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hollyhomburg · 2 months

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Before I Leave You (Pt.73)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: You are everything to Yoongi, the yoke in his egg, the daffodils on the sidewalk, the sunshine in the morning. Everything. He just had to remember it.

Tags: Nightmares, angst, hurt/comfort, mention of food issues but they're only talked about in terms of the m/c getting better.

W/c: 10.0k

A/n: the irony of this chapter is that it's going to come out during the wedding of the two people who live in the house that inspired bily, the last time i was there there where sprouts growing in every windowsill and a fluffy throw on every couch so <3 everything will be alright wont it? the house is filled with love in this universe as well as the bily one <3

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

Downstairs, you and Hobi are shrouded in a particular kind of fuzzy warmth. The kind that only comes from knowing you do not have to be in control anymore. That there is no hidden consequence waiting for you. no shoe to drop. no monster under your bed.

The downstairs is shrouded in that kind of quiet and comfort that comes with warm evenings and supple hands that have nothing to do but loving and set about diligently at that task. Like cold breezes in summer, icing and chocolate, and sunshine on raspberries warming their sugar.

But the upstairs nest room is not so peaceful.

Tae’s post-coitus talks are legendary at this point, as Yoongi sits on the edge of the nest, not looking at her because to look at Tae is to encourage more truth to fall from her lips. He busies himself with tucking jungkook in. Sprawled asleep. And tries not to listen to the truth that Yoongi neither wants nor believes he needs.

Right now his brain is fuzzy and prone to believing her.

There are small things all around the nest, pieces of the pack and remnants and evidence of the time the three of them spent here hours ago taking Jungkook apart and putting him back together again. Fucking then sleeping then waking up to fuck again. The arousal burns low at present, sated for now.

A discarded shirt of Jungkook’s sits tangled in a pair of handcuffs because he’d gotten too squirmy for Tae's liking, a silk scarf of Tae’s because he’d gotten mouthy too. A notepad and a bit of paper. Lines scrawled out because Tae’s post-knot clarity always gives her a few good poems, a few good lines.

Yoongi doesn't have to read them to know they're about you. Almost everything Tae writes has You and Jimin in it. The others are there too every now and then- but if Tae had to say it Yoongi knows you and Jimin are her muses.

It takes Tae a few months to digest her feelings into something palatable. Yoongi didn’t need to ask what time period it was written about as he read over her shoulder, pressing kisses to her lips between the lines. Trying not to be a distraction but wanting to be a distraction worthy of Tae’s attention.

This poem that he'd watched her scrawl out, pen to her lips between stanzas. It has the first few months of your relationship all over it.

I know I over-feed the cat, but I can’t help it. If you could eat the love I have for you what would it taste like? Would it be mangoes- Sticky, yellow, sweet. Eat Till the threads of it get stuck Between your teeth. Would it leave you full and sleepy- like bread and pasta? Rigatoni, Penne, pastina stars The candy toothache of my heart Swells thick and gummy. Eat up. I must admit I grow addicted to the brown sugar of your being. Would my love stain the edge of your smile? Like strawberries? Blueberries? Black? I must admit I am afraid of food metaphors When it comes to you. Because just like with food, I fear if I don’t give you enough You’ll go starving, Out of some sense Of beauty and responsibility. Could you love me enough, Would you love me enough if I’m good? Salt, fat, acid, heat. What is owed at our table- A full meal or half? Desert or just a snack? Just tea please, I’m not hungry. I already ate. I know I overfeed the cat, but I can’t help it- I can’t help it at all. If you would eat the love I have for you, Would you still want to be so skinny? Love is warm bellies and not hollow throats. Love cares not for second portions, Only 8 courses Love is a bowl of soup It warms from the inside out. I know I overfeed the cat.

Noodle purrs nearby, the subject of the conversation earlier today that no doubt inspired Tae. Heaped between a pillow and a rolled-up blanket looking overstuffed- like one of your stuffed animals that litter the nest up here and the one downstairs. Jin had gotten a little overzealous on the jellycat website during christmas time.

He's gotten rather chubby, his middle more round than just fluffy. His pudgy tomcat face is charming, eyes blinking slowly as he watches Yoongi toil with his emotions.

"We should put him on a diet" You'd lamented, still feeding him treats, in the kitchen this afternoon. Yellow light slipped through the windows and lunch plates piled high in the sink. A carton of coffee-caramel ice cream and mango sorbet gathering condensation nearby. On your knees before his bowl. Because if you all got after-lunch ice cream treats then he should get some too.

"Don't you dare, he's perfect this way." Tae had replied, scandalized, and made the point of giving Noodle an extra scoop of food and you an extra spoonful of sweet frozen milk.

Yoongi knows that your comment had stayed on Tae's mind just like he knows that it's not just Noodle you were talking about. How many times has he seen you pull down the edge of your shirt over the past few weeks? Or reach for Hobi's baggier sweatshirts? Or sho them all out the door when you shower intent on doing it alone.

The pack loves group showers, there will probably be one on the way tonight from the sound of it. Yoongi doesn't doubt that the pack will leave you messy and sated. A little too sleepy too. Someone will have to help.

His fingers drum quietly on the bed. Nervous. Waiting. A little annoyed- but Yoongi's not sure where it comes from.

A loud slap from downstairs punctuates the quiet. Yoongi just barely flinches. And Yoongi wonders if you'd let them see you naked tonight or if you'd been too nervous for it. Or if Seokjin and Namjoon will make everything, your anxieties and your fears and your feelings of inadequacy, feel small.

They'll make you feel small too. Omegaspace is all but a guarantee tonight.

But he's not allowed downstairs to double-check that you're alright. (He is, he's just not sure you even want him downstairs- which is another thing entirely. Would his presence make you more nervous? More likely to go into appeasement mode because you think that's what he wants?)

Tae has a habit of reminding him when he's being a shithead.

Now Yoongi wishes for Tae’s attention to be elsewhere. On a poem. On Jungkook. On anything. Yoongi has gotten very good at lying to himself over the past few weeks. But somewhere across the lines I’m still angry at her, turned into I should still be angry. He’s not quite sure when that changed. But he knows he's holding onto his anger, that it's growing slippery, but that he's not ready for it to go away.

Yoongi will do anything to keep you, to make you stay. And that’s part of the problem. He's scared of his own capacity for forgiveness. What you might take if he gives you another chance. He's scared that you'll go and take all of him with you.

He's scared- sure, but he's not really angry anymore.

He's just tired- tired of feeling so much, tired of feeling things so intensely. Tired of worrying, of keeping you at arm’s length and wondering if I let you back in now have you learned not to do this again? Or will you just say you’ll change?

Yoongi will always love you- will always be your mate. But he doesn’t want to be sitting and waiting all the time wondering if you’re thinking about leaving again.

You’ve already tried to do that twice; the third time would be the charm.

Jungkook slumbers belly down in the nest, his soft huffs of breath coming frequently and at a steady pace. He’s quite a vision with his rippling back muscles and splayed thighs. With Hickeys on his skin from Yoongi's own mouth where the skin goes soft and dark. Knees apart to limit the soreness he must be feeling from the knot. Covered at the waist but only just so with a thin sheet. The tops of his thighs shiny with cooling slick. Yoongi’s eyes hover on Jungkook as he looks back.

Tae's voice keeps it hush, mindful of Jungkook's sleep schedule but not of the fragileness of Yoongi's heart.

"If you worry you suffer twice. Her leaving and you not forgiving her- isn't the result the same?"

Jungkook's sleeping form will offer him no savior from Tae’s words, he’d say the same thing- they all would. "Do you really want the distance she's been trying to give you Yoongi? Because I really don't think you do"

You've been fucking miserable these last few weeks. Is what she doesn't say but wants too. Yoongi knows it. Can taste the unfinished business on the air in the form of Tae's wilting rose and cinnamon scent. The heady horny edge to it wareing away.

It’s quiet downstairs but it hadn’t always been; between your pleas and Hobi’s growls and then your cries that had made Yoongi gnash his teeth. Sobbing echos that made Yoongi flinch. Distant cries of “m’ sorry m-" and Jin’s joining croon of “good pup, come to daddy, I’ve got you my sweet little thing, I’ve got you.”

But it’s quieting down now. Yoongi can only just hear a little bit of the hushed voices when he strains his ears. He can’t hear you at all when Tae’s talking.

Jungkook stays asleep, completely lost to the world, He needed two cocks to settle, Jungkook always sleeps for a long time after scenes, even simple cute ones like this. You’re the same. Yoongi knows you’re the same. That you usually doze after cumming, so sleepy- like your body gives up under the force of too much pleasure. And that even awake you’re pliant and drowsy. (He loves it when you get that way).

You’ll never have to worry about insomnia the way that Tae and Yoongi do. If it ever gets too bad, the pack will only ever fuck you to bed.

Which is why Yoongi’s restless, why he can’t sleep. Because you’re downstairs and not upstairs with him. He can pretend that's not why he's awake, but the truth remains. Eviscerated by Tae's pouting lips.

He heard you crying earlier. Coupled with Hobi’s yelps and Namjoon’s low croon. It was hard- harder than Yoongi expected, to resist the urge to go down to you. Grating, the mental equivalent of nails on a chalkboard to tune out the sounds of his mate in distress.

It's not distress, he knows that- logically Yoongi knows that the pack would never do anything you didn't consent to.

And still…

"That's not it Tae, that's not it at all." Yoongi denies, but the lie is blatant even to his own lips.

Yoongi is harder to settle than Jungkook. Tae knows this. Folded against the nest, her silky lavender dress pulled back on after fucking Jungkook, small breasts pillowing, hickeys dotting the top of them both faded and not. Some of them are from Jungkook- fresh and pink- but a few might be from you a few days prior.

She snorts, "isn't it? You're both just doing what you think will give you the least amount of pain- instead of actually confronting each other about this. Do you know what I think hyung?”

Just about every packmate has a newfound obsession with Tae’s chest. The tender swelling sensitivity just there. Tae hasn’t gone up a cup size in a few months, she’s a B at best- but the pack still praises her for it. Still takes every opportunity to make her blush and show her their appreciation.

But still- sometimes Yoongi catches her in the mornings, putting on her lingerie that she wears under her clothes almost every days-tugging at the gaping in the front. She bought stuff a cup size up at the beginning- so did Namjoon and Jin and Jimin, endless pretty sets from for love and lemons and Victoria’s Secret that sit unworn.

Because they don’t fit- might not ever fit. Unless Tae does something drastic like surgery. Yoongi's surprised she hasn't asked for it yet.

Yoongi sighs, frustrated, “What Tae, what do you want to say?”

Tae flips over on her tummy, hair a little messy, grinning looking a bit like Noodle as she strokes gently down Yoongi’s jaw. He’s not wearing a shirt he just tugged on pajama pants so the scratch of her long nails down his skin makes goosebumps erupt all over his bare arms.

“I think punishing yourself isn’t a way to rewrite history. Punishing yourself isn’t going to make what happened go away. At this point- I think you’re keeping yourself away from her to prove a point- but the points already been proven.”

“That’s not it,” Yoongi says again. Like repeating it will make it true. Tae raises an eyebrow at him, swishing her legs, her white painted toenails flashing in the half-darkness.

“Don’t you want to make her see that it was a bad decision, isn’t that what you’re doing? Punishing her for going and punishing yourself for not being there when she made the choice to go?”

As if on cue Yoongi can hear it from the ground floor, the sound of your babbling giggles- you in omegaspace surely, a softly crooned “Good puppy, give him another treat, he’s earned it.” From Jin. Yoongi knows you’re cute and sweet and sensitive in your headspace downstairs, the idea of seeing you- touching you- without the burden of all this- is so tempting Yoongi’s hands hurt.

Yoongi’s hands tighten around Jungkook's elbow, his anchor, preventing him from going downstairs. When Yoongi turns back to look at Tae, her eyebrows are pulled together and she’s looking down at Jungkookie. He has a single hand tangled in the hem of her nightdress, fist closed, chubby and cute.

“What are you thinking?” Yoongi is always in the habit of asking that. It’s worth asking- so that you don’t have to wonder.

“You remind me of myself before I came out. Denying yourself love just because you want to be right- doesn’t make you right, it just makes you less loved.” Her eyes flick from Jungkook up to Yoongi.

Yoongi's hands are cold, the goosebumps on his arms are still there.

Yoongi is not human without your love. How many afternoons has Tae seen him staring off into space? How many more meals will Yoongi push around the food on his plate? How many mornings will his hair go unbrushed because Yoongi simply doesn't have the energy to brush it? Tae and the others make up for it a good deal, but at the end of the day, none of them are the person who Yoongi bonded his soul too.

Tae knows what sadness looks like, what depression looks like and she's learned a lot from you. She won't let this be more than a little blip in Yoongi's year.

Your love is one of the things that makes Yoongi feel human. Without you to love, and feeling like he shouldn't, Yoongi's a little unmoored, a little without purpose.

Tae detangles Jungkook’s fist from her dress gently, replacing his grip with a nearby item- another one of her dresses that the omega had so diligently woven into the outer rim of the nest. He curls around it protectively, purring gently. She covers him with a different thicker blanket to simulate her warmth. Then she sits up on her knees and starts to shuffle to the edge of the nest.

“Come on,”

“But Jungkook-”

“He’ll be fine for a second hyung.”

Tae hasn’t yet conditioned herself out of using that phrase, hyung. And Yoongi might remind her if it didn’t sound so sweet coming from her mouth. More of a pet name than anything else. Yoongi doesn’t mind. She can still call him hyung if she wants. They’ve had conversations about it before.

Tae stops, and turns back. The language thing- is one of her current fixations at the moment. “It’s not- just because that slips out doesn’t mean I’m not still a girl."

“I know baby. I’d never think that unless you told me- not that you’ve got to- not that-“

“No, I know. Thank you hyung.” Tae's teeth worry away at her lower lip.

“You can use Oppa too you know. If that feels nicer, or you can go back and forth and use both.”

“I know, I don’t know why I don’t like it as much, hyung makes me feel like you’ll always look after me.” Yoongi grabs Tae’s hands, tangled in the sheets, silken, pink.

“You know I always will.”

Tae uses that hand to her advantage. Pulling him up and out of the nest. Tae leads him down the dark stairs, her quiet giggles softening Yoongi’s anxiety, but when he gets down there, you're there.

You're small in Namjoon's lap, resting your cheek against the hollow of his throat. The pack alpha's shirt is completely unbuttoned now and you’ve hidden your face in his honey skin, rubbing your face all in it, cheeks pink and slowly purring. Guarding your eyes from the big light in the kitchen- where Jimin is getting Hobi a glass of water. Pants pulled on just barely, still hanging low. The scar on his shoulder pink and catching the light- just barely healing. Big on the back side and small on the front.

Yoongi just barely hears namjoons low and sweet growls, his sweet nothings. The way he cradles you gently but so fiercely to his chest Yoongi knows it's all instinct.

"I'm never gonna let anything happen to you- never again- I've got you pup, I've got you. "

The shirt you wear is big and dark, he knows already that it's his- probably pilfered from downstairs to comfort you. Yoongi's not really sure why that makes his throat close up. Even around all of them, even after all of that. It's still his scent you ask for. The one that cloaks you and covers you in the wake of this.

It hurts a little bit more than it should that Namjoon freezes when he sees Yoongi standing on the steps. Freezes, arms tightening just a little around you as you continue to nuzzle into the pack alpha's throat, Dozing and lost in the haze of aftercare.

His arms relax when Namjoon sees it's just the two of them, and tae floats over, dress swishing. "Oh alpha- did you make her all small and soft for me?"

Namjoons teeth look extra sharp as he beholds tae, as she strokes down his throat. To have another alpha touch him there should feel threatening, but Namjoon just feels satisfied. "Of course I did babygirl."

Hobi is more awake than you but so much further down in puppy space than Yoongi expected. The collar jingles faintly against his throat where he rolls his tongue lolling out. Belly up on the carpet and clearly enjoying Jin’s nails scrapping and petting and scratching over his tummy. Never too tired for more belly rubs, especially with a full stomach full of good pup treats (they're just dog bone-shaped chocolate chip cookies, a special all-organic kind that Jin buys from Etsy explicitly for this).

He’s shy- Hobi hasn’t had the time to indulge in puppy space in months, but now he tucks his face under Jin’s shirt and squirms. Happy to be on the receiving end of the pack Omega’s undivided attention. “Good puppy- what a good boy-“ Jin croons, eyes glassy and dark, biting his lip as he watches Hobi squirm and his tongue lol. Panting animatedly.

He’s needed this too- the sound of his praises fall so easy and natural from his pouted lips. And Hobi stills, ears pink when he looks to Yoongi and Tae in the doorway. Lucid for a breath. Tae’s arms are looped around Yoongi’s hips. Keeping him from slinking off, keeping him from feeling like he’s not wanted.

The pack alpha pears at them over the back of the couch. His arms slowly relax around you, nostrils flaring at the scents coming from both of them but mostly Yoongi. Namjoon looks, and glares, but he can smell it. How upset he really is, the undercurrent to his scent. Yoongi smells like chocolate and worry.

He tips his chin down, a clear command to come here.

“Yoongi wanted to make sure she was alright.” Tae supplies, Yoongi tries to deny it but Namjoon already knows. Namjoon’s grumble growl is warm and inviting as Tae guides Yoongi to sit. Your arms are loose around Namjoon’s neck. He’s quiet, but his eyes are shiny with alpha space, measuring every one of their movements like the pack alpha might measure threats. Guarding the pup in his arms very diligently.

“She’s tired, fell right off.” jimin says, coming over to stand above the four of you and watch as tae guides yoongi's hand out, to touch your back, to pet up and down gently. Jimin runs his hand over your wet cheek, picking a hair out from between your lips.

“Poor little pup” and Yoongi feels breathless but Namjoon and Tae make room for him to sit close. yoongi doesn't need to be guided to sit close to you, almost sideways in something like a hug. You sag just a little more into him, like you’re relaxed by Yoongi’s presence alone. Letting out soft huffs of breath against Namjoon's chest, tiny purrs start up anew, louder, deeper. Your spine curls at an uncomfortable angle like you can decide between Namjoon's chest and Yoongi's hands.

