#and so they think they can bring it up despite not doing any research into it

[honey-tongued-devil]

↞[arcane preference] founding out you were injured in crossfire↠

Since I've created a Bluesky profile and wrote my thesis on Arcane, I'll be posting both old and new drawings there as soon as the time comes. I'm taking advantage of this little space to promote my other social account. honey-tongued.bsky.social Also, I've received both comments and requests, but Tumblr decided I couldn’t post for a week (my internet connection is terrible). I want to let you know that I appreciate them, and I'll get to everything as soon as I can. So, feel free to leave comments, feedback, or requests!

Jayce: 

- This is the worst news he could receive: he's a scholar, he has no idea how to handle these situations, and, most of all, he's forced to confront his pride.  

- Not only was he unable to protect you now, but what if it happens again? Even if he's there, he wouldn't know what to do.  

- What if there's a next time? What if it doesn't turn out as well next time?  

- His self-sabotage leads him to distance himself from you for a few days, not because he doesn't want to be near you while you're hurting, but because he's ashamed of not being able to protect the person he loves.  

- On the bright side, for even just a second, he remembers the original purpose of his research: making the city safe, helping people.  

- But on the negative side, with no one to blame, more than ever, the people of Zaun appear to him as beasts, second-class humans who can't be redeemed in any way.  

- When he finally gathers the courage to see you again, he tries to make amends for everything: for not protecting you, for not being able to, for allowing someone to hurt you, and for not being there during your recovery.  

- He'll literally do anything to be forgiven: every morning you'll find breakfast in bed, if it's cold at night he'll prepare a warmer for your feet, and despite his squeamishness, he'll personally tend to your wounds, even if it makes him feel queasy.

Viktor:

- He tries to help you in every way possible, even ignoring his own pain.  

- He feels sadness, regrets that you went out alone and ended up in such a situation. He can't help but imagine the fear you must have felt, the confusion, and the loneliness when the guards intervened, and you woke up alone in the hospital.  

- He may be a scholar, but first and foremost he's a man with a moral code, and secondly, he's from Zaun: if he has any work, appointments, or lectures, he'll skip them all, maybe muttering a few insults in his thick accent at the most insistent people, and make up for it at night.  

- Plans, ideas, codes, anything – but he won't leave you alone unless you ask him to.  

- He takes care of you meticulously, respecting schedules, bringing you meals in bed, changing your bandages until your skin heals, and you're able to stand on your own again.  

- He doesn't mind helping you – as a chronically ill person who refuses others' help, he's learned to do everything on his own, and he's almost happy that his skills can be useful to someone else.

Ekko:

- Is it something totally normal in the lanes? Yes.  

- Does this stop Ekko from panicking? No.  

- He's the one who finds you and brings you to the others, but he doesn't want, nor can he afford, to be seen panicking. So, he swallows his despair and tries to act as normal as possible while ten other people rush to help you.  

- His face remains expressionless as the most skilled remove debris, clean the wound, stitch your torn flesh, and bandage you, but his foot keeps tapping the floor with force and speed, revealing his anxiety.  

- When the others insist that it's best you stay in the makeshift infirmary, he tries not to protest, but suddenly every moment of the day becomes an excuse to pass by: to bring you stolen sweets from Piltover, to tell you about some expedition, maybe even steal a kiss or fall asleep leaning against your mattress.  

- It's an overwhelming fear, but the fear of losing you makes him unable to think rationally, and all he feels is how much he misses you, even while you're right there with him.

Vander:

- A crossfire from the other side of the river was already a big enough provocation to alert him and prepare to defend the city or, if absolutely necessary, to strike back.  

- But you, as an accidental victim, are a huge problem.  

- He doesn’t have the heart to pull away from you, and when he does, he can’t help but feel frustrated, angry at himself, knowing he hasn’t been able to keep his city under control like he promised—to you, to Piltover, to everyone.  

- He’ll ask for your forgiveness by kissing the scarred skin every day, even if you insist it’s not his fault, and if you remember even one of the faces, he’ll go and handle the problem.  

- Not with violence, unless necessary, but it’s not about personal justice; rather, it’s about protecting the other citizens of the alleys too.  

- Even after you’ve healed, he’ll insist it’s absolutely necessary to carry you everywhere you need to go, claiming a very good doctor told him so.  

- And the memory of the scar will be tiny compared to all the marks Vander has left on you.  

Silco:

- Private justice is absolutely the first option, even though you were an accidental victim.  

- He’ll call all his goons and associates for a meeting while you’re still bedridden, to see if they’ve heard, seen, or been involved in any armed conflict, and if he doesn’t get a face or a name from them, he’ll turn to the brothel, the house of all information,  

- Until he finds who hurt you and makes sure they can’t do it again.  

- Silco isn’t fazed by blood or open wounds, but despite having enough experience to handle it himself, at least on the first day, he’ll take you to Singed to make sure you’re in the best condition.  

- In the following days, he’ll take care of you himself, but he has pride, a façade, and little emotional communication skills, so he won’t openly show how worried he is, relying entirely on the fact that you don’t know about the murder of your assailant and remember nothing of the visit to Singed.  

- But the only reason you heal so well and so quickly is that, even if he doesn’t know how to express it, all the love he feels is poured into the care he gives you.  

Jinx:

- Flashbacks. So many. Too many.  

- At some point, she’ll even convince herself that she’s the one who shot you, leading to a complete breakdown.  

- She punches her head, scratches herself without realizing it, her nose bleeds, and her eyes are bloodshot.  

- It takes her a while to convince herself that she wasn’t the one who shot you, even though the hallucinations overlap images of you with memories of her armed, creating waking nightmares that feel increasingly real.  

- As much as she’d like to ask her father for help, even just to give you a cleaner room, she feels responsible and is too scared that if she stays away from you, you’ll forget her. That’s why she sets up a little space for you and takes care of you herself, though not always painlessly.  

- She’s pulled bullets out of her own body more times than not after missions; what might seem like dangerous, delicate work to someone else is almost routine for her by now.  

- Once she has a suspicion of who might have done it, she’ll make sure they learn their lesson. 

 

Vi:

- Anger.  

- Why were you out alone? Why didn’t you leave as soon as you saw the crowd getting too big? Why were you in that area?  

- But her anger is just panic pouring out like a flood, the fear of not being able to protect the one she loves twists her stomach, making her feel like she might throw up, like she’s dying inside.  

- None of those questions mean she blames you, but she doesn’t know how to feel, what to think, or even what to do.  

- She’ll do everything to help you—bandaging you, cleaning your wounds, staying silent and giving her full attention to make up for not being there when you needed her, even though that’s not true.  

- And when the scar forms, she’ll kiss it every single day, every single night, like a little ritual between the two of you.  

Caitlyn:

- Safety first.  

- She’ll be the one to assess how bad the injury is, and if there are any foreign objects in your body, there’s a good chance she’ll try to handle it herself, even though at first it might seem a bit barbaric.  

- She’ll give you the guest room and call the family doctor to make sure you’re okay, that you don’t need anything else, and she’ll take care of what’s necessary, even teasing you a bit to hide her worry.  

- "A bullet in the leg from being caught in crossfire? Very vintage, I must say."  

- What you won’t know is that she’ll quietly increase security, not in an oppressive way, but just enough to make both you and the other citizens feel safer.  

- Her family won’t get involved directly, but they won’t stop her either. Sometimes Cassandra herself will make sure her daughter finds the tray to bring up to you, though she’ll never be too open about it.  

- The perfect rehabilitation? Long walks in the villa’s garden, so you can stop for some cookies or tea when you get tired.  

Mel:

- Flashbacks, but less personal than Jinx’s.  

- Her mother would call her weak if she knew how it kills her to see someone barely scratched by crossfire, and that realization soon turns into frustration, which then becomes anger.  

- She tries to stay calm, but her voice sounds like she’s scolding you, and then like she’s scolding the servants, or anyone else who crosses her path.  

- Two hours of lecture if you’re lucky—why you shouldn’t go out without a guard, why you shouldn’t put yourself in dangerous situations, why the enforcers are utterly useless and can’t find anyone responsible, even though the fight was so intense.  

- She’ll focus entirely on the bureaucratic side because little Mel was never taught how to deal with strong emotions, and she’s definitely feeling them now but can’t afford that vulnerability, even though she knows you’re safe.  

- She won’t take care of you herself, but she’ll always stay in the room. Not because she doesn’t want to, to be clear, but because she wants you to have the best care possible and prefers to leave it to a top professional rather than her inexperienced hands.  

- In return, she’ll triple the amount of affection and caresses—more to calm herself than you, but you won’t be the one to complain.  

Sevika:

- She needs a moment.  

- She knows she has to report to Silco that there was a firefight, that someone is threatening the people, but part of her just wants to grab those responsible and crush their heads with her bare hands, doing both you and her boss a favor. Yet, another part of her doesn’t want to leave you alone or take you with her.  

- She knows how to handle these things; she’s lost an arm, and Silco’s goons often come back in worse shape, which is why she’ll take care of you herself, in complete silence.  

- She’ll wait until you’re asleep to place a water bottle, a glass, some painkillers, and some bread on the nightstand next to your bed. And when she’s sure you’re fully asleep, she’ll leave a soft kiss on your forehead before putting on her cloak and heading out to the Last Drop.  

- There, she’ll release her anger in a brawl or two, talk to her boss, and search for the reason why she feels so awful at the bottom of her third glass of whiskey.  

[mad-hunts]

as far as jack could tell, jervis was really out of it; and it made him wonder it was due to something that had happened while he was out with his father, or when they'd gotten here. perhaps both. jack gnawed on his bottom lip, his eyes darting to jervis's hands, which were flexing like he was struggling with something. an eyebrow rose as jack contemplated asking whether he needed some pain medication.

since he didn't receive an answer to his question yet, jack figured he might as well introduce himself. ❝ uhh, well, you don't have to talk to me if you aren't feeling up to it. my sister told me that you fainted in front of her out there — so, i understand if you're still feeling sick. my name is jack, ❞ he scratched at the back of his neck as he continued to observe jervis. whenever the man tried to get up, jack approached him and was about to caution jervis that maybe he shouldn't by lightly touching his shoulder.

but he remembered matilda telling him something about the other really not liking to be touched, so he merely was going to verbally tell him. up until jervis laid back down himself, anyhow. jack couldn't hold himself back from frowning at his poor present state before venturing out of the room with a 'i'll be right back.' and indeed he had been, with two different vials, alongside a few syringes to inject into that IV bag: should jervis want to be medicated. jack figured it'd be easier to just do that rather than forcing him to swallow anything.

he placed those also on the table before tilting his head at the quote jervis had said until it clicked a few seconds later, ❝ that's a quote from through the looking glass, isn't it? and one that the red queen said in the story if i remember correctly. she was basically teaching alice that staying in the same place is falling behind, right? ❞ jack squinted his eyes at that before a thought came to mind. a soft snort left him, but one that was done of an innocent sort of amusement rather than malice. ❝ that is a kind of roundabout way of talking about survival of the fittest. but hey, lewis carroll was all about the whimsy of things, i guess. and its no big deal. ❞

jack pretended not to see the tears that the other shed for jervis's own sake. the blood on his lips was something he couldn't ignore, no matter how hard he tried, though. jack grabbed a washcloth from his pack and held it out towards's jervis's hand. once it was out of his hand was when jack set down that teacup, the slightly too long stripped pants he wore swaying across the ground. ❝ mm, you and dad were both asleep for nearly four hours. sure — i don't think that's silly at all. i keep something on me all the time from when my brother, julien, was still around. ❞ the bracelet he showed the other on his right wrist then seemed to be made up entirely of tiny conch shells.

julien was a big fan of the sea, which jack thought made his death all the more crushing. after seeing the state that the stuffed animal was in, he figured that that bunny must've been really loved; though it didn't really matter by whom it was. the end result was the same, as love changes you. jack knew this well as he'd never wanted anything more than to be embraced by the warmth of it.

he quickly shook that thought off, only to grab the two vials he got from the fridge once more. ❝ eh... the four hours actually went by rather fast. ❞ jack cleared his throat then, ❝ you know, i couldn't help but notice that you aren't looking so hot still, and so i grabbed some meds for you. but i won't force you to take them. i have a pain reliever as well as something that relieves vertigo. are either, or both of these, something you want? ❞

Eigengrau.

A faint hum buzzed in his ears; his mouth was so dry it felt like he’d swallowed a wad of wool.

The thin sheet beneath him brushed his fingertips as Jervis flexed his hands, cracking his eyes open a sliver. The room tilted, everything blurring at the edges. Ah… so he had fainted. Just as he’d suspected. No glasses, then.

"Hey. Ahh, you're awake… That's awesome. How are you feeling?"

The new voice was barely a whisper, young and uncertain—belonging to a boy, maybe sixteen or eighteen by the timber. Was this another of Barton's assistants, a friend of Matilda’s, or perhaps her brother? Jervis couldn’t quite remember; hadn't Barton mentioned something about having more than one child?

He winced, his body feeling heavy, leaden; aching everywhere. Slowly, he exhaled and tried to push himself upright—tried being the keyword. The effort brought only a wave of vertigo, dizzying and blue-hot, making his vision swim.

… ohh, god…

He swallowed thickly, curling into himself. Something wasn’t right. His glasses and gloves weren’t the only thing missing. He was in his socks, jeans, and a now damp charcoal t-shirt, his body slick with cold sweat. His graying auburn curls clung to his neck in tangled ropes. His boots were beside the cot, his messenger bag on a desk across the room. His overcoat and maroon button-down were draped over a chair.

A flicker of discomfort in his right arm. Burning. Tugging.

Jervis glanced down at the source: a plastic tube. A peripheral IV catheter.

"Ah, you know... 'It takes all the running you can do, to stay in the same place,'" he muttered, his voice clipped and hollow; Bermudian accent casual, almost detached. He turned his eyes to the boy; offered him a faint, strained smile. "Keeps things interesting, I suppose... but I appreciate your concern, lad."

He lifted his fingers to his cheek, feeling the moisture trickle down—salt on his lips. Tears, sharp and stinging. Jervis flinched and quickly scrubbed them away with the heels of his hands.

Cold metal pressed into his spine, tight around his neck—the chain with his and Sylvie’s wedding rings twisted against his skin. He must’ve been thrashing in his sleep. There was blood on his lips.

"Forgive me…" His vision swam as he watched the boy set a teacup on the small table beside the cot, just within view. "But I'm afraid I've rather lost my sense of time. How long has it been since I…?" He paused, his voice barely steady. "... if... if you don’t mind, could you please reach into my coat pocket? You'll find a small cuddly toy. A rabbit..." He rubbed his mouth, lowered his eyes. "It sounds foolish, I know... but it... it was my daughter's, you see..."

The boy nodded, moving quickly to retrieve the toy from Jervis’ coat pocket, and placed it on the table beside the teacup. The bunny was missing one of its button eyes, its white fur faded and matted. A pink satin ribbon around its neck was frayed and tattered.

“Thank you,” Jervis said hoarsely. “I must have been out of it for quite a while.”

[whokilledsamara]

hii!! I saw you write for homicipher so i was wondering if you could write some dark/yandere sfw & nsfw headcanons for mr scarletella 🥹 thank you so much & take ur time!!

MR. SCARLETELLA HC {N/SFW}

a Mr. Scarletella {homicipher} x reader n/sfw hc list.

{thank you for your support and nice words! :3}

warnings! : stalking, non-con, dub-con, hardcore, marking, slight gore, rough sex, violence, rough fingering, biting, cunnilingus, blowjobs, smut, murder mention, somno

{an : i didnt quite get what you meant when you said "dark" so hopefully this is what you meant. this is really hardcore. to the soft hearted people and people who cant handle ACTUAL freaky stuff, i wouldnt recommend reading this. there is a small section underneath the regular nsfw hc with a cw on it, so if you cant handle certain topics, there is still an nsfw section without it. he is my favorite character from homicipher ommggg hes so hot. id give him my name HAPPILY.}

SFW HC

sfw relationship/meeting him hcs

when you first meet him alone, he is very unexpected. his presence and constant facial expression is unnerving to say the least, but as long as you can manage that you will be fine.

if you end up "accepting" him, the relationship would be very weird.

he would be a wonderful partner despite the obvious other reasons, but dont think he wont be watching you constantly.

he will bring you daily gifts, consisting of anything he can find that he thinks you will like.

as for touch, he will let you touch him. usually he wouldnt let anyone even accidentally touch him, as he would teleport away, but one you are in a relationship with him, most boundaries he had before are gone.

he is rather fond of holding you. whether that be in his coat {for some reason} or just in general.

in Japanese culture {from my research, i am NOT Japanese!!} holding an umbrella with someone is a sign of love and acceptance. therefore he always likes you to hold it with him.

he isnt one of those "down-lo" kind of people. he makes it known everywhere that you are his.

he will do whatever it takes to please you. you are literally his princess/prince. even if that includes killing someone {he does it anyways}

if he catches anyone staring at you, or even remotely close to you, he will either teleport you away {if you are friends with the person} or kill them on the spot.

no matter how much he seems to be emotionless, anything involving you in pain or discomfort, it will flip a switch in him.

he has to be near you always. whether you know it or not, he will be there.

he hasnt quite grasped the concept of kissing or "romantic" things, but whatever you do he goes along with it. he rather enjoys hand holding or pressing his face into your neck.

he is the delulu type {this whole fandom knows it} and anything you do he will take as flirting. dont deny it though, hes too obsessed to care

he has a big thing for the height difference. he is a little over 8 feet tall, and feels a need to protect you at any cost.

any cost.

NSFW HC

what its like to have sex with him.

starting off, this man is a BEAST during sex.

he is a quick learner, and whether he is using his hands, mouth, or any part of his body, he will find those spots that makes you squirm.

one of his favorite things is you riding his thigh in public. say he was talking with Mr. Silvair, and happened to be sitting down. he would want you on his thigh "discreetly" getting off. bonus points if you cum.

he wouldnt be opposed to a threesome, but he has to trust the other person. a rare occasion.

anything you want to do, he will immediately comply. need him to go down on you? hes on his knees. even in public. need his fingers inside of you? absolutely. need his dick? against the wall you go.

he has a big dick, and luckily he knows it. he wont force everything inside at first, but eventually he will. you can take it. he thinks

he loves your body, and he makes sure you know it. even in his strange language, you can understand the things he is saying because he is touching you while he is doing it.

he makes little to no noise during sex, but not because he isnt enjoying it. he LOVES sex with you, but he prefers to listen to your noises. he would have it on repeat if he could.

you could look like anything and he would still find you to be the most attractive person on earth {or his earth, whatever}

for afab, he isnt one of those guys who has a hard time finding your clit. in fact, he doesnt even have to look. immediately his fingers will be circling that little nub that he loves so much.

he is a very dominating person, but it probably wouldnt be hard for him to let you dominate him. i say let because in no situation do you actually have control.

his fingering sessions are borderline violent, the pads of his fingers hitting that perfect spot with every curl.

cw! its about to get very dark and possibly triggering! viewer discretion is advised!

if you are one of those people who get off on your man killing for you, then he is the man. he will torture people in front of you as you touch yourself.

his sex isnt even borderline violent, it IS violent. if hes angry especially, he doesnt care if he hurts you.

afab, he will bruise your cervix and make you bleed. his tip hits so hard with his brutal thrusts that you will.

on certain occasions, {tw!!!} he will force himself on you. while it is rare, r...pe can happen, so be careful and dont piss him off.

he doesnt need sleep, so if hes horny enough then he will fuck you while you're sleeping. if you explicitly ask him not to, then he will just jerk himself off over your sleeping form.

dont expect to walk away from a rough fucking WITHOUT marks all over you. he makes it a mission to bite, claw, tear, any part he can. he wants you covered in blood, it gets him off faster.

will probably brand you with something

if you have a trauma kink he WILL use it to his advantage.

thats all bye bye!!! :3

{ made by @whokilledsamara }

[gyuswhore]

Statistically Speaking...

part of the svt TA collab

[full fic here]

kim mingyu x reader

est. word count: 10-15k [fat chance]

est. release date: 10th September

warnings: TA! mingyu, fluff, smut [MINORS DNI], angst, statistics, more to be added in final post

synopsis: In all your years of academic endurance, you’ve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn’t know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,…it could.

‼️ JOIN THE TAGLIST by sending an ask or replying under this post. AGE INDICATORS ON YOUR BLOG ARE NECESSARY. ‼️

[a/n]: first look into the TA collab fic!!! @camandemstudios has been along time in the making and I cant wait for you all to read all of the fics in full. accept this piece offering from me and please let me know what you think of it so far!

masterlist

“Right. How can I help you?”

Pulling out your printed assignment, you bring the sheets of stapled paper to the centre of the table, writing facing him. 

One look at the sparse format of the cover page, Mingyu blows a full mouth of air at the sight of recognition. Without you having to say a thing, he flicks to the very last page, finding the rubric printed on a separate page. 

“It’s a 37,” you inform him like he couldn’t see the bold 37/100 in the bottom Total cell. 

“Do you think you deserved a better grade?” he asks. It would have sounded direct, an accusation even. But he asks with an intonation of genuinity, like he genuinely wanted to know. 

It stumps you regardless.

“Well…I know I can do better, at least,” you decide to answer. 

“You’re here, which means you’re at least willing to try. That’s a start,” he murmurs. His eyes are laser focused on the sheet beneath him, holding it open as his eyes move faster across the page than you can keep up with. Somehow talking to you while taking in the words on the paper.

“I remember marking this,” he says, looking up to address you. “Your concepts are nearly there, but your structure and wording were the problem.”

“You marked them?”

He raises his brow, “I hope that wasn’t an accusation. I need to stick to the rubric.”

“I thought the professor marked the lab reports.”

