#he usually doesn’t have peas and got overwhelmed

[indagold-orchid]

confronting my massive son for having a temper tantrum over peas yesterday

[bellamyblake]

Part 39 of the single!dad Bellamy fic is posted! Here are the people who asked to be tagged (if you want to be removed please let me know): @pendragaryen, @takamurasposts, @star-sky-earth, @blakecholls, @theturquoiseoillady, @sarcasticcommentsetc, @peggysousfan, @whiteoleander, @chickens474; (I unfortunately can't tag everyone as some new Tumblr rule forbids me to do so! Sorry!)

(moodboard by @star-sky-earth​​​​):

Aurora notices it when they’re in the mess hall where the queues are shorter and more desks worked.

“Sit down, come on-” she urges him to one of the metal benches near the big tables. His breathing is uneven and his face is white as if he’s about to pass out any moment now, but it looks like his cough isn’t the problem this time but rather the pain in his leg.

 “Rest while I get this, alright?” he tries to sit up and protest but she pushes his back against the table and says something that he can’t make out because his ears are ringing.

The pain is suddenly overwhelming like it usually was only either early in the morning or late at night when he came home. He forces himself to move closer and pull his pant leg up to look at the bandage on his cut that seems fine-there was just a little bit of blood in the middle but when he touched it carefully it didn’t hurt.

Or perhaps he couldn’t actually feel any of it?

He’s so lost in his pain and thoughts that he doesn’t realize Aurora’s came back.

“What’s that?” she asks when she drops all the stuff she bought on the table and sits by his side “You got hurt?”

“It’s just a scratch. I’ve cleaned it and patched it up.” he brushes her off and pulls his pant leg down moving on from the subject before she can keep prodding. He looks at the other big brown bag that was much bigger than what he thought it’d be and she pulls it down between them opening it up a bit for him to see.

“Got two boxes of Formula, some tomatoes and bananas, more coffee for you, bread, an actual big loaf of bread, some eggs and a small pack of jerky as well as corn and pea cans since I assume you’re tired of the beans.”

“Mom, that’s too much, we can’t-”

“Yes, you can!” she insists “Gus and Clarke will need this now, to get their strength back and so will you. You have to eat well and I won’t take no for an answer, Bellamy.”

“What about you?”

“I have enough.” she nods at the two bowls of algae that were her rations for the day.

“That is not it!” Aurora ignores him and stands up, motioning for him to get going. He’s slow on raising himself up this time and he staggers despite the crutch by his side so she wraps her hand around his other arm and helps him walk. 

He feels weak, too weak for her liking and on the way home she asks him how long has it been since he slept or ate, which took him a while to remember. He worked all night long, almost over ten hours, went through hell with what happened with Miller and then Gus and Clarke so it has been over a day since he got any actual rest.

When they make it back in, they find the room thankfully warm enough for Bellamy to start sweating. Electricity was full back on and according to the announcements on the station hallways that they heard on the way home, it wouldn’t be stopped for three days apart from a few hours at night which was more than gracious from the chancellor or more like just a measure that secured Factory people wouldn’t protest.

What startles him is the crying coming from the bed. When both of them make it in, they see Clarke sitting up and holding a wailing Gus in her arms, trying to soothe him.

“I want dada!” the kid was screaming his guts out, crying out loud like when Bellamys only heard of him as a baby “I WANT DADA!”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s fine, Gus, it’ll be okay.” Clarke tried holding him up in her arms but the kid screamed and kicked, tossed and turned in her arms and she was unable to do absolutely nothing to stop him.

Gus had kicked off the blankets and Bellamy could see that the bandage they’ve done on his foot was undone, probably from all of his kicking and the hustle of trying to get away. 

“Dada! I want DADA!” he kept screaming. Clarke looked up when she saw them by the door and shook her head just barely at Bellamy who pulled away from his mom’s embrace, let go of his crutch letting it fall on the floor instead of leaning it on the wall like he usually did and tried to basically run to the bed, almost falling off in the process.

“Gus!” he called out, trying to keep his voice steady “Gus, dad’s here!” the kid turned his head around and Bellamy could see his red blotchy face, the fear in his eyes, his desperate cries. 

He manages to sit down and open his arms for his son, letting Clarke maneuver him gently over, though he kept kicking and screaming.

“Quiet, shhhh, quiet now, I’m here, son, I’m here-” Bellamy pushed him to his chest and started rubbing his hand up and down on his tiny back-he was warm, finally, nothing like what he had been before but Bellamy still pulled one of the blankets and covered him with it. “Shhh, shh, dad’s here, I’m right here, baby boy.”

“Dada!” he cried and buried his face in his chest “Dada, dada...”

“It’s okay, it’s alright.”

“You were gone.” Gus cries out and Bellamy looks at Clarke who’s still sitting up there at a loss for words, panicking that she couldn’t do anything. “You...gone...you-”

“I’m so sorry, I had to go get you some medicine, okay?” Bellamy explains kissing the top of his head while the kid kept wailing in his arms-he seemed inconsolable, crying because he was confused and maybe in pain rather than just because his dad was gone-he was scared, too many things were happening all at once and he woke up delusioned in Clarke’s arms when the last thing he remembered was the coldness of the bathroom and Bellamy saying goodbye to him.

“What happened?” Bellamy asks when he lifts them up and starts walking around the room, gently swaying Gus in his arms, trying too sooth him, the kid wouldn’t stop crying, sobbing, his voice was hoarse as he kept wailing for his dad, even though Bellamy was already holding him.

“I don’t know, he just...we were sleeping and he woke up a minute or two before you came in. He was scared, I tried to talk to him but he wouldn’t listen.”

“Dada! DADAAAA!” he kept yelling and sobbing in his arms, he was drooling on his chest and fisting his shirt with his tiny hands as he did so-it was exactly how he looked like as a baby when he was wailing for his mom after she’d been gone. 

“He’s scared.” Aurora chimes in, dropping all the food on the table and coming by Bellamy’s side, rubbing Gus’ back as well and calling out to him “Turn him over, like a baby, give him your finger to suck on.” she instructs and Bellamy has some trouble doing so but finally he manages to twist him around with much shooshing and reassurances and then as Gus keeps wailing and tossing so hard that Bellamy was afraid he may drop him, he shoved his index finger in his mouth and the kid suddenly stopped.

He started sucking on it, calming down.

“There you, there you go, good boy, I’m right here, alright? Just calm down, dad’s here, do you see me?” he asks and Gus’ eyes widen-up until that point he had no clue that he was in his father’s arm-he was just panicking, thinking they were passing him from one person to the other but now, now he was calming, breathing heavily and he was staring up ahead at his father with recognition.

“Dada?” he asks when Bellamy pulls his finger away once he’s sure he’s calmer. His body relaxes in his dad’s but it’s shaking from all the stress he’s just experienced. 

“I’m here, kiddo.” Bellamy promises and carefully walks to the chair by the table and sits them down, propping him up a little and kissing his forehead, his cheeks all over while also holding his hand and never really stopping the soothing little rocks of his arm. “You’re not alone, I’m here, grandma’s here and Clarke too.” he tells Gus and the kid looks around finding the others in the room as well. Aurora sits on the chair next to them and Clarke moves in bed but Bellamy doesn’t miss the way she coughs as she does so. 

“Do you remember what happened last night?”

“The...the electwicity stopped.”

“That’s right-” Bellamy knew a way of helping anxiety was to take the mind off the panic and talk about something “And dad had to go out to help fix it. I left you here with Clarke in the bathroom, do you recall that?” Gus nods a little and turns his head to Clarke.

“She kept me warm.” he said and Clarke smiled at his words softly, carefully standing up and picking Rainbow from the bed, staggering herself until she reached them and handed him the toy, which Gus wraps in his arms right away as he rests his head against Bellamy’s chest. 

Aurora sees how unstable she is on her feet, so she stands up and pushes a chair for her to sit on by Bellamy’s side. Now all three of them were essentially circled around Gus who was the middle of their tiny universe, in a desperate attempt to show him their love and that they weren’t going anywhere.

“You kept me warm too, sweet cheeks.” Clarke says rubbing his knee with her hand making him smile a little.

“Did you fix the engine, dada?”

“We sure did, son.” Bellamy says carefully “Do you not feel the warmth?”

“I guess...” Gus shrugs a little but shivers again in his arms and Bellamy looks at Clarke and his mom in panic. Clarke senses it and reaches to touch his elbow.

“It’s normal. He’d probably feel cold for a day or two until all senses come back to him.” she assures and Bellamy exhales a little even though he’s still scared.

“Do you hurt somewhere?” Bellamy asks him and Gus in a fashion much similar to his father, shrugs a little, making Clarke roll her eyes at the stubborn Blake men. “How about your foot? Your toes?”

“They huwt, yes.” he admits “What happened?”

“You got some frostbite on your toes and foot-” Clarke explains patiently as she leans closer to him “It happens when you’re in a really cold place like we were last night. I wrapped it up but your dad went to get more medicine so you can heel faster.”

“Will I lose my toes like Frankie, dada?” Gus asks confused, panic rising to his voice again “Will I get them cut off?”

“No!” Bellamy assures even though he has no way of knowing what exactly will happen “We just need to bandage them and make sure you stay off your leg for a while until you recover, okay?” Gus doesn’t seem too convinced, so Bellamy nods at his mom to take out the medicine and shows him the paste they got as well as all the bandages and how Clarke would fix him right up.

“Okay?” Bellamy asks.

“Okay...” Gus agrees and lets Clarke take off his sock and undo the bandage. His eyes get fixated on it so Bellamy calls out on him, forces him to look up. 

“Hey, it’s alright, it’ll be fine. I know it hurts a lot but you don’t have to hide-you can cry if it does. In fact, you need to tell us when you do so we can help out, okay?” Gus nods.

“You won’t weave, right?”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Bellamy promises.

“No work?”

“No, it’s a day off for us a all and I’ll have the next few off as well, so I can be with you and Clarke, okay?” Gus’ eyes lit up at that and he seems to feel a tad better when he hears it but he still buries his face in his dad and holds on tight while Clarke takes care of his foot.

When she’s undone the bandage and takes the paste Bellamy and Aurora bought Gus starts pulling his foot away whenever she touches him.

“It urts!” he cries out quietly “Dada, it urts.”

“I know, I know it does but Clarke has to put some cream on it to get better and you have to give her a moment, alright?” Bellamy insists holding his foot in his hand trying to prevent the kid from moving. “You have to be strong like when she gives you your vaccines, okay?” Gus whimpers and Aurora leans in too and reaches for his hand.

“Hey, you know your dad was hurt like this too.” she says softly and Gus stares at her curiously, forgetting for a moment what Clarke was doing even if his foot still jerked back involuntarily. 

“Weally?”

“Yes, he was still a baby and he cried a lot too but he got better.” Aurora assures “And you will to, my boy, I promise.” she leans closer and kisses his forehead “You just have to listen to what Clarke and dad say and you’ll be fine.”

“Okay...” Gus agrees and then looks up at Bellamy who’s nodding gratefully at his mom “But you won’t let me go, right?”

“Never.” Bellamy promises and holds him while Clarke separates his toes and has to gently cover each one with the paste. Bellamy can’t take looking at them-it just hurts him too much to see his son in so much pain, so he just focuses on holding Gus and talking to him, telling him a story about a greek god of war called Ares who was too angry for the world to handle. Gus was half-listening but his attention was on his dad despite feeling the pain and trying to get free of Clarke’s expert hands. When she’s done with the bandage he’s exhausted and he relaxes against his dad’s embrace, starting to doze off a little. 

“Now your leg.” Aurora tells Bellamy surprising both him and Gus. “Put it on the chair, let Clarke fix that bandage of yours.”

“But-”

“Dada, are you hurt?” Gus asks perking up a little, worry peppering his face and Bellamy throws his mom a look suggesting she really shouldn’t have said anything about this. Gus already had enough on his plate. 

“It’s just a scratch.” Bellamy lies stroking his head “Dad fixed it up himself.”

“Poorly, I’m sure.” Clarke huffs as she pats his leg “Move it up, I have to see it.” Bellamy groans frustrated and then stretches his leg out but the truth is that he can’t move it up on his own and he gives Clarke a look suggesting that he just can’t do it which breaks her heart. She carefully takes him by the ankle and moves him up making him groan in the process. It’s a little hard to maneuver himself, so that he can keep holding Gus and not be in any more pain than he already was but it worked somehow and when Clarke pulled his pant leg up and undid his bandage, Gus perked up a little and stared at his cut.

“Dada you and I both are huwt.” he says looking up and Bellamy nods as he cupped his cheek.

“Yes, we are.” Gus mwhms sadly and stares down at Clarke while she fixes Bellamy’s leg, cleans up the cut and mumbles about it needing stitches despite Bellamy refusing to admit so. He has to hold onto himself and not pass out when she starts piercing his skin with the needle but he still jumps a little much like Gus did when she was treating him. 

“Youw so stwong, dada.” he mumbles then “You don’t huwt.”

“Yes, I do, baby boy. I just am used to handling it.” Bellamy says when he rubs his nose against Gus’.

“Gus has to be laik that too.”

“No, you don’t.” Bellamy shakes his head sternly “I don’t ever want you to think you need to handle pain. You won’t be like me, okay?” Gus seems to be too tired to understand so he doesn’t answer, he just snuggles up in his dad’s chest and rests his tiny hand against his heart. “Hey...you hungry, little man? How about some food, huh?”

“No.” Gus shakes his head “Now hungwy.”

“Gus, you haven’t eaten since yesterday.” Bellamy scolds and Aurora reaches to cover Bellamy’s hand with her own.

“Neither have you. I’ll make him some formula, I think he’s too exhausted to eat anything else and I’ll wrap something up for you too.” 

“Mom, we-”

“And then you go to bed.” she insists and gives Clarke a look “He hasn’t slept in over a twenty hours.” she nods just as she’s wrapping up his bandage and moves her hands up to his knee.

“He’s also in pain.” she adds and Bellamy rolls his eyes and huffs at them worrying over him but when Clarke squeezes his knee and he jumps in his seat, stirring Gus in the process, making him cry out because he’s just fallen and was suddenly startled, Clarke almost regrets it.

Almost.

“Bed-” she huffs “Now!”

“Hey, you’re no better either, miss I’m-coughing-my-lungs-out!” he cuts her off as he rocks Gus up and down to sooth him and kisses his face all over to calm him down while Clarke helps him up and they start walking to the bed. 

“I’m just imitating mister I-already-hacked-my-lung-out.” he can’t help but laugh a little at that and of course it turns into a cough just as they settle down and Clarke pushes him and Gus against the pillows. The kid is wrapped up tightly in his dad’s arms, hands fisting his shirt and Bellamy is half sitting, half slumped on the pillows but she could see he too, was barely holding onto consciousness. 

While the night was awfully hard and horrible for Clarke, at least she and Gus got some rest, though the kid was exhausted now and nodded off on his dad’s chest, curled up in a baby-like position but she had actually no clue what happened to Bellamy, how he got hurt and the hell that he’s been this entire time.

She made a mental note to ask him all about it later. 

But for now she helped him lay down and covered him and Gus with their blankets.

“Clarke-” he reaches for her wrist and manages to clasp it in the last possible moment, pulling her back with sleepy tired eyes.

“What is it?”

“You should...you should...rest.” he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper, wind-like as he coughed a little but kept Gus tight in his embrace and adjusted the blankets on him.

Her heart warmed for him-despite it all he still put everyone else before him, even when he was barely awake, he wanted to make sure he’s fine.

“I’m good, I promise.”

“Clarke-”

“I’m fine, Bellamy. Nothing hurts and I’m actually warm enough now-I want to help your mom out. You have been working all night-just stay here with Gus and let us take care of you, okay?” he stares in her eyes for a long moment and then manages a small nod but not without adding.

“But after, you’re resting too, okay?” she smiles and reaches to cup his cheek, softly running her thumb under his tired eye. He leans into her touch like Gus leaned into him and it made her heart grow sizes. 

“When will you ever put yourself first, Bellamy Blake?” she whispers leaning closer and brushing her lips against his forehead. 

“Never.” he whispered back moving his hand up and wrapping them around her wrist again, mirroring her thumb movements on his own over her pulse before pulling it closer and giving her a small kiss there. “I’m not important.”

“You and I are going to fight about that when you’re better, okay?” he smirks.

“Can’t wait, princess.”she kisses his cheek before turning around only to find Aurora looking at them from her place near the stove as she stirred something in a pot.

Clarke immideately looked away blushing but she still commanded herself to be strong-they were after all, grown people, they couldn’t hide forever, so she willied herself to walk to Aurora and when she figured out the woman was warming up Gus some formula, she felt purpose-less and simply lingered there for a moment.

“I uh-” she began, feeling the sweat come down her back “Bellamy and I, we...”

“You’re together, I know.” when Clarke dared to take a look, she found Aurora smiling softly at her as she kept stirring the milk. She was surprised when she reached for a small jar full of a dark yellow-red substance and peppered Gus’ milk with it and she cocked her eyebrow at that. “Something to help his wounds heal faster and get him to sleep peacefully.” she explained and Clarke nodded, making a mental note to check on it later.

The Blakes and Factory overall had various little tricks when it came to healing their own wounds and she often wondered what some of the things in the tiny jars Aurora kept on the shelf above the sink were. One time she asked Bellamy and he simply said it’s spices but for healing or boosting the system yet he didn’t know the names of them, just what they do. When she asked them how they got them he shrugged and said-we pass them around. 

“Did he tell you?” Clarke asks in a whisper and Aurora nods.

“More like I am good at observing what’s happening around me, so I kind of guessed.”

“Aurora, I-” she reaches for her and squeezes her arm gently yet tight enough as she tried to prove her point.

“Don’t worry.” she looks into her eyes “I’m happy for him, for you.” Clarke relaxed under her warm smile “Couldn’t have asked for a better person to love my son.” Clarke blushed again but nodded solemnly, still somewhat shy.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me-love is hard.” Aurora counters as she takes the milk off the stove and starts filling Gus’ bottle with it, twisting off the end carefully but then jostling the concotion up and down in her hand before settling it down, making the milk appear more yellow-like rather than white now. 

“Help me with the bread and the tomatoes, you guys have to eat.” she nods at the big loaf that was right before Clarke and she carefully undoes the white and red plaid towel it was wrapped up with. “Thin slices, this has to last you a few days, okay?” she warns and Clarke nods-she was still new to everything here.

Her Alpha upbringing made all thoughts about saving absolutely non-existant. The other day when she was trying to help Bellamy set dinner, she poured herself and him so much of the bean can that Bellamy’s eyes widened and he shook his head, standing up softly and taking half of his back in the can for tomorrow. He wouldn’t touch hers though she wanted to do the same but he simply squeezed her arm and told her to eat-she was weaker, she’d need time to get used to this way of life. 

And god did she feel bad-she never used to worry about food before or how much she ate, in fact she often couldn’t finish her big dinners and would send everything back on a trey outside that the hallway maids collected in the morning and brought back to mess hall. Sometimes she’d even throw bread or cheese away, or half her meal simply because she didn’t feel like eating it. 

Here everything was saved for later, carefully wrapped in towels, pieces of cloths to preserve it. Bellamy didn’t need a fridge-every night the electricity stopped, so if he needed something to stay cold he’d simply shove it in one of the cabinets under the sink but they mostly had cans that couldn’t go bad. 

Things like tomatoes and what resembled butter that Aurora got from somewhere, were rarity and appreciated as special-day meals.

“Put them here to warm it up.” Auora gestured at the still hot plate where Clarke managed to put three of her slices and she quickly figured the woman wanted to make some sort of toast for the boys. “Are you sure you’re up for it?”

Clarke ponders on the words-she knows that answering just like that wouldn’t be an honest answer and that maybe, in a way, Aurora was testing her too, to see what she’d say and if she’d admit to being ready even when she probably wasn’t.

“I don’t think anyone ever is.” she finally says back keeping her voice strong as she turns on the slices slightly darker on one side now “As you said, love is hard, relationships are hard, God knows ours won’t be any easy because of the places we both come, because of the circumstances but-” she glances at Bellamy and Gus’ soft figures and smiles, her eyes beaming and that gives Aurora all the answers that she needs “For them...I am willing to try.”

“You love him?” Aurora prods gently, motherly in a way Clarke’s never felt before-not in any accusing, warning or worried way but with warmth and support.

Clarke blushes when she looks up at her and nods slowly, There’s a beat and then Aurora places her hand on her shoulder squeezing it tight.

“Good. As I already told him, I couldn’t wish for a better person to have in his or Gus’ life.” Clarke blushes even more at that “Well, we have to teach you how to go around here since you obviously can burn even a toast.” Clarke suddenly remembers the bread and realizes it’s smelling worse, the hot plate was obviously too warm after being on for a while and she jumps in her place, reaches for the bread but Aurora pulls it away swiftly with her defty hands and transfers them on a plate. 

“Sorry.” Aurora waves her hand in the air and picks up the butter, spreading it evenly on all three slices.

“Have you talked about how you’ll tell Gus?” Clarke shakes her head at that while picking the tomatoes and cutting them in small halves per Aurora’s instructions. 

“We wanted to wait a little, give ourselves some time.” Aurora hmms at that and takes the small bowl of tomatoes from her, putting the tomatoes on top and reaching for more of her precious herb jars above the sink, some of which were obviously spices as she spread some on them and then added some jerky. 

“I think he’ll be happy.”

“Yeah?”

“He told me so.” Clarke whips her head in Aurora’s direction making the woman smile even brighter. “The other day at the playground, he said that having you home was nice and he asked me if one day you’ll be his new mom.” Clarke’s eyes fill with tears at that “I told him I didn’t know yet but if you were, would that be okay for him and he said yes, that he loves you and you’re very warm and kind.” 

“He...he really said that?” Aurora nods as she rubs her arm softly.

“Kid loves you, Clarke. Bellamy’s an amazing dad and I try my best but he’s always missed a mom. I’m not saying that you have to be one, that you need to fill in those shoes especially if you and Bellamy aren’t ready for it but just you being around, your presence...that means a lot to him.” she feels herself blush again and Aurora nods to her to grab the plate as she takes Gus’ bottle and two cups of tea as well as the cough syrup and they go to the bed where Aurora pushes a chair and places all of the stuff down there, essentially using it as a small table. “Come on now, make them eat, I’ll start on the laundry. Kid needs boxers or he’ll be walking around the house in his bare butt.”

“I’ll help too.” Clarke says but Aurora shakes her head and mouths “Later.” which Clarke isn’t too happy about seeing as she was already spreading herself thin and wanting to help her and learn more about how to do things around here in a way that doesn’t completely show off her privillege but for now she focuses on Bellamy and Gus.

She reaches out for Bellamy’s wrist and squeezes it softly.

“Hey-” he opens his eyes right away and it takes him a second to realize what’s happening but when he does, he smiles back and looks at Gus who’s asleep in his arms, face still buried in his chest. “Time to eat.” she points at the trey and picks up Gus’ bottle which he insists he takes on himself and gently pushes in the kid’s already parted lips. He starts sucking on it immideately obviously hungry again and Bellamy smiles as he watches him.

She doesn’t waste any time though and picks up his toast bringing it to his lips.

“Come on, you too.”

“No, we can wait.”

“We’re not waiting, come on, eat, you don’t have any color to you.” she insists but he still doesn’t open up and instead gives her a stubborn look.

“So what?  You feed me while I feed Gus? Am I a baby too?”

“Absolutely.” she cuts off and he groans which she uses as an easy way to shove the bread in his mouth and he takes in a good bite from it, munching from it in his sleepy tired state. “Good?”

“Great.” he slumps lower on the pillows as he keeps sneaking glances at Gus who every once and then would jump a little in his embrace or kick his good leg out. “He’s...I think he hurts.”

“I know...but it will pass, the paste will soothe his leg.” she assures “Come on now, more.” she doesn’t stop until he finishes his toast and he eyes the rest in the plate.

“You too-” he insists.

“No, first you.”

“Clarke-”

“Bellamy!” she grunts back “Two for you and one for me, okay?”

“No way!” he argues moving up a little making Gus whine at the sudden change of positions forcing him to immideately lay back down and keep the now almost empty bottle steady. “You have to eat too.”

“She will, I’m bringing in soup as well!” Aurora chimes in from her place still near the stove and Bellamy looks back at her, trying to argue but she shoots him a look that suggests he won’t win this and Clarke envies that she can actually do this where she still failed. 

Clarke crosses her arms and picks up the other toast as she takes the bottle away from him and tries to hand it over to him but his hands that are still blistered and burnt but now without any bandages probably because they shed last night while he was working, can’t hold onto it and he almost embarrassingly drops it. She grips his hand and takes it from him, feeding him herself again and she can tell he feels bad about it because this time he doesn’t protest, he simply grows quieter and munches on the bread and tomatoes that he seems to absolutely love. 

He never stops coughing but some of the color returns to his cheeks when he finishes his toast but then glares at her until she picks her own and starts eating too, refusing to keep on until she got some as well which made her heart clench with love. 

“Here you go, some of my famous corn and carrot soup for you and Clarke.” Aurora brings in two steaming bowls and pulls up another chair by the bed and reaches for him, touching his forehead and cheeks.”You’re a little warm.”

“It’s okay.” he says and watches her pass Clarke the cough syrup bottle and a spoon “No, we should keep this for Gus and you Clarke.”

“You need it most now.” Aurora insists and he opens up his mouth to fight again “This isn’t going to be an argument, Bellamy.” he grumps but when Clarke brings in the spoon to his lips he takes the syrup and is surprised when she pours him another, tries to fight her on it and has to be glared down by his mother again before he takes it too, very unhappily. Clarke almost laughs-he’s adorable, just as grumpy as Gus was when he had to wake up for school in the morning and she can’t help but smile at him.

“Okay, I’ve made enough to last you till tomorrow. Please all three of you eat well, okay?” she instructs as she stands up and swipes her hand through Bellamy’s curls in her typical motherly fashion after which she leans down and places a kiss on Gus’ forehead too. 

“You’re going?” Bellamy asks a little surprised but Aurora just nods curtly.

“I have clothes to mend, dresses to make. I’ll come by tomorrow again to check on you guys, okay?” he nods but seems worried about her and the fact she’ll go back to working while he was slacking, lying in bed doing nothing. “Don’t let him leave this bed, okay?”

“Great...now you’re all ganging up on me.”

“Damn right we are.” Clarke huffs as she adjusts the blanket “If we don’t, you’d be back to work tomorrow even if your boss gave you days off.” Aurora nods in agreement and kneels closer by his side.

“Bellamy, if I find out you’ve been pushing yourself when you clearly need the rest, I’ll come here and tie you to the bed myself, I don’t care what I have to do, do you hear me?” Clarke herself almost shivers at Aurora’s stern voice but she is aware that with her threatening him like this and him knowing she’ll follow through, he won’t argue about it and that puts her at ease-arguing with him about his well-being could be exhausting sometimes. “If you have to get up, you’ll use the crutch and you won’t strain yourself, okay?”

“She has to rest too, she did spent the night out in the cold for the first time.” he argues throwing the ball in Clarke’s yard making her grumpy in turn. 

“I swear, there are three children in this room, not just one.” Aurora smiles a little as she too squeezes Clarke’s arm and gives her a motherly look.

“He’s right, though, you rest as well, okay? I’ll come tomorrow.” and then before Clarke knew what was happening, she leaned closer and kissed the top of her head as well.

She blushes but it doesn’t feel awkward, on the contrary, it’s nice and it spreads a warmth through her that she had only known when her father hugged or kissed her.

It made her miss him too. The one thing from Alpha she was desperate for, was her dad. After Jackson and everything that happened with him, she only ever wished to be able to run into his arms and be held by him.

But this...here with Bellamy, it was good too. It was more than good really-she watches Aurora leave and then turns to him finding him observing her carefully, like he could read her thoughts and what was going on in her head. He reaches over and takes her hand, squeezing it briefly. 

“You okay?” she nods and shakes her head of all thoughts about her dad, taking in the soup bowl and bringing in a spoon to his lips. He’s not happy about it but lets her feed him though once she’s done he stays awake until she finishes her ration too, though he’s barely there.

“Come on...come here, let’s sleep.” he pulls her down once she places her bowl away and she willingly complies-she hadn’t really done anything today but the cold from yesterday left her exhausted. As if she has spend hours in the operating room saving lives. 

He puts Gus in the middle and she carefully adjusts on the inner side watching as he tugged the blankets over them. She didn’t miss the way he winced with every movement or how he still coughed despite the syrup but even as he fought his need for sleep that was pushing down at him hard, he reached over, cupped her cheek and pulled her close, right over Gus who's curled up between them on his side. 

“You okay?” he asks and her heart bursts again with love for him.

She can’t help herself, she moves closer and kisses his lips softly-she needs to taste him to show him how much she loves him and his eyes, god his eyes they were so deep, so full of warmth and love despite the cold reality of their world.

“I’m good.” she whispers back and she means it-despite everything so far, this is the first time, she realizes that they all go to bed fed and warm enough and strangely, though this life is new to her, though she’s went to bed in Alpha happy, content, warm and fed many times, she finds herself happier now than ever before. 

Maybe it had something to do with the man who had wrapped his arm around her waist, pulled her closer and kissed her forehead or maybe it was because of the little boy curled up between them sleeping soundly, droolng on his dad’s arm that he used as a pillow or maybe it was because of herself and the choices she’s made who didn’t, even after last night, feel wrong.

[sukirichi]

Hello! Can you write one about Nanami where the reader is oblivious and they're really close to Gojo so he gets jealous often. Sometimes Gojo does things purposely to annoy him and one day he just lost his composure and accidentally admitted his feelings for you.

I hope u accept if you're not too busy. Thank you!!!

— a little push

— sometimes all nanami needs is a little push.

nanami kento x fem! reader

thank you for the request anon! i’m not sure if reader is oblivious enough but i hope you like it! there’s some thick pining here hur hur, i hope you like it! i never knew i needed an easily flustered and awkward nanami in my life also this is unedited as usual

check my bio for masterlist and my milestone event! (◕ᴗ◕✿)

“Do you mind?”

Nanami sighs, silently praying to the heavens you wouldn’t hear the way his heart is absolutely panicking and beating wildly right now. You’d randomly pushed him inside the teachers’ office the moment he got back to the institute at work, and now he’s doomed to hide his feelings while you look up at him with wide, innocent eyes, a shaky yet excited grin painted on your face.

“Sorry, sorry,” you wave your hands in front of you, although he can tell you’re not apologetic at all. Nanami clears his throat when you step backwards to give him space, unsure if he’s happy or sad about the distance. “I was just really excited to see you back.”

Your carefree, lighthearted voice, along with that little jump in your toes combined with your statement – you’re basically asking Nanami to shrivel up already.

The stoic man remains composed, though, only shifting to adjust his tie while he stares down at you. You’re still somewhat bouncing on your feet, teeth biting your lip – a habit you had when you want to say something but contemplating whether you should. Tilting away to hide the slight flush in his cheeks, Nanami sighs again, pretending to be tired.

The last thing he wants to admit that even though he is exhausted from work, is that you’d never bother him. In fact, having you bombard him like this makes him feel like he didn’t deal with special grade curse by himself all alone just an hour ago.

“If there’s something you want to say, I suggest you get it over with. I don’t want to stay overtime and wait until the blindfolded creep comes around.”

You giggle at his insult, hiding behind your cupped palms. Crap, Nanami looks away and focuses on the birds outside instead, suddenly finding them so interesting despite never paying attention to them before. Maybe that was the curse of crushes – it had people acting differently and in complete contrast with their behavior.

“About that,” you begin almost shyly now, and Nanami practically bursts when he sees you tapping both of your pointer fingers together, gaze tilted away from him.

It makes him wonder you’re nearly on the same skill to Gojo, yet still somehow look like a small, innocent being that makes him want to protect you from everything – even if you were more than capable of handling things yourself. Well, Nanami concludes to himself, maybe you’re really just that paradoxical that it makes sense why he can never think straight around you. Maybe he’s really not supposed to understand the complexity of his feelings when you were a phenomena to begin with already.

“You see…Satoru asked me out.”

Nanami stiffens at your statement for a split second before his head whips to you so fast. You’re observant – of course you are, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer – and you easily pick up in his sudden change of demeanor. Your brow raises at his abrupt reaction, to which Nanami conceals by flexing his neck and rolling his shoulders back.

“I am simply tired from work,” he haf-lies, “So, Satoru asked you out? Will you say yes?”

His words and tone are monotonous, almost bored even, but deep inside he’s so close to beating the crap out of his co-worker. Well, not really, Nanami isn’t a man of violence, but he’s jealous. Of course he is – he’s liked you ever since Principal Yaga hired you.

He’s never told Satoru about his little crush on you. He would be stupid to do such; Satoru would tease him to no end and maybe even be as childish to go as far as pushing him to you. Typical elementary shit, Nanami cringes to himself, watching as you look down at your feet with a pout. Now that confused him. He isn’t sure what your body language means at all, but patient as ever, Nanami only waits.

“Well,” you scratch your forehead, “I’m really flattered. I want to say yes because Satoru is a nice guy—”

“He is not. I do not respect him.”

You roll your eyes at the way his eyes darkens, “—but also I’m not sure if I should. I mean, Satoru doesn’t really date, you know? He’ll be with like one girl and be with another the next week. I just don’t want to…like, fall for that, I guess. Not that I won’t, because he’s totally not my type—”

“It’s just a yes or no,” Nanami cuts you off, his words coming out a lot harsher than he intends it to be. It’s not that he’s annoyed at your rambling, he actually finds it so adorable when you get so lost in your train of thoughts that your mind just travels from one place to another, and seeing how your eyes just leave farther from reality is something he’s always find such an attractive quirk, but not now – not when his infuriating co-worker is intending to mess with your feelings. “Do you want to go or not? Yes or no? It’s as simple as that.”

You blink back at him in surprise, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that Nanami was a no-bullshit man who hit things right on the head, a huge contrast to your happy-go-lucky self, but he’s right.

It is that simple – and you’re complicating things all over again.

When you give him an answer, Nanami has to muster all his energy to not deflate. He’s tired – but now his exhaustion and even the heartbreak comes crashing down all over him that he’s immediately weighed down and overwhelmed – so much so that all he wants is to go home.

“Yes, I want to go.”

It’s his day off.

Like everything else in his life, Nanami plans everything down to the last minute of his day. His day off consisted of him having the privilege to sleep in until 8am, then breakfast with coffee from that great café a five minute walk away from his apartment, then he’ll be reading books in his study for two hours. Comes after that is lunch, and he’ll brows through some TV shows, pick up his clothes from the dry cleaning, get that special limited edition dinner of his favorite sushi, read books again and call it a day.

Simple, peaceful, no hassle – it’s the perfect day to relax.

Except it isn’t.

Because it’s your day off too, and you’re out on a date with Satoru. He still remembers how happy you looked then upon accepting the white haired man’s invitation, your nimble fingers wrapped around his sleeve as you shyly asked him to come with you.

He doesn’t know why you had to bring him, but he doesn’t question it, nonetheless. Nanami wants to see how Satoru would react, if there could be any indication from the man behind his blindfold that he had ill intentions. Oddly enough, there didn’t seem to be any. Satoru only beamed and deflated into a chibi, enthusiastically nodding along with you while you planned your date together.

Nanami took it upon himself to leave.

With a silent scoff, Nanami placed his dinner down on the counter. Because it’s his day off – and mostly because he doesn’t feel like himself – Nanami went out to buy the limited edition sushi wearing a white shirt and some gray sweatpants, too forlorn and a little jealous to even bother dressing up.

It’s stupid, really. He’s been looking forward for this sushi for a long, long time, but now that he’s had it, he can’t even enjoy the taste. His mind keeps going back to you.

Were you having fun with Satoru? Were you enjoying your time? Was Satoru treating you well? What was Satoru’s intentions when it came with you? The last time Nanami checked, you and him got along really well and you’re mostly the one who whacks the taller man in the head upside down when he’s being stupid, almost like two peas in a pod, except you were the smarter one. He’d been so sure you’re nothing but friends and yet…it all lead to this.

Nanami pushes his sushi away. They no longer taste like anything, the texture like dried paper on his mouth. He wipes his lips with a napkin, staring longingly at well…nothing. His walls were plain and empty, and suddenly, Nanami can’t help but compare himself to Gojo.

You both planned to go to the local carnival. There’d be lots of foods and even parlor shops, ferris wheel rides and photo booths to create memories. Of course you and Satoru would go there; both of you enjoyed loud, bustling crowds, claiming there was something amazing about basking in the “lives of humans when ignorant of curses” while Nanami prefers his peace and silence.

