#I hope this is enough to go on for a little bit

[tinystarbites]

accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

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Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate… I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-“

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.  

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?”, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that’ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

--

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

[fastandcarlos]

Welcome Home : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: as the season comes to an end, oscar finally gets to take you to the place that he calls home 🇦🇺

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liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 48,193 others

ynusername: 2024 season over and out. so proud of all you’ve achieved in papaya this year osc, now to aus and to celebrate in style 🧡

3,058 comments

username1: thank you for always being there and giving oscar all the support in the world 🫶🏻

lilymhe: what am I supposed to do without you for two months 😭😭

username2: enjoy the holidays yn, you guys deserve the best trips ever!

danielricciardo: I’m back in aus for a bit too this break, we’ll have to meet up!

ynusername: @/danielricciardo we were planning on using this time to get away from you 😂

username3: already missing seeing you in the paddock already 💔

oscarpiastri: thank you for being by my side for the year, you’re the best my love 💞

username4: we all know oscar is already winning with you by his side!!

alex_albon: thanks yn…lily is heartbroken without you and apparently now we’ve got to arrange a trip to australia asap 🙄

ynusername: @/alex_albon you know you can’t keep us apart for too long!

alexandrasaintmleux: have the best trip ever girlie, can’t wait to hear all about it ✨

username5: she’s finally going to australia…this is beyond exciting!!!

landonorris: just admit it, you’re gutted you’re not gonna see my face for the next few weeks 😝

ynusername: @/landonorris idk how I’m gonna sleep for the next few weeks without your face in my life

username6: can’t wait for yn and nicole to drive oscar absolutely insane 😂😂

username7: get plenty of rest yn, we can’t wait to see you next season too 💕

iamrebeccad: I already miss you so much it’s not fair!!

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liked by mclaren, danielricciardo and 394,068 others

oscarpiastri: a season full of highs and lows and best of all my first race win. thank you for all the support the season, can’t wait to see you all in 2025 to do it all over again 🧡🏎️

38,068 comments

username8: you’ve made us all so proud oscar, congrats on such a good season 🧡

charles_leclerc: enjoy the time at home my friend, it’s the best time of year!!

landonorris: can’t wait for a few weeks of peace and quiet from you and yn 😂

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris you say that like you don’t third wheel us everywhere we go

username9: enjoy finally getting to go home and seeing your beautiful family!!

ynusername: so proud of how far you’ve come this year, can’t wait to see how next year unfolds ❤️

username10: 2025 cannot come soon enough…⏳

zbrownceo: so proud of your work this year oscar, have the best winter break with yn 🧡

pierregasly: no cheating and getting a head start on that melbourne track whilst you’re there 😉

oscarpiastri: @/pierregasly as if I would do such a thing…

username11: manifesting as many podiums as possible for you for next year 🙏🏻

username12: enjoy your time with yn, you guys are the best!

carlossainz55: looking forward to battling you out on track again next year 🤝

mclaren: enjoy the break oscar, we can’t wait to welcome you back for the 2025 season soon 🧡🏎️

username13: nothing will ever beat budapest, when you became the budaBEST 😉

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liked by logansargeant, jackdoohan and 429,062 others

oscarpiastri: out of office hours has officially started, so excited to head back home for some rest and recovery with my best friend by my side 🇦🇺🥺

42,067 comments

ynusername: can’t wait to explore the place that you call home 💓

username14: I’m so damn excited for you both to get to enjoy home for a little while 🥺

logansargeant: have the most amazing time and make sure you say hi to mama piastri for me!

oscarpiastri: @/logansargeant 🫡🫡🫡

username15: is that a smile I actually see on the face of oscar piastri!?

danielricciardo: hope you guys have the best time, make sure to show yn just how cool us aussies are!!

username16: can’t wait to see what you guys get up to, have the best time!

landonorris: no doubt you’ll tell me all about it when we’re back at the mtc too 😝

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris stop pretending like you won’t ask me all about it anyway 😂

username17: oscar the tour guide looks ready to go 🫡

alex_albon: not jealous at all that you get to enjoy the winter in the sunshine 😧

oscarpiastri: @/alex_albon I’ll be sure to send you a postcard ☀️❤️

username18: I’m already so in love and they’ve barely posted anything 🫠

carmenmmundt: make sure you bring her back in one piece piastri!!

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt you’re so hot when you’re protective 🔥

username19: he called her his best friend…I can’t cope ☺️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carmenmmundt, oscarpiastri and 49,626 others

ynusername: my very own personal tour guide, even if he does keep taking me in the wrong direction ✨

5,027 comments

oscarpiastri: why you gotta expose me like that for?? 😭

ynusername: @/oscarpiastri cause I still don’t know how anyone gets lost in this day and age 😂

username20: forgive him yn, it’s been a while since he was last home 😂

danielricciardo: I’d love to sympathise but it’s like the easiest place in the world to navigate 🤦🏻

username21: everyone praise the lord for maps in the 21st century

carmenmmundt: petition for us to go hiking during the race weekend next year 😘

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt get your boots ready my friend ⛰️

username22: you guys look so happy, my heart is full 💓

landonorris: it’s a good job they have all those signs on track otherwise he’d just end up going round and round 😂

username23: patiently waiting for the moment that yn finally gets to meet the piastri clan…

charles_leclerc: i hope you know how gutted my alex is that i took her skiing in the snow instead of somewhere like this 😂

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc i guess you just gotta do better leclerc ☺️

username24: those views are incredible, oscar must be picking some great spots 🌇

lilymhe: these photos are breathtaking omg 🔥

username25: where do I sign up to be shown around australia by oscar piastri??? ✍️

username26: not oscar forgetting the way round his own hometown 🤦🏻

iamrebeccad: hurry up and bring your ass back to monaco now pls!!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by oscarpiastri, lilymhe and 49,472 others

ynusername: my first evening with my new second family, thank you for making me feel so welcome ✨💞

6,949 comments

username27: omg they finally met 🥺🥺🥺

oscarpiastri: told you they’d love you, although it’s easy to adore you 💕

username28: oscar’s face 🥹 I bet he was so proud showing yn off to them all

danielricciardo: look at baby oscar all grown up 😭

username29: I just want to hear all the gossip and know that they loved yn as much as we all do…

alexandrasaintmleux: I’m so pleased it went well gorgeous, tell me all the deets asap 🫶🏻

username30: I bet she was so nervous to meet them all too 😭

username31: can’t believe oscar actually sat and let yn take a picture of him like that 😂

landonorris: i better still be the number one in mama piastri’s eyes instead of you!!

ynusername: @/landonorris don’t tell her i told you but she said you suck 😂

username32: not the way she calls them her second family like they’re already best pals ☺️☺️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 361,938 others

oscarpiastri: they loved her so much the first time, they invited her back again 🫶🏻🏡

37,021 comments

username33: okay I’m calling it…I can hear wedding bells in the future 🔔

ynusername: i had the best time with you and your family, you’re amazing 💞

oscarpiastri: @/ynusername not as amazing as you, thank you for agreeing to come on this special trip 🥺

username34: i mean it’s impossible not to love yn let’s be honest…

georgerussell63: glad to see you all getting along so well, enjoy the time you have left with the fam my friend!

username35: he looks so proud to have him with her at home 🫠

logansargeant: why do i feel as if I’m no longer the favourite anymore 💔

username36: if it looks like I’ve been crying, I have, they’re just so cute!!

carmenmmundt: I’ll let you off, looks like you’re taking good care of our girl 👀

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt he’s an angel i swear 😇

username37: if you want to see the definition of goals…here you are 🤩

landonorris: stop rubbing it in how happy of a relationship you’re in 🙄

oscarpiastri: @/landonorris this comment couldn’t scream more jealous and single if you tried 😂

username38: arguably the most beautiful couple to ever grace the world of f1 💕

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Yuutsum 1

SUMMARY: What if you also have a Tsum? Then your Tsum and the Tsum of the person you like keep giving signs that they like each other?

CHARACTERS: Twisted Tsumderland 1 Tsumsitters (Riddle; Cater; Leona; Jack; Floyd; Epel; Sebek)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader 

WARNING: Spoilers for the Twisted Tsumderland Event and the Tsumsitter cards Vignettes.

WORD COUNT: An average of 600 words per character.

COMMENTS: This was originally a request from @taruruchi for my 1k celebration. Which you can read here. And since so many readers liked it, I decided to do what I normally do when this happens: Do this for ALL the characters! Grouped by event in this case.

The beginning of the Riddle's part is the same as in the request, but I added a little bit more scenario after that.

I hope you enjoy 😉

Yuutsum 2 (coming soon)

Yuutsum 3 (after going to the English server)

.

With your Tsum in your arms, you find Ace and Deuce, leaning over with their hands on their knees as if they were catching their breath after a run. They look at you first, but quickly the cute little creature you hold in your arms catches their attention. They both have that look on their faces like they think it's the cutest and most beautiful little thing in the world but don't want to admit it.

They say that Riddle also has one of those and it was the one they were chasing and trying to catch, but they lost it. The moment they said Riddle’s name, you felt your Tsum move enthusiastically for a moment.

They hear something, when they look they see Riddle-tsum in the distance and run towards it, starting the chase again. Your Tsum jumps out of your arms and runs with them, which makes you run after them too.

Your Tsum passes Ace and Deuce, which surprises them because they were so fast, and throws itself at Riddle-tsum, rolling together for a few seconds until they both stop. When this happened, Riddle-tsum didn't run away again, and the two were rubbing each other's cheeks happily.

Ace grabbed Riddle-tsum while it was distracted. It seemed upset about being caught. But the moment Deuce grabbed your Tsum that upsetness turn into anger. Riddle-tsum jumped out of Ace's arms, hits him in the face and threw itself right in Deuce's face to make him release your Tsum. Once back on the ground, Riddle-tsum positioned itself between your Tsum and those two. Glaring threateningly at Ace and Deuce.

Once again, it doesn't run away. You finally get close to them and approach the tsums. When Riddle-tsum sees you it relaxes again and looks at you with admiration. As if looking at a royalty.

Ace and Deuce suggest that you try taking them both to Heartslabyul, as Riddle-tsum doesn't seem to like either of them. They were small enough for you to be able to carry them both in your arms without any problems.

You take them both in your arms and Riddle-tsum immediately turns red. It looked like a tomato in white clothes. And it writhed as if it wanted to hide your arms in embarrassment. When you arrive at Heartslabyul, Riddle-tsum's blush had already subsided.

“Ah, prefect.” Riddle says when he sees you, Ace and Deuce arriving. “I see you were the one who managed to catch...” He looks at your arms to see his tsum, but his gaze automatically goes to your tsum instead. “Oh, there is one similar to you too. It looks... as charming as you.” he blushes just a little.

After explaining how you three caught Riddle-tsum, Ace suggests that they leave you and your Tsum with Riddle-tsum to prevent it from escaping again or causing trouble. Or hurt someone else. Riddle hesitates at first, as he is the one responsible for taking care of his tsum. But soon after, Riddle-tsum hits a student for breaking some rule and Riddle starts arguing with it so he stops attacking others.

You place a hand on Riddle's shoulder to try to calm him down a little and at that moment both of your attention went to your tsums. Your Tsum was between you and Riddle-tsum.

“You know, they remind me of the hedgehogs in a way.” Riddle says “And now they are reminding me of when they come closer to smell each other or to rub each other's noses. I can't deny that I find it quite cute whenever they do it.”

And then your Tsum starts rubbing its little round nose against Riddle-tsum's and caressing him to calm him down. And it works. And he returns the affection by staying very close to your Tsum.

Riddle blushes a little again, and says that, reconsidering Ace's suggestion and if you want, you could take care of your tsums together.

You were walking with your Tsum in your arms when you saw Cater and his Tsum on Main Street. Cater-tsum seemed to be curled defensively around something Cater was trying to retrieve.

“Look, you can't have it, okay?!” You hear Carter say to his Tsum as you get close to them.

You greet him by asking what they are doing. Cater gives you a quick glance before turning his attention back to Cater-tsum, as if he's afraid that if he looks away it'll escape.

“Hey, [Y/N]! I'm trying to get my-” He quickly looks back at you, more specifically at the adorable little thing you have in your arms. “Oh!... My!... Great Seven!” He turns his body towards you, his gaze so fixed on your Tsum that he doesn't even blink. “YOU HAVE A TSUM TOO! And it's the most adorable little thing I've ever seen in my life!”

Suddenly you both got jumpscared as something jumps towards you. It was Cater-tsum jumping into your arms! Despite the scare, you manage to catch it and it starts to nestle into your arms and cuddle your Tsum. Cater looks at the floor where Tsum was and sees his cell phone left behind. He retrieves it.

“We HAVE to take a pic of them!” Cater says excitedly “No! We have to do a whole photoshoot! Here! It's a great place to start.”

If you like taking pictures, your Tsum will be very excited. If you are shy, your Tsum will turn around to hide its face in your arms.

“Awwwww~ That’s even more adorable! Pwease! I beg you~" He says to your Tsum. Cater-tsum will also make pleading eyes at your Tsum.

The four of you spend a lot of time taking pictures in different places. Both pictures of the Tsums and of you with Cater. Until Cater and his Tsum have enough pictures to finally let you and your Tsum rest.

You sit on a bench, you with your Tsum on your lap and Cater with his Tsum on his lap, both of them editing photos on his cell phone. However, you feel your Tsum move and leave your lap to headbutt Cater's hand that was holding the cell phone, making it fall against his belly. After that, your tsum just stands there looking at Cater-tsum with a slightly annoyed look. Cater-tsum smiles with its tiny eyes and jumps against your tsum so they can cuddle each other.

Cater looks at the Tsums protecting the cell phone against his chest, watches them for a moment and then looks at you.

“Hey, if you want to do the same, just need to ask, you know~?” Cater says and winks at you.

If you accept, he'll put an arm around your shoulders and edit the photos with you, while your two Tsums cuddle on your laps.

Your Tsum was restless, impatient. It really wanted to go somewhere. So you pick it up and walk around campus trying to understand where it wants to go. Fortunately you don't need to walk far, as the botanical garden is one of the closest points to Ramshackle Dorm.

As soon as you enter, your tsum jumps out of your arms and starts jumping (its way of running) somewhere in the middle of some bushes. And you know that spot well. As soon as you stop seeing it, you hear a patient growl.

“Another one?” You hear Leona's voice. “Hey! What do you think you're doing?!” You follow the voice, pass through the bushes and see Leona lying down with two tsums on top of his torso. Your Tsum and Leona-tsum, cuddled up like two cats sleeping with each other.

“Herbivore, get your stuffie thing out of here and take the one that looks like me with you too. I'm not a nest to have two pesky armadillos sleeping on top of me!”

You kneel down next to him, looking at Leona-tsum with that “HE’S SO CUTE!” twinkle in your eyes. Leona-tsum looks at you and its sleepy eyes suddenly open, almost bulging. And it jumps onto your chest, knowing you would catch it.

“You got one.” Leona said. “Just one more to-” He interrupted himself, looking at his chest and seeing your tsum rising until it approached his face.

If you look at his face, you will see Leona's pupils dilating. And your tsum snuggling against his chest. You comment that you don't think your tsum will want to leave his side.

“Why don't you walk away with that one and see what happens? Maybe yours will follow.”

You are also curious to know what would happen. Leona-tsum was already sleeping in your arms.

You walk away with him, towards the exit of the botanical garden. Halfway there it wakes up and you feel it move in your arms. You stop and look at it. It seemed to have an annoyed look on his face, very similar to what Leona does when things aren't going according to his plans. You open your mouth to say or ask something, but it's Leona's voice that can be heard throughout the botanical garden.

“OI!” You hear Leona growl in annoyance. “Who do you think you are demanding anythin’ from me?!” And then you hear him roar.

You come back with Leona-tsum in your arms, and you find your tsum pulling one of Leona's braids towards you as if he wanted to force him to come to you.

“This thing really takes after you.” he comments, in a tone reminiscent of a father irritated with a child he deep down loves.

Leona tsum jumps out of your arms and lazily approaches your tsum. Your tsum lets go of Leona's braid.

You both see Leona-tsum rubbing his cheek on your Tsum's cheek, and making a movement as if it was licking your Tsum's face. After calming your tsum down, the two of them curl up to sleep together.

“Well, at least they're not bothering me anymore.” Leona says. He closes his eyes, but right after, he opens one of them again to look at you. “If you're also going to stay here with your stuffie thing, at least be useful. This floor isn't the best pillow, you know?” He makes that gesture for you to come closer with his index finger.

And if you let him use your lap to to lie down, he will fall asleep in 3 seconds, just like his Tsum did.

You were in the Ramshackle Dorm Lounge with your Tsum and Grim was in your bedroom, probably taking a nap after eating too much, when you hear someone knocking at the door. You go open the door, leaving your Tsum on the couch. You open the door and see Jack.

“Hi [Y/N]. Sorry to bother you, but this Tsum-” Before Jack could finish his sentence, you saw something near your feet come barreling through the door. You look back in time to see Jack-tsum turn to enter the Lounge. “Ah! Sorry. It won't sit still. Let's catch it before it does any damage.”

The two of you go to the lounge and stop right at the entrance. Jack-tsum was on the couch with your Tsum. Jack-tsum was jumping around your Tsum, its little tail wagging like crazy, and its eyes shining while also rubbing its face against your Tsum’s as if licking it. It was just like a puppy wanting to play.

“OI!” Jack shouted “Don't mess up [Y/N]'s couch!”

Jack-tsum sulked and your Tsum jumped from the couch to the floor. Jack-tsum followed it. Your Tsum approached Jack and smiled at him with its eyes, as if it were greeting him.

“Hum?” Jack’s ears pricked up as he looked down. “You also have a Tsum similar to you.” He didn't realize his tail had started wagging.

Jack-tsum followed your Tsum and you felt the need to bend down to see Jack-tsum up close. It looked at you with big bright eyes and its tail wagging wildly. You comment on how cute it is and reach out to pet it.

“Be careful.” Jack warns you “It doesn't let anyone...” You start to pet its head as it leans in your hand. “... touch it... What's the deal with this thing? Whenever anyone approached it would either move away or growl at them. How did you do that? I can't even catch it to take it to Savanaclaw.”

You say you don't know what you did either, if anything special. And you comment that it seems to like you. This makes Jack blush slightly.

“How would it not?” he says softly, and without meaning to. He clears his throat. “Um, do you mind if we stay here for a while? It seems to have finally settle down a bit.”

Your tsum goes to Jack-tsum's side and they both look at you as if begging you to say yes. You agree and the two Tsums bounce happily for a moment before they start running around the lounge together.

“OI! You two be careful!” Jack warns “Don't break or mess anything up, you hear?!”

You laugh and comment on how much you think Jack and his Tsum look alike.

“It's just the hair and the outfit.” he says a little embarrassed “Do I look round and soft?!”

“Round maybe not but soft...” You laugh and he blushes.

Before he could open his mouth to try to respond to that, the tsums started running towards you and ended up bump into you as they passed, which made you lose your balance. Jack catches you.

“What did I say?” he shouts to the tsums. He looks at you. "Are you okay?" In his arms, and he releases you, blushing a little. “Sorry about that.” he rubs the back of his neck. “It had never done this.”

“Maybe it was a bad influence.” you say and look at the Tsums. From the looks on their faces, especially your Tsum’s, it wasn't an accident.

You were walking down the Main Street with your Tsum in your arms when you hear footsteps running behind you, approaching quickly. You turn around in shock and see a very tall figure right in front of you. Then you realize it's Floyd.

“Boo~” Floyd smiles at you with something writhing violently in his arms. You look and see his Tsum trying to get free. You also notice, by the way he is holding Floyd-tsum, that he is using a lot of force. “Hi Koebi-chan~. Whatcha doin'~?” He sees something in your arms and looks to find your Tsum. “Woo! You have one too! And it looks so small and weak like you, how cute! He he.”

(What you don't know is that what really happened was that Floyd-tsum was loose and took off running when it saw you. The footsteps you heard were Floyd running to catch it before Floyd-tsum caught you.)

Your Tsum made a sulky face, while Floyd-tsum continued to struggle in Floyd's arms. You say Floyd-tsum is also very cute, it stops and looks at you with smiling little eyes.

“Do you wanna play with it?” Floyd asks and you say yes. “Sure, but careful how you handle it. It’s easy to set this guy-” The moment he let his arms go slack for a second, Floyd-tsum jumped into your arms.

With difficulty, but you managed to catch it without letting your tsum fall. Now you had them both in your arms. You saw it squeezing your tsum while it snuggled into your arms. However, your tsum didn't seem uncomfortable, quite the opposite, it felt like a passionate everyday hug.

Between letting Floyd-tsum jump out of his arms, until realizing that it wouldn't hurt you, Floyd stared at his Tsum with that serious face that all students who know him the least bit fear.

“Aw~ Aren't they cute together?” he says with his usual relaxed expression. He sees that you are having difficulty holding both tsums. “Let them go. They can walk on their own. Or hop, I guess.”

You do so. The two Tsums land on the ground and Floyd-tsum jumps up to continue hugging your Tsum. But before it can, Floyd quickly picks up your Tsum in his arms and starts squeezing it too.

“MY TURN!” Floyd says to his Tsum.

This one sulks, looks at you and jumps back towards you. You catch it and it hugs your forearm. You and Floyd laugh, until the pressure in your arm starts to increase to the point where it starts to hurt. The moment you grimace, Floyd's expression changes, he lets go of your tsum and rips his off your arm.

“I warned you.” he says to his tsum, with the same face he uses to threaten students who don't pay Azul. “Someone is not keeping their side of the deal.”

Floyd-tsum manages to escape and hugs your tsum again, but without hurting it. Floyd looks at you, who looks slightly sad, and sees you rubbing the forearm that Tsum was squeezing. He holds your wrist to see better. There is a slight reddish mark. He lets go of your wrist, turns to the Tsums and lifts his foot as if to step on his tsum. Before you could stop him, your tsum does it, getting out of Floyd-tsum's embrace and positioning itself between it and Floyd's sole when he was about to hit his Tsum. He looks at your tsum's fearless face for a moment and laughs heartily.

“HA HA HA HA! It also takes after you, Koebi-chan~” He puts his foot back on the ground and turns back to you. “We were going to Mostro Lounge. Do you want to come?”

With your Tsum in your arms, you were walking down Main Street when you heard a scream. It sounded like someone was being attacked by a dog or something. You follow the sound and see Epel, another Pomefiore student, and an Epel-tsum attacking this student while Epel tries to stop it.

Your tsum jumps out of your arms and runs (or hops) towards them until it stops between Epel-tsum and the student, preventing the tsum from attacking him again. And then, your tsum headbutted Epel-tsum so hard that it even knocked it upside down for a moment. Enough time for Epel to catch it. The other student runs away and Epel-tsum begins to struggle in Epel's arms.

“Stop it!” Epel complained “Ya can't go aroun´ attackin´ students!”

You approach them asking if everything is okay and if he need help. Epel-tsum stops and looks at you. You smile when you see that Epel also has a tsum and comment on how cute it is (like any tsum).

“No! Don't call it that!” The Tsum manages to jump out of Epel's arms and towards you.

He panics, but instead of the Tsum hitting you, it lands in your arms and just looks at you with a sulky face. You say it's still being cute, and once again, instead of it attacking you, its little face turns red with blush.

Epel freezes, completely confused for a moment until he thinks about what could be the possible reason for you being the only person who called the Tsum cute and it didn't attack. And when he thinks of the most likely reason, he also blushes.

Your tsum also jumped into Epel's arms, surprising him. It smiles at him with its cute little eyes and his blush deepens. Your voice is the only thing that makes Epel look away from your Tsum, asking if you could accompany him and his Tsum if they were going to Pomefiore.

In his dorm, needless to say, Rook wasted no time praising the Tsums, both Epel's and yours. But since Epel's Tsum didn't seem to appreciate the comments very much, especially if they focused on the fact that he was cute, Rook ended up turning his attention to your Tsum, which ended up bothering Epel's Tsum even more.

“It looks like someone is jaloux.” Rook says smiling amused.

That was the only thing that made Epel-tsum throw itself at him, to attack. Rook dodged it like a bullfighter with the grace of someone who was expecting it. Epel panicked and quickly picked up his tsum and apologized to Rook.

“There is no reason to apologize, Monsieur Pommette.” Rook says, loving the situation more than he should. “Truly. I must confess that my provocation was premeditated. C'est tellement beau to see your true feelings and emotions through your Tsum's lack of filter.”

“WHA-?! WHAT IS THIS SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!”

Rook just laughs, winks at Epel and starts walking towards the door. Halfway there he passes you, leans over and whispers in your ear: “Could you tame the little beast for us, Trickster?” and leaves.

Epel's Tsum struggled in his arms, angry... with jealousy.

Your Tsum was restless, impatient. It really wanted to go somewhere. So you pick it up and walk around campus trying to understand where it wants to go. You leave Ramshackle Dorm, pass the Botanical Garden and the Alchemy Workshop and arrive at the Hall of Mirrors.

As soon as you enter, your Tsum escapes from your arms and quickly jumps until it enters the mirror of Diasmonia. You follow it, but you realize that you lost sight of it the moment it passed through the mirror.

“Good afternoon, [Y/N]!” Lilia is the first to come and greet you. “To what do we owe such a wonderful surprise visit?”

You tell him about your tsum.

“Ah yes! Sebek also has a cute little lookalike. I can't wait to see yours. Although if it's as adorable or even more adorable than you, we're going to have a cuteness overdose problem in this dorm. Khe he. Well, from what I understand, and despite Sebek denying it, the personality of these tsums is very similar to the personality of those they physically resemble. So if your tsum wanted to come here, where do you think it would have gone? Where would you want to go?”

You don't think about a ‘where’ but rather a ‘who’ and that may have shown on your face, beacuse Lilia laughs amusedly.

“So maybe your tsum went to meet someone? Maybe a fellow tsum? Khe he he. I suggest we look for Malleus. Wherever he is, Sebek and Silver will be there too.”

The two of you head to the lounge, but before you get there you can already hear all the commotion. Aka: Sebek’s thunderous voice.

“Don't look at me like that! No matter who your looks resemble, you're bothering Malleus-sama and meddling in our, I mean my guard duties!”

“Actually,” You hear Malleus's patient voice say. “I am quite enjoying this little one's presence. It's as pleasant as [Y/N]'s own presence. Wouldn't you agree, Sebek?”

“HUM?! Yes! Of course sir! Please forgive me for implying that this Tsum's presence was inconvenient.”

You and Lilia arrive at the lounge and approach those two. Sebek, as expected, was standing very straight next to Malleus, who was sitting in one of the sofas. Coming closer, you see that both your Tsum and Sebek's Tsum are in Malleus' lap. And Sebek-tsum looked like it was... about to cry?

“AWW~ Look at you.” Lilia said, your Tsum turned to him. “You are even cuter than I imagined. *sigh* What an unfair competition. Ke he.”

The moment Sebek-tsum sees you is when it finally starts crying.

“HUM?! What is wrong with you?” Sebek inquires. “You are such a strange creature.”

“I think it's an too much emotion to see so many people it likes together.” Lilia says with a smirk.

“W-Well, regardless, it should learn to control itself!”

You come closer, worried about Sebek-tsum, and ask if it would like a hug to feel better. It looks at you, then at Malleus, back at you, Malleus, you, Malleus, and on until it almost gets dizzy and the indecision seems to make it more sad.

“I think I have an idea.” Malleus says. “[Y/N], would you like to sit next to me?”

You sit down, he asks you to come closer until your thighs touch, so he can place Sebek-tsum on both of your laps at the same time. It, still in tears, seemed to be thanking Malleus with his eyes and head.

“How intelligent and generous, my liege!” Even Sebek himself had a tear in the corner of his eye.

He was about to continue his praise when your Tsum jumped from Malleus' lap into Sebek's hands. He caught it as if he was saving it from a fall. It looked at him and smiled with its eyes.

“How precious.” He said with a tender smile, as he was still emotional about Malleus's act. Then he realized what he had just said and blushed in embarrassment. But he didn't stop holding your Tsum.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[jarofstyles]

The Favor 11

Dear lord… this took a million years to write and I’m sorry for that 😭 I’ve never written something of this nature before and I wanted to get it right. I hope you enjoy because this is a shift in the whole thing!

The Favor masterlist

Check out our Patreon for early access to part 12 and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 6.5k

Warnings- cuckolding, Danny (ew), bd/sm elements, dom/sub dynamics, unprotected sex, creampie, slight angst, fluff, obvious smut, soft dom!h, kinda asshole h (to Danny hehe)

Y/N wasn’t sure what she had thought this sort of scenario would look like, but she was putting her trust in Harry. In this case, it was her trusting him to set this up at a hotel instead of his place, saying that neutral ground would be better in case Danny had an unsavory reaction. 

It was a classy joint, that much was obvious. He’d painted it as a weekend staycation for the both of them, which she liked more than she cared to admit- but there were mixed reaction she had in the idea of Danny being there at all. It was like an intrusion in a way, having him look in to their private little world… but on the other hand, she wanted to show him how far gone she was for him. How Harry could provide for her things that she needed and he could never provide. 

“Y’alright, pet?” He stroked over her hair as he knelt down in front of her. His shirt had been discarded to the side not too long ago, setting up the bed for their activity. The dominant had ran through what would be happening tonight with her a number of times to make sure she felt safe and comfortable, but there was nothing like the anticipation of her boyfriend she was actively planning on dumping coming up to watch the man she was utterly infatuated with give her the type of sex that had made her dream come true. 

“Yeah. A little nervous.” The admission was quiet, her eyes reaching his own. It was instant comfort. Another reason why she knew it was the right thing to break up with Danny. As cruel as it may sound, she’d be doing him a favor. Never in her life had she had just a simple look calming her down. Perhaps it was the trust, maybe it was the familiar, but there was no doubt in her mind that Harry was going to take care of her. 

“That’s alright, and very normal.” He reassured. “But it’s not too late to cancel. It’s never too late to stop. The moment you color, we can stop and we can send him out. Okay?” The tenderness he treated her with had never failed to make her fall further down the cracks, right into the palm of his hand. 

“I know. I trust you.” Reaching out, her hands cupped his face and impulsively brought him forward. 

It was something that had started to become normal. The kissing like lovers, kissing for comfort and passion, and it far exceeded what a strictly Dominant and Submissive relationship would be, but they both knew it was much more than that. He was going to be hers Officially soon enough, and selfishly he was giving in. Indulging, smug that finally she had decided to drop the man- and better yet, prove to him that it was only the natural choice. 

Humming into the kiss, he stood up and guided her to follow, securing his hand over her throat and giving it a gentle squeeze as he pulled back. Wet lips and a soft pant, he thumbed over her lip and wiped away a bit of the slickness his tongue had left. “I trust you, too. And m’happy that you’re….” He paused for a second. “I’m happy that you are leaving a relationship that isn’t good for you.” 

It was a moment she could have ignored, simply nodding her head, but she could see that subconsciously he was searching for validation in his own way- so she gave it to him. “I’m leaving him because someone else is making me happier than I ever thought I could be. So I’m very happy, too.” 

The loaded statement had him staring at her for a few seconds before his mouth fell back on hers, a bruising kiss making her whimper into the air. He was happy with that, more than that, but he had no time to properly respond when there was that dreaded knock on the door. 

Fucking prick, always ruining everything. As evil as it was, he was going to take full pleasure in fucking Y/N in front of him and making him see how he had failed to provide even the simplest pleasures to her. He wasn’t going to mourn their friendship like he thought he would. Not when he got the better option in it. 

“Go lay on the bed, baby.” He gave one last kiss, a small squeeze to her throat before he loosened up. “I’m gonna let him in and remind him of the rules.” 

They had decided that she was going to keep her lingerie on. Harry wasn’t keen on him getting a full show, full access to what now belonged to him- and Y/N not so excited to have him see every part of her at once. He’d be able to see Harry’s cock in her, but her breasts would be hidden away. That was solely for H. 

She did as he asked, getting into the agreed position. Face down, ass up. Hands at her side, face turned away from the chair Danny would sit in. The silk eye mask slipped over her eyes, she did her best to be a good girl and laid on her position as she heard the murmuring. 

The pre established rules had been simple 

No touching 

No talking to Y/N 

Phone off, Harry would place it inside a drawer.  

Leave when he said to leave. 

This was something that she hadn’t expected to happen when the arrangement had first started, but then again- she hadn’t expected to fall in love with Harry either. 

Silly, foolish girl. As if she ever had a chance at resisting.

It was nearly impossible to not fall for him. Between his attentiveness, his thoughtful gestures, his sweet demeanor, his humor, his patience, his ability to take care of her and the way he fucked her?  It was inevitable. There was no way she could have ever resisted that. 

The water bottle he’d gotten her sat on the side table of the bed, filled up with cool water for when she needed it, for fucks sake. Danny had barely ever gotten her gifts, let alone just because he was thinking of her. Not that she needed to be showered in material things, but the fact that Harry had come up with the ideas on his own and thought of her enough to grab something just for her had been enough of an indication that it was something she liked and wanted far more of.

Her decision to break up with him wasn’t one she had come to lightly, but seeing how she was treated by Harry had proven she deserved better. Even if… Harry decided he wasn’t into her anymore down the line, he set the new precedent that she could and should be treated with more respect. She could have the things she wanted and it wasn’t necessarily odd of her to ask for them. The right person would be happy to fulfill those wants, and more.

Her body was cold, but her insides were hot. Hearing the shuffling, the door closing, being unable to see but having the knowledge that he was sitting on that chair about to watch Harry, the man he’d essentially pawned her off to on loan, give her the things he couldn’t dream of doing. There had been mixed feelings at first, unsure if it was the right thing to do, but considering he had asked and consented, Harry had calmed her about it. 

He was kind enough not to mention how wet it had made her when she had spread her legs after that conversation and he got a glimpse of the wet patch on her cotton panties. 

Her mind was going a million miles a minute, not stopping once as the thoughts continued racing around her brain- until she felt his hand on her. Smooth, large fingers running over her back, all the way up until he gently wrapped them up in her hair and pulled her face up, giving her cheeks a squeeze with the opposite hand. “You know your safe words, my sweet. At any time, for any reason, if you want to stop…. What are you gonna say?”

“Red, sir.” She peeped, leaning into his touch. It was her body’s natural inclination now. The moment Harry started talking in that specific tone, that tilt to his voice, her body knew exactly how to react. Melt, give in, please him. It’s all she wanted. 

“That’s my good girl.” Another squeeze to her cheeks had her lips pouting out before he gently laid her head back down on the sheet. “You just keep bein’ good for me and I’ll take care of everything. Just like normal, hm?” He ran his hand back down her body, using one finger over her asscheek. 

“Yes, sir.” She nodded, rubbing her face against the soft fabric. “Take good care of me always.” 

Harry grinned, moving back towards the end of the bed. “Good. Be as loud as you’d like tonight, my pet.” His eyes were soft when he looked down at her, body splayed out on the blankets but not completely bare. There were some things Danny was never going to get to see again- and god, did that make him happy. Moving towards the side, he undid his belt lazily. Letting it draw out not only to build anticipation, but to leave her guessing. 

