#I can’t thank you all enough for loving those two stories like ahhhh
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yeonzzzn · 8 months ago
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GUYS STOP W H A T?!?!?? STUCK WITH ME AND OFF LIMITS ARE IN THE TOP TWO?!? STOP I CANT BREATHE WAIT
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smallraindrops-blog · 7 months ago
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Some wmftd and hades 2 rambles I wanted to share:
Possible Hades 2 Spoilers !
Hypnos with long hair makes me imagine y/n learning how to braid his hair to make it a bit more manageable
Also I feel like seeing hypnos with his long hair would make y/n want to try growing out his beard (achilles sheds a tear when he sees it bc his son now looks like his pa)
Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage reminds me of y/n and hypnos in the pirate au
The amount of angst you could get if hypnos actually does fall into a sleeping coma in the second game 💀 (reminds me a lot of the part closer to the end of wmftd)
I wonder if achilles and patroclus will ever meet odysseus in the second game (how would y/n act if he met him lol)
Imagine y/n and hypnos babysitting baby melinoe when zagreus goes on his runs 🥹 (maybe that would spark their desire for their own children ?)
The wmftd brainrot is getting stronger every day, but I'm glad I stumbled upon this blog <3
AHHHH i love these, legit making me feral rn. Same on the brainrot, my friend. I’m happy you found this blog too <3
Placing my replies and a little short story under the readmore. <3
Y/N would definitely braid Hypnos’ hair for him. Also he wouldn’t be able to cope with how pretty Hypnos is with long hair. Like he totally gets tongue tied just looking at him. He is so fucking pretty.help.
OH AND THE BEARD
I actually hc that Y/N rocked a short beard while working as a fisherman. He was shaved by the time he died because beards are often used as a grapple point during fights so he knew better than to have one.
Until they showed us Skelly I wasn’t sure if Shades could change their form like growing their hair but it looks like they can. (If Skelly counts as a shade, I am not certain where the lines between shades and undead are drawn.) 
But anyway, yeah. Funny enough, I was wondering how to show how time passed for Y/N and was considering having him grow a beard anyway lol.
Achilles would love seeing his son with a beard, Pat too. They would probably joke about him actually being a long-long family member that Pat didn’t know about.
However if I think what happens in Hades 2 actually happens, Y/N will grow the beard while apart from Hypnos. (Thanks depression! 👍)
I haven't talked about it yet but I suspect that Y/N and Hypnos will end up losing each other during the chaos and he is either trapped, helping Hermes or otherwise unable to find Hypnos. He has no clue where Hypnos is and just wants to find him.
Looked up the song, and dude that is immediately going on the playlist. Thank you for introducing me to them.
yeah, def. I’m willing to bet the Hades dev.team had their reasons for Hypnos being comatose. What I hope is that Melinoe still likes Hypnos after he wakes up ( bonus point for everyone if she actually thinks he is the funniest person around)
I hope those met up! It would be like running into that one coworker you dislike while in the dairy section at the grocery store and they won’t shut up and leave you alone. ( i love all three of them, those adorable old war criminals <3)
AHHH. Baby Melinoe!
Baby Melinoe is baby fever on crack, i adore her and will happily fight an undead army for her.
I personally think Hypnos is someone who always wanted kids, especially since he is kinda a big kid himself and would be one of those parents who could play all kinds of silly games with their kids.
Kids were kinda never on Y/N’s radar. There was his own trauma, the war then being on the run. Maybe in a lavender marriage, he might have a kid or two but it wasn’t something he seeked out. Seeing how happy it made Hypnos definitely planted the seed for him. I like to think Y/N would actually be a natural parent with kids.
I can’t articulate my level of love for her so here you go, a wholesome short for making past my rambling lol 
(The short)
The news of Princess Melinoe’s arrival was a welcome one in the house of Hades. It was as if the whole house had transformed around the little princess, there was a warmth, a sense of love, to the house that wasn’t there before.
You were going over the newly increased list of security measures that Master Hades demanded and Queen Persephone had politely requested. You had implemented countless measures leading up to the birth and more afterward but there was always more work to be done.
“Oh look who I found, Princess!” Hypnos’ voice reached your ears and you looked up to see Hypnos grinning at you, the aforementioned Princess Melinoe in his arms. At your questioning glance, Hypnos explained that he was on babysitting duty. 
“Besides, I am way more fun than your older brother, huh?” Hypnos cooed at baby Melinoe, tickling under her chin. The baby girl cooed back in delighted, high pitch sounds that only a newborn could make, little bubbles forming her lips and down her chin.
Normally Hypnos was extremely fussy about his cloak but grabbing an edge of it, he just wiped Melinoe’s drool away without complaint, his smile never fading.
Then, he lifted an expected brow at you. You looked at the baby in Hypnos’ arms, happily blabbering away. You never been around kids, not really. You weren’t sure if the little princess could even see past her small nose. 
She looked tiny and precious. And very, very fragile.
Hypnos laughed quietly. “She isn’t scary, dearest. You can tell her ‘hello’.”
”Hello.” You told her. Her eyes widen, staring up at you with wide mismatched irises. As if she was realizing you were right there. She blinked slowly. 
”Try giving her your finger.” Hypnos encouraged, and after a moment of hesitation, you obeyed.
Princess Melinoe grabbed at your finger with considerable strength and simply held on, staring at you with a surprisingly serious expression, blabbering away in nonsense. 
You made the appropriate noises like you could understand her and repeated, ‘indeed, Princess.’ along with ‘you are definitely much smarter than your brother.’
A smile formed on your face without you noticing.
You didn’t see the soft way Hypnos glanced at you, realizing the quiet hope that was forming in his chest. When it was time for Hypnos to return Princess Melinoe to her mother, you didn’t know that Hypnos was already putting together a conversation to have with you later.
You never knew.
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melrosing · 4 months ago
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add the copenhagen trilogy to the my brilliant friend subgenre 😔 the childhood section REALLY hit like the first two books of my brilliant friend (less of a focus on female friendship—though there is a bit of it—but really captures that mid-20th c european working class childhood haunted by poverty misogyny and political upheaval + fantasies about getting away and strong prose) if u have any other recs PLEASE lmk because i'm also in my brilliant friend withdrawal ahhhh
ooh thank you so much for the rec! my friend actually also recced it to me a couple months back so I think I should really check it out soon. currently im in the middle of an mbf rewatch cos think im already anticipating the withdrawal after S4 💀
I wish I had more recs that hit in exactly the same way…. I liked Swing Time by Zadie Smith which was I think quite directly inspired by MBF (as in I think Smith outright says it is?? not certain but I know she loves MBF either way). and that’s about two black British girls growing up together in London. the first couple of acts I remember being fantastic but then Smith gets distracted by a bizarre subplot involving a secondary character that imo derails the book. still a great final chapter. also rec NW and White Teeth by Smith. Book of Goose by Yiyun Li is like if you simplified MBF to its barest essentials, good enough read but all the way through I was like I knoooow that’s what inspired this. so plot wise those are the nearest things I know but some other books that are maybe not quite the same hit but kind of scratch a similar spot for me:
The Country Girls trilogy by Edna O’Brien - this actually has a lot of similarities with MBF, it’s a Bildungsroman about Irish girlhood etc, studied this as part of a modern Irish lit module at uni and have thought about it often since
Patrick Melrose quintet by Edward St Aubyn - another Bildungsroman about the title character growing up in an abusive household and fighting through the trauma of it in adulthood, this also has an amazing HBO adaptation that I would rewatch if it weren’t so fucking painful lol
anything by Natalia Ginzburg - know Ferrante likes Ginzburg and I am a recent convert. I think her understated and straightforward style is very effecting and her stories are also generally portraits of the postwar Italian middle class
I’m Supposed to Protect You From All This by Nadja Spiegelman. if you know Maus (the graphic novel), this is a memoir by the writer’s daughter about her mother’s side of the family. it’s my favourite memoir I think I’ve ever read and kind of transformed the way I saw my own mother and grandmother lol
Breasts & Eggs by Mieko Kawakami - also has a lot of interesting conversations about womanhood, gender and sexuality and there are scenes in that book I think about all the time
Pachinko by Min Jin Lee - everyone and their grandmother recommends this but imo it is that good. yet another Bildungsroman but about a Korean woman living in postwar Japan
anyway might be loads I can’t remember rn but any of the above I really rec! also I’m like one away from reading everything of Ferrante’s and I haven’t found a dud yet. second fave for now is The Days of Abandonment which I think some day would make a great art house horror film lol
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mocha000 · 3 months ago
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"I’ve been trying to experiment with different types of intimacy and sex in my writing" Ooh ok! "Tbh- I think one of the reasons why the m/c, Tae, and Hobi have this obsession with flowers is because the three of them have a touch of seasonal depression and really really thrive when the weather is nice, so the pack indulging them is very much them helping their pups not feel the winter scaries so much <3" Aww
"Oooh I did not mean the m/c and Namjoon’s little porch snippet to be sexual more like- fond-" Ohh lol "but now that I’m thinking it I wonder who would actually be brave enough to fuck on the porch and why is it jk and the m/c 😂" lol! "sometimes when I’m writing I get very vivid ideas for dialogue and I have to find a way to work them into the story and this was one of those cases <3" i really like them! "I like it when Yoongi’s dialogue is a little lighter- like in the part where he’s talking about what kind of cat he’d be too!" ooh true, my sweet baby.
"the others can’t always count on spending time with each other or together- but at the end of the day the mc and Tae always always always take off each others makeup together and do a meadow report of their days <3 just girls being besties and lovers <3" too sweet omg. "Nothing can stay perfect for long (although I have to admit I was tempted to give them a little bit of something before she passed out)" Noo, oh well. "Honestly Jin is not going to let Namjoon forget that he stole his pup- Namjoon is gonna be put through the ringer by Jin the next chapter. He is an icky little nest thief! The audacity! Ooh ok lol
"The part about Yoongi having no hair if he was a cat is inspired by my cat because while the rest of her hair is fairly long and thick…her tail has always been too short and not very fluffy 😂" Oh lol i never noticed that (unless the cat isn't the gray one u've shown recently) "she’s lying next to me as I type this response and I get to squish her little toes between sentences." ahhhh so cute. i love cat toe beans.
"Jk is like a Jin whisperer irl and in bily like- I love the he just /gets/ him, I think they’re like deceptively close you know? Like there where so many years where it was just the two of them before the m/c 🥺 they’re so cute." aww. "The m/c’s nose/scent stuff is kinda funny- but I lowkey think it’s her body just being like “you are about to get dicked down for several days without breaks, eat a fucking meal for once” like it’s her survival instincts that are making her not able to smell Namjoon because she needs to bulk up before her heat." ohh lol
"she lowkey convinces jk and tae to dye her hair purple when she’s like 7 or so and ends up keeping it until high school- like a deep deep plum that goes over her natural black hair- I think the floors in the downstairs bathroom end up completely fucked because she spills hair dye once. No one gets mad at her Yoongi just replaces the flooring 😭" cute lol purple hair since 7 is such a long time.
"I think with the interjections! I like that it feels like it gives info quick!" Yeah. "If it’s not too much I’ll keep doing it!" yes please. (i only get a little sad if i want more details) "Thank you so much for another wonderful comment! At this point, all my energy to update comes from you and like three other people <3 I know that I say this every time but- really! thank you for sticking around <3 I don’t think I would have kept writing this story for so long if it wasn’t for you! Its one of the reasons why I try to respond to your messages first <3" Aww TT
Before I Leave You (Pt.74)
(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)
Summary: A planned vacation with Namjoon might not offer the respite you hope it will; Something is wrong with Jin and he just wont say what.
Tags: Hurt/comfort, Harmless Sickfic, So much fluff, Light angst, Brief smut, brief mentions of intercrural sex, slick, a bit of spanking, implied d/s, under negotiated scene but everyone is okay with it, Mommy kink, mommy tae, baby dom tae, Brief daddy kink too, implied yandere Jin, obsessive behavior, controlling behavior, discussions of free use, free use! jungkook, clothing control, dollification if you squint, forced caretaking if you squint, nudity, voyeurism, exhibitionism, teasing, implied omegaspace, preheats,
W/c: 21.1k
A/n: Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter out <3 the last couple of weeks have been...not great! Here it is! I will repay you guys with my hiatus by giving you possibly the longest bily chapter ever! The heat arc will take two more chapters! No idea how long those will be but i greatly enjoyed making this chapter the fluffiest little bundle of scenes I could. i did not hold back- i think we've all needed a bit of softness.
Previous part - Masterlist - First part
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You are belly down in the nest when you first come too.
Your chest is pressed to the cuddle of blankets dragged beneath your tummy. Soft and cozy, warm breath tickling the back of your neck. Your sweet sweet omega packmates have made you the best nest in existence. Comfy and plush, you can sense the high walls and the care that they put into the placement of every pillow.
The scents from both of them (milk and honey) flutter past your consciousness, tugging you down and down, covering you like a physical shadow. So sweet you want to roll around in it.
If only you had the energy for it, your body feels like a lead weight.
You're not alone here but you might as well be for how scent-drunk you are. Can omegas get scent drunk on other omegas? Distantly you can hear voices talking. Downstairs? Or in the dressing room? your brain moves sluggishly, not a single coherent thought filling your head other than how truly comfortable you are.
It’s perfect, Jinnie and Koo are the best at nest-making.
Your inner omega is not entirely satisfied until you can smell all of your pack, you nuzzle forward to search for them. The soft fabric by your pillow smells like Yoongi- like chocolate. Sweet and heady and almost melty. The cinnamon and caramel and coffee are harder to pick out, the vanilla less so because Jimin had suctioned himself to your back in the night, nosing at your shoulders until he settled. The whole nest smells like your pack. Smell safe, smells like home.
Someone has opened up the curtains early (or is it late into the morning?) rather meanly. Soft light turns yellow behind your eyelids. You shield your face from the light in a blanket that smells like Tae. Burrowing underneath it and hiding.
Something warmer and less ephemeral than sunlight dances up and down your spine. Arresting your escape into dreamland and waking you gently. Rubbing harder with every moment.
“Honey.”
You huff, voicing your protests at being woken. Screwing your eyes shut.
“Pup” Yoongi stresses. You chirp, a little bratty. He huffs a fond sigh before really putting his hands to use gripping you under your ribs to lift you up gently.
Or at least trying too. You flop back against the blankets limp, refusing to open your eyes. Fingers tangled in the nest like a child would clutch at a well-loved stuffed animal (there are well-loved stuffed animals here, mostly ringing the nest like little soldiers, your addition to the nest). Your body feels so good- listless and tired and sleepy. You don’t answer your mate with more than a grumble, trying to turn back over. Tummy, you need to be on your tummy.
Yoongi laughs, actually laughs, and despite your best efforts you start to wake you do starts to feel more awake. His sleepy giggle and the flutter of your heart is better than an alarm clock.
Why stay asleep when you have so much to wake up to? Your mind doesn’t get the memo, remaining fuzzy and sluggish.
“Sweetheart, you’re going to be late and…” Something smells very very sweet, almost syrupy on the air. You don’t mind the smell, but Yoongi smells a little sour. A little stress bitter- more 87% dark chocolate and not hot chocolate goodness. What could he possibly have to be stressed about when the nest feels like this? All he has to do is nest and he'll be right as rain, you wish you could tell him that, but your mouth remains sleep-slack and pouty.
His hand holds your hip, keeping your legs closed. Keeping your legs from parting. You cling to the pillow that smells like Tae. Intent on putting it between your legs and hugging it and not him if your mate is going to be mean and wake you.
But Yoongi doesn’t let you. Yoongi stops you.
“You’re gonna get it all over the bed and that if you’re not careful, and if you do Jin definitely isn’t gonna let you go with Namjoonie without giving you a scolding. And you know how he likes his scolding’s-”
Your body warms and sweetens, You bring your legs together, intent on pushing up in the nest and telling him off. But it’s then that you feel it. The cold, the wetness of slick between your legs.
Oh
You sit up so quick the room spins. Hair fluffing, all cowlicky and messy all over your head. You look first at Yoongi then anxiously between your thighs where the grey fabric of your pajamas has already darkened.
You’re not proud of the way that you slam the bathroom door in Yoongi’s face. His voice is muffled and worried. “It’s alright- it happens with Jin and Jungkook sometimes too, leaking slick is perfectly normal-”
You whine, high-pitched, embarrassed. cutting him off. “Give me a second! I’m fine just-” You keep your hands pressed to the door, holding it closed. Yoongi waits for a breath and the doorknob stops turning. You can hear his sigh from the other side of the door.
Someone opened up the window in the bathroom and you're thankful now- the scent of your slick is not quite so cloyingly sweet. Cold spring air tickles your toes, at odds with the heated flooring.
“Alright, want me to keep the others away?”
“Yes, please and thank you.” Your head hits the door. Resting your forehead against the wood.
A bit of slick trails down your thigh, threatening to land on the floor. You make an alarmed noise.
“Can you get me some clean clothes?”
“Oh yeah, shit- Sorry-”
There are bathing suits hanging on the side of the deep tub- from you and Tae and Hobi last night. from when you'd used the hot tub out on the balcony and soaking away your soreness last night. One of them slides to the floor (Tae’s, bright pink, crusted with pearls like a mermaid) as you hobble to the toilet. Feeling embarrassed and thankful that no one’s there to see you.
You’d gotten kissy and overheated in the tub. Water bubbling around you and concealing your wandering hands. Tae’s bathing suit pulled to the side and yours too eventually. Leaving Hobi pink-cheeked and watching from the other side- teasing himself with the distance.
Until they’d both sandwiched you. Bottoms pulled to the side under the water. Both of your alpha's working in tandem. Knots pressing between the chub of your thighs and sometimes up into the slick plush of your pussy lips. Neither of them slipped inside because you’d said you didn’t want it- that you just wanted to be teased.
And tease they had; with Tae’s cock sliding up between your body and the fabric of your bikini, sat upon her lap. Hobi’s mouth, trailing down the front plunge of your bikini and taking it off eventually. Both of them breathing heaving and nibbling.
You’d felt like a chew toy in the best way. Soft- turned on, not nervous, not anxious. Because neither of them seemed to have any intent on fucking you or knotting you or had been at all upset when you said you didn’t want to fuck. That you just wanted to be touched and nothing else.
You really liked it, being touched without it going anywhere. It’s not exactly surprising that you’d had what surely must have been a wet dream after.  
Yoongi had complained a bit about having to drain the water out of the tub when you’d come in dizzy and body humming, carefully corraled between your two pink-cheeked alphas, but you know he hadn't actually been upset. Just teasing.
You and Yoongi haven't been intimate in that way since your fight and blow-up and then eventual reconciliation but at least the kisses have been lingering and slow and not without heat. The regular intimacy is back, the cuddling too- and you know it's only a matter of time until that part of your relationship unfurls again.
Neither of you are in any sort of rush. You've taken your last three showers with him, had shampooed his hair and shaved his scratchy chin last shower, with him sitting on the shower bench and you standing between his legs. Yesterday after Tae and Hobi had dragged you into the hot tub.
But he hadn't taken you, even though his eyes had been on you and his hands had touched a little softer, a little longer. and he knew exactly what you'd just been doing with tae and hobi by your scent alone. His cock hadn't been completely soft against his thigh but he hadn't asked or initiated anything. Neither had you.
Granted, You hadn’t wanted to be sore for your and Namjoon’s travel day today. Yoongi is a very very considerate mate and packmate.
Now you sit on the edge of the toilet and pull down your pants, cringing when you see the mess of slick that soaks your pj's and darkens the fabric from grey to black. You wonder if it's just the stress of travel and leaving your pack or if there are other things at play here.
Given how you’d forgotten about your and Namjoon’s first date until several weeks after having made the plans for it- it's a little predictable that you’d also forgotten your plans to go on a little vacation with the pack alpha. Granted you'd made your plans shortly before you’d tried to leave them, and that had also kinda distracted both of you, but tomato tamato.
It’s been three months since all of that went down. Springtime is well on its way. The trees are going to leaf out any moment now and join the blooming cherry blossom and crabapple trees and magnolias that dot your section of town. You can barely walk with Hobi to work anymore without him pointing out the magnolia trees and promising that he'll plant one in your front yard before the summer is over.
Soon but not quite yet.
It’s the blooming trees that had actually inspired your trip with Namjoon; Namjoon got the idea when you’d been driving with him to another doctor’s appointment. You'd been quiet, nervous, nose pressed to the window to watch for trees, and you'd asked him to slow down so that you could look longer at the pink tangles of trees along the waterfront.
Namjoon loves to indulge.
You’d perused Airbnb’s together, knitted close one evening on the couch, a glass of wine and Jungkook’s pinky tucked into one limb and Namjoon pressed close on the other. Tae’s laptop balanced on his thighs and Jin on his other side. Because even if your packmates wouldn't be coming- they still want a hand in the planning. The nosey bunch that they are.
You’d planned it out with Jin watching with hawk eyes and deeming certain packages too pedestrian for you, not fancy enough or not romantic enough. You’d finally landed on a hot spring, up north- apparently known for its secluded views and cherry blossoms at this time of year.
Appropriately bougie and appropriately brief at 3 days and 2 nights but special enough for what Namjoon had dubbed your first anniversary present.
You’d talked about it, tangled up with Namjoon on the front porch under about a dozen blankets just to watch the birds getting fat and happy on spring suet and seeds. Hobi hung up the birdfeeders there just for you and Namjoon to enjoy on your mornings.
You and Namjoon watch the birds often on the front porch, now that it's warm enough to sit out here for extended stretches. With him working so infrequently, you've been able to spend a lot more time with him.
Your love with him has always been slower, gentler than the others. Namjoon loves being delicate with you and loves treating you like the fine china that you are. You feel the delicacy in the way he touches you all the time and in the way that he encourages your slow mornings.
Your mouth rounded out and kissed pink from his mouth a second ago, kissing you when the birds don’t linger near the feeder so that your squeaks don’t spook them. Your shirt pulled up as you slid down the cushion, bare skin that Namjoon’s fingers had teased at. A touch just to touch. Tickling at your ribs until you giggle at him to stop.
Petting up and down your sides, he can’t feel your ribs anymore. Hasn’t been able to in months. He indulges in the feeling of your soft skin while you watch the birds flutter. “I don’t know if we can call May our anniversary, you didn’t kiss me really until June.”
“Doesn’t matter, We met in May.”
You'd snorted, "thats not an anniversary Joonie. What was it love at first sight?"
"No," Namjoon says, honest, but that's why you love him, leaning in nose had pressed against your mating mark, sniffing deeply. Letting out a satisfied grumble. "Maybe home at first sight though. I think I could already feel it- that you and Yoongi were mated. I think I just didn’t want to admit it to myself yet.”
Anniversaries and special days aside. The rest of the pack had been predicably jealous when you'd shown them the pictures of the hotel. Not too jealous- because the pack has another vacation in the works at the end of the summer. An idea that’s only just starting to crest their minds. Why shouldn’t they travel now? They don’t have pups- and this might be one of the last summers they have.  
Tae had leaned in over Namjoon’s computer, “Wait this is so pretty- and for photos! I want to go look at all the pink” She’d whined. Jimin had just shaken his head and leaned close to press a kiss to her temple to distract her. Almost hitting one of Tae’s space buns in the process.
“We can always go to the botanical gardens for pictures honey.”
“Yeah! That way you can show me when we get back! and we'll have pictures to show each other” You’d chirped, trying to be comforting.
Sometimes in the pack, it’s hard to separate your relationships out into their single pairs, beyond soon-to-be mated pairs and soulmates aside. It’s hard not to want to do everything together.
But getting away with the pack alpha for a few days is probably going to be good for all of you. A day or two apart and some time to decompress. A brief stretch so that you only miss each other more.
To have the pack alpha’s undivided attention is something that you’re both excited and nervous about.
He’s taking you to a resort and hot springs up north. Surrounded by a cherry blossom grove that’s earned its spot at the top of several travel blogs as the number one event to do in the spring. It's not a terribly long trip and mid-week because the rest of the rooms had been booked up for the weekends already. But Namjoon had still insisted that you get a room with an attached private spring. T
here’s a cherry blossom trail on the grounds and a nice dinner planned for tomorrow night. But nothing else planned for the third day beyond your drive home. Namjoon had heard of this cute little roadside bakery that he wanted to stop at on your way for breakfast.
You’ve been bouncing up and down with excitement since last night- your singular suitcase packed yesterday morning by Tae and Jungkook- who had demanded you pack a quite frankly concerning amount of lingerie.
But even you had to admit that this is an undeniably sexy vacation. You hadn’t planned anything beyond your walk and dinner, mostly because you’d both expected to do something else for the majority of your trip.
Mostly having raunchy passionate hotel room sex… not that Namjoon even said explicitly that that's what he wants to do with you on this vacation. But he hadn't exactly not hinted at that either with the private onsen suite.
But looking down at your soiled panties, slick sticky, and darkening the fabric, you feel the least sexy that you have in weeks.
“What the fuck” you mutter. Quiet. Yoongi knocks at the door again. Softer.
“Can I come in?”
“One sec.”
The sound of crumpling toilet paper and Jin cursing downstairs becomes louder. The windows are open up here and down there and you can hear him and the cracking of metal pans against each other. Hobi’s laugh. The sound of the dishwasher going downstairs. Noodle meows at the front door. You can hear all of it. Yoongi’s footsteps back and forth by the door. Quiet words.
Is your hearing overly sensitive? Or are they all just loud? 
“Give us a sec Jk, sorry but can you go downstairs for a moment?”
Jungkook’s worried voice, the sound of kisses pressed to his lips, “Sure hyung, going for a run anyway,” Then quieter, so soft that you can’t hear- "Is she alright?”
"Yeah, it’s not nerves if that’s what you’re worried about.”
Jungkook breathes in deeply, and lets out a knowing sound as he scents slick on the air. "Want me to keep Jin-hyung away?"
"Please."
This is decidedly not normal for you. Normal for Jungkook sure- he has the most regular dirty dreams out of the whole pack. A few times a week you wake up to the smell of slick, sweet and tempting on the air and more than one alpha tempted to do something about it. Rewarded with Jungkook’s sweet submission when they give in to their temptations.
You've gotten used to his sleepy and quiet ah ah ah's waking you up.
You like morning kisses when Jungkook's getting fucked, it's almost like he forgets how to talk and kiss when he's being dicked down. when you wake up in the morning to gentle repetitive rocking and the sound of soft kisses. Hobi or Tae or Namjoon or Jimin tucked up behind him.
Jungkook likes it best when you pretend like you don't know what they're doing. When you sidle up to his front for a cuddle. You like to hear their croons of "don't be rude to your nestmate Jungkook, give her a good morning kiss." You like tasting Jungkook's shakey sighs against your mouth. Tucking yourself close to him and falling back asleep to the gentle hum of, "You better not cum, you might get the pup all messy, dirty little omega."
You like to be around when they're intimate, it makes you feel like you're still apart of it without any of the fear of being too much or not wanting sex enough. You've been easing up on the fine lines between all of you, on the more free-flowing and free-use parts of your relationship. Starting to explore it safely the way they haven't really had the opportunity too since before you became a part of their pack.
You hadn't really understood free use until jungkook explained it to you.
One afternoon, All of the pups having 'pup time' as Namjoon and Jin had started to call it- but is really just playing Mario cart in the backroom on lazy rainy afternoons. You'd snorted at his explanation. rearranging the plushies in your nesting nook. a note of skeptisizim in your voice.
"I'm not going to just like- push you down and sit on your face? That seems kinda mean Koo."
"For the record the idea of that is really hot." Jimin had tipped his head back, smashing buttons. Tae had hummed agreeing with jimin and combed her long fingers through Jimin's hair while she waits for her turn. Hobi had snorted smashing buttons and clicking.
"It's not mean though- not like mean mean."
Tae's fingers brushing between his legs had distracted him, touching him to tease and feel how hard he is. His little cock a chubby little secret, but jk knows to stay still under Tae's inspection. Jk's little cursor had slipped right off the rainbow road and fallen into space and Tae's hands had slipped off of him too. making him squirm.
"I just like how it feels sometimes, like I'm yours to have and take." Tae continued like nothing was amiss, had pet through his hair as if she hadn't just felt him up. Jungkook's sweet sweet scent is the only tell.
Tae had winked at you over Jungkook's shoulder. "It's kinda like how Namjoon was during a rut right?"
Jungkook's voice was rough, "Right. It's like- I don't know how to explain it- Soothing? That I know you're getting everything you want from me." Jungkook had shaken himself. "You don't have to join in if you don't want too- Hobi doesn't"
You'd turned to Hobi for confirmation, sat closest to you. his back leaned up against the rattan of your nesting nook. Completely focused on the screen and not on your conversation. "I'm like totally lapping you jk."
"No fair, I can't concentrate when I'm talking about sex." The round ends, Hobi wins and Jungkook and Tae swap controllers.
Tae flops down on Jimin's lap, his arms wrapping around her waist and head hooking over her shoulder fluidly. "If I beat you you owe me a kiss."
"Don't make me want to lose. It's not going to work."
"Oh it totally works you just don't want to admit it."
"I'm ready to Loose." Hobi snorts. and is rewarded by a kiss to his cheek.
without a controller, jk looks at you more fully. "We probably won't really start to do it for a little while, at least not not until-" Jungkook falls silent, and the next moment. Yoongi sidles up to the double doors, peering inside smiling at the sight of all of you heaped close. going quiet. "You know you guys could just sit on the couch instead of the floor."
"Not as comfy"
"Do you have room for one more?"
"Hyung you are so on."
Maybe Yoongi's distance with you would be easier to handle if you didn't also know he's been just as distant with the rest of the pack. Sexual needs ebb and flow, desire ebbs and flows too. Not everyone is like Jungkook- constantly in need, constantly simmering heat. Which is one of the reasons why free use for him is less of a want and more of a need. As much as you like to joke that Jungkook is a bit of a nymphomanic, he really does need that kind of gratification to feel loved.
This- the leaking slick, so rarely happens to you and Jin.
This feels disorienting. The bathroom spins. You’d leaked so much slick in your sleep that you’d soaked through your underwear and your pajama pants. they sit in a heap on the floor. Your panties are ruined.
You don’t think it’s just excitement for your trip. You don’t even remember having a dirty dream. You don't feel turned on, dizzy and a little dehydrated.
You can’t put back on your clothes but you tell Yoongi he can come in anyway. Sitting on the top of the toilet, your shirt long enough to cover your bareness but even you have to admit that he’s seen you in far worse states.
He lets out a small alarmed noise but keeps the door cracked behind him. He stoops to the floor to pick up your ruined pajama bottoms, putting them in the laundry. He’s got another pair in his hands and a pair of clean underwear too. He’s alarmed judging by the wide set of his eyes, looking up to your thighs and then your face.
“It’s just the excitement about leaving.” You don't even believe it as it comes out of your mouth.
He stoops and gets on his knees. He puts your feet through the leg holes, fingers on your calves. Humming.
Things have been better between the two of you recently, this isn't strange. Things are going back to the way they where slowly. There’s been little kisses here and there, laughter too; like when you both went out to the beach to stargaze a few weeks ago. just the two of you, a rare lone outing.
The lights were stark and cold up above and Yoongi's smile anything but. His back against the sand and the deep warm sound of his laughter chasing the winter winds away. A Lingering brightness dancing on the edge of your fingers, starlight jumping from your skin to his, close and warm in the night.
"What did you wish for?"
"Nothing"
Then after a moment, you'd admitted it. "For you to be happy"
"I'm already happy sweetheart"
"Really?"
"Really."
"Guess I wasted my wish then."
"I think you can make another wish, that one doesn’t count."
"Okay." A beat, a breath, a kiss to your cheek.
"Did you do it yet?"
"Yoongi-"
He still takes care of you- although the intention behind each action brews a little more balanced than before. He takes care of you and you take care of him too. You hold his latter when he gets up on it to paint, and hand him tools when Hobi’s car needs a tune-up. You follow him around the house the same way he used to follow you around.
You've begun minding his health the same way the others mind yours- you'd made him take vitamin C when he started coughing in mid-March. And nursed him through the unglamorous episode and illness that followed.
You'd held his hand while Namjoon had listened to his lungs and pouted at him each time he tried to get up when he should have been resting. Made him soup and babied him for the week he'd spent coughing and then cuddled him through his fever. Kept him plied with ice water and cough drops and miraculously hadn't caught the same mystery illness.
