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ffaelix · 2 months

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on cold, grey nights | jason todd angst

written for one of my friend's bday, cross posted on wattpad (wearyminds) and ao3 (ffaelix)

The Gotham night was cold and unforgiving, the air so thick with mist it felt like breathing in shards of ice. Jason Todd, clad in his crimson Red Hood attire, perched on the edge of a rooftop, his eyes scanning the shadowy streets below. He had been out here for hours, searching for any sign of trouble, but all he found was the echo of his own breaths.

A sudden gust of wind sent a shiver down his spine, and Jason tightened his grip on the grappling hook at his side. His teeth chattered slightly, and he knew he was pushing his limits. The cold was seeping into his bones, turning him numb. But he couldn't just go home, not when the city needed him. The weight of his responsibility was as heavy as the chill in the air.

Through the fog, a flicker of movement caught his eye. A shadowy figure stumbled down an alley, and Jason's instincts took over. He launched himself off the rooftop, his figure looking similar to a fiery comet against the grey sky. He landed silently on the wet pavement, his boots barely making a sound. The figure was hunched over, struggling under the weight of what appeared to be a stolen bag. Without a moment's hesitation, Jason closed in, ready to deal out his brand of justice.

But as he got closer, the figure's labored breathing and erratic steps gave him pause. This wasn't the confident gait of a seasoned criminal, but the desperate shuffle of someone in distress. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks - this wasn't a thief; it was a civilian caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. He approached with caution, not wanting to spook them into a panic. "You okay down there?" he called out, his voice muffled by the cold.

The figure looked up, revealing a young woman with wide, terrified eyes. She clutched the bag to her chest, her teeth chattering as violently as his. "Please," she stuttered, "please don't hurt me." The bag slipped from her grasp, revealing not loot but a collection of soggy blankets and meager supplies. The gravity of the situation dawned on him - she was just trying to survive the night.

Jason's heart sank. He was about to offer her help when a coughing fit took hold of him, his body betraying his good intentions. He stumbled, the cold finally overwhelming him. The woman's expression shifted from fear to concern, and she took a tentative step forward. "You're freezing," she said, her voice cracking with the cold. "You need to get out of here."

With a grim nod, Jason knew she was right. He couldn't risk his health any further. The homeless shelter was a few blocks away, a beacon of warmth and safety in this harsh night. He took the lead, guiding her through the maze of alleys with a new urgency. Each step was heavier than the last, his legs feeling like they were made of lead. The fog thickened, making it hard to see more than a few feet ahead, but he pushed on, driven by the need to get her somewhere safe.

Finally, the lights of the shelter emerged through the mist like a mirage. The woman's eyes lit up with hope, and she picked up her pace. They stumbled through the doors, the warmth hitting them like a tidal wave. The shelter was crowded, a sea of weary faces greeting them with a mix of suspicion and pity. Jason helped the woman to the front desk, his teeth still chattering uncontrollably.

The shelter worker, a kind-faced woman with a no-nonsense air, took one look at him and immediately frowned. "You're in no state to be out there," she scolded, her eyes assessing his condition with a practiced gaze. "You need to get out of those wet clothes before you catch your death."

Jason nodded, reassuring the young woman that he would be okay. "I'll be fine," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "You get some rest here." She hesitated, looking back at him with a mix of gratitude and concern, but he gave her a gentle nudge towards the warmth of the shelter. With a nod, she allowed herself to be led away, disappearing into the sea of bodies seeking refuge from the biting cold.

Once she was out of sight, Jason's legs gave out, and he slumped against the wall. The warmth of the shelter was a stark contrast to the icy grip the night had on him, but it was too late. His body had reached its breaking point. He knew he needed to get somewhere warm, fast, or the hypothermia would claim him. With a grimace, he pushed himself away from the safety of the shelter and stumbled into the alley.

The fog had thickened, turning the alley into a labyrinth of shadows and mist. He managed a few steps before the world began to spin, the cold seizing his muscles in a vice-like grip. He reached for the wall to steady himself, his fingertips brushing against the damp bricks before everything went black.

...

Dick Grayson, perched high above the streets as Nightwing, had noticed the sudden stillness in the alley, the absence of the crimson figure he had been keeping tabs on from afar. His stomach lurched as he swung into action, descending with a grace that belied his urgency. He found Jason slumped against the wall, his eyes closed and his breathing shallow. "Jase," he whispered, his voice filled with concern as he felt for a pulse. It was faint but steady.

The cold had set in, and Dick knew he had to act quickly. First, he scouted out the area to see if it was free of trouble. Then, he carefully peeled the sodden mask from half of Jason's face, revealing the shivering form beneath. The younger man's skin was almost translucent, the stark blue of his lips a stark reminder of the danger he was in. Dick's eyes narrowed, his mind racing as he scanned the area for any sign of trouble a second time.

After seeing the alley was clear, he slung Jason's arm over his shoulders, hoisting him upright. The weight was surprising, but Dick had been in similar situations before. He knew the drill - get him warm, get him dry, and get him medical attention if necessary. They staggered through the fog, the alley's cobblestones slippery under their boots. Each step was a battle against the cold and the fog, but Dick's determination was unyielding.

The alley opened up into a slightly wider street, and Dick caught a glimpse of the Bat-Signal piercing the misty sky. The symbol was a beacon of hope, a reminder that they were never truly alone in their fight. But there was no time to revel in the sight. He had to get Jason somewhere warm before hypothermia claimed him completely. Dick's thoughts raced as he considered his options. The nearest safehouse was too far, and taking him to the Batcave would risk alerting Alfred to their condition.

But maybe it was a good thing if Alfred knew. The elderly butler had seen them through countless scrapes, and his medical expertise was unmatched. Plus, the warmth of the manor's embrace would be a comfort to Jason, a stark contrast to the biting chill of the night. The decision made, Dick adjusted his grip and started to make his way towards the manor.

The journey felt like an eternity, each step a battle against the cold that clung to them like a second skin. Dick could feel the hypothermia's icy claws digging deeper into Jason's body, and he quickened his pace, trying to ignore the burning in his own muscles. The fog grew thicker, the streetlights swimming in a sea of mist that made the world around them seem unreal, like a nightmare from which they couldn't wake.

Finally, the imposing silhouette of Wayne Manor loomed ahead, a bastion of warmth and safety amidst the cold. Dick stumbled through the secret entrance, the warmth of the house enveloping them like a warm blanket. The sudden change in temperature made him gasp, and he knew Jason must be feeling it too, even in his unconscious state.

He half-carried, half-dragged his younger brother through the corridors, his heart racing with every beat. The manor was eerily quiet, the usual bustle of activity stilled by the late hour. Dick hoped Alfred was still up, waiting for their return. He knew the butler would be furious to see Jason in such a state, but that was a lecture they could deal with later. For now, all that mattered was getting him warm.

As they approached the kitchen, a flicker of light spilled into the hallway, guiding them like a lighthouse beam. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, and Dick's stomach rumbled despite the gravity of the situation. Tim Drake sat at the island, his eyes bloodshot and his hair sticking up in every direction. The youngest Robin looked up from his textbook, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. "Dick?" he called out, his voice heavy with sleep.

Tim's gaze fell upon Jason, and his eyes widened. He jumped to his feet, the coffee mug clattering against the countertop. "What happened?" he demanded, the exhaustion in his voice giving way to alarm. Dick could only manage a tired nod before the words came tumbling out. "Hypothermia. I found him in an alley."

Tim didn't waste any time. He set aside his book and took Jason's other arm, helping Dick support his weight. "Let's get him to Alfred," he said firmly, already moving towards the stairs that led to the medical bay. Dick followed, his legs feeling like they were made of jelly. The warmth of the house was a stark contrast to the biting cold outside, but it wasn't enough to banish the chill that had settled into Jason's bones.

They stumbled into the medical bay, the room bathed in a soft, sterile light. Alfred Pennyworth looked up from his paperwork, his expression one of mild irritation that quickly morphed into alarm. "Master Dick," he began, his voice stern, before his eyes fell upon Jason. "Bring him here," he instructed, his tone switching to one of calm urgency.

Tim helped lay Jason on the examination table, the older man's eyes scanning him with a medical precision that was as comforting as it was alarming. Dick hovered nearby, feeling utterly useless as Alfred began to strip the wet, cold clothes from his brother's body. The warmth of the room was a stark contrast to the chill that still clung to Jason's skin, a testament to how dangerously cold he had been.

Tim's gaze flickered between the two of them, his mind racing. "How could he be so stupid?" he muttered, more to himself than to Dick. "Out there in this weather, without even a proper plan."

Dick offered a weak smile, his own guilt mirroring Tim's frustration. "He's always had a bit of a hero complex," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "But he's also incredibly selfless."

Tim nodded, his expression softening slightly. "I know," he said, his voice quieter now. "But sometimes I worry he'll push himself too far."

Alfred's gaze met Dick's, a silent understanding passing between them. They had all seen the lengths Jason would go to protect the innocent, often at the cost of his own well-being. It was a trait they both admired and feared in him. The butler turned back to his patient, his movements swift and efficient as he wrapped Jason in warm blankets and began to check his vitals. "We need to warm him up gradually," Alfred said, his eyes never leaving the monitors. "Too fast, and it could be dangerous."

Dick was already stripping off his damp clothes, replacing them with a set of Alfred's spare pajamas that the butler kept in the medical bay for just such emergencies. The fabric was soft and warm, a stark contrast to the cold, wet material he had been wearing. He slid into the bed next to Jason, his body heat seeping into the other man's side. Tim did the same, his own pajamas a slightly less dignified affair of Carebear-themed shirt and sleep shorts.

They lay there in silence, their bodies pressed together to provide what warmth they could. Dick felt the cold radiating from Jason's skin, a stark reminder of the battle they were fighting. He could feel the steady rhythm of Tim's heartbeat through the mattress, a comforting presence in the otherwise tense room.

"Nice PJs, Tim," Dick murmured, his voice a low rumble in the quiet. "I didn't know you were a Carebear fan."

Tim rolled his eyes, a hint of a smile playing on his lips despite the gravity of the situation. "Shut up, Dick," he said, though there was no real heat behind his words. He tucked one of the blankets around Jason more securely, ensuring that the heat they were generating was trapped. "Bruce found them in a thrift store and thought they'd be funny. They're surprisingly comfortable."

Dick chuckled, the sound a little forced, but it helped break the tension. "Well, if Bruce approved, I guess they're officially cool," he said, his hand finding Tim's under the blankets, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Tim's hand was cold, but it was already starting to warm up against his own.

They lay there for what felt like hours, their combined body heat gradually seeping into Jason's frigid form. Dick felt the cold in his own bones begin to dissipate, the warmth of Tim's body a comforting presence beside him. They were a makeshift family, bound by a shared history and a commitment to a cause that was greater than any one of them. The quiet hum of the medical equipment filled the room, a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the lengths they would go to protect it.

Then, a sudden shift in the air. Jason stirred, his eyes fluttering open. For a moment, they were unfocused, glazed over with the haze of unconsciousness. But then, they fixed on Tim, and a weak smile ghosted across his face. "You're...really wearing...Carebear pajamas?" he managed, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Tim rolled his eyes, but the smile that tugged at his lips was genuine. "Shut up, Jase," he said, his voice thick with relief. "You're going to be okay."

Dick felt his own chest tighten at the words. "You're not dying on me," he murmured, his hand still clutching Jason's. "Not like this."

Tim's eyes were wet, but he didn't bother to wipe away the tears. "You hear that, Jase?" he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You're not going anywhere."

Jason's eyes remained closed, but a faint smile played on his lips. "Love...you...both," he murmured, his voice barely audible. Dick felt a lump form in his throat, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. It wasn't often that Jason showed his softer side, but when he did, it was like a punch to the gut. The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning and a bond that had been forged in the fires of Gotham's streets.

Tim's hand tightened around Dick's, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of the moment. They had all lost so much, endured so much pain together, but here they were, a trio of misfits, bound by a love that was as fierce as it was complicated. For a brief second, the tension in the room dissipated, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the blankets surrounding them.

The three of them lay there, their breathing synchronized as the warmth of their bodies slowly brought Jason back from the brink. Dick felt the tension in Jason's muscles ease, the shivering subsiding into the gentle rise and fall of deep sleep. The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only sound in the room, a metronome keeping time with their collective sigh of relief.

Tim's eyes remained on Jason, his gaze unwavering as he held onto his hand. Dick knew the feeling, the need to reassure themselves that their brother was truly okay. But exhaustion was tugging at the edges of his consciousness, the weight of the night's events making his eyelids feel like lead. He could feel the warmth of Tim's body beside him, the younger man's breathing evening out as he too succumbed to sleep.

The room grew quiet, the only sounds the soft snores of the three of them and the rhythmic beeping of the monitors. The warmth of their bodies had created a bubble of comfort around Jason, the cold a distant memory as they all fell into a deep slumber. The medical bay was no longer a stark reminder of the dangers they faced but a sanctuary where they could find peace, if only for a brief while.

As the night gave way to a cold, grey dawn, Alfred entered the room, his expression a mix of relief and concern. He had been notified of their arrival by the security system and had been waiting anxiously for any signs of movement. He checked the monitors, his eyes lingering on the steady rise and fall of Jason's chest. Satisfied that the crisis had passed, he covered them with an additional blanket, his gaze lingering on the trio before he retreated to his own quarters.

thanks for reading!!

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hopelesslydevotedtoyu · 1 year

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05/08/2023

The club is dark and loud, with a few lights hitting the faces of the people dancing and mingling around. The air is filled with the scent of sweat mixed with perfume alcohol and a little bit of smoke. The place is packed with people like every other saturday night and the bartenders do an amazing job of keeping everyone’s glasses full.

Everyone is there, Loren notices. From creative directors to fashion models to wannabe producers and influencers. He doesn't know these people, he just recognizes a few faces here and there, some from billboards that occupy the highway and others from magazines and social media ads. Some of them came up to him in hopes of striking a beneficial friendship. He can see through all of them, he knows that everyone wants something from him. It irritates him, but he cannot blame them, he remembers when he was just like them, new to a wild city trying to make it in the music industry. Speaking to every suit wearing guy he could find in hopes of getting signed to a label that could send his songs to the top of the charts. He remembers the desperation and cringes at the memory.

He is lost in thought as he watches people laughing and getting drunk. His gaze is locked in a girl that sticks out like a sore thumb, not because of her beauty but because she looks like she wants to be anywhere else but there. Maybe she was forced by her firends or by her agent. It is well known that modelling agencies send their models to very exclusive parties so they can make connections. He feels pity for the girl but looks away bored. There is nothing in that party that is making him want to stay but still, he sits in the red velvet couch a drink in hand and a somber look on his face.

“If you keep frowning that hard you will get a headache” says a female voice, taking him out of his thoughts, Loren looks to the side to see a short brunette looking at him with worry written all over her face. He processes her words and rolls his eyes before taking a sip of his now warm golden drink. He feels the couch shift as the girl sits next to him, “I know everyone is ok pretending that there is nothing wrong with you, but I am worried” she says in a soft voice. Loren wishes he could ignore his sister and act like everything is alright, but she is the only one who can see right through him no matter how hard he tries to mask the emotions, no one knows him better than his little sister. Well…there is one person. “I know you miss her” Stella says beside him and his heart drops.

She was the first person to acknowledge what happened, everyone else was perfectly fine with forgetting the past and pretending that Loren was not dying inside. He would feel hurt at the indifference that everyone but his sister was showing, but he preferred it that way because it was easier for him to pretend that everything was ok when his world has fallen apart and he was existing between the debris.

Of course, he missed her. He could still hear echos of her name in his mind, and the hole in his chest has not gotten any smaller since she left weeks ago. But what could he do? He already messed everything up to the point of no return. Nothing he said or did would make things right. Nothing he said or did would make her come back to him, to the home they bought together, to the life they built. Everything was lost and all he could do was pretend that nothing happened, like he wasn’t being haunted by the memory of her perfume. He hoped that one day it’ll be like he never even met her.

Loren looked at Stella and drowned what was left of his drink, “miss who?” he asked before standing up and leaving her sitting in the VIP room.

