#but I’d take her back in a heartbeat

[hoeforcheol]

Talked with the ex today. I don’t think she knows how to handle this when I’m not being a psycho like I was last time. I’m proud of the way I’ve been able to behave tho. I’m still sad but I’m in a way better place than the last time this all happened. I just wish shit could be easier. But she said bye when she left so…progress?

[selfcarecap]

Cat & Dog [L.H.]

✧ Logan Howlett x kitty hybrid!reader

✧ summary: Logan rescues you, a kitty hybrid, on a mission and you become infatuated with him. (that’s all the plot you get, the rest is porn lol <3)

✧ warnings: smut 18+, unequal power dynamics bc Logan saves reader (and she’s a bit naive and inexperienced), kitty hybrid!reader (human with kitty ears, a tail, claws and kind of fangs and she purrs), reader’s first time, unprotected piv, oral sex, Logan teases reader a lot, slight daddy kink (like two mentions – still figuring out whether i like it for Logan), implied age gap, pet names (baby, bub, kid (not during sex), sweetheart, kitty — at first mockingly but then not), reader making biscuits on Logan w/ her claws lol, slight pain kink, Logan teaches reader about consent, uh i ignored that the reader’s probably gone through some trauma lool, Logan is indifferent to reader’s feelings for him at first but it changes, reader wears Logan’s hoodie; alternative summary that i thought was too cringe to use: Logan’s a nasty dog and you’re his pretty kitty. 

✧ word count: 5.2k

Logan Howlett is your saviour — the most handsome hero to ever exist.

He finds you on a mission, abandoned like the runt of the litter. The only reason he knows you’re still alive as he carefully approaches you, curled into a ball, is because his strengthened senses allow him to hear your dull heartbeat, and the matted tail at your lower back bristles when you hear him come closer.

“I’ll get you out of here, kid. You’re safe now,” he says, telling you his name and that he’s part of the X-Men. You turn slightly at the sound of one of his claws unsheathing, and watch him use it to pick the lock of the cage you’re being held in.

He opens the door and takes more steps backwards than necessary, “There you go.” 

You’d be able to dart straight past him and escape. You trust him. He smells different from the men that locked you in here, too. Sure, he smells a bit doggish, or like a wolf maybe, but he’s sweaty from fighting men to get to you so you’re not going to complain.

You slowly crawl through the cage door on all fours, feeling his eyes rake over your body. You don’t know why he’s staring – apart from your tail, and, sure, your ears, you have the body of a human – but you don’t mind it. You immediately feel warm in his presence. Everything is about to get better, all thanks to him.

He carries you in his arms when you’re too weak to even stand and you’ve never felt as peaceful and protected as when he holds you, and you cling to him with all the energy you have left. You can’t help but hiss when he puts you down in the seat next to him instead of in his lap to get you home.

-

It’s now been two weeks since you last saw Logan. He gave you his zip hoodie to keep you warm as soon as you got to the mansion and he didn’t leave your side until you were safely in the infirmary. You wish he never left.

They’re insisting on keeping you in here to heal, ignoring every time you ask for Logan. You feel healthy – they’ve even made your tail all pretty and fluffy again – so you take it upon yourself to find him.

You sneak out of the infirmary late at night, and all you have to do to find Logan is follow your senses.

Once you’ve located his room, you push the door open without any thought. He’s in bed but he’s still awake. The light on his nightstand casts a glow over the room and you smile when you finally see him again.

“What’re you doing here, kid?” he asks, sitting up slightly. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers, and you eye the muscles from his chest down to his abdomen, noticing the delicious layer of hair he has all over.

“Can’t sleep,” you take a step over the threshold, holding onto the door shyly.

Logan smiles, more to himself, “Was wondering when I’d see you again, bub.”

“Was waiting for you to come visit me,” you pout. You jut out your hip to one side, your tail curling upwards and peeking out behind your legs. You’re showing off. Last time he saw your tail, it was all tattered, but now it’s soft and bouncy again. You see Logan looking at it, smiling slightly, but he doesn’t compliment it like you hoped.

“We barely know each other. It’s nothing personal, kid. It was a standard mission. Anyone from our team could have got you first.” It stings that he doesn’t find your bond as special as you do, but you don’t mind if you have to do some convincing. He’s worth it.

“But we do know each other,” you close the door and make your way to his bed, “You saved me. I wouldn’t be alive without you. I just want to show you my appreciation.” You’re at the foot of his bed, crawling onto it on all fours. You’d never normally be this blunt but you can’t help yourself around him. Your need for him has taken over your entire being in the last two weeks. 

You watch him taking you in. Your movements are sensual and sleek – feline. You know he’s never been with someone like you, and you’re happy for him to take his time if he needs it. Perching on his bed, between his spread legs, you slowly unzip the hoodie of his that you’re still wearing.

His eyes follow the languid movement as you drag the zipper down, revealing your simple black top underneath. It clings to your skin in all the right places in the same way that your soft, tight, black shorts do.

“Looks good on you,” he nods towards the hoodie.

“Do you want me to keep it on?” You ask, but he shakes his head, smiling. 

“It’ll look better off.”

You unzip it fully, throwing it to the side of the bed. 

“Can I stay with you?” you lean over him. He’s about to open his mouth, and you have a feeling he’s going to tell you no.

“Please,” you cut him off.

“Alright, sweetheart,” he huffs, moving to give your ears a light scratch, “you can stay for a bit”. He’s intrigued enough to let you stay – you can hear it in his elevated heartbeat – and you don’t mind if curiosity is the only reason he’s keeping you with him for now. 

He paws at your fluffy ears, almost groping you, unsure how to treat you, but you haven’t been touched there in so long that it feels like heaven anyway.

“Who’s a good kitty?” he mocks as he gets the sweet spot behind your ear, but you don’t realise he’s teasing you, pushing your head further against his hand in bliss as you begin to purr. 

Logan isn’t sure how you’re making the noise, but it turns him on. He wants to hear more of it, “Well, don’t you sound pretty?” 

Your purring intensifies. You move down his body and settle over his legs, your head in his lap as his hand stays on your head. It’s then that Logan realises he’s already half-hard. The only reason he let you in was because he’s sexually intrigued by you, your cute demeanour and that fluffy tail somehow doing it for him. But he wasn’t planning on actually doing anything — not until now.

Your face is mere inches from his cock and he’s starting to ache to do something about it, getting harder. You’re still trying to find the most comfortable position as you rub your cheek across his lap like a little cat. You stop when you feel his erection.

“Are you hard?” you ask bluntly, eyes all wide. 

“I am, bub.”

“For me?” you purr quietly.

“All for you.” Logan tips his head to the side, waiting to see your reaction. He can tell that whatever you’re asking him next is taking you a bit more courage. He watches you gnaw on your lip all cutely.

“I’ve never seen a cock before…” you confess, and Logan stifles a laugh.

“Y’wanna?” He surprises himself when he says it. At first, he thought your affection was simply that of the saved towards her saviour, or familial maybe, but he’s not mad at this. 

Logan gets fully hard as you nod at him in such awe, your tail curling around his bare leg, and it’s even softer than it looks.

He pushes his boxers down just enough to pull out his cock, jerking himself off for just a few seconds to get some friction. You’re staring at it as you move your legs back, instinctively arching your back with your ass up. 

Your tail bobs behind you Logan can’t resist giving it a light tug, curling his finger around it. “Mmh,” you huff, pulling your tail away by instinct.

“Sorry, kitty,” he chuckles, “just wanted to feel it.” Your cheeks warm at his confession and you move your tail back in the direction of his hand so he can reach for it when he wants to. Your tail is your pride and you won’t let just anyone touch it – Logan’s the exception. He can gladly dominate you by tugging at your tail all day if he wants. 

He smiles as he touches your tail again, letting it glide through his fist from the bottom to the tip of your fur. “Such a pretty kitty,” he hums as he bites his lip. 

Hearing that he likes it pleases you more than you would’ve thought and you begin to purr again. You’re not exactly sure how to go down on a man, but you let your intuition guide you as you lower your face to press a wet kiss to the tip of Logan’s cock.

Suddenly, he’s pulling you back up by the scruff of your neck.

“Ah-ah. Manners, bub. You gotta ask first, you don’t know that?” Logan scolds.

His expression goes soft as you shake your head all sadly and apologetically, “‘S okay, kitty. I’ll teach you. Say please.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

You look at him as you get back up on all fours, leaning close to his face. You want to kiss him so bad but you gather you’re not allowed to do that without asking either. 

“Please can I kiss you, daddy?” you ask.

Logan is surprised, not unpleasantly, at the word, “Where’d you get that from?” 

You shrug, and even that movement is fluid and smooth. “Just wanted to call you that. ‘S that okay?” You slur, head already clouded with pleasure and Logan.

He nods and places his hand back on your neck, pulling you towards him as your face reaches his in a searing kiss. He’s hungry for you, devouring you with his mouth and tongue and teeth immediately. His hand glides down your spine and to the side of your ass, grabbing you there. 

You purr against his lips as his other hand squeezes the flesh at your waist, and the vibration feels so good to him. You lower yourself against him so you’re chest to chest, and your belly rubs against his cock as some of his precum spills between you two, rubbing up against your skin and dripping onto his own abs.

Logan gently pulls you off, “Be a good girl and suck daddy’s dick now, alright?” You nod so adorably it makes his heart clench – you’re so eager to please him, all wide-eyed as you get between his legs, your ass up in the air.

On your way down, you give tiny licks to his skin; your tongue is all over his chest hair and his happy trail. Your tongue glides through his pubic hair, ignoring his throbbing cock, and you make your way to his thighs. He watches you lick through the dark hair there, and he realises what you’re doing. 

You’re acting like a cat, taking care of him. You’re bonding with him, and grooming him. He lets you do it some more, but it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore how hard he is, leaking precum. He slides a hand down to his dick, jerking off right next to your face.

“Mhh,” you pout, pushing his hand away with your head and giving him a cross look.

He smirks, “you gonna start sucking at some point then, baby?” It’s not that he doesn’t like you playing around but he’s getting desperate. He places a hand on your face to make you look at him.

“I don’t know how to.” Your cheeks are hot under his touch. 

Logan smiles, “Start with kisses. Or lick, like you’ve been doing.”

You nod and curl your tail around his knee, your hands to the sides of his hips. You press a wet kiss to the underside of his cock and Logan sighs in pleasure; you immediately want to hear more of it. You press quick kisses all over him, remembering what he said about using your tongue.

You begin to lick all over his dick, his balls too, until you’re drooling over him. But he’s stopped making pretty sounds and you’re not sure what you’re doing wrong. You hear a quiet chuckle from above you.

“Come up here,” Logan says. You sit up and straddle his waist. He takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth.

“Like this,” he tells you, taking one of your fingers between his lips. He wets it with his spit, sucking it into his mouth, tongue moving over your fingertip. You grin – you like the look of it. You like the way his cheeks hollow as he sucks on your finger, wishing your hands were as big as his.

As you move to push another finger past his lips, Logan takes your wrist. “Uh-uh. Your turn, kitty.” 

You pout but then feel his hard cock against your ass, your tail brushing it, and you get excited. 

“And none of those sharp teeth,” Logan tells you as you move down his body again. You bare your smile to him, letting your fangs retract. They’re a special part of you and you’re glad you could finally show them off to someone who deserves to see. Logan awards your little show with a grin. 

“Good girl.” Those words make you put your mouth on him immediately, swallowing him down your throat as deeply as you can. You pull away when you almost gag, heat spreading over your face, but Logan is unbothered.

You settle between his legs as you press a few more open-mouthed kisses to his cock with spit-slicked lips. You take the tip in your mouth, staying for a bit as you suck on it, spit dripping down his length and over your lips.

You start purring when you take him a little deeper, and Logan’s breath catches in his throat when you do, the vibration turning him on even more.

“Keep doing that,” he mumbles absent-mindedly, eyes on you but mind evidently gone. You smile around his cock, moving your mouth up and down as the spit begins to make a crude sound against your lips, but you like it. You’re feeling more and more of an urge to touch yourself between your legs, but you want to make Logan feel good first.

Your purring gets louder as you take him even deeper, and Logan lets out a sharp gasp. You pull your mouth off him, wondering if you’ve hurt him, sliding your tongue over your teeth to make sure the sharp fangs aren’t out.

Following Logan’s eyes, you see what you’ve done. Your claws have come out, and you’ve been scratching his thighs open. You feel tears prick your eyes as you bend down to lick over the wounds apologetically, wondering in awe as they heal up immediately.

“Don’t worry, just surprised me. You won’t hurt me.”

“Sorry, ‘s just how I show that I like you. Don’t wanna let you go”, you hang your head low in shame despite his words.

“It’s okay, kitty,” he lightly scratches at your ear, making you purr and forget all about hurting him, “Do your worst.”

You’re not sure if he’s teasing you. “Know they’re not as big as yours.”

Logan huffs, taking a hand away from you, pressing his elbow into the bed and his claws come shooting out. You only saw one of them briefly, when he saved you. They’re majestic up close and in all their glory, glinting against the low light. 

You reach out, “Pretty.” Logan smiles at your sparkling eyes, but retracts his claws before you can touch them.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

You give him the meanest look you can muster for not letting you touch, sinking your own, much tinier, claws into his abs to hurt him. But Logan lets out a soft moan instead, and you marvel at the pleasure he takes in the pain, forgetting all about why you’re mad at him.

Your eyes light up when you realise he likes you scratching him open. It’s a dream come true – someone who likes the way you show affection. You bite your lip as you scratch over his abs, his hips, and his thighs, watching as the wounds close up just before you draw blood. You hook your tiny claws into the flesh of his thighs as you wrap your lips around his cock again.

Logan lets out a string of moans as you have your claws in him and your mouth on him. You begin to purr, and with the way his cock flexes in your mouth you know he’s close.

“Just a little more for me, can you do that, baby?” he gently nudges your head down some more, and with the praise coming from his lips you can definitely take him – you feel like you could do anything.

“Yeah, just like that.” Logan’s voice gets shaky as you take his cock deeper, spit running down to his balls as you take almost all of him in your warm, wet mouth. 

You swallow everything Logan gives you as he cums in your mouth, shooting strings of his warm load down your throat. You don’t stop until he’s gently pulling you off him, and you look up at him.

“Again,” you plead, eyes wide, taking in how his cock is still hard.

Logan chuckles, “Don’t get used to the idea of that. Most men can’t go more than once.” 

You look at him strangely – what do other men matter to you? Before you can ask, Logan manhandles you into a different position, and you don’t notice until then that you’ve been grinding your clothed pussy against his knee, and you whine at the loss of contact.

You’re on your knees as Logan gets up to fully remove his boxers, and you see the skin at his knee glistening from where you’ve soaked it. The sight makes your cheeks heat up but also makes you press your thighs together.

He’s standing in front of you like a god, and you put a hand on his thigh to suck his cock again. Before your mouth can reach him, he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Your turn now, kitty.”

“Oh,” you say as he lies you on your back.

“Gonna play with you now. Can I take this off?” he’s holding the bottom of your top, and you nod as he pulls it off you. Logan gets on the bed again, taking in the sight of you half-naked. You’ve never felt so good about yourself. He looks as if he’s seen God herself.

“Look at you, kitty, so fucking pretty,” he whispers more to himself, touching and kissing you there as his knees sink into the mattress. You arch your back when he wraps his lips around your nipple, and the action makes your pussy rub up against him. He looks down between your thighs, pushing his mouth there.

You’re not wearing any underwear, so his face against your thin shorts makes you squirm. “Smell so good,” he breathes, rubbing his nose up against your clit. It makes you moan.

He begins to pull down your pants, stopping as they catch on your tail. The nurses cut a hole into the back of the material for it, and your cheeks glow when Logan carefully pulls your sensitive tail out of the way before he slides your shorts all the way down your legs, spreading them to get a look of you afterwards.

“Look at you, kitty. Prettiest kitty I’ve ever seen,” you miss his joke, placing your feet on Logan’s broad shoulders, as he says “Can I?”

You’re appalled that he even has to ask, pushing his head down between your legs. 

He begins to eat you like a man starved, moaning against your skin at the taste of your wet pussy. He doesn’t even tease you, licking through all your wetness, licking over your clit in circles.

Logan pushes two fingers in without any preparation, but you still feel too empty, grinding your hips against him. 

“I got you,” he promises, lapping up all of you, “Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He grabs one of your thighs, holding it so that you don’t squeeze his ears any more. Your knees are still pressing against his temples, but he doesn’t mind them there. He can feel you tremble when he licks and sucks and when he curls his fingers.

Logan has you cumming on his tongue quickly, sucking on your clit until you’re seeing stars, whining for him to stop. He pulls his lips off you, sitting up to push his fingers into your mouth.

“You taste good, huh?” he smirks as you suck your own arousal off him, humming around his fingers in agreement. He slowly fucks his fingers into you again, bringing them up to his own lips. He moves his hand between your legs again, fingers going over the hair above your pussy.

“You’re so soft here, kitty,” he says, leaning down to nuzzle his cheek against your pubic hair, making you giggle.

You’re still wet, and he’s still hard, and you don’t want to be too direct but you want to know when he’s finally going to fuck you. You tell him “I’ve never done this before either,” hoping he’ll catch what you’re getting at.

He places a kiss above your pussy, into the soft hair, smirking up at you and kneeling between your spread thighs, “I know. I’ll go slow.”

“Don’t want you to go slow,” you mumble, watching his eyes darken a bit.

“Don’t say that to me. Y’don’t know what you’re saying.” 

You don’t reply, smiling to yourself. He is big – very big – you remind yourself, but you still want him to be rough with you if that’s what he needs. You want him to use you. But maybe you should wait before you tell him that.

Logan wraps a hand around his cock, fucking his fist for a few moments before he leans down to rub the tip against your clit. You mewl at the sensation, ready for more.

“You sure?” he asks, head already beginning to push in.

“Yeah,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. Logan pushes himself halfway in, both of you moaning with pleasure. The stretch already stings, but you tell him you want more.

“So fucking tight for me, baby,” he grunts as he fucks into you deeper, bottoming out with an almost pathetic groan that makes you smile through the slight pain.

“You’re so big,” you moan, leaning your head back against his pillow.

“I know. Think you can take me?” he kisses up the side of your neck, hand sneaking between your bodies to play with your clit.

“Yes–yeah. I want you.”

“That’s a good kitty,” he whispers from above you, beginning to thrust into you slowly, rocking your whole body with his movement. He feels so big in your pussy, but you like the feeling of being stretched out for him. Even if it hurts, you want him to take what he needs.

It helps when your claws come out, scratching at his back to relieve some of the pain.

“Hurt me, baby. Hurt me as much as you need,” he moans into your ear, fucking into you at a bit of a rougher pace. You sink your claws into him, feeling how you draw tiny drops of blood from his big muscles, dragging your fingertips down his shoulders and over his big arms.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan moans against your mouth, kissing you sloppily, thrusts becoming messy, and you grunt in a mix of pain and pleasure that feels so good. He looks down at you, hips getting slower as he takes your tail in his hand.

“Does your tail hurt like this?” he asks, tugging at it lightly. You’re lying on your tail, technically, but it doesn’t hurt. You shake your head. Still, Logan tips your hips to the side a bit, lifting your thigh to fuck you sideways. But this way you can’t reach his back, and you don’t like not being able to squeeze around him with your thighs.

“Wanna sit on top,” you say, and he pulls away to look at you, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“You can’t take me like that yet, bub. Trust me.”

“M-mh,” you mumble, and with a bite to his lip Logan lifts his hands in defeat, slipping out of you and obeying you. He flips you around so that he’s on his back and you straddle him.

His dick looks bigger when you hold it in your hand, raising yourself to your knees to line him up with your pussy. Logan chuckles and you smile too, but you want to show him that you can take him.

You struggle to even get the angle right because you have to sit up so high, but when you’ve got the tip in your pussy, you just slowly lower yourself, hands leaning on Logan’s chest.

“Go slow, baby,” Logan says, suddenly gentle, seeing the pain on your features as he goes deeper. His fingers draw circles on your hips and on your ass, and he almost cums from the way you moan when he won’t fit in all the way in this position. He reaches out to rub at your fluffy ears, loving the way you lean into his touch, purring again.

“Sounds so pretty when you do that.” He’s less and less sure about the thing he said earlier, telling you not to get used to him, about you fucking other men. He’s not sure it’ll be relevant after all. He’s going to keep you all to himself.

“Hurts so bad,” you moan, pussy straining around him.

“Then stop. Y’don’t have to,” Logan coos, pulling you up by your hips but you take his hands off you.

“Don’t wanna stop. Wanna cum.” You grind your hips against Logan’s, his cock pulsing inside you. It drives him fucking crazy seeing you struggling to take him, fucking yourself stupid in his lap nevertheless.

He rubs his thumb over your clit, in circles to match the movement of your hips on him.

“Lo–Logan,” you moan, hands back on his chest as you start to fuck him again, your claws coming out against his chest to scratch him there, and he revels in it.

“Yeah, that’s it, kitty. Don’t stop,” he keeps playing with your clit, starting to become breathless himself as your pussy squeezes around his cock.

You cum with a whimper so animalistic it sets off his own orgasm, pulsing his cum into your pussy that clenches around him hard. Logan’s hand on your hip helps you grind on him as the pleasure spreads through your body and he’s grabbing at your flesh.

You come down from your highs together, a fucked out smile on your lips as you bend down to kiss Logan. He pulls you off his cock, not wanting you to hurt any more, but from the way you kiss him back lazily, hurt is the last thing you are.

“Did such a good job for me,” Logan tells you, holding onto your face, “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”

You shake your head, “Didn’t mind it,” and you kiss him again, liking the way he devours you like a hungry animal every time his lips are on you.

As he’s kissing you fervently, with tongue and spit, you let your fangs come out, nicking his bottom lip carefully. He hisses into your mouth, and you draw two drops of blood – one for each tooth – before the wounds heal shut.

Logan grins, “Feisty kitty,” he squeezes you at the waist, making you giggle.

“See, you like pain and I like it too.”

Logan hums at your words, hand moving up to play with one of your ears. You move to lie down on your side, Logan turning to face you. You watch him.

“Can I stay?” you ask shyly, quietly, and he doesn’t understand the man he was only an hour ago. How could he not want you entirely? He hates that he made you feel unsure for even a second.

“Of course, bub. You’re staying with me from now on.” You purr at his words, cuddling into him. 

He puts his arm around you, holding you close as you begin to lick all over his face. He giggles as you make your way over his beard and his neck too, grooming him like a kitty. Your claws hook into the muscle of his arm and, as much as he enjoyed it during sex, this is definitely something he still has to get used to, gasping at the contact. The way you purr louder makes it more than worth it.

You’re pawing at his hair, smoothing it back into place from where you’ve messed it up. Logan closes his eyes from how good it feels. Suddenly, he hears you giggle.

“Your hair is kind of like kitty ears,” you grin.

He deadpans. “Don’t ever say that again.”

Your fluffy tail bounces up and sways a bit as you giggle mischievously. You pretend to zip your mouth shut but he knows he’s never hearing the end of that. Maybe he doesn’t even mind it coming from you.

“So, did you escape just to come see me or d’you get permission?” He asks, remembering how you’re probably not even supposed to be here. 

You panic for a second, beginning to sit up, but Logan holds you down, “I won’t tell anyone you’re here, kitty. Told you you’re staying with me. Would just be good to know if you’re making me break the rules.”

The way you smile at him sheepishly tells him everything he needs to know. He presses another kiss to your adorable face.

“You coulda told them you’re leaving. I’m sure they’ll be looking for you, bub,” he tells you. You turn around so that you’re spooning, with him at your back and your tail wrapped around his thigh.

“Hmpfh, don’t care,” you begin to purr, closing your eyes, “Just wanna be with my daddy.”

Logan wants the same. 

You don’t stop purring as you drift off to sleep, held safely in Logan’s arms.

-

P.S. Logan thinks that hot readers leave a reblog and a comment and let the writer know what they enjoyed about the fic <333 🫣🤭

[julymusings]

simplicity

out there they're afraid even of the killer's shadow, and here i reside in his heartbeat like a home

or; the big bad red hood has a soft spot only for you [3.4k]

jason todd x fem!reader; tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff; aggressive unwanted advances, implied roofie attempt, violence & blood, slut-shaming; Jason “my girl can wear whatever she wants I can fight” Todd; in da clerb, we all fam ⎯ based on this !

A humid, crowded, upscale club isn’t the most ideal way to spend your Friday night, and Jason knows this. Frankly, it’s not his either, but as the owner of the humid, crowded, upscale club, he had to make some appearances at his own business.

“It’s a night out,” he had said. “Let’s make the most of it.”

If you’re being honest, it’s also not the worst way to spend your Friday night. Not when Jason dressed up so deliciously, in a fitted t-shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. Not when he took you to a booth in the corner of the club and had them bring over your favorite drinks and snacks with the order to keep them coming. Not when you got to wear that cute little black dress that’s been hanging in your closet for months with your favorite strappy heels, the ones with ribbons that wrapped around your ankle and tied into a bow in the back. Not when Jason sat you on his lap and settled a large hand on your thigh, where it stayed the whole night.

All in all, you would say you’re making the most of it. 

You’re sipping on your drink, chatting about something or the other with your boyfriend. He’s half listening, half drawing circles on your thigh and pressing kisses to your shoulder when one of the employees finds you. She’s freaking out because one of the performers hasn’t shown up, and there’s no one else to go in her place.

Jason huffs. He lifts you off his lap and sets you down on the seat. “I’m sorry, baby, I just gotta take care of this. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be here.” You smile over the rim of your glass.

