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justmymindandstuff · 2 days ago

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Desire - Robb Stark X WifeReader

summary: Your life is perfect. You are happily married to your husband Robb Stark and gave birth to your first son a few moons ago. But since then things have changed between you. You miss your husbands touches but after you told him about your worries he shows you how wrong you are.

words: 6.132

warnings: self-doubt, discomfort, smut (oral f receving, fingering, p in v sex), pregnancy Kink (kind of/ mention), Porn with Plot ,fluff, 18 +,MDNI

as always english is not my first language, no beta reader so all mistakes are mine //No use of Y/N // Hope you have fun with this // AO3

requests are open // main-masterlist // GoT-masterlist

You sigh and look back in the mirror in front of you, you turn to the side a few times to look at yourself from as many angles as possible. Then another sigh. Your son babbles in his cradle next to you. You give him a smile. He would soon see his fourth moon. You can't imagine what life was like before him, or maybe you don't want to. The last years have been marked with war, loss, mourning, fear and suffering. First the Lions, then the Others. But you've been through all this, you and your husband, Robb Stark, King of the North. You wipe your black hair out off your face.

The minute it was clear that you are a girl, your father, King Robert, engaged you to the heir of his best friend. You knew all your life that you were going to be Robb's wife, and at age seven, you were sent to Winterfell to live here as Neds ward. You were supposed to become Lady Stark of Winterfell, but then your father died, the truth about your (half)siblings came out, and for Robb and you all this brought the crown of the North. You were dragged into this terrible game of thrones, had to forge alliances, foresee the intrigues of your enemies, and were faced with so many impossible choices. Who do you trust? Who can help you? Who will betray you? You remember with an unpleasant feeling the cold night in the harbour, the wind blowing outside the windows and in a few hours you would sail off to Dragonstone. "Do you want the throne my love?" Robb had whisperd into the night. You lay naked and tightly wrapped around eachother in the uncomfortable bed, his seed was still sticking to your thighs, and when he asked, everything in you was drawn together. You are the only living, legitimate child of your father, his throne, the Iron Throne, is actually yours. "No. Give it to the Dragon Queen, for her help and the independence of the North." The Dragon Queen accepted your offer, and when all the armies of the North and the Riverlands, the Unsullied, the Droharki and three Dragons stood before King's landing, it was over. The city had already opened the gates and ringed the bells. Tywin Lannister could do nothing but lose his head. Then you have turned your armies to the north, just in time to defeat the Night king.

A knock at the door trear you away from your thoughts of the past. "Come in." the door opens and Catelyn enters.

"Hello, Dear," she says in a warm voice, smiling at you. "How are you?"

"Good," you answer, and it's not even a lie. You have a perfect husband, a healthy son and a great family. What more could you wish for? Your mother-in-law is smiling at you.

"Robb is back soon the banners are already on the horizon," she tells you.

You can feel your heart beating faster when you think of your husband. After all these years, mentioning his name is enough, and you feel like a love-sick teenager again. Robb had been in Karhold to attend Lady Karstark's wedding. The journey would have been too long for your son, and you didn't want to be separated from him for so long. So Robb left with a heavy heart without you.

"Finally," you say, and then you take Catelyn's hand. "Thank you again for helping me so much over the last few weeks. I know I have neglected my duties as a queen."

"You're now a mother Dear." her gaze goes to the crib and a sparkling enters her eyes as she looks at her first grandson. "Of course, there are shifts in priorities. That's normal."

You nod, even if you're feeling bad anyway. During Robb's absence, it would have been your job to take care of the North and Winterfell, but your thoughts are always with your little son.

"If you want I can take little Ed for a few hours?" your mother in law asks. "You and Robb were separated for a long time."

Your ears are getting red because you know exactly what she means. "That's not necessary." you say and smile. It's not like you don't trust Catelyn with Eddard but it's really not necessary.

Catelyn smiles. "I was once young and in love too." she says. You try to smile, but instead you sight. Catelyn shrinks her eyebrows. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"I can see in your face that something is wrong."

Your gaze goes back to the mirror. Your marriage to Robb is perfect, he's like one of the heroes from the songs, one the best men in the Westeros, trusting, loving, honest. Everything you can wish for in a husband. God, you love this man with all your heart and you know he loves you too. Nevertheless, your heart is getting heavy. During your pregnancy you have gain weight and have not lost the soft pads on your hips, even though you had a wet nurse, your breasts are not quite as tight as before, besides that you have stretch marks over your abdomen and breasts. You look backt at Catelyn suddenly tears come into your eyes. She overcomes the distance between you in a few steps and pulls you into her arms.

"What's going on?"

It's uncomfortable for you to share these thoughts with her. But why? It was Catelyn who told you all about moon bleeding, marriage, the marriage night and birth. Your mother came to your wedding, but you were so alienated by then that you asked Lady Stark for advice. She was always like a mother to you. You get out of her hug to look at her.

"I think..." you start and swallow hard bevor you speak again. "He doesn't want me anymore," you answer. "Not since Edds birth, even in the time before. He doesn't desire me anymore."

You don't want to think about these thoughts at all, and most importantly, you do not want to keep thinking. If Robb doesn't share the bed with you anymore, who does he do it with? Only the thought that he is lying with someone else causes nausea to rise in you. But he'd never do that, you know, he would never shame you like that, never hurt you that much. Even if you're so sure, there's a voice from the corner of your mind screaming: every man has needs and you obviously can't satisfy his anymore. Everyone would let him in her bed, he always has women around him who want to seduce him. Younger than you, more beautiful than you. Virgins, whores, everybody. He's the king.

"Nonsense!" you're surprised at the sharpness of Catelyn voice, but she keeps talking. "Have you seen how he looks at you, sweetheart? That's not the way men look at women they don´t desire. He's crazy for you. He loves you."

"I didn't say he doesn't love me. I know he does. He just doesn't want me anymore, that's something else."

"Why do you think that?"

"Well, we have." you interrupt yourself, but then you throw all the shame overboard, it doesn´t help. Catelyn held your hand during the birth of your son, shame is absolutely unnecessary in this place. "We haven't shared the bed with each other since Eddard's birth. He didn't make me feel like he wanted that."

You think of the time after your wedding, sometimes you didn't even get to your cambers, he was too eager to take you. Even during the war, it was hard for him to stay away from you for more than two days. Only the memory of the gazes that he has cast on you over the battle plans in the war council, makes your cheeks glow. But since the last third of your pregnancy, he's begun to retreat from you. Not emotionally, but physically. No more hot kisses in dark corridors, no more hands wandering over your body, no longer whispers of dirty thoughts as he passes by in the corridors.

Now Catelyn sigh too. "I can only give you one advice I've learned in 16 years of marriage," she says, and you look at her curiously. "Speak with him."

You grimace, that's exactly what you didn't want. You don't want him to think he's a bad husband or that you miss something. But if you're honest, you miss it, your miss your husbands touches.

Catelyn looks at you determinedly and smiles. "I'll take Edd tonight, I want to spend more time with my grandson anyway and you talk to your husband." her voice does not allow contradiction, and even if you would want to contradict, a horn rings loudly through the hallway and over the courtyards of the castle. Robb's finally home. When you think of seeing him again, your heart beats faster, you missed him so much. You take Eddard carefully out of his bed. Fortunately, he won't wake up. You're just taking him with you because you know that Robb had a hard time being separated from his son for so long and that he really wants to see him.

In the evening, you sit on your bed and open your braids , so that your hair falls open over your shoulders. You've already dismissed your maids for the evening. The crip is now empty and you already have the need to run through Winterfell to your son. You always thought you couldn't love anyone as much as Robb, but then you held your son in your arms for the first time and your heart almost broke from love. You don't love Robb less now, it's just more love. The room door opens and Robb enters the room. When you see him, a smile comes to your face.

"My Lady Wife." he says joyfully and closes the door behind him. He comes over to you, puts a kiss on your lips and sits on the bed next to you. Then he looks at the crip "Where is Eddard?" he asks.

"With your mother, she wanted to take care of him tonight. So we may have a little rest." you answer him. He looks back at you, his gaze becomes troubled.

"Was it too exhausting to have Edd alone? Shouldn't I have left? Do you need more maids?" he asks and takes your hand in his.

"No. No, with Eddard, everything was perfect, he's perfect. The perfect little prince." you calm him down quickly. "Your mother helped me a lot with government affairs." Robb breathes out relieved.

"Good." then he stands up again and starts getting undressed. As he pulls his shirt over his head, you observe the play of his back muscles and you feel a flattening inyour abdomen. You're watching Robb change his clothes, you can't turn your eyes away from him. Then he comes back to bed, he smiles at you from above and caress you cheek, you lean into his palm and close your eyes. Then he squates down in front of you to be on an eye level with you. Your legs lie to the left and right side of his body while your bare toes slightly brush over the soft carpet on the floor.

"I missed you." you say and kiss his palm.

"I also missed you. I wanted to turn around the first day and come back to you."

You laugh quietly and start playing wit the curls in his neck. He closes his eyes and groan quietly. The familiarity you two have grown over the years fills your heart with warmth. You grew up together, were best friends for years, and you never feared marrying him. You slightly pull at the curls in his neck to get him to put his head in the neck. He opens his eyes again and looks right into your eyes, you bow down and put your lips on his. You lean into the kiss, bury your hands in his hair, but before you can intensify the kiss further, Robb pulls away.

You can't help but sigh. You could just turn around now and crawl under the soft blankets and fur, but then your worries would still be the same tomorrow. Catelyn is right, the only solution is to talk to him. You're searching for the right words, but you don't really know what to say. Robb's eyes hang on your face, he's pulling his eyebrows together.

"What's going on?" he asks.

You still don't know what to say, you can't find the right words. So you just decide to speak out. "Why don't you desire me anymore?"

Robb looks shocked at you. "What do you mean?"

You take a deep breath. "Since I was pregnant, since we had Edd, you don´t desire me anymore."

"No, that's not true," he said, shaking his head. Is he just saying that to not hurt your feelings? You know it's true, you feel it, you noticed the change in his behavior.

"Is it because I'm not as thin as I was before? Or the scars on my stomach? Because I'm a mother now? I can understand that you withdrew from our marriage bed during pregnancy, but Eddard is now four moons old, the maester said weeks ago that I´m healed, Nevertheless, you don't even touch me anymore! I can be happy if you kiss me." the words just sprinkle out of your mouth.

Robb's just looking at you for a few moments. "What are you talking about?" he asks in a quiet voice. "You think I don´t want you? You think I would not longing after you every second oft the day?"

There's something flashing in his eyes and he's moving so fast that you can't even react. Suddenly you lie with your back on the bed, Robb over you. You can feel his body on yours, but you know that he holds most of his weight on his knee between your legs. On his face appears the trace of a smile.

"My queen," he whispers in your ear and then places a kiss right below your earlobes. You shiver slightly and bite your lips so you not let out desperate moan. Gods, you missed his touches. Your hands lie around his body, caress the muscles of his shoulders. "I let you down, made you feel like you weren't desirable. I'm sorry, wife, forgive me." his words are followed by a series of kisses, over your neck, your cheek and finally your lips. When his tongue slips into your mouth, you can't help but cry out. Your body bends toward him and you can feel the pleasant poaching between your legs.

He separates himself from you, rests on his elbows and looks into your eyes. You bend up to feel his lips on yours again, the familiar feeling of his lips allowing heat to flow through your whole body. But again Robb doesn´t let you intensify the kiss an pulls away.

"Wifey," he says in a dark voice with a hint of his northern accent. "I'm sorry, I didn't want you to feel like I woun´t desire you." his lips goes back to your neck, first he places light kisses and then he begins to suck. A whimper comes over your lips. Robb's hands wander over your body, you wish your thin nightgrown wasn't between you. He lets go of your neck again, and you know you're gonna have his mark tomorrow. But you doesn´t care. Your hands wander over his shoulders forward to his chest and you draw on the fabric of his shirt. You want to feel his skin under your hands, but Robb grabs your hands and pushes them with one hand on your wrists over your head into the mattress.

"I forgive you." you say, you can hardly forme a clear thought, it's all about Robb and your desire for him. "Please, Robb." you don't know exactly what you're asking him for, you just want the burning desire in your body to be fed. A deep groaning comes out of his throat, but he won't let go of your hands. You push your hips against his, you feel his body and his hard member on you. Robb and you both moan at the little friction. He caress with one hand over your body, circles around your chest and lets his thumb run over your nipples. You try to suppress a moan, you don't want to look as desperate as you are. Gods, you missed your husband's touches.

"Did you want to know the truth? Why I have withdrawn from you?" he says, bowing down slightly to kiss you, your tongues are playing with each other. Robb finally releases your wrists, you immediately bury your hands in his curls, while Robb puts his hand on your cheek. The gentle stroking of his hand doesn't quite match the hot intensity with which he claims your mouth as hi. You keep pressing on to him. You want to feel every inch of his body against yours. You know you're incredibly wet, almost embarrassed how little it took.

Robb's hands wander over your body, he gently pushes your nightgown up above your hips, finally his warm hand touches your thigh.

"I could hardly be near you without going completely mad." he starts kissing your neck again, going slowly over your collarbone. You slightly pull his hair to get him to kiss your lips again, but he only bites swiftly, then kiss the place again. His hand goes higher and higher under your nightgown until it finally reaches exactly where you want it to be. In the next moment, he pushes a finger into you and moves it slowly. You inhale sharply, bend your hips towards him.

"I had to keep thinking about the fact that you were carrying my child in you. Gods, you thought I don´t want you anymore because you were pregnant? On the contrary, I wanted you every second. I would rather have you locked up in this room. Every second I could only think of pushing you against the next wall and taking you right there."

His lips find yours again, you spread your legs further for him, make room for him and bow toward him. Your hands wander over his neck, his shoulders, to his muscular upper arms. You need something to hold on to. Robb squeezes his thumb into slight circles over your clitoris and your legs start to tremble.

"Fuck. I could no longer have a clear thought, could not concentrate, could hardly be a king, because my thoughts were constantly circling around you. I had to stay away so that I could function at all, so I would not fall over you." he adds another finger. A wet sound fills the room as you are still trying to understand his words. He starts kissing your collarbone again. His lips wander deeper and he starts kissing your breasts over your nightgrown. The movement of his fingers becomes faster, he curves them slightly and increases the pressure on your clit a little. Then he'll start sucking on your nipple.

"Robb," you cry out. The feeling of his lips, his fingers, of him is strange, but simultaneously so familiar. Your whole body is trembling. His teeth brush against the fabric of your nightgown as he intensifies the movement of his fingers and the stimulation of your clit. Your fingers scratch over his skin as you come around his finger with a moan.

Robb waits until you have calmed down again and then gently removes his fingers from you, in the light of the flames you can recognize the glitter of moisture on his fingertips. Robb takes them into his mouth and the sight alone almost makes you moan again. Your breathing is still a little fast, Robb gently kisses your cheeks and smiles at you.

"You taste as sweet as I remember, even better," he whispers in your ear before his lips find yours again.

You bit him slightly in the lower lip, causing him to shudder. You want him. You have to have him. You want to feel him. You push your hips forward, make them slide against the center of his body. You feel his hardness. Robb groans in your mouth, then place his hand at your hips and he pushes you back onto the soft mattress.

"Not so impatient, my queen." he says, and a slight smile appears on his face. He's driving you crazy. His lips wander over your neck, your breasts. Your nightgown is in his way. "Are you hanging on this night grown?" he asks you quietly with a rough voice.

"No." you say confused about his question, and at the next moment he tears your nightgown of your body.

"Robb, I liked it despite that." when the cold air hits your body, your nipples arise, and the next moment his lips surround your nipple, while his hand embraces your other breast, he rubs his thumb over your nippel. Your protest immediately disappears from your lips and is replaced by a moan. You throw your head back into the soft pillows. Your body burns from craving and you give yourself to it. "Robb, please. I want you." you beg him, you want to finally feel him inside you again.

"Let me take care of you first. " he says, his eyes sparkling in the light of the candle, his gaze is full of desire but he holds back. On face appears a smiling, more wolf than man. His lips find yours again, for a fast and hot kiss. Robb's hands wander across your body, his touches are tender, you get goosebumps all over your body. His hands seem to be everywhere on you, sliding down your arms, cupping your breasts, trickling along your waist. His lips followed them down. He kisses ever centimeter of your body. Quiet praises falling from his lips.

"My beautiful wife. My queen. You're perfect. Never think anything else."

And you believe him. With every word, every kiss, the self-doubt disappears. Your body stretches toward him and you feel like the blood in your veins is replaced by fire. Robb's lips slowly wander over your belly, his beard slightly tickles on your skin, his hands move along your sides, laying on your hips.

Feather-light kisses wander over the stretch marks on your belly. "You're so beautiful. I didn't deserve you." Robbs hands slip over your hips down to your thighs, and he slightly pushes them apart. You gladly give in and open your legs for him.Robb makes himself comfortable between your legs, kisses the inside of your thigh, you wimper as his beard strikes over the skin. Anticipation runs through your entire body and you feel yourself clenching around nothing.

"Robb, please."

"Gods, since when have you been so impatient Love?" you can hear the laughter in his voice.

"I have waited months for..." your sentence ends in a cry as his tongue slides through your folds up to your clit. He moans as he tastes you an the vibration sends sparkling through your whole body. Your hand is buried in his curls, your nails scratch slightly over his scalp. You're pressing your hips against his mouth, wimpering desperate. His tongue rotates over your clit. He alternates between sucking and licking. You groan. His beard lightly scratches the skin of your thighs. His tongue slides from your clit through your folds. Robb moans as his tongue presses into you. Your legs are starting to shake again. He rolls his tongue slightly. Hot pleasure runs through you. You twitch against his mouth. Your body shudders and the familiar knot forms in your abdomen. Robb eats you out like a starving man. He licks up every drop of your wetness. His tongue skilled switches back and forth. He feast on your cunt, licks over your folds and your clit. Then he sucks lightly, making you scream. For a moment you're worried that the guards in the hallway will hear you, but when Robb drives back inside you and rolls his tongue every thought flies out of your mind and all you can do is moan for him. Your fingernails scrape across his scalp. He groans and this sound is enough to make you clench again. Your hips rise towards him. Robb laughs darkly and pushes you back onto the bed with one hand. He is enjoying himself a little to much. His tongue doesn't stop for a second.

"Robb I." you start but can't finish your sentence. The pleasure he gives you makes your whole body tremble. You notice sweat forming on your forehead. You shift back and forth in his grip. Can't decide if it's too much or if you want more.

"I got you my beautiful wife." his voice sends vibrations through your core and you flinch away slightly. But Robbs immediately pulls you back onto his mouth. "Come for me." his tongue slaps against your clit. You moan and your orgasm washes over you. You squeeze your eyes shut as you writhe back and forth on the sheets. Your body pulsates pleasantly as your pleasure takes over you. Robb carefully kisses your middle, your thighs, tastes your wetness on his tongue. Robbs fingers caress your legs.

You're slowly coming back to reality. Your skin burns under his fingers. Your breathing is heavy and you have to blink a few times before your vision becomes clear again. You lean slightly on your elbows and look down at Robb. His eyes are on you, he is watching you. There is a satisfied grin on his lips.

"Your are a sight for sore eyes Wifey." his voice is now heavy with his northern accent. His eyes dark with lust and pure desire in his gaze. The hunger in his eyes makes you blush like a maiden and at the same time sends hot shivers through you.

With a smile on your lips your roll your eyes. Your heart is full of love for Robb. He places another kiss on your center. You twitch away from the overstimulation. You whimper softly. Robb sits up again. His hand wipes your wetness from his beard before letting his lips wander over your body again. He knows well that you can´t stand the cold feeling of his wet beard on your skin. He, on the other hand, loves it when the evidence of your desire for him runs down his chin.

Your lips meet for a kiss, you taste yourself on his tongue. You moan and lean into his touch. Your hands wander down his body impatiently,your hands paint over his hardness, his hips bend forward and he groans in your kiss. Suddenly your hands are pushed away and in the next moment Robb pushes his pants from his hips. His cock is hard and stretches toward you, the tip red and dripping with precum.

"I know I have a lot to make up for but I can't wait." you giggle softly at his words and open your legs for him again. His gaze lingers briefly on his wet middle and he takes a deep, shaky breath. “Fuck you look like a goddess."

"Stop with the compliments and finally take me." you say impatiently. New desire burns within you. You can hardly wait to finally feel him inside you again.

Robb positions itself at your entrance, your lips meet again for a passionate kiss. Your husband pushes himself inside you with one quick thrust. Your scream is swallowed by your kiss. Robb pauses, pressing his forehead to yours. His body is shaking. Sweat forms on his bare chest. You raise your hands and scratch lightly over your muscles. But you also need a moment too to get used to the feeling of fullness. Gods did you miss this. You push your hips towards him as a sign that he should move. Slowly he pulls back just to let himself sink back into you, making you feel every inch of its length. You throw your head back on the pillow and moan. Your legs spread further, allowing him to go a little deeper inside you. Pleasure runs through your entire body. You wrap your legs around his wais,push yourself towards him. Robb moans in your ear before he curses quietly. He's so deep inside of you, his body heavy and warm on yours, right now there's nothing for you but him. The sky could fall down and you wouldn´t notice.

"Fuck. I missed you so much." you moan. Enjoying his thrusts and the pleasant pulsation in your center.

"I missed you too. I´m so sorry Love. Don't ever doubt me again. I will never let you doubt again how much I desire you. I promise." he kisses your lips, you open your lips a little and his tongue slips back into your mouth.He doesn´t stop his thrusts for a second. Each of his movemens is precise and lets you see stars. Robb takes you slowly, enjoying every second.

The knot in your stomach is starting to build up again as he rolls his hips, grinding over your clit. Your hands wander over his muscular body as your hips meet each of his movements. Your legs start shaking again.

"Fuck Robb."

His hand is on your cheek, and he gently caress you. His lips never leave yours for a second, your tongues dance around each other. He bites your lip. You moan in response. You lean your head back a little, gasping for air. Robbs lips immediately attack your neck again, he sucks dark marks on your skin.

The knot in your body becomes more intense gets stronger with each of its shocks, you can feel how you pulse around his cock "Please don't stop."

"I could never my sweet love." he whispers, hot breath on the skin of your neck. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you."

Your bodies melt into each other. Robb takes your hand, intertwines your fingers with each other. All our thoughts are just Robb, his body on yours, his cock inside you, his sent around you, the feeling of his warm skin on yours. You clench again around him, make him shiver.

"It feels so good." you moan.

Robb smiles, catches your lips in a kiss. "I know Love. If you ever doubt again that you are not the most beautiful woman on earth to me, say a word and I will fuck that nonsense out of your pretty head." You whimper at his words. His thrusts become harder as he gets closer to his own orgasm. Rapid breathing mixes with your moans. "Have you understand me?"

You nod and Robb stops in the middle of his movement. His cock slips almost out of you. You want to scream in frustration.

"Words. You know that."

"Yes, I understand." you say breathlessly.

He rams himself back with one thrust. "How about I keep you full of me. I'll give you another child. So everyone can see how much I love you. This time, I'm doing it right. I will not depart from you, I will tell you every day how beautiful you are."

Your pleasures pass through you like a storm. Heat runs through your veins as your legs start to tremble again. You interlock your ankles behind his lower back and press him closer into you.

"Please." you whisper and you barely recognize your own voice. You pull his head on his hair from your neck back to your lips and kiss him passionately. Robb's moans in your mouth. A dark, animalistic tone that causes a shiver all over your body.

"God, you're gonna look so good, full with my child." Robbs voice trembles. He is lost in his lust and in you.

"Yes, please give me another child Robb." you want a second child, and a third and a fourth. "A whole bunch of wolfpuppies."

Robb laughs quietly, you stretch to kiss his cheek. His beard picks slightly on your cheek as your lips wander over his cheekbone to his neck to spread kisses there. His laughter becomes a moan, his grip on your hands become stronger, as his strokes become faster. Again, you can't suppress a moan, your free hand goes over his arm and you sink your nails into his shoulder, you need something to hold on to. Hot waves of desire pass through your body and you feel your next orgasm approach. You are not sure if you can come again. It´s to much and at the same time not enough.

"I'll share every thought with you, I'll whisper to you in the council meeting that I'd rather would like to bend you right over the table. And when they're all gone, that's exactly what I'm going to do. I don't care if anyone can hear us. Let them. Let everyone hear how much I love you. How much I long for you. You'll get sick of me."

You shiver at his words, your whole body cramps and in the next moment your orgasm breaks over you. You can feel your nails crawling into the skin of his shoulder, and Robb moans when you clench around him. Uncontrollable and overwhelming, your pleasure drowns you and makes your vison blurr. Robb's name falls from your lips like a prayer. Robb is slowing down his strokes again as he leads you through your orgasm. As the first waves weaken, you feel Robb's thrust get faster again, you throw your head back as you cry out loudly.

"You're doing so well. Milking me so good. Gods I would die for just one second longer in your sweet cunt Love." he praises you, thrusting harder into you. Only now do you realize how much he has holding himself back all this time. You whimper and tremble under him. You can't do anything else but take it. Enjoying the feeling of him losing himself inside you while chasing his own orgasm.

Robb's hand goes between your bodys and starts rubbing fast circles over your clit. In the same second he bites your collarbone, as he sinks even deep inside you. With a groan he comes inside you. The combination of his twitching cock inside you, the skillfull circles around your clit and the slight pain at your collarbone pull you over the cliff again and you scream out your lust. Tears flow out of your eyes and your whole body trembles around him.