#mine #writing #short story #scene

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hollyhomburg · 3 years

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Before I Leave you (Part 22)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: After finding you in such a compromising position, the pack has their questions (and a few confessions)

Tags: self-esteem issues, self-hatred, self-disgust, mentions of sex and sexual dynamics, BDSM mention, dom/sub undertones, discussions of consent, panic-attacks, PTSD, hurt/comfort, copious amounts of cuddling, fluff, Confessions, First kisses, hickeys,

W/c: 11.9k

A/n: I think updates every two weeks are as much as I can handle right now. i’ve been feeling burnt out with my life recently, luckily i have the next few chapters (mostly) written- so i’ll try to keep it to two updates every month! this chapter was really hard to write~ but i hope you’re as excited as i am when you read this!

You're not proud of what happens next.

You're not proud of the way you shoot to your feet but it's a purely primal thing, the sudden burst of adrenaline at being caught in such a compromising position. You stand up too quickly, the dizziness making you teeter, blood rushing to your head. The fear and adrenaline pumping through your body are both misplaced, but it’s too hard to sort through what’s really happening. You are at once a victim of your instincts and a conduit for them. Little more than fear living with a pulse.

And below that, a single thought- a horrifying realization; You have forgotten what it feels like to be afraid.

Fear was once something that kept you alive, the adrenaline was your friend first before anything else, oversensitive instincts that held you with soft hands and told you how to act safely. How is it that you've forgotten this? how is it that you’ve shred your protective layers so easily? To do away with your survival instincts- even unintentionally- feels like a betrayal of your body.

You don’t remember the adrenaline rush feeling quite so bad.

Did you really feel like this all the time? The half sort of sickness, the extra fission at the edge of your vision like a short shutter speed on a camera, the blur and graininess turned up on, too many warm tones playing on the edge of your vision.

There isn’t enough time to take in this situation and figure out if these threats are real or imaginary. No time at all when Jin’s coming at you with his hands out first. He takes one step closer to you, within touching distance and a voice in your head is yelling at you to run. “Baby-“

You don’t know how you fit through the space between him and the door but you do, tripping on something and breaking out into a run. Knocking your hip hard onto the side of the dresser by your door, knocking over someone's cologne and a few beauty products that clatter to the floor.

Safe- You need to get somewhere safe- and that place isn't here. Your door has a lock on it- that should be enough. Nest- have to get to the nest- it’s the only safe place in this house now. And even that might not be enough. Away- you just need to get away from-

"Wait-" his hand is on your shoulder for a split second before you shrug it off, a weird pitiful noise echoing on the fringes of your awareness, broken and echoing. You run, but Jin is close behind- Jin who knows what you've done- how is he home? he wasn't supposed to be home- he wasn't supposed to know-

He has longer legs than you by several inches, for every three strides you take he only has to take two. You were doomed from the start really.

One second you're stepping through your doorway and the next a hand is going behind your head cushioning your body from where it hits the wall, another hand at your waist, turning you just a second before you pass through. Your back hits the wall the thud startles you, making you gasp.

You can’t even properly breathe, every breath a hitching hiccup when he leans close to you. Holding you in place so that you can’t slip away again.

Oh, so the pitiful noise was you wasn’t it- your gasping sobs, and the weird thing happening with your vision was tears, carving hot paths down your cheeks.

"Don't be angry- please don't be angry with me Jin- I’m so sorry. Please don't-” your palms are pressed flat against the wall, trembling like a leaf in the middle of a downpour. You smell like a rainstorm, acid rain that pelts and melts statues and cities. A sadness and hidden darkness that seeks to take everything with it when it ebbs and flows.

Please don’t hurt me.

Jin’s whole body goes rigid, every inch of him down to his atoms freezing at your words. He very carefully holds you tighter, hands settling on either shoulder. Jin never means to shackle you with his touch or to hold you against your will but if he lets you go into your nest- he doesn't know what could happen, What other conclusions you might come to on your own and the damage they might do.

Do you really think Jin could hurt you? Has he been such a bad packmate that he has you believing he could ever lay a finger on you out of anger? Do you still not trust them?

Is this the kind of fear they’ve sowed by letting you see the scene with Jungkook and then giving you no explanation for it? Foolishly believing that you would understand they were protecting you without any intervention on their part.

Jin hears the words, even if you don’t say them.

Jin makes a soft rumbling in his chest- as soothing as it is deep. He leans in close, intent on scent marking over your head intent on giving you a little bit of a pheromone rush to calm you down like he's done countless times before. But you flick your chin up, showing your throat; a gesture you should only ever show an alpha and not an omega, even one like Jin so high in the hierarchy. It's a slap in the face.

Showing your neck when you’re afraid, it’s a last-ditch effort to appease a predator. How many times have you had to do that? And how many times had it worked to keep you out of harm's way? How many times hadn’t you been able to escape harm too?

Your mating mark glistens with sweat, a shade darker purple than usual. Bruised looking, taunting Jin with stories and hurts that he doesn’t know how to heal- he can’t fix you if you won’t let him see your wounds. Is this how you got that mating mark? Bearing your neck as a last-ditch effort to get safe?

He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and draws it down, ignoring the stunned look on your face. Blinking away fresh tears in surprise a horrible little wrenching gasp going through your lips that Jin never wants to hear again.

"Listen to me, okay?" you still, but not entirely, your chest still heaving and your breath still coming in these horrible little gasps, not like you feel better but like you're trying not to make too much noise your whole-body trembling. One of your tears drips from your chin onto Jin’s hands and he knows it’s just his imagination but it burns his skin like acid.

His words hover, off his train of thought, and then before you can blink he's picking you up. The ground pulled out from under your feet and his hands swooping- One under your knees, another around your shoulders.

You have to grasp at his shoulders to stay in his arms, calling his name in surprise but he doesn't pause. Jin is strong- but it’s dizzying- the frightening edge to everything as he moves quick- driven by instinct just like you were. Only a few steps through the open door before Jin is depositing you safely in the confines of his nest- the pack's nest. The only safe place for a pup so unhappy- safe for a pup who’s still having a panic attack, gasping breathes that come every few seconds, either hyperventilating already or near it.

He sets you down a little roughly into the nest- too panicked and too hurried as you bounce a little. Jin’s frame is wide, his shoulders have never felt so broad until the momentum from his steps takes him too far and he ends up looming over you, knees splayed wide around you.

But it's a nest- it's meant to be as comfortable and safe as possible. You flop against the pillows and piled blankets, their scents hovering around you in a dizzying cloud so close and so dense. Every line of Jin's body hovering over you, from his hips to his thighs, to his chest, so close the warmth of his body soothes every ache in you.

He looks down at you and for a second it holds himself back from sinking down, covering you with his body so that nothing else can touch you- nothing can hurt you. An omega shielding another with their body in their nest- well- that's about the safest place for a pup to be, add an alpha and you're set.

You whimper as Jin looks down at you. His eyes hot and heavy, not angry- but firm Your brain doesn’t know the difference. His hand on your cheek is soft- but you still flinch away from it- face tilting right into his wrist, as he holds himself above you.

His words don’t come out right with his panic, "I’m never going to hurt you, never. Listen to me okay? You don't have to be afraid because nothing you could do could make me stoop to such a low. here." he takes your hand in his, pressing it over his heart and then fumbling with his shirt, the top button popping off, getting your palm on his skin. "Is my heart beating fast?"

"No" you whimper out. Tears are still hot on your cheeks, dripping down your neck you can’t stop them. You hate how crying makes you feel, dizzy and puffy and ugly. You tremble with the force of keeping your sobs in.

"Do I smell angry?" Jin is still the picture of calm, his voice never rising above normal speaking volume. Low and honey-like he borrowed Jungkook’s scent and let it spill from his mouth. your nose is inches from his wrists but there's nothing there, nothing but the trances of his scent- Jin doesn't even smell upset.

"No."

"Do I look angry?"

"No, but Jin-" he doesn't wait for your answer, scooting back onto his knees, bringing you up and onto him in the same motion with an impressive show of strength. Your thighs end parted around his, his in-between yours, his hands on your hips to seat you firmly in his lap.

Slick blooms in the air when your legs part around his and you settle your full weight into his lap- a remanent of your misbegotten hours and not a sign as he manhandles you close and then closer- as close as possible, bundling up all of your worries and your hurts in his arms. One hand threading through your hair to keep your head pressed to his scent gland and his forearm wrapped tight around your waist, rocking you slightly, a soft humming in his throat, a purr- but not a genuine one.

Jin is so large that even sitting in his lap, you still have to look up to see his face searching it for a hint of anger. He just tucks your face into his shoulder, nose pressed up against his scent gland to breathe in a deep jagged lungful of thick whipped cream, sweet and soft and cloud-like. Gentle and delicate- the opposite of the pack omega who holds you so close, the muscles in in arms poised to snap- to shield you from all the horrible corners of the world-

Even if one of those corners is inside your own head.

Jin has always been a big omega, tall frame and strong shoulders, when he was younger, he faulted himself for it a little- just slightly, wishing he was tiny and dainty like the standard. But he’d trade all that wanting in a heartbeat for this, the strength and comfort that lines his body like a weighted blanket. Jin is strong for a reason and that reason is this.

"Breath in for me- out, there’s a good pup." You hadn't noticed, had you? how you'd been panting even then, breath coming in startled gasps, your lungs expanding and deflating under Jin’s hands at a frightening pace. Don’t pass out- please don’t pass out on me pup.

He takes your hand again, putting it on his chest, breathing in deep and holding it- “like this pup, perfect- there you go” You match your breaths with his, and slowly Slowly- your scent recedes, the storm dimming until it's just fog and mist. Your scent-neutral and a clean slate.

In the middle of Jin’s nest, he holds you and teaches you how to breathe again.

~-~

When you wake, your eyes are puffy and your face feels swollen, sensitive when it brushes against a coverlet, your face hidden beneath a blanket that someone’s pulled over you. Your body is so tired that feels like you’ll sink in between the sheets and become one of the pillows. Maybe that would be a softer life for you, an inanimate object- one that can’t think and feel and hurt and mess perfect things up.

But somehow you doubt it could feel better than this.

The recent past remains distant under the heavy lullaby of A warm chest that expands behind you, another at your front, buffering you like a buoy would bob in the ocean, an ocean made of milk apparently. If the scents of Yoongi and Jin have any bearing on your dreams.

There are rough words on the edge of your consciousness, the way the thunder rumbles on the horizon, hidden lightning, and secret storms hidden under the weight of clouds like you are hidden beneath this blanket. It’s hot underneath, your consciousness a tangle of bodies pressed against yours.

Your mind works at a snail pace and it takes a few minutes of wading through the last vestiges of sleep but eventually, you become more aware of what’s going on around you. The scents that you nose through in the bed and on the air are both comforting and familiar, a balm to the frayed edges of your mind.

There are other people in the room, someone with heavy steps moving, an alpha, and a tired sigh. You burrow further into the warm bundle in front of you to evade it. Long fingers that card through your hair slowly and gently, fingers that scratch at the side of your temples pause when you move, and then start up again.

Only one person touches you like that- Yoongi. Pleasure frissons on the edge of your vision, little mini fireworks of happiness and you burrow further into the bed- the nest and the person in front of you. Though you realize upon further sniffing that this person is not Yoongi- they just smell like Yoongi a lot, Yoongi is the one pressed along your spine. The chest in front of you rumbles as you nuzzle your nose further, catching on an edge- the collar of a shirt, the button of it pressed now to warm skin.

Warn voices as rough as they are tense, the chest in front of you speaks, the pattern of the thunder discernible, “You are not allowed in my nest if you keep talking that way Namjoon- chill. No one’s hurt, we’re both fine, the pup just-“

Something interrupts Jin, an action you cannot see. Your mate responds, his voice quiet behind you, you can only hear Yoongi because he’s so close. “We’re gonna wake her.”

The bed dips under a weight, heavy knees. A loud sucking, like liquid through a straw and a cautious hushed “Jk, quiet down.”

It’s only then that you remember the sex toys, being discovered when you were sure that you wouldn't, the betrayal on Jin's face, the running, and Jin chasing after you. Having a panic attack so violent that you passed out near the end, black splotches that danced on the edge of your vision until they descended and took you with them.

You play dead, trying to keep your body still so that they don't know you're awake, but your breath goes stuttery. Your nose aches when you breathe in, throat raw from crying. It aches, your mouth dry. You don’t want to move, you don’t want them to know you’re awake, to confront your betrayal yet. You're not ready.

There must be something in your body that betrays you, a sudden stiffness to your bones that lets gives you away because everyone falls silent. Jin shifts, his hand smoothing up and down your back a little less gently. Yoongi’s hand is in your hair still soothing you, but rubbing a little harder fingers tucking your hair behind your ear and out of your eyes to check if they’re open but theyre screwed shut tight. Your mate whispers your name, and you answer with a quiet whine.

“Looks like the pup’s decided to join the land of the living.” Lips on your forehead glide in the shape of a smile. “How are you feeling sweetheart?” You squirm tirelessly, your body too warm, the blankets are so heavy here. The air is heavy too, feels like gasping down syrup when you breathe in (though that could be just Jungkook's scent, as every present and as thick as ever- it coats the bed in thick layers).

You keep your brow pressed tight to the side of Jin's jaw, feeling his slight stubble, 5 o'clock shadows that's just a little chafing. “Don’t Wanna wake up. Scared.”

Jin’s scent shifts before he gets a handle on it, sitting up slightly turning your world from vibrant panoramas and ecstatic clouds into this- the nest room, the pillows are not the shadows of an oncoming storm and Namjoon’s soft humming at your words is not thunder.

“I know sweetheart, I know” there is something so sad in Jin’s voice, a breaking too. he sits up completely, taking you with him and settling you against his front. The metal button of his slacks dug into your stomach with every breath, he hadn’t even gotten up to change, had he?

Did he sit with you here until the others got home? How long have you been asleep? the light outside betrays early evening, it's not dark in the bedroom, but it's shadowy enough to turn on a light.

When you open your eyes, the only light on is the one in the closet.

Jungkook is looking a shade past devilish in the door, his outfit a little more formfitting than his usual ‘just got done at the gym’ look that you've grown accustomed to. You remember- they were on a date- and shit- they’d come home to this, you hope you didn’t ruin it.

He wishes you could appreciate how the green houndstooth pattern does wonders for his skin but he’s more concerned with your mental state right now. Giving a particularly hard and loud suck at his half-finished drink, “Give me a second, can’t eat food in the nest. after that I’ll cuddle the fuck out of you.”

He gives another particularly hard suck, the sound rippling, as Jin and Namjoon have a staredown over your head. Namjoon’s perched on the edge of the bed, also in more date-like clothes than usual. Jin's chin raised in challenge.

"Let me in- the god damn nest- Jin-"

"Not until you stop smelling like a god damn bar." the pack alpha whines, you sniff at the air and true to Jin’s words- the alpha does smell angry, the coffee to his scent has gone all baileys Irish cream and not comfortable mornings. At a single whiff, you re-tuck your face back into Jin’s shoulder. Taking a fresh breath of the pack omegas scent to clear your aching nose of it. Jin gives Namjoon a look over the top of your head as if to say 'told you so.'

If ever there was the question of who the real leader of the pack was- it's answered with that little interaction.

On the way home, Jungkook had dreamed about telling you about his date, he’d have loved to gush to you between now and dinner and shared all the secret special looks with you, hoping maybe- that talking about his date with Namjoon would make you want to come on one too.

There are more important things to worry about and talk through now. Especially given the fact that when he’d walked into this room his second favorite dildo had been sitting in the middle of the floor and not safely locked away in the closet for later use.

Unusual if not a little funny- but actually not funny at all when it made you smell so sad. That had certainly de-railed his and Namjoon's afternoon plans for those sex toys, you're a lot more important.

The dates are always fun, the half flirting half careful touches that reaffirm their bonds. That’s a pretty way of saying that Jungkook loves when he gets to flaunt his pack alpha to the world. Jungkook lives for the jealous looks other people give them when they all go out, the burning want that people have for his situation but could never sate. How lucky they must think him to be the youngest in a pack like this.

They haven’t all gone out in a while- because going out without you would feel like they were leaving you out of something that you belonged to. One-on-one dates feel easier by comparison.

Jungkook has daydreamed it though, back and forth- as many iterations as it takes to scratch that particular itch in his brain. Daydreams full of picnics in fields of flowers and you in a long-patterned dress, daydreams full of beach dates, late at night or early in the morning- spontaneous when you wake up at 4 am to see the sunrise.

Or out at some bar or fancy restaurant- maybe one of Namjoon's hospital fundraisers with the 8 of you dressed to the nines on the receiving end of every envious stare.

He wonders what it would feel like to be at the center of those stares with you. To have you draped over his lap or his arm, contained on a single chair to better be watched by the alphas and by Jin- not to let the precious omegas stray too far. Would you be shy at a stranger’s jealousy or would you stare them down the way that he does?