“He’s…supposed to.” There’s a forced reservedness in his voice. “I mark them and he puts in his comments if he has any. But I’m not sure you’d fare any better than this if it was him behind that pen either.”

Every question that floated in memorisation, from the form and structure, to the nitty gritties of the data presentation, all evaporate as you realise you’re at a loss for words. 

Even more embarrassingly, you feel tears prick the back of your eyes as the next words leave you in a low voice, “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

“That’s alright,” he says as reassurance, though it sounds awfully rehearsed. Like he says it everyday. “We’ll work through it.”

He lets out a big sigh, adjusting in his chair and running a hand through his hair. The motion has you noticing the dishevelled nature of the mop on his head, un-uniformed and sticking out at certain places, yet still somehow cohesive with his look. His shoulders are straight and taut, fingers working as they fiddle and flick the pen in his hand. 

Despite it all, his shirt is ruffled and creased, unbuttoned at the first couple steps. The buttons are misaligned, one side of his collar higher on his neck than the other. It takes an effort to not reach over and fix it for him.

“Lab reports can be quite tricky if you aren’t sure what you’re doing. Did you refer to the tutorial?”

You mean the one that did nothing to help? “Yes.”

“You got those bits right, format and whatnot. But—”

“It was a lump of writing about subheadings and word counts,” you say plainly.

Mingyu lips are in a tight line. “Well, yes, but it helps—”

“I know the results are supposed to go in the results section. I don’t need a PDF to tell me that,” you cut him off. Your voice is reserved, and you hope it comes off as a point across and not a complaint. Although it was a complaint. “I want to know why the entire section was ruled off as incorrect when we were never properly taught how to write it in the first place.”

“Dr. Cho—”

“Is no help.”

“I understand—”

“He can’t even mark his own papers. I’m quite sure that’s not in your job description. It’s supposed to be him here. Not you.”

It’s silent. There was nothing in your voice that suggested you wished to pick a fight, on the contrary, quite calm and matter of fact. Mingyu’s fingernails are going white as his grip on his pen and paper grow stronger. 

“And yet, we continue to show up. Because we do what we must.” He raises his head in control, a small smile on his face, eyebrows unnaturally raised. “And, better that I’m here rather than no one at all. I can help you too.”

Help, he did. 

Mingyu had made it quite clear his time with you was limited, but by the end of the near 25 minute session, nearly every inch of your printed assignment was covered different colours of notes and corrections, additional papers and post-it notes pasted on the back as you remain careful to not lose them as you slip the stack in your bag. 

It’s only then that you spot the segregated stack of papers in your bag that you remember. 

“I almost forgot,” you say, grabbing the pile and placing it in front of him. 

“Where did you find this?” he asks sharply. 

“You left them at the desk of the lecture hall last week,” you say, before quickly adding, “There was a class right after you left. I took them off the professor’s hands before they got lost. Thought it might be important.”

“I’ve been looking all over for these,” he says as he goes through the pages and files. Random sticky tabs and highlighted regions across the pages. The leather strap watch with the broken clock face remains on top, and he picks it up. He looks up to you with wide, sparkling eyes and a smile that feels genuine. “Thank you.”

You flush for some reason, “O–of course, couldn’t just leave them there.”

It isn’t till you’re pushing yourself out of your chair that he says something. “You can come in at 3:30 tomorrow.”

“Pardon?”

He’s stood up as well. “I have a free thirty minutes before office hours formally start. I can help you out a little more without the crowd.” 

Feet planted on the ground, there’s not much you can do but stare. “Um, sure. I can come in a little early.”

He nods casually, “Thanks again for the papers. And the watch.”

You smile, “No problem.”

[reidrum]

if you keep asking | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

a/n: this was requested with “if you keep asking me i’m not gonna be okay” or smth along the lines 😭 i am a glutton for hurt/comfort fics so if yall have any more requests send em in :)

summary: in which you’re trying to keep it together when you hear some detectives talking ill of you, and spencer isn’t gonna have it

cw: hurt/comfort, self deprecation, insecure!reader, bitch ass detectives, protective bau my heart, use of she/her pronouns

wc: 2.2k

_______

the bau team was filing into the bullpen after landing from their last case in seattle, everyone making a beeline for their desks to get a head start on their reports so they could go home faster. everyone, except you. it felt like you were on autopilot, remembering your last known movements and just repeating them for as long as you could.

the case in seattle was rough to say the least. the unsub’s mo seemed to change every minute, making any progress the team made obsolete. the only thing that seemed to be somewhat consistent was where the unsub was taking his victims, which meant the geographical profile was the most important part to solving the case, a task you and reid were assigned to.

it started off fine, you both had found the comfort zone of where the unsub would strike next to figure out how to catch him in the act. except the next time he struck it was completely out of the predicted range, and this time a kid had died. no one could have anticipated that happening. it didn’t make the loss hurt any less.

the team knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, humans are unpredictable, and that includes serial killers. spencer made sure to tell you specifically that it wasn’t your fault, he knew how you’d get if someone didn’t tell you.

his efforts went to utter waste when you walked by a room at the precinct with detectives whispering about how “you fucked up the whole profile, that’s why that kid died” and “it’s clear you make the team stupider, how did you even get into the fbi in the first place?”

it wasn’t the first time your abilities were in question. you were the newest member of the team, having only transferred six months ago from cold cases. you may be new to the field, but there was a reason hotch chose you personally for the bau.

you tried hard to prove yourself, despite pretty much everyone saying your skillset was enough proof. you’d stay late to finish reports, do extra research on cases to help garcia narrow her searches faster, and you spent countless hours at the training range.

you were a worthy agent, anyone who knew you or read your resume knew that. but right now, you felt like the smallest person on earth, an imposter. what the hell were you even doing here if you couldn’t save him.

you shouldn’t be allowed to feel relief that the team caught the unsub, not when there’s blood on your hands.

the bad thoughts swirling in your head causes you to stall your motions when you’re putting files away, gaining the attention of morgan, “you alright, sweet cheeks?”

“i’m good morgan, don’t worry.” you lie effortlessly. if he can tell you’re lying, he doesn’t mention it and turns back to his work.

taking a deep breath, you stand up to go to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, when you run into jj finishing up making her own, “i was just thinking about you, i got this new creamer i think you’d rea-, hey, are you okay?” jj starts but ends concerned.

you try to focus on metronomic tick of the clock so you dont escalate, “i’m fine j,” you laugh unconvincingly, “what creamer did you get?”

she ignores your question, “because i know that was a tough case, and if you need to talk about it with someo-“

“jj, drop it, please.”

the blonde’s face drops a little at your sternness, but respects your space and offers you to try the creamer before returning to her desk. you feel bad for snapping at her, but the growing guilt within you is giving you apathy, and you can’t bring yourself to care at this moment.

you linger in the kitchen so as to avoid any more concerned faces, and you’re left to your own devices that are slowly overtaking you.

unbeknownst to you, spencer had been watching you since you all landed back in quantico. he kept his distance, mostly because he knew how overwhelmed you get at confrontation, especially about your emotions. he was the same way, a man of logic getting befuddled by emotion was enough cognitive dissonance to last a long time.

he knew it was different with you. you had a way of internalizing everything in your surrounding, a downfall to your endless empathy for others even if they never deserve it. he could explain the logic behind your beliefs, and hopefully use facts to help you relax, but that was the other thing he knew about you; you were stubborn. asking for help is something you hated doing, and if it wasn’t on your accord to be asking, it was even more detrimental to your mood.

so when he watched you duck out from the kitchen and push past the glass doors of the bullpen, he knew you were reaching the head of your doom spiral quickly.

spencer got up from his desk, “i’m gonna go check on her.”

jj nodded, “just be mindful spence, something feels different.”

they’d all been on cases that hit a little too close to home, how could they not when all they do is rid the world of the evilest of evildoers. but after a good cry, a rant to a teammate, or even an emergency therapy session, even the worst of the scum could be washed away.

something about the way you’ve been acting since they landed seemed like those fixits aren’t going to work this time.

he let out a sigh in response and walked out of the bullpen, realizing he didn’t actually know which direction you went in. assuming you’d want to be alone, he thinks the bathroom might’ve been a viable option for you and heads towards it.

the nice thing about the seventh floor is that it’s only for the bau, the bullpen was where the team spent most of their time but outside the doors there were so many empty rooms being used for storage.

so as spencer walked towards the bathroom in the hopes of finding you, his ears pick up on a tiny sniffle a little ways before it. he stops in his tracks, hoping he was just hearing things. but another pained sob rang through the door on his left, and he knew he’d found you.

he rapps the door a few times, softly calling your name, “hey, it’s spencer…can i come in please?”

you were on the other side sitting at one of the abandoned desks with your head down, but shot up at hearing spencer’s voice, “i- i’m fine i just needed a minute. i’ll be back in like two minutes, i promise.” you angrily wipe at the tears pooling on your face, grateful that you took your makeup off in the plane.

“honey, that’s not what i asked,” he starts, “is it okay if i come in?

your heart clenches at the term of endearment as you stare at the door knowing he was waiting for your okay to come in, and you start to internally weigh your options. you could let him in, and let him in to do whatever comforting you know logically would help. or you could lie, and feign ignorance to the end.

don’t they say ignorance is bliss?

you make sure to wipe the last of your tears and your runny nose before practicing a few fake smiles so it didn’t look like your face was frozen in sadness for the last thirty minutes. turning the knob you swing the door open, borderline creepy smile on your face as you greet the man, “hi dr. reid! was there something you were looking for?”

he furrows his brows at your complete (fake) shift in mood, but he comes in and shuts the door behind him, and moves to stand a few feet from you, “what’s going on?”

“nothing spence, i’m fine.” you insist.

spencer thinks if you could be more see through you’d be a windexed window. you’re avoiding eye contact with him, picking at the skin of your thumb, he can see your nose is red most likely from all the tissue blowing, and your eyes are still puffy and lined with some unshed tears still. you are so clearly breaking at the seams, like an old childhood teddy bear with stuffing falling out the sides yet hoping you can offer some semblance of stability despite your state.

“you don’t look fine, honey. why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

his words almost make you falter, and you think the walls you built so high are starting to chip down. “it’s not a big deal spence, i-,” a hiccuped breath gives you away, “i can deal with it on my own.”

spencer instinctively shortens the gap between you two, “you shouldn’t have to. i just wanna help you.”

“but i’m oka-“

“no you’re not.”

there is only one tiny thin thread left holding you together. “well,” you take a deep inhale and your voice gets impossibly small, “if you keep saying things like to me i’m not gonna be okay.”

“that’s why i’m here.” he says softly.

you look up at him with the biggest glassy doe eyed look he’s ever seen, and it’s like spencer can hear the snap of the thread in real time when he watches your face absolutely crumble. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his embrace, allowing him to hold your head down in the middle of his chest while his other hand smooths up and down your back in comfort.

“i know, shh, hey it’s okay, i got you.” he comforts.

your hands wrap around his waist beneath his suit jacket and you keep your face buried in his chest, inhaling the musky vanilla scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh laundry detergent smell letting it ground you back to him.

“i’m sorry.” you cry.

“don’t say that,” he hushes, “is it about the case?” you nod in his embrace, “we talked about it remember? there was nothing we could have done. we did everything right, sometimes it just doesn’t work out, you know that.” he moves his hand to tangle in your hair and rub your head.

“i- i know,” you say through labored breaths. you take a big breath before admitting the true reason for your anguish, “when we were about to leave, i walked by a room with some detectives talking about how i ruined the case and that…i’m the reason the kid died.”

“what?” he pulls back to look you in the eyes hoping to find any indication that you didn’t believe those poisoned words, “we both worked on that geographical profile together, the whole team agreed it was accurate and acted accordingly. what happened was not your fault. at all.” he emphasizes the last two words.

“yeah but…i don’t know maybe i could ha-“

“stop. you can’t do that to yourself. we did what we could with what we had, the burden of that child’s passing does not fall on you. we were only able to find the unsub’s hiding spot when you figured out he’d been going to the same gas station since the murders started.” he reinforced to you.

“they said that they didn’t know how i even got into the academy in the first place, and that i make the team stupider.” you quietly added.

spencer felt the rage consume his body, already planning the ways he was going to obliterate seattle pd. he cradled your head to look at him in the eyes, “listen to me. you are an important asset to this team. you make this team better at what they do, you make me better at what i do. you mean so much to me and the team okay? please don’t forget that.”

he swipes at a fallen tear on your cheek as you tell him between sniffles, “thanks spence…” you hope he understands the sentiment and love you’re trying to exude to him, even thought you’re unable to vocalize it.

“you gotta tell me if something like that happens,” he softly scolds you, “i’ll make sure they lose their fucking jobs.”

you’re about to speak when he cuts you off, “and don’t tell me that we should be the bigger people, because once the rest of the team hears about this, they’re all gonna be fighting over who’s gonna kick the shit out of them.”

you let out a tearful giggle, “you sound really funny when you curse.”

he scoffs, “what the hell, i do not!”

“you sound like a baby duckling that just learned how to say fuck.”

he starts to guide you out of the room and towards hotch’s office so you can recount what happened, “ouch, i’m hurt. i’d like to think the pistol and fbi badge i carry makes me intimidating.”

you giggle again, and spencer puts aside his rage to revel in the fact that you’re feeling better.

when hotch learned of what happened he immediately called seattle pd to file a motion to get those detectives fired, and the rest of the team were secretly praying for a case in seattle again so they could, as spencer predicted, kick the shit out of them.

[parkerslatte]

Charcoal

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

Summary: A failed attempt at making bread leads to an overdue conversation.

Requested: Yes. The request was deleted from my inbox :(

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

When Y/N awoke from her nap that evening, the left side of the bed was empty and cold. A small smile made its way onto Y/N’s face as she remembered Azriel coming back to her bedroom tired after a whole morning of training and all he did was strip off his training clothes and collapse onto the bed. They were both asleep not long after. 

Slipping out of the warm covers, Y/N padded her way over to her wardrobe and pulled out a robe. She quickly slipped it on before securely tying it around her waist. Her hair was a mess but she didn’t bother to correct it at all, only brushing away any stray strands that were in her eyes. 

With a yawn, Y/N opened the door to their bedroom and she stilled. The smell of burning wafted into the room. It wasn’t pleasant in the slightest. Y/N frowned and quickly walked through the house she shared with Azriel until she stood in front of the kitchen doors. Her hand hovered above the handle and just as she was about to push down, she heard a quiet mumble through the door. It was undoubtedly Azriel’s voice. 

Y/N slowly pushed open the door and smoke wafted out, obscuring her vision. While fanning it away, Y/N’s eyes landed on Azriel who was wearing her yellow floral apron and had flour dusted on his left cheek and forehead. If she didn’t know Azriel and someone told her that standing before her was one of the most feared Illyrian’s in Prythian, she would have laughed.

Y/N stifled her laughter. “It seems as if you’ve been quite busy.”

Azriel’s head snapped in her direction. “Y/N!”

The smoke began to clear as Y/N stepped further into their kitchen and closer to Azriel. “So you thought it would be a good idea to burn down the house while I was sleeping?”

A faint blush grew on Azriel’s face. “I was making dinner for you. I tried to make that bread that you like to go with it but that happened.” He gestured to the bread resting on the side that was pitch black and crumbling before her eyes. 

Y/N covered her mouth with her hand to stop her laughing, however she couldn't help when one slipped past. “Perhaps we can gift it to Feyre? She did mention once that she wanted to try drawing with charcoal.”

Azriel groaned and slumped down on a chair. “It’s not funny. I wanted to do something nice for you.”

Y/N slowly slid so she sat on his lap and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You always do nice things for me.”

Azriel’s arms locked around her waist and he rested his chin upon her shoulder. “I haven’t in a while. I have noticed how tired you have been after you returned from your research trip and I wanted to bring you dinner in bed and we could read that book you have been telling me about.”

Y/N pressed a kiss to his forehead. “And you have been tired too. Just today you have spent ten hours training without a single break.”

A gentle kiss was pressed to her shoulder. “I have been neglecting my training recently.”

A small smile made its way onto Y/N’s face. “And we both know why that is.”

Despite his defeated demeanour, Azriel smiled and pressed his lips against Y/N’s. Y/N kissed him back with the same amount of force and sighed happily. His hands slowly made their way to the knot keeping her robe together– he slowly began to pull it. Y/N pushed his hands away. 

“I don’t think so,” Y/N said. “Even though you nearly burnt down the house, it is still quite cold.”

Azriel’s lips attached to her neck. “I can warm you up.”

Y/N titled her neck, getting lost in the feeling as Azriel began to slowly pull at the tie once more until her warm robe was now revealing her body to the cold air. Y/N gasped and pulled it closed, pulling the knot even tighter. She slipped off Azriel's lap and stepped away from him. Azriel only reached out to her. 

“Come back,” Azriel said, his voice quiet and needy.

“No, we can continue that later,” Y/N said. “Now what did you plan to make me for dinner?”

Azriel stood from the chair and met her at the counter, situating himself behind her, his arm slipping around her waist to pull her against his chest. The shadowsinger had never been a particular touchy person. Even before he had confessed to Y/N, he had never gone out of his way to touch her or hold her hand. Now he could barely keep his hands off of her. Y/N enjoyed it, even she had picked up the habit of always reaching out for his hand when they stood next to one another or wrapping her arms around his torso and pulling him close just like he was doing to her now. 

“It was that soup you offered me when we accepted our bond,” Azriel said. “The bread wasn’t technically part of it but you mentioned liking it once so I thought I could make it. It turns out I cannot make bread.”

Y/N laughed and Azriel’s shadows danced with the sound. It only made his face light up. “Well, I am sure we can do without that bread for now.”

As Y/N served the soup into two bowls, Azriel never let go of her, keeping her pressed firmly against his chest. Before they confessed their feelings to one another, Y/N never thought Azriel would be so clingy– not that she was complaining. 

“I’m sorry. This was meant to be a surprise for you,” he muttered.

“You don’t need to apologise to me, Az. You made me my favourite soup and from the looks of things, it is perfect.” Y/N leaned back in his touch. “Although I am surprised that for someone as stealthy as you, you made quite the mess in here.”

Azriel scoffed and pushed her away and Y/N only laughed. He picked up the two bowls of soup. “I’ll have these to myself then.”

Y/N rolled her eyes before following Azriel to the dining table. He placed the two bowls out on the placemats and pulled out a chair gesturing to Y/N to it. 

“What is with you being so gentlemanly?” Y/N asked as she took a seat. 

“Why? Do I need an excuse?” Azriel questioned. “Perhaps it is only because I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N replied instantly. 

Azriel smiled before he took his seat, his hand finding hers as he linked their fingers together. 

“I never thought I would be content with this life,” Azriel said. “Domestic. Easy. Loving. Even though it is only for a few days of the week. I always thought I would hate it.”

Y/N pressed a kiss against his knuckles. “It is only because I’m here with you.”

“It is,” Azriel replied, love shining within his eyes. “If it were anyone else, I am sure I would have murdered them in cold blood by now.”

“Even if it was Cassian,” Y/N questioned with a small smile. 

“Especially if it was Cassian,” Azriel replied.

Y/N smiled and looked at the linked hands and back at the dining table. It wasn’t too big but there were still eight empty places, dust even settled on the seat from lack of use. The idea was for the rest of the Inner Circle to use them if they were ever invited over. Y/N could count on one hand how many times everyone had come over at once. 

“Hey,” Azriel said, catching her attention. “Where did you go?”

Y/N gently shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

With a squeeze of her hand, Azriel cocked his head slightly. A signal Y/N knew that he didn’t believe what she was saying. Before continuing she sighed. “Don’t you think this house is quite large for the two of us?”

Azriel shrugged. “You fell in love with it when we found it.”

“I know that, but now looking at it, don’t you think five bedrooms is too excessive for two people?” Y/N asked, avoiding the true intention of her question. 

“The others sometimes stay the night,” Azriel stated. 

“True, but I—” Y/N cut herself off. “Nevermind. It’s silly.”

Azriel smiled at her. “Nothing you say is silly.”

The look in Azriel’s eyes was encouraging and it always made Y/N believe she could do anything. It had been like that ever since she met him. With a deep breath, Y/N spoke. “With all of this room, it seems a bit silly that we have it all to ourselves. Maybe we can share it with someone– perhaps someone who was made out of love two individuals share for one another.”

The grip Azriel had on Y/N’s hand tightened but he didn’t say anything. For a brief moment Y/N felt her heart drop before a surge of love danced down the bond. Y/N looked hopefully into Azriel’s eyes.

“Are you saying that you want to start a family with me?” Azriel asked, hope shining in his eyes.

“Yes,” Y/N said. “We have been together for nearly two hundred years, Az and mated nearly seventy. Rhys and Feyre have been together not even a quarter of the time we have spent together and they already have their family. Nesta and Cassian and Elain and Lucien even less.”

“I never thought that I would even want a family,” Azriel confessed. “But I knew that the moment I fell in love with you that I wanted it all. I just never thought you wanted a family, you never mentioned it.”

“You never mentioned it either!” Y/N defend. 

Azriel chuckled. “How have we been together for two centuries and the topic of children has never come up?”

Y/N smiled. “I am unsure, my love.”

Azriel winked and sat back in his chair. “Your brain simply goes to mush around me, I’ve always had that effect on you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Have you now?”

“You know I have,” Azriel smirked. 

Y/N copied his facial expression and stood from her chair. Azriel watched her every movement. 

“What are you doing?” Azriel asked. 

As she stood before him, Y/N slowly undone her robe and allowed her bare body to be displayed in front of Azriel. His eyes racked up and down, his speech caught in his throat. Y/N bent down and pressed her mouth to his, dominating the kiss. A small whine came from Azriel’s throat. His hand reached out to pull her closer. They were only capable of the briefest touch before Y/N pulled away. 

