#and like usually i love talking to them and being with them

[misswynters]

short drabble

Ekko and heimerdinger are being nerdy while you sleep

requested. by anon

There was always a soft hum of machinery that filled the air in Heimerdinger’s workshop. And with that accompanied by the occasional clink of tools and the professor’s enthusiastic ramblings. The workshop had an oddly calming atmosphere, a mix of glowing gadgets, bubbling contraptions, and the gentle warmth of lamp-lit light. It was perfect for dozing off, especially after a long day of following Ekko around Zaun.

You were sprawled out on the old, lumpy couch tucked in a corner of the workshop, your head cushioned by one of Ekko’s jackets that you’d claimed for yourself. Curled up against your side was your pet, a small, scrappy Zaunite fox. Its fur was a mix of gray and russet, with glowing green streaks running along its ears and tail. Ekko had found it injured near one of the Sump scrapers, and after some patching up, it had attached itself to you like glue.

Ekko called it “Scraps” (because of course he would), and Scraps was now peacefully snoozing, just like you.

Across the room, Ekko and Heimerdinger were huddled around one of the professor’s latest inventions, discussing something that involved words you didn’t fully understand.

“…but if you accelerate the core’s energy output without stabilizing the oscillation, it’ll implode,” Ekko said, gesturing animatedly at the device.

Heimerdinger adjusted his tiny glasses, nodding. “Precisely! Which is why you must ensure the harmonic calibrations are synced—ah, but don’t forget to account for temporal distortions.”

As the professor continued explaining, Ekko’s focus wavered. His gaze drifted toward the couch where you were sleeping, your form softly rising and falling with each breath. Scraps twitched its glowing tail but stayed nestled close to you.

A small smile crept onto Ekko’s face. You looked so peaceful, completely at odds with the chaos that usually surrounded you both in Zaun. Your hand was loosely tangled in Scraps’ fur, your other arm tucked under your cheek.

He didn’t notice the professor had stopped talking until Heimerdinger’s voice broke through his thoughts. “Ah, young love,” Heimerdinger said, his tone tinged with teasing amusement.

Ekko snapped his head back toward him, blinking. “Huh? What’re you talking about?”

Heimerdinger chuckled, folding his hands behind his back. “There’s no use denying it, dear boy. The way you’re looking at them, it’s rather endearing, really.”

Ekko’s ears burned. “I wasn’t—I mean, I was just—” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re asleep, alright? That’s all.”

Heimerdinger hummed, clearly unconvinced. “Still, allow me to impart some wisdom, as one who has witnessed countless romances blossom and wither over the centuries.”

“Oh no,” Ekko muttered, groaning.

Ignoring him, Heimerdinger continued, his voice taking on the tone of a well-meaning but meddling elder. “When courting a significant other, one must always show respect, patience, and attentiveness. Flowers are an excellent gesture, but so is active listening. Communication, you see, is the foundation of—”

“Professor,” Ekko interrupted, exasperated. “I don’t think you understand. We’re not—”

“Young people these days,” Heimerdinger said with a dramatic shake of his head, cutting him off. “Always so quick to dismiss advice. But mark my words: treat them well, or you’ll regret it!”

Before Ekko could retort, Scraps stirred, lifting its head with a sleepy yawn. The movement must’ve disturbed you because you shifted slightly, blinking groggily as the sound of their voices filtered through your half asleep haze.

“Mm… what’s going on?” you mumbled, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. Scraps hopped off the couch and stretched before circling back to your lap.

Ekko winced, shooting you an apologetic look. “Sorry, Firefly,” he said softly, using the nickname he’d given you. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Firefly—because you were always a little light in Zaun’s darkness, buzzing around him with endless energy.

You shook your head, a sleepy smile tugging at your lips. “It’s fine,” you murmured, scratching Scraps behind the ears. “What were you guys talking about?”

Heimerdinger perked up. “Oh, nothing of consequence!” he said cheerfully, though his smirk told a different story. “Merely enlightening young Ekko on the art of courtship.”

You blinked, then glanced at Ekko, who looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. “Courtship?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t start,” Ekko muttered, shooting Heimerdinger a look.

The professor chuckled, his ears twitching. “Ah, youth. So easily embarrassed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Ekko’s expression, your earlier grogginess fading. “Well, did you learn anything useful?” you teased.

Ekko rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

He reached out, ruffling your hair gently before pulling his hand back. “For real, though. Sorry we woke you up. Want me to walk you home?”

You shook your head, leaning back against the couch. “Nah, I’m good here. I like listening to you two talk.”

Heimerdinger beamed. “A kindred spirit indeed! Intellectual discourse is a joy to behold, is it not?”

Ekko groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “And now you’ve encouraged him. Great.”

You just laughed again, feeling the warmth of the moment settle around you. Scraps let out a contented sigh, curling up in your lap, and Ekko plopped down on the couch beside you. His hand found yours, giving it a quick squeeze before letting go, his usual ease returning.

The three of you stayed in the workshop, for endless hours as the two nerds worked on their projects. Whereas you cheered them on at the sidelines with cute ol’ Scraps to keep you company. Especially when they would talk about all the science lingo that you did not understand. Even though ekko would sometimes explain it in more simpler terms. It didn’t quite go through your head. Needlessly to say you enjoyed the days you would spend at the workshop.

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @thesevi0lentdelights

banner. @anitalenia

[thargelalia]

Comrade Red Hood

jason todd x fem!reader

patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support

-> 3k words

-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive

-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him

“Are you upset?” 

“Yes.” 

“…is it something I did?” 

“Not everything’s about you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”

“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”

Silence.

“Sure you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?” 

“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”

“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, but I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face. 

Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.

Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.

Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood. 

Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side. 

At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM. 

A five hour nap. Nice. 

Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.

Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen. 

The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.

“Thought you were still out on patrol.” 

He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”

You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him. 

His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful. 

There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice. 

No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.

Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.

As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.

“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”

You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter. 

Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home. 

Isn’t that so cute? 

After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.

“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy. 

You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.

“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“

You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”

“Relax. I left the money on the counter.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”

“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”

You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.” 

“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely. 

As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow. 

“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”

“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes.  “You think I only read fiction?” 

“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?” 

“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?” 

Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”

“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.

Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital. 

Two, he knows you worry about his safety. 

Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home. 

Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes ��� like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other. 

Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring. 

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.” 

“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.” 

“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”

He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder. 

Devious bastard.

Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.” 

“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement. 

Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy. 

But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments. 

Especially not to the most precious person of his life. 

And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.

There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging. 

One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul. 

Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out. 

“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.

At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.

First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt. 

You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.

This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace. 

Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?” 

Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”

You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.

“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…” 

While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.” 

“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.

“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”

“Jason.”

“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”

“Jason.” 

He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.

“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”

“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.

“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.” 

“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.” 

“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.” 

He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.

“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.” 

“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well. 

Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner. 

“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.

“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly. 

“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”

thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33

feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!

this is where i got the dividers

[harrysfolklore]

i’ve always loved the piastri sis lore because the sibling dynamic is so healthy but just to switch it up a little bit in the tiny verstappen!sis universe i can imagine her skipping out on the WDC celebrations with max and be with charles instead and max is a little mad at her at qatar until kelly knocks sense into him 🥰

verstappen!sister was one of the first f1 fics i ever posted 🥺🥺 its kinda heartwarming that you guys still remember it and want to read more about them! it was nice to take a dip into that little world agai, i hope you like this!

READ VERSTAPPEN!YN HERE

The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred through as you rushed through the paddock, your heart torn between two directions. Behind you, the thunderous celebration at Red Bull's garage continued – your brother Max had just sealed his fourth world championship. Any other day, you'd be right there, spraying champagne and screaming until your voice gave out.

But right now, all you could think about was Charles.

You found him in the Ferrari cooldown room, still in his race suit, head in his hands. He looked up when you entered, those green eyes stormy with frustration.

"Mon coeur," he whispered, and despite his evident pain, his lips curved into a small smile at the sight of you. "You're here."

You crossed the room quickly, wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face in your neck, breathing deeply. "Of course I'm here. Always."

"I had it," he mumbled against your skin. "I had the pace, the position... everything. Then they called me in at the worst possible moment—" His voice cracked slightly.

You ran your fingers through his hair soothingly. "I know, baby. I watched the whole thing."

Charles pulled back slightly, cupping your face with both hands. "You should be celebrating with Max, though. It's his championship. I don't want to take you away from that."

"You're not taking me anywhere," you said firmly, pressing your forehead to his. "I choose to be here."

He kissed you softly, gratefully. "Je t'aime. What did I do to deserve you?"

"Existed," you smiled against his lips. "Come on, let's get you out of here."

As you were leaving the cooldown room, hand in hand with Charles, you nearly collided with Max in the corridor. Your brother was still in his race suit, championship cap askew, smelling of champagne and victory.

"YN?" His voice was smaller than usual. "Where were you? Everyone was asking... we were all celebrating and you just disappeared."

Guilt twisted in your stomach. "Max, I'm so sorry, I—"

"She was with me," Charles said quietly, squeezing your hand.

Max's face fell slightly, though he tried to hide it. "Oh." He looked between you both, jaw working like he was trying to find the right words. "I thought... it's the championship, YN. Our fourth championship."

"I know," you said, stepping forward to hug him tightly. "And I'm so, so proud of you. You were incredible out there. But Charles needed me."

Max returned the hug, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders. When he pulled back, his expression was complicated – hurt mixed with resignation.

"Sure, whatever. Stay with your boyfriend." He shook his head, jaw clenched. "It's fine. Not like it's my fourth world championship or anything."

The sarcasm in his voice cut deep. Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you and Charles standing in the corridor.

The next morning, you found Max in the hotel gym, pounding away at a treadmill despite probably being hungover from the celebrations. You knew your brother well enough to recognize when he was working out his frustrations physically.

"Max," you called out softly.

He didn't look at you, just kept running. "Shouldn't you be with Charles?"

"Can we talk? Please?"

He jabbed at the treadmill controls, slowing to a stop. When he finally turned to face you, his expression was guarded. "About what? About how you ditched your own brother's championship celebration to comfort your boyfriend? Because he finished P4?" He grabbed his towel, wiping his face roughly. "Real nice, sister."

"That's not fair and you know it."

"Kelly already gave me the whole speech last night, you know," he said, "Something about 'understanding love' and 'being supportive' and how she'd do the same for me."

"And?"

"And I told her she's supposed to be on my side," he said, but there was less heat in his voice than before. "She just laughed at me."

You sat down on a nearby bench, and after a moment, he joined you. "I'm still mad," he admitted. "And it's still weird as hell that my sister is dating Charles bloody Leclerc of all people."

"Could be worse," you tried. "Could've been Lewis."

"Don't even joke about that," he groaned, but you caught the tiny smile he tried to hide. His face turned serious again. "Kelly made some good points though. About how she'd choose to be with me if I was struggling after a race, even if it meant missing something important. Still doesn't mean I like it."

"I really am sorry about disappearing like that."

"I wanted my sister there," Max's voice cracked slightly. "You've been there for every important moment in my career. Every single one. Until yesterday. It's like ever since you started dating him, I'm losing my little sister bit by bit."

"You're not losing me, Max. You're my brother, nothing will ever change that. But Charles...I love him."

Max was quiet for a long moment. "You really love him that much? It's that serious?"

"Yeah," you whispered. "It is."

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "I still don't like it. And I'm still mad about yesterday." He paused, then added grudgingly, "But I guess I need to get used to sharing you. Just... don't disappear on me like that again, okay? I had to listen to Helmut asking if you were sick or something. Do you know how awkward it was explaining that my sister was too busy consoling a Ferrari driver to celebrate with us?"

"Did you actually tell him that?"

"No, I told him you had a headache. You're welcome, by the way." He paused. "But seriously, YN. I get that you love him or whatever—" he made a face at the words, "—but you're still my sister."

"And you're still my annoying big brother," you leaned against his shoulder. "So... fourth championship, huh? Getting a bit boring now, isn't it?"

"Never," he grinned, then added more seriously, "Would've been better with you there though."

"I'll make it up to you. Plus, there's still family dinner tonight."

"Yeah, about that..." Max's expression turned mischievous. "I might have told Mom to make that really spicy Indonesian dish Charles couldn't handle last time."

"Max!"

"What? If he's going to be family, he needs to build up his tolerance," he said innocently. "Besides, it's payback for making me miss my sister at my championship celebration."

"You're impossible."

"Yeah, but I'm a four-time world champion impossible brother," he smirked, pulling you into a headlock like when you were kids. "And don't you forget it."

[brookaboo]

little protector

Katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

Summary: Bakugo and the reader get into an argument that leads to an emotional moment, with the reader upset and their young son witnessing it. The son, who is around four years old, becomes a little protector, comforting his mom and showing love even when his dad is mad. When Bakugo returns, he faces the consequences of his actions with his son's silent disapproval

The argument had started over something small, as they always did with Bakugo. He was stubborn, fiery, and sometimes too prideful for his own good. You’d tried to keep your cool, but his sharp tone and harsh words had worn you down until your voice cracked, tears spilling before you could stop them.

“Why do you always have to blow everything out of proportion, Katsuki?” you said, your voice trembling.

“Because I’m right, that’s why!” he barked back, his crimson eyes flashing with frustration. But the moment he saw the tears on your cheeks, his expression faltered. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, he scoffed and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

The house fell silent except for your soft sniffles as you sat on the couch, wiping at your face. You didn’t hear the little footsteps until a small hand tugged on your sleeve.

“Mommy?” a tiny voice asked.

You looked down to see your four-year-old son standing beside you, his big red eyes—so much like Bakugo’s—filled with concern.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you said, quickly wiping your cheeks again. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead climbing onto your lap and wrapping his arms around your neck in a firm hug. “Daddy’s mean,” he said quietly, his little face pressed against your shoulder.

You sighed, running a hand through his messy blond hair. “He’s not mean, baby. He just gets mad sometimes.”

Your son pulled back slightly, his small hands resting on your cheeks as he looked at you with a serious expression. “Even when I’m mad, I still love you, Mommy. Daddy should do that too.”

His words broke something in you, and fresh tears spilled over, though this time they were a mix of sadness and overwhelming love for the little boy in your arms.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” you whispered, holding him close.

The front door opened, and heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. Bakugo walked into the room, his expression guarded, though his eyes softened when they landed on you and your son.

Your son, however, wasn’t having it. He turned in your lap, crossing his tiny arms over his chest and glaring at Bakugo with all the defiance his four-year-old self could muster.

“Daddy, you made Mommy cry,” he said, his voice firm.

Bakugo froze, his eyes flickering between you and your son. “I… I didn’t mean to—”

Your son cut him off, turning his head away with a dramatic huff. “I’m not talking to you.”

You bit back a small laugh despite yourself, watching as Bakugo looked genuinely panicked for a moment. He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a frustrated sigh before crouching in front of the two of you.

“Hey, kid,” he started, his voice softer than usual. “Look, I was being a dumbass, okay? I didn’t mean to make your mom cry.”

Your son didn’t respond, still pointedly looking away. Bakugo’s gaze shifted to you, and for a moment, his tough exterior cracked.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “To both of you.”

You nodded, seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes. “Apology accepted. But you’ve got some making up to do.”

Bakugo sighed, then turned back to his son, who was still glaring at him. “Come on, kid. Don’t make me beg.”

After a long pause, your son finally looked at him, his arms still crossed. “You gotta say sorry to Mommy again. And hug her.”

Bakugo’s lips twitched into a small smirk as he glanced at you. “You heard the boss.”

He leaned over, wrapping his arms around both you and your son. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice soft. “I’ll do better.”

Your son finally uncrossed his arms, resting his head on your shoulder as he mumbled, “Okay, but don’t make Mommy cry again.”

Bakugo chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Deal, little man. Deal.”

[tired-salty-vampire]

This hit way too hard. I came out to my mom late last year for similar fears. My parents aren't bad people, per say, and they love all of their kids - myself tentatively still included - very much. But it has always felt like there were strings attached. I told her that I'd been with my partner now for over a year and we plan to get married eventually. She said that while she and my dad would not shun me from the family, they would not be celebrating my relationship. Most of my family are very religious so I was amazed that I wasn't cut off on the spot because my parents had shunned my older sisters (who have since been welcomed back into family functions) for years on end for far less. I was proud of them for that and it showed growth and while I wasn't expecting them to be elated and jumping off the walls in excitement for me, I am sad that they will never be happy for me and that I've found someone I love, loves me in return, and that I want to spend the rest of my life with.

We spent our last Christmas with our respective families before moving out of state and neither my partner nor I were able to spend it together at each other's famiy homes because they are both incredibly pious and have forbidden the other from being at their house. So we are allowed to still be with our families on the condition that our partner is not with us. This just drove home even more the "loved with strings attached" aspect of family who isn't awful, but definitely not great.

"It's just so sad." This something my mom has always said about people who are LGBTQ+. Especially about my uncle, who has been married to his husband for three decades at this point, but I didn't find out by that he was gay until I was fifteen. He'd been a part of my life with his "roommate" who'd occasionally come to Christmas or other holidays. It just wasn't talked about because of the homophobia and essentially the homoerasur from my parents and their parents.

Whenever she would say things like that, I'd always think, "No, what's sad is that you think it's sad for people to love someone of the same sex. Or to realize that they identify as someone that they weren't originally assigned at birth. It is sad that you can't accept or respect people who have different beliefs than you and don't adhere to the rigid system you do, and you reject them on principal."

My only hope is that after my partner and I are married, my parents at least will allow me to bring my wife to family gatherings. Because I have every right to do that just as much as a heterosexual family member would.

To come back to what OP said, most parents of queer people usually aren't just straight forward good or bad, kind or abusive. It's very often some confusing and emotionally trying combination of "We still love you, but with conditions" and because of that you never know where the line is or what is safe to mention or talk about before they go off on you about "life choices".

Overall, having parents or family members who are passive aggressively "accepting" of your being queer is likely more far common than media shows and that aspect, as much as it sucks and is complicated, is still worth sharing.

I feel like we always see parents who are 100% super supportive allies, or parents who are horrible and cruel.  At least in media or in the most popular stories.  But I feel like that ignores just how many people have parents where you just have no idea?  And even if you think they’ll accept you on a surface level, you don’t know if they have a breaking point.  Especially if you need to go on hrt, or request they change the way they think about and refer to you.  Sure they’re liberal and all, or centrists, or “tolerant”, but how far does that stretch?

I think most closeted LGBT+ kids live like this, wading around in the grey area.  I’d like it of more of us knew that was normal, I’d like if we talked about it more.

[kaiserthebiter3]

can I request lads men as dads with little babies with mc?

tysm love your hcs!

L&ds men as dads

Xavier , Zayne , Rafayel and Sylus (headcanon)

fluff

requests are open :)

Xavier

● Xavier would be nervous to know he'd be a father soon , he never saw himself the person who is good with kids

● however once your child was born , everything was different , all the nervousness and the doubts are gone , he adapted so quickly , like he was meant to become a father all along.

● If you had a son, they’d quickly become "best buddies" as Xavier loves to call their bond.

● He’d be the type of dad who spends hours playing sports in the backyard whether it’s football, volleyball, or anything involving a ball.

● however if you two had a little girl , it would be harder for xavier to find activities that they'd both enjoy , but eventually he'd join her tea parties with enthusiasm.

● he'll buy her doll houses , every once in a while him and his daughter would go shopping for a different doll house, by the time he'll develop an interest in them himself.

Zayne

● hands down would be the best father if he wasn't as busy as he is , he loves his kids to death , especially that both of your kids had taken traits from you , their mother , it's like he is raising mini yous sometimes.

● As a doctor, he’s a bit strict about their diet , candy is definitely not an everyday treat in his house.

● he loves to take the three of you out whenever he's free , like trips to the aquarium , the amusement park etc..

● At bedtime, he tucks the kids in and reads them stories. Like all kids, they beg him to read the same story again once it’s done, and he usually gives in once or twice before firmly telling them it’s time to sleep.

● he'd help them with school homework as much as he can , especially in math since he knows how much you dislike to deal with it .

● would probably be scolding his kids and you included for playing outside when it rains , and you'll all come to him with a runny nose.

Rafayel

● he is a girl's dad probably , he likes to take his daughter shopping , absolutely spoiling her with toys and dresses , to the point where you scold him for spoiling her a little too much .

● like xavier , rafayel would also sit down at her tea party and join her in the playful gossip sessions .

● when he kisses you on the cheek , he'd tell the kids to come join him and kiss your cheeks as well "mommy deserves the best kisses in the world" turning it into a family tradition.

● in times where his kids are awfully naughty and tire him out , he'd come to you complaining "I didn't know that our kids would all be stubborn like you , I should've thought twice before getting you pregnant" and you'd roll your eyes everytime.

● His artistic talent clearly runs in the family , your kids quickly pick up on how to draw and surprise everyone with their impressive skills at such a young age.

● whenever he's away for work , he'd video call you to check in on you , and asks you to hand your phone to the kids so he could talk to them as well.

Sylus

● I feel like both of his kids would inherit his personality , and you always tease him how they're always "itching to fight" , just like their father.

● he loves braiding his daughter's hair , and not only when she asks him to , he genuinely enjoys it and finds it calming.

● His little son constantly argues with Sylus over you. Whenever Sylus kisses you or has you seated on his lap, his son tries to claim you with his tiny hands, declaring, "that’s my mommy"

● the kids loves their father's cooking , he rarely cooks considering him being busy most of the time , but when he does you all enjoy it .

● He insists on having Mephisto watch over the kids at kindergarten , you always scold him for sending a mechanical crow to a school full of children , but he says it's the best way to keep tabs on who's around them .

● on rare nights when he’s free, Sylus surprises you and the kids with little gifts , something meaningful for you and small toys for them, proving he’s always thinking about his family even when he’s away.

[deathbxnny]

May I request some headcanons about Victor, selika, Vander and Vi about caring and being with a S/O with ADHD.

Please and thank you

Arcane characters with an s/o that has ADHD. | Viktor, Sevika, Vander and Vi

Thank you for your request, and I hope you'll enjoy this!<3

Content: No spoilers for season 2, season 1 Viktor, established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VIKTOR

He was the first to notice and accommodate to your ADHD, mainly as he knew what it's like to live with something that makes life a little harder in general.

Viktor is very patient and gentle with you when you're having a hard time focusing on tasks or are procrastinating on projects. He understands it just fine and works with you to find strategies that make everything a bit easier. Whether it's studying with you or helping you out on research papers, you both spend a lot of time together, to say the least.

You two enjoy working on your own things in eachothers presence, as it helps you get over your lack of motivation and gives you a chance to talk his ear off freely. Thankfully, he's good at multitasking when it comes to you. Some may think your talking is excessive, but he finds it cute.

Whenever you're a bit more fidgety than usual, he'll hold your hand or give you a reassuring smile, yet doesn't stop your body from regulating itself naturally.

Viktor takes your diagnosis as a simple fact, nothing that defines or undermines your ability to be his s/o. If you need a little help, then he's very clearly okay with that.

》SEVIKA

She doesn't initially understand the concept of ADHD and doesn't care much about it either. Sure, she gets that it affects your day to day life, but she was going to help you out with anything either way even without the diagnosis. So, in other words, she's ready to learn and do as you please.

Your fidgety nature was something she definitely had to get used to, as she mistook it as fear or nervousness rather often. This typically meant that she'll ask you if you're alright a lot or if there was someone bothering you. Over time, she learns to look past it and see it as a natural part of you. If you can't sit still, then she'll let you roam around whilst her eyes watch you closely.

Your endless ramblings and deep interests about the most nichest topics also needed some time for her, but what got her the most was your procrastination issues. She did get not want to do things at all, but she would still attempt to make work as fun as possible in her own way. She'll accompany you everywhere and take care of the heavy lifting.

When she said that she was loyal, she was definitely not kidding around. Your ADHD changes nothing about the way she views you, and so she doesn't make a big deal out of it either.

》VANDER

Probably the most patient and understanding of your ADHD and its symptoms by far. He sees them as a part of you in a good way and simply accepts them as they are.

Whenever you procrastinate on chores or work, he'll try and make it more enjoyable by either helping out or promising you a nice treat after. If it's really bad, though, he'll just do things himself to not stress you out about them too much.

He's the same with your lack of focus, although he sometimes does get concerned about you zoning out when things get serious. Vander will still find his own innovative ideas on making you focus when he needs you to.

He loves listening to you talk to him about the most random things possible, mainly as it shows him that you're comfortable enough with the care he gives you. He also just enjoys weighing in with his own opinions about the many various topics you bring forth at rapid speed.

Either way, he skillfully navigates your diagnosis with ease and doesn't ever let you feel like you're burdening him with it.

》VI

Well, she certainly may have outlandish ideas at times when it comes to working with your ADHD, but she definitely at least has the spirit for it!

Your natural fidgeting and inability to stay still gets interpreted in you just needing to power yourself out. This makes you often find yourself in front of a punching bag with an excited Vi telling you to go ahead and let it alllll out. Whether it works or not is up to you, but you appreciate the effort even after you had explain it wasn't that easy.

Vi will make it her mission to help you out on projects or with work whenever the procrastination gets too bad. She'll also help you out with simpler tasks when she can but will otherwise try to make things fun, at least.

You two enjoy rambling away with each other, and it is her favorite thing. You're both bad at focusing on one topic at a time, so your talks can go on for hours, which she loves very much.

Your diagnosis is just a part of you that she very much loves, even when it gets difficult at times. She never wants you to feel left out or liked less because of it and does her best to never let you think that.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.77)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Tae and Hobi help Yoongi during your first wave of heat.

Tags: Yoongi x Tae x Hobi x m/c, Dom! Yoongi, dom! tae, switch! hobi, Sub! m/c, Foursome, heat sex, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, fertility kink, control kink, mommy kink, talking her through it, dirty talk, exhibitionism and Voyeurism, teasing, flirting, biting, a tiny hint of mind break, a bit of pillow riding, dumbification kink, size kink, dirty talk, hole check, inspection kink, fluffy smut, no hurt just comfort, okay slight hurt because Hobi has anxiety, coming prematurely, cum play, sleepy sex, brief referenced Somnophilia,

W/c: 14.4k

A/n: thank you guys for being so tolerant of my brief absense, i didn't intend to take so long to update this but unfortunately sometimes living through historical events can be really tough to get through. i can't belive we made it to the 77th chapter! i always thought it would be nice to get to this point because you know- seven is bts's number <3 bily is way too long lol

Previous part- Masterlist - First part

The hunger of the heat finds no respite and no quiet, not even under darkness where lovers touch finds seemly eyes blind. Your descent into fever is fairly controlled given how long it's been since you've gone into heat. It's gentle even as your body surrenders itself completely to your instincts.

