#I should have the next chapter up at some point today

[lacydollette]

BLESSING IN DISGUISE — CHAPTER SIX

PAIRING rafe cameron x lovely kook!reader x jj maybank

WARNING(S) trauma, flashbacks, alcohol, mentions of drug abuse, verbal fights, rafe being a dick, suggestive content, explicit language, angst, slight fluff between reader and jj

SUMMARY after days of painful silence, with Rafe pulling away and you still drowning in the aftermath of the incident, the annual bonfire becomes the breaking point. unable to hold back any longer you confront him, but rafe’s cold, detached demeanor cuts deep, leaving your heart in pieces.

“Waah, john b stop!!” Sarah screeched as her boyfriend chased after her, running around the sand like little kids. Oh, they were so in love. jj was nursing on a half-empty beer bottle leaning back in the sand like he didn’t have a care in the world. Everyone looked relaxed, like the weight of the world wasn’t sitting on their shoulders.

Everyone except you.

You sat a little off to the side, poking at the sand with a stick, dragging lazy patterns that the waves would eventually wash away. Your head felt fuzzy, likeyou were watching everything through a haze, the sounds of Sarah’s giggles and crashing waves muffled and far away. You knew you should be here, should be present, but you weren’t . You were somewhere else—thoughts still messy after the incident with Nate a few nights ago.

Of course the lack of your usual sunshine smile and teasing behavior didn’t go unnoticed, reverting back to the pogues questioning you and asking if you were really okay. You weren’t. But somehow you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to them about it. Cause if you were to talk about it, you also had to talk about Rafe. And you couldn’t.

It wasn’t fair, but your brain kept circling back to him. The way he’d looked at you that night, torn between fury and guilt, like the whole thing was his fault. And maybe it was, in some sick and twisted way, but you couldn’t let yourself go there. Not again.

Suddenly jj’s smooth voice broke through your dissociative haze, “Yo, earth to y/n,” his laugh cutting through your spiraling thoughts like a knife. You blinked, looking up just in time to see him toss a beer to john b, who caught it with a slick motion. JJ’s grin was infectious, his whole face lighting up like he didn’t have a single worry in the world. For a second, you felt your lips twitch, almost smiling. Almost.

“You good over there, sunshine?” JJ asked, leaning back on his elbows to look at you, his blue eyes practically glowing under the late afternoon sun. “You’ve been, like, a hundred miles away all day.” You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just tired, I guess.”

JJ raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. He pushed himself up, brushing the sand off his hands as he scooted closer, closing the distance between you until he was right next to you. “Tired? Or, like, tired tired?”

“What’s the difference?” You asked, your voice coming out sharper than you meant it to. JJ didn’t flinch, though. He just tilted his head, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t figure out. His hand brushed against your knee—not in a creepy way, just JJ being JJ, always touchy, always close. And usually, you didn’t mind. But today, it made your skin prickle, like you were too aware of everything.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice softer this time. You forced a smile, knowing he wouldn’t let it go until you gave him something. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a huge fight with my parents yesterday. You know how it is.” JJ made a face, clearly skeptical but not wanting to push. “Parents suck,” he muttered, leaning back again. “Tell ‘em JJ Maybank says to chill out, or I’m coming over.”

That finally got a real smile out of you, small and fleeting, but real. JJ grinned, clearly proud of himself, before turning his attention back to sarah and john b. But even as the conversation shifted, as JJ joked and teased and kept the energy light, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being… disconnected.

It wasn’t just Nate, the incident or the weird distance you felt with your friends lately. It was Rafe.

You two hadn’t spoken since that night. Not a single text, not a glance, not even one of those tense run-ins you always seemed to have. He’d disappeared as quickly as he’d came, like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t held you while you were shaking, hadn’t promised to keep you safe.

It hurt. And while you had slowly tried to piece yourself back together, he had distanced himself from you further.

Rafe thought it was his fault—just like he thought everything was his fault. The fight at Midsummers, the way you’d both blown up at each other, the reason you were even out that night in the first place. In his mind, he’d set the whole thing in motion, and now he was punishing himself for it.

The images were haunting him at night, you, crumpled in the dirt, nates bloody face gasping underneath him. The fear in your eyes. And worst of all—himself, standing there, realizing it was all his fault. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. How it all traced back to him, like a sick domino effect.

He tried drowning his thoughts with the usual, alcohol and coke. It hit hard and fast, just how he liked it, but it didn’t do much to quiet the voice in his head—the one telling him that you’d be better off without him.

That was why he hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t tried to see you since that night. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to. God, he wanted to. Every time his phone buzzed, every time he heard a car door slam outside, his heart jumped, hoping it was you. But he didn’t deserve to see you.

Because this was just like before. Every time he got close to you, every time he let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he could be good enough for you, he proved himself wrong. He was like poison, toxic and consuming, dragging you down with him no matter how hard he tried not to.

So, he stayed away. He told himself it was for your own good, that he was doing the right thing, even if it felt like hell. But the silence was unbearable. And that’s why he was going in and out of every bar on the island—spending almost every night in places like that, drowning in alcohol, drugs, and meaningless noise. He thought maybe if he leaned into the chaos hard enough, he could lose himself in it. He thought maybe he could forget. But it wasn’t working.

He couldn’t stop picturing the way you’d looked at him that night—so broken, so fragile, but still trusting him enough to let him carry you home. The way your hands had trembled as you patched up his knuckles, comforting him while you were the one hurting.

The way you’d pulled back, hesitated, like you didn’t know if you could let him in again. And who could blame you? He’d screwed up too many times to count. He wasn’t sure why you’d ever let him in to begin with.

He hated himself for what had happened to you, hated himself for not being there sooner. But mostly, he hated that even after everything, some selfish part of him still wanted you.

Wanted to see you, to hold you, to tell you he’d do better this time—even though he didn’t know if he could. But that part of him was buried under the guilt, the anger, the deep rooted belief that he didn’t deserve you. That he never had. So, he stayed here in the dark, hiding between drinks and strangers, telling himself it was better this way.

For you. For both of you. Even if it was killing him.

the gravel crunched underneath your shoes as you walked to the annual bonfire, the kind of event that blurred the lines between Kooks and Pogues. It was the one night that made everyone forget the labels, at least for a little while. You were standing with the Pogues, tucked close to JJ as his arm casually looped around your shoulders. His warmth was comforting, familiar even, and for the first time today, you let yourself relax into it.

But no matter how hard you tried to focus on the moment—on JJ’s laugh echoing through the crowd or Kie’s attempts to roast a marshmallow without setting it on fire—your eyes kept wandering, scanning the crowd like your body couldn’t help but search for him.

Where is he?

You told yourself you were just curious. That’s all it was. But deep down, you knew better. It was like he’d vanished entirely, except you could still feel the weight of him pressing against your chest every time you closed your eyes.

And then you saw him.

Rafe was standing near the edge of the crowd, a bottle in one hand, the other shoved into his pocket. He looked the same but different—his jaw tense, his shoulders hunched like he was holding something back. And just then eyes caught yours across the fire, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Every part of Rafe screamed at him to stay away, to let you have the life you deserved, but when your pretty doe eyes pierced through his, the air was sucked from his lungs. For a moment, everything else disappeared—the music, the voices, even the ache in his chest. All he could see was you.

You felt your body temperature rise, cheeks burning up. The pull of him was undeniable. It always was. You needed to talk to him.

“I’m gonna grab a beer,” you mumbled to the group, pulling away from JJ’s arm. “I’ll come with you,” the blonde offered, his voice easy, like he didn’t notice the shift in you. “No, I’m good. Be right back.” JJ shrugged, distracted by Pope’s latest story, and you slipped away before anyone could stop you.

Your feet carried you in the direction of Rafe, each step faster than the last. By the time you found him, he was leaning against the side of a column. Yet you hesitated for a moment, nerves twisting in your stomach as you reached closer.

“Rafe,” you said, your voice cutting through the noise of the bonfire behind you. His eyes flicked to yours, forcing his features into something cold, detached, hoping it would keep you at arm’s length. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Why are you hiding out over here?” He let out a hollow laugh, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand. Your boldness had always disarmed him, even now. Especially now. “Not hiding. Just avoiding the circus.”

“Avoiding me, you mean.”

Rafe’s jaw tensed, his gaze dropping to the ground. Don’t do this. Don’t let her in, he thought. “Maybe you should take the hint.” His words hit like a slap, but you didn’t back down. “You don’t get to do this, Rafe. You don’t get to disappear and act like nothing happened.”The flash of hurt in your eyes nearly killed him, but he held firm. Better to push you away now, before he dragged you down with him.

“Nothing did happen,” he snapped, the lie lingering bitter on his tongue as he was still avoiding your eyes.

“What is your problem, Rafe?” you sighed, the frustration in your voice obvious. “One day you promise me that you’ll keep me safe, that you would stay by my side and now you can’t even look at me?”

Rafe laughed, but it wasn’t the kind you remembered. It was bitter, empty. “Look who’s talking. You seemed pretty cozy with jj back there.” He hated the words even as he said them, but he couldn’t stop himself. It was easier to let anger take over than to admit the truth—to admit he wasn’t strong enough to stay away from you.

Your mouth fell open, stunned by his accusation. “Are you serious right now? JJ’s my friend. He’s just—”

“Sure he is,” Rafe cut you off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He took a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “this is how you thank me? By fucking around with a Pogue?” Your chest tightened, tears burning at the edges of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. “Go to hell, Rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt.

But then you noticed it—the red rim around his eyes, the way his body trembled faintly like he was barely holding himself together. It wasn’t just the alcohol in his hand. He was using again, spiraling. But before you could say anything, JJ’s voice cut through the tension. “Hey! What the hell are you doing talking to her?”

You turned to see JJ storming toward you, his face dark with anger. He stepped between you and Rafe, his chest puffed out like he was ready to fight. “Back off, JJ,” Rafe said, his voice low but dangerous. “Or what?” JJ snapped, his fists clenching at his sides, “She’s with us now. Stay the fuck away from her.”

“y/n is not a damn possession,” Rafe snapped, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to decide who she talks to.”

“Oh, and you do?” JJ sneered. “At least I don’t fuck up everyone I get close to.” The words hit their mark. Rafe’s face darkened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He took a step closer, his voice trembling with barely-contained rage. “You don’t know anything about me, Maybank.”

“Yeah? I know enough,” JJ shot back. “Like how you treat everyone like shit, especially the people who actually care about you.” Rafe wanted to hit back, to make JJ feel even a fraction of the pain he carried every second. But then your voice cut through the chaos.

“Enough!” you shouted, stepping between them, trying to cut the tension between the boys while no one seemed to notice the rising tension between you and Rafe except Sarah, who was standing a little further away, her eyes narrowing as she watched the scene unfold.

Rafe turned his attention back to you, his face twisting with anger and something deeper—something like pain. “You don’t get it, do you?” he spat, his voice cracking. “You’d be better off without me.”He saw the way his words cut you, saw the way you fought to keep your composure, not being able to look away from him. But it was true. He couldn’t give you what you deserved. And the only way to protect you was to keep you as far away from him as possible.

“Let’s go,” JJ said, grabbing your arm gently but firmly. “He’s not worth it.” You let JJ pull you away, your mind spinning as Rafe’s words echoed in your ears. But as you glanced back over your shoulder, you caught one last glimpse of him—standing alone, his body stiff like he was trying to hold himself together.

Sarah was looking at you as you returned, her brows furrowed as she pieced everything together. You knew she’d ask questions later, but for now, you let JJ lead you back to the group, his warmth steadying you even as your heart ached for the boy you couldn’t seem to leave behind.

LINKS .ᐟ series’ masterlist

TAGS .ᐟ @gibson-g1rl @beausling @littlelamy @rafescokewhore @starkeysprincess @starzify @rafeysbunny @rafeslacy @whinyangel @dolcekissy @httpsdrewstarkey @cherrygirlfriend @drewspinkbunny @rafesangelita @drewspinkbunny @rafey-baby @cameronsprincess @maybanksbaby @nativegirltapes @lilithblackkk @maybankslover

[ssreeder]

Did I just binge read the entirety of LIAB over the last week in every moment of my free time? Yes. Am I caught up now? Yes. Do I never want this fic to end but also understand all good things eventually do? Also yes. Okayyyy but seriously though reedy my fucki g h e a r t oughhhh you're so talented I love every bit of this the torment the torture the detail bby gimme gimme more!!!!!! but also god let! them! kiss!!!!!!!!!! Also the way you write Jet like ooooh buddy that inner monolog is gonna be the death of you probably (most likely) Ngl I definitely have joined the Rasu fan club why is he so sweet help tbh I'd fall for his charms also thinking about what if he became friends with Reho I'd give our precious blabbermouth 2 minutes tops before Jee wants to murder him but Rasu takes him under his wing- introducing Smooth Talker 2.0 the tea shop couldnt handle all the new business. Ahhhhh there is so much more I could scream about this fic and probably will this is my first comment okayyyy ily byeeeeeee

(Still crying over Shen r.i.p. baby boy)

Omg please for Jee’s sanity do NOT put Reho in the teashop with him omg Jee would be on the first tram out of the city! Rasu is already on his nerves and the poor guy isn’t half as chatty as our man Reho lol.

Oh & not to mention Zuko is back so I’m sure Jees already gray hair will turn white from stress lol.

I’m really glad you’re enjoying liab it always makes me smile when I hear people are enjoying the story & all of the sad dark themes that go with it haha. Hopefully we get some happy times soon & YES! zukka kisses. They deserve it haha. <3

OH & I like that you enjoy Jet haha he is one of my favorites to write I love that chaotic flawed dude. He’s a mess I don’t wanna clean up

Thanks for the sweet ask :)

[h0neylevi]

Levi Month - Day 21 (Post-War: Children)

cw: canonverse/post-war, written with fem!reader in mind, suggestive sexual content, established relationship, mostly domestic fluff

word count: 857

“I found condoms in Falco’s room today.”

You peek over the top of your book to find Levi frowning in the bathroom doorway.

He had quietly retreated into the room several minutes ago for his usual nighttime routine, leaving you with the job of locking up and shutting off the lights. If relinquishing that task hadn’t been enough to clue you in that something was wrong, the familiar little scrunch of concern that is now etched between his eyebrows says everything. He’s worried.

Despite his obvious displeasure, the revelation still makes you smile. It isn’t the news necessarily–that isn’t as shocking to you as it apparently is to Levi. You’ve witnessed enough by accident of Gabi and Falco hurriedly pulling away from one another in the empty kitchen to know that something was going on.

But the second bedroom–first door on the left down the hall–is actually a guest bedroom. In the years since you and Levi have relocated and the restoration project began, a number of people have used it–Connie, Jean, Onyankopon, even you–but it seems that Levi has subconsciously deemed it Falco’s. It’s so like him to reveal his feelings in such an unintentional way. It’s cute.

You decide to tuck away that knowledge instead of antagonizing him for once and shrug.

“At least they’re being responsible,” you reply and return to your book.

Quietly, Levi crosses the room, a look of dissatisfaction still polluting his expression as he sinks onto his side of the bed.

“You’re not worried about it?” he asks.

You turn, meeting his concerned gaze with a sardonic tilt of your head. “Tell me you weren’t thinking about sex at his age.”

His lips purse slightly, and you know you’ve made your point when the tips of his ears begin to turn a faint shade of pink. “I wasn’t acting on it,” he says as if that makes any real difference.

You laugh. “Well, I think that was more because of your circumstances than anything else.”

He doesn’t say anything to refute what you say. Instead, Levi settles into his side of the bed, propped upright on the pillows next to you. With a slow sigh, his hand finds your thigh much like it does almost every night. It’s an idle touch, one that you’re not even sure he realizes he does anymore, but it still causes you to scoot closer, seeking out his warmth.

“That doesn’t mean they should be having sex. They’re kids,” he continues, seemingly still preoccupied with the topic. “Maybe we should talk to them.”

“Gabi and Falco are almost eighteen, Levi,” you point out, not looking up from your page. “I’m sure their parents have already had that kind of talk with them. Pretty soon they’ll have little ones of their own running around. And that’s what we fought for anyway, right? For people to live and fall in love. Have families, grow old.”

He doesn’t reply.

For a few minutes, you sit like this, absorbed in your book. Coaxed into comfort by the slow caress of Levi’s thumb on your skin. Some nights, Levi will read over your shoulder, and you think that’s what he’s doing again tonight, until–

“Have you ever thought about it?”

You don’t look up when you ask, “About what?”

“Having kids.”

Your eyes stutter on the page before freezing entirely. Any attempt to recall anything you just read is impossible, so you carefully bookmark your place at the end of the chapter and set the book aside.

Levi is already watching you when you turn, the expression in his one good eye now open and passive.

“I have,” you tell him slowly. “But never seriously. Never thought I’d get the chance to.”

He nods to assert he knows what you mean. It’s difficult to dream for a future when each day feels like it may be your last. It’s a feeling you’re both well accustomed to.

He keeps his gaze fixed and even in a way that makes your heart flutter. “And now?” he asks.

You swallow.

An implication sits in the air that you’re sure is intentional. You’ve been by Levi’s side as a comrade for almost a decade but as his partner for only a fraction of that time, only revealing your feelings a few months after the battle at Fort Salta. Thankfully, he had reciprocated.

And now, he’s asking if you want children with him.

Scenarios immediately flash through your mind. Ones of Levi holding a little boy with his eyes and your nose. Others of a little girl with both of her parents wrapped around her finger.

It conjures an indescribable feeling, but if you had to choose, you think joy might be the closest thing to it.

“I’d like that,” you finally say, eyes focusing on him once more. “But we’re not exactly young anymore. We’d have to start trying soon.”

There’s a small twitch of his mouth upwards–the tiniest of movements that you’ve come to recognize as the precursor to mischief. So when he reaches to pull you in for a kiss, you’re not surprised when he says, “We can start trying right now.”

[earlysunshines]

in a moment you and i

kim minji x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: minji has two side hustles, one of them is swinging around the city and saving people and the other is admiring you from afar. little does she know, you’re also admiring her -- not that you're aware of it.

warnings: minji is spiderwoman!! and really just a nerd under that suit ; a very pretty, oblivious, adorable nerd ; blood and violence ; pining, slowburn kinda ; ending is a lil rushed and pacing is wack imo (sooory) ; wtv else i didn’t mention

a/n: i think its funny how she's mj (minji) but spiderwoman in this anyways I kekeke lmao lol ijbol thinking ab her in those fuckass (adorable beautiful amazing lovely cute) black frames,,,

kim minji might just be one of the smartest students in her class — she’s also the sleepiest one these days.

she is two seconds away from falling asleep in class because some people can’t seem to go a second without breaking the law, and the only web-slinging person who can stop them is her.

why would anyone break into ador labs at two in the morning on a weekday? because of this, minji had to spring out of bed in the dead of night, battling a gang of thieves for nearly two exhausting hours. by the time she had webbed them to the wall, called the police, and swung back home, she only had three hours before she had to be up again.

she even got pestered by hanni for taking so long while she waited outside the house. the younger girl had to wait a few extra minutes because minji had woken up late, it’s not like she wanted to lose a few hours of sleep. when she explained to hanni why she had applied concealer on the walk to school (hanni had been the first to know about everything going on with her and why her hands were sticking to everything the day after her little spider incident), the younger girl nodded and relented.

minji’s eyelids grow heavier with each blink, and soon enough they don’t open again as she falls asleep on her palm. minji’s already caught up with this unit, it won’t hurt to sleep a bit anyway – just a few minutes.

a few minutes fades into twenty and her head falls to her forearm in the middle of her nap.

“right, that wraps up class for today everyone. chapter thirteen is your homework, we’ll have a small quiz next class on it.” mr. lee says right as the bell rings. he looks over to minji, sighing as everyone starts to pack their bags. “and someone please wake up minji.”

no one seems to hear him, no one but you.

you catch minji near the window in the second row from the front. her hair falls over her face and only her nose pokes out, but you can see a little bit of her eye from where you’re standing. the empty seat hints that danielle isn’t here today, usually she’d be the one to wake minji up.

“hey, i’ll catch up with you later, okay?” you say to jungwon, who smiles and nods before rushing out the class. 

mr. lee doesn’t seem to notice minji, too absorbed in something on his laptop and the papers scattered across his desk. you walk over and tap her once—no response. you try again, with the same result. finally, you lightly grip her shoulder and give her a gentle shake to wake her up.

"huh, what? danielle?" minji mumbles, sitting up and blinking slowly. she turns over, eyes still closed, and fixes her hair. when she finally opens her eyes again, she’s surprised to see you. her eyes widen slightly, and she feels a surge of nervousness. "oh, y/n."

“morning!” you grin, then point to the papers and folder on her desk. “you need help with those? the bell just rang.”

“did it?”

“yeah, a minute ago.”

minji sighs, fixing the black glasses she has on her face. you look at her, still, with a smile on your face and raised brows. 

“i don’t need help, you should get to class.”

“you sure? please, i insist.”

“i–” minji wonders if she’s still dreaming, the l/n y/n is offering her help and smiling at her – kim minji. 

ever since you two were first paired for a small project in eighth-grade science, she’s always felt giddy near you. in minji’s mind, you’re some angel from heaven. she has you on an imaginary pedestal that towers above the tallest buildings in the city. you’re on the tennis team, you volunteer, you’re smart, you’re in student government, and you’re so gorgeous that minji can’t think straight around you. 

unfortunately for her, half the school feels the same way, making you an unattainable fantasy. still, minji admires you from afar, blushing at the mere mention of your name and gushing about you to her friends, who never miss an opportunity to tease her about her obvious crush.

“um, yeah, thanks.” minji mutters, gulping as you begin to put her papers in a stack and place them in her folder neatly.

“danielle isn’t here today, is that right?”

“u-um, no.”

“aw, that’s a shame.”

minji tries her best to stay sane in your presence, putting all her attention on the psychology textbook that she’s shoving in her bag. “mhm.” 

you hand minji her blue folder adorned with various stickers she’s collected and she takes it nervously. you smile one more time, placing a hand on her shoulder and she think she might blow up. 

“you should get more sleep.”

“yeah, definitely.” 

“i’ll see you around, bye minji.” you wave your hand and turn to leave, minji’s lips part as she stays stuck in place, trying to regain her composure.

–

“dude, you have like– three classes with her. are you ever going to make a move or…?” 

hanni’s voice is small and faint as she looks at you from across the lobby. the bell has just rung, and everyone is free to leave, but hanni and minji always wait for their two underclassmen they’ve basically adopted to hang out after school.

“hm?”

the younger girl groans, “c’mon, we’re seniors! just stop thinking and go do something! you’ve liked her for years.”

“she’s probably not even gay! she’s always with jungwon…”

“they look like friends to me.” hanni crosses her arms and looks over at you. you’re in a little group with jimin, ningning, and wonyoung, conversing with them and giggling here and there. “she’s not even with jungwon right now.”

“that’s– oh my god, be real.” minji sighs, then turns away to look at hanni dead in the eye. “i unironically take pictures for the yearbook and am in the book club. i don’t know, i’m not eye catching or known or fucking drool worthy.”

“girl, change that then!”

hyein and haerin walk over to the upperclassmen to see them bickering again. hyein butts in, stepping into minji’s personal space. “what’s the argument this time?”

“minji’s lovergirl.”

“ahhh, i’ll pay you ten dollars if you ask her out.”

“i’m not taking your money hyein.” minji pinches the bridge of her nose, then starts to trudge away. “let’s go, it doesn’t matter. i’m hungry and i have less than an hour before i need to start editing the layout for the yearbook.”

the group starts to walk out the entrance, but not before minji gets teased and grilled again. little does minji know, you’re glancing at her the whole time. your eyes follow her as she rolls her eyes and playfully punches hanni in the shoulder. for some reason, the corners of your lips turn up in a smile.

–

a few days later, minji finds herself battling an idiot who decided to scale the side of the ador building. civilians are screaming, and some are injured, but minji swiftly moves them to safety. 

the culprits wield various weapons, forcing minji to dodge bricks left and right. pieces of debris fly at her, nearly hitting her limbs, and she ends up with a small cut on her cheekbone. 

she manages to fend off two of the three culprits, webbing them against a broken wall while dealing with the last one. this guy has good aim and manages to throw a huge piece of the building at her leg, making her wince in pain.

shit, that’s going to bruise. 

minji grunts as she catches the piece of the building that had hit her – mid air with her web – and flings it back at the man, hitting him right in the torso and knocking him out. 

she slings her web toward the building and leaps, sticking herself to the wall. she takes a few moments to recover, pressing a finger to her face and feeling the blood trickle from the small cut. minji sighs, wiping her face before webbing the criminals together in a way that will make the police's job easier.

(even if they’re not very fond with spiderwoman.)

minji has a sharp sense of awareness; her reflexes and attention to the smallest details give her a kind of sixth sense. still, she doesn’t notice you observing the whole scene from afar.

you had been in the building next door for tennis practice but immediately stopped when you heard the commotion. seeing the vigilante in blue made your jaw drop and your eyes shine with admiration. the way spiderwoman handled the situation left you more than just amazed. you found it incredibly intriguing how she could swing around and fight so fluidly.

“woah.” you say in awe, eyes following spiderwoman as she swings away.

“you’re obsessed with her,” jungwon sighs, “but holy shit that was crazy.”

“she’s so cool.”

“doesn’t your dad… hate her?” he questions, making you bite your lip.

your dad was one of the higher-ranking officers in the police force, so everything spiderwoman did reached you through him—just in a more negative light. he’d complain about the “messes” and “damage” she left behind, and you had to hold yourself back from defending her. you found spiderwoman endearing, considering she put her life on the line and was probably a normal person with responsibilities and things to do, yet she took the time to protect others.

of course, your father had the same goals: protecting the city, safeguarding the people, and creating a safer community. he did his best to achieve this, often catching criminals with his impressive skills, but his idea of fighting crime never really aligned with spiderwoman’s methods. you seemed to favor spiderwoman’s actions a little more, considering you’d put much more threatening people down and your dad was always holding some grudge. he’s just too stubborn to understand, really.

“it’s whatever, i mean, can he do that?”

“okay but he’s a cop y/n. spiderwoman is literally some unknown person with powers that could harm others if she decides to go rogue.”

“why do you always think about the bad?” you groan, then return to the court. you grab a tennis ball, bouncing it up and down before catching it. “she’s doing a lot, all she’s done is help the cops ever since she’s been public to the eye. it’s not her fault journalists are trying to shame her. you sound like my dad… gross.”

jungwon scoffs amusingly, “if your dad knew how you really felt… i’d love to watch that unfold.”

“shut up, why are you invested in my dad’s beef with spiderwoman and not getting a boyfriend.”

“and when are you going to stop fangirling over a masked woman that can shoot webs out her wrist.”

you throw the tennis ball in your hand up, then swing aggressively, catching jungwon off guard and making him jump to the side. he looks at you with a confused expression, you simply shake your head.

“let a girl do what she wants.”

-

minji shows up to school sore and there’s a bandage on her cheek from the night before. she groans as she sits next to hanni in their english class, leaning against her for support.

“dude, what the hell is up with you.”

“a piece of building and fighting for half an hour that’s what.”

“oh.” hanni hums, “sorry to hear.” 

“it’s your fault.”

“hey!” hanni frowns.

hanni is one to experiment, and a month ago her victim had been a spider. she had tested various methods of enhancing the spiders abilities and modifying its dna to create an adhesive for the science fair, and unfortunately for minji, the spider had escaped and bit her. minji simply wanted to find a few beakers for her own experiment, the last thing she expected was a spider biting her hand and the next day she didn’t need glasses, her body was toned, she could lift her bed up with a hand — and the worst surprise was her fingers were sticking to everything she picked up.

“well, if you had been more careful…”

“don’t turn this around.” minji sighs, closing her eyes and trying to rest a bit.

her eyes are still closed when she hears a familiar voice that makes her heart flutter, opening them when you start to converse with wonyoung.

“my mom works at ador, i can’t believe spiderwoman had saved her…” wonyoung says.

“really? she did?” you look at her, itching for more details.

“yeah, she almost fell to the ground and spiderwoman saved her.” she repeats.

“wow… im glad she’s okay! oh my gosh, your mom is so lucky, im glad spiderwoman was there.”

minji turns to look at you, fighting back a smile. she is?

“i’d love to be saved by spiderwoman, she seems so cool… like, imagine willingly saving people and whatnot. she must be such great person, right?”

you watch wonyoung shrug, then sit down at her desk. you sit down next to her and she starts to take her folder out her bag before adding, “i mean, probably. she saved my mom, she’s a hero in my eyes.”

“she’s so cool…” you sigh dreamily, minji can’t believe it. “the way she fights is like, oh my god, so sick. i can’t believe she’s real, she’s out of this world.”

you, y/n, are talking highly of spiderwoman. that basically means you’re gushing about her, right? minji blinks three times, fully waking up after the third, and smiles to herself. 

wonyoung snickers, “sounds like you have a crush on spiderwoman.”

“stop that! she’s just… ugh.” you roll your eyes and nudge wonyoung. “she’s so admirable, i wish more people would see her as a hero, you know? she’s only done good so far, all the damage and stuff like that only happened because of the people she fought.”

minji might die – her heart feels like it's about to burst. you're on the same wavelength as her, defending spiderwoman, and you admire her too. the way you smile while talking about her alter ego makes minji feel giddy inside. hanni notices, rolls her eyes, and sets her head down on the desk, trying to catch a few extra minutes of sleep while minji revels in the feeling of being in love. hanni might barf.

wonyoung smiles at you, raising her brows. “you’re a fan.”

“maybe.” you admit, looking at the board in front of you. “she’s so cool, that’s all.”

–

minji’s sat outside in the courtyard looking through the pictures she had taken for the archery team. there’s a variety of shots that capture their activities, highlighting their form and bullseyes, and there are a few group pictures in the mix as well.

her eyes are squinting as she looks through them, so focused on the photos that she doesn’t notice someone calling her name.

"hey, minji," you call out, but she’s still hunched over, intently focused on her camera. you walk over, and she doesn’t notice you, too absorbed in adjusting the settings. gently, you grab the front of her cap and turn it around, making it sit backward on her head. startled, she looks up from the camera in her hand to see you. "hi," you greet again, a smile spreading across your lips.

minji’s cheeks flush. “hi, hey. did you need something?”

“yeah, i just wanted to ask a favor.” 

“oh, of course, what was it?”

you sit down next to her and she feels herself stiffen up. you smile at her and lean against the table behind you. “well, i was wondering if you could help take pictures for the tennis team? we have a practice and game coming up so i figured they’d be good on the yearbook. also, jungwon wanted to ask you to help him promote a fundraiser he wants to set up.”

“he did?”

you nod, “jungwon’s been planning this for a while, we’re trying to set it up and do a bake sale of some sort.”

“i’m down, but i’m booked for this week. a lot of people have been asking around, and my friends have priority, you know.”

a giggle slips from your lips and you point to her camera. “well, who wouldn’t ask you? you’re the best photographer here, last years yearbook was amazing because they switched heeseung out for you.”

“you think?”

“i know.”

minji stops for a second, it feels like she’s being squeezed and the way you look at her makes her heart beat a little faster. 

“t-thanks.” minji hates the small stutter in her response and the way she avoids your gaze. “i can um, arrange something next wednesday for the tennis team. for jungwon’s fundraiser maybe the same week, what was it for anyway?”

"we’re trying to raise money to support others in places that don’t have equal care for the lgbtq+ community!" you explain excitedly. minji freezes up again. we? no, maybe you're just an ally; minji can’t just assume. you're really sweet, kind, and a great person, but that doesn’t mean you're gay just because you want to help others.

“that’s wonderful.” 

“mhm, and especially with so many people getting hurt these days, it worries me how people in my own community deal with unequal healthcare, you know?”

minji tilts her head, then says, “wait, your community?”

you look at her with confusion all over you. “yeah! mine. minji, you know im… a lesbian, right?”

fireworks explode, people are cheering, and minji smiles before quickly suppressing it. "oh," she says, then pauses, realizing how flat her response sounds. she nearly drops her camera as she raises a hand in defense, shaking it and stuttering, "i-i mean, it's not a bad thing! obviously, i mean, i'm gay, er—i'm a lesbian too. i think it's great that you care so much about this. it's great. yeah, i'll prioritize the shoot for you."

she looks adorable, cheeks flushed and her glasses sliding down her nose. you push them up with your finger and minji clenches her jaw. 

“great.” you say softly, then narrow your eyes at her. “well, i have to get going for practice. thanks again, you’re the best minji.”

she nods and grips the camera in her hand a little tighter, watching you walk away, then turn around for a brief moment to add,

“you look really good with your hat like that, by the way.” the way it slips off your tongue, the way you smile once more and walk away, leaves minji feeling like she’s near cardiac arrest.

–

minji’s at a mall on a weekend, not to shop or hangout with her friends, but because people think it’s a good idea to try and commit crimes in broad daylight.

they’re not just normal, stupid shoplifters either; they’re far from it – near villains. the men she’s fighting have weapons, and they’re raiding various tech stores, causing chaos as people run around screaming. the scene is a mess, with extensive property damage, and minji wonders how it will ever get fixed.

she fights four men in the apple store, they chuck phones at her in hopes of slowing her down, but really, it’s just putting good phones to waste. she jumps up on the ceiling, catching them by surprise, and takes them down one by one from where she is. they’re not difficult to fight, minji had alrieady figured from the whole phone throwing part, so thankfully there’s isn’t a single scratch on her.

a few more stores are terrorized and minji manages to capture at least ten more culprits, webbing them together or sticking them to a wall for the police to find red-handed. she’s left with a few bruises by then, but nothing too brutal.

minji catches sight of two men in the corner of her eye running toward the metro stop that connects to the mall. she quickly follows, weaving past civilians and using her webs to launch herself ahead, closing the distance faster. she watches as the two men jump the entrance gate to the station. not only did they destroy a decent part of the mall, but they didn’t even bother to pay for the metro. they could’ve at least bought a day pass, she thinks wryly.

by the time she gets passed the entrance (she didn’t pay either, but in her case it’s to stop crime) and finds herself at a rough stop.

there are three metro lines: red, blue, and yellow – after getting down the stairs there are three directions that they could’ve gone, and minji doesn’t have time to check every place considering the metro comes and goes.

she’s stuck, the only thing she can do is pick one and pray that she’ll find them.

that’s what she thinks at least, until she hears a woman screaming for help in the direction of the red line. minji swings towards it almost immediately, using her enhanced agility and power to get there as fast as she can. 

when she reaches the platform, her eyes widen.

the two men hold you, your arms are restricted and you’re desperately trying to squirm out their grasp. minji immediately feels anger bubbling up inside of her, watching the way the men smile at her.

“let her go.” minji warns, stepping closer.

"how about you relax, spiderwoman? put your hands up, and the girl will be perfectly fine," one of the men sneers, pulling out a dagger and holding it against your neck. your head tilts up, desperately trying to avoid the blade, and your breath shakes as you freeze in place. "wouldn't want to hurt such a pretty little thing, hm? she is one of the captain's daughters, isn't that right?" the man adds, smiling at you disgustingly.

“fuck you.” you curse through gritted teeth. “ugly bitch.”

the man presses the flat side of the dagger against you, the frigid feeling of the material makes you gasp. 

you seemed to have been browsing around the mall, considering the casual outfit you have on, but now, you’re in danger. minji looks at you worried, unable to process much from just seeing you being held back like that. you look at her with upturned brows, scared out of your mind but also worrying just as much for spiderwoman.

minji sighs quickly, there’s others around as well, she can’t risk causing a scene in such a tight space with so much risk of making things worse. she puts her hands up slowly, you widen your eyes.

“fine, i won’t budge. just take that blade away from her, now.” minji says.

the man laughs, and so does his little partner in crime. “what, this blade?” he uses the dagger to tilt your head to the side to face him, then grins. “i wouldn’t do a thing to such a beauty.”

you fight back a retort, opting to shut yourself up for the time being. the man puts his hand down, taking away the blade from your throat.

“let her go.” minji orders, looking at you being held back. “she didn’t do anything.”

his partner snickers, then looks at you amusedly before looking back at minji. “you just stay there and we’ll see what happens to–”

before he can answer, you manage to kick him in the back of his knee, throwing him off balance and making him stumble. this gives you a quick opportunity to break free from one man's grip and swing your free hand at the other. you successfully land a blow on the man with the dagger, striking his jaw, but the impact hurts your knuckles, making you inhale sharply.

the men recover as you step away from them, eyeing you angrily.

“you little–”

before they can grab you again, you feel something sticking to your back. you’re being pulled backwards and feel an arm wraps around you. turning over, you see spiderwoman up close and in person. the eyes on her mask narrow as she looks at you, then asks, 

“are you okay?”

you gulp, then breathe hard. “yeah, yes.”

“good, stay put.” she says. 

you watch as she runs toward the man you had kicked, delivering a punch to his jaw and another to his stomach, making him fall back with a groan. he lays on the ground, clutching his belly, unable to get up after just two hits. the other man, now frightened, clutches his dagger. you watch as spider-woman slings a web at his chest, pulling him toward her, and then punches him right where you did.

you’re amazed, to say the least—until the man somehow manages to swing his dagger at spiderwoman’s upper forearm, leaving a deep cut. your eyes widen in horror as blood seeps out onto the floor.

she gasps in pain as the man attempts to swing at her shoulder, but she quickly throws him to the ground before he can and shoots a web at his hand, making the dagger fall in the process.

ignoring the pain for a moment, minji traps the men on the dirty platform floor by webbing their limbs to the ground. she kicks the man who had the dagger in the crotch for good measure. people cheer in amazement, applauding her efforts.

however, minji’s too distracted by the sharp pain from the cut, and that you’re watching.

she turns to see you appalled, walking over to look at her wound closer.

“you’re– spiderwoman, you’re hurt.”

“it’s not much,” she lies, shaking her head. “just a scratch.”

“no, no it’s not don’t lie to my face.” you grab her wrist without warning, and even though she’s spiderwoman at the moment – not kim minji, the girl who can barely make eye contact with you for more than five seconds – she’s momentarily distracted by the pain and blushing. “i– are you able to swing places?”

“um, i guess?” the confidence she’s built for this alter ego has completely washed away in your presence. “what are you–”

before she can finish, you fish for a handkerchief in your bag and tie it around the bleeding cut. minji doesn’t respond or say anything because a second later you’ve grabbed her hand and started running away from the red line platform. civillians watch, but none follow.

you turn to her for a split second as you speed through the corridors to ask, “do you know where hybe highschool is?”

“yes,” minji says breathily, “excuse me, y/–” she catches herself before exposing the fact that she knows you. “miss, what are you–”

“take me there, you can swing me, can’t you?”

the handkerchief does wonders, or maybe it’s just you. spiderwoman nods. “yeah, yes.”

in a rush of boldness, minji grabs your waist and holds onto you tight, shooting a web up at the ceiling to get the two of you up the big escalator in two seconds, then finds the nearest exit and has you two outside in no time.

“hold on tight, okay? it can be a little scary.”

“i like the thrill, it’s okay.” 

minji pauses, catching her breath. “you’re interesting,” she says, then shoots a web at the nearest building. she jumps up, swinging the two of you through the urban jungle, the city blurring around you as minji finds the quickest route to her school with you clinging onto her.

–

when the two of you reach the school, it’s closed and abandoned since it’s a saturday. why would anyone be on the campus during their off day? in this case, it’s because a pretty girl has led spiderwoman back for a reason she hasn’t even said yet.

minji needs to get a grip.

“follow me,” you say quickly, then grab her hand and run towards the south entrance where the main office and clinic are. ““if you’re ever hurt, just remember this.”

the doors aren’t open, but you pull out a keycard from under the mat that unlocks it. 

you lead her past the office and towards the clinic, which is empty. minji lets you sit her down – you’re too in your head to consider the fact that spiderwoman is sat down with no word uttered because she had simply let you do so – and watches you shuffle around the storage to find a first aid kit, cloth, a bucket, and a bottle of distilled water.

“what are you doing?”

“you have a really deep cut in your forearm, it’s not safe to just let it go.”

“i could’ve seen a doctor.”

you scoff, then sit down next to her. “they’d ring the police immediately, you know my dad is a captain? everyone there hates you.”

“oh.”

"yeah, oh." you grab her forearm, unwrapping the handkerchief and cringing at how much blood has soaked through. "jesus christ." you hold her forearm above a bucket, pouring water over the wound to rinse it off. then you grab a soft cloth with disinfectant to clean around the area. the sting makes minji groan. "sorry," you apologize.

"it’s fine," she says quietly, watching you clean around the wound with an alcohol wipe. minji bites back more sounds of pain—for your sake, of course.

the rest of the time you treat her, it's silent. thankfully, the cut isn’t severe enough to need stitches. you apply a thin layer of ointment to the wound, then cover it with gauze, wrapping it securely around her forearm to keep it in place. you rub your thumb over the gauze, then look up at spiderwoman.

“does it hurt less?”

“yeah,” she says, looking down at her treated cut. “thank you.”

“it’s nothing.”

“why did you do it?”

“why not?” you shrug, packing up the equipment you used. “you’re spiderwoman.”

“you just said the police hate me.”

“they do.”

“your dad is a cop.”

“you’re smart,” you grin at her teasingly as she points out the obvious. “he is.”

minji sighs, unable to read you at all. “you don’t hate me?”

“i don’t have any reason to. most of the time you do their job better, you help out with the more… serious crimes. if anything, i think you’re a hero.”

that manages to shut spiderwoman up, so you continue, putting the first aid kit away in the cabinet. then you grab the blood and water mixture and pour it down the sink. you rinse the bucket and place it on the ground before tossing the empty water bottle into the trash.

minji cannot believe any of this happened. you, the prettiest, sweetest girl in the school that she’s been head over heels for since grade eight, have managed to drag a vigilante five minutes away to your school and treat her.

“how are you so good with stuff like this?” minji questions, watching you wash your hands. 

“my aunt is a nurse.” you dry off your hands with a paper towel, then turn to look at her. “she taught me a fair amount.”

of course you know how to treat a wound, you’re good at everything, minji thinks.

“thank you…?”

“y/n,” minji already knows that, and you saying it is like choir bells ringing. “my name is y/n.”

“right, thank you y/n.”

“mhm.” she watches you fix your black t-shirt and jeans, then grab a small bandaid from the drawer nearby. you look in the mirror and lift your head up, turning to the side to place the bandaid on a small cut that minji didn’t notice before.

“he hurt you?”

“‘just a scratch,’” you mock her words from earlier. “he just grazed me, it’s bleeding a little now though.”

“you’re okay, right?”

“kind of traumatized but i’ll be fine.” you say, brushing it off like it’s nothing. minji is seriously attracted to everything about you. “i’m glad you’re okay.”

“i should be the one saying that.”

“i’m okay, spiderwoman. all because of you.”

minji tries to respond, but her throat dries up. she watches you smile at her, feeling her heart do a little flip in her chest. she wonders what she can do in return, then perks her head up as an idea forms in her mind.

“i can drop you back off at home, it’s getting late,” you offer, though it’s only five o’clock in the afternoon. despite the early hour, minji finds herself wanting to spend more time with you. behind the mask, she feels a bit more confident talking to you, knowing you think highly of her from what you’ve overheard. “you like the thrill, right?”

“you’re a good listener.”

“i guess so.”

“i’d love to get home via spiderwoman, uber’s are pricey these days.”

minji laughs softly and the pain in her arm fades away momentarily.

–

you’re bombarded the next day by your friends and some other people you’ve only talked to a few times in your (almost) four years of being in the school. they all question the same thing, everything is related to what happened between you and spiderwoman because of some pictures going around on the internet.

the people you don’t know all too well all question your experience, but your friends are asking if you’re okay or severely injured.

jungwon acts as a bodyguard, shooing away everyone who isn’t in your circle and tilting your head up to examine the bandaid on your neck.

“is your throat okay?”

“it’s nothing, just a little worse than a papercut,” you assure, but wonyoung makes a face.

“papercuts are terrible y/n,” she groans, “are you sure you’re fine?”

“it’s nothing. spiderwoman saved me before i could do anything, i’ll tell you more, let’s just get to class?”

“you’re sure you’re–” 

“wonyoung, it’s a scratch. it’s nothing.”

–

after school, you’re typically at tennis practice or helping out with student government activities. you usually get home around four or five, either sweaty from practice or burnt out from your responsibilities. normally, you arrive before your dad and aunt. your dad’s demanding schedule rarely allows him to rest, and your aunt’s schedule is worse considering she’s a nurse, so you’re usually home alone for a bit.

that’s not the case this time.

you close the door behind you, then turn to see your dad leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. your aunt looks at you, clearly tense.

“oh, you’re both home.” you set your jacket on the little hook in the door. “what’s up…?” the way your dad looks at you makes you stiff, his jaw tightens and he looks angry. he’s rarely ever angry at you, and your aunt seems worried. “did something happen?” you ask.

“how about you explain to me why i’m finding out today,” he steps away from the counter, walking towards you and continuing, “that my daughter crossed paths with that vigilante.”

“spiderwoman?”

“y/n, i thought you knew better.”

your shoulders sink and you sigh, “she’s not as bad as you paint her out to be.”

“she could be, she’s dangerous.”