Danny had never seen anything like this before and in all honesty, they’d agreed to keep it relatively vanilla for that reason… and another. He didn’t deserve to see the flogging, the paddle, the ropes, not at all.. Y/N wouldn’t feel fully safe with him in the room with Danny watching either, so she had eagerly agreed to keep it downplayed, insisting that their sex had been missionary and bland to begin with so even the shit they’d done without the bells and whistles would be enough to shock him. Even though that made him jealous, it only added motivation to prove that Harry could give it to her a hundred times better even without the toys and tools. He could make her cum harder than Danny could have ever dreamt of with just his fingers, just a few flicks of them, because they had a connection that no one had been expecting. 

Perhaps his inkling of a god complex was showing, but he was more than happy to show off just how much better he was. 

“Legs together.” He ordered, watching with a little smile as she immediately placed them together. “Don’t want to deal with you squirming too much today. Know you love to when it gets to feel too good, but I think keeping you restrained would be better.” Diligently, he wrapped the leather through her ankles and began to wrap them up. Firm, he tightened it so she had no chance of wriggling them out, he hummed at his handiwork. 

“Is that safe?” For the first time, Danny spoke. Harry’s head snapped towards him, a reproachful look shot his way. 

“Yes, it’s safe. Everything we do is safe. I’d never put her in danger… Not too much.” His hand ran over her thighs. “Now shut up. You want to watch? Fine. But we’re going to pretend you aren’t there.” His voice was gruff as he placed his attention back to Y/N. There was nothing else said as he used his binding as a grip, pulling her down so her feet nearly touched the ground, her upper body on the plushy bed. 

“Yeah.. This is a nice position, isn’t it?” He murmured, focusing solely on her now. “You look so gorgeous like this, pet.” His fingers gently slipped over her cunt, cupping it lightly as he got that gasp he was looking for. He bit back a groan as he felt how wet she was for him, how she had ruined the pretty lace. Giving it a squeeze, he clicked his tongue down at her. “Exactly what I expected. S’not a day that goes by that this cunt isn’t desperate for my cock, hm?” 

Y/N held back the urge to grind into his hand, her breathing picking up as he began to touch her. She felt hyperaware of everything going on around her- and a little fucking pissed that Danny had opened his mouth. 

How dare he ask as if he actually gave a fuck? He had essentially made her someone else's problem, not at all looked into the sort of shit BDSM could entail. Thankfully Harry was an absolute godsend, but what if he hadn’t been? Would he have just given her up to any other of his friends? Just because someone did kinky shit didn’t mean they were good enough or safe enough to give our girlfriend over to. It was infuriating. 

“Yes, sir. I always want it.” She answered without hesitation. It was the truth. Over her time with Harry, he’d fine tuned her into being addicted to him in every possible way- and now she was pretty sure he felt the same way about her. 

“That’s good. Considering how much you whine for it, I’m not shocked.” Thumbing over her clit, he felt increasingly smug. “You need to get that wet for me anyway. Poor little hole has a bit of trouble fitting me in, doesn’t it?” 

“Mhm. I love it.” She breathed, only to squeal a few seconds later as his hand came down on her ass. The burn sent tingles down her body, cunt throbbing against his hand as she opened up her mouth again. “Sir! I love it, sir. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure y’are, pet. You usually are so good for me, jus’ a little overwhelmed. I know how my girl is.” He crooned, leaning himself forwards and pressing his cock against her ass. “Kept you worked up all day. I know it’s a lot for you, ‘specially when your pretty head gets a bit empty when you’re waiting for my cock…. But you have been so good for me.”

Harry found himself slipping into his own headspace. They’d both agreed to keep it relatively short with the other man in the room and he had been more than happy with that agreement, but he liked that he was getting a look at how she came undone for him. That he got to hear the little gasp she let out as he slipped a finger inside of her cunt, and then two, fucking them into her slippery hole.

“There it is. Barely touched you and you’re dripping like a whore.” His coo was contradictory to his harsh word, tone soft with a slight chuckle at the end because of course she was. Y/N got worked up so easily, the tiniest things making her wet for him and that was one of his favorite things about her. Her eagerness that could borderline desperation. The submissive could try if she wanted, to pretend that she wasn’t a whore for him- but it would be a lie. “Do you like being a slut for me, pet? Barely touched you and you’re dripping down my knuckles.” 

Y/N’s head spun at his word, nodding into the fabric under her face. Maybe she’d be embarrassed if she hadn’t come to terms with the fact that Harry had some sort of magic touch to him, but between the both of them it was no secret. She’d get on her knees or bend herself over the moment he even suggested it because she was greedy and they both knew it. “Uh-huh.” She nodded. “I love being your whore, sir.”

To his credit, his fingers knew exactly where to curl, where to stroke, how hard and fast to move. Harry had been becoming an expert in all things Y/N, but especially when it came to how her body reacted to him. The feeling of her bound ankles keeping her from squirming too much and the practiced ease of his fingers curled right into a spot he knew would make her weak already had her feeling pathetically close. “Sir- I’m gonna cum- can I-“ 

A sharp spank was given to her ass again, his free hand squeezing the stinging flesh as she bit back a moan. “We’ve been over this, pet.”

“S-Sorry, may I? I’m gonna if you keep-“

“Cum.” Harry didn’t make her finish her sentence as he continued his motions, watching his fingers sinking into her and her legs tremble just a bit. He had known exactly how to get her there, betting on it actually, as he felt the fluttering around his digits as she breathed heavier and did her best to writhe despite her constraints. It was one of the most beautiful things, he thinks, watching her lose herself to pleasure that he personally gave her. 

He just didn’t stop there. He could feel her pulsate around his fingers as he fucked them into her harder, placing one hand on her lower back as he continued thrusting them inside her weeping cunt. Overstimulation was a favorite of his, always, but he liked even more so making her cum when he knew it was getting her to relax. To get to that headspace easier. Part of him wished he could see her eyes, watch them get teary for him as she began to babble slightly, but he didn’t want anything taking her out of this moment. 

Out of the corner of his eye he was reminded that they had someone watching but he didn’t pay him any mind, focusing solely on the woman in front of him that took up the majority of his mind even when she wasn’t here. 

“H-ha…” She went to say his name but caught herself, letting out a muffled moan as she buried her face in the comforter of the bed again. The leather of the belt bit into her skin but in the best way, the burn of her legs trying to push apart to both trap his hand and push it away adding to the pleasure swirling in her tummy. It was borderline too much, his palm slapping against her and the constant stimulation to her spot, but she knew that Harry knew best.

“Hm? What was that you’re tryin’ to say, pet?” He hummed, gently letting his nails run over the expanse of the lingerie. It tickled, making her squirm a bit but she had no complaints except a hybrid of a giggled moan. “Are you feeling good?” 

 “S’good, it’s so good.” Her head nodded quickly. “I’m just- you’ll make me cum again, sir. A-and I haven’t even made you cum and I don’t wanna be greedy, I want to make you happy and-“ her words were cut off with his fingers back in her hair, pulling her up a bit so he could make her back arch. 

“I’m doing what I want. This makes me happy. Like seeing you dripping on my fingers, squirming around the bed because you can’t help it. I’ll cum when I feel like it. I want you to do it again on my hand and then we’ll worry about me, yeah?” 

The pinpricks of the grip on her hair had her mouth hanging open, and if the eye mask was uncovered he’d see her eyes rolled back into her head. It was a heavenly combination in her opinion. The only thing that would make it better would be to replace his fingers with his cock but she wasn’t about to make any demands. 

“Now cum for me again. Want that cunt nice and soft for me when I slip into it.”

Y/N knew that Harry had an ungodly level of control over her body just by command alone, but it took the both of them off guard by how quickly her orgasm came. Wet gasps into the air as his honorific left her lips, slick arousal dripping off his knuckles and over his palm as he worked her throat the second orgasm well enough before giving her another surprise.

The dominant didn’t give her a chance to recover as his cock was pushed into her, a garbled moan leaving her throat as she felt it fill her up. Her nails dug into her palms as she felt the grip on her hair tighten, pulling her further up as he dug in deep. It was in her stomach, her toes curling as she panted into the air. “Oh-“ 

Harry repeated it. “Shush.” He muttered, slipping his fingers into her gaping mouth. “Suck these clean. You want me to feel good? Take my cock and shut up, sweetheart.”

“Don’t talk to her like that.” 

Danny. Y/N had forgotten about him until she heard his voice, her body tensing slightly- but Harry didn’t stop. Pushing his fingers back in her throat he made her gag, knowing that she’d need the distraction to keep sucking again. 

“If you can’t keep your mouth shut, you’ll get the fuck out.” Harry’s voice was unlike how it usually was, even being mean to her. It was cold. If it was ever directed at her like that she’d cry- but she couldn’t deny that a part of her liked him being mean to Danny. Especially because it was mostly on her behalf. “She likes this shit. Clearly, you’ve no fucking clue what gets her off… S’why you sent her to me, isn’t it? Couldn’t get her off in the way she wanted so you sent her to someone who could.” He scoffed, pulling his saliva soaked fingers from her mouth. “You like when I tell you you to shut up and take it, mm baby?”

“Uh-huh.” She nodded without a second guess. “I l-love it so much. I love how you fuck me.” The second part wasn’t necessary, but she wanted to say it. As if it wasn’t visible and audible by how wet she was around his dick, how she moaned. Then again, Danny really didn’t have a clue about how to make Y/N feel good anyway. 

“See?” Harry grinned maliciously, finally glancing over to the man. His face was flushed and he looked slightly bothered, but he wasn’t making any effort to move. “I’ve taken the time t’learn what she likes, I’ve listened to what she wants- shown her the shit you’re too scared to even try. So if I want to tell her to shut up n’take it so she soaks my cock a bit more? M’gonna fucking do it.” His thrusts were deeper, making Y/N let out little noises as he got into her tummy. “If you want to keep watching, don’t talk. I won’t warn you again. I’ll simply kick you out and make her finish on my own.” 

Maybe she should feel bad about how aroused this was getting her. The show of dominance and how overwhelmingly clear it was that Harry was in charge, that he’d always been in charge and that he was so blatant about the fact that he was the one making her feel good. It would make her felt guilty later, she’s sure, that her cunt got more slick and she clenched around him as he essentially told him to shut the fuck up and let him get to business or get out, that their pleasure wasn’t indicative on if he was there or not. 

But right now, it had her melting, malleable, easy for him to do as he pleased. 

Subconsciously she could probably surmise that it was because a man was finally showing initiative. He was claiming her, in a way, with little care for anyone but her opinion. He had made sure she was okay with this but leaned into it with the somewhat unspoken knowledge that this was going to further prove that they were the better match. Harry showed that cared about her when he smacked her ass and pulled her hair and called her a filthy bitch when he came inside of her, because he knew that’s exactly what she wanted. 

“More.” Her voice broke through the weighted lack of words, only the sounds of sex. “More, sir- I want more.” 

“Okay, pet.” He grinned- she didn’t have to look at him to hear it in his voice. “Been going too soft on you, I know.” 

The dominant knew what she wanted. So he gave it to her. 

The last threads of caring about the man she called a boyfriend in name only fell away as Harry fucked her. Deep, heavy thrusts as he pulled her up and wrapped his arm around her chest, letting his mouth pant against her ear as his cock filled her over and over again. 

“You like it.” He murmured, just for her. “You like that he knows that he can’t give this t’you. My dirty girl.” He pressed a kiss right under her ear, chuckling as she immediately gave him room. The proof was in how she held him tight, dripping and weeping all over his cock as he manhandled her. She had no control in this, not in appearance anyway, and it’s what she wanted. 

“I want…” her voice was hoarse as she tried to turn her head so Danny couldn’t hear. “Wanna have you cum in me with him watching. It’s your pussy.” The words fell out as her guard lowered, interrupted at the end by his mouth. Part of her wished to be naked right now so she didn’t have the layer between them, but Danny had lost the privilege of seeing her fully nude. That was something she only wanted Harry to see. 

“That last part.” He grunted. “Say it louder.” 

“It’s yours.” Even with a slightly straightened voice, she tried her hardest. His other hand collared her throat, keeping it tightly wound with slight pressure. That promise had been something that set him off, and she liked that bit of power she felt with making him lose it slightly. 

“I can’t quite understand, Pet.” He spoke louder, giving the ability for it to be heard now. “What’s mine? Need you to elaborate on that for me.”

“My cunt.” She gasped, feeling his teeth graze her jaw. “My cunt- it’s yours. You- you fuck me so good and I want it all the t-time. I need it.” 

“Yeah, baby? You need me?” He’d let the softer pet name slip, as well as the fondness he’d been trying to keep from his tone- but if the man sitting in the chair had any sense at all, he’d be able to see that he’d lost the girl. That she was Harry’s, and it was his own fault. 

He’d sent her straight into Harry’s arms. Straight into his bed. He’d stupidly assumed that Y/N didn’t actually know what she wanted, that she’d be scared off- but now, she knew even more so. She begged for it, was greedy for it. She was hiccuping slightly as he slowly pushed her down, pushing her face into the blankets as he adjusted just so- making her let out a soft sob. He’s found the spot he had been avoiding, her legs quivering under them. 

“Yeah, I need it. I need it, I need it so much, I need you-“ she let out a shuddering breath. “Please, Sir. You’re gonna make me cum again and I need to- I need you to cum too. Wanna be good.” It was her favorite line. 

Little did she know, Y/N was always good. Harry had been a little spooked at first at just how good she actually was, how much he had wanted her.  He had been a goner since day one, as soon as he got permission to look at her as more than a friend’s lover and potentially one of his own- he should have known he’d never be able to give her back. 

“You are, pet. You are. Such a good fucking good with a perfect cunt. Dunno how anyone could ever let you out of their sight.” A slight dig at Danny, but he wanted him to watch and understand. “Where do you want me to cum, hm? Your precious cunt’s got me close.” He slipped the hair away from her mouth, adjusting the mask over her eyes. “Want it on your ass? On that cute little tummy?” 

He was taunting her, making her ask for it out loud. 

“No- no, sir. Please, y’know where I want it. Want it inside me.” She was whining, his sweet girl, pushing her ass up the best she could with the position she was in. “Please, please, please, just let me cum n’I can take all of yours, I’ll do a good job. I’ll clean you up, I-“

“Oh, darling. Love when you ramble like that, know there isn’t much going on in your head when you get drunk on cock like this- but I’ll give it to you. You’ve been so good.” The praise seemed to have her melting into the bed. “Go on, baby. Tell me who you belong to when you cum on my cock.”

Harry knew it would be a lot, but he didn’t realize how satisfying it would truly be to hear her whine out loudly, her body trembling under him as she soaked him. Slightly gushing on his cock, his brows furrowed as he watched the mess she made on him. Even he had underestimated how good this would be. “Yours- m’yours, it’s yours, H-sir, I can’t…” her tongue tied, her body writhing slightly under his as her pussy massaged her his cock. 

It wasn’t like he stood a chance. Coughing out a loud groan, he hovered over her, burying his face in her hair as he let his hips stutter and cum shoot into her. It felt like a lot- it probably was, considering how heavy his balls had felt- but he felt a piece of his settle. The scent of her shampoo he’d gotten her, her softness underneath him, the velvety walls of her cunt milking every drop from him, it was almost there. The claiming in front of him has felt like one of the final pieces, a nail in a coffin, lips pressed against her temple as he whispered praises to her. 

The only thing that caught his attention was the sound of ruffling that had his head turning. Danny stood looking a mixture of angry and…

Something else. Unsure what to do. Harry sighed, not wanting to leave the warm confines of her pussy. 

“Your phone is in the drawer in the entrance. You can leave.” He said simply, deciding that was enough. There wasn’t much else that could be said- could there? 

He couldn’t apologize. There was nothing he was sorry for. Being the better man and giving the girl the proper treatment wasn’t something he’d feel bad for. He’d asked to watch himself, and maybe it hadn’t been all the paddles and whips and chains but it had been kinky in terms of someone watching- so he got a hint of it. A real clue about how good Y/N felt with him. 

His whole body relaxed once he heard the drawer open and the door close, finally ridding them of the man neither of them really wanted much to do with in the first place. 

“He’s gone, baby.” Harry spoke softly to her, ever so lightly lifting the mask from her eyes. He could see her wince at the light, though not much of it, the cute little nose wrinkling making his cock twitch inside of her. Even the cute things she did made him feel borderline insane. “There she is.” He cooed, leaning further up to kiss under her eye and over her brow. 

“Hi.” She said quietly, blinking up at him a few times before letting her cheek melt into the bed. They were alone now, truly alone, and she could let her guard down. As much as Harry made her feel as safe as she could in that scene, it was exactly why she had wanted to feel in relatively vanilla. Add in the idea of anything experimental or really kinky and she wouldn’t have had good connotations. 

“How are you feeling?” It felt like a dumb question to ask but he couldn’t help but ask it. It was something he needed to know. 

“I’m okay, weirdly.” She admitted. “I thought I’d feel more emotional. I don’t, though.” There was peace underneath it all. Yes, she’d deliberate later about how she would actually have the conversation with him about breaking up with him- but she wanted to enjoy her weekend with Harry first. “I think… I’ve known it’s been over for a bit and it felt nice to…” it was hard to say it out loud but not because she regretted it, but more so because it was difficult to put into words. “I think that I felt nice knowing he was getting to see that you care about me and you give me something he never has. Part of me felt guilty at first but not so much anymore. I forgot he was here most of the time.” Harry was her focus. 

“Okay.” He nodded, seeing that maybe it was something that she needed to think about some more on her own. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind she was going to go through with it, but he knew it had to be difficult to break up with someone. She was over him and that was clear, but the anxieties that surrounded all of that would rise to the surface soon and he didn’t want to make it worse. “We can talk about it some more later.” The last thing he wanted was to pull out of her but he needed to undo her restraint and make sure she was cleaned up and comfortable. “But for now, why don’t you let me clean you up, hm? I’ll order something for us on the room service menu, you won’t have to think about a thing.”

—-

One of the best parts about being with Harry was letting go. It wasn’t just physically, though that was nice- but emotionally, mentally. She felt the restraints slipping, allowing him to make decisions she usually would make herself. It wasn’t that he thought her as incapable, no. Not at all. But he wanted to make it easier for her. It started with him picking out food for her in the room service menu, and then her sleep set. The next morning, he’d asked her if she wanted him to do the same and she had shyly agreed. 

He picked out her outfit from the bag they’d packed for their little staycation- a lilac dress with a little cardigan to go overtop, her comfy pink cotton panties (which had surprised her considering there were sexier options) and her slightly beat up black converse. It was interesting to see what he had chosen to put on her, but she felt extra giddy as he let his eyes roam over her, humming in approval when she finished getting ready. 

“Love this.” He pinched the cardigan. “I like you in those. You look soft. You are soft- but S’like a reminder.” And fuck if she didn’t fall to her knees right then and there. “Can you put your hair up for me, please? S’a little windy today and I know it bothers you when it gets in your face. Or do you need help with it?” 

Y/N realistically didn’t need any help. Thousands of times she had tossed her hair up, but when it came to the specific ask… she wanted to have him do it. It took a few tries, but he got it eventually, focused on making sure there was no fall out except a few pieces that framed her face. “Beautiful.” 

It had haunted her all day, really. Flirting at the back of her mind, but knowing it wasn’t exactly the time to ask it. Was this something they could do all the time? Was that something that he’d want?

It came naturally to him. That much was very glaringly obvious. Harry was easy to slip into the dominant role both in and out of the bedroom and she wondered if he was fully aware how he was doing it as they walked around. They were only 30 minutes outside their town, but it felt like another universe as he held her hand firmly, making sure he walked on the side of the street near traffic, opened doors, ordered for her during lunch again, picked out some clothes she had trouble deciding on when they went into the shops. It felt right. 

She didn’t want to go home. 

As much as she missed his house and his dog, she wanted to live in this little world. 

“You’re quiet today.” He noticed. Of course he did. Y/N doubted there was much the man missed. When you first met him you wouldn’t expect the sharp eye for detail but she caught on fairly quickly how attentive he was to even the slightest shift in her demeanor or her face- or even her texts. 

“I’m sorry.” She apologized, sitting back on the hotel bed. They’d decided to spend their last night here before returning to Harry’s tomorrow. “I just don’t want this weekend to end.”

Harry’s shoulders dropped in what  seemed to be relief as he took a seat next to her, gingerly pulling her legs on his lap. “I don’t either. But we’ve got next weekend. Or… well.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Depending on when you have your discussion with Danny, I don’t think we’ll need to stick to just a weekend schedule. If that’s something you’d like, of course.”

Seeing him blush wasn’t super common, but it was fucking adorable. She wanted to coo but instead smiled, placing her hand over his as some of the nerves at the idea of him wanting to end all of this because her breakup with Danny would mean the deal was over slipping off her back. “Yeah? You don’t think you’d get sick of me?” 

The man scoffed. If only she knew just how clingy he had started to feel. How he had to talk himself out to texting her far more than he did, how he had tried his best to make sure he didn’t come on too strong when she was still figuring things out with her last relationship- but if she was willing to spend more time with him, he would take up every single crumb, every second, every tiny sliver her could. “I don’t think you really get how…” he sighed, readjusting the words. “I don’t think that you comprehend how much I’d love to have you around more often. I don’t think it’s possible for me to get sick of you.”

That brought a smile to her face. “I don’t know. I do sing a bit obnoxiously. And I keep forgetting to put the cap on the toothpaste…”

“As long as it’s a good song, I don’t mind. As for the toothpaste… we can work on it.” He raised an eyebrow. “I know plenty of ways to get you to remember. Don’t worry about that.”

[loveanddeepthroat]

Unlucky Thirteen

Summary - Sylus liked the quiet girl with the poorly heart. She was the only kid in the laboratory who hadn’t come and gone before he could even remember what she looked like. When he doesn’t see her for a whole day, he knows that there’s only one place she could be—the Medical Bay. He’d been through it all before she’d even arrived at the lab over a year prior, and felt a duty to keep her company whilst her heart healed.

Word Count - 2.4k

Warnings - Child!Sylus and Child!MC as experimental lab rats. Mentions of child experimentation and non-consensual medical treatments. This theory of them being lab rats is not canon, so keep in mind that I have made this all up!

Sylus couldn’t find the girl with the poorly heart.

It was the third and final free hour of the day in the laboratory’s Playroom, and she was nowhere to be seen among the children.

Again.

The girl had been missing a few times before now—usually for further experimentation. But for all three of their free time breaks from observations and alterations meant only one thing.

She had to be in the Medical Bay.

He didn’t know much about the quiet girl, other than the fact that she had problems with her heart. There was always a big, white bandage over her chest that just peaked out over the neckline of her plain white gown, but he would never ask her questions about it. They only got to see each other during mealtime and free time, so discussing the things they were put through in between was something neither of them wanted to commit any time to. She didn’t want to talk about her heart as much as he didn’t want to talk about his eye.

In fact, they didn’t talk much at all. They just had a common denominator that seemed to draw them to each other.

Sylus had watched kids come and go from this place for a few years, hoping that one day it would be his turn to leave. That futile hope had been short lived, and it became clear that he wasn’t going anywhere when all the other kids around him dropped off like flies. 

When she came in with a new group of kids around a year ago, he thought nothing of it. She was just a face he’d forget after she would undoubtedly be released. But as those weeks turned to months—the few children she had arrived with long gone—her face had remained a constant for Sylus.

He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that she’d finally been freed today. The people in the lab coats were far too interested in her as of late, and she was starting to look more withdrawn each time he saw her. Much like he had when he woke from an operation he didn’t know he was having.

The more he thought about her condition, the more he hoped that she was in the Medical Bay—rather than somewhere more sinister.

He’d grown a bit of an attachment to the girl. She was the only friendly face that hadn’t left him. Even in their lack of conversation, he enjoyed her company. Felt comforted by her. They often read in silence side by side, always in whichever back corner of the Playroom was free of other kids. The less significant test subjects always delved straight into the toys and games, but the two of them had no interest in joining in.

Sometimes, if the lab coats had prodded around in his eye too much, the girl would quietly read aloud to him. He liked it when she read to him. So much so that he sometimes played on his eye problems just to hear her read for an hour.

He was used to her being absent for one or two of the three free hours they get, but this was too much for him. 

He had to get into the Medical Bay.

His head had purposely been rested against the electric heater beside the bookshelf for a few minutes as he made himself appear as clammy and feverish as possible. His cheeks burned as he pinched them repeatedly, and he put on his best nasally voice once he approached the Playroom supervisor with a little book tucked under his white t-shirt, rubbing his good eye for added effect.

“I feel sick,” he whined to the stone-faced woman in all-black clothing.

She barely threw down a glance at him, raising a lazy eyebrow. “You were fine during dinner.”

Damn.

Plan B came into quick effect. He rolled his eyes back a little, swaying where he stood. The hot skin of his forehead bumped against her hipbone as he stumbled forward dramatically, and she quickly bent down to his level, steadying him with her firm hands.

“Oh for goodness sake,” she mumbled, her frown deepening when she pressed the backs of her cold fingers against his head. She pulled out a little radio device that was tucked in the chest pocket of her shirt, speaking into it frankly with a push of its button. “Patient S013 is feeling unwell. Feverish. Permission to move from Room 11 to the Medical Bay?”

Sylus held his breath, willing whoever was on the other end of the radio call to grant the cold woman the permission he didn’t know she would need. He’d only ever been to the Medical Bay once before, and hadn’t ever wanted to return. Being examined and tested by strange scientists everyday was bad enough. He had no interest in spending time with the nurses who tended to him after his surprise surgery.

“Permission granted,” a male voice affirmed through the radio.

The stern lady grabbed suddenly at his shoulder, pushing him lightly out of the noisy room and down the silent halls. He liked when they were silent. He’d heard enough screams from children to haunt him for life.

The walk to the Medical Bay was short, and Sylus remembered to throw a few sniffles and pathetic coughs into the silent trek to keep up his charade. He must’ve still looked red faced and sickly, the nurse on duty handing him a gown to change into straight away upon his arrival.

He changed as quickly as he could behind a curtain that gave him only a sliver of privacy, tucking the book he’d smuggled from the Playroom into the inner fabric. The nurse checked his vital signs In the small triage room with nothing but a blank look on her face for comfort. Nobody around here tended to smile or show any true emotion towards the children. 

It didn’t affect Sylus at all. He didn’t know any different. Didn’t remember a time when someone smiled at him. Or when he had smiled at someone else. 

He wasn’t sure if he ever had.

The small, sterile Medical Bay was empty as he followed the nurse inside—save for the tuft of the girl's hair he could see peeking out above her blanket. He almost audibly sighed with relief to see her, but the fact that something was wrong enough for her to even be in the Medical Bay struck alarm bells in his head.

“Patient S113 isn’t feeling good, so try to be quiet,” the nurse told him. She pulled back the covers of the bed next to the girl, hurriedly ushering him to get in before giving him a syringe of medicine to take. “I’ll check on you in a few hours.”

He nodded, waiting for her to turn around before he took a look at the sickly girl a few feet away. The skin on her face was shiny and damp in the stark light of the strip lights above them. She didn’t look well at all, and had the thin, white blanket pulled right the way up to her chin.

The nurse administered a dose of something fluorescent yellow to her in another syringe, pressing her hand to the girl’s damp forehead with a tut. Sylus could’ve sworn that the nurse sighed a little in concern.

“That medicine should make you feel a bit better soon. Try to sleep,” she murmured to the girl quietly, moving the strands of hair that were stuck to her skin before leaving the room. 

He didn’t know what to do once the nurse closed the door behind her. The quiet girl looked so…deathly. Her colouring was a good few shades lighter than it usually was, and there was a greyish tinge to it too. Whatever was going on with her, it didn’t look good.

“What happened?” he blurted quietly.

She slowly turned her head towards him, blinking a few times to focus her eyes. They widened a little when she realised it was him.

“Hi,” she whispered, her voice small and croaky.

The sound hurt something in Sylus’s chest. “What happened?” he repeated again, sitting up a little further in the bed to get a good look at her.

The girl lifted a shaky hand, pointing straight to where her heart was. “I think it’s broken,” she replied.

Sylus frowned a little. He didn’t know that hearts could break. Bones could break, he knew that much. He’d seen broken bones quite often in this place. Her heart wasn’t like most people’s—he knew that too. 

But it couldn’t break. Right?

“Are they going to make it better?”

She blinked at him a few times, and he really studied her. This was the most they’d ever said to each other in conversation, but it didn’t feel strange or wrong like he thought it might. It felt natural. Almost like they were both still here in the wake of so many other young patients’ departures for a specific reason. 

He found himself wanting to know more. He wanted to know everything about her heart—including how to fix it.

Her weary eyes glanced around the room for any listening ears, and she shifted the blanket down from her chin so she could see over it. She eventually whispered back to him, “I’m not sure that they’re even trying to fix it.” She took a shuddering breath in, wincing a little bit. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

That’s when he noticed it.

In the absence of the blanket, he saw the gnarly tail end of a stitched up incision where he would usually see a bit of the bandage she always donned on her chest. He may have been young, but he knew without having to ask what the lab coats had done to her. They’d done the same thing to him once before. Put him to sleep without warning to poke and prod into the innards of his most interesting body part—his right eye. He had no idea why they were so interested in it, or why they were equally as interested in her heart. But whatever the reason, it was mutually exclusive to the two of them.

“They’ve done that to me, too,” he reassured her quietly, trying to shift that anxious look from her tired face. She didn’t know what was going on, so he felt a duty to soothe any worries on her mind. “I woke up in here with a big bandage over my eye before you came to live here. Couldn’t see properly for a few weeks, but it got better. Like your heart will.”

The girl looked apprehensive, but seemed a little bit more settled to know that he’d been in the same situation previously. They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment before she spoke. “You’ve been here for a long time.”

It didn’t sound like a question, but he answered like it was. He didn’t want to stop talking with her, hoping it was bringing her some semblance of peace. “I have,” he confirmed with a nod. “Me and twelve other kids were the first here. That’s why I’m patient S013.”

“Thirteen is supposed to be an unlucky number,” she whispered.

Sylus cocked his head to the side, wondering if she was kidding. He’d never heard of that before, but if she was right, it would make perfect sense. Patients S013 and S113 being the two most focused on subjects in the lab coats’ top secret experiments did seem a bit too coincidental in his mind.

He sure did have a lot of time on his hands to think about things like that, too. She was the one hundredth kid after him to arrive, and ended up stuck here with him for the foreseeable. Maybe whichever newcomer unlucky enough to be patient S213 would end up in their same predicament.

“We’ll find our luck one day,” he finally responded, exuding all of his confidence into that one sentence. He was determined that he’d fight his way out of here one day, and that he’d be able to bring her with him. He wasn’t strong enough—not yet. But whatever they were doing to him here, he’d use it to his own advantage once he got a good understanding of it. “Maybe we’ll both get out of here, and we can see what the world is like.”

The girl smiled. Smiled at him, even in her state. It wouldn’t have been possible to not smile back, no matter how unnatural it felt for the corners of his lips to curl.

“Yeah,” she whispered. Her blinks were slowing down, and she looked sleepy. “That would be nice. I’d like to see the ocean one day, like I’ve read about in books.”

Sylus suddenly remembered the book he’d smuggled in, still resting coldly against his stomach beneath his gown. He quickly reached down into the neckline, grabbing it out and waving it up for her to see it.

“I could read to you, if you want? While you fall asleep.” He wasn’t sure if it would help her in any way, but the familiarity of a book seemed like the best form of comfort he could think of for her.

Her tired eyes lit up a little, and her smile widened. It struck something in Sylus’s heart, and for a moment, he wondered if he had a heart problem. He’d never felt such a feeling, but he liked it. It felt like a real feeling. Not just the horrible physical feelings of aches and pains.

It was a mental feeling. A caring feeling.

He settled himself back against the plump pillow behind him, opening up the book. It was a children’s fable that they’d read many times before, and the one book he enjoyed hearing her read. He checked on her once more, making sure she was still awake and eager to hear him read.

The idea of a book seemed to wake her up a bit from her fatigue, but even so, Sylus would read the book over and over until it lulled her into a peaceful sleep.

He quietly cleared his throat reading the title aloud the way she always does.

“The Kitten Who Met The Crow…”

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little story! I think the lab rats theory is so interesting and couldn’t resist this sweet little idea! I’ve been a bit slow on the content recently and I do apologise, but I’m in the midst of moving into a new apartment and the stress of that on top of the way my neurodivergent son is struggling to cope with it has turned my brain to mush. Things should settle soon and I’ll be back on the requests 🤍

[zoropookie]

SWEET MELODY

☆ chapter twenty — get the fuck out (🎂)

The wind was carrying a chill on his skin like it lived on his being, a cold damp fog.

The sun was sinking beneath the homes, and the evening seemed to hold his break with him. He, Ei, and Yae were standing there in front of the familiar door they've all frequented. One leading the way, calm and resolute, the other begrudgingly trailing behind her while his mind gloomed. The third? Amused, eyes glimmering with merriment at the mother-son relationship.

"I reckon you tell them that you'll leave them alone," Yae suggested. "All of it is quite petty, I'm sure they'll understand why we're here to have you two make amends anyway."

"I have no doubt that's what you think, especially since you both love to be resolute bitches about it—"

"Oh? No, continue, I'd love for you to finish that thought." Ei replied, standing tall and unmoving, face of quiet authority. After a brief interlude of his quietude, she ground her teeth. "Do not cross me, you are already in hot water."

Ei's gaze burned into him in front of that door, she knocked, the sound echoing with enough command. Kuni's throat tightened in disgust, mind racing for an immediate escape, any way out of this predicament, but Ei was always one to play her cards well. He was trapped here whether he liked it or not.

The door opened slowly upon looking through the peep hole, revealing you, who looked at all three of them with weariness. "Hello..." You said awkwardly, but there wasn't much of a smile on your face than usual. Kuni's heart skipped a beat, and there was a heavier feeling to the air that he couldn't shake from you. It was easy talking shit to them on the phone, but when he knew something was wrong here, it was strange.

"We won't take up much of your time, I apologize if we burdened you right now!" Yae chirped. "I'm so glad to see you yet again. You get cuter and cuter each time I see you, (Y/N). Like a little button."

You didn't know how to respond to that, frankly, except with a half-hearted smile. Your eyes moved back to the other two, your heart dropping at the situation. Ei's grip on Kuni's hair was sudden and firm, her thin fingers weaving through his mauve filaments with a controlled ease. She forced his head down, tugging him into a bow.

"No more. No more fighting, no more altercations. Apologize, Kunikuzushi," She said, her tone ironclad. "For all of it."

He bit the inside of his cheek, losing the hope he had for this going how he wanted it. He refused to let his own pride be threatened as it roared in seething rebellion. Up his neck creeped humiliation, but his mother's grip tightened. She refused to let go. His head still bowed, he forced the words out, all of the syllables dripping from his lips were involuntary.

"You've been through a lot because of me. I shouldn't have done what I have, and maybe I should have also realized that when I was doing it. I'm still learning how to regulate, it doesn't come to me naturally." Kuni said, hollow, half-hearted. He couldn't help it. Every tendril of his being wanted to rip away from how pathetic this display looked.

He felt their gazes on him, like a lion in a circus, studying his every move and reaction, waiting for him to crack under his own ego. "Oh, you think that's enough?" Yae said, tilting her head. "You're still acting as if this is a game, but there's no place for them anymore. How unfortunate."

