine, but keeping the heat on. As the engine rumbles to a halt, the distant sounds of cars down the road and faint chatter fill the air. The bulb that illuminates the entry of Sukuna’s apartment continues to flicker, the occasional darkness casting a serious air over his sharp features.

“The first time I ever had one was the day after my dad died,” Sukuna admits with a strained voice. His thumb slides along your knuckles. “It didn’t matter how sick he was. He never wanted me to have to take care of my brothers more than for a few hours.” His face contorts into something between sadness and anger. “I didn’t know how to change a diaper. Didn’t know what Yuji liked eatin’ ‘sides chicken fingers and shit. I think he really believed she’d come back n’ take care of us, or at least them.”

Your lips part as you sympathetically squeeze his fingers, but you don’t dare interrupt.

“Had to look it up on YouTube. How to change a diaper, I mean.” He scoffs, bitter resentment painted across sunken eyes. “Yuji wouldn’t stop cryin’. It was all fuckin’ day, all the time. Must’ve been five in the morning when I finally got both kids asleep at the same time.” His tongue runs along the seam of his lips. “Dunno if you’ve had one before,” he casts a glance at you as he references a panic attack, as though he’s unwilling to admit what it is. You nod. “But I just remember layin’ on the floor of the washroom, staring at the ceiling. Couldn’t tell ya how long I laid there.”

It never seems to matter how upset you are with Sukuna, his situation always manages to twist your heartstrings. He can play you like a violin and he doesn’t even seem to have any clue of the kind of influence he has over you.

“So, if you wanna know what I woulda done,” he shrugs half-heartedly. “That, probably.”

Undoubtedly, this is his best effort of letting you in. Showing you he’s listening. Fixing things before they’re blown out of proportion because he got short with you.

You offer him a sad smile. “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Me too.”

“Next time, can we just talk before things get this far, Kuna?”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding as the familiar nickname slips so easily off your tongue. “There won’t be a next time.”

Your lips quirk upwards, brow raising as you challenge his statement. “With you? There will be. Next time though, just start by telling me you aren’t in the mood to talk about something, okay?”

His lips press into a thin line at your lack of faith in him. He knows it’s founded, but it hurts regardless. Still, you somehow seem to find the space in your heart to be patient with him when he needs it most and for that he’s grateful.

“You got it, princess.” He pauses, tapping the side of the car as he drops your fingers into your lap. “Listen, I think I gotta start taking more shifts.”

“More?”

The concern etched into your brow is cute. “Yeah. I need to almost double how much I usually make. So, double the shifts.”

“You already missed class yesterday,” you point out.

He shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time. I get by.”

“You’re lucky you’re the type of guy who barely needs to study to pass,” you grumble with narrowed eyes.

He snorts, amused. “Yeah, maybe.” He sighs. “I know you got your internship startin’ up next week, but…” he trails off, as if he’s debating whether he should even ask you.

“You need help?”

He sighs. “I gotta take some night shifts.”

Dread churns in your stomach. “You’re never gonna get any sleep.”

“I’ll find time.”

“Where? Your schedule is full.”

“What other option do I have?” He grunts, exasperated. “An extra months’ rent ain’t gonna appear outta thin air.”

“You could always ask Toj-”

“No.”

You should have expected that. Red irises stare you down firmly, pupils mere pinpricks.

“You can take my bed if you stay,” he doubles down, scratching his chin.

Heat travels up your neck, finding a place on your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Something about staying in his room, in his bed, makes your heart take off. Yet he can mention it so casually, like it’s not a big deal.

“Um- right. Sure,” your words come out more mousey than intended, and you can only pray that the dim light that barely illuminates you is hiding the nerves that would otherwise show in the way you avert your gaze and chew on your lip.

To your dismay, that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Sukuna blows air out through his nose in a faint laugh as he slides a bit closer to you. The heat of his breath is warm, hotter than anything the car can manage as it tickles your neck. “Cat got your tongue?”

The battle between warm and cold air suddenly seems suffocating. The distant chatter seems to scream, and the motors of passing cars feel as though they could shake the ground you walk on.

“No!” You exclaim, a little bit too quickly as you find yourself wincing. “I’m fine. Just cold,” you lie, shrinking as you hug yourself.

His chest rumbles in laughter as he stands, slapping a hand down on the roof of your car. “I’ll email you my shifts. Go home.” This time when he says it, his tone is mild. “Didn’t waste my last chance?” He asks, turning his attention back to you with a conviction in his eyes that has you smiling sympathetically.

“Not yet.”

“Good. Let me know when you’re home.” With that, he turns on his heel and heads back into the warmth of his apartment building.

Your eyes trail after him as he pushes through both sets of doors, leaving you alone in the quiet of the night. Shutting the window, heat wraps around you, enveloping you once again within its embrace. Yet for some reason as you stare at the spot where you last saw the tattooed man, a shiver wracks your body.

–

Smoothing your pencil skirt, you push through the doors of a warmly-lit restaurant. The little local spot has an air of familiarity to it, decorated mostly with photos of dishes served nightly and the occasional photo of the owner’s family. Tucked away in the corner is a table with a spare seat reserved for you.

With a sigh of relief, you take a seat beside Suguru, your eyes trailing the length of the table to see who was able to make it. You notice two things at a glance. One, you’re severely overdressed, though you knew that would be the case after coming from your internship. Two… Why is Toji sitting across from you? No, the real question is how are Toji and Satoru sitting beside one another?

The question must be written across your face in bold lettering, because Toji nudges Satoru with a chuckle as everyone greets you happily. Satoru’s mischievous grin matches Toji’s smirk as he spots your confusion.

“They have more in common than I think anyone expected,” Suguru comments with an amused smile.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” you grin, taking a moment to attempt to rub the tiredness from your sunken eyes without smudging your makeup. “I’m glad everyone’s getting along.”

Suguru leans forward to get a better look at you, eyes narrowed as he examines your expression. “Can you look at me for a moment?”

Confused, you tilt your head as you turn to face the raven-haired man. Leaning back in his chair, you watch his expression subtly downturn.

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Of course!” You jump to your own defense quickly, straightening in your seat as you brush imaginary crumbs from your lap. “I’m fine, Suguru. I just had early class today, then my internship, and now dinner.”

“I see,” he hums, moving on. “How’s the internship?”

“Ooh, I wanna know too!” Shoko leans forward over the table to better see you. You can practically envision her kicking her feet under the table in search of details (and gossip).

At this point, even Kento’s attention is now drawn to you from the end of the table and you feel yourself shrink as the table begins to turn their collective attention to you. Everyone here may be your friends, but it’s still a lot of pairs of eyes.

“Um-” You chuckle, running a hand through your hair. “It’s going well! Everyone’s been really nice. Well, mostly everyone- but they have me doing coffee runs and shadowing the other editors right now,” you explain.

“Sounds like you’re well on your way to your career,” Suguru smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Suguru, you gotta ask the hard-hitting questions,” Shoko scolds playfully with a light smack to his bicep. His brow raises as she practically tries to lean over him to get to you. “What do you mean ‘almost everyone’?” She asks, her interest piqued.

Chuckling, you shake your head. “It’s really not that exciting,” you insist. “There’s this one Literary Agent, I think he’s the boss’ nephew or something, that’s just a bit much. I can’t really tell if he’s hitting on me or insulting me half of the time.”

Shoko’s nose wrinkles in disgust as Nanami recoils with a roll of his shoulders.

“And our graphic designer is just weird. She cooks bacon in the breakroom on one of those plug-in hot plates.”

“That is odd,” Suguru agrees.

“I think I get six coffees per day for her alone. Oh- and the other day I spent my whole break listening to her talk about this book she read over the weekend. I swear I could tell you the whole plot.”

“Sounds riveting,” Suguru chuckles, a glimmer of light passing through his gaze. “I’m sure the rest of your colleagues are fans as well.”

“Our publicist was telling me they have a drinking game during Christmas parties where they send the graphic designer to talk to the boss and every time he yawns or checks his watch, they drink.”

“Sounds like my kinda people,” Shoko snorts, grinning at you as the table returns to individual conversations.

Throughout the dinner, you’re quick to notice the way Toji seems to meld to the group seamlessly, offering snide remarks that have you wondering at times if you have a second, more gruff Satoru. It’s almost like he’s a strange blend between Satoru and Sukuna in a sense, and you can definitely see how Toji and Sukuna would be friends.

It’s heartwarming to see him blend in so seamlessly, because if Satoru can get along with Toji, he can get along with Sukuna as well, if they can both quit being haters for ten seconds.

Despite how worn out you are from the long day, the dinner with friends was much needed (even at the cost of two drinks for Satoru and one for Suguru), given that you’ve had to skip out on lunches with them every Tuesday and Thursday and even the occasional other weekdays as well in favor of your harsh schedule. Once you’ve paid, you get to your feet and pull your coat over your shoulders, brushing yourself off and grabbing your keys when you’re tugged aside harshly.

Yelping, you blink as you’re standing in front of Kento and Shoko.

“C’mon, we’re going for dessert,” Shoko insisted, tugging you along.

“What? I’m not hungry.”

“Doesn’t matter, dessert goes in your second stomach,” Shoko dismisses you.

“My second what?”

Before you know it, you’re whisked away to a small bakery down the street that you’re beyond certain is Kento’s choice. As much as he gives Satoru a hard time for sweets, the man has a fairly big sweet tooth himself- as long as the sweets include pastries. A good strawberry mille-feuille would have the man starry-eyed with his wallet on the counter.

Shoko, on the other hand, opts for a single macaron, which you second. Who can say no to a macaron shaped as a little kitty after all?

Holding the treat delicately in your hands as you smile at the sweet orange decorated kitty, you cross your legs and take a look around the bakery. Loaves of bread likely line the walls during the day, the displays usually vibrant with the reds and blues of fresh fruit pies. It’s fairly barren now, but the smell of bread and warmth of the oven still carries with it a sense of peace that puts you at ease.

“This is nice,” you comment, taking a bite of the macaron.

Kento nods. “It’s been a while since it’s been just the three of us.”

With a scoff, Shoko points her brown macaron straight at you, a bite taken out of it. “Yeah and whose fault would that be?”

Pouting, you nibble at the shell of your dessert. “There’s just been a lot going on,” you insist, leaning back in your chair. “Sukuna’s been-” you pause, lifting your head at the realization that Shoko doesn’t know about the lawsuit. Your eyes trail to Kento, whose gaze flashes with understanding.

“Sukuna’s been what?” Shoko pushes. “I swear I’ll shove his balls so far up his-”

“WOAH, woah! Okay Shoko,” your eyes widen and you find yourself nearly dropping your treat at the mere mention of whatever the hell she was gonna say. “As i was saying,” you flash her a glance, willing away the heat creeping up the back of your neck. “He’s been taking more shifts than usual, so I’ve just been balancing that with the internship and classes.”

“And sleep, and studying, and projects,” Kento points out, crossing his arms as he finishes his blueberry mochi cake. “When was the last time you read a book, or watched a movie?”

Hesitating, you find your gaze drifting to the wall. “... I watched Ice Age.”

“No, you watched Yuji watch Ice Age,” Shoko accuses, a brow raised. Finishing her macaron, she dusts her hands off on her pants and sighs. “Listen, we know you like him a lot and it’s great that you’re helping him- and thank god Kento knows so I can talk to him-”

“You’re such a gossip,” you mutter under your breath.

She just shoots you a sweet smile, continuing. “But seriously, you need to put yourself first. I’m glad he’s treating you better-” she pauses, staring expectantly at you.

Your gaze flickers between your two friends. “He’s treating me fine, stop worrying.”

“Great. The point is, he needs to go easy on you. I know he’s got a lot of shit going on, but so do you.” Shoko taps her fingers on the table, leaving the ball in your court.

“Sho, I swear I can handle it,” you roll your eyes, “but if it’s too much, I’ll talk to him. Promise.”

“Pinky swear, girl. You’re way too sweet to that man and I know you’d put him before yourself.”

Wrapping your pinky around hers, you roll your eyes, though you’re unable to help your smile.

“You owe me a girls’ night for bailing the other day by the way.”

“I’m sorry, Sho,” you pout.

“I’ll get over it. Ken here got to be my girls’ night buddy. I couldn’t convince him to get a color but he did get his nails done.” Shoko pulls his hand out from where it was crossed over his chest. You can faintly make out the gleam of clear polish on his nicely manicured nails.

“I have no need for colored nails,” he neutrally declares, shooting Shoko a mildly distasteful look as she holds his hand out to you.

Leaning back, you squint at him. “I think blue’s your color.”

Kento frowns. “Did you mishear me or are you choosing to ignore me?”

Shoko hums. “No, I see it. Like a darker blue.”

“Girls. Please,” he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose at your antics.

“Don’t act like you’re above this, Kento. I bet you still have a bottle of black nail polish back home somewhere,” you tease.

“That was a long time ago-”

Shoko leans in, resting her cheek against her fist. “Oh yeah, you had an emo phase, didn’t you?”

Laughing as Kento blushes profusely, rose dusting his cheeks, you lean back in your seat, relaxing in the warmth of your friends’ care. Your bed may be calling you, but Kento had a point when he asked when the last time you’d read a book or watched a movie was. But it wasn’t a book or movie that you were really missing, it was a girls’ night (featuring Kento).

You stay at the cafe much longer than intended, finding yourself curled up in thick blankets well into the night, but with a content smile on your face.

–

After the fourth day that you don’t see Sukuna at lunch, Uraume had approached you to bring him some worksheets, not to mention he has a paper due literally tomorrow that he doesn’t know about and you won’t see him until the weekend.

His schedule had been rough on you, but it had been downright cruel to him.

When he did manage to make it to a lunch or class, he would pass out within seconds, softly snoring on whatever surface he found himself on. It seemed he had to be physically moving in order to stay awake, otherwise he was dragged into the clutches of the sandman with no fight left to give.

The worst sign of his fading will was when you had gotten a call from Choso and Yuji’s school that Sukuna hadn’t arrived to pick them up. There was a surprising amount to unpack with that call between the fact that Sukuna had missed their pickup time and the fact that you had now been marked down as their emergency contact.

The latter… That was something you would unpack later.

As for the former, when you arrived at his apartment with both boys and rang the buzzer not once, not twice, but thrice, he was little more than a zombie, barely managing to stay on his feet. You swear you saw his drowsiness pop like a bubble over his head at the sight of you with his brothers, downright shocked.

Swears had poured from his mouth like floodgates had opened and all you could do was watch as he dragged his hands over his face in frustration, thanking you before shutting the door, claiming he would be getting some real sleep, lest this happen again.

Making your way up to his door now, you hope the man who greets you has a little more life in him than that day, but it’s not usually a good sign when you haven’t seen him for a bit.

Squinting as you approach the buzzer, you raise your brow at none other than Toji Zenin, sliding his finger along the metal box hanging on the wall in search of the number to dial for Sukuna. Stopping beside him, you stick your finger out to point at the number, which happens to be unmarked.

Toji flips to face you, face relaxing from his squint.

“Fancy findin’ you here,” he grins, the scar at the corner of his lips stretching.

“Hey, Toji!” You greet, returning his smile. The sight of another of Sukuna’s friends at his door is relieving given just how drawn thin he’s been lately. “Visiting Sukuna?” 

“Mhm. Got somethin’ for him.” He wiggles a small box in his hand as he dials up to Sukuna’s apartment. “Fuckin’ asshole didn’t even tell me he moved, had to steal his address from Uraume,” he grumbles, more to himself than you.

You blink at him. Huh. Well that’s… Considerably less reassuring than Sukuna reaching out to Toji. Especially if Toji isn’t aware that Sukuna’s dad passed away, he’d have no clue about-

There’s a small click and the sounds of shuffling, before Choso answers with a disheartened “hello?”

“Choso?” Toji’s brow furrows in confusion. “That you, kid?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Toji?”

Your brow raises as Choso recognizes Toji’s voice. You’re aware Toji’s known Sukuna for a while, but you honestly weren’t expecting him to know Choso if he didn’t know about Jin’s passing.

“You visitin’ your big bro?” Toji queries.

“... I live here.”

Toji scowls deeply, casting you a confused glance. When you don’t mirror his confusion, he clicks his tongue.

“Hey, Cho! Can you let us in?” You call out, attempting to warm your fingers in your pockets as Toji doesn’t budge.

Shuffling resumes on the other line, followed shortly by the telltale buzz that the door’s unlocked.

“I’m missin’ somethin’ here, ain’t I?” The raven-haired man asks, a gruffness to his tone that’s familiar in the way Sukuna also speaks. They’re so similar in some ways, though Toji is far more outgoing than Sukuna. You suppose it’s probably the fact that he’s the Football team’s resident kicker. Still, they share a resemblance in their attitudes.

With a tight-lipped smile, all you can do is nod in reply.

“Shit,” he mutters, following you into the building as you lead the way up to Sukuna’s apartment.

You knock politely, clutching the folder of papers you have for Sukuna to your chest.

“- and add the potatoes when the water starts boiling. Use your fork to test- what are you doing here?” Sukuna turns his attention to his friends at the door mid-sentence, slipping outside and shutting the door behind him abruptly. You step aside, casting a glance between the two ridiculously tall and muscular men as Sukuna glares at Toji.

Sukuna looks… well, better than you were honestly expecting. He doesn’t look like he’s on the verge of passing out or being sick, a The Misfits black hoodie hanging loosely over his shoulders while a pair of dark gray joggers cling to his hips. His hair isn’t styled, stray strands of pale pink sticking out in different directions while some hang over his forehead.

“Got somethin’ for ya. And since your stubborn ass never shows up to lunch and you won’t answer my damn emails, I know ya need it.” Toji holds a visibly calloused hand out, the unmarked box you’d previously noticed now held expectantly for Sukuna to take.

Sukuna’s sharp glare flickers between Toji and the box. With a huff, he lifts the box from Toji’s hands, opening the tabs and peering inside. An old Samsung with a crack through the side of the screen sits at the bottom of the box. Sukuna’s head whips up to face Toji, his eyes blazing. “I don’t fucking need this.”

“My ass. Your phone’s been broken for months,” Toji scoffs, completely unphased by Sukuna’s irritation. “It’s just my old one anyway, but it’s better than nothin’.

Sukuna straightens and you spot a familiar flicker in those crimson eyes. Offense. “If I needed a fuckin’ phone, I woulda bought one,” he grits, shoving the box against Toji’s chest.

As he straightens, it strikes you just how tall and imposing Sukuna is. You can’t imagine it’s easy to make Toji look small when he’s nothing to scoff at either, but Sukuna manages it without fail.

“Don’t gimme that bullshit. I’m not fuckin’ stupid, Ryo. I know somethin’s up and you need a hand.” Toji rolls his eyes, shockingly relaxed for someone under Sukuna’s fire. You know they’ve been friends for a while, but you can’t say for sure how much time they ever spent together. Yet, Toji stands up to him like he knows nothing will come of his anger, as though it’s a facade.

“I’m managing just fine,” Sukuna hisses.

“Are you?” Toji quips, a brow rising behind the black strands of his bangs. “‘Cause I know Jin wouldn’t dump Choso on your ass outta nowhere, so what the fuck is goin’ on?”

Sukuna’s seething at this point, taking a step towards the football player. That may work on others, but Toji isn’t so easily intimidated.

“That’s none of your fuckin’ business,” Sukuna grits.

“Stop bein’ such a fuckin’ prick!” Toji finally snaps, his free hand flying through the air in exasperation. “You used to be my best friend, asshole! You were my fuckin’ family and you fucked off like it was nothin’!”

Sukuna doesn’t respond, brow furrowed and jaw set. His teeth grind from the pressure of his clenched jaw, sending the tension straight to his head as a headache begins to set in.

Left in silence, Toji continues. “Don’t look at me like that. I tried to get you out to the basketball courts with me, to see a movie, anything’. Somehow, you became more of a colossal asshole than I am,” Toji hisses.

As you realize this isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, your eyes flit to the door, wanting to slip inside and escape the uncomfortable situation you’ve found yourself in the middle of. Unfortunately for you, Sukuna’s blocking the door and you don’t exactly feel like interrupting is the best course of action here, leaving you to simply watch.

You’re accustomed to Sukuna being quiet, he’s never been all that chatty, but during arguments is when he tends to run his mouth. Now, standing in front of Toji, the silence of his simmering anger is off-putting. Toji seems to realize this too, shifting on the balls of his feet.

But words evade Sukuna. His mind races with rage-induced insults, anything to drive Toji away, get the man out of his business.

Yet his tongue is tied because Toji is painfully right.

Toji has always had an attitude that rivaled Sukuna’s and never backs down from a fight. His sharp and witty tongue would tell off Sukuna whenever he needed some perspective and the two were fiercely protective of one another. Toji was like a brother to Sukuna back then.

But he was also an asshole. Still is. He was raised by a family notoriously well-known for being as equally wealthy as they are terrible and Toji had always been on the receiving end of it. He’d grown rebellious and indifferent at a young age and acted out at every turn, eventually settling as he got older into brutish and cocky indifference, though most just branded him as an asshole.

Yet Sukuna made him look like a saint as of late.

“Christ, Ryomen. You really got nothin’ to say ‘bout all of this?” Toji runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, the black strands slipping down over his forehead once more. “Maybe I should just ask your fuckin’ brother, I swear sometimes it’s like Jin didn’t even raise yo-”

Sukuna’s anger flares once more, pulled from his thoughts of the past. “He’s fucking dead, Toji.” Venom drips from Sukuna’s words, silencing not only his friend, but the world around you seems to hold its breath too. Nothing about the tense situation is comfortable but you don’t dare move, biting your lip to keep from making any noise.

Toji blinks once, twice, three times. The words take a moment to process as he stands straight, before his brow furrows deeply. His mouth opens and closes a number of times as he searches for something to say, his spare hand scratching at his chest before hanging there for a moment, clutching at his shirt.

“When?” To your shock, Toji’s eyes are glazed with tears, and all you can do is shuffle from foot to foot, feeling nothing but sympathy for the poor man. From what you know of Jin, he was patient and kind and if Toji was Sukuna’s best friend, you can imagine he likely shared that kindness with Toji.

Sukuna’s expression takes a somber turn, the tension in his jaw dissipating somewhat. “Been a bit over three years.”

Toji blinks, a warm trail running down his cheek which he quickly wipes on his sleeve, burying his unprocessed grief beneath a layer of anger as something occurs to him.

“You didn’t think I’d wanna know?” It’s more of a rhetorical question, they both know the underlying issue of their problems all stem from Sukuna’s stubbornness. “You didn’t think to fuckin’ tell me?” This time, there’s more bite to his words. He may be glossy-eyed with sorrow, but he’s equally pissed now.

“It’s not your fucking business!” Sukuna barks, gripping the door frame with a white knuckled hand as he grits his teeth again. You peer past him at the door, searching for an escape, but Sukuna’s still soundly in your way.

“Like hell! He was more of a father to me than my parents ever were and you know that!” Toji takes a step back, turning to pace in a circle as he drags a hand down his face in disbelief. “Y’r such a fuckin’ prick, Ryomen. You always were, but shit.”

Someone clearing their throat down the hall turns your attention towards them. A kind-looking older woman with gray hair and soft eyes is just barely leaning out her door. “Sukuna, dear. Can I ask you to take this elsewhere?”

Turns out she’s your guardian angel.

To your relief, Sukuna simply points at the elevator, making a point of staring down Toji. The football player sighs deeply, rolling his eyes as he leads the way in silence. Sukuna casts you a glance, which then flickers towards the door in a silent question.

You nod, relieved, and slip into his apartment, finding Choso standing in the kitchen alone staring at the floor. He looks startlingly like a puppy with its tail between its legs.

Of course he would have heard everything.

As the door clicks shut behind you and you shuffle to slip your boots and jacket off, his gaze rises to you. A deep crease knits his brow, his eyes searching yours for something he doesn’t seem to find. Kneeling down, you wrap your arms around him in reassurance.

“Hey, sweetie.” You keep your voice soft and kind as Choso’s arms gingerly wrap around you. “Your apron looks great.”

He doesn’t reply, clinging tightly to you.

“Have you checked the potatoes?” A nod. “Are they ready yet?” A shake of his head. Frowning at his silence, you nod. “Do you wanna sit down?” 

Choso nods again, pulling back and plopping down right in the middle of the kitchen.

“Oh, I meant-” Choso looks up at you with those sad puppy-dog eyes and you plop down beside him. “Nevermind.” Sitting cross-legged, you glance around, but you don’t hear or see Yuji. “Where’s your brother?”

“At a friend’s.”

That’s a relief. You nod, ruffling Choso’s hair. At least you’ve gotten a couple of words out of the reserved little boy.

“What are you making?” You ask curiously, trying to peer up at the counter. From where you’re sitting, all you can make out is the top of the pot that you assume the potatoes Sukuna was giving instructions about earlier are boiling in.

Choso fiddles with the bottom of his apron. “Pie.”

“Pie? Shepherd’s pie?”

Choso nods.

“That sounds great,” you grin in an effort to lighten the mood, but Choso isn’t receptive to your efforts. You shuffle to sit closer to him, wrapping your arms around your knees. You’re not built for the floor like the kid is. “Do you wanna talk, Cho?” You query, quietly observing the way that his little hands, fiddling with his apron, slow to a halt before dropping into his lap.

“Why’s Kuna mad at Toji?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“I like Toji. He’s nice. Mostly.”

You blow a breath out through your nose in a semblance of a laugh, a faint smile drawing your lips upwards. “Mostly?”

Choso doesn’t share your amusement outwardly, but he entertains your question. “He was like another older brother,” he shrugs.

“With all the good and bad of a big brother. I get it,” you chuckle, shifting to lean back on your arms as you struggle to find a comfortable way to sit on the kitchen tile. “Did you spend a lot of time with Toji?”

Choso nods. “They ditched me at the theater once.”

Your brow raises. “At the theater?” Your question is laced in disbelief.

Choso nods.

“Why?”

“They wanted to see a scary movie.”

