#and same with my family and hearing updates i didn’t want

[androidboy]

did not sleep for more than 2 hours at a time last night and it was alll stress dreams and nightmares but i think it was a little cathartic. been holding big feelings in without knowing quite what they are and how to handle them or express it and it was a week with a lot of big talks so i did have a dream where i was dealing with family and i was institutionalized and i did have a dream where i got mad at my boyfriend and i think i was just holding in a lot of stress that i didn’t realize was a big deal for my body so just entertaining the ugly emotions and waking up acknowledging im not actually feeling mad or mean at anyone kinda felt nice

[vettelsvee]

YOU SHOULD'VE SEEN YOUR FACE | Sebastian Vettel

Sebastian Vettel x Pregnant Wife!Reader

SUMMARY: Seb's wife is pregnant, but she hasn't told him yet since she doesn't seem ready. However, after he almost crashed pretty badly during a Free Practice session, she can't help but tell him in not the best way possible ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Okay but can you imagine Sebs wife being pregnant but she has not told him yet. He does some dangerous and bold move on a drive and she gets mad and scared and just some fluff when he finds out :)

WORD COUNT: 1804

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of anxiety, overthinking about Formula 1 crashes (?), pregnancy, Ferrari Seb in general (if you know, you know)

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @herdetectivetheorist @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: Hi guys! Finally back to posting fics! This year I don't only want to write more, but also establish some kind of writing routine because I've been dealing with anxiety over Christmas for some personal problems family related and found out that I missed distressing with writing. Also, thank you so much for all the support you've been showing me lately! Appreciate it a lot since I wasn't feeling very comfortable with my writing. Let me know your thoughts on this one <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Despite being quite far from the pit lane, you could hear nothing but the deafening roar of the engines, the clatter of tools on Kimi's car, and the curses of the race engineers at the constant stunts Seb had decided to pull during the free practice session.  

Your husband's red car seemed not just to race but to fly around the track. FP2 had started barely twenty minutes ago, but Seb had already come within inches of crashing into the walls far too many times after going off track more often than you could count.  

You couldn't deny that you had loved watching Seb race ever since you met and you learned he was a driver in one of the most dangerous sports in the world. Today, however, luck was not on your side, and anxiety was consuming you. The nausea, uncontrollable on its own, felt even worse than usual. Not to mention, you felt on the verge of a panic attack.  

"Are you okay?"  

You turned at the sound of Riccardo Adami’s voice, Seb’s race engineer. The Italian removed one side of his headset and covered the microphone to ensure the driver wouldn’t hear anything.  

"Yes, yes, of course," you replied hastily, forcing a smile and suppressing the urge to gag as you felt it rising in your throat. "I’m just a bit more nervous than usual today, that’s all."  

"Seb knows what he’s doing. Don’t worry about that."  

You nodded, but as soon as Adami turned his attention back to his screen, you rolled your eyes and did the same.  

"You know, sometimes he thinks that he’s a cat and has seven lives," you muttered under your breath. "Someone should remind him he’s in an actual Formula 1 car, not in a simulator."  

"Don’t worry, I’ll remind him in the post-session briefing," the engineer joked, flashing a smile before immersing himself back into Vettel's driving.  

You didn’t pay him much attention. Once again, you were entirely engrossed in both your husband’s onboard camera and the telemetry, even though you didn’t understand much aside from the fact that he was setting purple sectors, which was undoubtedly a good sign.  

You didn’t know much about the inner workings of the cars, but after so many years with Seb, you knew that the faster his times were, the higher the risks became.  

You were also acutely aware that your husband was pushing himself too hard in those moments.  

You began to tremble slightly, fidgeting with your hands in an attempt to calm your anxiety, but it didn’t work. Instinctively, and trying not to draw much attention, you placed your hands on your belly and prayed that your child wouldn’t give you any scares like his father was giving you.  

"Sector two in purple as well, Seb!"  

Even though the garage erupted into cheers and applause, you remained motionless. Instead, you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen, which now showed your husband’s car in full view.  

Your panic peaked the moment Seb lost control of the rear of his car and went off the track. You swore that if it hadn’t been for the sudden braking, he would have ended up in the barriers with a wrecked car and himself heading to the medical center because the crash would have likely exceeded the G-force limits.  

When Seb didn’t respond immediately, your heart stopped.  

"I’m fine, I’m fine..." Seb finally said in a disappointed tone. "But I can’t say the same for the car. I think it’s more damaged than it looks."  

"Can you bring it back, Sebastian?" Riccardo asked in a tone that was a mix of irritation and disappointment.  

"Yeah, no problem. Coming back. Sorry, guys."  

Just as no one on the team said anything to you, you, who had forced yourself to sit down because your legs were trembling too much and you felt dizzy, also remained silent until your husband returned and got out of the car.  

Seb removed his helmet, revealing an expression that was hard to decipher. You stood up carefully and approached him, trying to keep your composure. Without giving him a chance to say anything, you grabbed his hand and led him toward his driver room, ignoring Britta's protests to talk after interviews were done.  

"It could have been worse, right?" 

Sebastian closed the door behind him and turned to face you. You stood there with your arms crossed, visibly upset. Your glare alone was enough to tell Seb he was seconds away from one of your infamous scoldings.  

The problem? He had no idea why. You had never acted so strangely over something as common as a collision during a race weekend.  

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you exploded, your voice filled with frustration. “Fuck, Seb, can you explain what that was all about?!”  

“What do you mean, what was that? I was... racing, like I always do, babe,” he replied cautiously, still clueless about what he'd done wrong.  

You, however, didn’t know what was bothering you more: your husband’s calm demeanor or the sight of a few Ferrari team members peeking through the window to catch the drama unfolding between the two of you.  

“You were so close to slamming into a wall, Sebastian, that’s what happened!” you shot back, yanking the curtains shut and flipping off the nosy onlookers. “Are you out of your mind or what?!”  

“Come on, love, I had it under control. What you saw on the onboard might’ve looked bad, but I swear it wasn’t as dangerous as it seemed.”  

“Not as bad as it seemed? Are you seriously telling me that?” you retorted, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you think driving is just like playing a video game now? Do you have any idea what it would’ve meant if you hadn’t reacted in time? Do you know what it would’ve meant for me and for—”  

You stopped yourself mid-sentence, refusing to continue.  

You knew your emotions were running wild because of your pregnancy hormones, but you forced yourself to calm down. Getting so worked up would only lead to a pointless argument with Seb and wasn’t good for you or the baby.  

“For who, Y/N?” Seb asked, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his.  

“For... me! Who else?” you replied quickly. 

Sebastian didn’t know how to respond. He’d never seen you so distressed about his racing, and while he tried to stay calm, inside he was battling a storm of worry and confusion.  

“This stress isn’t good for me or for the situation you and, well... you’ve gotten me into,” you said, your voice cracking.  

“Y/N, babe, I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about. Fuck, I’m pretty worried about you right now with all this shit, but if you don’t tell me what’s going on—”  

“Damn it, Seb! I’m pregnant!”  

You looked down, tears streaming down your face. You clenched your fists tightly, furious at yourself for revealing such big news in such an emotional, unplanned way.  

Sebastian, meanwhile, stood frozen, his eyes wide in shock at the unexpected news. Slowly, everything started to make sense: your morning sickness, falling asleep all the time, constantly complaining about being tired, and the flimsy excuses you gave for not drinking wine, something you normally loved.  

He cursed himself for not realizing it sooner and for believing your weak justifications about bad leftovers being the cause of everything.  

“You’re... pregnant?” His voice was barely audible, almost afraid to say the words out loud because they didn’t feel real.  

You wiped your tears and sniffled, doing your best to meet your husband’s gaze without feeling ashamed.  

“Yes...” you said timidly. “I wanted to tell you in a special way... you know, by giving you a baby onesie in a box with the positive pregnancy test inside, but...” You shook your head and finally looked him in the eyes. “I thought you were going to die out there today and leave your child and me alone. The thought of losing you, now of all times, just...”  

“You’re really pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?”  

You nodded, and Seb couldn’t hold back his tears. He pulled you into a tight embrace and began kissing you tenderly. You melted into his arms, feeling an immense weight lifted from your shoulders.  

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” you admitted. “I swear I wanted it to be special, but seeing you out there today, thinking something could happen to you...” Your voice broke again. “I was terrified, Seb, like never before watching you race.”  

“I’m so sorry, love. I really am,” he said sincerely, cupping your cheeks gently and kissing you over and over. “If I’d known, I would’ve been more careful. God, love, this is incredible... This is the best news I’ve ever received.”  

“You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you sooner? You should’ve seen your face earlier...”  

“Mad? That you didn’t tell me sooner?” You shrugged, your insecurity showing despite your years together. Seb tilted his head, understanding this was one of your rare but extreme moments of doubt. “I’m just... in shock. I can’t believe we’re going to be parents...”  

Sebastian hesitantly touched your stomach, and you burst into fresh tears at the tenderness of his gesture.  

“Now you have to promise me something, Seb,” you said, playing with his hair as he knelt before you, leaving kisses on your belly.  

“Anything for you and our little one.”  

“You need to be more careful from now on. Stop thinking so much with your adrenaline and testosterone, and start using your brain more,” you said, trying not to sound too harsh. “I know Formula 1 and racing is your whole life, but I don’t want you risking it when we’re bringing a new one into the world. I’m eight weeks along, and we still have 32 to go assuming everything follows the perfect pregnancy script.”  

Seb stood and gazed at you, trying to convey the calm you both could only find in each other.  

“Love, I promise,” he whispered softly. “For you, for the baby... I love winning, but today, and even more so when our child is born, I’ll have won the second most important race of my life.”  

You frowned, confused.  

“If that’s the second, what’s the most important race of your life then?”  

He chuckled and scooped you into his arms, kissing you again as he laid you both on the couch behind you.  

“The race I ran for so many years to win your heart,” he murmured between slow, deliberate kisses that said more than words ever could. “After all those years trying to get you to go out with me in high school, and now we’re eight months away from having a baby... what else could it be, mama?”  

[explicit-tae]

WHAT THE HELL EVERYONE WAKE UP WE GOT AN UNGODLY HOUR UPDATE AND A BABY IS INVOLVEDJRIEKFKSKWKDJ I LOVE MY LIFE

this is like so old but why not use this to drop yet another part that i told myself i wasnt dropping

Ungodly Hour (9)

Jungkook forces you to face the reality that you are indeed pregnant - ew.

Warning: jungkook being jungkook, smut ofc, kissing, simp jungkook duh, protective jungkook, dirty talking, creampie, riding, unprotected sex,

“Y/N,” 

That voice. You dreaded hearing it now.

“I say this with the least bit of anger in me…but…what the fuck are you doing?”

Your eyes blink upwards from the soapy sink, the water running as you slowly drop the plate. Jungkook is staring right back at you with a look of pure disappointment. It’s as though you ruined his mood entirely. He had strolled through the door happily as ever with groceries he was going to prepare the two of you to eat and the smile on his lips disappeared in an instant.

“Washing the dishes.” you deadpan, turning off the water. You already know what Jungkook is going to say and you have to mentally prepare yourself for it.

“You can’t do things like this-”

“You can’t do things like this, Y/N, you’re pregnant.” you mock him with a roll of your eyes, an act that catches him by surprise.

“I’m serious.” Jungkook shakes his head and places the bags of groceries onto the island and rounds the corner to meet you. 

“Ever since we found out about this, you’ve gone insane.” you cross your arms with a tilt of your head. “I can’t wash dishes. I can’t walk alone-”

“For your safety, of course.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “You’re the true crime watcher. You know what happens when girls walk alone.”

“Can we explain why I can’t wash dishes then?” you tilt your head.

“I may not have the answer, baby.” Jungkook places a hand on your chin and presses his lips to your forehead to peck them. “I’m sure 1,000 ways to die does.”

Jeon Jungkook was determined that this pregnancy was going to be handled with care. The amount of emotions he’s gone through alone at the realization of even the possibility that you were pregnant was overwhelming. Witnessing the positive pregnancy test and even getting to sit through doctor visits for added confirmation had filled him with emotion.

“I told you in the Jeon family that the woman has to relax.” Jungkook begins to take out the groceries he has bought. “You think my mother was straining her back when she was pregnant with me and my brother? Of course not.”

Jungkook then turns to look at you, eyes fixed. “Speaking of labor…did you quit your job yet?”

Not this again.

“We’ve been through this.” you wipe your hands on your shirt lazily and go towards the fridge. You would help him put the groceries away on a good day. However, Jungkook was adamant on you doing absolutely nothing that could harm you or the child you were barely pregnant with.

“We have.” Jungkook nods.  “And I want you to quit.”

“I don’t want to quit.” you don’t look at Jungkook and instead go towards a few slices of cheese to make yourself the perfect grilled cheese that you were now envisioning in your mind. 

“You always complain about how stressed you are working there.” Jungkook deadpans. “What if they have you stock?”

“Then I’ll stock.” you shrug, again focusing on the grilled cheese. You’re buttering the sliced bread when you speak again. “My mother didn’t raise a bitch.”

You then knit your brows and hum. In a way she did. Your bitchy attitude towards Jungkook had diminished when you realized that you, dare you say, love him. Especially now that you were very much pregnant by the same man you claimed you’d never give a chance to. How the universe humbles you is amazing.

“Y/N…” 

Jungkook takes a deep breath. He turns to face you fully, crossing his arms. You’re carefully placing the cheese onto the bread and he watches you place it into the air fryer. You turn to him with a displeased look.

“You don’t even like working there.”

True.

“I know.” you nod your head. “I have-”

“Don’t say you have bills.” Jungkook interrupts. “I pay all of your bills.”

Your eyes turn  to small slits for a moment.

“I’m saving money.” you shrug again. “For the baby.”

Jungkook’s gaze softens a bit, but he has to remain strong. If he gives into you now then you’d never quit.

“Why?” Jungkook questions. “We have enough money.”

“You,” you scoff. “have enough money.”

“I don’t know what that even means, Y/N.” Jungkook shakes his head. 

“I can’t have you pay for everything while I sit around and not do anything.”

Jungkook blinks a few times and his response shouldn’t surprise you. It’s Jungkook, after all. “Why not?” he questions slowly, genuinely confused. Probably because he already pays for everything now and he was completely fine with it.

Your hands begin to rub at your temples and slowly you begin to laugh. 

“How long are you planning on working there, anyways? Soon you’ll begin to show. School is already stressful enough, don’t you think?” Jungkook decides to take this time to put away the groceries so it doesn’t appear that he’s being too demanding of you and your wishes. “You can always…take a break from both. Just relax.”

The airfryer beeps and you thank the universe for giving you a bit of a distraction. You don’t want to think about school or work now and all you wanted to do was sink your teeth into this grilled cheese.

“We still have to tell our parents.”

Another situation you were holding back from, even if it has been three months since you initially found out. You had held off telling anyone in your family and - even now - it was awkward meeting Jungkook for the first time to reveal that you were pregnant. Besides, you weren’t that far along and you didn’t necessarily look pregnant. Chaeyoung thought you did but that was only because she knew and always insisted on touching your “bump” that you swore wasn’t there.

You take a big bite of the sandwich and swallow yourself in a silent self-pity party. 

“I know.” is all you say in response to Jungkook. 

As the last item is put away, Jungkook then drops yet another statement that shouldn’t surprise you. 

“I found somewhere bigger for us to move.”

You lick your lips, whipping your head to look at Jungkook. 

“Bigger?” you hum. “This place is already huge.”

“Not big enough for a baby.” Jungkook tilts his head. “They’ll need their own room eventually. It’ll grow into a child then a teenager and-”

“Please,” you close your eyes for a moment with a shake of your head. “you’re getting too far into the future.”

“Someone has to.” Jungkook retorts. “I’ve been looking in the area for us to upsize. I didn’t want to get anything without your approval.”

“You don’t need my approval.” you snicker. “Just get-”

“Stop doing that.” Jungkook’s tone changes to one that’s more serious. 

You take the last bite of your grilled cheese just as the mood changes. You knit your brows at the man. 

“You and the baby, Y/N,” Jungkook begins, taking a few steps closer to you. His hair had grown back out from the cut he initially did and it bounces with each step. “are my top priority. I want to take care of you. Your opinion still matters at the end of the day.”

There’s something in you that shifts and you blame the baby completely for fucking with your hormones. 

Jungkook is taken aback when your eyes begin to become glossy and you begin to cry right in front of him. For a moment he’s stunned, thinking that he has said something to you that caused you to cry. Then, he understands just how emotional you were (thanks to the fetus inside of you) when you crash yourself into his chest and begin to sob.

“This pregnancy is kicking your ass already.” Jungkook jokes, but his arm wraps you into a hug, one hand soothingly rubbing your back. 

“Fuck you.” you sniffle.

“I did and this is how we got here.” Jungkook jokes with a chuckle. “You’re crying now but…I think you’re going to hate me soon.”

“Why?” you murmur against his chest. 

There’s a quick knock on the door followed by it beginning to jingle. You slowly lift yourself from Jungkook’s chest, eyeing him suspiciously. 

“Remember that I love you.” Jungkook presses his lips to yours, pecking it. “And, I love our baby.”

“Jungkook…”

You can hear voices enter - unfamiliar ones. 

“I invited my parents over for lunch.” Jungkook says quickly. “Please don’t hate me, Y/N, my mother has been begging to meet you for months and-”

Your hands dig into his shirt, your eyes widening. Your sadness - caused by the great amount of love and adoration you felt at his words - appeared to diminish on the spot.

“You did what?!” you hiss, teeth gritting.

“Jungkook?”

That must’ve been Jungkook’s mother calling for him, followed by a pair of footsteps inching closer to where you two were. 

Fuck Jeon Jungkook. Now you were panicking - probably more than you needed to be. Jungkook told you stories of his parents and how excited his mother was to meet you. He claimed he spoke highly of you to her and you didn’t doubt him. Still, you looked a mess. You weren’t dressed to meet even your own parents right now. There’s a stain on your shirt and the pajama pants you wore were Jungkook’s iron man ones because they were comfy. 

Fuck Jeon Jungkook again.

“I hate you.” you murmur as Jungkook turns around just as his mother peaks her head through the kitchen to find her son.

“Ma!” Jungkook gushed, opening his arms to greet his mother with a hug that he met her half way to. 

“Your hair has gotten so long since the last time I saw you.” you hear his mother speak, her voice soft and motherly-like. “You never come around anymore.”

“I saw you a month ago.” Jungkook snorts. “I’ve been busy. Where is-”

“He’s stuck at meetings all day.” his mother adds, already knowing what her son was going to ask concerning his father. 

You stand awkwardly behind Jungkook, your nerves beating your ass mentally.

“Ma,” Jungkook slowly steps aside and turns around. “this is-”

“Y/N.” she finishes, coming a bit closer to you to wrap you in a hug. It stuns you for a moment and Jungkook offers a soft smile when she does. You proceed to hug her back, your irritation towards her son slowly dying down. “I thought I was never going to meet you.”

Jungkook exhales, holding in a breath he wasn’t aware of. “We’ve been busy-”

“That’s what he’s been saying.” his mother now speaks to you with a shake of her head. “You’re so cute.”

Your body burns with embarrassment at her compliment but you gently thank her. You look a mess, truly, and the more you remember this, the more you think about how you wanted to punch Jungkook in the gut. 

“I was just about to start lunch.” Jungkook claps his hands. “You and Y/N can relax while-”

“I can help.” you suggest.

“No.” Jungkook deadpans, his eyes widening a bit. He makes a gesture with his head at his mother right in front of you. It’s as if you wanted him to die.

You release a huff. No physical labor. Wouldn’t it look more suspicious if you didn’t help? Then his mother would suspect something.

She could also suspect that you were lazy and using her son for-

“His father cooks all the time.” his mother holds onto your hands and offers you such a warm and kind smile. “That’s where he gets it from.”

Jungkook’s mother was a kind woman and she appeared to like you just as Jungkook said she would. She speaks fondly of her son and shares stories of his childhood, all the while Jungkook cooks in the background. He makes you tea, one you usually drink when you feel sick and serves his mother some wine.

“I thought I’ll never get to meet you. Jungkook kept you locked up in here.”

Jungkook chuckles softly at the tone his mother gives him, his cheeks flushing. 

“I…I’ve been busy.” you laugh off, as well. “If I would’ve known you were coming I would’ve…dressed better.”

“Nonsense.” his mother shakes her head with a hearty laugh. “It took a lot of self-control to not come here myself and meet you. You bring so much joy to Kookie’s life.”

Jungkook remains silent, plating the food for the three of you. He glances your way to silently assure that you weren’t overwhelmed. You’re a bit flustered as he can see but comfortable nonetheless.

“Okay~” Jungkook sing-songs after a few more minutes, placing two plates in front of you and his mother. He goes to serve you two some water, as well - extra ice for his mother and just a few cubes for you. Just the way you two enjoyed it.

Jungkook has always enjoyed watching you eat and it increases now that you’re pregnant. He - unbeknownst to you - began to search for what was healthy for the child and how he could introduce it to you in a way you’d enjoy it.

“When are you guys going to tell me?”

You stop chewing to focus your attention on Jungkook's mother.

“The tea…the constant sneaking of stomach rubs…” her eyes lowered to Jungkook’s hand indeed on your stomach - he insisted on touching it whenever because he swore he could feel something, even if you told him that was impossible. “...the fact that I finally was able to meet her after months.”

Jungkook gently taps your thigh as he faces his mother. She offers a little eyebrow raise.

“Okay then, Ma.” Jungkook shrugs. “Y/N’s pregnant. I’m looking for a bigger-”

“I hope it’s a girl.” Jungkook’s mom sighs out. “I’m so sick of all the men.”

She was actually excited, even wrapping you in a hug.

“We can just wait a little longer-“

“We’re not waiting longer, Y/N.” Jungkook cuts you off.