And then Tae takes both of your wrists, detangling them from Namjoon’s neck, the same moment that Namjoon starts to lift your hips.

Yoongi can’t even say anything, can’t even protest as they put you in his lap. You suction to his front like a starfish sinking deeper into dreamland and going more boneless by the breath. Yoongi starts to say something- nothing more than hollow protests.

But it feels so good to have you hear, settled over his lap. So good his breath hitches.

Your hands tangle in the front of his shirt, holding on tight- like you think he might go even in your sleep. Yoongi knows you feel that he’s here- although you might not remember it tomorrow. Maybe that's for the better.

he hesitates for a second, and then pulls you flush against him, hard.

Tae settles behind him and namjoon behind you. His big hands forcing the collar of his shirt to the side so the pack alpha can lean around you and nuzzle into the hollow of his throat. He barely has enough energy in him to open his mouth.

How lucky you and him are to have 6 people to watch over you like this. To make sure that you wake up safe, that you get everything you need before you drift off. Yoongi doesn’t have to do it on his own anymore. He hasn’t had to in months but that still doesn’t lose its novelty. Yoongi wonders if he’ll ever take it for granted.

Yoongi breathes deep and even.

“Thanks, Tae.”

“Of course, honey. Remember for next time- alpha knows best.” Yoongi’s cheek rests against the top of your head, and your breath tickles his neck.

“I know we’ve got to go upstairs, but can we stay like this for a second?” “Of course, honey.” Her fingers stroke through his hair, and Yoongi closes his eyes and tucks his face into the top of your head. One cuddle can't hurt. He can go back to being angry with you in the morning.

“You’ll stay like that until Alpha says you can get up.”

Tae’s giggle is sweet, Yoongi’s eyes are already closed, “Joonie-“

He can hear Namjoon's bashfulness in his voice, the kind of shyness that warms yoongi up from the inside out and reminds him that they're all still learning. “Sorry, I’m still- it’s still-”

“I know alpha.”

I know I know I know.

~-~

(Yoongi, a few days later)

(In the end, forgiveness is not something that is inevitable)

Yoongi doesn’t know that it’s a dream while it’s happening.

One moment he is entirely unaware, resting, asleep, at peace. And the next the nightmare climbs up the edge of his vision. Clinging to the darkness- dissolving like mist only in reverse. Like smoke sucked through a straw. Like burning- carving from the outside in, hungry and without purpose. Burning burning burning.

One moment nothing and the next there is so much red.

The first thing Yoongi knows is that he can smell something burning, he looks up and he’s in the living room of your house, no furniture yet. The inside is so white but not perfect- he can vaguely place the memory.

This is the way the house looked just after they finished re-plastering; Yoongi files the memory and finds its from months and months ago- during another spring. The floors are all fucked from the mess that the plasterers had left. White splotches here and there. Everything covered in ghostly white sheets, a drop cloth under Yoongi's knees that slowly bleeds red.

It's about a month before the pack came home maybe. The last month it was ever you and Yoongi and not You and Yoongi and everyone else.

Yoongi watches as the Flames lick at the white walls. There is something in his hands but he can't look down yet. Something- his brain doesn't want to look at it- it's easier to look at the flames. The fire is yellow and slow to hunger. Creeping almost lazily, like it has nothing but time to burn. He can do little more than watch, not too scared, just confused, as all of the hours and minutes of his hard work are eaten up by heat.

The fire comes from everywhere and nowhere- leaking silently up the walls, turning the plaster slowly from gold to brown, then black before it crumbles away into ashes. Slowly chewing away at the walls, and the windows. The doorknob rattles and somewhere close by Noodle yowls and scratches at something.

The next thing Yoongi knows is that you’re very very still. You’re not moving at all. Not even a little bit- those pupish twitches of your fingers or the wiggle of your nose when you scent his displeasure. Nothing. None of it.

Yoongi is holding you, you are so small, so fragile in his arms. Lighter than you are in reality as he shakes you and tries to get you to wake up. You smile in your sleep a lot, but you aren’t smiling now. The mating mark is blackened against your throat, a thin trail of black and red that rims your lips, bleeding down the corner of your mouth. Inky dark one second, bright crimson the next as a bit of blood drips down the side of your face.

There is so much blood. It's wet and it's cold despite the fire.

He calls your name, and you don't answer. Yoongi's own voice sounds muffled, Warbled. He keeps talking. Unsure what he's saying. He shouts and screams. But his voice never gets louder, you never wake up. He yells as loud as he can and you still don’t wake up.

It comes all at once, just like the fire.

There is blood on your throat too, so much it can't just be from your mouth. Bright and ruby, slipping down your collar bones and the hallow of your chest. Welling out from somewhere- somewhere that Yoongi can't see. Where are you hurt? Where is it coming from? Yoongi can't find the cause of the bleeding.

There is blood on your arms- trailing to the hallow of your elbow, between your legs, soaking through the white of his shirt, heavy and sticky and warm. Yoongi feels like he's suffocating. Yoongi searches for the source of the bleeding, fingers ruddy, soaking into his palms and his knuckles. Frantic as he tugs the hem of your shirt soaked through. The shorts at your hips- all red.

There is so much of it, so much of it that it pools around the two of you on the floor, slow and lazily, almost taunting Yoongi- just like the flames. Yoongi can do little more but watch you bleed out and hold you through it. Hold you as you die. Watch the red swallow you until there's nothing left of you. Just blood-soaked clothing. His breath hitches, suddenly painful in his lungs and his voice comes all at once. So loud it hurts him.

“Namjoon- please- someone help me- someone-”

Yoongi wakes in the nest completely alone. Jerking up so fast that it makes him dizzy. He's too warm. Hot and balmy. Sweat soaks the front of his shirt.

He pushes himself up in the empty nest on shaking hands. Blinking, looking around at the folded blankets, the pillows at the rim of the nook, the absence of any other living soul here.

(that's not entirely true, Noodle is perched on a nearby pillow purring loudly. That's as much comfort as he can possibly offer as he's sworn to hate his arch-nemesis for eternity. Even though Yoongi sort of gives the best chin rubs- although Noodle would never confess it and will take the secret to his grave).

The high ceilings are dark and hollow, the whole room drenched in that half twilight of closed drapes. Empty even though Yoongi looks- searching for his packmates, searching for anything to make his chest feel not so tight.

Noodle purrs loudly and blinks slow.

The Christmas lights have been turned off- probably to help him sleep. The light streaming through the cracks in the curtains is dissonant. But the room is quiet and cluttered- Hobi’s monstera looks freshly misted in the corner, and humidity clings to the windows and skylight up high.

Yoongi pulls himself up and heaves out a shaky breath. Chest tight. You- he needs to find you. Find you and make sure- make sure you're not- Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. A dream, that's all it was. Just a dream. But part of him can't believe it. What if it wasn't?

It’s still hard to tell. The panic won’t leave his lungs. At the front of his nose is the scent of burning things- and that is very very real.

It looks like the omega’s piled the blankets around him, a smaller ring of fluffy blankets to keep the last slumbering packmate safe from outside eyes. But with so many blankets- Yoongi has overheated. He's sweaty and sticky and gross feeling. He should probably shower before he goes downstairs, probably, but-

He needs to make sure you're alright, right now- before he falls apart. Noodle mewls lightly and pulls himself over to Yoongi, pushing up against his trembling fingers, licking at them until Yoongi scratches his chin.

It takes him a second, staring down at his sweat-soaked shirt- to distinguish that it is not blood, blinking and mistaking the light behind his eyes for red.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything and doesn’t call out for anyone. Can’t do anything but detangle himself from the mess of blankets and Noodle and follow the smell of burning things down down down the stairs. Feeling like a ghost with a bad taste in his mouth. A vague pressure behind his eyes and a numbness in his arms and hands from lying on them for so long. His blood circulates slowly and sluggishly.

You are standing on a kitchen stool when he skitters to a stop on bare feet at the bottom of the stairs.

Yoongi has to blink a few times to make sure he's not dreaming, that the walls are the same light pink color they always were. Not brick red but not creamy plaster white- off color like the flush at your cheeks.

The sweater you wear is Hobi's- extra big especially at the wrists, pulling down all the way to your elbow as you reach up to stop the beeping from the smoke alarm with a wave of a newspaper. Nose wrinkled at the smell of smoke. You don't have the crusties at your eyes and your skin is glossy. Seokjin probably did your skincare routine for you as the pack omega is prone to do with so much extra time for fussing these days.

There is no one else in the house but you. The top layer of the air in the kitchen is cloudy with smoke. Yoongi watches you and scrubs a hand over his face. You do not turn and look at Yoongi in the doorway, although you know it’s him just because you can sense when your mate comes close, either scenting him on the air or through the dull pulse of the mating park.

Your sense of smell has been getting a little bit better recently. Yoongi knows better than to chalk it up to your weight gain but your health checkup earlier this week had been a lot more promising than the one before. Yoongi had gone to the appointment with you, and you’d perked up almost immediately when you realized he wasn’t going to give you the distant silent treatment again, all but skipping into the exam room.

He’d even let you hold his hand while they took your blood. He’s never had the heart to leave you scared. Never. Not even when he's angry at you.

Your hormones are leveling out, although there are no signs of you going into heat yet. Another 3 months of no change and you've promised Namjoon to at least talk about hormone therapies.

Tae had reassured you that it wasn't so bad with a kiss on your forehead and a hand at your hip. Covering the place where you, like Tae, might one day receive the weekly injections by Namjoon's hands.

It’s daunting. The idea of sitting through the same kind of treatment that Tae gets; the clink of the glass bottles on the counter, the pearly sound of glass hitting tile. The cold swipe of a swab and the press of a needle.

Namjoon’s always gentle.

You'd be inclined to just leave it alone- but your doctor had been very insistent, something about possible fertility issues if you want to have pups one day. It’s hard to get pregnant outside of a heat, nearly impossible. This isn't an issue that can be just pushed under the rug if pups are something you want to have with the pack someday.

Namjoon and Tae had perked up a little when the idea of pups had been broached. But Yoongi had remained at the fringes of the room- silent. Yoongi thinks about your scent changing the same way Tae's did- how it went from cinnamon and pepper to cinnamon and roses.

He'd never tell her because Yoongi would never want to make Tae feel self-conscious about her own much-needed changes, but he doesn't like the idea of your scent changing the same way.

Deep down Yoongi wonders if you’d want to have pups if it wasn’t what the pack wanted. He’s not sure he’d be able to handle it, a little bundle of you and him and the whole big fucking world with all its wicked people. Yoongi knows peace now but still doesn't trust it. Wouldn't trust it especially if it was just him and you and a little life- so unprotected and vulnerable.

Yoongi doesn’t like feeling this way; vulnerable.

He breathes in a deep breath of your scent, warm and sweet and slightly smooth, not frazzled or scared sour (the way he first knew your scent to be, back before he even knew that you smelled like cake and not rain). You smell completely unaffected, unworried, and unharmed. You don't smell at all like you would have in Yoongi's dream. You don't smell like you're dying.

So why is his heart still beating out of his chest?

He crosses the kitchen in a few shakey strides, just as you start to speak. “Hobi made pancakes but Jin and him started making out and they like totally forgot about them! So they’re out getting breakfast sandwiches, I didn’t wanna wake you so I just got you-”

Your voice cuts off abruptly as Yoongi lines his face up with your spine and plants his nose there, breathing in your scent once, then again shaky. Nuzzling into your lower back. Arms around your waist, gripping your hips.

You make a little noise, questioning, looking down at him with a mixture of shock and concern. and you should be shocked and concerned- it's been nearly a month since your mate hugged you- let alone clutched you to his chest like this. It’s roughly the same sound that Noodle makes when you wake him up with pets.

He holds around your waist as you stand on the ladder, three feet up. His hands tangle with the fabric at your hips. he blinks looking down and away, at the floor.

“Yoongi!? What’s wrong?”

Dimly, he's aware that he’s supposed to be angry at you. He flushes, the blood hot and pink at his cheeks. You’re not supposed to be speaking really- at least not about things that matter and to be fair- Yoongi cannot speak right now. Burying his face in your back until the feeling of your blood on his hands is a distant memory. Feeling the warmth of your skin until the idea of you cold and still no longer bothers him.

Not a memory- a dream. Not a memory. He has to remind himself a second time. Remind himself enough that by the time he doesn't belive it the space to answer your question comes and goes.

Your eyebrows lower and you set a hand on his head, threading routinely into his hair- long, shaggy and dark. And he pushes further into your skin and into your touch the same way plants press into sunlight.

Yoongi is so tired of being angry, he's so tired of being scared. Your hand touches his cheek and his eyes flutter. Lips parting. Namjoon cuddled him just last night- but Yoongi will always be touch starved just for you.

Your breath hitches, "Oh Yoongi."

his arms tighten around you, like he's worried you're going to slip through his arms like smoke. "Bad dream?" You ask, it's a state that you are only too familiar with as he hums non-committal. you turn around halfway so that you can put your hands on his shoulders and touch him. Yoongi almost wants to keen at the contact, almost wants to tell you he likes it too much- which would be embarrassing. He nods against your back.

He missed this, missed this A lot. He missed you. Yoongi's eyes are itchy.

This is the first time he’s held you since you almost left, besides that moment in the car when you were both so angry and so broken it hardly mattered. Yoongi swallows, and he still can’t speak when he tries. Hiding his face in your spine, your hip when you turn, back hugging you because even on a ladder he is still mostly taller than you. Shaking faintly, still shaking off the fucking dream.

His voice is croaky, not all there when his voice box finally cooperates. “Can you get off?"

You get down from the stepstool instantly. His hands tangle in the side of your shirt to steady you. Unwilling to go more than a few inches from you. You're always so wobbly in the mornings before you've eaten and Yoongi is ever mindful.

The sweater you wear has a small doodled bunch of flowers on the front, a botanical print. Yoongi thinks he remembers if vaguely- from a trip Hobi and Namjoon took to the botanical garden a few years ago. It's got holes in the arms like Hobi has snagged it one too many times on rose bushes. Yoongi threads his fingers through them and holds on.

You stare up at him from the floor like you’re waiting for his instruction. Eyes wide and glassy and pretty and alive.

Yoongi stills, breath hitching- at the sight of a bit of red on your lips.

It's off to the side, on your bottom lip almost hidden by where your smile sits. Yoongi's face crumples a little at the sight of it.

Yoongi reaches up with shaking hands to touch it, wiping it away. You follow his hand. He looks down at the smudge on his finger. The little bit of red.

“Oh! That was from Tae she-" You break off when he pulls you back to him, crushing you to his chest. And you surely can’t know what’s going wrong or what Yoongi’s just dreamed but you let him man handle you regardless.

He's sort of glad that no one else is home, that it's just you and him here for a few moments. The quiet of the house is all encompassing- beyond the sound of wind sneaking under the windowsills and the pitter-patter of the drizzle outside. Noodle meows dolefully from the stairs, coming to see why Yoongi had abandoned him so abruptly (the nerve of him.)

Yoongi rests his full weight on you, crushing you to his chest. You push his hair back away from his face, and Yoongi keeps his eyes closed like that will keep the feeling here for longer. Like he's worried if he opens his eyes the nightmare will be here again.

Your hands, his face, small fingers that push at the wetness that he doesn’t name dripping under his eyes. His breath comes out in short little gasps.

There is rain outside, pattering against the window. It’s been raining a lot over the last few days. Soaking the soil in the pre-spring cold. It won't be long now and everything will be green again. Hobi will plant the window boxes, and you'll be able to put the ferns out. You and Tae will start wearing your matching dresses all the time and it will become Yoongi's job to cut the watermelon because he's the only one in the house trusted besides Jin with the big knives. He'll cut up orange slices and peaches and strawberries too. Everything for his loves and their hungry mouths and hungry hearts.

Soon but not yet. Spring and summer are just around the corner but they're not here yet and yoongi is painfully aware of that.

You don’t ask him why he’s crying; you don’t look him in the eyes when he opens them, just continue your careful petting through his hair, eyes flickering up, then down and away. The twist of your lips is guilty.

You are not bleeding; you are alive and Yoongi cannot stand it. The weight of memories he didn’t live weighs on him, still memories. He breathes out a shaky breath. And double-checks his fingers are absent of blood after he rubs over your throat. Checking.

You pull at him, hands on his shoulders. “Come on-“

You pull him through the quiet halls, and into the room at the very back of the house. Noodle follows too with a jingle of his purple bell collar.

The windows here are cracked to let in the chilly spring air- pushing out the last mustyness of winder and bringing with it the smell of rain. The nesting nook is dark and cozy-tempting; but full of stuffed animals and extra nesting pillows that you scoop out of the interior and put on the floor with such care. Lining them up against the outside of the nook. All to make room for him.

Yoongi holds onto the hem of your sweater, rubbing a fist against his eye. Like a clingy child. But he has to let you go when you turn. he can feel the pout on his face and you reach up to smooth it out. You only pause for a second, briefly, “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Yoongi shakes his head, still wordless, unable to make his mouth cooperate. You don’t say anything, you don’t do anything but pull him into the warm dark quiet of the nesting nook.

Yoongi hasn’t spent so much time with you in here, but it’s surprisingly well-ventilated, the woven fabric sides of it dark but breathable. There’s not a lot of room but you make it work. Scooting back and pulling him down and down and down.

You pull him to rest against your chest, between your legs. Your hips splayed to let him curl up and nuzzle into you- in something like a full-body hug. Yoongi is too tired and too shaky to protest. He can’t even say he doesn’t want to but you check anyway- your movements slow as you get him situated.

Your heartbeat thuds quick against his fingertips. Yoongi wants to tell you that you don’t need to be scared, you don’t need to be afraid of overstepping. But can’t make his mouth cooperate.

His arms loosely circle around your waist, and then harder to crush you against him. At this position, you have full reign to run your fingers through his hair, over his shoulders, and down and up again. He knows he smells sweaty and probably rancid. But he nuzzles into your skin at the low neckline of the sweater. He puts his ear against your heart. Thud thud thud. Slowing down and evening out. You're right here and just under him, safe, and his eyelids are so heavy.

“Is this better? Do you need to go back to sleep?” Yoongi nods and doesn’t need to say another word.

