#i think maybe he breathes through his pores?

[hoe4hotchner]

Hi!! If you still take requests could I request Hotch helping a fellow bau member after she tried to hide her ocd from him (like intrusive thoughts, counting and blinking hard etc not cleaning or contamination ocd)

Thanks! xoxo 🧡🧡

Blink twice, tap four times, hold your breath and count to six | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau!gn!Reader | WC: 0.5k  | CW: OCD | Summary: Hotch reasures reader when he notices their OCD being a little more frequent than usual |

You were certain you’d been subtle about it, always careful to keep your mind’s demands invisible. Blinking patterns, counting in repetitive loops, moving your fingers until they felt “right” — these things were all in the quiet spaces, hidden behind closed doors and the shuffle of paperwork. Or so you thought.

But Hotch was observant, maybe too observant for your own good. It started with small things: his brow creasing when you tapped your fingers on the table during briefings, his quiet gaze following when you seemed lost in thought, counting silently to bring calm. You brushed it off, certain he was just being his usual analytical self, until the day his concern broke through the usual boundaries he had set for himself.

It was late, everyone else had gone home for the night. You’d been poring over files, a trail of cold coffee cups beside you, trying to distract yourself from the prickling anxiety that had settled in your mind since a particularly tough case. Then it happened again — blink twice, tap four times, hold your breath and count to six, over and over. You weren’t sure how long you’d been repeating it, but when you looked up, Hotch was standing in the doorway to the conference room — You sometimes worked on your files in there to keep your mind on track.

“Can I come in?” he asked gently.

You cleared your throat, swallowing the reflexive answer to brush him off. “Of course.”

He entered, closing the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the quiet room. You half-expected a reprimand, a reminder to go home and rest, but his gaze was unusually soft, something between empathy and understanding.

“I noticed you’ve been… distracted lately,” he began, his words careful. “More than usual.”

The confession sat on the edge of your tongue, bitter and unwelcome. “It’s nothing. I just get… caught up sometimes.”

He nodded slowly as if weighing your answer. “We all have our patterns,” he said, his voice low and calm. “But if they’re weighing on you, you don’t have to hide them. Not from me.”

The words caught you off-guard. Your heart pounded, the intrusive thoughts flaring up in response to his kindness, an immediate discomfort in your chest at the vulnerability.

“Hotch, I don’t want anyone to think… that I can’t handle this.” The admission tumbled out, quieter than you’d intended. “Sometimes, my brain… it gets stuck in loops. It makes me repeat things to feel okay.”

He nodded as though he’d known it all along. “You’re one of the most resilient agents I know. But you don’t have to manage all of this alone.” He took a seat beside you, close enough that you could feel his presence. “If something is weighing on you, I want you to tell me. I can help.”

There was a soothing rhythm to his words, one that almost matched the way you counted, but softer and kinder. You swallowed, fighting the wave of embarrassment that rose at the idea of admitting everything. But his hand, warm and steady, rested on yours.

“I don’t think less of you,” he continued his voice barely a murmur. “In fact, I have more respect for you than you realize. What you’re dealing with doesn’t make you weak — it shows your strength.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words settle in your mind like stones sinking to the bottom of a pond.

“Thank you,” you whispered, the words carrying all the gratitude you hadn’t known you were holding.

[parme-san]

but what if they were on land and then spongebob wrapped his nose in a moist towelette and breathed through that

this is making me laugh so hard sorry. what if that did happen

[chococolte]

Your sagau zhongli is my fave! Devotion is soooo good he's so good!! If he were offered a reward, what would he ask for? He definitely deserves good things for being such a dedicated worshipper

word count. 1.6k

୨୧ — ꒰ cw. yandere, unhealthy relationships, possessive & obsessive thoughts/behaviors, sagau + cult au shit, religious themes, g/n reader.

୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. hi guys......... sorry i took so long to write this, and im so happy you like my characterization of him!!!! it means so much to me!!!

Your praise.

Zhongli has rarely ever wanted. 

When he was young, still arrogant and born of war, Zhongli didn't want— he took. He had no need of envy or desire. What he could not have, he would get in time. Immortality comes with an infinite patience. 

If he was still that god, flippant and self-important, maybe he would demand some sort of compensation. Some sort of recompense for past agony.

For as long as Zhongli's lived, he has never wanted; not in the way a mortal yearns for their lover, or the way a dog longs for its owner until it whines. Never in any way that mattered, never before he met you.

Zhongli has had eons to become used to the loneliness that so often encompasses him. And now, knowing that you breathe the same air as him, he's become rather acquainted with the ever consuming desire to nestle close to you, like ink caressing every pore of canvas. 

His desire runs through him— barking and loud, rapid and frantic— but when faced with you, a whisper, whimpering in the dark crevices of his ribs. At times, he comes close to asking you to hold him, but decorum and propriety keep him in place, tight and tense.

Liyue was built knowing your gaze followed him. Its foundations set, earth molded, and its rivers bent, hoping they would be fit to your liking. His every breath spent chasing after your favor, desiring to be remade in your image, to be exactly what you want him to be. Afraid that, when finally met with you, you will not like what you see.

Zhongli has rarely ever wanted, and rarer still, has he ever feared.

It's a mortal's fear. The fear of their lord displeased with their harvest. A boyish fear, made up of desperation and the fear of disapproval; one he shouldn't feel, one he should feel no familiarity with. One he suspects many have felt when within his own presence.

When you ask him what he would like in return for all of his efforts— a reward, you say— Zhongli feels his breath seized from him.

Zhongli lived much of his early life against you. At every opportunity, he rebelled at what he thought was a cruel god. Imperious and charged with Guizhong’s death, he would have demanded answers. 

For him to have lived while those he cared for perished without a moment's repose, for him to have survived every moment of cruel war when each breath was like a whip against his lungs— he deserved to know, if you were as real as Guizhong so staunchly believed, why he had lived in her place.

Yet, despite centuries of tempered rage, Zhongli has become content to live as nothing more than your servant. 

He tells you he wants for nothing. That all he desires now is the simplicity of being beside you; the escape of your laughter, where there's no need to concern himself with anything other than you. He tells you he only wishes to know how to take care of you better, how to align himself with your tastes and desires.

"I insist," you say, and Zhongli realizes it's a command. His mouth turns dry, and every word settles on his tongue like heavy weights, dead and still.

You stare, and his breath hitches, his heart a swell in his chest. Zhongli thinks of every answer, how your reaction to any could either breathe life into him, or leave him broken. How, for a moment, he amuses himself with the idea of asking for your touch— the cusp of your palm on his cheek, your fingers against his spine; how he could ask, and how you might favor him enough to do so. 

He then thinks of asking you for reassurance. For affirmation of forgiveness for the actions in his youth. To finally have the certainty that he hasn’t failed you, and maybe, the confirmation that you may care for him.

“Forgive me for my impropriety, Your Grace,” Zhongli begins, voice light and breathy. His hand rests on his chest, fighting the urge to dig into his skin, hoping to calm the pounding of his heart. “But… if I may, I was wondering if I had done right by you?”

You sit inertly in silence for a moment, and Zhongli wonders if it’s on purpose, some sort of punishment for daring to ask such a thing. You had no reason to reward him, and he had been blessed enough to hold your attention for longer than a moment. He had no right to ask for your thoughts, not so directly.

He thought he knew that. It was why he followed you, why he made sure your every request was completed to the highest standard. If you mentioned the taste of your tea being too bitter, or sweet, or that you’d rather he prepare something else for you entirely, he would rush to follow your word. Even if he had been the one to brew it, even if it was him who cultivated the leaves, even if he thought it would be to your liking.

All he needed was to be helpful. All he needed was you. Within you, was his salvation— within you, was love itself. Without you, the once great Lord of Geo was but a fragmented elemental wisp of energy, only ever calling your name.

A spike of adrenaline rushes through him, fear and anxiety denying any sense of hope. All he hears is the solitary sound of his heart in his ears. 

“You have only ever done good by me.”

Zhongli’s heart lurches, heat rippling through his body. You say it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and his mind feels dizzy at the implication. The ground sways, and his feet feel light. 

“You deserve more than that, I think.” You step forward, and Zhongli is so lost within his own thoughts, he takes no notice of your sudden increase in proximity— but his breath still quickens, and red still coats the apples of his cheeks. 

“Kneel,” you whisper, and though you say it so softly, it's as though the sky had been torn asunder with the speed he responds. Zhongli’s mind still feels far away, but he hears your orders as if spoken directly into his ear.

He drops to his knees, no care for whether he does so elegantly enough. All he can focus on is the weight of your gaze, and the way he's the only thing under it.

“Do you want me to praise you?” You trace his jawline with your finger, still speaking in a soft, unhurried tone. “Do you want me to tell you how much of a good boy you are?”

Zhongli inhales sharply, fighting every thought that screams at him to eagerly lean into your hand. He stares up at you, russet lashes fluttering and amber eyes swallowed by adoration and worship. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” he whispers hoarsely. 

Your thumb swipes over his lower lip, and a whine rises to the back of his throat. 

“My good boy.” Zhongli’s entire body shudders, his chest heaving. A shaky breath escapes him. “You've been waiting to hear that for so long, haven't you?”

He whimpers, then nods in a way he hopes doesn’t come across as overeager— quickly bereft of any sense of propriety, or care for whether or not he’s making a fool of himself. All he can concern himself with is how close you are, how easily your scent renders him still, how quickly he borders on senseless. 

You smile at that, and he bites his tongue to stop himself from whimpering. 

“Do you want me to tell you how grateful I am?” Your fingers move across his neck, brushing against his Adam’s Apple, watching it bob as he gulps, trying to keep himself steady and not fall against you. “How you're my favorite?”

An ugly sound rips from Zhongli’s throat, and it's one he's instantly ashamed of. Every part of him feels bare in front of you, laid out messy and without decorum. The mask he’s worn for eons steadily breaks, and every one of his veins and bones scream out for your warmth. 

The Lord of Geo wouldn’t have ever allowed himself to be so vulnerable. He never would have amused himself with the thought of pleading for anything, or kneeling and falling apart because he was treated softly— least of all, of being so desperate to know that you love him; that you favor him. 

Zhongli, now without his Gnosis, is as mortal as the men he used to lord over. And perhaps it’s his newfound mortality that moves him to lean into your hand, frantically trying to meld your fingers against his skin until his flesh is like clay inlaid with your fingertips; hoping that you’ll rebuild him until he fits your desires, and tell him again that he’s proven to have done good by you. 

Every thought is a prayer, another hymn, another psalm.

“Am I? Your favorite?” 

His voice trembles, and breathes into a soft whisper. Zhongli doesn’t mean to sound so desperate— he doesn’t mean to be so greedy— but his soul has never felt so full before. His mind is so mired by your touch and voice that he doesn’t realize his lack of formality, or how he might come across as arrogant. 

He wants only to think of you, and so he does. Nothing else matters.

“Yes.” You chuckle, and his heart speeds up at the sound, fervent. “Why would I want anyone else?”

Zhongli whines, and faintly, through the blur of fanaticism and worship, thinks that no matter what you asked of him, he would do it without hesitation. 

[gojoest]

satoru sleeps three hours a day. or at least, he used to. before you came into his life, that is.

now he wakes up an hour earlier to take his morning dose of you. keeping his eyes closed when next to you seems like a sin, a waste of his precious time he could otherwise spend just searing your beauty into the depths of his consciousness until he knows by heart every little pore on your body.

being sleep deprived he’s used to, but being you deprived might lead to his actual demise, he thinks — so he cannot risk that by any means. because if he were to die, another man would lay his eyes on you, another man would want to make you his.

unacceptable, he thinks. the audacity? the preposterousness? — he curses internally, angry at a man who doesn’t exist.

i can’t even go in peace, huh? what troublesome woman you are — he thinks to himself. a soft smile creeping in on his lips as his eyes sink in the sight of you rubbing your cheek on the pillow, slowly arching your back and stretching before you even open your eyes.

“i know you’re staring at me”, you say, voice quiet and still loaded with sleep.

“and what if i am — can’t i look at my woman?”

you chuckle halfway through your yawn. you like the way he calls you his woman. it’s not romantic at all, yet it makes your heart flutter. maybe because he sounds so manly. maybe you like being owned by him like that.

“sure you can — but i am sorry your woman is such a mess in the mornings, must be a disastrous sight to witness each and every day”

“no — my woman is always beautiful”, he pouts, “and even cute when she drools on my chest or on the pillow in her sleep — although i’d rather she did it on my chest”

you slap him softly on the arm. “now that’s quite embarrassing”, you sigh.

“it’s quite beautiful, if you ask me”

“i didn’t”, you shoot and he snorts. “i meant it’s quite embarrassing that you’d be jealous of a mere pillow”

“when the topic is you i become quite irrational, you see — i don’t want you drooling anywhere else but on me”

“or else what? you’ll confiscate my pillow and make me sleep on your chest?”

“that’s not a bad idea, you know”, he grins, face leaning closer, reaching for a kiss, a drop of that sweet wetness beyond your lips that he’s been dying to get a hold of since the second he woke up.

but,

you dodge — you cover your mouth with both of your hands, and you avoid the kiss. “i need to wash up first”

“but i want to kiss my woman”

“you’ll kiss her once she freshens up”, you muffle into your palms.

“okay” — he’s used to you being difficult like this. you’ve swallowed each other’s slick and cum countless of times, yet here you are worrying over morning breath.

he sighs.

“okay”, he repeats as he slides his body down the bed, and only stops once his face is on the level of your lower half. peeling the warm covers off your body, he glances up at you — eyes half mischievous, half nonchalant, perfectly conveying the fact that you brought this upon yourself.

“that’s not the only place i can kiss”

[reiding-writing]

Can i get a workshop session? How about spencer with a reader who's actually smarter than him? Maybe she's younger too, thanksss

GENIUS² — SPENCER REID!

working alongside another genius was a blessing, in more ways than one.

early!seasons!spencer x reader | fluff | 1.3k | event masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n— the genius x genius trope is great i love it

Spencer Reid prided himself on being one of the smartest people in the room.

At 24 years old, he was a genius with an IQ of 187, three PhDs under his belt, and an eidetic memory that made him practically a walking encyclopaedia.

His mind moved faster than 99.7% of the world’s population, processing information, analysing patterns, and solving puzzles with ease.

But none of that prepared him for you.

You were younger than him by two years, and while you didn’t have a wall lined with degrees like Spencer, your intelligence was undeniable.

A bachelor’s degree in Theoretical Physics had been enough to earn you a spot in the BAU, something that had surprised even you.

Hotch had seen something in you—your ability to not only understand the unsub’s behavior but to intuitively connect pieces of information in ways most people couldn’t. It was something the team found invaluable.

And it didn’t take long for Spencer to notice.

Where Spencer excelled in academic brilliance, you had a talent for thinking outside the box. You connected dots faster than most people even realized there were dots to connect.

Spencer was used to being the one with all the answers, the one who could solve problems others struggled with, but you? You were different. You weren’t afraid to speak up, even if it meant contradicting his carefully constructed theories. You didn’t care about bruising egos, least of all his, and it fascinated him.

The first time Spencer realised you were special was during a particularly tough case.

The team had been chasing down a serial killer for weeks—a cryptic unsub who left strange, undecipherable messages at each crime scene.

Spencer had spent hours poring over the notes, scrawling down numbers, symbols, and trying to make sense of the pattern, but nothing clicked. His frustration was palpable; his fingers were tapping restlessly on the desk, and his usually sharp mind felt like it was hitting a wall.

An iron wall, covered in spikes and barbed wire.

Then you had walked in. Quietly, unassuming, you hovered over his shoulder for a moment before making a suggestion that cut through his fog of confusion.

“You might be thinking about this too literally,” You said casually, your voice breaking through the silence.

Spencer looked up, frowning slightly, both intrigued and a bit defensive. “What do you mean?”

You slid into the chair next to him, your eyes scanning the pages spread out across his desk. “You’re trying to solve this like a mathematical puzzle, but uh— the letters in the corners of his notes are literally just spelling out ‘library’, so I went to the nearest library and spoke to the librarian on staff, she gave me this,”

You pull out a scrap piece of paper from your pocket and hold it out towards him, a handwritten poem.

Spencer blinked, the pieces clicking together in his mind with almost audible force as he took the poem from you.

You’d identified the connection instantly, something Spencer would have done himself had his mind not been knotted up in frustration. But instead of feeling defeated, he was astonished.

“How did you-?” He asked, genuinely curious.

You shrugged, as if it were obviousLooking at the bigger picture can be really useful sometimes,”

Spencer stared at you for a moment longer, watching as you calmly began jotting down more notes, your mind racing ahead as if you’d never even paused for breath. He realised, in that moment, that you weren’t just another member of the team. You were his equal—possibly even more than that.

From then on, Spencer found himself constantly intrigued by you. The two of you often ended up working side by side, bouncing ideas off each other in a way that was both exciting and intimidating for Spencer.

You were quick, your mind moving in a different way than his, and he found himself almost eager to keep up with your train of thought. You saw things he didn’t, caught details he might have missed, and he wasn’t sure how to handle that. No one had ever made him feel… not inferior, but challenged in such a unique way.

The conversations between you were often odd. Both of you were too intelligent for typical small talk, so you found yourselves discussing obscure facts or debating over scientific theories in the most random of moments.

Spencer would mention something about a 14th-century mathematician, and you would immediately counter with a parallel discovery made in physics centuries later. Neither of you really knew how to navigate personal conversations, so you stuck to what you both understood—facts, theories, and knowledge.

One evening, after a particularly long day spent on another complex case, the bullpen was empty except for the two of you. The team had gone home, but you stayed behind, just like Spencer always did, combing through the evidence again, searching for a missing piece.

You were seated across from him, your brow furrowed in concentration, scribbling notes onto a pad of paper.

Every few minutes, Spencer found himself glancing at you. It wasn’t something he could control—his curiosity about the way your mind worked was something that pulled him in, a constant mystery to unravel.

You were focused, absorbed in your task, and Spencer couldn’t help but admire how quickly you picked up on things. Sometimes, you were faster than him, and that realization both thrilled and unnerved him.

“You’re staring again,” you said, your voice breaking the silence without even looking up.

Spencer’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t used to being caught off guard, and you did it effortlessly. “I—I wasn’t staring. I was just… thinking.”

You finally looked up, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “What were you thinking about?”

He swallowed, his brain scrambling for an answer that didn’t sound ridiculous. “You’re really good at this,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

Your smirk softened into something more genuine. “You are too.”

Spencer opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure how to respond. Compliments weren’t his strong suit, and he wasn’t used to receiving them either. “I mean, you’re younger than me, but you’re just as—no, sometimes more—effective than I am. It’s… impressive.”

For the first time since he’d met you, you looked almost shy. “I’ve always looked up to you, you know,” You admitted quietly. “When I first started here, I thought you were kind of untouchable. Like, how could anyone keep up with a guy who knows literally everything?”

Spencer stared at you, speechless. The idea that you—someone he viewed as his intellectual equal, if not superior—had once looked up to him was almost unbelievable. It made him see you in a different light.

“Well,” he said, after a long pause, “I guess we keep each other on our toes.”

You smiled at that, leaning back in your chair. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. It was a strange dynamic—two people too intelligent for normal conversations, yet too awkward to fully acknowledge the unique bond that had formed between you.

But it worked. You pushed each other, kept each other sharp. Whenever Spencer stumbled over an obscure reference, you were there to catch it. When you went too far into the realm of abstract thinking, Spencer reeled you back in with hard logic.

You were a perfect balance—an unstoppable team, even if neither of you would say it outright. And in a world where people rarely understood either of you, you had found something important in each other, an unlikely equal.

[dark-dawn]

₊˚ ⊹｡ BIRDS OF A FEATHER ｡ ⊹ kageyama tobio

✭ summary: perhaps even in the vast, chaotic expanse of all the planets and stars and galaxies, you would always find each other. in every world, every universe, again and again. or, your photo shoot is interrupted by your ex-boyfriend.

✭ pairing: kageyama tobio x model!reader

✭ contains: exes still in love, mutual pining, slight angst, post-timeskip, alcohol + smoking, everyone is very touch-starved and can't keep their hands to themselves, longing and devotion!!, happy ending <3

✭ word count: 3.6k ✭ a/n: i recently watched the movie, and now i can't stop thinking about kageyama. so here we are :)

you were nineteen when you broke up with tobio.

back then, the world seemed to constrict around you – streets narrowing, air thinning – as if the universe itself conspired to magnify the ache in your lungs. it was as though every passing moment folded in on itself, squeezing tighter with each breath, until you felt suffocated by the weight of your own existence.

but maybe you were just nineteen, and everything felt worse then.

you find comfort in the idea that among the countless universes unfurling across the cosmos, there exists one where you and him are together, where the threads of fate intertwine just right. perhaps you first meet in a quaint coffee shop on a rainy afternoon, where you’ve forgotten your umbrella, and he offers to share his own. or maybe it’s a bustling bookstore, where your hands reach for the same novel, and your eyes meet with a spark of recognition, as if your souls can recognise each other through touch alone.

and maybe there is a universe where he doesn’t become a professional athlete. he’s just tobio, a boy with kind eyes and dreams that don’t pull him miles away from you. there, perhaps, saturday mornings are spent in bed, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries lingering in the air. golden morning light would filter through the curtains, casting a hazy glow over your bodies, and your joy would radiate so intensely that your vision is filled only with each other. you’d fight over silly things, like whose turn it is to do the dishes or whether the couch should be moved two inches to the left. but even in those moments, there’s a comfort, a certainty that at the end of the day you’d still find yourselves curled up together, sharing the warmth of the same bed.

in another universe, maybe it’s not so perfect. there are arguments that sting, silence that stretches too long. and yet despite the cracks and the flaws, you choose each other, again and again.

but here, in this reality, you were nineteen when you broke up with tobio. you cried until there were no tears left, until the numbness set in and the world seemed dull and grey.

and then you learned to navigate life without him, because the world wouldn’t end because you broke up with your boyfriend. 

three years later, tobio is... well, he’s still a professional athlete, at the peak of his career now. sometimes, his name pops up on your social media feed, accompanied by images of him on the court, sweat glistening, determination etched into every muscle, into every pore. it still feels strange, seeing him there, and not by your side.

there’s an undeniable magnetism to him, a gravitational pull that draws your gaze despite your best efforts to look away. he’s a force of nature, like a raging wildfire or relentless flood; more natural disaster than a man of flesh and bone. you can’t help but feel a pang of something – nostalgia, perhaps, or maybe a twinge of envy. you always liked to watch him play, but now you’re really on the sidelines. 

seeing him on your phone is always a reminder of just how far apart your worlds have drifted, how different your paths have become. he’s soared to unimaginable heights, and you can’t reach him anymore.

you miss him. it’s an ache you can’t seem to shake.

but you’re not doing bad per se. you’re a model now, signed to an agency, and getting semi-regular jobs, too. it’s a far cry from your nineteen-year-old self who was too insecure to ever apply. you remember how daunting it was at first, the fear of rejection teetering on your shoulder blades. it lingers still, in the long hours and perfectionism, but you’re proud of yourself.

you just miss him.

