#he tried tugging into her hair pins LOL

[veevadoovee]

Frida: "Hey! No touching!"

Deimos: "Hey, hey, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. Those pins are just begging to be touched."

[justauthoring]

that cherished feeling.

it's a feeling you've never felt before, but bakugou shows you just how wonderful it can feel.

a/n: this is the longest oneshot i've ever written and ive been working on this for like a week lol. i really hope you guys enjoy this :)) i love fantasy au's and specifically (1) barbarian!bakugou!

pairing: barbarian!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

word count: 8,010

warnings: parental abuse, death

“Make sure she looks decent enough for him.”

With a frown, you keep your gaze held ahead even as you’re pulled and tugged in all directions without a single care for your own wellbeing. You know to keep silent, hands held tightly before yourself to stop the violent shaking that overwhelms your body caused by the fear that strikes you deep in the heart.

“He’ll be here any moment,” your step-mother continues, voice cruel, “hurry up!” Her words are hissed at the maids that fret around you, bustling about as they pin your hair back and dust makeup across your face to hide the insecurities your mother refuses to let him see. They’ve been at it for hours now, or at least it feels that way, and you’re tired of being poked and prodded at all for the sake of a man who will probably kill you the second he’s done using you.

They’re barbaric..

They fuck and kill and pillage anything within sight.

They’re monsters.

You’ve heard these whispers around the castle your entire life, maids tucked into corners whispering amongst themselves, the cruel words your step-mother has spat to her council plenty of times. Your entire life you’ve heard about how horrible the Adroghar’s are, that they came into power and nobility by killing Kings, Queens, Princes and Princess’ of different lands, stealing money and destroying villages. 

Your entire life, you’ve been terrified of them.

And now, today, you were about to be married off to one – in other words, sold.

Have you heard? The Queen means to sell Y/N off to the King of the Adroghar tribe!

To Bakugou Katsuki? Isn’t he said to be the most ruthless King they’ve ever had in power?

He’ll kill her. Or worse. Certainly.

If it’s for our safety though, I can’t say I care much…

Yes. Our Queen is doing her best to keep us all safe.

Your step-mother has hated you since the day you were born. You were a constant, living, breathing reminder of your father’s indecency towards her and the second he’d died when you were two, she’s made it her goal to remind you of this fact every day of your life. You’ve been beaten, starved, locked away and treated like garbage by every single person you’ve ever known.

You’ve never felt love. Never felt warmth.

Not a single person has ever cared for you.

And now, to stop the Adroghar tribe from trampling on your land, your step-mother has sold you off to appease them. You had no say just like you never have.

“They’re here!”

A knight comes running into the room, flustered as he calls for your mother’s attention. His words make your entire being freeze, breath caught in the back of your throat as the fear makes your muscles tense.

“The Adrogharian tribe is here!”

Everything else happens in the blink of an eye–you’re forced to move, pulled by hands that grip and pinch at you, your corset tightened around your waist and a sheer shawl draped over your face to cover you from view. Before you know it you’re being led into the main hall where quickly the sound of boisterous chatter echoes and bounces around. You keep your head dipped down as your mother ordered you to, hands clasped politely before you as your nails dig and pinch into your skin.

The second the large doors slam behind you, you know your fate is sealed if it hadn’t already been.

Maybe you could’ve run. Maybe you could’ve tried to fight.

But you know it would’ve ended the same either way.

This is how it’s been your entire life.

Your mother stands directly in front of you, blocking you from view, but you let yourself slowly peek upward, through your lashes. You see the tenseness of your mother’s back as she moves to greet your guests, before slowly letting your eyes drift to who will soon be your husband. Katsuki Bakugou. He’s been the King of the Adroghar tribe for a few years now, having taken over after his mother passed–and since then has made quite a name for himself for being one of the most ruthless and cruel Kings to ever grace the Adroghar tribe.

Considering their record of ruthlessness, this fact scared you even more.

He’s tall, buff with wide shoulders and large hands. His hair is a light blonde that sticks out in every direction, unruly on his head and yet it suits his red, piercing eyes that seem as they penetrate your very sole. He’s wearing a cloak lined with fur, his neck decorated with necklaces with what you can only assume is teeth. The fashion of the Adroghar tribe is very different from the customs of your people, as he wears only trousers and no shirt, showing the world his chiseled chest.

He’s both intimidating and terrifying.

“Ah, King Bakugou,” your step-mother calls out, bowing slowly. It’s odd to see your step-mother bend for another, but you also know she’s deathly afraid of the man before her; given that they had the ability to completely wipe all of you out. “Thank you for making the long trip this way.”

Bakugou regards her with narrowed eyes, shoulders set back as he grunts out; “what’s this offer you have for me?”

Your eyes widen, hands clutching your skirt–he didn’t know?

Letting out a nervous laugh, your step-mother nods; “I heard you have yet to take a wife, my King.”

You watch, best you can see, as his lips set into a thin line. “Our traditions are different from your own,” he hisses, “but… yes. I have not.”

“Well, then, my Bakugou, I offer you my daughter in return for the safety of our Kingdom.”

She steps back then, and you tense, nails digging into the palm of your hands hard enough to draw blood as you raise your head just slightly. Bakugou’s eyes fall on you then, narrowed and dark as he regards you, and feels as if he’s peering into your very soul as you stare back at him then.

“Let me see her face.” Bakugou calls, gesturing for you to step forward.

You move to do so, but you can’t get your feet to work. You’re paralyzed with fear, you realize somewhere along the way–terrified of this man in front of you and the men that linger around him, laughing, cheering, all staring at you with the same leering look that fills your stomach with knots and makes it hard to breathe.

You catch your step-mothers gaze when you don’t move and she’s looking at you with wild panic as she gestures for you to step forward.

You can’t.

“Is she mute or just stupid?” Bakugou hisses.

Your eyes widen, and you feel like you might puke.

Your step-mother’s hand is wrapping around your arm in the next second, grip pinching, yanking you forward as a small yelp leaves your lips in response. You’re thrown, losing your footing as you come crashing to your knees directly in front of the King, your step-mother yanking the shawl off of your head in the next second and a new sense of vulnerability washes over you.

Your step-mother had adorned you in incredibly revealing clothing, more skin than you’ve ever shown on display for all of these leering men to see.

Too afraid to raise your head, you let out a whimper, curling into yourself.

You realize your actions could have you killed but you’re too afraid to care.

I’m going to be killed anyway… raped and then killed. What does any of it matter?

A minute passes and then slowly, Bakugou shifts in front of you. Before you know it, he’s kneeling in front of you, and terror strikes at you when you notice his arm move out of the corner of your eyes, flinching, expecting to be hit or worse, maybe he’s reaching for his sword to kill you–but, neither of that happens. You don’t feel pain or a slap across your cheek, instead, the touch is light and gentle despite his coarse skin as Bakugou gently clasps your jaw, moving your gaze upwards and on his own.

It’s the first time you’ve met his gaze head on, but oddly, his eyes don’t seem so intimidating this close.

He stares at you for a moment, a deep frown etched on his face, before his gaze raises, past you and onto your step-mother.

“Do you always treat your own family like this?”

Your eyes widen. Did he just–

“Bu-but my King, she wouldn’t–”

He scoffs, not even letting her finish and your step-mother falls eerily silent as he does. It’s like his entire personality had changed in the split second you’d been thrown to the ground. He shifts, his hands moving to grab you by the arm, but his grip is gentle, just tight enough to pull you up to your feet. You let him, confused and baffled by what was happening, as your arms curl around you to cover yourself, letting him guide you behind him as you turn to face your step-mother.

You don’t see it, too focused on her harsh gaze on you, but something warm is wrapped around your shoulders a moment later and your eyes fall on Bakugou with parted lips as he clasps his cloak around your neck. He doesn’t smile, but his eyes are soft as you grab his cloak gently, gripping the material close to yourself as the warmth envelops you. 

Bakugou turns to face your step-mother, his face dark and his words menacing. “I should have your head for that.”

Her eyes bulge, as do yours—you can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe what’s happening. Never once has anyone stood up for you, and the last person you ever thought that would was the man you’d been sold to. A barbarian. A monster.

Yet, despite everything you’ve been told your entire life, he didn’t didn’t seem like a monster to you at that moment.

Your step-mother sputters over her words, indignation flooding her as she stares back at Bakugou. Then, her eyes drift to yours, gaze cold and steely and you know in that moment, like everything else she’s felt has gone wrong, she blames you entirely.

“She’s just the daughter of a measly prostitute!” Your step-mother bellows, eyes crazed as she loses her composure, voice echoing across the suddenly silent hall. No one says a word as she stands there, huffing with rage. Even Bakugou’s men have fallen eerily silent. 

“She’s just the baby of a whore with not a single claim to the throne,” she laughs, hand reaching out to point towards you. “I was giving you to her as a ruse! She’s nothing more than scum on the underside of my shoe.”

The silence echoes and drags.

It feels like hours of agonizing anticipation as not a single person says anything. You can’t see Bakugou’s face but yours is burning red with the humiliation of your truth being spilled out to everyone, most of all Bakugou. Your step-mother has spent her life reminding you, never once letting you live without hearing similar words in the back of your mind. It wasn’t like your people didn’t know either—maids had spent their life leering down at you and knights had laughed at you anytime you’d drifted past them.

But it’s a new sort of humiliation having it be said in front of Bakugou and his men. 

A minute later, but it feels like eternity, Bakugou finally steps forward. It’s one single step, his wide back thoroughly blocking your view of your step-mother in front of you. It’s one step but he’s standing right in front of your mother, close enough to touch her.

“You should know,” Bakugou starts slowly, voice low. “That your background isn’t a matter of concern in the Adroghar tribe. We don’t care if you’re born from a whore or nobility.”

Your face eases, staring at his bare back.

Then, in the next second, he shifts. It feels like you blink and you miss it. There’s a flash of something red and then the thud of something falling to the ground, before your eyes lower and fall on the head of your step-mother, severed from the rest of her body. Her now lifeless eyes stare back at you, lips left parted from her attempt to scream before Bakugou beheaded her—but she never got the chance. 

“Kill the rest of them,” Bakugou orders, turning to face you, a streak of blood across his cheek.

Everyone?

He wanted to kill everyone?

“Here!”

Small hands are thrust in your face, gripping onto the delicate, beautifully made flower crown and behind the hands, rest a beaming face, staring up at you with twinkling eyes.

“For the princess.”

But– the children…

“P-Please!” You’re speaking before you realize it, your voice squeaking in panic as you step towards Bakugou. Your arm pulls out from beneath the large, heavy cloak he’d draped over you seconds ago, meeting his eyes imploringly. “The v-villagers! The children! Please, spare them.”

Bakugou turns to you, shocked eyes falling on you.

You take his expression as one of anger and with a cry, you fall to your knees, holding your hands out before you. “Please, my K-King. Spare the villagers. They’re… they’re innocent.”

A moment of silence passes. Your face is turned towards the ground, forehead all but pressed against the cold stoned floor, shaking as flashes of that sweet, innocent little girl smiling at you surface in your mind. They don’t deserve to die. You don’t care about the rest of them–not your mother who laid dead and beheaded a few feet in front of you and not the maids or the guards who have leered and laughed and tortured you your entire life. But the villagers–the children don’t deserve to die.

“Spare the villagers,” Bakugou orders, and your eyes widen, the beige of the floor flooding your vision. “But kill the rest.”

He–

“Stand up.” Hands fall on your arms, tugging you back to your feet as you stare at Bakugou bewildered. His face is blank, but there’s a hint of something in his eyes you just can’t quite make out. “If you are to be my Queen, I cannot have you on your knees. Not for anyone, including me.”

It seems the customs of the Adroghar tribe are much different than your own, the thought occurs to you. But it isn’t this fact that baffles you. It’s the fact that he calls you his Queen…

He–he still wants to marry you?

“I was promised a bride,” Bakugou calls out, as if he’d heard your thoughts and it’s the first hint of a smile you see on his face as he glances down at you. “I intend to have one.”

-

You stare at the licks of the fire before you, eyes watching the dance of the flames that heat your cheeks.  

In the dead of the night, Bakugou’s men are as loud as ever. They cheer and laugh around the fire a few feet away from you, some bustling about as they feed the horses and make sure everything is in order for travel tomorrow. 

You’d all only travelled for a few hours before Bakugou had called for you all to stop for rest. His men had seemed confused and you yourself had expected to travel for longer given that it had still been quite bright out at the time–but Bakugou had just brushed off the questioning gazes of his men and had helped you off the horse you’d been riding with him. His grip was gentle as he guided you to your feet, ordered his men to prepare a fire for you and then left you there once it was done.

You hadn’t seen him since.

You held his cloak which was still wrapped around your shoulders tightly, your grip tight as every step that sounded just a little too close made you flinch. You were confused and dazed by the events of the day, still not even sure if you’d properly registered what had happened. Your step-mother was dead, murdered in front of you, and now the rest of your family and all of your servants are dead as well. 

You’d expected Bakugou to reject the marriage at the end of it all but…

I was promised a bride. I intend to have one.

And yet he’d said those words so softly, with an odd warmth to them. Yet, you’d be taken with him as he left your castle, the only home you’ve ever known, placed on his horse right in front of him and now staring at a fire in his people’s camp. Yet, you were meant to follow him all the way back to his home and marry him.

Just how has your life changed so much in such a short amount of time?

“Have you eaten anything?”

Gasping lightly at the voice, your head snaps upwards, wide eyes falling on Bakugou’s. He’s stepping towards you, a plate in his hands as he makes his way to sit beside you on the small cot his men had prepared for you. Your eyes watch as he moves, not having properly registered his question as he takes a seat directly beside you. His leg brushes against your own and you hug his cloak tighter to yourself, body tensing.

“Sorry,” he mumbles gruffly, having caught your reaction. He pulls his leg away and then holds the plate out in front of you. “Are you hungry?”

Your eyes dance across the food on the plate, puzzled by the sight. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before.

“All that’s… for me?”

Bakugou’s eyes flicker to the plate, raising a brow; “yes?”

“O-oh, thank you,” with shaky hands, you grab the plate, setting it down on your lap. You feel Bakugou’s eyes on you as you ponder what to try first. It’s not just the amount of the food on the plate, it looks much different than anything you’ve ever seen back at home. You may not have been fed much and whilst you usually were given scraps, you know that this is very different to the traditional food your people eat.

Tentatively, you reach out, taking a bit of it in between your fingers once you notice the lack of utensils and place it in your mouth. Instantly, you're hit with a wave of flavour you’ve never tasted before. Your eyes widen as the taste floods your entire mouth, eyes gleaming with delight as you let out a small moan without thinking.

Bakugou chuckles beside you.

Your eyes fall on him, cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“Never tried Adrograhian food before, I take it?”

You shake your head, “that and… well, I’ve never had something so… full of flavour.”

Bakugou blinks, the smile fading from his lips as you turn away, trying to ignore the look on his face as you place your attention back on the food. The two of you sit in silence as you eat the rest of the food, perhaps eating faster and bit more messier than Bakugou probably would’ve expected from you–but you’ve never tasted something so decedent nor had so much food to eat all for yourself. 

When he doesn’t punish you the first few times for shoving your mouth full, you figure it’s alright too.

“Thank you,” you call out to him once the food is done, your voice a soft whisper as you smile softly over at him. “Thank you.” You bow your head.

“There’s no need to do that,” Bakugou calls out in a rush, shaking his head. “You don’t… I won’t… hurt you.”

Blinking, you stare at him, lips left parted.

Distantly, you notice red across his cheeks but Bakugou is standing before you can get a better look, pushing himself to his feet before turning, back facing you. “Get some rest,” he grunts, “we have a long day of travel ahead of us tomorrow.”

You watch him walk off, watch as his back grows further and further away, until you’re once again left alone. Except, this time you don’t feel so lonely. 

A small smile curls onto your lips as his words echo in your mind.

I won’t hurt you.

-

Adroghar is beautiful and unlike anything you’ve ever heard.

You’re not sure what you expected, but tall, ornate buildings with intricate and detailed designs across them all are not what you expected. There’s people everywhere, bustling about, and cheers echo as Bakugou comes marching through with the rest of his men, smiles on their faces as they reach out towards him, celebrating his return.

It isn’t barbaric.

And it isn’t poor and littered and destroyed like you expected.

It’s… lively and warm and inviting.

“So, this is the famous daughter of Cassian Heinrich.”

The second Bakugou pulls you off his horse and sets you onto your feet, you’re grabbed by a pair of hands and pulled into a bright smiling face that beams back at you. It’s a woman, her eyes twinkling with delight and her skin pink and her hair the same colour. She’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, and you’re shocked, confused by this sudden demanding presence but yet, as you meet her eyes, there’s only warmth staring back at you.

“Oi,” Bakugou calls out, a hand resting on your shoulder as his other hand moves to the girl and yanks her back. “Don’t bombard her like that.”

“Whatever, Bakugou,” the woman scoffs, brushing him off with a wave of the hand.

Your eyes widen at the action–isn’t he the King?

Just who is this woman to regard him so casually?

You half expect Bakugou to kill her for her lack of respect towards him, but as your eyes flutter toward him, you’re bewildered as he simply just scoffs, a light smile on his head as he shakes his head.

“Mina,” Bakugou calls after a moment.

Mina. What a pretty name.

“Hm?” she hums, eyes flickering lazily to glance at him.

“Could you please help Y/N bathe and find some clothes for her to wear?” Bakugou calls out, gesturing to you. “Make sure to wash that shit off her face.”

You pause at his words, eyes flickering to the ground as you distantly reach towards your face. It wasn’t that you thought you were particularly beautiful, if anything, you’d always thought you were quite ugly and your mother had reminded you often that you were. But… but you’d hoped maybe Bakugou had thought differently.

That maybe he’d seen something in you.

Had the makeup your mother had put you made you look worse?

“You really don’t know how to talk to women, Bakugou,” Mina scoffs, stepping towards her as she pulls her arm, tucking you into her side. You stare at her, blinking, before glancing over at Bakugou who stares back, baffled. “Don’t worry,” Mina sings, smiling brightly at you as you slowly put your attention back on her. “Let’s get you bathed and cleaned, all right?”

You nod, slowly, staring back at Bakugou who watches you leave.

Oddly, you don’t want to leave his side.

-

Mina was chatty.

Very.

The entire time she bathes you, washes your face and hair and dresses you, she barely stops speaking.

It’s comforting, in an odd way. She fills in the silence where you can’t find the words, too overwhelmed by everything to know what to say. 

She’s gentle, too. Where the maids back home had pulled and prodded, sneering at you as they reluctantly helped bathed you–it was rare, only on special occasions where your mother needed you for appearances but you’d always dreaded it. They were cruel and harsh and mean and everything in between.

Mina is none of that.

You even smile as she tells you stories about Bakugou. Apparently the two of them have known each other since they were children–them and a few others that Mina tells you about and assures you’ll meet soon.

Once cleaned, dried and dressed, she politely excuses herself, assuring you Bakugou will arrive shortly. You’re left startled when she distantly informs you that it’s Bakugou’s room you’ve been led to but she’s gone before you can say anything otherwise, so, once again left alone, you take a seat on the edge of his bed, not sure what to do.

Your eyes drift across the room, but you don’t dare move.

His room is rather vacant but large. There’s a huge bed, fur carpets draped across the floors and the bed, some swords lined on the wall and a set of armor tucked away in the corner, along with a desk scattered with papers right across from you. It’s everything you would’ve expected from a man like Bakugou.

Still, it makes you feel like you learn just a little about him.

You jump as the door slams open, body freezing as Bakugou comes barelling in. There's a nasty look on his face and it’s like he doesn’t notice you as he strides right past you, throwing a piece of paper onto the desk across from the bed. Your entire body tenses, shoulders straightening as you hesitate, unsure if you should say something or not.

But before you can make the decision, Bakugou’s red, piercing eyes are on you.

However, in an instant, the anger in his eyes is gone. Instead, his gaze softens, eyes wide with pure shock at the sight of you.

“I… I told Mina to lead you to a spare room,” Bakugou explains, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

You move to stand; “I-I can leave–”

“No,” Bakugou calls out, crossing the distance between you in seconds as he reaches for you. You pause, not daring to move as his hand hovers in front of you, instinctively flinching–he halts the second you do, panicked. Your eyes meet his, and you stare, both of you silent, before your gaze flickers to his hand, and you nod.

His fingers brush against the skin of your cheek, eyes dancing across your face.

“You look… beautiful.”

It’s not what you expected. 

It never would’ve been what you expected.

No… no one has ever called you beautiful.

“They covered you with all that makeup,” he continues, voice soft. “But now that I can really see you… you’re beautiful, Y/N.”

Your eyes stare at his cheeks warming.

“You… you really think that?”

He frowns, “yes,” and there isn’t an ounce of doubt in his voice.

Tentatively, unsure, you raise your hand, setting it over his own. “No one has ever called me that before.”

“Beautiful?”

You nod.

The frown deepens, and Bakugou wants to say more but all he says instead is; “well, you are.”

You smile up at him. Soft, gentle and demure. But there’s so much feeling behind the smile, portraying every bit of emotion Bakugou has made you feel in the short amount of time you've been with him.

“Thank you.”

And he stares back, unsure of the feelings coursing through him–he’d had every intention of denying your mother’s proposal, of slaughtering them all and you included. When he’d first seen you, he’d scoffed at the sight of you, dressed in fine silk that didn’t leave anything to the imagination, your face covered as it was tradition for your people. You’d look skittish, curled into yourself, head bowed and Bakugou couldn’t deny that in that moment, he’d felt nothing.

Not a single thing towards you.

And then your mother had grabbed you and tossed you to his feet, ripping the shawl off your face and Bakugou can’t quite explain it but… something had changed.

