#he's crawling in bed next to you with a halfhearted sigh and letting you tug him close

[meownotgood]

Hiii! Can I have some thoughts on aki caring for a sick reader? I've got a fever since yesterday but I still have do get a lot of work done in the computer, so my head hurts and I feel like crap... I want aki hugs...

yes of course!!! I'm so sorry you aren't feeling well :(

aki is the first to notice you're sick out of anyone. even if you try to claim you're fine, he's ushering you to bed and telling you to get some rest. he'll place his hand on your forehead and take your temperature, telling you see, you have a fever, I knew it.

you absolutely won't be allowed to work as long as he's there, he'll make sure you're getting all the proper rest you need. you find it hard to deny him though when he's placing a cold washcloth on your head and handing you a warm bowl of soup, promising to come and check on you every hour.

[1kook]

taehyung + brother’s best friend pls yami i beg of thee 😵‍💫

why da hell this get so long

Taehyung comes up with the code.

Your brother is home for the summer, spends all his time lounging around the living room and bothering you every chance he gets. Up until recently, he spent the last few months off on the other side of the country attending grad school for some fancy degree you don’t understand. And while you may have missed his presence in your everyday life, his appearance back home cuts greatly into the amount of time you get to spend with Taehyung. You know, your brother’s best friend.

(It’s messy.)

“Just tell him you’re going for a run,” Taehyung had suggested, his face tiny on your phone screen. He’s standing some feet away from his own phone, patting in his moisturizer fresh out of the shower. He looks good, ridiculously sexy with his towel clinging to his waist. You‘re practically drooling at the sight.

Normally, you’d take the opportunity to rope him into some well-deserved phone sex— FaceTime sex, where he groans and grunts all while showing you his pretty cock squeezed between his fist—because you’re off work today, your parents are out on a date, and Taehyung’s rich dad and only roommate spends most of his time traveling overseas. But with your brother home, you have this totally rational fear that he’ll hear you. Even worse, walk in on you. Which is super embarrassing in itself, but even more terrifying when you consider the fact he’d also be hearing his best friend of two decades, Kim Taehyung, orgasming over the line.

Yeah, it’s a huge risk.

“I don’t go on runs,” you huff, freely letting your eyes wander over the length of Taehyung’s body. Even this FaceTime call is risky; while you and your brother’s best friend aren’t strangers, you weren’t exactly this close when he left. Your headphones are securely pushed into your ears, your entire body on high alert for even the most subtle creaking of the floorboards. “But I really wanna see you.”

By now, Taehyung’s finished with his post-shower routine, leaning against the bathroom counter to level you with a gentle smile. “Then come see me, doll,” he smiles, and you’re very weak. Powering through the nerves, you slip on the sportiest, I’m-going-for-a-run outfit you can find, sending Taehyung a kiss over the phone before hanging up.

As predicted, your brother is occupying the living room couch, watching some boring TV show when you get there. At the sight of you, his face scrunches up in confusion. “Where are you going?” he asks.

You shrug, casually stuffing your keys into the pocket of your shorts. “For a run,” you respond, just as Taehyung had told you to.

Your brother scoffs. “Since when do you run?”

Which is exactly why you thought it wouldn’t work! Your heart hammers in your chest, and as much as you want to give up and crawl back to your room, you push on. Taehyung’s wet hair and soft smile are calling your name. You steel your nerves, offering him a halfhearted shrug as you approach the front door. “Well, y’know.”

And then, just as you said, you go for a run. You practically bolt over the front yard, taking off like an Olympic champion in the direction of Taehyung’s house before your brother can prod any further. He only lives a few blocks away, part of the reason he’s been your brother’s best friend for so long, but the distance feels like nothing as you sprint on with the vigor of a horny woman craving her lover.

Taehyung opens the door with a laugh. “Wow,” he says, welcoming you into his arms despite the sweat glistening on your skin. “You actually went for a run.”

Gasping for air, you barely manage to snap, “shut up.”

He doesn’t mind, just ushers you inside and helps you out of your shoes. Taehyung is wearing clothes now, which really puts a damper on the dripping wet, post-shower image of him that had fueled you on your way here. But you comfort yourself with the fact he’ll probably be naked again soon.

Real soon.

Five minutes later finds the two of you languidly kissing on his bed, clothing haphazardly kicked away. Taehyung’s skin is still warm, super soft from his shower. You can’t get enough of him, running your hands over every inch of his body. He chuckles, muffling the sound against your neck. “I’m right here,” he mumbles, pressing kisses against your skin.

And he is, which is way better than over the phone. Nude and horny, he sits up and helps guide you between his legs, has you kneel in front of him. Taehyung’s cock is just as lewd in real life, his tip engorged and red, dripping with pre-cum that coats your fingers when you reach for him. He likes to give and receive in equal parts, pops his fingers into his mouth and then into your throbbing entrance. “Oh,” you sigh, back jolting as he works his digits in.

“Oh,” he repeats, a playful jab that you can’t even scold him for. As your hand trails down the length of his cock, his fingers push deeper inside, picking up a fast-paced rhythm that sends pulses of ecstasy throughout your body. He draws you along until you’re just at the edge, rubbing his thumb along your clit as you weakly buck into the touch. “Condom,” he husks, and you scramble to get it from his nightstand drawer, tremble so much that he eventually takes it away. “Cute,” Taehyung chuckles, helping position you over him as he slips into the rubber. “Go on, doll.”

The sweat you amassed on the run over to Taehyung’s house is nothing compared to the sweat that drips down your skin when you begin riding him. It runs between your breasts and down your spine in long trails, not that you particularly care as you bounce away on his lap. Taehyung looks delectable beneath you, head propped against one arm as he watches you work for it. His hair is fluffy from his shower— which you realize was pointless now —and covers his forehead. “That’s it,” he pants, his other hand on your waist, guiding your hips over him.

“Tae,” you gasp, hands propped behind you, palms against the top of his thighs as you roll ur hips over him. Your thighs ache from the run and from the bouncing, a searing pain running along the length of your muscles. “I— help, please,” you whine, shuddering after a particularly heavenly grind of his cock against your walls.

“Sure thing,” he hums, reaching for you with both hands only to tug you closer onto his lap. Your walls clench around him, suck him in further and tighter as your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Ha— cute,” Taehyung says, never mind the fact you’re sweating like a pig at a summer fair.

Your pussy squelches with each of Taehyung’s upward thrusts, but it’s not the only part of you that is slippery and wet. The spot behind your knees is absolutely sweaty, as is the nape of your neck. “S- Sorry,” you manage to stammer, repositioning yourself so your hands are against Taehyung’s abdomen now, crying out at the way his tip grinds against your sweet spot. “I’m s- so sweaty.”

At that, Taehyung laughs. “Just a little,” he says, but you know he’s embellishing the truth. He’s always been like this, even when you were kids. Even when you were just his best friend’s crybaby little sister, he was always quick to make you feel better. Beneath you, Taehyung groans, smile momentarily slipping as he loses himself in the feeling. It motivates you to do more, purposefully tightening around him just so he can feel the drag of your folds against his cock.

You come soon enough, spasm and cry out his name in an airy voice that makes Taehyung grin. He follows quietly, just locks up and then busts into the condom. He’s always extra caring and doting after sex, drowns you in a sea of kisses and cuddles as you calm your racing heart. “I need a shower,” he sighs, and throws you a goofy smile, “again.”

You sit up. “Lemme join yo—“

“Nope,” Taehyung announces, slipping out from beneath his sheets. Buck naked and handsome, you nearly miss his next words. “You just went on a run, remember?”

[moririki]

⤷ AN EIGHT-LEGGED PROBLEM

OIKAWA TOORU & SAKUSA KIYOOMI & HAIBA LEV & MIYA ATSUMU X READER -> 1.8K
you save your boyfriend from a massive problem which is currently in the corner of your bathroom )

REQUEST -> n/a
CONTAINS -> spiders, bugs, you picking up said creepy crawlies, hq boys being no! help! at! all! (but that's ok bc we love them for it), fanon-ish sakusa cos i haven't read the manga and he had like 5 seconds of screen time so i'm just going off of what i've read + seen, clear favouritism despite the fact that i know basically nothing about sakusa, manga timeskip spoilers in sakusa's
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> haven't seen one where the reader is the one in the relationship who takes care of bugs so since i'm a #girlboss who throws spiders out of my room whenever i see them without breaking a sweat i'm writing that into a fun lil thing with the haikyuu boys that i strongly believe are scared of bugs. also besides the point but look at the pretty colour palette that their banners make fjfjfjdj will go back to writing the requests after this! inspiration just struck

❍ OIKAWA TOORU

-> omg this fucking guy

-> don't let his pride fool you this man HATES bugs with a burning passion

-> he'll never admit it though

-> between you and the aoba johsai team he would never hear the end of how the great king oikawa would cower at the sight of a moth doing laps around a lightbulb

-> so when you pretended not to hear the shriek that left your boyfriend when he saw something flying around the bathroom light and he declined your offer to get rid of the moth for him, this left oikawa in a pretty difficult situation

-> it was just him alone in the bathroom, trying to brush his teeth while eyeing the bug warily

-> you came in a few minutes later, getting ready to go to bed as well

-> "you know, babe, that moth's been there for quite a while," you teased him

-> oikawa hummed in response, his eyes never leaving it as it continued its circumnavigation of the light fixture

-> "oh, you know. who am i to kick someone out of their home? i'm no monster"

-> you almost snorted at how poor of an excuse that was, but ruffled your boyfriend's hair anyway

-> "i'll take care of it, ru, you just finish getting ready"

-> "but y/n-chan, that moth has feelings! don't be mean to it!"

-> you gave tooru a very blank stare at that

-> "so do you want me to leave you alone with your new friend?"

-> "......no"

-> "that's what i thought"

-> you went up to the moth, managing to trap it in your hands before releasing it from a window

-> oikawa shuddered as you came back to the sink, giving your hands a quick rinse before resuming with brushing your teeth like nothing had happened

-> "you're so brave, my love"

-> "anything for you, babe"

❍ SAKUSA KIYOOMI

-> bless this poor boy

-> so it's no secret that sakusa isn't the fondest of germs

-> and that extends to bugs and spiders too

-> besides a normal amount of disgust that he held for them, the thought of where the insects had been or placed one of their many feet on never failed to make his skin crawl

-> that's where you, his wonderful significant other, comes in

-> as much as he loves you, he just can't understand how you always stared at bugs with wonder in your eyes

-> you'd even pick them up, cooing at the way they crawled up your arm while sakusa just stared at you in disbelief with a can of bug spray in hand

-> tonight was one of those swelteringly hot summer nights

-> you know, the ones where the air seems to be still no matter how many windows you open and every insect in a mile radius is actively trying to enter your home

-> you were spending the night at your boyfriend's apartment, ready to have a relaxing night in with him since your schedules had finally synced up and allowed you both to enjoy a day off at the same time

-> it took months of trust before sakusa finally admitted to you how much he enjoyed doing skincare

-> so whenever you two spent the night together, you decided to start the evening with some face masks and idle binging of a tv show

-> against his half-hearted protests, you had insisted that sakusa wore a headband while this happened (one that had a very cute duck face printed on it)

-> just to keep the curls out of his face, of course

-> whenever he caught you sneaking a candid of him with facemask and duck headband on, he just shot you a halfhearted glare and threatened you to never send that to atsumu or the rest of the msby team

-> (you set it as your home screen instead)

-> anyways, i digress

-> so tonight you decided to cool down from the heat with a few facemasks and cuddling in your boyfriend's heavily air conditioned living room

-> but he kept all his skincare stuff in the bathroom, so you went to go get them as he set up a show to watch along with some snacks

-> you flicked on the light, going to his cabinet when something in the corner of the room caught your eye

-> there was a fairly large spider, desperately trying to crawl up the smooth tile wall

-> you decided to take pity on it and release it

-> but when you had it cupped safely in your hands, you decided to terrorise your poor boyfriend just a little

-> "hey, omi, look what i found!"