“dad!” you scoff, shaking your head. “are you dense? if she hadn’t been there, my throat would’ve been sliced.”

“or maybe you wouldn’t have been in that situation at all. you realize those men used you to get spiderwoman to surrender? because of her i almost lost my only daughter.”

your aunt simply hums, then nods. “i’m sorry but… your dad has a point.”

“you’re agreeing with him too?” you groan, “dad, regardless of what could’ve happened, what did happen was that spiderwoman saved me. can’t you see that?”

“y/n, think about what could happen in the long run, listen to your dad. look, i know you’re frustrated, but your dad is also my older brother, he’s always known what’s best.”

“all that spiderwoman can bring is danger to you, don’t follow her antics.”

you stare at both of them, baffled and almost offended. you could’ve died, and they’re still ungrateful for spider-woman’s efforts. you bite the inside of your lip, struggling to hold back the urge to lash out. your dad sends you a small warning look, silently reminding you to keep your composure. scoffing, since it's the only outlet for your frustration, you storm down the hall to your room, deciding to avoid them for a while.

once you close the door, you flop down on your bed and close your eyes.

various emotions come rushing to you, only fuelign the fire of resent towards your dad in the moment.

he’s been so uptight since your mom passed when you were young, becoming increasingly protective and closed off. he pushes you to be better but restricts you from so many things. it’s as if he wants to hide you from the world, only exposing you to what he deems right. his selfishness and narrow-mindedness infuriate you. his biased views feel like chains holding you back and making you angrier.

your aunt has been with you for a while now, and she understands you the most. she gets your moods, motivations, and knows you like the back of her hand. despite everything, she sides with your dad – you feel some sort of betrayal.

your father isn’t a bad guy, but being mad at him makes you forget that for a bit.

“he doesn’t know shit,” you mutter, “spiderwoman isn’t danger.”

sitting up again, you stare at the floor as you recollect yourself.

you groan again, feeling cramped up in the room. your thoughts feel like a stormy cloud over your head and the thought of being in the same living space with your dad only frustrates you more. 

quickly, you grab your phone and keys, rushing out your room and down the hall. your aunt and dad stop conversing momentarily as they watch you unlock the door.

“what do you think you’re doing y/n?” your dad questions, watching you closely. you don’t respond, instead sending him a small look before opening the door, and he seems to lose it. “where the hell are you–”

his wrist is restrained and tugged at as you exit the apartment. your dad looks back to see your aunt – his sister – holding him back. she shakes her head and stops him, softly saying, “don’t, just let her.”

“i can’t just–”

“you’re so uptight, just let her be. she’s overstimulated and needs some time.”

he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back at the door. his body relaxes, almost going limp as he sits down next to your aunt. “i’m just worried for her.”

“she’ll be fine, just take it easy. i’m worried about her too.”

–

you’ve made it a few blocks away with no idea in mind. you don’t have your wallet or anything, just a heavy heart and clouded mind – and after hearing your stomach rumble, almost an empty stomach too.

it’s still busy during the late evening. people are making their way home after staying late at work, families of three or four linger together, and friends eat ice cream on the benches. you’re trying to find a place that brings you peace. the nearby bookstore, the same one you grew up visiting, pops into your head. it never fails to bring you relaxation, a sort of sanctuary to you.

one more block and you’ve turned to meet the entrance of the bookstore, it closes in less than an hour – that’s more than enough time to cruise around. stepping inside you’re met with the strangely nice smell of books, a small smile forms on your lips.

you make your way over to the graphic novels, sliding your fingers along the spines as you walk through. you’ve already read most of them, and tonight's mood doesn’t really call for this type of reading. the next section you visit is where your favorite poems and literature are found. you scan the shelves closely before picking out a small book filled with a collection of poems you haven’t seen before. flipping through it, you read every other page, admiring the works.

you grab another book before heading to your favorite spot, the little corner away from the shelves near the window. 

what you don’t expect to see is someone in your usual spot, slumped against the wall, sleeping with a book in their hand. you squint your eyes as you catch sight of the person, then look closer, realizing it isn’t just anyone: it’s minji.

minji’s always been alluring in your eyes, not just physically but her as a person drew you in a bit. she’d always stumble on her words and had this weird, adorable charm to her with every interaction. plus, she was smart and sweet, but you never had the chance to talk to her as much as you’d like to – even if you were to, you were always a little nervous yourself. seeing her now, she looks especially cute, reminding you of how she makes your heart beat slightly faster everytime you see her.

she’s in a black hoodie and jeans, breathing slowly with her head angled down and her lips slightly parted. her glasses are almost at the tip of her nose and her hair is tied up in a casual bun. you’ve always caught her sleeping in class at least twice a week from afar, you never realized how pretty she looked up close.

you hesitate, unsure whether to wake her or not. glancing down at your phone to check the time, you decide you’ll wake her before the store closes.

to pass the time, you continue to read, marvelled at certain pieces and snapping pictures here and there. this lasts twenty minutes, you almost forget about the time, but minji crosses your mind as you read a certain poem and it prompts you to check your phone and look back at the girl.

you shake her lightly, hearing her groan despite not budging. you squeeze her shoulder and she still doesn’t wake up, so you opt to pinch her cheeks, which stirs her awake.

“hm?” she mutters, blinking a couple times. 

“morning minji.”

“y/n, hi, what– how did you get here? what time is it…”

she hears you giggle before responding, “the place closes in ten minutes. i usually read in this space but when i came over i saw you sleeping, so i just stayed close until it got late.”

“you did?” you stayed by minji while she slept, how crazy is that? minji pushes her glasses up. “thank you for waking me up.”

“it’s nothing, but we should probably head out before they kick us out.”

“yeah, that sounds good.”

minji follows you towards the section where you got the book you were reading. she watches as you carefully put the book back in its place, and then you lead her out of the bookstore, saying goodnight to the staff sweetly and waving. minji can only smile and admire until you’re both outside.

you look both ways, then your stomach rumbles. your cheeks warm up and you embarrassingly mumble, “sorry, i haven’t eaten yet.”

“you haven’t?” minji questions.

“no. i’ll eat later, i don’t have my wallet on me.”

“but your stomach just rumbled, you should really eat.”

“it’s whatever.”

“no,” minji shakes her head, then looks at you seriously. “it’s not whatever, let me buy you something.” she says, a little shocked that she even had the confidence to say that. “you need to eat.”

“it’s fine, i–”

“come on, let’s go. the convenience store is at the end of the block.”

“i don’t have my wallet minji.”

“i’ll pay.”

“you’re not paying for me.”

“yes i am. do you want those pictures or…?” minji smirks slightly and you surrender because it makes you feel oddly nervous and warm inside.

“fine.” you respond, shoulders sinking as minji starts to walk in the direction of the convenience store. 

the two of you make your way inside, wandering around and browsing the cheaper options. minji grabs a packet of ramen and some green tea, while you find a chicken sandwich and peach tea. after being rung up by the cashier, you head towards the area to prepare minji’s ramen. as you glance at the food in your hands, you feel a pang of guilt, knowing she bought it for you.

minji’s pouring hot water into the bowl while you speak, “i’ll pay you back.”

“it’s nothing, don’t.”

“stop, i will.”

“don’t.” minji shrugs, then uses a chopstick to stir the noodles around. she puts a sauce packet in and mixes again, then looks at you with a small smile. “it’s nothing, seriously. i haven’t eaten dinner yet either, your company is enough.”

“is it?”

she finds herself blushing a little. “um, yeah, yes.”

“oh.” your lips start to turn up. “yours is great too.”

minji turns back to the bowl of ramen because she’s a little embarrassed, but also because her dinner is finished. 

the two of you sit at the counters inside the store and start to eat. it’s silent for a while, but there’s nothing wrong with that. you feel happy just being next to her, and the sandwich tastes better than usual.

“why didn’t you eat before?” minji asks you while you’re still chewing. 

you take a moment to swallow before answering, “i kind of… ran away for a bit.”

“you snuck out?”

“no, my dad saw me leave. i think my aunt held him back.”

“oh.” minji looks away from you and out the window. “did something happen?” she starts, but stops herself soon after. “i mean you don’t have to tell me of course, i was just curious.”

“it’s fine, my dad and i got into a little disagreement, that’s all.” you see, a little bothered by it in minji’s eyes, but she doesn’t push further. you take a sip of your tea and turn to look at minji. “how long were you at the bookstore?”

“oh, um.” she laughs nervously. “i was reading for half an hour, then fell asleep. you woke me up a few hours after.”

“you were asleep for hours there?”

“only two!” she quickly defends, making you giggle. “i’m just… tired these days.”

you scoff playfully. “doing what?” 

minji pauses, trying to formulate an answer. “sleep problems?” it comes out unsure and more like she’s questioning herself. she coughs and says again, firmly, “sleep problems.”

“aw, maybe buy melatonin?”

“my mom isn’t fond of that, she thinks it’ll mess with my health.”

“yeah, my dad thinks that too.” 

minji chuckles before slurping up a few more noodles, and you take another bite out of your sandwich.

a few minutes later, you two finish your food and start walking with no destination in mind. the evening chill sets in, and the breeze makes you tense up and shiver. minji notices you clutch your phone tighter as the wind blows against you. you're wearing a baby t-shirt and linen pants, clearly not enough to keep warm in this weather.

“are you cold?”

you shake your head and lie, “no, just a breeze.”

“you look cold. here, i have a long-sleeved shirt under this anyway,” minji says quietly, slipping off her hoodie. she pauses and you do too, then hands it to you. you tilt your head, staring at the piece of clothing, then look back at her. she moves it towards you again, urging you to take it. “i’m warm, you’re not.”

“i am.”

“i didn’t know you could be such a liar, y/n.”

“what?”

“i’m kidding,” she says, then pulls you closer by your wrist. you let her put the hoodie on you, it fits a little large since it’s also oversized on her. “better?”

she looks at you with care in her eyes, you almost stop breathing. the sunset’s glow highlights the curve of her nose and lights up her gaze. all you can think is wow, because wow.

“woah,” you’re a little starstruck. “you’re… gorgeous.”

“i– what? no, where did that come from?”

“sorry, um, i didn’t mean to… it was just in the moment, you know? yeah…” you swallow lightly, and laugh to push away the awkwardness. “thank you. this is much better, i’m warm.”

“that’s good.”

“yeah.”

the two of you continue to walk, with you filling the silence and talking about your classes. minji’s easy to talk to, she’s a great listener and hums at everything before adding her own input. everything she responds with is interesting too, but maybe that’s because she’s minji.

both of you had turned halfway through to start walking in the other direction since you live the same way. minji points at certain stores and spots, sharing short stories and little remarks about memories from each place. her voice is soft and nostalgic, painting vivid pictures of her past experiences as you stroll along together. 

you could listen to her all day, or at least a long while. that’s what you realize the more she speaks.

you two reach a point where you need to part ways. minji lives on the right side and you live left, so you two stand at the croner before the crosswalk, looking at each other.

minji pauses you as you start to take off her hoodie, “you can give it back to me tomorrow.”

“what? no way, it’s cold.”

“my home is only five minutes down, it’s fine.”

“you sure?”

“i’m sure.” she adds.

silence follows again for a few seconds, you take the time to scan minji’s face again.

“what happened to your cheek?” you point at the bandage on her cheekbone.

“oh,” minji’s not going to tell you that some idiot decided to throw a piece of building at her and scratch her skin. “um, knife?” she clears her throat. “knife.”

“how did the knife get up there?”

minji tries hard to conjure a response, looking down before her eyes light up after a lie forms.

“i had it in my hand while trying to scratch an itch.”

“mhm, okay.” you say squinting your eyes at her and giggling. 

minji looks at the bandage on your neck, remembering how, where, and why you had hurt yourself there. it’s odd that you look at her with the same admiration even when she’s out of teh suit – when she’s just minji and not some ‘hero’ in your eyes.

“what happened to your neck?”

“some guy.” you play it off like you didn’t almost get your throat sliced. “you probably heard the story.”

“i didn’t.” she didn’t need to, minji had been part of the story.

“oh,” your fingers raise and brush against the bandage as you recall, “spiderwoman saved me, but this guy managed to graze me.”

minji hums and nods, then steps closer, reaching her hand out to gently put her finger on it. you stiffen. 

“were you scared?” minji asks, finger sliding down the bandage in a way that makes you tingle. “it must’ve been scary.”

you shake your head. “spiderwoman was there, i knew she’d come through.”

“right.” minji says lowly, then takes her finger off of you. she stares at you for a good five seconds before smiling softly. “i’ll um, i’ll see you.”

“yeah, thanks.”

“get home safe, text me when you get– oh, wait.” she furrows her brows before pulling out her phone. “i don’t have your um…” her voice quiets down to something close to a whisper, “--your number.”

“you can have it, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.” 

“yeah, um, i just wanted to make sure you got home safe.” minji says, because if anything were to happen to you she’d do more than just web some dumbass down. they’d probably be left with a little bruise or two, maybe even left upside down against a wall or tree. minji continues, “if that’s alright with you.”

“that’s perfect.” you type in your number and smile at her once more before finally adding, “thank you for the hoodie, good night minji.”

“goodnight y/n.”

with that, you two depart, and you look back once to see her walking in the other direction. when you turn back, putting your hands in the pocket of minji’s hoodie, you realize: minji’s wonderful. 

the image of her smiling and puffing her lips out when you tease her makes you grin to yourself. you can’t tell if it’s because of her hoodie or her; you’re warm inside and out.

–

minji waits for you at the entrance of the school instead of meeting her friends at their usual spot (if the little corridor by the gym counts as a meetup spot anyway). she looks around, you had texted her that you were almost at school.

she feels a little stupid standing there by herself, especially since your friends are nearby and stealing glances at her, making her shrink in her place a little.

all her worries wash away when you walk through the entrance and scan the room, meeting her eyes and lighting up. you make your way towards her with her hoodie in your arms, then hand it to her.

“thanks again.”

“it’s no problem.”

“i owe you, and for the shoot later today.”

“you don’t owe me anything.” minji smiles at you assuringly. “i’ll um, get going. your friends are all here…” she rubs her neck awkwardly and looks down at the hoodie in her hand.

“oh! i was actually wondering…” she watches you look down at the ground. “do you want to walk around together? we have first block together so… if you don’t mind. i enjoyed being around you last night.”

“you did?” minji looks surprised, she sounds surprised. “i mean, yes. yeah, i’m down, let me text my friends.”

“great.”

“yeah.”

minji can’t fight back the smile that forms on her face and neither can you – you like the sight of it. her gums show a little and you think it’s the most endearing thing in the world.

“by the way, are you and your dad okay? after the argument.. you know?”

“oh, yeah.” you mumble. you and your dad agreed to disagree. “it doesn’t really matter, i’m just grateful you were there to help me feel better.”

“i did?”

“how could you not?”

-

minji’s adjusting the settings of her camera, eyes squinty as she looks close at the small screen. from afar, you take a few glances throughout your conversation with jungwon and wonyoung.

you watch as minji’s lips pout a little, she has a poker face that would make her seem intimidating and serious if you didn’t know her. 

“hello?” jungwon waves a hand in front of your face. you glance away from minji and your attention is back on him, catching the look he shares with wonyoung. 

“why are you guys looking at each other like that.” 

wonyoung raises her eyebrows, the smirks. “the real question is why are you looking at minji so much?”

“i’m just… you know… she’s– she’s taking long to set up her stuff.”

“it’s been less than three minutes y/n,” jungwon clicks his tongue. “you even ditched us to walk with her, what’s up with that?”

crossing your arms, you respond, “what’s wrong with that? are you jealous?”

“oh not at all, i don’t care y/n. just curious, that’s all.”

“you looked a little too happy in my eyes.” wonyoung teases, smiling knowingly. 

“shut up, she’s just really nice, you know…” 

“uh huh.” jungwon hums, smiling wider.

before you can scold him, you catch minji looking up and making eye contact with you. today, she’s wearing a flannel over a white tank top, paired with dark jeans to complete the outfit. she looks a little dorky, but you’re into that – she pulls it off effortlessly. 

as she starts to walk towards you, jungwon, and wonyoung, you smile wider, waving at her and beckoning her over with your hand. minji greets the others warmly, then glances down at the ground before looking back up at you nervously.

“hi, are you all ready?”

“yeah, i’ll gather the rest.”

“great, you all can just go on with practice and i’ll try to get the best shots i can.”

“that sounds great! thank you again minji, i owe you so much.”

she chuckles, putting a hand on your shoulder and rubbing it lightly. “it’s nothing.” she says, but what’s something is the familiar tingly sensation making you lose balance. jungwon notices the blush on your cheeks, as well at your thrown off composure, fighting back a laugh.

first, you and jungwon have a warm-up match together. minji snaps a few pictures before wonyoung and heeseung join in for a doubles match. after capturing your group, she moves on to the rest of the team, snapping pictures of them in action. her shots capture the players mid-swing, rackets in hand, their faces set with determination. the light filters through the trees, casting a perfect glow over the court, making each photo dynamic and full of energy.

you sit on the side, watching your teammates and minji (mostly minji) at work. 

“i’ve never seen you with hearts in your eyes until now.” wonyoung teases, shoving her shoulder against yours.

“shut up,” you groan, putting your hand on her face and pushing her away. “minji’s so sweet, and cute…”

“i knew it!” wonyoung gasps, “you never look at anyone like that. half the school looks at you like that, but you’ve never returned the gesture.”

“there’s no one in the school to look at like that wony.”

“well, now there is.”

you sigh, leaning into your best friend and pouting. minji looks really, really good on the court, the sun hitting her, and all focused on doing what she does best.

“i never realized how gorgeous she was.” you admit, staring harder. “and she’s so nice, like, danielle – the one in student government – she’s mentioned her a few times and only good things have come out her mouth. she’s not lying.”

“what, did you hangout with her or something? like a date?”

“no! no.” you shake your head, then frown slightly. “i mean, i got into a fight again with my dad and ran out the house and then to the bookstore and–”

“slow down.”

“sorry. i don’t know, i ran into her and just being with her made me feel better. it’s crazy because we’ve barely talked before this.”

“hmm…” wonyoung starts to ponder, narrowing her eyes at minji as she shoots a thumbs up in the air. she turns to face you and your best friend, smiling and walking over. “well, seems like you’re fond of her. i guess we’ll have to let time do the work.” she says before minji’s in a range where she can hear the two of you.

minji stands in front of you and wonyoung, grinning as she explains, “i’ve gotten the last shots i think, now a group picture?” 

“yes, that would be great.”

“great, if you could get everyone in the middle of the court that would be great.”

you nod, then grab wonyoung eagerly by the wrist and motion for everyone to gather around, just like minji said.

she instructs you all to have the tallest in the back, with you and jungwon in the front together since you two are the captains. minji sets the camera on the tripod, squinting her eyes as she fixes certain things. then, she gives a small thumbs up and says, “smile!”

the whole team says “cheese!” in unison, making minji smile herself. she snaps a few pictures, then urges you all to do something a little sillier. you make a face and stand on your tip toes to wrap and arm around jungwon, making him groan and laugh simultaneously. it’s candid in a way, with everyone being themselves and enjoying the moment.

minji giggles, then raises her hand up to give one last final thumbs up.

the smile on your face fades into something near shock, because minji’s sleeve falls down to just above her elbow, revealing a covered-up patch of skin – goosebumps trail up your spine because that’s the exact same gauze and placement. everything is identical to what you patched up two days ago, your brows furrow upon seeing it.

minji doesn’t seem to notice, instead taking the camera off the tripod and clicking through the photos. the tennis team starts to converse again, but you’re caught up with the injury on minji’s forearm.

you don’t want to jump to conclusions – but you’re kind of doing that.

what doesn’t help minjis case is the fact that she reacts so quickly when a tennis ball flies toward her head. it’s almost unhuman how she manages to dodge it, then catch it right after. 

she walks back towards you, then says, “the pictures look great from the little screen, i’ll take a look at them on the laptop and email them to you, yeah?”

you don’t respond for a moment, your eyes on her exposed forearm. you squint harder, thinking of when you patched up spiderwoman, and nothing shakes you from teh fact that that’s the same fucking bandage.

“y/n?”

“oh, yeah, that sounds good.”

“yeah…” minji realizes what you’re staring at, then panics and quickly rolls down her sleeve again. “i um, i just uh, hurt myself.”

“how?” you look up at her, making eye contact. “what happened?”

“brick.” she says quietly, “i tripped and my arm hit the um, the edge of a brick.”

“right, okay.” you still look at her now covered forearm, squinting again. “i hope it feels better.”

“thanks.”

“yeah.”

–

there isn’t a single person you can confide in about your suspicion that minji might be spiderwoman. jungwon would laugh and brush you off, thinking it’s just a wild fantasy. wonyoung would probably call you delusional, yeah, probably. 

left with no one to share your thoughts, you resort to lying in bed, eyes wide open, pondering the possibility. the moonlight filters through your window, casting shadows on the ceiling as you replay every clue and coincidence in your mind, trying to make sense of it all.

you grab your phone, searching up “superwoman” to see a very recent article in the first result that comes up titled: spiderwoman caught in a recent face-off with seoul’s most dangerous gang.

you click on a video beneath the headline, watching the scene unfold. spiderwoman performs a series of flips and maneuvers that seem almost unreal. the person filming is either too nervous or simply bad at their job; the footage is shaky, making it hard to follow. you squint at the screen, trying to make out the details, feeling a mix of awe and frustration as spiderwoman's incredible agility and skill are partially obscured by the unsteady camera work.

what you do catch is a dagger being thrown at spiderwoman’s rib, slicing her suit and watching blood seep out as she clutches the wound. you wince from just watching.

spiderwoman fights off the gang members with ease, knocking out three at once by letting them charge her, then jumping up to make them crash to the ground without her laying a finger on them. the last man stares at her in fear, stumbling backward as she steps closer and webs his mouth shut.

the video ends with spiderwoman webbing all the culprits against the city square as the police arrive. there’s sirens and commotion before she turns to see cops with guns pointed at her before swinging off, leaving them frustrated. your dad appears in the frame, cursing under his breath. the civilians around watch in shock and awe, clapping as she swings away.

she swings west, you take note of that.

after clicking out the video realizing that the article had been posted only five minutes ago, you hurriedly grab a hoodie and rush out your room. your aunt isn’t home yet, so no one would notice that you’re out and about.

you rush out the door and and lock your apartment clumsily, missing the keyhole at least twice before getting it. you run towards the elevator, then out of it once you reach the lobby and speed towards your school.

the school you patched spiderwoman up in, the school you and minji attend, is west of the city square. there’s a chance that spiderwoman won’t be there, but after she’s been shown how to get in after hours, there’s also a chance that the wound on her side needs to be patched up there specifically. besides, you’ve given her the secret to getting in.

you get there after running at your fastest pace for five minutes straight, and now you’re breathing heavily outside the entrance of the school. you’re inside in no time (perks of having a keycard from student government) and tiredly rushing towards the nurses office, then heading inside.

minji, however, is at least three steps ahead of you. after being bit by a genetically modified spider, her senses have been enhanced, so she had heard you as soon as you made it past the entrance – without knowing it was you.

when you step inside, there’s no one. 

the only thing you can see are bandages messily spread out on the counter and blood on the floor. you let out a breath at the sight of it.

“it’s me, y/n.”

there’s silence for a few seconds before you hear someone landing on the ground behind you, making you yelp from surprise.

“y/n? what are you doing here?”

“i saw your fight in an article.” you start, turning around to face the masked hero. you’re still not one hundred percent sure if it’s minji, but something tells you it’s her. you can’t really explain it. “you’re hurt.”

“a little.”

“that’s a big scratch you have there.” you point out, making minji laugh despite the sharp pain she feels.

“‘you’re smart’.” now it’s her turn to mock your words. you roll your eyes, stepping closer to press your fingers against it, her blood staining your fingers a bit. 

“sit down.”

“i don’t need your help.”

“you’re going to end up with a soaked bandaid, spiderwoman. i know what i’m doing, and i’m already here.”

minji inhales sharply when you press against the cut. “fine.” she croaks out.

she sits down on the counter, legs hanging off as you clean around the wound, blood soaking the small towel. you add some disinfectant, hearing her wince lowly and grip the counter not-so-subtly, so you grab her hand, squeezing comfortingly.

“it’s okay, i’m here.” you mumble, looking up at her. 

minji feels her heart tighten.

“thank you.”

you hum.

you bandage the wound carefully, relieved it’s not deep enough to require stitches. spiderwoman glances at her rib area, gently sliding her fingers over your handiwork. she looks back at you, a soft smile playing under her mask.

she watches you look back, frowning.

“what’s wrong?” minji asks.

“you’re bleeding.”

“you patched me up.”

shaking your head, you do something that makes minji short-circuit. your hand falls to her jawline, your thumb grazing the edge near her chin before pressing down. minji feels a sharp pain she hadn't noticed before. when you pull your thumb away, you stare at the smear of blood on it, holding it up to show her.

“it wasn’t just your abdomen.” you explain, then the worry fills your eyes again. “you’re bleeding through your mask.”

“oh,”

“can i? i won’t do it all the way, just past your lip to treat the wound.”

minji hesitates, then nods. “yeah, that’s okay. no more than that.”

“of course.”

you tremble a little as you roll up her mask tantalizingly. your fingers meet her skin just barely, but she still hears her breath hitching and her throat drying up.

you’re looking at her exposed lips before you even pay attention to the cut on her jawline. they’re plump and parted before you, catching your eye effortlessly. after gazing for a few seconds longer, you cradle her face in one hand to keep her in place as you dab an alcohol wipe over the cut – she winces.

“sorry.”

“it’s fine.”

a few seconds later and there’s a bandaid on her jawline now, courtesy of you.

she softly rubs the bandaid, then brings her mask back down. she clears her throat,

“thank you.”

“it’s nothing.”

“you didn’t have to.”

“i want to.” your expression is hard to read, a mix of worry and pity, but also admiration. “you’re a hero, you should be treated like one.”

“i just have responsibilities.”

“well, you should be someone’s responsibility too.”

“why yours?”

“because i care – a lot.”

minji stays silent for a while, staring at you through the mask. she feels beyond lucky, a little emotional too. her chest tightens slightly, urging her to look away from you and scoot away. 

you frown again.

–

the next day minji shows up next to you nervously with hanni by her side. you’re with jungwon at your locker, conversing with him until you feel a tap on your shoulder. when you turn around, you’re more than happy to see minji.

she has a small cut on her jawline in the same area and with the same bandage. there’s no denying that spiderwoman stands before you, but you’ll let her know a different way.

jungwon watches her hand you a flashdrive, her other hand clutching the strap of her bag. 

“um, these are the pictures.” her lips move the same way as spiderwomans, and they’re just as alluring. “ ihave the edited and original versions of each, just tell me which one you like the most.”

without warning, you reach over and hug her. she widens her eyes, and so do hanni and jungwon as they watch everything unfold. you purposely slide your hand over the wound on her rib area, pressing on it slightly and hearing her sharply exhale in your ear.

it’s her, it’s definitely her – you couldn’t be any happier that it’s her. minji’s sweet, caring, and very attentive, her personality fits her alter ego perfectly.

you pull away from her and smile, your hands gently resting on her forearm, holding her in place. minji feels a rush of warmth hit her cheeks like a summer heatwave, her heart pounding in her chest. 

“you’re literally the best, thank you minji.” 

“y-yeah, it’s no problem.” 

hanni looks dumbfounded watching the exchange. she turns to minji after you walk away with jungwon, and her best friend is smiling like an idiot. hanni almost gags.

–

a week passes by, you and minji have spent more mornings before class together, even conversing after school time to time. 

minji seems to have healed, the bandage on her cheekbone is gone and there’s a faint line that indicates a former cut on her face, but it’s not noticeable under her concealer. you’re happy to see that she’s getting better physically – much faster than the normal person, you might add.

(because she’s spiderwoman, you know she’s spiderwoman.)

you’ve spent more time admiring minji, your crush on her growing deeper and it almost makes you forget that she has a whole other persona. you can’t remember a single thing about the arachnid while staring at her brown eyes and pretty pink lips.

–

there’s not much crime for a little while, not until two weeks after the night you had patched up spiderwoman (kim minji, the prettiest girl in the school). 

a video on instagram reaches four thousand views in three minutes, the video showing spiderwoman leaping off a building and knocking down some lunatic with legs made of metal. some scientists really need to stay thinking inside the box, because giving yourself additional limbs to steal from organizations is just insane.

you watch as spiderwoman gets tackled to the ground at ador labs, grappling with manmade tentacle arms using her enhanced strength. sitting on the edge of your bed, you bite the inside of your lip when you see her shoulder get cut by the edge of a mechanical hand.

thankfully, the police arrive just in time to assist. they shoot at the villain, whose face bears an uncanny resemblance to the ceo of jyp manufacturing, distracting him long enough for spiderwoman to kick him off and shoot webs at his goggles.

the person recording has a steadier hand than the last, capturing the way spiderwoman uses her webs to launch herself at the man and kick him in the chest. she quickly rips off two of the tentacles, causing the remaining ones to shut down.

she collapses to the ground, clearly exhausted, but scrambles back up and onto her feet as the police start to close in on her. she’s swift and smart, easily fleeing the scene in no time.

you had left your apartment the moment the video ended, and now you find yourself back at school, catching your breath and processing everything you just witnessed as yourush towards the nurses office.

opening the door, you catch spiderwoman sitting on the floor and leaned against the counter tiredly, clutching her shoulder. 

“my god,”

“you came.” she says, practically a breath. 

“of course i did, i saw the video.”

“i’m so tired.”

“and you’re hurt.”

“it’s not that bad actually, this one’s actually a scratch.”

“bullshit.” you mumble, quickly rushing over to tend to her wound. 

the routine unfolds without much change: you gently clean away the blood, carefully applying disinfectant. minji fights to suppress her cries of pain, but the discomfort is clear in the way her body tenses and reacts. you offer her comfort, your hand resting reassuringly over hers. through the mask, minji gazes at you with a mixture of awe and gratitude, feeling like she’s witnessed rain after a drought.

“thank you.”

“it’s nothing.” you’ve said it countless times, minji’s said it back to you when she was just minji and not someone under a suit that could swing webs, save the day, and get hurt for you to take care of her. “i mean it.”

you sit beside her, your arms pressing comfortably against each other, and lean your head against the cabinet door beneath the counter. 

minji—spiderwoman—is the first to turn her head and look at you. she visibly relaxes as her gaze settles on your side profile. you turn to meet her eyes, offering a soft sigh, feeling a shared calm in the quiet space between you.

“can i,” your voice quiets down to something near a hum. “can i kiss you?”

“w-what?” minji feels her throat go dry and blood rushing to her cheeks, it’s so sudden, you must be more exhausted than her. “i, um, i don’t know if you’d like that. you barely know me.”

“sure i would, spiderwoman.”

minji doesn’t stop you when you reach over to the bottom of her mask, rolling it up. she could stop you, but she’s stuck in place, unable to move despite how risky it is for you to find out who she really is.

there’s no chance you’d stick with her if you knew who she really was, she’s been too comfortable hiding behind this “spiderwoman” persona, hiding who she really is.

you roll the mask up less than halfway, the bottom half of her face exposed to you. the wind hits her skin and she shivers.

minji feels transparent. “i, um–”

“pretty,” you stare hard at her lops, then lean closer. “you’re so pretty.”

“you haven’t seen my whole face.”

“and yet you’re still kissable.”

“y/n, i—“ she cuts herself off, words stopping at her throat as you tilt your head and place a hand where her jaw meets her neck. she begins again, unknowingly leaning closer. “i don’t think you’d be happy with the person under the suit.” she mutters quietly.

“sure i would,” you murmur, then press your lips against hers softly. you feel her kiss back and smile into her. you part just barely, your lips ghosting hers, “kim minji.”

minji hums surprisingly when you kiss her again, still reciprocating but quickly pulling away with a gasp.

“w-what? how did—“ she clears her throat, “who’s kim minji?”

you don’t respond to her question, instead, reaching for the edge of her partially rolled-up mask and laughing softly.

“can i?”

“um,” minji folds when you look at her like that, eyes pleading and face pretty as the moon shines through the window and highlights your features. “yeah…”

you smile at her, removing the mask off her head fully to see your classmate and crush under it. she’s battered up and her hair is messy because of the mask, plus, she looks fatigued. despite this, she just looks cuter in your eyes.

without warning, you lean in again, pressing your lips against hers. minjis eyes widen momentarily before she sinks into your touch, placing a hand on your cheek and melting into you. 

when you two pull away again, you grin at the way the moon shines on her, exposing the deep blush on her cheeks and the nervousness in her features.

“why wouldn’t i want to kiss you?”

“how did you— how’d you find out?”

you shrug. “i’ve liked you for a while now, i didn’t even know it until the night you gave me your hoodie. i mean, i always thought you were cute. i paid more attention to you and all the bruises and scars added up, and i could recognize those lips from a mile away.”

she blushes intensely, the manages to breathe out a small “oh.”

“mhm.” you hum once more before hastily pecking her lips. “you’re so cute.”

“wait, you actually… do you really like me?”

“of course i do minji.”

“it’s not becuase im spiderwoman, right?” 

“no,” you grin at her dumb expression. “i like spiderwoman because she’s you, minji.”

“seriously?”

you groan, looking at her with a stupid ‘are you serious’ expression painted on your face. “do i need to kiss you again?”

“um,” minji starts, but stops herself from being so dense. “yeah, please.”

“okay.” you respond happily, cupping her cheek and closing the distance again. 

you smell like vanilla and feel like snowflakes in the spring. as you cradle her jaw and kiss her softly, minji tries to figure out if she’s dreaming. your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her closer. minji's lips gently hold your top lip, while you play with the ends of her hair, twirling it between your fingers.

“hey, minji?” you pull away to softly mumble against her lips, then minji hums in response. “let’s go out sometime, is that okay?”

“of course, yeah, please.” she sighs lovingly.

yeah, it’s not a dream.

it can’t be because you pull away and look at her like she’s the prettiest flower in a field of nothing. you smile at her, holding her face in your hands like she’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more.

[aurumalatus]

𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐞 [𝟓]

pairing. kinich x fem!reader

word count. 3.1k

genre/warnings. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff and angst, drabble collection, reader is mentioned to be wearing a dress, descriptions of blood and injury

summary.

in which kinich learns the value of all things: lives, friendship, and, of course, you. or, in which kinich realizes that you are the only priceless thing in this world.

author's note. the slow burn is burning... kinich is a little slow to the punch though LOL. this chapter talks about turnfire night, i took a lot of ~artistic liberty~ with the banquet and such so don't hate on me pls. there's a bit of angst in the next few chapters, i'm sorry HAHAHA. pls lmk what you guys think, it's very motivating! i hope you enjoy <3 reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

↢ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ↣

𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗥𝗢𝗢𝗠 (𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗛 𝗢𝗙 𝗠𝗘)

At some point, the flowers start to speak your name.

Kinich isn’t sure when the idea took root in his mind—it had been slow for sure, a snail crawling over a branch. Living together makes you a perpetual presence in his life, a certainty like the rise of the sun and the glint of the stars. He finds comfort in that knowledge, but rarely thinks on it more than that.

The day he realizes it, the sun is a bright yolk in the sky, honey-yellow and shining dutifully upon his back. A layer of sweat plasters itself to his forehead, and he scrubs it away with his wrist, panting. For as many years as he’s been a farmer, the work hardly gets easier; it still leaves him sore and aching every day.

Across the field, the front door of your home swings open—it’s you that peeks out, waving. Kinich nods back in reply, gathering the vegetables in his basket and jogging back over to you. He frowns when he notices a dark spot on one of his carrots, vaguely noting that he should toss that one out later.

“I ran you a bath,” you offer, leaning halfway out the doorway. Kinich extends a half-smile in gratitude.

“Thanks,” he replies, holding the harvest out to you. You take the basket with a small ‘thank you’, placing it down on your feet. Usually, you would take the vegetables inside right away to wash and cut them, but today, you’re lingering—there’s something on your mind.

But Kinich is nothing if not patient, so he merely waits, arching a brow.

“It’s Turnfire Night,” you finally admit, hands clasped behind your back. “Elder Leik invited us to the banquet, if you’re keen on going.”

Surprised, Kinich glances over his crops. He’s just about done here for the day, and he doesn’t have anything on the to-do list for tonight anyway.

“Do you want to?”

You’re hesitating, likely out of shyness—he watches you rock back and forth on your heels.

“I think it’d be nice,” you reply, short. 

You’re trying not to force him, he realizes. You know how much he hates crowded things like that. And usually, you would be right, but he thinks back on the last time he’d visited the village. It’s been long enough, he decides, and one day wouldn’t kill him.

“Sure, we can go.”

Your disposition brightens instantly, nearly ascending with joy. 

“Really?” you squeak, hands drawing to your chest. He smiles and nods, shaking his head with amusement when you disappear back inside, cheering. You’re easy to please in a lot of ways.

Kinich takes you up on your offer of a warm bath, then prepares one for you as well. Gone are the days that the two of you washed up in the river—a nicer bathtub had been one of your earlier investments, and Kinich had grown to appreciate the blessings of a warm place to wash at the end of a long day. It does wonders for his aching muscles.

Over the years, Kinich’s house had slowly grown into a home, right under his nose. Your presence had been a driving force in that process.

While his hair dries, he’s in the kitchen organizing a few of the cupboards when you emerge from your bath, footsteps quietly padding against the floor. You call his name, voice thin and uncertain. When he turns, his heart squeezes.

You’re wearing a lovely dress, a forest green with golden accents—he briefly notes that it matches his eyes, then wonders if you had chosen that on purpose. The thought leaves his head foggy.

“What do you think?” you ask shyly, giving a small twirl. Kinich’s gaze follows the flow of your skirt, the liveliness of it. He’s never seen you dressed up like this in all his years of knowing you, and the sight makes something take root in his chest. “I bought it at the market a while ago, just in case.”

There’s a beat of silence, but it doesn’t sit for long.

“It looks nice,” is all that crawls from his throat, thick. The words sound awkward from his lips, he thinks harshly. A heated flush surges up his neck, curling around his ears and resting there. You practically glow at his response, clapping to yourself. 

“I got something for you too,” you sing, disappearing into the bedroom. Kinich waits patiently until you return, gesturing for him to close his eyes. He indulges you, and it’s a few seconds before something soft brushes at his forehead, pushing his bangs aside.

A bandana.

When his vision returns, you’re standing inches away from his face—his breath hitches at the proximity. Your gaze is searching as it meets his, your lip twitching at the edge. The excitement nearly pours off of you in waves. 

You’re staring.

Kinich’s fingers brush his own cheek, self-conscious. “What is it?”

You lean impossibly closer.

“Nothing,” you hum, happy as a clam. “I just think it makes your eyes look even prettier.” 

You’ve always told him how much you love his eyes, the starburst of jade and gold. You have a tendency to notice things about him that no one else does.

“Does it look nice?” he asks quietly, thumbing at the cloth. He would recognize a product of your weaving anywhere—you must’ve been working on this for a while now. He wonders when you found the time, or even how you managed to do it without him noticing.

You nod, a fond smile gracing your face. “You look really handsome.”

Kinich feels a touch of jealousy at the ease with which the words seem to fall from your lips. Sometimes, he wishes he could speak his mind the way you do. He doesn’t usually hold back in his words—most people he interacts with can attest to that—but when it comes to you, his tongue grows heavy in his mouth.

Still, the idea that you think he looks handsome is…nice.

“Thank you,” he breathes.

You turn and skip back into the bedroom, calling over your shoulder about how the two of you should leave soon. He watches you leave, the dress flowing like silk over your form. He swallows.

It’s really, really nice.

Later on, Kinich holds you close as the two of you grapple toward the village, mountains and trees racing past you. Your giggles are warm against his ear; you love traveling like this, the adrenaline that pulses through your veins. Winking dots of light are already visible in the distance, a rousing cheer reaching your ears—the festivities have already started.

He lands neatly on one of the wooden walkways, taking in the scenery. The village is decorated with bright streamers and vases of blooming flowers, crowds of people maneuvering around the party. You maintain your grip on Kinich’s hand, unwilling to lose him in the crowd.

Two taller figures emerge from the swathe of people, greeting you by name. 

“Have you two been taking care?” Elder Leik asks warmly, Chief Wayna smiling at his side. The elders are concerned for the two of you, Kinich knows; they’ve tried many times to convince you to move back to the village. Their efforts slowly ceased as the two of you grew older—you’ve always been steadfast in your independence.

You nod enthusiastically. “We’ve been doing really well! Everyone’s seeking out Kinich’s work.”

Your compliment makes him feel a bit embarrassed—he feels an urge to deny it, but the elders only laugh and congratulate him, ruffling at his hair. He does feel a bit satisfied that they recognize his strength.

“That’s great,” Chief Wayna replies, genuine. “Just remember you can always come to us if you ever need anything. But also make sure you enjoy the party!”

He leaves the two of you with a wink, fading into the crowd, and you take the opportunity to grasp at Kinich’s hand, pulling him along. You’re the most excited person there, truly in awe of everything.

Kinich indulges in some of the food, laughing at the gusto with which you scarf down your own—he chuckles as he wipes crumbs away from your cheeks. Everyone’s spirits are high; the music is loud and roaring, an electrifying song that Kinich can feel in his veins. You perk up at the sound.

“Kin, can we dance?” you beg, eyes bright and lips pouted. 

He glances around. Really, he doesn’t want to, especially not in front of all of these people. But the music is slowing, and Kinich can never say no to you, so he sighs, pulling you close and placing a cursory hand at your waist.

“Is this good?” he asks, a murmur. You hum in content, resting your head at his shoulder.

“It’s great.”

A permanent grin seems to have plastered itself over your lips. Kinich absently thinks that it makes you look so much more beautiful—a flower in bloom.

“You’re really happy today,” he comments.

Your eyes flutter shut, delighted.

“I’m happy you wanted to come with me. And I was happy that you liked my dress, and that you liked the headband I wove for you. I’m just happy.”

A deep yearning fills Kinich’s chest at the feather-softness of your voice—he feels an urge to hide you away. Somehow, he wants this side of you to only be for him.

“I did really like it,” he confirms. “The headband, and…everything else.”

He likes spending time with you, he likes your dress, and he likes the warmth that permeates his body when you hold him like this. Everything else seems to fade into nothingness.

For a while, the two of you talk about nothing and everything. It’s a truly peaceful existence. Kinich tries to remember if he’s ever been to a Turnfire Night like this before; the last time he’d attended, he’d likely been too young to even remember the event. You just have a way of replacing his darker memories with pleasant ones.

The beat of the music picks up again, and Kinich feels an instant chill when you lift your head from his shoulder. Still, he sways to the music with you, smiling when you start to sing along to the energetic song.

“You’re a good dancer,” you observe, in awe. Kinich shrugs, smoothly spinning you again.

“It’s not that hard.”

Dancing with you is actually fun, he realizes despite his initial hesitation. Your laughter fades with the passing wind, dissipating into the night, and he can’t help but stare at the way the torchlight glimmers against your skin.

The two of you celebrate until the music dies to silence, until people start to yawn and retire to bed. By this time, the sun is already peeking in the distance, barely a whisper of light reaching you. 

Kinich carries you home, soft snores echoing from your place on his back—he decides he won’t tease you about it later.

Instead, he promises himself that he’ll keep taking you to Turnfire Night every year after.

(Then, he promises himself that he’ll always protect your smile.)

/

By the time he cries for the first time, Kinich is fifteen.

He feels that he knows the way the world works now—those with strength, with value, survive. It’s not that he has any interest in being one of the rich ones with towering houses that line the cliffside. Really, all he needs to be satisfied is a comfortable life with you at the foot of the mountain. And his needs—things like clothes and food—come with Mora, so he makes Mora. It’s a simple existence.

He spends more time with you. Slowly but surely, he starts to bring you on jobs and hunts with him. You’re eager to learn about the work he does, and even more excited to help—your medical knowledge does tend to make things go faster. Still, he feels extra layers of anxiety whenever he knows you’re coming along, his grip drawing tighter around his sword.

It comes on a day like any other.

At first, it doesn’t seem like a particularly difficult job—it’s a run-of-the-mill request, to subdue a Saurian that’s been attacking travelers near the village. Even still, Kinich is as thorough as always in the days leading up to the job, and you let him take the lead. He’s strict about these things when you come along, and you know better than to distract him.

The day of, the two of you encounter the Saurian in a clearing adjacent to the road. It’s sick, you mention quietly, hidden in the foliage nearby—it’s foaming at the mouth, erratic in its movements. Kinich mumbles back his agreement.

It starts to peck at the poisoned berries he’d left for it, movements slowing. He counts down the minutes—at this point, it should be incapacitated enough for the kill.

It’s only when Kinich creeps up behind it, greatsword in hand, that he realizes he’d been wrong. The Saurian seems to switch at the last second, beady eyes burning as it poises to strike. Kinich barely blocks the attack with the flat of his blade, teeth gritted.

“Kinich!” you cry out, running to his side. The Saurian perks up at the sound, tense.

Kinich’s eyes widen. “Wait, don’t come—”

It’s too late. The Saurian’s claw catches you in the stomach as it whips around, sending you flying.

A sickening crack echoes when your back smacks against a rock—you crumple to the dirt, hunched over. A cold breath hisses between Kinich’s teeth as he screams your name.