But there is nothing dirty to it. Nothing that leaves you feeling filthy and used. Going into heat with the pack leaves you feeling clean of your insecurities and anxiety. The last little bit that clings to you burned out by the heat like Bitter weeds burned out so that sweet tall growing love can take the place of the barren fields.

It’s easy to burn. Lights just like that.

The next three and a half days progress in a haze of lust and love and comfort. If asked, you’re not sure that you could articulate just what it’s like- the thrall of heat. The fever that burns through you, simmers your bones to dry kindling and hungry wind. The fire that craves not for food or water or air, just their touch. Just them.

I would love to say that your, Jungkook and Jin’s heat goes well- but in all reality it doesn’t. In reality- it’s a bit of a shit show.

One omega in heat is generally chaotic, but 3 is a horny hurricane of slick, cum, and tears. Your packmates are bound to get exhausted at one point and fail to fulfill your needs through the own simple fragility of their bodies. Your alphas aren’t indestructible or immune from exhaustion, as much they like to pretend otherwise.

Normally Jin and Jungkook are a bit of a handful. On account of being a little older, Jin is sweet but a little demanding.

Willing to scruff the alphas just to sit on their knots and all but bully Namjoon into letting him hog his (Something that Namjoon only sometimes allows.) Possessive and protective of them. Often sleeping with one hand pressed to Namjoon’s stomach, his throat, or when the heat fever spikes particularly high- wrapped around his knot. Protecting it, keeping it safe. To make sure no one steals it.

Jin gets incurably sleepy during his heats, Awake one moment and fast asleep the next. Easily worn out. Jin’s pout is never far from his plush lips, eyes always about to narrow when someone denies him his requests (usually for his own good).

Jin has asked for…strange things in heat before. For the alpha’s to breed each other, knock each other up. For them to knot his jaw if they won't knot his hole (often already occupied). Stuff like that.  

But he’s softer sometimes. More maternal. Checking their bodies obsessively for wounds, keeping them in the nest no matter if they need to eat or pee or go let Noodle out the back. Licking their scent glands raw to soothe until the heat fever burns so bright that he can’t resist any longer.  

By comparison, Jungkook is a big bunny rabbit.

Insatiable and energized with every wave of heat, Jungkook turns twitchy and needy in the heat fever. Just as happy to bounce on a knot as he is to take a pounding. Jungkook requires stamina, Jungkook requires energy. Often laconic or non-verbal. Jungkook does not like it soft, likes hair pulling and biting and his knees scraping against the nest. Pulled from one knot to the next.

The pack is no stranger to waking up to Jungkook astride them, powerful thighs straining to lift himself up and down in the omega’s half-asleep state, sleep fucking his way to an orgasm. Their pj's pulled low or ripped if he's eager enough. Cute little gasps echo off the tall ceilings as he takes his pleasure at a dreamy pace. One of the alpha’s staring up at him sleepy, stretched out, happy to have a bit of a break from moving.

Jin honestly doesn’t know where all the energy comes from.

Sometimes the pack tie him up and fill his holes with some silicone just to get a break. With barely 10 minutes between his heat spikes at his worst. He’s willing to take anything- a spank to his cock, a knot meanly fucked in and out of his hole all loose when he’s too far gone. Anything and everything until the spikes get less searing and the fire ebbs from flames to embers.

Edging and overstimulation are the pack’s best friends when it comes to Jungkook’s heats. That’s what Jungkook needs; to whine and whimper and flinch at every touch until it’s worn out of him. Until pleasure becomes pain and then goes back again. Flip-flopping until Jungkook can’t tell if it hurts too much to keep going or if it feels too good to stop.

It’s a good thing he’s equally soothed with a plastic knot as a real one, that he’s happy so long as he’s filled and plugged up so that no cum escapes. Precious and warm and his alpha’s gift. Evidence of their claim and devotion.

Evidence too of what bonds the omega’s together.

Nestmates do this, they take their breeding together in their nest during a heat. That’s what’s good and right. What Jungkook’s instincts crave. There is safety in numbers. The more pups the better.

(never mind the fact that out of heat, jungkook plans to be pupfree forever thank you very much).

But everyone knows not to take the things said during a heat seriously. that all that talk of breeding and pups is just that- talk. what matters is the devotion and the sentiment. Yes I am planning on keeping you forever. No you don't have to worry if I'll love you forever, let me claim you, let me show you in a way that matters.

It’s cute even if it is a little gross, how possessive omegas can get of alpha cum during heats. Their bellies going swollen and messy with it. A little plug does wonders to soothe any of Jungkook’s discomfort. A spank to his hole before one is shoved in even more so. The cherry on top.

The pack has learned how to meet his needs well, even at the expense of their own. That’s one thing that separates your alpha’s from the others, they don’t think about their own pleasure at all, they don’t think about their own needs- only yours.

I want to share my side of the nest with you, I want to talk you through it- the pain and the pleasure. I want you to feel love in every kiss, every bite.

The pack has wondered many times over the last year where you fit on the spectrum from bratty to obedient, from lethargic to energized.

Would you pout and whine like Jk? Bouncing on their knots for a bit of reprieve? Or would you be like Jin- bratty and needy in all the best ways? A princess and the pee, the omega and the knot. It’s all very fairytale.

But compared to Jin and Jungkook, you’re a bit of an angel.

They thought after so long your heat would hit hard, that your body would make up for time lost and leave it long and drawn out and brutal. That your lack of heat for so many years would reward you with spikes that never end and pleasure that went too far. That it would be rough.

Yoongi would never want to abandon the others, but even he has to admit that you need to be his priority sometimes. You’re more delicate than the others. That is a fact that he's never been able to ignore.

But he need not worry. If anything, your heat just makes you more gentle, soft, and round at the edges where your anxiety and fear can sometimes turn you a bit prickly.

Something about the heat just wears all of your energy out of you, makes you sleepy and soft, hurtling down through Omegaspace so far that you can’t really feel anything if it’s not good, brain a mess of good pup, good alphas breed good puppies, knot good puppies too, pup pup pups.

You are completely pliant and suggestible. Tears forever hovering on the edge of your waterline summoned by the slightest edge of disapproval. Good, you just want to be good. To part your legs and let them have the sweetness between them. You don’t need to be needy; you hardly even need to ask before someone is there. Someone is always always there.

The need builds to a fever's pitch, a fire burning through you. You’ve never felt so touch-starved before. Your skin dimpling with gooseflesh the second you feel even the slightest warmth, the slighted brush of possible body heat. There is something frantic in you, the hot flush crawling under your skin that stills only when they touch you.

Is this what overstimulation feels like to Jimin? Is this what he feels like when he holds Tae? does he feel the same sense of lingering relief? You watch the ceiling spin as Yoongi heaves you up. Everything is in slow motion. Putting it together second by second. Everything slow and drippy like syrup.  

The thing about omega's in heat is that they're a little bit dumb.

Like, there's no way that you could have ever conceivably run away from Yoongi and Tae and Hobi, no way that you could have escaped given your small size and their height. your run is doomed from the start.

The heat hormones are a little intense, a little hard to thing through.

You can't get over how good the pack’s hands feel, how calloused and intentional, bird bones and painted nails. Slightly rough and always firm. Calloused between the thumb and forefinger from pencils or firearms.

They’re always so gentle. So gentle that you feel every touch as not hunger but love instead. Maybe that’s what heats are? The need for love and pack sated by your bodies, that would find no satisfaction in it otherwise. There is no lust without love for any of you. You wouldn’t have gone into heat without them and their tender love and care. The love has always been there and this is no different.

You don’t have to question if they need you and want you the same way that you do. The scent of arousal is heady on the air, not just from the omega’s- but from them too. You can scent it; how they’re feeling. Their hunger.

It’s as if they've just come from in from out of the cold. It conjures up images of warm fires inside honeyed houses, of someone washing your face and you trust them not to get soap in your eyes, of waking up in the nest with your eyes still closed, the warmth all around you. Someone buttoning up your coat. Something warm and sweet to eat in your hands, sugar on the edge of your tongue, crystals of sweetness glittering and dusting deserts like starlight.

Only you are that sweet thing, you are that warmth. Your alpha's are the ones that have come in from the cold. 

There’s this mischievous victorious edge to Jimin’s scent, the vanilla sweeter and smokier than usual. The concerned edge to Hobi's- the caramel all warm and melty but with a sharp hint- like his anxiety has turned syrupy by proximity to the omega’s in heat. The calm edge to Tae's; roses in the morning, cinnamon sugar sweetness for breakfast even if it will spoil you for later.

But Namjoon- you hiccup when you breathe it in too deep. A shudder runs down your spine.

Namjoon smells so much richer than usual. Mouthwatering and potent. Dangerous and musky. Namjoon smells like a threat and a promise. Like a storm coming that you cannot evade. Namjoon smells like an ache. Your lungs flutter around it, your breath going heavy, and your eyes roll back briefly.

You feel drunk on it, almost tipsy from it. So good that just catching it in the air makes you slick up, and it turns the tops of your thighs all glossy underneath the big shirt you wear, the big shirt that gets pulled this way and that when Yoongi and Hobi and Tae pick you up and drag you from the hallway into the nest room.

You squirm, trying to get to him at the end of the hall as they move you. Their single-minded focus is getting you somewhere safe and comfortable even as the fever climbs and climbs. Your skin turning hot beneath their touch so quickly that they share nervous glances.

One moment your skin is sweet warm to the touch, the next your pulse is racing and you’re burning up. Cheeks pink, temples damp. Your pupils are so dilated it turns your eyes dark and glassy, so little of their usual color visible.

You’d be worried and teary at Hobi's scent but it’s just so fun.

You’re having a hard time holding onto your worry. Being restrained by them feels like playing this way. His hands go hard around your wrists as you push and giggle. His thin bones pressed to your fragile ones. Grinning up at them a little feral, a little heat addled.

You try to push and roll away futilely, unable to put any real force behind it as Tae grabs your ankles and Yoongi takes you around your middle. You catch sight of his grin as you squirm. And his hands go harder around your waist. Pausing to tickle at your ribs before they toss you- a little unceremoniously- into the center of the nest.

Your body is bare from their touch for about two seconds but you still don't like it. No sooner has a whine started to build in your throat. Nuckles brushing the nest, belly up, staring up at them dazed. Then your alphas and mate descend on you. Depressing the nest with their knees and feet, rushing and hurrying to cover you.

The whole house is full of the sound of snarls, wet slaps, and the burning haze of arousal. The hormones drip to a slow build. Setting everyone on edge. Even Yoongi breathes through his teeth. You try to kick at Tae's thigh just for fun but pull back once Yoongi’s fingers scrape your ankle in warning.

Tae doesn’t seem to like your squirming, taking your wrists in both of her hands and pressing them into the nest until you feel it in the bones of your wrists. With firmness comes clarity.

Holy fuck. Tae's so hot.

Her hair spills over her face and her eyes are dark.  The hem of her dress pulls low, and you try to lean up to nuzzle into it, lips curled into a snarl, a laugh. You could bite her. You want to bite her. You try too- but it’s hard to bite her when all you want to do is laugh.

Yoongi's fingers continue to tickle against your ribs, laughing and giggling through your very first spike of heat, ticklish. Squirming, held down until your breath goes ragged and you sag back against the nest, your surrender is just as sweet as the rest of you. You're so dizzy you're unable to fight against them. The heat zoomies worn out of you.

You laugh until you hiss. Curling to the side just a little as you double over in pain. A wave racks through you. Burning and stinging from your stomach outwards.

Yoongi stills, one hand on your knee, eyes wide. Tae lets your wrists go so you can clutch at your stomach. Holding your face through it. Hobi's hand is hard on your shoulder, knuckles white, expression stricken but unsure.

"Oh my little honey, don't worry, we'll make it better, shh just-" She's a little more panicky than the rest of them are. Her hand goes to Yoongi’s hip, his waistline, all but tugging at his shorts as if to say ‘do something.'

Yoongi holds your stomach too. Alarmed by your trembling. "Are you- do you need-“a knot, hovers on the edge of his tongue.

But you just blink. “Yoongi- it's too much- it burns- Sore- so sore here.” You touch your stomach gently, but it's so sensitive it still makes you hiss, eyes watering. Yoongi's hands slowly press to yours, flat, long fingers covering yours.

It's gone as quick as it comes, the wave ebbing after a stiff peak. And after a moment with more of Tae's shushing. You relax, stretching back out in the nest. Breathing heavily until you aren't. Until the cramping and the aching need want need to be filled in your head quiets.

Yoongi's fingers swirl on your stomach, gently. It's sensitive, but it actually does make you feel better. “You ran, do you want us to wait for Namjoon or-" You’re already shaking your head no when Yoongi cuts off. Letting your legs flop open so that he can shuffle forward closer. Nudging at the back of his hips with your heels.

You don't wonder why Yoongi mentions Namjoon. He's the pack alpha, and the right to breed you first in heat is his as dictated by old laws and rules. It’s stupid, but it’s instinctual. If you weren't mated, Yoongi might be tempted to ask Namjoon for permission.

Yoongi huffs at the mere idea of it.

But Namjoon isn't like that. He cares about your wants first. His own ego is very far down on his list of priorities and probably ranks just after Noodle's well-being in terms of Namjoon's pack alpha running task list.

Dominance is its own kind of submission.

And, judging by Jin's snarling from the other room- he'll be preoccupied for at least the next hour. You don't know if you can wait that long. A whine drips out of you, a sound small and weak. The fire starts to tickle in your tummy, insistent.

Hobi shuffles closer to you. Bare-chested, his red shorts looking tight. Looking unsure. "You did run, do you not want-" us, does not come out.

You shift, futile in your efforts to try and get comfortable, it's impossible with the weight of your instincts pinning you down, the pervasive ache that's sort of everywhere.

“Nah, just ran cuz it’s fun. Not cuz I didn’t want you to fuck me.”

Yoongi huffs and Hobi's grin cracks. His anxiety dissipates, fond with it. Yoongi's fingers itch up your thighs, parting them just a little so that he can shuffle forward closer to you. Until you can feel the heat from his tummy against yours.

You can feel so much. Your whole body one big nerve ending. You can feel the slight fluff and softness of the peach fuzz on his tummy dragging against yours as he gets closer. The feel of his slender but strong fingers circling your ankles. All of it.

You like this, you always like it when Yoongi's close.

“Glad we cleared that up, it’s not like I can’t literally see you slicking up but-“ you laugh and try and swat at him. He drops one of your ankles to catch your hand and tangles it with his for good measure.

A small smile hovers on the edge of his lips. He searches your face, smiling at what he sees your dopey smile and endeared indignation. The heat might be new, but this is so familiar his heart aches with it.

“If you’re gonna tease me while I’m in heat can you at least make it good?” Your breath goes heavy. Warm and sweet, fluffing over him. Everything; the sweetness to your scent, the ruddiness of your knees, the messy fluff of your hair over the pastel pillow, and the relaxed sprawl of your body is a siren song for Yoongi.

Above you Tae and Hobi stay quiet. Just watching. Tae drags a lock of your hair away from your face. Patient while you and Yoongi flirt.

“I thought you liked my teasing.”

Your tone sounds petulant even to you, “I do just not-”

Yoongi presses your knees apart, up towards your chest abruptly cutting off your words as you let out a broken moan. He puts a bit more force behind it than usual, putting you on display, spread. The hem of your shirt hides nothing as you feel yourself clench and his gaze flickers down.

“There you are, now I can see that you like it.” Your entrance looks swollen and pink but inviting. Winking at him. Tae perks up, looking not at you but down.  

“Fuck don’t-“ you strain. Palming at his hands, inarticulate.  

“What? Don’t you want them to see how messy you are? How messy you get for us. You make it so cute when you slick up without meaning to, so flustered.” The dirty talk makes your bones crack like kindling, makes you gush fresh.

The smile on his face widens just a bit, and you hiccup through the shudder that rocks through you. Your body burns, your stomach churns, and your skin simmers where he touches. Stoking your craving for more more more.

A breeding press. That's what Yoongi's just put you into. Knees to your chest, your sensitive heat slit ripe and wet between your thighs, ready for the taking. A breeding press in front of two alphas, in front of Tae and Hobi, watching with wide dark eyes. Your mate presents you for breeding. An invitation.

“Hold her.” Yoongi’s command is not snapped or growled out but Hobi and Tae follow suit regardless. Hobi fumbles, grabbing one wrist and Tae grabs the other.

Ready. Settled. It’s a bit of a strange show of dominance. But inside, Yoongi isn’t surprised that you needed a firm hand. To be held down and puppeted and propped. To know that they’re in control before you let your alpha's breed you.

He says your alphas- but he's the only one you're looking at. The only one you're whining for.

It’s hard to articulate your hands or your mind, tongue wrapped around a sound that can only be an endless whimper. Tae leans low when you try to squirm again. Her teeth nip at your ear, a shock to your system that makes you leak a fresh gush of slick half onto Yoongi's lap.

You have to be spilling and dripping by now. You try and press your legs back together and hide but Yoongi keeps you spread. His thumb skims the apex of your hips, the dewy fold between your thigh and pussy. Teasing.

“No pup, settle.”

You obey, unable not to. Sprawled there with them looming over you. Tae's fingers hover around your throat, manicured fingers rubbing soft against your scent gland, sensitive and tender. Achy. So achy you tilt your neck and show her your throat. Dizzy. The only thing solid is Yoongi’s hands and your instincts that tell you to try and get them closer.

Your instincts know what you need.

All of you sort of hurts. A bone-deep ache that has pinned you here as well as their touch. The ache that turns you free for them to poke and prod and love at. Each moment of their absence a physical wound, each kiss and brush of skin- a band-aid.

Belly down, you need to get belly down and show them. Need to show your alpha’s and your mate that you can be good- that you’re worth breeding. That you can take all of the love that they have to give and more.

You just can’t move your body; can’t make it cooperate- you feel so heavy and tired all of a sudden. Falling slack. All the fight going out of you.

“There you go, that wasn’t so hard now was it?” Yoongi’s voice is a deep purr.  

You are missing things, the seconds slipping away as you start to sweat and whimper. You don’t see Hobi's stricken expression as tears start to gather at your waterline or Tae's eyes, dark but sympathetic. You don’t see or feel the way that Hobi trembles as he holds your wrists perfunctory now that you've gone limp.

But still, he holds you. the touch goes tender where moment's ago it had been firm. Hobi doesn't notice, Hobi doesn't see.

But Yoongi does. Yoongi sees all of it, holding your knees still, fingers rounding out over the bone, rubbing up and down your thighs, an inch higher with every pass, until the cool pads of his fingers are brushing your shirt. Shushing your whines as he shuffles between your legs and the meat of his thighs meets your ass. Shirt fluffing up to your belly button from this position.

If the other alphas smell good, then Yoongi is the heat in the back of your throat and the compass by which you fly home. Your scent spikes watching him settle on his knees between your legs, your toes pressed to his stomach still in your socks. White, to the upper ankle.

Yoongi takes them off, slow, fingers sliding over your calf. squeezing firmly, releasing the tension. Setting them to the side the way he'd fold laundry, casual, like he's not making you hiccup.

You can feel yourself clench when you register that there is hardness at the front of his shorts. Yoongi smells good, drippy, and chocolatey. You want him all over you. The fabric at the front of his boxers brushes your heat slit, rougher than the pads of his fingers, and you feel like you might just pass out.

Sensitive- your body is oversensitive. You can feel everything, the tickle of Hobi's breath as it hitches when he sees the mess between your legs. Sweet nectar to the hummingbird thunder of his heart in his fingers. Tae's soft growl rippling from her chest. Small chest vibrating with it.

Yoongi lets your hips relax and slides his hands up your hips to your waist instead. Bypassing where you’re sore for him entirely to go under your shirt, the rough pads of his fingers skimming up your midline as he says, “let’s get rid of this sweet honey.”

There are pet names everywhere. Pup, honey, little treat, sweetheart. On the edge of every line as he coaxes you to sit up. Sweetening every sentence. They’re unable not to add them, each nickname more loving than your own name.

How could you deny them the pleasure of it on their tongue. You like the way they say it, pup. Like you’re small and sweet and worth caring for. Worth claiming in a way that’s permanent like this. You trust them enough to see you like this, at your most vulnerable.

A shout comes from the hall. A loud repetitive smacking sound the backtrack to Yoongi’s deep satisfied hum. You toss your head to the side, looking towards the door with a loud whine. Hopeful to summon the other omegas here. Here where nothing is scary, and everything drips as slow as syrup on a cold day.

But you hear only hisses and snarls in response. A dark sound that becomes Jungkook’s giggle and something hitting the wall with a loud thud. A knee- or maybe someone’s hand.

The other omegas are not as easy to catch and soothe as you are. It will take one knotting each before the alpha’s manage to settle them and cajole them back into the nest. You go right away, no need to be disobedient.

Jin hisses loudly and goosebumps erupt on your arms. It has nothing to do with feeling cold on the contrary; the heat fever tears through you. You didn’t realize you were overheating until Yoongi disrobed you. Your mate is so good. So good at anticipating your needs. Guiding your shirt off of you with a gentle hum until Hobi can grab it and get it over your shoulders. All of this is so gentle.  

Yoongi’s hands stay on your back, making you lie back down slowly, supporting you so that your abdominal muscles need not strain. Hobi tosses the shirt into some forgotten corner where it’s doomed to be used as a cum rag in the foreseeable future. You blink up at them, two of your alphas and your mate.

Why won’t they- why can’t you-

Yoongi’s hand presses flat against your stomach, quieting your sweet whines. You are entirely unselfconscious of your body like this, unaware of the marks or rolls on your body or the soft plush to your stomach. There is only Yoongi’s eyes on you, maintaining contact as he sets you back where he wants you. One hand on your shoulder, the other on your waistline.

Fuck, he looks down at you, eyes darting from place to place, feeling his hardness grow. You look so flushed and healthy, your body glowing from within from the fever. You look- you look-.

Yoongi cringes internally but you do look ready. Fertile and sweet and glowing from fever. Ready for pups, ready to be knocked up, ready for breeding. If Yoongi was an alpha, god help them all. He can’t imagine what it feels like to the others. To have you flushed and cute and willing like this.

What wouldn't he do? What wouldn't he give for your happiness?

What would Tae write about this moment? Yoongi imagines himself as a fly on the wall, a poem inside her head.

I think of you in all the softest colors, collect moments for you in the palm of my hand, give you love until its nicknacks and keepsakes, slip through my fingers, too many to count, your pocket and bowl overflowing. You are that, my overflow and my undertow, I dreamed of you, I dreamed for you, and yet, you are still here. My bedtime story, my good night kiss. the moon to my firefly, the sugar on cream.

For a second, he imagines it. You pregnant. You bred.

Your stomach round and taught. He imagines watching you get bigger and bigger until you're waddling around. Your chest sweetening with milk, already supple now nipples pebbling in the cold. To imagine them bigger is honestly- Yoongi cannot think about it without throbbing and twitching. The hardness a heavenly jut against your cunt. Just as weepy and needy as the rest of you.

You look so healthy too. A lump comes to Yoongi’s throat at the realization. You’d have it so easy carrying the pack’s pup like this. But even then- Yoongi wouldn’t let up, on the contrary. He'd probably rival Jin and namjoon in their protective instincts and their doting. He’d cave to all your cravings and leave in snow or rain and sleet to get you whatever your pregnancy cravings might ask.

He never thought he had a thing for it; pregnancy and breeding is more an alpha's wheelhouse but you…All round and full of them. It wouldn't even matter who got to you first, whose seed would take all of that is your choice.

But Yoongi imagines your scent going milky, imagines how sleepy and brody you'd get. He wonders if you'd take to carting one of your stuffed animals around. Would your instincts prepare you to cling to everything small and cute and soft?

He already treats you like fine china- but pupped? Your mate wouldn't let you lift a fucking finger. He decides right then, he won’t let you do a lick of the work in this heat. All of your pleasure should be by their hands shouldn’t it? That’s just an extension of love, right? Dictating what pleasure you get and if it’s enough- should be up to them- you clearly aren’t thinking straight enough to decide if you need a cock in your cunt. That should be left up to him.

(Clearly, the heat is getting to Yoongi)

Contraceptive, you took the contraceptive, didn't you? Yoongi should remember that. He shouldn't be so giddy for something that is impossible now and for all real likelihood may never happen or is years and years away. This is only your first heat. His instincts should honestly chill, he shouldn't be reacting the way the alpha's do.

Even if there is truly no harm in pretending.

Why does his chest feel so tight? Why do his muscles feel poised to fight? His pulse beats a little quicker, a little harder, as if in response to you.

Yoongi's breath goes deep and ragged. “My little honey.” He says, voice husky, and you squirm. A little happy. A little overwhelmed by all the attention.

He picks you by your hips, turning you over, guiding you to present the way that all good little omega’s do. Tummy down and ass up. You blink dazed as they move you, losing yourself a little more with each moment.  Tae puts a pillow under your tummy and the crinkle of the waterproof pillowcase distantly assures you that whatever mess you make will not ruin the fun.

The room spins with the smell of them, the pet of Tae's fingers down your back as Yoongi spreads your knees so he can kneel between them. Stroking gently over your spine, pressing it to curve and arch for them.

“So good for us, so good presenting yourself, so so cute.” Her voice is quiet and honey-sweet. And you don’t know why but you suddenly feel like crying.

You want to cry in relief, you might actually cry over the praise. You are pinned there- beneath Yoongi’s touch and by his eyes as he looks down at you. He pauses to turn your cheek to the side so that he can better watch your face. Tae shuffles forward, picking your chest up and lying your half in her lap, your cheek resting just below the hem of her dress against her plush thighs. A predicament you've found yourself in many times.

You peer up at her, teary-eyed. Fists tangling with her dress, clinging to it, to her. You need something to steady you. Something to hold onto when your brain feels like a feather fluttering in the wind. Dazed and fuzzy. Omegaspace has never felt so intense before.

your lower lip juts out, glossy and pink. “Mommy it hurts.”

She bends low, pressing a kiss to your brow. The brush of her skin against yours makes you dizzy. It feels so good to be touched and loved like this. To feel someone touching your body so gently like it’s precious.

Who knows, maybe to them, you really are.

She nuzzles forward, her forehead finding yours. Her nose going that way then the other. Pecking your lips once, twice, and then again.