Sleep rises up frightfully quick to meet him. He's not at all convinced that he hasn't dreamed it all. Finding you, coming here, and curling up. A dream within a dream. A good one in exchange for the nightmare earlier.

But this time he doesn’t dream at all, and even if he does, it’s only the sound of your heartbeat- thud thud thud. His own heartbeat thins out, and the tenseness in his shoulders relaxes.

Yoongi wakes up because a tomato has just fallen on his face.

You’re trying to be quiet, but Hoseok understandably laughs from where he’s holding out a half-unwrapped breakfast sandwich into the nesting nook for you to take a bite. Yoongi can vaguely place the words just whispered over his head. 'You guys eat without us, I don't want to wake him' 'Okay, but have a bite first- you know they're better when they're warm'

Your laughter shakes against his cheek, your jaw clicks as you chew, and when he picks himself up, the tomato slides down his face, syrup slow. Until it flops against your throat. You and Hobi devolve into louder giggles and Yoongi can't stop the laugh that comes from his chest too.

The ruse is up, and you're all laughing. “Oh my god Hobi you promised to be quiet,”

Hoseok's one knee depresses the side of the nesting nook as he leans. Grinning down at Yoongi. Long fingers splayed around his ribs, making Yoongi shiver. The alpha pulls at his hips, and Yoongi feels a bit like a chew toy but in the best way, to be between the two of you laughing. “Come on Yoon- we’ve got you one too-“

Yoongi lets you both puppet him into the other room. Stumbling between the two of you. Until Hobi ducks low and nuzzles, and Yoongi just resorts to watching the two of you.

The way your hand goes from holding Yoongi's to touching Hobi's palm, then back to his like a bumblebee darting between flowers. A small smile works its way onto Yoongi's face. Even more when you pinch Hobi's ass and Hobi acts appropriately scandalized. Only you could get in on his and Jungkook's near-perpetual ass-touching competition.

(Yoongi's smile grows wider without him even realizing it).

There is a spread on the dining room, three heavy brown paper bags not just of breakfast sandwiches wrapped in checkered paper but biscuits in syrupy gravy, french toast sticks with honey yellow syrup, and a whole tray of tater tots that Jin pops into his mouth with a satisfying crunch. Half of the pack is still in their pajamas; it can't be later than 11.

Namjoon and Jimin are noticeably absent from the table- at work. But Hobi, Jin, and Tae are setting up the plates. Jungkook's already showered from his morning run- his hair all locky and tangled.

Tae looks a vision in a pair of flared yoga pants and Yoongi just blinks at her thighs, not realizing he’s staring until Hobi pinches his thigh for it. You laugh too and pull out the chair next to him with a squeak while Hobi hands out sandwiches and Jungkook cuts them into perfect triangles.

Yoongi blinks down at his plate, and he’s got a quarter of everyone’s sandwich on his, easily more than he can eat but still- You trade, cutting thirds and halves to try them all. Yoongi stares at them and feels fresh wetness on his lash line. Tae notices him staring, and she’s got sesame seeds stuck in what's left of her lipstick when she smiles.

“We didn’t know what you liked- so we got you two.”

And oh, Yoongi can’t breathe. The love in his chest bullies away the oxygen. How lucky he is to have people that get him two sandwiches instead of one, how lucky he is to have a house full of laughter and warm bellies and-

Hobi gets him a cup of coffee, Jin nurses his, thick-rimmed glasses and warm cheeks chubby as he looks across the table at Yoongi like he knows. He leans across the table to tangle their hands while he flips through his phone. Leaving the beta to his overfull heart.

“Tae- your nail appointment isn’t until 1- would you like Jinnie to curl your hair for you?”

“Can we try a new style this time? Space buns?” Tae asks so so sweetly- already wearing lipgloss even though she must have barely left the house. The smile never falters, just spreads wider when he stares at the glossy pink.

Jin hums, happy, "Of course."

"I love you guys" Yoongi whines. looking at Jin because he can't look at you. Telling everyone- because he can't tell just you. And really it's the truth. Jin blinks and looks up at him. A smile spreading on his chubby cheeks.

"Aw- someone's sappy." Hobi teases. "For the record, love you too"

"for the record; He just woke up" You peck the back of Yoongi's neck and shivers erupt all over his body. you lean behind him to swat at Hobi's shoulder. "Give him a break." The sound of chairs scraping hides Yoongi's whine and his blush.

"For the record, Love you too bun,"

Tae snorts, eyebrows knitting together as Jungkook sits on her lap instead of the chair right next to him. "Weird, but I like it" she pauses, "for the record."

Yoongi rolls his eyes, "oh my god stop-"

"For the record; Hobi started it."

"You guys call me bunny and bun all the time- I should be able to use it too!" Jungkook smirks, pausing for dramatic effect. "for the record."

Yoongi groans and you giggle. "Okay I'm done," Yoongi's smiling anyway

You sit, a little clumsy, and your coffee spills a little onto the dark wood table. Jin wipes it up with a tut, eyes still on the schedule. “There’s nothing else much for today just Tae’s appointment. Anyone else want to do anything?”

“Wanna cook together tonight?” You ask, Yoongi pulls your chair over to rest against his properly, he can still pull you over with little effort but it’s getting harder each day.

It’s a good sort of hard. You have half of a sandwich on your plate a quarter of Tae’s and another small corner in your hand half gone already. Yoongi should start working out with Jungkook- so that he’s as strong as you need him to be.

You look at him, and then down at your nearly pressing thighs, “wanted you to be closer to me.” He says, and then cringes, Hobi laughs at him and hits his plate with a metal clink. You just hum and turn back to your breakfast. Yoongi can see the smile in the curve of your cheek, can see it in full when he turns your face to wipe away the sesame seeds stuck to your mouth too.

"Yeah, what do you want to make Jin?"

You talk it through. You and Yoongi and Jin- easily launching into what you'll make, what you'll bake and barter for another night of full bellies and a full house of love. and although it involves a trip to a grocery store, it's easily set into motion.

Hobi asks you if you’ll walk with him to work today, he has to go in a few minutes and it’s not that far of a walk. 10 minutes. Half a mile.

But you say you’ll go only if Yoongi does too and he’s agreeing before he even realizes it. But as far as mornings go, walking Hobi to work and getting to walk home with you isn’t the worst way things could go. Not by far. Neither is the way that you tug his jacked tighter against his throat in the doorway of the flower shop. The roses in the windowsill all yellow.

“I’m really not all that cold.”

“Still, I always want you to be warm”

"I like taking walks after breakfast," you say after another few minutes of walking. Light. Calm. The cold air encourages more pink from your cheeks. The sun streaming through the leafless branches now that the storm has pulled off.

"We can do it tomorrow if you want." Whatever you want.

Maybe you’ll even hold hands (you will, Yoongi will reach for your hand first, and you’ll walk in quiet that isn’t so quiet all turn to you pointing to someone’s porch and the flowers they’ve already put out in their pots. Bright pansies, splotches of color among the springtime drudgery, and the million shades of grey and taupe.

“Do you think we can plant flowers soon?” Yoongi will say maybe, but Hobi will bring a flat of pansies home before either of you can text and ask.

But that will be later. For now, Yoongi just looks at you next to him on the dining room table, thumb rubbing up and down your thigh, forgetting to chew as he looks at you. Forgetting to take a bite of the sandwich slowly falling apart in his hands. The cheese and the egg sliding out. Both yellow, both yummy, both needed.

Yoongi looks at you until Tae reaches over to pinch his thigh and he jumps. The egg in his sandwich slips out, hitting his plate with a slap.

Yoongi smiles, (really, the love is spreading like wildfire, slipping in through the windows like beams of sunlight, moving easily and unabated, like light through air).

“Eat your breakfast hyung- it’s getting cold.” She chirps.

Yoongi gladly complies, hungrier than he's been in years.

(In the end, forgiveness is not something that is inevitable. Forgiveness is something that you want to give, you have to want it with that person and they have to want it too. You have to give.

Yoongi will give and give and give.)

~-~

It happens on one of those evenings:

The nesting room is silent with the sound of sleeping packmates. The long curtains piled on the floor and two sets of bunny slippers sit unattended by the nest entrance because Jungkookie’s toes get cold sometimes and you like to match. His blue and yours pink. The Christmas lights up above are dimmed to a soft moonlit glow, lighting the bodies of your sleeping pack; gentle and heaped like sweet pavlova.

The door at the top of the stairs is open. There’s nothing to keep out tonight; no darkness or bad dreams. Nothing to fight off besides the vague feeling of childlike adventure that you gladly welcome inside. Not the sound of Noodle zooming around downstairs or the creeks of the house that’s almost finished.

Almost, it’s getting there. Yoongi has been working hard.

You and Hobi turn restless tonight. The only ones truly awake. Not with unease or with nightmares- too real and long gone. It’s not the memories of people with silver hair and dishonest smiles that keep you awake. Those villains are for dragons vanquished or papers in ashes that will never rise again to taunt you with their secrets.

There is no tower that you’re trapped in, at least not physically. Even mentally too. Any mental foes or sickness left in the confines of your head can wait until a later date.

Maybe it’s because of the full moon, the pearl bubble of your soul that matches and turns and keeps you awake, restless beneath the pink light. Maybe it’s because you both napped earlier with Yoongi in the nesting pod.

You’ve been doing that a lot more frequently over the last few days, taking little moments with Yoongi; spending breakfast in bed, cooking together most nights, sitting next to him always. Even small dates. Not even fancy ones but silly little outings that make you feel younger than you are.

Trips to his old coffee shop where he met Jin. His and Hobi's old record store, and Hobi's flower shop. Sometimes you leave separately and meet there to make it feel more like a date date. And Yoongi pretends he's surprised by the color of lipstick that Tae chose and you admire the ruffle of his tousled hair (he fussed with it for a few minutes in his car).

You'd never had a chance to date properly the first time.

It makes your relationship feel newer than it is. It makes you feel like you're making an effort instead of just having fun with your mate. It makes you feel like the drips of yellow paint on your sleeve- that had gotten there during the little sip and paint that you did last Thursday.

You'd gotten so giggly on cheap wine that you had to call Namjoon to pick you both up. You’d gotten handsy in the backseat and filled the car with the scent of arousal strong enough that Namjoon’s knuckles had gone white on the steering wheel. Barely a brain cell to scrape together to concentrate on driving.

Or the next day when you’d gotten dolled up just to go to different bakeries and sample cakes, eating them in the car with the windows rolled all the way down and the heat blasting. “This ones so good, have a bite.”

The two of you might be foodies actually, you might have found a shared hobby with it- testing pastries and food. You like the little things like fancy chocolates and fancy teas. It’s going to be your thing- the sweets. You can tell.

But for now, Yoongi sleeps peacefully not far from you as you look over at Hobi, eyes open in the darkness, face upturned, chest rising and falling just a bit too quick for him to be totally asleep. The windows are open and the night air is cool. You can press as close to the others as you want and you won't get too hot. You'd taken full advantage of this hours ago, snug tight under Namjoon's arm. His soft snore a special sort of lullaby.

You haven’t felt this calm in years. It doesn't make you choke up because you've felt this way before and you're getting used to it. The springtime air smells like rain, like the ocean already although you know it sits miles and miles away.

It might be another false spring- but the pack takes what it can get.

The nest is still quiet when you turn to Hobi and find his eyes open and bright in the darkness. Namjoon’s phone on the shelf reads 5:04 am. It's early enough to go back to bed but instead, you scoot over to Hobi when you see he’s awake, gently setting yourself first over Namjoon’s chest and then sliding down his other side to get to him.

Quieting Hobi’s sleepy giggles with an equally sleepy kiss pressed unhurried to his lips. His hands come up loosely to circle your waist, tired, sleepy. Your lips stay pressed for a breath too long. And Hobi shivers at the feeling of your warm skin pressed to his cold cheek.

It’s still dark outside, not even the faintest breath of the sunrise cresting the trees. You lie there on your stomach, looking at him and stroking a hand down his cheek in the darkness. You just watch him until he turns at you. A bright mischievousness in his eyes. A bad idea or a very good one depending on how you look at it- cresting his mind.

“You know if we leave right now, we can probably get to the beach before sunrise.”

Bad ideas are made better when chased with dreams, it’s only been a month since everything went down, and maybe two since this got normal between the two of you. The kissing, the looks, the touching. That’s different, but it's still just you and Hobi.

He's still your best friend.

The softness runs a little deeper now. He'll always understand you a little better, a little more than the others. Although you'll give them a few years to try and catch up. Hoseok's love is a little softer, like a sunrise instead of a sunset. With no bursts of color just dark blue one minute and light blue the next, baby blue to blush tones to that weird yellow green of the sunlight.

You smile into the next kiss, eyes opening wider now, and you know you won't easily go back to sleep. “Yeah? Want to go?”

His kiss already tastes like saltwater. “Yeah, come on.”

Getting out of the nest without rousing your packmates proves to be too much of a challenge. (And really you think Yoongi would have a heart attack if you tried to leave without at least telling him where you've gone. He might have forgiven you, but you know better than to poke at his wounds.)

Namjoon groans while Yoongi blinks away the darkness behind his eyes, a big hand closing around your wrists, stopping you when Hobi’s already off the bed. “Pups? Where are you-”

“Just to the beach Joonie,” Hobi ducks to press a kiss to Namjoon’s forehead the same moment you kiss Yoongi’s lips, puckering in sleep and making a soft sweet noise. Your mate smells so good- rolling waves of sweet chocolate- so good that it has you not wanting to leave at all. You linger, kissing Yoongi again when the temptation becomes too much.

He opens his eyes and grins at you. "Want company?"

“You don't have to, we’ll be careful! Promise.”

"Where you going?"

He blinks back his sleepiness but no sooner have you explained what you're doing than are Yoongi's arms going around your waist to pull you in. Sitting up too at the same time. Careful to keep his voice low to not wake the others.

“Let me come with,” Hobi is already grinning, hair sticking up in the back after he pulls a sweatshirt over his head. Namjoon shimmies to the end of the nest apparently coming too- only to knock into Seokjin because Namjoon is always sort of clumsy in the mornings and he always gets a bit tangled in the blankets you roll up to construct the edge of the nest.

Jin’s plush lips pout, eyes squinting in the darkness, “Guys? What’s-”

Then Jin trips over Jimin's legs and the alpha shoots up straight, jostling both Tae and Jungkook (folded under either arm) and everyone is awake and sharing plans.

You tug on warmer clothes because Jin fusses; fuzzy socks, and thick cable knit sweaters. Jin doesn’t bother to put his contacts in, black-rimmed glasses balancing on his nose. A thick scarf that he won’t really need teasing at his rosy cheeks.

together you guide a soft and sleepy Jk down the stairs. Scrubbing at his eyes all puppy cute while you’re morning zoomy. Barely pausing to kick off your bunny slippers. Jimin gets down to tie Tae’s laces so she doesn’t have to bend over so early in the morning.

By the time you get down to the ground floor of the house, the light is already turning the sky a lighter shade of blue. And Hoseok is pushing everyone out the door, sometimes physically, with cries of “Quick! Before we miss it!”

For once, you don’t take two cars. This time you pile all in Hobi’s red car (thankfully gotten back from the police with all but minimal scratches and a hefty fine that Namjoon had reluctantly paid). You sit on each other's laps, ducking your head whenever you see oncoming cars in case they might be cops. (You haven't learned your lesson quite yet, but there is time- you don't have to grow up quite yet).

Tae sits on Jimin’s lap. Hands wrapped around her middle, talking softly over the color of her nails (yellow with chrome, making them look almost buttery). Jungkook sits on Namjoon's lap (the alpha tucks his face into Jungkook’s hair, a little long, a little shaggy, intent on going back to sleep.) And you sit in the middle seat on Yoongi's (playing with your mate's hands, turning them over and over again in yours, until he squeezes them lacing them through.)

The pack omega gets princess treatment on account of having the longest legs. Feet Crossed daintily on the dashboard where it not for his thick slides. Hobi drives and fucks with the playlist. But he doesn't need one. Leaves it alone for once in favor of listening.

Yoongi laughs and you ask him why he is. "Don't take this the wrong way but your ass is so boney, my leg is going numb."

"See! I told you you should come with me to pilates!"

"I'm no princess-"

"No- that's me." Jin snorts from the front seat.

"Joonie that tickles."

It’s only a 15-minute drive on the windy backroads, not so unsafe. Not so necessary that you’ll think about taking two cars and separating your little bundle of love into two places. Headlights crest the hills of shrub roses and shrub oak trees, leggy and just beginning to leaf out.

How is it nearly spring already? When did winter pass? Yoongi’s arms never release your waist, he keeps you like that, close and safe until you skitter into the parking lot.

Jin leaves his red scarf in the car. It sits there in the backseat, a heap of red thread whining over and over again, giving warmth that’s no longer needed. A string of fate organized and neat.

The parking lot at the beach is empty at this time of year and at this time of day. There is no snow piled up in heaps, only remnants in the forms of shallow silver pools and puddles that you traipse through with little regard to the state of your socks. The ocean air is warm, unseasonably so. You’re a mess of tangled limbs and pajamas. Laughs and- “oh my god I have to pee-”

Yoongi loses one of his slides on the way out and Jungkook steals it from the pavement. Running off with it and leaving him to hobble on one foot, only to bring it back after a second. And you let Yoongi place his hand on your shoulder for balance while he slides his sock back into it. Worried about getting his socks wet. His hair ruffled and eyes crusty but the sun-

The sun is bright and hot against your cheeks, wind whipping picking up your hair as it crests the horizon. You run out to the edge of the ocean, your legs fighting to keep up with Jungkook who's faster than you now that he's fully awake.

Water soaks pajama hems and you tread a little too close to the shore. It's low tide and the sea is far out. Sea spoils dot the wet sand, joining the reflection of the sky up above and the stars winking out one by one as the sky lightens slow.

You’re the first one to lift your hands, to shout and run as fast as you can (which isn’t very fast at all, so it’s a good thing they give you a head start) but the others follow without much preamble. Giggling and rushing to get to the sea in time.