-> your boyfriend perked up at your signature nickname for him, though his eyes narrowed as he saw your clasped hands held in front of you

-> "no"

-> "but baby, you haven't even seen-"

-> "no"

-> you giggled at how defensive he had become

-> "come on, don't you want to name it? it's very cute"

-> "i want you to throw it out, y/n"

-> "alright, alright"

-> you took the spider to a window, releasing it back outside before heading back to the bathroom and grabbing a few masks for real this time

-> sakusa gave you the cold shoulder as you sat down next to him, humming as you gave him a face mask and putting it on without a word

-> "aww, baby, i'm sorry"

-> "..."

-> "i'll give you a head massage if you stop ignoring me?"

-> sakusa turned to you, his eyes narrowed in thought as he stared you down

-> the act soon broke, though, and he smiled against the sheet mask that was on his face

-> "it better be a good one," he huffed as he tugged the duck headband off, already sighing at the sensation of your fingers against his scalp

-> "omi, come on, what do you take me for?"

❍ HAIBA LEV

-> ngl lev gives off equal amounts of being terrified of like the tiniest spider or just finding bugs insanely cool vibes

-> it's funnier to imagine this 6-foot-something guy scramble away from a fucking crane fly in terror though so this is how it's going to play out

-> when you invited your giant of a boyfriend to your flat, you didn't anticipate just how small he made everything appear

-> he even towered in your doorway, having to stoop to step through into your hall

-> "woahh, i love your place!"

-> it was his first time staying over for the night, and lev was making sure to drink in every aspect of your interior design

-> you found it sweet of him, and watched as he stared in wide-eyed wonder at the little trinkets you had collected over the years to make your small apartment seem more like a home

-> you didn't expect him to scream at the top of his lungs and practically run back to you, though

-> you jumped at the sound, watching as he scrambled away from your lamp and pointed back at it with a shaking finger

-> you squinted at it, making out the very menacing form of a crane fly as it bumped into the lampshade and continued on its path

-> "lev, you big baby," you giggled, heading to the kitchen to grab a glass and trap it

-> "y/n, don't leave me alone with it!" he yelped, and you rolled your eyes at his antics

-> you came back, smoothly capturing the insect and throwing it out of a nearby window

-> lev was sat on your couch the whole time, hands covering his eyes as he curled in a ball

-> "is it gone?" he asked, and you you giggled at how childlike he was acting at the moment

-> "it's all good, baby" you smoothed his hair and lev gratefully leaned into your touch, a sigh of relief leaving him

-> "thank you, y/n"

-> "i'll get rid of all the bugs in the world for you, lev"

❍ MIYA ATSUMU

-> gives off the vibes that he used to eat bugs as a child i'm sorry but

-> have mercy on his soul lmao

-> so twins are supposed to be identical right?

-> anyone who spends more than a few minutes around the miya twins know that that's a complete fucking lie

-> and you've had the misfortune of being friends with them for a very long time

-> like your mums were friends and you were all born around the same time

-> you've been pulled into their shit before you could walk or talk

-> so you're well aware of just how different these mfs are

-> even though they were both absolute bastards, osamu always had a slightly more mellowed out approach which would always end up with atsumu getting the blame for what they got up to

-> especially as a child, osamu loved to terrorise his twin with the unwilling help of you

-> one of the ways was through osamu exploiting one of his twins' fears

-> that being bugs and spiders

-> he always cackled at the sight of atsumu screaming and trying to run away from him due to the spider he was holding

-> as they both grew up, this became less of a frequent thing for osamu to do

-> you also somehow started dating atsumu, but nobody could exactly pinpoint a moment that signified a beginning to your relationship

-> but since you're dating the world's biggest manchild in disguise, and osamu gets annoyed with atsumu quite easily, you would have to swoop in to rescue him from time to time

-> recently the twins had been getting a little snappy with each other, and it had yet to sort itself out

-> from what you had heard your boyfriend was in the wrong this time, but you still listened to him whine and rant about it

-> you were going to the inarizaki school gym to say hi to your boyfriend and best friend before practice started, only to see absolute chaos unfolding

-> with kita yet to arrive, the twins were effectively unleashed and that much was clear with the way atsumu was practically screaming his head off as he ran around the gym

-> your eyes took in the rest of the players- aran had his head in his hands, suna was snickering with his phone out to record the newest miya twin fight, and osamu's deranged laugh could be heard above everything else as he chased his brother, hand held out in front of him

-> only one thing was capable of making atsumu scream like that, so you already knew what was happening

-> atsumu quickly spotted you hovering in the doorway, and made a beeline to where you were

-> his eyes were panicked, and you were quick to wrap him in a hug as you shot osamu a nasty glare over his shoulder

-> literally this lmfao

-> "that's enough, 'samu"

-> your best friend paused, before a smile spread across his face as he dangled the centipede in front of him

-> "you know it was rubber, right?"

-> you felt your boyfriend tense in your arms and you bit your lip to stifle a small giggle

-> but at least they would be back to normal by the end of today

back to the menu - ,, 🕷 ·˚ ༘ ꒱

[beneathstarryskies]

Hell Doesn’t Freeze

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x Adelaide Swanson (OC)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut 

Summary: When Thomas Shelby shoots Alfie Solomons, that was supposed to be the end. Adelaide Swanson has to pick up the pieces of her life after losing the seemingly unstoppable gangster. 

A/N: See, I told you I write more than just Star Wars. 

No matter how careful Alfie tries to be, as soon as his warmth recedes, Adelaide's sleepy hands search for him. Most mornings it doesn’t take her long to fall back to sleep, but this morning she doesn’t give up her search for him. Her green eyes crack open a bit to watch Alfie as he pulls on his trousers.

“Will you please come back to bed?” She asks, her voice is still raspy from sleep.

“I’d love to. I can’t,” he answers.

She lets out a heavy sigh, “Please.”

He sits on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots. The morning light shines across the floor in golden streaks. He feels the blankets shift as she pushes them off of her. Without looking he knows she’s crawling across the bed, and a small smirk plays on his lips. She wraps her arms around him. Her hands come to rest on his chest, and she pushes her legs around his waist.

“Stay,” she mutters as her head rests on his back. He brings her hands up to his mouth to place soft kisses along her fingertips.

“You make it fuckin’ hard to resist you sometimes,” he chuckles.

“Then don’t,” she suggests. “You deserve to stay in bed.”

Hesitant hands continue reaching for him as he stands up. He strokes his beard as he attempts to remember exactly what he was doing.

“What’s gotten into you?” He smirks.

“I want you to stay in bed,” she pouts. Her hands find him and she attempts to tug him towards her once again. He leans down and leaves a soft kiss on her lips.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promises before finishing up the buttons on his shirt.

She sits on her knees in the middle of the bed watching him with her arms crossed. While he finishes getting dressed, it takes a great deal of effort not to surrender to her pouting.

Adelaide doesn’t usually make much of a fuss about wanting his attention. She lets him come and go as his work requires. Having a few more moments of his attention isn’t unfair of her to ask, it’s not possible today. There’s too much going on that she would only worry about if he told her.

He doesn’t want her to worry about him. In fact that was one of the reasons he’d taken so long to engage in a relationship with her, and why they’re still not married. Alfie fights his guilt every day, although he never voices it. Adelaide is a smart girl, but she's not great at thinking of her own well being. It would be easy for her to marry some boring man with money rather than shacking up with a dangerous gangster. He feels selfish for not wanting to break things off, yet he still hopes she’ll see the time she wastes with him on her own. He pushes the guilt down when she lets out a deep sigh that catches his attention.

“You’re being a brat,” he teases.

She smiles now, “I know. I thought it would work.”

He sits down beside her on the bed, and places a scratchy kiss on her cheek. She lets out a sigh knowing that she’s defeated.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he cups her cheek and turns her face towards him. She waits for him to say something else, but he doesn’t. His eyes seem to be studying her face.

She raises an eyebrow before closing the space between them to pull him into a kiss. For a moment he sinks into her touch, her fingers move to caress his beard before moving to tangle in his hair. She’s almost won her cause when her tongue teases between his lips. Alfie forces himself to pull away from her.

“I’ve gotta go,” he whispers.

“Fine,” she sighs. “It’s for the best. Jane is coming for tea.”

“She fuckin’ hates my guts,” he laughs as he stands up. “Alright, I’ve gotta go love.”

“Be safe,” she tries to smile as he leaves the bedroom, but it's a halfhearted attempt at best.

She hears him summon his dog, Cyril. She hears the two of them walk down the stairs, followed by the sound of the front door closing.

***

Adelaide isn’t sure whether her chest hurts from stress or the cold air hitting her as she stands on the front porch.

“Alfie’s dead,” the words fell off her lips in a whisper. She thought saying them aloud would help her mind wrap around the meaning. Instead a choked laugh follows them.

The poor boy tasked with delivering the news to her looks down at his feet while toying with his hat. He's avoided making eye contact the whole time. She watched the bony fingers tug at a loose string on the hat. The punchline to what she assumed to be a terrible joke never came in the silence that follows.

“You’re not joking,” she whispers finally.

The boy shakes his head, “I’m afraid not.”

“What happened?” She asks finally.

“Thomas Shelby shot him,” the poor boy finally delivers the punchline. As soon as she thought there wasn’t one, here it comes.

She should’ve been able to guess it would be Thomas-fucking-Shelby. Ever since Thomas and Alfie met, the two were always at odds. Yet no matter how much she loved Alfie, she couldn’t deny that he betrayed Thomas on whims. It was inevitable that one of them would kill the other eventually. Things could never go on as chaotic as they’d been.

“Who sent you?” She asks, not sure why it was important to her.

“Mr. Shelby,” the boy looks down. “He wanted to make sure you didn’t hear it in an unpleasant way.”

Adelaide laughs bitterly, “This is pleasant, of course.”

“Addie, the tea is getting cold,” Jane calls from the living room.

“I am sorry for interrupting your tea,” the boy says, still avoiding her eyes.

“It’s not the tea I’ll be mourning,” she whispers.

She closes the door before the boy can say anything else. Her heart pounds as she walks back towards the living room. Jane still sits on the sofa with her legs crossed.

“You should go,” Adelaide’s voice is tense as she tries to keep hold of her own emotions.

“What’s wrong?” Jane asks.

“Alfie is dead,” Adelaide answers finally. "Shot.”

She can see the mixed emotions in Jane’s eyes. Jane and their mother were never approving of Adelaide’s relationship with Alfie. He was a brash criminal who lacked the kind of dignity they respected. Simply being connected to him put Adelaide in danger. Perhaps the most pertinent issue in the eyes of their mother at least, was the lack of marriage. Jane looks down at her hands, obviously unsure of what to say about the situation. She’d never had much affection for Alfie, and had often spoken of the day danger caught up to him.

“You should leave,” Adelaide tells Jane before turning to walk up the stairs.

Jane’s footsteps follow her up the stairs, “Addie, please talk to me about it.”

“I just need to be alone,” Adelaide insists as she closes the bedroom door.

“Okay, well, I am at least going to stay over.”

“Whatever you want, just leave me alone.”

She sits down on the bed. Her fingers trace over the sheets where he had slept beside her just last night. The smell of him still lingers, but she knows within the next night it will be gone.

The strength she’d attempted to display begins to disappear as she wraps herself in the blankets. She pulls his pillow against her, and buries her face into it. She breathes him in, and then releases the breath in a muffled scream. Her rage and pain finally released from her tightened chest. The pillow catches the tears she lets freely fall, her body shaking uncontrollably now.

The memories of their last night together play over in her mind. The feelings of his beard scratching against her skin while kissing his way down her body. His beard always left her skin red and sensitive for the warm touches to come. His strong, rough hands clinging to her hips with each thrust. His breath warm against her skin while asking her if anyone else could ever make her feel so good. Seeking approval from her as though he ever truly needed approval from anyone. She tries again to push the memories out of her mind, but they keep coming like the tide.

She remembers feeling as though something was off with him, but not knowing if it was good or bad. He’d been slower to argue with her than usual. His hands were more tender, his lips taking more time to taste her. He’d taken great care to leave a mark between her breasts. He took his time. In the bath his hoarse voice whispered how much he loved her. Then this morning, he’d been so soft. Usually Alfie had a tendency for impatience, she’d never imagined him letting her be a brat for so long.

Did he somehow know?