He looks around for a moment, then gestures to someone across the room. One of the bouncers make their way to you.

“Just keep an eye out,” he tells him. “I don’t trust these entitled country club fuckers.”

He gives a curt nod. Jason leans in close, smirking, and says, “Especially not when you look like that,” and gives you a quick kiss before disappearing into the crowd with the employee.

A couple minutes later, a crash snaps your attention towards the bar. A young, college-aged-looking man is berating a waitress while a mess of shot glasses litter the floor around them. The waitress looks about to cry.

“Jesus Christ,” the bouncer says to himself. Then to you, “Gimme a second.”

You move to the edge of the booth to watch as he goes over and tries to pacify the man, but that only seems to make him angrier. He shoves the bouncer, yelling about “shitty customer service.” 

You don’t get to see what happens next, though, because your field of vision is obscured by an enormous, very shiny, and very douchey silver belt buckle. You look up for its owner, and a greasy-looking, white-haired man looks down at you. 

“Hey there, sweetheart.” A fake gold tooth catches the flashing lights and it glints in your eye. Uninvited, he slides into the booth across from you. He places a drink on the table, sliding it towards you. “You look thirsty. Got this for you.”

“No, thanks. I’ve got one.” You hold your own glass up.

He rolls his eyes. “Pretty thing like you should be takin’ advantage of all the free drinks you could be gettin’.” His smile sends a chill down your spine.

“Again, I’m fine,” you say, a little harsher. “My boyfriend has brought me plenty of drinks already.”

He laughs. It’s a high-pitched, scratchy, wheezing sound. Like a kazoo. “I don’t see this boyfriend of yours anywhere. He should know better than to leave you alone. I’d treat you much better than him.” His eyes travel down your neck and stay there. You stand from the booth and take a big step back. It’s not entirely personal; no matter how much of a threat he may be, Jason is a worse one. And if he’s still in this neighborhood, never mind this building, you fear for this man’s safety much more than your own. But the man follows, bringing the cup with him. “Come on, honey, it’s a compliment. Show a little thanks. I don’t bite.”

You don’t have to be the world’s finest detective to know that is most definitely a lie. Or to know to avoid that cup at all costs.

You could just rebuff him, walk away. But you’re willing to bet he’d just move on to the next woman. One who’s probably a little less sober, and a little less aware of her surroundings. You feign a stumble and knock the drink out of his grip. It tips toward him, drenching him with its contents. He chokes out a shocked gasp.

“Oops,” you deadpan, not at all trying to hide your indifference.

“You bitch,” he snarls. He lunges forward, snatching your wrist. You try to pull it back, but his grip is iron and bruising. “I was doing you a favor. Do you see anyone else here looking at you?”

You’re suddenly grateful you didn’t put up much of a fight after Jason came home from patrolling one night insisting he show you some self-defense moves. Far be it from you to cause a scene, but this guy isn’t giving you much choice. You employ the cardinal rule of women’s self-defense: go for the crotch. You shift your weight to your non-dominant side and launch your dominant knee right into his groin. The sharp metal edge of his belt buckle slices the skin just above your knee, but it shocks him enough to release your wrist and double over. The same leg used in your attack plants itself on the ground, and you use the momentum to pistol your opposite fist forward. It collides with his nose in a bone-cracking cross. Your stacks of studded rings didn’t do him any favors, either. He cries out in pain. His hands fly up to cover his nose, and the cup falls from his grasp and shatters on the floor, garnering the attention of some surrounding patrons. Blood seeps between his fingers.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for that.” His tone drips with poison. He reaches into his coat pocket and brandishes a switchblade (because of course. You’re not surprised, though. It is Gotham). You look around in a panic, hoping to find Jason towering somewhere over the crowd. He’s not there. A few guys who work for him, though, have since taken notice of the commotion and are making their way towards you. You know they won’t make it in time. You weren’t scared a moment ago, but you definitely are now. Jason only briefly covered disarming techniques, and you didn’t have his practice to stay calm in situations like these. He steps closer, shoes crunching over the glass shards, and you step back. You’re backed into a corner, literally. Your back is pressed against the table. His eyes are glassy and void of color.

There is a resounding pop when the man’s knife-wielding hand is yanked to the side. Too fast for your brain to register, he thuds against the table next to you and the knife clatters to the ground. You look over and see Jason, one hand pressing his face into the table and the other twisting the man’s arm behind his back. 

When his men finally reach you, Jason is seething. They look almost as afraid as the man, whose whimpers are muffled by the pressure with which he’s flattened against the table.

“Who the fuck let this happen,” Jason glowers. Uncomfortable glances are shared between the men, all sharing the same sentiment; we fucked up big time.

Jason’s livid gaze flits back and forth among them. His veins flex against his forearms, rippling with effort. It looks like he’s putting all his strength into incapacitating the man, but you know better. He’s putting all his strength into restraint. The look on his face is cold and steely, with hardened, venom-green eyes and a clenched jaw. This isn’t Jason, the sweet boyfriend, or Jason the easy-going yet respected club proprietor. This is Jason the crime lord. Jason the anti-hero. This is the Red Hood. Who makes his own rules and kills anyone who breaks them. It’s a bit off-putting for you to see him like this; he’s never like this with you. He’s always just…Jason. Your Jason.

One of his men speaks up. “We’re sorry, Boss, we were keepin’ an eye like you asked, but there was trouble up at the bar.”

Jason scowls. “Trouble that required all of you?”

At their silence, he rolls his eyes. “Idiots,” he says under his breath. He jerks the man up to stand, the hand that was pressing him to the table now gripping the back of his shirt collar. “Someone take care of this.” He shoves the man in their direction. Hard. One of them catches him. “And for fuck’s sake, check him for anything else.” 

While they’re busy patting him down, Jason turns back to you. You get whiplash from how quick his demeanor changes. Though still tense, the rigidity of his expression is long gone, replaced with tender concern.

“Are you okay?” His wide eyes scan you up and down, searching for any signs of injury. You manage a nod, still a bit stunned by his apparent shape-shifting abilities. “I’m so sorry, honey, this is my fault. It’s my fault for leaving you alone.” He pulls you close for a hug and kisses the top of your head, murmuring further apologies into your hair.

You pull back and cup his face in your hands. “It’s okay, Jay, I’m fine. I promise.” You lean in to kiss him and feel his shoulders relax.

“Jesus, man, sorry! Wouldn’t’a come on so strong if I knew she was your whore. How much did ‘ya pay for her, anyway?” His voice rings from behind. Jason tenses up again. When he pulls back from you, he’s gone. He’s like Jekyll-turned-Hyde when the combatant that lay dormant inside him reassumes his body.

He turns around, but his large frame shields you from seeing the scene unfold. You place a hand on his arm, a silent message of support, and you can feel him vibrating with anger. His hand comes to rest over yours and gives a reassuring squeeze.

“You know what?” You can’t be sure who he’s speaking to, but you can hear the eerie smile in his tone. “I’ll take care of this.” He faces you. “Can you give me a minute? Is that okay?” His voice is calm.

You know he would stay if you asked him to. And you never would, but you know he would go outside and kill that guy if you asked him to. And maybe you’re feeling a tad vindictive after the whole ordeal, so you just say, “Okay.”

He kisses your forehead, squeezing your hand once more. “I’ll come find you,” he says, stepping away, and you nod.

“Ross,” he commands. “Take her to the office. Get her whatever she wants.” Jason then speaks to all of his men. His tone drips with disdain. “Tomorrow we’ll talk about who’s getting fired for this.” You catch some of his men flinch.

He grabs the man by the collar once again and stalks towards the exit, dragging him along.

You’ve met Ross once or twice, though never exchanged more than a few words. He smiles at you. It’s amiable, if not slightly nervous. You know where the office is, but you’re still grateful for the guide. The mesh of moving bodies under dim lights makes all four corners of the room look the same. With the adrenaline wearing off, your hands ache and you become acutely aware of the stinging shock that shoots up your knee when you walk on it but, persevering, you follow him to the back. He holds the door that reads ‘RESTRICTED - DO NOT ENTER’ open for you, and you smile in thanks.

Various employees, servers and performers alike, mill about in the back hallways. You know some of them, having met in passing during other visits to the club, and offer polite greetings as you walk by. When you arrive at Jason’s office, Ross unlocks the door for you and you step inside.

It’s a nice office, noticeably homier than it was when you and Jason met. The first time he brought you back here it was just a desk, a chair, and a filing cabinet. You perched yourself on his desk while he sat in his chair and you teased him for not having a place for guests to sit, saying something about ‘men and their awful interior designing skills.’

“It’s not ‘bad skills,’ it’s cost-effective. ‘M runnin’ a business here, baby. If you need a place to sit that badly, you can sit right here.” He joked, patting his lap. And he said it with such conviction you believed him, but the next time you visited there was a brand new, plushy suede couch pushed against the wall.

You find a seat on said couch and try to get comfortable despite your protesting joints. From here you can spot a framed photo on Jason’s desk; the two of you smiling while bathing a shelter dog at the Wayne Animal Sanctuary. But while you smile at the camera, his gaze is trained on you.

 Ross stands in the doorway, stoic as a bodyguard should be. “Do you need anything?” He asks you.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“‘Course. I’ll be outside. Just yell if you need anything.” He moves to exit, but pauses. “Look,” he says, “We’re all really sorry about what happened. It was our fault. You have every right to hate us.” He chuckles self-deprecatingly. “God knows the boss does.”

You purse your lips, unsure how to respond. Technically Jason did instruct them not to leave you alone. But really, the only person at fault is that horrible man, and he was currently getting what he deserved.

“It’s okay, Ross,” you say, and you mean it. “I don’t blame you. And Jason’s not gonna fire any of you, okay? I won’t let him.”

He exhales. “Okay, you—yeah. Okay. Thanks.” He loiters awkwardly in the doorway for a moment. “Listen, Todd’s always been a great boss. But it’s no joke when it comes to you. Don’t know exactly what happened, but after meeting you, he’s just…different. Not sure if I believe it, but after the first time you were here, one of the bartenders swears they heard him whistling. Anyway, just mean to say…we’re glad he has you.”

His sincerity warms your heart. You thank him, and he assumes his post outside, closing the door. 

At last in decent lighting, you take the time to examine yourself. Your knee, knuckles, and wrist are splotchy with bruises. A small scrape rests just above your knee from you were scratched. There’s a splattering of blood on your knuckles and on the rings you’re wearing. You grimace, the reality of what just happened settling in. Someone pulled a knife on you. If Jason hadn’t been there…the thought leaves you cold.

There are voices on the other side of the door, then receding footsteps. After a few seconds, a knock.

“Baby? Can I come in?”

“Yes,” you call out. Jason enters, locking the door behind him. There are some smatterings of blood on his hands and face, and he’s holding a first aid kit. Your immediate instinct is that he’s the one who needs first aid.

“Are you okay?” You ask as he kneels on the floor in front of you. “Did he hurt you?”

Jason tilts his head like a confused puppy, eyebrow raised. Just like that, The Red Hood is gone. He’s Jason again. He speaks softly, with a hint of his usual boyish charm. “Should I be insulted by you asking me that?” He picks up your un-injured leg and places the foot on his thigh, beginning to unravel the ribbon wrapped around your ankle. He removes the shoe and places it to the side, then repeats with your other foot. But when he moves it, your knee twitches and you wince. He frowns but doesn’t say anything. He sees the way your eyes travel between all the spots of blood. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, none of it’s mine.”

You sigh in relief. “You didn’t…kill him, did you?”

He chuckles, lightly massaging your foot. “Nah…did you want me to? ‘Cause I can still—”

“No.”

He smirks at you, before leaning down to press a kiss to your bruised knee. It’s so gentle, so loving, it completely contradicts the bloodstains that adorn him. As his hands move up to your calf, your hand moves to his hair, fingers threading through the white streaks and pushing them back so you can get a better view of his eyes. They’re a silky teal, bordering on sea green. They remind you of lake trips in the summer, and ice skating during the holidays.

“How bad is he? Like, on a scale of ‘he can walk it off’ to ‘he needs to go to the hospital.’”

Jason pauses his movements, looking thoughtful for a moment.

“He…he’s walking himself to the hospital.”

There’s not much you can say to that. After all, you gave him to okay to go fuck that guy up.

From the first aid kit, he retrieves a box of Band-Aids. They’re the children’s ones, decorated with cartoons and various characters. A specific one catches your eye, and you pick it out of the carton.

“Robin? Really?”

Jason breathes out a small laugh. “One of my guys’ daughter loves him.” He unwraps the bandage and sticks it over the scratch. You admire the small red plaster. Jason traces a finger over the emblem in the center, a black and yellow ‘R’.

He moves from your leg to your hand, gingerly laying it in his palm. One by one he slides each of your rings off. They’re not particularly special, but you still like them and you try to protest when he tosses them in the trash. He’s quick to assuage you with promises to buy you new ones with, hopefully, less blood.

"Did you see how good I got him?" You suddenly feel shy asking such a question. Like a child seeking validation.

"I did see," Jason says. And there's not a hint of condescension in his tone. "I'm proud of you. You remembered what I taught you."

You beam under his pride.

He uses a sanitizing wipe to remove the droplets of blood from your knuckles, kissing each one along the way. He reaches your wrist last. There’s a purple hand-shaped mark that wraps around it, and he stares at it. You can see his thoughts race at sixty miles an hour, and you know he’s beating himself up about it.

“Hey.” The hand in his hair moves to stroke his cheek. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I promise. I love you.”

He leans forward to press his forehead to your wrist. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m sorry.” He places gentle kisses on the purple skin. “I’m sorry. I love you.” He moves to the scratch above your knee, pressing more kisses, repeating the words like a prayer. Your hand is still enclosed in his hands, and his cool fingers soothe the throbbing swell. You pull his head up, holding his chin in your fingertips. His eyes close as he soaks in your warm touch.

You reach for another wipe and begin wiping the blood from his face. Some of it has dried, so you press the wipe a little harder, and blood rushes to his cheeks to give him an adorable flush. You repeat the process on his hands. Blood erased and wipes discarded, you pull him up to the couch to lie down with you. He stretches out, so large that his feet hang over the armrest. You snuggle up to his side and your head rests on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. It’s surreal, how utterly soft he is, and just for you. How no one else gets to see him like this. He goes out at night as a fighter, a crusader, a deadly threat. And then he comes home to sleep in your arms. In your bed.

You place your hand against his chest, right over his heart to feel it thrum beneath your palm. It beats simple and steady, and just for you.

am i the only one who likes the whole jason owning the iceberg lounge storyline (aside from the whole penguin prisoner thing but i only write according to canon that i like and leave out the things i don't! whoops🤷‍♀️);

the feminine urge to write more fics that take place within the universe of this one...

divider is from here

[whimsiwitchy]

he's hooked (oneshot)

hugh jackman x actress!reader

summary: y/n is an actress in her early 20’s. after having the best night of her career, Hugh Jackman introduces himself. the two stars hook up in the venue's bathroom and for y/n it was nothing but a one night stand. However, Hugh becomes obsessed and can’t let her go so easily.

warnings: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, age gap (22/55), smut, protected vaginal penetration, dirty talk, reader is kinda cocky, hugh is very persistent, reader mentions age gap a lot, oral (f receiving), one use of daddy (in a playful way), bathroom sex.

authors note: y'all I am trying my absolute best to write smut. this is my second attempt and while i'm not super proud of it, I am proud of myself for trying. practice makes perfect I guess lol. anyways, I hope you enjoy. (sorry if it sucks butt) love y'all <33

 Tonight felt like a dream. It was the 97th Academy Awards and you had won your first Oscar for best actress. When your name was called, you were completely shocked. The category was filled with nominees that you had looked up to your entire life and you genuinely thought you had no shot of winning. You were completely honored to win such an award so early into your career. After the ceremony was over, most of the attendees made their way over to the Oscars Governors Ball, which was one of the few after parties that are held annually after the event. It felt surreal to be in a place full of Hollywood's biggest names and it was even crazier that you were now one of them. You were currently sitting at the bar waiting for a drink when a deep accented voice spoke. “Congratulations on your big win tonight. You deserve it.” When you look over to see who was speaking, you’re met with a very handsome Hugh Jackman. “Oh thank you. Congrats to you too, best actor.” Your tone is teasing yet sincere. “I’m Hugh.” He offers his hand to shake, which you take. “I know who you are, Mr.Jackman. I’m y/n.” You shake his hand firmly, letting it go right after. “I know who you are, Ms. y/l/n.” He joked back and you let out a small laugh. You look forward as the bartender sits your drink in front of you and you give him a quick thank you. From the corner of your eye, you can see Hugh’s eyes trail your body. “Did you just check me out?” You turn your head to face him. “It’s hard not to when you look that good.” Hugh says without missing a beat. “Aren’t you married? I don’t think your wife would appreciate you hitting on a twenty two year old.” You give him an accusing look. He lifts his left hand, showing off his bare ring finger. “I'm divorced, babe.” You almost miss the smirk that rests on his bearded face. 

“Hm. Well in that case, there are plenty of beautiful women here your own age here that would happily go home with you tonight. Maybe you should flirt with them.” You turn back to your drink, taking a long sip through the skinny straw. “None of them are as pretty as you. You’re the most gorgeous woman here by far.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Bye Hugh Jackman. It was nice meeting you.” You slowly climb down the tall ball stool and grab your drink. Before you can walk off, Hugh calls your name, causing you to turn back towards him. “I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime.” He smiles and you’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your heartbeat stutter. “You know that Real Steel was my favorite movie when I was like eleven. Does that make my age more apparent to you or do you not care?” He furrows his brows, pretending to think for a moment. “Hm. I don’t think I care very much.” You laugh, dropping your head. “You’re unbelievable.” He smiles. “So is that a yes?” “No.” You smile and walk away. 

—

Your friend Kayleigh was ranting to you about a technical issue that happened during her performance earlier in the night and you were trying your best to pay attention. Sometime in between the chat you had with Hugh and now, he had removed the black suit jacket he had on. The sleeves of his white button up dress shirt were rolled up, showing off his large forearms, his biceps peaking out slightly. It was overly distracting. “Girl what the fuck are you staring at?” She moves her head around trying to match your staring gaze. “Y/n please don’t tell me you're staring at that old man right now.” You give her a sheepish look. “God, straight people are so fucking weird.” She sighs. “It’s not weird. He’s kinda hot.” You admit. “Whatever you say. Why don’t you just go talk to him? I’m almost positive he’d fuck you if you ask.” You look back over to where Hugh is talking to some older woman, just like you had suggested. “I kinda already turned him down. Well, not for sex. He asked me to dinner.” Her face scrunches up. “Ew. He’s like older than your parents.” You laugh. “Is it bad that I find that hot?” She nods. “Yes y/n. That’s like really fucking weird dude.” You ignore her. “Should I go try to get him to fuck me?” You ask, genuinely wanting her opinion. “If that’s really what you’re into these days, go for it. I’m highly disgusted by you right now though.” You stand up and grab the small clutch you had with you. “Eh. You’ll get over it. You’ll be okay on your own for a little bit?” She gives you a thumbs up and you make your way over to Hugh and the woman he was speaking to. 

“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” You apologize and turn to Hugh. “Could I talk to you alone for a moment?” He looks confused and completely caught off guard. “Uh, yea.” He turns to the woman. “It was nice to catch up with you.” She says something back that you don’t catch, too busy staring at the vein that is basically jumping out of Hugh’s arm. “You wanted to talk to me?” His words bring you out of your thirsting trance. “Follow me.” You grab his hand, dragging him through a door and into a hallway. “Where are we going?” He asks, taken aback by your lack of plan. “I’m not sure.” You say as you continue to drag him. “Y/n slow down, we can talk here. There’s no one out here.” He stops walking and it makes you tumble back, his grip on your hand stopping you from continuing forward. “We need somewhere private.” His confused expression only deepens. “I don’t know how much more private this can get darling. If it’s really that much of a secret, we can stop talking if someone comes by.” He offers and you huff. “I don’t actually wanna talk Hugh.” 

“You’re confusing me here darling.” You wiggle your hand out of his and raise it to your head in frustration. “I want you to fuck me.” You look at him and his eyes go wide. “I’m sorry…what?” “If you don’t want to, that's fine, we can go back.” Your confidence began to falter. “Wait, that’s not what I'm saying.” 

“So you want to fuck me?” He takes a moment to think before answering.

“Yes.” 

“Then help me find somewhere private.” The two of you make your way down the never ending hallway, checking every door you see. Hugh opens a door and closes it, making his way down the hallway. Seeing as it was the only door that opened so far, you went to check it yourself and saw that it was an empty bathroom. “Why’d you keep going, this is perfect.” You shout at him. “I’m not fucking you in a bathroom.” He looks at you like that was obvious. “Well it’s not like we have any other options. Come on.” You go inside and wait for him. Once he’s inside you motion to the door. “Lock it.” You tell him. “We’re really doing this?” He asks, confirming. “Unless you don’t want to.” He takes a pause before speaking again. “Get your pretty ass over here.” He growls. 

You walk over to him slowly. He pulls you close to him once you’re in arms reach and you look up at him through your lashes. “Too damn sexy for your own good.” He whispers before leaning down and locking his lips with yours. The feeling of his beard against your skin was addicting. The kiss was slow at first, both of you testing the waters with each other. It was you who begged to enter his mouth, tongue sliding against his lips. You didn’t want to come off so desperate but you needed more from him. His large hands slid down to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze that has you gasping. His tongue dives into your mouth, exploring every crevice. It’s messy but it’s hot. “Jump.” He commands and you listen. His hands grab the back side of your thighs and he walks you over to the counter, sitting you down inbetween two of the sinks. His lips are back on yours the moment your body touches the cold surface. 

“You sure you want to do this baby?” He asks. “Positive.” You breathe out. Hugh bends down, sitting on both of his knees. Grabbing your ankle, he gives kisses to the skin that your heel doesn’t cover. He moves upward, leaving long sensual kisses up your calf and thigh, raising the end of your dress as he goes. As simple as the gesture was, it felt erotic, never having a man take this kind of care with you before. His lips move higher, curving with your leg until he’s hovering above your pussy. “You’re wet already baby?” His voice is cocky and if it weren’t for the heat of his breath making your mind foggy, you would’ve called him out on it. He gives the wet spot on your panties a shy kiss. The act has you letting out a quiet moan, sounding louder from the echo of the bathroom. He slips a finger behind the cotton of your underwear and tugs at it while looking up at you. “Can I take these off?” He asks, finger still tugging the fabric dangerously close to where you need him the most. “Yes.” It’s breathy but it gets the job done because Hugh moves his head up, grabbing the top of the fabric with his teeth. He starts to tug your panties down, using one of his hands to help the other side. You lift your body slightly as Hugh pulls them down farther. When they’re all the way off, Hugh sits back with your panties hanging from the big toothy smile he's wearing. The sight was definitely going to be what you pictured the next time you touched yourself. 

“Oh fuck me..” He grabs your panties from his teeth and slides them into his back pocket. “Mhm. not yet, baby. Wanna eat your pretty pussy first.” He leans back in between your legs, lips ghosting over your heat. “So perfect.” He whispers as he kisses each pussy lip three times before finally kissing your clit. “Mhmm, please Hugh.” His tongue slides from your opening to your bud teasingly slow. You can feel his beard scratching the sensitive skin but it only adds to the pleasure. He swirls his tongue around your clit a few times before sucking it into his lips, the feeling causes you to jerk your hips. His hands, that were gently holding your ankles, moved up to hold your hips down. His mouth moves down to your opening, tongue plunging in and out a few times before moving back up to your clit. You hadn’t even noticed that one of his hands moved from your hip until you felt one of his fingers dip into you slowly. He curls the finger and moves it back and forth at an unexpectedly fast pace. Before you can adjust to it, he’s adding another finger and it all becomes too much. “Fuck..I’m gonna cum.” Your words are mixed with moans. He doesn't let up, his tongue and fingers speeding up and it has you cumming hard around his fingers, loud moans feel the air. He gives your pussy one last kiss before leaning back and removing his fingers. When you can fully see his face, it is a sight to see. His salt and pepper beard is covered in your slick, lips glossy. 

“Want you to see how good you taste darling.” He says while moving his two fingers to your lips. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, taking his fingers in your mouth slowly. Hugh hisses as you suck around his fingers, tongue swirling around each one.  Once you're confident that they’re clean, you grab his wrist and take his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. “You still gonna fuck me old man or did you already cum in your pants?” You joke with him. He stands up, both knees popping in the process. Just as you're about to laugh and make fun of him some more, he grabs you off of the counter to stand you up. He turns you around and bends you over the counter. “You keep talking like you weren’t the one staring at me for an hour before asking me to fuck you.” He goes to undo his belt buckle and you shiver at the sound. You're looking back at him through the mirror. “Whatever.” You reach over to your clutch and open it, grabbing a condom. You reach back and hold it back to Hugh. “Here, put this on.” He grabs it with a questioning look. “Why were you carrying condoms?” You roll your eyes and rest your head in your hands, elbows propped up. “Can you mind your business and fuck me already. I’m getting bored.” You were lying right through your teeth. You were far from bored but you wanted to keep the whole ‘hard to get’ game going a little longer.

