#i’ve been in the biggest hole and i didn’t feel like drawing anymore until i came across turnipoddity’s post so thank you

[billystoilet]

@turnipoddity’s nurse adam got me GROUNDED

[guiltyasdave]

end game

series masterlist • this is part VII

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

word count: ~3.8k

summary: Heartbreak, an explanation and an epilogue.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), angst, feelings, heartbreak, depression, mention of weight loss, fluff, able-bodied reader, reader has hair, dom!Dave, sub!reader, sir kink, degradation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v (it's never stated in the fic but i headcanon that reader is on birth control), basically free use kink, rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, spit kink, praise kink, Dave is a menace, praise kink, idiots in love, please let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: the biggest thank you to @joelscurls for letting me scream about this again and againnnnn, and reading over my drafts countless times, you’re the best, jess! <3

thank you to @daddy-dins-girl for talking plot holes with me and motivating me to write <3

thank you to everyone who has read and loved this series, i have received sooooo many kind words, feedback and just so much love. i started writing this as a pwp oneshot and the fact that it has turned into my first series ever and one that i had soooo much fun with is wild. i’m incredibly emotional about saying goodbye to my babies, maybe i’ll revisit them when i need to write some kinky shit out of my system haha. i hope that you like the ending that i’ve built for them.

a few words about the plot: i actually have zero clue how the hitman business works (shocker, i know), so some parts of this are purposefully vague in a way that i hope is believable and somewhat realistic. just roll with it, thanks :D

dividers as always by @saradika-graphics 🫶🏻

find my full masterlist here & follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates.

The first week you don’t hear from Dave, you’re confused, but not necessarily worried yet. There have been weeks of silence in the past, though you’ll admit that you had thought that things might be… different now.

Your texts to him stay on delivered, never switching to read. Which has also happened before, especially when he was away on business, but still… The thought that he has gone back to his normal life without sparing as much as a glance back at your time together is nagging at you.

You can still feel his hands on your skin, can still hear him whisper in your ear how beautiful you look, how perfect you are for him. It’s hard to come to terms with the thought that it wasn’t real, that his words and actions didn’t hold the same weight for him that they did for you. Reality has finally caught up to you and it hurts.

When two weeks blend into three weeks and you’ve still heard nothing, you start getting worried. He had said his line of work was dangerous, after all.

Your conversation, still so close and yet a lifetime ago, echoes in your mind. 'Nothing's gonna happen,’ you had said. ‘Not to the girls, not to me. And not to you.’ And not to you. ‘You don’t know that, sweetheart,’ his voice rings through your head. Sweetheart. The word tastes bitter on your tongue and wraps itself around your chest until you feel like you’re choking with it, like you can’t draw breath into your lungs anymore.

Sweetheart.

You don’t know that.

Sweetheart.

You start looking him up online, to find anything that might at least tell you that he’s okay. You don’t want to believe that he would be cruel enough to ghost you, but you barely dare to consider the alternative. You find nothing, no mention of his name, like he doesn’t even exist.

Your calls stay unanswered, your messages stay unread. You find yourself subconsciously checking your texts and your emails countless times a day, catch yourself staring out of your window in the blind hope that he might appear outside. He wouldn’t just leave you like this, would he? Would he?

Days blur into weeks and eventually into months. You’re painfully aware that it’s not healthy, this kind of heartbreak, especially not over a relationship that never even meant anything. If only your heart would understand that.

It was never serious enough that you told any of your friends about it, never wanted to be labeled as the girl that sleeps with married men, never wanted to admit your feelings to someone else when you could barely admit them to yourself. Regardless, even without knowing what exactly was going on, your friends had tried to be there for you, to convince you to go out with them, to cheer you up, but you had turned them down often enough that on this Friday night, your phone stays silent.

It’s better this way. All you want to do is rot away on your couch, staring at the TV with unseeing eyes until it’s an acceptable time to go to bed. Maybe it won’t take you hours of lying in the dark to fall asleep tonight. Maybe it won’t remind you of a different kind of darkness in a different room, a room where the sound of waves against the shore and the deep breaths beside you lulled you to sleep.

You need to get yourself together, your inner voice whispers. Next week, you think. Or the one after that.

A knock on your door shakes you out of your thoughts and you pad over, expecting to be met with the Chinese takeout that you had ordered in hopes of fueling your appetite at least a bit with the prospect of comfort food. Absentmindedly, you note the surprisingly short delivery time. You barely look up as you swing the door open, busy fiddling with your purse to extract a few dollar bills.

After finally managing to pull them out, you face the doorway. A greeting dies in your throat.

Familiar deep brown eyes burn into yours, framed by the face that you wish you’d forget but can’t. The short brown hair, the clean shaven jawline that you can still feel underneath your fingertips, the memory all too fresh in your mind. He looks tired, you think, and instantly scold yourself for knowing him well enough to even notice.

The seconds tick by as you motionlessly stare at him, blinking slowly, your mind running a mile a minute. Why is he here? He can’t be here. Are you making this up? If so, things are far worse than you had thought.

He clears his throat, shifting his weight uncomfortably. It’s probably the least sure of himself that you’ve ever seen him.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his hand twitching like he almost reached out to you but changed his mind. “Can I- can I come in?”

You regard him for a moment longer. The sound of his voice makes him appear more real, and the fog in your head slowly clears. He’s alive. He’s here. In front of your door. Alive and well. Your emotions boil up inside of you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! You think you can just show up here after months and ask if you can come in? I thought you were… I thought…”

Your voice betrays you, breaking at the sharp sting of pain in your chest that you’ve fruitlessly tried to suppress and the feeling of your throat closing up. Tears spill over and you furiously wipe at your cheeks, determined to keep some semblance of dignity.

“I know,” Dave breathes, defeatedly. “I’m so sorry. Please let me explain.” His hand reaches towards you again. You shy away from his touch and an expression of hurt ripples across his face. “Please, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Your voice only trembles a little as you snap at him. After another look at his face, you eventually step aside and jerk your head towards your living area. You briefly think about how messy the place is, for how many weeks you didn’t have it in yourself to clean up. You can’t bring yourself to care. Seeing him walk through your flat again after being so painfully aware of his absence leaves you almost dizzy. You take the opposite ends of your couch, both of your bodies stiff, careful not to touch one another.

“Okay,” you sigh. “Explain.”

So he explains. How he received a call, barely thirty minutes after he stepped into his house, with a mission that was too perfect of an opportunity to pass it up. There had been no time to let you know, the risk too high to use his personal phone once he started working.

He goes back to the persona that took up half of his life for so long, the identity that is no more, the man that fell down a watchtower and was washed away by the sea. Body never found. At least that’s what everyone who knew this man thinks. Everyone who knew him, but not Dave York.

He’s been thorough with it, with the most important mission he’s ever done. There are no loose ends, no one who could trace things back to the real him.

It took longer than he had anticipated and he kept laying low afterwards, until he could be absolutely sure that no one would be looking for him anymore.

He doesn’t think that he’ll ever get rid of the worry, ever stop looking over his shoulder, but rationally, he knows that he did it. He got out.

Then he had talked to Carol, let her know that he wants a divorce. It had been- easy, almost. She didn’t cry, didn’t scream at him, just nodded like she had known this day would come for a long time. He thinks that she almost seemed relieved, in a way.

Your eyes had been glued to his face since he started speaking. Tears are silently running down your cheeks.

“I know that I should have found a way to contact you. I didn’t-” He sighs, running a hand over his face. “I didn’t know what to do. I was so worried that someone would find out about you. I never wanted to hurt you, you have to believe that.” He knows that he looks a mess, that his desperation to make you understand is written all over his features.

Every day that he didn’t call you, he knew that he was hurting you. He tried justifying it with himself, that having you think he left you was better than risking somebody coming after you. It never gave him much comfort.

It’s even worse, now that he sees the damage he had done. You have lost weight, deep circles have formed under your eyes and you move like you’re barely holding yourself together. He saw the panic on your face when he tried reaching for you at the door. No matter what he had done to you in the past, you always sought out the safety of his touch afterwards. Until now.

“Please believe me,” he whispers.

You study his face for what feels like a lifetime. Tears are glistening on your lashes. You look so tired, so defeated that it makes his heart ache.

“You’ve done it?” you finally ask. Your voice is a quiet thing, barely bridging the distance between the two of you. A flicker of hope rings with it. “You’re safe now?”

He nods silently, fighting the urge to gather you in his arms, to promise you that he’ll always be there from now on. A small smile curves your lips upward as you mirror his nod, like you’re trying to let this new reality sink in.

“That’s good,” you murmur.

You lean forward, your fingers tentatively closing around his fist that’s clenched tightly against his thigh.