In the coming weeks, she would find herself becoming more and more overwhelmed. Visits by a series of shady lawyers detailing the money he’d left for her dragged on. Often with insulting offers of advice on how a young unwed woman would be able to keep such a fortune. As though she would be foolish with the money, as though there was much to be foolish with. It takes ages for her to finally sign the paperwork. If he’d been around to hear some of the comments made, his hands would stay covered in blood. Luckily, she discovered he did have his affairs in order. It’d be foolish to be in his line of work with his penchant for making enemies to not. Despite seeming not to fear death, he at least made sure everything was ready for when it finally found him.

Jane had been eager to help settle everything. Adelaide knows that to Jane this was a welcome ending to a relationship that should’ve never been. Their mother felt much the same way about it, although when Alfie was alive they’d never said so. They were afraid of him and afraid for Adelaide. She’d never been afraid with him, but she finds herself being afraid now.

She’s afraid of how quickly the world moved on. How little his death affected everyone who wasn’t her. His crew fell in with other gangs if they could, but many dispersed to find legal work. The Peaky Blinders began taking even more of a role in things, spreading like a virus now that Alfie is gone. She could spot them everywhere now.

Truthfully she was starting to wonder if he’d ever existed outside of her own imagination.

***

Alfie Solomons is not a man prone to feelings or acts of tenderness. His demeanor almost always resembles the slumped posture of a mad dog ready to attack. Words fall from his lips in a gruff tone, often spaced out with curses. He commits acts of brutality with such nonchalance it’s shocking even to him at times. There was never much of a reason for him to be in touch with any kind of feelings. Yet when he wakes up at Margate, his first thoughts are of Adelaide. He mutters her name softly, only to be told by the doctor that there’s no one named Adelaide present.

“She is home,” Alfie mutters. “At home. I need…protect her.”

“You won’t be going anywhere for a while I am afraid,” the doctor says before injecting Alfie with a sedative.

“Where’s my fucking dog?” Alfie asks, “Take my dog home.”

“There’s no dog,” the doctor says before Alfie’s eyes close again.

He forgets he’s been shot as his dreams take him back to their bedroom. The smell of lavender surrounds him as he sees her walk across the room with a small smile on her full lips. She’s wearing that blue silk robe he loves so much. She sits down on the edge of the bed beside him, and her hands rest on his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Alfie whispers. “I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve stayed with you.”

She lets out a chime of a laugh. Her freckled nose crinkles as she shakes her head, “Did Alfie Solomons just apologize? Has Hell frozen over?”

Everything starts blurring around the edges. Her features begin disappearing a bit at a time. He reaches for her, to keep a hold of the dream.

“I’ve gotta go love,” she echoes the last words he said to her.

Everything disappears. He assumes this is Hell, and it’s not quite frozen.

***

Adelaide Swanson,

I am coming into London on Friday afternoon. While I know I am likely the last person you ever want to speak to, we need to talk. It’s very important that we do so in person. I won’t bring anyone else with me, and I trust you will not alert anyone. We need to talk about Alfie.

-Thomas Shelby

Dear Mr. Shelby,

There’s no reason to worry about an ambush. If I see you, I will shoot you myself.

Sincerely,

Adelaide Swanson

PS. Where is Cyril?

Ms. Swanson,

I will be arriving at the house at 5:30. I do ask for at least ten minutes of your time before you begin shooting.

-Thomas Shelby

 PS. Cyril is safe and sound.

Thomas Shelby arrives at exactly 5:30 as promised. He knocks on the door. As he waits for an answer he finishes off his cigarette, and then takes off his hat. Through the window he sees her coming down the stairs. Adelaide’s green eyes are cold when she opens the door.

Alfie had spoken of her before, when they’d been a couple drinks in and both let their guard down. He’d said she was beautiful, but Thomas is still surprised by how beautiful. She looks younger than Alfie, but there’s no signs of naivety in her eyes. Knowing Alfie's disposition made it easy to assume she had to at least be rough around the edges, and a bit scarred. Yet, she looks like a banker’s wife.

“I suppose threats don’t work on a man like you,” she quips.

“Not much.”

She moves to allow him inside. There are boxes spread out throughout the house.

“Don’t mind the mess,” she says before closing the door. “I’m moving.”

“Were you evicted?” He asks.

“No. I can’t stand staying here without him.”

“Been getting the money I sent?”

She laughs, “Yeah. I’ve been getting it.”

A small table in the corner of the living room has three envelopes containing checks from Thomas. She points to it and then shrugs.

“I don’t need your money, Mr. Shelby. Alfie made sure I had enough money. Although having him here would be better,” she sits down in the only chair in the living room. She lights a cigarette. “Your ten minutes has started, by the way.”

Thomas smirks, there’s that toughness he’d been expecting. She takes a deep drag off the cigarette while she waits for him to begin speaking. He notices the gun sitting on the mantle.

“I received a letter from Alfie,” Thomas explains. “Apparently, he’s not a man who is easy to kill. I shot him in the head, and yet he wrote me a letter wanting me to bring his dog to Margate.”

Adelaide’s face goes pale, “You’re lying.”

“I’m afraid not.” He pulls the envelope out of his jacket, and passes it to her. She takes the letter from him, eagerly reading Alfie’s scrawled handwriting. She’s careful not to get her hopes up too much at first.

“Listen, you shouldn’t tell anyone he’s alive. Nobody needs to know, but I thought you should.”

Thomas turns to leave when tears begin rolling off her cheeks. He knows better than to attempt to comfort her.

“Thank you,” she says before he walks out the door.

***

Adelaide goes to the address on the front of the envelope. Her heart pounds as she stands in front of the door. She doesn’t know what she’s more afraid to discover he’s alive or to find that she’s been led astray. If he’s alive, she must deal with why he never reached out. If he’s not alive, she has to be afraid of why Thomas would lead her here.

She knocks on the door three times. There’s a bit of silence before an older woman answers the door. She’s wearing a uniform that shows she’s a maid.

“Hello, I’m looking for Alfie," Adelaide stammers.

“Is he expecting you?”

“Um,” she takes a shaky breath. “He's not.”

“Stay here,” the woman says before closing the door.

Adelaide moves to look into the window, and her heart pounds as spots him sitting in a chair by a window. Every nerve in her body springs into action. He’s reading a book, as usual. The maid whispers something to him, and he stands up in haste. Without caring anymore about politeness, she pushes the door open.

She collides with him in the landing below the stairs. Her arms wrapping around him. She buries her face against his chest, and takes deep breaths of his scent. His arms wrap around her. Sobs shake through her as the reality of Alfie being right here with her.

“I can’t believe it,” she sobs, “You’re alive. You’re here!”

“Listen, pet, I’m so happy to see you,” he responds. “But there’s a reason I haven’t reached out.”

She tries to lift her head to look at him, but his hand comes to rest on the back of her head to stop her.

“Don’t look at me,” he says in a harsh whisper. “I’m an ugly sight. I’m in a bad way.”

“Alfie, please.” she loosens her embrace and attempts to move away from him. He still holds her in place.

“Don't beg," he chuckles. "You'll regret seeing me this way." He moves his hand to cover her eyes before letting her stand up straight.

“Alfie, this is ridiculous. I’ve thought you were dead for so long. I want to see you.”

“No you don’t. You need to remember me for how I was. You know, back when I was pretty.”

She laughs, “When was that?”

“You think that’s funny, huh?”

“Of course.”

“Please Alfie,” she reaches up to move the hand covering her eyes, “Let me see you.”

He resists her attempts to move his hand from her eyes at first. No matter how much she loves him he knows there will be a look of fear or disgust on her face when she sees him. Half of his face is now scarred from Tommy’s gunshot. His eye took a good deal of damage, leaving it lifeless looking. He doesn’t know if he could deal with seeing her feelings change. Still, she tugs at his fingers. He lets his hand fall, but he looks down as he awaits her reaction.

She lets out a gasp, and he expects to hear her footsteps recede away from him. Instead she closes the gap, and places a soft kiss on his cheek. He’s still Alfie, and having learned what life is like without him she’s not picky on what condition she gets him back in. Her hands cup his before pulling him into a kiss.

He kisses her back, a hint of hesitation still lingering from him. Sure, right now she’s still happy to see him. But will she be willing to look at him day after day? He pushes this thought away as her hands soothe through his beard before coming to rest on his chest. He deepens the kiss, wanting to enjoy having her with him right now. Her tongue is silk against his. Their eagerness becomes more plain with each movement.

She pulls away with a small smirk, “So, what does a girl have to do to be shown the bedroom in this place?”

Their hands stay intertwined as he walks her up the stairs to his bedroom. Yet all she wants is to be close to him again. To soak in the presence she’s missed so much. Obviously none of this had anything to do with her, or else he would’ve turned her away at the door.

He leads her into a bedroom with a large bed in the middle. A few medicine bottles still sit on the nightstand. She releases his hand to walk around the room for a moment while pulling off her coat. He watches her, trying to decipher her thoughts.

Despite all the time he’s spent here, he’s done very little to make it feel personal. There’s a stack of books beside the bed. She inspects the bottles on the nightstand, noting they seem to all be pain medicine.

“Does it still hurt?” She asks.

He shrugs, “Not much. Hurt pretty bad at first.”

“Why didn’t you contact me?” She sits on the bed, and kicks off her shoes.

“I was hoping you might have moved on,” he sits down beside her, “Which it’s not too late for.”

She takes his hand and laughs. Her nose crinkles in that way he loves.

“It’s a bit late for all that,” she smirks.

“I’m serious, Addie. You don’t have to be with me anymore. I'm giving you an out,” he looks down at their intertwined fingers. Of course he wants her to leave and find someone else. Even more so, he wants her to stay with him.

“You know I’m not going to do that,” she insists.

“I know,” he smirks now. “I shouldn’t be glad, but I am.”

“I suppose I could be a bit angry at you though,” she leans over to kiss her cheek. “I suppose I would be if I hadn’t missed you so much.”

He pulls her onto his lap. She plants kisses along his cheeks before landing on his soft lips she’d missed so much. She loosen his shirt before starting on the buttons. He pushes up her dress, exposing her thighs. His hands rest on them as their lips continue moving together in harmony. It feels as though no time between them has passed. She could’ve just as easily spent the morning begging him to stay in bed, and he could’ve just arrived home. She pushes his shirt off his shoulders and tosses it to the side. Greed takes over as she moves her hands along his body, wanting to feel every inch of his skin beneath her hands. He lets out a groan when she grinds her hips against his crotch. She leans down to leave a trail of kisses along his collarbone and chest before standing up.

His eyes soak her in as she pulls her dress over her head. She stands before him in her slip and stockings. She begins rolling her stockings down her legs. She kicks them off to the side. Then she takes off the slip, and tosses it into the pile with the rest of the clothes. He reaches out to take her hands, and he pulls her back to him.

His calloused hands massage her breasts before moving along her abdomen. She closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling of his hands on her. She never thought he would touch her again, and now her emotions are threatening to spill. One of his hands slides between her thighs, teasing her clit before dipping into her wet entrance. She lets out a soft moan as he begins working her with his hands. His fingers pump in and out of her at an agonizing slow pace. He leaves soft kisses along her abdomen, his beard tickling her skin.

She opens her eyes again to look at him. Still she’s in awe that he’s actually here, her hands run through his soft hair. A tingling ball begins tensing in her core. Her fingernails scratch lightly against his scalp. His fingers recede from her, earning a soft whine from her lips. He grabs her waist and pulls her onto the bed. She lets out a surprised giggle, only to gasp when he buries his face between her thighs. His tongue circles her clit.

“Fuck, Alfie,” she moans.

“You taste as good as I remember,” he growls before returning to his ministrations.

His tongue continues on her clit while he dips his fingers back into her entrance. It doesn’t take long for her climax to begin building once again. Her toes curl as the tension in her core becomes almost unbearable as the pace of his fingers quicken. She grasps the sheets between her fingers as her orgasm shudders through her body. He continues fingering her and licking up her juices until the pulsing of her walls subsides.

“Fuck,” she whispers.

Alfie stands up to unbuckle his pants, finally releasing his hard cock. He kicks his pants to the side before crawling onto her, leaving a trail of kisses as he does so. She can taste herself on his lips when he kisses her.