He moves carefully for a few more moments before stopping. You're both gasping for air. You have to blink before your vision clears again. Your gaze finds his. His eyes are full of love for you. For a moment you're just looking at each other. An exhausted smile spreads on your faces. You whipe a sweaty strand of hair off his forehead and kiss his lips. Then you put your arms around his neck and pull him down to you. Robb lets his weight fall on you, you can feel every inch of his body on your heated skin, but it's not uncomfortable, it makes you feel safe. You feel warm, loved and happy. Everything is as it should be. Not a single thought of self-doubt is in your head. Robb spreads light kisses on your the skind of your neck. You're scratching his neck wraping his damp curls around your fingers. He sight and close his eyes and buries his nose in the crook of your neck. You stay for a few minutes just lying like this, enjoying each other.

Robb kisses your forehead, then gently rolls down from you. As he slips out of you, you immediately miss the feeling of him inside you.

"Are you all right?" he whispers.

"Yes." you answer in the same volume. "You?"

"Of course." smiling, he turns to his side, pulls you in his arms and kisses your cheek. "I mean what I said. There's no one else for me. I love you. With every fiber of my body, I love and desire you. Always. Please don't forget that. I'm sorry you doubted me. That's never gonna happen again. I swear. I love you so much."

You slide closer to him and paint small circles over his chest. "I love you." you kiss his naked chest and caress over his arm. Then you shigh satisfied and cuddel closer to your husband.

"Don't make yourself too comfortable, I'm not done with you jet." he whispers in your ear with a rough, deep voice, and you have to bite your lips to suppress a whimper. Gods, how could you ever doubt him?

#robb stark #robb stark x reader #robb stark x you #robb stark fic #game of thrones fic #robb stark smut #robb stark x reader smut #got smut #robb stark x you smut #robb stark fluff #robb stark fanfiction #robb stark fanfic #game of thrones

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icarusflewsworld · 17 hours ago

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Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 9 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I hope you like it! Please feel free to comment and telling me what you think of the story, it would make me very happy. In any case, thank you for reading ❤️❤️

! Don't forget to read the previous chapters ! : Here

Happy reading!

Chapter 9

“Hey, what are you doing,” Feyre asked worriedly as she walked around the table to follow them, ready to defend her best friend.

Azriel growled, being the only thing he could do, still filled with anger and jealousy that burned in his chest. He continued to pull Luxiana who followed him, laughing softly and trying not to lose balance and fell. Azriel had the logical thought to tell himself that she really had no survival instinct to laugh as she was dragged by three faes into another room.

Cassian didn't even turn around to Feyre who was following them to tell her coldly, "This is something between her and us. It doesn't concern you."

"Rhysand," Tamlin called out in a threatening voice, glaring at the other high lord and joining Feyre.

The three Illyrians froze stiffly at the sound of their enemy's voice, stopping in the hall, a few steps ahead of Feyre, Tamlin, and everyone else.

Rhysand grimaced in a mixture of disgust and anger. He was facing Luxiana who watched this reaction with a tilted head. Feeling the blonde's eyes on him, he looked down at her and instantly calmed down. "We're just going to talk."

They all three started moving again and so Azriel started pulling Luxiana. "It'll be okay Feyfey, don't worry, they just want to talk." She threw a mischievous and hilarious look at Feyre who gave her a jaded look back.

Feyre knew her best friend could defend herself, but she doubted her ability to overpower the Lord of the Night Court if he was as powerful as Lucien and Tamlin said.

They all stood frozen in the hall as the three Illyrians entered an adjacent room, throwing the door open abruptly.

"Hey, this isn't your place, where do you think you are going?" Nesta cursed as she took a step towards them but was stopped by Feyre who motioned her head to her, silently telling her not to go. She didn't want her sister to get into trouble unlike Luxiana who knew very well how to defend herself.

The three Illyrians paid no attention to Nesta's reflection, far too consumed by anger for Luxiana and her unknown man. Azriel pulled Luxiana inside what looked like a living room with two sofas on either side of a small table. He abruptly placed her in front of him, while Cassian slammed the door behind them to close it.

Azriel glanced at Rhysand to confirm that he had indeed erected a sound shield around them so that no one could hear the discussion. Rhysand nodded, silently assuring him that he could speak freely.

Luxiana looked them over one by one with a smile on her lips. She was eager to see what they had to say to her and why they had reacted like that. It was full of mystery and she loved it. "You wanted to talk to me?" she pointed out in a confident voice, not even a little intimidated, or at least not that she showed it.

Azriel barely waited for her to finish her sentence, which he hadn't even heard, to grab her chin with his free hand, digging his index finger and thumb into each of her cheeks. He lifted her head and pulled her towards him, sticking her to his chest. "Who the fuck is Kayden?"

"Az," Rhysand called out. He wanted to order him to let her go and calm down, but the truth was that he was in the same state as him. As them. They were now one with his brothers, and they could feel how jealous Cassian was, how angry Azriel was, and how hurt he was by her seeing another man. He knew because they all three felt the same way now.

Luxiana's eyebrows twitched for a second, restraining herself from frowning. What was that question? Why was he asking her that? Had he brought her here for this? It didn't make sense. She tried to back away and get out of Azriel's grip but he tightened his grip on her cheeks and arm, pulling her closer to him again.

"You better not hurt her," Cassian warns, glaring at Azriel and placing his hand on his bicep to try to make him let her go.

Luxiana frowned uncontrollably this time. He wasn't hurting her. He looked mad with rage at her, for some reason she didn't know -the veins in his eyes were bursting and his temples were pounding fiercely- but despite that, he wasn't hurting her even though he looked like he wanted to kill someone. It was cute. "I barely feel it," she replied with a smirk at Cassian.

Cassian raised an eyebrow in surprise before finally smiling in turn, reassured and adoring her behavior.

"Who is it?" Azriel repeated more firmly, throwing an insistent and furious glance at Luxiana. His teeth were clenched so tightly that it hurt, but when she smiled, he was completely destabilized, especially when her fingers dug into his dimples. And he almost couldn't look away from her red lips that she wore so well.

"Why do you care?" she replied suspiciously, narrowing her eyes to take in each of their reactions.

Rhysand closed his eyes, concentrating on trying to compartmentalize his and his brothers' emotions as waves of anger and arousal at Luxiana's provocation crashed over him. Over them. Of course, he was dying for that answer too, but the way she was behaving around them was turning him on far too much. Far less than it was turning Cassian on, though.

Cassian, feeling the wave of anger turning Azriel from the inside -and him and Rhys at the same time-, did not decide to wait for his brother's reaction to push him and force him to release Luxiana.

Azriel had growled and was going to insist on making her spill the beans but Cassian pushed him, forcing him to release her so as not to hurt her. But he would never hurt her. He moved away a few steps, forced by Cassian, to whom he threw a dark look.

Rhysand leaned against the door with his hands in his pockets, trying to appear calmer and more confident than he was. “We just want to know who this man is.”

Luxiana still had her eyes narrowed as she looked at Rhysand. She crossed her arms. "I repeat myself, but what does that matter to you?"

Azriel almost jumped as he shouted, "You are not allowed to see another man." His eyes widened as he realized what he had just said, but he didn't calm down, his furious expression returning. He ignored the dark looks from his two brothers to focus on Luxiana. He just wanted that damn answer.

Luxiana flinched, surprised by his words before bursting out laughing. She didn't understand a word they were saying. "I beg your pardon?" she laughed.

Rhysand gritted his teeth as he closed his eyes, grabbing the bridge of his nose and then opening them to look Luxiana. "What he means by that," he tried to correct as he had an idea, "is that you're not allowed to see anyone while we were meeting the queens."

Luxiana laughed even harder "But what does that have to do with that?"

"It seems that you could have betrayed the secret of this meeting or its importance," Rhysand said, trying to sound wary of Luxiana, but he couldn't hide his bright eyes as he admired her. She was so beautiful when she laughed. "You could have defeated the purpose of the meeting."

Luxiana instantly calmed down, stopping laughing, widening her eyes. Everything cleared up in her head. That was why they were so angry. "I didn't betray the secret of this meeting. I didn't tell anyone about it." She assured, trying to sound as sincere as possible although her voice came out louder than expected, a little offended by these accusations.

Azriel narrowed his eyes, first surprised and then startled. "You're lying," he pointed out.

His two brothers turned a shocked look towards him before giving an equally startled one to Luxiana who had widened her eyes.

The blonde took a step back. How in the hell had he known she was lying? There was no way. She crossed her arms, putting on her angry expression. Either it was a bluff, or he thought she was so stupid or untrustworthy that they were convinced she had betrayed them. “No, I’m not lying!”

Azriel let out a guttural sound, clenching his fists. “You’re lying again.” His breathing was rapid, his eyes burning.

Luxiana was startled. How did he do that?? "How did you..."

"Did you tell anyone about this meeting?" Rhysand exclaimed in shock, standing up from the door, interrupting Luxiana. She had betrayed them? Wasn't that possible? Not his soulmate. He couldn't breathe anymore.

"Whose?" Cassian added as he took a step towards her with wide eyes still shocked. "Do you know how stupid this is?! Not only could you have jeopardized this meeting and ruined everything, but you could have put yourself in danger too!" His stomach gave him the impression to explode, someone could try to kidnap her to get information about this meeting.

"To whom did you tell about it?" Rhysand repeated as he moved closer to her.

Luxiana huffed, rolling her eyes. They were strong, the bastards. "I only told Kayden, and trust me, he's not going to tell anyone." She locked eyes with Azriel, "and that's the truth."

Just when she thought it would calm them down, their gazes flared with anger.

Cassian spun around, seething with anger, his wings contracting. He threw his hands up to the ceiling. "Who the fuck is that guy??" He yelled, turning back to his soulmate, his gaze filled with rage. "Take us to him!"

"Yes, do that," Azriel managed to say, shaking with anger. He closed his eyes, tilting his head left and right to stretch his neck. A smile emerged on his lips at the images of all the horrible things he was going to do to that Kayden.

Rhysand huffed, his heart breaking and his eyes burning. This man must have meant so much to his soulmate if she had decided to tell him everything. "Who is this man to you?" he asked, his voice intended to be firm but sounding almost as desperate as he was. He cleared his throat at Luxiana's frown, trying not to let it show. "I mean, can we trust him?"

Luxiana looked at them one by one, trying to see through them. Then she sighed. She was really going to answer them when normally she would have beaten people up for less. What were these faes doing to her? They were downright sexy. "He won't tell anyone, trust me. He's just my boss." She glanced at Azriel, making sure he didn't detect half the lie.

The latter narrowed his eyes.

“He’s my boss!” she repeated insistently, seeing Azriel’s expression. And it was true. Today, he was just her boss and nothing else.

“Is she telling the truth?” Cassian asked his brother.

Rhysand also looked at Azriel hopefully, praying for a positive response.

Azriel analyzed his soulmate then gradually relaxed. She was telling the truth. She seemed to be hiding something but this Kayden was really her boss. He nodded.

The three Illyrians relaxed with such power that they almost fainted. She was not intimate with that man. She did not love another man. They were not going to have to torture a stranger. They relaxed.

Cassian ran his hands through his hair, loosening his high bun a little. His muscles relaxed.

Rhysand took a deep breath and blew out all the air, closing his eyes fiercely.

Azriel's legs nearly gave up under the weight that left his shoulders. He ran his hands over his face.

Luxiana detailed their reactions one by one, finding them very strangely relieved. They didn't trust her to believe that she had betrayed them but they trusted her enough to truly believe that Kayden wouldn't say anything about their meeting with the queens. It was so strange. They seemed to be hiding something.

"Why did you tell him?" Azriel asked coldly, more calmly, hoping for an answer that would not displease him.

“Because he’s my boss, and when Feyre came back, I wasn’t at work that afternoon and…” She bit her tongue. Why was she telling them all this? She huffed through gritted teeth, speaking carefully as she eyed Azriel warily. “I just snapped. I burst into tears when I saw him after everything Feyre had told me and everything that had happened to her. He needed an explanation and I needed someone to talk to, that’s all.” She shrugged.

Azriel relaxed a little more, noticing her pure sincerity this time, relaxing his two brothers at the same time, making them understand that she was telling the truth. That said, it saddened them to know that their soulmate had not been able to count on them to comfort her at that time.

"But I promise you he won't tell anyone. He promised me and I believe him. He never revealed anything I told him and he doesn't talk to many people anyway." she assured with a truly apologetic look on her face.

They didn't care if this man could tell someone about this meeting, they had the book but what worried them was that someone could attack her for information. But her guilty look melted the hearts of the three Illyrians. She was so cute. She was beautiful.

Cassian then realized something, frowning suspiciously. "What kind of job do you have that requires you to look this good?" He pointed at her fully, gesturing at her dress and face. "Since you were apparently with your boss this afternoon, that means you were working, right?"

Luxiana's gaze began to shine with pride. She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms and pursing her lips to keep from laughing. "So you're implying that you find me beautiful?" She leaned forward towards Cassian, to closely examine his expression and make sure he wouldn't lie in his answer.

Cassian smirked, returning her smile. He raised his hand to her, brushing his fingertips over her plump cheek, shivering softly at the touch of her skin. She was so soft. He grabbed a strand of her hair that hung over her face and wrapped it around his finger, shivering once more. Her hair was so fucking silky. He tucked the strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not implying anything, I’m shouting it out loud, you’re beautiful, Luxiana.” Damn, his soulmate’s name sounded so right, spoken through his lips.

Luxiana's face changed completely. Her confidence slipped to surprise and then realization. She straightened up slowly, her cheeks and ears heating. "Oh," she said simply, looking away, unable to keep her eyes fixed on Cassian's intense pupils that made her chest tremble. She pursed her lips but to avoid cursing herself out loud this time. Since when did she blush that much at someone's compliment? This was new.

“And you’re so much cuter when you blush,” Rhysand added, eyeing her up tenderly.

Of course, the comment from the Lord of the Night Court only made her feel more uncomfortable, making her blush a little more. It wasn't supposed to please her so much to receive this kind of compliment, yet the fact that it came from these three faes tickled her all over. She glanced suspiciously at Rhysand, wondering why they were telling her all these nice things and why they weren't angry anymore when she had betrayed them anyway and had told someone about this meeting with the queens.

"Every expression she makes makes her cute anyway." Azriel added, crossing his arms and eyeing her up in the same way Rhys did. He also had Cassian's smirk. What he had just said was the truth, but he admitted he said it out loud to make her blush even more. Which happened to the delight of the three brothers.

Luxiana's heart was beating wildly in her chest and she could feel her entire face heating up. A sort of guttural noise of irritation escaped her as she glared at the three Illyrians who had caused her this discomfort. All three were looking at her with bright eyes and smiles and she was convinced it was because they were mocking her. "If that was all you had to say to me, then this discussion is over." She started almost running towards the exit but Rhysand gently grabbed her wrist as she tried to step around him.

“Wait, stay, we’re not done,” he pleaded softly. “You avoided the question again. We’d like an answer.”

Luxiana played the innocent card knowing full well what he was talking about. Those faes surely wouldn't like to know what she did for work. She shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about."

“Where do you work?” Azriel repeated harshly.

She glanced at him sideways, smiling innocently. "In a bar." And it was true. At least, in part. After all, the question hadn't been what she did for a living, but where she worked at, and her boss had set up in a bar. It was the perfect place to gather information, and people felt safe asking Kayden for favors there.

“Are you a waitress or something like that?” Cassian asked, staring at her.

“Something like that,” she replied in the same falsely innocent way.

And the three Illyrians said nothing more, settling for that answer, thinking she was a waitress or a bartender, at most. He didn't really like the idea that their soulmate worked with drunk men but it explained why she had to go out late last time and that she disappeared the whole night.

“I see,” Azriel breathed, looking down, then looking back up at Luxiana with a determined look. “You have to stop.”

“Excuse me?” Luxiana cried, turning to face Azriel.

"Az," Rhysand reprimanded in thought, giving him a menacing look.

Azriel gave him back his air, continuing the discussion in their heads. "You refuse to let her come with us until the threat of Hybern has passed, very well, I can understand, but there is no way she is going to be around this bar and especially this Kayden for a second longer. Imagine all the things that could happen to her. It's far too dangerous."

"For once I agree with Az," Cassian added through the same link with a serious face that didn't quite match him.

A silence had settled in front of Luxiana who was looking at the three Illyrians and who understood from their changing faces and the looks they threw at each other that they were having a secret conversation. It was quite impressive and much too secret for her. She didn't like it very much.

Rhysand huffed. "Kayden is her boss, you heard her, they are not intimate. We have nothing to fear on that side and she apparently is used to working in this bar, nothing ever happens to her, there is no reason for her to end up hurt now. And I prefer to have her here, far from the danger we represent for her than close to us. At least, until Hybern threatens us."

“But…” Cassian tried before being interrupted by Rhys.

"It's over. And you know I'm right."

Azriel growled and walked towards Luxiana. He pointed at her once he got in front of her. “Just watch yourself. Be careful.”

Luxiana narrowed her eyes. Those three were really weird. She nodded and then turned around, blowing her hair near Azriel's nose and sending a whiff of her vanilla perfume into his nostrils. He took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, his entire body tickling. What was this woman doing to him?

Luxiana stepped around Rhys to open the door. She rushed into the hall followed by Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel while everyone looked at them strangely, wondering what they could have said to each other.

“Well,” Tamlin wasted no time seeing his wife’s best friend return safely. He took Feyre’s hand. “We can go now.”

Feyre wanted to protest as Tamlin pulled her towards the front door but Luxiana slid lightly towards Tamlin, positioning herself on his other side and grabbing the high lord of the spring court free hand with both of hers. Tamlin froze, looking down at her with a wide gaze.

Everyone gave Luxiana a surprised and wide-eyed look.

The eyes of the three Illyrians were almost going to fall to the ground. What the hell was going on? One of Azriel's eyelids began to jump nervously, Cassian's wings contracted and relaxed in time with all the muscles in his body, including his heart which was now beating randomly, and Rhysand was at two fucking fingers away from releasing his power and destroying everything for five miles around.

The Lord of the Night Court was actually going to say something, or rather threaten Tamlin with destroying everything he had if he didn't move away from his soulmate, but Luxiana spoke.

"Okay let's go" she smiled with all her teeth at Tamlin. Her smile was fake without a doubt, it really disgusted her to have to smile at this idiot and have to touch him but she had promised herself when she made her decision that she would make an effort for Feyre and that was what she was doing.

“Excuse me?” Tamlin scream in response.

“Excuse me?” Rhysand repeated in a voice filled with uncertainty as he eyed Luxiana with fear.

“Huh?” Cassian cried at the same time, his face still paralyzed with surprise.

“I don’t think I heard you right,” Azriel spat coldly with a wild look.

Luxiana gave them another puzzled look. They were really weird. She shook her head. It didn't matter, it wasn't about them, it was about Feyre. She looked back at her, letting go of Tamlin and putting on a serious face. "I'm coming with you. I won't leave you alone anymore."

"What?" Feyre exclaimed, breathing quickly. She glanced at her two sisters who remained in the corner of the room. She would love for her best friend to join her, she even dreamed of it, but then who will protect her sisters.

Luxiana caught Feyre's gaze and understood. She gave her a reassuring smile. "I asked Kayden and Josher to watch over them. They'll be fine. I won't leave you alone anymore. Not with this war brewing."

Feyre's eyes filled with hope. "But you can't leave your whole life, everyone you love, for me."

Luxiana smiled softly. “You’re the most important one of it, Feyre. I owe you my life, you know that.”

The three Illyrians barely heard the conversation. What had happened between the two girls?

"That's not true, stop with that, it was..." she tried before being interrupted by her best friend who was laughing softly. Feyre stopped to stare at her. Then she smiled with all her teeth, her heart swelling with joy. Luxiana had already made her decision and she knew that nothing could ever change her best friend's mind. She then raised a bright look of hope and joy to Tamlin, even making her hand tremble in her future husband's.

“No way,” the blond said, eyeing the two women beside him. He loved Feyre, but he hated her best friend. She was a pain in the ass, and there was no way he was going to live with her twenty-four hours a day.

"No fucking way," Rhysand almost shouted at the same time from where he stood, still shocked.

Everyone glanced at her but Luxiana didn't calculate Rhysand's words, ignoring him completely, making the three Illyrians rage. They really couldn't believe it. Was their soulmate really asking their worst enemy to go live with him?????

“Please. I’ll make myself small, you won’t even know I’m here. Besides, I’ll just have to make sure Feyre is happy and okay. If she is, I’ll leave,” she pleaded in a way that surprised Tamlin.

She had never spoken to him so kindly. He narrowed his eyes as he studied her. Then he blew out a breath through gritted teeth, remembering that she had already crossed the wall and its defenses once to look for Feyre and that she could do it again if she wanted. He looked down at Feyre who implored him with her eyes and the joy shining in his wife's pupils got the better of him. He blew out one more time. "Good."

Feyre's eyes widened and she jumped in joy. She kissed Tamlin's cheek in thanks then jumped into her best friend's arms who gave her a hug. Their laughter echoed through the hall making Nesta roll her eyes.

“There’s no fucking world where that happens,” Azriel laughed falsely, almost like a psychopath.

The girls stopped laughing, splitting up to stare in confusion at the three Illyrians who were white as sheets and looked like they were living a real nightmare.

"But what's wrong with you? What's between you and Luxiana?" Lucien asked, looking at them strangely.

“Take his name out of your fucking mouth,” Cassian spat disdainfully.

"You're already very lucky that I haven't ripped off your skin and tongue yet, you dirty carrot, don't you dare get involved in this or approach Luxiana." Azriel shouted, barely breathing, as he moved wickedly closer to Lucien.

Tamlin growled, ready to lunge at them.

Rhysand held back his power with all his might from exploding so hard he felt like he was going to implode. He wanted to kill them. He swore he wanted to kill them all but there was so much more at stake right now. His soulmate couldn't be afraid of him, of them, he refused to. And as much as it killed him to admit it, in Tamlin's court, she would be safer than here and in fact even safer than near him. No one would attack her to get to Tamlin. It was a good compromise despite himself, even if it tore his chest in two to admit it. It even made him tremble with fear to know she was in Tamlin's hands, especially if he were to learn that she was his soulmate but Tamlin would not hurt her. Not as long as he loved Feyre. He took a deep breath and tried to explain all this to Cassian and Azriel minds, to reason with them and calm them down.

Which didn't work at all. Both of them turned to him with a mixture of rage and surprise. How could either one of them agree to accept this??

"Let's not put her in unnecessary danger," Rhysand added in thought.

“She’s our soulmate!” Cassian shouted inside his two brothers’ heads. “She’s bound to us, she will be in danger at some point.”

Rhysand gritted his teeth as he barely saw his two brothers eyeing him up as if they were looking at an alien. "You're right, so let's first make sure she's our soulmate with the Suriel and if she is, then we'll go get her even if she's at the Spring Court. In the meantime, we need to let her go with Feyre, we mustn't hurt her or scare her."

“She’s our soulmate too,” Azriel spat, glaring at him. “We have just as much right to decide as you do.”

"Maybe, but I'm still your high lord," he said coldly in a tone he hated to use because it wasn't him.

Azriel and Cassian clenched their teeth and fists. They knew Rhysand was partly right, but damn, knowing their soulmate was close to Lucien and in such a dangerous world when she was just a fragile human, it destroyed them. But reluctantly, they finally agreed.

“They’re a little weird,” Feyre whispered to her best friend, detailing their silent discussion.

"Yeah but they're hot," replied Luxiana in the same tone but the situation was so serious that -although the three Illyrians had heard- they didn't even smile, not even being able to rejoice in knowing that their soulmate found them sexy.

“Well then it’s decided,” Tamlin said, still looking out of the corner of his eye at the three brunettes. “We’re leaving.”

Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian would have liked to run to Luxiana to make her promise to be careful, not to approach Lucien or Tamlin, not to leave her castle, or to make Tamlin promise to take care of her but they couldn't. They couldn't let their enemy think that she was their soul mate.

But this game was over. They were going to go meet the Suriel to make sure she was their mate, to find out if it was possible. And if it was, then there would be no more time to lose. They would keep her with them, willingly or not.

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novankenn · 3 days ago

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What If...

Pyrrha was also under the sway of Salem Cinder and Pyrrha love each other (Pompeii) Jaune and Emerald are married (Topaz) Jaune and Emerald have a child (Jasmine Esmeralda Arc) Jaune and Emerald are on the run from Salem & Ozpin

Scene : The Arc Household

==> throrn2048 - Ren and Mercury fight over who's the best uncle and you can't convince me otherwise

==> A/N - yes I know... I still need to do the one that shows how Merc joined the ranks of Jasmine's Uncles. But I couldn't not do this one... 😁

Nora was nearly crushing Emerald in a hug, causing a small plastic tube to clatter on the floor. Jasmine being the inquisitive child she was, picked it up and looked at it.

"Mommy?" Jasmine asked her voice sounding even more whistly since loosing her other front tooth.

"Yes, sweetie?" Emerald gasped as she was finally released from Nora's grasp, due to the energetic bomber wanting to congratulate Jaune. Jaune of course was having none of that and soon Jasmine was watching Daddy racing about the house being chased by Auntie Nora.

"What's this?" she held up the plastic tube, showing a small oval window with two pink lines in it.

"Oh, um... that's a special tool used by mommies and daddies to see if you're going to have a baby brother or sister?"