Had you gone out on a date with him instead, Nanami can’t guarantee he’ll be any fun. He most definitely wouldn’t ask you to go to a carnival with him either. It was loud, cramped, crowded, and it’s too chaotic for him to ever enjoy your presence and enjoy it alone.

Nanami closes the sushi box, turns on the TV and lets is play on the background, a wet towel above his eyes to relax his tired eyes.

He hopes you’re having fun. He hopes Satoru is treating you well. Nanami just ignores the slight pain in his chest when he thinks of you, laughing and touching anyone but him, and he could picture it already. You’ve always been so open and welcoming to everyone, he knows you’ll have fun today, too.

That’s one of the things he finds most endearing about you – that your smile never fades and you never forget about the simple, little things in life to focus on to keep your sanity after facing curse after curse.

He’s fine, he tells himself. Satoru may be annoying, but he knows you could have fun with him, and you deserved to be happy more than anyone else.

Nanami is about to fall asleep on his couch when his phone vibrates on the coffee tables. Groaning, he flicks off the towel to his shoulders, grumbling about how Principal Yaga better be respecting his day off, but the last thing he expects to see is your contact name flashing on the screen. In the contact photo, you’re winking with a peace sign held above your head.

You look so utterly adorable Nanami just wants to kiss you. He remembers this photo was taken when Yuuji got bored and asked to play games on his phone. Upon finding that there was none – of course there was none – the strawberry-haired student opted for taking pictures of everyone instead. There’s one with Nobara growling, Megumi sipping his boba-tea with dead eyes as if he’s so done with the world, more than twenty pictures of Satoru flexing his muscles and posing like an idiot, and then there’s yours.

Nanami remembers staring at his phone for a solid minute, his gallery actually blessed with your face in it. The sun shines behind you on that photo and you’re absolutely shining. He thinks that’s when he truly fell in love.

And it just so happened the love of his life is calling, making his heart skip a beat because shouldn’t you be with Gojo? Why were you calling him? Did something wrong happen?

Nanami doesn’t waste another second before swiping the green icon, already standing up from the couch as he grabs his jacket. He had this weird inkling something is wrong, why else would you call him?

His theories are proven true when your voice comes out shaky. “H-hello?”

“Good evening,” he greets stiffly, brows furrowed as he listens in on the way you seem to be shuffling around. “Is there something wrong?”

“I, uhm,” he hears you sniffle through the other line, “Yeah, I guess there is…Satoru just texted he can’t come because Principal Yaga suddenly sent him to a mission overseas…and then I just realized that Satoru’s been summoned by the elders and he’s just refusing to show up, so now they cornered him, I guess… anyways, I’m talking too much and I don’t want to be a bother, but would you maybe…like to hang out with me?”

Nanami’s hand freezes on the doorknob. “Hang out…professionally?”

He immediately wants to smack himself in the forehead for that. Out of all things he could’ve said, he just had to utter something unintelligent. He hears you snicker in the background and Nanami’s ears redden. 

He quickly regains his composure with a clear of his throat, suddenly remembering that Satoru’s ditched you, so now you’re asking him instead. It kind of feels like he’s just a replacement, but Nanami buries this feeling down before it consumes him, wondering if he’s already regretting changing into better clothes because he actually agreed to go to a carnival with you.

Upon hearing your happy, “Okay! I’ll wait for you then!”, Nanami realizes that he doesn’t actually mind. Especially not with you.

The carnival is loud.

Nanami dreads the moment he steps out of his car, his body swallowed by the bustling crowd and defeaning music of banging drums and clashing instruments. There’s a hundred scents everywhere – smoke, fish, glazed apples – he doesn’t know where to begin or how to focus.

He nearly turns back to his hair, about to shoot you a text that maybe this is beyond him after all. His head begins to spin when he’s only pushed deeper into the crowd, people bumping into him with every single second and it’s so suffocating. It doesn’t make sense to him how anyone could possibly go on a date like this and enjoy it. He knows for sure this chaos won’t let him enjoy his date’s presence because he’s too busy trying to get away from it all.

Nanami staggers for a bit when a strong hand tugs him to the side. Soon, he finds himself pressed flush against you in a tight corner, your hips warm on his. “Hi,” you breathe out airily, lashes fanning and fluttering in that same manner that always made his heart do complete flips.

“Hello,” he greets back with a small bow out of faux respect, but really, he’s just keeping his head down because you look so beautiful in that moment he doesn’t even know where to look. You’re warm and soft next to his hard and stiff muscles, the scent of roses and vanilla mixing in with the street smoke and Nanami’s head grows dizzy, his hand around yours tightening for comfort. “Y/N…I do not prefer this crowd. Can I take you back home instead? You must be tired – I’ll prepare dinner for you.”

Nanami blinks back in surprise when he sees you nod, a slight grimace on your face, and you practically bury your face in his bicep as you groan, “It’s too noisy for me too. Let’s just hang out at your place.”

So you end up in his immaculately clean apartment, admiring and staring at the boring furniture. Nanami changes into more comfortable clothes and whips out something to cook, not wanting to feed you measly take out when you’re probably famished. He watches with side glances as you pick up a photo of him with his parents when he was younger, cooing and giggling at the baby version of him.

“Nanamin, you’re so cute!”

Nanami scoffs and turns back to the heated water in the bowl, arms hard as they cross against his chest covered with an apron. “Please do not call me cute. I am anything but.”

“No, you’re really cute,” you insist, but after seeing Nanami’s flustered frown, you eventually give up and give the poor man a break. Later, you wobble next to him, watching with curious eyes and a small smile as he adds the vegetables into the soup, moving expertly as he diced up the onions to the side. The sheer focus and attention on his daily tasks makes him falter, and he suddenly finds it so hard to function now.

“Why are you staring at me? Is there something so interesting about slicing up onions?”

“No, not really,” you say absentmindedly, the slight plop of the ingredients echoing. “It’s just – I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this way. Domestic, I mean, but it looks good on you,” you nod to yourself, and Nanami finds himself struggling to act as if your presence wasn’t making him go crazy while he proceeds to cook. “In fact, everything looks good on you, and I find you really interesting!”

“Y-you do?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, assisting him silently with mixing the bowl even when he didn’t ask you to. Unaware that he’s now focused on you, watching you cook with him with you pressed up against his side, almost as if it’s right where you belong, Nanami feels the same with you. You also look good being this domestic with him, and he suddenly blurts out, “Would you like to stay with me? Like this?”

Your eyes slide over his in a slow fashion, slow enough that his brain hotwires at the fear maybe he’s said something wrong. But Nanami immediately swallows it down, huffing and turning away from you with that stoic expression again. “Forgive me. That was weird—”

“Why would it be weird?” you laughed to yourself before bumping your hips with his, “You’re the one who invited me here. Of course I want to stay.”

That’s…that’s not what he means.

Nanami is left staring openly at you while you help him set the table and you proceed to talk about how you didn’t really want to go to the carnival but Satoru insisted you’d have fun, so you went anyway even if you’d much prefer to be somewhere else. He’s barely listening, too distracted by the way your lips move and how you swing the house slippers on your big toe, your legs crossed on top of another and your figure slightly hunched across from him.

You look so comfortable and welcomed in his home that it puts him at ease too, not worried that he has to impress you anything because it’s you, and Nanami could actually be vulnerable enough to laugh with you over a bowl of vegetable soup.

It’s fine, he lies to himself again, it’s fine that you don’t know he likes you even if he tends to slip and be obvious sometimes. Because at least you’re with him in that moment, and he lies to himself again that it’s fine, that maybe next time he’ll tell you, but he doesn’t worry about. How could he worry about it when you’re snorting so loud over a lame joke he said that rice nearly came out your nose, and he’s so drunk over the sound of your bubbly laughter that something flutters deep within his belly?

When you help him wash the dishes and bask in the silence instead, comfortable over the lack of words and nothing but the sound of his faucet running and the slight rubbing of towels against dishes heard in the background, Nanami is unsure whether he’s glad that Satoru ditched you on your first date.

It doesn’t stop there.

Nanami only keeps falling in love with you more. He’s been doing a good job of keeping his feelings to himself because the last thing he wants is to have you stay away from him, but Satoru was really getting on his nerves.

He’s just come back from exorcising a curse when he sees you and Satoru play-wrestling in the field with the other students. Megumi is grumbling to himself in the corner, Yuuji is laughing and cheering on you to tackle down his sensei who’s currently going down in high-pitched laughter, Toge pumping his fists and screaming, “Salmon, salmon!”

It’s a chaotic sight – one that he usually doesn’t mind – until you finally pin Satoru down on the ground, your ass above his crotch. Satoru’s hands then come up to squeeze your ass and hips under the false pretense he’s struggling to push you off him, but Nanami knows better.

“Give up already!” you tease the other sorcerer who’s still wriggling underneath you, and Nanami sees it before it happens.

Satoru’s legs bend beneath you and he tries to pin you under him in quick movements, but Nanami is faster, his reflexes taking over. Before he realizes what he’s doing, Nanami tugs you and pulls you forward until you collide on his chest. He’s breathing hard, eyes narrowed at the arrogant smirk painted on Satoru’s features. Meanwhile, you’ve softened in Nanami’s grip, hands fisting his shirt that has him hardening up out of sheer protectiveness.

“Oh, Nanamin!” Satoru beams while wiping the dirt on his hands across his uniform, “Glad to see you here. You wanna join training too?”

“This is hardly training,” he retorts with a clenched jaw, “You’re harassing and disrespecting your fellow sorcerer because you can never keep your dirty hands to yourself,” before Satoru could defend himself, he’s already all over you, his hand tilting your chin side to side to check for any injuries. “Are you hurt anywhere? Did this bastard do anything else?”

“No, not really—”

“Why do you care so much, Nanamin?” Satoru teases, and the students all huddle to watch the commotion. Everyone can feel the tension rising, and Nanami only stiffens up further when he feels you lean closer to his warmth almost absentmindedly. “She and I were just playing around, no hard feelings, no foul play. We’re just having fun, right, Y/N?”

“She is not someone you can just have fun with, Satoru. You’ve already crossed the line when you ditched her on your first date, and you didn’t even bother texting or calling back when I drove her home. It’s disrespectful, and she deserves better than that.”

“Nanami—”

“I was busy,” Satoru sighs dramatically, “And if she deserves better than me, then who would it be? I can take care her of her, you know, she and I have been besties for like what, a year now? I’ll be good to her,” he smirks, and Nanami wants nothing more than to punch him square in the jaw. “Besides, it’s not like she’s dating anyone else. She’s single and ready to mingle—”

“Maybe she is, but I’m not,” Nanami deadpans, his harsh tone shocking everyone.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you squeak under him, and Nanami falls silent. He’s never thought of confessing to you, especially not this way, and Nobara is biting Yuuji’s jacket behind them to muffle her squeals. Panda is clapping his hands and whispers oh, here we go, followed by Toge’s salmon salmon.

It dawns on him now that everyone knows he likes you after all, and now that he’s confronted with the situation, he can’t run away from it. Not that Nanami plans on running away, for he is a man and his pride doesn’t allow him to evade situations like this.

He just wishes it could’ve gone out better.

“Forgive me if this makes you uncomfortable,” Nanami releases his grip on you, loosening his tie that makes him feel like he’s choking both on air and his words. Through his cool stature, he’s actually sweating inside his clothes, and it doesn’t help you’re patient with him too, head tilted to the side curiously and so horribly cutely he might combust. “But I have always been, and I still am, utterly in love with you.”

Nobara and Yuuji no longer hold back as they scream to themselves, the former slapping the latter in his back while Megumi only shakes his head, muttering “about time,” under his breath. Maki snickers to herself and Satoru is stunned, but it’s nothing compared to the way you shrink under his gaze for a moment.

He believes you’re going to run away from him because of his blatant confession; it wasn’t romantic at all, and the kids are still screaming too loudly for him to form coherent thoughts.

Nanami begins to form a deep bow, ready to apologize wholeheartedly and to politely ask you to forget this if you wish – he would respect your decision. But just as his gaze met the ground, he’s thrown off balance as you jump on him, soft glossy lips crashing into his.

The screams and cheers of everyone are suddenly drowned out when he feels your lips molding onto his, and he can feel you smiling happily, giggling while his hands tentatively run down your hips to hold you close. It’s unprofessional, displeasing, and downright horrendous to be kissing someone during work hours while the students are watching, especially because his clothes are crumpled from your eager touch and you’re on top of his chest, but Nanami absolutely doesn’t give a single fuck because he’s kissing you back fervently.

It’s what he’s always wanted – you’re the one he’s always wanted, and now that he has you in his hold, he’s not easily letting you go.

“See? I told you guys,” Satoru proudly puffs his chest up in the background, “All Nanamin needs is a little push.”

[marvelouspeterparker]

just can’t get enough

pairing: fwb!tom holland x reader

summary: you and tom have been doing this friends with benefits thing for a while now, repressing your feelings, playing this twisted, toxic, jealousy fueled game. but when will you both just accept the truth and be honest with each other?

request: tom tying you up and edging you because you were flirting with other guys and then after he make you come until you can't take it anymore–– by anonymous

word count: 10.3k

warnings: smut, spanking, overstimulation

notes: i got the idea to make this a friends with benefits story then i started writing this and two sentences in, i knew i wanted to make it a full fic dfhskjh + so there’s more than just smut in this + the title is inspired by the song by the black eyes peas 

You and Tom weren’t exclusive, you weren’t even really together. But that doesn’t mean you guys didn’t get jealous. The both of you got really jealous. You liked bringing it out of each other––it was the only emotion you weren’t afraid to show to each other. 

Your relationship, or lack thereof, was complicated and most likely the textbook definition of toxic and immature. You and Tom were definitely into each other, in a loving type way, you just didn’t know the other felt the same. Typical. Even though you would ask each other to stay over after hooking up. Even though you would hold each other after every night you spent together. Even though you looked at each other as if you were the other’s world. You had no idea. 

Part of you wanted to deny your feelings. This was Tom. He could have anyone he wanted, it wasn’t safe to get attached.  Your feelings for him were borderline scary because of how strong they were––and you weren’t even sure he felt the same way about you which only added more issues into the mix. He thought the same things about you, but you of course, didn’t know that. 

So your go-to response to each other was to deny, deny, deny. Even though it hurt you. It was safer.

Although you didn’t show each other your true feelings, you liked to get a rise out of each other. And you’d like to say it’s because of the sex it leads to––but deep down, you know that’s not true. You like to feel wanted the way that you want him. You like to see him angry on your behalf, to see him upset because of the way some other guy is looking at you, kissing you, holding you. Just like he loves to see you annoyed every time he has a girl attached to his hip at a party, her teeth leaving marks on his neck the way you like to, the way only you should be able to. 

––❊––

The music was blaring through the speakers when you walked in with your friend Mia, the both of you were ready to get fucked up and have fun. You quickly made your way to the kitchen to get some drinks, eagerly sipping from your red solo cups as you started to sway lightly to the music. The house was packed, sweaty, drunk bodies everywhere, shouting and dancing on each other. The couches were filled with people, passed out and making out, either or. 

Just as you finished your cup, you felt a pair of eyes practically burning through your body. You turned and immediately caught his eyes, looking you up and down with a smirk on his face as he barely listened to Harrison and Harry having what seemed to be an intense conversation––but knowing them it was probably just banter. 

You and Tom were friends, since it is in the title of what you guys supposedly are––friends with benefits. But were the benefits supposed to come with mixed feelings and overwhelming amounts of repressed emotions?––So far, that’s unclear. But you and Tom and Harrison and the whole bunch were all friends. You and Tom were always a little bit closer than you were with the others, but not by an obscene amount. This whole arrangement between the two of you had started by accident, basically. You slept together one night after a party, you were both only a little tipsy so it wasn’t a mistake––and then again after he spent the night at your place for one of your usual sleepovers, and then it just kept happening. 

But along with this intimate cycle came this push and pull you and Tom would do with each other. It seemed that every time you got closer, you would end up taking a thousand steps back away from each other afterwards. It was tiring, but you never let it show. 

You saw Tom walking towards you, a glint in his eyes. But right when he was about ten feet away from you and you could feel your heart pounding out of your chest, he swerved to the side, his eyes lingering on you while he talked to some other girl. You felt your heart drop to your stomach but you swallowed and picked it right back up, not letting his antics get to you. This was what happened every time. It was a game. But neither of you seemed to ever win. 

You filled your cup again with something a little stronger and gulped it down, wincing as it burned it’s way down your throat. 

“You okay?” Mia asked, looking at you slightly concerned. “That was a pretty aggressive swallow.” She joked.

You shook your head, “I’m fine.” You turned to her and plastered a smile on your face, ignoring the stares of the brunet who was only a few feet away from you, a blonde girl’s hand on his shoulder, sliding it’s way up to his neck. “Let’s dance.” 

You marched your way into the scattered group of people in the living room, finding a nice spot for you and your friend. You easily got comfortable, having danced with Mia many times before. She stepped behind you, swaying as you grinded on her, losing yourself in the music. Soon you were sweaty just like the rest of the people in this party and you could feel Tom sending glances your way every now and then, despite the girl trying to climb him. You were dancing seductively but freely, only barely paying attention to the other people in the room. Sure, you were hoping that Tom was watching, but you were also dancing for yourself. You just wanted to have fun.

You managed to dance for about two songs until someone came up to you. He was attractive, a little taller than Tom, dark brown hair, and what seemed to be hazel eyes in the dark lighting of the room. He seemed nice enough. He approached you with a sincere smile on his face. “I don’t mean to bother you. I just couldn’t help but notice you and I’ve been watching you for a bit––in a totally non-creepy way.” He prefaced, making you laugh. He was cute. “Do you wanna dance, maybe?” He held his hand out. “If not, I totally understand.”

You paused for a moment, looking at him. You weren’t going to mess around with someone if they seemed like a total dick––but he seemed genuine. You turned your head to check with Mia to find that she was already walking off with some girl. She gave you a thumbs up and a wink and you laughed, looking back at the boy. 

“Okay,” you smiled. “Let’s dance.” 

He smiled and you took his hand and pulled him behind you, continuing the dance you were doing before with Mia, grinding on him lightly. He placed his hands on your waist, his fingertips digging into you softly. This next song was more sensual and you couldn’t help but feel yourself a little bit. You knew you looked good. You turned your head over your shoulder to get the boy’s attention. “I should probably know your name since we skipped the formalities and went straight to third base.” 

He laughed, his hands still on your waist. “Liam. And you?”

“Y/N.” You lifted one of his hands and shook it, making him chuckle and step closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“You’re cute.” 

You smiled, “I know. So are you.” You took his hands and brought them up to your breasts, making him squeeze them just as you looked straight ahead and made eye contact with Tom. His jaw was clenched as he squeezed the girl’s ass, her lips marking him up. You smirked and tipped your head back, biting your lip. You could feel yourself getting turned on, from the dancing, from Liam, from Tom.

He looked mad and it was only spurring you on even more. He practically snarled before grabbing the girl’s hair and pulling her head back. You could see her moan even from several feet away. He looked at you as he licked along her bare neck, his eyes teasing and taunting you. He knew you would rather it was him standing behind you, holding you, feeling you-–just like you knew he would rather you be the one moaning in his ear. He bit the blonde’s neck and grabbed her ass roughly, pulling her into him as he marked her up. 

You were in a room full of people, but when you looked at each other, it felt as though the whole room went dark, a spotlight on the two of you, your shadows behind you hiding all your hidden truths about how you felt for one another. The both of you were just waiting to see who would snap first. Last time it was you, and the time before that it was him. You were determined for it not to be you this time. 

You brought a hand up and slid it along Liam’s neck, making your way to his hair before tugging it softly and bringing him down to kiss your neck. You tilted your head and he eagerly took the hint, kissing and sucking softly. His touch was more gentle and more hesitant than Tom’s, you couldn’t help but compare the two––not when Tom was staring you down. 

You turned your head and pulled Liam up, looking at his lips then back up to his eyes, grinning when you saw his gaze was focused on your mouth. You pulled him close and crashed your lips together, leading the kiss. It was bold for a first kiss, and you hoped he didn’t mind, but by the way he was grabbing you and pressing into you, you figured he was fine with it.

By the time the song was over, your mind was far from Tom. You were facing Liam, your hands around his neck as he grabbed your thigh, pressing himself into you as you made out. When he pulled away from you, you looked up, confused as to why he stopped. You saw another boy talking to him. He let your leg down gently and you let your hands slip down to his chest.  

“We gotta go man, the uber’s here. We said we’d be back by…” he checked his phone. “Two hours ago.” 

“Shit, alright.” Liam looked at you then back to his friend, “I’ll meet you outside.” He turned to you, apologetic. “Looks like our time is up.” 

You smiled a little sadly and let your hands fall to your sides. Sure, he wasn’t Tom. But he was alright, you liked him as a person. “Seems like it.” 

He sighed, seemingly thinking about something. After a moment he spoke up. “Can I get your number?” 

You looked up at him. “You know what? Sure.” He smiled and handed you his phone. After putting your information in, you handed him back his phone.

He held it up. “I will be sure to use this.” You smiled and he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek before leaning to whisper in your ear. “See you soon hopefully, Y/N.” 

He walked away, still facing you and you laughed when he bumped into someone, almost falling and looking back at you, embarrassed. He waved and was soon on his way. You found yourself smiling absentmindedly at the door he’d just exited and were soon snapped out of your daze when you heard a familiar voice behind you. 

“Your date ditch you?”

You turned to face him but your smile soon dropped when you noticed he wasn’t alone. The girl was still on his arm, smiling up at him, clearly wanting all of his attention. 

“No.” You said as a matter of factly. “I actually got his number.” You couldn’t help but smile when you noticed his eye twitch. “He just had to go home or something.” 

“Hmm that’s a shame.” He licked his lips, shamelessly checking you out. 

You easily forgot where you were with the way he was looking at you until a voice pierced through your bubble. 

“Can we go find a room? Please Tommy?”

You noticed Tom wince and look over at you when he heard the nickname and you couldn’t help but grimace. That was your name for him. You were the only one who called him that. 

He swallowed awkwardly and turned to her. “Babe.” He lowered his head to look at her, talking to her like a child and you scoffed. “You’re this close to being plastered. You need to find your friends and go home.” 

She pouted like a child throwing a tantrum. “But you said you––were gonna fuck me.” 

Your brows raised and he looked at her, confused. “What? No I didn’t––”

She nodded her head, “Uh huh, you said–––” She mimicked a posh british accent. “M’gonna fuck you so hard, love.”

He cursed silently when he realized he’d said that out loud when he was watching you grind on that boy. “That––That wasn’t,” he looked over at you and you smirked, crossing your arms. “You were just hearing things.” He spotted one of the girls she came with and pushed her towards her. “There you go, run off now.” 

You laughed but it quickly died off when he turned back to you, his eyes dark. You bit your lip and his hand came up to hold your jaw, his thumb running over your lips. You parted your lips and took his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him as you would his cock and he groaned, “Fuck, love.” You bobbed your head and popped off of him, biting the tip of his finger gently and winking at him. 

He slid his hand down to grasp your neck and tilted your head up, leaning in closer to you, his lips barely grazing yours. “My place or yours?” 

You had a feeling Mia would be coming home tonight with that girl. And the girls she brought home were never quiet, not with her. “Yours.” 

He nodded and took your hand in his, pulling out his phone as you both walked out of the house. “Uber should be here in two minutes.” 

You raised a brow and he could practically hear you watching him quizzically. He looked up at you and you asked, “Was that uber for the blonde?”

He rolled his eyes. “Called it as soon as I saw that bloke leave.” 

You smirked. “How ambitious of you.”

He stepped closer to you, “Love don’t act like you don’t say yes to me every time. I always have you begging for my cock and we both know it.”

Your jaw dropped but before you could even think of a response, he walked forward, pulling you along. “Let’s go.” 

When you both got settled in the car, you greeted the driver and Tom subtly pulled you closer to him. He placed one of your legs over his, his hand rubbing along the inside of it teasingly soft as he made small talk with the driver, because, ever the charmer, he had to talk to everyone. 

You looked out the window, tuning out their conversation as you focused on the lights outside as the car drove by. You were honestly so out of it, you almost jolted when you felt Tom’s hand slide under your skirt to graze your panties. 

You turned to him in shock, and he simply smiled, still talking to the driver. Were they talking about golf? You grabbed his hand and he turned his head, looking at you with a look that said don’t test me. You let him go and he rubbed you through the fabric, pleased to see how wet you were. But when he remembered what you’d been doing all night, his face quickly formed a grimace. 

“Who’s this for, baby?” he licked his lips, whispering to you as the driver went on. “Me? Or that div you were grinding on for show? Hm?”

He was jealous. Good. 

You shrugged, enjoying the dark look that overtook his features. “What if I said both?” 

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, his lips grazing your skin. “Then I’d say that’s the wrong fucking answer, love.” 

You shivered from the tone of his voice and when he pulled away, the smirk on his face was anything but sweet. He slipped his hands into your panties, audibly gasping to himself when he felt how wet you really were. He wasted no time, rubbing your wetness over your clit and you gasped, letting out a whine louder than you would have hoped to. Luckily he spoke over you, but he pinched the bundle of nerves, silently scolding you and you whimpered quietly, leaning into his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around you and pressed his cheek to your forehead, making it seem as though you were simply cuddling in the backseat. If you weren’t distracted, you would have thought about how nice it felt to be in his arms like this, but then again, you had other things on your mind.

He rolled his fingers over your clit, kissing your forehead when you let out a shaky breath. He slipped his fingers inside of you and you arched into his touch, rolling your hips to fuck his hand. “Such a needy little slut.” He whispered to you, only making you roll your hips harder. He let out a small fuck and tried his best to focus on his conversation with the lovely man who was driving you both home, but the way you were breathing heavily into his neck as you grinded onto his fingers was making it hard for him to even breathe properly. 

He sped his hands up as best he could in this awkward and compromising position, pressing his thumb down to your clit, making you sigh as you bit into his neck, quickly approaching your high. 

“You gonna cum all over my hand, baby?” He whispered into your hair. You nodded desperately, but your heart dropped when he chuckled. “Funny how I didn’t give you permission to.” You lifted your head and looked up at him, begging him not stop to but he simply stared you down and pulled his hand away from you and out of your panties, making you almost buck forward from the loss of stimulation. 

Your eyes were wide and hopeful and he simply kissed your cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth to suck on his fingers. Luckily for him, his conversation with the driver had died off gradually, so he was free to tease you as much as he wanted. “Fucking delicious.” He licked his lips, “You want a taste?” You nodded, already leaning into him, but he brought a hand up to your hair and tugged your head backwards, exposing your neck. “That’s too fucking bad. You don’t deserve to taste my pussy yet.” He leaned forward and kissed your neck possessively, somehow picking the spots that were already sensitive. You soon realized he was covering the marks that Liam had made and making them his own. 

He spent a good while marking you up, only pulling away when the car came to a stop. Realizing you’d made it to his place, you both thanked the driver and got out, quickly making your way into the flat. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you were stripped naked, Tom on top of you as he kissed you possessively as if someone were watching. His tongue was tasting yours, sucking and licking it’s way into your mouth, making you lose your breath. He pulled away and grinned when you whined, helplessly trying to pull him back, biting your lip sensually. 

He got off of the bed and pulled out the box from underneath and your breath hitched, knowing exactly what was in there from all the times you’d spent over at his place. He pulled out the padded handcuffs and the trusty vibrator he’d used on you and watched you use many times, setting them on the bed as he closed the box and shoved it back to it’s spot. 

He looked at you steadily, “You up for this?” When you nodded he smiled. “That’s my girl.” Though you knew he most likely meant it sexually, you couldn’t help how flustered it made you feel. And was it just your mind playing tricks on you or did it seem more sincere when he said it this time?

You put your hands in front of you and he put on the restraints, raising your hands above your head, attaching the cuffs to the bedframe and settling down between your thighs. He ran his hands up and down your torso, his fingers lightly grazing your nipples and your breasts, down your stomach and then back up again, making you squirm in anticipation. 

He pressed a lasting wet kiss to your lips and trailed his lips down, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth as his fingers tugged and teased the other. Your back arched under his touch but he was quick to pin you back down, smiling as he continued to tease you. 

He slid further down the bed, grabbing your breasts then spreading your thighs wider as he settled between them, finally seeing the mess he’d helped make. Without saying a word, he watched the way your walls clenched around nothing, clearly aching to be filled. He spread you open and buried himself in you, your moans and gasps only spurring him on even more. He could tell you were still sensitive from earlier, your pussy practically pulsing under his tongue. 

He licked through your folds, sliding his tongue in and out of you teasingly as he properly made out with your pussy, moaning and groaning into you, enjoying himself in the pleasure he was giving you, as he thrusted his hips into the bed absentmindedly. It wasn’t long before your hips started bucking into his face and he had to press them down with his hands.

Your wrists strained against the restraints as you buried your face into your arm, your brows furrowed, your lip caught between your teeth.

“So close, Tom.”

He hummed and sucked your clit harshly, waiting until whines started spilling from your lips, your tell that you were about to tip over the edge, to pull away completely.

You let out a broken no and looked down at him, a pout on your face. 

“That’s what you get for teasing me all night.” Yeah, he was being hypocritical, but as we established before––toxic. “Grinding up on that idiot right in front of me.” 

You lifted your head to try and look at him properly. “His name is Liam.” 

Based on the look on his face from your response you could tell––that was the wrong answer. 

“You see darling,” He thrusted his fingers into you abruptly, making you drop your head back and moan loudly in surprise. “Look at me.” His voice was sharp and you lifted your head immediately, your walls clenching around him from the tone of his voice. “I don’t give a fuck what his name is. All I know is that I’m going to have you screaming my name until it’s the only bloody one you know.” Your mouth was open as you looked at him, clearly turned on and in utter shock. “Got it?” You nodded almost mindlessly and he clenched his jaw, taking his fingers out to slap your pussy, making you whine and buck your hips. “Got it?” 

“Yes, Tommy.” 

“Good.” He slid his fingers back into you and leaned forward to suck on your clit. “Now moan for me like a good little slut.” 

He put his mouth back on you, licking and slurping you up like you were his last meal, pulling a gasp from you. One of his hands was holding your hips down, fingers splayed out across your abdomen, the other thrusting into your wet opening, while his mouth lapped and sucked your clit. 

You felt like you could barely breathe or even process anything but his touch as he pleased you. He edged you three more times, each time, your whines becoming higher pitched, longer and breathier. Your whole body felt like it was floating, every time you were dragged away from the edge before you could tip over it, it felt as though you were being pulled down from the air, roughly, just for the cycle to restart all over again. 

Tom licked his lips as he watched you, your body completely spent as you lied there, panting, desperate to cum. He swiped his fingers through your folds before bringing them up to your lips. “Think you’ve earned it.” You opened up eagerly and his eyes were hypnotized as he watched you, his lips parted. “How’s my pussy taste, darling, hm?” 

Your eyes fluttered shut from his words and you moaned around him, making him smirk. He pulled his fingers almost all the way out before thrusting them back into your mouth, your tongue swirling around him and sucking him eagerly. He took his fingers out of your mouth and passed them over your lips, smearing your spit over them. 

“Such a messy little thing, aren’t you? All for me.” 

You nodded, your throat croaky. “Only you.” 

He hummed. “You wanna cum now baby?” 

You looked down at him, your eyes pleading. “Please Tommy. Wanna cum for you.”

“Yeah?” he cooed. You nodded as fast as you could, tired from all the edging. “Okay love. You can cum.” 

He wrapped his lips around your clit again, sucking just the way you liked as his fingers pressed against that special spot inside you. Your body lurched forward as best it could, your mouth dropping open as your eyes rolled back. “Fuck, fuck, fuck––” 

Tom’s eyes were focused on your body, one hand coming up to play with your nipples and squeeze your breasts making you moan loudly as your body convulsed under him. “That’s it. Let go for me, darling.” He kept sucking on your clit and thrusting his fingers into you as you came, your body tense as your breaths came out short and hard. 

“Oh my god––” You gasped when he didn’t stop, his lips and his fingers still going after you reached your high, going even faster than before. He was humming into you, his movements frantic but calculated as he pushed you further. Your eyes rolled back as you came for the second time, still sensitive from your first orgasm. 

When he sat up on his knees, you thought he was finally done, but you were sadly mistaken. He simply got into a more comfortable position, licking his lips clean to savor your taste as he brought his hand down to rub at your clit quickly, his other hand still furiously fingering you. Your eyes were wide, mouth hung open in shock, overwhelmed by the stimulation. Soon, you felt yourself approaching the edge again, but this time felt more intense, almost like you needed to––

“Fuck––” Tom groaned in awe as you squirted all over his hands, his fingers still going at it, trying to prolong the feeling for you and maybe even make you do it again. He was mesmerized by you. Your hands were restlessly pulling at the cuffs, your body trembling and shaking as you came, overstimulated. Tom pulled his fingers out of you and rubbed over your pussy quickly, making you let out a mix between a moan and a yell. He switched from thrusting his fingers into you roughly, to rubbing your clit, slapping it quickly as you kept squirting all over him. “So fucking wet, oh my god.”

Your eyes were shut as you panted, your head turned to the side, tucked into your arm, your stomach flexing and tensing every few seconds as Tom tortured you. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, you heard your toy switch on and without warning he pressed it on to your sensitive clit, making you scream. 

As he promised, you were screaming his name, your body shaking under him as he slid himself inside of you, the vibe still on. He was thrusting into you fast and hard, moaning and growling obscenities like ‘my fucking pussy’, ‘that’s it take that cock just the way you like,’ which only made your head spin even more. You were barely able to function, only saying his name over and over again while he used you like a toy. 

With all the time he spent playing with you, teasing you, edging you, making you cum––which he was still doing, he was super sensitive, so it didn’t take long for him to get close. “That’s it baby. M’gonna cum in my fucking pussy and you’re gonna clench around me while you cum one more time, okay?” 

You whined loudly, your head thrashing from side to side as he held your thigh, fucking into you roughly while he pressed the toy to your clit, putting it at the highest setting. “Tom!––”

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock. I know you can, that’s it. Gonna cum in this perfect pussy. Fuck.” He grunted as he released into you, your walls clenching around him tightly as you came again, your eyes shut tight as you trembled around him. 

He switched the toy off and threw it aside, thrusting into you a few times slowly to see your releases mixed together on his cock. He bottomed out, filling you to the hilt and you whimpered, your legs still shaking. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, reaching up and undoing the straps of the restraints. You sighed softly and let your hands fall down to his shoulders, barely able to move them yourself. 

He looked down at you, fondness in his eyes. “How was that, darling?” You simply mumbled a few sounds in response, the only intelligible word being his name. He smirked, kissing your forehead. “That’s what I thought.”

You both stayed like that for a while, you tucked into Tom’s chest while you caught your breaths, his cock still inside of you. After a while, he pulled out, earning a whimper from you and got up to get a towel to clean you up, since you definitely couldn’t walk on your own. You’d just wait to see how you felt in the morning. 

When he finished cleaning you up and settled under the covers with you after giving you one of his shirts, he pulled you back into his arms and you sighed happily, nuzzling into him. His hand was tracing patterns on your side, lulling you to sleep as you listened to his heartbeat. 

“You know,” he whispered. You hummed quietly in response. “I really liked tonight. With you.” He winced, realizing that sounded stupid but he held his breath when you responded softly.

“Mm I did too. Always do Tommy.” You were practically mumbling into his shirt, you were really fucked out.

He waited a few moments before speaking up again, but you had already drifted off halfway through his sentence, only hearing a faint I really like––before you fell into a deep sleep. 

––❊––

When you woke up, Tom was out of bed and you could smell tea boiling in the kitchen, along with breakfast cooking. You rubbed your eyes with your knuckles, squinting from the sunlight that was peeking into the room. You sighed and sat up, raising your arms for a much needed stretch. You then reached for your phone that you’re guessing Tom must have put to charge sometime last night or this morning since it was at 100%. 

You grabbed it and tried to stand up, yelping at how sore and wobbly your legs felt. Tom walked in just in time and laughed, rushing over to your side, “Woah love. You alright?” You let out small mhm signalling that you really weren’t alright. You couldn’t walk properly for Christ’s sake. “I really fucked you good didn’t I?” He smirked smugly and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah yeah. To the bathroom please.” He nodded and helped you along, his hands delicately holding you. 

“Do you need me to set you down on the toilet too?”

You turned to him about to scowl, when you noticed the sincere look in his eyes. Oh. “Um––No I’m okay.” You turned to hold the door. “But um, can you wait until I’m finished.” You looked up at him sheepishly and smiled.

“Sure. I’ll just wait on the bed okay?” 

You nodded and closed the door. 

You peed, brushed your teeth and washed your face, refusing to look at your disapproving reflection in the mirror. Yeah, this was a little fucked up that you slept with your best friend all the time and basically acted like a couple until you stepped out in public––but what else is new. Well for one, Tom had never been that intense before––he was really determined, possessive last night. Was it because you got Liam’s number? 