You’ve been trying to find a middle ground, a new kind of honesty that you hadn’t had before. He takes care of you now just as much as you take care of him.
Now, Yoongi’s hand hovers on your ankle. On his knees in front of where you sit and you’re nearly at eye level with him. You watch his nostrils flare, and his lips descend into a frown as he looks between your thighs. If it were anyone else you'd feel self-conscious.
“What are you thinking?”
Yoongi hesitates before he speaks his suspicion into life. He knows the power his words have and the joy that they have the possibility of ripping away. It's not just your high hopes he's worried about but Namjoon's too.
“Do you think you could be going into heat?”
Your stomach flips, but you instantly shake your head.
When you think internally, You feel no warmth, no wanting in your gut or instincts. You rub your hands over your face. Yoongi hesitates before getting up and washing his hands. Looking at you in the mirror.
“No, I don’t feel-” Your hand hovers over your stomach, and downstairs some pans clatter, and Jin curses loudly again. The pack awaits. You can hear Namjoon’s voice downstairs too. “It could be nothing. It was probably just a dream.”
You cover your face with your hand, quieting the heat in your cheeks. Yoongi doesn’t say anything. Turning around to rest against the sink and look at you, drying his hands slowly. You give him space to say something but when he stays silent you have to ask.
“Do you want me to cancel the trip? I can tell Namjoon, he'd understand.” 
He doesn’t reply immediately. Instead, he comes close again, making an alarmed noise when he sees the goosebumps on your thighs and dropping back to his knees, putting your feet through the holes of the clean pj’s and pulling them up slowly. Tender. His fingers hover on your calves treading higher and higher to the sensitive skin on the inside of your knees.
You have a bruise there, from roughhousing with Jk yesterday morning. A battle over prime nesting material you had not won (you'd been happy to lose when the punishment was being manhandled and several hickeys on various parts of your body. Jungkook likes to nibble.)
Yoongi's thumb covers the bruise in its entirety. “How far is the drive again?”
“Three hours.” Yoongi’s teeth worry away at his lower lip and it takes him a second to debate it internally
“You could come home, if something went wrong, Namjoon would drive you home.” Someone is coming up the stairs, you can hear the creek of the old wood, and you won't have your privacy for much longer.
You lean forward, hitting your forehead with his. “Yeah. You’re right.” Yoongi pecks your nose and stands up, stashing the last of your soiled clothes in the laundry basket where the smell of slick won’t be noticed.
Tae knocks the same second that you pull up your pants. Just in time, you’ll have to undress anyway to shower- but you don’t need her wondering why you and Yoongi are cleaning up your slick and hiding it from the others.
Tae grins from the cracked door once she sees it's just you and Yoongi, nudging it open with her toe completely unaware of the trouble brewing. If she notices the scent of your slick on the air she doesn't say anything. Her hips sway as she leans up against the door. Hands behind her back, holding something grinning at you.
“Can I pick out your outfit?”
“Something tells me you already have; I need to shower first.”
Tae has been taking a lot more free reign when it comes to you and your outfits. It's the one thing you had been interested in when Jungkook had first started to ask about free use. The one thing you'd been curious about.
You'd raised your eyebrow at it the first time you'd noticed Jin and tae set out Jungkook's workout set before work. Shivered and watched as they palmed and tugged and dressed him before letting him go with a kiss and a small tap to his bottom. Jungkook had that wide hazy look in his eyes, a slack grin on his mouth, subspace or omegaspace or some tangle of the two.
You'd been stuttering and unsure, "can we, can you- would you choose my clothes for me too?"
Both of them, Jin and Tae, had stood up straighter, both of them near purring- like they'd been waiting for you to ask. (You haven't forgotten and neither have they- how you call Jinnie daddy and Tae mommy. Although you've begun to use the latter name more casually with Tae).
You are still warming up to it, but Tae's been setting out your clothing most mornings and Jin's been selecting your pj’s each night. Your and Jin's routine usually comes with a hole check and settling if you ask for it nicely (a cock and knot if you ask even more nice, if jin checks your hole and finds you warm and wet and wanting)
While the clothing is not entirely a dominance thing, that needy gleam in their eyes is unmistakable. With Jin, you can almost tell yourself that it's just his grooming instincts, but with tae- the clothing is a little different.
You don’t mind that she likes it, deciding what you wear and how you wear it. You don’t mind that she finds some satisfaction from it- some instinct fulfilled, some pleasure gained. You don’t mind maybe because it’s her and she has good taste, because she so often chooses what you want to wear anyway.
And because, as she so often reminds you, you can tell her no at any time without fear of anger or punishment.
Panties or no panties? A matching set or a soft playsuit for lounging around and nesting? A lacy little bralette or nothing at all?
Actually- I'm going to go for a walk with Hobi today, to the beach. Can I wear one of alpha's sweatshirts?
Of course you can sweetheart.
Maybe because it’s one less decision you have to make, one more way you can let her take care of you. Tae packed your suitcase for this trip because of this newfound sense of give and control.
It's not all endless giving. Tae often checks with you before she does anything too risky.
Tae hadn't been interested in any dominance and submission before you, the one vanilla packmate before her transition. But now that it's here and it's with you, Tae wants and wants and wants. Some of the stuff like with safewords and aftercare she's well acquainted with, but other things are newer for both of you. You know she talks with Namjoon and Jin about it, you know that they are both guiding her with this and teaching her how to be a good dom.
Many evenings Jin looks and inspects what Tae has put you in, their attention makes you shiver and stand straighter, "what a good choice Tae-baby, my good little alpha making our omega so pretty."
One morning blends into another, one morning she doesn't decide at all and then the next she stands there and asks. "Can I push you today?"
You'd squirmed and sat in the dressing room, waiting, negotiating. Jin had already given you a hole check that morning and promised there would be another one later with a heavy look. like he knew before what tae is going to try and do. You'd needed a hole check too- you'd woken up whiney and in omegaspace, sweet and in need of someone to steady your instincts.
"Yes."
You'd stuttered when she'd showed you the dress, the short short hem, fumbled even more when she told you that you wouldn't be wearing anything underneath, that you wouldn't be going anywhere either until someone found out.
(Jimin had been the lucky packmate. Pulling you down onto his lap during breakfast, his bare thighs thick in his shorts. Your cries of "Minnie wait-" came too late when. His raised eyebrows had drawn more than one packmate's attention as he'd held your waist. Stopped you from squirming. his bare skin against your bare skin and wetness, because Tae knew, tae knew and she-
"What is it?" Namjoon had asked. Tae was doing nothing more than grinning and sipping her coffee over his shoulder, watching the situation that she created unfold with a hungry gleam in her eyes. Jimin's fingers had lingered on the hem of your dress. Glancing from you to Tae. "Why don't you come and see hyung?")
Now she holds out a folded dress to you, “guilty.”
You sigh, but Yoongi holds out his hand, helping you stand. You reach for the brush on the counter but Tae beats you to it, standing behind you. So close you can feel her heat down your spine.
You shiver. 
“Guys I can-“
“Nonsense, Mommy will do it.” Tae doesn’t let you lift a finger. And you guess you shouldn’t really be all that fussy or shy, you stay still while Tae detangles your hair and Yoongi starts the shower and sets out your towel and a pair of warm long socks that sit in a heap on top of your folded dress. They won’t have a chance to baby you for the rest of the week (or at least not until Friday when you get home) so you let them take what they can get.
It's not all sexual, it's loving too.
Tae detangles your hair gently, so soft that you're tempted to close your eyes again, especially with the warm steam filling the room. Yoongi stays close, watching you as he stands by the sink and talks to Tae about their plans for tomorrow. Distant plans that you are aware of.
Yoongi's quickly distracted from actually helping you shower by a shout from Hobi downstairs but he doesn't leave without kissing your forehead first. You undress and Tae washes her face and does her skincare routine while you shower. Chatting to you again about your itinerary for today with how she talks you’d almost think that she was coming with but she isn’t.
Today is just for you and Namjoon, the whole weekend really. She’s as excited for you to have some time with Namjoon as you are, maybe even a little bit more excited than you are.
She’s probably just thinking of the outfits.
You're still kind of tired, still kind of half asleep. The steam in the bathroom makes you feel hazy, Tae has to remind you every few seconds not just to lean against the tile under the spray and actually wash your hair. It's just so warm, so nice, here under the warm water surrounded by the scent of her and Yoongi. You paw at the nob to the shower turning it warmer. Sighing when it goes hot.
You must have nodded off for a moment because the rush of cold air from the big glass door opening shocks you into almost slipping. Your hands hit the wet tile to steady yourself. She leans around you, avoiding the water and turning it colder.
“your skin is getting red!” She's alarmed, but not angry as you blink down at your arms and your chest- turned splotchy.
“Yeah, shit, I didn’t realize,” Tae watches you warily, sucking on her lower lip before she prattles on.
"'You're like really sleepy today,"
"Yeah," you say, voice hushed,
"Excited though?" she double-checks.
You grin, dopey "Yeah."
After that everything feels a little hazy, maybe it’s the temperature of the house or just Tae being close. She moves you from the bathroom to the dressing room giggling as you almost bump into the walls, keeping your towel tucked even as you struggle to keep your eyes open.
"I really think I need some coffee," you say as you rub your eyes and Tae dots cream over your flushed cheeks. Her answering hum does not promise caffeine.
"In a second, I'm almost done. You can close your eyes while I do your makeup if you need to." You try to fight your drowsiness- you really do. But soon the scent at the apex of her shoulder and neck temps you too much and you squirm closer and closer in search of her warmth.
Tae put you in a robe when you got out of the shower but you still feel so cold. So needy. You squirm until you're sat across her thighs, each knee on either side of her hips in your familiar position. Whining when she finishes your skincare and has to scoot back to do your hair taking your only source of warmth with her.
Her giggle makes you want to bear your throat to her. "I can't curl your hair and cuddle you at the same time pup." You whine, but she's immune, "Be good." a small warning in her tone.
You straighten up, blinking hazily up at her and letting her detangle herself from you to stand, until she tells you that you can close your eyes again.
Your head lolls while she blow-dries your hair, tugged from side to side by the round brush. Tae's giggles and voice are a lullaby. The warm air from the drier sends more and more of her scent fluttering over your nose.
She reaches to pin your hair back and you nuzzle into her wrist. “Pup” she stresses. But you get away with it.
Tae keeps the makeup light; a bit of strawberry-colored blush deepening the flush on your cheeks, faint concealer.
She starts to dress you, pulling the underwear up your thighs and hips with a soft barely there kiss pressed over them that makes you squirm. She tugs the socks up to your mid thigh and guides your arms through the sleeves and over your head. The thick fabric feels a little like a blanket over your knees. Tae pulls it down until it covers all of you.
You don’t bother to look in the mirror quite yet, still nodding off every now and then as she sprays hairspray to set your soft curls in place. "There we go- you're perfect." 
Her fingers on your cheeks prompt you to open your eyes and when you do, you find you're sitting in front of the vanity. Tae's behind you, her dark silk robe at odds with the light flutter of your dress. One of her arms wraps around your shoulders, and the other grips your face, turning your face from side to side to show off her handy work. Her fingers pinch just enough that your lips stick out. Red but hazy around the edges like your lipstick got kissed off or maybe kissed on- it's hard to tell.
You look like a doll; You look pretty (you always look pretty once Tae has had her way with you).
"What do you say pup?" Tae and Jin have both ganged up on you a bit recently about your manners. You don’t mind her sternness if anything it just makes you feel smaller and more pupish- both things you like feeling around Tae.
"Thank you, Mommy." You pout, and Tae rewards you with a soft kiss that makes you squirm. her fingers still digging into your cheeks.
"You're welcome, honey. Let’s go show our boys what they're missing."
~-~
Tall dark boots wait for you by the door, another gift from Tae. Side by side with your suitcase. Prepared and waiting.
You giggle and tug her on down the stairs, going a little fast, ignoring her cries of "pup, slow down" The excitement builds until you hit the bottom step and almost slip, the socks from Yoongi fluffy and slick, Tae makes to grab you and the two of you tumble straight into Namjoon.
The pack alpha lets out a quiet oof.
It's a good thing he's so tall and strong, both of his arms shoot out to steady you.
You blink up at him, and his big hands hover on your shoulders. Dancing along the back plunge of the dress. It’s a baby doll style, checkered pink and blue. the front is boatnecked, but the back plunges open, tied closed with a bow. Namjoon touches your skin through the low backline. his palm rough and warm.
Namjoon steps back for a second. Making a pleased noise. Looking you up and down, “Look at you pup.”
Tae just leans back against the railing and preens. You look to the left and into the mirror.
You look so small compared to Namjoon and Tae. Doe-eyed and like something out of a cottage core fantasy in your outfit. It’s a little doll-like in cut and style, the bow on the back almost coquettish. Namjoon’s wide hands cover the open panel of your back. Running up and down again. You can feel his grumbly purr of satisfaction against your chest.
Tae tugs down the bottom hem of your dress. You sway.
Namjoon has put a bit more effort into his outfit today too. His jeans are new and his sneakers are the first pair of non medical grade non-slip ones he’s owned in years. He’s wearing a plane tee under a button-down, just his usual uniform since he’s started spending more and more time at home and only working 3 days a week. You bury your face in the front of Namjoon’s shirt, nosing aimlessly.
He looks every picture of a pack alpha, big and imposing. Unafraid of taking up space. The pack alpha grins down at you, all but bouncing up and down on his heels in excitement. The sight of him makes you leak slick again. Just a little. you wonder if both of your alpha’s can smell it.
Really- what is going on?  
“Tae, you-”
Namjoon’s tongue-tied but Tae just smiles, small, at the corner of her mouth in that special secret way that girls smile. She curls a lock of your hair around one of her fingers. “You’re welcome Joonie”
Namjoon squishes you a little harder to his chest in cute aggression and you feel your chest squish too. Huh, Tae didn’t put you in a bra. you're not upset just confused- obviously, you're gonna want to sleep on the drive and wearing one all that way would be uncomfortable but Your hand comes up, feeling.
“You fussed,” she says, “didn’t want it.” Reading your mind is just one of Tae’s many talents, but you blink. You like the way that the dress billows out, not hugging your body. The darts on the side still give the effect of hugging your figure without it being tight.
You peak up at him and Namjoon's blushing, so you hide your face in his chest instead of confronting it. His hand crests your shoulder pulling you in closer, giving you permission to rub your face in harder. You scent him sleepy until your breath is hitching.
Noodle yowls and slips through your ankles, purring and trailing after Hobi who just huffs happily, watching the three of you from the living room before he continues plucking blankets off the couch, a half-full basket of laundry in his clutches that he ferries down to the basement.
Namjoon's dimples are little crescent moons to the star of his smile when you pull back. immeidatly ducking back down when the sight of him overwhelmes you. “Having fun down there?” He teases.
“Yes,” you reply stubbornly and he laughs, his stomach pushing out against your sternum. You bury your face back in his shirt again, harder this time. Too shy to meet the pure adoration in his eyes. 
“I’ve just got to put the suitcase and my bag in the car and then we’ll be ready to go okay? Wanna get us some coffee?” You nod, and he pecks your forehead before detangling himself from you.
"Tae!" Hobi calls from the basement. "Can you get me your dirty laundry please?" Hobi, "Jk wants to do it when he gets home but I don't want him carrying anything down the stairs." Tae sighs and heads back upstairs.
A loud clang and more cursing interrupts you where you’re standing in the entryway. But it’s just Jinnie. You follow the source of the noise to the kitchen, hovering unsure by the kitchen island.
If you had a good night's sleep last night- it looks like Jin had the opposite.
Jinnie doesn’t look like his usually perfectly curated omega this morning; his striped robe has stains on the hems. His cheeks are blotchy and his eyes are puffy. His coffee cup leaves rings where it sits on the countertop like his hands had been shaky when he set it down.
He's got about a dozen bags of flour- semolina and almond, caster sugar and regular sugar taking up every available space in the kitchen. Along with just about everything from the confines of your fridge too. He looks like he's half way between breakfast and a deep clean. Even though it's already almost 10.
You watch as he sighs and rubs a hand across his face furrowing his eyebrows when he thinks that no one’s watching. You sidle up behind him and he jumps a few feet in the air, “pup- I didn’t-” You nudge his shoulder with your nose (a special little omegan hello). Jin exhales, and his shoulders relax, no longer up to his ears.
"What are you looking for?" It's the wrong thing to ask. Jin puffs back up almost instantly. The mirror image of Noodle when there's a fly he just can't seem to catch.
Jin pulls the coffee mugs down from where they sit, one after another, putting them down a little hard and quick. "The syrup! I don't know who put it away last but when I find out who did I'll-"
You smile, and wordlessly go over to the sink, opening the door and bending down to reach around in the cleaning supplies, pulling it from all the way in the back with a quiet ah-ha!
"Oh, you-" Jin blinks down at you a little stunned. Then bristles, voice going darker. Eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Did you put it there?"
You are not intimidated at all by Jin's pack omega shenanigans or his grumpiness this early in the morning. Smiling up at him absolutely unbothered by his sour mood. "No, you did!"
Jin pouts, gesturing at you to explain, you shrug and set it on the counter. "It looks the same as a bottle of cleaning supplies, and the last time you gave the kitchen a deep clean you weren't wearing your glasses."
"Oh." Jin's lips are a near-perfect circle, plush where they pout, annoyed with himself. "Thank you." You get up on your tippy toes to peck him on the cheek and dart past him to put your sourdough starter and semolina flour away very very carefully.
Jin starts to undo the rest of his whirlwind, leaving out some of the ingredients so that he can get started on the pancakes. The house is quiet for now, the two of you work side by side in companionable silence.
When you're done, Jin wipes his hands on the cloth. “Do you have everything you need before you go?”
You nod, and Jin's shoulders deflate, leaning up against the counter, he barely manages to hide his crushed expression before he turns away and starts to get to work on the pancakes. He pulls a metal bowl down from the shelf without a word whereas he'd usually ask you for help with it- and starts adding eggs to it indiscriminately, cracking them with one hand.
“Jinnie?” You ask quietly. The eggs go tap-crack-plop. The pack omega hums, but doesn’t look up from the bowl. Pausing after the first few eggs to break the yolks with a large whisk. The scrape of metal against metal jarring.
“Do you, uhm-” his eyebrows are furrowed concentrating on what he’s doing, “Do you want us to stay home today?”
Jin looks up so quickly that he almost cracks the next egg onto the countertop instead of in the bowl. “What! No- what gave you that idea?” Jin sets the bowl down and reaches for you, but you look at his fingers, sticky, and the rest of him- covered with flour. The dress Tae put you in is new, and the flour will surely show.
Jin washes his hands, and dries them, while you get two travel mugs down from the shelf. One green travel mug for Namjoon and a pink one for you. He dries his hands in the cloth while he watches you.
Tae's really really mean, making you look so pretty before you'll leave for so long. Three days. That will be your longest absence from the house, the den, and Jin's nest since the beginning.
Jin feels a little like he's choking. Like his skin is crawling. You're not even going to eat breakfast with them. Even back when Jin still had his day job with the Fbi. Breakfast is your ritual.
Jin lets out a shakey breath, “Of course I want you to go and have fun pup. You and Namjoon have been looking forward to this for weeks.” You pour out coffee and then enough milk into both your and Namjoon’s travel mugs.
“I know, but that wouldn’t mean anything if you wanted us to stay- you seem-” You glance up at him, and miss the next dollop of milk in Namjoon’s cup, getting it all over the counter. “Shit.”
Jin just hums and uses his cloth to whip it up. Almost pinning you to the counter in the process, leaning around you so that he’s sandwiching you in on all sides. His chin hits the top of your head. And when he’s done you flip around looking up at him.
“You’re-” you choose your words carefully, “you’re off today?” he can hear the question in your voice. Tucking an errant hair behind your ear. But he’s not disagreeing with you. You continue to pry. “You feel like Mini does when he’s having a bad sensory day?”
“Yeah,” Jin breathes in and out, and it looks like it takes him effort. You wait for him to say that he needs you, that he really doesn’t want you to go, that the idea of having you outside of the nest is not something that he can handle today.
“Make sure Namjoon texts me when you get there okay? And I want you to call me before you go to bed tonight and show me your nest. If you want to pack some blankets or stuff that smells like us you should- don’t worry about missing the traffic- and- and-”
Hobi thuds up the stairs from the basement, an empty laundry basket in his hands.
“Hey no stealing her-” he wags his fingers, Jin pouts at your alpha, and you watch his eyes follow Hobi. You watch Hobi’s eyes flicker down your body and then back up to your face, and Jin’s arms tighten around your waist.
“Hobi she’s my pup-” but Hobi just wags his finger, you’ve never seen him even try to put Jin in his place before let alone scold him.
Is everyone feeling a little bit off kilter, or is it just you?
“Technically he’s not stealing me, technically I’m stealing his alpha.” Hobi senses the guilty lilt in your voice and shakes his head. Jin pecks your forehead, lingering for just a little bit longer than he might ordinarily before he steps back to his bowl, and adds a dark splash of vanilla to the creamy contents.
“No he's going to get substantially babied by his other three alphas-Jiminie and I are taking everyone out for dinner tomorrow tonight so that no one has to cook or anything- we’re gonna go to one of Tae’s fancy poetry readings and stuff.”
“Oh,” you say. You sort of like Tae’s poetry, sort of love watching her play around with words like she’s a little kid in a sandbox. Two seconds ago, you’d been worried that Jin would feel left out and now-
“Can you check the oil in your car before they leave?” Jin asks. Hobi’s eyes flicker to his and then yours.
“Yeah, when are you guys heading out?”
You pout, feeling guilty, “sort of right now.”
“Oh shit. I thought-” Hobi shakes his head, and for a second you think you see something like disappointment cross his features. “I’ll do it now.”
Hobi has graciously allowed you to borrow his car for the weekend because of its spacious and easy-to-travel interior. Namjoon loads your suitcases into the Lambo while Hobi grabs a wad of paper towels and makes him promise not to ding it- he only just got all the scratches from Jimin buffed out and freshly painted.
Yoongi lingers with you by the front door, watching Hobi pop the hood. Your hands tangled for a second and he drags you in. His cheek resting on top of your head for a second, while you rub your chin across his collarbones, scenting him before you go.
But Namjoon is already waiting by the car, watching you with a soft smile.
Hobi tops the oil off and slowly walks to the front porch, almost like he's prolonging your departure by going as slow as possible. You give a small shiver as the breeze rustles the birdfeeders and the windchimes casting your scent in his direction. His nostrils flare and his eyes dart from you to Yoongi who ever so subtly shakes his head.
Hobi walks up the stairs to you, sweatshirt pulled up to his elbows, curling his hand around your elbow in passing. “One sec- wait.” Namjoon rests his chin on the hood of the car, both your cups steaming into the open air. Yoongi taps his fingers against the balcony railing, and for a second you think he’s going to ask you to stay, that the worry of you going into heat is too much.
But then he doesn’t. You stand close enough to him that his elbow brushes yours.
“Take pictures,” he tells Namjoon. The pack alpha’s cheeks go pink and you make a face. “Yah not those kinds of pictures!” But your mate is smiling and that’s all you need for the last of your nerves to dissipate.
“Love you,” you say without looking at him.
“Love you too, please call.” He looks down at you.
“I will.”
Hobi comes back, he’s got a tangle of fabric in his hands, a scarf of Tae’s, and a hat of his. “It’s not that cold.” You try and wine. “It’s gonna be warm at the hot springs.” Hobi leans down to your level, purposefully pulling his hat over your eyes roughly probably messing up your hair. You whine "My hair- Hobi-" He just grins down at you.
“Do you want to take my jacket? How about some mittens?”
“Guys” You roll your eyes at your packmates, but Yoongi and Hobi wear twin grins. “It is like maybe 50 degrees. Jungkookie went running when it was 30 yesterday.”
“Jungkookie runs all the time.”
“He did it in shorts and without a shirt.” Hobi just messes up your hair again, rubbing around the hat and probably causing a fair amount of frizz. So much for tae's hard work.
“I’ve got the heat warmer on already!” Namjoon calls, and you give your last goodbye kisses before hurring after him down the steps.
“Bye!”
“have fun!”
“Be safe!” 
You ignore the tight feeling in your chest as you pull away from the house, ignoring the same way that Yoongi- still standing on the porch, starts breathing heavily. His eyes going a bit wild, panicking just a tiny tiny bit. Hobi wraps his arms around him in a hug and holds him through the anxiety. You are already down the street when Hobi lets go.
"Breath hyung, it's just a few days, she'll be back by Friday."
"Yeah, Friday." Yoongi replies sullenly.
“She’s gonna be fine hyung.”
“Yeah,” Yoongi says, staring after you.
~-~
You fall asleep sometimes after the little roadside bakery. it was just as cute as Namjoon promised, with a pink interior and a whole bunch of different scones and muffins and cupcakes. A small purple box of them in the back of the car sloshes with the movement of the backcountry roads. a full belly of half-finished treats, blueberry scones, and coffee cake muffins, lulls you to sleep in the warm interior of the car.
Namjoon’s soft presence in the driver’s seat and his hand on your thigh does wonders to settle you from the fraught feeling that you’d had while leaving the house. Really, you don't know what you were so worried about.
Namjoon leans over when traffic’s paused, to wipe a tiny crumb from your cheek. Smiling softly. Is this how Hobi feels when he goes on drives with you? Namjoon can see why he likes it- watching your head lull, the soft sound of your breathing, and your sweet scent building and building in the contained interior of the car until Namjoon’s lungs ache with it.
You sleep almost the whole way, only waking when the sun is low in the sky and the scenery is starting to go all moss green and pretty. The country roads are not as maintained here- and the wheels of the lambo start to thud and bump over potholes and cracks. One particularly heavy thud makes you rouse.
“We’re almost there,” he says, and you sip from the water bottle and yawn, Your eyelashes feel so heavy. Gone is suburban sprawl and the lights from distant cities. You bob and weave through switchbacks and steep hills. The thick clouds cover the scenery like a blanket. Maybe it’s mist or steam?
It feels like you too are covered with something heavy and hazy.
The onsen is a tangle of buildings deep in a grove of tall pine trees. The forest is dark green and dotted with bright splotches of pink, the whole drive up to the front is lined with them. it's so pretty you press your cheek to the window. You’re not feeling any more awake by the time you roll up to the front of the onsen and Namjoon parks and tells you that you can stay inside while he checks in.
It’s a traditional style building with thick black tiled roofs and smooth polished wooden beams. Deep dark streams run from building to building, and a covered path crisscrosses back and forth. people walk past in white fluffy robes, clutching grey towels to their chests.
A child somewhere giggles, and your eyes flutter closed, leaning your cheek on the door, nose poked out the open window. You can feel the heat from here.
Namjoon gets your keys and your directions to your room from the kind elderly omega at the front. Your suite is at the edge of the property, secluded and far away from the communal baths that require bathing suits. But Namjoon booked this suite for a reason- because it’s private, you don’t need to separate by secondary gender at all.
You don't even need to wear your bathing suits if you don't want too.
It is far away from the main building though, by the time he pulls the car up to the front you have nodded off again, the warm air tickling your face. Hobi’s hat is discarded in your lap.
It’s really warm here, that must be why you fall asleep so easily, right?
You can feel the bob of Namjoon’s steps, his arms underneath you. The feeling of warm air billowing tickles your face. Your arms weakly wind around his neck, when Namjoon sets you on your feet and you teeter, still half asleep.
“Sorry pup, I just need to shut the door.” Namjoon steers you gently towards the bed and you blink, looking up at him, a little out of it. Yawning so wide and long that your jaw pops.
“Sorry, I don’t know why I can’t seem to wake up.”  
“You’re a little scent drunk- it’s okay.” Namjoon presses a glass of water into your hands and you look around your hotel room.
The smooth dark floor compliments the white walls and earth tones of the furniture. The onsen staff were nice enough to open the doors to your courtyard and warm sweet air rolls in along with the steam. From your bed (king-sized, but smaller than you’re used to since your bed at home is two king-sized smushed together) you can see out into the courtyard.
The wide room looks out over onto a courtyard, a deep inset pool on the floor with water that flows freely from one suite to the others- quartered off between units by high wooden fences. Great swathes of grasses and half a dozen tall weeping cherry trees rim the edge of your courtyard.
Grown in and gnarled. They have to have been here longer than you've been alive. Thick roots push up the soil and the grasses and the tiled edge of the pool on the far side. Long tendrils of pink flowers flutter, you have to stand up and go to the opening to get closer.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Namjoon offers, close behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to rest against his chest while you look out at the deep pool. The dark green tile camouflages the bottom and makes the pink petals stand out. Its calm surface dances with flower petals and steam. It’s probably chest-high on Namjoon at its deepest.
“It’s so peaceful,” you say, your voice hardly a whisper. Nothing beyond the gentle falling petals and your alpha’s breathing behind you disturbs it. Namjoon's thumbs rub up and down your elbows. His nose trails down the side of your throat.
“Apparently the hot water helps the cherry trees bloom a lot more vibrantly.”
“Do you think Hobi would plant us one of these if we asked him?”
“I think he’d do it the second you said you wanted it. Even if it was 3 in the morning, he’d start digging.”
You giggle and relax back into his touch.
They’re beautiful. You chose the perfect time of year because there’s still countless blossoms on the trees and yet big bunches have gathered on the outdoor patio, some even flutter inside falling like snow.
You squeal, and suddenly with more energy, Namjoon laughs as you pick up a big handful of petals and blow them in his face. "Oh no you don't- this is war!" He stoops, picks up his own handful and you go like that, throwing blossoms at each other like they're snowballs until you're both covered in pink. Giggling and clinging to each other. Namjoon picks one from your eyelashes.
"Wait! Yoongi wanted pictures." You send one to the group chat, your cheek smushed to Namjoon's cheek, both of you covered with tiny pink petals. Namjoon turns and kisses one off your cheek, and the resulting photo ends up becoming his home screen eventually.
“Want to put on our bathing suits?” You nod jauntily, starting to move in the direction of your suitcases to get them but Namjoon shakes his head. “Stay put, I’ll get them.” He pauses for a second, trailing his nose up the side of your throat again, eyebrows furrowed. your whole body goes shivery. He crosses the room to the suitcase while you hide your blush, turning away to watch the cherry blossoms flutter in another strong breeze.
But then there’s a crash and you look back.
Namjoon’s standing pink-cheeked. Looking down at the tangle of clothes and your suitcase upended on the floor. Looking from you to the pile and the rivers of pink and purple and pastel lace upended out onto the floor. The lingerie that Tae packed for you that Namjoon was definitely not supposed to see until they actually got on your body.
 You stoop to get them before he can, shoving them back inside. Cheeks aflame. “Tae- she- I don’t know why she-”
“It’s okay- ugh- uhm” Namjoon is so red you think he might be transmuting into a tomato. Namjoon swallows hard, picks up his swim trunks from the floor and you wheel your luggage into the bathroom, a strappy thong gets tangled in one of the wheels and you drag it with a loud squeak until it's inside.
You shut the door but the damage is already done. You let out a quiet embarrassed whine.
You find yourself pacing back and forth in front of the mirror for a moment. Struggling with your fancy dress that’s for tomorrow night’s dinner, hanging it up with a huff so that it doesn't get any more wrinkles. shaking off your embarrassment. It's just Namjoon, he's seen you in your lingerie before.
You knew what you were agreeing to going on this vacation with Namjoon. A solo vacation just for the two of you sends a very very pointed message. This is a sexy vacation- a private suite and a private onsen only means one thing and now at the precipice of it you feel- you feel-
Namjoon nocks, but you tell him you need a minute trying not to sound scared.
You don’t even know why you feel scared; you’ve had sex with Namjoon before, and taking him is no longer quite as daunting of a task as it once was. But you feel unsettled. Out of your depth here. Intimacy and romance are so much harder without your pack around you to reassure you to egg you on.
You need to call Tae.
She picks up on the second ring, “Pup!” she sounds happy and bubbly even through the phone. You even hear a bit of relief in her voice. “I’m doing my nails upstairs because Jin and Jungkook are being loud; did you get to the hotel yet? How are the flowers?”
“Tae” you hiss, keeping your voice down. “Did you think I’d spend the whole weekend lounging in lingerie!? You didn’t even pack me a bathing suit!” You whine. Still pacing.