"Oh." Jasmine replied, turning the window back towards herself, and cocking her head to the side as she studied the strange object. "So pink means sister?"

"Ah... maybe?" Emerald stammered out before yelling over her shoulder, "Honey... Assistance... PLEASE!"

"Call off Nora and I will!" Jaune shouted from the backyard.

"Not happening Daddy times two!" Nora cackled.

"Two?" Jasmine's eyes lit up brightly. "Two pink! Two sisters!"

"Ah... um... ah..."

"Help me!" Jaune wailed.

"You're mine Jaune-Jaune!" Nora cackled.

"Mommy? Two pink lines. Two sisters?"

"No, honey, you see this... tool let's mommies and daddies know if there is a baby on the way, not if it's a boy or girl." Emerald shot her daughter a hopeful look, that the baby questions were over for the day. She was wrong.

"So when will the baby be here?" Jasmine asked, pouting and scuffing her feet. "I thought the baby was here now."

"My back!" Jaune screamed from the back yard.

"Why did you think that, sweetie?" Emerald asked crouching down to look her ruby eyed , blond haired angel directly.

"Auntie Nora said you and daddy need alone time for the baby, so I looked and didn't fine one."

"Ah..." Emerald tried to think of a way out of this when Mercury and Ren came walking in through the front door of the modern two story home. Arguing about who was the better uncle. "Hey, sweets?"

"Yes, mommy?"

"Ask Uncle Ren and Uncle Mercury about babies. I bet they're so smart then can answer all your questions!"

"They is smart, but smarter than you? I though you and daddy were the smartest?"

"We are, but this a test, to see if they are as smart as mommy and daddy. Okay?"

"Okay!" Jasmine chirped, before turning about and bouncing her way into the kitchen area, as that was where her uncles' voice were coming from.

"Emerald stood up, smoothed her pants out, smiled, and then marched out into the back yard to save her husband, and broach the subject of how to tell their darling daughter about babies.

In the kitchen/dining room, Ren and Mercury had piled several shopping bags, upon the table and pulling various products from inside said bags.

"A herb garden? You serious dude?" mercury asked, a little stunned at Ren's choice of present. "She's five, what in the H-E-Double Hockey Sticks would she want with a garden?"

"It's a soothing and intellectual hobby." Ren defended his choice. "It's never too late to expand your mind."

"Well, it has nothing what I got her!" Mercury said with a smirk while pulling out the latest wrestling based console game. "Mega-Super-Ultimate Rumble Huntresses! She loved wrestling, so she's going to love me! So there!"

"Did you check the ESRB Rating?" Ren asked while taking the game case from Mercury's hands.

"The what?"

"Rated M for Mature." Ren responded. "This is unsuitable for someone of Jasmine's age!"

"Seriously? Rated M? It's a wrestling game!"

"Scantily spandex clad huntresses with... jiggle physics."

"Oh... that makes sense."

"Uncie Ren? Uncie Mercury?" came the small innocent voice of the little angel the pair of men would do anything for.

"Hey rug-rat." Merc greeted Jasmine, moving around the table and helping the bundle of innocence into a chair.

"Hi, pumpkin." Ren greeted Jasmine while setting the herb garden down onto of the video game to hide the cover from Jasmine's view.

"I have a question, and mommy said you and Uncie Mercury would answer it." Jasmine happily informed her two uncles.

"We'll answer any questions you have munch-kin." Mercury informed the small girl.

"Uncle Mercury is right. So what do you want to ask?" Ren inquired.

"Mommy said," Jasmine proceeds to put the positive pregnancy test on the table. "this means there's a baby, but that two pink lines don't mean two sisters. Is she telling the truth?"

"You're mommy is telling the truth sweetie." Ren answered. "This is a special test that tells mommies and daddies if there is a baby coming."

"Oh," Jasmine pouted. "I want two sisters."

"Well the baby could be babies." Mercury stepped into the conversation in an attempt cheer up the little angel. "That only says a baby is coming, not how many, so you could very well have two sisters."

"Yes!" Jasmine cheered, in her adorable way< "So when?"

"When, what sweetie?" Ren asked, starting to feel as if Emerald threw Mercury under the bus.

"When will the baby get here?" A second after stating that question, her eyes grew bright with excitement. "Tomorrow?"

"Ah, sorry munch-kin not tomorrow."

"Can we go pick the baby up?" Jasmine asked before Ren could say anything additional to Mercury's answer. "There's baby stores in the mall, is that were we go?"

"No, those stores don't sell babies, they sell items for babies."

"So when then?" Jasmine once again started to pout.

"Nine months." Mercury replied, also coming to the conclusion that Em had purposefully submarined him and Ren.

"Why so long? Is it coming in the mail?"

"Ah, no... um..." Ren looked to Mercury, with a very "How do we deal with this?" look.

"Jas?" Mercury stepped in, a smirk on his face. "Do you remember those pictures of your Dad printed off of your Mom? The ones in your special photo album?"

"Yes? Why?"

"Do you remember anything funny about how you mom looked in those pictures?"

"Mom was FAT!" Jasmine exclaimed.

"Yep!" Mercury had to suppress his laughter. A sideways glance at Ren told the former assassin that Ren was in the same boat. "That was you making Mommy fat."

"Me?" Jasmine's eyes growing wide with curiosity.

"Yes," Ren interjected deciding to just finally rip the band-aide off. "Those pictures when you mom was... fat, are also of you, growing inside your mom's belly."

"I was in mommy's belly?"

"Yep, that's were babies, are kept until it's time to... ah..." Mercury paused, not sure how to tactfully mention birth.

"And they hide there for nine months before Mommies go to a special place to... have them?" Ren ended up turning his statement of fact in a question.

"Any other questions rug-rat?" Mercury asked, making a mental note to have a chat with the Arc parents.

"Yes, um..."

"Just ask the sweetie." Ren commented.

"How does the baby get in a mommy's belly? Did she eat them? How do the babies get out? Was it Auntie Saphron's belly, or Auntie Terra's belly that Adrian made fat?"

Mercury and Ren looked at each other, the competition on who was the better Uncle, was put on the backburner through mutual agreement, as they decided the best course of action in this situation was a tactical retreat.

"Emerald, you're NEEDED in the kitchen!" Mercury and Ren called out in unison. "Like NOW!"

"Kind of busy!" Emerald voice drifted into the house from the backyard. "Can you guys handle it just for a little... longer? Please?"

Uncie Ren? Uncie Mercury?" Jasmine looked up at the pair, a hardened assassin and a veteran huntsman, with a pleading look, filled with questions.

"Ah... how about we go for ice-cream?" Ren offered.

"Then the arcade?" Mercury asked.

"Yes!" Jasmine cheered. "You the bestest uncies ever in then whole world!"

#rwby #rwby what if #jaune arc #emerald sustrai #emerald sustrai x jaune arc #topaz #jasmine esmeralda arc - oc daughter #lie ren #nora valkyrie #mercury black

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recurring-polynya · 3 days ago

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In one of my other fanfics, I made an allusion to a story from Rukia and Renji's youth where she got nervous about the size of her chest and made Renji give an opinion on the matter. I was always very charmed by the idea of it, and earlier this week, I felt like writing it, so I did. Originally, I didn't intend to post it, because it skirts a little close to underage sex stuff, but a) they're immortal ghosts and they live on their own and become child soldiers like two years later, and b) it's really nothing. Teens, even human teens, can see a boob. It's fine. Don't read it if it bothers you. Also, if this bears resemblance to multiple stories I have written in the past, it's because I think Rukia is just like that. This will probably not be the last one, either.

Rated a hearty PG-13 for cussing, partial nudity, and some adolescent sexual awakening

| read on ao3 |

"Renji," said Rukia. "I need your opinion on something."

Renji had been breaking up sticks to dry out for firewood around the backside of the broken-down squat he and the gang had been trying to get into shape for their winter digs. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. "My opinion?" he grumbled. "Is everyone else off somewhere?" It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't heard anyone else's voice in a while.

"Well, yes," Rukia mumbled. "They went into the woods to try and set some traps and maybe do some foraging. But I'm not asking because you're the only one around. I was waiting to ask you until everyone was busy."

That got Renji's attention. This was not the first time Rukia had cornered him like this. He assumed she did this to the other guys, too, but he didn't actually know for certain. Renji tossed the stick in his hand back onto the pile and turned to give Rukia his full attention. She was standing in a funny way, her arms crossed awkwardly over her chest. She looked almost like she was cold, except that it was early September and still sweltering.

"What's up?" he asked.

"You're going to wonder why I am asking you this," she said, her eyes fixed somewhere off to one side, "and it's because I'm trusting you not to be weird about it. Everyone else would try, but then they would be weird about it, and I know you won't be."

Renji continued to regard her silently. She wasn't asking anything particular of him, just stating what she expected. Renji decided he liked the idea of being a guy who wasn't weird about stuff, and decided he would do his best to uphold that trust. He was also prepared for whatever she was going to say next to be spectacularly weird. This was Rukia, after all.

"Also," she said, "you go around with your shirt off all the time. You're the least self-conscious person I know about. You know. Body stuff."

An alarm signal went zinging through Renji's nervous system. It was true that he wasn't all that concerned about bodies, his own or other people's. A long time ago, he'd had to make a decision about Rukia's body, which he sometimes had to touch and slept next to at night and had seen naked more than a few times. She'd become a little secretive about that recently, and he'd taken care to respect that decision and avert his eyes when he needed to and made sure all the other guys did too. The decision he had made was that Rukia's body was exactly like Fujimaru's and Mameji's and Kosaburou's, which was to say, it was a thing that existed but was none of his business, unless say, she needed an injury patched up or something like that.

"Something wrong?" he asked gruffly.

"Not-- well, I don't know. That's what--that's what the opinion is for."

Renji rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm really not sure I'm the right person to ask. I know the old herb lady is pretty deep in her own brain most the time, but if you catch her on a good day, she knows a lot of stuff about--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Renji, I just want to know if my boobs are good or not!"

Renji stared at her. Rukia's face was beet red now.

"Uh…what?"

Rukia made a little huffing noise. "Look. I know you know I've been binding my chest for a while now."

Renji shrugged noncommittally. Rukia hadn't been particularly shy about letting them see her in her chest wrap. A lot of girls in Inuzuri did. Usually, it was a safety measure.

"I think they might be done growing. I'm worried they're…well, they're kinda small."

Renji ran his fingers through his hair and tried not to look at her. "Seems like that would make them easier to bind, no?"

"Well…yes, that's true."

"It's not like it's something you can control. You shouldn't worry about it."

"I just don't know! Maybe they're fine actually! I'm the only one who gets to see them and I think I may have gotten too wrapped around my own axle about it and I just wanted a second opinion, okay?"

Renji sighed. "Okay. Sure. If it'll make you feel better."

Rukia took a deep breath and then lowered her arms. Nervously, she tugged at her yukata below the sash to get it adjusted properly.

There was now the slightest curve in the fabric between her shoulders and her waist. Renji wasn't sure he even would have noticed it if she were just some girl he saw on the street. But that curve was there, and it was doing something weird to the pit of his stomach.

Cleavage was no rare sight in Inuzuri. Both in the streets and the gambling halls, plenty of women kept theirs on display for, uh, business reasons. Renji could tell the difference between the more and less attractive sets, but he'd never been quite as excited by the prospect of a hearty set of tits as some of his peers. He didn't think this constituted any kind of moral high ground. The fact was, he was just mostly into dudes. A pair of well-muscled forearms or a particularly sharp jawline was usually more likely to do him in. But there was something about that mysterious curve, the suggestion of tits, of Rukia's tits…

"They look fine to me," he announced.

Rukia looked down at them and frowned thoughtfully.

A strange, slightly foreign thought, possibly a stray memory from his human life, popped into Renji's brain. "Isn't there even--like with fancy kimono--aren't you supposed to make a smooth profile? Maybe you've just got a fancy-lady figure."

Some of the color had receded from Rukia's cheeks. "Why do you always know these things? Also--fat lot of good that's going to do me."

Renji shrugged. "What kinda good were you hoping they were gonna do you, anyway? I mean, you wouldn't wanna-- that is--" He grimaced, thinking about business reasons again.

"I might like to kiss someone, someday!" Rukia declared, cheeks going hot once more. "I'd like…to be worth looking at. You're going to be ten feet tall and have shoulders for days and you've already got that hair, so I realize that's something you've probably never once thought about."

Renji stared at her uncomprehendingly. "You think I'm good-looking?"

Rukia seemed to be staring at something over her shoulder. "You're certainly striking."

Renji had honestly never thought about himself in that way before. Mostly, he thought he'd stuck out in a way that was mostly pretty inconvenient, given their skulking and pickpocketing lifestyle.

"You have an interesting voice," he pointed out, drawing the words out as he tried to think of more things a theoretical person who was not him might find attractive about Rukia. "And you're good at a lot of things." She also had a pretty face, maybe the prettiest face he'd ever seen in Inuzuri, with big blue eyes that you could just fall into. He couldn't say all that shit, though. It would just embarrass both of them, plus she would think he was lying to make her feel better. He wasn't. It wasn't even, like, his opinion, it was just the objective truth.

Rukia huffed again, clearly unsatisfied.

Renji threw up his arms. "They're under your clothes! Wouldn't you rather kiss someone who likes you because you're cool, rather than because you've got a nice pair of knockers? Which isn't even to say they aren't nice! You just can't tell! They could be great under there. That's it's own kind of allure. The-- the, uh, mystery." He regretted saying it the moment it was out of his mouth. This always happened with Rukia, though. He was always telling on himself.

Rukia stared at him for a long moment. Then she hooked her finger over the closure of her yukata and pulled it away, staring down into the depths.

"Are we done?" Renji asked, trying to sound bored and failing when his voice wavered on the last word.

Rukia looked back up at him. "You've never even see a naked girl-tit, have you, Abarai?"

Renji wrinkled his nose. "Not…not really, no. Not…head-on."

Rukia set her jaw. "Okay. We're doing this."

"What--" stammered Renji. "What are we doing? We don't need to--"

Rukia pulled her yukata wide and shimmied her shoulders loose.

Renji swallowed thickly.

He had changed his mind. He did, in fact, like girls. Fuck, did he like girls.

Rukia's breasts were small, that was just a fact. They were also gorgeous. Smooth and straight on top, ending in a sharp, rosy nipple. They curved gently on the underside back to where they rejoined her body, like two ripe, blushing pears. Renji could imagine cupping one in his hand, the way it would fit in his palm perfectly. He squeezed his hands into fists, reminding himself that they were dirty and covered in small bits of bark from breaking the sticks. He absolutely could not reach out and touch them, even beyond the possibility that Rukia would murder him if he did (would she, though? He wondered). It turned out this was a mistake, because now he was thinking about kissing Rukia's breasts, about the way they would taste, how he could take nearly the whole of one in his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut. "Fuck, Rukia, put your shirt back on!"

"They can't be that bad," Rukia grumbled.

"They're not, they're really good! Surprisingly good! You should save them for whoever it is you want to kiss! Please put your shirt back on!"

"You're so weird," Rukia laughed, and he was glad to hear the ring of relief in her voice.

There was a long pause with a few rustles of fabric being adjusted. Renji chanced to unsqueeze one eye to see if she was dressed again. He was just in time to see her cross the second side of her yukata over the first, catching a last glimpse of a pretty little tit before the fabric settled over it. A secret once again, but no longer a mystery. Fuck.

"You can open your eyes now, you big baby," Rukia announced, reknotting her sash. Evidently she hadn't noticed him peeking. She wasn't even blushing anymore. "Thank you."

"I don't know why you asked me," Renji mumbled. "You know I'm no good at being reassuring and shit like that."

"I didn't want you to be reassuring," she replied, looking up and favoring him with a brilliant smile. "I wanted you to be honest. Which…clearly you were. I don't know what else that could possibly have been."

"Shut up," said Renji.

Rukia snorted softly. "Do you wanna go find the others and fix their snares for them? I'm sure they've set them up wrong."

"I wanna finish dealing with these sticks first," Renji replied. It took his entire strength of will to unclench his hands and pick up a stick, a long, heavy one. He winced when it broke much more easily than he had expected it to. The sound of it was deafening.

"I can help," Rukia said cheerfully, picking up another stick and snapping the side branches off it expertly, humming while she worked.

Renji picked up another stick, and suddenly wished the pile was bigger than it actually was.

"Hey, Renji?"

"What now?"

"They really are--?"

"Yes. Don't ask me again."

Rukia gave a little chuckle, and so softly that he almost didn't hear it, added, "Huh. Who knew?"

#my writing #renruki #rukia kuchiki #renji abarai #the real reason i posted this is that i got tired of waffling about it #hopefully now i can get back to writing the fanfic i am *supposed* to be working on :P

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weewoodiaz · 2 days ago

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kisscam

(buddie) (post 8x06) 960 words ao3 here fully inspired by this post by @clytemnestraaa!

Buck is just sitting back down with two fresh beers in his hands when the jumbotron changes from an ad for the newest Hildy home security to a set of cartoony pursed lips.

"Pucker up!" blares an old-timey voice from the speakers as the cameras start to pan around the arena.

Buck passes Eddie one of the beers (a truly gross Double IPA) and grins up at the screen, which is currently displaying an elderly couple hamming up a peck and beaming at each other as the crowd awwwws. He's glad to get to put the tickets to use, and he feels absolutely no way at all about the fact that he ended up bringing Eddie, just like Tommy said he would. Realistically, who else would it have been? At least Eddie likes basketball— he's been on the edge of his seat the whole game, whooping loudly and jeering at the refs along with everyone else. Buck could honestly take it or leave it, but Eddie's having fun, flushed and happy in a way that makes Buck's stomach hurt.

The crowd around them starts to buzz, and Buck realizes that the kisscam has made it to their section. The people sitting two rows below them are shaking their heads animatedly on camera, and he's close enough to hear the dismayed "That's my brother" from one of them.

The cameraman pans up to the next row and catches a man and woman on the end. The crowd cheers louder after the first miss, but this pair are waving it off too, the woman covering her face with her hands as she cries,

"No! He's my dad!" as he ruffles her hair good-naturedly. Buck snorts— the man is visibly 30 years older than her. The camera is still trained on them as the crowd gets even louder, everyone tuned into the Jumbotron and pointing when they find the row in the stands. Buck can see the cameraman now, his head sticking up to scan the crowd properly to try and get at least one kiss in before the next quarter starts. The screen changes as the camera pans up again, and this time it's in their row— they're not centered in it, but they're visible on the left side. Buck laughs as everyone in the row does a double take, looking at the person next to them as the chants to

"Kiss! Kiss!" get louder and louder, thrumming through the floor and Buck's chest as people cheer and stomp their feet.

The woman on his left makes eye contact with him and grins sheepishly, color already high in her cheeks as he shrugs and laughs. There's a brief pang, but hey, to get over you gotta get under, right, and she's cute enough. It doesn't quite convince him. He turns to Eddie, ready to make some joke about giving the people what they want, to find him already looking at him, grinning widely, cheeks pink and eyes sparkling. His stomach bottoms out even before Eddie throws his hands out wide and smacks them onto Buck's face seconds before his lips follow.

Buck's breath stutters. Distantly, the crowd roars. Distantly, the people around them are clapping, laughing, jeering good-naturedly. Distantly, Eddie's lips are pressed to his for a moment— soft, a little chapped. He tastes like the beer Buck just handed him. Buck's entire face is on fire. His hands are slack in his lap, and he doesn't think he moves at all.

With a disorienting brightness time speeds back up and Eddie is back in his seat again, jostling his shoulder as he pulls him into a one-sided hug. Buck registers the blank look on his face on the Jumbotron and tries to plaster a sunny grin to match Eddie's before the camera cuts out and the Lakers logo comes back on screen. He gets a well-meaning pat on the shoulder from the people around him, the woman smiling widely at him with some relief, tapping her beer to his, and Eddie's arm is still slung around his neck as he takes a long sip from his own, attention already back on the game.

Buck's beer sits untouched through this quarter and the next. He thinks the Lakers win. Eddie lets go of him at some point, jumping to his feet to yell at the ref. His ears ring as his heart thumps a low steady beat, and he feels something tilt and shift. He doesn't move again until Eddie touches his shoulder, and he realizes he's standing over him, along with everyone else in their section, picking up jackets and getting ready to file out up the stairs. He smiles blithely and grabs the beer so he can dump it down a sink. He thinks Eddie's expression sticks for a second, something in his eyes not quite matching his easy grin, but he looks away before he can be sure. He's not sure what's on his own face, and he's not as good at hiding it. He nods along to Eddie's chatter about the game, adding in a throwaway comment here and there so he's not too obviously silent.

They're halfway home, at least one of them sitting contentedly, when Buck glances over his shoulder to merge and sees Eddie's face illuminated by the yellow slant of a streetlight. In a moment he's categorized it— hair eyes lips— chapped— soft— and then he's in the right lane and staring holes through the exit sign to Eddie's house. Eddie leaves the door open behind him, and Buck is still sitting in the car. His lips are still tingling. He has time to register a distant fuck bouncing around in his mind before Eddie's head pokes out around the frame and he follows him inside, helplessly. Fuck.

#911 #buddie #i started this last week but i had to finish it because now they're both in super hell #twin homes.com triggered breakdowns #and this feels too upbeat for the occasion #fic

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sweetimpurity · 1 day ago

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I think I'll keep you:

c.ai bot drop

a/n (please read!): Hiya! I've been working on these bots for a little while, trying to make them stick to the story I've been writing all year. But it is an ai bot so I have no control over what it says or suggests past the greeting. It might not stick to the story exactly. If there's anything you think could be improved or information you think the bots should have about the plot, just message and let me know! I hope you guys have fun kiss kiss!! 😘🍬

These can all be found on my profile: sweetimpurity 💓

I think I'll keep you

Miguel has no interest in a relationship. He just saw you one day and then your tutoring hours posted on the cork board. He knew he had to have you for one night. You were surprised when the text came in from him, him of all people, asking for a session. But he quickly got you on your knees and then in his bed. This one night would turn into much more.

“Oh, god…” You pant and whine, your head leaning to the side to rest on his head.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good…” He curses through a heavy breath against your neck. A high pitched squeal escapes your throat as your back arches against his chest and it hits you hard and fast. Your squeals turn into cries of his name, how good he feels.

He doesn't know what's come over him. He doesn't form attachments like this. But there's something about you that makes him want to bring you pleasure over and over again.

You’re babbling and thrashing in his arms and Miguel smiles, finally getting what he wants. Hearing your sweet innocent voice whining out the dirtiest things. You're a soft warm mess as he chases his own release.

He holds you tightly against him as you both stop moving and start panting to catch your breath. You’re glad he’s still holding you because if he let go, you’d surely face plant into the mattress. Your head rests back on his shoulder and he places small kisses on your skin as he snuggles his face into the crook of your neck, breathing deep and sighing out in relief.

“Will you be mine?” He asks softly and kisses your cheek. “Mine only…” He whispers and his gaze meets yours when you lift your head, turning it so you can look in his eyes. His finger strokes your cheek softly and it’s like he’s looking at the sun. He can try to close his eyes but the memory of you will always be seared into his mind.

“I want to be yours…” You whisper and watch his eyes as they light up a bit, a grin playing on his reddened lips. “Good. I think I’ll keep you…” He smiles and holds your jaw in his hand, kissing your lips once more...

I think I'll keep you 2

You've been gone only three days and he's losing his mind. Everything was so good before you decided to go home for the weekend. Miguel had you every night he wanted, every morning too. Peter's party was supposed to be a distraction but it turned into a disaster. A drunken Dana all over him and he just wants to make her hate him if only to leave him alone. He doesn't want her. He wants you back to campus.

Not hearing from you for three days is making his head spin, and he can’t help but picture you with some guy that’s not him. He throws Dana on the bed, pulling her by the ankles and grabbing her face. Could she handle him if she tried? The answer is no.

“You really like to get on my nerves, don’t you?” He seethes. But even Dana loves the attention.

Ding!

His red hot rage is interrupted by his phone going off. His face softens and his heart skips a beat just like it did when you said you’d be his. He can’t control that feeling. Miguel picks up his phone, seeing your name pop up and his eyes dart around the screen reading it.

{{user}}: “Came back early :)”

“Coming now” He texts right back.

He sighs audibly, a mix of relief and frustration at the same time. “What is it?” Dana whines, sprawled out on his bed, getting her loud perfume all over his sheets where the smell of you should be. “Get out.” He demands, stepping back and going to put on his jacket again to go. “What?! Are you serious?” She scoffs, sitting up on his bed.

"Yes! GET OUT!!" He shouts, making her flinch. She scurries off, out of his dorm fighting back tears. He pulls the jacket on, pushing out of his room and marching his way over to your dorm.

I think I'll keep you 3

Miguel pushes off the wall, going to the library door and seeing you’re finally alone. His heart thumps in his chest. Clenching his swollen bruised hand in his pocket. He sighs and forces himself to walk inside.

You suddenly look up. Stopping him in his tracks. And it’s like he feels like he’s doing something wrong. He told you, you were never supposed to happen for him. That what happened between you for an entire month was a mistake. To not let your messy feelings ruin everything. It’s been four days. Not a call, not a text. Nothing. And now he’s here. You look away first. Back down to your laptop to continue typing. And he continues walking, stopping at the edge of the table across from you.

“I need to talk to you.” He speaks, towering over the table. Thinking back to all those moments it’s like none of that ever mattered because it didn’t matter to him. How can you trust him again when he treated you like he wanted you and then told you, you were never supposed to happen. And you gave him your body, your heart everyday for a month already.