You guess it was an unspoken but unofficial thing between the two of you, but you never went past making out with other people, let alone getting their numbers and hanging out with them afterwards. Should you feel guilty? No, if he wanted to say something and tell you how he feels, he would, right? Funny.

You sighed and waddled over to the door before opening it and Tom perked up immediately, eyes finding you. You walked out of the bathroom and he watched you take a few steps, a small pout on his face. “You know I think I can walk better now.” 

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so.” 

You frowned. “Does it look that bad?”

He looked up at you, a cheeky but hesitant smile on his face. “No I just want an excuse to hold you while you walk.” 

You rolled your eyes but let him hold you anyway as you made your way over to the kitchen. He helped you sit at the counter and went to the stove to continue preparing breakfast. 

You crossed your legs at the ankle and sat up, fiddling with your phone in your hands as you remembered last night just before you fell asleep. It sounded like he was confessing something to you and you couldn’t help but be hopeful. It sounded like the next word in his sentence started with a Y and you wanted to clarify, to assure what you heard, to soothe your heart. 

“I um.” He turned, when you paused, looking at you curiously, a small smile on his face. “Before I fell asleep last night,” You noticed his eyes widened slightly but he quickly tried to mask it. “I think I heard you say something?”

He just looked at you, mouth closed, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“I think I heard you say you really like...and then I passed out.” You laughed quietly to ease the tension, “Um, what––what did you say?” 

He took a moment before biting his lip, obviously nervous, looking down at the floor. “Uh nope––Sorry I uh don’t think I said anything.” 

Your shoulders drooped. “Are you sure?” You pressed, not even hiding the disappointment in your tone. 

He laughed awkwardly, turning to put sugar in his tea. “Nope I uh––Didn’t say anything. Must be hearing things.” 

You nodded tightly, pursing your lips. “Right.” You pulled out your phone and scrolled through your notifications to distract yourself from the metaphorical sharp pain in your chest, seeing the dms from your friends on insta, twitter notifications, random game updates, but your eyes paused when you noticed a message from an unknown number.

Hey :) told you I’d put your number to good use

You smiled.

Maybe: Liam: It’s Liam, by the way. From the party. 

You laughed at how awkwardly cute he was and sent a reply. Not even two seconds later, you saw the three chat bubbles appear. 

Tom perked up from the other side of the counter, thankful for a topic change and came up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as his arms wrapped around you tight. “What’s so fun––” His brows furrowed as he read the text, his arms loosening their hold around you. 

You tensed and you could feel the air around you shift. You swallowed nervously, straightening yourself out in your seat. It’s not like you and Tom were dating or anything. You didn’t owe him anything. 

“It’s Liam––”

“Yeah I can read.” His tone was sharp, but unlike yesterday, it didn’t have a positive effect on you. 

You both looked at the phone when a new message appeared. 

Maybe: Liam: So I was wondering if we could get food or just chill tomorrow afternoon? I’d really like to see you :)

You took a sharp inhale, feeling butterflies in your stomach. With all the frustrations you’d been feeling and with how lackluster and clearly dishonest your last conversation was with Tom, maybe it’d be good to have a distraction. Try to move on. 

Just as you thought this, he spoke up, bursting your Tom-free bubble that you were forming. “You gonna go? On the date?” His voice was almost accusatory, offended, even. 

You sighed and he stepped away from you, looking at you in disbelief. “Yeah I think I will.” 

His jaw clenched as he stared at you. Come on, Tom. Say something, anything. He nodded and walked back to his tea, making you roll your eyes.

You called an uber and waddled off to the room, feeling his eyes watch you as you walked off. You quickly got dressed, in your own clothes and grabbed your things, not wasting a single second. When you stepped back into the kitchen, you grabbed your phone and made your way to the door. You spared a glance in Tom’s direction, noticing that he not only looked upset but hurt? 

You looked down at your phone, seeing that your ride was approaching and shook your head, “See you, Tom.” You didn’t wait to hear a response before you stepped out of the door, but you’re not certain that if you had stayed longer, you’d have gotten one anyway. 

––❊––

The next afternoon, you had agreed to meet Liam at a cafe halfway between your place and his. You both also agreed that this was a casual hangout, maybe not even a date, just a time to see what happens, how you vibe together. So you dressed comfortably but nice, you weren’t going to go so far as to show up in sweats. That would be rude. 

He got there a little earlier and insisted that you tell him your order so it could be ready for you when you got there. This boy was really sweet. You met him about ten minutes later. He looked up from his phone when he noticed you walking towards his table, a smile on your face. He kissed you on the cheek after making sure it was okay and even pulled out your seat for you. 

“I’m really glad you wanted to meet up.” He seemed shy, it was cute.

“Me too.” You smiled, taking a sip from the drink he got for you. “It was nice of you to order for me by the way, thank you.”

He waved you off, “My pleasure.” 

The conversation progressed gradually, staying in the typical small talk stage for a while when you first meet someone. How was your day? Tell me about yourself. And you wanted to be present, you really did. But your mind couldn’t stop thinking about how wrong you felt to be out with someone else that wasn’t Tom. You were shifting and fidgeting as you stared at the boy in front of you, a strained smile plastered on your face as you tried to focus. 

Ever so perceptible, he noticed that something was off and looked at you concerned. “Everything alright?”

“Sorry,” You looked at him apologetically. What was wrong with you? You had a perfectly sweet boy sitting in front of you but all you could think about was Tom. “I just can’t focus today. There’s just––some things on my mind.” More like someone.

“It wouldn’t have anything to do with that brown haired guy from the party, would it?” He asked gently. 

Your eyes widened slightly. You briefly thought about denying it but wasn’t that what got you in this mess in the first place? You weren’t going to lie to him. You grimaced. “How did you know?”

“He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.” He laughed. “Which I understand. But it felt like there was some tension.” 

You nodded, swallowing, trying to process everything. 

He shrugged, “I hoped it was nothing, which I’ll admit was a bit selfish of me.” He gave you a kind smile, pausing before going on. “Were you guys together or is it complicated?” 

“Definitely that last one.” You groaned and hid your face in your palms, resting your elbows on the table in frustration. “I’m really sorry.” Your voice was muffled behind your hands. You slid your hands off of your face and looked at him, giving him another apologetic smile. “I really wanted to hangout with you and move on because you seem really sweet and like the perfect guy, honestly.” 

He waved you off again, clearly flustered, only proving your point. 

“I just don’t think it’s fair for me to try and pretend I’m fully here when you deserve nothing but honesty and someone who’s able to give you all their attention.” He nodded, disappointed but understanding. 

“Well I hope he figures his shit out because he has no idea what he’s missing.” You sighed, you and me both. 

“Thank you, Liam.” 

You both got up and hugged. He kissed your cheek again, this time as a friendly and comforting gesture. “Don’t be afraid to call me okay? As friends.” You smiled gratefully and you both went your separate ways. 

––❊––

That night, there was a pounding at your door. Mia was out, so you were left to see who it was yourself. You got up and looked through the peephole to find Tom standing there. You sighed and opened the door, blinking when he stormed into your apartment without saying a word. 

His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides, his brows furrowed as he tried to contain his emotions and prevent an overwhelming outburst in your otherwise quiet apartment. The whole way walking over here, he could feel his stomach drop, his throat ready to hold back the bile that was threatening to come up. 

“Did you fuck him?” He spat out venomously and you glanced up at him in shock as you closed the door. Normally he’d joke about it, make a few passive comments, but he was never this direct. 

“Well hello to you too Tom. Nice to see you.”

“Answer the question.” 

“That’s actually none of your business.” You bit back, your brows furrowed. 

“Bullshit. Did you or did you not fuck him?”

“Again. None of your business. But you really think I’d do that on the first date? You must think really highly of me.” Your voice was sharp and clearly offended. He opened his mouth again but you spoke before he could. “Why does it even matter?”

He looked taken aback. “I––It just does.” 

“Why do you care, Tom?” your eyes were piercing him, begging him to say what you both wanted to. You were sick of playing the same game, hoping for a happy ever after when you kept seeing the same outcome every time. You were tired of being hurt and disappointed. So you finally just decided to give him a chance. To see if what he felt for you was the same––to see if it was real.

When you were met with silence, your eyes started to water. “Why?” Your voice was small, aching for him to put an end to all of this, to be honest for once. 

His eyes lowered to the ground and he bit his lip nervously, his arms limp by his side. When you spoke up his eyes jumped to yours, wide and scared.

“I––I can’t keep doing this.”

“What––What do you mean?” His voice was frantic and a part of you felt guilty, but you shut your eyes, frustrated with how much of an effect he had on you. 

“This, Tom.” You gestured between the two of you. “Whatever the fuck this is. We––We’ve never even talked about it! We just fuck with each other and then fuck each other like everything’s okay but it’s not! I’m tired of it!” 

He reached a hand out but you took a step back and he dropped it back to his side. 

“Unless you have something worthwhile to say, just go.” Your voice was small, tired as you looked down at the floor. Your shoulders sunk when you were met with silence again. 

“Get out, Tom.” 

“Darling––”

“No, you don’t get to call me that.” Your eyes were glued to the ground. 

“Darling look at me. Please!” 

You could hear that his voice was shaky, and if you looked up, you’d probably see tears in his eyes. But you knew that if you did that, you would just give in like you always do. And you couldn’t keep doing that to yourself. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself.  “Get out.” 

He scoffed, sniffing as he backed away. “Right.” 

You stayed in your spot, stiff as a statue, wincing as you heard the door slam on his way out. You waited for a moment. A long, painful moment. To see if he would come back. To try and fix things. But he never did. Sure, you had told him to leave, so maybe it was a good thing that he respected your wish. Or maybe he just couldn't bear to be in the same room as you anymore. Either way, a part of you wanted him to fight for you. To want you enough. But he apparently couldn’t tell. Once you accepted that, you let out a deep sigh. 

Only then did you sluggishly make your way to your room. Once you turned off the lights and got under the covers, the tears started to fall and it felt like they would never stop. Your breathing was uneven, hiccups jumping from your throat as you wet your pillow with tears. Your eyes were blurry, your body shaking, and your heart felt heavy. 

You cried, your tears flowing down your cheeks as you squeezed your eyes shut, your whole body feeling like it was aching from the inside. 

––❊––

As soon as Tom closed the door to your apartment, he cursed, shoving his face into his palms as he leaned against the wall of the hallway, trying not to scream. His whole body felt unstable, uneasy and unsatisfied with the way things ended. After letting out a shaky breath and straightening up, he took the elevator down and sulked all the way home. He was frustrated and upset. Couldn’t you see what he was trying (poorly) to say? Couldn’t you see that he just wanted you to himself? 

When he got home, Harrison was lounging on the couch, his eyes concerned when he noticed Tom’s demeanor. “What’s wrong with you?”

Tom stepped further into the flat, silent, still processing everything. 

“Mate what happened? Didn’t you go to see Y/N?”

He swallowed, his brows furrowed as he looked down at the ground, making his way over to the couch. He slumped down in the seat, leaning his elbows on his knees as he hunched forward, rubbing his face listlessly. “Yeah, I uh––She kicked me out.” He still wasn’t looking up, his eyes not even focused on anything in the room. Sure, he was present, but his mind was far from it.

He could hear the confusion and concern in Harrison’s voice. “Shit, man. What did you do?”

“Well uh…” Tom explained, his head hanging in his hands as he recounted everything––how he was so wound up he could barely breathe as he burst into your home, immediately asking about the date, how you put him on the spot, how he froze up, how devastated you looked when you looked him in the eye. When he finished, the room was silent for a good while, the only sound heard being Tom’s shaky breaths.

“Are you fucking dumb?” 

Tom looked up at his best friend incredulously. “Dude?––”

“You basically called her a whore!” Harrison practically shouted, getting more and more aggravated. 

“There’s nothing wrong with fucking on the first date! And I never called her a whore! I just––” Tom countered, getting frustrated as well.

“Well that’s what you implied, dipshit!” Haz took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers, resisting the urge to slap his best friend. “Why were you so upset in the first place, Tom?”

Tom opened his mouth and closed it immediately. He swallowed, suddenly feeling small and unsure of himself. “I––I don’t know.” 

Harrison looked at him deadpan. “Mate, you know why.” His eyes softened as he looked at his friend with pure intentions, wanting to give him honest guidance. “You need to be honest with yourself and her. It’s not fair to her that you keep playing this game, man. I’m surprised it lasted this long, honestly.” He shook his head, lying back in his seat. “You need to go fix this.”

Tom sighed, “I know.”

Harrison looked at him expectantly. “Like immediately.” 

“Dude, it’s late.” Tom looked at the time, it was almost eleven. 

“I sincerely doubt she’s asleep after what you did.” 

Tom winced, slowly letting out a puff of air as he gathered his thoughts, getting up from his seat. “Right. O–Okay. Shit.”

Harrison got up as well, eyes focused on his friend. He could practically see the thoughts flying around his head as he processed them all. 

Tom looked up at him, his eyes suddenly clearer. “Thanks man.” He stepped closer to his best friend and wrapped his arms around him. 

Harrison immediately reciprocated the gesture and patted him on the back a few times. “Go get her, mate.” 

––❊––

You groaned when you saw the notification from the absolute last person you wanted to hear from right now––at least that’s what you told yourself, anyway. You couldn’t sleep, obviously and understandingly restless with your thoughts. So you picked up your phone to distract yourself, but of course, he found a way to intrude your thoughts again. 

Tom: open the door please.

Are you serious––

You turned off your phone and put it face down on the bed as you stared at the ceiling. Fuck. 

You slowly got out of bed, throwing the covers off of you, though your body was almost dragging you back down, as if it was warning you to stay put, to preserve your heart. But your mind pushed through and took control of your body, you had to know why he was here. You padded over to the front door, your socked feet cold against the hardwood floor. You looked through the peephole to see Tom there, desperately waiting for you to open the door. He looked as though he would stay out there no matter how long it took. 

You took a deep breath and opened the door. Time froze for a few seconds as you just stared at each other, taking in each other’s appearances. Tom’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes and nose red as well, and you could tell it wasn’t just from the cold. You were sure you looked just as fragile as he did. He looked scared, but also like he had something that he was aching to tell you. 

You cleared your throat and even that small sound felt too loud for the space around you, for the silence you were both clinging too. You stepped aside, “Come in.” 

He gave you a quick smile and moved past you, his actions way more hesitant than when he first came over tonight. He really was nervous. 

You closed and locked the door and turned around to face him after taking another deep breath, this one more shaky than the last, your heartbeat starting to race. You wrapped your arms around yourself, shifting from side to side as you both stood there in front of each other. You had both calmed down since you last met, both your energies very different. He was anxious, desperate, aware. You were tired, hopeful but wary. But there was a distinct feeling of longing between the two of you.

“I um––” He swallowed, rubbing his hands nervously. “I have something I need to tell you.”

You bit your lip and looked up at him before moving past him and sitting on your couch, your knees pulled up to your chest as you watched him come over and take a seat as well. “Okay.” You muttered, eyes wide as you watched him. 

He sat down on the other end of the couch without taking off his jacket, the distance between the two of you seemingly getting larger and larger. He scratched the back of his head, looking down at the carpet and taking a deep breath to prepare himself to speak. “I just––I’ve never been good at...communicating when it came to you and––I was never really sure why. Or at least I was scared to admit the reason. I would just watch you and hold you when you let me and then get jealous when you walked away. I always felt empty when you left me, Y/N.” He looked up at you and you sucked in a breath, suddenly realizing how intimate and vulnerable he was being. 

“For some stupid reason I found myself pushing away the one person I wanted closest in my life. I was just so scared by how much I care for you, for how much I––love you.” He licked his lips and looked down again and you shifted on the couch, your heartbeat now pounding in your ears. 

“I acted like a dumbass. I’m sorry. And I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, hell I don’t even deserve you––” He sniffled before making eye contact with you again, a small smile on his face. “But I just wanted to tell you the truth for once. I’m in love with you, darling. Have been for a while now.” You could see his eyes tracing your face, almost as if he were taking it all in, preparing for if this were the last time he would get to see it. “That’s all I wanted to say.” 

There was a small silence between the two of you once he finished. You took a deep breath and slid over to his side of the couch, making his eyes widen curiously as he watched you. His breath hitched and he looked up at you, without a word. 

“You’re an idiot.” You whispered. But before he could retort you grabbed his face with two hands and pulled him in for a kiss. At first he was in shock, but he soon reciprocated, his hands finding their way to your waist as he held you, your lips moving together in sync the way they should. 

You pulled away and when you opened your eyes you saw him looking at you in awe. You ran your thumbs over the soft skin of his cheeks gently as you looked into his eyes. “I love you too Tom. Always have.” 

He laughed and you both sighed, happy, relieved as you finally got what you wanted. “I guess we’re both idiots then, huh?” 

You tilted your head, a small smile on your face. “You’re definitely the bigger idiot.”

“Hey!” He pinched your waist playfully making you yelp and climb into his lap. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and looked down at him with an adoring smile, but your expression became serious for a moment. You bit your lip nervously, looking between both of his eyes. “Don’t ever hurt me like that again. Okay?”

He answered immediately, not hesitating like he was before. “I promise, love. I never want to hurt you again. Ever.” 

You kissed delicately and pulled away. Once your eyes met, there was an unspoken understanding between the two of you, you needed each other. 

Your lips reconnected more passionately this time, but still gentle. Soon you were slowly pushing the jacket off of Tom’s shoulders, letting it lay on the couch. You both got up and made your way to your bedroom, still sharing kisses as you walked through your apartment, your hands holding each other along the way. 

Within no time, your clothes were off. Your body was resting comfortably as you lied in your bed, Tom hovering over you, his lips slotting with yours as his fingers stretched you out. You were moaning and sighing into his mouth, and he could feel the blood rushing through his body from the sounds. 

His touches were tender, and familiar as his fingers worked you up gradually. His thumb rubbed at your bundle of nerves and your lips pulled away from his to let a breathy sigh part through them. He smiled fondly as he watched you get close, your hips starting to buck into his hand, but you brought a hand down to hold his wrist, making him halt his actions, eyes searching yours. 

Your eyes were closed as you breathed out, trying to calm yourself down. You looked up at him. “Want––I want you, Tom. Wanna feel you.” 

Tom nodded, biting his lip at the whine you let out when he pulled his fingers out of you. His eyes were taking you in as he slipped the two fingers, wet with your arousal into his mouth, sucking them clean and letting them go with a pop before positioning himself at your entrance. 

You were spread open for him, legs around him as he slid himself in slowly, inch by inch. “Wanted to feel me, love. So I’ll let you feel all of me.” He bottomed out and the both of you moaned as you clenched around him. 

You brought your hands up to his shoulder and pulled him into you, letting him rest some of his weight on you as you held each other, every part of you that could be touching, doing so. Your lips met again, the two of you still moving languidly, but desperately as you yearned for every part of each other. Tom bit your lip softly, slipping his tongue past your lips to tease yours.  

He pulled his hips back and pushed them back into you deeply, making you let out a breathy moan and he trailed his kisses from the corner of your mouth, along your jaw to your neck as he started thrusting in and out of you. One of your arms slid across his back, pushing him into you, as the other hand found comfort in his curls, tugging and making him groan into your neck, his lips not letting up. 

His hips were slowly pounding into you, gradually picking up the pace. Everything about this was soft and loving, like a brand new start for the both of you. In a way, it felt like your first time all over again. 

Tom squeezed a hand between the two of you to play with your clit, his hips still thrusting into you relentlessly with purpose. His face was buried between your shoulder and your neck, his lips leaving soft kisses, and sucking marks onto the smooth skin. You were both breathing heavily, consumed by the feeling of one another.

“Fucking love you darling.” He was grunting as you both approached your highs. “Love how my pussy feels too. My good girl.” 

Your hands were desperately clawing and grabbing at his back and his hair as you felt yourself moving towards the edge, your body aching for a sweet release. You needed that relief. You needed to let go now that you knew Tom would be there to catch you, to hold you. 

“M’Yours, Tom.” You whined breathlessly as you whispered into his ear. “Make me yours. Cum with me.” 

He groaned loudly and bit into your shoulder, the two of you soon releasing together, your bodies curving in on each other as you held each other tightly. Your back arched underneath him as his thrusts slowed, his hips pulling almost all the way out before he slammed back in, reaching the hilt, making you gasp as he came inside you. 

He raised himself up on both hands and you pulled him in for another kiss, your tongue finding its way into his mouth, your teeth tugging at his bottom lip. The kiss was fierce and wanton as you pulled each other impossibly closer, almost as if you wanted to merge into one. 

When you both pulled away you were breathing roughly, panting into the quiet air of your room. You bit your lip and brought a hand to his cheek to hold him lovingly. He turned his head and gave your palm a lasting kiss, pouring all his emotions into the small gesture. You smiled up at him. 

“I love you.” 

He kissed your palm again, then your wrist, and made his way down, kissing along your arm, then your chest and finally looked into your eyes, responding before kissing your lips yet again. “I love you too. So so much. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying it.” 

You laughed warmly, pulling him closer so that your lips were grazing his. “Good. Because I don’t ever want to stop hearing it.” 

He smiled, licking his lips. “Deal.”

[selfproducingfanfictionauthor]

BTS Scenario: An omega arrives in your pack (Hyungline x alpha/beta fem!reader)

Summary:  An omega joining a pack is a blessing - an unmated one is a miracle. So when the village elder came to you not with authority in her eyes but pity and pleading for understanding, you had no choice but to let him go.

Or, an omega joins the pack and you’re an alpha/beta in a relationship with another alpha. The community asks for your sacrifice. Warnings/Notes: Implied Smut, slight ass play, Angst, Drabble (no resolution... yet) I wanted to explore a different dynamic in the ABO Universe, since it’s usually Alpha BTS x Omega Reader but how about the Beta or even the Alpha reader? Hope you enjoy!  Word Count: 2k+ (500 per drabble) 

KIM SEOKJIN 

(after he’s called to participate in the matching, and Jungkook is an unmated male omega who’s always had a crush on you) (though crush is a understatement)

He’s here for a final goodbye, you think as you allow him to push you back against the wall.

He kisses you with desperation, all teeth and tongue, as if he wants to devour you whole. He reeks of her but you push it at the back of your mind, together with your instinct to gain the upper hand.

If this is goodbye, let it be as soft as you two could be.

You close your eyes to blink back the tears and wrap your arms around his neck. You match his passion kiss after kiss until you both are panting, breathing in each other.

Seokjin slows it down and pulls at your shirt, slipping it off your head. His eyes are wan, and he hasn’t met your gaze the whole time. It feels wrong, but then again, everything is.

So you try to bring back some normalcy and let the urgency in your touch show. Your arms slid down his shoulder, pushing him back into your room, your strength easily matching his.

In the dark of the room, you tug at his shirt but Seokjin grasps your hand away from his chest. You thought he’s going to lead you to his cock just as he did many times before, but he pulls you closer until there’s no more space between your chest and his and leads your hand to his hole.

He’s dry as the dessert but her pushes your hand closer, until your fingers tap his puckered hole.

You can feel him force himself not to tense up, breathing deeply and dropping his head to your shoulder. His back is caved over you, like a tall child and he turns to graze his lips against your ear.

“I’ll let you fuck me too, if that’s what you want, jagi.”

Your eyes widen and you try to pull your hand away but he holds it still. Your other hand tries to push his chest away but his other arm wraps around your shoulder blades, unwilling to let go.

He keeps still in the crook of your neck, murmuring words you never imagined you’ll hear from the alpha, “I’ll moan like he did. Beg like he did.” His voice shakes, and you startle at the tears wetting your skin. It doesn’t even occur to you to wonder how he knew about Jungkook, and what had transpired the night before because here he is.

He’s crying. Your alpha is crying.

“Just please don’t leave me.”

MIN YOONGI 

(Your love for Yoongi knows no bounds, you can give him this. In which your arranged marriage is thwarted.)

“It’s a good thing we’re not bonded yet, huh?”

You try not to wince at the relief in his voice and instead you laugh, hoping that the dark is enough to conceal the wobble on your lip.

You are both lying on your bed, exhausted by your hours long of… what do you call it again? Ah, he did call it his favorite recreational activity. He figured sexual compatibility is an important factor in arrange marriages earlier on your engagement.

And you, in love with him for more than half your life, said yes.

His fingers are playing with your hair, while his other hand lifts a lit cigarette to his lips. He glances down at you, his cat-like eyes half-lidded.

“You want a smoke?”

Pulling the blanket higher to your chest, relishing in the slight flicker of interest in his eyes, you shake your head. “Actually, can you not smoke on my bed tonight?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow but says nothing and puts out his cigarette against the ash tray on your bedside table. Usually, you take up on his offer, and he’s not gonna lie and say that the image of your lips around a cigarette doesn’t stir his cock alive.

“Not feeling well?” He asks, the only time you refused his offer was whenever you’re feeling the drop after your activities. But usually, you’ll tell him outright, communication being as open as you both could.

You let a small smile touch your lips at his tone. He cares for you, you know, maybe not as much as you want him to, but it’s enough.

Or it used to be enough.

“Just a mild migraine,” you lie before pressing a kiss against his shoulder.

Yoongi smiles and kisses the crown of your head, “You know what cures migraines?”

Your smile grows wider as you look up to his grin, his hand already sliding down the small of your back under your blankets. “I think I have an idea.”

By the time he’s pulled out 3 more orgasms from you, the moon has started fading from the night sky. The brisk winter air entering your room by the open window, drawing goosebumps on your skin.

Beside you, Yoongi sits up and pulls his shirt over his head.

“You’re not staying the night?”

Yoongi shakes his head, “The trials start the day after tomorrow, I’ve got to get a head start.”

Your press your lips together, your hand sneaking down your belly. You imagine your child, the size of a pea, hoping they do not hear your breaking heart. “I thought you didn’t like being choices taken away from you.”

That was one of the major points of discussion when your parents arranged your marriage. It’s also a source of your many arguments at the start, before slowly becoming some sort of unwanted roommate in your makeshift relationship.

Yoongi pauses, there’s something in your voice that he can’t pinpoint. He turns to you, for once, you are unreadable. “This is different.”

“Oh,” you breathe. How so, you want to ask. How come a choice robbed by our secondary natures so much different than the ones robbed by our parents? How come it’s the lesser evil in your eyes?

How come I was never a palatable choice in the first place?

But you don’t. Instead, Yoongi presses on. “At least now, you know, if it turns out that it’s me, you’re free. You can go to university just like you want.”

“Yeah…” you chuckle dryly, “Well, good luck then.”

You don’t beg him to stay, you’re an alpha too and an alpha protects their pack. As your hand travels down to your belly again, you remember - you have your own to protect now too.

JUNG HOSEOK 

(You’re just his best friend. What can you say?)

“She smells like lilacs! No, wait, honey! Honey and cream.” Hoseok sighs, all lovestruck on your couch over the new omega girl in town.

As part of the search party that found her, he hasn’t stopped talking about her for weeks. Giving you updates on her recovery in the beginning, and then her smile, her eyes, and the way she laughs as time went by.

At first, you didn’t mind. An omega joining the pack is a blessing, given their rarity. They symbolize fertility and bounty, and you are nothing if not loyal to the community. You foster the village children as their teacher, you teach them the ropes of the land - how to feed the cows, how to plant the seeds, and how to prepare for harvest - after all.

But as time went by, as Hoseok’s visits to her home frequent and his visits to yours lessen, it’s become harder and harder to keep the bitter thoughts away. Hoseok may still visit you, but when was the last time you two talked about anything other than her?

“The trials for her mate starts next week,” Hoseok starts, almost as if waiting for you to say something, “I’m thinking of participating.”

From the kitchen, you tighten your hold on the tray balancing your tea and snacks. Without a wobble, you inquire as you step back into your living room, “Oh?”

“Yeah,” he picks up one of your cookies, suddenly looking all bashful, “I’m unmated and I’m not getting younger so, might as well give it a shot you know?”

You frown behind your tea cup, “We’re barely past our mid-20s, Seok-ie, that hardly qualifies as old.”

Hoseok leans back and tilts his head on the back of your couch until it hangs in relaxation. “It’s different between you and I.”

It’s true, betas are not so pressured to reproduce early. After all, there’s nothing special to be had in your genes, you think bitterly.

“Besides,” he continues, “I think I like her. You know, maybe we should invite her next time we hang out! You can get to know her too!”

“I’d rather not.” It spills over your lips before you could control it, and Hoseok stiffens before turning his gaze to you.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re jealous.” Hoseok teases, unaware at how his words hit home.

You stiffen, biting your lip before the dam breaks. “Maybe I am.” you whisper.

He blinks in surprise at the feebleness of your tone, “B-but… you’re a beta.”

You know. You know your place, in this village and in his life but somehow it’s different hearing it from him. Standing, you  turn away to step back into your kitchen when a hand grasps your wrist.

“I don’t understand.” Hoseok whispers, trying to look up to your face but thwarted by your hair. He doesn’t need to see your watering eyes to know there are tears in them. He’s reeling from the sudden change of atmosphere, smelling your distress in the air.

Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by the sense of inferiority and your heart caves into itself. With the last of your strength, you shake off his hold, pointing to the door.

“I think it’s best you leave.”

KIM NAMJOON 

(Namjoon has always been a man of duty, and though you are tough and strong, there are limits to what you can and will endure)

You pride yourself to be level-headed, calm, and objective unlike many of the alphas in the pack. You’ve never lost your control, or flown into fury even during your youth but at this very moment, you summon all your discipline to keep your lips from pulling back and snarling at the older alpha in front of you.

How dare she?

How dare they ask this of you?

“It is his duty.” She repeats and beside you, Namjoon is silent. Eyes straight ahead, back as rigid as the trees outside your home. The home that you two built for your children that will come after your wedding.

The wedding that’s supposed to be in a month.

But the longer Namjoon stays silent, the farther that future seems to be. By the time the elder leaves your home, you don’t even see a speck of it in your mind’s eye.

The silence continue as you clean up the cups and uneaten rice cakes. The silent clink of the utensils echoing in your quaint home.

As you wash the dishes, you feel like an outsider watching your body go through the motions. Scrubbing the plate clockwise, once, twice, three times, before running it under the faucet. Next, you pick up the cups, here, clockwise, once, twice —

“It is my duty,” you hear Namjoon, and oh, he’s beside you, hand on your wrist, pulling your hands away from the frigid waters, “you know that, right?”

As one of the strongest and wisest alphas this pack has ever seen in generations, your betrothal to Namjoon was tolerated at best. Alpha bondings are common nowadays, with the scarcity of omegas. So yes, your betrothal was tolerated - just tolerated, even with you being as strong and as wise as your betrothed - but now?

With that young omega in the picture?

They are making you feel as if you’ve committed a grave sin against the community, as if it’s not within your rights to rage against the unfairness of it all.

They’re asking you for your love.

And he’s so willing to be taken away. Your heart breaks but you nod quietly, “I know. I understand.”

Namjoon stupidly thought that was the end of it. That you knew he’ll always come back to you, omega or not.

Maybe he was naive, or he truly was selfish to ask it of you but when he gets home the week after the trials to a dark cold house the surprise knocks him to his knees and drops his heart to his stomach.

You left the kitchen untouched, his mug still next to yours but, Namjoon pauses at the threshold of your room. There, glinting under the moonlight, sits your ring and the last of your scent wafts away.

END NOTES:  Hearts are appreciated but comments are gold. Let me know if this should have a second (or even third) part! :) 

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part VIII

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~13.2k

Warnings: this one fucking hurts, pining, stupid decisions, miscommunications, explicit sexual content (it’s time for something we’ve been waiting for), yet another party, angst A/N: Read this, but before you murder me remember there’s one more after this. Also, this isn’t the big thing you’ve been waiting for, but I know it’s something a lot of people have wanted to see. Enjoy this ouchie. 

Mike doesn’t feel human when he wakes up. He’s nearly positive he no longer is—body taken over by some creature of the bog with toxic breath. Jesus, what the fuck happened last night?

 Blinking hurts. Shifting his leg hurts. His chest is fucking killing him, feels like he bruised his god damn sternum, and when he moves to sit up in a bed that is not his, overwhelming nausea has Mike groaning and covering his mouth with one hand. 

 “He has risen,” a vaguely familiar baritone voice rings through the air, loud enough to make Mike wave his other hand in an attempt to mute it. Erwin chuckles, paying him no attention apparently as he speaks again, “Good timing, too. I just came to drop this off.”

 Mike tries to focus his bleary eyes on the nightstand where his friend sets down a bottle of water, a bigger bottle of Gatorade, and several liquid gel pills. 

 “Chill here for as long as you need. I’m just watching the pledges clean downstairs. Want me to bring the trash can over?” Erwin’s concern can’t entirely hide the amusement in his voice. It’s irritating, but also… Mike needs that trash can.

 “Yeah,” he croaks through his palm. “Thanks.”

 Erwin nods and grabs the little plastic bin, setting it down next to the bed. Mike considers just picking it up and sitting with it in his lap, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay upright for long enough.

 “I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything, you’ll just have to yell because your phone is definitely sitting in a bag of rice in the kitchen right now.”

 “What?” Mike frowns. How even…

 “It got wet,” Erwin states, like that clarifies anything. “Probably in the shower.”

 “Why was I—”

 “We can talk about it when you’re less…” Erwin gestures to Mike’s face with one finger and grimaces as he finishes, “Green. You didn’t do anything too terrible, though, so you can rest easy.”

 He leaves, and Mike chokes down the pills and a few gulps of water before gently laying back down. He has to retrace metaphorical footsteps to get to the last thing he remembers from the night before, and it’s body shots off some blonde clone. His order of events goes: hanging out with Rhi, talking with you and Erwin, Zeke showing up, catching Eren mid-roofie attempt and throwing him out, getting mad at Nile, and then just a lot of drinking. Too much. Of different kinds. That had been dumb. 

 He thinks he spent a little while in the bathroom. Erwin was there. And, Nile came and went. He thinks he may have heard your voice a few times but can’t be sure, and honestly, trying to recall anything from the period of time his brain was literally incapable of processing new memories is a pretty big waste of time.

 Mike spends most of the day in Erwin’s room. He drifts in and out of restless sleep, waking up to drink his water and Gatorade. At some point, one of the kids, Jean, knocks on the door and drops a bowl of soup off, mumbles, “Erwin told me to bring this up here.” Mike hasn’t spent a ton of time around the current pledge class, but Erwin must like Jean if he trusted the kid enough to give him his room code. 

 The soup settles his stomach enough to move around a little more. His headache ebbs into a dull throb, and the sharp ache in his chest fades into that of a bruise. By around five o'clock, Mike is finally able to amble downstairs, give everyone a tired wave, mumble his thanks to Erwin, then drive himself to his apartment. 

 He's still trying to piece together what happened the night before, but he just ends up more confused than before, so he decides to put it behind him and move on. Everyone deserves a wild night every once in a while. 

 *

 Thanksgiving nears. Mike has already made plans to go home to his parents which means he has to turn down the Pike house Friendsgiving offer that Erwin extends to him. 

 He tells Mike that Nile and Hitch will be there, but Marie might show her face, "So, that will be interesting." 

 Some of the brothers who can't make it home will attend. Erwin is bringing Maddie who Mike hasn't heard about in several months, but he's pretty sure that's just to throw him off the scent of whatever Erwin has going on with you. You, who will also be in attendance because apparently your mom opted to go on a girls trip instead of face the family. Mike can't blame her. 

 He thinks maybe he should reach out to you, to ask about the night he blacked out because he has a feeling you can give him some details that others can't, but Erwin assures Mike that you were only in the bathroom with him for a short time. "Just long enough to see you rip your shirt which she seemed a little too happy about."

 Mike doesn't know what he'd say to you anyway. Even after learning that Zeke had blocked his number in your phone. He's still mad that you let the fucker get close enough to do that in the first place, that you had chosen him. It's a wound that just won't heal. Any time he sees you or hears your name, all Mike can think about is why he wasn't good enough. 

 So, he keeps distancing himself. It seems like the most appropriate thing he can do until he decides he'll be able to have a conversation with you without blowing up. 

 Mike's parents are happy to see him when he walks in the door. Scout jumps on him until he picks her up and holds her like the puppy she is not. He isn't surprised when his mom asks about you, if you and Mike sorted things out. The question hurts even if he was expecting it, seems like yesterday you were walking around the house like you'd always been a part of it. 

 Lying is the easiest path to take. He tells his parents that you had to go home for the break, that you couldn't split up your time between two families in just four days, and, of course, they buy it. 