She picked her robe back up from the floor and tied it around her before securing the knot. 

“Wha-what are you doing?” Azriel asked, his speech slurred as if he had become drunk on her kiss. 

“Finishing my dinner,” Y/N said, playfully. “You should too before it gets cold.”

Azriel tucked his chair closer to the table, doing exactly what she said. Y/N only chuckled. 

“Whose brain goes to mush again?” Y/N asked.

“Shut up.”

[omniuravity]

Helluverse During Rut/Mating Season Headcanons

Tags: @bloodypeachblog , @hazelfoureyes , @pinkhimecat , @je-suis-eternel-jennie, @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered

TW: Sex (obviously), animalistic behavior, way too much research, creature cocks (kind of), mention of pregnancy

Thank you guys for the overwhelming positivity from the last one! Here's another one!

Angel Dust:

Angel doesn't really talk about mating season much, unless it's for his films. Val, of course, finds it sexy and makes Angel work anyway.

Like most male spiders, Angel tends to mate with multiple partners during mating season unless he's in a relationship.

Angel loves dancing with you during this time of year. He finds it brings himself closer to you.

Angel tries to make sure you don't feel pressured to have sex with him during his mating season. He wants you to feel comfortable and loved.

Angel is pretty submissive in bed despite him being the one wanting to mate with you, though expect him to want it a bit more rough.

"Come on, baby. I'll be gentle at first, then we can get to the kinky stuff~"

Adam:

An angel's rut or heat isn't nearly as intense as a demon's, unless you're as sexual as Adam.

Adam is normally very possessive, but he gets extra possessive of you when it's mating season. Another man can't even look at you without him blowing up.

Adam likes to help make a little nest for the two of you. Adam also likes to bring you shiny things for the nest.

Adam likes to play his guitar for you as a way to remind you how much he loves you.

Adam is normally pretty rough in bed, while he's rutting it's so much harder and deeper.

"Chill out, I'm gonna take really good care of you, babe~"

Blitzø:

Blitzø's heat is pretty intense. If he somehow has a partner you are not leaving his apartment.

He tries to cook for you, but unfortunately isn't very good. He always insists on cooking for you since he does most of the work in bed (or so he says).

Surprisingly, enough he does enjoy those gentle moments after sex with you. He'll never admit it though.

Speaking of gentle moments, he loves to cuddle. He will cuddle you like a teddy bear. If he starts to cry gently rub his back and hold him.

Blitzø is a VERY kinky motherfucker. He's open to trying every kink once. Any kink you can think of, he's tried it. Yep, even that one.

"Get down, it's time for some quality time with daddy~"

Stolas:

Stolas' rut is very different than most Goetias. He doesn't get as violent as other bird-like demons, but he's still very defensive of his partner.

He brings you all the shiny things for the nest you two share. He also doesn't mind being presented with shiny things.

Speaking of the nest, it consists of blankets, the shiny things, and his feathers.

He also enjoys cooking for you. He is much better than Blitzø, of course.

He's going to bottom. There is no question about it. He's also really loud when the two of you have sex

"I want to take this slow for you. I love you and want you to feel as loved as I do."

Verosika:

Verosika's heat is very intense due to her being a succubus. Though she doesn't let that change her demeanor in the bedroom.

She does have to stop performing for the public while she deals with her heat.

Even though she doesn't perform in public during her heat, she does sing for you.

She loves leaving marks on your body. Scratch marks, kisses, and bite marks will litter your body for days.

Verosika always tops, period. She takes good care of her submissives, though.

"You're so pretty, well not as pretty as me, but I'm still gonna take care of you, baby~"

[yestrday]

— YANDERE! MALEWIFE! GENSHIN AU part one | two | three | four

⇢ alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno

introducing ! at the altar decorated by the blooming lotus flowers, your wrist is bound to your husband with a red string and a promise of togetherness. while the people dance and sing in celebration of the newlywed, his eyes are on you and you only— possessive through and through, even in parabandhana.

[ surpriseeeeeeee yea you did not expect this did you yeah neither did I. i just sat on my computer and decided to be productive. also did not include baizhu and mika for now cuz I got lazy. ]

warning ! yandere behavior, drúgging, manipulation, mentions of locking you away and múrder

— ADMONISHING INSTRUCTION. alhaitham | الهيثم

[ “sure, sure, i’ll clean up after you go. hm? i’m not being lazy at all, just enjoying my peace and quiet.”] 

⇢ my boy is living the dream life. no nosy seniors, demanding bosses, and curious co-workers. just him and his hardworking partner and the freedom to do his research at his own time. when you’re around, he tends to slack off (though he denies it) but he does his part of the chores anyway, so you don’t really have any complaints. he’d already been living the cushy life before, but now this lifestyle is more than comfortable.

⇢ he helps you out with your work when he sees you struggling, and he lets you use him as a soundboard to work out solutions. sometimes even lets you complain. keyword: sometimes. most of the time he’ll distract you with a movie or just bring you to the bed so the two of you can read a book together. unfortunately, his tolerance towards whining is very low (reminds him too much of a certain blonde), but he still loves you enough that he’s willing to let your stress out through other means.

⇢ marriage seems to have made him a bit of a romantic, though he’ll tell you that he’s stayed the same as he was when he was still your boyfriend. whenever you’re squinting at your computer screen in frustration, you’ll be caught offguard when he presses a tender kiss to your temple and sets down a mug of coffee next to you. or while you’re talking about something or another as you eat, he’ll clasp your hands in his and press a chaste kiss to each knuckle. these gestures has you blushing and stammering all the time, reverting you back to the naive student you were when you met him. this makes him a bit smug, so you often hit him in embarrassment.

⇢ he would never look down at you. marrying you means he has acknowledged you his equal, and to be fair he doesn’t really have a habit of looking down on others. however, when he sees some pesky flies fly a bit too close, he often gets too full of himself. someone trying to smooth talk you at the cafe? haitham’s not one for pda, but he’ll wrap a sturdy bicep around your waist and watch as the poor thing trembles from his gaze. 

⇢ haitham doesn’t always tell you this, but he admires you for a lot of things. but sometimes you get a bit too… irrational, and he knows that he has to be the one to bring you down sometimes. you’re not a kid, so you should know better. besides, haitham’s always been the more rational between the two of you. sometimes bordering on…heartless, but you never tell him that. you don’t have the heart to.

⇢ he’s often the decision-maker, most of the time not even asking you what you want. he says it’s not about want, he has to take the rational decision for the both of you. you’ve always been a little… dull. it’s an endearing trait, but it’s something that has to go away as you both age. he sees the hurt flash in your eyes when he tells you this, and he thinks he can make up for it with a gentle kiss between your pretty eyes. he loves you like his equal, really, but sometimes (most of the time) you need a good talking down to.

“so you’ll continue to let your brother exploit you, despite everything he’s done to you in the past?” haitham shuts his book and stares at you with a seemingly bored gaze. “you know you don’t need to give them that solicitation, right? he’s not worth it.”

“it– it’s not about him, haitham, believe me!” you plead with him. “i’m, i’m doing this for his wife, okay? she doesn’t deserve to deliver a baby in his dingy apartment with no professionals around. it’s not fair! just because my brother was a díck doesn’t mean she deserves the cold shoulder too! have some compassion for once!” he rolls his eyes and gets up, towering above some good inches. his eyes look down at you, but his hand rests heavy on your shoulder as if trying to calm you down. “it’s not about compassion, dear. it’s about being rational. once your brother sees you softening, he’ll start asking for more and more and more and well, we know what kind of person you are.” you open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head. “you’re too soft, [y. name]. chasing around the affection of others… you don’t have to do that anymore.”

[ “this is for the both of us. i’m sure you can’t tell now, but sooner or later, you’ll thank me.” ]

— EMPYREAN REFLECTION. kaveh | کاوه

[ “you’re the — hic!— the best thing’s that ever happened to me! of– of course i’m crying! i’m not heartless!” ] 

⇢ for kaveh, your marriage was both a blessing and a cause of distress to him. a blessing, of course, because what sane man would not want to get married to you! his darling, light of his life, the one who tolerates his flaws more than any other person on teyvat! but at the same time, he can’t just let you shoulder his burdens! he can’t give you the luxury you deserve to have, you don’t deserve to be saddled with his debt, it’s– it’s just not fair!

⇢ with kaveh’s sense of aesthetics and talent for architecture, you two will have the prettiest home around! it is a must for this architect to gift you with the prettiest home you’ve ever laid eyes on. sure, he can’t give you the grandiose mansion that you deserve even with both of your savings joined, but a master architect will make the most of what he has. this is the place where he’ll make memories with you, where you’ll grow a family and your chi… children (?!??!!!!) will live. it has to be as beautiful as you.

⇢ complains like you’d never believe. he’s always been chatty, but he gets even chattier after a disagreement with a client or a run-in with a certain someone or when he hears whispers of your horrendous workplace. to anyone else, his overdramatic flair might be a bit too much to handle, but you can’t help but listen with amusement as your husband drones on and on and on and embellishing his rants with over-the-top remarks. nevertheless, in the case that you do get weary, just press a kiss on his lips— it will surely leave him an incoherent mess in no time.

⇢ a bit too eager for your praise. it’s not like people don’t praise him all the time, but it’s only your approval that he cares for. when he makes a meal that he’s proud of, he’s squirming nervously in the seat across you as he watches you take bite after bite. when he finished his part of the chores, he tends to be a bit clingy with you as he tries to fish for compliments. it’s your choice to cave in so easily or play around with him, but when you do utter a compliment, know that you’ll be left with a gooey pile of mush cuddling into you.

⇢ on the other hand, kaveh absolutely cannot handle fights with you. fighting is a normal thing between couples, but he gets so absolutely wrecked it’s unreal. your look of disappointment, the glare you gave him, the fed-up sigh when you push him away and say that you need some time away from him… they all drive him insane. he curses himself, wondering why’d he have to go and open his stupid mouth and fuck everything up. you’re not wrong, never wrong, and it should be him to take the blame. the longer the fight, the more his wellness and self-confidence cracks. it’s a common sight to see him groveling on the ground, for your forgiveness, begging for you to notice him again. the sight is so pathetic that you can’t bear to look away.

⇢ the most insecure husband to ever exist and grows even worse with every fight you two might have had in the past. anyone who approaches you has him tensing up and tightening his grip on you, but a raised brow from you has him reluctantly loosening his grip and shamefully looking away. he’s plagued with thoughts of you leaving (because why would you stay with a wreck like him?) and overthinks every friendly gesture you give towards anyone who isn’t him (is that how you smile with someone who isn’t a complete fool?). he’s a pushover and craves your love and attention the most. if you love being an asshole and having someone completely around your finger, there’s no perfect husband to get more than kaveh.

“kaveh…” you start hesitantly, brows furrowed as you put a hand on his shoulder. “kaveh… there’s really no need for you to do all this.” but despite your gentle words, it only makes kaveh flinch and bury his weeping face even more into your chest. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he keeps whispering with a voice ragged from the amount of apologies he’s repeated. “i won’t do it again. whatever i’ve done please just forgive me. i can’t, i can’t stand it!” he looks up at you and that pretty face of his is ruined with tears. “please come back to me. you don’t have to sleep at that inn anymore. i can’t handle you not being with me anymore.” your grip on his shoulder tightens, and your expression seems to twist between a grimace and guilt. the only reason you stayed at an inn was because you were a coward, and you couldn’t handle watching kaveh break down as he beats himself up for a mistake that you caused. this fight was your fault to begin with, but the only one ruined was the innocent one. “i… i forgive you, dear,” you hushedly whisper, with the audacity of a man who did nothing but take advantage. “i forgive you. no matter what you’ve done.” and when he brightens up and smiles so prettily, your heart squeezes in your chest as he pulls you into a kiss sweeter than you deserve.

[ “wh… what are you apologizing for…? there’s no need to look at me like that…! you can blame me all you like!” ]

— VERDANT STRIDER. tighnari | الطغنري

[ “once again, i told you not to eat your boss’ baking! no, i don’t care if they looked nice! they. are. poisonous!” ]

⇢ he’s more at ease now that he doesn’t have to tolerate idiots who think eating poisonous mushrooms recklessly count as experiments or co-workers who tell him stupid jokes all the time. it’s a less stressful environment now… at least, that’s what he thinks. so why do you keep coming home barely alive?! you’ll find tighnari fussing over you and nagging at your office’s poor working environment.

⇢you’ll have the prettiest garden in the whole neighborhood, if not the whole world! the research data he can acquire from the plants in his backyard is limited, so it’s mostly a hobby of his. of course, he doesn’t just grow whatever there! there’s tons of medicinal herbs growing there and there’s a shed you both built where he can experiment wherever he likes. whenn you’re off work, you like to idle the time away in the garden while tighnari is hard at work on another of his concoctions. simply admiring his focused face is enough to put the stress of work behind you, and you think it’d be prettier if you tucked a flower behind his ear. but you never learn, do you? he launches off to another lecture about why you shouldn’t pluck flowers thoughtlessly while you daydream about his pretty face.

⇢ please please please don’t bring him to any work parties, lest you want to see the entire world burn. he still has that dry sarcasm that you oh so love, but he’s ruthless when it comes to your boss and your more unpleasant co-workers. if any of them try to act chummy with you, he immediately raises a brow and gives them the side-eye. he combats whatever fake-ass comment they have with a dry retort, leaving you panicking and trying him to stop it. but no one stops tighnari in verbal combat, and before long he’s revealed your boss’ and co-workers' vulnerabilities and have them deflating like a balloon.

⇢ tighnari always knows how to make the perfect brew, his teas always the perfect blend of both taste and remedy. it’s too bad though, that you always fall asleep before you can manage to finish a single pot. whenever you awake from a tea-induced slumber, your body feels strangely heavy but you can’t complain about the sleep. your husband is always the first thing you see from these naps, his fluffy tail wrapped around your legs and his big eyes staring intently at your face.

⇢ whenever he mixes in the drugs in your food or tea, tighnari’s tail swishes back and forth as he begins thinking of your cute expressions while you’re half-sober. sometimes he doesn’t put the usual dose and instead just halves it, just to see you flailing to get a grip on your senses and reaching out to your oh-so-innocent husband for help. he often chastises himself for this… dirty behavior, but the devil in his mind gleefully reminds him that this counts as research. the test subject just happened to be his trusting partner for life.

⇢ tighnari isn’t above imprisonment. it’s less for the thought of protecting you and more for his personal benefit. he likes to tell himself this is strictly research, but he can’t deny the awestruck look on his face as he greedily eats up every expression of your drugged face. when you grasp onto his clothes and lean on him for support… it makes him shudder with delight. you’re so cute when your system is laced with drugs, and even cuter when you look at him like he’s your entire world. he wants you to rely on him… and in turn, he wants to abuse that over reliance.

“you look better like this,” he murmurs as he brushes your freshly bathed hair. your figure is slumped in your chair like a doll, which isn’t far from the truth from how he handles you like one. he holds you gently, like porcelain, but you don’t react. you are too knocked out from the dose he had slipped into your tea awhile ago. he leans into your face, tutting at the dark circles under your eyes. “look at this… clear neglect of your health. i keep telling you to sleep, but you never listen to me, do you?” he sighs before focusing his attention back to your hair. “you’re so stubborn sometimes, you know. i barely know what to do with you.” he spends the next few moments in silence, rubbing cream into and ointments into your face. you smell slightly of lemongrass now, thanks to the bath he’s given you. tomorrow when you wake up, you will marvel at the softness of your skin and the clearness of your mind, before you throw yourself into another week of overwork. like always. tighnari regrets giving you the sleeping drug now. maybe he should’ve added a dose of the aphrodisiac drug he’s just finished. with the way his feline eyes zero into your blissful face and the eager swaying of his tail, he can just barely hold himself back now.

[ “aaah, i’ve run out of your meds again. oh, don’t you worry, i’ll make you some more. it’s nice how your body is so… receptive to my medicine ♡” ]

— JUDICATOR OF SECRETS. cyno | κύων 

[ “... we’re married… …what? i honestly didn’t think i’d come this far.” ]

⇢while there’s no other man you could imagine to spend the rest of your life with, you’re inwardly groaning about the amount of dad jokes you have to put up with later on in life. sure, you love cyno’s goofy lil personality, but you think you can only take too many stupid jokes before you go crazy. you voice this concern to cyno, who just gives you a reassuring hand on your shoulder and says he can handle you just fine if you do. you’re not quite sure what this implies.

⇢ quite sulky, but he refuses to own up to the fact. sometimes you get a little distracted with one of the neighborhood children, start chatting up one of the kind neighbors, or meet one of your co-workers. you tend to get a little bit distracted by them, and while cyno believes that he’s not overly bothered by this, he admits that he is a little bit miffed about you not paying attention to them. he also gets pouty when work starts taking up of your time and you start to neglect him, so expect him to just shut the laptop close and demand you to eat dinner with him without rushing to get your job done. 

⇢ he used to scare the neighborhood kids away with just one look and you always had to comfort him and pat him on the back in sympathetic understanding. “maybe you’ll get them next time,” you had joked, handing him an ice cream as he sulked on the park’s bench. “one of your jokes should do the trick.” you really shouldn’t have suggested that, because after another trip to the park he stared those kids down with his same stoic expression and cracked one of the corniest jokes known to man. every kid looked at him like he was stupid. now no one takes him seriously. well, at least they like playing with him now???

⇢ overprotective, like over overprotective. he knows you can handle going outside the house on your own, and hell, he might have no qualms with your workplace. but the more you complain, the more paranoid he gets until he’s staking out the site for himself. touchy co-workers? cruel bosses? he could easily have their corpses fed to the dogs. he is a protector of justice, after all, and what is justice but not killing those who lay a hand on their partner?

⇢ it’s not very easy to just push him over the edge, but he can and has the will to lock you away. it’s the modern world, no one’s going to have it out for a salary worker slaving day in and out for a corporation, but still. he’s made plenty of enemies when he was still in the force and there’s a paranoia eating at him whenever you go out of the front door. when he does lock you away, he’s as gentle as he can be, even with the stench of blood all over him. this is all for your sake after all, and he couldn’t bear to see you hurt when he had the power of protecting you.

“cy,” you huff in exasperation, looking up from your laptop as he glares down at you from behind it. “what in the world are you talking about? they’re my co-worker, my superior. you can’t just tell me to stop talking to them. i need their help!” “what help could you possibly need from them when you have me?” he huffs back, crossing his arms. “i’m telling you. they’re dangerous. i… i just know it, okay?” “what could a retired general possibly know about handling excel sheets?” when his face falters, you sigh and shut the laptop closed. “look, i know you just want to protect me and i appreciate that, really. but come on, cy, don’t be unreasonable.” the pressed line of his lips tells you that he has something against being called that, but you press on. “the company does background checks on their employees. it’s safe, i promise.” you press a kiss on his cheek and smile at him. “sit here and calm yourself down, okay? i’ll handle dinner tonight.” he watches your back as you disappear into the kitchen, humming a bright tune that offsets the stormy look in his eyes. he could tell you all about his time in the workforce— the violations he’s made, the blood on his hands, and the enemies he’s made— but he won’t. not if it means breaking this beautiful life he’s created with you. but that’s okay, that’s fine. he’s been trained to adapt to the situation and to work with the shadows.

[ “even if you don’t have a care in the world… i’ll be right behind you. wherever. whenever.” ]

[cringe--is--dead]

𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝔻𝕠 𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕊𝕚𝕔𝕜

Incl. Umemiya, Hiragi, Tsubakino, Choji, Togame

Umemiya

Having grown up in a group home, Umemiya knows how to be the best care giver ever

That being said: he’s also insanely clingy and affectionate on his worst days

He’s attentive to a T

With Kotoha’s help he’s bringing you homemade soup, full of fresh veggies from his garden

He’s making you tea and keeping water bottles near by whenever you even mention wanting a drink

Sends his four kings out to watch over while he’s with you because he refuses to leave your side until your healthy— doesn’t matter if it’s a cold or the flu

Still cuddles with you, despite you telling him he’ll get sick— he tells you his love and affection will make you feel better

Whenever your fever spikes he’s quickly getting a wet cloth, laying it on your forehead and humming a wordless tune or telling you stories softly

He’s there to wake you up whenever you have fever induced nightmares, and holds your hair back if you rush to the bathroom to be sick

If you even feel the tiniest bit insecure because you feel gross and greasy he shuts that down: by telling you:

“In sickness and in health!” “That’s— those are wedding vows?” “Ha, yeah! But think of them as…pre-engagement, pre-wedding vows now! Hey— your face is all red, did your fever spike again?”