The Saurian doesn’t last much longer than that, not that he really remembers any of it. He swings his sword, cutting and slicing, sounds of battle piercing the air. It’s only when he sprints to your side that he returns to his senses.

A harsh gash is ripped through your shirt and the skin beneath, a pool of crimson already gathering on your stomach. The sight brings bile crawling up his throat.

“Kin…”

Your voice is weak, and Kinich hushes you quickly, an urge to save your strength. A striking fear has his blood freezing in his veins—he remembers his father’s corpse. Terror hovers over his body, leaving him breathless. He intertwines his fingers with yours, pressing the back of your hand to his lips. 

“That hurt,” you mumble, a touch of humor in your tone even now. “I’m tired.”

Your eyelids are heavy, stare unfocused. 

“Don’t close your eyes!” he demands. He palms at your cheek lightly, willing you to stay awake. It’s unlike him, the desperation in his voice. “Didn’t you say you’d always be by my side?”

You chuckle, a line of blood dripping down your chin. Kinich thumbs it away.

“I said that when we were kids, silly.”

He swallows, throat bobbing. Your eyes follow the motion unconsciously.

“We’re still kids.” 

His voice cracks as he says it, like his words can’t bear the brunt of their meaning. Your heart pulses, a burst of adrenaline coursing through you at his rare show of emotion. It’s only a moment, because the pain returns milliseconds later and a groan escapes your chest. 

Quickly, Kinich pulls his headband off, sliding it between his teeth to hold while he pulls the flask of water from his belt. He sets about cleaning your wound, gentle, but the stress is evident in his expression. His hands are shaking; you can feel the tremble against your skin as he eases your shirt up.

“It’ll be okay,” he breathes. Even he is unsure if he’s speaking to you or himself. You nod weakly.

“It’ll be okay, Kin.” You cough, and something in Kinich’s chest snaps when a spray of blood splatters over the hem of his shirt. A spray of your blood. “Don’t worry, okay?”

He can’t even really hear you anymore. He’s staring at the crimson mist, wondering how this had even happened. He’d assumed he was strong enough—strong enough to do this job, strong enough to protect you—and he had been wrong. There must’ve been an error in his calculations, or maybe he hadn’t prepared enough. 

He fastens his headband around your wound, stemming the blood flow. It’s almost an out-of-body experience—he hardly even recognizes the hands as his.

He’d gotten too comfortable, and you had paid the price.

Those with strength survive, but that day brings a sobering realization—Kinich is far weaker than he thought.

A cold tear slides down his cheek as he carries you home. 

You’re sniffling in pain at each step, the movement irritating your wound, and Kinich feels truly helpless. All he can do is whisper promises and apologies, that he’s sorry it happened and that he promises everything will be okay. It almost feels worse that you don’t seem to blame him at all—you’re apologizing too, telling him you’re sorry for being a burden on his job.

“You’re never a burden,” he spits. It comes out harsher than intended, so he sighs, softening. “You could never be a burden to me.”

You don’t reply.

A thick lump lodges itself in his throat as he feels your blood soak through the back of his shirt. It all almost feels unreal—he feels like he could return home to your warmth and smile and everything would be okay. You have a way of making everything okay.

“We’re almost there, okay?” he murmurs. You’re sweating from the pain, sticky against his skin. “Just stay with me.”

The house feels unnaturally cold when he kicks the door open. 

By the time he has your wound properly wrapped, the sun is gone, a distant memory. He sets you down in bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin—you’re already asleep, but your expression is unpleasant, tortured. You must be in pain, even in your dreams.

The thought makes him sick.

With a sigh, he stumbles out of the bedroom, collapsing onto the couch. His hands are still shaking from overuse and exhaustion. He’s not used to the tedious movements anymore like you are—you’re always the one patching him up these days.

A vase sits on the table. It’s full of Saurian Claw Succulents—you’d planted them yourself, cheery at the prospect of decorating the house a bit more. Kinich plucks one of the flowers from the vase by the thin stem, vacantly inspecting each petal.

He wonders what he has to change.

Those with strength survive. Kinich wants to survive. He wants to survive and live his days out with you.

But he’s not strong enough. If you can’t smile at his side, what good is he at all?

Your labored breathing is audible from the other room, the sound grating against his ears. If he had a Vision, or some other kind of power, things might’ve been different. If he had just been stronger—

He thinks back on his younger self, on his innocence, on his weakness. He’d discarded that side of himself long ago in favor of something more powerful, in favor of someone who could protect and take care of you.

There’s no turning back now, he thinks.

The stem snaps under his fingers, under the weight of it all, previous gentleness gone.

[f1goat]

roommates ; lando norris + part four

In which you have to live with your brothers best friend who you really don't like, Lando Norris, and his many 'girlfriends' for a while, but there's always a thin line between love and hate.

masterlist - playlist

lando norris x fem!verstappen reader tw: nothing much yet expect that Lando is a player + i don't proofread + smut will come next chapters!

When you wake up that following morning, you’re confused for the first few seconds about which room you’re in. This is not the guest room from Lando his apartment. Slowly the morning fussiness inside you clears up. The events from last night come back to you. Lando was screaming and making sounds all night, which caused you to check it out. He had a nightmare. You awoke him. After another stupid remark from Lando, you decided to watch some television with him - in his bed. Did you fall asleep in his bed? Shit. Carefully you look next to you. When you look and notice Lando, who’s still peacefully asleep, you realize that you did fall asleep next to him. 

The part that sits with you the most right now? It feels weirdly comfortable to lay next to Lando in his bed. It scares you. The wise thing to do is to get out of his bed, get back into your own and forget about this situation. Although you already know that Lando will bring it up eventually. You don’t want to leave his warm bed, but you don’t see another option right now. So, carefully you turn yourself around and move away from Lando. It’s only now that you notice how close you were laying to Lando. 

When you get away from the blankets and take your first move to get out of the bed, you’re quick to be stopped. It’s Lando who’s stopping you. He’s quick to grab your arm and to stop you from leaving his bed. “Not yet,” he softly mutters while pulling you back to himself. You notice how much deeper his voice is in the morning. Fuck, his voice is hot like this. Slowly you give in and move yourself back underneath the blankets. You know that this isn’t smart, but you can’t help yourself. Lando is quick to get you into his arms. It feels weird to lay into his arms like this, but in some even weirder way it also feels really nice. Lando wraps his arms around your body. 

You allow yourself to fall back asleep in Lando his arms. This is an one time thing, you keep reminding yourself. This can’t happen again. That means you better enjoy it for how long it lasts. Lando however tries to stay awake this time. When he notices your closed eyes and peaceful  deep breaths, he can only focus on how to get you in his bed again. He needs to experience this more often. Or even better, this should become the new normal. 

Eventually Lando can’t stop himself from falling asleep again as well. Before closing his eyes and giving in, he presses a soft kiss on the top of your head. You have turned yourself completely into his body. Lando feels his underwear tighten around his crotch. Feeling your body onto his own like this will probably be an image that he won’t forget about quickly. 

When Lando wakes up again, you have left his bed already. 

+++

“You’re actually insane,” Lando grunts annoyed, “Who in their right mind is going on a date with their ex boyfriend?”

“It’s not a date,” you sigh with the same annoyed tone as Lando was using earlier. 

“Not a date?” Lando asks you sarcastically, he almost laughs at you for the remark. “You’re going to a restaurant to have dinner with your ex boyfriend. Doesn’t that sound like a date to you?”

“Why do you even care,” you ask Lando with a raised voice. The annoyance is obvious in your voice. You know that Lando does have a point, but you can’t tell him that. Right? Earlier today your ex called you. Which seemed weird to you, since the last time you spoke to him was a couple months back during the break up. He told you that he still had some of your stuff which he wanted to give back to you and that he wanted to apologize. You have no idea what stuff he still has of you, but you can only hope that it’s the sweater you have been missing for a while. It was the most logical idea to meet up somewhere. The worst idea was to invite him into Lando his apartment and you also didn’t want to go to his place, so you settled for a restaurant. Exactly like your ex wanted.

“Why shouldn’t I care?” Lando asks you back.

“Because you don’t care about me,” you are quick to slap back. 

Lando can’t stop himself and lets out a loud laugh. It almost scares you. “You’re really stupid,” he tells you while laughing. 

“Great!” You tell angrily. Now he really crossed a line with you. “Stupid, insane, what else do you think of me?” You ask him with the same angry tone in your voice. 

Lando holds back a lot of words right now. It takes a lot from him to not start to scream at you what he actually thinks about you. What a stupid question. It’s not like he thinks that you’re insane and stupid, but he does think that about your idea of going to dinner with your ex. Normally Lando thinks you’re the most beautiful, smart, kind and many positive things more, girl he knows. Although he does think you’re a bit bratty, but in some way that only makes you more attractive in his eyes. He wants nothing more then to fuck all of that brattiness our of you, only for it to come back every time again. That would be the best. 

“Sorry,” Lando sighs with a more calmer tone in his voice then before, “I don’t think you’re stupid and insane, okay? It’s just that I think that this idea is pretty stupid and insane. He’s your ex for a reason, you can’t date him again.”

“You’re not deciding things like that for me,” you tell him angrily. After those words you turn yourself around and start walking towards your own room. You’re really not in the mood to stay with Lando any longer right now. An annoyed groan leaves your throat, it’s not like you think this is a date - although you have no idea how to call it otherwise. And it’s really not like you want to get back with your ex, but you do want to stay civil with him. 

“Don’t walk away,” Lando yells after you. 

“Why not?” You yell back, “So you can insult me even more?”

After those words you slam the door of your bedroom shut with a loud bang. Lando sighs when he hears the door slam. He almost slaps himself. How is it that every time things seems to be going alright between you and him, he finds a way to fuck it up? He thinks about following you and trying to apologize, but eventually it seems a better idea to let you cool down for a bit. 

In the mean time you’re making yourself ready for later tonight. You have no idea what to wear and how much time to spend on your make up. Of course, you do want to look nice, but you don’t want your ex to think that you did that for him. This is complicated. Eventually you pick out a dress and put on a light make up look. You still have some time left. Since you’re not in the mood to clash with Lando again, you decide to relax for a bit on your bed and watch some TikTok’s. 

When you do come back in the living room an small hour later, it doesn’t take long before Lando his frustrations comes back up again. He feels himself getting mad all over again. This time it’s caused by the way you’re looking. Why are you dressed this nicely for a date with your ex? He starts to doubt if you do want him back. It sure does seem like it. Lando can’t look away from you. Earlier today he called you insane, but now he’s pretty sure that he’s the insane one. All because of you. You’re making him lose his mind. 

You notice the way Lando is looking at you. The frustration is clearly displayed on his face. Is he still mad? You felt like you were calmed down about it, but seeing Lando staring at you like this makes your frustration come back as well. 

“You look good,” Lando eventually tells you with an annoyed tone. Before you can ask about his tone or thank him for the compliment (?), he’s already talking further. “Too good,” he adds.  You want to ask what he means, but when you see the notification coming up on your phone you decide to let it be. Your ex is already here. 

“I’m leaving,” you tell Lando, “Bye.”

Lando hurries himself after you when you walk away from him again. Quickly he grabs your hand. “Just be careful alright?” He asks you. 

His behavior confuses you. What does he mean with this? It’s just your ex, not some criminal. Or is this still because he thinks you’re stupid? “I wonder if I can,” you bite, “I mean I’m pretty stupid after all.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Lando sighs annoyed, “Just call or text me if you need help.” After those words you’re quick to walk away from Lando. Everything about him confuses you. Fuck. Maybe you’re getting insane, Lando makes you lose your mind. 

 +++

This day won’t get any better. Your ex boyfriend did bring your lost sweater, but that’s the only positive thing so far. He’s going on and on about how much he misses you. At first it was kinda sweet, but now it’s just annoying. You didn’t break up with him without a good reason, so you don’t feel tempted to act out on his pleas. Not that he asked about getting back together, but you suspect that the question can come anytime. 

Maybe Lando was right, this is weird. You should have bought a new sweater instead of doing this. He did already send you multiple messages, maybe you should text Lando to help you out of this situation? You almost laugh at your own dumb idea. Lando will probably text back something in the lines of: “I told you so.” He isn’t going to help you with the mess you created yourself.

It’s a shame Max isn’t around. You try to remember why your brother isn’t in Monaco right now, but you don’t remember the reason right now. You do however remember that you really need to meet up with him soon, you haven’t seen him for a bit. 

“Don’t you miss me as well babygirl?” Your ex asks you. His questions shakes you out off your earlier thoughts. No, you don’t miss him. That isn’t the strange thing you’re feeling right now. It’s his last word. Babygirl. He never called you that before. He wasn’t one for nicknames like that. Since when is he calling you babygirl? It feels weird. 

It takes you a short minute before you can say why it feels weird. Normally it’s Lando who calls you babygirl. Shit. Is this really feeling weird because you’re used to Lando? 

“Please don’t call me that,” you politely tell your ex. He gives you a strange look. “Earlier you begged me to give you a cute nickname?” He asks confused.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “When we were in a relationship.”

His remark reminds you about why you broke up with him the first place. Yes, he was your boyfriend but often it didn’t feel like it. He was always too busy to make time for you. Which wasn’t that bad, until you noticed that he had time for everyone else. The romance just wasn’t there. When you thought about your relationship after the break up, you were quick to realize that it was a more friendly situation then a relationship. 

And maybe, really maybe, your meeting with Lando confused you as well and made the breakup happen sooner. When you first saw Lando, he made you feel something that you never felt around your then-boyfriend. But that will no one ever know.

“But I do want to get back with you in a relationship,” your ex confesses, “I can make more time for you, I can figure out some cute nicknames and we can be together again.”

“I think it’s a bit too late for that,” you carefully reply. Everything he just said, is nothing you want. You don’t want to spend more time with him, get his attention and certainly don’t want to be together again. 

“What do you mean?” Your ex asks you confused, “That’s what you wanted right? More attention, a more loving relationship?”

“Wanted yeah,” you tell him, “I don’t want that anymore.”

“Then what do you want?” He asks you frustrated.

“I don’t know what I want,” you confess, “but I do know that it’s not you, sorry.” 

You tried to tell him so polite as you could, but apparently it made him still angry with you. Fuck. This really was a bad idea. You notice another text from Lando popping up on your screen. Should you text him back? You unlock your phone and read Lando his texts.

Lando Norris: I meant it. Text me if you need me.

Lando Norris: How are things going?

Lando Norris: Babygirl?

Lando Norris: Just tell me if you’re okay

Since when does Lando care this much about you? It makes you shiver, but not in a bad way. That’s not a good sign. You want to reply to his texts, but your ex is already snatching your attention away again. 

“Who are you texting?” He asks you annoyed. Before you can answer, he’s talking further. “Is it your new boyfriend?” He continues to ask. 

“New boyfriend?” You ask confused. Does he think you have a new boyfriend? Why would he even think that. 

“Yeah. Maybe it’s that Lando guy, that wouldn’t surprise me.”

The venomous tone in his voice reminds you about the other reason you broke up with him. The jealousy. It’s crazy now you think about it. On the on hand you were having the feeling that the two of you were barely friends, let alone lovers, but on the other hand your ex was always jealous. You remember multiple fights between the two of you, even one about Lando. You almost laugh if you think about telling your ex who you’re living with right now, but you don’t tell him. You don’t want to fight. 

“I don’t have a new boyfriend,” you tell your ex.

“Then why won’t you want to get back with me?” He asks you angrily. 

You don’t like the angry tone. He has no right to act like this. “I don’t like you like that anymore,” you tell him annoyed, “and I don’t even know if I ever did.” The last part of your sentence wasn’t smart, but you feel yourself getting mad as well. 

“Bitch,” you ex hisses angrily. 

For a few seconds you doubt about your next move should be. Are you going to get into an argument with your ex or are you leaving? His words make you mad, but you know it isn’t smart to get into an argument with him here. Maybe this is the moment to text Lando, he offered to help you right? Maybe he can pick you up? 

“I’m going to pay for my part and then I’m leaving,” you tell your ex eventually, “I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about left.” In the mean time you pull out your phone again, you open your chat with Lando and quickly type something. 

y/n: can u come get me? I’m at Amù

You press send, but you have no idea if the text is actually being send. The screen has turned black. Shit, you didn’t even know that your battery was low. What if the text didn’t send? With an annoyed sigh you get up from the table and walk towards the server so you can pay for your part. Then without looking back at your ex, you leave the place. In all irony it’s also starting to rain. What a shitty day. 

Within the second that Lando got your message, he’s in his car. The restaurant you’re at isn’t that far from his place thankfully. He tries to get to you as fast as he can manage. Breaking multiple traffic laws in the mean time. 

“Come on let me take you home,” your ex says angrily. He’s standing outside with you, much to your annoyance. You don’t want him to be here. It’s pouring rain in the mean time. You realize that you must look awful now. Your dress is sticking against your body, your make up is probably ruined. You can only hope that there isn’t anyone around who knows your name or brother. The Instagram posts are already formed in your head. 

“No,” you reply.

“So you’re going to stand here stupidly?” He continues to ask. 

“I’m getting picked up.” At least, you hope so. 

When Lando arrives at the street from the restaurant, he’s quick to spot you. You and your ex. He has never seen the guy before, but he can’t take his time to look at him. He quickly parks his car across the street and jogs to you. When he looks at you, he realizes that you are all soaked. Before he can say anything to you, your ex is talking at you. Lando didn’t expect that your ex would be still here as well.

Lando takes a good look at your ex. He never saw the guy before. It’s been a while since you dated him, but Lando is certain that he never met him. He knows that Max wasn’t a fan of the guy either. 

“See!” The guy says angrily. “Fucking slut,” he continues with a raised voice, “you’re already dating someone else. And even worse, it is him! You lied to me.”

“We’re not dating,” you sigh. 

“Yet,” Lando can’t withhold his remark. “And don’t call her that again.”

You send Lando an annoyed glance. Is he here to help you or to make things worse? Even though, you can’t stop the weird feeling in your stomach after he just said that. Why are his words having such an impact on you? And why is Lando talking about dating you? Could it be possible that he wants to date you? You’re getting confused by what’s happening.

“Are you going to deny that she is a slut?” Your ex asks Lando. 

“Come on babygirl, we’re leaving before I’m going to lose it,” Lando mutters annoyed. He already feels himself getting angry with the guy in front of him. He gives you his hand, which you thankfully grab and wants to take you with him to his car so you can get home. 

“So that’s why I couldn’t call you that,” your ex remarks, “your new boyfriend has dibs on that name.” 

“Not my boyfriend,” you state again. 

Lando almost adds another ‘yet’ again, but this time he holds himself back from doing it. 

“Oh just for the sex then?” Your ex asks, “That does seem more fitting for a slut like you.”

Before you can even say something back, you’re already busy with pulling back Lando. What is going on? Lando has let go of your hand, only to use it to form a fist which can hit your ex boyfriend in his face. Fuck, he did actually punch him. You’re quick to grab Lando his arm and to try to take him with you. 

“Let’s go Lando,” you mutter, “He isn’t worth it.”

“He called you a slut!” Lando almost screams. “Two fucking times.”

“I know,” you sigh, “Let’s leave please.”

Your ex is furious right now. He’s balding his fists as well and seems ready to take revenge on Lando for his earlier punch. When you see the fist of your ex coming at Lando his face, you don’t think about your next action. You quickly pull away Lando, which caused you to stand in front of the upcoming fist from your ex. When you feel it hit your cheek, you let out a gasp from the impact. It’s not a hard punch, but you’re still shocked. 

Lando reacts within seconds. He carefully looks at your cheek, making sure that the impact wasn’t big. Softly he pushes you to the side before he grabs your ex by his neck. “I swear to fucking god,” Lando says with a voice so low it almost sounds dangerous to you, “you better make sure that you’re never close to her again, because the next time I see you too close to her, I’ll fucking end you.” You wonder what he means with that. “I’ll make sure everyone knows what a pathetic loser you are,” Lando continues, “and that you’ll never have a chance with a girl, or with a job or with whatever ever again.” He lets your ex go and watches him quickly walk away. 

“Are you alright babygirl?” Lando asks you worried. He is quick to get you into his arms and to inspect your face again. It doesn’t look to bad thankfully. 

“I think so,” you softly tell Lando. 

“Let’s get you home,” Lando replies, “I have some ice there, hopefully it will stop the swelling.”

When you’re seated next to Lando in his expensive McLaren, you remember your horrible state. You must look like a mess. Your dress is soaked, your make up is running all over your face and even worse, you also feel like a mess. 

“It turns out you were right after all,” you sigh.

“I wish I wasn’t.”

“Sorry that I dragged you into this,” you apologize towards Lando. 

“Rather be sorry that you ever dated someone like him,” Lando replies, “I’m pretty sure there’s someone better around for you.”

“Someone like?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Lando chuckles, “Someone who’s ready to punch another guy for you maybe.”

And again, Lando confused the hell out of you. 

part five

a/n; thanks everyone so much for all the kind reactions so far 🫶🏻 love reading them 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

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[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 2

<-former chapter ~ AO3 link ~ next chapter-> I will block any ageless blogs. Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 6181.

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

Author's note: reminder that reader is kinda a bitch at some points, thinking mean, unjustified things about our 141 once in a while. Unreliable narrators, my sinner. Apologies for any grammatical errors , the bad russian and such. So uh, this got waaay longer than intended so here you go. It will be a couple of days before the next chapter, so enjoy this snack for u all, my sinners.

chapter 2: Delivery from the Hybrid's Den!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I have a friend coming over for a while,” John softly said next morning, hand resting on your head, fingers stroking your long ears now and again,, “to help us with getting the boys settled.”

You were on the floor, half way beneath the kitchen table, snuggled up against Price’s leg, feeling much more needy, knowing the ‘boys’ as your owner called them, would be delivered later today or tomorrow. They needed to be chipped and Price had asked for a full health check from his vet, as well as vaccinations and dental care. John was a caring owner; the mere fact that he did this from the get go was proof of that. He had done the same when getting you, made sure that any recent wounds or scarring were taken care of - getting your teeth fixed and your nails checked.

You didn’t have much of your fangs left when he got you; your earlier owners had taken those, the memories still haunting you once in a while. They had done it without anesthesia, not even by professionals. Same with your claws, that wasn’t beneath your nails anymore, thanks to former owners as well. Price had gotten the wounds cleaned and fixed up; they had almost grown closed by now. For most of the time that you lived with John, he had made sure your nails were always done nicely, however you wanted them.

John was a good master. You loved him, more than you knew you should, desperate for his attention, acknowledgment and praise. You didn’t want to share him, not with these hounds he had decided to get…

… not with this apparent friend.

You didn’t answer with anything but a displeased sound, tightening your grip on Price’s pants; when he offered you another piece of sausage you were quick to eat it, licking at his fingers while he chuckled. For a moment your tail wagged, eating the food and pressing against his hand.

He couldn’t be serious - abruptly changing so many things? and you were just supposed to accept it? Finally, you replied.

“Do I know your friend?” You didn’t bother to seem excited in any way, your skepticism seeping into your voice like poison. Price took another sip of his tea, not commenting on it.

“You’ve met him before but it’s been years. First year I had you, I reckon. Remember Nikolai?” 

Nikolai. Nikolai. Different faces flashed for your eyes, trying to pinpoint who you had met that bore that name. 

“No,” you finally admitted.

“Can’t blame you, lass. You were a little mess when you met him.”

You let out a huff at his words, embarrassment making your toes curl. It was true, your mind was muddled when it came to the first half year or so together with Price. You had been wary of every single person, desperately acting out and having to wear a muzzle, slowly getting used to the gentleness and rules of John. How he was fair and didn’t change his rules, didn’t punish you without reason.

You heard the front door open, ears peeking up a little, a small bark leaving you on instinct.

“‘Morning,” Laswell called out, making you settle again with a huff. While Laswell was strict and sometimes a meanie, she wasn’t a threat. Only to you and John’s private time.

“Good morning,” John called out, “I’ve made coffee.”

“Ugh if I wasn’t a lesbian I would marry you,” Kate groaned happily, by now so comfortable with John that she simply moved to take a cup in the cupboard, helping herself to the coffee and some food. They had known each other when younger, that was all you knew. Their stories always changed when you asked.

“Morning puppy,” she greeted, leaning over to give you a small pat that you leaned into, tail wagging once more, “are you going to misbehave again today?”

“Hopefully not,” John hummed, picking up his tea cup once more, “Nikolai is arriving in a couple of hours.”

“Ah, your old crush,” Laswell mused happily as she sat down across the table, once again making you wonder how long they had known each other, “going to pull yourself together this time?”

Wait. Crush… crush? Your head whipped up to look at your owner and oh fucking hell, John fucking Price was blushing. You huffed, clearly not pleased at all with this new knowledge.

Wonderful, wasn’t that just fucking wonderful? Now he was going to abandon you fully, to run around being a lovesick puppy and playing with the new hybrids.

“Don’t tease me,” John answered, clearly embarrassed, a rare sight indeed, “that’s none of your business.”

Kate just laughed. You let out a grumble, trying to snuggle even closer to Price, practically clinging to his leg by now. Price returned his hand to your head, petting you once more, looking down at you. You returned his gaze, doing your best puppy eyes, letting out a little whine. He smiled at you, his other hand scratching you beneath your chin.

“It’s been years,” he mused and you were pretty sure that he wasn’t even talking to you, “he had to return to Russia. His mother passed away.”

Russia? A memory appeared in your mind. A small party. Champagne, treats. Praise from Price’s friends and colleagues, attention and love that you had basked in. Other hybrids that sent you longing and lustful looks. A tall, broad man with a loud laugh and a strong accent. Wearing a gold chain. Long hair, rough hands when he scratched you. He would almost make your owner shy with his teasing but he would shower you in love.

“Did I meet him at a party once?” You asked, “big guy, strong accent ? Wearing a gold chain?”

John laughed, “yes, that would indeed be Nikolai.”

Huh. It was not much you could remember about him. You remembered liking him, but despite that, you weren’t really interested in him getting here.

“He is going to help with Soap, Ghost and Gaz,” John then said, almost as if to convince himself that was why he was here. You rolled your eyes at their names. Not that you had any say, you were usually just called different pet names, but you no longer bore the name your mother had once given you. It wasn’t unusual for pets to get their names changed with every new owner. Your legal hybrid name, with John, was Daisy, even though the man rarely ever called you that. He called you so many other names, Princess, Darling, Sweetheart, Birdie and so on. But apparently he had decided not to change these working dogs’ names.

“Sure,” Kate answered with amusement in her voice, taking another sip of the coffee before adding, “whatever you say.”

Price didn’t answer with anything but an annoyed grumble.

“Those are stupid names,” you muttered. A sharp tug on your ear made you yelp, one of your hands grabbing onto his wrist to get him to let go of your furry ear. 

“Be nice, Princess. You’re going to behave, am I understood?” You didn’t meet his eyes, a little whine merely escaped from you.

“She just needs to be shown her place,” Laswell carefully said, John not letting go of your ear, much to your dismay, but he didn’t tug on it - just kept it there as a warning, “maybe they’re better at that.”

“Hopefully they’ll be better at it than me,” he muttered and you whined - the grip didn’t loosen and he didn’t look down at you.

“Nikolai is going to help with that too?” 

“He had ideas, at least.”

Fucking wonderful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nikolai was the first of the four men that you already hated, to arrive. 

You stayed inside the house, watching John appear from one of the stables, almost lighting up at the sight of the man who exited the car.

He still looked like the old memory you had of him; big, long black hair and a grin on his face. He was taller than John but not by much, Almost seeming completely opposite to your owner. While John wore working clothes, a grey T-shirt beneath his blue flannel, dirt on his pants, Nikolai was wearing a pair of blue jeans, white T-shirt and leather jacket.

Even inside the house, you could hear the booming man that was Nikolai - he greeted your owner with a loud “John!”, before hugging him, even spinning him around. You couldn’t help but stare; John was far from small but the other man had swung him around like he had been a teenage girl. 

John was blushing like one too. The sight made you curious - just like you wondered how he and Kate met, you wondered how this Nikolai met your owner.

You couldn’t help but wag your tail at how happy they looked. Despite how you hated the idea of the man staying here, even just for a little while, you liked seeing John happy like this.

Then two pairs of eyes suddenly looked directly into the window, both staring at you. It made your ears tip back a little. Your tail kept wagging, eating up the attention. 

When they moved, you moved too - rushing towards the entrance, stopping in the doorframe to the living room. 

“My my, if it isn’t the famous puppy,” Nikolai mused, his Russian accent strong, eyes almost twinkling as he looked you up and down, “up to trouble, da?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, though you felt your tail betray you by wagging a little, “I’m never up to trouble.”

Both of the men laughed, making you growl a little. 

“Unruly - just like last time I met you!” Nikolai mused, looking over at John by his side, “you gave up on training?”

John shook his head, “don’t even get me started, mate.”

“You told enough over phone,” Nikolai answered, waving his hand at John while pushing his shoes off with his feet.

Ah. So he had talked about you with Nikolai already? The fact made you scrunch your nose a little. Maybe Nikolai was just as stupid as John when it came to realizing why you were upset.

Nikolai stepped into your personal sphere with no warning, almost backing you up against the door frame, making you panic and growl a little. Tail no longer wagging - you could see John tense up in the corner of your eye, but you were too distracted by the stranger.

“Nik—“

A part of you expected him to hit you - you had met plenty of strangers with your former owners, who didn’t even let you sniff their hand or anything. Some hurting you and —

He offered his hand. It didn’t hit you, but raised to your nose instead. You squinted at him, before taking a couple of sniffs, still not quite sure what to make of him.

“Don’t like you,” you growled in warning, showing your teeth a little, not even attempting to be polite. 

“You don’t like farm life yet, puppy?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, voice demeaning, stupid smile still on his face. You wanted to slap it off his face. “Stupid little puppy.”

Instead you chomped down on his hand, Price instantly scolding out your name, moving to drag you away. But Nikolai didn’t even flinch - didn't move besides laughing again. 

It made both you and John confused.

“If you want to hurt me, you would have to bite harder, Princess,” Nikolai crooned, “now let go.”

You wanted to piss in his shoes and rip his socks to pieces. Maybe scratch up that leather jacket of his. Yet you found yourself letting go of him, your teeth barely even having made a dent in his skin.

“Get your ass into your room,” John hissed, a redness in his skin that you weren’t sure came from embarrassment or anger from your action.

“No harm done, John,” Nikolai laughed; he scratched you behind your right ear, just a tad to the left and it was like your brain melted for a couple of seconds, your body reacted on its own, tail wagging and right leg moving as well, “she just attempt to be dangerous no?”

John let out a small sound that you weren’t sure  what to make of before he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you away from Nikolai, “and that’s the kind of behaviour I don’t want.”

“He was being mean,” you whined in self defense, unable to not follow the hand dragging you into the living room, “he almost dared me to!”

Perhaps an overstatement, but you already knew what was going to happen the moment that Price pushed you over the armrest of the couch, “I bit him to defend myself!”

“You will not, and I repeat myself, not bite my guests,” he pulled up your skirt and down your panties with such a quick movement that you didn’t get to point out that you didn’t care, one hand grabbing your tail; his other hand collided with your ass cheeks, once, twice and then a third time, before he snapped out, “got it?”

A defiant bark left you, because while you knew it was bad behavior, you also wanted to prove that you weren’t afraid of this Nikolai. You twisted a little, knowing your ass and pussy was basically on display for both men. 

The grip on your tail tightened making you cringe with pain, jaw tensing.

“Apologise.”

You shook your head in defiance, ears hitting your face. Price leant over you a little, hissing out, “I would advise you to apologize, princess. Now.”

A part of you knew he was upset because he liked Nikolai. If he actually had feelings for him, as Kate had pointed out and several things pointed towards, you knew he wouldn’t like being embarrassed too much. Your ass still stung a little.

You were the actual victim here, weren’t you? It wasn’t your fault he decided to change everything you loved and then accept that he had his lost love over, who immediately tried to push your buttons.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled after two seconds.

“Louder.” John demanded, straightening up, so that you were no longer hidden.

"I'm sorry."

There was silence for a moment - then the sound of a lighter and as you dared to glance over at the bigger man, who was leaning against the door frame, you saw him staring right back at you, a lit cigarette now between his lips.

“Is okay, Lapochka.” He said, stupid smile still on his face.

With that John finally let go off your tail, pulling up your underwear and your skirt down, ignoring your whine. He didn’t even touch your pussy! Didn’t even give you some love!

You pouted as you looked over at them, sliding down from the armrest of the couch, hands going beneath your skirt to rest against your warm skin on your cheeks.

“Sorry Nik,” John once again apologized - as if it was him who John had just spanked! The audacity! You let out a little displeased bark.

“She usually doesn’t bite people,” he continued as he ushered Nikolai as if you weren’t right there, needing love and attention.

“Is okay,” Nikolai answered with a shrug, casting one last glance over at you, smirking for just a second, “some of it was my fault - wanted to see what she would do.”

Asshole.

“Room, princess - now.”

“But he literally ju—“

“I said now.”

“You’re being so fucking mea—“

“Crate then.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You might have slammed the door to your room, growling as you plopped down on your big fuzzy dog bed. 

It was about 30 minutes later than you dared to wander from the room to the kitchen again, standing in the doorway, watching the two men talk. Eyes moved to watch you again, as you whined and got on your knees. crawling to the two men, shamefully settling between Price’s legs on your knees - tail carefully wagging, sending your owner a pitiful glance.

“‘m sorry,” you whimpered, knowing John was easy to sweeten up, “‘m sorry, sir.”

A hand moved down to scratch you, though it wasn’t John’s-  you carefully licked his hand, a pleased rumble leaving the guest.

“Smart one,” he muttered, giving your cheek a little pinch, “knows how to be sweet, da?”

“Always,” John answered, looking down at you with his usual loving eyes, “soft lass is hard  to stay mad at.”

“Perhaps you need some more company,” Nikolai pointed out, “I worked with military pets before, they’re much different than you, milaya.”

“We don’t need them,” you whined, having no idea what Nikolai had just called you, “John will forget about me, will be too busy, he –”

John’s foot ever so gently pushed against your stomach, “don’t start that again.”

“Just insecure,” Nikolai suggested, making you huff.

“Am not,” you argued, but you still nuzzled closer to John, starting to move your hands to his inner thighs, moving to look up the best you could, looking from under the edge of the table, sweetening your voice a little, “It’s just a mistake, that’s all.”

“Spoiled, that’s what you are, darling,” John pointed out, but he still reached out to gently pat your head, “however, the boys will be here in a couple of hours and there is nothing you can do about it.”

You whined pitifully at his words, upset that your clear dissatisfaction with them joining the farm wasn’t clear. It was like John didn’t want to realize at all that he didn’t need to stay out on this farm. He needed to go back to the city, to the fancy penthouse apartment, to the parties that lasted out to the late hours of the night, where you could gossip with all the other hybrids.

“Milaya,” Nikolai repeated again, rustling with something in his jacket that hung over the back of the chair he was currently sitting on, pulling a little package from it. You watched curiously, though trying to seem disinterested. That was until he opened it and the most wonderful, mouthwatering scent you had smelled in a while appeared and you instantly moved from between John’s legs to Nikolai’s, making your owner chuckle.

The piece of jerky looking meat that Nikolai held in between his thumb and pointer finger, looked simple but oh the smell of it made it known that it was good.

“You behave and let us look through papers now, da?” 

“Yes,” you said, unable to look away or stop your tail from wagging, “I’ll behave.” 

The moment Nikolai offered you the piece, you were on it, barely missing his fingers with your teeth as you stole it from his grip. Nikolai was chuckling, putting the bag back into his jacket, while you chewed, a pleased moan leaving you as you settled beneath the table. 

Hopefully these mutts would prove themselves too difficult - so that John would send them away again. You would happily wave goodbye to them. 

With the sweet aftertaste of the meat in your mouth and their soft voices discussing fences, you closed your eyes.

You weren’t going to help with the pack settling in - that was for sure.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You barely got used to your owner’s crush, before there were once again new things happening. Kate appeared, greeting Nikolai like an old friend as well. You hadn’t figured out much about the man, other than he had worked with a lot of hybrids throughout the years. And with helicopters. However that all fit together, you didn’t know… didn’t really care.

The big truck that arrived a couple of hours later, stood out against the farm houses; a colorful logo was painted on the otherwise steel gray vehicle.

THE HYBRID’S DEN! helping owners find their perfect hybrid pet since 1960!

You remembered seeing their logos everywhere when you were sold to the auction, years ago. The auction houses and facilities had often felt like an intermission from your former life to your new; never knowing what was going to happen, treated with the minimal care, but kept healthy enough for the auctions. 

The staff wore the colorful logo on their black uniforms, exciting the truck a few moments later. You almost wanted to tell them to ‘get the fuck back into that truck and drive off’ again, but you figured it wouldn’t result in them actually doing so.

You kept your distance, standing on the steps of the front door - strategically keeping Nikolai between you and the closed metal crates that were inside the truck. There were nothing more than a few air holes in the boxes, from where some different sounds appeared. Barks and a growl or two, though they all sounded a little slurred. Nikolai moved, giving you a better look at them, as he joined John who was nodding along to some of the information, while looking through and signing some papers. Though you were mostly distracted by the crates, you could hear some of their conversation, catching words like sedated, muzzles, stressed. Your own trip hadn’t been nice either but a part of you wanted to point out to your owner that this only proved your point of this being a bad idea.

Some of the auction workers helped move the crates to one of the bigger empty sheds that Price had apparently been renovating without your knowledge. So apparently not so empty any longer. Not that it had been hard to do that, you ignored most of the different renovating and building jobs that both John and the helpers did.

Still… he could have told you. God, did your master tell you nothing anymore? It didn’t really help your mood, your growing annoyance clearly amusing for Nikolai if his smiles back at you were anything to go by.

Despite your repeated frustration with this entire situation and these new hybrids’ mere existence, you followed along inside the shed. It was nice… Isolated, with a tiny bathroom, an area padded with mattresses, which was clearly for them to sleep together, pillows, blankets… you wanted that too. Sure, you had loads, but this only made you want more, want more from Price, so that he could prove he still loved you. 

There was a radiator, several windows, lamps and electricity outlets. You scrunch your nose with displeasure. They didn’t deserve that. At least they weren’t inside the main house. 

There was a little notch in the other corner opposite the bed area, almost like a tiny expansion, another door next to it; it was almost like a small horse stall - a deep layer of hay covered the floor. You didn’t even step into the place, but you knew the hay would itch.

You wanted it. Not the itching of the hay, but the entire place, simply for the sake of having it, so that they couldn’t. Speaking of them, you watched from the main entrance as the metal boxes were opened.

The Belgian malinois and German Shepherd mix was the first one to stumble out of the box; he fell two steps later, directly into the hay, a deep sigh leaving him, eyes darting around. You could barely see him from the amount of people inside the stall. 

“It’s alright, Gaz,” Price comforted, while you stayed in the door, keeping his distance to the hybrid, “You’re okay, boy.”

Gaz didn’t answer, just panted a little, ears tipped backwards - his eyes looked a little blown from what you could see.

“When will the sedatives wear off?” Laswell asked one of the workers, but you didn’t look at them, eyes instead at the other hybrid. 

When you had arrived, you had been scared and angry, drugged as well. But you had been alone. While you grew up with your parents, in a nice enough place, you hadn’t seen them for years - and while you had befriended a lot of other hybrids throughout the years, you had never been a part of a “pack”. You were alone — but this Gaz wasn’t and a part of you envied him, even for that.

“In an hour or two,” the worker replied, pulling you from your deeper thoughts, “they weren’t too happy to settle down before we left. It was necessary.”

A small bark left the man in the hay. It was answered by the two other hybrids, who still hadn’t come out of their respective boxes. Nikolai gently tapped on the top of one of the boxes with a knuckle.

“Come join your friend,” the Russian suggested, voice not as loud as earlier.

A moment later the border collie mix, Soap, crawled out of his box, eyes instantly on Gaz, letting himself lay halfway on top of the other. A little growl leaving him, muffled from behind the mask. Not even a second later, Ghost got out of the last crate. The Great Pyrenees almost got on his legs, growling despite the muzzle and swaying from the drugs.

You watched the staff pull back the metal boxes, letting the hybrids get some space. Ghost didn’t stay on his legs for too long, eventually sitting down next to his pack mates, the lower half of his face hidden from view as he looked around the shed.

His gaze stopped at you; you were unable to sense the reaction from seeing you again, if there even was any.

“We’ll let you have some minutes, okay? Then we’ll take the muzzles off.” John gently offered, pulling the giant from the moment, so that he looked away, giving Price a small nod. Your owner was at the edge of the hay filled area but he didn’t step into it.

You stepped back, letting the staff members from the auction pull away the boxes, Laswell and another farm worker helping them. Nikolai looked from the pack, then over his shoulder at you, barely even trying to hide a smile.

Then he winked. You sent him an unimpressed look back, tipping your chin up a little, looking away from the three hybrids in the hay, pretending you weren’t curious about them.

Some more rustling in the hay and then a half croaked, “mah held hurts,” left Soap, voice a little slurred - you couldn’t help but look over at him. His accent was weird. His ears were tipped down, some hay already stuck in his hair. With the pathetic look on his face you didn’t understand how he was supposed to be a big bad soldier.

You weren’t being petty at all.

“It’s the sedatives,” John calmly answered the hybrid, who let out a big breath from behind the muzzle.

“If I take the muzzle off, will you behave?”

“We have water for you,” Nikolai added, keeping his distance - you kept him in between you and the dogs, not risking anything. You trusted the men to be able to defend themselves. But with no claws or fangs, you weren’t a fighter - more a runner. Even if you didn’t like running.

The two muzzled ones, Soap and Ghost, sent each other a look - but it was Gaz, half hidden beneath Soap, who let out a tired “please.”

Ghost gave a small nod then. John stepped into the hay, unhurried as to not spook them, and it was Ghost who tipped his head down first to let Price open the lock with a small key. The moment he was free, he smacked his cracked and dry looking lips. 

Clearly, the man had never heard of chapstick.

Though, much more apparent, where the colony of scars on his lower half of the face. Trailing from around the lips, one over the nose as well - cheeks and chin. As he smacked his lips, you saw he had lost a fang in the bottom of his mouth. It wasn’t just sanded down like yours, the tooth was fully missing.

Price repeated the action with Soap, the hybrid instantly opening his mouth wide with a yawn, his jaw even making a popping wound.

Nikolai appeared with three bottles of water from a little cooler in the shed - you didn’t have your own cooler, which meant you would be demanding one… not that you needed it but still — giving the hybrids each one, that was always immediately opened. Gaz pushed Soap away and sat up too, while John backed away.

“My name is John Price -we met shortly at the auction. I’m the owner of the farm and you will all answer to me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” For a moment you were impressed with the three hybrids’ synchronized answers. Only a short moment however. They were probably just beasts trained to answer like that. Yeah, yeah, you could do that too, if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“This is Nikolai, my friend, he will stay with me for a while, helping you all to settle in properly. You will follow his orders too - as well as a mean looking woman, Kate Laswell, who will appear at some point.” Humour tipped into the last part making Soap snort and Gaz give out a half-slurred giggle, while Ghost just let out a grunt.

“And this,” Price suddenly turned over to you, looking a little amused from the distance you kept between all of them, “is my pet, Daisy.” 

“Well hellooo, bonnie lass,” Soap said, his tail immediately wagging, grinning at you, as he slurred, “aren’t ye a sight for sore eyes.”

Nikolai and John dared to laugh at his words, his rather pathetic attempt at being charming, while you growled, watching Soap get an elbow in the side from Gaz, while Simon just stared, almost differently than the scot, like a hungry beast. If you were fully inside the shed, you might be able to smell if they were turned on. Disgusting. 

“Come’ere, sweetheart,” John crooned, clearly pleased with the reactions from the men, while you scrunch your nose, tipping your chin up a little - giving it a shake to reject the command.

“Do not be like that, milaya,” Nikolai suggested, “thought you were going to behave, no?”

You just growled a little again, unable to help your tail go between your legs a little; you didn’t really want to be spanked again, but you didn’t really want to become acquainted with these hybrids either.

“My princess isn’t too pleased with you lot being here,” John calmly explained without taking his eyes off you - they were still all staring at you - as John raised a hand, making a ‘come-hither’ motion that had you swallowing some spit, “but she isn’t going to chase away any wolves, are ye, pet?”

You huffed, crossing your arms before stepping inside the shed. The scent in there was nice and clean, even with the vague scent of the newcomers, and you walked to John, stopping halfway hidden by him.

However, as John’s arm snaked around your soft waist in a strong grip, you whimpered as you were pulled forward a little, unable to hide behind him. Both Gaz and Soap were wagging their tails at you, while you tried ignoring the scent of the room the best you can.

“I’m expecting you all to get along - and not hurt each other too badly, understood?”

While the others answered in agreement you just hid your face in his shoulder, twisting a little in his grip.

“No playin’ too rough,” Nikolai added, “Puppy isn’t used to other hybrids.”

“I am!” you snapped, “Just not…”

The shed was quiet for a moment as you mulled over your next words. What to call them. Military dogs. Strays. Mutts, un –

“Not what?” Nikolai almost seemed entertained by your declaration and you looked away, before finally mumbling.