It’s warm- the wind coming off the sea is warm and damp and lovely. Spring is here, happiness is here- and it might never be going away again. Not if you can help it and not if you hold onto it. You have seven other people to help you hold on tight and never let go.

No matter how hard it gets- you’ll hold onto it. You promise. (Promise me okay?)

Jungkook catches up to you first in the warm sunny sand. He picks you up and twirls you round and round. Shaking you a little, the same way that Noodle might shake a toy. You giggle, high and melodic.

You only see it for a second, spinning round and round- but the rest of them Seokjin, Namjoon, Hoseok, Tae, Jimin, Yoongi- they all stop where they’re running and watch. You’re dizzy when Jungkook stops, his grin pressed to your shoulder, arms hard under your shoulders. Clinging to him still- not putting you down because you’re dizzy and he’s still lifting you up.

“Jungkook- oh my god put me down- I’m heavy Koo- ” You’re a little panicked, a little startled, but laughing all the while.

“Not really. I can still carry you.” He tosses you up and catches you- shrieking even though you don’t really leave his hands. Clinging to him, scared of the weightlessness before he sets you down where you teeter, unsteady, dizzy but still laughing.

Your hands stay around his shoulders, on your tippy toes, and he raises his eyebrow at you.

The others catch up and Jimin leans down to squeeze around your middle. Salt air tickles your forehead.“You’re like hardly a work out-“

Yoongi’s teeth worry away at his lower lip, “guys-“

Jimin shows you it’s not a big deal by heaving you up and over his shoulder. leaving you shrieking again.

“Minnie no!”

"Minnie yes"

Jungkook and Jimin take off and Hobi and Yoongi chase them down, you feel a bit like a chew toy but in the best way, in the way that makes your stomach light and crinkly from the giggles and laughter. You end up with your knees in the sand and Jungkook against your stomach. Hobi behind you, hands fighting Jungkook's. wrestling over you until none of you have anymore energy for it. All of you are covered in sand but you're laughing so hard you taste salt.

You end up sitting there, at the edge of the storm line, where the sand goes hard and crusty at your feet but light and fluffy by your hands. You watch the rest of the sunrise like that. The good part. The best part when the colors bleed across the blue horizon line all yellow and gold.

Namjoon holds out a hand for Jin to get down, a bit more dignified than your sprawling mess of pups. And the pack omega leans sideways against Yoongi’s shoulder. Complaining squeakily about the state of his knees.

You settle against the sand. The eight of you curled close to keep out the last bit of cold. Eyes burning as you watch the sunrise and can't tear your eyes away. Until the sky turns that unmatched shade of blue, the kind that is never quite replicated by nature. Not in roses or daisies or in the color of people’s eyes. Everything blue blue blue.

Your sweatshirt is one of Yoongi's, the same color. Tae’s nails are that purple-blue too as she holds Jimin’s hand in the sand. The same color as the tiny piece of sea glass that Hobi pulls from between his legs because he somehow always finds sea glass. The best at finding lost things.

His hand slides around your middle, pulling you to rest firmly against the hollow of his chest. And his other raises to show you the little fleck of sea glass. Balanced on his index finger.

"It's a lucky find," you say. Hoseok hums behind you. Agreeing. Warm.

Later, you look over at him in the bagel shop (because if you’re going to have an early morning outing then it might as well come with breakfast and coffee.) You sit together with Hobi, Waiting for your sandwiches and your lattes.

Namjoon, Yoongi, and Jin sit at one table and bicker over the merits of avocado toast. While Tae, Jimin, and Jungkook take over the other playing some game that involves flicking a quarter over each of their sides and playing footsie under the table too.

Although Namjoon and Jimin will get frustrated and tug all of the red and white metal tables together before long- No one has the mind for it yet. All of you are still sleepy and pupish and young in a way that you haven't been, haven't felt in such a long time.

Growing up can wait for a day more, growing up can always always wait.

(You haven't thought about it at all today- what Geumjae did to you. You haven’t thought about the hurts in your past at all today and you won’t, the day will pass and it won’t weigh on you, you won’t even notice. That’s the way healing goes- you hardly notice)

(Later there will be food and you won’t think about eating it at all. Hoseok will make your sandwich up just the way you like it and you won't even have to ask for it. You'll eat the same way you love, messy like children but with so much hope in it.)

At the bagel shop, You’ll reach over and wipe your thumb across his lips to get some cream cheese off and it will be the first breakfast of many you’ll spend with him. How lovely is it- to get to spend mornings with the people you love? How lovely it is to lose track of the days and hours and kisses. To not count first kisses anymore and only count more.

You and Hobi are quiet where you sit at the metal tables, it’s not an uncomfortable silence, unbroken by ego or arrogance or anything of the sort. He looks over and smiles at you.

And because he asks, “What are you thinking about?” You give him an honest answer.

“Being at the beach like that,” Your hands play with the piece of blue sea glass he got you, your pockets are full of them because you spent a few minutes once the sun was up walking until the others called you back. Hand in hand, stopping only to pick up more.

“With the sunrise and the sunlight all around us, It kinda felt like the world was giving me a really big hug, do you think that’s stupid?”

(Neither you nor Hobi is thinking about what was done to you. Not even a little bit, not even at all. I hope you never think about it either. I hope you get to have days where you don't remember. Where you forget what it was like to need to be strong. May the prey animal part of you that lingers in your body and remembers be turned soft and docile with age. May you forget what it's like to be hunted and afraid. I hope you forget him. The man who hurt you. I hope you forget what he looks like and the sound of his voice. I hope you forget it all.)

“I don’t think that’s stupid at all.”

He pulls his chair over to your side of the table and puts his chair right next to yours so that your thighs can touch. Even though it’s a public place and even though it’s probably not appropriate. He pecks your shoulder and squeezes around your waist extra tight, grinning. It’s an awkward sideways hug but he pulls you as close as he can until it forces a giggle from your stomach. His palms press flat against your stomach and his thumb rubs up and down. Slowly.

“In case you want one more, what’s another hug after all?”

~-~

Notes:

It's a sweet sort of irony, that this chapter is going to be posted when the people who live in the bily house are getting married <3 like what are the odds of that.

i think that this chapter is the real like- spot between the chapter chapters of bily and the epilogue! i think you can kind of feel it in the way that the chapter ends.

it's so like me to accidentally talk about tae's boobs for a few paragraphs i can't help it her tiddies are just so special to me. like 10/10, i saw a picture of dita von tess and just so you know...in my mind after tae gets a boob job- which she will- this is just me forshadowing it- thats the kinda tiddies she gets <3 cute lemon shaped ones!

the line about tae liking hyung more than oppa to use for the other members of the pack- is just kinda edgeing on an idea i've had for a while about my own gender thoughts- and thats that you can take what you like and what you don't like from each gender and make it what you want regardless of how you identify.

it's easy to forget that yoongi is also traumatized too you know? he needs so much hugs in this,

it always hits me how stylistically different i write the characters in bily- like this chapter i feel like i really got to develop yoongi's internal voice like- he's a very even cut of internal monologue, action, and sensation. different than the m/c who tends to be sensation first and then action, and jimin who is all bland sensation, and tae who has a very very strong internal monologue.

In many ways this chapter feels so like- stylistically light- like i think this entire series i've been trying to capture the feelings of found family- and you know-= this one gets alot of it right.

#bts x reader #bts mafia au #bts a/b/o #bts au #bts fluff #bts poly au #bts omegaverse au #bts polyamory au #bts #bts gang au

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satorusdiary · 1 year

Text

bkg headcannons ❤︎︎

Katsuki Bakugou who is harsh with you when you first meet. But once he notices how you don’t push him away, he starts warming up to you more.

Katsuki Bakugou who doesn’t consider you as an extra, instead he considers you has a close friend with a lot of potential for themselves and their future.

Katsuki Bakugou who pays for your food, or brings you home made food he prepared before he left home.

Katsuki Bakugou who secretly blushes and clenches his jaw when you make a silly joke, he shoves you off acting like he’s annoyed. In reality, he is hoping you make more jokes to lighten up his day.

Katsuki Bakugou who welcomes you with open arms when you come to his house late at night, complaining how you were lonely and had a nightmare. He doesn’t a notice how much his heart is beating until he falls asleep with you cuddled against him like a koala.

Katsuki Bakugou who cries in your arms after getting kidnapped, and blaming himself for being the reason for Allmights failure.

Katsuki Bakugou who kisses you on the forehead, and on your nose after you comfort him, noticing your teary eyes after watching him break down.

Katsuki Bakugou who helps you move into your dorm room.

Katsuki Bakugou who confesses to you first. It happened during valentine’s day when you gave him homemade chocolate covered strawberry’s, with small doodles of his hero costume.

Katsuki Bakugou who keeps your relationship a secret for a few weeks, but then gets caught when his classmates see him kissing you on your lips on the couch. You both had thought everyone was gone and made their own plans.

Katsuki Bakugou who threatens anyone who tries to interfere with his relationship.

Katsuki Bakugou who isn’t a fan of PDA, but is willing to have his arm around your waist just for you. And so boys would stop eye-fucking you from a distance.

Katsuki Bakugou who has you pinned on his phone.

Katsuki Bakugou who ruins his sleep schedule, just to help you understand a problem you didn’t understand during class.

Katsuki Bakugou who lets out genuine smiles around you.

Katsuki Bakugou who has hundreds of poloroids of you and him, mainly you in his wallet, behind his phone case, and on his home bedroom walls.

Katsuki Bakugou who is annoyed when his friends tease him about how he acts around you, denying it. Only for you to walk into the room with a cheeky smile, making his annoyed expression soften.

“Bakugou. just admit it! You’re hooked towards y/n.” The blonde boy’s closest friend Kirishima coo’s, poking at his side only for Katsuki to not have a reaction towards it.

After many pokes, Katsuki gets fed up and harshly smacks away Kirishimas finger.

“Shut the fuck up! ‘m not hooked, and stay out me and my girls buisness.” Katsuki grits his teeth, turning away from his group of friends to continue doing homework.

Denki rolls his eyes, letting out an sigh. He puts his hand on his friends shoulder with a bored expression.

“That’s a lie! You were just all up on her a few hours ago in the study room!” Denki exclaims, recalling the memory of him and his friends walking in on you on Katsukis lap whilst reading a book.

This time Katsuki ignores both of his nosey friends, only rolling his eyes and solving the problems in-front of him with no problems.

The group thinks about leaving their angry headed friend alone for the day, until you step in the room with a big smile and a bag full of clothing. Eyes are on you waiting on your move as you walk towards your boyfriend who notices your presence almost immediately.

“Katsuu, what’cha doin?” You coo’ed wrapping your arms around your boyfriend who stops paying attention to his homework for once. His group of friends watching the couple in shock, and in awe. Long forgetton towards him.

“Hey sweets. ‘m doin homework, do ya need help with it?” He questions, the kiss he leaves on your cheek not being hesitantly placed.

You nodded your head. Honestly, you didn’t really need help with homework. The thought of just being around him was what really mattered to you the most.

“mhmm, can you help me now? if it’s okay with you.” You muttered, eyeing the elevator signaling to him that you wanted to go into his dorm room.

Even if it wasn’t allowed, he always made sure you would end up in his dorm room by the end of the day. He is a good boyfriend, isn’t he?

“Yeah, sure baby.” He slightly mumbled the pet name, packing up his stuff and ignoring the protests coming from his friends.

As soon as you both leave and make your way into Katsuki’s dorm room, the group begins giggling and mocking Katsukis past words.

“Oh-Oh! I’m not hooked on y/n! Lay off my relationship blah blah blah!” Mina mimicked , making the other guys laugh at her expressions.

What they didn’t know was that you both didn’t take the elevator, instead you took the stares and was able to hear his friends just before you made it to the second floor.

Katsuki was furious and embarrassed, but with a simple move that you made with holding his hand and rubbing the sole of his fist made him calm down.

“..Fuckers. Never mind them, y’want give me a haul of your clothes first before we do homework n/n?” His expression calmed down and his hand made his way to carry your bags.

Your smile increases and you begin nodding your head furiously from excitement, katsuki chuckles and kisses you on the lips before dragging you to his dorm room.

You never remembered the last time you actually spent a full night in your own dorm without sneaking out to go into Katsukis.

Katsuki Bakugou who spars with you, simply kissing you sweetly if you ever lose to him. Kissing him is better than winning anyways.

Katsuki Bakugou who gets annoyed by his mother who keeps begging him to invite you over to their home again. Mitsuki and Masaru are very excited to meet the angel who is bringing out the softness from their son.

Katsuki Bakugou who cuddles your nightmares away, having a hand tightly wrapped around your waist while the other cradles your cheek. His usually rough voice whispering sweet words into your ears, hoping it is enough to soothe away your nightmares.

Katsuki Bakugou whose life goal was to be the number 1 hero, but also has another goal in marrying you, having kids with you, and growing old with you until forever.

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pedrospatch · 2 years

Text

joel miller masterlist

♡ fic notifs l ao3 ♡

🔥= indicates smut

oneshots & drabbles

not a thing l part ii summary: You and Joel had a private moment while Ellie was asleep. Or so you’d thought she was asleep.

weakness l part ii 🔥 summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s takes an unexpected turn for you and Joel when some feelings start coming to the surface.

we need you summary: Afraid of failing the two of the people he cares about more than anything, Joel decides you and Ellie are better off without him.

jealous summary: You aren’t together, but Joel doesn't want to see you with anyone else.

stay summary: You’re in Jackson with Joel and Ellie after Salt Lake City and the loss of somebody you failed to protect haunts you and leaves you wondering if the wound will ever heal—and how you’ll ever go on if it never does.

what he didn’t do summary: You’re very recently divorced, but that doesn’t stop a certain brown-eyed neighbor from taking you out on a date.

strawberry 🔥 summary: You feel ashamed for using your safe word with Joel during a session—he assures you you’re his good girl no matter what. AU, NO OUTBREAK (TW) DDLG

punishment 🔥 summary: You drag your boyfriend to your best friend’s annual Halloween party and get brave after a couple of drinks—it’s not like Joel’s really going to punish you while all of your friends are under the same roof, right? AU, NO OUTBREAK (TW) DDLG. POSSIBLE DUBCON.

captive 🔥 summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group. TW DARK!JOE. DUBCON.

frosting 🔥 summary: Joel agrees to help you decorate Christmas cookies and things get a little messy. AU, NO OUTBREAK (TW) DDLG

someone to be thankful for 🔥 summary: It’s Thanksgiving—when dinner with your nightmare of a family goes south, you find comfort in the person you least expect it from: your father’s best friend, Joel Miller. AU, NO OUTBREAK, DBF! Joel Miller

series

a safe haven l ongoing l 🔥 summary: When Joel Miller and Ellie Williams return to Jackson, Wyoming to begin their new lives, the last thing Joel expects is to catch the eye of the thriving community’s equine veterinarian. Young, beautiful, and married, Joel knows that he should stay away from a woman like you, but he can’t help but to be drawn to you like a moth to a flame. As you start growing closer to both Joel and Ellie, you find out all about the secrets they both carry—and they find out you’ve been hiding a secret or two of your own.

fall into temptation l completed l 🔥 summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamn preacher’s daughters.

miscellaneous

snapshots l ongoing summary: Moments of Joel Miller’s life in Jackson, Wyoming with his girls.

divider credit @/saradika 🤍

#joel miller masterlist #joel miller x reader

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brittle-doughie · 1 year

Note

I’d like to imagine that y/n is involved in all the adventures going on in kingdom, and considering the previous update, I’d like to see y/n casually dropping that they fought a dragon like it’s normal to their new rockstar friends and them getting instantly worried

bonus if y/n brings snapdragon cookies as proof

[Be you, hanging with Black Lemonade and Bassist Cookie one time, jamming to her tunes when she taps your shoulder.]

Black Lemonade: You know, Y/N Cookie, I’ve heard a lot of talk about you and this Cookie Kingdom you’ve got going on.

Bassist Cookie: Aw yeah! Cookies from many of our gigs have brought you up here and there, quite the big deal.

Y/N Cookie: Well, when you’ve been through and been to places as much as I have, you aren’t really easy to be forgotten about in the eyes of many.

Black Lemonade: What exactly did you do for it to be like this?

Y/N Cookie: Oh boy, it’s a LONG story. Where to begin…

———————————————————————————————————————

Y/N Cookie: Where are you taking me!? You just upped and grabbed my arm out of nowhere!

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Calm down, I’m just borrowing you for a second! I can tell you’re different from those other cookies? I just need a further analysis on you!

Chili Pepper Cookie: Get back here with Y/N Cookie, you little!

Gingerbrave: You let go of Y/N Cookie right now!

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Ugh, so annoying. I’ll give them back when I’m done, promise!

Y/N Cookie: I could just slip away right now…

(Strawberry Crepe Cookie suddenly grabbed you with their large crepe arms!)

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: Not happening, I didn’t even get to have some time with you because of these…basics!

Healer Cookie: Hang on tight, Y/N Cookie! We will do our best to rescue you!

Y/N Cookie: Strawberry Crepe, we can talk about this. Just put me down and we can-

Strawberry Crepe Cookie: I needed to run field tests on these arms anyway, I’d rather they stop functioning all together before I hand you over.

Y/N Cookie: WHAT-

———————————————————————————————————————

Clotted Cream Cookie: Are you ready, Y/N Cookie?

Y/N Cookie: I made sure to pack everything I needed, I am missing some clothes, but I can manage without them.

Clotted Cream Cookie: Good, it won’t be a long stay, so there’s no need for worry.

Financier Cookie: The airship is ready to take flight, Consul.

Clotted Cream Cookie: Shall we, Y/N Cookie?

Y/N Cookie: There’s actually one tiny problem left.

Clotted Cream Cookie: Oh! What would that be?

(Y/N Cookie points to their legs, showing that Pure Vanilla, Hollyberry, and Dark Cacao are holding onto them tight.)

Clotted Cream Cookie: I think I see the problem here…

———————————————————————————————————————

Moonlight Cookie: Ah, no more! Your words hurt like the terror of nightmares. Y/N Cookie, stay close to me.

Y/N Cookie: Moonlight Cookie is right, Stardust Cookie! The Wizards meant no malicious intent, you’re not a failure!