You watch him open the condom and see his arms move as he rolls it down his cock. As bad as you wished you could see him fully but it was kind of exciting- not knowing what you were about to get. “How do you want me baby?” He asks, looking at you through the mirror. You get a small glimpse of his dick as he slaps it across your ass. “Give me all you got daddy.” He smirks and shakes his head at the name. He lines up his member with your entrance and slides in slowly. Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t wait long before he’s slamming back into you. The stretch stings slightly and you hadn’t expected him to be so big. He slaps your ass hard and you yelp in response. You drop your head down at the pleasure. “Nuh uh. Look at me while I fuck you baby.” You raise your head to look at Hugh through the mirror again. “That’s it. Look at how pretty you look getting fucked by an old man.” You couldn’t help but listen to him. Hugh was fucking you dumb and you couldn’t think straight. His balls hitting your clit was what sent you over the edge for a second time. “Please don’t stop Hugh mhmmm fuck baby. I’m cumming, please don’t stop, baby.” Your moans match the rhythm of his hips, each thrust knocking the air out of you with its force. “Just like that sweet girl. Fuck not gonna last much longer.” Even after your high, the pleasure continues as Hugh chases his own. You push your hips back, meeting his thrust. The act makes Hugh moan. “Mhm, I'm gonna cum baby.” His hands squeeze your hips, thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. 

The two of you stay quiet as you both freshen up and try to make it less noticeable that you two left to have sex. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting lazily as you watch Hugh toss his hair around. “Can you kiss me again?” You ask Hugh. He smiles and walks over to stand in between your legs. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you. “Mhm. You're a good kisser.” The compliment is sincere. You could kiss his lips for hours if he’d let you. He hums. “So, are you gonna let me take you out now?” You look in his eyes and smile. “Hugh we can’t. This was fun and it was good sex but that’s all it was.” “Why can’t we?” He’s quick with his words. “It’s just not practical Hugh. I think you're handsome and you seem like a sweet guy but I'm too young for you. The press would tear us apart quicker than we got together.” You explain. “Fuck the press. Let me take you out and get to know you at least.” You sigh. “I’m sorry Hugh. I can’t.” You offer him a small smile. “I’m not gonna stop trying. You’re too good to lose.” He kisses your cheek. “I should get back out there. I have a friend waiting for me.” He steps back, letting you hop down from the counter. “Bye Hugh Jackman.” You give him a small peck on the lips before leaving the bathroom. 

— 

A few weeks later, you were on set for the newest film you were working on. You’d just arrived an hour earlier and were sent to your trailer to get ready for the first scene. When you walked through the door, you were greeted with a bouquet of wildflowers and a note that read:

I can’t stop thinking about you. -H.J (xxx) xxx-xxxx

tag list: @prettycoolgirl, @nonamevenus, @godlypresley, @pedroscurls, @evasmlp, @bluetimeombre, @sue8724, @princessanglophile, @kellyxo1, @ccmoonshine, @hughverine, @chronicallybubbly, @realhotgirlshitah, @aurlavr, @almosthumongousfunsblog, @wolviesgirl, @flirtyjen, @lilgrinchbitch, @majesticalcocoa, @liamdasimp, @needz1nk, @squishyfruitloop, @afra-ww, @veru-boom

[luveline]

Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!

ty for requesting!! <3 —Hotch will look after you, even when you don’t tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k

cw reader has a concussion

Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobody’s watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he can’t do it like you can. There’s something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever you’re near. 

You’re not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when they’re over, is the thing, and he can’t keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk. 

He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because she’s exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. He’s surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer. 

“Hotch, what are you still doing here?” 

Hotch gives him a strange look. It’s not as though Morgan hasn’t seen Hotch clean up a mess before. “Sorry?” 

“I thought you’d be with Y/N.” 

He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they haven’t noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. “She went home.” 

“No she didn’t, they took her in an ambulance. She’s at the hospital, nobody told you that?” 

Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesn’t even say where he’s going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and he’s a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess. 

You don’t answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ. 

“Hi Hotch.” 

“Is she there? Can I speak to her?” 

“She went in for an MRI a half hour ago.”

“JJ, what happened? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 

“She said she told you.” A dry laugh from down the phone. “You’d think I’d learn not to trust her. I love her, but she’s a liar.” 

Hotch could say the same thing. “JJ, what happened? What’s wrong with her?” 

“I think she’s embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her leg and she slipped down the stairs.” 

“Who stepped on her?” Hotch asks. 

JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if they’re too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. He’d fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive. 

He’s out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesn’t have to flash his badge to get told what room they’ve put you in. He would’ve, and he would’ve threatened legal action. He’s no saint. He’ll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you. 

You’re in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. You’re smiling. JJ bites her lip. 

She turns to Hotch with relief. “Hey, look,” she says gently. 

“You took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?” 

Hotch understands quite quickly. “Sorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?” 

You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. “The light.” 

Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. It’s hidden behind other concerning tech, so he’s careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side. 

“Maybe she thought she told me,” he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly aren’t in a state to make decisions for yourself. 

JJ rubs your arm. “She got worse after we got here. That’s why they sent for her MRI so quickly. She’s on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.”   

Hotch knows she’s concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasn’t talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. “Go back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.” 

JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure. 

He admires her loyalty, he just wishes she’d called him two hours ago. 

You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that you’d been here, hurt, without him. “Can I tie your gown again?” he asks. 

You nod into your rubbing. 

“I turned the lights off. It shouldn’t be so bright in here anymore.” He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldn’t. You poor girl. “You’re a little… stark.” 

“I’m trying to think of some fruit and milk,” you tell him. 

“Do you need help?” 

“Not for the fruit.” 

“But for the milk,” he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow. 

“I don’t think that’s what I meant to say.” 

He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. “That’s okay, honey, you’re having a little trouble now, but it’ll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.” 

“You could be a doctor.” 

“I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about medicine.” 

“A very nice doctor. Big hands.” You breathe out loudly, more animated than he’s ever heard you. “Whoo, I’m cold. I think they made me naked.” 

“How about I tuck you in, would you like that?” he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head. 

You stare up at him. “You want to?” 

“I’d love to. I want you to be comfortable.” 

“My boyfriend might not like it.” 

Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You aren’t only incoherent, but amnesiac. And you’ve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least you’ve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes it’s him. 

“No? Why wouldn’t he like it, honey? I’m just trying to take care of you.” 

You visibly fluster. “You’re calling me honey like he does, and he won’t like it ‘cos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesn’t know where he’s going.” 

That second half is gibberish, he’s sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.

You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. “Ow.” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs. 

“Don’t tell Aaron I got hurt.” 

“Why not?” 

“I fell down the stairs. He’s never fallen down the stairs.” 

“I have, actually. Twice. And it doesn’t matter how you get hurt, I want to know you’re alright, so I need you to tell me.” 

He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. “Aaron?” you ask eventually, lifting your chin. 

“Yes?” 

You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. “You didn’t come with me.” 

“I didn’t know you were hurt.” He squeezes your hip softly. “You didn’t tell me. But it’s not your fault, is it? You got hurt.” His voice falls into silk. “Is that warm enough?” 

“I’m glad you’re here. I need you to get my shoes.” 

“No shoes. Can I have a hug?” 

“Why?” 

“Just to hug you,” he says softly. “It might make you feel better.” 

You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin. 

Thank god she’s okay, he thinks. 

“Am I stuck like this?” you ask. 

“Are you worried?” He taps your back. “I doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but it’s okay. Feeling better is the priority.” 

“I’d like to go back.” 

“Home?” 

“For breakfast.” 

“Are you hungry? I can find you something to eat.” 

“What?” you ask. 

You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? We’ll wait for the doctor together.” 

He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb. 

[pshcomforts]

➳ brought the heat back | psh.

situationship!sunghoon x fem!reader (feat. gunwook from zerobaseone)

“i’m so jealous, i’m going crazy, my patience will run out”

synopsis: sunghoon definitely wasn’t amused when coming to a party and seeing some guy talk to you.

warnings/content: written in third pov. mentions of alcohol. suggestive. little fluff. tension. possessive and jealous sunghoon (what did you expect). cursing. not proofread.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 2.7k

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: brought the heat back by enhypen

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

0:34 ──|───────────────── 2:22

y/n had just arrived to the dim-lit party, music loudly blasting through her ears as she moved past waves of people.

the girl struggled to find her friends as they remained scattered all around.

“damn heeseung just had to throw a huge ass party..,” she mumbled to herself, sighing softly once she realized she wouldn’t be able to find anyone.

she even sent texts, but she deemed that all had gone off of their phones for the night so she settled on a drink and time well spent of being alone.

that was until her coworker had approached her.

“hey y/n!” gunwook yelled out, grinning at her shocked expression.

“gunwook?? i never thought i’d see you here!”

the male laughed before taking a step closer to her. “never thought i would’ve either, especially when you’re alone.” he frowned, earning a playful smile to form on y/n. “where are your friends?”

“they’re off somewhere… i can’t find them honestly..,” she admitted to him.

gunwook quickly wore a grin that reflected hers, presenting a sweet expression as he said, “so.. i take it you’re alone then?”

she cocked a brow at him before the two broke out into laughter. “what do you mean by that, gunwook…?” she softly teased, breaking another chuckle out of him.

“just saying… if i’m alone, and you’re alone, we can be each others company.”

the girl tensed up for a second, stopping to process the words her coworker had just uttered out to her.

that wasn’t what she thought it meant.. right?

she glanced at the tall boy to search for what his intentions were, but given that they were just coworkers, she deemed it was nothing, so she agreed.

surely, no one would be upset with that option, right? (no)

gunwook offered to get the next cup of liquor after she downed her first, both sitting on the couch that had been crowded by others.

“why didn’t you help that customer out??” he laughed with a huge grin plastered across his face.

“because!—“ y/n yelled, pausing to sip her cup. “she looked like she would’ve much rather talked to you so i let her go to you!”

the boy sputtered out a giggle. “so you let me have your sale then?” he teased, earning a soft hit on the arm.

“well that wasn’t my intention, she just seemed more interested in talking to you so i didn’t know what else to do.” she rolled her eyes, scoffing as she remained hearing hearty laughs erupt out of him.

he let his tongue slip through his lips when he furrowed his brows and shook his head. “you could’ve just stolen that sale from me, y/n. i would’ve let you,” he sighed.

“well i’m sorry, gunwook, i thought you would’ve actually appreciated getting that sale.”

the two laughed out her play on sarcasm, unintentionally getting closer with their body movements.

just when their heads were about to bunk, a buzzing notification caught y/n’s attention and thinking it was one of her friends, she quickly glanced at it.

just a friend ‼️:

Stop getting close to him.

Do you want me to do something about it?

✩ ‘who is that guy who said hello earlier?’ ✩

her heart instantly dropped at the texts. where was he? and how did he know? she tried to scan around the area, but another notification pulled her back to her phone.

just a friend ‼️:

Looking for me?

y/n began to text back with her heartbeats getting louder by the second. her hands were softly shaking and she didn’t know what to do.

encountering jealous hoon was something that happened occasionally, but it was always minor and not noticeable enough to make it seem like they were more than friends.

✩ ‘i’m getting jealous’ ✩

‘where are you? and why are you watching me??’ — she quickly messaged back, chewing her lips as gunwook started to notice the change in her demeanor.

just a friend ‼️:

Don’t worry about where I am, pretty girl

Now get his hand off of your leg or I’ll come over and do it myself.

✩ ‘it’s weird, i don’t want to but i’m envious’ ✩

y/n felt her stomach rupture with butterflies at the possessive tone in his text. her eyes fell down to her leg and finally noticed the unintentional hand slip there.

“gunwook, your hand..,” she awkwardly mumbled, gesturing down to where it laid.

the boy quickly gasped and removed it with a blush forming on his cheeks. “oh god, i’m sorry! i didn’t know my hand was there…,” he admitted in shame. “that won’t make it awkward at work right..?”

she shook her head in reassurance and laughed at the way he panicked. “noo, you’re fine!! i didn’t realize it was there either..,” she chortled.

gunwook nodded, cheeks still flushing with embarrassment as he scratched his neck.

“sorry about that…,”

“what are you sorry for!” y/n swiftly chuckled. “you did nothing wrong, gunwook!” her hand placed itself on his arm out of habit, attempting to reassure the boy but the only thing it did was set off alarms in sunghoon’s head.

the older male who watched from afar felt his jaw tighten at the little action, eyes squinting and staring down at the two who were innocently on the couch.

✩ ‘why are you smiling at him like that?’ ✩

his hands went to his phone, typing his message out of irritation.

‘Why do you have your hand on his arm? Take it off.’

✩ ‘it feels like burning, hotter, hotter’ ✩

he glanced up with crossed arms, hoping that his girl would listen. he watched her mumble incoherent words that he couldn’t make out and soon enough, her hands slipped away from that stupid guys arms.

✩ ‘rough madness’ ✩

his lips began to curl and a smirk started to form as his gaze remained on the two, not even caring that there was a party going on.

✩ ‘it’s getting stronger, stronger’ ✩

jake even tried to offer a drink, but sunghoon declined, not wanting to feed the jealous rage that still fumed in the pit of his stomach.

but when he found that tall boy inch closer to y/n, his heart was quick to sink. he straightened himself before walking to the scene without even thinking, fists clenched and brows furrowed to display his pissed reaction.

✩ ‘i can’t stand it’ ✩

sunghoon stood before them, eyes narrowing down at the guy he couldn’t recognize.

“y/n,” he gritted out with a tightened jaw, hating the way his heart burned at this.

✩ ‘i can’t hide it, my head is spinning, crazy, yeah’ ✩

he watched how the girl instantly pieced that it was him as she glanced back. “sunghoon…,” she gulped, finally taking in the handsome features present on him.

he quickly let out a soft scoff, eyes rolled while keeping his glare directly on her.

a soft lick was made between his lips. “what are you doing, hm?” he taunted, smile slowly curling once he saw how she lowly panicked.

“nothing, hoon. i’m just catching up with my coworker.” y/n quickly excused, gesturing to gunwook, who awkwardly sat there.

✩ ‘don’t test me’ ✩

but the older male didn’t bother to glance at him, letting his attention lay completely on the girl who he wanted as his.

before he could speak, gunwook intervened with a murmur — “we’re really just coworkers, man.”

sunghoon glared back at him for a second, disbelief written on his face as he scoffed. that’s not what it looked like seconds ago when he was inches away from his girl.

✩ ‘trying hard to endure, endure’ ✩

he got a hold of y/n’s wrist, fingers tightening around while pulling her away from the scene. his nails were close to digging into her skin as his heart picked up on the jealous energy that chucked at him.

✩ ‘i’m going crazy like this, i’m going crazy’ ✩

she softly winced in pain, feeling every press of his slim fingers that wrapped around her wrist.

“sunghoon..,” y/n whispered, but he ignored her, making the girl unable to clarify that gunwook was just leaning in to remove something from her hair.

truth be told though, he almost fell weak to his knees when his name had slipped out of her mouth. his possessive demeanor nearly dropped, but only grew stronger once he realized it fueled flame to fire.

✩ ‘no, it ain’t my fault, ain’t my fault’ ✩

the inner corner of his lips curled in satisfaction before bringing her to an empty room.

the door quickly closed and y/n was slammed against it with hoon caging her to himself. his arms were securely palmed against the door as his eyes stared down at her.

“sunghoon..,” she quietly murmured out again, heart fluttering at his tall frame towering over hers.

he tilted his head with a slight brow raise in response, loving how weak she could fall within seconds of barely making contact. he leaned himself in, closing the gap between their heated bodies.

✩ ‘ain’t my fault, it’s because of you’ ✩

their lips barely grazed against each others as his breath hit her skin. “what are we doing?” y/n mumbled to him, truly confused at their situation.

sunghoon swallowed down a harsh lump in his throat, trying to find words that would answer her question. “i don’t know, y/n. you tell me,” he squinted his eyes in jealousy again. “one second you’re texting me about how we should go watch this new movie together, and the next you’re talking to your coworker who obviously likes you.”

one of his hands that laid flat against the door began to clench, turning it into a fist as he remembered just how close the boy was getting to her.

“do you like him?” he questioned, feeling his heartbeats rise with every silent second that passed.

✩ ‘don’t be confused, is it me or him’ ✩

y/n stayed quiet, unable to admit her feelings for the guy in front of her when she suddenly felt a finger hook around her chin. sunghoon pulled her attention onto him, eyes boring into hers to get a straight answer.

“tell me, pretty.” he spat, already knowing that she liked him, and not the coworker.

at this point, his lips were about to get a taste before he could even think. he was close to caving in with how her silence was saying much more than needed.

he let his top lip graze against hers again, noses bunking and foreheads almost colliding when the room began to get hotter.

“say it,” hoon whispered near her skin, faint groans slipping pass his throat when he felt her try to resist.

y/n gulped, softly biting her lips to temper herself down but couldn’t when they were so close to taking it to the next level. “i like you, sunghoon, not him.” she confessed, feeling her stomach bubble with butterflies.

his lips were quick to coil into a shit-eating grin, causing her to feel it against her skin as he murmured, “you drive me crazy, angel. you don’t even understand what you do to me.”

before she could even speak, he smashed his lips against hers, finally colliding into a much needed kiss. y/n quietly gasped, allowing more entrance for the male as her hands instantly ran to his muscular arms.

she squeezed them, trying to signal for him to pull away with how rough he moved against her, but he couldn’t stop. even if he wanted to, he couldn’t with how much he had been craving this.

sunghoon’s thick brows furrowed as he continued, loving the sweet taste her lips offered while his hands slipped down to her waist. he pushed himself closer, allowing her to melt into the harsh movements.

and once she did so, her hands quickly moved up to the messy hair that covered his forehead, softly tugging at them to stimulate his satisfaction.

he let out a soft groan, pulling back ever so slightly to take a breather with all that was going on.

y/n felt his breath fan against her skin, making her glance down at his now-swollen lips that were running pink around the edges from his initial intention to go for it.

sunghoon quickly leaned it, urging for another kiss when her hands stopped at his broad chest. “hoon, let me breathe,” she whined, earning a low chuckle.

a soft sigh left him as he wore a mischievous grin. “fine, breathe then.” he uttered out before leaning in closer to her neck.

he pressed firm kisses against it, causing a gasp to be heard from his girl. “sunghoon!” she yelled, trying to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

the asshole only smiled, continuing to leave pecks around her neck to tease. “what? i’m letting you breathe,” he taunted with a coy tone. “isn’t that what you wanted?”

she whined at his words, still attempting to push away at his shoulders. “you better not leave anything noticeable.” she warned once she felt his vampire-like fangs begin to nibble.

a scoff immediately fell from his lips. “why? can’t i let everyone know that you’re mine now?” he growled.

when she kept her mouth shut, he let another puff of air slip by. “oh i see.” he peered into her gaze. “you don’t want that coworker of yours to know, hm?”

sunghoon quickly narrowed his eyes and poked his tongue out through his cheek. “aren’t you gonna admit it?” he asked, thumb pulling her bottom lip down.

y/n choked out, completely falling in a daze at how jealous he was. “it’s not that…,” she murmured.

“then what is it?”

“i just don’t want anything noticeable, hoon.” the girl frowned. “it’s hard to cover up.”

hoon widely grinned, raising his brows as he uttered, “isn’t that the whole point?”

she rolled her eyes and shoved his arm. “i can’t have it show anywhere, idiot, especially at work.”

“so i’m right then?” he joked, earning another nudge on the arm as he laughed. “you could’ve just admitted it, you know?”

“that’s not what i meant, dumbass!” y/n defended, now smacking his arms and giggling alongside him.

the two continued their banter until sunghoon decisively wrapped his arms around her, stopping the constant hits he was receiving.

“fine, no marks.” he huffed, muzzling his head into her shoulder. he breathed in her intoxicating scent as he tightened her closer to his chest.

“you’re mine now though, right?”

y/n laughed at his words before bringing her hands up to hit his arm. “obviously.. idiot,” she responded.

sunghoon’s lips formed a huge smile that was now plastered across his face. “good…,” his soft voice whispered — “because i hate that coworker of yours.”

“hoon, he wasn’t even doing anything that bad.”

he playfully scoffed. “so now you’re trying to defend him?”

she quickly rolled her eyes. “sunghoon! he was—“

he leaned in with a grin, pressing his lips against hers to shut her up. his hand firmly held her cheeks as he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

hoon finally pulled away after her arms wrapped around his neck.

“i hate you,” she murmured.

“as if.” his lips connected with hers again for a soft peck, unable to restrain himself.

and when he leaned in again, y/n put a hand to his chest once more. “we should go back to the party,” she said, knowing how much he wanted to kiss again.

“come on, baby.” sunghoon whined, giving a slight pout. “don’t say that.”

she giggled before shaking her head. “let’s go, hoon, before they start to get suspicious.” the girl replied.

he declined for minutes, trying to convince her for another kiss, in which she eventually gave in.

y/n planted a soft peck on his lips that lasted only seconds, leaving him to scoff.

“okay, what was that?”

“that was a kiss?” she teased.

“you know i want more than that.”

his brow raised and she only laughed before pushing the door open and holding his hand. “later, dummy. come on!” y/n quickly dragged her grumbling boy out to the party and ignored his petty behavior that came afterward.

safe to say that sunghoon was definitely gonna get another kiss that night.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

a/n: heyy… i know it’s been a while.. i’m sorry! i’m currently working and also doing a summer session so i haven’t had any time at all to write, but i’m hoping to be posting regularly again. but if not then.. you will be hearing from me once a month…

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ HEARTBEAT

tw. pseudocest, noncon, possessiveness, grooming?, age gap, blood, murder, a lot of trauma bonding

wordcount. 6k

a/n. thank yoUUUU rhi for betaing you are my favorite as alwaysssss I love you soooo much ♡♡

okkotsu yuuta x fem!reader

Blood is splattered on the ground of the dirty alley, and there’s another heavy thump when his kick once again lands on the kid’s skull and he moans in pain. He calls him a kid in his head because he’s got that shit-faced little attitude, and now an ugly gap where his front teeth used to sit, but he should be old enough to know better. As a couple passes by the narrow street, he shields things from view a little, before using the long edge of his sheathed sword to push the dumb, bloody face to the side. Because his eyes are starting to look like two overripe tomatoes from the impact, he couches down before the sandy brunet.

“You know what this is about?” Yuuta’s voice is hoarse. He hadn’t really noticed it before, but it’s been a busy week cleaning up your messes. Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t mind. If anything, it makes him feel sort of useful. You’re good and kind and don’t get into trouble on purpose — which is why he’s here late at night making sure things get handled. Niisan’s got it, after all. He doesn’t bother to clear his voice. “Hey.”

“Take my cash,” the young man below him now whistles through the missing teeth, teary eyes darting around as he pats his hand all over himself to look for a wallet.

Yuuta scoffs. “I don’t want your money. If I did, you think I’d waste my time beating your face in like you had it coming?” The anxious, almost nervous lilt to his own voice doesn’t escape him. If you could see him now, you’d probably say that he was enjoying this too much - and while he is, the idea of this getting back to you doesn’t escape his mind. It won’t though, logically speaking. The kid probably wouldn’t be able to see straight for a couple hours, and you will never find out. “I want to know why you’re hanging around Rika’s kid sister.”

“Kid? W- I don’t know any Rika!” He yelps when he tries to lift his head and gets the handle of the weapon hit hard onto the bridge of his nose again, adding more blood to the mess that’s running all over the bottom of his face. Yuuta really can’t see it, lifting his top lip in slight disgust. Handsome, where? Just as much as this boy isn’t really a kid anymore, neither are you. But you’re younger, and deserving of protection — is it really so bad he wants to imagine you as his baby sister for a bit longer before you start trying to escape from under his wings?

Not that you’re going to go anywhere.

“I don’t know a Rika,” the blond whines again now, hiding his face into his hands to drool and hiccup against the cold floor.

“Orimoto Rika, has a kid sister.” Yuuta bites back, patience running really thin.

“O-I- I kn- oh, we’re in the same uni prep class!” He gets up to close his eyes and focus all his attention on not just kicking against his skull until the answers fall out. He knows that, how else would he even know to ask? The head damage takes it a few seconds to make the guy continue, sniffling. “We’re friends- or- my friend knew her. I liked her so we hung out a few times.” Yuuta’s hand is cold around the worn handle.

He takes a slow breath, watches the cloud of air as he lets it out. The promise ring glints in the light of the street, and it’s all familiarity and instinct that makes him brush his thumb over it. “Were you serious with her? Or did you tell her whatever so you could fuck her? Hm? Did you fuck my little sister?” The brunet snivels and whines under him when his foot lands back right before his face, demanding attention.

“I won’t talk to her anymore, I swear! I swear I w-won’t even - it’ll be like I never existed. Please.” The pitiful whining he’s doing, groveling like a dog below him - sort of reminds him of a younger him. Someone who didn’t have a purpose yet, and was scared of everything for it. The heavy weight of the ring clings to his hand when he lifts it to unsheath the katana, seeming to wrap a comforting palm around his own. If he could, he'd tangle fingers with her.

“P-please, let me go home! I didn’t do- I wouldn’t touch your s-sister, I didn’t know.”

“I hate guys who aren’t serious with her.” He clicks his tongue, and has to spit out the nasty taste that this entire situation leaves on his tongue. The weight of the sword is barely an inconvenience when both hands wrap around the handle properly. He’s doing this for Rika and him. Always. “She deserves so much better.” A mean flash of possession crosses his thoughts - how no one except him will ever be good enough. But he pushes it back, because that has nothing to do with why he’s doing this. Nothing.

+

“Yuuta~” Her voice haunts when he closes his eyes.

He’s in the sandpit of the Children’s hospital, rocking back and forth softly on the edge of it as he waits. The sun makes the sand nice and toasty, it warms his feet when he plants them down. “Yuuta!” It’s instinctive, when he looks up at the familiar voice. Rika’s hair travels in a perfect arc behind her when she runs to make it catch the light like a halo. Pretty blue dress making the shine of her hair even brighter, cheeks rosy, and her eyes glittering diamonds when they find his and she crashes down next to him. Her scraped knee is proof that it’s too hard, but he can’t help but smile when her cheek touches his arm on the landing.