He imagines leaning in and teasing at your ear with his teeth and with his words. “Which one of us do you think they wish they were? You or me? or do you think they wish they were our alphas?”

There he goes again- Jungkook's daydreams getting away from him again and distracting him from the immediate and very important present.

His point is that it’s always a good day if he goes out with his pack, spending time away from domesticity makes you appreciate it more. Even if it had Jungkook daydreaming about something else that he’s not allowed to want, not yet- not until Namjoon and Jin say it’s time.

It’s frustrating- the waiting. Jungkook is admittedly not the most patient person in the universe, but Namjoon and Jin have rarely if ever lead the pack astray and Jungkook trusts them implicitly the same way he trusts his own heart to keep time.

Somehow coming home to this does not violate the sanctity of the day, nor had Namjoon bolting at the first scent of your panic, Leaving Jung-kook at the door, sipping at his almond milk peanut butter and dark chocolate smoothy. “Shit- Joon- no-“ running the same way someone might call back a dog that had accidentally gotten off-leash, chasing a squirrel or something.

Now there is you, blinking awake in Jin's nest- apparently having discovered their sex toy collection, if Jin's tense explanation minutes ago was anything to go by. "I don't know which one made her panic but I'm never letting her get near them again- she- she had a panic attack Joonie. We need to be more careful- I can't believe we just- left them out in the open like that- what were we thinking?"

“I think you were thinking that she was less interested than she obviously is Jin- she’s not a pup- no matter how much you call her that.” Jungkook’s jab hadn’t made the best impression. But that's a suspicion that they couldn’t confirm until you wake.

But the bickering is quiet now with you sniffling and shifting as you slowly wake. The air is still tense as the two of them stare each other down, Jungkook sucks at his smoothy extra hard. The shift in the air is near tangible, the second Namjoon and Jin’s scents stop pushing at each other like two opposing storm fronts. Jin’s hand shifts from pressing at the alphas shoulder, keeping him at arm's length and away from you- to rounding out softer.

Namjoon is not a threat- Namjoon is the perfect solution and one moment Jin is pushing him away from the next he’s tugging him closer and there is a warm chest pressing against your back again. Beside you, Yoongi sighs making room for Namjoon.

You close your eyes again, though it’s not because it’s bright. You don’t want to look at Namjoon- to know how he’s looking at you- if he’s feeling betrayed. You know you don’t have any right to feel this upset or feel this scared when it’s your own fault this happened.

But the fear builds and you have to know how upset he is- ripping it off like a band-aid, You look up, and from the look in his eyes and Jungkook’s, hovering on you in the same way that Jin looks, a little unsure, like they don’t know if they should be angry or not. Immediately makes you retuck your face down below the covers.

(You’d never know it wasn’t anger- but just the fact that everyone in this room wants to smother you with their bodies and kisses and soft little “it’s okay pup’s” that would turn you into a melted pup-puddle in the nest).

“Honey” Yoongi’s voice is that- honey and chiding in equal measure, you don’t want to look at your mate's face either.

Your words are muffled “I know I can’t hide forever just-“ you want thirty more seconds of this closeness with Jin, before he tells you how badly you fucked up, how much this breach of trust hurt him. You sniffle, tears threatening you once again when it hits you what you've done.

“Sweetheart it’s okay.” Somehow you can’t believe Namjoon when he says that, even when he folds himself back behind you, his arms searching for your body underneath the blanket, hidden by the layers of fluff but still there holding around your waist. A pressure that soothes up and down your spine.

A safe harbor that you never knew you needed and never thought you’d feel. Namjoon, Namjoonie- hooking his head over one of your shoulders, his cheek pressed to your temple, smelling safe and warm and so big behind you. His scent finally shifting from liquor back to its usual coffee. Namjoon and Jin are the two largest in the pack and as the smallest you’re practically hidden between them.

The way you inhale jaggedly- air that doesn’t go in right like your chest is too tight to expand properly, makes Namjoon want to grab his stethoscope from his doctor's bag and check your lungs himself. He repeats nearly the same words that Jin did minutes ago, nose nuzzling through the top of your head. “Breath sweetheart, there you go. That’s a good pup.”

Yoongi wiggles closer to you under the covers, hand finding yours easily- fighting for real estate. This is the only reason why he’d ever really been worried about your adjustments to the pack- that he’d have to fight for an inch edgewise. But maybe the others do have months of comforting and cuddling to make up for, yoongi will let their smothering of you slide even if he's used to comforting you being a one beta job.

And besides, your scent shifts the more Namjoon touches you, sweetness that breaks through the rain, ebbing and flowing rainstorms. All Yoongi really wants at this moment is to make you feel better, once you’re truly settled- then they can talk about what he came home to.

Namjoon pets over your head, re-tucking your hair behind your ear you tilt your face more into Jin and his palm falls on the nape of your neck almost unintentionally.

Every cell in Namjoon’s body stands up straight. It’s not a scruff- it couldn’t be without Namjoon purposefully squeezing the back of your neck, pinching both of your scent glands, and depositing his own scent there. But at the barest suggestion of that kind of contact, you melt forward into Jin’s chest, going truly boneless.

You don't know why your body thought that Namjoon would scruff you. Even if you want it- he's not your pack alpha and your body would have only had that extreme reaction if he was- if your bodies recognized each other that way. It’s not a conscious choice. Alphas can scruff omegas that they have no connection to but it doesn't have the same reaction- more likely to evoke anxiety and a paralyzing fear than relaxation and omega space.

Namjoon would also have to want to settle you, his body would have to be ready to deposit his own settling pheromones against your skin to make you relax even slightly. It’s foolish to hope that he would- especially now.

Namjoon’s hand leaves the back of your neck before it has the chance to do any real damage, “Sorry” Namjoon sounds chagrinned, but he doesn’t move much farther.

Jungkook is happy to set the smoothy on the dresser, hopping up and into the nest, Jungkook is hard and solid, another comforting presence around you as he jostles the four of you.

He lies back, curled partially around Namjoon’s back, leaning on one shoulder. His arms flexing under his body’s own weight. Hand on your calf over the covers squeezing reassuringly, then freezing.

"I really hope I didn't just squeeze your ass but if I did, I'm not gonna apologize for it." He teases, grinning up at you.

“Jungkookie-”

You fidget, and like Yoongi can sense or feel down your mating bond how close to being overwhelmed you are, he sighs, putting a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and pulling the alpha back, he goes- but not easily. His whole body tight, eyes threatening- like if Yoongi’s not careful Namjoon could also decide to scruff him too.

It would work- Yoongi knows it would.

“Let me take her for a second.” The transfer is easy and smooth, you even help a little even though your body feels like it's weighed down with lead weights. Muscles sore and tired from all of that adrenaline cycling through. Energy that you never expended but still paid for, Yoongi knows you must be exhausted.

Yoongi’s hands are cool on the back of your neck, scratching gently then holding you hard. You don’t always get touch averse but Yoongi knows how to hold you when the flares of it are passing, it might only last a few minutes and maybe- it was just a lot to wake up to so many hands on you and then Namjoon’s almost scruffing.

Your hands tug insistently on the front of Yoongi’s jacket and his hands go hard around your waist, under your shirt. Skin to skin like you need- the weird half touch starvation and half revulsion- a dizzying mixture until you finally pull him closer. Yoongi's nose gets pressed to your mating mark and all he gets is fear, acrid rain, waves of it.

“Oh pup, you don't- they're not, I’m- we're not angry.” Yoongi doesn't know what else to say, even less what to do. You can’t figure out if he’s read between the lines, seen the mess you made of their sex toy collection or if they talked about it before you woke.

Maybe this doesn’t surprise him, maybe he’s seen something, a hovering in you- a neediness that was characteristic but also deeper than your usual wants ran. Or maybe he’d accidentally opened your laptop to look up something home-reno-related on YouTube and found it open to something unsavory. Either way, your mate knows the hovering secret look that Jin sends him, something like, 'don’t- just don’t bring it up.'

But that’s not going to leave you satisfied, avoidance won’t solve this. You turn your face up to Jin, eyes swimming with a fresh set of unshed tears, it's only going to get worse, you’re only going to feel worse if you don’t apologize, your words and your pulse jumping. You will not let yourself go non-verbal now even if your mouth feels so tacky. You're as safe as you're ever going to be with Yoongi's arms around you. Your mate won’t let anything happen to you; your mate will keep you safe.

A horrible hidden voice that thinks you are not deserving of all this love and care says that if Yoongi lets Jin hurt you then you will accept it, then it’s deserved. Maybe it would be easier if Jin didn’t look just as unsure as you do, teeth digging into his lower lip hard enough that it makes it white.

“I'm sorry Jinnie- I don’t know what I was thinking I-.” Now, this just won’t do- having you and Yoongi even inches away in his nest is too much for Jin to bear and he scoops both of you up, ignoring Yoongi's "yah" his muscles straining, trying to find a good medium between holding you and letting you and Yoongi have your space.

The blanket falls from around your shoulders, leaving you feeling relieved to get cold air on your skin and yet- overwhelmed with the sudden lack of barrier.

“Sweetheart, it’s fine, I’m just-“ Jin only has an inch of frustration, an inch of anything negative for this whole situation. Maybe it’s better to expel it now than store it and let it build up to resentment however slight. Kind of like Jungkook’s punishments- it’s better to get it out at once and deal with it so that the negative emotions don’t linger. Jin wipes away your tears with his thumb.

“If you have questions- I wish you’d told us- rather than look around on your own.” Jin’s voice shakes, “Without explanation, the things in those boxes can be scary. I'm sorry we scared you. I’m sorry I scared you before- I shouldn’t have chased you- I should have known better. I’m sorry pup, I’ll never do that again- I promise.”

It doesn't make sense, why Jin is apologizing, you shake your head stubbornly, messy hair jumping with your movements. “I’m not scared- they didn’t scare me not really? but I shouldn't have even been in your room without asking-”

Jin freezes, sitting up rim rod straight- “what?” the words come out in a rush, word vomit like you can’t keep them in. Your hands roll in the front of Yoongi’s shirt, toying with the edge anxiously. Your mate's hands instantly rub closer, running up and down your arm, under the sleeve, and over your shoulder, massaging gently.

“After Monday- when I saw you and Joonie and jk- I just wanted to make sure he was okay- and then I fell down this rabbit hole on twitter and before I realized it- I was looking at like- so so so much porn and there was this video with this little cat mask and-"

"Woh- woh- woh sweetheart- I'm gonna need you to slow down and back up- cat mask?”

You swallow. Peering up at namjoon below your eyelashes. “I looked it up, BDSM, that’s what you guys do? right?”

Jin feels like he's choking on his own tongue, his own saliva drowning him. Namjoon’s hands' fists in the sheets, Jungkook has the gal to laugh at their twin pairs of flushed cheeks. The youngest omega rolls over so that he’s curled around you and Yoongi, pressing his face into the beta’s hip. Yoongi jumps at the contact- apparently not expecting it. Jin might find it strange if he wasn’t so focused on you.

Jin doesn’t know what to say, even less what to do. Swallowing hard and looking down at you. You turn a little, fiddling with Yoongi's hand, to look down at Jungkook, still nuzzling close to the two of you.

“Now that’s something I didn’t expect- but I can’t say I’m not happy.” He giggles, muffled by the fabric.

Your hand falls to his fluffy hair, "You mean you're not angry that I went through your things?"

Jungkook shrugs "as long as you didn't use them on your own, I honestly don't think anyone cares, and that's only because Joonie and Jin like to watch and look after us when we-"

"Kookie!" if he was wearing his collar that would get him more than a firm tug.

The grin he sends Namjoon and Jin is nothing but mischievous. “Pup-“ but Jungkook’s already pulling himself up, sitting on his knees and leaning in to bump his forehead on your shoulder, giggling.

He cocks his head at you like a bird, “I'm more curious about your research- what did you like- what didn’t you like? Wait no- I Wanna guess- pet play- yeah- definitely pet play- and oh! what about bondage- “

Jin laces a hand in Jungkook’s hair, tugging hard, “pup- now’s not the time.”

Jungkook doesn’t look upset, peering up at Jin with the widest puppy eyes possible. “But hyung you have to have noticed how she really really likes being called pup so it only makes sense that if you called her puppy-“ You whine, high pitched and open.

Yoongi wishes there was a way to steal you away, he’d rather have heard about this in private before- hell Yoongi isn't sure you shouldn't talk about this alone and then re-join the group later.

While being with the pack and talking this over with them is not unsafe for you this might be better handled on a more one-on-one basis. Not with Jungkook’s playful teasing and especially after the mention of bondage which has Yoongi's cheeks flaming. A quiet reminder of Yoongi's own preferences that Jungkook is well aware of (that little shit).

The ropes in that box belonged to Yoongi first, and you don’t need to know that yet.

So the teasing smirk really isn't for you- no- it's for Yoongi.

It's not like he's never thought about this with you, about what it would feel like to push you into a more obedient headspace during sex, something softer and more pliant. If he's honest with himself- you've long displayed submissive tendencies and visibly enjoyed it when he acted more dominant. It's not truly anything like what Namjoon and Jin have with the others- nothing quite so formal, but Yoongi can't say he's surprised by this turn of events, not even a little.

God- it feels like you’re in the middle of a tug of war, Jungkook’s hands on your sides, Yoongi’s on your back, and Jin’s on your shoulders. The back of your neck still tingling from Namjoon’s touch. So many hands, so much touching. You feel dizzy with it, but it’s Jin that cups your cheek, tilting your face up to his commanding your attention.

“If you were so curious why, didn’t you just ask us about it?”

“Scared.” Words are hard, and for you, they’re even harder when Jin makes you meet his gaze like that.

“What were you scared of?”

“Couldn’t- screw it up, I love- I love the cuddling, the- the kisses.” you’re stuttery, your hand’s laced with Jungkook’s and he squeezes back a rhythm as if to say 'I love it too' without words. It settles you- brings back your words a bit. Enough to articulate this.

Jin makes a questioning noise in his chest, not a whine and not a purr, and for what feels the millionth time in your life living here with them- you wish that they just got it- that you didn’t have to say what they’re all thinking. Hoping to let you down softly by not addressing it isn’t helping.

You hang your head, looking at your hands because you can't bear to look into Jin's eyes any longer. “I don’t want to guilt you into giving more than you want to give and I know you don’t want this with me. I’ve messed this up with my own curiosity- I shouldn’t even be curious about your sex life- it’s not my place or my right to know that information. I’m not worth a spot in this pack and that’s even more clear now.”

The pack is their pack- it’s not yours. No matter how much you want it to be. Namjoon is not your pack alpha and Jin is not your pack omega. Even though you’re in the middle of their nest right now, their faces are ready and waiting and utterly open-mouthed in shock at what you say.

Maybe Jungkook isn’t the only one with a brain full of misfiring neurons and betrayed genetics. Maybe your past has shaped the way you think about yourself so fully that you can’t possibly read between the lines of their confusion.

Has all of the softness over the last few months meant so little for you, Jin cooking for you- calling you pup, letting you into their hearts and their lives so fluidly. Why do you assume so instantly that more intimacy will screw it up?

Does the fact that Jungkook’s basically gone to second base with you on their couch every afternoon since you first kissed mean nothing to you? Your words don’t clarify anything, making all their heads spin.

Jungkook doesn’t want to call you dumb for a multitude of reasons but screw it- he's pissed. Finally he understands why Namjoon and Jin have such firm reactions to it when he talks down about himself.

“Hyung, what’s the kink called where you’re attracted to stupid people?”

Jin’s hand is already in Jungkook’s hair but it’s Namjoon who reaches out turning Jungkook's head forcibly to make the omega look at him. The lilt to Namjoon's eyes is dark and as threatening as the pack alpha ever gets with their youngest (a title that jungkook won't have for much longer)

“If you don’t settle, I will do it myself and it won’t just be with words and a few tugs Jungkook.” Somehow- the full name does more to settle him than anything else would. The warmth in his cheeks at being scolded gets pinched at by Namjoon’s fingers a little meanly. “Am I clear?”

“Yes alpha.”

Namjoon articulates his words very carefully. Unfortunately- this kind of misalignment isn’t anything they’re not used to- it reminds him terribly of Hoseok and the state that he'd first come to the pack in. A heart full of hurts and hands that didn't know how to go about healing.

The first time they ever kissed, Namjoon still remembers his words, how surprised he'd been that the pack alpha had leaned across the kitchen table while they tried to figure out the billing- Hobi who’s always had more of an eye for keeping everything organized than any of them.