“I know pup, we’ll make it better.”

You whimper, and Tae sets your cheek against her thigh so that you can rest there through whatever happens next, one hand wraps around her ankle, and your other reaches back blindly to tangle with Hobi's.

Neither of them stops Yoongi. Neither of them tries to get in the way- it’s Yoongi’s right- as your mate- to do with you what he wishes during your heat. To fuck you this way and that. To take precedent and priority.

If only yoongi understood that.

Yoongi leans over you, letting his lap make contact with your ass, grinding forward almost immediately as you jerk back. You’ve never heard Yoongi sound so dark, his voice so rough.

“It’s so tough, isn’t it? Feeling so many instincts all at once huh? Being so small and scared right? You just wanted us to chase you, make sure we could catch you- make sure we’re worthy.”

He digs his fingers into your hip bones pressing you down into your knees. Your cheek turned to the side, nuzzling into the fabric of Tae's dress. You blink up at Tae dazed, eyes feasting on the way that her dress- flimsy and partially see-through- slips down her shoulders- pulled askew in your chasing.

From the hall- you hear the sound of groans and moans. You don’t know why your other nestmates don’t just come willingly. It feels so good, so soft and safe underneath you.

You didn’t think you could feel so safe.  

Gone is the instinct to run, gone is the instinct to hide and cower- now all you can do is whine and part your legs, the ache there so deep there you feel it in your teeth. But Yoongi grinds his half-hidden hardness where you’re needy and sensitive. The fabric of his boxers quickly darken with slick. He doesn’t go quick, he savors it.

The fact that Yoongi doesn’t have a knot doesn’t cross your mind. Not even once. He’s still the first one you want.

…not the only one you want of course, but him first.

Yoongi cannot actually read your thoughts, so he leans low, pressing kiss after kiss into your spine, dragging his lips down to the dimples of your hips before he rises back on his knees. A look so soft in his eyes- Hobi and Tae feel a bit like they’re intruding on something.

“Whose knot should you take first honey, Taetae’s, or Hobi's? Or do you want me to decide for you? Tell me who you want, honey- anything.” He promises, voice husky. And Tae can tell he means it. Anything that you’d want right now, he’d give.

You whimper, shaking your head against Tae’s hand, her touch, a finger-popping into your mouth to sate your need to suck. You can’t speak- couldn’t even if you wanted to. But that’s alright, you’ve got packmates to do that for you.

“I don’t think she wants either of us Hyung,” she says, hushed, gentle in her tone- nothing in it telling her how hurt she is or if she’s even hurt at all at not being chosen first. You don’t catch the way that Yoongi’s eyebrows raise, the way his cheeks heat.

For all of his dirty talk earlier, he is completely surprised that it’s him and not alpha and a knot that you ask for first.

Oh, how intimate it is to be needed like this.

You look up at him, shy but needy, you need him- oh how you need him- you couldn’t imagine feeling this way without him here. Couldn’t imagine it feeling so good without his touch. The press of his palm on the small of your back, the rub of his thumb against your rib. It’s so much. It's too much.

You tug one arm underneath you under your chest, the other hovering, holding Hobi's hand behind you blindly. Your fingers, his fingers tangled. You rest your cheek on Tae's thigh and look back as Yoongi shuffles forward. The elastic of his boxers pulled down his hips. The head of his cock pink and glossy with pre-cum.

There is some scuffling in the hall too, a high-pitched “please please please” that can’t be Jin. You’ve never heard him sound desperate like that. Hobi's hot breath dusts the back of your neck.

Your eyes flutter closed as one of Yoongi’s hands leaves your waist to guide his cock. Only to shoot open again. Gasping at the familiar prod.

The thickness is just right, his body heat and his heartbeat you can feel as he fills you more and more. The comfortable stretch that you’ve become so accustomed to. No pain now only pleasure that makes your body hum and tingle from your toes to the top of your head, hair standing on end.

Hair that Hobi pets over. Shushing your full body shivers and hiccups as Yoongi slides home gently. All the way in. Hips flush. Pushing out the rest of your lucidity as he slides in to the hilt.

From that moment on- your heat is a blur. A dizzying cocktail of pleasure, pain, and comfort. Descending down and down and down now that you’re safe. Now that your mate is here.

Yoongi slides all the way in without any resistance. You’re wetter and tighter than usual, so tight around him that he’s sure your clit twitches against the pillow with the strength of your clench. He takes a moment through your mewling to calm himself, certain that if he’s not careful, if moves even a little tiny bit, then he’s going to cum early and muck this all up.

The moment passes between one breath and the next. Yoongi’s hands tremble where they hold your waist. Thumbs rubbing circles on the small of your back, breathing heavily.

"Shh shh shhh little pup, there you go, just like that. So full huh? I know you're sensitive but that's what you needed, isn't it?"

He makes the mistake of looking up at Hobi, and then that’s almost all it takes. His lips are glossy, looking not at him but at the place where both of you connect. The wet hot gush of your cunt stretched around Yoongi’s thickness.

His eyes are so dark they reflect everything, the curve of your bodies, the paleness of Yoongi’s chest a bright speck on his eyes, as fleeting as any star. He licks his lips, barely resisting the temptation to rock forward into the pillow between his thighs.

Barely.

You gasp against Tae's thigh, but her eyes are dark and trained on the same spot. Her lower lip pinned between her teeth like a butterfly to a wall. Keeping a filthy-sounding growl at bay.

There is something about the narrowness of Yoongi’s waist in between your legs and the broadness of his shoulders that makes her feel a little bit crazy. Yoongi has always been beautiful in a way that is neither alpha nor omega. Strong in a way that is an attribute and not a chosen quality.

The gentleness in him is a choice as he pulls you back on his cock, one hand goes to your shoulder, and the other stays on your waist, pulling you back and forth on him. Mindful of everything. The hot squelch of you and the pleasure tugging firm in his gut is secondary to the gentle way he guides you. Gentle and slow but firm.

Yoongi's hand is on your shoulder. Your cheek on Tae’s inner thigh, Yoongi's knuckles brush the inside of Tae's thigh every time he forces you back on his cock. Every warm gasps brushes her skin and Yoongi’s knuckles.

She greatly enjoys this; watching and waiting for her turn. She might not mind waiting forever if it’s Yoongi doing the taking apart. Tae can put you back together later. They can go like that again and again and she’d never mind going second.

Tae picks your hair off your cheeks so that all of them can see your slack lips, your eyes half closed in bliss. Your breath comes out in little 'hng' sounds. Like a moan stuck in your throat.

Her mouth is dry, and you gasp against her thigh when Yoongi grinds deep and stays there. Testing the resistance of your body and marveling at how there isn’t any now. He can feel it deep inside; a place that’s usually impenetrable shifts open bit by bit as the heat settles in you. A little tightness just at the head of his cock that’s maddening.

Fuck, Namjoon will be able to reach there, Yoongi probably could with his fingers, if you hadn’t taken the contraceptive, Namjoon could have put his cock right there and-

It must be your hormones. It must be the mating mark. That must be why he’s so close to cumming so quick. Rocking inside, just to savor the feel of you.

There’s no one alive who's felt this, no one alive who knows what you taste or smell or feel like during your heat. Yoongi will savor this for a moment. Maybe forever.

If the others would only listen, would they let him linger for as long as he wants to? His end barrels past him, flush with the knowledge that it’s him, him making you pant and blush, him making you clench and drip and moan and-

Fucking hell- Yoongi’s almost going insane.

He cums like that, holding your hips flush to his for a handful of seconds, rocking through it, breathing heavily. But he doesn’t flag, doesn’t go soft, just keeps fucking you after a few seconds, cock twitching and throbbing hard.

Fuck. It's so wet and hot, he can feel his cum in you, feel the way it's kept warm and snug. His spend turns frothy around the base of his cock too quick as he sets about fucking you faster, endlessly craving more. The clench of your cunt is not quite enough to keep it from escaping without a knot.

It’s okay, you don’t need to worry about wasting it, Yoongi has more than enough. Yoongi usually doesn’t cum so much, but he’s so distracted by you that he doesn’t notice.

Tae and Hobi grin at him, nostrils flaring because they can scent Yoongi's cum on the air. They know. The feral curve of their teeth eggs Yoongi on. He's not pulling out and he's not stopping until your eyes roll back.

Your eyes go wide when you feel it, giggling softly and reaching down to touch your tummy. Nuzzling into Tae's thigh, as much as a response that they'll get. Your giggling cuts off with a broken hiccup as Yoongi starts up again.

Hobi's watching you, fringe in front of his eyes to the point where Yoongi can't read him. Doesn't have the mind to right now, wholly focused on you. 

But the tops of his cheeks are pink, and he can’t quite meet Yoongi’s eyes. On the other hand, Tae can’t look away from you, your hand gripping her thigh hard to hold yourself steady through the waves of pleasure and the brutal never ending breeding. Every time Yoongi juts forward, no matter how gentle. It feels like fire.

Out in the hallway someone snarls loud. You fall limp, clenching so hard that you all but force Yoongi out of you, he just laughs, deep and low, before guiding his cock back in. Not finished with you at all yet but not quite letting you cum.

Neither is the heat, licking at the back of your throat. He won't stop fucking you no matter how many times you almost cum, at least not until the fire ebbs. You hiccup, squirming.

"No pup, we're not done yet. Just a little more, just a little more and then you can cum, are you gonna make it pretty and squirt for me? I know mommy wants to see you all messy."

He’s jogged out of his reverie by the appearance of Tae's hands. Covering his, helping, pushing you back against his cock. Her eyes meeting his. You mewl blindly. Blinking away tears that Hobi pauses to wipe away.

Yoongi wishes she’d move so that he could duck down and kiss you. Is almost about to ask her to do just that so he can when she speaks.

“What does she feel like- what's it like?” Yoongi hisses, feeling his cock twitch, feeling you clamp down tighter in response to it. Aware that Tae can watch his stomach tremble on the exhale. Hobi looks away, a bit overwhelmed.

“She’s very-” Yoongi cuts himself off as you push back into him, intent on starting the fucking again. But the others soothe you. Stop your pushing, make you go slow. Thighs trembling, drawing out your pleasure. You mewl but it just gets shushed away by Tae. A mild scolding that just heats your blood further.

"Be good pup, I know you can wait and take your breeding like a good girl." She turns back to Yoongi, completely unfazed.

“Very very wet. She’s warming up. It's Hot.”

Hobi presses you down, hands on your shoulders, keeping you presented and at their mercy. There will be time for roughness and more roughhousing later. You keen at the harsh contact, the feeling of being pinned. Hoseok swallows so hard that the two of them can hear it, but Hobi's dominance is a fragile thing.

“Yeah, she is.” Hobi goes bright red, flushes, stutters. "I meant inside."

“I know what you meant.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lower lip. Hobi's cock jumps in his shorts partially at the embarrassment of his slip-up, and partially because when Tae leans to nuzzle she nips at his scent gland in reward.

Hobi likes this, being made to wait. Different than the way that Tae likes it. But if he stops to think about it he'll get insecure. So he lets the humiliation, the control, wrap around him like a blanket. These are the people he trusts to be vulnerable with. The people who decide when Hobi has a chance to knot or be knotted. Same as you.

How strange it is, to be equal to an omega in heat and a female omega no less. Hoseok is not used to this. Not the same way that he is with Jungkook and Jin and their heats.

It's good that the others are going first, to show Hobi that it's not scary. You peer up at him with unsure eyes. Like you're checking too. Hobi's anxiety is a low simmer. Barely there but not entirely gone. Threatening to flare should something trigger him.

You're not glaring at him, you're just looking. Eyeing him like you know he's anxious. Your hand twitches. And he moves to hold yours before he thinks better. You don't reach for his knot between his legs, already throbbing. You don't do anything but hold his hand, turning away from Tae's thigh briefly to nuzzle into your tangled fingers.

Tae's eyes are dark pools of honey. And her scent spikes, nice. You turn away from Hobi to resist the urge to bite his wrist. Pain and Hobi are not things that you want to put together. Pain and Hobi are things that your brain, even heat-addled, does not like to combine.

You press your face into Tae's thighs. Half under her skirt. Hiding there. Hiccuping, breathing heavy. Unaware of the dynamic emerging above you. She waits for another breath, watching Yoongi. The four of you go still.  

Below him, you start to hiccup. It's nice being filled, but you want Yoongi to move already. Your fist tangle in Tae's dress again. Eyes wide and staring blankly, And it’s like you can’t figure out where to grip, where to grab to keep yourself steady.

But all of this is very routine, if they keep you just there, on the edge. build you up and set you down gently, your eventual Orgasam will keep the next wave of heat at bay for a little longer and your body will have more time to recover. It's a balance, giving you what you want and what your body needs.

you mewl and cry below them, sniffling. you've never been denied before. you don't know why, with your tummy already hot and heavy with yoongi's cum, they're keeping you right on the edge.

Tae massages the back of your neck and you pant little mewling breaths against her thigh. it's not a scruff but it's close because a scruff might just make you cum.

You drag your teeth against her thigh when it gets too much, your cute little canines leave little red lines that vanish as soon as they’re there. Tae just coo’s down at you before flicking her eyes up at Yoongi. Waiting and expectant.

She cocks an eyebrow at him and inside of you, his cock twitches. “Were you going to move or….”

“Yeah- sorry,” Yoongi flushes at the momentary awkwardness, the same awkwardness that dissipates immediately as he starts fucking you again.

He’s thankful you’re so vocal. Drowning out the wet slaps and his own broken curses. You’re so wet- the slide is so easy. So good. Your little 'ah ah ah's are so melodic. Joining the chorus of Jungkook's yelps and Jin's snarls.

You’re being touched everywhere, Yoongi’s hands big on your hips, Hobi’s hand down your back, and Tae cradling your face telling you it’s going to be alright. Every touch stokes the fire to burn harder. You like being touched like this, casually while Yoongi has you. You’re close almost from it alone.

Between your legs you start to drip, first down the generous curve of Yoongi’s cock, then onto the nest below. Staining it with the evidence of your sweet surrender.

“There you go,” Hobi says, low and husky as you fall into a rhythm. Your cheek rests against Tae's thigh, panting openly, hiding a little under her skirt. Hobi's finger strokes over your cheek, and you turn away from the touch, not because you don't want it, but because it's embarrassing. Having them watch you so closely like this, at your most vulnerable.

“Awe, pups so shy huh?” Tae teases, and you nod, blinking away tears.

Tae says something far above you, something that sounds too suspiciously like a command, but it's not meant for you. Hobi's hands go to your face and turn you to where they can see you. His thumbs rub up your jaw, cupping your cheeks, and keep you from hiding away in Tae's skirt.

He doesn't say anything and he doesn't need to as your lower lip quivers. There is no one to hide from, no one here that wouldn't love all of you. There is no part of you, dark or pink or otherwise, that these three- Tae, Hobi, Yoongi- don't know yet and love anyway.

Above you sunlight hits Hobi’s hair, turning it red-brown golden. The light Falls on Tae's dress strap too, across Yoongi’s chest and the veins in his hands, throbbing with a heartbeat from here. And you are breathless breathless breath-

“Deeper want it-“

No sooner have you asked for it than is Yoongi adjusting his position. Barely pausing at his steady pace as he hooks an elbow under your knee, all but picking your hips up so he can fuck into you at a punishing pace. The weight of your body pushes him deeper. Hitting a new place inside of you that’s so sensitive you tremble. Popping through some hidden resistance.

Yoongi keeps it steady, not stopping when you gasp, when you drip below you, hitting his legs as you soak the nest below you. Christening the heat nest with the first wave. Your first orgasm that only builds, a first peak that promises another. You gush a little, squirt a little more, every time yoongi slides into you to the hilt.

From this angle you’re completely unable to push back against it. Even less in control and at the mercy of the pace Yoongi sets faster and faster. Carving out a new feeling in you with every thrust. A space in your tummy just for Yoongi, warm and tight and perfect. Pleasure but also hunger for more more and more.

Any other day the wet sounds of your pussy clenching hopelessly around his cock would make him shy- but now all Yoongi can do is give you more. Chasing his building pleasure. A second climax that is stronger than the first. Building you up to your relief as quickly and as gently as he can.

You can’t remember your last heat, the handful of them that you had with Geumjae, you think you were left alone for most of it. You know it wasn’t anything like this.

Hobi pauses and reaches to touch your stomach.

Your eyes shoot open, looking up at him and the half-hardness tenting in his pants. because of you. for you.

Yoongi and you are honest to God so pretty when you fuck. Hobi hasn’t seen this too much before. Sure- little hints of it here and then. both of you tumbling out of the nest room looking sleepy and sated, He's seen Yoongi's hands wander or your touch linger. But this is-

Yoongi is so gentle with you but also firm. Dominant in a way that takes Hobi's breath away and makes his head feel fuzzy. Forcing you back on his cock, punching little “ah ugh’s” from your throat. So gentle in the way that he takes you apart. unyeilding in the pleasure he demands from you.

And the dirty talk-

"Right there yeah? That's the spot that you like isn't it? cute little omega you're doing so well. So cute, don't worry, i'll give you everything you need. I know, it's so much right? It's not too much, i know you can take it, thats my girl- there just like that."

Hobi's going to go insane, Hobi's going to cum in his pants before he's even gotten inside of you. just from the sound of Yoongi's rough voice. husky from the effort. He's already wet, the front of his boxers turning dark from it. Knot already half popped just from watching and-

Tae pulls at your hair, making your neck arch so she can wipe a bit of drool from the corner of your mouth. Cooing, touching your tongue where it lolls out obscene and cute at the same time. Hobi strokes over your stomach, saying nothing, just watching.

He hopes you can’t feel the tremble in his hands or the rapid thunder of his heart or smell his arousal. His hardness, prominent enough that if there weren’t blankets, you’d be able to see. Your eyes are glassy and wide as Yoongi breeds you, Hobi physically sees the haze descend as you get closer and closer to Cumming. Cheeks and chest flushed and pretty. Your eyes flutter closed. Hobi's hands are still on your cheeks. Tae has the same idea.

Your lips open in a perfect little oh. Yoongi thrusts forward particularly hard, and the wet squelch is filthy enough that he almost looks away. Tae's voice is a deep purr.

“Don’t close your eyes honey, I wanna see.” Yoongi laughs at Tae, Teeth gritting.

“Fucking.” Yoongi pants, driving his hips faster. “Bratty” his pace falters, “Alpha.” Tae's pink lips stretch in a smile.

Tae pets through your hair. And it’s gentle but somehow more ruthless that all they do is watch. You’d blush, but your blood is already hot from the heat.

You sob and Yoongi’s face cracks into a grin. “That’s it, there you go for us, cum for me-”

It builds and builds until you’re right on the edge, you stumble over it when the second wave of Yoongi's cum turns your insides hot. That and the barest touch of Hobi's fingers against your clit that has you clenching wildly around him, clenching too hard, almost forcing his cock out if it weren’t for the way he puts his weight behind his next thrust with a broken groan.

Your ears fill with a ringing sound. High-pitched, mind blank. Staring up at Tae without really seeing her. Going just a tiny bit cross-eyed. Just for a second.

When you finally stop seeing stars. Tae is smiling down at you lazily. A satisfied smirk on her face.

Your slick drips down your midline, just a little. You usually get very very wet when the pack gives you proper attention, in heat- your usually slick production is amped up. If you could feel anything right now, you'd be embarrassed.

The world is a collection of sensations. The ringing in your ears. Yoongi's kiss against your mating mark. The sensitivity of your body against the nest; the fabric damp beneath your belly as they turn you onto your back to wipe up your stomach. The blankets replaced. Someone mentions something about getting towels for the next wave and where did Jinnie put them? In the closet or out in the hall?

They set you down gently. Yoongi stretches your leg out straight and makes sure it doesn’t cramp.

There is a drop of water on the end of your nose. You're crying.

Yoongi doesn't move from between your legs, he stays inside. Because an alpha wouldn't move after breeding an omega, wouldn't be able to take their knot out. Yoongi is accustomed enough to omega's in heat to know when to move and when not to. He'll rest here, in your warmth and wet and mess until you tell him to move.

But still, it’s not enough. You cry, cheeks wet, unsure why exactly. The hunger and rabid wanting animal in you is not quiet. The fever does not ease. It hardly even goes down.

Hobi sits up, nervous, about to go bother Namjoon, knotting or not. The hair on the back of Yoongi’s neck stands up. But Tae shushes both of them rubbing your tears away, bending low to kiss them until she moves you off of her lap.

You barely register Hobi's husky voice. “Did so well, so good ug-omega.”  Hobi's flush and his shyness escape your notice. But you do peer up at him, lips pressed to the meat of his thumb. Mumbling, sleepy and sniffly. 

“Good? Not scary? Not hurts?” You ask, your words a little scrambled from the heat.  

He leans low to kiss your brow. Lingering there for a second, leaving his lips there. Make eye contact with Yoongi over the top of your head. Looking sweaty and victorious and a little bit like he’s gloating as he shakes his long hair out of his eyes. Tae's hand splays on his stomach, bullying up behind him, saying something filthy into his ear, before she swirls her fingers through his tummy hair and then reaches lower.

“Not scary at all.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Your breath hitches, You feel something prod at your sensitive entrance. Something bullying its way in next to Yoongi. The stretch burns but it feels so good. It’s the itch you needed to scratch, the last thing your body was missing. It quiets the fire in you, the flames of wanting ebbing.

You don’t even register that it’s Tae's fingers, sneaking in next to Yoongi and holding you open a little, curling just a bit to simulate the stretch of a knot and press against the scent gland in your pussy, close to your special little spot. Has she had to do this before for Jungkook and Jin? Is this a normal predicament for Yoongi? What does it feel like to have Tae's fingers by his cock and you so warm and wet outside?

Yoongi's pants, pants as Tae…sort of holds his cock while it's in you. He gives a faint twitch and she laughs behind him, hardness pressing against the curve of his hip. Forgotten about it for now.

The extra stretch calms your instincts and the fever ebbs a little. Your sweat cools. Your heart rate slows. Eyelids heavy, starting to get sleepy.

“Thanks Tae.”

You hear the sound of kisses, slow and sloppy as you doze. Comforted by the stretch at your entrance and Yoongi’s cock. You collect moments like seashells. Hobi sprawling out, more relaxed than before. Hand combing through your hair gently. Careful not to snag.

Tae's knees accidentally pressing against your hips. Yoongi strokes up and down your stomach, your sides, everywhere. Your hands pulled to your chest. Unable to focus on anything other than how full and filled you feel. Bred and taken. Claimed by the mark on your throat and the warmth in your tummy. All full, finally full.

The stretch makes you feel a little better- makes the need not quite so frantic. It can wait for later, the need for the others tearing through you. You can take this moment of peace right now.

your mind drifts, the seconds and minutes drifting away.

Warmth comes and goes, There is someone holding a straw with a cup to your lips. Hobi is along your front, half sitting up. The glass is dewy with condensed water. His hands damp.

Was he just standing up? Did he go to the kitchen and leave the safety of the nest just to give you some water, that's so lovely and so sweet. Your instincts tell you that you should let Hobi pup you for that.

As a treat.  

You know you won't be awake for long, your thoughts are slippery to hold onto at best. Yoongi rests inside of you and doesn’t pull out. he Lets you cockwarm him and keeps you filled even though he’s going just a little soft. Tae pulls her fingers out once your fever goes down, ebbing until your body temperature returns to a stable baseline and the next wave no longer threatens to flare.

Hobi pokes the straw against your lip, and you suck blindly, obediently. Without opening your eyes. Non-verbal. They’re talking- you register dimly. You don't need to be concerned with what they say, you know they'll look after you regardless of if you're listening.

You rub your cheek against Tae's thighs. You love her thighs, they're so soft and warm. You hope you get to spend all of your heat like this, your head propped up in Tae's lap.

Well…maybe not all of your heat. You'd also like to sit in her lap too, preferably with her knot inside of you. But that can wait, she’s not going anywhere and you’ll make sure of it.

Your fever flares as your heat-addled thoughts run rampant, eyes closed and scent sweetening. It garners the attention of your pack, falling quiet above you.

“Do you think-” There is a hand on your face, your cheek, feeling you for fever. Tae's chipped fingernail polish flashes in the light.

“Not yet. We've got like, half an hour probably? Maybe a bit less?”

The slapping sounds in the hallway have finally quieted and the sound of your pack omega’s purring lulls you into a soft state. Your eyes flutter closed. Jinnie will be here soon, Jinnie is purring so you should purr too.

You fall back asleep, the rumbling in your chest a light lullaby. Above you, your packmates go calm and quiet.

"She smells so calm, it's so- it's so-" Tae rubs down Yoongi’s side, but Yoongi doesn’t look up. Looking down at you, eyes full of some unreadable emotion that is actually not unreadable only because they know Yoongi so well, his breath comes quicker, and he blinks quick.

Lowering his body, getting as close to you as possible. But he doesn’t relax, doesn’t blink so as to not miss a single moment looking down at you. Hand on either side of your body, depressing the nest. Your purring peters off as you actually fall asleep but- but-

Crouched over you, you don't even stir. Your chest rises up and down. Evenly. You nap without worry.

Hobi wants to tell him it’s alright. And it is alright if he needs to cry. Hoseok understands. Sometimes getting what you want finally- the person you love healthy and happy- Can bring up a happy sort of sadness.

Sadness, unfortunately, has its way of sticking around.

You doze below Yoongi, completely unworried and unburdened by any of it, and what a lovely lucky thing that is. For a single moment, Yoongi wishes that nothing would change. That you’d never leave this room and stay just like this. Happy and safe and satisfied forever.

He hovers, lingers in the moment. Tae and Hobi hold him. Letting him process it for a breath or two. The moment will end whether Yoongi wants it to or not.

Tae and Hobi don’t bring it to your attention and you slumber on, unaware. Gently pausing, getting up, abdominal muscles straining. Each of them presses a kiss to either side of your mate's face. Silent in their loveing but Yoongi finds it no less reassuring.

The next time you blink away the haze you can see evening yellow streaming through the window. Casting all of your loves in honey shadows. You don’t think to count for bodies, you’re too focused on the task in front of you.

The very very big task in front of you.

Your instincts sniff it out like blood on easy prey. Your cheek is still on Tae's lap. And there is a scent a few inches from you that makes your fever spike again. Your eyes flutter open and you see it.

Her hardness is right there, poking up through the translucent fabric of her dress. Flush with her stomach and visibly pink and hard. Barely contained by her panties in a way that you know must be uncomfortable.