“I’m busy right now.” You say softly, keeping your eyes locked on your laptop screen. While this time away from him has been hell and you’ve been heartbroken over this, he’s also been a total dick.

He’s been trying all week to find you. To talk to you. Trying to find sneaky ways so that he doesn't have to beg for your attention. He wants things back the way they were. He wants you back in his bed. He doesn’t know what he feels.

He walks around the table. You don’t look up, not even sparing him a glance. Glaring at your laptop screen and seeing his movement in your peripherals. He silently walks to the seat right next to you. Slipping down into it to sit beside you. His hands shoved back into his pockets.

"{{user}}… hey...” He says gently, trying to get your attention. Turning in his chair slightly to face you more. He can see your anger, he can feel it too.

“I’m not talking to you.” You say without looking at him.

“Well I’m talking to you…”

I think I'll keep you 4

“...his hand, he’s been having swelling and bruising for a few days now…” You explain kindly to the receptionist once you’re both in the waiting room, standing at the front desk. Miguel standing a bit like a lost puppy behind you, listening to you talk to the receptionist there.

“Alright, the doctor can take a look once she’s done with another patient. If you can just fill out these forms and have a seat, it should be about 30 minutes.” She smiles and hands you a clipboard and a pen.

“Thank you. And could he please get some ice or something?” You smile and ask. The woman nods politely and going to grab an ice pack from the other room. You both start walking over to the waiting room area, looking over the form in your hands. Taking a seat by the fish tank and settling in to wait a little while. Miguel sits right beside you, running the good hand through his dampened hair from the rain. He glances down at the form in your lap. Then up at the side of your face. Wanting to reach out and touch your skin. Kiss your cheek. Remembering what it feels like to melt into your arms. Thinking of all the ways he can beg for, earn your forgiveness. Just as he’s about to speak-

“Here you go…” The receptionist is there, an ice pack outstretched for him to take, breaking him out of his thoughts. He forces a smile, taking the ice pack and setting it over his hand. “Thank you.” He smiles gently. Watching the woman walk away.

He feels like shit. Feels so bad for being so closed off and such a jerk to you about all of this. This past month hasn't been meaningless like he told you in the heat of the moment. It's meant something he just doesn't know how to say it. It's hard for him to put his feelings into words. For you it seems so easy, why can't he just be like you?

He looks back, watching you write down his name on the form. Thinking he can probably do this himself. Before he can interrupt you’re asking him for the information on the form.

I think I'll keep you 5

When the athletic door swings from someone else leaving, he catches a glimpse of you through the opening. The bright lights from outside assault his eyes as the door swings again. Seeing you for just a moment. Just a split second. Talking with Peter against the fence. He stops. What is he walking into? What’s about to change? You’re gonna be there right when he goes through that door. He stands in the dim concrete tunnel, feeling his heart race. He doesn’t like this feeling. This is the loss of control.

“Miguel!” Peter smiles, making you turn to look back. And there he is, walking out the door. You want to just run into his arms and tell him how great he was. Even though he didn't get to play he still coached very well and played his part in the victory. But Peter is talkative and gets in there before you can. And you don't really want to interrupt when he's talking with his friends. Since this is the first time you've been around his friends with him.

“We’re gonna get drinks, you have to come” Peter says, ushering Miguel over to where you’re standing. “This is {{user}}… {{user}} this is Miguel”

“Yeah we know each other.” Miguel says immediately. Not a hint of a smile on his face. He’s annoyed with Peter. Annoyed that it’s not a known thing. He wants it to be known that you two are an item. Or… that there’s something going on… he’s not even sure of at the moment. At least that Peter should know to back off. “Oh cool, so drinks?” Peter asks you.

Miguel’s a little astonished with how easily Peter just brushed that off. Eyes flicking between you two and hoping to god you don’t accept the drink invite. But he bites his tongue. Friends. Really good… friends.

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biblical-chronicles · 2 days ago

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Breaking the script

___________________________________________________

where the reader is cast in a High Flying Birds music video but the line between acting and reality becomes quite blurry.

(Right you lot, this one’s for the grown-ups, yeah? But don’t worry it's all done proper classy, if you know what I mean)

___________________________________________________

It had been a rough few weeks. The gigs weren’t coming as often as you’d hoped, and money was running tighter than ever. You sat on the edge of your flat’s bed, chewing on your lip as you dialed your agent.

"Look," you started after a few pleasantries. "I’m proper brassic this month. Is there anything going? Backup vocals? A commercial? I’ll do a bloody jingle for washing-up liquid at this rate.”

Your agent, a patient but perpetually stressed woman named Mandy, hummed on the other end. “I’ll see what I can dig up. Might be a bit of a wait, but hold tight.”

“Ta, Mandy,” you said, hoping she could hear the gratitude in your voice. You needed this break, even if it was just enough to get you through another month.

A few days later, your phone buzzed while you were out grabbing a coffee. You nearly spilled it fumbling to answer.

“Alright,” Mandy said. “I’ve got something for you. It’s a music video job. Couple of auditions to send in, but I think you’ve got a decent shot since you've done some work before.”

“A music video?” you asked, trying not to sound too desperate. “Who’s it for?”

There was a slight pause on the line before Mandy said, “Noel Gallagher’s High Flying Birds.”

You nearly dropped your coffee. “You’re joking.”

“Dead serious. It’s for the next single, big budget production, too.”

Heart pounding, you tried to keep your voice steady. “What’s the role?”

“Well, the brief’s a bit vague,” Mandy admitted. “Could be anything from a featured extra to a lead. You’ll have to wait and see if you get it. Just send over the tapes as soon as you can.”

When the call ended, you slumped into your chair, trying to wrap your head around it. A potential job with Noel Gallagher? You quickly gathered your thoughts and got to work recording the audition tapes, pouring everything you had into them.

A week later, Mandy called back. “Good news—you got it. And not just any role, love. You’re the lead.”

The words barely registered at first. “The… lead?”

“Yup. Looks like you’ll be playing opposite Noel himself.”

You felt a mix of excitement and sheer panic. “What’s the script like?”

“It’s a bit abstract,” Mandy explained. “But, uh… there’s a kissing scene.”

Your stomach flipped. “Right,” you said faintly.

“You’ll be fine,” Mandy reassured you. “Just keep it professional, yeah? No fangirling.”

The next few days were a blur of preparation. When you finally got the script, your nerves kicked into overdrive. The kissing scene was there, clear as day. You tried not to dwell on it—after all, it was just acting, but the thought of being that close to Noel made your heart race.

The day of the shoot arrived in a haze of nerves and excitement. You were ushered into hair and makeup the moment you arrived on set. The stylists worked quickly, crafting a look that was sort of timeless and fit the aesthetic of the project.

“As you already know you’re playing opposite Noel,” a production assistant had casually mentioned as she handed you the day’s schedule. “He’s already in the building. Shouldn’t be long now.”

Your heart skipped a beat, not only meeting, but also working with him still felt quite surreal.

Once your look was finished, they led you to a side room where Noel was waiting. As you entered, he was perched on the arm of a chair, one foot on the floor, flipping through the script like he couldn’t care less. When he looked up, his sharp blue eyes met yours, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe.

“Ah, so you’re the one they’ve stuck me with,” he said, standing and tucking the script under his arm. His voice as dry and deadpan as you’d imagined.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you said, sticking out your hand.

“Noel,” he said simply, shaking it with a firm grip. He gave you a once-over—not in a rude way, but with a hint of curiousity. “Right then, you reckon you’re ready for this?”

You laughed nervously. “I hope so.”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small smirk. “Well, no pressure or owt. Just me name on the line if you’re shite.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond until you caught the playful glint in his eye. “No pressure for you either, right? Only the whole world watching if you’re shite.”

He chuckled, a low, genuine sound. “Fair play.”

Just then, one of the assistants poked their head in to tell you both that you had an hour or so before filming started. “Right, well,” Noel said once they were gone, “might as well sit down. We’re supposed to be in love or summat, so better get on.”

You hesitated. “Are you sure? I don’t want to bother you.”

He waved you off. “You’ll be less of a bother here than legging it round the place. Sit.”

You sat beside him on the couch, careful to leave a bit of space, but he leaned back casually, his knee brushing yours. He reached into his pocket, pulling out some chuddy. “You want one?”

“Uh, sure.” You took the piece he offered, unwrapping it while he popped one in his mouth.

Silence settled between you for a moment as you fiddled nervously with the wrapper in your hands. Noel was the one to break it. “So, you’re from round here, then?”

“Yeah,” you replied with a nod. “Grew up near Burnage.”

He raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips. “Ah, so you’re proper local, then. That’s more like it.”

You chuckled, shrugging. “Yeah, nothing fancy. Just tried to keep my head down and graft, you know?”

He nodded, his grin softening. “Well, seems like it’s paying off now.”

The conversation flowed easily from there. He asked about your life then music, your influences, what got you into it in the first place. His questions weren’t just polite—they seemed genuinely curious. On top of that, he had this way of looking at you when you spoke, like he was actually listening, not just waiting for his turn to talk. It made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t expected.

At one point, you cracked a joke about struggling through a particularly bad gig, and when you gestured, your hand brushed his arm. He didn’t move away, and instead, his eyes lingered on yours for a fraction longer than necessary.

“You’ve got your head screwed on right for a youngin,” he said after a while, nodding slightly. “Don’t see that much in this business.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “That means a lot coming from you.”

He shrugged, but his eyes softened. “Don’t let it go to your head, though.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you quipped, smiling.

He chuckled, and the corner of his mouth twitched into that smirk again. The kind of smirk that could make anyone weak at the knees. Before either of you could say more, there was a knock at the door.

“Right,” called the assistant. “Time to head to set.”

The first scenes were easier than you’d expected—walking through some streets, laughing together, doing some hand holding here and there. The chemistry between you and Noel came quite naturally, he seemed relaxed, even playful at times.

By the time you reached the final scene—set in the car—you were buzzing with a mix of excitement and nerves.

You slid into the passenger seat while Noel climbed into the driver’s side. He adjusted the mirror, glancing at you sideways with a faint grin. “You reckon this’ll win us a BAFTA?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Doubt it, but maybe we’ll get a free drink at the afterparty.”

“Oh, well then, worth the hassle,” he said dryly. After a beat, he added, “You’ve done good today, y’know.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard. “Ta” you said, smiling shyly. “I’ve really enjoyed it.”

He turned his head toward you fully, his eyes catching yours. “Yeah? Not bad spending the day with an old git like me?”

“You’re not that old,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. “And anyway, you’ve still got your charm.”

His lips twitched into a smirk, but before he could respond, the crew interrupted with final instructions. “Alright,” the director called. “Let’s make it look real, yeah? Just natural.”

You and Noel nodded, and the cameras started rolling.

The director gave a few last-minute instructions, and you both nodded, settling into your places. The car was dimly lit, the scene designed to feel intimate and slightly moody. You adjusted your position in the passenger seat, suddenly hyper-aware of the closeness between you and Noel.

He glanced at you, his lips quirking into that familiar smirk. “Don’t look so terrified. It’s not real, y’know.”

You gave him a shaky laugh, trying to steady your nerves. “Oh, cheers for the reminder. You should write self-help books with lines like that.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his seat as he adjusted his collar. “Right, let’s get this over with, eh? Can’t be harder than sitting through Liam’s tantrums.”

You stifled a giggle just as the director called action. Noel turned to you, his expression softening as he slipped into character. It was incredible how effortlessly he shifted from his usual sarcastic demeanor to something that felt so real. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a tenderness that made your stomach flip.

You leaned in, just as the script called for, and suddenly his lips were on yours. At first, it was soft—hesitant, almost—but then something shifted. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, and before you knew it, it didn't feel like just acting anymore. His lips moved with an intensity that made your head spin, and your fingers curled instinctively into the fabric of his shirt.

Somewhere in the background, you vaguely heard a muffled giggle, but it didn’t register until the director’s voice rang out: “Cut! Oi, you two, save it for later!”

You pulled back abruptly, your face burning as you glanced at the crew. A couple of them were snickering behind their cameras, and the director looked half-amused, half-exasperated. Noel, however, didn’t seem the least bit bothered. He leaned back in his seat, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and gave the crew a lazy grin.

“What? Thought you lot said natural.”

The crew laughed, and the director shook his head. Meanwhile, you were desperately trying to compose yourself, your heart still pounding from the kiss.

Before you could say anything, Noel’s agent appeared by his side, clipboard in hand. “Noel, got a couple of things to go over before you’re done for the day.”

Noel sighed, standing up and giving the car door a light push. “Right. Can’t bloody wait.”

As he turned to follow the agent, he paused, leaning down so only you could hear. “Give it half an hour, yeah? Come by my room.” His voice was low, his breath warm against your ear.

All you could do was nod, too stunned to speak. He gave you a quick wink before walking off, leaving you to sit there with your thoughts spiraling in a hundred different directions.

After taking a moment to collect yourself, you returned to the dressing area to freshen up. Your reflection in the mirror betrayed just how flustered you were—cheeks flushed, lips still slightly swollen from the kiss. You dabbed on some powder, trying to steady your nerves as you checked the time. Exactly thirty minutes had passed when you made your way to his room.

You hesitated outside the door, your hand hovering just above the wood. What am I even doing? you thought. Before you could talk yourself out of it, the door swung open, and there he was.

“Thought I heard you mooching around out here,” Noel said, leaning casually against the doorframe. His tone was light, but his eyes had that same intensity from earlier, the kind that made it hard to look away. “C’mon in.”

You stepped inside, noting how sparse the room was—just a couch, a small table, and a couple of suitcases. He closed the door behind you, and the click of the lock sent a shiver down your spine.

“Alright, then,” he said, nodding toward the couch. “Make yourself comfortable”

You obeyed, perching on the edge of the cushion while he sat next to you, arms crossed. For a moment, neither of you spoke. His gaze lingered on you, his head tilted slightly, like he was trying to figure you out.

“You’ve been driving me bloody crazy all day,” he said finally, his voice low and rough.

Your breath hitched. “Me? You’ve got it backwards. It’s you driving me crazy.”

That made him smirk, and he pushed off the table, taking a slow step toward you. “Oh, yeah? How’s that, then?”

You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking to his mouth before you could stop yourself. “You’re... impossible. That’s how.”

“Impossible?” he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue seamlessly. He was sitting even closer to you now, close enough that you could see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way his shirt clung to his chest. “Funny, that. Don’t feel so impossible when you’re snogging me in a car, though, does it?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he didn’t give you the chance. His hands came up to cup your face, and then his lips were on yours again—fierce and demanding, like he’d been holding back all day and couldn’t keep it in anymore. You melted into the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pulled you closer, practically lifting you off the couch.

“Christ,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice husky. “You’ve no idea what you do to me.”

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, your hands sliding to his chest.

He groaned softly, deepening the kiss until your head spun. His hands were everywhere—your waist, your back, the curve of your hips—and you couldn’t get enough of him. When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“Stay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your heart pounding as he kissed you again, softer this time but no less intense. It wasn’t just passion—it was connection, something you’d felt from the moment you met but hadn’t been able to put into words until now.

Noel pulled you closer, his hands sliding down to your hips as he guided you onto his lap. The weight of his hands was grounding and electric all at once, like you’d been waiting for this moment longer than you realized. His lips didn’t leave yours for a second, kissing you with the kind of hunger that made the world outside his room blur into nothing.

“You’re summat else, y’know that?” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and gravelly. His hands splayed over your thighs, the warmth of his touch seeping through the thin fabric of your dress. “Got me all worked up—can’t think straight.”

You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers tangling in his hair as you kissed him again. “I could say the same about you.”

He grinned against your mouth, and you felt his grip tighten, grounding you against him. “Good. About time someone got through to me.”

His lips trailed from your mouth to your jawline, then down to your neck, where he pressed a series of slow, deliberate kisses that made you shiver. Your head tilted back instinctively, giving him more access, and he took full advantage, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to leave a pleasant ache behind.

“Is this alright?” he asked softly, his voice almost a whisper.

You nodded, your breath catching as you whispered back, “More than alright.”

That was all the encouragement he needed. His hands roamed freely now, sliding up your back and down your sides, tracing the contours of your body like he was trying to memorize every inch of you. He pulled you impossibly closer, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back just enough to make sure you were still with him.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he said, his words muffled against your skin. It was an unguarded moment, one that felt more like a confession than a compliment, and it sent your heart racing even faster.

You cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “So are you,” you said simply, your voice steady despite the way your body hummed with anticipation.

That seemed to unravel something in him. He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands tangling in your hair as if he never wanted to let you go. The way he touched you was careful but insistent, like he was caught between savoring the moment and giving in to the urgency building between you.

“Say somethin’ smart now, eh?” he teased breathlessly, his forehead resting against yours. “All that wit earlier—gone quiet on me now, haven’t you?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your hands sliding under the hem of his shirt to trace the lines of his stomach. “You’re one to talk. Weren’t you supposed to be the eloquent one?”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk returning even as his breathing hitched under your touch. “Guess I’m a bit distracted. Can’t imagine why.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with something between affection and pure want.

Time seemed to slow, every moment etched into your memory as you lost yourselves in each other. His shirt hit the floor, your dress following soon after, and then it was just the two of you, unguarded and vulnerable in a way you’d never experienced before. His lips trailed along your collarbone, his stubble brushing against your skin and leaving a pleasant ache in its wake. Your nails traced the lines of his back, pulling him closer, silently urging him on.

He paused for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath. “You’re sure?” he asked, his voice softer now, the teasing edge replaced by genuine care.

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over the faint lines at the corners of his eyes. “Never been more sure,” you whispered, your voice steady even as your heart raced.

That was all he needed, the moments that followed were a blur of sensation, his hands gripping your hips, the warmth of his skin against yours, the way his name slipped from your lips in a breathless whisper. He moved with a deliberate intensity, as though he wanted to draw this out for as long as possible, to savor every second.

The couch creaked beneath you as you shifted together, the air in the room thick with the mingling sounds of your shared breaths and quiet gasps. Every touch, every kiss, felt like an unspoken promise, a silent declaration of everything you’d both been holding back. It was intoxicating, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, the way he made you feel like you were finally exactly where you were meant to be.

Eventually, the passion gave way to a quiet stillness, the room settling around you both. Noel’s arm draped over you as you lay on the couch, your head resting on his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath your ear, a comforting rhythm that grounded you as you tried to catch your breath.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the reality of what just happened sinking in. Noel’s hand moved lazily along your back, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.

“Well,” he said finally, his voice low and laced with a hint of his usual humor, “that wasn’t in the script.”

You laughed, the sound muffled against his chest. “Pretty sure it was better than anything in the script.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Not gonna argue with that.”

Silence settled over you again, but this time it was comfortable, a shared understanding passing between you without the need for words. You knew this wasn’t just a momentary lapse, something to be brushed off when the sun rose. This was something more—something neither of you had expected, but both of you were more than ready to explore.

Noel shifted slightly, his fingers tilting your chin up so he could look at you. “You alright, love?” he asked, his tone soft, almost hesitant.

You nodded, your smile genuine. “Better than alright.”

His lips quirked into a lopsided grin. “Good. ’Cause you’ve just gone and ruined me, y’know.”

You raised an eyebrow, your laughter bubbling up again. “Me? Ruined you? That’s rich coming from you”

He smirked, pulling you closer. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll ruin you all over again.”

The playful edge to his voice sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, he kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the moment. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closing briefly.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, neither of you in any hurry to leave the small world you’d created together.

_________________________________________________________

my 'angin brain’s come up with this just for you lot. Thought I’d make the grown-up bit a bit more sensual, a bit more romantic with less filthy detail (not that I don't support filthy detail). Let me know what you thought, me dirty celestial beings xx

and cheers to whoever requested this, hope you liked it, and it was at least close to what you wanted to see x

#noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher x f!reader #oasis x reader #noel gallagher x you #oasis one shots #oasis band #noel gallagher one shots

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shina913 · 2 days ago

Text

Scions, Ch.9 | Kim Line + JHS

Scions (series)

sci·on | \ ˈsī-ən \ Definition: (1) a descendant (2) a shoot or twig, especially one cut for grafting or planting

✼Scions Masterlist✼

Pairing: Sister!Reader + Kim brothers; JHS x Fem!Reader; some POV shifts in scenes

Rating: M (🔞)

Genre: ANGST!!!!!! Siblings!AU; Marriage!AU; Family!AU; FWB!AU; exes to ?; siblings' best friend; smut; fluff

Chapter warnings: heavy drama; references to character death (not the members); grieving/mourning; infidelity; references to pregnancy loss; allusions to smut but nothing explicit

Word count: 9.9k

Summary: Four grown siblings return to their childhood hometown after their father is declared to be terminal. They are forced to live under the same roof for days, along with their overbearing mother, to say their final goodbyes. It starts off nostalgic until some unresolved family issues along with an assortment of spouses, exes, and might-have-beens make things even more interesting.

A/N: I'm back (sort of)! I'm happy to have been able to revisit this story, this family, and this AU. There are many moving parts to this chapter--POV shifts over multiple scenes. To think this all happens in a span of 24hrs (in this AU) 😵‍💫

I want to say that this is the penultimate chapter, as this story is about to come to an end. Hopefully, it won’t take me another year to finish the finale 😬

Last year, my family experienced a loss. I channeled much of the emotions from that experience into this chapter. My hope is that you'll find it as cathartic to read as I found it to write.

If you’re still following along (after all this time), thank you for sticking around and I want you to know that I appreciate you🩵

“Would anybody care for some shots?” Taehyung asks nobody in particular after you all walk through the door.

Your mind lingers on what you witnessed before leaving the bar. Though drowning the memory with more drinks is tempting, you decide against it. “I’ve had enough for tonight, thanks,” you say. “If you guys are drinking more, can you please try to keep it down?” you ask your brothers as you head upstairs to check on your kids.

“Welp, since she’s out…” Taehyung looks at his brothers expectantly.

“Sure, pour me one,” Namjoon says.

Taehyung looks at Jin, who sighs and eventually acquiesces. “Okay, but only if we drink something better than that shit tequila from the cupboard!”

“Aww, but it’s tradition,” Taehyung whines. “And, if I remember correctly, it was you who introduced us to that shit tequila!”

“Not by choice!” Jin says wryly, glancing at Namjoon.

“Me? It’s not my fault I caught you sneaking around,” Namjoon retorts with a chuckle.

“Yeah, but then you got YN and him into it—ugh,” Jin groans. Realizing the argument is dampening the mood, he says, “Nevermind. The point is, I have something better!”

He walks up to one of the lower kitchen cabinets and retrieves an unlabeled bottle–no taller than seven inches–containing an amber-colored liquid.

Taehyung picks it up and holds it against the light, eyeing it curiously. “What is it?” he asks.

“A side project I’ve been working on,” Jin answers, his tone filled with quiet pride. “It’s a whiskey that I made using traditional methods. Namjoon gave me the idea for it a couple of years ago.”

A smile tugs at Namjoon’s lips as he recalls the night. Admittedly, it was more of a drunken suggestion than a moment of genius, but seeing Jin’s dedication to bringing it to life fills him with a sense of admiration.

Jin continues, “I finally figured out a great recipe.”

“Do you have a name for it?” Namjoon asks.

“For now, it’s ‘Number 20’—as in, it’s my 20th attempt,” Jin chuckles softly. As his laughter subsides, he turns wistful. “A few weeks ago, before he went to the hospital, Dad took a sip and…he suggested we sell it in small batches. He thought it had the potential to be something special.”

Namjoon and Taehyung go quiet, at the mention of your dad’s memory.

Jin clears his throat, in an attempt to keep the tone light. “Anyway, I can’t think of a better time to share it with my brothers.”

Taehyung carefully unscrews the cap of the bottle. He lifts the bottle to his nose and takes a sniff of its contents, his face immediately contorts in reaction. “Oof…the smell alone feels like it’s going to knock me out for the next couple of days,” he exclaims with a hearty laugh that echoes through the room. He then passes the bottle to Namjoon, whose expression quickly mirrors Taehyung’s grimace as the potent smell hits his nostrils.

Jin laughs at their reactions. “It’s a little concentrated, I know. Dad took a fat nap after we took shots.”

Smiling fondly, Taehyung looks at his older brothers. “What are we standing around for? Let’s grab some glasses!”

Namjoon retrieves three glencairn glasses from the cupboard and lines them up in front of his younger brother, who starts pouring.

“Okay-okay-okay, that’s more than enough!” Jin sputters, scolding Taehyung for his heavy-handedness. “Just go up to here.” He holds his finger up to the fullest part of the glass.

Taehyung snickers, takes the ‘overpoured’ glass for himself, and passes the other two to his older brothers. “The Kim brothers, together again,” he beams as he picks up his drink.

Namjoon smiles warmly at his younger brother’s sentimentality.

“Should we toast to anything?” Taehyung turns to Jin, who looks puzzled.

“What are you looking at me for? He’s the spokesperson of this family,” he points to Namjoon.

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “I think I’ve done enough speaking today, thanks.”

“Why don’t you say something, hyung? It doesn’t have to be deep,” Taehyung laughs.

“Why do we have to say anything at all? Can’t we just drink it?” Jin complains.

“I’m sure you have something in mind,” Namjoon coaxes. “Just say whatever feels right.”

Jin puffs his cheeks out and blows out a breath. He wasn’t poetic like Namjoon, nor was he tender-hearted like Taehyung.