He rubs the head of his cock against her wet slit. She raises her hips, urging him to enter her. He can’t help but find her eagerness amusing, as it’s never changed. He sits up on his knees between her thigh, a small smirk playing on his lips as he continues teasing her. She shifts to be closer to him, and lifts her hips again.

“How can you tease me so?”

“You make it so easy,” he smirks.

His eyes soak her in while his hands soothe along her abdomen. He traces his fingertips along the soft swell of her breasts. He teases her nipples between his fingers until they're hard and sensitive.

“Do you want me to beg?” She groans.

“Of course," he smirks.

One of his hands soothes along her neck feeling her heightened pulse beneath his fingers.

“Please,” she whines. “Please fuck me.”

With a satisfied smile he pushes inside of her, relishing the soft moan she lets out when he does so. He gives her a moment to adjust to him before pulling all the way out, then he thrusts inside of her. She holds onto him as he begins setting a faster pace, pulling him to be on top of her.

Both of them are feeling greedy for the other. Sloppy kisses press against any bit of bare skin within reach. Her fingernails dig into his back as his pace quickens. He becomes relentless in his thrusting. She whispers his name over and over, reminding herself he’s really there. His heart beats against her chest, and the moans coming from him fill her ears. Tears begin pricking her eyes. She becomes a bit overwhelmed with the mix of pleasure and emotions flooding her. He notices, and stops thrusting.

“What’s wrong?”

She smiles, “Nothing is wrong. I’m just happy. Please don’t stop.”

He shakes his head before capturing his lips with hers. He begins thrusting again. Their tangled lips move together in perfect synchronization as his thrusts begin getting faster. Her orgasm begins to build again in her core. He brings one of her legs around his waist so he can thrust even deeper inside of her.

“You feel so good,” he groans against her neck. “Such a good girl.”

He reaches down to stroke her clit in sloppy circles. It takes no time for this to push her over the edge, and the pulsing of her walls around him urges his climax along with her. They ride out the highs together with sloppy kisses and words of praise.

He moves to lie down beside her. She snuggles against his chest, her fingers tracing all the scars on his body while they lay in silence. The only thing she could hear was the sound of his breathing.

“I should’ve stayed with you that day,” he whispers. “And I should’ve contacted you. I’m a damn fool.”

She looks up at him, “Is that the beginning of an apology?”

He chuckles, “It’s as close as you’re getting.”

“Hm, so Hell isn’t frozen over yet.”

She rests her head back on his chest. Alfie runs his fingers through her red curls until he finds sleep tugging at the corners of his eyes. He waits until she’s asleep before he allows himself to give into his own sleepiness. For the first time in months, he doesn’t dream about missing her.

[let-me-love-you-loki]

In a Day or Two-Ch. 18

Chapter 18

           Kenny sat on the edge of the bed next to me just out of reach. He watched me with those blue-green eyes of his as if he could see right through me. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. And then…

           “I thought you’d like meeting the… meeting my friends,” he said almost too quiet to hear. He looked at his hands. “They’ve wanted to meet you for a while.”

           I bunched a pillow up in my lap and held onto it like a security blanket. “I did like meeting them. They were nice.” I breathed deeply to stop the tears before they could come. “Matt and Nick were great… they didn’t have to look after me like they did.”

           He nodded. “They’re my best friends. And they liked you.”

           I blinked, surprised at that. My stomach turned upside down as I tried to hold onto the tears. I didn’t want to cry in front of him, and I couldn’t understand why. He leaned closer, his fingertips settling against my ankle.

           “Koibito,” he said softly. “Why won’t you look at me?”

           My chest ached and I bit down hard on my lip to stop the sob growing inside me. I wanted to ask, but I didn’t know if I had the courage to deal with the answer. “Because it hurts.”

           He moved even closer, the hand on my ankle going to press gently on my cheek. I felt the gentle nudge of his fingers as he tried to lift my head to meet his eyes. “Shaye… talk to me. Please.”

           I couldn’t ignore the pleading in his voice. When I met his gaze, my vision blurred with tears. “I wish you looked at me the way you looked at Kota.” The words spilled out before I could catch them back. Part of me wanted to hate myself for the way he flinched as if he’d been struck. But I couldn’t help the fact that I was desperate to know what he would say.

           “Shaye,” his voice was desperate, breaking on my name as he crawled up the bed to sit knee-to-knee with me. “Kota isn’t…” He blinked, eyes filling with tears of his own. “Kota was a long time ago. You are right now.”

           “Am I going to be more than just right now, Kenny?” I asked pitifully. “Because you don’t look at Kota like it was a long time ago. You look at him like he’s everything to you.”

           He wrapped his fingers around my wrists and tugged me into his lap. For a moment, I tried to struggle out of his grasp, but I knew it wasn’t going to happen. He was stronger than me and, even though I was hurt beyond anything else I’d ever known, I wanted to be close to him. As if I could sense the end of this racing to a desperate and unhappy finish.

           Kenny pressed his forehead against mine and cradled the back of my head with his hand. “Kota was… I had a really hard time for a long time,” he explained softly, “about who I was. I uprooted my entire life because of Kota Ibushi. As far I was concerned, I was going to be the best wrestler in the world. And to be the best, I had to compete with the best—he was it. The first time we got in a match together… there was something there that I’d never been brave enough to acknowledge before. He… he let me be who I really was, and he loved me for it. I wouldn’t be who I am or where I am if it wasn’t for him.”

           I felt my heart breaking. Whether it was for him or for the shadow of what we had been or could be I didn’t know. Before I could take a breath to speak, Kenny went on.

           “My career is built on the time I spent with Kota Ibushi. Everything I am is because of him. I love… loved…” Kenny’s entire body shuddered as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me hard and fully against him. “I love him, Shaye. And I always will. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you."

           “Is it really love?” I murmured, hardly able to breathe in his desperate hold. “We both knew this was going to end.”

           “Don’t… please don’t say that…” he pled, carding his fingers through my hair, cupping my face in his hands. “I don’t want this to end. Is that what you want, koibito, watashinoie, watashi no kokoro?”

           I’d learned enough at last to know what he said. Sweetheart. My home. My heart. The words sliced straight to the center of me, carving themselves on the flesh of my heart. Tears slid down his face over cheeks that had gone faintly red. He looked miserable, his eyes glassy with tears, his brows knit together in desperation.

           “Please, Shaye,” he whimpered, sniffling. “I love you. I know it like I know my own mind.”

           Kenny went quiet, as if he’d poured out everything he could. Every part of me ached, inside and out, but I couldn’t speak. All I could do was wrap my arms around him and cradle his head against my shoulder as he cried. I let my fingers walk through his curls even as I finally let myself give over to my own sobs. He held me so tightly… as if he feared I would vanish… as if he was desperate for the connection to soothe his raw heart.

           The silence stretched out and, before we knew it, sleep pushed us over into a tangle on the mattress. We slept knotted around each other.

***

           There was a faint unease between us when we went downstairs the next morning. The ghost of Kota Ibushi still hovered over us, but in a very different way than before. Kenny stayed close to me, like he was waiting for me to bolt away. His fingers skimmed my arms and my back whenever he was near enough to touch me. The tenderness in those touches burned into my skin and right down into my bones. I held onto them, knowing my heart squeezed painfully, the air rushing out of my lungs, every time I thought about never feeling them again.

           The other members of the Bullet Club were already waiting in the lobby, standing in a loose circle. Nick smiled when we stepped off the elevator, and I waved good morning. He looked quickly between Kenny and me before turning to his brother. The two of them had a low conversation as we crossed the lobby. As we got closer, I noticed the shaggy chestnut hair that belonged to Kota Ibushi.

           He nodded his head at me, his dark gaze going immediately after to Kenny. I didn’t have to look up to know that they were watching one another. They were drawn together like magnets, and I was going to be torn apart by their orbit. Kenny’s hand swept flat onto the small of my back, thumb stroking a line up and down my spine.

           “How you feeling today, Shaye?” Nick asked when we got closer. “You good?”

           I smiled, though I knew it didn’t reach my eyes. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks again… for everything.”

           He pressed his lips into a thin line and gave me a jerky sort of nod. Then he turned away, something like hurt in his eyes.

           “I’m going to go see if they have any of that Vietnamese coffee,” I murmured against Kenny’s bicep. Before I could walk away, he leaned down and pressed a fleeting kiss to my hair.

           Matt dropped into the space beside me. “I heard coffee, so I’m following you,” he offered by way of explanation. “Seriously though, you okay?”

           I took a moment to think about it. My emotions were raw and brutal in a way that I’d never known before. The memory of Kenny holding me so desperately as he cried filled my thoughts. “I don’t know. Kenny and I… well, we talked. We ended up somewhere, I just don’t know where.”

           “Let me tell you something about Kenny,” Matt said gently. “He’s got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. And he loves… hard. There’s no halfway with him, Shaye. Even though it hurts him every single time, he goes all in with his heart.”

           “He told me about Kota. Some of it anyway.”

           Matt gave me a halfhearted smile, eyes still burning with pity. “That’s a long story to tell. It took him a long time to tell us all of it.”

           I stopped, a paper cup in my hand, thoughts of coffee forgotten for a moment. “Am I making a mistake, Matt? He says you’re his best friends—you and Nick—and you… I don’t think you sugar coat things for people. So tell me the truth. Am I making a mistake with Kenny?”

           He glanced back toward the huddled group. I followed his gaze to find Kenny talking with Kota. As if he knew I was watching, he looked up and gifted me with a sweet, hopeful smile. And, though he fell easily back into his conversation, he didn’t look away from us.

           “No,” he said after a moment. “No, I don’t think you are.”

           Matt and I got our coffee—his traditional American style, mine two cups of Vietnamese style—and walked together back to the group. The ache in my chest had eased a bit after talking with the oldest Buck. I didn’t know how to navigate the waters that awaited, but at least I wouldn’t be going through them alone.

           I handed one of the coffees to Kenny, lingering enough to feel our fingertips settle together as he took it. I sipped slowly at the sweet concoction as I listened to the faint buzz of the Bullet Club’s conversations. The sensation of being out of place began to creep in. I pushed it away, giving myself permission to just observe and learn about these people who meant so much to Kenny.

           He reached out, tangling his fingers with mine and pulling me in against his side. I found myself staring up at Kota, unsurprised to realize that he was more beautiful the closer he came. A faint sort of understanding settled in my bones. With his easy smile, I could see how Kenny had lost his whole heart to him. And finally watching them together, up close, without my panic threatening to drown me, I could see that the feeling was mutual.

           It took a moment for me to realize that Kota was looking at me. Not only was he looking at me, he was speaking to me.

           “I’m sorry,” I said embarrassingly. “I don’t speak…”

           “He said that you are prettier than I said,” Kenny translated, his blue eyes bright. I shook my head at Kota, knowing I looked shocked. The other man nodded and began speaking rapidly, still looking at me, entrusting that Kenny would translate. “He says that he’s sorry that he was rude at the match last night. And that he…”

           Kenny paused, blushing. Kota shifted his focus back to him and began to clearly urge him to continue translating. “Ibutan…” Kenny stammered, followed by a rapid string of embarrassed Japanese.

           “He says that he knows you are important to me...”

           “Anatanokokoroni,” Kota said, thumping Kenny in the center of his chest.

           Kenny sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “He says that he knows you are important to me… to my heart… and…” He broke off to whisper something in furious Japanese back to Kota and then turned back to me. He took a deep breath. “Kota says he knows how I feel about you and that… uh… he hopes you come to Japan often. So he can get to know you, too.”

           “Shaye-san,” Kota said, his voice almost as sweet as my coffee. He reached out, taking our entwined hand in his own. “Kentan.” He held our hands together, said something to Kenny, and stepped away, waving goodbye as he went.

[fragmentedink-archived]

Chapter Fourteen

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII

cowritten by @lux-scriptum  

A/N: no trigger warnings, but it is smaller than usual

The next day Nik was half sitting in bed, half laying, with Cameron curled up in his lap in his demonic form. But when he tried to move, Cameron growled at him and sunk his claws in Nik’s thigh in warning. Nik scoffed. “I need to get up.”