Tae has such a pretty cock, such an unfairly pretty dick. No doubt, she's still hard because of your heat hormones. Hard and thick and lovely bulging in her skirt. Just looking at it makes your eyes water, your tongue feels slippery and hungry in your mouth.

You start to shuffle forward only to be momentarily distracted by movement in the door.

It’s a little comical the sight of someone so small carrying your big buff omega. Jiminie handles Jungkook like he’s nothing, like he hardly weighs more than a pillow. both of Jimin's hands underneath his knees. Jungkook's arms loosely wrapped around the alpha's neck, kept snug against his front.

Jungkook looks blissed out and dazed. His strong neck and shoulders are bitten up and dotted with red semi-circles. His chest is too- at least from what you can see of it. He's bundled up so close to Jimin's chest, it almost makes his usually muscular form look small. He's probably feeling small and omegaspacy like you are.

He's still knotted to Jiminie judging from the tender and careful way that Jimin carries him.

Jimin deposits both of them in the nest without any unintentional pulling or unknotting the omega. You perk up a little, chin balanced on Tae's knee to watch. Hobi cranes his body, bending backward without getting up, twisting and reaching so that he can get his hand in Jungkook’s hair.

“How is he?”

“Little fucker tried to bite my knot.” Tae giggles, her tummy makes her cock jiggle. You’re so close. All you have to do is press your mouth to the fabric and it will practically be inside. Your tongue is already pushing out and-

She shuffles away, every inch a heartbreak. You are too tired to chirp.

She reaches back mirroring Hobi's position, long chestnut hair spilling in the nest, arching her back and looking at both Jimin and Jungkook upside down so she can tangle her hands in Jungkook’s raven-dark hair. So that her other hand can settle on Jimin’s calf. Sporting several bite marks of his own.

You're too tired to whine or chirp to get her attention. But across the nest, Jungkook shifts. Restless.

“Do we need to muzzle you like we muzzle Joonie, Koo?”

Koo has little more than a huff in response. Uncharacteristically tired after being thoroughly put through his paces by Jimin. But it’s only the first wave, and like I said, hormones take a while to build

For everyone, not just omegas.

Whatever quiet moment Jin and Namjoon are having in the hall comes to an end as Namjoon carries him in, bridal style and no longer knotted to the pack alpha. Not all of you can be as dexterous as Jimin is. Jin doesn’t look like he minds, happy to be placed next to you. Taking Hobi's spot or close to it. It's almost like Namjoon puts Jin on top of your little puppy pile.

It's where Jinnie wants to be, on top of his pups.

Namjoon’s hands linger, but only just, he stands up straight but then ducks down to run his fingers through Yoongi’s hair, messing it up.

“Oh, my fucking god-” Yoongi says, a little incredulous. Already flushing even though Namjoon hasn't even spoken yet.

“Proud of you,” Namjoon says. A grin that is ever so slightly hassling on his face.

Yoongi's cheeks and ears go splotchy. “I’m fucking my mate Jonnie, it’s not something I need a participation trophy for.”

“We could get you one- engrave it ‘best cock in the fucking world’ or something. whatever you want.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“I was hoping you’d take it as some light flirting, but I’ll take what I can get.”

“I’m literally still inside of our omega and you want to flirt with me?” He’s more perplexed than he is annoyed. He looks a bit like a fluffed-up cat, astounded to realize the toy he's been caught playing with is, in fact, plastic and not a mouse.

Beside you, Hoseok flushes and you know it has everything to do with Yoongi calling you ‘ours’ and not just ‘mine’. Namjoon got the job done. Yoongi is no longer looking down at you like he might cry.

“He called your cock great; I think that hardly classifies it as ‘light’” Tae says.

“Guys, I am literally still-“

Jimin pushes Jungkook to the side, all so that he can grind his knot in again, deep, still not going down enough to pull out. The omega lets out a choked whine, at Jimin’s mercy. “I am too- never stopped me.” He turns to Tae. Hips rocking in circles. Absent-minded.

Jungkook tangles a fist in the nest and takes it with sweet little 'hng' noises. “That dress is honestly-“ Jimin trails off, Jungkook lets out an aborted whine at the pulsing in Jimin’s knot.

Tae just raises her eyebrow at him. If Jimin wasn’t red before he is now, especially once her eyes flick down to where he’s knotted to Jungkook. Pushing at his streached rim. Little cock helplessly weepy. His abdominal muscles faintly glossy from drying slick.

Yoongi splutters and you smile against Tae's thigh. Purring your agreement with Jimin. Now if only your hands would cooperate in taking off her dress or at least hike it up-

But Jinnie shuffles over. Still a little non-verbal in Omegaspace, just like you and Kookie. But to the point where his sentences are broken but sure, said with a pout and a command.

“Needed to check, needed to make sure." The others move for the pack omega, parting like the river over a stone. you don't immidatly register it, letting out a petulant whine when yoongi starts to move away.

Jinnie touches your tummy gently, delicate in the way that he sets palm against flesh. Finding it swollen and heavy. Perfectly soft and delicate. He touches you like someone would touch a flower, worried about the slightest brush too bruising.

You’re momentarily distracted by it. The warm heat of Jin’s palm, the flushed pout to his lips and cheeks. Pretty- your pack omega is so pretty in heat. You look up at him, sprawled. Yoongi twitches hardening inside of you as Jinnie bends low to nose at your stomach. Dark hair tickling your belly button.

Jin presses his nose just above your waistline and sniffs deep. when he breathes out it's a purr. Loud and satisfied.

He picks himself up and looks down at you with eyes that reflect no light, no anything. Dark and round like stones. "Bred omega, good packmate, good-"

Outside a bird putters close to the window. Jimin’s head jerks in it’s direction. Taught body relaxing the second he realizes it. Namjoon blinks down at you and Jin slowly.

Yoongi is still somewhat hard but pulling out, and even though it's been 30 minutes since you came, it still garners him a small mewl of displeasure from your throat. He doesn’t let any of his cum slip out. Forcing the little that does come out back in with the tips of his fingers.

but jin needs to see, needs to check, he pulls apart the dewy folds of your cunt with his fingers, nuzzling with his nose, you're so sensitive you jerk, all but mewling when he dares to lap at your entrance. soothing where you got stretched. happy to find you unharmed.

You twitch and tremble. Above you, Tae laughs.

Jin's voice is a deep hiss. "More- more not yet."  He rubs his face into your stomach and thighs once more, makeing sure you're scent marked, that the alpha's who defile you will be able to smell him on you before they knot you. before he gets up on his knees and scents them. Hobi first, then Tae, then Yoongi.

He might get a little bit of your slick on them, his cheeks wet in patches with it. it's a little goss but honestly, Jin doesn't notice.

"Good pups. Best pups"

Above all of you, Joonie looks on fond. His knot is still half-inflated at the base of his cock. Still hard and achy and yummy, looking entirely too large to be real. As is normal. Everyone is bare besides your trio that helped you through your first wave and as you realize this, Jin tugs at Hobi's boxers. Displeased.

But you are not paying much attention to Hobi and Jin, still looking at Namjoon. At his knot between his legs. You clench down hard when you look at it, Yoongi’s fingers direct your gaze back up to him. Raising his eyebrows almost in challenge.

Namjoon's scent thickens on the air, but so does Tae's

Hobi ducks away at Jin’s attention and Jin won't let him rest, sniffing at the hollow of his throat, all but backing Hobi up against a wall. Like Jin’s worried he doesn’t believe him. “Best pups” he repeats again, like he's worried hobi doesn't belive him.

 “We haven’t even done anything yet-”

“Still. Best. Pups.”

You turn to Hobi, whining, and finally breaking your eye contact and the weird half-tension between you, Namjoon, and your mate. Namjoon finally gets off his feet. Sinking into the nest and shuffling up behind Jin, half pinning him to the nest. Distracting him from quite literally herding Hobi by pawing at his legs. Jinnie has pretty legs, strong thighs and muscular calves. They part when Namjoon prods, more instinct than conscious choice.

Namjoon's hands shift the pack omega's legs apart and start to guide his cock back, not for another round but maybe for comfort. Perhaps he's been influenced by Yoongi's cockwarming to soothe. (That's a nice idea, isn't it? All of their omega's warm and bred full, all at once). Obviously trying to settle whatever instincts are currently rocking through Jinnie.

But Jin makes a noise, alarmed and not entirely interested.

Namjoon is already half inside but he pulls Jin off his cock anyway. His knot falls, heavy and wet with slick and spend against his thigh. He sets Jin down. “Fuck.” The pack omega throws his head back against the nest and blinks away his daze the same moment that Jungkook sighs and pushes back against Jimin before the elder of the two finally pulls his knot free with a gentle hiss.

You assume, more than see- as Namjoon’s hand finds its way between Jin’s thighs to push his spend back into the omega’s hole. You still don’t know how Jin manages to take Namjoon unprepped- even inside of heat.

A whine starts to build while you look at it, how are you supposed to choose?

“Wanna switch?” Namjoon offers reading the pack omega in the way that only sort of soulmates do. You perk up, trying to push yourself onto your palms unsuccessfully.

Jin nods, messy hair fluffing. “Too sleepy, can’t sleep on your knot, s’too-” Jin licks his lips, eyes darting down to look at it. “-Distracting.”

Jimin’s hand is already on Jinnie’s ankle and Jk sits up on his hands and knees. He and Tae make eye contact and before you know it he’s shuffling over to her and she’s starting to shift.

It’s casual like that- your alpha’s talking about which omega to breed next and who needs it most. You’re the only one still blissed out and at ease. Maybe just because you had three packmates to settle you and they only had two.

But you don’t like it. The way that Tae moves away from you.

Your attention ping-pongs back and forth from Namjoon to Tae. Completely unaware of the pack alpha's dark eyes on you. The thing about omega's in heat is that they're a little bit dumb.

Jungkook watches you move, watches Tae jostle you. Pupils dilating in alarm. His own pleasure momentarily forgotten. Your hands tighten on Tae's thighs, a needy whine building in your throat.

“Wait- my mommy- mine-” You chirp. But Tae is already moving away.  

And before the others can even breathe Jungkook is jerking in Tae's direction. Lip lifted in a soundless snarl, answering your call first. The quickest.

“Kookie don't you dare.” "omega." “Wait don’t-”

Jk is quicker and stronger in heat. Too quick for Jimin to grab him or for namjoon to dive. He jolts, but at the last second you curve your arm over Tae's hip and his teeth hit you and not her. Hissing and spluttering, a smarting pain that honestly to God shocks you.

Jungkook’s teeth are still embedded in your skin as you look down. Cheeks hot, eyes wide. the rest of the pack falls silent. A bit stunned. But Jungkook just hurtles on, crouching over you and growling and hissing. Jungkook’s nose presses hard into your cheek as he bares his teeth. Licking them. glaring up at tae. “My pup- mine- alpha bad- alpha made omega sad-”

Tae lets out a crushed sound, upset.

Namjoon wastes no time, the first one to move after being shocked still. Getting up on his knees only to drag Jungkook back and away from you. Drawing him over his lap in quick succession, landing several swats over his ass. hard and loud. landing one over his cock for good measure and jungkook folds, breathing heavy. After the third hit to his cock, Jungkook’s yelps become moans.

Namjoon gives him no mercy when he pulls him onto his cock in one fluid movement, not bothering to prep him. Jungkook likes the sting, the stretch. Eyes rolling back.

Tae pulls you up onto her lap. Her cock trapped between your stomach and hers. But she’s not looking at your face but at your wrist. Yoongi shuffles behind you, inspecting it tilting it gently so that the red marks catch the light and they can see the damage jungkook did.

Your skin already already going purple and dark from a bruise.

“Are you alright- are you-” You are not worried about the pain in your arm, only the searing need between your legs. Tae has you in her lap, right where you want to be (unless?). You fumble with her skirt. Tearing it this way and that, hungry and insistent.

Her knot- you need her knot. You grind your hips together hot and filthy. Your pussy against her cock, her dress trapped between both of you. The fabric is rough even though you can feel her body heat through it.

“Mommy- mommy please-”

The room spins, and you're so dizzy you can't even think straight. Jungkook biting you must have sent you hurtling into your next wave of heat, which is not good. Not good at all. If your spikes are too close together at the beginning of your heat then they just won't end at all. A prolonged fever is too dangerous.

She barely pauses before she pulls up the hem to her skirt, letting her cock- pink-tipped and pretty- pop free of the honestly tiny panties, the bow at the front crumpled. You rub against it, turning it wet. The fire flows, sparking hotter and hotter and hotter. She grabs your hips, alarmed.

But Yoongi grabs your waist. Keeps you from putting it inside your hole, clenching around nothing, empty. You wail. You want it. Yoongi tucks his chin over your shoulder, hands running up and down your sides to try and soothe you.

"Wait little honey, let's get mommy nice and wet like this first." He guides you like that, to rub your cunt up and down Tae's length, every push of the head of her cock through your pussy makes you moan and twitch, wetter and wetter. Tae looks down, and it's not just your slick, but Yoongi's spend wetting her cock. Creamy, milky white tinged clear. Fuck.

at the base of her cock, her knot skin feels tighs and swollen, you rub low, getting it nice and wet too.

Yoongi does not let you go further, does not let you put in. his voice is husky in your ear.

"I want you to cum like this before you have her, you have to show Mommy how messy you get just from this, have to show her you're good for a knot too. A big pretty cock like that won't fit in unless you're nice and wet okay honey? You're too tiny to take it without cumming first and besides-" yoongi hesitates.

"don't you want to show them? jinnie and joonie and kookie?"

You nod, eyes glassy. Outside of heat, you might not believe him but right now Yoongi's words are gospel. At least your fever stops it's climbing, it doesn't get any better, but it doesn't get any worse. yoongi heaves a sigh of relief.

You really are unable to choose when you're in heat like this. It's not just useless talk. It really should be left up to Yoongi or the others, or else you'll hop from knot to knot, the heat fever frying your body and brain.

When you look over, Jungkook rides Namjoon. Facing you and pouting. Parting his legs so that you can see where they join. Mumbling something unintelligible that the others can’t make out. But your packmates keep you separated on opposite sides of the nest.

Behind him you hear the hush. “Is Koo? Rejecting her?” they hardly dare risk saying it out loud. “I don’t think so.” But still, the pack is not quite sure what just happened. why jungkook tired to bite you after tae moved away from you.

Deep in Jungkook’s chest, his instincts sing. My pup, alphas need to stay next to my pup, the pup needs pretty alpha. But words remain as effervescent as lucidity, the words just out of reach

Tears hover at the edge of your waterline, across the nest Jungkook watches you, sniffling too. Every time he even thinks of squirming away from Namjoon’s knot to get to you the alpha pulls him back onto it. After a few thrusts, Jungkook is too heat-addled to think straight. Too fucked up to glare at you (he's not glaring, he's staring at you with determination.)

In the nest still lying prone, Jin yawns, stretching out, toes curling. Showing off his cum stained tummy, his flushed cheeks, and the pretty round curve of his body. Raising his eyebrows at the alpha’s in your nest.

Your nest. Yours’s, Jin’s and Jungkook’s. Full of your pretty alpha’s with their pretty knots. 

Tae's cock rubs up between your legs, head bumping against your clit and you jerk, only to be met with Yoongi's sushing.

It's so different to have them so close, to have them fucking right here close to you. You're almost more interested in watching Jungkook and Namjoon fuck than you are in getting fucked by Tae. Almost. Your body grids forward unbidden. Eager even if your mind is hazy.

Jin's a bit more lucid (the three of you share a single brain cell in heat, and Jin will keep it in his front pocket for the foreseeable future.) Your packmates sit at attention watching as Jin parts his honey thighs just a little in invitation. His cheeks are rosy as he raises an eyebrow at them.

“Well? Who’s next?”

Three hands shoot into the air. Then after a moment, you shakily raise your hand too.

~-~

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

Notes:

part of me did not like the intro of this chapter like at all, almost deleted all of it so many times but? it's so hard putting so much effort into parts of this series that i know will probably never see the light of the final version and then choosing to delete them, like yes the wordcount might be high and this stuff might be a little wordy but? people always wanted more of bily so even months later i'll give it to them.

so i re-read a really good fanfic that was set in like, victorian/viking stuff? and it totally altered my brain chemistry and i feel as though i was writing in a way thats a bit more like, old timey? maybe you can tell because i felt like this chapter was alot more like- flowy than usual.

honestly i'm super proud of the line "Flip-flopping until Jungkook can’t tell if it hurts too much to keep going or if it feels too good to stop." like ugghhhhhhhh thats a good one.

also the line 'each nickname more loving than your own name.' was a very very small refrence to call me by your name, just a little. i do think that the m/c is not very comfortable with her own name, or your name- whatever that may be like- it's very clear that i avoid using y/n as much as possible. i think it appears in the story a good like 10 times after almost a million words? (i double checked and it in fact appears 21 times in the entire story- thats actually mind boggling to me tbh)

the part where yoongi is talking about how healthy the m/c looks was directly inspired by a conversation i had with @trifoliumrex because her ideas are always always so impossibly good i can't resist putting them into the story.

if it's not clear, yoongi is definitly feeling the effect of the m/c's addictive slick and her hormones, he is equally as heat addled as the pack is, he's just never felt the true effects of an omega in heat before because he's never been mated to the person in heat so yeah- it's the mating mark! this won't be the last time we see him acting like an alpha because of the marks.

yoongi *his cock almost in the m/c* so who you fuckin? m/c: the fuck? you?

can we just apreciate how ridicilously hot it is that tae's tiddies jiggle when she growls like??? fuck me right?

now personally i love woumb fucking but i know it's not everyones cup of tea so i hope i skirted by it just perfectly

that moment where yoongi is talking about how there's no one alive whose felt her in heat is a direct dig at geumjae. yoongi does hate him a lot you know- even if he couldn't kill him.

i am so soft for boys that cum too quick but also have no refractory period like i am so into it it almost makes me feel like i'm not a lesbian. i think it's so /cute/.

tbh, i think it's actually fucking adorable how it's thoughts of namjoon penetrating the m/c that has yoongi cuming too soon. like fuck he's so into how namjoon fucks her and how big his cock is- do we think yoongi has a size kink and that that itch is scratched by namjoon fucking her? like just imagine at the begining it was namjoon fucking yoongi that got him off and then he goes out and gets a mate thats even smaller than him who could hardly take namjoon's cock at the begining...ugh i love that.

(tmi but) i always end up subconciously edging myself when i write smut chapters because obviously this is all stuff i'm into and i've got to sit and finish it and wait to like... take care of myself until after i'm finished or else my interest in writing goes away immideatly. i just know that if mommy tae where here she'd make me cockwarm her while i write the chapter and that is a fantasy i'm going to reward myself with later.

i think that this chapter sounds and feels alot different because the process was so drawn out and so much different than other chapters because i had to pause.

i realized while editing this that i needed more of hobi in it so! i hope you enjoy how the wordcount jumped!

yoongi is so horny but also hopelessly sentimental in this my god.

the m/c is so dumb and horny in this chapter like what do you mean she wants namjoon and tae's knot both at the same time? like she can't even take one of those at once without prep normally let alone both-

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1974 - ...but it was never meant to be

chapter summary: You and Logan have been living in the Canadian Rockies for almost 6 months, enjoying the peace and solitude that comes with it.

word count: 8.9k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: this is just fluff, at least until the end... but we're finally hitting the movies! and sorry for it being a bit shorter than the others, there are some ideas i'm saving for a future chapter :))

(p.s. the first sentence about the hotel in nyc is going to be very important to remember for a future chapter...)

warnings/tags: fluff, origins!logan, smut, oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, (beginning of) x-men origins, character death

series masterlist - chapter 5 → chapter 7

Leaving was easy once you got past the one incident. You and Logan had stopped that day at a hotel a bit out of New York City only to be found by your father’s men.

But what happened was almost like magic. Logan, your Logan, took them all out with claws. At first you were bewildered, shocked at what you just saw. But now, after 6 months of living in the Canadian Rockies, it was normal.

Normal.

Mornings would start with the soft light streaming through the windows, casting a warm glow over your shared space as Logan brewed coffee and you stretched, enjoying the easy comfort of it all.

Logan had found work quickly enough as a lumberjack, something that kept him outside and busy, and it suited him. Meanwhile, you’d stumbled upon a small animal shelter in the nearby town. You’d started going once or twice a week, helping out with the dogs and occasionally picking up shifts to keep yourself busy and connected to some semblance of normal life.

The routines you fell into together were quiet, steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt grounded. Though you missed New York sometimes, especially the volunteer work at the retirement home, the silence of the woods and the small town was a peaceful change.

Not only were things peaceful, but Logan had started opening up to you in the quiet of your cabin, usually in the early morning or after one of his nightmares. It started with little things—details about his mutation, his healing ability. Then, as the days blurred into weeks, he told you about his age and the wars he’d fought in, his voice quiet, words weighed down with old memories.

One chilly morning, you found him staring out the window, his gaze distant as he sipped his coffee. You moved up beside him, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Hey, you alright?”

He looked down at you, a flicker of a smile breaking through the shadows. “Yeah. Just… thinkin’,” he murmured, his voice rough but calm.

“Anything you want to talk about?” you offered, watching his face closely.

Logan considered this for a moment, then took a long breath. “I think… just realizin’ how long it’s been since I had somethin’ like this,” he finally admitted, a glint of honesty in his eyes. “It’s been a hell of a road, darlin’.”

You reached out, resting your hand on his forearm. “I don’t need to know everything, Logan. I’m just glad you’re here now.”

He gave a short nod, letting his hand rest over yours, a simple gesture that spoke volumes. He didn’t say anything, but his fingers wrapped around yours, holding them a moment longer than necessary.

---

Life in the cabin wasn’t extravagant, but there was a certain charm in the simplicity. Nights spent by the fire, mornings with the scent of pine and fresh coffee, and the comforting weight of Logan’s arm draped over you as you both drifted into sleep. But there were also the little bumps—like the time you tried making him dinner.

It had been a stew recipe, something you thought would be foolproof. You’d stirred, added spices, tasted… but when you served it, the look on Logan’s face was priceless.

He took a spoonful, eyebrows lifting as he held back a chuckle. “This a new recipe?”

“Okay, I get it—it’s not great,” you sighed, laughing a little as you took a bite yourself. “Alright, yeah, maybe it’s terrible.”

Logan chuckled, setting his spoon down. “It’s not so bad. I mean… it’s got heart.”

You nudged him, rolling your eyes. “Heart doesn’t mean it’s edible, Logan.”

“Maybe not,” he smirked, “but I’ll still eat it.” He winked, lifting another spoonful as he pretended to struggle through the bowl, making you burst into laughter.

---

Late one night, Logan awoke from one of his nightmares. You knew, even before he’d fully come to, just by the way he stiffened beside you. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face, and you reached out, fingers brushing his shoulder.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you whispered.

He looked down at you, the muscles in his jaw tight. But after a moment, he nodded. “It was a long time ago. Just old ghosts.” He paused, exhaling heavily. “There’s been a lot of violence. Stuff… I don’t ever want you to have to see.”

“I know you’ve seen a lot,” you murmured, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. “But you don’t have to go through it alone, Logan. Not anymore.”

Logan’s hand covered yours, and he turned his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes soft but searching. “You’ve been more than I deserve, Y/N,” he said quietly.

Your heart twisted, and you reached up to cup his face. “Logan, I don’t care what you’ve done or where you’ve been. All that matters is who you are now.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. “Then I’m one lucky man,” he whispered, his voice low.

He held you close that night, your presence calming the echoes of a past that seemed finally willing to rest, if only for a while.

---

One day you were trying to make something simple, roast chicken and potatoes before Logan got back from work. You diligently checked the oven, making sure that nothing was burning, until Logan came home, wrapping his arms around your waist as you stood up from the oven.

Logan’s hands settled warmly around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he looked over at the oven. The familiar, steady weight of him grounded you, even as you felt your heart give a quick little skip at the simple, domestic gesture.

“Smells good in here,” he murmured, his breath brushing your ear as he took in the scent of roasting chicken and herbs. “Didn’t know you were this fancy in the kitchen.”

You let out a small laugh, shrugging one shoulder. “Fancy might be a stretch. I’m just hoping it doesn’t come out dry.”

His arms tightened just a bit, pulling you closer. “Even if it did, I’d still eat it,” he said, a hint of that playful glint in his voice. “Means a lot, havin’ you here. Feels like… home.”

A warmth rose in your chest, one that went beyond the physical, and you leaned back into him, a smile tugging at your lips. “You know, I could get used to this too.” You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. “Long days, quiet dinners, just us.”

“Us,” he echoed, his voice softer, thoughtful. There was a flicker of something deeper in his eyes, something unspoken yet weighty. His thumb brushed small, slow circles along your hip, as if anchoring himself in the moment, and he gave you a slight smile that didn’t quite mask the intensity behind it.

Logan was quiet for a moment, and you felt a shift in his posture, almost like he wanted to say something but was holding back. He looked at you in that way he sometimes did—like he was seeing more than just you standing there in your small, cozy kitchen. Maybe he was seeing all the days stretching ahead, those simple moments you’d have together, and the weight of that left him speechless.

“Logan?” you asked, brushing a hand along his arm.

He blinked, then smiled, the intensity in his gaze easing back into something gentler. “Nothin’. Just thinkin’ how lucky I am.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Guess that makes two of us.”

The kitchen fell into a comfortable silence, with just the faint hum of the oven and the quiet, steady beat of Logan’s heart against your back. In the quiet of your little life together, things felt simple, natural. Here, there were no expectations, no obligations—just the two of you, building something real out of those little, ordinary moments.

But later that night, as you drifted off beside him, Logan stayed awake, lost in thought. His hand brushed over the small velvet box in his drawer, the ring that had waited all this time, the one that had been meant for you once before. He ran his thumb along the edge, thinking about when the right time might be—or if he’d even have the chance. For now, though, he’d savor each day, each quiet moment, holding on as tightly as he could.

---

You lay nestled between Logan’s legs on the couch, your head resting comfortably on his chest as you read, while he watched TV, idly sipping his beer. His free hand drifted up and down your arm absentmindedly, and you could feel the faint rumble of his quiet breaths beneath you. There was a calm in the cabin tonight—a peace you’d found only since being with him.

“What’s got you so hooked?” he asked, glancing down at your book with a smirk. “Looks like you’re deep in it.”

You tilted the book so he could see the cover, Jaws. “It’s a book about a shark.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “a shark, huh?”

You turned back to the book, keeping a small smile hidden. “Kind of. It’s a little deeper than just a shark, though.”