“Well, I was actually hoping you’d spend the whole weekend getting your lingerie torn off of you but-”
“Mommy” you whine, and she quiets.
“It’s at the bottom, the dark red one with the flowers.” You find it, if only because it’s a bright oxblood in the mess of pastels. It’s dotted with pale yellow flowers and crossing straps that are supposed to tie around the slimmest part of your waist several times. It’s very Tae. Strappy and sexy and so tiny. The triangles are so small, it might as well be lingerie too.
“Tae- this isn’t going to fit me.”
“Yes, it does” she quips. “I measured.” You flush. You’re sure she did actually measure, probably during one of your morning preening and grooming sessions that you have a habit of spending mostly in omegaspace, an eager puppet to her hands. The idea that you’d been so far down, so trusting that you didn’t even notice warms your blood.
But Tae chose this for you, your alpha chose this for you and your other alpha. Tae does often know best. She knows what Namjoon likes.
Your heart rate slows a little. but you don't let Tae off that easy. “Tae- this is just a mess of strings,” she giggles, and you know just from the sound of it that she did this on purpose.
“Come on, live a little.”
“I know but- but-” you sit on the toilet, and she hums.
You wait, sensing that she’s yet to speak. You can hear Namjoon in the other room, starting to pace. You swear you hear him talking too. The hushed grumble as he talks to someone over the phone to someone.
“I’m sorry, I should have packed you something more modest. I just thought you’d want to- I don’t know, tell me off if I'm wrong but- Don't you want to explore a little? You can have both. Being wanted and being treated delicately- it's not one or the other.”
Your breath hitches, and you wonder how she managed to hit it right on the head. You do feel delicate- you've felt delicate the whole day.
“You can wear skimpy clothes and Namjoon will just be happy he gets to look at you. He still won’t do anything unless you say you want him to. He’s well-behaved like that.”
“Mommy-”
“You love feeling cute, you love feeling wanted. Let him want you pup, it doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“You’re just saying that because you like to give Namjoon a hard time.”
“It’s a love language” that does get a giggle out of you. She sounds satisfied, her voice a purr, but she still apologizes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you upset.”
“You didn’t, I just panicked in the moment.” You pause, and Tae doesn’t fill the space with chatter. “I feel so innocent around him, so- not like this. Not that it’s dirty to dress this way, just…” You trail off.
"The pack alpha loves you, he’s gonna think you’re stunning no matter what. You could walk out in nothing and he’d still probably ask before he looked at you.”
“I kinda want him to look at me,” You admit, confess. “I kinda like making him have to restrain himself.” You have no reason to be nervous.
Tae’s voice is a purr, “There’s my girl. What do you say?”
“Thank you mommy.”
“Are you gonna be a good girl for the pack alpha?” Her voice is a dark purr.
“No mommy.”
"Perfect. Love you. Have fun. Make sure Namjoon gets a nosebleed.”
“Love you too, tae?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
~-~
Namjoon does what Tae expected when you open the door.
He’s standing by the edge of the bed looking at his phone, tapping away while you stand, waiting. “I ordered us food, I know it’s a little early but we’re so far away from town, I just thought-”
He looks up at you and promptly drops his phone. He tries to catch it but fails. Then he tries to lean down to grab it and smacks his head on the bed.
It’s soft, so he sort of bounces back up.   
He grips his forehead and you cover your giggle with your hand. “Sorry I shouldn’t be laughing, are you okay?”
“Totally fine. Yup. Totally- really good-“ and his mouth goes dry at the away of your hips walking over to him. Namjoon’s red all the way from his collar to his ears.
After a moment of just staring at you he tears off his shirt, over his head, quick. His hair is all fluffy and spikey when he comes out the other side.  “It’s like really hot in here, right? Not just me, right?"
You blink up at him. Your grin already teasing.
"That was not a pick-up line.” He tries to justify. Panicked.
“Sort of sounded like a pick-up line.”
Namjoon stares at your face, “I’m trying really hard not to look down. It’s taking like- all of my brain power.”
You put your arms behind your back, bouncing back and forth on the balls of your feet. “You can look if you want.”
Namjoon does look, eyes drifting from string to string, words tangling behind his bitten lips. You can hear the growl build in his throat. He crosses his arms, biting his fist in an effort not to say something stupid as you twirl and show him your bikini. When you look back, his knuckles bear the red imprints of his teeth. 
“Sorry, let me start again- you look great. Awesome- 5 stars, want to swim with you so hard- I mean bad!  I thought maybe I should order food, so I did that- order food. I know I should have asked you what you want to eat but I just got like- a lot of food instead. And I also door-dash candy because you like sweet stuff for dessert. but the main house sells buns until 8 pm- not that they could be better than your buns- I mean the red bean buns you make a home! Not your butt- I mean that’s really nice too. I mean- shit- I mean-”
“Namjoon?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop talking.”
“I’ll stop talking yeah. Probably a good idea,” Namjoon leaves his phone on the floor, watching you, blinking like he doesn’t quite believe his eyes. Traceing the strings that cross your body. “Fucking hell-”
In a moment of bravery, you reach back and pull at the strings, and a sound dies in Namjoon’s throat as it falls off of you string by string. You keep eye contact with Namjoon the whole time. You watch him swallow hard, and it seems like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands.
You reach to the side of your hip and pull at those strings too and the rest falls to the floor.
Namjoon forcefully keeps his eyes on your face, But his eyes are dark and gentle, honey and vibrant with the force of his wanting, lips parting in an unsteady breath.
“Fuck”
You turn and walk into the pool, not looking back at him as you go. your heart thundering in your ears as you struggle not to trip or slip on the smooth decking and then grab onto the railing like a lifeline and lower yourself into the dark water.
The onsen water is clear and clean- warm almost to the point of being too hot and stinging your skin. But some part of you, the same part of you that had you turning belly down in the nest earlier, loves the warmth and wants to roll around in it. Easing in with a sigh, looking back at him, your hair tickling your shoulders wet.
You don’t speak, and neither does he as he walks to the edge of the decking, following you as if he’s in a trance.
Namjoon stands there for a moment. And then he stoops, pulls down his swimming trunks too, somehow manages not to trip over them while he steps out of them in the process. And you can’t stop your flickering eyes south.
You lean your cheek up against the smooth wood decking and look up at him.
He's almost all the way hard, your pulse quickens at the way his cock lies against his thigh, the way he twitches just a little under your gaze. you push back and float into the middle of the pool.
He follows you in and when he moves through the dark water in your direction you don’t move back. you let him scoop you up and pull your slick body against this. Both of you bare, both of you hidden beneath the dark water. He feels so good, hard and strong and familiar against your front. The last of your fear disappears the second Namjoon touches you and you remember.
For a second you think his hands are going to slide south to grab at your ass, your chest, or anywhere else- but he doesn't. Namjoon doesn't make to kiss you, he just holds you to his chest, hugging you bare. The same way he hugs you in the morning, at night when he gets home. You're nude, but instead of making to have you. For a second Namjoon just holds you.
Safe.
“You know, even though we’re nude we don’t need to- if you don’t-” he pauses and you watch Namjoon war with what this calls for too. A very sexy vacation usually means lots of filthy nasty sex but-
Namjoon’s pectorals in the water cause little ripples. You wind your arms around his neck pressing yourself closer. The water might be warm, but it's him you reach for and cling to in the water.
“Can we just stay here for a while? Just close like this?”
“Yeah,” His voice sounds so husky, so rough, his nose traces yours, but he doesn't lean in to kiss you. Just holding you is enough. There will be more than enough time for kisses later. “Yeah, I like the idea of that.”
Namjoon takes you to the deep end, still holding you up, past the point where your feet can touch the bottom. The warm water and his warm body around you feels so good. You can feel his hard cock pressed between you and your stomach (it’s kind of hard to ignore the literal third leg that Namjoon has) but there’s no rush to do anything about it as he holds you. No rush to abandon the quiet and the gently falling dusk.
The pink petals that dance on the surface of the hot water like stars dance upon the night sky. The steam rises up around you and water gathers on Namjoon’s lower lip.
Namjoon does not try and touch you, he doesn’t slide his hands down to your ass, he just pulls back to look at you and yet keeps you snug. Your nipples are hard, brush his skin, and you hiss, sensitive. He doesn’t need to say anything, doesn’t need to do anything but hold you in the water.
He sways on his tippy toes, and you kick your feet a little, he has a good hold on you but just barely, laughing softly. He meanders back to where it's shallow and he can hold you properly, an apology in his smile. You've got one hand around the back of his neck, your cheek resting against his chest listening to the rabbit hum of his heartbeat, your eyes drooping a little, eyelids heavy.
His hand pets through your hair, tangling at the nape of your neck. Cradling you close. “Thank you for coming all this way with me, I really wanted this, just-” His arms tighten around you, “Just this. Physical intimacy isn’t just sex and cuddling. This is perfect.”
“Yeah,” you say, your voice blocked out by the sound of his heartbeat- or is it yours that you can hear awfully loud? beating rapidly, thudding harder and harder.
It's weird, your heart is beating so fast but you still feel so tired. so tired you just might-
“I know I don’t say it often, but I- I really love you; I need to say it more often.” You want to say it back but your mouth is just so sluggish, so tired. Your arms start to go slack around his neck. “I love you so much pup.”
In the silence, the gurgle of the water grows louder and louder and louder.
“Pup?” Namjoon pulls away from you for a second to look at your face. Without your arms around his neck, you sink like a lead weight. The water slides past your mouth.
“Pup!”
~-~
(The pack, now)
In the wake of you and Namjoon leaving everything feels a little bit off kilter. A little bit not right.
No sooner has the car pulled out of the driveway and your scent has dissipated from the house than Jin is stifling his sniffles and excusing himself to the bathroom only to come back smelling soggy and hormonal and with red-rimmed eyes.
Yoongi casts worried glances in the direction of the driveway and Jimin and Jungkook come back from their run, with a huff and a giggle of thudding feet on the porch. Having nearly everyone home does little to settle or lighten the mood.
They come inside, sweaty and yet cold, scents sweetening until they don't. Hobi watches them realize, almost comically that the den is two packmates short. Jimin goes into Tae's library room and returns empty-handed. Jungkook looks from the couch to Jin's side, his smile falling. “Did they leave already?”
Jin covers his nose with his sleeve. Scowling in Jungkook's direction. “Yeah, about an hour ago.”
“Damn,” Jungkook pouts, “I really wanted to see them off.”
Jin turns back to his pancakes with a huff before Jimin can catch his eye.  Jimin moves close, but Jin sidesteps him so fluidly that Hobi could almost convince himself that it is just that- fluid and thoughtless.
But Hobi’s not sure. Something feels off. Jin’s scent is too sour, too disjointed like the sweetness and sourness are separate notes for it to be entirely incidental. Jin wrinkles his nose, eyes on the batter, whisking it smooth (he'd deemed the first batch non-palatable and started all over again, under the threat of tears), “Can you shower Jiminie? And would someone open the windows- it’s stifling in here.”
Jimin is a good alpha, just nods and looks Jin over. “Okay hyung, are you okay?”
“I’m fine Minnie just-“ Jin ignores Jimin’s puppy eyes and Jungkook’s and Tae’s (Yoongi still hasn’t torn his eyes off of the driveway) gesturing wildly with the whisk. “If you don’t all settle then you'll have to have breakfast on the table instead of the couch where I know you stinky little pups want to eat it. I’ll count to three. One”
That’s all it takes, and the three of them are leaping hand over hand to sit on the couch instead. Jin fluffs back, satisfied at being obeyed. Hobi stays close. Jimin scents over Tae’s shoulder and then heads upstairs.
“Let me help?” Hobi offers, and Jin nods, sidestepping him once again as Hobi reaches around him to turn on the electric griddle.
Hobi doesn’t play music while they cook for the sake of Saturday morning cartoons (they’re not cartoons- just the episode of the drama that Tae missed last night when she decided she’d rather retreat upstairs with you and Hobi instead of watching it with Jin. And it’s a Wednesday, not a Saturday) the familiar just-seen sounds do not lull Jin into a reverie, because Jin is not easily lulled this morning.
Something is wrong with Jin hyung, and he just won’t say what.
Instead of retreating to the couch to cuddle like Hobi can tell Jin needs, he just keeps cooking. Even though Hobi's usually the one who handles pancakes, makes them into nice hearts and stars and squiggles. Not the weird and lopsided ovals that Jin makes. Jin just can’t sit down or stop moving, can't stop the feeling like something bad will happen if he stops-
An animal claws at his chest, a feeling without a name, hungry and frightened. A wolf backed into a corner will bite and Jin feels claustrophobic- something pressing in around him from all sides.
Your scent and Jungkook’s scents are the only ones unoffensive for some reason (Yoongi's would be too- if he didn't smell so worried), maybe it's because you're among the lowest in the hierarchy. Hobi's is a little better- if only because he smells like soft alpha instead of heady strong alpha. Hobi’s caramel scent is mild. At ease.
For that reason alone, he's allowed to stay close. 
Something in Jin's chest purrs when he gets Jin a plate for the finished pancakes. What a good alpha, what a capable alpha. So thoughtful.
Pack Alpha chose well.
Pack alpha? Where is alpha? Abandoned? Alone? Pup? Where is pup? Stole pup. Bad alpha. Nest thief. Icky alphas shouldn't steal pups that don't belong to them. Need pup. Need nest, need pack alpha, need-
Jin breathes in for 5 and out for 9. Unsure why his instincts are making a rare appearance this morning, why he's feeling his inner omega chomping at the edges of his mind for a chance to get out.
He busies himself making more pancakes than any one pack could conceivably eat in one morning. No matter how many times Hobi and Tae ask him to just rest. To put the batter away for later, he just hums at them and moves on.
It’s like he’s worried he’ll lose his momentum if he sits. Standing in front of the sizzling griddle with a spatula in hand his pout ever-present. Making more and more pancakes even though almost everyone is full. Jimin comes back and takes a good stack. Jin almost purrs in satisfaction.
Jin hasn’t even eaten a single one.
Jungkook watches Jin from the kitchen island where he munches on his plate, not taking his eyes off of the other omega. Lips glossy from maple syrup.
The pancakes pile up high with no one to eat them and the hours drag on and on. Past the time when you and Namjoon should have arrived at the onsen. Jungkook’s cheeks are sticky and round with the bites. Jin says he’s not hungry, but the truth is his stomach is roiling with nausea.
Yoongi and Hobi cast glances at each other over his head, at least whenever Yoongi tares his focus away from the driveway.
Jin hyung might be inconsolable, but Yoongi's distress is a little more manageable. He steps close as they wash dishes, bumping elbows and trying to catch the beta's eye. “Want to go for a drive later hyung?”
If Hobi asked you he knows you’d be up and out the door without another word. But Yoongi is not you. Yoongi just glances, looking from Hobi to the front door nervously.
Something is definitely up.
After a moment Yoongi just shakes his head, and Hobi tries not to feel a little disappointed. “Sorry Daisy, just-” Something flickers across Yoongi’s face. He’s really bad at keeping secrets, Hobi doesn't know how he kept the whole mafia thing under wraps for so long. His concern for you is so palpable that Hobi almost wants to call you just to alleviate it.
(That wouldn't be right, the whole pack had agreed to leave your and Namjoon's time alone, to give you both space this weekend. It's okay. It's going to be okay; they'll survive.)
(This sucks, not having everyone togeather sucks, everything sucks.)
Maybe Hobi doesn't understand Yoongi's single-minded focus- not being mated and all. Does Yoongi feel your absence like a physical ache? Or is it more of a wound without any blood? What does it feel like- to have your soul-bonded partner so far away?
The beta hums, looking back out the window. Noodle is out there, in the middle of the cul-de-sac staring yoongi down through the kitchen window.
Yoongi flinches. "Jesus Christ that fucking cat-"
Hobi glances up and smiles. Noodle's tail goes up and he trots to the front door at the sight of Hobi in the window. Hobi snorts, "He's just like you waiting for her to come home."
“He is not like me, if I was a cat I'd be less fluffy. And probably black."
"Whatever you say hyung."
Jin snorts, getting in on it, acting normal for the first time in hours and Hobi wants to sag against the countertop in relief. "You'd have a rat tail. it would have like no hair."
"Would not"
"Would too-"
Jimin's footsteps thunder down the stairs. "I'd be a Calico!"
"You'd be a munchkin Minnie- not a calico."
"Can I be a Norwegian forest cat? The orange ones? They're so pretty!"
Tae prattles on about Warrior Cats, one of the first series that she ever read, and everyone lets her talk about the story because everyone is sort of hopelessly in love with Tae. As the only girl home right now- she deserves a little bit of indulging.
Jungkook stays silent, watching Jin. It's a little unnerving like Noodle watching Yoongi through the open window. Jin ignores him.
Hobi puts the bowl of pancake batter to the side. Reaching out to tangle his hand with Yoongi, kicking a hip against the counter. “You sure getting out of here might not help you for a little bit?” It's a weak offering even to Hobi's own ears. Yoongi tips his head to the TV.
"It's just getting good, maybe- maybe later?" Hobi hums in agreement, later he can handle. Later still means there might be more instead of outright rejection. 
On the screen, the K-drama villain has a predictable meltdown about a trivial work conflict. Tae sits with her legs folded under her at rapt attention.
There is a brush between her and Jimin on the couch. Hobi wishes he could capture the way that Jimin is looking at her and save it to show you. He's drinking in her little ohs and ahs like they're ambrosia as he combs her hair back and does her little French braids. Jimin has been practicing. Hobi watches as he delicately tucks her little baby hairs into the twist, not missing a single one.
Tae's bubblegum mouth widens at the love confession on screen. "I knew it! I knew he couldn't have secondary lead syndrome!" Jimin just huffs letting Tae shift moving with her before the braids have a chance to pull out of his hands.
"You were right" he agrees, "I shouldn't have been suspicious." Tae glances back at him, smiles in that told you so but I'm not going to say it way, and then turns back. Hobi smiles a little; he’s so down bad.
Jungkook sits at the kitchen island instead of the couch, alternating between watching the TV and watching Jin. Eyes bright with suspicion.
Jin flips each of the pancakes in quick secession, goes back to whipping up fresh batter, and then goes back to flipping so quick that it almost gives Hobi whiplash. Yoongi notices it too, goes over to Jin’s side trying to touch his elbow but is met with a short-tempered glare.
“Jinnie honey, I think you’ve made enough pancakes.”
Jin scoffs and continues, it doesn’t matter that it’s well into the afternoon now, that really- they could and should be making dinner at this point. The whole day has come and gone with the pack just like this, cooking pancakes and watching Jin like he’s a ticking time bomb.
“Just one more-” Yoongi sighs. Jin goes back to flipping the pancakes. Doing it with too much force, too much finesse.
Jin tries to flip one and misses. It lands batter-side down on the floor with a wet thwack.
Hobi, Yoongi, Jungkook, and Jin all look at it for a second. And then Jin sort of predictably- sort of out of nowhere, bursts into tears.
“Hyung? Hyung, what’s up? Hey don’t-"
Jin scrubs at his eyes angrily, shaking his head and stopping Hobi from cupping his cheeks. Side-stepping Yoongi’s out-stretched hands, and slapping the entire metal bowl of pancake batter (still a quarter full) into the sink with a loud clang of dishes and ceramic. Maybe something breaks.
He waves off Hobi’s hands, big rivulets carving their way down his cheeks.
Jimin reaches to pause the drama. Getting up in about two seconds, detangling himself from Tae with a startled, “hyung?”
Jungkook huffs and everything feels dissonant. How is it that everything feels off with just you and Namjoon gone? Everyone is a little on edge. If Namjoon were here he’d just hug Jin and everything would be fine. If you were here- you’d bound up between both Hobi and Yoongi and make them go on a walk with you to see more flowers and it would be just that- easy and effortless.
This is not easy, and the effort is palpable. The way that Jin has to steady his breath and articulate his words. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine just-”
Jin shares a look with Yoongi and Yoongi looks away.
Now Hobi really feels left out, hands tightening, looking from one packmate to another, “what’s wrong? What aren’t you guys saying? Why are you crying?”
Jungkook’s lips smack together with the sound of syrup sticking to his plush lips. His fork scrapes dully against his plate and Hobi grits his teeth. 
“What?” he stresses.
Jungkook just shrugs and chews. “Yoongi's upset because he knew Y/n was in pre-heat but he let her leave anyway and now he's regretting it” The ice water feeling of shock settling over his whole body is enough that Hobi almost misses Jungkook’s next words. “-And Jin Hyung’s upset because he’s in pre-heat too and just doesn’t want to admit it. Because if he admits it then it means that his alpha left his nest with his pup and that makes him feel sad. He’s feeling sensitive so don't tease.”
Are you in pre-heat? Is this really happening? Hobi thinks back to how you’d looked when you’d left; How you’d looked cold just standing in the kitchen, looked a little ashen too- like you hadn’t been able to wake up all the way.
You hadn’t looked like you were going into pre-heat this morning- granted going into heat looks a little different on every omega but you were nothing like Jin is now; snappish, overstimulated, bratty. If anything, you’d just looked tired and a little cold. almost like…
Almost like your body was telling you to stay put. To stay and nest where it’s safe.
Only you hadn’t listened, and now you're three hours away from them with only one alpha instead of the many you'll need.
Hobi feels so many things in quick succession. One second shocked the next insecure and sort of disappointed in himself for not realizing it and being more attuned with his packmates. The next thing he feels is begrudging relief because Hobi's not being a bad packmate; none of them know just what your pre-heat looks like yet. They can all be forgiven for not noticing- Even Yoongi who despite the mating bond has never seen you in heat before.
There's also a possibility that they're wrong too- you could be going into a false heat, or you could just have been looking sick this morning. There is no real way to know without you here. If you actually are in heat, Namjoon will notice.
Jin is another story.
Jin's pre-heats never look like this.
Usually, he starts them feeling needy and over-tired. Sometimes his temperature drops because Jin's body is trying to force him to nest. the same way yours might have been this morning.
Then his body pushes him closer and closer to omegaspace. That's the first tip-off; because Jin doesn't need omegaspace the same way you or Jungkook do. Whereas you get almost babyish, sluggish, and tiny- Jin gets pouty and mothering like a broody hen.  It's the difference between pack-omegaspace and regular omegaspace.
Suddenly, the pile of pancakes makes a lot of sense. Jin isn't just making sure his own body is prepared for his heat, but the rest of theirs is too. His nestmates, his pups.
9 times out of 10 Namjoon knows before Jin does, tells him, warns him and the rest of them, and the pack has more time to prepare. Jungkook is a little more sporadic, rarely ever goes cold before he goes hot, just treads straight into a fever and omegaspace zoomies that slowly melts into a need to be bred full.
But when Hobi breathes deep he catches it- the faintest hint of cloying sweetness drawing them in. Breeding hormones are to an alpha like a moth is to a flame and Jin is only just starting to smell sweeter. He's so upset that Hobi can hardly make sense of the sweetness in the sourness of his scent.  
That's the thing about broody pack omega's- they go protective before they go sweet.
Jin goes from upset to angry quick enough to give the whole pack whiplash. Enough that Jimin has to get in between Yoongi and him with the way Jin lunges. Jin's teeth snap sending the rest of the reeling. Jimin is several heads shorter than Jin, and can’t contain him or the anger of an omega on a hormone high.     Jin's hiss is acidic as he grips Yoongi's shoulders around Jimin, “You let my pup go away, you let my pup go when she could be in heat? Have you lost your mind?”
For what it’s worth Yoongi does not flinch. He doesn’t even move away when Jin grabs him by his chubby cheeks. Jin looks like he hasn’t even absorbed the second part of Jungkook’s message.
“Namjoon’s clueless when it comes to heats! He’s an alpha- he’s not going to be able to help her nest or keep her safe or-” Jin pales, actually goes white as a sheet. Yoongi’s teeth worry at his lower lip.
“She wanted to go, she wanted to make her own choices and she said she wasn’t in pre so I trusted her.”
“She is a pup Yoongi!” Jin bares his teeth. Eyes wild, that picture of a pack omega whose nest has just been threatened. Whose pup has just been stolen.
“She deserves to decide what she wants to do for herself- if she wants to spend her heat with just Namjoon then we’ve got to respect that."
Jin doesn’t like it- how Yoongi’s talking back. He Likes what Yoongi's insinuating even less: that you wouldn’t want the pack to help you through your heat, that you do not need them.
But you do need them. You need them for everything like a pup would. To remind you to brush your hair and be safe and careful. You certainly need them to mind your pleasure and well-being like a garden. You need your pack omega. Yoongi is being stupid. He needs Jin to guide him too- Obviously.
Jin moves, dragging Yoongi over to the kitchen island. For what it's worth Yoongi doesn't fight him or tell him off. Looking just as shocked by the turn of events as they all are. Jin looks a little wild. Tae hides her laugh behind a hand.
It’s not often Jin takes the Hyungs over his lap for a spanking. Hobi just sighs from behind his ruffled apron when he realizes what's about to happen.
“In front of my pancakes hyung? Really?”
Jin holds Yoongi’s nape in between his fingers and bends him low over the counter before dispensing a volley of swats over his behind. they're not hard, Yoongi looks more shocked than scolded. More turned on than upset.
“My pup does not belong to Namjoon!” Yoongi does not push against Jin’s grip because even he can see this is what Jinnie needs. If Jin really is in pre-heat then this is like a balm to his emotions- friable and feeble. Jin doesn't tolerate feeling out of control and if doling out a punishment is what he needs to feel steady then the whole pack will get on their knees.
Jin’s almost teary when he says it “She should be with me- especially if she’s in pre-heat. She’s mine- not Namjoon’s- not yours- mine.”
Other omega’s serve a purpose during the pack omega’s heat; they're there to make sure the nest stays tended to, prepared for pups and alpha’s. Other omega’s are there to warm and fluff and cuddle between the spikes of heat when the need for a knot becomes a need for simple closeness. With scent and touch sensitivity heightened- a soft omega is the equivalent of a fresh breath of air.
(Even then, Jin’s anger at you for not being home is a little over the top. Especially given that out of all of them Yoongi has maybe the greatest incentive to want you home).
Jungkook knows this, he lets Jin have a few spanks, a dozen before he stands up, wipes his hands clean of sticky syrup, and reaches out to pinch Jin’s scent gland.
A whine shocks out of Jin’s throat and he clamps a hand over his mouth, blinking rapidly. The rest of the pack watches as the wild threatened look vanishes from Jin’s eyes and it’s like he’s lucid for a moment. He seems to realize what he’s doing looking down at the position he has Yoongi in. The beta’s flaming cheeks and shocked blinking. The vaguely amused look in Tae’s eyes, the gentle resignation and concern in Jungkook’s. He lets Yoongi go quickly, hands trembling.
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Yoongi gets up, pink-cheeked, and Jin backs away from all of them. “I didn’t mean to do that- I didn’t even want to do that.” He’s close to tears again.  It’s not the first time one of them got an impromptu spanking from the pack omega. But what is shocking is Jin’s guilt.
There is a certain level of dominance that they've all agreed to all consented to being a part of this pack. Jin didn't even hurt Yoongi, and he's not thinking clearly. Hobi doubts there's even red marks.
Jin just needs an outlet for his instincts.
Jungkook stalks towards him, determined, and the hair on the back of Jin’s neck stands up.
“I think it’s cute that you’re so worried about her when you’re so clearly in pre-heat too hyung. Don't ignore me.”
Jin nearly snaps his teeth with how quick he goes toe to toe with the youngest. The alpha’s do worse regularly when tensions are high, but still it’s so strange to see Jin act anything like aggressive- especially directed against the youngest and for hardly anything more than a cocky tone. Jin and Jungkook go toe to toe.
“I’m not ignoring you, you're just wrong. I’m not in pre-heat."
Jungkook just grins and reaches out to touch Jin’s chest. Cupping him where he knows he’s sensitive. Jin lets out a high-pitched keen and almost sags, would probably fall if Jungkook didn't catch him by the elbow. 
It makes every alpha in the room stand to attention. Sit up. Nervous. “Sensitive here, right? And you still want to say you’re not- when you’ve been snappy the whole day because you just want to nest and not be upright- when you just want what your alphas aren’t giving you- your omega’s and your knots.”
Jin bites his lips, covering his chest with his hands and stepping back. Looking a little stunned. “You’re in pre-heat hyung.”
The whole room is silent, but after a second, Hobi reaches for Jin’s phone on the counter. “I’m calling Namjoon.”
Jin’s hand wraps around Hobi’s wrist stopping him- his upper lip lifts in a near feral hiss.
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
~-~
(You and namjoon)
You wrap the terry cloth robe around you more firmly, fighting back a blush as the manager of the onsen stands up from your side. If she were an alpha, things would be a lot different and you doubt that Namjoon would let her get at all close to you. But Namjoon doesn’t have any problem with letting her check you over, verifying that the water wasn’t too hot and that everything is fine.
Everything is far from fine.
There had to have been some reason for you to pass out no more than an hour ago. You didn’t just fall asleep- that much you know, after coming too to black spots in your vision and dizziness so complete you doubt you could stand without falling over right now. To Namjoon frantically calling your name and covering you with a towel.
Everything smells a little off too- a little dampened, you paw at your nose, wondering why you can’t seem to smell the omega- given she’s old. But you can’t smell Namjoon either. It’s a little distressing, not being able to smell your pack alpha. Your nose doesn’t feel stuffy.
Weird.
Namjoon checked you over too. You’d already sort of been coming around after he dragged your limp body out of the hot water, but he’d been a little startled. You’re kind of thankful that his frantic call had fucked up, that he’d accidentally called the front desk instead of 911 if only to spare yourself the embarrassment of a trip to the hospital and probably a trip home.  
You feel too sluggish for that- like everything is moving at 2x speed and your brain is on pause. Now, you rub at your nose and let Namjoon and the omega duke it out. “It was probably just the heat of the onsen. Young omegas tend to be a little more affected by sharp temperature changes.”
Namjoon grits his teeth, “she’s taken hot baths before.”
The elderly omega raises her eyebrow, “In magnesium-rich water?”
Namjoon deflates and admits “No” after a second. She stands from the bed and nods like her work is done. “it was in the pamphlet. I recommend you rest well tonight and then enjoy it in the morning, you’ve traveled far.” Namjoon holds your hand tight. His fingers pressed to your wrist, feeling the flutter of your pulse against his skin.
“The pamphlet?” The manager hunts it down, and after a second digs it out from under the bed, cast from the bed to the floor by the mishap with your suitcase. Leave it to Joonie to be so excited he didn’t look before he put it down. Properly scolded, Namjoon takes the pamphlet.
Namjoon says something to the old lady in the doorway, comes back inside with a few plastic shopping bags, and you remember the food. It must have been delivered sometime in the last hour, because it still looks and smells hot when he sets it on the side table.
Huh, your nose doesn't seem to have any problem smelling the food- just Namjoon. Weird.
Namjoon’s looking at you in a way that you’re familiar with. The same way he looks at Jungkook after his seizures. “Can you get me a shirt?” Namjoon gives you one of his, probably the one he’d planned on sleeping in. He watches as you pull it over your head, watches as it pools on your bare thigh.
It’s nighttime now, and the lights outside are mainly pointed up at the trees lighting them from below. You leave the large glass doors open, cautioning in some of the warm sweet-smelling air and a few cherry blossoms inside. They flutter and stick to the big puddles on the wooden floor. Puddles from you when Namjoon dragged you out of the water catch the light like silver.
Namjoon’s medical bag is already on the side. He must have gotten it from the car although you’re not sure when. You look at him and he tucks his chin looking a bit like a kicked puppy. The concern in his eyes makes you feel all warm in your stomach.
“Are you going to keep looking at me like that until you check me again?”
“Yes” you make a noise, and surrender yourself to him again, Namjoon moves- almost jaunty.
He checks your blood pressure again, the movement behind your eyes with a small flashlight, you follow his instructions like the good pup you are. Everything quiet except for the faint trickle of water outside and the low hum of his voice.
When Namjoon asks you to lean forward so that he can sneak a stethoscope onto your back and listen to your lungs and heart, you nose and nuzzle at his shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering. After a few moments, he makes to stand back but your arms tug him close, keep him that way, almost purring.
Now you know why you couldn’t smell him earlier- it’s because you weren’t close enough, now you’re under his thumb you can finally smell him again and he smells so musky. You drink him in, rubbing small circles with your nose.