Everything had changed.

He thinks back to the conversation he’d had with one of his men just minutes before entering his room, about what was expected of him.

“You must consummate your marriage.”

Bakugou sighs, “I’ve told you, Sero, I have no intention of–”

“Why’d you take her back with us if you had no intention of giving her a child?”

Narrowing his eyes, Bakugou turns to look at the man standing across from him. “Did you expect me to just leave her there? With her family's blood across the walls and no one to take care of her?”

Sero pauses, face twisting into an expression of bewilderment; “I expected you to kill her like the rest of them. She’s just an ordinary human.”

Bakugou can’t rightly explain it but rage seethes through his body at Sero’s word. He’s crossing the distance over to him in seconds, wrapping a hand around the man’s throat and squeezing with a manic look in his face.

“Don’t talk about her like that.”

To his credit, Sero doesn’t falter; “I don’t understand why this girl means so much to you.”

Swallowing thickly, Bakugou huffs, pulling away as he spins, scoffing. “I don’t know,” he mutters, frustrated at his own lack of understanding. Sero was right. You were just an ordinary woman, apparently born from an illegitimate relationship. You had no special qualities, had been raised as a noble by the looks of it–you were skittish and quiet and jumpy and nothing special. 

Bakugou was the King of the Adroghar tribe. He had dragon’s blood coursing through his veins, had strength unheard of and the endurance and ability of a warrior. He’s been raised to be a King, to take charge, to pillage and kill and take what he wants without a single care for anyone else.

Most of all, everyone expected him to pick an Adrogharian woman to marry.

Not a human.

Not you.

“I’m heading to my tent,” Bakugou grunts, “make sure I am left alone.”

“Bakugou?”

Blinking, Bakugou is pulled from his thoughts at the sound of your soft voice calling for him.

He leans back when he realizes you’ve leaned forward, concern etched in your eyes as you stare up at him. It’s instinctive the way his eyes trail lower, and he does it without thought, eyes drifting across your soft, supple skin, taking note of the dress Mina had dressed you in; it was thin, the edges hemmed with lace and rather sheer.

Instantly, he feels his face warm.

You must consummate your marriage tonight.

“You may sleep here tonight,” Bakugou suddenly calls out in a rush, pushing himself off the bed and turning so his back is facing you. “I will sleep somewhere else.”

He’s opening the door before you can say anything, calling out a short ‘goodnight’ over his shoulder before the door slams shut behind him. You jump as he does, lips curving down as he leaves you, once again, all by yourself.

He must’ve been repulsed, you can’t help but think despite his words.

There’s no way a man like him could think you were beautiful.

-

It’s been a few days since Bakugou took you home and you haven’t seen him once since that night.

Your days are mostly spent in the company of Mina and a handful of maids that Bakugou had assigned to you. Despite the sense of familiarity you slowly develop each day, there’s a nag at the back of your mind at Bakugou’s lack of presence–you weren’t sure what you had done, but whatever it had been clearly had been enough to cause him to avoid you.

Today’s the first day Mina has left you alone, with the excuse that there are duties she’s been neglecting that she must attend to. You brush aside her worries, assuring her that it’s alright and spend the first hour of your morning sitting in Bakugou’s room, basically doing nothing. You expected Bakugou to have you assigned to your own room since that first night he left you, given that after all this was his room you were sleeping in–but he never did and still not really knowing your way around the castle completely and not being told otherwise, you remain there.

Then again, the lack of Mina or even your handmaids, makes the experience incredibly more lonely.

You’re bored.

Incredibly so.

So, you ignore the fear striking your heart, still unsure of the limits that were expected of you, and leave his room. The whole thing is one huge maze, but eventually you find yourself outside, tucked away into a huge field lined by a huge forest, with a cave directly in the middle of it. There isn’t a single person around, and everything is entirely silent; you can hear the wind brush through the glass and leaves, can hear your footsteps as you walk and can hear your own heart racing madly against your chest.

It’s beautiful. Everything you’ve seen since arriving here has been beautiful but this… little alcove is gorgeous.

Smiling softly to yourself, you crouch, letting your hands drift across the grass, enjoying the feeling of it against your skin. This is the most freedom you’ve ever felt your entire life and you’ve never been allowed to just explore without the prying eyes of your mother watching your back, staring you down with judgement and hatred.

It’s a new feeling and one you rejoice in, laughing quietly to yourself.

But you’re quickly pulled out of your own little world at the sound of thud, one that rumbles underneath your feet. It causes you to jump, body tensing in fear, head snapping upwards, only for your eyes to fall on… a dragon.

It’s… huge.

It towers over you, a great, large beast that steps out from beneath the confines of the cave, dazzling red scales and eyes that stare right back at you. Oddly, you’re not afraid–you’re frozen in the spot, standing there as it steps towards you, hands limp by your sides and you can’t find it within you to move or walk or do anything but… but you’re not afraid. This dragon could kill you in seconds and it’s one of the most intimidating creatures you’ve ever seen, but you feel comfort as it stares back at you.

You’d known dragons had existed and somewhere in the back of your mind you’d known that the Adrogharian tribe was famous for being dragon tamers–but you’ve never seen one in person.

It… snorts? You’re not sure. Its mouth opens and a noise you’ve never quite heard before comes out, a brush of strong wind hitting you directly in the face, nearly knocking you off your feet.

And then, somehow, you find yourself laughing.

It's the most beautiful creature you’ve ever seen

Distantly wondering if you’re crazy, you step forward, small, tentative steps until you’re directly in front of the dragon. Its snout is within reach, and slowly, you raise your hand, eyes flickering from its snout to its eyes, hesitant, before you let your hand fall on the front of its snout. Your hand barely covers any of the dragon, the sheer size of it massive compared to you but its scales are coarse and rough beneath the soft touch of your fingers.

Then, ever so slightly, you watch as its eyes fall shut and he pushes, gently, toward your hand.

“Oh,” you call softly, “nice to meet you too, dragon. My name is Y/N.”

It lets out a gruff, and you pull back with a laugh as it shakes its head.

“His name is Kirishima.”

A yelp leaves your lips as you spin, eyes falling on that of Bakugou who’s stood in front of you.

Panic strikes you, worried he’ll be mad you left his castle or worse, that you even left his room. Swallowing thickly, you step towards him, hands held out before you; “my K-King, I-I–”

“He normally doesn’t like new faces,” Bakugou cuts in gently, sending you a smile as he steps forward, turning his head towards the dragon. He reaches forward and the dragon, Kirishima, nudges its snout towards Bakugou, knocking into him far more aggressively than he had you. Bakugou barely nudges, staying strongly rooted to the spot as he pats Kirishima, before letting his eyes fall back on you. 

“My King, I just wanted to get some fresh air, I–”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Bakugou assures, “everything within the castle is yours.”

Every tense muscle in your body eases, shoulders falling with disbelief.

“I wanted to introduce you to Kirishima,” Bakugou continues, smiling over at his dragon. “We’ve known each other since we were children. He’s very important to me.”

Letting your eyes fall on Kirishima, you flush; “and you wanted to introduce him to me?”

“Of course,” Bakugou assures with ease, nodding. “Isn’t it normally to share these things with your wife?”

Biting your lip, you glance at your feet; “I wasn’t sure you still… thought of me that way…”

Bakugou frowns, “I apologize for disappearing for a few days. I was preparing a surprise for you.”

Turning to him, surprised, your lips part; “a surprise?”

“Yes,” he smiles gently at you. “For tonight. Mina will help you prepare as well.”

-

“A picnic?”

Bakugou’s cheeks are bright red as he stares back at you.

“Do you not like it?”

Gathering your skirt, you shake your head, moving to sit in front of Bakugou. You’d wondered why Mina had dressed you in such light, airy clothes, a pretty pale pink colour as she fretted over making sure your hair was back and out of your face. It made sense now, you realize, that she’d gone to such lengths.

All for a picnic Bakugou had prepared.

“I love it,” you admit with a gentle smile, voice still quiet as you nod at him. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

“Mina helped me,” he explains, looking entirely too uncomfortable for something that was his plan. He’s sat across from you, one knee up which he rests his arm on, but his face is still burning red and it’s like he can’t meet your gaze properly as he explains. “I know nothing about wooing a woman.”

Before you know it, you’re laughing.

Bakugou’s eyes snap to yours, turning red even further (if that was even possible) as you quickly press your hands to your lips, trying to muffle the giggle.

It doesn’t help.

“Are you laughing at me?” Bakugou asks incredulously, eyes bulging. 

You shake your head, despite how blatant of a lie that is. “I’m sorry,” you apologize, biting your lip as you smile over at him. “It’s just… are you trying to woo me?”

Pausing, Bakugou meets your eyes before quickly turning away. “Maybe,” he mutters, before his shoulders fall. “Yes. Is it working?”

Leaning forward, you shift, brushing your skirt under you as you get more comfortable. “Yes,” you assure. “I just didn’t expect that. Most men would’ve just married me, regardless of whether I wanted to or not.”

Bakugou stares at you. “Is that how it’s like with your people?”

You glance at the array of food, pleasantly happy when you recognize a few fruits you used to love as a little girl–it’s been ages since you’ve been allowed to taste the sweetness of a strawberry.

“Yes,” you explain, as if it’s normal. “If I were… not an illegitimate daughter, I probably would’ve been arranged to marry a few years ago.”

You pause, however, when you see the look of bafflement on Bakugou’s face.

“I mean,” you start, slowly. “That’s why my step-mother reached out to you, remember?”

You watch as Bakugou swallows thickly. “I didn’t know until I got there and I-I… well, what I said… I didn’t mean it.”

Your brows furrow before it clicks in your mind.

I was promised a bride. I intend to have one.

Lips parting, you blink at him owlishly.

“I wouldn’t ever force you to marry me.”

Hands moving to fall in your lap, you force yourself to utter the words; “and… if I said I wanted to?”

Bakugou shifts; “marry me?”

You meet his eyes nervously, nodding. “Yes.”

“Then… I’d say… I’d love to.”

The instant relief that floods you is comforting, the smile curling onto your face once more at his reassurance. “I would be honoured,” you grin over at him, “I’ve felt that way since you took me with you.”

Reaching forward, Bakugou takes your hand in his own; “it’s I who feels honoured.”

-

You were dressed in a beautiful white gown, decorated with lace and delicate designs sewn into the material. It cinched at the waist and reached the floor, with a trail that followed behind you. Your hair had been twisted and braided and pulled up into a hairstyle similar to the ones you used to wear as a little girl. 

It was exactly like the style you’d grown up with and completely different from the Adrogharian traditions you’ve grown accustomed to. The only thing missing was the makeup across the face but you hadn’t argued when Mina had purposely avoided applying any–it brought both comfort and despair to you, staring back at your reflection through the mirror in front of you.

You… felt beautiful.

More than you ever had.

And it reminded you of home–of your childhood and brought a sense of comfort and familiarity to those early years of your life when your father had still been alive, memories of things you didn’t all together remember given how young you were but was a sense of nostalgia you rejoiced in. Before it had all been stolen from you cruelly and your step-mother had made it her goal to ruin you.

In that way, at the same time, it also reminded you of everything that had been stolen from you the second he’d died.

It was bittersweet and yet, it was the sweetest, kindest thing any single person had ever done for you and you cherished it.

“Are you ready?”

Turning to Mina, you nod.

You're led out of the room and down a few halls, until eventually the warm night air surrounds you. The sight before you astonishes you. Rows and rows of Bakugou’s men, all split in the middle where a path of flowers lay and at the end of it rests Bakugou, adorned in a regal shirt and trousers, so opposite of his normal attire. It looks odd on him in the same way he looks incredibly handsome.

And the realization sinks in then.

This is your wedding.

It had come to mind before given the dress but you weren’t sure, especially since Bakugou had talked about it but never beyond that initial conversation. You also figured that the wedding would be done in Adrogharian tradition.

This though? Made everything clear.

You turn to look at Mina who smiles brightly at you, clasping your arm in her own as she slowly starts to lead you down the aisle. Everyone’s eyes are on you, watching you but your attention is solely focused on Bakugou standing in front of you, hands clasped in front of him as he watches you grow closer and closer.

And then, suddenly you’re in front of him.

“Is… all this for me?” You whisper, clasping at your skirt nervously.

“Yes,” he nods, slowly, a nervous expression crossing his face. “Is… is it too much?”

You shake your head; “no,” you smile gently, “no this is… perfect.”

“Good.” His face eases instantly, and then, he tugs at the collar of his shirt. “Because this shirt is incredibly itchy and I’m wearing it for you.”

Despite yourself, you let out a laugh. It bursts from your lips, your hand instantly raising to cover your mouth as you giggle, glancing down at your feet. Bakugou stares at you as you laugh, never having heard the sound before, before he reaches forward, tilting your head upward by the chin.

He’s smiling gently down at you, his gaze the softest you’ve ever seen.

“Shall we get married?”

-

His touch is gentle–hesitant.

You can hear every breath he takes as you stare up at him, hands hovering before yourself.

“I don’t want to pressure you,” he whispers, using his arm to hold himself up. You’re splayed across his bed, the sleeve of your wedding dress slipping down the side of your shoulder, revealing bare skin that stares up at him mockingly. 

He wants you–but he won’t force you.

Pressing your hands against his chest, you try to ignore the shake of your body; “it’s not… that I don’t want to,” you confess despite the flush across your cheeks and the heat soaring through your body. “I just… I’m afraid.”

“Of me?”

And his voice comes out quiet, scared. You barely catch it but it’s there, eyes flickering up to meet him as he stares back at you, concern etched into his face.

“No,” you assure, shaking your head. “No, not of you.”

He leans back, shifting so he’s sat back and you follow his movements, pushing yourself up to face him properly. Your hands fall limp in your lap as you stare down at them, clutching at your skin tightly as nerves well inside of you, make your chest tighten and your body tense with anxiety.

“Then…”

“My K-King–”

“Katsuki,” he cuts in, reaching for you. “Call me Katsuki.”

You pause. “Katsuki… before you, I'd never known love.” The words are uttered with pain, hands moving to hold yourself as you turn away from him, embarrassed. But you wanted him to know. Wanted him to understand. “My father died when I was just a little girl and the second he was gone, my mother spent the rest of my life torturing me. I was tucked away, kept hidden from people while she beat me, starved me and told me how I would… never measure up to anything.

“The day you came, she had every intention of selling me to you as a bargain piece for the safety of herself. And she expected you to kill me.”

Licking your lips, you turn to face him.

“That or worse.”

He stares at you, lips left parted with the hesitance of uncertainty. 

“I expected the same,” you whisper, “but now I know you’re not like that. That you’re not some ruthless, barbaric man but you have a heart and your people love you. You’ve given me more happiness than I’ve ever felt and made me feel love for the first time since my father died… I’m not scared of you, I’m scared that once you see me–truly see me, I’ll lose you.”

There’s a beat of silence before Bakugou is leaning towards you. His hands fall on your waist and suddenly you’re falling back against the bed with a light huff of shock, eyes flickering up to meet his own that hover above you. He’s smiling, you realize, but there’s anger in his eyes–yet, it’s not directed at you.

There’s rage burning in his irises and you feel safe because of it.

“You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” he confesses. “The second I saw your face that day, my world lit up. I want to kill every person who’s ever hurt you, if I haven’t already. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to make you forget about everything.”

You feel your heart quicken, his words echoing in your mind as you stare up at him and see only sincerity staring back at you.

His words are warm and loving and they make you feel like your skin is on fire, a lit with a sensation you’ve never felt. Love pours from his words and he stares at you like you’re the only person that matters–that you're the only person who exists in this world for him.

He envelopes you completely and you relish in it.

“Nothing could ever make me think otherwise.”

Reaching up, you cup his cheeks, fingers brushing against the skin before holding him, the edges of your lips quirked up with a soft, gentle smile..

“You really mean that?”

He nods, thumbs pressing into the pads of your hips, as his eyes dance across your face. “More than anything.”

“Okay then,” you laugh lightly, “then I give myself to you.”

He blinks, lips parting.

“Everything.”

And the surprise fades, replaced by pleasure as he leans forward, the ghost of his lips brushing against your own.

“And I give you the same in return.”

[evielmostdefinitely]

But imagine, snow in his peacekeeper buzzcut era with bratty capitol!reader who keeps dropping remarks about how much she misses his soft curls. “It’s such a crime what they did to your hair, it was so beautiful, made you look like an angel” and offhandedly mentioning that so and so looks so good with their thick fluffy hair or that if only his hair was longer she’d love to brush it. But then tries to placate him (but actually makes it worse) with “but don’t worry! You still look good!” And he can’t do anything cause it’s not like he’ll go out and buy a wig lol

decided to do a lil blurb of this bc i think it's so cute haha <3

"Well, it's certainly..." You hesitated, tilting your head to the side, lip rolling between your teeth. "Different."

Coriolanus scoffed, annoyed, running a hand through his freshly shaved hair, short- very short. "It's just hair."

"But you had such beautiful curls, Coryo." Your voice is edging on the cusps of a whine. "Why would you do this to them?"

"I didn't have a choice." Coryo snapped. "It's required of the Peacekeepers."

You pout behind him, lip jutted, arms crossed. "I don't know why you don't just let my father talk to them." You sigh. "You don't have to do this. He could get you out of it-"

"-And then he'd know what I've done." Coriolanus huffed, cheeks burning with embarrassment. "That I helped that-that wretched girl. That I was manipulated to help her win." You softened at his words, even as they were hateful. You knew he was disappointed in himself, embarrassed.

You sat behind him, a hand running over the short pieces of hair. Your nails raked lightly over his scalp, and he still leaned into your touch. You were glad he still did that, even with the short hair. Coryo used to love the feeling of your fingers raking though his curls.

"What am I to hold on to now?" You pouted, a soft sigh as you looked at the blonde buzzcut.

Coryo turned, brow quipped curiously. Your hands ran through his scalp, closing around nothing for emphasis. Golden locks you used to tug at, pull into you while Coryo made you feel so good.

Your eyes rounded softly, biting back a tiny grin at the provocative suggestion behind your words. "There's nothing for me to grab at."

Coriolanus' eyes darkened, lips tugging upward in a salacious, curling grin. His body slid over yours, pinning you between his hips. "Tug on my ears if you must." He growled, nipping at your jaw playfully, smug at how you squealed.

"Or maybe you should keep your hands to yourself?" He hummed, brow quipping darkly, sliding down the length of your body.

You sighed, settling into the mattress beneath you, chin tucking to look down your torso at him, settled between your legs. "There's no fun in that, darling." You grinned, raking your nails over his scalp, his pillowy lips kissing at the soft flesh of your thighs.

[joelswritingmistress]

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 32

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible. 

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader 

WARNING: Extra Smut in this chapter (I'm snowed and this is what came to mind lol)

There was a place between dreaming and awake that I gave in to Dr. Miller’s sleepy sexual advances. His palm cupped my inner thigh and teeth latched onto my earlobe. 

At first I thought I was dreaming and I hummed a little moan as I semi-consciously pushed his hand between my legs.

“I want you,” he growled from behind me. I could feel his erection against my back as his fingers moved up and down my center. Within seconds I could tell his fingers were coated with my wetness. He felt it too.

That was when I rolled onto my back, submitting to him fully as he wasted no time climbing on top of me, kissing me roughly in the process. It took my brain a second or two to catch up, but I kissed him back just as hard; just as needy.

He parted my legs with his knee and reached for my hands, pinning them both down on the pillow. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” Dr. Miller demanded in a whisper.

I did as he asked and bit down on my bottom lip when he pushed inside of me. I whispered his name back to him and moaned out loud when he thrusted into me, still pinning me down.

I wanted to wrap my arms around him, but instead I just squeezed his hands, digging my nails into him as my thighs tightened around his hips. He released one of my hands to place his thumb in my mouth and I watched his eyes stalking my tongue’s every move as I swirled around the tip

When I tried to hug his body to mine, he quickly pinned my hand back down and my eyes closed from the immediate lack of control. Fuck, why did this sort of thing turn me on so badly.

His lips touched mine as he spoke. “Hands and knees, baby.”

When his cock left my body my eyes snapped open. “Don't stop,” I begged. When his hands released mine, I tried to pull him back to me; but he grabbed me first and positioned me on the bed in front of him on all fours.

Fuck, this man will be the death of me.

Dr. Miller reached to turn on the small lamp by the bed and then repositioned himself behind me, wrapping his arm around my waist and joining himself back to me with one swift movement. He motioned with his free arm straight head toward a mirror a few feet from the bed. Our eyes met in the reflection.

“Look at Daddy,” he whispered in my ear.

Oh. My. God.

Dr Miller thrusted into me and I moaned and closed my eyes, gripping the comforter with both of my fists.

His free hand gripped a fistful of my hair and he pulled me back gently. “I said look at me.”

I swallowed hard, completely and willingly at his mercy. “Yes, professor,” I choked out, hoping my dirty talk back was what he was looking for. I was a novice at this, he was a professional.

“Good girl.” Dr. Miller loosened his grip on my hair but still held it firmly. The other arm remained wrapped around my waist as he moved in and out of my aching pussy from behind.

His lips traveled down my neck and his gaze never left mine in the mirror as he worked his tongue and teeth against my sensitive skin. Each time I went to close my eyes from the pleasure, Dr. Miller gave a tug on my hair.

My whole body trembled with pleasure each time he spoke to me in a way that perfectly narrated what he was doing to me.

Good girl. Take it for Daddy.. Say, yes Dr. Miller. Keep looking at me like that. That’s it. Look at you, baby. Who’s my beautiful girl?

My mind was spinning and my thighs were shaking and tightening as I felt ready to explode. This was new. This was something I never knew I needed.