"...We will move on from this. Please consider forgiving me in the future, when your heart allows it." Kuni hissed through clenched teeth, fist trembling at his sides. Fury boiled under his skin, but he kept his eyes locked on the ground like he was commanded, avoiding eye contact, wincing at his mother's nails digging into him. "Let me go. You're fucking hurting me."

"Words. All words, but I haven't heard an actual apology yet." Ei replied calmly.

You didn't know how to react still, all of this rushed in your face like it was a surge of energy. You seemed calm and measured, but looking at how your ex-boyfriend was being handled by his mother yet again, watching him struggle with the prospect of even apologizing to you, knowing that you hardly deserved one yourself...it was hard. Too much to deal with right now.

Your heart tightened, eyebrows furrowing as you avoided eye contact with Kuni as well. "...This seems like a waste of time. Get home safely." You said, the emotional storm raging moments before in your mind was rid of promptly, more stoic and irritable with your speech. You turned around, shutting the door quickly behind you, cutting through that moment with air taut like a wire.

To what you thought was normal, infuriated him. Kuni's teeth grinded together, his eyes darkening in annoyance. The way you said that so casually, like you just washed your hands for ten seconds of the entire ordeal and left it. Like you were already miles away from him, digging under his skin tauntingly. You got the last word in, watching him be humiliated under the guise that you deserved that forgiveness.

He couldn't stand it. Being dragged here, forced to grovel, after he had swallowed his own dignity while it tasted raw and bitter in his throat. Spitting out an apology to you...one you hardly had any business responding to. You dismissed him, as if none of what he did matter. As if he didn't matter. It was gnawing at his core, left sweltering in his mess.

His movements were stiff and jerky as he followed the two women to the car, silently fuming. You were not going to take control of what he thought he was warranted.

It was surreal to think that the remains of your brother were in your hands rather than his own arms encompassing you. In those warm, now unfamiliar feeling hugs he gave you.

The day had been spent finalizing the plans for Kazuha's funeral. The weight of your heartache overwhelmed you a lot, especially when Kuni and his family stopped by. The bakery had closed for the day, and your employees, more like family than staff, had insisted on joining you as moral support. You didn't feel comfortable with their continuous acts of kindness towards you, but you accepted anyway. Who were you to deny any more help, anyway?

It was a private funeral, bringing you strange comfort barely anyone except other family members and distant friends knew about it. Their faces softening the edges of your overall sorrow.

You sat in front of the altar with tired eyes, rubbing them to rid of your tears and to ebb the exhaustion. Your hands shook as they rested on the smooth, cold surface of the urn that held his ashes. It wasn't real to you, the only one after your mother's death who was always able to help you live in quiet grace, had been reduced to this. You lived yet again in your sorrow, except extra this time.

With no energy left to think about anything else, the details crafted with care in Kazuha's funeral spoke wonders. The cherry blossoms arranged, incense burning softly, candles delicately flaring. There was nothing left to distract you from the possibility that he was gone.

The filling air of sandalwood neighboring the air while the incense curled smoke into the room. White lilies around a large photograph of Kazuha that you had to retrieve from your mothers room. No longer dusty, but the sanctity of the promise that you kept to Kazuha disappearing as well. You didn't even want to look at it, feeling the sense of betrayal rotten your heart with guilt. He was in the peak of his youth, eyes bright with the amicable, ethereal tranquility of his beaming face. A smile so gentle and sincere, haunting you forever. You never saw the photo before this, and now that you have, it'll follow you like a ghost.

Your flood gates cracked and spurted out, until your tears began to pour out uncontrollably again. Sobs raw and aching as your entire body wracked, echoing through the mildly quiet room. Your body was heavy to you, every bone in your body converting to stone, with a misery so sagacious that you weren't sure if you were stuck there for the next few minutes or hours.

Weeping like a baby, allowing your tears to drip onto your clothes, the memories you could never share with him again, for the future planned that would never come to pass. He died in the past, the reassurance he left you with when you were just breaking up with your ex-boyfriend and you were shattered once again. But not like this, not like how you wept for the moments you had taken for granted with your family. For the times you assumed you would have more time.

Xingqiu, Chongyun, Bennett, Beidou, and Gaming stayed there beside you, presence warm but quiet as they ruminated in the sorrow themself. One by one, they knelt beside you and bowed their heads in respect to the memory of Kazuha, a quiet prayer escaping their lips every now and then that you could hear.

"It's okay," Beidou softly whispered, rubbing your back. "It's okay to take your time. There's nothing wrong with taking a break, kid. Feel out your emotions."

"To you." You choked out, tone exerting a little snappy.

As Beidou's eyebrows raised, your gaze sharpened as you stared at the photo again. This time, a glint of hopelessness and null in your expression.

"I genuinely hope that none of you ever have to feel what it's like to come home, and be crushed by your own dejection. To feel like there's a giant anchor pressing down on your chest, every single second. Pummeling you from the inside out, stripping you down until you're weaker and weaker." Your voice trembled, leaving the rest of them quiet again. "I don't have the luxury to feel out my emotions, or I crumble again. I'm so tired of crumbling."

The following days, the bakery remained open after the funeral. You didn't give yourself time to exactly take a long break. It should have been expected of you, or forced, but the rest of the employees figured it would a better idea to let you do what you need to do to cope with it.

The bakery was dimly lit, with the television in the corner of the room playing Balladeer and the Cult's new music video for the fourth time today. The entire staff were quiet other than the frequent chatter, and the soft clinking of dishes as the workers cleaned up for the night. It was the kind of silence that would tell tales of wonders involving your situation. You were in the back, wrapping everything up and making sure you wrote what needed to be stocked for the morning.

"I like when they do that fun lyrical thing that starts with 'I had my pants on my head like a hat', and ends with...'the police department's refusal to comply in a timely manner with open records request is a middle finger to the marginalized'. You know what I'm saying?" Gaming rambled.

"No clue." Xingqiu said dully.

"They have to make the feds give up early on the song, so they turn it off before they get to the part that calls it out." Chongyun grinned.

"It's like when you steal sandwich bags from the burger shop across the street, and you think the sandwich bags have shit in it, right? No. The entire layout to a compartment of different type of bombs located in Natlan."

"Why are you stealing sandwich bags from them? I'm telling." Xingqiu's eyes narrowed. "Snitching to the court."

"You do that, and I'm not letting you use my Dreamcast anymore. I'm tired of you ratting me out." Gaming scrunched his face up before walking to the back to clean the kitchen with Beidou.

The atmosphere was considerably lax, but there was always a shade of apprehension all of them shared with your newfound attitude. You forced yourself to focus on closing, the others trying to keep a bright side about them. You could only target yourself to think about Kazuha, the pain of absence. Knowing that when you go home, he'll be there, but not as a physical body.

The sound of the front slamming open jarred everybody who heard it, the small bell above the door rattling aggressively against its frame. Chongyun stiffened at the abrupt sound, it being cut short as they all turned toward the person who walked in. The boy's jaw dropped, blinking twice to make sure if who he's seeing wasn't the guy who was just on TV.

"Uh—" He wanted to keep his wits about him and start spilling fan-made excitement, but he was too floored to even do that. "We're...about to close, sir!"

"Not here for bread, or whatever the fuck you guys have. Fetch (Y/N)."

Xingqiu's eyebrows furrowed. "They're...not here right now. If you want to talk to them, come back tomorrow, we'll be open for a while."

"Oh, are they not? Crazy, considering I see their car behind the lot. I checked, don't think I'm one of your little customers." Kuni cut him off, voice dripping with venom as he sized the workers up. "I'm not in the mood. Either go get them now, or I'll run through all of you."

Chongyun hesitated, awkwardly turning his body towards Xingqiu who shrugged in response. He headed towards the back to relay the information, while you were still working. When he reached you, his voice went quiet while he told you what was going on, almost apologetic. Your blood ran cold.

There was an anger that swelled in your chest, hands squeezing into fists. Without a word, you stormed out quickly, expression set with burning fury. The sight of him again, this time in casual clothing and a neutral demeanor, your vision blurred with rage and small guilt. "Why are you here?!" Your voice shook with rage, your voice could barely raise at him. "Haven't you done enough?"

"Have I done enough? Understand this, you bitch," He immediately started coming closer to you. "You're not off the hook for what you did. You may be used to people forgiving you instantly after batting your eyelashes and giggling like fucking Minnie Mouse, but I'm not the one.

"Okay? Then, what do you want from me?!" You grit your teeth. "You say all this, and then have a hard time not being vague. What is it?! Tell me!"

"Coddled your entire life, skipping out on your responsibilities because things got a little hard," He took a step closer, which lead for you to open the distance again. Except this time, his hand swiped the entire row of glasses that were on display down on the wooden floor with a loud crash. Your eyes widened. "Now you get to stay here, complacent in my misery, just because you think you deserve it? I'll take all this shit away from you."

His anger marinated long enough, it bubbled to the surface like a volcano ready to erupt. His chest was tight looking at you, suffocating in his grip of emotions he buried deep for too long. Enough was enough, he felt sick with the flour and sugar clinging to every surrounding. Everything was quiet to him here, too perfect. And for him, wrong.

A sneer warped his lips, and there were more crashes. The noise cut through the bakery, the workers flinching, but you couldn't even move. Beidou immediately ran to the front, her face twisted into rage. "Get the fuck out, now! You have no business being in here."

She was about to rush over to kick him out, but you shook your head, subduing her form from going closer. "You're not mad because of me, get your facts straight before you start talking to me like that."

His chest heaved at that, and he could only laugh. The sound of his ragged breaths became aggressive, grabbing at dishes and sending them all careening across the floor with a brutal snap of his wrist. "All of this shit," Another one, the sound harsh against the floor. "ALL OF IT, I want all the good things to fucking rot for the part you played in ruining the good things we had."

Your heart pounded in your ears in moderate fear, louder than the crashes and the gasps coming from the rest of your workers. You felt yourself become suffocated, like there was thick smoke restricting you. Everything felt too tight, your skin and the walls of the bakery itself. He kept shattering your things, breaking every single item that came across his path. There were crimson cuts on his hand, the bleeding on his hands and the glass embedded on his skin making you flinch. He welcomed it.

"Deluding yourself with all of this! You're fucking delusional!" He screamed in your face, "Why can't you wake up and take fucking charge of your own destiny, rather than following a dream you made up because you don't want to be reminded that HE'S FUCKING DEAD. WHERE ARE YOU?"

You could only laugh at him, feeling your cheeks burn from how flustered you were. "Get out." Your voice was dangerously low, trembling as you barely controlled your fury. Those words poisoned you, and tears immediately started rolling down your face, lip quivering.

Kuni just stood there, taking in your words as his breath labored, chest heaving up and down, eyes scanning you in disbelief. But you couldn't stand to see him anymore, because you knew what he was saying about you was true. You grabbed your own glass from the counter and hurled it at him, "Get out," smash, "GET out," smash, "GET THE FUCK OUT."

You grabbed another, and another, before entirely ridding of the glass pieces and started throwing chairs at him for him to swiftly dodge. Your hands were shaking uncontrollably, feeling humiliated that you were losing your mind in front of your employees, but you could not do this anymore. "You didn't want to see me anymore, right?! You've got it. Get out! I don't EVER want to see you again."

"So he is dead?" He taunted, voice lower as he started laughing too, his throat hardly making out the sound while it only came out choked as well, too stunned to care. "How's that fantasy working out for you now? At least persistence is a great substitute for actual talent."

Your knuckled connected with his jaw as soon as he leaned in closer, and you fucked him up hard. Sound coming off as a dull thud, followed by a grunt coming from Kuni's throat. You got him in between his lips and the center of his nostrils, causing the crimson blood to sputter immediately once he stepped back. He held onto his nose, instinctively going for his face while his liquid red stained exterior dripped.

The bruise was already beginning to form where your punch had landed. He hadn't expected you to fight back, but something flickered in his eyes. Something that wasn't rage this time, but delightfulness? You stood there, panting, your own hand now pained from how hard the clash was. "Leave," Your voice cracked. "Leave...before I do something worse."

It was obviously a serious reaction, he realized it by the time you were screaming at him. So as the adrenaline dissipated, the power of everything hit him all at once, and he narrowed in on your tear-filled gaze with incredulous relief.

"Welcome back." His pride fought him again to say anything else, so he wiped the blood on his lip, and turned on his heel to leave.

previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next

THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

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[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Couldddd you please write something with hiromi?? I'd appreciate itttt so muchh :)

At Law

Tags: Hiromi Higuruma x fem!Reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, academic rivals, enemies to lovers, hate fucking, unhinged!hiromi, depictions of violence including murder

Synopsis: Being the state’s district attorney was your dream job. After years of law school and hard work, you were finally appointed the job and allowed to represent the state in court. You singlehandedly decided which cases to prosecute and who to bring to justice. When your old academic rival, Hiromi, shows up as a defense attorney in court one evening, you know he’s going to give you a hard trial… and a hard fuck.

An: Anything for you nepobaby :)) Hope you enjoy this. I swear I'm going to make these shorter every time, but then, I start writing and literally can't stop.

You two have been chasing each other for the longest time.

It started in law school. You don't exactly remember how it happened, but slowly over time, you and Hiromi began playing your little academic race.

Both of you were brilliant, quick, and determined. Honestly, you two were like a professor's dream to have.

You found yourself studying longer, committing to all-nighters just to read over several codes of law and past cases in the court. All of it just to score a little bit higher than him on a test.

But dammit, he was faster than you when answering questions the professor proposes. His photographic memory serves him well as he's able to distinctly remember what code a law comes from and where the code is at in the Code of Federal Regulations.

Don't even get me started on how mock trials went. The professor would actually have to stop pairing you two against each other because it would become so toxic and brutal between the two.

As law school progressed, the workload just got worse. The school expected you to complete assignments, study for the bar, and take on unpaid internships. You were a slave for your degree.

Hiromi wasn't immune to those types of pressures either, and as much as he hated to admit it, study partners help retain information better. It would help effectively consume the source material in half the time. Unfortunately, the rest of his peers were just so beneath him...

Well, besides you.

All-nighters weren't lonely anymore. You and Hiromi would drink enough caffeine to kill an elephant and go through weeks worth of content in a night.

"You know... the release of endorphins can help concentration and reduce stress, thus helping students study." Hiromi said one early morning.

It was around four a.m, and you two were covering the petty crimes section. To say it was incredibly boring was an understatement. Students like you and Hiromi would never represent or prosecute clients in petty crimes. You two were destined for so much more.

"What are you suggesting, Hiro?" You ask before a small yawn escapes your mouth. You hadn't even looked up from your book.

"I'm suggesting that we help each other by taking a quick break." He responds as he shoves the book away from your lap. Your surprised eyes look up at his tired ones, and he cups your cheeks before he leans down to kiss you.

You would walk into class sore the next day. As soon as the adrenaline from one round wore off, you two were gunning for the next.

Your study sessions continued on and so did your competitiveness.

When you scored one point higher than him on the bar, he hate fucked you until morning.

Then, he made it his mission to surpass you everywhere else too. Recruiters and attorneys personally from different law firms were ringing Hiromi's phone constantly.

You genuinely believed that he would take the calls on speakerphone just to fucking spite you. You could hear the lawyers on the phone praise him so highly, practically begging for him to come practice at their firm.

Of course, you were getting some recruitment opportunities too, but it was still somehow harder for women to find jobs in the criminal justice field than it was for men. You also hadn't been selling yourself to these firms as much as he was because you had your mind set on working for the state. You wanted to be a prosecutor for the district attorney.

The icing on the cake was when you two were having one of your "study breaks" (aka Hiromi had you bent over your bed, and he was delivering the deepest, most toe curling backshots known to man), and he took a phone call from the district attorney's office.

His hand covered your mouth as he continued to thrust roughly into you while the man on the phone offered Hiromi a job.

"Hm? Oh, thank you for the opportunity." He graciously spoke over the phone as he was absolutely bullying your insides. Your stomach coiled from anger and arousal. You fucking hated him so much. "I'm weighing out all of my options now, but I'll have an answer for you by the end of the week, sir."

After more pleasantries, he hung up the phone and bent over to where he could whisper in your hear. "Hear that, little dove? I'm getting job opportunities from the state while you're under me getting ruined."

"You know, I'll probably be too busy from here on out to play this childish games with you." Thrust. "That'll be too bad, won't it?" Thrust. "Can't say I'll miss you though." Thrust. "Maybe this pretty cunt, but that'll probably be it." Thrust. "Better make this last one count, shouldn't we?" Thrust.

Oh, and he made good on his word. Your entire body ached after he made you finish for the nth time that evening. "I'll see you around, little dove." He whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss to your cheek and leaving your dorm.

He made good on his word about that too. He never returned to your dorm. Sure, you two were graduating in two days, but some small part of you thought he'd might come over for a celebration.

No, he left you behind. He left you behind. You lost.

The anger burned hot for a few months as you gathered barrings after law school, especially when you'd see his name in the papers.

Defense Attorney Higuruma gets a non-guilty verdict for alleged drug trafficker!

Higuruma sways jury in closing argument, providing the most gut-wrenching speech!

Higuruma, Higuruma, Higuruma.

He was a fucking sensation in the criminal justice field, and his name left a sour taste in your mouth.

The anger only started to subside once you landed your dream job after a long internship. You were finally a prosecutor in a major circuit court in the crimes division.

Hiromi's name finally fled from your brain as you started to flood the newspapers.

Prosecutor helps put away notorious serial killer for life.

Cartel drug lord behind bars after district attorney helps deliver a guilty verdict for over 32 charges.

You finally felt like you hadn't been left behind. You were living the life you wanted to live ever since you were little. Did you imagine you'd be married by now? Yeah, sure. You just... hadn't met the right one yet.

Dating was hard while maintaining a professional career. You had to be extremely choosey for one. It would be scandalous to see a prosecutor dating someone with a criminal record.

And the men were sweet, don't get me wrong. They'd take you on nice dates, write you pitiful love letters, and treat you like a princess... They were all so collectively boring, especially in bed.

You'd tell them! You'd give them incredibly detailed instruction to be rough and mean to you, but they'd always laugh and make some excuse for not wanting to hurt you. Ugh.

Maybe you were ruined by Hiromi... because the only thing that got you off nowadays was the thought of him whispering hateful words into your ear while pounding himself into you with little concern or remorse.

Slowly, the gifts would start appearing.

A bouquet of white roses sitting on your desk. Do you miss me, LD?

You thought it was a simple mistake or a sick prank from one of the criminals you help lock away. You would quietly dispose of the gifts until the slowly became more alarming.

Miss your sweet sounds, LD. An audio recording of you moaning on a tape recorder played.

Who are you trying to look nice for, LD? None of those men could treat you like I did. Pictures of you going out on a date.

I'll take care of them for you. Don't worry your pretty little head, LD. A dead dove.

This was enough to get a harassment and stalking charge, but you didn't want to concern the local police. For one, you knew how lousy the police were when it came to crimes like this from working alongside them. They were honestly an embarrassment. For two, you didn't want this getting out to the public because then copy cats would start up.

You tried investigating on your own, but you came up to a dead end every time. The way this person called you LD made your head spin. That's not even your initials, but the gifts were certainly intended for you.

The only refuge for you was when you were in a court room. You felt safe and protected. A stalker of this degree wouldn't be ballsy enough to confront you in a courtroom while you're surrounded by police and bailiffs constantly.

Your refuge was short-lived by catching a glimpse of a familiar face in court one evening.

He looked as handsome as he did in law school. Hiromi's tired eyes met yours, and he almost immediately cracked a smile as he approached you during recess.

"Well look at you, dove." He smiled as he looked down at you. Hiromi's dark hair laid messily on the top of his head, and he was wearing a full business suit that framed his body nicely. "I see the district attorney's office settled for the second best option after I turned them down. Good for them."

He was still as arrogant and competitive as ever, making your heart flutter like it did back in law school. "Very funny, Hiro." You roll your eyes as you stand to look up at him.

"It's all harmless jokes. I promise. I'm proud of you, really." He assures as his eyes wander your body for just a moment.

You're not use to his praise. Normally, you're not the type to enjoy it, but hearing those words made you clench around nothing as your stomach swirled with butterflies.

"Thanks... I've heard good things about you as well.." You murmur quietly, suddenly losing all your nerve. "So, are you representing someone?"

"I am. I didn't just come here to watch you for fun. Though, I would've had I known you were such a big shot." He nudges your arm gently, causing you to laugh softly. "I'm representing a young man charged with murder. I'm sure you heard about it. Big news all over the television."

"Who was the victim?" You ask as you flip through your case files. If this was a first setting, surely you wouldn't go to trial today, but the thought of going to trial against Hiromi made your heart pound with excitement. Not many lawyers gave you too much trouble during court, but Hiromi... he would be a good match.

"They can't identify the victim. Male, John Doe, early twenties. That's all the information the cops have." He explains, and you start skimming through the case file quickly. It's astonishing that the police made an arrest when there was hardly a body to work from.

"Huh." You muse quietly as you look through the crime scene photos and pictures of the defendant's hands covered in soot from a fire. The victim had been burned.

"I'll be making a motion to dismiss this case based on a lack of substantial evidence linking my defendant to the body. Just a heads up." He then winks at you and walks away from your bar as the judge comes back and sits on the bench.

It seems as though you and Hiromi will have one last back and forth like old times.

When his case gets called before the judge, Hiromi takes the pleasure in speaking first. His client is handcuffed, sitting down next to him. The defendant was young, maybe nineteen. The evidence supporting his conviction was weak, but it was still there. Convincing a jury to convict him will be tough, and that's if the judge doesn't dismiss the charges outright.

After a long, drawn out argument between you and Hiromi about the proponderance of evidence, the judge decides to not dismiss the case.

"In that case, your honor, we would like to request a hearing today." Hiromi speaks with such confidence as he stands before the judge.

"Your honor, the state hasn't had adequate time to prepare for a hearing, and this is first setting. We'd like to request a reset date to prepare our defense." You immediately follow up as you also stand up.

"Your honor, my client has been incarcerated for over twenty-five days for a charge that has flimsy evidence at best. He has a right to a speedy trial." Hiromi rebuttals.

"Enough. We'll have a trial today whether the state is ready to proceed or not." The judge decides. Wonderful.

The trial is as painful as you imagined it to be. The evidence is flimsy, and Hiromi is practically bullying the witnesses on the stand, and when it's your turn for redirect, he practically bullies you with objection after objection.

"And what did the police-"

"Objection hearsay." Hiromi stands from his chair and eyes you with that cold stare of his.

"Your honor, I haven't even finished my question without the defense counsel butting in." You argue to the judge.

"Overruled. Counsel, let her finish." The judge warns.

Your head is practically throbbing by the end of it. The jury deliberates for two hours before coming back with the sentence. You tried your hardest and made good work with what evidence you had.

"On the charge of first-degree murder, we the jury find the defendant... not guilty."

Dammit. Hiromi won once again.

"On the charge of abuse of a corpse, we the jury find the defendant... guilty. On the charge of tampering with physical evidence, we the jury find the defendant... guilty. On the charge of arson, we the jury find the defendant... guilty."

He didn't win.

"On these charges, I will impose a sentence of twenty-five years in the Fuchu Prison with the possibility of parole after ten years." The judge sentences before whacking his gavel down.

You let out an exhausting sigh as you slowly gather your things after court adjourns. Today was likely the hardest day in your career, and you can't help but think about that young nineteen-year-old who won't see freedom until he's twenty-nine.

Hiromi approaches you after the courtroom is completely empty.

"You seem tired, dove." He muses as he loosens his tie from around his neck. He'd never admit it, but you absolutely gave him a run for his money.

"It's not everyday someone gives me that much trouble in court." You softly laugh as you look up at him. You feel your cheeks warm as you realize how close he is to you.

"Yeah? Did it bring back old memories?" He steps closer as his hand slowly reaches up to cup your cheek.

"Hm? Of me winning our mock trials?" You ask with a cheeky grin, and his grip tightens a bit.

"I distinctly remember our record being 15-13 with me having 15 wins." He replies as he leans down to you. He remembers the score you two kept from back in law school?

"You must be still sore about me outscoring you on the bar if you kept up with our scores from mock trials."

"Mmm, quite the contrary actually, you've always been my favorite opponent, even if you piss me off." He replies as he leans down towards you and presses his lips against yours.

The kiss was full of everything you could ever imagine: heat, lust, a hint of resentment towards each other. Before you know it, you're pressed against the table as Hiromi's hands roam your body like he's in a frenzy.

"Hiro.." You moan as he kisses down your neck roughly biting on your flesh. "My office.." You whine, trying to get him to ease up on you just long enough so you two could get out of the courtroom.

"And if I say no, little dove?" He whispers in your ear as his hand slips underneath your dress with such ease. "You'd let me take you right here, wouldn't you?"

"Hiro~" You whine in a breathy tone as his fingers trace around your clit like they did so long ago.

"That's not an answer, little dove." He demands as he applies more pressure. "I asked if you'd let me fuck you on this bar until you forgot your own name."

"Yes-!" You gasp as his fingers skillfully play with your most sensitive area.

"That's what i figured. You were always such a slut back then too. Somethings never change, hm?" He muses as he goes back to sucking and kissing on your neck. His fingers tease near your entrance, but they slowly trail back up to your clit.

"You're lucky I respect you enough." He growls lowly before he removes his hand. "Lead the way to your office."

As soon as you two are behind closed doors in your modest office, clothes are being thrown onto the floor, moans and small whispers of sweet nothings were exchanged. You could quite literally feel your heartbeat fluttering deep inside your cunt.

He gently nudges you to lay down on the leather couch you had in your office for the late nights you spent reviewing evidence. Your skin connects with the soft leather as he gets between your legs. "I wonder if you still taste the same, little dove."

His tongue gently laps at you, and he immediately hums with satisfaction. "Somehow sweeter, actually." He answers his own question as flattens his tongue and licks you from entrance to clit, savoring your fluids of arousal on his tongue.

Your hands find his hair, and you gently tug on it as he helps himself to your wetness. He takes his time, lapping at you slowly while gently suckling on the small bundle of nerves. Sometimes you swear he's spelling his name into your cunt with his tongue before he shoves his tongue directly inside you, drinking your nectar straight from the source.

"H-hiro~!" You whimper as you try to shuffle your hips away. The stimulation was too much to handle.

"Don't try to run from me, little dove." He grunts as he wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you right back down onto his mouth.

His nose bumps into your clit as you subconsciously ride his face, searching for release. "Yeeahh, there we gooo. There's my little dove.. bein' such a slut." He coos as he buries his face deeper into your core.

His entire face is damp from your delicious juices. He's such a messy eater, getting it all over his chin and nose. His tired eyes flutter up to look at you as you're on the crux of your orgasm.

"Cum on my face, little dove. Let me have you." He instructs before lapping at your cunt like a starved man.

Your voice goes high pitched and breathy as you grab onto his hair tightly, forcing him in even more before you finish all over his mouth. He gratefully continues to run his tongue along your folds until your legs are trembling on his shoulders.

You softly pant as you relax into the couch. You hadn't had an orgasm like that in so long. You had almost forgotten how they feel.

Hiromi looks up at you with a confident smirk and an intoxicated gaze. "Seems like you missed me, little dove."

"Please, I only missed when you're too preoccupied to run your mouth." You retort with a grin.

"Is that so?" He questions as he pulls down his boxers, and his length springs up from the constraints of the fabric. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you're reminded of how big he is.

As if on muscle memory, you turn to get in doggy position because that was his and your position of choice back in college, but he grabs your thighs and prevents you from moving.

"Nuh uh. You're gonna look at me when I take you this time." He grins as he positions himself between your thighs. He fists his length a few times before slowly dragging his fat tip up and down your sopping wet folds, savoring the feeling with a small groan. "I wanna see the tears in your pretty eyes, little dove."

You're about to argue and protest about the tears part, but he's quick to shut you up by forcing his length into you all at once. Hiromi's not only long, but he's very girthy, stretching you so deliciously. White hot pain courses through you as your nails dig into the couch.

"Ah-! F-fuck!" You curse as you try to get use to his size.

"Mmm~ you're tight, dove. How long has it been for you, hm? Surely you've fucked someone since college, unless you've been hopelessly waiting for me." He grins as his hips are slow. He allows you the space to almost get use to him before he shoves into you aggressively, making you see stars.

"Ngh... p-probably like.. uh.. oh god, six months?" You answer as you stutter over your words. Your last hookup had ghosted you after you slept with him. Though, it didn't really bother you. He wasn't good in bed at all, and he called you crazy for asking him to be mean to you during the deed.

Hiromi simply smirks down at you, proud of himself for how fast he can make you a mess underneath him.

"Oh, you poor thing... hah.. No one can take care of this pussy like I can, hm?" He taunts as his hands grab ahold of your hips. His eyes are fixated on where you two are connects. He loves watching his length sink inside you.

Your warm wet entrance only serves to suck him in further, causing him to groan and continue his deep, ruthless pacing.

"N-no..." You're not even able to deny it to him and play hard to get. No one comes close to making you feel as good as he does.

His hips snap forward harshly, fucking you deeper into the black leather of the couch beneath you. Your entire body jolts with each rough thrust.

"Only I'm good for you, isn't that right little dove? You're mine, aren't you?" He asks as his hand reaches up and wraps around your throat, gently applying pressure. His eyes are now staring deeply into yours, waiting for an answer.

"Fuck, Hiro.." You whine, unable to commit to saying you're his. He applies a bit more pressure with his thumb and fingertips.

"I asked you a question." He grits as he slams back into you at a dizzying rate. "Are you mine?"

"Oh~ fuck.. I-" You can barely get a word out as he's ruthlessly abusing your little cunt. This was the roughness you had begged all those other guys for. "Yes-! God, fuck, yes." You cry as you feel your stomach clenching with the burning passion of another orgasm.

"I'm gonna let you in on a little secret because you're mine now, dove." He mumbles lowly as he leans closer towards you. His hips keep up with his rhythm as his face is close to your ear. "That guy you sent to prison today was innocent of all counts."

Your hands reach up and hold onto his back muscles as he's rutting deep inside of you, reaching new places with his new position.

"What-? Hiro... I don't.."

"You sent an innocent man to prison, little dove. Doesn't that bother you? You're sick just like me." He continues on, making you feel all confused.

"How... ah~ how do you know he's innocent?" You ask as your eyebrows furrow. Your hands search his back, and your legs wrap around him as if you're hugging him.

"Because I did it." He growls into your ear. "That pathetic excuse for a man wasn't good enough for you, LD."

Chills immediately shoot through your body from him calling you by those damn initials. LD. You cling to him for a moment, unsure of what to even feel or say. His hips continue to rut inside of you.

"What's the matter, little dove?"

LD. Little dove. You squeeze your eyes shut as you finally piece everything together. Your last hookup didn't disappear. Your stalker, Hiromi, took care of him just like he promised he would.

For some sick reason, your stomach continues to clench as he's rocking back and forth. Your eyes meet his.

"Hiro... that's so.." You can't get the words out before you're finishing all over his cock with a high-pitched squeal.

Hiromi grins wildly as he watches you come undone from your orgasm. "My little dove is just as sick as I am, isn't she?" He coos before he leans back up.

His hips starts to drill into you mercilessly, not giving you a chance to catch your breath or even think. "Oh, fuck!" He curses as he's chasing his high deep inside you. “Mmnph~ gonna cum inside you and really make you mine.” He coos as his hips start moving sloppily.

You know it’s so wrong and taboo, but you couldn’t help but feel your arousal start building again. He just confessed to you about a serious crime, yet your pussy was still soaked, making the most delicious plap! plap! plap! noises as he pounded into you.

“Fuuuuck~” He groans as you feel his thick length twitching inside of you as he spills deep into your womb.

For a moment, you’re completely speechless. Hiromi softly pants as he presses small kisses into your collarbones. “‘m sorry. I had to do it, dove. I couldn’t let him get close to you.” He murmurs quietly. “Only I get to hear your sweet sounds. No one knows you better than me.”

Taking a deep breath, you realize that if this ever gets brought to light, you and Hiromi are going down for life. You gently nuzzle your face into his neck. “Hiro, you’re insane.”

“I know that, I do.” His voice is so sweet, cooing to you. “But we can get away with it, even if we’re miraculously caught.” He presses a sweet kiss to your temple.

Well, a year later, and the two renowned lawyers are married. At least you didn’t marry someone with a criminal record ;)

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.75)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Getting you home and into the nest before your heat hits proves to be a bit more of a challenge than Namjoon anticipated.

Tags: forced caretaking, slight loss of autonomy, feral omega's, m/c acts a little violent at the beginning, biting, blood, brief blood play, kinda inspection kink if you squint, body worship, preheat, non- sexual nudity, cramps, scenting, nesting, mindless fluff, hurt/comfort, omega/omega content, possessive behavior, omegaspace, yoongi has slight self-esteem issues, discussed past abuse but everything is better, manhandling,

W/c: 13.7k

A/n: I feel guilty because i had to snip this chapter in half because there was simply too much stuff going on in my life at the moment and i didn't want to go more than a month between updates. on the bright side i will try to get the second part out quicker, and i will also be very drunk at a engagement party when this is posted <3 gotta love that for me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Yoongi stands on the porch, watching the street.

The warm air tickles the hair on his forehead, bringing with it the familiar smell of ocean brine and a faint daffodil from across the street. The streetlight isn’t bright enough to cast them into anything like color, but the smell remains- still it’s not the scent that he’s looking for. The scent that Yoongi’s body hungers for.

That’s why he looks into the street, looks to the end of it where the tallest streetlights glimmer lighting up the concrete and the stop sign.

Looking for you and coming up empty handed.

His heart beats hard at the passing headlights of every car. Every thrum of wheels against the ground makes his body perk up. And every car that passes without turning in makes his hopes come crashing down. Like a seesaw, up and down. Like the ocean's rising tides reaching for the shore and finding it always a little out of reach.

Logically, Yoongi knows they have at least another hour, but it's hard to tell his instinct that- to detangle the fear in his chest and make something useful of it.

2 hours ago. That’s when he called you. Panicked and nervous about ruining your vacation- only to greet similar panic down the line.

Yoongi had been right earlier. Yoongi doesn't know if he feels vindicated or sick with worry. Self-assured or absolutely terrified. He’d been right, but he hadn’t believed in himself. He'd known and yet he hadn’t done anything about it, hadn't put his foot down or kept you home and kept you safe. you are halfway across the state where he cannot help, cannot touch you, cannot ease this pain.

All because he didn't speak up. All because he was trying to be a good mate and was trying to let you make decisions for yourself. something in him, deep and dark and hungry, says 'See, this is why she needs you, see? This is why you should be more firm. The others are allowed why not you?

Yoongi quiets the voice but does not stop feeding it. You'd sounded so small over the line, your voice so quiet and so tired.

Jin’s loud shouts punctuate the night-time quiet. The interior of the house is similarly a place of worry strife and instinct as night falls. Yoongi can just barely make out Jin's words as he barks orders at Jimin and Tae to move it this way no move it that way. A distant laugh is a balm to Yoongi’s nerves. Drawing a smile to his lips even now. Even bratty, even in pre-heat the pack still clamber to do everything their pack omega asks.