---

you’re at a club when you find out you landed the most significant booking of your career.

you’re not exactly thrilled to be there – a promoter had convinced you to come, and, well, you needed the money.

the bass thumps through the floor, reverberating up your legs as you stand near the bar, nursing a drink. neon lights dance across the crowd, illuminating the faces of strangers lost in a haze of alcohol. you take a sip, the liquid burning as it slides down your throat, momentarily distracting you from the mess around you.

you pull out your phone, the screen casting a faint glow against the darkness of the club. your fingers fumble for a moment before you manage to unlock it, the pulsing music and jostling bodies making it hard to focus. a notification from your agent pops up, and you squint at the words, trying to make sense of them in the dim light. you blink, then read it again, just to be sure.

you got the job.

it’s for an athletic brand. not exactly the glamour you’ve dreamt of, but the pay... the pay is good. and working for them means exposure, means more opportunities down the line. sure, it’s not the pinnacle of your aspirations, but it’s a step – a big one – in the right direction. and right now, that’s all that matters.

you’ll celebrate later, you decide, once you’re somewhere quieter, somewhere you can properly let it sink in. maybe with friends and family, but definitely not with a text to your ex, telling him how well you’re doing, how he would be proud of you.

you wonder if there will be a day when you don’t think about him.

---

kageyama did not cry when you broke up with him. he had wanted to, he thinks, but at the time he just felt numb – like a cold emptiness had settled deep within his chest, drowning any semblance of feeling.

in the days that followed, he replayed the conversation in his mind, searching for some hidden meaning, some clue as to why it had all fallen apart. but the truth eluded him, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. he only remembers the disbelief, as if the ground had suddenly dropped out from beneath him.

but tears? they didn’t come. just a hollow ache, a void where your presence used to be.

and so, he buried himself in his work, throwing himself into training like usual. volleyball has always been his world – not just a game, but a language he speaks fluently. from the moment he first picked up a ball, he knew he had found his calling, his purpose in life. it was the very essence of who he was and is.

he still remembers a conversation you had with him – about how rare it was to know what you were destined for, to have a passion that consumed you so completely. he sometimes wonders if that’s why you had drifted apart. but he couldn’t blame the sport, not really.

sometimes, in the quiet moments between matches, he allows himself to wonder what could have been if things had ended differently between you. he envisions alternate paths, where your story together didn’t reach its abrupt conclusion – where you shared an apartment in tokyo and spent sunday mornings tangled in sheets. where every glance, every touch, was infused with a sense of belonging, of being exactly where you were meant to be.

but as quickly as these visions materialise, they dissipate into mist, swept away by the roar of the crowd. he makes a conscious effort to redirect his focus, reminding himself that the only path worth pursuing is the one ahead – toward the next serve, the next point, the next victory.

because the world didn’t end when you broke up with him. and kageyama, ever the competitor, refused to let it break him.

three years later, it had honed him to a razor’s edge, forged him into one of japan’s best players.

his pride in his career runs deep – every milestone, every hard-fought victory, every bruise and callus on his hands stands as a testament to his dedication and skill. he finds solace in the rhythm of the game, the familiar feel of the ball in his hands. it’s a dance he knows well, a symphony he conducts with ease. and in those moments, when he’s completely immersed in volleyball, the ache fades to the background, and he feels whole again.

and yet, he still misses you – still loves you. he doesn’t think he will ever stop. you were more than just a memory, you were a part of him, too. a missing piece that no amount of success or recognition could replace.

in the end, he accepts it. the longing, the ache – they’re part of the same drive that makes him excel on the court. he channels that energy, that unresolved emotion, into every match, every practice session, pushing himself to be better, to achieve more.

he finds himself tangled, however, in a web of obligations he never quite anticipated. adverts, interviews, appearances – the demands weigh heavy on his shoulders. it’s not what he signed up for, but he grits his teeth through the endless photo shoots, smiles plastered on his face for the cameras. he knows it’s all part of the game.

he can almost picture your reaction, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you watch him stumble through the world of fame and publicity. he was never one for the spotlight – comfortable only around a select few, always at ease with you.

as he scrolls through his emails, a notification from his manager catches his eye. his next commitment is for an athletic brand – a familiar name that he’s collaborated with in the past. he quickly scans the details, noting the time and location of the shoot. it’s familiar territory, a well-worn path he’s treaded many times before. at least with this one, he’s just advertising sportswear – something he practically lives in already.

he just didn’t expect to do be doing the campaign with you.

---

your agent had given you the heads up beforehand. “it’s the usual routine,” she assured you, though her tone betrayed a hint of urgency. “but there’s a chance a well-known athlete might join for some test shots. don’t worry about it, just be professional.” it was patronising, but you appreciated the warning nonetheless. dropping that you’d be working with a celebrity isn’t out of character for her; she has a talent for delivering bombshells with the same nonchalance she’d use to tell you it might rain.

like when she casually mentioned that your recent shoot would be featured in a major magazine, just as you were about to walk out the door. or the time she informed you, in between sips of her almond-milk latte, that a renowned director would be on set to “observe”. these little surprises were her specialty, and you had come to expect them, even if they never failed to set your nerves on edge.

arriving at the studio, you’re greeted by the usual hustle and bustle. anxious, over-worked assistants scurry around, trying to ensure everything is in place. the aroma of coffee brewing in the corner wafts through the air, mixing with the faint scent of hairspray. you take a breath, letting the atmosphere ground you. celebrity or not, you know what you’re doing.

like usual, you’re ushered into the wardrobe area, shedding your street clothes for a sports bra and leggings. the stylists swarm around you like bees, their skilled hands darting in a flurry of motion. they adjust, pin, and tweak, ensuring every seam and fold falls perfectly into place. it is a carefully curated illusion designed to sell as much merchandise as possible, and you are just another product on display.

the crew members move with practiced efficiency, adjusting lights and tweaking camera angles until everything is just right. the photographer, a tall man with an air of calm authority, greets you with a small smile. “let’s start with some warm-up shots,” he suggests, positioning you in front of the camera.

you begin with basic poses, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, finding your balance. the photographer’s assistant calls out directions, “chin up a bit, shoulders back, hold that!” the camera clicks incessantly, capturing every subtle movement.

and then, just as you’re settling into it, you hear a voice to the side of you – familiar, unmistakable. turning around, you find yourself face to face with a figure from a chapter you believed firmly closed: your ex, the famous athlete you’re supposed to be working with.

the boy you broke up with when you were nineteen.

the shoot halts momentarily as the director moves to make introductions, but –

“we already know each other.”

he’s just as handsome as you remember, maybe even more so. time has been kind to him, sculpting lean muscle and a confidence that wasn’t there when you were younger.

he’s standing there, just mere feet away, and every detail of his face is still seared into your mind – the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, the furrow of his brow. you know him well, even now. every hidden scar, every freckle. you would know him blind.

he doesn’t even glance in your direction.

perhaps he intends to keep things strictly formal, a prospect that suits you just fine. it would be easier, you think, to feign ignorance, to spare both of you the discomfort of awkward interactions when you had once loved each other so fiercely.

it’s strange to be so close to him and not be able to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin under your fingertips.

you realise with sudden clarity that you still want to touch him.

but you can’t think like that. not right now. you have a job to do.

“we’ll get a couple of shots of you together and then you’ll be done for the day!”

---

you thought he wouldn’t be good at modelling, too stiff, perhaps, but your bodies still recognise each other, still remember how to fit together side by side.

it’s almost unfair how effortlessly pretty he is.

you’ve always felt like you had to work twice as hard just to feel remotely confident in your own skin. your beauty doesn’t come naturally, and you suppose the modelling industry thrives on that. on contorting and sculpting a new image, a new person, with every photo.

you wonder if he feels similarly, in interviews and adverts and under the scrutiny of the public eye. it must weigh heavy on him too, you think.

you hope he’s okay, and you realise you could ask him, maybe, if that’s still okay?

as the photoshoot gradually draws to a close, you find yourself hesitating, unsure whether to linger or to swiftly retreat. part of you wants more time, to look at him for a little longer, to be by his side once more. but another part of you, perhaps the more cautious side, warns against overstaying your welcome, against stirring up old emotions that may be better left untouched. you glance at him, catching his eye for a brief moment, before turning away.

you quietly pack your bag and step outside for a smoke, seeking comfort in the familiar ritual. it was a bad habit – one you had picked up about a year ago from a girl you did a casting with. the cool air offers a brief respite from the swirling thoughts in your mind, but as you exhale a plume of smoke, you can’t shake the uncertainty gnawing at your insides. you’re so unsure of yourself – you hadn’t felt this way since you were sixteen, nervous about your first date with the boy on your school’s volleyball team. do you want to say hi? do you want scream at him? both? neither?

he makes the decision for you. he always was so decisive.

“this wasn’t where i’d expected to find you.”

“no?” you’re not sure if you should be offended or not. does he mean modelling?

“what’s that supposed to mean, kageyama?” the words come out blunter than you intended – they’re not the words you had planned late at night, missing his body next to yours.

but it’s been years since you’ve spoken to him.

“tobio.” he smiles reflexively – your voice always had that effect on him. 

“what?”

“you never called me kageyama.”

“tobio.” his name still reminds you of home, but it clings to your tongue like honey, sweet and heavy, coating every word.

“what do you mean?” self-doubt trickles down your throat. you wonder if you will ever stop caring what he thinks of you.

“i suppose i just pictured you somewhere far away from this world,” he pauses. “stupid, really. you’ve always been so pretty.”

you’re not sure how to respond to that, either.

“listen, i..." he begins again, then hesitates, as if grappling with his own thoughts. “i just meant to say i hope you’re doing well. that you’re happy.”

a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “you know, before we left school, i gave it – what – two years before you were on japan’s team. you always were an overachiever.”

“i had good motivation, wanted to make you proud.”

the wind shifts, blowing his hair across his face. you extend your hand, fingers instinctively brushing away the strands. he stares at you, unflinching, as if the world outside you and him no longer exists. like he never wants to look away.

“you have always made me proud,” you confess.

a moment of silence, then, “i miss you.” he says it like a prayer, faithful and devoted. still, after all this time.

“don’t say that.”

“why not?”

“if today didn’t happen, you wouldn’t have seen me again.”

“i would’ve found you.”

“and how could you be so sure?”

“because some things are inevitable. fate, i suppose.”

“you can’t just say things like that, tobio,”

“i’m not saying it lightly. i mean it.”

“i know, but it’s been years. people change.”

“maybe,” he concedes, taking a step closer. “but some things don’t.”

you were already aware of his fixations long before your paths crossed – achieving what he has demands an undercurrent of obsession to temper the blaze of brilliance. you did not predict how that obsession might manifest when directed towards a person. how it might feel.

you’ve never been kind enough to refrain from taking everything he lets you, never had the sense to check the depth of a river before wading in. perhaps you will always stumble blindly into the waters, ignorant of the depths that may swallow you whole, heedless of the currents that may drag you under.

and so you kiss him.

a little noise of surprise leaves his lips, but he quickly recovers, as if he had anticipated this turn in the conversation. like it was inevitable, instinctual.

you can feel the contours of muscle through his shirt, his uneven breaths, the overwhelming intensity of his lips against yours. there’s a hint of indecision in his touch, wavering between tenderness and urgency. soft, gentle kisses intermingled with fervent, desperate ones, like he can’t decide between cherishing and consuming.

he leaves you breathless and desperately needing more as his lips trail along your jawline. your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as if afraid to let go, as if this moment might slip away like a dream.

you wanted this. wanted him. you don’t think you ever stopped.

“you drive me mad,” he breathes. “always, always on my mind.”

but you were nineteen when you broke up with tobio, and now three years have slipped by.

(and you’re outside a photo studio, thankfully deserted, but that’s beside the point.)

so you draw back slightly, breaking the intensity of the moment but still close enough to feel his warmth. his touch lingers, torn between holding on and letting go.

you had been in his presence for just a few hours and you felt raw, like skin scraped against pavement after a fall, exposed and stinging with every touch.  

“this is a terrible idea,” you whisper, the words heavy.

“i don’t care. i’ll follow you wherever you go.” he has always been one to worship, always the type to pour the entirety of his being into his devotions.

and who were you to argue with him – to oppose such faith?

---

the photos of you and him go viral. oddly enough, you’re not surprised – there’s something about the way you fit together, the connection evident in every frame. people comment on how familiar the two of you look, how effortlessly intimate.

then, one of tobio’s fans unearths old pictures of you and him together, tucked away in the depths of his twitter account. you both look so young, almost unrecognisable compared to the refined public images you now project. there’s a rawness to the photographs, a sense of innocence preserved in pixels. you stand shoulder to shoulder, his arm draped casually around your shoulders, and you both radiate such genuine happiness.

his previous tweets were a monotonous stream of game highlights and obligatory promotions, and it’s clear he rarely uses his account for personal matters. yet, among the myriad of mundane updates, there is a tweet asking him if the two of you are back together.

and then, in a move that could only be described as infuriatingly nonchalant, he responds with a single word.

“yes.”

[yammpi3]

𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙉𝙄𝙂𝙃𝙏 𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙆𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙤 𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙞 [𝙃𝙖𝙬𝙠𝙨]

synopsis. You were a former hero commission hero but when you made a simple mistake in a mission the commission sent you on they deemed you unfit and fired you, hence made you out to be a villain to the public. A few years later you meet your old partner Hawks out on his nightly patrol then you guys make up….made out .. :3

— content warnings. sorta plot with smut, eating out, p to v, kissing, sex sex sex, not really coordinated well? i think? dom/sub hawks

— W.C 2.3k

— authors note. This has been rotting in my drafts for like a year now but i thought i should post something…so..heres this!! Im rlly sorry if it’s formatted kinda weirdly, imo the smut is also written sorta weird but i think thats just me..overthinking it ANYWAYS enjoy reading <33 also Thank you FOR 100 FOLLOWERS?? i didn’t expect my blog would reach that much so TYTY.

Hawks sighed heavily, leaning back in his office desk chair, elbows propping on the armrests. He rubbed his tired eyes, tilting his head back, attempting to avoid eye contact with the stack of paperwork that lay out before him.

Every muscle in his body ached with exhaustion. It felt like he had been sitting in this same spot for days, poring over reports and documents in an endless cycle of busy work. As the number-two hero, the public demanded nothing but his very best. They expected him to always be alert and swift in responding to any crisis, dealing with volatile situations and dangerous villains with calm precision. 

But they didn't see this part. They didn't witness the countless late nights spent filling out forms, compiling statistics, and attending meetings after meetings. No cameras captured the headaches induced by mind-numbing bureaucracy or the frustration of dealing with petty politics. This was the hidden cost of his elevated rank—an incessant paper-pushing grindstone that wore him down more than any actual fight ever could. 

 

Slowly dragging his hands down his face, Hawks sighed again as the aches and knots of tension complained loudly in his neck and shoulders. For a brief moment, he considered using his feathers to shred just a few stray documents, to do less work. 

He stretched his arms over his head and rolled his tense muscles, his wings fluttering restlessly behind him. All he wanted at that moment was to forget. To spread his wings and fly through open skies, feeling the wind ruffle through his feathers as he left his troubles far below.

 

Tilting his chair back as far as it would go, he gave a long-suffering look at the piles of work that towered precariously around him, silently pleading with it all to spontaneously catch fire or simply vanish into thin air. With a resigned sigh, Hawks dropped all four chair legs back to the floor and reluctantly pulled the topmost file towards him once more, bracing himself for another grind of the ever-turning wheel.

Hawks rubbed his tired eyes once more, feeling his motivation drain away with each mundane paragraph he read. At this rate, he'd be here all night and well into the morning. With a groan, he tossed the file back onto the pile, temporarily defeated. Maybe a quick break was what he needed to recharge his focus. 

 

Pushing away from his desk, Hawks stood and stretched out his cramped body to its full height, his wings unfolding to their full span. A midnight flight around the city was just what he needed. The cool night air and darkened streets would do wonders for clearing his cluttered mind. 

Stepping out onto his office balcony, Hawks took a few steps back, then launched himself into the sky with his wings. He flew high, circling up towards the crowning heights of the skyscrapers that shone below. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath of the fresher air, feeling tensions beginning to melt away already. 

 

As he glided back down towards street level, Hawks scanned the sidewalks lazily while lost in thought. He was mulling over the options when movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention. 

Your shadow slipped between alleyways, scanning for any civilians in the area. Suddenly flashes of red nearing a rooftop drew your eye—a familiar winged silhouette.

Going on a nearby rooftop, you spotted Hawks looking down, trying to find who or what he saw. 

You and Hawks used to know each other pretty well in your teen years when you dreamed of being a great hero. So when you were selected by  the Commission to become one, you were ecstatic. But from day one, Keigo Takami made things... complicated.

You two went way back to your training days, though you mostly kept your head down back then. Once in the pro scene though, Takami always found ways to rile you up during sessions, whether with sly taunts or risky stunts that pushed protocol to the limit. 

Part of you wanted to throttle that arrogant asshole, but another part couldn't deny the thrill he made you feel. 

Late nights spent training turned into more..private scenarios. For a time, it was nice to find solace in each other. But then came the ruling—you'd been deemed "not hero material" after one mistake, ruining your future. That's when Takami tried to connect with you again, but the hero commission wouldn't even allow him to be close to you to not damage the reputation he already made with the public. 

"You're up rather late for a hero," you whispered directly into his ear, barely suppressing a chuckle at his startled flinch. Golden eyes met yours warily, yet he made no move to escape our intimate embrace. 

"I'm off duty," was his measured reply. "And you?" Smoke clung thick to the memories in his eyes. 

Your fingers, carefully gloved, traced the proud arch of his wings, feeling tension bleed away slowly. "Care for some company, Keigo?"

He held your gaze steadily, considering. At last he nodded, extending a hand. “Not that I can shake you off anyway,” he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

You sat together on the secluded rooftop, settling close against one another. As you caught up, you both couldn't help but feel deprived of each other's touch; it had been far too long since you'd seen one another face to face. Sure, he'd heard about you through others in the commission, but being here together was different somehow. 

When your voices at last fell silent, a gentle touch turned your chin to meet Hawks' searching eyes. "Y/N…" he murmured, leaning in so your faces were mere inches apart. One of his wings stretched out to block any view from the street below, enveloping you both in its feathery embrace. 

Hawks closed the remaining distance between you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft yet insistent kiss.

One hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, as the other wrapped around your waist to draw you flush against his body. You felt even better than he remembered. 

 

When your lips parted under him, Hawks held back a groan as he rested his forehead against yours as you both panted for air. Wisps of steam rose between the two of you in the chill night. 

If he tasted you fully, it would undo his last shred of willpower.

“You're going to be the end of me.." Hawks murmured thickly. Already, he ached to have more, but taking you here against the railing would be too brazen, even for his recklessness. 

"Then take me somewhere more...private then," you shot back in a sinful whisper. 

With a sly smile, Hawks swept you into his arms in a bridal carry, wings already prepared for launch. "Hold on tight.”

 

Hawks kicked off from the roof of the building and took flight, relishing your tight grip around his shoulders. The thrill of having you in his arms sent adrenaline surging through his veins. 

He landed lightly on the balcony of his high-rise apartment, still holding you securely against his chest. Your masked face was turned up to meet his gaze.

"I.. I really missed you," Hawks murmured, pressing you back against the wall with his body. He caged you in with outspread wings, feathers gently ghosting your skin. 

 

"Me too.." you replied. Your hands came up to roam his body just as eagerly.

Hawks captured your lips in a searing kiss, conveying all his pent-up needs and desires without restraint. This was wrong on so many levels, and yet he'd never felt more alive. 

 

Kicking open the balcony doors, he swept you inside and laid you down on his plush sofa. His hands worked busily to remove your mask, wanting nothing between you and him; clothing fell piece by piece until nothing was left. 

 

"Say you want this," Hawks pleaded roughly, desperate for your answer. 

Your intoxicating laughter rang out as you pulled him against your body. "I want all of you, Keigo." 

Hawks' hands roamed your body eagerly, relearning every curve as his lips traveled along your jawline. You sighed contentedly, arching into his touch while undoing the fastenings of his hero costume with practiced expertise. 

 

Slowly, methodically, he kissed his way down the delicate column of your throat. Hawks lingered there to suckle your rapid pulse, eliciting breathy moans. His name falling from your lips in such a manner sent fresh spikes of arousal through him.

 

As you lay bare under him, Hawks paused to simply take in the sublime vision of your naked form, illuminated by the moonlight. "You're so..beautiful," he whispered in awe, tracing idle patterns upon your sensitized flesh.