“Deeper than a shark, huh?” Logan smirked, shifting slightly to glance down at you, looking mildly amused. “Didn’t think a fish story could be that interesting.”

“It’s not just any fish, Logan,” you said, letting your hand rest on his as you settled back into his warmth. “This shark’s on a whole other level—a menace, basically unstoppable. And there’s all this tension between the people in the town, like who’s responsible, what to do, whether they even believe it’s happening.”

He gave a soft grunt of understanding, taking a sip of his beer. “Guess I can see why you’re hooked. Townsfolk fighting over a monster they can’t get rid of… kinda familiar.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, a glint of curiosity in your eyes. “You got experience with monsters, Logan?”

“More than you’d believe, darlin’,” he murmured, his eyes holding that far-off look he sometimes got when his mind slipped somewhere else, somewhere harder. But his grip on you stayed gentle, grounding him here.

There was a moment’s quiet, then he smirked, leaning down closer. “But I could take out your shark, no question.”

“Oh, really?” you teased, closing the book and giving him a look of mock skepticism. “A great white shark, Logan. One that can bite clean through a boat. I think even you’d have some trouble with that one.”

He snorted, giving you an exaggerated look of disbelief. “I’m tellin’ ya, I’d have it done in five minutes.”

You laughed, poking his chest. “I’d like to see that. You, in the water, with a shark. You’d probably scare it off.”

“Probably,” he chuckled, his tone playful but carrying a hint of something genuine. “But I’d do it for you.”

His words caught you off guard, softening the teasing banter into something warmer, something real. You looked up at him, and the light in his eyes held a familiar steadiness, a promise you hadn’t expected. You felt a smile creeping up, one that made your heart beat a little faster.

“That’s sweet of you, Logan. But don’t go risking your life over a shark.”

He shrugged, giving a small grin. “Risking my life’s kinda my thing.”

With a smirk, you shifted to put your arms around his neck. “I don’t need you to fight any sharks. I just need you here, safe, preferably not trying to tackle any more sea monsters.”

Logan’s hands came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing along your cheek. “Don’t worry, darlin’. For you, I’d stay outta trouble… or at least, try.”

Your breath caught as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours softly. You melted into him, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, a promise in every kiss, every touch.

When you pulled back, he let out a small sigh, looking at you with a softness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

“Now,” you murmured, your voice quiet as you tried to keep the mood light, “how about you let me finish reading this book before you start making any plans to fight sharks?”

“Fine,” he chuckled, leaning back into the couch, his arms still loosely around you. “But I’m just sayin’, the offer stands.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting back to lean against his chest, your book in hand. But even as you returned to the words on the page, the comfortable silence between you filled every corner of the cabin, your heart warmed by the man beside you.

---

When Logan came home and removed his jacket, the sound of music drifted to his ears, mingling with the low hum of a vacuum. The cabin was warm, a sharp contrast to the biting chill outside, the smell of pine and faint wood smoke greeting him like an old friend. The soft glow of late afternoon sun streaked through the windows, and as he stepped further in, he caught sight of you.

You were standing in the middle of the room, barefoot, wearing one of his old flannels that hung loose on your frame, the hem brushing just below the tops of your thighs. The vacuum roared in your hand as you cleaned, entirely oblivious to his arrival.

Logan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you. Something about this—a simple domestic scene—made his chest tighten, a warmth blooming there that he couldn’t quite name.

“Y’know, you’re not supposed to wear clothes that fit me better than they fit you,” he drawled, his voice cutting through the vacuum’s roar.

Startled, you turned it off with a quick flick of the switch and looked up, a sheepish smile spreading across your face. “Logan! You scared me,” you said.

“Didn’t mean to,” he replied, his tone warm as he pushed off the frame and walked toward you. His boots thudded softly against the wooden floor, and as he got closer, his eyes drank you in, lingering on the way the flannel gaped slightly at the neck, exposing the soft line of your collarbone. “Got a habit of sneakin’ up, I guess.”

You laughed softly, setting the vacuum aside. “If you were a little less loud, I’d think you were some kind of predator.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he said, his grin spreading as he reached for you, hands settling at your waist and pulling you close, “if I wanted to catch you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Your breath hitched as his words settled between you, his voice a low rumble that always managed to make your knees feel just a little weaker. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the solidness of him beneath your palms. “Good thing I’m not running then,” you murmured, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

He leaned down, his nose brushing yours. “Good thing,” he echoed, before his lips claimed yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. His hands slid lower, fingers splaying over the curve of your hips, pulling you tighter against him. The flannel you wore rose slightly under his touch, and you gasped softly into his mouth as his fingers found bare skin.

“Logan,” you breathed against his lips, your voice a soft plea.

“Yeah?” he rasped, his mouth trailing down your jawline, his scruff brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine.

“Think you should let me finish cleaning,” you teased, though your hands had already slid up to wrap around his neck, fingers threading through the dark strands at the base of his skull.

He huffed a laugh, his teeth grazing the delicate line of your throat. “Nah, think I got a better idea.”

With a swift move, he bent and swept you off your feet, one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. You let out a startled laugh, clinging to him as he carried you toward the couch. “Logan, the vacuum—”

“Vacuum’ll be there later,” he cut in, his voice gruff but tinged with amusement. “Right now, you’re the only thing I’m worried about.”

He set you down gently on the cushions, his large frame hovering over you as he knelt on the floor, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the flannel higher. The intensity in his gaze sent a flush rising to your cheeks, your heart pounding in anticipation.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day,” he admitted, his voice thick, raw. His hands paused, fingers curling just under the hem of the shirt. “Mind if I show you how much?”

You nodded, breathless, and he smiled—a rare, almost boyish expression that quickly dissolved into something darker, hungrier. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that left no room for doubt about where his mind was. His hands roamed freely now, skimming along the curve of your thighs, pushing the flannel higher and higher, exposing bare skin to the cool air of the room.

“Goddamn,” Logan muttered against your lips, his voice thick, raw. His hands splayed across your thighs, gripping them as though grounding himself, his thumbs brushing along the tender skin there. “You’re a fuckin’ dream, darlin’.”

A shiver ran through you, anticipation building as his kisses trailed lower, down your jaw, your neck, leaving a path of warm, open-mouthed caresses. You gasped softly, your hands tangling in his hair as he moved further down, sinking to his knees before you, his broad shoulders nudging your legs apart.

"Logan..." Your voice was barely more than a whisper, already trembling.

“Shh,” he murmured, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed a kiss just above your knee, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. The intensity there made your breath hitch. “Let me take care of you.”

He kissed his way up your inner thigh, taking his time, each press of his lips deliberate, teasing. Your heart pounded as you felt his warm breath against your skin, so close to where you wanted him, needed him.

When his lips finally brushed against you, his tongue darting out to taste, you couldn’t suppress the soft moan that spilled from your lips. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you closer as he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue working you with an expertise that made your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasped, your hands clutching his hair, your hips arching into him. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his tongue delving deep before retreating to flick against the sensitive bundle of nerves that had you trembling, your thighs pressing around his head.

Logan growled against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core, and the sound of it—rough, primal—only spurred you on. He was relentless, his lips and tongue working you with a fervor that left no doubt about how much he enjoyed this, enjoyed you.

“Logan, I—” Your words dissolved into a whimper, your body tensing as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. His name was a mantra on your lips, each syllable punctuated by gasps and moans as he pulled you apart and put you back together with every stroke of his tongue.

When you finally shattered, the release crashing over you like a tidal wave, he didn’t stop. He worked you through it, his hands holding you steady as you trembled, as your body arched and writhed against him. Only when you were completely spent, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps, did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening as he looked up at you with a wicked grin.

“You taste like heaven,” he said, his voice rough, gravelly, as he rose to his feet, his hands still resting on your thighs. “I could do that all night.”

You laughed breathlessly, leaning back against the couch, your body still tingling, your cheeks flushed. “You’re insatiable.”

“Says the woman who was just beggin’ me for more,” Logan teased, his voice a low rumble as his lips brushed against yours. His kiss was slow and deliberate, his tongue sliding into your mouth with practiced ease. The taste of him mixed with the remnants of your own release sent a thrill racing through you, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, keeping him close.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You sure you’re not tryin’ to kill me, darlin’? Feels like every time I get my hands on you, I lose a few more pieces of myself.”

Your lips curved into a soft smile, your fingers idly playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad thing.”

Logan huffed a laugh, the sound deep and almost self-deprecating. His thumb traced lazy circles on your thigh, his gaze locked on yours. “For you, maybe not. For me? I’m startin’ to think I wouldn’t mind it.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, a quiet confession that made your chest tighten. You reached up, brushing your thumb along the rough edge of his jaw. “I wouldn’t let that happen,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “You’re too important, Logan. To me.”

His expression softened, the hard edges of his usual demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable. “You’ve got no idea what you do to me, Y/N.”

“Maybe you should show me,” you said, your voice carrying a teasing lilt, though the heat in your eyes betrayed how serious you were.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, almost mischievous grin. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Maybe. But you don’t seem to mind.”

He let out a low growl, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips. “You’re damn right I don’t.”

In one fluid motion, Logan had you lifted, his hands firm as he repositioned you to straddle his lap. You let out a surprised laugh, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself as you settled against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, the solidness of him grounding you in a way that felt almost necessary.

“See? Told ya I had better plans than cleanin’,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he spoke.

You tilted your head, giving him more access, a soft hum escaping your lips. “I think I’m starting to agree.”

Logan’s hands roamed over you, calloused fingers exploring the soft curves of your body with reverence. There was no rush, no urgency in his movements. It was deliberate, almost tender, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you.

His lips trailed a path along your neck, his scruff scraping against your skin in a way that sent shivers racing down your spine. “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he admitted, his voice low, almost like a growl.

“I could say the same about you,” you whispered, your fingers trailing down his chest, tracing the lines of muscle beneath his shirt.

Logan’s hands gripped the hem of the flannel you wore, his knuckles brushing against your skin as he slowly lifted it. He paused, his gaze flicking up to meet yours, seeking permission.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he pulled the shirt over your head and tossed it aside. His eyes darkened as they roamed over you, taking in the sight of your bare skin bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice thick with something between awe and hunger.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but the look in his eyes kept any hint of self-consciousness at bay. “You’re staring,” you teased, though your voice wavered slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“Can’t help it,” he said simply, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing just beneath your ribs. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, Y/N. Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of lookin’ at you.”

The sincerity in his words made your heart ache in the best way. You leaned forward, capturing his lips in a kiss that was slow and deep, your hands threading through his hair as you pressed yourself against him.

Logan’s hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he shifted beneath you, the hard press of him against your core drawing a soft gasp from your lips. He swallowed the sound with a groan, his grip tightening as he began to rock you against him, the friction sending sparks of pleasure racing through you.

“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Just let me take care of you, darlin’.”

His hands moved to your waist, guiding your movements as he kissed you again, his lips moving against yours with a deliberate slowness that left you breathless. Each roll of your hips against him was maddeningly slow, the steady build of tension making you ache for more.

“Logan, please,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders as you tried to quicken the pace.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your lips. “Patience, Y/N. I’m not in a rush.”

You huffed in frustration, though the warmth in his gaze softened the sharp edges of your need. “You’re cruel,” you muttered, though the slight smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

“Cruel, huh?” he echoed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His hands slid down to cup your ass, squeezing gently as he shifted beneath you. “Pretty sure you’ll be thankin’ me when I’m done with you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound dissolving into a soft moan as he bucked his hips against you, the friction sending another wave of heat coursing through you.

“Logan,” you gasped, your voice a mix of exasperation and longing.

He grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Yeah, darlin’? What do you need?”

“You,” you said simply, the single word carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air between you.

Logan’s expression softened, his teasing demeanor shifting as something deeper flickered in his gaze. “You’ve got me,” he said, his voice steady, his hands firm on your hips as though anchoring you to him.

Your heart stuttered at his words, the raw sincerity of them making your chest feel impossibly tight. You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his as your fingers slid down his chest, the fabric of his shirt rough under your touch. “I’m glad,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips found yours again, the kiss unhurried and deliberate, his hands roaming up and down your thighs. The heat of him seeped into your skin, grounding you as you moved against him. The friction was maddening, a slow burn that made you ache for more.

“Darlin’,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick and strained, “you’re makin’ it real hard to take this slow.”

“Maybe I don’t want slow,” you countered, your tone teasing, though the way your breath hitched betrayed your own urgency.

Logan chuckled low, the sound vibrating through you as his lips moved to your neck, trailing kisses along your skin. “Trust me, you do,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your pulse point just enough to make your thighs tighten around him. “I want to feel every second of this.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your fingers tightening in his hair as he took his time exploring every inch of you. Logan’s hands slid beneath your thighs, lifting you slightly as he shifted on the couch, settling back further into the cushions.

The new angle pressed you more firmly against him, drawing a gasp from your lips that he swallowed with another kiss. “Fuck,” you whispered, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

“You okay?” he asked, his tone softer, though the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice trembling as you shifted your hips, testing the pressure between you.

Logan growled low in his throat, his grip on you tightening as his hands slid up your back. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his words heavy with reverence.

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he was looking at you, as though you were the only thing in the world that mattered. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward. “Off,” you said simply, your voice breathless but firm.

He smirked, obliging without hesitation as he pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it aside. Your eyes raked over him, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the scars that marred his otherwise flawless skin.

“Like what you see?” he teased, though there was a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

“Always,” you replied, your hands trailing over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of old wounds. “You’re beautiful, Logan.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands sliding back to your waist. “Don’t think anyone’s called me that before.”

“Well, they should have,” you said, leaning in to press a kiss to his collarbone.

Logan’s hands tightened on your hips, guiding you as you moved against him, the steady grind of your bodies making your head spin. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, though the words were laced with affection.

“Not likely,” you quipped, a soft laugh escaping you.

He chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shifted again, one hand moving to undo the button of his jeans. Your breath hitched as you realized what was coming next, anticipation coiling tightly in your stomach.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his voice softer now, his gaze searching yours.

“Logan,” you said, your tone steady despite the way your heart was racing. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

He nodded once, his hands steady as he slid his jeans down just enough, freeing himself. You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you as you took him in, your cheeks flushing at the sight.

“Come here,” he said, his voice rough as he guided you closer, his hands firm on your hips.

You moved slowly, adjusting yourself over him, the heat of him against you making you tremble. Logan’s hands were steady, his thumbs brushing soothing circles on your skin as he guided you.

When you finally sank down onto him, the feeling was overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and fullness that made you moan softly. Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as his hands gripped your hips tightly.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice raw. “You feel... Jesus, darlin’, you’re perfect.”

You didn’t reply, too caught up in the way he felt, the way he filled you completely. You braced your hands on his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as you began to move.

Logan’s hands guided your movements, his grip firm but not controlling as he let you set the pace. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and consuming as you rocked against him, your bodies moving in perfect sync.

The steady rhythm built slowly, the intensity growing with each roll of your hips. Logan’s hands roamed over you, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, grounding you in the moment.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You met his gaze, your heart skipping a beat at the way he was looking at you. It wasn’t just lust—it was something deeper, something that made your chest ache in the best way.

“I’ve got you,” he said, his hands tightening on your hips as he thrust upward, matching your movements.

The new angle sent a wave of pleasure crashing over you, a soft cry escaping your lips as you clung to him. “Logan,” you gasped, your voice trembling.

“Right here, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice steady despite the strain in it.

The intensity between you grew, the slow, deliberate pace giving way to something more urgent as your bodies moved together. Each thrust, each kiss, each touch pushed you closer to the edge, the tension building to an almost unbearable peak.

When you finally shattered, it was like nothing you’d ever felt before. Logan held you through it, his hands steady on your hips as your body trembled, his name falling from your lips in a breathless mantra.

He followed moments later, a low, guttural groan escaping him as he buried his face in your neck, his grip on you tightening as he found his release.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your breaths mingling as you clung to each other, the world outside forgotten.

“You okay?” Logan asked finally, his voice soft, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“More than okay,” you replied, your voice muffled against his neck.

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not lettin’ you go anytime soon.”

“Didn’t plan on going anywhere,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips as you leaned back to look at him.

Logan’s expression softened, his hands moving to cup your face. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N,” he said, his voice filled with quiet reverence.

“And you’re mine,” you replied, your tone steady despite the warmth spreading through your chest.

“Damn right I am,” he said, his lips curving into a small, almost boyish grin.

The two of you stayed like that, tangled together on the couch, the rest of the world fading away. For now, there was only this—only him.

---

You turned off the water that was filling the bathtub and dipped your hand in to test the temperature of the water. The water was just right—hot, with steam gently rolling off the surface. You stood, wiping your hands on the towel, just as you heard the front door creak open and close with a soft click. Logan’s footsteps padded quietly through the cabin, but you could still feel that familiar presence, that comforting weight of him even when he wasn’t yet in sight.

You barely had time to turn around before he appeared in the doorway, eyebrows raised as he took in the sight of you standing by the tub. “Now this is a surprise,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

“Thought you’d like a soak after all that work you did today,” you replied, a little smile tugging at your mouth. You stepped aside, gesturing toward the water. “Go on, it’s ready.”

Logan’s gaze softened, though his smirk never quite faded. “So you’re spoilin’ me now, huh?”

“Maybe a little,” you teased, leaning against the doorframe as you watched him. “Can’t have you overdoing it. You might be practically indestructible, but a hot bath never hurt anyone.”

He chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off. “Got a point there,” he admitted, tossing it onto the nearby chair. You tried not to stare, but you couldn’t help your eyes drifting over the familiar planes of his chest, scars crisscrossing his skin like a map of all the years he’d survived. He didn’t seem to notice—or maybe he didn’t mind—just kept undressing as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Logan stepped into the tub, easing himself down with a contented sigh as he settled into the water. He leaned his head back, his eyes fluttering shut as the steam rose around him. For a moment, you simply watched him, a fond smile on your lips.

“Good?” you asked softly, breaking the silence.

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you with a lazy grin. “Better than good. You joinin’ me?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “This one’s all yours. I’ll go make us something to drink.”

Before you could turn, Logan reached out, his wet hand catching yours. He looked up at you, his expression softer now. “Stay, darlin’. Least for a bit.”

His thumb brushed gently over your knuckles, and you found yourself nodding, unable to refuse him. You sat down beside the tub, close enough that you could still feel the warmth of the water, and he let his hand rest in yours.

Logan kissed the top of your hand, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Sure ya don’t wanna join me? Promise I don’t bite."

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Uh-huh. That's what they all say."

He chuckled, his fingers still wrapped gently around yours, as if he was savoring this quiet moment between you. “Could use a little company, that’s all,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving your face.

“This is supposed to be a bath for you.” You replied, your own eyebrow quirked.

“I’d enjoy it more if you were in here with me.”

You raised an eyebrow at Logan, the corner of your mouth quirking into a teasing smile. “Is that right? Well, maybe if you’re lucky.”

Logan’s smirk deepened, a playful glint in his eye as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the side of the tub. “Oh, come on. I’m always lucky when it comes to you.” His voice was a low murmur, pulling you in with that familiar, lazy charm he always seemed to have.

“Uh-huh, says the guy who tried to convince me he could take on a shark,” you shot back, crossing your arms, leaning casually against the wall. “You’re just full of bold ideas, huh?”

He chuckled, giving a shrug. “I stand by that. But I’m talkin’ serious here.” His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your wrist in a way that sent a warmth through you. “No sharks, no messin’ around. Just you, right here.”

The sincerity caught you a little off guard. The tension settled into something deeper as you looked at him, his hand steady on yours, like he was holding onto more than just the moment.

“I guess… I could keep you company,” you said softly, the lightness of your earlier words giving way to something quieter. You slipped out of your shirt, feeling Logan’s gaze follow you, his eyes dark with a warmth that made you feel both nervous and excited.

Sliding into the water, you settled in close to him, leaning back as his arms naturally came around you. The water was hot, relaxing every part of you, but it was Logan’s touch, the gentle press of his fingers tracing over your arm, that made you feel completely at ease.

“See?” he murmured against your hair, his lips grazing the top of your head. “Told ya this was a good idea.”

You hummed, closing your eyes as you leaned into him. “You did. Guess I should listen to you more often.”

Logan’s hand slid along your shoulder, trailing down your arm with a steady, careful touch, like he was trying to memorize every inch. You felt the warmth of his breath against your neck, followed by the soft press of his lips just below your ear. The tension of the day melted away, leaving you relaxed and content in his embrace.

For a few moments, you both just stayed there, the only sounds the quiet rustle of water and the occasional creak of the cabin settling. Logan’s fingers traced small, lazy circles along your arm, his other hand holding you close against him, anchoring you to him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

“So,” you murmured, breaking the silence, “this isn’t so bad, right?”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Could get used to it,” he said, his voice rumbling against your back. “Peace and quiet. Just the two of us.” His hand dipped below the water, wrapping around yours.

You squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth bloom in your chest. “Thought you’d be the type to get bored out here, all this peace and quiet.”

He gave a noncommittal shrug, though his thumb continued to brush over the back of your hand. “Can handle a bit of quiet if it means you’re here,” he said softly, almost as if he was talking to himself.

You smiled, tilting your head to look at him, your faces close. “Guess that makes two of us.” You felt a strange flutter in your stomach, the weight of those unspoken words lingering between you both.

Logan’s eyes flicked down to your lips, his gaze soft and intent. “You gonna kiss me, or do I gotta ask real nice?”

“Always so impatient,” you teased, but you leaned in, closing the distance, your lips meeting his in a soft, lingering kiss. His hand moved up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek as he deepened the kiss, slow and unhurried, like he was savoring every second. When you finally pulled back, you were both breathing a little heavier, your forehead resting against his.

Logan looked at you, a small, crooked smile on his lips. “See? Worth the wait.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but there was no denying the truth in his words. “You really know how to charm a girl, you know that?”

“Only got one girl I’m tryin’ to charm,” he replied, his voice rough but warm.

Your smile softened as you nestled back against him, letting the silence settle over you both once more. The warmth of the water, the feel of his arms around you—it felt like a small eternity in that moment, like nothing else in the world mattered except this.

---

Trying to turn the conversation away from what Logan told you, about Stryker coming to visit him about a ‘mission’, you started to talk about your day, with Logan’s head in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“The stray was matted but Tina started calling him Wolf. Said the dog reminded her of another animal.”

Logan hummed, his eyes still closed, “lemme guess, she showed you a picture of the animal from her book.”

You giggled, “yeah, she did. Gotta admit that dog looked quite similar to the wolverine in her book.” You tilted your head downwards to look at him, “Reminded me of you. Grizzly, sometimes dirty.”

Logan opened one eye, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah? Grizzly, huh?”

“Maybe a little.” You grinned, your fingers drifting through his hair in slow strokes. “Not just the dirty part, by the way. Wolverines are pretty fierce, don’t let much stand in their way.”

He let out a low chuckle, closing his eye again, seeming to relax further under your touch. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment, comin’ from you.” There was a slight pause, and his voice softened a bit. “Not everyone’s a fan of the grizzly type.”

You scoffed lightly, continuing to thread your fingers through his hair. “Well, good thing I am. You know, even wolverines have a soft side somewhere.”

Logan huffed a small laugh. “Yeah? Don’t think I’ve got much of that left, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh, you definitely do.” You brushed a thumb gently along his temple. “Trust me. Like today—taking the time to help out with that old couple’s truck, even after a full day’s work.” You smiled down at him, admiration clear in your gaze. “I see it, Logan, even if you don’t.”

He tilted his head a bit, opening his eyes and looking up at you, his expression unreadable for a second before he sighed, a smirk breaking the moment. “Keep sayin’ things like that, and I might start to believe you.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

Logan’s gaze softened, but he kept his usual, laid-back tone. “Guess I’m lucky you put up with me, huh?”

“You know it.” You winked, letting your fingers trail down to his jawline, and you felt him relax a little more, like he could melt under your touch. “Plus, someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

“Not an easy job,” he muttered, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he leaned into your hand, his voice barely above a murmur. “You’re somethin’ else, Y/N.”

The two of you fell quiet for a moment, the warmth in his gaze making your heart beat just a little faster, and you couldn’t help but lean down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. When you pulled back, he just looked at you with that familiar mix of amusement and something else—a depth you didn’t need him to explain.

You shifted slightly, a small smile still on your face. “Now, about that dog—think you could convince Tina to bring him around here?”

Logan’s eyebrows lifted, a smirk tugging at his lips again. “Bringing a stray mutt up here? You sure?”

“Why not? He’d be a good watch dog for you when I’m not around,” you said, with a wink.

He chuckled, a bit softer this time. “Guess I’ll think about it.” Then, his eyes crinkled with that familiar spark of humor. “But only if you promise not to call me Grizzly in front of anyone else.”

You laughed, leaning back against the couch, his head still in your lap. “Deal.”

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke, and you just let yourself soak up the comfortable silence, the simplicity of Logan resting there, perfectly at ease. And as your hand drifted gently through his hair again, you couldn’t help but wonder if this—these quiet moments—might be what you’d both been needing all along.

---

You were driving down a narrow road, the trees thickening as you made your way toward town. The familiar hum of a cassette player filled the car, and you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm. It had been a good week—a small but sweet milestone with Logan, half a year together, and you’d even managed to keep things peaceful in that cabin of his. Tonight was supposed to be simple, a little surprise you’d planned: a tiramisu. Probably the only thing you could bake to perfection.

You rounded a curve, smiling to yourself when—

The sight in the distance made your stomach twist. A figure stood in the middle of the road, dressed in black, unmoving, watching you with an unsettling focus. You slowed the car, blinking to see if you were imagining things. But no—he was still there, large and unflinching in the middle of the narrow path.

As you approached, your heart hammered against your ribs. Something about him was familiar, but not in any way that felt safe or warm.

You pressed on the brake, bringing the car to a cautious stop. The man took a slow, deliberate step forward, his face coming into view under the faint sunlight streaming through the trees. His eyes were cold, almost amused, and his mouth twisted into a cruel smile.

It was him—Victor. The man Logan had mentioned a few times, enough to make you know he wasn’t someone you’d ever want to meet, much less find waiting for you like this.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his voice deep, mocking, and calm in a way that was anything but reassuring.

You tried to keep your face calm, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Just heading into town,” you replied, voice steadier than you felt. “Is there…something you need?”

He tilted his head, like he was sizing you up. “Logan ever mention me?”

A chill crawled up your spine, but you kept your expression guarded. “Maybe once or twice.”