You release a short sigh, your nerves eating you alive at this very moment. 

You didn’t want to have to do this - not now at least. You had time. You could even pop up randomly in a few months with the baby in hand if it meant avoiding telling your parents.

It wasn’t as if your parents were the traditional type. They weren’t married when they had your brother and by the pictures you saw, your mother was heavily pregnant with you at her own wedding.

Still, you always told them that a child was the last thing you wanted, if at all. Your mother always told you it was because you didn’t find a man worth giving a baby to - and you hated to be told “I told you so”.

Your parents were expecting you and Jungkook for dinner this Saturday evening. It was becoming a habit that she saw you and Jungkook once every week. She would gush about how handsome and smart Jungkook was and how happy she noticed you were lately - ew. 

“Why are you so hellbent on waiting anyways?” Jungkook asks. “My mother already knows.”

“That’s because you trapped me.” you seeth.

Jungkook chuckles, poking your cheek playfully. “Because of situations like this, baby.” he says, knocking on the front door. Usually, you would walk in, yet he noticed just how much you were stalling and decided to take things into his own hands. “It’s now or never.”

“I hate you.” you hiss, turning around just as your mother opens the door. “Mother..” you murmur.

“Why are you knocking, Y/N? Come in!” she says, wrapping both you and Jungkook into a hug. “You look even more handsome, Jungkook.”

You roll your eyes and scoff, going deeper into the home. Your brother was already here and appeared to be in a heated debate with your father in the living room while his children, really your niece, ran wild.

“Stop running.” you say to her as she nearly crashes into you. “Or you’re going to fall.” Eventually.

“You’re mean.” was all she responded with and continues to run. Your nephew has since learned how to walk and he attempts to follow his sister, yet he’s much slower.

You release a sigh - this is what your life was going to be soon. A child running around not bothering to listen to you in the slightest.

“I have some wine,” your mother makes her way towards the kitchen where you and Jungkook follow. There’s a pot boiling on the stove and the aroma alone causes your stomach to churn. “Y/N, grab the wine glasses.”

“Hey Jungkook!” your niece runs past you, nearly causing you to stumble to get to the man. She widens her arms. “Can you flip me like you did last time?”

“No.” you deadpan.

“Sure!” Jungkook exclaims.

You sigh.

You grasp two wine glasses, one for your mother and the other for Jungkook. 

Your niece is occupying Jungkook’s time with the amount of time she demands to be flipped while your nephew - who manages to waddle over - watches with slight amazement.

“Why are there only two wine glasses?” your mother asks. 

“I’m not really in the mood to drink.”

Jungkook glances your way, furrowing a brow.

“Why not?” she asks. “You’re always in the mood for wine.”

You shrug your shoulders, hoping that would be the end of it. You make your way to the cabinets to find yourself something to munch on.

“How about a beer?” she asks you, going to the fridge to open it and look for whatever your father has in there. “We have-”

“I don’t want a beer.” you say, taking out some cookies. “Really, mom-”

“Are you sick, Y/N?”

You turn around to face her. “Am I really that much of an alcoholic?” you question, unsure why you declining alcohol was such a big deal. 

“Don’t be so dramatic.” your mother waves you off.

You roll your eyes and dig into the cookies. Your eyes watch as Jungkook begins to play with both kids now, your niece on his back while he swings your nephew around. You swallow, tilting your head a bit at how content he seems to be. They were treating him like a jungle gym but he actually enjoyed it.

“I actually have a bottle of champagne.” your mother says, dragging you out of your thoughts. You hadn’t realized she left the kitchen until she returned with said bottle of champagne. “Expensive, too. I actually bought it on sale!”

Your mother this time actually takes the initiative to grab three glasses herself and pour. Jungkook gives your niece his phone to occupy her while he places your nephew on his shoulders. He strolls over to where you are leaning against the counter.

“Mother…”

“Jungkook.” she hands Jungkook his glass, the bubbling champagne sizzling inside. “And Y/N-”

“I don’t want anything to drink.”

“Well I don’t see why not.” Jungkook gently chuckles at your mothers words. “Jungkook is-”

“I don’t give a damn what Jungkook is doing.” you munch aggressively on another cookie. “He’s the one that got me pregnant.”

Your mother falls silent for a moment, her eyes slowly widening as she registers your words. Your nephew has his chubby hands on Jungkook’s forehead, his chin resting atop of his head. Jungkook is grinning encouragingly. “Not exactly how I wanted to tell you…” he trails off.

“We could’ve said it over dinner if I wasn’t pressured to drink.” you huff, continuing to munch on your cookies in peace. You admit that now that your mother knew, it did take a weight off of your shoulders.

“Preg…nant…?”

Your mothers behavior is different for Jungkook. She’s such a bubbly person that her state right now - wide eyes and shock - has him questioning if she was disappointed or not. He swallows, a deep sorrow running through him. He slowly puts your nephew onto the ground so he can waddle away and he comes face to face with your mother. 

“I love Y/N.” Jungkook exclaims, eyes determined. He didn’t want your mother to think that he was just going to get you pregnant and not plan on being there for you. Sure the two of you were young - but Jungkook loved you and the baby. “And I promise to love her and the baby unconditionally-”

Your mother begins to cry, shuttin Jungkook up. The sorrow runs through him again and his eyes widen. Has this been a mistake?

You roll your eyes. “Happy tears.” you tell Jungkook, not wanting him to break into tears too by getting the wrong idea from your mother. “She’s always this dramatic.”

“My baby,” your mother wraps you in a tight embrace. “is having a baby!”

Jungkook lets out a sigh of relief.

“And by such a sweet and handsome man!” she continues to gush, thanking the heavens that it was by Jungkook, someone she was praying you didn’t scare away with your attitude.

“You’re supposed to scold me about finishing college.” you say, hugging her back. 

“You can still finish college. Don’t be rash.” your mother squeezes you a little tighter. “Don’t stress yourself too hard.”

“That’s what I said!” Jungkook pipes in, nodding his head. “She doesn’t even want to quit her job and allow me to support her.”

You gasp, glaring at Jungkook. He knows that your mother would take his side and this was his plan all along.

“Why must you be so stubborn?” your mother releases you from her tight embrace and scolds you with hard eyes. “It’s not about you anymore, Y/N-”

“Not you, too.” you groan. You didn’t have time for this right now.

“My mother and I are searching for bigger homes.” Jungkook smiles at your mother. “I would love for you to join us.”

“Kiss ass.” you grumble, taking a whole cookie into your mouth.

“I would love to!” your mother is brought to tears again at how loving and genuine Jungkook was. It’s as if she couldn’t believe it. “Have we thought of names-”

“We don’t even know the gender.” you shake your head.

“I,” Jungkook places a hand on his chest. “want a girl.” he admits.

Your mother again sobs - because men typically wanted boys. You roll your eyes right out of your head at how dramatic she was being.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook for having your mother love him harder.

“That was easier than I expected.”

After dinner with your family - where your mother dramatically shared the news of your pregnancy - you and Jungkook returned back home. It felt, dare you say, great not holding in such a secret any longer. Especially since you didn’t feel disappointed.

You always envisioned yourself having a steady career after college and if you found the right person, then marriage. You didn’t like to look too far into the future and think of children, but you suppose now you had to.

“You and your mom are so much alike.” Jungkook chuckles, his hands rubbing along your back. “So emotional at times.”

“Fuck off.”

Jungkook only grins wider, massaging your lower back. He does this every night now, even lighting candles to further relax you. He makes it harder to not depend on him - and that's exactly what he wants.

“Have you thought about what I said?” Jungkook questions. “About working?”

You sigh, your eyes closing. 

“I have.” you murmur. “...you aren’t going to stop pestering me about it.”

“Of course not, baby. You can’t work while pregnant.” Jungkook scoffs. “The man is supposed to provide.”

“It’s the 21st century.” you find your lips curving into a soft smile at his words - fuck Jeon Jungkook for feeling this way. “What if I get bored?”

“You wouldn’t. You’re always sleeping or eating nowadays.”

Your eyes snap open and you furrow a brow.

“Besides, we need to prepare for the baby.” Jungkook’s hands curved on your neck, rubbing his thumbs into it. You sigh low. “Buy baby clothes…furniture.”

You hum, nodding your head slowly. You’ve come across a few baby items that cause your heart to jolt at how adorable they were. You could just imagine decorating the nursery for the baby alongside Jungkook, clothing the baby in little clothes. Getting to see Jungkook hold the baby in his arms similarly to the way he holds your nephew.

Jungkook leans away as you turn to lay on your back. Your eyes flutter open to look at Jungkook. He tilts his head. “Are you okay?”

You nod your head, hand reaching out to touch Jungkook’s. His fingers entangle with yours. “It feels…weird.” you confess. “Being pregnant…we’ll actually be parents soon.”

Jungkook brings your hand to his lips and presses light kisses. 

“I’m happy.” Jungkook admits, though the both of you knew this. “It’s sudden. But…I’m happy.”

Your heart flutters and you lick your lips. “I’m happy, too.” you whisper. “You’ll be a good dad.”

Jungkook’s eyes slightly widen at your words and his heart flutters. Jungkook deepens the kiss on your hand. “You think so?” he murmurs, lowering himself to face you. His breath tickles your skin.

“Yeah.” you nod. Your hand untangles from his and you place it onto your cheek. Your thumb traces his lips - moments like this wasn’t rare anymore. You were more loving to Jungkook now, especially seeing how he was. You’re reminded constantly how good Jungkook treats you and there wasn’t a reason to (pretend) not to like him or his actions.

“You’ll be so good to us.”

You connect your lips to his, hand on his cheek now clasping on his shirt to bring him closer. Your legs wrap around his waist to cage him in.

Jungkook moans into the kiss, cupping your naked thigh, shorts riding up your upper thigh. 

“You’re just trying to make me feel good.” Jungkook snickers.

You hum, connecting your lips to his again, pecking gently. “I want you to fuck me.” you murmur against his lips, going to remove your shorts in a rush.

Jungkook chuckles, licking his lips. “Of course you do.” he states, voice deeper. He wasn’t opposed to this, however. He wanted you whenever you wanted him.

“Don’t act like you don’t want me either.” you manage to get out of your shorts, panties sticking to you.

“I always want you.” Jungkook rushes to do the same, removing his sweatpants. His cock throbs at just the thought of being inside of you. “This is why you’re pregnant now.” his hands go to tug at your panties, fingers forcing their way past them to touch at your clit. “Wanna taste you…”

“No.” you say, pushing him away. “I’m too impatient for that.”

You just needed Jungkook inside of you, no foreplay needed - for now. You push your panties off and swing your leg over to get atop of him.

“Fuck - okay.” Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He loved foreplay with you - you on his tongue or his fingers deep inside of you. He loved it all.

Your hand reaches back to grasp his cock, centering it at your entrance. You bite your lip, fluttering your eyes to look directly into Jungkook’s ones.

You enter his cock slowly, your lips parting to release a moan.

Jungkook pushes his head deeper against his pillows, his hands placed on your hips as you begin to buckle them. “You’re so beautiful…”

“I barely did anything yet and you’re already simping.”

It’s flattering, however, that it doesn’t take long for Jungkook to indeed simp for you. 

You sit on Jungkooks cock fully and shudder. The hair on your skin rises at how full you feel with him inside of you. It’s a feeling that isn’t foreign, yet a sensation that you could never get enough of.

You don’t bother to waste any time, immediately going to buckle your hips in a rhythmic motion that has the man groaning beneath you. You rarely were the one in control, but when you were it always drove Jungkook crazy. Maybe he was just obsessed with you as you said.

You lean back, head pushed back and your eyes closed with your hands begin to roam his chest. To Jungkook, you were beautiful like an angel who’s light is shining brightly down at you. He just knows the way you fuck yourself against his cock that it feels good to you. Your pussy is squelching and your moans only grow louder and louder by the second.

“You’re getting tired.” Jungkook notes, instantly thrusting upwards to meet you halfway. “I can take over.”

You don’t fight him - you never did. However, Jungkook doesn’t move from his position and instead continues to ram into you, his nails digging into your skin. 

“It’s…so deep.” you groan, your head hanging. 

Stamina unmatched, Jungkook's hips never halter. His eyes are unblinking, as well, watching every reaction this caused. 

Jungkook leans forward to wrap both arms around your body protectively, continuing his brutal pounding. His lips leave wet kisses upon your skin, a need to taste you like he always does - but he understands you need to cum now.

“You look so pretty on my cock. Like always…”

Maybe it’s the pregnancy that allows you to have this new found glow to you - that or his mind was playing tricks on him. Regardless, he wants nothing more than to cum deep inside of you like the both of you desire. 

“I know you’re going to cum…” Jungkook continues, this time placing his lips onto yours.You two engage into a heated kiss turned makeout session, somehow him never ceasing his thrusts. Your tongue dances with his and all you could truly think about was cumming right now.

“...g…gonna cum…” you say between kisses, your hands tangling into Jungkook’s dark tresses for support and he doesn’t mind in the slightest. “....wanna feel you cum in me.”

Jungkook groans - this is why you are pregnant now, he thinks - such dirty words and needy-like that he cannot help but give you what you want. His tongue licks onto your skin, trailing down your jaw to your neck. His teeth clamp down onto your skin.

You’re cumming as Jungkook’s teeth continue to nip at your skin, eyes fluttering close. Jungkook himself isn’t far behind, sloppy thrusts pounding deep into your wound and echoing off of the wall until he too is cumming hard, milky ropes of cum painting them entirely.

months later….

@minaamhh @suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @xtrataerrestrial @danielle143 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @subtaegguk @jingerbreadoutofstock

[woozisguitar]

seungcheol as your brother Joshua's bestfriend but he hates you and you hate him because you always pulled pranks on him. that was when you were 16, your parents separated and you and joshua just talked a few times, now you are Joshua's wedding and seungcheol is his best man and damn, you both have that jitters of suggestive enemies to lovers thing going on. does it make sense???

congratulations on your 200 followers btw!!!

YES IT DOES OMG! sorry this took so long and hope you enjoy <333

ps: let me know if you figure out the Taylor Swift reference I sneaked in heh

requests for 200 celebration post: open (but slow updates!)

warning: grinding, implication of them sleeping together at the end but nothing explicit, kissing, so much kissing, language, bad flirting? idk, seungcheol biceps (yeah that's a warning), lmk if I missed anything!

for as long as you can remember, it has always been you, joshua, and seungcheol. all your childhood and a good part of your teenage memories are full of them. sure, being a couple of years apart meant you were in different grades, but joshua always liked having you around and didn’t mind you hanging out with his friends. he knew you were a little antisocial, always scared of approaching people first, and as an older brother, he was rather protective of you.

seungcheol, on the other hand, hated your guts. sure, it might have had something to do with the constant pranks like switching out the sugar in his coffee with salt, or shaking the soda bottle and watching him try to open it for the girl he was trying to sweet-talk, only for it to fizzle out all over her. but in your defense, he did take revenge almost every time, like switching out the ink in all your favorite pens with empty refills. you know, harmless stuff. joshua tried to stay out of it entirely, always refusing to pick sides. his only argument was, “how can i pick one between my best friend and my sister?”

safe to say, you and seungcheol would’ve been at each other’s throats all the time if it wasn’t for the shared admiration for joshua. that was until the night that changed your lives forever.

your parents came home from work and called for a family meeting at the dining table. they informed you and joshua that they were getting a divorce and you’d each have to pick a parent to live with. not a thought, not a maybe, but a fact. you knew they had made up their mind but still tried to ask them the reason. “we simply fell out of love, that’s all,” your mom said, looking down at her clasped hands.

it was that night you found out that people can also fall out of love. joshua didn’t know how to react. he got up and left, mumbling something about spending the night at seungcheol’s. you excused yourself and locked yourself in your room. you knew this was going to change your lives forever.

the date of the final hearing fell on the same day as your 16th birthday. by now, joshua had accepted that this was happening and he’d have no say in it. you, on the other hand, tried not to think about it, throwing yourself into assignments and projects. it was joshua’s idea to take you to the yogurt shop before going to the court—a small way to still celebrate your birthday.

there, seungcheol worked behind the counter, in his teal t-shirt, and you knew this might be the last time you’d see him. your mom wanted to move back to the states, and you couldn’t let joshua leave his friends and life behind. it’s not like you had a lot of friends here anyway; they all knew you through joshua. for the first time, you wanted to give him something in return for all the love he gave you.

joshua dropped you off at the airport with seungcheol. he hugged you tight, eyes brimming with unshed tears, whereas seungcheol looked grim. “don’t miss me too much, asshole,” you teased seungcheol through your own tears as you moved to hug him. he just rolled his eyes in return. “take care of him for me,” you whispered, and seungcheol gave you a small nod in return. you gave them one last look before turning around to your new life.

years passed since the divorce. now you’re in your mid-twenties, and you like to believe your life is pretty stable. you made a few friends in high school and some really good ones in university. you were still in contact with joshua, maybe not as often as before, but you still tried to make an effort to have some semblance of a sibling relationship. you knew he was in a long-term stable relationship, and you loved his partner to death. she was everything and more you could’ve asked for your brother.

you, on the other hand, didn’t have much luck in the romantic areas of your life.

one evening, your brother decided to drop the news of his wedding. you were happy, of course—why wouldn’t you be? joshua was going to spend the rest of his life with someone he loved so dearly. but a small, selfish part of you was scared at the idea of going back to a place you used to call home. you still didn’t feel ready to meet the old ghosts that haunted you. yet, for joshua, you decided to bite the bullet and booked your flight tickets.

when you landed, you saw a message from joshua apologizing for not being able to pick you up as he had to meet with an event planner. however, in his stead, he sent over seungcheol.

making your way through the exit, you looked for seungcheol, and your eyes landed on him. the last time you saw him, you were 16 and he was 18. his then scrawny body had filled out, and a buff, beautiful man stood in front of you. you weren’t particularly in contact with him after leaving, only ever seeing glimpses of him on joshua’s social media, and god did he change.

the first thing you noticed was that he was taller. taller than when you last saw him. and bigger too. the sleeves of his black t-shirt fit him a little too well, and you could tell he didn’t miss gym days. the idea of having his arms cage you under him popped into your head, but you quickly shook it away. this was seungcheol, for god’s sake! joshua’s best friend. but the tiny devil on your shoulder whispered how you weren’t technically that kid anymore.

you may have spent a good five minutes staring before seungcheol noticed and waved you over. “took you long enough,” he said, raising an eyebrow. for a pretty face, he still had the same annoying personality.

you just shrugged and blamed it on customs, trying not to stare at his biceps when he was helping you load your luggage. “so, you’ve changed. how’ve you been?” he asked once on the road. “you’re not the same either. and i’m well. what about you?” “i’m good too, and i disagree. i think i’m still the same,” he said, giving an easygoing smile. “looks like i’m going to have to save my pens then,” you teased. “and i should hide my soda cans,” he laughed.

for a second, you thought that maybe you and seungcheol could finally be friends.

you were wrong.

literally the day after you arrived, seungcheol decided to make it his life’s mission to annoy the shit out of you. whether it was messing with you or disagreeing with your opinions and claiming, “i’m the best man; of course i know joshua better,” he never missed an opportunity to push your buttons. every single time you lost an argument, he’d flash you the same annoying, shit-eating grin from years ago.

you couldn’t believe that for a second there, you’d forgotten how annoying he was—and worse, that you’d found him hot.

the worst of the fights happened on the day of the rehearsal dinner.

“you can’t wear that,” seungcheol said the second you walked out in your little black dress. you had already approved your outfit with joshua, so you weren’t sure what exactly his problem was. “why not?” “because it’s an outdoor dinner. and it’s cold as fuck today. unless you want to freeze your pretty little ass off, i suggest you go and change.” “thanks for your ‘utmost concern,’” you said with exaggerated sarcasm, “but i already asked my brother, and he’s fine with it.” “well, don’t come to me when you’re cold,” he shot back as you pushed past him.

your regret was almost instant. it was annoyingly cold, and your dress didn’t do much to keep you warm. but you knew if you went back now, you’d have to admit he was right—and that was the last thing you wanted. so, you decided to tough it out, hoping the table covers would help you feel better.

it seemed the heavens were out to get you because you didn’t warm up at all. to make things worse, you were seated right next to seungcheol, who tried hard (and failed) to suppress his smirk every time you shivered. halfway through the dinner, he must’ve taken pity on you because he discreetly placed his jacket on your lap, helping you warm up a bit.

“this is why you should listen to me,” he said on your way back to your room after the dinner. “as if i’d ever listen to you,” you rolled your eyes. “what if i make you?” he said, stepping closer until your back was against your door. “you know, i see the way you’ve been looking at me since you got back.” seungcheol leaned in and whispered, “so what if i make you listen and be a good girl for me, hm?” “i’d like to see you try,” you whispered back, leaning closer before quickly unlocking your door and slipping inside.

the day of the wedding was one of the most beautiful events of your life. joshua looked handsome, his now-wife was stunning, their vows were incredible, and the whole event was just mesmerizing.

however, you would’ve enjoyed it more if it wasn’t for a certain encounter with a certain man from two days ago. the same man who was next to joshua the whole time as his best man.

seungcheol’s words played over and over in your head like a broken record, and even though you spent all of yesterday keeping your distance from him, you couldn’t help but admire how his black suit fit him in all the right places. and how desperately, you wanted to see him without it. it truly annoyed you to no end how much you wanted your brother’s best friend at his own wedding.

way to go, y/n.

during the reception, you found seungcheol seated alone, smiling at the newly married couple and the chaos of their friends on the dance floor. a very stupid idea popped into your head as you made your way over to him and took a seat next to him.

he looked over, tilting his head with a playful smirk. “may i help you?” “oh, nothing. i figured if you already know about my staring, why not do it up close? better view, you know?” you smirked, giving him a once-over while sipping your drink. “well, enjoy it all you want.”

the next series of events were a blur.

one second, you were bantering with seungcheol at his table, and the next, he had you pressed against the elevator wall. his lips crashed into yours in probably the messiest and most desperate kiss of your life. his hands roamed everywhere, from caressing your sides to tangling in your hair. when the elevator stopped on your floor, he dragged you toward your room, pressing kisses to the back of your neck as you fumbled with the keycard.

once inside, seungcheol pushed you against the same door he had cornered you against two nights ago and kissed you like it was the end of the world. the slits of your long blue dress gave him enough access to pull your leg up and wrap it around his waist, pressing himself harder against your core. “if you want to stop, tell me right now,” he mumbled against your jaw, his hips slowly grinding into yours. “god, no,” you moaned, pushing him onto the bed and straddling him.

you kissed him with the same desperation as before, grinding against him in a better position now. seungcheol’s lips moved to your collarbone, leaving kisses and marks below it, while you left your own trail of love bites down his neck once his shirt came off. “god, i knew you were a freak,” seungcheol chuckled as you lay on his sweaty chest, both of your clothes long forgotten on the bedroom floor. “well, can you blame me? look at you,” you giggled back. “hm, i suppose that’s what happens after years of pent-up frustration,” he teased, suggestively grinding into you again.

then he said something that caught you completely off guard.