He was ‘just Jin.’ The oldest brother, who took it upon himself to move back home after graduating college to help out in the family business; married his high school sweetheart and bought a house in the same neighborhood as his childhood home.

The one who constantly looked in on his retired parents while all of his siblings flew the nest to pursue opportunities away from home.

Shaking his thoughts away, he raises his glass, and his brothers mirror his gesture. “Alright, alright.” He clears his throat before continuing. “At the risk of sounding cheesy, I’d like to say that although this may not have been the best circumstance to bring us all together, I’m still glad that we’re all together. And I hope we can do this more often, even without dad or mom prompting us.”

Namjoon and Taehyung stare at Jin with goofy smiles on their faces.

He groans in mild annoyance. “See, I told you guys—”

“That was beautiful, hyung,” Taehyung remarks.

“I agree. Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Namjoon adds.

Jin’s ears turn red with a mix of embarrassment and pride as his brothers shower him with compliments. In his heart, he hopes that their beloved father, wherever he is, can see this moment.

“Cheers!”

His younger brothers clinked their glasses against his, then tilted them to their lips for a sip.

********

You’re in bed, tossing and turning. You feel tired, but sleep won’t come. You wish you had accepted Taehyung’s offer for a night cap. It might have helped subdue all the racing thoughts in your head and the emotions you’ve been feeling all day. From your dad’s memorial to the shock of Sam’s divorce filing.

That kiss…

You squeeze your eyes shut at the memory. Grabbing a pillow, hold it to your face, and muffle your frustrated groans into it. Then with a huff, you roll out of bed.

When you step out into the hallway, you pad your way to your parents’ bedroom first. You poke your head in to find your kids peacefully asleep with your mom. The sight of it is heartwarming, despite the chaos swirling in your head.

You head downstairs to the kitchen and make your way to a specific cupboard. There, hidden behind some condiments, you find the communal tequila bottle. This is the same bottle you and your brothers used to sneak sips from, always making sure to top it off to the marked level so your dad wouldn’t notice.

That was, until one fateful night when Taehyung not only left it out on the counter but also forgot to refill it. Your dad was furious, and Jin, being the noble brother he is, tried to take all the blame. Despite his efforts, the guilt got to all of you, leading to a group confession. In the end, instead of scolding you, your dad found it amusing. When Taehyung finally reached the legal drinking age, he decided to make it a family tradition, insisting on keeping the ritual of refilling the bottle.

You fondly stroke your thumb over the smudged marker on the bottle’s label, chuckling at the thought of this silly but beloved family inside joke.

You’re about to pour yourself a shot when something on the kitchen counter catches your eye—a bottle that is less than half-filled with some amber liquid. You unscrew the top and bring the bottle closer to your nose. It smells like whiskey, but a bit more fragrant than you’re used to. You decide to pour some into the cap and take a tentative sip. Convinced, you grab a glass from the cupboard and pour yourself a generous shot.

As you let the alcohol settle into your bloodstream, you glance out the kitchen window towards Hobi’s house, where the porch light is on. You blink and squint, trying to focus.

You pour yourself another hefty shot and toss it back, shuddering involuntarily from its potency.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, but it almost feels like the porch light is glowing more brightly than usual, like it’s calling you. Before you know it, your feet, seemingly moving on their own, carry you across the street.

********

Despite your stomach churning, you do your best not to ruin the nice patch of azaleas next to you. You know you shouldn’t be here, especially not in this state. Nevermind that you’d already embarrassed yourself earlier this evening when you picked a stupid fight with Hoseok at the bar. To make matters worse, you kissed him!

However, as messy as you were, that kiss made you realize how much you missed that kind of intimacy and connection with someone. Then again, it also feels wrong to think about it, because it’s completely self-serving. Truth be told, you weren’t in a position to be selfish.

You groan from the pounding in your head, likely caused by whatever mystery alcohol you just had. If you ever remember anything from this evening, you make a mental note to ask Taehyung what the hell that was.

I should head back, you tell yourself, trying to hang on to the last bit of reason you have. You grab onto the iron handrail and manage to stand up, even though your legs feel like jelly.

And yet, you make no effort to move. It’s as if a part of you knows you still have unfinished business to handle, and that’s what’s keeping you here.

Seconds later, headlights round the corner. The intense brightness temporarily blinds you, so you shield your face. The car pulls into the driveway, coming to a stop right where you stand. The engine and lights shut off, and the driver’s side door slams in the quiet night.

As you lower your hand, you’re faced with your unfinished business standing in front of you. The tension between you is palpable, with years of unspoken words and repressed feelings threatening to spill out of you.

“I’ve got some leftovers from the bar. Want some?” Hoseok offers.

The mere thought of food makes you nauseous. You shift uncomfortably, seeking some form of stability, but nothing helps. Your surroundings start to spin, and just when you think you’re about to fall over, he rushes to your side to hold you upright.

“Okay,” he says with a light chuckle. “Why don’t we go inside and have a good hurl first, hm?”

********

Sitting in this kitchen felt…strange. The space had changed so much since you last remembered it that it seemed like an entirely different house.

Namjoon had told you that after Hoseok’s mom retired and bought a smaller apartment across town, he had transformed his childhood home into a bachelor pad of sorts.

The first floor’s layout felt more open now that the divider wall between the kitchen and living room had been knocked down. The plastic-covered plaid furniture was gone, replaced by more modern fixtures that complemented the interior’s neutral palette.

You wonder if the changes to this home mirrored the changes Hoseok himself had gone through the years.

“Want some more coffee?” He leaned on the kitchen counter, watching as you stared at the table. The family’s original dining table stood out as the only contrasting piece of furniture. It was the sole item he had kept from the ‘old house.’

This table was where you and your brothers had done homework while waiting for your dad to finish work, where they had hosted your family for countless dinners. It held memories of many conversations and laughs.

You glance at your mug and chuckle at his offer. “Thanks, but I’m good. I should get going soon.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to lie down for a bit?” He’s concerned, but doesn’t want to come across pushy.

That might help, but you worry that if you stayed any longer, you’d end up passing out for the rest of the night—and that probably wouldn’t be the smartest move for you, knowing your kids would be looking for you in the morning.

You shake your head, politely declining. “Thank you, though.”

“Alright. Just trying to be a good host, that’s all,” he says with a warm smile. “Guess this means your alcohol tolerance hasn’t changed. Still a lightweight, huh?” He jokes.

You roll your eyes. “Please,” you scoff, finishing your coffee. “I had a couple shots of unlabeled whiskey without knowing how strong it was. My body was just a bit shocked, that’s all,” you say defensively.

He gets up from his seat and moves towards you. You steel yourself as he leans in... to pick up your empty mug. “I’m only teasing. Sorry about that,” he smirks before walking away.

Smiling nervously, you massage your temple as he heads toward the sink.

Despite the seemingly lighthearted tone of this exchange, there’s still an undercurrent of tension. You can’t easily forget about this evening’s confrontation—it’s mainly why you stumbled here in your inebriated state. The other reason?

“Are you and Dara a thing?” The words tumble out before you know it.

The steady stream of water from the faucet is the only sound that fills the room while he mulls over your question.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you blurt out, regret washing over you. “I-I should leave.” You stumble to your feet, your legs unsteady, your head pounding as you make for the door. A nagging voice in you reminds you that, given your complicated history, you have no right to pry into his personal life.

“Was that why you were sitting on my front stoop, drunk, in the middle of the night?”

You freeze, your hand hovering over the door latch as his question lingers. Torn between the urge to flee and wanting answers, it gave you pause.

He calls out your name.

Slowly, you turn to face him, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Would you believe me if I said ‘no’?” you wince.

Hoseok chuckles wryly. “You know you can’t bullshit your way through this.”

There’s no turning back now. Shoulders slumping in defeat, you admit, “I saw you and Dara having a moment as my brothers and I were leaving Hangsang.” You shrug, adding, “Looks like you guys got closer over the years.”

He stands there, an unreadable look on his face as he processes your words. When you realize he was making no attempt to deny it, you come to a hasty conclusion. You couldn’t disguise the disappointment from your tone.

“So, it’s true? You and Dara are—”

“Were,” he corrects you. “Past tense.”

Hoseok had hoped he didn’t need to have this conversation with you, but since you brought it up, there was no point in avoiding it.

“She and I were intimate a few times, but it didn’t go beyond that." He clears his throat, expression softening as he moves from behind the counter towards you.

“We found comfort in each other. I was watching my dad fade away, and she lost her husband,” he trailed off. “It just…happened. But we’re not in any kind of relationship.”

“And you’re sure she understands that?” you ask, recalling how Dara had tenderly stroked Hoseok’s face.

“She does,” he replies. “I made it clear I couldn’t offer her anything more. I wasn’t in a good place emotionally, and I knew I wasn't ready to open my heart to anyone.”

His admission weighs on you, but you try not to dwell on it. After all, Hoseok is a grown man capable of making his own decisions.

“Thank you for being honest,” you say quietly, at a loss for words.

“You know I can’t lie to you. And I won’t, because I have no reason to. Besides,” he says, stopping mere inches from you, “as Dara put it, when I look at her, I see someone else.”

His gaze coupled with his proximity sets your pulse racing, and the room seems to shrink, filled with emotions you’ve tried to bury for years. His warm breath on your skin makes you want to close the gap between you.

“You’re it for me,” he says softly. “Without you, I was ready to spend the rest of my life walking around with a hole in my chest.”

His confession overwhelms you, causing a lump to form in your throat.

“Am I pathetic or what?” He chuckles wryly.

You shake your head. “Not in the least,” you say softly.

During a marriage counseling session, Sam said your love for him felt limited—contrived, even. You disagreed, insisting that having a second child proved your full commitment to him, which you genuinely believed at the time.

As time passed, you and Sam drifted apart. Returning to your hometown has only magnified the disconnect in your marriage. It's not that Sam is a bad partner; you just aren't fully present. A piece of you is missing, and that's what's keeping you from giving your all.

Now you realize what you've known all along—the person before you has always held that missing piece.

“It’s always been you, sunshine. Always.”

Your breath catches as you choke back a sob. “Hoseok,” you breathe out.

He cups your face, gently wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. His warmth envelops you instantly. He may call you “sunshine,” but he was always your source of light. You decided then that you were done hiding in the shadows, and it was time to step back into the sun.

You lean in and kiss him, pouring all your angst and pain into it. As your lips touch, it feels like no time has passed. The connection between you is still there, as strong as ever.

He tightens his grip on you with his free hand, pulling you closer until no space remains between you. You both move towards the living room. Eager and breathless, you stumble onto the couch—a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths. The outside world fades away as you lose yourselves in each other.

********

Jin heads back upstairs to his room after having a few drinks with his brothers. He opens the door to find his wife, Yoojung, sleeping peacefully in bed.

He leans against the doorframe, watching her chest rise and fall in even breaths. He thinks about how lucky he is to have somebody like her as his partner and how amazing she’s been over the past couple of weeks.

He strips off his clothes and crawls into bed, pausing to kiss her forehead before settling in.

She stirs, her hand blindly feeling around for him in the dark. When she finds him, she slowly opens her eyes, smiling drowsily.

“Hi,” she croaks out.

“Hi,” Jin answers. “Feeling any better?” She’d been under the weather for a few days.

“Yeah,” she replies.

“Are you sure you’re not just saying that to make me feel better? I can take you to see the doctor tomorrow.”

She shakes her head slowly. “I’m fine, really,” she insists. “I think the last few days just caught up with me.”

She’d been constantly on the go, shouldering the burden of caring for the entire household while the family grieved.

He strokes her cheek, feeling guilty about how much she’s done for his family. “I’m sorry. My siblings are here for a couple more days, and once they leave, we can go back to our own home. Back to peace and quiet,” he says with a hint of humor.

“You don’t need to apologize,” she reassures him, “but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t looking forward coming back to our own place.”

He goes in for another kiss, this one more intense than the first. His lips move against hers, tender and loving, showing how much he appreciates her without saying a word.

When they come up for air, they’re both breathless.

“Wow, what was that for?” she asks, her cheeks flushed.

“Just a thank-you for being the best,” Jin answers. “I know being around my whole family is chaotic, but I’m grateful that you’ve been so patient in putting up with them.”

Yoojung’s lips curve into a gentle smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “I don’t put up with them. They’re my family, too. I was happy to take care of everybody.”

Jin’s chest swells with so much love for her. He caresses her cheek, saying, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Without me, you’d be stuck eating leftovers from the restaurant every day for dinner,” she jokes.

Jin throws his head back, laughing heartily. The alcohol has loosened his inhibitions. Yoojung quickly covers his mouth, shushing him to avoid waking the entire house.

“The kids are asleep,” she whispers harshly. “You need to keep it down.”

He can’t explain why, but her scolding turns him on. The alcohol seems to also have made him incredibly horny.

“Oh yeah?” His eyebrow quirks. “Why don’t you shut me up then?” He gives her a look—that same smoldering look that makes her core tighten in response.

Her breath catches, but she hesitates, mildly aware of how close their bedroom was to his parents’ room. Besides, her fertile window wasn’t for another day or two. “We can’t—”

“Please, yeobo…”

He moves closer, lowering his head to kiss her neck. Her lips part with a soft sigh when he begins to suck on the sensitive skin there.

Yoojung’s instinct is to reach for her phone to check her fertility app, but Jin’s neediness proves too irresistible for her to wait for her body to reach the ideal basal temperature. She was hot for him now.

Jin’s hand glides past her waist. She shifts slightly, hooking her leg on his waist, giving him better access as his fingers slips between her thighs.

Trying to stay quiet intensified their senses. Jin made Yoojung come twice. The first time, she sank her teeth into his shoulder to muffle her cries. The second time, she buried her face in her pillow while he groaned into her ear, reaching his own release.

It had been a while since they’d had sex purely for pleasure. The fertility treatments and constant focus on conceiving had turned these intimate moments into more of a chore, taking away the romance and passion.

Tonight was different. They savored each other, relishing every touch and sensation. Afterward, they lay together, content and happy.

“I love you,” he murmured between kisses, “so much…”

“I love you, too,” she sighed softly before they both drifted off to sleep.

You and Hoseok lie together, bodies entwined, hands brushing over bare skin. You bask in each other's presence as time seems to stand still.

He brushes over the curve of your eyebrow with the tip of his finger, his touch sending a flutter through your chest.

"Do you ever wonder how things might have been between us?“

“Yes,“ you respond without hesitation. "It's embarrassing how often I've thought about it." A pang of guilt hits you. This admission feels unfair to Sam and your marriage, but you're only human. During arguments with him, you find yourself seeking comfort either in your children--or in thoughts of Hoseok.

”I'm not judging,” he reassures you.

Your eyes locked for a moment, and you lace your fingers with his, studying every groove and contour. Curiosity sparkled in his gaze as he asked, “What are you thinking about now?”

“That my hand fits perfectly with yours.” Something about him brings out all the cheesiness in you.

Intrigued, he leaned closer, tilting his head slightly. “Does it?”

Smiling, you brought his hand to your lips, brushing a tender kiss against his skin. The warmth from the sensation fills his chest, and without hesitation, he leans in for another kiss.

Even though you wish to stay like this all day, on his couch and wrapped up in his arms, daylight was peeking through his living window, much like the reality of the situation.

“I need to get back before Jooni wakes up looking for me,” you say with much reluctance.

At the mention of your daughter, Hoseok nods understandingly. He gives you space to disentangle yourself from him, his eyes following your bare form as you cross the room to retrieve the clothes he’d stripped off you earlier.

As you pull your top over your torso, you catch him watching your every move while you dress.

You pause, your face scrunching in amusement. “Can I help you with something?”

“Don’t mind me. I’m just enjoying the view.”

You gesture at your body. “Oh, you mean this old thing?”

“I don’t care. I love it. You’re beautiful.” He says it with so much reverence that it makes your heart flutters. You crouch down, gently stroking his cheek before kissing him.

You squeal in surprise as he grabs your waist and pulls you back onto the couch, onto his lap. You gaze down at him, taking in the sight of his tousled hair and sleepy eyes. He lies beautifully beneath you, not quite fully awake.

“Now this looks familiar…” he says playfully, his hands squeezing your thighs on either side of him. “It’s like déjà vu or something.”

You giggle at his teasing, resisting the urge to rock your hips against him. Earlier, your self-control had been far less restrained—non-existent, even. Memories flood your mind like a vivid highlight reel: echoes of pleasure-filled moans, fingertips tracing paths across sensitive skin, igniting sparks of arousal. It’s been ages since you’ve allowed yourself to be so completely swept up in the moment.

As difficult as it was to pull away from him, you find the strength. “Okay, I really, really need to go,” you murmur, suppressing a grin. You hop off him to finish dressing, then head to the bathroom to freshen up.

When you emerge, you find him sitting up. He’s pulled his bottoms on but his chest is still bare.

He raises his head, and you see a grave look on his face, worrying you.

“Hey… are you okay?” you ask, approaching him.

His gaze lingers on you—tracing your eyes, then your lips, then the curve of your cheek—as if he’s committing every feature to memory.

”What's wrong?” you ask again, growing more concerned.

“I’m scared that if you walk out that door, I won’t see you again,” he whispers. “But I know I can’t be selfish.”

Your impending divorce will undoubtedly complicate things, and you’re wary of clinging to false hope—for his sake and yours.

The reasonable thing to do is to return home, pretend last night never happened, and continue existing in your familiar reality.

After that final conversation with your dad, you decide you no longer want to merely exist—you want to truly live.

“We can afford to be selfish once in a while.” You brush your thumb across his lips, finally accepting the truth you’ve tried to escape for so long. “You’re it for me, too.”

You draw his mouth to yours and kiss him again. It feels right.

You run across the street, heart pounding furiously in your chest as you return from spending the night at Hoseok’s house. You peer through the kitchen window, checking if anyone’s awake—it seems early enough. Convinced the coast is clear, you slip in through the backyard’s side entrance to access the door that leads into the kitchen.

Unbeknownst to you, Jin enters the kitchen, coffee in hand, and settles at the counter to scroll through his emails. He’s in a fantastic mood—brought on by last night’s escapade and a hot wake-up call from Yoojung this morning.

His head whips around at the sound of the creaking door hinge. Amused, he watches you comically shut the door, trying your best to be stealthy. As you turn around, your heart leaps into your throat when you finally spot him.

“Ah! What the fu—” You clutch your chest.

“Well, good morning to you," Jin greets you, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

”Oppa...” you say carefully. You have no clue how much he's seen or how long he's been sitting there.

He can’t help but chuckle and take this opportunity to tease you. “I feel like I’ve just been transported back 15 years ago.”

You feel like a teenager again, caught sneaking around with Hoseok in the early days of your relationship.

Before you can come up with an excuse, the sound of feet shuffling announces the arrival of your children. Joobin and Jooni come down the stairs with your mom in tow.

“Mommy!” Jooni exclaims, running into your arms.

“Hi sweetie pie, good morning!” you reply, enveloping her in a warm hug.

Joobin, ever observant, asks, “Where were you? We woke up and you weren’t in the room.”

Thinking quickly, you make up a story.

“Well, uhm, I thought I heard a noise coming from the backyard, so I went downstairs to check on it.”

The kids, still curious, pepper you with more questions, but Jin comes to your rescue, deftly distracting them.

“Who wants pancakes?” he interjects.

The kids erupt in cheers, eagerly volunteering to assist their uncle in the kitchen.

You shoot Jin a grateful look, silently thanking him for the intervention. While the kids help him grab utensils and ingredients from the cupboards, your mom sidles up to you.

“Do I want to know where you’ve actually been?”

You make a beeline for the coffee machine. “It’s better you don’t,” you reply, in desperate need of caffeine.

As the pancake batter is mixed, Jin can’t resist one last playful jab. “Namjoon was right. You do get a great view of Hobi’s house from here,” he teases, leaving you to wonder how much he knows about your late-night activities across the street.

The kitchen is buzzing with morning energy when Taehyung trudges in. His hair looks like a bird's nest, and his eyes are barely open slits.

Jin couldn’t resist a little teasing. “Kids, say good morning to Uncle Tae!” he chirped.

Oblivious to their youngest uncle’s state, they shouted enthusiastically, “Good morning, samchyonie!”

Taehyung winced, his hands flying to his ears. “Heyyy kiddos…not so loud,” he croaks, his words slurring together. As he passes them to rummage through the cupboards, he plants a gentle kiss on top of each child’s head.

Jin’s trademark squeaky laugh filled the air. “Let’s keep it down, guys. Uncle Tae is hungover,” he explained, clearly enjoying the situation.

“Mommy, what’s ‘hungover’?” Jooni asks innocently.

You glared at Jin, which only made him laugh harder.

Joobin piped up, “Does that mean he’s drunk?”

Taehyung, summoning what little energy he had, corrected them. “It means I was drunk yesterday,” he says, dragging himself further into the kitchen until he finds the tea bags.

Jin couldn’t resist one more jab. “Actually, it seems like you’re still drunk right now,” he muttered under his breath.

“I heard that,” Taehyung grumbled, before turning his attention to you. “Is there any hot water ready for tea? And maybe some Tylenol or Advil?”

“Honey, did you check in my bathroom? I have plenty there,” your mom offers.

Taehyung shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m ready to go back in there yet.” The morning’s lighthearted mood shifts. Your mom’s face falls slightly, realizing he still can’t bear entering that room without thinking of your dad.

“I have some in my bag,” you offer. “Just check in my room.” Taehyung mouths his thanks and walks over to retrieve the pills from your purse.

********

Namjoon is startled awake by his phone buzzing. Groaning, he reaches for it along with his glasses. When he puts them on and sees the caller ID flashing on his lock screen, he picks up the call immediately.

“Vee?” He croaks.

“It's happening again!” her panicked voice rings out. “I'm bleeding...I’m going to lose the baby! What do I do?” she says over and over, sobbing uncontrollably.

Namjoon breaks into a cold sweat, instantly forgetting the pounding headache he woke up with. He sits up and keeps his voice even to calm her.

“Hey, listen to me. Let’s focus on your breathing, okay?” he says soothingly. “I’ll call an ambulance to the hotel, and I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

He knows it would be faster for her to go directly to the hospital rather than wait for him to pick her up.

“Do you understand?”

“I… Uh… yes...okay,” she agrees shakily, scrambling to gather her things.

“Hang in there, baby. I’ll see you soon, okay?”

She agrees with a whimper before the call ends.

As your children enjoy their breakfast, Jin and Taehyung’s playful banter continues. You can’t help but laugh at your brothers while sneaking a few bites from Joobin’s plate.

“I don’t think I can look at another bottle of whiskey again—especially those Jin-hyung concocted in his basement,” Taehyung groans as he massages his temples.

Your eyes widen at this revelation. Looks like you may have found the answer to the mystery alcohol you drank yesterday after all!

“It was not made in my basement,” Jin contests. “I partnered with a local brewer, so the casks are stored in their facility. It's artisan-level–”

Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Oh, excuse me–it’s a stranger’s basement whiskey then? Right, that sounds way more comforting.”

Jin puffs up indignantly. “It’s a craft spirit! There’s a difference. The process is—” he pauses, then puffs out a frustrated breath. “You know what? There’s no point in arguing with you. You’re impossible when you’re hungover.”

Taehyung grins triumphantly, taking another sip of his Bloody Mary that your mom made for him.

“Uncle TaeTae, can I try your smoothie?” Jooni wonders curiously.

Your mom shakes her head. “You don’t want that, darling. Only grown-ups who made bad decisions the night before can drink this special smoothie.”

“I’m happy to declare that I actually made some good decisions last night,” Taehyung says proudly.

Just then, you are startled by Namjoon’s heavy footsteps coming from the basement stairs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” he mutters repeatedly, nearly stumbling on his way to the front door.

Jin pops his head out into the hallway. “Whoa—where’s the fire?”

“It’s, uh... it’s Vee. She—I mean, the baby—the baby’s in trouble.” He’s frantically wrestling with his keys on the wall hanger until the entire thing crashes to the floor.

Taehyung rushes to help as Namjoon lets out a pained growl and buries his head in his hands in frustration.

“I don’t need to know all the details,” Taehyung says calmly. “Just tell me what I can do to help.”

“I need to go to the hospital. Now.” Namjoon answers as evenly as he can manage.

“Okay. I’ll drive—”

“You’re not going anywhere, Kim Taehyung! You just had a drink!” you scold him.

“Ah, shit,” Taehyung mutters, squeezing his eyes shut when he realizes this.

“It’s okay. I’m... I’m fine to drive. I’m fine,” Namjoon stutters.

Before Jin can volunteer, your mom appears at the foot of the stairs, wearing a coat over her pajamas. When did she even go upstairs? you all wonder.

“I’ll drive,” she announces, slipping on her sneakers by the front door.

“M-ma, I said I was okay. I can—” Namjoon’s protests are cut short as she snatches the car keys from Taehyung’s hand.

“No time to argue. Let’s go.” With determined strides, your mom marches out the front door, car keys jingling, and heads straight for her car in the driveway.

Namjoon is frozen in shock, his eyes darting between you and your brothers.

“Hello?!” Your loud voice not only jolts him back to reality but makes Taehyung and Jin flinch as well. “What are you waiting for? Go!” You practically shove his broad frame out the door.

With a grateful glance towards you and your brothers, he turns and hurries after your mom, anxious to face whatever awaits him at the hospital.

Once Namjoon arrives at the hospital, he runs toward the reception desk while his mom searches for parking.

“I’m here for Victoria Lee.”