Stardust Cookie: You look particularly fond of this cookie, Moonlight Cookie…what is it about them that you cherish? What is it about them that washes away your sorrow…?

(Moonlight moves more in front of you to block Stardust’s line of sight, Stardust’s attention on you has made her on edge.)

Stardust Cookie: Move aside, Moonlight Cookie. I wish to see them, to see what makes you hold them dear.

Moonlight Cookie: N-no, please. It would bring me pain to see them hurt.

Stardust Cookie: I will not bring them harm, I just want to get a look at them closely. Y/N Cookie, was it? Step forth.

Moonlight Cookie: They do not wish to, please understand-

Stardust Cookie: Allow them to make their own decision, you cannot speak for them.

Y/N Cookie: Leave her be, I’ll do it.

(Moonlight clutched you close in her arms)

Moonlight Cookie: Y/N Cookie..no….

———————————————————————————————————————

Hollyberry Cookie: There they are!

Tarte Tatin Cookie: Y/N Cookie!

(There, sheltering in the cave, was you. You held your stomach as jam was stained on your head as you held it. Your sword laid next to you, claw marks littering the blade. Your breathing was heavy. Hollyberry was FREAKING OUT.)

Hollyberry Cookie: Y/N Cookie please! It’s alright, I’ve got you. Tell me you aren’t hurt badly!

Y/N Cookie: Still breathing and-WHOA! Hey, come on now, Holly! I can’t exactly do that now that you’re squeezing me tightly again!

Hollyberry Cookie: Haha! It’s just that I’m really happy to see you alive! You had no idea how horrified I was when the Red Dragon carried you away! Pitaya Dr-Pitaya Cookie is still fuming from that!

Pitaya Cookie: Your dough! It’s all scratched up! Grrr, that imposter will pay for this….

Tarte Tatin Cookie: You are incredibly lucky to have escape the dragon’s grasp…

Snapdragon: (worried babbling as they went to your side)

Royal Margarine: What do we do know? The Red Dragon will surely come back!

Y/N Cookie: I can still fight, we can still make it to-ARGH!

Hollyberry Cookie: I can’t let that happen, Y/N Cookie. I can carry you the rest of the way, but you’re not drawing your blade again.

Y/N Cookie: Don’t worry about me, the others are hurt too..

Tarte Tatin: Eeugh! I’ll be alright, Y/N Cookie.

Y/N Cookie: Liar…

———————————————————————————————————————

Black Lemonade: ….

Bassist Cookie: Woah….gnarly.

Black Lemonade: Are..are you being serious, Y/N Cookie? A dragon? You fought a dragon?! Are you alright?!

Bassist Cookie: Yeah, are you all good, man? No lasting injuries or…

Y/N Cookie: Outside of burnt dough, several broken ribs, head injuries, and multiple therapy sessions, I’d say I got out of that situation pretty fine.

Black Lemonade: With what you’ve told me, you really are quite a big deal at your place. I’m..actually kind of flattered now since you’re a fan of mine.

Y/N Cookie: Oh yeah, totally. I’m hoping to make Snapdragon Cookie one too.

Black Lemonade/Bassist Cookie: Snapdragon Cookie?

(Cue Snapdragon Cookie suddenly popping out from behind you)

Snapdragon Cookie: Kyaaha!

Black Lemonade/Bassist Cookie: WHAAAAAAAAT?!

Snapdragon Cookie: Buubuu!

#brittle answers #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #crk x reader #cookie run #cookie run kingdom x reader #cookie run kingdom #cr kingdom #black lemonade cookie

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wolfjackle-creates · 8 months

Text

Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 2

Ghost!Robin won this week's poll as well! So have a little bit more of the fic for WIP Wednesday. *resolutely ignores the clock that informs me midnight was an hour ago so it is clearly Thursday*

Check out this week's poll if you want a say in what I post next.

Story Summary: Everything changed the evening Jason met Jazz's brother. Danny introduced him and his entire family to the ghost that is, apparently, haunting him. The ghost of the Robin he had been.

The ghost of the person everyone he's ever known wishes he still was.

All he wants is to make it go away.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.2k

-----

Jason did not sleep that night, spending his time beating up a punching bag instead. What sleep he did get was laid out on the mats in the workout room. Even that was plagued by nightmares.

So it was with The Joker’s laughs still echoing in his ears that he finally dragged himself to the kitchen to start making breakfast.

Danny was no where to be seen—probably sleeping—but the ghost was. He was staring out the window not doing anything.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” grumbled Jason.

The ghost did the head motion every Robin learned to indicate they were rolling their eyes. Can’t he signed.

Jason grunted. He…probably should have figured that one out. “Well go read a book or something and don’t bother me.”

The ghost gave him a very deliberate look before flying to one of the bookcases and reaching for a book. Only for his hand to go right through it. He glared back at Jason.

“Oh.” Jason did not feel bad for the creature. He was the interloper here. But the silence in the room was not helping anything. Not with his nightmares so close to the surface. He hooked his phone up to a portable speaker and pulled up his audiobook library. Today was the sort of day for an old favorite.

Emma Woodhouse, handsome, clever, and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence…

Jason hummed in satisfaction and turned his attention to the fridge. What to make for breakfast? He resolutely ignored the ghost who’d settled in his living room.

A few hours later, Jason was finishing the homemade fruit sauce when arms wrapped around his stomach and a head rested against his back.

“Mmmm, smells good,” mumbled Jazz, her voice rough with sleep.

Jason patted her arm. “I remember you liked the strawberry topping. Figured we could have it over pancakes. Batter is in the fridge.”

“Best boyfriend ever,” she said. She rested her head against his back and Jason felt himself relax in a way he hadn’t since he’d stepped out of the dining room and saw the ghost. “You left early.”

His stomach sank. Of course she noticed. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Jason,” she said flatly, a hint of warning in her tone.

He sighed. “I just couldn’t sleep. Too many thoughts going ‘round my head.”

“Hence the Austen?”

He chuckled. “Hence the Austen.”

She yawned and pushed away from him. “I’ll go brush my teeth and get Danny up.”

“He was up pretty late himself; might need to sleep in.”

She groaned. “Of course he was up, too. Well too bad. He could’ve gone to bed earlier and I think we need to have a talk about what to do next.”

“He said something about doctor yetis and a place called the Far Frozen,” Jason said. He stirred the strawberries and lifted a spoonful to test it’s consistency. Perfect. He turned off the burner.

“Oh. And you agreed?”

Jason shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice if I want that”—he jerked a thumb at the ghost—“gone.”

“Jason…” her voice had gone soft and he winced.

“I know,” he admitted to the stove. “I know it’s gonna be more complicated than that.”

She was silent for a moment before sighing. “I love you, Jay,” was all she said before walking away. Presumably to the bathroom to get ready.

Which meant he had to start the pancakes. He pulled out the griddle, added a wad of butter, and turned on the heat.

By the time Jazz and Danny returned, Jason had made a pile of pancakes large enough to satisfy a speedster. Next to it sat the strawberry topping and a jar of syrup in case that was Danny’s preference. On an impulse, he grabbed the chocolate chips, too.

Chocolate and Austen, the perfect combination for a crappy day.

Unfortunately, breakfast passed much too quickly for his tastes and soon enough they were packing away the leftovers in the fridge.

“Jazz, you’re so lucky you found someone who could cook,” commented Danny.

Jason had to laugh. “Yeah, not one of her skills, is it?”

“Not one of either of our skills. Has she told you about what our kitchen was like growing up?”

“After your knife comment last night, I feel like she may have left some things out.” Despite everything that had happened since, he hadn’t forgotten that little tidbit. Jazz was so tight-lipped about her childhood that Jason made a point to horde every detail she let slip.

Jazz groaned. “Nope. I’m full of delicious food and happy. I do not want to have to remember the hell that was the Fenton kitchen.”

From the corner of his eye. Jason could see the ghost looking at them with interest. He glared at him; the ghost glared right back.

“That’s enough, you two,” ordered Jazz.

Jason broke eye contact and stared at the floor to mumble and insincere apology he knew wouldn’t fool Jazz.

Luckily she took pity on him and didn’t push. “Danny, Jason said something about you taking us to the Far Frozen?”

Danny nodded. “Yep! Frostbite might be able to tell us what happened and have some ideas on how to help them.”

“Well, Jason, Robin,” started Jazz and Jason had to force himself to not wince at the way she addressed them both. “When do you think you want to go?”

“Now,” said Jason immediately. “Or as soon as possible. I want to know what’s going on.”

The ghost nodded his agreement and made more of those chirping noises that Danny seemed to understand.

“Then let’s get going,” said Danny.

Jazz sighed again. “Hold it, Danny. Jason, you and I should go get changed. There’s a reason it’s called the Far Frozen.”

Jason took her advice and dug deep in his closet for the heaviest winter gear. Before too long, Jazz declared them both dressed in enough layers to satisfy her. They returned to the living room.

“Do you need us to do anything?” asked Jason.

“Nah.” Danny raised his hand and made a slashing motion with his fist. “That’s all it takes. There’s some benefits to being the Ghost King: my ring can open portals anywhere.”

Following the motion Danny had made, a tear formed in the very fabric of the universe. Though it, Jason could see a swirling sky of Lazarus green. Over his years as a vigilante, Jason had seen many strange and impossible things. But that tear unsettled him on a more visceral level than most. It reminded him of the pits, he wanted to run away. It felt like home, he wanted to run forward. Instead he stared, transfixed by the way the bit of sky—was it sky?—through the portal appeared to flow like water.

Jazz grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

Danny didn’t hesitate and flew right through, transforming as he did. The ghost followed right on his heels. Both turned to stare at him and Jazz.

“Come on,” she said. “We’ll be perfectly safe.” She walked forward and Jason followed, half a step behind.

His conflicted feelings got stronger with every step, but he kept pace with Jazz until they were through. No ground existed wherever they were, but he and Jazz were able to float in place.

Behind them, the portal disappeared. Taking with it his only hope of retreat.

-----

They've made it to the Infinite Realms! And Jason still has Feelings™️ about the ghost that's following. (Do you notice he never refers to Robin, even mentally, as anything other than "the ghost"? That's a very deliberate choice.)

The strawberry topping is a thing I make semi regularly. I will sit there and eat it with a spoon it's so good. But over pancakes? Absolutely decadent. (The recipe calls it a pie filling, but eh. I'd rather just eat it with a spoon. Or over ice cream. Or pancakes.)

#dpxdc #ghost!robin #jason todd #jazz fenton #anger management ship #i need to make pancakes one of these days #theyre yummy #danny devoured his #hes spent so little time on earth lately #that he was ecstatic to have good homemade pancakes #hed only ever had them when sleeping over at tuckers before

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writersdare · 1 year

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5SOS ♡ Masterlist

Last update: 03.08.2024

♡ – readers' favourite; ♥︎ – the most popular 5SOS work

Luke Hemmings

Hold Me Tight ♡ Summary: Luke has been plagued by nightmares, but Y/N was always there for him. Warning: hurt/comfort, nightmares

Let Me Love You Summary: Luke knew it wasn’t his fault Y/N didn’t let him get any closer, but he just wished to know what he could do to make it better. Warning: angsty, trusting issues, mentioning of a breakup, the reader may have low self-esteem Two Gummy Worms ♡ Summary: Luke was determined to take Y/N on a night drive. Some things, though, didn’t want to go according to his perfect plan. Warning: friends to lovers, fluff, mentioning of food

He Called Her a Fairy Summary: No matter how excited Luke was to go on tour, it was always too heartbreaking to say goodbye to Y/N. However, that parting was worth going through to meet again. Warning: hurt/comfort, angsty

Eyes Can Speak Too Summary: Being blinded by the feelings for each other, Luke and Y/N didn’t see the obvious things. Warning: friends to lovers, angst, trusting issues, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol

Sweeter Than Honey Summary: Spending a simple evening with Y/N, Luke realised she was always his happy place. Warning: fluff

Baby Girl Summary: Even in Y/N’s darkest times, Luke was always there to guide her to the light. Warning: hurt/comfort, disordered eating

Why Won’t You Love Me Summary: Luke and Y/N broke up after a few months of dating so they could at least remain friends, but seemed like it didn’t ease the pain. Warning: angst, fluff, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol

Never Doubt Me Summary: A date, it would seem, could not get any worse, but then Luke remembered a painful rumour he heard about Y/N. Warning: argument

No Longer Together Summary: Trying to move on from a breakup, Luke and Y/N found each other at the same room, playing “spin the bottle”. Warning: College!AU, angst, mention of alcohol and a breakup

More coming...

Ashton Irwin

Keep It Quiet ♡ Summary: Ashton and Y/N kept their relationship a secret for a while, but one interview made the things a little complicated. Warning: none

Give Me Attention Summary: Ashton and Y/N had been friends for a while. However, everything changed once she found out an unpleasant secret he thought to hide from her. Warning: angst, an intimate moment, a bit of cursing and mentioning of alcohol

More coming...

Michael Clifford

Don’t Be a Stranger Summary: The tour was over, and Michael and Y/N finally met again. Both were uncertain who they were to each other after months being apart. Warning: slight angst

Calum Hood

Ghost of You Summary: It had been four months of silence between Calum and Y/N. Could she finally move on? Warning: angst All Too Well Summary: It’s the first time ever when Calum and Y/N didn’t need to be apart, as they were going on tour together. However, things could never just be perfect, could they? Warning: angst, fluff, a bit of cursing

Strawberry Jam Summary: The winter holidays were simply the best for both Calum and Y/N, especially when a heating problem in their house occurred. Warning: fluff, friends to lovers

Password Is Your Birthday ♡♥︎ Summary: Y/N never doubted Calum’s loyalty, however, once controversial photos were leaked, their relationship was put to the test. Warning: angsty, mention of alcohol

Paris Broke My Heart Part 1 | Part 2 Summary: Calum knew he’d lose Y/N each time she’d start a new relationship, but that time it was different. She was leaving the country, maybe forever. Warning: 18+ (non-detailed smut), angst, fluff, friends to lovers, cursing and mentioning of alcohol

More coming...

– photo is obv not mine and belongs to the rightful owner –

All stories are original and written by me. Do not copy, trace and post anywhere without permission and credit. The stories are fictional, they do not correspond to reality and written just for fun ♡

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allfortheslay25 · 1 year

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Neil Headcanons:

(I have more hc but these are just a few I’ve written down)

After Mary dies, Neil sleeps with a pillow against his back. He can’t sleep without it there

When Neil is scared, he doesn’t make a noise, just either flinches or internally breaks down because screaming from fear or nightmare or whatever draws attention while on the run

Neil can’t cook with flavor at all. He sucks at it

Neil is a really good driver in every way besides parking. He cannot park to save a life. Parking was not essential on the run when he was a getaway driver so he never learned to do it properly

Neil picks at the skin on his lips so they’re really dry and chapped and scarred

He’s a nail biter and sometimes bites his skin to the point it bleeds

He had very few freckles due to lack of sun while on the run, but he still had some speckled over his face until they were cut/burned off during Baltimore

Neil slowly pierces parts of his body over the years to reclaim his body

He also gets a few small tattoos

He never properly learns to fight. All the Foxes take turns/bet on who can teach Neil to fight. Matt teaches Neil to throw a punch and it’s the farthest anyone can get

He jump-ropes at the dorms sometimes if he’s antsy and can’t trust himself to go on a run

Neil sometimes hates showers and finds them to be a hassle. He’s not used to showering so much because he didn’t always have access to a shower while on the run

He actually looks nearly exactly like Mary and less like Nathan. Mary just projected her anger for her husband onto Neil since he’s their son and said it was because he looked like Nathan. Neil actually looks like 90% of Mary but has similar hair and eye color to Nathan

Neil likes skirts but does not prefer to wear them outside the comfort of his home. He is not used to doing things that make people stare

Neil has a habit of needing to do something with his mouth so he chews gum sometimes (Nicky buys packs of them for him after Neil’s pens exploded in his mouth for the fifth time in a single week)

Neil makes dry, out of pocket jokes about his trauma randomly throughout a day

His favorite fruit is actually bananas but his favorite berry are strawberries

Nathan is polish so Neil knew polish when he was 10 but Mary beat it out of him because she thought it made him sound like Nathan

After staying in Palmetto, Neil becomes a sleep kicker because his body and mind are slowly processing all the trauma he went through and it makes sleep just chaotic (a temporary REM sleep behavior disorder)

Neil can’t grow anything more than peach fuzz on his face because Nathan’s male family genes don’t grow facial hair

In Neil’s second year, the Foxes all share their own meal recipes so they can each teach Neil to cook something that actually tastes like food

Neil’s favorite color is gray but his favorite color (that’s not muted) is blue

The reason Neil is not good with his fists in a fight is because he’s got better control of his legs and should be fighting with those instead (Renee is the one to realize this but since none of the foxes know how to properly use their legs in a fight, Neil doesn’t learn much)

#headcanon hour #aftg #all for the game #headcanon #neil josten

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icyg4l · 6 months

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PAC: Sister-to-Sister Messages

As promised, I said that I would post messages this weekend in regard to Women’s History Month based on the results of yesterday’s poll. This reading will be all about sister-to-sister dynamics. I am so thankful for the support that I have been receiving for these readings. It’s much appreciated! 🤌🤌 Anyway, today is the last day of the five dollar flash sale!! All readings will be $5 today! Come get it if you want it!!! Without further ado, choose your sister duo.

*** Disclaimer: These readings are meant to uplift, relate to, and/or inspire women!

Left-to-Right (1-3): Chloe and Halle, Beyoncé and Solange, Tia & Tamera.

Pile 1: If you resonate with the photo of Chloe and Halle, then this is your pile. First of all, your potential hasn’t even peaked yet, Pile One. Your sister wants you to know that you should continue to pursue your dreams. I feel like you have the tendency to start stuff but not finish it. What’s that about? She’s noticed this since yall were young but probably thought you would’ve grown out of it. But she still thinks that you will prosper. Those who resonate with this pile seem to be the baby in the family. You may feel like your sister acts too much like your mother, but she just wants what’s best for you. I feel like your sister is very successful/accomplished & you may feel that pressure to follow her footsteps. But in reality, she just wants you to be you. Be an individual, babe. And the last message that I got from this pile was kind of funny. Your sister feels like you work too hard. Where’s your boo thang? You need to let some stress off with a sexual partner chile, especially if someone’s been putting in effort to talk to you. Give them a chance! Maybe you can find a creative spark from messing around with them! In the end, your sister is supportive of your creative pursuits. She just wants you to put in more effort.