 

Your hands delved into the downy feathers at his wings' bases, eliciting a guttural groan. The way you caressed his most sensitive areas, teasing but not quite enough, tested Hawks' faltering control. He nipped lightly at the swell of your breast in retaliation.

Tracing a tortuous path down your torso with wet kisses and love bites, Hawks' fingers dipped between your thighs. He chuckled at discovering your slick arousal, already swollen and desperate for friction. Slowly, he circled your clit, gathering your arousal onto his fingers.

 

"Please..." you begged wantonly, bucking your hips to chase more contact. But Hawks would loathe to grant your unspoken request so easily. He continued his maddening ministrations, coaxing you higher and higher with expert precision. Only when your keening cries bordered on anguish did he finally decide to sink two fingers deep inside.

 

The powerful rhythm he set drove you swiftly towards the peak. Hawks swallowed your hoarse screams of completion, savoring your intimate essence on his tongue.

"I've missed this..," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

 

Then his tongue delved into your slick arousal with deft, practiced strokes. Your responsive sighs and the way you grabbed Takami's hair only spurred him onward in his devotions. 

 

He alternated between broad, flat licks and focused flicks directly over your clit. When Keigo very lightly grazed his teeth along your folds, you keened and bucked again into his ministrations wildly. He hummed his approval, sending vibrations through your core.

 

It did not take long for you to climb once more towards the precipice, unraveling beautifully beneath his skilled mouth. Hawks drank deeply from your release, prolonging each aftershock with slow caresses of his tongue. Only when your quivering stopped did he withdraw, his eyes twinkling mischievously as he cleaned his glistening chin. 

 

As he swirled his tongue around his lips, savoring the last hints of you, you gazed up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Your chest still heaved in languid aftershocks of pleasure, your limbs boneless and slack upon the plush cushions.

"Come here," you beckoned hoarsely, crooking a finger. Your body cried out to be filled after such thorough worship, muscles reflexively clenching around nothing inside. 

 

Hawks obeyed without hesitation, crawling up to drape himself over your welcoming form once more. You gripped his shoulders firmly, flipping your positions with a playful show of wiry strength, and smiled down at him wickedly. 

 

Grasping his aching length and rubbing the tip of his cock had him seeing stars. Hawks groaned unabashedly.

Slowly, you let him inside, savoring each velvet glide. Hawks bucked helplessly, claws scrabbling for purchase against the cushions as your sensual walls milked his length.

 

The pleasure you drew from Hawks was exquisite torture. Each roll of your hips sent fresh shockwaves through his twitching member, shattering his composure. He was reduced to begging, his nails scratched weakly at your thighs as you rode him to the brink. 

 

"Please...I need to come," Hawks gasped, moving his hips upward in frantic little thrusts. His cock throbbed painfully with the desperate need for release. 

You smiled down at him cruelly. "Beg for it." Your lips formed the words deliciously slowly, knowing their effect.

Hawks keened, wings fluttering uselessly. "Please let me cum p-please I wanna cum, I need..to please..” 

 

Suddenly, you bore down on him, grinding your pelvis against his in brutal circles. The new angle sent Hawks reaching his high with a raw cry. 

 

You quickly let him pull out as his cock pulsed and thick ropes of seed spilled forth, splattering his taut stomach in pearly ribbons. Hawks shuddered through wave after wave; your continued help milking every last drop from him. 

Breathless and spent, he could only lay pliantly as you leaned down to collect his essence on your fingers. Your wicked tongue flicked out to taste, making Hawks twitch anew in oversensitivity.

 

You smiled softly, your expression gentling as you gazed upon Hawks' flushed, panting form. His chest still heaved mightily in the aftermath of his climax.

 

Reverently, you traced light patterns on his ribs and pecs with delicate fingers, soothing away any last tremors. Hawks hummed appreciatively at your tender touch, grasping one of your hands to press a lingering kiss to the palm. 

 

"Come here, Birdie," you murmured, beckoning him into your open embrace. Hawks complied readily, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with a contented sigh. Your legs tangled together comfortably as his wings folded around you both like a feathery blanket.

No threats of capture or duty rules could penetrate the sanctity of that moment. There, held securely within your arms, Hawks felt at once protected yet free—freed from the shackles of self-doubt and expectation. He belonged, body and soul, to one who accepted him fully without judgment or demand.

 

Drowsiness began to take hold as your rhythmic caresses through soft-down lulled Hawks towards slumber. "Stay?" he mumbled into your skin, his voice blurred by oncoming sleep yet filled with gentle hope. 

You kissed his forehead, followed by a whisper, "I’ll stay, promise." was the sweetest assurance Hawks could wish for.

© yammpi3 2024. All work belongs to @yammpi3. You can repost if you want to support my blog/writing! Please don't modify, translate, or plagiarize in any way on ANY platform.

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite - 13

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Chapter Warnings: afab/fem reader, Smut, protected p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, mild anal play, grinding, thiago riding, spanking, choking, biting, kissing, violence, blood, cursing, misogyny, sexism, Dom!Seungmin, Possessive!seungmin, Possessive!Reader, Soft!Han, reader gets called puppy (a lot), crying,name calling , fluff, angst, Lee know once again being a dick.

WC: 8.3k

There was a wetness that was traveling up the side of your shoulder that woke you up that morning, a little squeaky ‘mwah’ following each moist point of contact. You blearily opened your eyes, catching the sun shining through the thick nylon of the tent and forgetting where you were for a second. 

Before the mild panic could set in, you were hushed from a body next to you, “Shhh baby, you’re alright my sweet girl.” It was Jisung, he had a softness to his tone you hadn’t heard before. 

“Ji?” You asked, delirious from sleep and turning your head to look at him through half closed eyes. 

“Mmhmm” He hummed, continuing his smooches along your shoulder and trailing up to your neck.

You immediately relaxed, closing your eyes and letting out a sleepy sigh. “Wha are ya doin?” 

“Jus’ missed you is all.” He replied, his warm hands digging under the blankets you were buried under and finding the skin of your waist. “Annnnd maybe I was feeling a little needy for my baby.” 

“Mm. Where’s Channie?” You felt his fingers drumming on your skin, finding your hip and giving it little taps. 

“Hyung is clearing up the stuff down by the beach with the others. He wanted to let you sleep.” His kisses were turning into nips and sucks as he got closer to your jaw line. You let him move his hand ever further south, resting in the waistband of your sweats.

“Hmph” You grunted, “ this is letting me sleep huh?” 

“We all have to make sacrifices sometimes, baby.” He tilted your face to meet his, his eyes half lidded with need. “ I needed you.” Jisungs wet lips found yours with a whimper. You melted into his kiss, breathing a sleepy sigh of content. It’s honestly crazy how he hadn’t kissed you for real until right now. Kissing him was exhilarating. You had hoped he had wanted you but now you could feel how bad he craved you though his lips, a mashing of teeth and tongue, as if he was trying to devour you. You were sure you would never forget the tang of his natural taste, it being reminiscent of Sunny D in that sense.

You gave a low whine when the beta wandered his fingers further into your sweats and into your panties. He didn’t delve his fingers in, just gave you more taps on the flesh that was quickly dampening for him. 

“Fuck my baby, need to hear you make that noise again.” He muttered against your wet lips. The beta could smell your arousal filling the tent, leaking through the pores in the nylon fabric. He hoped to be covered in it. Wanted it to seep into his skin.

Jisungs fingers swiped through your accumulating slick, both of you groaning at the feeling.

“Ji, we can’t umm, we can’t do it right now… I don’t think we have any.. Protection.” You managed to get out bashfully, finding it incredibly hard to stay strong on the matter. But you were not about to have a repeat of Chan's fury.  

“Shh my baby, I know. Jus’ wanna make my girl feel good, is all.” His mouth reattached to yours and his nimble digits circled up to your clit after collecting some of your slick. “Mm so fucking wet, nnngh.” He started to whine as he bucked his clothed pelvis into your covered form, unable to stop the motion.

The beta rubbed harshly on your bundle of nerves, panting as he took in your little squeaks and whimpers of pleasure, finding it addictive. Craving more and more. His little grinds only increased when he parted from your clit and plunged a finger into you, feeling your tightness surround his digit. 

“Sungie” you moaned at the intrusion, eyes clenched shut. You had heard he played guitar so you figured he must be good with his hands but fuck. 

He wanted to cry at how sweet you sounded when you whined his name. Ji used his other hand that wasn’t buried in you to rip the blankets off your quickly overheating body then he pulled your bottoms down so he could get better access to you. 

The sight of your drooling pussy and glassy eyes riddled with sleep and lust, pushed him over the edge, and he came untouched in his sweats. “Fuuuuck my baby, prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, oh my fucking god, so perfect, the best omega in the whole world I swear to god.” He rambled as he came, shoving a second finger in and bringing his other to circle your sensitive nub. 

You felt your high approaching, all it took was for him to curl against your special spot inside of you for you to let go. This one felt a little different from the rest that you’ve had before. When you came there was a release, and a flood of your essence shot out of you, soaking both Jisungs hands and the blankets beneath you. You were crying in pleasure at the feeling. “Ji, Jisung oh my gooood, fuck ahhhh.” 

He moaned loudly when you squirted on his hand, “What the fuck oh my fuck thats so hot.” 

The beta worked you through your high, only stopping his thrusting when you weakly grabbed his wrist. You were panting so hard, your lungs were on fire. He didn’t give you much time to catch your breath, though. When he pulled his soaking fingers out of your hole, he was mesmerized by the shine coating his skin. You watched as he shakily brought the same hand up to his own mouth, and put the dripping digits on his tongue. 

Jisung moaned and screwed his eyes shut at the sensation of your slick on his taste buds. “Fuck I need to taste you properly.” 

Before you even registered what he meant, Ji leaned over and buried his face between your thighs, immediately running his tongue through your folds. 

“Ji too sensitive!” You tried to pull him back despite your moans, pulling at his hair but he only whined into you and made a slurping sound. It was positively filthy. It made your head spin and your brain fuzzy. 

He only stopped once he had his fill of the goodness between your legs. When Ji pulled back the whole bottom half of his face was covered in your slick and his pupils were blown up so big they encompassed his entire eye.

He took in your fucked out expression as he licked his lips, not willing to let even a drop go to waste. He always knew he was a munch but it had never been truer until this particular moment. Jisung already longed to suckle your nectar from you once more, even though he was there seconds beforehand. 

Instead of acting on his urges, he pulled your sweats back up over your hips and gave you another wet kiss. You could taste yourself in his mouth and it made you shiver. Your own hand slowly made its way to his crotch but he caught your hand before you could grab at it. 

You pulled away from his kiss in confusion.”Do you not want me to make you feel good too?”

 His cheeks were bright red and he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “Don’t worry about that, baby. I already got mine.” It took you a second to realize what he meant, until your eyes dropped to the wet patch that was starting to appear through his sweats. 

“Oh.” you giggled, trying not to embarrass him. It was honestly flattering that he came in his pants just by touching you. 

“Next time I’ll hold out for you, promise.” He had a dopey grin as you kissed him again. He was just too precious. 

A voice from outside the tent startled you both, “If you two are done fucking in there, breakfast is heating up then we’re gonna hit the road, so it sure would be swell if we could pack up this tent.” Minho. 

You covered your face with your hands, as Jisung screeched, “We were not fucking in here, you twat!” 

“Wow, someone woke up on the right side of the tent this morning.” Hyunjin eyed both you and Jisung when you crawled out of the tent a few minutes later. Jisung still had that dopey grin on his face and you had that sex glow you get after you cum. Hyunjin would know, he’s made you do it. 

“Morning Jinnie.” You smiled at him and leaned up to kiss him. He returned your kiss briefly, before pulling away and pressing a kiss to your nose, causing you to giggle. Jisung skirted off, (you assumed to change his pants).You looked around and noticed most of the camp was already put up. Wow, that was a really quick camping trip. You can't fault them, though. It was pretty impromptu. You noticed every milling about, picking up, except Felix and Chan. “Where’s Lix and Channie?” 

Hyunjin grimaced, “Well, uhh, the hormones you release when your uh, releasing, is a little too much for Felix when he knows he’s not allowed to touch you or anything, so he had to separate himself for a while. He stormed back to the beach and Hyung followed after him.” 

Your eyes found the trail to the beach and with a mind of their own your feet were marching towards it with purpose. You were worried Chan was being mean to Felix and your omega needed to comfort the beta. Hyunjin was shocked as you just took off out of his arms, and he didn’t know whether to stop you or let you go. Thankfully (or maybe not) he didn’t have to stop you. 

Before you could register the presence behind you, a hand snatched your arm, keeping you from proceeding. “You’re not going down there, omega.” That was the harshest you’d ever heard Minhos voice, it made you gasp at how assertive he sounded.  

You snapped your neck in his direction, fire lit in your soul at being told no, again. “And why not, Minho?” 

His cold eyes stared into your fiery ones, “It’s not your place to interfere with the Alphas business. You’re staying right here with us.” 

You both could feel the other five pack members watching the interaction, but neither of you gave a fuck right now. 

“You’re not an alpha, you can’t make me do anything, Minho.” You challenged with a shaky voice. 

His eye twitched and he tilted his head in a nearly menacing way, “ You wanna bet?” 

Your nerves were slipping, unable to help the tremble of your bottom lip. “ Chan said I was the woman of the household. I think that's justification to go where I please.” 

His grip on your arm tightened as he growled, “Yeah. You’re a woman. Not a man. Know your place.” 

You gasped at the gall of his statement and tears sprung to your lash line. A sourness overtook your normally pleasant scent, cascading out of you in waves. “What the fuck is yo-”

“Ok! That’s enough of that!” Changbin was the one to break the tension, removing you from Minho who let you go instantly. The alpha took you in his arms and away from the beta. Minho scoffed as you were rescued, rolling his eyes and going back to his tasks. 

“What is wrong with him?!” You were seething, trying to turn your head to glare but Changbin wasn’t having it. 

“Nuh uh, baby. You just keep looking ahead, no need to get even more worked up.” He was trying to be as calming as possible, attempting to release soothing pheromones to alleviate the tension. He set you down on the open hatch of the truck bed. 

Changbin may have been an alpha but his scent wasn’t as assertive as Chans so it was taking you longer to calm down, “Seriously Binnie, what the fuck is his problem?!” 

He sighed, running this hand through your hair. “Baby, you can’t just challenge Min like that.” 

You huffed in protest. You wanted to roll your eyes but thought better of it. “He started it” 

Binnie chuckled, “It doesn’t matter who started it, baby. You gotta understand his position in the pack hierarchy.  There’s a right and wrong way to handle things. Minho is the second in command in our pack, he is directly under Channie Hyung and that means he deserves the respect of someone in a position of power.” 

Your lip was trembling again as more tears sprung to your eyes, and you let your head fall to face your lap. “When he said to ‘know my place’,  he reminded me of my father. He would say that to me and my mother all the time.” 

“Aww baby, come er.” Changbin cooed and pulled you into his chest as you cried. “I’m sure he didn’t mean it like your father did. It’s all politics, omega. He’s not quite used to being challenged like that. Especially not by our resident sweetheart.” 

“Still hurts my feelings.” You grumbled, wiping your wet cheeks. 

“Mm I know, baby. Let alpha make you feel better.” He began to pepper kisses all over your face, making a show with the loud smooch sounds. You couldn’t help but to giggle as your tears stopped. 

“Ok ok! I feel better!” You laughed and tried to push him off. You hugged him when he finally stopped his kiss attack, nuzzling into his chest. “Thanks Binnie. You’re good at making me feel better.” 

“I always got you, omega.” He pressed a final kiss to your lips then noticed a mass coming up from the beach trail. “Looks like things are ok over there too.” He flicked his head to make you turn your attention. 

Coming up the trail was Chan, with Felix on his back. The alpha was giving a piggyback ride to the younger beta. Felix still had slightly puffy eyes as if he had been crying previously, but now he had a gentle grin as they entered camp. Felix said something in Chan's ear, making the alpha laugh as he set him down. 

Able to pick up the rigidity in the camp, Chan’s eyes flitted around until they locked on yours. He had a questioning look on his face as he took in your puffy eyes then he sent a look to Changbin. The younger alpha lightly shook his head, his eyes flickering over to a tense Minho then back to Chans. Chan sucked his teeth and nodded back. 

Chan set Felix down by the tents where Hyunjin and Jeongin were finishing packing them up and he made his way to you. Changbin gave you a swift kiss and backed away as Chan appeared, giving him a fist bump before going on his way. 

“He’s fine, if you were wondering.” Chan pulled you into him, his chin resting on your head. “Just got himself a little worked up.” 

“I was really worried for him..” you breathed out timidly. “I was scared you were, umm…” 

“Oh I see, you were scared I was punishing Felix again, huh?” He murmured softly. You nodded in response. “My nurturing little omega just wanted to make it better?” 

“Yeah, alpha” Your voice croaked, thick with more on coming tears. “But Min stopped me…He was so mean.”

“Mmm, I know baby. Ya know, I love how much you care about Lix and the other boys.” You nodded again. “Means you're a good omega. A perfect one for this pack.” 

That made you purr in response, feeling vindicated.

 “But,” Shit, nevermind. 

“You gotta let your alpha handle things. Felix and I were only having a conversation, baby. I wasn’t punishing or scolding him. You would have felt pretty foolish storming over there in the middle of our heartfelt conversation, huh?” 

Hmph “....maybe” 

Chan laughed, rubbing your back and planting a kiss on your head, “And cut Min some slack, he can be a dick but he doesn’t mean it most of the time.” 

“Ugghhhhh do I have tooooo?” you pouted dramatically.

“Yes, baby. Where’s my nice, forgiving omega, hm?” He was using his scent to persuade you. 

“M’ right here.” You melted into him, showing your submission. 

“There’s my girl.” Luckily with you pressed against him, you missed the sly smirk he sent Minho- who was balking at how easily he got you to calm down from across the campsite. “I love you, baby.”

“Love you too Channie.”

“Looks like we’re about ready to go. And I don’t know about you but I am ready for a shower.” He laughed.

You sniffled and pulled away from him, “Yeah you stink.” 

He gasped dramatically, “maybe you’re not nice after all.” He hoisted you into his arms as you shrieked a laugh. He had you over his shoulder so you smacked his ass and in return he gave you one back then laid a bite into the side of your thigh, causing you to shriek again. “Let’s roll!” He called out to everyone else, who had just finished getting ready to depart. He sure did love efficiency. 

The ride home felt like it went by way quicker than the journey there. Chan let you pick the music again and you both belted the words to every song together. He didn’t make fun of you when you did little dances to each one (ok maybe he poked fun a little bit). The alpha adored how goofy you could be, and how every day he gets to see more and more of who you are inside; not just what the omega traits gave you. 

The truck pulled up to the house after the others had already arrived, and the pack was already moving everything back where it belonged. You had been bummed the trip had been so short, but now being back home you felt relieved, as if a weight had been lifted from you at no longer being stuck in the woods in a tense atmosphere. 

After helping move some things and taking everyones dirty laundry into the washroom to be dealt with later, you all had gone for showers and naps. Some of them were still hungover from drinking too much (Jeongin and Felix mostly). 

You went into Chans bathroom to find him already turning on the water, “Wanna shower with me, my love?” 

You were hesitant to reply, remembering the last time you were in that shower together, and how you were punished. 

He could tell you were apprehensive, “It’s just a regular shower, baby. Nothing scary this time, promise.” Chan held out his pinky to you, his eyes crinkling with his endearing grin. When he’s so cute like this, how could you deny him? 

“Ok, Channie,” you looped pinkies with him, then you took off your clothes and joined him in the shower. He didn’t touch you sexually this time, and you were grateful for it. He didn’t think you would be ready for it in this particular shower, anyways. That doesn’t mean you didn’t get a smattering of smooches from him, though. Sometimes he can’t keep his lips to himself, he guessed he was like his pack brothers in that way when it comes to you. 

Once you were cleansed and clothed - in Chans shirt and a pair of shorts, naturally - you padded down into the kitchen for a bottle of water. Jisung was already there, on his phone. 

“Hi love bug.” he greeted you with a kiss. “ I'm ordering pizza, Bin has been complaining that he’s gonna ‘ die of starvation’ if he doesn’t get a supreme asap. What kind do you like?” 

“Hmm, I wouldn’t say no to a hawaiian.” You sipped your drink you got from the fridge. 

“Don’t let Hyung hear you say that.” You felt a hard pinch on your right ass cheek,

“Ow!” 

“He hates pineapple on his pizza” Seungmin snickered, dodging your tiny fist. “My vote is only get hawaiian, really stir the pot in here.” 

“Yeah that's what we need.” Jisung replied sarcastically. “Let’s not piss off the alphas please.” 

“You’re no fun, Hannie” 

“I am fun!” 

At this point you made a swift exit out of the kitchen, staying out of the mini spat. “I swear, they fight like an old married couple.” you murmured. 

“I heard that!” 

“No you didn’t!” You called behind you. 

You ventured into Chan's room to gather his and your laundry, then back down into the laundry room. You hadn’t realized how much it had built up in the last few days, so getting it done was a top priority for you. 

It was about 40 minutes later and you were putting the second load in the washer when you heard a pounding at the door. It wasn’t a gentle knock but more like a rapid banging. You listened for a moment and didn’t hear anyone go to the door so you did. ‘Jeez the delivery man must be in a mood today.’ you thought cynically as you made your way to the entry. 

You now heard harsh whispers coming from the door as you got closer. 

“I told you it was done, Brynn. You can’t come around anymore.” Seungmin, but who was he talking too? 

“You dump me over text and now you won’t even explain why! What kind of bullshit is that? It’s been a week of radio silence from you.” It was a woman's voice, shrill and whiny. 