‘Oh! If you’re feeling needy, I can call one of the others! I’m sorry you had to kiss me.’

I’m sorry you had to kiss me is no different from I’m not worth a spot in this pack. Both say the same thing, I am not worthy of your affection and your love. No one's ever said they loved me and meant it.

There are some things that abuse takes from you and others that it gives and teaches you. Both you and Hoseok have learned that your gut reaction and assumption should be that no one wants you, that you are unlovable and undesirable to a fault, even if it's the furthest thing from the truth.

At least they’ve got one person on their side here, at least you believe that Yoongi loves you- that Yoongi wants you. That will help them convincing you that you're wrong. Challenging someones world view is never easy, especially when it comes to a view they hold of themselves. But they’ll try as long as they need too- Namjoon knows that they’ll sit here in this nest until you understand that none of this affection has been put upon them, that all of it is gladly had and sought after.

Falling in love with people- maybe it’s not a choice, but to nurture this actively and carefully is certainly an act of effort and purpose. In the same way one might choose to nurture a garden after finding a flower that they liked, store the seeds for later and plant them when the ground is warm and ready and the sun is less than shy.

The sunset cuts perfect slices of orange sunlight across the room, turning the crown of namjoon’s head a little halo when he leans back, vanishing the next second when he leans closer to you. Like orange slices or one of the pans in one of Tae’s eyeshadow pallets labeled peachy daydreams.

Hobi was always the one who was best with plants, Tae a close second, both of them full of a hidden light that growing things recognize and lean towards. Namjoon has always been too clumsy even though he likes plants and likes them a lot. Half of the reason why Hobi collects plants is because he knows it makes the pack alpha happy.

Namjoon is not a little kid with a bright plastic trowel trying to nurture this love- he is a pack alpha. And he knows what to do with a chance when it’s given to him.

Namjoon’s hand remains on the back of Jungkook’s neck and will stay there as a very careful reminder until this conversation is done. Even though he looks to you, voice as soft as velvet and twice as careful with what he says as usual. “Can you repeat back to me what you just said, line by line sweetheart?”

“I love the cuddling? the kissing?” you look away, fingers playing with Yoongi’s shirt still, something omegan in you satisfied by the texture. Your skin feels hot, and you tuck your shoulders in. Namjoon strokes down your back, one long line his knuckles skim against Yoongi's chest when you shift and turn to look at him.

“We know sweetheart, we like it too- keep going.”

“I don’t want to guilt you into this?” you whisper uncertainly, you tuck your chin. Jin manhandles you slightly, setting you out and getting his hand on your calf to massage it lightly. Your shoulders are in Yoongi’s lap and your feet in Jin’s. He moves you every few seconds to try and find the right position. A new soft thing to be incorporated into his nest- obviously at the center where only the most important things go.

It’s not exactly the statement that gave Namjoon the most pause, but it’s a fine place to start. “Why do you think that’s the only reason why we’d want to have that with you- is guilt the only possible motivator? Or could there be another?” Namjoon will take the time to walk you through this, even if it takes all night.

“I- I don’t know- I guess I think that because I’m me?” you avoid asking at their affection like someone would avoid putting their hand on a hot burner. But you say it like it’s the perfect explanation. Like the words warrant no further questions.

Namjoon’s patience is infinite, even Yoongi shifts restlessly behind you waiting for the breaking or the tell-tale displeasure in your scent, anything that shows you need to be whisked away into privacy.

Yoongi has been waiting for this moment since he first brought you into this house, has been waiting for them to fall in love with you as he did and voice it. But it’s not enough to simply happen, you need to want it to happen too. The smell of your displeasure still lingers- an oncoming rainstorm like a threat.

Yoongi's arms tighten around your waist when Jin says “Please explain what you mean by that.”

Maybe in the future making you talk about your feelings will become some sort of punishment, and they'll make you unpack what you mean like this in front of all of them and articulate your emotions so fully and completely only make you write lines of the opposite. Bartering kind words about yourself, ripped from trembling lips, for kisses and orgasams.

You don’t want to say it, you know how the truth sounds, how self-deprecating and horrible they think you’re being to yourself when in reality- it’s just a fact.

You’d backtrack and take it back just to avoid this- argument that you can feel hovering below the surface but it's hard to lie and even harder to consider getting away with it when their eyes are trained on you like this, examining your every word under a microscope. You will be honest about why you think you’re not worth this- even if they have to wring it out of you.

“You know why. I’m not the same as other omegas- I’m damaged.” Yoongi moves to cup your cheeks, well acquainted with this part of you but nervous.

Jungkook makes a dismayed noise, sitting up, hair all sticking this way and that looking more put out than he should be. “Even if that was true, why would that make you any less deserving than I am? Then Jin is?”

Jungkook’s equal parts indignant and endeared, not grasping the brevity of these words and the seriousness with which you confess them. But maybe things shouldn’t be as tense as Jin feels they are. Maybe this isn’t dangerous. The five of you safe in his nest. The scale tips back and forth- good and bad, happy one moment then not the next.

Your scent swoops, the sweetness dimming and transforming into rain as you bite your lower lip, Yoongi pulls you tighter to his chest. A caution in his words, his worry endless when it comes to you. “Guys-“

“I’m just- I’m not- I’m not anything like you are kookie.”

You shift out of Yoongi’s arms even though he tries not to let you go, to keep you in a place where those words feel less lethal. You lie down closer to Jungkook, cheek to the side of Jin’s nest, rubbing your cheek a little an unintentional scent mark.

You smell so sad, so small too, the scent barely fluffing out. Maybe your body is just too tired to properly scent mark, it's an underlying sign of sadness and a belief so complete that you believe you shouldn’t even try to leave a bit of yourself here in a place of such intimacy.

Seokjin is going to raid your entire fucking closet if that’s what it takes- putting every item of yours in this nest to stake his claim- so that it smells so completely of you that you won’t be able to ignore the fact that they want you. You wouldn’t even need your clothes, would you? Jin could get you in his alphas clothes so that you always smelled like them, maybe that would make you finally feel safe. His nostrils flare at your words and the urge to scent mark you into a happy haze almost takes over.

It only matters if you feel safe, not if you actually are, every kind word and promise they speak only stands to matter if you believe them. There is nothing that could hurt you here or in this nest, but none of that matters to Jin if you still smell so unsettled.

You reach out a hand, lying so close to kookie but yet so far, you move to cup his cheek but think better of it letting it fall to the comforter limp- like the action would take more energy than you have in your little body.

Have you ever been hesitant to touch him? It feels like ages ago that you ever felt unsure like this. You stare at him, eyes going from his delicate jaw to his wide eyes like the backside of the universe. His eyes twinkle at you almost like they can see every wish you've ever made and tried to pin to a passing shooting star.

“You’re- you’re the perfect omega, you have to know that right? You’re happy all the time and you make them laugh more than you make them worried, you’re pretty enough and strong enough for anything. You’re- you’re very worth loving alright?”

All of them are too chicken, too chicken to say what they actually want to and maybe that’s the problem. Predictably, Jungkook is the one with the most balls out of the three of them.

Jungkook barely lets your words hover in the air before he retaliates, his words a near hiss at first “and you’re not? what makes you think that you’re not everything I am? you make them smile too- I’ve never seen Yoongi so-“ Jungkook’s eyes flicker up to meet your mates, tears tugging, jungkook is an angry crier. “happy- he’s happiest when he’s with you. He loves you.”

“Yoongi was a fluke.”

Jungkook surges forward closing the distance between the two of you pressing forward to kiss you clean on the mouth, trying to put every ounce of love and wanting that he has in his little body into the kiss, pulling himself over you to press you into the sheets.

His tongue rolls hotly against yours, wet and exploring and you sigh kissing back- but his lips dominate the kiss, he nibbles, then bites softly at your lower lip, teasing. If Jungkook’s mouth tastes like honey, golden and sweet- what does the rest of him taste like?

If you can’t believe that you’re worth this love just as much as him- then maybe he can give you a little bit of his- just a drop of his sunshine. Maybe it’s futile, maybe you can’t transport self-worth from one person to another or make them believe it with just a kiss, but Jungkook’s going to try and try his hardest to make you see what he does- mark his words. Even if it takes years and years of kisses and a love so incandescent, you’ll burn up with it.

He keeps his forehead pressed to yours, nuzzling in with his nose, even when he breaks apart, pressing you into the nest like it will make you feel how serious he is, how much he believes the words, “I promise that he’s not.”

Where are the alphas? They should be back here doing their job of loving you senseless. Jungkook doesn’t want to be patient, he wants it to happen now. Namjoon is the only one here and he’s pressing his luck by keeping his distance. “If we didn’t care about you- we wouldn’t worry.”

There is a single tear at the corner of your eye. You can’t respond to the words, a whine dying in your throat as you nod. Not entirely convinced, not yet.

It’s no surprise that Jungkook’s words make you want to cry a little. They care for you they care for you they maybe love you runs over your head, same sounds but different meanings. Thoughts babbling like water over river rocks, bubbling up into little warm tears that speckle your cheeks.

“Oh pup.” You choke on your words, hands scrabbling at Jungkook’s back to pull him in closer, and the other omega tucks his chin over your shoulder. Molding his body in your shape. Let me imitate all the ways you are good at being loved and loving, let me learn, please.

A hand goes in your hair again, thick and wider than the others, Namjoon. Namjoon Is looking down at you, eyes swimming with something that looks an offal lot like pain, he scoots forward, pausing for a moment before he leans over Jungkook, he moves softly and slowly so he doesn’t startle you. Jungkook lets his mouth slide down your neck, teeth teasing more and more.

The tear on your cheek won't linger for long as Namjoon presses his lips to the spot it’s infected, wiping it away in the tenderest way he can imagine. Kissing away the first tear and then the second. Your sadness trapped in the corner of his mouth forever and your cheek sparking with how gentle he was- skin so sensitive from just a small kiss on the cheek.

You’re embarrassed by the small gasp you let out. Jungkook’s kiss made you breathless, chest heaving once again- but you’re embarrassed at the tiny, almost near-silent noise that you make when Namjoon just simply kisses your cheek. Mouth lingering and then pressing again. Pecking first at one and then the other, thumb hovering on your jaw and then your mouth.

Your lips part, your breath teasing on your skin. But he doesn't kiss you there. Not yet- not with your sadness still on his tongue. No- when the pack alpha kisses you for the first time it will be a happy moment, and you won't even remember this or feeling so sad with them touching you. Namjoon can feel your first kiss hovering in the air and saves it for a different day.

When he pulls back, the pack alpha doesn't look offended or bothered, and you wonder why you expect him to be even though he’s the one that kissed you. He scoots closer and Jungkook parts from you, just a little blinking up at Namjoon in tandem.

Jungkook doesn’t look jealous that their alpha has kissed you and after a quick look at Jin- neither does the other omega. He’s looking at you with a small smile playing on his face, but the pack alpha doesn’t let you look away from him for long, taking your chin in his hand and tipping your face up to his. Thumb pressed to the edge of your lip.

“Jungkookies right. We worry about you all the time- I worry about you all the time.” Namjoon sucks in a shallow breath, “we worry If you’re safe at home and if you’re happy. That’s what we want, but not-” Namjoon swallows, steadying himself. “But not all that we want. If you want to be apart of this- apart of our dynamic with Jungkookie, like what you saw- if that is something that you want or wanted to explore in the future, then we can make it happen.”

“At your pace” Jin affirms, hand sliding down Yoongi’s wrist and squeezing at the betas hand reassuringly.

The alpha nods, “at your pace, and safely” Namjoon agrees. Jin rolls his eyes with an endeared glance at the younger who’s watching Namjoon like the pack alpha has just given him the best gift on Christmas morning.

“God knows this one has a proclivity for all things dangerous, and I don’t know if Namjoon could handle another sub like Jungkookie-“

“Hey!”

Namjoon grins, ducking down like he can hide his smile from you all. “not- that you’ve agreed to be that yet, we should talk more. You shouldn’t decide if you want that with us tonight, you should sit on it.”

“But if you don’t want to then don’t promise- “

“Listen to me.” Namjoon has never hinted at a controlling or dangerous tone with you before. But the seriousness is plain on his face. He dares to speak the words without startling you. “You do not have to worry about what we want and if we want you. You are not forcing us, this is our choice- as much as it is yours. Do you understand me?”

“Yes” Namjoon’s eyes quirk, and you blush, trying to look away but not managing it. He waits on bated breath and behind you, you can feel Yoongi’s small grumble, a happy noise.

“Yes alpha.” You finally amend, Cheeks flaming.

Jungkook has at least taught you one thing, Namjoon leans forward, pressing another kiss to your forehead that makes you jump. A little reward for being a “good pup.” He croons, fingers now daring to glide down your throat, you squeak when the brush against your scent gland. Sensitive, skin that only a few people have touched and only fewer have loved. You and Namjoon linger close even though his fingers leave you. And behind you, another hand joins the fray.

Jin strokes a finger from your temple to your jaw, massaging at your scent gland lightly, rubbing his wrist along your neck in much the same way Yoongi had, marking you. Jungkook gives an indignant huff, moving to bite Jin's hand before he can snatch it away with a laugh. "Hey! I found this spot first! find another to mark."

The pack omega just marked you. It’s not the first time- but here in his nest- it means something different. You turn your face up to Jinnie, to watch him as he does it.

Lips parting as Jungkook's kisses to your neck turn to little nibbles and then to sucks, he's never given you a hickey before though he's tried before Jin had the Opportunity to stop him- but he doesn't stop the youngest omega now, petting over your head and grumbling while Jungkook sucks a mark onto your neck. Every few seconds laving his tongue over the sensitive area making you gasp.

Yoongi and Namjoon watch, eyes swimming with something undefinable as you do it. You’re not ready to assess Jungkook’s words, to believe it yet. It’s dangerous- the last time someone loved you that wasn’t Yoongi- things didn’t go well.

You blink up at Jin, glad for the distraction from Jungkook’s words and his attention, they drink down the way your pupils dilate, trying not to lose yourself to the exquisite torture of Jungkook's mouth. After a dozen moment of careful sucking where you struggle and fail not to show how much you're enjoying it. his mouth leaves your skin with a pop; ducking down to kiss the red mark with a loud smack, "there!" a satisfied hum in his throat.

Love is filling Yoongi’s throat, so thick and dense at the picture of the four of you all snuggled close like that, watching the way you turn your neck subtly so that Jin can see, an approving hum- That he doesn’t even realize when he starts to cry.

Yoongi’s chocolate scent has been more oceany and sea-salty for a while (he can't control it like jin can- the anxiety of the last few minutes has been eating him alive). The four of your heads shoot up at his little noise, and he opens his arms. You’re already pulling yourself over to him.

“what’s wrong Yoongi- are you-“ he leans his cheek into your hand, letting the few tears that want to come out come out.

“I’m just-“ he thinks back, the supercut of the last few months, your abuse and the last year hasn’t been easy on either of you. His heart aches when he thinks back to the two of you so hopeless, the first time he dared to kiss you and how you flinched away- if you’d told that Yoongi that he’d one day be watching you giggle through a ticklish hickey given by Jungkook well- he wouldn’t have believed you, would have called you crazy or worse.

Things are not entirely okay yet, there are still hidden demons, hidden secrets, but this isn’t terrible. Maybe things won’t be better forever, maybe there are other challenges, the demons in your head aren’t entirely exorcised- he knows that they won’t be for a while, that it will take more than kind words and a suit of armor to slay that dragon.

But this is good- a better turn of events of today than he’d thought possible when he’d gotten a tense call from Jin, voice hushed because you’d cried yourself to sleep on his chest and he didn’t want to wake you.

Yoongi knows to appreciate the good moments when they come, to store them gently and tide himself over for the moments that are not- this moment will live- glowing and lovely in his chest like a stubborn flower that just won’t die. An invasive species gladly welcomed through naivety or hubris.

Namjoon grins at him- “oh you fucking sap.”

“I am not a sap!” only Yoongi can look absolutely adorable with his wet pink cheeks and pout while still managing to look indignate. “I’m just- I'm just fucking happy okay.” Your mate's hands on you are as gentle as always while Jungkook whines behind you at the loss of his new favorite chew toy.

Yoongi is so expressive with his body and he holds you now, hands skimming up before settling on your shoulders. He sniffles wetly, lifting his head from where he was nuzzling into the side of your head, the spot where your hair gets knotty after you sleep. Yoongi is in love with every inch of- even the disjointed edges.