“go on a date with me,” seungcheol said after a moment of silence. you raised an eyebrow. “and why should i listen to you?”

he smirked knowingly. “Because i know you’re not done with me yet.”

he wasn’t wrong. you smirked back, thinking of all the possible ways to get on his nerves.

but first, you had to think of a way to tell your brother how you ended up in his best friend’s bed.

[drunkinyourbenz]

ALWAYS THERE FOR YOU

☆ SYNOPSIS: your parents' excitment about the election results left you with a pit of dread in your stomach. luckliy for you, you had billie, who helped you through it all.

☆ RELATIONSHIP: billie eilish x fem!reader

☆ WARNINGS: angst, comfort, politics, right wing family, implied homophobic family, long distance relationship (during tour)

☆ REQUESTED? yes, anon

☆ NOTE: hi my loves, i saw this request and just had to write it right away (literally wrote it in half an hour lmao) for anyone needing comfort as well as the anon who requested this, i hope you're doing okay. i'm not from america, but i'm also deeply dissapointed about the election results, and i feel for all of you who are there. i hope i did this request justice, i don't have a family who's like super against my views so i hope this is okay <3 anyone with family celebrating like the readers is in this story, please imagine me giving you the biggest hug rn, i hope you're coping okay. my dms are always open if you want to talk about anything at all, i love you all, please stay safe <33

☆ WORD COUNT: 1.2k words

you and billie had been dating for a while now, and she made you happier than anyone ever had before. she was your other half, and without her you would feel incomplete. you weren’t on tour with her, much to both of your disappointments. but you’d had personal things that took up your time at the start of tour, so the plan was that you’d join her once she came on tour to your city, and you’d join her for the rest of tour. despite not being on tour with her, your mind always drifted back to her, she had a permanent residence in your heart. 

so naturally, on election night, you sat in your room thinking about her. you wanted nothing more than to be held by her in this moment, you’d slipped away from dinner as soon as you could, but you could still hear your family’s excited chatter coming from downstairs. the fact that they were happy about the way it was going, the way they wanted a future that was so drastically different from the one you had in your mind… it stung. your parents genuinely wanted a future that you weren’t sure whether you had a place in, and you didn’t really know what to do with that information.

you were trying to stay off social media, to stay away from the news, because you knew it wouldn’t help you—you couldn’t change a thing. but every few minutes, you’d end up switching back to the tab on your laptop with the live updates, feeling a sense of dread settling in your stomach. you couldn’t quite comprehend how so many more people had voted for him, the man who made you genuinely fear for your future. 

so finally, you texted billie. you needed her comfort, even though it would just be her voice over a call. you needed her. 

can i call you??

billie replied not long after, her text simple. 

bils: ofc baby

her contact calling you came up on your screen before you could even move to call her, and you automatically accepted the face time. her face popped up on your phone after a moment, and as well as the tiredness from tour you’d been seeing so much of lately, she looked just as crestfallen as you. the two of you shared the same opinions on this, and you knew how much billie cared about it. 

just as the call loaded properly, you heard a loud cheer from downstairs, and you couldn’t stop the grimace that appeared on your face. billie’s lips curved down in a soft, sympathetic frown, “oh, baby.” 

a sigh left your lips, the sound somewhat defeated, “i just… i don’t know how they want that. it feels like they want a future that i’m not safe in–” billie cut you off with an understanding sigh, she knew that if she let you keep talking, you’d simply spiral. she knew what you meant, you felt a rift between you and your parents, you felt unsure of what that meant for your relationship with them. billie herself had never experienced it, with her own family being supportive and sharing her views, but she had always been good at comforting you. 

“i’m so sorry, baby. you know that me and my family have always got you, no matter what, yeah? we’ve got your back, we’re always here for you. all of us.” 

your lips curled into a soft pout, her words lessening the sadness you were feeling. “i love your family.”

she smiled softly at you, “and we love you. always.” 

you cracked a small smile at her words, the disappointment behind your eyes still very much evident, but you felt an overwhelming feeling of love for the people in your life. even if your blood-related family didn’t understand, you had your chosen family. that small fact that you had your people, who agreed with you on these things, it helped to soften the blow of your parents wanting the country to go down such a different path than you did. only slightly, but it helped. you felt the pain dull slightly. 

the two of you stayed on the phone for a while, billie distracting you from your parents downstairs by telling you about the tour so far. obviously, she was also upset about everything going on, but she knew you needed this support and that was more important than talking about it. she just wanted you to feel okay. you could feel the emotions hanging around both of you even through the phone, but you appreciated that she wasn’t mentioning them right now. you’d have plenty of time to talk about the election later, once you didn’t feel so despairing about the future. 

after about half an hour of the two of you just talking, you decided to ask her something. 

“bils?” 

“hmm?” she hummed, looking up as if she could sense the importance of what you were about to say even through one word. 

“do you… do you think i could join you on tour a bit earlier than planned? i just don’t know if i can stay in this house for any longer, it’s just–”

“of course.” 

her instant, firm reply cut off your rambling and you sighed in relief, “thank you–”

“don’t thank me, darling. i just want you to feel safe.” she paused, thinking, “you could join us on the minnesota dates, if you want. there’s two days there, so it gives you more time to get here. i can book you a flight–” 

you smiled at her considerate words, the way she was taking everything into account. oh, how you loved her. “that sounds perfect. and don’t book first class this time, jesus. i can put up with an economy flight, i’m used to them. plus,  i get to see you at the end of it.” 

she smiled warmly, “mm, you do. and then i’m wrapping you up in a massive hug and never letting you go, because i love you.” 

you giggled softly at her words, “i think i’m looking forward to seeing maggie more, actually.” 

billie rolled her eyes fondly, her mother just adored you. “i don’t blame you.” 

the two of you talked into the night, and were still on the call when you woke up. you weren’t aware that you’d fallen asleep, and you probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for her soothing voice.

it was now the early hours of the morning, soft sunlight streaming through the curtains you’d forgotten to shut. the house had gone silent by now, your parents finally asleep, and you felt a tiny bit of peace just laying there in the silence. you looked at the screen for a moment, simply admiring her pretty sleeping face, the way her eyelashes fluttered slightly and her chest rose and fell with each breath. this time in a few days, you’d be in her arms again. 

you let out a soft sigh. the country may be falling apart by the seams, but you had billie. you had her, so you’d be okay. 

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

The Family Business

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: You (20+ ish) are starting to feel left out by your brothers, but maybe not for the reason you think.

“Hey, we’ve got a case just a couple of hours away, looks like it could be a djinn.”

You looked up as Sam and Dean entered the library, Dean delivering the news.

“Ok, I’ll go get my stuff.” You started to rise from your chair, but Sam held up his hands.

“Actually, I think we’re good. You should, uh, you should just stay here.”

You were so surprised that by the time you thought of speaking up, your brothers were already past you and headed for the door.

“You sure?” You called out faintly.

“Yup,” Sam assured you before following Dean out the door.

You weren’t quite sure what had just happened. Ever since you’d become old enough to hunt, the boys had never left for a hunt without you.

Your mind started running back through the past week, trying to think of why your brothers wouldn’t want you around. All you could come up with was a moment from the last hunt; you had almost gotten hurt by a werewolf, but Dean had assured you over and over that it was his fault, not yours.

Maybe he had changed his mind.

…

The next two weeks passed much the same, with the boys not only excluding you from hunts, but from just about everything else that they did. They studied lore in the library without filling you in on anything they were hunting, they had a movie night in the Dean cave without inviting you, and they just excluded you in general from anything they did together, which was everything.

Some part of you felt that you should be angry at this, but instead despair clouded your emotions at each new rejection. You’d convinced yourself that it was because of that one mistake a few hunts ago, because what else could it be?

You’d lost your brothers’ trust, and with it their companionship. And you had no idea how to win it back.

You’d spent the last two weeks getting closer and closer to a breakdown. You could feel it—your mood was constantly gloomy, you’d almost completely lost your appetite, and you spent most of your time hidden in your room. Things that used to be so simple—asking Sam if you could join him on a run, joining Dean during shooting practice—now filled you with anxiety. You’d always felt comfortable doing things with your brothers, but the thought that they didn’t want you around made you second guess everything you did.

Unfortunately, the breakdown came at a time you didn’t appreciate.

“Hey, we’re headed out for a hunt.” You looked up from the book you were reading as Sam peaked into your room to update you.

“Do you need any help?” This was your standard question, despite the fact that you knew he’d say no again. You weren’t wrong.

“No, we’re fine. We’ll probably be back in a week, it’s pretty far away.”

Your heart plummeted to your stomach at his words. You’d been feeling lonely enough with the brothers ignoring you, but for them to leave completely for a whole week?

“Are you—“ you stopped yourself completely when your voice cracked. You wanted to ask if he was sure, if he’d let you come along anyway, if there was anything you could do. But if he didn’t trust you or want you, the last thing you wanted to be was a burden. Besides, with the crack in your voice came a stinging behind your eyes, and you really didn’t want to cry in front of Sam.

But still, Sam had heard the start to your question, and he turned to listen.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing.” Your voice came out as a choked mumble, and you cursed yourself, knowing that Sam would hear it. Sure enough—

“Hey, you ok?”

You focused your gaze on the book in your lap to avoid Sam’s penetrating stare as you answered.

“Yeah, fine.” Your voice didn’t come out at all the way you wanted it to, and you could feel your eyes misting over as you struggled to make your breathing sound normal with the lump building in your throat. You’d been keeping your feelings in for far too long, and apparently Sam’s words sparked your short fuse.

The book in front of you suddenly disappeared, snatched up by Sam’s hand as he came to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Ok, come on now, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” You pulled your knees to your chest, still not looking at your big brother.

“Then why won’t you look at me?”

You reluctantly lifted your head to look into Sam’s dark eyes despite knowing that he would see your unshed tears.

“What’s wrong?” Sam’s gaze was soft as flower petals, and his voice was hushed.

He thinks you’re weak.

You tried to push the voice in your head away as you finally faced your brother.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you said again. “Go on your hunt with Dean.”

“Don’t do that,” Sam said. “Don’t just shut me out.”

Something inside you snapped.

“Shut you out?” Your voice rose. “That’s rich, coming from you!”

Sam was taken aback by your sudden change.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about how you keep leaving me behind! I haven’t been on a hunt in weeks, and we never do anything together anymore!” Your anger was slipping back into despair, and you fought to stop it.

“Honey, we didn’t mean to—“ Sam was at a loss for words. “We just—“

“Just go.” You could feel yourself losing the battle as your tears returned. “Go away!” The pillow you threw at him missed by a mile, but he backed off anyway, leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

The second he was gone, your resolve disappeared along with your anger. You tightened your arms around your knees and sobbed, burying your face in your knees as your whole body shook. Between the hunt you screwed up and the way you just acted with Sam, you didn’t think your brothers would ever want to be around you again.

…

Your whole body froze when you heard your door opening. You struggled to hold in your sobs, even though that meant holding your breath, too.

“Hey kid.”

Dean this time, not Sam.

“Shouldn’t you be on a hunt?” You managed to choke out, and you cringed at the sound of your tearful voice.

“Not until I tell you why you weren’t invited,” Dean replied.

Your throat constricted, and you swallowed hard.

“I already know why.”

“Do you?” You heard rather than saw when Dean closed the door behind him and stepped further into the room. “Because I’m starting to think that I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not right.”

Your forehead crinkled in confusion, but you kept your head down.

“What?”

Your bed dipped as Dean sat on the end.

“You think it’s because of that hunt two weeks ago. Well, you’re right about that, sort of.”

You felt your hands start to shake as a sob unintentionally escaped your lips.

“Hey now.” Dean sighed, and you felt his hand on your shoulder. “It’s ok, just breathe.” His other hand came up to your other shoulder, and you felt his fingers flex as he pulled you towards him. You tucked your legs under you, opting instead to bury your face against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed. “I didn’t mean to—“

“Shh, hey now,” Dean soothed, his hands coming up to cradle your head. “You didn’t let me finish, kiddo. I told you that that hunt wasn’t your fault, and I meant it. It was mine. But I almost got you killed out there, and I—“ Dean’s voice caught, and in the brief silence that followed he realized that your sobs had subsided, and you were breathing more evenly in his arms. Dean felt his own eyes start to sting as he thought about the way you almost died on that hunt. “And I realized,” he continued, “That we never bothered to see if you wanted this.”

“What?” You asked quietly.

“Look, I picked this life. Sammy tried to get out of it, but ultimately he picked it too. But you’ve just done what we told you, you followed us, but we never asked if you wanted to. Now, I know that that wasn’t how dad did things, he had to make us be a part of this life for our own protection. But now things are different. If you don’t want this, I’m not gonna make you do it.”

As Dean spoke, you began to feel so relieved that you nearly laughed.

“Why didn’t you tell me, you idiot?” You demanded, and at Dean’s chuckle you actually did laugh.

“Sam didn’t want to dump all this on you. He said we should let you sit out a few hunts first, then ask.”

“Why didn’t you let me help you with lore?” You pressed on, still confused.

“We didn’t want you to think you were benched from hunts, figured it would be best to just not have you do any of it.” Dean chuckled again. “I guess it was a stupid idea.”

“So…you do want me on hunts?” You mumbled.

“Of course we do,” Dean said firmly. “But not if you don’t want to be out there. This life could get you killed, you’ve gotta choose it if you want it.”

“Knock knock.” The two of you turned as Sam stepped into the room. “Hey, how’re we doing in here?”

“I think we’re ok,” Dean said, pulling away from you. “You think?”

“Yeah.” Your lips twitched into a smile. “We’re good.”

“What do you think about…joining us on the hunt?” Sam asked hesitantly. “Only if you want to.”

“I think…” you grinned. “Someone has to watch your butts.”

Sam laughed. “So that’s a yes?”

“I’ll get my stuff.”

You hopped off the bed so you could pack, but Dean climbed off next to you and pulled you into his arms.

“Welcome to the family business, kid.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade

[ultralightpoe]

Chaos - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: terribly written but I'm clearing out my drafts

Warning: mentions of abuse

Word Count: 2340

Part One Here

Enjoy!

“What the hell happened?” Cho snaps, moving to the gurney being pushed in and surveying the amount of blood that was spilling. “Back up! I need room, someone page Stark immediately!”

The lights of the tower flicker under the storm, and Steve watches as Cho’s team wheels the gurney away quickly, his hand shaking heavily. Panic claws at his throat as the scene from earlier unfolds in his mind once more, turning slowly to the redhead beside him. 

“Steve-” She starts before he shakes his head. 

“Nat, this is not a conversation you want to have with me right now.” He sighs, bringing a hand up to pinch his nose before he realizes it’s coated in blood and pulls it back sharply. “I need to shower.”

He storms off, shoulders squared as he thinks about all the reports he is about to fill out. 

- 

“We won’t have much time, in and out as fast as we can. Everyone has their tasks?” Steve asks, making sure everyone nods back to him before making eye contact with you. “Y/n, I know this will be your first mission-”

“We should go before the storm gets any worse.” You interrupt, fixing your headset and moving to the bay of the quinjet, grabbing your bag before being the first to leave the ship and rushing to leave them behind. 

“Slow down Y/n.” You hear Bucky warn in your earpiece, and normally you would turn around to wait for him. But he wasn’t your partner on the mission today, so you didn’t turn and kept the same pace. They could catch up if they wanted. 

Bucky stops in his tracks when he sees you march off, not bothering to turn to him, his heart thundering in his chest. Normally you would slow down for him, normally he would have your back during missions. 

It was a slow realization that you would be alone. 

“Maybe we should-” He starts, feeling like a fool as Sam turns to look. 

“We gotta go, come on man.” He mumbles, watching as Nat takes lead. 

It was going to be a simple mission, in and out, Bucky reminds himself. Taking a deep breath before following the rest. 

- 

“We need a report,” Tony sighs, tracing through the footage of the mission, eyes widening at the fight. “I’ve never….”

“Tony, I’ve never seen it before. And it’s my fault.” Nat sighs, rubbing her hand across her face. “I got involved.”

“How?”

“I got in Bucky’s head a bit. I was just worried-”

“Worried about what?”  

“About Bucky and- I just remember coming out of the red room and being so attached to Clint. I had no family, no story, no morals. I was just pain. I was in pain myself and I inflicted pain onto others.”

“You went through something terrible-”

“THEY WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TERRIBLE! Bucky went through 70 years of it and the experiments they ran on Y/n….. I just wanted them to safe. I didn’t want them to get hurt.” She sighs, picking at her hair. “I love them both and I just wanted them to take a break. Maybe they would see how much they needed each other, and they would finally admit it to each other.”

“You should know by now that Barnes never thinks the way we do.”

“He thinks he is going to ruin everything he touches.”

“I know someone like that.” Clint interrupts from the door, giving Nat a small smirk. “Let’s just take a night to rest, Cho will update us if need be.”

- 

It had turned into a mess too fast, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The rain covered most of your vision as the walls of the compound seemed to be closing in quickly, the others screaming over the intercoms as they had been ambushed. 

You had been tasked to get the files from the lower levels of the compound, and you had planned to get it done quickly. You had not planned, however, to be locked in the basement as it began flooding. 

“GUYS!” You should, tears springing from your eyes as you cling to the door, the water reaching your ankles at the top of the stairs. 

“They blew up the dam-” Sams voice cuts through, half static half radio. “Steve, to your right-”

Gunshots could be heard in the background, Natasha cursing and you truly did not think they could hear you at all anymore. “Shit.” 

Instead of clinging to the door you turn to survey another way out of the room, eyes scanning over every inch of space to find your exit. The intercom in your hear rumbles with static before your name breaks through, Bucky’s voice sounding panicked. The next thing you know the intercoms have a sharp ringing through them that makes you gasp out and tear it from your ear quickly, dropping it in the water and diving in to find a way out. 

- 

Bucky curses as he tears the intercom from his ear, dodging a bullet quickly and diving behind a wall as Nat stays covered by her own, making eye contact for a second as she tears her own comns out.

First the heavy explosion that shook them down, the dam breaking and water beginning to flood, Hydra soldiers attacking them and now their comns were down. Worst of all Bucky could not find you. 

Heart thundering through his ribs as he bites at his tongue to keep from grunting in pain when he realizes he had been shot, but right now that doesn't matter. He had to find you. 

“I have to find Y/n!” He shouts, watching Nat nod before he dashes to the exit that you were supposed to use. Just as he reaches the metal door something loosens in his chest, knowing you would were near and he could find you. He would never let you go he swore to god. 

He pulls the door, desperate to get to you, only to find it sealed shut. So his metal hand takes charge, bending into the metal as he grunts out, doing his best to get it off. A shout of pain fills the air as Sam comes into view, moving to help Bucky tear the door off. 

They make eye contact for a moment, the rain beating down on them before a blast of light blows them to the side, heat covering their bodies as they ram into the wall. 

Bucky’s head slams into brick, he hears Steve shout and Sam scream out in pain before it all goes blank. 

He would never see the chaos erupt. 

- 

Steve is up the second the sun filters through the curtains, happy to finally get to leave his room and check on his friends' health. 

Nat is already waiting for him in the front hall of the med bay, a nervous look on her face as Steve walks past her to speak with Cho.”Any update?”

“He’s breathing.” She sighs. “And he was so lucky Y/n was there.”

- 

You could hear the explosion from under the water, and in a panic you swam back up, only to find that the water had flooded to the roof and your face was pressed to the ceiling to catch your breath. 

Taking a moment to breathe as you hear Sam scream in pain, there was a pain in yoru chest that you couldn’t explain. It felt like a panic attack but worse, you couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t stop crying. 

“PLEASE!” You scream, hands pressing to the ceiling as the water gets worse. 

“Stop crying!” A voice breaks out, and you whip your head to find your old boss, the man that had thrown you into your first cell. The man that had ruined you. 

He was standing in the center of the room, and you had to blink for a moment to realize that there was no water, and you were completely dry.

“W-what?”

“Stand up!” You listen to him immediately, just as you used to, the tears still streaming down your face as you look around the room. It was different now, when you had come in it had looked like a simple office, now it was your cell. 

Or had it always been your cell?

Who was screaming?

“I SAID STAND UP!” Doctor Cornell shouts, stomping forward to drag you up himself, a slap tearing across your face as you cry out. 

“Where’s Bucky?” You gasp, the pain in your cheek fading away quickly. “I want to find Bucky.”

“You think he wants you?” Cornell laughs bitterly. “No one wants you, I’ve made you a fucking freak.”