“... working dogs.”

Simon huffed. You shot him a sharp look that he didn’t really seem to be affected by, in any way.

“I’m sure you all will get along,” John just mused, before looking down at his watch, “A certain princess has become too bored now we’re no longer in the city -” he ignored your mutter of ‘have not’, “- and I can’t entertain her all the time. Mentally or sexually.” 

You whined with embarrassment, a little angry growl seeping into it, but Price didn’t really react, barely moved as you twisted in his grip, ignoring the grin of the several males in the house. 

“ - Now, I will leave you three to get acclimated a little. But, there are a couple of rules that I expect you all to follow, if not there will be punishments.”

Synchronized nods. You still twisted, digging your fingers into his arm to no avail - then a hand snagged onto your collar from behind, choking you shortly as you were pulled back, Nikolai pressing against your back. Now free, Price pointed to a little map over the area, that you hadn’t noticed on the wall.

“Your jobs will essentially be to help keep the place safe. We have had problems with wolves and foxes, and so has the neighbors, since there lives a bunch in the area. You three will help keeping them away and Soap will help around my sheeps and goats in particular, given you’re a herding dog–”

Soap nodded, tail wagging, all three dogs staring at the map intensely.

“- I will find other things for the two of you to help with as well, but your main focus will be on keeping the animals - and the rest of us - safe. One of the neighbors got some horses stolen not too long ago. I would like to avoid that as well.”

You didn’t even know that. What you did know, however, was the heat of Nikolai’s body behind you, keeping you close and tethered so that you couldn’t run off.

“Most of the wildlife will go away if intimidated, but at times you might need to attack them. I am not going to give you any firearms yet though,” John looked over at them, his voice  firmer than you usually heard it, “That will come along the way, if needed. We can discuss other weapons later on.”

The mere idea of John giving them any kinds of weapon made you want to throw up - or throw a fit. Had he gone fuckin’ mad?? giving them guns? They were going to shoot everyone, going to kill John and you. You really didn’t want to die.

“My farm includes these - and these fields. You will not and I repeat not, leave my land without a valid reason. There will be punishments if you do - you will all be given collars like another certain puppy–” all eyes watched you for a moment and though, you wanted to hide  your face in your hands, you didn’t, merely crossed your arms, ignoring the low laughter from Nikolai behind you, “that are fitted with trackers, so I will know if you do.”

Great. So hoping for them to run off wasn’t a possibility for now.

“Biting or attacking my staff in any way will result in severe punishments. You will lose privileges if you don’t do as told, without a valid reason. Is that understood?”

“Yessir.” 

“Good boys. Now, these upcoming days you will most likely be following me or Laswell around, while we get you in on all these. All dinners will be eaten in the main house and you will be given keys once I get them made one of these upcoming days. I will give you a couple of hours now –” Price looked down at his wrist watch, “Then call you in, an hour or two before dinner, so that you all can shower. Any injuries, allergies or anything that the Hybrids’ Den didn’t write down, that I need to know?”

They all shook their heads, behaving like synchronized swimmers in your opinion. 

“Good. You’re all free to relax here or explore the farm if you wish so, when the drugs wear off.” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As you entered the farm house, you shrugged off your jacket and abandoned your shoes in the entrance, not caring to clean up after you, ignoring John’s irked huff.

“Insane!” you declared, walking further into the house, “You’ve gone insane! You’re all going to forget about me and those horny knotted mutts will be all up in my business!”

You flopped down on the couch, face first, continuing your ranting into the fabric.

“I might as well barricade myself inside my room - Because I dont have a tiny house!! but guns! SURE ! give them guns!” Your voice was muffled, but you were, perhaps a tad dramatically, loud in your ranting. You could just make out whispering between the two men but you didn’t care… not until you were forced to, quite literally.

“Little puppy,” Nikolai’s accent was heavy - his body even heavier as he settled on the back of your thighs, a fist coming to rest next to your head, that kept his full body weight from you, “Throwing a fit again, da?” 

You could feel the slight bulge against your fat ass, making you swallow - and tail wag, hitting Nikolai against the thighs, making the man chuckle. John as well, who settled down with a cigar in one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. You didn’t even need to look to know that he watched as Nikolai tugged at your skirt.

[honeyhotteoks]

chapter fifteen: the taste of you

chapter summary: two weeks have passed and so many things about your life have changed.

warnings: almost entirely smut, but outside of that warnings for allusions to her attack, discussion of triggers, some ptsd symptoms, and there is a moment during sex that reader is triggered but they help her through. smut including: fingering, oral (f receiving), oral (m receiving), absolutely dripping wet messy sex, squirting, rough blowjob, cum on reader, cum in reader lol, knotting and all things a/b/o, ass play, double penetration, some amount of m/m that surprised them all, tears during sex but not dacryphilia, lots and lots of orgasms, basically she almost passes away from cumming pls enjoy

notes: more to come, thank you all for waiting for me 🩵

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 17k (i’m back with a bang no pun intended)

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Someone has been stuck to your side all day. If it isn’t Yunho in the hall, it’s Mingi by the front door, San in the gym, Seonghwa getting you coffee, and Wooyoung walking you from room to room. After almost two weeks of reacclimating back to the studio and feeling more like yourself, your sudden shadows throw you for a loop.

They know something.

It isn’t until Mingi nearly walks into the bathroom with you that you spin on your heel and give him a soft push backwards to clear some space.

“What’s wrong?” He straightens up immediately.

“With me?” Your brows go high, “Nothing, I’m feeling great. I am wondering why you feel the need to come pee with me, though,”

He blushes red, “Shit,” he steps back, “sorry,”

“Is something going on?” Your eyes narrow, “I feel like I’ve been assigned a secret service detail but no one told me,”

He chews at the inside of his lip and then finally sighs, “Don’t freak out,”

“Not a great start,” You point out.

“You’re perfectly safe,” He adds, taking a step forward.

“Also not good,” Your stomach flips, “Mingi, what’s happening?”

“Minseok is getting out of the hospital today,” He says in a rush, “and I’m sure he won’t show up here, he’s not an idiot, but it would make me feel better if I knew you were with someone,”

“Oh,” You relax back against the wall.

“You’re not upset?”

“That you want to keep me safe?” You smile, “No, I’m not upset,”

“It just has us a little on edge,” He tells you honestly, “but we didn’t want to worry you with how much better you’ve been doing,”

“Who’s we?” You smile.

“Um,” He taps his phone, unlocking it and glancing down at a series of messages, “me and Yunho, obviously. Seonghwa, Woo, and San,”

You crane your neck to see the screen and laugh immediately at the name of the group chat, “y/n Protection Squad?”

“That was all Woo,” Mingi blushes again and tucks away his phone, “you know him,”

“Mhm,” You raise an eyebrow.

“We probably should have told you,” He concedes.

“Probably,” You nod, “but honestly it’s cute,”

“We just,” He trails off, “well you know,”

“Yeah,” You tap the edge of his phone, “if you’re reporting my coordinates to each other though… you could just text me. Actually, hold on,”

You pull out your own phone and scroll through the settings until you find the right thing, “There,” you smile up at him, “you and Yunho have my location now,”

His eyes widen, “Oh,”

“If you’re worried,” You shrug, “I trust you both not to abuse it.”

He flicks through his own settings, “Now you have mine,” he says, “I’m sure Yunho will do the same once we talk to him,”

“Thanks,” You smile and tuck your phone away.

He doesn’t move, he just stays steady next to you as if he’s waiting for you to say something more.

With a curt jerk of your head behind you, you say, “Okay, but I think I’m safe in the bathroom,”

“Right,” He takes a big step back, “sorry, babe,”

“Don’t be sorry,” You reach out and squeeze his arm, “I’m heading for the gym after this if you’re looking for me,”

“Cool,” He smiles, “thanks,”

“Mhm,” You start to back up through the swinging door into the bathroom, and as you do you watch him quickly tap out a text on his phone. No doubt a report that you’re heading to the gym and wondering who’s in there already.

In any other circumstance this level of hovering would bother you, but they more than mean well. Even though you know Minseok won’t pop up out of nowhere, he truly would have no rational reason to, the presence of your pack around you and the family you’ve built at the studio backing you up, it means everything for your level of comfort here.

The past two weeks have been a dream. Not every second of it, of course, especially with everything it took to reacclimate to work, but having a new home with them has been everything. In the span of a week Yunho and Mingi helped clear you out of your old apartment and break your lease, breakdown the bedrooms at their apartment to transition Mingi’s old room into a shared bedroom, and installed a pack bed that had more than enough room for you and both your alphas.

In the gym you find Wooyoung, lounging on one of the stationary bikes playing on his phone.

“Did Mingi send you?” You tease him immediately.

He grins, “Maybe,”

“You could have told me he was getting out today,” You nudge him as you pass by, sitting on your own bike.

“I know,” He pockets his phone and turns towards you on the seat, “but I didn’t want you to be anxious.”

“Fair,”

He drags a hand through his hair and sighs, “Hey, listen,” he says, “can you tell Yunho I’m not going to make it by this weekend?”

Your eyes narrow, “That depends,” you say, “are you two going to let me in on your weird little secret plans?”

Wooyoung smirks.

For the past week ever since Yunho had moved into the larger bedroom his old room was closed tight, and every few days Wooyoung was stopping by to see you but also to slip away with Yunho and work on something.

“It’s a nest, right?” You prod him, “what else would he be so secretive about?”

“Don’t ruin the surprise,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “let the man do a nice thing for his girlfriend,”

That word is new, along with other words that sum up what you are to each other. Partners, pack, lovers, mates, girlfriend, boyfriends, it’s all tangled up and happening fast but your stomach doesn’t do a nervous flip like it used to, you just feel warm.

“Traditionally, I think I’m supposed to make my own nest,” You point out.

“He knows that,” Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “that’s why he called me. Now my lips are sealed, stop asking.”

“Fine,”

He pulls at the front of his shirt to get some airflow and sighs, “So, you’ll tell him?��

“Oh,” You nod, remembering his original question, “sure, is something up this weekend?”

He looks at you and raises his brows, “I’m due for a heat,” he explains, “and I just started feeling achy this morning,”

“Got it,” You nod, “can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head, “No, I’m fine, I’ll probably take tomorrow off and then see where the weekend goes,”

“I’ll be around,” You let him know, “I can deliver ice cream and sexy magazines,”

“Shut up,” He smirks.

“Wait,” You smile, “what are you doing about Yeosang?”

His face falls entirely. They’ve been nearly inseparable since they met, even though you yourself still haven’t met him. But you’ve learned enough about him by proxy that you think he’s the right kind of guy for your best friend.

Wooyoung fiddles with the edge of his t-shirt, “I don’t know,”

“You’ll tell him?” You ask.

“Sure,” His voice sounds strained, “I mean… I don’t know how else to explain disappearing for three days.”

“Mhm,” You leave him the space to keep working it out.

“I really don’t think he should meet San and Hwa during,” He says, “I was planning on introducing them beforehand, but you know, that never really worked out.”

“Woo,” You get his attention, “I think you should have whoever you want for your heat, not worry about that,”

“I’m not even sure he’d want to be there,” Wooyoung blushes a bit, looking down, “we keep avoiding the topic.”

“You met like a month ago,” You point out, “not even,”

“So?”

“I’m saying it’s not weird it hasn’t come up,” You soothe him, and you can see clearly how close to his heat he is if his emotions are this on edge, “because the relationship is new.”

“Oh,” He deflates.

“You should get home,” You reach across, giving his shoulder a squeeze, “relax and figure out what you want to do, and then talk to them.”

“I know,” He sighs, “you’re right,”

Silence settles for a moment, and you consider starting up a cardio routine on the bike, but you actually want nothing less today, something’s been itching at you and taking your focus, and with the knowledge that Minseok is out it feels like now or never. With Wooyoung being down for the count next to you, any lingering motivation you would have had flies right out the window.

“Okay,” You stretch your arms and hop up, “if Coach Choi asks, I did forty-five minutes,”

Wooyoung snorts a laugh, “Fucking same,”

It’s late in the day, you should probably pack up your things anyways. The halls have quieted down, the gym relatively empty, and short of Mingi and Yunho finishing their work in the back reviewing next steps and mocking up the next schedule, you’re almost done for the day.

A flickering memory passes through you.

“Hey,” You nudge Wooyoung again, “can you please wait to report my whereabouts for like twenty minutes?”

“Why?” He counters.

You’re quiet, and you give him a look.

He knows where you’re going in a heartbeat, “You want me to come with you?”

You shake your head, “No, I want to do this alone.”

“Okay,” He murmurs, “but text me if you need,”

“I will,”

He watches you go, but you ignore the pressing eyes at your back. Now with twenty minutes of freedom, you check that the hall is empty and move quickly down the one direction you’ve hated walking these past two weeks.

You haven’t been into that particular studio room since it happened. The first day back to work was strange, full of nervous energy and people who didn’t quite want to meet your eyes without some form of uncomfortable pity, but day two was better. You made the right jokes, you smiled wide, and as long as you didn’t acknowledge that room, everything was fine. Now that two weeks have passed, it’s like this room doesn’t even exist and everyone’s adapted to that new reality without a peep.

So far you’ve passed the door eight times and each time you’ve done a damn good job of not even making eye contact with it, barely even thinking about it, not even a little bit.

But something about today is different, maybe that it’s late in the day again, the sunlight dropping in the sky and the halls quieter than they’ve been since you came back. Maybe it’s the new knowledge he’s walking around free. You don’t know exactly what pulls you right in front of the tightly shut studio door, but something deep in your gut does and you find yourself staring at the wood grain, palms slick and trembling against your thighs. It takes a few minutes to hype yourself up enough to push through the door, your stomach a churning mess of knots and images flickering in your mind, but at the count of three whispered on your lips you finally do it.

For some reason your mind expects a dark room, shattered glass, streaks of blood, and Minseok standing in the middle of it all waiting for you, that’s the last thought that rockets across your brain as you stumble over the threshold, but it’s so far and away the opposite that it takes the rug right out from under you.

The room is bright and completely normal, no glass or horror to be seen, and Choi San is seated right in the middle of the floor with one leg extended as he stretches out his muscles. It’s clear from his expression that you startled him a bit, all but falling into the room with flushed cheeks and nervous eyes, but he calms immediately.

He straightens his spine and meets your eyes in the mirror, “Hey,”

“Uh,” You pry your hand away from the door handle, “hey,”

“You alright?” His head tilts slightly as he looks at you.

“Sure,” You answer, a little too quickly, “sorry, I didn’t know you were in here,”

“Mhm,” He nods, and for a moment he’s quiet, waiting for you to say something.

“I’ll just,” You start, your foot sliding backwards so you can make a quick exit.

San just shakes his head, pushing himself up to his feet and turning towards you, “Come in,”

“Eh,” You’re ready to back out now, he just has to let you.

“y/n,” He beckons you forward with a jerk of his head, “you clearly are trying to get past this and I’m in your way, come in. I’ll let you do that,”

Your mouth is dry and it feels a little like being caught under a microscope with how accurate his assessment is.

San takes your silence as a yes and grabs his hoodie from the floor, smiling close-lipped at you as he moves to the side. Suddenly he’s no longer in the mirror in front of you, and memories start to flood back of the last time you were alone in this practice room, last time this door opened and someone appeared behind you in the reflection.

“San!” You spin on your heel, reaching to catch him before he’s truly gone.

“Hey,” He soothes you, gently passing a hand down your upper arm, “take a breath, you’re safe.”

“S-stay?” You manage it, your nails digging into his skin through the thick fabric of his sweatshirt, “For a second?”

He softens, “Let me get Yunho and Mingi,”

You shake your head, “Please don’t.”

His brows knit together, “Why not?”

You swallow tightly, feeling the entire scene playing out behind you, and you could swear that if you just turned around you could see it all. Your body on the floor, your alphas above you, the flooding, rushing water in your ears of subspace.

“y/n,” San prompts you again, “why don’t you want your alphas?”

San’s thumb strokes a tender line into your skin, waiting for your answer and you exhale slowly as you center yourself, “They worry for me,”

“Mhm,” He nods, but lets you continue.

“They wanted me to take more time off,” You explain, “but I’m ready to be here,”

He waits another beat, and then lays his other hand over your tense fingers, pulling them gently away from his sleeve, “Are you?”

You swallow tightly, “Work, yes,” you tell him, “this room is hard.”

“Let’s go then,” He murmurs, tugging at your hand just a little as if to draw you out of the room, down the hall, and right back into your alphas arms, but you shake your head.

“Can you just wait a minute?” You finally ask, “Maybe what I need is a Choi San pep talk,”

He sighs heavily, his hands dropping away from you. For a second you think he’s going to leave, and then he moves around you to the center of the studio to plop right back down onto the floor, “Come on then,”

The knots release at his tone and you follow him. Your body is still full of nerves, but you’ve been in this studio a hundred other times before and right now there’s no Minseok. You’re not alone, you’re with your friend.

San smiles up at you and waves you down to the floor, “Stretch,”

“I already stretched,” You tell him as you ease yourself down next to him.

“Stretch again,” He prompts you, “it’s good for you.”

You huff a laugh through closed lips, extending the lines of your body out to mirror him and he nods in approval. It’s quiet for a little while, your bodies shifting into familiar positions one after another, moving silently in sync. San watches you in the mirror, correcting your form without saying a word, until he finally breaks the silence.

“It’s just a room,” He says, “that’s all it is now.”

Tight pinpricks of tears play at the edges of your vision but you clear your throat and nod, “I know,”

“There’s not a trace of him left,” San adds.

The words don’t quite make sense and you finally look away from him in the mirror to turn towards him, “What?”

He drops his arms out of another stretch and turns to you, “He’s gone,” he clarifies, “all his things, his scent, recordings, all of it.”

“W-who,” You start, but you know, “when did you do that?”

“That night,” He answers you with ease, “I just want you to know you won’t run into a trace of him here, not in this room, not anywhere.”

Your throat tightens.

“I can’t do much,” He explains, resting a hand on your knee, “I’m not an omega like Woo, and we’re not…” he searches for the right words but settles with a sigh, “we’re not close like you and Seonghwa, but you’re my friend and we’ve been through things together. I did what I could do for you,”

“San,” You manage, eyes swimming now, “I can’t believe you did all that,”

He gives your knee a squeeze, “It’s nothing,” he assures, “you deserve to feel safe here. You are safe here.”

You launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly, “Thank you,”

He holds you gingerly, one hand pressed between your shoulder blades as he nods.

It takes you a moment to get yourself under control, emotions swirling, but finally you drop back out of the hug and sweep your fingertips under your watery eyes to clear the potential tears.

“Mingi said,” He starts, catching himself with a heavy sigh before continuing, “he said you dropped the charges?”

“Yeah,”

“Why?” He asks genuinely.

For as perceptive as San is sometimes, he’s clueless about one thing. You sigh, not sure whether you should point out the glaring Seonghwa shaped blindspot in his peripherals, “Nothing would be worth any of you getting in trouble,”

“You’re worth that,” San points out calmly, “we all did what we did for a reason, we’re not inherently violent men, y/n.”

“I know that,” You nod.

“Mm,” He shakes his head and adjusts his position on the hardwood floor, “what’s done is done, but we were all willing to take some consequences for you. You’re our friend, our teammate. You’re Yunho and Mingi’s omega too, you’re… you’re a person and what Minseok did to you was wrong.”

“I know,” You repeat, finding his hand and squeezing it tightly, “but this is what I want. I want to go back to normal with my family and be happy, it’s been too long since we’ve had that,”

He nods, giving your hand a squeeze back. You can see that there’s a protest on his tongue, an argument to be made about what’s right and wrong, but he holds himself back.

In the quiet, honesty floods forward on your tongue, “I also wasn’t going to let Seonghwa ask for a single dime from his parents again,”

San’s fingers tighten involuntarily and his head snaps to the side, “What?”

“You heard me,”

San’s jaw pulses and relaxes, and then he separates your hands, dragging his own through his mess of black hair with a heavy sigh. You let him sit with it for a moment, nothing feeling quite right to say at the moment.

He nods finally and turns his head towards you just a little, “He told you?”

“Yes,”

“And,” San starts, but any words he might have fall short, he looks to you for something more.

“He hasn’t taken money from them in a while,” You start off, and San’s eyes widen just slightly, “I wasn’t going to let him get dragged back into their shit for me,”

San swallows.

“He misses you,” You offer, “and I know you miss him too.”

He looks away again, his hands clenching tight into fists and then releasing. “y/n,” He says, “you shouldn’t get involved,”

“I’m not,” You want to reach out and take his hand, but from his body language you know it’s a bad idea, “I haven’t said anything about this in months, but I’m as much a friend to you as I am to Seonghwa, so I would never lie to you.”

He considers your words for a long beat, and then he sighs, “Was forgiving them worth it?”

“Yunho and Mingi?”

He nods.

“Yes,” You tell him unequivocally, “but Sannie, they had to forgive me too.”

He shifts on the floor, this time wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, and you let your arms fold around him in the embrace. You run one hand up and down his back, hoping it gives him some amount of comfort even if it's small.

“I do miss him,” He murmurs, “all the time,”

“I did too,” You confess, “even when I was angry,”

Footsteps behind you both send a chill through you, and you jump at the sound.

“It’s alright,” San soothes you, glancing into the mirror to see who’s come in, “it’s just your alphas,”

You break away from San’s hug to look, needing to see for yourself, but feel your body fully relax at the sight of them.

“Hey,” Yunho gives a close-lipped smile, concern clearly visible in his expression, “you guys okay?”

“Mhm,” San nods, pushing off the floor, “all good,”

Yunho and Mingi both look at you.

“San was helping me be back in here,” You tell them honestly, “but I’m okay,”

Mingi helps you to your feet with an outstretched hand and once you’re up, he cups your cheek to bring your eyes up to his, “You sure?”

You nod, quietly communicating with your eyes that if there’s anything to say it should be said privately.

“I should go,” San says, grabbing his bag off the floor by the mirrors.

Pulling back you catch him before he jogs out, “Thank you, seriously,”

He nods, “You too,”

He gives a courtesy nod to Yunho and Mingi, and jogs out faster than anyone can ask any follow ups.

They’re quiet for a moment, but even just a second or two of strange silence in this room after being triggered is enough to make your skin crawl, and you reach for Yunho’s hand.

“Jagi?” He checks.

“Can we get out of here, please?”

Mingi grabs your things, “Let’s go,”

Yunho presses a warm kiss to your forehead as he turns to leave, tucking you under his arm, “Come on,”

In the hall, Mingi finds your free hand and twines your fingers together, “Okay?”

“Mostly,” You sigh now that you’re on your way out of the building and wrapped up in their comforting scents, “I think we can start having practices in there again, but maybe not all of them right away?”

Mingi’s hand pulses in yours, but Yunho speaks first, “If you’re ready for that, I’ll shift Friday afternoons back in there.”

“I’m ready,” You nod.

The three of you make your way out into the streets of Seoul, and Yunho smiles, “That way if it’s tough, at least it’s Friday and you can just come home and relax with us.”

“Smart,” Mingi comments.

Your chest warms, “That’s perfect, I love you.”

Those words have been coming more easily ever since the kitchen, but you watch the tips of Yunho’s ears go pink still, “I love you too,”

“Is San alright?” Mingi asks as you approach the car, “he seemed off,”

“He’s got some things going on, but he will be.” It’s not your place, not with something like this.

He nods, and as Yunho unlocks the car he slides into the backseat and reaches out a hand for you, “Let’s go home.”

You slide into his side, wondering a little about what San will do next. Part of you wants to smack him and tell him he’s being an idiot and he needs to get over this and there’s no sense in talking yourself out of happiness, but you didn’t listen to advice like that when you were making all the same mistakes. You have to let him come to it in his own time.

As the car pulls away you catch a message on your phone from Wooyoung.

Heading home - you good?

You tap back a fast reply - All good. Focus on your heat, and CALL YEOSANG.

Thanks Mom. - He replies.

You let your phone drop, and Mingi’s hand lands warmly on your thigh to give you a squeeze. The thought of Wooyoung going into heat is making your mind flick back to your own. His hands, this car, the way Yunho glances at you in the rearview mirror. It’s all seared into your memory from a different time.

Not only that, and you’re a little ashamed to admit it, but there’s something to be said for the way your alphas flanked you all day just to keep you safe. After ten hours of it, you’re a little addicted to the way Yunho’s hand feels on the small of your back or the weight of Mingi’s hand on your thigh. If anyone at the studio was unaware of your relationship, it’s crystal clear now. They kept close to you as if Minseok was around any corner, and you suspect their intensity was as much for them as it was for you.

They stay stuck to you until you’re all safely back in the apartment, and then suddenly with the door locked tight behind you, they fall away. Mingi stretches and yawns, dropping his coat on a hook by the door before disappearing into the kitchen to start dinner. Yunho drops a perfunctory kiss on the crown of your head and mentions that he’s going to change, and then you’re standing in the foyer by yourself.

It’s been days since you’ve felt something stirring in you, possibly even weeks. You haven’t had room to feel that pull in your gut, heat flushing your cheeks, wetness pooling in your core. You’ve been too busy and too stressed to be horny, but suddenly you’re full of wanting.

You’re not in heat, nowhere even close, but with the sudden way you need to touch them it almost feels like that.

Your cunt is throbbing.

At the sound of a pan making contact with the stovetop in the kitchen, your legs start moving.

Mingi glances to the side when he sees you enter the kitchen and he smiles, “Hey, babe,”

“Can dinner wait?” You say in a rush.

His brows draw together and he turns towards you, “What’s up?”

“I just,” You can’t help but get distracted by his muscled arms, the dip of his chest where his tank top cuts low, “maybe we should order in,”

“I thought you wanted japchae?” He nods towards the pan to his side.

You all but pounce on him when you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug his lips down to meet yours, pressing the length of your body against his and panting gently against his lips, “Mingi,”

He makes a muffled sigh, his hands closing on your waist as he holds you up, his body relaxing into yours naturally, “Babe?”

“Shh,” You shake your head a little, your hand skating down his chest and over his nipple.

He shudders and you feel him responding instantly, hardening against your belly. His mouth parts, tongue dipping past your lips to flick along yours, hot breath warm and welcome against your cheek.

Your body pulses with need, and the thick perfume of your scent fills the kitchen. Mingi’s hands tighten as he inhales the rich syrupy honey and he breaks the kiss, “Baby,” he softens and finds your eyes, “when’s your heat?”

“Not now,” You shake your head and brush him off, pulling at his t-shirt again in an attempt to drag his lips to yours, “it’s not for at least another month,”

“Then what’s gotten into you?” He asks, angling away to try and get to the bottom of your sudden neediness.

You know it technically isn’t a rejection, but god it still feels like one, and you push back two steps to clear some space, “Nothing,” you sigh, “sorry,”

“Whoa, whoa,” Mingi shakes his head and catches your hand in his, “wherever your brain just went, you’re wrong,”

“If you’re not in the mood,” Embarrassment feels thick around you and you can’t quite meet his eyes.

Mingi laughs sharply and steps close again, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your hair, “I have never not been in the mood with you, babe,”

You swallow tightly, nodding into his chest.

“But,” He adds, “it’s been a while since we’ve done anything, and ever since… you’ve been tense every time things get a little heated,”

“I’m sorry,” You breathe.

“Why in the world are you apologizing?” Mingi groans and separates from you so he can look at you eye to eye, his hands cupping your cheeks.

Your throat tightens. There’s a million reasons you feel sorry, but you sigh into him and lean against his warm palm, “I feel like I can’t get my shit together, it’s a lot for you both to put up with. I just want to want you, I want it to be like it was. I don’t want him here, I… I don’t know,”

Mingi listens patiently, but as you start to lose steam he nods, “Got it,” he steps forward and scoops you up into his arms, “this is more serious than I thought,”

“M-Mingi, what are you doing?” You grip his shoulders as he maneuvers you bridal style into his arms before carrying you out into the next room.

“Yunho!” Mingi calls as he heads for the hall, “Get out here,”

He doesn’t stop at Yunho’s bedroom door though, instead he pushes further down the hall to his bedroom - your bedroom. The room doesn’t quite feel like yours yet, but with the changes he’s made to the space to welcome you and Yunho into it, and the addition of the sprawling pack bed, you know it will start to feel more and more like yours everyday.

Behind Mingi you hear Yunho’s old bedroom door open and a questioning sound, but you barely hear it as Mingi stops at the foot of the bed and plops you straight down in the center of it.

“What,” You start to ask, but Mingi turns from you as Yunho follows into the room.

“What’s going on?” He asks, glancing between the two of you.

“Our girlfriend,” He smiles at the word, keeping his eyes on you while he addresses Yunho, “seems to be under the impression that she’s too much for us to put up with,”

You open your mouth to protest, but Yunho’s head snaps to yours, “What?”

“Mm,” Mingi nods, “ridiculous, I know, but she seems to think having a completely normal response to a traumatic incident is a lot for us to deal with,”

Your cheeks grow hot, “Mingi, stop,”

“I was gone for three minutes,” Yunho’s brow furrows, “what could have happened in three minutes?”

“y/n tried to jump my bones,” Mingi grins.

“You’re leaving out the part where you rejected me,” You can’t stop the words, the way he pushed you away in the kitchen still stinging.

He reaches for you then, his hand closing around your ankle to drag you down the bed so that you’re seated on the edge. You let out a small noise of surprise, but before you can work out what he’s doing, he’s dropped your foot and crouched in front of you, wide hands resting on your hips.

“Not a rejection,” He shakes his head, face far more serious, “a question.”

“What was the question?” Yunho asks, moving further into the room. He leaves you both space, but leans his hips against the dresser behind Mingi.

“I want to know what’s gotten into you,” Mingi reaches up, brushing your cheek gingerly and moving to stroke your hair, “because I want nothing more than to have you, pretty much every second of every day, but never at the expense of hurting you.”

“O-oh,” You soften a little at that.

Mingi lips turn up slightly in a smile, “You’re not too much,” he says quietly, “you’re not something for us to put up with, and you don’t have to apologize to us for anything. Yunho, back me up here,”

He takes a steady breath in, moving to crouch next to Mingi, “There’s nothing to put up with,” he says, “there’s just this thing that happened that we have to work through together and that’s not an obligation. You and what you need are not obligations.”

Warmth pricks at your eyes and your stomach flutters.

“I also think there’s something you may not realize,” Mingi adds, drawing your attention back to him, “but Yunho and I are also scared of hurting you, or triggering something by accident.”

Yunho nods immediately, one hand finding your thigh to give you a comforting squeeze.

“Yeah?”

“Everytime you freeze up or flinch I wonder if I should have touched you differently, or not touched you at all,” Yunho admits.

Mingi nods, “The minute I catch the scent of your fear, I’m right back in that room with you. What happened affected all of us, there’s going to be things we both do that you have to deal with too, does that make sense?”

The knot between your shoulders releases and you sigh, “Yeah,”

“Like today, if you hadn’t been with one of us all day I think I would have gone insane,” Mingi offers.

Yunho swallows tightly and nods, “Completely insane,”

You can’t help but smile, “You both seemed pretty relaxed,”

“That’s because I could see you,” Yunho smiles, stroking his hand up and down your thigh, “with Minseok out in the world again our protective instincts are in hyperdrive, sweetheart,”

“I’m,” You start to say, but Mingi cuts you off.

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” He sighs.

“I wasn’t,” You nudge him with your knee, “I was going to say that I’m glad,”

“Oh,” He deflates.

“I feel bad that there’s a reason for you to feel so tense,” You clarify a little, “but to have you both there for me like that? All I felt was safe, all day.”

“Good,” Yunho brings your knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss there, “that’s good.”

“Honestly,” You laugh a little, “I liked it,”

“Well that was obvious,” Mingi squeezes your hip, “from the way you perfumed all over me,”

“Shut up,” You blush again.

“Mm,” Yunho teases a little, “protective alphas get you hot, hmm?”

“Oh my god,” You roll your eyes, but the flutter in your lower belly tends to agree with him.

Mingi smiles, but clears his throat and starts to sober, “Also, babe,” he squeezes you, “as much as I wanted to fuck you over the kitchen counter, I don’t think the first time we have sex outside of your heat should be so careless,”

Your face drops, realization stretching into you, “You’re right,”

“We need to take our time,” Mingi murmurs, “especially when we aren’t sure of your triggers yet,”

“Definitely,” Yunho nods.

“That makes sense,” You sigh.

“So,” Mingi’s hands slide off you then and he rocks back on his heels, clapping Yunho on the shoulder as he stands, “don’t apologize like that again,”

You feel a little like the world has tilted again.

“I can get dinner going,” Mingi starts to say, and you catch a confused flicker in Yunho’s eyes too as he turns from you to look up at his best friend.

“Mingi,” You try to interrupt him but he’s focused elsewhere, still rambling on about dinner, “Mingi!”

“What?” He turns around, eyes a little wide.

“Are you really not going to fuck me after all that?” You manage.

He shifts from foot to foot and where he had all the right things to say a moment ago, now he seems at a loss for words, “I didn’t think you’d want to after today, with the studio and we were just talking about him,”

Yunho waits, looking back up at you.

“I’m not that fragile,” You shake your head, “and he’s been in my head all day. He always is,”

Yunho’s jaw tightens and releases.

“And you’re right, we should take a little slow,” You tell them, “but I’m ready to figure that out together, I want you both so badly it’s driving me crazy,”

Mingi’s tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he takes a step back towards you both, “You’re sure?”

“Mingi,” You sigh, “baby, I’m sure, I’m ready to climb the walls I’m so horny, and I just really wanted one night where,”

Your words are cut off instantly, Yunho launching up into your space to catch you in a frenzied kiss, your legs parting open to let him crowd you more closely. You moan against his lips, hands finding their way into his hair, your hot center pressed up against his stomach as he dips you back into the sheets.

“Oh, thank god,” Your hips buck up into him as you moan, your head falling back to the mattress.

He takes a deep inhale, shivering in your arms, “You smelling this good outside of your heat should be illegal,”

“Yeah?” You pant, pulling him back to your mouth for another kiss.

“Mhm,” He hums against your lips, “it’s enough to send me into a rut, baby,”

You shudder, the thought of him rutting endlessly into you is enough to make you come, but when you go to pull him closer again you feel this time it’s not you who froze up, but Yunho.

“H-hey,” You lean back a little, smoothing the hair out of his face and catching his guilty expression, “what’s wrong?”

Mingi stands stock still to the side, his arms crossed and a serious expression across his face.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” He shakes his head, “I just meant you’re perfect, you’re… I didn’t mean that,”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up, but the penny drops when you think of Minseok. His excuses, his pleas, all the things he must have said to them to try to weasel out of his actions while you were trapped in headspace.

“Okay,” You shuffle back a little and sit up, reaching up for Mingi, “can you please come over here? You’re making me nervous standing around like a bodyguard,”

He drops his arms and nods, finding a place next to you on the bed, hands in his lap.

“Funny enough,” You catch Yunho’s eye, “the thought of you in a rut didn’t bother me at all,”

Yunho’s expression clears a bit, “It didn’t?”

You shake your head, “No,” you explain, “if it bothers you, then that’s different, but if you’re just worried about upsetting me,”

Yunho sighs heavily, dropping his forehead to your thighs as he sinks back to a kneeling seat on the floor, “We’re a mess,”

“Fully,” You laugh lightly, “we’re never going to christen this bed if we keep walking on eggshells,”

Mingi’s shoulders relax, and he reaches to press a hand to your upper back, fingers lightly curling around the sides of your neck. A pleasant, unexpected thrill passes through you at the sensation, and quietly you catalog it. Your neck has been such a sore, sensitive spot since the incident, but right now Mingi’s hand feels right.

“What do we do?” Yunho kisses your thighs and leans back up, “I don’t think either one of us is willing to hurt you,”

Mingi shakes his head.

“Accidentally triggering me isn’t willingness to hurt me,” You correct him softly, “and triggering me doesn’t necessarily mean I fall to pieces,”

He nods a little.

“Like what you did last week,” You point out to him, “when you kissed my neck,”

Gears start to turn in his brain, you watch it happening as his expression changes and you and Mingi both stay quiet while he works it out.

Finally, Yunho nods, “What triggers do we know about?”

“When you touch my neck,” The easiest, and most obvious.

You all think for a moment, and Mingi clears his throat, “You get jumpy when we’re both behind you,”

“That’s true,” You nod, “when I can’t see either of you,”

“Okay,” Yunho nods, “what else?”

You don’t want to think through the incident, not right now, but your mind skips over little moments the past few weeks and all the ways you’ve been on edge. Your eyes flick up to the space on the wall above the dresser, to the large reflection that stretches across the wall, “Mirrors,”

“Good,” Yunho dips forward and kisses you quickly on the forehead before standing, “give me a hand with this,” he says to Mingi.

Your other alpha responds immediately, and you watch as they lift the mirror up off the wall with ease and maneuver it out of the room without a second thought, silently communicating with each other the entire time.

Emotion fills your chest, warmth spreading through you when they cross back into the room looking accomplished. Yunho takes a seat next to you on the edge of the bed and offers you a hand, “Anything else?”

You slip your hand into his as Mingi does the same on your opposite side. You chew the inside of your lip, thinking once again through all the potential pockets of fear. Minseok’s voice echoes in your head - Submit. Heel. Don’t move an inch.

“Tone,” You offer quietly, “I can’t do that,”

It’s something some couples play with in bed, you’ve learned that in your research over the past couple of weeks into subspace and how it works. Some omegas want their alpha to use tone, they relish in the floating disconnection of subspace and the way their body becomes pliant and limp at the hands of their partner. You can’t imagine it, you can’t imagine ever wanting to release that level of control again.

Mingi’s hand grips yours, and he shakes his head, jaw too tightly clenched to form words.

“Hey,” Yunho soothes you, wrapping his arms around you, “that’s not even on the table, it’s not even near the table, okay? We might mess up in other ways without knowing, but I promise you, we’ll never do that with this. Tone isn’t something you use by mistake,”

You nod, and Mingi interjects softly, “You have to want it, you have to put intention behind it to push an omega to comply, that’s not something we can fuck up in the heat of the moment,”

“Okay,” The nerves in your stomach settle.

“If you’re worried though,” Yunho smooths a hand down your back, “we can be a little more careful about giving you directions, or being bossy,”

“Being alphas?” You laugh and shake your head, “No, no honestly I’ve always liked that and I don’t want this fear to ruin that,”

“Okay,” He nods, a soft smile on his lips, “if something doesn’t feel right though, you tell us.”

“For any of it,” Mingi adds, “stop us in the moment, we’ll readjust.”

“Or stop us full on,” Yunho notes, “I know you want to try, but there’s never a point we can’t stop,”

“I know that,” You nod, “I know I’m safe with you both.”

“Always,” Mingi squeezes your hand again, just a quick pulse to punctuate his intention, the truth behind it.

“What about you?” You ask softly, looking between them.

“Us?” Mingi asks.

“Is there something… I don’t know, that day was terrible but I don’t remember a good bit of it,” You explain, “I don’t know what happened when I was under, what might bother you?”

“I don’t know,” Yunho says honestly, “I’m more scared of hurting you than anything, so maybe don’t push yourself too hard?”

“If something starts to bother me?” You clarify.

He nods, “Yeah,”

“I can do that,” You nod, “we can take it slow,”

“Same for me,” Mingi nods, “we’ll figure it out together.”

It’s quiet for a moment, both of them just resting their hands on your body, and you realize they’re not ready to make the first move.

“Yunho,” You take his hand, sliding it up your thigh to your waistband, “I liked what you were doing before,”

“Yeah?” His expression relaxes, tension bleeding out of the room now that you’ve helped change the course.

“Mhm,” You shift on the bed to lean back into Mingi’s body next to yours and let your legs fall open naturally, “it’s been a long time, will you touch me?”

His fingers slide over your side, playing with the edge of your shirt.

“Will you take care of me?” You murmur.

He nods, his eyes darkening a bit and flicking over your body, darting up once to silently communicate with Mingi, “Lay back, sweetheart,”

Mingi shifts to sit next to you, his legs dropping over the edge of the bed and his broad hands coming to your shoulders. “How’s this?” He asks as he draws you down to lie next to him, both flat on your backs but his arm tucked under your neck so he can cuddle you into his side.

“So nice,” You murmur.

“I’ve missed this,” Yunho hums pleasantly as he peels your leggings down over your hips, “I regretted not putting my mouth on you more the minute your heat was over,”

A thrill rolls through you at his words and you shiver, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” He finishing rolling off your leggings and smooths his hands up and down your thighs, catching over your hips and hooking his thumbs in the sides of your thong, “you taste like you were made for us,”

“God,” You shiver, letting your head fall back onto Mingi’s bicep.

“So sweet,” Mingi adds, his free hand coming to rest on your chest, slowly dragging up the fabric of your shirt with his fingers.

“You know,” Yunho taps the side of your hip to prompt you to lift them and you shift immediately so he can discard your underwear too, “now that you’re not in heat we can actually take our time,”

“O-oh,” You shudder.

“Good point,” Mingi smiles, adjusting himself so he’s on his side now to look down at you, “no rush,”

You shiver as Yunho adjusts your legs open, pressing a tender kiss to the inside of your knee as he settles between your splayed thighs. A flutter of anticipation bubbles in you and you sigh, “I don’t know,” you smile, “I might start begging for a knot any second,”

Yunho huffs a little laugh, “You can beg all you want,”

Your mouth runs dry at the implication and you look down, “Yeah?”

He nods, but his eyes are glued to your sex, his expression hungry, “Mhm, this time you don’t need a knot, you just want one.”

You open your mouth to say something, but every thought falls right out of your head when Yunho blows a cool stream of air over your exposed core, your body twitching in response.

“God damn,” Mingi curses, shifting a bit so his arm slides out from under you, leaning up so he can get a good view.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Yunho murmurs, placing a tender kiss to the inside of your right thigh, slowly kissing his way to the top of your mound.

Your hips jolt in response, a spike of needy pleasure lighting up your spine and you nod, “So good,”

“Good girl,” He hums, dipping forwards and kissing your cunt in earnest, tongue dragging up through your folds slow and steady until he finds your tender bud.

You drop back against the sheets, your body shifting and moving on its own as you arch into his touch, your thighs already trembling at the sensation of pleasure building in your body after so much time.

“Oh, baby,” Mingi says, his voice husky, “you’re so beautiful,”

Yunho’s tongue teases you slowly, exploring you with little touches and licks, and you feel him sigh pleasantly between your thighs as he gets comfortable. Mingi slips lower in the bed, pushing your shirt up over your breasts before dropping his own lips to your hot skin. They kiss like they want to breathe you in until they’re dizzy, and as your eyes slip closed all you can focus on is the feeling of their hands holding you, their tongues, warm breath against your dampened skin.

Hands push your sports bra up to strip you off and leave you bare and then Mingi’s mouth closes over one nipple while his fingers tease the other, flicking and sucking in perfect rhythm to match Yunho’s tongue on your clit.

“God,” You shiver, heat pooling low in your belly, “oh, God,”

Yunho hums against you, pushing closer to your wet center so he can suck your tender clit.

You moan sharply, the feeling heady and dizzying, and you reach down to wind your fingers into his hair. He inhales against your skin and you blink your eyes open, looking down to watch as both your alphas lavish your body. Yunho looks up through the hood of his lashes, his face shiny and wet with your slick, and he shifts to open up your thighs more to his needy mouth.

“Fuck,” Your hips buck, fingers tight against his scalp.

Mingi shifts back up, this time pressing heavily into your space and capturing your mouth, his tongue flicking against yours as he dips you back into the sheets.

“Mmm,” Yunho nods into your core, his tongue pressing inside you as he nestles closer, your clit bumping the bridge of his nose.

Your hips roll, chasing the sensation that has already started to make you dizzy, “Oh, g-god,”

Mingi holds you closer now, your body trembling in his arms, and he strokes your sweat-slick skin, “That’s it,” he coaxes you, “that’s it, omega,”

Your thighs start to shake, and Mingi finds your knee so he can hold you open wide for Yunho’s mouth.

You jerk against him, hips jutting with every spike of pleasure, a blush blooming up your chest and cheeks.

“Ride him,” Mingi coaxes you as your hips roll, “just like that, come on his face,”

Yunho’s hands lock down tight, roughly pulling you a little closer so he can keep working his tongue against you, inside you, sensations exploding everywhere they touch you.

“I’m so fucking close,” You whine, the words running together as sweat breaks across your skin, “P-please,”

”That’s our girl,” Mingi nuzzles into the side of your head, his deep tenor making your brain go fuzzy.

“I’m,” Your eyes screw tightly shut, every movement of your body jerky and uncoordinated but every bump of Yunho’s nose against your clit and his tongue inside you has you right on the perfect precipice, “there, there,”

Yunho stays steady, hearing your need without changing pattern or pressure, and the sudden consistent pulse sends you spiraling.

You come hard, your first orgasm in weeks let alone your first non-heat orgasm with them, and you’re caught fully in the torrent of pleasure with your vision going white and a distinct ringing in your ears.

When you start to come through it, you realize you’re turned to the side, your body completely locked up and you’re gripping Mingi’s arm hard with your nails. He’s rolled close behind you to keep his arms there, but he leans over to see your face.