Something hits the floor with a loud thump.

Yuuta turns over his shoulder to watch. There’s a smaller child that’s chin down on the earth behind them two, thick crocodile tears threatening to spill when Rika gasps. “Rika neechan~ Wait.” You pout, straightening up quicker than you should to reach your hands out to her. The girl hurries over to dust your cheeks off and drag you along behind her. It’s such a nice day out, Yuuta’s sweater is just thick enough to make his entire body warm. He stares at your face a little too long, before glancing between you two.

You’re still rounder than she is, but it’s undeniably eerie. “Your sister?” He asks softly, and Rika grins wide. She gently maneuvers you by the hand to sit next to her, then pulls you into a hug.

Her lips are pretty pink when she licks them. “This is Yuuta. Say ‘hi Yuuta’.” You parrot your sister obediently, as she waves your hand around at him. “Me and Yuuta are going to get married. So you should be very nice to him, okay?” Her sweet cheeks are the exact same as yours, long lashes and big, knowing eyes that always have him staring. You just look absentmindedly at the grass when Rika holds you into her side, but nod.

He smiles softly when your big eyes find his again. And Rika giggles. “And she’s gonna be your sister one day, so you gotta protect her well. We’re gonna be one happy family, promise?” She extends her arm to hold out a pinky finger at him. “That’s what I want.”

+

His fingers are pressing indents into your arm. It’s unusual. Yuuta’s always gentle, he’s soft and cares, but today his hand is screwed almost protectively tight around your upper arm, and you can’t say that you hate the feeling. Maybe childishly, you want him to squeeze even harder - so you’ll have no reason to get out.

You don’t come here a lot. Not since the accident tore open the painful scarred memory of it, but even before then, it wasn’t exactly your favorite place. It’s at Yuuta’s gentle prompting that you even managed to dress, and now walk however slowly between the low stone walls. The rain taps impatiently on the umbrella above, as the older boy casts you a careful glance. Then slowly bends to sit on his ankles, and grabs your hand ever so softly, meeting your eyes. His hands, though big enough to dwarf yours now, are almost velvety when they clasp around yours. It feels like he’s exponentially grown, while you’ve stayed pretty much the same.

Partly the illness. Mostly the age.

“Think you can go on?” he softly asks, kind eyes sympathetically regarding you. Like he’s making a judgment call about whether to turn back after all - debating the long walk back to the hospital. “I’ll be right here with you.”

“You’ve already gone before, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds a bit accusatory, a bit pouty too. Can’t be helped. Yuuta could be a living saint and you’d still find it hard. He clearly doesn’t take it to heart, because he smiles. His one hand then moves up to ruffle your hair.

“It’s still hard for me too, though,” his lips quirk up in an almost smile, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. It’s sort of comforting to know that even someone like him feels it. Of course he would. Your neesan was family, but Yuuta probably knew her better than you ever could. He was beside her when she got out the two times, and was waiting when she had to get re-admitted. He was there when she got hit— there’s a comforting brush of your cheek when he stands back up and the umbrella gets so much higher. Yuuta blinks. “Come. I think you can do it.”

Your chubby cheeks flood with warmth, as you take his fingers into your hands with a nod. “Okay.”

It’s like this that you wind up at the headstone, stepping through dredged earth that’s been walked on too much. It seems to cling to the bottoms of your shoes with intent - you squeeze Yuuta nii’s hand tighter at the sight of the family grave. It now holds three of your kin in a warm embrace under the several bouquets of wilting flowers, and however morbidly, you think that maybe you’ll be joining soon. You’re young, but it’s not lost on you when the nurses send each other pitying looks.

“Is this where neesan’s buried?” Your voice sounds pinched and small, and sort of pathetic. You imagine Yuuta nii cried when he came to the funeral, but he wouldn’t have whined. You’re whining. You don’t want Yuuta to get fed up with you. Not when he’s the last semblance of ‘family’ you have left. After a while of staring blankly at the stone, he nods, and turns over his shoulder to smile at you again, pulling you a little closer to him. Your arms loop around his waist, staring down at the pretty whites that shake under the rain. “Is this where I’ll be buried when I die?”

He freezes. You feel bad about the double take he does when his spine goes more straight, rigid limbs dropping by his side as a deep, uncomfortable breath makes its way out. Your hands wring together instead.

However long it takes for him to unlock his limbs is however long you breathe through your tears as they well up stubbornly along your lash line, before your head is pulled to his ribs into an embrace. He swallows back emotion himself. “That’s not- I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise. I promise.”

“I’m sick-”

“No.” His eyes glint with something silvery when he takes your face between both hands and lets your childishness wash over him, clenching his jaw. “What happened to Rika was an accident- I- I couldn’t do anything then. But nothing’s going to happen to you as long as I’m here. I need- you to believe me.”

You don’t flinch when he uses your cheek to turn your face his way, but the urge still sits. His eyes study your face too intently, like he’s looking for something he can’t quite find. “I promised that I’d be a niichan that protects you.”

Rain splatters into a million glistening flecks as it meets the headstone.

“Okay,” you say.

It isn’t lost on you that his jaw is set too tight as he drags you back by the hand towards his bike, fist clenched around the umbrella. He breathes a tiny, ‘Later, Rika’ before turning on his heel. You don’t manage the same. Your voice gets stuck in your throat, even when he helps you up onto the bike rack in the back, pulling your face into his chest too tight- squeezes you to mold against him. He smells nice for a teen boy. The kiss he leaves on your crown is gentle, and leaves a soft warmth on your skin — You doubt it is really meant for you.

+

The door pushes open as you’re putting clips into your bangs, tongue trapped between your teeth. You cast Yuuta a glance through the mirror when he lingers at the door, and try to smile. “I’m almost ready.” You’re no longer too keen on fighting, the longer the silent treatment drags on. After a while of watching you with his arms crossed over his chest — he walks over to your bed to plop himself down and lets himself fall backward.

“I’m sorry,” the noiret sighs at nothing in particular, as you put on a necklace and after debating for a second, some perfume. The noise makes Yuuta look, studying you when you turn. It’s easy to forget sometimes that Yuuta didn’t have to stay with you, and he sure as hell didn’t have to give up a lot of his youth to take care of you like he does. Like your other family refuses to do when all the cards are on the table. He catches your stare. “You know I love you. I… worry when you’re not right here where I can see you. We stick together.”

“I know.” Your smile only barely makes your lips move, but you do mean it. You just wish realizations like this didn’t always have to come at the cost of fighting. “For what it’s worth, I’ll probably always forgive you.” You try to laugh, and brush your hair out of your eyes a final time before grabbing your bag. “I’m only going to be out for a few hours, max.”

Yuuta frowns when he sits up. His dark hair is brushed out of his face, damp and soft from the shower. “You’re still going?”

You blank. “Yeah, Himari and Shota are waiting for me. We’re going to see a movie.” He only has to let his eyes travel over your body and clothing once, for you to read what he’s thinking. You yank the edge of your skirt a bit lower, and pull your shoulders up. “What, what?! I can’t go out looking like this? It’s basically the same length as my uniform, what’s wrong with that?!”

“I didn’t say anything,” he breathes back, empty eyes regarding you with a static sort of- indifference, you guess.

“You don’t have to, niichan! God!” You turn to walk out the room, but Yuuta grabs your wrist when you pass by the bed. Sat down like he is, eyes tracing you like a lion- Yuuta no longer looks like the boy that used to draw stars on the ceiling of your hospital room for your amusement. Your cheeks heat when he basically glares straight at you for your attitude, and mulls the answer around in his mouth. Your anger subsides as you take a breath. This is the guy who makes you fresh apple juice in the morning, and calls you up between shifts. Because he cares. He just cares.

“Can I please go, Yuuta nii?”

After a few seconds, he clicks his tongue, staring at the edge of your skirt before tugging at it too, barely hiding a frown you can see dig between his brows. “You know I don’t like that Shota kid?”

Your lips jut out. “Yeah…” It’s getting awfully close to time to leave. You take a step back just to get his hands away from you. It’s distracting, and this is your brother you’re dealing with. “But he’s really nice. He started high school already but he used to be in my class the last three years, so… so you don’t have to worry. He knows I can’t do everything because I’m sick and he says—”

“Yeah, I’m sure he says everything you want to hear… You’re smarter than this. You don’t actually believe that.”

“He’s my friend.” A friend that makes your heart beat a bit faster when he smiles at you, but what’s it to him? “He doesn’t lie.”

Yuuta grimaces when you stare him down. “Don’t tell me about teenage boys, I used to be one.” He bristles before sitting up straighter, and though he’s technically below you, you still feel his energy tower as those big, dark eyes stay on your face. “Are you really ‘going to see a movie’? Or are you just going to sit in a boy’s room all night while I’m worried sick-”

You’re about ready to walk out, but his fingers are still looped around your wrist. “We are going to the movies! Himari and I! Just because a boy is there- ugh! Niichan, don’t make it weird!” The heat burns higher on your cheeks when you ball your fists, ignoring the pressure behind your eyes. This is so embarrassing. “I want to go.”

It’s quiet for much too long, making goosebumps appear all over your exposed skin. Then he breathes. “Come here.” His voice has more of an edge than it used to. You used to like the way your name fell from his lips. You’re not so sure you do anymore. Instead of storming out and forgetting all about him, you stare back at the sharpness in his eyes. When he pats his lap with familiarity, you jerk a brow. But you sit. His breath brushes along your neck too softly where he’s seated. It tickles on the way down.

It almost feels like… like he could wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze until you stopped struggling.

Yuuta nii wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.

Fingers come to your necklace, undoing it, and it drops into your lap on the pretty, blue skirt. It’s suddenly much too cold in the room, and you resist the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. It’s fine. You’re fine. Yuuta is family.

Still the untouched skin of your neck feels too exposed.

If he notices your rigid posture, he doesn’t bother fixing it. Just reaches, then pushes your head forward. The childishly familiar pink, bedazzled heart he holds up instead glints, swaying from where you left it on your side table for the night. “You get back at 9,” his lower voice sounds, “or else I’m driving out to wherever you are and dragging you back to my car.” When you don’t say anything in response, he brushes away your hair from your shoulders.

“Yuuta nii,” you start, clamming up when he drapes the dainty thing around your throat and does the closure for you. “I wasn’t going to wear that one tonight.” You don’t always want to wear whatever Rika left behind until infinity.

“I think you will,” he breathes back, and kisses your exposed shoulder. It’s less sweet, more something to punctuate his statement. If he wasn’t so familiar and soft, you’d immediately fight against the way his strong arms wind around your waist to anchor you in his lap. “Just wear it.” His hands stay against your skin, long after he’s finished. Too long, and after seconds of sitting in the tense silence, you jerk up off his lap to grab your discarded bag from the floor. The other necklace drops to the carpet somewhere, but you don’t care.

“Fine,” you bring out tightly, before giving him a last look. Your bottom lip trembles a slight bit, so you suck it into your mouth to make it stop. And tears sting at the corners despite yourself. “Later, then.”

“Tell Himari that niichan says hello. It’s been so long since she’s been here.” He gets up from your bed too, and you resist the urge to rush out the room before him when he steps around you. You can’t fight the feeling that somehow… you were just caught in your lie. Your phone beeps in your bag, as Yuuta nii disappears around the corner. Shota, probably.

+

Blood. The door creaks, swings against the wind.

Dead.

You hope he’s dead. Blood pools at the center of the showers, sinks down the drain too slowly. It sticks to the pretty porcelain tiles of the old school locker room before the water gurgles it down.

They’re dead.

You don’t have to question it before it’s confirmed. Before the heavy, silver cleaver is lodged into the side of the already ruined skull. All of them. All of the boys of the soccer team seem to be present, though you don’t want to try and count. Counting makes it real. This shouldn’t be. The heavy thump makes way for a gross squelch when he yanks the metal out, and keeps the body down with his foot.

The spatters on his face are still wet. You can’t help the way your voice comes out when you breathe in deep and try to keep the tears from spilling over. The cleaver’s red and sticky and so is his hand, up to his forearm, his forehead from wiping his hair away. All of it, ruined.

“Y-yuuta nii?”

The metal door of the locker slams closed with the wind and hits you in the back, sending you skittering forward a few steps before you force the air out of your lungs with a stuttered pant.

With a soft smile, he turns over his shoulder. “Shhh.” The blood’s crusted under his nails when he presses a finger to his lips, then waves you closer. “Help niichan out?” His eyes glint over, before his smile goes a little wider, and he whips the blood off the weapon onto the ground. “S’ your fault I had to do this after all. We can clean up together. Hm?”

Your breathing is so shallow that you can feel your heartbeat in between your ears. You aren’t sure why you nod. The guilt tastes bitter on the way down.

+

Rika was dead on impact. She didn’t have a chance, even after she fought so vehemently against what took your mom. You know that. Even if she didn’t get struck by misfortune then, she might’ve not lived past her teens.

Yuuta doesn’t seem to know. He also doesn't seem to consider the same for you either— letting you toy with the edge of his shirt where you’re curled into him in your too-small bed. The hospital wants you back for another check-up.

It’s true that you’ve already outlived your sister, but that doesn’t mean it’ll last forever. Yuuta nii doesn’t want to hear it. As he brushes your hair with his fingers, you scratch the arm where the IV’s always get attached with an absent minded pout. Until Yuuta notices, pouting down at you. “Are you still feeling dizzy? I can make you some green tea if you’ll let go of me for a few minutes. Lots of honey like you like.” You quickly shake your head.

To him this is final, the worst you’ll ever get, and in reality that’s probably not the case. You don’t tell him though. His deep eyes stay on you a little too long. “What’s wrong?”

Sometimes you wake up and can’t open your eyes past a blurry sliver, your head tight enough to make your skull feel like it’s caving in. Times where you have to clasp your stomach painfully tight to hold yourself together — stumbling in tears into Yuuta’s room. Like you’ll disintegrate in his arms unless you lock him around yourself. This isn’t as bad, but you still feel bad.

Feverish and cold all at once, achy where your stomach goes up and down. You can’t mention the possibility of having to go back into urgent care without aniiki spiraling, so you keep your mouth shut. “I don’t like green tea,” you guiltily admit instead, and stare up at him when he holds a few knuckles to your head, studying you.

His expression scrutinizes you a little tighter, before he pets over your crown. He presses a soft kiss onto your lips. It’s Rika that loved it, you want to say, but for some reason you can’t make the words come out. He sighs, slightly put out, but then nods. “If you’re feeling better later, maybe you can help Yuuta nii with the curry. Okay?”

“Mhm,” you smile up at him, and you can see how the muscles in his jaw unclench.

His soft hands cup your face intently, staring down at you too intently. It starts sweet, until the feeling of his breath dust over your face and you watch as he flicks his eyes all over you. “You look so much like her. I can tell now that you’re getting older though,” his thumb smoothes over your soft cheek. “We should see if there’s something in Rika’s stuff you can still wear.”

“Won’t be able to fit it anymore, niichan.” Your voice comes out apologetic, though you don’t know why.

“Hm. You might be right.” His look goes more distant before he pulls you closer. Legs tangled, arms loosely looped around you. “You’re still smaller than me though. Luckily.” He takes a deep breath, before nuzzling his nose into your crown to breathe long and deep. His warm hands trail over yours before squeezing. “I love you, you know that? Always will.”

You stare at the wall of mementos past Yuuta’s shoulder. Suffocatingly cram packed. Her pictures. Her music poster. Her pre-teen bottle of perfume you wear only on special occasions. Your hands stop toying with the edge of his shirt to brush instead along his forearm until you meet something that isn’t skin. Yuuta’s quiet, but his breathing is slightly pinched— you don’t mean to.

You glance between you two to the plastic your finger hooks onto. The bracelet she made in the hospital care ward for Yuuta that he still wears despite the fact that the color has long peeled off of the cheap beads. “You loved neesan, right?” Your lashes almost brush when you look back at him, watch him trap his tongue between his teeth for a moment as pink sits on his cheeks. His hand wraps around yours to tangle fingers.

“I… did.”

He swallows. “She made the hospital seem a little less lonely.” The mementos seem to stare at you from across the room as he speaks, and the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach refuses to fade. If anything, it gets more painful. Tighter. “We’re going to be together forever though. And I,” he squeezes your hand, voice fading to barely a whisper, “I love you. Love you so much.”

There's a cold slid over your fingers when he moves. You allow him to slip off the band, gently, and almost as if he wants to give it to you without you noticing, his fingers slide the cursed thing onto your hand instead. His smile is gentle, makes those dark eyes look a little less pressing. “When you’re cleared from going back to the hospital, we can find me a matching one. We still have to get married, right?”

The room feels cold.

“... Okay.”

+

“Let’s kiss?”

It’s too late to be early when the shared bed gets crowded over on your side. “St- I’m going to sleep, Yuuta nii. Stop.” You don’t open your eyes to the touch, definitely not to the gentle brush of his fingers over your lips when he gets too close. Always too close- it’s suffocating. “I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Don’t be like that.” He sounds happy. He always sounds like that when it has to do with you, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to flutter open when the thumb instead pushes into your mouth. “If we get married, this will be normal. Don’t pull back.” He pushes onto your tongue to make you hold it in your mouth all heavy and tasting of him, then leans in to push his forehead to yours. Deep, possessive eyes pinning you in place.

“You don’t want to?” It almost sounds mocking. You know you brought this on yourself. You asked to go home early, you asked to invite friends. Maybe this is payback the way big brothers give it. There’s tears that spring up anyway when his other hand slips under your shirt and he squeezes your soft belly. As the spit he wipes on your lips gets kissed away by an impatient sigh. “I’ve wanted to for such a long time. You wouldn’t ask me to wait more.”

“Yuuta nii. We’re siblings, aren’t we?” The ring glitters. Your hand is clenched into the front of his shirt as warm hands grab down your body— hands you love. Hands you trusted.

“Of course we are. That’s why I’m doing this, silly girl.” Hands that push your underwear down your round hips despite you fighting to keep them up. He giggles when you burn with embarrassment, before pressing kisses to your temple. “I love you. I love you, I love you. Who better to kiss you than big brother?” You shake your head, try to push- he doesn’t budge. Just keeps your body in place under his with his weight.

“G-get off of me, Yuuta! Stop being so weird!” You cry, pushing until he grabs your wrist and forces it down beside your head. He’s still smiling though, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Like you’re still a child acting out. It’s that which makes you squirm more, and the glare digs into your forehead when he gets on top of you. “Stop~ I don’t want to kiss.”

Instead he laces his fingers with your ring hand, as the other patiently flutters down to rub over your pussy. You don’t want to. You don’t. Yuuta just smiles when he tilts his head to regard you, and squeezes your fingers a little tighter. “Rika-chan asked me to take care of you. Don’t get so mad.”

+

It’s getting cooler and cooler and cooler the longer he stands. Pressed in the corner of the sterile, greenish blue atmosphere with white sheets draped over your body. He takes a long, deep breath until the nurse finishes up with the checks, taking freshly drawn blood away in a vial. “You’re the guardian?”

The red stands out against your complexion as your restless sleep drifts deeper— he shifts in his seat to lace his hands together. “Her big brother, yes.”

She doesn’t bother to pretend to care when tapping her clipboard, gives a distracted smile. “The doctor will be here within the next hour, okay? Please wait here until then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Yuuta’s quick not to let the smile quirk up onto his mouth when she’s already walking out before he finishes. As soon as the door falls into lock he gets up from the uncomfortable chair to kneel by your bedside and grasp your hand.

Soft. Small.

He hates to admit that he could spend hours here by your side; but the truth is the truth. He could, and he has. And he will, until it is no longer necessary.

Yuuta kisses your hand with a gentle smile, feeling your heartbeat thump under his lips. You mumble, he swears he can hear his name. “I’m here. Niichan’s here.” He smiles a little more when the soft fingers wrap back around his hand and he watches your expression relax even in your sleep. He can’t help it, the soft thumping against his cheek makes his entire body warm.

You’re so alive, and so close- every cell in his body yearns to be beside you. He kisses the area between your thumb and pointer in an attempt to soothe the feeling of biting down entirely. Instead he clasps your hand with two of his before standing up. “You would have loved Rika.” His mouth tingles. “She would’ve hated you- but you would have loved her. I think she would have been a bit jealous though.”

He dips to press a soft kiss onto your lips, humming softly when your warm breath dusts over his cheeks. “You’re so cute.” A few years ago, you would’ve had visitors waiting for you. “I know you were looking forward to graduation, but I’m still here for you.” He places his hands on both sides of your face to hover over you instead of pulling back, can’t keep himself from it.

“You don’t want to leave your niichan, right?” It’s not your fault that everyone else wants you to move on. He’ll take you just as you are. He has to force himself to pull back before he kisses you again, so you don’t wake just yet. You will. And you’ll cry into his chest about missing your precious graduation, and about being stuck here again, just when you were getting better. He never much wanted you in uni anyway.

From his space sat on the edge of your bed, he can easily see how the blanket squirms. How the motion curls and wiggles until he easily pulls the sheet down your chest, then your stomach.

Two beady eyes stare up at him as he brings his face a little closer. The fly head is still clinging to your stomach, hasn’t moved from where he left it. By now it’s become an accessory every few months. It’s not strong enough to kill you— just barely enough to keep you believing you’re still sick, and that’s all he really needs. You need his care, need him. He resists the urge to pick the thing up at least until he can take you back home.

Instead he nudges it up a little higher, so he can place his palm onto your belly to stroke gentle circles in its place, feeling the heat through the gown. He can feel your heart bounce all the way down your body, it’s so cute. When the little fodder curse crawls onto your chest, lids shooting open as you gasp. “Yuuta nii-” Your eyes are lined red, and as soon as they find him you start bawling.

More than happy to let him hike you up from the bed and into his arms, where you bury your face into his neck. Your hiccups are so cute. It’s easy to kiss them quiet when you don’t have enough breath to ask him to stop. He’s sure this time he could slip his tongue into your mouth and you wouldn’t say a thing.

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[chrissturnsfav]

but the way rapper!chris would fuck singer!reader after they haven’t seen each other in a while…

⋆.˚✮ rapper!chris can't stand being away from singer!reader for an extended period of time

you step out of the car, the gentle hum of the engine fading into the quiet of the night.

the cool air nips at your skin as you pull your hood over your head, but it doesn't matter—you're finally back in LA. after weeks of traveling city to city, performing in packed venues, and living out of suitcases, all you can think about is chris.

you push open the front door of his big house quietly, the familiar creak of the hinges echoing in the stillness of the house. it's late, around midnight, so you assume his assistants along with nick and matt have gone to bed.

upstairs, the dim light from the wide hallway stretches ahead, leading you to where you know he’ll be.

when you reach chris' room, your heart pounding with anticipation in your chest, you push the door open, and there he is—sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his head snapping up the moment you enter.

he doesn’t say a word at first, just stares at you like he’s trying to memorize every detail. his eyes burn with something primal, something that makes your breath hitch.

"i told you i’d come straight to you," you say, smiling softly.

before you can take another step, chris is on his feet, crossing the space between you in a heartbeat. his hands cup your face, his lips crashing onto yours in a kiss so desperate, so consuming, it leaves you gasping. his body presses against yours, backing you against the door, his heat overwhelming, his scent intoxicating.

"chris," you manage to breathe, your fingers tangling in his hair as his lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking in a way that sends sparks of arousal shooting through your veins.

chris doesn’t let up, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that’s almost feral. he lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to his bed and laying you down with a gentleness that contrasts the intensity in his eyes.

"fuck," he mumbles against your smooth skin, his voice thick and raw as he climbs over you, his lips capturing yours again. "missed ya so much, ma, need ya bad," he mumbles thickly against your plush lips.

just moments later, chris has got you in a squished mating press, his nails digging into the undersides of your thighs as he pushes them further against your shoulders. he's moving at an erratic pace, the headboard of his bed slamming against the wall with each rough thrust he gives you as you wail loudly.

"fuck i missed her," he grunts, looking down at his cock driving into your sweet warmth. "look at her, ma," he grips your chin, flitting your lidded eyes to look down at your pussy gleaming with your slick, "she missed me too, didn't she?"

you pant breathlessly, unable to focus on anything in your foggy mind except for the intensifying ecstasy that makes your thighs twitch in his grip. all you can do is nod, too fucked out to even form words through your whines.

chris pounds into you even faster, deeper, moving one of his hands to press down on the bulge appearing in and out of your stomach as he grunts, "just like that, yeah? so fuckin' tight, feels perfect."

"chris," you manage to moan out, barely coherent through your open mouth, eyes rolled to the back of your head.

"c'mon, give it to me," he groans, beginning to rub tight, quick circles on your puffy clit, earning a sharp gasp from you as that familiar knot forms in your belly that you haven't felt in weeks. "wanna see ya fall apart f'me, baby, wanna see you cum on this dick."

with that, your body shakes, your spongy walls spasming around his cock along with a loud wail, your nails digging into his back. the jolts of pleasure leave you panting, whimpering as you open your eyes to blurry vision, taking in the sight of his face.

chris grunts deeply, a dark and dry chuckle leaving his lips as he watches your fucked out expression, "mhmmm, there it is, gooood girl," he growls, his own high catching up to him as he thrusts into you even harder.

thank you for reading! <3

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses

@chrissturnsfav ™

[parkersbliss]

the 141 and their obsessed girlfriend

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x female reader 

synopsis: you love your boyfriend, maybe a little too much that some of the things you say are... concerning to say the least.

warnings: kind of gory for simon, sexual innuendo, death threat, reader is just unhinged and in love with her man fr

a/n: if you get it, you get it. these all may or may nOT be things I've said to my boyfriend to which he said I was "batshit crazy but in a sexy way"

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

—

Ghost:

You sigh, laying your head down on Simon’s chest. His reaction is instinctive, an arm wrapping around you and pulling you closer. You snuggle further into him, his warmth radiating onto your skin. A reminder to you of where your home truly was. 