"Pup" he stresses. You pay him no mind.
Namjoon smells good today. Really really good. you’re not sure what it is but- he smells richer, maybe not any different than usual- but almost like you can sense more. Pick up on every little thing, every pulse of his heartbeat makes his scent flutter out stronger like a ripple. Promising safety and protection. You really are going to start purring.
Namjoon stops you the second before you try to bite him.
You blink up at him, mouth open. His hand grips your cheeks and you close your mouth with a faint click. "Sorry- I don't know why I-" Namjoon bites his lip while you rub your eyes, he waits until you can quiet the purring in your throat. You search for the word, “purry? bitey?”
“It’s fine,” Namjoon’s still watching you like a hawk.
You blink slowly, eyelids heavy. You’re still really tired, really drowsy. “Then why are you looking at me like that?”
“Your heart rate is a little slow. I’m worried.”
“I’m fine Joonie.” He looks at your lips and then your eyes, “really.” You shake yourself awake a little. “Wanna eat so much food we get a food coma and then sleep it off?” It’s barely 6pm but it sounds like a good idea. Namjoon tosses his stethoscope into the chair in the corner of the room and sighs.
Luckily- someone else but Tae seems to have a hand in at least packing you one or two comfy sets of clothes. You’re mostly clean, too sleepy and dizzy to think about showering again. You dress deftly in your pj’s and Namjoon dresses with his and sets out the food you rest up against the bed, it’s not as good as your nest but still- the sheets are smooth and soft.
You wrinkle your nose, you can’t smell anyone but Namjoon, lifting your sleeve to your nose you breathe a deep breath and get a bit of Jin and Jungkook- that does more to settle you.
It’s been a long time since you’ve nested without either of them or their scents. You’re not sure you like it, you’re not sure you want to nest here.
Namjoon comes back with the rest of the food, but leaves it in a heap on the side table. There’s a lump in his throat and his scent sours. “I’m sorry this isn’t more fun.”
You reach over to squeeze his hand, “It’s okay Joonie, and this is fun. I’m sorry I passed out.”
Your pack alpha shakes his head, “not your fault. We’ll just wait until you get a bit more rest. We can enjoy it tomorrow, right?” You nod, and shuffle over to the edge of the bed so you can kiss him. His pout turns into a smile against your mouth but it still feels like an apology.
“Even just lying here- pinging out on food is still gonna be fun.” Your tone turns to tease. “I mean I know we both through this was supposed to be like a romantic vacation rather than a vacation vacation but-"
Namjoon shakes his head, “I just want to spend time with you.”   
The two of you get fat and happy on dumplings and pork fried rice, the kind of salty bad American Chinese food that you and Namjoon are both familiar with, that you both like even if the rest of the pack doesn’t.
Over the next hour with the TV droning and the warm air wafting into the room- you talk about everything. Spilling peach rings and gummy bears and red vines onto the bedspread. Your feet against his shins, your legs over his lap.
You talk about everything- your childhoods, the fact that yoongi's really close to finishing renovations on the house, getting Noodle a sibling. All of it. That one time that Jimin and Hobi had a competition to see who could eat the most crab Rangoon's in a single sitting and almost vomited. Everything. Reclined back against the bed. You can almost fool yourself into thinking that you’re alright, that nothing is wrong.
But then you get up to brush your teeth.
Namjoon is just shutting the door and the outside lights, turning your room into a pocket of dim yellow light. half of the food put away in the mini fridge but the other half still out and open for grazing. Everything has started to feel cozy and sleepy again and maybe- maybe tomorrow when you wake up, you'll finally feel better.
You’re just rounding the corner into the bedroom, toothbrush hanging out of your mouth when the cramping hits you.
“Ow ow ow what the fuck-”
You almost drop to your knees at the pain, crouching over, catching yourself on the doorway. curling over, anything to release the pressure, the horrible tenseness and unfamiliar pain in your stomach. You go white as a sheet and Namjoon looks so startled. Shouting your name and jumping over the bed, knocking over an open and nearly full container of fried pork rice plain onto the ground. Your toothbrush falls onto the hotel room floor.
“Pup! What’s wrong!? What’s-” Namjoon’s hands are on your shoulders and You’re still holding your stomach, blinking back the tears in your eyes and whimpering. Namjoon pries your fingers away from your stomach to see- but there’s nothing. Namjoon touches your stomach- and you keen.
Namjoon’s nostrils flare. And he picks you up from where you’re crumpled on the floor. It’s not so difficult for him, although he sets you down on the bed with less finesse.
The cramping lasts for a few more seconds. You’re panting by the time it dissipates. Namjoon makes it so so much better- rubbing a soothing hand up and down your spine, tucking his chin over the ball of your shoulder, and holding you. Ushering you as close to his chest and neck as he can. Something about your alpha being close makes all of this better- makes the cramps subside.
“It’s okay pup, it’s okay, I’ve got you, alphas got you.”
Namjoon’s muscles are shaking. He waits until the cramping stops and you're just breathing heavily. But then he sets you back gently against the bed. You’re dazed and dizzy where you lie. Whining in displeasure when Namjoon pulls away. Trying to guide your hands away from your stomach. shanking your head as he tries to get you to stop holding it.
“Let me see pup, let me see- Omega.”
Your body breaks out into full body shivers, hands going limp, you freeze and bear your throat so quick you don't even realize what you're doing. Head spinning. room spinning. Your Focus narrows down to Namjoon and his command, Namjoon and what he wants Namjoon and-
His eyebrows are knit together and he’s concentrating on something- thinking hard as he gently detangles your hands
Namjoon swallows, then leans down. Ducking in and sniffing at your stomach. Breathing deep. Nose brushing your naval.
He jerks back abruptly, eyes wide.
Namjoon bursts into action, crossing the room and going into the bathroom where he starts to shove your clothes into your suitcase. Everything from the crumpled lingerie that had tumbled out earlier, to his dirty clothes and bathing suit, everything shoved back inside with little care.
“Fuck- fuck-���
You sit up, hair ruffled, “Joonie?” Your dress for tomorrow night gets stuffed into the suitcase roughly, with little care for the delicate silk he can’t get it closed around the hanger.
“We’re going home.” Namjoon looks so stressed, you half wish you’d never driven all the way out here in the first place.
“What? Why-“
Namjoon’s phone is on the bed and buried in the sheets, but it starts to ring, its tone loud and shrill. Namjoon hesitates, looking at you and then at the phone. But it’s Hobi's contact, and you reach for it almost before he does.
“Hyung thank god-” someone's shouting in the background, it’s Tae even if Hobi's phone is calling. Namjoon put it on speaker but the overlap of loud voices makes the speaker on his phone crackle.
“Give me the phone- I can-” “No let her speak!” You’ve never heard Yoongi sound so bratty, Jungkook whines and it’s hard to tell exactly who hit the phone and Who exactly called. Their voices overlap, everyone is trying to speak at once. “Stop squirming-” "hurry up, Hobi can only distract him for so long."
Namjoon doesn’t need to raise his voice to get them to comply, just says “Guys!” in a slightly stern tone and they all fall silent.
“Something’s happening, I’m coming home- we- she’s-” Namjoon looks at you, and you get the sense that he knows something and he’s just not telling you.
“Oh, thank god” Yoongi sounds relived.
“Please hurry,” Jimin asks, but Jungkook comes over, snapping his reply.
“We need to tell him- Jin hyung-" There’s a sound of skin hitting skin, and muffled voices like someone just put their hand over Jungkook’s mouth.
Namjoon does not look away from the phone, hand tightening around it. “Wait what’s wrong? What’s going on with Jin?”
You perk up at the sound of his name. The pack omega? What possibly could be going on that they need to tell you about. “Omega?” You ask, and Namjoon almost hisses.
“Pup" The relief and tiredness is palpable in Jin's voice, he sounds substantially less stern when he hears your voice. "I’m fine, pup, just-” Silence again. You wish they’d face timed, that you could see their faces and they could see yours.
“We waited until we were sure and Jin hyung didn’t want to say anything because he didn’t want to ruin your vacation but- but-” Jungkook stutters and Jimin comes in behind him. At the sound of one of your alpha’s, you chirp. Slapping a hand over your mouth in surprise.
“Jin hyung is in heat.”
You hear a sound, something like a door opening, and Jin's stern tone comes through the line. "You better not be doing what I think you're doing. I told you I didn't want to tell them until tomorrow morning."  Jin sounds cross, sounds actually angry.
Namjoon looks down at you, gaze conflicted. “Fucking hell.”
“I know- I’m sorry, we waited until we were sure but he started feeling crampy a few minutes ago-”
You touch your own stomach, crampy. Huh that means-
"No, I'm not upset just-” 
You take the phone from Namjoon, “alpha.” Your keen is so breathy, you don’t know what tips Hobi off if it’s that or the breathlessness to your voice, the way you sound close to tears.
Leaving the den was a very very bad idea. Jimin falls silent on the other line, everyone is quiet for a moment, but then the phone explodes with the sound of arguing.
"I was right! I told you she was in heat hyung's- I told you so!"
"Jungkook, now is so not the time-"
"Ow!"
There's the sound of squabbling, someone pushing at someone else maybe. something hits the phone and it makes a muffled crackling sound. "Jinnie- no biting- hey- no- guys."
You and Namjoon look at the phone, and everyone is silent for a second before you lean over it. "Daddy?"
the sounds of a tussle cut off. “Pup” Jin sounds so sad over the line, not at all like he just bit someone. “Can you come home? I think I’m gonna go crazy if you’re not-”
“Yeah, Namjoon’s already packing.”
“Thank god,” Jin sounds close to tears, you’re dizzy, but not so dizzy and out of it that you don't grasp the gravity of the situation. not so dizzy that you can’t do what you need to. Jin sounds so so sad.
"I didn’t want it to be this way, I wanted your first heat with us to be just you- so I could take care of you, but it doesn't look like it's going to turn out that way.”
“Can you make me a nest Jinnie? A heat nest? I can’t, I don’t know how.”
“Yes.” Jin says, voice going husky. “Gonna make you the best heat nest, gonna be so cozy. Gonna be perfect.” He promises, and you smile. He’s already feeling hazy, you can tell.
You’re feeling hazy too. Cheek falling against the bed, trying to nuzzle into the phone. “Can’t wait, wanna nest with you-”  
“Shit.” “Jin don’t fall over- here-” you hear a thump, like someone’s guiding him to a chair.
Namjoon takes control of the situation. “I’ll let you know when we’re on the road.”
“No- don’t text and drive.”
“Love you, bye, see you in a bit.” Namjoon hangs up and heaves the suitcase up onto the bed to finish packing. You start to move, but he shoots you a look. “Stay here, I’ll carry you.”
“Joonie it’s just pre-heat, I can still walk-”
Namjoon shoves your clothes, your bikini, into the confines of the suitcase. Red strings tangle in his fingers. “Don’t care.”
“But-” Namjoon darts forward, looming over you and you have to fight the urge to tilt your head to the side and show your neck. Holding you by the chin a little roughly. It has the desired effect.
Your instincts preen, alpha's so good. Alpha's so strong, knows just how to handle you. Your heartbeat quickens, and Namjoon glowers. “I think if I don’t get you home right now, and back to the den I might go-” Namjoon hesitates, and you see it, how he trembles. How he gently guides you to sit back on the bed. And you recognize the stress in his voice.
An alpha and an omega outside of their den during a heat is a scary thing. Namjoon's instincts are so close to the surface. You hope you don't see anyone on your way out. If anyone looked at you too long you don't know what Namjoon might do. 
Namjoon will not go feral at the idea of his omega suffering through a heat outside of the Den. Namjoon will not go crazy. He will drive you back to the house at an appropriate speed, and you won’t go into heat on the way home because realistically you have at least another 24 hours before either of your heats hit fully.
Most pre-heats last anywhere from 24 to 48 hours, Jin’s are always a little longer because he's older.
Yours? He’s not so sure about.
Your eyelashes flutter and your scent spikes. He strokes reassuringly down your scent gland and you pant, you feel it all the way at the tips of your fingers, trembling. It's so good having Namjoon touch you there. You clench your thighs and whine as he pulls away. And you know that's as much as he can give you right now. To settle your instincts for the drive and to settle himself too.
This is the moment the pack has been waiting for. The moment they’ve carefully coached you towards with every meal and every bit of encouragement. In many ways- each courting gift was meant for this moment. Every blanket and pillow, every stuffed animal and matching pajama set was all for this; the moment you’d need every soft thing, every strong alpha you have at your fingertips.
They won’t fail you now. Namjoon won’t fail either of you.
“How long was your last pre-heat last pup?”
You blink, thinking back while he stoops to put on your socks, you are a little cold you realize, your body reallocating heat to your internal organs, leaving your extremities chilly and trembling. Contrary to popular belief- heats don’t always mean fever. Sometimes they mean you get so cold that you need other bodies to keep you warm.
You’re at that stage now, no wonder why the water earlier made you sleepy- complete and total warmth is what you need right now- what your body craves is a nest and your packmates. You can’t regulate your temperature on your own- you need the others to do it for you.
“It wasn’t quick, like- maybe 30 hours, granted I didn’t really realize I was going into heat so I’m not sure, I don’t-” Somehow, you don’t think this one will give you quite so much time to adjust. Namjoon soothes you with a finger running down the back of your neck, he won’t scruff you unless you need him to- worried that it will send you prematurely hurtling into heat.
They need to be careful- Namjoon needs to be careful. This is your first heat in a long long time and your body might behave unpredictably. They need to be careful not to bring it on too strong.
You need people who won't trigger you too quick, you need Jin and Jungkook and Yoongi.
You think it might come quick, with how intense all of this is feeling. Every step Namjoon takes away makes you anxious. Excites that prey part animal of you that knows you’ll be vulnerable for the next few days- probably the whole week.
Namjoon locks the door while he puts the suitcase in the car and then comes back for you. Taking no chances. “Namjoon,” you say, when he comes back into the hotel room. You gesture to the mess on the floor between your feet. The box of takeout that he upended on his race to get to you when you collapsed.
“What are we gonna do about the mess?"
~-~
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Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!
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~-~
Notes:
this chapter ended up alot more sexual than i planned for it too. i know i promised fluff but- it is really sexual in nature and i'm only realizing that now.
i realize that in my head the actuall toilet part of the bathroom upstairs was in a seperate little room like- almost a half bath inside the bath? but i can change it just for this part because it's like- bily is my sandbox and i can play in it <3
i don't know why sertian parts of the omega x omega dynamic really really apeals to me like- almost more than the alpha x omega parts do sometimes.
its really soft and just a tiny easter egg- but when hobi talks about planting the magnolia tree- i need everyone to know that namjoon and jin's first daughter ends up being namged magnolia- or maggie for short, and she's a little carbon copy of namjoon and a total tom boy and ands up climbing it like, basically every day, it's like her chill spot <3
if we're getting down into the nitty gritty of what had happened in the hot tub scene between tae and hobi and the m/c i think hobi had been really really curious about the m/c's addictive slick but obviously- he's triggered by giving women oral sex from moonbyul so he's like- obviously nervous and doesn't want to like- actually have the m/c ride his face, tae tae knows this and probably spent all of that, scene feeding hobi little drops of the m/c's slick from her fingers, had probably made the m/c sit on the edge of the hot tub and bend back to show hobi how wet she gets and nose and nuzzle at her hole over her bathing suit before pulling it to the side and showing him that her pussy is so cute it's hardly scary. obviously hobi does not eat the m/c out but maybe tae can't resist.
i know there are alot of flash back's and little scenes in between the scene that's actually happening- i wonder if this is the way i should write them? do you guys like the part where they're talking about the free use? yoongi's flue? or should i have edited those parts out?
where it not for the m/cs heat- i think it would have taken yoongi and her until the following fall to be intimate again. it would have happened one day when she came in from her classes all cold and damp from october (is that a spoiler?) and he'd crumple and give it to her slow and warm.
tae and the m/c's scene in the bedroom was supposed to be alot more breif but i made it longer because i love mommy tae and i missed her<3
tae kissing over her panties is so???? feral and horny of her??? when will that be meeeee on both sides of it honestly? can you imagine having a cute little girlfriend that lets you dress them up???? the fantasy of having someone who wants you so much they just cuddle into you all the time??? tae is one lucky girl 😭
i worry that this chapter is going to be like the others where i delve too far into each little thing and the bigger picture of it all is lost by the end of it but! maybe i don't care- i want mommy tae so bad :(
i really really love that tae calls the rest of the pack "our boys" because really- they are tae and the m/c's boys like- thats so soft for her to call them that. how much do you think jimin would blush to be called "my little boyfriend" by tae??? i think he'd short circuit.
listen, i know that canonically bily takes place in boston but i just couldn't resist with the onsen- i know nothing like this exists on the east coast but still <3 i wanted to write it so i made it my own.
i really like how you kind of get a taste for the dynamic of everyone at home without namjoon and the m/c- like the moment when they're talking about what kind of cat they'd be if they where a cat is so cute and packy <3 i wish i had a pack like that.
broody jinnie broody jinnie brooody jinnie <3 i love love love describing him as a broody hen, because if you'd ever been around a broody hen you know they are so sweet! but protective!!! and fluffy! we have a hen thats broody right now and her name is wonton.
The m/c having cramps as apart of her pre-heat symptoms is because i was also having cramps while i was writing this part. as was the american chineese food part! cuz i was craving it <3
namjoon deserves some major kudos for this chapter because tell me why that boy suffers
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shiny-mando · 3 years ago
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Congrats Alex 🎉❤️💜 You are a fantastic writer, I can't wait to see what else your big brain comes up with! For the prompts, could I get "you have kind eyes" from the sfw prompts with Jango?
AHHHH thank you, Vee, my darling!!💕✨
Ok, so I practically yanked myself out of a writing funk to do this one so it might be a little clunky, but I absolutely love this prompt with Jango and really enjoyed working on it.
Pairings: Jango Fett x f!reader
Words: 1k
Warnings: none :) it’s just pure fluff with a tiny bit of internal angst from Jango
Ever since you could remember you’ve loved what makes each person’s face unique, how even those who look alike have defining features that belong to no one else but them. From the twi’leks, to the rodians, to other humans, you appreciated the physical characteristics that made each individual special.
It might be the curve of someone’s jaw, a scar or birthmark, or the way their eyebrows scrunched together when they were lost in thought.
But the eyes, those were your favorite. Each set you encountered was so unique you were certain no two beings in the universe shared the same kind. How could they? Eyes told stories, ones that not even words could communicate, and every living thing had a story to tell, no matter how insignificant they thought they were.
You’re staring at your own face in the mirror now, running your fingers along every inch of it to apply the cream Jango bought you after he finished his last job. It smells sweet, almost like berries, and it makes you want to take just a minute longer working it in to savor the luxurious way it makes you feel.
You hear the bathroom door whoosh open and Jango steps in, his curly black hair standing out as he passes the mirror. A hand brushes along your lower back as he moves behind you, reaching to place a towel back on its rack before squeezing your hip and walking away.
You continue massaging the cream into your face, but a few seconds later you realize you haven’t heard the sound of the door sliding shut. Then in your peripheral vision you see it. That curly black hair is still there.
You focus your vision on his reflection and there he is, just leaning against the wall with his arms folded, watching you.
“What?” you ask with a smile.
He just shakes his head, a smile teasing at his lips.
Jango has never been one to explicitly tell you how he feels, that was something you learned fairly quickly. All those years working as a bounty hunter made him think intimacy was a luxury he’d never be able to experience, and as a precaution he built up walls, something to protect him in case he found himself in a moment of weakness.
Even now, despite the time you’ve been with him, he still finds it difficult to break through those walls. He just can’t find it in him to say what he means, to use the right words. Instead, he prefers to show you how he feels, by brushing his hand along your waist in passing, a quick kiss to your temple before he walks away, or on special occasions with a small gift.
This however, the staring, that’s new. But with the way he’s looking at you, eyes filled with admiration, it makes you feel absolutely adored.
You turn around and lean against the sink.
“Come here.” you tell him.
He tilts his head and his brows furrow, like he’s trying to figure out what’s going through your head, but when your lips turn up in a soft smile he makes his way over.
He’d do anything for that smile.
When he’s standing less than a foot away you stare up at him, your eyes roaming his face like it’s the first time you’re seeing him.
You pay attention to every scar, the wideness of his nose, the way the lines between his brows deepen when he’s looking at you this way.
And those eyes, oh, those beautiful brown eyes. Every wrinkle and line in his face serves as evidence of the terrible things those eyes have witnessed, but to you they show nothing but adoration and love. So much love.
“He’s beautiful,” you think to yourself.
With one hand you reach up and place your fingers at the nape of his neck, scratching gently where his hairline ends. His eyes trail down to your lips and for a moment it looks as if he might kiss you.
“Look at me,” you instruct, breaking the silence.
His eyes shoot back up to yours.
“You have kind eyes,” you tell him.
He tries to hide it but you see the surprise on his face.
Jango has been called many things a man of his talent would find flattering. When it comes to his peers and employers, they’ve used everything from intimidating to deadly to label the skilled bounty hunter.
But kind, that was not a word he would ever use to describe himself, let alone his features. Being a bounty hunter all these years left him scarred and rugged, but he didn’t mind. If anything it helped make him appear all the more threatening to anyone who saw him without his helmet.
He never let you see that side of him, the part that took bounties in dead or alive without question. It wasn’t that he was afraid of exposing you to the harshness of the galaxy, Jango knew you had witnessed your fair share of it. Yet somehow you managed to remain sweet and kind despite all of that; you hadn’t built walls around yourself like he had.
Jango feared that by letting you see all of him, the deepest and darkest parts, he would ruin that sweetness.
But here you are standing in front of him, staring into his eyes as if you’ve become lost in them.
The fact that you, someone he cherished so much, saw him as a man who was capable of being kind, he can feel it chip away at those walls. It’s not enough to break them down completely, but it’s a start.
His face softens, those warm brown eyes still focused on yours. He reaches up to remove the hand that rests on his neck, only to bring it to his lips. They’re warm and soft against your skin, and the small gesture of affection sends chills down your arm.
“Come on, pretty girl,” he says, his smile slowly reappearing. “It’s time for bed.”
tag list: @rexsjaigeyes @leonidas-banana-phone @lackofhonor @smoldjarin @thefact0rygirl
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livinginncity · 4 years ago
Text
if we were human
♚: lee rang x reader
❡: fluff??(angst, pure angst)
ⱳƈ: 2.5k
⚠︎: besides it being really bad? none really. like, literally a couple swears. it was fluff, and then it became angst, so...sorry, but not really because if i’m crying, so are you.
children could be heard all around the park. some screaming and laughing as they run behind, others crying after they tripped, only to soon be comforted by the gentle holds and hushed assurances of their mothers and fathers. a bit further away was a small dog park, from which came all kinds of barks and growl, as well as cooing of the passerby. and there at a bench, located slightly closer to the swings and slides attracting the younger humans, sat a man that looked less than pleased to be where he was.
“Guess who.” a female’s voice rang out as a soft hand covered his eyes. he merely rolled his eyes beneath their new coverings and proceeded to drag the small wrist away from his face. “y/n.”
the young woman sneered and scoffed before yanking her hand out of his grasp to walk around and join him on the bench. “I don’t like you.”
“I don’t like you either.” a smack to the back of the man’s head could be felt soon after the words left his mouth. “Yah!”
“What are you doing here anyway? I never took you for the people watching type.”
“That's because I'm not. As if they deserve that much attention.” a hand lazily lifted in the direction of a familiar little boy, the action bringing a smile to the woman’s face.
“Ahhhh. But that one’s the exception? I thought you didn’t like little kids with runny noses, something I heard you have in common with your brother actually. Is that a gumiho thing or a family thing?” the man she addressed turned his head to look at her with an unimpressed look.
“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much? Or that you ask too many questions?”
“Well considering that was one of the first things you said to me when we met, I’ll just assume you know the answer to that already.”
she turned to look where the man’s gaze had previously been fixed and he followed suit. their eyes moved as they followed the movements of the young boy whose energy seemed to rival that of a puppy’s. ‘how fitting’ was the thought that came to the pair. minutes passed before they changed positions—the girl moving to settle her head on her company’s shoulder. said company shook her off before she repeated the action, leaving her be the second time. and he stayed in place even after she dragged his head to rest upon her own.
“Rang-ah.” the man simply grunted in response, urging her to continue. “I hate this.”
his eyebrows furrowed slightly at the sudden proclamation. “The kids? The families? Parks? I don’t really like them either. The first are messy and demanding, the second is an extremely unrealistic dynamic, and the last are way too loud and crowded.”
“No.” she took in her surroundings before speaking again. “This. I love all of this. I want it all. The kids are adorable and it feels so rewarding to be someone they rely on and look up to. I’ve had my fair share of family drama, but I’ve always wanted my own that I could cherish—pointless fights and all. And parks are probably one of my favorite places because it gives me everything I need to imagine what it’d be like if I had the first two.”
“What?” at her words he lifted his head to look down at her.
“I hate all of this shit that’s going on right now. It was one thing when you were just this occasional menace to your brother, but now the Imugi is involved and Lee Yeon refuses to let Ji Ah go again. It’s caused so many problems and with them, questions to be asked. Things could be so much simpler. Don’t you ever think about what life would be like if we were all human? This would all just be some petty high school drama. Like, Lee Yeon got class president in school and now, years later, both he and Imugi are CEOs competing in the nightclub industry or something like that.”
“You’re starting to sound like Lee Yeon. I guess you’re just as lame as him. Or maybe even lamer because really? That’s the best you can do with this fake drama?”
“Did I ever tell you that I ran into Soo Ho before you got the Tiger’s Brow back from him?” she ignored the questions, but her own annoyed him slightly. before he could respond. “I asked him if I could try them on and walked to the nearest window I could see myself in.”
“So, what’d you see? What were you? A Snake? A rat? Pufferfish?” her only response to his teasing was a pinch to the side. she shook her head before continuing.
“I saw a child.” her face changed to a solemn one. “All I saw was a snot-nosed little kid that the world seemed to have it out for. I didn’t even live long enough to have many firsts. And no one was ever there for the few I did. Well, there was one. Towards the end, I think my final year, I met an old lady. She lived alone, but she took me in the moment we crossed paths. She gave me my own room, let me help her cook, as much as a child could help, and she would always tell me these stories of her husband who had passed about a decade before. In just a few months, that woman gave me what felt like a lifetime of love. All while I was slowly dying, she made me forget the hardships, the neglect, the hatred, and by some cruel fate, she died first. But before she went, she said to me “treat my death as not another result of this terrible world, but take it as a sign that even when we know that our end is inescapable, we are able to cherish the temporary moments in which we are truly happy should we allow ourselves that much.” And so,”
the woman finally lifted her head from the gumiho’s shoulder to look into his eyes. “I think, if I could be reincarnated as a human again, I would. But since it’s probably never gonna happen I want to live like one. Get married, have a family, get mad when someone doesn’t show up for the holidays. I don’t know if I’d make it as a human with everything I know now, and I honestly don’t want to be human right-right now because I probably wouldn’t get to be around you. And I also just can’t imagine how you’d get by without seeing me every day.”
“Don’t act like you’re anything special.” he scoffed and looked back at the playground.
“You don’t have to admit it.” she stood up from the bench, looked over to the young boy he had taken in, and turned back. the woman grabbed his face and, after looking at the man for a few seconds, leaned in. “I know you love me.” and then she ran. “Soo Ho-ah! Let me play with you, that old fox is being mean again!”
“Yah!” he didn’t get up to chase her. she was right no matter how much he thought about it. somehow that weird girl wormed her way into the list of people he more than tolerated. and as he sat alone with his thoughts, he watched her play with the reincarnated boy, the latter seemingly winning their current sword fight.
does he ever wanna be human? no, it seems way too boring. does he like kids? he likes one, so that’s good enough. will he get married at some point? well, it’s just some rings and paper. and it’s not like he isn’t in love with that girl in the park.
bonus;
“Hey, y/n. If you’re watching this then...you know. I figured a couple good deeds might do me well in the afterlife, so what better way than finally letting my brother be with the girl he’s waited hundreds of years for.”
“You crazy bastard.” those were the only words that she could force her mouth to speak as she looked down at the small screen.
“I know you’re probably cursing me right now, thinking ‘this crazy bastard.’” somehow they both managed to let out a chuckle. “You know I don’t like vulgar words, but I’m not there, so i told Soo-Ho to pinch you for me every time one leaves your mouth.”
“Of course you did. It’s already a habit of his now.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye. Especially to you, Yu Ri, and Soo-Ho. I didn’t get to say thank you, either. You’ve all helped me more than I’d ever care to admit, but I really am grateful to have shared part of my life with you. I got to help Yu Ri like Lee Yeon helped me, got to meet Blacky again, and I got to experience so many things with you.”
the tears in her eyes were already brimming and it was clear they wouldn’t stay there long. “y/n.” she looked back to the screen as he called her name.
“go to the nightstand on the right of my bed and open the drawer.” the girl got up from her place at the edge of the bed and walked over to the wooden table. with her phone in her left, she used her right to open the drawer, and she could feel her heartbeat stutter as she laid her sights on the black velvet box that sat in it. she reached a shaky hand to pick it up, and when she flipped it open she couldn’t help dropping the phone as she brought the other to her mouth with a choked sob. all she could do was shake her head and let the tears subject themselves to gravity.
“Do you remember that day in the park?” despite not being able to actually see through the endlessly flowing tears, she managed to scramble around and find the device that had slipped from her grasp. “You were talking about all this stuff like marriage, family, kids—what it’d be like to be human because things would be so much simpler. And while I don’t think anyone could ever convince me that being human would be fun, I figured we could at least do some of those human things. We were kind of halfway there, you know? You practically live in my apartment, and Soo-Ho took over the living room with his toys, so it was only a matter of time for him to get his own room so I could stop stepping on legos—maybe get a door with a lock from the outside so I don’t have to worry about waking up covered in stickers.”
she laughed as she recalled the memory, his interactions with the little boy, and their goofy smiles when things were calm for once. “You dorks were made to follow each other into every life.”
“I was gonna propose to you after this whole thing was over. Once I knew Lee Yeon was safe and not being targeted by a wannabe dragon. I’m sorry I couldn’t give that to you or...our own kid, though I think the one we have now is pretty great. And I’m also really sorry that I’m finally telling you this once it’s too late, but you were right. About what you said that day.” her breath hitched as she saw the tears glisten while they slid down his face. “I love you.
as if it were clockwork, a sob made its way from her throat and the tears began again.
“Yah, stop crying already. Please. I’d be upset if I was the cause of it.” and she tried, she really did, but it wasn’t as easy as he made it sound. “And, I know this is probably asking a lot for all that I’ve put you through, but can you wear it? At least for a little bit. Just think of it as a way of honoring my memory—the better parts obviously. You can keep my apartment if you want, too. Soo-Ho might be a job better-fit for Sin-Ju and Yu Ri, but if he says he wants to stay with you, you better let him.”
another laugh emitted from between the sobs as she listened to his final message.
“I really do love you, y/n. And if there is ever a chance of us finding each other again, I’ll tell you every chance I get. Anyway, I think it’s time for me to go now. I only have a couple more minutes and I don’t think the others are gonna make it in time. I’m scared if I’m being honest, y/n. I’m afraid of being alone, but you helped me not feel like that all the way up to the end—I finally had a family. So thank you. Love you.” and he smiled his big, child-like smile before adding on, “And don’t tell Lee Yeon I said sorry, or thank you, or I love you that much in under ten minutes.”
and just like that, it was over. no more, dumb family feuds, no more naengmyeon with no eggs because someone would always steal it, no more Lee Rang. she stared at the paused screen for what felt like hours before setting it to the side on the bed, to do as he had asked. carefully,  she took the ring out from the safety of its cushions and slid it onto her left hand. she let out a shaky breath as she stared at her ring finger and she said it back, hoping that somehow, someway, he would hear it. “I love you too, Lee Rang-ah.”
it was a while before she moved from that spot—getting on her feet only to answer the door that had just rung. opening it, she could have seen the man who had taken the place of Lee Rang’s in the living world, but all she saw at that moment was an older brother who had also lost someone he loved.