Hope flickers inside his chest. He can taste the three words that he’s been wanting to say to you for far too long on the tip of his tongue. He’s not going to, not right now, not today. But someday soon, he thinks that he might.

Two years later

“Bye girls, say hi to your mom and Matt from me,” you smile, embracing each of them in a tight hug before they dash out of the door, a jumble of giggles and excited chatter. Dave trails behind them with a grin on his face, pecking your lips and calling out for them to slow down.

Your heart is full, overflowing with love for this family that, against all odds, has become yours. You watch Dave usher his daughters into the car and push the doors closed behind them, the smile still on your lips. As you walk back into the house, your eyes linger on the thin silver band adorning your ring finger.

It’s still new, still an unexpected sight when you catch it on the edge of your periphery. It’s the tangible proof of you being the happiest you’ve ever been.

Things had been rough at first, after Dave came back to you. You understood why he handled the situation the way he did, but it took you a long time to trust that he wouldn’t disappear again. To believe that he left his old life behind, that he chose you. But he did.

You busy yourself with cleaning up the inevitable chaos that having the girls over for Dave’s days with them always creates. It’s not the life that you would have expected yourself to have a few years ago, but right now, it feels like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

A few minutes later, your phone pings with a message from Dave.

Be back in 15. I expect you naked and on your knees waiting by the door.

You bite your lip, heat building inside you with rapid speed. Your phone pings again.

Don’t disappoint me.

Fuck. Wetness is already gathering between your legs as you jump into action.

The car door slamming shut has never sounded so good before. You’re listening intently, catching Dave’s heavy footsteps on the stairs and the jingle of his keys before the door opens beside where you’re kneeling.

You look up at him from your place on the floor, watching the mix of smugness and adoration on his face as he takes in your position. A shudder runs through you and your nipples harden under his demanding gaze. He steps closer, caressing your cheek.

“Such a good girl… my obedient little wife, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” you whimper, the coherent thoughts slowly draining from your brain and craving more of his touch, more of him.

He smiles down at you, his eyes glinting predatorily. You’ve come to know this shift into the darkness since you first met, but it’s more playful these days, not laced with the urgency that possessed him back then. Still, he gets intense, especially after having the girls over forces you to keep things rather tame during those days.

“Show me your ass, face on the ground, come on,” he demands coldly.

You obey without question, turning around and bending forward, pressing your upper body down to the floor and presenting your backside to him. He lands a couple of slaps on your cheeks and you flinch, moaning out softly. Your pussy already feels slick with arousal.

“What do you say?” he asks, rubbing his hand over the heated skin.

“Thank you, sir,” you whisper.

Another slap hits you. “Do you know what you did to deserve this?”

You wrack your brain for a few moments, but come up blank.

“I- no, sir.” Your voice is small and breathy, your body bracing for the impact of his hand again.

He chuckles. “Nothing. I just felt like it.” Another slap. “And you’re mine to do as I please, isn’t that right?” Your thighs are trembling. You’re so wet that it feels like you’re dripping onto the floor.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

“You know what’s the most fucked up about this?” He crouches down beside your face and strokes your cheek softly, smiling down at you. “How much you whore like it.”

He straightens up and heads for the stairs. “Bedroom, come on.”

You don’t even try standing up, knowing that he won’t let you, and crawl behind him, which earns you another chuckle and a “good girl”.

The image of your naked form on your knees behind Dave who hasn’t removed a stitch of clothing sends another bolt of arousal through you. You’re desperate for him to touch you.

He roughly lifts you up and manhandles you onto the bed until you’re spread out underneath him.

“So…” He grabs your wrists and holds them over your head, pressing them into the mattress. “These stay right here, you hear me? Don’t move, or do I have to restrain you?”

You pout at the prospect of not being allowed to put your hands on him, but obediently hold them in place when he eases his grip on you. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

He grins down at you. “I know you will. Got my girl well trained, haven’t I?”

His words make your pussy clench around nothing and your “yes, sir” comes out in a whimper.

He leans in closer, spreading your thighs wider with his body and you force yourself not to buck your hips up against him. The craving for any part of him to touch you, for any kind of friction, is overwhelming.

“Please, sir,” you whisper. Your pleading eyes hold his cold gaze as he’s leaning over you.

“Patience,” he growls. “Open your mouth.” A disapproving click of his tongue. “Wider.”

You part your lips as widely as you can, sticking your tongue out and trying not to squirm against the sheets. He remains motionless for a few seconds, taking in your desperate state with a cruel smirk on his face.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you. Then he tips his head forward and spits into your waiting mouth. The filthy feeling of his saliva coating your tongue and filling your mouth almost drives you insane with want and you groan, shifting against his thick thighs between yours, but to no avail. You wait for his next command, your mouth still wide open, not daring to swallow before he tells you to.

But no command comes. Instead, he reaches up to press two fingers down on your tongue, dipping into your mouth and smearing your combined spit over your face. The silver band on his ring finger is cool against your skin and you shudder, loving the reminder that he’s really, entirely yours.

Your body feels like it’s burning up, your hands are twitching and you’re desperate to move them, to touch him, to do something, but you hold yourself still until he finally tells you to, “swallow, baby.”

He smiles and finds your lips for a surprisingly soft kiss, cupping your face in his hands. “You’re being so good,” he tells you gently. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes,” you smile, chasing his lips when he pulls back, but he tuts at you and you fall back against the bed, huffing out a breath. “Just… please.”

“Patience,” he reminds you, the softness gone as quick as it came. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

You bite your lip, but stay put while he stands up to finally start removing his clothes. He’s agonizingly slow with it, holding your hungry gaze while he unbuttons his shirt in unhurried movements that make you want to tear the clothes off his body yourself.

You drink him in, first the sight of his broad chest and his strong shoulders, then his muscular legs, and finally, making your mouth water and your pussy burn with desire, his cock.

As much as he keeps taunting you, you know him well enough by now to be able to tell that he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him, even when he’s trying to conceal it. He returns to you, sitting back on his haunches and drinking you in, until after what feels like hours, he finally reaches out and swirls his fingers through the wetness between your legs. It’s a barely there touch, but you’re so painfully turned on and sensitive that you let out a gasp.

“So fucking wet,” he marvels and applies the slightest bit of pressure to your clit. It’s enough to make you see stars and you’re sure that he could make you come just from this. But, of course he won’t. He laughs at your reaction and retracts his hand to lean forward instead until he’s on top of you again, your legs spread wide to accommodate him and his cock slides through your folds.

He lowers his head to nip and suck at the skin under your jaw, one hand toying with your breasts and your hardened nipples. Your whole body is buzzing, he’s so close and it’s so much, but it’s not enough, not enough, not enough.

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, peppering your skin with kisses and rocking his hips in small movements that make his cock nudge at your clit over and over.

“F-fuck me, please, I’ll do anything,” you beg, your body still obediently stretched out underneath him with your arms above your head. He nods wordlessly and reaches down to position himself at your soaking entrance.

“Be as loud as you want,” he growls against your neck. “I missed making you scream.”

He bites at your skin at the same time as his thrust into you punches the air from your lungs. You scream, just like he asked, as he hammers into you, his lips still attached to your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin. The sensation of finally being filled by him, of feeling the stinging stretch of the way he forcefully pounds into you is like heaven. You think that you’re talking, crying out a mix of his name and sir and please over and over.

You’re flying towards your climax and judging from his groans, he can already feel you tighten around him.

“Go ahead,” he groans, before you’ve even strung the words to ask for permission together in your mind. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

He pinches your nipple just once and the additional sensation is enough to send you flying, your pussy clenching around his cock and drenching him in your arousal as you scream out his name. It’s pure bliss, and you never want to come down.

“That’s it,” he growls, not slowing his movements, fucking you through the aftershocks until you’re a whining mess beneath him, “that’s my perfect girl, fuck-”

You force your eyes open to smile up at him, taking in the wrecked expression on his face, relishing in the knowledge that you’re the one to make him look like this. You just really wish you could touch him.

“P-please, can I-” you’re breathless, barely able to speak, and jerk your head towards your hands above you.

“Yeah,” he rasps, his thrusts somehow growing even more forceful, “do whatever you want, baby.”

Your hands fly towards his body, touching every inch of his skin that you can reach, nails digging into his back and fingers grasping at his hair, pulling him closer, closer, until he’s everywhere, all you can see, all you can taste, all you can feel.

“Fuck!” he swears, grabbing your shoulders and holding you in place as he’s pounding into you, “give me another one, touch yourself, come on-”

His thrusts are becoming erratic and you know that he’s close to his own climax. It only takes a few swipes of your fingers over your clit until you’re coming again, soaring through the heights of your pleasure, your whole body trembling with your release. Dave’s hips stutter and he comes with a shout, pulsing inside of your fluttering pussy until finally, you both still.