“Wow, they were mean older brothers,” you agree, absolutely planning on giving Sukuna a hard time for that.

“Dad grounded Kuna for a month.”

“He deserved it,” you smile, rubbing the kid’s back gently. Looking for any excuse to get up off the floor, you point up at the pot on the stove where the water continues to boil. “Let’s check the potatoes again.”

Choso nods, getting to his feet and stepping up onto a small stool.

“Careful not to burn yourself,” you urge, standing behind him as he takes a fork and stabs a potato. When it comes up on the fork easily, Choso turns off the stove, shooting a glance at you in a silent question of whether that’s what to do. You nod, helping him dump out the water and potatoes into a strainer and teaching him to mash them.

As he jabs the masher into the bowl of starch, he sticks his tongue out in concentration as you add salt and milk to the mixture for him.

Out of nowhere, Choso slows to a halt, his head whipping to face the window. Tilting your head, you follow his gaze when you realize that the two men who walked outside to continue their argument have raised their voices and they must be right below the window as you can faintly make out their words.

“Why wouldn’t you ask for help?”

“I don’t need help!”

Turning to Choso, you smile. “Keep mashing, okay?”

His eyes trail after you as you grab your boots and slide the balcony door open, stepping out into the cold. Hugging your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm, you peek over the railing at the two men below.

“If you weren’t my friend, I swear I woulda socked ya in the jaw by now, you-”

“Hey!” You call down, catching their attention as they both look up at you. “You’re upsetting Choso.”

Sukuna inhales a long breath, sighing loudly. “Look-” Sukuna begins, his voice strained in an effort to keep it down for Choso’s sake. “I don’t need any help-”

“Don’t need any help or don’t need my help?” Toji interjects, casting a glance at you. Your eyes widen slightly, heat rushing up your neck. Yeah, you could understand Toji being a bit hurt at the idea that Sukuna let you in while he pushed away his best friend.

Sukuna’s fingers curl at his sides into fists. “I don’t need your help,” he snarls.

“Fine.” Toji finally gives in, sick of not getting anywhere with the brash and stubborn history major. He shoves the box against Sukuna’s chest, turning on his heel to walk away. “My number’s on the note in the box. Call me if ya decide to stop bein’ a prick.”

Sukuna seethes as he watches Toji get in a beat up old Honda and drive off. If it were any colder, you swear you would be able to see steam coming from his ears. When the car’s out of sight, Sukuna’s sharp gaze rises to you, his expression unreadable besides his obvious anger. “Go inside. You’ll catch somethin’,” Sukuna calls.

“I will. You come inside too, you don’t have a jacket,” you point out.

Sukuna hardly even noticed, in truth, but regardless he makes his way inside just as you do. Shivering as warmth envelops you once more, you run your hands up and down your arms a few times in an attempt to generate heat while you pull your boots off.

Choso’s standing by his potatoes, unevenly chopping carrots and putting them in a smaller pot alongside some corn. He’s shockingly good in the kitchen, making his Christmas gifts and his eagerness to follow you as you cook make more sense.

Returning to Choso’s side, you help him fill the pot with water, setting it on the stove as you wait for the veggies to boil.

“Why are Kuna and Toji mean to each other?”

You ponder his question for a moment, dreading the idea of the former walking through the door anytime now. “They’re not very good at talking about their feelings,” you land on as an explanation.

“Why?”

Frowning, you contemplate his query.

You’re glad Choso’s speaking more, but his questions are giving you a run for your money.

“Not everyone is as good at understanding their feelings as you and I are,” you explain. “Your brother isn’t very good at it.”

“At what?” He gruffs, pushing through the door.

Fuuuuuu-

“Don’t worry about it.”

Luckily for you, Sukuna isn’t in the mood to argue with you. “Need a minute to cool off,” he grumbles, trudging to his room and shutting the door with an unintentional slam.

Sighing, you return to the vegetables as they steadily come to a boil.

Choso stares hard at the boiling pot above his line of sight, his brow knit into a deep scowl.

“What’s up, honey?” You ask with a tilt of your head, leaning down a bit to his height. He shakes his head in an effort to get his long hair out of his face, deep in thought. When it doesn’t work, he pushes it from his face, but it just falls back into his eyes. “Can I help?”

He nods, watching your movements as you quickly jog to the washroom to grab a couple of hair ties that you’d left behind the last time you’d helped him put his hair up. It only takes a moment before you’ve tied two messy buns up at the back of his head.

Now able to see, Choso’s thoughtful expression returns. “What’s up, honey?” You try again.

“Will you talk to Kuna? He listens to you.”

You chuckle quietly. “I don’t know about that.” Still, he does listen to you… a portion of the time, which is more than can be said for most. “What do you want me to talk to him about?”

“Being friends with Toji.”

Your heart twists at the meaning behind Choso’s words. Whether he misses Toji or simply wants Sukuna to be happier, you can’t say for sure, but it’s endearing nonetheless.

Gently rubbing his back, you nod. “Sure. When you can stab the carrots with a fork, turn the stove off, okay? Be super careful.”

Choso nods.

Making your way over to Sukuna’s door, you cautiously knock.

“Come in.”

Twisting the knob, you push inside slowly. His room is a bit messier than the last time you were in here, the memory making your heart race as you recall your heated kiss. Light floods in from the window, better illuminating the art and posters on his walls, as well as what you’re sure is a pile of lightly used hoodies that seems to have taken over his desk chair. His weights are scattered carelessly in front of his dresser, his work polo discarded atop the wooden furniture.

Sukuna eyes you from where he leans against his headboard, his gaze still filled with mild irritation, though he is holding the phone that Toji handed him. You suppose that’s an overall positive.

“Whaddya want?” Sukuna grumbles, though the frustration within his sharp gaze doesn’t carry over to his voice.

“Well,” you begin softly, making your way over to his bed to take a seat beside him. “I originally came to drop off some stuff and let you know you have a paper due tomorrow-”

“Fuck that,” he groans, slumping down as he goes through the new phone setup screen.

“- five thousand words, by the way.”

“On what?” He sighs, the phone illuminating his features as he continues going through setup.

“Charles Dickens.”

“No. You’re fuckin’ with me.”

“I’m unfortunately dead serious.”

Crimson eyes finally part from the phone as Sukuna scowls at you, searching for any sign that you’re lying. When he doesn’t find one, he flips onto his stomach with a muffled groan into the pillow. His bicep brushes your thigh and you swallow hard, reminding yourself he doesn’t feel that way for you and it’s just an accident.

“I fuckin’ told you she’s a conspiracy theorist,” he gruffs from deep within the pillow, barely audible past the material.

You giggle, thankful for the somewhat lighthearted subject. “I still can’t believe you were right.”

“Wish I wasn’t.”

Silence falls over you as Sukuna remains buried in his pillow, finally raising his head with a prolonged sigh. He rests his chin on the pillow, staring tiredly at the gray material of his headboard. The fabric is worn where he usually sits, beginning to tear where his back slumps against it when he uses his laptop.

Not like he has the cash for a new one anyway.

“Is that all ya came in here for?” He asks finally, eyes still trained on the way threads are pulled taut in the fabric, barely held together as they wear thin.

“Uraume had me drop off a couple of things too. But-”

“Why’d you bring Toji?” Sukuna interrupts suddenly, lifting his gaze to scowl at you.

Blinking at his sudden change in demeanor, you shake your head. “He was here when I got here.”

“That prick,” he mutters under his breath, dropping his chin to stare at his headboard.

“You know, Choso sent me in here.”

“Great,” the salmon-haired man mumbles, “what does the brat want? I left the recipe for him.”

“Be nice to your brother. He’s going through a lot,” you scold.

“And I’m not?” He hisses, his head raising to look at you. When you return his scowl, he backs down, chin on his pillow again.

“Cho misses Toji. He wanted me to talk to you about being friends with him again.”

Your words silence Sukuna’s sharp tongue as all he can do is stare down at the black pillowcase beneath him. He shuffles slightly, his arm pressing into you.

He may be stubborn about Toji, but his brothers never fail to crack his tough exterior. As of late though, his demeanor doesn’t simply crack when it comes to his brothers, it crumbles. Sukuna flips onto his side, eyes downcast as he faces you now with one arm under the pillow and the other moving up to rest on your thigh.

Your breath catches in your throat at the feeling of his large hand squeezing the plush of your thigh.

Mirroring Sukuna’s frown, you set your hand over his softly. “What happened between you two anyway?”

Sukuna sighs. “Nothing, really. We just didn’t talk about heavy shit so I never told him what was goin’ on.”

Of course that’s all there is to it. Grimacing, you drum your fingers lightly over the back of his hand as you debate whether you want to say something. His eyes watch the movement intently, drawn to the way your fingers feel so soft on his skin.

“I’m gonna say something-” you pause, watching his eyes flicker up to meet yours, “- and you aren’t allowed to get upset with me.”

Sukuna’s brow twitches, curling into a scowl. “I don’t get mad over every little thing.”

If ever there was a time you gave Sukuna a look, this was it. “So last week, when you chased me down to my car-”

Flipping back to his stomach until his face is shoved back in his pillow, he mutters a “shut up” that barely makes it to your ears, thoroughly muffled. Regardless, you laugh, gently patting the hand that remains on your thigh.

“I know you’re letting me in, and that’s great, but Toji’s just trying to help too,” you point out.

Sukuna doesn’t move, the musculature of his back rising and falling steadily as he stubbornly keeps his face buried in his pillow.

“You never told me he used to be your best friend.”

“You never asked.” Again, you can barely make out his words.

Sighing, you rest a hand on his back. His muscles seize briefly beneath the tips of your fingers, before relaxing as you rub small circles between his shoulder blades. Sukuna lifts his head finally after a moment, turning his face to you as he remains on his stomach. He looks more at ease than he has in a long while, likely because he obviously skipped class to sleep, though you’re sure the gentle massaging of your hand is nice too.

“Why is it so bad to let him in?” You query, the tips of your fingers brushing against his spine. A shiver overtakes him, though he does his best to mask it.

“I took the damn phone,” he grumbles, as though there isn’t a bigger point to this whole situation.

Your lips press into a thin line as you stare at the stubborn man. Your fingers pause as you contemplate your next words. “The Zenins are pretty rich, aren’t they? Why don’t you ask for a hand with the lawyer-”

“I’m not a fucking charity case,” he hisses, every muscle pulled taut as he glares at you, an unspoken warning laced within his tone that you’re pushing his buttons.

You work your fingers across his muscles again, soothing him to release the tension in his shoulders. Slowly but surely, he relaxes in the silence, basking in the warmth of your hand.

“I never said you were. You could pay him back.”

“No.” He gruffs firmly.

It takes everything in you not to raise your head to the heavens and groan. Sukuna can be so ridiculously frustrating sometimes.

Stubborn as a mule, you have no other option but to give in. “Well… Just remember what Choso said.”

“I took the phone, isn’t that good enough for the brat?”

“It’s a hand-me-down phone, not a friendship bracelet,” you point out, unable to stifle the giggle that comes with your words.

Sukuna cracks an eye open, rolling it dramatically before flipping his face to stare at the wall. A comfortable silence hangs over you as Sukuna shuts his eyes after a moment, enjoying the feeling of your fingers smoothing across his muscles. The sun warms your skin through his window, goading a yawn from you as you find yourself leaning against his headboard. Your fingers slide along his shoulder blades as you find yourself shutting your eyes in the serene warmth of the afternoon sun.

Your hand slowly begins to still as fatigue overtakes both of you, and you bask in the cozy environment like a cat finding a patch of light.

It’s not until you hear a clank from the kitchen that you’re snapped out of your drowsiness and realize that Sukuna’s not the only one with a paper due tomorrow.

Glancing at the time, you pat Sukuna’s back gently. His head raises as he blearily looks you over, a questioning look on his face. It’s painfully sweet, the way he seems to be wondering why you stopped like a cat wondering why you’re no longer petting them.

Seems like you were a pair of happy cats for a moment.

“I need to go write that paper, and so should you.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

“I’ll help Choso get the food in the oven, sound good?”

Sukuna hums again, rubbing his eyes.

“Send me your number, by the way. I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

“I have a morning shift after I drop the brats off,” he grumbles. “I’ll try to be there.”

“Just don’t forget about your paper!” You remind him, slipping off the bed towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Bonus points if you talk about Dickens’ death conspiracy theory!” You chant when you reach the doorway, a mischievous smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

He snorts, rolling his eyes as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “Where he died doesn’t fuckin’ change anything.”

With a grin, you just giggle along, heading out the door.

With his hands clutching the edge of the mattress, the burly man stares silently at the gray carpet beneath his feet. He can barely make out the sound of your voice, saccharine sweet and gentle, as you direct Choso while helping him put together the meal.

Lifting a hand, he subconsciously scratches at his spine between his shoulder blades, sending a shiver through his body.

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❦ a/n ; soooo this was originally meant to end on a different scene but by the time i hit 20k words i figured i should split it LOL sorry for the delay! had to take a small break for my mental health, but! the next chapter is already at 8k since i chose to split this, so i should be able to get it out soon <33 as always, thank you so much for all the love! i've gotten so many sweet comments, rbs, and asks and i absolutely love hearing everyone's thoughts on the chapter. ily all <33

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Bloodlines entwined: III | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child. 

—  pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  words: 7,460

—  warnings: mention of death, murder, and abortion, crying, kind of heartbreak, nervousness, a tiny growing sexual tension, and some teasing  

—  author’s note: sssooo this chapter finally explains a bit more about the werewolf universe, and i hope it’s a bit clearer for you. a lot more explanations will come throughout the series as i can’t reveal it all in one chapter. the next chapter is actually my favourite and i definelty can’t wait to post it 😊 hope you’ll enjoy this one & let me know what you think <3  

taglist is closed!

Chapter III: untold truth

SERIES MASTERLIST | previous | next

Jungkook spent the rest of the night thinking about you. He couldn’t believe what he saw. He couldn’t believe that you’re a werewolf.

Obviously, you’re not aware of it otherwise you wouldn’t have reacted the way you did when he revealed the existence of the werewolf word. Normally, you should have recognized him since he’s the king, but you didn’t. So, he strongly believes that you were adopted. That’s the only reason that could explain why you aren’t aware.  

Now, he needs to understand why you were adopted. A pack never gives up on their little ones. He can think of many reasons why, but he needs to figure out what happened to you. He doesn’t want to simply reveal your true nature without having any certainty.

However, what concerns him is the fact that you haven’t turned yet. Normally, around fourteen years old, under a full moon, you should have experienced your first transformation. Maybe the fact that you ignore everything about that has caused your wolf blood to be dormant.

The next morning, he started looking into every record he has access to about the Shadows. The blue eyes are a characteristic specific to the Shadow pack. Every pack has its own eye color; it’s the way to distinguish every wolf. Jungkook’s pack, the Bloods, has red eyes. However, his eyes have a darker red shade. This is a trait specific to the king; he inherits it the second he goes from heir to king.

“Jungkook,” Taehyung, his best friend makes his way inside his office.

The man looks up at his best friend before a bright smile appears on his face. It’s been a little while since they last saw each other. Taehyung has been traveling a lot lately; he said he wants to discover the world before settling with his mate. However, it looks like he doesn’t want to settle down at all.

“Hey, Tae,” he stands up to greet his best friend. “What are you doing here? I thought you were lost somewhere in France.”

“Well, I needed to come back,” he replies with a smile. “Couldn’t stay forever in France.”  

Both men start talking about what has been happening for the last month. Jungkook doesn’t go too much into detail. He only mentions he contacted a fertility clinic, and that he’s right now concerned about something happening in the Shadow pack.

Taehyung, on his side, tells his friend about all the places he went to. He was in Europe, discovering a lot of different countries. He definitely adored going around and discovering new cultures, new food, and meeting new people. For sure, his favorite place was Paris.

“Do you need any help with those Shadows research?” Taehyung asks casually although his sharp gaze indicates that he already knows the answer.

Jungkook nods, his shoulders visibly tense. He’s never been one to ask for help, but this time he definitely would need some.

“I wouldn’t refuse it,” he answers to his most trusted friend.

Taehyung crosses his arms, leaning against Jungkook’s wooden bookcase.

“What exactly are you looking for?” he frowns while grabbing a book.  

“I don’t really know,” Jungkook says. “A record, a mention, a trace of a couple that died or disappeared,” he explains.

Taehyung looks up at his friend before looking down at the book again. By pure coincidence, the book he’s holding is an old one about the different werewolf packs. It’s one of the first books he read; it details the characteristics of each pack.

“A couple who died or disappeared?” he repeats his friend’s words. “Is this by any chance related to a girl?”

Jungkook freezes for a split second, but it’s enough for Taehyung to catch. He’s been very observant, especially when it comes to Jungkook.

“No,” he lies, his voice steady and firm.

Taehyung isn’t convinced; his eyes narrow as he studies his friend. He knows Jungkook better than anyone else, and while he’s very good at hiding his emotions, there’s something in his posture, something in the way he’s looking at Taehyung, that betrays him.

 “You’re unreadable when you want it, you know that?” Taehyung finally says, walking closer to his friend who is standing behind his desk. “But something tells me this isn’t just about finding old records. If you’re diving into the Shadows' history, there’s a good reason behind it. You don’t waste your time on anything without a reason.”

Jungkook sights while running a hand through his hair. “It’s complicated, Tae.”

“You know I’m here, right? Whatever this is, whatever you’re digging into, you don’t have to do it alone.”  

The werewolf king would love to tell him everything, but he doesn’t want to involve anyone at this stage. First, he needs to make sure you’re a werewolf, and only then, he’ll reveal it.

“I know, Tae. I just need to be sure before I tell you anything,” his voice lowers. “Before I tell anyone anything.”

Taehyung nods, understanding that his best friend will share when he’s ready.

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll start digging into the Shadow Pack archives. See if I can find anything about missing couples and unexplained disappearances.”

Taehyung’s aunt is married to a Shadow alpha so it will definitely help. As a king, he for sure has access to a lot of records, but not everything. Each pack has its own secrets, and that’s the beauty of it. If Jungkook knew everything, his job would be boring. There’s always something new to unveil. Like your past.

Taehyung disappears a little while after, leaving Jungkook alone with his eyes fixed on the flames in the fireplace. The shadows dance across the stone walls, but his mind is somewhere else, on you, and on the fragile heartbeat growing inside you. He can still hear it perfectly.

He runs a hand down his face before letting out a deep breath. This was never supposed to go down like that. This mistake was never supposed to happen. But the raw and undeniable truth has already sunk its claws into him.  

How can he turn away from this? From you? From the baby?

He remembers the flicker of blue in your eyes. It’s been replaying constantly on his mind, but what is deeply engraved in him is this connection with you. He constantly feels your presence around him, something he’s never felt with anyone else.  

Even though he’s been deeply sorry to have brought you to his world, this flicker of blue made him realize that he brought you to your world. A world you didn’t know existed until he revealed it. His duty has been telling him to stay away, but he can’t.

The thought creeps in quietly, yet with unshakable certainty: This was never a mistake.  

The world may call it an accident, but Jungkook can feel something deeper, something ancient, something undeniable. Fate, destiny… whatever name it might have, it brought the two of you here. Together.

Every choice and every moment has led to this point. To you.

Now, standing quietly in his study, he feels the truth settling deep in his bones. This child growing inside you was always meant to happen. Jungkook leans against the edge of his desk.

“I can’t abandon this child, my child,” he whispers to himself. “I can’t abandon yn.”

It isn’t about duty anymore. It’s about you. It’s about the fragile life caught between two worlds, and the bond he can already feel forming. Whether he’s ready to admit it or not. Jungkook straightens up, shoulders squared, and jaw tight. The king in him knows what needs to be done, but the man knows what he wants to do.

“I’m staying,” he runs his hand over his hair.

This isn’t just a choice. It’s the acceptance of what was always meant to be. Whatever challenges await, Jungkook knows one thing with absolute certainty: This was always supposed to happen.

For the past five days, Jungkook and Taehyung have been trying to find anything about missing couples and mysterious disappearances, but it’s been in vain. There’s absolutely nothing. Thirty years ago, nothing special happened.

However, Jungkook asked Sungmin, Taehyung’s uncle to meet. Records are one thing, but Jungkook knows better than anyone that there might have been something off records that happened. Some secrets are kept hidden, locked away in the minds of those who lived them.

“Thanks for having me, Mister Song,” Jungkook says as he enters Sungmin’s house.

“I couldn’t refuse my king’s visit,” he replies with a warm smile.

Many people believe that the Alphas of every pack refuse the authority of a king, but those closest to the throne are often the first to kneel. For sure, Jungkook’s natural leadership certainly helps. However, the truth is that the werewolf hierarchy isn’t just a tradition; it’s more than that. Every werewolf deeply holds onto it.

“I could say that I’m surprised, but it’d be a lie,” he admits while he guides Jungkook towards the terrace. “I was expecting it after Tae’s request.”

“I imagine,” Jungkook responds.

The covered terrace is a serene and private space. Jungkook’s eyes quickly scan the surroundings. It’s a little but pretty space. Plates, cups, and a selection of biscuits are neatly arranged on the modest wooden table.

“Would you like some coffee or tea?” Sungmin gestures for Jungkook to sit.

“A coffee would be fine,” Jungkook answers.

The man takes one of the porcelain carafes on the table and carefully pours the drink into a cup, placing it in front of Jungkook.

“I was originally looking for a couple’s death or disappearances in your pack, but I couldn’t find anything documented,” Jungkook is straightforward.

Sungmin nods thoughtfully. “When do you believe this event happened?”

“Around thirty years ago,” he says.

Tae’s uncle freezes for a brief moment at his answers. His eyes flicker with something that Jungkook recognizes instantly: recognition mixed with hesitation. This is it. This might be the key to understanding your past.

“Something did happen thirty years ago,” Sungmin admits. “But we didn’t keep any trace of it out of respect to the family concerned.”

Jungkook is definitely very intrigued about this.

“The eldest daughter of an estimated member of our pack fell in love with a human. Despite our objections, she decided to run away with him. We all knew why,” he shakes his head as he remembers the sad story. “She was pregnant with that human child.”

The werewolf king listens patiently, absorbing every word.

“We didn’t inform your father immediately as we thought we could handle it ourselves. Involving the king into this would have drawn unwanted attention to this. For us, Shadows, discretion is everything.”

Jungkook nods, knowing perfectly the Shadow’s reputation. They are the ghosts of the werewolf world, unseen and often unheard, but fiercely loyal and deadly when necessary. The Shadows blend into their surroundings, disappearing when needed.

“We looked for them for years but couldn’t find them,” he seems really affected as he recalls what happened. “They were clever. They stayed hidden, and after nine years, we had no choice but to involve your father.”

Jungkook nods, understanding that after all that time, it’s normal to be reaching out to the king. “And he found them.”

Sungmin sighs deeply. “Yes. Your father had better resources than us. Within a year, he found them. Thankfully, this stayed between us and the king. He let us deal with this internally,” he explains.

The air feels heavier now, the weight of unspoken words pressing down on the two men.

“They were living in a totally different city. And they had indeed a child. A ten-year-old kid…”

Jungkook notices how hard it is for Sungmin to remember this terrible event.  

“It was very hard to end their lives, but we had to. The woman, her human mate, the kid, the life they had built… all of it was extinguished.”

Sungmin pauses, his throat tightening. For a moment, Jungkook sees the weight of guilt appearing on the older Alpha’s face.

“Killing a child was way too hard, but hybrids are forbidden. A child of two worlds, carrying both human and werewolf blood could destabilize everything. We told ourselves it was necessary.”  

Jungkook grips the edge of his coffee cup, his jaw clenched. The thought of such a decision sits uneasily within him. He’s not sure he would have had the strength to do that. It is one thing to terminate a pregnancy, but killing a ten-year-old child is totally another story.

“Did anyone else know about this? Anyone outside the pack?”

“No, only your father, and now you.”

“Do you think it’s possible that the child survived?” Jungkook asks, his voice steady but intense.

Sungmin looks directly into his king’s eyes. “We are certain they didn’t.”  

Jungkook leans back in the chair, his mind racing. If the child had somehow survived, if they had slipped through the cracks of fate, then everything changes. And if that child was you… He shakes his head, not sure that it’s possible.

“Thank you, Mister Song. This has been illuminating.”

Jungkook steps away, his heart beating fast. There are too many resemblances between this story and your story.

To yn: hi yn, could we meet tonight or tomorrow?

Barely a minute later he receives an answer.

From yn: hi Jungkook, tonight is fine. Same place as last time?

To yn: sure

As you’re walking towards the location you agreed with Jungkook, you try to understand the reason behind his sudden need to talk to you. This is unexpected for you, so it definitely makes you nervous. Is he going to tell you that he changed his mind about the baby? Is he going to pressure you to abort considering the hybrid situation? Or even worse, has something happened? Your mind races through every possibility.

“Calm down, yn,” you mumble to yourself.

You take a deep breath, your eyes closing for a brief moment. The beating of your heart drums in your ears, and slowly, you can hear it calming down. You can’t start overthinking before you even get to listen to what Jungkook wants to tell you. Maybe it’s nothing serious or something you have to really worry about.

When you arrive, you notice you’re the first one; Jungkook hasn’t arrived yet. So, you decide to sit on the closest bench. You look at the passersby walking around you with ‘Tití Me Perguntó’ from Bad Bunny playing in your headphones. It’s one of your favorite songs.

After a couple of minutes, you feel Jungkook’s presence. Your eyes stare at the surroundings to check if he’s indeed nearby. Your senses are right, you see a man walking in your direction. Even when he walks, he has such an imposing posture.

This presence feeling grows stronger as he gets closer to you, and you can’t seem to look away, as if your eyes are glued on him. Weird things have been happening with Jungkook since you’ve met him, and you can’t quite explain them.

Once he’s in front of you, you stand up, a smile naturally growing on your face. He’s incredibly handsome and charming. Once again, he has opted for a casual look: a white shirt layered under a leather jacket completed with loose, brown suede-like pants.