“So good, wasn’t it?” You catch the end of his sentence, blinking your eyes open and humming in response.

“Yeah,” Yunho’s voice now, and you look down to see him kneeling by your now-closed knees, one broad hand sweeping a line up and down your skin, “there you are,”

“I think you killed me,” You smile wide, tucking your face into the mattress, “you’re talking to a ghost,”

Yunho laughs, and Mingi hums a pleased sound, nuzzling you some more, “Come back over here, gorgeous girl,”

You let him roll you back over into the same position you started in, only this time your body feels like jelly.

“Good?”

“Delicious,” It’s the only word you can think of for how good it all feels.

Yunho nudges your thighs open again and you glance down.

“More?” He grins.

“What about you two?” You’re about halfway through the sentence when Yunho brushes his fingers over your clit again and your words end in a breathy moan.

“We’ve got all night,” Mingi reminds you, “and judging by how hard Yunho is, I think he likes getting you off,”

“Shut up,” Yunho scolds him gently before dropping a warm kiss on your inner thigh, “don’t tell me your dick couldn’t cut glass right now,”

Mingi huffs a laugh, “We have a whiny, desperate, moaning mess of an omega in our bed,” his fingers slide along your side as he talks and you twitch under his hands, “of course I’m hard.”

“Mm,” Yunho kisses up your dripping slit, “baby, why don’t you help him out with that while I take care of you?”

“Y-yeah, yes,” You reach for Mingi, “please, let me help,”

Mingi licks his lips, his hand drifting down to his clothed cock and your eyes flick down to follow. He’s straining against the fabric of his sweatpants, and you clumsily try to open them from your twisted position on the bed for a moment before he stops you.

“Here,” Mingi gets up and shucks off his clothes entirely, settling back down into the same position. He’s achingly hard, the head pink and leaking precum, and you blush at the dirty thoughts that flit through your mind one right after another.

“I can wait,” He offers.

“Fuck,” You shake your head, “I can’t,”

Mingi groans, his hand pumping over his cock once.

“Her mouth,” Yunho suggests between languid licks at your pussy, “trust me,”

You’re nodding before Mingi can even ask if that’s okay, “Please,” you prop yourself up on the bed a little better, “let me taste,”

“Fuck,” Mingi curses.

The three of you move and adjust in tandem until you’re propped at the very edge of the bed for Yunho between your legs, and supported by a pillow behind your shoulder so that you can be slightly turned to the side to reach Mingi where he kneels at your head, his thighs parted wide to drop low and get his cock level with your mouth.

They’re both fully still as you slide forwards, dropping your mouth open and letting the very tip of Mingi’s fat cock pass through your lips and over your tongue.

Mingi moans, and you hum in response.

“You two look perfect,” Yunho murmurs.

“Yeah?” Mingi’s hand brushes over your head, “You hear that, babe? You look perfect sucking my cock,”

You hum around him, taking him deeper into your mouth.

Yunho kisses your mound gently, and you know that’s your warning that he’s about to start again. You gently buck your hips to let him know you’re ready, and he hums softly. Before he starts though, he reaches one hand up and finds where yours is twisted in the sheets, pulling your fingers away so he can hold your hand instead.

He squeezes your hand twice, hard, “If you need air,” he tells you.

You pulse your hand back once to acknowledge his words.

He responds with a sharp thrust of two fingers inside your tight channel and you groan around Mingi’s cock.

“Shit,” Mingi grips you, “jesus, babe,”

Through hooded lashes you look up at him and his jaw tightens, his breath coming in hot exhales through his nose. Whatever you’re doing with your tongue is exactly what he needs and it springs you forwards.

The position isn’t perfect, but it’s close, and so you ignore the little bit of discomfort in your back to give him what he needs. You bob your head back and forth, dragging Mingi’s cock deeper into your warm mouth with every forward sink. He doesn’t direct your movements, but his hand in your hair feels comforting, steady, and makes you want to take him all the more.

“So good,” Mingi pants, “fuck yes, pretty girl,”

Your cunt clenches around Yunho’s fingers and you hear him chuckle between your thighs.

“Ah, ah,” Mingi huffs as you take him further into your throat, “she likes that?”

Yunho lifts his tongue from your clit, “Uh-huh,” he nips a little bite at your inner thigh, “she’s slicking all over my fingers,”

You groan, you didn’t know how they would really be outside of your heat. Heat makes everyone blurry and needy messes, but hearing how filthy they can be on a regular weeknight? No heat, no special occasion, just all of you together? You’re getting dizzy.

“Mm,” Mingi locks his eyes on your face, watching the way you take him nearly to the hilt, “look at you trying to take it all,”

You sink further, ignoring the burn in your jaw and the flickering gag reflex at the back of your throat until your nose is pressed against his pubic bone.

“Jesus f-fuck,” Mingi groans, his head falling back, “that’s it, good fucking girl,”

Yunho’s lips close over your clit again and he sucks hard, ripping a muffled whine from your throat.

“Please,” Mingi begs, and you shiver at the sound of your alpha begging for you, not the other way around.

You pull free from his length and take a deep breath before diving back forwards, this time working him fast and a little sloppy. His fingers tighten up when you tease the head of his cock with the hard tip of your tongue, and his hips jerk every time you slide down about halfway, and with some sort of steady rhythm you double your efforts.

Yunho curses between your legs softly, and then you feel him move, tipping your legs open wider and readjusting his fingers inside you. Your eyes widen when you feel him curl them, locating your spongy g-spot and confirming it with a test jerk of his fingers that sends a shudder through your body as you moan.

He gets the spot right again, and then you’re done for. Between the quick juts of his fingers inside you, repeatedly hitting your sweet spot, and the feeling of his tongue torturing your swollen bud, you don’t have long.

“God,” Mingi pants, “listen to you,”

You’re a wet and whiny mess just like he’s said, only this time your mouth on his cock makes the sound of the room all the more lewd.

“Are you going to come for us again?” Mingi says, voice thready, “Our perfect omega,”

You whine, and you feel Mingi’s cock twitch in your mouth. Everything is foggy and hot, a building knot deep in your core, something bubbling up fast inside you and your hips jerk against Yunho’s fingers.

His thumb brushes the back of your knuckles and your eyes roll back, your orgasm rushing towards you fast.

Mingi’s groaning though, he’s close to spilling himself hot down your throat and when his hips jerk on their own you nod to let him know he can keep going. Falling forwards onto his knees he braces one hand against the mattress and keeps the other rooted in your hair, letting himself rock his hips just enough to drag his length in and out of your lips, over your tongue exactly where he needs the pressure.

”Someday I’m gonna knot that pretty mouth, baby,” He groans.

You moan hard, your back arching up.

Yunho uses your combined hands to push you back down flat to the mattress, and the pressure change has you ready to burst.

There’s so much happening at once, so much sensation pulsing through your body and despite the way that Mingi fucks your face, you’re acutely aware of the warm bubble in your belly dropping low and feeling unlike any orgasm you’ve ever had before.

You whine hard, your head jerking back a little, but Mingi doesn’t pick up on what you need immediately, he’s too close, “I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m g-gonna,”

Yunho takes a sharp breath and then closes his lips over your clit, sucking fast and hard, his fingers pumping firmly at the exact rhythm you need like a metronome counting you through the last beats of your pleasure before the hard crescendo.

Something tightens in your gut, almost painfully and unfamiliar, and you whine harshly again, yanking back from Mingi hard enough that he stutters and lets you go. You fall back into the pillows just as the knot in your gut snaps and you come hot and hard with a staggered cry, arching into Yunho’s mouth as clear fluid starts to pulse from your core.

“Good girl,” He croons, sliding his hand up your wet pussy to rub fast and hard across your clit, prolonging the striking wave, “oh my god, baby, yes, fuck,”

”S-shit,” Mingi falters, his own release ripped away the minute you pulled back, and he makes the neediest whine you’ve ever heard from an alpha in all your life.

You’ll help, you will, as soon as you regain some semblance of which way is up and which is down and use of your arms.

Yunho’s quicker though, he squeezes your hand once before he pulls away, dropping your legs and making sure you’re not going to slide off the bed before he climbs up next to you both.

“You’re alright,” He murmurs, but it’s not to you, and you blink hard to clear the dizzy orgasm away and refocus.

When you turn your head you nearly lose your mind, the sight of your alphas together too good to even have imagined up in your darkest little fantasies. Mingi is still gripping the mattress with one hand and your hair with the other, but Yunho is wrapped behind him and reaching around to work his packmate’s cock with steady, fast strokes.

“F-fuck,” Mingi moans, “h-harder,”

Yunho drops his forehead against Mingi’s broad shoulder and lets his eyes close, picking up the pace of his hand, “Look at her, watch our pretty omega,”

Mingi groans, his eyes blinking open until he finds you.

You reach up, snaking a hand through the tangled mess of arms until you find Mingi’s hard nipple. His eyes widen and he hisses as you pass a thumb over it, shuddering between you both.

“Alpha,” You beg, “come,”

“O-oh my g-,” Mingi chokes as you start to flick his nipple a little more firmly.

”That’s it,” Yunho pants, and you see him looking down at you too, “help him,”

“Mingi,” You whine like you’re starving for him, “come for me, please, please,”

He gasps, hips canting forwards and jerking into Yunho’s fist, holding you steady on the bed as he releases, spurts of milky cum panting your lips, your cheeks, spattering across your naked breasts.

It takes a minute for you all to recover, the only sound in the room the heavy breath shared between you, but you watch as Yunho gently releases Mingi’s softening cock, bracing himself by holding Mingi’s hips for just a moment while he catches his own breath before sliding back and off the bed entirely.

Mingi shifts back, his cheeks and chest flushed pink and the reality of what just happened sinks into you. You have no idea if they’ve ever touched each other before like that, and you all but hold your breath to see where things go from here.

You listen as Yunho pads out of the room and into the connected bathroom, and after a moment of rustling around he returns with two towels. He tosses one down on the floor and you remember suddenly how your own orgasm ended.

”Oh, fuck,” You cover your eyes, “I’m sorry,”

”Don’t be,” Yunho says, “I loved it,”

”Still,” You sigh, “I’ve never done that before,”

Mingi huffs a tiny laugh next to you, and you pull your hand away to look up at him. He smiles a little, “That makes two of us,”

Yunho kneels on the bed, shifting a little closer, and passes the damp end of a towel over all the places you’re still covered in Mingi’s cum. He seems profoundly unaffected by all of it, and you’re a second from asking if he’s okay, but he gets there first.

“Sweetheart,” His gaze is soft and easy, and he looks down at you warmly while he cleans up your cheek, “can I touch your neck?”

You love him.

”Yeah,” You nod, stretching a little so he can reach.

He passes the towel over your throat quickly, “How are you feeling?”

“Really good,” You brush your hand along his arm.

He nods, tossing the towel to the edge of the bed. He looks at you a moment longer, but then he looks up to Mingi and clears his throat, “You good?”

“Yeah,”

You look between them, noticing the unspoken conversation passing between them.

“I hope I didn’t,” Yunho trails off.

“You didn’t,” Mingi promises, “it’s us,”

Yunho sighs, one of his hands coming to rest warmly on your stomach and the other reaching for your other alpha, “Good,”

It’s quiet for a beat, and you need to know where they’re at before you nervously combust.

“Um,” You shift in the sheets until you’re pushing yourself up to a seat with them, “are we… is everything…” you can’t figure out how to ask what you’re asking, so you settle on the only thing that makes sense, “are we good?”

“Of course we are,” Mingi reaches for you, tugging you into his side and pressing a kiss to your lips.

”Sorry,” Yunho squeezes your thigh, “we didn’t mean to exclude you,”

“No, no,” You shake your head, “that’s between you,”

“No,” Yunho disagrees, “we’re all together, and there should never be any questions or secrets,”

“Mhm,” Mingi agrees, “but like I said, it’s us. It doesn’t have to mean anything, but things have always been different where we’re concerned,” He gestures between himself and Yunho.

“But you’ve never?” You let the implication speak for itself.

Yunho shakes his head.

“We made out in college once,” Mingi says, a laugh on his lips, “but we were pretty drunk and it was for a dare,”

“We weren’t that drunk,” Yunho shrugs.

“Hmm,” You stretch your aching limbs and tangle your fingers with Yunho, “I would have loved to have been there for that,”

Mingi laughs earnestly now and tugs you up into his lap, “I didn’t know you’d be such a horny little mess outside of your heat,”

Your core flutters but you tease him right back, “I’m an omega,” you roll your eyes, “we’re all horny messes,”

“That’s convenient then,” He kisses you, nipping at your lip, “since you have two alphas here who want nothing more than to keep you locked on our knots all day,”

You shiver a little.

“Yunho,” Mingi looks up, “come here,”

Yunho’s body heat envelops you on your left side, and they move you until you’re cradled in both their arms, body spread across their laps while Yunho holds your top half in the crook of his left arm and Mingi supports the rest of you.

They lean against each other, bare shoulder to bare shoulder and your mind starts to wander down the path of all of you together again.

“Maybe you were always meant to be pack,” You point out softly, and their hands still where they stroke your skin.

Yunho nods and looks over to Mingi, “We were fast friends,”

“True,” He murmurs.

Yunho smiles and looks down again, “Maybe we just needed to find you,”

“I forgot how much of a romantic you are,”

He dips down to press a fast kiss to your lips, “One of us should be,”

“I’m not complaining,” You peck his lips quick as he leans back up, “never stop,”

Mingi gives your hip a squeeze, and then he takes Yunho’s hand in his, “Let’s romantically make our girl come again,”

Yunho chuckles, low and warm in his chest, “What do you have in mind?”

You watch as Mingi guides Yunho’s fingers down to your entrance only this time he pushes his own fingers in right alongside. The stretch is sudden and perfect and you moan softly, gripping down on Yunho’s knee.

“Show me how you made her come before,” Mingi’s eyes are glued to your core, “I didn’t get to appreciate it before,”

Yunho grins, “Gladly,”

Your next two orgasms are a blur of sensation, their combined attentions pulling feeling out of you that you didn’t know existed without your heat. Mingi’s lavishing you with his tongue, cleaning you up from the mess you’ve made, when you finally make an overstimulated squeak and push his head away.

“Mm,” He kisses your clit, “fine,”

“If either one of you wants to actually fuck me,” You yawn, “I need a break,”

“Sleep,” Yunho pulls a blanket up and over your body, “we’ll be here when you wake up,”

You’d protest, but it sounds too good now that you’re cocooned in the blanket and buried in the pillows. When Mingi collapses at your other side and you have both of them around you, you drift.

You wake to lazy kisses, sleepy nuzzling from both of them, their hands drifting over your body.

You stretch into it, finding both of them hard and warm and wanting.

“Mm,” Mingi curls over your side, kissing any part of skin he can, “hi, sleepyhead,”

You gasp sharply as his mouth closes over your nipple.

“You were moving around in your sleep,” Yunho’s hand coasts up your thigh as he nudges closer, “bad dreams or good dreams?”

You moan as Mingi sucks a little harder, “No dreams,”

“Needy even asleep?” Mingi teases.

“I,” You start to say, but you feel Yunho’s cock nudging at the apex of your thighs, the head pushing against your clit.

“Fuck,” Yunho sighs, “you’re still wet,”

You shiver, and he pushes his hips forward a little to slide his cock against your slick slit further.

His hands tighten on you and he shudders a sigh into your hair.

“Please,” You part your knees, “no more teasing, I, just, please,”

Mingi shifts away from your back to give you a little space and without hesitation Yunho rolls you. Your legs part open naturally now that you’re on your back.

“Is this okay?” Yunho murmurs, brushing the hair back from your face as he settles above you and in between your splayed knees.

“Mhm,” You soothe him, his nerves evident despite the heat between you all in the room.

“And this?” He asks softly, the velvet head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

“Slow,” You gasp as he starts to push in, and he adjusts his pace. As always, his size dwarfs you, and it takes you time to adjust. In heat it’s easy to take an alpha’s cock with almost no preparation, your body producing enough slick and your muscles adjusting so that days of sex and knotting don’t feel so difficult.

Outside of heat you can take it too, but it’s not as quick and simple.

Your eyes flutter shut, focusing on the stretch of it, the ache, the way your channel seems to resist and then give way to him in the most warm and dizzying pleasure.

“Sweetheart,” He whispers, “are you with me?”

“Mhm,” You look back up at him, “you feel incredible.”

He sighs, relief in his eyes, and with one more careful push he seats himself fully inside you.

“You feel,” You shiver, words dying on your lips.

He smiles as he lowers himself down, resting an elbow on either side of your head and lacing one hand in your hair, “How do I feel, little omega?”

Your muscles flutter and clench around him and you sigh, “Big, it’s… god it’s so much more than when I was in heat,”

“No pain?”

“No,” You let your fingers stroke up and down the length of his back.

“Good,” He hums, dipping down to kiss you tenderly, “because you’re perfect, you feel perfect around me,”

His tongue dips into your mouth this time, a soft kiss turns needy, and slowly he starts to move, thrusting his hips shallowly just to get you used to the sensation.

Mingi shifts to rest close to you both, his fingers running up and down your arm softly, and you reach for him to twine your fingers together as you watch Yunho watching you.

“Yunho,” you breathe, “baby,”

You can feel the emotion rolling off him in waves, the tenderness as he presses himself deeper into you.

“Sweetheart,” His fingers brush along your cheek, “I, god, I,”

“I know,” your head falls back, and you grip Mingi’s hand.

Yunho picks up the pace slightly, a little faster and a little more with each stroke and he shudders when he hears a sharp moan, “Good?”

“Please, don’t stop,” You beg him, gripping down onto his shoulder with your free hand.

He adjusts your bodies, pressing over yours so that your hips rock with his in a rolling rhythm, and his lips capture yours. His warm breath, the pressure of him above you, waves of sensation as you breathe in his warm, safe scent.

You’re creeping up to the edge of an orgasm, but you feel him shudder above you before he moans against your mouth and you pull him tight to you.

“Please,” you moan, “Yunho please,”

“Say it,” he whispers, “tell me,”

The words spill out of you, “Baby, I, god, I love you,”

His hips slow and he meets your eyes, absolute tender adoration rolling off him in waves when he replies, “I love you so much,”

“I missed you,” You confess, a sudden rush of emotion through your chest and tears pricking at your eyes. Blinking hard you look to the side to find Mingi and squeeze his hand, “I missed you both. I love you both,”

Mingi’s expression crumbles and he presses forwards to kiss you, his lips connecting to yours with intensity, his free hand against your face, a sigh on his lips when he leans back. His thumb brushes along your cheekbone, his eyes misty, “You’re our omega, our mate,” he corrects, “we’re never letting go of you again.”

“Mingi,” You soften.

“I love you,” He replies, kissing the back of your hand.

When Mingi slides back a little further, you look back to Yunho and see that he's frozen still above you, watching you both with warmth. When you meet his eyes, a small smile plays across his mouth, “Can you take more, baby?”

Your body jerks gently against him, just the implication that he would fuck you earnestly making your mind dizzy, and all you can do is nod, “Yes, yes,”

He rocks back down on you in an instant, gathering you as close as he can while he fucks you soft, meeting your mouth and saying everything he needs to in the kiss. All the apologies, the amends, he pours it all into this until he hears you whining beneath him, arcs of pleasure spiking up your spine with every deep roll of his pelvis against your clit and push of his cock in deeper.

“Like that?” He pants against your cheek.

“Don’t you dare stop,” You arch against him, holding him tightly to you as you let him move.

Something about the slow steady pressure he’s applying is making you careen back up to the top of pleasure. There’s a time and a place for hard and deep, but this? This has you melting into his hands in a way you’d never have expected and your legs quiver as you try to hitch your calves on his hips to give him a deeper angle.

“C-close?” He manages.

You nod, twisting your head to the side to catch his mouth again.

“Mm,” He groans against your mouth, “I can feel it,”

Your fingers tighten on him.

“Fuck,” He curses, his movements staying controlled and slow, firm but not too fast.

Tears gather in your eyes, the way the bubble is building inside of you is almost painfully good, and heat spreads over every inch of your skin before concentrating hot on your core. You feel the bed shift, and without looking you know Mingi is close by, all of your scents mingling together now in a way that bubbles emotion deep in your chest.

You think that this is what people mean when they say making love.

Your back arches, fingers digging into him, tears spill over your temples and into your hair as you let your head rock back, “Alpha,” you whine.

Yunho moans above you, and he mutters something on his lips but you can barely hear it.

This time when your neck stretches long and open to them, you know they won’t hurt you. Mingi’s hand slides underneath to cup the top of your neck and the base of your head, his fingers mingling with Yunho’s in your hair.

“We’re here, omega,” Mingi murmurs low, “let go for us,”

A tight strained noise bubbles from your lips as the feeling builds.

“You’re safe,” Mingi soothes.

Yunho shudders a moan, and you feel the slow swell of his knot starting to bump against your slick hole. He’s desperately close but holding on as best he can for you to get there first.

Mingi directs his next words away from your ear, “Don’t stop, she’s nearly,”

Yunho makes a noise, and you feel his fingers grip down.

It hits you like a snap of fire, your limbs a shaking mess, and you cry out sharply and twist beneath them in the sheets, pleasure overtaking you until you think you may not be able to take a second more.

“Shh,” one of your alphas says, but you’re too far gone to know which.

You’re a mess, the orgasm seemingly never-ending, and you can feel the hot tears and hear the way you’re sobbing in pleasure but it’s disconnected and floaty.

Yunho’s hips start to slow and then you start to feel him pull back entirely and something deep inside you panics.

Snapping forward you wrap your arms harder around him and pull him back down, your brain too fuzzy to say anything more coherent than, “Knot,” you beg, “please,”

He folds back over you, shifting your hips up and open wider, and though you can see the brief flicker of hesitation in his eyes he starts to snap his hips harder into you, the steady click of your wet skin against his the only clear sound in the room.

His cock spearing you open is so much sensation you can’t focus on anything else, every connection of your bodies and kiss of his skin pushing an overstimulated moan from your lips.

Yunho’s close now, his hands tight, breath thready, and he gathers you closer to his chest until you’re cupped against his breastbone.

“S-she,” He chokes.

“She’s alright,” Mingi assures him, his hand still warm against your back.

He’s scared for you, still so concerned about hurting you or being too much for you, especially out of your heat and especially after everything. He doesn’t understand that this kind of need, this want for each other so wholly is healing parts of you that you didn’t know were broken.

You tug him closer, kiss his chest where’s you’re cradled, “Yunho,” you whine, “knot me, b-baby knot me, come,”

He collapses, hips thrusting hard and then you feel the sudden push of something wide, the stretch as it locks inside, and then the warm sensation of his release filling you.

Yunho’s still panting hot against your skin when you feel Mingi shift, pushing Yunho back from your body so he can see you. He finds your chin, pulling your face up gently to meet his.

Yunho responds too, the head rush of his own release fading enough that he can focus and his hands smooth back your damp hair, “Are you alright?” His voice is shaky, “Sweetheart, did I hurt you?”

“God, no,” You breathe.

Mingi slides down in the sheets while still gingerly holding your chin, trying to get a good look at your eyes, “Babe?”

“Hmm,” You blink, finding his face more clearly, “hey,”

“Hey,” He smiles, but you can still see an anxiety in him.

“What’s wrong?” Your head is finally starting to clear enough for you to realize that they don’t seem relaxed in post-coital bliss, they seem stressed.

He shakes his head a little, lost for something to say, but his wide hand slides up and his thumb brushes along your cheekbone to your temple, “You’re crying,” he murmurs, “you were crying,”

“I’m okay,” You shake your head, “I’m more than okay, I’m… it was so good, it was,”

Mingi sighs heavily, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder, “Oh fuck,”

Yunho presses a hard kiss to your forehead as he exhales his own relief against your hair. His knot starts to soften, and your hips naturally start to shift away to separate you, but with Yunho heavy above you it’s impossible.

“Easy,” He murmurs against your skin, and you hear him breath in sharply in a way that sounds like he’s pushing back his own tears, “let me,”

It takes a moment, but as soon as his knot is down enough he slides out of your slick channel. He drops to the side of the bed that Mingi isn’t occupying and drags up one of the blankets to cover the three of you.

Mingi stretches out beside you too, and in a moment you’re cuddled between them.

“Closer,” You tug them in. After that, you need to be absolutely enveloped in them.

They both shift in until all of your legs are tangled together, and Mingi brushes your cheeks again, “Babe,”

“I promise,” You reach up to brush away any lingering wetness under your eyes, “it was just overwhelming, but in the best way. I can’t explain,”

“It was,” Yunho agrees softly.

“I just,” You feel another bubble of emotion as you recall it, trying to understand how to articulate it, “it’s like I could feel you both so much closer, more than I could for my heat, more than…. I don’t know, I just realized that you’re really mine. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I…”

Yunho shakes his head, “We’re the ones who can’t believe we have you,”

You twist in the bed, wrapping your arms around Yunho and hugging him close, “I love you,” you kiss his lips, his cheek, “thank you for taking care of me,”

He softens, “Always,”

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” You need him to understand, “but you made me feel so loved and so safe,”

Your hand reaches back to find Mingi so you can tug him closer still and he slides up to your back and wraps an arm around the two of you.

“Both of you,” You hold them close, “no one’s ever made me feel like this,”

Mingi nods against you.

You hold each other close, breathing in the same air for a few moments, no one willing to rush the comedown when it was as emotional as it was. You stretch long in the bed between them to ease the sensation back into all your limbs and Yunho’s eyes darken, flicking down to take in your naked body again.

He’s half hard again by the time you’ve relaxed into the sheets and you smile.

Mingi’s fingers stroke up and down the smooth plane of your abdomen, light enough to tickle.

“Again?” You ask, a little breathless.

“Mhm,” Mingi draws his hand down lower, teasing just a little with the tips of his fingers.

“God,” You shiver.

Yunho nods, “Definitely again,”

“Mm,” Mingi rolls his fingers over your clit, “next heat, we’ll both fuck you together, wouldn’t that be perfect, pretty girl?”

A distinct flicker of need passes through you at his words. You do want that. You want it so bad you shudder and moan, your fingers digging into Yunho’s chest.

You shake your head and push Mingi’s arm away, “We should try,”

“What, now?” For the first time you see him truly caught off guard.

“Please,” You nod, “we don’t need to wait, I want you both,”

Yunho’s hand smooths up and down your arm, “It might be too much,”

“So then we stop,” You counter.

Mingi wets his lips, thinking it through and then he nods, “I’m not knotting your ass,”

You blush.

“Today,” He adds, “but, okay, let’s try.”

“Who do you want where, baby?” Yunho’s fingers trace your jaw lightly.

“Um,” You look between them, a little dizzy at how quickly they agreed, how immediately this is about to happen, “I’m not sure,”

Yunho looks up, “You take her ass,”

Your core clenches and Mingi smiles at the blush in your cheeks.

“Sweetheart,” Yunho rolls onto his back, “come right up here,”

Slowly you ease one leg over and settle yourself over his cock. You’re still dripping with slick and Yunho’s last release, and it makes the slide easy as you sink down and bury him right back where he belongs.

He exhales sharply, “Perfect,”

Mingi leans back, finding the bedside table and pulling out the drawer, searching for the lube he knows is there that he’s definitely going to need with you not in heat. When he comes back he’s still sitting next to you and Yunho but he faces you, and you’re about to ask why he’s not already behind you when he cracks open the top of the lube and applies some to his index and middle fingers.

“Oh,” You breathe softly.

He slides closer on his knees now and reaches around you, “Lean forward a little on Yunho,”

You do just as he asks, and Yunho brings his hands up to brace you at the ribs, making sure that he’s supporting you from below.

“Babe,” He kisses your shoulder, “outside of the heat with us, have you ever done this?”

His fingers slide slowly over the tight ring of muscle and you twitch, “Been d-double penetrated?”

Mingi laughs at your description and Yunho smiles up at you. Mingi shakes his head, “No, has anyone ever touched you here?”

He presses with his finger but doesn’t push in and heat floods up your belly, “Mm-mm” you manage.

“Have you ever played with yourself like this?” He finally starts to push in a digit and you gasp, “Ever put anything inside?”

“N-no,” You moan as he presses his finger in deeper.

“I thought so,” Mingi murmurs, “we need to take our time,”

“I can do it,” You insist, the idea that you might not get what you want after he teases you like this is actually torturous.

“Of course you can,” Yunho cups your cheek, “you’re our omega,”

Your cunt flutters and clenches around his cock.

Mingi withdraws his finger and this time when he presses back in, it’s with two.

Yunho strokes your skin softly, lazily drawing a line from your chest to belly and back up, “Our mate,” he adds, “you were made to take us,”

Your hips cant forwards, pushing down on Yunho’s pelvic bone for any amount of pressure and stimulation on your aching bud.

He groans, “God,”

Mingi pumps his fingers slowly.

Yunho refocuses your eyes on his, “We know you can take us both,” he offers, “but I think what Mingi is saying is that if you’ve never done anything like that, especially regularly, we need to go slow and prep you.”

“Oh,” You relax a little.

“Mhm,” Mingi dips his head and you turn to meet his mouth in a kiss, “just let us make you feel good first,”

“Okay,” You breathe against his lips.

“Yunho,” Mingi murmurs, not drawing his face away from yours.

“Yes,” Yunho hums, and he slides his hand lower.

“Come here,” Mingi sweeps his free hand up and down your arm, and you twist to wrap them around his shoulders, “good girl,”

Your hips roll at his praise.

He finds your lips again, but this time it feels like everything is in slow motion. He worships your mouth with hot, lazy kisses, his tongue against yours and his nose nuzzling into you. The kind of kissing people don’t have time for unless they’re exploratory teenagers or intentional tantric lovers. He gets you used to the slowness, all the while his fingers a still, solid weight inside you.

Yunho’s hands match the pace perfectly, his ability to read the scene and you both uncanny, and all he does is tease. His hands squeeze, slow and firm across your sweat slick skin. Thighs, hips, waist, a tantalizing squeeze to your soft belly. He finally reaches your mound but doesn’t do anything, just rests his hot hand at the top of your cunt and waits.

You’re panting against Mingi’s mouth, lost in the hazy array of their bodies and yours, no concept of what time it is or how many times you’ve really come so far, it’s just you and your alphas and this bed. You push up a little higher on your knees as the kisses get headier, and you hear Yunho hum beneath you, his cock physically twitching and throbbing in your hot channel.

With the slight position adjustment, both of your boys take the opportunity to change the playing field. In tandem they move, Yunho slides two fingers under you, one on either side of your clit and where his cock spears you open, and he just presses ever so slightly to increase the pressure. Mingi slowly pumps his fingers again, this time pushing into your ass noticeably deeper and separating his fingers on each thrust a little wider to start to scissor you open.

You’re trembling, that much is obvious from the way your thighs quiver, and you whine against the cushion of Mingi’s lips, the sound swallowed by his own hungry groan.

You feel Mingi’s free hand slide away from your upper back and he taps Yunho’s chest twice.

“Mhm,” He acknowledges softly.

You break the kiss, your forehead on Mingi’s, “Baby,”

Your words are swallowed up though, he dives in again for another kiss but this time they move their hands with purpose. Mingi pumps harder, a third finger squeezing inside and Yunho’s fingers slide up and press down perfectly over your slick clit. He rolls his fingers at a steady, even pace and pressure as Mingi opens you up further to him.

Hot pleasure spikes up your body and you moan hard, gripping down on Mingi’s shoulders.

“There you go,” Yunho says, his voice tight and low, “good girl, fuck yourself on my cock,”

You didn’t even know you were doing it, your mind so hazy with sensation but he’s right, your body started moving on its own, sinking up and down just enough on Yunho’s thick length that you could imagine both of them taking you properly.

“Oh, fuck,” Yunho curses, “look at you slicking all over me,”

You whine.

“So horny from Mingi playing with your pretty ass?” His voice husky.

“Oh!” You squeak as hot sensation spikes up your body, and you slip away from Mingi’s mouth to bury your face into his shoulder.

“Oh, yes,” Mingi groans holding you close with one hand while he fucks into you with the other, “so fucking tight, baby,”

“Fuck,” You cry.

“You really think you can take my cock?” He teases, scissoring his fingers again

You nod, whining, words completely inaccessible.

“She’s our girl,” Yunho praises, “aren’t you, baby?”

You choke out a moan.

“Say it,” Mingi prompts.

“I,” You shudder, jutting down with your hips to force more of Yunho inside you, “yes, I’m your girl,”

Mingi’s hot voice at your ear is your undoing, “Is our girl close?”

Your nails dig into Yunho’s chest.

“Is our girl going to come?” He nips at your ear and you see stars.

Your body jerks against Yunho, the slick drag of your clit against his fingers where they still press, trapped between your body and his, and Mingi grunts in your ear as he pushes his hand harder and faster. You tear into your orgasm with a scream, a cord snapping in your belly and leaving your body shaking from head to toe, and Yunho shifts you up and lets his cock spring free so he can stimulate you through the end, wetness coating your thighs from where you released again.

You whine when it starts to feel like overstimulation, and Yunho stops, his warm hand coming to cup your cunt as Mingi’s fingers slide out of your channel.

“Shh,” Mingi pets your back, “oh, baby, you’re okay, we got you.”

You’re a babbling mess, not even really conscious of what you’re saying until the arcs of pleasure fade and you’re left boneless and held between them.

Yunho hums appreciatively, “Incredible,”

“Uh-huh,” You agree weakly.

Mingi strokes you more, kissing your head, “You’re still shaking,” he squeezes you like he can’t get enough.

Blinking hard, the stars start to clear and you lift your head a little, “Did we make a mess?”

Yunho laughs, “Fuck yes we did,”

You ease yourself off of Mingi’s shoulders and he helps settle you to a seat straddling Yunho again, “Fuck, the sheets,”

“Are made for heats,” Yunho dismisses, “they’ll be fine, it’s not the last time we’ll be making you squirt,”

“Tonight,” Mingi chuckles, “if we’re lucky,”

“Fuck,” You shiver and laugh, brushing your hair back and shaking your head.

“What?” Mingi pokes you.

“I just didn’t expect you two to be so…” You can’t put your finger on it.

“So?” Yunho’s brows furrow.

You’ve had plenty of sex, some of it you would have considered very good sex, but this? It’s another level of pleasure and need that you didn’t know existed. It could be your scent match, it could just be them and how compatible you are together, but there’s no question that it’s distinctly different and distinctly better.

You search for the right words but land on, “Feral?” You smile, “Maybe?”

“There’s no use in being anything else when it’s us,” Mingi says matter of factly.

An ache settles inside you. Any shame you had about sex at all dissipates in your mind and you smile, “You’re right,” you move forward on Yunho’s thighs, “now will you please both fuck me?”

You sink back down on Yunho’s cock in one fluid motion and he moans, his hips jerking up into the cradle of your hips.

“Hi, baby,” You grind down to take every little inch.

“Hi,” He’s breathless, an almost dopey pleasured grin on his face.

“Mm,” You sigh, enjoying the deep warmth of his cock inside you, “you feel so fucking good,”

“Yeah?”

You nod, “I want you inside me all the time,”

“That can be arranged,” He chuckles, reaching up to draw you down closer to his chest, locking his lips on yours.

You hum warmly against him, rolling your hips softly, “You can have me anytime,”

His hands tighten on your arms, “Careful, baby,”

“You’d like that?” You tease him, nipping at his lip, “Sliding inside me whenever you want,”

He groans and uses his firm hands to stop any amount of movement, “If you want Mingi to be included in this at all, you need to stop with that mouth,”

“Fine, fine,” You concede and you settle down, you’ll just torture him another time since it seems like teasing him is a sure fire way to get him to lose his mind.

Mingi’s hand strokes your back and you glance over to him as he locates the bottle of lube and starts shuffling towards you both again on his knees.

“Ready?” He asks.

“I’ve been ready,” You didn’t mean to sound so needy, but you are and it’s obvious.

“Mhm,” Mingi murmurs, and then he’s sliding behind you.

He straddles Yunho’s legs, fully situated with his hips right behind yours, and you listen as the bottle opens and then closes, the wet sound of his hand slicking up his cock with lube.

“Tell me if you need to slow down,” Yunho murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips, “I’m not moving until he’s in, okay?”

Nerves bubble through you suddenly, “Okay,”

The sound of him shifting on the sheets behind you spikes anxiety up your spine.

A heavy hand settles on one hip and your stomach tightens. Another passes up and down your spine and your breath feels suddenly tight and thready. His hand anchors on your shoulder for a moment, the tips of his fingers startlingly close to your pulsepoint and your heart starts to flutter faster.

You know it’s Mingi, of course it is. Yunho’s here in front of you, and that means it couldn’t be anyone but Mingi behind you, but something about your already heightened nerves at the new experience and the inability to see him has you scared.

Yunho’s studying your face, a second away from realizing where you are, but you pump the brakes first.

“Wait, stop,” You manage.

The hands on your body lift off.

You’re breathing a little faster than you should, your heart hammering in your chest.

“Hard stop?” Yunho asks quietly.

You shake your head and swallow back some of the sudden fear, “Mingi?”

“I’m here,” He assures.

You sigh, relief flooding through you and you let your head drop down onto Yunho’s chest.

“It’s me,” He soothes you, realizing immediately where your mind had gone, “it’s me and it’s Yunho, okay?”

“Yeah,” You exhale and nod, “I know, I just… for a second,”

It’s quiet for a moment, but then Mingi says, “Babe?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I touch you, or should we stop?” He’s so careful, so tender. Distantly you remember the moment in the locker room all those months ago, the way he had carefully protected you when he found you in heat, vulnerable and alone. The two men around you have done nothing but protect you, care for you, and seek not just consent but need from you before anything and everything you’ve done together and that realization makes your body soften.

“Yeah,” You reply, “you can, I’m okay,”

You expect his hands back on your hips, but instead you feel a hand on top of yours where you cling to Yunho, and then another on your opposite, Mingi’s fingers threading together with yours.

You blink your eyes open and stare at your combined hands. You know him, you know these hands. You study his rings, the silver ones he always wears, and the little scar on the side of his thumb.

“It’s me,” He gently strokes your finger with his thumb.

“Hi,” You breathe.

“Can you sit up for me?” He asks and you nod.

Both of them draw you up to a sitting position, still angled forwards a little over Yunho but this time where you brace Yunho’s chest, Mingi’s hands cover yours, fingers still intertwined.

“Look at Yunho,” Mingi shifts closer to your back, kissing your shoulder, “and I’m right here.” He punctuates his words with a squeeze to your hands.

“We’ve got you,” Yunho murmurs, “we’re here,”

“I’m ready,” You echo the sentiment from before, but this time you actually are.

Mingi drops his lips to your shoulder again and kisses you, “Just relax, breathe into it,”

The slippery head of his cock nudges your entrance.

Yunho reaches around your bodies and assists, helping to guide Mingi’s cockhead inside you while his hands are busy.

It’s nothing startling at first, just a bit of pressure and not unlike his fingers from before, but when the head of him catches inside, and Yunho drops back, then you start to feel it.

Pressure blooms into a stretch, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before, and you gasp.

“How do I feel, babe?” Mingi’s got to be holding himself steady with so much control.

“Good,” You manage, “it’s so…”

He pushes his hips forward a little more, opening you up as his cock starts to thicken.

“Fuck,” You squeeze his hands.

“Good?” He checks again.

You nod, but Yunho smiles below you, “You should see her face,” he murmurs.

“I knew it,” Mingi pushes in more, “I knew you could take us,”

You moan sharply, the heat of them both an insane combination that pushes any thought out except for the sensation between your legs.

“God,” Yunho finally groans beneath you, “are you in?”

“A-almost,” Mingi sighs hot against your skin, “j-just a little more,”

A little more? You can’t even imagine, but he thrusts a little more sharply this time to seat himself fully and you grip down on his hands. It burns a little, but fades just as fast as it comes, and now all you can feel is the tremendous fullness of the weight of them together inside you.

“This is,” You blink looking down and seeing Yunho’s pelvis pressed against yours, Mingi’s thighs caging you in from behind, “I d-don’t even know,”

Mingi shifts forwards a little, mostly to adjust his position but it pushes him the smallest amount deeper and you moan sharply. Yunho hisses beneath you, his hips pulsing just once and you feel the way his hands grip down hard on your plush thighs.

“Can you feel him?” You manage.

“Yeah,” Yunho pants, “it’s… this is insane,”

“I’m,” Mingi sighs against your back, “I need a second,”

“Too good?” Yunho smiles.

“Just…” Mingi grips your hands, “nobody move, I’ll come way too fast,”

Filled to the brim like this you’re desperate to move though, it’s all you want to do. You all stay as steady as you can, just the sound of each other’s heavy breaths as you all get your bearings, but in the end you start to move first.

With the smallest shift, you rock your hips once, grinding them further into you and against each other through the thin wall inside you, and you moan.

Mingi jerks.

“Please,” You murmur into the hushed room.

Yunho looks up to Mingi behind you and nods, “Slow,”

They move in sync, a slow drag out and push back in and after two strokes you think you’ll be addicted to them fucking you like this.

“Y-yes,” You roll back with your hips, fucking back into them, “more,”

Mingi drops his lips to your back and uses the position adjustment to snap his hips harder, “You need more?”

A spark of hot pleasure echoes through you and you whine, “Anything, do anything you want, just fuck me,”

“Good girl,” Yunho hums beneath you, and you feel him adjust his legs and brace his hands on the bed.

Your soul quite possibly leaves your body the second they start fucking you in earnest. All you can do is hold onto them now, both of their cocks stretching you open with every quick pulse of their hips. None of you are going to last long at this rate but you really don’t care.

“Oh, god,” You collapse lower onto Yunho’s chest, still gripping Mingi’s hands to ground yourself.

“You’re so fucking tight, omega,” Yunho groans, gritting his teeth.

“And warm,” Mingi nearly growls.

“Wet,” Yunho moans.

Your mind is dizzy and hazy and full of pleasured pops.

Yunho’s hand cups your cheek, drawing your unfocused eyes down to his. He’s checking you, you can see that, but the moment you smile he nods like he’s praising you, “How do we feel, jagi?”

“So good,” You whine, grinding down and back and pushing into the sensation, “I’m so fucking full,”

Mingi chokes out a moan behind you.

“That’s our girl,” Yunho nods again and thrusts a little harder.

A shudder of hot warmth echoes up through your body and you know you’re blushing hard for them, slick with sweat and need.

“Say it,” Mingi groans, “say you’re ours,”

“I’m all fucking yours,” The words come out in a rush, “I’m your omega,”

His hips stutter and you’re all starting to lose your grip. He pushes a little too hard, and you both collapse forwards. You’re a tangle of limbs now, your face pressed up against Yunho’s throat, Mingi pressed into every inch of your back. Two of your hands are still clasped together and bracing the bed above, but the other two have separated and you hold tight to Yunho with your free hand while Mingi holds your hip with his.

They both haven’t stopped despite the position change, both of them needy and close themselves, rutting into you again and again.

“Fuck,” You curse, a roll of pleasure up your body, “alpha, please,”

“Come,” Yunho chokes, “come on our cocks, baby,”

It slams into you, his words as good as a command when you fall apart into shaking moans, pleasure washing through you.

“That’s,” Yunho starts to say, but at the sensation of your walls clenching down around him he loses all control and thrusts up hard, his knot locking firmly in place as he pumps rope after rope of hot cum inside you. He’s shuddering too, an overstimulated hiss as Mingi keeps fucking into you.

“So tight,” Mingi breathes hot against your spine, “my perfect girl,”

“Oh, Mingi,” You grip his hand, pressing your eyes closed as your body is worked over, “baby, please,”

He sucks in a sharp breath, pulling free from your body with a whine, and you hear him stroke desperately fast until he knots in his hand and spills his release across your skin, painting your backside until it drips down your cunt to where you’re still locked together with Yunho.

You feel euphoric, an almost drug induced haze of bliss, and you nuzzle into Yunho’s throat to press little kisses along his gland, your tongue darting out to taste his scent.

He shivers under you, “Feeling good, baby?”

“Mhm,” Rich, wet earth, the crackling of air before a storm. You worm your way closer to him, breathing him in.

Mingi’s hand untangles from yours and he shifts himself back from the both of you to grab a towel and come back to bed.

“Shh,” Yunho murmurs, his knot softening so he can pull himself free, “it’s okay,”

You didn’t even notice you had whined to keep him inside, and you’re not in heat, but something about the experience felt transcendental and you’re not even bonded yet.

Mingi drops a towel over the bed and they both ease you over so you can lay on your back, but you pull Mingi down, needing to settle yourself more, “Alpha,”

“Hey,” He starts but you yank him down and snuggle into his neck too, soaking in the rich cocoa of his scent, “whoa, hey,” he laughs.

You lap a stripe up his throat and he sighs, his body softening delightfully under your touch.

“What’s this?” He murmurs, stroking your skin.

“Need you,” You explain, and that’ll have to be enough.

You move then on instinct, your omega close to the surface now as you seek out what you truly need. With a hand laced in Mingi’s hair you direct him, pushing his head down while you stretch your neck long, and setting his mouth directly over your gland.

You’re not afraid.

He hesitates, breathing you in for a moment, and then you murmur a please.

Mingi’s tongue traces your neck as he drinks in your scent, his kisses slow and reverent over your mating gland.