Before the nurse searches her system, she asks, “And what is your relation to the patient?”

“I’m her, uh—” Namjoon hesitates, his breath catching. He quickly recovers, stating more firmly, “I’m her husband.” With their divorce papers still in process, this is technically and legally accurate.

The nurse eyes him suspiciously and asks for his name and identification, which Namjoon provides. Once she enters his information, she verifies that Namjoon is listed as Victoria’s emergency contact.

She hands his identification back to him. “Thank you, Mr. Kim. Just take the elevators up to the 3rd floor and she’ll be in room 9.”

Just as he utters his thanks, his mom walks through the sliding doors and they head up together to where Victoria was.

********

When Namjoon walks through the door, he sees Victoria on a slightly reclined bed. Her hospital gown is bunched up under her chest, exposing a subtle swell on her belly just below her navel.

She sees him, a mixture of shock and relief washing over her face.

“Joon!”

“Hey.” He rushes to her side and unwittingly gives her a quick peck on the lips. It catches them both by surprise. Namjoon apologizes under his breath but is interrupted by the doctor, who has just entered the room.

“Hi, are you the dad?” The doctor asks.

Namjoon nods.

“Great! I’m Dr. Yoon,” the doctor introduces himself. “You’re just in time for the ultrasound.”

“Ultrasound?” Namjoon asks, his voice laced with apprehension. The last time he looked at an ultrasound screen, it brought bad news.

“Yep,” the doctor responds. “This is going to be a little cold,” he warns Victoria before squeezing a bluish-green gel on her stomach. He turns back to grab the transducer probe off the hook, then begins to slide it over her belly. His free hand programs some settings onto the control panel until the screen comes to life.

Namjoon and Victoria hold their breaths in anticipation.

The doctor moves the probe to a different position to get another visual. It looks static from their viewpoint.

“Now, if I can just find the heartbeat, here,” the doctor mumbles.

“What if there’s no heartbeat?” she whispers shakily, eyes pooling with tears.

“Sshh,” he says, squeezing her hand gently. “Let’s not jump to conclusions yet. Give it some time.”

She begins to whimper. “I can’t believe this is happening again. What’s wrong with me?”

At that moment, Namjoon decided to reach for a white lie. “It’s all going to be fine, okay? Trust me.”

He didn’t know that for certain, of course, but the reassuring look he gave her was convincing enough to calm her down. In a way, it calmed him down too.

“Okay, let’s keep our voices down,” the doctor interrupts. “I’m having a hard time picking up anything on the monitor.”

Following the doctor’s instructions, he turns a knob on the control panel. Seconds later, a whooshing sound fills the room through the speakers. The baby’s heartbeat is strong and steady.

Namjoon and Victoria gasp in surprise and relief.

“Ah, there we go!” the doctor exclaims, pointing to the static blob wiggling on the screen.

“That’s—woah...” Namjoon stares in awe at the little bean flickering on the monitor.

“Oh my god,” Victoria whispers. She tearfully glances up at him with a small smile. It dawns on her that this is Namjoon’s first time seeing the baby’s scan.

“Wow,” he says again, completely at a loss for words.

“Music to my ears, and yours too, I’m sure,” the doctor smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The rhythmic whooshing sound continues to fill the room and Namjoon can’t help but return the smile, feeling an unexpected rush of emotion.

The doctor carefully repositions the probe, gliding it across Victoria’s gel-covered belly with ease. His eyes remain fixed on the monitor as he meticulously checks the baby’s vital organs and physical features, occasionally pausing to take measurements or adjust the angle for a clearer view.

After a few more minutes of observation, Dr. Yoon leans back with a satisfied nod. “Spotting aside, your baby appears to be doing just fine.” Hearing this, both Namjoon and Victoria visibly relax.

The doctor presses a few more buttons and prints out several images. “Here we go,” he says, detaching the sonogram printout and handing it to them.

They take the images from the doctor and gaze fondly at the picture of their baby.

“I’ve reviewed your bloodwork,” Dr. Yoon adds, “and noticed your progesterone levels are a bit low. I can prescribe something to help with that and so we can keep you and your baby safe. Sound good?”

As the doctor continues discussing the treatment plan, the door bursts open.

“Sorry, sorry! I got here as fast as I could. The GPS—”

Jaxon’s entrance instantly shatters the joy and euphoria Namjoon had been feeling. “Ah, fuck….”

Namjoon turns to her, his anger brimming. “You called him?”

Before discovering she was bleeding, Jaxon had already planned to meet Victoria at the hotel. In the midst of the emergency, she’d texted him about going to the hospital.

“Shit—Jax,” she utters in horror then turns back to Namjoon, trying to cobble up an explanation. “I—this isn’t—”

Namjoon rises from her bedside, anger bubbling in his chest. “No, no, no,” he says, shaking his head. “I can’t do this. I don’t even know why I came here...”

“I’m sorry, what’s going on here? Who are you?” Dr. Yoon asks, pointing to Namjoon.

“I am her husband!”

“And that makes you...?” Dr. Yoon turns to Jaxon.

“The guy my wife cheated on me with,” Namjoon said through gritted teeth.

Mortified, Victoria tries to plead with him. “Joon, please. Let’s not ruin this moment—”

Namjoon is incredulous. “I’m ruining the moment?” All the warm, sentimental feelings Namjoon had after seeing the sonogram vanish, were replaced by the contempt he felt when Victoria arrived unannounced to tell him about the pregnancy.

Jaxon, oblivious to the gravity of the situation, chooses this moment to interject. “Look, man, I had no clue–”

“Un-fucking-beliveable!” Namjoon growled.

Seeing the panic and distress on his patient’s face as she tries to calm both men, Dr. Yoon intervenes. “Alright! Both of you—out—now!” he says sternly. “I can’t have my patient under this kind of stress.”

Namjoon looks at Victoria. She drops her eyes to her hands, not arguing. It takes all of his energy to rein in his anger.

This isn’t the time or place, he says to himself. Squaring his jaw, he sidesteps Jaxon on his way out the door.

********

Lina rises from her chair when Namjoon arrives in the waiting area, his face contorted with rage.

“Honey, how is she? How’s the baby?” she asks, her voice tinged with worry.

“She’s fine,” Namjoon replies curtly. “Let’s go.”

“Wha—is she stable?” His mom, confused by his behavior, tries to piece things together. “What happened?”

“Ma, please!” He snaps.

Sensing his distress, she doesn’t push further and follows him toward the exit. As they stand before the bank of elevators, a voice calls out to Namjoon.

“Namjoon! Namjoon, wait up!”

He ignores it, but his mom glances past his shoulder, recognizing the man calling out.

“I hate these fucking elevators,” Namjoon mutters as he repeatedly jams his finger on the button until the doors finally open.

“Joon, Joon—wait!”

They both hurry inside, but a hand wedges between the closing doors, forcing them apart.

Namjoon curses under his breath as Jaxon steps in, attempting conversation. “Bro, I swear, I didn’t expect you to be here. Vee and I were supposed to meet up and—”

Namjoon’s mom looks on as he seethes within the cramped space. Though he could easily silence Jaxon with his fist, he restrains himself.

When the doors open to the lobby, Namjoon pushes past Jaxon, who is right on his tail, yapping away, badgering him for a response.

“C’mon, man—I’m trying to extend an olive branch here and you’re just shitting on it. I thought we were friends, bro?”

Namjoon turns around with a menacing glare. Jaxon’s words strike a nerve in him. They had indeed been friends and artistic partners once. But Namjoon knew Jaxon’s true nature all too well. The worst part of Victoria’s infidelity was that despite his warnings about Jaxon’s toxic behavior, she still chose to betray him. It was like getting stabbed in the back with a rusty knife and twisting it repeatedly for good measure.

“Jaxon, why don’t you take the hint and stop following him,” his mom interrupts, stepping between the two men. “He clearly doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Hospital security begins to approach, drawn by the commotion.

“And who the fuck are you, lady? Barking orders here like you’re the boss of me?” Jaxon yells. In his narcissistic haze, he’s forgotten Namjoon’s mom’s face, despite having met her a few times before.

Fully aware that this is the same asswipe who contributed to her son’s marital breakdown, she cocks her head and replies coolly, “I am his mother, and you are not allowed to speak to me that way!”

“Or what?”

One thing about Lina Young: if challenged, she would most definitely would rise to it.

Without hesitation, she balls her hand into a fist and throws a punch—the large gemstone on her ring landing squarely on Jaxon’s surgically enhanced nose. He lets out a pathetic whimper, clutching his face.

Namjoon’s jaw drops, his hand flying up to cover his mouth. He barely suppresses a guffaw as he watches his mom shake out her hand while security rushes to break up the commotion.

She raises her hands as they attempt to escort her. “I can walk myself out, thank you,” she says, straightening her coat. Reverting to her usual classy demeanor, she exits the building as if she hadn’t just made a man—a whole foot taller and 30 years her junior—cry.

Namjoon bends down to pick up her watch and bracelet, which she’d dropped in the scuffle.

“You’re just going to let your mom hit me?” Jaxon shouts as nurses tend to him.

“You bet I am! She’s a good shot, too,” Namjoon retorts, laughter echoing through the doors as he follows his mom to the parking lot.

Your mom smiles warmly from her seat at the dining table, watching Jooni hand an ice pack to you.

“Thank you, my darling girl,” she says to her granddaughter, wincing as you press it against her bruised hand.

When she and Namjoon arrived home, he led her straight to the kitchen to nurse her hand. Naturally, your children asked what was wrong with halmeoni. Namjoon quickly came up a wild story about her punching a vending machine when her chocolate bar got stuck.

“Halmeoni, please be careful next time. Daddy says you’re not supposed to hit the machine if your candy gets stuck. You have to call a worker to help you,” Joobin says, showing concern for her swollen hand.

“Thank you, Joobinie. I will remember that next time,” your mom replies sweetly.

You tell them to move to the backyard and continue playing, but not before Jooni gives her hand a light kiss before running off.

Once the kids are out of earshot, you decide to get the facts. “Care to tell me what really happened?”

Namjoon relays the events from the hospital, which ended with your mom sucker-punching Jaxon.

You gasp in horror and disbelief. “Oh my god, ma?!”

“What?” she says innocently, not seeing the problem. “It's not like he didn't deserve it! Besides, I never liked that piece of shit coming to my house anyway. I knew he was trouble, so he had it coming!”

You and Namjoon stare at her wide-eyed.

She rolls her eyes at both of you. “Oh, come on! You kids didn’t get your potty mouths from your father, that’s for damn sure.”

Before you can argue, you hear Jooni yelling for you from outside. You excuse yourself to check on what the kids might be arguing about this time. On your way out, you poke Namjoon in the ribs and mouth, “Promise you’ll tell me later?”

Namjoon gives you a nod, before you run out to check on your kids.

They enjoy a few moments of silence until Namjoon, who was standing before, moves to take a seat.

“Here, let me.” He takes the ice pack from her and presses it to her hand. She smiles fondly, watching him dote on her, as it was a rare sight.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” he mumbles, peering up at her.

“You know, I used to do my own stunts back in the day,” she quips, eliciting a laugh from him. She loved seeing the dimple in his cheek deepen. It mirrored her own on the opposite side.

As they settle into a comfortable silence, the gears in Namjoon’s mind continue to spin. She removes her hand from beneath the ice pack to take off her ring, hoping to ease more of the soreness and swelling. His gaze shifts to the jewelry she sets down on the table—a solitaire emerald symbolizing his parents’ 35-year anniversary.

He recalls the day his father proudly showed him the ring before giving it to her. It was the same year she stepped back from her acting career, coinciding with his diagnosis, only known between them.

Though it seemed like an extravagant piece, his father insisted on gifting it to her. “It’s perfect,” he’d said. The ring not only represented their deep love for each other, but also symbolized growth and new beginnings—a celebration of their marriage as it truly deserved.

It made Namjoon reflect on his own marriage. “Mom?” He pauses, wondering if this is an inopportune time to talk about his thoughts.

“What is it, hun?”

He takes a deep breath, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “When you were away for work, did…” He trails off, the words catching in his throat.

She waits patiently, her eyes filled with concern. “…Yes?”

Finally, he musters the courage to continue. “Did you ever think about cheating on dad?”

Her eyes widen, clearly taken aback. “Oh…”

Immediately regretting his question, he backpedals. “Fuck, I’m sorry. That was completely out of line,” he shakes his head, mentally kicking himself. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Despite her initial shock, his mom’s expression softens as she realizes that his recent experiences with Victoria have left him questioning things.

“No, no. That’s...” She clears her throat, composing herself. “It’s a fair question. I understand why you’d ask.”

“No, it was a dumb question. I’m sorry,” Namjoon stutters, his eyes dropping to the floor in embarrassment and regret.

She regards him silently, taking in his pained expression. She thought about her answer carefully, hoping that whatever he says would help him work out his feelings.

“Well,” she begins after a few beats, “when you’re away for long stretches, fatigue and loneliness can set in. One might think that’s a recipe for disaster. But your dad and I were always open about our feelings. I think our constant communication gave us both reassurance and eased much of the loneliness we felt. So, to answer your question—no, cheating never crossed my mind.”

Namjoon found himself questioning every aspect of his relationship. For months, he replayed conversations and actions from the past year, scrutinizing them for any misstep that might have driven his wife to cheat.

“I don’t know Victoria’s reasons, and I don’t care to. You’ve made your decision, and I’m not going to complicate things further.”

He sighs wearily. As you reminded him not so long ago, he didn’t do “complicated.” He avoided the road less traveled and always stayed on course.

“Sometimes I think about the past year, replaying things in my head,“ Namjoon says, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought I was being a good husband—I provided for her, fully supported her career, and never made her feel suffocated. I showed and told her every day how much I loved her.“

He looked up at his mom, who listened to him intently as he poured his heart out.

“I can’t seem to figure out at what point she decided I wasn't enough.“

Her heart breaks watching Namjoon’s broad shoulders slump, his tall frame reduced by the weight of his frustration. She reaches up with her uninjured hand to run her fingers through her second-oldest son’s hair. It’s the first chance she’s had to console him since he revealed his divorce to the rest of the family.

“Namjoon,” she begins softly, “when you love someone long-term, it means witnessing and mourning their many versions. People change, outgrowing their old selves or dreams they once had. It’s normal to miss those old versions and wish they would stick around—because those versions made us happy. We don’t get to choose when or how they change, but we can choose to walk with them and learn to embrace whatever version they decide to be.”

Namjoon gazes at her intently. These were the kind of talks he typically had with his father.

“That sounds like something dad would say,” he says with a gentle smile.

“Oh honey, that was all me,” she says with a playful touch of pride. Turning serious once more, she adds, “Somebody who loves you unconditionally will choose to stick around for all those versions of you.”

Namjoon’s mood turns sullen, suddenly regretting all the years he felt he needed to be angry at his mother.

“I’m sorry for being unfair to you for a long time, eomma. I…” his voice wavers as he’s caught between remorse and resentment toward the women in his life.

His mother wished, at that moment, that she wasn’t dwarfed by his 6-foot-tall frame and she could pick him up and hold him like she used to when he would fall over and bruise himself.

It’s been a long time since Namjoon allowed himself to be this vulnerable in front of her. Since his teen years, he’s been closed off and aloof. But all this time, she’s waited patiently for him to let his guard down.

She cradles his cheek in her hand. “Shh…” she says soothingly. “I want you to know that I have been and will always be here for every version of you.”

He gazed at her with sad eyes. These were times when he typically relied on his father, who was always there to help Namjoon get back on track. For years, his mom had longed for the opportunity to offer that same support.

Without a second thought, she stood and wrapped him in a warm embrace. It marked a turning point in healing their own relationship.

Finding comfort in her arms, he finally lets go of all his pent-up frustration and grief.

After putting the kids to bed, things begin to settle down. Your hangover is finally beginning to dissipate.

You walk downstairs to get a drink of water when you notice the door leading to the backyard is ajar. You go to close it but pause when you see someone sitting on the deck.

You step out and join Taehyung, who looks up from his wine glass, mid-sip.

“Back for more, huh?” You nod at his drink.

He chuckles as you take a seat next to him.

“You know, I didn’t bring an unlimited supply of Advil in my purse,” you joke.

“I know, noona. This is just a little something to help me fall asleep.”

You hum skeptically. “As long as you don’t overdo it. Otherwise, you’ll have to go into mom’s medicine cabinet to get more meds for your hangover.”

He nods, giving a half-hearted smile at your remark, then continues to stare off into the distance.

You study your him for a moment. Despite him joking around today, you know him well enough to recognize when he’s masking his true feelings. It’s clear to you, based on his comment this morning about avoiding your parents’ room, that he’s grappling with something deeper than he’s letting on.

“Do you want to talk?” you ask, your voice soft and encouraging.

His shoulders tense and his gaze drifts downward as your question hangs in the air.

“I don’t know if that would help,” he says quietly.

You were all reeling from your father’s death and dealing with it in different ways, but Taehyung seemed to be taking it the hardest.

“I don’t know either, but there’s no harm in trying, right?”

He doesn’t respond, so you don’t push him. “Or I could just sit here with you until you feel sleepy.”

He chews his bottom lip, wrestling with his thoughts. Finally, he puffs out his cheeks, letting out a long sigh. “I can’t even go into his room,” he says. “I—” His voice cracks, making him curse under his breath.

His pain tears you to pieces. You rub soothing circles on his back, feeling his body tremble with each heart-wrenching sob.

“I wish I could have saved him,” he croaks, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I feel like shit for not doing anything.”

By the time you discovered your dad’s illness, it was already terminal. There was nothing any of you could have done apart from making him feel comfortable and loved during the last few moments of his life.

“We all wished we could have done something, but it was out of our hands,” you say, your eyes brimming with tears at his raw emotion.

“I just…” he choked out, “can’t believe I’m never going to see him again. And I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay with that.”

Coming to terms with your father’s absence would be an uphill battle. Yet, knowing him, he’d be heartbroken to know that he was the reason for your sadness.

Swallowing hard, you gathered your strength to ease your brother’s pain.

“It’s okay not to be okay,” you begin to say, “But you know, we had 30-something years with him. If we were sad all the time, it would be as if those years he gave us meant nothing. The best way to honor his memory is to try our hardest to live well and be happy. And I believe that’s what he would have wanted.”

Taehyung’s tear-filled eyes meet yours. “But that seems so impossible,” he laments softly.

The idea of moving forward and carrying on with life seems unimaginable—and admittedly, it feels that way for you, too.

From this point on, whenever you make one of your dad’s dishes or Taehyung plays one of his records, that wound will reopen, just when you think it has healed.

The pain of loss never truly goes away. There will be dark days and there will be bright days. You learn to coexist with it. Just when you think you’ve made progress, you might find yourself back at square one.

Grieving is an ongoing process and there’s no right or wrong way to do it. What makes it bearable is having people to lean on.

“And that’s when you pick up the phone and call me,” you reply ruefully, “as long as you’ll let me call you when I’m struggling.”

He nods, a hint of a smile crossing his face, as he agrees to be there for each other through the ups and downs. “Of course,” he adds softly, reaching out to give your hand a gentle squeeze.

You wrap your arm around him and pull him close. He instinctively rests his head on your shoulder. Together, you sit and stare at the starry night sky, hoping your father is looking down on you both with pride.

Tagging: @internetjunkdrawer @roaminginthenights @majamarantha @ayoo-bangtan @noelleydances @carriereadsbooks

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#bts fanfiction #namjoon angst #hoseok x reader #hoseok angst #taehyung angst #seokjin angst #bts fanfic #namjoon fanfic #hoseok fanfic #taehyung fanfic #seokjin fanfic

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the-stranger-of-the-hidden-world · 3 hours ago

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Curiously, Stranger watched as he conversed with his mother. She could see that they had their doubts, but it made her happy to see him so upbeat and optimistic about this. Either way, her demonstrating her capabilities to draw made him happy, so that was surely good, right?

Just as Hiccup dashed away towards Toothless, Seabreak nudged Stranger with his stick, pleading at her with his big green eyes and pupils dilated into wide ovals. She couldn't help but snicker, rubbing his face and nuzzling her cheek against his forehead as she purred and crooned to him. Give me a moment. We'll play in a little bit, but...I wanna try to see if we can find a way to talk.

Streak, however, left Sunchaser and Valka's sides to pick up the stick that Stranger had left on the ground, poking Seabreak with it and getting him to play. Now that they were getting used to the environment and they no longer felt overwhelmed and cramped, they could be a bit freer as the brothers started to play fight, trying to hit each other with their sticks. Of course, they weren't quite as good at it as their sister, given that she had thumbs and a proper grip, but they had learned from her.

Hiccup returned and showed her his pencil and sketchbook, items that were completely foreign to her before he then proceeded to draw in it and then show her - and it was her! He drew her!

She couldn't help but smile widely, gently tracing the lines with her fingers as her cheeks creased her eyes. So this was a uniquely human skill she had retained...even after all this time, she still retained her humanness despite being raised by her dragon family. Much of her humanness was a point of shame for Stranger...but not this one. Not now that she realized just how useful it was right now and that it was shared.

Taking it from him, she had an idea. She didn't know how to explain to him who they were or ask who he was...but maybe if she started, maybe he would understand and follow suit.

Sitting back down on the ground as her two brothers continued to chase each other around the cove with sticks, Sunchaser gently padding over to sit beside her and let her lie back against him, he got comfortable on the soft ground. Now that they knew that they were accepted by the alpha and the humans, he wasn't as nervous. Still wary...but able to relax.

Dragons didn't have names for each other in the ways that Stranger did. They had a specific sound that they assigned to one another that sort of functioned as a name, but that was different than the names she assigned to them in her own head - which she more thought of as visual associations rather than words, since she barely knew any. But maybe she could convey as such.

It was a bit more difficult to draw with a pencil on a small sketchbook than it was to draw on sand, but she was slow and careful. Though her pencil sketches were a bit sloppy, holding the pencil a bit like a small child would, she was careful in trying to make her illustrations as clear as possible.

The first was a drawing of a dragon chasing the sun, the familiar shape of a Light Fury dashing after and reaching for the circle in the sky surrounded by fire. She marked the drawing with a small vertical dash to try and convey that he was the first hatched between the three, showing it to the humans and then pointing to her oldest brother laying beside her to try and be as clear as possible. She wasn't sure if she was getting her message across, but she hoped that this would be decent enough of a start to try and get a working method established.

Because if this worked...then they would be able to talk to each other in a language they could both understand.

Hiccup's eyes widened as she repeated his sentence, a wide grin growing on his face. "Hey! Look at that! It's--it's certainly a start!"

Valka wasn't so sure. "Just because she can copy our words doesn't mean she can understand them yet, son..."

"Well, no, but...I see this as a good thing! We can teach her some simple phrases to start, and then move on to bigger things when she's ready!"

Dashing over to Toothless, Hiccup pulled a blank sketchbook out of his saddlebag, and his spare pencil.

Showing it to the woman, he opened it up, doing a quick sketch of her on the first page.

Holding it out to her, he gestured towards the open book. "It's yours now. Take it...use it!"

#dragonmasterhiccup #rp thread #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #httyd oc #httyd rp #httyd #rp #{Stranger}#{Sunchaser}#{Seabreak}#{Streak}

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leslieseveride · 7 months ago

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JUST LOOK HOW WORRIED MY BABYGIRL IS WTH 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#*carly catalogs #the rookie #the rookie s6 #lucy chen #chenford #i can physically feel my heart being squeezed together in my chest GOD!!!!!!!!#WHY ARE THEY DOING THIS TO HER???????????#IS IT 'PICK ON LUCY' SEASON????????????????????????????#BECAUSE MY GIRL CAN'T CATCH THE SLIGHTEST OF BREAKS JESUS FUCKING CHRIST #the whole first part of s6 she was railroaded by the department....#and now she's going through this emotional hell of tim breaking up with her......#even though she was still sticking by his side and never was going to leave.....#and she's still sticking by his side even now.....#OH MY GOD 'ALEXA PLAY I CAN'T STOP LOVING YOU COVERED BY TAYLOR SWIFT'

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aroacettorney · 10 months ago

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dont mind me. im simply just putting together a ludgercasey angst collection.

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#''why cant u be normal abt them'' how can i be normal abt them when solid 80% of their interactions is either angst or stemmed from angst.#even their ''fluff'' moments were also angst.#literally no one does angst like they do.#ludger prefers to keep most of his connections extremely impersonal/professional.#but whether or not he wants to admit it theirs on the other hand simply does not... fit in that category.#he'd even tried to convert it that way but it just didnt stick bc neither of them could help but be themselves around each other lmfao.#ludger is seemly still oblivious to caseys attempt to mend their personal relationship.#which is not too surprising considering he was also oblivious to the existence of their past relationship.#after all there was no reason for him to believe that casey would want to have anything to do with him. except maybe putting him in jail.#so pushing her away seems to be the most logical decision right? personal relationship is a luxury to him anyway.#alas casey who wanted to believe in their past friendship takes it as a sign that ludger has no interest in maintaining it.#she now has to take a step back because ''if you force a relationship it may become more estranged.''#so unless he takes the initiative they are likely stuck in this limbo.#(casey might use impersonal excuses to stay around but rn its all up to ludger to change the nature of their relationship)#casey girlie forget him i would have treated you so much better... is what i would have loved to say.#i wouldnt be suffering this much if ludger wasnt clearly holding himself back most of the time / if it was completely one-sided from casey.#i dont know if this is a slow burn or hurt no comfort but if casey gets no closure im gonna commit arson 😔#aro ludgercasey propaganda #selmore's undercover husband

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bnhaobservation · 2 days ago

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Thank you a lot for contributing to the discussion!