 Thanksgiving day is nice enough. The family travels a couple cities over to Mike's aunt and uncle's house. It's much bigger, has room for the relatives that are able to make it. There are traditional Greek dishes as well as the usual turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc. A few pictures here and there, entertaining his younger cousins—it's a good time. 

 Until Mike checks his various social media apps and sees the pictures from Friendsgiving.

 They're tame, nothing wildly inappropriate, but they still make Mike scowl as he thumbs through them. 

 One of Nile cutting into the turkey, of Reiner ripping into a drumstick, Connie hoarding all of the cranberry sauce while his best friend, a girl named Sasha, does the same with the deviled eggs. Gelgar looks to be crying with a dot of potato salad in his hair. Marie is indeed there, glaring in the background of a photo where Nile and Hitch are tapping beer bottles together with silly smiles. She looks much happier in the shot of her and Maddie sitting together, laughing over glasses of wine. 

 Mike's heart stutters when he gets to a photo of you aiming to toss food into Reiner's mouth, then of you and Erwin both holding beers in one hand and pointing matching finger guns with the other.

 Thick as fucking thieves. Two peas in a god damn pod. Mike wants to throw his phone out the window of his dad's suburban. 

 There are several more pictures that Mike doesn't bother to look at. He'd like to have a good time with his parents for the remainder of his break, and there's no way he'll be able to do that if he's pissed off. 

 So, he distracts himself. He goes on walks with Scout and plays with her for hours, watches old movies with his mom and dad, calls a couple relatives from overseas to catch up. But, those pictures are seared into the back of his mind, surfacing whenever he has down time. 

 He doesn't have any desire to go back to campus, not if he's gonna see you and Erwin together. His friend can deny it all he wants, but Mike knows something is going on between the two of you, and as he drives back to the college, he finally has the realization that… you might just be a shitty person. 

 Yeah, you have issues, but so does everyone. It doesn't excuse you from—from fucking toying with people, from using them as puppets whenever you need to. Mike wishes he'd never even tempted you to sleep with him that last time. It had felt too good and too right, but apparently you don't feel the same way. You went right back to Zeke once you'd gotten what you wanted, and Mike should have seen that coming. He should have been prepared for it. On some level he knew that's what you'd do, but that never stopped him from hoping that maybe… maybe it would have opened your eyes. 

 Plus, it ruined the entire Jurassic Park franchise for him, so that sucks. 

 He picks up where he left off both in his classes and in his social life. He stays away from PKA as much as he can but still attends meetings when necessary. The lacrosse season is coming to an end, so he tries to make the most of it. Rhi ends up in his bed again, both of them taking what they can from each other. Erwin jokes that he's gonna fall in love with her— "You know what happened the last time you tried to keep it casual," —and Mike nearly decks him in the face. 

 You don't try to talk to him, no texts or calls. When you see each other on campus, you don't spare him more than a sad glance as you pass him. 

 Mike is fine with it. He isn't about to be the one to make the move to talk things out. Honestly, he doesn't know if there's anything to talk out. You dated Zeke, and now you're dating Mike's best friend and trying to hide it. 

 He's mad at both of you, but it's easier to channel that blistering anger toward you rather than Erwin who he has to see on a regular basis. Besides, Erwin has always gotten around. Mike isn't especially surprised that he'd try his hand with you especially after what happened at the ranch house, but fuck, couldn't he have waited until after he and Mike graduated or something? Just disrespectful. That's what it is. 

 *

 "Bro, I do not wanna go to another party," Mike's voice rises in frustration. "Consider me partied the fuck out, okay? I'm tired of 'em."

 "It's not even a party," Erwin tells him. "It's more like a gathering of��� like-minded individuals."

 Mike snorts. "Yeah, okay." 

 "I'm not kidding! Like, twelve people at the most. All we're doing is hanging out at the ranch house."

 "Will there be drinking?" Mike questions, moving his head back and forth in a mocking way. 

 Erwin shrugs his shoulders where he sits. "Of course there'll be drinking, but you don't have to partake. I just want you there to chill. Come on, man."

 "Who's going?"

 The blond lists off some of the Friendsgiving group, but he doesn't get to finish because once Erwin utters your name, Mike cuts him off with a loud, "Nope!"

 "Duuuude," Erwin sounds like the frustrated one now, not that he has any right to be. 

 "Don't dude me! Why the fuck would you think I'd have any interest in watching you two giggle and cuddle n' shit."

 "Mike," Erwin groans, rubbing his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you…"

 "You don't have to tell me anything. I already know what I need to know."

 Standing up, Erwin seems like he's at his wit's end when he barks, "You don't know shit! You're seeing what you want to see without asking either of us! She misses you, dude. I'm just the next best thing."

 "Nice to know your dick game isn't better than mine at least," Mike grumbles. 

 "Jesus Christ, you know what? I don't care. Come to the house, or don't come. Whatever."

 Erwin takes long strides to get to Mike's front door, obviously ready to get away from him. He slams it hard enough to make Mike flinch. 

 He doesn't care how annoyed Erwin is with him. It's partially his fault that Mike doesn't want to go to the gathering, and he should know that. He'll come to understand eventually, and that thought makes it easier for Mike to make his decision. He's not gonna go. He refuses. There's no way. He won't—

 Mike ends up going. 

 After powering through finals and visiting his parents for another few days. He has a mental debate the entire way to the ranch house, swearing to himself, going over the pros and cons. He comes close to turning around more than a few times, but after a couple hours, Mike finally pulls into the large circle drive right behind Levi's black Prius. 

 Erwin is extremely surprised to see him but keeps his mouth closed about it, just tells him, "Room upstairs on the far right is still open."

 Mike drops his stuff off then greets the others—Nile, Gelgar, Reiner, Jean, Marco, and Levi. 

 "Wasn't expecting to see you here," the last states, focused on burning the loose string of his hoodie with a lighter. "Erwin told me you guys had some bullshit argument."

 "Happens sometimes," Mike dismisses as he takes a place on the couch. 

 "I guess. This is why I don't have a lot of friends. Can't put up with stupid shit like that."

 "Oh, is that why?" Mike rolls his eyes. 

 Levi snickers, shaking his head. "Aw man, he was right. You are in a bad mood, aren't ya'? 

 "Man, fuck off."

 They sit in silence for a few minutes. Mike is bouncing his foot where it's thrown over his opposite leg—anxious or angry or some other negative emotion he needs to get rid of. 

 "Party's gonna be a fucking sausage fest," Levi mumbles. 

 Nile passes behind the couch just in time to hear and informs the smaller man, "Not entirely. Maddie, Marie, Hitch, and Mike's little heartbreaker should be getting here soon."

 Mike groans internally but speaks out loud, "This was a mistake. I can't fucking be here if you guys keep talking about her."

 "If you can't handle us talking about her, how're you gonna handle seeing her?" Levi scoffs. 

 Erwin has stocked the bar with craft beer and various wines. Mike considers going ahead and breaking a few bottles open, but he resists—doesn't want a repeat of the forgotten party. 

 They set up a horror video game upstairs and an animated adult series downstairs. Erwin wasn't lying about it being a more relaxed environment than usual, but that doesn't stop Mike's neck from prickling when you arrive with Hitch at around five. Maddie and Marie show up a couple hours later, and Mike can feel the tension that surrounds all four of you. Amusing as it can be, he really doesn't have the patience for cattiness tonight. 

 High quality Chinese food is provided courtesy of Erwin's father's credit card as well as dipped strawberries that Nile keeps feeding Hitch. It gets Marie very heated very quickly, and Maddie has to talk her down in another room. 

 It makes Mike wonder if you would ever let him feed you like that or if you would snort and bat his hand away. What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zacharias? That's couples shit.

 It makes him sigh and slouch on the couch, thankful you're upstairs watching Connie play the most recent Resident Evil. 

 He knows you're not a fan of horror, so the only reason you'd be up there is to avoid Mike. 

 Good. 

 Erwin is the first to open the wine. Maddie won't leave his side, stuck to him like a magnet. The fact that he has to get a drink only furthers Mike's theory that Erwin didn't invite her as a real date. 

 He spends a fair amount of time shooting the shit with Levi. It isn't necessarily the most enjoyable conversation considering Levi's constant smartass comments, but it's better than trudging up to the second floor. 

 Nile fucks Hitch in the bathroom for everyone to hear. Marie starts crying and runs to the porch. This gathering is about as insufferable as Mike assumed it would be. 

 Eventually, you journey downstairs. It was inevitable. You spare Mike a glance and sigh as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a beer—you don't even like beer, so why—

 "Hey, can you grab me one too?" Erwin calls out, and when you hand it to him, he gives you that hundred watt grin Mike knows brings girls to their knees, but while Maddie stares at him with that dreamy look in her eyes, you just snort and gently shove him. 

 "Don't fuckin' look at me like that, Smith."

 Ah, the last name card, the one that you pull to act like you're all aloof when really you're just reeling them in. 

 "Like what?" Erwin asks before taking a sip, still smiling around the rim of the bottle. 

 "You know what."

 Mike chooses then to go upstairs, knowing he steals your attention as he stomps like a toddler throwing a tantrum. 

 Why did he even come here? Was it just to give himself more reason to brood? Solidify that he's valid in being angry? 

 Connie is trembling as his character makes his way through a decrepit house. Jean laughs every few minutes, but he also startles at every jump scare, leaving Reiner to call both of them pussies as he bites into strawberry after strawberry, throwing the stems into a little bowl in his lap. Mike supposes the first years are entertaining enough. He can see why Erwin invited them here. 

 It's close to nine o'clock. Mike is bored out of his mind, can't help venturing back downstairs mostly because he's tired of watching the pledges swear and shout at the video game (including Reiner now) but also out of morbid curiosity. 

 Marie has returned and is sitting in the kitchen with Maddie, both of whom are glaring into the den where you, Erwin, Nile, and Hitch share the couch. Hitch may as well be in Nile's lap, but you're sitting on the back ridge, feet planted on the cushions as you hunch forward and nurse a beer. Your knee is against Erwin's arm, but that's the only point of contact. Still, whenever something funny is said on the TV show, he looks up at you, as if to check that you're laughing, taking it in. Mike can't blame him. You have one of the cutest laughs he's ever heard. 

 Levi and Gelgar are both on plush loveseats on opposite sides of the room, either scrolling or typing on their phones. 

 Again, Mike has to think about how laid back the party is—even if he's a mess. It's so different from the raucous scenes he's used to—blasting music and keg stands and dancing on tables. This would be infinitely preferable if it weren't for the open pit in Mike's stomach. 

 If he could just chill the fuck out, pay absolutely no attention to you and Erwin and the way his fingers slowly wrap around your ankle when you won't stop bouncing your leg. 

 Not together his ass. 

 When Mike gets a text from Rhi, he basically sighs in relief—the perfect opportunity to forget about you for a while. 

 He doesn't bother asking to make sure it's okay with the host, just messages back, what are you doing rn? and immediately asks her to come over, knowing she only lives about an hour away. 

 Naturally, she agrees. One of the only great things about Rhi is that she’s always, always down to fuck. Mike doesn’t know if it has something to do with his size or if she just has a high sex drive. Either way, he’s glad for it.. 

 He meets her on the porch after waiting for what feels like an eternity, just having to sit and watch you kick Erwin’s thigh whenever he says something dumb. He always retaliates by pulling on your little toes which makes you squeak and almost fall off the couch. It’s fucking maddening, makes Mike want to pull his hair out or throw something, just trash the fucking house because Erwin deserves it. 

 But, then Rhi arrives in all her Ugg boot glory, wearing the old, green hoodie that you had given back to Mike a few months ago.

 They walk in, Mike’s hands on her shoulders like he’s pushing her over the threshold. You look up, take the other girl in, then very quickly step off the couch and prance into the kitchen without saying a word.

 Erwin, however, makes up for your silence, wide eyed as he stares at Rhi and utters, “Fuck.”

* You didn’t want to be like Maddie and Marie, jogging to a private place to cry over a fucking boy, but god, you are definitely locked in the bathroom, hunched over the sink sobbing as quietly as you can. Your nose is running, and your eyes are burning, leaking god damn rivers

 It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was just in her normal winter sorority get-up. But the hoodie? The one you wore for months on end, the one Mike would sniff whenever he would lay his head on your stomach, mumbling something about, “Smells good. Might have to take it back.” He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he always felt a little jolt of pride when you’d wear it, like you were advertising how close you were to him.

 So, to see another girl wearing it—to see Rhi wearing it—it fucking hurts. Your throat is sore from holding back those loud, pained cries. Your stomach is rolling like you ate something spoiled. Your fingers ache from digging into the fancy, granite sink. Everything hurts. 

 It makes you wonder if Mike felt like this when you first told him about Zeke, if he feels like this now that he thinks you’re with Erwin—stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn’t have waited so long to talk to him. You should have cleared things up right after the party. Now, it’s too late. 

 There’s a knock on the door that makes you sniff and wipe your nose, but you still tell whoever is on the other side (most likely Hitch or Erwin), “Go away.”

 “It’s me.” Erwin. "Let me in."

 "Literally what did I just say?" 

 "If you don't unlock the door, I'll kick it in. It's my house, so I won't get in trouble for it."

 "Oh my god," you grumble before turning the lock on the knob. "Spoiled fucking brat."

 Erwin steps in and closes the door then takes a good look at your puffy face and red eyes. Sighing, he leans against the wall. "For the record, I didn't invite her. Mike must have—"

 "That doesn't make me feel any better," you say, grabbing some toilet paper to blow your nose. "Actually, it makes me feel even worse."

 "I just wanted to make sure you knew."

 "What, d'you want brownie points or something?" You ask sarcastically, making sure the toilet lid is down before sitting on it, bracing your arms on your knees and looking up at Erwin to find him frowning. "Sorry. I'm being a bitch, I know."

 He waves it off. "It's understandable. I'm not very happy with him either. The perpetual shitty mood is driving me crazy."

 You don't know much about that other than it being entirely your fault, so you apologize, "Yeah, sorry about that."

 "If you guys would have just talked it out like adults—"

 "Well, we didn't, Erwin. And, it seems like it's not even an option any more, so…" you hold your hands out in a clueless fashion, like you're at a loss. "I don't know what you want me to do."

 Your voice is thick, straining against the lump in your throat. Vision going blurry again, you shove your palms against your eyes, repeating, no more crying, no more crying, no more crying. 

 "I'm sorry he's doing this to you," Erwin says quietly. 

 You sniffle, almost laugh when you reply, "Not really different from what I did to him. Like," you have to blow your nose again so it doesn't start running, toss the toilet paper into the waste basket next to you. "I don't know if he's trying to get back at me or legitimately moving on, but I can't exactly hold it against him."

 "Still," Erwin takes a couple steps toward you. "Pulling this kind of shit is fucked up. He had to have known it would hurt you on some level."

 "You don't have to, like, take my side or whatever," you state. "I know we're friends and all, but you don't have to coddle me like this."

 "I'm not trying to coddle you. I'm sympathizing. There's a difference."

 "Whatever it is, it's unnecessary," you mumble.

 "Yeah?" Another step closer so that he's right in front of you. "So, you weren't planning on crying in here for the rest of the night?" 

 "No," you're quick to deny, but your lips quirk upward when you correct, "I was gonna go up to my room and cry in there for the rest of the night."

 Erwin shakes his head then pulls you into a strange embrace, pressing your face to his stomach with one hand while the other settles between your shoulder blades.

 Your first instinct is to shove him away, but his shirt is soft and smells like detergent, and his stomach is firm and grounding against your cheek, and the knuckles rubbing up and down the top of your spine are warm and soothing. 

 So, you stay in the slightly awkward position, shutting your eyes and trying to relax, but all you can think about is Mike walking in with his hands on Rhi and the way she looked in his hoodie. Is she cuter than you? Does she smell better than you? Does she treat him better than you did? 

 Tears well up in your eyes once again, dampening Erwin's shirt as they slip over your waterline, and before you know it, you're clutching the material covering the small of his back and crying against him. 

 And, he lets you—just keeps stroking between your shoulders and shushing you with a quiet, "I know, I know. It'll be okay." 

 Erwin is cocky and bold, takes things a little too far sometimes, but, just as you thought last year after he stole that kiss, he is good. Even if he's broken too many hearts to count and completely disregarded people's feelings, he's a good guy. At the very least, he's good to you, and that's what you need at the moment. 

 "What time is it?" You speak into his shirt. 

 "About eleven thirty."

 You hum and turn so that your forehead is resting just above his hips. It could be a suggestive position, but—

 But nothing. 

 You blink a few times, weighing the situation, everything that unfolded tonight—everything that's unfolded over the past semester and… it would make sense. It's not like you've never thought about it before. You're worked up and need to unwind, need to clear your head, and besides, Mike already believes there's something between you and Erwin, so why not take advantage of that?

 Sucking on your bottom lip, you go through a list of pros and cons. The biggest downside is that Mike will be upset with you. He already is, though, so there’s isn’t much to lose on that front. The upside is that you'll be able to forget about him for a while and possibly get an orgasm out of it. 

 "Hey, Erwin…" You're not entirely sure how to bring it up, but it turns out you don't have to. 

 "Don't fucking ask," he huffs. Perceptive bastard. 

 You push away from his stomach and look up at him. "Okay, why, though?"

 His head is hanging back, gaze trained on the ceiling as he admits, "Because if you ask, I won't say no, and it'll only make things worse."

 Something about that gives you butterflies. That's a good sign, means you might be invested enough to finally let your mind wander from Mike. 

 "Mike already thinks we're fucking, though, so unless you don't actually want to fuck me, I don't see why we shouldn't."

 Erwin walks backward until he hits the cabinets. His full lips are pressed into a tight line, and his blue eyes look like a warning. Don't push me. 

 "Do you honestly think you won't walk away from that feeling guilty?" He questions. "We know we aren't sleeping together, that we aren't actually doing anything wrong even if Mike doesn't believe it. But, to actually go through with it?" Erwin lets out a little chuckle and crosses his arms over his chest. "I probably won't feel bad 'cause I'm kind of an asshole, but you? You will feel awful."

 "I already feel awful," you remind him as you stand. "I already feel guilty. If you think I could feel any fucking worse than I already do, you might be overestimating my—my—I don't know—emotional capacity?"

 Moving forward, you nudge Erwin out of the way to get to the sink, splashing cold water on your face to clean it of dried tears. You cup a hand under the faucet, then toss some water into your mouth, swishing, and spitting, and turning back around. 

 Erwin's gaze is dark and not at all subtle when he eyes you up and down. 

 "I might hurt you, you know," he states in a voice that's considerably deeper than before. 

 You raise your eyebrows, unconvinced. "You don't have to worry about me catching feelings, Smith. Relax."

 Mouth tugging up on one side, Erwin smirks in a way that makes you squirm where you stand. 

 "That's not what I meant."

 It takes you a moment to decipher what he's trying to say, but you breathe an, "Oh," when you realize, then another as it truly sinks in. "Oh."

 That's okay, you want to tell him. I want to be hurt tonight. You only want it if it will hurt. If you confess to that desire, though, Erwin might back out—a disappointment considering the way you're starting to get a little excited. 

 "If I can handle Mike, I can handle you," you say, fully aware that he'll take it as a challenge. If there's one thing you know about men, it's that they thrive off competition. 

 Erwin is no different as he slides in front of you, hands finding your hips and pulling them to his. He's already half hard in his khakis, and you stand on your tip-toes, brushing against him as you do, to tilt your head back and hover just under his mouth as you tease, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before."

 "You have no idea how often I've thought about it—how often I think about it."

 You nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the way he licks it afterward. "Have you been holding back since we started hanging out—just the two of us?" 

 His fingers dig into your back, just above the curve of your ass, and you already know there will be small bruises left behind. 

 "Do you want me to paint a picture?" He rumbles, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Any time I have you in my room I think about fucking you. On the bed. Over my desk. Up against a wall…" A little gasp makes its way out of him as you bite down on the skin you've been sucking on, and Erwin ruts against you a couple times before continuing, voice a little more strangled than before. 

 "Thought about fucking you downstairs on the couch for the whole frat to see, all spread out, moaning like a porn star. I know what you sound like," he whispers, catching you off guard when he suddenly lifts you to set you on the counter. "I've heard the way you scream for Mike." 

 There's a pang in your chest at the mention of him, but it's gone just as quickly. 

 "And, you'd like it, wouldn't you? Being watched." Erwin trails his lips from your temple to your ear, making you shiver when he speaks into it, "You can pretend all you want, but I know you liked it when I walked in on you and him. You liked being on display."

 He isn't wrong. You replay that instance in your head a little more than you probably should. 

 Hearing the fact stated now, though, right to your face has your body heating, arousal flooding you and making warmth pool between your legs. 

 "You can admit it, it's okay. I've known for a while now."

 One of his hands moves to the inside of your thigh then further up, fingers dancing over your covered pussy. It's your turn to gasp. You clutch his shoulders and spread your legs despite knowing there's no way you'll be satisfied with this, not when thick denim is separating you from his touch. 

 "Don't get too cocky, Smith." You try to sound confident, but it's hard to when your breath keeps hitching. 

 "Why?" He grazes his teeth over the sensitive space below your ear, and it makes you twitch in his grasp. "I have every reason to be."

 He goes on to list every other place he's thought about fucking you—apparently just about every setting you've ever been in with him. Each and every Pike party, the locker room before or after a lacrosse game, his Mustang, Mike's Wrangler.

 "That's fucked up," you somehow manage. 

 Erwin shrugs his shoulders, mumbles, "Can't help it," then slots his lips against yours for the first time (or, the first consensual time). 

 You're reminded of Zeke, the way all you did was compare him, only now with Erwin, you have two men who flash through your mind. He's softer than Zeke but just as bold as he cradles your head and slips his tongue into your mouth—tastes sweeter than Mike (probably from the strawberries), but it's not necessarily a good thing. It isn't bad either. It's just Erwin… Different. 

 His hair doesn't brush your cheeks like Mike's does. He doesn't have glasses to dig into your skin. Clean shaven, no coarse hairs to tickle against you, and he's smack in the middle in terms of height. You have to crane your neck more than you did with Zeke but less than you had to with Mike. 

 It's all a little jarring, but you feel this was always sort of an inevitability, at least once you started spending time with Erwin one on one. You never would have let this happen if you had stayed with Mike—if you had actually taken the next step with him—but that's why you started hanging out with Erwin in the first place. 

 You never noticed the way your back and forth was flirty, mostly just you giving him shit about one thing or another, but apparently others read further into it. And, you've had as good a time as you can. The heartache has put a damper on things, kept Erwin mostly off your radar save for the days you woke up frustrated and desperate, but that's what your vibrator is for. 

 Apparently, while you were busy making sure things stayed friendly between the two of you, Erwin's mind was getting away from him. Every god damn time you hung out, he told you, whether it was at the house or out to lunch, walking with you to classes or out to your car. 

 He did make it a habit of touching you, you can admit, but none of it was inappropriate—a nudge to knock you off balance that would result in you hitting him, a prod in the ribs that would result in you squeaking and hitting him. Sticking a foot out to trip you that would result in you…

 Dude obviously likes to be slapped around. 

 There's also the hugs. Up in his room when you feel extra gloomy, he'd wrap his arms around you and sway back and forth. Sometimes he'd sit and pull you with him, turn on a movie and keep a tight hold around your shoulders. There were afternoons you'd walk into his room while he was studying and just pass out in his bed, up too late the night before from worrying and obsessing, in need of a nap before your evening lecture. He'd set an alarm for you, stay up for a while longer before allowing himself to take a break and crawl under the blankets beside to—

 Oh, god, you've been dating Erwin Smith. 

 You have to break away from him to laugh, lightly hitting your head against his chest so that he chuckles and asks, "What?" 

 "I—" You look back up at him, shaking your head to yourself. "I can't believe I didn't fucking see it."

 "See what?" 

 "You and me—"

 "You and I," he corrects, and you shove him. 

 "You and I have just been doing what Mike and I were doing."

 "Uh, excuse me," he holds a finger up. "We have not been having endless sex, thank you."

 "That's not—" You roll your eyes. "I'm saying we've been dating without actually dating. Like, I get why everyone thinks we're a thing."

 "Oh," Erwin nods, sucking his teeth for a second then adding, "Yeah, I was wondering when you would figure that out."

 "Fucker. Did you do it on purpose? Like, just to prove you could?" 

 He frowns, looking genuinely offended. "Christ, what kind of person do you think I am?" 

 "Not twenty minutes ago you confessed to being an asshole."

 His face softens when he snickers. "Okay, true. But, no. I'm not trying to manipulate Mike or you for that matter. You've been upset, and you've put up with a lot of shit over the last few months, and I just figured you could use a friend."

 Staring up at him, you notice the way his face is turning a little red, and you hold your tongue between your teeth as you smile knowingly. 

 "You caaare about meee."

 He scoffs and looks away

 "Heartbreaker Smith cares about a girl," you tease. "How embarrassing."

 "Laugh it up. You would've been miserable without me."

 "I mean, yeah, but still. What's it like having a platonic girlfriend?" 

 He tilts his head to the side then reaches forward to squeeze your thighs. "Is it really platonic if we're about to have sex?" 

 "Absolutely. Hundred percent."

 "You're not even a little worried that it'll become a regular thing and you'll fall in love?" The arrogance is both astounding and amusing. 

 Cocking your head, you take a deep breath, expression one of false sympathy as you pat his stomach. "I'm positive. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another."

 Erwin clicks his tongue before moving forward and sliding his hands between the counter and your ass. "I'm a little hurt, honestly. I'm used to fucking a girl and having to hide out for a while afterward—always so clingy."

 You squint, can't tell if he's being serious or overdramatizing to annoy you. 

 "You know what? Nevermind. I don't even want your little playboy ass anymore—"

 Naturally, he turns the charm back on right then, getting too close to your face, blue eyes flicking to your lips before he breathes, "Don't lie," and presses a tiny peck to them. "The tough girl act is only believable for so long."

 "Wow, fuck you."

 "That's the idea," he smirks. 

 "Har fucking har. You're so funny."

 Erwin pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and grinds his hips against yours then prompts, "Your room or mine?" 

 "Mine," you reply. "I'd rather you have to do the walk of shame later."

 "Probably a good idea since you won't be able to once I'm finished with you."

 You actually laugh out loud. It would have worked on you a few minutes ago, but all the joking has you a little giggly at this point. 

 Fuck, he is going to make a great distraction. 

 "Okay, calm down. Don't make promises you can't keep."

 "Sounds like a challenge to me."

 "Men," you sigh. "So predictable."

 After minutes more of unnecessary banter, Erwin finally coaxes you out of the bathroom you've both spent far too much time in. Your face has cleared up, the urge to cry subsiding, though your heart still drops in your chest when you pass behind Mike and Rhi on the couch, green eyes tracking you as you walk up the stairs in front of Erwin. 

 This is not the right way to solve a problem, but it'll probably be fun for a while. It's already fun as Erwin kicks the door closed and walks you back to the bed. He isn't even touching you, just watching you with a hazy blue gaze. He isn't smiling, looks like a predator, and honestly, it's ridiculously attractive. 

 "Stop making that face."

 "What face?" 

 "That—that—"

 You run into the bed, wave your arms to keep your balance, but Erwin presses his fingertips to your chest and just barely pushes to knock you back. 

 "What face, hm?" 

 The hair on your arms and neck is standing on end, anticipation bubbling in your gut as you try to crawl higher on the mattress only for Erwin to grab you by the ankle and tug you back down. 

 Damn. He's good at this. 

 "Stay," he commands, straightening up to take his shirt off. 

 He's tan and toned, light blonde hair sprinkled over his chest and above the waistband of his pants. 

 You're reminded of the very first Pike party you went to, the first time you slept with Mike (and can't remember), walking downstairs the following morning to find Erwin in the kitchen wearing sweats and drinking his coffee and smirking at you like he could tell the future. 

 Maddening. He's maddening. 

 You rid yourself of your own top then shimmy out of your jeans. Erwin eyes you hungrily, causing your whole body to tingle. It simultaneously makes you want to cover yourself and spread yourself open for him. 

 "I have been waiting way too fucking long for this," Erwin mumbles, raking fingernails down your torso so that you take in a shuddering breath. 

 "It's been, like, a y-year and a half." Your back arches on its own volition, hips bucking as Erwin scratches over the bones before catching your thong and pulling it down. He kneels at the end of the bed, a familiar scene save for the head of shiny, golden hair.

 "A year and a half of having to look but not touch."

 "Poor little—" you gasp when he parts your folds with his thumbs, staring at your pussy then blowing a stream of air over it. 

 "Do you know how many times I've jacked off to the thought of you? How many times I've slept with other girls while imagining it was you?" 

 You want to make another smartass comment, tease him about being a pervert or in his feelings or something, but you can't find your voice as he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. You stare at the ceiling, not even blinking as too many signals fire in your brain all at once. 

 Erwin is good with his mouth. Like, stupid good. He has a teasing rhythm, flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue until your muscles are coiled then moves to trace the ring of your entrance, taking his time as you turn from human to puddle. 

 He’s better at this than Zeke who would purposely graze his teeth over your sensitive little bud a little too hard on purpose, would suck on it until it hurt. He liked when you whimpered for him, liked leaving raised welts on your ribs and back from where he’d scratched. The intermixed pain and pleasure never failed to make you come, but the climb up to that precipice was usually precarious for lack of a better term.

 Then, there’s Mike (because of course there is). His mood usually determined how he would take you, hard and fast before a game or slow and lazy as you both relaxed in his room. One thing always stayed the same no matter his disposition, and it’s that he fucking worshiped your pussy—even said it on multiple occasions. He would eat you out like a starving man, lapping at your juices like it would quench his thirst. Some days he would overstimulate you to the point of tears, neverending licks lavished over your clit as he pumped thick fingers in and out of your cunt. Other days he would go down on you like it was a fucking hobby—turn on a movie, spread you out on the foot of his bed, and eat you out while only halfway paying attention to the TV. He could pull multiple orgasms from you that way, letting you come around a finger or two before returning to your pulsing clit. Fuck, you used to make such a mess. He’d spend minutes trying to lick you clean, but you always ended up in the shower afterward.

 You shouldn’t be thinking of that right now, though. You should be thinking about Erwin’s clever tongue and the fingertips just barely brushing over sensitive skin. You want them inside of you, want something to clamp down on, but no matter how much you pull his hair or utter a breathy, “Please,” he keeps the same pace, only moving on when he feels like it.

 He’s doing it on purpose, trying to break you before even getting to the point of fucking you, and if you’re being honest, it just might work. He’s gonna make you lose your god damn mind tonight. Exactly like you want to.

 “Fuck, how much p-practice have you had with th-this?”

 Erwin laughs, stilling your wriggling by curling his arms around your thighs. “Too much, probably.”

 You whine when he continues, but when he starts softly sucking on your clit, you’re surprised at how close you suddenly feel, your legs naturally trying to spread further but remaining immobilized in Erwin’s grip. The threat of not being able to move only intensifies the building sensation in your gut, and soon you’re gasping his name, eyes rolling as you try in vain to buck further into his face. 

 You feel more than hear Erwin groan, a deep vibration that pours over your clit and makes you twitch. He gives you a few more long licks, then pulls back and stands, exposing the way his mouth and chin are covered in a glossy sheen. 

 “Feel better yet?” He smirks.

 You wave a lazy hand, don’t want to fluff his ego too much, so you allow him to witness your borderline stoned state while still jeering, “I’ll feel better when I have your cock inside me.”

 Erwin laughs to himself, mutters, “Eager,” then takes his pants off. 

 Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you give his cock a cursory glance and stop. “Hold on,” then slide off the bed and to your knees. 

 If you’re gonna fuck Erwin Smith, you’re at least gonna appreciate it. 

 He inhales sharply as you place your hands on his thighs, eyes traveling over his length. It’s pretty, above average in size, smooth, with a flared tip that’s currently flushing a dark pink. 

 “I really hate to admit this, but you could be, like, a dick model.”

 He chokes on some kind of snort, and you swear his entire chest turns red. “I—thank you?”

 “You’re welcome,” you tell him, promptly taking hold of his cock and guiding it into your mouth.

 “Oh, fuck, fuck—”

 His skin is soft against your tongue, warm as you take him deeper. His girth stretches your jaw, but you’re still pretty used to the feeling, had to get used to it with Mike because he’s a little bigger than—

 That’s not important. 

 Erwin breathes through his teeth as he places a hand on the top of your head, and when you look up at him through your eyelashes, he lets out a disbelieving little laugh. That confident fucking tease is nowhere to be found as you swipe your tongue over the tiny hole leaking pre then surge forward, almost pressing your nose to his pelvis as you run the muscle back and forth under the base of his cock.

 “Shit, let me—let me lean against the bed,” he says, pulling you off him and chuckling, “Gonna make my fucking knees buckle.”

 You turn where you’re kneeling, waiting for him to get better stabilized before resuming your efforts to ruin this annoying, charming frat boy who is always put together. You suck and slurp and trigger your gag reflex a couple times. Erwin’s fingers scratch against your scalp like he’s looking for purchase. He’s careful not to be too brutal as he pushes you down on his cock, raising his hips to meet your rhythm. His head is thrown back, thighs tensing under your hands as his chest rises and falls with short breaths. 

 You have to work up to it, but once you feel loose enough, you press forward and let Erwin slip further into your throat. His voice sounds like honey when he groans a low, “Hoooly fuck,” letting his head hang down as he attempts to stare at you with unfocused eyes. 

 “Okay, okay, okay,” he huffs. “Keep going and we won’t get to the main event.”

 You pull off of him with a lewd pop then raise to your feet. Your knees are a little sore, but it’s nothing some exercise won’t work out. 

 “Want me to wear a condom?”

 “I don’t care. I’m clean and on birth control,” you tell him. “What about you?”

 “Well, I’m clean, but I haven’t gotten my birth control prescription refilled in a wh—”

 You flick his chest, and Erwin laughs as he bats you away. 

 “Alright. Up on the bed with you then,” he motions to the mattress. “Lay on the edge.”

 You do as you're told, spreading your legs for Erwin to stand between, and you bite your lip when you feel him rub the head of his cock between your folds. You’re still wet with slick—probably dripped onto the carpet when you were giving him head—which makes the glide easier as he teases you. 

 “Ready?” He asks, wriggling thick eyebrows until you smile. He doesn’t wait for an actual answer before he starts pushing in, pressing your legs to your chest as he slowly seats himself in your cunt.

 You’re making that face—eyebrows moving toward your hairline as if you’re worried, jaw dropping open as air is pushed from your lungs. Erwin looks focused, licking his lips as he gazes down at the way your pussy stretches around him. 

 He thrusts in and out at a tortuous pace, apparently waiting for you to start trembling around him before he deems you ready to take more. Every one of his movements is measured, slowly pulling out only to push in all at once. The ridge of his cock drags over your g-spot, pressing firmly against it and making you claw at his shoulders. 

 He feels good, satisfying, but he’s not quite as good as Mike who used to hit all your spots without even thinking about it—somehow making you beg like a whore and sing like a little girl in Sunday school all at the same time. 

 Still, you don’t have to lie when Erwin quickens his pace and pants, “Feel good?” 

 “Fuck—yes, yes, Jesus Christ—”

 He’s pulling all manner of crude sounds from your pussy, wet and greedy as it sucks him back in with every rut of his hips. The angle is perfect—his height paired with the bed on stilts has him hitting your spot every time, and you feel the need to warn him, “If you keep—keep fucking me like this—god—m’gonna squirt.”

 “Fuck yes,” he praises, wetting a thumb in his mouth before bringing it down to massage your clit. He only speeds up as your voice rises, body confused like your muscles don’t know if they should be flexed or relaxed. 

 You feel that tell-tale burning, that urge that only gets stronger the more Erwin abuses your g-spot and presses against your clit.

 “Shit, shit, shit—”

 Erwin groans when fluid starts to trickle from you, pushes more and more out of you while quickly swiping two fingers over your clit. The sense of relief is mind-numbing. You can’t even be upset that your sheets are gonna be damp whenever you decide to sleep. 

 He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t lose his rhythm, just sticks his two wet fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean. 

 You see it now—the skill, the appeal, why the girls always come back to him. It makes sense. He’s devastatingly handsome, especially like this, all fucked out and flushed, hair out of place, lips red and swollen from biting them. 

 Yeah, Erwin is fucking hot.

 But, that doesn’t mean he’s your type. 

 Pulling out, he flips you onto your stomach, and you have to stand on your tip-toes as you lean over the bed. The burn in your calves disappears almost entirely when he slides into you from behind, pelvis pressing against your ass as he curls over you, cupping your tits and tweaking your hardened nipples as he gifts you with a series of shallow thrusts. It makes you whimper and teeter forward, unable to balance and squirm at the same time. Face suddenly buried in the mattress, your cries are muffled by the blankets. Erwin’s hands travel back to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his slick cock. He’s getting a little rougher, pressing into you as deeply as he can, and the fact that you’ll be sore from this tomorrow gives you a strange sense of satisfaction. 