You can hear his heartbeat in his chest, pumping at a steady pace. You count each thump, rhythmic and soft. Faintly, you hear the sound of air moving in and out of his lungs and the slight bubbling of his stomach from the food you had eaten earlier. 

Simon’s hand strokes your lower back, drawing circles as his eyes focus on the rugby match. He’s unaware of his actions, something he’s too used to when he lies with you. He likes feeling the warmth, the subtle pulse, and shivers. It’s a reminder that you’re real. 

You’re too lost in his heartbeat to hear the narration of the game. There was something so comforting to listen to him, affirming what you knew was true. Your boyfriend was alive, his heart circulating the blood through his body. You push yourself further into his chest, wanting to be closer. You couldn’t get any closer, you knew that, but you needed to be. There was some part of you that kept urging for it. 

“Simon,” You call out. 

He looks down at you. “Hm?”

You meet his eyes. “I want to cut through your skin, open your ribcage, and feel your heart.” You said it casually, not faltering and maintaining eye contact with him. You needed to crawl into his chest and live there, be one with him. Closer. 

Simon doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink at your words. “I’d want nothing more than to have you cradle my heart in your hands.” 

You move to straddle him, resting your legs on either side of his hips and leaning your chin on his sternum so you can really look at him. “You don’t think��I’m crazy?”

He scoffs. “Quite the opposite.”

“Even if I want to live inside your chest?”

“If I could make that happen, I would.” He runs a hand through your hair, tugging gently at the knots. 

You smile at him. “I’d let you live in mine and use my lungs as your personal trampoline.” 

Simon chuckles a beautiful sound to you and lets his hand rest on your hips. “I would be honored.” 

You trace patterns on his chest, huffing. “I just want to live in you.” 

“Unfortunately, you’ll just have to settle for my dick in you.”

You purse your lips from on top of him. “I guess that’ll do.”

Gaz:

You set your phone on the bedside table, lying on your side to look at your boyfriend. He was shirtless, with nothing but his briefs on in bed. Your eyes trace up and down him, taking in all the curves of his muscles and the lines of his abs to the slight stubble of a beard and the downward slope of his nose. God, he was so pretty. 

As if on cue, he turns to look at you. “What?” He murmurs in that voice of his. Kind, but a hint of grit to it. He made it so easy for your thoughts to run wild. You wanted to have his kids. See his eyes in them, the curve of his nose. Actually, scratch that you wanted—“I wanna get you pregnant,” You blurt out. 

Kyle laughs, loud. He isn’t sure he quite heard you correctly. He hopes he did, but then again, you did have a knack for breaking silence with something worth talking about. “What?” 

“I wanna get you pregnant,” You repeat. 

He stills, staring at you and how your face is unwavering. He’s not quite sure what to make of that sentence. He stares at you, your lips pursed in thought and eyes sparkling with a bit of mischief. “That’s simply not possible.” 

“I know,” You said. “But I just want to be able to like fuck you for once.” 

“Oh my god.” 

You shake your head, suddenly aware of how unhinged you sound. But that’s just what Kyle did to you. You were downright obsessed with him. Everything about him made your thoughts melt into a pile of mush and goo. One look at him had you practically reeling. You couldn’t fathom how he was real and yours, nonetheless. “Sorry! You’re just so fucking pretty and it’s like I need to bend you ov—,” 

“Babe,” He cuts you off. “Okay! I get it.” 

“No, but like—,"

He raises his brows at you. “It’s not biologically possible.” He restates, emphasizing that he was not letting that happen and neither was the world. Thank god, he thinks. 

You flop down onto your back on the bed with a groan. “So unfair. We should be like seahorses.” 

Kyle hums, choosing to humor you. “Uh-huh, sorry babe.” 

“I’m just so obsessed with you. I have so many feelings I just… I don’t know what to do with it.” 

Kyle’s hand traces up and down your arm. “Well, we could start with not getting me pregnant.” He moves to situate himself on top of you, pressing his nose into your neck. “But maybe there’s a compromise here, hm?” He kisses the soft skin, and once again, your brain melts into nothing. He was so good to you. He made it easy for you to forget everything in the world but his name on your tongue. So you couldn’t get him pregnant. There was a better idea ahead. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Soap: 

You sat at the table next to Johnny, coffee in hand. You both sit in silence, observing the people passing by on the street. You make note of a man frantically texting on his phone, a little girl chasing after a bird, a couple clinging on to each other. 

People watching. A favorite pastime for the two of you. 

You watch as a girl walks by, her gaze lingering on your boyfriend a second longer than you’d like. Her eyes rake up and down his figure, and she pulls out her phone, no doubt texting someone. 

You turn to Johnny, who’s oblivious to it. “I’m going to fucking kill her.”

His head snaps towards you. “What, love?” 

“That girl,” You gesture with your head. “I’m going to kill her.” 

“Why?” 

“She looked at you.” 

Your boyfriend nearly spits out his coffee. “So you’re gonna kill her?” 

You glare at him. “That’s merciful.” 

“Oh really?” He jests you. 

You nod your head, setting down your coffee and pulling out your phone. “If I really wanted to fuck with her, then I could find her home address and slightly misplace all the objects in her flat and watch her go insane.”

Johnny stares at you, concern etched into his face. His eyes sweep your face for any ounce of joke, but he knows you’renot. He always wanted a possessive girlfriend. “You’re crazy.” 

“Crazy about you,” You correct. “If I ever see anyone look at you like that again, I’m going to call an airstrike on them.” 

He grabs your hands. “Love, you never have to worry about anyone else.”

“I don’t worry. They should worry. If they wanna stare, then they can stare at the ceiling before I gouge their eyes out.” 

Johnny sighs. He loves you, truly. But to say you weren’t sometimes a little unhinged was an understatement. You always had a jealous streak about you, it’s what initially drew him in. That fire he saw in your eyes, dangerous but beckoning him closer. The idea of a possessive girlfriend really did turn him on. It was just moments like these that he wished he could carry around a giant sign that said “Please don’t look at me unless you wanna die.” 

“You’re something else, you know?” He asked, running his thumb over your knuckles. 

You melt a little at the gesture, and he can see your shoulders relax. “You’re mine.” 

He presses a quick kiss to your lips. “True, and you never have to do that. So please stop threatening random people on the street in public.” 

You smile at him. He was so sweet. “You’ll never find a bitch crazier than me, baby.” 

“I never want to,” Johnny insists. “Though, you can show me crazy in a different way…” 

You can see his eyes sparkling with something and you bite your lip, grabbing his hands. “Let’s go home.” 

Price:

You’re sat next to Price on the couch. He’s got a hand slung over your shoulder, keeping you close as you lean your head into the crook of his neck. He was warm, a giant teddy bear covered in rippling muscles. His beard scratches the top of your head, but it’s not uncomfortable. In fact, you love the feeling of it when you’re kissing. The soft pinch of his hair against your face. 

But honestly, you loved everything about him. There wasn’t one thing about him you could dislike. Well, maybe that he was gone so long sometimes. In reality, it just made you want him more though. It created special moments like this, where you knew time was futile. 

You sigh, playing with the hairs of his beard. You feel like them against your fingertips, pinching and prodding. 

You gaze up at your husband, his blue eyes focused on the screen and dark lashes contrasting with his pale skin. 

“Honey,” You murmur.

He hums, looking down at you. “Yes?” 

You cock your head at him. “I want to take your beard hair and make it into matching sweaters for us.” 

Price, unfazed by most things, is fazed by this. He could take a bullet, and wouldn’t flinch at a grenade or a gun pointed at his face. But that. 

That was a sentence he wasn’t sure how to unpack. 

“What?” He asked. 

You giggle a little. “You know, the clippings in the bathroom. What if I started collecting them to make a sweater?” 

Price nods, humoring you. “Darling, please don’t do that.” 

“Why not?” You pout, sticking out your bottom limit. 

“That would be itchy,” He insists. “My beard is already itchy enough. You don’t want to wear it too.” 

You don’t, he’s right. You just wanted to say something to see his face contort. He was so comfortable around you that it made it easy to catch him off guard. And really, a part of you was that obsessed with him. 

“Fair point, I suppose,” You concede. 

He’s surprised you surrender so easily. “You don’t already have a collection going, do you?” 

You laugh, patting his chest. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

He pauses. “No, I would not.” You snuggle closer to him, going back to playing with his beard. His arm drops to your waist, giving it a squeeze. “You’re insane, my dear.” 

You grin up at him, planting a kiss on his lips. “In more ways than one.” 

Price kisses you back, sneaking his hands under your shirt and higher. “Amen.” 

He was never religious, but that man did get on his knees for you.

-- END --

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🏷 taglist: @trxpslxt @looking1016 @the-kakawshi-bird

[fazedlight]

Kiss (post-canon fluff)

Fuck.

What was I thinking?

Lena stood frozen at her door, continuing to mentally curse herself, as a wide-eyed Kara stared back.

It had been a fun evening. The pair had cooked dinner together, curled up on the couch to watch a movie together, cleaned up together. Kara had teasingly splashed dish bubbles in Lena’s direction, with Lena taking the sink sprayer for a quick revenge. It was playful and domestic and everything Lena longed for. 

Well, almost everything.

That cozy and domestic warmth filled her chest, and she hadn’t really been thinking as Kara had hugged her before heading out for the night. Lena had simply operated on instinct, pressing a small kiss to Kara’s cheek.

Which led to their current predicament, staring at each other in wide-eyed shock. Friends do that sometimes, right?, Lena thought desperately, praying she would melt into the floor.

But she waited under Kara’s curious gaze, blue eyes darting between hers in silence. “Sorry,” Lena began to whisper-

But Kara leaned forward… placing her own kiss on Lena’s cheek, causing Lena to stiffen in yet another layer of surprise. “Good night, Lena,” Kara said, lingering for a moment as Lena’s heart fluttered.

Kara finally pulled away, leaving Lena wondering what did it mean? “Good night,” Lena replied.

---

They said nothing.

Monday brought its own aggravations as Lena met with a few investors for dinner. She put on the normal smile and dance, speaking decisively of profit margins and dividends, until the night was finally done. The investors filtered their way back to a nearby hotel, and Lena stepped outside for solitude and fresh air - pausing to take in the pleasant evening before calling Hector to drive her back to her condo.

“Walk you home?” came the familiar voice.

Lena turned, smiling as she noticed Kara a few steps away, holding her sneakers. “I’d love to,” Lena said, trading off her heels for the far more comfortable shoes. After a moment, the two began to make their way down the quiet sidewalk.

“I can’t wait until I stop doing this,” Lena said, “I’m ready to be done being CEO.”

“When does Andrea start?” Kara asked.

“Next week,” Lena said, “She’s in Metropolis, meeting with Sam to discuss the finances.”

Kara hummed approvingly. “I’m glad you get to focus on the engineering side again.”

Lena smiled, lightly jabbing Kara’s side. “How about you? How’s being a new Editor-in-Chief treating you?”

“Cat hasn’t changed,” Kara grinned widely, and Lena cast back a knowing look. But Kara’s face softened as she glanced ahead. “Though I realized I sort of have.”

“How so?” Lena asked.

Kara bit at her lip. “It’s harder to pretend to be things I’m not.”

Lena tilted her head in curiosity, but she didn’t press, content to walk arm-in-arm down the street with the contemplative blonde. Kara would say more when she was ready, and Lena was happy to wait.

They eventually came to her building, and then her door. Lena turned around to face the blonde. “Do you want to come in?” Lena said.

To her surprise, Kara shook her head. “I have some thinking to do.”

Lena nodded, but she was surprised when Kara tilted her head forward, eyeing the Luthor for a reaction, asking a silent question. Lena’s gaze was curious - she wondered if Kara was listening to her heartbeat - but she remained steady, shyly granting the permission Kara sought.

Kara pressed a soft kiss to Lena’s cheek. “Good night, Lena.”

Lena could feel herself flush, reaching up with a shaking hand to cup Kara’s face. She leaned to the side, pressing a kiss against Kara’s opposite cheek. “Good night, Kara.”

When she made it to the other side of her door - hearing Kara’s footsteps fade down the hall - she found herself wondering. Is this friendship for her?, Lena thought, mulling over whether the kryptonian knew how unusual their behavior was.

Was it a hint that Kara had developed deeper feelings?

Or would Kara be disconcerted to know that Lena wanted more?

---

LCorp was chaos - in the normal way that any company was with a CEO handoff - and the week passed by in a blur as a result. But Andrea was no rookie, and Lena trusted her enough to start handling the business solo.

Finally.

Lena entered the Tower that Saturday morning with a buzz in her veins. LCorp would certainly have interesting science to tinker with, but magic was still only something Lena could experiment with here. 

She opened her mother’s grimoire, poring over the ancient volume, tapping at a 31st century quantum collider that Brainy had set up in the lab. Magic has to be a form of quantum mechanics, she thought.

Hours went by as she worked. She almost didn’t notice the patter of steps behind her, but she knew who it was. “Kara,” she said, turning to smile at the blonde who brought Chinese takeout in her wake.

“You have to be hungry,” Kara said.

“I didn’t notice,” Lena replied.

The two moved over to a neighboring table, unpacking the food, passing chopsticks and soy sauce before digging in. In a way, it felt like any normal Saturday where they weren’t out saving the world.

But in another way, it didn’t.

Kara seemed almost shy throughout the meal, even as they were cleaning up, even as they made their way to the Tower couches after Lena kicked off another experiment. Something was hesitant in her stance, a small reluctance in meeting Lena’s eyes. Maybe she does feel weird about us, Lena thought, feeling a tenseness in her gut in response.

Before they reached the couches, Kara stopped in her tracks.

“Kara?”

She heard a sigh in front of her. “I can’t pretend anymore,” Kara said.

“Pretend…?”

Kara turned to face Lena, swallowing, eyes darting between her own. The look on her face made Lena’s heart pound uncomfortably in her chest, both wary and impatient for what came next.

But she didn’t have to wait long. “I’m in love with you,” Kara said, “I can’t pretend I’m not.”

Lena’s eyes went wide.

“Nothing has to change,” Kara continued, “But I need you to know how I feel when I’m with you.”

Oh, Lena thought, taking a step closer to Kara, so she did realize.

Lena’s hand fluttered up to Kara’s face, cupping the blonde’s cheek as she tensed. Kara’s eyes darted curiously between Lena’s.

Lena smiled softly, drawing a slow smile from Kara’s lips, before Lena tilted up on her toes - pressing a kiss to Kara’s cheek.

Kara responded in kind, wrapping her arms around Lena’s waist, bringing her lips to Lena’s cheek in return. “I’ve been in love with you for years,” Lena murmured, as she felt the small puff of breath against her neck before Kara tilted her head back.

“I wondered if this was all in my head,” Kara confessed.

“I wondered if you didn’t realize that this was…”

“Unusual?” Kara laughed.

“Yeah,” Lena grinned. Kara smiled back, and Lena felt her heart swell in the warmth in Kara’s eyes.

“I’d like to kiss you for real now,” Kara said softly.

Lena tilted her head in welcome, as Kara leaned forward.

And finally, their lips met.

[jinhyun]

—one touch.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: fluff, pining, non-idol au, best friend’s brother au

word count: 3.5k

summary: when simply flirting wasn’t enough for you to notice that hyunjin was hitting on you, he knew he needed to move on to some physical contact for you to realise. unfortunately for him, the first touch ended up being way harder to achieve than he had intended.

author’s note: it’s hereeee! of course i needed to write how everything went down for hyunie trying to initiate physical contact with y/n :’) it might’ve been hard at first but thankfully he pulled through lol. i hope you guys enjoy! and as always i would love to read your opinions on it<3

“If I said I was craving hotteok right now,” your voice caught Hyunjin’s attention, making his eyes travel from the TV in front towards you next to him in a heartbeat. “Would you go buy some with me?”

He smiled, shaking his head in amusement. “Do I even have another option? Like, what else am I supposed to do? Wait here for you to come back?”

“I mean, you could…” you agreed.

“As if I’d let you go out alone at night”.

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” you pointed out with a shrug of shoulders. “There’s this stall a couple of streets from here, I won’t take long. Although I guess there is also the chance for you to talk me out of it and just stay here”.

“Nah, you already made me crave hotteok as well now” he sighed, throwing a playful glare at you, which could only have you chuckling the next second. “Let’s put everything away and we can go”.

Agreeing with his small condition, you began to grab the cutlery you’d been using minutes ago, while Hyunjin shoved the empty takeaway boxes into the bags they’d come in, in order to clear the coffee table that had been serving you both as a dining one.

Hyunjin followed right behind you when you made your way to the kitchen, leaving the bags on the counter as you told him to, and then just leaning against it while he stared at you quietly —and rather quickly— washing the dirty dishes.

He couldn’t help his eyes from focusing on your mouth, admiring it for longer than it’d be considered normal, before they travelled down to your waist. Just like him, you’d decided to wear something on the lighter end inside your place, given that the heater was on and, up until then, you had no intentions of going out that night. A white t-shirt had been your go-to that evening, and although it was quite loose, he could still see the curve of your waist under the fabric.

Touch her. Jisung’s words popped up in his head for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Hand on her back when you pass her by.

Hyunjin’s eyes went to the already dried dishes he supposed you’d washed earlier that day and forgot to put away. If he offered to put them away right then, he’d have to go behind you to get to them, and since your kitchen wasn’t the most spacious one, he guessed he could gently place his hand on your waist to make his way over there without it being suspicious.

It would seem natural. You probably wouldn’t even notice.

It wasn’t that big of a deal anyway, right? He had touched you before. Like at new year’s eve when he placed his hands on your shoulders to guide you through the crowd, or when you fell asleep together on your couch and ended up cuddling. You didn���t protest when it came to the first —had you even noticed he was touching you back then?—, and with the latter you had explicitly told him it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable.

No, of course touching you wasn’t a big deal. But then why the hell couldn’t he bring himself to move?

It had been like this ever since he stepped a foot inside your place earlier that evening. It was his first time seeing you in person since Han planted the idea in his head, and he couldn’t help but take too long overthinking every single chance he’d get to have some physical contact with you, to the point of self-sabotage.

Just like it happened now, because before he could even get away from the counter, you were done washing the dishes and guiding him towards the entrance to your place, so you could put your shoes on and get ready to head out.

When Han brought the idea of having some physical contact with you, Hyunjin didn’t think it would be this hard, not when he had touched you a few times before. But there was a difference between all those previous times and now: the purpose of his touch.

Before, he’d seldom touch you just to feel you close, because he felt the need to and it just felt right, natural. They were all very casual little touches that anyone else could try without it meaning anything. Unlike now, that he needed them to be more frequent, and for you to be able to tell them apart from just a friendly touch.

Now, it was to send a message — the one of him being into you.

Now, he wanted you to question his touch, and although it was a very fine line when it came to both purposes, what was at stake for the second one was so much more. Because what he wanted was for you to take a hint at his feelings for you, and, even though there was a chance for you to accept them and allow yourself to try and fall for him as well, there was also a chance for you to turn him down without a second thought. And it was your rejection what terrified him the most.

By the time you made it out of your building, he was already growing frustrated, not to say hopeless.

Not even the snowdrops that started to fall the next minute could cheer him up, for the moment his eyes travelled down to your hands and then to the slippery floor, making a lightbulb light up in his head to reach for your hand and pull you closer, with the excuse of preventing you from slipping over on the icy sidewalk, you were already shoving your hands inside your pockets to keep them warm.

Still, he did the next best thing he could think of: walk closer to you, causing the fabric covering your arms to rub against each other with every step you took. Just in order to get some body warmth, and to stay close enough to you in case the sidewalk did become too slippery at some point. You didn’t seem to mind, after all.

Truth was, flirting with you was so much easier through texts, for he didn’t have those pretty eyes of yours staring into his soul and making his knees go weak before he could utter a single word out. And touching you was so much easier when he didn’t think of the romantic implications that came with it; not because he didn’t want there to be any romantic implications —fuck, he wanted nothing but for it to be romantic—, but because he could only then make it seem natural and not overthink the possibility of you turning him down.

One touch was all he needed. One simple first touch, to test the waters and figure out whether he could do it again without feeling like his heart would rip out of his chest any minute at the thought of you pulling away.

“I think I’m just going for the OG this time,” your voice brought him back to reality. “But they also have red beans and cheese, I think”.

“Huh?”

“Hotteok? The filling?” You clarified with a teasing smile, motioning with your head towards the stall that was now only a couple of meters away on the street. “Earth to Hyunjin?”

“Ah, yes… sorry” he apologized, feeling his cheeks begin to heat up — and then straight up burn when you looped your arm through his to pull him towards the hotteok stall.

You made it seem so easy. Was it really that easy? Just grab his arm in yours and go? Like his heart wasn’t going wild over that simple little contact you initiated?

“Hello~” you sweetly greeted the old woman once you reached the stall, earning a gentle smile from her and a very loving one from Hyunjin. “We’ll be having an original one and…” your eyes travelled up to Hyunjin, realising he hadn’t told you what he was having before. “Hyunie?”

“A traditional one and a red bean one, please” he completed your previous sentence.

With a nod of her head, the lady in front grabbed two cups to place your orders in.

“Red bean?” You scrunched up your nose.

He scoffed. “Am I really being judged by the carrot cake girl right now?”

“Not judging” you denied; much to his disappointment, removing your arm from around his so you could hold both your hands up in surrender. “Just saying… choosing red beans when the original one exists is just…”

“Here you go~” the lady announced, handing you both your orders.

“Oh, thank you” you received Hyunjin’s first, handing it to him before you turned back to her to grab yours and hand her the money. “Be careful, they’re hot”.

He smiled at your warning, watching you blow on the hot pastry for a few seconds before you took a bite and he did the same.

“What?” You asked when you could no longer ignore the smile he was staring at you with.

“Nothing,” he shook his head, still with a smile adorning his lips. “You’re cute”.

“Must be the snow giving me some kind of angelic look” you playfully batted your eyelashes for him.

“No,” he denied once again. “If anything it makes you look cuter, but you already look cute all the time”.

The sudden shy look in your eyes with a mixture of adoration in them as you silently stared at him, reminded him why it was easier to flirt through texts. Still, he loved getting to see your reaction after he did. He wanted to believe you were flustered enough to realise he wasn’t saying it as a friend.

“Your cuteness won’t save you from trying the red bean hotteok, though” he added when you wouldn’t reply anymore.

Your protesting whine sounded like music to his ears. “I’ve tried it before though?”

“When?” He pushed it.

“Like… I don’t know, two years ago?”

“If you made me try carrot cake years after my first impression of it, then so are you trying this one again”.

“Ugh, do I have to?”

“I’m afraid you have to” he taunted with a pout, bringing his hotteok up to your mouth. “Now open up”.

Glaring at him, yet knowing well enough there was no escaping from it, you opened your mouth as told and took a bite of it.

“You call that a bite?” He called you out, this time earning a small laugh from you as you chewed the small piece you took. “You didn’t even get any of the filling!”

“Yes, I did?!”

“No, you didn’t, Pinocchio”.

“Hyunie…” you pouted.

“Nope, being cute won’t help you out of it”.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you grabbed the cup of the pastry he was still holding up for you and brought it once again up to your mouth, this time taking what he considered to be a decent bite of it.

Looking down to it and seeing that you had gotten some of the filling this time, he smiled. “So?”

You rolled your eyes at the teasing look in his face, rushing to swallow it down so you could give him your final verdict. “Okay, maybe it is better than I remembered…”

“See?!”

“Still wouldn’t choose it over the traditional one, though”.

“It’s a nice change from time to time” he nodded to himself, taking another bite.

“You wanna try this one, though?” You offered, bringing yours up to his mouth just as he swallowed.

Hyunjin nodded effusively, opening his mouth for you to feed him. Laughing at his cute antics, you brought your hotteok even higher up, for it to go inside his mouth.

“Aigoo, what an adorable couple you two are”.

Only then, right as he bit into your pastry, you were both reminded of the fact that you were still standing in front of the hotteok stall, acting like that in front of a very oblivious woman who mistook the whole scene going on before her for a romantic one.

Thank God it was snowing and there was no one else in line appreciating the whole thing.

Your cheeks burned in an instant, looking at Hyunjin next to you rushing to swallow before you focused back on her. “Oh, we—”

“Thank you, ma’am” Hyunjin interrupted you before you could finish your rather panicked sentence, making your head snap in his direction in surprise, right as he gently leaned towards you. “Isn’t she the prettiest?”

When the woman agreed with him and commented on how good-looking the two of you were, he saw his hundredth chance that night and finally took it before it was too late, reaching for your hand and intertwining your fingers, just like he had wanted to minutes ago.

He almost laughed at himself right then. All night he had spent figuring out how to touch you in the subtlest of ways, looking for the spots of your body that would raise little to no suspicions in your head, and then inevitably chickening out before he could even reach for his goal. Yet here he was now, holding your hand on a whim.

In his defense, a chance as good as this one wouldn’t show up a second time, and he’d be an idiot not to take it — regardless of the possible consequences.

Maybe he should act without thinking more often. Then he’d be able to hold your hand and feel the softness of it as many times as he wanted.

With you being still too stunned to speak, he lifted your interlocked hands up to thank the old lady once more and wave goodbye to her, before he pulled you to him as the two of you began to walk away.