“I want b-” Before you can finish your sentence you remember Bucky ignoring you, avoiding you….. And then you realize why. Cornell was right, he had made you a freak. You were a monster. 

A sob racks through your chest, and the painful feeling explodes. 

You try to scream out, only for your lungs to fill with water and more panic to take place. 

- 

Steve could not believe his eyes, holding Sam's abdomen tightly in an attempt to stop the blood, watching as vines burst from the basement and travel across every surface faster then he ever thought possible. 

“Is that……” Steve starts, looking to where Nat was trying to get Bucky up.

“Y/n.”

Sam gasps out as the vines wrap around him, tightening around his wound and glowing a deep golden color as some of the blood stops, the vines traveling further and wrapping around the Hydra soldiers tightly to stop them all. 

Now that Sam's wound is being taken care of, Steve dashes to dive in the water, swimming down to try and find where you were. Only you were nowhere to be found, whatsoever. 

By the time he comes back up he is panting for air, watching as Bucky kneels by the water with blood leaking down his face and panicked eyes looking at his friend. “Where is she?”

“She’s not down there.” Steve gasps. 

“STEVE WHERE IS SHE?!” Bucky snaps, the water reaching his waist as Nat moves to snatch him back. 

“The vines are dying, Y/n can’t hold them off forever. We gotta go.” She rushes out, snatching the back of Buckys vest. 

“NOT WITHOUT Y/N-”

“Bucky. Y/n is holding them off but we have to get Sam out of here. Please.”

- 

“Any word on Y/n?” Bruce asks, coming into the surveillance room where Clint is deep diving into the footage. 

“I can’t find her.” He admits, eyes never leaving the screen. “I would love some help.”

“You got it.”

“Lock the door before Barnes comes in and bothers me again.” He sighs, watching Bruce lock it. It was a joke, but he knew that Barnes was hurting. He could understand that. 

- 

Bucky woke up in a startled panic, reaching to your side of the bed quickly, sitting up to find you when he doesn’t feel you. “Y/n?”

His voice is scratchy, a mix of all the screaming from yesterday, and he slowly realizes you aren’t there as the memories resurface.You weren’t here, you were gone. They weren’t able to find you yesterday. 

A knock sounds at the door and Bucky jumps up, excitement filling him as he rushes to answer, hoping to see your face on the other side of the door, only to find Steve on the other side. His heart plummets to his stomach as his friend looks at him softly. 

“You found your way to her apartments then?”

“I think I came here immediately yesterday.” He answers truthfully, letting Steve in before looking around the room, seeing all the dead plants. “How did her plants die in a day?”

“Buck…..” Steve starts, and Bucky tenses, fists clenched as he turns to his friend. “It’s been…. It’s been a week.”

“What?” Bucky laughs, flinching as Steve turns on the light. 

“It’s been a week. You came here the night we brought you back and you passed out, I think because of the head injury-”

“If it’s been a week then where is my doll?”

“We…. we can’t find her Buck.” Steve sighs, rubbing between his eyes. “I think it’s time you and I talked about some things-”

“Talk about things? I can’t talk I have to go find her Steve-” He moves to pass his friend but Steve shoots his hand out to catch him. 

“I think it’s time to admit you love her.”

- 

Freak freak freak freak freak. 

Your mouth was dry and your feet hurt, this was the only thing you could comprehend. 

The lady in the market was staring at you wildly, looking terrified as she reached a hand towards you, concern flashing through her eyes. “Are you okay?” 

She had a heavy accent, one that reminded you of someone, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. What was it…..russian?

“Do you want me to call someone?” She asks, rubbing your shoulders. “What’s your name?”

“I…..I’m….” Who were you? You blinked slowly, trying to remember who you were. All you saw was a flash of someone with a metal arm before you were met with a bald man in a lab coat. “I… don’t…. Who am I?”

- 

Bucky finds himself in the med bay the next morning after a long lecture from Steve, staring at Sam as his friend runs on the treadmill. 

“I… I am so confused. Steve said you were in critical condition?” 

“He was.” Cho answers in amazement, reading the stats that Sam is sending through the tech pad in her hands. “But he is completely healed.”

“How?”

“Y/n, there were traces of her vines left in the wound. It’s completely healed now.”

“Her…. she’s never done that before.” Bucky mumbles, a tight feeling in his chest. “What do you think it means?”

“I think we need to find Y/n, as fast as we can. That was way too much energy used.” Cho answers, a grim expression on her face.

Bucky could do that, he would tear apart the world to find you.

Tag List:::

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[pbaz7]

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter IIII

AN: I was going to wait to post but a lot of people actually like the fic so I want to keep things going :). Please let me know what you think when you’re done reading!

TW: Suggestive language (that’s all I think)

Word count: 4k

The late afternoon sunlight poured in through the window, filling Azzi’s room with a warm, golden glow. Paige and Azzi sat side by side on the floor, textbooks open, quietly working through assignments and occasionally sharing a laugh over something silly in the film they had started watching earlier. For the first time in what felt like ages, they were just two people sharing space in a comfortable, relaxed way—no pressure, no tension.

It was a small but peaceful moment, the calm before the storm.

Then Paige’s phone buzzed, interrupting the quiet. She glanced at the screen, her eyes lingering on the name that flashed across—Jess. Her heart skipped a beat. They hadn’t spoken since Jess left, and though they’d agreed to return with clarity, the silence between them had only grown heavier. Now, the weight of unresolved emotions sat uncomfortably on her chest.

Azzi, ever perceptive, caught the subtle shift in Paige’s demeanor. Her sharp eyes flicked to the phone, then back to Paige. She didn’t say anything immediately, but the slight tilt of her head spoke volumes. She was watching, calculating, waiting.

“Are you going to answer it?” Azzi asked finally, her tone casual, though her curiosity was evident. She leaned back slightly, her hands resting on the floor behind her, exuding a quiet confidence.

Paige hesitated, chewing on her lip. “I guess… yeah. I should. It's been a while.”

Azzi nodded, her gaze lingering. “Take your time,” she said smoothly, her voice low and even. It was an invitation, a reassurance. But her eyes never left Paige, as if gauging every reaction.

Paige swiped to answer the FaceTime, pasting on a polite smile when Jess’s face appeared on the screen. “Hey, Jess.”

“Hey! How’s it going?” Jess’s voice was warm, but there was a hint of something else beneath it—uncertainty. “How’s everything?”

Paige forced a casual tone. “Everything’s good. Same old stuff, you know.”

The conversation stumbled awkwardly forward, Jess filling the gaps with updates about her family. Paige listened, nodding occasionally, but her responses were clipped. Her mind was elsewhere. Azzi’s presence beside her was a constant pull, a reminder of the complicated feelings she hadn’t fully sorted through.

Jess’s voice perked up suddenly. “You’re not in your room? Where are you?”

Paige’s stomach tightened. She glanced at Azzi, who raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying Paige’s discomfort. Paige tried to deflect, her voice light. “Oh, just out and about. Needed a change of scenery.”

Jess wasn’t convinced. “Out? Are you with someone?”

Paige hesitated for a fraction too long, and Jess’s tone shifted, more probing now. “Paige?”

With a quiet sigh, Paige decided there was no point in dancing around it. “I’m at Azzi’s,” she said, her voice steady but guarded.

“Oh.” Jess’s response was immediate, the change in her tone unmistakable. “So you’re with her now, huh? That’s... great.”

Azzi’s smirk deepened, and she stretched lazily, her movements deliberate. Her leg brushed lightly against Paige’s, a casual touch that seemed anything but accidental. Leaning in slightly, she whispered, her breath warm against Paige’s ear, “You know, you’re cute when you’re all serious like this. Too bad I can’t distract you more.”

Paige stiffened, a spark of heat shooting up her spine. She fought to keep her expression neutral, though the corner of her mouth betrayed her with the slightest twitch of a smile.

“Yeah, Jess,” Paige said, her voice carefully neutral. “I’ve been spending time with her. She’s my best friend and teammate.”

Azzi’s eyes flickered with amusement hearing the terms used to describe her. She shifted closer, her presence unmistakable. Her fingers brushed lightly against Paige’s shoulder, a fleeting touch that lingered just long enough to test the waters. Paige didn’t pull away, and Azzi took that as a silent green light.

Jess’s voice crackled through the phone, tinged with frustration. “I don’t know why you’re so defensive about her, Paige. Is there something special about her? Is this what it’s like now? You’re always with her, and I’m... just supposed to accept it?”

Azzi leaned in again, her lips hovering close to Paige’s ear. “She’s fishing for something,” she murmured softly, her tone dripping with playful malice. “But we both know where your head really is.”

Paige swallowed hard, her gaze darting between the phone and Azzi. She wasn’t sure how to navigate this minefield, especially with Azzi so deliberately blurring the lines.

Jess’s voice, now sharper, broke through the tension. “I don’t want to be the clingy girlfriend, Paige, but this… doesn’t feel right. I’m out here trying to fix things, and you’re—”

“Jess,” Paige interrupted, her voice firmer than before. “I’m not trying to make this harder than it has to be. I’m just... trying to figure things out, okay?”

Azzi watched, her eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction. She leaned back against the bed, letting her hand rest lightly on Paige’s lower back, tracing small, deliberate circles. Her touch was steady, grounding, but it carried a weight of suggestion that Paige couldn’t ignore.

Jess’s sigh crackled through the phone. “You don’t even sound like you care. Every time we talk, it’s like you’re somewhere else.”

Paige’s grip on the phone tightened. “That’s not fair. I do care,” she says absentmindedly.

“Do you?” Jess challenged, her voice rising slightly. “Because it feels like I’m the only one trying.”

Azzi’s smirk widened. She leaned forward again, her lips brushing just below Paige’s ear, her voice low and teasing. “You’ve got more important things to focus on right now,” she murmured, her tone dripping with intent. “Don’t let her guilt you.”

Paige closed her eyes briefly, the combination of Azzi’s touch and Jess’s words pulling her in two directions. When she opened them, her resolve had hardened. “Jess, I think we need to stop pretending like this isn’t hard for both of us. I can’t give you answers right now and I told you that before you left.”

Jess went quiet for a moment, and when she finally spoke, her voice was quieter, tinged with frustration and hurt. “Fine. Maybe I’ll call you later, when you’re not... busy.”

The line went dead before Paige could respond.

For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint sound of the movie still playing in the background. Paige lowered her phone, staring at the screen as the weight of the conversation settled over her.

Azzi broke the silence, her voice light but pointed. “She didn’t take that well.”

Paige exhaled slowly, setting the phone down beside her. “No. She didn’t.”

Azzi shifted closer, her arm brushing against Paige’s as she leaned in. “You okay?”

Paige gave a small, rueful smile. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

Azzi studied her for a moment, then reached out, gently tilting Paige’s chin so their eyes met. “Hey, don’t let her get in your head. You’ve got enough going on without carrying all that too.”

Paige chuckled softly, but her smile quickly faded. She glanced down at her hands, her voice quieter now. “Why can’t I just break up with her?” she muttered, almost to herself. “Before she comes back, before this gets worse.”

Azzi’s smirk softened, her expression calculating yet understanding. “I’ve already told you. She’s dealing with enough back home. Doing it over text or a phone call would only make it worse. I want you to do it in the best way possible because honestly she’s not going to handle it well at all. Maybe it’ll soften the blow if it’s in person”

Paige sighed, her head leaning back against the wall. “Yeah, I know. But…” She paused, a small smile tugging at her lips as she looked up at Azzi. “What we’re doing right now isn’t exactly the best option either.”

Azzi’s eyes flickered with amusement, her lips curving into a teasing grin. “True. But here we are,” she said softly, her voice filled with playful certainty. “And we both know we couldn’t stop even if we wanted to.”

Paige chuckled softly, shaking her head. “You’re really not holding back today, are you?”

Azzi’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Why should I? Life’s too short to play it safe.” Her thumb lightly grazed Paige’s jawline, her touch both comforting and electrifying. “Besides, you don’t seem to mind.”

Paige felt her cheeks flush, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned slightly into Azzi’s touch, her smile softening. “You’re impossible, you know that?” The familiar phrase slipped off of Paige’s lips.

Azzi grinned. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer before Paige finally sighed, breaking the spell. “We should get back to the homework. Distractions aren’t going to help me pass this class.”

Azzi leaned back, still smirking. “Fine. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily.”

Paige laughed, shaking her head as she flipped open her textbook. “Of course not.”

As they settled back into their work, the tension from the call began to fade, replaced by the familiar rhythm of their banter and the steady comfort of each other’s presence

…

The soft hum of the movie playing in the background was the only sound in the room as Paige and Azzi sprawled out on the floor, phones in hand, lazily scrolling through social media. The comfort between them was easy, familiar—there was no rush to say anything, no pressure. Just the quiet shared space that had become their routine.

Then, Paige’s phone buzzed with a notification, drawing her attention. She swiped across the screen and paused, her eyes narrowing.

Azzi, still sprawled beside her, glanced over casually. “What’s up?” she asked, her voice light but laced with curiosity.

Paige didn’t answer at first, too distracted by what she was seeing on her screen. A TikTok edit, this one of them—a fan-made video of Paige and Azzi, the tension between the two of them in the video evident. The caption flashed up in bold letters: “They need to get a room.”

Paige’s mouth curled into a half-smile, and she let out a soft, amused laugh.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “What’s so funny?” she asked, scooting a little closer to Paige.

Paige hesitated, but then shrugged with a teasing grin. “Just some ridiculous TikTok edits… People shipping us.”

Azzi’s lips twitched in amusement. “Oh really? What are they saying about us?” Her voice was playfully sly now, a mix of interest and mischief.

Paige laughed, rolling her eyes as she scrolled to another video. “It’s the usual stuff—saying we’re ‘meant to be,’ blah blah.”

Azzi leaned in a little more, her voice dropping low, teasing. “Meant to be, huh?” she repeated, the words lingering in the air as she glanced at Paige. “Guess that’s what they think. You agree with them?”

Paige turned to look at Azzi, her face a little more serious now. The flirtation in the air was palpable, hanging between them like an unspoken promise. She shrugged again, but her smile held a playful edge. “I mean… I’m not exactly opposed to the idea.”

Azzi’s expression flickered with something unreadable, a subtle challenge. “Is that so? Because you know… people are always saying how hard it is to resist a person like me.”

Paige’s heart skipped a beat. She met Azzi’s eyes, the teasing now pulling her in. “I don’t know,” she replied slowly, a bit bolder now. “You make it hard to focus. But I guess that’s what you’re good at, isn’t it?”

Azzi’s lips curled into a smirk. “It’s definitely one of my talents,” she said, leaning in just slightly, her tone low and deliberate. “But I’m curious… what else are you good at?”

The flirtation was unmistakable now, charging the air between them with an intensity that neither of them was willing to acknowledge, but neither could deny. Paige’s mind raced, and before she knew it, her body was moving closer, a magnet pulling her in.

“I could think of a few things,” Paige said, her voice softer now, almost teasingly coy. She let her gaze drop to Azzi’s lips, her breath quickening, but she wasn’t pulling back. Instead, she let her hand brush against Azzi’s stomach, her fingers lightly grazing the other girl’s skin.

Azzi’s eyes darkened, just a little, but her smirk only deepened. “Careful,” she murmured, her voice almost a whisper. “You’re getting dangerously close to what we’ve been avoiding.”

Paige’s pulse quickened. She couldn’t tell if she was testing Azzi or if she was being tested herself. All she knew was the heat building between them. She moved even closer, her breath just a little uneven. Her knee brushed against Azzi’s, and her face hovered above her best friend’s, the closeness unmistakable.

“Maybe I want to cross that line,” Paige said, her voice low, challenging. Her hand rested lightly on Azzi’s chest now, as though to hold her there.

Azzi’s breath hitched slightly, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The tension was thick enough to cut through, both of them teetering on the edge. Azzi’s fingers twitched, as though she was fighting the urge to pull Paige closer, but the moment was interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

Knock. Knock.

Azzi and Paige both froze.

KK’s voice floated through the door, breaking the stillness. “The rest of the team will be heading to Morgan’s soon.” she called, her tone casual, but the timing couldn’t have been worse.

Paige exhaled sharply, blinking as she pulled back. She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to steady her breath. “Yeah, okay we’re just finishing up studying.”

Azzi grinned, clearly more at ease now, but her eyes still sparkled with amusement. She leaned back slightly, her voice low and teasing as she glanced at Paige. “Guess you’ll have to save that ‘line crossing’ for later.”

Paige could only shake her head, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, her heart still racing. “Guess so.”

KK knocked again, louder this time, her voice more insistent. “You guys still alive in there or what?”

Paige and Azzi exchanged one last look before they both burst into quiet laughter, the moment slipping away, but the heat of it still lingering in the air.

“Coming!” Paige called, shaking her head as she sat up fully, her mind still spinning with what just almost happened.

Azzi sat up beside her, her eyes lingering on Paige with an almost knowing look. “Next time,” she said quietly, as if daring Paige to take the plunge.

Paige’s heart still thudded in her chest. She didn’t answer, but her smile said it all.

…

The energy in the suite was chaotic, the noise from the party nearly deafening. Laughter and music filled every corner, the sounds of beer pong balls bouncing off cups and the occasional shout echoing through the space. The team had gathered for Morgan’s birthday, the freshman was too young to drink at Ted’s, so they’d moved the party back to their suite, where no one had to worry about rules.

Paige was caught in the whirlwind, but her focus wasn’t on the games or the people around her. Her eyes kept drifting toward Azzi, who had ditched her oversized sweatshirt for a tight crop top that showed off her toned stomach. Every time Azzi moved, the silver belly piercing she wore glinted in the light, and Paige couldn’t seem to tear her eyes away. The more she looked, the harder it became to ignore the tension building in her chest.

Azzi, for her part, had noticed Paige watching her all night—lingering glances that never seemed to end, a slow burn to the way Paige’s eyes tracked her every movement. She tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the party, but the pull between them felt almost magnetic. Every time Paige whispered something in her ear, Azzi felt a shiver race down her spine.

At first, Paige’s words had been innocent enough—light-hearted and playful, barely more than teasing.

“Think you can sink that shot?” Paige whispered, referring to the bear pong game, leaning in so close her breath ghosted over Azzi’s ear. “Maybe I could teach you a few tricks if you want.”

Azzi suppressed a smile, but the warmth spreading through her chest was undeniable. There was something in the way Paige said it, something that made it feel like more than just a passing comment.

Later, as they all gathered near the kitchen, Paige slid next to Azzi, her body brushing lightly against hers. The music thumped loudly, but Paige’s voice was soft, just above a whisper, as she leaned in, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear. "You look so focused," she murmured, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Maybe I can help you put that energy towards something else."

Azzi’s breath caught, and her heart thudded harder. She bit back a smirk, trying to keep her composure, but the teasing was getting under her skin. Paige was playing with fire, and Azzi wasn’t sure how much longer she could avoid the flames.

But it wasn’t until much later that Paige’s whispers grew bolder. As the night wore on, the drinks began to hit harder, and Paige’s restraint started to slip. Azzi was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen when Paige found her, standing a little too close, her hand brushing against Azzi’s backside.

“You look sexy tonight,” Paige whispered, her voice low and velvety. “Really sexy.” Her lips almost brushed Azzi’s ear as she spoke, sending a ripple of heat through her body. The words felt too intimate, too loaded for the setting they were in.

Azzi's body reacted before her mind could, a jolt of desire rushing through her veins. She leaned back slightly pushing herself against Paige, her pulse quickening, but she couldn’t pull away. Not yet.

Paige, emboldened by the alcohol and the closeness between them, took a step closer, her breath warm against Azzi’s neck. “You know,” she said, her voice dropping even lower, “If I get too close, you’re not going to want me to stop.”

Azzi’s heart raced as the words hit her like a wave. She was dangerously close to losing control, to crossing the line neither of them had dared to cross. But it was hard to stop when every part of her wanted to close that gap between them.

Finally, unable to stay away, Azzi slipped out of the suite and into the hallway, hoping to find some space, some air to clear her head. But Paige was right behind her, not letting her escape so easily.

“Where are you going?” Paige’s voice was low and insistent, as if she already knew the answer. The quiet intensity in her tone made Azzi’s breath catch.

Azzi glanced over her shoulder, offering a brief smile, but the hunger in Paige’s eyes stopped her cold. “Just need a break,” Azzi said, trying to sound nonchalant, but her pulse was racing. “I’ll be back soon, don't worry.”

Paige wasn’t having it. She followed Azzi down the hall, staying close, her steps firm and purposeful. “I’ll come with you.”

It wasn’t a question.

The tension crackled between them as they reached Paige’s room. The moment the door clicked shut behind them, the atmosphere shifted, thick with the unspoken words that had been building all night. They were so close now, every breath shared, every movement charged with heat.

Paige stood inches from Azzi, her chest rising and falling slightly faster as she slowly took a step closer. The room felt small, too small for the desire curling in her stomach, too small for the way Azzi was looking at her.

She whispered, her lips grazing Azzi’s ear. “I think you’re testing me.”

Azzi’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. “Maybe I am” she murmured, her voice thick with the same longing. But she could feel herself slipping, the alcohol making it harder to think straight, harder to stop herself from giving in. “Paige… we shouldn’t” she says although it’s hard to tell which one of them she’s trying to convince.

But Paige’s eyes were dark, the distance between them closing with every word, every breath. Her hand reached up, brushing against Azzi’s jaw, fingertips grazing the smooth skin. “What if we just stopped pretending we don’t want this?” she whispered, her lips so close Azzi could feel the heat radiating off them.

Without thinking, Paige’s other hand slid up to Azzi’s neck, lightly gripping the soft skin just below her jaw. The pressure was gentle, but it was enough to send a spark of desire coursing through Azzi’s body. Her pulse quickened, and she felt a flush of heat spread across her chest, her breath hitching as her body responded instinctively.