 Only way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else, right? Or, underneath in your case. Being a little more in control wouldn’t be the worst thing, though, so…

 “Erwin, Erwin, fuck—Lemme ride you.”

 There is no hesitation. Erwin slips out of you and throws himself onto the bed, grinning crookedly as he watches you climb over him on unsteady limbs. His patience must have worn out some time ago, because he holds his cock with one hand, using the other to line you up with it, then guides you down his length. 

 You have to sit still for a second, or you would like to, but Erwin is still holding your hips, and he rocks you back and forth in his lap like he knows. He probably does. He’s probably fucked enough girls to notice exactly when their eyes pop open, when they shudder and break out in goosebumps because that pressure is hitting exactly where it needs to, and yeah, he knows. 

 Finding it in yourself to move again, you lean over Erwin, planting your hands on the pillows by his head, then start bouncing on his cock. He hisses in a dark, appreciative way, eyes and hands immediately drawn to your chest. He sits up enough to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and pinching then doing the same to the other. 

 He’s so good—feels so good, knows just where to touch, the exact place to bite on your neck that makes you melt, but how—how does he know that? It’s like he has a sixth sense or—

 Or, he just paid attention to the bruises that Mike used to leave on the sides of your throat. That checks out. 

 Fuck, he used to mark you like he wanted everyone to see, especially that last night. It was almost animalistic, like he had been—marking his territory, Zeke’s voice plays in your head. It makes you frown, and you rid yourself of the thought only to replace it with the memory of Mike’s mouth on your skin, his calloused fingertips trailing down your torso, huge hands wrapping around your legs to pull you against him—

 You whine, glad it sounds like a sound of desperation rather than frustration. You just want to stop thinking about him. Just an hour—if you could go a single fucking hour—

 “Hey, look at me,” Erwin commands in a soft voice. 

 You open your eyes, still hovering over him, and expect him to say something, but instead he just reaches up to the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. 

 He’s helping move you on top of him, forcing you to take his cock over and over, and like this, so close and breathing him in, you don’t even have the room to think about Mike. 

 Both of your bodies are damp with sweat, and Erwin’s hair is a mess, pushed from his flushed face. He bites down on your bottom lip and tugs, only letting go to ask, “Where do you want me?”

 “I don’t care,” you groan, legs and arms and pussy growing sore. You’re not surprised; you’ve been going at it for a while now. 

 Erwin licks your lower lip as if to soothe it after biting it, tells you, “Oh, don’t give me that option. You know where I’ll pick.”

 Smiling, you straighten up then move to fit your feet underneath you so you can bounce more freely. “You can come inside, dude. It feels good to me, too.”

 “I really don’t know how to respond to being called ‘dude’ when I’m balls deep in a girl.”

 You shrug, “Sorry not sorry,” then raise and drop yourself, feeling in charge for the first time tonight. 

 “Fuck—shit—”

 That feeling is short lived as Erwin goes right back to using you the way he wants. You think for about half a second that he’s finally, really losing himself, but the accuracy of his finger on your clit proves that is not the case. He’s clearly having a good time, but he isn’t at that feral stage that Mike falls into sometimes.

 Before you can dwell on it for too long, you hit your peak, moaning Erwin’s name, hips moving uncontrollably as you ride out your orgasm.

 He’s speaking, mumbling praise or pleas or curses, you aren’t so sure, but after about another minute of fucking into you relentlessly, Erwin comes, shooting line after line inside of you until he’s spent and twitching. 

 With your two previous partners, this is usually when you’d fall forward and cuddle, catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of being all plugged up.

 But, it’s Erwin, huffing and blinking up at the ceiling then finally stating, “That was a dumb idea.”

 It makes you laugh for some reason, probably because you agree. 

 The sex was great. There is a reason girls talk about him on campus, about his sexual prowess or whatever, and if you weren’t too busy suffocating in your little pit of heartbreak, thinking about your best friend nonstop, you wouldn’t mind fucking Erwin again. And, again and again.

 That’s not gonna happen, though. The heat of the moment is fading, every mental faculty returning to you, and despite the fact that you’re still seated on his cock, as you look down at him, you feel absolutely no spark.

 He’s ridiculously attractive, pretty fucking brilliant but with a dumb sense of humor, and you love him. You really do. He’s done a lot for you over the last semester, made it at least somewhat bearable, but… This shouldn’t have happened. 

 Hopefully, it quelled his curiosity, though.

 “I told you it would just make you feel shitty,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t look sad. Sympathetic more than anything, resigned that he’s probably going to have to pick up the pieces of another mess. 

 “Yeah,” you drawl. “You were right.” Your joints pop as you stand, towering over Erwin for once and leaking his fucking cum as you hop off the bed. 

 “It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he jokes absentmindedly, wiping a few drops of white off his stomach then reaching for the tissues on the nightstand. 

 You don’t feel awkward or out of place, but you have no idea what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is, “I’m gonna take a shower,” as you walk toward the bathroom.

 Erwin moves on the bed, stretching a little before grabbing his pants and leaving you to your devices, but you pause before stepping onto the tile, turn back and pace over to him.

 “Hey,” you start, and Erwin glances up from the button of his khakis. “Thanks.”

 He rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips, and once he’s all zipped and buttoned up, he pulls you into a hug. 

 “I would say any time, but we probably shouldn’t do this again.”

 “Yeah, probably not.”

 You breathe into the space under his collarbone, humming as he gently scratches you back, then break away. “Alright, actually gonna shower now.”

 Erwin nods, “You do that,” then slaps your ass as soon as you turn around. 

 You look at him over your shoulder with raised eyebrows, but he just winks and tells you, “I had to. Just once,” which is fair. 

 You run a hot shower, scrub the shit out of your skin, lather your hair with some fancy shampoo then rinse it off. Once you go through your full routine, you’re happy to change into pajamas and slip into the comfortable bed. You don’t even mind that the comforter is a little damp in various places.

* You don’t stir when the door opens and closes, but you do when the mattress dips. Shifting slightly, you assume it’s just Erwin, falling back into your usual routine by slipping under the covers with you.

 As soon as he lays behind you, though, you know it isn’t Erwin. You recognize that weight, that warmth, that smell, and you are very awake very quickly. 

 “M-Mike?”

 All he offers is a little, “Mm,” to confirm.

 You chew on the inside of your cheek, confused and clueless as to what you’re supposed to do. 

 “Are you drunk again?”

 “No. Little buzzed.”

 Why is he here, then? You want to ask—What is he doing? Why isn’t he with Rhi?

 You start to turn to face him but you're stopped when Mike sets a hand on your back. It's oddly firm, keeping you in place as he grunts, "No, don't."

 "What?" 

 "Don't turn around." His voice is hushed and choppy, like he's gritting out every syllable. 

 "Mike?"

 "I have shit I wanna say to you, and I won't be able to if you're lookin' at me."

 You have no idea how to respond to that, don't know if this is going to be a positive one-sided conversation where Mike confesses deep feelings while actually sober, or if he'll just unload all the baggage you've given him. Either way, you wish you could see his face. Something about having him laying behind you, close enough to feel his body heat, has you feeling very uneasy. 

 But, you nod, "Okay," trying to put on a brave face that he refuses to look at. 

 For a while, he just breathes. You assume it’s because he’s gathering his thoughts or maybe working up the courage to say something, but the suspense is making you shiver under your blankets. You have that terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach, the mix of anticipation and regret you get on the way up to the first drop of a rollercoaster. 

 “Why have you been lying to me?”

 And, there’s that drop. 

 You swallow. “I haven’t been.”

 “Bullshit.”

 “Mike, I haven’t been!” You try to turn again, but his large hand is still right in the middle of your back. 

 “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” His fingers close around the material of your shirt. You feel it tighten at your chest, making it hard to breathe—harder to breathe. “How are you gonna tell me that right after sleeping with him?” 

 You open your mouth to argue, realize you can’t make a case for yourself, and when you snap your jaw shut again, the sound of your teeth clacking seems to echo in your head.

 Yesterday, you would have been able to talk to him about this and be honest when telling him you weren’t fucking his best friend. Now, though…

 God, that had been such a bad decision. Why hadn’t you just listened to Erwin? Why can’t you fucking listen to anyone?

 “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mike mutters. His grip loosens, but you can still feel a light tug at your shirt, the movement of fingers, and you think he might be rubbing over the material he’s still holding. “Pretty sure all of us could hear you guys goin’ at it, so… Thanks for that.”

 You take a deep breath in, squeezing your eyes shut because it sinks in that this is not going to be nice conversation. This isn’t going to result in the two of you apologizing and making love confessions to each other. 

 “I… I’m sorry.”

 Now, you’re grateful for not being able to see his face. You wouldn’t be able to stand looking at him right now, not when you know his expression will be grim—probably angry. 

 “I can’t really do anything with sorry,” Mike sighs. His hand drops from your back, but you make no move to turn over. 

 Your heart is like a hummingbird’s, beating frantically in your chest as that ache rises inside of you again, making your throat constrict and your eyes burn. 

 “Why’d you invite Rhi tonight?” You ask, hoping your sniffle isn’t too noticeable.

 “Why does it matter?”

 You suppose it doesn’t, but you still want to know, “Is it to get back at me, or is it because you’re actually into her?”

 Mike scoffs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but do you think I’d be in your room at three in the fucking morning if I was into her?”

 It’s probably the closest he’ll get to admitting it, but it’s all you need to hear. He’s been going out of his way to hurt you. At least any pain you’ve caused him wasn’t intentional. Until tonight, that is, and even then, you didn’t fuck Erwin to hurt him; you did it to help yourself. 

 Pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, you hold back tears and mumble a thick, “Just wanted to know.”

 “Want to make sure I’m still interested? That I’ll keep waiting for you to fucking realize—”

 “I have—” You turn over roughly, pinning Mike’s hand under your ribs as you glare at him, but he manages to put more distance between the two of you when he yanks his arm back and sits up.

 “I can’t do this anymore,” he tells you, and you think you hear his voice waver for a second.  

 The orange light pouring in from the bathroom is the only way you can tell his eyes are wide—worried—and it chills all the blood in your body.

 “Wh-what d’you mean?” 

 “I mean, I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he repeats a little louder, drawing it out like it’ll help you understand. “I cannot deal with you anymore. I can’t keep feeling this way, okay?”

 “Mike…”

 “No,” he stops you, acts like he has something else lined up but bites his tongue and sighs. He sits cross-legged on the bed now, hangs his head as he speaks calmly, “This semester has fucking sucked. I am angry all the time. I can’t focus in class, and I can’t play lacrosse without getting in trouble, and I can’t fuck anyone else without feeling bad—I can’t fucking do anything without thinking of you, and I’m—” he looks at the wall and shakes his head. “I’m exhausted.”

 “I am too,” you tell him, voice cracking as that lump in your throat grows and bubbles, pushing hot tears from your eyes that you quickly wipe away. “Mike, I am too, so can we just—”

 “No,” he cuts you off again. “Whatever it is you’re about to say—move on, pretend it didn’t happen, pick up where we left off, whatever… the answer is no.”

 He seems like he already has his mind made up, came into the room with a plan, and he isn’t gonna let you talk him out of it. 

 So, you stay as silent as you can, sniffing and swallowing and letting the comforter catch every teardrop. 

 “I have been… Right in front of you this whole time. I made myself completely available for a year—was at your beck and fucking call. I was—I mean—I was good to you, right?” He sounds incredulous, like he can barely believe he’s asking. 

 “Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah, you were.”

 “Then, why…? Zeke? And, now Erwin?”

 “Do you want me to try to explain, or do you just wanna rant for a while?”

 Mike glances at you, looks surprised that you’d give him the option. 

 “Honestly, I don’t really wanna hear it. You’ve more than proved your point.”

 Indignation swirls in your stomach alongside your nausea, and you press, “My point being?”

 “That I’m not good enough.”

 Oh, god. No, no, no. You could understand him being angry. You’re okay with him being angry, it’s fine. But, this—this feeling of inferiority? That is so much worse. It makes you sick. This is the last thing you’d ever want Mike to feel. It’s the last thing he should feel because it’s false. He has no reason—he’s too good and too kind and too warm. He’s like… He’s fucking sunshine. He can light up a room, and he doesn’t even know it.

 “Mike, n-no,” your voice breaks, making you sound like a wounded animal. “You are so, so good. You are more than enough, I promise.”

 He snorts in a self-deprecating manner. “Then, why—”

 “Because I’m not good enough. I fucked this up. This is my fault, and I can own that as long as you know that there is absolutely no—nothing wrong with you,” the last part comes out as a squeak as you try not to hyperventilate and cry the way your body is urging you to. Not yet. 

 Mike nods a few times. You can see his mouth moving from the side like he’s biting his lip or sucking his teeth until he agrees, “Yeah,” then adds a quiet, “Whatever you say, babe,” that makes you want to throw up.

 Mike scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. You assume he’s about to leave, let you be alone with your thoughts, so when he rounds the corner to get to your side, you sit up a little straighter. 

 Half of his face is illuminated, casting shadows under his eyes, highlighting the bruise on his neck that Rhi probably left, but your gaze is trained on his as he leans down to you. A finger hooks under your chin, and Mike tilts your face at an angle, kissing you so softly that it’s painful. 

 His lips are warm and familiar, everything you’ve been craving as they cover yours. There’s no tongue, no force, just light pressure as he inhales through his nose.

 You know what this is, what he’s doing, but you can’t prepare yourself because there’s still that tiny string of hope you’re grappling for. He just needs a break. You just need to give him space. That’s all—

 “I love you,” Mike murmurs. His voice is low and honest and slices you open. “I love you so fucking much it hurts, and I just—” He brushes a thumb over your lower lip as he pulls away, and it takes everything in you not to grab his hand and beg him to stay. “It’s like I hate you too.”

 You pull away to wipe your face with the blanket. There’s so much you want to say but have no idea how to articulate it, so all you can do is stare at Mike with wide, watery eyes. He… hates you. He hates you. 

 Straightening, Mike’s expression is suddenly nonchalant, like he just flipped a switch in his brain. “I’m not exactly the social butterfly I used to be, but I wanna have fun my last semester of undergrad—make up for the time I lost fucking brooding over you, so—”

 “I’ll stop going to the Pike house,” you tell him quietly. It’s easier to make the decision yourself rather than have to hear it from his mouth: Don’t come around anymore. I don’t want to see you. 

 “Cool. And, if you, like, see me on campus or anything—”

 You cough, maybe gag, you can’t really tell at this point because wow, this just keeps getting worse. 

 “I won’t bother you.”

 “Cool.” He bends to press another much more patronizing kiss to the crown of your head, then starts walking toward the door. “I’m just gonna try to move on, you know? Start fresh. And, you should do the same. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.” 

 You don’t watch him leave, just listen for the door to click shut behind him before you crawl out of bed, turn the lights on, and start packing your things. 

 You and Hitch drove together, but you have no doubt that she'll be able to get a ride with Nile, and with that thought, you’re out of the ranch house and on the road just as the first rays of the morning sun start shining over the horizon.

 *

 It’s surprisingly easy for Mike to slip back into his old, obnoxious persona, and the remainder of the school year is spent partying, fucking, and cramming for tests he should have studied for weeks in advance.

 But, life is short, and he’s done beating himself up over stupid shit.

 Most of his PKA brothers are happy to have him “back”, and the pledges get the chance to see this of him, but there are times when Mike catches Erwin or Nile shaking their heads at him. He doesn’t mind much. They can both go fuck themselves for all he cares. 

 True to your word, you don’t show your face around the house. There were a few weeks after the holiday get-together where Erwin would disappear for a few hours at a time and come back either tired or angry, sometimes a combination of the two. 

 He attempted to bring you up in a conversation a total of one time, right in the middle of a party where Mike had been eyeing up a sorority girl. He brushed his friend off, easily telling Erwin, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to me about her,” through the crooked grin he was flashing at the little blond across the room. 

 Erwin didn’t bother after that, obviously deeming Mike a lost cause. 

 Mike knows better, though. He isn’t lost anymore. In fact, he’s found himself all over again.

 Every once in a while, he’ll catch a glimpse of you on campus, but whenever that happens, he just turns around and takes a different route to wherever he’s going. He doesn’t want to give you any reason to think you can talk to him—doesn’t want to give you the chance.

 He’s spent too much of his time hung up on you, too much time pining and hurting, and that hasn’t disappeared entirely. Mike can still clearly remember the way you looked at him the last night the two of you spoke, the way your tears twinkled in the dim light. He remembers how strangled you sounded while speaking, remembers the way your shoulders shook as you fought your emotions, remembers the way your lips trembled against his. 

 It wasn’t very satisfying. Mike left the ranch house the following morning sporting a few bruises on the outside thanks to Rhi as well as a few bruises on the inside thanks to you. 

 That entire night had been a clusterfuck—between Maddie and Marie storming off to cry then the little stunt he pulled by inviting Rhi, it had been much too dramatic for a gathering of that size. Mike experienced a wide variety of emotions that night, but the one that stands out the most is the searing rage that threatened to burn him from the inside, the red the clouded his vision as soon as he heard you moan Erwin’s name through the wall. 

 Mike had already been toying with the idea of severing all ties with you, but that’s what pushed him over the edge, watching you put on your little show when Rhi walked in only to turn around and have a grand fucking time with his best friend. 

 It needed to happen. Mike needed to free himself of you. It feels good. Mostly. There are still some days he comes close to giving in, just picking up his phone and calling you, but he resists, and he’s better for it. 

 He gets through his classes, does well on his finals after actually putting in the time to prepare for them, and by the time Mike graduates, he’s already been accepted to the graduate program of his choice and has an internship lined up. The tension between him and Erwin has faded for the most part, which is great since he’s going to grad school in the same area up north. Things look… promising—something he didn’t think possible without you by his side, something he didn’t want to be possible without you by his side. 

 But, now, here he is, unpacking his new apartment with the help of Scout who insists on sniffing absolutely everything. He’s halfway across the country from his parents, away from all he’s ever known, and Mike couldn’t be more thrilled about it. 

 He can go full days without sparing you a thought now, and he hopes—he prays—that one day he’ll think of you for the last time in his life. 

[ next ]

[idontblushsrry]

How the Jujutsu Kaisen Characters Smell

A/N: Absolutely no one asked for this but I have thoughts and now yall have to hear them. Btw gonna put a keep reading because I’m trying to cover as many jjk characters as possible so it’s gonna get long.

Warnings: Spoilers if you’ve only seen the anime or haven’t read the manga up to the Shibuya Arc (relatively minor but you’ve been warned)

Itadori

He’s nowhere near the best smelling but his scent isn’t awful 

He sweats a lot so he takes showers a minimum of 2x a day

Overall his smell isn’t that bad, he just smells like outside 

5/10 points for effort but he always smells like he just got done rolling around in grass

Fushiguro

Fushiguro smells like the suave ocean breeze body wash with an undertone of pen ink 

His smell is very nice, it’s not the most remarkable but it’s not stinky

Middle school Megumi was definitely a hot mess that smelled solely of axe body spray and other middle schoolers he beat up (Tsumiki tried her best but there was only so much he’d compromise on)

After he started attending the Tokyo school, Maki threw out his axe and made Gojo buy him actual cologne/scented body wash

7/10 smells like a friend (points reduced because he used to use 3 in 1 body wash)

Kugisaki

Kugisaki is very much clean

She keeps up a beauty regimen and doesn’t play when it comes to upkeeping it

She has this light floral scent because of that; it varies between cucumbers and roses

Her body wash is also consistent with the smell of her beauty products

One thing about Kugisaki’s smell is that it does change completely depending on what products she’s using

Although, if she were to be completely clean with no scented products, she’d have a smell that’s a little bit metallic because of the nails and a little pumpkin-y

10/10 points because she sets the standard

Gojo

Smells like the inside of a guys car

He smells like bergamot and cedarwood mixed with a hint of leather

Overall he smells nice and it’s frustrating because his scent lingers. It’s so distinct that even when he’s gone, his scent will stay behind just to taunt you

9/10 minus one point for being Gojo

Maki

She’s very particular about hygiene 

It mainly stems from 1) her upbringing and 2) the level of cleanliness needed to clean all the weapons she uses regularly

She smells of metal polish, lavender with a hint of patchouli, and a slight undertone of rust

10/10 overall very strong scent but it’s so uniquely her that it’s calming 

Inumaki

This makes no sense but I feel like Inumaki smells like the sandwich part of a deli

Specifically that fresh baked bread and sliced lettuce smell

It can be a bit nostalgic at times especially because the smell in general occurs in a lot of places 

10/10 because bread smells good

Panda

It’s canon that Panda smells like the sun but we can get more specific

Panda does smell like the sun but I think he smells like a freshly cleaned room with the curtains open

The smell is like air freshener mixed with the sun

The air fresheners he smells the most like are: morning and dew, wood, pine, pet odor eliminator

10/10 no explanation needed

Yuta

Smells like teen spirit

Pre-jujutsu high (and before he was sent away to Africa); Yuta smelled like deodorant

He smelled like wayyy too much old spice, it was pretty bad

Post trip to Africa (idk which country he went to), Yuta smells of shea butter, frankincense, and charred wood

8/10 the crimes of pre jujutsu high Yuta will not be easily forgiven

Nanami

He smells like the blue Ralph Polo Lauren cologne

No I will not take criticism

He also smells a bit like the wrinkle spray people use when ironing clothes

10/10 we been knew that Nanami looks good, smells good, and dresses good

I don’t even like that cologne but for him...

Shoko

Love Shoko but her smell isn’t the most pleasant

Literally smells like cigarettes and alcohol with the sterile smell of cleaner to top it off

She’s an icon but her smell can be overwhelming at the best of times and suffocating at the worst

5/10 some people might like it but it is not for me

Utahime

Her scent is very foresty, either pine or spruce, with an undertone of gree tea

Her scent is a bit muted too so you can only really smell it if she’s really close or if you’re hugging her

It’s not a bad scent though, it’s the type that immediately sets you on ease

10/10 smells like a warm hug

Mechamaru(spoilers)

He’s a robot what’d you expect???

Jkjk Pre-Shibuya he smells really sterile and clean due to his condition

His robots obviously smell like metal and wiring

Post-Shibuya arc(or yk during technically): He smells kind of like nothing

There's the slightest smell of sparks from his cursed technique and the hint of mojito’s smell lingering, but otherwise he smells like absolutely nothing

6/10 the lack of smell is a bit off putting

Miwa

I can’t explain but I feel like Miwa smells like banana and vanilla

Like Mai and Momo tricked her and she ended up actually liking the smell

6/10 not the worst but not the best

Mai

Mai smells really heavily of metal and gunpowder

Obviously brcause of her cursed technique but she ever expected it to stck to her like it does

She doesn’t make any active effort to change it though because she thinks it makes her seem cool and mysterious

4/10 because while it DOES make her seem cool and mysterious, she scares locals

Momo

She definitely uses bath and body works perfume (tempted to say she uses the glittery versions but alas)

She loves using all the candles, lotions, and perfumes because of how girly they make her feel; has a collection that’s probably on a rotater

Definitely uses sweet pea above all

Tries to get Mai to try some of her fragrances but she has a 30/70 chance of getting her to agree

7/10 another scent that’s not for me

Todo

He has a really intense cleaning regimen and is never caught lackin in the smell department

He gets all the more embarrassed when Yuuji smells stinky next to him and will always make Yuuji shower if thr boy stinks

Other than that, he smelled of an ocean-y cologne before Takada-chan released her perfume collection

Now all he talks about is how he smells like the perfect husband for Takada

Takada’s perfume is really light a floral (along the lines of rose + vanilla) and if Todo runs out, he tries to steal it from Momo’s collection

9/10 minus a point for being a simp

Noritoshi

Smells really clean except for when he’s using his cursed technique

On average, Noritoshi smells like the clean linen spray/ clean laundry

When he uses his technique, he smells like blood and when he uses his technique to “dope”, he smells like sweat

Usually he smells like clean laundry though, he’s very picky about how he smells and hates the smell he gets from using his technique

10/10 for keeping clean

Naoya

If you think this man washes his ass...

Sorry but he’s a little too busy being a misogynist 

Naoya saw the term gooch grease and was like “wow someone gets it!”

-400/10 I’m sick of talking about the ways this man smells like a popped neck pimple

Mahito

Only person that smells worse than Naoya

If Naoya smells like a popped neck pimple, Mahito smells like a literal sewer

He smells like sewage, garbage, rot and decay, melted plastic,etc.

Not only does Mojito’s body stink, his breath stinks, hair stinks, just everything stinks

Jogo and Hanami can’t tell since they don’t have noses but everytime Geto gets a whiff, he dies a little inside

-21982913293237932392379319210391090320323019/10 GET BACK. GET BACK. GET BACK.

Sukuna

Pre-death; he smelled like blood 9 times out of 10 

The other 10% of times he smelled like incense or jasmine but you’d never smell it for long

Post-death; stinky funky and rotten

I’m sorry but 1) he’s a mass murder who literally sits atop a mountain of skulls 2) he’s technically dead and only exists thriugh his fingers

If you think that man smells like anything other than rot and grave wax...

-2/10 be glad he got a higher score than Mahito

Choso

I love Choso with every ounce of my being 

That being said, he smells like a scab

Scabs don’t even have smells but somehow he smells like one 

Alright I’m done slandering him

3/10 because I didn’t have the heart to give him anything lower

Geto(spoilers)

Pre-Gojo angst: Geto was the best smelling sorcerer in the world

He was very meticulous about his grooming routine and showed Gojo how to care for himself w/o the aid of servants

A king of self care and personal grooming 10/10

Post-Gojo angst: Geto really stopped caring about his appearance

He’d keep clean to set a good example for his kids, but he didn’t really see the value of looking decent

Probably says “I refuse to use the technology of monkeys”

Even though Mahito smells worse, Geto does still hang around Mahito and that’s gonna rub off

2/10 take a shower man, sea water doesn’t count as cleaning yourself

Junpei

Junpei smells like dandelions/picked grass and cigarettes

Cigarettes are obviously because his mom smokes them so frequently the smell sticks to him

The dandelions/ picked grass smell is because Junpei spends a lot of time outside 

Out of boredom or a need to keep his negative thoughts at bay, Junpei started picking at the grass

I do think he eventually started weaving flower crowns made of dandelions and strips of grass

6/10 because I feel bad for him

Toji

This man...

As much as I’d like to pretend he smells good, he has a drooling worm hanging off him and  probably owns like one outfit

That being said, he’s not as stinky as Naoya or Mahito (or even Sukuna), because he does clean himself when he has the chance

It’s just that he spends his money so quickly that he kinda forgets sometimes

Although he usually has no problem finding some woman who’d be more than willing to put him up in a hotel room

His smell is musky but it’s not funky

He smells like a guy right before they start to get stinky, it’s a delicate balance

4/10 he’s a lil funky but it kinda feeds his image

[kouomi]

Misunderstandings

Summary: after miscommunication and many misunderstandings, you feel it is left up to you to end things with Bokuto for both of yours sake.

Warnings: slight angst, sad Bokuto :(, fluff at end!

Word count: 2,837

A/N: this is based off a dream I had lol so it might be a lil iffy. (Akaashi is rly a life saver in this that mans is a god(it has a good ending don’t worry))

Posted: March 4, 2021, 10:05 PM EST

Despite the scheduled time for the training camp being long over, the lights in gym three were still on and there was the constant sound of a volleyball being smacked to the ground accompanied by shoes squeaking on the wooden floors. Loud yells could be heard every time there was a successful spike or block from any of the boys who were practicing, no hints of fatigue present though they’d been at it for hours. All of these noises were silent to you as you approached though, your thoughts too loud in your ear for anything else to make it past. You nervously tossed your hands back and forth as you approached the familiar gym, having to drag your feet along to your destination as if they were made of concrete trying to hold you in place.

Somehow you managed to make it to the open door, your eyes widening as you peer inside and see many more people than you’d expected, glancing around before you catch the gaze of the person you’d come to see. He’s midair when he sees you, his hand that’d raised to spike a ball dropping as he smiles and lands early. You don’t return the happy expression that usually sparked so much joy within you, instead you turn and quickly flee the overwhelming scene. It was all too much, you just wanted to come and talk to him but seeing how happy he looked and his friends turning to see you had easily spooked you off with your mind already going haywire.

“Bokuto, what was that?” Kuroo calls after his friend though he’s already following you out the door, “Who’s that?”

“His girlfriend.” Akaashi answers, picking up the ball he’d set and ducking under the net to stand next to the other boy.

“Didn’t look like it.” Tsukishima blinks, Kuroo punching him in the shoulder.

“She did look different.” Akaashi says, “And she ran away, it’s probably not anything good.”

“Does that mean that’s the end of practice?” Hinata asks, the other three turning to glare at him.

Outside Bokuto had caught up to you further down the lit pathways along the back of the gym, each heavy step of him jogging towards you making you want to sprint away.

“Hey, Y/n, slow down!” He calls out.

Reluctantly you stop though still keep your back to him, biting your lip as he walks in front of you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, you should go back to practice.” You say quietly, finding yourself unable to look him in the eye, “We can talk later.”

“They’ll be okay without me for a second, what did you wanna talk about?”

It hurts. It hurts to hear his positive tone and be in his warm and bubbly presence when you just felt so wrong. You knew you needed to do this, that you’d been keeping it to yourself far too long and lying to him wasn’t going to help anyone, but something in you was pulling you back and begging you not to be the reason that his trademark positivity diminishes. He was looking at you with sparkling loving eyes the same way he had since you’d met and instead of making you feel warm it only broke you even more.

“Y/n/n?” He asks, slight worry slipping into his voice as he reaches out for your hand. You take a step back and look down at the sidewalk, noticing him visibly droop at your rejection.

“I’m sorry Koutarou it’s just...” You start, having to stop to swallow the bump in your throat before continuing, “I can’t do this.”

“Huh? Babe, what do you-“

“Us. This isn’t working, and I know you know what I’m talking about. I think it’d be better for both of us if we just call it quits now.”

He stops, any light heartedness he’d carried before now gone and being replaced with a chilling atmosphere. His sudden change and knowing you were what was making him feel this way made the stinging in the back of your eyes worse, tears beginning to pool and slide down your cheeks.

“Is it because I missed our last date?” He asks, a sad and almost desperate tone to his voice, “I can make it up to you, we don’t have to break up.”

“No it’s not your fault Bo.” You say, your heart breaking when you look up and see his eyes shining with unshed tears, “I’m sorry.”

You pull the white oversized jacket off of your shoulders, the slightly chilled night air nipping at your exposed arms as you hand it to him. He takes it in a robotic movement, watching as you turn and practically run away from him, disappearing back towards the main building and leaving him standing alone.

What did he do wrong? Did he not give you enough attention, too much? Suffocate you with too much affection? Spend more time on volleyball than he did on you? What wrong path did he go down to have lost you along the way? He tried to work through your relationship in his head and figure out what happened but his thoughts are buzzing by too fast for him to focus on one. His fist clenched around his jacket in his hand as finally the first of many tears fell on to the fabric. Bokuto found himself unable to move, too frozen by your words to will his legs to move and unsure they’d be able to support him if he did.

“Bokuto? What happened?” Akaashi asks after walking out to find his friend as he’d been gone for so long.

“Y/n she’s... gone.”

-

The next day of the training camp Fukurodani only won one game when their star ace was benched, everyone taking notice to the mood Bokuto was stuck in that not even Akaashi could pull him out of. Word had traveled fast amongst the teams as to what had happened, the topic less gossip and more curiosity and then pity for him.

“Bokuto, you can’t sit around and sulk all day.” Kuroo says, lightly hitting a volleyball into his friends back.

He doesn’t react when the ball hits him, staying slouched after recovering from the hit.

“What did I do wrong?” Bokuto mumbles to himself, eyes focused on his palms in his lap.

“This could not have happened at a worse time.” Sarukui pants, joining his teammates where they stood after finishing the penalty lap. “It’s throwing everyone’s game off.”

“Do something Akaashi.” Konoha says, shoving the setter in the shoulder as he speaks.

“I’ve been trying since last night. The only way he’d get out of this is if they got back together.”

“Why’d she break up with him anyway? They seemed fine.”

“I haven’t asked, I think it’ll just make him worse.”

“We can chase down the girl after camp.” Kuroo suggests, the other boys turning to look at him, “I’m sure you know where to find her, Akaashi.”

He sighs, resting his hands on his hips. “I’ll go to her house later. Knowing Y/n if we all went she’d shut us out.”

“Two peas in a pod.”

“Get back inside for the next round of games!” A coach yells out, all of the players exclaiming a quick “yes sir!” Before walking through the open double-doors.

-

Even though you’d pulled into your driveway almost an hour ago you still sat in the drivers seat of your car, the radio playing quietly in the background as you sat with your head against the headrest. Your cheeks were stained with runny mascara and dried tears and though they’d finally stopped falling you were still left with the pit in your stomach that was threatening to consume you whole. You were glued to your seat, but even if your body allowed you to move you weren’t sure you would. It was all just empty, no matter what you did in the day, homework, spending time with friends, going shopping, nothing changed. Everything had gone dull without him.

A sudden knock on your window makes you jump, your heart skipping a beat when you turn to see a tall figure looming next to your car before you recognize them to be your friend. With a heavy sigh you drop your head back against the seat, lifting your hand and unlocking the car doors as you do so. Akaashi opens the passenger side door and sits down, silence enveloping you both as he takes in your broken down appearance.

“What do you want, Akaashi?” You ask, words quiet as you try and make sure your voice doesn’t waver.

He’s quiet a moment before he responds, taking in your appearance with an almost surprised expression. “What happened? Why’d you break up with Bokuto?”

“It was for him.” You sigh, feeling warm tears follow in the path of your old ones, “Things changed- it just seemed like it’d be better for him if we weren’t together anymore.”

“What’re you talking about? If anything he’s better with you.”

“I was holding him back from really being himself. Even without that we hardly saw each other and recently it’s like we’re more acquaintances than anything it was just... not what’s right for either of us.”

“Why can’t you just talk through it? He’s tearing himself up over this and none of us can get through to him, I’m starting to get worried.”

His words work another wedge into your heart as you flash back to the look he’d given you a few days prior.

“I’m sorry Akaashi.” You sniff, dragging a hand through your hair as you spoke, “I didn’t want to but I just couldn’t do that to him anymore. H-he’ll be okay eventually.”

“You and I both know that-“ He begins, voice slightly rising.

“Please leave.” You interrupt, his brow slightly raising in surprise, “I just can’t deal with this right n-now.”

He’s stiff for a moment before obliging, opening the door again and stepping out. He moves his hand to the outside of the car to shut the door again, turning away from you and beginning to take a step away.

“Akaashi wait.” You call out, the brunette stopping and looking at you expectingly, “Can you give him a hug for me?”

“You can do it yourself when you get back together.” He states before closing the door and walking down the driveway, leaving you alone feeling even worse than you did a few minutes prior.

What did he mean “when you get back together”? Hadn’t you made it obvious you thought it’d be best if you stayed apart? Sure it hurt, it felt like being stabbed in the heart every time you were reminded of him, but you just wanted what was best. He’d be happier without you even if he was sad for a few days - right?

-

“Bokuto.”

The captain doesn’t move at the sound of his name, his head still stuck under his blanket as he sat in the dark of his room.

“I talked to Y/n.”

This catches his attention as he peaks out of the fabric of his comforter and to his friend, a slight sliver of hope shining on his otherwise dim expression.

“What did she say?” He asks.

“That you’d grown apart, she did it to make you happier, and you’d be better without her.” Akaashi answers.

“What?!” Bokuto exclaims suddenly, catching the other boy by surprise as his mood does a complete 180, “Why would she think that, it’s-it’s-it’s just wrong! I need to go talk to her!”

“You should wait a little bit for that.” Akaashi replies, placing a hand on his friends shoulder to stop his dash for the door, “She’s not exactly in a talking mood.”

He frowns at this, his hair slightly drooping as if connected to his expression. He springs up again, an almost visible light bulb appearing above his head.

“I have an idea!”

-

“Kenma?” You call out as you walk into the gym, peering around the room for the setter. You check the texts where he asked for you to meet him here for a charger for his Switch to make sure you got the right place and time, even sending him another text though he doesn’t respond. Confused, you turn around to go back to your house wondering why he’d ask you and then not show.

“Wait, Y/n!”

You freeze when you hear his voice, your face falling when you realize he’s now standing in front of you.

“Sorry, I have to get home.” You whisper, moving to walk past him though your stopped by a gentle hand around your wrist.

“Can we talk please?” Bokuto asks.