When Cameron just kept the low steady growl going, Nik sighed and settled back into the bed and brushed his thumb across Cameron’s ear. The growling stopped almost as easily as it started and the claws unhooked from Nik’s skin. Nik said, “I need to get us food. Don’t you want food? I want food.”

When Cameron just pressed his face under a paw, Nik sighed loudly. Right. He could feel Lev beside him, watching silently. Nik ran his fingers through Cameron’s thick, silky black fur debating how he was going to get up when Cameron was being unreasonable.

He groaned softly when he scented Cameron. There was a faint scent that Nik knew well enough as an alpha’s rut scent and it was still faint enough he knew it was at the beginning. “Are… you going to want to do anything?” Nik asked him. “You’re not going to be able to do anything as a fox.” Well. That wasn’t quite true, but-

When Cameron didn’t respond, Nik looked at Lev and at the small space between them. His instincts weren’t at the point he wanted Lev as far away from Cameron as possible, luckily, but it was still…. Too close. But not bad enough that he felt like Lev was a threat. “Are you hungry?” he asked Lev.

Lev pushed himself up into a sitting position and shrugged. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

Tequila, Nik thought. But he shook his head and said, “Coffee?”

Lev made a face that Nik chose to ignore. “Nothing else?”

“A blowjob would be nice,” he half joked. “But instead, maybe… some warmed up sweet bread? And some meat for Cameron if he will actually eat.” When Cameron didn’t respond Nik sighed. “Get some meat, I’ll get him to eat.”

“What kind of meat?”

“Uhm.” He looked down at Cameron. “Any preferences?” Once again Cameron offered no input. Nik rolled his eyes. “Some raw chicken breasts, I think. If he doesn’t like it he can suck it up.”

Nik watched Lev slip out of the bed and grab one of Nik’s band shirts from the half deconstructed nest and pulled it down over his head as he wandered through the door. When Lev disappeared, Nik looked down at Cameron sleeping in his lap. “Is this normal for you? Because I did not take your ruts to be this…” affectionate. But he wasn’t going to say that.

Either way, Cameron ignored him.

-----

It was weird, how empty the house was. Lev had gotten used to scooting around sentries, and avoiding eye contact. Now he was free to skitter down the halls without running into anyone.

To his surprise, there was a shattered plate in front of the fridge, and plastic wrap on the counter. Lev blinked at it for a moment, and then sighed. He wandered around until he found a broom, stepping carefully to keep from stepping on any stray shards. Once he’d swept the kitchen (three times), and tossed the wrapper away, he got the coffee going and pulled some chicken out of the fridge. As he went looking for the sweet bread, he wondered how exactly Cameron intended on cutting it into bites if he didn’t have paws to use a knife and fork. It didn’t really make any sense.

He turned back to the chicken, frowning at it. Alright, fine. Maybe he should cut it up for Cameron. It didn’t take long, anyway. After he scooped that into a bowl, and washed the knife and cutting board, he hunted down a tray. He was pretty sure Nik took his coffee black, which made his life easier, even if Lev was horrified deep down. The food got set up on the tray, and Lev dropped a box of strawberries on as well, because that was close enough to breakfast for now.

He slipped back to the bedroom carefully. Nik was still sitting there, Cameron in his lap, so Lev leaned across the ebd and set the tray down before he carefully crawled up after it. “I can go back for cream and sugar if you want?” He offered quietly.

Nik leaned over to take the coffee before Lev thought to hand it off. “No, it’s perfect.” He ignored Cameron’s halfhearted growl, taking a sip of the coffee.

Lev settled, cross legged and almost hunched as he frowned at Cameron. “Do- would you rather I go? I can sleep in my own room, if you’d rather. Bring you food when you need it?”

Nik considered that, continuing to drink his coffee as he slowly ran his hand down Cameron’s back. “No,” he said eventually. “Stay in here- on the couch? Maybe? Unless you want to go, but... I don't want you to go... far.”

Lev nodded. That was fair. He was still the outsider. Sort of. In the ways it mattered, anyway. With that in mind he leaned close long enough to kiss Nik softly, before scooting off the bed, taking the strawberries with him.

“Wait, don’t go. Stay on the bed. But. Not too close.”

Lev blinked. “You just told me to stay on the couch?” He asked, confused and hesitant.

“I said to sleep on the couch.”

Lev blinked again. “Oh.” He huffed softly as he scrambled up on the bed, and settled carefully on the edge, tucking his knees up so he could nibble on the strawberries.

While he ate, he watched Nik trying to coax Cameron to as well.

“Eat this stupid cubed meat you pretentious bastard.”

Well. Maybe less coaxing and more demanding. Lev paused with a strawberry halfway to his mouth, shocked. “Nik,” he admonished without thinking.

“I said it in a caring voice.” Nik looked down at Cameron. “Please eat your cubed meat, darling, so you don’t starve.”

Lev snorted. Still, he kept an eye on Cameron, curious to see if it worked. It didn’t. Cameron simply kneaded Nik’s leg with his claws. Lev winced in sympathy. He didn’t envy Nik that.

This time Nik sounded exasperated, and Lev didn’t blame him one bit. “You have to eat, Cam. Just a little bit. For me?”

Cameron sniffed at the meat, before lapping up a single cube.

“Should I try another kind of meat?” Lev offered.

“I think he’s just not hungry,” Nik said. “But... maybe?”

Cameron seemed unimpressed by their speculation. He simply curled up in a tight ball and went back to sleep. Lev frowned, but just unfolded. “Maybe later? I can go put that away for now. So it doesn’t go bad?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Nik said.

Lev leaned over, gathering up the bowl and his strawberries. “Want more coffee while I’m up?” When Nik just nodded, pressing a kiss to Cameron’s head, Lev took Nik’s mug while he was at it and scooted out of the room.

He took the time to scrub the floor. There was something, where the broken plate had been. Once he was satisfied with that, he poured Nik another mug and headed back. He walked around the bed to deliver the coffee, rather than risk dropping it on the bed; he was pretty sure Cameron would not like that at all, and Lev wanted to bask in the afterglow of his heat a little longer.

It was when he tried to climb on the bed on the opposite side that things went sideways. Things being Lev. He blinked up at the ceiling, startled and not entirely sure how he ended up there. The blanket tangled around his legs suggested he’d slipped.

He heard Nik chuckle a little, even as Nik leaned over to peer at him. “You okay down there?”

Lev rolled over, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I wasn’t paying attention.” He grimaced at Cameron as he settled on the bed. “I’m- yeah. Won't happen again.”

Cameron just blinked at him, but Nik snorted. “Sounds fake but okay.”

Lev made a face at him, and settled down a little further from the edge of the bed this time. He snuggled into the bed, tugging one of Cameron’s shirts close to bury his face in. “We just gonna nap today?”

“Yeah, I guess so. We need to get more electrolytes.”

“Hmm.” Lev nuzzled the shirt, and closed his eyes. “I’m a fan of the nap thing.” He opened one eye as Nik shifted around on the bed. Cameron curled into Nik the moment Nik was settled, pressing his face into Nik’s chest.

Nik pet Cameron absently. “Naps are nice. Not as good as dick, but definitely nice.”

Lev snorted softly. “You’d think after the last two weeks...” He hid his smile in the shirt, humming.

Cameron gave an irritable yip. Lev burrowed deeper taking that as a not-so-subtle hint to shut up and go to sleep himself.

---

A few days later and Nik had barely gotten Cameron to eat at all. Lev had gotten all kinds of meat in different cuts, cooked, not cooked, but Cameron barely touched any of it and kept sleeping. Nik had tried bullying him into eating, but Cameron just blinked unnervingly unimpressed at him and didn’t budge an inch. Nik was going to play dirty before Cameron dropped dead from starvation.

When Cameron didn’t budge, Nik slipped them both from the bed and started for the kitchen. The moment his feet had hit the floor Cameron hissed irritably and Nik felt the small, needle sharp claws poke his skin. Nik grimaced. “You should have eaten your food, now you’re going to be treated like a child.”

He heard Lev follow them and moved over so that Lev could walk next to him. When Lev was in step, Nik took the turn into the kitchen, letting Lev turn on the lights while he sat the fuming fox down on the counter. Cameorn didn’t even bother glowering at him, and just curled tightly in place closing his eyes. He forced the worry off his face and looked at Lev who was settled on the counter next to Cameron, but far enough away that he wouldn’t get claws dug into his skin.

The longing on Lev’s face was plain as day as he looked down at Cameron sleeping, fingers curled in his lap tight enough Nik knew he wanted to touch Cameron. Nik said, “Can you bribe him to eat? Preferably before he starves into nothing.”

“Would he let me?” was all Lev asked, eyes still on Cameron.

Nik huffed. “Fuck if I know. He won’t eat when I ask him to. And I’m a delight.”

Lev hesitated slightly before lightly touching Cameron’s shoulder. But despite the soft, low growl in Cameron’s voice, he didn’t move away. “Please eat?” When Cameron blinked blankly and closed his eyes again, Lev said, "You're always making sure we eat. But it goes both ways. You have to too. Also, it'll get Nik to shut up for a while so you can nap?"

Nik made a betrayed sound. “Wow, okay. I see we’re coming after me for Cam not eating.”

When Cam’s tail flicked, Lev looked over Cam’s head at him and mouthed, “Whatever works.”

Nik grumbled, but shook his head. Fine.

Cameron barely moved at all, just turned his head towards Lev to blink blankly at him. Lev quickly offered, “You can pick, if you want? There’s already a few chopped up. I can get them for you.”

Just when Nik thought Cameron wasn’t going to move, he slowly sat up, tail curling around him. Nik glowered. “Oh I see. You’ll do it for Mr. Puppy eyes.” If Cameron’s icy glare were going to be any more sufficient the room would freeze over.

Slipping off the counter, Lev went for the meat, but when he had his back to Cam, he stuck his tongue out at Nik. Nik warned, “Careful where you point that thing. I can think of plenty of ways to use that tongue.”

Lev flushed deeply but smiled as he pulled a tray of meat out of the fridge. Nik folded his arms while Lev sat it on the counter, watching Cameron paw at the meat. Cameron worked his way through each kind, scenting it and moving it around before going back to his spot and not touching any of the meat.

Lev’s face turned thoughtful before he went for the bowl of fruit in the fridge and rummaged a bit. He came back and put a couple of blueberries down in front of Cameron. Nik frowned. “He’s not going to eat that. Foxes don’t eat-”

Cameron sniffed at the berries before settling on the counter and nibbling on one. Nik’s mouth dropped. “Oh, are you fucking kidding me.” Lev shushed him sharply enough Nik arched an eyebrow. “I thought foxes were carnivorous.”

Lev lifted a shoulder. “Omnivores.”

Cameron growled while biting into another berry, clearly telling them both to shut up. Lev’s mouth shut while he watched Cameron with big golden eyes. Nik rolled his own and slumped down in a chair next to them. He ran his hand down Cam’s back, petting him absently while the bastard finally ate something. “I thought he was my boyfriend, not my child,” he muttered. “Stars above.”

Lev shushed him once more, giving him as firm of a look Nik suspected Lev was even capable of giving anyone. When Nik held up a hand of surrender, they both looked back at Cameron who was on his fifth berry.

Soon enough Cameron had his fill and curled back up on the corner of the counter, with his head on his paws, not looking at either of them when he shut his eyes. Nik rubbed his jaw. “We should. Take him back? To the room? It’d be more comfortable, yeah?”

Lev hesitated for just a moment. “Can I?”

It took Nik a moment to realize what Lev was asking. He blinked blankly and then looked at Cameron. When he didn’t react, Nik nodded. “Yeah,” he said, reluctantly. “Just- be careful.”

Lev seemed to brighten and he frowned at the slight smugness in Lev’s smile as he carefully picked Cameron up and brought him to his chest. Cam didn’t even react when Lev said, “Grab the blueberries, please.”

Nik grabbed the bowl of berries from the fridge and followed Lev back to the bedroom where he watched Lev gently settle Cam in the bed and sat down next to him. Cameron barely moved over a few steps before shredding a few shirts and laying down in an even smaller makeshift nest of his own. Worry flickered across Lev’s face.

After a few moments, when Cameron didn’t move, Lev said, “Is he okay?”