Azzi gasped, her eyes fluttering closed as the sensation overwhelmed her. Her fingers curled into the front of Paige's shirt, yanking her closer, pulling their bodies flush against each other. The warmth of Paige’s body against hers sent waves of electricity through her, and her breath became shallow, shaky with need.

"Paige," Azzi whispered, her voice thick with desire, her lips dangerously close to the blonde’s. The scent of her skin, intoxicating and warm, drove Azzi wild. She slid her hands down to Paige’s back, pulling her even closer. “God, I want you. I need you.”

Paige’s chest rose and fell with quick, shallow breaths, her hand tightening slightly around Azzi’s neck. The closeness, the urgency between them, made her skin burn, craving more.

With a surge of raw desire, Azzi wrapped her arms around Paige’s waist, guiding her backward toward the couch. The movement was swift, uncoordinated, their lips still grazing each other as they stumbled in the direction of the cushions. In one swift motion, they tumbled onto the couch, Azzi landing on top, their bodies a tangled mess of heat and hunger. Paige’s breath hitched, her body pressed against Azzi’s as they both struggled to steady themselves, the air between them electric, charged with longing.

However, as she suddenly realized just how far the two were going, Azzi slowly eased herself back, pushing gently on Paige’s chest. “No,” she said, her voice trembling. “We’re not doing this like this. Not now.”

Paige froze, her breath coming fast, eyes searching Azzi’s face for any sign of what she was thinking. Frustration bubbled inside her, wanting so badly to give in, but she understood. "Right," she muttered, her voice strained, as she leaned back, still close enough that their bodies almost touched.

Azzi’s hands slid away from Paige, reluctantly breaking the contact, leaving a lingering emptiness between them. "I want us to happen," she said quietly, her words heavy with sincerity. "But not like this. Not when we’re... like this. Not when you’re still not fully mine."

Paige swallowed hard, the desire still burning in her veins, but she nodded, trying to steady herself. "Yeah. You’re right. We... we’ll do it the right way."

Azzi took a deep breath, stepping back toward the door, but before she could go any further, Paige reached out and grabbed her wrist, her grip firm but gentle. Azzi turned back to her, and Paige’s eyes were filled with something deeper—admiration, trust, longing. She stepped closer, her voice barely a whisper but full of conviction. "I do belong to you," she said, her gaze unwavering. "Only you."

Azzi’s breath caught in her throat at the words, the sincerity of them settling over her like a warm embrace. Without thinking, she cupped Paige’s cheek with one hand, leaning in just enough to place a soft, tender kiss on her cheek—a promise, a silent understanding.

Pulling away, Azzi smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Paige’s face. "Come on," she said, her voice steady now. "Let’s get back out there."

Paige stood there for a moment, her heart racing, feeling the weight of the moment, before finally following Azzi out of her room. As they stepped into the hallway, their eyes locked for a fleeting second, a shared understanding passing between them. Just like always they both knew that things were far from over, but for now, they had to hold back.

[daisyblog]

Big Brother, Little Sister

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN, Harry and Grace find out Baby Burton is going to be a girl.

Based on this request.

“I think boy”. Harry spoke as he continue to prepare his and YN’s breakfast. Moving around the kitchen like routine.

“You’re wrong, they’re having a girl!”. YN politely argued back as Grace was asleep next to her in her bouncer.

“Boy!”.

“Girl!”.

“Boy!”

“Girl!”.

The pair went back and forth for a while, determined that they were correct. A smirk appeared on YN’s face, one that made Harry panic inside because that particular smirk meant she was up to something.

“Wanna make a bet?”. YN was confident in her feeling that Lottie was having a baby girl, but the look on Harry’s face suggested that when he didn’t answer straight away that he wasn’t. “Not so confident now are ya bubs?”.

Knowing he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he said not to the bet, he gave in. “Fine…let’s make a bet, Mrs Sassy!”.

YN’s smirk only got bigger as she looked at her husband with mischief. “Okay…if I’m right and they’re having a girl”. YN thought carefully at what Harry would have to do if he was wrong. “You have to post on instagram!”.

To some the bet would seem easy, they would say that Harry had the better option. But Harry hardly used social media, especially for personal use. His instagram was very professional these days and was only used for work purposes, and before posting anything he would think about it carefully.

Harry stared back at his wife with a ‘really?’ look. When YN nodded to show she was serious about the bet, he knew he had to take the chance. “Fine…but I get to chose what I post!”.

“Sounds like you think I’m right…shall we just end the bet here?”. YN couldn’t help but laugh as she continued to wind her husband up.

“Oh no…I have a bet for you too my love!”. YN wasn’t overly concerned about it, she was for the challenge but the minute Harry mentioned two words, one and direction, she began to pray that she was right. “If they’re having a boy…you have to stop asking when One Direction are getting back together!”.

YN was going to find that difficult to do, she asked multiple times a week. But not wanting to show her weak side now, she gave Harry a big grin. “Bets on Styles!”.

---

YN paced for what felt like hours as she waited for her phone to ping with a message from Lottie. Today was the day they found out if their were having another niece or nephew.

Although Lottie and Lewis wanted to share their gender reveal with both their families at the same time, with everyone living in different areas or having other commitments, they decided they would share the moment with a small video.

The sound of YN’s phone pinging, caught both their attention. She quickly swiped and tapped the screen before clicking play on the video.

The cream cake with ‘baby’ written across it could be seen as a slice was being cut out, and the minute pink icing came into view, YN jumped from her seat.

“IT’S A GIRL!”. She bounced around the room, a large grin on her face, showing off her pearly white teeth. “We’re having a niece…it’s a girl…Grace you’re gonna have a little girl cousin”.

YN jumped into Harry’s arms as he held her tight, sharing the excitement of another little one joining their growing family. Agreeing they needed to FaceTime Lottie immediately to share their excitement, YN had one question for Harry.

“Do you need help using Instagram?”.

harrystyles

liked by annetwist, ynstyles and 5,723.091 others

harrystyles Wife. Daughter. My World. View all 9,621 comments

annetwist What a beautiful wife and daughter you have💕

lottietomlinson ❤️

louist91 Did YN post this?🤔 ⌞louisfan9 😂😂 ⌞ynstyles No you cheeky shit! My husband loves me💁🏼‍♀️ ⌞ynrryfan3 I miss tour days when we would get constant yn and louis updates 😢

niallhoran Oh Styles you big sap

gemmastyles Sister-in-Law. Niece. My Favourites. ⌞harryfan6 Not Gemma taking the piss out of Harry’s caption😂😂😂

harryfan7 Harry’s first of the year and it’s of yn and grace🥹🥹🥹

jonnyharvey93 Cute photo mate! Can’t wait to see you all soon!!

Tag List:

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[anonymousewrites]

Lavender for Royalty; Sage for Wisdom (Book 1) Prologue

Kyoya Ootori x Reader

Prologue: White Rose for New Beginnings

Summary: (Y/N) joins the Host Club.

Mouse Note: Welcome to Lavender for Royalty; Sage for Wisdom! I'm so excited to share my Kyoya Ootori x Reader. I have loved OHSHC for so long, it's one of the first anime I watched, and I decided to finally write for it. I will be following more of the manga and picking and choosing chapters, so the anime stuff is mostly there, but there are some chapters towards the end of this book that aren't from the anime at all (same for the second book when it comes).  Please feel free to comment (please, writers love it <3)) since it motivates me! And please, please, please enjoy! Updates will be Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays

            “So the Hitachiin twins are in,” said Tamaki happily.

            “They didn’t say yes,” reminded Kyoya.

            “Yeah, but they can tell they’ll have fun, and that’s what they want,” said Tamaki, shrugging. “They’re joining the host club.”

            “With them, then, it makes six,” said Kyoya, checking his notes. “That seems to be enough.”

            “No, there’s still something missing,” said Tamaki, considering. “We’ve got the Prince Charming Type, the Cool Type, the Cute Type, the Strong and Silent Type, and the Little Devil Types, but we need something else to balance it all out…”

            Kyoya sighed. He knew Tamaki wouldn’t let up until he had what he wanted, and if he thought something was missing, something was. “Who are you considering?”

            “I’ve heard girls talking a lot of the scholarship student in our year,” said Tamaki.

            Kyoya flipped through his black notebook. “(Y/N) (L/N). Excellent grades, comes from a modest family, here on scholarship…Nothing special.”

            “But that’s just it!” said Tamaki excitedly. “They’re not out there, you know? I hear all the girls talking about them because they seem so down-to-earth. That and they can’t figure out (Y/N)’s gender, even though they wear the male uniform, so the mystery is exciting since they’re attractive, but the main reason is that people think they’re genuinely nice. They don’t put on airs. I think we need someone like that.”

            “Outreach for multiple genders?” said Kyoya.

            “Not that, though girls and boys seem to like them.” Tamaki paused before continuing. “But I think the girls like (Y/N) because they seem so normal, comfortable—” He snapped his fingers “—the Amiable Type! Everyone likes them naturally.”

��           “You want someone down-to-earth? I hardly believe it,” said Kyoya.

            “Kyoya,” whined Tamaki.

            Kyoya smirked in amusement.

l

            “You’re (Y/N) (L/N), right?”

            (Y/N) looked up from their calculus book to find two boys standing over their table. They recognized the pair instantly—everyone at Ouran Academy knew them. The blonde with the giant grin was Tamaki Suoh, and the raven-haired boy with glasses was Kyoya Ootori.

            “I am,” they said, smiling. Were they confused about why they—the scholarship student—were being approach? Yes. But Tamaki had never been rude to anyone, that (Y/N) knew of, so they weren’t going to be rude.

            “Fantastic!” said Tamaki. “Kyoya and I had a question for you.”

            “What is it?” asked (Y/N).

            “We want you to join the club we’re making!” said Tamaki. “The Ouran High School Host Club.”

            “…A Host Club?” repeated (Y/N), tilting their head. They looked at Kyoya questioningly. In classes, he had always seemed rather serious, so hearing that he was involved with that was…unexpected.

            “Yes,” said Kyoya, pushing up his glasses. “Merely a place for pleasant entertainment that has potential.”

            “You just have to be a real prince to the lovely ladies who come and join us,” said Tamaki.

            “And you want me?” said (Y/N).

            “Yes! People naturally like you, so you’d be perfect!” said Tamaki. “You just have to be yourself.”

            (Y/N) paused and considered. As strange as the idea was, Tamaki seemed to have good intentions. And (Y/N) did need to get involved with extracurriculars at Ouran.

            “Alright,” said (Y/N), smiling. “When are we starting?”

            Tamaki lit up. “You’re saying yes?”

            “At best, I am involved in a club and meet more people. At worst, your club fails, and I go back to how my life was,” said (Y/N), shrugging. “It seems fair to try.”

            Tamaki deflated. “So practical…”

            “You said you wanted someone down-to-earth,” remarked Kyoya. “You’re getting it.”

            (Y/N) chuckled, and Tamaki pouted.

            And that’s how (Y/N) joined the Host Club.

Taglist:

@roo024

@jmclouds

@yappydoo

@ramblingsoftheill

@girgal73

@rockerica

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@ritzes28

@grippledee-galaxy

@rory-cakes

[piratefishmama]

Fake it 'till you make it | Prompt

When Steve Harrington came out to his parents, he expected a few things to happen. Jumping back a little, he hadn’t even meant to come out. His parents meant well, they did. He couldn’t deny that they meant well.

They knew he was lonely when they were gone, they knew he was the type of person who kind of… needed someone around. He wasn’t a lone wolf, he wasn’t someone who could just go it alone, while they were away for months, and while Robin was lovely, Robin was also a lesbian.

So Robin was out of the question.

So it fell to the women they knew. Through their connections. And unfortunately those women tended to be, for lack of a better phrase, ‘Daddies money is how I intend to live for the rest of my life���, and completely comfortable in switching out who Daddy was.

Steve… didn’t have a daddy kink, thanks.

Okay maybe he did a little but not in the call him daddy kind of way. More the other way around.

After the fifth attempt to throw some business partners daughter at him, a woman who’d actually kind of impressively deep throated a hot dog at the office barbeque while looking directly at him before he’d even gotten her name. Impressive, kind of terrifying.

An image of his life consisting of an unhappy marriage where his wife used sex as some kind of transaction rather than the big family full of love that he wanted flashed before his eyes.

He'd had enough. So when the sixth one came up, Vivian, he hadn’t even been able to wait for them to explain who she was, which business associate she was related too, it just. Came out.

Or rather he came out. Spectacularly.

“I’M GAY!” Okay less spectacular initially, more manic desperation. He expected a few things to happen after he realised what he’d blurted out.

He expected anger, he expected disappointment, he half expected disownment, not fully expected, his mother would probably be on his side. He expected violence, judgement, demands of him to tell them it wasn’t true, or demands that he hide it, keep pretending for appearances sake. He’d heard the coming out horror stories.

He did not expect—

“Oh oh! What about Jonathan!! From Tennis club, honey you remember Jonathan right? Peter’s son?” His mother turning to look at his father, who’d turned a little pale. That was it, his father would be the one to blow up, his mother was in his corner that was sort of expected but his fa—

“Lynda he is not dating someone with the same name as me, that—no. No, I don’t think I’d recover if those thin walls at the chalet struck again.” Goddammit. “What about Timothy, Dorothy’s nephew? Didn’t she say she’d caught him with some punk boy on that family holiday to London?”

“Yes but she was trying to get points around the water cooler for being hip and homophobic, did you not hear what she called the poor boy? I’m not associating with Dorothy, good heavens.”

“I hadn’t heard, why have I not heard? Lynda we’re trying to create an inclusive work environment, I can’t have homophobic people working in HR!” And John was up, newspaper down, and off to his study to deal with Dorothy muttering about how he was sure the monthly office newsletter, which included the updated company values, would have weeded the bigots out by now.

“…Did my coming out just get someone fired?” Steve finally broke his shocked silence, his mothers attention turning back to him, her eyes wide, mouth puckered in a little, silent, oh.

“……Maybe.” His shoulders slumped, expression dropping to deadpan, she moved quick to reassure him “Don’t worry about it, Steven, she really wasn’t well liked.” It didn’t make him feel better… okay maybe it did, one less homophobe in the workplace. “Oooh, what about—”

It didn’t stop the matchmaking. The potential suitor pool just got bigger. Especially when he quietly, defeatedly corrected himself, revealing it was bisexual, not just gay, accepting his fate.

So it was no longer Vivian, Jessica, Bethany, Barbara, Carol, etc.

It was Vivian, Thomas, Jessica, Peter, Bethany, Robert blah blah blah

“Okay but you know some people would kill for that kind of support right?” Robin spoke the truth while rewinding the latest batch of returns. And maybe he was whining, maybe he was being overdramatic, his parents were supportive and were trying to make sure he’d be happy while they were gone on their long business trips.

Honestly they could have probably just let him get a dog. It’d have been easier. Less expensive than any of the people they were suggesting.

“I know… it’s just… they could at least try and find out what my type is. Instead it’s like they’re trying to throw a whole Indy gay bar at me in hopes that one person just kinda sticks. And now I’ve got a whole week with them coming up in some remote chalet, what if they bring someone, Robs? What if they bring someone and try an set us up an—”

“Can your parents just… adopt me?” She wasn’t listening “I’d kill to have the dating thing simplified for me, I can’t even talk to girls, you’ve got your mother doing all the work for you. I’d appreciate them, tell them I’d appreciate them.”

The door chimed, neither of them looked up, too engrossed in what they were doing. If a customer needed their help, they’d make it known.

They’d just adjust language used to not out themselves to strangers.

“You tell them! Pretty sure they’d find you someone.” Apparently his parents would be thrilled to help. He wanted to be happy about that, he really did, it was just exhausting having to fend off people who were interested in him but only for the last name, the business connection, the money. He wanted someone who wanted him for him, and none of those ‘potential suitors’ fit that bill. “Robbie I’m serious here, what if— what if they try when I can’t escape. I can’t spend a whole week in the woods with some stranger they’ve thrown at me, I think I might actually perish.”

“Then take a date.” Both young adults turned to look at the culprit behind the door chime.

“Henderson!” Steve’s favourite of the brat pack. Having met him while ferrying the kids home when Jonathan couldn’t pick Will up from Mike’s on a night when Steve had been hanging out with his at the time girlfriend Nancy. The kid was hilarious, a little bit of a know it all, but when you actually know it all, you’ve kind of earned the right to be obnoxious about it. “What did you hear?”

“That someone’s setting you up with people? Which is that a bad thing?” He directed the second question to Robin who shrugged and rolled her eyes.

“Not in my book lil man, not in my book.”

“Okay It’s not the attempt that’s the problem, it’s the quantity of attempts, and the quality of people they’re throwing at me! Quantity and quality are the issues here, people, it’s not that they’re doing it,”

“It’s that they’re doing it badly.” Dustin finished, Steve pointing at him with clicked finger guns.

“Exactly… and I don’t want my parents at my future wedding claiming they were responsible for getting us together cause that’d be weird! And pathetic. I want a fun first date story, a meet cute, or a ridiculous ‘yeah we were trapped in an elevator for like, three hours and bonded’ kind of story, I want an ‘I met them on a train’ or ‘they hit on me at the bar, and it just worked’ not an ‘my parents set us up in a remote cabin in the woods’, do you get me?”

“I can see your dilemma, but remote cabins in the woods can be really roman—"

“Nobody wants to hear about you and Suzie again! We get it, she’s your soulmate and future nerd wife you lucky little shithead.” Long distance and tricky as it may be, they were kind of perfect for each other. “Now what were you saying about taking a date?”

“Exactly that, take a date with you. Tell them you’re bringing someone and just… bring someone.” Dustin let his eyes flick to robin purposefully, quirking his head a little to subtly nod at her “you could take Robin” as if to say now’s your chance, dickhead, take it.

“Somehow I doubt Robin would be able to convince them that we were dating.”

“Cause we’re not.”

“And will not be.”

“At all.”

“Eh—"

“—ver”

“You guys make no sense.”

“We make perfect sense, my strange little child friend. You just don’t have all the information to make it make sense.” Robin wiggled her fingers at him as if it was some kind of mystery, it was to Dustin but that wasn’t important. “He does have a point though, you could take a date, there’s plenty of people in Hawkins who’d kill for a rich person get away, just gotta let them know that it’s a pretend date situation. Or… actually find a date. If you can.”

The "you suck" board flashed into his mind momentarily. He couldn’t. Not within the time frame he had. He was so far off his game his parents were matchmaking for him.

Dustin’s voice broke through his thoughts once more, offering salvation. “I know someone you could hire for that…” hallelujah, Dustin Henderson everybody.

Part 2

[tojiwrd]

6: fate is fickle ; gojo satoru

pairing gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary when satoru breaks off your engagement, you understand and accept it. but when he marries someone else, you don't understand because he didn't want to be tied down.

content warnings mentions toxic family, mentions of forced marriage, emotional infidelity, lots of crying, drama drama drama, confrontation, lots of reminiscing. also not proofread so im sorry for any mistakes !!

word count 4k

a/n sorry for late update lomls my gojo fate is fickle ver. came back into my life after three years of silence so this is chapter is coming straight from my bones guysssss . also i am so so so grateful for the support on this fic, genuinely makes me so happy i love u guys sm thank you SO much !! <3 also credit to the person of the art!! i can't find their name so if anyone knows then lmk <3

send thoughts ↞ prev next ↠ to be added to taglist

Gojo Satoru didn’t get on one knee and ask to marry you. He did it when the two of you were in the apartment he bought just a few months prior, laying on the bed as the small opening of the curtains let a thin stream of silver streams in. It wasn’t that he wasn’t prepared because when he slipped the question while the two of you were facing one another, a hint of sleep heavy on the eyes on his moon-kissed face, he backed it up with the ring he’d carefully tucked away in his sweatpants. You swore your cheeks were hinting a fresh glow for the next week.

Maybe it was dumb to think you and Satoru, only twenty-five, would’ve worked out when he proposed on a random Sunday in bed. It did seem dumb, though, while you sat across Hana who was relaying her own proposal story. You’d tuned it out, not wanting to hear her drone on about how it was the most perfect, breathtaking moment when he got on one knee at a rooftop restaurant. You didn’t want to be there, partially because you truly felt as though Hana was painting Satoru out into someone he wasn’t, and partially because you were human and humans tend to get jealous sometimes. 

It was meant to be a simple brunch with ten people, friends of friends of friends. You had Reina right next to you, Reina, whose eyes were continuously twitching as Hana would relearn a new moment from that picture-perfect night and feel the need to share it with everyone on the table. You could also see some of your own friends who were aware of yours and Satoru’s relationship look at her, then you, with furrowed brows. Hers mostly out of confusion, and at you to ask why the fuck are you quiet?

“Ugh!” One of the girls, Jia, exclaimed as Hana finally seemed to get to the end of her engagement story. “I wish I had someone like Gojo Satoru; all these men are so unromantic and act like genuine children.”

Truthfully, if Satoru wasn’t your ex-fiancee, you would be on the same boat as the girls who were unaware of your past relationship. Hana’s story, from the pieces you forced yourself to hear, was dreamlike. A small part of you wanted to tell her that her romantic and unchildlike husband had proposed to her, too, right after he’d done some other things that would end that conversation immediately. But you didn’t because it wasn’t Hana’s fault, even though your mind kept putting some blame on her, that Satoru broke it off with you.

“I hope all of you find somebody like Satoru. He truly is the best,” Hana replied dreamily. 

You clenched your fists. Reina slammed hers on the table. 

“You’re so delusional, Hana, it’s concerning.” You wanted to raise your arms and pull Reina down and ask her to shut up. To not cause a scene. But Hana looked at Reina, a confused, concerningly kind expression covering her features and you realized there lived a monster in you that wanted to see Gojo Hana crumble. “Don’t look at me all coy, high, and mighty. You don’t know shit about your husband. Why don’t you skip over these semantics and really tell them the only reason the two of you got married was because your parents forced you to?”