“Fuck, I’m gunna come.” I’d never said those words quite like that, but I shouted them as he urged me on from behind.

Dr. Miller laid his chest on my back, continuing to thrust as one hand cupped my breast. The other held the bottom half of my face and we locked eyes in the mirror again. “Come for me, baby girl.”

I moaned, feeling the start of my orgasm.

“Come on.”

My eyes pressed shut. I couldn’t help it. My hand clawed at his over my breast and I arched my neck back as much as I could from the way his hand grasped my face.

I had never felt anything like it. Even from him. This was, without a doubt, the most erotic sex I had ever had. I was seeing stars, and he never stopped talking in my ear. Never stopped encouraging me to indulge in every subsequent explosion that seemed to be infinite and left me crying out.

What was happening? This was different - in the best of ways.

He let his hand fall to my inner thigh, cursing as he brought his saturated hand up into our line of vision.

“Mmm.. fuck.. baby..,” Dr. Miller’s hands abruptly fell to my hips and he held me hard, thrusting two or three more times erratically before finishing with the intensity of ten men.

I still wasn’t over it. My own pleasure lingered with each pump of his hips, sending me into a final chorus of moans.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck.

I wouldn’t be able to stand when the morning came. My entire body was shot; spent. When Dr. Miller slowed his pace, he never pulled out of me. He just breathed in my ear and gently kissed my face and neck.

I let a hand drop below my waist, soothing myself as I finally began to come down off the intense high of the moment. But, I wasn’t there yet. My head was still spinning. I closed my eyes and placed both hands over his, hugging my body and his arms that were around me.

“Fuck, what happened?” I asked, breathing heavily. I moaned from just the slightest, most innocent movement of him inside of me.

“Are you okay?” He breathed the words into my ear.

“Mmm-hmm.” I swallowed hard and melted back into him as he continued to pamper me with kisses.

“Was that too much?”

“No,” I answered right away. “No.. that was..” I let out a deep sigh. I didn’t have the words to put into a full sentence.

“What I was saying wasn’t too much?”

“That was the best sex we’ve ever had.” I might as well just say it. It was. And I wanted more of it.

Dr. Miller let out one of his quiet, wicked laughs and then nipped at my earlobe again. “Has that ever happened to you before?”

“What happened?” I turned partway to look at him and he finally pulled out of me. It made me sigh and close my eyes.

He took my hand and placed it down on the damp sheets. There was practically a puddle there.  I realized that was all from me. I felt a quick wave of embarrassment, but he quickly put that fire out.

“Oh my God. What.. why.. I-”

Dr. Miller chuckled and tucked his fingers beneath my chin. “It happens sometimes.” He pressed against mine. “When two people connect just right.” His tongue penetrated my lips and my hand found his cheek in our brief, lazy makeout session.

I had never squirted before. I didn’t even know how to do that. I thought I knew why it happened, but I wasn’t even sure about that.

That explains that extra intensity, I thought.

I took a deep breath and looked down again as our lips parted.

“Hey.” Dr. Miller held my face gently again, a complete contrast to the way he manhandled me a minute or two before. He smirked, “It’s okay.”

I smiled back at him and let my body and mind relax. “You should talk to me like that every time.”

“Mmm,” he kissed me again and pulled me down to lay on his chest.

After a few minutes of silence I finally spoke again, basking in the afterglow of our love making. “That was so good. Another level good.”

Dr. Miller chuckled and sighed. He kissed my forehead.

“I feel like there’s a lot I don’t know,” I said to him, smiling wide as our eyes met from a few inches away. I added, “Yet.”

“Well.. I’d be happy to teach you.

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

[ughgoaway]

Ok I just had an adorable thought. What if Annie asked Matty to play hairdresser and he said yes, which usually is just putting clips and ribbons in his hair and brushing it. But this time she's got hold of some scissors, maybe brought them home from school in her bag, and she cuts off the curls right at the front of his head so he has no choice but to get the buzz cut.

🎄

oh my goddddd that is so fucking funny. I can very much see that happening!!! we all know Annie loves playing hairdresser, so it doesn't seem that crazy that she would commit to the role lol

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

Annie thinks if he has a meeting, it's the perfect time to make his hair really different...

as soon as Annie runs in the door after school, she's asking to play hairdresser, matty has a meeting in an hour, so he says yes but tells her it has to be quick. She had gotten some new hair ties recently with little bows on them and was over the moon with them, so matty assumed that's why she was so excited.

he was very wrong.

you'd been making paper snowflakes today in school and teaching the kids how to use scissors correctly, so Annie took it upon herself to just... borrow some scissors - what could go wrong?

when Annie comes back with her little box of supplies and her school bag, matty doesn't question it. he just plops on the floor and prepares himself for a lot of tugging and pinning.

it starts off the same as it always does, Annie brushing some curls and pinning bits back. he feels the familiar hair clips and smiles at her careful placement. he hears her school bag unzip, but assumes she's just grabbing some bits that she left in her bag.

until he hears a very loud *snip* followed by nervous giggles and a gasp.

he spins around in shock at the noise and is met with Annie looking at him open-mouthed, a pair of scissors in one hand and a pile of curls in the other.

"No. no, no, no, please no. ohmygod-" matty runs to the bathroom and twists his head as much as he can in the mirror. and there it is, a massive boderline bald patch on the side of his head.

"fucking hell" he mummers to himself, pulling at the short strands of hair that remain.

"Daddy?" he hears a meek voice from the doorway speak and turns to see Annie standing there with tears in her eyes and a shaking lip.

fuck. he knows he's meant to hold in reactions like this around her, but his hair was such a massive part of his identity that he didn't even think before running off swearing.

"No, no, don't worry, baby, it's okay! it's fine!" matty says, crouching down and grabbing Annie's hands in his own. He quickly grabs the scissors and places them on the bathroom sink. he tries not to wince when he does the same with the pile of his hair, but can't help when his face scrunches a little bit.

seeing that obviously made Annie break into tears, sobbing and burying her head in mattys neck as she throws her arms around him. she's blubbering an apology, or at least trying to, "I'm so- sorr- sorry"

matty is shushing her and rubbing his hand up and down her back slowly, trying to keep her breathing even.

Once she's calmed down a little, she pulls her head out with a sniffle and looks at matty properly. she puts her hand up and plays with the short hair on the side, "wanted to do your hair properly, daddy," she explains.

matty nods and grabs her hand from his head, holding it gently as he talks, "I know baby, but playing with scissors isn't safe, okay? luckily, I'm okay. I just need a bit of a haircut, but you need to be careful, peanut."

when he joins the Zoom call a little bit later, all the boy's jaws drop at mattys shaved head.

she nods sadly, and mattys heart hurts at how obviously guilty she feels. He's determined to make her feel better, so he smiles and tickles her stomach, making her burst out in giggles immediately. he doesn't stop until the tears streaming down her cheeks are from laughing rather than sadness.

///////

george is the first to break the silence, "mate, are you going through another mid-life crisis?" Ross immediately bursts out laughing, and Hann still can't wipe the shocked look off his face.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. look, Annie got a little trigger happy with the scissors, so this is gonna be the look for a little while"

when he drops Annie off at school the next day, he is dreading your reaction. You'd recently started seeing each other in secret, and you had made it VERY clear his curls were one of your fav parts of him.

of course, this just makes them all laugh harder, and mattys finger hovers over the hang-up button. but luckily, they eventually stop cackling and start actually planning things. when Jamie joins 15 mins later, he just sighs heavily and doesn't say anything, used to mattys antics.

/////

so when you turn around to see him, your knees almost give out from under you. your eyes widen, and matty gives you a warning look, flicking his eyes down to Annie and shaking his head very slowly.

"oh hello you two! I like the um- new hair, Mr. Healy." Your voice is strained, and matty can see right through the fake smile painted on your face.

Annie giggles and quickly takes credit, "I did it miss y/n!!" she says happily, and it's then matty hands back the pair of scissors she stole yesterday. your eyes widen again, and you mouth "sorry" to matty, who just waves you off before running his fingers through his hair, or lack thereof.

"Go on in peanut, I'll see you after school - okay?" matty pats Annie's back, and she quite happily runs off into the classroom.

luckily, matty is always late to school, so the playground is empty for you to mourn the curls.

"ohmygod. what has she DONE? I miss them already :((((" you pout, putting your hands on the side of his head and pulling at what little hair he has.

"I know. As soon as she did it, i knew you wouldn't be happy." he smiles as you study his head, pouting the longer you look at it. its then matty starts to get a little self-conscious. Would you break up with him over something as trivial as hair? would it even be a breakup? you guys aren't official or anything, so he couldn't even really be upset if you stopped seeing him.

"Lucky you've got such a pretty face. Otherwise, you could never get away with this," you smile, accidentally reassuring matty. you move your hands to cup his cheeks, feeling them grow hot under your hands at the compliment.

matty twists his hands and presses a kiss to your palm quickly, smiling the whole time. "Ah, says you, you've got the prettiest face." he grins and goes to pull you in by the waist for a quick kiss, but a far away door banging pulls you two away from each other like you've been electrocuted.

"Right, I better go teach," you say, turning around to open your classroom door. You turn back with a crestfallen look, and matty quickly asks, "What's wrong, baby?"

he's shocked you're still able to wrong foot him when he feels like he knows you so well, he grins and spins around to walk to the car, and the smile doesn't leave his lips all day.

you pout and say, "just realised I have nothing to pull at now in bed. you better start taking some hair growth pills asap" you wink and shut the door behind you, giving matty a cheeky wave as you do.

(or it lasts until he gets to the studio and Ross makes fun of him for joining the bald brigade)

[saltygilmores]

THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS-SEASON 3, EPISODE 1: LAZY HAZY CRAZY DAYS (PART 3)

We now return to your regulary scheduled Paris Geller Nuclear Anxiety Attack, already in progress. Parts 1&2 and all other episodes can be found in my pinned post.

"Just to end up on a date with a guy without a Zagat and we end up in a restaurant that's just a front for a cocaine ring?" But enough about Luke's Diner. I KID I KID!! It was too easy. All the money laundering is going on next door at Doose's. Paris thought Luke's was a front for prostitution, though.

Paris asks the girl who is dating Dean Forrester how a person knows they're compatible with someone else, which is funny because nobody has figured out why Dean and Rory are still together. Here's a full list of the things Rory considers when it comes to compatiblity: 1.Someone who reads the same books, watches the same movies, and likes the same music 2.But someone who is not boring 3.You respect each other's opinions 4.You laugh at the same jokes 5. Someone who is not boring again Girly is definitely not talking about Dean Forrester. Dean can't read, doesn't listen to music, and in order for him to agree to watch a movie Rory wants to see, it involves 14 rounds of negotiations, he has never respected her opinions, he has never laughed at her jokes or made her laugh plus Rory's got that dreamy Thinking About Jess Mariano look in her eyes. Actually, let's face it, she's thinking about how much she loves Jess and how much she loves Paris simulatenously. The Throuple of all our dreams.

Oh, the way Paris looks at Rory, while Rory tenderly brushes her hair. Jamie who?

But she's already there. She's already there. AmyShermanPalladino has never met a "Get in the closet" joke she didn't like, but the timing of this one was just, ugh, impeccable. (Of course, there's another famous Closet Shoving coming up later in this season). Even though Jamey WhiteBread has known Rory for weeks, Paris worries that in the right light, Rory's breathtaking good looks will knock Nyquil off his feet and make him forget Paris exists. Okay, sure.

STOP I NEED AIR.

Go away, you bozo! Take your fucking Zagat guide and your dorky restaurant reservation and scram! Meawhile, Rory has retreated so deep in the closet that no light can penetrate it. She continues to pen her totally non sexual, non aching Letters to Jess.

Meanwhile back in The Heterosexual Hollow, Sookie and Lorelai continue to let the gay jokes fly and discuss a hetereosexual wedding that did not come to fruition. Richard and Emily have been away for the entire summer in Martha's Vineyard and they don't know that Lor and Crusty went kaput.

If this took place in 2023, Sookie would love Tinder.

Welcome to BizzaroLand Airport, which is probably a leftover set that once stood in for a doctor's waiting room. The tiniest and cleanest airport with minimal security a year after 9/11.

LOL, Lorelai's gonna catch a felony. You love to see it. Lock her up.

I need a moment to pay my respect for phone booths whenever I see them.

I need a moment to pay my respects for any rare moment of self awareness from Lorelai Gilmore whenever I see one. Now get your daughter into some fucking therapy.

Peaches and Herb are the 70's duo behind the sensual song "Reunited". (look it up; you've likely heard it before). So, let me get this straight: your kid's been gone for the entire summer and the first thing you think about upon her return is "Gee, I bet Rory's been just aching to give Dean Forrester a mediocre handy on my living room couch all summer, let me just roll out the welcome mat, give her my full blessing, arrange her schedule for her and even suggest a sensual musical selection." Between this and Rory persistently asking her mother about naked Luke in this episode (twice), we need to establish some hard parent-child boundaries here,okay? If Jess even deigns to hope for a little tug from Rory, Lorelai tries to decaptiate him. Luckily for him, he has now known the pleasures of Shane Shane the Handy Queen, She Has Jess, Rory Has Dean. Handjob jokes are really funny to me, because inside of me beats the heart of a 12 year old boy, or the heart of Beavis and or Butthead. Expect a lot of them going forward now that Handy Shane has entered the picture. Where is that goverment agent that almost arrested Lorelai, and his dog that's trained to attack on command, when you need him? Obviously, Lorelai had been lying to Emily about the date of Rory's arrival in order to spring Rory from FND so that's good, much better use of her time that trying to pimp Rory out to Dean and agitating agents of the United States Goverment a year after 9/11. (this episode aired on September 24th, 2002). Lor: I lied to my parents, which proves my deep love for you, I just wanted you to have one night of happiness. Only in Lorelai Gilmore's world would spending an evening with Dean Forrester be classified as a "night of happiness." Even the night of Dean's birth wasn't a night of happiness for Dean's parents. When Dean was born his mom tried to shove him back in. I really hate Dean. Anyway. Back at home Rory and Lorelai are discussing Crusty business. Both ladies are on a Crusty Freeze, as it appears they've been ignorning his calls and messages. So Lorelai has been freezing out Luke AND Crusty the whole summer. Their lives are probably a lot more peaceful now. Lorelai is anxious that she will have to break the news of Crusty's absence to the parents later and Rory offers to come along and distract them. Instead, Lorelai declines her services. Lorelai Gilmore, Go More than 15 Seconds Without Talking About Dean Challenge. And...GO!

Challenge failed, you lose, do not pass go, do not collect $200, no consolation prize, thanks for playing, please shut up. We learn that Lorelai has managed to avoid eating at Luke's all summer by taking shortcuts through bushes and eating at Al's Pancake World instead. Will it ever occur to her there are other restaurants just outside The Hetereosexual Hollow she could patronize? LIke an IHOP or something?

The gilly girls stop by S&J's and find them fighting amongst an antique explosion. LOL. This is pretty funny. Later they'll have lots of newlywed makeup sex with the giant bear watching over them. Then we're FINALLY off to the festival. See you for part 4.

[lightning-writes]

good heart (faulty machine of a man) - 14/30

fic summary: bucky meets someone at therapy

chapter summary: bucky tries to find support (alternatively, bucky is a big flirt)

word count: 1880

tags: post endgame, pre tfatws, slow burn, canon divergent, canon compliant, au

warnings: suicide mention, panic attack

a/n: flirty!bucky will never not be my fav!

AO3 MASTERLIST X

At his hearing, Bucky was told that missing therapy is like missing a parole meeting. So, when Raynor allows him to miss their session, it feels like a trap. In a way, it is, because she tells him that she wants him to attend a support group instead and have the moderator sign a form.

“A support group for what?” he’d asked on the phone that morning.

“Pick a trauma.” When he protests and tries to think of a way out of it, Raynor has thought of all the excuses and tricks. “James, just try it.”

She sends him an email with a list of locations and the types of groups she thinks might be helpful to him. He sees one in a school in Greenpoint and decides this is the one.

Rue: hey 4:13 pm

Rue: you’re not on the appt book 4:13 pm

Rue: are you okay 4:14 pm

Rue: is that allowed 4:14 pm

Rue: are you on some sort of avengers mission lol 4:17 pm

Rue: no offense but are there even avengers anymore? 4:39 pm

Rue: i mean ig there’s clint but that’s it? 4:41 pm

Bucky: Raynor is making me go to a support group 5:30 pm

Bucky: Sorry, I just got off the train 5:35 pm

Bucky: I just got here gtg 5:49 pm

Rue: good luck 5:52 pm

After he surveys the school, exits and such, he steps into the back of the meeting. It’s in a large classroom, looks like a music room, and all the chairs face the front of the classroom, toward a podium. The person talking, a short woman with short hair, falters mid sentence when she sees him. He averts his eyes from the few turning to him now, tugging his cap down lower. He finds a seat in the back. She’s talking about her late sister, who was killed by a drunk driver.

“Thank you for sharing, Tessa.” Another woman stands, addressing the room. She looks like a shrink, flowing beige cardigan and pants, braids pinned in a crown. “Does anyone else want to share?” No one volunteers. “Hank, you mentioned something before the meeting. Would you like to share that with everyone else?”

Hank, a man in his sixties, hesitates before hauling himself to his feet. His foot. He has a prosthetic and a cane. The metal clicking sound as he walks to the front feels familiar to Bucky.

“Hey everyone.”

“Hi Hank,” the room greets.

“I’d been coming to this group since my Carrie passed, but uh, another one bites the dust.” His laugh is weak, but some people humor him. “My buddy, Reese, he… he took his life this past Sunday.”

People murmur condolences. Bucky studies Hank, the way his breathing is labored, the downcast of his eyes, the way he clutches his cane and leans into its support.

“We served together,” Hank starts. “He was something of a superstar… and a real people’s person. Every commanding officer loved him like their own son… and he’s the reason I’m still here.” Hank pats his metal leg. “You know, out of all of us, Reese seemed to be the last person we’d ever think there was something going on. He,” his voice breaks as tears start rolling down his leather face, “he re-integrated the best out of all of us. His girl, Maggie, had been his rock overseas and the reason he made it this far.”

(A flash of… something rises in Bucky. He feels his skin prickle with it. He pushes it down. He doesn’t know how much more of this he can handle.)

“Reese was one of the people, uh, ‘dusted’, they say, and when he returned, he found out he had cancer. Lung cancer.” Hank is openly crying now. “And he… he didn’t want to be a burden to ol’ Maggie, so he…”

The group therapy gets up and puts a steady hand on Hank’s shaking shoulder. She whispers something in his ear, her hand moving against his back. He nods, taking the back of his hand to wipe his face.

“Reese was my hero, my brother. It feels like a piece of me is missing, and now I’m left with no one.”

The therapist starts to say something to the whole group about social support and emergency resources, but Bucky’s out in the hall before he hears the end. He blindly opens his phone, to check the time, but clicks the notification.

Rue: you wanna get dinner? 6:45 pm

(He goes to type his answer, but his fingers are trembling. Memories of Steve ebb through his mind, waves of nostalgia and grief and bitter hurt chasing them. He barrels out of the hall, into the playground area.)

“Bucky?” he hears in his hands. Dilated eyes land on his phone. He realizes he called her. He puts the phone to his ear. “Bucky, are you okay?”

(His voice is unreliable. His chest tightens. He’s embarrassed. He’s panicked.)

“James,” Rue prompts softly, “draw a square with your finger. On a table, on your leg, on the floor. Are you doing it?”

He sits on the asphalt, near a seesaw, and runs his trembling finger against the ground. The grit under his skin feels good.

“I’m going to assume yes,” her voice is light. “On the down stroke, inhale… when you go across, hold that breath. On the up stroke exhale… when you go across, hold again.”

He hears her lead by breathing in the same pattern. It reminds him of the first time they officially met. He follows silently. She tells him to keep drawing the square, to focus on the way his chest rises and falls, to focus on his feeling under his finger as he draws.

“You’re safe, Bucky,” she whispers. He takes a shaky breath. “You with me, old man?” He huffs a chuckle, hearing the smile in her voice. “Where are you? Let me meet you.”

////

“God, you are so intense.”

Bucky looks to his left and sees Rue. She’s wearing all black - black coat over black sweater, black jeans, and combat boots - but an easy smile. Her face is fresh and pink from the cold.

(It’s only on the way back to the subway, he realizes they’d been matching.)

“You’re so…” She tilts her head down, looks through her brows, and devoids her features of amusement.

“I’m vigilant.”

“You’re off the clock.” She loops her arm through his. “C’mon, I’m craving a burger.”

They find themselves in a chain burger place, where Rue flirts with the young cashier. His already ruddy face reddens more. Bucky sees her wink at him as she tips him.

“Do you flirt with everyone?”

(The question surprises them both, but he sees the delight in her dark eyes.)

“Are you jealous, James?” Her eyes search his unyielding face. “I’d flirt with you, but I don’t think you’d be able to handle it.”

“I could keep up.” Her eyebrows shoot up at his sure tone; he shrugs.

(There’s a shift between them, he notices, and it’s easier. It’s like they broke through the seal of whatever held either of them back. He’s not sure whether it’s their vulnerability or all events leading to this moment, but he’s not complaining.)

The waitress running out orders passes them, skirt flitting past. Bucky notices her legs.

“Okay, ladies’ man.” He knows his answer made her falter. Or maybe, she caught him checking out the waitress. “Show me what you’ve got, then.”

“Well, that would be inappropriate,” he says, putting on a pious tone. He gives her a teasing look. “HIPAA and all that.”