No, Nik almost said. Not when Cameron was so intent on making sure they ate, not when Cameron, himself, was in peak physical condition, and Nik knew that he fed himself well considering how the kitchen is usually so spotless in that very Cameron way. “He’s… I’m not sure,” he finally said. “Cameron isn’t… Cameron.”

“Does he need anything from us?” Lev finally asked. “That we aren’t already doing?”

Serotonin, Nik thought, dryly. “What else can we do?” Nik shrugged. “He’s not going to let us do anything without a mouthful of teeth in one of our arms, and let me tell you, you do not want bitten by Cameron. Not like that anyways- very unsexy.”

Lev seemed to consider that before hesitantly brushing his fingers down Cameron’s spine. The only reaction Cameron had was a slight arch of his spine and a small flick of his tail. “We should let him sleep,” Lev said. “He clearly needs it, and as long as we can get him to eat, it’s not like it’s doing any harm. You both gave me the space I needed during my heat, we should just do the same for him.”

“Stars,” Nik muttered. “You just needed to go and be reasonable and logical, didn’t you. What the fuck, Lev. Flexing on us like that, you just had to go and use manners.”

Lev rolled his eyes and went to snuggle on the bed, an arm's length from Cameron’s sleeping form. He flicked a look at Nik before closing his eyes and burrowing into the blankets. “Shut up and get in the bed.” Nik gave him a Look long enough opened an eye. “Please?”

Nik made a sound in his throat. “Much better.”

Nik considered just being an ass and walking out of the room, but he elected not to, if only because of Cameron and grumbled before collapsing on the bed next to Lev. He hooked his arm around Lev and turned him so he was looking at Nik. “Did you tell me to shut up? I cannot believe you told me to shut up, that is such a Cameron move.”

When Lev stuck his tongue out, Nik leaned over him and sucked on it. Lev moaned into his mouth, and the sucking turned to kissing, which turned to making out pretty quick. Soon enough Nik pressed his hips into Lev and the dip in bed momentarily made him stop and look to see Cameron get off the bed and go back to the shredded chair. Cameron gave them both an irritated look suggested that they dare make out in front of him and his nest while he was trying to sleep.

Lev paused, hand still in Nik’s hair, a golden flush in his face as he looked apologetically at Cam. “Should we move? I don’t-” he looked at Nik, whispering, “I don’t think you’re going to be quiet.”

Nik arched a brow down at him. “Okay first of all, it is a privilege to hear me moan,” he said, in a regular volume. “Second, it’s not my fault Cameron is delicate.” That got an actual growl from Cam suggesting Nik was going to get bit if he kept talking.

Lev covered Nik’s mouth with his hand. “Nik,” he whispered, admonished.

Nik was this close to licking his hand when Cameron growled again. Nik sighed irritably and pulled back. “Stars, killjoy.” He leaned back and pulled Lev up. “We might as well go fuck in another room so his highness can enjoy his three day nap.”

@idreamonpaper @livvywrites @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @halstudies @firesidefantasy

[jkjmemory]

I hate this feeling, I hate this night . Yoonkook .

Summary: The nights are Yoongi’s worst enemy; his bad brain is always harder to handle when the world around him is just as dark as his own thoughts.

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Min Yoongi Genre: Angst, tiny bits of Fluff Word Count: 3355 Read on: ao3, and if the links on this dumbass site worked properly, i would also link the work but.....@/staff please fix this site please wtf if you wanna know my ao3 to read more of my works, feel free to dm me or send me an ask!! 💓💓 A/N: Another two-day work that was originally Taegi but then turned into Yoonkook somewhere along the way idk? 😅 Can barely even be considered a one-shot tbh, it's more of a character study that's been sitting in my drafts for the longest time and I just wanted to finally get out of the way lol The title is from Key's 'One of those nights' which is such a lovely song 🤕💜 I know next to nothing about Insomnia btw and as always, Jungkook's anxiety is based on my own experience! If there are any major errors please let me know.

Hope you enjoy!! 💘 💘

Jungkook has always liked the city after dark. He likes its lights, the way they remain predictably in exactly the same places in familiar windows and street lamps and skyscrapers every night. He likes the cleanness of the sky when the smog lifts, and he likes how the evening veils the noises the people make. Nights give him a safe feeling, a maybe-people-will-stop-watching-me-now feeling.  Here on the tiny balcony the wind climbing up the walls of the apartment building makes Jungkook’s pajama shirt dance and a shiver crawl up his spine. Yoongi stops trying to light his cigarette for a second and glances at him. Elbows on the railing and head low between his shoulders, his eyes flick up towards Jungkook and he brushes his hair back behind his ear, abashedly, almost. Like he doesn’t really want the younger to see him smoke his way through another sleepless night.

“You should go back,” Yoongi says, and flicks the lighter again, the flame immediately dying in the wind. Yoongi curses under his breath; thin hands come up and cup the end of the cigarette. Jungkook just shrugs and crosses his arms, scratches at the hairs behind his ear.

“I like this better, Hyung,” he says. Yoongi’s eyelid twitches, and with a sigh and a sniffle, he squats down. Jungkook watches as the elder tugs one of the flat cushions they keep out here towards himself, sitting with his feet against the railing and curling his spine. Between his torso and his thighs, Jungkook hears the flick of the lighter.

“Should I get your jacket?” he asks after a while of Yoongi still busying himself with the cigarette; the other lets out a halfhearted snort.

“’m good, thanks.”

Yoongi shifts; the flame of the lighter shines for a second, and then, finally, the tip of the cigarette catches it. Jungkook watches Yoongi take the first inhale, pocket his lighter and lean his head back against the frame of the screen door, closing his tired eyes.

He’s always closing his eyes. Like it hurts to look at things, maybe it does.

Jungkook pads back into the living room, to the couch, where one of the others left their hoodie lying around. He takes it, pulls it over his head, smells sweat and coffee, thinks ‘Namjoon’ and in a second, he’s back at the screen door, sitting down cross-legged next to Yoongi, hands in his lap. And then they’re quiet.  They’re quiet for a long time, unmoving, and Jungkook’s eyelids are growing dangerously heavy when Yoongi finally says something.

„You don’t have to do this every single time, “Yoongi says in a mumble around the second cigarette which he’s been trying to light for the past minute or so. Jungkook glances up, and when Yoongi meets his eye steadily and deliberately, he flinches and looks further up, up, up and away. Eye contact is a dangerous thing.

What Yoongi means is that Jungkook doesn’t have to forgo his sleep to watch Yoongi chain smoke the night hours away. He doesn’t have to stay with Yoongi, Yoongi, who has stopped being able to sleep a couple weeks back. Jungkook doesn’t have to slip out of his bed silently and follow to wherever Yoongi takes them at 2 am, be it the set of swings on the playground two street corners over or the dark, deserted river banks halfway across the city.  It doesn’t matter; where Yoongi goes with his hunched shoulders, cigarette pack, empty hands, Jungkook follows.

He isn’t quite sure why he does it, really. He just doesn’t like the thought of Yoongi out alone in the middle of the night. And Jungkook’s own restlessness keeps him up way past the other members’ bedtime, as well. So, if they’re both not sleeping, anyway, they might as well spend that time together.

Tonight, on the balcony, he followed because he got scared.

When Yoongi got out of bed this time, Jungkook stayed where he was, lay there for a minute, firmly set on not following this time until he heard the screen door open and he remembered that their dorm was on the 11th floor, high, high up, and the railing was easy to climb, and Yoongi was not to be trusted. And he jumped out of bed and followed, after all.

Yoongi is right, he doesn’t have to do this every single time, but he doesn’t mind. He’s alone all night with Yoongi and he doesn’t mind, doesn’t mind at all.

He shifts a little, tugs at the drawstrings of his hoodie and ties them in an attempt to keep the wind from slipping its fingers into his collar. Yoongi by now has managed to light the cigarette, exhales smoke with a sigh, and Jungkook worries for a second that Namjoon might smell the cold smoke on his hoodie in the morning. He tugs his knees up towards his chest, mirroring Yoongi’s seat and worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

„Does it bother you? When I’m here, does it? “

Yoongi seems to consider this for a long time, and Jungkook feels sick to the stomach, desperately wishes he could see his face because he’s been wondering for so long now, if Yoongi even wants him here like this. But Yoongi has his hair in his face and is turning the cigarette between index finger and thumb contemplatively, then putting it back between his lips. His cheeks hollow slightly around his inhale, and Jungkook wonders just how much weight Yoongi has lost over this, this pain he’s been nursing for reasons unknown.

Yoongi doesn’t sleep, but during the day, he throws himself into practice, into work even more so, even though they just got through a comeback and their schedule is pretty timid for the next month or so. He exhausts himself, perhaps even hoping that if he’s just tired enough at the end of the day, maybe sleep will come to him, but it never does. The toll this cycle has taken on his mind is tangible and the toll it has taken on his body is visible, and Jungkook just wishes there was something he could do to help him. But Yoongi doesn’t want help. Jungkook is pretty sure he is more annoyed than happy to have him around as it is.

His train of thought makes him even more fidgety. He brings his hand up to his mouth, sniffs the cuff of the hoodie, chews on his thumbnail, avoids looking at Yoongi. The night is quiet and so is the other boy and Jungkook hates quiet sometimes, he really fucking does.

“Well, no.”

By the time Yoongi finally replies, Jungkook’s heart is beating a little too fast, lungs pressing into his ribcage on every inhale that he’s trying to keep as deep and calm as possible. Deep down, he hates himself for this, for the fact that every little thing can set him off just like that. A minor inconvenience and Jungkook’s breathing comes heavy, his eyes go wide. It all makes him feel childish and like he’s not in control, but he can’t help it, he likes Yoongi so much. So much. And he’s so worried and his mouth feels dry, stale, Jungkook wills the dizziness away, no, he doesn’t want to do this right now.

Yoongi reaches forward and flicks the ashes of his cigarette over the edge of the balcony. Glowing for another fragment of a second, they blow away, and Jungkook clings onto his elbows, tension in his shoulders that he doesn’t know how to let go. He sniffles, and Yoongi tilts his head, eyes him from beneath hooded lids, takes a drag, and Jungkook holds his heavy gaze for just about a second until he can’t anymore. He looks down, makes himself small, wonders what it would take to stop having a physical form that people could look at. Dangerous, terrifying eye contact, what if they all see, what if they all notice – he’s not even sure what he wants to hide so badly.  His lip is shaking. He feels pathetic, and Yoongi stands and leans over the railing again, away from Jungkook, which doesn’t make it better at all, and Jungkook wipes his eyes quickly with his sleeve.

“Then don’t push me away, Hyung, not me,” he manages, all shaky. Yoongi, again, doesn’t give him much more than a tilt of the head, and Jungkook fucking hates this so much. Why can’t they just have normal conversations, why can’t Yoongi just put in that little effort, why, why, Jungkook knows exactly why and he knows just how toxic his thoughts are, but his mind is running in overdrive all the time and he can’t really help it, no matter how well he means. Logically, he knows Yoongi isn’t doing this to hurt him. He isn’t doing it to hurt anyone, this locking-himself-away thing. He does it because he only has so much energy to spare when he’s fighting a battle against a mind that won’t let him live, won’t let him sleep, even.

But Jungkook can’t take it, he can’t take the uncertainty and he can’t take the isolation. All the other members don’t seem to be having the same problems as him, they know Yoongi just gets like this sometimes, and Jungkook knows this too, and Jimin told him to give Yoongi more time to sort his mind out, but Jungkook has a restless mind of his own. And it overinterprets and it worries, and he just needs to know that Yoongi doesn’t hate him because he can’t tell anymore, he really can’t.

“Don’t push me away, you know what it does to me,” he tries again. Yoongi has finished his cigarette, stubbed it out on the railing and is reaching into his pocket for the pack to take out the next one. Jungkook distantly wonders when Yoongi even picked up smoking and how he has never thought about this before, and how Yoongi is hiding his bad habit from the managers. He doesn’t know. It unsettles him, how little he knows about him. He sometimes thinks it’s not his place to worry about Yoongi when really, how close are they? Are they even close? Were they ever close?

“You should go back inside,” Yoongi says. Hands close around the tip of the cigarette, the lighter flicks, Jungkook wants to scream. He shakes his head defiantly.