He drops his sweat-slicked forehead against your chest, peppering your skin with kisses and engulfing you in the warmth of his arms. After cleaning you up, he moves your bodies until you’re tucked against his side, one arm thrown across his chest while he holds you close.

You’ll never get tired of the feeling of his naked body against yours, of the way he feels like he was made for you. By now, you can admit that he had always felt like this.

“I love you,” he says, lips moving against your hair.

You press your face deeper into his neck. “I love you.”

It’s easy, now. Words that you say every day.

…and i love YOU, thank you for reading! 🤍 if you liked this, a reblog or a comment would absolutely make my day.

[mercy-burning]

Win Me Back

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: When Reader’s ex-boyfriend comes back to town, he finds a way to make amends— with a little help from her niece.

Category: FLUFF

Warnings: None other than a few swears :)

Word Count: 3k (I barely made the limit, folks, that was hard lol)

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my entry for @homoose ‘s 2k Celebration!! And if this fic seems familiar, that may be because it’s a re-telling of the car-wash scene from Ramona and Beezus 🤭😂 It’s one of my favorite movie scenes of all time, it never fails to make me squeal, and I had SO MUCH FUN writing this!

Also! I tried very hard to find the scene for you to watch incase you haven’t seen the movie, but the ones I did manage to find on YouTube cut out THE BEST PARTS, so I’m sorry 😭 But in case you want to know the ~vibes~ I tried to capture and don’t feel like watching the movie, I made THIS post last night with some dialogue/background from the scene if you’d like to read it! Obviously it’s not required since what I’ve written is quite different, but it is encouraged 😊

I hope you like it!! And if somehow you haven’t followed Moose yet, you should! She’s the sweetest ❤❤❤

***

Y/N found an abundance of upsides to taking neighborhood walks with her niece. For one thing, it gave her a distraction, something to focus on as she made sure eight-year-old Piper wouldn't wander too far from the sidewalk. She found solace in quizzing her on the multiplication table as they made their way around the block, an activity in which Piper enthusiastically flaunted her love of numbers.

It was also nice to stay outside and take in the warm sun and soft rustling of the trees, though every once in a while all of it wasn't enough to keep the memory of Spencer at bay.

After all, it was kind of hard when he was back in town, and after all these years he was reaching out to her like he hadn't broken her heart in the first place.

"You seem sad, Auntie," Piper said, grabbing Y/N's hand as the turned the corner.

Y/N swung their arms together gently, smiling down at her with a tilt of her head. "Why d'you think that, hon?"

Piper gave a little shrug, her ponytail blowing softly behind her. "You don't smile as much. And you always smile when you're with me... And you asked me the same times equation 3 times in a row just now. You're distracted."

Y/N couldn't help the breathy laugh that escaped her. You sound just like Spencer... Instead, she told her, "Aw, I'm sorry, Kiddo. My mind is just in a... confusing place right now. But I'm very happy that you got to come stay with me this weekend, you always brighten my day." She punctuated her sentence with a little boop on Piper's nose, to which she giggled and asked for another math equation.

The two of them continued around the block a few rounds, though on their fourth and final one, Y/N noticed very familiar car parked just outside her house.

Heart jumping into her throat, she stopped in her tracks, and Piper kept going only to be pulled back slightly. The girl turned to her aunt and furrowed her brow. "Auntie, why did we stop?"

"Um... I just wasn't expecting any company today besides you..."

Y/N certainly wasn't ready to discuss everything that was going on with Spencer to anyone, let alone her eight-year-old niece who wouldn't probably understand or care anyway. So she explained it the best way she could, quickly coming up with a plan to avoid him as long as possible.

"See the car parked over there?" Y/N asked, and Piper nodded. "Well, that's an... old friend of mine... And we haven't talked in a long time because we don't really get along anymore. So when we get up to the house, he might try to talk to us, and I'm going to tell him that we're busy."

"He's not mean, is he?"

Sensing Piper's reservations, Y/N reassured her while letting her own contempt for her ex fuel the conversation. "No, but... He broke my heart. And he—"

"Y/N... Hi..."

She nearly jumped, mostly from surprise, but also at the fact that hearing her name coming from his lips and his voice and just him brought back a flood of feelings she'd rather have forgotten. Still, she turned to him and cleared her throat. "Spencer... Hi."

Piper suddenly let go of Y/N's hand, a small scoff escaping her. "Oh. Spencer..."

The two adults turned to look at her with surprise, though it was Spencer who spoke up. "You... know me?"

"Mhm," Piper returned with a nod, crossing her arms. "I heard Mom and Auntie talk about you yesterday, and she says you have a stupid, beautiful face."

"Piper!" Y/N screeched, heat rising to her face. "I... You can't tell people that, I— That's not... I..."

"Oh... I'm sorry, Auntie," the little girl said quietly.

Y/N was fully prepared to dig a hole and stay buried in it forever, and her embarrassment grew even stronger when Spencer spoke up again. "It's okay," he reassured gently, a small laugh sounding from his throat that regrettably gave Y/N butterflies. "You're auntie's definitely right, I do have a stupid face."

Before Y/N could stop the conversation altogether, Piper cut in quickly, being sure to add, "And beautiful."

Spencer's eyes flicked up to Y/N, drawing her in with amusement and charm, a fact which she hated to her core. Because it was working, and that was annoying as hell. "Yep," he said, never taking his eyes off of her. "And beautiful."

And then the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, flashing her the most amused, stupidly perfect smirk.

Piper started talking again, and for the second time that day, Y/N wished she hadn't even said anything at all, keeping this whole situation to herself.

"But we can't talk to you, because you broke Auntie's heart, and we're busy. C'mon, Auntie. Let's go." Piper grabbed Y/N's hand and led her up the rest of sidewalk until they got to the driveway. And even though it might have been childish to completely ignore Spencer as they walked past, not giving him a second glance, quite frankly she was quick to abort the situation as soon as possible.

Unfortunately for her, Spencer was persistent.

They were almost to the steps up to the door when he called out. "Piper! Can I ask you something?"

The little girl turned around, losing grip of Y/N's hand and greeting his gaze without batting an eye. "Sure."

Damn kids and their willingness to be nice to strangers, Y/N grumbled in her head.

"I know... your auntie is an important person to you, right?" Spencer inquired, walking up the driveway with his hands in his front pockets. Y/N swallowed, most certainly not noticing how the sun perfectly highlighted him in a glow that made him look more beautiful than stupid.

Piper nodded.

"Well... She's important to me, too. And I really hurt her feelings, but I want to make it up to her. Would you be kind enough to let me try?"

Damn him, Y/N grumbled yet again. Damn him, damn him, damn him to hell... Why was he so charming?

He'd always known that kids were a soft spot for her, and when they'd dated, they talked a lot about having some of their own  one day. Every time they took a walk in the park and they passed a kid, they always gravitated to Spencer, giving him the biggest smiles, and in turn he would give them a high five or perform a little magic trick to make them smile even wider. And Y/N melted into a damn puddle every time.

He knew exactly what he was doing, using Piper as a means to win her back, but even still, she knew that because of his gentle nature, most of it was... well, nature. Deep down, as much as she hated to admit it, she knew that he was a kind person. They may have ended things on bad terms, sure, and Y/N could pretend he was cruel all she wanted— The truth was that no matter how their relationship ended, he was a good man at heart.

And that's why it hurt so much.

Y/N thought for sure Piper would fall into his web, but she was pleasantly surprised when the girl responded with, "I don't know... I don't know if I trust you yet."

You and me both, Kiddo, Y/N thought to herself.

Spencer laughed again. "That's fair. Look, you can say no, but... How about I give you something in return?"

"Spencer, that's no—"

Piper crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, interrupting Y/N before she could finish protesting. "How much we talking?"

"Piper!"

"Well, I was going to offer to show you a magic trick, but I suppose I could work you a deal... I only have a hundred bucks on me, would that be enough?"

Sure enough, Spencer pulled a one-hundred dollar bill from his pocket, and the young girl's eyes went wide. Y/N's did, too, but more likely than not it wasn't a means of excitement.

"You have yourself a deal!" Piper squealed with a jump. She ran over to take the money, meanwhile Spencer looked up at Y/N with a smile.

She didn't return it.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked softly. Kindly.

"Well, I'm babysitting Piper today, so you'll have to come back another time," she returned a little coldly, hoping that she and Piper had just scored a free Benjamin to pig out on ice cream while Spencer was left waiting forever for a conversation that was never going to happen.

Funny how eight-year-olds always had a way of making things more difficult for you.

"Auntie, Spencer and I made a deal. He gave me money, and now he has to make it up to you. Remember?"