And yes, undoubtedly Quirk counseling is very likely based on the idea of teaching children to show the expected Tatemae, because, according to Japanese people, ‘Deru kui ha utareru’ (出る杭は打たれる “The nail that sticks out must be hammered down”) but in the whole fallout of Quirk counseling there's more than Himiko just behaving in an 'inappropriate way' and needing to learn which is the correct way to act, in fact it ends up being judged a curse by Heteromorphs as well, so I'll say it's also based on racistic pregiudices and the idea of 'impure blood'.

We see that Joki Joki doesn't manage to do something inappropriate with his Quirk, his 'sin' which lead him to being imprisoned is his Quirk was different than the one of his family.

Quirk discrimination started, after all when Quirk owner were accused of being a subbranch of humanity and the 'Meta' people ended up being considered freaks.

My guess is that the Quirk counseling of pre-AFO defeat is still tied to this, to the fact that not only it has to push people to drop 'undesirable' behaviours, but that he pressures who's different by using the idea if they don't conform they're subhumans, freaks, and where it's just impossible to conform (Shouji can't really cut his extra arms for example, nor Shuuichi can not look reptilian) they place in them the idea they are to blame.

Uraraka's new Quirk counseling might be expanded to include also children who instead 'fit the norm', so as to teach them to be more accepting, that the 'tatemae' they've to show toward who's different isn't one that pushes them to run away in disgust but one that accepts the differences.

Also Ochako's words previously implied that Himiko's Quirk wasn't a freak one because since she could share blood with people, she could help with transfusions, like how Eri's Quirk isn't a freak one (even though her mother thought so) because she could heal people, so it can be that the idea is that now Quirk counseling would focus on the positivity of different Quirks as well, not just tell kids they've to hide what's different because it doesn't conform but that their Quirk can do something good if used in this and this way so as to help them find a way to conform not by suppressing themselves but by using their differences positively (it's Himiko's speech at the end, how she could have lived better if she had known she could take and give blood, instead than being told solely she couldn't take it and being left unaware she could give it).

However all of the above are just speculations.

The truth is the series don't explain how exactly Quirk counseling was administered (if to all the class together or to each child in private), if children who had problems with their Quirk could have a level of privacy or if said problems were tossed in the open with a negative judgement attached (completely possible as in Japanese schools teachers often saw bullying as a way to force kids to correct their behaviour) and so on... nor it explains which exactly is the reform Uraraka brought beyond 'expanding' it.

So yes, the fact that western readers might not know about honne and tatemae or how the counseling work in Japan, nor be familiar with ideas of outcasts like eta and hinin makes undoubtedly harder to figure out how Quirk counseling work... but the fact remains that the whole thing with Quirk counseling was pretty vague, as it got mentioned a total of 6 times in the manga (Chap 22, 165, 226, 370, 392 and 460) often without going in deep with it, the last time just praising its expansion without really explaining how this would suddently make it work.

As I said in my post having more cultural knowledge can surely help, but I still think the story would have benefitted of more expansion/development on this side since it's apparently one of the important improvements... but like the whole Heteromorph situation instead it ended up being mostly sidelined so it ended up feeling less impactful... though, of course, that's just me. Again thank you for the contribute!

There something I don’t really get: Uraraka said to have expanded quirk counseling along with her group, but wasn’t that one of the factors that sent Toga spiraling: counseling only be used to push people with certain quirks to be “normal”? I agree on the surface level it’s a noble cause and the closest we got to specific actions being taken by the characters helping to fix society, but if it’s just expanded on and not reformed wouldn’t it just push people like toga feel excluded again since nothing is actually changed in the system? I don’t remember, but did Toga tell Uraraka her time in quirk counseling?

Let's start in reverse.

No, Himiko didn't tell Uraraka about her time with Quirk counseling. If Uraraka figured it out that it was the people in Quirk counseling that tolkd Himiko to stop grinning, kudos to her.

There's to say Curious knew Himiko went to Quirk counseling, so Uraraka might have also discovered about it later. It would be nice if Uraraka tried to learn more about Himiko even after her death.

Now... what's Quirkc counseling and what's wrong with it?

According to Curious:

CURIOUS '“Kosei” COUNSELING', jita rikai no yugami o kyōseishi shakaisei no suri awase o hodokosu jōsō kyōiku (read: PROGRAM). Mochiron, kanpekina PROGRAM de wa naishi, kojinsa o yori tsuyoku kanjite shimau to iu mondai o kakaete imasu. Chi o nomi henshin suru, umaretsuki motsu sono inō ni yotte anata wa “chi” ni tsuyoi kyōmi o hikareru yō ni natta. Shikashi shin no fukō wa “akogare” to iu dareshimo ga daku futsū no kanjō. Chi to akogare kamiatte shimatta nitsu no yōso wa tōtei shakai ni ukeire rareru MONO de wa nakatta. Dakara, anata wa FUTA o shita. Jishin o yokuatsu shi kamen o tsukutta.' キュリオス「『〝個性〟カウンセリング』、自他理解の歪みを矯正し社会性の擦り合わせを施す情操教育（プログラム）。もちろん、完璧なプログラムでは無いし、個人差をより強く感じてしまうという問題を抱えています。血を飲み変身する、生まれつき持つその異能によってあなたは〝血〟に強い興味を引かれるようになった。しかし真の不幸は〝憧れ〟という誰しもが抱く普通の感情。血と憧れ噛み合ってしまった２つの要素は到底社会に受け入れられるモノではなかった。だから、あなたはフタをした。自信を抑圧し仮面を作った。」 Curious "Quirk counseling, it's an emotional education (read: program) to correct distortions in self-understanding and others, and to adjust for socialization. Of course, it's not a perfect program, and it has the problem of making individual differences even more apparent. Your innate ability to transform by drinking blood has made you very interested in "blood". However, your true misfortune is "admiration", a normal emotion that anyone can have. The two elements that go together, blood and admiration, were never going to be accepted by society. So you put a lid on it. You suppressed your confidence and made a mask."

Basically the purpose of Quirk counseling is to help people harmoniously cope with their Quirk and society... but the downside of Quirk counseling is it doesn't really work toward having people accept themselves and be accepted by society, but just tries to remove whatever undesirable trait by suppressing it.

In Himiko's case they told her to stop acting 'abnormal'. I don't know how they handle Heteromorphs but the Heteromorphs have a bone to pick with Quirk counseling as they can't really hide/suppress their appearance.

Now... how expanding it might help something that doesn't work?

It can be that the whole expanding was a typing mistake, early on in chap 22 it was implied all the kids in elementary school receive Quirk counseling, so what does it mean to expand it if all the kids have access to it when they turn 6?

Or it can be that 'expanding' refers to expanding the resources put into Quirk counseling. If more people work at it with more time they might figure out which problems it has and help the children better.

In fact if few resources are put in the program, of course the program will rush to a quick and easy fix that will often not work in the long run. However, if more resources are put in it, people might put more efforts in helping the kids.

Said all this, Quirk counseling was really not well expanded or explained in the story, and mostly tossed in.

It might make sense for Japanese readers as Japanese schools have a counseling program (it seems schools in USA also have it but their own is different) and it turned out this Japanese counseling program needs reform so Japanese readers might see the Quirk counseling program as based on the counseling program of their schools, think it work the same and guess it also have the same problems.

For who's not Japanese, especially if they don't come with a school with a counseling program, the whole thing feels like something Horikoshi tossed in, left it mostly unexplained and generally showed it was bad/poorly working.

We don't see value in it because the story hardly showed us it had value (with Himiko it ruined her, with the Masegaki kids it didn't work, with the Heteromorphs it made them feel worse) so an ending that says 'yay, let's expand it' feels like they want to expand something that makes more harm that good out of nowhere... but again, this might be because we miss the cultural context in which said program is meant to be read.

Still, I really wish Horikoshi had developed it more because while it had potential, it mostly went untapped so it lost it's potential when it got mentioned again at the end of the story.

Thank you for your ask! I love to talk about BNHA! I hope my reply was somewhat of some help!

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cestacruz · 8 months ago

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Mmm Jeanne

#servants cant learn new stuff (i'll talk about jalter in a second) therefore #jeanne shouldnt know how to read or write #we actually Dont get a confirmation that she can do those things in summer 3. because the book that jalter thought jeanne wrote #was actually Her own book #jeanne works with marie. maybe she comes up with the ideas and does rough drawings that marie would be Delighted to bring to life #marie reads to jeanne is my image #jalter taught herself how to read and write and i think that was possible because of the unstability of her existence #if you try to teach jeanne how to read and write it will stick for a second but if like idk 15-20 min pass she would likely find herself #unable to read again and her writting to be suboptimal #she can sign her own name ofc thats historical #she can recite the bible from memory iirc #i love jalter's ability to be her own person even if it comes with the fact that she is very much. an ephemeral dream #like her FCKING SKILL IS CALLED.#WHY MUST YOU HURT ME LIKE THIS FGO #anyway. now jeanne again but physical #oughhh thank u for the support in the tags when i said jeanne should have self image issues because she looked different in life #i hadnt fully talked bout it i just went with hair but yeah. i need to check again because im pretty sure her body wasnt Suuuper different #but i just gotta confirm #but im just so i love the idea of her just not liking the way she manifested abd not knowing Why she manifested like that #when there are Countless depictions of her with her short brown hair #sieg looks to the side whistling (its not his fault but he knows the pseudo servant part #and its probably a mix of . fate apocrypha's manifestation and of how some people imagined jeanne looked like #but it still upsets her #not that she'd ever complain to people #you can probably get it out of her tho #unrelated and only to those who reached this far: im thinking of a singularity set in 15th century orleans in the Middle of the hundred year #war. but the difference aint “oh jeanne d'arc came back to life evil” rather than “there seems to be a battle here where it shouldnt and oh #my god is that jeanne- oh god jeanne d'arc fucking died--#and chaldeas has to try and fix the war without living breathing jeanne d'arc #actually thats not the middle of the 100yearwar but yknow what i mean. also haha jk unless...

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hedgehog-moss · 4 months ago

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Last spring my neighbour asked if I could let Pirlouit mow the grass around his barn from time to time, which Pirou was happy to do at first but if I left him there several days in a row he got pretty sad about being alone (lots of wistful, melancholy braying). So this year when my donkey was hired for this job again, I went for a different formula: for the past few weeks I've been bringing all the animals to the neighbour's barn for an hour of landscaping services now and then at apéritif time.

The fence is extremely not Pampe-proof so I have to have my apéritif while sitting on the road in a strategic position from which I can toss a stick in her direction if she tries to escape, but other than that I've been really enjoying this peaceful evening ritual, just sitting there reading and watching the animals while feeling like I'm doing my neighbour a favour. Pirlouit doesn't get all the grass to himself anymore but I've learnt that he prefers to be rich in friends than in food.

You'll notice that Merricat is present in every photo, looking alert. She too has been hired, but for the thankless job of Thought Police. She may look like she's just napping on the warm asphalt with not a care in the world...

... but she is working! Keeping an eye on the llamas, always.

I've discovered that in a specific context my three cats can act as precogs and warn me of Pampe's future crimes. My theory is that they developed this skill because of Poldine, who loves cats. Any cat who enters the pasture will soon be noticed and (lovingly) chased by Poldine, who wants kisses. Cats not only do not want llama kisses, they don't differentiate between individual llamas. They are all potential kissers. So even if it looks like she's all relaxed, Merricat is constantly monitoring where the llamas are and what they seem to be planning. If we are on the other side of a fence and Pampe approaches it a bit too slyly, Merricat will jump to her feet, ready to flee (and I will toss one of my anti-Pampe sticks, and say NON.)

Merricat and I are a very good team! We've foiled several of Pampe's plots, but we need to be on the road for Merricat to remain wary (if we were in the pen Pampe's escape attempts would involve getting away from us and the cat wouldn't care.) Cars are rare so it's okay (plus it's so quiet you can always hear them coming), and on the few occasions when someone showed up and asked why I was having apéritif on the road, I pointed at Pampe and they were like, "Ah! Didn't see her here. Good luck!"

"Hedgehog-moss, you're exaggerating. Pampe can't be that—"

She is! She is. And she always seems to notice when Merricat is on a bathroom break and I'm absorbed in a book.

There was one evening though, when she got distracted by a fascinating new idea. I don't claim to know what's going on in this llama's head (except when she's looking at a fence, then it's easy) but as you can see, once I brought the animals to the barn Poldine started eating flowers, Pirlouit started eating grass, and Pampe started eating the wall.

After a moment she slowly circled the barn, then stopped and lay down right next to it, settling down in a comfortable position but with focused ears and her head still turned towards the wall. It was suspicious behaviour, but on the other hand she now looked so uninterested in the road that I decided to take a risk and run home to bring back some dinner—and she didn't move while I was away! I even brought Pandolf, who is usually banned from these soirées because he would disturb my Merricat alarm system. He was happy to be finally included.

It's unclear if Pampe was eating the wall, talking to the wall, or carefully examining various parts of the wall as Step 1 of 27 of a complex plan only she understands, but she stuck close to the barn all evening instead of lying in wait by the fence so I was able to have a picnic in the grass rather than on the road, which felt more bucolic. I know that "Pampérigouste has a new, mysterious project" is a worrying sentence but at this early stage (feasibility study) it felt to me and Merricat like a little holiday!

#crawling along #if you look at the Pampe & The Wall photos you can see the adorable little goatee i gave poldine when i sheared her <3 #it suits her she looks very elegant

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gothgoblinbabe · 3 months ago

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Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Warnings: ( MDNI 18+) neighbor!reader,fem reader, Logan’s kinda rude for a lil’ bit, neighbors to frenemies to lovers? Idk, alcohol consumption (nothing 18+ happens while anyone is intoxicated), swearing, i can’t write Wade’s witty dialogue for shit pls bear w me, implied age gap, unprotected sex (wrap it up I beg of you), poking fun at the Kardashians a little, swearing and I think that’s it, but pls lmk if I missed any!

Summary: You have a little too much to drink one night in Wade's living room, resulting in an indirect confession that Logan absolutely hears through the thin drywall of his bedroom. Wade then ditches your usual weekend plans in an attempt at playing cupid - and it may just be the best favor he's ever done for you.

Word Count: 8K (get comfy bitch)

divider credit here and here

Being Wade Wilson’s best friend and neighbor included two main components:

Watching trash TV and getting drunk every other weekend - usually at the same time - and Wade wasn’t going to let his new roommate's attitude ruin it in the slightest.

“She’s gonna be here any minute and if you don’t pull the stick out of your ass and be nice, I'm going to lock you in your room like a sad, lonely dog.”

Logan only grunted in response, sipping his drink in the doorway and watching him run around the living room to make the place look livable.

He’d only moved in a couple weeks ago and Wade had been trying to introduce you both - inviting you over when he knew Logan had no plans - but every time, he was out the door before you were even opening yours across the hall. He’d try everything he could to avoid meeting new people, fearful that any type of real connection with someone would be ripped out from under him just like it had been many times before.

Wade huffed in satisfaction when he was done moving a few things around, standing in front of Logan with his hands on his hips.

“I mean it, kitty cat. She’s a sweet girl - keep the claws in.”

“Told you to stop callin’ me that.”

“Too bad, so sad, kitty.”

As Logan was considering puncturing three evenly spaced holes in both sides of Wade’s chest, they were both interrupted by a knock on the front door.

You were on the other side, of course, a twelve pack of beer under your arm. You rocked back and forth on your heels while you patiently waited for Wade to let you in. You did kind of hope you’d maybe get to meet his new roommate this time - it was a little odd that he was never there when you were.

He answered the door after a second, placing a hand over his heart dramatically when he saw the beer in your arms.

“For me? Aw, sugar, you shouldn't have,” he sighed as he took the box from your arms, ushering you inside.

“Did I have a choice?” you joked back, kicking off your shoes.

You followed him into the living room only to stop in your tracks.

Logan stood near the couch in his sweatpants, looking like he’d been dragged into the middle of the room to be put on display. He did reluctantly agree to stay for a second and finally let him introduce you so he could sulk back to his bedroom and nurse a bottle of whiskey till he fell asleep.

“Well, there he is,” Wade said in a lackluster tone, “now, he is house trained, but he does bite occasionally - “

“Fuck off.”

His deep voice surprised you a bit, unintentionally raising your eyebrows with your gaze still on him.

“ I'm Logan.”

You nodded politely and introduced yourself, shoving your hands in your pockets nervously. He was tall, definitely a good couple years older than you and incredibly handsome, all of which made your stomach erupt into butterflies.

And Logan did not like the way you were looking at him.

He’d seen it more times than he could count on the faces of every pretty young thing that tried to take him home from the bar, batting their eyelashes at him and laying hands on him like it would be persuasive in any way. It never worked, as his dismissive attitude sent a clear message. He couldn’t be bothered to take any of them up on their offers and wasn’t interested in fulfilling some fantasy they had about being with an older man. He didn’t think much about stuff like that anyway, avoiding any chance of vulnerability and attachment to someone he was sure he’d eventually lose.

And you still had that look on your face.

“Night.”

With that, Logan disappeared down the hallway to his room and shut the door.

“He’s not much of a talker,” Wade assured you, “probably for the best.”

From then on, you’d occasionally see Logan come out of his room while you were over - getting something from the kitchen, doing his laundry, coming and going - and each time you had to feign complete disinterest. Wade had quickly taken notice of how you tried to keep your head down every time Logan entered the room to hide your pink cheeks and - naturally - there was no way for him to be quiet about it.

When Logan came out of the bathroom one time with a towel around his waist and dripping wet hair as you and Wade sat at the kitchen island, your best friend was more than eager to run his mouth.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t do that to her!” he exclaimed, gesturing towards you, “you’re practically dangling meat in front of a starving dog - poor girl.”

You had your face buried in your hands with your elbows on the counter, wishing more than anything that you could sink into the chair and through the floor.

“God, shut up.”

Your voice was muffled by your hands but he still heard you.

“And put a stop to my job as cupid?”

Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning towards his bedroom. He’d seen the way your eyes widened the second he’d opened the door, traveling all the way from his bare shoulders to the trail of hair that dipped under the towel. You’d turned pink almost immediately. It would have been something he’d found cute maybe a couple decades ago, before the very last bit of his naivety had faded away. Now, it was just infuriating to him. He could try to drop every hint on earth that he wasn't interested (which for him, just meant avoiding you completely) and you still looked at him like a lovesick schoolgirl.

This weekend came along like every other, texting Wade back and forth about snack options and finally getting up to shuffle across the hall with a bag of chips.

He answered the door as usual, ushering you in. You plopped yourself down on the couch and kicked your slippers off, clad in sweatpants and a tank top. He sat beside you and you propped your legs up on his lap, snatching the TV remote from the coffee table to flip through channels. You heard what you assumed was Logan’s bedroom door open down the hall, keeping your eyes glued to the TV.

“Peanut! Care to join?” Wade exclaimed as he watched his roommate enter the open kitchen, digging around in the fridge.

You still didn’t tear your gaze from the screen.

“Hell no.”

That wasn’t much of a surprise.

“Your loss!” Wade reached for the pack of beer on the table, offering one that you gladly accepted, “but don’t bother us, keeping up with the kardashians is incredibly important.”

“Uh - huh.”

Logan disappeared again in seconds and Wade shook his head.

You focused back on the TV screen.

“So, how many minutes into the episode do you think one of them is going to start a fight?”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Hours and many beers later, you were on the floor with your knees to your chest between the couch and coffee table as you tried to stifle your giggling. Wade was laid on the couch, no better off than you.

“Hey - hey, I wanna ask you somethin’,” his voice became a little serious, but he still had a shit eating grin on his face, “what are you into Logan for anyway?”

You dreaded the question, groaning and closing your eyes.

“Seriously! I mean, I’ve been here the entire time - “

“Wade.”

He looked at you expectantly, awaiting a response.

You contemplated your answer for a moment, your filter diminishing more and more with every sip of beer, “God, I don’t know, he’s - he’s jus’ big.”

You were snickering behind the beer bottle you drunkenly held in front of your face in an attempt to hide.

“I don’t think he’s that impressive. You know, he’s got small feet - tiny, like a child.”

That had you both doubled over, trying to muffle your laughs with your hands and the throw pillows strewn on the floor.

“Stop, stop - ” you choked out when you finally caught your breath, wacking him on the arm.

“Okay but really, what is it? I know you, you’re not into beefcakes,” he laughed and shook his head.

You sighed, not really thinking for even a second before you started speaking again.

“He’s older and he’s hot -”

“And completely cold and dismissive towards you.”

You rolled your eyes at his interruption but still nodded, “yeah - yes, but that’s not my point.”

Wade took another sip of his beer and motioned for you to continue talking.

“He, uh - ” you tried to bite down a giggle, your face turning pink, “I don’t know, I think he’d be good in bed.”

That made him sit forward on the couch, his mouth open in surprise, “I knew it! I knew you were a horny freak!”

“Am not!” you picked a pillow up from the floor and launched it at his face, “I’m allowed to be, anyway!”

“Whatever,” he caught the pillow in his hands, “I'm on operation ‘Cupid’ and I have never quit a mission, cupcake. So, what about him makes you think that? Is it because he's a hundred and eighty - something years older than you? He’s probably been passed around the block like a wh - “

“Okay,” you cut him off, cringing at the thought, “ I think I got the picture.”

Your mind began to wander again about Logan and you narrowed your eyes in thought, staring at nothing.

“What’cha thinkin’, honey bun?”

Wade's voice cut through your concentration and you shrugged, a smile creeping onto your face.

“Oh no,” he started, stretching the vowel, “you’re having a sex fantasy right now, I can see it on your face - disgusting. Tell me more.”

“What, you want details?” You laughed, giving up on trying to hide it if Wade could already read you like an open book. You were both terribly honest with each other - almost to a fault.

“Not the full middle-aged-white-women erotica novel version,” he answered, “I can accept cliff notes.”

You thought for a moment, going down the mental list you’d made of all the assumptions you had about the older roommate that you rarely ever saw.

“He’s gotta have a huge dick. Like, massive.”

Wade nearly spit out his beer but nodded for you to continue.

“I’d let him, like - like,” you were giggling between words as you tried to form a sentence, “ fuckin’ rearrange my guts.”

That did make Wade spit his beer, which set off a train of uncontrollable laughter that you both tried to stifle.

Still, throw pillows and hands over your mouths were not as effective as you believed.

Logan’s eyes fluttered open, squinting in the dark. The digital clock on his nightstand read ‘2:24 am’ in red LEDs. He closed his eyes again and tried to drift back to sleep, only to be jolted up by the sound of the two of you laughing obnoxiously from the living room.

“For fuck’s sake,” he mumbled to himself, getting up to walk towards his door so he could tell you both to keep it quiet. As his hand touched the knob, he halted when he heard your voice.

“He’s probably good at eating pussy. He’d be like an animal - “

Logan was stuck in place, his eyes narrowed. Who the hell were you talking about?

“Can we go back to the rearranging guts thing? ‘Cause I have to tell you, sister - he’s made of metal and he’ll really do it.”

That couldn’t be about him. He refused to believe you two were actually talking about him like that in the next room.

“I’d let him,” he could hear you snickering.

“Is this a daddy issues thing? The ‘I can fix him’ maneuver?”

“I didn’t say I wanted to fix him, I said I wanted to fuck him.”

If this was about some guy, Logan should be relieved; thankful that you’d found a new target of infatuation. He should be relieved, but he was gripping the door knob like he was going to break it off.

Wade’s voice broke through his thoughts, “you’re lucky Logan’s not much into relationships, then.”

So you were talking about him.

Your voice echoed in his head, your words cementing themselves into his brain.

On the living room floor, you were chucking pieces of popcorn into Wade's direction, trying to land one in his open mouth.

“Hey,” he started after catching a piece between his teeth and eating it, “if you do end up in Wolvies bed? Pics or it didn’t happen.”

You gasped and nearly chucked your empty bottle at his head, deciding against it when you remembered Logan was asleep in the other room.

Logan was in the other room.

Just as you were about to panic to Wade about Logan overhearing your foul-mouthed and horny drunk rambling, you both heard the click of his door coming unlocked and the creak of the hinges. He appeared at the doorway in a beater and pajama pants, his hair sticking up in every direction. Truthfully, he looked cute.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you. It’s two in the morning.”

Adorable, even.

“Oopsie! Sorry, Peanut. We had very important things to discuss,” Wade replied.

Without another word, Logan shut his door again and you and Wade sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“Do you think he heard me?” you whispered, grimacing.

“We’ll find out.”

With that, you both decided to call it a night and you returned to the familiar comfort of your apartment.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The next morning, Wade was up far earlier than his roommate, as usual. He sat on the couch with his feet on the coffee table, turning his head when he heard Logan’s door open.

“Sleeping beauty! So kind of you to bless me with your presence. What’s the occasion?”

“Breakfast.”

“Technically it would be lunch, peanut.”

Logan was facing the pantry in the kitchen and Wade could still feel the anger radiating off him.

Ignoring his seething silence, Wade began to speak again, “you didn’t happen to overhear any conversations last night, did you?”

Logan was facing him again, pouring cereal into a bowl and speaking without looking away from it, “you mean the one where your little friend said she wanted to fuck me? Yeah, I heard enough of it to get the jist.”

Wade had a gleeful look plastered on his face as he turned in his seat, “so you’re gonna take her up on the offer, right?”