Victor took another step forward, his gaze raking over you with a twisted curiosity, almost like he was toying with the idea of letting you go—but only almost. “See, I’ve been meaning to have a little chat with him,” he drawled, his tone venomous, “and here you are, just making it easy for me.”

You felt a pulse of dread, instinct telling you to turn the car around and get out of there, fast. But you knew better than to provoke him. “Logan’s not here,” you said, hoping that would be enough.

He smirked, that same cold expression never leaving his face. “I’m aware,” he murmured, taking another slow step toward you. “You think he’d leave someone like you on your own if he thought you’d be safe?”

Your heart raced, a knot of fear tightening in your throat. You wanted to say something, anything, to stall him, to get yourself out of this, but nothing came to mind. The realization was dawning, and from the look in Victor’s eyes, he knew it too. There would be no bargaining, no reasoning with him.

"Didn't think Logan would be the type to leave someone behind. Guess I was wrong," he said, sounding amused.

You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, refusing to give in to the fear swirling in your chest. "Logan’s not here," you repeated, your voice firm.

"Like I said, I know," Victor replied smoothly, taking another step. His eyes traveled over the car, then over you, a twisted curiosity behind them. "But I figure, maybe you can pass along a little message for me."

Every instinct told you to run, but the car blocked you in, and Victor was only feet away. "What do you want, Victor?"

He grinned, his sharp teeth glinting under the dim light. "Simple. Tell Logan I said 'hi'... if you get the chance."

The dread in your stomach crystallized as he lunged forward. You tried to move, to react, but he was too fast. His hand closed around your throat, lifting you out of the car as though you weighed nothing, and you fought, kicking, clawing, anything you could think of to get free.

"You know," Victor’s voice was disturbingly calm, "he’s been through a lot. But there’s always that soft spot, that weakness he can’t seem to shake."

Desperation flared within you, and you kicked harder, one foot making contact with his chest. It only made him laugh, and he tightened his grip, his face drawing close enough that you could see the cold cruelty in his eyes.

"You’re just like all the others," he murmured, voice almost thoughtful. "Maybe a little more stubborn, but that’s hardly new."

Black spots began to dance at the edges of your vision, your breath coming shorter and shorter. You knew there was no getting out of this—not with him, not with a monster like Victor Creed.

But Logan...

---

Logan walked through the vegetation right by where he and the other guys were cutting apart a tree. He stopped short once he saw the head of an animal laying on the yellow grass.

“What you doing, Logan?” One of the guys asked from behind.

Logan looked around before seeing large scratch marks on a tree trunk, lined with red. “Y/N.” He whispered, before running down the hill and through the forest.

Once he hit the clearing, he could see the truck on the side of the road. Logan reached the car, his hands gripping the window frame as he scanned the empty interior. “Y/N…?” His voice was rough, the crack of worry breaking through, echoing in the quiet forest.

His eyes darted down to the disturbed earth, faint scuff marks in the dirt telling him where you might’ve been dragged. His heart hammered as he followed the path into the trees, every step growing heavier with dread as he moved through the dense underbrush, the silence unsettling.

And then, in a small clearing, he found you.

You were lying there, so still, your skin pale against the forest floor, hair fanned around you like a dark halo. Blood flecked the ground, stark and terrible against the greenery. He staggered, dropping to his knees beside you, reaching out with trembling hands, one of them clenching briefly before he let himself touch you.

“Y/N…” he whispered, voice breaking as he cupped your face, his fingers brushing a smear of dirt from your cheek. Your eyes were closed, lips parted just slightly, as if you’d been trying to say his name. For a split second, he could almost pretend you were just asleep, and that any second you’d open your eyes, make some joke, or reach up to tug him down to you.

But there was no warmth, no spark, nothing.

Logan’s breath caught, and he pulled you close, his arms cradling you as if he could shield you from the reality already etched into his heart. The rage simmered below his skin, burning through the grief, fueling the ache with something primal. He rocked back, jaw clenched so hard it hurt, his face buried in your hair, trying to hold on to any last trace of you, the faint scent of you still lingering, even as everything around him felt like it was falling apart.

“You… You were supposed to be safe here,” he whispered against your hair, voice hoarse. “I shoulda been here. I shoulda…” His words trailed off into silence as he sat there, unmoving, clutching you in his arms as if the weight of his grief alone could pull you back.

He looked down at you, his thumb grazing over your cheek one last time, as though trying to commit every detail of your face to memory. “Y/N… I swear… I’ll make him pay.” The last words came out like a promise, a vow laced with the kind of anger only a man like Logan could bear. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before letting out a long, broken breath.

When he finally tore his gaze away from you, his eyes turned cold, a new resolve searing through him.

This wasn’t over.

umm... sorry??

i tried to make a different version of how logan got the name 'wolverine' to try and fit reader's personality, since she probably doesn't know about the myth kayla did.

next chapter will be x2!

[linopilled]

⟡ cw: BACKSHOTSSSSS!!! (daddy) chris is very degrade-y, he squishes the reader's face in his big sexy hand, 2 lil cheek slaps, dumbification, crying, drooling, no gendered pronouns but he calls the reader his good girl and i know all of you desire to be chris's good girl... freaks! /j oh yeah and he says slut once sorry!

⟡ a/n: reposting this one first because its a personal fav <3. as always, mdni, and thank you for reading! any & all feedback is welcome. :*

husband!chris, ever so soft, attentive, and doting.

when describing him outside of an intimate setting the only thing you can ever talk about with your girls is how pure and consuming his love is for you. it's a relationship akin to one that feels like sunbathing in a beautiful, massive garden and being hand-fed grapes. but when he's got you in a position so vulnerable, like now, with your wrists clasped together behind your back in his hold, and he's so deep in your guts you feel like you're going to die in his arms, his hot and heavy cock abusing that sweet spot in your messy cunt with no restraint — gentleness is far from his demeanor.

you've been at it for hours. so much so your knees have indented it's place in the mattress, and his brutal pace is making it no better. you're sure you've got carpet burn at this point. your weak sobbing and incoherent wails begin sounding winded, and you struggle to gather air into your chest but he knocks the breath right out of your lungs almost immediately after every gasp you take. “fucking slut.” he sneers. he's in his zone. a usually hidden place chris only goes on special occasions you're in bed with him.

then he utters something. it's so muffled you can only feel the vibration of what he says and you barely make out any syllables.

“ — be the good girl you know you are and moan my name.” you miss the first half of his sentence again, completely zoned out and held prisoner to his thick cock in your cunt. struggling to speak, stammering over weak little whimpers, you manage to get out a small “ch — chris —,” but that's not what he's looking for you to call him.

he grips your cheeks in his palm, squishing them together and suddenly he's tilting your head back to force you to make eye contact. well, if you could even call it that; you can hardly see him through your blurry wet eyes. his thrusts slow and he's pressing all the way inside with a harsh jerk of his hips, balls pressed tightly against your throbbing clit, and you cant help but whine again, body trembling like a leaf. his gaze is pointed and you feel pinned to him, chris’s expression mimicking a scowl he's so focused on getting a response from you. “y’fucking stupid? that's not my name.”

your head is swimming, drool slipping down your chin and you babble wordlessly like some brain-dead toy, hips gyrating pathetically as you're trying your damnedest to get him to just move again.

“stop fucking squirming and listen.” he hisses, using that same palm that's currently holding your face in place, and tapping your cheek twice. enough to get you to focus, but not enough to hurt. he gives you a second sharp thrust as punishment, grip returning to your face. his hold on your cheeks are so tight, it's puckering your cute little lips. “i won't ask you again.”

“d-daddy!” you squeal, and a cocky grin takes it's place on his flushed face, his hips picking up speed.

atta-girl.

[soov]

RUMOUR HAS iT。 park sunghoon

princess fem reader & prince sunghoon ᗢ 1OOO words ━━ fluff ꕀ royal!au, arranged marriage, repost ⌗ WARNiNGS pet names, kissing.

“I suppose you know about the rumours by now?”

The prince’s deep voice tugged you back to reality, making his presence known by leaning onto the same balustrade as you.

“Why do you think I would’ve called you here if I didn’t?” You asked back, to which he responded with a smile, looking at the scenery in front of him.

Sunghoon appeared somewhat unkempt. His hair dismissed the usual slicked-back style, soft black bangs falling on his eyes. He had a white linen puffed-sleeve shirt on, with the first three buttons undone. Once, he had admitted that he owned twelve of the shirts, them being his favorite piece of clothing.

As your stare lowered, his high-waisted black pants and boots piqued your curiosity, “What is the reason behind the informal clothes?”

“Why the question?” He turned his head in your direction. “You also have an informal attire on, my love.” Sunghoon still had a cheeky beam plastered across his face, attentive eyes observing the way you toyed with his sleeves.

“My maids said that this color and dress would look good on me.” You reasoned and pushed one of the puffy sleeves slightly up his arm, tracing the delicate veins enmeshed beneath his flesh. “I asked because I only see you wearing this outfit when it’s your birthday or a commemoration.”

“They were right; you do look good.” He seemed to be enjoying how you were caressing his arm. His muscles flexed and relaxed every time you touched him, making him feel like you were painting a masterpiece across his bare, pale skin. “And well, it is a happy day for me.”

“Even with the rumours?”

Right. The rumours. The gossip that spread around the castle like wildfire about the soon-to-be King and Queen that didn’t truly love each other, only keeping up their looks because of diplomatic problems. That, and the supposed cheating accusations, claiming that you were seeing a close friend behind the prince’s back.

In part, it would’ve been true if the false talk started a few months ago — though only the comment about real love being absent in your relationship. You used to think that the boy was a spoiled little brat who leeched off his parents’ high status. Yet, you fell right into his trap when your arranged marriage was announced.

With his eyebrows tied together and the smallest pout, Sunghoon gave you his trademark confused face. “Why would they matter? We love each other and will get married soon, isn’t it? Let them say whatever.”

The raw and honest responses from Sunghoon were one of the many factors that brought him to the center of your heart. His unfiltered remarks, reminding you of your infinite worth (his words, not yours), slowly guided you to the path without return that is loving him.

You huffed out a breath. There were a bunch of servants whispering and stroddling through the garden close to the bandstand where the both of you were. If Sunghoon wasn’t right next to you, you would have cussed them out, even knowing that you couldn’t. They were your fiancé’s people, and briefly, they would be yours too.

“I don’t appreciate how they talk so lowly about us…” You mumbled, chin on your palm. Neither of you were big on PDA, that was a fact, but you wondered if it was that bad to make the word even more convincing. “I just wanted to shut their mouths and show them that we long for each other.”

“Do you, now?” Sunghoon grinned, embracing you from behind as his pointy nose went to your neck. “We could give them a little sample of our love.” He muttered, the low timbre of his voice being more than enough proof of your effect on him.

You nearly choked on your own breath, a lump closing your throat. “I thought you were uncomfortable with showing affection in public?” The words left your mouth in a nervous whisper when he gently turned you in his hold to face you.

“Princess,” he began, the pet name almost sounding sardonic due to your title, “that was seven months ago. I hated you at the time, you know it. But I only want to kiss you right now.”

There was something in his eyes, blended with the dark brown hues and the sparkly melted stars that captivated and hypnotized you. Sunghoon was so intense that you could never bring yourself to break eye contact, or reply coherently, when you were drowning in his gaze. A nod was all that came out of you.

The prince chuckled, the act so genuine and lovesick that your knees threatened to falter, “You’re so annoyingly beautiful.” He voiced, and leaning in, his lips parted to taste the sweetness of your mouth.

With a gasp, you carded your fingers through his raven hair. It had gotten so long in such a short time. The only place that your hands went to during your kisses was in between his locks.

A soft rumble escaped his chest, body beginning to relax when you played with his hair. In a second, Sunghoon cupped a side of your face in his palm, still being smug enough to slide the other to the small of your back, gripping that part. A smirk curled his lips up as he felt the low cut back of the dress, tracing your skin like you did to his arm earlier.

His actions induced a shiver to run down your spine, and you couldn’t do much except feel yourself covered in goosebumps. Softly, gently, slowly — that was how your fiancé enjoyed kissing you.

“Sunghoon…” Tugging at the loose collar of his shirt, you tried to regain your composure after the scandalous scene. “Did they go yet?”

Your breathy voice calling out his name only fueled the pure adoration the boy felt. “Not yet.” He hummed, glancing at the flustered maids that giggled amongst themselves. “Seems like they’re slow walkers.”

“At least that will make them stop talking.” You grumbled.

He squeezed you tighter in his arms, almost trying to express the extent of his feelings in the way he held you. “It surely will.”

And it didn’t, since, now, rumour has it that the prince is too greedy to go for only a single kiss.

𔓕　LETTERS FROM REi ━━ i wish prince sunghoon was real

2024 © SOOV

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

jayvik x reader plsplsplsplspls

YESYESYEYSYEYSYEYS

--

Everyone in piltover knows the three of you. Known for his attitude and sarcastic approach, viktor was usually the one people were cautious talking to. He may look small, too, but he was hiding a hell of a punch behind his bony body. Jayce is like sunshine on legs. Everyone loves talking to jayce, and he takes care of the business that he prefers you and viktor need not worry about. But he too is hiding something, jayce is absolutely terrifying when he's got a reason to be. Although he looks like a teddy bear, he could tear a man apart with two fingers and walk away smiling. So he's a guard dog.

And you are their loving and doting partner of 2 years. You are a scientist, but you have long since taken a break after an explosion shattered your arm. You haven't been able to work on much since. You started dating viktor and jayce a little bit after they joined together as partners In the hextech project.

They indoctrinated you into their duo and took pride in knowing they could take care of you, and secretly, after a short time of being your small trio, it was jayce who announced he had feelings for you. At first, you didn't know what to say back because you did indeed like him too, but you liked viktor as well.

And so you proposed to them the idea of a poly relationship. And like children who had been offered stacks of candy, they immediately smiled happily and nodded. And since then, your life has been peaceful and perfect alongside your partners.

You were taking a stroll through the square as three. Despite the fact that jayce had a meeting to get to, he would not rush viktor as he walked slowly beside him. Rather, he enjoyed walking at this pace in comparison to the constant speeding down the halls that the other councillors always seemed hell bent on doing.

"It would be nice to get lunch, don't you think?" Jayce turnt to look at you both.

You nodded. "I agree that would be lovely"

Viktor shrugged his thin shoulders. "Yes, that would be." his sentence was interrupted by a harsh cough into his handkerchief. "Lovely indeed"

You and jayce looked at each other worriedly. "Are you alright, vik? We can go home if you would like?" Jayce stopped the three of you and put his hand of viktors shoulder.

His hand engulfed his bony shoulder, and your brows raised still shocked at just how large jayce was. It's quite terrifying when he stands up straight.

"You need not worry about me, jayce. I am okay" viktor nodded.

"Perhaps it may be best if we go sit down somewhere," you stated.

"Sounds like a bad idea, love, viktor's bony butt might hurt when he sits down" jayce chuckled at his own joke.

Viktor glared at his partner. "Remember, i might be sick, but I am not weak. I will fight you talis, "

That made you laugh.

[sloppilyeatinggrapes]

This is my secret sideblog so I'm just gonna. Not do it as an ask game, I just want to talk about podcasts!

1.) what’s the first podcast you listened to?

Welcome to Nightvale <3

2.) what’s a podcast you’ve cried over?

So many, but recently, Unwell!

3.) Favorite podcast pet? (Idk if that’s worded weird but like if one of the characters has a cat or smth)

I'm honestly not the biggest fan of podcast pets but there is ONE EXCEPTION which is Dumptruck from Find us alive

4.) what podcast has the best soundtrack/music?

Aaah there are many I like... One some might have missed is Dreamboy, which have a couple of bangers, or In Strange Woods, which is a WHOLE MUSICAL and I listen to the songs frequently. But my go to soundtracks are Friends at the table (thank you Jack deQuit). Honorable mention to Wolf 359 and Hallowoods who I think uses their osts SO WELL, giving me VISCERAL reactions when I hear the music out of context.

5.) what’s a podcast that you really like but find it kinda hard to follow the plot?

I have tried to listen to What's the Frequence so many times, it seems so intriguing and interesting as a concept, but I still don't know what even the basic plot is. I think it starts with a murder?

6.) what characters from different podcasts do you think would be friends?

Maybe this is a weird combo but I do think Diggory would be great Friends with Kai and X from Girl in Space. It's something about identity and bodies and being made with a purpose, and somehow still ending up being a pretty chill person.

I also think the demons from Brimstone Valley Mall (especially the teens) would be best hatefriends with the Hrose camp polecule. They are opposite sides but same kind of mall kids. Maybe they wouldn't be friends maybe I just want to watch the world burn

7.) what characters from different podcasts do you think would hate each other?

hmmm. Elias TMA and Keppler Wolf359. They are boss middle managers who think very highly of their own competence, have VERY different ideological base and would kill each other with knives over a cornchip

8.) what’s a podcast where you mix up the characters voices?

I have had this problem with A LOT of podcasts in the beginning, it usually takes me a while unless they are very distinct. I remember it being a problem with Mabel (literally two characters and I couldnt tell them apart...) and Syntax with two of the women side-characters. It took me so long to understand what their personalities were supposed to be, since I couldnt tell who said what.

9.) what’s a podcast that you know the characters so well you can recognize their breathing?

oooh hmm. I mean, Nightvale. It's been like 11 years after all. And Deck the halls with Matrimony!

10.) what’s a podcast that you wish you could listen to again for the first time?

oooh maybe The Penumbra podcast, specifically Juno! I think I got a weird impression of it because I listened to the OG, much rougher version of arc 1, it was really confusing and I got a very different idea about the characters in my head. Now when it's finished, I think it would be a better listen to just go through all of it as a blank slate! I also liked the end, and I think it found what it is about during the journey.

11.) what’s a podcast you’ve listened to more than once?

Most... If I like it I'll listen AT LEAST twice. But I have listened to Deck the Halls SO MANY TIMES because it's short and wrapped.

12.) what’s a podcast you wish more people listened to?

Having many fans is a double edged sword, but right now, Hallowoods and Hymns for the road. I think both would be so visually inspiring for fanart and oc's.

13.) what do you like to do while listening to a podcast?

Draw! Always!

14.) who is a podcast character that you love?

Leon from Greater Boston!

Diggory Graves from Hallowoods!

Brnine from Friends at The Table!

15.) who is a podcast character you can’t stand?

Genuinely? I did not like Cassius from Syntax... sorry... I just think they are too stupid for me.

16.) what songs do you associate with a certain character/ podcast?

oh man, Hoziers Eat your young with Hallowoods, Moss by cosmo shelldrake (for obvious reasons) with Hymns for the road, Haunted House by sir babygirl with Friends at the Table

17.) what’s a podcast that you can’t stop thinking about?

Bluff city (friends at the table), Hallowoods, Greater Boston and The Silt Verses. It's something about imperfect communities

18.) are their any podcasts that you regret listening to?

Yes. We're alive. Zombie podcast. Was waiting for it to subverse all the boring and bad cliches it set up. It didn't. It was 100 eps a 40 min. I have never been more mad

19.) whose your favorite podcast couple?

In canon, of course Cecil and Carlos. The OG!

Shipping wise its Leon and Michael from Greater Boston, Harley and Lancaster and Love and Radager from Find us Alive, Brnine and Valence from Palisade, Heard and Hector from Bluff city.

I also ship Malik from World gone wrong with the alien replacement of his ex. I WANT TO BELIEVE.

20.) whose a podcast character that you think would dress really cool?

Actually cool? Probably Riot or Olivier from HFTH. Cool as in interesting/fascinating? Cecil WTNV again.

Podcast themed ask game cause I’m bored!

1.) what’s the first podcast you listened to?

2.) what’s a podcast you’ve cried over?

3.) Favorite podcast pet? (Idk if that’s worded weird but like if one of the characters has a cat or smth)

4.) what podcast has the best soundtrack/music?

5.) what’s a podcast that you really like but find it kinda hard to follow the plot?

6.) what characters from different podcasts do you think would be friends?

7.) what characters from different podcasts do you think would hate each other?

8.) what’s a podcast where you mix up the characters voices?

9.) what’s a podcast that you know the characters so well you can recognize their breathing?

10.) what’s a podcast that you wish you could listen to again for the first time?

11.) what’s a podcast you’ve listened to more than once?

12.) what’s a podcast you wish more people listened to?

13.) what do you like to do while listening to a podcast?

14.) who is a podcast character that you love?

15.) who is a podcast character you can’t stand?

16.) what songs do you associate with a certain character/ podcast?

17.) what’s a podcast that you can’t stop thinking about?

18.) are their any podcasts that you regret listening to?

19.) whose your favorite podcast couple?

20.) whose a podcast character that you think would dress really cool?

[lovemomhatepolice]

oscar piastri nswf alphabet (part 2) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Oscar is clear about his boundaries, both for himself and his partner. He absolutely refuses to engage in anything that seems coercive or disrespectful. Anything that involves humiliation, pain without prior discussion or crossing emotional boundaries is off the table. He rejects dishonesty in expressing desires and needs - open communication is crucial to him. Mutual comfort and consent always come first.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Oscar is the type who doesn't choose whether he prefers to get or give. He knows that it flows from both sides and he really likes to stick to it. He's quite experienced, so he tries to catch what you like and loves to see your reaction. He's also a big fan of how you give something of yourself and go on your knees in front of him. He loves it when he can weave his fingers into your hair.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Rather, he is the type who focuses on the sensuality of the whole act. Oscar likes privacy, peace and quiet. He loves how you have sex in a quiet place, away from people and the speed of the whole world. He likes to take his time, likes to focus on what he is doing and give you all the pleasure possible. But he also happens to be more freaky - for example, when you are both after alcohol, then he fires up harder. You're both in a torrent of electrifying glances at each other, an even heavier air than usual. Then his reins let go and he's not so laid back anymore

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Oscar doesn't mind quick numbers, especially when time is tight or the moment is too irresistible to ignore. He loves the thrill and spontaneity of stealing a few hot minutes together, especially if it happens in an unexpected place. However, he doesn't want them to replace more intimate and drawn-out moments, because he values the deeper connection they bring.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) He does not like risks. Oscar is such a balanced and secretive man that he wouldn't allow himself or you to take risks, such as being set upon by other people. He values his privacy too much to allow that to happen. And when it comes to risks, like lack of security, he's also rather against it. You're both young, so he wouldn't want a slip-up to happen to you

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Oscar surprises with his stamina - he may seem laid back and relaxed, but when it comes to intimacy, he has impressive stamina. He can easily go two or three rounds in one session if the mood is right, with enough energy to make it exciting each time.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) It's not for him. Oscar is not fascinated by such toys. He's not against it - after all, everything is for people, but he doesn't need it. He thinks the same when it comes to your sex - he doesn't use any “boosters”. However, if you own something, he is not against you showing him…

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Oh, Oscar is a tease one. He loves to tease you, driving you crazy. All day long he can hook you up - whisper something naughty, touch you not-so-subtly on the butt or look at you with that one pattern he reserved especially for you. But rest assured, as unbearable as he is with this, he immediately returns the favor and does it brilliantly

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Maybe in everyday life Oscar is not very talkative and seems secretive, but I beg you. When things move to your bedroom, bathroom, living room, whatever - Oscar is unrecognizable. He turns into a whining mess, constantly whispers sweet nothings (or the less sweet ones) in your ear, and you could swear that's the moment when he's at his loudest

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) I have already mentioned that Oscar is a master of aftercare. But how he loves it when you take the initiative and take care of him! Mostly he prefers to do it, but when you wash him or prepare his favorite food, or god forbid, stroke his hair and back, well he is in paradise

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Hm, Oscar is rather normal sized. He's not very big, but he's definitely not small. For you, it's perfect and in any position you feel it filling you up quite as it should

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Mm, his sex drive is stable. He's not too demanding and doesn't expect sex from you all the time, but he doesn't have little of it either. It all depends on the time he is currently in. If he happens to have more free time and you're next to him, he doesn't take his hands off you. Although he does it respectfully and does not impose himself, you know very well what he wants by those shining eyes of his

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He only falls asleep when he knows the aftercare has been properly done. He tries to fall asleep only when you are already sleeping safely next to him, but he happens to fall asleep before you do. This is especially true when you are the one cuddling him close, rather than him cuddling you. Then he doesn't need much - but he tries

A/N: part one if anyone missed it!!

I encourage you to give requests in the Christmas marathon! click here :) and in my celebration to the first thousand!

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[heeseungiez]

the tower by the forest | lhs

part one!

pairings! sorcerer!lee heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis! the immortal sorcerer lives in a tower by the forest filled with dark creatures. he protects the surrounding villages from its dangers, and in exchange, every decade, a girl from one of the villages is chosen to live as his companion. this time, it’s you.

genre! fantasy romance, angst

content warnings! swearing and the fact this is unfinished so this is part one

word count! 11.4k

author's note! i'm scared of making this longer but i'm literally just halfway through...

Throughout your life, a girl from the villages has only been taken twice. And the first time, you were barely one year old, so it could hardly affect you in any way. The second time, however, you were eleven. At the time, you already understood what was happening and why. A girl around the age of twenty had been chosen to live with the lone and mysterious sorcerer who lived in a tower at the edge of the Forest to prolong his protection of the villages.

Nobody likes to talk about it much. How the girls are chosen, when he comes for them and what he does to them. None of that information is known. Although you’ve heard that usually, once the decade passes, the girls are free to go and live as they please with a solid fortune to their name. The girl you witnessed being taken away ten years ago has been released recently, and you heard from the whispers of the other villagers that she moved to the city and is starting her own business in dressmaking.

For that very reason, every village surrounding the Forest lives in restless anticipation. Any day now, a new girl will be chosen to join the sorcerer in his tower. Ten years, she will live with him and do whatever it is that she’s got to do to keep her family and friends safe from the darkness of the Forest.

You wish you could know how the girls are chosen to be better prepared. It’s glaringly obvious that some villagers think you might be the next girl chosen. You’re the perfect age for it, and apparently, there is also the fact that the girls that go to the sorcerer are usually deemed objectively beautiful or somehow talented.

You’re not exactly talented, but you’re not that beautiful either. You’d argue that Yeji or Chaeryong are far better choices in that regard, but somehow the eyes are still on you. It’s strange, knowing that everyone is convinced you will be next while you can’t see a single reason why. Maybe they just want to be rid of you. Although that is most certainly not the way the girls get chosen.