“Thank you, ma’am?” You mocked him when you were far enough for her not to hear.

“She would’ve been embarrassed otherwise,” he explained, fighting against his wishes to rub soft circles on your hand with his thumb. “There’s no need for her to know we aren’t a couple. We know we aren’t, after all”.

Unfortunately.

“You calling me the prettiest surely did the trick” you laughed under your breath.

“Well, you are”.

You lowered your head, with a shy smile curving up your lips. And, for a moment there, he swore he made you blush.

“And holding hands was absolutely necessary?” You questioned, holding your still interlocked hands up for him to see.

“Oh, absolutely” he smiled, trying his best not to show just how terrified he was now that you pointed it out. “Gotta make it look believable”.

The next second felt like an eternity. With your hands still intertwined, he could feel you ponder whether it was okay or not.

Whether he had crossed a line or not.

Most importantly, whether you would pull away —and with that set a clear boundary for him to stick to from now on— or not.

“Okay, I’ll allow it”.

His heart jumped. “You will?”

“Mhm…” you nodded, completely unaware of the way his heartbeat skyrocketed when your hold tightened around his fingers. “We’re not far enough from her yet, can’t have her think it was all an act”.

God, he loved it when you played along with his nonsense.

“Besides,” you added. “It’s cold, I didn’t bring gloves, and your hand is warm”.

“Oh, so you’re just using me”.

You chose silence, taking a bite of your hotteok instead.

“Wow, so this is how I find out?” He squinted his eyes at you in feigned offense.

When the corners of your mouth curved up in a smirk, he dramatically let go of your hand, speeding up his pace in order to make it known he was not having it.

And maybe for a second there he regretted letting go of the opportunity to hold your hand for a little bit longer, but the sound of your laugh as you begged him to come back and rushed to catch up with him, was enough for him to enjoy this moment altogether.

“Yah, Hwang Hyunjin” you followed hot on his heels, ignoring just how slippery the floor was as you tried to keep up with him. “Wait for me, your legs are too long”.

“Great, so now you insult my legs as well”.

You giggled behind him, making him laugh under his breath as well. “It’s not like t—holy fuck!”

As expected, it was only a matter of time before you slipped.

Thankfully for you, you had just caught up with his pace and Hyunjin’s reflexes were no joke, managing to catch you just as your body leaned back.

“Are you alright?” He asked, unable to hide his concern.

You nodded rather effusively, feeling his arm on your back keeping you from falling down, and having your eyes travel down for a second to the firm hand of his holding your waist.

One look into his relieved yet still worried eyes, and the realisation of you being safe and in his arms, was all it took for you to hide your face in his chest as a laughing fit took over.

“Oh, God, I’m so embarrassed” you somehow managed to say in between laughs, refusing to look up. “I’m sorry”.

With your laugh being so contagious, Hyunjin couldn’t help but laugh as well, pulling you closer to him and helping you to stand up straight, as your face remained hidden in his chest.

“It’s okay” he reassured you with a laugh, gently running his fingers through your hair.

You shook your head no, taking a deep breath in order to stop your laughter before you finally pulled away from him. “I almost dropped my hotteok” you half laughed, half pouted, making Hyunjin throw his head back as a throaty laugh escaped his mouth.

“I almost dropped mine trying to catch you” he admitted.

“Please no, I would’ve felt so bad” you lamented, wiping a couple of tears from the corners of your eyes.

“Don’t, we could’ve just gone back to get some more,” he reasoned, gently removing a few loose strands of hair from off your face and then using his thumb to wipe a single tear you had missed rolling down your cheek. “Wouldn’t mind hearing what a good-looking couple we are once again anyway”.

“I doubt she’d point it out again…” you mumbled timidly.

“Wanna go check?” He smirked.

You chuckled, shoving him off before you shook your head in both amusement and disbelief. Had he always been this bold?

“Let’s go back to my place already,” you suggested. “This night has been way too k-drama coded and I’m scared a tragedy might happen now”.

He laughed incredulously. “What kind of k-dramas have you been watching for you to be this traumatized?”

“Just the normal kind” you shrugged nonchalantly. “You’d be surprised over how many tragedies there are”.

“Well then, I’m still offended but I guess I’ll let you use me and hold my arm on our way back” he offered with a dramatic sigh, holding his arm out for you to wrap your own around it.

“Why thank you, that is so chivalrous of you” you playfully cooed, wasting no time in doing as told.

Feeling you hold on tight to his bicep, he smiled, shoving his hand into the pocket of his jacket as the two of you resumed on your walk for once and for all.

“Just to avoid the tragedy of you might slipping again” he made it clear, trying to cover the smirk curving up his mouth by taking a bite of his pastry.

“Oh, totally” you agreed, unlike him, not even trying to hide the big smirk taking over your face. “Wouldn’t want to make you catch me again when you’re oh-so-mad at me”.

Funnily enough, whether mad or not, he would always run to catch you anyway. And now that he discovered how nice it was to hold you close to him, and just how perfectly your hand fit in his, he was afraid he’d have to stop looking for a reason to touch you every time he wanted to and just do it instead, because he couldn’t keep waiting around for someone to point out how cute the two of you looked in order to hold your hand again, or for you to —God forbid— almost fall down for him to hold your waist once more.

The one touch he needed to test the waters had already happened, after all. More than one touch had happened that night, actually, and you didn’t seem to hate it in the slightest. If anything, the way you leaned closer against his body as you held on tight to his arm, told him just how comfortable you felt being so close to him.

And he’d be damned not to let loose from now on and get as physically close to you as you’d let him — as many times as it’d take for you to figure out his feelings for you, and as many more as you’d allow him to.

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @cookielixie @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin @shyshyshytwice @nicoleparadas @​broken-glowsticks

[hgfictionwriter]

Self Control: Part Twelve - Doubts

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Your due date is fast approaching, but Jessie has one set of away matches left. Anxiety, insecurity and doubt creep in while she’s gone.

Warnings: G!P content. Slight angst. Phone sex. Mutual masturbation. Praise kink. Preg/breeding kink. Possessive language. General language. Minor gaslighting?? (Nothing nefarious)

A/N: Thank you all for responding to the poll. I’m pretty thrilled you were interested in reading more of the story. Hope you enjoy. Rest of the series is here.

“Sure you don’t need me to stay?”

Before the words were even out of her mouth, Jessie knew the look you’d give her. Sure enough, by the time she set her bag at the front door and turned around, you were frowning sternly at her.

“Jess. We talked about this. And we talked with the midwife. There’s no reason anything should happen while you’re away. We’ve still got a bit of time.”

She took in your words. She still felt uneasy, but you were right, the midwife told her it was unlikely that you’d go into labour in the next week. The baby hadn’t dropped and the time wasn’t right yet either. However, it didn’t stop her from worrying.

The national team had an important set of qualifiers taking place. She’d floated the option of not going a while back and you’d immediately shut it down. She offered again as the dates, and your due date, grew closer, but again you refused.

It’s not that she didn’t want to go - she really did. She had a strong sense of duty not only to her teammates, but to the fans and - it sounded silly maybe - but to the country even. She wanted to represent her country to the best of her abilities and to carry on the legacy that Sinc and that generation had built. But, with the arrival of her firstborn around the corner, she had doubts about leaving you. She’d never forgive herself if she wasn’t around for your labour and the birth of your baby.

Not surprisingly though, you were adamant that she go. You’d always been unwaveringly supportive of her career and understood her dedication to her teams and to the sport in general.

That said, she always wanted you to know that if you needed her - pregnancy or not - she would be there for you. In a heartbeat. She also knew you’d never take advantage of her willingness to prioritize you.

She’d reflected more than once over the years on this. If she’d ever had a doubt that you were the one, this shift in her would’ve been confirmation enough.

She was a caring and thoughtful girlfriend to all of her exes. But, they weren’t top of her list. When she was in high school and university, school always came first. Then, football - her career - always came first. Before she knew it though, she was willing to stay up late to talk to you, skip practice to spend time with you, miss matches - not that you ever let her; which was yet another reason she loved you. But the fact that she entertained the thought told her all she needed to know.

So, as per usual, you told her to go, even though you had to be at least a little bit nervous. Regardless, you didn’t need her apprehension weighing on you or influencing you. So she swallowed her worries and smiled at you instead.

“Okay, love. Call me right away if anything comes up. And call Karina or Kelli if you need something immediately. Don’t hesitate,” Jessie told you seriously.

“Yes, dear,” you said patiently as you cracked a smile. “Just picture me in the stands cheering for you. You know I’d be there if I could. And just imagine, depending on what we want to do, by the time your next tournament rolls around, your daughter may be in the stands with me cheering mommy on.”

Jessie smiled broadly at the thought. She stepped towards you and placed her hands on your rounded belly. She went to say something else but the kick under her palm distracted her, followed by another kick. She looked up at you in surprise.

“Oh gosh, she’s really kicking,” she said.

“Oh yeah. She’s been kicking up a storm all morning,” you said with a hint of a smirk. You mock whispered, “I think she may know you’re leaving.”

Jessie gave you an exaggeratedly sad look and dropped to her knees so she was level with your bump. Her hands were still on the significant swell of your stomach, pushing up slightly to lift your belly and give your back some relief. You audibly sighed and gave her a grateful look as she spoke.

“I’m not going away,” she said apologetically. “At least for long. I’ll be back in a little over a week,” she went on followed by a kiss to your stomach. Her brow furrowed and she spoke imploringly. “You have to stay in there, okay? Please, please, wait until I’m back. Can you do that for me? For good measure - you stay nice and cozy in there for another 3 weeks, alright?”

Jessie smiled up at you when you reached down to tenderly tuck her hair behind her ear. You rubbed your stomach and spoke to the baby though you kept your eyes on Jessie.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m going to miss her, too,” you said with a wink. Jessie made another sad face even if she was probably meant to laugh. She kissed your hand and then your stomach.

“Mommy will be back soon. I’m going to miss you both so much. You two take care of each other while I’m away.”

Jessie forced a smile as you cupped her cheek.

“We’ll be alright, Jess. Don’t worry about us. Focus on the matches.” She rose and you pulled her in for a kiss. “Give ‘em hell.”

———————

Seeing her national teammates was always a joy. She loved her club team, but the national team? She’d practically grown up with half of them. And the highs and lows of national tournaments, along with the pride of representing their country - never mind winning Olympic Gold together - it just bonded them in a totally different way.

She was hit with a barrage of questions, teasing, as well as gifts from them and staff around the impending arrival of the baby. So many gifts she’d probably have to buy another bag to bring them all home.

Normally, Jessie couldn’t stand attention, even from people she was as close to as the team, but when it came to the thought of her daughter, all it did was make her smile. She couldn’t wait to introduce her daughter to these great people. She could tell how they’d shower her with love and care and it filled her heart up.

Before dinner, she went up to the hotel room she was sharing with Janine to drop off an armload of gifts. She set them down in one of the chairs and posed in front of the growing pile and made a funny face as she took a selfie for you.

Selfies. Another thing she didn’t exactly like, but knew you did so she took them for you, especially when she was far away. When she was happy with the photo, she sent it - a follow up to the thumbs up selfie she’d sent you when she landed.

“Should’ve brought another bag”

“How are you doing, love? How’s our baby? I wish you were here. I miss you already.”

The team was just sitting down to dinner when her phone buzzed.

“Omg. You’re kidding lol. Looks like we’re going to need that space in the guest room after all lol. That’s so sweet of everyone. Please pass along my thanks (and ‘hellos’!)”

“Btw you’re so freakin cute. I love you 🥰 “

“I’m doing okay. She’s been restless, which you know, is driving me a bit bonkers. But all’s well. And I miss you too, baby. I hope you have a great dinner with everyone!”

Tomorrow was a bit of an adjustment day. A team walk in the morning, some sightseeing, training in the afternoon and an evening to themselves, so the night went fairly late as everyone caught up with one another.

She was getting ready for bed when she heard Janine snickering as she brushed her teeth. Jessie gave her a scrutinizing look and the girl merely held up her phone. Jessie scowled as she saw a post Julia had put up of Jessie sandwiched between her and Jordyn at the restaurant as they both pinched her cheeks.

“I love when she posts pictures of me,” Jessie said dryly with a halfhearted eye roll. Janine spit out her toothpaste and gave Jessie a teasing look.

“Vanessa, Jordyn, Cloe, Ashley, Shelina…the list goes on. Never mind me. And the admin account.”

Jessie shot her a withering glare. “We’ve been here less than a day.”

“Well if you had your notifications on you’d see all the posts you’re tagged in,” Janine said with a shrug. “And we can’t help it if you’re so photogenic. Plus come on, the fans love you, and you’re, you know, the captain. So of course the staff are going to highlight everything you do.”

Jessie rolled her eyes again but checked her phone, a fleeting disappointment running through her upon not seeing a new reply from you. You two had been texting, but your replies were getting further apart and slightly shorter. Curt even? Aloof? She couldn’t put her finger on it.

She shook her head and dismissed any burgeoning worries.

She sent another couple of texts.

“Just getting into bed. Wish it was next to you. No worries about talking tonight. You’re probably busy or maybe you fell asleep already (which is good! Get some sleep whenever you can!). Maybe we can talk tomorrow night?”

“I’m leaving my ringer on (too bad, Janine), so just text or call me if you’re up and can’t sleep. Happy to talk and keep you company. Anyway. Sweet dreams, babe. Love you.”

It took her a while to fall asleep, her apprehension about leaving you, along with your lack of reply tonight had her mind whirring despite efforts otherwise. However, eventually she dozed off.

The room was still dark when she woke next. She blinked several times as she palmed the nightstand looking for her phone. She checked the time - nearly 5:00am.

More importantly though. A notification from you. She must’ve really been tired if she slept through the notification. She felt the drowsiness leave her body as she unlocked her phone to see.

“Sorry. Got distracted. Hope you had a good night. I love you too.”

Jessie frowned. There was nothing explicitly wrong with what you sent. But it wasn’t like you. Though she was relieved to hear from you, it didn’t exactly settle her. But, she didn’t want to read into things and add stress for you.

“Hi baby. No need to apologize. I just woke up. Will probably try to get a bit more sleep though. I hope you’re having a good sleep. Sucks not waking up next to you. I can never get used to it.”

She managed to get some more sleep, but by the time the team had breakfast together and returned from their little sightseeing tour she still hadn’t heard from you. There was a time difference, so it’d be a bit early for you, but it still felt odd.

Jessie found herself ruminating and it wasn’t helpful or useful, so she made of point of being extra social to keep herself distracted.

She checked her phone again as the bus was pulling into the training facility. The last message in your convo was still the picture she sent you of the skyline and a “Hope your morning’s going well! I hope work’s not too busy today” message.

It wasn’t until a break when Jessie snuck back into the locker room to check her phone that she finally saw another message from you.

“Looks pretty, babe.”

“Morning’s been fine. Lots of meetings.”

Her features felt heavy as she read your messages. Normally, you were warm. Chatty. Inquisitive. These messages didn’t feel that way at all and she felt a pit forming in her stomach.

A few bubbles popped up and she felt herself perk up. She watched and waited.

“Hope practice is going well.”

A small smile crossed her face and she felt encouraged. She went to text you, but changed her mind and tried FaceTiming you. She scurried over to a quiet corner and waited for you to answer.

You didn’t.

A renewed wave of disappointment went through her, which she quickly dismissed. She scolded herself. You just said you had meetings. It was unlikely you were actually free to talk. She exhaled and tapped out a text instead.

“Hi babe! Yeah, it’s nice here. I’d like to take you sometime. Sorry to hear you’ve had so many meetings. Hopefully they’re not too stressful. I know things have been hectic as you’re trying to wrap things up before the baby comes.”

“Practice is going well! We’re trying out some new formations and it’s going well so far. It’s so interesting coming back together after club transfers - you can see how different playing styles have been adopted, the difference that comes from increase or decrease in minutes. All of that.”

She finished with a smirk, knowing that if you were standing across from her you’d called her a nerd and kiss her. Sadly though, that wasn’t the case.

When practice wrapped Jessie was met with a reply.

“Yep. It’s been a lot. And who knows what it’ll all be like when I come back after mat leave.”

“That’s interesting, babe. Glad practice went well. They’re lucky they have your brains.”

“You know you don’t have to text me, right? You should be focused on the team and the upcoming game.”

Jessie frowned. Okay. She had to confront things now.

“Babe, is everything okay? You seem off. And I know I don’t have to text you. I want to - of course.”

It wasn’t until everyone was showered and arriving back at the hotel that you replied again.

“What? Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve just been busy with work. And I’m tired.”

Jessie’s face fell again. While everything you said was logical, it just didn’t feel right. She didn’t know what she’d done wrong and she just wanted to fix it.

She slowly gathered up her things and got off the bus. As everyone got ready for dinner she messaged you again.

“Okay. Well, try to get some rest this evening. The team’s going for dinner soon, but some of us will come back right after. Can I call you tonight?”

Jessie was at dinner when her phone buzzed.

“You should stay out with the others. You don’t need to come back early just to talk to me.”

“I want to talk to you. I’d much rather do that than go out.”

“You haven’t seen some of them in ages. Go spend time with them, Jess.”

She frowned at her phone. You’d been slow to reply all day and she was happy to talk with you in ‘real time’ so to speak, but she wasn’t anticipating this. She felt like you were pushing her away and she didn’t understand why.

“Babe. I can do both. Can I call you tonight? I would really like to. It doesn’t have to be long.”

You didn’t reply right away, leaving Jessie distracted and restless throughout the rest of dinner. She opted to go back to the hotel with the first batch of folks just in case you changed your mind and wanted to talk.

She was playing a board game with Quinn and a few others in their room when you finally responded.

“I don’t really feel like talking.”

The pit in her stomach twisted. Another text came through as she was rereading your last.

“I’m sorry, Jess.”

“Sorry. I’ll be right back,” she mumbled as she got up off of the floor and stepped into the hall, ignoring whether or not her teammates were eyeing her or not.

“Babe. We always find time to talk when I’m away. What’s going on? Now I know for sure something’s wrong. Please tell me.”

“Jessie. I want you to spend time with your team. Have fun. Enjoy yourself. Truly. We’ll talk later. And I’ll still be here when you get back.”

Jessie wasn’t sure why, but she felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. She found herself breathing deeply as she tried to steady herself. She swallowed her rising emotion.

“Okay. Well, I’ll let you go, then. Tell me when you’re up to talking and we’ll talk, okay?”

“Sounds good. Good night.”

“I love you.”

The “I love you” was the warmest you’d been all day and though it satiated her to some degree, it also made her chest constrict in a way that was more or less foreign to her in her relationship with you.

Maybe in the future, she’d have the liberty to be amused at the contrast between how she felt in this moment and how she might’ve with any ex. If an ex had been distant or cold, she honestly couldn’t have really cared less. Sure, it wasn’t enjoyable, but it wasn’t going to affect her like this. Right now? She felt terrible and uneasy, and she couldn’t even really voice why.

When Jessie woke the next day, her sleep restless at best, she felt that weight of concern throughout her body before she even picked up her phone. The feeling amplified when she didn’t see another text from you.

She opened your conversation. Sure enough, the last message was her saying good night to you - no reply. Her jaw subconsciously tightened and she wrote you again.

“Good morning, my love. I hope you had a good sleep and our little one didn’t keep you up too much. We have practice this morning, but can we talk tonight?”

She wanted to confront you more, but she didn’t know if she was being unreasonable. Plus if she got angry with you it could just cause you to pull further away.

She did silly media things for the team that day, finished training and still hadn’t heard from you. She couldn’t believe how emotional it was making her. Cloe asked something about you and Jessie had to pull herself together to give a composed answer. In truth she just had this worry and hurt and didn’t know what to do. She just wanted to be at home with you and to talk to you.

It wasn’t until around dinner that you finally replied.

“Sure. I’ll text you when I’m done dinner.”

It wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, but it was something.

The evening wore on and some of the team was starting to go to bed by the time you texted.

“Hey. I got held up at work. The time difference isn’t working in our favour. You should get some sleep. Your game is tomorrow night. You need rest. We can talk tomorrow instead.”

A rush of frustration went through Jessie. She just didn’t understand. You were a pretty direct and open communicator; if anyone got quiet and withdrawn it was definitely normally her, so it was bizarre and confusing for you to be this way.

“I’d like to talk now. I’m worried about you. I’ll sleep better if we talk.”

She chewed the side of her thumb as she stared at her phone and awaited your consent.

“Okay. I’m free now.”

Jessie’s found an empty meeting room of sorts and forewent a chair to instead pace as she called you. Her heart was raced as the device rang in her ear. She didn’t recall feeling like this since you first started dating. And even then it was entirely different.

“Hello?”

Your monosyllabic greeting was impersonal and flat and her throat tightened over it.

“Hi baby,” she said softly, not wanting to meet your aloofness with her own.

You didn’t say anything and she cleared her throat, shoving a hand in her pocket.

“What’d you have for dinner?” She asked, wanting to keep things light for now.

She heard a soft sigh come through the phone and you replied, tone still disinterested. “Just some chicken, rice and veggies.”

Jessie did her best to not be discouraged by your tone. “That’s good. How’d the rice turn out?” She said, attempting to crack a joke over how you struggled to cook rice well and always deferred to her to do so.

“Fine,” you said. A beat passed. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Never mind,” Jessie mumbled slightly as she cleared her throat once more and tried to not get upset.

The call was quiet for another second.

“How was your dinner? Looked like you guys had fun.”

A frown settled on Jessie’s face. “What? I mean, yeah, it was good and it was fun to hang out. But how did you know?”

“Janine and Julia posted a story,” you replied.

“Oh.” Jessie chuckled. “Of course it was them. Perpetually online.”

“Yeah,” you replied flatly before another lull formed.

Jessie scratched the side of her head and lifted herself up onto the balls of her feet as she broached the tension.

“Um. Are you alright, babe? You seem…I don’t know,” she trailed off, now falling back to her heels and kicking idly at the carpet below her. “Off I guess. Like. Quiet.”

“I told you I’m tired, Jess,” you responded with thinly veiled terseness.

“Yeah. But I know what you’re like when you’re tired. And it’s not like this,” she countered mildly.

She heard a huff of a laugh from you. “And I’ve never been 9 months pregnant before, so. Guess we’re in new territory.”

Jessie rubbed her forehead. “Is that what’s going on? I’m sorry I left. I offered to stay, you know,” she said without malice.

You huffed again. “I would never want you to skip this, Jess. You should know me better than that.”

“Well then I’m confused. I feel like I’m in trouble. My best guess is for being here. Yet I offered to stay and you wanted me to go.”

“You’re not in trouble,” you said.

Jessie gave a short laugh. “Yeah? How come you’ve barely talked to me since I landed? It’s painful trying to get more than a two word answer out of you. It’s like talking to me is a chore or an obligation all of a sudden.”

Her brow was heavy as she frowned and waited for you formulate a reply.

“I told you already, I want you to spend time with everyone and to have fun. Go enjoy yourself,” you said, a bit more quiet and subdued this time.

She gave another empty laugh. “I have. I told you I have. But I want to talk to you, too.”

“Why?”

Her face screwed up in disbelief. “Because you’re my fiancée and the mother of my child and I love you??” She asked, her voice rising.

A beat passed and Jessie could feel her heart thumping heavily in her chest.

“Well.” Another moment passed and your voice tightened. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Jessie asked, calming down some and speaking softly.

There was another pause, longer this time, and she was able to inquire when she heard a faint sniffle through the phone.

“Y/N?” She asked. “Are you okay?”

More silence until another sniffle came through.

“Babe,” she beseeched, feeling anxiety start to build in her body. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, your voice thick with emotion this time.

“Baby,” Jessie said gently. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry that instead of just having fun and enjoying everything, you have me to worry about,” you said, voice wavering.

Jessie frowned deeper than ever. “What? Babe, I don’t understand.”

“Jess,” you implored. “I see all of the posts everyone puts up. You’re all having a great time, having these new experiences, new sights. I see how much fun you’re having - and I really want that for you. Please don’t misunderstand. I just feel horrible that you’re being tied down now,” your voice broke at the end and you sniffled more fully.

“Babe-” Jessie’s confusion and surprise was cut off as you spoke further.

“I’m sitting here, big as a house, ready to pop, and I’m seeing you have the time of your life - as you should - and I’m wondering if this is actually what you want. You’re in your prime. You’re travelling the world. Surrounded by gorgeous girls at every turn. And in a few weeks you’ll have a screaming baby at home and with a partner who ties you down.

“We got pregnant - basically on a whim, and you proposed and your whole life is going to change and I can’t help but worry you didn’t think it through and you’ll feel trapped. And I’m sorry I’m the one who did it to you.”

By now, you were sobbing into the phone. Jessie’s jaw had dropped and she was just staring blankly at the ground as she processed your claims.

“Baby,” she eventually said, her voice both purposeful and gentle. “I don’t feel that way. I need you to know that.”

Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to organize her thoughts and address your worries.

“We chose to get pregnant. Emphasis on the ‘We’ and ‘chose’. Meaning I was very much,” she held back a soft laugh, “an active participant. I very consciously chose to try for a family with you. Yes - initially it was in the heat of the moment, but I haven’t had a single doubt about having a child with you. You are the one for me - through and through. Whether we were having a kid or not, but I am beyond ecstatic that we’re having a family together,” she stressed.

“All I do is talk about you and our little one,” Jessie said. “And I’m not sad or resentful of that at all - I’m thrilled. Babe, I love you more than anything. And I love our daughter just the same and I can’t wait to meet her.”

She heard your crying grow quieter and she went on softly.