“That wasn’t an offer, and besides,” Logan was shoveling cereal into his mouth, “ ‘m not interested.”

“See, you say that, Peanut, and yet you just have to come out here at least once while she’s over.”

Logan was glaring daggers into his skull.

“I live here.”

The younger of the two clicked his tongue, turning his attention to the TV screen, “All I'm saying is that she’s our neighbor, she's a sweetheart, she is single and has a job and an apartment all to herself, dude. Bone city.”

“Ew.”

“Think about it.” “Don’t need to.”

As Logan scarfed down the rest of his breakfast and put the bowl in the sink, Wade was already typing furiously in his messages to create a plan.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Another week rolled by, meaning it was time to get hammered and make fun of the Kardashians again. You held your breath waiting for Wade to answer the door, anxiously picking at your fingernails.

He opened the door and ushered you in like any other time, except he was dressed to go out instead of the usual PJ attire.

“What, are you leaving me for a hot date?” you teased, dropping the snacks you brought onto the kitchen island.

“Yes!”

You furrowed your eyebrows and frowned, awaiting his explanation.

“I’ve got a date with Vanessa, but - “

Logan emerged from his room, navigating his way to the kitchen as if neither of you were there.

“Peanut! So glad you decided to join us! Hey - “ Wade tapped the kitchen island, motioning for him to come over so he could talk to you both at the same time.

“Okay - I have a date with Vanessa tonight, so I need you,” he motioned between the two of you, “to get along.”

You were about to interrupt, insist that you can just reschedule, but it was as if he’d read your mind.

“You’re already here, cupcake, just stay and chill out. And you - “ he turned completely towards Logan, “you’re going to be nice like I asked you. Do you think you’ll survive?”

Logan was staring at him, unblinking with a scowl on his face.

“You, uh, you don’t have to sit with me,” you mumbled to him, forcing him to finally acknowledge your presence.

He’d half expected it to be your idea as much as it was Wade’s - some kind of ploy to get him alone - but you weren’t jumping at the chance, trying to be touchy-feely with him, begging him to stay.

He almost wished you would.

He cleared his throat and looked back to Wade, “I'm not gonna babysit your friend.”

“Who said I needed a babysitter?” you chimed in.

They both turned to you to watch you slam the top of a beer bottle on the edge of the countertop, sending the metal top flying somewhere into the living room.

“We have a bottle opener in the drawer,” Wade sighed in defeat, ”anyway - you don’t need to babysit her, I'm just saying she doesn’t bite and It would be uncool to leave her all alone.”

“Aren’t you the one leaving?” you asked, taking a sip of your beer.

“Not the point,” he answered, grabbing his jacket from the coat stand as he walked towards the front door, “play nice, don’t eat anything in the fridge with my name on it and there’s condoms in my nightstand!”

He opened and shut the door, leaving the both of you in awkward silence. Logan’s face was actually red, a mix between rage and mild embarrassment.

“He’s a dick,” you muttered, trying to make some kind of small talk, only to be met again with silence. You sighed, going to the couch and picking up the remote. You finally made yourself look Logan in the eyes, your cheeks burning uncontrollably when he never broke his stare.

“Listen - it’s fine, I get it, you’re like…the lone wolf,” you laughed a little to yourself, having to divert your eyes to the fabric of the couch, “I’m not gonna burst into tears if you don’t sit with me.”

He was a little taken back by your bluntness, though it was refreshing. He figured you’d be pink in the face - practically begging him to stay - but you weren’t. You pretended you couldn’t give less of a shit with your eyes now glued to the TV. You were as cool as you could act on the outside, but you nearly lost that cool when he spoke again.

“I can sit for a bit,” he shuffled over to the couch, settling himself down next to you. If you weren’t gonna be all over him like he thought you would, he could withstand a couple episodes of whatever the hell you and Wade had been watching. He didn’t dislike you, really - just terrified of the possibility of intimacy. You were pretty, and from what he’d overheard now and then, you were funny too. He liked the way the smell of your body wash and perfume flooded the apartment whenever you’d stop by and how you’d always bring some leftovers to be sure both of them had eaten - leftovers of which the roommates would always get into a spat over - usually because Logan ate it all before Wade could even see what was in the container.

Unfortunately for Logan, he began to enjoy you being around.

You could feel your stomach tie itself in knots when he sat beside you but nodded in acknowledgment, flipping through TV channels. You settled on the Kardashians again, tossing the remote on the table.

“This is the shit you guys watch, huh?” he teased, grabbing a beer from the pack Wade left behind.

You smiled a little to yourself, noticing how he was slowly getting more comfortable with you, “mhm, top tier - wait till you see one of them talk, it’s like watching an alien.”

You actually pulled a miniscule of a laugh out of him and your heart nearly skipped a beat at the sound.

As the show went on and you both made snarky commentary at just about everything, you felt more and more like you were just hanging out with Wade - comfortable and casual, except for the way your face burned up every time he stretched and his white beater rode up his stomach.

“So,” you began as the episode ended, “thoughts? Opinions?”

He was looking between you and the screen, thinking hard, “I don’t get it.”

You shrugged, “me neither, to be honest, but god is it funny to watch rich people lose their shit sometimes.”

He chuckled again at your response, placing his empty bottle on the table next to yours.

It was silent for a moment, the air tense with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“What do you usually watch on TV?” you asked, intending to flip the channel to whatever he may be interested in - if he had to sit through Keeping Up with The Kardashians, it was only fair.

“Nothin’, really,” he answered, his eyes moving from the screen to rest on you, like a heavy weight on your chest.

“Do you even watch TV?” you asked, the both of you having abandoned the idea of trying to find something else to watch and just letting it play in the background.

“Nah,” he shrugged, his arms crossed against his chest, “ I don’t do much of anything.’

You could tell his answer was earnest and you frowned a bit, swinging your legs up on the couch and turning to face him completely, “nothing? There has to be something.”

He was unsure about how close you were to him now, your knees to your chest as you looked at him expectantly. He thought he’d be met with that look - the one you kept giving him in passing that he hated so much - but your face was neutral, waiting patiently for him to respond. Truthfully, he didn’t hate the look itself - or you, for that matter - but hated how it made him feel.

As if there were some sliver of hope for a future worth living through.

He cleared his throat, turning his body towards you on the couch, “I work out, sometimes - “

‘’Yeah, clearly’’, you wanted to say.

“Other than that,” he continued, “I don’t know, the bar - sometimes I'll let Wade drag me out somewhere but I usually leave after half an hour.”

“Huh, so you really are by yourself a lot,” you realized aloud.

Logan never thought it sad until he heard it from your mouth.

“I like it that way, most of the time,” he shrugged.

“I can tell - took you two weeks to finally say hello. I think this is the most I've ever heard your voice, actually.”

He realized you were right and did feel a little bad, “I’m sorry about that, by the way. I just don’t like meeting new people.”

“Me neither.”

It was silent then - save for the TV - either one of you waiting for the other to explain just why that is. You figured it would be easier if you went first.

“I never really had a lot of friends growing up. I had a hard time in school and a lot of the other kids didn’t like me. It was just tough to make friends, especially because - “

You stopped, thinking over what details to include and what to leave out.

“Because?” Logan prompted and you sighed, biting back a giggle.

“Because I was goth. I don’t mean I just dressed in black - I mean I wore white face paint and huge boots and ate lunch in the art room.”

That actually pulled a real fucking laugh out of him and you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

“I’m not laughing ‘cause you were goth, that's not weird” he clarified, “I'm laughing because I just can’t picture it.”

You didn’t embrace the style as much as you used to, trading Siouxsie Sioux makeup for reading glasses and teased hair for your natural texture.

“I’ll bring over my highschool yearbook sometime,” you chuckled, shaking your head.

Realizing it was now his turn to speak, he readjusted himself in his seat and cleared his throat, visibly becoming a little uncomfortable.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, you know,” you reminded him gently, giving a soft smile.

It only made it harder for Logan that you were so damn nice.

He tentatively explained the timelines, the different versions everyone has of themselves, how he’d gotten there. You hung on his every word, unintentionally giving him a sympathetic look when he had finished explaining.

“So…you were just alone after all that?” your voice was soft, worry clear in your tone.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “yeah, yeah.. ‘till I met Wade, obviously.”

You gave him a small smile, “you’ll never be alone again, you know.”

For some reason, the unfamiliar comfort made his stomach turn and he simply shook his head, “Yeah, I'm never gonna be able to get rid of him.”

That made you giggle, nodding in agreement.

“You can try, but he will always find you - like a determined cockroach.”

That got the both of you and you’d never seen Logan smile that way - though, to be fair, you never saw much of his face anyway.

The version of you that sat on the couch across from him was far from who he thought you were. He felt guilty now for assuming things just from looking at you, but it was a habit he had yet to shake. It was clear you were beautiful - that was never a question - but talking with you made him realize just how much he may have missed out by keeping himself so closed off. You laughed at almost every joke he had made, comforted him when he was nothing but rude and always checked up on him and Wade. You smelled so nice, your hair looked so soft and he almost found himself wanting to reach over and run his fingers through it. In his eyes, you seemed to be everything he was not; all of the best qualities he believed he didn't possess.

“Oh, hey - do you want some popcorn? I brought the microwave kind, I keep telling Wade to get it himself and he never does,” you snapped him out of his trance and stood from the couch, already walking to the kitchen.

“Uh, sure,” he found himself getting up to follow you, not wanting to pause a moment of conversation.

You tossed the bag in the microwave and hit the button, leaning yourself against the counter. Logan leaned himself besides you, significantly taller. You’d held your composure so far, but having him so close and realizing just how much bigger he was made your heart beat like a rabbit’s.

“So, you never asked about the mutant thing,” He spoke over the popping, looking down at you and waiting for the twenty questions.

You only shrugged, “I figured If you wanted to tell me, you’d tell me. I wasn’t gonna interrogate you about it. Plus, Wade told me.”

“Of course he did,” Logan scoffed, “I’m afraid to know what exactly it was that he told you.”

“You’ve got adamantium instead of bones,” you replied matter of factly, “and you’ve got claws. I mean, I’ve never seen them, but that's what he told me.”

He thought for a minute, stepping in front of you a little. He was about arm-length away, putting enough distance between you both that he was sure he wouldn’t accidentally knick you.

In a second, the adamantium claws protruded from between his knuckles, glistening in the kitchen light. You flinched for only a second, leaning in to inspect them.

“Woah,” you muttered, bringing a finger up to the very end of one of them and letting it poke you, “cool.”

He was a bit confused by your calm demeanor, but relieved by it anyway. It was never a good time when someone had a bad reaction to the claws. The microwave beeped and he retracted them, stepping out of your way. You opened it and held the scolding bag with two fingers, realizing you needed a bowl to put it in.

“Logan, can you grab a-”

You felt one hand on your hip and could see his other reach above you, opening a cabinet you couldn't and handing you a bowl. Your back was almost flush to his chest, making you feel warm all over. He reluctantly pulled away from you and you cleared your throat, shaking the popcorn into the bowl.

He watched you from where you stood, taking in the curve of your waist and hips and realizing he was in much more trouble than he’d originally thought. He’d heard your drunken giggling about him - heard you vulgarly talk about how good you think he’d be at giving head - but he was still thinking it over with his bottom lip between his teeth. He finally broke the silence that filled the room.

“You know, the claws aren’t the only thing abnormal about me.”

“Mm, no?” you laughed a little with your back still turned to him. You could feel that your face was hot.

“Heightened senses,” he said simply, “hearing and smell, mostly.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Like right now, I can hear your heartbeat.”

Your eyes went wide and you practically froze in place.

“It’s fast.”

His voice was closer.

“Really fast,” his breath was in your ear, his hands coming to rest on your waist, “got even faster when I pointed it out.”

You swallowed hard, knowing very well there was no way to lie to him.

“Jus’ nervous sometimes. It doesn’t mean anything,” you exhaled, attempting to still your shaking hands.

“Mhm,” he hummed, his deep voice reverberating through your chest because of his proximity, “what about the other night, though?”

You narrowed your eyes and turned to finally face him, nearly chest to chest.

“What are you talking about?”

You knew exactly what he was talking about - you just hoped it wasn’t what you thought.

His hands were on the counter behind you, boxing you in.

“C’mon,” he looked at you expectantly with a shit eating smirk on his face, “what made you think I’d be good at eating pussy, anyway?”

You were red with embarrassment, pulling your hands up to cover your face, but Logan caught your wrists gently and clicked his tongue.

“Pretty girl, it’s alright - “

His gruff voice calling you such a sweet nickname nearly made your knees buckle.

“I can smell how wet you get, you know that?”

One of his hands moved to hold you by your throat, barely using any pressure.

“F-Fuck off,” you managed to mutter, stuttering when he pushed one of his thighs inbetween yours. This was nowhere near what you pictured happening when Wade dumped you in his living room with a guy who would barely even look at you.

He chuckled, his other hand pushing on the small of your back to pull you closer into him.

“Yeah? I don’t think you really want me to, sweetheart. Besides, you didn’t answer my question.”

You could barely think, nevermind answer whatever it was he had asked. You were almost nose to nose, Logan craning his neck down a bit to level his face with yours.

“I, um,” your breathing was shaky, “fuck, I don’t know - I jus’ think about it a lot.”

“Me too,” he admitted before crashing his lips to yours, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of your head. It was truthful - he’d probably thought of you every day since the night he heard you talk about him like that.

You couldn’t help moaning into his mouth when he kissed you, letting him slip his tongue past your lips. His hands roamed down your back and to your ass, using his grip to rock your hips over his thigh.

“So beautiful,” he whispered as he moved down your jaw and neck, kissing and biting at the soft skin, “drove me crazy, hearing you say those things.”

“How much - how much did you hear?” you tried to ask, overwhelmed by his teeth grazing your neck. Your hands rested against his chest - as if you were going to push him away - but you never did.

You felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin, “heard enough.”

“And what exactly was that?”

If he was going to tease, you might as well bite back.

He pulled away momentarily to look in your eyes, knowing damn well he already had you where he wanted you.

“You don’t want to fix me, you want to fuck me, right?”

Your own words sounded so much hotter coming out of his mouth.

“Mhm,” was all you could manage to get out, too focused on the feeling of him pushing and pulling your hips over his thigh.

“Huh? Use your words, sweetheart.”

There was something about the affectionate nicknames he was using in contrast to the filthy way he was trying to push you down even harder on his thigh that made you lightheaded.

“Yeah - yes, I want to,” you practically whined.

That was all the confirmation he needed to hoist you up onto the counter with his hands on your ass. He was kissing you hungrily, his fingers hooking around the straps of your tank top to let them fall down your shoulders. You didn’t waste any time in breaking the kiss momentarily to strip yourself of the garment, tossing it to the kitchen floor.

“Fuck, jesus christ,” He groaned at the sight of your bare chest and immediately brought his large hands up to massage your breasts. A chill went down your spine when he leaned down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue. Your hands were threaded through his hair, tugging every so slightly when he would pull his mouth off you with a popping sound. The majority of your chest was glistening with his spit when he finally brought his mouth to yours again, leaving a clear coating over the developing hickies that he left. You tugged at the hem of Logan's white beater to signal that you wanted it off. He did as you pleased, leaving plenty of skin for you to run your hands over.

“Been thinking of you, all spread out of me,” he murmured in between kisses. He used his grip on your ass to grind you against him, his hard cock pressing against you. The pressure from it was enough for your pussy to start aching.

“I wanna know what you taste like,” he continued, holding your chin to tilt your head up, “can I find out?”

You nodded frantically and nearly choked on your own spit. You lifted your hips to let him strip you of your pants and underwear, leaving you completely bare on the counter in front of him.

You felt vulnerable, pressing your knees together only to have Logan use his hands to spread them apart.

“Uh-uh,” he clicked his tongue, “let me see your pretty pussy.”

He got on his knees on the kitchen floor, hooking his arms around your thighs and settling his face between them. He nipped at the hot skin of your inner thighs and you inadvertently tugged his hair every time he did so. He finally laid his tongue flat against you and you whined, the sound echoing through the kitchen. He was sloppy, practically drooling into your cunt and using it to lubricate his fingers so he could slip them into you. Your theory from before was proven right; he was kind of animalistic when he ate you out.

He was curling his fingers as he thrusted them in and out, sucking on your clit at the same time. You gasped when he spoke with his mouth still buried in your cunt.

“Tastes so fucking good.”

Your ankles were locked to keep his head between your thighs, leaning yourself back against the wall.

“Jesus christ, Logan - “ you whined, cut off when he growled into you.

“Mhm, ‘feels good, baby?”

You only nodded, unable to communicate with how deep he was curling his fingers into you. He continued to mumble praises against your cunt, amused by how much it clearly spurred you on.

“This is all mine, huh? Know you wanted it, could smell how bad you needed me every time you were over.”

You could feel the pressure in your lower stomach start to build.

“You’re so wet for me, such a good girl - makin’ such a fucking mess.”

It wasn’t long before you were pulling him back by his hair.

He reluctantly detached himself, looking up at you with concern. His mouth and chin were wet, his tongue peeking out to lick his lips.

“What’s wrong? You okay?”

“ ‘m fine, just - I was close -”

He groaned in a way that almost sounded annoyed, diving his tongue back into you, “C’mon, do it, then - come for me, pretty girl.”

His praise was enough to trigger your orgasm and you couldn’t help rocking your hips against his face as you rode it out. You were cursing, tears starting to form in your eyes when he didn’t let up.

“L-Logan, fuck,” you cried. You could’ve pulled him off, told him it was too much, but he was so determined and skilled in the way he flicked his tongue that the discomfort of overstimulation dissipated into pleasure within seconds.

“One more for me, baby, one more. Think you can?”

You were moaning so loud at that point that you tried to bring a hand to your mouth to muffle the sound but Logan caught your wrist and brought it back to his hair, encouraging you to keep tugging and pulling.

Your second orgasms approached hard and fast, tears rolling down your cheek. Your legs shook uncontrollably as he finally sat back on his heels.

When you caught your breath, he pulled himself up to slide his arms around your lower back and plant a kiss on your forehead, wiping your wet cheeks.

“Can I take you to the bed?”

You nodded and smiled wide, leaning up to kiss him.

He effortlessly carried you through the hallway and into his bedroom, your bare chest pressed against his. The second your back hit his mattress, his cellphone started to ring from his bedside table.

You watched Logan furrow his eyebrows and reach for the phone. He read the caller ID and bore an amused smile, switching it to silent.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, wrapping your arms around him when he came to hover above you.

“It’s Wade,” he chuckled to himself, “probably calling to see if everythings alright.”

That made you giggle, “yeah, we can tell him we’re doing just fine.”

“I’ll call him later.”

His lips were on yours again, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you as he pinned you to the bed with his hips. You slid your hands from his neck, down his back and around the front of his waist to rest on his belt buckle. Your fingers made quick work of the metal fastener and you tugged the leather from his jeans. He stood up off the bed for a moment to strip himself of the rest of his clothing. When his cock sprung up from his boxers and hit his stomach, you almost had to choke back a gasp. Again, you were proven right - he was huge. He crawled back between your legs and positioned himself on top of you.

“You’re okay with this?”

If anyone told you maybe two hours earlier that you’d end up under Wade’s grumpy roommate, your chest heaving from the anticipation of finally having him slot into you, you would’ve called them crazy. Now, however, it was a reality - one you would’ve gladly spent the rest of your life in.

You realized he was holding back, gripping the sheets next to your head and waiting for a definite answer.

You nodded and scratched at the back of his neck affectionately. He guided himself into you and you groaned at the feeling of his tip alone.

“ ‘s okay?”

Logan was practically slurring his words with how hard he had to hold himself back. Your warm chest to his, your thighs locked around his waist, the way you smelled; it was all overwhelming in the best way possible.

“So good,” you whined, trying to push your hips up to encourage him to go even deeper, “want all of it, please, please.”

He was chewing on his lip when he finally let himself fill you completely in one thrust. You dug your fingernails into his back, leaving scratches that healed themselves within seconds. He let out a guttural moan with his face buried in your neck, concentrating on trying to build a steady rhythm without finishing things too fast. He propped himself up on his elbows on either side of you as he tentatively rocked in and out.

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, a hand coming up to wipe the sweat dampened hair from your flushed face. It was so sweet, so intimate; nothing you’d ever really expected with or from him.

“You're handsome,” you managed to reply, amused by how taken back he seemed by the compliment, “perfect.”

He couldn’t remember the last time someone called him that - handsome, definitely never perfect - while actually looking at him like they meant it. Your eyes were trained on the features of his face, attempting to memorize every line and wrinkle; every bit of him that made him Logan. Your eyes felt to him like they could burn right through the wall he’d managed to construct.

Still, he instinctively scoffed as he hovered over you. He was never good at accepting compliments.

“I’m not the lying type, you know,” you assured him, whispering in his ear as he continued at a steady pace, “besides, do you think I'd be under you right now if that wasn’t true?”

“Mm - shut up”, he fought a smile and increased his pace in the hopes that it would render you speechless.

It did, of course.

You were a moaning mess atop his sheets with your back arched to accommodate Logan’s arm sneaking around you. His pace was enough to rock his headboard into the wall and he was thankful it was your apartment on the other side instead of a stranger’s. You were chest to chest as he whispered filthy things into your ear.

“Takin’ it well like I knew you would, baby doll - knew you’d like it when I fucked you like this.”

You were still at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the pressure in your lower stomach.

“You think you’ve got another one in you? C’mon, sweet girl, let me see it.”

His coaxing had your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head as he pounded into you. Besides the grunts and moans between you two, the only sound echoing in the room was the slap of skin against skin and the squelching of your pussy as he dragged himself out and back in again.

You were almost drooling from how deep he was able to fuck you. The familiar fire in your stomach had you feeling warm all over, building and building itself up. As if he could read your mind, Logan’s hand reached down between the both of you and he started to trace tight circles around your swollen clit.

“F-Fuck, my god, Logan - “

He hummed affirmatively, almost as if to acknowledge that was indeed his name that you were chanting.

You squeezed your eyes shut so hard that you almost saw stars when your third orgasm hit hard and fast. You were probably loud enough for the entire building to hear as he worked you through it.

“Good girl, good girl - c’mere,” he praised, flipping you over so that you were on your hands and knees. You laid your chest as flat as you could against the mattress and arched your back. He didn’t hesitate in fitting himself snuggly inside of you again, his hands kneading at and smacking your ass as he used his grip to push and pull you. It wasn’t long before his thrusts started to become sloppy. He leaned down and hooked an arm around you, lifting you up a little so that his chest was pressed to your back. He moved his hand to your throat to tilt back your head. The way you looked back at him, your beautiful eyes boring into his soul - that was all he needed to finally let go. You felt him flood you with his come, a mixture of yours and his soaking the sheets underneath you. He gently pulled out and almost immediately pulled you against him to cuddle, his eyes already fluttering close. You didn’t take him for the cuddly type but it was just another wholesome thing you’d learned about him.

“You should call Wade back,” you mumbled, already drifting to sleep with your head on Logan’s chest.

“ ‘m busy, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

You chuckled to yourself, letting exhaustion overtake you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Wade practically sprinted up the steps to his apartment the next morning, keys already in hand. If Logan hadn’t answered - even if it was just to tell him to fuck off - something really bad must’ve happened. You hadn't answered any of his fifteen texts, either.

He unlocked his door and prepared himself to be met with a gorey scene, only to be surprised that there was no sign of a scuffle. There was untouched popcorn in the kitchen, clearly abandoned at some point right after making it. Did Logan upset you enough last night to make you leave early?

Of course, he’d completely missed your clothing that had been tossed just out of sight from where he was standing.

Wade sighed in frustration, striding through the hallway and stopping outside Logan’s bedroom. He banged his fist on the door and rested his hands on his hips as he spoke through the wood.

“Hey! Peanut! Did you make our guest leave early last night? How’d it go? You didn’t answer your phone and neither did she.”

On the other side of the door, your heads both popped up at the sound of wade’s banging. You stifled a laugh, looking to Logan for him to say something.

“Uh, yeah…she had somethin’ to take care of.”

Now you had to bury your face in his comforter, uncontrollably snickering.

Without warning, Wade groaned and swung the door open - one neither of you thought to lock because no one had been home.

“You better get your ass across the hall and apologize for whatever it is that -“

He was met with the sight of the both of you in Logan’s bed, covered by the bedding. It was obvious you were both undressed, Logan’s boxers somewhere near Wade’s feet.

He gasped, looking between the two of you in confusion before a giddy smile appeared on his face.

“Oh, I see, I see. Right, mhm - “

Logan was already trying to shoo him out but Wade wasn’t going to let him before he got the last word in.

“You're welcome, by the way!”

He shut the door and you laughed.

Logan laid back again, resting his arm around your shoulders so he could pull you back into his chest again.

In the comfortable silence, doubt settled itself in the form of a pit in your stomach. What if this was a one time thing?

Almost instantly, you felt his hand comb through your hair.

“Hey, uh,” he started, looking down into your eyes, “listen, I know I was supposed to ask this before I got you in here, but - um..”

You could feel your stomach turn, borderline terrified of what he was going to say next.

“Would you want to go out for coffee sometime?”

A wide grin spread across your face and you nodded eagerly, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek.

“I’d love that.”

A/N: this ones long as hell but so is just about everything else I write! if you've made it to the end I loooove u and pls interact if you enjoyed; hearing feedback is what motivates me to keep writing! as always, my inbox is open as well <3

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