If it were anyone else you’d already be gone. If it were anyone else, the pleasing tone in their voice wouldn’t be enough to keep you standing there. If it were anyone else you would’ve pulled your hand away already. But it wasn’t anyone else - it was Bokuto; the one person who you always found yourself unable to say no to.

You let out a sigh and remove your hand from his grip, standing a few feet distance between you as you waited for him to speak.

“I just don’t understand why.” He starts, “I know you told Akaashi it was for me but that just doesn’t make sense.”

“I... I noticed how stressed you seemed trying to balance everything with school, us, volleyball.” You respond, unable to bring yourself to look him in the eye, “And you tried to hide it but I could tell. We started drifting apart and we hardly saw each other I just... I just want you to be happy, Bo.”

“But I was happy with you.” He says, taking a small step forward, “There was a lot going on, but I have it all under control. I don’t think I can do it without you though; I need you Y/n.”

“I was just holding you back. This is for the best.”

“What?! You weren’t holding me back! If anything you’re helping!”

“But we were...”

“Hey, I’m sorry if I made you think you were just another problem.” Bokuto says, voice venturing into a more serious tone that finally makes you look up at him, “We can work this out together yeah? I think I’ll explode if I go another day without you.”

Your eyes look back and forth between his own and you feel a tear grow pregnant and slide down your cheek as he looked back at you with hopefulness and anticipation. His golden eyes that you’d fallen in love with shone with the reflected, intense fluorescent lights above and had a sparkle to them that you hadn’t seen in so long. You missed seeing him everyday and this aura of joy and excitement he carried around, the way he looked at you with such love and kindness. Was it possible to salvage your relationship? Could you find a way to balance everything out with each other?

You sat there for what felt like hours as he waited for your answer, tossing the ideas and options over in your head before you finally came to a result. You closed your eyes for a moment before opening them again with a small nod, watching as an infectious smile spread across his face from ear to ear. He’s quick to wrap you in a hug tight enough to squeeze all of the air out of your lungs and pick your feet off the ground but you don’t pay any mind, your arms going around his shoulders as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He spins you both in circle emitting a small giggle from you as you hug him tighter, only slightly pulling away when your feet are back on the ground. Almost as soon as you’d pulled your face away from his neck Bokuto catches your lips with his in a passionate kiss, both of you being forced to stop when your smiles get to wide.

“Wait!” He suddenly exclaims, pulling his arms away and shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders before eagerly placing it around yours. You melt into the fabric as your enveloped in his scent, slipping your arms through the sleeves with a content smile.

“Sleepover?” You ask, laughing when he quickly nods.

“That was almost too easy.” Kuroo says as he watches you and Bokuto walk out with your arms around each other. He rest his chin on the railing of the platform above the court, glancing sideways to where Akaashi and Kenma sat beside him.

“They can’t stay away from each other long enough to actually break up.” Akaashi sighs, pushing off from the railing he leaned on, “I wouldn’t be surprised if something like this happened again though.”

“They seem happy together.” Kenma comments before viciously pressing buttons on his phone.

“How would you know? You didn’t look up at all!” Kuroo exclaims, tapping the top of his friends device.

“Hey, I was paying attention.”

“Sure you were.”

[the-darklings]

—𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞;

⤫ pairing: johnny silverhand x corp!v(ermillion)

⤫ summary: Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them.

⤫ word count: 2.3k+

⤫ warnings: spoilers for act i & side mission the ballad of buck ravers, third person but can be read as RI ig, swearing, written in one sitting so who knows what the final result is - certainly not me. 

⤫ notes: let me leave my clown shoes outside.

It starts out the way it always does. 

One ring leads to another and she suddenly finds herself running or driving around the Night City with little to no rest, pulling one job after another. The more jobs she closes the more she seems to be in demand.

Good for business. Good for making a name for herself, too, but not so good on her overall being. 

She’s been running. Like a fucking coward. Filing her days with meaningless shit while trying desperately not to think about her ticking clock. About Jackie. 

Guilt gnaws on her bones daily. She should have done more, been better, more careful. Jackie never should have died. It was stupid and blind ambition that drove them both to try and pull this near impossible heist in the first place. Her own reckless drive has blinded her, and now the person closest to her in this fucking city is nothing more than a cold corpse. 

Fuck.

She should have sent him to his family instead. She only wanted to spare them from the grief of having to see Jackie in the state he was in but now Araska has his body and god knows what those assholes might be doing with it. 

And now…

Well she has nothing to lose, does she? She’s already dying, already hunted, her only close friend is dead. She promised to make him proud. Make it to the big leagues or make a league all on her own if that’s what it takes. Bleed this city dry if that’s the price to pay for what she wants. 

Back when she worked for Arasaka she wanted knowledge which led to power. Then she wanted guns and money and a roof over her head. 

Now she wants something more. After coming face to face with her own fragile morality, she has begun to realise how meaningless things like money and power are. Now she wants to surpass that. To become something immortal—something that will outlive her body. Maybe even outlive this city.  

Jackie should have been one of such people. 

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself,” a voice drawls from beside her, a crackle filling the air as a too familiar silhouette of a man appears in her sight. “Or cry.”

“Fuck off.”

V turns away from one Johnny Silverhand because it’s hard to look at him and not be reminded of the fact that she’s slowly dying and the construct only she can see and hear is the one doing the deed.

“This self-pitying bullshit needs to stop,” he says, ignoring her vicious words. “We share a brain, remember? I feel what you feel. It’s downright depressing in your head right now.”   

Her jaw clicks at the reminder. Everyday she wakes up and feels like they’re linked by a bridge—he stands on one side, and she on another. When they come closer, she can feel it—feel him. The overlap is near dizzying, overwhelming, even a little addictive. But it’s always followed by agony because she fights back, tries to shove him away. If not, he will consume her, but she will get him out of her head before that ever happens. 

You share a brain now, Vik had told her only days prior, his eyebrows knitted tight and—albeit subdued—but clear worry in his low voice, senses and memories, even perception. Eventually it will become impossible to tell whose who anymore. 

The worst thing is the fact that he’s right. 

She can feel Silverhand rooted inside her; a constant, a presence that is persistent to a point she knows she’s not alone even if she wishes to be. 

An echo of a being deep inside her.

“Then get the hell out,” she bites back, fighting to keep her temper leashed so she doesn’t burst out at him like she did at the diner. She can still remember the wary stares she received from the diners when she started shouting verbally at a figment only she could perceive in the first place. “I didn’t ask for a parasite to make himself home in my brain.”

Johnny scoffs under his breath, raising a cigarette to his mouth, and she’s nearly overcome with need to remind him that he’s fucking dead, and can’t smoke. That, and the fact that she would prefer him to leave her the fuck alone. 

“You did the job, didn’t ya? You sure you didn’t have this comin’?”

Flipping him off, she storms past him, her jaw clenched to appoint it aches and eyes narrowed. Just her luck not only to get stuck with a human tumour but for the said tumour to be a bastard to boot.  

So much for being buddies. 

Sun has set over Westbrook hours ago yet Chinatown is as busting with life as always. Overflowing with conversations all spoken in different languages, smells, distant gunshots, and people from all walks of life just trying to survive. Even during her years with the Arasaka, she never quite got used to the vastness of the Night City—not even when she was sure she was at the top. The way this city seems to breathe and fester day in and out; a living beast full of dangers and potential is unique. 

Lost in the crowd, it’s almost easy to forget who she is aside from another face in the said crowd. She’s not a merc, not an ex-corp working counterintelligence—she’s not anything. 

Her optics catch sight of several Tiger Claws lingering around the market, and she makes sure to give them a wide berth, especially when she notes the impressive list of their stats. She’s not stupid enough to attack outright when they outclass her—for now—and there are several of them around. With the market this busy the only outcome to that fight would be a bloodbath with police on her ass when that’s the last thing she needs right now. 

Despite that logical part inside her steering her well clear of the gang members the need to blow off some steam bubbles under her skin. An ache starts to form against her temple soon after, making her focus blur around the edges as she wanders from vendor to vendor aimlessly. 

“Hey, V,” a rumble of a voice cuts through her thoughts—and she hates how she can’t quite ignore his voice unlike everyone else—and turns her head in the direction of the call. She had foolishly assumed he was going to give her some peace of mind for tonight at least. “Check this guy out.”

Walking up a dimly lit staircase, she had barely noticed a man sitting on a rickety chair and playing a guitar. Much like her, others walk right past him, ignoring the man altogether. 

Johnny glimmers into sight, squatting in place and oddly intent on observing the old man while he plays.   

She entertains the idea of walking away simply to piss him off. If something is of interest to him, then she wants to ignore it so hard it gets under his nonexistent skin. Petty, perhaps, but ever so satisfying. 

Hearing no reply or receiving much reaction at all, Johnny slants his head her way, nodding once towards the man, “What do you think?”

Squinting, she drags her gaze towards the guitarist, crossing her arms over her chest while she listens. She’s not even sure why she’s bothering but…

The melody is slow, near drowned out by the bustling sounds of the nearby market and chatter of people walking past. 

“He’s...fine?” she offers lamely. “I mean he’s pretty good.”

A slight smirk crosses over Johnny’s mouth—gone in a blink but the focus he places on the man who seems to be unaware of her or the silent second spectator surprises her. 

“Loses tempo more than he keeps it,” he comments, almost absently, and she feels her eyebrows arch in another show of bewilderment. A quiet spells falls over their little nook, and Johnny listens more, thoughts rolling inside his head if his body language is any sign. “Sloppy on the technique but he has feeling in the way he plays. Can’t teach that.”

“If only you didn’t die,” she sighs softly, closing her eyes in mock sympathy. “This could have been you.”

He surprises her again by laughing at that. It’s a deep rumble of a sound, and she can almost feel it echo between them and their mental bridge. “You’re kinda of a bitch. Has anyone told you that before?”

Her teeth flash in the dim orange glow of the neon lights. “And you’re sort of a dick. Anyone tell you that before?” she wonders with a charming, practiced smile. 

He flickers out of sight and she’s about to call it a mental victory but a tickle of electricity kisses across the bare curve of her shoulder and neck, and she shivers when he appears beside her. His arms are crossed as well, and he glances her way briefly.

“Seems to me like we’re two peas in a fuckin’ pot, then,” he points out easily, and shakes his head, seemingly amused by his own words. “I might have tried to kill you a few weeks ago but look at us being chummy, Ver.”

Her throat closes up at that, expression tightening. He notices of course. Or maybe it’s the unease that slices through her mind at the casual way he uses her nickname. 

“What? Am I not allowed to call you that or somethin’?” he wonders curiously, seemingly entertained by her reaction. Asshole. 

“Only my friends call me Ver.”

Jackie was the first. 

That thought makes her swallow painfully, a dull ache clawing against her heart. One would think that years being a corpo would have wiped whatever humanity still lived in her but Jackie’s death had been a stark reminder that she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.  

“Why?”

She gives him a flat look. “Because my full name is Vermillion, but people tend to find it a mouthful so…”

“Vermillion,” he repeats, his intonation dry, and she shoots him a quick glare, daring him to make an issue of it. Naturally, his next words don’t surprise her, “That’s a stupid fuckin’ name.”

“Oh, because Johnny Silverhand is so much better.”

She expects him to say something snarky in return, argue maybe, but he only snorts. His metal hand lifts, pushing his aviators down slightly as he glances at her over them.

“You got me there.” 

Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them. Shadows and life of the Night City holding them both suspended in this moment. No arguments or biting comments. No guilt, either. 

A slight smile tugs across her mouth as she continues listening to the man play his downbeat little tune. Her shoulders loosen, drooping slightly and she lets herself breathe for a moment. Just the one. 

“Used to be just like him,” Johnny speaks up suddenly, his voice more subdued, lower, and taps his fingers against the cigarette he’s holding. “But better. Used to play everywhere we could. Garages, bars. Anywhere that would have us, and we always had an audience.”

She hums, offering him a brief glance. “You mean you were actually good?”

She can’t see his eyes in the darkness of the street or through his tinted shades. But despite that, she can still feel his glare and the mental bite of chagrin/irritation/why is she so annoying? and deeper than that a spark of amusement/little shit thinks she’s funny. 

“What’s this?” he muses, his words sarcastic. “A corpo rat that actually has a sense of humour? Colour me surprised.”

“No can do,” she shoots back promptly, fighting back a wider grin. “You’re too dead for that.”

He tsks, throwing his cigarette to the ground and she almost rolls her eyes. “Can’t wait to be out of your damn head, princess.” 

“Can’t wait to be rid of you, either, so the feeling is mutual.”

Their words might be stringent but she can almost taste the faint amusement trickling between them and under that bridge that connects them. 

“There might still be some bootlegs of those old days,” he muses thoughtfully. “People used to record everything back in my day.”

She drags her gaze his way, lips thinning into a firm line, “I’m not becoming a fan, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Afraid you’ll hear real music and won’t be able to go back to this modern garbage I hear everywhere?”

There is challenge in his words and she bristles. Maybe this is what she needs. She may not be able to put holes in some Tiger Claws with her sniper rifle but she sure as hell can go on a scavenger hunt and see what she finds. 

Besides, it might help her to understand the man nested inside her mind a little better.

So when an hour later the old, wrinkly vendor asks her why he should give her his oldest, most precious Samurai vinyl, she tells him the truth. 

A twisted truth. 

But truth all the same.

“He’s with me every step I take, every move I make,” she confesses softly, something deep down breathing awake at that admittance. “Johnny’s like my conscience. My eternal, infernal moral compass.”  

She doesn’t miss how the man in question doesn’t appear, doesn’t say anything even after hearing that. She would have figured he would be the first in line to offer her some mocking, snarky comment but there is only silence. 

In fact, she can barely feel him at all. The tether between them is still and quiet. 

And his silence says a lot more than he probably realises. 

.

an: hello. guess whose not dead and kinda back to writing. dunno how much of cp77 you should expect because coa is still my priority but maybe occasional fic for these dumbos is on the cards. oh, and takemura because cdpr are cowards for not giving us that enemies to friends/partners to lovers romance. also I know this isn’t strictly RI and I honestly considered writing it as such but saw...no point? since the premise still would have been the same, so something a little different today ig. 

[my-simp-land]

Orange Blossom Kisses

more domestic fluff because that's all I dream about. Bucky x reader. 1747 words. again, i didn't do any profreading so...happy reading!

Fridays are reserved for baking. Ever since I moved into the compound, I’ve trashed my(Stark’s) kitchen making delicious cakes, pies, pastries, you name it. Each week I try to make something for someone, but I don't tell them it’s for them. Kinda like gift giving. This week, I’ve been pestering Steve about things Bucky may like. I think he knows I’m trying to get recipe ideas out of him, so he’s made it quite difficult.

“Cakes? From the old days? Oooooh, I don’t know. It’s been so long ago. You said yourself I’m an old geezer. My memory isn’t as good as it used to be.”

“What’d ya say? I can’t hear ya. These ears aren’t as good as they used to be.”

“Oh I don’t remember any pie recipes. I was but a wee lad and didn’t pay attention to the kitchen.”

Thankfully, I got Sam to work as my spy in exchange for an apple pie. Steve had told him about the orange blossom cookies Bucky’s mother would make. Usually Steve and Bucky were joined at the hip, but on orange blossom days, Bucky and Becca would stick to their mother’s side. Steve would usually hang around and enjoy the fresh orange smell. I used a couple favors to track down an old fashioned orange blossom cookie recipe. I changed it up to fit Bucky’s description of a good cookie (don’t worry; he can be pretty critical.)

“Damn hothead. The whole building smells like an orange. What are you making?” Tony asked. He funded my Friday

baking extravaganza as long as he got his ‘blueberry stuff.’

“I’m making orange blossom cookies, Tony. Orange. Blossom. The kitchen is sticky, so I couldn't come any closer.”

“The kitchen? The whole thing? How did you manage to get orange juice everywhere?”

“I’m the one baking. What did you expe- oh hey guys. Y’all are back early. What are you doing here so early?”

Steve, Sam, and Bucky shuffled their soaking wet bodies onto the dining room rug. “Rain. Apparently, the weather station is as bad as it was in the 40s.”

Tony switches his concern from the sticky kitchen to the soaked rug, but Bucky steps into the kitchen.

“Whatcha makin, doll?”

“Uh, just some cookies. Go get dried off and you can help me if you want.”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” Bucky hurries down the hall. His heavy steps down the hall gives Steve enough cover to slip into the kitchen behind me.

“Bucky loves orange blossom cookies. It was one of the only things that could separate us. I know you’re good at guessing, but how did you end up hitting the nail on the head?”

I could only smile. Steve was a smart guy, but he could get pretty boy syndrome sometimes.

“A little red bird happened to mention something to me. A few favors later and I was presented with the finest orange blossom cookie recipe in the Northeast.”

“I see. I guess I should’ve known the master baker could get whatever they want with the promise of a home baked pie or honey butter croissants. I’ll keep that in mind next time you need something. I’ll see you two around.”

With Steve’s departure, Bucky slides right next to me, hip to hip. He’s only wearing some classic grey sweatpants and the tee shirt I embroidered a chibi Bucky onto. His hair is pulled back into a bun, still dripping water onto the nape of his neck. At this distance, I can admire Bucky’s baby blue eyes and his 5 o’clock shadow. Once Bucky got back from Wakanda, he cut his hair short and shaved his beard, but recently, he’s been working towards the white wolf look.

“Alright, doll. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Oh okay. Uh, I’ve got all the ingredients prepared for baking. Let me check the recipe.” I go to grab the sheet of notebook paper that I scribbled the recipe down on, but Bucky gets to it before I do. He studies the paper hard. His brows scrunch together and his lip between his teeth. His metal arm falls around me and brings us shoulder to shoulder. At this proximity I can tell Bucky spritzed a little cologne on. The refreshing smell of pine and eucalyptus cuts through the overwhelming smell of oranges.

“This recipe is shit. What if I told you I know a better one?”

“Oh um well then I’d say take the lead. I hope I’ve got everything you need.”

“You’re everything I need sugar, but this stuff should be good.”

I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks. “Let's start by making the wet mix and then we’ll slowly add the dry ingredients in.”

Baking with Bucky is a dangerous game. We work well in the kitchen, but Bucky’s hands tend to wander. Resting on my lower back, brushing my thigh, standing close enough that I could feel his warm breath on my neck. By this point, my face is flush enough to cook these cookies, but the cookies are already in the oven. Maybe next time.

“Lookin’ beautiful, dollface. The cookies are looking pretty good too. They gotta rest a bit. We can work on the glaze now.”

Oh god. Things got saucy with the glaze. Not only did Bucky wiggle his eyebrows and point to the glaze in an inappropriate manner, but he was very handsy. We basically recreated that one dirty dancing scene with the kitchenaid. It didn’t help that Tony walked into the kitchen halfway through our romantic mixing. He had quite a lot to say: tinman and hothead, the cold and the hot, opposites attracting. You get the bit.

“Doll, I think this is the best glaze I’ve ever seen. We make quite the pair.”

“I’d have to agree with you there. I wonder what else we could get into.”

I realize what I said too late. His eyes grow wide and his smirk stretches from cheek to cheek. “Is that so, doll? I would love to work with you some more. Cooking dinner, dodgeball, go karts. Maybe some f-”

“Aren’t you supposed to be best friends with Steve? Like two peas in a pod? I wouldn’t want to upset Steve. That just doesn’t seem right. A disrespect to America. America’s ass, you know? A disrespect.”

That shuts him up.

“You look at Steve’s ass?”

“Well, yes. I mean no! I don’t look. I mean it’s a nice butt, you have to agree, but I wouldn’t know since I don’t look. I do not look at Steve’s ass.”

“Oooooo. You look at Steve’s ass. No wonder you zone out during meetings so much. All that cake bouncing around. Is that why you bake? Trying to recreate that dump truck? Do you look at other people’s ass? Do you look at my ass?”

“Bucky! I- I just know a good ass when I see one okay?”

“Well, what about my ass? Whose is better: mine or Sam’s? I know you’ve looked.”

Christ on a cracker this man is gonna kill me. “Bucky, y’all both have nice asses okay. Steve has the ass. You have the thighs. Sam has the pecs. It's as simple as that, okay? Why don’t we invite everyone down to try these cookies”

“Whatever you say, angel.”

Once everyone made it to the kitchen, we fixed everything up nice and served them to the rest of the family. They were an overall hit. Tony loved them because he’s a hardass, but Rhodes would’ve liked them just a bit softer. Thor enjoyed them with milk. Natasha made quite a few comments about how silky smooth the glaze was and how it complimented the cookie perfectly.

Once everyone was served and sent on their way, Bucky and I sat down to try our creation. I set our plates and meet Bucky in the common room. We cuddled up hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder in the common room to enjoy our cookies and begin a movie.

“You know, my mother used to make orange blossom cookies when I was young.” I looked up to Bucky’s face. I could see all the emotions. Pain. Happiness. Nostalgia. “My sister and I would always help her cook them. It was damn near impossible to come by an orange back in the day so sometimes we’d use other citruses. Orange was always the best. There was one time Becca had gotten some flowers from a sailor visiting from down south. The flowers were damn near dead when she brought them home. My pa told her that they would eat the flowers on their journey, so she did what she could to stick the flowers in the glaze and make pretty cookies. I wish I could remember what the flowers were.”

“I’m sorry Buck. I wish I could help.”

“No, no. I should say thank you. Coming in and smelling the orange and you telling me what you were making awoken something in me. At first, I was upset because I never got to make those cookies with my mom and sister again, but I’m glad I go the opportunity to make such sweet memories with you.” My breath was caught in my throat. I could feel the tears in my eyes and could just see the reflection of some in his. “She would’ve loved you. So strong, don’t take any shit, but so soft and gentle. You could keep me straight and make me bake cookies with you. Becca would’ve picked at you a bit to see if you’d hold, but she would’ve made you her sister quicker than I could’ve married you.”

“You want to marry me?”

“Well, doll, I love you. I’d love to spend a future together with you, but I think I should ask you to be my girl first. But I don't want you to feel pressured. Or you might like Steve or Sam or someone else. I don’t know. I don’t want to assume. You-”

I don’t you what came over me, but his lips were so sweet. They were sugary sweet from the cookie glaze, but the tartness of the orange made it refreshing. His lips felt so soft against mine; I never wanted this kiss to end.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“I’ll be your girl. Only if you’ll have me.”

His smile took over his face. His lips were stretched thin and wrinkles fell beside his eyes.

“My girl. My best girl.”

[riverdale-retread]

Riverdale S5 E12 (Jaime/Hiram) - 5 Things I loved/ 3 Things to consider

5 Things I loved

1. The music selections for the Jaime to Hiram transitions were delirious and filled me with joy.  I admit up front I’ve never heard any of these songs before, so if they turn out to be a horrible kind of misappropriation or desecration or something I will feel bad. In any case - Riverdale commits to giving you a dose of the surreal every episode.  The difficulty with doing that in this episode is that  the stories being told in it are unusually straightforward, even staid, for  Riverdale.  So they went to town with the sound track.   

There’s a song  (Demolicion by the band Narco) that sounds like it’s being sung by the Tasmanian Devil from Looney Toons on a bender - it’s just rawararwrarawrar. All these songs about Hiram ‘being bad’ and mentioning the ‘devil’ are so on the nose that the nose gets broken and pushed right into the skull (the title of the song is literally Devil Devil).

2.  I love that Hermione Gomez wears huge 80s glasses that completely overwhelm her little face and yet Jaime hits on her and thinks the world of her.  It helps to have that face, I grant you, but as someone who took the Dorothy Parker quote, Men seldom make passes at girls who wear glasses, very very personally back in the day, I LOVE that Jaime/Hiram has no such qualms.  Did everyone notice the bust of Nefertiti that’s positioned right behind Hermione the whole time Hiram is successfully asking her out? I did and it cracked me up.

3. I loved that nothing in this story about Jaime Luna makes Hiram Lodge even a little bit sympathetic to me.  Hiram is an out and out villain, and I love that.  I’ve been sick of villain backstory narratives that are like, Bad Things Happened To This Man So We Must Identify With His Homicidal Impulses that keep coming out, but this episode didn’t do that.

a) Hiram is in so many ways a textbook abusive husband, and the only thing that distinguishes him from the more stereotypical abuser is that he doesn’t actually punch his victim (he just shoots at her using other people’s guns).  Abusers blame their victims for ‘causing’ them to commit abuse.   The same is true here. The story that Hiram tells Reggie about his life pretends to be about his father, but is actually all about the fact that it’s Hermione’s fault that he’s a gangster.  She’s the one who likes the fancy clothes and the fancy car, the one who names him Hiram Lodge,  the one who is turned on by Hiram working for gangsters, the one that goes to the gangsters (rather than his father or her mother or any other adult) to get Hiram out of jail.   It’s all her fault and she owes him.  This is in addition to his usual, You’re my wife and I own you.

I am right back to being very worried about Hermione.

b) Hiram pretends to be giving ‘life advice’ about fathers and sons to Reggie.  Hiram has direct knowledge that Marty Mantle is a piece of shit, and that Reggie has a very trouble relationship with him, and that Marty absolutely does not respect Reggie at all whatsoever (“Reggie is a fool.”)   Hiram uses Reggie and then ditches him when he’s done.   Hiram makes Reggie an accessory to murder, which nets nobody anything at this point other than Hiram’s own blood lust - and possibly tying up loose ends because Vito is someone who can correct this yarn that Hiram is spinning about his origin - then breaks his heart.  Marty Mantle is not only a dad who beat his son - he’s a dad that does not ask his son “Where did you get the money” when the son pays off a huge debt to a known criminal, and is only relieved that he’s no longer on the hook.  He also tellingly asks Reggie, “That’s what you got from my story?” indicating that this is a story rather than a testimony. 

4. I loved the very anti-straight men commentary the show keeps sneaking in.  Like, straight marriage is the worst, especially the ones that produce biological offspring, according to Riverdale.  Marty Mantle absolutely despises sex. He’s a guy who sells sexy cars to other guys for a living, and yet he hates talking about getting laid in one. He hates his beautiful sensual son, too, for being sexually successful and comfortable in his body. Both Reggie (described by the gay-bi Fangs as “very straight” even after kissing him) and Hiram (who is basically a Hermione-sexual at this point) have comically fetishistic relationships with cars and shoes, lovingly wiping down these objects at the start of each day.  All the straight men say the word “shame” several times -I’m ashamed of you/ I feel shame/ so ashamed/ shame.

5. I continue to adore “I am not in high school any more” Reggie Mantle.  Growing up to be a slightly sleazy car salesman is the one of the few character developments for Grown Riverdale that both makes sense and isn’t depressing.  Core Four, Cheryl and Polly are all extremely depressing and supportable with logic.  Toni and Fangs make out OK but they were also underdeveloped in the first four seasons. (I am too upset to talk about Sweet Pea).  I was moved by his tearing up while very quietly confronting his father, and I was moved by his boyish attempt at trying to show his new boss that he’s not just the muscle.  Oh and he’s so beautiful, did I say that already?  There’s so much face in Reggie’s face - strong brows, deep set eyes, those cheekbones, that jawline, that MOUTH. 

Three Things to Think About

a. Why is Jughead narrating this?   Jughead is unusually wrong about a lot of things in his opening narration, and I assume this is intentional.  Jughead seems to use the words hero and protagonist interchangeably, and also I guess hasn’t seen Joker because most villains and antiheros also always get their origin stories too. (There’s a theory that what we’re watching is the Betty Cooper serial killer origin story, for example).   Has Jughead not watched “Citizen Kane” because he asks “What is his rosebud?” about Hiram,  BUT WE ARE NOT TOLD.   Jughead sounds jealous of Reggie, frankly, and he’s wrong when he says Hiram collects lost souls.  What OTHER lost souls does Hiram have near him?   And who the heck is S5 Jughead Jones calling LOST?

b. What Reggie really wants to do - and possibly also Hiram - is to wear a suit and carry a briefcase.   It’s just very White Collar Aspirant that isn’t fully explored. Like, how the 50 shades of grey movie was really about sitting in a board room negotiating a contract and having pretty women in suits bring you tea -  that was the erotic highlight of that movie.   We live in capitalism, so getting to use the accoutrement of the Wall St capitalist is the true fantasy.

c.  The point of this episode that the show is making to the viewer is this: A straightforward narrative, where gangsters act like gangsters, and fathers and sons have realistic misunderstandings and conflicts, is something we’re capable of doing.  We just don’t want to. 

[beelspillowpet]

could i get some hcs of the brothers (how many is up to you!!) with an epileptic MC? like, they end up having absence and myoclonic seizures, and maybe hurt themselves a bit? sorry if this is too specific adjkd it just happened to me this morning and. i accidentally flung my spoon across the room while eating cereal 🙈 i also stabbed myself in the eye with my thumb but Eh

OMG Anon!!! I hope you’re okay!? Seizures are really serious and dangerous, I hope you’re recovering alright?! Sending you a bunch of hugs and head pats u-u In other somewhat unrelated news, I’m glad people are so comfortable coming to me with these sorts of HCs. Means I really am doing an impactful job in my research and writing these sorts of things comfort you. It also helps me learn a little more about people's everyday struggles. Here’s to hoping for a bright future for you all!

I tried to include more symptoms and types of seizures (?) in this post, but I don’t think I was able to touch on them all? Usually when I do HCs like this, I have something like an “interview” with the asker beforehand to make sure I’m getting their experience probably, and a better understanding of the disorders. I hope this is portrayed properly!!! ~

Lucifer

He’s lecturing you, but pauses for a moment to question your reasoning for making pacts with his brothers. He’s expecting you to answer, but you don’t. You simply daze off at him. You weren’t trying to piss him off, but you weren’t all there in the moment. Your hands twitched and your hand accidently shot up behind you, as if you were pulling your hand away from a snapping dog. He took that as a warning.

The second time it occurred was over dinner. It was just you and him, enjoying the meal you prepared for dinner and waited for him to arrive home for it. You had another epileptic seizure, and spaced out for longer than normal.

When you came to, Lucifer was out of his chair at your side, checking to make sure you were alright. He was a bit rattled to say the least, but when he waved his hand in front of your eyes and they followed, he started to relax a bit more. He questioned what just happened, but with the slot of time missing in your brain, you couldn’t completely answer him.

It’s when you start jerking your body about uncontrollably, as if something is possessing you to behave in such a manner than he finally looks into it. Admittedly, he should have done so sooner, this isn’t normal behavior after all. What he discovers is a bit upsetting, as there’s no “cure” or “fix” for it. He doesn’t bring it up to you- you’re probably sensitive about the topic. But he’s far more patient with you now, knowing that these seizures are just a part of your life.

Mammon

Oh what the fuck was that? Are ya’ good? You just kinda... slapped the fuck out of yourself there? Why’d you do that?

This pea-brain probably doesn’t pick up on too many symptoms at first. You’re just his weird, hopeless human. While that’s nice, a little more attention would be grateful.

“Hey Mammon, when did you dye your hair yellow?” “What’re ya talkin’ about? My hair is white.” “Huh, in this light it looks yellow. And did you get a tan?” He thinks you’re weird but it’s okay. It sort of offends you that he thinks this way, it’s not like you’re doing this on purpose. You genuinely thought he dyed his hair yellow- and that he darkened his skin.

There are also times when he uses the same cologne but something smells different about it. The whiplash of suddenly having one smell and then be overwhelmed by something entirely different, or have this random dizziness... well, at least Mammon is always there to catch you if you lose your balance. As much of an airhead as he is, he’s still a helpful and supportive one.

Leviathan

Your seizures scare the shit out of them. You have the worst ones with him because while in his room, the bright flashing lights are somehow worse. Brighter, even more than before, and before you know it you’re having an out of body experience, feeling your body twitch and tremor, but unable to stop it.

You can hear Leviathan freaking out in the distance, making sure you lay down flat and keep you from swallowing your own tongue. Despite having a panic attack after the fact, he’s relatively calm for the most part. He doesn’t have any real knowledge on these things yet, and he’s not sure if he’s prepared for it.

Other times you may just pace the floor as if thinking. You’re constantly rubbing your hands together, looking left and right erratically. Sometimes when you do this, you’re muttering nonsense, and other times, you’re silent. Leviathan isn’t sure which one is scarier.

He does research on why you behave this way sometimes. You don’t have them too often, but it’s happened at least three times and it’s scared him each time. When he discovers his solution, he tries to bring it up with you in a calm and quiet manner. Either that or he waits until next time because bringing it up unprompted can be awkward.

Satan

Oh. He knows what’s going on. He’s got doctor friends. He sort of just... asks. Just to be sure. Whether you tell him or not, he knows what’s really going on here. He won’t judge. Obviously not. You can’t control your behavior with those sorts of things.

He’s aware that seizures can kick up anywhere, so he watches you carefully. You could have one while walking down the steps and end up falling and hurting yourself. You could get one while preparing dinner and accidently stab yourself- or you can even get one while driving. He’s always prepared to take over for you when you need it.

There was one time you finally did come to him. To confide in him about your problems. It was silly, you thought. Why would he listen? Except he set aside his book, turned in his chair to you, and listened. He never interrupted, and only spoke when you were taking a moment to breathe through your tears.

He was there for you, and he would never try to upset you. He knows how scary these sorts of things can be. While he doesn’t struggle with the same issues, having depressive episodes are not lost on him. He would gladly welcome you into his arms for a hug, and make sure you’re at least safe in these awful times.

Asmodeus

You and Asmo were at the club when it happened. You’re dancing with each other one moment, and the next you’re on the floor convulsing. You were embarrassed once it was all over, but imagine how terrified Asmo was???

You come back to yourself still on the dirty floor of the club, but now people are surrounding you, all concerned. You see Asmodeus crying, not knowing what to do. He’s panicked, and he’s gently holding your hand, hoping you’re okay.

You two leave the club early, and in your guilt, explain to him what happened. Although you’re vague because you aren’t entirely sure of the details, he puts together enough to know it won’t be the last time that happens.

he clings to you afterwards, and doesn’t let go. Even if you involuntarily jerk and hit him by accident. He knows. He understands and he loves you, darling. You would never want to push him away, and he would never want you to go. Next time, he WILL do better for you.

Beelzebub

You two were playing sports together when he accidently tackled you too hard. You fell over and hit your head hard, causing you to fall into a shock-induced seizure.

He kneels there by your side crying. He knows what to do but every time he touches you, you jerk violently. As if you’re afraid of his touch, afraid of him making things worse. Still, he does his best to assist you, making sure you don’t swallow your tongue and that you don’t harm yourself any further.

Once it’s all over, he carries you to the benches and gives you food and water. He’s still crying a bit, not sure what he should do now. He probably calls Lucifer for help, and while waiting, just talks to you. Makes sure you’re still all there.

When he’s alone, he does a bit more research on seizures and comes across epilepsy. After going over what can cause the seizures, he’s riddled with even more guilt. You hit your head when he tackled you. He probably caused that seizure, didn’t he? From then on, he refuses to play sports with you. He could never forgive himself for putting you through that.

Belphegor

Of course it was a nap. What else would it be? You wake him up on accident when you kick your leg out too hard, knocking him off the bed. When he gets up to yell at you for doing that, he notices you aren’t really paying much attention to him. Instead you’re twitching your arms and legs, grunting and groaning at the pain in your limbs when you slap against the bedpost.

You’re blinking rapidly and your lips are moving, as if you’re trying to ask him for help. All that manages to come out is something similar to your lips smacking. Like Beel when he’s taste testing his dinner.

Once the seizure is over, Belphie is sitting you up slowly, petting your hand. He brings you into a hug as  you tremble in his arms, whispering that its okay and that he’s here now.

He’d never experienced something so... unsettling in his life. He wonders if humans do this sometimes. Sometimes after... traumatic experiences. He cringes at the thought. Could he have caused this unintentionally? He didn’t think that the one time he snapped, he would leave you with irreversible damage. He tries to be diligent in helping you from there on, doing his thorough research and making sure you are taken care of in all ways possible should these continue, or get worse. To him, it’s more than a reason to redeem himself, it’s just doing what’s right.

[yewwoistaken]

Your Souda dating headcanon’s were really good, I’d love to see more of those with him! Perfect length too btw,, maybe something like that with Nagito or Hajime if that’s something you’re comfortable with

I think this was a lil harder only because Souda is really my favorite ^^; but I still tried my best! I'm trying to make it a *realistic* dating imagine rather than making it 100% based on all the characters' goofy personas in the game. That being said, I hope you like it, BUT if you DO want the extreme goofiness I think would happen with their intense goofy personas, let me know lol.

Nagito Komaeda (and dating him i guess)

Imagine the amount of support in this relationship

Nagito has clear self-loathing and insecurity problems

You try to help him gain some type of self worth

You encourage choosing restaurants based on how you BOTH feel about it

Rather than just because he knows you like it

At first, he doesn't really believe your methods work

He's mostly too overwhelmed by happiness due to the hope you carry of finding him a purpose

What he doesn't see coming is your plan actually working.