Cards Used: The Star: King of Wands, Four of Cups, Prince of Wands, Page of Discs (RX), 3 of Discs.

extras: “you’re being uptight.” “i’d put my life on the line for you.” spotlight. errands. ADD. chronic lip licker. “you stole my clothes.” new wardrobe. a kiss on the cheek. pillows. voluptuous. chanel. argan oil. tree climbing. golf. tennis. pierced earlobe. “i didn’t get you anything, sorry.”

Pile 2: If you resonate with the photo of Beyoncé and Solange, this is your pile. Damn Pile Two, you’re quite the looker aren’t you? Your sister sees the physical growth that you’ve made in the past two years and she is in awe of it! You’re absolutely flawless dear! But don’t forget to hold onto your vision. I feel like this pile is in high school? Maybe a freshman in college. But you have a lot of admirers. I feel like your sister is younger than you & they feel like you’re not paying attention to her as you as you used to. She feels like you mistreat her, not necessarily on purpose. It may be because you’re so busy. She wants you to not forget about them. Your sister is proud of your pursuit of higher learning (if you’re in college). She is going to follow in your footsteps because of this. But make sure you keep your promises, babe. Go to that yogurt shop with her. Go shopping with her at the mall. Go to the movies. Hell, go to the park with her. Paint with her. Spend quality time with your sister so she can stop feeling this way!

Cards Used: Nine of Cups, Ace of Discs, Four of Discs, Five of Swords, 7 of Cups (RX), Princess of Cups, 10 of Discs.

extras: strawberry & banana smoothie. teenage dirtbag. furry boots. sweet treats. calming down after nightmare. salad. elephant lover. french tips. sparkles. ribbons. bows. “speak up, honey”. abbott elementary. “i want more you.” “honesty is everything.” “keep my secret.” conceited by remy ma.

Pile 3: Last but not least, if you resonate with the photo of Tia and Tamera, then this your pile. Aw, Pile Three, your sister regrets the last conversation y’all had. I feel like this conversation could have been about how personal choices affect loved ones, i.e. bringing around terrible dating partners/friends, not paying off debts in time. It also could have been a conversation about codependency or feeling smothered. It feels like your sister understands why you left; you wanted to put yourself first. It took her some time to realize that y’all can be separate and still have love for you. Y’all need time apart to grow. Do you have a twin, Pile Three? Or were you extremely connected to your sister on a soul level at some point? There will be some time for y’all to reconnect but just not right now. There’s some stubborn energy between the both of you but y’all will reconnect once there is momentum in the both of you guys’ lives. She doesn’t hate you for being independent, but she does hate the way things ended, Pile Three.

Cards Used: Eight of Cups, The World, Five of Swords, Four of Discs, Two of Wands, Nine of Discs, Strength, 7 of Wands.

extras: “i have the balls, you don’t.” “it’s my prerogative.” oil and vinegar. liv and maddie. perfectionism. credit card debt. “drink up.” doodlebob. responsibilities. the old days. unplugged cords. cauliflower. fake vegan. bad eyesight. chloe bailey. drinking water. messy bedroom.

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goodlucktai · 9 months

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in the mouth of the world

one piece word count: 1k written for @op-secret-santa 2023 and my giftee was @viktorclawthorne ! viktor, two of your favorite characters are zoro and sanji, and one of your favorite pairings is platonic zolu, so this is what i came up with. i really, really hope you like it !

read on ao3

Sanji is in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair tied back with one of Usopp’s scrunchies, trying to remember if the raspberry or the pistachio macarons went over better last time. His friends inhaled them all in a matter of minutes, but Sanji can’t recall which ones went first.

In the end, he goes with mango. The fruits are ripe, cheerful orange, and their color pings as appropriate in his mind.

These pastries are finicky at best, and a punishment from god at worst, so leveling the battlefield by removing extra heat and moisture from his workstation is always step one. As a result, the room is very cool, the door propped open to let in the crisp winter air, a fan borrowed from Franky’s workshop whirring away in the corner.

Zoro and Luffy are in the galley, sitting around the scarred kitchen table—ostensibly to keep Sanji company while he works, but more likely just waiting around to see if they get tossed any scraps.

As Sanji whips meringue, he finds his attention wandering back to the two of them in time to pick up part of their conversation.

“—be anything,” Luffy is saying, spreading his arms out wide as if to encompass the full scope of just how big the concept is he’s talking about. “There are no rules and it can be as weird or funny as you want! What would you pick?”

Zoro hums, giving it some thought. A stranger might be surprised to learn it, Sanji thinks, given how severe and forbidding their first mate appears at a glance, but he is generally the first to fold when it comes to catering to their captain’s whims. This terror of a swordsman, this nightmare of a pirate, simply follows Luffy’s every step without even looking to see where it might lead, like a no-nonsense Belgian Shepherd plodding along behind a bouncy border collie.

That’s true for battle and danger as much as it’s true for shenanigans. Zoro is worth millions, is as much a killer and a criminal as any of those other Wanted men his posters are displayed beside, but he isn’t afraid to look silly. Not if it’s Luffy reaching back for him, sunny grin amped up to eleven, calling Zoro, you too! Come with me!

Zoro says, “Time, then.”

Luffy rocks up in his seat, eyes round and impressed, and says, “Time travel? Like the Fruit that Momonosuke’s mom ate, that sends you forward?”

“Mm. But mine would go backwards,” Zoro explains, leaning into the game of make-believe. “It would only work one time and it would start me back at the very beginning.”

Zoro’s birthday was a month ago, and Sanji made a dark chocolate truffle cake infused with enough liqueur that he guiltily baked a lighter version for the younger half of the crew. But Zoro had taken one bite of the boozy dessert and his eyebrows flew up to his hairline. He doesn’t usually go in for sweets, but the bitterness of the chocolate paired with the velvet smoothness of the liqueur seemed to win him over instantly.

It isn’t in their nature to thank each other openly. From as far back as Thriller Bark, the best things they know about each other are secrets kept from everyone else. But Zoro took a second piece when Robin’s extra hands offered him one, which said much more than any effusive praise would have anyway.

Just last week, it was Chopper’s birthday, and Sanji whipped up about a hundred triple-strawberry cupcakes, filled with ganache, topped with cloud-like icing and sugared fruit and sprinkles, and it was worth it for the way his little brother’s face went slack with awe when he took in the spread.

Until Robin and Vivi’s birthdays in February, there are no specialized desserts Sanji needs to prepare. His nakama will sometimes have a craving, and he tends to keep sweet things on deck for those nights when sleep is not forthcoming, for those cloudy days when it’s hard to see the sun waiting for them beyond the storm, but he rarely makes macarons just for fun.

The timing, the temperature, the moisture, all of it has to be exact, or the shells will crack, or the feet will spread, or they’ll come out hollow. It’s not a hard recipe, it’s just annoying. It’s the last thing he learned from Zeff, because he perfected every other dish on the menu well before he made a halfway decent batch of macarons.

No one asked for these. Sanji is well-aware that he doesn’t have to be standing here, sacrificing the bulk of his day to this thankless task, but he’s already in it now. The buttercream and mango curd are ready, and the shells are about to go in the oven.

“A one-time Fruit!” Luffy exclaims. Zoro could have said he would pick a Fruit that would turn his hair a different color every day and Luffy would have sounded equally as fascinated. “You would go all the way back? Do you want to change that much?”

“My Fruit wouldn’t work that way,” Zoro explains simply. “I wouldn’t be able to change anything or the future I was from where I used the Fruit wouldn’t exist, would it? It would have to stay exactly the same for me to get back there.”

Zoro doesn’t want a Fruit—neither does Sanji. They spend half their lives dragging their nakama who are already anchors out of the sea.

Besides that, Sanji wants to meet All Blue properly the day he finds her. He’s going to swim for hours and hours and barely remember to come up for air. A Fruit would only take from him more than it could ever give.

And Zoro has never cut corners when it comes to his own strength. But there’s something in his tone that makes Sanji wonder if he’s thought about this before.

“What if you wanted to, though?” Luffy asks. “Or what if you had the chance to stop something bad before it happened?”

“No changes,” Zoro says adamantly. “No diversions. I would have to live it all over again.”

Sanji remembers all the stories Luffy tells his crew about the trouble he and his brothers got into when they were children. He said there was a pâtisserie in High Town where chefs and bakers created decadent desserts catered only to the nobles. When they snuck around that part of the kingdom, a brightly-colored dessert in the display window there would always catch Ace’s eye.

Once, Sabo and Luffy broke into that pastry shop in the dead of night at the end of December, and made off with as many of those colorful macarons as they could carry.

“Ace was angry,” Luffy laughed through his retelling. “He told Sabo we were lucky we didn’t get caught and have our hands chopped off. But he hugged me for a long time after he yelled at me. The cookies were for him, you know? For his birthday! You have to have your favorite on your birthday.” Luffy had smiled as if it didn’t hurt at all when he added, “Even back then, Ace was bad at being loved. Sabo said he just needed more practice. He said that’s what Ace had us for.”

“And then at the end,” Zoro says, “when I catch up to the future, and I’m back where I started, I would have more time.”

“How much more time?” Luffy asks.

“Not much,” Zoro admits. “Maybe a few minutes. The time I took to use the Fruit before would be free for me to use differently.”

“You’d relive your whole adventure for a few extra minutes at the end?” their captain says, brow furrowing while he makes sense of it. “Would it be worth it?”

Zoro sits back in his chair, his dark eye fixed on his captain the same way sailors follow Polaris relentlessly across the fathomless sea, and says, “Yes.”

The final baking tray goes into the oven. The macarons will be ready for tomorrow night, for the party they’re going to throw at the close of the year. At midnight, Sanji will cart them out—bright orange, each of them painted with whimsical little whorls of red—and they’ll wish Ace a happy birthday, wherever he is. They’ll wish he was still here to scold his baby brother and eat stolen pastries at midnight with the people who loved him best. They’ll resolve to protect Luffy and enjoy sweets in his name.

It’ll be a good night. Luffy will be surrounded by his nakama and the open arms of the sea. If the macarons make him remember something sad, he won’t be alone. Luffy—unlike his brothers—is very good at being loved.

Sanji washes his hands, sets the timer, and then calls over, “Hey, idiots, what do you want for dinner?”

Luffy appears beside him as if summoned by a magic spell, hopping up to sit on the counter before Sanji has a chance to wipe it down, sending up a little cloud of almond flour.

“Beef!” he declares predictably.

“That stew you made with red wine that one time,” comes Zoro’s contribution from where he’s still lounging at the table.

Beef burgundy it is, Sanji thinks, hauling out his biggest soup pot. He nudges Luffy’s knee out of the way so he can close the cabinet door but otherwise leaves the young captain where he is.

“Sanji,” Luffy asks brightly, “if you could have any Devil’s Fruit in the whole world, what would you choose?”

“One that would make me a better swimmer,” Sanji replies without missing a beat, and turns his head to hide his smile when Luffy bursts into loud, ringing peals of laughter.

But that strange, tricky, highly specific Fruit that Zoro dreamed up—one that would make him relive his life and everything he’s ever done, everything he’s endured, all the pain and fear and joy and breathless wonder, all for the sake of an extra minute at the end—a minute he could use to look up at Polaris one last time and say thanks for taking me with you. You didn’t have to do that. I hope I was everything to you that you were to me—

That wouldn’t be so bad, either.

#op-secret-santa-2023 #op #opfic #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #my writing #viktorclawthorne #title borrowed from 'cold solace' by anna belle kaufman #just in case u needed a good cry lol

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certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 1 year

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Suzie, Do You Copy?

pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader

WC: 5.2K

warnings: cussing, steve and reader being in love (disgusting). should be it.

summary: Fourth of July is just around the corner. First month of summer moved by in a flash, your busy with work, trying to spend time with your friends and family, and making sure you get to smother your boyfriend in all the love he deserves. But just how long will this peace last?

A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG - The Byers Harrington Story- MY FAVORITE SEASON IS FINALLY HERE!!!!! if you have an updated username when you first joined the taglist please let me know what the old name was and give me to new one so you get the notifications.

this has been sitting since january 1st…

@alecmores 💗

series masterlist / steve harrington

previous chapter next chapter

With the mall buzzing with life on the final day of June, Scoops Ahoy luckily wasn’t packed to the teeth with customers. The booths and tables had barely a handful of occupants, a couple sharing a milkshake, friends laughing and gossiping over their cups or cones in one of the corner booths, and a single mom with her child who was sloppily indulging in their sweet treat. People come in and out of the store with their desserts to continue browsing the giant structure.

Robin was stationed at the counter, scooping orders and ringing their prices. Steve was busting some tables in the lobby before his fifteen started, and you were in the back checking the inventory. Somehow you got bumped to assistant manager, a mystery still swimming in your brain.

Even with it being summer in Hawkins, you had to bring a nice sweater with you for every shift since you’ll most likely end up in the freezer for a few hours, jotting down what flavors are running low, what requires reordering and what flavors need to be pushed more. Sometimes when you run into Robin or Steve after leaving the ice box, the nickname you gave it, they’ll make a quick joke about your flushed cheeks or bright nose.

“Can’t believe I still make you blush after six months of dating.” or “Christmas isn’t for another six months, Rudolph.”

Just as you finished your inventory check of the night, the solid metal door slamming close behind you, Steve pushes through the swinging doors for his break. He threw the dirty rag and disinfectant spray in a bucket beside the sink, as you dropped the clipboard to the tiny table in the middle of the room and stripped your jacket off your shoulders.

“So, what’s the news?” Steve always asked that same question when you were done with your checklist.

“Uh,” you leaned above the paper, eyes squinting a bit, “need more strawberries, a giant tub of raspberry cheesecake is set to expire next month on the twelfth, and we need more rocky road.”

You sat in the chair beside Steve, head resting in your palm with your elbow poking at the tabletop. Your eyes were drooping, wishing so badly to just rest your head against your pillow and knockout. Steve must’ve noticed your tiredness, his eyes peeking into your view along with a poke to your free cheek.

“Tired?” You just nodded. “Was it another nightmare?”

You hesitated in answering but knew Steve would find out either way, “yeah. It involved you and Will. Wasn’t pretty. I almost called-”

“Why didn’t you?” He interrupted. “Steve, I didn’t want to wake you, plus, it wasn’t crazy horrible. I was just… just shook me up a little.” A truth and a lie.

He sighed, “(Y/n),” he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned your attention to him, “if you ever have a nightmare, whether I’m in it or not, please just call me. I will come over without hesitation, you know I’m always looking for an excuse to stay at your place.” A gentle smile brightened his face.

“You know my mom is okay with you staying over.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Plus, Jonathan probably needs space from me now and then.” Their relationship was still a bit rocky, but Steve was constantly working on fixing it, and Jonathan was just… allowing it to happen.

“Speaking of staying over,” you twisted in your seat so your knees were touching, “wanna come over tonight? After last night, I could use my human body pillow.”

Steve laughed, “oh, that’s all I am to you? A body pillow?”

“Well, among many other things,” you started to lean forward, hoping Steve got the message with your action.

And just when he started to meet you halfway, lips inches from connecting, the front bell began to chime repeatedly. Instead of your lips meeting in a sweet, sugar-tasting kiss, your foreheads connected. Steve’s eyes closed and he breathed a sigh through his nose, while you rubbed your lips together to stop a smile.

“Hey, lovebirds, your children are here.” Robin’s teasing voice floated from the front counter through the sliding window.

Steve reluctantly pulled away and threw open the divider. He rested his right arm along the white counter while his left was propped up. From your seat, you could see Mike, Will, Lucas, and Max formed in their huddle.

“Again? Seriously?” He took a glance at you then back to the four, “(Y/n) could ban you idiots.”

“I could, but I do have a bit of a soft spot for them,” you cringed at the flabbergasted look Steve was throwing you.

And when it looked like he was about to say something, another ding stole the attention. Mike’s bored face stared back.

“Well, except for Mike sometimes.” You mumbled before you motioned for them to come to the back.

You opened the back entrance, and one by one they entered the long hallway. With Will being the last one out, you ruffled his growing bowl cut, “you want a ride home?”

He walked backward, front facing you with his back to his friends, “I’ll stop by after the movie and tell you.” He then flipped around and hurried to join the other three.

Steve walked out in the hallway, hands resting at his hips, “I swear if anybody hears about this-” “We’re dead!” They all cut him off. “Have fun!” You chimed in.

You both waited until they turned the corner and were out of sight before heading back to the store. Steve took the free opportunity to pull you into his arms, back flush again his chest with his arms wrapped tight around your stomach. His head dipped down so his lips lined with your ear, “I think I was promised something before we were rudely interrupted.”

A joyful smile took over you, “oh really? I didn’t know we were handing out prizes at work now.”

“Oh, yeah. Helps boost employee morale or something.”

“Morale? Didn’t know we were in need of boosting.”

The two of you continue your slow waddle into the breakroom, Steve not losing his grip.

“Well, me, I personally could use a boost.” He finally freed you from his tight grasp, just allowing you to spin so you were chest to chest.

“And what could boost your morale, Harrington?”

“Hm?” He hummed with a finger at his chin, really playing up his act, “Oh! What about a kiss from a lovely girl? And may the lovely girl be you, Byers?”

You copied his theatrical gesture, brows furrowed, eyes squinted, with a finger pressed to your pursed lips in fake thought.

“Why not,” you faked enthusiasm that Steve fully saw through.

Steve went with his signature kissing maneuver. His large hands rested on the sides of your face, pinkies resting just under your ears, while his thumbs swiped across your plush cheeks. You would either hold his wrist as you pushed to your tip toes or Steve would already be leaning down and you would hold him in place with your hands at his face or arms wrapped around his neck. Today it was the latter, Steve being very eager to get his kiss before something or someone could stop it from happening.

And when his lips melted into yours, a steady rhythm was building, with hands wandering from their original spots. And just before it could go any further, your bliss was broken by someone loudly coughing. The two of you broke apart and turned to the point of noise.