“Right,” she drawls. She looks unfazed, but he wonders if that’s a mask. She spots something over his shoulder, so she says, “Flirt with the server. If you get her number, it’ll prove you still got the moves.”

Bucky stares at her a second too long. Rue doesn’t flinch.

“I’m not going to flirt with someone unsolicited.”

“Trust me, it’ll be solicited.” 

(Bucky raises an eyebrow. Are you saying she’ll be interested or are you saying you’d be interested? he thinks)

She raises one back. “Unless you’re scared.”

Bucky heaves a sigh and rolls his eyes. He might be acting accosted by this whole affair, but his interest is finally piqued.

(He finally feels powerful, knowing this is an area in which he excels.)

He glances over at the waitress again. She seems about the same age as Rue. Her long thin braids are pulled back and held with a bright green elastic. She has a bright smile as she interacts with a family of three, parents and a young child. She leans to place a plate in front of the child. Her skirt lifts in the back, exposing more of her brown legs.

“Okay.”

He’s game. He squares his shoulders and runs a hand through his hair. Rue tries to hide her unbridled interest behind a mildly amused expression. When she schools her features, he knows that means she’s up. The same leggy waitress comes over and sorts out their food.

“Aren’t you cold, doll?” Bucky asks, leaning back in his chair easily. He lets her see him drag his gaze up her legs.

“Um,” she instantly flustered, “it’s part of the uniform.” She tries to smile, but he can see the mild panic in her eyes. “I’m running around anyway.”

He relaxes his stare to something more sensuous. “That you are.”

(If she turns her attention to Rue for help, he’ll stop. If she looks at him, even briefly, he’ll continue.)

“Is there anything else I can get for you guys?” she asks. Her eyes flit to him, then lower.

“Nothing you can give us right now,” Bucky says. He notices the way her breath catches at the base of her throat. “What was your name again?”

“Evie.” She plays with a braid idly, their gazes connect. He smirks.

“Evie,” he repeats slowly. “Thank you, Evie. We’ll let you know when we need you.”

“My pleasure.”

(His eyes tell her it will be. She gets the message, bolder now. He notices the way her hips swing as she walks away.)

“What the shit,” Rue hisses. She’s fanning herself with her hand dramatically. She’s on the verge of laughter, shock written over her features. “That was the most intense smolder I’ve ever seen. Are you a fucking vampire? Holy shit.”

Bucky shrugs. He reminds her, “I was a spy. I had to be both invisible and extremely noticeable… whatever the occasion calls for.” He picks up his burger and bites into it.

She follows suit, humming in delight as she does. “God, I love this place.”

Evie returns, approaching like a ghost. “I, um, brought extra napkins,” her flustered act is back, “in case you need them.”

“Thank you, darling,” he smiles like a shark.

(Involuntarily, his eyes pass over her once more.)

“James,” Rue is laughing. She’s rifling through the napkins until she gets to the last one. “You did it, you’ve still got it.” She hands him the napkin.

(He sees the loopy blue letters of Evie’s name and a phone number. There’s a light brown kiss over it. It also says, so you can warm me up.)

[audikatia]

Thanks for the tag, @your-void-senpai!

Pick ten of your fics, scroll to the middle, and pic a line (or a couple) to share and tag people!

Transubstantiation (TRC) “I’m sorry,” Gansey told Declan, “Ronan is a child who cannot hold the phone because it’s lava.”

So Fair to Be Seen (TRC) He dug in his coat for his keys and Ronan slipped his hand alongside Gansey’s in his pocket. His other hand crawling around Gansey’s side to rest against his stomach, pulling his back to his chest possessively. Ronan’s mouth dragged against the side of his neck.

“I sucked your dick. Let me drive.”

“You live your life according to a fascinating rubric.”

“Say rubric again.”

Veritas (TRC) Careful not to disturb Ronan, he turned in the bed, twisting the blankets around his hips, to watch Ronan’s prone form. Adam checked him for nightwash, but saw only stubbled pale skin unmarred by black residue. He watched Ronan’s eyes for the telltale twitch of his eyes under his delicate eyelids, but saw only perfect stillness. He brushed the tip of his finger down the long slope of Ronan’s roman nose, but saw only his face burrow more firmly into the pillow.

Lacrimosa (Young Justice) The listless, vacant vase living in the house isn’t a vase at all. Artemis is not holding seeds, blooming flowers within herself. She’s an urn, a living cadaver holding all the memories Zatanna has been forcing inside her to mingle in the ashes of who Artemis used to be.

let the pretty bleed out (Young Justice) "Can you even taste the blood?" Jade asks, eyeing with boredom the torn wings laying haphazardly on the concrete floor of their shared space.

"It's not about the taste," Artemis tries to explain. It's the experience. It's pinning it down, splitting it open, letting the pretty bleed out. It's stunning, careless and wonderful and pure. It's the power she gets from ripping the wings off and cupping the twitching body in her hand. It's caught, hers forever.

Touch Me Til I Follow in Love (Young Justice) He thinks maybe he should hold his hand, but he can't bring himself to that shared level of intimacy. Instead, his fingers twist into the stubborn cowl of Jaime's sweat-soaked hair, his hands rub at the tension of his shoulders, his palm rests at the base of his skull. His hands never leave Jaime for longer than a moment.

I Taste the Summer on Your Peppery Skin (Young Justice) She leaned her head back and let the last bit of the evening's sun wash over her face. Her throat exposed and her tendons stretched out, Wally eyed the dip of her collarbone and counted three grains of sand that had settled there.

glare (Young Justice) Motionless, he stares at her. Yellow tangled hair, pink flushed cheeks, red bitten lips, gray narrowed eyes. He stares unblinking until her colors blend before him. And when she finally stands, he thinks haphazardly of a sunrise.

Graceless Hearts (Star Trek) "I'm not always going to be around to take care of you," McCoy warns, tugging a little tighter than necessary on the stitches. Blood bubbles up in minuscule dots like scattered supernovas, but Jim doesn't even blink.

"Yes you are," he smirks.

Bleedme Blue (Star Trek) Friendships founded on alcohol, sex, and fuckups shouldn't work, but Jim can do the impossible. Everything is his or made to be his, and McCoy is just another item on that list. Jim takes the liberty to rename him.

Bones is a better name anyway.

lol this was so much fun, I haven't looked at some of these fics in years. I had to go back to my fanfiction.net account for some of these. I miss my Star Trek 2009 era lol

Tagging: @the-prince-of-tides, @apocketfullofhobbits, @ive-garden, @freshwaterseas, and anyone else who wants to go on a nostalgia binge lol

[moneymasnn]

The baby sitter and the brother| Mason Mount

Part 1: Part 2 will contain a follow on smut.

Request: Hey , can you do one where y/ n is summer’s babysitter, and one day she comes to babysit her and mason comes to see jaz ,but obviously he doesn’t find her ( it’s the first time y/n and mason saw each other ) and summer asks if he can stay a little bit with them, there are a lot of sexual tension between them and when summer is asleep they make out ( maybe add a smut ) . I really like what you write and I hope you can do this one 💙

Notes: This is a repost since the first one got taken down, so ive placed the smut into a second part where you can read here thank you for all the love, I love every single one of you more than anything, thank you for all the kind messages too! They honestly make me cry lol. But my reqs are open rn if you want to request anything, I do have a long list of drafts so don't expect anything to be written really quickly, but I try. Anyways... enjoy the fic xox

Warnings: None, mild swearing maybe?

"There's some snacks in the fridge, no ice cream after 8pm and when she's asleep the parental lock pin for the tv is just 1234." Said Jazs husband smiled at you, Sam. They were putting their coats on getting ready to leave for a weekend date night.

You and Jaz had been friends for years, her and your older sister, steph being best friends, you grew up with Jaz as practically like a second older sister. But now she was married with a baby, and you knew she was stressed so you offered to babysit Summer while she and Sam had their first date night in what seemed like a couple years.

"Dont worry about us, you two go have fun!" You smiled as you waved off Jaz, who was fiddling around.

"Oh y/n, there's wine in the fridge, just help yourself!" whispered Jaz as Sam was calling for her to put her heels on.

Once they were finally almost out the door you felt a little tug at your joggers, looking down to see a smiley summer who was making grabby hands at you. You picked her up, taking her hand in yours as you waved goodbye to Jaz and Sam.

"Say bye to mummy and daddy Summer." Summer mumbled a few goodbyes as Jaz gave her loads of sloppy kisses before Sam finally managed to get her out of the door.

"Okay, what's first?" You say to a smirking summer, who had apparently made a list of things for you both to do that night.

The first thing on her list, that she asked Jaz to write for her, was she wanted you to braid her hair to look like Rapunzel's, which was fun, until she asked to do yours.

Which is how you ended up in the state you were currently in, your hair was in complete knots, filled with her sparkly butterfly clips hanging down in your face as well as the flour smudges that were all down your top from what was next on Summers list, cookies.

Summer sat on the little kitchen stool, eating all of the chocolate chips out of the packet while you were trying to get all of the ingredients right. Then there was a knock at the door that startled you a bit. Summer was taking no notice of you since she was too busy devouring all of the chocolate, so you quickly left the kitchen to answer the front door.

"Don't touch anything while I quickly answer the door, okay sunny?" You tried to brush off some of the flour on your top as your hand wrapped around the handle of the door. You didn't think much of the knock, thinking maybe it was a neighbor or something, but it was... great...Mason. Jazs brother.

"I- oh, Hello." Mason said with a smirk when he noticed it wasn't his sister at the door. He put his phone in his jumper pocket as he examined all of the butterfly clips in your hair and the flour spread out on your top. You mentally cringed as you saw him eye up your awful state, his eyebrows raised as he lightly poked the instead of his cheek with his tongue. 

"Jaz isn't home. I'm babysitting." You slightly smiled at him, feeling the rather awkward tension between the two of you..

"Your hair looks nice." Mason quickly says, clearly trying to suppress a laugh as he raised his eyebrows again, giving you one of his signiture stupid little cockly smirks.

"Thank you, I can give you the name of my hair stylist if you'd like, she's very good." You say with an attitude, flashing him a sarcastic smile making him giggle a little .

"I'll have to hold you to that." He smirked, he had that stupid face on, his stupid little cocky face. 

Mason was attractive, you couldn't deny that, but the only woman he hadn't managed to get around happened to be you. He liked that you were too stubborn to give in to his little fuck boy flirting tactics, but for some reason that never stopped him from trying. There had been multiple occasions where mason had ‘tried’ to seduce you. For example family holidays or even your sister's wedding last year, the wedding in which he had brought a date too. 

But Mason was never in a rush when it came to you, he knew it would happen eventually, but he was perfectly okay with waiting for it to happen on its own. He didn't want to force it with you. But just because he felt like this doesn't mean you have to know.

"You can come in, were making cookies." You raised your eyebrows as mason had no time for space and just barged through the door, squishing you against the wall.

You could feel his breath on your face while he placed his hands on the wall, taking his shoes off with his other hand. You knew what he was doing, and you weren't going to play into his weird extremely tempting game. You were here to babysit his niece, not fuck the uncle.

When you stepped back into the kitchen you watched Summers' eyes practically light up as she saw uncle walk into the room.

"Uncle Masey!" She screamed as she jumped up on the chair to jump in his arms.

You watched as he grabbed her out of the chair, spinning her in the air as she yelled out of joy, clearly loving being In the arms of her uncle.

He then sat her down on the counter top as he peered over your shoulder, once again having no regard for your personal space as he read the ingredients list you had up on your phone.

You turned your head to look at him, furring your brows as he just smiled and looked down at Summer, who had gone back to eating all of the chocolate chips.

"Can Uncle masey stay y/n/n?" Summer asked you, with her cute little voice and that pout, you couldn't say no.

"If he wants too." You smile at her before turning your attention back to your phone.

"I wouldn't miss out on eating all of your cookies would I?" Mason smiled as he ruffled her hair slightly, trying to to damage the near plait you had put in her hair.

"Masey! Don't touch my hair, Y/n/n did it." She pouted at him as she slapped his hand as hard as she could, and for a three year old you would be quite shocked at her abilities.

"Ouch." Mason searched with a small voice crack as he pulled back his hand.

He slightly admired her hair, it was really pretty and neat, Mason smiled as he turned to you, who was getting the dough out for Summer to make shapes out of her cookies.

Mason then sat up at the table and helped make a few of the cookie shapes. Overall the time wasn't too bad, Mason hadn’t made one inappropriate comment and summer was clearly getting tired, meaning she wouldn't play you up to go to sleep tonight.

After a while summer ran off to the front room to play with her toys while the cookies were in the oven, so you started to clean up when Mason came up behind you at the sink.

"I'll help." He shrugged, as he bumped his hip into yours for you to move over so he could help you wash the dirty dishes.

"I'll clean, you dry?" He turned to look at you with a smirk, your noses practically touching with how close to you he was.

You both stood in silence as Mason mumbled the odd "here" to pass you something for you to dry, you didn't make much mess so you cleaned up pretty quickly.

You then retreated to the sofa, as summer made her demands of what movie she wanted to watch. 

She ended up picking some Disney film, but first you took her upstairs and got her changed into her pjs while Mason got the cookies out of the oven.

When you got back down the stairs Mason had put some blankets out and put the warm cookies on a plate on the coffee table. Summer jumped in his arms as she wrapped the blanket around her.

"Can we all cuddle?" She said as she made grabby hands for you to sit on her other side, so that's how you ended spending your Saturday night, making a sandwich between the child you were babysitting and her uncle. Mason's arm was draped over the sofa, the tips of his fingers just about grazing your shoulder as you felt yourself melt at the slight contact.

Summer fell asleep during the film with a melted cookie in her hand, you both giggled at the toddler before you picked her up, taking her upstairs to put to bed.

"I can carry her up for you." Mason said, as he shot up on the sofa.

"She's fine, she's not heavy." You smiled as you walked past him, slightly confused, you didn't want to pass her over in case she woke up anyway.

"Well i'll help you up the stairs, in case you slip." Mason shrugged as you once again furred your brows.

"Okay?" You slightly giggled confused at his actions, but you shrugged him off walking up the staircase.

Once you got up the stairs you placed a soft kiss on Summer's head and tucked her under her covers. She was half asleep and mumbling a few things to you while Mason stood in the doorway, admiring how patient you were with her.

"Night sunny." You whisper as you pull the door to an almost close and stand in the hallway with Mason, who had a wide smile on his face.

"What time are Jazz and Sam back?" He quizzed you as you brushed past him, both making your way down the stairs.

"In the morning." you mumbled.

"In the morning?" Mason said, taken back slightly, realizing you were about to spend the night alone with him.

You nod at him as you make way to the kitchen, but Mason beats you to it as he grabs the bottle of wine from the fridge.

"Want one?" He says with a smirk, raising his eyebrows.

"Are you trying to seduce me by getting me drunk on the job, Mount?" You said, crossing your arms with a smirk.

You watched Mason's smile drop as he was clearly nervous. "I- I what? Ha no, I didn't mean it like-"

"Mason, I'm joking." you giggle at him as you grab two glasses from the cupboard. Mason awkwardly smiles at you as you notice the pink tint in his cheeks, do you make him nervous?

You watched mason disappear back into the front room with the bottle in hand, you peered down at the two small glasses in you hand, tonight, was going to be a weird night...

part 2 (contains smut)

part 3

[earlgreydream]

mahogany.

| draco x reader | smut |

anon requested. Professor draco ❤️ y/n were in his room just chilling draco reading and y/n getting bored and h-word 🙄 she started to seduce him but he wont give in saying not now blablabla when y/n literally throwing herself to him and he rejects her lol and when y/n touching herself moaning beside him being a brat thats where draco takes control and fucking her like theres no tomorrow

cw: overstim, ‘professor’, masturbation

a/n: I combined these concepts and changed a bit but I hope you love ❤️

“Draco, can’t you take a break? I’ve been waiting all day,” you asked sweetly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stood behind him.

“I’ve got to grade these papers, darling.” Draco spoke, kissing your hand before his focus drifted back to the papers. Yours had already been graded, a nearly perfect score with only tiny corrections in the margins.

.

You’d been secretly dating your potions professor for almost a year. Draco Lucius Malfoy was the youngest, hottest, and smartest professor at Hogwarts, and you’d become instantly enamored with him. All the girls whispered about the young slytherin prince who had returned to teach the class he excelled at.

Your love was scandalous and fiery, and full of love and adoration. Draco was a bit older, and the role of a caring dominant suited him well, guiding you and teaching you. You adored him, and wanted to do everything to make him happy. Typically, you were a well behaved girlfriend, but today he wasn’t so lucky.

You were needy, horny, and you desperately wanted to be fucked. Draco had been overly busy with grading exams and papers, leaving you with less attention.

.

You sat on his desk beside where he worked, absentmindedly undoing the buttons on your uniform top. Draco ignored you, his eyes trailing along lines of script about potion ingredients. His glasses rested delicately on the bridge of his slender nose, the sleeves of his sweater pushed up to his elbows as the room warmed.

You reached out and dragged your fingers through his silky white hair, freeing it from the messy bun it had been tied back in.

“Not now, I’ve got to grade,” Draco hummed, squeezing your thigh.

You tossed your shirt on the floor, knowing once he was giving you any ounce of attention, you’d get scolded for. When he didn’t look up, you dropped your bra with it, desperate to get his attention.

“Professor Malfoy?” You whined, gently grasping his jaw and tilting his head up to look at you.

Draco immediately dropped his pen, utterly astounded by the sight of you. You were perched on the desk, wearing just your short little uniform skirt that had ridden up around your waist, and thigh high socks. Your tits were out, on full display for him. Your distraction was working, but your bratty attitude compelled him to deny you a bit longer.

“I just want you to touch me, please,” your sweet voice was lilted with need, and Draco shifted in his chair as his trousers grew tight.

“I know you do, pretty girl, but I’m not finished working.”

“But Professor Malfoy, m’not wearing any panties,” you said softly, flipping up your skirt and showing him your bare skin that was glistening with desire.

He stared at you for a moment, letting his eyes travel along your body and land on your puffy little pussy, that was throbbing from how badly you wanted him. He glanced back up at your eyes before turning back to the papers, wishing more than ever he didn’t have to work.

You were horrified that Draco left you untouched, picking his pen back up and resuming his work. He had to bite back the smirk, amused by your annoyed gasp.

You gave up on him then, deciding to take care of yourself. You stayed beside him, parting your legs and leaving your skirt flipped up. You set one socked foot on his thigh for leverage and slowly started to dip your fingers into your folds. Your touch moved delicately over your skin, drawing tight circles on your clit until you were dripping onto Draco’s desk.

Soft whines were strained in your throat, and Draco swallowed his own moan. He forced himself not to watch you, but the sound of your fingers gliding in and out of your pussy tore all of his attention from his work.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you watched him drop his pen and slide the stack of papers into a drawer, clearing his desktop.

You breathed a sigh of relief when he tugged his sweater off. Your own fingers didn’t come close to reaching the tender places that his could, and you were desperate for him.

Draco sat back in his chair, palming himself through tight black boxers as he watched you finger yourself, your thighs jolting when you brushed your spongey walls.

“Draco, please help me,” you begged, sliding your fingers out when he stared at you.

“I will be glad to help you after you make yourself come.”

“No, I want you.”

“Don’t be bad now, darling. Let me watch you play with that pretty little pussy.”

Draco feigned a sympathetic smile at your whimpers, pulling your legs open farther to inspect your movements. You felt surveyed, like Draco was inspecting your performance.

You pouted at Draco, and he tiled his head to the side. You tried reaching for his hand, and he pushed his chair back a bit more. He was amused by your needy drama, but he was nearing to the end of his patience.

“If you don’t make yourself come in the next five minutes, you don’t get to come at all for the next week, darling.”

You flashed a hurt look, but his gaze was stern, eyes dark with lust. When you hesitated to move, Draco glanced down at his watch, silently daring you to test him.

Your fingers moved down to your clit, trying to get off for your boyfriend. You tensed as the pressure built, and you fell back on your elbows. Draco watched your tits bounce as you drew ragged breaths in your chest, overwhelmed from the pleasure reverberating through you.

“That’s my girl,” Draco praised you, moving in and lightly kissing your swollen clit. You jumped at the contact, startled by the stimulation.

“Darling, you’ve made such a mess on my desk,” he scolded with a smile, watching you pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

He gently pushed you to lay back against the wooden desktop, hard and cold under your mostly nude body. You grinned as he undressed, parting your legs and putting your feet on the desk.

Draco dragged your hips to the edge, immediately pushing into your slick pussy. Your overstimulated cry encouraged Draco, who held your hips down as he railed you.

Draco went as rough and fast as he could, fucking you into delirious ecstasy. Your professor satiated your every desire, fucking you braindead on his desk.

“Going to let me come inside this tight little cunt, darling?” Draco asked, his hand pinning your wrists above your head.

“Yes, professor,” you murmured, playing into the taboo of your relationship.

Your walls fluttered around Draco, closing down on him tightly as he forced you to orgasm for the second time, his touch pure electricity on your clit.

He mouthed wet kisses along your breasts, feeling your breath shudder and your back arch off of the mahogany.

“Fuck, pretty girl,” Draco hissed into your soft skin, throbbing inside of you.

Draco’s loud moan echoed in your ears and the sharpness of his teeth against your skin made you shudder. Hot white ribbons were painting your walls, thick and warm. He pulled you up against his chest, holding you close as he filled you with his spend.

“Draco, oh my god,” you gasped, dragging your fingers through his fine hair.

“I want you to feel me dripping out of you for hours,” he growled into your shoulder, leaving another mark on the skin there.

You were feeble in his arms, overstimulated and worn out. His lips pressed kisses to your face, and he got the two of you into a generous hot bath.