Yoongi isn't just worried about you, he's worried about Jin too. Any other time he would be inside and helping Jin make the heat nest. holding him and easing away his instincts, making him calm in the way that the others- not even Jungkook- can.

But this heat is not going to be like the others.

The pack has never handled two heats at once before. Two ruts? Sure. That happens more often. Jimin and Tae go in spits and spurts, in sync one rut and then out of sync the next. But Yoongi has a feeling that everything is about to change. It's not abnormal for an alpha to skip a rut or an omega to skip a heat with the addition of a new packmate. But this? Two omegas in heat all at once?

Yoongi feels more than a trickle of fear.

Nesting instincts are an endless chaffing in pre-heat. The last time Yoongi dared venture inside the house Jungkook was dragging the bulk of the pack's nesting material into the basement to wash it preemptively. By now they're probably already drying. Probably being dumped warm on top of the broody pack omega inside, enough to placate him temporarily.

"What did you do with my pup! Nest theif! I want my pup"

Jinnie sounds close to tears, Jimin's low voices must not be soothing because Yoongi hears a hiss and a the telltale thump of a pillow thrown against a door. Yoongi winces.

He hopes Jin doesn't hit a window. He's got frightfully good aim, so there's a good chance he won't actually try to destroy the house.

If they’re lucky they’ll have another day before the heat is in full swing. If they're not lucky it will hit by tomorrow morning. Regardless of when it actually hits. The pack has another hour before they have two cranky omegas in pre-heat, and that's more than they could hope for.

Yoongi should be doing prep work. He should be cutting up fruit or putting in another food order for tomorrow morning (that was the first thing he did after getting off the phone with you). It's too late to sneak away to the store; Jin's instincts might take it as a threat and make his heat come quicker to keep Yoongi close by. Yoongi should make sure that the pack has enough protein bars and easy-to-eat things for you and Jin.

Your body not being strong enough was the whole reason why you never went into heat in the first place- making sure this doesn't strain you too much should be his primary concern.

And yet, all Yoongi can do is look out at the driveway and wait for you to come home. Watching the darkness for headlights like people check the night sky for shooting stars and eventual wishes. There are things to do and meals to cook, nesting material to gather and wash. But Yoongi is still as a statue, standing watch and keeping guard. Shaking just a little- although he's not sure if it's nerves or just the cold.

(Frozen in fear, absolutely scared shitless, body a mess of misfiring anxiety and worry. Breathes coming quick. Goosebumps. The idea of every little bad thing that's ever happened to you that could continue to happen. Hurtling down his train of thought like a runaway car. Endlessly hurtling in a single direction towards a singular direction.)

Thank God it’s just you and Jin. If Jungkook went into heat too- who knows what the pack would do.

Yoongi’s fingers continue their drumming on the banister, Yoongi watches the moths flutter around the streetlight in the center of the cul-de-sac.

The door behind him opens letting the sounds from inside spill out onto the porch. And Hobi who has narrowly escaped Jin’s wrath with a fresh-looking pink hickey on his throat.

Yoongi wouldn’t be surprised if everyone inside wore his mark, it’s likely they’ll wear it before the night is through. Jin’s snappish reply of. “No- not there Kookie- here- like this-”

Yoongi winces. And tells himself that whatever scratches are left on the floor from them rearranging furniture will be worth the effort it eventually takes to buff them out.

Jin is a bratty commander when it comes to making a heat nest, they’ve been working on it for the better part of the last few hours. Making it perfect- making it for you. Everyone knows that Jin won't stop until you're home. You're to be the finishing touch, the last and most important addition.

Hobi stands in the doorway for a second calling yoongi's name softly. The sound is honey-soft in the nighttime quiet. Yoongi's teeth worry away at his lower lip.

Yoongi doesn’t turn, Yoongi can’t turn away from the street, even as Hobi comes up behind him and sets a warm palm on his shoulder.

“If you won’t come inside, will you at least put on a jacket?”

Yoongi doesn’t want to, if only to punish himself with the chill in the air. You must be cold too- an omega in heat outside of a nest and without enough packmates to help you regulate your body temperature seems so neglectful.

He doesn’t respond, but a few seconds later a thick blanket that smells of Jin hyung (overly sweet, overly syrupy even to Yoongi’s dull nose) is placed around his shoulders. When he turns away from the street for a second, Hobi grins a little nervously.

“It was the only way I could get him to agree to let you stay outside.”

Yoongi bites his lip and doesn’t speak- feeling like if he does something embarrassing or scary will happen (or both). Hobi nuzzles into the side of Yoongi’s face, ignoring the way that Yoongi subtly shifts away. All too aware of Yoongi's predicament. Does Hobi know how unworthy he feels of the touch? That he feels he doesn't deserve the comfort?

Stepping up close behind until he can feel the alpha’s heat behind his back. Hooking his chin over his shoulder and nosing into his throat. Yoongi knows his scent smells sour and salty, knows it but Hobi doesn't recoil.

(The monstrous thing in Yoongi's chest that wants and wants and wants does not get room to move around, mostly because Yoongi does not feed it. He keeps his ego and his arrogance on a tight leash, a leash that your love holds the other end of. A many-headed dog like Cerberus guarding the underworld. Yoongi's desires and you. Two similarly sinful pursuits on either side of the scale judging Yoongi neither monster nor man).

Yoongi doesn't know what's wrong. Is this what the heat feels like? Coming down the mating mark?

“Are you okay?” Hobi asks, even though he must already know and can certainly scent it on him. Yoongi doesn’t look at Hobi, worried he’ll break if he does. “You can tell me you know? It's okay I'm-" I’m her person too, I’m worried too.

Yoongi could let it go. Yoongi could say nothing and he knows that Hobi would let him- but- but-  

The words come out all at once, scared and quick. Yoongi is so scared and he doesn’t know what to do. Yoongi is a mess of emotions, some overlapping and some contradictory. He's feeling so many things at once and all he can do is stand here and watch the fucking street.

“I don’t know how to do any of this.”

Yoongi turns back to look at Hobi anxiously. “Jin and Jungkook- that’s different. That you know I’ve done before but-” Yoongi hesitates. “I’ve never helped her through a heat before and Jin is so particular. What if she- what if I'm not-"

Yoongi takes a shaky breath. What if she needs more than I can give her, what if she doesn’t want me to touch her. What if we’re not back there yet. I've treated her so poorly the last few weeks. I'd understand. I'll have to understand if she says she doesn't want me.

Yoongi's instincts rage, Pacing the inside of his mind like a trapped zoo animal. A monster that's never allowed out, aching to stretch its claws.

Ruts and heats have a way of bringing out your hidden wants and desires. The things you’ve been holding back, and what you haven’t said.

There are other reasons why omegas usually mate alphas. The fact of the matter is that Yoongi might not be able to sate you in the way that matters.

It's simple biology; Yoongi does not have a knot.

Jin and Jungkook don't calm until they get one and neither does their heat fever. A heat fever is something that can actually be dangerous for Jungkook and his seizures. He doesn't usually have them during his heat, but the few times he has have not ideal.

Yoongi's usual job during heats is not the same as Hobi, Jimin, or Namjoon and Tae. Yoongi's there to settle, to ease. Usually, he's the only scent that the omega can tolerate during pre-heat. The only scent that doesn't bring about headaches and nausea.

But he can't even do that right, smelling sour as he does and miserable with you so far away. Yoongi has never wished he was born an alpha, never, but it’s hard not to wish it just a little right now.

As if on cue, deep in the house Jin snaps at Jimin harshly. “Not there, please don’t put it like that Minnie- Minnie- stop.”

And then the next minute Jin goes back on it as if recognizing his harsh tone. turns from angry to teary and overwhelmed in an instant. “I’m sorry Minnie I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“It’s okay hyung. Just tell me where it needs to be.”

Understanding and allowances are offered to omegas in pre-heat. Jin's instincts are probably making him feel ten times as worse than anything said in the pre-heat of the moment could. The pack won't take anything said personally.

But you might if Jin snaps at you. Yoongi knows it might actually hurt you. You're sensitive like that. Delicate. Too delicate to be going through your pre-heat in a fucking moving car. Yoongi's stomach lurches at the horror of it.

“I’ve kept my distance but now-”

“And now you feel like that might bite you in the ass because you’re not where you should be to help her with her heat.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi’s eyes are glassy in the light of the streetlight.

“I’ve never helped her with this before. I don’t know what she likes or what she doesn’t, I don’t know where the boundaries are and I’m really-” he takes a steadying breath, “really used to that.” This is one of the few things that you and Yoongi have yet to go through. That he has yet to understand about you.

Hobi swallows, “This is new for all of us then.”

Yoongi glances at Hobi's face, letting out another breath; less shaky. Hobi looks out at the street. He doesn't look worried; he doesn't even look nervous. Hobi has every reason to be a little bit tentative around omegas and their heats and he can count the number of times you've had sex on both hands. But if he's afraid or unsure, he doesn't show any of it.

“It’s okay not to have all the answers. It’s okay to be scared and worried. If you wanted to not help-" Hobi sighs, "I don’t know."

Yoongi shakes his head firmly the second Hobi voices it. “No, I want to. I’d never ever do that to her. Never. It's just scary.”  I’m just scared. Yoongi’s arms are wrapped around his body, but his hand hovers over his hip, and Hobi notices for the first time how he’s cradling it.

“The mating mark- it’s so tender. It actually hurts right now. I think it’s telling me I need to be close to her.”

With alpha's and omega's who are mated, a mark often means that one heat triggers a rut and vice versa- or at least false heat and false rut. Hobi is unsurprised that Yoongi is feeling at least something.

“I’m sure she wants to be close to you too hyung.” Yoongi’s eyes go darker and it’s like he’s not sure if he really believes him. He doesn’t want to call Hobi out on placating him. So instead- hoseok changes the subject.

“What does the mating mark feel like?” Hobi has never asked. Yoongi goes quiet, palm lays flat over Hobi’s chest not exactly over his heart but close to the bone. Where Hobi’s ribs and all of him connect covered by a thin layer of muscle and skin.

For a second Hobi would swear he feels some horrible terrible ache.

“It feels like there’s an emptiness here, an emptiness so hollow that it hurts. It’s like a scab you want to pick or an itch. Not a wound but something different. It's like needing to breathe and holding your breath. Like being hungry only you can’t eat. Like wanting to sleep but you can't dream. It's like that, all at once and all the time.” Hobi’s breath hitches, bones and body expanding against Yoongi’s touch. “And it only goes away when she’s next to me.”

Hobi’s eyelashes flutter, “Namjoon and Jin, and Tae and Jimin- when they-”

“Oh, they’re gonna be fucking ridiculous, absolutely impossible. Jin isn’t gonna let Joonie out of his sight. I think Jimin will go legitimately crazy too- if he's not already. It was a lot worse at the beginning. Even her sneezing felt scary, like leaving the room for a tissue was gonna take all of me with her."

Yoongi and you don't talk about your beginning often- those few months that you both lived in this house and adjusted to each other without the pack. Hobi’s hand settles on the back of Yoongi’s neck, and it's like he can touch those moments like this, run his fingers along the strings of fate that have bound you and Yoongi so close it's hard to detangle either of you. He can feel your name in every pulse of Yoongi's heart, the rhythm and the melody to his being.

Maybe it's a good thing this wasn't me, maybe it's a good thing that I never had this choice Hobi thinks. Although there is still time- Jungkook doesn't want to mate- and the pack already has it's decided pairs. Hobi might not want it to be anyone but you.

Who knows who he might have become. What he might have done as your mate. Yoongi has never second guessed himself for Jin or Jungkook's heats before.

Yoongi does not growl and snap his teeth at the shadows. Yoongi doesn't even pace, he just stands and waits.

Hobi pulls him to rest back against his chest and Yoongi goes quiet. And when he looks up, he looks so scared, so young and Hobi knows he’s just terrified. Hobi presses his face into the side of Yoongi’s neck, nuzzling against his scent gland in little circles. Rubbing cheek to cheek to soothe his anxious scent, not all the way but just a little.

Hobi might be making things up, but for a second- it almost smells like Yoongi’s a little sweeter- smelling a little muskier, whatever part of his body that is bonded to yours already adjusting for the necessary stress of the next few days. Mate’s bodies are so perfectly in sync.

“You’re her mate,” Hobi says it like that’s all there is to it, voiced hushed and reverent with the truth of it.

“But what if I'm not enough and I want to be enough."

“You have a pack- you’ve got us. It’s not just on you anymore.”

Yoongi’s heart is thudding so fast, that he feels like he can’t tear his eyes away from the driveway. It will be a few more hours still until you and Namjoon get home.  

Until then, the two of them stand there and wait. Yoongi tips sideways until he’s leaning into Hobi’s chest and Hobi's hands hold Yoongi up, carry the weight of his body. That at least, he can carry.

~-~

The drive home is long and uncomfortable. Several times you double over, curling up in a ball in the front seat, the cramps racking through you violently and without pause.

Everything presses into you, the seatbelt, Namjoon's scent. The distance between you and the house, you and your nest, you and the pack. Everything is an oppressive weight pinning your breath in your chest and making you breathe quick.

Namjoon’s hands stay on the wheel, the back of your neck sometimes. His palm is cool against your clammy skin. Soothing you with grumbles and words of encouragement that do little to actually help the pain. After an hour or so, Namjoon just can’t stop saying, “I’m sorry.” over and over again.

You don’t stop you drive straight through, skirting traffic and long stretches of brake lights that seem to stretch on for miles and bleed into each other. Irritating your eyes and making you close them. Your skin is so oversensitive that every place it touches your scratchy sweater or the leather seat feels like too much, the sensation too vibrant and intense.

You wish Yoongi was here, his clothes are always so soft, and his hair and his skin too. You wish you had his scent on you and not Namjoon's- the thoughts makes you feel so guilty you dare not voice it.   

And then the nausea starts and you have to turn away from Namjoon at every available opportunity so that you don't vomit. Especially when the car lurches. You have him crack the windows and then open them fully the worse it gets; you dry heave out the open window.

“I’m sorry Joonie I don’t know why I'm,” Your face leans against the open door, sweaty somehow but still cold regardless of Namjoon’s jacket over your shoulders and the heat pumping from the vents.

“It’s alright pup, it’s okay, you don't need to apologize. Jin gets this way too.” You couldn’t even pinpoint what was so wrong in his scent if you wanted to but the curdling nature of his liquor in coffee makes you feel like you’ve just taken a dozen shots on Christmas Eve. You feel nauseous, teary-eyed, and upset. Something clawing at your chest that hurts more than anything else.

You must fall asleep at some point, or fall into a stupor because you feel it in your bones that you’re home before Namjoon even fully comes to a halt. Eyes still shut but blood singing and heart beating quick. You hear it, the whisper of your mate’s scent in the air. Maybe someone actually says your name, maybe you hear it from far away.

Your fingers fumble on the door handle and you don’t even have your eyes open as you tumble out of the car. The car lurches to a stop the same second you try to get out, dizzy and off-kilter, trying to get your feet under you while vertigo makes the world spin, the streetlight, a figure silhouetted against the porch light runs to you.

You see him in double vision.

“Pup- Don’t-" But Namjoon is too late to warn you and You fall out of the car onto the gravel.

The momentum of the car takes you, banging into the door first with so much force that it's jaring before you crumple onto the gravel where it digs into your hands sharp. Painful.

But you hardly feel it. Your hands are suddenly slippery with something you can't see. Something you don't care about because you just need to get inside, you just need to get to the figure running towards you. Seeing double- are there two people running towards you or just one?

Dizzy, you are so dizzy and you actually are going to vomit. No sooner have you wretched onto the gravel below you than is someone picking you up, and you actually do let out a high-pitched keen.

His hands are under your arms, the light from the porch casting his face into shadow chiaroscuro, but you'd know him anywhere. If not from his scent or the fluff of his hair then by the way your heart sings when he touches you.

"I've got you, I've got you. Oh sweetheart, it's gonna be okay- i'm here."

Yoongi presses his face to the top of your head. And you grip the front of his jacket while he picks you up. His hand rubbing away the frustrated tears on your cheeks. Hands pushing back the hair from your sweaty face, your flushed cheeks.

And then your hand comes up to touch his face, and both of you see the blood.

There is blood on your hands, on the side of Yoongi's face when you touch him.

Yoongi smells so good, so unbelievably good. Like sleep after sex, like chocolate ice cream in the middle of a summer night, so sweet and heady and musky you start to leak slick a little, Legs shaky. You don't care about the metallic cling of blood to the air. Everything else is unimportant but him and staying close to him.

You shrink away from the tall presence behind you, Namjoon bristles, and Tae is on the top of the steps watching you. Her voice almost hissed. "Don't do that again." Namjoon grips the back of your shirt, huffing a tired sigh.

“Don’t run away from us pup it’s not-”

But then He spots the blood, suddenly strong-arming his way around Yoongi to get to it despite your chirp of protest. Namjoon's hands are big where they clutch at your hands, his hair standing on end. There is another person behind Yoongi. You weren't seeing double.

“Not safe,” Jimin finishes, pulling Yoongi towards the house. And then the wind shifts casting the scent of blood to Jimin and his nostrils flare. His whole body tenses and a growl sounds out before he's even seen, looking down at your hand. Eloquent with his. "Oh- oh fuck- how the fuck did you even fuck up your hand like that?"

"Get her inside" Namjoon barks. His anger a wild thing in the darkness. Your sweet heat scent tangles with the smell of blood sets them all on edge.

"What?" You say, unsticking your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you don't like how cross your alphas sound, "What did I do?"

No one answers you, Yoongi curls around you as if he's trying to use his body to shield you from any prying eyes. Namjoon settles a hand on the back of Yoongi's neck and pushes him towards the house, towards the den, towards safety.

Your knees knock, and then give out. It's only through the virtue of having so many of them around you and Yoongi still basically holding you up that you don't fall over again.

"I'll get your stuff from the car."

"No- leave it Jimin just help me."

The sensations tangle. Jimin and Namjoon and their unhappy scents. Yoongi’s strong arms. Yoongi’s hands on you basically carrying you up and over the slate to the steps. Jimin is close beside him, You glance over Yoongi's shoulder at Jimin, watching his jaw roll. You turn your face away from him and his drawn expression. His stinky stinky vanilla and smoke scent- stale and grating- everything is too much too much too much.

"What's going on? Why can't I stand?" Even your own voice sounds far away.

"It's your blood pressure," Namjoon snaps.

Yoongi’s hard hands grip around your waist and when you pull back a little his dark hair catches the light from the streetlight and he ducks in close. Rubbing his chin across the crown of your head. “I’ve got you; I’ve got you, here- get inside.”

He half carries you half walks you back up the steps under the porch light. Tae opens the door for you huffing, looking tired, a ring of hickeys bitten into her pretty pretty collar bones. You want to rub your face into them and add your own marks but she also smells too intense to get too close. "Pup? What's-"

You push your face into Yoongi’s throat in reply, so close that Yoongi wonders how you must be breathing; all you’re inhaling is his scent. His chocolate is a balm to your heat-fried nerves. But Yoongi feels it too, the pressure behind his eyes, his teeth, itching for a bite to render you docile and calm.

You are losing track of the minutes and moments. You are in the kitchen and your hand is under the water. Yoongi is still holding you, and Namjoon is talking to you. Making you open your palm. You can't hear what he's saying.

You try and lift up your hands, but Tae doesn't let you take Namjoon's jacket from around your shoulders. Seemingly thinking the same thing that Namjoon and the rest of them are.

That you need to be minded. It's not too far from the truth.

Your anxiety and annoyance ticks higher as you look around. Has the house changed in the last 10 hours? Why do the lights feel so bright? There are bags and bags of groceries on the counter, sitting grey-yellow like tumbleweeds, half empty.

The couch has none of its usual blankets on it and it makes your nostrils flare- Jin had a nest there this morning- why isn’t it there? Where did it go? Who took it? Where is your pack omega? Why do you feel so annoyed? Why does everything feel a little bit off?

Where is Jinnie?

Namjoon touches your scrape and it stings. A piece of gravel thumps into the kitchen sink with a metallic plunk. The water stops going red and really- you can't even feel it. You try to tell Namjoon that- but he doesn't listen.

Namjoon is biting his lower lip to keep from yelling at you. Jimin is trying to keep you standing, but you seem more intent on leaning back into Yoongi's arms to press your face into his scent gland.

His hands cradle you, holding you over your stomach, nuzzling close. Closing his eyes hard before looking up at Namjoon, eyes swimming with guilt.

"I'm sorry. I should have been quicker," his hands are shaking where they hold you. All of you are that- shaken.

But blood first, pre-heat second.

"It's not your fault." Namjoon spits, wrapping your cut firmly. Gentle with how he holds you even if he holds you so hard you cannot do anything. Cannot squirm or move or wiggle your fingers. Like this, you can do nothing at all but be held and taken care of.

The gash isn't bad at all really, it doesn't need stitches, and it runs from the middle of your thumb just down to your wrist where it peters out. Clean and not bleeding clotting. You wouldn't know that with the way that Namjoon is crouched over that the way he stiffens when he cleans the dirt from it.

"I don't think her fingers are broken, fuck- do you think Jin would let me take her to the hospital?"

"You just got home Joonie-"

"I know but-"

Instead of wiggling your fingers, you flick water in Namjoon's direction. It hits his face with an audible plop and the pack alpha flinches.

The whole pack just stares at you.

Namjoon wipes the water off of his face, slow and intentionally with every movement of his body. You sense Namjoon's composure is about to slip. Good- you really want it too.

"See I can move my fingers!" You flick Namjoon again. Smiling a little, grinning, dopy and so high on heat hormones that you think it is funny. Flicking Namjoon to show your hand isn't broken even if your knuckles are a little scraped really- you'll be fine. They don't need to act like you're dying.

You try to do it again but Jimin grabs both of your wrists, holding you still. "That is the opposite of helpful." Tae snaps.

"Don't yell at me. I'm too tiny." you say, your voice that. Small.

Namjoon whips his hands on a kitchen cloth slowly. Staring you down without saying anything.

Yoongi runs his teeth over the back of your throat, hard, enough that you feel it, and it's like it unlocks your instincts. He's not sure why he does it- why you need the release of violence before your heat begins but you do.

Jimin and Yoongi Keep you in one place as you try to lunge for Namjoon. You barely even jerk in their firm hold. strong as they are. every one of them has more than half a foot on you- you'd never stand a chance really. Jimin holds you effortlessly- without even breaking a sweat.

Namjoon grips your face in his hands, and you almost want to hiss at him. Lip lifting in a soundless snarl. His voice is a gentle hush, a tone you are intimately familiar with.

The same tone of voice that has preceded every punishment and scolding you've ever received from the pack alpha. Every time he's ever coaxed you to take his knot (icky) or an orgasm (less icky). As he drags you close and speaks to you. Soft but firm. gentle but unyielding.

"You are allowed to be needy, you are allowed to be small. You are allowed to need everything and anything and I will personally make sure that each one of those needs are fulfilled."

You aim to bite him his hand, teeth clicking together, but Tae holds your jaw. Fingers digging into your lower lip. Making your lips push out. You push at them but they hold you still.

You like it. You like feeling your alpha's strength, your mate's strength. Where they begin and you end. You want to test it want to make sure they can protect you. Want to make sure they're worthy.

For what? You can't say. you think it might have something to do with the terrible sensitivity between your thighs, the bleeding hot need slowly gripping you, a distant storm rumbling. But you're not sure.

Tae keeps your mouth open and Namjoon taps his finger against your tongue, your lips, your teeth. Does he like how sharp they are? They feel awfully sharp in your mouth. Good omega, see? You want to tell him. Strong like you. Not a pup. You don't whine and recoil the way an alpha would at being poked and prodded at. You fight one moment then go pliant the next. letting him look, letting him touch and pinch your tongue between his fingers, loling it out and making it cute. tears building at the corner of your eyes by how frustrated you feel, how much you want.

"How cute" Tae coo's and you hiss at her- or try too. Namjoon's finger pressing against your tongue stops you from doing anything but whine.

Jimin smiles. Agreeing. "Cute little omega, acting like an alpha."

Tae lets you go after she's sure you're not going to try and bite Namjoon again, You grin at him, bearing your teeth. Behind you Tae stresses, concerned at how far you're trying to push Namjoon.

"Pup-"

"No, let her hiss." Yoongi's voice rumbles behind you. You let it out and although you mean it to sound threatening, it's more a tiny kitten than a powerful jungle cat. As loud and as menacing as you can make it but still- awfully cute. Tae hides her smile behind a hand and behind you, Yoongi rolls his eyes, all fond. He sort of wishes he got that on camera.

Namjoon smiles gently. And you want to scratch it off his unnervingly pretty face. You try. But Jimin effortlessly holds your wrists.

Namjoon taps your nose and you jerk- trying to fight them but getting about two inches before both your mate and Jimin have you completely immobile.

Some part of you loves being held and controlled like this and wants to purr instead of hiss. Your mate and Minnie are so strong- they hold you so well. It makes you feel all fuzzy and floaty. Like your anger and body is a separate creatures.

"If she bites you, I'm not kissing it better."

"She's allowed" Namjoon is looking away from you and you don't like it- the pack alpha should be looking only at you. You are feeling too many things at once, so many. Angry at Namjoon and hungry for him. Annoyed by his presence but needy for his attention. "I bit her when I was in rut you know. She owes me a good nibble."

"Not gonna bite you-" you hiss while you struggle against Jimin's grasp, but he doesn't even have to fight to keep your hands from pushing at Namjoon. You want to push at him more- want to get him to lose control. "You're icky."

Namjoon laughs, and it only makes you more angry.

An omega in preheat bleeding is a creature of instinct. Your instincts can not sort through what you need and what you want. Why you're bleeding and why you're not in the nest. Confusing threat for care.

Namjoon doesn't even blink in the face of your aggression. "You're allowed to bite me and hiss and want to pick a fight- to test us- But what you are not allowed to do- not now, not ever, and certainly not in pre-heat- is jump out of a moving fucking car."

"Namjoon" Jungkook says from the doorway. Leashed anger in his voice.

The whole pack looks up at him and you break eye contact, breaking the spell on all of you- and you go from jungle cat to fluffy kitten in two seconds.

You forget Namjoon instantly at the sight of him.

Jungkook is there, Jungkook is there and he’s the only person besides your mate that doesn’t smell too much or too intense. You completely shift out of Jimin's grasp and the alpha lets you. Disregarding his anger too- as you should. He smells so yucky.

Jungkook does not smell yucky. He doesn’t smell like his unhappy rotten flowers- no- Jungkook smells so thick and happy you half expect your mouth to be stuck shut with honey when you open your lips and chirp. It sounds petulant and pupish even to your own ears, but Jungkook just smiles and bullies Jimin and Tae out of the way to get his arms around you.

Yoongi does not. But you wouldn't want him to anyway. He back hugs you, keeping your back pressed against his chest. Face tucked into your throat.

Strange. All of that was so strange. you're angry one minute then sweet the next. utterly pliant and a doll under their touch. scenting you this way and that.

You tangle your hand in Jungkook’s shirt and grab him, tug him close. Whining. The corners of his eyes crinkle. And you know all your fears of pushing this on them so suddenly are for nothing.

Jungkook bounces up and down on his heels- he smells sweet and excited. You’re so relieved when you see him that you actually start crying a little. “You saw me like literally 5 hours ago-“

“I know- but- but-”

Jungkook’s purring is loud and strong against your chest. A sound that shocks out of your own chest too. A special little omegan hello.

Yoongi’s hand settles on your back, one on Jungkook’s too. “Both of you need- we’ve got to-”

"At least wait until the blinds are shut before you start purring. Are you trying to announce to the whole world that you're-" Namjoon's worrying is cut off by Tae's hand on his arm, his shoulder? Your alphas ring you, keeping their distance only slightly. Over your head- Yoongi mouths 'leave it'.

The sound of Jungkook purring fills the air with his honey-golden scent. Makes you forget about the living room and your hand, and everything else that's wrong with the den slips away. It’s a sound you usually only hear in the nest, during the quiet of the morning when things are especially good and special.

He lets you rub your face into his chest until your nose is rubbed raw- you already feel raw, everything chafing. And you let out a happy little trill when he rubs his wrist along yours.

Behind you- one of your alpha's lets out a deep pleased growl. Someone says something that sounds like "Possessive little shit" pouty and grumpy that they didn't get to you first.

You sense that things are being said over the top of your head but you have neither the want nor brain cells to listen to them. Trying to press your face as hard as you can into Jungkook's throat. Into Yoongi’s, then back again.

Jungkook paws at your sweater, and you protest for a moment before you let him, tugg up the hem, not off, not yet. “It’s too scratchy” he nips at your throat, rubbing his wrist over your stomach at the same time. The pleasure-good-nest-Jungkook-omega of it makes your knees go a little weak.

Yoongi catches you and Namjoon jerks forward arms out. For all his snapping he is still the first person to reach to catch you. “Wait until she’s in the nest Jk here-” They puppet you- and you’re honestly more interested in pressing your face to his and Yoongi’s necks than helping them waddle walk you across the house.

Good- something nearby smells really really good. Not like Namjoon who smells too stressed, the scent of his displeasure a zing against your nose. Not like Jiminie who's all stinky, not like the touches of Taetae here. Her's is usually a scent that you love but now she smells so cloying you want to paw at your nose and get it out.

“Hobi and Jinnie are already in the nest-” Namjoon stoops to kiss Jimin's mouth, a quick peck that interrupts his words. “Koo was helping me cook and I think we've got enough food but-"

"That's perfect Mini thank you."

Jimin preens under the pack alpha's attention and you whine. On closer inspection Jimin and Jungkook and just about everyone is covered in bite marks ringing their throats. You know the shape of Jinnies mouth. The sight of them has you blinking, wide-eyed, an ache in your jaw that you don’t understand.

Pretty alpha’s you need to bite your pretty alphas- they’re just so yummy. Yummy but stinky. Maybe you can wait until after they shower and they stop smelling so gross.

Yoongi huffs, answering you even though you didn’t realize you were speaking. “You need to eat real food first,” you stay buried in his chest. Namjoon sighs.

They move you slowly through the house, stepping over curled-up heaps of blankets on the floor. Inelegant curls of fabric.

You know what they are- decoy nests. Meant to distract any potential alphas or predators from finding your real nest. A behavior that like the purring and chirping, is vestigial. You know your alphas are strong enough that they’d never dream of letting anyone into your den.

Luckily, they're not any of your usually favored nesting materials- the blanket that’s just a slightly displeasing shade of chartreuse here, the one that has too thick seems here. You don’t mind them, something about the sight of them makes the last of your anxiety dissipate.

You can only imagine Jin feeling what you feel- the anxious ever gripping anxiety of an unseen threat, not having Namjoon nearby must have done a number on him. You love him, even if you wanna bite him. You tell him that.

"I know- Just-" he grumbles. Admits, "love you too."

You won’t be confused; you know your pack omega wouldn’t want you anywhere else but in your real nest next to him. Jungkook and Yoongi steer you. Guiding you not to the nest upstairs but through the house past your and Yoongi's old bedroom. On the way past the door, namjoon checks the lock, making sure it's secure.

They take you through the house to the pack's old bedroom. What had been turned into a little extra shelf space for Tae’s collection has now been disassembled. Redesigned in Jin’s nesting fervor.

You don’t know how your alphas moved the shelves out because you thought you saw Yoongi bolt them to the studs. You have a sinking suspicion that they’ve put them in the room at the end of the hall- all of the clutter stuffed there to where it can’t aggravate the sensitive pack omega.

The nest almost takes your breath away. It's so perfect.

The floors have been laid clean; mattresses piled from wall to wall with only a small space of spare floor to step into the room. Every single pillow and blanket and what looks to be half of the pack’s wardrobe are piled in concentric circles.

It’s a good choice, to have your heat here. The walls feel so close and yet the ceiling doesn’t feel too far away, cozy and protected. The warm walls are shadowed by the lights above. The translucent curtains pool and hover like low-hanging clouds and keep the nighttime out. You're protected here on the ground floor and the alpha's won't have to go too far to get you food and pee and do whatever else they'll need to do while you're in heat.

The nest itself is so pretty that it almost brings tears to your eyes. There are pieces of you and the pack everywhere. Jin has thoughtfully lined some of your stuffed animals against the wall and Noodle's cat bed is tucked into a corner. Your big blue blanket- your favorite blanket- has been fluffed and kneaded in the center. The twin to it- Jin’s favorite- a thinner duvet that's yellow and rough and holey matches on the other side like two crescent moons.

Jungkook’s whole collection of throw pillows is scattered about- the ones with funny shapes and the velvet fur and fine silk fabrics. They build up the walls and guard the nest from the doorway. But the placement of them is a little off. Not like Jungkook hadn’t been caring where he put them, but like he’d been distracted. You can fix it later.

Blankets ring a wide center in heaps, dotted with the pack's clothing; your and Hobi’s favorite sweatshirt, Yoongi’s flannel, Tae’s delicate silk dresses (with holes bitten into them by the pack omega’s blunt little teeth). You can’t go more than a step into the room without disturbing it.

You stand in the doorway dizzy. It feels good, gets a weakness to your bones to be back here. In this room back where it all started, the first room that you were ever Jin and Namjoon’s. You remember being so shy and unsure looking across the hall and wondering what it would be like to enter as a lover. You remember wondering if you’d ever feel welcome- if you’d ever be welcome.

Now you don’t have to wonder, you feel the rightness in your bones when you look at it.

Your blood sings, your heart beats quick. Instincts screaming good here safe, pack omega pack omega pack omega.

Jinnie.

Jin looks like he’s not as pleased with how the nest has turned out; quite the opposite. If you had to choose a word to describe the pack omega you’d choose scruffy.

He looks like Noodle after a bath and a blow-dry. None of his carefully curated edges are intact. He’s underneath the windows on his knees. A bit of stubble on his chin, his cheeks and under eyes puffy. A determined look in his eyes as he sets about fluffing one of the duvets. Curling it, winding it with another to make a structurally supportive border, delicate. His hair half pushed up by the back like he’s been rolling around in the nest to make sure it's properly scented. 

Jungkook’s hand settles on the back of your neck, and Yoongi’s fingers brush your palm. Jimin and Tae watch from a distance, they know not to come any closer- after already having had their heads bit off for even daring to pass by and double-check that Jin’s okay, that he’s gotten everything he needs.

Namjoon's eyes are honey pools as he watches Jin, a soft growl building in his throat. Pretty pack omega, mine, my lovely little Jinnie. Namjoon's blood sings with the urge to protect, the need to provide and keep safe.

After substantially ordering the lot of them around and nibbling them until the hunger in his chest quieted. Jin had promptly banned them the alpha's from the nest until you had a chance to alter it.

But Jin didn’t need to worry. It’s perfect. You don’t want to change a single thing.

(Well- logically- Noodle's nest should be by the door so that he can escape when he needs to. You don’t think you should allow him to use it while the heat actually going on...but it would be nice if he wanted to cuddle in pre-heat).

For all of his fussing, Jin doesn’t immediately notice that you’re in the doorway waiting for him. Waiting for permission to enter his nest like a good pup. Teetering, swaying with the pack omega’s movements, eyes following his hands. A needy and petulant chirp building behind your lips that's hard to restrain.