If you’re far enough into your relationship he’ll help you bathe: his hands are gentle as he washes your hair, no wandering touches as he helps you clean your body

He’s so soft you nearly fall asleep in the water, lulled into a serene peace by his soft voice and gentle touches

He combs your hair once it’s dry enough, braiding it to keep it out of your face and wrapping you your freshly washed sheets you have no idea when he had time to clean

Overall; 11/10 to take care of you when you’re sick

Even if he does end up getting sick himself after

Hiragi

You probably got sick after he warned you to bring your coat with you or not to stay up too late let’s be real

Dad sighs and twitching eyes

But he’s buying all the best meds and electrolyte drinks

I personally believe this man knows how to cook so he’s making you homemade soup, congee and other things his mom used to make him when he was sick

Brings a type of lemon “candy” that helps with your throat, knows they work because he keeps them on him in case Kaji needs them

He stays with you, but he gives you space

1. Because he needs to make sure he doesn’t get sick— he has to take care of you firstly, and secondly he cannot let Umemeiya free of him for too long

2. Because he knows you’ll want space occasionally; to sleep, to rest, to regenerate your social battery

While you nap he’s cleaning around; washing and folding clothes, doing dishes, organizing your mail— he’s completely husband material

When you want him near he’ll have you lay your head on his lap, and he’ll run his fingers through your hair and read to you— literally any book you choose he’ll read without hesitation

He’ll be so attentive and supportive when you’re sick, and he makes sure to continue to give you vitamins even after to help you avoid being sick again

But even when you are he’ll be there again

15/10 he’s just so HUSBAND MATERIAL

Tsubakino

LOOK

if there’s one thing anyone knows about me it’s I am a Tsubaki stan first and a human second

that being said

I imagine him taking care of you being sick is, while sweet, also a bit panicky

I imagine he has this weirdly insane immune system so he’s hardly ever gotten sick, and he’s also an only child so this isn’t super familiar territory

but he tries

does so much research he might go a bit overboard

“My darling! I got cough medicine, fever reducers, cooling masks, some cough drops Hiragi suggested! I got some water bottles and Suo-chan suggested different teas— I wasn’t sure which one would be best so I got all six! Nirei-chan said to get electrolytes so I got different flavors of those! And Kotoha-chan made soup! And congee! And I can order more, in fact I have a few different soups on the way!”

he just hates seeing you feel so bad

he’s a ball of nerves around you, always checking in on you and asking what you want, what you need, what you’d like

you can’t even be annoyed he’s so sweet

he helps you bathe, much like Umemiya, he’s sweet and attentive

he brings over his own stuff too; bathbombs, shower steamers, hair masks, face masks

he can’t make the illness disappear but you’ll at least feel clean and good on the outside

he takes his time with your hair and face, and he’s basically your personal masseuse in the bath

you’re never felt so relaxed despite being as sick as a dog

even though you’re sick he’s still quick to press kisses to your cheeks and forehead, face red from fever, embarrassment, and lipstick stains now

paints your nails while you rest with a cold press on your head, tells you about the latest debacle between Umemeiya and Hiragi and Sugishita and Sakura

by a miracle he doesn’t get sick

and he stores all the leftover meds and electrolytes (there’s a lot) between your place and his so he’s prepared next time

overall: 1000000/10

realistically: 10/10 (but always 100000/10 in my eyes)

Choji

oh boy

o h b o y

let it be known you try to hide the fact you’re sick from him for as long as possible

read: you fail

he’s showing up at like 7am, waking you up and charging in

did he bring anything?

of course

he’s brought snacks

not healthy ones

you’re not hungry because you’re nauseous, so he just stores them in your fridge and comes to cuddle you

he’ll wait on your every command don’t get me wrong

want water? he’s grabbing you a glass

need to go to the bathroom? he’s helping you up and walking you there, waiting outside the door and helping you back

bored? he’ll tell you all the thoughts in his head! and there’s a lot!

hungry? he’s grabbing those snacks for you!

he’s attentive and sweet, but he definitely is spoiled by Togame so much he’s not entirely sure how to take care of a sick person

but he’s strong so he’ll just beat your illness for you!

he’ll hold you while you rest, turn your fan on when you say you’re hot, turn it off when you’re cold

he tries to braid your hair while you rest, it’s messy but he tried

he ends up getting sick before you’re even better yourself

now Togame is tasked with coming to your place and taking care of both of you

overall: 7/10

he tries he really does

but he charges in with no instructions and just love

which is great but doesn’t treat the flu

Togame

he probably has taken care of an ill choji (^) so he knows what he’s doing

the patience of a saint holy—

he comes to see you when you’re asleep, and he’s silent as he unpacks stuff from the nearby convention store

you wake up startled at him just chilling, probably drinking a ramune and reading something

he keeps his voice soft as he asks if you’re hungry or thirsty

helps you sit up as he hands you a water bottle, and if your hands are too shaky he’d holding it for you to drink out of

he won’t even let you open your mouth to apologize before he’s giving you that stupidly soft smile and telling you he’s happy to take care of you

he keeps the curtains shut so the light in your room is dim, and he brings in candles with your favorite scent so the lights don’t hurt your eyes and the scent helps you feel calmer

not much of a cook himself when it comes to specific food to help you, but he grabbed take out on the way and heats up the perfect portions whenever you’re hungry

not too much so you leave food on the plate but not too little so you’re still hungry after

the man that he is

can definitely see him massaging your hands, your arms and your shoulders cause you’re tense from feeling ill

keeps a bucket or a bag nearby in case you get sick and can’t make it to the toilet

does a little braid to keep your hair out of your face, jokes about how he learned how to braid his hair so he’d he perfect at it for you

tries to brew you tea, and either burns it or under-steeps it

you both opt for just water for the time being

doesn’t get sick, but definitely sleeps for an entire day after you’re healthy

you both do actually— a long sleep cuddled up together

overall; 13/15 i think i made myself fall more in love with him

[ghostieblr]

he knows

When people ask him what changed his mind, why he's back in Beacon Hills instead of at the fancy FBI job he earned through merit and luck, he just smiles and laughs it up. Insists this is how it just worked out. That the job was good, and being in the field was surprisingly easy for him, but the remote research work landed on his lap once and he realized he'd much rather do that. Working the field was great, but being able to actually spend time with his old man gives him more joy.

The old ladies call him a good man, tell him he's such a good son, and share their own turmoils with him. The old men sneer at his choice until he lets slip just how much he makes, and then they're singing praises, too.

After a couple of weeks, the noise dies down. He is no longer the novelty, the townspeople ready to move on to the next new, shiny thing that catches their attention.

What doesn't die down is whatever is spreading inside him. The burn under his skin is licking up towards his heart, coming out through his pores, charring him to immobility as the sun dips down and comes back up.

After week three, he's unable to move from the bed, and none of their research is bringing about any clues. No one knows why this is happening to him, and they have all accepted this.

That he is going to die. There's no coming back, no cure for this sudden illness that has taken him. None of the books that Deaton provides, that Lydia translates and pours her time into, have a single clue.

It's not as painful, if he's honest. Not now. It was at the beginning, the heat sudden and startling, the pain that comes with it bright and unending. But he's been with it for a while now, gotten used to the constant warmth. A false sense of security.

The only thing left for him is to stop feeling altogether. At the rate his body is shutting down, it's not too far, now. Another day or two, maybe three if he's unlucky.

He's said his goodbyes. Told his father to keep on living, to not only honor the memory of mom, but his, too. There's grief laced in each of their interactions, each word spoken with a weight that brings tears to Stiles' eyes and a tremble that rocks his father's body. It's an ugly sight, and it so happens to be his last. Nearly his last.

His dad's a strong man, he'll survive. He's enlisted the help of Lydia to do so. Asked her to be the child he'll not get to be for him. Through teary eyes she had agreed, and he's watched the two of them get closer in their quest of trying to heal him, and then grieve him. She's like the daughter he never had, and she is good for him. Stops him from drinking alcohol and makes him healthy food, even when he refuses to listen, and Stiles can do nothing but lay on his bed as the voices float up from the kitchen.

Scott and him never did resolve their differences. Scott's been a part of his life enough to warrant him a last goodbye, and despite everything that has happened, Scott promised to him to be there for his dad. He promised many things, but has delivered none, and has only been by to see him on day one — when Stiles had allowed Lydia to bring in the McCall Pack to help him cure himself.

It's as if Stiles being dead was an accepted outcome for him, and Scott has grieved him to the point of utter indifference since. If he's grieving in silence that's another thing, but for now, Stiles isn't dead. People do come in and see him.

Lydia, of course. His dad. Jackson flew from London to come see him, and he hasn't left since, feet set like stone in Beacon Hills, despite the final acceptance of their failure. Isaac came with Jackson, and it's so silly, he thinks, that being on the verge of death can bring together people you would never see in one place by choice.

Kira has stopped by multiple times, as have Malia, Liam, Mason, Jordan, and surprisingly, Hayden. She insisted he's a hero, and cried while hugging him.

Scott hasn't come again. And, honestly, it's not as bothersome to Stiles as someone else not coming in to see him.

Cora has face-timed him, and Peter was there, he knows. The two of them were there, and when he'd asked about Derek, Cora had snapped out, "He's an idiot," while Peter had calmly told Stiles, "He's determined."

Stiles is smart enough to put together the fact that Derek has been pursuing his own leads to find the cure, but he'd hoped that once the finality of his situation reached him, he'd see Derek one last time.

He wouldn't burden Derek with the knowledge of his own feelings. Wouldn't confess like in the fairytales, and hope for a true love's miracle. Stiles is honest to himself these days, and he'd rather go with unconfessed feelings than burden Derek, because somewhere in their interactions, Stiles has developed a pure hatred for anything that could even remotely hurt Derek.

He supposes this is love, and how ironic is it, that this is the most intense feeling he's ever had, and he can't even speak aloud about it?

So he lounges in his bed, waiting for the light to take him. Each time he closes his eyes he knows he's closer to never opening them again, and tonight, as he hears Lydia turn the pages of a book, and Jackson walking outside in the hallway, and his dad sobbing in his own room, and Isaac cooking, he just wishes tonight's the night. He cannot have the people he care about clinging onto false hope.

He closes his eyes, and behind his eyelids, he sees his family. He sees his mom, beckoning him; his parents, smiling, as he runs towards them for a family hug; Lydia, when she told him she loves him in the Jeep, and the night when he came back, declaring that he's not supposed to leave her, ever; Jackson and Isaac laughing at his expense, but not in a mean way, instead enjoying each other's company like the friends they've become these days; Derek, as the last time Stiles saw him, smiling softly at him while he rambled on about the way he convinced the FBI to let him join the mission that saved Derek's ass.

He remembers, with immense clarity, the moment he realized he's in love with Derek. The heartbreak of saying goodbye to him, of watching his brows furrow at the clear lie of, "You should go," and hesitant step forward he'd taken before realizing it.

He'd said, "You should go or Cora will leave," and left the, "I want her to," unsaid.

He sleeps, and wishes to dream about a world where Derek didn't leave and things happened differently. Where somehow, they found their way to each other, and Stiles never got ill like this.

Instead, he dreams about a purple light guiding him to a tunnel that simply looks white, like that is all there is.

He follows.

He doesn't wake up, again.

At least, that's what he thinks — until his eyes open and he's face-to-face with —

"Derek?"

*

The whole place is white. The only splash of color exists on Stiles himself, his clothes rumpled with sleep, and on Derek, whose jeweled eyes are shimmering with unshed tears and sparkling joy.

"Derek, what the hell did you do?!"

Derek doesn't deem that a question worthy of replying. Instead the werewolf picks him up and hugs him so tight Stiles worries about not being able to breathe, and then realizes, with a startling clarity, that he is not in pain.

Still in embrace, he asks, a little choked up, "Why am I not in pain?"

Derek takes an exaggerated sniff before reluctantly pulling back and fixing him with a look that screams of resplendent joy, but also like he's waiting for a reprimand. He says, "This is Bardo."

Stiles stills. "Bardo," he repeats. He's dived into enough books to hear what Derek is leaving unsaid. Bardo is where spirits go after dying. It's an in-between space for spirits with unfinished business, one that opens only on a land with a Nemeton on it. Beacon Hills fits the criteria for it, and Stiles the criteria for having wishes he didn't get in his life, but he doesn't... He doesn't fit the other criteria. "Derek Nobody Will Tell Me What Your Middle Name Is Hale, that place — which apparently is this place, what the hell — is for supernatural spirits. Me?" He laughs, humorless and frantic. "I am not a supernatural creature. I'm just a human who used to run with a Pack."

Derek's worry melts away into nothing, as if Stiles would miss the fact that for Derek to be here, he has to be dead.

"Don't think I don't understand that you're dead, too! Deliberately!"

There. That is the face of a chastised puppy. "But it worked?" Stiles squints his eyes and motions for Derek to go on, who sighs but complies with the command. "The illness that took you was a Supernatural fever, last recorded with a Spark centuries ago. I tracked down the journal —"

"Wait, hold on, Spark? Where have I heard that word..." The Vet clinic, years ago. The Kanima in the club. The mountain ash line that never should have formed because there was much too less of it to complete the circle. As the realization hits, he closes his eyes and rests his fists against them. He isn't ashamed to let out a scream of rage as well.

When he lets his arms fall back down to his side, Derek takes one of them and starts rubbing comforting circles on the back of his hand. "You are one," he says softly, like he's trying not to spook Stiles with the declaration. Like Stiles' world didn't just shift irrevocably as he put the pieces together. "I don't really understand why your powers never unlocked, because traditionally speaking they should have kicked in your teen years. With the added clusterfuck of those years they definitely should have. They did not."

Again, he laughs humorlessly, and gives Derek a "duh" look. "Our lives have rarely dared to be traditional." He thinks back to all the awful things that have happened over the years to him, but mostly, as Derek put it, in those years. The Nogitsune was definitely the worst thing to happen to him, and holy shit. "Do you think it chose me because of my power? Rather than her?"

Derek doesn't answer for a moment. Then he says, "I think that is why you survived. Because of your Spark."

Oh. That... makes sense. Sort of. But that is the past, and they're in the present, and they're in fucking Bardo of all places. "Derek, I think I really need an explanation. Like right now. Including why you thought killing yourself was the best fucking idea."

Derek winces, but he also looks determined once Stiles' glare eases off of him. And they're still holding hands, which he realizes with a warmth he actually enjoys feeling. "When I got the call, I had an inkling... So I followed my instincts and ended up at probably our oldest vault."

"You knew what I am." He doesn't even feel angry. Somehow, Derek knowing a thing about him that nobody else does (and he is not counting Deaton as a factor here at all, that cryptic asshole), it feels nice.

Derek uses his free hand to tap at his chest, once, twice. "Instincts," he says, with the same effect as saying, "Werewolf," like he once used to, as if that was the answer to everything. "This illness confirmed it for me. I found a journal at the vault that belonged to that Spark, and in it, he detailed how the illness felt, how it spread, and how within weeks he could do nothing but lay on his cot." Derek swallows, his voice turning rough with choked up emotions. "Stiles, just reading it was so awful. I can't imagine..."

Derek Hale doesn't cry. He feels deeply, and he cares even deeper, but he doesn't cry, not in front of people.

But Stiles is not most people, and he is aware enough to know that he is, for some reason, one of the people who is most important to Derek. So as Derek breaks down at the idea of Stiles' suffering, Stiles reaches forward and brings his arms around Derek.

"I'm here," he assures, over and over again, until the words are stronger than Derek's shaking. "I'm right here," he says one last time, and stays close to the man he loves most for an indeterminate amount of time, silently not-breathing together.

Stiles breaks the silence with, "I love you, you know?" He had promised to not say it to Derek. To not burden him. But here they are, in Bardo. Together. A Pack of two who would do all that is possible and all that is not to protect the other. Derek deserves to know he is loved.

The way Derek's arms tighten around him says he doesn't know. And when Derek pulls back, just a little to stare at Stiles like this is unbelievable, Stiles pulls him back in by grabbing his hands and putting one on his chest, the other on his face. He kisses the inner palm of the latter, and smiles brightly. "Never thought I'd say it. Especially once I was on my deathbed. Still hate that you chose to die with me, but I'm hoping you have a plan, and you deserve to know. You're amazing and I love you, Derek Hale."

The smile he gets is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, and Derek presses forward until their foreheads are resting against each other's. "Samuel," he says.

"Derek Samuel Hale? Samuel like Sam and Dean's grandpa?"

Derek does a snort-chortle thing, then says in the small space between them, "Shut up, Stiles."

"Shutting up."

The silence stretches, and they stay together, seizing the moment. Who knew Bardo could be peaceful? Except...

"Our escape plan? See, I'd love to explore you biblically anywhere and everywhere, but I would much rather do it on —"

"Stiles."

Derek's look of scandalized horror makes Stiles laugh until he's being hauled off in his strong, muscled arms like a sack of potatoes and starts walking. "I don't know why I love you too."

"This is just sexy. I don't think you know what you're doing to me."

"I can still smell your arousal, Stiles. I know."

"You know loads of things. What else do you know?" He says it in a simpering, sexy voice, and then giggles as Derek stumbles a step before balancing himself.

"I know how to escape. We need a bed, yes? So stop distracting me and let me do my thing."

Stiles is just glad he is already in Derek's arms, because otherwise he would have swooned and fallen into them.

The escape plan is easy and a let down, if he's being completely honest. What they need are:

A Spark's Belief ✅️

An Alpha's Roar ✅️ (When did Derek become an Alpha again?)

An Anchor on The Other Side ✅️ (Peter)

An Incantation That Derek Has Memorized ✅️

To Stand Where The Veil is Thinnest ✅️ (Derek's instincts strike yet again)

All in all, it is very anti-climactic, and very dirty as they end up materializing in a clearing near the Nemeton which is muddy. Peter looks one look at them and says, "Finally."

Stiles isn't sure if he meant it for them coming back or for Stiles and Derek finally confessing to each other. Either way, Peter hands them clean clothes and agrees to drive them back to Stiles' house, where apparently everyone is in a panic because "Stiles dissappeared."

"It's only been like, an hour or something," Stiles says, confused, as he changes into the clean t-shirt while Peter faces the other way and Derek stares, unabashed, much to Peter's verbal disgust.

Peter takes a break from chastising his nephew to say, "It's been 72 hours."

Huh.

"We should get going then," he says, and Peter sighs.

"If only you could ask my dear nephew to rein in his urges."

Stiles throws Derek a glare, who rolls his eyes but obliges. However the glare the turns into an appreciative look over Derek's abs, and Peter throws up his hands.

*

Acclimating to having magic is easy when he already has an anchor. Derek's presence is both wanted and needed, and despite Scott's insistence that another Alpha cannot stay in town, Derek stays as long as Stiles does.

Two weeks pass before Stiles calls back his boss and lets her know that he's now alright, and then he's promptly being shipped off to another state for a case. Everyone has already congratulated him on both being alive and doing something about his pining, so they throw a simple dinner on his last night in town and Stiles watches, with amusement and fondness, as all the people in his heart mingle with easy conversations and banter.

Peter chooses to stay in town to reconnect with Malia in person, while Cora deems it better to go back to her Pack in South America. Lydia and Jackson leave together for London, but Isaac decides to stay back.

When Stiles asks him why, he says, "Liam needs a good mentor. His control is weak. I can help him, plus, Derek needs a pack."

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Liam is Scott's beta," he says.

"None of them have a pack bond," Isaac fire backs, and oh.

Derek must have heard the conversation, too, because he comes over and claps Isaac on the back, proud and all smiley, and Stiles can't help but lean in to kiss it. To taste the constant joy off of Derek's face, to give him his own in return. The action is met with Derek's soft moan and a ring of disgusted groaning from the others, including his dad's.

Stiles laughs after he pulls back, and looks around at the lot of them. There's tragedy woven into all of their lives, but there's also happiness.

Who knew getting ill would lead to this? To re-founding a family?

Maybe Derek knew, the bastard. Loveable bastard, though.

[fiber-optic-alligator]

GOING TO TRY AND SLIP THIS IN REAL QUICK

Uh can I request some first contact au soft vore swindle (any) with a human he found maybe when humans first started getting taken?

It took me ten years and I am absolutely exhausted but HERE IS THE SWINDLE FIC!!! I, um, forgot to add vore, but there is an allusion to it, so I hope you'll still enjoy this! I'm so sorry it took me so long to write :(

How To Discover A New Species And Make Money Off Of It (Totally Ethical Strategies Which Break No Laws)

Pairing: Swindle x Human Reader (First Contact Au)

Word Count: 2462

Summary: After traveling to Earth on a mission to locate rumored Energon deposits, Swindle discovers a new species in which he quickly realizes he can make quite a big amount of money off of...and they are called humans. Capturing you and deciding you will be the ambassador of his newest endeavor, you have no choice but to let Swindle rope you into a twisted plan where he hopes to turn humans into the popular Cybertronian pets.

  The planet is a small, diminutive thing: a piece of space rock cast out into far reaches, reeking of organic growth that shows itself in shades of dark green, desolate brown, deep blue, and patches of puffy white swirling above everything else in the form of physical moisture. Its closest neighbors are all wastelands, either long abandoned by their inhabitants, or completely devoid of anything to begin with. Earth, as it is registered in Cybertron’s database, is the only planet in this backwater area of the galaxy to host life. It’s an insignificant sphere, circling an insignificant sun, in an insignificant solar system. No one would be caught here, simply because there is nothing to see.

  Yet, here Swindle is, doing just that. Staring out at the mud puddle planet, he wonders how he ever thought accepting a job here would turn out to be profitable. The talks of Energon deposits being found on Earth had been too much to ignore. Such claims are typically rumors started by mechs with far too much time on their servos: fables of the purest Energon ever discovered hiding deep beneath the soil of places such as this one. If he were younger, Swindle would have fallen for the stories on the spot. Many newbies do. They think they’re making it big, wasting energy blasting off to no-name systems, ready to pour their resources into expeditions that always yield no crop. Fads fade. Stories end. And Swindle is not new to his trade.

  He does his research. He interviews those he deems noteworthy. He takes notes. He’s careful. Ultimately, results prove Earth definitely has something. Energon? Eh, he’s not too sure. But his intel tells him it's something he can make shanix off of. A boon. A land mine of opportunity.

  So he’s taken the chance. But now that he’s here, with his ship gradually getting closer and closer to the planet, he’s beginning to believe his research might have yielded false information. Earth is looking far from profitable, and he can tell no Cybertronian faction has made contact with its surface yet. It surprises him; Autobots and Decepticons, despite their countless differences, are extremely good at the art of colonization, whether accidental or intentional. It seems like practically every planet in the universe has been touched by his species in one shape or form. But no such thing can be found here. His ship’s systems aren’t picking up on a single Cybertronian satellite or base. It might very well be possible that he is the first to ever lay optics upon Earth.

  This was a bad idea, he thinks. High chances will be that his search will bring up nothing. He could turn his ship around now and head off to places where his time will be better spent. He won’t regret it. Probably.