“Lee Yeon-ah.” it was then that the male finally took in her appearance. she wore jeans, one of his brother’s sweaters, and her hair was in a bun that had clearly seen better days. but what really caught his attention as his eyes traveled, was the black box in her right hand, and shining silver band on her left. then he lifted his eyes back to hers to see just how tired she was. “Lee Yeon-ah. I miss him.”
the man simply brought her into his chest as she sobbed. and she cried, and she cried, and all the while he stood there with her in his embrace. it was all he could do, he couldn’t offer her words of comfort just yet because, even now she may be much stronger than he is. because she’s strong enough to live without the promise of his reincarnation. she knows she may never see him again, but won’t risk exchanging her life just so he won’t go through the same thing.
“I miss him so much.” her voice cracked as the words came out, and he ran his hand over her hair.
“I know, I know. I miss him, too.”
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thebeautyoffanfics · 3 years ago
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Im gonna just say first, you are LITERALLY carrying the tbhk fandom at this point n you seem so nice ily keep up the good work!!! Second, could I request headcanons of Aoi (female) and Yashiro with a fem!s/o whos secretly an idol/singer? If that makes sense. Ty ty!!
aoi akane x f!reader, yashiro nene x f!reader
a/n: OANFOINFSDN thank you so much;; <33 I’ve been obsessing over TBHK since the day I read the first chapter, and I honestly don’t think my love for it will die anytime soon, so! I’m glad to provide what I can <3 and thank you so much for the compliment, it genuinely means so much!! Ily ily ily, you’re so very welcome, and thank you so much for requesting!!
warnings: none <3
word count: 1,144
Aoi Akane <3
As if she didn’t think you were admirable before-
Aoi always found you gorgeous, almost too beautiful to be with her- how were you not deemed the princess of the school? Really, she didn’t deserve such a title. It should have gone to you.
Your voice? Angelic. She could listen to you 24/7 if life allowed it. No matter how casual she is on the outside, her heart is constantly skipping beats around you, and she’s mentally all over the place. You’re so talented… so beautiful…… she admires you so much….
So, when she goes to your house and sees a few notes, pictures, and cute outfits in your room, she’s instantly curious. Has her beautiful girlfriend’s talent been discovered? In what? What’s up?
“Oh, well- I’m a singer.”
“:)???”
That’s literally her expression- her cute smile doesn’t falter, but her eyes and eyebrows show nothing but… confusion-? No, she knew you were amazing- she was just… caught off guard? How had she not realized it?
You grabbed a picture of you dressed up, and offered it to Aoi. And, honestly? Her admiration went 📈📈📈 if even possible.
“Why didn’t I find out sooner? That’s incredible, (Y/N)! You look amazing, that’s really incredible!”
Hold this moment dear to your heart, because it won’t be often that you catch her off guard and get her to be this excited. She’s genuinely gawking at the photo, asking you a bunch of questions, and looking at every picture you have around-
A princess (of the school) and an idol… it almost sounds like that Barbie movie- except the two of you are in love-
If you have concerts, you’d better believe she’s attending every. Single. One. Who knows how many she missed before realizing you were an idol!! She’s going, no matter what! Standing there, cheering almost uncharacteristically, and looking at you with such genuine love and admiration.
Watching you sing, be it in your room with her, or on the stage, is one of her favorite things. Your love and passion towards it is so sweet to her, and she can practically feel herself falling harder and harder when you’re singing. Your angelic face and voice… your overall stage presence. She almost envied it, in the kindest way possible- in a way where she only looked up to you more because of it.
Aoi listens to your music constantly after finding out. Genuinely, the moment she got home afterwards, she was searching for your music, creating an entirely new playlist for it. I don’t see her as the kind to make many playlists, so consider it a big honor.
As a singer/idol, you certainly already know how to take care of yourself, and probably have others to help with it. Still, Aoi is making sure more than anyone that you’re staying healthy and happy, and not overworking yourself. She’ll make you tea if your throat gets sore, give you massages if you’re sore, and will be ready to fight anyone if they dare push you past your limit. You’re her beautiful, lovely, amazing girlfriend, and she’s going to make absolutely sure that everyone treats you the way you deserve (and that way is like a queen).
Yashiro Nene <3
To be honest, she’s slightly less composed than Aoi. But, similarly to her, Yashiro thought you hung the moon even before she knew you were an idol.
As a hopeless romantic, she thought your relationship was enough of a fairytale. She and her beautiful, talented girlfriend- it was like a dream, really.
“Hm, (Y/N). She kind of looks like you,” Yashiro would say, pointing at a picture you had from a concert.
“Pff- that is me.”
“H… HUH-?”
Sits there, looking at the picture, then at you, repeatedly for a few seconds. “That’s- that’s really believable.”
Give her a few seconds, just trust me. Once you explain a bit more, showing more pictures and such, she’s practically bubbling. If you look closely, you’ll see the sparkles in her eyes as she brags on you. Calling you cool, telling you how beautiful you are, how beautiful you look on a stage, how proud she is, how talented you are!! She’s so impressed!!! She’s so swooned!!
Yashiro is instantly a superfan. Buys your music, goes to every concert- rambles about you to yourself, since she knows it’s still a secret- she doesn’t want to risk anyone knowing that her girlfriend is an idol… BUT THAT’S STILL SO COOL AHHHH,,,
She compares it to all the romance novels she’s read! Not only does she have a girlfriend, her girlfriend is an idol! It’s like those where the girl falls in love with a famous person- or a secret identity story! Or, even somewhat secret lovers?! She’s openly dating (Y/N), but she’s not openly dating (Y/N) the singer-!
S,,, sing to her. Do it, I dare you,,
Hearing your singing through her earbuds is one thing. At a concert is another. In person, sitting with her in your room, conversation slowly died out as you both pondered what to do. Cuddling alone was nice, but the moment you suggested you sing a bit of a song you liked, she was 100000000% down.
As soon as your angelic voice starts singing the first few words, she’s… there’s no word to describe what she is- flustered? So very in love?? Feeling like she’s dreaming??? On cloud 9?? Yashiro’s sitting there, side pressed against yours, her face practically on fire as her heart does all sorts of flips. In that moment, all she can think of is how cool you are, and how much she loves and admires you.
If you keep any of the dresses from concerts, please please, do a little dress-up with her,,,, let her try on the dresses, and put some on yourself. Even hold little “concerts” that consist of instrumentals to songs you two like, holding hairbrushes and dancing around your room, pretty dresses swishing around.
When the two of you are dueting like that, spin her around a bit, then pull her in for a kiss when the song ends, should you be feeling bold. The look on her face will be worth it more than anything ever was- her red face, as she attempts to hide her expression in your shoulder. “You- You can’t just do that, (Y/NNNNN).... W-well, actually you can… I didn’t mind, b-b-but-”
Sometimes, she catches herself humming your music, and listening to it when she’s feeling down or can’t sleep. Being around you is ideal, but she knows you can’t see her any time she wants to see you- if that were the case, you’d be with her constantly. So, on sleepless nights, or when her mind gets a little too noisy, hearing your beautiful voice singing such catchy songs can usually calm her down plenty. Or at least provide a lovely distraction <3
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hihellogoodbyebruh · 4 years ago
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Stingy
Pairing: Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes x Black!OC
Summary: EZ has a problem sharing and his girl, Monique is quite over it.
Warning(s): Some angst with a fluff ending
Word count: 2,552
AN: Ahhhh my first EZ fic. Based on a request I received from the lovely @ly--canthrope with an assist coming from Ginuwine’s Stingy. Thank YOU so much for your patience and encouraging words. I hope you enjoy this xo
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You can say I'm tripping but I'm stingy And I can't hide it Wanna keep you all to me I'm selfish, why try to fight it?
An abandoned episode of Girlfriends played on the tv in the background as a woman sat straddling EZ’s lap as the two made out. His hands were rubbing up and down her sides under her shirt and her hands were gripping his face. One of her favorite things to do was kiss her boyfriend. She loved that they could just get lost in each other and it was the perfect opener for the mindblowing sex that was coming.
The familiar ringtone and buzz from her phone’s vibration echoed against the coffee table as she received a text message. She pulled away from the kiss and turned her head, trying to see if she could read the message from her position. She felt EZ stiffen, his hands moving down her hips to grip her thigh.
“I swear to God, Monique.” EZ began, feeling himself become annoyed. He can’t even enjoy her company at home without being interrupted. He’s tried so hard to be understanding, but that selfish part of him was fed up. The opening of Galindo’s company really put into perspective how often he misses time with her.
As Miguel’s assistant she had a very big hand in putting the opening celebration together. She’d been Miguel’s assistant for a couple years now. Her mother was a close confidante to Dita before she passed away. Dita wanted to keep an eye on her so she asked Miguel to give her a job. She was fantastic at keeping things organized and she already knew about the other side of business. 
Working for Miguel was great because though some would hate being an assistant, he actually gave her a lot of responsibility. She was often put in charge of events while making sure everything in his life runs smoothly, at least on the legal side of things.She was so proud of her work tonight but she hardly had time to celebrate until she saw her man walking through the door.
She’d been with EZ, Ezekiel as she liked to call him because she loved his full name, for a little over a year. It was the best relationship she’d ever been in. He was kind, honest, caring, and oh so very fine.
She ended her current conversation before strutting over to Ezekiel, her arms immediately going around his neck. “Hi baby. I’m so happy you’re here.” She kissed his lips.
EZ loved seeing his girl in her element. She was very much out of his league in his mind and he felt lucky every day he woke up to her. “Hey beautiful.” He greeted her, hands resting on her lower back and pulling her close to him. “I see all your hard work has paid off.”
“It really has. Things couldn’t be going better. Especially now that you’re here.” She grinned at him.
“Oh yeah? You’re happy to see me?” He teased, smiling back so she kissed him again.
The two of them engaged in some conversation and heavy flirting before they were interrupted by her boss.
“Monique, I need you for a second…” Miguel announced, no time for pleasantries. He was always about his business. She could respect it but it was also annoying because he could have greeted Ezekiel
“Oh hi Miguel. We weren’t having a conversation or anything.” She sarcastically replied, giving her boss a look.
“Reyes..” Miguel acknowledged her boyfriend with a barely noticeable head nod before bringing his attention back to her. “You’ve put in the most face time with the Castillos and the lovely matriarch has requested your presence. We don’t want to keep them waiting, verdant?”
EZ rolled his eyes at Miguel but didn’t say anything. He was used to Miguel’s shit and honestly he didn’t like him either so the less they communicated the better.
The Castillos were a very important family that have entered into an arrangement with Galindo enterprises both on the legitimate and illegitimate side of business. It was already fragile so she wanted to keep everything on the up and up.
She retreated from EZ’s arms without a second thought. “Is everything alright? When we went over the final documents she didn’t bring anything up.” She began walking alongside Miguel but stopped in her tracks.
“I’ll be right back.” She walked back over to EZ and planted a distracted kiss on his cheek. 
He mustered up a slight smile and then she was gone. 
She didn’t come back until the end of the night.
She sighed, pushing her way out of his lap and snatching up her phone once she stood up. “He’s my boss, Ezekiel. You have got to let this thing with Miguel go. Enough is enough.”
“He just does this to piss me off.” And it worked. He wanted to have her all to himself, but he couldn’t do that with Galindo constantly texting her and having her work long hours. At this point it felt she was the one singlehandedly keeping his businesses afloat.
“So stop letting it piss you off.” She replied, like it was the easiest thing and to her it was. 
He shot up from his seat and exasperatedly asked, “Why do you always defend him?”
“Because you’re being ridiculous. You knew who I worked for when we started dating.” She was annoyed they were even having this argument. Her attention was focused on her phone as she replied to Miguel with the information he needed.
EZ grew even more irritated that even in an argument he couldn’t have her whole attention. “What could he possibly need from you at 2 in the morning? Hm?” He snatched the phone from her hand.
“Are you out of your mind? Give me my phone back!” She gasped, shocked at his audacity. She and Ezekiel had been together for awhile now and he’s never acted this way. He’s never lost his temper with her. “Things happen. Emergencies. I never say anything when you have an emergency with the MC.”
“Bishop doesn’t text all hours of the night. Bishop doesn’t hate you and try to disrespect our relationship at every turn. And quite frankly, Bishop isn’t a woman so it’s not the same at all.” Ez snapped, his voice getting louder.
“And just what the fuck are you implying, EZ?” There was a clear warning in her tone of voice as she matched his volume. Now they both were yelling at each other. She never called him EZ either. Always preferring to call him Ezekiel.
He knew he should have backed down and cooled off but he was beyond tired of this shit. The angry words slipped outta his mouth before he could stop them. “I’m just wondering what all the late nights are really about. If I’m dating Miguel’s side piece just tell me!”
That was a mistake. Yelling was a mistake. Saying those words was a mistake. He knew it the moment he saw tears form in her eyes. 
“Excuse me?” She whispered, voice slightly cracking. How dare he call her a cheater! He officially has lost his mind.
Ezekiel felt his heart drop into his stomach when he heard the hurt in her voice. It went too far. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, mariposa.” He started to walk closer to her, but she stepped back from him.
“This has nothing to do with me. Or us. This is you and Miguel continuing to have a dick measuring contest. Th-this all goes back to Emily.” The name rolled off her tongue with mild resentment. The two never had a bad run in with each other, but all the stories about Emily and EZ’s past relationship and how she was the love of his life always made Monique get defensive.
“That’s not true.” EZ refuted, but she interrupted him before he could further explain.
“Yes it is!  And if somehow it’s not then we got some serious problems baby.” She just shook her head at him before demanding, “Get out.” 
You're the only one, you're the only love That's strong enough to claim me So please forgive me I'm just stingy But how can you blame me?
It’s been two weeks since the fight with Ezekiel and Monique was really missing him. She was mad that he would be such a dumbass, but she still just wanted to be laying back on the couch with him watching tv.
Miguel watched as she pushed her salad around her plate, clearly not hungry. “Todo bien hermanita?” He asked, watching as she finally brought her eyes up to meet his. This was the quietest lunch the two ever had. Usually she was talking a mile a minute.
She smiled a little at the nickname. He only called her that when he was concerned or when he really wanted something. Truth is, the two had a sibling kind of relationship. She just wished EZ had seen and understood it. “I’m fine. Not really hungry.”
“Hmm.” He hummed, taking a sip of his drink. “Nestor and I had a meeting with the Mayans yesterday. Saw your novio and he looked like shit.” Miguel casually mentions and she tries to act nonchalant even as her heart races at the mention of a certain biker. “Imagine my surprise when he asked to pull me aside for a chat.”
“What!” She gasped loudly, jaw dropping.
“I’m sure you could guess what we spoke about.”
“Miguel…” She was ready to apologize to him for whatever accusations were thrown his way.
“I know I’m very demanding. It’s part of who I am. I demand a lot from myself and from those around me, especially those closest to me. That includes you, hermanita. But I don’t want to be the reason for your unhappiness. Even if it is with Reyes..” There was only mild disgust in his tone and she took that as an improvement.
“It’s not your fault he doesn’t trust me, hermano.” She sighed.
“He is crazy about you, you know that right?”
Monique went to answer, but Miguel stood up from his seat. He grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the chair and walked over to her, pushing down gently on her shoulders to keep her from getting up. He leans down and whispers “If in the end, you don’t want him and he won’t take the hint you let me know. He can visit my pew.” 
She jerked her head back to give him a stern look, hating when he brought up that damn pew. He just kissed her head and walked away. She sat there dumbfounded for a second. “Wait, what-” She turned her head to call out to Miguel but her voice caught in her throat as she spotted Ezekiel right behind her. He walked over and took the seat Miguel was just in.
It was silent before she decided to break it. “You and Miguel working together? Hell must have frozen over.”
He cracks a grin at that. “Ha. Guess you could say we’ve called a truce. At least when it comes to a certain beautiful woman.”
“Calling a truce with my ‘side piece’? I’m sure Emily appreciates it.” She sarcastically replied, making him sigh in reply. 
“I never should have said that. I was pissed off and being a sarcastic asshole. This never had anything to do with Emily. Yes we have history, but I don’t think about that anymore. I haven’t for a long time.” Monique looked down, wanting to believe him but having a hard time doing it. “I think about you. I think about you when we’re apart, I think about when I’ll see you again, I think about our future when you’re in my arms. You’re never not on my mind.”
His words make her want to smile, but she wasn’t done. “Then what’s been going on with us lately? Anytime I answer a call or text from Miguel you’re huffing and puffing. You sit there literally pouting like a 3 year old every time I have to do something for work. What’s the problem?”
“First, I don’t pout.” She started to disagree but he loudly continued, earning a playful glare from her. “SECONDLY, I know you’re an independent woman out here making it on your own and shit. I know it’s just been you and your job for a long time. But now you got me, mariposa. I’m here by your side and I like spending time with you. I like the quiet moments at home and our nights out. I want more of them. You work so much and you forget about everything else. Me included.”
“What do you mean I forget you? I don’t forget you.”
“Galindo Enterprises.”
“What are...Oh-” Her face completely dropped as she remembered the night. She got pulled away by Miguel and never went back to Ezekiel. She didn’t mean to, but she ended up checking on other things with the party and even though it hurts to admit she did forget about him. “Oh baby…” She held one of his hands that was on the table between both of hers.
“I’ve never been the one to cling and I don’t like to be needy but you’ve changed me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I love being in your presence. Maybe I am kind of a baby, but I think wanting your attention is a good sign for a relationship. I’m not asking you to quit your job, but some boundaries would be nice. ”
She felt so bad. He was absolutely right. She had been alone for a long time. She wasn’t used to sharing her life with someone else. An adjustment was obviously needed. “I never meant to make you feel like I wanted anyone or anything more than you. Or that I cared about those things more. I promise that I will work on communicating more with you and not just doing what I want with no consideration for you.” 
He nodded his head, but she had to add one more thing. “You do need to know that sometimes just like you can’t help getting called away the same goes for me. But I’ll talk with Miguel and we’ll work out something that works for us all. I can’t believe I didn’t realize. I’m so-”
Ezekiel cut her off before she could begin criticizing herself. “So amazing, captivating, elevating,” after every word, EZ placed a kiss on the palm of her hand. “Anyway you put it I’m happy to be your man.”
“I’m still salty at you insinuating I was sleeping with Miguel.” She declared, causing him to nod with a sad look on his face.
“How can I make it up to you, mariposa?”
“Hmm…” She pretended to think when she already knew what she wanted. She leaned forward and beckoned him closer with a wiggle of her finger. She whispered in his ear, “I wanna ride you with only your kutte on until you lose your mind.” She lightly bit his ear lobe.
She busted out laughing at how fast he scrambled out of his seat and took her hand, pulling her behind him as he hustled out of the restaurant.
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softsakusas · 4 years ago
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Playfully Yours
ship: atsumu x f! reader
genre: angst??
A/N: proofread??nope, well maybe a little. ahhhh was not expecting this to belong cause I usually write only abt 500 of 600 something words. I hope everyone of you likes it. reblogs are also and very much appreciated.
More stories here
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Gosh. Oh my gosh, out of all the people you had to fall it had to be him. It was as if your memories were hazy, not remembering anything on how you were able to fall for him, it was just there for some reason. It felt like a bucket of cold water was splashed on you, the sudden realization of those feelings made your mind go crazy.
The words “I like him” continue to echo in your mind, yelping and repeating those words startled your group of friends which is mostly girls. Looking at you as if you were crazy, with wide eyes you looked at them and repeated the words again.
With confused stares and some questioning looks as if it was asking to continue on what you suddenly stated.
Without hesitating, you repeated it again continuing with “Not Suna, but him, I don’t why but I suddenly like him for no reason”, replying back to what you were saying, one of your friends, Aika asked who’s the “him” that you keep on babbling about.
With wide eyes and hesitation placed on your voice you stated his name, which is “Atsumu”.
Giving you surprised looks, then proceeding to ask questions whether or not you were serious about it.
Sitting back down, hands on both sides of your head while shaking your head, you then said “I don’t know how, when, what, but I just suddenly did. It was a shock for me, I did not expect anything like just how? I must be an insane one. I’ve known him for like...I don’t know, 5 years now since middle school and this is the first time that I just noticed it. Though it slightly weirds me out just thinking about it”
Looking at each other, Emiko, the smartest out of all you, pats your back then reassuring that sometimes we can’t help what we feel and that it also sometimes eve ourself surprises us, there are things that we don’t truly know on how they were formed and that's alright but our curiosity sometimes gets the best of us continuing with how you shouldn’t let him know or show that you like him and that it's better to tell them about it rather than keeping it to yourself oy it'll get worse or become an even deeper feeling than what you’ll expect.
Giving her a thankful look and agreeing that you will because you don’t really not know what to do about it and because you do not wanna ruin your friendship with him too.
Suddenly, the bell rings, reminding students to go back to their respective class for the time of the day, it not only worried you but it also freaked you out a little remembering that Atsumu was your classmate and worse is the you remembered that he always sits next to you along with his twin and Suna.
So for the rest of the class and remaining day sitting next to him, you remained as if nothing was different and continued on ignoring your feelings, with your mind not helping and constantly reminding you about it. Never in your life you’ve wanted to be buried ten feet underground but right now was the moment you keep on thinking about.
The whole class for the day ended, with the second year trio cleaning up their things, so that they could go straight to their afternoon practice. When suddenly, just as you were about to leave the classroom, Atsumu suddenly called you stating that you forgot your science notebook on top of your desk.
It was because you were in a rush, not wanting to face him yet and also wanting to spend the time alone thinking about your feelings for him.
Breathing deep before turning back to him and acting as if nothing happened, you grab your notebook from him, only looking at his face for a short moment of time then proceeding to thank him.
So the next few days, you continued to act the same and treated him the same while your feelings for him continue to bloom for him just from the small little things he does, like how he continues to buy you drinks after lunch as he does normally.
But, you don’t want to confess to him knowing the reputation that he upholds, despite being a star player of the school. He was also known as a heartbreaker, rejecting confessions left and right, so it really doesn’t help at all with what you were planning to do.
With the result of being friends with him, it is also a fact that whenever you are with Atsumu, you can’t help but feel small from the glares of some of the girls that Atsumu has rejected.
As weeks and months pass by, your feelings continue to grow and have become obvious to everyone and especially him. But he acts as though it didn’t exist.
Suddenly one day, he started acting differently towards you, acting more gentlemanly than he used to towards you and it truly didn’t help you. With your friends giving you looks whenever he does something for you at lunch which is surprisingly weird for him to do, his twin and Suna giving him confusing looks whenever he does it.
So the next few days, with your confuse self, asking Osamu and Suna on how and why is he doing all this and that to her, without even looking at her in the eyes,with heads turn to the side, replying at her saying that they don’t know a thing about it despite knowing in their heads that they do.
So it was a shock to her when one of her friends told her that Atsumu liked her back, her brain suddenly short-circuited from that statement. Then replying a huh, her looks giving her a friend a a mix of surprise and confused look while she feels her cheeks slightly heating up at the thought of Atsumu liking her back.
Imagine her surprise when Atsumu suddenly acts more lovey-dovey towards her, getting flustered at the little things he does like putting his head on her class at class, which she tried to act as if it was just normal.
Their teachers looked at them whenever they were together. To the perspective outside both of them, it would look as if both had been together for a long time. Things like this continue for weeks and it kinda made her happy about it, forget kinda IT really made her so happy with it.
As those days continued, her love for him also grew deeper but not that deep enough yet.
When suddenly one her closest friends, who was with Atsumu at some party of someone she didn’t know revealed something that one thing she didn’t really expect, it was the revelation on how Atsumu was just playing around with her and that he didn’t really feel an ounce of romantic feelings for her and it was amusing to watch her get flustered around him just from the things he does.
She suddenly felt like someone knocked out and punched her chest. She needed to take a lot of breath, her eyes started to water from it and sobs waiting to be cried out.
Suddenly falling back on her chair, tears falling like how the grey clouds cry on a rainy day. With her friend rushing next to her, in order to comfort her then continue on talking “I truly didn’t expect him to do that, so imagine my surprise when he said that at the party, I thought that he was joking especially on how the two of you are really close.
And it made me wanna punch him in the face by how smug he looked when he said those words.” As she continues on crying she can’t help but remember her memories with him for the past weeks, which only made her cry harder and made he sobs louder. Though it was a good thing that both of them were alone in the park, no people were on sight.
As the wind continued to blow, so did she finally calm down. Looking back at her then proceeding to state that she needs to go home and that she wants to be alone for a while reassuring that she won’t do anything stupid. So on her walk home with her head down, fixing herself up so that her parents won’t ask any questions about it.
As she arrives in her room, laying on her bed, contemplating on what to do the next day when he sees him. Listening to music and also reading, she acknowledges herself and also keeps strong and remembers her words in the past, “Just because a boy doesn’t like you, doesn’t mean you are unworthy. But it will help you realize that you have a lot more worth and that chasing after that person will give you a lesson and teach you a lot more on how to not trust people like him. Rather than regretting liking or loving them, it's better to be thankful for the experience and that you were able to know their true colors.”
The next day and weeks you acted as though both of you were back to being friends and that any of it didn’t happen, it was hard but it kinda made you feel a lot better after knowing it. Though the friendship that both of you had in the past was not the same as it was now and this continued on.
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© of megumiisee
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dizzydancingdreamer · 4 years ago
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Persephone's Symphony | Night One | Persephone
Hey lovelies, here's the next part. It's a little longer-- I got carried which, if you know me and my work, tends to happen frequently. I do hope you all enjoy and thank you so much to everyone who has sent me kind words and thoughts and ahhhh thank you!! I am forever grateful. Now, without further adieu...
Synopsis: In which he is the bad one— the dangerous one, the clunky one, the one who only knows how to break things— and she is the good one— the fragile one, the soft one, the one who knows how to put things back together— and he has to keep her alive long enough for anyone else— anyone who can do more than kill— to save her like she deserves to be saved— to save her from him. There are no pomegranates, no three headed dogs, and no requirement to stay— that is, if they don’t count an assassin on the loose out for her neck. In that case, three days in a safe house doesn’t feel like a long time— just long enough for Persephone and Hades to remember why opposites attract.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader (third person)
Warnings: meh some angst, some talk of death-- the normal for this series
Word count: 5.2k (omg)
Previous | Next
Master List
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The rest of the day goes smoothly. Well, as smoothly as a day can go when there’s someone out there trying to kill you. Maybe smooth is the wrong word. For dinner she pops a frozen pizza in the oven— she’s already used up her quota for homestyle cooking on the grilled cheese and, besides, Bucky doesn’t seem to mind. If he does then he doesn’t say anything about it, at least. He pounds back five slices— she really doubts he hates it that much. She eats three. Had it just been her she would have eaten one— maybe. She doesn’t have the energy these days to eat more than that. It’s a paradox, one that has her going to bed tired and waking up exhausted most days.
Something is different with him though. She wants to eat more because it means that she gets to sit a little longer at the creaky wooden table and pretend to be normal. She never thought feeling normal would mean eating cheap pizza with her bodyguard in a safe house but, well, they say normal is relative, right? Usually she eats in the dark, under the glow of whatever movie she deems fit to fill the silence that night. Sitting across from him makes her feel like she has some semblance of her old life back. Like she has a life at all— even if he’s being paid to sit there and listen to her prattle on about nothing.
After dinner is a little more awkward. She spends the next two hours milling about, pretending to read this book of dogs she had found earlier on the coffee table. She had always wanted a dog when she was younger, one of those huge great danes, charcoal black and big enough to snuggle with. The kind that would keep her safe and follow her everywhere she goes. There’s one just like she had always imagined on page one hundred and nine. Sleek and beautiful and huge. That’s probably why she keeps going back to the book.
All she really does is look at the pictures, not that she would tell him that. She can see him glancing at her every so often and she would like to keep her guise of being smart up for as long as possible. She wasn’t lying when she told him that she was the top of her class— she was, and valedictorian too. She is smart. Well, smart when it comes to technology at least. The rest is debatable. Her mother used to tell her that she’s book smart— that if she were kidnapped and dropped off in the middle of nowhere she would be screwed.
If only her mother could see her now— could see that she’s holding up.
You know, if holding up means wanting to scream and cry and throw this stupid Big Book of Dogs against the wall because she can’t scream and cry. She’s holding up on the outside— that’s what matters. If everyday is as bearable as this one then she’ll be able to do all three before she knows it. She’ll be able to sit in the dark, spoon in one hand, Chunky Monkey in the other, and throw whatever the fuck she wants at the wall. For now, though, she just has to look at the pictures of the great dane and swallow her screams like they’re ice cream.
Eventually she stands, shifting on her feet, trying not to cringe when the boards squeak under her. It doesn’t make his head turn and look at her— how can it when his stare has been burning into her since before she stood up? She doesn’t really know what to say— it’s nine-thirty and she could sit there for another two hours— two or three or seven, what’s the difference?— but there’s no point in pushing the inevitable. Eventually she is going to have to get ready for bed and then, by default, actually go to bed.
How is that going to work?
A picture of her laying next to him pops into her mind, one where her limbs are curled tight against her chest, her legs ramrod straight, afraid to even do so much as breathe. Not out of fear that he’d hurt her or anything like that, though. Out of fear that she’d embarrass herself is more accurate. That she would wake up— if she even slept at all— with her body sprawled on top of his like the protagonists in one of her cheesy, unrealistic rom-coms. This isn’t a movie— she doesn’t want it to be. If this is her life’s movie then she wants to have a word with the director. She wants out. This isn’t the script she agreed to.
She doesn’t know what to say so she doesn’t say anything, only gathers her bag from where she stashed it next to the couch. A threadbare messenger bag big enough for a few pairs of leggings, her older brother’s Dodgers t-shirt, and some toiletries. She slings it over her shoulder, acutely aware of the fact that his gaze never leaves her, watching as she straightens and turns, meeting his icy blue eyes without so much as a hint of shame forming in them. Why should he be ashamed? It’s his job— he’s being paid to stare. That’s what she tells herself. It doesn’t make her feel any less exposed— any less seen.
For a moment she just looks at him— like really, truly looks at him. Sure, she’s been with him for roughly twelve hours now. Theoretically she’s had plenty of time to look at him. And of course she has— there’s no way she could have avoided it even if she wanted to. She has looked at him just not like this. Not the details. The facts. That’s what this is— a fact finding mission. Yeah, that sounds right— that’s what she’ll say if he asks, at least.
She takes in his face first, craning her neck slightly to do so. Slightly means far enough that your head touches your shoulders now. She ticks things off in her head as goes— bronzed skin, strong jaw, straight nose. She finds it hard to believe that his nose has never been broken. She drops lower— pink lips, the bottom one fuller. She doesn’t linger there despite the ache that grows in her throat. When was the last time she kissed a man? Too long ago.
She continues on her mission before she has time to stop and think about what it means to stare at her bodyguard’s lips and think about kissing. Absolutely nothing good, that’s what. She tries to distract herself with his broad shoulders and the way his henley stretches at the seams, scrounging for any and every ounce of space. For a moment it works. She starts thinking about the kind of regime one would have to undergo in order to get to his size, then about where he has to buy his clothes, before finally landing on what it would feel like to slip her arms into his shirt and to be totally engulfed—
Nope— she flicks her eyes even further down, skimming over something that, though she’s been looking at it for the better half of all day, she still can’t wrap her head around. His hand. His metal hand. She can feel his stare turn to lead on her forehead— feel him waiting for her to ask.
She’s not going to.
Not because she doesn’t want to know the story. Of course she wants to know! Her whole life is— or at least was— technology. She wants to know why he needs it, who made it, what it’s made of, if it’s connected to his nervous system, if it’s— the idea is there. She’s curious— she’s a scientist. Just like it’s his job to keep her alive, it’s her job to be enthralled by innovation.
That doesn’t mean she’s going to ask though. She likes him too much to do that. He’s nice enough to her and he doesn’t treat her like the little orphan girl that everyone else does. He doesn’t tiptoe around her— not that he could. He’s too big for that. He just doesn’t treat her like a freak, so she won’t treat him like an experiment.
And, of course, he’s a human being not a machine. That’s probably more important. She likes him and he’s a human. Priorities or whatever.
She meets his gaze again, watching him watch her, her face setting on fire. “Bedtime?”
What the fuck is wrong with you, y/n?
He presses his lips together, holding her stare for a beat before shrugging his shoulders, giving the henley a run for its money. “Bedtime.”