Then all at once, a lump near the window moves- you’d thought it was just another pile of blankets but it’s Hobi. His hair pushed up and ruffled at the back like he’s been scented to hell and back. He looks a little chewed up, a little bitten, wearing a ring of hickeys around his throat that looks suspiciously like a collar. A big tank top that you’ve never seen him in shrouding his slender body.

He makes eye contact with you and your legs go wobbly again.

“Hyung.”

Jin’s head whips around, eyes narrowing the second he sees you. Lifting his lip in a greedy snarl that sounds suspiciously like “my pup.” and then he hisses, not at you but at the alphas behind you, lingering too close.

Jin lunges- pulling you swiftly into the nest, pulling you to his chest where his heart beats- rabbit frantic against your cheek.

You heave a sigh of relief.

“Nest thief, Pup thief, back-”

Namjoon lifts his hands, backing away. Jimin too, his non-proverbial tail tucked between his legs. Tae does her best not to let the rejection show on her face.

“Sorry Jinnie.”

“Sorry, love you, won’t come in again”

"Call us if you need anything!" They slink away down the hall as Yoongi gently lowers himself onto the edge of the nest and lets you shuffle forward, stifling his laughter. Jungkook flops down, pulling a pillow to his chest and sitting criss cross.

"You tell em babe." Jin's hiss peters off. nosing through your hairline eagerly. Sitting in his lap sideways as Jin clutches you to his chest. “Nest thief?” You parrot, a little dazedly, a little quiet as Jungkook starts to pull at your sweater. Pouting at it.

“This is too scratchy for the nest.”

Jin noses along your shoulder, big and imposing and all right there. he recoils when he tries to rub his cheek along your shoulder. The scratchy texture that assaults his senses. Agreeing with Jungkook's assessment that your sweater is too scratchy. biting and nipping at the collar before he pulls back.

"What is this?" he hisses, grabbing the sleeves of it. Yanking at the fine wool and pulling the stitches loose.

"Joonie's. I was cold."

Jin shrivels his nose. "Alpha knows nothing about nesting."

"You know nothing John Snow." Hobi parrots and Jungkook rewards his shameless meme reference with a pillow to the face and a grin. You hardly notice them roughhousing, careful as they are not to disturb the nest too much.

Your pack omega looms over you, puppetting you until you're spread out. Ignoring your weak whines to stay close. jin's hands and gaze go hungry as he noses along the side of your neck to the hollow of your throat. down. check- he needs to check and make sure that no one got to you- that the icky icky nest thief did no damage. (You have a feeling Jin's also checking to make sure that he left you un-bred.)

Your pack omega is so much stronger than you- a few bratty wiggles do nothing to stop him as he examines you, lifting each of your extremities up to nuzzle and inspect and scent. giving particular attention to your stomach. Yoongi shuffles over, laying a hand flat there.

"Good tummy?" you ask, shy and small. An omega's tummy is always particularly sensitive even outside of a heat. Your shyness now has nothing to do with your body and the state of it. Nothing to do with your weight but everything to do with the fact that Jin and Yoongi are touching the place that the alpha's will breed later. Cradling and being delicate with your hips and stomach. Soft and vulnerable. strumming his fingers over the fine hairs reverently.

You wouldn't let any of the alpha's outside touch you there, you might not even let jk touch. Only your mate and pack omega are allowed, are safe enough.

Yoongi ducks low to peck your nose. you wiggle happily at the sensory pleasure of it, hiding your face in your hands because your emotions are too much. You're too happy, the way yoongi's looking at you makes you feel too much love- your chest might burst with it.

"Best tummy" he corrects you.

Jin continues his check of you, touching everywhere he can get too. stripping off your socks and tossing them into the hallway. Fingers running over everything. Your hips your sides your stomach. You wait with baited breath for him to notice and when he gets to your hand and nuzzles into the gauze- his eyes shoot open and He snarls.

Distantly down the hall, you hear, "That wasn't us!"

Jin nuzzles into the bandage on your hand, lip lifting at the smell of blood, upset, near sick with worry as he pulls back to look at you. eyes starting to swim with tears. "Hurt- pup hurt."

You quiet Jin's tears with a nuzzle into the side of his wrist. The urge to bite down, to mark him, is almost overpowering. "Alpha made it better, alpha almost let me bite him." You're sort of giddy with it.

Jin grumbles. Cheek rubbing against your hand, aching dully just like the quiet pitter patter of your heart.

"Nest thief, icky alpha," Jin hisses.

"Icky." You agree.

"Hurt?" Jin asks, laconic and speaking through one-word phrases, but the sight of you in pain has Jin coming back to himself just a little.

"No worse than my cramps." You squirm, and Jinnie holds you closer. hands loop around your waist, hovering on your stomach in a different way. Protecting where you're sensitive with the wide splay of his palms. But there's nothing he or any of them can do.

"How's yours?"

Jin sighs and rubs his cheek along the top of your head. Flopping over and curling around you. done with his inspection of you for now. "Coming and going. Not bad."

Yoongi huffs, combing a hand through your hair then Jin's, Both of your bodies are boneless temporarily, relaxing- with no intention of moving or fluffing the nest.

Yoongi pecks your head and then Jins and then starts to get up. "I'll get the heating pad" he depresses the nest under his feet. And no- that's not right.

Yoongi is so special and soft and yours. He can't leave the nest now, not when you've just gotten here. One of the alphas can go get it, you don't want him to leave the nest. You perk up, pulling yourself onto your knees- even that level of movement makes you dizzy.

You don't know why, but the thought of Yoongi leaving the nest is terrifying. Makes you so scared you feel like crying. Adrenaline pumping until you're scrambling for him, grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt, pulling it until he stop. Swiping and grabbing at Yoongi's sweatshirt. Pulling at the hem of it.

He looks back, looks down at you, eyes a little wide. lips parted, as your eyes slowly go glassy. Filling with tears.

Behind you, Hobi stifles his laughter. Jin just looks down at you, so much fondness in his gaze that it's hard to look at without feeling like Yoongi's intruding. Yoongi is not intruding. Yoongi could never intrude. You stare up at him and whine until he sits back down.

Yoongi still has blood on the side of his face, your blood. A faint splatter of it over his jaw where you'd cupped his face. Jin purrs and pulls the beta down to his level before he licks it off his cheek.

You blush, and Jungkook cringes. "Gross hyung."

"Can't- don't-" words are so hard for you to say in this state. All of the aggression from before melted away, and now you are gentle and small. You need Yoongi. You need Yoongi right next to you or else something terrible will happen- you're sure of it. You press your face into his throat and his hands come back up to hold you. Suddenly the urge to bite is there, but you don't, just nuzzle and crowd him.

He lets you, holding you when you get a bit too aggressive in your scent marking, and threaten to make both of you topple over. eyes wide with surprise.

You hum, satisfied, a purr starting up in your chest that has the air turning sweet where it had been tense. Pressing your face into his chest, body boneless and gravity doing its work as you search his body the same way Jin examined yours.

You find it the mating mark, nosing under the fabric until Yoongi tenderly cups the back of your head and pulls his shirt up. "There- better?" You purr and rub it up against your cheek. Sprawling in the nest. Your hair gets all messy as you push and push and push your face into his mating mark.

Yoongi smells so good there. The best. Sweet sweet sweet chocolate. you nibble a little at the puckered skin and are rewarded with a noise- half moan and half sigh. yoongi's thighs splay wide giving you access. He tucks your hair behind your ear and above your head, Hobi and he share a long special look.

You pull at his waistband and Jin stops your hand. "No pup, not yet."

"But- but-" your protests fall on deaf ears. Jin is so strong, picks up your hips and lies you flat. Hands continue their checking moving south regardless of your shuddery squeeks.

He tries to get between your legs, and Jungkook stops him. Jin goes at him teeth snapping. Jungkook just grins. "Cute hyung but no- you told me not to let you do that."

You kick your feet a little, but Hobi reaches over to grab your ankle. "Why? why can't we?"

Jungkook detangles you from Yoongi, from Jin, gentle and slow so that your instincts aren't triggered. directing your face up to where the air is clearer and guiding you to breathe until your mind clears a little.

Jungkook strokes over your throat, looking down at you. "Any sexual attention at all from any of us will make your heat come quicker. For the record I'm all for it- but the rest of the pack want your heat to be gentle."

The fact that they'd had a plan that you hadn't been apart of, makes you feel warm all over. And it has nothing to do with your heat. These things are just too big for you to grasp. So vulnerable and too pupish to make your own decisions. You don't even protest at what Jungkook says or try to deny it. you don't lie and say that you can decided for yourself how you want your heat to come.

This is why you have a pack, why you're at the bottom of the hierarchy. Why would you ever even need to make decsions for yourself? They know best.

A tightness in Yoongi's chest eases, just a little. Watching you and Jin and Jungkook interact with each other. You tense up, and your cramps, are suddenly there. Fingers leaving Yoongi in favor of cradling your stomach and whimpering. curling up quick.

Jin growls and tries to pry your hand away from your stomach. but Yoongi sets a hand on your back as you curl up. "Breathe deep for me sweetheart, breathe. You're doing so well." But there is nothing any of them can do but hold you through them.

Jungkook does not hop up, or hold you, just rolls until he's by the door, sticking his head out to shout down the hall, Jimin's head pops from around the corner almost immediately followed by Tae's. Both of them look pink-cheeked and red-lipped. (Jungkook knows how they are, how the scent of omega's in pre-heat riles them up.)

"Heating pad? For pup?" His eyelids flutter, and Tae watches him as Jimin jumps up, almost slipping into his socks on the polished wood floor.

"On it." 

Tae watches Jungkook intently before he slips back into the nest.

the cramp stops and you relax, uncurling yourself. Jin's thumbs rub over your belly, and you nuzzle into him. He lets you nuzzle into his stomach too. He's so soft here- so soft and plush and cozy, it's honestly unfair. You have to concentrate really hard to speak, alternating from pushing your face into Jinnie's tummy and Yoongi's hip. You don't really know why other than that you need to. 

"Are you? Close yet?"

Jin leans low to rub his chin over the crown of your head. His body isn't tight with cramps. Not like yours is. "No, but soon."

His eyes are wide and glassy, licking his lower lip. But Jin seems to come back to himself a little in the face of you in discomfort, the idea of his littlest pup in pain. “Do you want a fresh change of clothes? Some snacks? Yoongi brought some- so helpful.”

Behind you Yoongi blushes and Jungkook pinches his cheeks, your mate tries to swat his hands away. “Yah-”

It seems you're not the only one keen for a fight, between the two of them- Hobi and Yoongi get Jungkook just like you and Jin, sprawled in the nest and purring at a nip to his throat. You and Jin pay them no mind. their rough housing.

“Do you want some water, to eat? To sleep to-

You stop him, leaning over, pushing your face into his thighs, flopping over, cutting off his rabid train of thought. Resting your head on his lap. “Just want this, just need this.” You peek up at Jin, at his stricken expression. "Please?"

Your body is so tired you don't know if you could move if you wanted to. Finally- finally you're not too cold or too hot, just perfect, just right. Just fine right here. Jin threads his hand through your hair, hard, urging you towards his stomach.

He’s so soft and vulnerable there. You need to protect his tummy- make sure no one gets close to it who isn't perfect. The scent of Jin's slick is so distant to the urgency of protect pack Omega needs to protect that you don't even notice it as he sighs and cups the back of your head.

Hobi reaches over, to touch your head too but you growl. It's a squeaky sound, not at all as threatening as you mean for it.

His hand retracts quickly- you whine, petulant. “No- sorry I’m just-”

“Possessive” Jungkook says, touching your hips, your thighs, checking your temperature there, finding the skin hot and puffy. You sprawl out parting your tights for him to touch. Yoongi smiles, trying to hide it but failing.

“Yes.”

Jinnie Is mine. You want to say, want to say- but can’t do more than whine and growl and chirp. You're all mine, none of the alphas can have you- none of them. All mine. My nest. Omega made it for me so it's mine.

Jin’s hands run through your hair after a moment, combing through it and twisting it to keep it out of the way. Until all he’s teasing at are the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. Pulling at them softly like a lifeline drawing you out of your instincts. You keep eye contact with him, lucidity growing in each of you the longer you spend in each other's presence.

Jin and Yoongi make everything feel alright, makes everything not feel scary.

When you look back up at him Jin looks more lucid, more aware of what he's doing and who he's doing it with. A crinkle between his eyebrows that will make fine lines in a year or two.

You nudge against his palm; you don't have to ask more than that to get him to tell you what he's thinking

“I kinda thought that you might want a heat without all of us- just you and Yoongi- or at least one where we could take care of you.”

Jin’s cheek is chubby where his lips pout, you love it. It looks like a crescent moon. You want to bite it, his cheek, and feel the give of your pack omega under your teeth. Yoongi answers for you.

"No, of course not- you guys are-"

You curl up, your knees nudging Yoongi's back, dragging him closer to where you and Jin are cuddled.

“I’m not going to be able to take care of you quite as well as I hoped. Your first heat won’t go like how I wanted it.” Jin’s voice sounds so sad, almost broken.

You and Yoongi immediately fold yourself close. You tangle your injured hand with Jin's gently. Yoongi leans in, pressing a kiss to Jin’s spine and the pack omega sighs at the sensitivity and soreness.

“It’s okay, you can’t control it and-” and it’s nearly better this way. You’re honestly so tired that you couldn’t even start to nest, and even if you could- you doubt that you’d be able to make a nest as lovely as this one. You say that- say it.

And Hobi fluffs up, keeping his distance after you growl at him. But he's there at the edge of the nest. Your eyes narrow.  “I told him to put up Christmas lights just in case.”

"Can I bite you?" Hobi raises an eyebrow at you. But you see the telltale way his cheeks pink up. "I need to bite Jinnie first, and then Yoongi, but after-"

A giggle shocks from your packmates but Jin just huffs at you, eyes melting away from frustration and into endearment. His scent is sweet and cloying milk.

"You mean you don't want me to leave?" Hobi asks slowly, carefully while Jin's fingers rub at your waist, under the waistband of your pants Apparently dissatisfied with them. Starting to tug them off until you're in nothing but your underwear. Jungkook takes them and tucks them into the outer layer of the nest.

"No? Why would I want that?"

Jin doesn't let you and Hobi hash it out yet, preoccupied with the idea of being marked and bitten.

He tugs you up and closer. Ushering you close to his neck and scent gland, puffy and inflamed just under his jaw. Face to face with it again you cannot make your mouth reply to Hobi's question, mouth-watering.

You nose at his throat for a second but then Jin's hands are pulling you closer and your mouth parts against his skin. You suck and suck and suck, Jinnies scent gland is so squishy beneath your teeth. The skin is sweet.

You lose yourself a little. Going needy and clingy, hand tangling with the front of his shirt. You feel his sigh, his relief at having you close. The give under your teeth that states an unfurling hunger in your chest, the kind of hunger that's starting to burn.

"My little omega," he croons, running a hand over the back of your head while you suck to your heart's content. Your heart rate slows a little. Thudding loud in your ears. A finger nudges your cheek and you growl. Jungkook just laughs at you.

By the time you pull back, you're dazed and every breath is Jinnie Jinnie Jinnie. Jin's throat has several small marks on it, little and pink. The pack omega smells so good, so soft and good. love Jinnie so much, just wanna stay next to Jinnie in the nest forever, and never wanna leave. Best nest, perfect nest for pups-

"Pups? You're pups." Jin pouts, cheeks pink, and you grip his shirt. The others are there and you'll mark them soon but you need to be done with the pack omega first. Need to mark him first before any of the alpha's so that they know he's yours, before he's theirs. Can't steal the pack omega away from you- you need him too much.

"Nest thief" Jin hisses, sitting up quick, and jostles you. Sending you out of your omegaspace because of the way you almost fall. Almost fall except for the way that Jin curls over the top of you and hisses in the direction of the doorway. And you sense a movement by the door, letting out a growl and wheeling, turning.

"I'm just dropping off some water." Namjoon says, retreating with open palms. the heating pad sits rolled up at the edge of the nest too. "Love you guys, goodnight."

"Nest thief?" You ask again. Still a little dazed. Still very out of it.

“Jin’s been calling Namjoon that. He’s angry that he stole you.” Hobi says, voice rough in the nighttime quiet. A laugh hovering on the edge of his words.

Any reply you could possibly muscle is quieted by Jin’s needy trill- the pack omega displeased that your attention is not on him, not focused on him. He pulls your sweater up and over your head to replace the scratchy sweater with a shirt. Formerly folded into the edge of the nest that smells strongly of Jungkook.

You hold your chest wearing no bra, just in your underwear, hiding from their gazes just a little. Although the pack knows your body better than you do- being nude still feels a little sensitive a little too much.

Yoongi wordlessly sets a hand on your thigh. Rubbing up and down your skin, soothing away your goosebumps with his warm palm.

You grimace at what Jin offers you.

“Jinnie- I love you, but I’m not putting on Jungkook’s used workout shirt."

Jin blinks down at what’s in his hands, lower lip wobbling. “but- but-”

Jungkook’s and Hobi’s chests are shaking with quiet laughter, and Yoongi smiles as he hunts through a nearby basket before peeling his own shirt off and tugging it over your head. "hands up" he says, and you obey him. kissing him on the way out, yoongi tugs your hair out of the collar, twisting it away from your face but not tying it up to sleep. The long fabric pools around your thighs. “There- is that better?”

Jin just looks up at Yoongi and purrs. Rubbing his face into your back. "best."

Jin tugs and you fall into a heap onto the nest. Pulled against his front. Jinnie is- Jinnie is so warm, the whole house and the ride over you’d felt so cold, and now- now you feel so warm. Jinnie’s body feels like sunshine pressed up against you.

You breathe in deep expecting everything to smell happy, but you freeze; Hobi smells sour.

You didn't realize it because he was covered, burritoed in, but as he pulls himself out from under the blanket to get a glass of water, it sends his sourness everywhere. Before anyone can stop you, you shuffle and flop over top of him. You whine, burying your face in his stomach. Keening high. Displeased.

Hobi almost spills the glass of water all over you but doesn't by virtue of Yoongi's steadying hand. “Jeeze, don’t get all teary-eyed on us.” You breathe in and out, blinking away your tears, Hobi’s hand rubs through your hair trying to soothe you. Yoongi takes the glass from him.

“Not crying cuz I’m upset, just-” You let out a frustrated noise.

Hobi’s eyes are dark with understanding. “I can get up and leave if you want I know that I’m not-“ an omega, goes unspoken, but your arms just tighten further around his waist.

You remember everything he’s ever said about his last pack- Moonbyul’s pack (you remind yourself as you have had too many times over the last few months.) How they’d never let him stay in their nests through their heats.

Unless they need to use him.

You have a lump in your throat thinking about that. a lump that feels like anger but can go nowhere but inward. You can’t imagine making him feel that way. Making him feel unwelcome.

The others aren’t allowed in the nest because your skin is too sensitive, too friable, their scents too pungent with wanting too easy to want. but Hobi’s scent is not as intense and not as irritating. Nothing about his caramel scent is yucky- just soft and subdued beyond the sourness there from nerves.

“Why don’t you smell-“ Hobi’s hands tighten on his forearms, and he closes his eyes, cringing as he waits for it. “bad like the others do? You don't smell awful like Namjoon?”

Jungkook huffs a giggle, but he's the only one. there is laughter coming fromt he hallway. Yoongi sighs, making eye contact with Hobi before he answers. Hobi bites his lip, looks like he’s about to cry, shuts his eyes shut tight tight so that he doesn’t have to watch your expression. You, the person he trusts more than any to understand this, to understand him.

“Most alpha's bodies react to an omega in heat- becoming stronger so that omega’s can find them once the heat starts and make it come quicker with their hormones. But Hobi’s body doesn’t have the same reaction anymore. Not even before you.”

Since the abuse. You read between the lines. the fact that they'd hurt him so bad, so bad that his body and his scent changed, that they'd altered him so- feels so unfair, that you can't change it- can't make it better.

You go still, looking back up at him utterly stricken by this information. Hobi holds out his arms. Thin but muscular looking. Strong even if his smile is fragile and tight.

"So Scent away pupcake- I'm not gonna make your heat come quicker."

You pull yourself over to him and rest there. Hobi's arms do not tremble as he hugs you, just briefly until Jin pulls you back to him. So that you're sitting in Jin's lap but holding onto Hobi. It's like they're playing tug of war with their favorite toy.

You like being their toy. You like being the lowest one in the hierarchy because it means you get coddled and controlled and treated like you're precious. You don't let Jin pull you back right away, looping your arms around Hobi's neck. Closing your eyes and thinking hard. Putting all your energy into imagining it.

You think of all your favorite things; Noodle and late-night drives, cuddling with Yoongi in the morning, and helping Tae with her makeup. The feel of Jimin's hand in yours. The way he's always watching, the way he's always checking. The sound of Jungkook's laugh and Joonie's kisses and when Jin asks you to nest with him.

You cuddle up in Hobi's lap and think of only happy things- so that you smell as happy as you can- just so that he knows. 

Hobi's breath is coming shaky and when you look up Yoongi's holding his face. Yoongi's thumb wipes away the wetness on his cheek and You rub your face into his throat the same way you did with Jin. Hobi smells soggy-sad-happy, like he's sad but it's healing.

It's late and everyone is tired, but certain things take precedence over sleep. You nudge his nose with yours, "Can I bite you?"

A laugh shocks out of his chest, a little relieved sounding. "What is it with you and biting?"

"You're very…" Your eyes flicker down his form, making him blush "Biteable."

Hobi tilts his throat, happy you can't feel his heartbeat, can't hear it going quick. "Go for it."

You tug at the collar of Hobi's tank top. You don't mark his throat next to Jinnie's marks. You leave your mark for the space just over his heart, small, you don't want him to feel the ache. You don't want any of this to hurt him.

Your teeth dig and hobi sighs, hand coming up to cradle your head. "You can take what you need- you can-" (Hobi tells himself that anyone alpha or not- would have the same reaction in their body at having a hickey sucked here, tells himself that the half chub in his sleep shorts isn't permission or a confession. Even if Hobi wants those things- wants this with you. His brain is all tangled, memories and wants and fears a dizzying combination that stops him from acting confidently)

When you pull back, you press your forehead to Hobi's. You know you won't be lucid for much longer. That if you go to sleep, you'll probably wake up in omegaspace and that will be it. But there are things you need to say to Hobi.

This is all still so new to him. All of this, the sex and the marking and the scenting. You haven't had sex with him enough, haven't learned him enough for this.

"I'm not going to be hurt, if you only want to help Jinnie okay? If you're not ready then I'm not ready." 

Hobi swallows hard, eyes glassy nodding. He can't say anything, can't open his mouth without crying so he doesn't. Can't do more but tangle his hand with yours and squeeze.

Jin pets through Hobi's short hair, purring deep and rumbly.

“See alpha- pup wants you- told you she would, told you she wasn't gonna want you to leave the nest” Jin croons, petting more and more as you bury your face in Hobi’s throat. You luxuriate in the feeling of having them close and heave the first easy breaths you have all day as Jin settles in close behind you.

Lying both of you down in the center of the nest. Pressing his face to your vertebra crowding you up against Hobi and promptly going to sleep.

Yoongi gets up and shuts the door and the light, saying something softly to someone in the hallway. Hobi falls asleep soon after Jin. Breath evening out and eyes fluttering closed. His hand is slackening where it's tangled with yours.

You’re a little harder to settle, you toss and turn, trying to get comfortable. Jin and Hobi quickly nod off but you can’t.

You stay like that- warm in between the two of them until another cramp hits you. You hiss, hands settling over your abdomen hard. You still- tremble through the pain, and dimly- you’re aware of Yoongi rubbing up and down your back.

“Do you need-” Your hand settles over his squeezing hard- not too hard, as you breathe heavily.

Once you stop trembling, Jungkook detangles you from Jin, the pack omegas fist tangled in your shirt to keep you close. “Come here.” he guides you to rest against his chest while Yoongi gets the heating pad set up. Clicking it onto the highest setting and putting it under your shirt. "I'm so sorry baby."

You shrug, "There's nothing you can do." Sniffling quietly, "s'not your fault."

“Do you think you can stomach anything?” You shake your head at that nausea rippling through you.

"I promise i'll eat more in the morning but my cramps- they’re too-” It feels like you’re carrying a rock in your belly, something heavy that you can’t put down, can’t do away with. Your organs tighten around that weight. A heaviness without name that comes with only pain and no satisfaction.

(Is this what reproducing is? Do you feel the weight of the lives you could carry before they come? Would this hurt less if you'd be a different sort of mother Or can the world feel how unequipped you are and how selfish you'd and is punishing you for it. You’re old enough to have a pup and yet- you feel so small, so unprepared, so childlike.)

Jungkook sets his hands on your stomach.

You open your eyes and look up at him. his dark hair that settles over his forehead like inky strands of night. Jungkook looks at you and you know that he knows. That he understands.

(Being able to have kids is more of an open wound that an advantage, you wish alphas knew that. It’s all a big question; to stem the wound or keep bleeding, to not bleed at all and count the lack of blood as payment. To tell yourself, I don’t want to be a mother anyway).

(But I wouldn’t mind having a family.) 

(you've already got one, and they're all around you)

Jungkook settles you back against his chest, and the warmth of his body pressed behind you instantly makes you feel better. Jungkook readjusts the heating pad, removing it from your front and placing it instead on your back, between your ass and his lap. The relief of it is instant. It doesn’t get rid of all the pain but heat is what you need.

You sigh against him, relaxing against his chest while your mate rubs at your hips, watching you, looking down at you. Then Jungkook’s fingers dig into your abdomen- digging in on either side of your hips and you almost keen at how good it feels.

You know he has experience, that he's learned from pt and the other personal trainers at his gym how to massage- how to get rid of aches and pains. you just didn't know heat cramps where one of the things he could help with.

The relief is sort of instant as he starts massaging up and down your stomach and sides. He keeps the pressure even and firm and it’s like he’s holding the weight between your hips.

You feel his breath against your ear, and he closes his mouth around your lobe sucking on it just a little. You're distracted by the way he holds you, holds all the pain, and tells you with his body that it's okay and you go boneless.

but Jungkook sucks his own mark into your throat, sucking at your scent gland until you go sweet and pliant.

He moves his fingers, going up and down either side of your stomach, digging close and low to your mound but it's not sexual. Not yet. Every moment of it eases away the ache.

Jungkook’s blunt omega teeth dig into the nape of your neck. His voice husky when he tells you to sleep. He’s so warm behind you.

Very very very warm.

You should bite him too, before the others have a chance to. The same way you did with Jinnie. You have to let the alpha's know that Jungkook is yours.

Before he gets any warmer.

That will have to wait until morning, Your body listens to his command. In the quiet darkness, Yoongi watches you and Jungkook, worry bleeding down his back. “Can you show me how to do that Koo? The cramp massage?"

Jungkook laughs, all fond, but lets the nighttime settle.

~-~

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Notes:

i think yoongi and his fears, touches on a little thing that all of us feel at one point or another- that we have no idea what the fuck we're doing with our lives. yoongi is a character to often rails against his own mythos- there is danger in being revered by the people you love. and i think in this moment- yoongi is worrying about living up to those expectations.

i played with the idea of making yoongi spank the m/c for her stunt with the car but honestly- i don't think he would ever willingly engage with physical punishment for her. i don't think he could physically raise a hand against her- i think his trauma would stop him big time.

this is another chapter where it felt like "bily is a story, less of a fanfiction" like this is a process and i'm bringing you all through it. it's less about getting to the end and more about enjoying the ride.

i wish i could accurately articulate the utter love and frustration in namjoon's heart when she's giving him the runaround- my boy is /stressed/ out about her in such a lovely way.

i did not originally intend for her to go so feral but...here we are.

honestly the way i wrote the part with jin nesting with the m/c was so hard to edit, i feel like it does not make a ton of sense what's happening but they're both in omega space so- it's not necessarily supposed to make sense.

the ending scenes where also hard to keep track of like- most of the time I love the way that the series shifts perspective from person to person- and it's one of the things I really think makes my writing unique- but dang even i got confused when i was editing asking myself "whose thinking and feeling this right now?" oh well- it's too late too change too much of it.

honestly when they're all in the nest- i really wanted it to feel like they where almost fucking- like- its so intimate even though no one is actually pleasuring each other it's like...sex without the sex almost.

the lines where the m/c is talking about reproducing...i'm working through some shit is all i'm saying. working through my own wants and figuring out if i even want to have kids, my cousin is really struggling right now and found out that she's infertile and it feels so like- yucky that i can have kids (probably i've never missed a period) but she can't and wants to when i can and don't want too. but also at the same time my family is falling apart at the moment so- i've got a lot of emotions and bily is how i catharsize them!

[mononijikayu]

if the world was ending, i’d wanna be next to you — itadori yuji and ryomen sukuna.

“You’re scared, little one.” Sukuna observes, voice low and taunting. “Quite a face I’ve never seen in a long time.” Your heart pounds, every instinct screaming at you to run, to get away from him. But something roots you in place, the inexplicable connection between the face you loved and the one you now feared, pulling you in two directions at once. “How low you’ve come, little one.” he continues, his voice dripping with amusement. “Really? A green boy like him?” He leans in closer, his presence suffocating. “An insult to your standards, little one.”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: spoilers for jjk chapter 271, not safe for work, angst, fluff, one sided romance, eventual romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, reincarnation, happy ending, hurt, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, afterlife, internal conflict, future, letting go, depiction of moving forward, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of rebirth, depiction of internal conflict, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of character death, depiction of canon related violence, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, depiction of happy end, true form! sukuna, itadori yuji, reincarnated concubine! reader;

WORD COUNT: 11k words

NOTE: this was highly requested, that concubine reader from the other woman has some closure and freedom and happiness in her next life. well, this is it. i feel like after having read chapter 271 completely, i feel like this was also a good sort of closure on sukuna's character. as ive said, i wasn't satisfied much, but i decided to write a path of my own here. and i hope you like it!!! i love you all <3

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kayu's playlist, side 1500;

THE PAST WAS SOMETHING THAT INTRIGUED YOU. You used to wonder if you had a life before this one. The thought lingered like a shadow on quiet nights, gnawing at the edges of your consciousness. You were always curious: Was it a good life? Did you laugh often? Were you loved? And in the end, did you grow old surrounded by warmth, or did your story close abruptly, lost to the currents of time? These questions, though unspoken, echoed through your mind like the turning pages of an unfinished book.

Yet, it’s in moments like this—simple, undemanding, and unexpectedly tender—that those questions fall away. You realize that the answer doesn’t matter as much as you once thought. You and Itadori Yuji, sitting side by side, the air filled with the sound of his laughter, his energy contagious and effortless. It's not always what you do together, but how he has a way of making everything feel lighter, even when life is at its heaviest.

In these instances, where time seems to slow down and the weight of the past dissolves, you’re reminded that perhaps the life before—if it existed at all—was not as important as the one unfolding now. This is where the heart finds its peace. Being with Yuji, you feel that indescribable warmth. It’s the warmth of being cared for, the joy of connection, the quiet happiness of simply being. Moments like this feel like the reward of a life well-lived, even if the past is a mystery.

Maybe in another life, you were loved. Maybe you weren’t. But in this one, as you sit here with Yuji, you feel blessed in a way that transcends time, as if this companionship, this simplicity, is enough to fill whatever came before.

You glance over at Yuji, who’s still laughing, the corners of his eyes crinkled in that way that makes him look so carefree, so utterly at peace. It’s moments like this that make you forget about the world outside.

“You know, Yuji,” you say, leaning back a bit, “sometimes I wonder if I had a life before all of this. Like, did I have a good life? Was I happy? Did I do anything important?” Your voice trails off, unsure if you’re even making sense. It’s one of those thoughts that sounds bigger in your head, harder to explain aloud.

Yuji pauses, the smile still lingering on his lips but his eyes now softening as he looks at you. “I dunno about a past life,” he says, shrugging in that easy, nonchalant way of his, “but I think it doesn’t really matter, right? I mean, what’s important is now, right here. And… if you’re happy now, then that’s enough, isn’t it?”

You look at him, surprised by the simplicity of his words. Yuji always has a way of cutting through complicated feelings with such earnestness, and it hits you every time.

“Yeah, but what if I didn’t get that? What if I didn’t get the chance to be happy then?” you say, not sure why you're pushing the point. Maybe you want to hear more of his optimism, that unwavering belief in the present.

Yuji thinks for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then… maybe that’s why you’re here now. To have those moments. To feel that happiness.” He grins suddenly, almost sheepish. “And hey, if that’s true, then I guess it’s my job to make sure you’re having a good time in this life.”

You smile, something warm settling in your chest. "You think so? That’s your job now?"

“Yep!” Yuji says with a bright nod. “And honestly? I think I’m doing pretty good at it, don’t you?” He nudges you playfully, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Yeah,” you admit, feeling lighter. “Yeah, you’re doing a pretty good job.”

Yuji leans back, satisfied. “See? No need to worry about the past. We’re making good memories right now. And who knows, maybe in the next life, we’ll be laughing about this one.”

You chuckle at the thought, realizing he’s right in a way. The present, with all its little joys, is more than enough. And with Yuji by your side, it feels like it always will be.

Itadori Yuji was your opposite—he was vibrant, bursting with energy, like the sun at its highest peak. Where you were quiet, thoughtful, perhaps a little reserved, Yuji was a whirlwind of light, so bright it was impossible not to be pulled into his orbit. He was the type of person who loved easily, fiercely, without hesitation. In the short time you had known him, it felt like he had illuminated parts of you that you didn’t even realize had been in shadow.

Six months. That’s how long he had been in your life, and in that brief window, Yuji became your biggest friend. He was the kind of friend who made you forget your worries, who could turn a mundane moment into something extraordinary just by being there. 

You weren’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, your feelings for him deepened into something more. You didn’t just care for him, you were falling for him. His smile, his laugh, the way he’d look at you with such unguarded sincerity—it all crept into your heart before you had a chance to stop it.

But then, as suddenly as he had entered your life, he was gone.

You mourned him in the rawest sense, the grief hitting you like a wave, unrelenting and suffocating. You had barely begun to process what he meant to you, and now you were left with nothing but memories. Memories that once brought joy now twisted into something painful, aching. The world felt dimmer without him, like someone had extinguished the light you had grown so accustomed to.

You grieved the moments you never had, the confessions that were never spoken. You grieved the time you lost and the love you never got to fully express. And in the quiet, lonely nights, you found yourself missing even the smallest things—his goofy grin, the way he’d always try to cheer you up, the warmth he carried with him wherever he went.

Itadori Yuji had changed your world in just six months, and now, with him gone, you didn’t know how to go back to how things were before him. Maybe you never would.

And now, you stand face to face with someone else. Someone you didn’t know—someone that terrified you. Ryomen Sukuna. The King of Curses, wearing Yuji’s face but twisted into something cold and malevolent. His presence was overwhelming, a suffocating aura that made your skin crawl, your heart race in dread. The Yuji you had known, the boy you had fallen for, was nowhere to be found in the dark, calculating red eyes that now gazed at you.

But as you meet Sukuna’s gaze, there’s something strange—something unsettling in its familiarity. Amidst the malice, the sadistic smirk, and the chilling sense of power, there’s a flicker of something that shouldn’t be there. Something… almost tender. A subtle glint of fondness that feels utterly out of place in someone like him.