“Are you perhaps having some doubts?” She asked, forcing past a new wave of apprehension. “I could understand if you did. It’s not fair to you that I’m out here - living the life, as you say - and you have the task of carrying our baby. I know you love work and your career has to be put on hold temporarily. I’m really sorry. And I’ll do everything I can to make that as painless as possible, but it doesn’t change the fact that that sacrifice still falls on you.”

You sniffled. “No,” you replied meekly. “I’m scared, I guess. But I don’t have doubts. I just feel like a burden and like I’ve cut off your freedom.”

Jessie sighed inaudibly. “You are not cutting off my ‘freedom’. I don’t feel restricted and I am going into this understanding that I also need to make adjustments and I really am happy to. I want you and a family together. I love football. Of course. It’s been my life. But it’s not my forever. That’s you. And her.”

“You’re being too nice to me,” you said, your voice hitching.

“No such thing. I love and adore you,” she said resolutely. “Now, can you tell me what’s scaring you? It’s totally valid to be scared, I just want to know more and to help if I can.”

“I don’t know. Some career stuff - the unknown there. If I’ll be a good parent. If you’ll leave me…”

“Your workplace will be counting down the days until you’re back. They’ve even said that,” Jessie chuckled. “And if, for any reason, you decide you want something different, we’ll navigate that when we get there and we’ll do it together. And you’re going to be an incredible mom. I have zero doubts. And I can’t even fathom the thought of leaving you. Not just because we’re having a kid together - in general. In fact, I’ve spent the past couple of days reflecting upon how absolutely different I am with you than I was with any of my exes. Believe me - there is no contest. Past or future.”

You sighed wearily into the phone. “God, Jess. I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to deal with my insecurities. Especially during your tournament. God.”

Jessie made a face. “Actually, as your partner that’s exactly what I’m supposed to do. And come on, this is the smallest of reassurances. You are so confident all the time - it’s intimidating, actually,” she said with a smirk. “Which you know.”

You finally laughed. “I know.”

“Mhm. You had me sweating and stammering when I first met you,” Jessie repeated for good measure.

“You did great,” you said with a laugh for which Jessie was grateful.

“I’m very, very happy to reassure you any time you need,” she reiterated.

"Thank you," you said with a small whimper. "I just got in my head. I'm anxious even though I know better." You gave a watery laugh that pulled a smile out of Jessie. "You still love me?"

Jessie laughed. "More than ever. I promise."

"I know I should've just talked to you. I'm sorry," you said.

"It's okay, baby. I'm glad we got that sorted," she told you before she rolled her eyes. "You had me worried that something had gone wrong - maybe the baby was coming early or something."

"Oh. Well she did drop."

"What!" Jessie exclaimed, head jutting forward.

"I think that's also went sent me into a spiral," you said. "It happened the day after you left. Remember she was so active - like crazy active. Then she just shifted and she's sitting so low now. I called the midwife - the timing makes sense and she has no concerns."

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you need to tell me these things," Jessie said, irritation settling in her shoulders.

"I was going to tell you when we talked...," you offered weakly, surely feeling guilty.

Jessie sighed heavily, pacing once more and trying to let go of her renewed anxiety and irritation.

"I'm sorry, Jess," you went on. "Not my best moment...moments...as a partner. Thank you for being so patient with me."

She hummed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "It's okay, babe. I know you're dealing with a lot. It's okay."

"I miss you," you said, more like an offer or an olive branch.

She had to laugh as she shook her head. "Yeah, I miss you too."

"If it makes you feel better - I felt miserable not talking to you. Or not being open with you."

"That doesn't make me feel better," Jessie said flatly though she chuckled.

"Mm. Well. I wish I was there with you. I always hate going to sleep without you, but especially right now," you said.

"I know the feeling," Jessie sighed as she leaned against the wall. "I really do wish you were here."

"Me too," you said. "Though I'm sure Janine could live without that," you laughed and she snickered.

"Uh, yeah, she'd pack up her bags and move immediately," she said. A devilish smirk crossed her face despite the weight of your conversation just moments before. "She hasn't fully recovered from that time she caught us on the phone - or me, I suppose."

"Oh my God," you laughed. "That was a lot of fun though."

"It really was," Jessie agreed as she recalled the memory. She cleared her throat as the visuals in her mind became a little too vivid. "Embarrassing, but fun."

"Maybe...we could have some fun like that again?"

Jessie quirked an eyebrow up. It sounded great, but she wanted to be mindful of the distress you’d been in.

"When?" She clarified.

"Mmm, up to you, I suppose. You have your game tomorrow, so you should probably get some sleep tonight," you said. Something in your tone told her you weren't entirely set on that though.

"I'm not tired," she simply said.

"Where are you now, then?" You asked.

"Nowhere convenient. But I can easily head back to the room," she said, already on the move. “You’re sure about this? No pressure or anything. Seriously. I want to make sure you’re okay first and foremost.”

"I’m very sure. I’ve been missing you so much. And you know what emotional intimacy does to me,” you chuckled, drawing the same reaction out of Jessie. “Are you sure? I really don't want to affect your game or state any more than I have."

"I think it would actually really help my game," she said flirtatiously as she got into the elevator.

"Okay, let me get ready too, then," you said. She heard you moving around and then the eventual sound of you rummaging through the nightstand drawer.

"Ugh," Jessie said, mostly facetiously. "That's my job," she grumbled.

"You've been replaced by a machine," you joked. "No, come on, you know these things collect dust when you're around. Nothing compares to having your cock inside of me."

"Jesus Christ, let me at least get to the room," she said through grit teeth as she walked towards her suite.

When she stepped inside, it was empty, as expected, but Janine could be coming back at any point. She grabbed her airpods and connected them as she stepped into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.

"How fucking perfect," she whispered with a smirk as she spied the shelving above the toilet. She propped her phone up there and started video. When your face appeared on her screen she lit up. "There's my girl."

You gave a bashful smile, unlike the flirtatious or playful one you'd typically give in response; surely a lingering reaction from your earlier feelings.

"You're so beautiful. I've missed you so much," she said earnestly.

"I've missed you too, baby," you said sweetly. Jessie gave you a teasing look.

"See? Was that so hard?"

"What?" You asked with a small smile.

"Calling me 'baby'," she teased. You rolled your eyes playfully.

"What do I have to do to make it up to you?"

"Oh, baby. Sure you want to ask that?"

"Mhmm," you nodded, biting your lower lip. "I'm very sorry," you said slowly and in an entirely different way than earlier.

"Shit," Jessie said as she started to cup herself through her pants, her length starting to stiffen already. "That's my good girl." You bit your lip harder and she could see you start to fidget.

"I wish I was on my knees taking you into my mouth right now," you said.

Jessie groaned and undid her pants, dropping them to the floor, shortly followed by her boxers. She looked around quickly and spotted lotion on the counter, she stepped out of view - you whining right away - and pumped some into her palm before returning. She stroked her cock up and down, her hand moving swiftly and easily along her erection.

"What are you doing?" You asked with a flirtatious waggle of your eyebrows.

"Imagining your mouth around me," she said matter of fact.

"Well step back a bit, I wanna see," you said and Jessie obliged as she continued to stroke herself. She took off her shirt quickly, standing clad in a sports bra, her flexing bicep and abs on display.

"Oh fuck, babe," you said in want and she heard your vibrator turn on.

"You, too. If you really want to make it up to me you'll have to show me something. I know it's not easy right now, so feel free to be creative," Jessie said, tilting her chin up as she looked at you through her phone.

"Could it be the baby you planted in me," you said as you turned the phone to show your stomach as you rubbed it sensually. "Look at what you did to me, baby."

"Mm, you look gorgeous carrying my baby," Jessie said as she held herself more firmly as she stroked. She felt that primal rush inside of her and she groaned low in her chest. "You're my girl, aren't you?"

You started rubbing yourself with the vibrator and you returned the video to your face. Your cheeks were already growing flushed.

"Of course I am."

"Say it," Jessie demanded.

"I'm your girl, Jessie," you said. "Soon to be your wife. And mother of your child, of course."

"Fuck yes you are," she said through grit teeth as her pace quickened. "No one else's. Ever."

You nodded eagerly, your mouth now open as you pleasured yourself.

"No one else's. My pussy is so wet for you. You're the only one I want. God, I'm making a mess of our sheets already."

Jessie grunted as she clenched her jaw. "God, no one could ever work me up like you. Mm, I wish I buried inside of you right now. Fuck, I can feel how tight and hot you are around me. God, there's nothing and no one better."

"Oh fuck, Jess," you panted, your cheeks deep red and your head thrown back. "I need you to fuck me. Your hands on me, your cock filling me up. I need you so badly."

"You have me," Jessie breathed, her fist riding hard and fast up and down her length to the point her voice was shuddering. "I'm yours to keep. You know I'd be there taking care of you, taking care of my girl if I could."

"I know. No one can take better care of me than you."

"Remember that," she said as she started to buck into her fist. “God, you’re going to make me cum already.”

You shoulders heaved up and down, hitching as you worked your clit. “I’m close too.”

“Yeah?” Jessie asked with a crooked grin. “Picturing me thrusting into you from underneath - the sound of my hips slapping against your thighs as I stretch you out and make you mine all over again?”

“Oh God,” you panted and she could see your body rocking faster.

“Be a good girl and cum for me,” Jessie said. “Cum all over my cock and show me you’re mine. I’ll cum inside you and show you I’m yours.”

Your moans heightened as your eyes fell shut as you carried yourself over the edge. Your jaw was fully slack and you looked absolutely breathtaking as you reached your climax.

“I’m cumming for you, Jess,” you said before you began to whimper and she saw your body tense up.

“God yeah. My beautiful girl, cumming so good for me,” Jessie said as she watched you. She stepped forward and soon she grunted as ropes of cum shot into the toilet as she came. Her cock twitched in her hand as she rut into her hand. She couldn’t help but lament not being able to cum inside of you.

She stroked herself again, her motions slowing and her posture relaxing as she started to come down. She belatedly saw the wince on your face.

“Shit. The Braxton Hicks are intense right now,” you told her.

“Fuck - okay, no more. No more cumming until I’m home. I’ll be damned if you orgasm yourself into labour - especially me being here. No way,” she told you as she started to clean herself up. “Besides, you told me it was my job to fuck you into labour.”

You chuckled through a wince. “So demanding,” you joked. “Fine. As long as you’re ready to get to work as soon as you’re home.”

Jessie smirked. “You know I will be.”

—————

Jessie stood in front of the microphone post-game, shoulders still visibly rising and falling as she caught her breath and sweat still dripping down her face.

She answered the questions with quiet focus, eyes trained on the interviewer.

“…now lastly, you’re very close to expecting the arrival of your firstborn soon. Was that affecting you in any respect going into this win?”

While she wore a serious frown the minute prior, a broad smile now crossed her face and she felt her body lighten and relax.

“Oh, absolutely. My family is always on my mind and motivating me. I mean, the team and I work hard to focus and go into matches, especially ones like this, with a certain mentality no matter what and my fiancée is one of my best supporters. But,” she chuckled lightly, “if I was going to leave this close to the due date, I knew I better make it worth it and win,” she chuckled before her face settled into a soft smile. “But yeah, they’re both on my mind and I miss them like crazy. I know they both want us to rock it out here, and that’s what I intend to do, but I also can’t wait to be home.”

[wonuuism]

puppy love - 심재윤

in which jake makes the most if his (expensive) visit to the vet.

tags: fluff, vet!reader, layla’s not overweight irl but for the sake of the plot let’s say she’s been eating a little too well;;

author’s note: idk i wrote this in like an hour bc of a sudden burst of motivation. no proofreading bc it’s 3am LOL. first fic woo!! enjoy!!!

—

jake’s worried. panicking, even.

layla’s laying down next to him in the back of the taxi, her eyes shifting around nervously. jake’s leg is bouncing up and down as anxiety courses through his veins. layla had slipped and fallen down the stairs while he was home and her sharp whining whenever she walked afterwards made him uneasy. so, he was quick to call up the nearest vet clinic and book the soonest appointment for a consultation.

he’s really, really worried though. layla’s never had any bad scares like this one, so he’s not sure what to expect. what if it’s worse than he thinks? what if they tell him layla’s broken a bone? what if layla has to go through surgery? oh god - jake thinks he might throw up.

he’s interrupted from his thoughts as the taxi driver stops the car and announces they’ve arrived. thanking the driver, jake exits the car and gulps nervously as he surveys the exterior of the clinic. it feels ominous.

a bell rings as he pushes open the door, and the girl at the front desk looks up from the computer screen. “welcome in! how may i help you?”

“uh… i have an appointment at 11:30. for layla.” jake responds.

“awesome, i see you in our calendar. please hold tight while i let the vet know you’re here.” she smiles kindly, but it does little to ease jake’s nerves. still, he manages a tight-lipped smile and curt nod in response.

—

jake watches as someone emerge from the back, looking at a clipboard in their hands. “layla?”

he stands up right away, prompting layla who had been laying by his feet to do the same. “yes, that’s us.”

you look up at the source of the voice and send him a pleasant smile. walking towards him, you reach out your hand and he shakes it, but not before quickly swiping his palm on his jeans. “nice to meet you. i’m dr. l/n, and i’ll be taking a look at layla today. how about we head inside so i can take a better look at her?”

jake nods earnestly and gently tugs on layla’s leash to have her follow him into the consultation room in the back. once inside, you ask if he could kindly place layla on the table - a request he readily complies to. you’re impressed at how little he struggled given the fact that layla is a fairly big dog. clearly, he was strong. and maybe kind of cute, too.

“so,” you begin, “what seems to be the issue?”

“she had a bit of a bad fall and she’s been limping and whining a lot since then… i’m worried she might’ve broken a bone or something like that?” jake explains as he runs his hand comfortingly through layla’s fur.

you nod as he speaks, reaching over to assess any damage. after checking her heartbeat with your stethoscope, you flex her hips, gently press on her legs, and check on her paws.

as you do so, layla’s continuously making noises of discontent. initially, you had believed that her right front leg was causing her discomfort since she’d barked sharply when you touched it. however, she’d done the same thing for every other limb you’d touched as well. smiling, you turn your attention to her owner.

“i don’t see anything wrong with layla. her legs are fine, i’d say the shock of the fall is probably what made her respond like that. us people tend to coddle our pets a lot when they get injured, and dogs especially like that attention so they exaggerate it to make it seem worse than it is.”

jake is dumbfounded. “so you’re saying layla was just being dramatic?”

you smile apologetically. “yes… i know it’s not the news you were expecting, but that’s a good thing! means she’s not injured.”

you’re right, jake supposes. but that means i brought her all the way here because she’s a drama queen?!

you note the way jake sighs heavily, and it makes you want to try and console him by making his trip to the clinic seem somewhat worthwhile with basic medical advice.

“however, i would recommend putting her on a bit of a diet. she seems to be just a little bit over the ideal weight, and that can cause unnecessary strain on her joints.” you explain and jake nods, hanging on to every word coming out of your mouth. “after all, we want layla to live a long and healthy life, don’t we?” you coo, reaching out to ruffle her neck.

jake smiles. cute.

wait, what?

he takes this chance to finally look at you. he’d been too occupied previously with worry that he hadn’t been able to actually register what you looked like. now, he can see that you are, in fact, cute. you look around his age, and he’s impressed that you’re a vet this young. you suit the scrubs, but he wonders what you’d wear outside of work.

you pull away from layla and jake snaps back to reality. he’s glad layla’s okay. still, he sternly faces her and points his index finger toward her snout. “alright missy, you’re going on a diet starting today. consider it punishment for scaring me like that.”

chuckling, you turn to face him and he mirrors your action. there’s not much left to say, so he thanks you quickly and leaves the room, closing the door behind him. you stay since you have to log layla’s information in your computer. as you’re wrapping up, you add one more thing in layla’s “additional information” section.

additional information: super cute, looks exactly like owner

—

jake silently mourns on his way back home. again, he’s glad layla’s okay. he really is. but he had to pay an extraordinarily large amount of money just to be told that she’s fine. and a little fat.

he glares at layla, who looks back at him with sparkling eyes. his heart melts at the sight, and he sighs as he pets her. jake thinks of you and the fondness in your eyes as you petted the same fur moments prior. maybe something good did come out of his visit to the vet.

suddenly, he gets an idea. he paid a lot of money for this consultation, so he could be a little greedy. as a client, he could ask for your number, right? after all, what if something truly serious happened next time? he’d rather skip the formality of booking an appointment through the website and speak directly with you instead.

so, he pulls up the clinic’s information and calls the number on their website. a girl — likely the same one who welcomed him in — answers and asks what she could do for him.

“hey, i was just at the clinic for an appointment with my dog layla. i hope this doesn’t sound weird, but do you think it would be possible to get the number of the vet who saw layla today? just in case anything happens to layla again. you know?”

jake physically cringes as he speaks. way to not sound weird.

“uhm… one moment please.” the girl responds. jake hears whispering on the other side of the call.

what he didn’t know was that you were right next to the girl on call, sorting through some paperwork before you saw your next patient.

“doctor! layla’s owner is calling and asking if he can get your number..?” your secretary whispers.

you whip your head towards her, not believing what you heard. layla’s owner? the cute, fluffy hair guy?

she looks as giddy as you feel, giggling as she raises her eyebrows suggestively. laughing at her, you give her a thumbs up and she’s quick to bring the phone to her ear again.

“hello? yes, the doctor said there’s no problem. do you have something to write with? okay. her number is…”

you smile to yourself as she recites your personal number. a bell rings throughout the clinic, notifying you of your next patient’s arrival. you greet them and lead them to your consultation room and as you close the door your phone buzzes.

unknown number: hi, this is jake. layla’s dad. thanks again for the help today. if you don’t mind, i’d like to take you out sometime?

you bite your lip to suppress your grin. quickly, you reply.

you: i’d love that. date and time?

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Chapter 7

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“I want to go to that memorial service,” she repeated to Azriel.

“You are supposed to keep off your leg,” Azriel responded to her flatly.

Irena huffed, frustration clear in her voice. "I feel fine," she said, gesturing at her injury. "It’s just sore, but I’d be careful, I promise."

Azriel looked unconvinced, his gaze sweeping down her injured leg. "It needs more time to heal," he said firmly. "You shouldn’t be walking on it yet, let alone going to a memorial service."

Irena let out a frustrated sigh, her eyes meeting his in a steely stare. For a moment, a silent battle of wills passed between them. She was determined to attend the memorial, and he was just as determined to stop her from overexerting herself.

“You can carry me down,” she told him. “But I am going.”

Azriel held her gaze, stubbornness meeting stubbornness. The tension in the air was almost palpable. But then, finally, he let out a resigned sigh. He knew her well enough to know that once she’d made up her mind there was little to stop her.

“Fine,” he said finally, his tone one of reluctant acceptance. “But you’re resting when we get back, understand?”

Irena smiled, a small, victorious smile. “I promise,” she said, holding up a hand in mock surrender.

Azriel rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the hint of a smile that tugged the corner of his mouth. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he said gruffly, even as he carefully drew the brush through her hair.

Irena just leaned into his touch. "That's why you love me," she said easily, closing her eyes.

There was something so sweetly intimate in the fact that he loved to brush her hair and braid it away from her face...that he could spent hours doing just that.

When he had a bad night...a really bad night…wrecked with nightmares...sometimes it was all he did. Azriel drew his fingers through her hair again and again, silently. Irena had never asked him what he thought about when he did it...when those violently scarred hands touched her like she was the most precious thing in the whole wide world.

She just let him. And he did that. Every single time, almost reverently...like he wanted to savor the feel of her hair...like he was worshipping some part of her. It made her stomach flip. And it made her want to hold him, to keep the worst of the nightmares away.

Irena turned slowly, her injured leg stretched out in front of her. When she was facing him again, he set the brush down and carefully drew her against his chest, his arms wrapping around her firmly.

She leaned into his embrace, her heartbeat slowing when she felt the steady, reassuring rhythm of his own. She closed her eyes, breathed him in.

"I love you," she told him softly.

Azriel's strong, broad arms tightened around her, drawing her even closer. "I love you too," he murmured against her hair, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. "More than I ever thought possible."

His lips found her forehead, then her temple, trailing a path of soft kisses across her skin until he reached her cheek. When he pulled back slightly, his eyes were dark, filled with a possessive need that made her heart stutter.

Azriel’s fingers traced a gentle line along her jaw, gently tilting her chin up. “Say it again,” he demanded quietly, his voice a rough whisper against her lips.

Irena's breath hitched at the command, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "I love you," she repeated, the words coming easily, like they were part of her. "I love you, Azriel."

The shadows were the one who helped procure one of her dresses for her to wear, and who helped button it up, carefully closing the fabric covered buttons that kept the long sleeves tight around her wrist. And then Azriel was the one who lifted her up

Azriel's strong arms encircled her, lifting her easily off the bed and into his arms. Irena wrapped her arms around his neck, her heart fluttering as she found herself cradled against his broad chest once more.

The muscles of his shoulders bunched under her touch, a testament to the strength coiled within him. He carried her with such ease; it was almost as if she weighed nothing to him. It was a heady feeling, being held by him like this.

Irena loved it.

He carried out of the room, the shadows opening the door…and then down to where they held the daily services they attended.Irena rested her chin on Azriel’s shoulder as they walked through the halls. Her injured leg was still throbbing, but being cradled in his arms made it easier to bear. Each step was carefully measured, so as not to cause her too much pain.

Shadows wreathed him as they moved through the corridors, a comforting presence. Azriel’s gait remained steady, each step measured to avoid jarring her injury too much.

Finally they arrived where they normally held their services, roslin already waiting for them. So was Meera who started at Azriel wide eyed as he put Irena down into a chair. “Let me know when you are done,” he told her softly and she pressed a kiss against his cheek in thanks.Irena watched as Azriel stepped back leaving the room, she didn’t think he was going to go far at all.

And then to her surprise suddenly Meera threw herself at her, sobbing. “I am sorry,” she whimpered.

Irena wrapped her arms around the younger girl, drawing her into a tight hug. "Hey, hey," she soothed, her voice gentle. "It's okay. Shhhh, don't cry."

The girl sobbed into her shoulder, her thin frame shaking. Irena held her, rubbing small circles into the girl’s back, trying to provide what comfort she could.

"It's okay," Irena repeated, her voice hushed. "It's going to be okay, Meera."

The girl shook her head, pulling back slightly to look up at Irena, her eyes red and puffy. “No it’s not,” she cried, her voice thick with tears. “It’s all my fault!”

“It’s not your fault,” Roslin said fiercely.

Irena shot Roslin a grateful look, appreciating the other female's support. "That's right," she said, giving Meera a gentle squeeze. "You have done nothing wrong, Meera. Don't for a second forget that."

"If I didn't ask you to talk to Merrill, you wouldn't have been hurt," Meera wailed tearfully.

Irena shook her head, her heart squeezing at the girl's words. "No, Meera," she insisted. "You are not responsible for what happened. Not one bit. Do you hear me?"

The girl sniffled, her body shaking with suppressed sobs. Irena hugged her tighter. "What happened is not your fault," she repeated firmly. "I don’t want to hear another word about it, understood?"

The girl nodded, her eyes still shimmering with tears. But Irena could see that she was no longer sobbing. "Good," Irena said, still stroking the girl's back soothingly. "You are not to blame, Meera. And you've got to stop thinking that you are, alright?"

Meera hiccuped and nodded again, a small, shaky breath leaving her. "I...I’ll try," she said, her voice barely louder than a whisper. But it was progress.

It was something.

The room filled slowly, Irena being greeted by the priestesses she had spent 2 centuries with. By her friends, by her sisters. Clotho squeezed her hand, not a single word coming from her, but they both had never needed to talk much anyway.

They had been friend for 2 centuries. Sometimes no words were needed. 

And then...then the memorial service started...and Irena listened silently.

Irena sat quietly, her injured leg propped up on a small stool. The room was filled with her sisters, all of them gathered together to remember the lost ones. There were tears, there was grief, but there was also an air of solidarity.

The priestesses listened as words were spoken, as memories were shared. The silence that fell afterwards was heavy. The loss was palpable in the air, a silent presence that hung over them all.

Irena looked around the room, her gaze tracing the faces of the priestesses around her. They were all hurting, each in their own way. But they were not alone. They were a community, a family bound together by a shared grief.

Even when Merrill had been difficult, she had been one of them. She had been loved. She had been a part of their community.

And they were grieving that loss.

Irena could see it in their expressions, the sorrow and pain mirrored in the eyes of every single one of her sisters. Merrill might not have been an easy person to get along with, but she had been one of them. Her loss left a hole in their midst, a gap that couldn't be filled.

There was a certain solidarity and comfort in that realisation. Loss brought them closer together, knitting them tighter in their shared grief. And that made the pain a little more bearable, knowing that they were all hurting together.

***

Azriel stood guard outside the room where the memorial service was being held, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. He was close enough to intervene should it be needed, but far enough to give the priestesses the space they needed to grieve.

Or at least he told himself that. He couldn't quite bear to let Irena far out of his sight yet.

Even though he knew it was foolish to be so worried, he couldn't help it. His instincts were still on high alert, as if he expected some new threat to come crashing down at them. And Irena's injury had only strengthened that protective part of him.

"There you are."

Maybe it shouldn't have surprised him. But it did. As he looked up and stared at Mor. Just as beautiful as always.

When he had been young and stupid, he had taken one look at her and had fallen in love.

He stared at her now, the memory of that young, foolish boy bubbling in his chest. Mor's golden blonde hair fell into waves over her shoulders, her dark brown eyes fixed on him, studying him.

He didn’t even have it in him to confront the shadows why they hadn’t warned him. 

"I...wanted to talk to you," Mor said hesitantly.