You delighted in the flash of anger that slid across Hana’s face as she pursed her lips, trying to find the right words. You leaned back and stared, an uncharacteristically numb look covering your features. This, a part of you realized, might be detracking you from your healing process but it was fun.

Hana looked around the table and noticed how all eyes were fixed on her figure. If there was one thing you’d learned from girls' brunches, it was that everybody loved when it blew over and left one or many people scathed. She sputtered over her words, the tangle coming out completely incomprehensible and you almost felt bad. Almost felt bad because it wasn’t expected of her to admit to a whole group of socialites that the marriage to the Gojo heir wasn’t out of love, but out of an arrangement that went in their favor. If you were in her place, you, too, would’ve waxed poetic about your marriage because if the truth would bring the palpable exciting energy down, you would feel bad.

“Perhaps it was suggested by our parents,” she started, glaring at Reina with faux sweetness. “But it was only because our parents saw how in love we seemed with each other.”

You tried to hold yourself back but it was just so simple for you to scoff at her words. When Reina looked at you, a sheen of anger coating her eyes, you pushed yourself to talk. “It’s not love if he cheated on someone with you.”

You had thought about this moment before; you’d wondered if, were you to ever meet Hana again, you would drop the ticking time bomb in her presence that might either blow up her entire marriage or just cause a small blip in the working systems of it. But saying it now, after hearing her say all Satoru had said about you was that your fathers worked together, felt completely underwhelming. Though the shoe was dropped and it was clear everybody managed to get a small tatters of it to whisper about with other people, it felt wrong. Wrong because the way Hana looked at you, eyes brimmed with tears and brows coming together in sadness, you had most likely broken a piece of her.

She gulped then cleared her throat. “Can—Can we talk outside? Alone?” she asked and, without sparing a glance at anybody on the table except for you and Reina, she walked to the sliding doors of the restaurant and into the glaring sun above. 

Reina placed her hand on your forearm and said, “Come on, let’s go.” It was surprising to see a miniscule hint of guilt on her features, and you realized you had to have the conversation. 

Hana had most likely heard the clicking of yours and Reina’s heels because she didn’t turn back to face the two of you. “I know you and Satoru had something going on.”

You froze, stunned and silent. 

“I had heard from my mother that you both were in a relationship. He never mentioned it to me, though, and I didn’t mention it, either.” She turned around, eyes wide as she looked down and shuffled her feet in anxiousness. “I don’t know how it ended or when it ended, but I thought when he—he finally acknowledged there was something between us, the two of you were over. I didn’t want to know. We did get married because our fathers told us to, but I wasn’t lying when I said he was sweet and caring.” Her stare burned you like a billion matches. There was truth in her words, you knew—

“You homewrecking bitch!” Reina’s voice cut off your train of thought as she walked towards Hana, an accusatory finger pointed in her direction. Once again, you didn’t stop her even though you probably should’ve. “If you knew he was in a relationship, how could you even think of flirting with him? They were engaged. God! I swear, both you and Gojo are two peas in the same pod. You deserve each other.” Her words were also ringing through your head and there was confusion bubbling up within the same pot as growing anger. 

“Why’d you pretend not to know when we saw you at the club?” you asked, finding your voice again, in a calm tone that surprised you, too. 

Hana shook her head. Her face had curled up into fury, and you wondered if her nice, docile, angel-sent-from-above personality was a card she held up her sleeve the entire time. “I didn’t care. I didn’t want to know because Satoru was mine—is mine. You weren’t a part of his life anymore, so I didn’t want to add any worries that were misplaced.”

You wondered if you should tell her that Satoru had tried reaching out to you at Suguru’s gallery. 

“If he had told me he was with you, I wouldn’t have tried anything with him.”

You were sure you had moved past everything. 

After more than a year of avoiding any fire from your past with Satoru, the past two weeks had been filled to the brim with situations revolving around him. It was easy to ignore what you had with Satoru when he seemed like a distant memory and then a mere ghost in your thoughts. But when he’s insistent on giving you answers you never asked for, answers you didn’t want to know, and his wife had made an appearance that caused your brain to run without stopping, it was difficult to treat him the way you had. 

No matter how much you wanted to ignore everything and reset your brain back to its default settings, you couldn’t when the world was caving in on you and reality seeped through its cracks to light a bright, pertinent light in front of your eyes. You hated Gojo Satoru with every inch of your bones, but you were never truly able to forget just Satoru himself.

Your mind had an interesting way to deal with the pile of information dropped onto your shoulders. You should’ve been reliving how Satoru made your blood boil when he got engaged with Hana, how he carelessly broke your heart because he began falling for somebody else, somebody brand new while he was taking space on your bed every night. You should’ve been, but you weren’t. 

‘A relationship broken is always a relationship that could’ve been,’ is what you’d read once graffitied onto a brick wall you were leaning against with Satoru once in the middle of the bustling city streets. You’d pointed it out, he’d agreed. He’d agreed. You wish he hadn’t because there was a fragment of you that wished he remembered those words now. The devilish part of you wished that’s what he remembered, recounted abruptly while he was sleeping next to his wife. 

You wished he’d think of the could’ve been’s instead of the measly fears he told you about at the gallery. 

You also wish you had those fears, too. You loved Satoru to a point that he was in everything you did; your clothes smelt like his detergent because you would always take your laundry to his house for the weekends. The lamp next to your bed had his bracelet wrapped around it because he thought it was too loose on his wrist and he’d lose it. You would always accidentally call him because his contact was on your home screen, causing you to press on it when you were scrolling (he always picked up and he always talked to you for hours after, making you forget why you had opened your phone in the first place). The tattoo, a small design of baby’s breaths, on your hip reminded you of how he had held your hand through the pain. 

You knew Satoru’s dreams. You knew Satoru’s biggest fears. So, why did he never tell you the fears he had for the two of you?

As soon as the thought hit your mind, it was followed by you harshly reprimanding yourself by reminding you that it was because he was getting excited over someone else’s calls, someone else’s dreams.

“Y/N, honey.” You heard your mother’s voice call from your ajar bedroom door before she hesitantly stepped in, heel-clad feet grazing over the off-white floor with footsteps following behind her. “Your friend from the gallery here to see you.”

You knew exactly who she was talking about which is why you raised slightly from your bed, a panicked look in your eyes, and only began pleading with her to tell him you weren’t here. Before you could even utter a complete, coherent sentence, Suguru had walked in with his head down and your mother simply walked out of the door, sparing you a sad smile. She didn’t know any of what had happened, but she most likely sensed it wasn’t anything worth toasting to after seeing Suguru’s mood and your reaction. 

“Please, Suguru.” Your voice wobbled, a slight hiccup in your words because this was too much. Even though Suguru was somewhere on the top of your least-favorite people list at the moment, he didn’t deserve to see you get angry at him without having control over your words. “Leave.”

“Listen, listen, Y/N. I just… I heard some stuff and I needed to check on you.” His words were hesitant, as if he’d rehearsed them but had changed the script at the last minute. He walked closer to your bed and you couldn’t find the words to ask him to leave. “Hana told me—”

You snorted, cutting him off. “Hana told you what? That I ended her perfect, dreamy image of her marriage in public? Are you here to—what? Reprimand me? Tell me I was wrong—”

“Fuck, no. Stop, just for one second.”

You did stop because Suguru seemed more tense than you knew what to do with. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”

You stared at him, unblinking. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he quickly addressed, his body finding its way to the edge of your bed. “I want to say I’m sorry, and you don’t have to accept it. I was wrong—I realize that now but… I was scared, Y/N.”

“Scared of what? I wouldn’t have been any worse if you’d just told me what you knew, Suguru. You hid it from me when you saw how I was going insane the month after the breakup.”

“I was scared of this. How you’ve been feeling since Satoru told you the truth himself.” You couldn’t reply to that. “But I want to tell you that even though I hadn’t told you about it, I did let Satoru know really well what he did was wrong. Not that it’s any better, but I never supported what he did. I—I couldn’t stop him from marrying her because… well, because he’s Satoru. I shouldn’t have assumed you were okay, especially not after finding out about Hana after three months. But I thought you were and—I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking straight.

But I heard from Hana earlier today about what had happened at brunch. She said she was scared Satoru would find out what she said and I—I have no idea why she trusted me with that information. I’m not friends with her. I don’t know why she told me.”

You took in a deep breath processing all the information Suguru kept on dropping. “I’m not telling Satoru anything.”

“But she—”

“She nothing. I don’t want to hear it, Suguru. Whatever she did, even if she actively tried to sabotage me and Satoru, it was on him that he let her.” Your phone lit up from beside you and you glanced at the time, internally thanking whoever controlled it for the real excuse to kick him out of your house. “I have plans with Kento. You need to leave now, actually.”

You didn’t miss the way Suguru’s face flashed with a hint of disappointment at your words. 

Kento Nanami wasn’t understanding—not truly—which is why you were surprised that halfway through your date, when you told him you had to talk to Satoru, he understood. He walked you out of the restaurant, a calm, unwavering hand on your back and told you that no matter what happened, he’d be there by your side. 

And though you knew you had people by your side, you really couldn’t remember who and felt a flutter in your chest. 

By the time you reached Satoru’s (and Hana’s) apartment, the urge and confidence you felt when you came up with your plan ebbed away into pieces and left you lying there in a situation you weren’t sure you could face. You raised your hand up to press a finger against the doorbell regardless, trying to force away the thought that you would see the apartment you helped him move into and decorate. You briefly, for a second, wondered if he had changed it. You also wondered if it would hurt to see the small paintings you’d bought as a present for his new apartment not be in the spots of the wall Satoru put you on his shoulders to pin.

When the door opened, you were met with the same eyes that had haunted your dreams and nightmares. His mouth opened, wide enough for a fly to fly into, then he schooled his features into mere curiosity. You realized that you were the one that sought him out this time, you were the one who dropped in unannounced at his house, which meant you should speak. 

“I need to talk to you.” And frankly, at that moment, you didn’t care if Hana was lurking behind him and able to hear you initiate a conversation with her husband. That was what he was: her husband before your ex-fiance.

He breathed out and shook his head as if willing himself to speak, too. “Yes. Yeah. Come in, Y/N.”

And you did. You saw the walls, the paintings, the small hearts on the corner of the dining table you drew with a sharpie, the couch you picked out, and even the necklace you had forgotten that peeked from under his coat on the coat hanger. You didn’t comment on it, though. 

“Do you want water? Tea? Liquor?” 

You almost laughed at the anxiousness in his voice. “I’m good. This won’t take long.”

Satoru’s expression was what you could confidently call crestfallen, and he didn’t try to hide it this time. You forced yourself not to think about it. You merely went down to the couch in his living room that you picked out and placed yourself on the left corner because you always used to sit on the right. It helped you see the TV better. 

“She isn’t home.” You knew who he meant by ‘she.’

“Goj—Satoru, I need you to do something,” you said, unsure of how to start it off. In all fairness, you hadn’t prepared what you were going to say, it was just a messed up, jumbled backbone of stuff that you knew you had to tell him.

His reply was instant. “Anything.”

“I need you to not feel guilty or—I don’t know, keep feeling guilty but just keep it to yourself, okay?” You sounded like you were talking like a preschooler, and it wasn’t much different because Satoru looked at you with the hopeful eyes a kid has before you reject their wishes. But Satoru wasn’t a kid, Satoru was a man who made poor choices and hurt someone by doing something unexcusable, and that made it okay to tell him to stop. 

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t talk to me. If we’re in the same place, don’t talk to me. Don’t ask me not to hate you. Don’t tell me you regret what you did to me.”

It hurt to break your heart by your own words. 

“Y/N, don’t do this,” he trailed off, eyes wide and filled with fear now. “Please.”

“Stop.” Your own eyes brimmed with tears you weren’t going to shed. It was fine dealing with Satoru when he tried to talk to you, but doing it on your own terms gave you an inexplicable feeling of sadness you hadn’t expected. “You’re being selfish.”

“No. How…”

“You take when you want, Satoru. You know more than anybody else that I loved you and lost myself when I couldn’t. You were there that night in the car, holding me when I cried when you left me. You left me!” you exclaimed, pointing your index in his direction that would’ve jabbed him in the face if he wasn’t further away. “You were there even after you left me. You’re there now, making me all confused and angry, when you know you can’t give me anything. You don’t have any intention of being somebody I need in my life, so leave. Make this easier for me and leave. Let me live my life while you live yours.”

He had shifted down the couch, and though he was still not too close, it felt too close. 

“Don’t—fuck, don’t say that, love. Please. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

You flailed your arms in the air, his words not helping your case at all. “You can be sorry a million times over, but what’s done is done. You can’t… Fuck, Satoru. You can’t do this.”

A moment passed. Then another. He placed his head in his hands, facing ahead while you faced his shaking body. 

“I love you,” he said, and you were lost. 

“Don’t do this to your wife, Satoru. You love her. You’re supposed to love her. Don’t do this to someone else.”

“I love you,” he repeated, his eyes now looking into yours with a familiar fire of determination. “You know that, right? You know that I love you?” His words broke out into a sob that ripped directly from his scratchy throat. “Tell me you know that.”

“Then please leave. Don’t show up. Stop showing up, and stop explaining something that can’t be understood.”

And when Satoru placed a hand on your cheek, you didn’t push it away because you saw that previous fire dwindle within a second. He tugged his lower lip between his teeth as he scanned your warm face, your glassy eyes, and he noticed how you were shivering under his touch. You didn’t push it away because Satoru might’ve been selfish, but you were, too. And you would inhale the embers of him before they turned into ash.

“You want this?” he asked, but you could see he knew the answer. You didn’t reply. He continued, “I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. But—But I want you to know I wanted it to be you. When Hana walked down the aisle, I thought of you. I wish you’d come. I would’ve never said ‘I do.’ I swear. I’m sorry I fucked up—I fucked us up. I got carried away and…”

You smiled sadly. “Don’t do that to her. You have a chance at being happy, Satoru. Don’t ever do what you did to me again.”

“Do you?” he asked.

“Do I what?”

“Have that chance at being happy?”

You thought about the question and Kento’s name flashed in your mind. It might have been small compared to the colossal amounts of feelings you felt with Satoru back then, but it was something. Even though you didn’t shake under Kento’s touch or feel your stomach turning upside down everytime he smiled at you, you felt safe and you knew that if you could stay, Kento would stay, too. 

“I do.”

He inhaled a sharp breath, a single tear falling from his eye. “Is it wrong that I still wish it was me?”

You wanted to say no, it isn’t because a part of me wishes it was you, too. You didn’t. 

He continued, “I can’t let you go, Y/N.” 

Another tear, then another, till they continued streaming down his face. You couldn’t stop them. You couldn’t react to them. Not even when he took his hand away from your face to messily wipe them away between sobs and hiccups. 

“You said you didn’t deserve me, and you were right. Remember that.”

And even though a larger part of you didn’t want to leave, you left, afraid that you might end up entangling yourself in his arms to cry with him. To get one taste of his lips for the last time before deciding to fuck it all and make one kiss more. To hold onto him for longer, forever. You left because you weren’t sure you could tell Satoru to leave again. You thought you still loved Satoru just not in the way you used to. But when you saw him pleading for nothing because there was no good outcome for the two of you, you realized you might still love Satoru the way you used to, just less and concealed by the hurt. You would’ve chosen all the bad outcomes and then some more if you stayed a minute longer.

[astronomywriting]

Stubborn Denial 💜 Shinobu Kocho x Fem! Reader

WC: 2.6K

Vocab: [F/N]= First Name || [L/N]= Last Name || [E/C]= Eye Color

Content Warning: None I think?

Premise: Reader can’t admit she likes Shinobu

A/N: School started recently that’s why an update took so long 💔

Requests are open! I only wanna write for Shinobu right now, but I’ll make a post with more details soon

Also Fem or NB reader only!

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Working at the Butterfly Mansion was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. Not only was there solid pay for easy work, but you also had made connections with almost everyone there in the short time that you were occupied at the estate.

After everyone that you had truly grown to love in your life was killed by demons, it felt like you had no one to lean on. That is, until you moved into the mansion, with your own little space and newfound purpose.

You’d cook with Aoi and purposely irritate her while also trying to sneak eat her food. You took enjoyment in conversing with any patients that moved in and out of the estate. Each one had incredible stories to tell, and it really helped keep your boredom at bay sometimes.

When needed, you’d train recovering slayers with Sumi Naho and Kiyo. You enjoyed spending time with them because they were always so positive and cheerful.

On the days you found yourself having off time, you’d spend it with Kanao. Provided she wasn’t out demon slaying. She didn’t talk much, but it didn’t bother you. In fact, you quite enjoyed relaxing in the comfortable silence with her.

Over time, you considered all of them your family. All except one person.

Shinobu Kocho. The head of the house.

By no means did you not like her; it’s just that your relationship with her was different, to say the least. Personally, you thought your relationship was strictly platonic.

Contrary to your thoughts, though, everyone else seemed to think you had a crush on her. At first you just thought it was simple teasing from Aoi (her chance to get back at you for always annoying her), but then the girls joined in, closely followed by reoccurring patients.

How the recovering patients caught on you’ll never know, but the girls all had answers that were just about the same.

“Shinobu-Sama never used to come to rehabilitation training, but when she hears that you’ll be attending to help, she always finds a reason to show up.” Aoi would point out.

“The master seems more relaxed when you’re around, [F/N-Chan].” Kanao would admit while you and her are relaxing.

“Mitsuri-Sama told us that Shinobu-Sama has a soft spot for you; is that true [L/N]-Sama?” Sumi would ask, with Naho and Kiyo close behind.

When Mitsuri got involved, you will also never know. What you did know was that everyone was all aboard the Shinobu and [F/N] train. Everyone except you, that is.

Granted, did you feel your face get hot when you were around her? Yes. But it was the middle of summer; that wasn’t your fault!

Okay fine. Did you want to be close to her all the time? Yeah, but that was only because she was one of your best friends. People can be close to their friends.

And were you currently comparing your hand size with hers? Yeah, so wha-

“Oh my, your hands are a lot bigger than mine, [F/N]-Chan,” Shinobu said, giggling.

The way your name rolled off her tongue instantly made your face flush up. You quickly withdrew your hand.

“Maybe your hands are just abnormally small.” You stammer out.

Shinobu feigned hurt and put a hand over her heart.

“Ouch, way to rub it in,” she says.

And you immediately flail your arms to apologize.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that I-“ You are interrupted by her giggling.

“I’m only joking, [F/N]-Chan. You’re so easy to tease,” she moves her hand over her mouth as she continues to chuckle.

You feel your face grow redder, and as an attempt to mask it, you excuse yourself.

Right before you leave, you catch her gaze. You know that she knows that you know she sees your face. And she knows that you know that she knows she saw it.

Fuck.

_______________________________________________________

The next time you two meet is less than favorable. You’re in the dojo used for training rehabilitating slayers. Shinobu wasn’t with you, as she was tending to injured patients.

You had just finished up with your duties. All of the regular stuff, such as flexibility, reflexes, and full-body training. Now you were helping the girls put away the equipment.

While you did that, Sumi innocently started a conversation.

“Shinobu-Sama isn’t here today; are you two fighting?”

You breathe as she speaks, but somehow manage to choke on air.

“What?” You ask.

“We were just worried!” Naho chirps.

“Yeah! The days you’re here, Shinobu-Sama always visits!” Kiyo adds.

“I must admit I was curious too,” Aoi says with a Kanao following close behind.

“Shinobu-Sama told me she had to attend to some work; that’s probably why,” you say as you turn to continue rolling up the futon. Yet again, you’re trying to hide your red face. Why was everyone so focused on you?!

“Oh?” Aoi turns her head. “She told you only?”

You get up, with the futon picked up over your shoulder.

“Cmon, it’s not like that. I was just the only one she was near,” you sigh.

“Shinobu came to the kitchen to get a snack and ask me where you were. Not once did she mention having to attend to something,” Aoi says.

Before you can respond, Sumi, Naho, and Kiyo giggle.

“Aw!”

“That’s so cute!”

You hear Kanao giggle.

“Ughh, it’s not like that,” you groan.

“Your face is red, [F/N]-Chan,” Aoi points out.

You scowl. This must be your karma for always irritating her. When you glance at her face, you realize she has a smug smile.

Damn her!

“My face is not red!”

“I do not like Shinobu!”

Just as you utter those words, out of the corner of your eye, you notice the dojo door is opened. At the entrance, leaning on the door frame is Shinobu. Her lips shaped into that same trademark smile. Her deep purple eyes bear into your [E/C] ones.

Shit.

Your sudden staring causes everyone else to turn around. Aoi giggles.

“Oh! Hello Shinobu-Sama, we were just-“

“Cleaning! We were just cleaning!” You speak over Aoi. You don’t know much Shinobu heard, but you could at least stop the situation from getting worse.

Shinobu walks over, her footsteps silent.

“Oh?” Her voice is soft. “Well, please don’t stop on my account.”

You tense as she walks past you. Not only does her hand brush up against yours, but she’s still looking at you.

“Are you going to put that down?”

You snap out of your thoughts.

“Huh?”

“Oh dear, are you sure you’re not getting sick?” Shinobu coos. “I asked you if you were going to put that down.” She points to your arm.

You realize you’re still holding the futon, and for a moment you’re embarrassed. But then you’re thanking whatever god may be out there because it’s the perfect excuse to exit the dojo.

“If you’re feeling sick, you can always visit me,” Shinobu says; her voice is like sugar.

“I’m not sick.” You say.

“Oh really? But you’re red face and lack of hearing?” She retorts.

You hear Aoi snicker, and take it as your cue to leave.

You will not be living this one down. Nor will you be able to explain it to the girls when they see you again.