You reach up and find Yunho, not feeling complete until you have them both.

“You need me too?” Yunho settles at your side.

“Please,”

Mingi makes space until you’re flat on the bed with your head back, neck bared to them both. They scent you slowly, deliberately and with delicious care. They kiss your neck and suck softly at your pulse points, they drink you in until your head starts to clear. They scent you until there could be no question who you belonged to and whose bed you come back to every night.

You tumble into sleep just the same, your alphas on either side of you, bodies wrapped up so closely together you don’t know whose skin is whose, their lips softly at your throat, whispering their love like a prayer .

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 04. FELLED BY YOU

a/n: i've served three chapters of angst and teasing and almosts that never came to fruition. but today is the day! today logan howlett gets fucked. i mean...does the fucking. you know what i mean. there's gonna be some hints of pain, but really he's starting to focus more on getting it right this time around. so be prepared for the filth to come.

summary: the importance of you slammed into him during your two weeks spent apart. yet when he's forced to confront the truth, he finds himself stuck between having you or hurting you.

word count: 9.7k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, wade continues to be the worlds worst wingman, yearning, angst, fluff, flirting heavily, nasty sex, p in v sex, logan gets flashed in a good way, oral (f receiving), reverence and romance, logan is an idiot until he's not, exhibitionsim (kinda if you squint really hard), pain play cause he's a whore, he lifts you cause he's strong like that.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

Time didn't exist in a linear line for him. Never a single point that drew his life from one spot to another. His constant loss of memories and different universes left him numb to the concept as a whole. He found it better to ignore the thought—move past the tragedies that came next quicker than what already happened.

What was time to an immortal man who'd lived through too much already?

What did he have left to lose?

He never found himself counting the minutes, hours, and days before you. To him, they were a jumble of things that only shifted to become one solid fact. A year he'd never get back. Moments he might one day lose. Faces he would one day come to outlive—to see grow old and pass. People he'd never meet again.

He didn't bother with it.

Until he spent a night wrapped around you and fell asleep with no nightmares. He woke up long before you ever would—dawn barely cracking across the night's darkened armor. The clock on your nightstand read five a.m., but his body shouted something different. He wasn't fatigued like every other morning coupled with endless nights of no sleep, dreading the next time he had no choice but to close his eyes.

Logan almost wished he crawled back into the bed in order to watch you be roused from sleep with the beep of your alarm. He should have. At least then he'd be counted as a smart man for not sneaking out and heading home. Even thinking of what came to your mind when you woke up sent pain down his chest.

"Punch buggy!" A gloved fist slammed into his shoulder with enough weight behind it to cause the car to jerk left.

"Fuck!" he growled, slamming his foot on the brake and whipping around to embed his claws in Wade's leg. "Sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up!"

"Rules of the highway Log–"

Red splattered against his makeshift yellow suit as he dug his other set of claws into Wade's chest with a roar. In his peripheral vision he caught sight of a small red car whizzing by. The driver laying on the horn with an anger Logan felt at the base of his stomach. Wade pointed to it with a smile in a meager attempt to lighten the mood.

He wouldn't say he was on edge. That would be a pathetic attempt at lying.

He passed edge one week and six days ago. Twenty-four hours after leaving your apartment Logan met the edge of his anger, and flew right off without bothering to keep himself in check. Two weeks without your presence. The sound of your voice, the warmth of your scent. Two weeks of a fucking mission Wade convinced him to go on; with the claim that they'd be back before Friday.

Which wound up extending to yet another five days of being stuck in the back fucking woods of Virginia—stuffed into an already small truck. The rhythmic clunk of the shovels in the bed slamming against the side already had him gritting his teeth. An hour of driving with Wade's game of spotting cars caused him to almost crack his molars.

Logan wasn't a patient man.

He swung first and asked questions later. That was his way of living. Two weeks of counting the seconds as they passed by like molasses only seemed to reaffirm that fact. He knew irony lingered in the truth; an immortal man who held less than an ounce of patience in his body.

There had to be a joke in there somewhere that Wade would no doubt yank out before the end of this trip.

Retracting his claws, he settled back in his seat to glare at the deserted long road ahead of them that seemed to lead nowhere. The car became a prison he couldn't escape an hour ago. And the appeal of trying to kill the man beside him only grew the longer he sat there. Logan already felt like a piece of shit for leaving with no explanation. He didn't need Wade's blood to make it worse.

With a huff he slammed open the car door and got out. The air was hot, stale, and left him choking in the leather suit that already clung to his skin. He tugged at the collar, sucking in air to get his heart to stop racing.

It proved to be difficult when your face distraught with tears began to morph, take shape into the you he couldn't save.

"Something tells me this has nothing to do with not getting to visit pound town before we left." When he was met with a wall of silence, Wade's head fell back with a groan. "Please hold while we deal with another existential crisis guys. He'll get there eventually."

Logan's fingers curled into fists. Wade—relentless as he was—refused to be pushed away this time. He leaned against the car, twirling his baby knife as Logan tried to hold back every ounce of fucking anger that needed an outlet. None of it was pointed at the Merc with a Mouth. Not even the nonsensical comments could penetrate Logan's otherwise silent exterior.

No, Logan knew exactly where the anger was directed. He knew that all of this rage stemmed from his own self loathing. For doing to you what he knew would hurt the most. For doing...exactly what the other you did.

Leaving wouldn't give him the opportunity to run from his pain. Fuck he figured that out a long time ago, but that never stopped him from trying.

He was an old dog with one singular trick. Hurting the ones he loved.

"Just call sweet angel up, say that you're with your old pal Wade, and explain in extreme detail how you'd love to bend her over every surface in that apartment you stare longingly at like you're waiting for her to return from war."

Telling him to shut the fuck up would only incur more bullshit to leave his mouth. Logan chose the easier route and stared into space; focused on the way his heart began to slow the more he thought about that night. How you slept against him without fear. Your hands pressed to his chest, face tucked into his shoulder. Somehow in the span of a few hours you were able to make him feel normal again.

"How much longer do I have to deal with your fuckin' bullshit?"

"One day give or take who drives."

"You're not driving."

Wade shrugged. "Your mistake." With a swift turn, he leapt into the bed of the truck and grabbed the two shovels. "Now give me a smile with those Tony award winning teeth of yours cause we've got work to do."

The endless nothingness of fields and flat ground would eventually drive him insane. One more day didn't sound awful if he knew that you were waiting for him at the end of all this. But that remained the problem he couldn't solve—the nightmare that followed him in his waking world. What if you weren't there? What if that was his final chance and you made the choice for him?

He sighed, squinting his eyes against the sun. "Alright. Give me the damn shovel."

The constant tapping of your boss's pen was going to drive you insane. Although if someone were to ask you, this wasn't the first time in the past two weeks that you were holding onto your temper by the skin of your teeth. In fact, you couldn't recall a time where your body and mind had been this on edge. As if you were a rubber band pulled tight, ready to snap at a moment's notice.

"Three days off?" Her voice remained monotone—grating against your already racing mind.

"Yes," you replied.

The request would go through without issue; you'd been here before, asking the same routine questions. Only this time you felt the unease from that morning begin to work its way through your body. Doubt lay heavy on your heart the more you ran each minute in your mind. Combing over where you might have gone wrong—what would have made him want to leave.

Waking up without Logan wasn't what set you on a path to self-destruction. At first, you were logical enough to assume that he was a busy man; being a superhero and all. He must have a good reason as to why he slipped out of your bed before the sun could fully rise, leaving behind nothing but flowers that now sat dead in a vase, and a brand new door.

Two weeks without a single word—without an explanation or a reason—began to grate on your mind. Pulling at each worry with an intensity that left you winded. Until you were forced to confront the idea that this whole thing...what you and Logan intended to start...wasn't what he had in mind to begin with.

"I'll grant you the days." The slow build of relief flooded your nerves that were already shot to shit. "Just next time you decide to sneak a guest in, please make sure he signs for a visitor's pass."

A familiar wave of discomfort spilled in your chest. Getting caught wasn't on your schedule of things to happen when it came to your job. Then again, having Logan in your life wasn't a part of your plan either. Yet somehow that happened as naturally as taking a deep breath of fresh air.

He didn't step into your life with a stoic aura of peace.

Logan crashed into it head first without a choice.

You remained a gravitational pull, an orbit he couldn't escape from, and without warning he'd been pulled to you. Where he'd exist until it was time for him to be set free.

What remained of your fear—the one thing that kept you from falling wholeheartedly—was that one day Logan might come to the decision all on his own. Without bothering to tell you, or let you in on the secret. That after all that happened...he might want to be set free. If he didn't already.

The walk back to your apartment dragged longer than it should. Your steps were slower, mind entirely distracted from the task at hand, and body aching from lack of sleep. Two weeks without Logan left you questioning why you bothered to pursue him at all. Why had you given him so much freedom to roam in and out of your life? Especially when you'd never done that with any other person before.

You knew the answer.

Logan offered you a chance to live in a way you never thought of before. Fear of the unknown kept you complacent; stuck in your ways. In such a short time he managed to slowly peel away what still remained. The anxiety that lingered in your heart at the thought of being loved—of falling in love.

He shattered your walls without even trying.

Accepting that is what left you struggling to breathe after drowning in what he gave. You were supposed to be the one to lead him out of the dark waters, back to a shore of safety, yet somehow he pulled you right in with him.

That is what kept you right on the edge of whatever this could possibly become.

You wanted to ask him why he left. Dig into his thoughts and pull free your answers. He might give you a fight—knowing what Wade told you about him having a tough exterior—but this wasn't nothing to you. All you wanted was to know that he held the same belief. That this meant something.

Calling his phone never worked—going directly to a voicemail box he never set up. Texting him wasn't an option, and you couldn't exactly write him a handwritten letter to send off without an address of where to go. Which left you here. Stuck in the radio silence and waiting for a response to crack through all the static.

Digging for your keys at the bottom of your work bag nearly caused you to miss the woman standing by your door. Her hair was tied into a messy updo, showcasing the familiar white streaks you'd seen before. Something akin to joy flushed through your body as Vanessa pushed away from the wall—two coffees held in her hands and a paper bag that smelled eerily like bagels tucked into her arm.

"I wonder when I'd see you again," you said, catching her smile as you slid the key into your new lock with ease.

"Blame Wade. He's been keeping me hostage for weeks."

You snorted, tossing your bag and coat on the table. The flowers—now dried and falling to pieces—still remained the centerpiece of your apartment. Petals were scattered along the wood, some now on the floor. But you couldn't find it in yourself to throw them out. You still held out hope that they might bring him back to you, even if he didn't want to return.

"I don't need to know the gory details," you sighed, accepting the tepid coffee and cold bagel. "How long did you wait?"

"Thirty minutes." She fell to your couch with a groan, kicking off her heeled boots. "I figured you were well into the first stage of wallowing and might need someone to drag you out of it."

"I'm not–"

Her eyes fell to the bouquet, lips pursed as if fighting a smile. "And those are from who again?"

"Just because I kept them doesn't mean I'm wallowing." You collapsed beside her, exhaustion withering your body quicker than the sun did with those flowers. "I just haven't cleaned yet."

"Right."

Vanessa had been your friend since Wade moved in across the street and accidentally almost killed you in the middle of the street. She wound up apologizing for him with two bottles of wine and hours of conversation. Even in the midst of their breakup, she still solidified herself in your life with nights of movies and days out in the city. You never thought you'd get a friend out of living here, but somehow life without Ness in it felt bleak.

Which gave her the ability to read you like an open book. She'd seen what you looked like after a breakup—she’d endured countless talking stages with you—and was able to pick out the signs of what your pain looked like.

"He's coming back, you know."

Your heart fluttered at the mere mention of his existence; you silently cursed yourself for it. "Did Wade tell you that?"

She nodded, taking a sip of the shitty cold coffee with a grimace. "I love the man, but he has the worst timing."

"Timing?" You sat up, alert for the first time since waking up alone. "What are you talking about?"

"I figured you didn't know," she sighed. "Logan didn't leave because he wanted to. Trust me I'm pretty sure if given the choice he'd lock both of you in here until we had to call the police." She didn't give you room to interject—even as you started to speak. "He's an X-Man babe. And well Wade—dipshit that he is—decided to drag him on a mission at the worst fucking second."

The words hung in the air for longer than either of you wanted, but your mind was racing a mile a minute. Mission. A fucking mission. How could you have been so quick to jump to conclusions?

You knew who Logan was the second you met. Understood the importance he held. Yet you never pieced together that two weeks of no contact might have meant something entirely different than a breakup.

"He's..."

"On a mission," she replied—lazily biting into her bagel.

"With Wade?"

She spoke around a mouthful of cream cheese. "If he could die, he'd be a goner."

Already the picture was starting to form. Logan stuck for two weeks with a shitty phone that didn't work, constantly bugged by a man who had a mouth that shit talked faster than he could think. He left to try and be the man he wanted people to see him as. The man that still held a legacy in this universe.

You simply forgot to contend with the fact that you weren't just opening your life up to James Howlett...you were making space for the Wolverine too.

"A year's worth of panic just crossed your face. Wanna talk about it?"

What was there left to say? That you'd been an idiot for believing Logan would leave you high and dry? For letting your doubts get the better of you yet again? Or should you explain that for two weeks you felt an emptiness that scared the absolute shit out of you? As if he ripped a hole in your chest with his claws and had no intention of patching it back up.

"Wade told you this himself?"

She stood, heading straight for the vintage cabinet in your living room that held whatever liquor you kept in stock. "More or less. It was hard to hear him over all the screaming in the background."

Somehow her words didn't phase you—even as she continued to speak about the possibility of what they were up to. You caught the words shovel and stole a truck but nothing beyond that. You took the glass of wine without question—mind focused entirely on the man who managed to turn your word on its head in such a short time.

"When do they get back?"

Her lips curved into a smile that told you one thing: I got you right where I want you.

It took no time at all for you to be thinking of the next time you saw him and hiding it from her felt like trying to build a wall with space on the sides. Enough room for her to sneak into your mind and tug out the truth.

"Tomorrow." She took a sip, settled back down beside you, and reached for the remote. "Wade's throwing a party. Your attendance is mandatory."

A second barely passed before your response was spilling free. Excitement now replacing the doubt that willed itself to stay.

"I'll be there."

"Who had money on the great honey badger expedition?" Wade called out to the rather full living room.

You sat curled on the couch beside Vanessa—a red solo cup filled with shitty beer perched on your knee, condensation spilling across your hand. Dopinder was halfway into a story about his first solo job, Colossus was crammed into a small seat, and Logan sat at the table—his eyes a searing burn against the side of your face.

"Shit," Vaness sighed, digging into her front pocket—a twenty slapped into Wade's hand with a kiss.

You gasped. "Traitor."

"I really thought we were gonna win."

"Who did you bet against?" Your eyes caught sight of the cash getting slipped in Althea's hand—her smile cocky enough to give Wade a run for his money. "Of course."

"If it makes you feel better, Wade is done trying to play matchmaker between you two."

You wondered if you said the word bullshit loud enough it would penetrate through Wade's wall of not listening. The temptation was there. Though you decided to remain silent...for Logan's sake.

Since they returned, he barely said more than a few words to you. Them being hello and I tried to call. You both knew the second part was purely fictional, but figured it was easier to remain silent about it. Arguing wasn't something you were keen on doing—given that he had more than enough time to offer an explanation.

Yet he chose to put distance between the two of you. Sitting in sullen silence, a glass of whiskey nursed slowly and eyes latched onto the way you laughed.

He wanted to speak to you. Tell you how often he thought of you—how many times he made a note of something interesting or funny to regale you with once he returned. But the knowledge that you might very well hate him for leaving silently and without a promise of return, put everything to the back of his mind.

Reconciling with you was the first thing he planned to do.

Yet like he did in his own universe, he chose to keep you at arms length. Away from the insanity of his volatile emotions and dangerous demeanor. You were too good; too breakable.

"Fox and friends!" Wade's voice dragged his attention away from you. Even mere feet away Logan felt you right down to his fucking bones. "I have a special surprise for you heathens. Yeah that's right I'm looking at you Sugar Bear."

A hand gripped Logan's shirt, dragging him up from the chair as he struggled not to slam his fist into Wade's throat. "We're gonna play a little game I like to call Forty Five Minutes In The Closet. I'll pick two people and they'll have to hide the two hundred and seventh bone in the human body."

"It's called seven minutes in heaven. Dumbass," Al muttered.

"No. No, that's something else."

Logan felt the hair rise on the back of his neck at the sight of your smile. How you lit up at Wade's humor. You wore a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, yet he couldn't place a time where you looked more beautiful. If it weren't for the grip Wade had on his shoulder, he'd be asking you to meet him in the hallway—an apology already set on the tip of his tongue.

"Anyways!" Wade shook him violently—knowing that if Logan met his irritation with violence he'd have another problem to worry about. "I nominate this broad shouldered—thick muscled—thunder cunt from down under cunt to be our first contestant."

His eyes flicked to the side, lips curving into a smirk that could only be categorized as diabolical. "Drink some water girls cause things are about to get good."

Vanessa smiled, yanking your arm into the air without warning. "I nominate her to go with him."

"That's right you do baby!" Wade shouted.

"No," Logan growled, yanking his arm away from Wade.

Only to catch how your face fell. You tried to mask it with a laugh, but he could see the damage was done. All the doubts that you fought against began to slowly rise to the surface; each moment spent with him now a time you wanted to get back. But like a trooper, you stood with a glare in Vanessa's direction, and walked towards the hall closet barely big enough for two coats and a broom.

"Go go," Wade shoved him (violently) in your direction, and held the door for Logan to squeeze in beside you. "Now some ground rules. The walls are paper thin so if you end up dancing the Devil's Tango, we'll be making popcorn to go along with the show. Oh and any procreations that come out of this automatically get named Wade."

"You're disgusting," Logan snarled.

"Wade I don't think–"

You heard a loud have fun from everyone outside before the door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed the both of you whole. Yet you felt how close he stood even with your eyes still trained on the door. Heat radiated off his body in waves, soaking into yours with ease. His breath came in quick but released slowly as if he was trying his best to keep his temper steady.

At this point blaming him for losing it wasn't an option. Not when you never expected the night to wind up like this.

You sucked in a deep breath, hands shaking when your heart began to race. You tried to appease every improper thought that entered your mind, but failed spectacularly as they kept on coming. Another sharp inhale echoed mere inches away—his body tensing as your scent deepened. Calling to him like a siren song he needed to answer.

"Stop that," he ground out, fingers curling into fists to keep himself apart from you.

Your eyes met his searing gaze even in the pitch black. "I'm not doing anything."

"You're not. But your body is." He huffed, feeling his willpower begin to splinter when your heart jumped. "How long do we have to...ya know..."

It took you a minute to realize that Logan was suddenly bashful. The urge to reach for a flashlight to see the red that most likely tinted the top of his ears reared its head. You would have done it if it weren't for the way his entire body flinched. His back now pushed against the wall furthest from you.

"Seven minutes," you murmured. "Are you okay?"

"'M fine."

You'd never seen him this on edge before. So close to snapping.

Perhaps it was the way he reacted whilst in your vicinity, or the fact that this was the most he'd said to you in twenty four hours. But the doubt you harbored for two weeks slowly began to shift into a wave of anger. One that demanded at least one final answer as to what you were doing here. What this meant to him.

You wouldn't continue pining after a man who couldn't give it to you straight; not after you gave him so much.

"At least now I can ask you what's going on."

He stiffened, his head snapping up to see your face begin to shift—your tone sharper than before. "What?"

"You heard me Howlett." His lips twitched at the sound of his last name. You fought the urge to land a punch to his jaw he'd barely. "Two weeks of no contact. You gave me nothing. And I was fine with it because I knew you were with Wade, but this? Avoiding me so you don't have to give me a reason as to why?"

"Honey–"

Your eyes narrowed, shutting him up quicker than he expected. "I'm not done talking." Another deep breath set off the last of your rant. "If you don't want to continue whatever this is then that's fine. I've moved on from guys like you before. I can do it again. But now you don't even want to be near me. I don't know what I did to make you–"

The step he took came unexpectedly. As did the next and the next until you were pinned to the wall behind you—his hands on either side of your head. Whatever fight you had left in your system fizzled out when his head dipped and lips slid down the side of your neck. Kissing gently at the vein he longed to sink his teeth into.

"Logan," you gasped, tilting your entire body his way. The reaction was involuntary. As if he possessed you in ways you never expected.

The smile he pressed to your cheek told you he liked it.

"That's what you think huh bub? That I don't wanna be near you?"

"Y-Yes..."

He chuckled. "I just spent two fuckin' weeks in a car with that walking mouth. You think I went of my own free will?" The breath that ghosted along your cheek caused your whole body to shiver. "'M stayin' away honey cause if I get too close I'm gonna do things to you that you aren't ready for."

A fire began to unfurl in the base of your stomach, rapidly coursing through your body without a single warning. He let it happen. He held you there, lips so close you could taste his whiskey on the tip of your tongue, and waited for you to speak. Waited for you to make your final choice about him.

"And if I am?" Your fingers curled into his shirt, chin lifting in a show of defiance. "Ready?"

He groaned at the sight of your fire coming back, his forehead falling to press against yours. "Don't say shit you don't mean."

"I do mean it."

Logan felt his entire body crumple as the familiar sound of his claws echoed in the small space—dust from the now split wall dropping onto your clothes. He could hear Wade's shout of disdain through the already thin walls. But his sole focus was on the way your breath quickened, how your fingers dug beneath his flannel and onto his thin beater.

"What do you want from me honey? Say it. I'll fuckin’ do anything."

The echo of your breathy whine fucked him up for good; ruined any chance of sanity for the rest of the night. If the closet wasn't so damn small he'd grind you along his thigh to watch your mouth go slack. He'd drop to his knees to taste you and drag you over the edge again and again without any intention of stopping.

"I want an apology," you replied, shaking him loose from the haze of lust he found himself stuck in.

His lips curled into a smile. "That right?"

You nodded, fighting against everything in you that screamed to keep this going. To let him kiss you senseless and fuck you against the wall. You didn't care that you were still in Wade's apartment, you didn't care that you were probably down to four minutes and a handful of seconds.

This felt pivotal to the shaky ground you both balanced on. And you were desperate to see what became of the mess that would no doubt come crashing down around you.

"You left." The words were a high gasp as his hand splayed against your stomach. "I-I missed you."

A rumble echoed from the bottom of his chest. "Yeah bub? Ya missed me?"

The words were on the back of your tongue, an explanation on just how much you ached for him. How nights without hearing his voice left you battling demons you usually kept at bay. But his hand was rucking up the bottom of your shirt and the heat of his calloused palm was against bare skin. Dipping lower as your mouth dropped open.

"You got no idea," he growled, lips so close to yours it caused your heart to scream. "How much I fuckin' thought of you. Of this." Fingers slipped beneath the top of your jeans and your head fell back against the wall. "Thought about how sweet you'd taste for me."

"L-Logan–"

He smiled. "Let me give you a proper fuckin' apology."

Echoes of laughter filtered through the already thin door as someone (most likely Wade) told yet another joke. At any other time you would dig up the last strand of your common sense and put an end to Logan's movements. Any other time you'd have enough coherency to understand that if you got caught neither of you would live this down.

Any other time that would have been the first thing on your mind.

But Logan's fingers brushed the edge of your navy blue laced underwear, effectively killing every thought in your head before it could fully form. Your hips canted up into his touch, fingers burying in his hair to tug his face closer. He felt too far even as he pressed you against the cold wall—his body emanating enough heat to have you gasping for air.

"I can smell it," he rasped. "Drivin' me insane honey."

A moan climbed up your throat, but he silenced you easily. His lips found yours in the darkness and you felt your heart cry at knowing he was back. That he wanted you.

You clung to him, tongue meeting his in a messy reunion. All teeth and quick stunted breaths and spit you felt cling to your joined lips. You swallowed his groan with a soft whine of your own. His hand dipped one inch further, fingers prodding against your patch of hair, and you felt your stomach clench.

"Oh–" Your gasp was sharp, loud enough for Logan to cringe as it echoed in the small space.

That didn't stop his fingers from sliding through your slick with a stunted moan. His lips a hot press against your cheek—body caging you into the drywall.

"Gotta be quiet," he whispered.

"S-Sorry–" You dug your teeth into your lip hard enough to taste copper. All in the hopes that it would silence every sound that was desperate to be set free. With the curl of his fingers he struck against your clit in rough strokes, dooming you to the shame that would no doubt come once the both of you stepped out of this closet. "Ah!"

His lips slammed against yours, tongue plunging into your already gaping mouth. He tasted like whiskey. Like everything you longed for in the past two weeks.

Your heart clenched in your chest as he upped the pace of his fingers—the wet echo of your slick now bouncing off the walls. A tremble began to form in your legs and you tugged on his hair to signal what was about to come. But Logan remained one step ahead of you.

He smiled, ignoring the aching throb of his cock as he coaxed you towards a quick and blinding release. One he would replay in his mind for the rest of the night. He knew Wade probably stood outside the door with his ear pressed to the wood, but found he didn't mind. Because you were in his arms, with your lips against his in a dazed kiss, and he had never felt such bliss before.

"C'mon honey. Lemme see you."

"'M almost there," you breathed, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted.

He wanted to eat you alive.

"I know you are. Can feel you leakin' on my hand." His teeth scraped against the shell of your ear, hips grinding along your thigh for some relief. "Let go so I can fuckin' taste you."

A blinding heat began to build faster than you had time to latch onto it; his fingers now tapping roughly against your pulsing clit. You reached for it, let that feeling begin to consume you. Only for something heavy to slam against the closet door—startling the both of you.

Logan ripped his hand away, his body stumbling to the opposite wall. He looked flushed. As if you were the one about to rip a mind numbing orgasm out of his body. Not the other way around.

You coughed, fixing your shirt and jeans as the door swung open. Wade's cocky smile told you everything you needed to know. Being subtle and playing this off was no longer an option, because he knew what you were up to. He could read it on your face.

"What ya thinkin' about?"

"Wilson–" Logan growled, moving to stand in front of you—his claws itching to slide free and dig into Wade's super-healing flesh.

"Wasn't talking to you peanut." He peeked over Logan's shoulder, his smile big and bright and glaringly obvious. "Don't tell me. You two were also debating the logistics of bringing back Robert Downey Jr. to the MCU."

"Shut your goddamn–"

"Because I think it's a money grab. I mean come on Iron Man? Again?"

Logan began to reach for his neck, but your hands pressing to his waist forced him to freeze. You pressed a kiss to his shoulder with a laugh as you squeezed past the both of them. He felt his heart twist in his chest tight enough to send pain down his spine.

Wade still smiled like an all knowing asshole, but the sight of you joining Vanessa on the couch with a sheepish smile eased the nerves that still jumped under his skin.

"Not another word," he spit, shoving a finger into Wade's chest to force him back a few feet.

The man merely smiled—eyes flicking down to the glaringly obvious bulge in Logan's jeans. "Don't tell me. Whiskey dick again? I've told you it's common–"

His claws came free with a roar. Wade's familiar shriek now echoing through the apartment as he sprinted towards your spot on the couch. In the hopes that you might be able to tame the animal intent on ripping him to shreds.

He could count on one hand how often silence echoed throughout the apartment at night. Each time being when Wade disappeared to Vanessa's place with the intent of returning well past the afternoon. Trash still lingered here and there after the small party, but he ignored it in favor of pouring another glass of whiskey.

Falling to the couch with a groan, he felt the weariness of two weeks with Wade on the road resurface in his body. Eventually he'd will himself to sleep. Still plagued by nightmare after nightmare. Except his mind was stuck on the thought of the closet. How you arched into his body with a whine, how wet you were for him in such a short span of time.

There was something addicting about seeing you confront him with your anger. All the fire you kept locked away suddenly became the sole focus of your energy and Logan found he couldn't get enough.

An hour after you were walked home by Vanessa (Wade in tow behind her), he still could smell you on his fingers. The way your scent clung to his shirt when you were up against him. How you moaned for him. So pretty and willing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd sported a hardon for longer than an hour; yet in your presence they always seemed to fucking happen.

The whiskey kept his mind settled on the present moment. On Althea's snores in the background and the city noise that spilled in through the open window. If he was lucky, he'd get twenty minutes in a hot shower with his hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

That alone kept him from passing out on the shitty couch—his mind hazy and drunk on lust.

A beep from his now charged phone drew his attention to your window across the street. The light was on. So he knew you were awake. But the sight of you walking out into your living room—a black robe wrapped around your body—had him sitting up straight. He reached for the device, flipping it open to see your name flash across the small screen.

Logan couldn't even remember pressing answer. All he knew was that your voice filled his ear seconds later.

"Hi," you said, tone breathy and high. Flashes of you from earlier began to enter his mind.

"Thought you went to sleep honey."

You smiled, pushing the window open—your phone tucked between your cheek and shoulder. "I tried."

"Nightmares?"

"No," you sighed. "Something else."

The feeling from earlier began to lick at his veins again, smoldering beneath the surface of his skin. "Yeah?" You nodded. "What is it?"

The sharp inhale of breath gave him a clear and straight answer. One that had him spreading his legs a bit wider on the couch—eyes fixed on the way you fidgeted with your hands. He wasn't able to get you off earlier; just barely on the precipice of an orgasm before you were rudely interrupted. And though you wouldn't say it out loud, he knew you still felt the remnant of an ongoing fire.

"Wade was kind of an asshole earlier about it," you mumbled.

Logan had never seen you this shy before. He wanted to sear the sight into his mind.

He chuckled, low and raspy; you felt it in your stomach. "He's usually that way."

"He got in the middle of us," you sighed.

"He did." Logan leaned forward, elbows braced on his thighs, and watched as you stepped a bit closer to the window. "What about it honey?"

"Well–" Your fingers toyed with the tie of your robe, eyes glued to the way he got to his feet and moved towards the glass. "My door is unlocked."

The robe dropped to the ground with a soft flutter and Logan's mouth went dry. You stood bare before him, the phone clutched in your hand—determination on your face. He felt every part of his body scream at the sight of your skin—your breasts and cunt—presented to him this way. You were a marble statue straight out of a museum and he wasn't worthy of even getting a mere glimpse.

Your heart hammered in your chest at the sight of his claws coming free—a growl ripping through the phone line. He looked starving. Practically feral at the sight of you like this. You'd never wanted a man to devour you this way before; as if you were the meal to be served up on a silver platter.

Cold air seeped in through your open window, tightening your nipples, and Logan clutched the side of his window frame hard enough for the wood to crack. Your scent lingered in his nose—driving him past the brink of sanity.

"Don't fuckin' move," he snarled, slamming the phone shut in his large palm and heading straight for his door.

Counting the seconds, you remained stuck on the sight of his now empty apartment. People milled along the street down below—the late night goers that headed towards the subway entrance. You only hoped that no one bothered to look up. Or else they'd see you naked and standing before an open window.

Five minutes barely passed before your door was being shoved open, his boots a loud echo in the stark silence of your apartment. You turned—gasping at the sight of him disheveled and panting. His claws slid back as he shut the door with a soft thud that felt like a gun going off. Whatever words you wanted to say—explanations you longed to give for your behavior—died the second he walked towards you. Intent painted blatantly on his face.

Meeting him halfway, you collided against his body with a breathless kiss. Your fingers clung to his back as his hands gripped your bare thighs and hoisted you up. He stumbled forward, slamming you softly against the nearest wall, and took your mouth with a possession you'd never experienced before.

Logan kissed you with a heady fervor that left you dizzy. After so long, the aching need for you began to ebb into a madness that swallowed him whole.

One that demanded to be felt in its entirety.

"I'm sorry," he gasped against your lips, tongue licking along your teeth. "For leaving."

"Logan–"

He shook his head, gripping the back of your neck to draw you in for another kiss. "'M never leaving you again honey. Got that?"

With a nod, you pulled him back—tasting the remnants of whiskey and a cigar he must have smoked after you left. He growled into you, hips chasing your dripping cunt as it slid along the crotch of his jeans. Soaking him before he could even get a chance to taste.

There was no denying what this would lead towards. What those days of conversations and quick glances would amount to when the tension finally broke. Logan expected to be left with the fragments of a broken relationship that never was. You were adamant on making it become more.

"I want–" You pulled away with a sharp gasp, his lips slotting against your neck—working down the skin with gentle bites. "Want you inside me."

His forehead pressed to your shoulder, a groan ripping from his chest. "Fuck."

Your lips connected to his neck when he began to walk, teeth sinking into the veins that ran down into his shirt. Logan had to struggle to keep his feet straight—his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass. He couldn't figure out how he managed to have such a stroke of luck. What occurred for him to have you in his arms, naked and wanton and grinding against his leaking cock that smeared inside his jeans.

A soft moan was pressed to his ear when he dragged your hips along his. The final steps into your bedroom now turning into a race to get you spread beneath him. To finally have you in ways that left him worried for his own psyche.

"Driving me fuckin' insane honey," he bit out against your ear, dropping you onto the soft mattress.

You smiled—eyes dark and shining with a cloud of lust. "So are you." Your fingers tugged at the bottom of his shirt. "I've been wanting you to touch me for weeks."

He wasn't going to fucking last.

Yanking off his shirt, he let both of them fall to your floor—giving you free reign to drink in the sight of him above you. The soft touch of your fingers trailed down his arms, tracing the veins in fascination. Your lips parted, chest rising and falling with each quick breath, and Logan felt the strings holding his self control in place snap.

He dipped down, sucking your peaked nipple into his mouth with a groan.

"F-Fuck," you sighed, nails digging into his shoulders so hard he felt his skin rip before it healed over. His cock jumped with the pain—hands fisting your soft comforter to keep himself stable.

"Do that again."

He caught a glimpse of your fucked out smile before your fingers were digging into his back, scratching lines across his skin. A loud moan slipped past his lips as he worked his way down your body. Lips trailing along your stomach—teeth sinking into your hips so hard it would hurt tomorrow. And you scratched line after line into his skin.

Adamant on leaving a mark that might stay till the morning.

"I didn't get to taste you," he murmured, hands moving to spread your soft and supple thighs.

"The closet was too small—oh–"

His nose pressed to your mound, inhaling the scent that drove him feral for weeks on end. Logan was fully aware how animalistic he turned the second his eyes landed on your glistening cunt. He wouldn't be surprised if drool began to slip from his mouth at such a pretty sight.

"Fuckin' gorgeous."

Hazel eyes darkened at the sight of you clenching around nothing—your hand delving into his already mussed hair. No response existed when he looked at you like this. When his thumbs spread you obscenely with a hoarse groan.

"Logan," you mewled.

Trying to form a coherent word flew out of your mind, his touch all you could focus on. A sharp cry fell past your lips when his mouth sealed over your cunt. Tongue flicking your clit and thumb sliding between your dripping folds.

Your legs were hitched to his shoulders, body bent upwards as he ate you like his last meal. His eyes fluttered shut with a moan and he sucked at your clit, rolling it along the tip of his tongue. Sounds you'd never heard before ripped from your chest, your fingers scrambling to grab onto his arms. To find an anchor in the dizzying pleasure he dragged you towards.

The simmering heat from hours before rose up in your body quicker than you expected. Reminding you that he'd already brought you to the edge once.

This time wouldn't take long at all.

He groaned, two fingers prodding at your entrance, and buried his tongue between your folds. The wet sound of his mouth sent a flare of need through your chest—drawing your lungs tight and near the precipice of pain. Breath became nonexistent as he lapped at you—his fingers sinking right down to the knuckle. You clawed at his skin, mouth open and chest heaving.

"Fuck–" Rough pads curled along your walls, striking against a spot you'd never reached on your own. It tore a cry from you, your legs now a trembling mess over his shoulders.

But he kept going. Ate you without stopping. As if breathing was secondary to the taste of you spread on his tongue.

"I-I'm gonna—fuck Logan!"

A growl was mumbled into your cunt, eyes now sharp and focused on your face as it screwed up in pleasure. The echo of your slick filled your ears, his fingers pumping into you and mouth drinking down everything you gave him. It all became too much. Until something bright and searing began to unfold in your body.

His teeth scraped your clit with another rumbled sound, and whatever remained to hold you together snapped. A sob of his name was yanked from your throat, fingers gripping at his hair to keep him still as you grinded against his tongue. And he collapsed onto the mattress, hips pushing into the bed while you used him.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes when the final dregs of your release began to seep from your body. Even while his tongue continued to lap at you—roughly moaning at the taste of you leaking into his eager mouth.

"Wait," you sucked in a breath, hand pressed to his head to keep him at bay when pain sparked through your body. "T-Too much."

His lips curled into a smile, canines on display and mouth shiny with your slick. "'M gonna do that again." Your eyes widened in protest, only for him to get to his feet. "But first honey. I'm gonna fuck you."

The flame sparked to life again, slowly simmering at the base of your stomach. You met him halfway, crawling to your knees to reach for his belt buckle. Lips sliding against his in a messy kiss as he shared your taste, licked it into your mouth with a sigh. It wasn't until your hand dipped into his jeans that he stopped you—his eyebrows pulled together and lips swollen.

"Hold on."

"What's wrong?" you murmured, kissing his chest and biting at the muscle.

"Not—ha—" His hand gripped your ass at the feeling of you tugging at his jeans; your fingers slipping down to cup him gently. "Not gonna last very long if you do that bub."

You grinned. "It's only fair. After you got to taste me...James."

"Shit." A hand on your throat dragged you back to his lips, to the hot slide of his tongue along yours. "Later. I'll let ya do whatever the fuck you want with me later."

Oh how you liked the sound of that. Images of getting him beneath you, of his head tipped back in pleasure, filled your mind. They begged you to make it reality.

Logan however had other plans.

"But I want to suck you off," you pouted.

He felt his cock leak down your hand, the pearly precum now spread along your thumb that rubbed at his vein. Weeks of starving for you left him an impatient man. Yet something told him you saw it clearly in the way his whole body tensed. His fingers digging sharply into any part of you he could reach.

Reaching for your leg he hooked it around his waist and knelt on the bed—his jeans and boots in a heap on the floor. Your lips never strayed far from his, fingers dancing along his bare back—feeling the muscles shift beneath hot skin. He wanted to lay you out beneath him, but the need for more began to eat at both your hearts.

This wasn't a quick and fast fuck. He wouldn't leave in the morning with no notice. No, Logan knew that when it came time for the sun to rise in the sky, he'd be back between your thighs with a sated smile on his face.

"Gimme a second honey," he panted, gently removing your hand from his cock. "Don't want to fuck this up."

You laughed, nuzzling his cheek as he dragged his head through your folds. "You won't baby."

The word slipped off your tongue with ease, but he felt like a shot had just gone through his chest. Somewhere between the two weeks spent apart and getting you like this—wrapped around him entirely at peace—Logan made a choice. He understood what this meant. He knew that you weren't temporary.

Perhaps it was stupid of him to dive in so quickly. Perhaps you’d regret this choice in a month or two. But he was tired of hiding from a past version of himself that continued to haunt his waking life.

He wasn't going to be the man who ran.

He would forever remain the man who stayed.

Your face contorted the second he began to slip into your dripping cunt—fingers sharply digging into his shoulders as he stretched you slowly. Teeth sunk into your bottom lip before your head fell back—a guttural moan pulling from your throat at the feel of him.

"Big," you rasped, hips canting down to help him.

White flashed behind his eyes when you clenched, a broken grunt pressed to your chest. "You can take it for me."

"I–" Another short thrust had him slipping into you with a sigh of your name. "O-Oh fuck."

He felt his claws bite at the skin of his knuckles, his teeth now a sharp prick at the top of your breast, as you settled into his lap. Sitting on his cock with a garbled shout of his name. His hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face back to his, and Logan could feel the pull of his orgasm draw tight in his body at the sight of you entirely fucked out.

"You with me?"

Lips curled into a soft smile, your eyes fluttering open. "Feels like you're in my chest," you mumbled.

Pride bloomed in his stomach, mixing with the heat that ate him alive. "Yeah?"

No answer was given because you'd decided it was time to move with a shift of your hips. He let you take the lead, giving what you could take and pulling back when your face screwed up in pain. He wasn't a small man—that he understood plainly. But the sight of you grinding along his lap, fucking yourself on his cock, had him nearly begging for more.

You gripped his shoulders, clambered to your knees, and sunk down on him again in one swift plunge. Logan choked on his spit the second you started to ride him in earnest. Sinking down on him in short repeated thrusts, you found his lips in a kiss that melted away into a mess of teeth.

"So fuckin' perfect." He gripped at your hips, pulling you down on his red and aching cock. "Takin' me like you were made for it honey."

A whimper met his ears at the slight shift in angle—the head of his cock now pounding against the spongy part of your walls. He grinned at the sound, helping you move just a bit quicker in order to chase the high that built rapidly in your body.

"You were made to fuckin' take it huh?"

You nodded, eyes bleary with tears. "Uh huh," you sighed.

"Made to fuck my cock," he growled. "To cum on it."

"L-Logan–" you whined, thighs shaking with the effort of riding him. He noticed seconds before you did.

"I know baby," he cooed, pushing you back onto the bed and sinking into you with a sharp thrust that sent his name careening from your mouth. "'S too much for you."

Hooking your legs over his shoulders, he claimed your lips in a final kiss before setting a pace that had you clawing at his shoulders. It was almost punishing how good he fucked you. His hips pounded into yours, the repetitive slap of skin against skin now louder than your combined moans.

You felt the string begin to draw tight again, pulling at each muscle and tendon in your body. The walls of your cunt clamped down tight, drawing him in as your hands braced against his chest—your eyes rolling back at the feel of his body dragging against yours.

"There we go," he grunted, fingers sliding through your slickened mess to rub at your clit in small rough circles. "C'mon bub. Fuckin' cum on it yeah?"

"Ah!" Fighting for breath, you felt your entire body break as bliss flooded your system.

The scream of his name pierced his eardrums and Logan swore he felt his soul snap in half at the sight of you so lost in your pleasure. Chasing his own high, he bracketed his arms against your head, his claws now scratching at the wood of your headboard as he fucked into your pulsing cunt. The feel of your hand on his back, your lips against his jaw, sent him flying off behind you.

A rough snarl tore from his mouth as he came, burying himself deep enough to send pain down your thighs. The warmth of him spurting into you sent another flare of heat down your spine, sating whatever unconscious need you harbored to have him this way.

His head dropped to your chest, claws embedded in your now ruined pillow, as his cock began to soften. Your bodies reaching a level of comfort that hadn't been there before.

You ran a hand through his hair, toying with the locks as your eyes fell shut and legs moved to wrap around his hips. It shocked you how much you longed to remain like this. Pressed against his naked body with sleep lingering on the edges of your mind. You nearly asked if he felt the same, but the contented sigh that brushed against your breast gave you the answer you wanted.

"We're doing that again," he mumbled, kissing at your still hard nipple.

"Soon hopefully," you smiled.

"Mm." His cock stirred to life slowly, sending a wave of surprise down your spine. "Careful what you wish for bub."

"At least let me get some water," you mumbled, drawing his face back to yours—thumb running along his cheek. "Then you can–"

Your eyes flew open at the sound of something blasting from across the street. Logan turned with an irritated grunt as a song began to filter through your open living room window. One that you recognized instantly as WHAM!. Careless Whisper if you were shooting for accuracy.

Logan groaned, dropped his face to the crook of your neck. "I'm gonna fuckin' kill him."

A shout bounced off the buildings, Wade's voice suddenly louder than the song. "That's what I'm talking about honey badger! Al give me back my fucking twenty!"

You laughed, trying to listen to what else he said, even as Logan began to kiss a trail down your shoulder. His mind focused on far more important things than his fucking roommate. The song continued to play, Wade singing along horribly, and you suddenly felt your future encompass you with a warm smile.

A life of joy, of passion, of family.

Sinking into his touch with a sigh, you let the worry fall from you in layers. The promise of this, no longer a fantasy.

note: they finally fucked y'all! if you finished all of this then i love you. drink some water per wade's words from earlier.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 27] Moving Forward

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“Shoko, can I help you?” You ask when you see the woman approach your desk. She looks nervous, and you can guess what she’s come to you about. You wait for her to speak though, giving her a moment to gather her thoughts. 

“Can we go out for lunch?” She finally spits out, and you take a long hard minute before answering. You haven’t had a proper conversation with Shoko in what feels like ages, and you haven’t been really willing to talk.

“Sure.” You end up shrugging, acting as if you couldn’t care enough. She’s about to say something else, but her words get caught up in her throat… Talking to you has suddenly become a hard task for her. She ends up deciding to keep quiet, turning on her heel to walk away, and just as she’s about to leave, Satoru calls out her name.

“Shoko! I need something from you, come into my office.” And she rolls her eyes before making her way to Satoru’s office. She goes in first, while he stays behind to have a word with you.

“Do you want to go out for lunch today?” Satoru asks, and while you’d agree, your schedule is filled up.

“I’m a busy woman today. I told Shoko I’d go to lunch with her.” You answer, and he raises one brow. That doesn’t make him change his mind though.

“I’ll join then.” He smiles at you, walking away before you can give him some sort of response. It’s come to the point where you enjoy having Satoru’s presence, especially when you know things are going to be awkward.