Y/N groaned. "Yeah, yeah, I remember..."

"Well, how about I... take you guys out for lunch? My treat? If it's alright, we can go to McDonald's..."

"The one with the play place?" Piper gasped, immediately turning to Y/N. "Oh, Auntie, please can we go? Please, please, please?"

She looked up at Spencer, shaking her head in exasperation as he smiled at her, those sparkling honey eyes reeling her in whether she wanted them to or not. Then she turned to Piper and sighed.

"How fast do you think you can eat?"

***

Y/N was surprised Spencer didn't try to talk to her more on the drive over. Though, Piper did most of the talking, telling Spencer about how much she loved numbers and math, and he even quizzed her on some multiplication equations on the way.

If she wasn't so annoyed with him, Y/N would have melted completely.

It was the getting into the restaurant that worried her the most, though. She knew that once Piper ran off to play while they waited for their food, he would spend whatever short amount of time he had trying to win her back. And she was afraid of two things, mostly that she would end up crying in the restaurant, making a scene and wishing she'd never agreed to go, no matter how heart-broken Piper might have been. But there was also a small part of her, nestled deep into her heart, that was afraid she'd fall for him all over again.

He certainly made falling easy.

When the three of them stepped into the restaurant, it was easy to see how excited Piper was to be there. She gently tugged on Y/N's sleeve before looking up at her. "Nuggets, fries, and Sprite?"

"Apples, too, and you've got yourself a deal," Y/N said.

Piper nodded, not really caring but eager to go and play. So she sighed and nodded, leaving her with a, "Be careful!" as she saw the girl quick-walk over to the play area. There was a decent crowd that day, but thankfully no one in the restaurant seemed to have any grievances or knacks for trouble.

Spencer on the other hand... Y/N scoffed to herself, thinking how he was the most troublesome person in the area.

He proved her point by nudging her with his elbow. "She's a fun one."

"Yeah, she's somethin' alright," Y/N grumbled. "I can't believe you bribed her just to talk to me... If I didn't know better, I'd have thought you were being romantic. But I do know better, and you're just stubborn."

Spencer laughed, but she refused to look at him. "Aw, come on, give me some credit. You know I can be a little of both."

This time Y/N did look at him, squinting in a glare, like she was contemplating. "Eh... five to ninety-five. Leaning in favor of stubborn, of course."

"Obviously." The amusement in his voice made her hate his stupid, beautiful face even more than usual.

Thankfully he kept the conversation short after that, at least until they ordered. Since it was Spencer's treat, she milked his wallet for as much as she could afford to on fast-food. She ordered a large chocolate milkshake and enough food for her and Piper to share for dinner later— and probably lunch the next day, too. The amused chuckle Spencer let out as she was ordering did have her believing maybe she was being a bit childish. But the longer she thought about it, the more she stood by her actions.

He did break her heart after all. The least he could do was compensate through chicken nuggets and French fries.

The only thing she didn't count on, though, was how long it was going to take to make all her food, not to mention getting things done for other people. As she and Spencer made their way to the table, she realized she'd have to talk with him longer.

Spencer took advantage of this, naturally.

"So... How've you been?"

Y/N scoffed. "You show up out of the blue five years after you break up with me, and then have the nerve to ask me how I've been, in a McDonald's? Yeah, I've been great."

He sighed, his eyes flitting down to the table. "I know, I'm... I'm sorry. And I know I should have—"

"Spence, please don't... Look, I know... I know why we broke up, and I came to terms with the fact that your job was just to dangerous for us to be together, but... I mean, you weren't even willing to work it out, you just... ran away. That hurt."

"Y/N... I'm so, so sorry that it happened that way. I think about it almost every day and how much I wish I could have changed it..."

"But you can't change it. And now you... you show up here after all this time to—to what? Win me back? Use your kindness and your charm to reel me back in, like that'll somehow make everything better?"

He looked up at her through his eyelashes, the sight almost breaking her. "Maybe..."

"It's not that I don't appreciate the thought, Spence, because I do... I've dreamt about the day you'd come back and apologize, begging me to take you back... But I can't get hurt again. And you have to understand that."

"I do... Just..." His hands reached out across the table, gently touching hers. The feeling sparked something in her, something nostalgic and warm...

Something that felt a lot like home.

He was going to continue his speech, but a knock on the glass separating them from the playroom on the other side jolted them apart. It was Piper, a stern look on her face. "Don't try anything, Mister... You're still on thin ice."

She turned away then, running back to the slide when Spencer sighed. "I thought we had a deal."

Y/N laughed, nodding at Piper through the glass. "Even a hundred bucks and free food isn't enough to win someone's trust." Spencer looked over at her and waited, visibly swallowing. But Y/N flashed the smallest of smiles before finishing, speaking quietly, yet with all the truth and firmness in the world. "You have to work harder than that."

"Duly noted," Spencer replied, his gaze never straying from hers. "Looks like me and my stupid, beautiful face have some work to do."

Y/N rolled her eyes, leaning back in the chair as Spencer grinned like a fool... A stupid, beautiful fool. "Oh, alright... You know what... If you weren't paying for my mountains of food and giving me a ride home, that thin ice you're on would have just shattered under the weight of that comment."

"Oh, come on, it was funny."

"No, it really wasn't."

"Yeah, it was."

He stared at her, smiling until her forced frown slowly and reluctantly transformed into a smile of her own.

***

"Thank you for lunch, Spencer! And for the hundred dollars!" Piper skipped past him and up the driveway, stopping to turn and wave with her Happy Meal toy in hand. Y/N was carrying a bag of leftover food and half a milkshake, her stomach already regretting every choice she'd ever made.

"You're welcome, Piper," Spencer said, smiling at the girl. "And thank you for letting me get a chance to set things right with your auntie. You really helped me out today, I appreciate it."

"Sure thing. Just don't break her heart again, or I'll break your stupid, beautiful face. It'll turn into a stupid, ugly face then."

Y/N mentally face-palmed herself, turning to Piper and telling her to go inside and wash up. The girl gave Spencer one final wave and a smile as she did so, leaving the adults alone once again.

"Thank you..." he said quietly, shifting on his feet. "For giving me a chance. I really want to make things right with us... Make up for the way I hurt you, and... try harder. You deserve that much."

Years of heartache and trying to get over him begged Y/N not to believe it, but deep down she knew he was being truthful. He wasn't the type of guy to come around like this—especially with all the work travel he did—just to manipulate her into heartache again, with empty promises and hurtful intent.

She knew he was really willing to try to make things right, and that was a big start.

"Thank you... for saying that... And for making Piper's day. I know you didn't really mean to bribe her, but the fact that you did it anyway is absurd, so... I guess I have to give credit where credit's due."

Spencer laughed, and this time Y/N didn't hate the feeling of the butterflies in her stomach fluttering at the sound. "Well, I'm glad I could at least amuse you today. Does... this mean my romantic to stubborn ratio shifted a little bit?"

Y/N rolled her eyes affectionately, taking a sip of her milkshake. "Hmm... twenty to eighty."

"Still leaning in favor of stubborn, I suppose..."

The smile they shared in that moment felt more like the ones they used to share back then, officially kickstarting the slow, meticulous mending of their love.

"Obviously."

***

TAGS NOT WORKING: @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @reidsconverse @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck

If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment, and I’ll add you

[fanficshiddles]

Tear You To Pieces, Chapter 8

Kelly was almost sick when she saw a pile of bodies right by the front doors of the tower. But when she got closer, she realised it wasn’t just any pile of bodies. It was a statement.

Natasha, Clint, Tony, Pepper, Fury and Bruce. Along with some other SHIELD agents.

‘Oh god, no!’ She sobbed and took a step backwards, her entire body was shaking in fear.

She looked up at the tower and suddenly dread flooded all through her. Her sister…

‘MARIA!’ She screamed and ran into the tower, past the pile of bodies.

The lifts were all broken, the electricity not working anymore. She ran as fast as she could up the stairs, taking three at a time where possible. She was out of breath and her legs burned in agony, but she couldn’t stop. She needed to try and reach her before he did.

Even if it was eerily quiet now, except for the sounds of sirens outside the tower…

She passed some more bodies in the stairwell, it broke her heart with each one she passed. The guilt was horrible, building up within her. She couldn’t believe she had been so foolish and trusted him, believed that he had changed.

Anger rushed through her as well as sadness and guilt, but she needed to concentrate and just find Maria. But when she finally got to the top floor, she went straight to the control room where her sister normally was. There was no sign of her. Just some dead bodies hunched over the controls…

After checking her room, still she had no luck. The corridors and rooms were all falling apart. Holes in the walls and roof, lightings and wires hanging out everywhere, the place was a complete mess.