You could see Seungmins back as he addressed the girl at the door, and you could make out her blonde hair over his shoulder. 

“We weren’t dating. You made it perfectly clear when we started hooking up you didn’t want a relationship. I don’t have to explain shit to you.” He was trying to keep his voice even, as if he really didn’t care. He probably didn’t. “What’s done is done, Brynn. Don’t act like a spoiled child just because you don’t get my dick wet anymore.” 

The woman looked over his shoulder as you came into view, her catty eyes narrowed at you then at him. “Who the fuck is that?” 

Minnie turned his head to catch a glimpse of you, before sighing and pointing away, “Baby go back to the living room with the boys.” 

 “Oh I get it now.”  The woman, Brynn, let her nostrils flare as she zeroed in on you.  “you left me for some omega whore.” 

‘What the fuck did I do?’ 

“You don’t know shit.” He bit back at her, now getting fired up. You stepped closer to him despite his order to leave, now only about a foot away. This girl was starting to piss you off, and you already had enough rage leftover from your altercation this morning. 

“No, I get it now.” She smirked evilly, “Look at the bruises on her legs, you guys are all sharing her huh?” 

“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know anything about our pack.”  He growled at her, glaring daggers. 

“What’s the matter? Mad I got it right? Maybe if you weren’t such a beta loser you could get your own girl, instead of sharing some used up who-” The beta woman didn’t get to finish her sentence before you ducked past Seungmin and slammed your fist right into her left cheek. “AHH what the hell!” she clutched her face as she screamed.  

“Y/N!” Seungmin grabbed your waist pulling you back, he was instantly shocked by your behavior. And maybe a little turned on.  “Don’t, she’s not worth it baby.”

“I’ll show you whos the fucking loser! Don’t you ever speak to him like that again!” You tried to swing your fists again but Minnie had already pulled you too far away. 

“Seungmin control your fucking dog!” She snarled, still clutching her red cheek. 

“Oh my god why is something always happening in this entry way?!” Jisung shrieked as he ran to see what was going on. Chan and Changbin were right behind him. Brynns scream must have alerted them all to trouble.  

“Take her now!” Seungmin tried to hand you off to Chan but you gripped onto the door frame, refusing to let go. 

“No! I’m not done with her!” You were raging, the angriest you had ever been. 

“Omega let go now.” Chan used an alpha command on you, making you release instantly. 

“That’s right, go back to your master.” Brynn sneered. 

“Next time I see you, it’s on sight bitch! Count your days!” You screeched, pointing at her as you were hauled away. 

As you were pulled through the house you could no longer see nor hear the commotion at the door. Chan knew Seungmin would be telling her off and making her leave. “What the fuck was that?” He set you on the couch then crouched to your eye level.  “Did you hit her?” 

You crossed your arms, a snarl still embedded on your face. “If you heard what she was saying you’d wanna hit her too.” 

He sighed, running a hand down his face, “Omega, you-”

“No!” He gave you a hard stare for interrupting him. “Sorry, alpha.” you winced. “ But I couldn’t stand there and let her say that about him! Something came over me and I just had to protect him from her. I have never felt such raw adrenaline before, it’s kinda like I blacked out and before I knew it, my fist was on her face!” 

“I get it baby, you needed to save your minnie from the mean girl.” You nodded. “And I bet you were still feeling the intensity from this morning huh?” 

“Yes, alpha. I’m sorry.” You sighed, trying to let the emotions go but failing miserably. 

“All I’m gonna say is, don’t make it a habit of hitting people. Only warning.” He kissed your head, “But she really did deserve it, that chick sucks.” 

“You should have seen the look on the pizza guys face when he pulled up to Brynns ugly crying face! He looked horrified!” Han held the pizzas in his arms as he passed you on the way to the kitchen. “Also, super hot of you to hit her, baby.” 

Chan groaned and you giggled, “Ji I’m in here actively trying to teach her violence is not ok, we don’t need your encouragement.” 

“Oh lighten up, Hyung. That bitch deserves it.” 

“That’s what I’m saying!” You agreed enthusiastically. 

The alpha threw his hands up exasperated, before standing and stomping to the kitchen. He wouldn’t admit it but it was super hot seeing you all fired up like that. Seungmin and Changbin came in next. Changbin ruffled your hair, “Hey there, good job slugger.” 

“Get off!” you pushed his hand away, laughing. 

Seungmin was next to crouch in front of you, searching your face for any harm. When he found none there his eyes moved down and zeroed in on your hand, that had begun to bruise already from how hard you slammed it into the other woman's face. 

“What the hell were you thinking?” 

“I wasn’t.” You admitted to him, shyness overtaking you under his scrutiny. 

He scoffed, somewhat amused. “Clearly.” He grabbed your bruised hand and ran his thumb gently over the knuckles. When you hissed in discomfort, he brought the skin up to his mouth and gave it a tender kiss. “Next time, let me handle it.” 

“As if,” you muttered with your own scoff. “I won’t let her or anyone else talk to you like that. You’re not her toy to treat like crap. You don’t belong to her.” You spat the last word like it left a bad taste in your mouth, and the beta noticed. 

“Oh omega, is someone feeling a little… possessive over her Minnie, hm? You want me to belong to you instead?” He had his devilish grin on. 

“No!” you protested, “...Maybe. Whatever, it doesn’t matter.” 

He laid you on the couch with a shove, before climbing over you. You gasped and put your hand on his chest, eyes wide. “Don’t you worry about it, baby. As far as I’m concerned I’ve been yours since the spaghetti o’s.” 

“Ugh don’t bring that up again.” you turned your head to avoid his eye contact and he took the opportunity to nip your neck. “Minnie get off!” 

“Yeah get off her! The little savage needs some fuel to keep fighting for her men!” Seungmin was shoved off playfully by Changbin. 

You could hear Chan yell from the kitchen, “No more fighting!” 

“Yes more fighting!” 

“Jisung, enough!” 

“Ok ok, sorry.” 

“Who’s fighting?” Jeongin ran in looking for the commotion. 

“No one is fighting, Innie.” You replied, sitting up. 

“Yeah, not anymore. You missed Baby smack the shit outta Brynn.” Changbin said eating a slice. 

“Baby hit Brynn? No way she sucks!” Hyunjin entered now, trailed by a sleepy Felix. 

The younger beta gave you a look of pure surprise, “For real, you actually hit her?” 

“Uhh yeah, I did.” You felt sheepish now that they all knew. 

“Wow. Our precious baby is showing us she’s not all bark and no bite huh?”  he blinked away his shock, him too entering the kitchen. 

Suddenly, a roar was heard from the head Alpha, 

“Why does every pizza have pineapple?! Jisung?!” 

“Oops!”

Lunch was filled with them all poking fun and teasing you for your altercation. Most praised you (making your brain short circuit) and told you how insanely hot they found it. One beta in particular couldn’t stop letting his imagination wander. He decided right then that he would give you a reward instead of punishing your behavior. 

When you had all eaten you meandered back to your self appointed chore, telling them all to bring their laundry bins down and you would begin taking care of it. While you were folding some of the done pile, a figure came up behind you. 

You shivered when he brushed your hair away from the side of your neck, and he placed the other hand on your hip under your shirt. “When you’re done here, come up to my room, omega.”

Seungmin’s voice was gravely as he lowered it to a whisper. He laid a light kiss to the skin of your neck, and you whimpered, nodding your head in agreement. “Mm, good girl.” 

His hand traveled down to your butt, giving the cheek a single squeeze before he pulled away from you completely, and exited the room as if he was never even there.

You felt your breath return to you once he was gone, only now realizing you were holding it in the first place. With shaky hands you continued, wondering how the hell you were supposed to get anything done after that. 

In actuality you managed to get another load in the dryer and finished folding the one you were working on within about an hour. You set the basket of folded clothes in Chans room, not expecting to see him chilling on his bed, playing on his phone. He smiled when you walked in, setting his phone down. “Hey baby, are you gonna come snuggle with me?” he held his hand out for you. 

“Umm,” you grabbed his hand but didn’t sit. “Minnie kinda asked me to go to his room already..” 

“Oh, I see.” He smirked cheekily, “Well before you go take one of these,” he reached over and handed you a little packet of pills. “Bin picked up your birth control prescription yesterday. Make sure you take it every day .” you nodded before popping one out and sticking it in your mouth. He handed you some water to wash it down. “Now don’t let me keep you then, my love.” he let go of you and sent you off. 

You left the room, and went to the door you knew led to Seungmins room. You steeled your nerves before timidly knocking on his door. You heard a faint “Come in, baby.” so you opened the door and entered his space. You hadn’t been in his room yet, you weren’t expecting it to be so colorful. He had a few hanging plants draping down from his ceiling. The back wall was dark green, and the rest were off white, making the room look larger. Shelves lined the walls that were filled with books. 

You closed the door behind you, and were hit with the encompassing scent of him. The smell was delicate like a thunderstorm. “Hi Minnie.” You twiddled with your thumbs, unable to meet his gaze. 

He chuckled, “ Hey Omega. Won’t you come here?” He was sitting at the mahogany desk in the corner where he beckoned you to him. You shuffled your feet until you came to stand right in front of him. “There she is, my girl.” You preened at his sentiment, the omega inside begging to hear him say it again. “You like that? You like it when I call you mine?” He yanked you into his lap, letting you feel how hard he already was under you. 

He leaned you back into him as he cradled your jaw, tilting your head and giving you little licks into the skin there. “Y-yes Minnie.” 

“Oh I know you do, baby. Here in this room, you belong to me. You’re my girl alone when you're in these four walls, do you understand?” He knew he was laying it on thick but he needed to train you early. He nipped at your skin roughly. 

“Mhm I understand Minnie.” you were whimpering, melting into his hold. He could see your nipples harden under your shirt, pleased you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. 

“Go lay on my bed for me, and take your clothes off.” 

You scrambled off of him when you register what he says, literally flinging your shirt off and tripping lightly when you pull your shorts down. He held back a snort, opting to bite his lip instead. You turn around to face him before you pull off your panties, giving him a full view of your breasts. You tried to keep eye contact with him as you unhurriedly pulled your panties down and let them drop to the floor.

If anything was true about Seungmin; it’s that he was very good at keeping his composure. On the outside he appeared calm and collected as he watched the sexiest creature he had ever seen settle herself on his bed. But on the inside; he was losing his mind. All he wanted was to ravish you, tear you apart and put you back together again. He had let the tension with you rise for days in anticipation for this moment, and he felt like a dog with a bone. More like a puppy. 

The quilt on his bed was a mauve shade and had diamond shapes stitched into it. It was soft on your skin as you laid upon it, helping quell the fluttering in your stomach. You clutched it as Seungmins' predatory stare raked over your form. From your position on his bed he could see the glistening between your legs and his mouth began to water. 

You noticed where his gaze was pointed and it made you feel kind of dirty, the way he had his fixed stare on your most intimate parts had you subconsciously rubbing your thighs together as you released a scent thick with arousal. 

“Look at you, dripping and writhing when I haven’t even touched you yet.” He stood from his place on the chair across the room, palming his bulge through his sweats. “ What am I gonna do with you, pretty girl?” He tore his shirt off, taking a step towards you. “Should I stretch you out on my fingers?” Another step. “Should I eat your pussy till you cry?” Now he was at the foot of the bed. “Or maybe I should make you cum on my cock till you pass out?”  

That had you absolutely panting, eyes blown at the suggestion and your thighs clenching. The arousal was coming out in thick drips and drenching the intricate quilt below you. It would surely take months to get the scent out. Not that he would want to. 

“Option 3? If you ask nicely, maybe I’ll give you what you want.” He licked his lips, itching to grab you but wanting to hear you beg for it. He wasn’t going to touch you otherwise. 

“Please, Minnie.” You whined softly, feeling modest, your face heating up. 

“Is that all you got?” He scoffed and took half a step back. “You must not really want it that bad.” 

“I do, Minnie I want it!” 

“You want it? You want my cock?” His eyes narrowed at you as he smirked. 

You nodded rapidly, “Uh huh.” 

“Then beg me for it, omega.” 

You attempted to take a staggering breath as your lip trembled. 

“Minnie, my Minnie, please, please have mercy on me, and fuck me. Please, Seungmin.” 

A rumble came from him as he pounced on you. He slipped his pants off hastily as he crashed his mouth to yours. His tongue invaded your mouth and his hand groped your chest, the combination being staggering for you. You moaned when he gave your nipple a firm pinch. His pelvis pushed back into you when yours bucked up looking for friction. 

“You really are a needy little thing, rutting into me like a horny little puppy.” He was condescending with his words, mouthing at your lips with cruel nips. “What happened to that feisty omega that took on the world today, huh? Where’d the snappy guard dog go?” He licked your bottom lip messily. “Show me how bad you want it, puppy.” 

You animatedly thrusted up into him, grinding on his clothed member. He could feel the slick coming off of you and soaking into his boxers. 

“Awe you’re so wet omega. Can feel you practically water logging my dick through my boxers.” He grunted, shuddering when you bucked again. 

You were quickly falling deeper into subspace, surrendering yourself to him completely. His dominant aura and attitude was sending you spiraling into the abyss. “Mhmm, wet for my Minnie. Wan’ you to fuck me.” 

Seungmin lowered his head to suck on the opposite nipple than the one he was pinching, nibbling on the hardened bud. 

“I’ll fuck you, puppy. Give you what you need.” He sucked harder, and your hand shot to his hair. “But first you gotta  give me what I need. Make yourself cum, wanna see the look on your face when you rut on me so hard you cum.” 

“B-but I..” You whined, “I don’t know if I can.” 

He quickly slipped a hand down between where your bodies met and gave a slap to your core. You wailed at the sharp pain. “I’ve told you before, I don’t care if you can, the fact is you will.” He smacked again. “Get to it.” 

Seungmin slotted his thigh between your legs to give you more friction. You thrusted up into him again and hooked your thigh over his hips, grinding harshly into him. The fabric of his underwear over his member caught on your clit. Your head fell back into his pillows and you moaned. You repeated that motion over and over again, being so turned on you were actually getting off in it  

“Seung, s-so good.” 

He returned your rutting with one of his own, making you cry out as the knot in your stomach was building. 

“Minnie, I think m’ gonna, gonna…”

“Go ahead, my obedient little pup, let go for me. Make a mess.” 

With his permission you felt your orgasm take over, making you shake with pleasure. “Unngghh” Your ‘o’ face was even better than he imagined, eyes shut tight and drool coating your lips as you moaned. It was the both most gratifying and beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

He barely let you finish your shaking before he had you suddenly flipped over so you were on your stomach. You let out a gasp in surprise. Seungmin leaned back on his heels and yanked you up by your hips, until you were on your hands and knees presenting for him. He admired the way your pussy spasmed from your leftover orgasm and he swiped a finger through your juices, swirling it around before he shoved the finger inside. You squirmed as you whimpered again. He hummed in appreciation, “ I love the noises you make for me, omega. Let’s see how loud you can get.” 

You heard a crinkling sound behind you, so you turned your head around to the sight of him rolling a condom down his length. He had abandoned his underwear at some point and you hadn’t even noticed. When it was rolled on completely he took his cock and rubbed it through your folds, not yet pushing in. His lithe hand ran over your shoulders, barely touching as it trailed down your spine. 

Seungmin laid a harsh smack to your ass cheek when he got to the bottom of your back “ow, minnie!” He didn’t respond, choosing to snicker in amusement when your flesh ripped from his treatment. He entered the tip into your dripping hole, giving a moan at the squelch that emitted. 

He let go of his cock go and opted for giving your ass cheeks a punishing grip on each side, spreading you open for him to get an even better view of your pussy and the other little pink hole that you hide from him. You let your head fall in embarrassment when he seemed to take his time gazing directly at your most intimate hole. Seungmin let his saliva accumulate in his mouth before he leaned close and stuck out his tongue, the spit he collected falling off the tip onto your puckered flesh. 

You shivered when you felt it hit you, eyes wide with slight terror at the prospect of him penetrating your ass. He could sense your fear and chuckled with his signature evilness. “Don’t worry, Puppy. Minnie’s not gonna fuck your ass… today.” your sigh of relief was cut off when his thumb swirled around in his own spit, not pushing in but definitely testing the waters. “Doesn’t mean I can’t play with it a little bit, though.” 

All at once he pushed his length into you completely and also his thumb entered just slightly. Even the tip of this thumb was a stretch for you. The sensations made your back arch and a loud howl break from your parted lips. You had only moments to adjust to him, as he gave your ass another sharp smack and began his thrusting into you from behind. 

Desperate cries were falling from you and Seungmin snuck his hand back up your spine until he found purchase at the base of your neck. He squeezed the skin there and used the grip he had to tilt your head up to face the ceiling, wanting your moans to be projected out. “Let em’ hear it, baby. Let the pack hear who’s making you bark like this.” 

His jarring words made another bout of slick build up and drip out around his cock. The wet, sloppy sounds were resonating off the four walls, making it seem louder with the constant echoes. 

“Mm, I’ll never get enough of this pussy drenching me. Wettest I’ve ever seen, fuck.” He squeezed your neck a little harder, making you choke on your moans. “God damn you look so good with my hand around your neck. Maybe I should get you a collar, make you wear it around like I’m always there giving my girl a good squeeze. My puppy can wear my initials on her pretty neck.” 

“Minnie, please oh my god.” You rasped out between cries, feeling your second orgasm starting to build within you. You clenched particularly hard on him when he pushed the thumb just a touch further into you, stretching your previously untouched cavity. 

“Fuck, omega. Clenching down on me so fucking tight. Gonna make me cum.” 

You whimpered, “Wan you too, wan you to cum please Minnie.” You were begging, tears steadily streaming down your face now, just inches away from cumming yourself. “Wanna cum too, please, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely, make a mess for me, pup. Cum.”

Your eyes rolled into your head as you wailed, toes curling and spurts of slick shooting out from around him. Feeling how hard you clamped down on his dick made Seungmin not be able to hold back any longer. He spewed curses and deep growls as he came, filling the condom with his thick essence. His mouth was salivating and he gave into his urges, leaning up to your shoulder and chomping his teeth down into the flesh just above Felix's bite. Your blood filled his mouth as he bit, and you cried louder than you had the whole time he’d been fucking you. The beta let go of your skin and licked his lips, pupils blown wide.

You were quaking when he removed his thumb from you, giving you a few minor thrusts as he let go of your neck. Seungmin gave you a few tender kisses on your back, trying to bring you back down to earth. 

When the beta pulled out of you, you felt your legs give out and your face planted into his bed with a groan. He gave a chuckle at how cute you were directly after being fucked. You were floating, drifting in hyperspace you didn’t notice when he laid down next to you after disposing of the condom. This is why he toyed with you for days, knowing the buildup would make it all the more intense for you. 

He lifted you to be directly on top of him and he wiped the drool from your lips. “Not done yet, omega. Need you to bite me now.” He pet your hair and hauled you closer, basically shoving your face into his shoulder. “Give it to me, let everyone know I’m taken by you, baby.” 

You did as you were told, almost on instinct, bearing your teeth and digging them into his flesh. He groaned huskily, eyes snapping shut when he felt the pressure. 

“Thata girl.” He held you close to him as you lapped at the wound you made on him, feeling more intimate than anything else you had done with him previously. Now you were positive he loved you, he doesn’t seem like the type that would go around receiving bites for just anyone. 

When you had diligently licked it clean you pulled away from the skin, tilting your head up the best you could to look at him. His pupils were still blown out, making his eyes look almost completely black. His hair had fallen into his face and the sweat had made it stick to his skin. He was panting as if he had just ran a marathon, a deep flush in his cheeks. In all honesty he looked positively immoral.  

You didn’t look any better, you could bet you looked how you felt; exhausted. Exhausted from all the adrenaline of the day and from all the orgasms that had been pulled from you today. 

“You did so well fo’ me, baby.” He managed to say when he caught his breath.He pet the side of your head and wiped the blood off your mouth.

“I did?” You mumbled, coming out of your trance-like state. 

“Mmm, the best. Listened so good to your Minnie. Made me really proud of you.” He gave you a tender kiss. You sunk into him, purring in delight at his praise. You pulled away first, feeling the fatigue you rested your head down on his chest. “You can’t fall asleep yet, we gotta get you cleaned up first.” 

You pouted but still let him scoot out from under you and pick you up in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom to begin wiping you down and cleaning your newest bite mark. Afterwards he carried you back to his bed, and dressed you in one of his t-shirts. It’s about time you paraded around in his clothes too. 

It was only mid day, but he let you rest under his covers and laid down with you as he turned on a show on his laptop. You snuggled into him and immediately felt at peace. 

You were able to murmer one last thing before you fell asleep, “Love you minnie.” then you passed out, letting sleep take over. 

When you woke up, the sky outside the window had darkened to a deep orange. For a moment you laid there, eyes half open as you came to your senses. You could tell that you were still in Seungmin's room, and that he was laid next to you. You heard the faint voices coming from the laptop on his lap and his almost silent snorts when something was particularly funny on his show.

“Wha’ time is it?” you mumbled, turning your body around to face him. 

“Hmm? Not that late,” He looked to you then to his phone, “ it’s almost 6:30. You’ve been asleep for about four hours.” 

“Four hours?” You started to panic, worried about the chores you were doing. You sluggishly went to get up but he put an arm over you, preventing  you from moving. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“V’ gotta finish the clothes. Don’t wan’ anyone to be mad at me.” your voice was still heavy with sleep. 

He had the most unbelieveing look on his face, “I just fucked you within an inch of your life, and you’re worried about the laundry?” 

“Don’t say it like that!” you tried to pout. 

He broke out into a laugh at how cute you were, “Pup, no one is going to be mad at you right now. You finished enough today, you’re allowed to take it easy. There are no more obligations tonight, you’re in the clear to stay here with me tonight. If you want to.” 

“I do, but Channies not upset?” 