His strong presence near you soothes you in a way you never experienced before. All the nervousness you were feeling minutes ago is completely washed away. His strong and bestial scent fills the air and calms down your racing thoughts.

For a moment, you remain in silence, but it isn’t an awkward one. It’s actually quite the opposite. His gaze holds yours, and the intensity of his eyes draws you even more. It feels like none of you needs to speak. It is as if the two of you are communicating on a deeper level that doesn’t need language.

“Hi,” you break the silence.

“Hey, yn,” he takes a step closer.

By the way he approaches you, you sense he’s about to hug you or something similar. You prepare yourself for such, but he ends up not doing it. Jungkook just stands there, a shy smile appearing on his face.

“How have you been feeling?” he asks with evident concern in his voice.

As always, being around him comforts you. It makes you feel like you don’t need to hold anything back. There’s no need to hide your thoughts and feelings behind a mask. You can be entirely honest, saying what you truly feel without the fear of being judged. It’s part of the weird things you’ve been experiencing with Jungkook. It’s something you never felt with anyone else, not even an ex. This makes you wonder just how much this connection truly means.

“Very much torn apart by the decision I need to make,” you admit.

“Have you already considered one of them?” he questions.

You decide to sit down on the bench, your hands rubbing your face. Should you be telling him that you’re very much inclined to keep the baby? Isn’t it better if he doesn’t know anything? In any case, he won’t be around anymore. He said he’d walk away.

“I’ve kind of made a decision,” you try to be as vague as possible.

Jungkook takes a seat next to you. This time around, he doesn’t seem to try to look away from you. His deep dark orbs stare straight into your eyes. As usual, he’s pretty much unreadable, but he has that soft expression on his face. It almost looks like he truly cares and worries about you.

“In case you…” he seems to hesitate, but he doesn’t look away. “If you keep the baby,” he continues, and your heart starts hammering in your chest. “I think I won’t be able to step away.”

You close your eyes while taking a deep breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to be feeling right now.

“I thought stepping away was the right decision,” he starts explaining. “Every time I tried to pull back, I find myself being drawn to you… to our child.”

The word ‘our child’ sends shivers down your spine.   

“I can’t turn my back on this—not on you, not on them.”

As he says those words, his eyes look down at your stomach, where a precious life is growing. Even though your eyes are closed, you can feel his gaze on you. You can feel it on your baby. You can simply feel Jungkook. His entire being calls for you, and your body responds to it by being completely drawn to him.

“Why now?” your voice trembles as your eyes open to look at him. “What has changed?”

This doesn’t make any sense. Almost a month ago, he told you that he couldn’t father this child because you aren’t a werewolf, and that this child's existence is completely forbidden. Things are still the same, nothing has changed since then.

“You said you couldn’t have this child because of the whole werewolf thing,” your voice tone is slowly getting higher.

Jungkook’s face now seems to soften and it looks like he carries an emotional weight. There is definitely something going on that you can’t quite explain. And it’s scaring you.

“I think…” he runs his hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you’ve started to recognize. “You’re not just a woman carrying my child,” he seems to struggle to express what’s inside his mind. “I think you might be one of us.”

His words hand in the air, your entire body freezing. For a moment, it feels like the world completely stopped moving. You blink at him, trying to process the enormity of what he just said. At this stage it feels like, Jungkook likes to make cruel jokes. First, it’s the werewolf world, and now, it’s this. How on earth can you be a werewolf? It’s simply impossible. If that was the case, you would have already turned or something like that.

“What are you talking about?” the sharpness of your voice even surprises you.  

Anger grows inside you, but it masks the deeper emotion of fear that you can feel. Your heart starts pounding erratically in your chest as the air grows heavier. How dare he? How dare he turn your world upside down with this unbelievable claim? You stand up, trying to calm yourself down.

“That’s impossible,” you say with a trembling voice.

You rest a hand on top of your heart, trying to anchor yourself, but the panic bubbling beneath your surface is relentless. The thought of upsetting the baby crosses your mind, but it doesn’t help to calm you.

Jungkook stands as well, hands raising as if he’s about to reassure you, but as he does so, he watches you disappear before his eyes.

“It’s incredible,” he whispers to himself.

Now, he has solid proof that you’re indeed a werewolf, a member of the Shadow pack.

“Yn, listen to me.”

“No, Jungkook,” you cut him off. “I am not a werewolf. That’s ridiculous. If I were one, I would have transformed or something like that.”

“Maybe,” he says quietly. “But you didn’t know you were one so things might work differently in that case.”

“Stop!” you scream. “Just stop. Do you even hear yourself? Do you even realize what you’re saying?”

Jungkook stands there, looking somewhere, but he doesn’t even know where you are.

“Take your phone, yn,” he tells you.

“What?” you say with evident surprise, and your anger turns into confusion.

“Just take your phone,” he repeats, his tone calm but firm.

Still breathing heavily and with shaky hands, you look for your phone in your purse. You’re not sure why he’s saying that or what to expect when you look at your phone.

“Now, pretend like you’ll take a selfie.”

As you look at him, there is something in his expression that compels you to obey. Slowly you lift your phone, positioning it in front of your face. The moment your screen comes into view, your breath catches in your throat. Your reflection is completely gone.

Your mind struggles to understand what is going on. The town square is visible in the background, clear as day, but your face is missing. It’s as though you’ve been erased from existence.  

“What is happening?” you almost scream. “What kind of sorcery is this?”

Your gaze remains glued to the phone, your hand trembling so much that the image blurs. You’re gone. Completely gone. Your hand instinctively goes to your face, touching your skin as though it might bring you back into view. But when you glance at the screen again, even your hand remains invisible. This can’t be true. How can you even disappear? How is that possible?

“It’s not sorcery,” he calmly replies. “It’s you. It’s your nature. Only a werewolf can do that.”

“No! That’s not true. That’s not who I am. I’m human. I’ve always been human,” you shake your head before putting your phone back in your purse. “But I’m carrying your child so that must be it.”

Jungkook shakes his head.

“That’s not how it works, yn. I swear,” he’s trying to look for you, so it makes him look like a crazy man. “Pregnancies only bring out even more any abilities someone has,” he explains. “This pregnancy is simply revealing your true nature.”

Tears stream down your face while your heart hurts.

“Have you been experiencing some weird stuff lately?” he says. “Like heightened hearing or smell or night vision or superhuman strength or even super speed.”

Then, your body freezes once more.

“No,” you answer, and for a moment, you hesitate to reveal the truth. “But I’ve always had heightened hearing and smell, and I perfectly see in the dark.”

This all confirms what he says. You’re a werewolf.  

“I can hear your heartbeat,” you add. “I can hear everybody's heartbeats, even the baby’s.”

You close your eyes, the truth violently hitting you. All this time you’ve been a werewolf, and nobody told you anything. You’re not sure Felix knows it, but it hurts to realize that your parents hid something so big from you. It’s your nature after all. 

“You have your answer, yn,” he responds.

Now, you’re crying because the world is collapsing underneath your feet. Your life has been filled with lies, and you’re only discovering this now. It hurts even more that it’s the father of your child who’s revealing this and not your parents.

Jungkook follows the sound of your tears to come closer. You fall in his arms, holding him as tight as possible. He tries to hold you back in his arms, but he doesn’t see you at all. The only thing that can make you reappear is for you to relax. Your emotions are the keys to your powers.

“Focus on the baby’s heartbeat,” he murmurs in your ear. “Focus only on that.”

While tears keep running down your face, you try to search for your baby’s heartbeat. It’s super faint, but you quickly find it. This little sound has rocked you to sleep so many times, and it’s one of the most comforting sounds you’ve ever heard.

“Tudum, Tudum, Tudum,” Jungkook starts mimicking the sound of the baby’s beat.

You close your eyes to only focus on that sound. Slowly but surely, you reappear which reassures Jungkook, and he holds you tighter in his arms. His warm embrace and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat calm you down. He presses a gentle kiss on your head while his hands start to soothe your back. Seeing you like this is heartbreaking, and he hates the fact that he was the one delivering this news.

For a little while, you both remain like this, and his arms feel like the safest place on earth. Even if you hate this entire situation, his presence reassures you. Everything about this moment right now appeases your soul. There is absolutely no doubt that the reality you now have to face is devastating, but you feel like you’ll have Jungkook by your side. And strangely, it seems like it’s the only thing that you need.

Today was a hell of a day!

Everything was simply awful, and it felt like it was a never-ending day. Your mind was constantly thinking about the words Jungkook said. ‘I think you might be one of us.’ You swear you could hear them on repeat all day long.  

Due to how you’ve been feeling, you’ve left everybody on read—even Jungkook. Dealing with this strange reality is too heavy, and you need space. You need some time to digest the news. You need time to simply breathe.

Once you’re at home, you wrap yourself in your Harry Potter robe, lay on the couch, and play the first Harry Potter movie. Right now, all you need is to find comfort in something, and Harry Potter is your escape.

Although the movie is playing in the background, you’re not really watching it. Your thoughts are totally lost somewhere else, somewhere that includes werewolves. You can’t believe that this is your new reality. It hurts deeply that your parents never said anything to you. How could they keep something so monumental from you? Were they intending to let this part of themselves, this part of you die in silence?

Things would have been completely different if they had informed you about that side of you. Maybe you would have sought answers earlier. Maybe you would have explored what it means to carry this legacy. There is a whole culture, heritage, and part of yourself that you’ve missed out on for thirty years. And what hurts the most is that you hate your parents right now. For years, you’ve been hating your parents’ murderer, and now, the tables have turned.

You hate them for what they withheld, for what they never gave you a chance to understand.

This whole journey of becoming a mom has been a complete nightmare. This hasn’t been going as planned. This has been anything but easy. And now, it leaves you wondering if you should really keep the baby. Maybe, you should simply terminate the pregnancy and leave this all behind. But will this be so simple? Obviously, not.

Terminating the pregnancy won’t change anything. It wouldn’t change the fact that Jungkook came into your life to completely wreck your world. Cutting short the life growing inside you will probably just make you feel guilty for doing it. Jungkook won’t disappear, and neither will your wolf side.

This isn’t fair.

Fairness has never been part of your life. It feels like your life has always been robbed. Everybody has been controlling it, making you feel completely powerless all the time. This pregnancy was about gaining control again, but even like that, it wasn’t. A big part of you wants to keep this baby, and you’re very much inclined to keep them. But you don’t know. Jungkook’s revelation still needs to be processed.

“What am I going to do, baby?” you whisper as your hands naturally caress your stomach.

In the end, this baby isn’t a hybrid one. They’re fully a werewolf. You can understand why Jungkook changed his mind. He didn’t want the child because he believed it was a hybrid, something completely forbidden in his world. But now that it’s not the case, he wants to be part of his child's life, if you keep it.

It makes perfect sense, but the hurt remains. He gets what he wants, doesn’t he? The chance to raise his child. But what about you? What about what you want?

“You’re a wolfy,” you continue saying. “So, your daddy wants you now.”

However, if you keep this child, you’ll have to teach them what it means to be a werewolf. You’ll have to guide and prepare them for a life you know nothing about. You’ll have to learn everything with them; every instinct, every tradition, and every secret. You’ll develop your wolf’s abilities together. This life inside you isn’t just a new life; it’s a symbol of your own transformation. This child represents the end of your human life and the beginning of something different.

Are you ready for that?

You’re not sure. You’re not sure if you want to embark on this new journey. A journey where you figure out who and what you are. A journey where you’ll have to dig into your parents’ past. A journey where you’ll have to face your ghosts. A journey where you might find all the answers you’ve always desired to have.

Jungkook seems to hold the key to all of that. The truth, the answers, and the future. You need him, more than you want to admit. He’s the only werewolf you know, and he might as well be your guide on this.

Even if everything scares you, this is what will help you to figure out what happened to your parents twenty years ago. This is the key to finally getting to truly know them. This hasn’t been going as you planned it, but it has been going the way you need it.  

For now, you’re simply going to enjoy this comforting and reassuring movie before truly facing this new reality of yours. Tonight is your last night as a human, and tomorrow, you’ll start to understand what it means to be a werewolf.

For the millionth time, you check that your apartment is perfectly cleaned and tidied. Jungkook is coming tonight; you’ve invited him over to discuss this werewolf thing. You’re incredibly nervous as you’re very scared of how things could go. Are you going to learn some unpleasant truths about your lineage?

Also, you can’t forget to tell him you have your first ultrasound tomorrow. He’ll probably want to come as he’s expressed his change of mind concerning this child. Your child. Instinctively your hand cradles your stomach.

Before the doorbell echoes in your apartment, you sense Jungkook’s presence behind the door. This thing of sensing him is definitely extremely weird, and you’re not even sure you’ll get used to it. But you guess, it’s part of being a werewolf.

You take a deep breath while opening the door to him. As he comes into view, his beauty takes your breath away. His hair is perfectly pushed back, only a strand of hair falling on his forehead. This time around, he’s dressed in a more formal outfit. Like the first time you met him at the clinic, he’s wearing a suit. Only this time, it’s a dark blue one.

And it fits him so well.

A smile grows on his face when his eyes lay on you. It warms your heart, and you can’t help but smile back at him.  

“Hi, yn,” he says.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you reply. “Come on in,” you take a step back to let him in.

Jungkook steps into your cocoon, his gaze briefly wandering at the entrance. With practiced ease, he shrugs off his long black coat, the movement accentuating the subtle play of his muscles. Your curious eyes can’t help but follow the way his shoulders shift and his arms flex as he removes his coat and slips off his shoes.

A little grin shows up when he realizes you’ve been staring at him. However, you both pretend you didn’t notice what the other was doing. It’s like you’re pretending you don’t feel drawn to each other.

“Would you like to drink or eat something?” you politely ask.

“No, no,” he shakes his head. “I’ve already eaten and drank enough for today,” a little giggle escapes his pretty lips. “I had a long and exhausting meeting this afternoon.”

“Oh,” you simply say. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to eat a bit because I’m quite hungry.”

His eyes inevitably look down at your stomach, the sound of the child’s heartbeat resonating in his ears. It’s such a comforting sound.

“No,” he answers. “Eat as much as you want.”

You drag him to the kitchen so you can eat something while you discuss about the madness that your life has become. You open the cabinets to check what you have, but then, you remember you bought your favorite yogurt two days ago. Without no further hesitation, you move to the fridge, grab it together with a spoon, and start eating it.

While you do that, Jungkook’s eyes are glued on you. His stare carefully follows you as you move through the kitchen. Honestly, he’s glad to be here with you; he finally gets to see you in your comfort zone, and you definitely seem to be glowing in this place.

“Can I ask you what you do for a living?” you ask while bringing the spoon to your mouth.

His eyes follow your hand before looking up. He leans on the cabinets while never looking away from you. Jungkook crosses his arms on his chest and heavily considers what to tell you.

“Well…” he seems hesitant to reveal it. “I’m not sure you’re going to believe me.”

You tilt your head, wondering what it could be. Is he working with the mafia like you thought before he announced his wolfy side? Or is he some kind of criminal? Or is it the opposite, like a doctor?

“Try me,” you tease him.

Jungkook didn’t know up until now how much he needed to hear the teasing tone in your voice.

His eyes never cease to follow your hand’s movements with the spoon. It’s mesmerizing, holding him captive as if he’s unable to look away. The way your lips wrap around the spoon sends shivers down his spine. Jungkook shakes his head, pushing away those weird thoughts. It’s inappropriate.

“I’m a king,” his tone is firm, leaving no room for doubts.

You almost choke with the spoon in your mouth. Of all the jobs you considered, this one definitely wasn’t on the list. This is beyond unexpected and by the way he looks, you know that he isn’t joking. You’ve seen his serious face so many times now, so you know he’s telling the truth.

“A king?” you repeat to make sure you heard it right.

Jungkook nods, and then, you can’t unsee it. This entire outfit breathes power—and money—, his charisma is beyond magnetic, and he has a strong presence. Let’s not forget about the unreadable face he always has on. There is definitely something royal about him, and he definitely looks like a king.

“That makes the child in my belly a future king or queen then?” you ask half-jokingly.

“Yep,” he answers. “And as a king, I’m expected to give the perfect heir, so the hybrid child wasn’t really one.”

When he explained the situation a month ago, everything made sense, but now it makes even more sense. This child carries royal blood.

“I’m not carrying anyone’s kid,” you playfully say. “A king,” you whisper.

This definitely changes your view of the situation. Now that he wants this child, it makes them the heir to the werewolf throne. The baby growing inside you will one day be a king or a queen. It makes you feel important but scared as well.

“It’s crazy,” you look up at him while bringing the spoon to your mouth once more.

Right there and then, your heart skips a beat when you realize the way he’s looking at you, or should you say, the way his eyes are devouring you. You can’t remember the last time someone looked at you in that way.

“It is,” he admits.

“And what does a werewolf king do exactly?” you curiously ask.

“Many things,” he smiles at you. “I’m the supreme leader of the packs which makes me the bridge between them. If any issue arises between them, I have to resolve them and also make sure the werewolves follow the rules. I’m also their protector. I must ensure the laws are respected and nobody reveals our secrets. And do many other things, but those are the most important ones.”

You nod, wondering if these responsibilities aren’t too much of a burden for him. It mustn’t be easy to be the one making decisions, and it definitely sounds like the entire werewolf world relies on him.

“And you?” he asks. “What do you do?”

A bright smile appears on your face. “I’m an Elementary teacher.”

Thinking about the little kids you see every day simply makes you happy. Being able to give those little humans the tools they need to grow in this world is one of the most fulfilling things. This job has been healing your inner child because teaching those young children has allowed you to guide and give them a stability you never had in your childhood.

“Oh, nice,” he says.

The yogurt is now over so you suggest going to the living room. This way, you’ll be sitting comfortably on the couch while discussing the hot topic. Werewolves.

Last night, while in bed, you were mentally going through all the questions you might have for him. There is so much for you to know about this new world, this new heritage. For sure, last night, you didn’t know he was a king, but now that you do, you believe that he might help you a lot more than expected.  

Jungkook sits down next to you, and you decide to face each other.

“So,” you start saying. “I guess you can imagine why I invited you.”

The man sitting next to you nods. “Your wolf blood.”

“Indeed,” you nod as you speak. “I have a lot of questions.”

You don’t even know where to start.

“You said there are packs,” you begin. “Would you know to which pack I belong?”

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “The Shadow pack,” he pauses for a couple of seconds. “Each pack has a wolf eye color. Mine is red as you’ve already seen, which indicates that I’m the king and member of The Blood pack. The Shadow’s eye color is blue, and for the third and last pack, The Lunar, it’s white,” he explains. “A week ago, I saw your eyes turning blue, that’s how I discovered it.”

The Shadow, The Blood, and The Lunar. Three packs. You mentally register the information he gives you. There is so much to discover about this new reality.

“The Shadows also have unique abilities, one of them being the fact that they can blur into their surroundings.”

That’s what happened to you two days ago after he revealed your true nature. It was just the confirmation of who you are.

“As far as I can remember, I’ve only had heightened senses, but I never came to shift into a wolf. How is that possible?”

“That is something I ignore,” he admits. “You’re the first werewolf who didn’t grow up with her pack’s member. My first guess is the ignorance of your nature prevented it from fully revealing itself.”

You look down at your feet on the couch. It seems so weird that only a part of your abilities has revealed itself throughout your life.

“I’ve tried to find something about you, but I couldn’t,” he admits. “I even reached out to an Alpha of the pack, but nothing.”

“Oh,” you simply say, your eyes meeting his. “Do you think I could meet that Alpha?”

“Yes,” he smiles at you. “I’m sure he’d be happy to meet you, and he might probably help you more than me with your past and even your abilities.”

Jungkook then proceeds to explain how the werewolf world works. There is a hierarchy. Alpha, Beta, Delta, and Omega. Alpha being the highest rank, and you only achieve it once you fully master your powers. Logically, you’re an Omega as you barely know what you can do. Jungkook is an Alpha which makes sense since he’s a king.

If you keep the baby, they will automatically become an Alpha when they become king or queen. Things work a bit differently for the royal family.

Normally, a werewolf experiences their first shift on the first full moon of their fourteenth anniversary. The difference with the royal family is the fact that they experience that at ten years old. It’s quite early in life, but that allows them to master their abilities a lot earlier than any other werewolf.

Obviously, the parents and the family remain by your side throughout your first full moon. They guide you through the pain when transforming, and they stay with you while you’re a wolf. Jungkook tells you that the first transformation is very hard to handle. The pain is unbearable and once you’re a wolf, all your human senses disappear. You’re just a beast. A hunting beast. Having your family by your side prevents you from killing anyone or anything. Slowly and with a lot of work, you are able to control that primal urge.

The question left hanging is when and if you’ll transform. If this pregnancy brings out your wolf blood, there are higher chances that you’ll experience your first full moon. But Jungkook doesn’t have an answer to give.  

Then, he informs you that you can’t transform someone by biting them, that’s an absolute myth. Being a werewolf is genetic. You inherit it from your parents, and you’ll give that gene to your children. Thus, the importance of maintaining pure blood.    

 “For now, I guess that’s all,” you tell him once you’ve asked all the questions.

“Since the next full moon is in two days, I’d like to be with you in case you transform,” he says.

Well, you don’t have much of a choice. There’s this unknown about you, and you wouldn’t like to be alone during your first full moon, especially if it’s painful and bestial.

“Thanks,” you mumble while looking down.

Jungkook offers you a little smile.

“I’m by your side now, yn,” he places his fingers under your chin to slowly lift your head. “I won’t let you navigate this alone.”

His eyes shine with sincerity. You’re thankful that, in the middle of this chaos, you found Jungkook. This man brings so much comfort and seems to have one of the prettiest hearts you have encountered.

“And I’ll support you no matter what you decide with the baby,” he adds.

You remain in silence for a moment, your eyes scanning his soft face. You’ve never seen him this close. You’ve never noticed that little mole under his lips, or the little scar on his cheek, or how perfectly round his nose is. He looks even prettier this closely.  

The decision about your child has already been made, but you haven’t said it out loud yet. Jungkook will be the first one to know, and it makes sense since he’s the father.

“I’m going to keep the baby,” you reveal.  

[tzyunaes]

HOLD ME , CONSOLE ME ⟡ CLINGY S/O

𝖲𝖴𝖢𝖢I𝖭𝖢𝖳 ‎ ✷ ‎  𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄.

[ 형선 ] 𓈒𓈒 bf!엔하이픈 ˖ 𝑓em!r g. fluff established relationship ──── EPHEMER𝒾S ( 74O ) cw. skinship && kissing.

jennifer says .. really mid and only hyung line cause i kinda ran out of ideas ://

LEE HEESEUNG──────the sun shone in its innate manner, basking a tranquil atmosphere. your head resting on your dear lover’s chest like it wasn't an annoying monday morning instead of a pleasant lazy sunday morning with your boyfriend.

he chuckled slightly when he saw you groaning by the realization and pulled you close, his arms curled around your waist, his eyes as observant as ever, “is my baby pouting?” he teased, not to mention how it only made your pout grow bigger.

“no. can you not go to work today please can you just stay here with me”, you murmured under your breath, drawing circles on his chest subconsciously and that's when he catches himself smiling faintly like a fool in love.

“you want me to stay here with you, doll? how about i give you two hundred and twenty two kisses and get out early from work tonight?” he whispered, already planting kisses all-over your face.

maybe to the point where he will achieve kissing your pouts away and exchanging into giggles.

PARK JONGSEONG──────you stare at your boyfriend from the couch as he got ready for office with a subtle pout on your face. he looked behind to face you as he fixed his tie for the last time, holding back the faint smile cause he didn't even need you to say it out aloud and already could tell what you were up to.

walking close to you, he cups your face with adoration in his eyes, “what, princess? don't want me to go to work?” he states rather than asking, noticing the frown on your face.

“no...why would i—” he cuts you off midway by leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “you know i would oblige if you just said the word, doll. anything it takes to wipe that pout off your pretty face.”

you looked away from him, a pink ray visible on your cheeks, “stop you're too cheesy.” you retort, sighing when you realized that he was being serious.

“you don't have to skip, baby. just bring me boba and—” “cuddles. and as many kisses as you want, baby.”

SIM JAEYUN──────your sigh fell warm on jake’s chest, he patted your hair in a tender and devoted manner when you nuzzled closer to him. he loved it when you were more affectionate than usual cause it gave him chances to express more of his clingy side. who could blame him, you were too adorable.

“why do you need to go to work...” you mumbled under your breath and he smiled, “i know right. that's exactly what im saying like fuck you mean i have to leave for work instead of cuddling my pretty wifey all day!” he murmured, his body pressed against yours. you giggled, his arms around your waist grew tighter.

“stop—” your words are interrupted by him planting dozens of kisses over your face. trailing down to your throat, he buried his face on the crook of your neck.

“okay i made my decision. i’m not going anywhere today,” he muttered between kisses and the seriousness in his voice would never let you second that.

PARK SUNGHOON──────sunghoon stared at you as you climbed on his lap facing him with amusement prepped on his face but his arms reached out to be wrapped around your waist. you stared at his eyes for a moment as if it was a staring competition before leaning in and prepping a peck on his cheeks.

a chuckle left his mouth when he finally understood what you were trying to do and pulled you closer for another kiss.

“trying to distract me from the fact that i have to go soon, baby? you know you don't have to try, right? i get distracted by you even when you're breathing, princess,” he says as he leaves a trail of kisses down your neck, your cheeks soon turned into a shade of pink by his teasing.

“that's not true, hoon. you're so wrong.” he just chuckled without another word and continued leaving kisses, although he was ready to leave for work.

with the last peck on your forehead, he got up, not forgetting to whisper, “don’t worry, angel, i'm gonna get out early for you.”

[gpcwsl]

would love an enemies to lovers with leah!!

Warnings: suggestive (if you squint), kissing.