  He continues looking at Earth and vents a frustrated exhale through his intake. Whatever. He’s here anyway. Might as well take a look around.

  The forest his ship lands in has various creatures frantically darting out of harm’s way when it makes contact with the ground and stabilizes its support footing. With a hiss, the bay doors open, and he steps out slowly, his optics quickly adjusting to take in Earth’s light. It's all…very green. There’s a slight wind whistling between the leaves, making them rustle with a strange noise Swindle isn’t used to. He cringes and considers retreating back aboard the ship, then decides against it. His external diagnostics register no visible threats in the immediate area. He’ll be fine. After all, what organic would pick a fight with a giant alien robot such as himself?

  He types some instructions into his data pad. A panel opens on the side of the ship, and out comes a scouting drone, the perfect way for him to get a Seeker’s eye view of the terrain. “Alright,” he murmurs to himself. “Here we go. Let’s see what this planet is hiding.”

  The drone cycles and whirrs, then darts up into the air. Its video feed translates onto the data pad, giving him a clear aerial picture. At this vantage point, he can see that this forest he’s landed in stretches on for a long time. The drone picks up on various sorts of metals: his universal translation tool registers these as iron, copper, even gold. Sounds quite expensive, but they aren’t what he’s looking for. He types in a primary locating directive. Find Energon.

  A few cycles pass, and still, he locates nothing. Just more green and strange lifeforms he couldn’t care less about. Swindle grumbles and wishes he brought some drinks with him to pass the time. There definitely isn’t any Energon here, and that frustrates him beyond measure. But it is a big planet by organic standards…just because Energon isn’t in this immediate location doesn’t mean his search is a total loss. He worries at his lower derma in thought. Perhaps he should check the polar caps next…or maybe the equatorial region?

  Snap.

  His audial processors immediately pick up on the noise. Intrusion. Whipping around, he has his gun out in an instant, the barrel revving up with pulsing energy, eager to incinerate whatever is in its path.

  What stands before him-or below him-is a lifeform. A strange, fleshy being standing on two skinny legs with equally skinny arms. It stares up at him with big, alien eyes, and it’s flappy mouth parts in what he can only assume to be surprise. Swindle blinks, then slowly lowers the gun.

  “Well, well, well,” he says, snapping the weapon away and crouching down with a curious tilt of the helm. “What…are you?” All of the natives he's seen so far are either quadrupedal or avian. This animal is neither; it stands like he does, yet clearly displays the qualities of subpar intelligence. It hasn’t done a single thing so far. It’s just…there. Staring. Perhaps a fright response? Does it think he can’t see it because it’s so still?

  “You certainly aren’t Energon.” He clicks his derma, thinking. “But you are interesting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen something quite like you before.” He wonders, is it friendly? He does a quick scan and comes to the satisfying conclusion that the creature-you-doesn’t harbor any natural defenses against his kind. He could break you in half like a stick with little-to-no pressure required. He extends a servo, intending to be friendly.

  You finally snap into action and stumble back, letting out a yelp. He can’t help laughing when you fall over onto your aft, minuscule digits digging uselessly into the forest floor. Primus, you are pathetic. No claws, no antlers, no wings…what purpose do you serve for this planet? Your species definitely must be at critical risk of extinction.

  Yet…he feels his spark soften when he observes your trembling body and listens to your soft squeaks. You…you’re adorable. Swindle is a hardened soul, one who doesn’t fall for the idea of cute easily. Yet you’ve managed to make him want to say “Awww” after looking at you for less than five cycles. Is this your way of self-preservation? Can you somehow influence the feelings of others in order to escape danger?

  He wants to know more. He’s intrigued by you. Snapping his digits, he reaches forward. “C’mere, little thing. Let’s get a better look at you.”

  Your face contorts into an expression of pure panic, and you fumble away from his looming servo, a startled shriek leaving you. But unfortunately for you, he’s far too quick, and snatches you into a fist before your tiny brain can keep up with his movements. You immediately begin struggling, letting out these sharp squeaks and desperate chatters. Swindle sighs and gives you a very patient look. “Quit squirming, alright? I swear I’m not going to hurt you as long as you don’t hurt me. Though I’m guessing you probably can’t. You’re barely taller than my index digit. Why are you so small, huh?”

  He turns you over and observes you from every angle, being careful not to rough you up too much. You wear fabrics over your body and a weird sort of bag against your back. Swindle easily slips it off of you and holds it to one optic, scanning its inner contents. Just paper books and a weird ocular device. He snorts and throws it away, disinterested. You don’t seem to like this and begin pushing at his digits with a frantic desperation that has him chuckling.

  “That’s not going to do much for you.” He brings you closer to his face and inhales your scent. A pleasant, woodsy aroma that only seems to permeate from organics fills his olfactory sensors and makes him shiver with delight. “How wonderful. You smell amazing. Almost on par with Energon.”

  Oh. That reminds him. He’s here to find Energon, not ogle at weird little Earth creatures. He sighs and shifts you to his left servo so he can recall his drone. “Not much here to see besides you, pipsqueak,” he mutters as he watches the vessel speed back over to his ship and return to its charging panel. “Let’s go do some further exploring of this planet, alright? I think I’d like to hold onto you for a bit longer.” He smiles down at you. “You’re kind of cute. You don’t mind hanging out with good ol’ Swindle, do ya?”

  You certainly do mind, with the way you continue to wriggle around with your arms flailing. Scared squeaks turn into angry growls, with you narrowing your eyes and puffing up to express your indignation. He watches you, then revs his engine and bares his denta, growling back at you with such a loud rumble, it sends a frenzy of avians flapping from the tops of the trees.

  You snap your mouth shut and shrink back, any rebellious bravado previously displayed disappearing with the avians. Swindle grins satisfactorily. “You try and bite,” he says. “I bite back harder. Now be a good Earthling and enjoy the ride, alright? I’ll let you go once I’m bored of you.”

  He walks slowly, taking his time not to accidentally knock a tree over or step on an accidental organic. You are quiet and oddly still, except for your constant vibrations which almost have him feeling rather guilty for scaring you into submission…almost. Glancing down at you, he watches the way you lower your head to hide your face beneath the cover of your hair. Liquid drips down onto his digit.

  Ah. You’re leaking from your eyes. Crying. He didn’t know Earth animals could do that. He raises the end of his thumb and runs it lightly over your cheeks, wiping them away. “Don’t do that, little one, come on,” he says in the most soothing tone he can muster. “You don’t have to be scared of me. I’m just your friendly neighborhood salesbot, yeah? Just a guy trying to survive like every other punk in the universe. Why would I hurt you?”

  You sniffle and peer at him with those big, soulful eyes. And oh, now you’ve done it. You’ve struck an arrow straight into his spark. A soft gasp escapes him, and he tilts your head back further. “By Primus, I have never seen something as cute as you. So soft…so small…” He ruffles your hair and earns himself a chirp as you swat his digit away. “Ha, and feisty too. I wonder…just how much would a bot pay to buy you as a pet?”

  The gears begin turning. A new idea shows itself to Swindle as the prospect of a tantalizingly lucrative step into an industry he hasn’t bothered contemplating until now. Cybertronians, for all of their ingrained brutality, love pets. He thinks it's because his kind are so war-torn, so used to the bloody, the disgusting, the traumatic. So many veterans on all factional sides own cuddly therapy companions which aid them in their long road to recovery. Helio hamsters, cyber dogs and cats, even glitch mice and turbofoxes…not to mention various other non-Cybertronian native animals hailing from other planets across the cosmos. Yes, the pet trade for mechs is quite popular, and he knows it won’t lose its momentum any time soon.

  So why can’t he get into it?

  If Swindle was to suddenly return to Cybertron with a new creature…a tiny, delicate lifeform from the distant Earth, advertised as the perfect companion for any bot…he could begin a whole business. Gentle, squishy, and oh-so cute! A lifelong companion who engages with you and offers the ultimate form of loyalty! Buy one for your sparklings, your conjunx, or yourself! Yes, yes, he can see it now! He could make millions if he plays his cards right! Perhaps even billions if it really takes off!

  He brings out his data pad and holds it over you. If you’re going to sell, you’re going to need a proper name to sell with. “Scan lifeform,” he orders. “Identify.”

  The data pad is slow with it. Its light casts over you and makes you wince, giving a long, contemplative hum as its AI races through the Cybertronian web and searches for a clear species identification. When it finally lets out a pleasant beep and reveals all found information, Swindle swears he sees shanix flashing before his optics.

  Species: human. Homeworld: Earth. Status: Critically endangered. Not protected by the Prime Universal Protected Organisms Law. Known clients are estimated to start at…20,000 shanix.

  “20,000!” He whistles and grins delightedly. “Good Primus, you’re worth that much? Who knew I had such an expensive little twerp sitting right in the palm of my hand?” He laughs, ecstatic. Forget the Energon. What he can make off of you and the rest of your kind is twice as much as a regular run would get him. This is what has been hiding on Earth. This is the boon. The opportunity.

  He leers at you, not even seeing you as just a fascinating animal anymore. You’re a product to take advantage of, to sell, to milk for all of your worth. Swindle’s done it before. He likes to say it’s nothing personal, because it isn’t. After all, he’s just surviving, trying to earn a life like anyone else. When he looks into your terrified eyes and sees the way you go pale at the sight of his nearly crazed expression, he thinks about how many bots will be won over by this face, how he’ll be rolling in dough by the time he’s through with Earth.  “Listen to me, little one,” he says. “You and I are going to be very good business partners from now on. I think I’ll keep you as a showcase specimen. Which leads into my next question…where can I find more of you?”

[nymphomatique]

finally fucking nerd miguel but he cums after 5 secs being inside you but you won’t stop and just treat him like a toy and he’ll beg because he’s overstimulated but you don’t care cause it’s not your fault he cums fast right? 😌🥰

🫠 wow i got butterflies

cw: unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), reverse cowgirl, miguel can carry us idc how big you are, miguel cums early but you do NOT gaf, creampie, some praise, teeny bit of teasing, soft ending 🤫 also not proofread you guys know this by now fr. enjoy 🤭

“hey, miguel,” you whisper across from him. the two of you were at the library sharing a study table, miguel doing research on your genetic mutation paper while you shopped online. he lowers his laptop screen to look at you, still shy as ever around you. “yes?”

i look at him and smirk a little, mouthing the words ‘i wanna fuck’ to him. you can tell he immediately picks up on what you said when you see his ears redden and his head snap down to look back at the mess of books, loose paper and pens, and his laptop strewn across the table.

you stand up and put your laptop in your bag, leaving against the table waiting for him. “well?”

he packs up immediately.

back at your dorm, as soon as you two step foot inside you’ve already dropped your keys, making a move to kiss miguel rather suddenly. he drops both his backpack and your purse on the ground in shock at how hasty you’re being today. he makes haste to match your fervent attitude today, his newly empty hands coming up to your waist to hold you gently as your tongue sweeps across his own hungrily.

you pull apart from him, a small spit trail connecting the two of you together at your lips, and you bring one of your hands up, swiping off the spit from miguel’s plump and swollen lips. wordlessly, you watch eachother, each of your eyes communicating the burning need inside you both. you move your thumb from its resting place on miguel’s lip to push past the soft flesh, miguel sucking on your thumb. through his sucking, the two of you maintain eye contact and it sends a burning through you, miguel’s brown eyes void of his glasses in place for contacts staring at you with such vivid emotion. lust, want, need.

“take me to bed,” you speak, breaking the silence. “yes, mistress,” miguel responds, thumb still in his mouth. his hands move from their placement in your waist to ended your ass, his hands big, but ever so gentle with you despite how you treat him. he bends to get leverage to pick you up and as he comes back up, you jump up into him, legs wrapped around his thick frame and arms around his strong neck. he’s been going to the gym, you think.

wordlessly, miguel carries you over to your bed, the two of you pulled into a state of looking at eachother. he sits down at the edge of the bed, with you now sitting in his lap.

you push his chest so he’s laying back on the bed, and his shirt tugs up a little, revealing the small trail of hair sitting at his lower stomach and disappearing beneath his the elastic band of his boxers.

you push his shirt up and over his head, and throw it behind you. you move up to sit directly on miguel’s crotch. you’re sitting upright, your body con dress you wore riding up your thighs a bit, teasing miguel for what he’s so anxious to see. you look down at miguel, his breathing slightly quicker than average, his face painted in a light blush at the anticipation of what you two were about to do.

you bend down, laying on top of miguel now and his breathing hitches. you laugh a bit, his excitement no matter how much you do this with him a bit endearing. “you wanna know something?” you start, face hovering above his, looking down in his eyes. miguel swallows and his adams apple bobs up and down. “you’re such a good boy for me.” you start. one hand begins to trail up his lower abdomen, lightly brushing until your hand reaches his neck, resting without any pressure. “you’ve been such a good boy for me lately, that i’m finally gonna let you fuck me.” you emphasize with a curt squeeze. miguel licks his lips and lets out a steadying breath at the revelation.

“strip for me,” you say, getting off of him, ridding yourself of you dress leaving you in your pink lacy bra and thong set. miguel shucks off his pants and you watch when he pulls his boxers down, his cock springing up and hitting is lower stomach. he’s huge. you knew this, and sometimes you even indulged in miguel during oral by being vocal about how his big cock is so deep in my mouth. but knowing he was going to be inside you? a different ball park. it’s proportional to the rest of his ligaments, matching his big feet, wide hands, strapping build and towering height. you’d estimate that he’s about 9 inches long, the biggest you’ve ever taken.

aside from being big, it was so mouthwateringly pretty. it was a gorgeous tan colour matching the rest of his golden skin with a pink tip, leaking with pre cum already. two thin veins ran along the underside of him, with a trimmed black tuft of hair sitting pretty at the base. his balls were big and swollen, and with the amount he came in your mouth most days, you’re sure that he’d absolutely pump you full today.

“lay back for me,” you instruct, removing your bra and leaving only your panties on. he lays back and you sit, ass facing him in and sitting on your knees in reverse cowgirl. you look back at miguel over your shoulder and you’re sure he’s going to burst into tears at any given moment, the image of you in front of him like this, fat ass in his face with the little wet spot on your panties visible, any man with an attraction for women would look like him too.

you smirk at him, and reach behind you to move your panties to the side, exposing him your wet pussy. he lets out a stuttered breath at the image you can’t miss, and you feel a sense of pride swell in your chest. you grab his cock, warm and throbbing, and align it with your entrance. you tease him first, rubbing it along your wet folds and even brushing your clit. “tell me how bad you want it, miguel.”

“so- so fucking bad. please put it in? i want- need to feel you. ple- ah! please mistress.” when he’s done his babbling you sink down on his length, moaning at the burning stretch. “h-holy shit i’m gonna-“ and you feel something hot spurt inside you.

he came inside you.

you look back at him, deadpan expression on your face. he immediately is embarrassed and his face reddens, and the babbling apology starts. but you ignore him and lift your hips to slam them back down on his cock.

miguel’s hands jump to grab your hips, sputtering out a “t-too much, oh my god.” you roll your eyes at his audacity. “not my fault you can’t hold your load, man. you’re gonna keep going until i cum, no matter how much it is, got it?” you spit back, moving your hips up and down miguel’s length, feeling him hit every spot inside you.

“so deep inside, feels good,” you moan out. your hips are aching at the stretch of miguel’s dick, but it hurts too good to stop. “so fuckin’ big, baby. makin’ me- ah! making me feel so good,”

your words of praise give miguel a boost of encouragement, his hands on your hips pulling you back down on his length, his hips meeting you half way. his heavy balls begin to slap against your clit as he thrusts up into you, and the stimulation makes you shudder.

“i’m gonna cum, fuck. cum inside me. i wanna feel you inside me, miguel,” you moan, feeling light headed at the pressure deep in your gut. your hips are starting to slow down, but miguel doesn’t relent in his thrusts. he slams his hips up to meet yours and you feel like he’s in your throat. the erotic sound of miguel’s whining moans, the slapping of your skin, and your squealing at the pleasure is beginning to overwhelm you, and you feel your whole body go white with pleasure. “o-oh my god i’m cumming,” you manage to shake out.

miguel isn’t quite finished yet, he’s still fucking up into you through your orgasm and you swear your whole body goes numb. you’re cumming again. this time, miguel speeds up and with one last final thrust, he lifts his hips up into you and cums, letting out a heavy groan. you feel him begin to fill you up, some of his cum leaking out of you and onto his pelvis.

you’re both left breathless on the bed for a moment, relishing in the after moments of your orgasm. when you finally come to, you see miguel softly breathing, eyes closed. you move to lay in the crook of his arm and kiss his cheek, falling into the same breathing pattern, falling into unconscious bliss.

[revelboo]

Politely requesting some tfp ratchet when you're in the mood for his flavor of character🍀💕💕

Sure

The Weakends Pt 9

TFP Ratchet x Reader

• Back to this game again. Avoiding him and angry. And even understanding why, it doesn't make it any easier to deal with. You're not avoiding the base this time at least, probably because you know he'll just go bring you back again. Unfortunately, you're as stubborn as he is and he knows you're not going to back down. Not until he admits that he's not okay. That he's exhausted and so tired of the fighting. That he's not recharging because the nightmares come for him when he shutters his optics and because he needs to keep working. Keep researching for viable energon alternatives. They’re all depending on him and he can’t let them down.

• Feeling those optics on you, the fine hair at your nape prickles with awareness, but you don’t look back at Ratchet. Pointedly ignoring him as Bumblebee warbles unhappily, picking up on the tension between you both. Oh, that’s right. You’re the only one tense, because he’s fine. He’s always fine. It’s almost a relief when Fowler stops by, rising from the kid’s couch and going to talk with him since he’s apparently the only other adult in the room. “Hey,” you say, and he glances up from fighting with his tie.

• Stiffening as you lean on the rail beside Fowler, he wishes he was closer. That he could hear your conversation as you smile at something the man says. That tension relaxing from your shoulders as you reach out to touch his arm with a smile. Just a harmless touch, but he hates it. Hates seeing you smile and laugh with the other human because it’s a pointed reminder that he’s not human and never will be. That eventually, you’ll find another human to spend your life with and stop spending it with him. That he can’t be what you need and the thought freezes him in place. Because when had he started thinking of you like that? As more than a friend? Because it’s true, he does want more than just your time. And it’s one more thing he can never admit to you.

• “Don’t look now, but doc looks like you kicked his puppy. What did you do?” Fowler murmurs and despite yourself, you look. And the way he’s staring at you, that forlorn expression is something you’ve never seen before. Gone so quickly when he realizes you’re looking at him and he turns and walks away. “I’ve got to go,” you say, touching Fowler’s arm and hurrying along the catwalk. What had that look been? He’s always so guarded, but whatever that was had been raw. Achingly so. “Doc!”

• Gritting his denta, part of him wants to bend and reach for you. Feel you in his servos. Instead he stops with his back to you. Because those impossible thoughts are still there, hurting him with things he knows aren’t meant for him. “What?” It comes out gruffer than he means and he hears your shoes scuff to a stop. Almost wants to drive you away right then, to make you so furious you leave and never return. Because the longer he has you beside him, the more it’s going to hurt when you go. And it already feels like his spark is rending apart.

• Staring up at his back, you’re half tempted to pick up the argument right where you’d left it. Would it be so bad to admit that he’s not ‘fine?’ That he needs help? He can’t and you know it. Neither one of you any good at just talking, always snapping at each other. Hurting each other. And you’re just so tired of it. No matter what you’d seen, he won’t own up to whatever’s wrong. Won’t let you help, because he thinks you can’t. “Never mind.” Turning, you start back the way you came. Because no matter what you say, it’ll end with both of you arguing and angry. Too much alike for either of you to bend and you don’t want to do it anymore. Tired of reaching out and only getting hurt.

• Servos curling under into fists, he knows it’s a good thing. That he should begin distancing himself before he gets anymore wrapped up in you. Because he needs the sound of your voice, needs those tired smiles, and the touch of those little hands on his arm. He’s seen you fall apart crying and he’s seen you work through the exhaustion and fear. Stronger than he ever would have guessed an organic could be. And he’s turning, mass shifting. Feeling the strain of becoming so much smaller, of burning energy he didn’t have to spare. But he can’t let you go, too selfish because he needs this. Needs you with him. Almost stumbling as he catches up and reaches to snag the back of your covering. And you turn and you’re so much closer like this, letting him notice details he never had before as he grabs your upper arm and pulls you to him. “I’m not okay.”