Loving hands washed the day from your body, attentive to everywhere you were sensitive. Draco whispered to you and kissed your lips, being extra gentle.

“I won’t be so busy this weekend. We can have a night in, no papers to grade, all my attention on you,” Draco suggested.

“Yes please.”

“Maybe I can make you work for an A then,” he teased, brushing his nose against yours and making you giggle.

[mikkomacko]

So not sure if you’re going to understand this but here’s my idea: the team not knowing that the reader is dating both Bucky and Steve (Stucky) and they confront her and say some awful things like she’s using them, a cheating wh*re etc. and she just starts crying and runs and locks herself in their room (or whatever you’d like). Then Stucky comes back or out from somewhere looking for her and then they ask the team and the team tells them that she was “cheating” on both of them with each other and then they’re like no we’re all dating each other and the team feels all bad and you can end it how you want lol. You don’t have to do this and sorry if it’s bad.

A/n: Sorry it took so long! Hope it's ok! <3

~

Two Avengers dating would cause enough gossip in itself, but three Avengers? Two of which have been best friends since the 40s? She can't imagine what kind of reaction that would get out of Sam or Nat who have always teased Steve and Bucky about being really good friends.

So when y/n, Bucky, and Steve made their relationship official, they kept it as low-key as possible. Anything beyond cuddling was reserved for the privacy of their rooms, flirting had to be subtle, and all dates were far from the Avengers compound.

They just had to pray they could follow the rules and keep their hands to themselves when others were around.

~

Drumming her fingers on the folder, y/n heads up HR to submit her latest mission report. It was simple surveillance mission, nothing exciting to report on but she'd been gone for over a week and wanted to get the report in asap so it could be done with. Dropping it off on the incoming desk, she promptly turns on her heel to head to lunch but is stopped just outside of the doorway by a hand on her bicep. She's tugged into the hidden corner before she can even react, two strong arms caging her against the cool wall.

Bucky, dressed for a training session, stands before her, blue eyes sparkling and lips smiling. Immediately, her guard falls, lips widening into a smile that reflects the same love shining through Bucky's.

"Careful Barnes," she teases, "next time I won't be so kind about ya pawing at me."

He clicks his tongue. "Wouldn't be pawing if you'd come to see me as soon as you got back."

"Paperwork waits for no one. Not even Cap and Sarge."

He sighs playfully. "Damn doll, that hurts. Think ya should kiss it better."

So she does. Cupping his jaw between two soft palms, y/n seals their mouths together in a tender kiss, completely blind to Bruce and Tony who have just caught sight of them from down the hall.

~

Bucky heads down to the gym and y/n heads to room to clean up before lunch, ignoring his pleas for her to join him. She's technically on recovery from her last mission and she's definitely going to milk that for a day off. She's approaching her door when one just down the hall opens, a familiar blond head of hair coming into view.

She pauses, leaning her shoulder against the doorway and smiles at him. "Hey Cap, fancy seeing you here."

He lifts his head, soft blue eyes meeting hers and he smiles that cute little smirk only Steve Rogers could smile. "Hey, heard you got back early this morning."

"Yeah, way early." She laughs, tilting her chin up as he moves closer.

"How'd it go?"

He stops in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head. It's his typical go-ahead-I'm-listening stance but by the way he's eyeing her mouth she knows he doesn't actually want to hear it right now. Steve always tries to hide the fact that he's just as clingy as Bucky.

"Is that really what you're going to ask me, Rogers? After being gone for so long you want my mission run down right now?"

He chuckles, dipping his head and lightly shaking it. "No not really."

"So what's your real question?"

Bashful, he meets her eyes again. "Can I have a hello?"

Y/n laughs, butterflies fluttering in her chest as she rises on her tiptoes to kiss him. He gently grips her waist, pulling her just the slightest bit closer and humming in content. She throws her arms around his neck, fingertips shifting into the hair at the base of his neck, once again too caught up in her boyfriend to notice Nat and Sam have just spotted them from the end of the corridor.

~

"You'll never believe what we just saw!" Sam shouts, hightailing it into the kitchen with Natasha hot on his heels. Bruce and Tony both startle in their seats at the table, water sloshing over the edge of Bruce's mug.

"Nuh-uh, we're first." Tony says, shaking his head.

"No we are." Sam insists, Tony opening his mouth to continue the argument but Natasha cuts him off.

"Rogers and y/n are together."

And that makes Tony and Bruce pause. Sam whoops proudly, smirking at the two as they share looks of confusion.

"Steve and y/n?" Bruce confirms, eyebrows pinching together when Nat nods firmly.

Tony sighs. "Well that puts us in a bit of pickle because we saw Barnes with his tongue down her throat."

Sam's jaw drops. "What? When?"

"Earlier today!" Bruce exclaims, motioning towards the HR department. "She was dropping off paperwork and he just grabbed her and kissed her."

"Well we just watched Steve pin her against a door and kiss her not even ten minutes ago." Nat exclaims, anger building up in her veins. "Which means we've got a problem."

Sam turns to her, just as angry. "Damn right we do!"

~

Bottom lip between her teeth, y/n attempts to hide the giddy smile that's been plastered on her face since her reunion with her boys. It's a weak attempt because she's practically as bright as a ray of sunshine but she doesn't really care. She's happy. She's so incredibly happy and she wants it to last forever.

Unfortunately for her, the feeling is cut short far too soon because as soon as she enters the kitchen, 4 pairs of eyes are glaring at her.

"Hey everyone," she says tentatively, slowing to a stop. "what's going on?"

Sam scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why don't you tell us what's going on?" He says coldly, "You know besides you macking on our friends."

Macking on his friends? Oh god, Steve and Bucky! They found out about their relationship...

Her jaw drops, cut-off guard. "Wait! I can explain-"

"Cheaters don't get an explanation." Nat cuts off, eyes mean and piercing. Y/n heart sinks into her stomach. Cheating? She'd never cheat in her life, especially not on Bucky and Steve.

"Cheating? I'm not-"

Tony rises from his seat. "Save it y/n. We know you're cheating on Bucky and Steve with each other. How could you do that? They're like brothers and your just using them-"

"No I'm not!" She insists, panicking under the hateful gazes. "You guys don't understand. Just let me-"

"No!" Sam cuts off. "Bucky and Steve have both gone through so much. Do you realize how difficult it must have been for them to open up to you? And you thew it all away. You hurt them. You're a bitch y/n, full honestly."

Tears sting her eyes. Sam's never said anything like that to her let alone anyone they know. He's always been so kind and welcoming so to hear such hurtful words from him has her stunned. She can't even think of anything to say to defend herself.

"Y-you really think that lowly of me?" She sniffles, "That I would do something like that?"

"We saw it, y/n." Banner responds, nose scrunched in disgust. "Now get outta here before we throw you out."

Insulted and insecure, she shakes her head. "I can't believe you all." Then she turns on her heel, running to the safety of her room.

~

Bucky's spotting Steve on the bench press when the foursome of Avengers walk in, somber looks on their faces.

"Steve," Bucky says, gaining his attention. Immediately the super soldier is setting down his weights, sitting up to look at their friends.

"What's going on? Is someone hurt?" Steve asks, rising to his feet. Sam shakes his head, smiling sympathetically.

"No one's hurt," he assures "but we've got something to tell you."

Bucky swallows nervously, something in him going on high alert. He knows that this is about y/n, that something's happened and it makes him anxious. Where is she?

"What?" Bucky asks, noticing the lingering anger in Nat's eyes.

"It's y/n," she says "she-"

"She what?" Bucky interrupts quickly, readying himself to sprint upstairs.

"She's cheating," Tony says, eyes flickering between the two men. "On you two. With each other."

Oh, Bucky wasn't expecting that. He turns to Steve, the two sharing a silent conversation between themselves. They know? Looks like it pal. How'd that happen? I told you to be careful...

"Don't worry, we already gave her a piece of our minds-"

"You what?!" Steve suddenly asks, finally realizing what they're saying. They think y/n cheated on them because they don't know they're all three dating each other. And they confronted her about it.

"What did you say?" Bucky asks lowly.

"The truth," Sam says proudly. "that she's a bitch for using you both."

Before anyone can react Bucky is rushing towards the doors, abandoning his belongings in favor of checking on y/n. Steve doesn't mind, knowing that when it comes to being emotional and open, Bucky is typically the one she leans on. He's good at being a comforting shoulder.

"Oh god Sam," Steve sighs. "Y/n isn't cheating-"

"Yeah-"

"No she's not!" He shouts, startling them. "She's not. For the past few months we've been dating. The three of us."

The silence is almost amusing if Steve wasn't too busy thinking of his girl upstairs, upset.

"Like a throuple?" Bruce asks, confused.

Steve nods shortly. "Thanks for accusing her instead of talking it out. Appreciate it." He says icily, pushing around them. Stalking towards the exit, he calls over his shoulder. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a girl to go check on."

~

Bucky has wrapped her up like a burrito in the comforter from his bed on the floor of her room, leaning back against the side of the matress with her sat between his parted thighs. Her eyes are still wet and swollen but she's giggling through her sniffles, a spoon hanging out of her mouth and a bowl of soup in her lap. They both look up when he enters the room, Y/n smiling shyly and Bucky relieved.

"We ok sweetheart?" He asks, waiting for her nod before looking to Bucky.

"We're good Steve," he promises, sweeping her hair over her shoulder with his hand and brushing his fingers through it. "She was just frustrated. Didn't know they could think she'd do something like that."

"That's because she wouldn't," Steve says firmly, sitting on the floor next to them. "and we know that y/n. We know you'd never hurt us like that."

"I love you Steve," she swears, resting her head on his shoulder. "And I love you Buck. Thanks for doing this for me."

"Course doll," Bucky says, kissing the side of her head. "Don't have to thank us for loving you." Steve hums his agreement.

"But..."Bucky quickly adds, "you can thank me after I beat Sam's ass for calling you that."

Steve sighs, rolling his eyes. "Buck..." He says warningly but he doesn't even finish the scolding thought because their boyfriend's threat has made y/n smile and that's all they could ever ask for.

[sukirichi]

Breakfast: ingredient 64 + sugar 5 for inumaki

Okay, but like- what about inumaki's first kiss? His mouth is a very sensitive area and his first kiss would be a very intimate act, so here's what happens: reader and him are mutually pining BUT all everyone else sees is the sexual tension between them.

Somehow itadori manages to lock them in a dark small space, where they share their first kiss, yet they don't speak about it and to each other for a long time. At some point itadori (i swear this kid is a matchmaker) points out how y/n and toge can't even glance at each other and inumaki breaks. Late at night he shows up at reader's dorm, pins her to the wall and kisses her like no tomorrow. After they eventually have a rough make out with toge's shirt coming off, they lay on her bed where reader tells him she really likes him and he grabs her chin to stop her rambling and she looses it when she sees so much love and lust swirling in his eyes (they maybe have a third make out round 👀) and in the end they come to the conclusion they love each other and that they should have acted sooner on it.

I don't know if make outs count as nsfw and i read that you can write only sfw for inumaki, so it's okay if you can't complete this request. Just let me know you if can't.

Also get prepared to be spoiled spammed with asks.

— 🍰 strawberry shortcake anon

delicate

the first kiss with inumaki toge is as delicate as he is.

meal order: ★🥞 + 64 (canon au) + 5 (mutual pining) + sensitive first kiss with inumaki, them trapped in a room + yuuji as matchmaker uwu + WALL PIN KISS YES SIR + basically hot af inumaki

warnings: nothing really, just make out sessions and implications of smut, also UH soft dom inumaki toge, i guess? unedited as always

song i listened to while writing: I.F.L.Y. by Bazzi

note: 🍰 anon TYSM for this request, my heart was legit doki doki the whole time. this totally reminds me of why inumaki was my first crush and he’s the reason i came to watch jjk lol i love him so much <3 i hope this is what you’ve been looking for and that you like it! i had a lot of fun writing this one!

“Yuuji, don’t!” You tried to scramble against the strawberry haired boy’s grip, but he was far too strong, and it didn’t help that Nobara’s riled up self was helping him push you back inside the storage room. “Yuuji, Nobara, I’m your senpai, have some respect—” You don’t get to finish your words before you’re pushed inside, landing on the floor with a thud.

“Yuuji!” You banged your fists on the door once you’ve recovered, screaming at the top of your lungs. From outside the door, you heard the underclassmen giggle and run away, leaving you with your crush, Inumaki Toge, of all people.

Falling down into a squat, you wrapped your arms around yourself, refusing to look at him. You were only thankful that it was dark so Toge wouldn’t see how your pupils blew wide, your body responding at the soft scent of his perfume and laundry detergent. He’d been your crush for who knows how long now, and your first memory of meeting the cursed speech user burns at the back of your mind to remind you that it’s been years, and yet you’ve barely spoken to him.

Unlike the other students, your cursed technique wasn’t the most useful in combat. Your technique allowed you to nullify the abilities of others, but the downside of it was that it didn’t have much advantage against curses, so you had to rely on your physical strength to exorcise.

On the bright side, though…

“So,” Toge begins, shuffling away from the dusty wall and closer to you. Your heartbeat raced when his knees brushed against yours, thighs pressed against one another. “You’re a victim of them too.”

“Hmm, guess so.”

Neither of you speak for a while. Toge himself wasn’t much of a talker, and he barely batted an eye when Maki and Panda hauled his ass inside the storage room. He was so calm and placid that your mind was in mess – both because you were comfortable and happy in his presence, but at the same time, your palms were so sweaty and the room was so stuffed you could barely breathe. It didn’t help that Toge was humming too, reassured that he wasn’t going to hurt you with his powers.

“Uhm,” you started nervously, fiddling with your fingers. The silence stretched out thick and cordial that you couldn’t bear it anymore, and you turned to Toge with wide eyes, blinking back rapidly when he faced you as well, his deep purple eyes like a painting before you. “Do-do you know why we’re locked in here?”

Your palms grew wetter with each ticking second; Toge taking his time to answer.

Nobara had eavesdropped on you gushing to Megumi on how Toge looked so cute during breakfast this morning, and the girl immediately ran off to tell her best friend, Yuuji; the two of them sharing the same braincells.

Before you knew it, everyone split into two groups, your classmates dragging Toge away while Nobara and Yuuji manhandled you, hissing into your ear to man up and fess.

As if it was as easy as that! Inumaki Toge – albeit approachable and kind – was still the light of your life, the apple of your eye, and he barely acknowledged your presence the whole two years you’ve been with him. He was much closer with Maki and Panda while you got along more with the younger ones (although you wouldn’t hesitate to redact that statement after doing this to you), so the chances of you ever striking up a full conversation with him were low.

You only admired him from afar, sighing dreamily into your hands while he trained with Panda. Megumi seemed to be the only decent one, silent and bored as ever while you rambled on tirelessly on how much Toge looked so buff under his uniform yet had the face baby, stating over and over again he was born just to drive you crazy.

You should’ve known someone would find out one way or another, but heavens forbid, not him. The both of you were barely friends to begin with – you didn’t want to shatter whatever mutual respect you had for each other just because you crushed on him hard.

Mind running back and forth over the different ways Toge could reject you, because obviously someone had told him, or obviously he knew already – why else would he be locked here with you if your friends didn’t know something? It was getting hard to read his face from the darkness; the only thing you could make out were his long lashes and lips visible with his collar down.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” he avoided your gaze, and you swallowed audibly at the sound of his husky voice; unused to speaking this much. “But…but we’ve got nothing to worry about. Gojo-Sensei or Nanamin will come around soon.”

“Okay,” you nodded at his words, cursing inwardly that this was your perfect chance to confess or at least try and be friends with him, but your whole body was burning, feet frozen in your place that you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You watched from the corner of your eye as Toge rocked back and forth in his heels, cheeks puffed out, and your eyes zeroed in on the snake tattoo beside his lips.

Toge rarely ever let his collar down to muffle his voice, so seeing him expose his lips like this almost felt intimate. He looked so pretty, long lashes fluttering on top of those warmed cheeks and strong arms wrapped around his knees.

He was just an arm’s length away. This was the closest you’d ever gotten with him, and maybe it was because you’d kept your feelings a secret for so long that it suddenly burst through. Faster than you could take notice of yourself, your arm reached out to cup his cheeks, thumb swiping against the tattoos. “Pretty,” you murmured, Toge stiffening up under your touch.

His eyes skewed over to yours, wide and unreadable, but there was something there – something burning. He had to bite down his cheek as you caressed his face absentmindedly, and it wasn’t until his fingers came up to your wrist that you realized what you were doing.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, the warmth of his skin now searing because of your embarrassment. “Toge – I-I didn’t mean to – I’m so sorry! It’s just, your tattoos look so pretty and I’ve always—”

Your words are thrown right back into your mouth when Toge tugged you forward, sending the both of you toppling to the ground. Toge’s hands were delicate, just as delicate as your touch, when he cupped your face, his lips moving with yours. You were stunned for a moment before pleasure and fireworks exploding everywhere burst within you, prompting you to kiss him back in urgent fervor.

Toge’s lips tasted like candy, his sighs into your mouth melting your insides until you’re crumpling his shirt, eyes shut so tight in fear that maybe this would all disappear the moment you opened them.

Your hands travelled everywhere – from his shoulders, to his neck, his jaw – before it settled into his hair, the satisfaction of finally getting to run your hands through them has you weakening in his hold. Toge keeps his grip on your waist firm, almost possessive even, and he held you up both, sitting up while your arms wound around his neck.

A curse must’ve possessed you because you moaned into his mouth when he nipped at your bottom lip, tugging it inside his mouth so he could taste your cherry chapstick.

He wasn’t in a better state than yours. As the cursed speech user, his mouth was one of his most sensitive parts, and it took all energy it had in him to not kiss you senseless right then and there, your lips swiping over his mouth in such a mind-numbing sensation.

It felt like his body was on fire, the heat licking up from his toes to right where you were pressed on him. Your lips on his was scorching, the soft sighs and moans you gave him only adding to the fuel.

Toge groaned as your nails subconsciously pulled at his hair, making him grind you down into the V of his lips, pressing your chest firms against his until there was no more space. Through the darkness and nearly airless atmosphere of the room, Toge still managed to take your breath away, your lips moving in synch and you were falling, falling, falling.

He effortlessly held your weakening arms up before he pulled away, both your chests panting at the sudden heated kiss. His eyes trailed down from your lust-filled gaze to the bow of your lips, where the flesh was plump and abused.

Toge’s thumb swiped over your lips that had you frozen solid because he looked at you so gently, delicately, almost as if he didn’t want to hurt you. But he never could – you nullified everyone’s powers and allowed him freedom in your space. You’d let him come again and again, welcoming him with open arms if he wanted so, and in that moment, you believed he did.

Although why would he want you?

Fears and insecurities struck a chord in you and you scrambled away from his lap, leaving Toge all alone in the ground. You ducked your head down to ignore the confused and hurt expression on his face, turning back to the door instead. “I’m so sorry,” you rasped out in one breath, “I-I didn’t mean for that kiss to happen and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Please just forget this ever happened and I really wish you and I aren’t awkward for this. Okay, good night. See you around.”

Pulling your phone out of your pocket after cursing yourself for not thinking of texting Megumi sooner, you speed dialed the younger boy, begging him to unlock the door.

Megumi came around a few minutes later. Toge had long settled behind you, silent but still catching his breath from your previous lip-locking. His presence unnerved you and you rubbed your hands up and down your arms, praying to whoever divines self that Toge would forget about this as well. The moment Megumi came around, you leaped out of the room, leaving two confused boys – with one of them unknowingly shattered.

The next few days were hell.

You and Toge hadn’t talked much at all before, but now, you both pretended as if the other didn’t existed. During class where there had to be pairings, you immediately sided with Maki and pushing Panda to Toge’s way, the latter frowning behind his collar every time you avoided his gaze.

You just couldn’t handle being anywhere near him after that kiss. You feared that your heart would combust and you’d further embarrass yourself in front of him, as if you weren’t embarrassing enough with how excited you were as you kissed him.

Gosh, what would Toge think of you now?

You bet he found you so weird, and your suspicions were only confirmed when he’d resorted to avoiding you as well. No more polite and cheery good mornings! in the hallway or asking what he had for lunch, no more random texting of memes at 3am because you both didn’t have friends outside the institute.

Pure silence from the other side.

It should’ve comforted you – you wanted to stay away from him, right? – but you only grew restless. Your focus dwindled with each passing day, finding yourself at the back of Toge’s head longingly when he wasn’t looking, then sighing as you chastised yourself from being stupid.

To be honest, that kiss only made your feelings multiply tenfold.

Now that you knew how warm and comfortable Toge was to the touch, how his lips tasted and how his hair felt under your touch – you crushed on him impossibly harder than before.

You reached a point where you tossed and turn around in bed, unable to fall asleep; completely unaware that just a few doors down, he was doing the same. It had you thinking back to that day all over again, wondering why did he kiss you? If he liked you, why did he never talk to you? He never even noticed you before and you were always the first one to strike conversation, but because the others were always around, chats were limited, one-worded, and awkward.

That cursed technique of yours was still useless, after all.

“Would you please stop moping around?” Megumi slammed his book down on the table next to you, and you jumped in your seat, clutching your pencil to your chest. “I’m tired of you eye-fucking Inumaki-senpai.”

“Wha – ? No, I wasn’t, what are you talking about?”

“You’ve both been acting weird,” observed Yuuji who stopped fighting with Nobara over who would win in an arm wrestling fight without special abilities: Gojo-Sensei or Nanami. Nobara nodded beside him, stealing Yuuji’s crisp chips before speaking. “You both can’t even glance at each other. All of us can feel that something’s wrong between you two.”

“They probably fucked in the storage room.”