Robin had a disgusted scowl painted across her face with her arms crossed over her chest, “Harrington, I need you up front with me while (Y/n) goes on her break.” She turned to head back up front before twisting back, “and (Y/n), you promised to keep PDA to a very low minimum at work. For my pure eyes.”

“Sorry, Robs.”

She pushed the saloon doors open when the ring of the front bell went off. You gave Steve one quick peck to the lips before pushing at his chest, “you heard the boss, go help up front.” With that you separated, Steve was forced to do his job and you grabbed your wallet so you could get your dinner at the food court, also for Robin and Steve.

“Okay, so I’m gonna head to the food court, you two want anything?” You said with your head poking through the divider.

Robin and Steve were both helping customers so you waited with patience for them to respond to you. As you waited, you unabashedly watched Steve while he scooped ice cream, and as you were mesmerized by his biceps, the lights turned off.

“That’s weird,” Steve voiced before walking to the switch.

You and Robin watched as he flicked it on and off, continuing to mess with it even though it showed no results. Your heart rate was slowly picking up speed with the length of the lights being off.

“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin pointed out.

“Oh, really?” Steve shot back before going back to flicking the switch even faster.

Still, nothing was happening, and he finally stopped. You curled your nails into your palms, needing to feel something. Steve went back to flicking the switch, slower this time. And on the fifth time, when he flicked the switch on the lights returned to life.

“Let there be light,” and he went back to the ice cream.

Robin just glared at him before turning to you, “what a guy,” And before she could make a snide comment, she leaned in closer, “are you- are you okay? You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

“Yeah, yeah, just not a fan of the dark. Uh, you want- you want anything, from the food court?” Needing to change the subject quickly.

She looked at you with hesitation, but played along, “uh, Orange Julius. My usual.” And she turned to the register, Steve taking her spot.

“You want anything from the food court?” “A coke and fries from Burger King, please.”

With their orders, you left the shop to officially start your hour break.

…

You ate your pancakes and eggs in the slow morning quiet. Will was beside you as he leaned over and grabbed another pancake, but you smacked his hand causing him to drop it.

“What?”

“Save that for Steve. You got enough on your plate.” And you shoved a fork of eggs into your mouth.

You heard a door open and footsteps before Steve came into view at the end of the hall. You flashed him a smile as he took the seat across from Will, while he took the plate where the leftover pancakes and eggs sat.

“Thank you, Ms. Byers.” Steve’s voice was deep from just waking up.

She flailed a hand, “how many times do I have to tell you, Steve? You can call me, Joyce.”

“I’ll probably need a few more reminders before it sticks.” He chuckled and then reached for the syrup.

Soon Jonathan’s door cracked open and he was rushing out while finishing his buttons. Joyce rushed over to him, Jonathan slowing his steps. You noticed the faint lipstick kiss on his cheek, but no Nancy behind him.

“Wait up.” Joyce stopped him.

“Oh, no, I’ll eat at work. I’m late.”

“No, your cheek.” And she swiped at the makeup.

Jonathan moved her hand away, “all right, all right. I gotta run. See you later.”

“Tell Nancy she can leave through the front door next time,” you yelled before the front door shut with a slam.

“Ugh. Gross.” Will muttered as Joyce walked back to her seat.

“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna think it’s gross when you fall in love.” She looked from Will to you and Steve, “just look at (Y/n) and Steve. Don’t you want what they have?”

Will eyed the both of you, you and Steve stopped eating to hear what Will was gonna say, “what? Constantly eating each other's faces?”

“Dude, come on.” You groaned at Will while Steve just laughed.

“But, Will,” Steve stopped laughing and looked directly at Will, “I’m sure you’ll find a special girl later in life. You’re a catch.”

“I’m not gonna fall in love,” Will mumbled as he poured syrup over his food.

You heard the hidden pain in his words and understood why he thought he wasn’t gonna fall in love. You gave a slight tap to Will’s foot, his eyes looking your way and you threw a small smile to show just an ounce of your love and support for him.

“What- what happened here?” Joyce muttered as she walked near the fridge.

You and Will watched as she picked up a pile of papers and magnets that must have fallen off the fridge in the middle of the night. You saw how she looked at a drawing Will did for Bob, her hand lingering before joining the three of you at the table.

“So, Will, have any plans today?” You questioned him with a mouth full of pancakes.

“Dustin’s coming home from camp today, so we’re going to surprise him at his house. Ms. Henderson was really excited about the idea.”

“Oh! You guys should try and stop by today if you have time. I know Steve is just dying to see Dustin, aren’t you Stevie?” Your attention is on him now.

You spotted the slight flush to his ears but didn’t comment on it. Steve nodded his head while chewing his food before speaking, “yeah, really miss the know it all.” A tease mixed with fondness.

…

You had a lovely day off today, but sadly Steve and Robin had to work. So you dropped Steve off at the mall, drove off in his BMW, promised to pick him and Robin up at the end of their shift, and decided to keep Joyce company at Melvard’s. With Starcourt bringing newer stores and better work, downtown was empty. Ghost of stores that used to be full of business and life was now just rotting buildings with their windows papered over, and envelopes stuffed at the doorway.

When you pulled up to the storefront, through the window you watched Joyce hanging a giant sale sign, fifty to seventy percent off everything. It worried you knowing that Melvard’s was probably the next store to go out of business, the one store that Joyce has worked at for as long as you can remember. You knew small little Hawkins couldn’t stay the same forever, it still worried you every day.

The bell jingled at your arrival, Joyce already smiling at your visit.

“Hi, honey. What’s up?” She hopped off the little stool and met you halfway.

You shrugged, “wanted to keep you company for a bit. Jonathan’s at work, Will’s welcoming Dustin back, and my friend and boyfriend are working today.”

“Wha- what about your other friend? That- that Munson kid?” “Uh, I heard he went out of town for a few weeks or something.” You threw your arms over Joyce’s shoulders with your face pressed to her neck, “you don’t want your favorite child visiting you?”

Her arms wrapped around your waist, “well, I don’t see Will anywhere…”

You pulled away with a hurt gasp, “mother, I am hurt. Your only daughter, how could you?”

The two of you burst into giggles over your dramatics and before you could be carried any further the bell rang again. Two pairs of eyes landing on, “hi, Hopper.” A wave thrown his way which he returned with a gentle smile.

“Sorry for interrupting-”

“Oh, it’s fine, Hop. What can we do? Or whoever you need.” Joyce started to walk away to the cash register. You stayed behind, taking note of the nervous look on Hopper’s face. Joyce turned around at the quiet coming from the tall man and scoffed, “what now?” This must have been a recurring thing between them.

“(Y/n), could you grab the pricing gun and follow me?” And she headed to an aisle with Hopper in tow.

“So Mike was at the cabin again last night, the two of them in her room, being gross. They were giggling and kissing,” Hopper looked like he wanted to throw up at the memory, “and I always make sure that her door is open three inches, so I took a peek inside to make sure nobody was crossing a line. And when I saw them kissing and called them out-”

“Could you mark this side while I do the wall? Should be three dollars, everything.” Joyce stopped Hopper's story to instruct you. “You can continue, Hopper,” you said as you walked past him.

It was a few seconds before he spoke up again, “and- and then El, she just… slams the door. Right in my face.”

“Uh-huh?” Joyce absent-mindedly responded.

“You know, it’s that smug son of a bitch, Mike. He’s corrupting her, I’m telling you.” Footsteps sounded against the cool tile, “and I’m just gonna lose it. I mean, I am gonna lose it, Joyce.”

“Just take it down, Hopper.” Her voice sounded on the other side of your aisle.

“I need them to break up.” Hopper’s voice was firm.

“That is not your decision to make.” Joyce continued to price variest items.

“They’re spending entirely too much time together. You agree with me about that, right?” Hopper stood from his spot.

“Well, (Y/n) and Steve spend a lot of time together, at work and outside. And I mean, they’re just kissing, right?” Joyce pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s constant. It is constant.” Hopper sounded like he was gonna blow a top.

You were about to voice an opinion of yours, but Joyce beat you to speaking first, “Oh, you should hear what Will says about (Y/n) and Steve, especially this morning-”

“Mom! Don’t say stuff like that.” You groaned.

“What- I’m just trying to help Hopper with examples.”

“Yeah, but I’m- Steve and I, we’re adults. It’s a bit more acceptable than when two, what, thirteen-year-olds do it. Look it sounds nice that El has someone she likes being around, but she and Mike are practically attached at the hip. And also add to the fact that they can’t stop sucking face, it’s gross. I’m gonna have to side with Hopper.”

Hopper points a hand at you, “thank you. You see, it’s not normal, it’s not healthy.”

“Well, you can’t just force them apart. I mean, they’re not little kids anymore, Hop. They’re teenagers.” Hopper walked his way over to Joyce, you following behind, “and (Y/n), you and Steve aren’t adults yet, the both of you are still teenagers as well.”

“Steve’s birthday is next month, he’ll be nineteen.” Thinking that’ll help your argument.

“Yeah, well, when he hits twenty-one and when you hit twenty-one, I’ll consider the both of you pre-adults. And when you hit twenty-five, that’s when you’re a full-fledged adult. Now, Hop,” her attention is done with you and back to Hopper who was throwing something into the air before catching it, “if you order them around like a cop, then they’re gonna rebel. It’s just what they do.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“So what, I’m just supposed to let them do whatever they want?” Hopper flayed his arms out.

Joyce huffed, “no, I- I didn’t say that. I think you should… talk to them.” Pricing a box of Tampax.

“No. No. ‘Cause talking doesn’t work.”

“Not yelling. Not ordering. But talk to them. I do it with my kids, right, (Y/n)?”

Hopper turned towards you, waiting for any answer, “oh yeah. Little one-on-ones with each other. Heart-to-hearts, you know?”

Hopper’s eyes looked away from you for a moment like he was mulling over your words. “A heart-to-heart? What is that?” He fidgeted with his hat.

“Well,” Joyce jumped back in, “you sit them down and you talk to them like you’re their friend. I find if you talk to them like you’re on their level,” Hopper leaned against a beam, “then they start to listen. And then, you know, you could start to create some boundaries.”

“Boundaries,” Hopper whispered.

“Yeah, but, Hop, it’s really important that no matter how they respond, you stay calm. You cannot lose your temper.” You noted the eye roll followed by his fingers tapping along the pillar.

“Uh… maybe you could do it for me? Or (Y/n), even, she could do it. El likes you.” A glance your way before it was back on Joyce.

“No. And I say that for both of us. You need to do this on your own, Hop.” “Besides, I’d rather stay on the outside of this situation, it’s not our place. You’re her legal guardian, Hopper.” You added your input, but Hopper just waved you off and looked to Joyce.

“No, no, yeah. Yeah, you could. You come over after work.” He stomped towards her.

“No.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head, “no, it will only work if it comes from you. But…” She trailed off while walking to the counter, “maybe I can help you…” she grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, “I can help you find the right words.” She began to scribble words down with Hopper leaning in.

You watched the two of them, how Joyce was mouthing words to herself as she thought about them before writing them on the page. Noting that Hopper’s eyes glanced in her direction every few seconds before looking away like he didn’t want to get caught sneaking looks her way. It felt a bit wrong to observe them, but there was something that just piqued your interest.

Before you got carried away in your people-watching, a blur of motion was caught in your periphery making you jerk your head towards the store windows. And you saw Nancy rushing away before she disappeared from view.

…

“I know this is a difficult conversation to have… but I hope you know that I… care about you very much. And I know that you-”

“Eye contact.”

Hopper sighed at Joyce’s interruption. You just sat beside her with your arms crossed over your chest.

“And I know that you… both care about each other very much- this does not sound like me at all.”

“Well, you never know. As long as you don’t strangle Mike, it’s a win.” You tried to joke, but it wasn’t working.

Joyce threw a hand over your mouth, “just keep going. Come on.” She encouraged him with a smile.

Hopper took a breath, “which is why I think it’s important to establish these boundaries… moving forward…” he looked down at the lined paper.

“No looking. You know this. Come on.”

“...so we can build an environment… uh… where we… all feel comfortable and trusted and open… to share our feelings- this isn’t gonna work.” Hopper stood from his seat and walked to the empty side of Joyce, “um, it’s not gonna work. It’s not gonna work.” He kept repeating.

“Yes, it will! I promise.” “Just gotta put a bit more… emotion into it,” again, Hopper wasn’t enjoying your criticism.

“Maybe I’ll just kill Mike. I’m the chief of police, I could cover it up.”

“I’ll be your alibi.” You said in all seriousness. You saw the shake of Hopper’s shoulders, a quiet chuckle.

“Come on. You got this.” Joyce clasped their hands together.

Again you watched as they held each other's gazes, neither one breaking or pulling their hands apart. You saw the tiny smile hidden by his thick mustache, you couldn’t see Joyce’s face, but you knew there was a similar expression gracing her face.

After a minute or two of the growing silence, Hopper broke it first, “you wanna have dinner tonight?”

And that was your cue to leave.

You jumped off the counter and made your way toward the entrance, “Uh, I gotta get going. Steve and Robin are probably missing my wonderful presence.”

Joyce broke her stare with Hopper, “Okay, honey. I’ll see you at home?”

“Yeah, if anything changes, I’ll call you. Bye Hopper.” He waved you off and you were out of the store and into the maroon BMW.

…

With the summer heat growing a bit more as the day went on, the mall was packed with dozens of people. Some just sit at the food court with a book in hand or a group of friends going from store to store with shopping backs held in their grasp as they chat away. Not a single one of them knew of the dangers that have slipped into Hawkins during the dead of night, the things you’ve seen and experienced. You wished you could live like them, oblivious and in peace.

In your spaced-out mind, you reached the brightly colored ice cream parlor in no time, brain lagging for a minute.

“-n). (Y/n), hello.” It sounded like you were underwater and whoever was calling to you was muffled by the waves.

The trance ended when the person shook your shoulder, head snapping in their direction with wide eyes.

“You okay?” Robin’s husky voice was a whisper.

You blinked a few times, “uh, yeah. Yeah, just- just tired, I guess.” You saw the look in Robin’s eyes, she didn’t believe you, “good shift?” You tried to change the subject.

She hesitated before responding, “busy as usual. Along with your boy toy not being able to stop crying for you.” A playful roll of her eyes.

You grinned at that, “Speaking of my ‘boy toy’, where is he?”

“Disappeared somewhere like ten minutes ago,” she shrugged.

You questioned it, but didn’t voice it, “wanna get lunch with us when you’re done? You wanted a ride home anyway.”

“I guess, but all hands within eyesight and no kissing… I’ll allow one cheek kiss. But after that, I’ll throw myself down the escalator if I’m forced to witness your sickening love.”

“Oh, that’s such a nice sacrifice on your part, Robin.” Stretching the sarcastic tone.

Again, she rolled her eyes and turned her back on you before pushing the backroom doors open. You followed a step behind and sat across from her, her legs stretched over the small square table. You swatted at her beat-up converses, “can you get your dirty feet off the table? We eat here.”

“And we also clean it, so it should matter.”

“Not all of us clean it…” you trailed off.

Robin just rolled her eyes at the comment. The two of you chatted a bit, bits of gossip Robin heard from passing customers, what you did while away from work and you made a light mention of the Mike dilemma with Hopper. A joke was thrown in here and there causing the both of you to release loud chuckles that presumably drifted into the dining area.

Your chuckles died off when you heard the hinges of the doors squeak followed by hands resting on your shoulders. You leaned your head back, your round dome mushing into starchy fabric, but you had a lovely sight before you.

“Hi, Stevie,” a beaming smile erupted.

“Hi baby,” he leaned down and kissed your forehead, “I’ve missed you.”

“Hmm, Robin told me you were, and I quote ‘crying for my presence’. Thought you could handle a few hours away from my quiet self.” A tilt of your head finished your sentence.

Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I always want to be around you. Like… you’re like air. I need you every second to live or I’ll die.” His thumbs swiped along your jawline.

You peered at him with wide eyes with your mouth agape, startled by this sudden admission. You wanted to make a joke, something to break the silence, but you knew if you joked when Steve just said those, it would leave cracks in his heart. So the most you could do at the moment was beam him a smile and twine your hands together.

“Ugh, I’m gonna barf.” Robin broke the lovely spell.

You bit your lip to stop the childish smile that wanted to follow her comment. Steve huffed and moved to the seat that was in the middle of yours and Robins. He ran a hand through his hair before moving it to his cheek and leaning into his palm with his eyes zeroed in on you.

“What?” You asked after a beat of silence.

You couldn’t see the smile, but you saw his cheeks move, “you’re just really pretty.”

“Well I think you’re pretty, without a doubt,” you tried to argue back, not being able to handle compliments thrown your way.

Steve shook his head, strands of chestnut hair touching his forehead, “nope. Nobody comes close to the beauty you radiate.”

You fidgeted with your hands before covering your face, not being able to handle the sweet honey dripping from Steve’s lips or the loving gaze that was staring down into your soul.

“Guys, what have I said? No PDA! For the love of my sanity, please.” Robin’s voice cracked at the end.

“We aren’t doing any PDA, Buckley. I’m just making sure my girl knows how loved and gorgeous she is.” Steve shrugged like it was nothing.

“Yeah, well it feels like I’m being forced to watch the two of you kiss. It’s so- ugh!” She threw her head back before smacking a hand into Steve’s bicep, “stop eye fucking her! I’m right here! Save that for private time, please.” Her hands clasped together, really begging for a reprieve from the two of you.

“Guess you don’t want a ride home then,” Steve spoke as he stood from his seat.

“Honestly if this keeps up, I’ll for sure just take the bus home.” She grumbled.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at their friendly banter, the two of them firing at each other just as the other shoots back. You can’t help but think that these two people somehow became friends on their own, with very little push coming from your end. It made you happy, one of your best friends and your boyfriend getting along well with or without you around.

“Okay, okay. Let’s put the claws away and let's get food because I am starving.” You mediated the situation from going any further.

“Yeah, whatever. Harrington’s paying for me,” Robin walked away to grab her backpack. Steve was opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

You just held your hands up, “you were eye fucking me earlier, this would make up for it.” A stupid reason, but you knew Steve would give in either way.