Because ever since the two of you got together, he finds himself happier and luckier than he has ever been.

He even starts to bully himself noticeably less than he used to.

Imagine how Nagito helps you feel better.

He holds you and reminds you of how amazing you are.

He tells you how he'll "carry enough hope" for the both of you if he has to.

Hes the type of person to let you rant your problems rather than trying to find an immediate solution.

Imagine the type of weird date ideas you both have

One of your favorites is cooking at home

It starts with you choosing a random recipe neither of you have never heard of.

The two of you then make a bet

The bet is to see if through Nagito's pure luck, the two of you can make a dish without fully looking at the book.

Nagito believes in his luck until the bitter end, however he always bets that it'll go south.

He only does this so he can see you have hope in his own luck

Evil Bitch lol

And with that, the adventure always ends in either success, or the usage of the fire extinguisher you keep on standby.

Nagito lovesss bragging about you

He literally finds himself mentioning how amazing you are on accident in random conversations

"I mean, Y/N is so cute when they're scared. They get mad at me for laughing at their cuteness...which only makes it even more cute!"

...

"...we only wanted to know if you knew the movie theatre we agreed to go to this weekend.."

If he ever feels like he did something to make you upset he talks to Fuyuhiko, Souda and Hajime about it.

Its mostly just him talking and them being extremely confused.

But it always finishes with him feeling better and thanking them.

Imagine how well this man cuddles

Big spoon and Little spoon alternate

But either way, cuddling always ends with the two of you facing eachother

Hes not usually the one to make the first move

But the longer you two are together the braver he gets

Imagine him just giving you a sleepy, sweet kiss before sleeping either in your arms or with you in his arms.

I'm definitely not as proud of this one ^^; but i do hope it was somewhat enjoyable for you! Its a bit hard imagining a good and healthy relationship for him. I love him but sometimes i feel like other interpretations show pretty unhealthy relationship habits. But what do I know im pea brain lmao. I also just have "eh" writing skills lol. Anyways, I hope it was to your liking ^^

[talkfastromance4]

piece o’cake-- poly!cake blurb

a/n: SO! this is the first time writing for poly!cake...I’ve tested the waters with poly!lashton and loved it so this dynamic is a little different for me. Let me know what you think :)

word count: 1.3k

warnings: small smut scene, rest is fluffy and kinda domestic, uses she/her pronouns

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

• • • •

She’s woken to soft kisses on her cheeks from warm pillowy lips while another set are kissing her hair, each one rousing her gently awake. This is still so new to all of them, this dynamic of being together, the three of them. Calum and Luke know the little things about each other but with her, it’s something new and exciting every day.

The first time they woke up together, Calum and Luke were being their usual loud selves. Their voices echoed from the bathroom while they utilized the facilities, laughter booming into her ears and the clatter of toothbrushes made her beautiful dream turn to a hellish nightmare really quick.

Annoyed, irritated, aggravated, and every other synonym to having her sleep disrupted, she tossed back the comforter in a huff and stomped her way to the bathroom door.

“Can you please be quieter?” she hissed, wide blue eyes darting between the two boyfriends.

“Uhh…”

“Were we really being that loud?” Calum asks. His sheepish expression eases her a little bit, but only a fraction.

“Yes,” she gritted her teeth then spun on her heel.

They watched her fall back into bed, throwing the blanket over her and she was still once again. Luke and Calum made sure to be quiet after that and apologized profusely when she officially woke up to coffee and toast that was made by them.

“It’s time to wake up, lovie,” Luke says in her ear, it tickles her skin, and she shrinks against Calum’s chest.

“Ten more minutes,” she groans.

Both their hands land on her thigh and waist, their palms are warm as they make circles on her skin, soft chuckles trickle out.

“We don’t have ten more minutes, cupcake. We’ve got a long day of relaxation planned ahead,” Calum pecks her lips quickly, but the slight poke of his tongue awakens her a bit.

“Sleep is relaxation.”

“You’ve been looking forward to our mani-pedi-massage day all week,” Luke kisses her shoulder.

She sighs and opens her eyes to be staring at the tattoos inked on Calum’s chest. Their hands continue to rub her skin with a few squeezes to her flesh with Calum’s thumb inching closer to between her thighs.

“Will we get to nap?”

“After the massage we can,” Luke smiles against her shoulder. His fingers squeeze at her ass cheek.

“Doesn’t seem like you guys want to get out of bed yet, either” she smiles craning her head so she can kiss Luke’s soft lips behind her. The turn made her legs open just enough so Calum can cup her sex with his palm, his thumb rubs at her through her underwear.

“This is the best way to get you out of bed, sweetheart,” Calum hums shifting her panties to the side. His finger teases between her folds, she gasps, and grabs hold of Luke’s curls.

“If Cal makes you cum, will you get out of bed?” Luke whispers against her lips.

She nods letting out a squeak for a yes, her lips chasing Luke’s.

“Give it to her, Cal,” Luke hums slipping his tongue in her mouth just as Calum inserts his finger.

She rests her leg open on Luke’s as Calum fingers her, his own mouth on her neck. He’s sucking and biting, his finger curling and rubbing against her spongy wall.

“Always so wet in the morning,” Calum murmurs on her skin and she moans at the tickling pleasure.

“Is Cal making you feel good, lovie?” Luke asks and she nods. “Yeah? Tell us how good.”

“So…so good,” she sighs tilting her hips with Calum’s motions. He’s using his whole arm as he fingers her, Luke hums and she feels herself slipping.

“There it is…come on baby, come for us,” Calum says, and she feels her orgasm burst forth.

When she moans, Luke and Calum press their lips to her skin until her body relaxes once more. They continue to pepper her in kisses until Calum removes his finger and sucks on it.

“Mmm, want a taste, Luke?” Calum asks.

She watches through heavy lids as Calum holds his hand out to Luke. He grins, shoots her a wink then wraps his lips around Calum’s middle finger. It disappears in his mouth as he sucks off her juices. She gets overwhelmed from the sight before her. How do they expect her to leave this bed now?

They meet in the middle to share a kiss, their tongues rolling over one another’s and she leans up to join in the fun. They both pull away before she can and she’s pouting at them while they share a smile.

“He made you cum, now it’s time to get out of bed, princess,” Luke sighs grabbing his clothes.

“Come on, pouty baby,” Calum grins and snags her ankles in his hands. He pulls her down the bed until her feet hit the fuzzy carpet. He pulls her up into a standing position, his arms wrap around her waist. “There’ll be more later.”

“Promise?” she asks, lip still pouting.

“We promise,” he gives her a sweet kiss.

After a quick breakfast of their favorite cereal, they change and are out the door to the nail salon. She sits in the front while Calum drives, his hand in hers while Luke rests his cheek on the seat by her face kissing her cheek occasionally.

When getting out of the car, Luke holds her hand while Calum opens the door for his two loves, the nail technicians greeting the trio with big smiles. They sit in silence while their feet are buffed, scrubbed, massaged and painted. They giggle as Luke nearly trips over his long legs in the oddly formed flip flops to the pedicure station, his hands held firmly in Calum and Y/N’s.

When the gel has set, they take a group picture of their new colors, Calum is a pretty purple, Luke has a nice shade of blue and Y/N chose a deep red. Three colors that blend together perfectly, just like they do.

Luke insists on paying for all them despite Calum and Y/N’s protests. He just shakes his head, curls jostling, then kisses both of their cheeks.

“My treat to you.”

Their next stop is the massage place that’s only a couple buildings over, so they decide to walk there. Calum has his hand on the lower part of Y/N’s waist, his thumb hooked under the band of her shorts while Luke has his arm thrown around her shoulders. It’s an easy thing being connected this way walking down the street. Somehow they’re always in sync, fitting perfectly together with little communication.

Since the rooms weren’t big enough, they all had to get massaged separately but none of them minded too much. As soon as the masseuse started, all thoughts and worries were gone.

Dazed and relaxed, they went back home for lunch and Y/N started to nod off against Calum’s shoulder. She always gets sleepy after a massage; her muscles feel like jelly.

“Is it my turn to carry her to bed?” Calum grins above her head at Luke.

“Nah, it’s my turn,” Luke chuckles.

Luke is much stronger than his body appears, she’s always amazed at how he can lift her into his arms. She nuzzles into his neck then makes grabby hands for him once he has her settled on their bed. She breathes in their smell in the blankets and sheets, sighing happily.

The two men join her, encircling her in their arms, legs tangled together like vines. She brings their hands to her chest, kisses both of their knuckles and cuddles them.

“After our nap, can we go in the hot tub?” she asks quietly.

“Sure, thing sweet pea,” Luke sighs kissing her forehead.

“Swimsuit optional?” Calum asks in her neck and she smiles against Luke’s throat.

“Only birthday suits,” she giggles then quickly drifts off to sleep. She’s never felt so loved, so cared for before.

• • • •

Taglist: @calpalirwin​  @thecurlsofgod​ @myloverboyash​ @rotten-kandy​ @tea4sykes​ @jannimoeller3​ @loveroflrh​ @iovehemmings​ @cxddlyash​ @princesslrh​  @katiaw2​ @g-l-pierce @fairyintheglass​ @gosh-im-short​ @banditocth @dezzym17 @koalacal @lukeisbaby​ @spicycal​ @mysticalhood​ @notinthesameguey​ @wastedheartcth​ @atlcalm @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @calumance​ @babylon-corgis​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​ @lanternlover2​ @istaywithmyjonas​ @calteahood​ @sarcastically-defensive17​ @another-lonely-heart​ @devilatmydoor​ @frontmanash​ @philthepegacorn​ @mantlereid @lukedorkyhemmings​ @addietagglikesbands​ @kikixfandoms @sanrioluke​ @mayve-hems​ @morguelth @haikucal​ @thatscooibaby​ @meghanrose05​​ @idontneedanyone​​ @dinosaursandsocks​​ @haveufoundwhaturlooking4​ @suchalonelysunflower​​ @burstintocolor​​ @zhangyixingxing1​​ @dead-and-golden​​ @mymindwide​​ @everyscarisahealingplace​​ @stardust-galaxies​​ @blackbutterfliescal​​ @redrattlers​​ @lovelybonesetc​​ @karajaynetoday​​ @quasighost​​ @i-like-5sos​​ @creampiecashton​​ @calpops​ @superbloomed-c​ @ophelia-enthusiast​

[dovechim]

a remedy for mondays 04 (m)

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

➾ 10.1k

➾ summary: all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

➾ warnings: romantic sex, unprotected/ pregnancy sex, creampie, cum eating... the usuals

➾ a/n: thank you for following through with this series so far. im sorry for the wait, but here is the final part :) I also realised that part 3 was not on my master list, but that has been fixed. I hope everyone is keeping safe during these times.

enjoy, and a happy Monday to you :)

(some people asked to be tagged in this, I think @pjmcth​... I and forgot who else 😅)

The first Monday off work, you have grand plans for yourself.

Grand plans that include sleeping in until noon, getting up only to stuff yourself with whatever is left in the kitchen, and then going back to sleep until its dark outside.

It’s your first off day in the longest time that you can remember, and you’ll be damned if you have to move any more than strictly necessary. Finally, it’s time for you to lead the lazy life that you’ve always craved for.

But the best laid plans never come to fruition, and you are left staring miserably at the clock at 7am, wide awake and unable to go back to sleep. Your body clock has been honed after all these years, and it simply will not let you rest. Instead of feeling warm and content, snuggled up in your bed under the covers, you just feel empty and wronged.

Scrolling through social media only delays the inevitable for so long. Looking at all the meaningless memes and watching countless video after video until you finally cry yourself back to sleep again.

When you next wake, it’s noon. You still have the leftovers of the stew that Jimin made the last time he was here, and you spoon it miserably into your mouth after heating it up, but everything tastes like sawdust. The side dishes from Granny are lying untouched in your fridge, and you can’t bear to look at it for a moment longer.

When you lie in bed, you stare at the ceiling motionlessly. Your thoughts are scattered and you can’t help but feel as if your body is not your own anymore. Maybe if you close your eyes, everything will go away when you open them next and this will be just a bad dream.

The first Monday you have without work was supposed to be the best one you’ve had in ages, but instead it passes over in a blur of misery.

The days blur into each other as you cage yourself up in your home, too tired to go out, but too awake to sleep either. It’s only by some primal survival instinct that you keep yourself fed, not to satiate the hunger pangs, but with the lingering consciousness in the back of your mind that whatever is growing inside you at this very moment needs sustenance too, even if you do end up throwing it all up anyway. You’re far too gone to cook anything for yourself, so at this point it’s only Granny’s side dishes that are keeping you alive. What you’ll do when they run out, you have no idea.

You actively avoid thinking about the pea sized bundle of cells growing inside you that very moment. Maybe it’s because you’re scared of having to face a reality where you really might be a single mother, or perhaps it’s because they remind you of a certain man that you loved and lost.

On the third day, your routine of lying in bed is interrupted by a loud and insistent knock on the door that doesn’t go away even when you attempt to ignore it. Dragging yourself to your feet, you pull on a sweater that you pick up from the ground, aware that you haven’t showered or combed your hair in days, but you don’t have any energy to spare in making yourself presentable.

You answer the door, already opening your mouth to tell the delivery person or salesman or whoever that they’ve got the wrong unit.

But it isn’t some stranger. It’s Granny’s kind, smiling face beaming at you as she reaches forward to grasp your hand through the bars of your gate.

“_______!” The way she greets you is as if she hasn’t seen you in years. She looks so happy to see you that it feels as if the whole world brightens up a couple of notches just from her smile alone.

“Gr-Granny! What are you doing here?” Her grip on your hand is warm and reassuring, and she only lets you go for a moment as you move to unlock the gate and usher her in hurriedly.

You’re ashamed at the state of your house. Dirty plates and cups everywhere, empty containers of food dumped in the sink. You are a mess.

But Granny doesn’t say a single word about it as she bustles in, and that’s when you notice that she’s carrying a large bag that she carts over to the kitchen. It’s once again filled with her side dishes, and she stocks all of them into your near empty fridge without a word.

“Granny… that must have been heavy to carry all alone. You shouldn’t have come all the way…” You hesitantly watch her as she organises your fridge for you.

“Nonsense. I only tried that delivery service that one time because all my friends were raving about it. But it turned out to be such a hassle to pack and address everything. I rather do it myself!” She says in a matter of fact tone as she finishes stacking the containers and turns around to face you with a fond smile. “And this way, I get to see how you’re doing too.”

Your eyes brim with tears almost immediately, and you inwardly curse the stupid hormones.

“How did you… how did you know my address?” You watch Granny, and she doesn’t seem to stop moving as she picks up plates, containers and cups, puts them in the sink and wipes down the table counter.

“I squeezed it out from Jimin, of course,” she chuckles at the memory. “Silly boy tried to stop me from coming all the way down here by myself, but when I said I wanted to bring you food…”

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of him.

“But why me? What about Jimin? Shouldn’t you be bringing him food instead of me?” Worse still, the guilt threatens to overwhelm you with how selfless Granny is being, putting you over her grandson when you’ve been nothing but a curse to him.

Granny looks over at you with a confused frown on her face. “What? Jimin? He can take care of himself.” Her kind eyes are smiling as she turns to look at you.

And then it hits you, that she’s only being this nice because she thinks you’re pregnant. A lump forms in your throat as your eyes drop to your midriff. You can’t lead her on any longer. Granny deserves to know the truth, and like Jimin, she shouldn’t have been dragged into this whole mess in the first place.

“Granny… I have something to tell you.”

“Hmm? What is it, Puppy?” Her nickname for Jimin makes your chest ache, and you have to sit down for this. She is scrubbing the dishes at your sink, and the casual, fond way that she gives you his nickname makes what’s coming even worse. God knows you aren’t ready for the impending look of disappointment and anger on her face.

She’ll probably curse you and storm out. Maybe she’ll slap you with the kimchi she brought. Either way, you deserve it.

“Granny, I…” The words are stuck in your throat, and you just can’t find a way to word it. “We lied to you. Back when Jimin and I visited you and your family, and even before that. We… I wasn’t pregnant. We were only pretending to be so that…”

Your voice trails off, and you tire to think of explaining the whole story behind why you even pretended to be pregnant in the first place. You can’t think of a single thing to say that might explain why you deserve her forgiveness.

“I know,” Granny puts down the soapy plate that she was scrubbing. “I didn’t come here to bring you food just because of the baby. Or just because I thought you were pregnant. I came because I wanted to see you, and my silly boy was being so vague and avoiding my questions about you over the phone that I had to come down and see you myself.”

Her response catches you off guard. “Wait, you knew that we were pretending all along?”

Granny only smiles. “Not all along, dear. But when you were at my house, I was packing up the room that the both of you stayed in, and I found your bag of pads and tampons. Now, that wasn’t enough to make any solid conclusions, but combined with the fact that you weren’t showing yet…”

Your shoulders slump. “So you knew. Why didn’t you call us out on it? We were… we lied to you. No, actually, it was me all along. I dragged Jimin into this and made him lie to you. You should hate me, curse me, anything-!”

But Granny doesn’t do any of that. Instead, she approaches you, placing her hand on your shoulder in a warm, reassuring touch. “I could never hate you, Puppy. Not after I’ve seen how much Jimin likes you. You know, he used to be such a shy little thing. But after he met you, I saw how happy you made him. It’s like we all saw a side of him that only you could bring out.”

There is a moment of silence as you digest all this.

“And it’s not just because you made him happy either,” Granny continues. “______, it would be an honour to have you as an addition to my family. Baby or not. We all really like you. You’re strong, you work hard and you’re an intelligent young woman. What more could we want?”

“Granny…” your eyes brim with tears and they spill over, as you clutch her hand, feeling the guilt squeeze your heart over and over. Granny has treated you as part of the family from day one. She saw the good in you even when you couldn’t see it yourself. Her kind eyes and warm embrace makes you feel safe enough to pour everything out to her. The years of mistreatment at your job, all the humiliation that you endured from Bae Joohyun, how you got fired for committing fraud, and the ultimate irony of it all…

“Granny, I messed up. With Jimin. With everything. We said we’d try for a baby for real so that we wouldn’t get in trouble with the company, but they ended up finding out anyway, and now I’m really…” you stop to wipe your cheeks. “Really pregnant.”

A chuckle of disbelief leaves your lips. This is the first time you’ve said the words out loud, instead of just denying it and hoping that it will just go away on its own. You expect Granny to jump for joy or cry with happiness, but instead, she squeezes your hand.

“Does Jimin know?” She asks gently, handing you some tissues and stroking your hair.

Granny’s tender loving touch makes more tears well in your eyes. It’s been forever since you received the love and care that only a maternal figure can provide, and the thought itself reminds you of the tiny little spore that is probably growing inside you at this very moment. Your emotions are just all over the place, and one thought easily snowballs into another.

“No, he doesn’t,” you press the tissue to your damp cheeks, and it soaks through instantly. “I couldn’t tell him… not after everything I put him through. What kind of sick game would I be playing on him?”

Granny only lets you wallow in your ocean of self-pity for a tad longer before she tsks under her breath, straightening up.

“Well, that’s the least of your worries for now. If I were you, sweetheart, I’d think about suing that company of yours. Or at the very least, getting some kind of compensation from them.” Granny’s voice is a no-nonsense one, and it reawakens the rage and indignance that had been drowned out.

She’s right. Being down and feeling sorry for yourself like this is not going to accomplish anything. You’ve never been one to take things lying down, to take the cards as you’re dealt them, but somehow, somewhere along the way after working at this company, you changed. You got beaten down, slowly but surely, and you didn’t even realise it.

Hastily, you wipe your cheeks dry and try to push yourself to your feet. Your movements are fumbling. Where is that notebook with the evidence of all the mistreatments and humiliations you’ve endured over the years? If you’re going to retaliate, might as well mount a full scale attack against those corporate bastards.

But the lack of nutrition over the past few days gets to you, and your vision blacks out for a moment when you stand up, causing you to wobble dangerously on your feet.

Granny sees the look of resolute determination that comes over your face, and she reaches out to steady you. You make a weak attempt at reassuring her that you are alright, taking a few steps forward, but she stops you again.

“Where do you think you’re going, Puppy?”

“To- to get my notebook. And then… I need to get dressed.” Thoughts are racing through your mind of how you’ll storm into the office, fling the doors open with a cup of hot, steaming black coffee in hand and not-so-accidentally-

“You’re not going anywhere,” she says with a firmness in her voice that matches her grip as she forces you to sit back down.

Appalled, you open your mouth to argue back, but Granny shakes her head.

“Not until you’re eating properly and regaining your strength,” she clarifies, pushing up her sleeves once more. “And I’m here to make sure of that.”

The next few days, you’re treated like royalty. Even though you feel bad for making a woman of her age do all the housework, cook you meals with ten side dishes three times a day, Granny won’t have it any other way. Even when you try to sneakily help out with folding a piece of clothing or washing the dishes, all you get are looks of disapproval from the warm old woman, and you feel too bad to keep going.

You’ve never eaten so well before. Chicken, beef, fish, pork. Vegetables of every kind, roasted, stir fried, steamed and blanched, and plenty of fruits too. And along with all that are all the essential pre-natal vitamins that you’ve neglected to take up until now. Granny feeds you better than you could ever feed yourself, and you wonder how you lived without her all these years.

No wonder Jimin turned out so well.

Slowly, the colour begins to reappear in your cheeks. Your hollow, sunken face begins to fill out again, and you find yourself more energetic. Granny looks on with approval as you work at your desk, writing down a long list of everything you’ve ever wanted to say to Bae Joohyun. She listens with a beaming, proud smile on her face as you rehearse your figurative war cry, giving suggestions on where to embellish with more emotion, where to really let them feel the full extent of your wrath.

And on the day itself, she helps you pick out your outfit.

“This one, you look good in this,” Granny says finally, after you have tried on five different outfits.

You look at yourself uncertainly in the mirror, not used to what you see. The light makeup that you had applied for the first time in ages sits unfamiliar on your face. You’d given up on wearing makeup to work a long time ago. Your figure is clad in black from head to toe, dressed in a power suit that you could never bring yourself to wear. You had bought it on impulse years ago when it was on sale, and ever since then it has lived in the back of your closet, waiting to see the light of day. The lapels are made of satin, the suit jacket nips in at your waist snugly (thankfully not toosnugly, considering your current condition) and your legs are somehow longer than you remember them being in the tapered, slim fit dress pants.

Your hands linger on your lower belly for a moment, self-consciously turning to the side to see if it protrudes visibly. But at this stage, it’s barely visible. Then your gaze travels down to your bare feet, and Granny’s voice matches your thoughts.

“You should wear those,” she suggests, pointing to a pair of strappy, low heels that would compliment the outfit, lengthening your legs even more but still providing enough support so that you’ll be comfortable.

But you had something else in mind, and you have to tear your eyes away from the pair of plain old battered flats that you used to wear every day without fail. Similar to the power suit, that pair of heels has been sitting in your cabinet for as long as you can remember, never having the courage to wear it out.

“Women who wear heels with a suit are dressed to kill,” she says by way of explanation, and she sounds so logical that you can’t turn her down.

You bend down to pick up the pair of heels, placing them by the door as you head back to the kitchen, ushered by Granny, to finish the breakfast she made. Today it’s an omelette egg roll and soft tofu soup with pork slices. The egg roll has ketchup squirted on it in a smiley face, and you can’t help but laugh when you see it.

“Granny, I’m not five years old you know,” you pout at her, folding your arms in a gesture that would suggest otherwise. But the following grin on your face as you stuff your mouth with the warm, soft and savoury egg roll is unstoppable.

Granny only laughs as she sits down beside you with her own portion. “You and Jimin are the same. That’s how he likes his ketchup too.”

At the mention of Jimin, your chopsticks freeze in the midst of spearing another egg roll. Your hand shakes a little as you set the utensils down. The thought of running into him only to be faced with his cold look of rejection just chills you to the bone. There’s no way you could stomach that from him.

“What if… what if I see him?” You say in a small voice.

In all your practice runs, you had only gone over what to say to Bae Joohyun and HR. You kept yourself focused on the task ahead, not sparing yourself even a moment to indulge your emotions. But you hadn’t thought of what would happen if you run into Jimin, how you’ll tell him about the baby, or how you’ll make everything right again.

When you start to think about running into Jimin, your mind starts to overthink about what it’ll be like to step foot into that place again. The workplace that you suffered at for years, enduring all sorts of humiliation and injustice just to get to where you are right now. Your breathing involuntarily speeds up- some kind of post-traumatic response, and for a second, you think you might just chicken out of all this.

Just then, your phone placed on the table beside you lights up with a text.

Kim Taehyung: hey… um… i know it’s weird of me to be asking this since u already left us but… Kim Taehyung: if u can, can u come in today? we r rly shorthanded and could use ur help. Kim Taehyung: if it helps, bae joohyun said she’ll buy you a nice lunch if u can come in today. Kim Taehyung: please?

And then just like that, all the feelings of insecurity and cowardice disappear. The nerve of this fucking company. They fire you for fraud and then beg for you to come back and work for them for free? You honestly doubt that Bae Joohyun actually said that, but that’s not the point.

You can almost feel the rage heating up your entire body. Granny takes a look at your screen and tsks under her breath.

“I don’t know what kind of company that is, Puppy, but I’ve never seen one that treats its employees like that.”

Your fingers are trembling as you type back a reply. First, you type out a curt rejection, adrenaline filling your entire body as you imagine what Bae Joohyun’s reaction might be when she learns that for once in your entire miserable career working for her; you turned her down. But there is also a chord of fear that strikes you through the heart, borne out of an ingrained instinct to submit to your inner yes-man in order to please them.

You hesitate before pressing send, taking a moment to compartmentalise your emotions and think this through. There’s a chance that when you get to the office building, you might be turned away by security because you don’t have your access card anymore.

Deleting your entire message, you rack your brains to figure out how to field this situation to your advantage.

Up till now, they still think you’re this pathetic little girl who’d roll belly up to please them at a moment’s notice. They don’t even have the decency to feel a shred of guilt for asking you to come in and work practically for free.

Except you’re not intimidated by them anymore. Now, you are in the position of power.

And this is how you’ll take them down.

Holding your breath, you type out a short reply to Kim Taehyung.

You: I’ll be there at 10.

Granny nods her approval over your shoulder as you put your phone face down, not even bothering to check when Taehyung’s reply comes back.

“You know… I don’t think you’ll have to worry about Jimin. When he sees you dressed like that, he won’t be able to resist. He’ll fall at your feet,” Granny says with a mischievous smirk.

“Granny!” You chide her with a blush heating your cheeks.

“What? It’s true,” she says with a pout that looks oh-so-familiar. “Just be natural, Puppy. Say whatever that comes to mind. That silly boy is probably dying to see you but is too stubborn to come all the way here. Why, he probably looks a right mess too. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been crying his heart out the past week.”

You start to open your mouth to contradict her, but all Granny does is push another egg roll into your mouth as she urges you to finish your breakfast. “Eat up, Puppy. You don’t want to be late.”

*

It’s funny what a change of outfit and shoes can do to a woman. It makes you feel like an entirely different person as you walk into the office building at 10 am on the dot. You’re no longer the meek little employee stuck in a dead-end job who can’t stand up for herself.

No, today you are brave, you are confident, and you are here to give back everything that’s been dealt to you all this while.

Security stops you as you enter. You’re already kind of used to this, since you were never once assigned with your own photo pass in all the time you worked here. Everyday, you had to sign in as a visitor and go through the security checks only for visitors, which more often than not, made you late for work when they hit a snag in the process every now and then. Being made to feel like a visitor at your own workplace does things to a person’s self-esteem, but you grit your teeth and remind yourself that this is the last time you’ll be doing this.

“Who are you here for?” A burly security guard asks you with a stern expression, even though he must have seen your face on a daily basis for the past few years.

“Kim Taehyung.” You say truthfully, and the guard just nods as he waves at you to put your bag through the scanning machine.

Waiting at the other end after having stepped through the metal detecting gates, you scoop up your bag and walk to the elevator. Seeing as it’s past the usual reporting time, it is empty, and your heart pounds in your chest as you watch the numbers go by on the elevator display.

When the doors open, you have composed yourself again, a straight face as you stride towards the doors. You wave your temporary access card and enter, once again struck by the ominous familiarity of the entire place.

Kim Taehyung spots you from his workstation immediately. “______!” He calls out your name in nothing short of a yell, and you fight the urge to cringe, watching as multiple heads turn around to look at you.

Including Park Jimin’s.

Granny was right. He does look a lot worse for wear. He resorts to hiding behind his enormous geek glasses again, blonde hair limp and dull over his forehead, his pretty brown eyes no longer have that warmth anymore. His usually plush, luscious lips are pale, and he looks as if he hasn’t slept in days.

Out of the whole office, even with multiple eyes on you and voices whispering out of curiosity, he is the only one you can look at.

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Kim Taehyung is almost at your side as he spreads his arms in welcome. There is a wide grin across his face, not unlike how he was before. “We really, really need you here.”

Hearing those words makes you break the eye contact with Park Jimin to look at Taehyung. For a moment, you desperately want to believe that those words are true. And it makes you doubt yourself, makes you think that maybe this company isn’t so bad after all, maybe they do treasure you after all. If Taehyung says he needs you, then maybe they really do need you to help them out with a piece of work that no one else can do.

But no. They had years to realise your worth. Why are they only doing it now, after they fired you so unceremoniously?

So you placate him with a bland smile. “Sure. What would you like me to do?”

Taehyung practically skips to his desk. “Ok so we need you to go through some of the brochure material that we’ll be pushing out soon. Just another pair of eyes to make sure that we didn’t miss anything. I know you don’t have your laptop anymore, so you can borrow mine. Oh, and…”

You watch his eyes slide awkwardly to where your old desk used to be. In your absence, they had replaced the smaller desk with a full sized one, currently occupied by someone you don’t recognise.

“…uh, we’ll get you one of the empty meeting rooms to work in,” Taehyung motions for you to follow him, and it’s all you can do not to look in Park Jimin’s direction as you turn away. “You look great, by the way. Hardly recognised you.”

You clear your throat awkwardly as a way of responding as Taehyung sets his laptop on the table for you and plugs it in. He opens the required documents for you as you seat yourself in the hardbacked chair.

“So… here are all the things we need you to look through. Let me know when you’re done, okay? Thanks again, ______!” Taehyung beams at you as he lets himself out of the room.

Left alone, you relax a little. At least things seem to be going your way for now, even the parts you didn’t plan for. Minimizing the word document window, you open Microsoft Outlook and navigate over to Taehyung’s calendar. There, you scroll down to find Bae Joohyun’s calendar and all her appointments and meetings for today.

There. At 11.30am, she has a meeting with the Policy team, with HR in attendance. When you scroll down to the meeting details, you see that Park Jimin has been appointed secretariat for this meeting. You ignore the flutter of nerves that arise at the sight of his name to open up Taehyung’s instant messenger. What you’re doing could really get him in trouble, but then again, a part of you simply doesn’t care. He was complicit in all of this. You have no sympathy for him at all.

You send a quick instant message to one of the Policy team to let them know that the meeting has been cancelled so that you can hijack it for your own purposes. When they reply with an acknowledgement, you sit back in your chair, letting out a sigh of relief before quickly deleting any signs of evidence from his chat log history.

You spend some time going over what you prepared to say when you finally meet the witch, everything from past payrolls where you were underpaid for your overtime work, a draft from a lawyer threatening to sue for illegally divulging your medical information to a doctor’s letter proving your current pregnancy. Everything you need to take that witch on is right here.

A soft, timid knock sounds at the door, and you hurriedly gather everything into a pile and shove it into your bag. Can’t have your plan given away before you’re ready. You expect it to be Taehyung coming to check on your progress, but when the door cracks open, you see a flash of blonde hair, followed by a soft, sweet voice that you missed so much.

“Can I come in?” Jimin asks with his eyes trained on the floor in front of you.

“Come in,” your hands twist together out of nervousness, and you see that Jimin is carrying a cup in his hands as he approaches you.

“I uh… I brought you this. I know you need coffee every day at around this time, so…” Jimin gingerly places the cup on the table without taking a single step forward so that he remains as far away from you as possible. You can see that he is nervous, all the tell-tale signs are there. From the way he keeps running his fingers through his hair to the way he bites his bottom lip and avoids eye contact.

You never really realised it, but you do always go to the pantry at around this time for your before lunch coffee. It gets worse when you realise that Jimin used his cup to make you coffee, and as you stare at his beloved One Piece mug, you have to stop yourself from crying.

Jimin mistakes your silence for something else, and he clears his throat awkwardly as he takes another step backwards. “Well um… let me know if you need anything. I’ll just be… I’ll be outside.”

A part of you wants to call out after him. There are so many things you want to tell him, but before you can gather your scattered wits, he lets himself out of the room.

It’s okay. It’s the wrong timing anyway, you tell yourself in an attempt to calm down and put all thoughts of his sad puppy eyes out of your mind. There will be enough time to talk to him when this is all over. Right now, you have to gear up for the biggest battle of your life.

When 11.30am comes, you shut the lid on Taehyung’s laptop and let yourself out of the room. You know Bae Joohyun always likes to stroll into her meetings exactly 2 minutes late, so you take your time walking to the meeting room. When you are 10 steps away, you see her black clad figure just ahead of you. You watch her push open the meeting door, and you have to consciously fight against back the pulse of intimidation that runs through your entire body. You quicken your steps and push the door open after her.

Just as you’d hoped, the only people in the room are the witch herself, Kim Namjoon from HR, and… Park Jimin as the note taker. He looks surprised to see you in the room as he straightens his posture, eyes widened almost comically in the way that you’ve become all too familiar with.

“What’s this?” Bae Joohyun doesn’t look the least bit bothered, just continues to tap away on her special iPad without even looking up. “Why is she here? Isn’t this meeting with the Policy unit?”

Kim Namjoon looks flustered as he looks at you, gesturing with his chin for you to get out. When you don’t make a single move, he turns back to Bae Joohyun, visibly sweating. “Um… there must be some kind of mistake… _____, we could talk about this later?”

The way his voice rises in a desperate plea only makes the victory even sweeter.

“No. It’s not a mistake. I’m here to dispute the terms of my termination.” You take out your folder of evidence from your bag and drop it on the table. “Of course, we could invite our colleagues from the Policy Unit to sit in on this meeting as well, but something tells me that you won’t want them to hear about what I have to say.”

There is a beat of tense silence as Bae Joohyun contemplates what’s on her iPad screen. She hasn’t looked up even once since you walked into the room. She lets out a soft sigh, as if all this is beneath her and just a waste of her time. Seeing as you aren’t about to get her attention any time soon, you shift your gaze to Kim Namjoon.

“First of all, I would like to bring your attention to the unfair compensation that I have been subject to all these years. According to my calculations, I have yet to be compensated for 136 hours of overtime.” You push a stack of timesheets towards Kim Namjoon’s shocked face. “Time and time again I’ve submitted these, only for them to be rejected.”

Bae Joohyun doesn’t react at all.

“Secondly, I have consulted my lawyer about the illegal release of my medical information. He has advised me to take legal action both against the doctor who allowed my medical information to be leaked, as well as the company itself who illegally utilised the information.”

You pause for a moment to let the words sink in, and at the very same moment, you see Kim Namjoon’s face turn slightly green as he processes the meaning of this.

“Sure, you might be thinking that it’ll be easy to win a lawsuit against an individual like me, being a huge company and all that. But I don’t think it will reflect too well on your organisation as a whole, will it?”

Bae Joohyun blinks once, then taps a few times on her iPad so that the screen goes black. Then, she shifts her gaze to you, her face still unreadable, but you detect a hint of uncertainty in her eyes.

“So? What’s your point?” She folds her arms and addresses you directly.

A good sign. A very good sign.

It’s time for the final blow. You brace yourself with your fists clenched by your side, aware of the mounting tension in the room. Namjoon is practically holding his breath, you can see him shaking in his seat with his eyes darting back and forth between you and Bae Joohyun. Jimin has given up all pretence of typing and hiding behind his laptop, and he is looking at you with nothing short of awe on his face.

You reach in for your last piece of evidence. “You are aware that in this country it is against the law to terminate a pregnant woman without a thorough inquiry? And if a pregnant employee must be dismissed, it has to be based on relevant and objective performance criteria?”

A small raise of her eyebrow as her head nods imperceptibly, but you can see Bae Joohyun’s expression waver.

“Yes… we are well aware of that. It is a policy I have helped to implement,” the witch says with a hint of pride in her voice.

A satisfied smile spreads across your face as you draw out the doctor’s letter. You can hear Jimin’s sharp intake of breath in the otherwise silent room, and the shifting in his seat as he leans his elbows on the table. His mouth is slightly open, but no words are coming out.