“No, omega. I already checked in with him. We’re all good.” He kissed your cheek, smiling when you giggled. “You should eat, does leftover pizza sound ok?” 

You thought for a moment, then nodded thankfully. “Mmhmm, sounds great.” He kissed you again then he scooted off his bed, and went down to grab food for you both. When he brought it back up you both sat up and ate together. He occasionally poked fun at you and you did it back to him. A playful, easy night was exactly what you needed. He may not have said the words ‘i love you’ but he showed it in his own ways. You felt it in how he played with you, and took care of you when you needed it. 

A/N: my apologies to anyone named Brynn, and also apologies for the pack tension or lee know stans.

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!

Beta read by my wonderful bumble bee @ayejaii <3

©doitforbangchan

Taglist- closed

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i’m sorry if your tag isn’t working :( i’m trying my best

[paper-mario-wiki]

it's hard to appreciate the frigid snowfields of the Tabantha region when you haven't had a proper night's sleep in a month. your sleep cycle tends to unravel in the Abyss. many would tell you it's because the place seems designed to kill you, flora and fauna alike. what bugs me more than that is the creeping awareness that the sun will not come out, no matter how long i wait there.

many explorers prefer not to stay more than 3 days underground, though this time i spent 30. i'm more of an adventurer than a researcher so perhaps i was better equipped to take this trek than them, though i didnt intend for it to be that way. sometimes you lose the reigns over your own journey. at times there would be opportunities to leave when i had every incentive to keep pushing forward. very rarely did those opportunities come when i needed them the most.

my last moments in the underground were spent fleeing from a something gigantic that i could not see. as soon as i could hear the sound of the freezing cold wind above only a few layers of stone and soil, i started clawing through fistfuls of dirt until i emerged to a grey, snowy sky near the top of a mountain. Mount Drena i think. i'll ask a local as soon as i get to a lodge. i'm looking forward to a proper bed of course, but more than that i'm looking forward to a warm bath. my body, as it tends to go on my expeditions, is currently sustaining itself through adrenaline. even still my muscles are aching. i still have dirt under my fingernails from all the digging too.

arriving at the stable, i'm greeted by the clerk who saw me off when i began my trek through the underground a month ago, who tells me he's relieved to see me return in one piece. the look on his face when i collapsed onto one of the spare beds after setting down my backpack told me he meant that sincerely.

taking off my chest plate and chainmail gaiters, my coat, my protective chest padding, my undergarments, underpants, shoes, socks, and finally the hair tie that kept my vision clear, felt like emerging out of a cocoon. or maybe shedding my skin like a snake. my body breathes in the fresh air as if i needed every pore to fill my lungs. dipping into the hot water made every ache and pain i'd earned during my time underground scream all at once, only to get quieter, and quieter, and quieter, until it turned into a tranquil numb tingling. clean water, piping hot, doesn't seem like a luxury until it is kept from you. the underground had lakes, but the water stank like rainwater from the bottom of a vase left outside.

maybe next in my travels i'll spend some time in Eldin. the hotsprings are the first things people i've met on the road tell me about whenever it's brought up. i let my mind sink into that idea as i crawled into the wool covers of the bed i bought for the night. even with the stable being as rural as it was, i was lucky enough to get a privacy curtain. i appreciate this, because i'd prefer not to wear anything to bed. although it's still freezing cold just outside the lodge's door, i won't deprive even an inch of myself from the fresh air tonight. the delicious, fresh air.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

My Angel

Sam and Dean & teen!reader, Castiel & teen!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you’re a daughter figure to team free will, and you have time/location travel powers. One time you accidentally time travel back too far, and you have to face TFW before they met you.

Warnings: panic attack, then pretty much fluff

“Hey Sam?” You knocked on Sam’s door softly—no answer. You slowly pressed the door open, peaking in and seeing Sam fast asleep on his bed. You took a step back, pulling the door closed as silently as possible; you’d wanted his help to study for your test, but he hadn’t been sleeping much lately while he dealt with all the hunters now living in the bunker, so you wanted to let him sleep.

Next stop was Dean—but he was out on a hunt with Mary. Finally, you wandered around looking for Cas. You found him in the library poring over lore.

“Cas?” You approached him hesitantly, a notebook hugged to your chest. “Do you think you could—“

“Not now, Y/N,” Cas huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I need to finish this.”

“Oh.” You bit your lip. “Do you think maybe later you could—“

“Not now!” He snapped. “I’m a little busy trying to keep your brother from dying!”

You snapped your mouth shut, turning on your heel and leaving without another word.

“No, wait…” Cas’s regret came a split second too late. “I’m sorry!”

…

You clicked the lock shut on your room door, tossing your notebook on your desk before dropping down on your bed.

“Calm down calm down calm down,” you whispered to yourself over and over, rubbing your face and a few stray tears. The pile of homework on your desk already had you panicked, and you hadn’t been prepared for Cas to yell at you like that. Not only that, but on top of the homework you had a huge test, and you knew you weren’t ready.

Your handle on your emotions had been slipping lately due to all the stress, and with that came a lack of control on your powers. That had led to a lot more “incidents” lately—usually you’d just get transported to a few minutes in the past, or a mile or two away, but you were always scared that if your emotions got big enough, there would be bigger jumps.

“Stop it,” you willed your pounding heart to no avail. Your breath was coming in quicker and quicker gasps, and it was all you could do to sit up and try to keep the room from spinning. “It’s ok, you’re fine you’re fine you’re fine…”

You closed your eyes tightly as the panic took over and your head started to pound—a sure sign that you were traveling.

“No no no,” you whimpered. “Not now, just stop, just stop!”

The pain grew and your breath still hadn’t returned. You opened your eyes, but everything was still spinning, and black spots were flying around the edges of your vision. You tried to stand, but something sharp smacked against your head. The darkness spread, faster and faster and—

And nothing.

…

“What the heck?”

A man’s voice was the first thing you heard as you tried to force your eyes open through the pain that pounded behind them.

“Sam! Dean! Get in here!”

You groaned, blinking your blurry vision away. Dark wood lined the floor, and as you forced yourself to sit up, a room came into focus—an old couch slumped in the corner, an oak desk sat right next to you. An old man was crouched in front of you, a gun in his hand—

“Bobby?” You breathed. You’d seen the man in pictures before, but you’d never met him.

The gun twitched.

“How do you know who I am?” Bobby demanded.

“What’s going on?” Dean’s voice caught your attention—he rushed through the doorway, followed by Sam, and both froze at the sight of you. “Who the heck is that?”

The boys were younger than you’d ever seen them, by a few years at least, and you knew from what they’d told you about Bobby’s death that you must have gone back at least six or seven years—long before you’d met the boys.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Bobby insisted, cocking the gun in his hand. “And I’d better find out in the next five seconds.”

“Ok ok wait!” You insisted, holding up your hands. Your head was pounding—you’d probably hit it on the desk when you traveled, and you could swear that you felt blood running down the side of your face. “I’m…I’m from the future.”

Three blank stares.

“Right,” Bobby scoffed. “And I’m Bill Clinton.”

“It’s true!” You insisted. “I-I have powers, but I jumped back too far.”

“Do you expect us to believe—“

“It’s true.” Dean’s protest was cut off with a flutter of wings and the deep voice of Castiel. “She’s telling the truth, she’s from the future. I can sense it.”

“So what, she can just jump around time and—“

“No,” Castiel insisted. “No, no one should have that power.” His eyes flashed blue. “I need to take care of this problem.” He took one step forwards, but Dean jumped over to block him.

“Whoa whoa, hey, easy,” Dean insisted. “She’s just a kid, what are you gonna do?”

“She shouldn’t exist,” Castiel argued. “She’s dangerous.”

“Cas?” You whimpered, backing away from him.

“How do you know me?” Cas demanded, stiffening.

“We…you…” you swallowed. “We met…or, I guess, we will meet…in a few years. You try to help me control my powers. All three of you do.”

“Three?” Bobby asked, but you kept your mouth shut.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Castiel continued. “I would’ve killed you—I should’ve—you’re dangerous.”

“And-and you’re a lot different here than you are in the future.” Your lip quivered as you spoke, still keeping as much distance from Cas as you could. He wasn’t the gentle, caring Cas that you knew—he truly looked like the dangerous angel you knew he could be.

“What are we gonna do with her?” Sam spoke up. “Shouldn’t she go back to her own time?”

“I still don’t think she should be in any time,” Cas argued, his hand twitching—probably for his angel blade.

“Please.” A tear dripped onto your hand, and you wrapped your arms around yourself—despite the familiar faces, you felt surrounded by strangers. “Please, I-I just want to go home. I didn’t mean to come here, I didn’t mean to—“ you noticed Castiel’s hand relaxing slightly, and you took a deep breath. “Cas, you…in the future, you’re like a father to me. And I just want to get back to my Cas, I just…please help me get home.”

Cas took another step forward, and Dean didn’t stop him. You flinched when Cas lifted his hand, but he just placed it gently on your shoulder.

“I…I think maybe I can get you home,” Cas said slowly. “But you need to be more careful. If you jump like this again, you could disrupt the flow of time.”

You nodded. “I understand.”

“Ok.” Cas’s eyes softened. “Then let’s get you home.” He pressed two fingers to your forehead. There was a faint pulse of blue before your world went dark.

…

“Y/N? Y/N!”

You jerked upright to the sound of a harsh knock at your door. You blinked hard, rubbing your eyes, then your face—the cut on your head was healed.

You got to unsteady feet before unlocking your door and swinging it open to see Cas, looking frazzled and worried.

“Cas!” Cas staggered back in surprise when you through yourself into his arms.

“Are you ok?” He demanded, holding you close.

“I missed this you.” Your voice came out muffled against Cas’s trench coat.

“I…you what?” Cas asked.

“Never mind.” You sniffled, pulling away. “I’m just glad to see you.”

“N/N, I’m sorry,” Cas insisted. “I-I didn’t mean to yell at you earlier, I just…I guess I was feeling stressed.”

“It’s ok,” you insisted.

“No it wasn’t,” Cas argued. “I’m here for you, for whatever you need.”

“I think maybe school needs to take a back burner,” you said slowly. “Can you help me…with my powers?”

“I did say whatever.” Cas smiled. “So let’s get started.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely

[ayyy-pee]

𝔼ℙ𝕀𝕊𝕆𝔻𝔼 𝟚 - 𝕀ℕ𝕋ℝ𝕆𝔻𝕌ℂ𝕋𝕀𝕆ℕ𝕊 ℙ𝕋. 𝕋𝕎𝕆

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Last Episode - Masterlist

Pairing: JJK Men x Female Reader

Episode Summary: Introductions continue! Which one of these contestants will be the first to make an impression on your heart?

STORY TWIST: READERS WILL VOTE AFTER CERTAIN CHAPTERS TO CHOOSE WHO GETS A ROSE AND MAKES IT TO THE NEXT WEEK. KEEP A LOOKOUT FOR THE VOTING LINK AT THE END OF CHAPTERS

Story Warning: DRAMA, lying and scheming, REVERSE HAREM, profanity bc I can only be me, arguments, fights probably, heartbreak and tears, (more to come)

Artist Credit: momoya348, Umbra3terna, ilameys,maoyaoyao519, _0_0219, maron.jp Divider Credit: Cafekitsune (Tumblr)

A/N: sorry for the wait yall! i'd give you an excuse but i know yall don't care LMFAO. enjoy!!!

The ground is actually shaking as the King of Curses approaches you step by step. Suddenly, you feel a lot like the chauffeur from just a few moments before. Terrified, trembling and sweaty. He was smart, now that you think about it. Hell, you’d have run too if you could! Sukuna’s aura is so heavy, so scary, so damn intense you feel like you may vomit. You’re hoping the camera doesn’t catch the sweat that you can feel beginning to seep from your pores. Every step closer to you, you swear shaves half a year off of your life. And when he’s right in front of you, his four eyes landing on you, so full of disinterest and maybe a little disdain, you pray you don’t piss yourself on live television.

It’s only then that you begin to realize how incredibly massive this man…curse…is. You have to crane your neck, struggling to peer up at his enormous form. He folds his (again…FOUR?!) arms over his chest and frowns, deep and unsatisfied.

“They should teach you some manners, woman,” he grunts. His deep and gravelly voice sends a chill traveling straight up your spine, and you straighten up, causing Sukuna’s lips to curl down in further dissatisfaction. “You hold your head too high,” he speaks.

You raise a brow, and it must be the adrenaline coursing through your veins, because like an absolute idiot, you open your mouth and dumbly mutter, “How? You’re like ten feet tall.”

You could hear a pin drop, hear the way every single crew member inhales and doesn’t dare exhale that breath. You know the cameramen should probably pan over to catch what’s next, but they have more sense than you clearly, because they don’t deign to move an inch. It’s complete silence in the driveway as Sukuna’s gaze pierces yours.

This may be the end for you. And honestly? You’d be okay with that. Sad, sure, but you’ve lived a decent life. Aside from this very brief experience, it was nothing special. But it was comfortable, full of good times. If it’s meant to end here, you don’t think you’d be too upset about it. You just hope that they’ll do you the favor of censoring your probably gory and untimely demise.

Sukuna lifts an arm (one out of four…oh my God, will you ever get over that?), and you squeeze your eyes shut tightly.

‘Here it comes’, you think. The finishing blow. One shot from him and you’ll be wiped from this earth, a smudge on this world’s history. You’ll be forgotten shortly after your end and the world will move on without you.

You blame Utahime for this, because again, if you hadn’t listened to her drunk ass you would be sitting behind a desk doing paperwork. Not on the verge of death before the most powerful being of all time.

But after several seconds, you realize you’ve felt no pain, heard no screams or cries. But instead, a sound of something akin to a chuckle. You open one eye, peeking up to see Sukuna’s large hand come down to pat the top of your head. Gently, at that.

“Funny. I suppose I won’t kill you and your entourage.”

His eyes roam the landscape behind you and the confusion is clear on his face. You suppose it would be rather confusing for an ancient curse to see all the lights, large buildings and technology of today.

“What is this–” he waves a hand in the air. “This place? Why did you all bring me here?”

Now you’re confused. Didn’t he sign up for the show himself?

Satoru throws his head back, cackles hysterically. “I just thought it’d be fun!” A wide grin sits on his features as he leans back in his seat casually, as relaxed as ever. “Just imagine the strongest modern day Sorcerer alive and the strongest curse in history competing for love of all things.” He sighs, wiping at his eyes as he comes down from his laughter. “Fucking hilarious.”

He’s quiet for a second, then he doubles over, arms wrapping around his core as he succumbs to another fit of giggles. Suddenly, his laughter dies, then he’s throwing his head back in a groan this time. “Dammit. If he goes on a killing rampage, then I’ll have to work!” 

BACK OUTSIDE…

“It’s…The Bachelorette,” you answer Sukuna’s question, your fear slowly dissipating as your casual conversation continues on. Which may be a stupid move on your end. You should keep your guard up. This is the King of Curses in front of you, after all. From what you know, he loves to make someone feel safe only to literally crush them a moment later. 

But also, this is the damn King of Curses in front of you. If he deems it so, your death is already guaranteed. You couldn’t do shit if you had to face a normal curse let alone the strongest among them. 

The cameraman has finally panned around to capture your interaction and Sukuna doesn’t seem the least bit impressed. His expression is flat, very obviously bored. “The what?”

“The Bachelorette,” you repeat and when he fixes you with a deadpan stare, you elaborate further for some reason. “It’s a dating show. Jujutsu Sorcerers compete for the heart of one Bachelorette –” you point to yourself. “Me,” Sukuna frowns further and you match his expression with a frown of your own. “And– alright, don’t look so upset about it.”

‘The nerve of this guy!’

“Why would anyone waste time on this? Finding…love.” Sukuna spits the word out like it’s bitter before he laughs.

“A pointless venture,” Sukuna grumbles, picking at the paint on one of his many nails. Unfortunately, Sukuna’s size was severely underestimated, which is why the camera is only able to fit his torso into the screen. 

Behind the lens, the director asks shakily, “You don’t believe in love?”

“How would love benefit me? It’s for the weak.” He pauses, his scowl deepening as he folds his arms together. “I should actually kill you for asking me such an imbecilic question.”

BACK OUTSIDE…

“I won’t kill you since this pathetic endeavor you’re on for love will likely be punishment enough for someone like you.” He grins, the venom in his words clear as he speaks. He’s referring to you being a Window — weak, useless, undeserving of love and probably life to someone like him. Sukuna strokes his chin in amusement, eyes roaming along your form. “It will surely be entertaining to watch.”

He looks you over once more, and the fear that returns, rushing through your body makes you dizzy. You feel like you’re on the menu. One wrong move and Sukuna will be having you for dinner…and not in a sexy way.

But instead of acting on whatever temptation he may have, Sukuna simply…vanishes. Though you’re sure he took off and is just way too damn fast for your weak Window eyes to see. Either way, when you’re sure Sukuna is gone, you - and the entire crew - breathe a collective sigh of relief.

“Should we bring in the next contestant?” One of the staff asks nervously and you stare straight into the camera.

“I think I need a break,” you squeak.

Because you’re about ten seconds from shitting yourself.

- - - - - -

The next contestant pulls up shortly after returning from commercial break. You’re back in position at the end of the long red carpet as you wait for him. He exits his limousine quickly, like he’s got somewhere more important to be. And you’re not sure if this show is the important matter at hand.

He’s incredibly handsome, dressed in a nice suit that he adjusts as he makes his way towards you, face set in a serious expression. His deep brown eyes gaze down lifelessly past his large nose as he approaches and you suddenly feel as if you’re under a microscope, just waiting to be picked apart. There’s something unsettling about this man, something that’s putting you on edge. 

Is it normal to feel like someone is taking note of every small movement you make, every involuntary facial tic, even the look in your eyes and filing it away to use against you later? That’s what you feel this man is doing. Just collecting little things about you to throw into your face somewhere down the line.

His glossy black shoes seem to glide along the red carpet and the cameramen must also notice, because the lenses point right to his feet as he goes. He moves so quickly, you hardly have time to breathe before he’s standing before you. And now, you feel your nerves ignite. Suddenly, you feel you should watch what you say, because you can’t help but feel as though you’re on trial for something. And it makes sense because he opens his pretty lips to speak and his words immediately catch you off guard.

“Have you ever been convicted of a misdemeanor or a felony?”

“Um…” Your eyes dart to the camera, brows pulling together in confusion as you chuckle nervously. “No?”

But it’s clear he’s not joking, not a trace of humor in his face as the question hangs between the two of you. The man narrows his eyes, his tiny pupils becoming even smaller if at all possible. “And you’re telling the truth?”

You chuckle awkwardly, your mind screaming “what the actual fuck” on loop. “Ah– What happened to hello? How are you? My name is…”

“I know your name,” he cuts you off. Then he spends the next minute listing off facts about you. He says your name aloud, the sound of it on his tongue sending chills racing up your spine. He lists off your age, occupation, even your friends and their occupations. It’s all a matter of fact, because they are fact. He doesn’t get a single thing wrong.

You think this man is abrasive. Maybe a little scary. And definitely weird.

Weirdly sexy?

Something is so very off with this man, that much is apparent by the exhaustion in his eyes, the way he fidgets with his fingers even while they’re confined in his pockets. But something may be so very off with you as well because you’re finding this mini interrogation of his oddly arousing.

‘Oh my God, can you focus?!’

“And what’s your name?” You finally counter, blinking your filthy thoughts away.

“Higuruma Hiromi,” he states without a beat. His tone is clipped, his eyes assessing you curiously.

“I suppose I will take your word for it.” He nods, and you fix him with a look of confusion. He waves his hand in the air. “Your criminal record. I’ll accept you saying you’re not a convict of some sort.”

“Ah,” you nod. “Well, glad you decided to trust me,” you smile shyly, and Higuruma frowns.

“I didn’t. Judgeman did.” He gestures behind him, and your eyes follow the path to where an enormous, terrifying blob floats in the air. You’re not sure how you missed that. 

‘Probably because you were too busy undressing Hiromi with your eyes?’

You clear your throat, glancing up at Higuruma. The stitch-eyed curse behind him simply sits there, staring into space. “Seeing as there’s no cursed technique for me to confiscate from you, it’s safe to assume you’re of no actual threat here. And also unlikely that you’ve committed gross atrocities given you are currently starring in this television dating show. I would imagine they would complete a thorough background check on you.” 

Now you frown. “Are you saying that I’m boring?”

Higuruma shakes his head, the tiniest of smirks sitting at the corners of his mouth. “On the contrary. The fact that you’re so normal…it actually makes you all the more endearing.” Your heart rate picks up, his honesty and compliment(?) making you the slightest bit flustered.

He sighs, tilting his head back to look up to the night sky. Like he’s reminiscing about something. “I only recently came to be a part of this world, the Jujutsu world, and I miss my old shitty life sometimes.”

The sudden deep confession surprises you. You expected this way later down the road given how closed off he was just moments before. It seems a flip has switched now that he knows you’re not some crook out to commit heinous crimes. You’re grateful for it, as well.

You can relate to Hiromi a bit. You also had no reason to be a part of the Jujutsu world, and yet you’ve found yourself smack dab in the middle of it as you chase after love with some of the most powerful Sorcerers you’ve ever laid eyes on. These are men you would have never crossed paths with in your daily life. And now, they will be fighting (hopefully not literally) each other to have you in the end. 

“Well, I know this experience is so far from normal, but I appreciate you coming, anyway.” You bow slightly in his curse’s direction. “And thank you, Judgeman, for proving to Hiromi that I’m not a convicted felon,” you tack on jokingly.