Previous

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[qyuubu]

more homicipher human au hcs for the other characters (the ones in the hospital w human! mr. crawling)

mr. silvair

he’s a research assistant at a very low-key, borderline abandoned hospital. he likes doing crazy experiments during his downtime, so he didn’t want to study at a top-class hospital with high demands.

he wears a lab coat and tinted safety goggles at all times, hiding and protecting his eyes.

he’s not a paranormal enthusiast like mr. scarletella, but he does keep up with the news. he’s personally very fascinated at the increase of dead bodies around the area. helps with his research.

he’d love to get a hold of a real monster one day. not for any noble reason like handing them over to authorities, but to experiment on them.

lo and behold, one of the patients in the hospital, mr. crawling, brings in someone who looks suspiciously like the serial killer wanted by the police at the moment. how exciting.

mr. chopped

a cheerful patient from the hospital. he’s paralyzed from the neck down due to a series of incidents. he’s only alive due to the results of mr. silvair’s unethical medical technology.

while he’s a little insecure about needing help from mr. silvair and other medical staff, he remains pretty positive about his situation.

since he can’t move much, he’s very particular with the things he can do to himself, like getting a haircut. it makes him feel a lot better.

enthusiastic about the mc’s arrival. if you help assist him, like feeding him or even combing his hair. he’ll be eternally grateful.

he especially enjoys it when he’s being wheeled around on his special wheelchair. he’s also pretty well versed around the area, so he can tell you where things are if mr. crawling isn’t already helping.

mr. stitch

he actually works at the hospital. but because that hospital literally has no standards, he gets away with doing stupid stuff like pranking the patients and sneaking in funny toys to kill his boredom.

he looks like a patient despite actually being a staff member bc he’s gotten several skin grafts through the years. what can i say? he’s a reckless guy.

he often bothers mr. crawling, but mr. stitch thinks they’re friends.

he’s actually quite lonely. a lot of his old friends in school shunned him because his pranks went too far. he just wants to make people laugh…

so when the monster!mc enjoys his pranks, he tries his best to come up with crazier ones to get her to laugh some more.

he thinks she’s really fun and believes he found a like-minded spirit in her.

but when he does pull the crazy bus prank on her, mr. crawling goes ballistic. mr. crawling wasn’t all that bothered by mr. stitch up until he decided to mess with the mc.

the incident leaves him with the need for another skin graft. this time, courtesy of mr. silvair.

other human au hcs for more context:

[dat-town]

like rain, we fell (in love)

Characters: idol!Jaehyun & female reader

Setting & genre: idol au with simpism and loserism, an attempt at comedy, very heavily inspired by Lovely Runner

Summary: Jaehyun met you on a rainy day before debut. Almost 5 years later he is an established name in the industry, the nation’s puppy boyfriend. When he meets you again, idol image be damned he won’t miss this chance.

Warnings: birth names are used, mentions of uncertainty, dieting, stress, exhaustion, sasaengs and similar things idol life can bring; idol life and dating culture is still taken a lot lighter than reality to spare the angst. there is one drunk man threatening the mc at one point but nothing physical happens. after the time skip, the boys are aged up because we’re fast forwarding to 2027 which also means there are a bunch of made up things about bnd’s future. even though i tried my best to research predebut things, this fic in no way tries to depict real lives. all characters are fictional and not actual representation of the boys.

Words: 9.7k

Author’s note: ever since i finished the drama i had the idea written down with an idol mentioning his first love on live just like how Ryu Sunjae did. initially it wasn’t for Jaehyun but then he dropped his Sonaki cover and he gives off the vibes, doesn’t he? when the MAC advertisement is mentioned, imagine something like this

@restlessmaknae at this point, i'm not even saying anything... just enjoy <3

3 MONTHS BEFORE DEBUT

It was raining on the day Myung Jaehyun met you.

It was a particularly exhausting day, the bad kind. Normally he didn’t mind the ache in his muscles, proof of their hard work nor being so damn tired after getting back to the dorms past midnight that he could barely remember to wash up before falling to bed. But there were these kinds of days when dragging themselves home from the practice room felt like something they were undeserving of, when doubts were too loud as their dance teacher’s words about still not being synchronized enough rang in their ears. He could tell it was affecting all of them.

The car ride back to the dorms was often quiet so late at night as they tried to catch every bit of sleep they could but it was often filled with snacking, watching videos and small talk too. It was rarely this tense, so thick that it lingered in the air. Jaehyun could tell that nobody could sleep this time even if Dongmin pretended to with his eyes closed, hoodie up and headphones over his ears. Woonhak looked like he was one more scolding word away from tearing up and usually Jaehyun would have been the one who tried to lighten up the mode, who joked around, who poked and teased and babbled until the tension broke and they laughed. But that day, it was too much, he couldn’t think of anything to say, nothing that could have cheered them up so close to the final evaluation, so close to messing up their chance for debut.

When the car halted in front of their dorm building, everybody scurried out of the van with half-hearted goodbyes to the staff member who gave them the ride. Jaehyun was the last one to get out of the car, his sports bag felt heavy on his shoulder and his still damp fringe hung into his eyes. He felt uneasy going back to the dorm, knowing he wouldn’t sleep anyways, so his steps slowed down, unsure, even after the van left. It was Sungho after having patted the others’ back, wishing them good night, who had noticed him stalling.

“You good?” He asked quietly, dark spots under his eyes showing that he didn’t fare any better than any of them, yet he tried. Jaehyun wasn’t sure whether it had something to do with the responsibility he felt as the oldest or it was just his personality but he was really grateful to have him with them. He was even more grateful that the elder boy didn’t show any kind of grudge against him being voted as their future leader despite joining KOZ only at the end of last year. At times like this, Jaehyun doubted he could do a good job at leading a team. He wasn’t made to do so. He was loud and messy. They should have chosen Sungho with his easy smiles and orderliness, since they had already often relied on him.

“I will catch up with you soon,” Jaehyun promised before turning down the road. He wasn’t sure where he was headed but he knew he needed to clear his head.

Even though he only knew the other boys for a few months, he could easily imagine their different ways of coping. Donghyun and Sanghyeok talking in the darkness of their room, Sungho stress-cleaning their kitchen, Taesan already working on his next cool song about beating allegations of not being good enough while Woonhak forcing himself to go to sleep because poor kid had to go to school in less than 6 hours. And him? Out at night swinging at a playground because he wanted to scream but couldn’t. He felt worn out like he wasn’t made for this but at the same time he couldn’t imagine any other life. Especially when after sacrificing his youth on the altar of training, after wasting years at YG watching all of his friends debut, he was finally so close. They were so close to turning their dream into reality.

Eventually he ended up at a 24/7 convenience store a few corners from their dorms. They had other ones closer, ones they were regulars at but he had already come so far, so it only made sense. He mumbled a greeting under his breath, his hoodie engulfing his figure, as he headed towards the snacks section. He momentarily faltered as he passed by the alcoholic drinks, the idea of getting drunk and forgetting about his problems a tad bit too tempting for a moment. But after he’d had way too much makgeolli during Christmas, he hadn't really been keen on revisiting that hungover. It was a stupid idea anyways, he had vocal practice in the morning and what about his pre-debut image?

He grabbed a bag of gummies, some overly sweet candies, chocolate bars and the kimchi flavored chips he had seen in the kitchen before and headed to the checkout area.

“Would you like a bag?” The cashier asked in an all too cheerful voice despite the time nearing 1AM and that there was a textbook open on the counter.

“Yes, please,” Jaehyun muttered, fishing out his worn wallet he had gotten from his father when he had moved out to chase his dreams.

Items were scanned then put into a black plastic bag, card swiped, receipt ignored, it was all monotonous and robotic and Jaehyun was too tired to actually pay attention to anything. He didn’t even notice the heavy rain that started up until he approached the store’s automatically opening door and the wind hit him. Oh, just his luck. As if he needed something to make his day worse.

Jaehyun sighed, bracing himself against the cold and getting soaking wet until he reached the dorm. He could only hope he wouldn’t get a sore throat by tomorrow morning. But before he could have stepped outside, he heard movement behind him and felt gentle taps on his shoulder.

“Here, take it,” you held out a transparent colored umbrella towards him when he turned around and Jaehyun blinked dumbfounded. You had still worn the store’s uniform just like you had done behind the cash register and your voice was just as melodious as before but now that he looked at you properly he couldn’t unsee it: the beauty in your smile and the kindness in your eyes.

It sounded too good to be true to not get rained on and save the poor excuse of treats he bought for the boys to cheer them up from getting wet but he wasn't sure he could accept it from a stranger just like that. Wouldn’t you get in trouble for that? How would you get home in this weather?

“But…”

“We have plenty more left behind. You can bring it back anytime,” you smiled at him brightly like the Sun in the gloomy dark weather that embraced the two of you. Jaehyun was mesmerized then by your sparkling eyes and soft smile. He was sure he stared at you a tad bit long before catching himself.

“Thank you,” he grinned sheepishly as he took the umbrella from you. Your lips curled further up as you stepped back.

“Take care,” you wished like an angel sent from above to make his shitty day better before turning around and going back to the register while humming a mainstream kpop song.

Later when Jaehyun was back in the dorm freshly showered and tucked in his bed, all he could think about was you instead of the self-doubt that had been eating him away. You were like a miracle.

It took Jaehyun an embarrassingly long time to figure out how to take the umbrella back. Not to mention, he was quite protective of the cheap piece, he even shrieked a tiny bit dramatically and made Woonhak swear he would take care of it when he saw the younger mindlessly grab it from by the door on a cloudy day.

Sure, he could have simply taken the umbrella back, given it to you and said thank you again but come on, that was too… anticlimactic. He needed a better excuse to keep talking to you, to hear that cheery voice and see your soft smile.

The perfect opportunity came when he heard Sungho complain about running out of dishwashing liquid and even though they didn’t even share the same dorm and they could have just asked the cleaning lady who visited weekly, Jaehyun took it upon himself to get some. He had no idea about dishwashing things after all. All of them were the same yellow liquid to him and he didn’t really care about degreasing agents or traits for sensitive hands, so it was something he could have asked you about and maybe casually slipping into a conversation about your lives? He had already drafted three lyrics about the different scenarios playing in his head and because he wasn’t the most subtle person ever, Dongmin obviously noticed.

“Do I wanna know?” He quirked an eyebrow knowingly before turning back to the studio's computer at Jaehyun’s sigh.

“It’s nothing,” the elder brushed it off because he might have been shameless and loud about most things, but he wanted to keep you just for himself for a while. So he let out another exaggerated sigh and pointed at the screen. “Let’s go over the track you showed me two days ago, I might have lyrics for it.”

Dongmin hummed and let it slide, but Jaehyun was sure that he couldn’t avoid the confrontation much longer. He hoped that the temporary ignorance meant that the younger knew that he would have never done anything to jeopardize their debut.

He was merely embarrassing himself apparently.

Because the next time he visited the convenience store on a clear sky night with zero chances of rain, he stood at the door of the store, umbrella in one hand, staring dumbfoundedly at the guy playing on his phone behind the counter. No sight of you or your pretty smiles. So he stood there, dumbfounded, gaping like one of Donghyun’s fish, wondering whether he mistook the day you had met but there was absolutely no way he could have, not with the amount of times he thought about it. It was exactly two weeks before, at the same time, at the exact same place. He couldn’t have mistaken it.

“Are you coming in or what?” The cashier looked up, bored and a bit annoyed at this late hour, so Jaehyun tried his best to appear nonchalant despite his heart breaking. He knew he was dramatic but he couldn’t help it, like he even dressed up nicely! And there was no smiley cashier greeting him? No you?

“Yeah,” he coughed, hurrying down one random aisle and spending too much time to find the dishwasher section to grab one bottle without looking at it too much.

The ‘take the umbrella back and talk with you’ mission was a failure but at least Sungho was happy about his surprise purchase, even complimenting him on the nice scent he chose as if Jaehyun would have ever bought cherry blossom ones on purpose.

Jaehyun thought he was doing a fair job of not moping but out of all people it had to be Woonhak who called him out on it. The maknae was surprisingly insightful for his age, unfortunately so.

“Hyung, if it’s still about the last donut I ate last week, we can get some later,” Woonhak nudged his arm while Jaehyun was busy zoning out, trying to come up with a less pathetic idea than camping outside of the convenience store just to bump into you.

“What?” He blinked at the younger, confused.

“You are sighing so much,” Woonhak furrowed his eyebrows, visibly worried. Probably because it wasn’t Jaehyun’s default behavior.

“Oh,” he cleared his throat but then forced himself to process the younger’s previous words. “Wait! Was it you? We are so gonna get those donuts now. You’re paying.”

Woonhak whined, pretending to be annoyed when he was pulled out of his seat, towards the door but he laughed anyway when his pout managed to convince Jaehyun not only to let him choose the flavors but to pay as the older as well. Pretending to be fine mission: success.

Another week passed and Jaehyun was high on energy this time because after his newfound inspiration and determination, all of their hard work seemed to finally pay off: it was officially confirmed that they would debut. At the end of May, their dreams would finally come true. A new life would begin.

If being a trainee getting ready for monthly evaluations was hard, preparing for a debut was twice as tiring. They had photoshoots, video shoots, concept meetings, stage name discussions, album recordings, dance practices with their songs. It was everything Jaehyun had ever wanted and more, it was overwhelming but in a good way, so in the midst of it all, he kind of forgot about the whole umbrella ordeal. He treasured the memory of meeting you and kept it as something to keep him going on bad days.

But of course, it had to be a day when he went out for an evening run (which he hated but Sungho and their choreographer nagged him about to build up stamina), so he was sweaty and panting when he ended up at the store again afraid of dying out of dehydration if he kept going without water. He jogged to the fridges in the back and grabbed the first cold bottle he saw before heading to the checkout area only to freeze a few steps away when he saw you behind the register. Your hair was up this time too, only a few locks falling into your eyes that sparkled like stars in the sky.

“Is everything okay?” you asked in that kind voice that he thought he would only hear in his dreams again and Jaehyun had to remind himself to act normal.

“Uhm, yeah, fine. More than fine actually,” he fumbled with his words and wanted to slap himself for it. Who the hell was more than fine when he was sweating bucks and could barely gulp with how dry his mouth was? He crossed that two meters between you and put the water bottle on the counter, watching you scan the item, more hair falling into your face as they slipped from behind your ears. Jaehyun’s fingers itched to fix it but that would have been creepy and rude as hell so he closed his fingers into fists next to his side.

“Sorry, I forgot to bring back the umbrella,” he muttered sheepishly and you looked back at him with a little confused frown on your forehead, then you chuckled. It was music for the boy’s ears, the prettiest symphony.

“Ah, it’s okay, there’s no rush,” you waved it off and asked if it was everything else before activating the card reader terminal. “You didn’t catch a cold, right?”

“No.”

“Good, then I’m glad I could help,” you smiled like it was normal, like you would have done it for everyone which was sweet but also made Jaehyun’s chest ache.

“I just wasn’t sure it would come off wrong if I gave it to somebody else. So I wanted to make sure it was you but you weren’t here last week when I came, so…” Jaehyun knew that he rumbled but he couldn’t stop. He hoped that you found him more cute than weird though because he wanted to keep your eyes on him a little longer.

“Ah, I switched with Daehyeong because he had an exam earlier that day. I work three night shifts and two afternoon ones usually,” you said, listing the days for each which engraved themselves into Jaehyun’s mind as he took the receipt and the bottle from you.

“I will make sure to bring it back one of these days,” he promised enthusiastically to which you smiled and showed him an okay sign formed from your hand so cute Jaehyun swore he almost melted right then and there. You weren’t even trying and it was cuter than Woonhak’s aegyo!

“Careful!” You called after him when he almost walked into the automatically opening door because he was too busy looking back on you. But then you both laughed, him nervously and embarrassed, you a little bit amused and endeared and suddenly, Jaehyun’s lung having a hard time breathing had nothing to do with running.

Sungho was the first person Jaehyun told about you. He thought about going to Sanghyeok or Donghyun for advice but the eldest was the one he could trust to keep his secret even among them and who had a girlfriend before, so he seemed like the most promising option. Not that Jaehyun was going to ask you out on a date! He knew that would have been stupid of him to do so, especially so close to debut but his thoughts kept gravitating back to you. He just wanted to talk to you and he had no experience with other chromosomes other than his own due to the all boys school he attended and the bunch of dudes he spent his teens with in small practice rooms. Company training lessons on how to charm fans didn’t count as experience, so he needed some advice on how to not embarrass himself in front of you or come off too strong. Who knew Sungho’s advice would be so useless?

“Just be yourself.”

“That’s the most cliché thing you could have told me,” Jaehyun deadpanned with a black look.

“Well, it’s a common advice for a reason,” Sungho crossed his arms in front of his chest which made the other boy sigh. Always so logical, he should have known not to come here. Too much T energy for his F to handle.

“Which part of not embarrassing myself did you not get?”

The older boy rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Jaehyun, you have an excited puppy energy, girls love that.”

Oh no, now Sungho’s voice was soft like when he talked to Woonhak when he got a bad grade on a test he actually studied for. It was time to make a joke out of it.

“Well, I will blame you if I pee myself in excitement when our hands touch,” he snorted before mulling over his own words. “Do you think it would be weird as a lyrics?”

Sungho sighed, unimpressed, and didn’t even hesitate.

“Yes.”

Damn Park Sungho and his stupid advice, Jaehyun didn’t feel more prepared (if at all) when he decided to bring the umbrella back. However, it would have been awkward if he waited too long after your last encounter, so he decided to bite the bullet and just go. You recognized him right away and smiled at him widely. Jaehyun really didn’t understand how you could be so bright all the time when it was so late.

“Thanks,” you bobbed your head when he reached the umbrella over and your fingers brushed his when you took it, sending electricity down Jaehyun’s back.

“I should be the one thanking you,” he said, fidgeting with his fingers in front of himself.

“It really wasn’t anything special,” you tried to reassure him but it made the boy pout.

“Ah, so you would have done this for everybody,” he blurted out, sounding more disappointed than he would have admitted, his heart beating loud in his ears.

“Nah, just the cute ones,” you replied while you put the umbrella behind the counter and Jaehyun was sure he misheard you because what? There’s no way you called him cute.

“What?!” He echoed his thoughts and if he looked closer he would have seen your red ears.

“I said not everybody,” you lied after clearing your throat, avoiding his eyes. Gosh, when did it turn awkward? So the boy tried to salvage the situation.

“I’m Jaehyun by the way,” he spoke up as casually as he could manage and he probably did a good job because you didn’t look weirded out. Not until you introduced yourself and he blurted out that he knew. “I mean, it’s on your name tag,” he explained hastily with a relieved giggle when you laughed it off too.

And it somehow became a habit: Jaehyun came by once or twice a week, buying small things like snacks or drinks and he chatted with you. Nothing special, just a bit about your days (your university classes and his newest story about his roommates that made you smile), snack flavor preference (you liked veggie chips while he preferred barbeque flavor), the weather (you liked clear nights the best because the moon was so pretty) and music (he might have fanboyed a bit too hard when you said you were waiting for Jungkook’s next single to drop because same!). Not to mention that you listening to kpop meant you wouldn’t find his career path offputting, so Jaehyun became a bit more sure that he would tell you about it one of these days.

For a while he thought that his most awkward visit was that one time when Dongmin dragged him to the convenience store for a late night snack and he tried very hard not to make it obvious in front of his group mate that he was crushing on you but failed miserably because when he went to get chopsticks for themselves, you smiled at him and he almost tripped. He thought he managed to recover quickly enough for the other boy to not notice but the younger’s shiteating grin was enough to dash his hopes.

“So she’s your sudden muse, huh?” Dongmin raised a brow teasingly and Jaehyun hissed at him to shut up, an unexpected change in their usual dynamics.

However, his next visit topped the most awkward encounter ever. This time when he went back, there was only silence greeting him instead of your usual cheerfulness and it took the boy no longer than two seconds to realize that it was because you were soundlessly sleeping over the counter next to the cash register.

It certainly didn’t look like the most comfortable position for your back and Jaehyun was sure there was some kind of rule against being asleep on the clock but he couldn’t make himself wake you up. You looked so peaceful and so pretty. Your cheeks rounded as they were squished against the desk, pink lips in a pout, eyelashes fluttering slightly like butterfly wings. Jaehyun was mesmerized, writing a song about your sleeping beauty in his head already. 

Then the idyll was broken when the automatic door opened revealing a tired university student and you blinked your eyes open. You probably noticed him creepily staring, so Jaehyun panicked and grabbed the first thing from the display next to him that he could reach and dropped in front of you without looking, trying to act cool while not making you feel bad for taking a nap.

You cleared your throat, straightened your back, looking at him sheepishly with big doe eyes and an apologetic smile which he reciprocated… only for it to drop when his gaze followed yours and settled on the item on the counter between the two of you.

A box of extra large condoms.

Jaehyun never wanted Earth to open up and shallow him more than in that moment, he might have as well just died of embarrassment, but before he could have snatched it back and fumble over his words to try to find a believable excuse how he could grab it instead of for example a pack of chewing gum, you had already scanned it with a forced smile as the professional you were.

The boy’s body acted on its own entity, detached from his currently cursed soul and he paid, leaving the shop with 10000 won shorter and condoms he wasn’t going to use. Like have you seen his chronically single ass? He couldn’t even hold a conversation with a girl he liked, not to mention getting laid. Jaehyun wanted to bang his head into a wall. He didn’t know how he was going to look you into the eyes after this.

To Donghyun’s credit, he at least tried not to laugh when Jaehyun caved and told the younger about his dilemma. If it was Sungho with his ijbolism he would have already been on the floor barely catching his breath. Especially because it was him being himself after his oh so great advice!

“You know you could be just honest. Maybe she will find it cute that you were too distracted by her beauty to check what you were getting,” Donghyun said with a little hum, his mouth curled up in a smile but his attention back on his fish.

“Nope. No way. It might make her uncomfortable,” Jaehyun shook his head, not risking it. He didn’t want to burden you with his feelings when he knew he wasn’t in the position to pursue them even if you gave him a chance.

“Then just tell her it was a prank gift if it comes up,” the younger shrugged and while it sounded like an actual reasonable idea, it still required Jaehyun to discuss the topic with you, so needless to say he concluded that the best thing he could do was to avoid you forever. It wasn’t ideal per se but nor was the timing and dramatic situations called for drastic measures (or something like that).

So he didn’t plan to go back to the convenience store ever but what was he supposed to do when during one of his night runs (he was now torturing himself without Sungho’s prompting too) he saw a quite drunk looking man enter the building? He had to make sure you were okay.

Still, he hoped that his gut feeling was wrong and that he was in for another embarrassing encounter instead of you being cornered by a stranger but when he stepped inside the store only to see you pulled away from the counter as much as you could while the drunkard swung a soju bottle in the air, he knew he made the right call.