And with a simple roll of his stunning brown eyes, you knew he caved. And pretty quickly, might be a new record.

“You’re very lucky that I would do anything for you.”

“And that includes buying Robin’s lunch. Like the good friend, you are to her.” A quick tap to Steve’s chest.

When Robin came back the both of you left Steve behind and walked out of the store with your faces close together as you gossip around the fast-paced bystanders. And if one of those topics involved Steve… he didn’t need to know any of the tiny details.

...

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#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington reader insert #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x byers!reader #stranger things #stranger things series #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagine #The Byers Harrington Story

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cozy-mp3 · 4 months

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proving grounds

tashi donaldson x reader, patrick zweig x reader

summary: patrick takes you out to meet his 'friends'. all things considered, you think it goes pretty well.

word count: 3.9k(ish)

warnings: nsfw (minors will be blocked), probably not suitable for gn!reader, readers sexuality isn’t specified but they're dating a man and fuck a woman, no penetration, one (1) face slap

a/n: my first fic in so long, everyone say thank you luca guadagnino! i’ve forgotten now to add warnings so if there’s anything i’ve missed please lmk!

you’re being scrutinized, you have been since the moment you’d sat down to meet patrick’s ‘friends’. you mentally cuss him out again for how nonchalant he’d acted about the whole thing, how he’d given you no indication that you’d be sitting across from his super rich and almost-household-name level famous tennis friends. what’s worse is that he’s abandoned you with the excuse of needing some guy time with art at the pool table, whatever that means.

you’ve been quiet since you arrived, a little late because traffic downtown on a friday is always a nightmare that you’re never quite prepared for. it’s easy being quiet when patrick is around, he talks enough for the both of you and he somehow opens up more around art and tashi. in any other situation you might’ve cringed at how his loud voice carried across the bar despite it being full, but tonight you’re glad he’s stealing some attention from you, that you could sink a little into the cracked linoleum of the booth seat you’re sharing and only answer direct questions.

tashi has been quiet too, but that’s because she’s been looking at you all evening. at first you’d thought she was judging you, she looked so out of place in her neatly pressed dress pants and a sweater that’s probably eye wateringly expensive; you’d arrived fifteen minutes late in a work blouse from target and a pencil skirt you’d dripped cesar dressing on during your lunch break. the environment almost adds to the mortification, you can’t believe patrick invited this rich, important couple to a bar like this, one that is staffed almost entirely by college students and only gets away with refusing to update their decor because they pay for the hd sports channels and have great happy hour deals.

you feel as though you’ve been blushing since you sat down, torn between embarrassed and intrigued by the way she stared first at you, your face, your chest, the little white stain you’d tried to scrub from your thigh using hand soap in the office bathrooms before you’d left and then at the drink you’d ordered, sweet, strong and fruity. she’d raised her brow when you’d mumbled the name of the cocktail, strawberry peach something, and declined patrick’s offer to order one next round by simply gesturing to the whisky she was nursing and giving him a look you didn’t quite know how to interpret.

it’d been going ok, you think. art seemed easily impressed by you, somehow looking interested when you explained your job (customer liaison for a fancy interior design company.) and how you’d met patrick (an office party at said company, he’d arrived with one of your co workers but had left with you, you’d had the decency to feel a little embarrassed retelling the story, patrick had not. art had even chastised him for sharing some of the more colorful details from the night you’d met when your flustered squeak and elbow to his ribs hadn’t deterred him.)

tashi is harder to read but you think your original assumption had been wrong, you don’t think she’s being rude-judgemental, it’s more like overprotective-judgemental, like she’s been deciding if you’re good enough for her friend. it might be sweet if she wasn’t so intimidating. she’d reclined back into the booth when art had left, her legs crossed and her elbow draped over the back of the seat, her eyes fixed on you now that patrick wasn’t there to divert any of her attention.

“patrick mentioned you’re coming to his match next week,” she says eventually and you nod, happy to engage in some conversation to alleviate the silence and equally eager to impress her, you can prove you’re good enough for patrick, good enough to join their friend group, “that’s good,” she hums, finally quirking her lips into a smile, “tennis is important to him, it’s good he wants to include you, means he’s serious.”

“i’ve never been to a match before, i’m excited to see him play,” you reply, allowing your own lips to lift. it’s nice to have some reassurance that patrick is really into you, for all his overconfidence and shamelessnes you really do like him too. “you’re his coach, right?,” you ask, although you already know that she is, patrick oscillates between praising her in a way that almost makes you jealous and pressing his forehead into the curve of your neck and complaining about how hard she pushes him.

“i am,” she answers, taking a long sip of her drink, “it’s nice to see my hard work paying off,” she adds while glancing towards art and patrick where they stand at the pool table, heads pressed together in conversation. you don’t quite know what she means by that and you won’t ask, you’re not even sure she’d answer if you did, instead you wave shyly to patrick when he glances over at the table and duck your head embarrassed when he makes a show of blowing a kiss towards you in return.

“i’m sure you do a great job, he talks about you a lot,” you mumble before sucking the end of your straw into your mouth to distract yourself from the way your cheeks are heating up again. tashi doesn’t respond but gives you a look you don’t quite know how to read, like she’s coming to some sort of conclusion about you that she isn’t going to share. it leaves you wanting, almost desperate to ask what she’s thinking but despite not knowing her well you can tell that would be a bad move, she’ll tell you when she decides. it feels very much like you’re a passenger in her presence, like there’s a game she’s playing that you’ll have to learn the rules of before you can join in properly.

the two of you lapse into silence again, your eyes flitting between the ice melting in your drink and your two boys at the pool table and her eyes on you. you tense when you feel the rounded tip of tashi’s heel brush against your calf but ignore it studiously, you rationalize it as a mistake, she was probably just adjusting her legs or something. you’d skipped tights this morning and it’d been nice in the office, the aircon had broken last week and you didn’t need any extra layers but you curse your decision now as you can feel the warmth of tashi’s ankle when she brushes against you again.

this time you glance up at her questioning but she only raises the corner of her mouth into a brief smile and continues her path up your leg. you hope you don’t look like a deer in the headlights as you hold her gaze, your lips parted around the straw that still sits in your mouth as you try to process the fact that tashi fucking donaldson is about to have her heel pressed between your legs within shouting distance from her husband and your boyfriend.

you blink harshly and tear your eyes from tashi’s to look over at patrick again and his eyes meet yours instantly. he’d already been watching, pool cue tucked beneath his chin as art makes a show of pondering his next move, the fact that he glances up and meets your eyes betrays that he must’ve been watching as well. you startle when tashi finally presses the toe of her shoe to your core, your thighs clamping around her leg in a way she must find amusing because she huffs out a laugh.

you feel hot and cold all at the same time, needy and aroused and confused. patrick, the asshole, winks at you before he turns his attention back to art who has apparently taken his turn. you can’t be sure, you’re so flustered you don’t think you could give today's date if someone asked. it must take at least thirty seconds for you to kick start again, for your muddled brain to string together some excuse about reapplying your lip gloss so you can excuse yourself to the bathroom.

you get up with as much grace as you can manage, tugging down the hem of your skirt where it’s ridden up and making your way across the bar as fast as you can without running. you can feel tashi’s eyes on your back as you go, it’s hard to decide if you want her to follow you or not.

you suck in a deep breath as the bathroom door shuts behind you and press your hands to the cool edge of the sink basin. it’s hard to resist the urge to splash your face with cold water, but you can’t remember if you’d used waterproof mascara this morning and you’d rather not go back out there looking like you’d given yourself two black eyes. you glance up at yourself in the mirror and grimace slightly at its dingy edges before focusing on your face, you feel warm from the alcohol and the phantom touch of tashi between your legs. you wonder again if you’re passing the silent test she’s conducting, you hope so.

closing your eyes, you take another deep breath to clear your mind. you have a decision to make here and at this point it probably isn’t too conspiratorial to think that’s by design. asking patrick to take you home and explain all of this is probably the most rational course of action, you aren’t quite sure that you want rational. it’s like tashi has a magnetic pull that you can’t escape, there’s something about her that leaves you feeling open and wanting.

absentmindedly, you think you might be beginning to understand why people join cults and the thought is so ridiculous it almost startles you into laughing. it’s as you’re thinking about her that tashi strides in, her nose wrinkling much the same way yours at the state of the mirrors as she stands at the sink next to you, her hands fixing the strands of hair that frame her face.

“next time we go out, i’ll pick the bar,” she tells you, her eyes meeting yours in the mirror, she shares a smile that you reciprocate shakily and it feels so good every time she does that, like you’ve worked hard for her approval and it means something when she grants it, “patrick has never been great at choosing where to take his girls out,” she says and before you can ask what she means by that she’s standing behind you, her chest pressed to your back and the blunt ends of her neatly cut bob brushing your temples.

“tashi,” you whisper, only a little humiliated by how wide your eyes have gotten in your reflection. she doesn’t bother responding to you, instead reaching around to hold your chin in her hand so she can tilt your face at different angles. you watch her instead of yourself, the serious set to her jaw and the slight pinch between her brows, you wonder what she’s thinking, if she thinks you’re pretty or if she’s cataloging imperfections. you hope it’s the former.

“you’re better than the last one,” she says and your breath catches in your throat. you don’t know if you should feel flattered or disgusted, you could push her off easily, her hand is still loosely gripping your chin and her other hand is now resting on your hip but there’s enough space for you to slip from between her and the chipped basin. you have a choice, you can leave and grab patrick by the wrist and make him drive you home, he’s only been drinking diet coke, alcohol isn’t included in his strict diet plan, or, you can remain pliant as tashi examines you.

you can tell she’s waiting for your reaction, it’s another test, you realize, part of her game. you still don’t know what it is about tashi that makes you want to succeed, to obey, to win, but you do so, so desperately. you don’t move, you allow her to press you closer to the sink, to tilt her head closer to yours so you can smell her shampoo and feel the shape of her thighs and breasts where they press against you. she smiles again and you know you’ve passed.

“does,” you begin, though you have to pause to clear your dry throat, “does patrick know this is happening?,” you ask and she hums noncommittal, shrugging one of her shoulders and repositioning her hand so that it’s cupping your cheek.

“he suspects it, i think,” she tells you with the same self assured nonchalance she seems to carry constantly, “he won’t be upset, if that’s what you’re wondering,” she adds when the unsure twist to your lips doesn’t let up. you nod and choose again to believe her, easing your grip on the basin where at some point it’d turned white knuckled.

tashi strokes the pads of her fingers against your cheek and you can feel as it heats against her skin, the slightly rough calluses you feel at the base of her fingers matching the ones you feel on patrick when he cups your face in his hands. her hands are smaller though, her fingers longer than your own but far daintier than his and her touch is less desperate than the way patrick usually touches you, as if he needs but tashi only wants.

“does art suspect too?,” you ask. you sound more breathless than you’d intended but you can’t help it when tashi has used the hand at your hip to tug your loose work blouse tight against your skin, the shape of your breasts and the curve of your waist now obvious in the mirror as the buttons strain to remain closed over your chest.

“no, art knows,” she replies simply as her hand leaves your face to trace where the lace edged cups of your bra now show prominently through the thin fabric of your shirt. you don’t know what answer you’d expected but it wasn’t that and to your embarrassment your breath hitches again, you wonder if art is telling patrick what’s happening in the bathroom, if their heads are pressed together again as they discuss in whispers if they think you’ll go along with whatever this is.

you nod in lieu of a verbal response, you don’t really know what to say, you don’t know if you’ve ever been this tongue tied in your life. tashi seems satisfied enough with your answer though since she doesn’t press for more, you suspect if she wanted a verbal response she would demand one.

“tell me now if you want this to stop,” she says after a short pause, her thumb stroking over the first of the plastic pearl buttons that hold your blouse closed, “i won’t be mad,” she adds when you don’t respond immediately. you open your mouth but words escape you so you rest your hand atop hers and press the pad of your finger over her thumb, applying enough pressure that beneath the two of you the button slips from it’s eyelet and the one beneath follows suit under the swell of your breasts. tashi’s hand slips from beneath yours and returns to your jaw where she forces your chin up to meet her eyes in the mirror, her pupils are just as blown as yours, the only indication that she’s as affected by any of this as you.

“i told you to tell me,” she reminds you, her neatly manicured nails digging into your skin, you can feel the slight chill of the rings she’s wearing as you mumble an assent, “tell me properly,” she demands and this time she uses her hand to angle your head backwards so she can look into your eyes directly.

“i don’t want you to stop,” you breathe and god, it feels as though all the blood has rushed from your head to your cunt, you can only imagine how wet you are, you’re surprised you haven't felt it dampen your thighs yet.

“good,” tashi replies and she squeezes your jaw with what you can only assume is affection, “i want you to finish undoing those buttons,” she tells you, making no move to remove her hands from where they currently rest. you obey as fast as you can, silently pleading with your motor functions to cooperate as you try to be quick and alluring at the same time.

you aren’t sure how successful you are but tashi seems satisfied as she strokes her fingertips over your now exposed breast. after you’ve untucked your shirt from your skirt you clench your fists, unsure of where to put your hands before tashi reaches down to rest them on the edge of the sink again. she strokes her thumbs across the backs of your knuckles before she trails her hands up your body again, stopping at your chest and meeting your eyes in the mirror again as she tugs the cups of your bra down and under your breasts.

you want to say something but you don’t know what, you want to say something but you can’t. you want to ask her if she likes what she sees, you want to ask if she feels as desperate as you. but you don’t, you wait, nipples hardening in the cold air, for tashi to make the next move.

“you’re doing well,” she reassures you, she can probably see the desperate, wanting look in your eyes, maybe you should feel ashamed, you don’t. she leaves you aching for a few moments longer and just as your resolve is beginning to crack she smooths her hands over the waistband of your skirt and down your thighs where she begins to tug the fabric upwards.

“tashi, ‘m gonna make a mess,” you warn once your skirt is bunched at your hips and her knee is trying to press between your thighs, “they’re gonna know,” you add, though it’s pointless as she forces her knee between your legs and instantly angles upwards, pressing the firm length of her thigh against the seat of your damp panties.

“they already know,” she reminds you and she seems uncaring of the mess you feel seeping through the sheer lace of your panties and onto the dark material of her pants. maybe her lack of caring is how she shows her desperation, maybe the way she allows herself to be disheveled by you means she wants you as urgently as you want her.

“these are cute, were they for patrick?,” she asks, ignoring the way your thighs try to clamp around her at the reminder of art and patrick outside, waiting for her to be done with you, the two of them just as obedient as you.

“answer my question,” she demands when your only response is a choked whine. her voice has an edge to it that can only be arousal which has your thighs tensing again. tashi is meaner in her demand this time, hooking one of her fingers in the waistband of your panties and letting them snap back against your skin as her hand returns to shake your jaw, as if you’re in a stupor she can jostle you from.

“yes,” you gasp, choking on a mortified moan when tashi slaps the plane of your cheek, the skin blooming with a tingling warmth that her fingers pet over soothingly as you open your mouth to answer again, “yes, they were for patrick,” you rush, your hands leaving the sink to grip her forearm in both palms. her skin is warm and you can feel her pulse beat steady where your thumbs are pressed to her wrist.

“it’s a shame they’re gonna be a mess when he sees them then,” she replies, the mocking edge to her voice softened by the fact her own voice has caught a breathless note now, “you’re going to cum in these panties and show him what a mess i’ve made of you when he tries to fuck you tonight,” she says and all you can do is nod. you feel pathetic as she angles your head toward the mirror to watch as she slides her hand into your panties, your cunt clenching desperately at nothing and soaking more of your arousal onto her thigh.

she seems to have concluded her game for the most part as she wastes no time wetting her fingers with your slick and rubbing fast, demanding circles around your swollen clit. her eyes meet yours as her free hand curls around your neck, her fingers pressing lightly against the sides of your throat at first. you manage to nod at her silent question, tilting your head backward onto her shoulder and squeezing imploringly at her wrist where your hands cling desperate, palms sweaty as you hurtle towards an orgasm.

it all happens quickly from there, tashi’s fingers squeeze around your neck and her hand somehow quickens between your legs, her thigh pressing upwards to meet your hips as they buck helpless against her. you feel the rush of blood to your head when she eases up on your neck and hear the squeak of your sensible black work shoes against the tile as your legs scramble for purchase. you can’t voice your impending peak as tashi presses her lips to yours, licking into your mouth to dampen the loud moan that escapes you as you cum.

tashi is considerate, she pets your cunt as you shake through it and uses her thigh to hold you up, her hand leaves your throat so her arm can wrap around your chest where she presses you tight against her. it takes a minute for you to finish riding it out but when your toes finally uncurl she helps you stand upright against the sink and starts to redress you herself.

“good girl,” she hums as she tucks you back into your bra and begins rebuttoning your shirt, “let’s get you back to your boyfriend, hm?, i’m sure he’s missing you,” she continues with a hint of amusement while she rolls your skirt back down.

“yeah,” you reply, voice spacey even to your own ears, tashi smiles though so you do too, “thank you,” you tell her as she uses her thumb to fix your smudged lip gloss. she only pats your cheek in response, taking your hand in hers and tugging you towards the bathroom door. it’s hard not to be mortified when you glance down at her thigh and notice the mess you’ve left on her, a large dark patch that only grows more noticeable under the bar’s lighting.

art and patrick are waiting at the table, art nursing a second pint and patrick using his straw to push the ice around an empty glass of diet coke. they both perk up when they see the two of you, like if they had tails they’d be wagging and this time you completely understand the look tashi shares with you, a little fond and a lot exasperated, as if to her they’re the most predictable people on the planet.

“she’s a keeper,” she says in lieu of greeting, keeping a gentle grip on your hand until you’re safely deposited in the booth next to patrick. you feel yourself blush as patrick tucks you into his side and art pushes a coaster with a glass of ice water perched on top of it towards you. you manage a grateful smile in his direction before you turn your warm face into patrick’s neck to escape the knowing look he’s giving you. whatever game tashi is playing, you think you’ve passed this round.

#tashi duncan x read #tashi donaldson x reader #tashi duncan x you #tashi duncan smut #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you

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