She turns at that, scampering up the stairs, listening to the thumping of his boots against the hardwood. It’s not a race but it’s also not not a race— she wants to get to the bathroom before he can so she can lock the door. She needs five minutes. That’s it. Just five minutes. Maybe it is a race.
“Hey— shit— wait!” She doesn’t, she only pumps her legs harder, almost slipping as she bolts into the bathroom, slamming the door and clicking the lock shut.
He really thought she wasn’t going to try that, huh? She learned her lesson this afternoon— the man takes his job very seriously.
The knob jiggles and she sticks her tongue out at it, finally in a space where she can let her bones relax. For the first time all day it feels like her skin isn’t on fire. It’s weird— she almost misses it. The door handle jiggles harder. Almost.
Five minutes, that’s all she needs.
His voice cuts through the door and she almost groans out loud. “You know I’m supposed to—”
“I know—” she starts pulling things out of her bag, hastily dropping what she doesn’t need and gathering what she does onto the vinyl countertop, very much aware of the ticking clock— “but the window in here isn’t even big enough for me to crawl out of so I think I can brush my teeth, yeah?”
She can practically feel the stress rolling off him, seeping under the crack between the door and the tiled floor. Half of her feels guilty but the other half couldn’t care less— she’s a grown ass woman and she will use the toilet without help.
She hears him let out a loud sigh and practically jumps in excitement— she won. “Fine— you get ten minutes, got it? Ten minutes and then I break this door down.”
“Aye-aye, captain.” Thank gods he can’t see her right now or she would most definitely melt through the ground.
“You’re down to seven now.”
She shakes her head at her reflection, scrunching her nose and rolling her eyes at herself— “That’s fair.”
She hurries to slather some toothpaste on her brush, plopping it into her mouth as she shimmies out of her daytime leggings and into her nighttime ones. A fashion icon. She somehow also manages to take her dad’s hoodie off, avoiding the toothbrush and replacing the tank top underneath with a fresh one from her bag. Take that, Barnes.
She scrubs at her teeth, simultaneously digging through her pile of things for the deodorant she knows is in there. She finds it after a moment, rinsing her mouth and running the bar one too many times over her armpits— there’s absolutely no way she’s about to go into that bedroom with even the slight possibility of smelling bad. Especially when she still doesn’t know the sleeping arrangements.
She swipes her things back into her bag, shoving them in roughly, not noticing the hairbrush teetering precariously on the edge of the counter. It’s like it’s taunting her, just waiting to get her in trouble. That’s exactly what it does, too— just as her eyes meet the sinister blue plastic it’s too late, the brush already hurtling off the edge and crashing against the floor. Of course it has to hit the tiles head on and miss the hoodie by an inch. Time freezes for a moment when she hears the clang— well, there go the last three minutes of solitude.
She scrambles back just as the door slams open, fully expecting it but not any less startled, the area where the lock would be splintering into a million tiny pieces of wood— of dust— he pulverized the door! Her heart pounds furiously as Bucky surges forward, his jean clad legs pressing against her exposed shoulder, his body rigid as he does a full circle of the tiny bathroom, yanking back the shower curtain as if an assassin would really think that is the best hiding place. God she’s so fucking mortified.
He doesn’t move away from her when he finally looks down, his dark eyebrows drawn into a tight line, chest heaving so hard she wonders if the material is going to split right down the middle. His leg against her is hot, even through the material. Almost as hot as her face— face, neck, shoulders, toes.
“What happened?”
She meekly holds up the blue plastic brush, squeezing her eyes shut. “He just snuck up on me Bucky— I thought I was a goner.”
She cracks an eye open to his clenched jaw, his still heaving chest now much lower— closer. He takes the brush from her hand, setting it on the counter before offering his own hand— the flesh hand— out to her. She takes it, letting him effortlessly pull her body from the ground without so much as even a grunt. Before she knows it she’s eye level with the buttons on his shirt, leaning all the way back in order to meet his simmering crystal eyes.
“We’re not doing that again.” We’re. As in both of them— a team.
She tries to keep from trembling at his deep voice. It doesn’t work. He notices— of course he notices— and takes a step back. She doesn’t have the heart— or the gall— to tell him that she’s not shaking because she’s afraid of him.
“It was a hairbrush.” She sighs, curling her arms around her chest, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever under the surprisingly bright fluorescents.
Of course now, when she’s standing in a flimsy tank top, is the one time the lights aren’t dimmed.
He doesn’t back down, seething his words between his teeth. “This time— this time it was a hairbrush.”
She shakes her head, dropping her eyes and bending to scoop up her hoodie— she doesn’t want to see him angry at her. It makes her feel guilty; like her her chest is caving in on itself. She doesn’t need that on top of everything else.
“Fine, whatever.” She grabs her bag, brushing by him.
She knows that she’s being childish. She isn’t an idiot, contrary to what her mind likes to tell her. She’s just exhausted. Exhausted of having to always look over her shoulder, exhausted of wondering who’s going to die next— if she’s going to die next, exhausted of having to actively try to stay alive. She’s just exhausted in general. She doesn’t want to die but, gods, if she isn’t so damn tired of having to think about it. Aren’t you supposed to just live? Not think about living?
She pushes open the door to the bedroom, dumping her bag next to the cedar chest at the end of the bed, refusing to turn around when she hears his footsteps— much quieter than she’s yet to hear them— enter behind her. She crosses her arms again, digging her fingers into the flesh hard enough to give herself something to focus on other than how much she wants to rip every strand of hair from her head. Her eyes wander over the olive duvet, noting how the color makes the black iron frame pop in contrast. Maybe she should change up her bedroom back home.
She bites her lip— she’s stalling. It’s a queen sized bed, more than big enough for both of them. Maybe she should offer it to him. There’s barely any room on the floor to sprawl out, only a small space either next to the dresser beside the bed or in front of the chest. Either way he would probably have to lay as stiff as possible to avoid bumping his limbs. The right thing to do would be to offer it to him— to take the floor.
She listens as he takes a step, the air behind her shifting, and she tenses. “Look, I think we should talk—”
“Do you want the bed?” She tries to keep her tone balanced— to keep from hurling the words at him like daggers. Or like hair brushes.
“I’m serious, I’m sor—”
She whirls around, her hair flying around her face, features schooled but tone edging closer towards being unhinged— she just needs to sleep. “Do you want the bed?”
She doesn’t meet his eyes— she’s tired of that game, it's time to start a new one. This one’s called how long can y/n stare at the buttons on his henley until before she sets them on fire out of sheer willpower. His chest deflates, his hands twitching at his sides before curling and slipping behind his back. He’s looking at her— of course he is. It’s all he does. It’s his job.
“You take it.” He says it so quietly she barely hears it, his tone the picture of resignation. It doesn’t make her feel good— she didn’t think it would though.
His stare never leaves her. She’s still not looking at him but she can tell. It makes her skin burn from her ears all the way down to her chest, her skin prickling like she's being prodded by a thousand mini suns. She feels like she’s in the desert and she forgot to put sunscreen on. Is this what flowers feel like? Does the sun beat down so relentlessly on them that they feel like they’re being set on fire? As relentlessly as he watches her?
It’s his job, it’s his job, it’s his job.
“Okay.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
She lays in bed for three hours, eyes wide open and body pin straight. The room is pitch black, spare a hint of light pouring in from under the door. It shines a stripe onto the olive duvet, one that she just barely flicks her wrist back and forth through. Not enough to ruffle the loud blanket— which for the record crinkles louder than a chip bag when she moves even an inch underneath it— but enough to watch the light dance over her skin and keep her from going completely mad. She feels like a cat chasing a laser— entirely moronic but strangely entertained. Alas, all good things must come to an end.
By the time the fourth hour rolls around she is beyond restless. The strip of light got old a half hour ago— which, granted, kept her entertained for far longer than she would be willing to admit but still. Now she wants to move. She needs to move. If she were home she would still be awake. The digital clock beside the bed flashes one-thirty, scarlet red and glaring at her. It’s not even close to the ungodly hour in which she usually crawls into her bed, pulling the blanket over her head and praying for the sun to magically disappear. Not even close.
She can practically hear Lindsy Lohan calling her name— it’s Wednesday, y/n. On Wednesdays we wear pink. Yeah, she knows Lindsy! Unfortunately the big man on the floor doesn’t know that. Usually her Wednesday's aren’t so blocked— is it even Wednesday? It doesn’t matter. She just wants to watch Mean Girls now— with or without the Chunky Monkey.
She waits another ten minutes, mulling the idea over as the anticipation steadily grows in her stomach, churning her organs into soup over the idea of having to tiptoe past her sleeping bodyguard. She holds her breath a few times, making sure his breathing is even and calm. Making sure that he’s asleep. Each time his breaths are the same, gentle, even hiss of air. In, out, pause. In, out, pause. Over and over and over again. For a moment she debates staying and just listening to him breathe for the rest of the night. But no— that’s creepy and she’s sure that she can be in and out without him waking up in the hour and thirty-seven minutes it takes to watch the movie.
Yes she counted and every minute is worth the risk— she’s doing it!
She takes a deep breath, sliding as silently as she can under the covers. Each movement feels magnified— like someone is holding a microphone to her limbs. She just prays that the microphone isn’t connected to his ears. What are the odds that he’s a heavy sleeper? Nevermind, she doesn’t want to know.
After what feels like an eternity of inching her way to the edge of the bed her foot finally shoots over the edge, greeting the chilly air and sending a jolt racing up her spine. She’s really doing it. She slips the other out next, rising onto her elbows and holding the position. She can’t see her legs— hell, she can’t see her hand two feet in front of her face— but she can feel the space depleting as she slips off the mattress. Biting back a hiss as her toes brace against the hardwood, she just barely stops herself from hopping up and down. If she were home she would amp up the theatrics, maybe throw in a squeal for good measure— forget technology, being a drama queen is her true calling.
Just not when there’s a man who she needs to stay asleep laying a few feet away from her.
She shuffles blindly forward, trying to remember where she saw him lay down before she turned off the lamp. That was four hours ago though and she’s starting to think that all that time playing with the crack of light has fried her brain. She thinks he’s near the chest but she can’t be sure.
She could swear—she could drop the loudest f-bomb this planet has ever known. She would, too, if she knew it wouldn’t wake him up. All she wants to do is watch some petty, pretty girls fight over a mediocre brunette. Is that really too much to ask for?
No— the answer is no. So she does what any self respecting woman would do in that situation and she wings it. She guesses. That’s respectable, right? Right. She takes each step with care, searching for any warm spots that might give her a hint as to where he is, all the while chasing after that little crack of light like it’s heaven. Because that’s what it is— a haven from having to lay alone with her thoughts all night.
As was to be expected sooner rather than later, her toes brush against a rather hot patch of wood and she freezes. He’s here— somewhere— she just has no idea where here is. She squints, searching for even a hint of the man. When she comes away with nothing, the scream— the one that’s never quite gone, always just simmering in the back of her throat— surges. She has to swallow— swallow, gag, same thing— in order to keep from foiling her own plan.
She brushes her foot forward. Slowly. Painfully, excruciatingly slowly. When her toes brush against the folds of a blanket she gasps. It slips out before she can stop it and she plasters a hand over her mouth as soon as it happens, praying that it isn’t too late— that there’s still a chance she can make it.
She hears Bucky shift on the ground, holding her breath, her toes a mere foot away from the soldier. She counts in her head— one, two, three, oh fuck is he moving, four— before taking another step. Repeating the process, it takes four rounds of this little tip toe game until her hands finally land against the door frame, searching through the darkness until her fingers curl around the knob. Mean Girls here she comes.
“Where ya’ going?” Bucky’s voice cuts through the night easily, rich and deep and cruel.
There isn’t even a hint of sleep in his tone— he was awake the entire time. Her face flushes, her neck searing hot. She can almost hear her skin crackling where the straps of her tank top touch her. She should have known he wouldn’t be a deep sleeper— or sleeping at all, apparently. Damnit.
“I, ah, was just going to the bathroom?” Really? The bathroom?
She has never been so thankful for the dark than she is in this moment, if only because he can’t see the way she rolls her eyes at her own stupidity and scrunches her entire face up. She can’t scream— that idea’s already been scrapped— so it’s the next best thing. That doesn’t stop her throat from bubbling though, the frustration knocking on her windpipe like the friendly neighbour back for even more sugar.
“You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” She swears for a moment she can hear a hint of laughter in his voice, just enough to make the accusation bearable.
She whirls around, hands glued to her hips and trying not to slam her foot down like an insolent toddler. Something hot flares up in her chest— something which she hasn’t felt in ages. Anger. It makes her want to smack him. She wouldn’t, of course, but she wants to— she wants to wipe the smirk out of his words. She wants to more than she’s wanted to do anything in a very long time.
“What do you want me to say then, hmm?”
She can just make out the way Bucky pushes himself up, his shadowy figure now taking up more space. Taking up space in general— of course now she can see him. If she were closer to him she is sure his head would sit above her belly button, right under her brea— stop that, y/n!
“How ‘bout the truth?” God she can still hear that insufferable smirk.
“That was the truth.”
“It wasn’t.”
His breath comes in hot puffs against her stomach— he’s closer than she thought. She doesn’t realize her tank top has ridden up until his face is inches away from her exposed skin. She tries not to shudder as she yanks the material back down her abdomen. Traitorous body!
She wants to rip her hair out— again. “Yes, it was—”
He’s standing now, pushing his way towards her in the dark until she can feel the heat rolling off his body, face to face with a hulking chest. “Just tell me what you want so we can do it, alright?”
There it is again— we.
She can’t breathe. This seems to be becoming a trend— her not being able to breathe when he’s around her. This time it’s her fault though. She squishes her eyes closed, taking a moment to pull in some much needed air. It does little to help her— it smells like nutmeg and cinnamon. She has no idea how he manages to smell like a bakery— or how she hasn’t noticed until now, when she needs more than anything to pull away from the warmth and not fall deeper into it. Unprofessional, y/n— you’re supposed to be the grieving daughter.
She takes another moment, ignoring how he shifts on his feet, clearly becoming impatient, before finally whispering— “I wanted to watch a movie.”
A pause— a long one— before a soft ‘okay’.
For a moment she thinks she hears him wrong— no way the giant soldier is down for movie night with her. Shouldn’t he be telling her to go back to bed? Telling her that it isn’t in his job description to babysit her— to keep her entertained? Surely he doesn’t actually want to watch a movie.
“You don’t have to—”
“Actually, I do.” Oh yeah. He has to follow her wherever she goes. She almost forgot that she might die.
Die for what— wanting to watch a god damn movie?
“Forget it— it was stupid.”
She goes to brush past him, tucking her shoulders up and into her neck, trying to put some space between them as she tucks tail and slips back towards the bed. Talk about a busted ego.
A hand curls around her forearm, halting her retreat. “Let’s watch a movie— can’t sleep anyway.”
She swallows thickly. If she were to turn her cheek a few inches she is sure it would brush against his shoulder.
“Are you sure?”
“‘Course I am.”
She nods— she knows he can’t see her but she doesn’t trust her voice— and that’s how she ends up watching Mean Girls with a man large enough to rip her in half with his bare hands. A few times she glances over at him, searching through the glow of the TV to the other side of the supple leather couch where his gaze remains locked on the screen. She’s even sure she hears a few breathy laughs— like he’s trying not to laugh but he can’t help it.
The big bad bodyguard likes chick flicks.
About halfway through something unexpected happens— her eyelids begin to heavy. It’s stange, the clock on the wall reads only slightly past two in the morning. She never sleeps before six. Regardless, though, she curls her legs into her body, tucking them under the hoodie she had replaced before leaving the room. Her head slopes against the arm of the couch, eyes fluttering a few times before dropping shut. She’s not going to sleep, obviously— just resting her eyes.
She feels something heavy pool on her lap and the faintest wisps of fingers— some warm and some cold— adjusting the new weight. It brushes against her shin— a blanket. He put a blanket on her. She pulls it closer, dragging it over her cheek, trying her best to stave off the sleep tugging at her limbs. Maybe a conversation will help. There are a few things she’s been meaning to tell him.
“I didn’t mind it.” She whispers it but she’s sure he can hear her over the all but muted TV.
The couch cushions shift, sinking for a moment before stilling. She can picture him facing her now, his head tilted, blue eyes serious. Always on alert, always ready to defend.
“What?” He even sounds defensive— like he’s waiting for her to drop a bomb on him.
Silly man, can’t you see that she can barely even force the last word out of her mouth with how tired she is?
“Doll. I—” she yawns, pulling her limbs closer to her, tucking a hand under her head— “I didn’t mind it.”
He doesn’t say anything right away. If it were daytime she’s sure she would have cared but for now she’s okay not feeling any of the prescribed embarrassment.
“Oh.”
She doesn’t say anything else, only snuggles deeper into the arm of the couch. It must be the exhaustion talking— that’s what she’ll tell herself tomorrow anyway when she’s forced to confront this conversation again. For now she just gives in, letting herself fall into the darkness without fear for what feels like the first time in months.
_________________
Tag List: @xhollycowx @remembered-license @dumble-daddy @hellotvshowtrash @thesummerbucky @elijahs-wife @cari1bunny @im-just-star-dust
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echos-newlegs · 4 years ago
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Hey there y’all, this is my first ever post and it was a request from a friend (idk their tumblr yet, I’ll probably just share it with them on Instagram lmao.) anyways it is a multiple part, Echo x Fem!Reader and you’ve landed on the first part! I will be linking the second part below after I make it. You can message me request too, and I’ll get to them before or after I finish this, I may do some prompt lists 😏 This is post and then Pre-Citadel. Reader has a daughter from a previous relationship and I promise it’ll get more interesting. I’ve never actually wrote and posted a story of any of the clones and I feel like I don’t do Echo any justice, but enough talk here ye be.
(P.S. c/n means child’s name. My friend was very specific with this request)
Part One - Part 2
Echo sat up at the bar. A drink in hand that he was slowly milking. His mind was everywhere but there. He was thinking about the war, sleep, his brothers he’s lost, who he could have and didn’t save. It was all a nightmare and a half. He’d honestly pay for just a simple hug from someone who wasn’t his brothers. Even from Ahsoka. Someone who he knew cared about him, but wasn’t part of him. If that made any sense?
So he stepped away from the bar with a sharp sigh. Patting Fives back. Gloved hand slapping against the others armor. “I’m gunna head for a walk,” “Want me to join ya?” Fives asked in a slur. He was obviously not milking his drinks like Echo was. Causing him to smile with a chuckle, “no, I’ll be fine, you.. Keep an eye on Rex.” He teased and Fives grinned. “You got it, vod.” He spoke and spun in his chair to face the other clones.
The moment Echo stepped out the door he felt a bit better. It wasn’t as stuffy and loud out as it was back in 79’s. Starting his little stroll with a small hum. He wasn’t even sure what he was humming. Just a ramble of tunes he had heard. “Mama, look!” He heard a voice shout. A little one. “C/N! Get back here!”a woman shouted and before Echo could turn around there was someone tapping on the back of his leg. “Mister, are you a clone?” Echo turned, raising an arm and looking down to the child. Brows furrowed, a small smile rising to his face. “Hello to you too, little one, yeah, yeah I am..” he murmured and the little girl squealed. “Mama it is a clone trooper! Are you one of the boys in blue? You have to be! I see you on the holo- Mama!” She rambled, and then shouted when you pulled her from Echo. “I am so so sorry about her.” You spoke. Bags of fruit and other groceries in one hand and stuffed under your arm. Your other hand now holding your daughters hand.
Echo was amazed by how much the kid knew. Smiling softly in amusement. Though he was even more amused when you came into view. You were breath taking, really. Running up behind her and pulling her back from him. Apologizing for the incident. Though he didn’t really mind. “Oh, no need to apologize ma’am, feels nice to be recognized by someone,” he joked, c/n whining a bit. “Mama, he’s part of the five oh first, I know it, I do. I was just asking him questions.” “Well baby, you can’t go running off like that,” “but mama-“ Echo kneeled and caught the girls attention, both of you actually. “You know, good soldiers follow orders, you need to listen to your mama, she just wants you safe,” he spoke. Smiling at the kid and she stared at him in awe. You watching Echo with an intrigued expression. “Yes, mr. clone sir.” She piped and Echo giggled at that. Nudging the girls shoulder. “At ease, solder, I’m an Arc Trooper, not a Captain or Commander, names Echo.” “Echo..” she whispered, “I’m c/n, and this is my mama, and she loves the 501st, and-“ you grew a bit flustered, laughing a bit nervously. “Okay hun, that’s enough. We should probably let him be now.”
Echo stood from where he was crouched, looking you in the face for a moment. “Can I at least help you with your bags,” “y/n,” he smiled as you said your name. “Y/n, it’s the least I could do.” He spoke and you smiled a bit sheepishly. Glancing down to the bags and then back to him. “Sure,” you gave in. You couldn’t say no. His eyes pleaded with you and you lost the battle. Though it wasn’t hard to convince you when help was offered. You handed him some of the bags and he took them. You stuck with less now since he took most of the heavy things. Giving you a look when you went to tell him it was fine. That you could carry them. “Least I can do for a supporter,” he added with a smile that had you smiling black and even blushing a little.
The three of you got to the apartment you lived at. You pulling out your key as your daughter rambled, somethings incoherent. Pushing the door open, your daughter running in, and you following. Turning to motion for echo to follow with a small grin. “C’mon, Arc Trooper,” you added with a grin, snickering slightly as he stumbled a bit through the door.
Echo sat the things down, looking around the house slightly before they landed back onto you. “Would you like to stay for supper?” You asked, putting away some of the groceries. “Nah, I don’t want to intrude.” You smiled, turning as you shut the fridge. “Please? It’s the least I could do, for a helper. Plus you’d make my daughters day, you guys are her hero’s.” You added and he smiled, “Alright, alright, you got me.” He added. Though he was going to say yes even if you would have just said please. He was hungry, and something other than rations sounded like an absolute blessing. Not only that, but he wanted to get to know you more. You intrigued him, you were beautiful and kind. Yet he barely knew you and already wanted to make this a normal thing.
While you fixed up supper Echo ended up wandering off with your daughter. The five year old grabbing his hand and dragging him back into her room to show him her toys. It made you a little nervous, even if he was a clone. You knew he wouldn’t hurt her, but you rarely left anyone alone with her. She was really all you had left. Her father leaving the both of you behind shortly after she was born. So you ventured back while you let some of the meat cook. Seasonings already filling the air and your senses. Peaking into the bedroom to see Echo sitting on the floor with her.. Playing. The sight shocked you more than it did him really. Standing, watching for a moment with a small smile on your face.
Echo was using the toy ship she had, flying it around and imitating noises as your daughter did the same. Brows knitted together just the slightest bit in concentration. “Ahhhh, your ships been hit!” She exclaimed and Echo gasped. “Oh no, Crash landing, or as General Skywalker would say.” “Surprise landing!” The two exclaimed at the same time. Causing the, to break into a fit of giggles. You bringing a hand up to your mouth as you leaned against the door way. Giggling a bit yourself.
Your little laugh made Echos head turn to face the door. “Ma- er- y/n,” “is the food ready mama?” Your daughter interrupted him, and you could swear he was blushing. “It nearly is, go get washed up honey,” you added and your daughter shot up. Tapping Echos shoulder, “C’mon, we have to wash our hands before we eat, Echo.” She stated with a grin and you chuckled as the two passed you to the bathroom. Catching Echos glance and shrug. Which cause you to giggle again. Catching him smile even more before he turned away,
The two came back, your daughter on his shoulders and you were dishing out food for the three of you. “Mama look! I’m big!” She was in a fit of laughter, and he was too. You hadn’t seen her so happy in what felt like forever. “You are, aren’t you?” You cooed a bit and watched as he pulled her off and placed her into a chair. Sitting in his own. “No, mama sits there,” she spoke and you furrowed your brows. “Oh sorry,” “I’m joking,” your daughter blurted with a snicker and you sighed. “She’s full of those.” You rolled your eyes as you sat and Echo seated himself again. Smiling at you as he sat across from you. “Does she get the sense of humor from you?” He asked with a brow raised. You meeting his gaze with a bit of a smirk. “Maybe she does,” causing you both to laugh a bit.
The three of you ate, but it wasn’t without conversation. You had your fair share of questions. Asking about the hand print on his armor. Why he was on Corusant and wandering. Instead of at 79’s like you noticed most other clones were. Which he has an answer for each question. Though he did seem a bit nervous almost. Once finished you instructed your daughter to get ready for bed. Though she was hesitant, she finally did shuffle off to the bathroom to brush her teeth and then her room to get dressed. Leaving you and Echo in the kitchen by yourselves.
You collected all the dishes and placed them in the sink, deciding to do them after he left. “Let me help you,” “You’ve done enough helping today, soldier.” You told him with a grin. “Sit back down, it’s fine.” You added, and he smiled. Doing as told, “yes sir,” he added and you let out a titter. He was so formal and cute.
You sat back down across from him, and he was staring at his hands. “Thank you,” you spoke. He looked up with his brows raised. “For helping, and making my daughters world.” You spoke and he shrugged. “It’s my pleasure, y/n.” You pressed your lips together. Watching him for a moment or two. “I’d love to have you back,” you words shocked him. Watching as your cheeks tinted pink and your eyes darted down to your hands folded on the table. “I mean, if you’re ever on Corusant again, I really enjoyed your company. Don’t find a lot of nice people anymore.” People. The word was vague, meaningless to most, but the fact you didn’t call him a clone made his day. You included him as someone, not what he was. “Plus it’d make c/n’s day.” He smiled and nodded. “I’d love to, I don’t find a lot of people willing to feed, let alone hang out with clones like me.” You scoffed a bit and chuckled. “You’re kidding right?” His smile faded a bit. “No?” “Echo, you’re absolutely wonderful, and I don’t see why People wouldn’t want to hang around you. What? Just because you share the same face with a million other people? That’s ridiculous and people are obviously missing out.”
Your words weren’t much. It wouldn’t mean much to a lot, but to him it was like poetry. Without the rhyming. “Thank you,” he nearly whispered. Staring at you in awe, and you smiled back. Reaching a hand out to place on top of his. It made him jump a bit, causing you to retract your hand. “No no-“ he blurted, clearing his throat. Eyes darting around. “I mean, it’s fine, you’re fine, I just don’t get touched often.” He spoke, voice light and faint. Looking up to you with tinted cheeks. You wanted to pull him over to the couch and just hug on him. He was so sweet, so unloved by those who weren’t his brothers and you could tell. Frowning a bit and you placed your hand back onto him. Watching as his expression changed a bit. Softened even more, if that were even possible. He seemed relaxed. You barely knew him and you wanted him to be as comfortable as possible.
A few moments passed. The two of you sharing glances and unspoken words. Which was soon interrupted by Echos com link. “Echo, we’re heading back, I hope you’re not getting laid right now.” Fives spoke over, drunken giggles following after. Echos tanned face flushed red. Eyes widening and his eyes darting down. “Kriff, I better get going, thank you so much for the food.” He spoke in a near ramble and you couldn’t help but smile. A small giggle following after. “Of course, you should come see me next time you’re in Corusant.” You added, walking him to the door. Both of you smiling like idiots. “Sure thing, how could I not?” He added and you directed your gaze down at the floor. Smiling a bit more. “I’ll be expecting to see you again, then.” And those words were enough to keep Echo fighting hard during the war. The two of you exchanging good byes. Echo making his way back to 79’s. Hoping Fives didn’t just up and leave him.
———————
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costellos · 4 years ago
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author’s note: this wasn’t a request, just something super self-indulgent that I wanted to do! ❤⃛(*ૂ❛ัᴗ❛ั*ૂ) also this ended up taking 2.5 hours to write aldkf;j so much for unwinding at the end of the day. overall, I’m super proud of how this came out — please enjoy!
❥ ┋ ❝ bucci gang realizing that they’re in love!
bruno bucciarati.
Bucciarati realizes he’s in love when he sees you defending civilians.
he is a man made of love. for his people, for his community, for his goals — he firmly believes that everyone and everything can be built on yes, but more importantly, taken care of.
he sees you protecting an elderly couple during a stand battle. in a split second do you throw your stand at the couple, taking a hefty amount of damage in their place. you’re bloody and your arm is definitely broken, but you still turn to them. "you need to leave. now,” you say. although your words are harsh and hoarse, your smile reminds them that yes, everything will be fine, I just need you to trust me.
you didn’t have to protect them. any other gangster would have left them to die. they’re old, no one would miss them.
but you did. you put these two strangers, two no ones at the wrong place at the wrong time, before yourself. even if it meant you’d die.
Bucciarati would visit you shortly after the battle. Giorno had already tended to your wounds, evident by your lack of bandages. his hair is normally neatly placed, but it looks like he had been rustling it, with his clips out of place and the braid atop his head uneven. his concern is apparent; he’s wracked his brain waiting for your recovery. you knew that Bucciarati cared about his team, but when did he care this much? ↳ “I admit, your actions were certainly reckless,” he would say to you, taking a seat beside your bed. “you’re lucky that fight didn’t end worse than it did. nonetheless...” his voice is tired yet soft, comforting. “I’m glad you’re okay. I’m... I’m incredibly glad.”
leone abbacchio.
Abbacchio realizes he’s in love when he sees you upholding true justice.
although he would never admit it, he is haunted by his inability to save his partner during his time as an officer. as such, Abbacchio envies those who back justice in spite of the system Italy lives under.
you’re patrolling one of La Passione’s turfs with him when you see it: two officers harassing a young girl. even though Abbacchio tells you not to get involved, you quickly storm over to the scene. their voices are loud and clear, despite them being several meters away. the girl looks scared.
it turns out she had stolen a handful of painkillers from the corner store. the cops noticed her scurrying out as they were buying a pack of smokes. and now, they were threatening to take her into the station. “I need them for my family!” she explains, but the cops don’t buy it. they huff something about her bringing them to school and selling them to her friends.
“here. I’ll pay for her. just leave her alone.” Abbacchio watches as you flash 30 euros to the cops, more than enough to pay for the medicine. playing them at their own game, he sees. thankfully, they relent, pocketing the money and leaving the scene. and after you talk to the girl, explaining that if she needs more help to come find you, you both leave the scene too.
it’s a brief affair. truthfully, he wouldn’t have gotten himself involved. he wishes you hadn’t either. it would’ve been less of a headache, and now that girl is going to pester you again in the future. but he can’t stop replaying the scene in this head. how you willingly stood up for her, reassured her that everything would be okay. how you smiled and looked so content after the fact. ↳ “ I envy you,” he would say as you walked away from the scene. “doing the right thing is...” he pauses. stupid? naive? “...it’s not easy. you didn’t have to do anything but I admire your valor. just don’t be surprised if that girl comes up at your doorstep begging for more money.” nonetheless, he wants to learn more from you. to be good again, he thinks. maybe then he can be someone that he himself is proud of. and maybe, eventually, he’ll make you proud too.
giorno giovanna.
Giorno realizes he’s in love when he sees your ambition.
he prides himself on his resolve. to him, resolve is committing to something regardless of the difficulties that a person faces. seeing you be so goal-oriented would make him believe that he’s found his match.
it doesn’t have to be a huge goal, like dedicating yourself to a field of practice or learning a new language. it can be as simple as trying to keep your houseplants alive. in fact, those little things come off as more charming to him. it shows that you’re passionate about everything you do, no matter what it is.
seeing you continuously try despite numerous failures would make Giorno’s heart pound. you refuse to give up. even with everything against you, you still roll up your sleeves, take a deep breath, and pick yourself up again. he adores this about you.
he realizes it when you’re rambling about your next move in your goals. your face is so excited, your eyes so wide and bright. your mouth is voicing your steps a million words a minute but all he can focus on is how beautiful you look. the smile on his lips is unmistakable. ↳ “tell me more. I want to know everything. tell me about every detail, every step, what you’ll do when you’re finished... all of it.” he won’t say it — after all, he doesn’t want to come off as too desperate — but he wants to be there every step of the way with you. and when you’ve completed your goal, he wants to be the one next to you, the one to say, “I am so, so proud of you.”
guido mista.