“According to this letter, you’ll find that I am currently almost 2 months pregnant. As such, having been terminated whilst pregnant without further inquiry or offer of wage compensation, I am entitled to further legal action against you and the company.”

You toss the letter directly to Bae Joohyun, and it lands heavily in front of her. You can see Jimin’s fingers twitch as his stare burns a hole into the letter, before looking back at you with an unreadable expression on his face. The witch herself lets out another sigh before meeting your eyes, completely ignoring the letter.

“We will look into raising a fair and just inquiry.” Her words are brief, and she casts a sideways glance at Namjoon as she says this, as if this was all his fault to begin with.

Namjoon, on the other hand, rushes to accept the blame. “O-of course! We will ensure that the entire process is as transparent and fair as possible.”

“No need for that,” you say with an indifferent wave of your hand, and the satisfaction grows when the witch herself does a double take.

“What… what exactly do you mean by that?” Bae Joohyun is unable to believe her ears.

Jimin is looking at you as if you just saved the world from total destruction. The admiration in his eyes can’t be hidden as he grins. Namjoon looks sick.

“No need for the inquiry,” you say just to make things clear. “I’m aware of how things are done at this company, and sad to say that it’s anything but fair. I’m quitting. Notice effective immediately. You’ll hear from my lawyer regarding the compensation that I owe for my notice period.”

You reach into your bag for the last envelope, tossing your resignation letter onto the table with a practiced ease. Then, you gather your bag and make your way out the door, Bae Joohyun’s shocked expression burned into your retinas.

It feels like you’re walking away from an explosion like the cool guys do in the movies. For once in your life, you feel like the protagonist of your own movie rather than the side character.

Everyone else in the office is still working quietly, so you escape the office without being pursued further. When you stop to press the lift button, you hear the doors fling open, and a panting Park Jimin appears.

“Wait!” Jimin has his hands on his knees. “Le-let me drive you home.”

His eyes grow desperate as the lift doors open.

You owe him an explanation too. You hold the lift button as you turn towards him. “Will you?”

*

The drive home is silent up until he parks in front of your apartment. Neither of you make a move.

“2 months?” Jimin finally breaks the silence. “When did you find out?”

“After… after they fired me. They called me with the results from the free checkup. That’s how I found out.”

“So you knew when I called you?” Jimin’s heartbroken voice stabs you right in the gut.

There’s no excuse you could make for yourself. “It- it’s true though. Everything I said.”

“What?” Jimin looks and sounds like a puppy that’s been kicked.

“I did drag you into all of this. It was selfish to use you as my excuse the first time, and I couldn’t let myself go down that road anymore. You made all my Mondays better, but I made yours worse. You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than me, than all of this-“

“-but I want this,” Jimin grasps your hand and pulls it to his chest. “I don’t care if it’s selfish. All this while you’ve been assuming that you dragged me into this, that I was the unwilling party all along. But have you ever stopped to consider for one second that I might want this too? With you? That you made my Mondays better too?”

When you take a moment to look at his face, the Park Jimin that you’ve come to know and love over the past few months, the familiarity of him soothes you. The plump cheeks, rounded eyes, and the special smile he always has just for you. And he’s right. Never had you thought that he might want this- because why would he? How could he?

“You want this? But… why?” You are incredulous, unwilling to believe.

“Because I love you. And the thing growing inside you right now,” Jimin lets his emotions get the best of him, all the better to say the words he’s been struggling to say ever since he saw you that morning. And maybe it’s not the most romantic, but it’s filled with sincerity at the very least. “I’m in love with you, rash decisions and all. The day where you dragged me into your mess was the best day of my life. My Mondays have never been the same since.”

You can’t help but laugh aloud at how realistic his confession is. Classic Jimin style, savage as always. At the sound of your laughter, Jimin grins also, slightly shy from just pouring out his feelings like that, but proud of himself all the same.

“Granny knows, you know,” you say in between your laughter. “She knows we were faking it all along. And- oh! She came to visit me, you should come in and say hi to her.”

“What?” His comical gasp only sends you into another laughing fit. “Since when?! You could have told me sooner! She’ll spank me so hard for lying to her…”

“She’s not the only one who’ll be spanking you,” you can’t help but tease him, the opportunity is just too perfect.

“Agh! Don’t talk like that when my Granny is involved!!” Jimin buries his head in his hands in embarrassment.

You tug at his hands, opening your side of the door. “You have to come in, at least! She’ll be so happy to see you. To see us together again. She was the one who helped me with all of this you know.”

You drag a grumbling and still embarrassed Jimin inside, stopping every few seconds to tease him about his red ears and pinch his cheeks.

“Oh come on, Granny won’t be mad when she sees how cute you look. Wait, no. She’ll insist to feed us like there’s no tomorrow. She’ll say you lost your chubby cheeks,” you grin at him as you unlock the door, fully savouring the bubbly feeling in your stomach that makes you feel as if you are floating.

“Isn’t it good, though? It means I lost weight,” Jimin places a hand on his own face, as if to gauge whether his cheeks have slimmed down or not, still fretting over how Granny will react when she sees him.

“No! Of course it’s not good! You shouldn’t be losing any more weight, you’re perfect as is,” you drop your bag at the door and kick off your heels, groaning in relief. “Granny! We’re home!”

“That should be my line,” Jimin mutters under his breath as he braces himself to see Granny. But minutes pass, and he doesn’t see his beloved Granny.

“Hmm? That’s strange. Where did she go? She was just here this morning,” you mumble to yourself, walking towards the kitchen and wondering if she might be too immersed in cooking, but then you spot a scribbled note tacked to your fridge.

I left for Busan already, Puppy. You did well… I’ll leave you two alone. Side dishes in the fridge! Stay safe!

“Oh? Puppy? Why did she write that note to me? How did she know I’d be here?” Jimin is confused as he reads the note from over your shoulder.

You can’t help but smirk at his confusion. “Sorry, but Granny decided that the nickname belongs to me now.”

As Jimin protests with a pout, you can’t help but smile at Granny’s thoughtfulness. Seeing that your thoughts are somewhere else, Jimin rests his chin on your shoulder to demand for your attention like a cute puppy.

You turn to him and your attention is drawn to one of your favourite parts of him- his lips. Noticing that they are still a little dry, you frown and reach inside your pocket, taking out your favourite lip balm.

“Hold still. I’ve wanted to do this since this morning,” you place a hand on his chin and uncap the lip balm, dabbing and swiping it gently across his full lips. Though slightly dry, his lips are so soft and pliable under your touch, and the way he closes his eyes to enjoy your touch has you clenching your thighs together. With every swipe of the lip balm, his bottom lip looks plumper, and you can’t help yourself any longer.

Carelessly tossing aside the lip balm, you chase after his lips with your own, tasting the sweet peach flavour of the lip balm and feeling just how soft and cushiony Park Jimin’s lips are. He makes the cutest surprised little sound, eyes open for a second before he kisses you back with equal fervour.

You make sure to scrape your teeth against his plush bottom lip, fulfilling one of the fantasies you’d been dreaming about since this morning.

When you break away, Park Jimin has a teasing smile on his slightly swollen lips. “I guess that’s an efficient way to put lip balm on for two people.”

“Shut up already,” you say before you start to giggle all over again, and Jimin takes this as an invitation to go in for seconds.

“Since… since Granny said she’d leave us alone… shall we?” Jimin is somehow endearingly shy even though the two of you aren’t strangers to this.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He tugs you into your bedroom eagerly, and on the way, you can’t help but grab a handful of his ass through his dress pants. Park Jimin pretends to be shocked as he turns around, arms around your waist as he makes you sit down on the bed gently.

“That’s sexual harassment, Ms.” His words contradict his actions as he runs his palms down your thighs, fingers dancing up your inner thigh.

“But I like your ass,” you say with a pout, imitating him and the way his cheeks puff up.

“I like yours better,” he says with an unabashed grin. “And I fucking love this suit on you. The moment you walked in this morning… I think Taehyung saw my boner.”

You can’t hide your squeal of embarrassment as you clasp a hand to your mouth, but Park Jimin only grins as he invites himself to undo the button on your pants.

“I said I really liked it… but I’m changing my mind. I want it off, now.” He bids you to lift your hips so that he can peel the pants off your legs, exposing your bare skin. His fingers on your skin makes your temperature skyrocket, and even more so when they tease at the edges of your underwear. He sees the damp patch in the centre, and glances upwards with raised eyebrows. “Are you wet already? I haven’t even done much yet…”

The cute way he glances through his bangs with the slight smirk on his lips makes you feel brazen. “I’m pregnant… I’m always wet these days.”

Park Jimin lets out a sharp exhale as he drags his thumb against the wet patch to feel for himself. You would be embarrassed were he not so clearly turned on by this, demonstrated by the urgency with which he pulls your underwear down and wedges his shoulders between your thighs. Without a single word, he kisses the inner flesh of your thighs, working his way up to where you need him the most.

It’s torture to watch his plush lips get closer and closer to your centre, until they finally envelope your swollen and aching clit. He wraps his lips around them and sucks, thick fingers digging into your inner thighs to keep them spread as he licks up every drop of your arousal. He eats you like a man starved, and your back arches under his ministrations. He gives your poor clit a break as he switches to broad flat licks with his tongue, and everything just becomes so much wetter. You can see that his chin is glistening, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest as he only spreads your legs wider, one thigh on each shoulder.

The lewd position in which you are in, seeing his golden head in between your thighs makes you want him even more. You are aching to feel him, to be closer than physically possible to him.

Jimin satisfies your hunger by introducing two fingers into you, and you whine at the stretch. His fingers have always been so deliciously thick, and he basks in your reaction.

“You like that? Like being filled with my fingers? Tell me how much you like it.” His vulnerable side shows through as he glances up at you while you thread your fingers through his soft hair.

“I missed this… missed you so much,” you voice comes out in a breathless whisper as you clench around him. You glance at him to see how he’s rolled back his sleeves to above the elbow, using his other hand to push his hair back and show off his forehead glistening with sweat and you swear you get a million times wetter at the sight.

“Like what you see baby?” Park Jimin shows off with a cocky little smile, pushing his hair back again just for good measure. He can feel how much wetter you are, and you can bet he’s not going to let this go just like that.

“Good looking bastard,” you swear under your breath as he rubs your clit with his thumb. “I sure hope our baby takes after you.”

“The good-looking part or the cocky part?” Jimin has the nerve to tease you, but you don’t have your wits to answer any more as he flattens his tongue against your clit, driving his fingers inside you just to send you over the edge.

Maybe it’s because you were deprived of his presence for the past week that this orgasm makes you realise how much you were starving for Park Jimin. Your thighs clench around him, shaking with mind numbing pleasure as he continues to thrust his fingers inside you.

He shows you no mercy as he continues to rub your clit slowly, the other hand stroking your inner thigh to soothe you. It’s characteristic of him, getting you used to the overstimulation whilst comforting you at the same time.

You push yourself up on your elbows, seeing the bulge in his dress pants and feeling the impatience fuel your actions. “I want to see you. Why are you still wearing these?”

He is preoccupied with licking the rest of you off his fingers as you struggle with the button on his pants, setting him free and reaching past his underwear to grasp his cock. The feeling of his thick length in your hands ignites a hunger inside you as you stroke him, running your thumb across his tip as he kicks away his pants. His abs tense as you palm his cock, and your mouth waters at the thought of running your tongue across them.

“I can’t wait to see you round and swollen with our baby,” Park Jimin says out of nowhere, his eyes hungry as he pushes your blazer off your shoulders, fingers working magic on the buttons of your shirt. He pushes that off your shoulders as well, eyes feasting on your breasts sitting so prettily in the cups of your bra. “And these. They’ll look so beautiful leaking with milk just for me.”

Jimin undoes your bra with ease, slipping the straps down your shoulders. He drags his thumb across your peaked nipple painfully slowly, then he pinches it sharply, eliciting a cry from you.

“The milk isn’t for you, it’s for our baby,” you remind him with a warning squeeze to his cock, sliding your own thumb through the messy tip.

Jimin meets your eyes with the cutest pout ever. “The baby can share. They’re not getting here for another few months yet.”

How he can look like a kicked puppy with your hands around his cock, you have no idea. The duality of Park Jimin will be the death of you someday. He crawls forward as your hands rid him of his last article of clothing, hungry to touch his bare skin and feel it against your own. Jimin makes sure your head is nestled comfortably against the pillows as he kisses his way down your body to your breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking, giving you a glimpse of what it would feel like when you do start producing milk later on.

You can feel his cock against your inner thighs as you cradle him with your body, feeling the hardness of his abs against your softer body, the curve of his ass. Jimin is still satisfying himself with sucking on your breasts, licking and teasing you to his heart’s content.

You twitch in response, feeling much more sensitive now that you’re a few months along, but Jimin looks as if he’s enjoying your breasts so much that you don’t have the heart to stop him. His fingers are delicately stroking your lower belly as he worships your breasts, muttering sweet nothings about how perfect you’ll be as the mother of his baby.

“Want your cock, now,” you urge him with your voice and reinforce it with your thighs nudging him into position. You feel the head of his cock blunt against you, and without taking his mouth off your nipple, he positions himself with one hand and enters you with a fluid thrust of his hips. As if he can’t take his mouth off your breasts for one second.

He continues to suck at your breasts as he fucks into you, the stretch of his cock and the welcome burn making you curl your thighs around him. Once he’s certain that you can take it, Park Jimin starts to pound into you with his cock, his rough thrusts contrasting with his gentle sucking and kissing.

He finally lets up with the assault against your breasts, pushing your thighs together and putting them on one shoulder. This suddenly display of strength has you gushing on his cock, and it only strokes his ego even more.

“You like getting fucked like this? Hm?” Jimin punctuates his filthy words with a particularly hard thrust that you can feel all the way to your cervix. “You like getting fucked so much, it was only a matter of time till you got knocked up like this.”

He watches your breasts bounce so deliciously, knowing that it is because of his fucking.

“I love it, fucking love it. Love you,” your reply is disjointed, every thrust of his hips sends his cock so deep inside you. “Want you to keep fucking me.”

“I will, baby don’t worry,” he places one hand on your hip and the other just under your breasts as he buries himself deep. “Give you all the babies you want.”

“Want you to cum inside me, give me all your cum,” you watch as his expression twists in pleasure, his cock twitching inside you as he pulls out almost all the way, only to slam back in. “Fill me up the way you did when you fucked a baby into me. Then I want you to fuck your cum into me.”

“Ahh, fuck,” he swears harshly under his breath, you always know just how to get him. Your cunt is so tight and warm around him, everything is so wet and he’s missed the feeling of you wrapped around him. He holds a tender hand to your lower belly. The thought that you’re giving him a baby, and he gets to be the one to hold you and fuck you and kiss you makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world. “I’ll come so soon.”

“Cum for me baby please,” you play with your nipples, putting on a show for him as he groans, thumb finding your clit as he struggles to hold himself back. “Want to feel your cum inside me. I want to be dripping with your cum.”

Jimin quickens his pace on your clit as his thrusts start to become sloppy, and he throws back his head as his abs tighten. With three more thrusts, he buries himself as deep as possible into your warm cunt, feeling himself unleash ropes of cum into your depths. You can feel how warm and sticky everything is, and the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you sends you into another orgasm as well.

True to his word, Jimin doesn’t pull out immediately, giving you lazy little thrusts to fuck his cum back into you as if the two of you were still trying to get pregnant. It’s the little, silly things that he does- making you prop your hips up, pulling out his cock so slowly and plugging you up with his fingers that makes you fall even deeper in love with this fool.

“I heard cum is good for the cervix if you’re pregnant,” he says by way of explanation as he watches globs of cum escape from your lips. He indulges himself by spreading it a little, before pushing it all inside you. “Softens it so you’ll have an easier birth.”

“Bullshit,” you giggle at him. “Next thing you’ll be telling me is that cum facials make me look younger.”

Jimin frowns indignantly. “I would never say something as ridiculous as that!” He’s never really been into painting your face white with cum, he’d rather save it all for your sweet pussy. “But that cervix one really is true- I read it on the internet!”

Jimin swipes two fingers through the mess that is your pussy, bringing it to his lips for one last suck before he cuddles in beside you. Suddenly, he freezes.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I? I didn’t hurt you?” He runs his hands down your body as if to check for any sore spots.

“It’ll be a while before I’m at that stage- so we should have all the kinky sex now before I’m too fat for you to tie me up,” you reassure him with your hand over his.

Jimin releases a breath against the back of your neck. “Kinky sex hm? I could be down for that.” There is a moment of silence as he draws mindless patterns on your lower belly, and your eyes flutter closed before you hear his soothing voice again. “I’m so excited to see our baby. I want more babies after this. Hey, we should have a gender reveal party. Or a baby shower. For real this time.”

It’s so adorable that he’s so excited about all this. “We should invite Yoongi too. I think they should have popped out their baby by now. I want to put Yeji to shame by being hotter than she was when she was pregnant.”

“Of course baby,” Jimin muffles his laughter into your shoulder. “We’ll do that.”

You hear your phone ping from somewhere far away, and it wakes you up just as you’re about to drift off to sleep. You stir Jimin awake with your elbow and make him fetch your phone for you. With many grumbles about how he better get extra kisses for this, he leaves the bed for a moment, and deposits your phone in your hands before snuggling back under the covers.

You unlock your phone and open your mail app. Your delighted gasp wakes Jimin once more, and he’s wide awake the next moment.

“What is it!? Did the baby kick?” He doesn’t stop to think when he’s alarmed, but it’s adorable.

“It’s too early for that,” you say as you do a double take at the words on your screen. You can feel the smile spreading across your face as you read the email again. Jimin sits up in bed and squints at your phone screen.

“I got a job offer!”

[doc-pickles]

right where you left me

It’s finally heeeere! One of the reasons I waited so long to post this fic was because my brain wasn’t working but also this accidentally went from a one shot to 8k words... Oops. Since this got so big I’m going to post it in two parts. Here is part one, so I hope y’all enjoy! (and don’t say i never did anything for y’all)

TW// Blood and Miscarriage Mention 

Jo had just left Val’s room, her situation not improving and looking like it might get worse. The news had brought her to tears, her body desperately racking with sobs as she stood outside the hospital. She knew she probably looked crazy, she felt crazy, but the day had been too much for her. 

The thing that terrified Jo about Val’s situation was that she could place herself there in an instant. Val was pregnant and scared and alone and because of that Luna might not have her mother around. Her mind drifted to the little life growing inside of her, hand flitting down the swell of her stomach as she sat on a bench and gasped for air. What if she died and her child didn’t have anyone? What if she was fighting for her life and her baby was in an incubator alone and scared? 

Logically she knew that wouldn’t happen, her friends and coworkers would make sure her baby was taken care of. And Alex… well she still needed to tell him, but she knew he’d step up and take care of their child despite what had happened between them. 

That particular thought brought another round of tears to Jo’s eyes, her heart aching at the fact that she had to call Alex and tell him that they were having a baby instead of coming up with some stupid cheesy way to tell him when he came home from work. They’d been trying, maybe not with any conscious effort but she’d gone off her birth control after coming back from treatment and he hadn’t restocked on condoms and well… If there was anything Alex and Jo were good at it was finding time to have sex. They’d even managed to find time for a quick round in the shower the morning he left.She missed him, after all the shit he’d put her through she missed him so much. She chalked it up to her hormones, but Jo would give a lot to see Alex again. 

“I’m so sorry to intrude, but are you okay? I know we’re supposed to keep our distance but you look like you could use a hug.”

Jo looked to the woman who now stood in front of her. She was bundled up in a dark pea coat and a grey woolen cap that covered her whole head except a few blonde curls that managed to sneak out. She couldn’t make out any discernible features through the woman’s pink striped face mask, but her dark brown eyes looked friendly enough. 

“I’m just having… a really shitty year,” Jo threw her hands out in exasperation, another sob coming up as the woman sat next to her on the wooden bench. “I have this patient and she’s basically dying and she has this… this beautiful little daughter in the NICU and her baby has no one else and it’s just… What if my baby ends up like that? I mean my husband already up and left me to move halfway across the country, wouldn’t me dying from COVID or something just as horrible really be the cherry on top of this disastrous year?”

The woman places a hand on Jo’s shoulder, the small amount of human interaction soothing her soul as the stranger begins to speak, “You have a good heart, I can tell. Who else would be this concerned about someone else’s baby?”

A chuckle escapes Jo as she thinks in her head that her newfound empathy is a direct result of her pregnancy hormones, “Not me usually, but impending motherhood and the prospect of being alone for the rest of my life has turned me into a softie.”

“I get it, when I saw my kids for the first time my whole life changed. My heart just…,” the woman paused, then let out a laugh. “You know in the Grinch? When his heart grows three sizes? That’s what holding my babies for the first time felt like.”

Jo settles a hand onto her slightly rounded stomach, wondering if that’s the reason Alex hadn’t come home. If he’d been so overwhelmed with love for his kids that he just couldn’t leave. She’d never considered the possibility, but now that she did her own heart cracked a bit at the thought. 

 “I just… I never thought I’d be going through this alone. My husband, he’s so good with kids and he’d wanted them for so long and I was finally ready,” Jo wiped at her eyes as she stared up at the sky, willing her tears to stop just for a moment. “And then he left because he found out he already has kids with his ex. So of course that’s when I would get pregnant, right? Right when things were about to change and we were going to get everything we wanted, he left.”

There was a pause that let Jo collect herself, blinking back her tears before she really had a meltdown in front of this complete stranger. She brushed her coat off, standing and facing the woman on the bench who was staring curiously at Jo. 

“Thank you, for letting me vent. I really needed it,” Jo sighed, running a hand through her unruly hair as she straightened her face mask. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a NICU baby to go and check on.”

Jo walked back into the hospital feeling lighter than she had in weeks, the kindness of the stranger she’d met lifting her spirits as she journeyed upstairs. She would be okay, her baby would be fine, and Luna’s situation would resolve itself no matter Val’s outcome.

_

“Alex!” Standing outside Meredith’s hospital room, Alex turned at the sound of Izzie’s voice. He was grateful she’d offered to come with him to Seattle for emotional support, but he was so lost in his thoughts that he’d barely registered her presence. 

“Hey Iz, I just checked on her. They won’t let me in, but she’s doing good,” Alex let a chuckle out as he looked to Meredith’s sleeping form. “She was shocked to see me but the grin she got on her face… It was priceless.” “I think you should stay in Seattle.”

There’s a momentary silence as Alex tries to absorb what Izzie’s said to him. Why the hell would he come back here when his kids were in Kansas? Sure he loved Meredith and her kids… and Jo too, he loved her more than anything. But none of that mattered anymore, his kids were his first priority and he wouldn’t let them down. 

“I just think… maybe you should consider it,” Izzie kept speaking before he could even get a word in, her tone making him listen intently. “I love that you’re there for Eli and Alexis, but they’ll be fine only seeing you on holidays and during the summer. I just think you’re needed here, by more people than just Meredith.”

“Iz I-”

“Go up to the NICU, just trust me,” Izzie looks at him, eyes shining with unshed tears as they meet his. He notices that she doesn’t look sad, she looks relieved, happy almost as she speaks to him. “Go to the NICU and if your answer is still the same when you come back then fine. But just… I think it’s important for you to go and see what you’re missing.” 

Izzie doesn’t say anything else, settling into a visitor’s chair in the hallway and bringing out the scarf she’d been working on since they’d left Kansas. Alex knows better than to ask questions when she’s this adamant about things, instead letting his feet carry him on the all too familiar path towards the NICU. He missed it if he were honest, being chief of a huge hospital didn’t give him much time to go up and stare at the babies in their plastic incubators anymore. But the room had always been soothing to him, it’s where he’d realized that he wanted to be a Peds surgeon and for that he’d always be grateful. 

When he approaches the room he sees exactly what Izzie had been steering him towards. She’s walking out of the NICU, stripping out of the cumbersome PPE she’d had to wear inside and back down to her scrubs. Her hair tumbles out of the messy bun it’d been in but she seems unaffected as she smoothes down the creases in her navy colored scrubs. 

That’s when he notices it, the slight swell of her stomach straining against the dark fabric as she reaches up to adjust her face mask. His breathing hitches as his eyes stay glued to her abdomen. After looking at her for almost every day of the past eight years, Alex considered himself an expert on Jo’s body and he knew that the small bump was not there the last time he saw her. 

When she turns towards him finally she freezes, eyes wide as they stand across from one another. Their eyes meet for the first time in months and all Alex wants to do is surge forward and bring Jo into a tight hug. He knows he can’t, she would probably punch him in the face if he got within 3 feet of her, but he can dream, right? She’s blinking at him in confusion as if his presence genuinely doesn’t compute in her brain. 

“Alex.”

-

She’s not sure if she’s hallucinating the sight of her ex husband in front of her, but he’s standing there in that stupid black jacket looking at her as if it were for the first time. Her heart is racing, telling her to run to him and hug him tight and not let go. Her brain talks her out of it, instead carrying her forward to stand a few feet in front of him. Jo doesn’t know where her courage comes from, but she hears herself speak first. 

“What’re you doing here?”

Her tone isn’t angry or upset like she’d thought it would be, instead carrying a neutral tone to it as she takes in Alex. His eyes are scanning over her too and she knows that he’s going to catch on to the fact that something is different about her. He knew her well enough, it wouldn’t take him long. 

“I’m Mer’s healthcare proxy still, I’m gonna hang around until she’s out of the woods,” Alex’s eyes finally come up to meet her again, his fingers reaching out to grab at her hand. “Can we… Can we talk?”

Her heart wins out that time, fingers lacing with Alex’s as she nods and lets him lead her down the hallway. Jo doesn’t know what she’s going to say, doesn’t know what Alex is going to say, but the feeling of his hand pressed against hers is a relief she can’t quite explain. 

When they enter the empty on call room, Jo sits herself on one of the beds, her eyes watching her feet as she rips her face mask away. The cool air of the room gives her lungs a needed reprieve as she focuses on anything except Alex. 

“How far along are you?”

Her heart stops then, eyes darting up to Alex in panic. He’d already figured it out, already realized that she was pregnant before she even had a chance to say anything to him. Fear builds up inside her as she desperately hopes that he doesn’t think she’s been hiding from him on purpose. 

“12 weeks… I haven’t known for that long, I was avoiding it for awhile,” her fingers nervously tangle together as she wills back another round of tears. She’s not going to cry in front of him, she’s stronger than that. “I swear I was going to tell you, I just-”

“I’m not mad, take a breath Jo,” Alex was kneeling in front of her, placing his hands over her own shaking ones as he looked her over. She couldn’t meet his eyes, her own letting hot tears stream down her face no matter how hard she tried to stop them. “Hey don’t cry, I’m not mad. It’s okay, there’s no reason to cry.”

“There is though! There is because you left! You left without a second thought. You didn’t even call, couldn’t even look me in the eye and tell me,” Jo looks up then, meeting his eyes that are now displaying a sad expression. “You left Alex. Nothing changes that, not a baby or a pandemic or anything else. You left me.”

He sighs then, his head hanging low as he takes a deep breath. The all too familiar instinct in Jo wants to hold him close and run her fingers through his hair, but she keeps reminding herself that he’s the one that got them there, not her, “I know I left and I’ve regretted it every day since. I wish I could take it back and talk with you and-”

“You can’t though! You can’t take back what you did, you can’t take back leaving me for Izzie,” Jo pulls her hands out of his grasp then, running them delicately through her hair as she tries to get a grip on her emotions. “You can’t just waltz back in here and pretend a simple apology is going to fix everything because it’s not.”

There’s a thick silence then, the only sounds between the two are their heavy breathing. Jo’s mind is racing and Alex… well Jo is sure that if he didn’t feel guilty before that he definitely does now. She lets her eyes close for a moment, ignoring the tense air and the presence of her ex husband so that she can collect her thoughts. 

“I wanna be there, for you and the baby, you know,” Alex’s voice is soft and laced with trepidation as if he might say the wrong thing. “I’m… Izzie is gonna send the kids for summers so I can come back here. And I’m never gonna stop apologizing for-”

“Fine, you can help with the baby but that’s it. I can’t… I can’t do this again. I can’t trust you anymore,” she knows the words are cruel, but they’re true. The moment she opened the letter he’d written Jo had lost all trust in Alex. “You can be there for the baby, I won’t keep you away, but I don’t need you anymore. I can’t need you anymore.”

She stands and leaves then, knowing if she stays any longer she’ll say something she regrets. She’s full of anger and hurt, but more than anything she wishes she could turn around and fold herself into Alex’s arms for hours on end.

+

There’s something wrong.

As soon as she wakes up in the middle of the night, Jo knows something is wrong. She sits up and turns on the side lamp, not feeling any different but knowing deep down that something had changed. She almost rolled over and went back to sleep, but her fingers brushed against something cool on her sheets. When she looks down at her hand, her heart stops. 

Blood. 

Her fingers were bright red as she looked down at them, heart hammering loudly in her ears as she tried to make sense of what was happening. She’d been fine when she went to bed just a few hours earlier and now her sheets were covered in blood. 

“No no no, please no,” Jo’s voice was barely audible as she reached one hand out towards her phone, blindly dialing the number she knew by heart. “Please god no.”

“Jo? It’s two in the morning.”

“I know but I-”

Her voice cracks then, not able to make out any other words as she stares at the pool of blood on her white sheets. She could hear him clattering around on the other end, the sound of keys jangling and his front door opening and closing. 

“I’m coming, I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

Really he's there in 10, sliding the door to the loft open and finding Jo sitting up in the same spot she had been when she’d called. As soon as she sees him across the darkened loft she really cracks, a loud sob breaking through her as Alex rushes to her side, his eyes immediately taking in the blood stained sheets. His arms are around her in seconds, pulling her into his chest as heavy sobs wracked her body. 

“Hey, deep breaths it’s okay,” Alex’s fingers are under her chin, tilting her head up and meeting her eyes. She’s terrified, her heart beating out of time, but Alex’s calm demeanor slows her breathing down and gets her to focus on him. “Go rinse off and then I’ll take you in. Okay?” 

Jo nods, trusting Alex’s words as she walks silently to the bathroom and strips out of her clothes. She climbs into the shower, letting the hot water calm her only slightly as her fingers float down to her swollen belly. At 15 weeks she’d thought she’d left her worries behind in the first trimester, but the cold reality of the real world had decided to slap her across the face tonight. As she stands under the warm spray she prays to any god that might be out there to keep the baby resting in her womb safe where they are. 

“You okay? Jo?”

Alex’s voice sounding outside the bathroom door snaps Jo out of her thoughts, her burning skin telling her she’d been in there for longer than she’d thought. She responds quickly, letting Alex know she was still alive before shutting the water off and grabbing a towel to wrap around herself. Jo realizes that she hadn’t even noticed him putting a pair of sweatpants and one of his old t-shirts in the bathroom for her. She quickly pulled the clothing on, exiting the bathroom to find Alex gathering up her bedsheets and throwing them into the laundry hamper. 

“Hey,” Alex’s tone is laced with concern and care as he steps towards her. She’s barely talked to him in the few weeks he’d been back in Seattle, but Jo can’t resist folding herself into the comfort of his arms as hot tears begin to stream down her face. “Hey it’s okay, everything is gonna be okay.”

Jo hadn’t changed her mind on what she’d told Alex when he’d found out about the baby, but as she faced the possibility that they might lose their child all she wanted was his comfort. His arms settled around her waist, one hand curling towards her stomach to let his fingers brush across the bump there. 

“Let me take you in, we’ll get you checked out and everything will be okay,” Alex’s voice is muffled as he presses his lips into her hair. Jo blindly nods, not moving from her place against Alex’s chest. “You’re gonna be okay, you’re not bleeding anymore right?”

Jo shakes her head in answer, her body curling closer to Alex’s as she thought about going in and being told her baby hadn’t made it. 

“That’s a good thing. Come on,” when Jo still makes no move to leave his embrace, Alex leans back and looks down at her, eyes scanning her face somberly. “I’ll stay with you the whole time, okay?”

Jo lets Alex lead her out of the loft and down to his car that’s parked haphazardly in the lot. The drive seems to take twice as long as usual, Jo’s hand never leaving Alex’s grip as she watches the scenery of Seattle pass by in a blur. Her free hand subconsciously wraps around her belly, hoping for the flutters she’d felt the past few days to return. 

Before she can comprehend what’s happening around her, Jo is sitting in an exam room waiting for the OB on call to see her. She doesn’t remember walking out of the car or coming into the hospital, she doesn’t remember changing into the sterile smelling hospital gown or answering whatever intake questions were asked of her. She figures Alex had taken care of that, his hand still clasped in hers as he sits in the chair next to the exam bed. 

“I’m still here, I’m not leaving,” Alex’s voice soothes her nerves, as if he can hear the exact thoughts running through her head at the moment. “I’m not leaving Jo.”

And he doesn’t. The OB comes in and performs a quick physical exam before she powers on the ultrasound machine. Jo lays back, eyes closed in a combination of fear and anxiety as she feels the probe slide around her abdomen. She doesn’t want to see the woman’s face when she tells her that her baby isn’t alive anymore. 

And then, there’s a booming sound that echoes through the room. Jo’s eyes flash open and look towards the screen, the black and white image of her uterus showing a baby that won’t stop moving around. The heartbeat booms again and it takes everything in her not to break down and cry tears of joy. 

“I told you it would be okay,” Alex’s voice is soft and filled with emotion as he squeezes her hand, his lips involuntarily pressing against her forehead. “See, they're fine. You’re both fine.”

The OB spouts off something or another but all Jo hears is that she and the baby are okay. She needs to stay off her feet for a few days but she’ll be fine. Her heart returns to normal as the woman leaves the room, hands coming up to cover her face as a fresh round of tears begin to float down her cheeks. 

“Come here, you’re okay,” Alex envelops her in his arms once more, Jo pressing herself tightly against him as she let her tears flow. They weren’t sad or scared anymore, the tears she was crying now were ones of relief and joy. “Get dressed and I'll take you home okay? I’m gonna go get you discharged.”

Quickly changing back into her clothes, Jo sat on the edge of the exam table reflecting on her night so far. The terrified feeling she’d had when she saw her blood stained sheets hadn’t gone away unless Alex was holding her in his arms, his soothing words and physical presence doing more to put her mind at ease than any of her years of experience as a doctor. Her fingers moved to her stomach as she felt a light flutter, her baby making sure she knew she wasn’t alone. 

“You ready? You’re all set to get out of here and crawl back in bed,” as soon as he had stepped back into the room, Alex laced his fingers with Jo’s and squeezed her hand reassuringly. 

“I don’t want to go home,” Jo shook her head, eyes moving to Alex’s as she took a deep breath. “I don’t want to go back to sleep in my bed. Please.”

“Okay, I won’t take you home,” Alex pulled Jo up and into his chest, one arm wrapping around her shoulders as they walked out of the ER. 

The constant comfort of Alex’s skin against hers is the only thing that keeps Jo stable as he drives away from the hospital. One hand is on the steering wheel but the other is still grasping tightly to Jo’s hand. She thinks he knows how calming his presence is, how at ease he makes her feel when everything around her is uncertain. He’d never say anything but she knew that he could read her thoughts so clearly. 

They pull up outside of an apartment complex just a few blocks from the loft. Jo realizes then that she’s never been to Alex’s apartment, she’s never had a reason to before now. She lets him lead her inside and upstairs, opening the front door of the small one bedroom apartment. There’s still boxes around the living room, some she’d even packed herself in her haste to get rid of anything that reminded her of Alex. 

His hand is on her back as she walks into his bedroom, an empty shell of a room besides the bed frame, bedside table and dresser. Jo takes in the two pictures on the nightstand, the first is of Alex sandwiched between two young children that she knows to be his kids, all three wearing matching crooked smiles. The second is an all too familiar picture frame wrapped up with a red bow. She knows if she looks on the back of it that she’ll see her own handwriting penned in gold ink, but she doesn’t dare to do this now. Instead she settles herself on the edge of the bed, watching silently as Alex kicks his shoes off into the corner of the room before gently removing her own slippers and placing them next to his. 

“You can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch,” Alex’s voice snapped Jo out of her daze, her fingers reaching back out to him as he moved away from her. She doesn’t say anything as she wraps herself in his covers, staring up at him silently and waiting for him to join her.

When he finally does climb into bed Jo waits a moment before curling her body around his, her fingers clutching his shirt tightly. It’s not until Alex’s fingers brush across her stomach that she breaks down, letting her sobs fill the air as he holds her close. She’s relieved, of course she is, but she doesn’t think she’s let her emotions properly air out. So she cries and she lets herself be vulnerable in Alex’s arms and for just a few hours, everything seems like it’s going to be okay.