“Nobara, keep your voice down!”

“Why should I?” she smirked, jabbing her thumb to an asleep Toge lounging on the field with Panda. “Your precious crush is asleep. He won’t know. But whatever, what did happen when we locked you both there?”

“You all humiliated me, that’s what happened!”

“What do you mean humiliated?” Megumi asked this time around, and you buried your face in your arms, glancing over at Toge again. He was slumbering peacefully, his body shaded from the sun under the tree, and your fingertips itched with the urge to hold him close again.

“He doesn’t like me,” you concluded with trembling lips, sending one last longing glance at Toge. “And I think I just absolutely ruined everything.”

No matter how much your underclassmen tried to cheer you up, your spirits were never lifted. You trudged back to your room that night, tired and drained from all the events that you just buried your nose in your textbook, studying about curses for next week’s exams.

The words began to blur and you sighed on your seat, glancing at your phone. It was nearing midnight and the dorms were oddly quiet, but you guessed everyone just had a long day.

Soon, you brushed your teeth and moved to retire for the night when three soft knocks came from your door. Your hand stilled on your blanket, brows furrowed at who could it be this time of the night. After fixing your hair to make yourself presentable, you swung the door open, ready to hit Yuuji if he came here to drag you down to the movie room and force you to watch horror movies again when you were harshly pushed, the stranger kicking the door back.

You gasped as warm lips came crashing down to yours, your hands pinned above your hand with just one arm.

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know it was Toge who’d placed a knee between your legs to prevent you from falling; your knees already turning to jelly before you even registered it was him. The familiar taste of something sweet like candy and cough syrup coated your senses and you moaned in his arms as his hands ran under your shirt, making the hairs on your body prickle up in anticipation.

Toge took advantage of your moan, his tongue slipping inside before it clashed with yours. It was too much – his overwhelming scent, his tongue tasting yours, his hands squeezing your breasts tenderly – you were on the verge of falling apart.

Fire burned all over your body, pure instinct dominating your conscious mind as you pushed him back, Toge falling down with you scrambling above him.

He grunted at your sloppy actions of trying to tug his shirt over his head, but he complied, reaching up at the same time you leant down for another wet, heated kiss. The kiss this time around was far less gentle and more urgent; your mutual pining for one another tipping over the edge until all hell broke loose.

You settled into his lap as if it were a throne and he encouraged you to take it, to claim him because he considered you the queen of his world.

“Toge, I,” you rambled after every peck, unable to form a complete sentence because you kept wanting to kiss him. It was nearly impossible to pull away now that he held you so close, making you feel like home and driving you absolutely insane. “I can’t do it anymore, mmhm, I want you so much – always have – I don’t want to avoid you and I just want to—”

He stopped your rambling by grabbing your chin forwards, his lips molding over yours again and dancing with it like two perfectly syncopated performers.

Toge’s curious hands ravished every crevice and dip of your curves as he sucked on your tongue, tasting it fervently like a traveler memorizing his path. You shuddered when Toge’s nimble fingers travelled down to cup your ass to lift you upwards, pushing you closer and deeper into his mouth.

None of you cared about anything anymore. You could barely focus on anything but letting your hands roam free down his chest, Toge rutting up to you when your cold hands brushed over his nipple.

Needing air to breathe, you pulled away first, panting as your forehead pressed against his. You stared at each other, lips swollen and wet from the hot make-out session. You were sure that your adoration for him was clearly evident in your eyes, that your feelings for him sparkled and radiated like the bright sunshine’s warmth he always made you feel.

But that wasn’t what drove you crazy.

It was the fact his expression mirrored yours; only his had lust swirling around his dark eyes, an unexplainable plethora of emotions flooding through them. You were breathing hard and so was he, his soft pants warming your lips that were still sore from his hungry ministrations.

Now was the time.

It didn’t matter that maybe he didn’t feel the same way for you; you liked him so much. Your feelings poured over the glass and your eyes glossed over with how your heart frantically chanted his name, wanting nothing and no one else but him.

“I love you,” you confessed, “I fucking love you.”

To your surprise, Toge chuckled, pulling you forward until his chest was flushed against yours. He captured your lips for one last kiss, delicate this time around as his hands cupped your jaw. You tilted your hide to the side to deepen the kiss, and you sighed while Toge rubbed soothing circles at the sides of your jaw then down to your neck.

“You better,” he mumbled through your lips, “Because I fucking love you too, and I don’t want to play this game of push and pull anymore.”

It was your first time to hear such dominance in his words, to witness such need and possessiveness shine back through his eyes, his lips travelling to the sides of your face. Submissively, you arched your back to him and allowed him access to your neck, head lolling to the side. Even as Toge slowly but surely left little love bites to mark you as his, he was gentle and delicate, soft yet hard, bitter but sweet like the longing you had for one another.

Even as he had you trapped under his arms, his heat nestled into the deeper, intimate parts of you that only welcomed no one else but him; your lover was absolutely delicate.

And you only fell for him harder than you already have.

[starlightxsvt]

3 dates | epilogue

pairing ➳ badboy!Seungcheol x female!reader

genre ➳ badboy au, romance, some fluff, angst, bad attempt at humour, gets spicy at the end.

word count ➳ 3.5k (total 15.6k)

warnings ➳ cursing, mentions of killing, mentions criminal activities, slight violence(non explicit), smoking, ma man Seungcheol ain't your typical badboy, blackmailing, reader does all sorts of risky things cuz she's a SIMP, blood(nothing explicit), kissing, marking, some breast worshipping, grinding, reader is horny lol. (Please lemme know if I forgot anything.)

a/n : here's the epilogue to 3 dates since tumb1r won't let me post the whole fic in one post :) Enjoy!

Part 1

As time progresses and days turn into weeks and then into months you are not left with the luxury to cry over Seungcheol. Instead you are bombarded with assignments and projects from your uni and you drown yourself completely in work to forget the scathing pain. Katelyn figured out something is wrong with you and even though talking about that man pains you too much, you told her that you are done with him and you won't be seeing him again in this lifetime. Katelyn did not ask any questions after that as you said you needed time to heal, time to forget even though you have serious doubts he'd ever leave your mind.

You have also applied for an internship to keep you even busier so that when you return home you are too tired to let the thoughts of him plague your mind as you drift off to sleep. And just like that, you have developed a routine, work, eat and sleep, trying your best to allow yourself to not think about him.

Despite that sometimes, some very few times, you think of him, wonder how he's doing, wonder if he's safe. You ponder if he thinks of you, if he regrets his decision but you don't have any answer. You simply hope he does.

-

After another day full of assignments and projects you almost doze off to sleep as soon as you hit your bed until you are intruded by the loud ringing of your phone. Annoyed, you reach for it, wondering who would be calling so late.

The caller ID has your heart doing a backflip, the name you were unable to delete from your heart and your phone flashing on the screen as you instantly sit up in your bed. It's Seungcheol.

Why is he calling so late?

You wait a few seconds, scared to pick up, scared that he might have called accidentally. But before you lose your chance, you inhale deeply and pick the call up. "Hello?" You speak, your voice tentative.The silence from the other end makes your heart fall and your suspicion come true. He called you accidentally and now he will realize it and hang up. You're about to speak again when his voice floats through.

"Hi."

The emotions you feel are overwhelming, undescribable. You're relieved, you're sad, you're excited, you want to cry and scream at the same time. That one word from him has you feeling tingles all over and makes you feel like you just did a hundred laps. Anyhow you manage to speak. "Hey." Your voice almost cracks and tears almost slip past your cheeks. You don't know why you are so emotional. "I just...I just wanted to hear your voice." He sounds so tired...so dejected and your heart breaks. Never in your life did you imagine him to call and say those words to you but instead of feeling happy, a current of melancholy hits you.

Why does he sound so broken?

"Seungcheol? Is...is everything alright?" Your voice is feather like, soft and careful. You hear him sigh loudly and you get your answer. Instead of replying to you, he asks, "How have you been?"

"I'm...fine," you lie. You have been nowhere near fine. He hums noncommittally and you're about to ask him the same question before you realize how dumb it would be. If his voice is any indication he is anything but fine. "____?" He calls your name softly. "Y-yes?" You whisper.

He stays silent, for so long that you think he hung up. "I- I just...can I see you?" He seems to have a hard time gathering his words.

What? You lurch out of bed pushing your covers aside in excitement, trying to prevent a gasp out of your lips. Did you even hear correctly? He wants to see you?

"Wha... what do you mean?" You mumble. You hear him sigh loudly, "I...I am in front of your apartment. Just come down for a minute." You don't need to hear any more words as you are dashing towards your front door in your pajamas, not disconnecting the call. You take the elevator and come out of the building as fast as possible, bumping into things in your way but not giving a care. You feet stops as you stand in front of the entrance to your building, eyes searching wildly for Seungcheol. "Stay there," his voice comes through the phone, just as you spot him standing on the opposite to your building, decently far but not far enough that you can't see.

A horrified gasp leaves your mouth as your eyes finally land on him.

He stands there, bruised, his beautiful face marred with scratches and wounds, his clothes having patches of dirt and if you are seeing correctly his left arm is bleeding as he holds the phone next to his ear with the other.

"Seungcheol-" you're about to rush towards him. "Don't move." He cuts you off, looking you in the eye. Even from afar you don't miss the dark, commanding gaze of him. "Just...just stay there. Just...let me look at you."

No- why is he doing this?

Tears slip down your cheeks, "Seungcheol-" You are interrupted once more, "Please. I- I missed you and...I needed to see you. Just let me hear your voice and look at you like this." His voice almost cracks and you can see the emotion in his eyes.

Your heart breaks.

Why does he keep doing this? Why does he keep pushing you away? Why does he torment himself like this?

You stand there, rooted to the ground, quiet sobs leaving your mouth. He comes here all bruised and wounded and expects you to stay away? How can you when you can clearly see him in pain?

You grip the phone tighter, watching him as he stands there, not moving an inch. His eyes never leaves you as he drinks you in, like this is the last time he's gonna look at you. You can't stand it anymore. Hanging up the phone you run towards him, as fast as your nimble legs can carry you. You can't stay away, you just can't. Not when he looks so hurt and lost and lonely.

Your body smashes against his as you wrap your arms tightly around his torso, your head buried in his chest. He stumbles back from the force and for a while he stays unmoved and you hold your breath, half expecting him to shove you away. But he doesn't. Instead he pulls you firmly against him resting your head on his chest while burying his face in your hair.

The tears come naturally. Loud, ungraceful sobs emerge from you as you cling to him like your life depends on it, your grip on him unyielding. Seungcheol softly pets your hair as your cries fill the silence of the cold night. You pull back just a little to look at his face and you want to once more. There's a cut above his brow and some bruises on his cheek and nose and another cut on his lower lip. But you can't bring yourself to care as you lean above to press your lips against his. You don't dare hold back, kissing him like the world is about to end. Seungcheol reciprocates, tilting your head for better access as his tongue prods into your mouth and you taste the metallic flavour of blood. The kiss is messy, all teeth and tongue, an outpour of the bottled up feelings of the last couple months.

You both take a lungful of air when you pull back and you're about to dive in for more when you realize his arm is injured. "Wha- how did this happen?" You hiccup, wiping away your tears as you gently reach for his bleeding arm. His clothes are torn at the part of the wound and from what you can see, it looks like a knife injury, a thin, slanted cut on his upper arm as if someone slashed him. "It's nothing," he says trying to push your hand away.

"It's not nothing, Seungcheol!" You're yelling before you know it. It's the exasperation, the accumulated frustration over the days that makes you snap.

Seungcheol seems to be shocked at your outburst as he blinks at you, an astonished look on his face. He's kind enough to reply honestly this time. "Got into a fight. I was outnumbered. It's okay, it's nothing serious, I've had worse," his voice is small, almost timid which is definitely unlike him.

Of course he has had worse.

You let out a tired breath. "Come on, you're bleeding. Let me help you." You wrap a hand around his uninjured arm, tugging him towards your apartment.

"No, you don't have to-" he protests but you pin him down with a look. "Please," you speak, your voice low. "I can't let you go like this. Just let me clean your wound." Seungcheol presses his lips into a thin line as if trying to prevent himself from speaking further. When no more words leave his mouth, you drag him into your building in silence.

Entering your unit you help Seungcheol sit down in your small living space as you quickly pad towards the bathroom for the first aid kit. When you return you find him looking around your place with a curious glow in his eyes similar to a child's. As your eyes meet, he sits up straighter and tries to remove his jacket. You aid him in the process, discarding the material on the floor as you take a seat next to him, the first aid kit in your lap.

Thankfully he's wearing a tank top as it gives you easy access to his biceps. You would have stopped to admire and ogle them if he wasn't hurt, which he is and you mentally smack yourself for having such thoughts right now. Seungcheol's eyes does not leave your face as he silently gazes at you and if you didn't know any better you would say he looked at you fondly.

Swallowing, you sanitize your hands before proceeding to clean his wound. Seungcheol tenses beside you, low, pained grunts leaving his lips a few times as you disinfect the cut. But he says nothing, letting you do the work and you don't speak either focused on the task at hand. You then do the same for his face and finish your work by wrapping a bandage around his bicep and sitting back, exhaling a satisfied sigh. Unintentionally your eyes connect to his and you find his scorching gaze on you, those mesmerising eyes almost piercing through your soul. Feeling self aware, you abruptly stand up, coughing to clear your throat. "You should take a shower. I have some extra clothes for my parents when they come over. My dad's clothes should fit you."

"No, it's alright. I should leave." He murmurs. "You're already here. Might as well take a shower. There's no rush," you say sternly, trying to make him agree.

Truth is you want him to stay, at least the night.

Seungcheol sits quietly for a while as if contemplating before surrendering with a sigh. "Okay." "Good. The bathroom's this way," you point towards the attached bath in your room and Seungcheol mutely follows. You offer him a towel and you dad's pajamas, hoping they'd do the job for tonight as he closes the door behind him.

As silence fill the apartment, you quietly return to your bed and sit, anxiously chewing on your lower lip. The digital clock beside your bed reads 2:50 am but your sleep is long gone.

Choi Seungcheol is here. In your house.

Will he spend the night? Or will he be his stubborn self and leave as soon as he is out? And if he does stay, will you see him in morning? Or will he be gone before the sun is up? The thoughts running rampant in your mind gives you a headache as you groan, rubbing your temples. You are sure Seungcheol feels something for you, he has to. Otherwise why would he come to you in the middle of the night? If only he told you his feelings, spilled his heart out to you rather than hiding and pushing you away. He just needs to bare himself to you, tell you what is in his heart. Why can't he do that? Why can't he just give the two of you a chance?

Your thoughts are interrupted as Seungcheol steps out the bathroom, half naked, the pajama pants hanging low on his hips as his muscled body is displayed in all its glory, making your throat dry. He looks at you before quickly looking away as an air awkwardness and tension fills the room. You hold your breath, watching him intently, not moving a single muscle as he tentatively takes a seat at the corner of your bed while wiping his wet hair with the towel hanging around his neck.

You want to tell him to stay the night, the words right on the tip of your tongue but you're terrified that it will just make him walk out here immediately. So instead you watch him with bated breath, waiting for his next move, waiting for him to say something, anything that will put an end to this deafening silence.

Seungcheol takes mercy on you.

"Thank you," he says, voice barely audible. You don't know what he's thanking you for you reply anyway. "Welcome. Though I don't know what you are thanking me for." Seungcheol remains silent for a few beats, his eyes focused on the floor before replying. "For everything. I have a lot to thank you for."

Okay.

You nod mutely, unable to figure out a reply. Another wave of silence settles in the atmosphere like a blanket. You take this time to appreciate his beautiful profile, engraving his features in your mind. The moonlight coming from your window falls on his face partially, illuminating his sculpted lineaments. You get to admire his beauty once more as he sits there but the look on his face tugs at your heartstrings. He looks troubled and in pain, the natural glow of his face somewhat dim. You wonder how the past couple of months have treated him. You wonder how life has been treating him, if he had someone to go to, someone to share his worries with all this time.

"Do you still like me?" His words make your eyes widen as it the last thing you expected to come from him. "You wouldn't be here if I didn't," your words come out harsher than you intended making you regret instantly. Perhaps the pain you have suffered for a while is coming out finally. However, seeing his silence, you reply once more, voice much softer this time, "Of course I still like you, Seungcheol. I have...I have never liked anyone or anything as much as you."

It's an understatement. What you feel for him is love but you would rather keep that to yourself.

"Why?" Seungcheol's voice comes out as a croak as his eyes connect to yours. For the first time, you see so much emotion in them and maybe, maybe even some unshed tears, though you can't be sure because the light is not sufficient right now. Your throat closes up for some reason as your eyes mirror the emotions in his and you desperately try to think, try to give him a reply that he deserves.

"You are very easy to like," you say lamely. Your reply is insufficient but that's all you can manage without starting to bawl like a child. A humourless laugh comes out of Seungcheol and echoes through the otherwise quiet room. "I doubt that," he says, his voice deep. "It's true Seungcheol," you repeat, voice firm.

A mirthless grin settles on his face and you know he isn't buying your words. Swallowing, you carefully, too carefully, scoot towards him and sit down, maintaining a little space between the the two of you. "I don't understand why you hold such negative thoughts about yourself but believe me Seungcheol, it's hard not to fall in love with you."

Your slip-up causes your eyes to widen, face drowning in embarrassment as you realize you just said the L word. Seungcheol, however, does not react to it but turns his head to study your face and the pain and sentiment in his eyes, his passionate gaze on you makes you forget human language. You've never seen nor imagined Seungcheol to be so full of ardor and pain and now that you have, you don't know what to do. You just want to cling to him and cry like a child.

"Can't you see how fucked up I am? What and awful person I am, ____? Someone like me deserves noth-" Unable to hold yourself back you interrupt him by cupping both of his cheeks and pressing your lips to his. You kiss him softly, carefully, trying to gauge his feelings while trying not to push him too hard. Seungcheol stays immobilised, letting you kiss him like that. When you pull back, his eyes are closed and he rests his forehead against yours. "You are just fine, Seungcheol. I like you just the way you are. Don't...beat yourself up like this, hmm?" Your voice is just above a whisper as you tilt his head to meet his eyes. Seungcheol stares quietly at you for a while before suddenly pushing you back and caging you underneath his large body. A squeak of surprise leaves your lips as Seungcheol wastes no time wrapping himself around you while attaching his lips to yours.

This time the kiss is not soft, it is full of passion and vigour and longing as Seungcheol takes the reign. Your lips mold perfectly against each other and Seungcheol does not hold back, kissing you like a starved man; all teeth and tongue. He pulls back for a while, supporting himself on his elbows as you looks at you while you try to catch your breath underneath him. His hand comes to stroke your hair gently, like a lover and your eyes burn at his tenderness.

"Seungcheol-"

"Is there still a place for me in your heart?" He asks, a hopeful note in his voice. His words leave you breathless as you gape at him in suprise, you mouth open slightly. Seungcheol looks at you look longingly as he waits for your answer, which comes easily, without a second thought.

"Of course, Seungcheol. I...I love you."

This time it is his turn to be surprised as his pupils dilate and a soft gasp of surprise escapes from him. Swallowing, you hold his gaze, waiting for his next words but they never come. Instead, the man attacks your lips with renewed fervour while slotting a muscular thigh between your legs. As his toned thigh brushes against your core a wanton moan leaves your mouth and you wrap your legs around his waist. You can feel Seungcheol smirk against your skin while he kisses a path down from jaw towards your neck, taking his sweet time to plant some love bites along the way while you gasp and writhe underneath him. Soon he reaches the valley of your breasts and with skilled fingers he does a quick work of the buttons of your night shirt. His heated gaze remains on your now bare breasts and you can feel your nipples harden in the chill air of the room before he leans down to plant soft kisses all over them. While he does so you continue to grind your core against his leg, desperate for some friction which he is denying you. His assault on your neck and breasts don't stop as he remains focused in marking you, blooming kisses of red and purple on your skin.

"I missed you," His voice comes out as throaty whisper while he keeps his lips attached to your heated skin. "Me too," you choke between moans as his ministrations on your body leaves you aching all over for him.

He pulls back to meet your gaze, "I want you. I... always have and I've been hiding it. But I can't anymore."

"Take me then, Seungcheol," It isn't the most romantic thing to say but that is all your lust clouded brain can manage as you keep grinding yourself against him. You feel his hard on poke your belly and unlike your lover, you really can't wait anymore. You need him now.

Seungcheol keeps looking at you, too busy studying your features rather than doing something about the wetness between your legs and you're about to tell him to do something when he speaks, "I love you, ____. I'm sorry for the hurt I've caused you. Let me make it up to you."

Great. Now you're horny and emotional.

His confession brings tears to your eyes but your neediness is growing so you pull his face down closer to yours and whisper, "You can start doing that by making me cum. And then you can stay. With me. Forever. How about that?" A mischievous grin kisses his face, "I'd love that sweetheart."

You grin in happiness not wasting anymore time as you reconnect your lips with his.

a/n 2: Whew~ a whopping 15k+! I can't believe I wrote something this huge. But it was well worth it! I just hate this damn app like I don't understand?? I've seen ppl post fics with 40k+ words yet tumb1r says I've reached 250 blocks like what?? Anyhow, I really really hope you enjoyed reading this baby cuz I've been working on it for soooo long! If you did please reblog and share as always your feedbacks are highly appreciated so please leave them in the comments or my ask box!

[unhinged-summer-fun]

To Build A Dynasty

Chapter 7: Eggshells Underfoot Carol York x Dave York x Marcus Pike x F!Reader (22+)

Series Masterlist

Rating: Mature (Series overall Explicit)

Word count: 3436

Chapter summary: A date, a long-overdue talk. Kids are great.