Your breath catches in your throat. It doesn’t make sense. Sukuna should have no reason to look at you this way, no reason to show anything other than contempt or amusement. And yet, there it is—just beneath the surface, a strange warmth, a recognition.

He steps closer, and you instinctively take a step back, fear surging through you like ice in your veins. This wasn’t Yuji. This wasn’t the boy who made you feel safe, who filled your days with laughter and light. This was a monster. A curse. But the way Sukuna’s eyes linger on you, the way his lips curve in a slow, deliberate smirk—there’s something disturbingly familiar in it. A haunting echo of the person you lost.

“You’re scared, little one.” Sukuna observes, voice low and taunting. “Quite a face I’ve never seen in a long time.”

Your heart pounds, every instinct screaming at you to run, to get away from him. But something roots you in place, the inexplicable connection between the face you loved and the one you now feared, pulling you in two directions at once.

“How low you’ve come, little one.” he continues, his voice dripping with amusement. “Really? A green boy like him?” He leans in closer, his presence suffocating. “An insult to your standards, little one.”

You swallow, throat dry, unable to tear your eyes away from his. “You’re not Yuji.” you whisper, the words feeling like a betrayal, even though you know they’re true.

“No.” Sukuna agrees, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. “I’m not. I’d rather not be. But…” His eyes narrow, that strange fondness flashing again, almost as if he’s toying with something deeper. “It’s far better that it is I in front of you.”

Your chest tightens at his words, the weight of them sinking in. It’s impossible, and yet… something in Sukuna’s gaze—something about the way he looks at you—makes you feel like, in some twisted way, you’re still staring into the remnants of Yuji. Or perhaps the remnants of what could have been.

“Stay back!”

“How cruel, little one. When I was your life.” Sukuna says, almost thoughtfully. “You grieved for him. A brat. And yet, here I am, standing right in front of you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

His words feel like a cruel mockery, slicing through your defenses with the precision of a knife. Yet, amid the taunts and the darkness that envelops him, there’s an undercurrent of truth that stings—a painful reminder of everything you’ve lost. You find yourself grappling with an unsettling confusion, a whirlwind of emotions that makes your head spin.

This is a monster, you remind yourself. A malevolent being born of curses and chaos. You do not know him, no matter how he tries to push, no matter how his eyes—those dark, swirling eyes that resemble Yuji’s—seem to reach deep into your soul, searching for something buried within. You’re scared. Scared of the implications, scared of the truth that threatens to unravel everything you thought you understood.

You had wanted Yuji back—longed for him, missed him so much that it hurt. The ache in your heart was a constant companion, an echo of laughter and warmth that once filled your days. You had spent countless nights wishing for a miracle, hoping to see that familiar, infectious smile again. But now, faced with the twisted reality of what stood before you, you weren’t sure if you could handle the price of that wish.

Could this—this—be the cost? A piece of Yuji entangled in a form so horrifying, so devoid of the light he once radiated? The very thought makes you recoil. You want to reject it, to deny that any part of Yuji could reside within Sukuna. But the familiarity in Sukuna’s gaze, the hints of fondness mixed with malice, make it impossible to ignore.

You take a shaky breath, grounding yourself as you try to separate the remnants of your grief from the reality before you. “You’re not him, stop. Stop talking!” you say again, more forcefully this time, but it feels like a hollow declaration. Deep down, you know it’s not enough. The monster in front of you wears Yuji’s face, and it shakes you to your core.

Sukuna steps closer, his presence a dark shadow looming over you, and you can’t help but feel trapped in this moment. You wonder if you should flee, escape the suffocating tension that surrounds you, but something keeps you rooted. It’s as if a part of you is drawn to this interaction, compelled to understand, to confront the tangled web of loss and longing that you’ve been avoiding.

“Tell me, little one.” Sukuna murmurs, his voice low and almost teasing. “What is it you miss about him? The laughter? The heroism? Or is it simply the idea of what he represented—hope?”

His words pierce through the fog of confusion, and you find yourself grappling with the truth of them. What did you miss about Yuji? Was it just the memories of the boy who filled your life with laughter, or was it something deeper—a feeling of safety, a light in the darkness that made everything feel manageable? The longing you felt was so raw, so visceral, but now it felt tainted, complicated by the monstrous form before you.

“I don’t know…..I….” you admit, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “I just know that I wanted him back. I wanted him to stay.” The admission slips out before you can stop it, a soft confession echoing in the heavy silence.

Sukuna watches you closely, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “And yet here I am, standing in his place.” he says, his tone laced with dark amusement. “Perhaps you should reconsider what it is you truly prefer, little one.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with implications you’re not ready to confront. The dread creeps back in, entwined with that lingering curiosity. You realize, with a shiver, that this moment is a threshold—a chance to either run away from the painful truth or face it head-on. You don’t know what it means for you or what it might cost, but deep down, you understand that avoiding Sukuna will not bring Yuji back.

Caught in this whirlwind of emotions, you stand there, heart pounding, feeling the walls close in around you. The weight of grief and longing collides with fear, and you can’t shake the feeling that in this moment, every choice you make could lead to something irrevocable. The haunting question lingers: What if you truly do remember? And what would that mean for both Yuji and the monster that now embodies him?

Sukuna smiles, a slow, dangerous curve of his lips, and somehow, even through the fear, you feel it—the remnants of Yuji still flickering in the dark recesses of this cursed form. And it breaks your heart all over again.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you look into Sukuna’s eyes, those dark, unsettling orbs that seem to mock everything you once knew. But you force the words out anyway, your voice trembling but determined. “I don’t remember you.”

Sukuna snickers, his laughter low and taunting. It sends a chill down your spine, as if he’s amused by some private joke you’re not in on. He leans in slightly, tilting his head, his smirk widening into something more dangerous, more possessive. “Is that what you tell me after all this time, little one?”

The way he says it—so familiar, so intimate—makes your breath catch. It’s like he’s speaking of something only the two of you should know, something hidden beneath the surface of your shared history. But how? You’ve never met Sukuna before. And yet… something in his voice, in the way he calls you little one, stirs something deep inside you. A flicker of something you can’t quite place, something buried.

You take a step back, shaking your head, trying to keep your composure. “I don’t know you. You’re not Yuji, you’re not….” you say again, though this time it sounds more like a plea. A desperate attempt to hold onto the truth, to make sense of the chaos swirling around you.

Sukuna’s grin only deepens. He watches you with a look that’s far too knowing, as if he can see right through your confusion, right through your walls. “Oh, but you do, little one.” he purrs, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “Perhaps you just don’t want to remember.”

Your pulse quickens as his words settle over you, heavy with implications. His gaze feels like it’s piercing through you, dredging up memories you aren’t even sure exist. Could there be something you’re missing? Something you’ve forgotten, or worse—something you’ve buried?

“Look at you, little one. More fragile than what you had been.” Sukuna continues, his voice lowering to something almost dangerous. “Pretending you don’t know. But your eyes betray you. You know me. Maybe not in this life… but somewhere, deep down.” He lifts a hand, lazily gesturing to himself. “You’ve always known me.”

Your chest tightens at the weight of his words, at the way they seem to pull you into something far more complex than you can grasp. You feel torn, the familiar pull of Yuji clashing with the terrifying presence of Sukuna. There’s a part of you that wants to run, to escape whatever this is. But another part of you—the part that feels that flicker of recognition when he speaks, when he looks at you—keeps you frozen in place.

“I don’t…” you start, your voice faltering. “I don’t understand.”

Sukuna laughs again, that low, predatory sound that makes your stomach churn. “Of course you don’t. But you will, in time.” His eyes gleam with something dark and possessive. “I’m not going anywhere, little one. So you’ll have all the time in the world to remember.”

Your hands tremble at your sides, the fear still coursing through you, but now there’s something else. Something far more dangerous than fear—a curiosity, a pull you can’t explain. Even though you know you shouldn’t, you’re drawn to him, to the way his words tug at something deep inside you, something lost.

Sukuna takes another step closer, his presence overwhelming, his gaze never leaving yours. “And when you do remember,” he whispers, his voice dropping into something almost tender, “you’ll realize that it’s not this brat you mourn, little one.”

Your heart skips a beat, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut. You want to deny it, to push him away, to convince yourself that the darkness in Sukuna’s eyes holds no truth. But you can’t shake the unsettling feeling that maybe, just maybe, there’s a twisted truth in what he’s saying—something buried so deep inside you that it makes your skin prickle. And that terrifies you more than anything else at this moment.

“You have better memory than that.” His voice is smooth, a honeyed drawl that curls around you, laced with a sinister undertone. He steps closer, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body, a heat that’s both inviting and suffocating. His breath brushes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself caught in his gaze—those scarlet eyes gleaming with an intensity that both captivates and horrifies you.

“Try to remember me.” he continues, the words dripping with a twisted sense of familiarity, a beckoning that both draws you in and repels you. There’s an almost playful cruelty in his tone, as if he knows the power he holds over you in this moment—knows that your heart is already torn, straddling the line between longing and fear.

You swallow hard, your throat dry as you grapple with the conflicting emotions swirling within you. The essence of Yuji—the boy who brought light and laughter into your life—now feels irreversibly entwined with the dark curse standing before you. 

The memory of his warmth, his laughter, and his unwavering kindness feels like a distant dream, overshadowed by the reality of Sukuna’s presence. And yet, the way Sukuna looks at you, the way he carries himself, evokes echoes of the boy you loved. It’s confusing, maddening, and all-consuming.

“Don’t you want to know what’s buried inside you?” he taunts softly, leaning in even closer, as if sharing a secret only you can hear. “What really lies behind that grief? The truth of your feelings? Your past?”

You shudder at his words, feeling as though he’s reaching into the deepest corners of your mind, teasing out thoughts you’re not ready to confront. The idea of facing whatever remnants of Yuji’s essence are hidden within this creature, this manifestation of all your fears and sorrows, makes you want to flee. But the truth is, you’re caught in a web of curiosity and dread, tethered to the boy who once filled your heart.

“Stop it.” you whisper, your voice shaking. “You’re not him. You’re not Yuji.”

Sukuna chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates in the stillness around you. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I wear this brat’s face, little one. And I am here —whether you want to accept it or not.” His scarlet eyes bore into yours, a challenge lingering in the air. “And whether you like it or not, he’s a part of me too.”

The weight of his words settles heavily in your chest, a visceral truth that makes you want to scream. How could he say that? How could he twist the memory of Yuji into something so dark and cruel? But as you stand there, heart racing, you realize that he’s right in a way you’re terrified to explore. The grief you feel is a testament to the love you once shared, and now that love has taken on a new, twisted form.

As Sukuna’s presence looms over you, you feel the tension of this moment wrapping around you like a shroud. The air is thick with uncertainty, and you’re caught in a battle between wanting to retreat into safety and an insatiable desire to confront the truth lurking just beyond your grasp.

“Good night, little one.” he repeats, the command soothing and commanding all at once. “And when you wake, perhaps you’ll see things more clearly. I promise you, it will be… enlightening.”

With those final words, he steps back, allowing you to breathe again, but the weight of his gaze lingers. As he fades into the shadows, you’re left standing there, your heart pounding in your chest. The fear that grips you is palpable, but beneath it lies a flicker of curiosity—a yearning to understand what lies hidden within, to uncover the truths that connect you to both Yuji and Sukuna.

You know you should feel safe in your denial, but as you process everything, you realize that the only way forward is to confront this new reality. Whatever it takes, you have to know what Sukuna means, what truth lies within you, and what it might reveal about the love you lost and the monster that now stands in his place.

A THOUSAND YEARS HAD PASSED AND YET, HE THINKS A LOT ABOUT THAT LAST WISH. It was Ryomen Sukuna’s hope that you would not be reborn like this. After the years of misery he had put upon you, such loneliness and bitterness — this is not what you deserve. In the depths of his cursed heart, he had wished for you to have a better life—a life filled with warmth and love, a life free from the shadows that clung to him. 

He had imagined a future where you would thrive, where your laughter would echo in the halls of a home filled with joy and not tied to the darkness he embodied. He wanted for your hope to come true, for you to carve out your own path, one that didn’t intertwine with his own cursed existence. So that you may be free from the cage of him, and fly away.

Yet, here you were, standing in the remnants of a life he had never wished for you. A life as a sorcerer, a role steeped in danger and darkness, where you faced the very curses he had once commanded. And most of all, you found yourself in adoration of his vessel, Itadori Yuji—the very embodiment of what Sukuna had wanted to keep separate from you.

Every day was a constant reminder of that bittersweet reality. You had grown to love the brat, the boy whose spirit shone brighter than anyone else’s, whose laughter brought light to the darkest corners of your heart. He had an infectious enthusiasm that made the world seem a little less heavy, a little less daunting. And now that he was alive, Ryomen Sukuna could only watch as you found the joy that he could not give you.

“Hey! Are you coming or what?” Yuji called out, his voice cutting through your thoughts. He stood a few paces ahead, hands on his hips, a bright smile lighting up his face. “I thought we were going to train today!”

You couldn’t help but smile back at him, your heart swelling at the sight of his excitement. “Yeah, I’m coming!” You jogged to catch up with him, the momentary rush of adrenaline distracting you from the weight of your thoughts.

As you fell into step beside him, you felt the warmth of his presence, the way he made the air around you feel lighter. “You really are too slow sometimes, you know?” he teased, nudging you playfully. “I mean, I know I’m faster, but you’ve gotta at least try to keep up!”

“Please!” you laughed, shaking your head. “You’ve been training longer than I have. I’m just trying not to trip over my own feet!” The banter flowed easily between you, but even in this moment of lightness, you couldn’t shake the nagging sense of Sukuna’s presence lurking just beneath the surface, a shadow that never quite left you.

“Speaking of tripping, you’re not going to freak out again when I show you that new move, are you?” Yuji’s expression turned mock-serious, eyebrows raised. “Because last time, I swear I thought you were going to lose your lunch!”

“Okay, that was one time! I told you I wasn’t ready for a backflip!” you protested, recalling the embarrassment of that training session where you’d ended up flat on your back. “Besides, you can’t just expect me to be a natural like you!”

Yuji laughed, the sound bubbling up from his chest and enveloping you like a warm embrace. “Hey, you’ve got potential! I mean, you did get back up after I knocked you down. That counts for something, right?”

His encouragement filled you with a warmth that momentarily pushed aside the darkness threatening to creep in. He was everything Sukuna had hoped you would find—kind, brave, and full of life. Itadori Yuji’s laughter echoed in your mind, a stark contrast to the chilling presence of the curse that loomed behind you, hidden yet always felt, a constant reminder of the complexities entangled in your heart.

Yet, in the depths of Sukuna’s being, a flicker of something unexpected stirred—a faint, bitter jealousy. He had often wondered if he had ever truly felt envy regarding the affection you held for that brat, as he so often referred to Yuji in his darker moments. A part of him questioned whether he was conscious of the pain he had caused you, the heartache that clung to your spirit like a shadow.

“Do you even understand what you’ve done to her?” he mused silently, as if you could hear him echoing in your mind.

There was an awareness in him, a recognition that you had somehow managed to love all of him, even the twisted, cursed side of his existence. Perhaps that was what stung the most—knowing that you had opened your heart to him and, in doing so, had become entwined in a relationship that was more chaotic than he had ever intended.

But even amid that jealousy, he had no regrets about his feelings for you. His love for Hiromi—the one who had filled his heart with warmth before darkness overtook him—remained unwavering.

That love had been pure and innocent, a light that could never be dimmed by the shadows he had embraced. He could not deny it, nor would he wish to. Yet now, watching from the sidelines, he felt an ache in his chest, a realization that he could never be the one to bring you that same joy.

In the quiet corners of his mind, he harbored a secret wish—a hope that he could have made you smile like this. So vibrantly, so free of grief. A happiness so clear that one could see it gleam in your eyes, untainted by the complexities of his existence. The laughter you shared with Yuji resonated in a way that he could only dream of, a melody of innocence that felt forever out of his reach.

“What would it take?” he pondered, the thought lingering like a ghost. Would he ever be able to evoke such joy? Or was he forever condemned to dwell in the shadows of what he could never be?

Sukuna’s thoughts spiraled, twisting through memories of moments shared with you—soft smiles, fleeting touches, and the warmth of your laughter that once danced around him like sunlight. The contrast was stark; he had only ever known how to wield darkness, to embrace fear and chaos, while Yuji seemed to thrive in the light. The way you looked at Yuji, filled with admiration and affection, was a dagger in his chest, a poignant reminder of the connection he could never replicate.

Yet, in that moment of reflection, a different feeling began to take root—a deep, abiding wish for your happiness. Perhaps the greatest act of love he could offer you now was to allow you to chase that joy, even if it meant stepping aside, relinquishing his hold on your heart. You deserve every ounce of happiness, unencumbered by his darkness.

As you stood there, laughing freely, the shadows that had haunted him felt a little less suffocating. He knew he could not change who he was, nor could he rewrite the past, but perhaps he could shift his focus from his own pain to the happiness that blossomed in front of him. He wanted to see you flourish, to break free from the chains of sorrow he had inadvertently wrapped around you.

“Thanks, Yuji. I really appreciate that.” you said, your voice softer, the sincerity in your tone catching his attention. Your face flustered and shy. It was a face Sukuna had never seen from you.

“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. We’re friends, right?” His eyes sparkled with genuine warmth, but beneath that, you could feel a hint of concern lurking. “You know, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me. We’re a team.”

You paused for a moment, the gravity of his words settling over you. Sukuna knew that you wanted to share your fears—he could see it in the way your lips parted but never released a sound, in the slight tremble of your hands as they hovered between reaching out and retreating. It was written all over your face, the tension in your furrowed brow, the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. Sukuna knew you too well, after all the years you'd lived together. He understood every unspoken word, every hesitation, even when you couldn’t bring yourself to voice your thoughts.

But this time, things were different. You didn’t remember any of it—not the life he had spoken of, not the shared moments he swore existed. The memories he claimed you both cherished were nothing but a void to you, a distant fog where nothing came into focus. Sukuna knew that too. He wasn’t oblivious to the confusion in your expression whenever he spoke of the past you shared. You couldn’t recall the way your lives had intertwined so deeply, and that lack of recollection gnawed at you just as much as it pained him.

And yet, despite your lack of memory, despite the blank slate that your mind had become, Sukuna still knew you. He could sense the turmoil bubbling within you, the words that remained trapped in your throat.

They were right there, on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be released, but fear held you back. What if speaking those fears out loud made them real? What if your confusion, your lack of memories, created a rift between you that couldn’t be mended?

Sukuna’s gaze never wavered from you. His usual harshness softened, if only slightly, as if silently urging you to speak. He understood that what you were facing was beyond your control, but he wanted you to know that he was still there, that he would wait. No matter how long it took for you to find your voice, to trust him again—even if the memories never returned—Sukuna wasn’t going anywhere.

“I… I’m fine, Yu.” you finally replied, forcing a smile. “Just a lot on my mind, you know? Training always helps clear it up.”

“Alright, but I’ll be here if you need me,” he said, his tone earnest, making your heart ache at the kindness in his eyes. “We’ll figure it out together, I promise.”

As you walked alongside him, the weight of Sukuna’s presence felt more like a lingering shadow, a reminder of your complicated reality. That was very much obvious to him. The joy you found in the brat’s company was intoxicating, but it was intertwined with the fear of what Sukuna represented—a darkness that loomed over everything you cherished.

But in that moment, as the brat’s laughter filled the air, you resolved to focus on what you could control. You would embrace the light he brought into your life, even if it meant wrestling with the shadows of the past. For now, you would fight alongside him, a sorcerer in your own right, finding strength in your love for him and the hope that one day, the shadows would fade into something less consuming.

“Okay, enough talking! Let’s go!” Yuji said, breaking you from your thoughts as he took off, racing ahead. You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound spilling out of you, bright and free, as you chased after him, if only for a moment forgetting the weight of the curse that loomed over your life.

You had become a sorcerer not merely to fight curses, but to protect what you had come to cherish. It was a decision that had grown within you over time, shaped by your encounters and the people you had come to love. You weren’t driven by blind heroism or reckless ambition. 

No, it was about preserving the bonds that had become precious to you, about standing your ground in a world where curses threatened the very fabric of those connections. But this choice—this path—you had taken wasn’t what Sukuna had ever wanted for you.

Sukuna never believed in foolish ideals like heroism or self-sacrifice. To him, they were weaknesses, things that would only lead you into harm's way. And that was what unsettled him most. He hadn’t fought for you, protected you, only to see you willingly step into danger for others. In your past life, things were different. 

He had kept you safe, shielded you from the horrors that roamed the world. Under his watch, you didn't need to lift a finger. You were his to protect, a treasure he wouldn’t allow the world to tarnish.

But now, things had changed, and not in ways he could easily control. A part of him resented the world you had been pulled into—a world filled with curses, death, and peril. He especially resented the boy. Itadori Yuji. 

Ryomen Sukuna had watched it happen—watched as Itadori had unknowingly nudged you towards the life of a sorcerer. It wasn’t malicious on Yuji’s part. The boy had only meant to encourage you, to bring out a strength he saw in you. But to Sukuna, that encouragement was nothing more than an invitation to danger. Yuji had no idea what he'd set in motion. And Sukuna couldn’t forgive him for that.

In your past life, Sukuna had made sure you were safe. There had been no need for you to risk yourself in battle or face the horrors of the world head-on. He had taken care of everything. You didn’t need to be strong; you didn’t need to fight. That was his role—to crush anyone who threatened you, to be the shield that protected you from harm. It was his way of keeping you close, of ensuring you never had to suffer.

But now, standing in this new life, all he could do was wonder—how could this brat, this boy, possibly take care of you? How could he, with his limited power and naive ideals, protect you the way Sukuna once had? It infuriated Sukuna to think that Yuji believed he could guide you in this treacherous world, when in reality, he was the one who had exposed you to its dangers in the first place.

Ryomen Sukuna clenched his fists, his thoughts simmering with frustration. You had been safe before, with him. But now, he feared that this world of curses you had chosen—this world where you now stood alongside Yuji and the others—would one day rip you away from him. And Sukuna wasn't sure he could bear that.

Sukuna felt a twisted sense of validation in the aftermath of Shibuya. It had been him—not Yuji, not any of your so-called allies—who had saved your life when everything went to hell. The moment the curses descended, the city had become a chaotic battlefield, one where even the strongest sorcerers struggled to hold their ground. But not him. Not Sukuna.

He had watched it unfold, his sharp gaze tracking the danger closing in on you, and in that split second, everything he had warned against crystallized. The fragility of your humanity, the danger you had willingly embraced—it all came to a head.

You had faced curses far beyond what you should have been dealing with. It was the recklessness, the vulnerability, the need to prove yourself as a sorcerer that had led you to the brink of death. And for what? To protect others? To fight alongside those who weren’t worthy of your devotion?

In that critical moment, when you had been on the verge of being overwhelmed, it wasn’t Yuji or any of the other sorcerers who had come to your aid. It was Sukuna. His power had surged through the chaos, his strength unmatched, obliterating the curse that had dared to lay its hand on you.

He had kept you from being crushed, from the fate that would have surely claimed you had he not intervened. The irony wasn’t lost on him—that in the midst of this world you had chosen, it was still his power that protected you, not the one you had turned to.

Sukuna could almost laugh at how right he had been. Your decision to become a sorcerer, your reliance on others to protect you—it had all crumbled in the face of reality.

In your past life, you had never needed to face this kind of danger, because he had kept you safe. It had been him who ensured your safety, him who made sure the world’s darkness never touched you. And now, in this life, despite everything that had changed, the outcome was still the same: you needed him to survive.

He hated to admit it, but a part of him reveled in the fact that you couldn’t escape his grasp. The boy, Yuji, had tried—tried to pull you into a world where you could stand on your own, where you didn’t need to rely on Ryomen Sukuna’s power.

But Shibuya had proven otherwise. The truth was undeniable: there was no escaping the fact that Sukuna was, and always would be, the one who kept you alive.

His crimson eyes lingered on you as you lay unconscious, the aftermath of the battle leaving you battered and bruised. He crouched beside you, his expression unreadable. 

There was no warmth in his gaze, no affection—only a sense of possession. A sense of knowing that you were a part of him. Whether in this life or the last, it didn’t matter. The world could change, your memories could fade, but the fact remained: Sukuna had saved you, and he always would. No one else could protect you the way he could, and in the end, he was the only one who truly understood that.

"You see now, don’t you, little one?" he murmured, his voice low, almost to himself. "No matter how far you run, no matter what life you choose, you’ll always come back to this. To me."

There was a finality in his words, a certainty that rang through the empty streets of Shibuya. In his eyes, this moment only reinforced the bond between you, one forged not out of love, but out of necessity, out of survival. And though you may never remember the life you once shared, Sukuna knew that as long as you walked this path, you would always need him.

And then, in the stillness after the battle, Sukuna froze.

A pulse of cursed energy rippled through the air, faint but unmistakable. It was old, ancient even, yet familiar in a way that twisted something deep inside him. For the first time in a thousand years, Sukuna felt her presence. Hiromi.

Sukuna's mind recoiled from the realization, the pulse of cursed energy stirring something long-buried within him. The sensation clawed at him—ancient, familiar, undeniable.

Hiromi.

His heart, or what remained of it, twisted with an emotion he hadn't felt in centuries. He had thought it impossible.

But there it was, a presence like a faint echo that had finally resurfaced after a thousand years. His eyes narrowed, scanning the distance as if he could pinpoint the exact location of the cursed energy.

Without hesitation, his body moved on instinct, the need to chase after that familiar presence overwhelming him. He didn’t even spare a glance back at you. The urgency consumed him. You’ll be fine, he thought to himself. You were unconscious, battered but alive—safe, for now.

“Uraume.” His voice was cold and commanding, cutting through the still air. Almost immediately, Uraume appeared at his side, their faces calm and collected, as if they anticipated his order even before he had spoken it.

“Sukuna-sama.” Uraume bowed slightly, eyes flicking toward your limp form lying on the ground.

“Take care of them for me.” Sukuna instructed, his tone flat, devoid of emotion. It was an order, not a request. His eyes were already fixed on the horizon, his mind far from the present moment.

Uraume nodded without question. “Understood.”

With that, Sukuna turned his back on you, his form disappearing into the distance with terrifying speed. You were unconscious, vulnerable, but he left you without hesitation. Because even now, after everything, it wasn’t you that occupied his thoughts. Not fully. Not entirely.

As the wind whipped past him, his mind raced, trying to process the flood of emotions that came with sensing Hiromi’s energy after so long. It felt like an eternity since he had last known that presence—familiar yet distant, like a memory from another life. He clenched his fists, the anticipation mounting as he closed in on the source of the cursed energy.

But beneath the rush of adrenaline, Sukuna felt something else, something darker—guilt. It was fleeting, barely noticeable, but it was there, nagging at the edges of his mind. He knew he was a hypocrite.

He had kept you by his side, held you close, and claimed you as part of his world. You had become entangled in his existence, and yet, despite everything, despite the way he protected you, he could never love you. Not in the way you might have wanted. Not in the way that mattered.

Because love had always been reserved for someone else.

Hiromi.

The name echoed in his mind, sharp and clear. Hiromi had been everything to him in a way that transcended time. Even after a thousand years, Sukuna could feel it—that deep, consuming affection that had once tied him to Hiromi like a chain. He didn’t need to question it, didn’t need to doubt. Hiromi was the one he loved, the one he would always love. That had never changed.

And yet, as he chased after the familiar energy, a dark, bitter thought rose in his mind. He had kept you close for so long, but not out of love. It had been care, yes, concern even—but not love. You were valuable to him, a piece of his life that he refused to let the world destroy. But love? No, that was something you would never receive from him. That part of his heart had been taken long ago.

He didn’t regret it. Not for a second.

As he raced toward the source of Hiromi’s energy, Sukuna's lips curled into a slight, dangerous smile.

“Hiromi…” he whispered under his breath, a mixture of longing and hunger in his voice. “After all these years, you still haunt me.”

The urgency in his steps betrayed his growing anticipation, but beneath that, another feeling simmered. A strange unease. Sukuna knew what this meant—what it would mean for him, for you, for everything. He was a hypocrite, and he knew it all too well. 

He had spent lifetimes keeping you close, ensuring your safety, binding you to him with his strength. He claimed you as his, possessed you in a way that transcended time and memory. He protected you, watched over you, but love? No, love had never been part of the equation.

Sukuna was no fool. He cared for you, yes. There was a connection, a bond that had grown stronger over time. But it wasn’t love, not in the way most would understand. He knew that. It had always been about control, about ensuring that you remained part of his world, tethered to him by the invisible threads of fate. 

You had chosen a path filled with danger, and he had allowed it, begrudgingly, because he didn’t want to lose you. But he did not love you. Not in the way that mattered. Not in the way that consumed him.

That kind of love was reserved for someone else. Hiromi.

The name reverberated in his mind like an old song, the memory of a time long past. Hiromi had been the one he loved, truly loved. The one who had held his heart, back when he had one. The connection between them was something deeper, something far more potent than what he had with you. It was raw and ancient, a passion that transcended lifetimes. 

Ryomen Hiromi had been his equal, the one who had understood him in ways no one else ever could. And now, after centuries, Hiromi’s cursed energy was stirring again, calling out to him across time.

Sukuna felt the sharp contrast between what he had with you and what he had once shared with Hiromi. You were his, yes—but in a way that was almost pragmatic, transactional. He cared for you, protected you because you were his responsibility, someone he would never let the world destroy. But it wasn’t the kind of love that set his soul ablaze. Not like Hiromi had.

And that truth didn’t bother him. He didn’t regret it. He didn’t regret holding you close while reserving his deepest, truest love for Hiromi. That was how it was meant to be. You and Hiromi occupied different places in his life, and that was something he had long accepted.

As he sped through the streets of Shibuya, his mind was a storm of thoughts. He knew he was leaving you behind, abandoning you without a second thought to chase the echo of someone he had lost long ago. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself. The pull was too strong, the memory of Hiromi too powerful to resist. You were safe. That’s all that mattered.

But Hiromi… Hiromi was everything.

Sukuna knew, with absolute certainty, that no matter what he had with you, it would never compare to what he had with Hiromi. And he didn’t need it to. He didn’t want it to. He had spent a thousand years in the shadow of that love, and now, with Hiromi’s cursed energy suddenly awakening, all he could think about was reclaiming what had been his—what had always been his.

As Sukuna moved through the city, his chest tightened with anticipation. He was a hypocrite, yes, but he had no regrets. He would protect you, care for you, but the fire that burned within him was for Hiromi alone. You were never meant to hold his heart—not the way Hiromi did. And for that, Sukuna was unapologetic.

This was who he was. This was who he had always been.

Meanwhile, Uraume knelt beside your unconscious form, their expression unreadable as they gently lifted you into their arms. They glanced in the direction Sukuna had disappeared, their lips tightening slightly.

"Always leaving." Uraume muttered quietly, more to themselves than to you. They knew better than anyone what Sukuna was chasing, and why he hadn’t hesitated to leave. "It’s never enough, is it?"

They looked down at you, a strange softness entering their gaze.

"You’re fortunate he cares for you as much as he does." Uraume added quietly, though the words felt hollow. Because they knew, just as you might someday come to realize—Sukuna’s heart belonged to someone else, someone from long ago.

And no one would ever replace that.

HE HAD NOT REMEMBERED WHAT HE THOUGHT THE FIRST TIME HE DIED. But this time around, he did. As Ryomen Sukuna lay on the ground, his once-imposing form crumbling, the weight of his own mortality pressing down on him for the first time in centuries, he felt something stir in the space around him. A soft, familiar presence, like a breeze carrying the scent of a life long forgotten. It was not a presence he had ever felt in a long time. 

He opened his eyes, and there you were. Your past self, standing before him as though summoned by the final moments of his life. You were just as he remembered, yet different—there was a lightness in your eyes, a peace he hadn’t seen in so long. And as you approached, there was no anger, no bitterness, no pain. You smiled at him. A gentle, almost wistful smile, as though all the years of cruelty, all the darkness that had passed between you, had never existed.

“Sukuna–sama.” you greeted softly, your voice carrying an odd tenderness, as though you were greeting an old friend.

He stared at you, confused, his chest tight with an unfamiliar emotion. The weight of his sins, the centuries of violence, grief, pain and manipulation—all of it should have driven you away. And yet here you were, standing before him, smiling as if nothing had ever been wrong. As if he had never hurt you. As if you hadn’t hated him for it.

“You’re really here….little one.” Sukuna rasped, his voice rough, but there was a vulnerability in it he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a thousand years. “After everything...you’re still here?”

You nodded, kneeling down beside him, your gaze soft but resolute. “I’m here, Sukuna–sama. But we both know this is the end, don’t we?”

He grunted, dark scarlet eyes flickering with both amusement and bitterness. “So it seems.” He paused, the weight of what was to come settling in. “And now what? What happens next? You’ve come to watch me die, little one?

You shook your head gently, your expression unchanged. “No. I came to say goodbye.”

A silence stretched between you both, heavy and profound. Ryomen Sukuna’s breath grew more labored, the energy draining from him faster now. His dark eyes never left yours, trying to read you, to understand what this moment meant. You were supposed to go wherever he was, you would follow. Words were wind and yet, your actions — they said other things. 

“Goodbye, huh?” he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And what am I supposed to do with that? After everything…after all these years, little one?”

You hesitated, looking down at your hands before meeting his gaze once more. “I need you to let me go, Sukuna–sama.”

Sukuna’s eyes darkened. “Let you go? I’ve kept you for a reason, little one. You’ve been mine for longer than either of us can remember.”

You exhaled softly, shaking your head. “Not anymore. Not this time.I can’t love you like this, Sukuna–sama. Not like I did before. That love—it’s gone.”

His jaw tightened, a spark of anger flashing in his eyes. “And why is that? Because of him? Because of that brat?”

He didn’t need to say the name. You both knew who he meant.

You didn’t flinch. “Yes. I love Yuji now. I had…I had been reborn now, Sukuna–sama. He’s who I’ve chosen. He’s who I am in this life. And I want to be happy, Sukuna–sama. Truly happy.”

Sukuna scoffed, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “Happy, huh? That’s what you want?”

You nodded, your voice soft but firm. “You always said you wanted that for me, didn’t you? You kept me close because you said you wanted me safe. But I don’t want to live like this anymore. I don’t want to be bound to something that doesn’t exist—something that’s only pain and emptiness.”

Sukuna was silent for a long moment, his breath shallow, his eyes narrowing as he stared up at the sky. “So that’s it then? After everything, you’re just going to walk away?” His voice was laced with bitterness, but beneath it, there was something else—a resignation, an understanding that this was inevitable.

You reached out, gently taking his hand. The gesture surprised him, and for the first time in a long time, Sukuna didn’t pull away.

“I want to let you go, Sukuna–sama.” you said softly. “But I need you to let me go too. So we can both be free.”

His eyes flickered with something unspoken, a quiet turmoil that even he didn’t fully understand. For so long, he had kept you tethered to him, not out of love but possession, out of the need to control, to keep you as part of his world. And now, here you were, asking him to release you from the very chains he had forged. Asking to be separated from you, forever.