“Hey, leave her alone!” Jaehyun raised his voice without thinking it through. He just wanted the dude to get away from you because he looked threatening enough but the moment the man’s attention turned to him, he internally panicked because heck, he had a music video shooting in two days, the makeup artist noonas would kill him if he got punched. Or worse, what if Dispatch finds out that he got into a fight before debut? He would ruin everything. Zico PD would be so disappointed. He was supposed to be the leader after all.

“Stay out of it, kid,” the man slurred and your big doe eyes were on him too, wary and partly  relieved. It gave Jaehyun the boost he needed.

“I saw you pocket drinks. I’m calling the police,” he found his voice again enough to bluff seeing the stuffed coat on the other but he was either right or the man was drunk enough not to care.

“Mind your own business,” he muttered but with big bravado he stumbled out of the store, bumping his shoulder into Jaehyun’s most likely on purpose.

“Gosh, thank you so much,” you let out a long breath and finally your tensed shoulders relaxed.

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked, worried because even though you seemed physically okay, it must have been scary. Like even he almost shat himself while trying to assert dominance with eye contact. If Dongmin ever heard about it, he would have surely suggested to him to bark next time with how keen he was on teasing him for his usual puppy-like behavior. But look at him now winning an alpha staredown! He was definitely a wolf!

“Yes, it’s just… he wanted cigarettes too and got angry when I asked him to pay for the drinks first,” you said, still a bit shaken up but much calmer now.

Jaehyun wished he could see your lovely smile again and suddenly his last visit’s embarrassing outcome was the least of his worries. He decided to stick around, so he bought cup noodles and prepared it in the store’s self-catering corner while stealing glances at you. It was a quiet late night like usual, so you didn’t have much to do behind the register but still he was quite taken aback (and his heart started beating like a drum) when you decided to leave your post and sit beside him on one of those plastic chairs.

You talked about sweet little nothings like the passing cherry blossom season, favorite movies, your annoying professors and as cliche as it is, time flew by. You only realized how much when the guy for the next shift arrived.  You excused yourself to get changed and grab your things while Jaehyun cleaned up the table where he had his late night meal. When you emerged from the staff room, saying goodbye to the other employee, you seemed a bit surprised to see the boy still there which made him scratch the back of his neck bashfully.

“I will walk you to the bus stop. He might be still out there,” he explained himself and could only hope it didn’t sound as lame as he thought so. It was clearly an excuse but you let him get away with it with an easy smile.

Jaehyun’s heart couldn’t catch a breath as you were walking side by side, arms brushing from time to time, chattering about the constellations above, asking for his zodiac, pointing out stars he could only see reflected in your eyes. He had never been so enamored by anybody and he wished to keep this feeling forever fluttering in his chest.

“Are you okay?” Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts which made him stumble upon his words.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he smiled, not wanting to worry you, swinging his intertwined finger behind him because he didn’t know what to do with them. He had to keep himself occupied otherwise he would have done something stupid like reaching out to hold your hand with the excuse of dark, late night.

Your bus came just on time and for once, Jaehyun would have liked for it to be late because he could have listened to you talk about the sagittarius constellation until dusk but he didn’t want to keep you up either and the reasonable part of his brain also knew that he would regret staying up so late.

“Thank you again for earlier. And for keeping me company. I had fun,” you smiled at him, waving him goodbye which he could only reciprocate, starstruck.

The debut date was on the corner and with that, all of them got even busier, not to mention, the six boys crammed in a small place were supposed to move dorms too. Jaehyun should have been happy and don’t get him wrong, he was! This was what he had been waiting for, why he spent years in smelly training rooms until his muscles ached. This was what he wanted but a part of him couldn’t move past the fact that moving meant that your workplace wouldn’t be in the vicinity anymore, so he told himself that it was now or never. He would tell you about his well-kept secret and hope for the best. For what exactly he wasn’t sure but still.

He went back to the convenience store at the usual time since he had known your schedule by heart by then and there was no way he would have forgotten. But when he walked inside the store with his signature smile, you were nowhere to be found. There was another girl with bright dyed hair behind the counter flipping a magazine.

“Sorry, did Y/N change her schedule?” Jaehyun found himself asking, this time knowing better than to succumb to moping without questioning first.

“Oh, she resigned, wants to focus on studying more,” the girl replied after popping out the chewing gum in her mouth. Then after a pause, she asked: “Are you Jaehyun?”

The boy was taken aback. Knowing that you had told your coworker about him turned his ears red as he nodded slowly.

“She said to give you this if you come around,” the  cashier said and handed over a familiar transparent umbrella with a pink post-it note saying ‘monsoon season is coming. take care :)’ and while it was sweet and maybe it was for the better this way with his debut on the corner, Jaehyun had no idea a heart could be broken so gently.

4.5 YEARS AFTER DEBUT

The crisp of cold pinched Jaehyun’s cheeks as he exited the black van immediately blinded by the flash of cameras. He bowed and smiled towards the fans, waving and posing until a hand on his back reminded him to move forward.

Inside the broadcasting station there was a different kind of chaos: staff members running around, makeup artists touching up his face, professional cameras set up around, his manager reminding him to promote the upcoming concert as if he could forget. They sold out the Olympic Stadium after all, Jaehyun was still giddy (and nervous and awestruck) about the fact.

He greeted the veteran host of the radio show with a practiced, professional smile. He had gotten used to solo schedules early thanks to his MCountdown MC days, so he didn’t find it as nerve wracking as others did. He still remembered seeing the ever so (seemingly) all cool and aloof Dongmin shake with nerves before he left for his first meeting as a producer. These days, with their group’s reputation secured after hits that won Song of the Year awards dusting on their company’s shelf, they had more of these solo jobs, each of them doing their own thing: Sungho trying out acting, Sanghyuk choreographing for rookies and helping trainees, Dongmin writing songs for names even bigger than theirs, Donghyun narrating a wildlife documentary series, Woonhak having his own show while Jaehyun was busy with variety shows. Just to list a few of the things they were doing between comebacks and group schedules. Fans and the general public loved them, Jaehyun for example was dubbed as the nation's puppy boyfriend after he was deemed very boyfriend material on a Running Man episode simply for being more considerate than competitive.

It was exactly how the radio show host introduced him as too right after the greeting segment of the morning radio broadcast.

“Jaehyun-ssi, it’s so nice to have you here,” the woman turned to him and the idol grinned, boyish charm still clear on his face.

“The pleasure’s all mine.”

“Oh, I heard you would be a sweet talker,” the lady chuckled and Jaehyun joined in, used to the Butter Myung allegations since his own members liked to call him out on it too. It had become a thing early on.

“Only for noona… and Onedoors,” he winked into the camera because it came easy and because the reactions were good. The host seemed to enjoy his presence as well or was just as professional at her job as he was. They talked a bit in general about the day’s topic a bit and Jaehyun answered a few viewer’s questions in-between played songs. He talked about preparing for the Stadium concert and an upcoming album as well as what he had been up to lately.

“So tell us about the OST you wrote for MBC’s new hit drama. It’s been charting high ever since its release, right?” The lady grabbed this chance to inquire about In every lifetime, it’s you.

Jaehyun wasn't the first one who had a solo OST deal (it was Sungho for one of the first dramas he acted in as a support character) but he was the first one who was involved in the production, even allowed to write the lyrics in the concept of first love. The idol’s fingers twitched in his lap with the urge to scratch the back of his neck as he thought back on the dozen songs he had written about you and then kept in a hidden folder on his computer because they all sounded too real, too close to what he felt. Pouring his feelings into an OST for a drama was different because there was less promotion period if any and it was less unlikely that his members called him out on his sappiness every time they had to perform it. So he talked about the production, how quick it went and how taken aback he was by the immensely positive response.

“Is it inspired by real events? Based on your own first love perhaps?” The host inquired, curious, and Jaehyun could already tell that it will be the most rewatched part of the show. They weren’t rookies anymore, they could talk about things like it, past crushes or even exes. Sure, some might get upset but most fans moved on quickly and such things couldn’t ruin their career anymore.

“You can say so, but my first love was just a one sided crush. She gave me an umbrella on a rainy day, that inspired the song. I still have it, although the second time I got it as a goodbye,” Jaehyun admitted with a nostalgic smile, hoping that it would be enough to satisfy the host’s curiosity. If not, he had the perfect comeback. “My second love for Onedoor remains strong to this day though and I hope it’s mutual.”

“Ah, Jaehyun-ssi, I’m sure it is,” the lady chuckled and added a few words about the drama itself before playing the OST itself. It started with the sound of rain and it made the boy smile because as the lyrics unfolded, the instrumental became livelier and happier too like a rainbow after a sudden storm. Just how your smile and kindness had turned his awful day not so bad.

A few more fan questions were answered, Jaehyun thanked them for their continuous support and mentioned seeing them at the upcoming concert. All went well and Jaehyun felt giddy as he exited the venue like always when he could interact with fans.

He had no idea that on the other side of the city you were listening to the radio show, fingers freezing over the keyboard.

Their schedules were usually tight but Jaehyun enjoyed the buzz of it all. Sure, he liked to laze around in bed but there was nothing like being booked and busy because it really showed just how far they had come. There were times when they were exhausted but after being in the industry for a while they learned how to recognize the signs of burnout or being overwhelmed and they were lucky enough to have Zico PD-nim on their side. Their hyung might have been serious about music but he prioritized their health over profit enough to stand by them against shareholders who were in it for the money and not the music. He also reminded them to just have fun… within reasonable limits. Being an idol wasn’t sunshine and rainbows, there was dieting, being followed by Dispatch and sasaengs breaking into their hotel rooms or mobbing them at the airport. But at those times Jaehyun reminded himself that he had his best friends with him and they were doing what they loved. What more could he ask for?

So Jaehyun didn’t complain even if he spent long hours at the studio yesterday night but had to wake up at the crack of dawn to make it to the filming studio for their new MAC lipstick ad. Four hours of individual and group shots but at least they only had one set of clothes this time, an elegant black and white suit and tie combo for all of them. Jaehyun teased Woonhak about looking like a real adult now as if he hadn’t seen a boy in a similar attire three weeks ago at an award ceremony. But their maknae was way too cute when he pouted, so he couldn’t miss this chance.

“We’re starting off with the group shots. Are all of you ready?” An employee from the filming crew came up to them and the group members nodded, following him to the set with black background.

Once they took their place and turned around, they bowed to the staff: cameramen, photographer, stylists who would touch their makeup up, concept director, marketing and PR people from MAC next to their manager. For a moment – a moment too long – Jaehyun’s gaze got stuck on a figure on her phone, hair up with claw clips, voice like happy little chimes at Christmas, a vaguely familiar sound that knocked the air out of his chest.

“Jaehyun?” Sungho hissed, nudging him in the side when the silence stretched too far and everybody looked at them expectedly. Jaehyun cleared his throat.

“Who’s there? Boynextdoor! Hello, we’re Boynextdoor, please take care of us,” he bowed again and the others followed his lead like always. No matter how much they (especially Dongmin) teased him, they always followed him with unconditional trust. Jaehyun loved them like brothers.

The leader was out of it now though, so he had to blink to regain focus. It wasn’t the first time he imagined seeing you again. He had imagined (and written out) a bunch of different scenarios how it would play out but nothing ever happened. Korea wasn’t a small country after all, hell even Seoul was too big to just stumble upon you. He needed to get it together.

The photoshoot started with the group shots and Jaehyun managed to collect himself enough to follow instructions and channel through his inner model that he developed over the years. The photographer seemed satisfied with their work as well because everything went smoothly and they didn’t have to do many retakes. Once it was done, the individual shots followed. They played rock, paper, scissors (the ultimate solution for everything) earlier to decide the order and since Sanghyuk won, he was the first one to go. This way, once he was gone he could have done anything he wanted – sleep, play, hold a live, whatever – until the others were on.

Jaehyun was the third, which wasn’t bad but wasn’t really good either. He didn’t have enough time for a nap but he had more time to kill than just to wait around, so he decided to get drinks from the food support trucks their fan clubs had sent for their schedule. He asked the others if they wanted anything before taking off. First, he took pictures with the trucks to upload to social media later then got an iced americano for himself and another for Woonhak as if the youngest didn’t have enough energy without the caffeine.

Going back to the building, he literally tripped when he saw you.

Again. And this time there was no mistaking, no questions about it. It wasn’t a hallucination. It was you right then and right there, in front of him, talking with another staff member animatedly. After all these years you still looked like you were in his returning daydreams: all kind smiles and refreshing aura. Except that this wasn’t a dream. You might have lost the baby fat in your cheeks and your hair might have gotten longer, your smile was still dimpled. Instead of the convenience store uniform you had worn over your casual jeans-tee combo back then, now you dressed business casual and it was funny, really, because he went from sweatpants and hoodies to suit and tie as well. At least for now.

It was Woonhak who pulled him out of his reverie, waving a hand in front of his face before taking his coffee. (Luckily years of dance practices gave Jaehyun a good enough balance to upright himself before spilling coffee all over the ground and himself.)

“Hyung, come on… be at least a bit more subtle,” the boy sighed, rolling his eyes as if saying he couldn’t believe that Jaehyun was older than him and still acted like this. However, the leader couldn’t care less about the fact that he was acting embarrassing or not. He tugged on Woonhak’s jacket while still staring at you.

“It’s her,” he whispered as if he wasn’t already terribly obvious while the younger one was casually sipping on his drink.

“Huh?”

“The umbrella girl,” Jaehyun clarified, which made the youngest’s eyes turn into big saucers before turning towards you.

More or less, the group knew about you and about Jaehyun’s hopeless crush. It was hard not to with how treasured that umbrella was that he always carried with himself as a lucky charm or how many songs he had written with you in his thoughts.

No wonder Woonhak started slapping him on the shoulder out of excitement but he did his best at not saying anything out loud which in itself was already a relief. Him shuffling towards the others to relay the news or Jaehyun tapping his feet out of nervousness before his turn not so much. The thought of you watching him work made him super aware of every tiny detail and he wanted it to be perfect. He wanted you to see him and remember and see how far he had come. But he never caught you watching in-between takes when he could look away from the camera. You were either on the phone or talking with somebody.

Little did he know that you looked whenever he looked away.

He couldn’t find you after the shooting was done. Actually the entire MAC staff seemed to leave early but it still felt unfair. Having seen you and you slipping through his fingers again drove Jaehyun crazy. Especially because the photos came out well. He looked good enough to impress. It was such a wasted chance.

Should he send flowers to your workplace? Would that be too much? Too random?

There he was back with his overthinking and moping.

However, the next day, his phone buzzed with a message from their manager saying that he can’t pick them up to take them to the studio because he has to swing by at the MAC headquarters for some promotional products and the idol immediately perked up because wait! That was your workplace!

“Guys, guys, guys!” He shrieked, jumping up on his feet, startling Sanghyuk who was dozing off next to him on the couch. “I think I just got a sign from the universe telling me to go for it.”

With their individual activities and single rooms in their newest dorm, it was a rare occurrence that all of them were together but most of them still hung out in shared spaces like the living room when they had nothing to do. That was how Jaehyun got Sanghyuk and Dongmin there to witness his reaction and he pushed his phone into their faces. Luckily the guys looked interested enough in his sudden love life to listen to his ramble whether it had been weird if he went too and what he should have done if you weren’t there despite all his efforts. Oh gosh, maybe he shouldn’t go after all, because what if you were there? He could make a fool of himself.

“Jeez, hyung, and regret it for years again? You are not a trainee anymore with an uncertain future. You are one of the biggest names of our generation,” Dongmin huffed, then after a short pause and a bite of his snack, he added: “By the way I will deny it if anyone asks if I said that.”

It didn’t tamper Jaehyun’s hyped up mood though because that was true, things were really different from what they had been like five years ago.

“Thanks, Dongmin-ah, you are right,” he nodded to himself with his eyes lit up. He scrambled to get up from the couch quickly. He needed to decide on his outfit! He couldn’t go to MAC looking the same way (comfort over fashion) as he planned to lock himself into his studio.

“I’m always right,” Dongmin mumbled under his nose just as Jaehyun disappeared into his room after he shot a casual enough ‘can i tag along?’ message to their manager. Even if the man was surprised about his sudden interest in marketing procedures, he didn’t protest, just told him the time to be ready by if he wanted to come along.

Once they arrived at the office building and their manager was busy with paperwork and the gift bags, Jaehyun tried to hold himself back but even he was aware that he was perching over cubicle walls like an eager puppy waiting for its owner to take him out on a walk. He heard whispers following him, some employees asking another if it was The Myung Jaehyun or they were just seeing things. Jaehyun smiled at them with his most charming smile instead of confirming with words.

Was it considered stalking? He was just at your workplace and it wasn't without reason, so it wouldn’t have been a lie either if you asked about it. Jeez, why was he so nervous? He had performed in front of thousands and was used to live TV appearances. Worst case scenario you didn’t remember him and he only embarrassed himself in front of you which wouldn’t have been the first time nor the second. He could do it!

Jaehyun was in the middle of giving himself a pep talk when he saw a woman he had seen you talk to at the shooting and he did his best to subtly follow her to the print room.

“Excuse me…”

“Oh, Jaehyun-ssi, what are you doing here?” The woman blinked in surprise when she recognized him and the idol had no choice but to use his smoldering smile that often managed to get people to do exactly how he wanted. As casually as he could to not get follow-up questions, he asked if you were still in the office at which the lady furrowed her brows, asking back to confirm that she heard your name correctly.

“She just left actually. I saw her by the elevators a minute ago. You might catch up to her if it’s really urgent or I can try to help if–”

“Thank you, you’ve been a great help already!” Jaehyun cut her off as politely as he could with a bow before bolting towards the elevators in a totally idol-like sprint. Maybe he should have participated in the running category for the next ISAC.

It was déjà vu really, but only when the automatic doors of the office building opened did he notice that it had started snowing while he was inside. The scenery was breathtaking with petal-like snowflakes dressing the night cityscape whiter. Or was breathing difficult because of his heart beating too fast in his chest? He couldn't have missed you again, right?

Frantic, he looked around in the square in front of the building, looking for your figure while snow was slowly accessorizing his dark hair in big, fluffy flakes and the cold bit into his cheeks. He slid his reddened hands into his pockets because he forgot his gloves, not expecting snow that day.

“Do you still not bring an umbrella with you?” A familiar yet new, sweet voice asked him, amused and Jaehyun blinked the snow out of his eyes to focus on you.

Your cheeks were flushed from the cold, the bottom of your face hidden behind your fluffy scarf but he could tell from your eyes that you were smiling as you held an umbrella over both of you. 

So you remembered! Jaehyun could barely contain his relieved giggle.

“It’s been a while,” he noted instead, not wanting to miss the chance or seeming weird by just staring at you in awe. Gosh, you were so cute. How could you have gotten cuter with age?

“Yeah,” you nodded but didn’t elaborate and Jaehyun couldn’t leave it like that, he couldn’t let it turn awkward.

“Have you been well?” He asked and heck, it was so cliché, so much like small talk between strangers, but he was actually interested in what you had been up to all these years. You didn’t seem to mind, not with the corner of your mouth curling into one of the smiles he loved on you.

It turned out that you managed to graduate with flying colors and eventually get a job as a marketing assistant at MAC which you liked after some not too good experience in the beauty industry. He was happy for you because you deserved only the best. He was also selfish and he wanted more time with you, more privately, so he wouldn’t have those regrets Dongmin mentioned burdening him for not even trying.

“Do you want to, I don’t know, get a coffee? Tea? Dinner?” He found himself asking hastily and gosh, he was a stuttering mess. So much about his cool idol image. Not that you hadn’t seen him at worse but still, it was a new chance to impress you and he was failing terribly.

And maybe he messed up everything because you went awfully quiet at his question, your hand gripping tighter on the umbrella’s handle as you cast your eyes down. Jaehyun prepared himself for rejection even before the words left your mouth.

“I don’t think that’s a wise idea,” you mumbled and he gulped.

Of course it wasn’t.

“Right,” he nodded, a forced, polite smile tight on his lips even though he could practically feel his heart shattering into small pieces all over again.

He knew dating an idol wasn’t ideal, it could be daunting or heck, you might have a boyfriend already. Maybe meeting him made you uncomfortable because you didn’t keep the memories so fondly of him as he did about you.

“But it was nice seeing you again,” you added a bit belatedly and apologetically, turning to leave, to leave him stranded alone in the snowfall. At least it would make another beautiful, tragic love song, Jaehyun thought with his cold lips wobbling.

He let out a quiet sigh or so he thought but you must have heard him because then you stopped on your tracks, stilling, becoming a part of the picturesque view for a long moment before looking back, calling his name.

“Jaehyun… That song about the rain,” you started, quiet and unsure, and the singer could feel his heart’s loud thuds echo in his ears. He held his breath back, waiting for another stab in the heart. “It wasn’t a one sided crush.”

Jaehyun stopped breathing altogether. What?

He must have misheard you, there was no way you said that. It should have been the part where you told him not to write about you because it made you feel uncomfortable.

“You mean you did… That you… You too?” Jaehyun tripped all over his words. Really, for somebody who had songwriting credits on the majority of their award winning hits, it was a new low. He couldn’t even pierce together a sentence.

You closed your eyes for a bit as if to brace yourself before looking him in the eye again and Jaehyun felt the world resume spinning when you nodded. Yet, it only made him even more confused.

“Then… why?” He blurted out and you looked so confused at his question, he had to clarify. “Why isn’t it a good idea?”

A coffee, a tea, a dinner… A date or however you wanted to call it. At his straightforward question though, you looked more flustered than ever.

“I… I don’t know. Shouldn’t you know better? Don’t you have a dating ban or something?” You asked, blinking rapidly, cheeks redder than before and Jaehyun would have liked to think that it was because you blushed and not because of the cold. Especially because it was you who brought up dating!

“Oh, that. No, we don’t have a dating ban,” he cleared his throat, trying to play it off cool but a quiet chuckle still slipped past his lips.