This is apparently what was needed to break just the tiniest bit through Higuruma’s walls because the corners of his lips curl up just a bit more as he peers down at you. He mutters your name once more, reaching a hand out to take yours. “I’m beginning to think it wasn’t a mistake to come here. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

He takes his leave shortly after, and the director calls for another commercial break. You take this time to head to your trailer offset for a quick touchup on your makeup. As you sit in your makeup chair, you wonder how the guys are doing…

INSIDE THE MANSION

Satoru groans obnoxiously from his side of the couch, beside Nanami. “Is anyone else going to show up? I’m so bored!”

“You could always leave and go back to your actual job,” Nanami quips. “I’m sure The Strongest is needed literally anywhere else but here.”

Satoru puts a hand to his chest dramatically, mouth falling open with a gasp. “You are so mean to me, Nanami.” He grins, nudging Nanami with his shoulder. “You trying to get rid of the competition already?”

He’s met with silence from the blonde, who simply folds his arms and closes his eyes, choosing to ignore his senior.

“You’re hardly any competition,” Suguru snorts on the other side of Nanami.

“I’m the only competition here. Be serious,” Satoru argues, standing from his seat. “Who wouldn’t want to be with The Strongest?”

“Me, or really anyone who loves themselves,” Suguru deadpans.

Satoru rolls his eyes behind his glasses. “You’re an anomaly. Besides, you both know I’m right. No offense, but Nanami is frugal, stiff and kinda boring. You’re a wanted mass murderer with strange looking people as followers, and I haven’t met any of the other guys to know what they’re like, but I can bet–”

The door to the mansion swings open and in walks Higuruma. His wide eyes roam across the room, landing first on Suguru who assesses him with vague interest. Then Nanami, who only glances over to him briefly before resuming his position. Then Satoru, who stands with his hands in the air, obviously in the middle of making a point before Higuruma had arrived.

“Who the hell are you?” Satoru scoffs, unimpressed.

“Satoru–”

“Satoru–”

Suguru and Nanami chide in unison.

“Must you always be so crass?” Suguru questions, pinching the bridge of his nose. It’s been so long since he’d been in the presence of his former best friend, he’d forgotten how annoying he could be. 

“Higuruma Hiromi,” the newer man states as he moves across the room, not caring in the least about Satoru’s tone. He takes a seat on the sofa opposite of the three men, observing his surroundings.

“Nanami Kento,” Nanami introduces himself when the other two fail to speak up. He offers a seated bow, to which Higuruma returns.

“Geto Suguru,” Suguru’s soft voice floats across the room, though he doesn’t offer a polite bow the same way Nanami does. Perhaps if he were the old Suguru he may have, but he’s long past bowing to others. If anything, others should bow to him.

“Gojo Satoru,” the white haired man mutters, rolling his eyes.

Higuruma nods, eyes landing at the buffet in the corner of the large space, staring. “...And who is he?”

All heads turn to the buffet where a massive man stands with a plate of food. His face has stray grains of rice littered around his lips, which is stuffed with tonight’s dinner. He scoops a large spoonful into his mouth, nodding to the other men as he chews.

He’s tall, so tall that his height rivals Satoru’s. Shaggy, black hair covers the most beautiful green eyes. And when he grins, his pretty lips spread wide, the scar running through both his top and bottom lips accenting his features.

This man is gorgeous, they’re all thinking it.

Not to mention, he’s fucking ripped. A skintight black shirt hardly does much to cover every hard muscle of his body. His wide shoulders and thick arms look as though he could crush them all without much thought. And he could. He has.

“Zenin…” Satoru and Suguru speak through gritted teeth.

“Fushiguro,” the man corrects them, taking another bite of his food.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Suguru questions, standing from his seat. His eyes narrow, hands clenched into fists at his side. It’s been a decade since he laid eyes on the man who altered his entire world, and he’s not someone he wanted to see again. He’s lucky Satoru let him off with his life after their last encounter.

“Placing bets on who the broad out there ends up with,” the man laughs loudly with a full mouth. “Bet it’s none of you, though.”

At this, Satoru bursts into a fit of giggles, laughing so hard he doubles over. “I’ll take you up on that bet. Seeing as you’ve never won one in your life, should be easy for me.”

Toji only grins, taking another bite of his food.

“Please don’t tell me you’re also participating for her heart,” Suguru sighs, feeling a headache coming on.

Toji shrugs. “Does it matter?”

At this, Satoru groans, flopping back down on the couch with Nanami. “Who invited the damn geezer to the show? Thought this was for real Sorcerers.”

Nanami inhales deeply. “She’s not a Sorcerer, either,” he states.

“That’s different,” Satoru doesn’t miss a beat. “She’s a Window, so she’s in our world at least.”

It’s true. In Satoru’s eyes, you’re weak, but at least you have enough cursed energy to see the atrocities around you. You won’t see a curse only when you’re on death’s door, you’ll see one before they strike. And sure, you can’t do anything about it, but that’s what he’s for. He doesn’t mind playing protector to someone who at least resides on his side of the fence. It’s what he’s always done anyway. Why not do it for someone he could potentially love?

It also helps that you’re easy on the eyes.

“Hardly, but I do see your point,” Suguru agrees. He takes the spot next to Higuruma on the other sofa. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here for one reason, and it’s her.”

An obnoxious yawn comes from the other side of the room, Toji now leaning against the wall. “When does she show up, anyway?”

The other four look absolutely bewildered, eyes wide and brows pulled together. 

“What…” Suguru asks. “You didn’t go meet her?”

“Was I supposed to?”

“Yes!” Satoru yells from his seat. “How the hell did you even get in here? Past all the cameras?!”

Toji purses his lips together, scratching his head while he racks his memory. Then he shrugs, like he came up short. “Guess I followed the smell of the food.”

BACK OUTSIDE…

You fidget with your fingers as you watch as another limousine pulls up. You’re exhausted, and honestly ready for this whole introduction ordeal to be done. It’s so late, definitely after 9pm, and even after all this, you still have to head inside of the mansion to mingle with the men. You would really rather go to sleep, finally crawl into bed after such a long and tiring day. But there are several eligible bachelors eagerly awaiting your arrival.

And here comes another one.

The door to the vehicle swings open, and a very nice Prada combat boot hits the floor. Out steps the one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in your life. Tall, muscular, and so damn pretty, you’re almost jealous. Even with the distance between you two, you can see how perfect his face is.

Already, he’s made an impression because he’s not dressed to the nines in a suit and tie like the other men you’ve met tonight. Instead, he wears casual clothing, with a loose sleeveless shirt and black jeans. His hair is messy, tied up into two high ponytails that sit atop his head. And even then, he looks just as good as the others.

Something about him looks familiar to you, though you can’t quite place where you could’ve seen him before all of this.

As the man approaches, the lights from the camera crew illuminate his face. You can make out deep purple bags that sit beneath his eyes. He looks as tired as Hiromi, more even. There’s a thick black stripe that runs along his face. A tattoo, maybe? He’s pale, the moonlight casting an almost ethereal glow over him.

‘Why the hell are all these Sorcerers so fucking hot?’

You try to keep it in your pants, focusing on the sound of the chains of this man’s boots jingling softly with each step until he’s standing in front of you. His deep brown eyes rake over your body before they find your eyes. His lips curl into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s not disingenuous any sort of way. More like he’s very nervous and trying very hard to not come off that way.

“Hi,” you throw him a lifeline, the camera capturing the way you smile encouragingly.

“Hi.” 

You offer him your name, trying to loosen him up because he looks like he feels so out of place. There’s something off about him that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“I’m Choso.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Choso. Tell me about yourself.”

Your question breathes life into the man, his face brightening up as he proceeds to tell you all about his brothers. He’s the oldest of four, you find out. And he’s very doting and loving to all three of his younger brothers. You find it adorable, the way he raves about each of them and their special talents that they have. Unfortunately, you don’t have too much time to let him continue.

“You’re very beautiful,” he compliments you suddenly, and you can’t stop the shy smile now spreading along your features that matches the one sitting on Choso’s. 

“Thank you. You are so handsome.” 

Choso beams, and then he does something that surprises you. He wraps his arms around your form, enveloping you in his warmth. He smells incredible, and expensive. You return the gesture, and for some reason, all the stressful buildup of tonight seems to just melt away.

When he releases you, you see the soft smile sitting on his lips and you just know you can’t wait to see more of it. This man is an absolute sweetheart.

“Can’t wait to get to talk with you more tonight,” he says softly, and you don’t miss the light dusting of pink coloring his cheeks now.

“Me too.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, nibbling at the soft flesh as Choso takes your hand and squeezes gently. What began as an awkward encounter ended up being a sweet meeting between you and the man now heading into the mansion. You’re so excited to–

Wait. You think you know why he looks so familiar!

You spin on your heel, turning to call after him. He turns to face you, a questioning look at his face. “Um…have you ever skateboarded before?” You yell across the courtyard.

At this, Choso’s brows pull together, head tilting to the side. He’s so obviously confused. “Skateboarding? No, why?”

You shake your head, chuckling with embarrassment. “No reason…you just…looked kind of familiar.”

- - - - - -

Jesse appears again once the cameras are set back up after another commercial break. He’s all poised as he grins at you. You haven’t seen him since you both first arrived on set, but he lets you know that he will be seeing you more often now that the introductions are complete.

“So, you’ve met all of the men,” he begins, the camera moving back to catch you both in frame. 

“Oh, that was everyone?” You could have sworn there was one more person who was supposed to show up.

“How are you feeling about them so far? Any you’re looking forward to spending more time with?”

Your mind goes through every man who has appeared so far, building a list of what appealed to you most about them. And you really like them all. There’s no way you could choose right now, not when there’s still so much to learn about each of them. You can’t wait to get some alone time. You tell Jesse as much, his response an amused shake of his head. “Looks. like you’ve got your work cut out for you, then.”

“Oh, absolutely. They’re all incredible. I could definitely see my husband being one of these men.”

And it’s a crazy thing to think, that at the end of all of this, you’ll likely be engaged and ready to marry someone.

“But—,” Jesse interjects. “You are down one contestant. Sukuna has chosen to leave the show…”

The camera moves closer to catch the nod of your head. Your brief stint with the King of Curses is not one you think you’ll forget any time soon, if ever. He could have ended this journey for you before it even began. He spared you, mainly for his own entertainment, but still. You came face to face with the King of Curses, and you of all people, lived. Not many can say that. Especially non-Sorcerers.

Jesse tells you that it’s time to get some one on one time with the guys and leads you to the mansion where they all wait. Your heart races in your chest as you approach the enormous doors, stopping just outside of them. You can hear the loud chatter inside, the men laughing raucously as they discuss whatever has them behaving so lively. You’re excited to finally be moving into this next phase of the process. You want to get to know each of them as soon as possible.

“You ready?” Jesse questions, his smile giving you a boost of confidence. “You’ve got this. Go in with an open mind, and an open heart. The man of your dreams awaits you inside.”

You laugh, and it’s all nerves, because that may be the scariest and most exciting part of this entire journey. “I don’t know how you did this, Jesse,” you chuckle dyly, to which Jesse lightly places a hand on your shoulder where he squeezes gently.

“Hey, you’re a smart girl. You’ll be able to find who you’re looking for. Remember…open mind, open heart. Can’t go wrong there.”

You swear you hear some of the staff swoon behind the camera, the crew sure to catch this interaction between you and your host, and it makes you grin. You can see why Jesse’s season of The Bachelor was so popular, and why he’s now the host of both franchises. So you nod, letting Jesse know that you’re ready to head inside to spend time with your men.

He pulls the double doors open for you and you head inside, straight through the doorway and into the living room where the men await. Jesse moves swiftly ahead of you, signaling for you to wait for a moment just outside of the living room, in the hall while he heads down the steps into the main room. 

”Gentlemen,” he announces his presence, and they all stand when they see the host. There’s an eruption of noise, the men greeting Jesse eagerly. Your heart beats wildly in your chest, knowing that in just a few moments, you’ll be seeing them all again. You can’t wait. 

“I know you’re all ready to see ___,” Jesse continues. “How are you feeling about her so far?” Jesse’s eyes land on the blonde man standing quietly, his hands hidden in his pockets to hide the way he fidgets nervously. “Nanami,” Jesse calls. “What’s your first impression?”

Nanami purses his lips together, carefully gathering his thoughts before he speaks. He’s unsure if there is a word that’s strong enough to describe how he felt about you upon first meeting. And he’s not sure if he’s capable of expressing how he felt upon laying eyes on you. Even still, he means it when he says, “An absolute beauty.”

The other men nod in agreement. “Definitely a sight to behold,” Choso adds. “Very sweet, too.” He says it with certainty, like there’s no doubt in his mind that you’re a kind person. He’d like to think that he’s pretty good at reading people. He’s been studying humans for quite some time, after all. You are one of the good ones, he’s sure of it. Your energy makes him feel comfortable, and he tells Jesse this as well.

Jesse beams, impressed with how the men already seem to be taken by you. “That’s great to hear. Now, I do have some unfortunate news or maybe it’s fortunate depending on how you see it.”

There’s a brief pause, which the camera crew uses to capture each contestant's face, making sure they capture any nerves on their features.

“One contestant has chosen not to continue participating in the competition.”

At this, Satoru snorts, garnering the attention of several others, but he lets Jesse continue.

“Sukuna has opted out of the competition.”

“Good,” Suguru interjects. “One less body.”

“Honestly, I couldn’t give a shit if someone left,” he yawns, leaning back against the confessional room’s sofa. “Send the rest of them home, too.” 

He’s aware he sounds like a dick, too confident in himself, but why shouldn’t he be? He’s got so much to offer you, so much that the others can’t provide. He’s confident that with one person gone, he’ll be able to get that much closer to you. He picks at his nails in boredom before he asks. “Who even invited him, anyway?” 

The wheels turn in his head until he puts 2 and 2 together, chuckling quietly to himself. 

“It was Satoru, wasn’t it?”

BACK INSIDE…

“Can we please circle back to the bit about Sukuna?” Nanami speaks up this time. “You just casually had the King of Curses outside to compete for…” He clears his throat, as though the term itself makes him uncomfortable. “Love”. His eyes land on Satoru, because he’s positive it couldn’t have been anyone else who could have thrown this together but him.

The man in question shrugs mischievously, poking his tongue out when his gaze meets Nanami’s. He tries not to smile too hard at the scowl he receives from his colleague in return.

“How on earth were we meant to survive that?” Higuruma chimes in now. His eyes are round with disbelief. “Wait…did ___ meet with him?” 

Jesse nods. “Yes, and they actually had a pretty pleasant conversation. Though Sukuna wasn’t interested in moving forward.” The camera pans over to Higuruma who now seems lost in thought, no longer paying the host much mind. Jesse takes this beat of silence as his cue to continue forward. “Well, our lady of the hour is waiting patiently to have some much needed one on one time with you. Let's get her in here.”

Now, that’s your cue.

You enter the space, feeling the tension rise between the guys immediately, even as they all applaud upon your arrival. Your eyes take in each and every familiar face. It’s nice to see all of the men you’ve had the pleasure of speaking with for a few brief moments. You can’t wait to get alone time with each —

Hold on a minute.

Your eyes land on one man who sticks out like a sore thumb. From across the room, right next to the buffet, a pair of emerald eyes bore into your own, and you feel your heart rate pick up. You’ve never seen this man before. At least you don’t think you have. You have met quite a few people tonight and it’s all been a bit overwhelming. It’s perfectly possible that he slipped your mind after meeting. Though as you drink in the way his eyes shimmer even in the dim lighting, his chiseled features and the deep scar through both his lips, you highly doubt you’d be able to forget a face like that. 

Perhaps he’s another staff member, hired to man the buffet table. If so, he’s doing a piss poor job at it seeing as he’s holding a plate of half eaten food in his hands. He has to be a contestant, right? How could he have gotten past you? Even with your embarrassingly small amount of cursed energy, you feel like you would have picked up on his presence.

The camera swings around, cutting off your vision of the man, and in the blink of an eye he's gone. There’s a pang of disappointment, and a bit of confusion. You feel as if you imagined him. But you don’t have time to dwell on the mystery man your mind conjured up, because you need to focus on the men who are actually here. You turn your attention back to the ones you do know… only to be met again with the face of the stranger from just seconds ago as he stands right before you.

You almost piss yourself from the shock.

His gaze now roams your form, the smallest hint of a smile on his lips. He’s incredibly obvious in the way that he assesses you. And even more obvious in the way he seems to be enjoying what he sees. He slips his hands into his pockets, eyes once again staring straight into yours as he backs away to stand with the other men. “Well,” he hums, not breaking eye contact. “I was gonna snag some food and head out, but I think I’ll stick around…to observe.”

“Sorry,” Jesse interrupts. “But this show is only for those who signed up to participate.”

The mystery man rolls his eyes. “I’m already on the list.”

Jesse shakes his head. “We didn’t see you outside. There’s a proper process to follow here. You’re supposed to meet our Bachelorette,” he motions to you, and you smile awkwardly. “Why didn’t you come through the front door?”

“I’m meeting her now, aren’t I?” He questions, and Jesse nods, because technically he’s not wrong.

“Well, yes, but you should have come through the front,” Jesse argues weakly. 

Toji snorts. “Front door,back door, doesn’t really make a difference to me.” He says this shamelessly as he looks right at you, and you can’t help it! Your mouth drops open, just enough to get a reaction out of the man. The camera quickly captures the grin that spreads on his face when he sees your expression. “Unless it matters to you, sweetheart,” he teases.

You pick your jaw up off the floor, the camera moving around to get your response. You can’t possibly let him one up you on your own show. So you match his smirk, teasingly responding, “I mean…let's wait until we get to know each other a little better to find out.”

It’s the best response you can give in the moment, in front of a room full of men patiently (and hungrily) waiting to get even a smidge of your attention. And clearly it was a good rebuttal. The man’s smirk only widens. You can hear the staff muttering quietly behind you, clearly speaking into the earpiece that you know Jesse wears. You watch as the cameras move to capture the tension between this man and Jesse, who is now pursing his lips together in displeasure. “Are you a…Sorcerer then?” 

He stares Jesse down, and you don’t miss the way his jaw ticks just barely before he grits out a low and gravelly, “sure”. But Jesse doesn’t seem to notice. He simply nods, asking his name.

“Toji Fushiguro.”

Jesse sighs, his friendly host mask slipping just a for a second before he recovers. He claps his hands together, turning towards you with a grin that you’re certain is not genuine in the least. 

“Looks like we’ve got another man vying for your heart, ___. How are you feeling about it?”

You tear your gaze away from Toji, nodding to Jesse. “Hey, the fun of the Bachelorette are the surprises, right? I’m definitely looking forward to getting to know Toji a little more.”

Jesse throws his head back with a laugh. “Glad to see you being a good sport about it! Speaking of surprises, we have just one more.”

The doors to the mansion swing open suddenly, cutting Jesse’s monologue off. The sounds of light footsteps fill the space, and you watch the way Toji crosses his arms, how Satoru rolls his eyes, and how Suguru’s nostrils flare. Clearly, whoever is entering the building isn’t welcome. 

Jesse continues his speech. “I know you were looking forward to having time to get to know each of these men one on one, and you will get that chance, I promise. But…”

The cameraman hurries to catch the sight of shoes, slowly walking down the same steps you took into the living space and you spin around to follow the view. As the camera slowly coasts up the form entering the room, so do your eyes, trailing over the tall, well dressed young man who appears before you.

“You’ve gotten a brief moment to talk to each man, have gotten a good feel for who you want to move forward with, I’m sure.”

It’s not really a question. Jesse states this as though it’s a fact, and as far as this show is concerned, it is. Even if you don’t feel as if you’ve gotten enough time with the men, they feel that you have. And all you feel is a tight knot forming in the pit of your stomach, because you’re sure whatever’s coming is bad news.

“You’ll still get your one on one time with each guy, don’t worry, but at the end of it all,” Jesse turns to face all of the men. “___ will be giving out a rose to each man she thinks should continue forward on this journey with her. However, only one of you will be leaving here without a rose.”

“And him?” Choso questions, staring down the man standing behind you.

“Ah, right. Everyone, meet Sukuna’s replacement.”

The man moves ahead of you, taking your hand in his and pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. He’s as beautiful as the rest of the men, and you wonder again how it’s possible for every damn person in the Sorcerer world to be so damn good looking. 

The man has a smile that reminds you a bit of Toji’s, but that’s the only resemblance he shares with the older man. The eyeliner around his eyes looks better than your own, accentuating the color of his eyes, and his hair that goes from blonde to brown at the tips hangs loosely in his face, giving him an edgy look. The multiple black earrings decorating his ears adds to his style, and your heart flutters when he leans forward boldly and presses another kiss to your cheek.

He stands back, letting himself fully appreciate the view. He strokes his chin lazily, nodding seemingly in approval before he mutters, “Not bad.”

Your brows knit together, head tilting to the side as you reply with a quiet thanks. You introduce yourself, gently pulling your hand from his grip. “It’s nice to meet you…”

The man shakes his head, a cocky grin on his face as he speaks. “I’m sure it’s very nice for someone of your…” He looks you up and down, almost amused at what he sees. “...standing to meet someone like me.” It’s all he says, turning on his heel and moving across the room to stand with the other men without another word.

‘Okay, kind of an asshole,’ you think. ‘A hot asshole, but–’

“I didn’t get your name,” you call after him, trying to reel your thoughts in.

He cards a hand through his hair smoothly. “Zenin Naoya.”

Jesse takes over, explaining that while the rose ceremony will still take place, Naoya will be immune as he is taking Sukuna’s place at the last minute. 

As your eyes roam across the room, taking in the sight of all of the men here competing for a chance at love with you, of all people, you can’t help but feel guilty that shortly, you’ll be having one on one time with each of them only to end up sending one home. They each have made your heart race, each have left an impression on you, each have made you feel something. You’re not sure if you could imagine sending any of these amazing men home.

The camera swings towards your face, capturing every bit of tension in your features as your mind reels with the idea of making such a difficult decision.

Your 1 on 1 time begins now,” Jesse announces. “And ___?”