“You think it’s that easy?” Sukuna whispered, his voice hoarse. “After everything we’ve been through, after all the years…”

“No, no.” you replied gently, a small ghostly smile on your face. “It's not easy. I know that much. But it’s what needs to happen. We’ve both held on for too long. You and I—we’re not meant to be like this anymore.”

Ryomen Sukuna’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, he saw something he had long since forgotten. The softness, the kindness in your gaze—the person you had once been before all of this. And he knew, deep down, that you were right.

He had kept you close out of fear. Fear of losing the one thing in his life that had ever mattered, the one of the very few people who had ever made him feel something beyond the void of his existence. But you were no longer his, and he was no longer yours. It was never meant to be. He knew that from the beginning.

With a deep, labored breath, Sukuna closed his eyes, his grip on your hand loosening. “Fine, little one.” he rasped. “Go. Be with him. Be happy. It’s what you want, right?”

A tear slipped down your cheek as you smiled at him, the sadness in your eyes mixed with a profound sense of peace. “Thank you, Sukuna–sama.”

For a moment, you both sat in silence, the weight of all those years of history between you. And then, quietly, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. He lets the warmth echo through his flesh. He didn’t want you to let go, he didn’t want you to leave him. And yet, he had to let you go. 

“Goodbye, Sukuna–sama.” you whispered. “Be free. Choose your path too.”

With that, you stood up, turning away from the man who had once held your heart, leaving him to the twilight of his life. You didn’t look back as you walked away, knowing that this was the end of one chapter, and the beginning of another. You will never find each other again.

Ryomen Sukuna watched you go, his vision fading, a strange mix of regret and relief flooding through him. He had let you go, and in doing so, perhaps, for the first time in his long, twisted life, he had let himself go too.

IT WAS ODD, THIS PLACE. And it was where all souls go. At least that’s what his father used to say to him. Sukuna had not believed it then. But here is the proof. Here is the truth. The path of souls stretched endlessly before him, an ethereal twilight where time held no meaning and silence enveloped the realm. 

Ryomen Sukuna’s hand held firmly to Uraume’s own, though Uraume’s presence beside him was faint, as if they too were fading into the beyond. Uraume, after all, was too young to understand it all yet.

And he didn’t want to distress them. His crimson eyes scanned the surreal landscape, not for the first time wondering what came next. Death had always been an abstract concept for someone like him—feared by others, but never himself. Yet here he was, on this path, somewhere between existence and oblivion.

He felt a pull, a presence just ahead, and as they walked, familiar figures began to emerge in the mist. Among them, Mahito lounges carelessly, his usual playful smile twisted with curiosity as he looks over at Sukuna.

“Well, well,” Mahito said with a chuckle, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Sukuna?”

Sukuna glanced at Mahito, but his eyes were drawn past him, pulled to a figure he hadn’t expected to see again in this realm. Hiromi.

Hiromi stood a few paces away, her form illuminated by the soft glow of the path. Her presence was calm, unwavering, as though the centuries of separation between them had not dulled the bond that once existed. She smiled at him—a small, knowing smile, one that held both understanding and a quiet challenge.

"It’s been a long time." you said, your voice cutting through the haze of memories that clouded his mind. You had appeared beside Mahito, your eyes softer now than when you last spoke to Sukuna.

It had been a lifetime ago—literally. But here, in the land between worlds, there was no more need for pretense. It had been so long since you both had been truly honest with one another.

Sukuna’s expression softened slightly, though his sharp edges remained. He wasn’t one for sentimentality, and yet, standing here, he felt something stir within him. He inclined his head to you, acknowledging your presence, but his gaze drifted back to Hiromi.

“Hiromi.” he said with a quiet intensity, his voice lower than usual, almost…reverent. Uraume, sensing the moment, quietly stepped back, releasing his hand.

Hiromi stepped forward, her dark eyes locked onto Sukuna’s. She looked just as she had the last time he had seen her, centuries ago. The weight of their shared past hung in the air between them, unspoken but ever-present.

“It’s been too long….Sukuna.” Hiromi said softly, her voice carrying a quiet warmth. She looked at him with that same measured calm, though there was something in her eyes, something that had been left unsaid for far too long.

Sukuna remained silent for a moment, taking in the sight of her. He had never been a man to reflect on his emotions, to consider the consequences of his actions beyond immediate gratification or power. But here, now, on the path of souls, stripped of the pretenses of life, there was a clarity he couldn’t ignore.

“What path will you walk, Sukuna?” Hiromi asked, her voice steady but soft, as though she already knew the answer.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Sukuna smiled—a small, almost imperceptible curve of his lips. It wasn’t the predatory grin he was known for, but something quieter, something…honest.

“A path with you.” he answered, his voice carrying the weight of every century that had passed. There was no hesitation in his words, no mask to hide behind. Here, in this liminal space, he could admit what had always been true. “Even if there will be nothing between us.”

Hiromi’s smile deepened, though her eyes were tinged with something bittersweet. “Even if there’s nothing?”

Sukuna held her gaze, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I was bound to you the moment I met you. You know that too well, don’t you?”

His words were simple, but they carried the weight of a lifetime—perhaps several lifetimes—of unspoken truths. He had never been one to voice such sentiments, not in life, not when there was always another battle, another conquest, another way to assert his dominance over the world. But here, stripped of all that power, all that ambition, there was only the truth.

Hiromi’s eyes softened, and she reached out, her hand brushing lightly against his. The touch was fleeting, but it was enough. She didn’t need to say anything; the silence between them spoke volumes.

Mahito chuckled softly behind them, amused by the display but wise enough not to interrupt. “So, Sukuna…..” he teased back. “Even a human curse has your attachments, huh?”

Sukuna shot him a glare, but there was no real malice in it. “And what of it?” he muttered, though his usual venom was absent.

Hiromi gave a small laugh, shaking her head at Mahito before returning her attention to Sukuna. “It’s not attachments that hold you down.” she said softly, her eyes reflecting the soft glow of the path around them. “It’s what you choose to carry.”

“And what are you carrying?” Sukuna asked, his voice quieter now, the question more personal than he’d intended.

Hiromi’s eyes held his, the connection between them clear and unbreakable, even in this world of shadows and souls. “Only what I choose. And now, I choose peace.”

She let her hand fall from his, the warmth of the touch lingering between them. The path stretched out before them, infinite and unknown, but somehow, less daunting with her beside him. It was just like back then. When they were together. Happy. At peace.

Sukuna nodded, a rare understanding passing between them. He had been many things in his life—cruel, selfish, a god of calamity—but here, now, there was only one thing that mattered.

“I’ll walk with you then.” he said, his voice firm. He looks at Uraume. “Both of us will.”

Hiromi smiled, the kind of smile that held centuries of history, of pain, of love, and of letting go. “Then let’s walk together.” she said simply.

And for the first time in a thousand years, Ryomen Sukuna felt something other than hunger, other than rage. He felt…whole.

epilogue 

You and Yuji were crouched behind a row of bushes, peeking over the top like kids playing hide and seek. Except, instead of hiding from a grumpy neighbor, you were hiding from a low-grade curse that looked like a giant, angry turnip.

"Okay, so what’s the plan?" Yuji whispered, his face way too serious for someone talking about vegetable-based curses.

"I was thinking... you distract it, and I’ll sneak around and exorcise it fully." you replied, glancing at the turnip monster, which seemed to be getting more agitated by the second.

"Alright, alright. I got it." Yuji said with a determined nod. Then, after a beat of silence, he looked back at you, his usual playful grin sneaking onto his face. "You know, we make a pretty good team….They were right to assign us together for missions, hm?”

You chuckled softly, feeling your heart skip a beat despite the fact that this was the least romantic setting possible. "We do, don't we? Not many people can take on turnip monsters with such finesse."

Yuji grinned, then cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey, uh, while we’re on the topic of being a good team, there's... there's something I’ve been wanting to say."

Your eyes widened a little, curiosity and nervousness stirring in your chest. "What is it?"

"Well, it's just... I like being around you. Genuinely…..It’s….I just….I like…I like spending time with you." Yuji said, rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks turning a little pink. "Like, a lot. More than just the 'let's-fight-curses-together' way."

Your heart started racing, and you could feel your face getting warm. "I... I feel the same way." you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady even though your insides were doing cartwheels. "I’ve liked you for a while, actually."

Yuji blinked in surprise, then broke into the brightest, most ridiculous smile you’d ever seen. "Wait, really? Do you like me? Like, like me?"

You nodded, biting back a grin. "Yeah, I like you. A lot."

For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, grinning like idiots, the turnip curse temporarily forgotten. Laughter echoes from Yuji and then you, and all at once, there was some harmony. The peace that you both had been craving to have. The joy that comes with being together.

"Man, I should’ve told you sooner!" Yuji said, looking like he was about to burst with happiness. "We could’ve been doing all this curse-fighting and dating at the same time!"

You laughed, your nerves fading as the warmth of the moment settled over you. "Better late than never, right?"

Yuji nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! And now that we’ve got that out of the way, I say we finish off this turnip monster and then—"

Suddenly, the turnip curse let out a loud, disgruntled roar, reminding you both that, yes, you were still on a mission.

"Right, curse first, dating later," Yuji said quickly, scrambling to his feet. "Let’s do this!"

In a blur of movement, Yuji launched himself at the turnip, giving you the perfect opening to come around the side. With a swift, precise strike, you exorcised the curse, watching it dissolve into nothing.

Yuji jogged back over to you, grinning. "See? Told you we’re a good team."

You smiled back, feeling a rush of affection for him. "Yeah, we are. And from now on, we’ll be a good team together—on missions and in life."

Yuji’s smile softened, his brown eyes locking with yours in a way that made your heart flutter. "I like the sound of that," he said, his voice a little quieter but full of warmth.

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Come what may, right?"

"Right." Yuji agreed, squeezing your hand gently. "No matter what happens, I want to be by your side. Happy. Together."

And with that, the two of you stood there, hand in hand, as the remnants of the curse faded into the wind, feeling lighter than ever—ready to face whatever came next, as long as it was together.

[jaylalolz]

❛ 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐘𝐂𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 ❜ . . . nicholas chavez

MOTORCYCLE RIDER!nicholas x LITTLE SISTER!reader 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

SUMMARY, Nicholas goes to his friend's house for help after a motorcycle accident, only to be surprised by his younger sister instead.

A/N, love this plot and everything about it. hope you guys like it 🤍

WARNINGS, none

Nicholas limped up the driveway, the sting in his leg pulsing with every step. His motorcycle had skidded out on the highway half an hour ago, the slick asphalt catching his tires off guard. He had escaped the worst of it, but the scrape across his knee and the dull ache in his side were enough to remind him that tonight could have ended much worse.

His head throbbed, and his jacket hung loosely on his shoulders, the leather torn in places from the fall. He didn’t want to go home—not yet. He needed a familiar face, someone who wouldn’t ask too many questions. So, he had headed for Chris’ house. It was late, but Chris never minded; they had that kind of friendship.

He stepped up to the front door, wincing as he put pressure on his leg, and knocked softly. The house was mostly dark, save for the faint glow coming from the upstairs window. He waited for a moment, expecting his friend to answer, but there was no sound.

A shuffle came from inside, and after a pause, the door creaked open.

But it wasn’t Chris.

It was his sister.

She stood there, a book in one hand, her other resting on the doorframe. Her dark hair fell in loose waves, and her eyes widened slightly when she saw him standing there, bruised and bloodied.

“Nicholas?” she asked, her voice soft but full of surprise. “What the hell happened to you?”

His mouth went dry. They hadn’t spoken much in recent months. There had always been this strange, unspoken tension between them—a pull that neither of them acknowledged. But seeing her now, with the faint light casting shadows across her face, something in his chest tightened.

“Had a bit of an accident,” he muttered, gesturing toward his leg. “Chris around?”

She shook her head, stepping aside to let him in. “He’s out for the night. What kind of accident?”

“A stupid one,” he admitted, limping into the living room. “Bike went down on the highway. It’s not as bad as it looks.”

She closed the door behind him, her expression softening as she took in the state of him. “You look like you need more than just a few bandages.”

“I’m fine,” he said, brushing it off. “I just need to clean it up a bit.”

“Let me get the first aid kit,” she replied, not waiting for his protests as she disappeared down the hallway.

Nicholas sat down carefully on the couch, his hands trembling slightly from the leftover adrenaline. He wasn’t used to being vulnerable in front of her, of all people. He’d known her for years, watched her grow from the annoying little sister who always seemed to hover around the edges of his and Chris’s friendship, to… this.

She returned a moment later, a small kit in her hands. “Let me see,” she said, kneeling in front of him.

“I can do it myself,” he grumbled, trying to keep some semblance of pride.

“Clearly you can’t, or you wouldn’t have ended up here instead of the hospital,” she shot back, raising an eyebrow. She motioned for him to roll up his pant leg.

With a resigned sigh, he did as she asked, pulling the fabric up to reveal the scrape along his knee. It was raw and ugly, streaks of blood running down his shin.

Her face softened. “You really should have gone to a doctor,” she said quietly, but she didn’t press it any further. Instead, she carefully wiped away the dried blood, her touch gentle but precise. Her fingers grazed his skin, sending an unexpected jolt through him.

The tension between them thickened in the quiet, the only sounds coming from the clink of the antiseptic bottle and the sharp intake of his breath as she applied it.

“Sorry,” she murmured, her eyes briefly meeting his before she focused on the wound again.

“It’s fine,” Nicholas said, his voice rougher than he intended. He couldn’t ignore the way her presence made the room feel smaller, the way his pulse quickened when she was this close.

After a few moments, she reached for a roll of bandages, wrapping his leg with practiced ease. “You’re lucky it’s just a scrape,” she said. “Could’ve been a lot worse.”

He nodded, watching her hands move with surprising tenderness. “Yeah, guess I’ve always been lucky like that.”

She paused, her hands stilling on his leg for just a second, her eyes meeting his again—this time, there was something unspoken between them, something neither of them seemed willing to break. Her lips parted as if she was about to say something, but the words didn’t come.

Nicholas swallowed hard, feeling the pull between them grow stronger. The room felt too quiet, too charged. He could see the hesitation in her eyes, the same question he was asking himself. What would happen if he crossed that line?

“Angel..,” he began, his voice low. He didn't know what he was going to say next, only that his nickname he called her felt like an anchor in his mouth, keeping him here when he knew he should leave.

She didn't move. For a moment, neither of them did. The room felt smaller, the distance between them shrinking even though neither of them had taken a step. His pulse was loud in his ears, drowning out every rational thought telling him to walk out the door, to leave things as they were.

But he couldn't.

Her eyes flicked down to his mouth, just for a second, and something inside him snapped. Before he could stop himself, he closed the distance between them in two quick strides. She didn't move away. In fact, she stepped toward him, her breath catching slightly as he reached her.

"Angel," he says, but this time it was a whisper, like he was asking for permission he wasn't sure she'd give.

She met his gaze, her eyes dark and uncertain, but full of something deeper -something that mirrored what he was feeling. "Nicholas..." she breathed, and in that moment, it was all the permission he needed.

He reached for her, his hand finding her waist as he pulled her closer, his other hand gently cradling her face. She didn't resist. Her breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause around them, everything else fading into the background.

And then he kissed her.

It was slow at first, tentative, like both of them were testing the waters of something they'd been dancing around for far too long. Her lips were soft against his, warm, and he could feel the faint tremble in her body as she pressed against him. He kissed her deeper, and she responded, her hands sliding up to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his torn jacket.

The kiss deepened, and suddenly all the restraint they had been holding onto vanished. His fingers tangled in her hair as he tilted her head back, his lips moving against hers with a hunger that surprised him. He had thought about this-too many times, in too many ways—but nothing compared to the reality of having her here, in his arms, tasting her lips like he'd never be able to get enough.

She pulled him closer, her body molding against his, and his hands roamed down to her hips, feeling the heat between them grow with every second. The tension that had been building for so long finally exploded, filling the room with the heat of their kiss, the sound of their breaths mingling in the quiet space.

She broke away for just a second, her forehead resting against his as they both gasped for air. Her eyes were wide, lips swollen, and her fingers gripped his shirt as if she was afraid to let go.

"Nicholas.. your hurt we can’t be doing this" she whispered, her voice full of uncertainty but also something that felt like surrender.

Before he could reply, she stood up, breaking the moment. She started to gather the first aid supplies, her movements suddenly brisk and purposeful. “I’ll tell Chris you came by,” she said, her tone shifting back to something more neutral. “He’ll probably give you hell for wrecking the bike.”

Nicholas watched her, feeling the weight of everything unsaid between them settle back into place. He knew he should leave. But part of him wanted to stay.

But instead, he nodded, rising to his feet. “Thanks,” he said quietly, pulling his jacket back over his shoulders. “For, you know… this.”

She looked at him then, her expression softening just for a moment. “Anytime,” she said, but there was something else in her voice, something that told him this wasn’t just a one-time thing.

As he limped back toward the door, the silence between them felt heavier than before, but not unwelcome. It was a silence filled with possibility—possibility neither of them was quite ready to face.

Not yet.

[i-starcreamed]

Hi!, can I get some headcanons of transformers one character being jealous and the reader teases them.

D-16, Orion, Sentinel, Badassatron, and elita.

TF-ONE X READER

I tried to make this silly I'm feeling silly...enjoy

Post includes all of above :3

D-16

Tries to act unaffected by it, but doesn’t make a huge deal

Usually

He’s usually nice about it

Let’s say a bot is being really friendly with you, they’re making you laugh and everything. D sees from the distance, then comes up to you. Placing a servo against the small of your back-frame. “Heyy what’s so funny? I want to hear too :)”

He’s forcing a smile so bad.

He’s harmless, man, he trusts you completely

If another bot is for real flirting with you though, he's going to be so passive-aggressive

It’s more like he wants ur attention lol

If you teased him about it he’s going to deny it so hard

"What? No, no no.. I’m not jealous..pfft"

If you’re extra sweet maybe he’ll admit it

NOO y/n.. I’m funnier than them anyway.. I’m cooler too..

Orion

Don’t get jealous often either

He trusts you, he’s trustful of most bots

He gets jealous when you don't give him enough attention too

You’ll be talking to someone and he’ll just be in the background like,

“I’m..Y/N? Hey I..y/n? Uhm..I'm..right here..”

He’s so awkward, he doesn’t want to be rude to either of you but he’s lonely!!

If you tease him about looking sad when you’re not looking at him all the time, he’ll softly scoff.

"Well...yeah. They were flirting with you.."

sad puppy eyes

"Orion..they were asking me about Sentinels speech yesterday.."

"Oh...sorry."

eughhh

Sentinel

Oh boy

It’s a mix of irritation and jealousy

Why are you looking at someone else! When you can be looking at him!

He might be an attention seeker. He’ll just say things to catch your attention.

“Hey sweetspark, come look at my new paint job!” He calls you over as you're busy talking to someone else, he looks exactly the same btw

If you teased him I feel like he’ll take it way too seriously

“Jealous? What is there to be jealous of?? I’m literally Sentinel??”

But then his insecurity starts

“Wait…do you like talking to them more?”

evil sad puppy eyes

He'll only be content if you feed him compliments. Also erm..never talk to that bot again

#toxic

If he can’t demote the bot he was jealous of, he’ll try to one-up them, otherwise they are FIRED

After he gets over it he’ll be extra affectionate. You also get affectionate when you tease him so maybe it’s not so bad after all

insert makeout session

B-127

Badassatron

He’s definitely a bit attention and touch-starved after being stuck in low levels for who knows how many years

It’s only logical that he’s glued to your side for the rest of your life

If he’s jealous it’s very obvious. He tries to do something to get your attention or awkwardly stands there

Hey y/n look at this! - Does a backflip and falls

Tease him about it and he gets flustered

"Whattt? No, I’m not jealous!" He lets out a cocky laugh

“Ok maybe a little..”

Kiss his faceplate all over and he’s yours

He's definitely the least harmful

If he's jealous about a bot he particularly dislikes or they're flirting with you out and about, he might be more passive-aggressive about it

"Hey don't mean to intrude or anything, but uh, I'm kinda busy with my PARTNER. And by PARTNER I mean we're together. Yeah, uh huh! So, if you don't mind, my PARTNER and I are going to ignore you now. Since we're y'know..busy being together."

Elita

She’s smug about her jealousy, but only you could tell

“No, I’m not jealous. What makes you think that?”

Meanwhile, she’s giving the nastiest glare to the other bot.

“You really need to stop bringing their hopes up. Did you hear the way they were flirting with you?”

“Elita...they were just thanking me."

“Don’t even look at them actually"

If you tease her, she either denies it or is very proud

Like yeah she got a little jealous, she has such an amazing partner and anyone in their right mind would see that too.

Or no..she's definitely not jealous. She's just speaking her mind

[tortureddarkstar]

✩ IN BLOOM

AND HE LIKES TO SING ALONG / / AND HE LIKES TO SHOOT HIS GUN

DEAN WINCHESTER X F!READER

18+ CONTENT. MINORS DNI.

summary: dean teaches you how to shoot a gun. amongst other things.

this was a very much ‘fine i’ll do it myself’ kinda feat. not enough dean fics out there esp since its spn season. this is also my tumblr debut x

lots of smut, not a lot of plot. hope u like x

“hey, focus.”

your attention snapped back to the ‘x’ dean had etched into a tree.

dean had his arms around you, thick hands encompassing yours which aimed his white colt at dean’s makeshift target.

“hm? oh, sorry.” you blinked your eyes a few times, drawing in on the target.

“no. not ‘sorry’. focus.” he grunted in your ear. “sure thing you can use a knife, sweetheart, but what happens when you’re too far? y’gonna throw your knife at a ghost?”

“well that’s why i have you and sammy.” you shrugged, to which earned you a jab in the back from dean.

“keep your back straight.” dean rumbled, eyes rolling at your overt smartness.

“ow.”

“yeah, you’re gonna feel an ‘ow’ when you’ve got claws down your body. back straight, eyes on the target.” you took note of how his father’s drill training peeked through his orders to you, even after all these years.

you huffed, fixing your posture and lining up dean’s colt.

there was something twisted about such a pure, little thing using dean’s favoured weapon.

not only had he used it on countless demons, ghosts, werewolves- heck people too. but you remembered the first time time he had used it on you.

on a hunt, not too long ago, he caught you staring a little too mindlessly towards him.

well, not towards him. more so the colt.

and when you had told him later that night that you wanted him to use it on you, he seemed, at the time, a little taken aback, hesitant even.

however, you watched, writhing under him, as that hesitance turned into malevolence and instead of giving himself to you that night, he gave you only his gun.

“come on baby, work for it.” dean coaxed, admiring your contorted face and your wanton whimpers.

“you gonna shoot that anytime soon?”

fuck, now you were wet.

“sorry, m’just distracted.” you mumbled, furrowing your brows, determined to actually shoot now. “focusing now.”

dean was still behind you, heavy grip on your elbows, heavy breath in your ears.

yeah we’ll see about focusing.

dean had no intention to distract you by any means, in fact it was his idea for you to learn how to use a gun- “sam and i aren’t always gonna be there. and i don’t plan on you leaving anytime soon either.”

but you were taking way too long trying to shoot a target less than six feet from you, and dean never has any objections to a bit of fun.

he watched as your index finger finally began to apply pressure over the trigger. his mind calculating when exactly to introduce some fun into this little training session.

dean slowly took his hands off yours, letting it snake down to rest on your waist.

“dean, what are you doing?” your voice had already begun to shake, the weight of the colt feeling heavier as your palms started sweating.

“nothin’. focus.” dean dismissed, his hand traversing down, down, until he found the buttons on your jeans, toying with them until he hit the band of your panties.

“dean.” there was no way you were concentrating at all on that tree anymore.

“let’s play a little game, huh? the closer you are to the target, the closer i get to where you really want me.” his fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear. “that sound fair, sweets?”

instead of answering, you pulled the trigger, the bullet burning a hole in the tree 20 centimetres above from where you wanted it to go.

“that a yes, huh?” he grunted in your ear “but, i said the target, baby.”

“dean.. please.” you huffed out, eyes rolling as your head fell back onto his shoulder, the gun almost slipping out of your hands.

“monsters are more distracting. shoot. right in the middle, i know you can do it baby, come on.” dean’s voice was gruff in your ear, sending an entire wave of shivers down your spine.

you glanced down as his hand crept closer to where you craved him, edging around your clit, but never touching it.

inhaling, you straightened your back, shook away the shivers, and regained your grip on his colt.

“that’s a girl.” dean whispered, nipping your earlobe before granting you a sickly sweet kiss, stark in contrast to the current situation. he felt you whimper into the kiss before pulling away, not yet granting you any such reward.

this time you tried not to think as hard. yes thinking too hard would send you over the edge, resulting in a punishment from dean, but you also tried to rationalise- you wouldn’t be thinking too much if you were being chased by a demon, right?

the second shot was much better and much closer, not smack in the middle like he wanted but close enough for dean to finally reward you with attention to your aching clit.

“come on baby, third times the charm.” now dean was moving his right hand from your right elbow, allowing it to slip under your shirt and rest upon your left tit.

“s’too much, dean. please.” he could tell from the whiny tone of your voice that you had begun to tear up.

oh, he’d give you something to cry about.

without warning, he stuck his middle finger into you, letting the heel of his palm push against your core.

“see how nice i am? hmm?” he grunted, digging his finger and palm into you. “now, you make that shot and i’ll give you what you want. if not, all you’ll have tonight is that there colt.”

now that drew a moan out of you.

“we’ve a deal, pretty girl?” dean nosed at the side of your face, grinning slightly at your torment.

nothing but a pathetic hum, bordering a grumble, came out.

a mumble of ‘good girl’ came out of his mouth and into your hair as he resumed his movements inside.

just like the previous two times, you repeated your actions. straight back, tight grip. and just like the last time, you tried your damndest to clear your mind. even though it was harder now with his finger in you, moving with more fervour and more dexterity.

you bit your lip in both concentration and suppression of a throaty moan. your finger, once again, gripped the trigger as you pressed down, your eyes following the bullet as it hit the target.

smack. in. the. middle.

you began smiling but your celebration was cut short by dean finally moving as fast as you wanted, adding another finger, just as you wanted and finally, turning you around so he could kiss you. just as you wanted. finally making you cum, just as you wanted.

“atta girl. knew you could do it. baby just needed a bit of encouragement, huh?” dean goaded. through your concentration and your post-orgasmic haze, you hadn’t noticed that dean had taken himself out of his confines, allowing you to feel just how hard he was.

with as much might your jelly-legs could muster, you jumped onto him, caging him as you pushed him backwards on the hood of his impala parked conveniently behind you.

“you want this, baby? want me to fuck you on my car?” he tugged your head back by your hair to watch your reply- jaw slack with a hastened nod and moan. “dirty girl.”

you let his mouth envelop yours before he spun you both around, setting your back onto the car. from here, you could see just how desperate you were for him, a collection of your juices had darkened his boxers, a little on his open fly, catching the light of the cloudy sun.

you carried on staring, eyes glazing over as he lined himself up with your entrance, that beautiful sting electrifying as he settled deep into you.

“dean.” you whined. your hands had moved from holding his midsection to cradling his face as your nails dug into his neck, bringing him into a kiss that was purely teeth and tongue, encouragement for him to keep moving.

a few, albeit long, minutes pass of dean rocking in and out, in and out of you with the occasional kiss or tug at each others hair, all the while your moans of his name and other incoherencies fill the air of the murky woodland dean had sought out for your ‘lesson’.

oh what a lesson this was.

dean found himself moving faster now, his hands and hips most likely bruising you. he would be lying if he said that’s not what he wanted. swallowing one of your breathy moans once again, his thumb moved to your clit, bringing you to the edge right next to him.

the twittering of crows were now drowned out by mumbles of ‘dean’, ‘so good’ and other mismatched phrases, stark in contrast to your usual eloquence.

“come on baby, cum with me. come on.” dean goaded, his thrusts getting harsher as his words got more strained.

obedient as always, you took the thumb of the hand cradling your head into your mouth, sucking, licking, biting on it as your brow-bone tilted up- both signs of your ever-approaching orgasm.

soon enough, ramblings of heated compliments were overtook by the increasing pitch and tone of moans, the last articulate sentence being dean’s- a simple warning of his seed spilling into you falling from his pout lips, enough to push you over the edge you’d been teetering on for the past ten minutes.

ever eager to please, you let go.

spasm after spasm washed over you as dean watched from above, cheshire cat-smile across his face as he watched yours contort when he pulled out to stand and admire his handiwork.

he waited and watched as you sat up on the impala, leaning on your hands. dean revelled in the way your hair tangled, your tits spilling from the tank you wore, matching the dark-wash jeans that had bunched up around your knees.

you were in bloom. and oh how he basked in it.

[tpwk-formula1]

Hi, i hope you’re doing well :) Can i order sicilian crust with alfredo sauce. For the toppings can i have red peppers, mushrooms, feta cheese, roasted artichokes, bbq chicken, sun dried and tomatoes. To drink i will have water, dr.pepper, and truly with dessert and lewis hamilton please and thank you so much💋💋💋

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

sicilian dating Alfredo sweet sex red peppers “No. Go change” mushrooms "Wrong, wanna try again" feta “God, I love watching your makeup get ruined” roasted artichokes “im gonna put a baby in you” bbq chicken “Gonna let me cum in you? I know you wanna have my baby” sundried tomatoes "Gonna look so pretty pregnant" tomatoes "Do you enjoy pissing me off?" water breeding kink dr pepper dirty talk truly belly bulge dessert yes served by Lewis Hamilton

Lewis x longtime GF! reader

TW - riding, unprotected sex, breeding kink, missionary, dirty panties

WC 1200+

Y/N POV

"Love, is this okay?" I ask for a second time tonight. Lewis and I were gonna be going to a post-season party now that everyone was back in Monaco and wanted to celebrate the end of another great season.

“No. Go change” Lewis tells me roughly making me groan and roll my eyes.

"Baby, what is wrong with this one?" I ask softly while approaching him. The first outfit I came out in was just my lingerie wanting to tease Lewis but this was what I had been planning to wear and I was a bit confused as to why he was saying no.

"Doesn't match my outfit," Lewis tells me softly making me laugh and shake my head.

"So glad it was because the color of my dress was wrong and not you becoming an insecure man worried about my legs showing," I tell him softly making him scoff jokingly before we both break into a small fit of laughter.

"Never that, can I pick," Lewis asks with a boyish glint in his eye making me smile softly and nod my head yes. Lewis softly pushes me off his lap before we both make our way into our large shared closet where he instantly starts looking for a dress that would match his outfit.

"How about this?" Lewis asked softly while holding up a light blue dress with a deep V neckline that showed off my tits and curves perfecting. It was one of Lewis's favorite dresses I have ever owned so I'm not in the least bit surprised.

"I don't know. I feel like it shows too much skin," I tell Lewis softly while walking over to the other side of my closet where I pull out a dress in the same shade of blue but a bit more modest making Lewis's face turn upwards in disgust.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" Lewis says almost in a joking manner.

"I picked this one 'cause I wanna show you off tonight," Lewis explains softly making me smile and nod my head.

"Fine, only because we are celebrating you and your final season with Mercedes coming to an end," I tell him softly while slipping off the first dress I had on and letting Lewis help me into the dress he had picked.

When Lewis had the dress all the way zipped up we both walked over to the full-length mirror where we both looked into it and smiled.

"God, you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen," Lewis groans softly making me smile.

"You really know your stuff," I joke while stroking my hands down my dress making sure it's laying on my body just right.

"We leave in 30 minutes, are you all ready?" Lewis asked softly while still longuing in just his boxers knowing he will only need a couple of minutes to throw his outfit on.

"Ya, just need to put my lipstick on," I tell him softly while making my way to where he was sitting on the bed before crawling into his laps.

"30 minutes is enough time to let me ride you," I saw with a smirk making Lewis groan and helps rut my hips into his hardening cock.

"Fuck, you little minx," Lewis says with a smirk making me whimper and pull off the dress Lewis had just helped me pick out.

Once I'm down into just my thong I feel Lewis pull his hard cock out of his boxers making me whimper when I see how hard he already is.

"Go on," Lewis says with a smirk while rubbing a few fingers through my soaked folds making me whimper as I situate myself over his cock before sinking down slowly.

"Oh god," I whimper once Lewis is fully seated in my pussy. I start rocking my hips trying to stretch myself as much as possible on Lewis's cock before I start bouncing.

“Gonna let me cum in you? I know you wanna have my baby,” Lewis groaned out making me whimper and nod my head.

"Yes cum in me tonight Lewis, please," I beg bouncing faster trying to hit all the right stops before Lewis roughly flips us over so I am now on my back letting Lewis fuck into me making me whimper.

"Fuck, I can see you in me," I gasp when I look down and notice Lewis's cock is creating a bulge in my stomach everytime he pushes in.

"Soon, instead of my cock giving you a bump it's gonna be my babies," Lewis groan speeding up his actions making me cry out when i feel his fingers on my clit.

"Oh god, it's too much," I gasp through tears pouring down my face making Lewis smirk at the sight.

“God, I love watching your makeup get ruined,” Lewis comments when he sees my tears starting to streak my mascara.

"Fuck Lewis, slow down a bit," I groan which only makes Lewis speed up sending me into a quick and powerful orgasm.

"Oh god," I cry out as Lewis continued fucking me through my first orgasm of the night.

"Lewis, hurry I have to fix my makeup," I whine when I notice he is in no way slowing down.

"Wrong, wanna try again," Lewis groans when he hears the mention of my makeup being fixed.

"Just take it off then. I'm not done with this sweet little pussy," Lewis continues making my head spin from all the pleasure.

"Lew, I feel like I might cum again," I whine out making Lewis speed up his thrust a bit.

"Fuck I'm gonna put a baby in you," Lewis groans when he can feel himself getting close to the edge as well.

"Cum with me," Lewis says roughly before he starts spilling his seed deep into my pussy sending me into another screaming orgasm. Once Lewis helps the both of us ride out our orgasm he quickly moves my thong back into place to capture as much of his cum as possible.

"Don't you fucking dare change those! Want you to feel my cum all night, remind you that you're mine," Lewis tells me while leaning down and kissing my lips before finding my discarded dress on the ground and helping me back into it before I head into the bathroom to see the damage done on my makeup.

It wasn't the worst it could have been but it could be better. I quickly touch up my makeup slightly keeping some smudge mascara around my eyes. To anyone that wasn't Lewis and I they would assume I was going for a smoked-out eyeliner look but Lewis and I would know the truth that it came from crying while he filled up my pussy.

"Gonna look so pretty pregnant," Lewis said softly while coming into the bathroom and wrapping his arms around my waist.

"You think it's only gonna take one time," I tease with a raised brow.

"Oh don't worry I'm gonna fill that pussy up every day until I see a positive test," Lewis said with a smirk making me laugh lightly.

"When we get home can we have a serious conversation about this. I don't wanna get my hopes up if you're not serious," I tell Lewis softly making him smile and nod his head.

"well, to ease your mind I am very serious. I will be the father of your children and you're the only woman worthy to carry on the Hamilton legacy. But yes we can have a conversation tonight," Lewis tells me softly pulling me in for a quick kiss before we got a call letting us know our driver was here.

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter two:

➴ warnings: toxic mom, mentions of mental health issues.

➴ word count: 3.7k

➴ author’s note: thought of making this chapter 4k+ words long but then i felt bad for u guys so i made it shorter 🫂 hope u like it and thank u for reading!