Mista realizes he’s in love when you laugh at one of his jokes.
life should be simple. that’s the mantra he lives by. despite being a gangster, he just wants to have a simple life filled with simple pleasures. one of those ways is through telling stories.
it happens when the group is eating dinner at a local restaurant. Mista is telling some long-winded anecdote, something about how he heroically beat up a landlord for harassing his tenants over money. at the end, it turned out to be the set up for a really brief and really stupid punchline.
everyone is looking at him. “ah? ahhhh?” he muses, but no one responds. the silence in the air is unbearable. hm. wow. is it hot in here or what? finally, Narancia breaks the silence, muttering that he doesn’t get it. Fugo tells him that Mista could have made the joke so much shorter. Bucciarti exhales quickly from his nostrils, a half-assed attempt at laughing. Giorno and Abbacchio don’t say anything.
but then you. oh, you. it takes you a moment to get it, but when you do, your giggling disrupts the awkwardness. it sounds like bells, Mista thinks. sweet bells, ringing like how they used to at the church every Sunday morning in his hometown. it makes him feel warm, welcome, and he can’t help but feel his face flush when he hears your laughing.
Mista stays in place afterwards, pushing his white beans to and fro on his plate. he’s not hungry anymore. he keeps looking up at you, and while he had acknowledged you were attractive before, something about you was now beautiful. you were happy here, with your eyes bright and your smile wide. eventually, he would say: ↳ “hey, thanks for covering me back there. those guys never laugh at anything I say.” he rolls his eyes playfully, adding a slight shrug of his shoulders. “lemme make it up to you. what can I do for you?” he’s trying to be smooth, but he’s so giddy at the prospect at spending more time with you!
narancia ghirga.
Narancia realizes he’s in love when you don’t lose your patience with him.
he doesn’t have much of a formal education. hence, critical thinking skills don’t come easy to him. he tries his best, he really does, but it’s difficult when he’s hardly flexed his brain.
he’s writing a song. nothing fancy, but music has always been a part of Narancia’s life that he wants to give it a go himself. maybe one day he’ll be a famous hip hop artist, touring across Europe and maybe even the U.S. one day! the thought makes him excited. but for now, he needs to establish the lyrics.
rap is easier said than done, though. Fugo is teasing him about his inability to write poetry — what makes Narancia think that he could write a whole song? he grits his teeth and turns back to his paper. 
that’s when you approach him. you sit down with him, asking him what he would like to write about. “oh, uh... growing up in the streets, I guess,” he mumbles. he’s taken aback by your help. plus, talking about it now makes him embarrassed. but you don’t judge him, no; you sit down with him and try to help him nail down the theme. and once you have that, you assist him in finding snappy lyrics and catchy rhymes. 
you don’t criticize him for his ideas. you don’t yell at him for his suggestions. you just listen and add on. the encounter is foreign, to say the least... but not unwelcome. Narancia finds your help incredibly productive (much better than Fugo could ever offer him). and the time goes by so fast! within a few hours, his song is done. yet he’s not happy... no, he starts to feel lonely the moment you stand up, off to assist Bucciarati with whatever he needs. ↳ “wait, hold on, [Name]!” shit. his voice is way too desperate. he softens it as best he can muster: “can... can we write another song sometime? I have a lot more ideas and I can’t do it without you.” fuck. he did it again. but when smile at him and nod, promising that you’ll help him hit the Top 40, Narancia can’t help but smile back.  
panacotta fugo.
Fugo realizes that he’s in love when you put him before yourself.
genius. prodigy. failure. Fugo is defined by how others see him. after his parents abandoned him for leaving an abusive establishment, he finds himself lost in the world. who is he? what is he worth?
he’s escorting you to your mission when his car is attacked by a rival gang. the assault is a blur. he can remember the car flipping over, tumbling off the road and into the Mediterranean Sea. it happens so fast. the salty water surrounding you both. the windshield cracking. the airbag goes off, suffocating him. he can’t see. he can’t breathe. and suddenly, it’s dark.
when he wakes up, he realizes that you’re both on the beach. “where are we?” he musters out. it hurts to talk. you hush him to take it easy, that he had most certainly broken a few ribs. and that’s when he sees it: when he looks down, his wounds are tended to. gashes have been tenderly wrapped in gauze and minor cuts treated with balm. a pain relief patch has been placed on his chest, no doubt where the air bag hit him. but when he looks at you, you’re bleeding through your bandages.
that’s right. there was a first aid kit in the car. based on his injuries, you spent the majority of supplies on him, even though you definitely had it just as bad. “why?” is all he can say.
why? you shake your head. “because you’re my friend,” you answer, adjusting the gauze on his wrist. “I’m taking care of you because you’re worth it.”
your words catch him by surprise. he doesn’t believe it, but... your face is honest enough. his thoughts are jumbled, as mixed as the sand and water at the shore just a few meters away. and when your hand touches his wrist... he shakes his own head.
↳ “you should’ve tended to yourself first.” his tongue tastes of nothing but blood and salt and his words show it. a beat, and gentler this time: “I appreciate your thinking of me. thank you.” that’s all he can say, at least for now. it hurts to much to talk, moreover think. so he places his hand over yours as a gesture of thanks. friends, huh? the idea before sounded laughable, but now... there was something warm about it. the answer to his question — who is he? — had come as quickly as the waves beneath him: a friend.
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binniesthighs · 4 years ago
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two tails | reader x minho |
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Three 
Pairing: self insert, female reader x lee minho 
Genre: strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff 
Tags: neighbors au, comfort fic, catowner!minho, catowner!reader, author!reader, bestfriend!seungmin, floristnpunk!jisung, gradstudent!jeongin, agedup!skz, slow burn, plot driven, gradual romance, lil bit of angst, strained parental relationship, explicit language, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of previous kinda sad relationships 
Word count: 5.4k (y e e h a w) 
Tagging: @lauraneuuh​
Chapters 
P | ONE | TWO | THREE | ?
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zeal noun 
: eagerness and ardent interest in the pursuit of something: fervor 
₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎
Seungmin never liked your cooking, or at least, he’d often mumble this into his spoon while beginning his second serving. He was probably just being nice, or respectful. Your best friend of four years had never been less. 
Aside from the fact the he had a 70 pound golden retriever, never had you once seen a strand of that golden hair cling to the cloth of his winter coats. In the autumn, he would drive you in his hand-me-down ‘91 Mitsubishi to the city where you would tutor the English students just so you wouldn’t have to bear the cold of the subway. In the summers he would toss soju down his throat with you, sitting on the carpet of your living room and turning his head to the side with a hand raised to hide his glass. In the spring, he would remember your birthday--several months before his--and take you to coffee shops and bookstores, then the grocery store (which he knew you hated) and would buy for you the most expensive beef he could find. 
You would cook the meat for the two of you, and he would say that he liked it...even if you had charred it black on the edges. 
Seungmin flicked at the little aluminum tab on his beer can while he watched you murder yet another plate of perfectly fine vegetables on your stovetop. 
“At least it smells nice.” You flipped the circle of white onion. 
“It does.” He returned, nonchalant, flicking the beer tab a little poink. 
“You’re being uncharacteristically quiet. Too tired to complain about those dicks from the marketing team? They put you on a shitty pitch again didn’t they?” 
“Every pitch is a shitty pitch there. God, you wouldn’t believe the kinds of slogans that they make me say sometimes. It’s humiliating.” 
“Hey, you’re the one that took the pay raise over that job at that high school.” 
“Well, you didn’t have rent staring you dead in the face and a dog that’s practically active and sentient enough to be a real child.” He slugged down a sip of his drink. “I’m a single father you know.” 
“As if!” You choked out your laughter. “Since when did you turn into Hyunjin? You were never one for dramatics anyway.” 
“Go get your vegetables, they’ll burn.” He nodded his head to the stove. The thing was, they were already burnt. 
You salvaged what you could of the vegetables then placed them over your rice balls (not intended to be balls in the first place) and the chicken strips which had undoubtedly been seasoned just a little too much. You slid the ceramic bowl in front of him. At least it was steaming. That was a good sign. 
Seungmin nodded a little in thanks, then let out a less than obvious sigh before taking his first bite. 
“Spicy...but good.” 
The way that his breath sounded thin made it convincing enough to you that it wasn’t just “spicy.” 
He scrunched up his face in that adorably puppy-like way that you had long gotten used to. 
“Really. Tell me. It isn’t the pitches. Don’t pretend like I can’t read you.” 
Your best friend squeezed his eyes shut with a rather generous slug of his beer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 
“Whaaaat?” You whined a little while opening up your own can. “Oh my god. It’s that girl from the art division. She has a boyfriend doesn’t she? Dammit.” 
“No.” Your friend drew the disdain in his eyes up to you from the chicken that had made his nose start to run. He wiped at it quickly. 
“I hope it’s not my mother that’s getting to you. She’s too damn nosy for her own good and twice as cocky as she should be. Don’t listen to her. What did she tell you anyway?” 
Seungmin poked at his food with his fork then twisted a crispy-tipped red pepper. “Have you talked to him again?”
“--Minho?”
You shied at the memory of meeting him on his morning run two days prior. He would go out at nearly 8:00 on the dot every morning, just when the sun started to peek into the dewy pink and blue mornings.
“You should put on a sweater if you’re going to get up this early for those plants of yours. Don’t want you catching a cold.”
“Yes.” You answered your friend. A tiny ache pinged at your chest--and it wasn’t the kind that felt all twisted. “He asked me to watch the meteor shower with him this weekend. I hope I can cook something edible for him.”
Seungmin’s knee bounced, “Aren’t you at least at little suspicious of him?”
“Suspicious? Why would I be?”
“You hardly even know anything about him, or where he came from, what he does for a living--”
“--Now you’re starting to sound like my mother Seung. Relax. Besides, sometimes it doesn’t take much to feel...comfortable around a person. I mean, look at us! Soju nights started like, three weeks after we met. And I do know where he works. He works for a company that makes windows; fancy ones.” 
“Windows?” He cocked a brow. 
“He did say that it was kind of boring...” 
“I just--” Your friend sighed out, resting anxious hands on his knees. Here he was again, being nice and respectful, like always. “--You could get hurt if you’re not careful.” 
“What?”
“I’m saying, don’t get your hopes up.” 
“Geez Seung...” Your voice trailed off with a different pain in your chest. This was the kind that twisted. 
His expression softened, and he lent a hand to your shoulder, lingering, squeezing lightly. “Your mom...she told me to look after you...not like I do that already with you falling all over yourself and burning things...I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 
“Hm. Thanks.” 
��You’re also miserable to deal with when you’re sad. You make me blow my grocery budget with how much frickin’ ice cream and freezer tater tots you force me to get.” 
“You like those tater tots too though.” 
₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎
Bomi purred in your lap swaddled into a little ball of white, orange, black and brown. She was napping, or rather, trying to nap with the way that her little cat-shaped eyes blinked slowly. You tried your best to soak every little moment of it up: you knew that with her, it would be fleeting. There was something supremely calming about being close to your little furball like this. After all the love that you poured over her in the form of useless cat toys and new cat food every week, this somehow made it all worth it. 
You tapped lightly at your keyboard, not too harshly, just lightly enough so that you wouldn’t startle your sleeping cat. The tips of your toes were cold, but you didn’t dare to move to grab a blanket to ruin the moment. Outside, a light spring rain befell on your small cement patio. Droplets of the warm showers patted at the roof of your home softly. 
Your eyes had grown tired and dry at this late hour, but the end of the chapter was near. One more time you hovered your mouse over the little notification bar, clicking at it for that one last push of motivation: 
Bomi needs to quit MESSING AROUND. Blaze is right in front of her!!! Ahhhh I want them to get together soooo bad 
Is Herbie okay?? Poor bb, its so cute how we would do anything for Bomi. 
Bomi: 
Blaze: 
*now kiss* 
Are we really getting to the end of Book 1??? This has been such an amazing story N/n, I always look forward to your updates <3 they make my Thursdays hehe 
I can feel like something big and bad is coming...oh no...I hope that Blaze and Bomi make it through  
A thankful little chuckle hummed on your lips, then you pressed enter to start a new paragraph. 
“Oh Bomi,” You exhaled, “If only Blaze knew how you felt too.” 
Chapter 27 
...The group journeyed through the cavern with flickering white flames dancing and casting shadows on the stone walls dripping in stalactites. Bomi held on to the hilt of her sword tighter with a sense of dread creeping up her throat. Blaze looked onward, much as he had been doing these days. 
His leg was wrapped in a bloodied bandage: a reminder of the battle won against the Boar in Hilgram. He had jumped in front of her as he had countless times before. 
“Hello??” Blaze’s voice echoed against the long and winding chambers of the cave. In his tone he was confident, but his shoulders still shook with an uncertainty. 
Herbie’s little hedgehog feet patted the damp floor, and he looked up at his Princess with fear in his soft black eyes. The little velvet banner wrapped around his body had been torn and tattered from one too many battles. 
Had it been darker, Bomi wondered if she had reached out for Blaze’s hand to find in him. She shook her head with her resolve, eyes painfully shut. It was only in the darkness that she allowed herself to want for him. 
₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎
Today must be one of those spring-summer days.
Your warbled reflection chased after you in the blue glass of the university’s library windows. You had hoped that no one was on the other side watching you as you wrinkled up your nose to look like one of those devilish gargoyles that you had been writing of the night before. From the inside, rows and rows of books were lined up perfectly, however there were almost no students inside. It always did make you a little sad how few students would be there when you clocked in for your mandatory office hours.
Spring-summer days meant that the businesswomen on the sidewalks had exchanged with trousers with flowing skirts and little clicky ballet flats and each businessman had his tie and collar tugged down. There was a comforting warmth to the spring air that reminded you of your own college days when you and your friends--long gone now--had stayed up late to study, then would scour the buzzing streets for snacks. Things were much simplier then.
At the library’s entrance, budding tulips and geraniums of light purple hues were greeted by round bumblebees. Had the city not been as loud as it was, you could nearly hear the cicadas in the park on the east edge of the shining silver building.
You bowed slightly to the attendant at the desk who always would smile at you with adorable smiling eyes to match. She would often wear earrings of strange shapes that you had never seen before. She wore a lanyard too that had little cat paw prints decorating it; it was because of this you knew she was someone you could trust.
“Are you having a nice week?” You said to her customarily.
“Oh, I am. It’s always the same around here. My daughter will be having her baby soon! Sometimes I think that I’m more excited than she is.”
“You’ll have to tell me when that happens so I can bring her a gift, okay?”
The attendant smiled warmly, and nodded you off with a little oh, you don’t have to.
“Remember your key card this time?” She watched as you jingled around your own keys with the obsessive amount of plastic and silicon keychains.
You tsked. It seemed like nearly everyone in your life had now known how forgetful you tended to be sometimes.
“Yes. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be over there.”
Once more the two of you exchanged little bows and you made your way over to the back of the four storied library with the atrium of trees in between. There was a marble fountain encircled by the trees that had little oval shaped leaves. Two tiny birds, all black, bounced from branch to branch. It was your secret, but you had written about that fountain many times in your writing, but you were the only one who knew that it was real.
You tapped the reader to hear that familiar do-do doot along with the flash of the green lock. As always, the study room was a bit messy with eraser shavings sprinkled about and the odd dry marker laying next to the trashcan where someone had tried to toss it in, but had missed. The minute hand on the wall clock scooted right on to the 12.
“Are you busy?” That fluff on white hair peeked into your study room just like clockwork.
“For my favorite student? Do you even have to ask?”
Jeongin, the oldest and most attentive student in your class hopped in with his adorably boy-ish charm. Regardless of the fact that he was in the last year of his grad degree, it was impossible for him to look that old. You didn’t have the heart to tell him, but he technically shouldn’t have been in your class for undergrads, but you weren’t going to stop him.
“Why’d you decide to take this class anyway?” You would ask him.
He’d answer, “For fun.” with that cute little smile of his.
“I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“I just got here.” You pulled out a seat for him.
“Oh. Good. I was wondering if you could proof read my short story again. I’m having trouble with the ending. I just don’t think I understand all the way how to make it full circle like you said in lecture.”
He unzipped his leather backpack: obviously a gift from someone in his family that must have thought it would make him look his age. It didn’t. What didn’t help further was how he had adorned it with all kinds of keychains; much like your own keys. It was because of this that you knew he was someone you could trust.
His manuscript already had dozens of scribbles in his own handwriting with tons of question marks riddling the margins. 
“Let me take a look.”
You skimmed the pages of the short story--one which you had already read the week prior--for all of his new edits. The notes made it a bit hard to read, but you were used to how he would make a mess of his papers now. He leaned in close to you with glossy eyes that might have even twinkled a little like a cartoon. Both of his knees bounced furiously while he watched you read, and would look from the paper, to your face, then back to the paper, then back to your face...
“Is-is it good? Better?”
Jeongin had written a love story. His first one that you had known of. It was about a boy and a girl who had met on an airplane, and had been seated together. The two of them found out that they had shared so much about their two lives without ever meeting until this very moment. They had realized they went to the same high school, worked in the same building, and were travelling for the same reason: to meet up with someone that they had once loved. It was beautiful, tragic, and in some ways, familiar.
“I think that it’s wonderful Jeongin. The edits that you made to it from last week really help with the narrative flow as well as the vertical plot. You’re really good at asking the deeper questions behind the piece like “why are they really there,” and “why is it important that they are there.” All you need to do is tie it up.” 
“But howwww?” Jeongin slumped in his wheely chair. “What should I say?” 
“Well...” You tapped your pen to your lip. “The ending scene is when they land at the airport right? Why don’t you have your main character say something that calls back to all of their similarities and makes it seem like they’ve known eachother all along?” 
“But I don’t want it to seem like they’re going to forget eachother.” 
“They won’t. You established that they’ve both found something different than what they were looking for in the first place.” 
Your student’s face tangled up into concentrated knots and he puffed those thin strands of bleached white hair away from his eyes. 
“I could say...‘see you at home’? Or...maybe that’s too cheesy--” 
“--No it’s not! If you like it, I think that it also fits the story well. Its like, now they understand, and they’ve got something in eachother now that they hadn’t had before; also juxtaposing with your themes of travelling to make a reference to home.” 
“Damn, you’re much better at this kind of stuff than I am...” Jeongin wrote down the new ending on his print out. 
“Its just...what I like to do.” 
“I’m glad I came.” He grinned out with his mischievous and trademark smile. “How’s your story going by the way? Almost finished?” 
“Oh...” 
A heat rose in your cheeks. You had decided to tell Jeongin about Princess Bomi a few weeks back, but you had neglected to tell him exactly what the story was about. That was a secret better kept to yourself. 
“Its...good. I think. My readers seem to really like it.” 
“Maybe you’ll let me read it someday. I bet there would be tons of other people who would like to read it too, you know, outside of the internet.” 
“That’s what I’ve been told...” Hyunjin’s urgings echoed in your head. “Maybe...” Your eyes wandered to those scribblings of his. “How about we make a deal?” 
“What kind of deal?” 
“Once we get both of our stories sorted, lets submit them together. I’m sure people would like to read yours too.” 
“Mine?!” Your adorable student’s face flushed as deeply pink as the sweater he wore. “Oh no, no no no no no.” 
“I’m telling you it’s good! Its relatable, raw, well written. It never hurts to try. How about submitting it for the literary journal they do at the end of the semester?” 
“You mean the one that all the arts majors read and fuckin’ eviscerate?? Hell no.” 
“Hey, I could get eviscerated too by my chief editor.” 
Jeongin gulped with his terrified, brown, cartoon-character glistening eyes boring holes into his manuscript. 
You sang, “~Wanna go down together~?” 
“A-as long as we’re going down together...I guess it’s worth a shot.” 
“Alright then!!” 
He made a little sound of disgust, then shoved his papers back into his much-too-old-for-him bag. “That was all I needed to ask you for. Thank you.” He bowed with respect. “I won’t be bothering you for too long today.” 
“You wrote a good story Jeongin.” 
“Mm. Thank you.” His smile turned into a tiny flustered line. 
₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎
STUPID NEW CAT FOOD. AGAIN. 
In one hand, you held the crinkled up grocery list with angry doodles of your cat folded into the corners of the page. You didn’t quite know if cats had eyebrows like the ones you had drawn onto your cat’s smug face, but you were for certain that this cat must’ve had them...and they were angry. 
Bomi had selfishly decided at the end of your week that she no longer liked the last brand of cat food that you had found on the shelves of the grocery store. It was the brand stored next to the one that you had nearly concussed Minho with. 
You were at your wits end. There must have been something wrong with your cat--to hell with her being a picky eater. Maybe she really was just a little alien inside there. A little alien that hated cat food. The image of you sitting at your dining table across from Bomi eating two plates of people food crossed your mind. She picked up the fork with her white paw and dabbed at her mouth with a cloth napkin. The idea didn’t seem the most out of reach. 
In your other hand was your phone opened to the maps app with the small blue dot leading you to the specialty pet store. 
“Damn spoiled, stuck up, good for nothing, pain in my as--” 
“Hey! Blossom??” 
Your head whipped around so fast you cracked the bones of your neck with a startling pop. You rubbed at your neck to ease the pain. 
“You okay?” 
At first you figured you must have dreamt him up in your neck-induced-pain. You cursed at your overactive imagination, still just as strong as it was when you had been small. 
Blaze in the flesh he was alllll the way from his battered Converse to his stupidly handsome curly hair. 
You laughed out incredulously with a hand still glued to the back of your neck. 
“Didn’t think that I would be seeing you around here again. Or at least, I was kind of hoping that I would.” 
He marched right up to you with that same smile you had pictured on Princess Bomi’s companion countless times before. Today he wore a leather jacket over the arms that you knew were covered in all kinds of flowers and vines. It hadn’t quite hit you yet that he had said he was hoping to see you. 
“Sorry if I startled you. I was just...really surprised.” 
“You’re fine, it’s fine.” 
You neck didn’t tell you it was fine. 
“What are you doing around here?” 
“Pet store.” Was all you could get out. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you, but for someone who worked at a flower shop, he did end up smelling an awful lot like flowers. It was a sweet aroma, much like your garden. 
“Ahh, I just got off.” 
You walked on, also not noticing that he had started to follow you a couple steps behind. 
“I realized I didn’t get your name last time.” 
“Oh. It’s Y/n.” 
He hummed with a smirk. “I do kinda like Blossom more.” He crammed his hands into his pants pockets with a wistful little sigh. “Pretty nickname for someone as pretty as yourself.” 
“Psh. Stop.” You had said it sarcastically, but you didn’t intend for your heart to skip as harshly as it did when he had said so. 
“You’ve got a pet then? Dog? Cat?” 
“Cat. Just one.” 
“I wish I could take care of a pet like that. Don’t think I would be too good at it though. I see myself as more of a plant person. They’re quiet, don’t do too much, and they sort of love you back in their own way.” 
“How's that?” 
“By growing. And flowering. Changing colors and looking good in your windowsill. Nothing too crazy.” 
“I...guess I can see what you mean.” 
He flicked at the black hoop pierced into his lip in the way that you certainly hadn’t forgotten; and you were one for forgetting much. 
“Mind if I go in with you? I don’t have a whole lot going on.” 
Jisung. You had also remembered his name. He carried Blaze with him in the way that he had that fiery glint in his eye like he knew he was getting away with something. He was brash and forward, and charming as all hell. The sunset of blood orange and cotton candy pink seemed to melt into his shoulders where he stood before you in the golden hour of the evening. A yellow carnation was tucked into the pocket of his jacket. 
“You don’t have to...” 
He had already made up his mind, and swung open the door to the pet shop neighboring the floral shop. You didn’t know how you had missed it. 
The squawking of birds chimed with the bells hung over the shop door. 
“You coming?” He held it open for you. 
You sheepishly entered before him, nearly tripping on the little incline to the entrance and catching yourself three seconds before disaster. 
Jisung prompted, “Lead the way.” 
Normally you would have been concerned over the cleanliness of the store, but that seemed insignificant compared to the way that he looked around all in his Blaze-like wonder. He widened his eyes at the rows of fish tanks and twiddled with the little feather cat toys at the ends of the isles. 
Granted, he seemed much more immersed in the kinds of aquatic plants and moss balls that they had rather than the cute bunnies and mice, but still, you couldn’t help but shy away when he caught your glances. 
“Glad that I joined ya Blossom.” 
₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎
There was something about Minho that felt like a lullaby. He wore a lavender colored sweater when he arrived at your doorstep: of course it was pooling into paws at his hands as always. The collar dipped deep enough for you to see the tops of his collarbones, and they were gorgeous and curved. His eyes wrinkled a little under his wire framed glasses when he would smile: that of which would also look like the little grin of a bunny. Effortlessly his brown hair kissed his forehead. 
He would speak softly and carefully, and listen to everything that you had said to him as if it was the most important thing in the world. His feet were too big for your spare pair of house slippers and he had a tiny hole in his khaki pants right by the waistline. Minho greeted Bomi with a tiny “aigoo” and she let him sweep her up into his arms where he bounced her lightly. She would never let you do that. Traitor. 
“Your home is very...you.” He had complimented. You had no idea what that meant. 
His lips were pink and glossy with drips of that peach soju that you had bought in the hopes that he would like it. It turned out that it was his favorite flavor. 
You wanted so badly to kiss the peachy flavor off of those lips. 
He had laughed a little at your array of cat-related home decor, laughing the most at your dish towels that had two fat cats on them that looked like chefs. He said that he had seen a movie once and the characters reminded him of that. 
The two of you sat outside on your patio on the wire chairs that would imprint designs into the back of your legs. The air mixed with the smell of your citronella candle and the scent of the roasted duck that you had attempted to make for him. You really shouldn’t have tried to make something for the first time when it was also his first time coming over. 
Maybe he was just being nice, but he had said it tasted good. 
It did not taste good, but rather harshly of salt and too much rosemary. 
Bomi rubbed at his legs under the table and even hiked herself up on two feet to peek into his lap. As much as it hurt to see your traitorous cat act this way, it was because of this that you knew he was someone that you could trust. Minho gave her head scratches and insisted to help you with the dishes--a mistake on his part. It took all of two minutes before you had a mishap with the detachable sink head, and soaked through his sweater. 
“Maybe I just shouldn’t trust you with water then?” He chuckled while dabbing away at the fabric. 
“That probably would be best.” 
Minho was a lullaby in the way that he laid down next to you on that quilt you had made in a crafting class some years ago. All of the patches were disjointed the the color scheme made very little sense, but it was stull functional. He kept his hands folded to his chest with reverence. His chest rose and fell calmly, and his body heat floated over to you. His presence was something familiar and still something that you couldn’t place. 
“Are you getting tired?” He asked you gently. 
You lied, “No, just resting my eyes.” 
“Maybe we shouldn’t have had that much soju then.” He joked into the open air.  
“How much longer?” 
“At least thirty more minutes.” 
He was so warm. Warmer than any chill of the spring night. 
First you would have kissed the peachy flavor on his lips. Then you would have cuddled all up into that lavender sweater which you imagined to be even softer than cat’s fur--or rather--it looked like it could have been. 
“Do you know any constellations?” Minho pointed up to the sky. 
“Not really.” 
“Well, that one is Ursa Major...and over there...that’s Leo. Can you see that it sort of looks like a triangle?” 
“Yes.” You had said, but really you didn’t have a clue, you liked it more hearing him talk about them. “Where did you learn about constellations?” 
“Long time ago. I think it was in school, but, that was so, so long ago.” 
The cool grass under the quilt rustled when he had leaned back up to sit, then dragged quilt attempt #2 over your body and his. 
“It was getting a little cold.” He quietly announced. 
His simple action of doing just that heated up your whole body now knowing that the two of you were trapped together, inches apart. 
Minho tucked his arms to prop up his head. “Thank you for cooking for me. I haven’t had someone other than my mother cook like that for me in a long while.” 
“I’m sorry...I know that it was pretty inedible--” 
“--And thank you for allowing me to come over too. I...realize...I don’t really know what I’m doing that well. I kind of invited myself...I hope that I’m not putting pressure on you or anything...” 
“--Doing what well?” Your heart leapt into your throat. 
“I just haven’t done this in a really long time.” 
This. 
What the hell was “this?” 
“I’m not following...” 
“Letting myself do something fun. Something nice and relaxing.” 
 You had formed a painful little “Oh.” on your lips. Your idea of this was different from his after all. 
“--Something nice and relaxing with you.” 
Another “Oh.” formed, but this one was a thankful one. 
“Can I tell you something?” Minho’s voice was barely in a whisper. 
“What is it?” You looked over at him and he was wrapped in the navy blue light of the night. You could have sworn that you could see the faintest inkling of stars in his eyes. 
He looked back at you in earnest. “I’ve been...scared, too, since moving back out here.” 
“W-why?” 
“There was something in me that was telling me that moving out here wouldn’t fix everything, and that I would be stuck forever on those things that happened, and the things that made me unhappy.” 
“Minho...what are you saying?” 
“-Got my heart broken. Back then. As cliché as the sounds.” He laughed, and it even sounded a twinge embarrassed. “I ran away from it to here. I had figured that it would give me time to get it all back together again.”  
“I-I’m so sorry.” 
“Running is good and all when you can physically remove yourself from what’s chasing you, but some things...” 
Your chest felt heavy. “I know exactly what you’re talking about.” 
“You do?” 
The first summer cicadas had started their nighttime chant, and their hisses ebbed and flowed like sea waves. 
“I feel like...these expectations that my family has of me, my mother...I can’t ever escape them. They’re always there and burned into my head. I think of them even when I don’t want to: get a better job that “contributes”, get married, have grandkids...” 
You paused with your own eyes cast up to the sky. The massive expanse seemed unfathomable. 
“Why is it that we can’t ever be happy doing the things that are supposed to make us happy?” 
The first meteor flew past your eyes with the speed of light, barely slow enough for you to catch it. 
The second was a bit slower, and traced after it a millisecond of white spectral dust. 
“Did you see that??” Without thinking, you poked once at Minho’s arm. 
You couldn’t see, but he had grinned with a weak smile. “I did.” 
All at once, the sky was illuminated with brilliant streaks of light and their white hot heads that would fade and dissapear just as quickly as they arrived. They tore through the sky with astonishing speed and you traced the outline of each line as fast as you could. 
“There’s so many.” You wondered aloud. 
Under the warmth of the haphazard blanket, fingers twisted into yours: careful and tentative, soft and curious.   
Minho breathed out, “I feel pretty happy right now.” 
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keigosbirdie · 3 years ago
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Heyyyooooo, so I just Binged all of your work (for like the seventh time) I was saving the Balmy series for a moment when I really wanted something about Hawks, and today, I was in a very Hawks centric mood.
Anyways, I'm so in love with that series. I absolutely adore the way you write both Hawks and the Reader's childhood and their adulthood in the same chapter.
You're phenomenal at showing and not telling and it's super engaging and imersive.
Also, the creative choice to have Reader call Hawks by his hero name (Hawks) instead of by Keigo was honestly one of my favorite details about your works. To me it just made sense for his character and the way he views the relationship dynamic the two have created for themselves. (That was just a long way of saying that to me, it was in-character for him and it's amazing you can replicate that in the way that you were able to)
I'M JUST SO IN LOVE!! I CAN NEVER EXPLAIN TO YOU THE FULL EXTENT OF MY AFFECTIONS FOR YOUR WRITING
Like, usually I hate wife-and-husband relationships in writing because I'm cynical and I tend to believe marriage is a death sentence to relationships and I don't want to think about that in the world of romantic fiction BUT YOUR WRITING LIKE FLIPPED THAT PERSPECTIVE ON ITS ASS
Like honestly, the way you write Hawks as a hubby is genuinely like, I don't know how to explain it other than exemplary.
I'd marry your interpretation of him, like legit
The Balmy series and everything
I'm also gonna slide your talent of showing and not telling for the second time cause wow, your just amazing
Sorry if this was a little long, I just wanted to properly thank you for the work you put into your writing, as well as just your writing in general
Thank you for being you!
I can't express how much this message means to me ahh so its gonna call for a read more while I try !
Firstly, thanks so much for this sweet message. ;O; It just amazing to me that you like my stories enough to send me such a wonderful message ahhhh!!!! I'm gushing so much right now man jeeze
My fics are fun little projects for me, but also comfort pieces I love to reread! I put a lot of thought and feeling into them, but when it comes to Balmy I didn't expect for it to be just as loved by others ;N; I started writing Balmy when it was apparent my engagement to my long time partner wasn't good for us anymore. It's been exceptionally difficult struggling through all that stuff as well as just - other old wounds and unpleasant things, and when it felt a little too much I would just go on the mountain with Hawks, you know ;n; So, yeah- thank you so much for telling me it means a lot to you as well!