Rushing into the common room, the cold wind breezed in and made her shiver. The large glass windows were all shattered, leaving no protection from the cold.

She felt a lump in her throat when she saw Steve lying dead, his costume torn. His shield was nowhere to be seen. Loki had killed the Avengers…

About to crouch down to Steve, she noticed another body a bit further away. And she let out a wail and a cry, it was her sister.

Slowly, she walked over towards Maria’s body. ‘No, no, no, no.’ She cried as she fell to her knees beside her. She leaned over her sister and tried shaking her shoulders, but there was a huge blow to her head and her eyes were open. She was cold, so cold…

‘NO!’ Kelly screamed as she then pressed her face into Maria’s chest, utterly broken. ‘I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.’ She sobbed into her.

While mourning her sister, she failed to hear Loki coming into the room, cracking bits of glass under his boots.

‘You shouldn’t be here, pet.’ Loki hummed low as he strolled across the room towards her.

She gasped when she saw Loki, and as much as she wanted to cower away from him and run, she didn’t want to leave her sister’s body either. She leaned over her sister more, tears still falling down her face. ‘You… you MONSTER! WHY? Why would you do... THIS?’ She yelled at him bravely, or perhaps foolishly.

Loki smirked as he stepped over Steve’s body without so much as a thought as he continued towards the mortal girl.

‘You should be kneeling before me, thanking me for sparing you.’ He hissed at her, drawing ever closer to her, unhurriedly, but with purpose with his large strides.

She shook her head quickly. ‘No… no! I could never thank you. You used me!’ She screamed at him.

He chuckled darkly. ‘Oh no, I’ve not even begun to use you yet. There is still something you’ve been keeping from me.’

Loki was just a few feet away from her now, with the most menacing look on his face that she had ever seen. It chilled her to the core. She knew she needed to run, she couldn’t let him reach her.

Looking down longingly at her sister for the last time, she scrambled to her feet and attempted to run.

Loki laughed at her. ‘Oh, pet. I thought you’d know by now how much I love to play.’ He growled.

Kelly ran towards the lift, forgetting it was broken. She pushed the buttons in a panic as Loki leisurely strolled towards her, unhurried and looking incredibly menacing with the biggest grin on his face.

Deciding on a different tactic, she made a run back to the stairwell door, doing a big circle past Loki as she most definitely didn’t want to end up anywhere near him.

She heard Loki chuckling darkly as she was almost there, but then suddenly he appeared right on front of her. Blocking her way out. She skidded to a halt, not wanting to run right into him. She backed away, then turned to run but another Loki appeared.

Then another, and another... Until she was surrounded by seven Loki’s, leaving her nowhere else to run. She cried out in fear and fell down to her knees, tucking her head into her arms she cried and prayed that it was all just a horrible nightmare. That she would wake up at any moment and everything would be fine…

‘Kneeling for me already, what a good girl.’ Loki teased as his clones vanished and he approached her.

He reached down and slid his fingers through her hair, seeing her visibly tremble under his touch. Both in fear and still some arousal, he could easily tell. His gentle touch turned rough as he gripped her hair and pulled her head back, so she was forced to look up at him through teary eyes.

‘Aww, come now, pet. It’s me, you don’t need to fear me…’ He hummed and slid his hand down to stroke her cheek softly. ‘Unless you misbehave and are naughty. So, be a good girl and do as you’re told, won’t you?’

Kelly’s lower lip quivered as she hesitantly nodded, not wanting to anger him. She knew his strength and power, that it was pointless to even try and get away from him.

‘Good girl, now get your pretty little ass over to the sofa and get on your hands and knees, bum facing outwards to me.’ He demanded and tilted his head in the direction of said sofa.

Her eyes widened, she didn’t make a move until Loki raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to do as she was told. Not wanting to risk it, she got up on wobbly legs and made her way there. She was barely at the sofa when Loki pushed her down onto it, hurrying her up.

‘We don’t have all day, pet. So don’t waste my time.’ He snarled at her as she tried to get into the position he wanted.

She let out a sob when he grabbed the top of her leggings and yanked them down along with her knickers, down around her thighs.

‘Ohhh, yes. Finally, I will get to claim what is rightfully mine. What you’ve been keeping from me all this time.’ He cooed and, with a surprisingly gentle touch, he caressed her bum first for a moment and then his fingers began to get dangerously close to her cunt.

‘Ple… please, don’t.’ She whimpered as she closed her eyes and hung her head down.

‘No amount of begging will help, pet. I should have taken you a long time ago.’ He said low as he slid his fingers through her folds.

Kelly felt sick at what he was about to do, she had thought and hoped that Loki would be her first time… But not like this, not in this way. Not this Loki.

She was nauseated at herself when she felt her body betraying her from the way his fingers were skilfully sliding up and down, rubbing over her clit that was getting more and more sensitive with every second that passed.

‘Ooo, I think you want this more than you want to admit.’ Loki chuckled. ‘You’re already getting wet, and I’ve barely even begun.’

Loki slid a finger down to her tight opening and he had just started to slowly push into her, making her whine in disagreement, when there was a loud whirring noise from outside. He looked over through the what once was a large window, to see a space ship pulling up outside.

It was some more heroes that had come to try and take down Loki. Kelly felt relief flood through her. But at the same time, more dread. As she knew if The Avengers hadn’t been able to beat him, how could anyone else do it?

Loki snarled angrily at the interruption. He looked down at Kelly, who was still shaking from head to toe and jumping at every little noise from the other heroes that were coming into the building. With a sigh, Loki hauled her up to her feet.

‘I am going to send you to safety, far from here. But you stay exactly where I put you… Because we are far from done here.’ He growled into her ear in warning and narrowed his eyes at her momentarily, then he teleported her away to safety, before going to deal with the low life heroes that had ruined his moment.

-

Kelly let out a yelp as she landed on a hard wooden floor on her bare bum, her leggings and knickers were still down around her thighs. She looked around in alarm, but was slightly relieved to see she was somewhere safe, it was a hotel room.

After getting up and pulling her leggings back up, she rushed over to the window, her eyes widened when she saw London Bridge right outside. Loki really had sent her far away…

But she quickly got her brain working and focusing, there was no way in hell she was going to hang around and wait for him to come get her, to rape her. So she bolted out of the room as quickly as possible, surprised that there was no spell on the door, but highly relieved.

No one cared about her leaving the hotel, the receptionist and everyone else was too busy concentrating on the news with what was going on in New York. But Kelly couldn’t bear to look at the TV, so she ran away, as fast as she possibly could out onto the streets of London.

-

Loki wiped out the second wave of so-called heroes with terrifying ease.

He had the biggest, most wicked grin on his face as he was surrounded by their bodies. The power was surging through him, adrenaline running high. It was the best feeling in the Universe. And he was loving every single second of it.

But this was only the beginning.

Before getting the whole of New York to bow to him, he had something else he needed to deal with first.

Kelly Hill.

He teleported to the hotel room in London where he had placed her. When he arrived in the room, he was displeased to see the bed had not even been sat on. He marched over to the bathroom and flung the door wide open, but she wasn’t there.

Roaring in anger, he stormed out of the room and flung every single door wide open as he passed, shouting her name as he walked down the corridor, causing other poor residents to scream and cower in their rooms in fear. Relief flooding them when he walked on by.

Everyone in the world knew of what he’d done in New York to the Avengers. It was all over the news and in special alerts to everyone’s smartphones.

The receptionist downstairs almost fainted in fear when Loki, enraged, approached her.

‘Room 504. Where is she?’ He snarled at her.

‘I… I… I don’t know… There… was no one… in that room… it’s empty.’ The woman blurted out quickly, shaking from head to toe.

Loki’s nose scrunched up and the vein in his neck was close to bursting as he angrily yelled out and his telekinesis exploded, causing glass to shatter and furniture to fly everywhere. Injuring a few mortals, not that he really cared as he stormed out of the hotel.

He glared up and down the road, but there was no sign of Kelly at all.

[suituuup]

comme une idylle

Beca gets an odd request from a stranger while in Paris

rating: G

word count: 2801

happy birthday @green-eyed-weirdo​  🥰 I hope you like it!

moodboard and beta by the lovely @snowonebutyou

ao3 link

*

“Dude, is this really necessary?”

Stacie hums. “It’s French fashion.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “I feel like if that were true, we would have seen some people wearing it by now. This just screams ‘I’m an American tourist’ to me.”

Stacie ignores her, adjusting the beret over her head as she stands in front of the mirror. “I think I look sexy with this. Very… chic.”

“Great. If you decide to walk around with that and a baguette under your arm I’m going solo on our tour.”

Stacie plucks another beret from the shelf and screws it over Beca’s head. “Aw, you look like Gavroche.”