౨ৎ

2024, MARCH

THE AIRPORT was filled with people, as it always was, but you were so used to Los Angeles’ fast pace that it didn’t bother you. With your suitcase in your left hand and your purse in the other, you walked towards the check-in area, after trying to locate your flight to Toronto on the panels.

Strangely enough, there weren't any flights to Toronto at one two forty-eight p.m., which was the time on the ticket your mom had sent you. You frowned but let it go, thinking that maybe they had some technical issues and forgot to put the flight there.

After waiting in line for about fifteen minutes, one of the staff finally called you. “Passport, please,”

You nodded and handed him your passport, waiting for your boarding pass. When he gave it to you, after weighing your suitcase and putting a tag on it, you called him again, confused.

“Excuse me, sir,” He looked at you, waiting for you to keep going. “This boarding pass says the flight is to Vancouver.”

He raised his eyebrow. “So?”

You chuckled. “I’m going to Toronto, not Vancouver,” you tried to explain, returning the ticket. “There’s been a mistake.”

“Ma’am,” he started, voice sounding a little bit too annoyed to your liking. “Your name is on the list for the flight AC 472, to Vancouver, Canada. You’re Madison Carter, right?”

“Yeah, I am, but—”

“Maybe you bought the wrong ticket but I can assure you, ma’am, this plane is flying to Vancouver.”

You stared at him, wanting to shout that you weren’t the one who had bought the ticket, your mom did; and you didn’t even want to be in Canada in the first place because you’d much rather clean the airport’s floor with your own tongue than to go back to the life you had in Toronto.

But unfortunately the worker didn’t have anything to do with your shitty past, so you just nodded and wished him a good day. Next thing, you grabbed your phone and called failed your mom’s number, praying that she’d pick up and tell you that it was a mistake and that she bought the wrong ticket and—

“Jessica Carter.”

“It’s Madison,” you greeted, trying your hardest to stay collected. “Mom, the ticket you bought me is to Vancouver, not Toronto.”

She went silent for a while, and you frowned.

“Mom, the ticket—”

“Yes, Madison, I heard the first time you spoke,” she made a tsc sound with her tongue. “What’s the matter?”

“What— what do you mean, what’s the matter? Isn’t the dinner in Toronto?”

“No.”

You heart was beating so fast inside your chest and your hands were starting to feel sticky and cold. You looked around the place, people coming and going, while no one seemed to notice the turmoil happening inside of your chest.

“We’re having dinner in Vancouver, at the place I texted you. Didn’t you check it?” She sounded annoyed. And no, of course you hadn’t checked, you didn’t need to. You knew it was going to be another fancy ass restaurant with fancy ass people and small ass meals that tasted ten times less than the price you paid for them.

“But why?” Your voice trembled, and you coughed to cover it. “Aren’t you guys in Toronto?”

“Madison, everyday I pray to God that one day you will finally actually love your family,” she hissed, and your heart actually stop. Or at least that’s how you felt. “Your dad isn’t working with the Toronto hockey team anymore, he quit last year and it was all over the news. I know you don’t care about your family but you could at least pretend to. What if a reporter asked you questions about us? What do you think it’d look like with the press when your dad’s own daughter doesn’t care about her dad?”

You wanted to scream at her, turn the phone off, leave the airport and pick Bella up at the dog hotel she was staying in and take her home so you could both cuddle for the entire weekend. You wanted to tell her that no one in that family knew what the word love meant, no one even cared about it. And even if you had known love once, it was gone now, and all you could do is continue with your life.

“Get on that plane, Madison. I’ll see you at Hawksworth at seven p.m. tonight and you better not be late. Have a safe flight.” She said before hanging up on you.

You stared at your phone’s screen until it went completely black. Sometimes, you asked yourself why you still did what your mom wanted. You were twenty-two, you had your own job and your own money. You wouldn’t exaclt lose anything if you stopped talking to her.

But then, every time you thought about not doing what she asked you to, or even stopping talking to her, you felt like the worst daughter in the whole green world. You felt ungrateful, and a feeling that left your chest so hollow you couldn’t breathe.

So you kept walking behind her, stepping only where she asked you to.

Sighing, you went back to walking towards the security area. There wasn’t anything that could be done and honestly, you were too exhausted to even think of something.

So, Vancouver it is.

౨ৎ

THE TAXI smelled like fried peanuts making you scrunch your nose.

You looked through the window, looking at the city you’d been born in and how much it’s changed. As much as you hated to admit, Vancouver had always been extremely beautiful.

You were on your way to the restaurant, feeling like you’d lost a thousand battles. When you arrived at your hotel earlier they had mistaken you for someone else and put you in the worst bedroom ever. And if that wasn’t enough, you had to take a cold shower because the shower heater wasn't working and now you were shivering because it was March and Vancouver was still cold as hell.

“Miss?”

You turned your head around, facing the driver. He was making a funny face at you and you were just about to ask what was so funny when he pointed outside. You followed his finger and well, there it was. The Hawksworth restaurant your mom loved so much. Ignoring the tug on your chest, you thanked the man and got out of the car.

Thanking past you for choosing a warm dress and comfortable heels, you made your way inside the restaurant, politely greeting the people you saw on your way to the hostess.

“Good evening,” you said, smiling at the blonde girl in front of you. “Madison Carter.”

“Good evening, ma’am. They’re waiting for you in the private room. Do you need someone to take you there?” She crossed your name on some fancy sheet and you shook your head. You’ve been going to this place ever since you were a child. You knew it like the back of your hand.

After a quiet thank you, you resumed your walk, mentally preparing yourself for what this evening was going to be. Your mom making sure to control all of your doings, your dad only talking about himself and his work and Peter— hell, you didn’t even know if Peter would be here.

It’s not like your mom treated him the same way as she treated you anyway, so if he wanted to get away with not coming to this dinner, he would.

When you turned to the left so you could enter the private area, your body was shocked with something, making your purse drop from your hold.

With heels so tall, you almost lost your balance, just staying in place because a hand, gentle yet extremely firm you noticed, grabbed you by the waist and pushed you to the side.

“I’m so sorry, are you—”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere, no matter how much it’d changed. Looking up, you stared into Quinn’s blue eyes and held your breath.

“Madison.”

He said your name like it had poison in it, and it hurt. You still remember the last time you saw him and his family back in 2017, with him taking care of you while you were sick. How you tried so hard to memorize his features because you knew seeing him again in person would be nothing but close to impossible.

And yet here he was, standing right in front of you, wearing a fancy suit and many, many inches taller than you. His curls were carefully styled, pushed back with only a strand of hair falling down his forehead.

He had a stubble decorating his chin and it fitted him so perfectly, making him look older and mature.

Quinn Hughes still looked like the man you fell in love with when you were fifteen. And you weren’t exactly sure what to do with this information.

“Quinn.” You whispered, because you didn’t trust yourself enough to speak without stuttering.

“Jesus, finally, Madison, we’ve been waiting for you for ten minutes,” your mom’s voice filled the space and you jumped back, removing yourself from Quinn’s grip and remembering that you were still in the hallway of a famous restaurant, with people coming and going. “I see that you and Quinn are happy to see each other again.”

You bend down to grab your purse, choosing not to look at him while your mom talks. You had already seen enough in his eyes.

You got up and followed your mom, your body highly aware that the man you hadn’t seen for seven years, your best friend, was just a few steps behind you.

When you got to your table, you tried your hardest not to gasp out loud. Because your mind was probably playing games with you and you weren’t seeing the Hughes sitting with your dad and brother—

“Maddie!” You heard Jack shouting, looking like he didn’t care that they were at a five star restaurant.

You let out a wet chuckle, feeling your eyes wet with unshod tears. There they were; Luke, Jack, Ellen, Jim and… well. Quinn.

“Oh my God,” Ellen got up, immediately reaching for you. “You’re so pretty. And so grown up too!”

“Hi, Mrs. Hughes,” you smiled, squeezing her just as hard. “It’s so nice to see you.”

“You were always beautiful but,” she whistled, making you give her a little twirl. “Damn right.”

You giggled, feeling your chest a hot lighter. Despite being hurtful, this was a pleasant surprise.

“Hey, Mr. Hughes,” you greeted Jim, kissing him lightly on the cheek, just to watch the blush adorne his face like you knew it would. “Luke and Jack. You guys are taller than me now.”

“Hey, Maddie,” Luke got up, hugging you quickly, like a teenage boy who had just seen his first woman. “You’re all grown up too.”

“Where the hell have you been?” Jack asked, patting the seat beside him. You gave your own family a brief nod before sitting down, placing your purse on the chair and smiling at Jack, ignoring the fact that Quinn was sitting in front of you.

“I moved to LA a few years ago,” you explained, noticing how they were all paying attention to you. As they had always done. “I’m working as a model now.”

“Baby, we know!” Ellen smiled, squeezing Jim’s arms. “When I saw you on VOGUE last year I thought, this girl looks a lot like Madison. And then I realized. That was you!”

You smiled, bringing your shoulders to your ears, cheeks red and all.

“What do you think of LA, honey?” Ellen asked, resting her chin on her hand.

“I love it there,” you smiled. “Los Angeles is so full of life and opportunities. Not to mention the fact that I ran into super famous people all the time,” you giggled, remembering that one time you ran into Jennifer Aniston while you were grocery shopping.

“You are famous now too, M,” Jack jokes, making you laugh. “Are people there nice to you?”

You stared at his blue, gorgeous eyes and smiled, frankly. They were worried about your well-being and it made your heart flutter. Not even your own family asked these questions.

“Yeah, Jackie, they are,” you nodded. “I really love it there.”

“Then we’re happy, honey.”

They moved on to another topic of how all of you are so grown now, and how well you were all doing in your careers. Your parents were mostly talking about Peter, and how proud they are because he’s in his last year of medical school, soon to be a resident in orthopedic surgery.

You didn’t mind the fact that they preferred to talk about Peter and his accomplishments over you, in fact, you actually preferred it this way. That way they would leave you and your choices alone, which was what you wanted. Besides, you could keep stealing glances from Quinn’s beautiful, comforting face here and there. Not that he was looking at you, or even talking your way.

You couldn’t exactly blame him. After he left for Michigan, your mom made sure you didn’t have time to grieve over him leaving, no. She was making sure you were on the cover of Fashion’s at the ripe age of sixteen.

And when you thought of reaching out first, you took a peep at his and his university’s Instagram. And he was always surrounded by beautiful, talented girls who were his age and seemed to know what they were doing. And you were just like the little, ugly duck, sixteen and naive.

So you never really contacted him or his family, for that matter. You knew your parents still kept in touch with the Hughes, but they never told you anything— and you didn’t ask. But Quinn couldn’t be too upset with you because he had never reached out to you either. So you were both pretty much even.

“What are you doing after we leave here?” Jack asked beside you, after swallowing down his food.

“Honestly?” You chuckled. “I’m gonna go back to my hotel and sleep. I’m tired.”

“No way,” he almost pouted. He liked twelve years old all over again. “You’re coming with us, we’re heading to a club after this, it’s our last night together with Huggy bear,” he pointed at Quinn, who was eyeing him weirdly. “And now, it’s our last night with you too.”

“You’re leaving already?” You frowned.

“We’ve been here for a few days now but it’s still the season. We need to head back to Newark soon.” Luke explained, and it all made sense. Sometimes you forget that they’re famous, talented hockey players.

“That’s great, hum—” your phone started ringing and you opened your purse to decline it, frowning when you saw Nicholas’ name flashing on the screen. He knew you were on your day off and he had never called you during days off before. So it was probably important. “Sorry, excuse me, it’s my boss.” You excused yourself before leaving the table and accepting the call.

“Madison?”

“Yeah, Nick, hi,” you walked out of the restaurant, wanting to be outside so you could hear him better, feeling the cold air hit your face immediately. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, no, nothing happened.”

“Then why are you calling me?” You giggled. “It’s my day off.”

“Oh, right,” he laughed, the high pitch noise making you smile too. “I’m calling you because we fucking did it, baby!”

“Um. What did we do?”

He scoffed like he couldn’t believe you were even asking. “What do you mean, Madison Carter! We finally signed you to La Vie en Rose!”

You audibly gasped, trying your hardest not to start jumping around.

Despite the fact that you had worked with bigger retailers before, La Vie en Rose has always been one of your and Nicholas’ biggest dreams.

“You’re lucky I’m out right now because otherwise you’d be hearing my screams there in Los Angeles,” you laughed, feeling truly happy for the first time in a while. “How did it happen? Actually, no,” you interrupted yourself. “I don’t even care about what you did. This is huge! When do I start?”

“This is where it gets better.”

“Better than working with one of my favorite designers? Try me.”

“They asked if you had any preferences for places and since you’ve been here here in LA for four years now, I thought I’d do you a favor and get you closer to your family,” he said, excitement pouring down his words. “So I said that you could get signed with their Canadian headquarters and guess what? They said yes! So now you’ll have to move to Vancouver, of course, but think with me—”

You didn’t even care about the rest of the things he was saying. The high from before disappearing like candies during Halloween, your happiness being replaced by an ugly, horrid feeling that made your stomach hurt, all the food you’d just eaten trying to find its way back outside.

“Madison? Are you there?”

“Yes,” you gritted through your teeth, taking deep breaths. “Nicholas, I can't. I cannot be in Vancouver.”

“If you’re worried about moving and your apartment and Bella, don’t worry, they’ll cover it all—”

“I’m not worried about moving, I just can’t,” your voice cracks, so you take a moment to breathe again. “I can’t be in Vancouver.”

“Madison—”

“They have their headquarters in Paris. I can move there, it’s no issue, really.” You pleaded.

“You’d rather move to Paris than to be with your family in Canada?” He sounded surprised and confused at the same time and you bit your lip, remembering your mom’s words about the press and rumors. You trusted Nicholas and you knew he wasn’t going to tell anyone anything but in the world of fashion, words flew fast. “I’m not following.”

“Yes,” you confessed. “Can you do that?”

“No, I— I already signed the deal. I thought I was doing you a favor—”

“You didn’t do me any favor, Nicholas!” You didn’t realize you were speaking louder now, raising your arm. “I’m not fucking moving to Vancouver! Fuck.”

You ran your hand through your hair, feeling bad for lashing out on him, but just the thought of living close to your family and Quinn made you lose your mind.

Nicholas sighed, speaking after an entire minute. “Listen. I don’t know where this is coming from and I’d really like to help you if you need me. But this is your dream, Madison. Ever since I met you, when you were that sweet, little dove at eighteen, you’ve been talking about this. And you know how hard we worked for this.”

“Nicholas,” you called out and he shushed you.

“And I can’t do anything about this. I’m sorry, but this is above me. I made the wrong decision of signing it without talking to you first but you were out with your family and I didn’t want to bother you.” He sighed, staying silent for a while, as you looked straight ahead, not really seeing anyone, even though the street was busy. “If you say no, it’s… they’ll choose someone else. Madison, I need you to think about this.”

You could hear the entreaty in his voice and you felt so bad. He was right.

“You need to give me an answer by Monday. I’ve already told them you’d be thrilled to move but I can always take back what I said,” he murmured, and if you knew him well enough, you’d say he’s squeezing his cheeks between his fingers right now. “It’d only be for six months, baby. Think about it.”

You were silent for a while, before realizing he was probably waiting for an answer.

“Right,” you whispered. “Okay. I’ll call you later. And I’m sorry for yelling at you, I know you were just doing what you thought was the best.”

“I’m so sorry, Mads. Totally thought I was doing you a favor.”

“It’s fine,” you answer, nodding even though you knew he couldn’t see. “Bye.”

“Bye, Mads. Call me if you need anything.”

You hadn’t even turned your phone off completely before hearing a voice behind you.

“Troubles in paradise, huh?”

You turn around, facing Quinn who was now leaning against the restaurant wall, by himself. Where were the people who worked there or the other customers you didn’t know, and truthfully, you didn’t really care at that moment.

“Excuse me?” You asked, staring at him, watching as he shrugged, like he hadn’t said anything.

“I asked if you were having troubles in your little Angeleno world, since things seem to be so perfect in Los Angeles.”

“This is the first conversation we have in years and this is how you want it to go? Seriously?” You stepped closer, standing in front of him, tilting your head up so you could stare into those beautiful eyes you’d love to lose yourself in.

No, you reprimanded yourself. Not anymore.

“I don’t know,” he looked down, his eyes meeting yours. “Remind me of why this is our first conversation in years, Madison,” again, he said your name like it hurt him.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?”

“Guys, what the hell,” someone shouted beside you, making both you and Quinn turn your heads around. Jack stood there, looking slightly displeased, while Luke typed something on his phone. “We’ve been looking for you for ages. Our parents left through the other entrance a while ago. It’s time to party, baby!”

“I’m not going,” you hissed, stepping back.

“What do you mean you’re not going?” Luke looked up from his phone, frowning at you. “Maddie. We haven’t seen each other in years!”

“I know, I’m just tired and—”

“We need to catch up!” Jack whined, wrapping his arms around your waist, shaking you slightly. “We need to talk!”

“She doesn’t like talking, do you, Madison?” Quinn blurted out, eyes turning gray when directed at you.

For some reason that one comment turned your fight or flight mode and you had enough. “You’re so funny, Quintin,” you plastered on the biggest fake smile you could. “Actually, I’m not that tired. Let’s go.”

You followed two yelling boys and a moody one, not even acknowledging the latter. If Quinn wanted to be all pissy about the fact that you hadn’t spoken to him in years, when he also hadn’t reached out to you, then fine. Two could play that game.

taglist: @ru-kru 🤎

[washoping]

You're enough

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Emily Prentiss x reader

summary: You've had a really bad day, leaving you unable to get up and face the world. When Emily comes home from work to find you still in bed, she knows something deeper is wrong - and she won't let you go through it alone.

tags: fluff and angst, emotional hurt/comfort, mental health issues, self-esteem issues, depression, comfort

f/f │ 2.7k words │ ao3

a/n: another lil oneshot i wrote to get my own feelings out of my head, hopefully this will help and maybe bring comfort to some of you as well. please remember you're not alone <3 also, requests are welcome!

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ──── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

The apartment was quiet, almost too quiet. It was the kind of silent that felt heavy and suffocating.  The only thing you could hear was the rhythmic pulse of the clock, its sound a cruel reminder of time passing. You were staring up at the ceiling, the grey evening light filtering weakly through the half-drawn blinds, casting a dull glow in the room. The day had been so long. Time had lost its meaning sometime after Emily had left for work. The hours had blurred together, morning to afternoon, afternoon to evening, leaving you feeling empty and making the day slip away without you.

You hadn’t moved from the comfort of your bed since Emily left that morning - maybe even longer. It felt like you were sinking, trapped underneath the weight of invisible hands pressing you into the mattress. You couldn’t explain why or how the day had ended up being like this. It just had. All you knew was that everything had felt off for you since the moment you opened your eyes, like the world was tilted off its axis. So you had stayed still, cocooned in the safety of your bed, even though it wasn’t truly safe. Not from yourself.

And then you heard the sound of the front door opening and closing echoing through the quiet apartment, pulling you from the void of your thoughts. Emily’s familiar, calm voice broke through the silence.

”Baby? I’m home!”

You heard her keys drop into the glass bowl on the counter, the rustle of her jacket being hung up on its hook, her kicking her shoes off. The sounds of normalcy. Something inside your chest ached at that. It didn’t bring the usual comfort. It was like you were stuck watching and hearing life happening in front of your eyes but between that and you there was a thick glass wall - so close, but completely unreachable.

You could tell by the tone of Emily’s voice that there was a little smile on her face. It nearly broke you. The easiness she used the pet name for you with, how happy she seemed to see you after a long day. She sounded so normal, as if nothing was wrong. She had no idea what she was walking into. You hated yourself for putting her through this.

You didn’t respond. One part of you wanted to get up to meet your girlfriend in the kitchen, to pretend everything was fine. That was something you were a professional in. But right now, your body felt heavy, your limbs didn’t want to cooperate. You didn’t have the energy to do so. The sheets around your body had become more like chains throughout the day, holding you in place with the weight of your exhaustion, both physical and emotional.

Another part of you hoped that the quietness and stillness in the apartment would keep her at a distance, just for a while longer. You needed her, your body yearned for comfort but you weren’t ready. You weren’t ready for her questions or to see the disappointed look in her eyes when she realized you weren’t feeling well. You weren’t ready for her to see you like this. Not today.

Emily’s footsteps padded down the hallway and instead of awakening the usual excitement inside you with them, you felt your anxiety deepen. You heard her knock lightly on the bedroom door before opening it. ”Babe?”

The door creaked a bit and you felt Emily’s presence before you saw her. She stood there for a moment, silent, taking in the sight of you still wrapped in bed like a lifeless figure beneath the covers. You pretended to be asleep. The room was dim and in the air there were faint traces of yesterday’s coffee that had long gone cold on the nightstand. You hadn’t even managed to open the blinds fully. It reduced the world outside to a narrow sliver of pale light that barely got in the room.

You heard Emily sigh. You were sure she was disappointed.

”Have you been in bed all day?” she asked, her voice soft but clearly laced with concern. There was something in her tone that made your chest tighten - a mix of worry and confusion probably, like she was trying to piece together what had happened in your world while she was gone for the day.

Once again, you didn’t answer. You just curled up tighter.

Emily walked towards you cautiously and you felt the mattress dip a little underneath you when she sat on the edge of the bed. You felt the warmth of her presence beside you but it only made you pull the blankets tighter around your body, like a shield. The fabric was rough against your skin from being tangled with you all day.

”Honey, talk to me”, Emily said and reached out, her hand brushing softly against your arm. Her touch was gentle but insistent. ”Did you get up at all? Have you eaten anything?”

”I’m just tired, Emily”, you whispered your weak excuse. The lie had barely left your lips before it felt hollow already, hanging heavy in the air between you. ”I just want to sleep, okay?”

The words felt wrong. The truth was that you didn’t even know what you wanted. Sleep seemed like an impossible task, but so did getting out of bed. Facing the world seemed the most daunting. What you needed was for everything to stop for a while so you could breathe.

Emily’s hand lingered on your arm, her thumb now brushing small circles against your skin in a soothing manner. You felt her hesitate a bit and a part of you wished she would stop. That she would just leave you alone to sink back into the void you’d been trying to disappear into the whole day. But another part of you, a more fragile part, longed for her to stay more than anything so she could pull you out of the darkness even though you felt like you didn’t deserve the help.

”Hey… come here”, she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing softly against the crown of your head.

You felt the mattress shift again as she tried to wrap her arms around you to pull you into her embrace, but you flinched, turning your body away from her. It stung. Your hand came up reflexively, pushing her away in a weak attempt to create some distance. It wasn’t that you didn’t want her comfort. You imagined the hurt look on her face just now after declining her embrace and it made you feel even worse. You wanted her comfort so bad but didn’t feel worthy of it.

”Okay, okay…” Emily’s voice was clearly filled with hurt now, the softness of it was disappearing. She sat back, giving you space, but you could feel the tension in the air as if she was waiting for an explanation - something to make sense of why you were acting like this.

”I told you”, you muttered, your voice cracking slightly as you tried your best to keep the flood of emotions in. You didn’t have the energy to let it out. ”I’m just tired. That’s all. I need to be alone for a bit.”

It wasn’t convincing at all. It all sounded like pure lies. You didn’t want to be alone. Being alone was what had gotten you here, spiraling deeper until you couldn’t breathe. But the part of letting her in and exposing this part of you to her was equally terrifying. What if she saw you like this and realized you weren’t worth it and that she couldn’t do this anymore?

You could feel the tears building again, your eyes burning from the hours you had spent crying alone in the dark. You bit your lips together, clenching your jaw, trying to hold back the wave of emotions that threatened to spill over. But Emily read you like a book. She wasn’t fooled.

”Look at me”, she whispered, gently but insistent on solving all of this. Her hand reached for your face and even though everything inside you screamed to pull away, to hide the shame and mess, you couldn’t. Your body betrayed you in the best way possible, frozen in the space between wanting both; to disappear and needing her to see all of you. So you let her fingers grab your chin and turn your head towards her.

Her gaze finally locked with yours properly for the first time after her coming home. The world seemed to still for a moment. Her expression shifted immediately the second her eyes met your eyes, red and blood-shot from all the crying. You saw so much love in hers, in the way she looked at you. It was almost unbearable.

”Oh baby…” she breathed, her thumb gently wiping away the tear that slipped down your cheek. So soft, so tender. ”Why didn’t you say anything?”

You couldn’t answer. The lump in your was too thick now, the shame too overwhelming. What would you even say? That you had spent the entire day trapped beneath the crushing weight of your own emotions, feeling like you were sinking into the bed, disappearing into the heaviness of it all? That each minute had felt like drowning, the weight pressing down on you until you couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe?

How could you explain that the hopelessness clawing at your insides was so deep, so consuming that it had taken all your energy just to exist today? And that despite it all you still didn’t feel like you deserved to be here, in her arms, in her life even?

All that didn’t even begin to explain the depth of the hopelessness you felt.

Her thumb traced another tear away as her eyes searched for your face, more concerned now after not hearing you say anything.

”Please, talk to me”, she whispered, cracks in her voice showing her calmness cracking. ”What’s going on? I just want to help.”

Your breath hitched, the pressure in your chest building until it felt like you were about to break.

”I… I had a bad day.” Everything you wanted to say was stuck in your throat and your voice trembled. The words felt like they barely scratched the surface. ”I had a really bad day.”

Emily’s hand never left your cheek, her thumb still stroking your cheek softly. She didn’t push. She didn’t demand more than you could give. She gave you time and waited. She gave you space when you needed it.

”You were right. I didn’t… I didn’t get out of bed”, you finally admitted, your voice barely audible. You couldn’t look into her eyes while you spoke. ”I just stayed here, all day. I couldn’t… do anything. I’m so sorry.”

”Sorry for what?” Emily’s voice was soft. Her brows furrowed as she tried to understand. ”You don’t have to apologize for having a bad day, love. You should’ve told me in the morning, I would’ve stayed with you.”

The floodgates opened before you could stop them. The shame, the self-hate, it all spilled out of you harder this time. Your whole body trembled as you finally let go of some of the emotions you had been holding back all day, crying out the words you hadn’t let yourself say until now.

”I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you”, you sobbed now, voice thick with shame. ”I don’t deserve you. I’m a mess, Emily. Don’t you see? I’m a fucking mess and I don’t understand why you’re here. I don’t deserve your love. Not like this. I don’t even understand why you’re staying. Go.”

You thought this would be it - the moment where your words would push her away, too far, and she’d finally see you for what you truly were. She’d pull away, finally tired of the broken person she was holding. And she’d leave just like everyone else.

But she didn’t. She didn’t leave or pull away. Instead, Emily’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as if she could shield you from the darkness inside yourself. She held you so close you could feel her heartbeat, steady and strong against your own quick frantic pulse.

”Stop, please. Stop that right now”, she whispered. Her voice was thick with emotion, like she was about to cry too. ”You don’t have to be perfect for me to love you. You never have to be perfect. You’re enough just as you are. You’ve always been enough. What do I have to do to make you see that?”

Her words broke something inside you - something so deep, something you had buried a long time ago. The dam holding back your emotions finally shattered and you collapsed into her, your sobs shaking your entire body as you clung to her. Your tears dampened the fabric of her shirt but neither one of you cared at all. Emily’s arms didn’t falter as she held you closer than anyone had ever done before. Her hand stroked your hair gently, her lips pressed soft kisses on your temples. Her touch grounded you, keeping you from slipping away.

”I’m here”, she whispered softly into your hair, over and over again as if she hoped the more she said it the more of a chance she would have in making you believe it. ”I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.”

Slowly but surely, thanks to Emily, your sobs quieted and were replaced by the sound of your ragged breathing. Your head rested against Emily’s chest as you listened to her steady heartbeat next to your ear. It brought you so much comfort, anchoring you from the darkness you’d been drowning in. She held you for a long time, not letting go.

When you finally pulled back and wiped your tear-streaked face you felt lighter. The suffocating weight inside your chest had lifted just enough for you to feel like you could take a full breath again. You wiped your teary eyes, ashamed of how vulnerable you felt.

”Do you really mean it?” you asked, your voice small and shaky with embarrassment. It felt like a stupid question to ask but you needed to hear her say it. To make sure. ”That… that I’m enough?”

Emily cupped your face and you were met with her dark eyes full of love, so full of certainty that you felt stupid for doubting her for even a second.

”I’ve never meant anything more, my love”, she promised you as her thumb traced your bottom lip gently. ”You’re stronger than you think. And even on your worst days, you still deserve to be loved. Actually, especially on those days.”

Tears welled up again in your eyes but this time they felt different. They weren’t the sharp, painful kind that came with the weight of your shame. They were softer, warmer, a mixture of relief and gratitude. Relief that Emily was still here, that she hadn’t pulled away, and gratitude for the unconditional love she offered you, even when you couldn’t offer it to yourself.

Her fingers brushed softly against your skin and you leaned into her touch, so drawn to the safety that radiated from her. For just a moment you allowed yourself to believe in her words. It was hard, so incredibly hard to accept that you were worthy of this love, but you tried. You tried to let her love fill the cracks your self-doubt had formed.

Emily leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss on your lips that were stained with the tears that she hadn’t caught while caressing your face with her thumbs. The familiar feel of her lips against yours made you smile a little, for the first time today. Emily smiled too.

”We’ll get through this together”, she murmured against your lips as she pressed her forehead against yours. ”You’re not alone, okay? I won’t let the darkness swallow you, I’ll be here to bring you back every time. I promise. I’m with you, always.”

Her words wrapped around you like a protective blanket and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to believe them. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to carry this burden on your own. Maybe you didn’t have to be perfect in order to deserve love. Emily was here, still here, even when you were at your lowest, even when you couldn’t love yourself.

And for now, that was enough. You were enough.

[visionsofmagic]

let’s have a secret #gojo satoru & ryomen sukuna [mini-series]

“tell me love, what your heart desires? to fly in the sky or to dive in the deep ocean?”

synopsis: gojo satoru and ryomen sukuna – are rivals until the death. apart from some similarities – being egoistic, cocky, playboys, and having a cold manner when it is necessary, they had one thing in common; you.

tags: [in general] slow-burning, friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, clan mentioning, jjk au, female character, dilemma, complex feelings, arranged marriage, happening in modern times but clans still have their powers, curses exist, class problem, mature content. ✱ author’s note: I needed to leave this out of my chest because I have been thinking about writing & publishing this one for so long, and now we have ended jjk [:(], we need more & more stories to read from beautiful writers. hoping I will be one of them for you! this will be a mini-series, but let’s see where we are going. have fun & stay healthy!

opening. | episode 1. [upcoming]

     “You have to be joking!”

Closing your eyes for a second, you put your hands on your ears to lower the impact of Shoko’s screaming voice directed at your mother. She stayed silent and calm even when she could hear the disbelief in Shoko’s tone, and see your uncertainty about the whole situation.

“Shoko,” Your mother finally spoke, “Please calm down.” She looked at you, saying ‘calm down your friend’ in a non-verbal way yet you were in your world at the moment; thinking about how you had ended in this exact situation when you were having one of the best days of your life with Shoko and her two best friends one day ago.

Nevertheless, you held Shoko’s wrist, helping her to sit down beside you on the sofa, and smiling a little at how your friend was protecting you, unlike her character type. She was indeed your true friend. “Calm down, baby,” You said, “I know it’s hard to process but neither I nor mother are responsible for this.” You sighed, remembering what your father who rarely looked at you in the eyes said yesterday evening, at the dinner table. You remembered how he only left a few words, then ate his dinner, and vanished in thin air as if he didn’t leave a bombshell on the table right there. It took a few hours for you to understand what was going on entirely.

The first thing in the morning you did was call Shoko, telling them that you needed her, and she came shortly after. After you told her everything, she began to be angry, not understanding how you acted in this way; you were so calm and a bit naive. It was the opposite of your nature to stay calm and naive instead of leaving the house and not coming back until your father decided to do otherwise. You didn’t understand too, yet, you had to stay like that for the sake of your mother because she was also a victim of your father’s sudden decision, not knowing her husband would ever do it or hoping he wouldn’t do it. Here you were though, three of you sitting in the living room.

“So, since no one really asked the poisonous question,” Shoko began after a deep breath, “Who is it?”

You blinked, glancing at your mother, seeing her having the same expression as you did.

Shoko giggled awkwardly, finding it funny and waving her hand in the air, “Really?” She asked you, “You didn’t even ask who your father was talking about?”

You negatively shook your head, cursing to yourself because of how dumb you had become – why it was happening like this anyway? What made you numb to stay low? Or who – your brain asked, yet, the answer remained none. Only a glimpse of whiteness appeared behind your lashes, inside your brain, for a second and you couldn’t catch it. When you were about to deep into that, Shoko shook your body lightly, rolling her eyes as she said, “You are something else, aren’t you, y/n?”  

“Why?” You asked, sounding dumb enough to make your best friend laugh, and saying, “You exactly look like Gojo now, you know that?” under her breath.

Gojo.

Gojo Satoru.

Yes! – your mind screamed, yes, yes, yes – but yes to what? Yes, he felt close but you knew him only for a few months now, nothing more. What is happening?!

You got up suddenly, the whole room became blurry. Going out was the only thing in your mind ‘cause the house seemed to be overwhelming. “I need to go out.”

After giving an excuse for your behavior, you went to the garden. The voice of the door hitting echoed. It felt like you were escaping from your own thoughts, from the various voices in your head, to become steady again, to have enough consciousness to comprehend. You needed to be yourself again and act – you even didn’t know whether you would have an arranged marriage like your mother did or not. You knew she never had a chance to be free and it was clear that she didn’t want her daughter to end up like her even when she was glad because she had you – the most precious thing in her world. You loved your mother too, respected and never made her sad in any possible way. That’s why you were thinking of understanding your father’s offer instead of being straight-headed and doing what you would normally do; leave the house, continue to work and make it bigger, only visit your mother until your father realizes your confidence and determination.

“Pfff –“ You left a huffing, taking deep breaths, and stop thinking. Sometimes, when you were lost in your thoughts, you would stay alone and think aloud, letting the endless ideas go through your mind to the world around you, waiting for useless ones to vanish and only leaving important ones behind. “I really fucked up this time, didn’t I?” You said, walking around your small garden, eyes on the green of it; trees, flowers, and your two little cats playing with their mother under the shadow of the biggest tree’s branches. “How I would want to turn into a cat now.” You said, smiling at them. They always calmed you.

Kneeling down, you looked at the little kittens jumping in excitement and looking at your face with shining blue eyes. One of them was white while the other one was black; these discriminative features that they have inherited from their two colored mothers. Even though they were opposite, they looked like a puzzle; being in harmony when connected.

“You wouldn’t want that,” A voice be heard, making you jump with the cats. The wind tightened up, trees’ branches danced in rhythm, and cats’ ears rose in curiosity as they looked at the person behind you.

From the way they looked, you were curious about the person because his raspy and deep sound was – familiar?

Without standing up, you turned your head in the direction of the voice, and the moment you looked at – him, all the past memories came into your mind.

The man stayed cool, not seeing his effects on you just yet.

“Ryomen?”

“Greetings brat.”

to be continued.