Warnings: i’m drunk sorry uh i think theres smut? idk i wrote this like a month ago and i was so fucking insecure based on some people in my life that i never posted it!!!!!!!!!!!! content warning author lol

Taglist is linked in my bio and my main masterlist!

< Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 >

You were going on a date.

J was with Carol and Dave and the girls for the night and you were going on a date.

With Marcus.

On a date.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, mommy.”

The date was J’s idea.

J had come up to you after school one day and they had told you mommy, I want you to go on a date with daddy, and you’d been so stunned you had to tell them yes.

But now you were sitting in the living room, all dolled up in your best dress and heels of all things. You hadn’t worn heels since you’d gone out with Carol, and before that, you hadn’t worn them since…

Well, since the last time you were with Marcus.

Perhaps this was a sign you were too rose-tinted to see fully, forests and trees and all those other metaphors that slipped through your fingers the moment you tried to concentrate. Because Marcus was coming to pick you up, after Carol and Dave came to pick J up.

J had packed an overnight bag.

They were getting a bit presumptuous.

At long last, there came a knock at the door and J bolted for it, throwing it wide before you could check the peephole. All four Yorks stood at your doorstep, and you felt yourself flush at the sight of the few unwashed dishes in the sink, the corner of the rug that never flipped flat, the chewed-off windowsill from the previous tenant’s dog. It was a far cry from the intricate beadboard and pristine white kitchen Carol York ruled her kingdom from.

The girls shouted and squealed at the sight of J, even though they’d just seen one another a few hours ago at school. J didn’t even bother with a goodbye as they were ushered down the stairs to the York-mobile. Carol and Dave stood smirking on your doorstep, watching you lose the one person who could have called off this whole night.

“Don’t you look gorgeous,” Carol said, sweeping inside and wrapping you in a hug, pressing a careful kiss to your cheek to preserve your makeup. Dave was less attentive in his greeting, more possessive and claiming with his kiss, smearing your lipgloss against his mouth as he pressed you against the countertop. Your hands flew up by their own volition, burying themselves in his hair right above that scar on his neck. You tugged him closer, as if you hadn’t seen him the day before.

You were really no different than your children at times.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You and Dave pulled apart to see Marcus standing at the door with a vase of flowers in his hands. He wore a burgundy suit that matched well with your dress, and his facial hair was trimmed but not shaved. If it weren’t for Dave’s hips keeping you pinned to the counter, you would have swooned.

“Not at all,” Carol sang, grinning as she puttered around your kitchen, brightening all corners in that unique way you loved about her. “Hello Marcus.”

“Carol,” he says softly, nodding his head. You disentangled yourself from a rather unhelpful Dave (who was grinning to himself in that infuriatingly handsome way) to welcome him in. You smoothed down your dress and thanked him for the flowers, unable to stop smiling. Any lingering nerves you’d had about the date were dashed to the wind. You leaned up on tiptoe to kiss Marcus’s cheek, too shy to show off the way Dave had so clearly wanted to.

“Did you coordinate this?” You asked, turning around to narrow your eyes at Dave.

His grin only went wider.

“I was wondering why there was a minivan escorting me to your apartment,” Marcus laughed, putting his hand on your waist. It was simple. It thrilled you.

“We can get out of your hair,” Carol said, sweeping across cracked linoleum like it was a pageant stage.

“Nonsense, you’re more than welcome to use my time,” Marcus said, smiling down at her with a sweet smile. Something about the exchange made your heart pound, and you watched as Dave rubbed at his chest almost nervously, if you didn’t know Dave York didn’t get nervous.

“Do you have an antacid?” Dave asked softly, pulling you from your reverie.

“Of course!”

##

Marcus drove carefully, only ever looking at you when you were stopped or parked. It left him open for you to observe him openly, which should have made him nervous, but after nearly a decade of missing your eyes on him, Marcus was ready to be in your crosshairs again. Your attention made the air sparkle for him. He felt envious of your daydreams.

When J had cornered him about going on a date with you, he’d agreed more on instinct than actual thought. At the same time he wanted to make up for his kid’s lost relationship with him, which made him agreeable to probably a detrimental point, but he also wanted to be a good dad who raised a good kid.

So it made sense to go on a date with you.

But he was also very, very nervous about it.

He hadn’t been on a date with someone since that singular failed rebound after Teresa, and that had (thankfully) been incomprehensible due to the loud music of the concert venue. He’d never seen that person again, which was probably for the best.

He’d chosen somewhere quiet and out of the way but not too out of the way, nowhere too intimate or quirky, nowhere he felt out of his element, nor would you feel the same. It was gallery night at a specific block of the Arts district in downtown. Marcus had reserved parking and tickets, and took you into the first gallery with nerves running high.

“I would have thought you didn’t want anything to do with art after…”

You bit off the rest of your sentence like a piece of food you didn’t particularly want to chew. He watched your expression shutter in embarrassment; you probably hadn’t wanted to say that. He did the brave thing and let himself be vulnerable with someone, despite everything in his life warning to the contrary.

“For a while I was pretty jaded, but that was more anger to the institutions that ruled me than the art itself. The art was always an innocent factor in the crimes we investigated, not alive yet still a victim. I think I understood that sentiment a little more when the dust finally settled.” He got you a small glass of wine from a tray going around, and you promenaded about the gallery, light jazz playing through hidden speakers in the ceiling.

You thanked him, absorbing what he had to say. “I always liked that about you. It took a lot to get you really angry about things, but your anger never manifested in violence or harsh words and actions. I felt comfortable making mistakes around you, when we were together before.”

Marcus felt his breath catch. Every time he thought of those few months, he found it difficult to breathe. He’d been so in love with you, and you must have had some idea. You must have known. The fact that love manifested in a perfect child he had the pleasure of knowing only made the whole thing fonder in his eyes.

The silence stretched out a little bit, and the two of you found yourselves laughing nervously, meeting eyes for fractions of seconds before glancing away. “I haven’t been on a date in a while; I don’t know what to say.”

“I wasn’t sure if this was first-date conversation or if it’s… well, something else.”

“My my, Mr. Pike, what kinds of things are you going to say?” You asked, teasing coming back like riding a bike.

“Whatever you’d like to hear,” he said, kissing the side of your head as you moved by him. It felt seared into your scalp the rest of the time you wandered through the gallery.

##

“So they’re all together?”

“No. Well. Kind of. Let me get a paper.”

“I think my daddy isn’t with them.”

“He’s not. Kind of. Not yet.”

“What do you mean?”

Molly watched her sister draw out a box in one color, and labeled each corner with a letter. “J’s mommy and daddy, our mommy and daddy. So they’re both together,” Alice drew a line connecting the C and the D, and another connecting the M and the final corner. “And then our mommy and daddy are with your mommy,” she made a triangle. “And I think your daddy wants to be with our daddy and mommy but I don’t know for certain.”

“How do we know for certain?” Molly asked, frowning. This whole thing stank of geometry, and where there were triangles, there were proofs, and Molly York hated little else more than proofs.

The three sat in contemplative silence for a while, frowning at the flowchart Alice had made in sparkly glitter crayon. Alice was thinking of possibly the most complicated way to get proof, much like her father would have. Molly was only pretending to think, still somewhat daydreaming about her jiu jitsu spar from that afternoon. This was also her father’s influence. J, however, had learned one thing from Dave York that his daughters had yet to fully manifest:

The creation of problems in as few words as possible.

“I’m gonna go ask.”

##

Marcus’s hands were some of your favorite things in the entire galaxy. He held yours like they were precious and fragile, and in your entire time of knowing him, you never once remembered them to be cold. They were warm and comforting and—

“Ah!”

—they knew all your buttons and just how hard to push, even after all these years.

In the back of his car, with the tinted windows and the leather seats, his hands were everywhere at once. Up your dress, between your thighs, around your breast, you name it, he was touching it. You’d never been so glad to have at least exfoliated before tonight, because he made you feel like a goddess for every second he touched you. His fingers rubbed tight little circles over your clit, through the thin material of your panties.

“Good girl, so sexy for me like this. Been thinking about this for a long time, so fucking long,” his lips brushed your ear as he breathed the words, sending shivers down your spine and lighting a fire in your veins. You didn’t want to full-on fuck in his car on the first date, but things were getting desperate. You thought you’d never be horny again, until Dave. Until Carol. Until, until, until.

You’d both stretched and snapped in places you’d been able to bend and flex before. Marcus’s fingers had a rougher quality to them - fieldwork - and your hips held weight put there by him - motherhood. Yet he couldn’t separate the two, holding you across years and silvery skin and calluses on his palms because his bones knew yours like God knew the stars.

“Wanna make you cum right here on my hand, can I do that? Do that and take you home?”

“Please!” You begged, pulling him in for a harder kiss, one that spoke of Dave’s influence on you. He’d opened up that possibility of want and have being the same word. Your pleasure was something to take and enjoy, never to sacrifice or withhold. You’d never cum so much in your life than when you were in the Yorks’ bed.

But here with Marcus, you felt a fiery intensity pass between your tongues like secret breaths from the depths of your lungs, exchanged and held and exchanged again. His forehead bumped yours, and you pulled back to look him in the eye. He wanted to watch you come apart for him. He watched you with the same concentrated focus he looked at compelling art with. He knew you knew what that look meant. It brought tears to your eyes as he plunged his fingers deep into you, curling and coaxing an orgasm out of you it made your head spin. You were pretty sure you bruised your wrist from smacking it so hard against the back window.

When you came back down to earth, he was kissing your collarbones so thoroughly your whole body tingled. “Fucking hell, Marcus,” you breathed, melting against the leather seats.

He huffed a laugh against your skin. “Back with me?”

“Don’t be smug,” you grinned, helpless as you nudged his shoulder.

“I think I made you see deities lost to time and legend. I can be a bit smug.”

“You interpret all that from one orgasm?”

“You’re right, we should incur further study.”

“You’re ridiculous. Take me to a bed and I’ll incur something better.”

##

Dave York didn’t get nervous.

Seeing his daughters and a child he was quickly growing to consider his own staring across the dining table at him with hands folded atop it was nerve-wracking.

At least Carol was there, flippantly calm as ever, like she wasn’t being subjected to tween attempts at telepathy.

The stares were getting to be a bit creepy, after all.

“I trust you know why we have called you here?” Alice said, and Dave was equal parts horrified and impressed by her composure, despite still calling things “mix-match” a week ago.

“To the contrary, Ms. York, we have no idea.”

Alice’s brows drew together, and the three huddled together, a Greek chorus deciding the fate of the immediate future. When they pulled apart, J spoke next.

“We wanted to ask you about your relationship.”

“Well, we got married in 199—”

“Not that one. We know about that one.”

“Even though, suspiciously, none of us were there.” Molly fixed her parents with a narrowed gaze.

“There were many reasons for that, you would have been invited had you been alive,” Dave said as lightly as he could manage.

“Oh.”

J picked up the thread. “About your relationship with my mommy and daddy.” Despite the bookended York bravado on either side of them, J looked genuinely curious, lacking the judgement and disapproval that Dave and Carol had privately feared since the beginning. It was relief and panic in the same offered hand.

“Well, we—”

“Polyamory is—”

“Sometimes I think about marriage again but—”

“Wait, you do?”

“Yeah, I just, I didn’t want to—”

“I have too!”

“Wait, really?”

The adult Yorks stumbled over their conversation in a way neither of their children had seen before. It stunned both daughters silent as they hot-potatoed their words back and forth, interspersed with laughter and smiles and hand-holding before they realized they really hadn’t answered the question.

“Oh, I’m sorry, J. We don’t really have an answer as simple as you’d probably like, but… we’re figuring things out too.”

J nodded. I’m figuring it out had always been an acceptable answer for them growing up. They were lucky to have grown up with a patient and caring mommy who understood mistakes and accidents were part of life, and nothing to be ashamed of. J wished you could be taught the same lessons you taught them.

“We shall recon-bean at a later date,” they declared. “The court is adjourned.”

When the kids cleared out, Dave turned to his wife and smirked, “We should have turned over the PTA job to J.”

##

“Fuck! Marcus!” You cried into his pillow, gripping his sheets and shaking beneath him as he pounded you into his mattress with love. You had no way of describing it besides that. You had no thoughts left in your head besides don’t stop don’t stop.

“That’s right, fuck I missed this pussy - every - day.” He groaned as he felt his peak rise again. “Gonna fucking cum in you again and eat it out of you.”

You could only give a high-pitched whine in response, rocking back harder against him. Dave had built up your tolerance (and desire) for rough sex, something that surprised Marcus when you’d asked him to put a hand on your throat. Feeling you squeeze his dick as you came all over him was worth squeezing your pretty little neck.

The two of you had lost count of whichever round this was. Marcus still had one sock on and you had nothing but your jewelry left, the rest adorning the floor of his sad, sparse apartment. There was timeless joy in your intimacy, stretching to let your time together simmer and shrinking to heal the rift between you and him.

You caught your breath after that round ended with a knee cramp in Marcus’s leg, from some injury he’d gotten just after leaving Florida. It signaled an end to tonight’s fun activities, and you helped massage it out with thumbs and kisses and a hilarious amount of lube. The two of you had gone a bit crazy at the CVS earlier that evening.

You thought catching up with him would be more painful. You thought talking about the space would only draw it out further. It did the opposite. You felt parts of your jagged heart knit back together with every time you shared laughter in his bed.

“What—?!” You wheezed.

“I know, I know, it’s terrible!” He laughed, red-faced. He buried his face in his hands as you caught your breath again and started shriek-laughing at his ceiling fan.

“Marcus Pike, you’re telling me that a woman agreed to marry you and your immediate reaction was to fistpump and say yesssssss like-like—I don’t even know, who does that?”

“I’ve only ever had someone say yes once before, I’m not exactly an expert.”

The reminder of his ex-wife didn’t sting as much as it had the first time he’d told you about Lacie. They’d been young and dumb in college and had lofty dreams of a white picket fence and 2.5 kids. When things broke down the first year he joined the FBI, they tried counseling and mediation, and Marcus had bent over backwards to try to make her happy. When it wasn’t enough, he swallowed his pride and signed the divorce papers. The period after that, his re-emergence into bachelorhood, had allowed him time to work on himself, and it was those first few halting steps of healing when he had met you.

“I’d say yes.”

You didn’t know what made you say it. It just sort of… tumbled out of your mouth, past your lips and into the open air between you. You couldn’t stop yourself.

“I would have said yes back in Florida, if you’d asked.”

The look on his face was pained, and he closed his eyes as he processed this. You felt your stomach start to sink, and more words poured forth.

“There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t think about how things might have been if I’d gone with you back to Austin.”

“Sunshine…” he whispered, leaning forward to thumb away at the sudden tears springing to your eyes. “Baby, why are you saying all this?”

“It’s the truth,” you sniffled. “I love you.”

His expression softened considerably, and he leaned forward to kiss your forehead. “I love you too.”

“Why does it feel like there’s a but in there?” you asked.

He shifted and pulled you up against his bare chest, kissing your head before speaking. “You’re with Carol and Dave. I don’t… I don’t want to come between the three of you just because I was too late.”

“But you’re not too late,” you insisted, looking up at him. “You’re not. And… they understand a lot more about polyamorous relationships than I do. You don’t… you don’t have to be with them too.”

The silence was telling. Marcus didn’t say anything. Bravely, you ventured forth.

“Do you want to be with them too, Marcus?”

His ears turned red, and he couldn’t meet your eyes. You had so much sympathy for him, eternal patience and love. You felt this way several weeks ago, wrestling with your own feelings that bucked the norm of monogamy and singleminded devotion. Marcus was running to catch up with you, but you were reaching behind to pull him closer.

“That’s okay, baby, I promise. I don’t know exactly how they feel towards it, but they’re always willing to talk about things I have questions about. You’re already part of our family, you know that right?”

Marcus pulled you in. “This is a lot to take in right now,” he murmured to your hair. You nodded.

“Let's just enjoy right now, then.”

[asirensrage]

What You Need - Billy Russo x OC Oneshot

Title: What You Need

Rating: M

Fandom: The Punisher (Takes place s2)

Warnings: sex.

Notes: I wanted to write smut today. This is the result. It's not beta'ed. Just an FYI. It's rough. Title is from the song by The Weeknd.

The OC is female but is currently unnamed and undescribed lol (but it is one I have a fic started for that's not posted or previously mentioned. surprise.)

She’s not sure how they got here. 

He’s behind her, hand on her throat as his lips move across her shoulder. She barely remembers taking off her shirt, but she doesn’t want him to stop. Even if he’s made sure she can barely touch him. 

“Billy…” she reaches back, trying to dig her hands into his hair. He pushes her arm away. 

“Hands down.”

She grips the wrist of the hand holding her neck. His other one cups one of her breasts, thumb rolling over her nipple. He drags his teeth over the skin of her neck. She can’t help but shudder in response. 

“Please.”

“You want something?” he asks softly. He tugs at the peak of her breast. “Tell me.” 

“Keep going.” 

“Why?” 

“Please.” She tries not to whine but it’s not enough. They’re both wearing too much. She wants to touch him but she’s trying to respect the fact he doesn’t want her to look at him. He doesn’t want her to touch him. Not yet. 

“Unbuckle your pants,” he tells her. He pressed his nose to the skin under her ear and inhales slightly. “Come on.” 

She does as he asks, head falling back against his shoulder as his hand moves down her chest, across her stomach before slipping under her underwear. She feels pinned by him, overwhelmed by the scent of his cologne, the heat of his chest against her back as his fingers press in. 

Her breath catches as he rubs small circles against her clit. He sucks hard against her skin, determined to leave his mark one way or another. 

Heat flares in her stomach as she gives in, holding the only parts he’ll let her. She runs her hands against his arms, trying to keep her legs from buckling under her. She grabs the wrist of the hand between her legs, trying to press it closer. 

“That feel good?” he asks. “Tell me. You want more?” 

“Yes. God yes.” 

“Keep telling me. I want to hear you. Pants off.” 

She shoves them down and Billy moves just enough so that she can shimmy them off of her legs. 

Once she’s free of them, he pushes her, guiding her to bend over and press the side of her face against the bed. His hands move, sliding lightly up and down her sides. Just enough to drive her insane. His mouth brushes down her spine before he lays open-mouthed kisses along it. 

One of his legs moves between hers before shifting her left one out more, spreading her stance wider. His hand trails up the back of her thigh. Goosebumps prickle in the wake. He presses a little closer, and her eyes close, feeling all at once bare and surrounded. She tries to shift back a bit, just to get closer. His hand presses flat on her back, holding her in place. She hears the sounds of clothing falling to the floor before his hand is back between her legs, fingers pushing in slowly.

“How long’s it been?” he asks. She almost doesn’t even hear him, lost in the way he’s moving his hand against her. 

“Long,” she breathes. 

“Hmm.” 

The pressure slowly builds as he takes his time, adding another finger as his thumb finds her clit. She arches, trying to move against him and gain more friction. He still keeps her pinned without pressing hard. The weight of him familiar and promising. 

“Please,” she begs. She’s so close and he’s playing with her, always slowing down as she gets close to the edge. 

“Please what? You like that?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” she repeats it like a mantra. “Don’t stop.” 

“You want me?”

“God yes!” 

He pulls his hand away from her and she can’t help the frustrated whine that slips out as she rests her forehead against the mattress. She was so close. 

“Please Billy,” she begs. “Please.”

His chest presses against her back. “Tell me what you want,” he asks, his lips at her ear.

“You,” she says. “I want you. Just you. Please please pl-” She breathes out sharply as she feels him angle himself against her and slowly presses in. He groans against her skin. It takes a moment to adjust to the feel of him but before she can demand that he move, he pulls out, just enough before his hips snap back to hers. 

All she can do is hold on, to the sheets, to his arm or the back of his head as he pulls her up, holding her by the throat again. It secures her against him and she can’t help but cry out at the feeling. It doesn’t take long before she feels like she’s breaking around him. 

“You want me to stop?” he asks, slowing down just enough to heighten his threat. 

“No, please, keep-” she cuts herself off with another moan as he pushes back it. 

“Then talk. Tell me you like it.”

“It’s so good,” she talks without thinking. All she wants is to make sure he doesn't stop. Not when he’s holding her against him, pushing into her over and over and she’s building right back up to another orgasm. “So good. Don’t stop, please, you’re so good. I want more.”

“Who do you want?” 

“You!” 

He lets go and she catches herself on the bed as she falls forward. His hands grip her hips as his pace increases. She cries out, losing herself in the feeling. 

“Fuck,” she hears him swear. His grip tightens further and she knows she’s going to bruise. She doesn't care. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he groans out the last word. She feels him pull out and cum against her back. 

She collapses forward on the bed, trying to catch her breath. She shifts forward, just enough that she can lie down properly. She’ll move to get cleaned up in a minute, she just needs a moment to breathe. He lies down next to her, lifting his head just enough to kiss her shoulder again. 

“Wow,” she says, looking over at him. 

He stares at her for a moment before he grins. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods. She really needs a shower or at least a washcloth, but she can’t find the energy to move yet. “Remind me to move in a minute. Don’t let me fall asleep yet, okay?” 

“Okay,” he agrees even as he shifts forward and slings an arm around her. She looks before reaching over and lacing her fingers with his other hand, slowly in case he wants to pull away. He moves faster, tightening his grip on her hand. She smiles softly. Such a change from when she first met him on those bleachers, lost and ready to run. 