You sigh as you walk to a spare storage room. It wasn’t too far from the dojo, but you kind of wish it was. You’d love to wipe that irritatingly attractive smile off Shinobu’s face. Granted, there was no one around, of course.

As you slide open the door to the storage room, you feel a tap on the back of your shoulder. When you look over your shoulder to see who it is, you nearly topple down.

“Shinobu-Sama?!” You say, your voice full of surprise.

“Hello [F/N]-Chan, you left so suddenly.”

“The futon,” you mumble as you slide open the storage room door.

“Hm?” Shinobu asks, confused.

“The futon, I had to put it away,” you quickly recover.

“Ohh,” Shinobu nods.

You put the futon back in its respective space, being careful as to not damage it. When you exit the room, you bump into Shinobu again. You expected her to be gone by now, as you answered her question. You decided to ignore the giddy feeling in your stomach that appears upon seeing that sight.

In actuality, you blame the butterflies looming in your stomach on the fact you were both standing still awkwardly looking at each other. The butterflies were not because one of the most beautiful butterflies you’ve ever seen in your life was standing right in front of you. You wonder when you began to think of her like that.

“So,” Shinobu starts. “What’s this about not liking me?” She turns her head, curious.

You tense. So she did hear.

“That was nothing!” You put your hands up. “I keep getting teased by the girls, so I was just settling a dispute we have.” You try to explain best you can, but for some reason you grow embarrassed under Shinobu’s gaze.

“Teased? About what?”

You put your hands down and nervously pick at the end of your haori.

“Oh, that. It was nothing really.”

“Are you sure? You seem quite riled up.”

“It was just something stupid.”

“What was it?”

You sigh; no way around it now.

Deciding to simply just rip this annoying bandage off, you speak.

“They’vebeenteasingmeabouthavingacrushonyou,” you quickly stammer out.

“Sorry?”

“Ihaveacrushonyou.”

“Oh dear, you should really swing by the infirmary to get yourself checked out, [F/N]-Chan.”

“Shinobu,” your voice is firm.

“Yes?”

“I like you.”

“Oh? Well, I like you too, [F/N]-Chan.”

“Are you really going to make me spell it out?” You groan.

Shinobu giggles.

“Spell what out?”

Now you really couldn’t tell if she was teasing you or not.

“Shinobu, I like you…romantically,” you mutter out. Half of your arm covers your flushed face.

Shinobu doesn’t speak for a moment. You’re not looking at her, but you can feel her purple eyes analyzing every part of your face.

“[F/N], your face is red again.”

“I know,” you mumble.

Shinobu grabs your arm and pulls it down from your face. She then holds your hand.

You’re still looking away from her.

“Can you face me, [F/N]?”

Reluctantly, you do. But your eyes are scrunched up. You don’t open them until you feel a palm brush over your head.

As you peep an eye open, trying to find out what the sensation is, Shinobu speaks again.

“You feel hot, so how about I take you to the infirmary and I can get you checked out?”

You nod, and as you’re about to walk with her to the infirmary, she stops you.

Shinobu stands on her tiptoes so that she can press a small kiss to your lips. At first you’re caught off guard, but you quickly regain your composure and lean into the kiss. Shinobu pulls back and clasps both her hands together while she cocks her head to the side.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while, but you were always so nervous, so I wanted to give you time,” she says.

“You have?” You say, dumbfounded.

Shinobu nods as she takes your hand. You two walk to the infirmary together.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting,” you mumble. “I kept trying to convince myself I didn’t like you, but I guess I was wrong.”

Shinobu squeezes your hand. Despite her hand being smaller than your own, you feel comforted.

“It’s okay,” she coos. “I’m just glad you were finally able to come to your senses, silly girl,” she gives you one of her smiles. One you know isn’t fake.

“Do I still have to go to the infirmary?” You ask.

“You may have come to your senses, but you’re still red,” she says.

With that, you turn your head away again. It would take some time to get used to her teasing.

[aeantizlkamenwati]

The Hound

So @the-kingshound updated and I dove headfirst into feelings and needed to get some feelings out...So I wrote a thing. As you do. A bit terrified to post outside of anon, but...2.5k words is too much for an ask and the discord...so...here we are.

Some moderate CW though, it contains depression, sexism (I know most people aren't going to want to delve into this sort of stuff because it's escapism, but I find it cathartic and validating when it's at least acknowledged how shitty it is to have a uterus at any point in time), and my Hound is not the nicest person around. (Arthur please don't give up on her, she'll get there)

OH and a part is inspired by a really old poll Kal asked about what color we'd like our dog-hounds to be and I know everyone went with the Christian Black Hound of Hell cause it IS iconic and spooky, but I was going...but a white hound would mean something to the Welsh. It makes a statement. SO I added it in the end to soften the angst.

Enjoy below the cut because I have no chill.

Guinevere stared across her small table at the King. Her husband, she supposed, though in the eyes of the court the title was not official. He seemed unable to meet her bright red eyes—not uncommon in her experience. Even in her own House people struggled to hold her gaze. More than once had she overheard whispers of the unsettling otherworldly heir, the one that must’ve been taken by some spirit or another.

Here was no different, only the terms changed. Annwn, Arawn, Mallt-y-Nos all were whispered as she walked past instead of Da Derga. ‘Bad omen that one’ was still the same though. ‘It’ll be the death of the Pendragons, letting one such as her share a bed with the King,’ in some form or another.

She waited patiently, stoically for the King to sort through whatever went on in his head. She refused to let her gaze leave him. To show any sign of weakness lest he go for her throat so to speak. She watched him as any prisoner might when face to face with their judge and executioner.

Arthur, as a person, was not…terrible. Though the most she saw of him was at their wedding, to be fair. Her hackles bristled at even the memory of the word. Wedding. It was nothing more than a celebration of her family’s downfall. The handfasting, nothing more than a shackle, a collar to show the might of Camelot.

But it was not yet a total victory.

After all, there were still more humiliations the king could bring against House Venegard. One, in particular, she dreaded more than others. She understood her duty, of course, and she would bear the torment like the cliffs do the raging sea…

That did not mean her stomach did not cramp. That bile did not coat her tongue. Her fists clenched in her lap, waiting those dreadful words, the terrible command. Her throat tightened against the rising emotions. Her skin prickled.

‘It won’t come to that,’ Saraah had told her. Radel and Ghaven had tried to comfort her as well. In their own way. Ghaven told her to use their wedding present on Arthur if he tried. It…it did make her laugh despite the crushing despair. Saraah had tried to tell her she’d be safe, that they doubted Arthur would force her to do anything.

She loved her siblings, but…she also knew they didn’t understand, not truly. They were, in the judging eyes of the law, men. They had the rights to their wives—not including Saarah of course.

They did not get the lectures from their mother about how to cut one’s own throat or womanhood should they ever be captured. They did not hear old wives tell horror stories of their first nights. They were not told tricks to get through it, how to fix themselves afterwards because their husband would just leave them once he was through—or fall asleep. They did not hope to die with the birth of their firstborn so they did not have to suffer anymore violations.

After all, what could be more symbolic of the King’s victory than breaking her in their marriage bed as his father did his mother so long ago?

Guinevere bit her tongue to keep her numbness in place. Pain forced her back into the hardened warrior her House had demanded she become. She remembered her mother telling her to never let any man see her scared, see her cry, and she refused to disappoint her.

Arthur cleared his throat. He straightened in his seat. He tried his best to look calm, but there was…some kind of nervous energy. He picked at his fingers out of reflex. His mouth opened and closed a few times. “I wished to ask you something,” he started carefully.

Her stomach twisted sharply. The slight dizziness that plagued her since her betrothal sent sparks over her eyes. She could already understand where this was no doubt going. The court had been rather loud as of late, crying that the marriage was not true. She was only surprised they didn’t demand the King show them the bedsheets afterwards.

She signed without feeling, as always, “Come to take your dues, then?”

Arthur blinked, reminding her of a puppy. “Beg pardon?”

She shrugged, each motion empty of any semblance of emotion. “I’m surprised they’ve let you wait this long. They seem quite eager for you to show me my place.” Her eyes drifted around the room. She noted the places she stashed weapons…assuming Gwyar hadn’t moved them again. They seemed exasperated every time they found a new hiding place…but they also didn’t take the weapons either.

“That’s not what I…” Arthur shook their head, as though trying to shake the thoughts into line. “I’m not—”

“So, a mistress then, that’s to be my humiliation,” Guinevere nodded to herself. “Probably for the best.” Her fingers gently traced the horrific scar across her neck, hidden by her bodice. “Wouldn’t wish to sully the Pendragon line with a wraith.” It was a stark reminder he did not wed a delicate flower, she fought and bled against him. One of his people nearly took her head off.

And the sick part was…she wished they had.

She shook her head against the darkness creeping up her spine. She figured out long ago she would never be a beautiful maiden; she would not be swept off her feet, or whatever Saarah’s fantasies were. She didn’t know why it still stung at this point.

She slowly rose from her seat. The fabric of her dress pulled and tugged uncomfortably against her movements. The neckline rubbed and scratched at the scar. Almost like feeling the rough, chipped edge of the sword again.

Her fingers were cold against her neck. She put them between her skin and the stupid Camelotian garment. Gwyar had convinced her it might be wise to attempt to acclimate to…here. Apparently, some of the court were scandalized by her tattoos. They apparently made her petite-self intimidating, like a barbarian. Or some other drivel.

Maybe they just didn’t want to admit her eyes scared them. Or maybe they were just trying to test to see if the King’s new dog would bite.

She plucked the letters from the table. The seal she was beginning to recognize as Saraah’s glared up at her in accusation. She assumed the others were from various other siblings he had corralled into sending to her. Probably sometime after the fifth letter she didn’t reply to.

She blew out a breath before placing them with the growing pile on her desk. Weight pulled at her bones. The old habit of talking to Saraah begged for her to try. Her chest hurt at the pain she must be causing them.

She drifted away before she could crumble. She had already broken in front of them; she would not do it again. She was the seventh heir of House Venegard. It was time she acted like it. Her feet took her to the window as they often did. Not to stare out over her new domain, but to the sky where birds played with the clouds.

A chair scraped over the floor. Perhaps the King grew tired of her. Or, more likely, he had other arrangements. Spending time with prisoners was hardly worth his time, but still nice of him to stop by, she supposed.

“I wanted to ask how you are,” Arthur’s voice disrupted her quiet contemplation of a flock of birds. She looked to the side as if she could see him behind her. Her back tensed. “We haven’t been able to speak since…” He didn’t say the words as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Your brother asked after you, well his husband asked, but on his behalf, I’m sure.”

Slowly, she turned, smoothing her face against anything that might show the crushing weight on her heart. “I am fine.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the simple answer. He kept quiet as he observed her carefully, as if he could pull answers from her like a sword from a stone. “If there is something I can do to make you more comfortable…”

“You cannot.” Her hands moved like swords, cutting off the line of questioning. “As I told Morien and Gwyar, I will remain living.”

Any more than that, she could not guarantee. She would pretend she was collared and leashed, sit when told, rollover as necessary, endure whatever she had to keep House Venegard alive. She would hide what and who she was, bury it so deep down it would crush her very soul into nothingness.

The two of them engaged in a strange staring contest. Her rubies as lifeless as the gems themselves against his captured-skies bright and beckoning freedom. He tapped a finger against the table. She could see him thinking and sorting through the thoughts, or perhaps he was trying to sift through the dense mist of her façade.

“Would you accompany me this afternoon?” he asked suddenly. “I was going to take Mordred, and I know we would both delight in your company as well.”

*****

Why she went was a mystery even to her. Perhaps it was strategic? To be seen with her husband and…stepchild? Show they did have some sort of relationship to keep the nobles at least somewhat complacent.

Maybe she just had a weakness for the child. Or was curious about the destination. Maybe after weeks drifting alone inside her rooms, only venturing out in the mornings to the dead training grounds or for mandatory appearances, she was going mad.

Arthur was pleased with themselves. They had a soft smile and a spring in their step as they escorted the group to a building. A kennel if the baying of hounds told her anything. Mordred’s hand tugged on their sleeve, eyes wide in either excitement or question. Arthur smiled wider. “Yes, they sent word this morning.”

And with those cryptic words, he pushed open the door and gestured for Mordred to go through. The child hesitated, but whatever was beyond the door drew them forward just the same. Arthur turned his smile to her, holding the door for her.

Guinevere eyed him oddly as she passed—well as best she could without pulling her neck muscles. She ignored the softest brush of warmth coming off him, reminding her how cold she always felt. She looked around the humble abode instead.

It did not take long for her eyes to find Mordred…being swarmed by wriggly, wobbly puppies. The mother hound watched over her litter like a queen, but didn’t appear to mind them entering her space. Her tail wagged as Arthur stepped inside behind Guinevere.

She blinked at the one, two, three…six puppies all bounding around on their tiny legs. Two were gnawing on each other’s legs, while a third played with one’s ear. One was pulling at Mordred’s tunic. Another was getting scooped by the child.

A bit of ice inside her chest cracked. It sizzled and popped at the scene. She turned to look up at Arthur. “Puppies?” she signed in confusion. “You brought me to see puppies?”

Arthur smiled. “Yes? They are cute and these ones the houndmaster said were old enough for a visit now.” He shrugged, though the way his eyes moved over the scene made her think he was up to something.

Of course, she always thought he was up to something, she supposed. Still…unless he was going to order the bitch to tear out her throat for good this time…what harm could puppies do?

“I was once told the Irish have great reverence for their hounds,” he eyed her, “even going so far as to give their great warriors and kings the epithet ‘hound’.”

She blinked at him, the nod almost involuntary. Why did he care to know that? Why bring it up? Her chest felt…twitchy under all the ice and darkness. She gave him a probing stare, trying to find answers. “Cú,” she spelled carefully, “it shows they are worthy of the loyalty hounds give.”

“I find it rather…beautiful to think a king is only worthy of his title if he is worthy of his hound first.” He smiled again, before motioning towards the puppies.

Ignoring the strange…prickle in her chest that his cryptic words seemed to conjure, she approached carefully, keeping an eye on the mother before gathering her dress to sit on the ground. The unoccupied puppy plodded its way towards her. It gave a little whine, perhaps a practice growl, before sniffing her. It was black like its mother with wavy fur.

Still, her chest clenched tightly. She made little tongue clicks at the puppies. Her hands petted the brave one that came up to her first. It wobbled and fell to the side. Her mouth parted in a soft laugh, more audible puffs of air than anything. Tiny teeth gnawed at her fingers as she tickled the soft belly.

When the puppy had its fill of her play, it tottered off to a group that gathered near Arthur. For a moment, their eyes met. Bloody red and heavenly blue. A strange pang struck Guinevere’s chest like a shard of ice had stabbed her heart as it broke away. She pulled her eyes down to his hands.

And found a tiny white ball of fur held safely against his chest.

She blinked. A glance at the rest of the litter found only blacks and a few red or fawn ones. The mother’s ears perked as the tiny bundle squeaked. She panted before sniffing the air as if trying to decide if the squeak was distress.

Arthur followed Guinevere’s eyes and gave the tiny bundle a soft smile. He shuffled over to her side, careful to keep a distance between them. He rubbed at the little puppy’s head. “This little one the houndmaster was worried wouldn’t make it,” he spoke softly, glancing up at her. “She’s the runt—and well,” he gestured to her fur.

Guinevere knew well what he meant. Pure white animals were often abandoned by their mothers, easily spotted by predators, or were otherwise ill. Runts were much the same. Her brows pinched together. She gently stroked the soft fur of the puppy’s ear. Her own white hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned forward.

“But it appears she’s much stronger than we thought—or just stubborn,” Arthur chuckled. “Some might say she’s a bad omen, that she’s already marked for Arawn’s pack and it is best to send her on her way…” He smiled wryly at her, like he knew the insults thrown her way. “Between you and me, I think they are just scared because they have wicked souls and fear she’ll sniff them out.”

He held the puppy out to her as another attempted to climb into his lap. The little thing was warm, soft like all babies were, but oh so still. She didn’t squirm or wriggle, just gave a dissatisfied squeak as Guinevere held her to her chest. The puppy’s tiny breaths pressed against her fingers.

Her heart twisted again. The bubbling need for this thing to survive choked her breath. She rubbed her thumb against its ear again, making clicking noises again. Fight, she told the hound mentally. She tried to impart some of her own will into the small hound. Fight and remind them hounds choose their master. And give them pity if they think they have any power over you.

[realityinsuspense]

one step closer | chapter 4: day off

--summary: "me and him? in one apartment? yeah, right. nothing is going to happen" ~~ two strangers living together. not talking and just going about each other's lives. that was your plan. that's how you've always done things, and you've gone far doing so. so when you have to suddenly move into a new apartment with your new roommate, you expect almost nothing. almost.

--pairing: mingi x fem!reader

--genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, a little angst #mingi is cold and standoffish, #eventual mutal pining

--a/n: oh. my. god. hello to anyone still out there reading and happy 2025! this chapter has been a loooong time coming. had lots of life stuff going on, holidays, writers block, and overall perfectionism held me back from updating any sooner. as i re-read and proofread my work, i get quite tangled up in characterization and how i want the story to flow, which then holds me back because i suddenly want my work to be 100% perfect. but that in itself also holds me back from improving in general. thank you for your patience, and i ask for your grace as i navigate and continue to grow as a writer. thank you, love you, mwah! enjoy!! <3 (and again, there is a taglist, just let me know ^-^)

words: 6.8k

~

chapter 4: day off

12 years ago

The late spring air began to cool as the sun set, a light breeze kissing your skin. Summer was approaching. It was your favorite time of the year, and you usually couldn’t contain your excitement: longer days, vacation trips, and even something as simple as getting ice cream at the convenience store with your friends. You guys would hang out at the park nearby, sitting at the benches—laughing, talking. This summer was supposed to be special—your last summer break together with your junior high class. It was the last year before the start of all your high school days.

As the dusk settled in, you took that seat at the same park bench next to your best friend. Like you guys always did. But this time you were not laughing.

“You’re moving away?” You whispered almost to yourself, your eyes focused on the unwrapped ice cream cone in front of you.

You could feel Jongho’s gaze, but you were suddenly afraid to meet it. For the first time in your life, you were afraid to look at him. You didn’t want the news to be real.

“Yeah,” He said, turning to look at his own ice cream cone as well.

“In the middle of the school year?” You ask. It’s pointless; he’s already explained it, but you still wanted to try. He only nodded in response.

“Well… when are you gonna come back?” You murmur.

Jongho sighed heavily. “I don’t know if I will, or… I don’t know.”

Jongho was moving away with his family back to his father’s hometown. He was going to transfer to another school, and you and him were not going to finish high school together like you guys said you would.

You felt selfish for wanting to say he betrayed you. It’s not his fault. It’s for family, and family is important. You knew that. But it felt like your heart sank to the bottom of the floor after hearing the news. You grew up together. Jongho was your next door neighbor. He was your first best friend. And even your first crush.

“I can’t believe this…” You say softly.

“It’s at the end of the summer though, y/n,” He tries to comfort you. “We can still hang out like usual.”

“But still!” You exclaim, finally turning to him. You feel your eyes well with tears, and poor Jongho has this worried expression on his face. “What am I gonna do when you leave?”

Jongho then pulls you into a hug, and that tugs at your heart strings. You let yourself cry into his shoulder.

“I’ll still be your best friend even when I’m gone, okay?” He whispers, his voice shaky. You wonder if you crying is causing him to feel bad. Or that maybe he wants to cry too. It’s not like you’ll be the only one who will be missing him. He’ll miss you too.

“Promise?” You finally pull away.

“I promise.” Jongho smiles gently, and your heart flutters once more.

present day

“Someone take that pitcher away from him,” You hear Yeosang mutter to your left. “One glass of beer and he’s already gone.”

You chuckle and glance over at the other end of the table where San is talking a bit too loudly with other coworkers. They’re all smiles and laughs.

It was a different Friday night—a company dinner. This meant free food and free drinks. You down the last of the golden liquid in your glass.

You don’t usually drink often, so you decided to take this opportunity to let loose. It’s been a long week. Just like any other week, you suppose. But you felt that you haven’t had a real chance to just relax and have fun ever since you moved. It’s been nonstop stress and work. So why not? And if it has to be at the work dinner, then so be it. You were at least with your friends.

“Hey! Pass the pitcher over here too, don’t be selfish!” You project from your end of the table. San’s blushed out face is all smiles when he walks over with the pitcher of beer.

“Another drink already y/n?” San teases as he pours more into your glass. He turns to Yeosang. “And you?”

Yeosang shakes his head. “I think I’ll stop for now.” You take a small sip at first, then take deep gulps, the bitter taste burning your throat.

“Guys, just imagine this, but even better during my birthday party!” San says happily, then scurries off to the karaoke stage where your other coworkers have gathered and started singing. The music rings loudly in your ears.

Yeosang waves him off. “He keeps bringing that up. At this point I’m not gonna show up.”

You laugh in response. “He really is the life of the party.”

“And what about you?” Yeosang raises an eyebrow at you and glances at the already half drunken glass of beer. “You usually don’t drink this much at the company dinners.”

“Oh you know,” You chuckle sheepishly, slightly embarrassed at Yeosang’s observations. If there was someone that had the potential to become a detective, you’d swear it’d be him. “Just-” ”Let me guess,” He interjects. “Work. Life. Your roommate. Hectic isn’t it?” Bingo.

“You’re right,” You nod and finish the rest of your drink. “Just for tonight.”

“It’s okay, I’m not judging. Just worried, you know?” He says. You smile at his thoughtfulness and concern.

“Yeah,” You say, starting to feel a little buzzed. “I’m sorry I keep bringing him up. I… I feel like it’s all I talk about these days.. I swear I’m still interesting!” He laughs. “Don’t be sorry. I know roommates can be complicated. And maybe…he’s actually good guy or something.” Yeosang shrugs then takes a bite of some meat and rice.