“This is a nice place… Is Shoko paying?” Satoru sits beside you, inspecting the restaurant’s menu. It’s pricey, though he shouldn’t worry about that detail since he has more than enough money to pay.

“No, you are.” You answer, and he sticks out his bottom lip. He really hasn’t changed over the past five years.

“Can someone treat me to dinner for once.” He complains, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. You reach over to grab his hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“I’ll treat you to fast food tomorrow, deal?” There’s a mocking tone in your voice, and he picks up on it quickly. He lets out a sigh, putting down the menu on the table and crossing his arms.

“Why did she even invite you out to eat? Is she trying to sleep with you too? Or is that just with Sayo?” Satoru asks which nearly makes your jaw drop. The information isn’t new to you, it’s just weird to hear it from the man himself. You end up chuckling.

“Probably to apologize for the Ren situation.” You tell him, and he raises his brows. He’s confused, until he remembers that you were hiding Ren. It’s not something that Shoko should apologize for, he thinks but then he takes a moment to think about it. He’s glad that Shoko said something, but you obviously feel different.

“Oh right… That was a secret and all.” Satoru mentions and you hum in response. He still can’t help but ask,  “Do we really have to do this?”

“I mean I guess she did do the right thing but she also betrayed my trust. And for what?” You say, and Satoru bites down his lip. You do have a point, Shoko betrayed your trust even if it was the right thing to do.

“I guess yeah…” He can’t really argue any further. He’ll forever be grateful to Shoko for telling him, but he can understand why you’re upset. He can’t control your feelings nor tell you how to feel, so he’ll watch you resolve the issue. Maybe try to help you with your feelings.

You two begin to talk about something unrelated, something lighthearted. Satoru makes a couple of stupid jokes that earn a couple of laughs from you. Laughs that are louder than you’d like to admit. Time gets lost in each other’s presence, though your joyous conversation gets interrupted.

“What are you doing here?” Shoko asks, her eyes lingering on Satoru. The lunch was for the two of you to talk over some issues, and for her to apologize, frankly she doesn’t want Satoru here. 

“I invited myself.” Satoru answers, and Shoko rolls her eyes. She ultimately takes a seat across from you since she can’t do anything else.

“What are you going to order?” Shoko questions, not even bothering looking at the menu. She’s been here many times before, she knows exactly what she wants. You and Satoru look from the same menu even when you have two, and he’s telling you what he thinks sounds good.

Satoru suggests something that he thinks you’d like, and you end up getting it. Once all your food is ordered, Shoko bites down his lip, trying to figure out the right words to speak. But she feels as if she’s forgotten how to speak. 

“So I assume we’re here for a reason.” Satoru makes the first step, and Shoko clicks her tongue. It takes everything in Satoru not to laugh.

“You weren’t invited.” Shoko points out. She’s avoiding eye contact, her nerves getting the best of her. An awkward chuckle leaves her lips, saying, “You’re making this very expensive actually, you should be paying.”

“Invite a guy out for once.” Satoru says, and she rolls her eyes again. “Make it up to me for sleeping with my wife.”

“Weren’t you cheating on her?” Shoko quickly brings up, and you feel your face get warm. You knew that as well, it’s just weird to hear that Satoru was having sex with other women.

“I’ll kill you.” Satoru’s eyes are wide, his cheeks turning pink. She can point that out all she wants, but not when you’re sitting right next to him. He clears his throat and tries to act calm. “I was not cheating on her.”

“Oh right… Because you’re technically separated.” Shoko says, and Satoru takes a deep breath because Shoko is working him up. She’s fighting back a smirk before saying, “We aren’t here for this, anyway.”

“No way your mom didn’t have more kids… You two are like siblings.” You laugh, acting as if you hadn’t heard what just left Shoko’s lips. What Satoru does is none of your business. It has been none of your concern for the past five years. 

“I’m surprised you two don’t act like siblings.” Shoko answers, and you grimace. She chuckles, her sweaty hands going to her pants. She takes a deep breath before focusing on you. Why is apologizing so hard?

“I’m sorry for telling the dumbass about Ren.” Shoko spits out, and it’s not the right way to apologize but it earns a laugh from you. Satoru rolls his eyes, pursing his lips together. Maybe it was best for him to stay. “It wasn’t my place but hearing that he was in the hospital and knowing Satoru was clueless made me feel guilty.”

“Yeah…” You understand her point of view, but you still can’t help but feel frustrated. It wasn’t her secret, but you also get that she was unwillingly dragged into this whole mess. You understand she felt guilty, and it’s selfish of you to expect her silence at the cost of her sanity. You do understand, but you still feel weird about it all. You still feel like you can’t trust her. “I guess I get it.”

“But…?” She asks, feeling that you’re not quite convinced. There’s something more, she knows it. 

“I don’t think I can trust you.” You tell her, and she bites down her lip before nodding in response. She should’ve expected a similar response. 

Food gets to your table, killing any possibility of long awkward silence. You begin to eat, and for the rest of lunch, Satoru makes the conversation.

After lunch, you find yourself spinning around in Satoru’s chair. You wouldn’t have dreamt of this a couple of months back, but once you have a son with your boss you get certain privileges.

“Are you just being lazy?” Satoru asks, sitting across from you in one of the most uncomfortable chairs that his butt has ever touched. You hum in response, and he can’t help but laugh. He proceeds to mutter, “I need to get a new secretary.”

“Watch it.” You warn him, and he sticks his tongue out at you. He wasn’t serious with what he said, but once he takes a moment to think about it, he does consider it. When you stop spinning on his chair and get a good look at him, you notice. “Now what did I do!”

“You’re kind of a bad secretary.” He says, and you furrow your brows. He sticks up his hands defensively before claiming, “I was joking. Best secretary I’ve ever had.”

“Then why are you considering it?” You respond, and Satoru bites his tongue. He instead focuses back on his paperwork, and you sigh. You’re not going to pester him for answers, so instead you inch closer to his computer. “Can I snoop on your computer?”

“Knock yourself out.” He answers, not bothering to look up at you. You unlock the screen in no time, a password so easy to guess that you’re almost disappointed in him. 

Your heart melts at the background photo that he has set. A picture of him and Ren at the beach. You proceed to click on his photos, trying to see if he has anything incriminating in his computer. Perhaps a photo of one of his lady friends since you know that his phone and computer are connected.

You don’t find what you expect, most of his photos are either of your son or of food. He barely has pictures in his camera roll, so it only takes a few scrolls to go back to five years ago. You find photos that you’ve never seen of yourself. Photos that you consider ugly, photos that he’s cherished the past five years.

“Ew, I’m deleting these photos.” You announce, and you begin to handpick the ones that are the ugliest of the bunch. Satoru jumps up from his seat and rushes to your side to take the mouse from your hand. 

“You can snoop around but you can’t alter anything.” Satoru tells you, while he selects a picture of you sleeping. He hovers the cursor on your chin, a smirk on his face, “Aw, look at you drooling.”

“Why do you even have this in here?” You ask him, and he chooses to remain silent. Instead he closes the app and turns off the computer. He rolls your chair away from his computer, and puts you beside his seat for the day.

“Why do you want to even snoop? I promise you won’t find anything fun.” Satoru says, taking a seat right next to you.

“Want to see your lady friends, see if your taste has changed.” You answer, and Satoru shakes his head disappointedly as a chuckle leaves his lips. 

“My taste has not changed, you’re still the only woman that has my heart.” He tells you, and you swear your heart melts but you remain strong. You roll your eyes at him before pointing out,

“Is that why you were sleeping around?”

“Are you jealous?” Satoru asks, and you quickly shake your head. And he says something so insincere because if it were to happen, he’s sure he’d jump off the building, “If it makes you feel better, you can sleep with anyone you’d like.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.” You reply. For some reason your words make him feel better, thinking that you’re not going to run off with some idiot in the end.

“On another note.” He clears his throat, and you raise your eyebrows. “What do you think about going back to school?”

“Huh? Where is this coming from?” You’re confused since you haven’t even mentioned going back to study.

“You don’t want to be my secretary forever, do you?” He makes a great point, though you don’t mind either. You get to goof off and Satoru doesn’t dare reprimand you anymore. Plus, pay is great. “You didn’t get to do what you wanted to do because I knocked you up, but now I’m here. I’ll take care of everything.”

“You know that it’s going to take a lot of time, effort and money for it.” You tell him, and he rolls his eyes. Bringing up money as if he didn’t just buy you a house. He has more than enough to support you financially.

“I’m here now, am I not?” He responds, and you have to take a deep breath. The words rest heavy on your chest, and you feel tears well up in your eyes. You wouldn’t have imagined how three words have such an impact on you.

He sees you’re on the verge of crying, and he throws his arms over you, pulling you into a hug. He rubs your back in an attempt to comfort you, “If I had known that the mere suggestion of going back to school would make you cry, I wouldn’t have said a word.”

“No it’s– I’m fine.” You try to play it off. It just makes him hug you tighter. He’s nearly leaving you out of air, on the plus side, Satoru smells really good.

“If you want to be my lazy secretary forever, you’re more than welcome to. I’ll even give you a raise.” He reassures you, and you laugh. He loosens his grip before pressing a kiss on your temple. “I’ll support you no matter the journey you want to take. Even if it includes an ugly husband.”

“What makes you say my husband would be ugly?” You focus on the least important thing.

“Because if you don’t marry me, he’ll be ugly.” He answers, and you click your tongue. You hate that he’s doing things right.

“Then you’ll have to deal with me and my ugly husband.”

[satorusugurugurl]

The Single Dad Club! (Chapter Two:Geto)

Summary: The Single Dad club consisted of Grto Suguru, Gojo Satoru and Nanami Kento! But with summer upon them, the men find themselves ladies who are willing to have them leave their self-appointed club!

Pairing: Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 4,388

Warning: smut, language, fingering, library smut, public smut, fingering, pin in V smut, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, voyeurism, exhibitionism

A/N: Here’ part two of my Single Dad Club Summer Series! Library smuuut yesss! One part left!! 💚

Part One Part Three

Geto grimaced as he exited the car, opening the back door for his daughters. They excitedly jumped out, running towards the library where Gojo was waiting. The summer sun was scorching, beating down on Suguru as sweat beaded on his forehead. He could not wait to get inside, and it wasn’t for the sweet, cool air conditioner.

It was because of you, the stunning librarian who worked there.

You were beautiful, smiling and grinning as you read to the children. You were always calm and patient when helping people search for books with descriptions alone. The kindness and compassion in your soul was one he only thought existed in fairytales, like a maiden or a princess. That might be why he nicknamed you that.

Gojo tapped his foot impatiently as the girls hugged Tsumiki. “Could you walk any slower, Suguru? I’m melting over here!” He downed some of his cola, gasping softly as he did.

“I could stop to admire the flowers if you’d like?” Suguru’s eyes are smug as he watches his best friend groan as he throws his head back.

“Please don’t; I’ll die of heat stroke if you do.”

Suguru laughs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Where’s Nanami?” A soured look crossed Satoru’s face.

“Already inside with his little mermaid.”

“You should be happy for him. He’s happy with her.”

“Yeah, I'm so happy that the Single Dad Club is down to two members. Does that even make us a club anymore?”

The two walked through the sliding doors and were immediately blasted with cold air. The chill against Suguru’s skin had him sigh in relief as he put all the books back into the return bin before heading through the other sliding door, where the smell of books old and new welcomed him. The silent library wasn’t bustling, which made sense since it was the summertime and many families were on vacation. The Single Dad club made it a point to stop by the library once a week to get books for the children to read so they weren’t glued to their screens.

It had nothing to do with Suguru seeing you in a pretty strawberry dress a few weeks ago when they were getting the children’s summer reading books. He didn’t use you as an excuse to come every week, building a friendship with you until he dared to ask you out. Yeah, no, totally not because of that. (It was)

Geto’s eyes roamed through the different aisles of book-filled shelves, searching for you in one of your dresses or bright colors of skirts. And he found you in no time. He was standing on one of the ladders, reaching for a book on the top shelf. Today, you were sporting a white dress with blue anchors all over it, along with a sky-blue cardigan. Your hair was styled perfectly, and your big round reading glasses were sliding down the bridge of your nose.

Suguru smiled, turning down the aisle you were working on and watching as you added the book to a large stack you were holding. It took some real skill to carry that many books so elegantly. Suguru rushed forward, gently holding the ladder as you descended the wooden steps.

With the sudden heat next to your body, you look up, meeting with dark eyes. Who is the single dad you have had your eyes on for the last few weeks? He was handsome and intellectual. If he didn’t get to ask you out, you would have to do it yourself.

“Geto.” You made sure there was a hint of flirtatious intent in your voice. “Is it Tuesday already?”

“It most definitely is my favorite day of the week.”

“Your favorite day of the week, huh?”

You stroll past him, heading towards your desk in the middle of the library. He followed close behind, the earthy smell of mint following him. You’ve tried not to come too eager; you wanted him to work for it slightly. But the fact that he was following you to your desk like a lost puppy, you know you had him wrapped around your finger.

Suguru the stack of books down to your left before sitting back in your rolling chair. “It’s the day of the week I get to see you.”

“You know I have life outside of the library.” you shuffled through some papers on your desk.

“Oh, do you?”

“I do~”

Your voice had a certain boldness as you flirted back with the man you had been wanting since he stepped inside your library weeks ago. You had never been the assertive one, but you decided when you saw his gorgeous long black hair that you would be assertive this time. If you continue to do what you want, you will be alone forever, becoming that stereotypical librarian in movies and TV shows.

“Hmm, well, I just so happen to have quite a bit of free time right now. I just got back from a major dig, and I’m waiting for clearance to start studying what we found.”

“What do you do again?”

Suguru chuckled, pulling his wallet out and handing you a card. “I’m an archaeologist at the University of Tokyo. I go on digs here, there, everywhere.” You took his card in your hand, rubbing your thumb over his name nicely printed in ink.

“So that explains all the ancient cities and dinosaur books you check out, Professor Geto.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“So, Professor, seeing we both have free time, could I ask you for dinner?”

Bold and to the point, Suguru didn’t think it would be possible to like you more than he did. But lo and behold, his heart skipped a beat at your words. You were the kind of woman to take what you wanted, even if that meant you had to be the one taking the reins for a moment.

While you seem calm and collected on the outside, on the inside, every nerve of your being was on fire and freaking out. You had just asked the hottest man you had ever seen in your entire life to dinner. This wasn't like you at all. You usually were shy and waited for someone to ask you out. But you didn't want to wait for someone else to ask Suguru out. You had to be assertive. And from how Suguru was smirking, his pierced tongue swooping at his upper lip, he must have liked your question.

“How does Saturday sound to you? My girls are going to a pizza parlor and arcade with some of my friend's kids.”

“You mean the members of your single dad club?”

“Well,” he glanced over his shoulder towards the children's section, where he spotted Nanami talking to Gojo as his new girlfriend read to the children at their feet. “We just so happened to lose one of our members just recently. So I don’t think we could qualify as a club anymore.”

“Is that so?” you glance at the group., smirking slightly. “Could he even run a club with a singular member?”

With a blink, Suguru turned to look down at you with dark bangs falling over his eyes. “Singular? There are two of us still in his club.” You run manicured nails slowly down his chest.

“Hopefully, you won’t be single much longer if our date goes well.” there you go again with your assertiveness! Making Suguru snicker with apparent amusement as he peered down at you.

“Princess, you are something else.”

Which was not a bad thing at all. It only intrigued Suguru to get to know you more personally. There was just something about you that pulled him in, and he wasn’t going to fight against it anymore. If Nanami could meet such a lovely partner and seem happier for the first time in years, he should be able to do the same.

“There is nothing wrong with being optimistic about what could happen for us in the future.” with your heart, you waved his card in front of his face. “So Saturday, you could pick me up after work. I get off at four.”

“Four sounds like a good time. I’ll pick you up here at the library. Is that okay?”

“That works out great; we can just head to a restaurant afterward.”

Suguru hadn’t been this excited in years for a date. He found himself beaming with excitement as he walked back to the group. Nanami was oblivious, paying more attention to his little girlfriend who was talking to Yuuji, but Satoru, his best friend, saw the expression on his face. It was the same giddy smile that Nanami was constantly wearing.

“No, oh god.” Satoru pushed his sunglasses up, Brushing his bangs back against his head. “Not you, too!” The pout on his face draws his girls' attention as they look between the two men.

“What happened?”

“Oh, I just got asked out on a date.”

Satoru scrunched his face in disgust while Nanako and Mimiko lit up, eyes sparkling as their heads darted towards you, and you checked out some books for a family. Their little smiles and excited glances between you and their father gave Suguru the strange indication that this was something they had been hoping for. His girls adored you, and with every passing Tuesday, he found himself adoring you more and more.

His dark eyes followed his daughters as he watched you up some of your hair behind your ear, scanning several books, ignoring the angry whispers that resonated from his best friend. Something about how now he was the only single one between the three, life wasn’t fair, yada yada. Nothing else mattered except watching you and that beautiful anchor dress going about your mundane tasks.

You were stunning, and he couldn’t wait for Saturday.

It seemed like it took forever for your highly anticipated day to come around finally. You found your eyes glued to the clock with every passing second, counting down the hours until it was four. Saturdays were reasonably busy at the library, but since it was summer, it was dead. There was no one walking the rows of bookcases. You found yourself bored, tapping your nails against the counter, waiting for someone or anything to happen.

Much to display, nothing of that sort happened; Suguru didn’t come rushing in like you had imagined countless times before. He didn’t throw all the books off your desk and take you there for your moans to bounce off the large echoing walls. Your daydreaming left you feeling horny and needy, not the way you wanted to spend your Saturday, especially when you had a date later. How were you going to be able to focus on Suguru when your panties were soaked?

“Fuuck,” you grumbled as you flipped through the returned books on your desk to distract yourself. Nothing other than fantasizing about getting railed didn't make this day faster. “Hurry up.” you scolded the clock on the wall. These next thirty minutes would be the longest thirty minutes of your existence.

Instead of standing around doing absolutely nothing, you decided to put the most recent returned books away. Heading down the aisles of bookcases, trail your fingers over the spines, looking for the missing places where the books you currently held belonged. With each step you took, you felt like eyes were on you. Watching you from a distance, taking you in, you stood on your tiptoes, sliding a book into place.

The lingering gaze didn’t leave you feeling unsettled. Instead, it had your heart palpitating, heat, pulling between your legs. If you weren’t able to smell the earthy, minty scent that followed you through the library, you might have been freaked out. But instead, you found yourself strutting forward, swaying your hips as the smell of the person following you strengthened. In a way, having him follow you like this in a public place was erotic in its way.

You had read plenty of smutty romance books; this was a trope that you liked. The hero follows the heroine. He kept a watchful eye on her. And if it was written well enough and never came off as creepy. If anything, it was almost romantic.

Unfortunately, neither of those options could describe the current emotions and sensations you were feeling.

It wasn’t a romantic gesture (yet), and being followed like this by him didn't give you the creeps. Instead, it did the opposite. You found yourself walking as seductively as you could, perking your ass up as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to draw him out from wherever he was watching you. Oh, and Suguru was watching from the other aisle, grinning as you glanced over your shoulder and in his direction. You couldn't see him but could feel him watching you closely.

“Hey~ if you're not too busy watching me, maybe you could come around here and give me a hand? I don’t have a stepladder, and I need to put this book on a shelf that's too high for me to reach.”

“Mmm, are you sure you need my help? Or do you want me to come out of my hiding place?” the walls and shelves made it almost impossible for you to pinpoint where he was hiding.

“Maybe both. But I’m more inclined to the second option.”

Suguru laughed near you, and you heard his shoes against the floor. “And what exactly do you have planned for me when I leave my hiding place?” Glancing at your watch, you confirmed that you were still on the clock for the next ten minutes.

“Oh~ I have a few ideas.”

“What ideas are those, Princess?”

“To have you put this book back on the shelf, I can't reach.”

A deep, gravelly chuckle sounds from behind you before footsteps tread over the marble flooring. With each step, you felt your knees growing weaker, your eyes darting to either end of the aisle you were in before the black shadow stretched out over the floor. Following it, you find Suguru standing before you with his hand shoved into his pockets.

He looks so handsome, hair tied up in his signature half-up, half-down style, and his bangs move as he tilts his head to the side. Suguru’s dark gray button-down shirt is tucked into his pants, his black blazer is draped over his shoulder, and his pointer finger is hooked around the collar. Dark eyes focus on the book you’re trying to put away, and he notes how you barely try to reach it.

“Oooh, so you need my help?”

“Yes, please.”

Thanks to his long legs, it doesn’t take long for Suguru to close the distance between you. You feel him get behind you, pressing his body against yours as he so gently takes the book out of your hand. But he doesn’t simply put the book where it goes and step away from you. No, he presses himself fully against your back, gently shoving you against the bookcase, breasts pressing up against the shelves as he reaches slowly up to return the book to its rightful place.

Suguru notices the hitch in your breath and how every muscle in your shoulder seems tense as he presses harder against you. You can feel everything he has to offer: his toned muscles, the sultry laugh that escapes him, and the erection that's starting to grow within the confines of his pants. It leaves a little to the imagination from the mirror size of his packing. Feeling his twitching cock against the curve of your ass had you shutting your eyes tight as you resisted the urge to rock back against, to grind against that thick, hard cock.

Even though you try to play it cool, your body fails to get the memo. Your trembling legs and flushed skin were a dead giveaway that you were insanely aroused. Suguru isn't doing much better. You can feel his hot breath fanning against the nape of your neck as he slides the book slowly into place. Even when the task is done, he doesn't move. Neither of you dare to move an inch.

“So tell me, princess, is there anything else I can help you with?” He rules his hips slowly against the fat of your ass to emphasize his question. “Or would you prefer for us to go to dinner?”

“Fuck.”

“Huh? What was that Princess? I didn’t quite catch that.” He rolls his hips harder against you, angling them an inch and teasing your clothed cunt.

Your pretty navy blue sun dress, covered in white and pink flowers, rides up. “I said ‘fuck’” Giving in to your urges, you rock back against him, drawing out a grunt from the man behind you. “As in fuck that feels good, fuck you're so hot, and fuck, I want you to fuck me.” It happens so fast that you can barely process what’s going on.

Suguru grabs your hips, pulling you back enough for your ass to stick out while you press your hands against the bookcase. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, moaning as Suguru groped your ass. Your skin is so soft and warm; feeling it against his bare hand makes his cock throb harder. The tension between you is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

All of your fantasies from the long day were finally coming true. Feeling this gorgeous man you had been pining after for months, grabbing your ass, pulling you back, and making you move the way he wanted, was all you had been wanting. You were soaking wet, so goddamn wet for this handsome man. As soft whimpers flowed through your mouth, Suguru was entranced by your skin. It's beautiful and so smooth. He admired how well your pretty little sundress complimented your skin and how stunning you looked bent over like this for him. God, he was going to fuck you so good you forgot your name.

“You're okay with this?” Suguru asked, his fingers inching towards your panties, his index finger slowly rubbing circles over the wet spot on them.

“I just asked you to fuck me~ yes, I'm okay with this.”

“Mmm, just wanna make sure baby.” Long fingers tugged your panties to the side before Suguru slowly began rubbing his thumb over your clit in slow circles.

“Ah~ yes fuck—”

His thumb slowly flicked your sensitive bundle of nerves. “We're going things a bit out of order tonight.” Fingers dipped down, collecting some of your slick arousal before returning to his gentle strokes. “But I hope you know I thoroughly plan on fucking you again after I take you out on a property date.” Your legs shook under his constant movements and dirty words. God, it was getting hard to breathe as more moans began to rise in your throat.

“I-I would be disappointed if you didn't.”

“Oh well, we can't have any of that—” his middle and index finger slid deep inside your cunt, drawing out a loud moan from you. “Can we?”

“Haaah~ fuck—!”

“Yeah, does that feel good?” Suguru watched with a seductive smile as you nodded, words failing to articulate on your tongue. “Your pussy is squeezing my fingers like it feels really good~.”

Your hands press harder against the worn spines of the books as you try to look back at Suguru, only every time you try, his fingers just so happen to brush over your g-spot. The pleasurable shocks made it impossible for you to form human words. Seeing your eyes rolling back, as your bottom lips turning a darker shade from how hard you were biting it, only made Suguru plunge his fingers in and out of you faster.

With buckling knees, you cried out softly, the growing tremors of your orgasm rocking through you. An orgasm that was going to leave you a mushy piece of jello. The pressure just kept growing and building, the lid about to pop off when Sughru quickly retracted his fingers out of your soaking cunt. Feeling the loss of his fingers was not what you had been wanting, but before you could even begin to protest, you listened to a belt being unbuckled behind you.

Without the constant salt of his fingers against your weak spot, you were finally able to glance over your shoulder at him. Suguru was a flushed mess; lips were slightly parted, and his eyes were narrowed, focusing on the small of your back before they glanced towards your gaze. He looked absolutely feral, like a starved man sitting before a feast.

You watched closely as he unfastened his pants before pulling his girthy cock out. Suguru jerked himself with a few strokes before grinding it slowly over your wet folds, the tip teasing your clit before he pulled back to press against your entrance before going back towards your clit. It was an agonizing pattern with you hissing under your breath in frustration.

“Geto, please don't tease me.”

“Oooh, but it's so fun watching you squirm.” His long dark hair fell over her shoulder as he bent down, pressing kisses against your shoulder. “Seeing you fall apart so easily makes me want to tease you even more, Princess.”

“N-No, please don't.”

“No?”

“I need you, please, Geto.”

"It's Suguru." He said grabbing your hair tugging on it. "When I'm balls fuckin' deep inside your tight fucking pussy, it's Suguru." He bit down on your earlobe. "Not Geto, not Professor, Suguru."

Without having to be asked a third time, you felt him press the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance. His fast tip stole your breath away as your eyes widened, nails digging into the shelf before you. Suguru slowly inched himself further inside of you, inch by inch, until his raw cock was entirely inside of you.

You were moaning softly as he started thrusting into you with no warning.“Fu-Fuck! A-Ah!, I like the s-sound of that, Suguru! I like this~ fuck! I like you!”

“Mmm, I like you too." He continued to finger fuck you as he pressed his chest against your back. "You also like the thrill, huh?" He angled his hips, pushing against the head of his cock against your g-spot. "Do you like the idea of someone walking in here? Seeing the cute librarian getting fucked?” He nipped at the shell of her ear?

You cried out louder, feeling his cock pushing deeper as he tucked into you at a gentle pace. "Yes~ I love the idea of getting caught with you~"

"Me too." He released the grip on your hair freeing his hand to slap your ass. "Naughty fucking slut." He spread your cheeks, watching his cock slide in and out of your count, a ring of your combined pre-cum forming around his base. "Wanting me to fuck you before I can take you out properly."

“I-I needed you!” His cock is sliding in and out of your gummy walls, brushing over every sweet spot inside of you. He rocks into you and slams into you harder, making the bookcase you're pressing against shake in protest over the force of his thrusts. You keened, whimpering as he rammed into your cervix. "I’ve wanted this so bad, Sugu~~ fuck me; use me like a toy, please!!”

"A toy? Oh fuck no, baby, you're my Princess." His hand roughly moved your back as he wrapped his long, calloused fingers around your neck. Every nerve in your body trembled as he wrapped his hand around your throat. "You’re not a toy, and you never will be.” His fingers tightened around your throat, cutting off your air just a bit.

Your eyes rolled back, your moans becoming higher pitched as he choked you. "Oh god, yes! Suguru!! Sugu, I want to be your Princess; I promise I'll be good to you and do anything to be a good girl!!” Suguru mewled, squeezing tighter as you dropped your hand between your thighs, rubbing fast circles around your clit.

“Baby~ you’re already perfect~ god, I’m going to treat you so good~ fuck!”

"Y-Yeah! M-Me too—me too! I-I’m going to be the best partner." You cried out, turning to try and kiss him, to which he caught your lips in a heated one. "F-Fuck Sugu~ you feel s-so fucking good."

“So do you~ so wet and tight for me~ gonna make me cum~.”

“Y-Yes! Please cum~! I want to cum with you! Please~! Please~!”

Upon hearing your request, Suguru started slamming harder into you. "Alright, babe, cum with me~ cum on my cock." He growled, realizing your throat, dropping both his hands to your hips fucking into you with all his strength. "Cum for me, cum for me, Princess~!" He gritted his teeth before blowing his load, hot cum spurting inside of you.

“O-oooh fuck!” It was the feeling of his orgasm that pulled you over the edge of yours. You screamed as you came, hard gushing around him, rocking back as he panted heavily behind you.

By the time the orgasmic waves finally stopped pulsing through you both, you were both on the ground, his arms wrapped around you as he regained your breathing. He watched as the rays of sunlight highlighted your pretty features as you slowly regained your senses. Only once your breathing was regulated and your eyes were focused again did he gently cup your face, kissing you so softly that it had you melting into his body.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Suguru whispered as he rested his chin on your head. His hands gently rubbed your back as he tried to get the feeling to return to his legs.

“Probably as long as I have.” You snuggle your face into his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent, and he chuckles softly. “Every Tuesday, I hoped you’d ask me out.”

“Mmm, I was going to, but you beat me to it.” He kissed your forehead, smiling. “I’m glad you did.”

“I am, too.”

Suguru couldn’t help but shut his eyes, relishing the warmth of your body against his. Being with you always made his day; my Tuesdays have been his favorite days of the week. But now that you were wrapped in his arms, and we’re about to go on your actual date Suguru knew in his heart, every day he would spend with you would be his favorite day.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

[nishirikiluv]

Twisted Love

Facing Reality

pairings: yandere!jay x reader

chapter warnings: fear, drugging, kidnapping, threatening, restraints, noncon, choking, slapping, oral (f recieving), fingering, protected sex, multiple orgasms, Jay gets kinda mean at one point, please lmk if I've missed anything (also not proofread so.. if theres mistakes, look past it...)

a/n: took me long enough to post chapter 2... i don't know when i'll post chapter 3 but i'll try not to take as long as i did with this one

taglist: @bbyinthehouse

masterlist | previous | chapter 2 | next

It had been about 2 weeks since you had that first awful dream about Jay. It would've been fine if it was a one time thing. But it wasn't. Every night you'd have the same dream. The details were a little different each time, but for the most part it was the same. It didn't make sense that they were dreams when they felt so real. Luckily, Jay seemed much different at work recently.

He joined your group's project at like he'd told you before, but he was acting so normal? He was the same man that chased you into the elevator, right? Regardless, it's relieving that he hadn't been acting that way anymore. Every interaction was strictly professional and work related, which relieved all the prior tension you had about the whole idea of having him in your group.

It was the end of the final meeting your group had for this project. One of the girls suggested you all go out for dinner together to celebrate. Everyone seemed excited so you felt awkward to decline going with them. Jay had a blank look on his face but still agreed to going. Something felt off, he usually wasn't very expressive but right now it felt different. You brushed it off deciding not to dwell on it too much.

Somehow you ended up in Jay's car on the way to the restaurant. The silence was deafening. You tried to get into someone else's car, or even just uber or walk but he insisted he drive you. He cleared his throat suddenly, making you jump in your seat. "We're here."

The two of you walked into the restaurant together, the rest of your co-workers waved you over. The dinner was nice, it felt relieving to just laugh and eat and drink with people.

Towards the end of the night you excused yourself to take a phone call, Jay's eyes couldn't seem to leave your figure as you walked away.

You finished the call shortly, only to be met by Jay right when you turned around. You were startled when he walked closer to you, backing you against a wall. Feels familiar. "Who was that?" The tone in his voice sent chills down your spine. "I-It was my broth-" He cut you off, not bothering to listen to your reply. He grabbed your face, his hand maneuvering your head, as if inspecting you. "You look like you haven't been sleeping well... is something... bothering you?" Obviously you weren't going to tell him about the dreams. You were so busy trying to think of an excuse that you missed the dark look in his eye. "No I just... stayed up late, working..."

He released his grip on your face, patting your shoulder. "You should be catching up on sleep then since today was our final day working on the project." I nodded in agreement. "Yeah... hopefully I can." He hummed in reply, his hand moving down to gently rub your arm. "Will you need a ride home today?" You had a bad feeling about the way he asked, instantly declining. "No!" You yelled without thinking, making him raise a brow. "No.. sorry, I just- I live close so... it's not necessary." He chuckled at the panic in your voice, "If you say so..."

You arrived home, tossing your purse aside, along with your shoes and coat. You decided a shower was necessary so you gathered your things and headed to the bathroom. For some reason you felt the need to lock the door behind you, even though you live alone.

You stepped into the shower and instantly the warm water relaxed you, easing all the strain in your body.

A sudden thud outside the bathroom door broke you from your calmness. You shut off the water, quickly hopping out of the shower and dressing yourself. You heard the thud again, your hand hovering shakily over the doorknob. Did you really want to go see who or what that was? No. But you had to since it is your apartment. You unlocked the door only to find no one there. You checked every inch of your apartment finding nothing.

You plopped down on your bed with a sigh, holding your head in your hands. Is this was going insane felt like?

A clinking sound came from the kitchen right as you were about to lay down. "Didn't I just check in there..." you mumbled to yourself, getting up and slowly walking back over. Your eyes landed on a glass of water sitting on the counter. That wasn't there before. You walked up to it, lifting and inspecting the glass.

An arm wrapped around your waist, a knife coming up to your throat. You felt your blood run cold when a voice spoke. "Drink it." You trembled in his hold, "I-I don't want to..." He pressed the knife against your neck, the sharp end digging in slightly. Your soft whimper of pain made him sigh. The cut was only deep enough to draw a bit of blood. His intentions were to scare you, not kill you. "I wasn't asking. Drink it." The sharp pain left you in panic and you quickly picked up the glass with shaky hands, gulping it down as fast as you could. After a few seconds he felt your body go limp in his hold.

Your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself in an unfamiliar place. It wasn't the usual dark room with white walls, you were sat in a bed with dim lights illuminating the room. Your arms were tied above your head to the bedframe by red ribbons. This dream is weirder than usual.

You watch the doorknob turn, revealing Jay. "My love, you're awake." He sit's on the edge of the bed next to you, caressing your cheek. He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip as he admires the sight of you. "You look so beautiful like this... tied up... in my bed. Do you like the pretty ribbons I used? I thought they'd look great on you." He traced his fingers over the ribbons tied to your wrists.

"When is this going to stop..." You were saying it more to yourself rather than to him. His face twisted into a sinister smile. "When is what going to stop?" You shifted uncomfortably, refusing to make eye contact with him. "These weird dreams..." His loud laugh echoed in the small room, causing you to jump slightly. "My love, this isn't a dream. How cute of you. It never has been."

"What...? Yes it was... I woke up in my room every time... and went to work..." He ran his hand down your body, letting it rest on your thigh. "That was a gift from me. I was being considerate. I knew how important that project was to you so I let you finish it, love. Now that it's over though, I get to have you."

"Y-You can't be serious-"

"I'm very serious. I would never joke around when it comes to you." He ran his hand up your thigh and it was just then that you noticed. He changed your outfit. Instead of your pajamas he dressed you in a short, all white, babydoll dress. Your eyes began to water and he could tell that if you blinked, tears would fall.

He cooed softly at your frightened state, petting your hair softly. "Don't cry, you can't be sad because you were made for me. I'm supposed to have you." He sounded so deranged, stating it so matter of factly as if that was supposed to ease your anxiousness.

Jay climbed over you, wrapping his hand around your neck and smashing his lips against yours. He squeezed your neck, causing you to gasp so that he could slide his tongue past your lips to taste every inch of your mouth. You made no effort to kiss him back, letting a few small tears slip down your cheeks. He wasn't happy with your non compliance. He pulled away to harshly slap you across the cheek, grabbing back onto your neck after. "Kiss me back before we have a fucking problem, love."

The look on his face was horrifying, it completely distraced you from the sharp sting in your cheek. He forced his lips on yours again and you, of course, kissed him back, fearful of what he might do if you didn't.

He pushed the dress up your thighs so he could squeeze the soft flesh. He parted his lips from yours, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. He burried his face in your neck, deeply inhaling your scent. Jay slid his hands up your body, stopping along the way to squeeze your breasts over the fabric of the dress. You gasped softly when he pulled at the ribbon at the top of the dress, making it come undone so that your cleavage was exposed to him. "Fuck, baby, I've waited so long to have you like this."

All the alarms in your head rung in panic. Your body was still weak from whatever he put in your water earlier but you used the strength you had left to try and kick him away, desperately tugging at the ribbons that kept you tied to the headboard. Jay pinned your legs down with his hands, his fingers digging into your thighs. "Relax. If you don't stop struggling I'll have to hurt you. You don't want that do you?"

You quickly shook your head, a soft sob falling past your lips. He smirked at the sight, letting go of your legs to hike the dress up more. "Good girl." He pulled the top of the dress down under your tits, groaning at the sight of your body. His lips latched onto your nipple, his hand pinching and teasing the other before switching sides to give each one the same treatment. You whined, small tears dripping down your cheeks while you squirmed beneath his touches.

Jay pulled away from your nipple with a 'pop' latching his mouth back onto yours. "Your mouth tastes so good, I can't wait to see how good you taste here..." His finger slid underneath the thin fabric of your lace panties, pushing it to the side. He crawled down between your legs, ignoring your cries and pleas for him to stop.

You were embarassingly wet for someone who didn't want this. He couldn't help but smirk at the sight. "Look's like you want this as much as i do." You rapidly shook your head but nothing was going to stop him now.

He immediately pressed his tongue flat against your cunt, licking in between your folds. He moaned at the taste of you, the vibration sending a jolt through your body. Your whines only encouraged him to keep going. Jay latched his mouth onto your clit, sucking hard while he slipped his index finger into you making you gasp out. He lifted his head, groaning when he felt you clench around his finger. "You're so tight Y/n... can't wait to feel you around my dick"

"No no no no- Jay p-please don't!" He clicked his tongue. "You're saying no..." he slid in a second finger, "but you're gushing around my fingers right now..." you cried out, your head falling back. Jay chuckled leaning his head back in between your legs. "Wanna see you come, baby. Go on, don't be shy."

You gasped and writhed, trying so hard to hold back your orgasm. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of making you come, you also felt appauled by the fact that your body was so turned on right now. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting the spot that had you squealing and your toes curling. "F-Fuck.." He doubled his efforts, fucking his fingers faster and harder into you. He was so desperate to see you fall apart to his hands. He began sucking on your clit again, making your legs tremble and forming the knot in your stomach. No matter how hard you tried you couldn't have held back this orgasm. You came with a cry, your body shaking while a layer of sweat coated your skin.

The sight of your high was intoxicating to him. He wished he could have it on video to watch at every hour of the day. The way your eyes squeezed shut, your mouth hung open, your chest heaving with every little gasp and moan. He swore he could've come at just the sight alone.

He continued sucking and licking at your folds, making you whimper from overstimulation. When he pulled away you could see the remanings of your arousal on his lips and chin and you felt ashamed of yourself. He, however, was very pleased.

He wasted no time, unbuckling his belt and yanking his pants and boxers down, tossing everything on the floor. He made sure to slip on a condom and before you could fully catch your breath, or even register what he was doing, he plunged his length into you, splitting you in half. A pained moan left your lips as he thrusted relentlessly into you. He pulled your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle.

He could tell you were in pain so he rubbed your swollen clit, quickly turning all that pain into pleasure. You began to wet around him embarassingly fast. "You're disgusting, getting off on being used by the man that kidnapped you." His words ripped a sob from you. The sight of your tears made him groan and twitch inside of you. He picked up the pace, slamming into you so hard that your body moved up on the bed with each thrust.

The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping, bed creaking, and the wet noises coming from your arousal. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss, swallowing all your cries and moans. His lips trailed down to your neck, sucking and biting at your sensitive skin. His fingers tangled into your hair, pulling your head back to give him better access. Jay lifted his head to watch the way your tits bounced as he slammes into you. He moaned at the view, cursing under his breath. He was close. But he didn't want to come yet.

He started to pinch and roll your clit in his fingers, wanting you to come again before he did. The sounds you made brought him so close to the edge and it took everything in him to hold back. He felt you clench around him and he used all his force to slam into just the right spot. "Come. Come on my dick." Your soft pants and gasps quickened as your orgasm approached quickly. Your orgasm ripped through you with an intensity that had your body going limp. Weak cries left your lips as your body convulsed from the white hot pleasure.

He thrusted harshly into your limp body, coming shortly after with your name on his lips. He continued moving inside you until he physically couldn't take it anymore, slipping his softened dick out and laying on his side next to you.

He admired your weak form, the way you'd already knocked out. He caressed your cheek softly, a contrast to his dark and possesive gaze. He pressed a kiss to your lips.

"Sleep well, my love. Tomorrow, all you're going to see is red."

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Nine - Late night scandals

♡♡♡

"What do you think Bridgerton?"

Benedict turns around to find the artist he had accidentally offended at the gallery the other night.

"This one more to your liking?"

"Mr. Granville--" Benedict raises from his chair to approach the man.

"Perhaps they should take it over to Somerset House so it can be skyed right next to mine."

"I believe I owe you an apology, sir." Benedict says, feeling rather embarrassed.

"Unnecessary. I actually quite enjoy the eloquent stings of your critique. So?" He gestures back to the painting on the wall.

"A touch morose for my tastes," Benedict says.

Henry points to the next one.

"A tragedy. The hound deserved better," Benedict comments.

Granville laughs. "Where is yours?"

"My..."

"Your work," Granville clarifies. "Are you tell me you're not an artist yourself?"

"Well, I-- I suppose sometimes I like to... Well, I mean, I almost--"

"I believe 'yes' and 'thank you' are the words you seek. But either way, you should come by my studio." Mr Granville holds out a small card to Benedict, who accepts it. "The pieces I do for myself are there, and I think you will find my real work far less, um... Oh, how did you put it? 'Cold and lacking inner life?'"

Benedict scrunched up his face as he nodded, still burning with embarrassment. "I shall never live that down, shall I?"

Mr Granville leaves.

Benedict returns to his table where he had been absentmindedly doodling. Eyes. He was sketching out a pair of eyes. Pretty ones. From memory.

He sighs and closes the sketchbook.

♡♡♡

As you sit in the drawing room of the Bridgerton house, as invited by Violet, you discover that she had no idea about the boxing match, or that Daphne had been there.

You keep your eyes focused on the latest Whistledown paper, though you had stopped reading it.

Daphne was playing the piano while her mother interrogated her.

"A boxing match is no place for any young lady." Violet sighs.

"Is it a place for a prince? Was he at today's match, sister?" Hyacinth asks.

"He certainly was."

"It is a loathsome and barbarous form of entertainment," Violet was very displeased.

That was when Daphne took the opportunity to mention you had gone as well, which had Violet looking at you.

"You too?"

You glare softly at Daphne, who gives you a smug little look. Crafty one, she is.

"Anthony invited me," you admit.

Violet looked terribly ill all of a sudden. You were sure she would being this up with her eldest son at some point.

"What about the duke?" Hyacinth asks.

"What about the duke?" Both Violet and Daphne ask at the same time. You eye Daphne curiously from your seat.

"Was he also present?" Hyacinth asked, less enthusiastic now.

"I do not know," Daphne says. "If the duke was there, I did not see him."

Hyacinth leaves the piano to go see what Eloise is up to. She had been scribbling away in her book since you arrived.

You put the Whistledown column down and rose from your seat to seek entertainment near the window. Watching the street was surely more entertainment than listening in on that conversation.

Anthony enters the room and greets both his mother and his sister. You turn and he greets you too.

"Did you truly take your sister to a boxing match?" Violet hounds him.

"Your admonishment will have to wait. I have news," he cuts her lecture short. "Prince Friedrich has asked for my permission to propose." He looks at Daphne.

She stops playing. "So soon?"

"Well, what did you tell him?" Violet asks.

"That I know better than to answer for my sister. I have no objections to the man. People speak well of him. Whatever you decide, Daph, you shall have my support."

You look at Daphne quietly.

"I... uh... I..." She doesn't know what to say.

"You need not decide now," Violet tells her. "You certainly have no known him long."

"Let me know when you have an answer, and I shall convey it." Anthony says to his sister.

"Indeed." Daphne looks at him.

Anthony leaves as quickly as he came in. It was clear Daphne needed time to think.

♡♡♡

When Daphne had pleaded with you to attend the next ball with her, you couldn't say no. There was a sadness to her gaze, and you wondered from where it had risen.

Something had happened between her and the duke, and she had been off kilter ever since.

The ball, like all had been so far, was wonderful. The theme was a little more out there this time, but everyone was behaving quite perfectly.

You were standing with Daphne as she scanned the crowd. Exactly who she was looking for, you weren't quite certain. You would suggest the prince on the account that the duke was apparently leaving London tonight.

The prince could be seen across the room. He was in conversation with someone. You glance toward Daphne, but your gaze shifts as Cressida Cowper comes over. You give Daphne a gentle nudge.

"Daphne." Cressida chuckles. "You look beautiful, as always."

"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne says politely.

"You could have chosen anyone," Cressida says. "You have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute. Yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you? I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us, but I never thought youcapable of being my enemy."

"The man made his choice, Cressida. What did you expect me to do?" Daphne asks.

Daphne walks off in the direction of the prince. You look at Cressida and then walk off in the other direction.