“Fuck you, dude,” Beca mutters, taking it off and flattening her hair with her palm as she places the hat back in its initial spot. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Stacie points out, and Beca can’t really contradict her.

Once Stacie has finally picked one of those ridiculous hats, they head up the cobblestone street and find themselves a brasserie (one of those restaurants where you can get just a drink or have a full meal) for lunch. It’s pretty hot (a bit too hot for Beca’s taste, but she’s hopefully applied enough sunscreen not to resemble a lobster by the end of the day) in Paris that day, but they find shelter under one of those huge parasols, a gentle breeze sweeping in ever so often as they gaze at the food options.

Melodic giggles draw Beca’s focus away from the badly translated menu and towards two tables over to her left. They belong to a redhead, who just happens to be as radiant as her laughter, and Beca finds herself staring a beat too long, catching Stacie’s attention.

“She’s cute.”

Beca’s cheeks heat up as soon as she realizes she’s been caught, and she looks back at her menu so quickly something in her neck twitches. She clears her throat. “What are you talking about?”

“Aww, you adorable baby bisexual. You should go talk to her. Or buy her a drink.”

“Dude, no,” Beca hisses.

Stacie is silent for a few beats, clearly listening in. “She’s American.”

Beca makes a noncommittal sound. “And?”

Stacie leans over, a smirk curving her lips. “Imagine how romantic it would be, you two meeting in Paris and finding each other again in the States. That’s Nicholas Sparks shit right here.”

Beca finds Stacie’s eyes over the menu. “You seem to have forgotten a slight detail: I don’t know how to talk to women.”

Stacie’s eyes roll skyward. “Maybe you should try.”

The waiter thankfully puts a temporary end to the conversation, and once he’s gone with their orders, Beca sees that so is the redhead and her friend.

“Well, there goes your Parisian romance,” Stacie says, sighing softly.

Beca doesn’t really think about the stranger again, not until the end of the day. Stacie insists on heading to the Eiffel Tower to catch the sunset (and probably take a bunch of pictures for her influencer Instagram account), and Beca ignores her aching feet, feeling like she’s already been complaining a lot today.

“Hi there.”

Beca twists her head to the left to find the stranger from the cafe. Her blue eyes nearly make her stumble. “Um, hi?”

“So this might sound really weird, but I’ve always wanted a romantic picture in front of the Eiffel Tower and my boyfriend just dumped me before this trip and well, I was wondering if you’d pose with me?”

That’s a lot of information in five seconds, and Beca blinks twice in slow succession. “Pose, as in…?”

“As in, kiss me?”

She hears Stacie gasp beside her and doesn’t even want to spare her a glance. Her ears feel like they just caught on fire and her voice is nowhere to be found.

It’s only when Stacie jabs her elbow into her ribs that Beca says something. “I, uh, I-- what?”

Well, close to saying something.

The other woman giggles. “You’re really cute. And I asked if you’d like to take a photo with me.”

“Kissing,” Beca echoes, just to make sure.

The redhead grimaces. “Sorry, you’re totes creeped out. I’ll find someone else.”

“She’ll do it,” Stacie announces before Beca can say anything else.

“What, dude,” Beca interjects.

“If you don’t I will,” Stacie mutters, and that shoves Beca into motion.

“Um yeah, sure,” she tells the stranger. A shaky nod. “I’ll do it.”

“Awes!” She hands Stacie her phone. “My friend Aubrey can take the pic.”

Beca notices the blonde standing off to the side and waves awkwardly before her friend slides her hand into hers and tugs her forward. Beca’s heart starts to race a little as they come to a stop at the top of the stairs splaying out over the Trocadero gardens.

“Wait, what’s your name?” The stranger asks, seemingly as an afterthought.

“Um, Beca,” Beca says.

“Nice to meet you, Beca. I’m Chloe.”

Beca nods, tongue poking out to wet her lips. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. So um,” she wipes her hands over her jeans. “How should we…”

“I’ll just kiss you now,” Chloe says, amusement clear in her tone.

Beca wants to dig herself a hole. But that thought vanishes as soon as Chloe starts leaning in, and her eyes slam shut the moment those soft, full lips brush against hers in a gentle kiss. She hears herself humming as her head tilts forward to chase the remaining distance between them, pushing a firmer kiss against Chloe’s mouth. It’s Chloe’s turn to make a sound this time, and Beca nearly forgets her own name.

She instantly forgets about the photo, and the fact that Chloe is a stranger, too caught up in how good this feels to really care. She does, however, come to her senses when she starts to lack oxygen and pulls away with a sheepish smile, her cheeks flaming.

“Damn…” Chloe murmurs, eyes alight. “I picked well.”

Beca clears her throat and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, avoiding her eyes. “Glad I could be of service,” she mumbles with an awkward salute.

(yes, yes, a goddamn salute because she’s a fucking dork.)

Chloe giggles and Beca suddenly feels high on the sound. “Too bad my friend and I have to leave tonight. I could have definitely gone for an encore performance.”

Beca isn’t sure how redder her face can get before it matches the shade of her plaid shirt. “That’s uh, too bad.”

“Well thanks for doing it for me,” Chloe says with a wink, then kisses her cheek. “Bye, Beca.”

“Bye,” Beca murmurs, somewhat still in a kiss-induced daze as she watches her go.

“Holy crap, dude,” Stacie says when she catches up with her. “You totally made out with her.”

Beca chuckles, rubbing the back of her neck. “We um, got carried away?”

Stacie punches her arm. “Tell me you got her number.”

Beca shakes her head. “She probably lives like, in LA or something.”

“Oh my god, you’re such an idiot.”

Beca has to agree; she’s the biggest idiot in the world.

The rest of their trip goes smoothly. Beca only has to listen to Stacie having sex once, which is a wonder, considering it’s Stacie, and the two fly back to New York at the end of the week, heads filled with good memories of their trip abroad.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t ask for her number,” Stacie says as they walk out of the arrival gate at JFK.

“Oh my god, would you let it go?” Beca groans, tilting her head back.

“She was so hot.”

“I know,” Beca whines. “But I won’t find her again so let’s just not talk about it anymore.”

“Fine.”

It’s a few days later, as she’s aimlessly scrolling through TikTok as she does every night before bed, that Beca sees it. She almost scrolls past it because ugh, couples, but the yellow summer dress and red hair catch her attention and have her sitting up with a jolt. Her breathes hitches in her throat as she reads the caption:

I hope this cute girl I met in Paris and asked for a pic of us kissing so I could pretend I had a romantic time in France sees this so I can take her out on a date

The video blew up, counting over a million likes and fifteen thousand comments. Her trembling thumb presses on the comment section.

Okay, TikTok, do your thing, we need to find this girl!!

Omg they’re so cute

Imagine they find each other!!

Beca swallows, licking her suddenly dry lips. “Imagine…” she breathes out as she presses on Chloe’s profile picture, hits follow, and then taps Message.

Hey, so… it’s Beca. The girl from Paris?

She locks her phone right after hitting send and buries her face in her palms, emitting a low groan. Her phone pinging less than a minute later makes her heart pound against her ribs. She reaches for it and peeks at the screen with one eye.

omg, hi!! it’s really you?

She figures maybe a few people have sent Chloe a message because hello, who wouldn’t, pretending it was her. So Beca thinks proving it is really her could be a good thing.

If by me you mean the dork who freaking saluted you after our kiss, yep that’s me.

Beca bites down on her bottom lip as she watches the three dots pop up on the screen.

I can’t believe it worked! I’ve been thinking about you a lot since that day.

Butterflies go off in her belly, and before Beca can ponder on how cheesy this is, she’s typing something back.

Me too. That was um, a really good kiss. And you’re pretty.

Oh god, I’m facepalming so hard right now. Sorry I… don’t really know how to talk to girls.

To her surprise, Chloe doesn’t seem put off by it.

You’re very cute. May I ask where you live?

Beca doesn’t want to get her hopes up, because the States are fucking huge, and she doesn’t see herself jumping into a long-distance whatever.

NYC. You?

I go to vet school in Ithaca.

Ithaca. Beca knows it’s in the state, but she googles how close just to make sure. Another message from Chloe comes through.

I’m usually in the city once a month since my best friend lives there. Would you… like to go out on a date when I’m around?

“Dude, chill out,” she mutters to herself when she feels a wave of warmth encompass her entire being.

Sure, yeah. I’d like that.

They exchange numbers and end up texting for most of the evening until Chloe announces she has to head to bed because she has an early lecture the following morning.

Beca is about to turn off the lights too, that idiotic smile still stuck to her lips, when her phone buzzes with a text message from Stacie.

DUDE!!! Watch this NOW

A TikTok link follows, and Beca knows what it is before she even opens it.