Leah Williamson x Reader

- Under the same sky -

MasterList

The animosity between you and Leah Williamson was palpable from the moment you signed for Arsenal. As one of the top midfielders in the league, you came in with a stellar reputation, but Leah didn’t seem to care. The captain’s icy reception caught you off guard, especially since you had idolized her for years. She was the epitome of leadership and grace—at least on the outside.

On the pitch, you two clashed constantly. If you pressed too high, she’d snap at you to drop back. If she misplaced a pass, she’d glare at you as if it were your fault. Training sessions felt like a battlefield, and the tension between you was undeniable.

“Are you two ever going to get along?” Katie McCabe joked one afternoon after another heated exchange during a practice match.

“Doubt it,” Leah muttered under her breath, her sharp tone cutting through you like a knife.

The worst part was, no matter how much she irritated you, you couldn’t deny the magnetic pull she had. Leah was effortlessly stunning, her sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes only adding to her intimidating presence. But every time you thought about how beautiful she was, you’d quickly remind yourself of how insufferable she could be.

The rivalry between you and Leah escalated during a crucial league game. A miscommunication in the backline—one you both were partially responsible for—led to the opposition scoring.

“What the hell was that?” Leah shouted, storming toward you as the ball hit the net.

“Maybe if you actually listened instead of trying to control everything, that wouldn’t have happened!” you snapped back, chest heaving.

The referee intervened before it could escalate further, but the damage was done. Fans, teammates, and even the media started noticing the friction.

Post-match, Jonas Eidevall called both of you into his office. “This stops now,” he said sternly. “Whatever’s going on between you two, sort it out. I don’t care how. The team comes first.”

Forced to spend extra time together in team-building exercises, you and Leah were paired up for a drill designed to improve communication. At first, it was awkward—stilted conversations and passive-aggressive comments—but gradually, something shifted.

“You know,” Leah said one afternoon as you worked on passing drills, “you’re not half bad when you’re not trying to get on my nerves.”

You smirked. “Funny, I was about to say the same about you.”

The banter became less hostile, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of the Leah you’d admired from afar. She was witty, fiercely intelligent, and, when she wasn’t scowling at you, surprisingly kind.

One evening after training, you found yourselves the last two in the locker room. The conversation turned personal, and Leah opened up about the pressure of being captain, about the expectations and the weight of responsibility.

“You make it look easy,” you admitted.

She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “It’s anything but.”

There was a vulnerability in her eyes that made your heart ache. Without thinking, you reached out, your hand brushing hers. The contact was brief, but it lingered in the air between you, unspoken but undeniable.

The first time Leah kissed you, it was an accident—or at least, that’s what you told yourselves.

It was after a particularly heated training match. You’d scored the winning goal, and Leah had begrudgingly come over to congratulate you. The adrenaline was still pumping, your bodies mere inches apart as you exchanged barbs laced with amusement.

And then it happened.

Her lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, as if testing the waters. But when you didn’t pull away, she deepened the kiss, her hands finding your waist. It was fiery and desperate, a culmination of months of tension and unspoken desire.

When she finally pulled back, her breath was ragged. “We probably shouldn’t have done that,” she murmured, but the way her thumb grazed your cheek told a different story.

“Probably not,” you whispered, though you were already leaning in for another taste.

What followed was a whirlwind of stolen moments—kisses shared in the shadows of the locker room, lingering touches on the bus ride to away games, whispered conversations late at night.

It wasn’t easy. You still bickered on the pitch, but now there was a playful edge to your arguments. Your teammates noticed the change, though no one dared to comment outright.

One evening, after a particularly grueling match, Leah showed up at your apartment. You were exhausted, but the sight of her standing in your doorway, a bottle of wine in hand, made your heart skip a beat.

“I thought we could celebrate,” she said, a rare smile gracing her lips.

The night blurred into soft laughter and stolen kisses. By the time the bottle was empty, you found yourselves tangled together on your couch, her lips trailing down your neck as your fingers threaded through her hair.

“Stay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Leah paused, her eyes searching yours. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, pulling her closer. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Keeping your relationship a secret proved increasingly difficult. The team’s sharpest players—Katie, Viv, and Beth—figured it out first.

“You two are terrible at hiding it, you know,” Katie teased after catching you and Leah exchanging a lingering glance during training.

Eventually, the entire team knew, and to your surprise, they were nothing but supportive. Jonas even pulled you aside one day to assure you that as long as it didn’t affect your performance, he had no issues.

But the media was another story. When photos of you and Leah sharing a kiss after a hard-fought win surfaced online, the headlines exploded.

Leah handled the scrutiny with her usual grace, releasing a statement that was equal parts defiant and heartfelt:

“Love isn’t a distraction; it’s a strength. I’m proud to have someone by my side who challenges me, supports me, and makes me better—on and off the pitch.”

The backlash was minimal, and soon the focus shifted back to football, where it belonged.

One night, months into your relationship, you and Leah lay on the grass in her backyard, staring up at the stars.

“It’s funny,” Leah said, her voice soft. “I used to think you were the most infuriating person I’d ever met.”

You laughed, turning to face her. “And now?”

“Now you’re still infuriating,” she teased, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “But I wouldn’t change a thing.”

You smiled, your hand finding hers. “I wouldn’t either.”

Under the same sky, with the stars as your witnesses, you knew you’d found something worth fighting for.

[little-jana]

"A Little Bit of Mischief" (1)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x receptionist!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: playful teasing, flirting

Words: 1.4k

Summary: You flirt with the ever-serious Aaron Hotchner, teasing him until he finally drops his professional demeanor.

You're in a good mood, as usual. It's a Wednesday afternoon, the sun is shining through the office windows, and there's something about the quiet hum of the BAU that feels comforting. Even though you’ve just finished up a case, there’s always work to be done—papers to file, appointments to set up, that kind of thing. But you don’t mind. You love staying busy, and you love the people you work with.

But more than anything, you love teasing Aaron Hotchner.

It’s not that you go out of your way to make him uncomfortable. Well, maybe a little. He’s just so serious all the time, and you can’t help yourself. It’s like a game to you—seeing how far you can push him before he cracks. And honestly, he’s always so professional, so controlled, that you never expect him to respond in any way other than with the quiet politeness he reserves for everyone.

At least, that’s what you think.

“Hotch, do you need me to book you a meeting with the director?” you ask, leaning on his desk with a sweet smile plastered across your face. You know your voice comes out bubbly—it always does when you’re around him—but you don’t mind. You have a tendency to be a little more playful when he’s near.

He glances up from his paperwork, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he looks you over. He always does that, and it makes your stomach do a little flip. It’s as if he’s trying to figure you out, analyzing you the same way he does with cases. It’s both flattering and endearing, and it makes your heart beat a little faster.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” he replies, but his voice is a little more distant than usual. It’s his way of staying professional, but you notice how his lips twitch—just barely, as if he’s holding back a smile.

“So,” you start again, leaning closer to his desk just a little, “I was thinking we could go grab coffee after work. You know, just the two of us. I promise not to steal your files this time.”

His eyes flick up at you again, a brief glimmer of something unreadable in them before he returns to his work. He doesn’t seem to be taking you seriously, as usual. But you’re not giving up that easily.

“You know, I don’t understand why you’re always so serious,” you continue, your voice soft and teasing as you try to get him to react. “You’re like... a walking, talking textbook of boring.”

The words slip out before you can stop yourself, but you’re not worried. You’ve said worse to him before. And every time, he’s given you that same exasperated but slightly amused look—like he’s trying to act unaffected, but the small twitch of his lips always gives him away.

His expression softens, though, and you see him letting his guard down just a little. “I’m serious about the job,” he says with a small smirk. But you can tell he’s holding back the full force of his smile.

“Well, you’re lucky I don’t mind serious men,” you say, leaning in a little closer, your voice softer. “You’re still pretty cute, even if you’re all about ‘business’ all the time.”

You see the immediate flash of something in his eyes then, something like surprise mixed with hesitation. You almost think he’s going to respond with a typical Hotch answer—something neutral, something that would keep you firmly in the “professional” zone. But instead, he looks at you for a long moment, his gaze searching your face as if trying to decipher your intentions.

“How’s your day been?” he asks suddenly, his voice quieter than usual, as though the question itself signals a subtle shift in the conversation.

You smile brightly. “Oh, you know, the usual. I’ve been keeping myself busy with all the paperwork—making sure you don’t get buried under it all.” You shrug, glancing down at your own stack of work. “But it’s been fun. I like helping out. Plus, I get to see all of you guys every day.”

Hotch’s gaze softens again, and for the first time, there’s a touch of warmth in his eyes that you’re not used to. “I appreciate it,” he says quietly. “You’re a big help around here.”

His words aren’t anything extraordinary, but they make your heart flutter in a way you didn’t expect. You hadn’t thought he’d notice how much you enjoyed being around, how much you appreciated the little things he did, like staying late to make sure everything was wrapped up, or the way he always double-checks the details.

“You know, you’re not so bad yourself,” you tease, the flirtatious energy flowing through your words without meaning to. “You should let me take you out for dinner sometime, Hotch. I think you could use a break from all the work.”

You’re not expecting him to say yes. After all, Hotch isn’t the kind of guy who jumps into social outings easily. But you can’t help yourself; you have to ask.

He glances at you again, his gaze softening even further, and this time, his lips do curl into a faint smile. It’s not much, but it’s enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“Maybe,” he says, and you almost think you see a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

That’s enough for you. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen that kind of warmth from him, the first time he didn’t immediately deflect your teasing.

“You’re adorable when you smile like that,” you say before you can stop yourself, your voice softer, more sincere than you intended. The words are out before you can take them back, and your face immediately flushes with embarrassment.

But instead of retreating, Hotch’s gaze softens even more, and he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just sits there, watching you. And it’s in that moment that you realize—you’ve been teasing him for so long, but maybe there’s more there than you thought. Maybe, just maybe, he likes you too.

“Maybe dinner would be a good idea,” he says quietly, his voice almost a whisper now.

You beam, your heart racing. “I’ll hold you to that,” you reply, and this time, your flirtation is more playful than anything. “But don’t make me wait too long, okay?”

He chuckles softly, the sound warm and genuine. And for once, you realize that maybe this game you’ve been playing isn’t just a game. Maybe there’s something more to it after all.

[miniwheat77]

Loser. (Soap x Virgin!Reader.)

!NSFW, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, innocent reader, NO MINORS!

Unedited*

“You’d hit that? Even with how innocent Y/N is?”

“Ugh. Until her fuckin’ legs shake mate.” Soap laughs. Gaz rolls his eyes, laughing too. “You’re sick.”

“Nah, I think it’s an act.” Soap smirks. “No twenty-something year old is that naive.”

He doesn’t realize you’re listening on the other side of the door. They’d chose to have this conversation right outside the office you usually worked in. It was late and they didn’t figure you were still inside.

———

Later that night, you’re in the watch tower alone. It’s dark out, it’s pretty late. Soap is supposed to be up here with you, but you’re early. You’re curious about what he had said. What he meant by it anyways. Hit that? Until your legs shake? What does that even mean? You wanted to ask but also knew how wrong it had been of you to eavesdrop in the first place.

Soap walks through the door and startles you out of your daydream and you act as if you hadn’t heard his entire conversation earlier with Gaz. “Hey little lady.” He smiles. “Hi Johnny.” You smile back at him. Looking away quickly. He can tell that you’re acting off. “Everything alright?” He asks. “Uh.. yeah.” You mumble. He can tell you’re off. You knew that you should have listened to the others on base and stayed away from him. Sarah and Layla had told you on more than one occasion to stay away from him but had never actually explained why. You knew that the two could be a little overdramatic at times.

“I have a question actually.” Soap says, sliding a chair up to sit next to you. “Why do you wear your hair like that?” He asks.

“L-like what?” You brush it down. He makes you nervous, you aren't sure why.

“It’s always done up real nice. Sometimes you even got cute clips in it and stuff.” He toys with the ends that hang by your face, seeing the way your cheeks redden by his touch alone. You look down with a laugh. “Uh.. I’m not sure. I guess it’s just something I picked up on from my mo-“ you pause, shaking your head.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks. “Uh.. it’s just… I guess I just don’t like to talk about my parents.” You mumble. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But I’ll listen anytime you’d like.” He smiles, resting a hand on your knee. It doesn’t seem like it, but Johnny is being genuine. The other girls' words are always echoing around in your head. Johnny seemed nice and you needed to ignore what they said sometimes.

“They uh… they were very religious. So far beyond the normal extent that it was like a cult.” You look up at him. “No offense but is that kind’ve why you’re a little…”

“Sheltered?” You smile. “Well I wasn’t gonna say it.” He laughs.

“Yes it is. They didn’t let me have exposure to stuff like TV or books. Homeschooled all my life, expected to be well kempt and tidy. I guess some things just stuck. My room is spotless and my hair is always fixed.” You shrug. He smiles. “I like it though. Wouldn’t be you if it wasn’t I suppose.” He laughs.

“So. I know I shouldn’t have been listening, but I heard you talking to Gaz earlier.”

Soaps cheeks nearly light on fire.

“Uhhh. You weren’t supposed to hear it.” He laughs. “I’m sorry.”

“Well if you’re saying sorry it means it wasn’t good, what you were saying. I don’t know what that means.”

He furrows his brows in confusion. “Do uh… you not know what Sex is?”

Your eyes widen. “What? Y-yeah I know what it is. What does that have to do with this?” He sees the way you start to backtrack. How nervous you get talking about it. “I’d hit that” he laughs, repeating himself. In disbelief you have no idea what he meant when he said it. He looks down at the ground away from you. “It’s… a slang term. For sex.” He laughs. You look confused. “You’ve never heard it?” He asks. “No. I know what sex is but I’ve not mapped out the slang terms I guess. So what you were saying.” You swallow hard. Eyes finally moving up to meet his. You're starting to realize what he had meant. “You…” You’re very hesitant. “I would have sex with you, that’s what I meant.” He laughs. You try to play it off with a small laugh but he can see that you’re different now. “I’ve.. I’ve never um…” you rest your hand on the back of your chair. “I know. I can tell.”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. "I honestly thought that this was some kind of act you were putting up. Until you mentioned your parents. I feel like a dick now. I shouldn't have said what I said and I want you to know that what I was saying was really disrespectful of me. I shouldn't have been saying anything like that." He looks down at his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.

"What?" You ask. "I thought that wanting to have sex with someone is like a compliment or something." You mumble. "It is. Well. Kind of." He shakes his head with a laugh. "Look. It's awkward but I'll teach you all of the stupid slang terms alright? It doesn't make sense, you're supposed to grow up hearing this stuff and learn what it means along the way alright?" He laughs. You nod your head. "Okay. Yeah. Got it. " You blush. "Thank you Johnny." You mumble. "Course.” He laughs.

“You said something else too uh… until my legs shake? What does that mean?” Johnny’s face is on fire, embarrassed and blushing. How is he supposed to explain this away?

He sighs. “Well. This is what I get for being gross ah?” He laughs. “Sometimes during sex if it’s.. rough enough or good enough, your legs will shake. I guess. It’s more complex than that. You know.. Um... I'm gonna write down a website and I want you to look it up. Don't be scared alright? And don't watch it with anyone else around, it's bad."

"If it's bad why are you telling me to watch it?" You ask. "Because... It's about sex and you know how apprehensive you are about it. Everyone else is too. This website it's for adults only, watch it alone. You'll understand. If you see something you want to know about you can ask me or research it on like... an incognito browser on your phone. I'll show you how to do that too." He mumbles. He picks up a piece of printer paper and looks around until he finds a pen. He writes down the very familiar website and than shows you on your phone how to get to an incognito browser. Reminding you to never watch it with people around.

You have an idea of what he's telling you to look up.

Later that night when you’re off watch, you’re making sure your earbuds are connected to your phone before you look up the website he’s telling you about, the front page is intimidating enough before you even click on a video.

Hours later you’re still awake. The amount of terms you’ve learned about, the videos you’ve seen.

You feel corrupted.

Urban Dictionary and a Porn website have turned your entire life around. No wonder your parents kept you sheltered.

You finally fall asleep just a couple hours before you’re supposed to be awake. A new ache between your legs and you’re unsure how to fix it or make it feel better. The next day, you’re exhausted but everything you had learned the night before changed your perspective on everything. The conversations you had overheard from the men on base suddenly made so much sense. Why Layla and Sarah had told you to stay far away from Johnny made so much sense now.

“Uh.. Earth to Y/N. You alright?” Ghost waves his hand in your face and you jerk back away from him, swallowing hard. “Uh.. yeah. Sorry. Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Something keeping you awake love?” Ghost places his hand on your knee and Johnny watches across from the table as you go completely stiff, looking down at his hand. “Yeah.” You say it, “wait no. No I mean no. Sorry.” You shake your head, standing up fast. “Just slept in too late yesterday. I’ve got to go get some paperwork done.” You mumble. “See you guys around.” You wave, hurrying out of the mess hall and into your office. “What was that about?” Ghost laughs. "I think she's just stressed." Johnny laughs. He was getting a little nervous by your reaction. Maybe he had given you too much all at once.

———

You were desperate. You didn't care anymore. It had been almost two weeks since Johnny had showed you the website. He'd answered any questions you had, didn't matter how awkward.

You had so much pent up arousal. You were horny from days and days of watching nothing but videos. You wanted anything. You hurried up the watch tower stairs, heart thudding in your chest. You step inside, nerves growing as you such in a sharp breath. “Hey, everything okay?” He asks.

You swallow hard. “Yeah…”

“No not really.” You mumble. You take your seat like usual and face away from Johnny for a second. You don’t know how to ask him for help, you feel shameful. “What’s goin on? I do somn?” He asks. “Yeah. Yeah you did. You showed me what porn is and now I feel weird all of the time.” You huff. He laughs. “You don’t feel weird. You’re just horny.” You sigh. Tilting your head back and closing your eyes. “Yeah well. It sucks!” You groan. You feel tears pricking your eyes from your frustration. “What, touching yourself isn’t enough?” He laughs. “Touching myself?”

The thought of you doing that sounds foreign. “Oh dear… don’t tell me you’ve been watching 2 weeks worth of porn and haven’t made yourself cum.” He laughs. You stay quiet. “Poor girl, no wonder you’re so frustrated.” He laughs. You stand up, pacing back and forth slow. You’re trying to think to yourself. “I don’t really know how, no really. I’ve seen videos but they’re usually not helpful in the slightest.” Johnny glides his tongue over his bottom lip. Seeing you so frustrated has him a little riled up himself. “I.. not sure how much trust me.” He laughs.

You turn to look at him. Your pupils are blown wide.

“I could show you… if you wa-“

You nod your head before he even finishes his sentence. He leans forward in his chair, motioning you to come forward with his fingers. Your stomach fills with butterflies.

“Just uh.. take a deep breath, alright?” You nod your head. You’re still standing a ways away from him. He reaches out, pulling you forward by the back of your thigh, until you’re right directly in front of him. He looks up at you. “S’alright lass. Nothing to be nervous about.” He mumbles. You’ve sat next to Johnny sure, but this is different. You’re closer to him than you ever have been. He smells like cologne and hair pomade. You close your eyes as you he reaches for your cargo pants. You don’t make any movements to stop him. He continues. He unbuttons them, slow. He doesn’t want to startle you or move too fast. He wants to give you ample time to stop him. You have a choice, he wants to make that known. He tugs them down slightly, you close your eyes tight. Biting your lip. What you were about to trust him with was a lot. Further than you’ve ever gone with anyone else.

He grasps the waistband of your panties, pushing them down just far enough he could get a hand between them and your skin. He glides his hand between them.

Johnny glides the side of his pointer finger across your slit. Collecting your arousal on his finger. When he draws it away he can see just how wet you are. It drives him fucking crazy.

He parts his fingers, seeing strings of your arousal across them. His cock is rock hard in seconds, by far the most turned on he’s ever been in his life. He lets out a laugh. Shaking his head. “My god you are wet.” he shakes his head, biting his lip. He growls under his breath. He wants to devour you. Fuck you until your legs really shake, until you’re crying out for more. “You been watching more videos, Bonnie?” He asks. You nod your head. “See you’ve found one you like” he chuckles. You chew at your lip nervously. “Johnny..” you whine. “Hm?”

“I want to know what it feels like to cum..” you look down at him. “Please show me.” You whine.

“I’ll show you, doll. Just relax into me okay?” He breathes. “Cmere, why don’t you sit in my lap.” He pulls you forward. You spin around, sitting down on him. You can feel his erection pressing into you. He pushes your cargo pants and panties down further, until one of your legs is completely free. “Prop your leg up on me, don’t be shy.” He sighs. His warm breath is right against your ear. He pushes your hair behind your ear, he wants you to hear him. He’s going to talk you through it.

“Just watch my hand. Do as I say. I’ll show you how lass.” He breathes. You nod your head. Your face is hot, in such a daze you barely even know what’s going on around you. “I’m so horny Johnny.. I can’t take it.” You cry. Tears filling your eyes. “Just watch darling..” he trails his hand across your bare stomach, he’d pulled your shirt up. Pushing down, until his huge hand glides over your mound. Stopping just right at the top. He circles over your clit with two of his fingers, feeling you jump against him. “It’s going to be really sensitive. Since you’ve never touched here before, alright?” You nod your head. You’re panting. “It’s your clit. You try.” He moved his hand lower, drawing circles around your opening as you start to rub your clit. You’re getting more comfortable, relaxing into him. “That’s it. Just keep doing that for me, yeah.” He breathes. He raises his hand to his mouth. Using his saliva to wet down his fingers enough. Circling his spit over your hole. He’s prepping you.

“Deep breath.” He mumbles. You nod your head.

He doesn’t have to stretch you too much. He pushes his finger in, feeling you tense up. “Oh god.” You pant. Wiggling your hips lower into him. You pause your movement, whining out. “Keep rubbing your clit baby. I didn’t say to stop.” He breathes. His voice is low and sexy. He’s turned on. A side of Johnny you hadn’t seen.

He pairs another finger up, pushing it back into you. You gasp, clutching his wrist with your free hand. “There you go darling.” Your breaths get a little more rigid. Nearly panting out as he fingers you. “Keep going darling. Gentle, not too fast now.” He guides you.

“I- oh god!” You cry. “There you go baby. That’s it… give it to me.” He whines, raising his hips into you. You can tell he wants relief of his own.

You grasp his hand, forcing him away. “Woah- hey. Everything okay?” He asks. You stand on one leg. Turning so that you could straddle his lap. Sitting down on him again. “F-fuck..” he grits his teeth. “What’re you doing?”

“I want to know what it’s like.” You look him in the eyes. “Y/N.” He warns. He knows what it is you want.

“Johnny.” You repeat his name back. “Your virginity is really important. I think you’re just really turned on. Not thinking straig-“ he clenches his eyes shut as you rut your hips into his. He swallows hard. “You can’t take it back. Once you do it with me, I’ll always be your first.” He breathes. “I think you should really think about it.” He swallows hard. “I think I’ve got my mind made up, MacTavish.” You sigh, hands clutching at the collar of his shirt. You lean into him, lips brushing over his. You kiss him, hard. He can feel your heart thumping in your chest.

Johnny is in shock. Because this isn’t just another hook up and you’re not just another girl.

You’re Y/N. The girl who is supposed to be so far out of his reach, out of his league even. You’re not someone Johnny ever expected to be sitting in his lap, wanting more than just a kiss even. Wanting to…

He has to draw himself out of his trance. You want your first to be him. And Johnny up until this point is recognized as a scumbag. Everyone knows it. He’s desperate for any kind of attention he’ll get. He knows that this is how people feel about him. Maybe they don’t know him, don’t know that he wants to be loved. He wants it all, using any way he can to get it, even if it does make him look like an asshole.

Not anymore. Johnny wants your attention. Yours and yours only, he knows it.

“Okay.. look at me.” He pushes back. “If you want me to do this, we’re gonna do it right.” You nod your head. “We’ll go slow. I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to know that this is how you should be treated. Always. Okay?” You nod your head.

He unbuckles his belt, pushing his jeans down his thighs just enough. You swallow hard at the size of him, not sure what you were expecting. “Are you sure?” You nod your head. Looking at him. You prop yourself up and he helps you. Spitting in his hand and gliding it up his cock. If he had lube he’d use it. Knowing how bad this is about to hurt you. Once he’s got himself lined up with your entrance, you’re eager. Pushing yourself down onto him. He tries to force you to be gentle. You’re in a hurry. Desperate to have him inside of you.

Once you get to that point, where you start to stretch, you slow. Biting your lip. He can tell it’s starting to hurt.

“It’s okay- it’s alright lass. Deep breath for me.” Soaps face crunches up in pleasure, trying his best to conceal it because he doesn’t want to enjoy this when you’re not.

“Oh fuck…” he pants. His voice is so unsteady you can’t help but smile. “Are you okay Johnny?”

“Y-yeah. You just feel so fucking good.” He smiles, eyes closing. “Just a little more, you’re doing so good for me.” He pants. You hiss, and he hesitates. Drawing his hips back into the chair and raising you up slightly. He gathers more arousal at the tip of his cock. Spearing you further onto him. It’s easier to slide like this.

“I’m going to push all of the way alright? Deep breath.” He lowers you completely, burying his head into the crook of your neck. He takes in a sharp breath, standing up with you. It’s not the best place for it, but not the worst. He lays you right on the ground. It’s clean, you’d just cleaned it the night before.

The feeling of all of his body weight on you is intimidating. Something you’ve never felt before. He takes one deep thrust and you’re gasping out, a cry leaving your lips as he penetrates to the deepest parts of you. Just like that, it’s over.

You have your eyes screwed shut and he gives you a couple minutes to adjust before he starts fucking you. He’s slow, trying to ease the pain.

And it works. Your eyes soften as they slowly open, lips going from locked shut to parted. Your hands had a tight hold on his shirt and they’re staring to relax. You were dead quiet, but as he moves you start to pant.

You’re starting to like it.

Soap sighs, thank god.

He keeps a steady pace until he knows you can take more and then he’s rocking his hips into you deeper. “Oh god Johnny.” You mewl, opening your legs wider for him. Giving him complete access to you. His eyes widen.