“Maybe,” You say to yourself before you follow suit and take a bite of your food. Yeosang reaches for an unopened soju bottle sitting across from you, opens it, and proceeds to pour some into two shot glasses. “Really?”

Yeosang smiles and nods. You both raise your glasses. “Yup. To good guys! Cheers!”

You and Yeosang carry on your conversation amidst the loud conversation and music playing the background. You also chatted with some of your other coworkers who also joined in on your side of the table. This is kind of fun, actually. You decided you didn’t need to overthink anything in this moment.

After lots more rounds of meat and rice, alongside more beer and soju, you were stuffed. And you were definitely feeling the full effects of the alcohol. You did it. You reached your goal. As the night progressed, more people gave toasts and slurred speeches, and then it was finally time to go home.

It was nearly one in the morning, but the flashing lights on the street indicated that people were still out and about. The places closed late here, you noticed. San was completely wasted—slumped over Yeosang’s shoulders, trying his best to prop him up with his much smaller frame. The smaller one carrying the bigger one—it was a sight that made you giggle. After loudly expressing each other’s concern, Yeosang assured you they were going to be fine going home and that he’s done this a bunch of times. You also assured him that you’d be able to get home after his offer of sharing a cab. This part of the city was generally safe. And you, too, have done this before.

“Are you sure y/n?” Yeosang pressed. “It’s getting late.”

“It’s okay!” You urged. “It’s totally okay, I’m closer than you guys. He needs to get home asap.” You poked San’s shoulder, and Yeosang chuckled.

“Okay fine, but let me know when you get home!” Yeosang is already dragging San into a cab they managed to hail.

“You too!” You called out happily.

But then again, it’s been a long time since you’ve felt like this.

Feeling drunk felt so freeing, vulnerable, and scary at the same time. Your head was pounding, and your eyes were desperate to close. You were tired, but still so full of energy. You were aware of everything still, just…lighter. And now you were standing out alone, drunk in the night’s cold. Of course, taxis were to come and go, so you just stood at the edge of the sidewalk waiting for one, with your arms wrapped around yourself. Everything felt so heavy, and you didn’t want to move. You swear you could feel your heart thumping violently against your chest. Where the hell are those taxis?

“y/n?” You hear a soft voice behind you. Your first instinct of fear runs through you and you turn around quickly. A couple of feet away, stands someone you swear you’ve met before.

Someone…

“y/n,” He breathes. “It is really you.”

You try your best to concentrate, but your drunken mind is betraying you. You want to go home suddenly.

“Hi…” You whisper out. It was him…

Choi Jongho.

Was it really?

Your old friend.

Is this a dream? What is he doing here? What’s happening? Am I this drunk? Is this really him? What’s he doing here?

Your head was spinning with all these questions, and it didn’t help that you were drunk. You didn’t know what to do—what to feel.

He approached you gingerly, and you unconsciously recoiled.

“I.. I..” I want to go home.

“Are you going home? Let’s get you a taxi.” Jongho says.

“What are you doing here?” You blurt out. You wanted to believe that this was just an illusion. How could he possibly be here right now? And to face you so upfront like this? After everything….

“It’s a long story,” He sighs locking eyes with you, and smiles weakly. “Are you okay?” His face turns into an expression of genuine concern.

You can feel them.

Tears.

They’re coming, and you feel that burning sensation building up in your throat whenever you start crying. But you suppress it and swallow hard.

You hear a few cars pass by, and you glance back to the street. Finally. You quickly gesture for it.

The taxi slowly approaches the edge of the sidewalk where you stand, and you mentally thank the driver for coming at such a perfect time. You wanted to go home. You needed to go home. Away from this.

“I have to go.” You whisper, unsure if he’d heard you or not. You swiftly step into the vehicle, give your address to the driver, and catch one last glance at Jongho’s concerned expression before driving away.

This isn’t real. He’s not actually here. I’m drunk.

I’m drunk.

The ride back home was quick, and you used your remaining energy to thank and pay the driver. Getting up into the elevator required some deep breaths, as you were getting dizzier and dizzier—and all the more nauseous. Great.

“Too…drunk…” You mumble to yourself as you stumble into your apartment. You instinctively drop your belongings onto the floor and quickly make your way to the bathroom. You felt horrible. Maybe this was why you haven’t drank in so long…

That nauseousness caught up to you once you finally reached it, where you crouched and hunched over the toilet bowl, letting it all out. I drank way too much.

Now sitting on the floor, you leaned back against the bathtub to catch your breath. In that brief moment of stillness, your mind tugged at you to move. You were suddenly hyper aware of your physicality and environment. You knew you had makeup to remove, teeth to brush, and pajamas to get into. You had to stand up and get into your bed. You needed to clean yourself up. And your brain managed to give you a lovely reminder that you didn’t live alone. Just the thought of Mingi seeing this entire mess made you fearful. But your body betrayed you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

Your head was still pounding so you just shut your eyes and decided to give yourself a few moments. 5 minutes. In 5 minutes, I’ll get up.

The image of seeing Jongho tonight popped into your mind once more. His voice rang in your ears.

Y/n, it is really you.

It’s a long story. Are you okay?

He looked the same, but different. More mature. Stronger. Still just as handsome…

Was that actually real? Maybe. Probably. You didn’t know. And maybe you didn’t want to know.

Suddenly, he felt so far away again.

I’m drunk. I’m drunk. I’m drunk…

—

You gently blink your eyes open to the sunlight streaming in from the windows. Instinctively, you yawn as well. Oh god. For a moment, you simply lay there as you let your thoughts slowly come over you like a wave. What time was it?

Thank goodness you had the day off. Anyhow, you probably would’ve been extremely late. But you were also glad you got the chance to sleep in, as it was quite the night last night. You gingerly sit up on your bed, shedding off the warmth of your duvet.

You feel a slight headache rush to your head again. Maybe I’ll take it easy next time, you think to yourself. It had been awhile since you drank that much after all. You then briefly ponder how San even does it, and wonder how he handles his hangovers. Your thoughts are interrupted by your grumbling stomach.

You notice your phone at the edge of your bed and grab it.

12:08pm **

You ignore all the text notifications from San and Yeosang for now, and decided to order takeout. You were too lazy to make anything in the state you were in—plus fried chicken sounded perfect right now. After putting in your order, you notice that you’re still in your clothes from last night.

Huh.

You could’ve sworn you’d changed and gotten into bed fine, but you could hardly remember. You did remember throwing up like crazy, however. You jumped out of bed and took a look in the mirror—your makeup was still on and your hair looked dangerously disheveled. This calls for a long shower.

After gathering your things and a fresh pair of pajamas, you crack open your bedroom door and peek outside around the apartment. Mingi cannot see me like this, was the first thought you had. The thought of him seeing you like a mess after ordering him around about being clean felt contradictory somehow. But more importantly, you were embarrassed. It’s not like he’d care, probably… But…Where was he anyway? Was he out?

The silence surrounding the apartment told you that the coast was clear, so you quietly rushed into the bathroom and proceeded to take your hot, much-needed, shower.

When you were finally finished, you headed back to your room and freshened up your bedding. You felt so much better already. Five minutes pass when your phone dings, notifying that your order is officially delivered. Excited and absolutely starved, you head for the front door excitedly when you suddenly stop in your tracks to see Mingi in standing by the door. He was holding the door open and grabbing your takeout off the floor. Your stomach grumbled once again.

“That’s mine,” You say. He turns around in response, his face unamused. Guess he was home after all…

He’s wearing his usual loungewear, and his glasses are framed above his head, pushing his hair back.

“No, it’s mine,” Mingi replied bluntly. “You ordered fried chicken?”

“Yes!” You exclaim, approaching him. You attempt to examine the bag.

“Well my name’s on it,” He argues. Mingi tugs the receipt off the bag and holds it up to your face. “See?”

“But the app just told me it was just delivered right now,” You hold up your phone to his face for proof. “Maybe they put both of the orders in there? Can I see?” You lean in to look inside the bag, but Mingi moves the bag away from you. Your sudden closeness made you more aware of your height difference all of a sudden. You take a step back.

“What did you order?” He glances inside the bag, then back at you.

“A six piece, soy garlic. With a side of rice,” You sigh. “And you?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Same… except it was a ten piece for me.” Mingi looks into the bag again, then proceeds to walk towards the kitchen in silence, ignoring you.

“What?!” You follow him into the kitchen.

“Why do they do that?” Mingi takes out both orders from the bag and places them on the dining table. “Is it easier for them to put two orders in one bag even though they’re different?”

“I think it’s because we live in the same place, maybe they thought it was meant to be ordered together…” You respond, staring at the food on the table. “And our orders aren’t even that different.”

“Whatever,” Mingi takes a seat and starts eating. You awkwardly stand there for a moment, unsure of what to do. *Uh…*You guys don’t ever eat at the dining table together. Does he expect you to leave? You suppose you could. You could take your food into your room for privacy, but then again it would just make the room smell like fried chicken…

“Are you not going to eat?” He asks, interrupting your thoughts. Your eyes widen at his bluntness, and you take your seat across from him. You don’t argue since you really were starving.

“I will,” You say and proceed. It was delicious, greasy, and filling—the perfect hangover cure. You guys eat in silence for a while. Luckily, you both distracted yourselves with your phones, so there was no space for small talk, thankfully. You wouldn’t be able to stand it. And he didn’t seem to want to talk to you anyways. What is there to even say honestly, you thought. This is how it should be.

You were in the middle of responding to Yeosang’s texts when you hear him place his phone back on the table.

“You’re welcome, by the way.” He says.

You look up, slightly confused. For letting you sit with him at lunch? For giving you your food? “For what?”

The corners of his lips tug up slightly, but then his expression returns to its neutral, indifferent state. “I think I went up to use the bathroom around two in the morning. Nearly had a heart attack seeing you on the floor. I didn’t know you went all out when you drink..”

Your eyes widen. Oh no…

“Wait, you…” Your words falter as your brain finally connects the dots. It was no wonder you were still in your same clothes and makeup. You usually had the strength to complete those tasks no matter how drunk you were—but I guess you hadn’t been that drunk. The memories of last night seem to gather once more, and you feel your face heat up.

“Yes,” Mingi says after swallowing a mouthful. He scans your face, and his eyes show a slight hint of amusement. “You wouldn’t budge, no matter how long or hard I shook you. I had to flush that disgusting toilet bowl, and carried you to your room.”

“Oh god,” You throw your face in your hands. “Oh my god. That is so embarrassing-”

“It’s fine, I know it was a Friday night just-” Mingi glances back down to his food. “Don’t do that next time.”

“That won’t happen again. I can usually handle myself. I don’t know- I guess last night was too much, I was-” You scramble to find the words, but decided not to put forth any excuses. You sigh heavily. “Thanks..”

Mingi simply nods and finishes up his food. After checking his phone one more time, he stands up.

“Well, now I think you owe me y/n,” He says and slides over his dirty dishes to you. “My dishes, for the next two weeks?”

“Huh?!” You scoff with your mouth half full of chicken. What the hell? You decided to challenge him with his own words. “What happened to keeping to ourselves and doing our own chores?” You did NOT want to involve yourself with another roommate related fiasco, yet here you were. It was as if these conflicts were inevitable, and you two kept clashing at the most random of times.

“Oh I know, but you didn’t. Drunk on the bathroom floor definitely crossed that line,” Mingi says matter-of-factly. It was true. You shivered at the reminder that he carried you into your room. What did he even think of you? You immediately pushed that thought away. **“But anyway… as roommates. I helped you, and now you have to help me. Right?”

Roommates.

“Fine, is that how it’s going to work now?” You sigh in defeat. “Two weeks, and that’s it.”

“Deal.” Mingi smiles a little, then leaves the kitchen.

What just happened?

~

next chapter >

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tags: @hwaskookies @chicksmoothie

[n30nwrites]

Heel (Shifter TF141 x Male! Reader)

Chapter 3 of Good Doggy.

Masterlist here

Warnings - Just some sadness. Some thought of death but nothing too in detail. Some talks of sex and mention of Mating??? But nothing too explicit. Reader is kind of a dick but I understand it, you won't for a bit though. Also Price thinks about some dark things like kidnapping/murder, along with some thoughts on noncon biting, Lowkey the boys get kind of yandere in a way but nothing too dark I think. Ghost thinks about killing you. Also internalized homophobia but enough to not even notice, Thoughts of dubious consent.

Updated: 3/5/2024

Beta Reader/Editor: The one and only @letmelickyoureyeballs

Gaz takes his first step towards hope and he now understands everything.

He understands why Soap wouldn't shut up yesterday about you. He understands why Price held that meeting. He understands why Ghost keeps staring. He understands why he had to wait.

All good things come to those who wait. And he was patient. Some god out there must have seen that and granted him you. Because even though your eyes are covered he knows that you are it for him. It hasn't been officially confirmed, but there was no way you weren't it.

He doesn't think he can handle you not being his mate.

The car door opens and a woman walks out. And you greet her with a hug and a whisper in her ear about the stares from the neighbors, which she laughs at and kisses your cheek. And Gaz pauses in his movement.

He can hear his pack’s footsteps as they stumble out the door. Their words of protest at his actions quickly came to a stop as they realized that someone had joined you.

You take off your glasses to look at them as you pull away and he can imagine a future with you. He wants to live in this neighborhood, your house or his but he knew his would be big enough for a litter of pups. He wanted to have you stay home, healthy and fat and never in danger. 

Kyle looked at you like there was something worth looking at.

He now knows that he is going to continue loving you, and that he does not see a future when you will eventually pass on as all humans do. You are too gorgeous to be real, exactly what he waited for all this time and he does not regret it all.

You can't help but question your neighbors. There's four of them, as it turns out. All in black which you would judge if you weren't doing the same. Maya follows your gaze and you know that their attention must be on her.

She's beautiful, and you aren't insecure of yourself in a way, but even you had feelings for her at one point. Her left arm is a metal prosthetic, one that was forged by a family friend. She stands tall and proud and it makes you feel more confident. 

"Can I help you gentlemen?" She understands society's norms. She's polite with a possible killer, she bares her teeth showing a smile that is wide and almost innocent to falsely secure these men in front of her. She was a killer in disguise. Prepared at all times.

"Just greeting the new neighbors." Kyle says and the other three come next to him. They are in your yard, something that makes you uncomfortable.

"You greet differently than your friends." You comment, glancing at Soap and Ghost. "Still seem to have a staring problem." You lower your sunglasses more trying to ignore the harsh light. You make eye contact with each of them and your chest aches at it. "This is my partner-"

"Maya." She interrupts, taking the attention away from you. "You gentlemen mind helping us move our stuff in." And you glare at her, not that you cared for their help, you didn't like people touching your stuff nor did you like strangers being in your space. She was the opposite, she didn’t care if people entered her house. You guessed that now you had to share a living space with her, you’d have to get over it at some point. They step closer to agree.

"Really gonna invite some strangers to help?" You say loudly, knowing that they heard because you didn't care to hide the dislike. 

"I don't wanna carry these boxes darling..." She drags out the word, "Plus you need to rest for work tonight." Your shift lasts from 10 pm to 6 am. "Don't want you to tire yourself out."

She puts on a caring layer. You trust her but you don't like this form of parenting she's trying to do with you. 

"I'm not leaving them with our stuff. Go get the boys set up." You tell her as you head to the back of the trunk and open it. Maya opens the side door, grabbing two animal carriers. You can hear your dog barking, Maya’s cat was probably sleeping. The car smells of sulfur and you twitch your nose, adjusting your face mask. "You can go back to your house." You say to them right as Maya goes inside.

"We said we'd help, might as well." You weren't expecting the accent to come from the stalker with the mohawk. "I'm Soap." Soap, it was a strange nickname. "That's Ghost." He points to the stalker with the mask. 

Soap and Ghost. Your two witnesses to your moving in. The men who just stared.

They look familiar.

"I'm Kyle." He's hot. You're staring at him, fully aware of that. They're all hot. He holds out his hand and you shake it, not immediately repulsing at the touch which was strange. You say your name. "That's Price." He points to John.

"John Price..." You say his name aloud, "And here I thought you were just John." You told him, grabbing a box of books and shoving it into Kyle's arms. "Living room, next to the built-in bookcase by the sun nook."

You kept shoving the boxes into their arms, anxious every time you couldn't see one of them. Out of all four of them, Ghost made you the most uncomfortable. He wouldn't stop staring. And you told him as much when it came to an end.

"Do you stare because you plan to kill me or simply because you have issues?" Maya had insisted you'd walk them to their house despite it being right across from yours. She said it was the polite thing to do, and you told her that it was bullshit but you weren't going to argue against her and waste your energy on it. Ghost was the last to walk onto the porch, still not blinking. "If you are going to kill me, you will fail."

"Why did you move here?" He asks, and they are all staring.

"Learn to blink." You tell him, "You do not need to know why I am here. We are not friends, we are not gonna be friends, Maya is nice to you because she thinks you are attractive and I can see where it is coming from, but this thing you are doing, talking and trying to help out and telling me your nicknames."

You pause as you stare at Kyle's eyes.

"It's useless. I want nothing to do with you."

And Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick breaks inside.

"You are being too cruel to them," Maya says as you close the door. The house is soundproof, she made sure of it. She knows they can hear the conversation if they wanted to, which is why she had blocked off any possible sound to escape.

"How? They are being a nuisance-"

"They are men who found their mate. I've seen worse reactions when soulmates meet, surprised they haven't hugged you at all." Maya manipulates her fingers in the air as if she’s plucking a string, and she probably is through her eyes. Maya had always had a gift to see the bond between others, The Strings of Fate, a curse Zeus put on everyone eons ago. Theseus escaped the Minotaur with his thread that connected him to Ariadne, and it seemed Clotho had it in for you. It used to be that everyone could see their own String of Fate, until a few centuries ago when an argument broke out amongst the Gods. Now only a certain few could, and Maya was one of them. 

"If they did I would cut their cocks off." You cringe at the idea of touch. "I do not understand why you are defending them-"

"Because you are being an asshole!" Maya shouts and you turn away, rubbing at your nose as you let out a sigh.

"I understand why they are acting the way they are." Kyle's and Soap's puppy dog eyes almost broke you, they were too handsome. "But you understand why I am like this. It is better to tell them upfront is it not?"

"You haven't even given them a chance-"

"I am not leading them on. I am not manipulating them like I could. I do not want anything to do with them and you know that that is for the best." She says your name to stop you, and you're confused by it.

Why can't she admit to herself the truth? It happened to you just a couple of years ago and you were already over it, but yet she couldn't be?

"Maya," You look at her, "I do not have a soul. I can not feel what they feel. It is impossible for me to have soulmates."

It's confusing. When everything you thought you know changes. How a simple moment becomes so complicated. It's happened to Gaz a few times in his life, where he's had to change everything he's thought and adapt to the new.

You were supposed to be a woman.

He was supposed to be straight.

He never thought about people in a romantic sense. Sex was one thing, it's a way to release emotions and it's something fun. You didn't have to have an emotional tie with someone for it. But dating was separate. You had to let people in for that, to let them know the ugly parts of you and trust that they won't run.

You weren't supposed to run.

Gaz leaves first. He's the first to stop staring at the air, going into his room and immediately undressing. His mind is blank, running on instincts. The minute he’s done, he’s out the backdoor shifting. 

The pain of his bones breaking quickly disappears, but he welcomes it despite how little it was. He grows paws and fur all over his body, and goes back to his basic instincts.

He's gone for hours.

Price is the last to move. He's angry at you for everything you said, he’s half a mind to go into your house and just kidnap you.

Who were you to tell him what to do? You were a selfish human, completely unaware of everything they were willing to do for you. You had them on a leash, begging for scraps of attention that you were starving them for.

You hated him, and that made John angry. He wants to burn your house down and show you that you can't be safe without him, he wants to kill Maya, she took you from him.

From them.

He can hear the howls from Gaz and he grabs a bottle of Scotch from the cabinet. He chugs it down, it's not that hard to finish a drink, especially when you crave the burn of it. He wants to shift as well, but that would require ignoring his responsibilities. 

He wished he could show you what makes him right for you.

He just needed one night with you and he was sure he could change your mind. One bite and it was all over, you'd be stuck with him.

He lights a cigar and stays in the kitchen, quiet.

Stupid, foolish human. Weak, you were pathetic truly.

It was one thing to not like him, it was another to hurt his family.

He thinks that killing you would make it all go away. Ghost doesn't care that it would hurt him for eternity if he was to kill you, he's convinced he can do it and make his pack forget about you, whether it's with time or a witch.

He's convinced that he could get away with it. 

And then he remembers your heart beat and he can't. He knows he can't kill you. But he wishes it was that easy.

Instead of planning your demise, Ghost calls every contact he has looking for information about you. Looking for anything, and while he finds out your last name, he comes to realize that you did not exist 6 years ago.

And when he calls Laswell to question you, she insists he stops looking if he wants to stay safe.

He does not listen.

Soap thinks about every movement you make.

He convinces himself you're playing hard to get. That you like being chased after like a bunny.

His bunny, his defenseless mate who doesn’t know what was good for him.

You were ignorant, it was okay.

He could help you.

"Ah will protect ye mate. Yer mines bun." 

------

NEXT

Okay so maybe I wrote a bit longer. And yeah maybe the boys do seem out of character but literally they will not be like this long, it is just the idea that losing half of your soul makes you mad.

This is just chapter 3 and it's heavy with angst ig?? Um next chapter will definitely be lighter, and so will chapter 5. But hey I guess it's your decision to stick around for that long.

Also maya looks like Salma Hayek because that is a beautiful woman.

And I am not sure how to write Soap's dialect?? I'm trying my best I swear.

Also please leave comments and reblog, more interaction means more interest and I'll probably continue to write it.