And all the little things you pointed out that you liked about it ahhhhahahahaaaaaaaa I'm gonna rant a little because it was so nice of you to send such a long message and I want to properly respond!
I'm really happy you appreciate that I have reader call him by his hero name. To me, at least, some people say they think it's silly to call him by his hero name romantically. And I can understand why some feel that way, but, for Hawks? I think he would be far more comfortable for his lover to use the name he claims rather than one he hasn't used since he was a child. I'm so happy that you have similar thoughts, and that you enjoy my interpretation of those parts of him! Of course no fanfic author is going to truly portray him perfectly, no one can but his creator, but I try to keep him feeling as him as I can in my fics and I'm glad that comes through ! Also I'm delighted to hear your comments about the marriage dynamic in fics. Of course no ill words towards people who write idealistic versions of marriage! But I have been married and divorced, and one thing I think people miss when they write marriage is struggle. A lot of fics like to make marriage out to be all sweetness and gush and you know - that is totally fine, sometimes thats all you want! but that sweetness truly feels real and earned when you see how hard it can be, with disagreements and tension in between. I'm really glad that you like the way I write their marriage! Of course Balmy is also my idealized version of love, so it isn't perfect either, but hearing you appreciate my writing just makes me gush so much so thank you thank you!!
Anyways ! Sorry for such a long reply, I just really appreciated your sweet ask and wanted to respond in kind ;O;
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obsidiancreates · 3 years ago
Text
Freezer Duty (Part One)
(This was going to be a one-shot but then it reached 4,000 words so now it’s split up)
----------------------------
Amy parks her car and lays her head on the steering wheel. "You can do this. Christmas shopping is already slowing down, you can do this."
She grabs her coffee thermos, a special blend Emma came up with just for the holiday rush days (it had made Amy almost cry with thankful joy, and had made Emma shrink into her sweater and mutter "Whatever," five times straight), and gets out of her car.
The parking lot is mostly empty. Either most of her coworkers took the bus, or Amy is one of the only people on time... again. Not that she blames anyone. The weather is so cold that getting out of bed feels like a death sentence.
As she walks to the doors, she glances at the other cars. Glenn, obviously. As long as she's been working there, he's always been early. Carol, too. Probably planning to mess with Sandra somehow, this kind of stuff is why corporate shouldn't have shut down the in-store HR department. And then...
Jonah's car? He's usually at least a couple of minutes later than her... weird.
She walks past, and pauses. Why are the inside lights on? That means it's unlocked, and she knows Jonah locks his car obsessively. She once saw him lock it five times through the doors of the store. 
Curiosity claims her, and she peeks inside. 
And drops her thermos.
“Oh my go- JONAH!”
The scream is loud enough to summon Glenn. “Amy, what is- AHHHH!” he holds his hands up to his head as he shrieks.
Jonah is laying inside his car, bleeding from the neck.
Amy yanks open the car door and shakes Jonah’s shoulders. “Jonah, Jonah wake up!” As she shakes and calls out, Glenn stands behind her with his hands clasped, frantically praying to both Jesus and the Jewish God in a highly confusing yet heartfelt prayer.
“Jonah!” Amy slaps him in the face in a moment of complete desperation.
Jonah startles awake and puts his hand up to his cheek. “O-ow! What was that for! And...” he looks behind Amy. “... Why is Glenn turning purple.”
“Wh- oh, my god, Glenn, take a breath. Okay, um, Jonah, are you alright?”
“I-I think so... why?”
“Well, because you’re sitting in your turned-off unlocked car, in the middle of winter, passed out with blood on your neck.”
“WHAT?!” Jonah feels his neck. “OH- oh, god this is- this is not good, how did-”
“Our insurance is so bad,” Glenn sobs, “You’re not gonna make it!”
“Glenn, don’t- okay, let’s get you inside and- you’re not still bleeding, right?”
“I don’t think so, but what does critical blood loss feel like? Like would I be able to tell? I need to Google this, just-”
“Yeah, you’re going to be okay. Okay, into the store, Glenn help us out.”
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“Ow.” Jonah winces and flinches away as Amy dabs his neck with a wipe. 
“Pretty dramatic start to the work day, gosh. I hope nothing else happens.” Glenn shakes his hands by his sides and looks around nervously. He leans in and whispers, “Do you think they’ll find another foot? Jonah, what sneakers do you wear?”
“Again, still have both off my feet.” Jonah winces again, and Amy sets down the towel. 
“Okay, it’s all clean, so now we can-”
“Hey guys! Whoa...” Cheyenne stops in her tracks as she enters the breakroom, spreading her arms and stopping everyone else from entering too. There’s an annoyed clamoring for a minute before Garrett just rolls in under her arm. Everyone stoops down to follow, except Marcus, who tries (and fails) to turn it into a game of Limbo.
Garrett looks at the bloody wipes on the table Jonah and Amy are at. “Whoa, dude, what the hell happened?”
Amy sighs. “Jonah was-”
“We found Jonah dying in his car!” Glenn exclaims.
“Not dying!” Jonah and Amy say quickly. 
“He was passed out and bleeding a little,” Amy says to cut any rumors off preemptively, moving the collar of his shirt to get a better look at the wounds.
“In your car? In the middle of winter?”
Glenn nods, his face screwed up with worry. “And no scarf!”
“Oh, you’re for sure gonna die,” Cheyenne says, Mateo nodding in agreement. “It’s like, super cold outside.”
“Honestly I didn’t even feel that cold,” Jonah says, putting his hands up. “I guess my car stayed warm. ... Some-somehow.”
“What were you even doing in there? Are you homeless again? You could always crash at my place. Unless the birds don’t like you, then you’re gone. Nothing personal.” Dina sips her coffee.
“Thank you, for that... generous offer, um, I don’t actually remember.”
Amy pauses her checking. “You don’t?”
“No, I um, I just remember realizing I forgot something and going back into the store to get it, and then coming out and everyone was gone. And then there’s just sort of, nothing. ... That-that actually is more worrying, now that I say it aloud, am-am I dying?”
“Your brain probably froze up and is just taking time to de-thaw,” Marcus says with a flippant gesture. “Happened to my cousin once when we ate too many beer-pops.”
“... Okay, then, what’s a- no, nevermind, I can just guess. I don’t actually think that’s how brain freezes work, but thanks, I think.” 
Marcus smiles and raises his hands in an attempt at a gracious gesture.
“So you don’t remember anything?” Amy asks, bringing the subject back to the alarming and somewhat urgent situation.
“Maybe someone came up behind him and hit him over the head. Blunt force trauma, put him back in his car to make it look like he froze to death, do you know of anyone who wants to kill you? Maybe a disgruntled ex-classmate, customer you bored out of their skull with a pointless story, maybe-”
“That- no. No, I don’t think anyone wants to kill me for telling an invigorating story. And I’d rather not think about that, actually.”
Dina shrugs. “You don’t want to solve the mystery, fine. But don’t blame me when someone you screwed over in a group project cuts off your junk.”
Jonah and Amy stare at Dina for a second, and then Amy shakes her head. “Anyway... I checked, and I don’t think he has anything wrong with his head. Just his neck.”
Mateo glances over, unperturbed but curious. His expression becomes horrified. “Oh, my god! There’s two giant holes in your neck!”
Jonah slaps his hand over the wounds. “WHAT?!”
“They are not giant holes!” Amy shouts as everyone starts chattering. “They’re tiny ones! And-and they’re more like cuts, anyway!”
“Maybe someone injected him with drugs.”
“Why would they do that, Dina?”
“Yeah, who wastes drugs like that?” Cheyenne looks around at everyone else, who have gone silent. “What?”
“And, wait, with two needles?” Garrett points to Jonah’s neck. 
“Maybe they missed a vein the first time.” Dina snorts like it’s an obvious conclusion.
Marcus snaps his fingers. “Maybe it’s some kind of new fancy needle.”
Dina shakes her head. “I keep up to date on drug needle trends. We find too many in the customer bathrooms for me to be out of the loop.”
Glenn startles slightly. “We do?”
“Guys!” Amy gestures at Jonah.
Everyone murmurs some form of “Right!” or “Sorry Jonah.”
“Really, I’m-I’m fine.” Jonah keeps a hand over the holes. “It’s just a little sore, and um, I don’t know, I guess I’m a little chilly and tired, but I’m generally okay.”
“Okay, great!” Dina claps her hands. “You can have an easy assignment today because of the whole ‘attacked for revenge’ thing-”
“That’s not what-”
“Well, no-one knows what happened, so for now my theory is valid. Anyway, I’ll assign you to grocery. Slow over there today, bakery is having a big sale and uh, huh, we had an overstock of powered donuts so it might get wild.”
“Well... thank you, Dina. A slow day sounds good, actually, because I’m starting to get a headache.” Jonah rubs his eyes. “Really bright in here.”
“It’s the standard fluorescents.” Glenn looks up. “Unless corporate had it changed overnight, but I don’t think so...”
Cheyenne tilts her head with a small frown, and looks at Jonah’s neck throughout the rest of the meeting.
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“No way,” Mateo scoffs. “That’s far-fetched gossip, even for us.”
“No, but it would make sense, right?” Cheyenne looks around, and then whispers. “Didn’t notice the cold, lights too bright, two holes in his neck. Jonah totally got bitten by a vampire.” She leans back and nods, eyes wide at her own revelation.
“Vampires aren’t even real though! As much as we might wish they were.”
They glance over at Grocery. Jonah is yawning, leaning against the freezer section. 
“He looks pale, right?” Cheyenne whispers.
“He always looks pale. He could wear non-tinted sunscreen as foundation,” Mateo says with a dismissive wave of his hand. 
“Yeah, I guess. ... Should we try to get a look at his eyes?”
“Chy, I love you, but we’ve got a ton of restocking to do and I don’t want to be all panicked before lunch.”
“Right. Right. Yeah. Probably just like, letting my imagination get the best of me, right? Yeah...”
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“Excuse me?” 
Jonah startles, jumping away from the freezer door. “Hi! Yes, sorry! Um, what-what can I... help you with?”
“Could you please show me where the frozen pizzas are?”
“Sure, ma’am, right this way.” Jonah rubs his eyes, leading her to a different section of the freezer area. 
“Oh, thank you! Could you grab it for me?”
“Wh-why?”
“I don’t like the cold.”
Well, neither does he, and he’s already chilly. But this is his job. Somehow. How did he get here again? His head feel a little foggy, he can’t quite gather his thoughts. 
He reaches in and grabs the pizza. “Okay, here you-”
“No, the ones from the very back.”
“... I-I’m sorry?”
“The back ones are always better.”
“... Alright, I will... reach all the way into the back of the freezer.”
Jonah leans into the freezer, bracing himself for chills and shivers. And...
... Nothing.
It’s cold, but it’s... not bothering him that much. he leans in, grabs the pizza, and leans back out without feeling any more cold than he did prior to the task.
“Thank you, young man. You should grab yourself one too, it’ll put some color into those cheeks.”
The old woman walks away, and Jonah pulls out his phone to look up symptoms of frostbite and hypothermia.
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Justine shakes her head. “I’ve read Twilight a million times, if he was a vampire I would be able to tell.”
“What if we give him some garlic bread, and tell him it’s normal bread?” Sandra suggests.
“Because if he’s just allergic to garlic, we won’t know the difference. Doy.” Marcus scoff-laughs at Sandra and points at her mockingly with his thumb.
“What are you guys talking about?” Garrett asks, rolling up to the group. “Marcus, aren’t you supposed to be unloading a truck right now?”
“Eh, didn’t feel like it. Anyway, we’re trying to figure out if Jonah is a vampire now.”
“Are you serious?”
They all nod. Garrett grins. He folds his hands in his lap. “So what have you tried so far?”
“Nothing yet,” Justine admits.
“We might give him garlic bread,” Sandra says with a shrug. “Is he allergic to garlic?”
“No.”
Sandra lights up. “So it would work!” Her smiles fades. “Oh. But then it might kill him.”
“We can’t do that! The Horsemen stick together, I could never hurt my best friend.” Marcus shakes his head. “What if we just drop something really heavy on him and see if he catches it?”
“That won’t hurt him?” Garrett checks.
“Not if he’s a vampire.”
“Right, right. How about instead of splattering him across the Wheaties boxes, you just ask Glenn to go pester him with Bible stuff?” Garrett would love to see that, Jonah gets to flustered over trying not to offend while trying to get away. It’s hilarious.
Marcus points at Garrett with a smile. “That- yes! Perfect! Thanks man!”
The small group runs off, and Garrett laughs a little to himself as he heads on back to customer service.
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“Oh, this one is one of my favorite verses, so here we go, ahem-”
“Hey, Glenn? Isn’t there a-a rule, against doing this kind of thing at work?”
“Well... technically... but Marcus told me you wanted to know my favorite parts of the Bible, so I just sort of thought why wait.”
“He- really? Because I’m not... known, for being very curious about... the Bible...”
“But you are known for being curious about your friends,” Glenn says with a point and a smile.
Jonah plasters on a smile himself. “Yeah. Yeah, I do tend to-”
“Get a little nosy.”
“... I was going to say get involved, but... I-I guess nosy works too. But um, I’m restocking the ice cream right now, so kind of have to act fast,” Jonah motions at the freezeer.
“Oh, then I’ll make this quick! Okay, this verse says-”
Jonah sighs, rubbing his head. His headache is just getting worse and worse. He’s pretty sure it’s the lights, or maybe the dry-cold freezer air, but Glenn’s babbling is not helping. 
And his voice is really grating right now. It’s not exactly soothing at even the best of times, but Jonah is pretty sure he’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than another round of ‘Top Bible Verses’ from Glenn.
“Okay!” he snaps. “That’s good, that is- that is very much enough! Thank you for sharing something you enjoy with me, now please let me do my job!”
Glenn startles, and then hugs his Bible to his chest. “Fine. Then I guess you don’t get to hear me sing the top five best Psalms. Which is too bad for you, because Jerusha says I do them well enough to be on radio.”
Glenn walks away, and Jonah sighs. He hadn’t meant to snap, it was just really getting on his nerves. ... At least his headache is a little better already without the extra noise.
He watches Glenn walk away, and then catches sight of Justine and Sandra quickly ducking behind another isle. He looks on in confusion for a moment more, and then gets back to work.
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“Okay, we need a real plan,” Justine sighs. 
“For what?” Dina pauses on her way to the coffee pot. “More raccoons? Did they find a snake in the bananas again?”
“We think Jonah night be a vampire,” Sandra says.
Cheyenne stops eating her lunch. “Oh my god, you told them?”
“I couldn’t think of anything else to say!” Mateo defends. “It’s been a boring day! Other than, you know, Jonah almost dying.”
“Wait, you guys think Jonah is a vampire? No way, have you seen him? That’d be too cliche.” Dina scoffs at the idea. And then looks at the ground, a thoughtful frown appearing on her face. “Although the cliche would also mean it makes sense...”
Garrett eats a chip. “Come on, he’d be a terrible vampire. Vampires are supposed to be confidant and suave. Jonah can’t even explain his cookie choices without a five-minute tirade.”
“And he’d cut himself off at least six times in those five minute,” Dina says with a slight wince. “Yeah, he’d be a terrible vampire.”
“I don’t know. Sometimes he’s really confident, and he does that smirk thing?” Sandra says, gesturing to her own mouth for emphasis. “Plus, he always stands like a politician.”
“And he puts way too much product in his hair! That’s a total vampire thing,” Cheyenne says with a definitive shrug.
“He does already have that black-hair-pale-skin thing going for him...” Mateo admits. “If he could be a villain on CW he could be a vampire.”
“And how would he drink blood?” Garrett asks. “Just talk until the person passes out? Ask overly politely in a way that really sounds like he’s trying to ask for sex?”
Everyone murmurs in agreement.
“He would starve,” Cheyenne declares. “Because he’d be picky, too, right?”
“Picky like, about the person’s health?” Mateo asks with a doubtful frown. “He’d probably freak out about not wanting to discriminate though.”
“That would be the starvation,” Dina says with a nod. “He’d be too worried about the socio-political crap of whoever he picks so he’d just debate himself until it was too late.”
“... That’d be kind of funny,” Mateo says quietly.
Everyone thinks for a moment, and then agrees.
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“Hey, Jonah.” Dina snaps her fingers in front of Jonah’s face, jarring him out of his standing sleep. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Sorry, Dina.” Jonah rubs his face. “I feel exhausted.”
“It’s the middle of the day.”
“Yeah! Yeah, I know. Um, what did you need?”
“I need you to go help Brett move some of the exercise equipment, the dolly broke.”
“Wh- so-so we have to move it by hand?”
“You’ve got a little muscle on your noodle arms, you can handle it.” Dina slaps him on the back and walks away. Jonah huffs, hands on his hips. After a moment he shakes his head and moves over to exercise.
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“Okay, now we find out for sure,” Dina says smugly. “No way a Human Jonah could handle the weight of that stuff.”
Everyone is crammed into the surveillance office, watching Jonah on the monitors.
“Should one of us tell Amy about this?” Cheyenne asks. “I feel like we’re leaving her out.”
“It is weird that I’m in on this and not her,” Marcus agrees. “But she’d probably tell us this is ‘dangerous’ or something.”
“She wouldn’t like it at all,” Dina confirms. “Best to just tell her about it later, or let her find out on her own. Later.”
They watch Jonah and Brett work together surprisingly smoothly, moving the heavy equipment with a perfectly human amount of struggling. Dina leans back in her chair with a disappointed sigh. “Dammit. I almost let myself believe in magic...”
“Wait, look!” Cheyenne points to the monitor. 
Everyone looks, excited and hopeful. And they collectively sigh and grumble.
“He’s just talking to a customer,” Mateo says.
“A super rude one! I’ve dealt with him before, he’s a total asshole. Let’s turn on the audio and listen to Jonah freak out.”
“I do love a good Jonah freakout.” Dina turns on the audio.
“Yeah, I-I’m sorry, sir, we just don’t carry that here anymore.”
“This store has carried it for over ten years.”
“Yeah, it’s a bummer! I know I hate when store stop carrying stuff I like. But maybe! Maybe we can view this as a-a chance for personal growth, for you! A chance at... at evolution, at moving forward-”
“Are you mocking me, little bitch boy?”
Everyone gasps. “Oh no he didn’t,” Cheyenne whispers. On the camera, Jonah is clearly taken aback, leaning away from the customer and staring with wide eyes.
“Some... very strong language, sir. Um, no, I just meant that maybe, you know, instead of-of viewing this in the negative-”
“So I’m a negative person?”
“No! No, I can’t- I don’t know you! I can’t make judgements about people that fast! Just- I hope this doesn’t ruin your day, right? And-and I want to see if we can find you a-a replacement, so that you can still have what you want!”
“How important do you think this is to me? You think I’m pathetic? Can’t be happy without my specific little brand?”
“No, I just-”
“I’m gonna need to speak with your bitch of a floor manager or whatever she’s called.”
“... I’m sorry?”
“Your bitch of a floor manager. The loud Latina lady.”
Dina stands up, ready to go beat the man with a bat for talking about her best friend that way. Cheyenne pushes her back down, jaw dropped. “I think Jonah is about to stand up to him,” she says.
Jonah is indeed, looking quite pissed off. He steps closer, and looks the much taller man right in the eyes. Jonah’s a good head shorter, his hair barely coming up to the other man’s chin, yet for some reason unknown the black-and-white monitor shows the customer being the one who leans back.
“You, sir, are a very unpleasant person,” Jonah says in a calm, measured voice. “And I think you need to do some self-reflection. I think you should leave the store, and learn how to talk about people without using the word ‘bitch’, alright?”
It’s so overly polite it’s almost comical. Yet somehow... it works.
The customer stands there for a second, then just... walks away. Jonah watches after him, the calm and collection expression on his face quickly giving way to confusion. He looks around as though wondering if someone else had done something to scare the customer off.
“Confidence boost,” Sandra says softly.
Cheyenne pulls out a notebook and ticks something off. “That counts as evidence.”
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Jonah has no clue what just happened.
One moment he was speaking with a rude customer, the next the customer was walking away and Jonah has no clue why. What he does know was that his headache was slightly better, and that he really wishes his lunch break was sooner because he is famished.
Someone taps him on the shoulder, and he nearly jumps out of his skin. He turns around to see Amy looking at him with slight concern. “You okay? You’re just sort of... staring off into space.”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Uh... yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”
“... I don’t believe you.”
“Well, then you... have trust issues, because I am. I’m fine.”
“... Sure... can I see your neck again, real quick?”
“Why?”
“Because you’re acting weird and I want to make sure you’re not developing an infection that’s getting to your brain?”
“... Yeah, check away.”
Amy checks, and winces. “Youch. Yeah, let’s get some more antibiotics on those.” She starts leading him towards the breakroom. “So, what happened with that customer? I came over right at the tail end, missed the whole thing.”
“Oh. Um... I guess I just, really got through to him.”
“You?”
“Yes, me, why- what is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing! It’s just, usually when you try to calm down a customer you don’t get very far.”
“Well, you know, sometimes people just listen if you hit the right cords-”
“Mmm-hmm, yeah.”
“-I guess I just found the right words to resonate with him, is all I’m saying.” If only he knew what those words were...
Creak
Jonah pauses. “Did-did you just hear that?”
“Hear what?”
Creaaak
Jonah looks up. “I think the ceiling is about to collapse.”
“Why?”
CREAAAAK!
A mass of merch falls from the ceiling! Amy and Jonah both scream, brace themselves, Amy still holding onto Jonah and Jonah still holding onto Amy-!
...
And... they’re a safe distance from it all as it crashes down.
A multitude of raccoons scamper out and scatter, their Nest Of Stolen Goods now revealed. Jonah and Amy watch from the sidelines.
The sidelines!
“How did we get over here?” Amy is staring at the pile.
“... I don’t know,” Jonah replies, staring as well. Oh, what an adrenaline rush, his heart is racing- ... it... should... be racing...
Amy’s hand is still around Jonah’s wrist. She looks at him for a moment, and then shakes off the shock. “Okay, um, let’s get a team to clean this up, and get some antibiotic on your neck.”
“Will that part take a whole team, too?”
“Ha-ha, Jonah. ... I’m just glad neither of us got hurt.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
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“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!” Cheyenne grabs Mateo and starts shaking him. “DID YOU SEE WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!”
“WE ALL SAW!” Mateo shouts, pushing Cheyenne away. He huffs and brushes off his sweater. “All three of us left, anyway.”
Dina taps the monitor. “That’s why you never leave the surveillance room after something mildly interesting happens! Something big always follows!”
“He’s actually a vampire,” Mateo says in disbelief. “He vampire-ran away from that junk, he’s actually a vampire!”
Dina scoff-laughs. “The little guy pulled off one hell of a ruse, huh? Pretty clever, faking amnesia.”
Cheyenne stops her mini victory celebration. “Whoa, why do you think he’s faking?” 
“Because why wouldn’t I? He’s a vampire now, even if he actually doesn’t remember what happened it’s got to be pretty obvious to him that he’s undead. ... Right?”
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“What’re you googling?” Amy dabs at the neck wounds gently with a damp cloth as she prepares to put on the antibiotic cream.
“Symptoms of frostbite and hypothermia. I guess everyone got into my head this morning, and I’ve had some weird stuff happen to me...”
“Well... anything about last night coming back? Could help you figure out whatever symptoms you’ve got.”
“Still nothing.” Jonah rubs his neck when Amy is done dabbing it with the cloth. “I still feel like the day just started, honestly.”
“Oh yeah,” Amy agrees. “Today’s going to be a long day.”
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lilydalexf · 4 years ago
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Old School X is a project interviewing X-Files fanfic authors who were posting fic during the original run of the show. New interviews are posted every Tuesday.
Interview with Tabula Rasa
Tabula Rasa has 8 stories at Gossamer, but there are even more X-Files fics at AO3 and her website. She writes Mulder and Scully in a very lovely way. I've recced 3 of my favorites of her fics here before: Bird in Snow, Fall: East on M St, and Skuamorph. Big thanks to Tabula Rasa for doing this interview.
Does it surprise you that people are still interested in reading your X-Files fanfics and others that were posted during the original run of the show (1993-2002)?
I'm always extremely pleasantly surprised to get kudos (or, very rarely, a comment) on my old fic, but I'm always happy to see it! I did post them all (I think) to AO3. I'm not surprised people are still reading fic, though. It's an iconic show and now with streaming, it's really easy to watch older shows and natural to want fic about them!
What do you think of when you think about your X-Files fandom experience? What did you take away from it?
XF was my first fandom, definitely my first online fandom, and so it will always have a special place in my heart. Also... I had a great time! I stumbled upon and joined the Scullyfic email list by accident, but it was the best thing I could have done. I learned a lot about how to be a writer and how to be in fandom, and those lessons are still important to me. Foundational. Also, in terms of modern fandom drama, XF was more low-key on the drama (although it didn't seem like it at the time!). But I learned something that's always served me well: find like-minded people, and hang out with them. Don't worry about the rest.
Also... you can't control the show, but you kind of can control the canon.
Because of Scully, I ended up taking a forensic anthropology class in university-- and now I have a Master's in a forensic science! Part of the Scully Effect, and proud of it!
Social media didn't really exist during the show's original run. How were you most involved with the X-Files online (atxc, message board, email mailing list, etc.)?
Definitely mostly email list! I never really got the hang of message boards. Posting fic was exhausting, and tbh I never figured out how to work Ephemeral. I checked it every day, though! I loved, after a new episode, everyone sending in their thoughts and reading everyone's experiences together. Fandom was a lot more work back then, tbh!
What did you take away from your experience with X-Files fic or with the fandom in general?
That fic can be just as good, or better, than traditionally published works. There are works of XF fic that have stuck with me for years now, far more than some books I've read. That fan writers can know the characters better than the show writers. The fandom in general was really smart, and mostly more adult than me (I joined fandom when I went away to college, so I always felt at the younger end of the scale. That was good though!).
Also, my first time reading and writing porn. Not gonna lie, I was shocked the first time I accidentally read smut. But I adjusted fast. lol
What was it that got you hooked on the X-Files as a show?
I was still a kid (now we would say preteen) when the show premiered- I think in middle school. But I was already into ghosts, aliens, monsters, solving mysteries, and I'd already imprinted on the dynamic thanks to Square One (really)! I was also just old enough to start developing celebrity crushes. Hilariously, I did not twig to the fact that I'm bisexual the entire time I was in XF fandom, despite having enormous crushes on BOTH Mulder and Scully. Ahhhh!
Also, my whole family was into the show, but I was definitely the one with the hyperfixation. I used to take notes and record the episodes as I watched. It just had the right stuff and hit at the right time. And I've always been obsessive.
What got you involved with X-Files fanfic?
As a kid I also really liked Star Trek, and someone had given my dad a book about the history of Star Trek, which I read. This included mentions of fandom and fanfic. As soon as I had a private-- and perhaps more importantly fast-- internet connection (in college), I went looking for XF fanfic, and that was that. Hooked immediately. Also I shipped them A LOT so that's what I went looking for.
What is your relationship like now to X-Files fandom?
I tend to not go back to a fandom once I have a new fandom, so I wouldn't say I'm in it. I did hang around the edges for the revival, of course, because I wanted to experience that with the same people, but since the revival was mostly not that great (with a few exceptions), I didn't get pulled back into it. But I still think of the people I knew in the fandom a lot, and always hope they're doing well.
Were you involved with any fandoms after the X-Files? If so, what was it like compared to X-Files?
I've never left fandom, and I've been in a BUNCH: Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Bandom, Supernatural, now CQL/The Untamed and other Chinese-media fandoms, with many smaller ones in between or on the side. I feel like at their core fandoms tend to be similar, although where you host the fandom makes a big difference: Livejournal, tumblr, twitter. I think that because fandoms now tend to be bigger and more diverse (which is good) there tends to be more wank (which is bad). In some of them I was close to a group of people, some of them not. Honestly the best thing is when someone you know from an old fandom is in your new fandom. It's so much fun. I have really good friends thanks to fandom, and I've had them for YEARS. Like. 15 years.
Who are some of your favorite fictional characters? Why?
I tend to focus more on ships than characters, but some of my all-time favs: Scully, Hermione, Sirius Black, Castiel, Lan Wangji, Xie Lian. That's just fandom-oriented ones, otherwise we'd be here all day. :D
Do you ever still watch The X-Files or think about Mulder and Scully?
I don't often rewatch episodes any more, although if I come across an ep on tv I might. I definitely still think about them though! For example, I'm a teacher now, and just a couple weeks ago one of my colleagues mentioned he'd heard the students saying they shipped two of their classmates, and he was like "Ship? I don't get it" and I was like "HOO BOY, do I have a story for you!" And I explained how shipping came from XF fandom, and why. That was fun. I definitely still think about Mulder and Scully too-- I mean, they're cultural touchstones, so they do come up sometimes in greater pop culture. Also, I was in Hannibal fandom for a while, and Gillian Anderson is still The Best.
Do you ever still read X-Files fic? Fic in another fandom?
I haven't read XF fic in years, even the ones I remember as being really significant/important to me. I still have my all-time favs saved on an external HD though! Fic in another fandom- every day lol.
Do you have any favorite X-Files fanfic stories or authors?
Blinded by White Light by DashaK has stuck with me. Mr. and Mrs. Smith and the Ruby-Throated Warbler by I forget I'm so sorry -- that's lasted as my ideal post-canon MSR and as an interesting and different way to tell a story.  [Lilydale note: It’s by rah.] I was always thrilled to see fic by Brandon, JET, MaybeAmanda, Syntax6... and, frankly, everyone on the Scullyfic/ Emuse list. So many talented people in that fandom!
What is your favorite of your own fics, X-Files and/or otherwise?
Things Outside, which is the only thing I've ever written based on a dream, and I'm really satisfied with it. It was hard to write but so much fun to revel in the weirdness. I always kind of wanted to write more because I know a lot more about the situation, but otoh, I like the open, ambiguous ending (usually I am very HEA).
In other fandoms, King & Country in bandom (MCR) and in Supernatural I'm very proud of Hope and Clay. I struggle to write casefics even though I love to read them, but that one really worked out.
Do you think you'll ever write another X-Files story? Or dust off and post an oldie that for whatever reason never made it online?
I don't think I'll ever write something new. There is an old fic that may be done but it was smut so I was too shy to post it at the time. In theory if I find it and it's decent, I could post it!
Do you still write fic now? Or other creative work?
I do! I write fic very slowly, but I do write still! I have a million ideas for stories, but I'm so slow at the actual writing part.
Where do you get ideas for stories?
I usually take a jumping-off point from canon, or of course, something I need to fix or expand on. Or sometimes I start telling myself a story as I fall asleep and the idea grabs me long enough I can manage to write it.
What's the story behind your pen name?
I was getting into fandom and realized people didn't use their real names. I flipped through my history book looking for inspiration, and decided tabula rasa was a great name for a writer. I tend to add an X because it's rare to get "tabularasa" as a username, and the X is indeed for X-Files (so I'm something like tabulaxrasa most places). I usually go by Tabula Rasa or Tab, though. And I still use it because 1) it IS a great name for a writer; and 2) it's not fandom-specific so I can keep it in every fandom.
I identify with it so much I have answered to this name in class (oops). I have a "Tab" t-shirt (as in the soda, but I have worn it to Comic-Con for ease of ID-- better than a nametag!). And my mom got me a necklace with a "tab" typewriter key as a charm, which I adore. Yes, I have accidental merch of myself.
Do your friends and family know about your fic and, if so, what have been their reactions?
As you can tell from the above, my family knows (my family being my parents and sister). They are supportive! I think my mom read a couple stories? But obviously she has to know the fandom to get it... I got my sister into fic, and we even wrote a couple fics together (in Gundam Wing). She's a lot more selective about fandoms, but she's joined fandoms on her own, too. She's just not in one constantly, like me. :p
I tend not to tell not-online friends unless I have felt them out and know they're super fannish, or they bring it up first.
Is there a place online (tumblr, twitter, AO3, etc.) where people can find you and/or your stories now?
Most of my old fic is now on AO3 and I hang out on twitter a lot, @tabula_x_rasa
Is there anything else you'd like to share with fans of X-Files fic?
I'm really glad people are still in this fandom! It will always be so important to me. Thank you Lilydale, for this nostalgia trip!
(Posted by Lilydale on March 30, 2021)
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