“I’m okay, just give me a second.” For weeks, he’ll wonder how you made it this far, his chest is so tight with pride he might burst. He wonders if this is what it feels like when a baby bird spreads their winds, his bones press to your bones and he peers up at you like you are a marvel.

You settle yourself back after kissing him on the forehead- a move maybe imitated from Namjoon- but maybe you learn how best to love from people loving you and it feels like a hello from the alpha across the room when your lips touch his temple. You play with the hairs on the back of his nape, like you’re trying to reassure him that you’re still here when you turn back to Jin.

Its just one last apology, you promise the last time you’ll say sorry for this. “I’m sorry for going through your things, without asking, and I’m sorry for invading your privacy when I should have just asked, I know it’s not an excuse for my behavior, but in my mind, it was safer to find out as much as I could so I knew how to approach you about it without you hating me.”

“We could never hate you pup.” Namjoon just about wants to pull both you and Yoongi into his lap. Curse Kim Namjoon for not being born with 8 pairs of arms like an octopus- to better hold his loves with. He’d scoot closer to you but the 5 of you are practically on top of each other right now. 70% of the nest is completely uninhabited. Though Jungkook seems to be doing a good job of making it 69% with the way he’s sucking on Jin’s neck to leave a mark in an identical place to where he left one on you.

“So this is how it happens right?” Jungkook is giddy, giggling happy and squirming against the nest when he finally lets jin be, the other omega doesn't react except for a fond roll of his eyes. “We’re gonna kiss and do more stuff now that we’ve talked about it right?”

Jungkook starts so shift again, trying to get to you and Yoongi- probably to leave more hickeys- if he tilts his mouth right he can probably give you one in the shape of a heart and he thinks you’d love that-

“Wait-“ Namjoon has the unique ability to turn all of you, pack alpha or not- he’s commanding. “I have one more thing to say, it’s been on my mind for weeks, I’ve- I’ve wanted to say this to you for a long time.

"This feels out of order- like we never should have gotten here- before all the other things. I don’t want to start this without- starting that.”

You pout, and Yoongi can tell somethings not connecting in your little brain, he holds you tighter like he can keep it from hurting that way. “What do you mean?”

Namjoon’s never been shy, not since Jin trained it out of him. And all of that work- shaping him into a true pack alpha helps now as he straightens, trying to make his shoulders feel broad enough to carry the weight of this responsibility.

Namjoon knows how to have the exact balance of soft and firm, powerful and protective, without being pushy. He takes your hands in both of his. Your hands are tiny comparatively, calloused from all the disinfectant. Yours are delicate and perfect- the nails bitten down a little bit but Namjoon thinks they’re beautiful.

Namjoon wets his lips with the tip of his tongue. “I want you to be a part of our pack, officially. Please-” His eyes flicker up to Yoongi, for just a second then back down to yours. Settling back into a slightly more formal sitting position.

Usually- propositions of courting are done on one knee, not dissimilar to marriage proposals but this- this is the right time for this. Jin would snap at him if he tried to get out of the nest to do it now.

“Please allow me the honor of courting you.”

~-~

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wri0thesley · 3 years

Note

Okay but hear me out, gojo teaching his girl how to properly touch herself bc she can't make herself cum and has been edging herself unintentionally and gojo helps out with his long fingers 🥺

instruction - gojo x fem!reader (2k)

you might be having trouble, but gojo doesn’t mind playing sensei to you.

warnings: nsfw/minors dni! oral sex, assisted masturbation, fingering. afab reader with fem pronouns

[reblogs/comments appreciated! // my jjk masterlist]

The first time that Gojo gives you an orgasm, it’s using his tongue. His head is buried between your thighs, soft noises of praise coming out of his mouth interspersed with the flutter of his kisses on your inner thighs and the downright filthy sound of his mouth dragging through your slick. His tongue toys with your clit, swirling it and sucking it, circling it before he returns back to flicking the tip over it with mountingly quicker and harder motions. Your hands are knit in his hair, and as you feel the ball of pressure inside of you finally split into a thousand tiny pieces, you tug on the silver-pale strands in your grip and wail into the ceiling. He guides you through the aftershocks with slower, deeper laps of his tongue across your cunt before he lazily pulls himself up onto his elbows, looking at you with those big blue eyes, galaxies swirling with them.

“You were so noisy, doll,” he murmurs. “I know I’m good with my tongue, but hell - if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that seems like the first time you’ve ever got to cum--”

You feel yourself squirm, embarrassment flooding your thoughts. It’s not like you haven’t tried! But something in you always seems to stop you coming, and you’ve spent too many nights frustratedly falling asleep with your thighs a mess after being unable to bring yourself any kind of relief.

You can’t really hide anything from Satoru Gojo, though.

The look on your face tells him all that he needs to know - that flustered, half-guilty expression, your bitten lips darkened from the dig of your teeth. His own expression softens indescribably, those long fingers sliding up your damp thighs as he coos, all pity; “Oh, baby girl . . . We can’t have that, can we?”

He coaxes you, words coated in sugar, eyes gentle, to show him how you’ve been touching yourself. Before you know what’s happening, he’s taking your hand and pulling it down to rest over where you’re still slick with your own arousal and Gojo’s saliva. You’re still adorably sensitive, flinching at the pads of your fingers over your tender clit, so Gojo gently tugs on your wrist.

“Try circling it,” he murmurs. “You’ll hurt yourself if you go all in with the stimulation--”. You do your best to follow his orders for a few minutes, until the sensitivity wears off a bit. And then, he’s kneeling between your thighs and pushing your knees up a little so he has a better view of how exactly you’re rubbing at your petal-soft folds, how you’ve been treating yourself up until now. “Show me exactly how you’ve done it before,” he breathes, the crystalline sapphires of his eyes set on the space between your legs like he’s a patron at an art gallery. “Lemme see why you haven’t gotten to come, baby.”

You do your best. It’s the same as it always is, though - you rub at your clit with inexperienced, clumsy fingers. Heat seems to build up inside you, but you never manage to get it to go further than that build up. Even when you use your other hand to thrust two of your fingers inside, it feels like you’re reaching for something that isn’t quite there. It’s so annoying. You’ve read guides on how to do this, watched porn videos in the hope it’ll help you with your block - but nothing seems to work. And now, you’re being watched by your boyfriend, and you can’t help but be hot and embarrassed . . . and kind of turned on. The way that he’s looking at you. The concern knitting his usually smooth brow.

Gojo watches you, pensive, as you feel tears of frustration bubble up in the corners of your eyes. You move your hands away from your cunt, curling them into fists and giving the bed beneath you an exasperated thump.

(Gojo’s eyebrows raise as he sees you removing the stimulation entirely. You poor little thing. No wonder you haven’t managed it.)

“I-I can’t get it to go further,” you say, agitated. “I-it gets to a point, and then it just seems to stop! It builds up and it builds up but it just stays there!”

Gojo shifts closer to you. His hands rest on your thighs. “You know what I think?” He asks you, his voice very low. His cock has been hard in his pants since the moment he got you on his bed, never mind the orgasm he gave you with his tongue - but it’s a damn right tragedy you’ve never been able to make yourself come, and (much as he doesn’t want to admit it) being Gojo’s girlfriend can be a lonely life. He’s away on missions so often, and he loves to tease, and he knows that you’ll have his cock on the mind forever once you’ve had it for the first time. So it’s better for both of you if you learn exactly what you’re doing. “I think y’just haven’t had the right teacher yet. And . . . you’re in luck,” he flashes you one of those patented Satoru Gojo grins, half-unhinged and half-handsome. “Because I’m right here and willin’ to take some time out of my busy schedule to teach you all about the human body--!”

“Don’t put it like that,” you say, weakly, as he reaches between your thighs and pulls the lips of your cunt apart. He looks back at your sex; the swollen clit, the hole begging to be filled, the absolute mess you’ve both made with tongues and fingers and your earlier orgasm.

“You always stop before it goes further, right? Because you get bored and frustrated?” He clicks his tongue, shaking your head in mock scolding, as you squirm. “Baby girl, you gotta have temerity. You’ve been edging yourself ever since you figured out how to jack off.” His thumb swipes down through the slit as he lets go of his thumb’s hold. “Play with your clit for me. C’mon.”

The way he meets your eyes tells you that this is an order, and Gojo when he slips into the mode of a commander is not a man to be messed with. You hesitantly slide your fingers back between your legs to gently circle your swollen clit, your touch incredibly gentle. Gojo’s pretty mouth tilts into a smile. “Use your other hand to play with your chest,” he says. “I’d ask you to use it for something else, but . . .” The smile widens, showing a hint of white teeth. “I think I’m much better placed to do that.”

You are about to ask him what he means when his hand brushes over yours and then a fingertip gently pushes into the pulsing ring of your entrance. His fingers are slender - it does not hurt for him to push them in, but you are still robbed of your breath by the sensation of it plunging slowly into your silky depths. He gives one or two cursory pumps, before withdrawing his finger entirely so he can add a second beside it.

This one is more of a stretch, but it is a stretch in the best possible way. You use the hand not playing with your clit to squeeze the weight of your breast, your breath hitching. Thumb and forefinger pinch your nipple, teasing it to a stiff peak, as Gojo finds a slow rhythm to pump his fingers in and out of you.

“That’s deeper, right?” He rasps. “Feels better? Like places you’ve never been able to reach before?” He crooks his fingers just so and magic seems to spark, a spot on your inner walls your own shorter fingers have never managed to gain ground on. Your thighs tremble and you gasp out his name. “I thought so.” He swallows. You look up at him through the fan of your eyelashes and you see the lust in his eyes is palpable. He catches your gaze and holds it, unafraid.

“I want you to be rougher with yourself,” he growls, low. “Press a little harder--”

The hand not currently fucking two digits into you takes hold of your wrist, pushing you to put more pressure on your clit. Fuck. The sensation of his hand guiding your wrist’s movements, in tandem with the fact that his fingers have not yet stopped hitting that special spot with every single thrust . . . You can feel the ball tightening, pulling in on itself, like a hundred knots in the same piece of thread.

“If you didn’t have me,” Gojo rasps, and the sound of his voice gritty and dark sends a jolt of pleasure throughout you, “You’d be stopping now. You’d think you weren’t gonna get anywhere. But . . . you will, doll-- you’ve just gotta push past it--” He takes his hand away from your wrist, but you continue the pace and the pressure that he chose for you.

You whimper out his name, the hand playing with your chest squeezing hard (if you have bruised fingerprints on the soft curve of your breast tomorrow, Gojo will laugh gently at them and press on them a little meanly before he soothes you all over with kisses).

“You gonna promise me you’ll do that when you’re alone, yeah?” Gojo asks. He’s sounding a little breathless. Your eyes manage to focus long enough to see that he’s rubbing himself through his underwear, an impressive bulge pressing against the expensive fabric. He sees you looking and gives another feral grin that seems to echo through you. “D-don’t worry, we’ll take care’a that after your lesson--”

“I promise,” you breathe, as he curls his fingers just right against that spot and your own fingers reach fever pitch. You don’t know if you’re promising to do it the way that he taught you, or if you’re promising that you’ll take care of his cock, or if you’re promising something else to him entirely - your life, your love, your very being - but you do know that the knotted threads inside of you snap all at once as Gojo’s fingertips reach so deep, so good, so perfectly inside of you.

Your channel clenches and constricts, spasming around the digits buried in it to the knuckles. Heat washes over you with a feeling of peace, different to when he’d used his tongue on you and yet similar. Gojo is practically purring as he watches you and feels you, a gush of slick coating his fingers even as he guides you over the crest of your orgasm.

“Good girl,” Gojo’s murmuring, as your breathing (when did you start panting?) evens out. “Oh, so good for me, doll . . .” His fingers come out of you with a wet pop and he brings them to his mouth, tongue flickering out teasingly to taste you. “So sweet for me, too . . .” He sighs, his eyes closing for a moment as he enjoys the lingering flavour. When those eyes open again, they’re lit with hunger.

“Well,” he says. “whaddya say? Think you can come like that next time you touch yourself?” He raises his eyebrows, a playful grin on his face. “Think y’can come at all?”

You nod fervently, and win a chuckle from Gojo. He shifts on the bed, pushing the underwear he’s still wearing down to his thighs to reveal the thick jut of his cock. You’re breathless at the sight of it, already needy despite the fact your second orgasm of the night was scant minutes ago.

“I want a video of it,” he tells you. “Next time you touch yourself. I want a video of you and I want you t’say my name as you do it. But for now . . .” He gently taps the wet (so, so, wet - ruddy and flushed and dripping with his pre-come) head of his cock against your thigh. “I think we’ve got some other business to attend to, yeah?”

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #writing #jjk posting #afab reader #fem pronouns #not sfw #Anonymous

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moemammon · 3 years

Note

Can we get some hurt/comfort type stuff where the bros catch MC crying?

It's cool if not, drink water and remember that you're a really cool person ♡

"I Saw You Crying.. Are You Okay?" (Feat. The Demon Bros and GN!MC)

(Hurt comfort, angst, and feels of all varieties)

Enjoy❤️

Lucifer

When Lucifer caught you crying the moment you set your school bag down, he knew something was wrong. He likes to be aware of every situation if he's able, so seeing you like this and not knowing what's the matter is... troubling, to say the least.

He watches your demeanor as you slink off to your room, hoping no one stops you on your way there. He's the type to gather information before engaging, but it's not like he can figure anything out like this, so he goes after you.

He finds you curled up into a pitiful ball, sobbing into a pillow. It doesn't take long for his hand to find a place atop your head, gently petting your hair back. Lucifer doesn't speak, instead allowing you to initiate it first.

And whether or not you DO tell him what's wrong, he listens carefully and provides you comfort all the same. He knows that words can't always fix everything, but having someone to confide in can be a comfort.

"I'll stay here for as long as you need me. Ah, my work? Don't worry about that either. I doubt I could get anything done while worrying over you, MC."

Mammon

When Mammon spotted the tears streaking your cheeks, he immediately went into defensive mode. Can you blame him though? He's supposed to be your guardian! He's ready to fuckin FIGHT

And as such, he immediately hurried after you despite you trying to escape to the bathroom. He'll grab your arm, pull you close, and hurry you off to his room before his brothers can steal you

Promptly plops you down on the sofa and drapes his coat over you. He doesn't know what happened, but he wants names. And if that's not the case, he'll quickly calm down to listen to you.

Big bro has had his fair share of letting his baby brothers vent, so he's pretty good at this sort of thing. Actually, he tries his best to help out if he can. He might not be the best at it, but he means well. And he'll try especially hard if it means you'll smile again.

"Hey... look at me, MC. Crying outta nowhere like that... When something's botherin' ya, come to me. If it's enough to make ya cry, I wanna be involved."

Levi

Levi had been through enough to know the difference between eyes that were red form staying up late, and eyes that were red from crying. Sometimes he’d experience both, depending on what he might've been binging.

But in your case, your red eyes were caused by the latter, along with the sniffling you thought you could hide from him when you came into his room and asked if you could watch tv with him. Of course he agreed, and he gathered up his courage so that the moment you came close enough, he could pull you into his arms.

He's no good at stuff like this. He never thought of himself as the type that anyone would come to for comfort, and yet here you were, choosing his room as your sanctuary. There's no way he could deny you after you came so far!

Levi's definitely a good listener since he's not sure how to handle giving advice, and does his best to dish out distractions. Wanna play a game? He recently got a snack crate shipped in, full off all sorts of sweets! Wanna try some? And he just ordered a super cute sheep plush if you feel like hugging it. Or... you could hug him too, if you want.

"I know that.. things can be pretty overwhelming sometimes. And it probably doesn't help that you're away from your world. But if it's any comfort, y-you can always come here. You're my Henry-... no, you're my friend. So I want to make sure you're okay."

Satan

Satan caught sight of you scrubbing your eyes when you thought no one was watching, and would've assumed you got dust in your eye if he didn't notice how red your face was.

And the way you suddenly closed the book in your hands, put it in a random spot, and rushed off. You knew how Lucifer could be when it came to the organization of the library, so there's no way you'd risk a lecture over a simple mistake.

He hung back for a bit instead of pursuing you, because he knew how beneficial a little alone time could be when one was upset. But that doesn't mean he won't text you to see if you're alright.

When you reply, and grant him permission to see you after he asks for it, Satan arrives with extra blankets, herbal tea, and obviously, a few books. He'll ask if you want to talk about it, but if not, that's fine too.