Johnny has been with his fair share of women, each different from the last. You’re by far the most gentle, skin soft against his. Your clutches are even soft when you run your hands through his mow hawk and grip it. Your body is like a clouded temple and the fact that he’s been allowed inside is something Johnny is going to cherish, he’s never letting this go. He’s made up his mind.

He starts driving himself into you at a brutal pace. You’re trying your best to stay quiet but it’s hard. “Ah, Johnny. S’a lot.” You breathe. “Deep breathes, I said I’d make your legs shake and I intend on it darling.” He chuckles. You can’t help but blush.

He expected it to be easier, but you’re taking a lot. “Johnny I- I’m gonna cum!” You whine. Your legs start to shiver just slightly and he smiles. “Go on doll, show me how good I make you feel. Cum for me.” You screw your eyes shut, focusing on the knot building and how his cock stimulates the perfect place to make it unwind. He’s getting overwhelmed. This is the first time you’ll ever cum. Not just that. The first time you’ll ever cum, and it’s around his cock. Not from your fingers, or even his. Not a pillow you’re desperately rutting into. Around Johnny’s dick.

He lowers his hand, pressing his fingertips into your clit and your mouth parts in shock, how good he feels is unmatched. A cry barely leaves your lips and he covers your mouth with his hand. Fucking you into your high. When you hit it, your legs shake.

Just like in the videos.

You’re on the verge of crying when Johnny hits his high. He’s panting and whining and it’s almost pathetic as he reaches it. He doesn’t think to pull out.

———

“Y/N. He’s just using you. He wants to fuck you and then dump you. That’s who he is. He’s a loser.” Layla rolls her eyes.

Her words cut through you like a knife. “I.. why are you saying that?”

“Because it’s what guys like him do Y/N. He doesn’t want anything serious. He’d have a girlfriend if that were the case. I bet his body count would cripple you because he’s just a gross loser. He wants sex and no offense, but you’re naive and he knows if he shows up and shows out you’ll be dumb enough to give it to him. No offense.” She waves her hand. “I’m not trying to be a bitch but it’s true. I’m not saying to listen to me, I’m just warning you before you catch feelings and get your heart broken. You heard how he used to talk about you.”

You nod your head. “Thank you.” You mumble, turning away from her. The tears are hot as they spill over your eyelids the moment she can’t see your face anymore. You hurry away.

She was going to go find Johnny.

“I know you’re trying to get your claws into Y/N, but you need to stay away from her.”

She catches Johnny off guard, he’d just gotten off of watch with you. “What are you talking about?” He hurries to cover up the love bites he's got on his neck from you.

“I’m talking about how you’ve been spending so much time with her. I know you. You’re nothing but a loser looking for someone who will put out for you. That’s not her. So leave her alone.” He shakes his head. “You’ve got it wrong.”

“Do I? Because everyone here has heard the way you talk about her and other women.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t have anything to prove to you okay? I’m friends with Y/N and I care a lot about her whether you believe it or not." He's getting angry. "Whatever. I guess since she's so stupid and naïve we'll find out when you get her to fuck you." The words are laced with venom.

His face goes stone cold and he pauses, standing straight up and taking a step toward her. He's sharp with her.

"She's not stupid. Say whatever you want about me. Call me a loser, fine. But if you say that to me again we will have a much bigger problem on our hands." He's stern and his voice is quiet. "She's smart and she's had it rough. She's learning everything day by day. Naïve yes. Stupid? Absolutely not. Now back off." He growls. She is a little intimidated but she plays it off with a huff and leaves. His reaction to her calling you stupid had taken her completely off guard.

Maybe he really did have feelings for you.

———

"You know, one way to really find out if he likes her is to hit on him and see if he takes the bait." She shrugs. "Yeah, but I don't want to hurt Y/N by doing that." She sighs. "Layla, she'll get hurt even worse if she gives her V card up to that loser and he treats her like shit after." Her eyes are wide as she looks at her.

"I know Sarah. I guess you're right. Let's give it a go. But I already pissed him off so it's got to be you." She looks up from her tray of food. "Gross. Whatever." She scoffs.

The two wait until that night. Soap gets to the watch tower first and she takes the opportunity, heading up the stairs. Layla stays at the bottom of the stairs just in case.

She wants to stop you at the bottom and give Sarah enough time to do what she needs to do.

"Uh.. something wrong?" You ask. You startle her, she hadn't been paying attention. "Shit! You scared me. No- no nothing is wrong. I just really needed to ask you a question and it couldn't wait." Her response is fast and it has you narrowing your eyes. "What is it?"

"It's... uhh." She pauses, trying to come up with something on the fly. "Look.. about you and Soap..."

"Jesus Layla, I've already starting retracting from him, I really just want this all behind us." You groan, pushing passed her. "Wait!" She grasps your hand. "What is going on? Why are you stalling to keep me down here?" You tear your arm out of her grasp and move further up the stairs but she's hot on your tail. "She's testing him!"

You pause right outside the door. "What?"

"She's going to hit on him to see if he'd cave. Y/N we don't want you to get hurt by him.” She says. "Jesus Christ." You reach for the handle but pause when you hear Soap.

"Sarah, I'm not interested okay? I've told you like 3 times now. I... I like Y/N. And I'm sure she wouldn't like knowing that you're doing this. Because I respect her enough, the moment she comes through those doors I'll tell her." He takes a step back.

You and Layla can hear it on the other side of the door but she tries to stop you as you reach for the door again.

"Oh come on John. You'd be stupid to pass this up." Her voice is low and she's trying to sound sexy. They hear shuffling inside. "You need to leave me alone. I... I love Y/N. You and Layla can believe it or not but I do and I'm done with whatever this is. Back off before I make you."

You shove the door open. "That's enough!" You yell.

Soap and Sarah jump. "What the fuck is the deal?"

"Did you put them up to this?" He asks. "Of course I didn't put them up to this, I'm not fucking crazy." The swears leaving your lips have everyone in the room startled. "I don't know what the obsession is with you two trying to protect me from Soap when it's none of your business!"

"We just don't want you to give your V card to him because he's a fucking loser Y/N!" Layla calls back.

"I already had sex with him!"

The rooms falls quiet.

Their eyes are wide and even Soap is completely baffled. "I already gave him my virginity. I already slept with him, we've had sex multiple times." You have your arms crossed. Scolding them like a mother scolds her kids. "Seriously? Why didn't you lead with that?" Sarah hisses. "Because you both have been acting crazy."

"You.. you love her? You had sex with her and you still like her..?" Layla and Sarah turn to Soap. He looks away. "Yeah. I do. Maybe if you both had given it a chance you would've seen it." He sighs. "I just threw myself at him and he didn't take the bait. I think that's enough for me." Sarah shrugs her shoulders.

"Give us some space please." You sigh.

"Okay.. We owe you a huge apology Y/N. We had no idea." Layla mumbles. "It's fine, we'll talk later." You sigh. They both leave, the moment the door is closed you're locking it behind them. "Those two, my god." You laugh. He starts laughing too. "Yeah, a bit protective." He chuckles. "I'm sorry about that." You roll your eyes.

"It's alright. They're just looking out for you. Hitting on me though, that's a bit crazy."

"Very crazy."

The both of you start laughing, unable to contain it.

"Cat's out of the bag now I guess."

"Yeah, yeah I guess it is." You look up at him. He's beginning to close the distance between the both of you. "You ready to make this official yet or what?" He smirks. "I don't think that that's the way to properly ask a girl out MacTavish."

"I also don't think it was very respectable of you to let me hit it before at least becoming my girlfriend either, Y/L/N." He raises a brow. "Fuck you." You roll your eyes. Playful smile on your lips. "I'll never get used to you cursing like that. It's kind of sexy actually." He leans in, lips right by yours. "Shut up and ask the question Johnny."

"Fine." He laughs.

"Y/N. Will you be my girlfriend? Officially."

"Yes." You laugh. "Thank god." He mumbles, wrapping his arms under your thighs and lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist. He pushes you into the wall behind you, you can feel that he's already hard as he presses into you.

"Been waiting weeks to finally hear that lass."

[solxamber]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSj1MUa7G/

I feel like this is something my Yuu would sing in the Mostro Lounge

Jealous!Yuu with Azul, Trey and Rook plss(seperate and romantic)

the song is so good omg, I've had it in my head since I saw this req. I've also reinterpretated the req a little bit, hope that's okay!

thank you for waiting so long <3

(also reader is pretty assertive in this)

Azul, Trey, Rook x Jealous! Reader

Azul Ashengrotto

The Mostro Lounge was buzzing, as always. Azul, in full business mode, was the perfect mix of charm and professionalism, pulling strings and striking deals with that silver tongue of his. It wasn’t hard to see why people were practically falling for him left and right.

And you? Oh, you were fuming.

It started with that one overly enthusiastic customer, leaning across the counter, giggling at everything Azul said. Then, a group of students practically lined up to thank him for his "kindness" (which you knew was probably tied to some convoluted contract). The final straw? Some guy who straight-up asked Azul if he wanted to "grab coffee sometime," while twirling his hair like he was in a cheesy romance movie.

You slammed down your empty drink and stood up so fast the chair screeched. Enough was enough.

The moment Azul stepped away from the crowd to retreat to his office, you were on him.

"Azul."

He froze, hand on the doorknob, and turned to face you. "Ah, is there something I can—"

You grabbed his tie and tugged, not too hard, but enough to shut him up and pull him closer. His glasses slipped down his nose as his eyes widened in surprise.

"Listen here, Azul," you started, voice low and firm. "I’ve been watching people fawn over you all night, and frankly, I’m this close to losing my mind."

"I-I beg your pardon?" he stammered, his usual eloquence completely deserting him.

"You know exactly what I mean," you huffed, glaring up at him. "You walk around, flashing that business smile, charming everyone without even trying, and it drives me crazy. When are you going to stop playing hard to get and make me yours already?"

Azul’s face turned a shade you didn’t even think was possible. "W-What?! I… I don’t—"

"You know I belong in your arms," you continued, taking a step closer, making him back up against the wall. "So what’s the holdup, huh? Or do you like torturing me by letting me watch all these people drool over you?"

Azul opened and closed his mouth a few times, utterly speechless. His glasses were fogging up slightly, and his hands hovered awkwardly at his sides as if he didn’t know where to put them.

"You’re jealous?" he finally managed to croak out, voice barely above a whisper.

"Beyond jealous," you admitted shamelessly. "And I’m done hiding it."

Azul’s blush deepened, and he cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure. "I… I had no idea you felt this way."

"Well, now you do." You leaned in slightly, smirking at how flustered he looked. "So? What’s it gonna be, Azul? Are you gonna make me yours, or do I have to endure another night of watching people throw themselves at you?"

He straightened his glasses, avoiding your gaze, but the small, shy smile that crept onto his lips gave him away. "I… would be honored to make you mine," he said softly, then added, "And for the record, I don’t care about anyone else throwing themselves at me. I only care about you."

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but grin. "Took you long enough to admit it," you teased, finally letting go of his tie.

Azul chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I… suppose I have a lot to learn about expressing myself."

"Don’t worry," you said, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers. "I’ll teach you."

And judging by the way his blush deepened, he didn’t mind the idea one bit.

Trey Clover

The scene in the Heartslabyul kitchen was one you’d seen countless times before. Trey, sleeves rolled up, apron tied snugly around his waist, calmly mixing batter in a bowl as the scent of freshly baked pastries filled the air. He always looked so perfectly in his element here, like nothing could ever faze him.

Unfortunately, your patience had absolutely been fazed.

"Did you see that? Trey is so cool and kind!"

"I’m thinking of confessing to him this weekend—do you think he likes roses or sweets more?"

The voices of swooning freshmen played on a loop in your mind, fueling the fire in your chest. Everywhere you went, someone was singing Trey’s praises. It didn’t help that he was everything they said and more—charming, steady, warm. He was the complete opposite of Riddle’s strictness, and freshmen flocked to him for it.

But they didn’t get to adore him like that. Not if you had anything to say about it.

you stormed into the kitchen, your footsteps firm and purposeful. Trey, ever composed, glanced up from his work and greeted you with a soft smile.

"What a surprise. I was just about to put these in the oven. Want to—"

"Cut the sweet talk, Clover," you interrupted, marching straight up to him and slamming your hands on the counter. His smile faltered slightly, though the amusement in his eyes betrayed him.

"Something on your mind?" he asked, setting the bowl aside and leaning casually against the counter, as if your obvious fury didn’t rattle him in the slightest.

"Yeah, something’s on my mind," you snapped. "I can’t take it anymore, Trey."

His brow arched slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "Can’t take what, exactly?"

You stepped closer, effectively pinning him against the counter. Your tone softened, but your words carried the weight of everything you’d been holding back. "I can’t take watching people fall all over you. Every day, it’s the same thing—'Trey this,' 'Trey that,' 'Trey-senpai is so perfect.' And now I hear someone’s planning to confess to you this weekend?"

Trey tilted his head, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "You seem awfully worked up about this."

"Of course I’m worked up! I—" You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you, Trey. You know I belong in your arms, so when are you going to stop torturing me and make me yours?"

For the first time, you saw Trey genuinely falter. His eyes widened slightly, and a faint blush dusted his cheeks. But just as quickly, he regained his composure, his smile softening into something warmer, more genuine.

"So, you’re jealous," he said, his voice laced with amusement.

"Obviously," you muttered, crossing your arms. "And if you knew all along, you’re even more infuriating than I thought."

Trey chuckled, reaching up to adjust his glasses. "I had a feeling, but I didn’t want to rush you. I was waiting for you to say it yourself."

"Well, I’ve said it now. What are you going to do about it?"

His smile turned fond as he reached out, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. "I guess I should finally put you out of your misery, huh?"

Before you could respond, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "You’ve been mine all along, you know," he murmured, his voice low and warm.

Your breath hitched, and you felt the heat rising to your cheeks. "You… could’ve told me sooner," you mumbled, looking away.

"Where’s the fun in that?" he teased, though the sincerity in his tone betrayed how much he meant it. "Besides, it was worth the wait to hear you say it so passionately."

"Ugh, you’re a villain," you muttered, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

Trey chuckled, pulling you into a gentle hug. "Villain or not, you’re stuck with me now."

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Rook Hunt

Rook Hunt was everything you could want—and everything you couldn’t have. At least, that’s what it felt like.

His poetic words and boundless charm had drawn you in long ago, and you were certain they’d ensnared countless others just as easily. He was magnetic, otherworldly, impossible to ignore. And the way he spoke to people—praised them—was just… who he was. You understood that. You accepted it. But it didn’t stop the burning jealousy from clawing at your chest every time someone looked at him like he hung the moon.

Like today.

“I think Rook might be interested in me,” someone had whispered. “He said my laughter was like a melody carried on the wind!”

You’d laughed it off at the time, acting unaffected as you walked away, but the words echoed in your mind, leaving you restless and frustrated. Of course, Rook hadn’t meant it like that. You knew better than anyone how whimsical and effusive he could be. But it didn’t matter. Every glance he cast, every flowery compliment he offered, made you feel like your claim on him—if you even had one—was slipping through your fingers.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

By the time you found him in the courtyard, you were trembling—not from anger, but from the weight of everything you’d been holding back. Rook stood by a tree, gazing up at the branches with a soft smile, the winter sun casting a halo around his golden hair. When he noticed you approaching, his face lit up, and he greeted you in his usual fashion.

“Ah, mon trésor! How radiant you are today! To see you is to feel the sun’s warmth, even in the cold of—”

“Rook,” you interrupted, your voice tighter than you intended.

His smile faltered, replaced by an expression of mild concern. “Is something wrong, my dear?”

You stopped just a step away from him, your hands curling into fists at your sides. “No, not wrong. Just…” You hesitated, swallowing hard. “I need to say this before I lose my nerve.”

Rook tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his eyes, and the sight of him—so open, so beautiful—made your heart ache.

“I know how you are,” you began, your voice shaking. “I know you love to compliment people, and that’s… fine. It’s part of who you are. But…” You looked away, embarrassed by the heat rising to your face. “I hate the way they look at you. The way they think they might have a chance with you.”

“Mon ange…” Rook murmured, his voice softening.

“I’m not asking you to stop,” you said quickly, meeting his gaze again. “I could never ask you to change that. But I… I want them to know. I want everyone to know that you’re mine.”

There it was. The truth, laid bare between you. Your heart pounded as silence stretched, and for the first time, you saw Rook genuinely stunned. His eyes widened, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came.

Then, slowly, a smile broke across his face—wide and radiant and filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

“Ah, mon amour,” he breathed, his voice trembling with emotion. “You are magnificent.”

Before you could respond, Rook closed the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face as he gazed at you with a reverence that stole your breath.

“Do you know how long I have waited to hear those words?” he whispered. “How I have longed for this moment?”

Your breath caught, your eyes searching his. “You… you waited?”

“Of course,” he said, his smile softening. “How could I not? You are the one who holds my heart, mon trésor. I could not give it to anyone else, no matter how many compliments I offer.”

The relief that washed over you was overwhelming, and you laughed—soft and shaky, but genuine. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Rook chuckled, his thumbs brushing gently against your cheeks. “And you are extraordinary. Shall we make it official, then? Let the world know that we are one?”

Your heart swelled, and you nodded, a smile breaking across your face. “Yeah. Let’s.”

Rook beamed, his joy so infectious you couldn’t help but laugh again. And as he pulled you into his arms, spinning you around with the kind of exuberance only he could muster, you knew you’d never have to wonder if you belonged in his heart. You were already there.

Masterlist

[nerdygirlramblings]

continuing adventures of omega!soldier

previous

Given the conversation you'd had with them that morning, none of your squad is surprised by your decision when you join them for lunch. You see a few looking relieved, and while it stings, you don't fault them. You know it's only a taste of the battle you'll have to prove you're worthy of being part of the 141. Still, you feel uneasy leaving them, not knowing what kind of CO will take your place, decide you'll work with Captain Price to find a good replacement. Someone who won't end up running poor Geoffrey out of the service. Someone whose secondary gender might be a leg up for your most promising recruits.

You've been carrying the signed transfer papers since talking to your parents, but they feel like they're burning a hole in your trousers. You'd stared at your signature on them all afternoon. You don't, couldn't, regret your decision, but you have an irrational fear that something will happen to them if you don't deliver them to Captain Price before the ink dries, so to speak.

The walk from the mess to Captain Price's office feels simultaneously like the longest walk you've ever taken and one that's over before it starts.

Once in the right building, you find his office without issue and raise your hand to knock. You hear your raps echo hollowly on the other side of the door, but there's no other sound, no other movement. You never considered he might not be in his office. You can feel your hands get clammy, and you work to control your scent. There's no need to flood the hallway with your distress. You refuse to give into panic, remembering the good-looking assistant whose desk you passed on your way in.

You walk back down the hall to the handsome beta, his calming sent of fresh lemons and cinnamon, a homey, spicy blend, permeating the space, and wait a few moments until he notices you. When he glances up from the document he's poring through and over towards his computer screen, he finally sees you hovering/ Smiles brightly, he asks, "How can I help you?"

You shuffle a moment and glance down at your feet, surreptitiously wiping your hands against your thighs and reply, "Well, er, I was lookin' for Captain Price?" You only hope this man knows where he is.

Curiosity races its way across the beta's face before he locks down his expression. "Captain Price doesn't come into the office unless he has to, ma'am. Can I help you with something?" He's polite, but his scent has shifted ever so slightly. In addition to the comforting scents of lemon and cinnamon, there's now a subtly bitter scent of coffee or burnt brown sugar. Your presence is clearly unexpected.

You hurry to say, "Oh, I have some paperwork for 'im."

Recognition flashes in his eyes. "You're the omega, aren't you?" he whispers in an excited rush. He leans forward as if to share a secret. "He did say if you came by to make sure I bring you to the task force's barracks." His eyes sparkle playfully, and the lemon and cinnamon are now accompanied by the thick scent of buttercream. He taps his keyboard a few times, slides the papers he had on the desk into the drawer, and quickly stands. He's taller than you, but not by much, not like the other members of the 141. As he comes around the edge of the desk, he loops his arm with yours.

He begins steering you out of the office building and around to the barracks on the other side of base. "Name's Adam, and I do most of the boring stuff for the 141. and some of the other specialized groups on campus. I'm the one you give your leave paperwork to or incident reports, requisition requests, things like that." He gently squeezes his arm against yours. "I have to say, I haven't seen Price or the others this excited in a good long while. But don't tell them I said that!" He looks a little scandalized about having shared so much with you so quickly.

You smile at Adam. "I won't," you chuckle. "Are...are ya part 'a the pack too?" You remember Captain Price telling you the task force was a pack but that one didn't require the other. If Adam works closely with them, it stands to reason he might be.

"Oh no! No," he says quickly, catching your stricken look out of the corner of his eye. "Oh! No, I mean, not that I wouldn't have been interested, once upon a time. But I have my own pack. My alpha and another beta are military here on base, and our omega works in town."

You're a little placated, but Adam's comments do make you more wary of being part of their pack, something your omega whines about. He must notice your hesitation because he rushes on. "They're a good pack. Captain Price is a great leader. He keeps them in line both on and off the field, and with such big personalities, even from their betas, it's a job of its own. You wouldn't think two big alphas like him and Ghost could be in a pack without trying to kill each other, but it works. Then you throw in the bundle of energy of Sergeant MacTavish, and it's a whole other story."

You're so taken with how bright and open he is you don't realize you've stopped walking until you're standing at a nondescript door on a smaller building simply labeled 'TF 141.' Adam knocks three times in quick succession, waits, knocks three more times, and throws open the door. His voice echoes in the part of the building you can see as he calls out, "Captain Price, got a lovely, lethal Sergeant here who says she's got some papers for you!" Then he gives you a conspiratorial wink and turns on his heel, walking quickly back in the direction of the base offices.

next

[immortalmrwavell]

More Like A Real Man

(Original story posted September 8th 2022) This story has been significantly Updated!

A rare Gay to Straight themed story from me here so if that’s your thing then I hope you enjoy! 😜

“Finally I’m starting to look less like a nerdy piece of shit and more like a real fuckin man.” Henry smirked as he checked himself out in the selfie camera. At last he was starting to see the results of his labour. His body was finally starting to take shape. All the new muscle he’d been able to pack on made him a far cry from the stick figure of a man he was before. “Next thing will be to get some contacts so I don’t have to wear these dumbass glasses half the fuckin time.” He scoffed.

———

This all started over 6 months ago Henry was practically the picture of a skinny booknerd. With his frail body, glasses that framed his average face and clear lack of fashion sense. He was intelligent for sure, easily making it into one of the most advanced courses at his local college, but that only made him less popular when it came to the jocks. Henry was everything they weren’t. And most of all he was gay which didn’t help his reputation with the jock either.

Despite this, one day Henry found himself sneaking into Coach Kent’s office. The Coach had been in charge of the college’s football team and physical education courses for quite some time now. However, news had recently spread about Coach Kent deciding to leave. Saying something about a “Change of scenery”. And so this day was said to be his last day at the local college. Of course Henry, being the meek gay nerd that was, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see if the coach had left anything behind for him to steal. After all, he'd had a secret crush on the older burly man ever since he started going to this college.

He’d hoped to find maybe an old shirt or pair of shoes. Anything Henry could use to remember the Dilf that was Coach Kent in his own perverted way. What he didn’t expect to find was one of the coach’s jockstraps!?! He couldn’t believe the coach had left it behind but he certainly wasn’t going to complain. The nerd swiped it up without a second thought, giving it a good long sniff before shoving it into his bag.

Henry made another sweep of the office to see if there was anything else worth grabbing. He grabbed an old blue cap that had been left hanging on the door along with a pair of football socks remembered seeing Coach Kent wear a few times before. He was already imagining how hot the cosplay was going to be as he quietly slipped out of the office. Knowing he was gonna nut in that jockstrap as soon as he got home had him struggling to hide his boner.

Once in the comfort and privacy of his bedroom, Henry tossed his bag on the bed and immediately stripped down. He pulled out the worn jockstrap before pressing it to his nose yet again, loving the strong masculine scent left behind by Coach Kent. All the while thinking back on all the fantasies he’d had of worshipping the hot older man.

Eventually however he was able to pull jockstrap away from his face long enough to start putting it on. Sliding up over his lanky legs until the pouch pulled over his moderate cock and balls and the straps came up just below his flat butt. As expected it was far too big for him. So much so that it wouldn’t stay on properly without Henry holding it in place. But it was still super hot nonetheless. Causing his already stiff cock to pulse even harder with excitement as he used his free hand to jerk it.

He was already thinking of grabbing Coach Kent’s socks and cap to wear too… until a strange dizziness washed over him. He could hardly explain it as he started to lose what little strength he had before collapsing on the bed behind him. It was like his consciousness was being squashed down from the inside. That was the only way to explain it. But it wouldn’t matter as he soon faded from consciousness.

———

“Fuck sake! Why did this skinny nerd faggot have to find it first.” Henry shouted in frustration as he looked down and his scrawny body in disgust. Pawing at his non existent biceps and flat chest. Only it wasn’t Henry anymore. “I was sure I told one of the faggy jocks to check my office after I left!” Even his own voice was pissing him off now. Completely lacking any kind of real masculinity or power behind it.

Henry didn’t know it at the time but the jockstrap he’d stolen actually had Coach Kent’s very soul embedded into it. It was part of a sacred ritual that would allow him to take over the body of whomever wore the jockstrap. His plan had been to trick one of the younger closeted gay Jocks into taking it and putting it on but clearly things didn’t go exactly to plan. “I can’t do that fucking ritual for at least another ten years!” The coach vented in frustration.