Everyone simply overestimates your talent with the violin and your voice. That has got to be it. You’re not a genius nor a prodigy, you play the instrument and sing merely because you want to. It’s a hobby, but it’s not something to make you a desirable choice for the sorcerer. And you don’t want to be his choice either. You’d rather stay in your village with your family and friends.

“Y/N!” One of those friends, Jaeyun, calls after you with a grin on his lips, waving enthusiastically. “Do you have time today? I’d like to practise together.” Because both of you play the violin. In fact, it was Jaeyun who made you fall in love with the instrument in the first place.

You smile and nod. “Of course. I always have time,” you say, although untruthfully. For Jaeyun, however, everyone makes time. He is the village’s golden boy. Loved and adored by everyone. He can talk his way into and out of anything. You’re sure he’s never paid for anything either because everyone is happy to give him everything for free — a gift for the beloved boy of Riverfeld.

Whenever you and Jaeyun visit the local tavern, the tab made on his name is never paid, and the owner has never even asked for it to be paid. It’s as if his mere existence is payment enough. But you guess that’s what happens when you’re the people’s happy pill.

“Awesome! Let’s go,” Jaeyun says, grabbing your hand.

You expect him to let you get your violin at home, but it isn’t necessary as he has done that for you. He prepared the whole scene, already knowing you would say yes because why would you not?

“Look,” Jaeyun says, grabbing a sheet that is laid by his instrument. “Sunghoon and I have been working on a new composition and I wanted to try playing it with you.”

You hum, waiting for Jaeyun to approach you. He practically sticks himself to your side with the sheet in hand, showing you the new song they’ve been working on.

It’s a love song. 

There are no lyrics, but as you imagine the sound of the melody, your imagination bringing it to life, you know it’s a ballad. A song of love meant for someone specific. A confession of adoration and admiration. 

“You think you can do this?” Jaeyun asks, solemnly looking at you.

Smiling, you nod. “Of course.”

Both of you grab your violins, sharing the singular sheet in between as you prepare. Sitting down on the ground, you settle the violin on your shoulder and rest your chin atop. A smile adorns your lips at the feeling of holding the instrument in your hands again.

“Can we?” Jaeyun asks softly, also ready. All he needs is a nod from you to lift his bow to the strings of the violin and start the melody. He acts as your guide as this is your first time playing the song. 

It starts off slowly. A sweet melody of two people getting to know each other, growing closer and beginning to care. The tempo picks up when the two lovers begin to realise they are in love. They struggle with the fear, the melody conveying the uncertainty, until finally, they gain the courage to confess. And by the time the song is over, the two lovers are together. 

“We named it Only If You Say Yes,” Jaeyun grins.

“It’s beautiful, Jaeyun,” you say, fighting the growing uneasiness within your belly. Not because of the boy across from you, but a general burning feeling in your body that spreads from your chest to the rest of your body. As if it’s pumping fire instead of blood. 

The frown that contorts your expression springs Jaeyun up to his feet, dropping by your side. “Y/N? Are you okay?” he asks, and while you’d love to nod and say yes, it would be a lie. Nothing about this scorching feeling is okay. 

You hiss and groan, grabbing onto your wrist where most of the pain begins to concentrate. It leaves your other limbs in favour of your right wrist where it burns so much you think your entire limb might melt.

The scream that escapes you is unintentional. You wanted to hold it in, but it was impossible with the pain coursing through you. Jaeyun grabs you by the shoulders, holding onto you. Confused about what is happening to you.

And as he holds you in his embrace, the pain subsides. Slowly but surely, it leaves your body the same way it entered, and you slump against the dark haired boy with your head buried in the crook of his neck.

“Y/N,” he whispers softly, one arm wrapped around your waist to support you while the other moves up to cup your face. He examines you, sweat coating your forehead. 

“My… wrist,” you breathe out, and try to pull away from Jaeyun, but his grip on you is strong, and you can barely do anything without him supporting your weight. So you wait for him to look for you.

“There’s a tattoo,” Jaeyun says, discomfited. Staring at it closer, he grabs onto your wrist. “Golden antlers,” he describes it while his fingers softly trace the pattern, and you furrow your brows, getting a look yourself. 

Jaeyun blanches with a realisation that pains him, glancing at you. “Y/N,” he mumbles, cupping both your cheeks to make you look at him. “It’s his sign.”

You both know who he is. 

Your eyes widen. “But… that can’t be,” you breathe out, shaking your head vigorously. “I know everyone thought it would be me, but I didn’t— I’m not special—”

Jaeyun smiles ruefully, disagreeing with you. “Clearly, you’re more special than you realise,” he says, voice low. “He’ll be paying us a visit soon, then.”

“I don’t want to go,” you say quietly. But what else is there to do? If you don’t go, you will put everyone you care about and other innocent souls in danger. And for what? For your own selfish reasons?

Jaeyun sighs mournfully, hands still cupping your cheeks. “What am I going to do without you for ten years?” he asks himself. 

“Live your life,” you say pragmatically, your hands grabbing his own. “It’ll be fine, right? As long as it means you’ll be safe.”

“Y/N.” Jaeyun licks his lips, wishing there was something he could do for you to make it easier. 

“It’ll be fine,” you repeat to yourself. 

It has to be fine. 

It was not supposed to happen so soon.

Usually, the Forest takes about a month or more since the previous girl’s departure to choose another. But the Forest is not dallying this time, having picked its next target.

Heeseung stares at the golden tattoo on his wrist that connects him with you, not knowing who you are just yet. He will, soon, however, as once the Forest picks a girl, she has to come to him as soon as possible.

He hates doing this, if he’s being completely honest. He’d be just fine living on his own and protecting the people, but in order to keep the darkness in check, there has to be some light. Heeseung isn’t exactly a good fit for that. Which means that every ten years, a girl with the purest of souls must live near the Forest to control it. And with a carefully crafted spell from him, the Forest gets to choose that girl by itself. 

That is the only reason he is now away from his home, riding his horse toward Riverfeld. The village where you live.

Nobody ever knows that he’s coming. He figured it’s better this way, since it stops the villagers from making a scene whenever he does arrive. He learned pretty early on, when it comes to this. He hated how awkward it was when they used to line up just to see at least the tiniest bit of his face, or when they tried to give him gifts instead of their daughters. 

Not how it works. Unfortunately. 

He’d rather take the gifts, too. 

But here he is, entering the small village almost unnoticed aside from the few glances here and there as people wonder who he is. To them, he’s a stranger, and they probably don’t get many of those. He did make sure to dress as a regular traveller, so hopefully they don’t suspect him much.

The tattoo on his wrist calls for its twin, and it pulls him toward the village’s tiny square. A stage has been set up in the centre, and a girl and a boy sit there, both playing the violin together, creating a beautiful song of wistful love. 

A concept Heeseung isn’t familiar with, but he does like the sound of it. It’s a youthful song full of hope. Asking for acceptance where it truly can be found. 

His eyes fixate on the girl playing. 

You.

You are smiling brightly despite knowing your fate, and you don’t stop playing until the song is well and truly over. Both you and the boy stand to bow to the audience when they begin to clap and fawn over you and your talent. 

You keep shaking your head, acting as if you deserve none of it. And the boy throws an arm around your shoulders with a grin, proud for the both of you. Another boy, taller than the other, joins and celebrates with you.

So Heeseung waits. Until everyone around you has said their praising piece to you. Until you’re well and truly alone, and the smile from your lips has dissipated the tiniest bit because you know what will eventually come. That these people who adore you will not be with you for long. That you will have to leave them.

You’re not surprised when he approaches you as a complete stranger. Instead, you look him in the eye and face him directly. “It’s you, isn’t it?” you ask, examining him from head to toe. “You’re the sorcerer.”

It takes a second for Heeseung to recover from it. He has met many girls over the years, each different but same in spirit, and he never thought much of them. But you stand in front of him with a pensive smile, accepting what is to come. There is a beauty to you that many probably don’t see. Though you are gorgeous in general, with big cheeks yet defined features, hair falling over your shoulders. One would have to be blind not to see it.

“Am I that obvious?” he asks, and you shake your head. 

“I think it’s the tattoo,” you reply. “I can sense it. You have it too, right?”

You’re quite clever.

Heeseung nods, and rolls up the sleeve of his cape to show you his identical tattoo. “It connects us,” he says plainly.

You hum. A playful glint enters your gaze, and your smile grows slightly. “I thought you’d be older,” you say matter-of-factly. “You look—”

“Handsome?” He cuts you off because he does not like it when people say he looks young. He knows he looks young. He’s looked the same for the past two centuries, and will continue to do so for as long as the Forest exists.

“My age,” you finish instead. Not young, just your age. That is certainly a new way to describe what he looks like. And he decides at this very moment that he likes it the best. Yes, he can accept looking your age — whatever it actually is. “But I suppose handsome is also a reasonable descriptor,” you add, eyeing his face.

This time, Heeseung is truly robbed of words. Whenever he arrives to take a girl to the Forest, they’re usually afraid of him. The last thing they’d call him is handsome. Yet here you are, standing in front of him, calm and accepting. You’re not crying, screaming or begging to stay. You just are. (a/n: Very demure, very mindful.)

“You should stay for a bit before we leave. My parents are making supper that could feed the whole village. It would be rude to leave before we got to taste it.” You don’t wait for Heeseung’s response before you are making your way toward what he deduces is your home. It’s humble enough, a house fit for a family of four, perhaps. But when you enter, it is filled with more than four people.

The two boys that Heeseung saw with you at the performance are both present alongside some older villagers and a girl some years younger than you. He’s not even sure why he followed you anyway. He should’ve stayed outside and waited for you to say your goodbyes. That’s usually the standard procedure for him, so why is he thoughtlessly breaking tradition all of a sudden?

“Y/N! Who’s—”

“That’s the sorcerer,” you say nonchalantly, shrugging.

“But why—”

“I’m not a monster,” Heeseung speaks, facing the boy you played the violin with. “I won’t take her away without saying her goodbyes… and it’s Heeseung.”

“Who?” you ask.

“Me.”

“You what?”

“Heeseung.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“My name is Heeseung.” He rolls his eyes, lips in a thin line.

“Oh! Well, I’m Y/N. Then this is Jaeyun, Sunghoon, Mum, Dad, Mrs Sim, Mr Sim, Mrs Park, Mr Park and Sunghoon’s little sister.” You point at everyone respectively with a soft smile upon your features. “I’m guessing Jongseong forgot he was supposed to come?” you say more to yourself, but Jaeyun hums in agreement.

“He’s been working on the new guitar that he’s trying to make,” he responds. “Forgets he has other duties or the fact he should, you know, eat and drink and sleep to live.”

“Said it’s for you, though,” Sunghoon mumbles, glancing at you. “He thought he’d have enough time to finish it.” Then he throws an apprehensive glance at Heeseung.

“But I don’t play the guitar,” you reply with a pout.

“He was going to teach you…”

Look, the next words that leave Heeseung’s mouth will probably make him regret it later, but watching you with your friends is doing weird things to the organ in his chest he thought had long been forgotten. So it’s a surprise to not just you and your friends when he says: “I know how to play the guitar. If your friend will not mind it, I will allow that guitar to be sent to you.”

The way your eyes widen in sheer surprise and gratitude makes Heeseung think that maybe it’s not such a regretful action. 

The Forest must’ve truly known what it was doing this time around. Everyone in this village seems to genuinely adore you. The purest of hearts among them all, living without the knowledge of it.

“I’m here! I’m here! I got it!” A boy bursts through the door with a guitar in hand, and Heeseung makes the safe assumption that this is Jongseong. Even in him, Heeseung can sense a very beautiful soul through and through, though the innocence is gone. 

It makes sense that you would surround yourself with people just as lovely as you on the inside. Whether you knew it or not.

“JJ,” you coo when he goes toward you with the instrument to hand it to you. “Why would you do all this for me?”

“So you remember me. Us. To come back to us.”

It occurs to Heeseung then that all three of these boys around you love you. As friends or more that is out of his field of knowledge, but the love between you is raw and just as pure and innocent as you are. 

“I could never forget you guys.” You smile and shake your head. “All three of you better be married and with kids by the time I’m back, though.”

“It’s not fair,” Jaeyun says, properly looking at Heeseung. “She’s a good person. Never done anything wrong in her life. Why—”

“I know,” Heeseung cuts him off, shaking his head. “That’s why.” Maybe being curt with them is not the best choice, but they won’t dare attack him.

“Nothing in this life is fair,” Jongseong murmurs sagely, his eyes finding you. But you are staring at Heeseung, brow arched with curiosity.

“Y/N! Boys! Come eat! Supper is done.”

Your parents did not say much when you introduced the sorcerer to them. They merely stared to assess him as if a mere look could tell them what kind of person he was. But, whatever their consensus was, they let him eat supper with you, so it was probably quite positive.

“Won’t deny supper to the man who fights to protect us on a daily basis,” your mother murmured before you all sat down at the table to eat.

You enjoyed yourself for the rest of the day because Heeseung let you. He was letting you say your goodbyes before ultimately whisking you away to his tower, and you appreciated it. 

Everything is going to be fine, you constantly remind yourself. 

Especially as you saddle your horse with Sunghoon’s help because he’s the tallest of your friends. Jay and Jake help carry your bags and attach them to the white mare. 

Heeseung says the ride to the tower will take a few days, which means that your mother packed enough food to last you a month. It’s a bitter kind of goodbye, knowing that you’re leaving to protect the ones you love. You still don’t really want to leave.

You never imagined yourself leaving home before. But now you have to.

“Are you ready?” Heeseung asks, his inquisitive gaze searching your expression for whatever lie you want to tell him.

And you smile, shaking your head. “Not really,” you reply honestly. “But I have to do this, don’t I?”

Heeseung blinks at you, discomfited by your transparency. “Yes,” he says. “The Forest chose you, and its decision is final.”

“Then I’m as ready as I can be.” You purse your lips, nodding. “Let’s go.”

Heeseung is not a very chatty sorcerer. Like, you haven’t known any sorcerers before him, of course, but the books usually depict them as these supernatural and immortal beings who like to have fun. Heeseung is anything but that. He is quiet and brooding. He only speaks up when it’s important, and you decided it would be better not to ask him many questions while you’re travelling lest you annoy him too much.

But by the second night of staying over at a tavern while on the road, it brings you a sense of peace. Usually, you’re not a fan of lack of communication, but with the sorcerer, it seems to be its own form of speaking and conveying what needs to be known.

You lie on the bed, reading a book provided to you by the innkeeper, biting your bottom lip as you wonder whether the sorcerer would scold you for daring to speak at him. He sits on the chair near the fireplace, merely gazing into the fire in silence.

Sighing, he turns his head ever so slightly to glance at you from the corner of his eye. “If you have something to say, then say it,” he grumbles before his attention is snatched away by the snapping fire again.

You shift in your seat, allowing yourself to fully stare at the sorcerer. His hair is as dark as night, loosely framing his face in waves. His honey-glazed skin looks slightly darker with just the fire casting light upon him, and despite his tall frame and broad shoulders, it seems he makes himself smaller in his chair. He must be exhausted.

“Can I ask a question?”

There is silence at first as if Heeseung ponders whether to say yes or no. Then, he responds, “Isn’t that already one? What stops you from asking another?” He doesn’t even look at you as he speaks, and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I appreciate you being considerate, but if there is something on your mind, just say it. I’ll decide whether I want to answer or not.”

Closing your book, you put it aside. You allow yourself to admire the sorcerer from afar, quite taken by his beauty. Though that is not what you need to quell your mind. “So…” you start, unsure of how to word your question. Though what you come up with is not exactly an elegant way to ask either. “Why me?”

You’re met with another round of silence. It almost feels like a decade of stillness, the only sounds made inside the room being your breathing and the crackling fire. But the sorcerer finally turns to you, swallowing whatever comes to his mind at first to give you a composed answer. “Because the Forest chose you,” he says plainly. “And once the Forest chooses, it cannot be undone.”

“The Forest?” You furrow your brows in confusion. “I thought you chose the girls that stay with you?”

Heeseung shakes his head. “That is not how it works. I made the spell that chooses the girls, but ultimately, it is the Forest itself that chooses which girl must live near it.” The solemn expression in his eyes makes you stop for a moment and think about it.

The girls are taken in order for the sorcerer to protect the surrounding villages from the Forest. And now you know that the Forest chooses the girls itself at that. It makes sense, in a strange way. Because you still don’t understand why you only need to live near it, for it sounds like the girls should be some sort of sacrifice to the Forest. Except you will be allowed to go back to your old life after ten years.

“Then how exactly does that work?” you ask, frowning. “If the Forest chooses the girls, what are the specifics? And what do we do? We just live with you?”

“Yes,” Heeseung answers with a sigh. Licking his lips, he glances back at the fire, then at you. “The Forest is a dark place. In order to control it, there needs to be light. Which is when you come in,” he explains, pointing at your heart. He makes a pause, checking your expression to see whether you were still listening to him, only to find you intently staring at his face, not missing a single word that left his mouth. Clearing his throat, he continued, “I designed my spell in a way for the Forest to find the purest soul within the radius of the villages. This time, it’s you.” 

You purse your lips in thought. Never in your life have you thought of yourself as somebody with a pure soul, but apparently that is who you are, according to the sorcerer and his spell. Which is what got you into this situation of having to leave your childhood home and friends. Because the Forest chose you.

“Wait,” you say, a thought coming to you suddenly.

“Yes?” Heeseung raises his brow, watching your expression slowly change into that of distress.

“If the Forest chose me…” you start, frowning, “Does that mean that the creatures of the Forest would be after me? Whether I am at home or—”

“Yes.” The sorcerer nods in affirmation. “That is part of the magic. The Forest is drawn to you, and therefore, it makes my job of protecting the other villages from monsters that much easier. Since all of them are, well… headed for the tower.”

“For me, you mean.”

Heeseung gives a thin smile. “Even now, the Forest is already searching for you. But while we are on the way, and you are with me, you should be hidden until we reach the tower.”

“You didn’t have to tell me that,” you mumble, wondering how you’re going to fall asleep now, knowing that there are monsters specifically looking for you. Which means that, in a way, you are a sacrifice to the Forest, after all. The sorcerer just protects you and the other villages from them by killing said monsters.

“You asked,” he says with a shrug. “Nobody has ever asked before, so I’m not sure to what extent you’re interested in the topic,” he adds.

It occurs to you then, that maybe the only reason Heeseung hasn’t spoken much is because the other girls never had any interest in speaking to him due to the circumstances. He’s being distant simply because that’s how it’s always been for him.

“So, what exactly am I to do at the tower, once we get there?” you ask to continue the conversation. And unlike you thought, Heeseung does not seem annoyed by your questions at all.

“Whatever you want to do,” he replies. “I have an extensive library if you’re fond of reading. I can teach you to play the guitar your friend gave you. You can choose to pick up whatever hobby you want. All you have to do is just… live there as if it were your home for the next ten years so I can continue to protect your real home and other villages.”

“Okay,” you say, smiling, which takes Heeseung by surprise (again). “That sounds like a good deal, I suppose. I will miss my friends and family dearly, but I can do this.”

The Forest chose far too well, this time around, Heeseung thinks to himself and shakes his head. He’s been doing this for centuries, and he has never met anyone quite like you.

Home.

Heeseung lets out a huge sigh of relief when he finally steps inside the tower that has been his beloved home for many, many years. You trail behind him nervously, all of your luggage already sent to your room with a single flick of his hand. You’re not used to such magic just yet, but as time will pass, nothing will be able to surprise you later on.

Although Heeseung has still been keeping rather quiet around you, you felt more comfortable simply speaking at him because you knew he was listening. During the remainder of your travels, you told him much about your life at home and your friends. Oftentimes, if you asked a question regarding his life, you would wait for his answers even if it took him minutes to respond.

“Let me show you all the important rooms,” Heeseung says to you, the corner of his lips lifting in a smile. He’s not sure what it is about you that makes him behave this way, but your aura seems to wear off on him, too. He’s caught himself smiling more often than usual.

When you nod, he starts the tour with the library. You had told him you weren’t that big of a fan of reading, but whenever you had the time and the mood, you liked to nestle with a good book. He also shows you the kitchen, the washing rooms, his office and your bedroom. There are more rooms within the tower, but for now, Heeseung leaves those doors closed.

“Unpack and make yourself at home,” he says, pointing at the plain room. It is not the same one as the girls before you have had, for this one is much closer to his bedroom and office. He knows he probably shouldn’t have done that, but this strange feeling in his chest told him that he might need to keep a much closer eye on you than the other girls.

“Okay,” you say, nodding. “What will you be doing?”

“I’m going to make us supper,” Heeseung informs you.

“Oh. You can cook?” you ask brightly, and the sorcerer scrunches his nose, shaking his head.

“I hope you like bread with butter.”

You blink at him, speechless. “Who doesn’t like bread and butter?” You tilt your head to the side. “But that isn’t all you eat whenever you’re at the tower, is it?”

Heeseung presses his lips together. “No?” he lies, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“You must let me cook, then!” you claim, ready to storm past him into the kitchens rather than to unpack your things, but Heeseung places his hands on each of your arms to stop you from going anywhere.

“I don’t have any ingredients for cooking,” he says, shaking his head.  “Unless you are the one with magic, capable of making food out of thin air.”

“Well…” You pout, looking into the sorcerer’s eyes. “I do not have magic, but I know a hefty trick for getting ingredients.” You grin, aware of Heeseung’s hands still on you. “It’s called shopping.”

“You can’t leave the tower on your own,” Heeseung sighs. “It’s too dangerous. It won’t happen.”

“Then come with me,” you suggest nonchalantly, still smiling. “You will protect me, and I will make sure we have proper supper. Did the other girls truly agree to living on plain bread and butter?” Your brow furrowed, and Heeseung shrugged.

“Sometimes we had meat,” he says.

“I’m surprised they lasted ten years like this.” You shake your head in disbelief. “We live in modern times. There is much more food to eat than just bread and butter and meat.”

“I never needed anything more,” Heeseung grumbles.

“Well, now you do,” you say finally, crossing your arms. “Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, we are visiting the closest village and visiting their market for ingredients.”

“As long as it’s not too early,” Heeseung says defeatedly.

Living with the sorcerer was much easier than you thought it would be. Even if he constantly complains about you waking him up far too early for chores such as shopping for ingredients. 

Today, however, when you approach his door to wake him up as usual, he opens the door right in front of your nose, pushing a cloak toward you. “Here. With this, you can go to the village on your own.”

“But… it’s a cloak.” You pouted, eyeing the piece of black fabric. It had a slight purple shimmer to it, however, and when the sorcerer spoke next, it confirmed your suspicions.

“It’s enchanted. To protect you from the Forest. It shouldn’t be able to track you while you’re wearing it. So put it on and let me sleep.” Heeseung runs a hand through his hair.

You raise your brow at him, noticing the dark bags under his eyes. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” you attempt to tease him, but he merely sighs.

“More like someone didn’t wake up in the bed because they haven’t even gone to bed yet, trying to figure out the enchantment on this damned thing.” He points at the cloak indignantly. “I need my beauty sleep. I can’t keep going to the market with you,” he whines.

This is the revered sorcerer who protects the people from monsters that you got to know. He’s not any different from your friends other than the fact that he’s centuries older, yet somehow his mind seems to be stuck at a specific age — perhaps that is a thing of immortality. Because one doesn’t age, their mind nor body does not develop any further.

“Well, I was never forcing you to,” you say, finally accepting the cloak from him. “But thank you. I’ll make sure to wear this well.”

“Good.” The sorcerer nods.

“You know you could’ve just told me to stop going to the market if you don’t like it so much, right?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “You’re the one with power here. And I’m the one in danger.”

Heeseung licks his lips and shrugs. “That means you’d stop cooking, though,” he says, not keen on admitting that he prefers your meals to anything he’s had in the last several decades. “Just… go by yourself. And make sure to come back in one piece.”

“How are you so sure I won’t just run away?” you keep questioning him, and he rolls his eyes this time.

“You see this?” He grabs your wrist, pointing at the magical tattoo created by his spell. “We’re connected, Y/N, remember? I will find you wherever you go. But it also means the Forest could do the same thing. Eventually, the enchantment on this cloak could wear out, and if you get stuck somewhere without me and something from the Forest comes for you, then you’ll have nobody but yourself to blame.”

You bite your lip, nodding. He’s certainly made his point. Not that you ever truly considered leaving on your own. You truly are not well equipped to fight monsters on your own. “I understand,” mumbling the response, you yank your wrist out of Heeseung’s grasp.

“Sorry,” Heeseung sighs, rubbing his eyes leisurely. “I don’t mean to be so… irritable. I’m just—”

“Tired,” you finish for him, offering a thin smile. “I know. And I’m thankful for this, really.” You raise the cloak. “Get all the sleep you need, Heeseung. I’ll make sure to come back and prepare breakfast in the meantime.”

“Okay,” he says, allowing himself to grace you with the tiniest smile. Heeseung doesn’t smile often, so the few times that he does, it’s a precious sight. One to be remembered for days to come.

“I’ll get going now. Sleep well, Heeseung.”

As always, the market is buzzing with its early morning magic. Farmers from around the village and many other merchants have their stands prepared, beckoning anyone who shows even the smallest bit of interest in any of their wares. You always like to buy something from each to help them. Besides, the sorcerer’s resources are not exactly limited the same way your family’s used to be.

“No sorcerer today, Miss?” asks the farmer whose wares you’re eyeing. He’s an older man with grey streaks in his hair, and you remember him mainly because he’s always been the nicest to Heeseung out of all the villagers. While the others treat him with distrust and fear, this man has been nothing but respectful. 

“Unfortunately, he chose not to make the trip.” You give a thin smile, shaking your head. “But I plan to make a nice breakfast for him. So, what would you say are your best products today?”

“The sweet potatoes.” A new voice joins the conversation. A boy probably around your age steps into your view, grinning from you to the farmer. “They’ve been growing really well this season.”

“I see,” you hum, examining the newcomer. His big eyes and warm smile are incredibly inviting, and you hope you will see him more often from now on. “I’ll take five, then.”

“Great choice,” the boy says cheerfully, immediately getting to work. “I’m Taehyun, by the way. Are you the new girl living with the sorcerer? It’s a bit novel for us that you’re here since they used to always stay at the tower.”

You smile, making a noncommittal noise. “I’m Y/N. And I think this is new for everyone involved.”

“I’m glad you’re here. It would be a waste for someone so pretty to rot away at the tower,” Taehyun claims, handing you a bag of the best sweet potatoes that he could pick in their batch.

“Stop flirting with the customers, son,” the elder farmer scolds, glancing between you and Taehyun.