"They say lavender chamomile tea works wonders for stress relief, and I can attest to that. I... don't know what's on your mind, and I know it can be difficult to put your feelings into words at times, but I'm here, even if you need to yell."

Asmo

When Asmo heard your sobs echoing from the bathroom, he either assumes that you A), poked yourself in the eye during your skincare routine he made you begin, or B), something was wrong.

And from the harsh sound of your cries, he figured it was the latter. There's no way he would let you endure any hardships alone! Asmo to the rescue!

He's quick to politely knock on the door, but doesn't wait for you to allow him access when he's already got it open and closes it behind himself. He gets one good look at you, and he's already cooing.

The boy cups your face and peppers it with little kisses, wiping your tears, smoothing your hair back, and ushering you over to sit in the side of the tub, so he can hug you tight.

"Darling, are you okay?? Look at the state of you... Shall I pamper your worries away with a nice bath? And when that's over, I plan to spoil you until you can't think of anything other than my beautiful face! I'll do anything to make you smile again."

Beel

Beel intended to go to your room to share a new flavor of potato chips with you, but instead was met with the sound of your shaking sobs from behind your closed door. That's all it takes for him to forget about the bags of chips in his arms.

They're discarded to the ground and he hesitates near your door for a moment, worry welling up within him. But Beel won't let you cry for long, because he's already entered your room and is sheepishly approaching your bed.

Without a word, the big ol bear gathers you into his arms for a tight hug, leaning into your shoulder and exhaling. You both stay in that position for a long, long while until your crying has calmed.

He pulls back to wipe your tears and snot, and gives you a worried look. What could've had you crying like this? Were you sad about something? You didn't seem physically hurt... Was someone mean to you? Was it Mammon-

"MC... please don't cry. I'll stay with you as long as you need me to, and I won't let go of you. If you need to hit something, you can hit me. Should I stay here for the night? ....Belphie won't mind. I don't want you to be alone."

Belphie

Belphie didn't know why you weren't answering his texts, but while he normally wouldn't mind, he was desperate to have your attention. Or rather, he really wanted to hug you.

And it seemed you would need just that when he entered your room to find you all curled up under your blankets, hiccuping away the aftermath of a hard crying session. What could've had you in such a state was beyond him, but it bothered him to no end.

So Belphie did what he does best and invaded your space, curling up next to you to lay down and pull you into his arms. He doesn't say anything, only your soft sobs breaking the silence between you.

His hand gently rubs your back when he feels you shake, and he squeezes you a little tighter when you sniffle. Eventually, he looks down at you and moves the blankets from your face, his expression soft.

"...Feeling a little better now? I can't stand seeing you so upset. If someone hurt you, I'll take care of it. If not, I'll let you cry in my arms for as long as you need. And maybe you'll feel better after a nap, hm? Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

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kingdaddydaichi · 3 years

Note

can i request consensual hate sex between bakugou and f!reader

Oooooh yassssss! This idea got better and better the more I thought about it, Nonny. Love it! I hope you enjoy this naughty little slice of grudge fuck pie. 💖

Riding The Fine Line 💥 Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader 💥 NSFW

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT or I'll have my Big Scary BoomBoom Man blow your little ass up!

Word Count: 2k

"Oi! Who picked this shitty restaurant anyway?", Bakugou sneered as he walked towards the table.

You rolled your eyes and mumbled, "Oh look, Gorilla Man is here".

"Watch it, shitty girl. M'not in the mood for your shit tonight".

You'd made plans earlier in the week to meet Kiri and Mina for dinner. You knew Bakugou had been invited too, but after having suffered through it so many times over the past year or so of having some friends in common, you somehow managed to tolerate his presence. It helped that the drink you'd been sipping on made him somewhat less intolerable than usual.

It was like nails down a chalkboard every time Bakugou reared his big dumb head. His only redeeming quality was that he was quite easy on the eyes. Shame that such a hot guy is also such a huge asshole.

He's always given everyone a hard time, but unlike most people, you just wave a dismissive hand at him. And it makes him crazy. He doesn’t understand why he doesn’t get under your skin like he so easily does others. Oh, he annoys the piss out of you to be sure, but he doesn't hurt your feelings per se.

"Y'know, for such a massive ego yours sure is delicate, you meat head".

"Oh yeah? Well, for such a massive ass yours s-"

"God, Bakugou, do you ever just shut up?", you snipped.

Kiri and Mina both jumped in, laughing nervously and smoothing things over to lower the tension. He growled at you. You flipped him a subtle bird before looking away and trying to ignore him.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

Kiri's birthday was approaching and several of his friends decided to throw him a surprise birthday party. You, Denki, Mina, and ugh, as luck would have it, Bakugou, were are all put in charge of decorating his house while some other friends took him out for dinner. Midway through, Mina whined while sorting through various sacks, "Oh no! We forgot the disposable rainbow shot glasses!" Mina had a way of putting a cute touch on everything she had her hands in. Denki offered to go with Mina to procure the missing miniature party cups, leaving you and Bakugou alone to hang streamers in Kiri's living room. Probably not the wisest of decisions, but consider the source. 👀

It didn't take long after they were gone for Bakugou to start in on you with his bullshit. Only this time no one was around to referee. You groaned. This was going to be a free for all. You'd already both cut eyes at each other a couple of times.

"You're not doing it right, dumbass!"

"That's a matter of opinion and you can shove yours up your ass, dumbass".

He flipped you off saying, "You can shove this up your ass!", then turned back to his task.

You were so done. Without thinking, you reared back and hurled the roll of streamers as hard as you could, nailing him right in the back of the head. Damn, it felt good.

He whipped around, a vein popping out of his forehead, clenching his teeth. You were quite proud of your aim until he made little explosions in his free hand and said, "You're really pushing your luck with me, woman! If we weren't in Kiri's house right now I'd blast you right through that fucking wall!"

"Pfft, whatever! You wouldn't do shit. You're all bark and no bite, you fucking douche canoe!"

"You ever stop to think that maybe if you weren't such a bitch guys might actually want to talk to you?"

That did it. He'd finally found one of your hot buttons and you couldn't take his shit anymore. You marched right up to him and got right up in his face, height difference be damned.

"You know what, fuck you, Bakugou! I'm not normally like this! You're the only person who…drives me to this madness!", you spat with tears in your eyes.

A second later, his hands were on either side of your face, crashing his lips down onto yours. You were so shocked you froze before pulling away from him, staring at him in astonishment. He just stood there, huffing, glaring back at you, waiting.

You stepped forward and pushed him, his back hitting the wall, hard. But before he could protest, your lips were on his again. He grabbed you by your arms and spun you around, pinning you against the wall. You slipped your tongue past your open mouth, his meeting yours halfway as he pushed his knee between your legs. He pressed his thigh against your sex, shoving his growing cock against your thigh in the process.

Taking the bottom of his shirt into two fistfuls, you eagerly pushed it up to his chest, exposing his washboard abs and god-like pecs. He quickly pulled it over his head and threw it to the floor while your shaky hands got busy with his belt and zipper, urgently, like you couldn't get to him soon enough. But his will took over when he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head so he could peel your shirt off. He dipped down to take a mouthful of your tit, cupping what he couldn't fit in his rough hand, swirling his tongue around your nipple, sucking, then releasing you from the inside of his mouth to flick the tip of his tongue over your pink nub. You grabbed two handfuls of his ash blond locks and arched your back off the wall as he gave your other breast the same treatment.

You impatiently tugged on his hair, hungry for the taste of his sweet lips again. Your tongues once again fought for dominance and you gasped when he picked you up in one swift movement. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to Kiri's bedroom, swinging the door shut behind him before slamming your back against it.

"Put me down", you said forcefully.

He stopped sucking on your neck long enough to rasp, "And why the fuck should I?"

"Because I want to get into your fucking pants, asshole".

For once you two agreed on something and with your feet back on the floor, you got back to work on his pants before reaching in and wrapping your hand around his hot dick. Shit, you could barely get your fingers all the way around it, it was so thick. You stroked him a couple of times before pulling him out, exposing his manhood in all of its mouth-watering glory.

He ran his hand down his sculpted stomach, spreading his fingers to either side of his girth. "Like what you see?" You realized you were staring at his dick and the pre that dripped from it.

"Wouldn't you like to know?", you sassed.

He growled and spun you around, pushing your front against the wall and swiftly closing in behind you. Wisps of your (color) hair fluttered around his hot breath as he breathed down your neck. "You keep on tryin' to hide it, but you want me just as much as I want you, princess, and I'm gonna make an honest girl outta ya".

His battle-hardened hands found their way down your back, around your waist and all the way to your belly before he slid them down, his fingers reaching below your waistband. You willed him to push his hands further down, pressing your backside against his erection. He used one deft hand to unbutton your pants and work your zipper down, granting himself better access. When he mercifully slipped his middle finger between your folds, you couldn't choke back the moan that emerged from the back of your throat.

"Damn", he growled behind your ear, "for someone who can't stand me, your pussy sure is wet for me".

"Shut up", you gritted through your teeth.

The feeling of the rough pad of his finger teasing your swollen clit nearly sent you over the edge. But it was short-lived and you whined when he pulled his hand away to shove your pants down around your ankles, accompanied by your damp panties. Your hands slid down the wall as he yanked your ass back towards him. You hung your head and watched the head of his cock as Bakugou fucked your thighs, back and forth over your slit, coating his fat cock with your slick, readying himself.

When he began pushing into you, your legs shook from the sheer pressure as he slowly filled you up. When he bottomed out, he held himself still, at least considerate enough to give you time to adjust to his size. He waited until you started grinding against him before grabbing your hips, and slowly withdrawing.

"Now let's see if I can fuck all that hate for me out of you". Before you could retort, he slammed his cock back into you, your pitiful cry mixed with his loud groan echoing off the walls of Kiri's bedroom. He set his pace, steady and hard, the cold buckle of his open belt pressing into your skin with every crash of his hips.

"Yeah, who knows? Maybe if you'd get your dick wet every once in a while you wouldn't act like one", you quipped, voice faltering as he pounded into you.

He slowed his pace to bend over you, pushing your hair out of the way before biting down on the nape of your neck.

"Oww!! What the fuck?!"

He stood up straight again, laughing and said, "All bark and no bite, hah? You just hadn't pushed me far enough yet!" The sweet and salty mixture of his sweat and your need could be heard with every loud slap of his skin against yours.

"Fuck! Bakugou-", you whined in spite of yourself.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair and gave it a firm tug. "When're ya gonna stop callin' me by m'last name and call me Katsuki instead?"

"When you stop acting like a raging asshole towards me", you managed as he fucked the breath out of you.

"Brave words for someone in such a compromising position. Now - say - my - fucking - name!". Each word came with its very own plunge of his cock into your mess of a cunt.

Your legs started to give out. "Katsuki!" You hadn't meant to obey him, but he'd kept his word and made you honest.

"That's better". You could hear the smirk in his voice after hearing his first name fall from your quivering lips.

You turned to face him when he pulled out, kissing him hard, his fingers going into your hair. You inched backwards onto the bed, Katsuki crawling in towards you with a primal look in his crimson eyes before nestling his thighs between yours and sheathing himself deep inside you again. Your head rolled back as you arched your back off the bed. Gods, the feeling of him filling you up was quickly becoming your new favorite sensation.

He nuzzled his face against your neck as he rutted into you, pulling your thigh up to his hip bone, raking his teeth against your skin. His breathing had become more labored and he started thrusting faster, your pleasure mounting with the increased friction of his pubic bone against your clit until rays of bliss shot out from every pore of your skin at the speed of light.

"K-ka-tsuki, I'm c-cumming hahh oh goddd!" The pulsating grip that you had on him finally sent him to his end as well, growling your name and cursing between clenched teeth, burying himself deep inside you as he unloaded rope after thick rope of his white hot cum into your snug, soft warmth.

"Seems Shitty Hair’s gonna get more than one surprise tonight", Katsuki said, catching his breath.

You laughed so hard that Katsuki hissed at the feeling of your walls squeezing his sensitive cock so soon after his orgasm.

"You still hate me?", he asked, brushing his lips against yours, supporting his weight with his elbows.

"Hmm...that depends", you said thoughtfully, tracing the cut of his back muscles with your fingertips.

"On what?"

"On whether or not you'd still fuck me if I don't hate you".

He smirked. "I'd still hit it even if you love me", he whispered, showing his softer side as he kissed you, smiling.

#grudge f*ck #katsuki bakugou #i want him to hate me this much #ugh #that man #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #katsuki #bakugou #bakugo #katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x y/n #king explosion murder #lord explosion murder #dynamight

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dracowars · 3 years

Note

Hi could you write something where the reader is on the place of Hermione on the manor during DH1. And Narcissa sees her memories and finds out she's with Draco and how happy he looks with her. Happy ending please🥺 also Hufflepuff reader

daffodil | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x hufflepuff!reader

word count: 2,3k

summary: where narcissa is y/n's last hope

a/n: rip helen mccrory <3

warnings: angst, torture, mentions of blood

universe: harry potter

Trying to suppress your tears, you have to helplessly watch as your close friends Harry, Ron and Hermione are pushed away from the large, dark room to the basement, leaving you alone. Not actually alone, but in the sense of everyone who remains in this room now, will not help you out of here. It all began so well and was going smoothly.

Your plan was almost perfect, it should not have failed. Nevertheless, you were caught by Death Eaters and taken to Malfoy Manor, the mansion of the Malfoy family, which ironically also includes your boyfriend. Draco, of course, did not know about your plan, otherwise he might have accidentally given something away. You wanted to tell him, but you could not bring yourself to do it. You did not want to disappoint your friends and risk your plan. Anyway, it seems like Draco does not know what his own family is up to either.

“So, you are the pathetic little Hufflepuff girl who sniffed around in my dungeon in Gringotts and stole, huh?”, Bellatrix directs her sharp words at you after she made sure that her sister safely locked your friends in the cellar. “Speak!”

“I do not know what you are talking about”, you lie to her, your whole body visibly shaking in fear. You have heard numerous stories about Bellatrix Lestrange, and one was worse than the other. She is merciless and will not stop until she gets what she wants and that is exactly why you are not quite sure yourself why you suddenly have the audacity to lie directly into her face in this moment when it is obvious that you definitely know what she is talking about.

“Do not lie to me, you cheeky brat! How did you get my sword!?”, she furiously screams at you all of a sudden, anger in her eyes, making you shrink back a little. With her crazy sparkling eyes, she takes another step towards you until you retreated so far back against the wall that you have no way out, no way to escape her.

Before you can answer, however, you already feel the tip of her wand against your throat and you have to swallow hard as she drills it deeper, an insane smile on her pale lips.

“Well, if you do not want to speak, I will gladly force you to speak”, she giggles wickedly and before you know it, she harshly grabs you by the arm and forces you onto the cold wooden floor. You can intercept your fall with your hands in the last moment. Scared, you turn around to face her, your gaze falling on Narcissa, who watches the scene unfold in front of her without a word, just like her husband.

Nobody in Draco’s family knows about your relationship and so far, it has always been better that way. Even so, you do not come around wondering what if they did know about it right now. What if his mother knew about your undying love for each other? What if you would tell her right here, right now that you were the one who was always on her son’s side when he felt bad, that you cheered him up in his darkest times and supported him when no one else did. You were with him after he was declared a Death Eater and you were there when he decided against murdering your headmaster. You were there for him all this time when his family was not.

You can’t continue your thoughts when Bellatrix suddenly kicks you in the abdomen and you softly groan in pain, curling up on the floor.

“I will not ask you a second time: Where did you get the Gryffindor sword from?”, Bellatrix interrogates you again and harshly turns you on your back with her foot, using all her strength to prevent you from moving. Slowly she makes it hard for you to breathe and you desperately try to free yourself from her grip – without any success.

Since you still have not answered her question, she ends up pointing her wand at you threateningly again and before you even have the chance to admit anything, she puts an unforgivable curse on you.

“Crucio!”

Your body writhes in pain on the floor, screams escaping your mouth louder and stronger every second. You try to defy the curse, but you are too weak and can’t defend yourself, having to suffer the worst pain you have ever felt in your entire life.

And despite all of this, your thoughts go back to Draco. His smiling face appears in your mind and his gentle laughter echoes in your ears.

“D-Draco”, you gasp in pain and suddenly all of the pain disappears at once. Bellatrix has now lowered her wand and looks at you in confusion. But not only does she, but Draco’s parents as well.

“I did not ask about Draco!”, Bellatrix freaks out again in a matter of seconds and finally crawls over your weakened body, your faces so close to each other that you can feel her breath on your skin. “You have played enough games.”