Wow. This really blew up, huh.

Stacie’s reply comes through less than five seconds later. That’s all you have to say?! Tell me you’re going to message her. I got dibs on Maid of Honor at your wedding, btw.

Beca rolls her eyes. She ponders telling Stacie but decides to keep Chloe to herself for a while. I’ll think about it.

She’s a fidgeting mess the morning leading up to their date. Chloe told her to meet her by the River Cafe in Dumbo, and Beca has spent entirely too much time deciding on what to wear, which really never happens.

Chloe is already there when she makes it to the park, and Beca buries her hands into her jacket pockets to keep them from wringing together. Chloe doesn’t see her right away, gazing up at the Brooklyn Bridge instead.

“Do you have a thing for iconic iron monuments?” She teases as she approaches, catching Chloe’s attention. She narrows her eyes playfully. “Are you gonna try and kiss me again?” A gasp flies past her lips as she exaggeratedly lies a hand over her chest. “Are you just using me to go viral on TikTok?”

Chloe giggles. “You’re a dork,” she says, grinning. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Beca breathes out, relaxing her shoulders as she smiles back.

“You like ice cream?” Chloe asks, nodding towards the vendor across the grassy area.

“Sure,” Beca says, and they fall into a step towards it. She takes her brain for something to say before things get awkward, but Chloe beats her to it.

“So what’s it like being a TikTok sensation?”

Beca barks out a laugh. “Amazing. One of my life goals for sure,” she jokes, cutting Chloe an amused glance.

Chloe giggles. “I honestly didn’t think it would blow up. But I’m glad it did ‘cause not finding you would have sucked.”

Beca clears her throat, looking down for a second. “Me too. I was really beating myself up for not asking for your number back in Paris.”

Chloe’s lips curve in a small smile, and she looks like she’s about to say something, but it’s their turn to order.

Ice creams in hand, they settle down on the grass to enjoy them. The weather is nice, not too hot with a gentle breeze rolling by once in a while.

“So what are some of your life goals, then?” Chloe asks once they’ve sat down.

“Making a living out of music is the main one,” she says. “I work as assistant producer right now, but the job is pretty crappy.”

“I may or may not have stalked your Instagram,” Chloe admits next. “You have an amazing voice.”

“Oh,” Beca lets out, feeling her cheeks heat up. “Thanks.” She clears her throat. “You’re into music?” Strangely something that hadn’t come up during their texting.

Chloe nods, smiling. “I was in an acapella group in college.”

Beca’s eyebrows shoot up, and she laughs before she can help herself. “Wait, seriously? You’re an acapella nerd?”

Chloe shoves her shoulder, laughing as well. “Shut up.”

“I guess we all make questionable choices in college, huh?”

Chloe huffs, throwing Beca a glare. Beca spots a sprinkle of amusement in her eyes, so she doesn’t think Chloe is truly mad.

“I’m just messing with you,” she says, softening. “I think any kind of music is neat. And singing without instruments is actually pretty impressive.”

“Thanks,” Chloe says lightly. “There’s just… something about music, you know. It soothes the soul and makes you escape the real world for a few minutes.”

A genuine smile curves Beca’s lips. It’s exactly how she would describe what music does to her. “Yeah.”

She eyes Chloe’s profile, still a little bit struck over the fact that this gorgeous girl is on a date with her.

“What?” Chloe asks with curiosity swirling in her eyes when she catches Beca staring.

Beca blinks. “Nothing. I…” she clears her throat. “You’re just really pretty.” She scrunches up her nose. “See? I’m awkward as fuck.”

Chloe chuckles and slides her hand into Beca’s free one. “I think it’s cute.”

Beca grumbles. “I’m not cute, I’m badass.”

Their time together flies by as they learn more about one another, Beca even managing to convince Chloe to show her some acapella videos. The sun sets without either realizing and the park is near empty, save for a couple strolling by in the distance.

“I should head back to Aubrey’s,” Chloe says when it gets a bit chillier. “I said I’d be home for dinner.”

Beca is a bit disappointed, but she nods, smiling. “Okay.”

She pushes to her feet and helps Chloe to hers, her eyes dropping to Chloe’s lips once they’re both standing.

“You know… I didn’t really care about the video,” Chloe murmurs, stepping closer. “I saw you at the restaurant and thought you were really cute. When I spotted you again later, I had to think of something.”

Beca raises an eyebrow. “I noticed you at the restaurant, too.”

“I know. You weren’t being very subtle.”

Beca huffs. “Shut up.”

Chloe simply laughs, her eyes sweeping down to Beca’s lips before she leans in. Beca is a lot less nervous this time around, and she hums as those familiar lips glide over hers flawlessly, her hands bunching up in Chloe’s top as she holds her waist. It’s over way too soon for her liking, but she has to remind herself they’re in public, and how she’ll probably get to do that again very soon.

“See you soon?” Chloe murmurs when they part, brushing her nose against Beca’s.

Beca nods and squeezes her waist. “Yeah.”

With one last kiss, she watches Chloe go in a similar state of a daze as in Paris.

Something tells her this is the start of something amazing.

[tobiosmilktea]

umpah umpah! smau

↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[004] — it’s you!

masterlist | prev. | next

a/n: i wrote this during my psych class cause i was bored,, also this wasn’t proofread lol

by the time iwaizumi gets home after long days at work, he would usually knock out like a light after dinner and a bath, but tonight he had more energy than anticipated. and if he was being completely honest, he was not expecting himself to be spending the rest of his night reading a random webtoon. hell, he wasn’t even planning on reading it in the first place, but his boredom got the best of him.

a sigh escapes him as he settles at his desk, finger hovering over the lime green webtoon app for a brief second before giving in. quickly, he input in his information to create an account and before long he was already bombarded with promotions of many other webtoons until he was met with the biggest one—the love cemetery: soon to become a major motion picture!

that’s it, iwaizumi thought as he clicked on the promotional advert as it redirected him to the webtoon’s table of contents. there, he reread the synopsis over again, peering slightly at its contents purely from the plain inkling of familiarity of it all.

the moment he opened the first chapter, he was immediately enticed by the art style and colors. it was as if he was suddenly transported into this world that you have created that the hours had past faster than he had anticipated. the only reason why he even looked up from his phone in the first place was due to that little white box notifying him that his phone was at the cusp dying. iwaizumi’s eyes flickered over to his clock, two in the morning, he read as he let out a sigh. despite wanting to read more of the webtoon, he knew he was going to regret staying up. never mind the fact that he needed to go into work early and even hesitating to close his phone was a good enough reason to force himself to stop.

no wonder bokuto was obsessed.

iwaizumi’s thumb hovered over the author’s handle then, “dddeities?” he whispers to himself before swiftly pressing on the link.

it was then did his familiarity was suddenly confirmed. the moment the link took him to the webtoon author’s twitter account, iwaizumi recognized your name and face within a snap. a lump formed in his throat.

he wasn’t sure what really came over him as the obvious fatigue in his eyes was nowhere to be seen. grabbing his laptop from his desk, his fingers quickly typed away on his keyboard to search up your name on youtube. once the videos loaded in, iwaizumi found himself hesitating again as the first video that was at the top of the list had your smiling face. it still had his heart thumping in his chest even after all these years.

you looked amazing and the fact the interview had just been uploaded a few hours ago had him feeling shy for a brief second. iwaizumi scoffs at himself before shaking his head, “fuck it,” he mutters to himself before clicking on the video. it wasn’t like you, his first love and ex would ever find out he had ever read your webtoon.

“hey, my name is (y/l/n) (y/n) aka dddeities and i’m the author of the webtoon, love cemetery,” your voice softly emitted from iwaizumi’s laptop at a low volume. “today i was invited by webtoon themselves to answer some of your questions you have asked me!”

iwaizumi couldn’t remember the last time he had heard your voice. it was strange hearing it after so long now that you’ve matured since the last time he had seen you—from your looks to the way you dressed, a lot of things changed. granted, you both weren’t fifteen anymore.

“the first question is from seonshines who asked, ��how does it feel to be able to be part of love cemetery’s film production?’’ you read off the slip of paper before discarding it off to the side, “it’s genuinely a dream come true! i’ve never expected love cemetery to be popular enough to even become a film, but considering how a lot of live actions tend to flop whenever the original creator isn’t part of production, i’m really excited for this project and i have high expectations.”

still as eloquent as usual, iwaizumi thought as he didn’t even notice the smile that was melting upon his expression the more he admired you.

you grab another question from a bowl, “from iloveddd, they asked: how do you plan your webtoons? …well when i first got the idea for love cemetery, i just started plotting it out on a piece of paper. it was initially only me who started drawing, coloring, and publishing each chapter, but once it started picking up a bit, my best friend murakami kaori started co-writing it.”