The body snatcher looked himself up and down in the nearest mirror he could find. “Jesus Christ. I’ve seen chicks that don’t even work out with bigger muscles than this…” When he’d put his soul into that jockstrap he’d hoped to find himself in a new body that was young and strong. One that had potential to become a great athlete some day. Unfortunately Henry met only one part of that criteria. He might’ve been young but his physique was laughable at best. It was practically just skin and bone. And now that’s exactly what Coach Kent was stuck with. “Why did this pathetic little shit have to ruin everything…” He grumbled while gritting his teeth.

It was tough for him to adjust at first. Kent couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this puny but there was nothing he could do about it now. He was stuck in this imp’s body for the foreseeable future as infuriating as it was. However he had no plans looking like a thing for the next ten years so he did the only thing he could do to fix this fuck up. He got Henry’s skinny ass body into the gym.

It was embarrassingly tough at first for the once manly and imposing coach. Only being able to lift some of the smallest weights and having to set the machines he used to a light load. But despite that he pushed this pathetic worm’s body as far as it could go. He combined his efforts with a well thought out meal plan that he stuck to religiously over the next couple of months. It took some time but eventually he began to see some results in muscle gains that made him slightly less disgusted by his own reflection.

Those weren’t the only changes Kent had been making to Henry’s life however. In this time Henry’s friends had noticed a very sudden shift in his behaviour. He used to be a kind and timid guy that loved to talk about nerdy things with them. Yet one day he suddenly began acting crude, boisterous and talking like an absolute gym rat. Just like the dudes that would bully their friend group. In less than a week Kent had already cut ties with them after he started acting like a complete douchebag and calling them all a bunch of homophobic slurs. He didn’t want to be friends with a bunch of geeky homo’s anyway. Henry might’ve been a fag but Kent was as straight as a fuckin arrow!

Speaking of, it didn’t take long for him to have his straight orgasm. On the very first evening of being inside his new body, the coach first opened Henry’s laptop to find tabs upon tabs of gay porn open and in bookmarks. He was disgusted by it and was even more disgusted when his body reacted and got a semi for it. “Fucking faggot body…” He muttered to himself before swiftly deleting all the gay porn tabs with a strong grimace.

“Time to fix this broken dick.” He smirked before clicking on the search bar and pulling up the hottest straight porn he could find. It didn’t take long for Kent to find countless incredible videos of beautiful big breasted bimbo’s shaking their tits and fingering their wet pussies. Their feminine moans were like music to his ears. He glanced down at his cock as he started jerking it. “See? This is what you’re supposed to get excited about.” He said seemingly to no one but his own stolen dick as he returned his attention to the hot chicks on the screen. “Tits and pussy.”

The first few times he jacked off he found it tough to get fully hard due to his current body’s innate gay urges. Thankfully it got easier with each load he busted to the sight of huge tits. Almost like he was shooting out this body’s homosexuality in small doses with each orgasm. This of course only spurred Kent on more. Jerking off Henry’s once gay dick to the thought and sight of women every single night. After that it wasn’t long before the coach had fully conditioned his new cock to get incredibly hard at the sight of women and only women. He was proud to finally have a straight dick again that craved tits and pussy, like he believed all men should have.

But what happened to the real Henry during all this? Well his soul was cursed to be suppressed and trapped inside his own mind. He could see and hear everything but had zero control over what Coach Kent did and said with his body. Kent was in the driver's seat permanently. Henry tried to fight it but there was nothing he could do. Only being able to watch and feel as Kent forced him to workout and be an asshole to his friends. Forced to be a spectator as Kent redecorated his bedroom by ripping down the Star Wars posters in favour of putting up posters of footballers and women in skimpy bikinis. The Coach even went as far as to sell Henry’s comic collection and figures to make money and room for some new weights and home exercise equipment.

“Maybe I can make something outta this shitty body and life after all.” Kent would comment, looking at all the changes he’d made for the better so far. He still had a long way to go if he wanted to transform Henry’s life into the alpha male jock life he’d wanted to relive but it was a good start.

———

Jumping back to the present, Kent had finally gotten his new body into pretty decent shape with some good muscle and size showing. He managed to fill out most of the clothes that’d been baggy on Henry before and some he’d even had to trade for a size larger. His biceps were showing at last and his pecs were starting to come in nicely. Henry's once skinny legs were now looking a fair bit meatier. Not to mention his back and shoulders looking noticeably broader, giving him a far more masculine build. Naturally he still wanted to get much bigger but at least now he felt as though he could look in the mirror and see a real man staring back at him.

In this time he’d even signed up to the college football team at the start of the academic year where he was able to make some new bro friends. Though it a little strange for a couple reasons. One being that most of his new bros were players that he used to Coach before the takeover. The other reason being that most of them also used to bully the old Henry and make fun of him and his former queer friends. That said they gave Kent a hard time at first. Not that Kent minded. If anything he was glad that the young jocks he used to coach weren’t going easy on someone they believed to be a worthless faggot. It showed that he’d done a good job at raising them to be real men as well. And it also meant that he’d have to prove himself to them.

The attitudes of the other jocks began to turn around sooner than he expected. Mostly thanks to seeing the sudden shift in Henry’s attitude to become a jock like them. It wasn’t long before they started to admit how they were actually pretty impressed by the gains he’d made and that he was maybe cooler than they’d originally given him credit for. Especially now that he’d stopped hanging around those losers he was with before. What had earned their respect the most however was how well Kent played on the field with them during practice. By all accounts Henry should’ve been a complete amateur but with Kent in the driver's seat he had decades worth of experience that allowed him to keep pace with the other jocks.

Once again through it all the real Henry was helpless as he watched himself be transformed into even more of a typical straight jock with everyday that passed. Being forced to watch himself become ‘bros’ with the other jocks that he detested. Fist bumping and bro hugging them whenever he saw them whether it be at the gym, football practice or elsewhere on campus. He’d even been forced to use the same kind of dumb brotalk that all the jocks used. And of course joining in alongside them as they hurled homophobic insults towards the types of people he’d have been great friends with before. It was torturous!

The most torturous part for Henry however was the way Kent saw Women. He constantly found himself disgusted at the way Kent used his voice to talk about ‘hot chicks’ to his new bros. Describing how fat their tits and asses were to them and how he’d wanted to bend them over rail their tight pussies. Henry was disgusted at hearing the words leave his mouth. He would never have agreed with objectifying women like this. Yet now he found himself unwillingly staring at the huge racks of any sexy babes around the campus and feeling his bulge growing at the sight.

Tonight however was the night both Coach Kent had been waiting for and Henry had been dreading. Since getting into much better shape, girls around the campus had begun to take interest in the new, confident jock on the football team. Noticing this, Kent thought it was about time to shoot his shot and landed the number of one of the art students Talia. She had a reputation of being one of the “hottest chicks on campus” so when the other Jocks heard they all crowded around ‘Henry’ while jumping and cheering for him. That certainly boosted Kent’s ego for the first time in a while since taking his new body.

After a couple dates, Talia was finally coming over to Henry’s place for the night and wouldn’t you know it before long the two began pulling off each other's clothes. On the inside Henry was cringing, wanting nothing more than for this to stop and take back control of his body and life. Unfortunately on the outside his cock was rock hard as Kent was busily sucking on Talia’s tits while massaging and fingering her pussy like a pro.

“Oh my godddd…” Talia whined lustfully. “Where’d you learn how to touch a girl like that?” She asked between bated breaths. Going on to imply that no other guy she’d been with had been nearly this good at pleasuring her.

“Dunno.” Kent shrugged with a sly smirk. “Just instinct I guess.” He answered playfully before burying his face between her tits again, of course not revealing that in reality he had many decades worth of experience.

Henry’s protest became more and more frantic as things started to heat up. He was begging for it to stop when Talia wrapped her lips around his cock and began to stop but the only things that left his mouth were the soft grunts that the Coach let out. But when the busty college girl laid herself out on the bed, legs spread eagerly, Henry was reduced to screaming ‘NO! NO! NO!’ Over and over again. But his protests fell on deaf ears as they always did. Completely powerless to stop Kent as he their cock up with Talia’s slick entrance. And for the first time in his life, Henry felt himself plunge his cock deep inside a wet welcoming pussy.

“Fuuuuuuckkkk yeahhhhhhhh…” Kent growled at the familiar feeling. Also enjoying the subtle differences in how it felt fucking with a different cock to his previous one.

Henry tried his best to fight against it. To rebel and protest but nothing worked. He couldn’t even stop himself from moaning internally at the feeling of being inside a pussy. After all he could still feel all the same pleasure as Coach Kent pumped in and out rhythmically while groaning out in Henry’s noticeably deeper voice. The thrusts grew faster and more aggressive as the two changed positions a couple times. It wasn’t until Kent had already fucked Talia so good that she’d orgasms all over his dick that he could feel a load welling up in his balls. Something Henry was terrified about. Yet, a few more powerful thrusts and a long groan later, Henry found himself being forced to do something he never thought he would. Pumping a tight pussy nice full with his thick potent load.

In that moment something changed. The Coach was still in complete control but suddenly the real Henry found his mind linking up to Kent’s. Like the act of breeding a woman had left them both in such bliss, whether the real Henry had wanted it or not, that it allowed them to become truly intertwined. After that Henry found himself in a daze internally as Kent’s very soul weaved itself around Henry’s, corrupting him slowly but surely.

‘Maybe I like pussy after all…’ Henry would soon start to think, oblivious to what was happening to him. ‘Maybe being a football jock isn’t so bad…’ Tye corruption would spread as his old sense of sense began to dwindle. Little did he know that soon his individuality would be wiped without a trace. His consciousness would become like a mirror to Coach Kent’s until Henry was more than happy to go along with anything Kent had them do. Whether that be sports, joining the fraternity and fucking busty bimbo’s left and right.

And after that Henry would be consumed entirely, leaving only Kent and his new body…

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter twenty-four: Fractured Walls

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

previous |24| next

Series Masterlist

The days that followed felt like a delicate dance—one where every step, every movement, was measured and careful. In-ho had distanced himself, but it wasn’t the same cold, distant wall he’d once put up. Now, it was like a door left slightly ajar, the cracks in his armor still visible but not easily breached. The pain in his eyes lingered, but so did the silence. He was more restrained, more controlled, but there was something else—something you couldn’t quite name, but you felt it. He was waiting for you to push, to challenge him, to see if you would let him hide.

You hadn’t pushed yet. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you understood. Losing someone, especially someone you loved with everything you had, left a scar deep enough that no amount of time could heal it. You could see it in the way he moved, the way his jaw clenched when he thought you weren’t looking, the way his eyes sometimes lingered on you as though trying to decide if you were worth the risk. He had built walls, but now they were just fragments—broken enough for you to see glimpses of what was underneath.

And so, you waited.

But waiting wasn’t always easy.

The following evening, you found yourself standing in front of In-ho’s office door. The silence in the hallway was suffocating, like the quiet before a storm. You weren’t sure what you were hoping for. Maybe a conversation, or maybe just the courage to finally confront him again. Something inside you told you it was time. Time to stop tiptoeing around the truth.

You knocked twice before stepping inside. He looked up from the papers on his desk, his usual unreadable mask in place, but there was a flicker in his eyes. A flicker you knew all too well. He wasn’t angry—he was… conflicted. Conflicted in the way only someone who had been hurt so deeply could be.

“You need something?” His voice was calm, controlled—too controlled, almost as if he was bracing for a confrontation.

You swallowed, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on you. There was a knot in your throat, but you wouldn’t let it stop you.

“I need to talk,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with something that might have been uncertainty.

He leaned back in his chair, studying you in that quiet way he did, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the edge of his desk. His mask was still firmly in place, but the air around him felt thick—heavy with the unspoken tension.

“What about?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly, though you could see the flicker of curiosity behind the coldness.

You took a step forward, your gaze unwavering as you met his. “About us. About what happened after the panther mask… and about you pulling away.”

In-ho’s jaw tightened at the mention of the panther mask, but he didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he stood up, walking to the window without a word. His back was to you, but his posture had stiffened, the tension in his broad shoulders radiating out like a warning. He hadn’t even taken the time to mask the rawness in his expression, and for a brief moment, you saw the cracks in his calm demeanor.

“You don’t know what you’re asking, do you?” His voice was low, almost a growl, and you could hear the edge of frustration in it. “I told you before. This life… this world… it’s not for you.”

You didn’t flinch, even though your heart skipped a beat. You were used to his intensity now, used to the way he could shut you out with just a few words. But that wasn’t going to stop you. Not this time.

“I know this world isn’t easy,” you said, your voice quieter but still firm. “But I’m already in it, In-ho. Whether you want me to be or not. And I’m not asking for anything more than… honesty. I need to understand why you won’t let me in.”

He turned to face you, his gaze sharper now, like he was seeing you for the first time all over again. For a moment, his eyes softened—just the slightest hint of vulnerability flickering behind the cold mask. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the same guarded distance.

“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice thick with frustration. “I can’t open myself up again. Not after… not after everything that happened.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. There it was—the reason behind the walls. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you—it was that he didn’t know how to let someone in again. He was afraid. Afraid of the very thing you were hoping to build.

“You’re afraid,” you said, your words soft but firm. “You’re afraid of losing someone again, aren’t you?”

He flinched, the barest flicker of emotion crossing his face before it was hidden again. The silence stretched between you both, thick with the weight of his unspoken pain.

“Losing someone…?” His voice faltered for a split second, and you saw the wall in him crack just a little more. “I lost everything once. My wife. My child. I let myself love them, and it destroyed me when they were gone.”

Your heart ached for him—really ached, in a way you hadn’t anticipated. He wasn’t just pushing you away; he was guarding himself from something deeper. Something that threatened to break him if he allowed it to resurface.

“I can’t make the same mistake again,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, the vulnerability in it raw. “I won’t.”

You felt the urge to step closer, to reach out to him, but you stopped yourself. You knew he wasn’t ready for that yet. But you weren’t going to let him push you away this time.

“You don’t have to love me right now,” you said, your voice calm but unwavering. “But don’t shut me out. Don’t shut yourself out. I’m not going anywhere.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the silence thick with the weight of his words and your own. You could feel his struggle, the internal battle waging inside him. He wanted to push you away, but he also wanted to pull you closer. You could see it in the way his hands clenched at his sides, the way his jaw tightened with effort.

Finally, In-ho broke the silence, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t promise you anything,” he said, his voice rough. “Not right now. Not after everything.”

“I don’t need promises,” you replied, taking a step toward him. “I just need you to trust me. Little by little. I’m not asking for everything.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, as if weighing your words, before slowly opening them again. This time, there was something new in his gaze—a hint of uncertainty, a crack in his resolve that he couldn’t hide.

“You have more patience than I thought,” he muttered, almost to himself, before his gaze softened ever so slightly. “But you should know… this isn’t easy for me.”

“I know,” you said quietly. “I’m not asking for it to be easy. Just… don’t push me away. Not when I’m here.”

There was another long pause, the air between you both heavy with unspoken thoughts, but this time, the silence felt different. It didn’t feel like a wall—it felt like a quiet understanding, a beginning of something that neither of you could fully define yet.

But at least now, there was the possibility of something real. Something you could hold onto.

———————

Chapter 24! How do you guys like this? Do you like how I’ve written the chapters and the characters? Thank you!

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[thanosscross]

Round and round, we go - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x Reader 2/?

Summary: After Seung Hyun ends up ghosting you for days, you finally let him know how he's been making you feel, ending with a deep conversation with your new best friend

Warnings: Slight mentions of depression, other than that, none lovelies! <3

You wouldn't hear from Choi Seung Hyun for almost a week, after your last interaction, leaving you to yourself to work on fixing up any tears or frayed ends on his coat, and burying yourself into work. You didn't do anything big or spectacular like Seung Hyun, you were a tailor/dressmaker for a small dress shop in your hometown, fixing ripped clothing and dresses, altering tuxes and wedding dresses, and fixing school dance dresses, it wasn't anything big, but you liked it and it made you happy.

As you walked into work one morning, you weren't expecting to be so busy, with the shop itself being busy, and you being pulled onto the sales floor to help pick dresses for brides and teens, and your appointments for alterations and fixes, plus walk ins for you to do, you were about to pull your hair out. As you rushed into one of your tailor rooms, you tried to take a deep breath, your phone buzzing with a text that interrupted you 'Coat boy: How're you today? working hard?' You sighed, not being able to hold back a smile as you read over Seung Hyun's message. Replying back that it was busier than ever and you were out of coffee, you slid your phone back into your pocket, making your way back out to your client, who was being more difficult than ever. The stress was never-ending though, as soon as you got your client out of the shop, you had another walk in, and your office phone ringing "Hello? Beauty's bridal and dress, what can I do for you?" You asked, trying your best to keep an upbeat tone as your new client stood impatiently in front of you, tapping her foot as she held her daughter's prom dress. "Hi, I wanted to see about coming in to get a small tear sewn?..What time would be best?" The voice asked, you pinched the bridge on your nose between your finger tips, of course it was another call-in, glancing at your calendar you sighed, deciding to give up your lunch break for the day "Yea um..just stop in around two, and ask for Y/n" You replied sweetly before hanging up, looking at your customer, directing them towards your workbench, so you could see what needed done.

As soon as what was supposed to be your lunch break hit, you sat on the spin platform in one of the private tailor rooms, you didn't use them often, mainly just for tuxes, you had a bigger room with more mirrors that was recently built, so you tried to use that, just so it was easier with the bigger, puffy dresses. Hearing the bell above the shop door ding, you felt like you wanted to either explode with anger, or cry, all you wanted to do was eat and go home, maybe get a call in with Seung Hyun before you had to go to bed, instead you were working a double with no lunch break. Standing up to greet your client, you were relieved to see Seung Hyun shyly walk into your office "Hi, sorry for calling in...I just..I have a show tonight, and I kind of..tore that one pocket you added on for me" He explained shyly, scratching the back of his neck as you both moved to sit at your desk, you just smiled at him, letting your head fall on the table. "Are you okay?..Is now a bad time?" He asked softly, reaching a hand out to grasp yours gently "More than okay, I thought you were another customer, and instead it's someone I can relax and be myself around" You sighed, turning your hand to hold his out of instinct, as you stood up, you took your hand, motioning him into the platform as you picked up some of your sewing supplies, that you'd need.

"Thank you for this, I really appreciate it" He smiled softly as you tied off the thread, securing the pocket back in its rightful place. "Of course, we can't have T.O.P on stage with ripped clothes, unless intentional" You giggled, patting the pocket slightly before handing the coat back to him proudly "It's on the house sir, I'll happily fix anything you bring me" You smiled softly, squeezing his shoulder as he blushed "I'll keep that in mind, y/n" He smiled softly, giving you a tight hug before sighing "I do have to get going though, I promise, I will call you after my show though, unless you want to come?" He smiled softly, pulling away from the hug, sliding his hands down from your shoulders to your hands gently "I'm sorry, I really am, I have to stay till nine tonight, and then come back at eight tomorrow" You frowned softly, going to grab his other coat from your office chair "Did you want this back though?" You asked, offering it to him shyly, he just shook his head smiling brightly "No, No, keep it, Aein, I'm sure we'll see each other soon" Seung Hyun laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your hand before disappearing out of the shop.

You'd end up staying up late that night, waiting for a call from Seung Hyun, only for it to never come, growing frustrated, you'd send him a goodnight text before going to sleep for the night. You wouldn't hear from him again until three days later, whenever he'd show up to your work, his hood pulled far over his face as he darted for your office, hoping you wouldn't have any customers. As his eyes fell on you, he felt himself relax, until your gaze towards him turned harsh and icy "Who do you think you are? You're leading me on, do you realize that? I understand, you're famous, and you're a busy guy, but I have feelings, so it would be nice to know if you're sweet like this with all of your fans, or if this is going anywhere" You ranted, at first, you liked the 'Enjoy what it is, don't make it complicated' mindset, but the way he was with you, and the fact that you had people actively asking you out, you felt inclined to decline their offers, choosing to stay committed to whatever you had going on between you and Seung Hyun. "I-I'm sorry...I just-..Did you mean what you said...when you said you'll happily fix anything?.." He whispered, fidgeting with his hands and rings as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, you stopped, thinking about how you'd want to reply, you could just brush off your frustrations, or tell him to just leave. Sighing as you ran a hand through your hair, you motioned for him to get onto the platform "What's ripped this time?" You asked, grabbing your needle and thread, stopping as he just stood in his place "I-I think I need fixed" He whispered, his voice shaking as he spoke, his gaze glued to the floor as you slowly approached him. "Seung Hyun...What do you mean?" You asked softly, holding his arm gently as you led him to sit down on one of the benches in your office, sitting down next to him before you spoke again "Seung Hyun, I don't think you need fixed" You whispered, taking his hand in yours, caressing his knuckles with your thumb as he sniffled. "I-I panic..all of the time, I'm supposed to be an idol, and yet, I'm scared of big crowds swarming me" He ranted, you were quick to cut him off "Choi Seung Hyun, hush. You can't control that, and it's okay, everybody has their own mental stuff going on, what's important is, you take care of yourself, you don't need fixed because of those things, nor would I be able to do it, but..I can help you..talk you through whatever you need" You whispered, squeezing his hand gently as you finished speaking, Seung Hyun couldn't speak, he couldn't trust his voice as tears built up in his eyes, pulling you into a tight hug as he tried to hide that he was crying.

You didn't care, you just wrapped your arms around him tightly, resting your head on his chest "I thought I had made you upset, or angry" You whispered after a moment, feeling him pull back away from you as he wiped his face quickly "No! You could never, Aein, I just..Didn't want you or anybody..to see me like this" He whispered, you just smacked his arm gently "Choi Seung Hyun, Are you serious? I'm hurt, I thought we were closer than that" You huffed, watching as he tried to hide the soft smile that was growing on his lips. "I just-" He tried to explain, but you cut him off "I know, it's okay, I'm not actually mad" You giggled before tilting your head slightly "Did you need something fixed, or did you just come here to find me?" You asked as you stood up slowly, Seung Hyun watched you closely, he wasn't exactly sure why he came here, he just knew, whenever he was around you, you made everything feel less scary and bad, and that's he needed right now. "I just...wanted to come apologize..for...leading you on?" He questioned, trying to remember your wording from earlier, causing your face to heat up with a blush "O-Okay, well, that was before I knew, that you just needed a minute to yourself" you protested, smiling as you heard him chuckling softly "It's okay, I just, I want to enjoy what's going on with us, I'm not sure if I'm even in the right headspace for that, so..if you want me to back off, and just be a friend, I won't be upset, I'll understand" He explained, holding your hands gently as he tried to calm his nerves "Seung Hyun, I have turned down six guys, and two girls, in the time we've started talking, I'm not just going to walk away now, I'm having fun with you" You smiled, cupping his cheek gently "Thank you..Y/n.." He whispered, pulling his hood off slowly as he started to feel the hold, his racing thoughts had over him, loosen. "Anytime, Jagiya, have you eaten at all tonight? I'm sure they wouldn't mind me heading out an hour or two early, I can order us some takeout?" You offered, smiling as his eyes lit up "Of course! I'd do anything if you're included" He smiled, causing a blush to rise to your cheeks, you just shook your head giggling as you grabbed your (His) coat and your purse, before leading Seung Hyun out of your shop, clocking out on your way out of the door.

Whenever you got to your apartment, you shyly picked up your dirty laundry from the floor "Sorry! These double shifts really take time away from cleaning" You apologized sheepishly as you made your way to the kitchen, trying to find the takeout menu, you were just using the other night. "You're okay! I promise! I don't mind it" He smiled softly, after you managed to finally order takeout and eat, you were left laying on the couch with Seung Hyun, your head on his chest as his arms were wrapped around you tightly. "So you turned down eight people, just for me, while I wasn't answering?" He asked in shock, trailing his fingers up and down your back as he waited for a response, you just hid your face quickly "Yes, But I didn't want to be with them anyways, they weren't the type of people I'd want to spend my time with" you replied shyly, Seung Hyun just laughed softly at your remark "So who is?" He asked playfully, watching as you giggled, rolling on your back playfully "So I'll tell you because we're best friends, but personally? I like the men who are taller, but not by much, deep voice, colored hair, sweet, kind" You playfully listed off, watching as Seung Hyun laughed "You're just describing me!" He laughed, throwing his head back as you continued "they can rap, they're breathtakingly handsome, they're silly, they know just the right thing to say and when to say it, and they're always worrying and caring about their friends and family" You smiled softly, looking up to meet his gaze, Seung Hyun was watching you in awe, your words causing his stomach to flip and flutter. "So basically, me?" Seung Hyun laughed shaking his head, you just turned to face him, resting your chin on his chest as you looked at him "Yes so basically you" You giggled, smacking his arm playfully "You're just better than anybody I've ever spent time with" You added on, smiling at him, watching as he blushed "You're too sweet to me, y/n, I don't know what I've done to deserve you" He whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead "You went through a lot, so let this good thing happen" You giggled, raising his eyebrows, Seung Hyun laughed "You are the weirdest person I know" He chuckled, you just smiled, taking his remark as a compliment as you sighed "I'm serious, you deserve good things, even if you didn't do anything in order to get them" You whispered, leaning up gently to make eye-contact, trying to stress how serious you were.

"Okay, Okay, right now I just want to hang out with you" He chuckled, watching as you glared at him playfully "Fine! Hang out with me" You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder, you laid in silence for awhile before finally Seung Hyun spoke up "Y/n? Do you ever...feel like kissing your friends?" He asked, deep in thought, you just broke out into giggles as you shook your head "No, Seung Hyun, I don't think I have, until I met you" You laughed, your hands coming up to cover your face, Seung Hyun just grabbed your wrists gently, pulling your hands away slowly "Can you read my mind? Or did you just say what I was thinking?" He asked, trying to hide his smile, you just blushed brightly, giggling as he leaned closer to you "So..?" He whispered, leaving his hand resting on the back of your neck as his gaze flicked between your eyes and then your lips "If you want to kiss me, Seung Hyun, you don't have to ask" You giggled, pressing your lips to his as he smiled, placing your hands on his cheeks as you pulled away smiling "See? No need to ask, not you" You giggled, watching as he smiled looking away, his cheeks lighting up with a bright blush, You just laid your head on his shoulder again smiling "See? Best friends that kiss" You giggled, trying your best to sound like a surfer from America or Australia, Seung Hyun couldn't really tell. "Y-Yea, best friends that kiss" He smiled softly, wrapping his arms around you again sighing, While he wasn't exactly ready for a solid real relationship, he knew you were special, and he knew as soon as he was ready to take that step, you'd be the person, he'd want to take it with. You were loving, caring, sweet, selfless, thoughtful, and the way you were so understanding of him not being ready for something serious, but still showing you loved him, really had him questioning now, what he did to deserve somebody as understanding and amazing as you.