“Yes, Jesse?” You respond, being pulled out of your thoughts.

Jesse offers you a tiny smile, this time it’s genuine. It’s a smile that understands exactly what you’re experiencing, what you’re feeling. He gently pats your shoulder as he moves towards the exit. “Good luck.”

It's Voting Time!!!

Follow the link below to vote for the Sorcerer you think should NOT receive a rose and move on to the next round!

COMING UP ON THE NEXT EPISODE OF BACHELORETTE KAISEN:

The guys get one on one time with you, and one man will be sent home without a rose! (Remember that Naoya is immune!)

CLICK HERE TO VOTE - Voting closes in ONE WEEK on 10/1!

[ma1dita]

lovers, or partners in crime

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 2.1k

summary: (post-tlt) directly after ‘if you need to be mean (be mean to me)’, The one where Annabeth and Percy think you're guilty too. You realize his betrayal a little too late, and he's left you looking like an accomplice. Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader

a/n: eye twitches guys im gonna crank out happy asks after this bc this hurt to the point of me delaying it a few days. drink water and take care luke nation

(posted 2/2/24 & betad by ellie and lari ty ladies mwah @lixzey @mrsaluado )

—

Exhaustion creeps up on you slowly, then all at once.

It’s been a long week at Camp Half Blood—with trying to stop a war from starting between the cabins and praying to the gods that the trio can stop everyone’s godrents from destroying the balance of the world, you could say you were kept busy making sure the place doesn’t go up in flames. 

Taking orders from Chiron and your dad has been your daily routine from sunrise to sundown, and you were glad to have Luke’s arms to fall into at the end of the night. But you woke up alone this morning, and a heavy feeling in your chest that’s been plaguing you for a while now feels more prominent as you drag your boots across camp for another long day.

Exhaustion blinds us and dulls the senses, but so does love. Sometimes it was hard to tell which was taking effect.

How long were you willing to ignore the signs in front of you?

Maybe it was just another bad day. Your mind felt like it was playing tricks on you, still in a haze from Luke keeping you up the night before, the feeling of his touch still lingering in your pores—evidence of eyebags and lovebites carefully hidden under concealer. You find yourself almost walking in a dream state, before Katie calls out to you, tapping you on the shoulder.

“Did you hear? Annabeth’s back. It’s all gonna be over soon,” she exclaims, and the both of you sigh in relief. You’d do anything to get this over with and take a long break. The idea of a long weekend with Luke somewhere, anywhere but here sounds like Elysium in comparison to what you’ve put yourselves through recently.

“You see Luke anywhere, Katie?”

She hums, her hand reaching out to fix some of the trampled foliage along the path, before she looks up at you, shaking her head.

“Not this morning, no. Maybe he’s with Annabeth?”

You nod thoughtfully, stretching your arms back to soothe the tension in your back. You’ll find him sooner or later, now that this is all over.

You always do.

—

“Clarisse stole the master bolt.” 

Your fingers wound themselves tighter around Luke’s at Percy’s declaration, but you can’t help but watch your boyfriend’s face closely as the rest of the conversation passes in the background. It’s been a weird day, to say the least—helping to set up for Percy’s celebration, and Luke being tightlipped and distant the whole while. You don’t think he’s actually said a single word to you since last night until he dragged you into his cabin to see Annie and Percy.

“Everyone was ready to join the war here. To start fighting each other. An accusation against Clarisse…” you reason awkwardly, more of a question than a statement. Standing here with your friends, you feel like the odd one out. How could you miss out on Clarisse being the lightning thief? But Luke looks at the two kids in front of you as determined as the devil himself.

He knew. 

He spares you a sidelong glance, a smile quirking up on the scarred side of his face.

When did Luke start making plans without you? 

Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, tranquility comes off of you in waves; you barely notice that Luke drops your hand until you hear him speak again. 

“You’ve stopped the war. You’ve saved the world. Now, it’s safe to tell Chiron and finish cleaning up the mess. I told him we needed to meet him away from the celebration so we can talk without any of Clarisse’s supporters noticing.” Luke crosses his arms, trying to avoid the reach of your powers and your scorching stare while his gaze is sharp on Percy, and suddenly, the heavy feeling in your chest has a name, revealing itself as doubt. 

How could you be so stupid? 

Eyes don’t lie, even if Luke does, and you finally see through him, so much that you fear you’ve found his other side. 

Annabeth grabs your hand, your head whipping to look at her as she speaks, “We’ll keep an eye on Clarisse while you’re gone. Make sure she isn’t going anywhere.” You feel your body shake with paranoia as you start to question everything until the daughter of Athena pulls you back to the present. Taking quick steps out of cabin 11, you take a glance back at Luke, seeing him look glumly at you from the doorway, and it reminds you of a simpler time five years ago, with him standing in the same spot he introduced himself to you on his first day at camp. This time, you don’t walk away.

“I’ll find you later, I…I just need to talk to Luke real quick,” you say biting your lip hesitantly. Annabeth’s gaze is cold as steel as she nods, doubt now running through her as well as she watches you walk back to your boyfriend. You catch him by the arm as he tries to glide past you.

“Hey, are you okay?” You’re searching for an answer Luke will never give you, not out loud—as he dodges your glances, keeping a distance between you two. 

“Come on, I’ve gotta go,” he gruffs, anxiety running off of him in waves as his hands fidget at his sides. The sun is setting, and he needs to finish what he was told to do.

“We still have a bit of ti—” He interrupts you swiftly, “Not enough.”

“I know you’re always in charge around here, but not everything can go the way we want, you know?”

Your lips turn into a frown at his words, and you wonder who it is you’re talking to. Surely, not the boy whose arms you fell asleep in last night. You used to be able to figure him out so easily, but now… he’s acting like you’re an enemy. The banter he deals doesn’t usually make you feel like you’re at the short end of a stick, and though he’s right in front of you, it feels like his mind is already miles away. You’re desperate to hold onto whatever you can though, not wanting to let go of whatever’s plaguing him.

“Angelface. Look at me. Percy’s a hero, everything else will fix itself, why are you so—”

Luke sighs, blinking slowly, and you’re surprised when he pulls your hands to his chest, placing them under his camp beads, so you stop speaking. 

You never know when the last time is until it happens. You didn’t think it’d feel like this.

“I need to do this.” 

He’s not talking about turning in Clarisse anymore, and your body reacts before your mind does, surging forward to hug him. Your fingers run up the expanse of his back, the smell of citrus and musk being familiar but the discomfort in his embrace is not. From here, you can’t see his eyes, but his heart rate accelerates as he wounds his hands in your hair, pulling you closer until the space between you is nonexistent.

“Please,” he mumbles. 

Is it a request? 

The shock runs through your veins as you try to think of what to say next—Luke’s never been one to beg.

“I’d do anything to protect our home, Luke, you don’t have to convince me when it’s the right thing to do.”

Your name falls from his lips, almost like he disagrees with what you said, and then you realize he’s begging you.

He’s asking for your permission. He’s asking you to let him go.

“You’re my home, Trouble. You know that right? You’re the only thing that matters to me.”

You try to nod, try to pull away to look at him but he presses you harder into his embrace, like he knows he won’t have the chance again. It hurts, though not in the way you expect.

“L-Luke, you’re hurting me.” Your breath quickens as you try to unravel yourself from him, but you’re unsure where he ends and you begin.

“Just a little bit longer.” 

Your nose buries itself into his neck, and you realize he’s trembling, but you can’t figure out who’s scared, him or you? Voices are echoing in your head and it’s too loud; you clench your fists into his orange camp shirt. Why do you always need to see the proof to believe it’s real? Why do you have to wait until the damage is done?

“I have to do this, Trouble. Everything will change and there’s no other way— either we win or we die. Failure isn’t an option for me. Not again.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the dramatic one,” you mutter, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face the truth for a while more, “but I still love you, despite it.” 

Despite this.

A watery chuckle escapes you, and his hands are trembling as he pushes a strand of your hair back. He holds onto you more softly now, and whether you know it or not, it’s to make up for all the time he’ll have to go without holding you after this. Percy calls out to him in the distance and once Luke frees you from his arms, you wonder why it feels like you’re unraveling at the seams, slowly parting from him. The tether you have on each other loosens, and it’s hard to tell who is being freed, and who is letting go. Luke walks away wordlessly, curls bouncing in the brisk air without a second glance until you call out to him.

“I’ll find you!”

A threat disguised as a promise, you stand there in the middle of the path feeling exposed as the wretched little girl at your core, desperate to be loved, desperate to be enough. 

But it’s not enough for him to stay, now is it?

—-

The truth is, Luke broke your heart before you even lost him, by hitting you where it hurts— he hit home. Camp Half-Blood has always been the one place you’ve known as home, and even if you claim to hate it—you’d die protecting it if that’s what was needed of you. You stay vigilant next to Annabeth, who looks up at your unusually quiet demeanor, and you feel like you have to confess to a crime that you didn’t commit.

“Luke’s leaving camp.”

She nods stiffly without answering you, wondering if you know about what else he’s done, too. Unlike you though, she’d rather find out before the damage is done.

The sun had set an hour ago, and fireworks were going off in the distance, everyone celebrating a hero’s return. You noticed Clarisse still sitting around the campfire with her siblings, Chiron still present and watching the festivities, and what had to be your last straw was noticing Annabeth had disappeared from your side. So you do what you do best, chase after Luke, and hope that you’re not too late.

Your breath heaves as you run through the dark forest without a single plan in mind and hoping, just hoping that no one’s hurt. You run faster towards the sound of swords clanging against each other, two figures illuminated by the fireworks in the distance.

What you didn’t expect to see was Luke’s sword pointed at an injured son of Poseidon sprawled out in the dirt.

“Percy!” your voice yells out shakily, your instincts kicking in as the truth is laid out in front of you, something darker and much worse than anything you could’ve imagined. Blue light illuminates the scarred side of your boyfriend’s face as he turns to look at you with shimmering eyes, and you see Annabeth with her sword raised at…the both of you.

Is this what love is… looking at a person who’s hurt you and still hoping they’re alright? You’re exhausted, wondering how long he’s been lying to your face—while he holds you, kisses you, and takes your pain away… and it all amounted to feeling guilty for letting his deception slip through your fingers and hurting the people you love. 

Luke’s scar you used to compare to a bolt of lightning now looks like a tear cascading from regret. And perhaps he does regret this, losing Annabeth and losing you, but he never turns back on his word once he’s made a decision. 

This one was just made without you. 

There’s a moment where everything goes silent despite the booming in the sky and you both take one last good look at each other, and Percy and Annabeth are unsure if you two look like forlorn lovers, or partners in crime.

“Castellan…”

His face hardens again at the wavering sound of your voice, almost unrecognizable in the dim light, and you know now that this is it. You’ve always been convinced that a love like the one you and Luke share is tailor-made and stitched together by the Fates. But the strings are cut, and like Atropos, he’s the one holding the scissors.

The last thing you see are his dark eyes and how he turns to run away, headfirst into a future without you. 

For a second you could’ve sworn they flashed gold.

—

“I wanted to hurt you

 but the victory is that I could not stomach it.” 

 -Richard Siken

next part: love like a blister: the five stages of loving losing luke

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun @lilacspider @theadventuresofanartist @sucker4seresin @simpforsunwoo @zanzie @starrystormwritings

[momotonescreaming]

Part One (You are Here) | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

“So.” Jeff starts, voice rising over the Dio cassette Eddie put on, volume down low for once. It makes good background noise. Filling the space of Eddie’s bedroom. Not that it’s not full already.

“Okay so we��re doing this?” Eddie asks, turning around from where he was sorting through the pile of stuff on top of his dresser, stray D20 in hand. He flings himself onto his bed, bouncing on the mattress. He’s looking at Jeff with a shit-eating grin, although it’s not unkind.

“Doing what?” he replies, frowning, turning from where he’s sat at the small desk by the door. There’s not a lot of space, not a lot of wiggle room, so Jeff is immediately faced with Eddie staring at him knowingly from the mattress. They’ve known each other since middle school, since Eddie moved into town, and he can tell with just a glance that Eddie is seeing straight through him. 

It’s only fair, he concedes, he saw straight through Eddie.

“This thing you can’t stop thinking about, but haven’t told anyone. That thing?” Eddie starts, resting his head in his hands. It almost looks like he’s going to start kicking his feet like a girl in a sleepover. The kind of scenes you see in movies. All cliche and shit. “We’re talking about it?”

“Yeah.” Jeff sighs. Takes a deep breath. He looks over at Eddie, watches as his best friend raises an eyebrow, smiles, silently prompts him along.

“You know your horrific crush on Steve Harrington?” he eventually starts, fingers absently tapping at the wood of the chair he’s claimed. He can feel it swirling in his chest. The words, the feelings, all the stuff he had been running through his mind. Eddie won’t be mean about it, of course he won’t, but there’s going to be gentle ribbing and he’s really not sure if he’s ready for it. Maybe with just the two of them it'll be okay. Eddie gets it, after all, maybe better than anyone. 

Eddie just snorts. “I’m aware, yes.”

“And how I teased you for being into the preppiest jock in Hawkins?” He adds, resisting the urge to tap his foot, bounce his knee, run his socked foot along the carpeted floor.

“Also, yes.” 

“Well.” Jeff says, and he grimaces. Leaves the sentence there. He doesn’t need to finish it just yet, Eddie will pick up the pieces. Slot them into place.

He sees the exact second Eddie gets it. Watches his eyes light up as it clicks. The glee on his face is evident, the bastard. It's fucking radiating out of him, leaking out through his pores. 

“No,” Eddie gasps, scrambling to sit up on his bed, inching towards Jeff. He's gripping the sheets, the tan floral fabric strained between his fingers. “No fucking way. You have a crush?”

He just nods, humming in affirmation. 

“Well who is it?” Eddie asks, bouncing in place. He's giddy, fidgeting and not quite staying still. “C’mon, tell me. Are they more attainable than Steve Harrington, at least?”

“On one hand they're more attainable,” Jeff starts, gesturing with his hands. “Because, y'know, straight.” 

Eddie hums, nodding, eyes wide. He wouldn't ever admit it, but he was an incorrigible gossip at heart. Always wanting to know things about people. Listening when Wayne talks about the guys from the plant, picking up rumours from people who bought from him, slowly learning what's happening in the trailer park. Who was sleeping with who, who doesn't do their job, who was moving in.

So when Jeff hinted he had a crush? Eddie was all over it. He was also his best friend, so that helped.

“But on the other hand they're less attainable,” Jeff says, taking a deep breath. Bracing himself for whatever dramatic reaction Eddie was going to spout. “Because it's Chrissy Cunningham.” 

His traitorous heart leaps in his chest the second he says her name. A smile threatens to creep across his face. Chrissy Cunningham. Out of all the cheerleaders, she was the one who stood out. She was cute, and kind, with a smile that lit up the room. The curl of her bangs that framed her face, the way she matches her eyeshadow to her scrunchie. Jeff couldn’t stop staring at her. Couldn’t stop noticing things about her. 

Eddie looks positively giddy, bouncing on the worn springs of his mattress, grinning like the devil himself. Wide eyes and bared teeth, ringed fingers gripping his sheets even tighter. He’s electric, he’s vibrating out of his skin. If he were wearing his wallet chain, Jeff would hear him jingling. 

“Yes!” He exclaims, hair swinging around his face as he moves. Not unlike he’s headbanging. “Jeffery! Jefferson! Join me in Hell!”

Jeff can’t help but concede a laugh, ducking his head, almost pressing his chin to his chest. Hiding a smile, almost shy. It’s kind of nice, having it out in the open now. Having Eddie welcome him into the world of crushes on the most popular kids in school. 

“The fucking karma is so juicy right now Jeffington, oh my god! Eat shit!” Eddie adds, excitedly tapping his feet. He bounces back onto his bed, patting a spare spot of mattress beside him. “But I’m just too excited, Jesus Christ, you get it now!”

“I fucking get it now,” Jeff laughs, getting up off the chair and flopping onto the bed beside Eddie. Feeling the worn sheets beneath his back, looking up at the yellowed ceiling of the trailer. “There’s no way in Hell anything is going to happen, I know this, but fuck, she’s the cutest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, says you and half of Hawkins High,” Eddie replies, laughing, looking over at Jeff, crossing his legs underneath him. 

“Like you’re one to judge, ‘Mr I have a crush on Steve Harrington,’ the most popular guy in school. Even him stopping throwing those parties didn't make people hate him.” Jeff laughs, gently shoving at Eddie, moving him towards the edge of the bed. “You call him an asshole and then turn around and daydream about his laugh, or his eyes, or his hair.”

“Listen,” He retorts, splaying his hands out when he talks. “I am but a humble homosexual, and even I can’t deny the fact that that preppy, douchey, jock is a fucking smokeshow.”

“What?” Jeff laughs. “You want him to slap your ass and hook up with you in the locker room? Woo you with all his dumb jock shit?”

“Literally, yes,” Eddie laughs, flopping down onto his bed now next to Jeff, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a grin as Jeff snorts. Locks eyes with his best friend, and lets his gaze soften a bit. “But tell me about Chrissy, how did this happen?”

Jeff sighs, and is only a little embarrassed at how wistful it sounds. His stomach swoops, organs melting into something soft and gooey as he paints her in his minds eye. As he pictures her. 

“I just,” He starts, and then stops. Sighs again. “I always noticed Chrissy, always thought she was pretty — because y’know, cheerleader, it's a given — but I didn’t think much further than that.” 

“Until?” Eddie asks, drawing out the word. He nudges Jeff's leg with a socked foot.

“Until I held open a door for her one time,” he sighs, giving into Eddie's prompting. “And she giggled, and thanked me, and it sort of hit me just how much I wanted to kiss her.” 

Eddie fucking yelps, grabbing and shoving at Jeff's shoulder. He laughs along with him, his energy infectious. Let's himself move along with the motions, shoving back at Eddie, bedsprings creaking underneath the pair of them. A part of him absently wonders how much of this Wayne can hear. Raising Eddie, he's probably used to it — the noise. The energy. “Jeff, you sly dog!” 

“I didn't actually kiss her,” Jeff laughs. “I just thought about it.” 

“Oh I bet you thought about it,” Eddie teases, wiggling his eyebrows, continuing to grip and shove at Jeff's arm. 

“Oh shut up,” Jeff laughs. “Like you're one to judge.” 

“Oh, I'm not judging,” he replies, stopping his shoving so they're just resting on his bed together. Hair splayed out across the mattress, fingers absently picking at his sheets. “You remember the things I've said to you about Steve.” 

“I do, yes.” 

“But,” Eddie says, rolling over onto his side, propping himself up and looking down at Jeff. “We’re not talking about how much I’ve talked about wanting to suck Steve’s dick right now.”

Jeff snorts.

“It’s more than that, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Jeff exhales, the air leaving his lungs softly, as he lets himself melt a little further into Eddie’s mattress. It’s easy, here with Eddie. His best friend, whom he knows everything about and knows everything about him in return. “I see Jason hold her hand as they walk through the halls, and hold her books for her. One time I saw them at a movie date together at The Hawk when I was out with my parents, and I want that.”

Eddie makes a noise, low and soft, as he looks over at Jeff. 

“I’ll never get it, not with her, but oh man,” he adds. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“I get it.” Eddie adds, voice still soft and low. “I know I talk about how hot Steve is, but I saw him and that Wheeler chick in the halls. How he’d swing her round and kiss her.”

It sort of hits him, just then, just how much Eddie wants this as well. Wants soft kisses, and romantic gestures. Intimate dates and someone happy to see him. But he can’t be seen wanting things he’ll never get. It hurts too much. 

“When we get out of Hawkins,” Jeff says simply. “We’ll get this. We’ll find people who find our metal music and shitty garage band endearing. You’ll find someone who wants to kiss you in the halls.”

Eddie snorts, but he’s smiling sort of bittersweetly while he does it. “And you’ll bag yourself a cheerleader.”

Jeff smacks Eddie’s side, waving his arm out half-heartedly. They stay like that, sitting in the silence, chilling on Eddie’s bed together. It’s nice. 

“So we agree we’re not telling Gareth about this?” Jeff says, propping himself up to look at Eddie.

“Oh we’re absolutely not telling Gareth about this. '' Eddie replies automatically. “He’ll be so annoying about it.”

“One day he’ll get a crush on a prep,” Jeff replies, smiling. “And then we’ll tell him.”

“The Corroded Coffin curse?” Eddie laughs. “Getting a crush on a prep?”

“Definitely,” he replies. “First you, now me. Frank’s next, and then Gareth is going to eat his words about those hot metal chicks he definitely has a crush on.”

“Who are definitely real, and absolutely not just models in magazines he jerks off too,” Eddie laughs, and it’s nice. Sharing this. Sharing this with someone who gets it. It’s not just that their crushes are preps, or jocks. It’s that their crushes are popular, and hot, and people who are never going to look at them twice. 

Jeff laughs, an exhale of air, and nudges his foot against Eddie’s. 

Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

[lov3-lik3-ghosts]

Hello! First off, congrats on your mum’s business🙂‍↕️

Here’s a one shot request that you can shape to your liking:

f!reader overhears Enoch talk badly about her and an argument arises. The classic miscommunication trip hahah

have fun and thanks🍝

Leak Death

Pairing: Enoch O’Connor x fem!reader.

Summary: Enoch has refused to let anyone else know of your relationship for months but still acts out when someone else takes an interest.

Warnings: Not beta or proofread. Use of Y/n. Slight mentions of an OC character.

Word Count: 2.4k

Note: Hi, lovely! You’re so kind, I’ll be sure to pass your congratulations along <3 First time writing Enoch dialogue so I hope you enjoy!

request guidelines | mother m-list

“Y/n?” His fist rapped against the wood of your door, each tap sounding through your room with the same erratic pounding of your heart. You don’t answer him, huddling deeper into the corner of your bed, against the wall.