One of the advantages of having an idol as your boss was that he knew exactly what it was like to be in their shoes. Zico himself told them that even with the ban they had found ways to make it work in secret, the risk of getting caught twice as big, so he didn’t want to impose such rules on them. He didn’t encourage it, telling them how unwise it was but still, the company couldn't have done much about it. But they all knew the risk and they were as busy as it got, not really having time for relationships anyway, so Jaehyun didn’t have to worry about it before. Not until you came back into his life.

“So? What do you say about that dinner?” He asked again, hopeful, practically feeling the awkwardness melt around you when you let out a chuckle as melodic as he remembered.

“I could eat,” you admitted and Jaehyun beamed at you, his eyes turning into crescents.

It would have been a perfect moment, a dream coming true, framed by snowflakes gliding in the air… except that his phone started buzzing with a call in his pocket at that moment and the singer swore under his breath when he saw his manager’s contact information on the screen. His disappearance surely got discovered.

“Hey, hyung, something came up, so I left early, but don’t worry, everything’s okay. More than okay actually,” he quickly took the call and ended it immediately, not giving the man a chance to ask questions but hopefully not giving him a heart attack either. Then he turned to you with a wide smile. “Let’s go.”

You chuckled as the two of you synced your steps, walking into a random direction without any concrete destination plans. You even let him take the umbrella from your hand and hold it above your duo himself, your smile shy but genuine when your fingers brushed.

Jaehyun knew that this evening would make an even better love song than the last one.

[sethsclearwater]

synopsis: reader realizes she has an affinity for being dominated and goes to embry for help exploring her newfound desires

warnings: smut, talks of kink, dom!embry, sub!reader

word count: 4.81k

…

by the time you’d hit your third breakup in less than a year with guys who were shockingly inept at satisfying you in bed, you’d decided to hit the books and do some research on how exactly to define what you were looking for. it didn’t take long to discover you were looking for a pretty established (and, in your opinion, mildly taboo) dom/sub relationship but your research left you with little information on how exactly to find someone who would be able to feed your desires. 

it was around then that embry had come to mind. the two of you had become friends shortly after you’d moved to forks and you’d vaguely remembered him bringing up the topic around your mutual friends a few times. for reasons unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t in any type of long term relationship and you could only recall a few times here and there where he’d mentioned one off things with some other girls. 

you weren’t ugly by any means and embry had let you know just how attractive he’d found you on more than one occasion so, after mulling it over in your head for a few days, you’d decided to just be upfront with him and ask him to introduce you to the world of bdsm. 

to your surprise, embry’s expression remained the same when he heard your request, his posture remaining relaxed as he leaned back into the kitchen chair in his apartment. the only indication he was even remotely affected by your proposition was the subtle tensing of his hand around the glass of water he couldn’t seem to let go of, “you want me,” he emphasized before continuing, “to be your dom?” he asked, brown eyes watching you carefully as you blushed, suddenly feeling much more insecure about your proposition as you saw the way he was looking at you. 

he didn’t seem too interested in letting you break your gaze from his, following your’s as you subconsciously shrunk back into yourself, your arms wrapping around your waist, “i think so,” you murmured, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you anxiously waited for his response to your proposition. 

embry didn’t let you fear for long, quickly responding, “i can do that.”

your gaze lifted up, your entire demeanor relaxing when you processed the shock of him actually agreeing to your idea, “come here,” his voice softened as he straightened up, pulling out the chair next to him so you could sit down and be slower to him. 

when you hesitated, embry took your hand into his, gently squeezing it before he was tugging you over to sit down next to him, “so can you tell me what you think you’re looking for? i think we should make sure we’re on the same page before jumping into this, yea?” he suggested as you sat down, continuing to hold your hand in his. 

you quickly nodded, still feeling a bit flustered over the whole idea of verbalizing exactly what you were looking for but you knew the importance of the initial communication and appreciated him leading the way for the conversation, “of course,” you whispered, pausing as you thought about how to explain this to him. 

embry gave your hand another squeeze, allowing you another moment to think about it before he decided to jump in and save you, “how about i tell you what i can do and you tell me if that’s the same or different from what you’re looking for, okay?” he asked and the exhale of relief that you let out after let him know all he needed to know before you even vocalized your response. 

“that sounds helpful,” you responded, voice still meek but you held his gaze as he offered you a reassuring smile. despite your nervousness, he seemed quite comfortable with the whole thing which was currently the only thing keeping you from backing out of it and locking yourself away forever in humiliation.

embry smiled, “so i’m imagining that you’re looking for someone who can take control in the bedroom and make you feel good while they’re doing it, yea?” he asked, waiting for you to give him a small nod before he continued, “i need someone who can trust me - completely. i’ll probably want to try some things with you that you haven’t done before and i’ll expect you to try it. obviously i’ll walk you through it and you’ll have your safe words but i don’t plan on pushing you far enough that you’ll need to use them, okay?” you gulped, slowly nodding as you took in his words. despite your nervousness around everything he was saying, some deep part of your brain was screaming at you to take advantage of the once in a lifetime opportunity in front of you. 

embry seemed pleased with your nod, turning to face you better so he could slide his free hand over your upper thigh, gently squeezing to show his approval, “you’ll be mine - in and out of the bedroom. i don’t plan on doing this just when i’m fucking you. you’re mine, okay?” his gaze didn’t waver as he waited for your response. he wasn’t entirely sure whether or not he could provide you what you were looking for but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. 

you sucked in a deep breath as you thought about his proposition, taking a moment to mull it over in your head before you slowly nodded, “i think that’s what i want,” your voice came out as a whisper as you responded to him and embry smiled, beyond pleased that you were interested in this and that you came to him first. 

“good. now can you tell me what you want your safe word to be? it can be whatever you want but you should make it something you can easily remember, okay? i don’t think you’ll need to use it but i want you to have one in case you ever need it.” he explained, his demeanor lightening up a bit as he processed that you two were definitely (finally) going to be doing this. 

your shoulders dropped as you also relaxed, leaning back into the chair as you thought for a moment, “can it just be red or something like that?” you asked, cheeks remaining a flaming pink as you also realized what you were going to be doing with him shortly. 

embry hummed and nodded, “that’s perfect,” he reassured, giving your thigh another squeeze, “do you know what you need from your apartment?” he asked and you frowned, eyebrows creasing together in confusion as you worked to figure out what exactly he was getting at.

“you’re spending the night, pretty thing,” he explained, letting out a breathy laugh when your gaze fell to the floor as your cheeks somehow managed to turn an even deeper shade of pink as you realized he fully planned on jumping right into things and at his use of a new pet name for you, “i’ll drive you back so we can get what you need, yea?” he suggested, laughing again when you nodded and peeked up at him.

embry was quick to stand up, helping you up as well before he was escorting you over to the doorway so you could get your shoes on and make the short drive back over to your apartment. you weren’t entirely sure about how he managed to do it, but he somehow got you two to continue a light-hearted conversation the whole way to your apartment and back to his - helping melt away your anxiety about what was to come. by the time you two had packed a bag for you and gotten back to his place, you felt much more comfortable about the whole thing and even started to feel excited about it. 

a comfortable silence settled over the two of you as you kicked your shoes off and headed back into the kitchen while embry dropped your bag off in the living room, “we don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to,” embry started as he came back into the kitchen, stepping over to where you were standing, leaned against the kitchen counter.

you nodded, “i think i want to,” you said, voice soft as he leaned against the counter opposite of you, a smile on his face as he watched you.

“why don’t we take a shower then, yea? promise i don’t bite,” he teased, laughing when he heard your quiet giggle at his comment. you rolled your eyes, a small smile on your face as he took your hand into his and led you over to the bathroom.

although you’d been over to his place plenty of times, this time was clearly different as it sank in that you’d be intimate with him. before your nerves could get the better of you, embry was turning the shower on and stepping back over to you so he could help you get undressed. 

his hands settled at your hips, fingers dancing under your shirt along your waist, “you let me know if i’m going too fast,” he murmured, waiting for you to nod before he was sliding his hands up your sides to get your shirt off. 

you sucked in a breath when he tossed the shirt to the side, watching as his slowly gaze trailed down your chest, “embry,” you murmured as his hands slid down to your jeans.

“let me take care of you,” despite the plea, his voice remained soft. you nodded, another soft sigh leaving your lips as he undid the button on your jeans, taking his time tugging them down your legs as he slowly sank down to his knees in front of you.

he helped you step out of your jeans, not appearing to be in any kind of rush as the steam from the shower began to cloud the bathroom, “so beautiful,” he murmured, sliding his hands back up your legs so his fingers could toy with the thin band of your panties.

before he took them down, he pressed his lips to the fatty flesh of your hip, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the tops of your thighs and hips, “i can’t wait to be inside you,” he whispered and your knees nearly went weak, you quickly leaned further back into the counter, almost entirely relying on your hands to support you as embry slowly tugged your panties down, exposing yourself to him for the first time. 

“such a good girl,” he murmured, hands sliding back down your legs to help you step out of your panties so he could toss them to the growing pile of your clothes. his hands were hot against your thighs as he slid them back up, slowly standing up to his full height again. as he worked at getting your bra off, you were suddenly aware of just how big he was compared to you. 

easily towering over you, everything about him just seemed so much more intimidating as he tossed your bra to the side, “stop thinking so much, pretty thing,” embry gently reprimanded, his hands coming settle over your breasts, massaging the mounds for a moment as he brought your attention back to him.

at his voice, you were torn out of your thoughts and brought your gaze up to meet his, “get in the shower, i’ll be right behind you,” he said, slowly releasing his grip on your breasts so he could spin you around and you could head into the shower.

despite your initial shock at his self-restraint, you complied and stepped into the shower, the hot water immediately coating your figure and relaxing your muscles. some part of your brain had clearly expected him to just bend you over and rail you but for whatever reason, him taking his time with you seemed to make it that much hotter as you suddenly became much more aware of the growing ache between your thighs. 

embry’s hands were sliding over your figure, momentarily startling you as you were pulled out of your thoughts, “easy,” embry murmured, “just me,” he reassured, sliding one hand up to gently pull your hair over one shoulder.

his lips met the sensitive skin of your neck and you went lax in his arms, leaning back into him while he suckled at different spots across your neck and shoulder, “sensitive thing,” he teased, voice quiet as he continued peppering your neck with kisses. 

you melted into him, allowing him to support you when your attention was drawn to the bulge pressing into your lower back, “embry,” you whispered, peeking over your shoulder to look up at him, worry covering your features once again as you processed just how big he felt despite not even having seen him yet. 

embry chuckled, “relax, pretty thing,” he mused, “i promise i’d take care of you, didn’t i?” he asked, both hands gripping your hips so his thumbs could gently massage the tense muscles of your lower back to encourage you to enjoy yourself.

you hummed and nodded, remembering your earlier agreement, shoulders dropping as you rested your cheek against his chest, “that’s my girl,” he praised, pressing his lips to your wet hair, one hand sliding down to part the sensitive folds between your legs, “you’re doing great, pretty thing,” he added, his other arm coming up to wrap around your ribs to support you in preparation for what he was about to do.

a gasp left your lips when his thumb rolled over your clit, the sensation sending bolts of pleasure up your spine as you went weak in his arms. embry’s lips curled into a smile against your hair as he supported you, the combination of the warm water and embry’s gentle touches sending your brain haywire as you tried to focus.

while his thumb worked into a slow rhythm against your clit, his pointer finger dipped lower to circle the little entrance he fully intended on burying his cock in later on, “there she is,” embry mused, dipping his pointer finger into your heat so he could begin the process of stretching you out as he explored your body.

you let out a low moan at the intrusion, eyes fluttering closed as you allowed him to support most of your weight with his free arm. embry muffled his chuckle against your wet hair, gently curling his pointer inside your walls as he continued to work wonders with his thumb against your clit.

your brain was working overtime to process everything and, before you could even begin to gain a bit of control back, he was adding a second finger to your velvet walls to scissor you apart for him, “taking my fingers so well,” he praised, a low chuckle leaving his lips when he felt your pussy fluttering around him at the praise. 

“embry please-” you managed to squeak out, hands wrapping around his forearm currently supporting you as you desperately tried to find some way to control yourself.

he just hummed, continuing to rub slow, tight little circles against your clit, “please what?” he asked, the patience in his voice coming in stark contrast to your desperate one.

a quiet whine left your lips when he pressed down a little harder on your clit, your legs going weak again in the wet shower as he continued to hold you up. the pleasure coursing through your body had you quickly realizing he was most definitely going to make you cum for the first time with a man, “wanna cum, please-” you whimpered, eyes filling with tears as you peaked over your shoulder to look up at him only to be met with his soft brown eyes.

“you wanna cum on my fingers?” he repeated back despite the fact that he was already more than aware of what he was doing to you and what you wanted - no - needed from him. 

you quickly nodded, “yes - embry please-” you begged, not interested in finding out what punishments from him looked like if you came before he let you. 

he seemed to ponder your request for a moment, appearing to enjoy dragging out your pleasure and desperation as his fingers continued pleasuring your most sensitive areas, “go ahead and cum then, pretty thing,” he decided after a few moments, though for you it felt like an eternity as you battled off the tsunami building inside your belly.

as the words left his lips, he rolled your clit between his fingers and you almost instantaneously came undone on him. he caught you as you collapsed back into him, continuing to slowly thrust his finger in and out of your throbbing pussy as your first orgasm of the night washed over you. 

it was a near out-of-body experience, the kaleidoscope of colors that exploded when you came had you questioning everything you thought you knew was possible about sex and, more importantly, why the fuck you didn’t get with embry sooner. 

embry murmured quiet praises to you as you rode your high, removing his thumb from your clit when he felt you tensing up the tiniest bit from the overstimulation of the sensitive little nub, “deep breaths pretty thing,” embry encouraged, dropping his head to pepper your neck and shoulder with gentle kisses as you regained your footing and slowly came back to earth. 

the warmth of the shower combined with embry’s body heat helping ease you back down as he slowly withdrew his fingers from your canal. he slowly helped spin you around so you were bare chest to chest with him for the first time, allowing you to lazily wrap your arms around his waist while he held you close.

he reached behind you to turn off the water so the two of you could get dried off, “c’mere,” he murmured, “i got you,” he reassured with a breathy laugh when he saw how you looked up at him, totally unsure of how he expected you to walk to the bedroom. 

he reached down to lift you up, wrapping one arm around your back while the other went under the bend of your legs. “might be a little cold,” he warned before he was sitting you down on the counter so he could get towels to dry both of you off.

despite his warning, you still let out a gasp when your thighs met the marble, “told you it was cold,” embry laughed and you let out a breathy laugh, blushing.

he quickly dried himself off before he got a new towel to wrap you up in. when you went to take it from him, he quietly ‘tutted’ before he got to work drying you off himself, seeming to take a great amount of pleasure in taking his time drying each drop of water off your skin.

you were content with letting him work, still relishing in your post-orgasmic haze as he finished up, “alright, you okay to go to the bedroom?” he asked as he tossed the towel into the hamper before he was coming to rest his hands on either side of your thighs.

you hummed and nodded, content with pretty much whatever he had planned at this point now that you knew just how good he could make you feel, “you’re awfully pretty when you cum, you know that?” he mused, laughing when you sucked in a playful breath, cheeks flaring up again. 

he pressed a quick kiss to the tip of your nose before he was parting your thighs so he could lift you up again. totally wrapping yourself around him, you allowed him to carry you the short walk to the bedroom. while he laid you down on the bed and helped you get situated, he asked, “you’re on the pill still, right?”

you hummed and nodded, “do you know if you want me to wear a condom?” he asked, sitting down on the bed next to you so he could rummage through the bedside drawer for lube and a condom.

you thought about it for a moment before responding, “you don’t have anything do you?” you asked and embry laughed, shaking his head.

“promise i don’t have anything but i can still wear one if you want,” he reassured, eyes softening as he waited for your response, clearly fine either way you decided.

you hummed and nodded, happy with his response, “don’t gotta wear one,” you decided and he nodded, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips.

when he sat back up, he pumped some lube into his hand before coating his length with it and, for the first time, you got a good look at him. your initial assumptions in the shower were correct and he was definitely much larger than expected and, although you’d had your fair share of men in the past, you were confident you hadn’t been with anyone who came close to competing with his size.

embry’s gentle touch against your hip pulled you out of your thoughts, “everything okay down there?” he asked, a small smile on his face despite the clear concern laced in his tone. 

you quickly nodded, gaze flickering between his cock and his face, not totally sure how to explain what was running through your head. fortunately for you, embry followed your gaze, quickly picking up what you were doing, “trust, yea?” he asked, reminding you of your earlier agreement and you let out a heavy exhale, nodding.

despite the fact that he was still building his trust with you, he hadn’t led you astray yet so you relaxed back into the bed, allowing your thighs to part so he could get between them, “such a good girl,” he praised as he got up, coming over to settle between your spread thighs. 

“i’ll go easy on you,” embry promised, looking down at you and you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss. although he figured you’d be a bit more apprehensive based on your reaction to seeing the size of him, he was more than happy with how much faith you had in him to make you feel good and he quickly melted into the kiss. 

knotting one hand in your hair, he used his other to grab his cock and line it up with your entrance. a gasp left your lips and he caught it, not breaking the kiss as he slowly pushed his hips into yours so the two of you could become one.

as your walls split around his cock, he tightened his fingers in your hair and you whined, legs wrapping around his waist to better open up for him, “fuck you feel amazing,” embry groaned against your lips, doing his damnedest to take his time pushing into you despite everything in his body begging him not to.

despite your worry about accommodating him, you quickly discovered just how delicious it felt to have him effortlessly pressing into the deepest parts of you, “embry please-” you groaned, tightening your legs and arms around him to try and pull him closer to you.

embry didn’t seem to have much of an issue resisting your strength, “such a brat,” he grumbled with a breathy laugh when he saw the way your cheeks immediately flared up to a bright pink at the comment, “please what, pretty thing? gotta use your words if you want something from me,” he reminded, clearly enjoying easing into his new role as your dom.

you paused for a moment as your anxiety ran through your system, still a bit flustered over using such graphic terms with him, “please fuck me,” your voice came out as a whisper though, you were a bit surprised that you managed to get it out in the first place thanks to your embarrassment about the whole thing.

“such a good girl,” embry praised, “just gotta ask, yea?” he teased, a cheeky smile covering his features when he felt your walls fluttering around his cock. 

“jus’ gotta ask,” your quiet voice repeated back and his eyes crinkled at the corner from his smile.

“that’s my girl,” he mused, pushing his hips the rest of the way into yours so he could be completely buried in your femininity. you let out a loud moan at the intrusion, the complete and utter fullness that came with having him so deep inside you overwhelming you for a moment.

embry only gave you a moment to compose yourself before he was drawing his hips back and thrusting back into you, “oh my god-” you whimpered, knotting your fingers in his hair as you tugged him back down to smash your lips against his again.

his thrusts were long, steady, and rough, the bed rocking with each thrust of his hips into yours. as he worked you two into a rhythm, a slew of filthy praises fell from his lips

“such a tight little pussy,” 

“fuck your pussy feels like heaven,”

“can’t wait to cum inside that pretty little pussy,”

“this pussy is mine now, yea? not giving it to anyone else,” 

his free hand traveled down to your breasts, the stiff peaks that were your nipples finally getting some much-needed attention as he groped at the mounds, rolling your nipples between his fingers. 

“oh embry-” you whined, head dropping back against the sheets as he continued fucking you. even though you weren’t totally confident you were able to cum at all with a man, let alone twice in one night - you quickly felt the familiar coil in your belly tightening as your second orgasm began building up.

he knew before you did, the tightening of your walls around his cock signaling to him everything he needed to know, “you wanna cum on my cock, pretty thing?” he gritted out, maintaining the steady rhythm he set as he worked you towards your orgasm.

“please-” you gasped out, “wanna cum on your cock embry please-” you whimpered, blubbering out all he needed to hear as desperation took over your mind and body.

“cum on my cock then,” he groaned, barely containing his own composure as he struggled not to meet his own release before you met yours. 

he dropped his free hand from your breast to navigate between your legs where he was currently wreaking absolute havoc on you, finding your clit with little issue so he could roll the sensitive nub between his fingers and release the coil that was your orgasm.

you went liquid smooth in his arms as you came, stars dancing around your vision as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. the rapid throbbing of your walls around him had embry meeting his own release within a few seconds of yours. a loud moan left his lips as thrusts stuttered and he coated your swollen walls with his release.

both of you struggled to come back to your senses and as embry did, he loosened his grip on you so he could gently run his free hand up and down your side to coax you back down.

“you’ve got it, pretty thing,” he cooed, dropping his head to pepper your collarbone and neck with soft kisses until your grip loosened on him and you gently stroked your hands up and down his back. 

once he was confident you were back to earth enough for him to move, embry slowly pulled himself out of your now soaked channel, both of your breathing heavy as you worked to come back to your senses, “good?” embry asked breathlessly, both of you letting out laughs when you quickly nodded. 

“so good,” you reassured, “can we stay like this for a little bit?” you asked, voice quieting as you voiced your request to him - not totally sure if that was something he was comfortable with.

embry’s gaze softened when he heard the insecurity shining through your voice, “‘course we can,” he reassured, “c’mere,” he murmured, rolling out from inbetween your thighs so he could pull you close to his chest, “just let me know when you’re ready and i can clean you up, okay?” 

you hummed and nodded, nuzzling your nose against his collarbone as you got settled in his arms, “is it always like this?” you whispered, smiling when he squeezed you even closer to him for a moment.

“always like this,” embry smiled as he pressed his lips to your hair, “and we’ll ease into everything, yea? i’m just here to make you feel good,” he mused, both of you more than happy to know he would be the one who was in charge of maximizing your pleasure.