--

What do we think lovelies? I'm trying out a new trope with this series! So let me know what you think of the trope with someone not being ready for a relationship but loving someone anyways, and said someone being supportive and loving that person regardless. Excited to hear from you!! <333

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[caelisblade]

༉‧₊˚. favorite crime - fushiguro toji

༉‧₊˚. synopsis: one moment, you were doing something as basic as taking out the trash (like, literally), the next moment you were getting fucked by a wanted felon who pretty much broke into your place in hopes you‘d harbor him for a few minutes until the coast was clear. who knew the thrill of crime was so exhilarating you needed a quick one-night-stand to come back to your senses? or did you lose your mind entirely and just didn‘t notice in the process of being fucked into tomorrow?

༉‧₊˚. warnings: you literally f/uck murderer!toji lol, unprotected s/ex, c/unnilingus, f/ingering, he calls you princess (like, a lot of times), toji talks A LOT like dude shut up lmao

༉‧₊˚. this was entirely inspired by a scene in the rookie where lucy made up a cover story for how juicy and dim met, it's basically that but with toji. this is a repost from my jujutsu kaisen blog @/tojisblade. i am currently in the process of combining both of my blogs into one.

he was in so much fucking trouble. 

never did he even think the cops were onto him, god, the fucking cops in plain clothes, they were in the same club he was as he was adding poison into his target’s drink. they literally saw him poison the drink. now they were running after him, trying to catch him. 

toji quickly ran into a massive apartment complex as he tried to flee the scene, the cops nearby behind him. looking around to see if there was anyone or any place he could hide, as he still ran. 

it was like fate when you opened the door, purely by coincidence. you were getting out to take out your trash as you saw him running frantically. “hey, are you oka–“, you started out asking, but got interrupted. 

“listen to me. the cops are after me and i need a hideout. can i stay in for a moment until they leave?”, he said, frantically. 

“w-what?”, you stuttered, completely caught off-guard. 

“fuck, just shut up”, he groaned before he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside of your apartment. 

“hey! what do you think you’re doing?!”, you exclaimed, still not completely getting what was going on. you had dropped the bag in shock as he pulled you in. 

“shut. up!”, he hissed, looking out of the window, just to see the two cops who were after him walking around the apartment complex with their guns drawn and flashlights turned on as they cleared every corner. “shit.”

he looked around, trying to figure out what he could possibly do with his situation before he finally faced you. “okay, listen. my name is fushiguro toji, and i am being chased by the cops out there. i know, i’m just a stranger, but trust me, i am not going to hurt you, despite how this all seems like, considering the cops are after me.”

“uh… yeah, duh”, you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“roll those eyes at me again and i’ll reconsider”, he immediately continued, tone turning threatening almost immediately. “do not fucking interrupt me, princess.”

“fine, talk. you just broke into my apartment, so i do deserve some explanation. start talking, or i’ll kick you out for the cops to find you.”

“and I apologize for the break-in. i swear i don’t plan on hurting you because that is just unnecessary evil, even for me. i just need a couple of minutes here to hide, so that i can run in peace. is that okay?”, toji asked. you were so convinced you had lost your damn mind when you nodded and agreed that he could stay over for a couple of minutes. 

“if the cops knock, i am not here”, toji emphasized again, making sure you got it. you held yourself back from rolling your eyes again. you might’ve needed a moment to understand what was going on, but you were not dumb. 

as if on cue, there was a loud knock, startling you. you stayed quiet as you pointed at the bathroom for toji to hide. your heart was beating so fast, as you went to the door and asked; “who is there?”

“police department. we want to ask you a few questions”, the officer yelled back. 

“can you please identify yourself?”, you stalled as you checked if toji had hidden. you looked through the peephole as the cops held up their detective badges before you smiled softly and opened the door for the cops. 

“what seems to be the problem, detectives?”, you asked gently. 

“we are in search of a murderer going by the name, fushiguro toji. black haired, very tall and muscular. last seen wearing a black t-shirt and blue jeans. he is classified as extremely dangerous. we last saw him entering this apartment complex. have you seen him, by any chance?”, the officer asked. 

you pretended to think a little before you shook your head. “nope. i was actually on my way out to take out my trash so, i was inside the whole time.”

“alright, ma’am, please give us a call if you see or remember anything. would you want us to accompany you when you go outside, in case you don’t feel safe?” one of the two detectives handed you a card with his contact details as he spoke and offered his company. 

you nodded at the offer, tagging along as you took out your trash and thanked the officers for the help. “could you possibly tell me a little about that person you’re looking for? perhaps that will help me with my memory or something i can watch out for in the future?”

“i cannot disclose any details yet as it is an ongoing investigation, however, the current m.o of the suspect is that he uses poison in his victim’s drinks. so, perhaps just watch out for your drink the next time you’re out partying.”

“thank you, officers. i can return to my apartment alone, thank you for the company. i’ll uh… let you know if I see something”, you said goodbye to the officers before turning around. 

“goodbye, ma’am, have a good night”, they said in unison. 

you quickly headed back, your entire body was literally on fire after that short conversation and the fact that you were literally harboring a felon – a literal murderer – in your apartment had you shaking to your core. once you locked your apartment and made sure the cops were gone, you were suddenly pushed to the wall next to the door. “good girl. you did great”, Toji had you cornered, smirking at you as you looked at him with big eyes, shocked by his sudden action. 

“thank you”, you whispered back, not trusting your own voice. the little nickname caused you to subconsciously clench your legs together. his arm was over your head on the wall, cornering you between his huge body and the wall. “you’re not so bad yourself. out on several murder charges, huh?”

“so, you asked about me, didn’t you?”, toji chuckled, biting his lip. “yeah… what about it? you scared?”

“i should be, shouldn’t i? but god, it makes you oddly attractive and interesting. so, tell me, what is that all about?”, you ask then, a little smile sneaking onto your lips. “a murder suspect in my apartment, who insists on promising me that he won’t hurt me, hm?”

“attractive and interesting?”, Toji chuckled. “i may or may not have added some extra ingredient to some dickhead’s drink.” He casually shrugged, eyeing you up and down. 

“so, that was why they said to be careful of my drinks next time i’m out partying, huh?”, you replied. 

“i would never add some additional ingredient to your drink, princess”, toji taunted before he suddenly leaned in and kissed you. you couldn’t help but immediately melt into him, arms wrapping around his neck, as his one hand wrapped around your thigh and lifted it up around his hip. 

everything felt so surreal. one moment you were literally taking out your trash, the next you were not only harboring a murderer in your apartment, but also about to fuck him.

the kiss was so full of fire, so much passion and there was nothing but carnal desire and need – it was like the fact that he was a murderer, a wanted felon, flew right over your head. you simply couldn’t care less about it because, fuck, the entire situation was so incredibly hot, the fact that the cops were still around searching the premises was making you feel so tingly. 

“mhm, princess, you taste so sweet. i wonder if your pussy tastes just as sweet, hm?”, he whispered against your lips, smirking. “will you let me have a taste?”

“maybe… but maybe i won’t. you’ve got to earn it, mister.”

“what a tease, princess. but you know what, you shouldn’t tease me, because believe me, i can do better than that”, he continued, before he leaned back in to kiss you once more as you grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, your eyes going up and down over his very toned and muscular body. 

and you felt so insanely lucky to think about the fact that his body would be on top of you or underneath you in just a couple of minutes. 

“so, you wanna move this over to the bedroom or are you not that much of a gentleman and just fuck your women against a cold ass wall?”, you giggled.

“oh, I sure as hell do not keep my women cold and standing, mh? wouldn’t be so fair if i fuck you into oblivion and don’t give you a comfortable place to come down from the highs i give you, hm?”

“someone’s cocky. but alas, unfortunately, there has been nothing but talk so far, honey”, you reply, giggling before you squealed in shock as he lifted you up over his shoulder. 

“where’s the bedroom, princess?”, he asked, voice rough. “need to teach you how to properly speak to me before i reward you with pleasure you have never felt in your life before.”

when you pointed to the room, he immediately went in and dropped you onto your bed, quickly climbing onto you, practically ripping apart your clothes. “god, princess, you’re so hot, so gorgeous underneath me”, he groaned, lips wandering down to your tits before he wrapped them around your one nipple, sucking and licking over the sensitive nub. your body arched into him as you let out a whine and toji smirked, enjoying the way you responded to his touch. 

“reacting so fucking perfectly for me, princess. can’t wait to get a taste of your pretty pussy”, he teased. “did i earn it yet, princess?”

you nodded frantically. “fuck, just get to it”, you whined. 

“so bossy, princess. such a good little slut for the murderer you harbored in your home and protected without knowing what dangers could possibly await you”, he snickered, “does it excite you? knowing you lied to cops for me, for someone you don’t even know? for the murderer you’re about to fuck?” toji’s lips wandered down your body, slowly reaching your pussy and he pulled your panties aside to lick over your clit, flattening his tongue over your folds as he spread your legs apart with his hands. 

“fuck don’t stop!”, you cried out, back arching again into his grip around your waist. 

he looked up at you, smirking as some saliva was running down his chin, and he was watching your every reaction. toji had grown obsessed with how well you reacted to his touch, his tongue over your pussy, his lips sucking on your clit. “reacting so prettily for me, princess. want more? want me to fuck you? i’ll bring literal heaven to you, princess. if you let me.”

you were nodding once again, fingers buried in his hair as he lowered his head back again to your pussy and you felt two of his fingers against your entrance, slowly slipping in and fingering you slowly. your eyes widened in surprise, you let out a choked sob as his fingers hit your sweet spot – you cried out as he continued with the constant stimulation. 

“please, toji, fuck me, please?”, you whined, attempting to pull him closer back on top of you. however, he was obviously way stronger than you and could stay where he was with no trouble at all. 

“it’s rude to interrupt a man while he’s eating, princess”, he grunted, “let me make you cum first on my mouth, princess, then i’ll fuck you.”

you whined as he increased his finger’s pace, continuing the sweet torture on your pussy with his lips as well and your hips were jolting up as you got closer to your release. a cry left your lips as you begged him not to stop and felt him smirk against your clit, promising not to stop until you came for him. 

it didn’t take too long for him to fulfil that promise. the way everything practically shattered around you had you thinking about the last time you had felt this much pleasure at once. “holy shit”, you choked up. “that was… intense.”

“told you, princess, i’ll bring literal heaven to you”, he smirked, slowly climbing on top of you and watching you come down from your high. “did i keep my promise, princess?”

“you sure as hell did. but…”, you wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled him closer for a kiss, “if you don’t put that damn cock of yours inside me anytime soon, i bet the cops will be very interested in knowing where you’re hiding.”

“you little minx… don’t worry, princess. i gave you a promise and i intend to keep it. you’re about to have the most intense night of your life.”

as he pulled down his jeans, your eyes widened as you saw his cock’s girth and length. you had already assumed that he was big, considering his big ass ego, but you didn’t expect this. he noticed your hesitation and laughed lightly. “don’t worry, princess, i won’t hurt you.”

“you’re a wanted criminal, do you think I trust your word?”

“i promised i wouldn’t hurt you and i kept that promise. i told you i would bring you to heaven and i did keep that promise, too, didn’t i?”

you considered his arguments and shrugged. he had a good point with that. 

“so, do you believe me when i tell you i won’t hurt you?”

You nodded. 

he smiled softly at you before he aligned his tip with your entrance, pulling your panties aside once more and finally, pushed his cock inside slowly, inch by inch, slowly getting you used to his size. your back arched when he was buried inside of you fully, a tear rolling down your cheek as your body was basically on fire. 

“you’re so tight, princess, feels so good”, he groaned, waiting for a moment to let you adjust to the stretch. “can’t wait to fuck this tight and perfect pussy of yours.”

“please, fuck me”, you whimpered, nails raking over his back as he slowly started a tender, gentle pace and before you knew it, he was starting to build a merciless, brutal rhythm, making your tits bounce with the frantic way he was thrusting into you.

the sound of his hips snapping against yours had your eyes rolls back, your legs were wrapped around his waist as you held onto him and you were pleading him not to stop, practically crying and he fucked you so good like you never had been before. 

“goddamn it, princess, you’re so fucking hot when you get fucked like this. do you like how i fuck you, hm?”, he rasped, lips wandering over your neck. His hips stuttered as pleasure like he never felt before coursed through his body, getting closer and closer to the edge. “i’m going to cum, princess, where do you want me to cum, hm? on your pretty tits? in your mouth, so you’ll have to swallow every single drop? or maybe inside of your tight, perfect pussy, hm? give you a good old load of me and make you feel it drip down your thighs when i pick you up and fuck you against the wall over there?”

his words had your eyes roll back at the visual. “please, inside”, you whined, sobbing as you clenched around him and finally reached your peak, coming around him again, sputtering in pleasure. “fuck, toji”, you practically wailed. 

“am i keeping my promise, princess?”

“yes, fuck, you are, stop asking me that and cum in me”, you groaned in annoyance. 

“still so bossy, princess”, he laughed before he continued his rough pace and shortly after let out a choked breath, hips stilling as he came inside of you. toji wasn’t moving at all, trying to come down from his high while he relaxed his body. “fuck, princess, you feel so incredible.”

“oh, fuck, this was better than anything i have ever felt before.”

“i’m glad i got to prove to you how good i can fuck you”, he chuckled, slowly pulling out of you and laying down next to you. 

“hey, i thought you were going to fuck me against the wall and have your cum drip down my thighs?!”

“you wanna go again?”

“hell fucking yes”, you snorted and squealed when he got up on his feet and pulled you up before pushing you against the wall, lifting your legs around his waist as he kept you up against the wall and quickly slid his cock back inside of you, fucking you again and bringing you to yet another earth-shattering orgasm and another one. 

and the most exhilarating part of this was that you could hear the detectives through the thin walls, discussing their next move to finally find the guy who currently had his cock buried deep inside of you. 

the one who you had lied to the cops to, making you an accessory to the murder he had committed.

but you couldn’t care less about it, because goddamn, this was the best fuck you had gotten in your entire life. 

[acowardinmordor]

Hold up a vision of the angsty admirer au just struck me. It’s a little skip ahead. Sorry.

The party still breaks into the counselors office and sees the records and puts together that it isn’t random. They put together that it’s about guilt and depression and self hatred.

They all, rationally, assume it’s because he’s repeating senior year.

Lucas, though.

Sweet, kind, supportive Lucas, who has a box of letters apologizing blindly to someone that Eddie had intentionally torn apart. Lucas, who has barely held his tongue since that day at Hellfire. Lucas, who admires the hell out of Steve, wants to be him, and who thinks he made it worse. Who thinks he’s at fault for Steve being cursed.

Somewhere in between Steve getting out of Vecnas powers, and this, Chrissy died (sorry babe) and it’s not pinned on Eddie, but that’s where suspicion is leaning.Nancy and Robin talked to him, convinced him that Steve is fine, explained a small part of the upside down, and told him to keep his head down, begged him to just stay in the trailer, and above all, not to get involved further.

Steve is shutting down on them, and after they saw the notes about Chrissy and Fred, they’re pushing him. Which is making it worse. Robin is spiraling, Max is furious. Dustin is on the edge of hysterical.

For whatever reason, they need to talk to Eddie again. Information about Victor Creel probably. Since most of them are freaked out by Steve, it’s only Nancy and Lucas that go. Yeah, Lucas should have been listening while Nancy talked through a plan of what they were and were not going to tell Eddie, but he wasn’t. He tells her that after Eddie’s, they need to go by his house, that he has something to help Steve.

Pull up at the trailer, and Lucas cracks down the center. He runs from Nancy’s car, shoves open the door, immediately steps inside, and fucking decks Eddie. Puts him on the ground in one hit and because his entire hand now hurts, Lucas is looking for something to use as a replacement for a bat. It’s easy math for him. He knows why Vecna was able to go after Steve. He knows that if it wasn’t for this asshole with his caste assumptions about high school, Steve would be safe.

Hawkins wouldn’t be, Lucas knows that, but they’d have Steve, and if they have Steve, then they — then Lucas will feel like they’re going to survive.

Nancy stops him before Lucas can actually beat Eddie with an ashtray.

“If you hadn’t said that to him! If you actually looked at people! If you listened to them and trusted us! If you could just understand that not everyone has to choose a side, he would be safe! He’s dying and it’s your fault, Eddie! He’s gonna die, and it’s going to be because you never really see anyone, just the person you think they’re supposed to be!”

Eddie hasn’t been looped in yet. He doesn’t know what Lucas is talking about, but it’s Lucas screaming at him, which is enough for the pieces to come closer. It’s not like Eddie hasn’t been thinking about the way Steve said he wanted to sleep. It’s been half his brain at any second of the day. He’d broken every promise to his secret admirer, thrown insults like blades at every soft spot Steve has, and until that Friday, he thought he was standing on the moral high ground.

Yeah. It’s enough for Eddie to realize that the curse is because of what he did to Steve. On the ground, looking up at a freshman who loves Steve more than Eddie had the chance to, Eddie can’t even find the words to start an apology.

Nancy yanks Lucas back farther. She doesn’t help Eddie up though. She’s also damn smart, and can put clues together.

“Man, you need to—“ Eddie starts, talking to the other person in the room who, Lucas entirely missed in the tunnel vision of his rage. “—you gotta come back later. Pay me later.” He scrambles to the bathroom and slams the door.

“Yeah, i guess I… Lucas, make sure you ice that hand, your form was no good.”

Finally, Lucas turns, along with Nancy, to find Patrick, fidgeting and uncomfortable, with a little baggie in his hand. He pulls some cash from his wallet, drops it on the table.

And look. Lucas would love to stop and talk to his teammate, who is looking very messed up. Who obviously needs someone. But Steve is going to die, and he can’t think beyond that fact. Honestly, Nancy is the same.

That’s why they’ve started a whispered discussion of how fast they can get answers and leave when they notice that Patrick is frozen in place, two steps from the door.

Link post

[vigilante-3073]

Law & Medicine

James Wilson x Female Attorney Reader

Part 2

Summary: House finally meets Wilson's fiancée. He quickly learns that she is not someone to mess around with.

TW: Dating, lying, mentions of money/debts, House being House.

House looked up from his computer screen when he heard a soft knock on the glass door to his office. A young woman stood in the doorway with a briefcase in her hand.

"Hello, you must be Doctor House. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," Y/N greeted politely. She made her way over, holding her hand out for him to shake.

House took her hand, giving it a gentle shake before releasing it, "I'm glad that I could get ahold of you. I'm in a pretty bad spot right now and I've heard that you're the best," House said.

Y/N nodded, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk, "Separations can be difficult and they definitely bring out the worst in people," Y/N replied.

House nodded, "I'm having a pretty difficult separation and my ex-wife wants to take everything I have. She's been a stay at home mom for our six kids and I will do anything to keep those sweet little rugrats," House said with a smile.

Y/N nodded, "A family man will definitely appeal to the court. You also have the advantage of making quite a bit of money because of your position. You're definitely going to have to pay some alimony, but I'll do what I can to keep it reasonable," She said, pulling out a leather portfolio and flipping it open. Y/N pulled a pen from the holder before beginning to jot down notes on her notepad.

"I just- I thought we would be together forever. Our marriage started out all hot and heavy before things fell apart. W-we haven't even made love for almost two years. It's just been so hard," House said shakily, sniffling as he struggled to contain his ficticious emotions.

"To me, you seem like a sweet man who's going through a hard time, Doctor. I will do everything in my power to make sure that you keep your kids. Can you tell me their names and ages?" Y/N asked, preparing her pen.

House hesitated, "Of course. There's Ben, he's ten, James, he's twelve, Barbara, she's three, Louis, he's two and our sweet little Fernando. He's three and it's also up for debate if he's actually mine," House said.

"What about the sixth child?" Y/N asked.

"Oh, that's David, he's nine," House replied easily.

"Ben and Barbara are twins, I assume?" Y/N questioned, looking down at her notepad.

"Yeah, it was a hard pregnancy for the wife," House said.

Y/N set her pen down, "You said Ben was ten and Barbara was three," She said, closing her folder.

"Yes, lots of kids and hard to remember," House said.

"Listen, Doctor House, I am not an idiot like you'd clearly like to think," Y/N stated.

House narrowed his eyes, "Wilson told you, didn't he?" House questioned.

"He did... He loves me and didn't want me walking into something that I was unequipped to handle, but he doesn't know the kind of people that I deal with on a daily basis. I can smell bullshit from a mile away and you absolutely reek of it, honey," Y/N said.

She tucked her portfolio into her bag and zipped it up before sitting back in her seat.

"So, do you have any real questions to ask me or would you like to continue spinning bullshit about your fictional family?" Y/N questioned.

House watched her for a second, "I like you," He said.

Y/N smirked, "Glad to hear it," She replied.

...

Y/N was sitting at the table, typing away on her laptop as she replied to various emails from coworkers and clients. Wilson made his way over to the dinner table, setting two plates of pasta down before taking a seat across from his fiancée.

Y/N closed her laptop and pushed it aside, "Thank you for cooking tonight, honey," She said, picking up her fork.

"Of course, it's the least I could do since you had to deal with House," Wilson said.

Y/N smirked, "He's not as clever as he thinks he is. I let him talk for enough time that I can bill him so I doubt he'll try anything like that with me again," She said.

"You sent him a bill?" Wilson smiled, Y/N nodded.

"You're amazing," He said.

"Hopefully he can afford it. Apparently he has six kids and a crazy ex," Y/N smiled.

Wilson laughed, "House seriously made up a whole story to try and mess with you?" He asked.

"Yeah, he's definitely got a screw loose or something. He folded immediately when I called him out on it though," Y/N said, taking a bite of her food.

Wilson watched her with a soft smile, she looked up at him curiously when she realized that he was watching her.

"What?" She questioned.

"He came to talk to me after you left," Wilson said.

"What did he say?" Y/N asked, taking a sip of her water.

"He likes you... He said that he thinks you're good for me," Wilson said.

"Is that a cause for concern?" Y/N questioned, setting her glass down on the table.

"Well, I don't know because he's never liked any of my significant others before you," Wilson said.

"Seriously?" Y/N asked, her tone suddenly becoming serious.

"Yeah," Wilson said.

She sat back in her seat, "I thought he was just a manipulative ass," Y/N stated.

"Well, most of the time he is. Somewhere in all of his craziness, he cares about me and that was his way of showing it," Wilson said.

"You're kind of a package deal then, huh?" Y/N asked.

"I think so... Does that bother you?" He asked.

Y/N shrugged, "I don't mind. As long as he doesn't think he gets free legal consultations because he seems like a guy who gets into some shady stuff," She said, taking another bite of her pasta.

"How did you know that?" Wilson asked.

"It's my job, honey. He also seems like the type to borrow thousands and never pay his debts," Y/N replied.

Wilson stared at her in shock, "It's like you're a wizard," He mumbled.

Y/N set down her fork, "How much does he owe you?" She asked.

"He bought a motorcycle," Wilson admitted softly.

Y/N grabbed her phone and stood up from the table, "Where are you going?" Wilson questioned.

"I just need to make a quick call. I'll be right back," Y/N said.

She made her way out of the room, Wilson watched the clock closely as he waited for her to return. Y/N came back to the table after less than five minutes and sat back down, she picked up her fork and returned to her meal.

"What did you do?" Wilson questioned.

"You'll find out tomorrow," Y/N replied simply.

...

Wilson read through the morning paper as he sipped on a coffee and ate a bagel. The hospital cafeteria was busy, the quiet chatter of staff and visitors filling the room.

Wilson kept his eyes focused on the story he was reading as someone sat down across from him. Wilson set aside his paper when he finished reading, looking up to find House sitting across from him.

"Is everything okay?" Wilson asked, House looked around before pulling an envelope from his blazer.

House set the envelope down and slid it across the table to his friend. Wilson raised an eyebrow before he picked up the envelope and opened it, eyes widening when he saw the stack of hundred dollar bills inside.

"All the money I owe you and your fiancée," House said.

"What? Are you serious?" Wilson questioned, House nodded.

"What did she say to you?" Wilson asked curiously.

House shifted uncomfortably, "Doesn't matter," He muttered, grabbing the other half of Wilson's bagel.

Wilson watched him as he took a bite, avoiding eye contact with his friend as he chewed.

"I know she called you last night... What did she say?" Wilson pressed.

House shook his head, "Don't mess with that woman," He stated.

House tossed the bagel back onto Wilson's plate before standing up from the table. He left without another word and Wilson wasn't even sure what to make of the interaction.

Wilson couldn't help but wonder what Y/N said to make House fork over almost $10,000 without any argument. He went through his day as usual and stepped out during his lunch break to deposit the funds into his bank account.

Wilson stopped to purchase a bottle of champagne on his way home before he began cooking Y/N's favorite meal. Wilson stepped out of the kitchen when he heard her key slide into the lock on the apartment door.

Y/N stepped into the apartment, setting her briefcase down and taking off her coat. Y/N took off her heels with a relieved sigh before looking up at her fiancé.

"Is everything okay?" Y/N questioned nervously.

"He paid me... House paid me for everything and he even paid you back too," Wilson said.

"Oh, good," Y/N said.

"Very very good. You are amazing and I love you so much," Wilson said, taking her hands in his.

"I love you too, baby," She smiled.

Wilson leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss, "Why don't you get changed into something comfy because I may or may not have some bubbly for us to share," Wilson offered, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I didn't even do that much for you," Y/N laughed softly.