At her words, you feel this unendurable pain again, but this time it feels different. It does not come from within you, you can still feel your body as a whole, and it feels a lot more realistic until you suddenly feel her rip open your arm with a sharp dagger inch by inch. Screeching in pain, you try to throw her off you, but she presses you onto the hard ground with all of her might and strength.

Exhausted, your head falls to one side, your body twitching at every painful touch on your arm. Tears flow down your already damp cheeks and you look at Draco’s mother through your blurry vision. She has averted her gaze from the terrible scenario.

“D-Draco.. I-“, you stutter out, the feeling of weightlessness from being on the verge of passing out obfuscating your words and thoughts. Still, you know that there is only one last chance that may get you out of here alive, even though you may regret it in the end.

“I love him”, you cry out in a heartbreaking voice which Bellatrix does not seem to mind at all. Narcissa, however, lifts her head in an instant and looks directly at you, her eyes full of sadness as far as you can tell by your restricted vision. Your eyelids are getting heavier by the second and just when you are about to pass out completely, you notice how Narcissa finally comes closer and thus puts an abrupt end to your unbearable pain.

“Legilmens”, her soft broken voice whispers and the world around you begins to spin, to transform.

And suddenly you are peacefully lying in a bed that is all too familiar to you, your gaze focused on the door that is opening at this very moment, revealing none other than Draco himself. You feel strange, weird, as if you have experienced all of this before. As soon as Draco enters the room with his head hanging low, you uncontrollably run into his arms. You speak to him with calming words until everything starts blurring in front of your eyes and you find yourself in a different place.

You are in a flooded bathroom, a slim and fragile figure trembling from crying from the bitter sobs at the sink in front of you.

“Draco”, you hear your own voice softly speak up and he jolts, turning around to you, his eyes red and swollen, his face completely dejected. Not another second goes by and you lie in his arms again, comforting him.

“I can’t do this anymore, Y/N. It hurts so much”, Draco’s echoing sobs ring in your ear as he rolls up the sleeve of his white shirt, revealing the Dark Mark. “Please help me.”

However, you are not able to help him because you are forcibly torn away from the moment again and land in a large, wide meadow of flowers. Warmth created by the burning sunlight flows through you and the exclamation of your name from the distance brings a happy smile to your face immediately. Not far from you Draco runs up the hill towards you, a smile as bright and wide as yours decorating his beautiful facial features. Quickly, you get up from the soft picnic blanket that you have placed in the meadow and greet him with a firm hug.

The next moment, you lie on the blanket, hugging and looking up at the clear starry sky after the sun has already set hours ago. Draco repeatedly points to different shining stars which form a constellation, telling you everything he learned in astronomy, while you can’t take your eyes off him.

When he finally notices your gaze, he turns his head towards you so that the tips of your nose are almost touching. Neither of you say a word and you just stare into each other’s eyes lovingly.

“I love you”, your voice carefully confesses and your heart hammers against your chest.

“I love you too”, Draco replies, connecting your lips in a gentle kiss.

The safe and happy feeling suddenly gets teared away from you and you find yourself back in the dark room of the Malfoy Manor. Shocked and not so sure about what has just happened, you straighten up. Only now do you realize that Bellatrix had let go of you in the meantime and is now looking down at you with widened eyes, standing closely behind her sister.

It hits you like a train when you realize that Narcissa has just used Legilimency on you, which caused you to be subjected to a rapid succession of passing memory scenes and in some cases even made you briefly lose consciousness. Thus, not only your expressed thoughts or perceptible feelings were revealed to her, but also your hidden feelings and experiences as well as your most secret desires.

An extremely uncomfortable silence arises in the room while all eyes are on you and only you. Lucius and Bellatrix seem rather angry at something, with Narcissa looking at you with pity and sadness.

“Take my hand”, Narcissa breaks the silence first, but because of her words you only look at her in confusion when she extends her hand to you. Looking back and forth between her outstretched hand and her face, for some inexplicable reason, you realize that she actually wants to help you.

As soon as your hands touch, everything around you blurs again and the next thing you know everything goes black. You feel pressure on your body from all directions and you find it difficult to breathe until everything around you takes on its usual color again, allowing you to breathe in deeply.

You feel the ground beneath your feet and notice that you are standing upright. And you notice that your and Narcissa’s hand are still connected. Startled, you pull your hand out of her grasp and look around.

“Where did you take me?!”, you angrily ask her, the place where you are now not seeming familiar to you and the fact that she just kidnapped you after invading your privacy makes you feel even more confused.

“To safety”, Narcissa replies shortly and it seems she wants to add something when her gaze suddenly slides past you, to something hat has now apparently appeared behind you.

“Mum?”

“Draco?”, you breathe out in relief when you hear his voice behind you and immediately turn around to him. Tears well up in your eyes and you run into Draco’s arms at lightning speed, but Draco seems to be quite perplexed. After all, he does not know what happened.

“W-What?”, he tries to form meaningful words while still not returning your hug, standing there rigid and tense.

“She knows about us”, you whisper in his ear while sobbing and his posture relaxes from one second to the other and he wraps his arms tightly around your trembling body without hesitation, his face disappearing in the crook of your neck.

“What happened?”, Draco asks you worried as he gently loosens the hug and takes your face between in his hands, not understanding why you are crying. With a shake of your head, you indicate that you do not want to talk about it and he understands, giving you the space you need, before his gaze falls back on his mother, who is watching you two silently.

“I am sorry”, Narcissa finally clears her throat, causing you to look at her as well. Tears have now also formed in her eyes, but her lips are adorned by a gentle smile as she looks at you. “It should never have come to this.”

“Why did you do that? Why did you help me?”, you want to know and step closer to her, your hand intertwined with Draco’s.

“I was inside of your head and saw all of your memories”, she explains and while she nervously plays with the long black sleeves of her beautiful dress, she looks up from the ground again. “I have seen how happy you make my son. I could not let them harm you or it would break him. You- You are too important to Draco.”

You are speechless at her words and Draco seems pretty stunned by what his mother said as well. Before either of you can comment on it though, she speaks up again.

“I will make sure that your friends get free”, she adds, letting her inner conflict reflect in her soft voice. “Stay with Draco. You are safe here until I have clarified everything. I will come back.”

“Mum-“

“I promise you that everything will be fine”, she gently smile at him, giving both of you a loving hug, before she disapparates into thin air and probably reappears where she has just saved your life moments ago.

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warriorsfireandwater · 4 years

Text

Warriors Analysis 2: A Breakdown of the Crow/Night/Breeze Family Dynamic

I said I would do it, so here we are. The big doozy. For this one, I’m going to putting all of the sourced scenes in a linked google doc, because I just don’t want to make this post a million miles long. Instead, for this post, I will sum up all of the conclusions made after reviewing every scene involving the family from Po3 through OotS, with other relevant information from other books included.

Context of this one: I’ve watched (and participated in) a lot of debate over this family. Just about every single argument I’ve seen tends to:

1) rely on a person’s opinion of a character overall to how they feel about the family (”I found Nightcloud annoying” often goes along with “Nightcloud is equally bad of a parent” or “Breezepelt was a bad person so I don’t sympathize with him in the family situation”)

2) misremember canon

3) rely on a person’s headcanons of what actually happened to shape their judgement of the family (”Nightcloud spoiled Breezepelt and told him Crowfeather is bad” when there are zero canon scenes of this happening)

Some ground rules: I’m relying on breaking down the canon scenes in the books. I am NOT inserting my own thoughts or beliefs as to what happened behind the scenes. If there’s anything bordering on that (”this behavior implies X”), it’ll be clearly stated that it’s an interpretation. I ask that if you want to comment or debate this analysis that you do the same. People’s headcanons shaping how they remember the family is the thing that frustrated me enough to spend hours digging this up. As a personal request, please don’t use this post to say “Nightcloud still sucks and I hate her”/”Breezepelt still sucks and I hate him”/”neglect isn’t abuse” - the latter is definitively incorrect and is upsetting to hear as a survivor of abuse. “X character still is bad” just takes away from the point of this - which is not to say “Breezepelt is a good person”, but PURELY to breakdown the family dynamic. With that out of the way, let’s GO:

After looking at literally every scene involving Breezepelt, Crowfeather, and Nightcloud and analyzing the ones that involve or mention them as a family, here’s some key points. The scenes that back these points up are included and detailed in this doc.

Breezepaw is introduced to us as a bit aggressive and rude, and his mentor, Whitetail, wishes to Crowfeather that she would teach him manners (earning her no response from him)

We first properly see Nightcloud during the dog attack in The Sight, when Breezepaw returns from checking the barrier. Breezepaw reports that there is no damage, and Crowfeather immediately questions if he actually checked all the way around. Breezepaw tells him “Of course!”, and Nightcloud says that Crowfeather should trust his son more.

This suggests Nightcloud is ready to defend Breezepaw whenever. However, as ThunderClan is leaving, Breezepaw mutters that WindClan can manage on their own. Nightcloud immediately scolds him and compliments Lionpaw for saving Heatherpaw during the battle.

Later, at the daylight Gathering, Lionpaw and Breezepaw are buried underground. Crowfeather and Nightcloud help dig them out, and Breezepaw is not breathing when he comes out. Jaypaw has to pull dirt out of his throat to save his life.

Leafpool says to Crowfeather that she would “give [her] last drop of blood to save [his kit]”. Nightcloud sharply retorts that “our kit was lucky that Jaypaw was here”.

Nightcloud carries Breezepaw away from the scene “like a kit”. Crowfeather offers to help, but she carries him on her own. She does not push him away/force him away/shout at him, she literally just chooses to carry him. Nightcloud spends the rest of the daylight Gathering curled around Lionpaw and Breezepaw and keeping them resting.

We learn these things from the Sight: Breezepaw and Crowfeather seem to have a tense relationship, but that isn’t fully developed. Nightcloud is willing to defend him from Crowfeather’s doubts, but notably does not defend him when he acts like a punk in front of her. She is bothered by Leafpool’s comment about giving her life for Breezepaw (which I personally find pretty reasonable to be bothered by), but counters by giving her gratitude to Jaypaw. She wants to carry Breezepaw after he nearly dies, but isn’t pushing Crowfeather away or denying him anything like many people claim.

In Dark River, Crowfeather encourages Breezepaw’s bias against ThunderClan, telling him that they “celebrate mixed blood” in a tone that implies it as a negative thing. (It seems implied he does this to get to Leafpool, who is upset by his comment.)

Jaypaw is able to feel Nightcloud’s jealous emotions on a few occasions, but she actually never says anything to Leafpool or Crowfeather about it.

In Outcast, Crowfeather is called to go on the journey to the Tribe. Onestar tells him to take Breezepaw, who has gotten in trouble a few times. Breezepaw makes it very plain he doesn’t want to go and worries that his Clanmates are just trying to get rid of him. Crowfeather wants to go, but “sighs” over the idea of taking Breezepaw. To me, he comes off as disinterested and possibly disappointed that he has to bring him. Crowfeather snaps at Breezepaw for asking to say goodbye to his friends, saying “There isn’t time!” even though literally no one is rushing them to leave. Nightcloud comes to say goodbye, but Crowfeather is distant and doesn’t respond to her.

Throughout Outcast, each POV character has at least one (if not many) moments where they think about Crowfeather/Breezepaw and feel pity for Breezepaw, despite really hating him. Hollypaw especially thinks often about how she appreciates Brambleclaw for encouraging and supporting her, and the apprentices all seem to realize that Breezepaw is angry because his father “doesnt seem to like him”.

When questioning why they have to help the tribe, Crowfeather just tells Breezepaw “You’ll never understand loyalty.”

When they run into Purdy, Breezepaw is pretty rude to him. Crowfeather doesn’t interrupt a single time throughout multiple insults, then reacts by hitting him across the ear without saying anything, which is noted as “a hard blow”.

Breezepaw nearly dies falling off into a ravine after thinking he’s discovered a faster way. Crowfeather pulls him back and snaps at him, expressing no concern for his life. In Eclipse, Crowfeather pointedly does not compliment Breezepaw’s catch of the rabbit, which angers Breezepaw.

During the reveal of Leaf/Crow in the last book, Breezepelt and Nightcloud stand by Crow’s side and don’t publicly turn on him or say anything against him.

This journey gives us a lot of insight into Crow and Breeze’s dynamic. Breezepaw is pretty obviously a little punk throughout this book, but Crowfeather has no healthy way of communicating with him or discipling him. Instead, he snaps at him, hits him, or ignores him, all of which just feeds into Breezepaw’s anger. Nightcloud is not present for any of this and has no way of controlling their interactions here, which could have been a perfect opportunity for Crowfeather to build a relationship with his son if it were true that Night had prevented this.

Breezepelt shows up in Fading Echoes, training in the Dark forest. A few things are made explicit: he is being manipulated by the Dark Forest and Tigerstar’s words have an almost hypnotic effect on him. The cats present egg him on against Crowfeather, feeding into his belief that Crow does not value him. (Side note, I find it really interesting that in this book, Breezepelt has notable value in the warrior code [which encourages his hate towards Crow] and the DF cats encourage this, saying it is “strong” in his blood. Next time we see him, though, he wants to destroy it.)

Flametail randomly thinks about Breezepelt’s family while spending time with Tawnypelt, feeling glad he has nicer kin.

We get the infamous scene where Lion and Breeze fight. Breeze and Crow were both trespassing on ThunderClan territory and Lion caught the prey Breezepelt was about to catch. He intentionally eggs Breezepelt into a fight (rather than just attacking him himself). Leafpool interrupts, asking how Crow can watch this. Nightcloud then shows up and insists Crowfeather has only one son. Leafpool jumps in between them as Breezepelt is leaping for Lionblaze, and she gets clawed. Crowfeather hauls him off and throws him aside, then keeps talking to Leafpool, who tells him she loved him.

Nightcloud then comes over and pulls Crowfeather away from Leafpool. She sinks her claws into his pelt to do this. However, it’s worth noting that this scene contains MANY references to blood every time claws come out - she does not draw blood and he does not express any signal of pain. It’s likely she used her claws only as a means of holding onto him, not to cause him harm. Crowfeather turns on him, and Breezepelt wails before getting between them, telling Crowfeather to leave his mother alone.

Nightcloud doesn’t react rationally in this scene - but neither does any character. Lionblaze is an ass, Breezepelt is an ass, Crowfeather is an ass, and Leafpool is still walking around making declarations of her former love in front of Crowfeather’s wife.

Nightcloud is one of the cats to react rudely to Hollyleaf’s return, but she doesn’t directly attack/challenge her. (This is actually the last time we see Nightcloud.)

The final meaningful scene is in The Last Hope, when Breezepelt fights Lionblaze. Crowfeather intervenes and says he will not allow Breezepelt to hurt him. Breezepelt retorts he always knew Crowfeather hated him, which Crow denies.

“I never hated you!” Crowfeather growled. “That’s just what you were determined to believe. And Nightcloud encouraged you.”

“It’s not her fault!” Breezepelt spat.

“No,” Crowfeather hissed. “I should have done something much earlier...”

This is the first and only time this is blamed on Nightcloud. This is the only indication we have that this could be true.

Some other notable things:

Crowfeather took Nightcloud as a mate to prove his loyalty, not out of love. (This is said in After Sunset: We need to talk)

The Ultimate Guide also confirms the above, but is a questionable source given the many errors included in it. It states that Crowfeather resents Nightcloud (for not being Leafpool), and that Nightcloud coddled Breezepelt. However, the latter is never shown in the story (and the opposite is actually shown when she scolds him).

In Crowfeather’s Trial, Crowfeather is pushed to recognize his anger towards his son and apologize for his behavior towards him and Nightcloud. Even in an entire book from Crow’s perspective (which provides opportunity for memories, flashbacks, etc), there is no indication that Nightcloud actually pushed Breezepelt to hate Crowfeather. There’s a throwaway mention that Crowfeather was too strict or too rough with Breezepelt as a kit, but it’s never actually said that Nightcloud told him this/kept him away/etc. (IE: it’s impossible to say if Nightcloud screamed this at him or asked him once to be gentle. We just don’t know!)