Your cheeks burn due to the unexpected compliment. While you are used to your friends telling you that you’re pretty, it’s quite different when it comes from someone you don’t know. “It’s okay, sir. Thank you.”

Taehyun grins, his doe eyes lighting up. “Do you need any more help? I want to ask you some things,” he says, and you turn to his father with furrowed brows.

“What about—”

“Don’t worry, Miss. I’m not that old.” He chuckles, letting Taehyun do whatever he wants. “Besides, you were always curious why I don’t regard the sorcerer with the same apprehensiveness as the others, no?”

You blink at the man. “I suppose yes, but how is that—”

“I have magic,” Taehyun answers simply. “It’s nothing quite grand like the sorcerer’s, but I have it. Look.” Lifting up a sweet potato, Taehyun makes it float in the air, just above his hand. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the potato vanishes and appears back in its original box.

“Woah. That’s still impressive,” you say. “Isn’t it rare, still? To have magic.”

“I think so. But apparently, I wasn’t powerful enough to be allowed to study about it more in the capital.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You pout, but Taehyun shakes his head.

“Don’t be. I learned all I needed to know on my own. And now I get to help my parents with the farm, and don’t have to leave them.” Taehyun smiles, sharing a fond look with his father. 

“That is admirable.” You nod, your affection growing for the boy in front of you with every passing second. Besides, you’re possibly going to see him more often, so why not make a new friend?

“So would you like any help? I can carry a lot on my own.” Taehyun speaks proudly, and you giggle, watching him flexing his arms the tiniest bit just to show off.

“If it is okay with your father that I steal you for myself, then I wouldn’t mind another hand, since Heeseung decided to miss out today,” you agree, your heart swelling at the sight of Taheyun’s toothy smile.

“Completely okay,” the farmer says, shaking his head amusedly.

“So, what are you looking for?” Taehyun claps his hands, plastering himself to your side. “I can recommend all the best stands for everything.”

“That would be lovely, thank you so much.”

“It’s no problem, Y/N. I’m really just trying to spend the most time possible with you.”

You giggle again, taken aback by the boy’s frankness. “I’m not that special, you know?”

“And yet you’re all I want to see.” Taehyun’s lines are smooth, making your face feel hotter than the sun. “Come on, would you like to know where to get the best bread around here?”

And so you follow. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have let Taehyun help you all the way back to the tower, but he was so insistent. You couldn’t tell him no. Especially with his large deer eyes. They almost reminded you of Heeseung’s. 

Almost.

Until he stands in the kitchen, looking well-rested, glaring at Taehyun’s figure. To him, he’s a complete stranger in his home, and you invited him in without asking for permission.

“What is this?” he asks, pointing at Taehyun who has been diligently helping you put all your newly acquired items away. He intended to stay in his study until you’d call for him, but then he heard laughter bouncing off the walls of the tower, and it filled him with dread. “I let you out by yourself once, and you bring a stranger to my home?”

“Technically, it’s also my home for the next ten years,” you argue, shaking your head. “And Taehyun is very sweet.” Smiling at him, Taehyun gives you a grateful nod.

“Just because you think someone is sweet, doesn’t mean it’s still not dangerous to let a stranger into the Tower.” Heeseung scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “Do you realise how dangerous that is? Maybe I shouldn’t let you go out anymore…” he speaks to himself, but you and Taehyun can hear him perfectly well.

“You can’t be serious. Just because the other girls were fine staying inside, I’m most definitely not going to be,” you say, putting your foot down.

“It would be for your own good,” the sorcerer says matter-of-factly.

“My good, or your benefit?” You raise a brow at him. Heeseung’s face contorts in anger for the briefest of moments before he schools his expression, staring you down.

“My benefit? You think any of this is beneficial to me?” he asks you calmly, but it’s somehow more terrifying than if he had exploded with fury. “I have been fighting whatever creatures come outside of the forest for centuries, and I don’t even know why, or why I have to. How in the world could that be beneficial to me?” The question is aimed at you, but it’s clear that it is rhetorical — something he has long given up on finding the answer to.

If you weren’t furious with the sorcerer, you would’ve empathised with him, but all you could hear in your head right now was his threat to keep you locked away in his tower by the forest. “Sorry, I misspoke,” you correct yourself, frowning. “I just meant that you’re the reason why I even have to be here.”

“You think I enjoy that?” Heeseung tilts his head, glaring at you this time. “Fine! Whatever. You are free to leave of your own free will, Y/N. Since you’re, oh, so fine without me.” He says, looking at Taehyun this time. A different emotion flashes in his eyes as he presses his lips tightly together. “I’m sure he would love to protect you anyway,” Heeseung scoffs and runs a hand over his face. 

Your face falls as you glance at Taehyun and then look back at Heeseung. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N—” Taehyun attempts to speak, but Heeseung only laughs. It’s such a deprived sound it almost scares you.

“Are you telling me you don’t know that the person you brought here is currently the youngest Sorcerer General? That he works for the capital as one of the most powerful sorcerers aside from me?” 

“What?” This time, you turn to Taehyun fully. “But you said— did you lie to me?” you ask softly, and as Taehyun apologetically stares down at his feet, licking his lips, you know that he, in fact, did lie to you. “Was the farmer truly your father?”

“Yes! Yes, he was!” Taehyun exclaims immediately, shutting his eyes close tightly before meeting yours again. “That’s why I came to the village. Because he told me that Heeseung has been coming there with you… so the capital sent me.”

“Oh.” You step away from Taehyun, not knowing how to feel. “But you still lied to me.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry— I just didn’t want to scare you off—”

“So you made up a whole lie about how you were helping at the family farm with your magic?” you scoff, shaking your head.

“You should’ve been honest with her.” Heeseung chuckles, rolling his eyes. “Y/N is the most honest person I’ve ever met, so the truth would have hardly scared her off.”

You look at the sorcerer, surprised to hear those words leave his mouth. You’re never sure what exactly he thinks of you, but somehow, knowing that he considers you an honest person warms your heart. He certainly must’ve met many liars in his lifetime. And Taehyun is clearly one of them.

“Yes. So whatever you or the capital want from me, or from Heeseung, just leave us alone. Let them know he’s doing his job just fine.”

“Is he, though?” Taehyun questions, staring at you. “He did let you out of his sight this morning.”

“I have protections placed on me,” you claim, but Taehyun laughs dryly.

“If you mean that flimsy scuffed cloak, then I doubt it was powerful enough to protect you from a monster that wants to directly attack you,” he says, unimpressed. “So, I’d dare say he should do his job better.”

“You little—”

“Don’t.” You sigh tiredly, stepping in front of Taehyun. “I can sense animosity between the two of you, but I’m not willing to hear it. I’m sorry, Heeseung, I see your point, I’ve made a mistake.”

“You don’t need to apologise to him, of all people,” Taehyun says from behind you, and you turn to face him, meeting his big eyes with a blank stare.

“Whatever your problem is with Heeseung, I don’t care. You lied to me, and I don’t appreciate it. The last thing you get to do is insult Heeseung under his roof.” You place your hands on your hips, frowning. “Either be nice, or stay quiet.”

Taehyun clenches his hands into fists, glaring back at Heeseung. But he gives in, sighing in defeat. “He’s not just the reason you have to be living in this tower for the next ten years, you know?” He tells you quietly, enough for Heeseung not to hear. “He’s also the reason the Forest is as dangerous as it is. That’s why he’s the only one tasked with fighting it. So don’t think he’s being honest with you either.”

Colour drains from your face as you listen to him. This time, you’re certain it is the truth because of the graveness in Taehyun’s voice. Though you don’t understand why he’s being secretive about it. Why doesn’t he say it directly even to Heeseung?

Shaking his head, Taehyun moves to leave. “If you ever need help, let me know. I’ll be around, making sure that Heeseung is doing his job well.”

“Dickhead,” the taller sorcerer murmurs under his breath even before Taehyun departs entirely, possibly having heard him. But he didn’t react in any way, simply leaving you alone with Heeseung once again.

You look at Heeseung, not knowing what to think of him now. Though when he smiles at you as if nothing happened, you want to forget Taehyun’s harrowing words.

“Do you need any help with breakfast? I can fry eggs.”

Despite Taehyun’s words, you continued going to the market on your own. You noticed a deer following you around whenever you did so, and you assumed it was another one of Heeseung’s protective precautions to keep you away from danger.

Whenever you come across Taehyun now, he has this distinct look on his face of sharing a secret with you that Heeseung doesn’t know about. Of course, you didn’t tell him. How could you relay such information onto him, not knowing how he’d take it? How would one react to finding out they are the reason so many lives are in danger?

“Ah, crap!” you curse under your breath after what feels like the millionth time of failing to strike the correct chord on the guitar from Jongseong. It shouldn’t be difficult considering your expertise with the violin, but you’re struggling regardless. 

You close your eyes, knowing it’s probably because you can’t focus. You keep thinking back to Taehyun’s words and how it’s somehow his fault that the forest is dangerous. Which also means he is the reason why you’re in danger, and why the forest wants to take you. Though you don’t know how, or what it means.

“Do you plan to torture the poor instrument for long?” Heeseung, as if hearing your thoughts, appears in the music room with a soft, amused smile playing on his lips.

“Sorry,” you say instantly, looking up at him. “I simply can’t seem to figure it out.”

“Allow me.” Heeseung steps closer to you, outstretching his hand to take the guitar.

You let him, watching him nestle next to you on the small sofa that you had chosen for practice. With a smile, he begins playing a song that both sounds foreign and familiar to you. The melody begins merrily, yet as it goes on, the song turns into a mixture of fury and betrayal. A tale that strikes to the very core of your heart, leaving you breathless. 

“What song was that?” you ask once the sorcerer is finished. 

“I don’t know,” he replies honestly. “It’s just been on my mind for a while…” Heeseung tries to hide his confusion, but not even he knew that these emotions have been festering within him.

“Here.” He hands the guitar back to you. 

Accepting it, you let the instrument sit on your lap while Heeseung moves to kneel on the ground in front of you. He’s tall enough to still be at eye level with you, and you startle when his fingers brush against your hand. 

“Sorry, allow me,” he says quietly, taking your hand in his and placing your fingers on the strings of the guitar. “I’m going to teach you some basic chords first, so you don’t torture the guitar at random.”

You blink at him, not sure how to react. With the sorcerer this close to you, it’s hard to process anything, let alone his words. All you can hear is intense buzzing in your ears, and the storm within your heart. 

Gulping, you nod carefully. Heeseung smiles, guiding your fingers along the strings to show you each chord, making sure that you understand everything perfectly. 

It becomes easier when you know the chords. Now that you can connect each sound to what you already know, it doesn’t seem as difficult anymore. With a grin, you find yourself playing the very melody Jaeyun and Sunghoon composed, and it makes you miss home — though in a good way.

Being here means they are safe. That is what matters most. 

“You’re a natural,” Heeseung says, but the proud feeling is gone within moments.

He makes an expression unfamiliar to you as his eyes roam the music room, and you wonder what he is thinking. He abruptly stands up instead, walking toward the window with a frown.

“Stay here,” he commands, closing the window. You shouldn’t be surprised when he disappears as fast as he appeared, but it hurts the tiniest bit.

You watch him head to the forest from your closed window, wishing for him to have told you that he had sensed danger and needed to leave instead of departing almost without a word. 

After hours had passed, you considered running to the village over to find Taehyun so he’d help you find Heeseung somewhere inside the Forest. But as you open the door of the Tower, Heeseung comes stumbling through the entrance, collapsing on the floor with blood splattered all over his clothes. 

“Heeseung!” You cry out, going to examine him and his wounds instantly. He groans when you turn him to his back, and you notice a large bite from what you can only assume was an oversized wolf on his shoulder. “What happened?” you mumble. 

“Your music,” Heeseung whispers. “It’s—”

“No, shh.” Putting your hand over his mouth, you shut him up. “I need to treat your wounds first. Then you can explain yourself,” you say, heart pounding in your ears. 

Heeseung is an immortal sorcerer. This is probably not as severe as it looks to him, but it doesn’t change the fact that it worries you. That you are worried for him.

From the kitchen, you grab a dittany solution and a piece of cloth to wash the wound with, before finding a kit for wound-treating in the bathroom.

Your hands shake while you tear Heeseung’s tunic off of him for better access to the wound. It allows you to see not only his toned chest and stomach, but also the many scars that tatter his honey-coloured skin. 

Pouring the solution over his shoulder, you ignore the hiss he lets out, grateful that he isn’t fighting you. 

You do your best to wash the bleeding wound before dressing and wrapping it in bandages. See, being close to three boys of your age gave you some expertise in treating wounds, but it had never been this severe before. It was never a large bite from a monster of the Forest. 

“I need to get you to your room,” you say weakly, wrapping your arm around Heeseung’s torso. “Can you move?” 

The sorcerer doesn’t respond with words, but he doesn’t let you use all your strength to carry him around either. While most of his weight is still on your shoulders as he drapes his arm over your shoulders, he does his best to walk on his own. 

You never complained about the stairs in the Tower before, but today is the day when they seem to be your absolute doom. Luckily, Heeseung’s bedroom is not too far up. 

Huffing and puffing by the time you reach the door to Heeseung’s room, you’re happy to find relief in opening the door that leads into a large bedroom with… almost nothing inside. Sure, there are some books and a desk, but other than a bed, the room is painfully empty and plain.

You have no time to question it. Instead, you lead Heeseung toward his bed, helping him lie down. But when you want to leave him to rest, he grabs your wrist, not letting you go.

“Heeseung, you need to rest.”

“Don’t leave,” he says, shaking his head. “Stay, please.”

“Heeseung—”

“I need you here.”

“That’s—”

Heeseung, with what strength he has left, pulls you toward him onto the bed. You fall on top of his chest with a yelp, and you seem to be the only one bothered about it. Especially when the sorcerer wraps his arms around you, refusing to let go of you.

“It’s you the Forest wants. He won’t let you go. I can’t protect you if you’re not with me,” he rambles into your hair, strangely frantic. Though you write it off as a side-effect of his injury.

“He can’t have you, Eunjin. Please don’t leave me. You’re my heart.”

Eunjin.

Who’s Eunjin?

When Heeseung wakes up, it’s in a cold sweat. The room spins in his vision, and when it finally settles on the open window, he can only feel a strange sense of emptiness. 

Attempting to move is a terrible idea. Heeseung groans in pain, hand reaching for the bandaged shoulder that you treated. The wound is still fresh, but you made sure to keep it from getting infected. 

His recollection of yesterday’s events is blurry, but he does remember you helping him to his room and him asking you to stay. So finding his room cold and empty without your presence hurts. Not that he would admit such a thing out loud. 

Heeseung is supposed to be the aloof,  mysterious and brooding sorcerer from the Tower, yet you’ve made him smile more times than he can count in the past months that he fears more than usual for your safety. 

He always managed to keep a professional relationship with the other women during his time as Keeper of the Forest, one could say, because keeping distance between himself and people who didn’t want to be here was never hard. However, it proves to be difficult with you. Especially when you act like you actually enjoy his company rather than him being a nuisance in your corner. 

You enter Heeseung’s room without knocking. Though in your defence, you did not expect him to be awake just yet. Breakfast is clutched in your hands, ready to be served to Heeseung on an actual silver platter. 

“Oh. Good morning,” you say softly with a tiny smile. “Are you feeling alright?”

The sigh of relief that leaves Heeseung’s lips at the sight of you and the knowledge of your safety is unfamiliar to him. Obviously, he has always worried for the women staying with him, but never this much. Not when he is the one who got hurt. 

Besides, they never brought him breakfast to bed either. In fact, nobody has ever done that, as far as Heeseung is aware. So maybe the way his heart begs to jump out of his chest when you approach him is an entirely reasonable reaction. 

“I could be better,” Heeseung replies quickly, when he notices a frown forming on your lips because he was quiet for too long. “You didn’t have to do all this,” he says. 

“But you got hurt.” You shake your head in disapproval. “I feel like this is the least I can do,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. 

A sigh of defeat leaves your lips. One that Heeseung is familiar with as he has felt powerlessness many times before. But the last thing you are is powerless. You don’t even know it, but the reason Heeseung had to leave yesterday was specifically because you’re too powerful.

Your music is its own kind of magic, and unfortunately, it lures the creatures of the Forest directly to you. But Heeseung can’t tell you that. Music is an important part of your life, and he’s willing to fight whatever comes for you rather than disappoint you or make you upset. 

There is also this underlying feeling of having come across this kind of magic before. It was from… he cannot not remember who had the magic or when exactly in his life he came across it. Yet he knows it’s important. This person who wielded this magic meant something. Whoever they were. 

“All I need from you is to be safe,” Heeseung says almost too intimately, surprising even himself. Your lips part in shock as you stare at him, hands tightly gripping onto the tray with breakfast. 

Gulping, you nod. “I am safe.” 

You dare moving closer to Heeseung, offering the freshly made breakfast to him with a timid smile, which he accepts gratefully. It isn’t just the tea you prepared that makes him feel warm inside. 

“Please, rest now. I promise not to leave the Tower while you recover,” you reassure the sorcerer.

“But how will you—”

“I wrote to Taehyun,” you reply, and Heeseung hates the pang of jealousy he feels within his heart at the mention of the other sorcerer. “I know he’s been keeping an eye on us, so it was easy to contact him and ask for a small favour.”

“You mean turning him into a delivery man?” Heeseung's brow raises, and you shrug.

“It’s the least he can do.”

Heeseung snorts, amusement filling his bones. Of course, you would be the one to reduce a Sorcerer General of a large army to something as measly as a delivery man. 

And the best part about it? Taehyun is going to do it.

“Thank you,” you say to Taehyun when he enters the Tower with bags of ingredients. Since Heeseung got hurt, you plan to make a large lunch and dinner to help him recover faster. 

“No problem.” The man shrugs. “You had something to ask me?” he adds, since your request for groceries was not the only one you made in your message to him. 

Pursing your lips, you nod. Leading Taehyun into the kitchen to put away the food, you think of the best way to form your question. Though the base is simple: you want to know more about Heeseung. Things that not even he knows, it seems. 

“Oh.” He chuckles in understanding. “You want to know what I meant before.” Looking at you, his brows furrow. “Why the sudden interest? Did something happen?”

You shake your head. “I just want to know what you meant by it,” you argue. “How can the Forest be Heeseung’s fault only?”

“It’s simple, isn’t it?” Taehyun answers with a question of his own. “It’s a curse that he’s not aware of because the curse itself makes him forget. He doesn’t know it himself, but he’s far older than two centuries.”

“He is?”

Taehyun nods. “I don’t know that much myself, but his history is something sorcerers study in the capital. It’s just that all the details are very blurry and every book that mentions him is merely a different interpretation of what could have happened rather than what truly did happen.

“A detail that remains the same, however, is that there used to be seven of them. Seven Sorcerer Guardians who protected a princess of the Old Kingdom. She was a powerful priestess and her magic was beyond anyone’s understanding, so she created these seven sorcerers who helped her as her power grew. But she died alongside them in a war that destroyed the Old Kingdom, and unlike her, the seven sorcerers were reborn in a completely new world with magic that likely came from the princess.

“Nobody knows where the other six sorcerers are. They’re likely alive and well, but we’re not sure where they are nor who they are. But Heeseung… The power he wields now is only a sliver of what he had two centuries ago due to a curse of an unknown origin to us all. And the speculation is that the power that he lacks is now what makes the Forest what it is.”

“Which is why he’s the only one fighting it…” you finish for Taehyun, and he hums. 

“I’m not saying he’s a monster or anything. It’s just that there is so much we don’t know about him.”

“I understand.” You nod. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Where is he anyway? Are you alright?” Taehyun worries for you, and you chuckle. “Do you need anything else?”

“I’m fine, don’t worry. But Heeseung got hurt last night, so I don’t want to leave him here all alone.”

“He’d be fine,” Taehyun scoffs. “We heal faster than normal people. Immortality and all that.” He continues to help you put things away in silence for barely a minute before speaking again. “You’re different from the other women Heeseung has protected in the past,” he claims. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance at Taehyun. “Am I?”

“Something is different about you.” Taehyun nods. “Your aura is so much more… it’s stronger. Like… I think you have magic, Y/N.”

“What? No.” You shake your head in denial. “How could I have magic? Am I not way past the age for finding that out?”

“Magic manifests in many ways, Y/N. Yours could be so subtle nobody ever noticed, but it is there. It’s strong, just not… obvious,” Taehyun disagrees with you.

“But then… why wouldn’t Heeseung tell me that?”

“Why would he tell you that?” Taehyun counters. “I think he’s scared, Y/N. The Forest behaves differently than it used to. It no longer searches anywhere. It’s dormant.”

“But Heeseung fought some creatures yesterday.”

“Because something called them forth. I monitored the Forest’s activity, and it was like… they found what they were looking for last night.”

“Wait…” you pause, staring at Taehyun. “If you were monitoring the Forest, why didn’t you help Heeseung?”

“It’s not in my jurisdiction.”

“Bullshit,” you spit, shaking your head. “You could’ve prevented his injury.”

“He’ll be fine, Y/N.”

“But he’s not fine now!” you counter, shaking your head. “He was partly delirious yesterday and… he called me Eunjin.”

Taehyun’s face turns grave at the mention of the name. “Eunjin’s dead,” he says with a deadpan.

“Yeah? I figured,” you scoff. There are many things you could guess based on what Heeseung said last night. But you did not like the way it made you feel. 

“Eunjin was different from the other women Heeseung has protected,” Taehyun sighs, offering an explanation in an attempt to quell your indignation. “She was a sorceress studying in the capital before, you know, the mark.” Taehyun points at the one you have on your wrist.

“And she died? I never heard of anyone dying—”

“It was covered up well,” Taehyun says. “Besides, we don’t really know if she died. All we know is that she went into the Forest on her own and never came back. Heeseung searched for her, I think, but she disappeared.” A frown settles on Taehyun’s lips, and you study him with your head tilted to the side. 

“She’s the reason you don’t like Heeseung,” you say matter-of-factly.

Taehyun chuckles, shaking his head. “That obvious, huh?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. “Eunjin was my best friend in the capital; we studied together. She was… stronger than me.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” you say, moving toward Taehyun with uncertain steps. Not that long ago, you were still upset with him, but now you want to comfort him somehow. The way he looks at you, with big sad eyes, you can’t resist the urge to take his hand in yours and offer a warm smile. 

“You really need to be careful around him.” Taehyun looks at you solemnly, covering your hand in his. “Eunjin wanted to go into the Forest because of him. Please, don’t make the same mistake.”

“I won’t.” You can’t promise that. 

Taehyun smiles ruefully. “Who’s the liar now, huh?” He clearly wants to say something else, perhaps a wish that should not be spoken aloud, but he doesn’t get the chance.

“Y/N, I think my wound started healing—” Heeseung walks into the kitchen, watching you jump away from Taehyun, yanking your hand out of his grip. Confused, Heeseung glances between you and Taehyun. 

“Woah, that— that is great news!” you exclaim hastily, a large grin breaking across your lips as you pretend not to have learned about Heeseung’s past. 

“See, I told you he’d be fine,” Taehyun adds lamely in an attempt to resume the conversation.

“It’s a relief.” You nod. “Do you need anything, Heeseung? More food? Water? Tea? Coffee?”

“I’m fine, thanks.” Heeseung gives you a weird look. He knows you’re hiding something, but doesn’t press the issue with Taehyun right next to you.

“You do realise you’re not his maid, right?” Taehyun raises his brow at you. 

“Taehyun—”

“Would you prefer it if she was yours?” Heeseung challenges in turn. 

“She’s not property to give out like that.” Taehyun glares at the other sorcerer. 

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” you say firmly, fixing both men with a stern stare. It’s especially pointed at Taehyun because of the conversation you two shared literally moments ago. “I know you two have issues, but do not make me a ball the two of you get to kick around to prove a point.” 

This gets both sorcerers to look at you, their expressions turning apologetic.

“I’m my own person, and I can do whatever I want. If I want to offer Heeseung a cup of tea then I can do that,” you say, looking at Taehyun. They seem to look regretful now, realising that their words may have been hurtful toward you, when that is the last thing they intended. “I think it’ll be better if you leave now, Taehyun.”

“Y/N, I’m—”

“I’ll walk you out.”

tags: @moonpri @addictedtohobi @superbbananananana @strayy_kidz

[phone4pills]

ASKING YOU boy.EXE

warnings

nerves sent shivers down your spine, forming goosebumps all over your arms. you knew you’d have to tell him at some point, but it was all a lot. maybe you could wait until the time actually came. no. that’d be unfair. to you. to Chris.

when you found him, the was doing crosswords in the new hoodie you’d bought him that he adored. his senses were quite delicate and most clothes were uncomfortable to the boy, but the hoodie was perfect. it was soft and not scratchy, fully cotton. but not too warm, in fact it was quite cooling and he found it easier to remain a safe temperature when wearing the piece. “hey, Chris. can we talk about something?”

his head raises, eyes meeting yours with the usual sincerity behind them. his full attention was on you and you debated changing the topic altogether. but you had to talk about this. get it out of the way. “so… uh, you know I’m not gonna live forever, right?”

he nods, patting the spot next to him on the sofa. the atmosphere thickens with the weight of such a sombre conversation on board. “was just wondering, do you want me to… turn you off before I pass away? you don’t have to answer that now-”

he cut you off, clearing his throat. his words came out hushed and kind of scratchy, like there was sorrow scraping his throat. “uh… I uh, I guess it’s your choice.” you shook your head. it wasn’t your choice.

you created Chris and when you decided to keep him on that was when your rights over him became irrelevant. he was his own being in a way. he was made to explore the world and be around humans. but would want to live forever? to watch as the world developed, or destroyed itself? would he feel alone without his creator by his side? but how could he go on living, knowing one day he’d be turned off and have no choice to see the world ever again.

“would I… get to be with you if we both die?” your heart shattered at his words. because you knew that wasn’t a possibility. wherever you ended up after your death, Chris wouldn’t be there. he couldn’t. he was a robot. when he was turned off he’d never exist again, anywhere. wasn’t that meant to comfort you? knowing it wasn’t that deep because he wasn’t a real person? why didn’t it feel good? why didn’t it ease your pain? you wanted to be with Chris forever. no until. simply forever. but you couldn’t. and you both knew it.

“no Chris… we’d uh, we’d not really see each other again.”

Little angst, do you guys think robot!Chris wants you turn him off? Would you do it anyway, out of love or something else?

- ©phone4pills