"You did more in one five minute phone call than I have managed in five years," Wilson said.

"You're lucky that I don't mind being spoiled," Y/N teased, pressing another quick kiss to his lips.

Wilson watched her walk into the bedroom with a smile. He had no doubt that she was the one for him and he was excited to make it official.

It was also nice to finally have someone who would stand up for him, even if he would never find out how she managed to get House to cough up $10,000.

Maybe he didn't need to know.

[midnightsmusings]

-Kneel, Alpha- Pt. 2

I did it! This was harder than expected, getting the dynamics right with Ghost's reluctance to accept his submission. Nevertheless! Smut is here: (although I apologize I didn't mean for it to be this LONG I just had so much to say about these two)

This is WAY different than the wip I posted so enjoy that as a little peek into how my brain works I guess?

-CW: 18+ MDNI, handjob, top omega Soap, bottom alpha Ghost, Ghost's a little mean to himself

Ghost swallowed, groaning as Soap's hand squeezed. He was waiting for the laughter at the way an alpha was acting needy from an Omega snarling and shouting at him.

Yet when he glanced up after the silence became too agonizing he didn't find disgust. Instead Ghost watched as the realization on Soap's face quickly turned to pure want.

Ghost let out another sound, embarrassingly whinier than the last one as that dark gaze trailed down to his lap. Flushing under his mask Ghost squirmed knowing even through the humiliation and stress of this whole ordeal his pants were still tight. Straining up against the warm palm.

"I can't be anything like what an alphas supposed to be" Ghost muttered through a clenched jaw. Still trying to save face even with the omega's hand squeezing his clothed cock. His voice was tight as everything he'd been holding back was now out. Ghost felt flayed open and exposed now, seen as the sorry excuse for an alpha he was.

"You're everything I want in an alpha ye old fashioned git" Soap finally said, his own voice lowered and equally strained. This was how Ghost chose to explain? Make him feel up his bulge? God Soap was hopelessly in love with him.

Soap couldn't resist giving another squeeze, just to hear that low groan again, to see those eyes roll and feel Ghost's length twitch.

"Ye think..after a life of me being told to quiet down, to be more submissive I'd fall for a partner who would want ta' tell me the same thing?"

Soap sighs fondly, anger flooding out of him. He figured the man brushing him off was another part of that front he put up, gruff and unapproachable. Figured Ghost was wary of letting his guard down after the shit he's been through. Soap never guessed it was because the alpha would melt so easily at a sharp tone and a some rough handling. Would hate that side of himself.

Soap knew a talk needed to happen. The stubborn alpha wasn't in a place to voice his wants, probably wouldn't be without a lot of work.

So, he leaned back and lifted his hand off the cock that was just begging to be rubbed raw. Soap's own length hardening at the low pained whine Ghost let out from the full loss of touch.

"Och I know" he cooed sweet and teasing at the halfhearted glare sent his way before turning more serious, gaze sharpening and taking in each minuscule reaction.

"Now yer gonna go shut and lock that door" Soap said with a commanding tilt as he jerked his head towards the still wide open door of Ghost's office.

Ghost sat, mind whirling as he looked up at Soap, thinking of nothing but his ache for relief and the man's commanding tone. Eventually his mind cleared in understanding.

It was an out. Soap was giving him an out.

A subtle one, but one nonetheless.

Ghost stood and walked stiffly to the door, body tense warring with himself between using this option and walking out that door...or shutting it and accepting he was a soft and shite alpha.

Soap watched with bated breath as Ghost hesitated, gloved hand tight around the knob before the man finally shut the door and locked it with a loud click. Soap watches with a grin as he turned, looking surprisingly bashful.

"Good lad, come sit that pretty arse back down" Soap commanded kicking the chair out towards him with a smirk. His blood was thrumming and scent deepening with arousal at the sight of the large alpha following his orders so well, even if he was still putting up that bratty act.

Ghost let out a soft growl, irritated the way his cheeks heated up at that praise but stomped over. Sure he shut that door, signaled he wanted this but that didn't mean he could stomach acting like an obedient welp.

"Isn't that what you are though?" His mind helpfully supplied.

As soon as Ghost slumped back in the chair Soap reached his free hand up to grasp his angled jaw, tugging at the fabric of his mask.

Ghost felt the fabric sliding over his skin, only reacting with a snapping of teeth just shy of Soap's fingers but otherwise letting him tug it up.

He couldn't hide the flush deepening on his half exposed face at Soap's teasing chuckle from his halfhearted attempt.

"Bite me if ye want but I'm fuckn kissing ya" Soap said eyes dark and blood thrumming in his veins.

Ghost paused, cock throbbing as Soap leaned down. The words weren't a growl or a warning, they were said with a casual acceptance that had Ghost melting back into the chair and his scarred lips slipping open in answer.

Soap hummed as the man went pliant under him, soft pants escaping his mouth. Soap didn't actually worry about being bit the closer he got to the Alpha.

He would wear Ghost's teeth marks proudly and knew he was just struggling to accept Soap wanted this. Wanted him

"I'll bite you if you don't kiss me" Ghost grumbled pressing his teeth into Soap's thumb impatiently as the omega just looked.

Ghost was completely undone, aching and getting exactly what he's been missing for so long. At least he would if Soap hurried up.

With a narrowed yet fond gaze Soap finally sealed their lips together and twin groans of relief rang out. They moved together desperately, teeth clashing and desperate sounds being swallowed as Ghost shifted forward in the chair as far as he could. Soap smiled against his lips and pushed him back down, a warning squeeze to his cock as a silent command to stay still.

"Ye didn't think I was holdin back too?" Soap growls against Ghost's mouth once he finally pulls back. He bit at Ghost's notched upper lip before diving in for another sloppy kiss. Soap was more confident now that he's put it all together. Licking into the alphas mouth unashamedly while keeping his grip on Ghost's cock just shy of enough.

"I didn't-you never...fuckn hell" Ghost stumbled over his words, panting and reeling. His mind stuck on the hand torturously squeezing his cock and the tongue in his mouth. His head was blank, any hope of defending his choices going out the window under Soap's ability to make him feel so small.

The scent of the omega was saturated around him, it wasn't like the usual sickly sweet scent that made Ghost's stomach roll. No, Soap's scent was harsh and smoky, like a wildfire.

Soap just chuckled down at the man, delighted to see his walls crumbling.

Instead of going back for more, flooding the alphas mouth with the taste of him Soap stood back up. He stroked Ghost's spit slick lips his fingers. The touch reverent and savoring this moment despite the heat and need thrumming between them.

He felt the clenching of Ghost's jaw, saw the war of emotions in his eyes and decided to keep prodding. Knew it wouldn't end how it did last time based on the length under his palm only getting harder.

"Didnae not think I might be worried an alpha wouldn't want some hardheaded omega who wanted ta take control?"

Those words finally got through to Ghost, his squirming ceasing as he blinked up at the man dumbly for a moment. Soap wanted control?

Ghost groaned a low pained noise at the confirmation. There was still a tinge of irritation in Soap's scent but under that Ghost scented want and desire. His gloved hands clenched on the arm rests of his chair as he took a deep breath in, his hips immediately jerked up into Soap's hand, rocking with intent now.

"Shite-god Johnny" he panted out, eyes lidded as he looked up at Soap. None of his swirling thoughts would it past his clenched teeth.

"I'd give it to you, anything you asked for" he wanted to say, but the words were choked back by another rumbling moan leaving his lips.

Ghost's actions always spoke louder anyways.

Soap just clicked his tongue at the needy motions, his own cock throbbing at the sight the alpha made. Ghost's thighs clenching as he practically humped Soap's hand. While it took a lot of force to take his hand away when all he wanted to do was take, he had to teach a lesson here.

"Ah ah, greedy" he chided, humming at Ghost's irritated growl from the loss of stimulation. He caught Ghost's thick arm as it shot down to his lap, intending to finish what Soap stopped. Soap just shook his head with another click of his tongue.

"Cmon now Ghost, ye gotta start asking for what you want"

Ghost let out a drawn out groan, head dropping back as he keeps getting denied stimulation. He worked his jaw for a moment, fingers trailing up Soap's arm that held his own back from giving himself the relief the omega was drawing out.

"Fuckn 'ell it's been so long just do anything" Ghost got out finally, skin buzzing and flushed hoping desperately that was enough for the touch to resume. He would die before admitting his tone was begging.

"There's a good lad" Soap hummed far too pleased and smug as he pressed a smacking kiss to Ghost's lips.

"We'll work on mannners aye?" Soap chuckled tone full of promise as he tilted his head down at Simon, delighting in the alpha's clear desperation for him. It was heady, having the elusive Ghost groaning under him, hard and dripping.

"Been achin for it huh?" Soap rumbled, hand moving from his arm up to squeeze over his bicep and finally to his neck.

Ghost arched up, nodding desperately along to the man's words and wanting the touch on his neck to tighten, to claim.

However, what came out of his mouth was a shaky, barely convincing rebuttal.

"No, take care of m'self fine" Ghost grunted his head arching into the long fingers sliding under the mask at his nape.

"Oh aye that so?" Soap retorted with that damned teasing and knowing chuckle that had Ghost sure he was going to burst untouched in his pants.

"Go on then, show me how good ya take care of yerself" Soap ordered close to his ear, giving a silent tug to the bottom of his mask but otherwise leaving it alone.

Ghost didn't even hesitate before ripping the fabric off, body shivering at the command and almost completely coming out of his chair to rear up and claim Soap's mouth, silencing the words that had him crumbling too fast.

"Bloody hell stop teasing" Ghost growled and bared his teeth when Soap pulled away again after a lick to his lips, pressing down on his broad shoulders to settle him in the chair again.

"Shh cmon lemme look at ya" Soap huffed grinning at the low guttural whine that left the man's lips as his hand tangled in his blond hair and tugged. "There's my bonnie alpha" Soap cooed eyes raking over Ghost's face unabashedly, watching how the pretty flush over his cheeks highlighted the various scars cutting through the pale skin.

Soap wanted to lavish each deep mark on his body with a kiss. Ached to replace each memory of pain with the softness of his lips and gentle nips of his teeth as he left his own loving mark over them. Ghost shifted in his chair, growing impatient as his hips twitched up in need. He felt fuzzy at the way Soap was holding his chin tight, casually staring at him as long as he wanted.

Usually it would make Ghost's skin crawl but right now he just felt..adored. It was a feeling an alpha should balk at, should puff up at but instead it made Ghost melt a little. He yearned for this, to be lavished with attention and praise.

Ghost's gloved hands trailed mindlessly down to his lap, a gruff moan slipping past his parted lips as he finally pressed into the bulge there but didn't allow himself to go any further, instead looked up at Soap with wide, pleading eyes. He wouldn't, couldn't ask for permission but needed it all the same.

"There's a lad go on" Soap urged, drinking in that desperate and needy gaze. It took a lot of restraint to not wrap his own hand around the red and pulsing cock as Ghost finally undid his pants, both of them groaning as it was freed.

Even for an alpha Ghost was big, uncut and twitching. Ghost wrapped a gloved hand around the base, as he squeezed his head fell back against the chair. Eyes shutting tight with a choked off moan.

"Steamin' Jesus beautiful fuckn' thing look at you" Soap groaned stepping even closer into the alpha's space, forcing his thick thighs open and tightening his hold in his blond hair.

Soap's eyes were stuck on Ghost's cock, the way it leaked with each upstroke of his hand, still gloved and surly adding a rough texture that Ghost didn't seem to mind.

The prominent vein along the bottom just begging to be licked. Soap's mouth watered, he was transfixed and utterly gone.

Ghost was reduced to pants and moans, words gone to him as he kept his eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to acknowledge the omega standing over him, praising him, fuck guiding him through this.

His hips jerked up as Soap's words kept tumbling out of his lips, hand tugging his hair and forcing his head back up for a kiss that was all teeth.

Ghost knew he shouldn't like this. Shouldn't be leaking precum like an omega leaking slick at being under Soap's control but here he was, already on the edge after just a few strokes and growled commands.

"Soap fuck-I'm gonna" Ghost gasped, words cutting off with a choked moan as the omega slid from his wide open lips to his neck, harsh bites combined with soft kisses were making him dizzy and Ghost shuddered as his knot grew. Pulsing and an angry red.

"Tha's a good alpha, now cum for me" Soap said with a commanding growl. Ghost shook his head for a moment, a low hesitant whine leaving his lips as he struggled against the overwhelming rush of pleasure.

The second he spilled over this would become all too real. Soap stoked this side of him, the side he's been ignoring for decades and Ghost wasn't sure how to just let it happen.

"Be good and cum" Soap rumbled. He noticed Ghost getting lost in his head and that wouldn't do.

He reached down, wrapping his calloused hand around the alpha's pulsing knot and squeezed, relishing in the snarling moan Ghost let out.

Ghost's orgasm was wrenched from him as soon as Soap touched his cock. Their hands bumping as Ghost's worked furiously now, immediately responding to Soap's demand.

Ropes of cum landed on the front of Soap's pants embarrassingly fast. Ghost worked himself through it, panting heavily and open mouthed, the orgasm feeling like it lasted hours as cum steadily leaked out.

He'd never had such a satisfying release, his body slumping boneless in the chair and face nuzzling into the omegas neck after finally softening.

"Bonnie thing ye are, how copy?" Soap murmured tone soft as he guided his face out of his neck, gaze raking over him and taking in his lax posture. The alpha flushed and looking fucked out.

Soap felt pride surge through him, reducing Ghost to this with barely a touch had him clutching the man tighter. Determined to never let him go now.

Ghost couldn't get words out, simply pressed a tired kiss to Soap's wrist that was near his face, the omega's hand still holding his hair in a grounding grip.

Soap hummed, smile turning soft as he stroked the sweaty strands away from Ghost's forehead, leaning down and running his nose from cheek to neck and back, scent marking him greedily.

"Theres a good boy under all that growlin aye?" He teased softly before leaning back to gently tuck him back into his pants, shushing his overstimulated growls.

Ghost just watched with lidded eyes as Soap grabbed his hand and licked his glove clean of the cum. Ghost was sure if he didn't just have his soul drained out of him, he'd cum again from the sight.

"Shite I think love you I love you I-" Ghosts brain chanted like a broken record as he watched Soap's soft lips suck over his thumb, the leather shiny with spit now.

"Up ye get Ghost, we're gonna get clean 'n talk" Soap said after a moment of them basking in the silence and the scent of their combined desire. He pat Ghost's thigh expectantly.

Ghost quickly took his silent declaration of love back and narrowed his eyes up at the omega with a grumble, refusing to move and espically refusing to talk.

"No" he grunted simply sitting and admiring the sight of his cum staining Soap's own pants, the man would smell like him for a while now.

Soap let out a huff, hand tangling roughly in the back of his hair and forcing his gaze up at him.

"Yes or yer not cummin for a week" he retorted sternly with a raised eyebrow and well-

Ghost immediately stood up on shaky legs and followed.

Taglist <3 : @toons-boop-boop

[deluxewhump]

The Fundraiser

Cameron takes Zee to a fundraiser and someone from Zee’s home state recognizes him. Middle of frathouse arc timeline.

CW: bbu, previous identity

On an overcast Saturday morning in October, Cameron told Zee to shower and get dressed. He obeyed, and when he came down the stairs a grey windbreaker was thrust into his arms. He followed Cam out the door of their off-campus house and ducked into the passenger seat of his car. The door was stiff with the cold. He had to pull it firmly in order to get it to shut again. It slammed louder than he’d intended and he winced, waiting for a reprimand. None came.

“Cam?” he asked, trying to gauge his mood by his reaction to his name alone.

Cameron turned his eyes to his passenger as he turned the key and his 88’ Mustang growled to life. He was wearing khakis with a navy university hoodie and his green eyes were sleepy but not stoned. “What.”

A what with no inflection was a good response from Cameron. It was neutral, not fake-friendly but not tinged with warning, either.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh.” He actually laughed as he checked his dash’s gas gauge and rpm’s. The needle jumped and dipped as the Mustang idled in the unseasonably chilly air. “Nobody told you, huh?”

Zee shook his head. A few months ago, Cam would have let him ride in mystery or said something cryptic to make him nervous. Something like questions are above your rank, aren’t they? Or why spoil my fun, Z2?

But lately Cam had been more tolerable. Zee didn’t know if this was because he’d finally figured out what it is Cam wanted, which was not a perfect WRU product but a self aware, would-be equal demoted to the rank of subordinate— someone a little afraid of him but not too much, someone who would give him pushback if he went too far, but submit if he persisted. The other explanation was that it could be some strange change of heart after the time he’d come into Alex’s room and hung out with them. Maybe he just got sick of the performative bullying he’d spent so much of his hard earned money on for laughs, and was moving on. Either way, Zee was just glad moving on looked like more eye contact and conversation between them, and not being locked in a room somewhere forgotten, or abandoned to the brothers he considered even worse.

“Chapter fundraiser,” Cam answered mildly as he reversed out of the overcrowded driveway and onto the street. Zee could smell the car’s exhaust, and something like drifting smoke from a backyard brushfire in the dry air.

“A color run. You know, like a 5k but they dump a bunch of colored powder on everyone as they run? I’m manning a photo-slash-donation booth at the finish line today.” He pulled into a Dunkin Donuts half a mile from their street, on a divided highway dotted with office parks and medical buildings, ENT’s and orthopedic clinics with meticulously maintained black mulch landscaping.

The Dunkin had cream siding and tan trim, like it was trying to blend in with a more sophisticated neighborhood than its bright pink and orange colors warranted. Cam parked out front and absently told him “sit.” A few minutes later he returned with two cardboard gallon-boxes in each hand.

“Coffee and hot chocolate,” he said, setting one by Zee’s feet and the other in Zee’s lap. The warmth of its sides felt delicious on his hands. The Mustang’s heat was touch and go. “How anyone goes straight from a 5k to hot chocolate is beyond me, but I do what I’m told.”

Zee didn’t think it would be that hard, for people used to running in all sorts of weather. He’d seen Dominic mainline back to back tuna melts not ten minutes after a practice that had him as soaked in sweat as if he’d been swimming. Cameron was discerning and catlike in comparison— economical with his movements, apt to go a full day without eating and not even notice.

The thought of food made him hungry, but he was with Cam today, which meant he was on a Cam schedule. If Cam happened to eat, he might be offered food. More than likely though, Cam would have nicotine for lunch and not eat until much later when he was high. He put the thought from his mind.

The event site was already packed with people. Zee carried the gallon containers like dumbbells while Cameron got a backpack out of the trunk and led the way to the finish line. Their booth was already assembled. Anthony Shorey, always in shorts even if there was snow on the ground, was there with his hands crossed over his chest and tucked under his armpits for warmth, talking to a couple of girls wearing white hoodies and pastel leggings.

One of the girls saw Cameron and did what was meant to be a cutesy whine of his name, dragging out the N at the end. She saw Zee and her eyes slid to the boxes he carried. “Ohh, what’d you bring?” she asked, ignoring Zee entirely.

“Coffee and cocoa,” Cam answered, lifting his arm as she tucked herself under him into a hug. “Help yourself.”

There were two races scheduled, he learned. One started at eleven and the second at one. Sunlight was breaking weakly through the clouds as Cam set up their gear— a scannable QR code he taped to the table, a card reader, a cash tip jar with their Greek letters taped to the front of it. A cardboard box that had been left under the booth contained color run event lanyards and t shirts, which he set up tabletop in neat rows.

Zee set up the drinks on his end of the table, closest to the photo booth. He sat back in one of the plastic chairs and startled like an idiot when something touched his legs. It was a blanket, and Cam was holding the other end of it. A quick scan of his surroundings told him neither Tony Shorey nor the girls in running clothes from the next booth had noticed his flinch, but Cam had. He gave Zee a centimeter’s tilt of the head that Zee had begun to understand was an olive branch, a momentary reassurance of truce. Zee tucked the blanket around his legs and torso. “Thanks,” he said softly.

The first run brought waves of color-spattered participants past their booth, with many stopping in to take post-race photos together with their magenta, indigo and canary-yellow faces, hair, and clothes. Cam chatted and sold t-shirts. Zee spent most of his energy on just trying to look normal, glad he wasn’t covered in colored powder and made to run with his ankles tied closely together or something equally stupid. They would’ve if it was a frat backyard event. This was too big, too public. For all anyone knew he was a brother.

As the waves of completionists came through following the second race, he was more comfortable. David Shoaf brought new Dunkin containers and paper cups and replaced the nearly empty ones on the table. He took Cam’s place and Cam disappeared to a nearby booth where Zee kept glancing over his shoulder for him, uneasy being left without him in the way he used to be uneasy without Alex or Dominic. He was talking to a group of guys, two of which were covered in powder, and one girl, a ponytailed Amber Malloy who was not.

“Jamey?!”

Zee’s attention snapped back to the booth. In front of him was a twenty-one year old named Marshall Sains. His brain knew it immediately— provided the name with the face that was looking into his with a mixture of surprise and the specific delight that comes with encountering the deeply unlikely. Though Zee knew him immediately, it took a moment to place him. He rarely thought of anyone from before, except for the judge and his own mother, though he tried very hard to block those thoughts, banish them to his subconscious. There was discomfort in his life that he could control and discomfort that he couldn’t. Thoughts of before— of who he really was, belonged to the former category.

Marshall Sains belonged to before, he realized slowly. Not a brother, or a friend of theirs, or a guy someone knew who came around sometimes. Not a teammate of Dominic’s he recognized or one of Alex’s siblings. Marshall Sains was his friend in highschool. They had biology together, and B lunch. He drove a Toyota Camry, and his star athlete older brother had died in a car accident in 2010. People still stopped him and offered condolences when he was a junior in 2014, Zee had witnessed it more than once.

“N-no,” he muttered weakly. Absurdly. Adrenaline flooded his gut like a writhing pile of snakes. A group came out of the photo booth covered head to toe in garish colors like warpaint. Marshall Sains studied him, his smile freezing and dying on his familiar face, a few years older now but not much changed.

He was looking at him like he couldn’t believe it, like he was looking for something that might indicate he’d made a mistake— a cluster of freckles or the bridge of a nose that was not quite right. Zee knew he wouldn’t find it. He was right, of course, he was two feet away from his friend Jamey who’d disappeared from the face of the earth with nothing but rumors of where he’d gone and why.

He’d rather they all thought he was in prison. Or dead, really. Less humiliating that way.

In his peripheral vision he saw Cameron break away from the group he’d been talking to and come slowly back over to the booth, hands in the front pocket of his university hoodie, not inserting himself in the situation but hanging casually back as if to survey the runners as they completed their race. But Zee knew he was listening.

“Jamey. Oh my God. Dude. It’s Marshall Sains?” he laughed uncomfortably, like he was waiting for Zee to admit he was just messing with him and stand up to hug him and clap him on the back. “How the fuck are ya?”

“I’m sorry man,” Zee managed in his most offhanded, who-is-this-weirdo voice. “I guess I have a twin. But I don’t know a Jamey and I don’t know you.”

Marshall grew flustered then. The group that had come out of the photo booth were trying to pour themselves cups of coffee and he was in the way. Anthony Shorey was watching the exchange now with faintly raised eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” Marshall said. “I could swear…” he looked into Zee’s face one more time, reluctant to accept that his own eyes would lie to him so boldly. Zee stared back, fully committed to his story now that the initial shock and panic of seeing someone from before had subsided. His ears still rang like someone had boxed them from the word Jamey tossed out in proximity to Cameron Byrne and Anthony Shorey and all these people who belonged firmly to after.

“You gonna buy a shirt or something?” Zee asked with a little more sting behind it than he would have liked. Marshall was a good guy. But it did the trick. He gave an awkward hands-up gesture and backed off. Zee watched his friend’s back disappear into the colorful crowd.

Cam offered to take back his post behind the card reader and Anthony gladly gave it up. Cam said nothing at first, blowing warm air into his big-knuckled hands and rubbing them together near his lips. Finally he turned to Zee, which spiked his adrenaline all over again and made his teeth clench in his skull.

“He was right, wasn’t he?”

Lying to Marshall Sains and the rest of the world was one thing. Lying to Cameron was pointless, and it would only irritate him. Zee nodded.

“Who is he?”

“A guy I knew in highschool.”

“Where was highschool?”

Zee swallowed. They’d never talked about any of it, and he didn’t want to get into it here, in the middle of a crowd of people. Cam didn’t like when he acted too much like a mindless boxie, but he didn’t think he’d like him talking about his life before either.

“Kentucky,” he answered flatly.

Cameron scanned the crowd absently. “Mm.”

Zee stared at the fine print on the back of one of the Dunkin boxes, too small to read from where he sat and therefore too small to set off the needling discomfort that reading larger font brought onto his vision like a migraine.

Cam’s hand was chilly but not unpleasant on the back of his neck. It was a gentle weight, and he squeezed lightly with only the pads of his fingers. Zee turned in surprise, wondering what he would find in Cam’s eyes. They met his intently.

“I can call someone to come pick you up,” he said. “Alex is around I think.”

“No,” Zee shook his head. “I’m good.”

Cam gave him a questioning look, and now the pads of his fingers were almost petting the back of his neck, a touch that could be controlling or casual— certainly common among fraternity brothers to clasp each other by the back of the neck like it was a scruff— and turning it into something intimate. His skin tingled.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Drink something.” He nodded towards the boxes. “Either one, just get a drink.”

Zee reached for a paper cup and fumbled with the lever of the coffee box til steaming black liquid poured out. He hadn’t run the 5k at all but he felt like he’d sprinted it— his legs were shaky and his mouth was thick with saliva. He thought sweet cocoa might make him feel sick, and hoped caffeine would snap him out of his daze.

“Atta boy,” Cameron said under his breath, sliding the hand away from his neck. It wasn’t as condescending as it ought to be, or fake, or even really meant to be heard. It sounded something like simple camaraderie, even bordering on affection.

He sipped black coffee and felt the cold air on his neck where Cameron’s hand had been.