With all this said, here’s my take on the dynamic:

Crowfeather was a neglectful father and an inconsiderate mate. The only scene we get where he seems to actually get along with Breezepaw is when he is encouraging him to dislike ThunderClan by feeding into hatred for “mixed blood” cats. In all other scenes, he: 1) ignores his bad behavior, 2) is unnecessarily harsh to him or dismissive of him, 3) questions and undermines him, 4) does not have healthy ways of addressing his poor behavior (IE, he ignores and turns away from him rather than discussing it when all the apprentices are in trouble and the other warriors are scolding them, he flat-out hits Breezepaw at one point after saying nothing to intervene in his rudeness), and 5) blames Nightcloud for their bad relationship. Crowfeather is provided plenty of opportunities to interact with Breezepaw while Nightcloud isn’t present (in fact, Nightcloud shows up very little - most scenes of the family have just Breeze and Crow, there are many books where Nightcloud isn’t even mentioned).

Nightcloud was literally just being a normal mom and was often pushed to feeling jealous around Leafpool, often because Leafpool doesn’t have any boundaries around hinting about loving Crowfeather for some reason. I was actually really shocked by how... absolutely fuckin brazen Leafpool is 24/7 about waltzing up to Crowfeather while his wife is standing right there and going “just so you know......... i miss you........... i’d give my life for you......” It’s just WEIRD. IMO, it’s pretty damn reasonable for that to make Nightcloud irritated! Most of the time, she never actually voices her jealousy, we just know about it because of Jaypaw’s ability. When she does, it’s sometimes done by complimenting someone else or giving credit to another cat, like when Jaypaw saves Breezepaw. There is zero text in the story supporting the idea that Nightcloud was overbearing or that she spoiled him: we have TWO SCENES where she has character moments around this. In the first, she is defending him from Crowfeather’s doubt, and in the second, she is scolding him for being ungrateful to ThunderClan for their help.

Breezepelt was a kid that grew up feeling unloved, unappreciated, and angry and resentful as a result. The Dark Forest, not Nightcloud, fed into this belief, but we also have a whole lot of scenes that show why that feeling of resentment towards Crowfeather is there to begin with.

The final hot take: If you believe Nightcloud ‘spoiled’ Breezepelt or that she was ‘overbearing and possessive’, you need to reread Po3 and OotS. It’s just not there.

(Bonus: I love Leafpool but god, girl, you need to read a room.)

#warrior cats #warrior cats analysis #crowfeather #breezepelt #nightcloud

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maybege · 3 years

Text

... Stays In Quantico - FBI Part 2

Summary: Back in Quantico, you are reminded just how difficult your situation is. (Part 2 of the FBI Series)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 3.1k | Rating: T

Warnings: descriptions of an anxiety attack

Here we are! I am so excited to finally start sharing this story with you. Having binged through all 15 seasons, I just want to say now that (1) this story will be canon-divergent and (2) it will be a slow burn. It is my first longer story about Hotch and I hope I will do his character justice. As always, you can find the posting schedule linked in my masterlist.

Have fun reading and let me know what you think.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

“I don’t know what to think.”

“This is not the kind of job where you don’t know what to think.”

“I know.”

“Hard to believe from someone who just told me she doesn’t know what to think.”

You shifted in your seat. The office you were in was colder than the bullpen of the BAU and you wished you had remembered to bring your cardigan with you. Now all you were wearing was your short-sleeved dress and heels.

To be fair, you had presumed this would just be a standard meeting with the in-house therapist. After the incident in Kansas City, it seemed like standard procedure and you were glad to have been offered this opportunity.

Now though, sitting in the way too soft armchair with the brunette older woman looking at you over her glasses, this felt more like an evaluation than anything else. And you absolutely hated it.

You looked at the still-life of a fruit bowl on the right wall, right next to a bookshelf full of framed certificates. A woman who was proud of her accomplishments.

The first and last time you had had an evaluation was when you had first started working at the FBI and back then you had been sure that you had failed it. You had been sure you had failed all of it.

Your grandmother always used to say that if you looked for flaws long enough you would find them.

Dr Johnson looked like she spent her life looking for flaws.

“Tell me again why you chose to work for the FBI – and the BAU specifically.”

You would not make it anyway. Fuck it.

“There is so much hurt in the world,” you started, watching her eyebrows rise over the frames of her glasses, “I would feel better knowing I am trying to do something against it. And as for the BAU,” you shrugged, “Chief Sector Strauss approached me about it and I thought I would be stupid not to take the opportunity.”

She hummed, looking down at her file. “You don’t have any official FBI training.”

“No.”

“Any formal police training?”

“No.”

“Gun training?”

You hid your smile at the thought of the recent debacle for the gun qualification.

“I took down an UnSub in Kansas City last week,” you reminded her, “That is why I am here.”

She did not react to it. “In fact,” she leafed through the papers in her hand, “You only recently finished college. How did that go for you?”

“Good,” you nodded, trying to keep your knee from bouncing, “It was good.”

“What did you major in?”

“English,” you replied and when you saw her raised eyebrow, tried to elaborate, “Um, English literature to be exact and I have a minor in law as well.”

“Why only a minor?”

“Pardon me?”

“Why did you only minor in law? Were you not good enough?”

To cover the unease from her question, you crossed your legs. “I had no interest in law,” you answered truthfully, “My passion was and is with literature.”

The full truth was, you simply did not like law students. That and the pressure they were under was, you were convinced, what brought many lawyers to an early grave. But she did not need to know that about you.

Ironic that you had ended up in the BAU after all this.

Totally not stressful.

She said your name, then, slowly, and leant forward. You tensed, knowing that look too well. Was this the moment she would tell you that you had failed the valuation? The moment Hotch would come into the office and hand you your resignation with that disappointed look in his eyes.

Maybe the way Kansas City had ended was just a way to disguise the true going-ons of your work here in Quantico?

“You have been here, what, seven months now, Agent?”

“Yes, eight months, coming February,” you replied, meeting her gaze and swallowing the dryness of your throat.

“Would you say you have adjusted to your life here in Virginia?”

You frowned, “What do you mean?”

Dr Johnson made a vague gesture as if encompassing everything and anything, “Do you have friends here? Family? How do you get on with your colleagues?”

Well, you certainly had not been expecting this kind of question.

“I live together with a friend,” you answered slowly, “My family lives in Idaho.”

“Idaho,” Johnson smiled, “A long way from home, no?”

“Yes.”

“Look, Agent, I am not going to lie,” she sighed, putting her pen down on the notepad, “I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.”

You’re not the only one, you thought with a grimace.

“I am sure you are a good person, that your motivations for working here are true,” she elaborated, “But your lack of training? Your lack of … experience,” she gave you a pitiful look, “I am simply not convinced you are cut out for the work we need here.”

You had always thought it but hearing someone else say it to your face hit deeper than you ever could have thought. Your fingers started to tremble and you clasped your hands together, squeezing them to somehow force yourself to remain with as much dignity as you could.

“Okay,” you nodded, taking a deep breath in the hopes that it would keep your tears at bay, “What – what does that mean?”

“As there are no reasons for a suspension based on your mental health, the next step would be that I get in contact with your supervisor,” she threw a look on her paper, “SSA Aaron Hotchner, is that correct?” you nodded and she continued, “A written evaluation of your role at the BAU will be requested and then we will go from there. Best case scenario is you won’t leave at all, worst case scenario …”, she trailed off.

Of course, she did not need to finish the sentence for you to know what she was saying.

Worst case scenario: You would leave the FBI.

Realization washed over you and you smiled tightly at her. “Thank you, Dr Johnson,” you stood up, reaching a polite hand out to her which she took, “If you will excuse me, I should get back to my desk while I still can.”

Dr Johnson smiled kindly at you which only made it worse. She was pitying you. She felt sorry for you. Sorry for your incompetence, sorry for you not belonging in this place.

You felt like you would throw up any minute.

“Of course, Agent,” she said softly, “I will inform your supervisor of my recommendation. You will receive a copy of the protocol within the next week.”

You nodded, not meeting her eyes as you hurried out of her office.

The staff washroom on the third floor was always empty.

You knew that from the fact that you had often used it as a refuge after nearly dissolving into tears in the bullpen. That and the fact that the third floor was far away enough for anyone of the BAU to search for you here made it the perfect place to come after your talk with Dr Johnson.

You threw a look on your watch.

Six minutes. You would give yourself six minutes and then you would go to your desk and work on those reports and show Dr Johnson that you loved your job and that you were capable of doing it. You would show her that you were not the anxious, incompetent student she saw in you but someone who could be an asset to the team.

I am not sure if you are the right fit for the FBI.

Tears shot into your eyes and you locked the little cabin behind you, sitting on the edge of the toilet as you rushed to grab a few pieces of toilet paper.

The first sob echoed in the tiled room and you pressed the tissues to your mouth, hoping it would muffle the sounds somewhat. Your skin felt too hot and too tight and you could already see how your makeup would be ruined by the tears no matter how hard you tried.

And you had left your backup mascara in your bag at your desk.

Great. Just great.

Anxiety filled you at the thought of having to prove yourself even more than before. After Kansas City and Hotch’s encouraging words, you had somehow hoped that the hard part was over now. That you could focus on delivering good work instead of questioning if everyone doubted your belonging in the unit.

But maybe they were and they were just too polite to mention it? Maybe Dr Johnson was finally saying what they all wanted to spare you from?

Tears were rolling freely over your cheeks now, dropping onto your dress and you cursed, trying to wipe it away and somehow keep your face dry. There were still quite a few hours left in the workday and although you hoped there would not be a case coming in today, you were working along with a team of profilers.

You were like an open book to them even if there was the agreement to not profile each other.

A look on your watch told you it was nearly time to go and you took a moment to listen if anybody was there before stepping out of the little cubicle. It was completely abandoned.

Much like you had expected, you looked an absolute mess and just seeing yourself in the mirror brought fresh tears into your eyes.

“Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity,” you echoed the motto, gripping the edge of the counter and taking deep breaths, “Fidelity, Bravery and Integrity.”

“Hey, kid, how did it go?”

You entered the chaotic bullpen, just barely avoiding crashing into Anderson before making your way to your desk. Reid was seated across from you which meant that no matter how much of a mess you left at the end of a day, it still looked comparably neat.

Now though, it was nearly empty.

“Hi Derek,” you smiled tightly, your eyes still irritated from your impromptu cry session as you sat down at your desk.

You had splashed cold water on your face in hopes of somehow feeling and looking better. Still, you immediately went for your bag, scrambling to find your emergency mascara and lipstick to sneak back into the washroom before anyone noticed.

Especially –

“Agent,” Hotch’s voice boomed through the office and you winced, feeling the heat of tears collecting in your eyes again. You stayed ducked over your bag, hoping that maybe he did not mean you. Maybe he wanted to talk to Derek or Emily or Reid or –

Cleanly polished shoes appeared in your field of vision and you swallowed.

“In my office. Now.”

“Yes, Sir,” you mumbled, hastily wiping your cheek of a stray tear before straightening and following him up the stairs. You ignored Derek’s worried look, instead choosing to straighten your shoulders and stoically look ahead.

This was but an extension of the interview with Dr Johnson. You could do this even if the man terrified and intrigued you more than he should.

You had barely stepped foot in his office when he sat down. “Close the door. Sit down.”

You did, feeling much smaller than you had in Dr Johnson’s office. His lips were tight and he looked incredibly displeased, even for Hotch’s standards. You must have majorly messed up.

His hands were clasped in front of him and your eyes fell to his fingers. You swallowed heavily, hands wringing in your lap as you waited for him to start talking.

“Dr Johnson just informed me that a written evaluation of your performance on this team is being requested.”

“Sir, I can explain, I –“

He raised a hand, effectively silencing you and your mouth snapped shut.

“You do not need to explain anything,” he said calmly, “Dr Johnson is only doing her job and after what happened last week, it might not be such a bad idea.”

You nodded, trying to not seem as nervous as you were.

“Do not worry yourself over it. I meant what I said in Kansas,” he stated, facial expression unreadable, “You are a valuable addition to this team and I look forward to seeing your contributions in the future.”

“Yes, Sir,” you looked down on your hands, trying to hide your nervousness, “Thank you, Sir.”

“Call me Hotch.”

“Yes, Si- Hotch,” you corrected yourself with a sheepish smile. He was sitting at his desk, hands folded on top of it as he looked at you. And fuck, it should be forbidden to look this good. You froze, licking your lips and hoping you would be able to blame it on the dryness of your lips instead of you imagining what it would be like to feel his mouth on yours.

Not the time, a rational part of your brain reminded you, So not the fucking time.

Shuffling through the crowded metro you pressed your phone to your ear.

“I promise, it is all right, mom,” you assured her, letting yourself fall into one of the free seats, keeping your bag pressed against your chest. An elderly woman threw you an offended look and shuffled away from you as if you had any interest in stealing her dog off her hands.

“I am just worried, honey,” your mom said on the other side of the phone, “We are all worried. It is a hard job, isn’t it? And why do they keep putting you up for evaluations? You haven’t even been there for a full year!”

“Mom –“

“Are you okay?” she interrupted you in that voice that only your mom had, “Truly okay?

Your head fell against the window of the wagon, the heaviness of the day washing over you. You took a shuddering breath, “No, Mom, I – I don’t think I am.”

There was a sigh on the other side of the line. She was disappointed and worried, you could hear it already and it did not help to calm the anxiety raging in your stomach. You could almost see her in front of you, the pity in her eyes and the little furrow between her brows.

“You can always come home, hon, you know that, right?” she asked carefully and you cringed at how quiet she was being, “We can still find somewhere else for you to work. A nice option. You can come back home and dad and I will help you. I know it can take some time to find a good position. But you had so much fun doing literature, why not go back to it? You don’t have to stick there if it doesn’t make you happy.”

“But it does make me happy, mom,” you protested, wincing at how desperate you sounded, before adding quietly, “Saving people is what I want to do. And I can do it.”

“I am not saying you can’t, sweetie,” she assured you, “But maybe it is not what you should do with your life, hm?”

You could see that the light was on in the living room when you entered the small hallway. The sounds of the TV washed over your ears and you smiled.

“I’m home!”

A non-committal grunt answered you and you grinned, knowing that he was probably too entranced in whatever crime show he was currently watching. You let your keys fall onto the little side table and made sure to lock the deadbolt before making your way to Josh.

Your heels made clicking sounds on the floor and you took care to be as quiet as possible. “Hi,” you grinned, waving at him.

Josh was tall and lanky. And despite being offended if you ever told him that – looked exactly like one would imagine a law student to look. He was always well dressed and took great care when it came to all things cultural. He drank the best wine, read all the important books, watched all the niche movies to impress people.

Sometimes you joked that of the two of you, he was the one who could be expected to work for a government institution.

“It’s late,” he commented, nodding to the screen, “You’re usually here by the second episode.”

“I wanted to get some reports done,” you explained, shrugging out of your coat, “Had a chat with my boss today again. I thought it might be better to not give any more opportunities to criticize me. How was your day?”

“Boring,” he replied, “Attended that one event about intellectual property and want to lunch with a few friends from uni. You should come with us sometime, you will like them.”

You nodded, already thinking ahead of a day when you would have enough free time to join him and his friends. Dr Jones’ words about having a strong social life to fall back to echoed in your mind and you decided to make more of an effort to make friends.

It would be all right.

There was some Chinese takeout in Josh’s lap and you spotted a few grocery bags in the small hallway to your room and the kitchen.

“Did you get me the bananas like I asked?” you asked, slipping out of your heels.

Josh kept munching on his noddle, making a vague gesture that led you into the kitchen. And there, on the tiny dining table were two green bananas.

“They are not even ripe yet,” you called into the living room, “And I asked for four bananas, not two.”

“What do you need them for anyway?”

“I wanted to bake banana bread,” you said, turning to get out some flour and chocolate chips, “It’s an easy breakfast to have in the metro.”

Josh sighed, walking into the kitchen and throwing himself onto the black dining chair. “You barely eat at home anyway, that’ll just go to waste.”

“Which is exactly why it is nice to have something ready to eat on the go,” you explained, wondering if he had overheard your words.

Cracking two eggs into a bowl, you hummed. “I could bring it into the office,” you mused, starting to mush up the bananas, “I think JJ mentioned she liked it once.”

“To the colleagues that despise you?”

You frowned, “They don’t despise me. They are very nice to me, Josh.”

Josh took the last bite of his noodles, setting down the little container “By the way, Greg is coming over tonight.

“But it’s almost midnight,” you stated, throwing a confused look towards the clock, just to make sure, “Didn’t you say you will leave for that Seattle trip tomorrow?”

“Yeah, if it gets too late he will just stay on the couch,” Josh replied, shrugging. You nodded, not saying anything but knowing deep down that George would occupy the bathroom that morning so you would have to get up even earlier than normal.

That would be a stressful day.

#maybege writes #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader

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