“I won’t,” he bites. Yoongi turns his head fully now, and Jungkook can feel his eyes on him. He takes a drag, and just looks at Jungkook, looks and looks silently and then crouches down next to him again. Heels to the ground, elbows to his knees, he gets on eye-level with Jungkook and says his name softly, Jungkook-ah, he says, until Jungkook meets his eyes with a small whine. Yoongi’s eyes are still hooded, sleepy, and there’s a softness there that Jungkook wasn’t prepared for. Quickly, quickly he wants to look away but Yoongi touches his shoulder gently, albeit briefly.

“I don’t want you losing sleep over me.” Smoke curls from the cigarette. Jungkook watches it disperse, and then glances back up at the other.

„Let me, though,” he murmurs, and Yoongi groans softly, and drops his seat bones back down on the cushion, stretches his legs out long, socked feet against the rail. Jungkook watches him from the corner of his eye, hands in his lap.

“You’re my favorite thing to lose sleep over, Hyung, “he says, and this sentence is even more quiet, but Yoongi seems to catch it. He stalls his movement, holds his breath and then he crosses his legs, turns towards Jungkook, the cigarette in his hand, and stares at him.

Long looks.

They’re known to get Jungkook all fidgety, scare him, make him want to hide. But sometimes, they make him feel all warm, make his mouth go dry when it’s Yoongi looking at him, black orbs framed by black lashes between black bangs. Fingers fidgeting with the cigarette and clean teeth, whitened for the comeback between chapped, blueish-pink lips.

Yoongi gets so little sleep these days that his circulation is incredibly low, and everything about him has a weirdly translucent quality. He’s always been pale in comparison to Jungkook and the others, but here in the light of the streetlamps and the moon, his skin is made of blueish white and his lips are pale, too, like he’s cold all the time. Which makes sense, since the temperatures have been dropping recently, and Yoongi’s lips are blue, purple, pink, the color of Taehyung’s sweet, sweet strawberry milk cartons. He’s translucent when he puts the cigarette back between his lips, its glow dips him into orange for a second when he inhales. And then, he’s translucent again. Translucent in a way that constantly makes Jungkook either want to whip out his camera or pull him in, warm his cold lips with his own, or tug him inside, where it’s warm and safe.

But Jungkook knows himself, and he knows he wouldn’t be brave enough to do those things. He’s also aware Yoongi would never let him, always has to be the one to take the first step, always needs to stay in control of the situation. So, Jungkook sits and waits and watches Yoongi watching him, and acts like it’s nothing but gladly accepts it with his heart thudding when Yoongi, with a small sigh changes his cigarette hand from the right to the left and reaches his hand out, touching the back of Jungkook’s own with the tips of his fingers.

They both watch very carefully out of the corners of their eyes, shy of any eye contact now, as Yoongi traces his fingertips, just the tips, cool and soft, up the curve of Jungkook’s thumb, and they both hold their breaths when Jungkook turns his hand, palm up, and slowly takes Yoongi’s hand in his own.  Like it’s a secret, he holds it carefully. Cold, smaller than his own, he holds Yoongi’s hand and hangs his head low, wonders what would happen if someone saw them like this.

At first, neither of them moves. They’re both scared to break this fragile thing; all movement needs to be slow and steady. Quiet and slow and steady, like in a morning forest. Jungkook startles a little when Yoongi’s hand stops being limp in his own, when the elder presses his palm a little more firmly against Jungkook’s and then pushes his hand into his sleeve, meeting hot, sensitive skin. Jungkook shivers bodily, all hairs standing on end, and it makes the faintest breathless grin tug at the corner of Yoongi’s mouth.

Yoongi’s index finger and thumb press coldly into Jungkook’s pulse point, and Jungkook moves his hand to accommodate, holds Yoongi’s wrist in his palm. His pulse is slow, worryingly irregular, the pulse of someone with low blood pressure who hasn’t been sleeping or eating enough in late fall.  And Jungkook, always a contrast. He knows he’s all heightened senses, warmth beneath the skin, his pulse must be racing because Yoongi is so close now, leaning into his side. Closer than they’ve ever been, maybe. They both watch their hands in Jungkook’s lap. Jungkook can hear Yoongi’s breath on his ear, and turns his head reflexively, and they look at each other.

Eye contact; a dangerous thing. A beautiful thing.

And then they kiss. Suddenly but consensually gravitate towards each other until their lips meet, their minds in sync.

It’s thoughtful, kind of. Hesitant, deliberate, like the little dance of their hands earlier; it’s more breath than flesh first, both their lips a little dry and Jungkook shy of too much movement, stress still in his jaw and shoulders. But Yoongi’s lips are surprisingly warm contrary to his cold hand on Jungkook’s cheek, the kiss is warm and wonderful and slow as Yoongi twists in his seated position to reach the younger.

His breathing coming deeply through his nose, Jungkook takes his time before he touches Yoongi, right hand tangling clumsily in the elder’s hair, and it’s so soft between his fingers that Jungkook lets out a sigh and buries his hand deeper into it, and Yoongi takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, licking shamelessly into Jungkook’s mouth. All Jungkook can taste now is the smoke on Yoongi’s tongue and he hates what it means but he also loves it, it tastes like the pink color of strawberry milk. He feels lightheaded, whimpers softly.  Jungkook knows all Yoongi will be able to taste on his tongue is the faint afterglow of toothpaste, but Yoongi doesn’t seem to care, he kisses Jungkook thoroughly, hums low in his throat as he pulls back for a moment to stub the cigarette out for good. Jungkook watches dazedly as Yoongi turns back around and slides a hand up his chest with a shy, wanting glint in his eye and pulls Jungkook back in by his neck.

They’ve never been closer, Jungkook is sure of it. He can’t recall how he ever doubted this.

This right here, it’s not what he imagined kissing Yoongi would feel like, and he has imagined it lots. He was pretty sure that, was it to ever happen, it would be after some award show or party, intoxicated, free of meaning. And this is everything but. Jungkook isn’t drunk, and neither is Yoongi, and they’re both fully aware what they’re doing and of the consequences it could potentially have, and it feels like so much more than it should. Yoongi kisses heavy, and there’s so much urgency and pent-up need in the way his fingers dig into the skin of Jungkook’s neck that Jungkook, on top of feeling hot all over, muffling soft moans into Yoongi’s mouth, isn’t sure for just how long Yoongi has wanted this.

Which only makes it much more confusing when Yoongi’s hands, which have moved to the front of the hoodie, suddenly push him away, and Yoongi pulls back. That’s when Jungkook notices the dampness of his own cheeks, notices the puffiness of Yoongi’s eyes, and thinks oh no.

Yoongi grabs his lighter and cigarettes without a word, jumps up and runs inside.

Jungkook remains seated on the balcony, out of breath, eyes wide, trying to wrap his mind around how quickly Yoongi has changed his mind, how quickly situations can tip over edges without salvation. He can hear Yoongi in the hallway, pulling on his shoes and grabbing his keys, sniffling and opening the door, then throwing it shut.

And Jungkook knows it’s no use, so he doesn’t follow him.  The front door opens eleven floors down and Jungkook watches Yoongi run away into the night, wiping his face with the hem of his t-shirt.

He doesn’t know for how long he stays where he is in the wind on the balcony with a dull ache in his chest, but at some point, he collects the butts of Yoongi’s cigarettes and goes inside, throws them in the trash. He closes the screen door; he peels off Namjoon’s hoodie and places it over the back of the couch, and he goes back to bed.

Jungkook wakes up at the crack of dawn, when Namjoon shouts through the whole apartment which one of them is a smoker and stole his hoodie. He wakes up, and he realizes that curled around his waist is a skinny arm, and someone is breathing softly against his neck, softly and slowly, the breath of someone sleeping deeply.

He knows it’s Yoongi even before he turns onto his side carefully to eye the other.

Parted strawberry-milk lips and purple circles beneath his eyes, skin soft. There’s no tension or awareness there, and he doesn’t look like he’s going to wake up anytime soon. Jungkook figures he must have really needed this night’s rest; he unplugs his phone, mutes it and opens Instagram and lets Yoongi curl back into his side sleepily.  He lets him, because he doesn’t mind. He’s somewhat angry, sure, but he trusts that Yoongi will apologize later, and for now, he’s just glad to be close to him.

Closer than ever, maybe.

Thank you for reading!! Hate on me for mistakes and controversies.

[sonsoflucis]

moonbroch | sfw | noctis+reader

oh ho ho ho hooooooo, sorry it took me so long to get to this, but i had an idea for it at three in the morning and i am here to make EVERYTHING HURT. cracks knuckles, muttering about the diamond weapon in kingsglaive

moonbroch: an old Scottish word for a hazy halo of cloud around the moon at night that was a sign of bad weather to come

"You said your father was sending you away.” 

“I know.” 

Your voice cracked as you adamantly refused to meet the prince’s gaze, lest you stop being angry. “You... said... you were leaving to marry... someone else.” Your hands shook, eyes boring into the ground. The princess of Tenebrae was to wed Noctis. Lunafreya was to be with the man you had grown up with, the man you shared your first kiss with, the man who made you see stars, who knew about that one spot on your neck... As a symbol of peace. And you could have accepted it. You did, in fact. You accepted it when he held you and told you he will always love you. You accepted it when you watched the boys pull away from the curb, en route to Galdin Quay. You accepted it when you sank to your knees by your favorite tree in the royal gardens and wept quietly. What you did not accept was this... 

Him, strolling back into Insomnia, invisible in the buzzing city, everyone antsy for the signing ceremony. Him, finding you in your favorite bookstore, flipping furiously through each novel unfortunate to be within eyesight, never truly looking at any of them. Him, convincing you to take him back to your little house on the edge of the city. “No, no, they’ll be fine, Iggy took them out for dinner.” Him, him and his stupid, stupid smirk. Watery apologies. Hot tears. 

Noctis cursed under his breath, burning himself on the tea kettle. You were too busy cleaning to pay the whistling any mind. As if it could distract you from what was happening. You grumbled venomously, wiping down the front of the cabinets. 

“Idiot boy... So stupid.” 

“I can hear you,” he bit back, clicking the burner off. 

“Good!” You slammed the bottle of disinfectant down, chest burning with rage. “I have spent all day getting over you. I had locked you away in my head and thrown away the key. I had resolved to never, ever let myself think about you in that way ever again because you are the prince and you are marrying the Oracle and ending this godsforsaken war. I threw away the CDs you made. I meditated for hours hoping some semblance of peace would grace this wretched house, just for a moment. I bought vegetables for dinner because damn it, I just wanted to make something green for once, holy shit-” 

“You threw away the CDs?” he interrupted softly. 

You spluttered, gesturing wildly. “That... that is what you’re worried about!? Noctis, you are getting married. You are supposed to be in Altissia, eating scones, trying on tuxedos, mingling with royalty, and forgetting about ME.” You released the rag from your death grip and choked on a sob. “You’re supposed to be forgetting about me...” 

He stepped towards you, lips parted to say something. 

“No, don’t. If you come over here, if you come over here and touch me, all of this pain will have been for nothing. If you come over here with your stupid hair and your stupid understanding, I will fall to pieces. Noctis!” you shouted, a hand on your stomach. “Please, don’t come over here!” You were still telling him no when his arms encircled your trembling frame, still yelling obscenities when he rested his chin on your shoulder, gasping sobs breaking up your tirade as he eased you to the floor. You clawed at his forearms, chest heaving. “...please.” 

“I’m sorry,” he crooned, pressing his lips to your jaw. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” 

“You’re not supposed to love me...” you whined pitifully to the ceiling, voice cracking.

“And yet here I am,” he murmured into your hair. The two of you sat on the kitchen floor for what seemed like ages, you crying into the crook of his elbow, nuzzling against his thumb as he stroked your cheek, your eyes puffy, throat raw. Halfhearted bawling turned into silent acceptance and you closed your eyes, listening to him hum something soft into your ear.  

“Noctis...”

“Mm?” 

You sat up, wiping your face off on your shirt before facing him. “Will you... stay with me? Tonight?” He scratched his head and glanced at the clock. “I... You know I can’t sleep.” Insomnia, the irony not lost on either of you. You generally slept well into the day, working late nights. But when Noctis was around, you managed to sleep more soundly. He was safe. 