Azriel pushed off the wall, uncrossing his arms. He had a feeling he knew where this was going, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to have this discussion right now.

"What about?” he asked flatly, his gaze flickering to the closed door to the memorial service. Mor didn't miss the look, her lips twisting up into a wry smile. 

"Guarding the door, I see," she said, her voice light, though there was an undercurrent of something...tender?

"What do you want, Mor?" he said sharply.

"I wanted to apologise," it blurted out of her.

Azriel froze, surprise flitting across his face. He hadn't expected an actual apology. "What?" he asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Mor took a step closer to him. "I’m sorry," she said quietly, her expression sincere with none of the usual bravado. "For…well, everything, I suppose. I...I fucked up. And I hurt you...even when I never wanted to do that..."

Azriel's heart ached at her words, an old, festering wound throbbing. He'd tried to tell himself it no longer mattered, when really...it did. It always mattered.

"Why now?" he asked gruffly. "Why apologise...now?"Mor let out a shaky breath. "Because I finally realised what a fool I was," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "And...because…” her gaze met his, something broken in her eyes, “we’re all hurting. And some of us have lost too much already. I don’t want to lose my friend, Az."

"You could have put a stop to it centuries ago," he said, his voice gravel. "You could have told me 400 years ago that you would never be interested, Morrigan. Instead, you gave me just enough to keep me in line."

Mor closed her eyes, as if his words physically hurt. “I know,” she said in a low voice, her shoulders slumping. “I…I’m sorry. I'm such an idiot, Azriel. I should have...made it clear…instead I led you on. ”

Azriel's chest ached, hearing the remorse in her voice. He'd been angry at her for so long, his heart hardening to her, even as old feelings still hummed beneath the surface. “Why?” he asked hoarsely. "Why did you do it?"

"Because I was scared," Mor admitted. "Scared...of what people were going to think, what it would mean if...I was scared...and I used you...and I hurt you…And I am sorry, Az."

Azriel closed his eyes, his heart squeezing painfully at her words. "You shouldn't have used me, Morrigan," he said, his voice strained. "I'm not...I’m not a toy. I do have feelings." If she believed it or not. 

"I know," she said quietly. "And I took advantage of that. And it was wrong. I was in the wrong, Az. And I am truly, truly sorry."

Azriel leaned his head back against the wall, the cool stone against his head grounding. He'd heard Mor apologize before, but never with this level of seriousness. It...meant a lot. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't going to erase centuries' worth of heartache and pain.

Mor seemed to sense his thoughts, her eyes flickering to the closed door again. "I...I know an apology isn't going to fix anything," she said awkwardly. "I do know that. But...I just...I hope one day, we can go back to being friends?"

Azriel blew out a breath, his mind warring with his heart. The part of him that was still the young, foolhardy male who'd first loved Mor wanted to forgive her, to just go back to how they were.

But…he was no longer that naive boy. And the decades of pain and heartache he'd suffered at her hands were not so easily forgotten.

Mor was holding her breath, watching him closely, waiting for his reaction. She looked...worried, almost scared. As if she was afraid he would reject her.

And a part of him wanted to. Wanted to hurt her the way she’d hurt him.

But that part of him...it was not in control anymore. He let out another slow breath, the tension leaving his body. “I’m…” he began, his voice catching in his throat, “I’m not...I can’t…I need time,” he finally managed to say.A flicker of hurt passed across Mor's face, but was quickly hidden. 

She nodded slowly, her eyes falling again to the closed door. "I understand," she said quietly. “I...I hope one day…” she continued, her voice breaking off.

That hopeful, vulnerable expression on her face tugged at his heart, but he needed to harden himself against it. He couldn’t give in too easily. He let out a soft huff. “Stop looking at the door,” he told her fiercely. 

Mor inclined her head."I understand why you never told us," Mor said softly. "I do. But...I am happy for you. I want you to know that. I...I hope she makes you as happy as Emerie makes me," Mor said quietly.

Azriel couldn't help the small shudder that went through him at that. He still wasn’t used to such open talk about what Irena was to him. And to hear Mor...accept it, even be happy? It was almost surreal. "She does," he said quietly, his eyes flickering to the closed door.

Mor smiled faintly. “I’m glad.”

There was a long moment of silence, an awkward, strained thing growing between them. Azriel had a feeling he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know what to say.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I love all the things you write for the bat boys! So it just makes me wonder, how would the bat boys react to their partner doing the thing from tiktok where they’re all like “My boyfriend just told me he doesn’t love me anymore” all bc they told them that they couldn’t shop on Amazon anymore? 😂😂😂

I dunno what this was tbh.

Jason

Raises his brow at you the moment you say this, unamused. ‘Says the one who’s spending unnecessary amounts of money on 50cm plushies.’ He retorts.

You huffed as you crossed your arms over your chest. ‘Could’ve fooled me.’ You really wanted that 50cm hello kitty plush but Jason had to pull you away from doing so unfairly.

Jason groaned as he knelt in front of you. ‘Sweetheart, if I could I would give you all the plushies your heart desires, but you’ve got to think we’ve got limited living space and besides you were bound to get annoyed with how much space they take up sooner or later. I’m doing this for us, okay?’ He said as he searched your eyes.

You started at him for a bit before relaxing your arms. ‘Okay.’ You murmured.

Jason smiled, ‘do you take back your statement about me not loving you?’ He asked.

‘I guess.’ You replied, still not looking at him but Jason brought his hand to your chin and gently moved it so that you were stuck staring at him as he smiled at you sweetly. ‘I’ll ask again, do you take back the statement that I don’t love you?’

‘Yes, I take it back.’ You said louder this time. ‘I take back my statement that you don’t love me, I was being dramatic and I’m sorry that’s I’d ever say anything bad about me sweet, handsome man.’ You added when Jason didn’t think you were being honest and decided to butter him up with flattery.

Jason chuckled as he presses a kiss to your forehead. ‘Flatter won’t get you anywhere sweetheart but I appreciate the attempt, I’ll buy you a plushy for being good as long as you don’t spout such nonsense.’ He hums as he pressed a kiss to your nose before one more against your lips.

‘I promise.’ You said as you closed your eyes, knowing well enough that you could never say such things again when he treated you with nothing but love, respect and willingness to compromise. That and you could never stay mad at him for too long, you didn’t have the heart to.

Dick pouts but still stands strong on his stance.

‘I do love you baby but this has become an addiction, I’m only trying to save you the embarrassment from having your card decline for insufficient funds.’ Dick tells you as though he was helping you break a shitty habit, which you guess he was, but it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t help but buy that one plushy! It looked so lonely and you wanted to give it a home!

‘But, but-‘

‘No buts.’ Dick replied sternly. ‘The plushy would’ve found a better home with that kid that came into the store after us,’ he then squeezed your hand reassuringly, ‘besides i don’t think you really want to Hayley to get to them.’

You winced thinking about how the poor plushies would get torn apart within seconds if Hayley found them, which is why you kept all of your plushies elsewhere while getting Hayley her how set of toys, was it a bit much? Yeah but if it was to make your sweet puppy happy then you’d more than willingly go bankrupt for her just to see her little happy paw tippy taps. ‘I guess you’re right.’ You admitted defeatedly.

‘You hurt my heart when you said I didn’t love you anymore.’ Dick feels you and he brought your hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat. ‘You know I love you more than anything, so please don’t go hurting my heart for the sole purpose of loving you without fail.’ You couldn’t help but internally coo at his words and know that realistically he was looking out for you, so you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed with how dramatic you are being, especially over something that you could easily get when Dick wasn’t looking.

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him after all.

‘I’m sorry, what can I do to make it up to you.’ You asked as you looked into his pretty eyes.

‘Since you’re offering Preferably some cuddles, kisses and even more kisses from the most beautiful person I know.’ Dick said with a cheeky smile on his face, the little shit had been planning this the entire time, the conniving little fucker and you fell for his trap without much difficulty. And now you were stuck coddling this smug man as he patted himself on the back for getting back at you for being dramatic over some plushy that he may or may not have bought you already.

[ellecdc]

Soooo, I'm not the usual requester of the poly!moonwater x reader, but I fell I love with them and the way you write them!

With that being said, could I request Mia and Monty taking in Regulus and reader, saving them from their cruel families, and the holidays being absolutely hectic with everyone there.

Maybe some Mia and reader bonding?

If not that's fine! All my love,

🦕

*gasps* thank you lovely! I'm so glad you've loved moonwater enough to submit a request!!! sorry this took so long, I had this half finished and couldn't figure out for the life of me how to wrap it up happily, and then I was like "of course! Effie!" - not so much chaos but a lot of hurt/comfort and fluff

~please note: my requests are currently closed as I work through my older ones~

poly!moonwater x fem!reader

CW: toxic/abusive family dynamics, mentions and insinuations of abuse, your parents suck in this - I'm sorry, but just call me Euphemia Potter because you're all my children now

Remus had to admit that he was getting increasingly worried about you and Regulus the closer it got to the summer holidays. It seemed that no matter how much brighter the weather became outside, clouds were determined to follow the two of you around.

Remus only knew why Regulus would perhaps grow tense at the thought of returning to 12 Grimmauld Place on account of Remus’ years’ long friendship with Sirius. But the youngest Black, since reconciling with his older brother, has staunchly refused to discuss family life. Remus could accept that; he understood the gist.

But you, he was at a loss with. Though, he would admit that your occasional flinch at a raised hand or sudden quick movements by either Regulus or Remus spoke volumes on that end.

So here you all were (being Remus, you, Regulus, Sirius, James, Peter, and Lily) sitting by the Black Lake and enjoying the sun on one of the last few days of the school year, and you and Regulus were nearly comatose in your melancholy. 

Lily and Peter were doing their best to pretend they didn’t notice any tension in the group as they busied themselves with a game of wizarding chess, but James and Sirius had no such qualms and were staring hard between Remus and Regulus. 

“I told you that you could come with me, Reggie.” Sirius said surprisingly softly for the oldest Black. Regulus’ jaw twitched as he stole a fleeting glance at James.

“You told me that a year ago. I wasn’t smart enough to go then, I don’t see why I’d deserve that option now.” He muttered, sounding disturbingly more and more like the aristocratic Pureblood he was raised to be.

“It’s not about deserving, Reg.” Sirius said at the same time Remus said, “of course you do.”

“Honestly,” James interjected, “at this point, my mum would be pissed if you didn’t come live with us.”

Regulus’ face appeared to remain impassive, but Remus knew better; there were signs. His jaw tightened, there was a small movement in his left eyebrow and a subtle glossiness in his eyes.

Suddenly his gaze flit to Remus, his eyes almost begging him to understand something he hadn’t yet voiced. Remus held Regulus’ gaze until his eyes turned to something else; to you.

But it didn’t appear that you had heard any of the conversation going on around you; your eyes pointed to some unmarked point in the horizon, your mind far away.

“I can’t leave her.” Regulus whispered once he knew you wouldn’t hear.

“What’s the point of both of you suffering, Regulus? You can’t help her from Grimmauld Place.” Sirius argued. 

Regulus finally groaned, and Remus’ heart clenched knowing how close he was to frustrated tears. Remus felt just as close, feeling completely helpless in this situation. But his parents struggled enough supporting him alone. He knew that if he asked, his mum would have the two of you in a heartbeat, but the Potter’s had the space and funds to do it far more easily. 

“Y/N can come too.” James said plainly.

“Hm?” You hummed quietly, turning your attention back to the group at the sound of your name.

Regulus grimaced slightly but James, either ignorant to body language or choosing to ignore it carried on. “I was just thinking, we’re inviting Regulus to move in with us for the summer. Perhaps you could join us?”

You stared hard at James without breaking eye contact and Remus grew more and more tense the longer you stayed silent.

“It’s good that Regulus is staying with you.” You commented, sounding nearly robotic.

“You could-” Remus began, but you cut him off.

“Don’t, Remus.”

“Amour.” Regulus pleaded quietly.

“Leave it.” You ordered before standing and walking away. 

Regulus sighed and buried his face in his hands. Remus couldn’t stand it anymore and moved to sit beside him, rubbing soothing swipes up and down his spine.

“Your brother is right, love. You’ll be more help to her if you’re safe at Potter Manor. You need to be brave for the both of you right now.”

“She’s never told me either, you know?” Regulus spoke from inside his hands. “I have no idea what happens when she leaves here.”

Remus fought back the tears that threatened to infiltrate his eyes. “You’ll be more help to her from Potter Manor.” He repeated.

You’d been avoiding the boys, that much was certain. And even if you weren’t avoiding them, it was like you weren’t even there when you were sitting right next to them. Remus hated to think that this was the note you were all leaving on, knowing you’d not see each other again until September first. 

Regulus had agreed to stay with the Potters, though he refused to discuss with anyone what was said to his parents (or, perhaps more importantly, what his parents had said in return). 

So, they stood there in Central Hall with their bags and school trunks; James and Sirius arguing over what they were going to do first when they got to the Manor (in an attempt to hopefully lighten the mood for Reggie's sake) while Remus stared at Regulus’ face without pretending that he wasn’t, as his boyfriend stood painfully rigid.

You appeared then, the strap of your duffle bag thrown over your shoulder and your school trunk trailing behind you. Remus didn’t think he’d ever seen you look so forlorn.

It was like a switch was flipped in Regulus, and he went from a soldier standing at attention to cooing over your shorter frame.

“Let me get this, amour. Did you get everything packed okay?” He asked you softly, pulling your duffle bag gently from your shoulder to throw over his own. You barely nodded in acknowledgment, eyes staring at the ground unseeingly. Remus felt sick to his stomach.

“Okay.” Regulus murmured at you quietly, giving Remus a quick shake of his head as he went to move to you. Remus had this overwhelming urge to pick you up and huddle you under his arm, not letting go until you were all the way to Wales – where your family couldn’t get to you.

But Regulus perhaps understood your mindset better than he did.  

“Can Rem take your trunk for you?” Regulus asked, mostly as a means to invite Remus into the conversation and less trying to get him to be your pack mule.

“No.” You said as firmly as you could manage in this fragile state. “I’ve got it. Thank you, though.” You said, finally looking up to make eye contact with Remus and Regulus. 

Regulus, for his part, managed to smile sadly at you. Remus was sure his discontent was written all over his face.

“Ready to get this show on the road? Look at me, sounding all muggle.” Sirius called. One would think he sounded indifferent to what was going on, but Remus (and Regulus) could see this for what it truly was: distraction.

“No.” You whispered.

“What is it, lovie?” Remus asked, turning his attention quickly back to you.

“I’m not, I-” you took a few quick breaths, face scrunching up painfully as your eyes filled with tears. “I’m not ready, I can’t. I can’t go. I’m not...”

“Okay.” Regulus said softly.

“I can’t go back, I can’t - I’m not ready.”

“That’s alright.” Sirius offered just as softly. 

You were disturbingly close to hyperventilating – surveying your surroundings like you were looking for a place to run, looking for a way out. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t.” You cried.

“Then don’t, love.” Remus pleaded. And you broke down into sobs. 

Something inside Remus snapped and he made for you, enveloping you in a hug that was probably far too tight, but you nuzzled impossibly further into his chest anyway as if he could perhaps hold your pieces together as you fell apart.

He’d find a way to do it for you if that’s what you truly needed.

As your gasping sobs ceased and your breathing evened into only the occasional hiccup, James let out a theatrical “Phew.”

“What?” Regulus asked, voice somewhat taut from both protectiveness and frayed nerves. 

“I sort of told my mum she was coming to live with us, anyway.”

Remus could have kissed the sod right on the mouth at that moment. He opted to kiss the top of your head instead. 

“I don’t want-”

“-to be in the way. You won’t be, amour.” Regulus interrupted your train of thought, voice far softer than the one he’d used with James.

“Yeah, Regulus is far more inconveniencing than you are, dollface.” Sirius snarked with a wink, earning him a quick stinging jinx from Regulus. 

If Remus had thought that the hard part was over in Central Hall, he was very wrong.

You had settled not too badly as you all rode the wagons to the train station holding onto Remus’ hand like a vice, and Regulus appeared to be far more comfortable now that he was less worried about you. Regulus undeniably had some abandonment issues, and the thought of going to the Potter’s without you left him with the sense that he would somehow be letting you down. Remus supposed that at least before, the two of you could commiserate together knowing that whatever you were going through, so was the other.

But as the group travelled on, some of your own tension returned the closer you got to Kings Cross Station. 

“You don’t have to say anything to them, you can just leave with us.” Sirius said plainly as Remus reached to grab your bags from the overhead compartment.

“That’d be considered kidnapping.” You responded quietly.

You hooked your duffle over your shoulder and stood, looking through the compartment as if you could somehow see your family through the sheets of metal separating you and Platform 9 ¾.

“Would...would you like us to come with you? Stand by your side? How would you like to do this, love?” Remus asked, leaning back slightly so he could see your face directly. 

You seemed to ponder that for a few moments before returning his gaze. “Maybe...maybe you guys could just, stay a little behind me? Not close enough to say anything or for them to say anything to you, just...”

“Close.” Regulus finished for you. You nodded in response.

“Consider it done, dove.” Remus said and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

James and Sirius spotted the Potter’s quickly after exiting the train and brought your bags and trunks to them so that the Potter’s elves could bring them to the Manor. You watched as your trunk disappeared with a pop; there was no going back now. 

“Y/N.” An indifferent tone called, causing you to stand up straighter, though you didn’t seem ready to turn your gaze towards it yet.

“We’re right here, amour. We’re not leaving without you.” Regulus insisted. Remus wanted to touch you, grab your hand, kiss your cheek, but he knew he’d have to wait until you felt safe.

Safe.

Soon you’d be safe.

True to their words, Regulus and Remus followed you towards your parents who stood poised like models in a Victorian Era portrait, staring down at you over their noses, though the two boys paused a good distance away as you had asked them too.

“I hate this.” Regulus murmured as you said hello to your parents. Your mother turned to leave before you asked them to wait.

“We’ll be able to take her home after this.” Remus placated, but it did nothing to soothe his own nerves either. 

“You’re doing what?” He heard your mother ask derisively. 

You repeated yourself, albeit quieter and more meekly than you had before. Remus wanted to hex her for making you feel so small.

“Absolutely not. Get your things.” Your father barked.

You raised your hand carefully, pointing towards the Potter’s to explain that they’ve already brought your things to their house.

“You insolent little witch. How dare you undermine me like this.” Your father spat and took a menacing step towards you. You stepped back quickly with a full body flinch, and that was it for Remus.

“We’re done. Let’s go.” Remus said authoritatively. “Come on, dove.” 

You needn’t be told twice, allowing Reg to steer you towards the Potter’s as Remus cast a quick muffliato around you to spare you from any trailing remarks your parents made. 

Remus and Regulus exchanged a worried glance over your head as you kept your eyes glued to the floor, letting yourself be guided blindly through the platform.

“Ready to go, dearies?” Euphemia Potter asked kindly, softly, as she beamed at the five students in front of her with Fleamont at her side. Even Remus felt like he had whiplash at the difference of atmosphere on this end of the platform; he couldn’t imagine how you or Reg were managing. 

“Hello, cariad!” Remus heard his mother call before any of you could answer Effie’s question. He turned his gaze to see his parents, Hope and Lyall Lupin, move through the crowds towards them.

“Gangs all here now!” Lyall called, and you tightened your hand currently enclosed safely in Remus’. He gave your three quick squeezes in return: a silent promise of safety. 

“This must be Regulus and Y/N!” His mum cheered, looking awfully close to embracing both of you. However, Regulus’ aristocratic upbringing appeared to save the day as he quickly stepped in front of you and stuck his hand out, bowing politely to her.

“Mrs. Lupin, it’s very nice to finally meet you.” He said, posh accent on full display.

Remus gave a pleading look to his family, knowing his mother was the kind to say “oh, I’m really more of a hugger.”

But apparently, one thing motherly love was very good at was reading the room, and his mum accepted the handshake before his dad, Effie and Monty all got one of their own. You nodded politely and exchanged a quiet ‘hello’ but opted to stay glued to Remus’ side.

He couldn’t say he minded that option entirely. 

Euphemia Potter was no stranger to troubled children showing up at her doorstep, but she couldn’t help but admit how different this time was.

Last year, Sirius showed up battered, beaten, bloodied, and bruised, not to mention completely scared out of his mind. And underneath all of that was this horrible fear for his younger brother’s safety, as well as an overwhelming sense of guilt for leaving him behind.

Sirius never really recovered from feeling like a burden, not last summer at least. He remained entirely too polite for Effie’s tastes, full of “thank you, Mrs. Potter”’s or “that really isn’t necessary”’s right up until the day she sent them off to Hogwarts.

“Now boys.” She said, giving the two troublemakers as stern a face as one Euphemia Potter could muster. “Though I would certainly prefer no trouble at all, can we at least promise not to get quite as many detentions this year? And for the love of Merlin – no more broken bones! I like that when people ask me how my sons are, I can at least say ‘well, at least they’ve got their health!’”

Effie was certain that the pressure behind Sirius’ eyes from fighting the tears must have been excruciating, but he held out for as long as he could before he launched himself into her chest. 

“Thank you, Effie.” He finally whispered through tears.

“Please, Sirius.” She whispered as she stroked the boy’s hair. “Call me mum.”

If last year was full of guilt, grief, and fear, this summer seemed to be full of caution, hope, and love.

Where James spent last summer trying to keep Sirius in as high spirits as possible, this year he got to simply play the role of host. Where Sirius spent last summer trying to stay out of the way and convince himself and everyone around him that he was completely fine, this year he got to show his brother what real family looked like.

And though he saw a lot of Sirius in Regulus, there was so much that was so distinctly him.

Regulus’ trauma came out in impeccable table manners, speaking in a manner far more suited to a member of parliament than a teenaged boy at a casual meal, and assessing the atmosphere in the room with the efficacy of a social weather man. 

But his personality was completely contradictory. 

He made jokes and comments that he didn’t seem to realize were funny until people around him laughed, which caused him to blush but let out surprised laughter of his own. Where Sirius’ jokes were performative and always for the sake of amusing the people around him, Regulus’ humour came naturally and unbiddenly. Where Sirius showed his love and excitement as loudly as possible in order to make sure everyone around him got to share in it, Regulus dutifully handed out his love and excitement in carefully curated doses. 

She loved them both beyond measure.

And you...well, Effie could certainly see how you managed to win over not one but two of her favourite young men. Your trauma seemed to come out in the form of fading into the background. Everything you did, you did quietly. You never asked for anything, whether it be for seconds at dinner, something to drink during the day, or to go into town to shop for supplies.

But even though you were clearly struggling, Effie could see how much you cared for those boys both actively and passively. Your body language seemed to change the second either of them entered a room, their presence’s easing any discomfort you may have been feeling nearly immediately; you smiled brighter, made more eye contact, and even contributed to conversations when one of them was around. Right now they were your confidence, your safe space. Effie hoped to get the chance to see it for herself one day, but she felt unbelievably lucky to get to see it in this way too. 

You always showed up with bottles of water when the boys were outside playing quidditch, somehow knowing Regulus was the kind to completely miss any cues his body gave him of thirst and predicting his needs. And you always brought sunblock out unprompted when Remus would fall asleep with a book over his face, ensuring he wouldn’t burn in the sun. 

She loved you so much.

It had been about two weeks since summer holidays started, and Hope and Lyall Lupin were going to be leaving their mini holiday at Potter Manor in a few days when Effie felt that you had made enough progress to broach the subject. 

“Y/N, dearie. Do you have a moment?” She asked as you and the boys walked in the back door after spending some time down at the lake.

Effie noticed a flicker of concern cross your features, though you readily agreed nonetheless. Remus smiled while Regulus promptly stood at attention.

“Hope’s going to be leaving in a few days, and I was thinking perhaps we could get a shopping trip in before she does.”

At this Hope looked over with a beaming smile. “Oh! I’d so love to go shopping! The shops are not nearly as posh in Cardiff.” 

You looked between the two women uncertainly but began nodding your head. “Erm, yes, sure. What...what are we shopping for?”

“Well, I thought we could go shopping for some clothes.”

You looked absolutely horrified at this. “I have clothes! I brought everything I had from school.”

Effie smiled encouragingly at you. “Yes, and what you had packed for school was appropriate for a Scottish autumn and winter, not for a summer in London.”

Sirius, never one to leave very well alone, piped up at this. “I want to go shopping! Can I come?”

Hope chuckled and ruffled the boy’s long hair. “I think it’d be better just us ladies, hm?”

Sirius pouted at that, but Regulus took pity on his brother. “You can come with me and Fleamont, Sirius.”

Sirius stood abruptly and planted a smacking kiss to the younger boy’s cheek. “You’re officially my favourite sibling.” He declared, earning him an indignant ‘oi!’ from James. 

“Get off of me, you sod.” Regulus grumbled, leaning further into Remus’ side. 

You looked at your two boys then; Remus was smiling at you with a look so full of love and pride it nearly rivaled Effie’s, and Regulus was smiling encouragingly and so sweetly, Effie was certain her blood sugar levels spiked just at the sight.

“That...that would be very nice. Thank you, ladies.” You agreed quietly. You nodded your head in decision, mostly to encourage yourself but Effie was thankful for the effort.

It was hard to imagine a time nearly eighteen years ago that Effie and Monty were heartbroken and struggling to finally have a child of their own. If only they’d know that seventeen years later, their lovely, lovely boy would bring home four more for them to love.

She was simultaneously sad for you, Regulus, and Sirius that you had to grow up in homes that didn’t love you the way you ought to have been, but she was so beyond grateful she got the honour to love you properly, now and for the rest of her life.

As long as Euphemia Potter lived, none of you would ever spend a moment being anything but loved.