He doesn’t let up.

Your name is called two times more, said through a gradually thickening accent. Your bottom lip wobbles. The longer he speaks the more his words echo through you, forming half collerative truths.

Enoch had always told you the truth, harshly said or not and he’d always been able to read you like a book. It was lovely when you’d been new to the loop, something you could easily latch onto and take comfort in. But now, when he knew everything about you, spilled from your lips and dripped from your soul… Enoch couldn’t keep your secrets, only his own.

“Y/n, please!” He pleads, his knocks fading into silence.

“She’s pathetic.”

Pathetic. That’s what he thought of you and Enoch never lied. Never to you, never about you.

“I’m s- I’m sorry.” The apology is forced through gritted teeth, as foreign to your ears as it was his tongue and to you, nothing but insincere. “Please just open the door?”

“Her peculiarity was intriguing to me at first too. Now I know it’s nothing but an inconvenience to us, a curse really.”

You are cursed. One touch of your body in the wrong place and you risk the possibility of unintentionally taking someone’s life. Poison runs through your ulnar veins and produces a slick substance on your wrists, never ending and never washing away, no matter how hard you scrub it always comes right back. A brush of the skin there or a leak through your gloves, everything becomes unsafe.

“There’s been countless times we’ve had to spend the day out just because she caught her glove on something. You think you’d be safe kissing her? Holding her hand? You’d die quick and painful. The loop couldn’t save you.”

The poison acts quick, leaking through most fabrics and seeping right through the pores of any skin it touches. Death is almost instantaneous once it’s been touched.

“She’s a walking hazard.” He scoffed. “She leaks death.”

You are always a hazard. You’ll always leak death.

You don’t always have to be pathetic.

Your door shakes under the weight of his fist once again. His voice has stayed quiet until now, speaking as though you were conversing face to face. “Y/n,” He pleads louder. “Please. If you just open the door, I can explain. Or- or don’t open it and just let me know you’re listening.”

You scoot to the edge of your bed, shoving your blanket to the side. The mattress squeaks lightly under you and you cringe, praying he didn’t hear and take it as a sign to keep talking. Trying your hardest to stay quiet, you shuffle over to the door.

The brass of the door handle makes a funny noise against the leather of your glove, squeaking as your fingers curl around it.

Enoch is silent on the other side and you wonder for a second if maybe he’d given up like you’d earlier knew he would but then his voice sounds again, only this time he’s not speaking to you.

“What do you want, Emma?” He spits, a dagger of defence spearing through the silence.

You pause, every breath feeling too loud, too incriminating.

“You’re a jerk, Enoch.” Emma claims. You can almost picture how she stands, tall with her shoulders back and frowning in the way only she can, sure and disappointed. “I can’t believe you.”

“Leave. This has nothing to do with you.” Enoch snarls.

This Enoch was more familiar to you, angry and defensive always. This was the Enoch you’d met way back when, fresh to the loop and in need of a friend. This was the Enoch who could only ever keep his own secrets, have his own back.

“Y/n is my friend. This has everything to do with me.” Emma defends, scoffing loud enough for you to hear. “You’re a jerk. How many times did Miss Peregrine have to convince us that there was nothing wrong with our peculiarities despite what non-peculiars had to say about them? All for you to become a part of the problem.”

“You don’t think I know that?” He spits. “I’m trying to apologise, so just go away, Emma.”

“No!” She exclaims. “You do this all the time! You’ve treated her badly since you met her, the only difference this time was that she didn’t just let it happen.”

Your heart pangs. They all knew. They all knew how much of a pushover you are, how pathetic you are. Embarrassment gnaws at your gut.

“Y/n is more than capable of sticking up for herself.” Enoch says firmly, his accent twanging into a growl. “Don’t make her out to be stupid. You're not around to see it.”

Emma stays silent for a moment. “You think that makes what you say acceptable?”

It’s a rhetorical question really but Enoch answers anyway, with words you never expected to roll off his tongue. “No.” He grits. “But my girlfriend is more than capable of telling me if she has a problem, she doesn’t need your help.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Your hold on the handle tightening.

There’s a collective gasp through the hallway that causes your eyebrows to furrow, the sound much too loud to be only Emma.

You open the door before you can really think about what you’re doing, coming face to face with the wide eyes of your loop-mates. Miss Peregrine stands behind them, her sharp gaze flitting sternly between you and Enoch. When her eyes catch yours she stares for a long moment, one that has your heart pausing for a whole new reason, before she smiles softly.

“Come along, children,” She beckons, gesturing to the stairs beside her. “I think Enoch and Y/n have some things to discuss.”

The youngest of the children go without question, muttering between themselves as they glance between you and Enoch with unbidden excitement. Olive gives you a long glance before she follows, one that you can’t quite decipher the meaning of but don’t yet care much for.

Jacob, Emma and Sam all linger. Emma’s mouth gapes and snaps shut twice before she turns to you. “Y/n?” Her wide eyes glimmer with question, straying only to further scan you. You shuffle uncomfortably, her eyes scorching your skin.

“Emma?” You murmur back, avoiding her piercing gaze.

“Girlfriend?”

“I-“ You take a deep, grounding breath. “Maybe? I’m– I’m sorry for not… telling you.”

Emma clenches her jaw. “Why didn’t you?” She spits.

You ignore the tightening of your throat. Jacob steps forward, resting a grounding hand in the crook of her shoulder. Emma seems to sense something in the touch, taking a small step back into his chest.

You stammer over a few words, trying to scramble together a response that wouldn’t paint Enoch in a bad light.

You’re not sure why you’re still trying to protect him, still defending his case even when you didn’t agree, didn’t understand it but you are; you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to stop.

Words fail you.

But like he always does, Enoch reads you like a yawning book, wide and full of secrets. He does something he’s only ever done once. “It’s my fault,” He takes the blame. “I didn’t want anyone to know. It wasn’t anyone’s business.” Even if it was his fault.

“Of course it was.” Emma says, exasperated. Raising and dropping her arm in his direction for full effect.

You see Enoch’s jaw clench in the corner of your eye, pulling taught in the way you’ve always loved, but he doesn’t respond. You look away.

“Emma,” Miss Peregrine interrupts, tone as firm as always. “Take a minute to cool down before you get ready for super. Jake, go with her.” She instructs.

Emma takes a breath, lips forming a would be argument. One look from Miss Peregrine has her quickly relenting, her lead boots clanging roughly with the floor as she stomped down the stairs, Jacob scurrying after her without so much as a glance in your direction.

“Sam.” The ymbryne calls sternly. Sam doesn’t look away from you, hasn’t once since you opened the door but he tilts his ear in her direction. “Downstairs to get your hands washed. Super will be ready in precisely five minutes.”

He stands dead still a few seconds longer, staring right through you with something unnerving lighting his gaze. Your skin crawls. Enoch steps before you, his shoulder shielding your face from Sam’s watching eyes. As angry as you are with Enoch right now, you couldn’t help but feel safer with him before you.

Sam’s smile is sharp as he finally looks away, something malicious gleaming his teeth as he finally pivots and travels down the creaky stairs, muttering a ‘yes, Miss Peregrine’ along the way.

“Don’t take too long, children.” Miss Peregrine says as she steps towards the stairs. “We wouldn’t want you to be too late to super, would we?”

“No, Miss Peregrine.” You and Enoch murmur simultaneously.

Enoch turns to you the second you can no longer hear her footsteps, gripping you by the waist and walking you backwards into your room before you can protest. The door clicks shut loudly behind you, forced closed by the toe of his shoe.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me right now,” He rushes out. “But please just listen before you start scolding.”

You choose to stay silent out of pure curiosity to what excuse he could pull together, ready and willing to call him out. If anything, he’d buttered you up by believing you were capable of scolding him.

“The others were playing one of their undeniably idiotic games again and he- Sam expressed a… liking for you.” He spat like the words were poison in his mouth.

You furrowed your brows, waiting. Nothing more came from him. “That’s it?” You scoff.

“That’s it.” He confirms, fingers twitching against your sides. You shove him off in frustration.

“Are you pulling my leg?” You frown. “You said all that you said because Sam might like me? That’s it? Are you kidding me, Enoch?”

Enoch narrows his eyes at you. “Might? He might as well have had Fiona grow you a flower garden.”

“I don’t care!” You snarl, exasperated. “You called me pathetic, a walking hazard! You said I leak death! You humiliated me, you backstabbed me. You used my words to make me look bad. I trusted you! I trusted you and you took advantage of it!”

“I was trying to make him leave you alone!” Enoch’s bellow echoes through your room, loud enough that you’re sure the others heard him too.

You inhale deeply, your shoulders dropping with defeat. “What does it matter anyway?” You heave a rough sigh.

He pauses, chest rising and falling erratically. “What?”

“What does it matter?” You repeat, swallowing. “He didn’t know we were together. No one knows we’re together. Hell, half the time I don't even know if we’re together!”

“I-“ He starts, face dark with anger before taking a deep breath. “You’re right. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“You said I was cursed, Enoch.” You whisper. His frown deepens. “Is that what you think of me? You think holding my hand and kissing me is nothing but dangerous? Is that why you won’t let me tell, so you don’t have to do those things?”

“No!” He exclaims, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. “No. You think I would be with you if I thought all those things? You think death through love scares me? I-”

“You said those things, Enoch, not me.” You interrupt, pointing an accusing finger into his chest.

“I know!” He snarls. “I was just trying to get him to leave you alone. I know he makes you worry. I was saying the things I thought would scare him, not me.”

“It had to come from somewhere, Enoch O’Connor.” You growl back, fisting his shirt. “You think those things. Probably always have. Stop treating me like I’m naive.”

“You’re not naive, Y/n.” His tongue pokes out to softly wet his lips, a subtle nervous gesture you’d never been able to take your eyes away from. “I- I have thought them.” He looks away from you, guilty.

Your heart hurts as you take a step back, unfisting his shirt. It was different to hear it come from his mouth than you just thinking it; it cut much deeper. Your eyes water quickly, clouding over with pooling tears that spill down your cheeks quicker than you can stop them.

“In the beginning,” He rushes to continue, his voice thick and frantic. “When we first got together. I couldn’t help it, it was a possibility. Is a possibility. But you’re worth the risk — and more than.”

Your lip wobbles once more, trembling uncontrollably against your words. “What you said was downright nasty.” You cry. “I don’t think it was just the beginning.”

“It was.” He almost pleads. “It was. I don’t care about your peculiarity because you don’t care about mine. You take all the precautions, you make it safe. My peculiarity is all about the dead, I could hardly be scared of you.”

“Don’t brag.” You scoff, trying to smother your emotions back down into the chest box through distraction. “You do enough of that already.”

Enoch huffs a chuckle. “Whatever.”

“You have a lot of making up to do for that.” You sniffle, finally glancing over at him.

“You forgive me?” He swallows lightly, almost unnoticeable if not for the bob of his throat.

You shrug. “Are we still a secret?”

“I don’t think that’s possible anymore.” He shakes his head, dark curls ruffling with the motion.

“Your fault.” You pursue your lips.

“Never said it wasn’t.” He smirks lightly. “I’ll fix it. All of it.” He promises.

You relent into his lure, awaiting the upcoming weeks of him making it up to you in all the best ways with bode excitement. “I want at least a week of fights between my favourite homuncoli.”

Enoch steps up to you, the toes of his shoes meeting yours. His hands find home on your hips, pulling you flush against himself. Your cheeks flush pink.

“Deal.” He grins, leaning his head down to yours, connecting your lips with a tender passion.

~ 𐀔 ~ 𐀔 ~ 𐀔 ~

I’m beating writers blocks ass over here!

Like, comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated and very encouraging!

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ⸻ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader

⌜HOW MR. MILLER STOLE CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST⌟

genre: christmas, enemies to lovers, romance, fake dating, minors dni

word count: 0.6k

chapter summary: the fireflies are dying one by one and you're desperately seeking a way out.

warnings: age gap, canon typical violence, spoilers for the season one finale

**dividers by @saradika

You smell blood. Feel it almost. The heat, the stickiness of it. Despite the clean walls and the sterile smell you know something is wrong. Something is very wrong—the fireflies are dying. One by one. Their light snuffed out, left to rot. 

You knew this would happen. After all of what you’ve done, what Marlene has done. It was wrong, and karma always hungers after those who wronged her—Killing a little girl to save the world. . . hiding it from her. . . It was the trolley problem come to life. You never could answer that question, never could decide what was deemed right and wrong in that situation. Now, it seemed like all of you had chosen wrong. And you were being punished for it. The Angel of Death sought to claim you all.

At least it’s better than getting infected. At least the bullet would be shot right between your eyebrows and you’ll be dead before you can blink. 

Your finger presses stubbornly against the trigger as you move. You still have the boldness of youth. Maybe you can escape. Maybe you can be free. You wanted out a long time ago, just scared to be out there all on your own. 

Your lips press tightly together upon seeing a body, you don’t know his name, don’t dwell on it as you jump over his corpse and head for the exit. You hear gunshots. Screams. Shouts. You smell blood—such a persistent smell—You smell fear. Death is coming for you. Your footsteps gain momentum, you feel his breath on the back of your neck and the nuzzle cold against your forehead.

Then you see him. Just as you’re turning the corner, heart beating in your throat and sweat beading out of every pore, you see him—the angel of death. 

And fuck—you know you shouldn’t think it, but the mass killer is beautiful. 

Without even thinking you drop your gun and raise your hands. The best way to survive is to expose your neck to the beast. Showing you mean no harm. You don’t kick a raging lion. 

He doesn’t seem to see it though. His eyes stare right past you. He barely blinks, blood of the fireflies coating his already dirty shirt. He cocks the gun and you know he’s ready to shoot, your eyes go wide. You don’t want to die. Not yet. Not without finding any semblance of peace or belonging. 

“Please don’t,” you blurt out. His eyes seem to focus then, dark soulless gaze flitting across your face, noticing your raised hands. “I just want to leave. She’s on the top floor, at the end of the hall—Please don’t shoot.” 

He observes you a beat longer. From the way his muscles tense you think he’s about to shoot, why wouldn’t he? What made you different from all the rest? 

You close your eyes, chest rising painfully. There’s a loud hum in your ear. Maybe it’s the rush of blood? You think about your life, of all the death surrounding you. All you remember is the outbreak. Every memory tainted with curling cordyceps ever since you were six. You remember your mother holding you by the hand and yanking your arm so hard you thought it would be ripped off the socket. Your father trying to protect you both, leading the way—You remembered the day Marlene found you, time spent with the fireflies, the excitement when the immune girl was found. . . 

The train of thought would end with a measly bullet. 

A bullet that never came. A gun that never fired. 

When you open your eyes he was gone. 

You have no idea what it was—maybe it was the fact that you were significantly younger than the other soldiers, maybe it was because you were already out through the door when he pointed a gun at you— no matter what it was you were miraculously spared from the bloodshed.

The angel of death has spared you. 

[seresinhangmanjake]

Because You Stayed

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female reader

Summary: Your relationship with Jake is new. Very new. Like one-month-old new. Too new for you to be pregnant with his baby, and yet, that's exactly the situation you're facing.

*This fic can be read alone, but it is also a "What if?" scenario for Oh, Baby.*

Warnings/notes: pregnancy, fluff. idk, that's probably it.

Words: 1459

---

It hadn't been long. That was the terrifying bit.

Yes, you'd known him for what felt like ages, but that time spent knowing him was missing the one way you'd always wished to know him most. For a year, you'd dreamed of being with him, pining in silence, until everything changed and you got your wish. 

It had only been a month since you took the risk and kissed him, and you and Jake had certainly used the time wisely. After that one month, you finally, deeply, truly knew him—all of him, in and out, up and down. You knew what made him feel good. You knew how to make him whimper. You knew that every time he came in you, he buried his face in your neck, kissing your sensitive skin with a groan in his throat.

And then suddenly, you knew you were pregnant.

In just thirty days, Jake Seresin managed to knock you up. 

Well, actually, that wasn't so accurate. According to your doctor, it only took your pilot one shot—his first shot with you—to get it done. You'd been pregnant for weeks and hadn't known until you realized you were too often exhausted and had an unusual lack of cramping for the time of the month.

You went through the stages, of course. The denial and acceptance and all those in between as your doctor stared at you, trying to understand the thoughts running through your head. It was wildly overwhelming, certainly. But despite it all, there was one other thing you knew by the time you pulled out of the office's parking lot: 

You wanted your baby. Which meant your entire world was going to flip on its side from that moment on. And after days of thinking, of going back and forth, you decided you were going to do the very same to Jake's. 

—

His mouth was on yours before you could breathe in the piney scent of his cologne. A desperate, greedy taking from your lips as he pushed you up against the closest wall of his home. He enveloped you like a man too long deprived. And you would've let him take you; you and everything he needed to feel good again if only your need to tell him your news wasn't so prevalent in your mind. 

"Jake, wait." The words slipped through the sliver of space that broke your kiss. 

He paused but didn't step away. His closeness kept his mouth brushing against yours, breaths mingling.

"What for?" He whispered.

"Because," you began, eyes slowly grazing up the length of his face until they met the heated stare of his green irises. You swallowed. "We have to talk."

In an instant, he ripped himself from your arms, forcing too many steps between you. Every bit of his body altered to match his frown. Eyebrows dipped in the center. Shoulders slumped forward the slightest. Your muscled man somehow shrunk in size and stature within mere moments.

"I did something, didn't I? I couldn't think of what it was, but I knew there had to be a reason," he said. The pain radiating from his form seeped deep into your pores. "You've been avoiding me for three days."

With a sigh, you said, "I know."

There was a sudden shift, and you could see it in him that he expected you to deny it. That maybe you had a decent excuse for your behavior. Too busy. Too stressed. Too tired to spend time with him. It was clear anything would have sufficed to ease his budding anxiety. Anything but the truth you had for him to hear.

"You're here to tell me we're over," he decided. 

The shock of his words kept you silent. It was the last thing you ever imagined he would believe. After all, you had been the one to take the leap that closed the gap between friendship and something more. He slept in your bed as often as you did in his. Your hearts were equally bare before one another, a development only made from your unwillingness to be without him a second longer. Never---you would never end it with him. But you didn't have time to say so before he was grasping your hands tightly in his. 

"Please," he started. There was a catch in his voice. "Please don't end this."

You shook your head. "Jake, you don't understand."

"Then help me. Explain it to me, Honey. Whatever I did—"

"You didn't do anything," you interjected. Then, considering your words, said, "Well, you did, but so did I."

"You?" he questioned with eyes wide. "Honey, what could you have possibly—"

"Jake, I'm pregnant."

He blinked. And blinked again. Lips parted then closed. One of his hands released yours so it could muss his traditionally neat blond locks, then his eyes fell to your stomach. 

"Pregnant." He stated, no hint of a question behind it. "You're pregnant with…with my…?"

You nodded.

The long breath he expelled ended with a small smile that softly curved the delicate line of his mouth. Barely noticeable. Locking his gaze to yours and noticing your uncertainty, he said, "It's alright. We will figure this out, ok? I promise." Fingertips swept across your cheekbone. "I mean, I can—I can be a dad."

Your jaw slackened. "You want it?"

"Our baby?" he asked, a wobble to his tone. His brows rose as the rest of his features fell from heartbreak. "Don't you?"

You could've fallen apart then, right in front of him, to let out the many sobs you'd held in over the last few days. A bout of carefree weeping just from the pure acceptance Jake was showing you and the child you'd made together. 

"You don't." He once again concluded from your silence.

"No, Jake. I do. I swear I do," you said, rubbing the back of your hand over your nose as you sniffled. "I just didn't think you would. I–I wasn't sure."

"Of course I want our baby," he stressed, squeezing your hands again. 

This distress on his face made something in your chest alternate between gentle flutters and vice-like constricting. To have his unexpected support alone was enough to solidify the concealed love you felt for him. But you couldn't ignore how your questioning and insecurity clearly caused him further hurt.

"You say that so easily without even thinking it over."

"There isn't anything for me to think over, Honey," he said. "It's you."

Whether consciously done or not, Jake's fingers tightened the slightest around yours when you untwined them so you could wrap your arms around his neck. You had no intention of pulling away as he'd somehow thought. You just needed him closer,  more firmly against you. You needed the solidity of his form to hold you together.

Pulling him in, you asked, "Do you really think we can do this?"

Jake's hands curled around your waist. "We can do anything."

"Everyone will think we're insane."

"Well," he sighed, then tugged his bottom lip between his teeth and shrugged. "Probably. But this is our family. No one else's." A smile caused lovely crinkles to form at the corners of his eyes before he rested his forehead on yours. "And we can absolutely do this."

"You won't change your mind, right?"

"Never, Honey," he promised. "The two of you are mine."

—

"Are you nervous?"

Your fingers wove through his hair as his ear was resting against your stomach. Listening for any minute sound. Feeling for even the slightest movement.

His attachment to that part of you had grown exponentially since you started showing, and more often than not, his hands, his cheek, his lips were worshiping your lower abdomen.

"Not nervous," he said, looking up at you. "Excited. I want to see our baby."

There was a prickling in the corners of your eyes at his genuine joy. But that was a constant. Tears were common from the moment you found out when you were pregnant. They managed to come more often when Jake proved how much he loved you. And well, when he finally uttered those three words, your cheeks seemed to be damp on the daily. Everything he gave you, all at once, was so wonderfully overwhelming, and you didn't bother holding back.

Jake didn't shame you for it, either; just simply held you and kissed you and thanked you for being his.

"Do you want the doctor to tell us what it's going to be tomorrow?" You asked. 

"They don't have to. I already know."

You chuckled at his smirk, and in your testing tone, said, "Is that so? And what is our child, Lieutenant Seresin?"

"Oh, a girl. Definitely a girl," he said, laying his head back down close to your stomach. "You'll see."

-

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