“I don’t-”

“Just... stay.”

Ignis was going to be furious, but... how could he say no to that tear-stained face? “Yeah... I’ll stay.” He stretched, massaging his arms. “Come on, let me help you up,” he said, offering his hand. He led you to the bedroom, hands on your shoulders. The shushing sound of your feet dragging on carpet was almost deafening in the dark house.

“...didn’t throw ‘em away.” You crawled onto the bed, cool sheets caressing your face. The mattress squeaked beneath you as you turned to see Noctis flipping your alarm clock over, dimming the bright turquoise light it cast across the room.

“What?”

“I didn’t throw the CDs away...” Noctis brushed a few stray bits of hair out of your face and smiled. 

“...you know I have to leave first thing in the morning.” 

“I know,” you sighed sleepily, tugging at his arm. “Dawn.” 

“Yeah... Dawn.” He collapsed into the bed next to you, noting the lack of stars outside. Camping with the others wasn’t his cup of tea, but how could you dislike that view? “Hey, did you take your pill?” You were already drifting off, the stresses of the day taking their toll. Noctis dug around in the nightstand for the little bottle with your sleeping aid in it. You hardly took it except when necessary because it knocked you out for a large chunk of the day. But he didn’t want you to wake to him leaving. “Here, take your pill,” he ordered gently, pressing it to your lips. Your eyes fluttered open, confused.

“I don’t need it.” 

“I will wake you up if you don’t.” 

“Then wake me up.” 

His brow furrowed sadly. “Just... take the pill. Sleep. Have one good night’s rest. I will be here until dawn.” You assessed his open palm, the tiny yellow pill front and center. With a small quip about royalty always being so demanding, you swallowed it dry, settling back into your blanket cocoon. 

“So, dawn.” 

“Mhm,” he replied, making circles on your back. 

You winced, trying not to cry again. “You’ll be in Altissia by midday, then?”

“That’s the plan.” He stopped his ministrations and sighed. “You don’t hate me, right?” 

You shook your head, eyelids heavy with the promise of sleep. “Never, Noct...” 

He nodded slowly, resting his head on his arm. “I never meant for this to happen.” 

“Just sleep,” you whispered, trailing off into an airy whimper. “I don’t hate you.” 

“You should,” Noctis thought aloud, tucking the blankets in around you. 

Night came and went, the sun cresting over the city, peeking through the buildings as it rose. A sharp, golden light pierced Noctis’ subconscious and he awoke, a flurry of “fuck fuck fuck” tumbling from his mouth. It had to have been almost midday, sun pouring into the house, casting shadows along the wall. “Iggy’s gonna have my head,” he hissed, tying his laces into what could be consider knots. He heard mention of the signing ceremony on the radio in the car on the way here and Noctis needed to be in Altissia and shaking hands with diplomats before his father was told of his resurfacing in Insomnia. The Regalia wasn’t the most discrete car. Noctis ground to a halt, remembering you dozing peacefully beside him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw you sprawled out, deep, deep in your dreamworld, finally. Your hands were fisted around his jacket, face buried in the cloth. “Keep it...” He smoothed his hand over your calf and withdrew quickly. “From another time,” he mused, grabbing his cell phone. The prince left your house, closing the door quietly behind him, already trying to push the thought of your silhouette under the bedclothes aside. You were no longer his. You were no longer his...

Hazy, hazy darkness crept over the bedroom. Blinking the grogginess from your eyes, you rolled over, hand searching for the prince, finding nothing but open air. He left... before dawn. “You liar,” you spat quietly, wiggling farther into the blankets. Your eyes fell on his jacket, crumpled up on your pillow. He so loved that jacket... He would never have left it on accident. You drew it to your chest and bit back a sob, already feeling sleep tugging at you gingerly. It was strange, though, that the medicine hadn’t done its job. Your eyes closed almost of their own accord and you didn’t fight the welcome fuzziness it brought. In and out of consciousness, you peered out from under the blankets, a faint rumbling shaking the house. The headboard clattered against the wall, drawing you out of the fog for a moment. Your bedroom window was alight with a fierce orange, growing brighter by the minute. You closed your eyes, breathing softly. 

“Dawn.” 

[technicallyimportanteagle-blog]

Don’t Leave Me Alone

Part 1- Truth or Dare: (x) Part 2- Go away, leave me alone: (x)

Pete Wentz x Reader Warnings: Panic attack, night terrors

“I’ve wanted to do this for two years now.” With that his lips were on yours, and you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. He grabbed the small of your back and pulled you closer to him. You ran your hands up and down his back. He pulled away a few seconds later, and you whined pitifully at the lack of contact. He laughed, grabbing you bridal-style and walking you around the bed. “Put me down. I don’t like being manhandled,” you squealed indignantly, squirming in his grip. He tossed you onto the mattress. “Trust me princess, if I manhandle you, you’ll know it,” he said seductively as he crawled onto the bed. “I actually got that one, and now I’m uncomfortable,” you announced. You sat up, pressing your back against the headboard, and pulling the comforter up to your neck, “Don’t look at me, I’m naked.” He laughed again. “You’re just now feeling self conscious about that? You took your clothes off in front of me. Not to mention all the other things,” he winked at you. “Yeah, but you weren’t looking at me like that! It was different,” you defended. Even while saying it, it sounded more like a lack of observational skills on your part then actual fact. He chuckled slightly at your ignorance and naivete. “Sweetheart, I can assure you that nothing has changed,” he said as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you onto his lap. You began to squirm uncomfortably. The voice was back and shouting, ‘Got to get away. Too close. Too vulnerable. You’re going to get hurt.’ Anxiety began to build up in your chest, and your breathing became more rapid. You were completely in his lap now, straddling his waist.

His lips were pressed against your neck, kissing, sucking, nipping. The sensation overwhelmed your senses, pushing back the anxiety that had been building up. You ran your fingers through his hair. His teeth grazed a sensitive spot on your neck and you moaned softly. He smirked against your skin, and began to attack that spot, earning a few more moans from you. He pulled away from your neck, and you pulled his head towards yours, lips meeting in a heated kiss. Your mouths moved together and he pulled you even closer, deepening the kiss. He ran his tongue along your lower lip, you timidly opened your mouth and allowed his tongue to enter, his was definitely the dominant one, and this was made even more drastic due to your utter lack of experience. As things got even more heated, he tugged at your bra strap. Fear filled you in an instant, a wildfire burning through the euphoric buzz and consuming your entire being. You pushed him away and tried to scramble out of the bed, but you got tangled up in the covers and hit the floor with a hard thud, you felt your head bounce off the floor. You couldn’t think, your mind blank. You crawled under the bed and started to cry. The panic attack you avoided earlier coming back in full force.

~Pete’s P.O.V.~ I sat stunned as I watched her fall out of the bed, hitting the floor with a loud thud. I heard her scramble under the bed, sniffling as she hid. ‘Fuck. Patrick is going to have my head for this,’ I thought as I got out of the bed to try and calm her down. “(Y/n), I’m going to turn the lamp on,” I said. My eyes hurt for a split second as they adjusted to the sudden brightness. With that done, I knelt down on the ground next to the bed. (Y/n) was on her stomach, and when she saw me, her eyes widened and she scuttled backwards. Muttering to herself something about being vulnerable.  “(Y/n), sweetheart, what’s wrong,” I asked. Trying not to get frustrated by her sudden change in mood. “Too much touching, and I-I-I,” she was hyperventilating. I realized what was going on, she was having a panic attack. “You need to come out from under there, I need to take a look at your head and it will help your breathing,” I said, trying to keep a calm and even tone. I reached out to help her, but she freaked out even more. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me,” she screamed. I silently cursed myself for getting too caught up in the moment and making her so scared. “I’ll be back,” I said, and I got up and ran back downstairs, Patrick should be able to get her to calm down.

~Patrick’s P.O.V.~ A loud crash woke me out of my fitful sleep. Shit when did I fall asleep? I was to ask Pete how (Y/n) was doing. I put on my glasses and looked around the living room. Pete wasn’t back yet? A few minutes later I heard (Y/n) scream. “Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!” What the hell was he doing to her? I got up off the couch just as Pete came running into the dimly lit room. He looked frazzled, his hair even more messy than normal, like someone had ran their hands through it. Did he fuck my cousin? No, that couldn’t be it because if he did why was she screaming? Did he ask and it freaked her out? “Pete what the hell is going on?” I asked. I must’ve sounded angry because he looked even more crestfallen. “I... I went up to talk to (Y/n), and long story short, she freaked out, fell out of bed, and hit her head on the floor pretty hard. Now she’s hiding and she’s having a panic attack,” he blurted out. My eyes widened and I hurried up the stairs with Pete right behind me. “Maybe you should stay back,” I said to Pete as we approached the door. “I need to apologize. I never meant to hurt her, I...” he trailed off, and I put my hand on his shoulder. “Just wait for me to calm her down, and let her at least put a shirt,” I chuckled, earning a halfhearted smile from Pete.

~Your P.O.V.~ Your head was throbbing, and you were beginning to get light headed from the lack of oxygen. Your thoughts were a whirlwind of fear and self deprecating jibes that blocked out any other train of coherent thoughts. You heard the door open, and saw two sets of feet walk into the room. “Trick? Is that you,” you said tearfully. “(Y/n/n), can you come out from under there” Patrick asked, peering under the bed to look at you. You weren’t going too, but then you thought you saw a spider, so you crawled out. Patrick helped you stand up, and handed you an over-sized shirt to put on. Enveloping you in a tight hug as soon as it fell into place, and you quickly began to feel safe. You realized Pete must have ran downstairs to get him. You refused to cry again, but your eyes had other ideas. You stood there for a few minutes until your emotions were spent. “Do you want to talk about it,” he whispered. You shook your head and gave him a light smile. “Honestly I just want to go to bed, my head is killing me,” you laughed.

Pete finally decided to speak up, “I’m sorry (Y/n).” “It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t do anything necessarily. I just have some problems I need to work out.” “You’ve got a lot of issues,” Patrick teased, “Well my cousin duties have been filled, I’m going back downstairs. You coming Pete?” “Yeah,” he responded, turning to walk out with Patrick. “Wait,” you said, and they both turned back around to face you. You blushed lightly, “Don’t leave me alone. There’s a spider in here.” Pete laughed at your request. “Fine, I’ll stay,” Pete said with a warm smile. Patrick opened his mouth to say something, but Pete beat him to the punch, “Don’t worry Patrick, I’m going to give her space.” Patrick sighed a halfhearted ‘alright’ and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Cuddle with me,” you demanded childishly, tugging on his arm as you tried to pull him with you. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He asked. You rolled your eyes. “I wanna cuddle,” you pout. “I have known you for 10 years, and I still have no idea what the hell goes on in that head,” he sighed, but he let you pull him to the bed. You crawled under the covers and he followed you. “I just want to apologize in advance, I tend to be a violent sleeper,” you admitted sheepishly. You couldn’t really help it, whether it was night terrors, stress, or just not being able to get comfortable, you had always been one to toss and turn. “Noted,” he chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you, and you snuggled up against him. With a content sigh, you drifted off to sleep.

~Pete’s P.O.V.~ I was jarred awake by a sharp pain to my side. (Y/n) was thrashing frantically in her sleep, tears streaking down her face. Her eyes darted frantically behind her eyelids, watching a nightmare play out in her mind, and she was whimpering something I couldn’t understand. She had manage to squirm out of my arms sometime during her fit, so I pulled her up against me, and stroked her hair soothingly. She continued to thrash, but her mumbling became more intelligible. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t leave me.” She repeated it over and over. I continued to try and calm her down for what felt like an eternity. “Pete, I’m sorry,” she cried. My heart dropped, and I tried to shake her awake.

“(Y/n), wake up,” I begged. Her eyes flew open. “Pete,” she whispered, fear still clear in her voice. “I’m here,” I said, hugging her tightly. “I had a nightmare. You said you hated me,” she whimpered. “I could never hate you,” I promised, kissing her head. She fell silent again, and I felt her breathing become more even. She had fallen back asleep. I kissed her head once more, before I let myself drift back to sleep.

A/n: Sorry this took so long! I’ve had wayy too much homework. School sucks >.<