There is nothing you could ever say to her.

You begin to walk alongside the dance floor, watching the couples dance. A hand comes into view, and you turn to see a friendly looking young man smiling at you.

"May I have this dance?"

You take a moment to gather yourself. You had hoped one of the Bridgerton boys would be here to dance with you, but you supposed you couldn't rely on them every time.

"You may."

You go with him to dance.

It seemed Benedict wasn't here.

♡♡♡

Benedict was, in fact, making his way to the studio of Mr. Granville. He was intrigued by the artist.

He finds the address and knocks on the door. Henry Granville answers.

"Mr. Bridgerton."

Benedict stands there a little awkwardly.

"Come in, come in."

Granville lets him in. Benedict enters and follows him. He is led further inside and finds himself in a large room. A circle of easels presented around two nude models.

"I do not know what I was expecting, but it surely was not this." Benedict says.

"Oh, simply a gathering of like-minded souls." Henry tells him. "Here, let me show you what I've been working on."

Benedict is led further inside the studio. He passes a couple of painters discussing war so causally.

"What do you think?" Henry asks.

Benedict walks over and takes a look at the canvas.

"Hmm. It's a far cry from Somerset House, I must say."

"I shall take that a compliment."

They both chuckle.

"And I must say, I'm truly jealous. Is this your life?" Benedict asks.

"There are advantages to being the second-born." Henry tells him. "Heirs have the responsibility. Second sons have the fun."

They both chuckle again.

"So... why not go have some fun?" Henry gestures to the models. He's giving Benedict the chance to epress himself through art.

Benedict picks an easel and sits down.

♡♡♡

As you dance once again tonight, you spot Anthony standing off to the side. He's staring at the opera singer.

You hard heard whispers about him being infatuated with an opera singer, but had no idea if there lay any truth to them.

You continue dancing with your partner.

Benedict was still a no-show tonight, which you found to be rather disappointing. You had been looking forward to another evening of his little quips and teasing.

When the dance ends, you curtsy to your partner and head in the direction of Anthony and Violet. Lady Bridgerton had tries to introduce her son to a rather pretty young lady, but he showed no interest.

"Shall we dance, Lord Bridgerton?" You ask, looking at Anthony.

He turns and looks at you, for half a second, thinking you were another lady his mother was intent on pushing on him.

"Yes, let's." He offers his arm, and you take it. Violet watches you both go. Even if he chose you, she would be pleased, but she knows her son will not take you as his wife. You're his friend who has come to rescue him from her for a while.

Violet downs a third glass of champagne.

"She is persistent," you say.

"Hm?"

"Your mother."

Anthony chuckles softly. "Yes. Quite."

"The opera singer..."

He looks at you.

"Nevermind. Its not my business."

Anthony's expression softens. "I was - am - found of her."

"Yes. I assumed as much."

Anthony sighs. "It's complicated.

You nod and say no more on the matter. Anthony spins you around elegantly.

"Is Benedict not here tonight?" You ask, twirling with him.

"Benedict? No." He gazes at you. "Why do you ask?"

"I just noticed his absence."

"Missing your dance partner?" He teases.

You chuckle. "Am I that obvious?"

He winks at you, and you shake your head with a smile. "I'm fond of you boys. I can't help it when I notice one of you is missing."

Anthony grins. "How lucky we are to have gained such a special friend such as you."

As Anthony gives you another turn around the floor, you spot Colin speaking with Penelope. You smile softly at the sight and then turn your attention back to the eldest brother.

At least you'll have one Bridgerton on your dance card tonight.

As the next dance begins, Anthony keeps your company longer. You're aware this may catch attention from others, especially Lady Whistledown should she be here, but none the less, you dance with him twice.

You soon see that Colin has left Penelope on the sidelines to dance with Miss Thompson, and you also find the prince talking to Daphne amidst their dance.

The dance ends, and you manage to catch sight of Daphne fleeing the ballroom.

Anthony bows, and you curtsy.

"Until next time." He nods his head at you. You smile and nod, taking your leave. You worry about Daphne and intend to go check on her, but you're stopped by another gentleman.

You sigh and realise you'll have to dance with him before you can flee again.

The dance feels like it drags on, and on, and on. You smile, you listen to your partner talk, but your mind is focused on Daphne. She did not look well when she fled.

When the dance ends, you spot Anthony leaving the ballroom. You waste no more time and follow him.

He heads outside. You follow.

"Anthony?"

He turns and looks at you. "Go back inside."

"What's the matter? What's happening?"

"Did you see him?" Anthony asks urgently.

"Who?"

"The duke."

"He is here?"

"He was, and now I can't find Daphne." You realise he's concerned about his sister.

You hear something further in the garden, and Anthony hurries off. You follow him, close on his heels.

What you find is not what you ever expected to see.

Simon and Daphne were not just kissing. His hands were all over her. Her dress had been pulled down. You cover your mouth, though you can not hide the gasp that escapes you.

Anthony runs at Simon.

"Bastard!"

Simon receives a strong punch to the face. He falls to the ground, and Anthony takes another swing. He punches him a third time and then stands beside his sister. You hurry to her other side and checks her over.

"Daphne..."

She is speechless. She has no words for you. They have been caught in a compromising position.

"You will marry her," Anthony declares.

"What?" Daphne looks at her brother.

"Immediately. We can only hope no one saw you take such liberties, and my sister is saved further mortification. You will marry her!"

Anthony is angry.

"Brother!"

"I cannot marry her," Simon says.

"You have defiled her innocence, and now you refuse her hand? I knew you were a rake, Hastings, I never thought you a villain."

"I cannot marry her," Simon states more firmly.

Daphne looks hurt.

"Then you leave me no choice. I must demand satisfaction."

"A duel? Anthony, you cannot--" Daphne begins.

"He dishonours you, sister." Anthony looks at her. "He dishonours you and me and the very Bridgerton name. I have misjudged you, indeed. You have duped us both, but I shall not see my sister pay for my own misdeeds. We will settle this as gentlemen."

"I understand," Simon agrees. "I shall see you at dawn."

"I do not understand," Daphne says softly. "You would rather die than marry me?"

You look at Simon quietly.

"I am truly sorry."

"We need to go, Daph. Before anyone should see us." Anthony says softly.

You reach out for her arm gently and pull her away, Anthony follows you both.

Daphne takes her brother's arm after he begs of you not to say a word about anything. You swear by it, looking him in the eye. Anthony thanks you.

You drift off from them as you enter the ballroom once again.

Anthony approaches Colin and tells him he is taking her home. He asks Colin to take care of their mother. You decide to step in and help. Anthony looks grateful.

Anthony and Daphne leave.

Colin looks at you, but you just smile softly at him and ask him to help you with Violet. He doesn't say anything about Daphne or Anthony.

Neither do you.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen -

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 1- Jello at Your Front Door

Summary: 15 years ago, a football and a boy four doors down makes your move to Florida a little more bearable. Now, you're not quite sure how to feel when you find out he's shown up back at home unannounced

Word Count: 5.5K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, Frankie has a nickname for reader)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, meeting Frankie for the first time, cute, awkward baby Frankie, a football throw Santi will never forgive you for

A/N: ... Hey.... How y'all doin'.... Remember when I said I was gonna start a different Frankie series months ago? I hope you humbly accept this as my official formal apology for not being able to get my shit together, as I present this offering to you instead 🙂 I started writing this 24 hours ago and I legitimately couldn't stop, so here we are??? I know this is a different style that what I normally write, but here's to trying new things (and hopefully finishing them). I hope you guys enjoy 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

Next Chapter

You, Present

“Frankie’s home.” 

You weren’t really sure how to comprehend how the combination of those two words would be one of the worst sucker punches you’d taken to your gut in the better part of the last decade. 

As the sentence replayed over and over in your head, you could think of any other combination of two words that would have scared you less. 

“Hurricane’s coming.” 

“Bomb’s dropping.” 

“World‘s ending.” 

In a universe where things make sense, the response these would elicit from the average person would be reasonable, rational even. When you’ve been given a warning about the way two words have the potential to alter your reality, you can’t help but panic. 

But today, you’ve woken up in a universe where things don’t make sense. 

And what’s worse is, you didn’t even get a warning. 

The statement shouldn’t have shaken you as much as it did. When you’d seen his truck parked in the driveway four houses down, you knew it had to be him. Anyone else in the world would be caught dead driving the barley mobile piece of metal he’d been traveling in for the better part of 20 years. But Frankie Morales was not anyone else. He’d drive that damn car until the wheels fell out underneath him. 

It wouldn’t be the first time you’d gotten in a stubborn stare down with his 1989 maroon Chevrolet Silverado. You had a sneaking suspicion that today wouldn’t be your last. 

“Why is Fr- Why is he back?” 

You hadn’t intended for your tone to be so bitter, but the taste of Frankie’s name on the tip of your tongue left a taste in your mouth so sour, you wanted to recoil into yourself. 

“Why do you think?” It was clear your mother had no interest in playing into your game of cruel intentions, barely paying you any mind as she glanced out the window, unphased by the looming presence in the Morales’s driveway, “You should go say hello.” 

“No thanks, I’m not a fan of purposely ruining the rest of my day.” You don’t mean for your eyes to roll as far back into your head as they do, but you can’t help it. At this point it seems like an innate, programmed response. Simply the thought of Frankie Morales was enough to dampen your mood; an intentional confrontation was the last thing you needed. 

“You’re going to have to see him at some point, you know. Can’t hide from him the whole time he’s here.” 

Your mom hadn’t even given you the chance to rebuttal, disappearing from your bedroom to leave you to stew in your own resentment, because she knew as well as you that it was pointless to fight back. 

At some point, you’d have to face Frankie. Today, you’d stick to hiding. 

You, Summer of 1999, Age 11

26 total hours trapped in a U-Haul with your family and every item you’d ever owned was not the way you had planned to spend your last week of summer before starting middle school. You’d hoped that the nearly 3 day journey from Michigan to Florida would be long enough to help you cope with your distress. Unfortunately, you weren’t shocked that cramped quarters and unclear driving directions in the midst of uprooting your life wasn't doing much to lighten your mood. 

Your parents had promised you the move would be worth it. That starting a new life halfway across the country would be good for your family. You weren’t quite sure what positives Florida posed to you, but even at the ripe age of 11, it didn’t take a genius to realize that “starting over somewhere new” was code for “trying to keep your dad alive.” 

The doctors back home were thrilled to tell you about the new, potentially life saving treatment for his rapidly progressing colon cancer. You were thrilled too, until that new, life saving treatment meant moving 1,300 miles from home. 

Not once did you protest- keeping your dad a living, breathing part of your life was better than having to say goodbye to your best friends, but it still didn’t mean every mile you drove further and further south down I-75 was another grain of salt in your freshly open wound. 

Your parents had tried to incentivise you with all the joys that Florida would have to bring- warm, sunny weather, beaches, being a 3 hour drive away from Disney world, a bigger house, the list went on and on. And while you knew one day you’d find joy in the rewards you’d reap from your sacrifice, you had a feeling that day wouldn’t be coming any time soon. 

It took too many movers to count to finally get your new house to resemble what was supposed to be a home. There was something so unsettling about seeing your furniture reassembled into unfamiliar corners of a place you’d never been. Even the things that were supposed to feel familiar and comforting now felt distant and foreign, scrambled in the walls of your new residence like a child who had shaken up a box of their favorite toys and dumped them out on the ground, leaving behind a mess for someone else to clean up. 

The only solace you could seem to find in the wave of chaos that had washed over your life was the view outside your bedroom window. A quiet escape, perfectly positioned to watch the warm rays of sunset fade behind the rooftops, the night slowly shifting into shades of black and blue as your eyelids became heavy.

Each night as you drifted to sleep, you dreamt about the ways you could be saved from the lonely island you were trapped on. A sole survivor begging to be found. You tossed and turned in the sea of your twisted bedsheets, crying out that there would be someone, anyone who would risk their life to rescue yours. 

On the first two nights, the only response to your pleas was a deafening silence, an insult to injury that you were destined to spend the rest of your life on a godforsaken landmass no one would ever find. On the third night, your cries carried on the winds of the warm summer air, sneaking through the cracks of an open window four doors down. 

“You should go out there and play with those boys down the road! They look like they’re probably about your age!” 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed the two gangly figures racing up and down the street for the better part of the last hour, hoping they wouldn’t catch your passing glances through your living room window as you pretended to watch whatever episode of “Rocket Power” aired next on Nickelodeon. Perhaps the pair boys hadn’t noticed you watching them, but your dad had surely noticed the way you could have cared less about whatever was on the TV in front of you. 

“They’re playing football, I don’t really think they’d probably want me to play.” You huff under  your breath. 

“You’re good at football. Probably better than they are.” Your dad laughs like it’s meant to be funny, but you know he’s serious. He’ll never admit to you out loud he wished his only child would have been a boy, but you’ve never minded playing the role of the son he never had. 

And he’s not wrong. You definitely are a better throw than either of them. 

“They’re gonna think it’s weird that a girl’s asking to go play football with them.” The sigh that follows this is even more annoyed than the last, now too self aware at 11 years old to revert back to the days of approaching kids you’ve never met on the playground and asking to join in without needing to worry about the social repercussions of your actions. 

“Well, you can either pout and pretend to watch TV, or you could go try to make some friends. That’s up to you, Bud.” He smirks at the scrunch in your brow and flair in your nostrils, the same face he knows he makes when he’s been hit by the cold, hard truth he doesn’t like. 

You know he’s right. 

“Fine,” You grumble, reluctantly pushing yourself off the edge of the couch, “But if they’re dumb, I’m coming back home.” 

“Atta girl. Go easy on ‘em, Killer.” 

As you step outside, it feels like you’ve become some sort of jungle explorer, trying to approach a herd of wild animals in their element without startling them to the point of attack. You’d even brought a peace offering to ease the introductions, hoping that your own football would be an appreciated contribution to their game. 

As you make your way down the street, you’re not sure if you’re particularly good at sneaking up on the boys, they haven’t noticed your presence, or worse, they’re actively trying to ignore you in hopes that you’ll go away. 

“H-Hi.” You stammer, half attempting to wave at the back of their heads, nowhere near close to catching their attention. 

“Hello?” This time it’s a little louder, slowly taking a few steps closer, “Hi?” 

God, maybe it’s a fourth option you hadn’t considered and they’re both deaf. 

“Hey!” 

This one finally catches their attention, causing both boys to turn around cautiously, not sure whether they’re more shocked that someone’s interrupted whatever play they’re about to run, or that the person who’s interrupted them is you. 

All of three of you stand in silence for a moment, mind racing in curiosity as you take in the image of clumsy limbs and messy mats of hair stuck to sweaty foreheads. The one boy is shorter, thick, jet black curls sprouting from the top of his head and arms crossed over his chest with a scowl on his face that’s not quite mean, but most definitely not welcoming. 

The other, taller and lankier, a mop of dark brown hairs twisting at the nape of his neck, eyes soft as he glances back and forth between you and his friend. His demeanor is much different, almost nervous compared to the boy standing next to him, fits balled in the pockets of his shorts while the adam’s apple he still needs to grow into bobs in his throat. 

For as much as no one wants to draw in the silent standoff you’ve entered, you started this mess, so you might as well be the first one to fold. 

“H-hi. Sorry, I um, I didn’t wanna interrupt-” 

“I mean, you did.” The shorter boy mumbles, wincing as the nervous one slaps him in the chest with the back of his hand. “Jesus, what was that for, asswad?!” 

“Let her talk!” He grunts, sneering at his friend before turning back to you, his face much kinder now than the expression he just gave to his friend. “Sorry. You can um, you can keep talking if you want. Sorry about him.” 

You try not to laugh at the exchange, but it’s hard not to smirk at the way the two have managed to put themselves on display in the thirty seconds you’ve spent talking to them. 

“It’s okay. I um- I just moved in down the street. That green house over there.” All of your eyes shift as you point behind you, signaling where your journey had begun a few moments ago, “I was uh- I was wondering if you guys wanted another person to play with? I- I brought my own football.” 

“Normally you only need one football to play football, duh. Do you even know how football works?” 

In an instant, your heart sinks to your gut, eyes dropping to the ground to watch your feet start to drag across the pavement, back to where you came. But before you can lift the sole of your sneaker from the cement, a voice stops you. 

“She obviously does or she wouldn’t ask, numbnuts! C’mon, Santi, don’t be a dick.” 

Although it’s not directed at you, it’s enough to bring your attention back to the kinder boy, no name yet, but quite positive it’s not also Santi (or asswad). The two of you lock eyes for a moment, a strange sort of calm running through you as his slight half smile reveals his brace covered teeth, looking at you in a way that makes you feel just a little less small. 

“Yeah, you can play with us. I’m Frankie, by the way.” 

Frankie. 

There’s something about his name that fits him so perfectly. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but you know from the way it rolls off your tongue that it just feels right. 

“Hi, Frankie. I’m Mackenzie.” 

Frankie’s hands are now out of his pockets, a line of defense dismantled after hearing your name. 

“Hello? Have we forgotten about me? There are three of us here, remember?” 

“This is Santi. Well, Santiago, but we all call him Santi.” The way Frankie rolls his eyes at his friend tells you everything you need to know about their friendship, giggling at the way he dramatically pouts as he introduces him. 

“Mackenzie? Isn’t that, like, a last name?” Santi asks, still not yet warmed up to the idea of you, but intrigued enough to ease how tightly his arms are crossed. 

“And? Isn’t Santiago the capital of Chile?” You sass, your mater-of-factness and quick wit making Frankie unintentionally snort. 

“Alright, touché, Christopher Columbus.” Santi mocks, acting tough to try and hide the pink blooming in his cheeks. 

“I like Mackenzie. I think it’s cool.” 

There’s something about the way he says it that you know he means it, wondering why the way hearing your name fall from his lips churns your stomach in a sensation you’d never felt before this moment. 

“Yeah, well, just so you know, Frankie is short for Francisco.” Santi interrupts, trying to find a way to get a jab back at either you or Frankie, at this point he doesn't really care which. 

“Well, last time I checked, there wasn’t a Francisco, Chile.” 

That one sends Frankie into full blown hysterics, boyish snickers taunting his friend, whose attempt to save his namesake has left him the butt of the joke. 

“Will the two of you clowns just shut up and throw the ball? If you’re gonna let her play, Frank, can we at least make sure she can throw?” Santi whines, using every ounce of prepubescent strength he has left to play into his unbothered facade. 

“You can use your ball if you want.” Frankie suggests, shrugging at his indifference to the ball held in your hand compared to the one held in yours. 

“No! If she’s playin’, she’s usin’ our ball!” Santi’s voice trails further away with each step back he takes, settling himself in the middle of the street a few feet down from where you and Frankie stood, not willing to take any more risks when it comes to you, even if it’s something as stupid as a football. 

“Fine by me.” You shrug, happily obliging to his request, Frankie giving you a silent nod of reassurance as he passes his football off to you. 

It’s only now you notice he’s nervous again, one hand back in his pocket as he wriggles his toes in the ends of his worn sneakers while you size up your toss, knowing he’s worried that Santi will never let him live it down if the ball can’t make it more than three feet in front of you. 

Neither of you would know it then, but the silent exchange you make with Frankie as you line up your throw would be the first of many unspoken promises you’d keep to him. What seemed like a simple task,  to prove worthy of his friendship by throwing a football, would turn out to be the most important promise you'll ever make to Fransisco Morales. 

You weren’t ever going to let him down. 

“You can go further back.” You shout, almost offended by the distance Santi had chosen to stand away from you. 

“If you can make it this far, I’ll be impressed.” 

“You promise you’ll go get it after I throw it past you?” 

“I promise, Joe Montana, throw the damn ball.” 

You shrug at Frankie, like he’s supposed to know what comes next. He’s too scared to question either of you, all he can do is let his eyes dart back and forth between you and Santi, knowing there’s no world where both of you can prove your point. What scares him more is that he trusts you more than his friend. 

You line your fingers up on the laces, gripping the leather like your life depends on it. In a way, it does. With a step forward, your arm hurls the ball, two of the three of you standing dumbfounded in the street as you watch it soar further and further past its intended target, spirling through the sky until it bounces off the cement with an acrobatic roll, three times the distances of where Santi had placed himself. 

You don’t say anything. You don’t need to. You just smile and shrug- it's the best “I told you so” you could give them. 

“Fine. She can stay.” 

To this day, it’s the closest you’ll ever get to a compliment from Santi. 

“Nice work, Kenz.” 

Your stomach flips. You try to blame it on the adrenaline of it all, that there was no way a compliment so simple had you wiping your sweaty palms over the denim of your shorts, trying your best to erase any evidence that he was the reason your heart was racing out of your chest. 

Now it’s 15 years later, and as much as you hate him, you still can’t get that goofy, brace faced smile out of your mind. 

Frankie, Present 

There’s a reason he shows up at 1 A.M. Everyone’s asleep. If the world is asleep around him, he’s safe from having to deal with anyone, at least until morning. There’s a part of him that wishes he would have parked his truck down the street, tricking you into thinking that he wasn’t even there. 

It’s hard to justify when you’re the reason he’s back home in the first place. 

When he got the call from his mom, he knew he had to come. He didn't want to, but he knew he’d hate himself forever if he didn’t. 

“Hey, Mamá.” 

“Francisco, how quickly can you make it home?”  

“Mom, I told you, I’m not-” 

“It’s Doug. He’s in hospice.” 

“Fuck. How um- how much longer do they think he has?” 

“When I talked to Michelle, she said they were hoping for a few more weeks. But I’m not sure. He doesn’t look good, mi amor. If you want to say your goodbyes, now’s the time.” 

“O-okay. I can probably be home by tomorrow. Gonna be late though. Is uh- is she, um-” 

“She’s here. For about a week or so already. She keeps looking over at your empty spot in the driveway just like she did all those years you were away. Waiting for you, Francisco.” 

It’s the lump in his throat and ache in his chest that gets him home an hour and fifteen minutes faster than what his GPS said it would. He’s not sure what delusional part of his mind thinks that maybe you’ll be waiting for him when he pulls into the driveway. Maybe it’s the same delusional part of his mind that pictured you sitting there, cross legged on the concrete, staring up at the sky to count stars like sheep, waiting for him to come home all those years ago. 

He’s also not sure why it hurts so bad when he shows up and you’re not there. 

Frankie feels like he’s 16 again, sneaking into his own house in the wee hours of the night, digging the spare key out from under the doormat, attentive to the practiced pattern of how to avoid squeaks in the hinges as he turns the lock behind him, careful not to wake a single sleeping soul. He tiptoes over the 4th stair to the second floor and barely taps the 7th before he finds shelter in his room, successful from his journey. 

Every time he comes home, he can’t help but laugh at the fact his mother refuses to change anything about his bedroom. Everything is in the same place it was the day he left for the Air Force, down to the pile of unfinished homework from his Senior year of high school stacked on his desk. Each time he sees it, he’s never sure if the source of his laughter is nostalgia or irony. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. 

When he looks at the picture frames scattered across his nightstand, a 17 year old Frankie stares back at him, tall and gangly, arms too big for his own body, an awful haircut he begged his mom to let him get. It was the year he discovered how much he couldn’t live without a hat, simply out of necessity for the 6 months it took for his hair to grow back out. You were the first one to tell him how cute he looked in the one hat he already owned. He bought three more in the weeks to come. 

He wonders what the 17 year old in those pictures staring back at him would think of him now. If there’s one thing he knows for certain, it’s that high school him would have beat the shit out of him for the way things turned out, scrawny limbs and all. 

It seems like the military has taught him how to sleep anywhere besides his own home, keeping company with the shadows dancing on his ceiling in the moonlight, tossing and turning in the tattered sheets of the twin sized bed his mom promised she’d upgrade when he got big enough. To this day, he and his mom both know he was never begging her for a new bed because he had outgrown it, he just always wanted to make room for one more person. 

He clocks 3 and a half hours of sleep as good enough, creeping out of his house the same way he had come in, making the 5.4 mile trip to Benson Park to watch the sun rise. Frankie’s always hated running, it’s just as much of a surprise to him as it is to everyone else that he keeps doing it. It makes his knees hurt like shit and his lungs feel like they’re being strangled by rubber bands, a cruel cycle of self punishment he can’t seem to shake his addiction for. 

He’s sat on the same side of the bench underneath the ancient Blooming Dogwood since the first time he came here. He tried one time to sit on the other side. He’s superstitious enough to believe his one time fuck up has had a lasting effect. The bench is so hidden at the back of the park, he likes to think that the two of you are the only ones to have ever found it. No one else has ever burst through the bubble of secrets shared between the two of you there, leaving the wood grain to be stained with memories and moments that have shaped the both of you, good and bad. 

It’s the first place you ever told him about your dad. It’s the first place he ever told you about his. His dad was already nothing but memories by then. It makes him sick to his stomach that soon, that’s all you’ll have left, too. 

Frankie, Fall of 1999, Age 11

“How much longer do we have, Frankie? I feel like my legs are gonna fall off!” 

“Quit being such a baby, you’re fine!” 

“Next time we have to ride our bikes this far, I’m pulling an E.T. and riding in the front basket of your bike.” 

“Perfect, you look just like him.” 

“Frankie!” 

“Kidding, kidding!” 

Frankie’s never had a friend like you before. Sure, he’s got Santi, but it’s not quite the same. 

Santi took some easing into- five years ago, when Frankie moved onto Everett Street, he became a friend by force, not choice. Santi staked his claim on him, seeing Frankie as a gift sent straight from heaven, finally having another boy his age to play with after too many years of being sentenced to dress up and tea parties from his 3 older sisters. 

Santi was everything Frankie wasn’t- loud, assertive, the kind of friend who grabs you by the hand and drags you along with them whether you liked it or not. There’s times now, after a half a decade of friendship, that Frankie still questions the way Santi’s brain is wired, but Frankie’s too good of a friend to ever make a fuss about it. 

You, on the other hand, needed no easing into. From the moment he met you, watching you toss that football so far past Santi that he was convinced it would disappear on the other end of the street, Frankie had been mesmerized by you. 

There’s something about you that makes him feel a weird thump in his chest every time you’re together. Everything about you gives him comfort in a way he can’t describe, a safety he’s felt with very few other people in his life until now. 

There’s just something about you. He still hasn’t been able to quite pinpoint what it is. 

Whatever it may be, it’s enough to invite you on a bike ride to the back of Benson Park instead of Santi. 

“Do you even know where we are? I don’t think there’s any more park left past this point, Frankie.” You huff, slowing the wheels of your bike behind him as you come to the edge of a steep rolling hill, nothing left in front of you but acres of empty land and tall grass. 

“Yeah, I do. Maybe we just passed the trail on the way in. We’ll just- We can just find it on the way back.” 

He knows you know he’s fibbing, but he wants your trust that he won’t lead you astray more than he wants to tell the truth. 

“Okay. There’s a bench underneath that tree. Can we just sit for a little bit before my legs turn to jello?” 

You’re already halfway off your bike before he can respond. Even if he had said no, there’s no way he’d leave without you. 

“Fine. What flavor jello?” 

“Whatever flavor is your least favorite so you don’t eat my legs, Francisco. That’s just weird.” 

The two of you laugh, tossing your bikes to the ground as you bottoms find the wood of the bench you’d pointed out, you on the right side, Frankie on the left. 

“My mom only ever gets the red kind. I don’t even really like it that much. Don’t worry, you’re safe, Kenz.” 

“I don’t really like it either. But we have every flavor at my house ‘cause that’s like, all my dad eats.” 

Frankie starts to laugh like you’re playing a joke on him, trying to pretend your dad’s diet exists exclusively of artificially flavored gelatin, but your sudden silence and the way your voice drops to the ground right with your eyes tells him he’d better stop snickering. 

“Your dad only eats jello?” 

“Well not only, but a lot of it, I guess.” 

His face scrunches with a mixture of confusion and concern at your sadness. He’s never heard you this quiet before. 

“Um, w-why?” 

The silence is almost deafening. He’s not sure why he should be so concerned with asking about jello, but he’s too curious to let it go. He selfishly wants to know what about it makes you so upset, because he just as selfishly hopes there’s something he can do to make you feel better. 

“My dad has cancer. He’s really sick. He can’t really eat a lot, but jello’s the one thing he can keep down most of the time without, like, throwing up or whatever.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, like you’re worried someone else will hear and spill the rest of your secrets right along with this one. You say it like he’s the only one in the world you want to hear it. 

“I’m- I’m sorry. That sucks.” 

Frankie blames it on his instincts, the way his hand finds yours, outstretched on the bench. He touches you like he’s handling a baby bird who’s fallen out of its nest, delicate and careful, calculated, hoping you won’t try to fly away in fear. Instead, your hand welcomes his, scooting closer to the weight of his palm resting on top of it. He feels you give in as you let him carry you back to safety of the tree you’ve descended from. 

“It’s okay. That’s why we moved here. The doctors in Michigan said that there were even better doctors here who could maybe help make his cancer go away.” 

“And then maybe he won’t have to eat as much jello.” He takes a gamble with the joke, but it pays off with your surprised snort, “Sorry, that was stupid. I shouldn’t be joking about it.” 

“I mean, it was, but it was funny. It’s okay, my dad jokes about it, too. He always says, one day, it’ll be funny, so might as well make that day today.” 

His heart warms as he watches a small smile return to your face. It heats the pink in his cheeks when he realizes he was the one who helped bring it back. 

“Your dad sounds nice.” 

“He is. Even though he doesn’t feel good a lot of the time, he still always tries to come to my soccer games and stuff. I know he can’t be like what he was before he was sick, but he tries to be. What about your dad?” 

Frankie prays you don’t notice the way his heart sinks like he noticed yours. He chews on the inside of his lip so hard, he thinks it may bleed. He wants to lie, but he knows that you’ll know. You always know. 

“Um, I don’t- I don’t really see my dad.” 

It’s you now who's grabbing his hand, offering him the same type of safety net he’d made for you. He’s barely known you two months. He’s known Santi for five years and all he knows is that his dad doesn’t live with him. Frankie didn’t want to tell him, he’s not sure he’d understand. There’s a strange sensation that swirls in his gut, because he wants to tell you. You’d laid the first brick in the foundation of trust between the two of you. The least he can do is help you keep building. 

“Oh. Why don’t you see him?” He sees you’re prying, but not in a way that hopes to expose him. He knows you’re prying because you want him to let you in, to get a peek at what's behind the curtain. It’s a locked door most people in his life will ever get access to, but he’ll let you have a spare set of keys. 

“I never really knew him. My mom said he left when I was a baby. She says she’s always been happy it’s just me and her. That it was easier to live with one less person than to live with someone who was mean.” 

“Your mom sounds like a wise lady.” 

He appreciates the fact humor was your first response, too, it makes the sting of ripping the stitches off a still-healing wound hurt just a little less. 

“Yeah, I guess so. Still kinda wish I had a dad, though, ya know?” 

“You can borrow my dad whenever you want. As long as you don’t mind super embarrassing, stupid jokes.” 

“Are they as bad as mine?” 

“No. They’re worse.” 

Neither of you would have minded staying just a little bit longer, but the bright reds and yellows of the setting October sky remind you both that the parents you’ve opened up about are expecting you back before night washes over the quaint suburbia of your town. The bike ride home is much quieter than the one there, but the simple silence seems to speak louder than anything he’d have to say. 

The next day, Frankie would raid the cabinets of his kitchen for every last packet of jello he could find and bring them all to your front door.

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

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@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[yumeka-sxf]

New chapter today, and even though most of it seemed to continue the silly tone from the previous one, the last few pages actually shocked me! 👀

For the first time, ANYA CONFESSED TO SOMEONE THAT SHE CAN READ MINDS! Now this doesn't necessarily mean anything crazy will happen in the series from now on, since Damian doesn't believe her (at first). But proving that you can read minds is easy to do, so the question now becomes, will Anya keep trying to prove it to Damian until he believes her? Or will she regret it later and not try to prove it, and then the plot point isn't touched on again? Regardless, this chapter definitely makes it seem like Damian will be the first person to know about her mind-reading powers.

Then there's the question of why Anya chose to confess this to Damian? I think it's a combination of a few reasons, the main one being that Damian doesn't have any connection to her family, so little risk of him telling them and thus bringing about the fear of abandonment Anya has should they find out. This might also be why she chose to tell him over Becky, since Becky already has somewhat of a relationship with Loid and Yor. The other reason could be that, as time has gone on, she's learned to trust him, at least when it comes to something like this. As hostile as he is towards her, she knows that he's not a double-crosser or a blabbermouth, and deep down he wants to do what's right. And lastly, it was the heat of a moment - her knowledge about him seemed weird so he questioned it, and perhaps at that highlighted moment, when Damian was being genuinely nice to her (since she can read minds, she knows if he's being genuine or not), she wanted to try not lying for once, just to see what happens.

Guess we'll have to wait until next time to see if anything ground-breaking comes from this...will Anya keep pursuing this, will she regret it and let Damian continue to not believe her, or will it just not be mentioned again until later? This reminded me a bit of the Mole Hunt arc where Yuri became suspicious of Loid, but the latter was able to throw him off the track. But the seed of suspicious was planted nonetheless. In this case, even if Damian continues to think Anya was lying, a seed of suspicion may have been planted in him too that could come into play much later on. We'll see!

But besides this big event, a few other notable things in this chapter was super rare soft Damian from the above page. This continues to prove what I've always thought - that Damian acts the way he does to appear "proper" in front of his peers, but when he's alone with Anya, his real feelings seep out. She's a rare person where he doesn't feel the need to put on airs around.

We also got more Henderson x Martha crumbs. Love to see it.

Also loved to see Anya getting cocky and Loid freaking out about it 😅

Overall, even though I'm not as into Damianya as I am Twiyor, I still enjoy seeing their progress, and this chapter was definitely one of the most Damianya-chapters of all~ Despite some of the "dance with Damian" challenges being a bit too silly for my taste (like, how did Emile and Ewen organize all that last minute?) the payoff at the end was worth it! Loid and Yor better get themselves together or their daughter will end up beating them in the romance department 😂

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 10)

summary: with your trainer's help this last week, you slowly find your way back to yourself again... and you finally have the courage to tell hugh more details about your relationship with jack and it only makes him angrier. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: angst - mentions of toxic relationship, verbal / physical abuse (not with hugh!). implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 2.4k a/n: anyway, we're getting into the reader's backstory with jack, so it's going to be a bit dark... and consider this the first argument between reader and hugh... gonna be a tough next couple of chapters, but trust me when i say there will be a happy ending at the end of all of this! as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

You’d taken today off to drop your trainer off at the airport. This last week had gone too fast and while it was emotionally and mentally exhausting, it was just what you needed to remind yourself just how far you’d come. There’s still something lingering in the pit of your stomach, the anxiety that you’ll need to have a conversation with Hugh about everything that’s happened with you and Jack. He knows bits and pieces that you’ve shared before, but he doesn’t know the full picture. 

“You gonna be okay?” she asks. 

“I think so,” you nod. “I can’t let Jack run my life anymore.”

Your trainer pulls you into a hug, holding you tight. “You’re a good person,” she whispers. “And you never should have gone through what you did. He should have never put you through that.” 

You can feel tears stinging your eyes as you wrap your arms around her as well. She had been a godsend and so important in your journey in finding yourself again. She empowered you, motivated you, and helped you see just how worthy you are. 

When she pulls away, she smiles in your direction. “Hugh loves you,” she points out. “Allow yourself to be loved because you’re worthy of it. You’re enough.” 

You nod, wiping any fallen tears from your cheeks. “I just don’t want to disappoint him… What if he realizes that I’m not what he thought I’d be, that maybe all the pain I’m still working through isn’t worth it?”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “You don’t see the way he looks at you, do you?”  

You share your head. 

“Well, that man looks at you like you can do no wrong. Like you’re the only person that matters. Trust me, you are worth it.” 

“Part of me is also nervous… To talk to Hugh and tell him everything. He knows bits and pieces, but…”

“He’ll understand,” she replies. 

“And if he doesn’t?”

“He will.” 

You sigh and then pull her in for another hug. “Thank you for coming here, for being there for me. Again.” 

She lets out a quiet laugh and gives you a tight squeeze before she pulls away. “If Hugh wants to invite me back, let me know. I’d be happy to visit again,” she winks. 

“I’ll let him know. Get home safe.” 

“Remember how far you’ve come, okay?” she says. “And if Jack crosses any lines, it might be time to get the authorities involved.”

You nod in agreement. “I know… I just don’t want it to get to that point.” 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t.” 

—

Later that night, you’re sitting out on the balcony of the hotel room with a notebook on your lap. You had tried to write some talking points to go over when Hugh gets home. You know he’s going to be tired, but you know that if you don’t have this conversation with him, you may never will. 

You know he’s on his way back to the hotel and your heart races faster and faster. You can feel the anxiety course through your veins and even with the notes you had written down, you still don’t feel all that confident. It’s not the fact that you have to tell Hugh what happened, but it’s the fact that you’d have to relive everything that Jack had put you through. 

When you hear the hotel room door open, you stand up and turn to look over your shoulder and make eye contact with Hugh. He looks tired, but at the sight of you, his eyes light up and a broad smile lines his lips. This must be what your trainer was referring to… about the way he looks at you. It eases your nerves, calms you down and keeps you grounded because with Hugh, you have always felt safe. 

He steps out into the balcony with you and pulls you into his arms, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Hi, baby. Missed you on set today.” 

You smile to yourself and shut your notebook, setting it on the chair you were sitting on and away from his line of view. “I missed you too.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, hands playing with the hair at his nape. “How was filming?”

“It was good. Movie’s coming along.” Hugh holds you closer to him, eyes falling shut as he holds you in his arms. This was what he was looking forward to all day. Being with you. He knows that this last week had helped a great deal, having your personal trainer here had helped immensely. You weren’t so much on edge anymore and it felt like things were going back to normal. Before Jack entered the picture. “And how was your day? You get home safe after dropping her off?” 

“Oh yeah,” you nod. “It was nice having her here. Thank you for doing that, baby. You really didn’t need to and–”

“I know,” he says quietly. “But I wanted to. I knew she would help… in ways that I couldn’t.” 

“I love you,” you smile. “I’m really lucky.” 

“I love you too, baby.” He pecks your lips and then slowly pulls away. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and maybe we can order in for dinner?” 

“Wait, Hugh…” 

“Yeah?”

“After your shower, can we talk?” 

Hugh’s brow furrows, biting the inside of his cheek as his hands move to rest on your hips. “What about?” 

“Just…” you bite your lower lip. “It’s nothing bad. I just–” 

Hugh tilts his head to the side. He can sense your worry, your anxiety, so he just nods and leans in to peck your lips lightly. “Okay, baby. We’ll talk after my shower.” As he turns to walk back into the room, you reach out for him and pull him back into a tight hug. Your face buries into his chest, arms tightening around his frame as you hold onto him for a few seconds longer. 

“You sure you’re okay?” he whispers. 

“I will be.” 

—

Hugh’s shower doesn’t last that long. He tries not to overthink about what you wanted to talk about, but he can’t help the tug he feels in the pit of his stomach. Now he’s worried, he’s concerned. He quickly changes into a pair of black sweatpants and a Global Citizen t-shirt. He dries his damp hair with a towel and steps back out into the room, seeing you still outside on the balcony. You’re writing in your notebook again and he knows that you only write when you have something on your mind, something that you can’t shake. 

Quietly, he steps out with you and smiles in your direction. Hugh watches you close your notebook, setting it on the small table. He doesn’t let you get up, instead, he scoops you into his arms and then sits in the same chair with you on his lap. 

“Okay, let’s talk, baby,” he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek as he drapes an arm over your legs. Hugh tries not to make it seem like he’s nervous and he isn’t even sure if you take notice because he can see that your mind has drifted, and can feel the tension in your shoulder blades. 

“Jack–”

“What?” 

You take a deep breath and move an arm around his shoulders. “I need to tell you about– about Jack.”

“Baby, you don’t have to–”

“I need to, Hugh.” 

He can see the tears in your eyes and a piece of his heart breaks at the sight. Hugh cups your cheek and gently brushes his thumb across your skin, leaning in to kiss the tip of your nose. “Okay,” he says softly. “I’m here. I’m listening.”

You nod and bite your lower lip. “So, we were together for three years…” 

“That I knew.” 

“The– The abuse, the manipulation, everything happened so fast. I didn’t even realize what was happening until I realized it was too late.” 

Hugh tightens his jaw. He feels anger bubbling within him, but he opts to remain quiet, to keep a neutral look on his face. He knows that you need this, that you need to tell him and he can’t react because he fears that if he does, you’re going to pull away and he knows how important this is that you’re telling him. 

“I had gotten used to his insults… so much so that I started to believe him.” you’re about to get off his lap, about to pull away from him, but he keeps a firm hold on you. When you look into his eyes, all you can see is the concern in his features and the subtle desire to take your pain away. 

“Oh baby…” Hugh whispers quietly. 

“I’m weak and I’m not brave,” you continue. “And that’s because of Jack. I should have left at the first sign of his verbal abuse, but I always–” you can feel your breath catch in your throat. “I always justified his actions. Always felt like it was my fault, that he was acting the way he was and saying the things he’d say because of me. Because I was making things difficult for him.” 

Hugh tightens his jaw when you look away from him, the anger simmering in the pit of his stomach. 

“And I believed him. I thought– I thought I could give all of my love to him and he’d see how much I cared for him, how much I was willing to do anything for him. Because I did,” you say with a disappointed tone. “I did love him and when he broke up with me – he broke up with me –” you shake your head. “It was my fault. It was always my fault. Mine.” 

“Baby, no…” Hugh shakes his head and cups your cheek, his gaze locked onto yours. 

“I couldn’t even break up with him, Hugh. All of the nasty things he’s said to me and I couldn’t–” you shake your head and stand up from his lap before he can pull you back. “I was heartbroken when Jack broke up with me because he made me believe that no one would ever love me… that I wasn’t worthy of love and I fucking believed him.”

Hugh’s foot taps against the floor incessantly. He wants to reach out for you, but he always wants to find Jack and cause him just the same amount of pain – if not more. But then, he hears the words leave your lips and he jumps up from his chair. 

“He hit me once.”

“What?” 

“Hugh…”

“No no, he what?” 

You bite your lower lip and stare up at him. You can see the anger clear in his features and you gently reach out for him, but he just shakes his head. He’s fuming, hands shaking at his sides at your admission. You know this was going to happen, had even expected this reaction, but seeing it firsthand is entirely different. You don’t know how you can even calm him down. 

“I got angry because he had made me make him dinner after a long fucking day at work and–” you sigh. “After that, I learned how to fight because I knew that if he put his hands on me again, I’d fight back and–” 

“Wait, he hit you? Put his hands on you?”

“Hugh…”

“No, baby.” Tears are now pooling at his eyes. “He doesn’t get to do that, do you hear me? He has no fucking right–”

“Hugh!” you raise your voice, staring up at him. “I’m not telling you this to make you angry. I’m telling you this so you can understand why he had so much control over me, why I reacted the way I did when I saw him that one night at dinner, why it’s so fucking hard for me to see how worthy I am of this, of you.” 

Hugh shakes his head. He’s trying – truly, he’s trying so fucking hard to understand (and there’s a big part of him that does), but all he can see is this man putting his hands on you, putting thoughts and words into your mind that aren’t true. 

“Give me his number. The number he called you from a couple of weeks ago,” Hugh says. 

“No.”

“Baby, he can’t just get away with thinking that what he did to you was okay. He can’t get away with still making you feel the way that you do.”

“What are you going to do? Go and beat him up?” you ask, shaking your head. “Hugh, you’d get arrested! It’d be all over the media and–”

“I don’t care!” Hugh yells – it’s the first time that he’s ever raised his voice at you and when he sees you take a step back, it brings him back to reality. “I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice. I just– I can’t fathom this man walking around thinking like he did no wrong, baby.” 

“Nothing you do will help him see that, Hugh.”

“No? Well he hasn’t dealt with someone like me and–”

“Just stop!” 

Hugh furrows a brow. “Baby–”

“No, Hugh…” you cross your arms over your chest, wanting so badly to just get away from this all, away from Jack, away from Hugh. “I don’t need you to save me… I don’t need you to go back to my past and make things better. I just need you to understand the shit I went through is what made me who I am today. And I’m still healing… I’m still working on it, and I just–” your breath catches in your throat once more. “You’ve been so patient with me, so understanding that I figured I’d at least tell you everything because… because I will have moments where it’ll be hard for me to snap out of it.”

“I know, and I appreciate you telling me all of this, baby–” Hugh sighs. “But I can’t just sit here and not do anything about it.”

“You know what,” you tell him, opening the sliding door to walk back into the hotel room. “I’m gonna go for a walk. I can’t be here right now. This wasn’t how I thought this conversation would go.”

“Baby, no–” Hugh walks after you, watching you pull on a jacket and slip on your shoes as you grab your bag. “Please, just stay. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not mad at you,” you tell him quietly. “I just need some space right now.”

“I love you,” Hugh whispers. 

“I know,” you reply, grabbing the hotel key card and setting it in your bag. “I love you too, Hugh, but I just need to be alone right now. We both need to calm down before we say something we’re both going to regret.” 

You don’t give him a chance to respond because just as his mouth opens to say something, you’re already out the door. 

---

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