He leans forward and kisses her cheek. She feels her eyes close as he rests his face right by hers. She hasn’t slept in over a day. She just needs a minute.

taglist: @raith-way  @ocfairygodmother @lokitrasho @zeleniafic @jvstjewels @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle @chickensarentcheap @booty-boggins @residentdormouse @delicateblackrose @stanshollaand @itscapokaybye @stone-hearted-seymour

[angelicyoongie]

Christmas in abundance

— pairing: hybrid bts x human f!reader — genre: fluff! — word count: 4.5K — summary: If the boys wanted to play Secret Santa, who were you to deny them? Though maybe, just maybe, you should’ve thought twice before adding a penalty to the mix. — a/n: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!! I hope you’ve all had a good and safe time. This Abundance christmas special does not have anything to do with the original story, so nothing that happens here will affect it. This is a little rough, ngl, but that’s what I get for not writing for a month lol. Either way, I hope you enjoy it!! 

"I'm home!" You shake off the lingering cold with a shiver, the warmth in the house wrapping around you pleasantly as you shrug off your coat. You barely have time to slip out of your boots before a body crashes into yours, a pair of strong arms pulling your body flush against a firm chest.

"You're late," Hoseok whines. The dog hybrid tucks his face into your neck with a huff, nose skimming against your throat as he works to cover the myriad of scents on your skin with his own.

"Sorry, I got held up a work," You sigh. "The office wants to do Secret Santa this year, so we had to figure out who would gift who.”

“Secret Santa?” A puzzled expression crosses Hoseok’s face as he pulls back.

“Oh, it’s a pretty simple game many people like to play during the holidays! You draw a random name, buy that person a gift, and then try your best to keep it a secret that it’s you,” You say, a smile tugging at your lips at how adorably confused the dog hybrid looks. The golden tail behind his back halts its quick movement; Hoseok’s head tilting slightly as he takes in your explanation. His eyebrows furrow as he thinks, an emotion you can’t quite place flickering in his eyes before he suddenly breaks out into a big grin, “Can we do it too? It sounds like fun!”

“Of course!” You say. “Just ask the others if they want to do it to? It won’t be much of a game if it’s just us two.” You reach up to gently ruffle his hair, the dog hybrid nearly falling over himself as he tries to lean into your touch.

“I need to go freshen up, I’ll see you guys for dinner?” You let out a soft laugh as Hoseok nods into your palm, a pout forming on his lips as you pull away.

“I’ll go ask them,” He gives you a bright smile before you turn to hurry up the stairs, more than ready to get into some comfortable clothes. Hoseok watches you leave, his smile falling into a frown as you round the corner.

He quickly walks down the hallway, mouth set in firm line as he turns into the kitchen and says, “We have to be secretive Santa’s.” The room grows quiet as six pairs of eyes find Hoseok’s form in the doorway, their stares a mixture of apprehension and bewilderment at the sudden declaration from the dog hybrid.

“What?” Namjoon sputters.

“Are you okay, hyung?” Taehyung rushes forward to place his hand against Hoseok’s cheek, his fox ears pinned to his head in worry.

“Did you hit your head?” Yoongi leans against the counter with a faint smirk, his dark tail swishing playfully behind his back as Namjoon shoots him a sour look. Hoseok only gives Yoongi a huff in response before he gently removes Taehyung’s hands from his face, pressing a soft peck against his palm at the worried expression on his packmate’s face.

“I’m fine Tae,” Hoseok assures him. “Y/n told me about a game humans play during the holidays. They draw a random person and have to gift them something, and since she’s playing it with her co-workers, we obviously have to play it too. We have to give her the best gift.” Looks of understanding flashes across the other hybrids’ faces, and Namjoon lets out a hum of approval at his packmate’s quick thinking. They can’t have their courting be upstaged by a human.

“But it has to be a secret,” Hoseok’s words are met by a displeased hiss, Jimin narrowing his eyes at the dog hybrid. Yoongi places his hand at the back of Jimin's neck, giving him a comforting squeeze as he says, “Well, it doesn’t really matter who gives her the present, right? As long as whatever we give is better than what the human gives her.” Jimin looks like he wants to protest, but a quirk of Yoongi’s brow in his direction settles him quickly, the younger cat hybrid leaning against his alpha with a defeated pout.

“What about the rest of the presents?” Jeongguk’s soft voice takes them all by surprise, the bunny hybrid hardly ever speaking up when they’re all together in one room. Jeongguk keeps his eyes trained on Hoseok, trying his best to ignore how his body grows more and more tense for each second as the attention shifts to him.

“Uh, I guess the rest will just gift each other something?” Hoseok clears his throat, heat creeping up the back of his neck as he finds himself pinned under the bunny hybrid’s big questioning eyes.

“Boring,” Jimin mutters. As Yoongi’s gaze narrows at his packmate, Seokjin hurriedly adds, ”If it’ll make Y/n happy, then I’m in.”

“Me too,” Jeongguk murmurs.

“Me three!” Taehyung grins.

“Sure, we’re in too,” Yoongi waves them off, his hand still tight on the younger cat hybrid’s neck.

“Fine,” Jimin sighs. Namjoon rolls his eyes with a faint smile as Jimin’s tail betrays his indifference, the younger cat hybrid obviously excited at the prospect of receiving a gift judging by the excited flick the end of his tabby tail does. “So we’re all in then,” Namjoon says.

“Great!” Hoseok beams, “I’ll go tell Y/n.”  

❅ 

You grab another box, wobbling slightly as you take your first step down the ladder. You can’t believe it’s almost Christmas already. The last weeks have passed by in a blur of important court cases, and aside from greeting the boys when you leave and come back home from work; you haven’t had any spare time to spend with them. You feel bad. Not only because you miss them, and you know they miss your company too, but also because this is your first Christmas together, and you had wanted to make December as magical as possible. But, thanks to all the late nights you pulled at the office earlier in the year, you’ve earned yourself some extra days off. So, while you might not have been able to make all of December an adventure for them, you’re going to try your hardest to make the next three days leading up to Christmas Eve as fun as possible.

“Hey Namjoon, can you help me with this?” You call out over the boxes stacked in your arms, gritting your teeth as you try to make it down the attic ladder in one piece. Maybe you only should’ve done one at the time, but where’s the fun in that? There’s nothing quite like the idea of falling and breaking a bone to really get the Christmas spirit pumping through your veins.

You let out a sigh of relief as heavy box on top is removed, but the sight that greets you over the cardboard wasn’t one you were ready for. The wolf hybrid has a sweet smile on his face, dimples on full display as he easily hefts the box under his arm. It’s just so domestic that it makes your heart skip a traitorous beat; almost making you miss the last step as you stumble down into the hallway.

“You okay?” Namjoon takes a step closer as he looks you up and down, his free hand reaching for your arm in case you feel unsteady on your feet.

“I’m fine!” You wince inwardly at the high pitch of your voice, plastering on a strained smile as you try to get a better grip at the decorations in your arms. 

“Just, you know .. excited for Christmas!” You barrel past him before he can see the flush creeping up your neck. As you hurry down the stairs, you can’t help but mentally curse yourself for how just seeing Namjoon holding a box and looking cute manages to short-circuit your brain. How the hell are you supposed to survive seeing the rest of the boys decorating the whole house?

❅

“Yoongi, that’s not ..” You bite back a laugh as the cat hybrid ignores you, practically folding himself in half to make sure he fits inside the empty cardboard box. You watch as Yoongi gets up and sits back down, folding his limbs this way and that way until he’s happy with his position.

“What?” He glares in your direction when he notices your amused stare, his tail puffing up defensively as you shake your head.

“Nothing. It’s cute,” You giggle. You turn before you can see the faint flush in Yoongi’s cheeks, the cat hybrid sinking down lower in the box to hide how pleased he is at your comment. You open another box, pulling out the rather tiny assortment of tinsel and garlands you’ve saved over the last years. It might have taken up a lot of room in your old apartment, but you doubt it’ll be enough to decorate past the first floor in this house. You do have time to run to the store and get some more, but even just imagining the crowds doing all their last minute shopping makes you want to shudder. It’ll just have to do this year.

“Hyung, I need those,” You hear a soft grumble from the couch as Jeongguk pushes Seokjin away from the nearly empty popcorn bowl, the hamster hybrid making a discontent noise as it’s moved away from him. The popcorn and cranberry string is looking a little short considering how much you gave them earlier, but you quickly realize the problem when Seokjin turns in your direction. He’s storing his snacks.

The hamster hybrid’s cheeks are so puffed out you’re honestly surprised he can even close his mouth. You stifle your laughter as you turn your attention back to the tinsel, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. It’s honestly adorable, but you know the boys can get embarrassed over instincts they can’t control, so if it’s something as harmless as eating popcorn and taking up residence in a box, you’re more than happy to pretend you haven’t seen anything.

“Hobi, can you help me with this?” You call over the dog hybrid, gesturing to the tinsel. You’re sure it’ll go much faster putting it all on the tree if you’re two people doing it.

“Sure!” Hoseok grins.

“If you go stand on the other side of the tree, we can just pass it back and fourth,” The dog hybrid easily follows your instructions, and you’ve already gotten the tinsel wrapped around the tree a few times before it abruptly stops. You frown, giving it a few tugs in case it got caught on the wrong branch, but it’s not moving. You peak around the tree, confused as to why it’s stuck when you have so much length left, but the reason becomes apparent when you find Hoseok’s hand tightly wrapped around the glittery garland.

“Hobi?” You give it a small tug, and the dog hybrid only smiles sheepishly in response as he immediately tugs back.

“Sorry,” Hoseok whines as he pulls his hand back again, the golden ears on top of his head drooping. “I didn’t let go of the tinsel before you pulled and ..” Ah. You let the garland go slack in your hands, and the dog hybrid only stares at the glitter for a few seconds before his grip loosens as well. His instincts thought you were playing tug of war. “Sorry,” He repeats.

“Hobi, it’s fine! I really don’t mind. Maybe we can play some actual tug of war later if you want to shift?” You offer.

“Really?” You can see the uncertainty still lingering in Hoseok’s eyes, but the tail behind his back can’t help but do a few excited wags.

“Of course. We can go outside the moment we finish decorating,” You grin. Hoseok’s face lights up, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he gently nudges you out of the way, taking the tinsel out of your hands. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone decorate a tree that fast, the dog hybrid practically vibrating with excitement as he shoves a container of ornaments into Jimin and Taehyung’s hands.

“Hurry, hurry,” Hoseok mutters as he throws a look at Namjoon, confirming that the alpha is stringing lights above the window like he's supposed to.

“Right,” You smile, grabbing the closest ornaments to hang them on the tree. You let your eyes drift around the room as you place the first ornament, your chest almost feeling like it’s going to burst with fondness as you see all the hybrids look so focused on their different tasks. It’s moments like this where it’s easy to forget all the arguments and nasty behaviours that have transpired between the packs. You’re not gullible enough to believe that it’ll just be smooth sailing from here on out, but can you always hope. That’s what Christmas is for, after all.  

❅

“Okay! Is everyone ready?” You say, taking your place on the floor in front of the pile of Secret Santa gifts. You honestly feel like you’re going to roll away on the floor if you happen to topple over, your belly full and sated with all the delicious Christmas foods you’ve eaten over the last hours. Jeongguk and Jimin are the first ones to reach your side, each taking up the space next to you as the others settle down in a circle. You’ve been collecting gifts from all over the house, trying your best to keep the whole game as anonymous as possible. You’re about to reach out for the first gift when you remember something you used to do with friends when you were younger, something that make the game a little more exciting.

“Boys, how do you feel about adding a punishment to the game?” Jimin and Hoseok both sit up a little straighter at your words, all the hybrids snapping to attention. The three alphas all share a look, a weird glint in them you haven’t seen before.

“Punishment?” Jeongguk stiffens as the air in the room grows heavier. Maybe that was a poor choice of words.

“Oh no, I meant like a .. penalty? Like if the receiver can figure out who their gift is from, then the giver has to do a penalty?” You say, placing a comforting hand on the bunny hybrid’s knee.

“A penalty is fine,” Jeongguk says, beginning to relax under your touch, “but what would it be?”

“How about the receiver decide the punishment?” Taehyung offers, a lazy smirk on his face as he leans back on his hands, “Wouldn’t that be fair?” You know the fox hybrid always tries to win by whatever means necessary, and that it usually spells trouble for you, but it’s Christmas Eve, so if there was ever a day to indulge Taehyung, this would be it.

“Sure. I don’t mind if the others are okay with it,” You shrug. There’s immediately a small chorus of agreement, and you take that as the go to give out the first present.

“First one is .. Seokjin!” The hamster hybrid takes the present from your hands cautiously, the room falling silent as he unwraps it. Hoseok snorts as he sees the item, the furrow between Seokjin’s eyes disappearing as soon as it shows up.

“Shampoo,” He announces.

“Well?” You prompt when the hamster hybrid places the item behind his back and out of sight, “Who do you think it’s from?” You swear you see the quick flicker of Seokjin’s gaze to Jimin, but it happens so fast you can’t be sure. The cat hybrid still has an easy smile on his face, and there’s nothing in his face that gives him away if he was the one behind Seokjin’s gift.

“I have no idea,” Seokjin shakes his head. “Let’s move on to the next one?”

“Sure,” You try to shake off weird feeling in your gut as you pick up the next gift. There’s no reason for them to pretend they don’t know who gifted them their presents, you must still be stressed after the intense week of work you had before your days off.

“Let’s see .. Namjoon!” The wolf hybrid gives you a bright smile as he takes his present, the grin never leaving his face as he rips through the paper. You notice the bunny hybrid stiffening next to you as Namjoon sees his present, his gray ears twitching slightly.

“A comb,” Namjoon waves it in the air quickly, the motion almost a blur as you only pick up the dark colour before he places it between his crossed legs. The wolf hybrid’s gaze scans quickly around the group before he shrugs, “No clue who it’s from though.”

Jeongguk lets out a small breath of air next to you, and when you think about it, didn’t that blur look similar to the comb the bunny hybrid uses for his ears? Before you can open your mouth to ask, Jimin hands you the next present with a sweet smile. Normally, that would put your worries at ease, but the lazy swishes of the tabby hybrid’s tail just makes you more suspicious. They’re definitely up to something.

The feeling only grows as you work through the presents. The boys casually hide their gifts before you can get a good look at them, and they somehow never know who the giver is, despite it being glaringly obvious whom it’s from with how the other hybrid perks up when their gift is unwrapped. You can’t figure out who gifted you the customized ink pen either, although Namjoon looked particularly proud when you couldn’t wipe the shocked smile off your face.

“This is just what I wanted!” You say. You think you might have mentioned it in passing a while back, but you never expected someone to actually remember it.

“Is it a better Secret Santa gift than the one you got at work?” Hoseok asks. The dog hybrid looks a little anxious, his canines digging into the soft flesh of his lips as his gaze shifts between your face and the gift in your hands.

“Of course it is! Soo-hyun got me an ugly Christmas mug she knew I would hate,” You snort, “There’s no way it could beat this!” You look down at the pen again, just missing the shared expression of relief that crosses the boys’ faces as you admire the sleek black and silver design.

“Anyway, let’s move on to the next gift!” You say. “It’s for .. Yoongi!” You hand the second to last gift to the cat hybrid, Yoongi’s sharp nails slicing through the paper with no trouble.

“A book, wonderful,” He smirks before he places it behind his back. You frown as you see the cover that is all too familiar, is that the book your aunt gifted you those years ago? The heavy atmosphere is back in the room as eight pairs of eyes shift to the last present on the floor. You swallow thickly, trying your best to school your features into something neutral. It’s your gift. And there’s no way you’re going to let him figure out it’s you, not when you were the one to come up with the penalty in the first place.

“Me!” Taehyung exclaims with a boxy grin as he picks up the last gift, his slender fingers carefully opening the paper. The fox hybrid lets out a delighted gasp as he uncovers the console games, his tail swishing wildly behind his back in excitement.

“Thank you Y/n!” Taehyung’s eyes sparkle as he meets your gaze, and the “You’re welcome!” tumbles out before you can stop it. You wince as something mischievous settles in Taehyung’s handsome features, the fox hybrid looking pleased with himself that you managed to slip up.

“How did you know it was me?” You groan.

“You have a tell,” Taehyung says.

You have? .. Crap. “What is it?”

“It’s a secret,” The fox hybrid smirks. Secret Santa was definitely not a hybrid game – the boys had come to realize that as soon as the first gift was handed out. The presents reek of the giver, but of course, that’s not something your human nose would be able to pick up.

“Fine,” You pout, tracing your finger over the pen in your lap, “What’s my penalty?”

The fox hybrid’s face grows serious as his gaze shifts around the room, searching for something to use as your punishment. You can’t help the way your stomach flips with nerves – or is it maybe excitement? – as you wait for him to figure it out. If it’s one thing you’ve come to learn, it’s that these boys are never predictable. Taehyung’s orange ears perk up as his eyes suddenly catch on an item, and Yoongi lets out a low hiss as he follows the fox hybrid’s line of sight. You barely have time to blink before Taehyung springs to his feet to grab your hand, dragging you along with him over to the living room entrance. You suck in a surprised breath as you find yourself standing directly underneath the mistletoe, Taehyung’s hand warm around yours as he gently pulls you a step closer.

“Only if you want to,” He says. Taehyung’s low murmur soothes the nerves prickling under your skin, the obvious fondness on his face easing your fears. The problem isn’t that you don’t want to, it’s that you do. And not just with Taehyung, but with all seven of them.

“It’s okay,” You hesitantly place your hand on Taehyung’s shoulder, the fox hybrid’s muscles jumping under your touch. You spare a glance back the rest of the boys when you notice just how silent the room has become, a flush creeping up your cheeks as you find all six of them staring at the both of you with an intensity you haven’t seen before. You quickly turn your attention back to Taehyung, the fox hybrid’s eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rise up at the tip of your toes.

You ground yourself in Taehyung’s firm grip around your hand, the fox hybrid’s warm breath spilling across your mouth as you lean in closer. Your aim is a little off, the lush dark lashes across Taehyung’s cheekbones distracting you enough that the kiss that was meant for his cheek, ends up at the corner of his mouth instead. When you pull back, you find Taehyung’s wide sparkling eyes already trained on your face, the fox hybrid gazing at your reverently for a few seconds before he dives down to bury his face in your neck.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” You let out a choked giggle at Taehyung’s words, stroking his back affectionately as he tries his best to rub your shared scent back on your skin.

“Me next,” You nearly jump out of your skin as you find Hoseok standing next to you, the rest of the boys lined up behind him with sheepish smiles.

“I thought this was supposed to be a penalty?” You quirk a brow, gently untangling yourself from Taehyung as the dog hybrid begins to move impatiently in place.

“Kissing Taehyung is just nice, it’s not a penalty unless you do it to all of us,” Hoseok whines. You catch Jeongguk nodding his head behind Yoongi’s shoulders, his long ears flopping from the force. Well, you think, what’s the harm?

“Fine,” You usher Taehyung over to the couch, turning back around to face Hoseok. “One mistletoe kiss coming right up.” The dog hybrid practically vibrates out of his skin when your lips touch his cheek, and he doesn’t waste any time mixing his scent like Taehyung had once you pull back.

You can see Namjoon’s silver tail wag behind his back as you place both hands on his shoulders, needing a little extra boost to reach his cheek. A dimple blooms where you delivered a soft peck, and Namjoon briefly touches his cheek against the top of your head before he joins his pack on the couch.

Jimin steps up next, placing his hands behind his back as he offers his cheek with a playful grin. “One penalty please,” He says.

“Of course,” You place your hand on Jimin’s jaw, holding him in place as you kiss his cheek. You catch the slight disappointment in the cat hybrid’s eyes as you pull back, but the gentle touch of your fingertips tracing his jaw is enough to wash it away. Taehyung might be the fox, but Jimin is by far the slyest when it comes to getting what he wants.

“Not yet,” You murmur, taking a step back. Jimin nods, his eyes filled with warm understanding as gently rubs his cheek against your shoulder before he lets Yoongi take his place. The alpha regards you with hooded eyes as you peck his cheek, a faint purr spilling from his chest as he rubs your mixed scent against the opposite shoulder. The soft fur on his ears tickle your throat, and the cat hybrid offers you a low thank you before he steps away.

“You okay?” Jeongguk’s cheeks are bright red as he takes Yoongi's place, but the bunny hybrid hurriedly nods in response. You can almost feel the jittery energy coursing through his body as you step closer, Jeongguk inhaling sharply as your lips make contact with his skin. The bunny hybrid shyly takes your hand in his, bringing it up to rub your wrist against his freshly kissed cheek. Jeongguk hurries off before you can say anything, his tail twitching rapidly behind his back as he joins the rest.

Seokjin has a fond look in his eyes as he steps closer. The hamster hybrid leans down slightly, just enough that his mouth graces you ear as he murmurs, ”You took your punishment well.” You feel plush lips against your cheek before Seokjin pulls back, a knowing smile spreading across his face as your fingers trace the spot he kissed. You stand there a little stunned as Seokjin joins Jeongguk on one of the couches, praying that the hamster hybrid didn’t notice the shiver that bolted down your spine at his words.

You awkwardly clear your throat as you realize they’re all waiting for you to join them, gesturing over to the TV as you say, “Do you want to watch a Christmas movie?” 

You let the boys argue over which movie to watch, quickly putting on your old copy of Home Alone once they’ve decided. You squeeze into the spot between Yoongi and Namjoon on the couch, the two alphas shifting closer the moment you’re settled; their sides flush with yours as you press play on the movie.

As the minutes begin to trickle by, you catch yourself watching the boys more than the colourful screen, a pleasant and comforting warmth spreading through your body as they laugh and giggle at the funny moments. Truthfully, the seven hybrids fill a space you hadn’t even realized was empty. And now – sitting here in your cozy living room with lights twinkling all around, you don’t think there’s anything else you could ever want.

You already have it all right here.