“kaori?” the familiar name slipped out of iwaizumi’s lips. “i remember her,” how could he forget the girl who got you and him together in the first place?

“overall, she’s mainly the one that keeps the story a bit more interesting while another member of my team, akaashi keiji, is my editor. he’s very meticulous and knows whenever there’s a plot hole somewhere so he’s often part of the writing process as well.” you finished off your answer before continuing to the next one, “this question is from user bokutoxbaisho. they asked ‘did you know that bokuto koutarou of msby black jackals is a big fan of love cemetery?? how do you feel about it??”

hesitance radiated out of you as you awkwardly laughed.

“um...” you trailed out, “i think it’s pretty cool i guess. it’s definitely a shock considering i never thought he would be the kind of guy to be into these types of things.”

iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrowed at this. how would you know? it wasn’t like you were the type to make assumptions about people you didn’t know either. if anything, he found it a bit strange but he shook it off.

“alright the last question is from annaoopsy,” you swiftly changed the subject, “this love triangle trope is honestly one of the best ones i’ve read. it’s really a breath of fresh air for a cliché ,which comes into question, how did you come up with this romance? was it from personal experience in past relationships?”

a chuckle left your lips as you discarded the question with a pink tint appearing lightly on your cheeks.

“let’s just say first loves were a major impact to the creation of this webtoon.”

iwaizumi felt his breath suddenly hitch the moment those words left your mouth. as if a sudden downpour of each and every feeling he felt back then in high school was catching back up to him after years of suppressing them. he swallowed the lump forming in his throat as he slapped his laptop shut, “oh no.”

fun facts! —

kaori was the one who got y/n and iwaizumi together back in middle school after she tricked them into being alone together to get to them to confess

iwaizumi was the one who confessed first since y/n was a shy, art hoe™️ back then lmao

taglist: (comment or send an ask to be added!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @skyguy-peach @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogril @tiredandkindaoverworked @atsunakaashi @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @kaiju-teeth @oh-tapeworm @scrappydaisies @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae @apollochjld

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Ok, so the little line about Marcus being sad that Nush didn’t wear his hoodie gave me thoughts...and thots.

This would definitely be further down the line, maybe they’ve already confessed their feelings to one another but they’re taking their relationship slow, so dates mostly consist of movie nights, dinners at casual places, etc. But one movie night, they fall asleep on Marcus’ couch and he wakes the next morning to Nush coming back from getting them pastries & coffee...in his hoodie. And boy does it do something to him. He’s never felt this way about someone wearing his clothes before; it makes him possessive and all he wants to do is see her in his hoodie and nothing else.

My brain goes two ways on this: heavy make out session where Marcus let’s her know just what seeing her in his clothes does (lots of dirty talk) OR full on dom!Marcus picking her up and putting her on his kitchen counter so he can get his mouth between her legs and telling her what seeing her in his clothes does to him. I can’t decide which I thot I like more!!

These two give me so many thoughts and thots...it might be a slight problem

Please note that this work is not suitable for those under 18. Themes of consensual sex and swearing.

Beta thanks to @yespolkadotkitty ❤️❤️❤️

You think you are possessing me but I’ve got my teeth in you.

Angela Carter 

What could be more coincidental than pouring rain greeting the pair of you as you leave the Prince Charles Cinema’s matinee of Singing in the Rain? The deluge that pours onto the street below invites a bloom of colourful umbrellas twisting and turning through the Soho streets- umbrellas that neither of you had thought to bring despite it being April in London. Enjoying the last few moments of relative warmth and dryness, your eyes flicker between a deep-in-thought Marcus, and the puddles outside those black rimmed glass doors that lie in wait for the pair of you. 

“You are thinking very loudly, Mr Pike,” you remark shaking your head as a wave of consternation washes across his face, “Don’t you dare think about where the nearest shop is to buy an umbrella. It’s barely a ten minute walk to Charing Cross from here.”

Marcus releases a small chuckle as he shuffles his feet embarrassedly, his eyes shifting sideways, “How did you know I was thinking that?”

“At work, when you are questioning people- you’re entirely closed off which you need to be in for our profession but as soon as you go into hometime Marcus, your thoughts and emotions are painted across your face as clear as words on a page.”

A shy boyish grin creeps across his face, “Ok, I am a bit of an open book but you have the ability to read me better than anyone else,” he reluctantly owns, “I kinda wish I was a better liar and could come up with something else on the spot.”

Grabbing his hand tightly, you give it a small squeeze and a tug to let him know that he never needs to lie to you- a gesture that Marcus returns with a gentle kiss upon your forehead. “Come on you, let’s go run between the raindrops and head back South of the river before anyone notices that we came without our passports.” Your eyes sparkle wickedly at him as you raise your finger to your lips pretending to drag him into the silly North/South London divide. 

“Still tickled by your version of the redneck, iced tea, Southern manners versus skyscrapers, yellow cabs and  cold winters”,” he shakes his head slightly.

“My love, there is a lot you don’t get in regards to Britishisms- you still giggle like a teenage boy whenever I mention the word knickers,” you kindly reprimand him, “You’ve not even been here two months yet, give yourself time to realise that our version of pancakes are better than yours!”

You hear a sharp gasp emanating from Marcus in mock hurt as you blaspheme over his favourite food group. Cocking your eyebrow at him, you pause for a moment as you step towards the double doors that lead into roads where the coloured lights bleed across their oily surfaces. Marcus reaches around you to open the door, “I got you. Not letting you walk into doors today.”

It seems as if the moment that the two of you step outside, the heavens truly decide to open upon you, drenching through every layer of clothing right to your bones. Running through the winding streets with your hands tightly wound together, you and Marcus dodge in and out of the sprawling crowds of tourists with their leisurely pace and humongous golf umbrellas. When you are faced with a particularly large group, you split apart with Marcus diving towards a shop but you go too close to the curb when a taxi drives through a massive puddle, sending an icy tsunami over your head. 

You stand there and gasp as the water constricts every blood vessel in your body, the shock coursing through your veins. Blinking the water from your eyelashes, you become aware of two hands bringing warmth back to your cheeks and two brown orbs gazing at you, “Hey, you ok?” Marcus scans your face, worriedly checking you over as he slides his worn leather jacket over your shoulders to try to bring some warmth back into your body.

Brimming with tears of mirth, your eyes crease into tiny crescents until the smile tugging at your lips forms the biggest grin as your whole body roars with laughter, “I don’t think there’s much point in trying to run between the raindrops anymore,” you gasp out between the giggles. 

When you notice that Marcus isn’t laughing, you pause to draw a deeper breath, searching his face for clues. Your heart beats faster and faster as you notice that his eyes are black holes, pulling you towards him until gravity and time cease to exist. Heat rises through the chill of your skin- from your stomach to your throat- as his lips call to yours. When the sensitive skin meets, there isn’t a moment of hesitation to drink each other in as the taste of Marcus silences all of your thoughts.

All of your kisses to this point had been the tentative kisses of a new relationship. The kisses of two broken hearts starting to mend and learning how to allow yourselves to love again. 

But this. This. This was different. 

Marcus withdraws his mouth slightly from you, resting his forehead against yours as his breath dances across your lips, “Wow.”

And then he’s back. Fingers tangled in your hair, lungs forgetting to breathe as without a moment’s hesitation he deepens the kiss, parting your lips and searching for the soft sweetness brought by your tongue. As the moment swiftly intensifies, your hands seek him out as the only solid thing in the swaying world around you. Your fingers seek out the warmth of his skin beneath his drenched Henley. You feel him. All of him presses against you so that you can inhale the woody scent of his aftershave, the citrus notes of his shampoo and that smell that is just so utterly Marcus. 

“So beautiful,” he whispers against your now swollen lips. His words ground you, placing a solid surface beneath your feet before he sweeps you away again. 

The kisses eventually slow, becoming infinitely more tender than the raw need that pulses between you both. You are breathless, dazed and needing so much more. Your body aches for more than the Soho streets can offer you, confident in the knowledge that Marcus feels the same as you feel his powerful body tremble like yours. All that exists in this moment is feeling, wanting and needing each other. 

A half growl, half moan comes from the back of Marcus’ throat as he finally breaks the kiss, “I have to get you home before I take you right here.”

Heart still racing, you just about manage to form words but your lust-filled brain mangles them making you feel drunk and slurred, “Whose home?”

“Mine. S’closer,” he murmurs into your mouth, “Don’t wanna be arrested for acts of indecency. Right now, everything I wanna do to you, falls into that category.”

It takes all you can muster, hearing that admission spill from his lips. All the willpower in the world, not to just find a darkened doorway and just take him there. 

His fingers find yours again, peeling your hands away from the soft skin under his t-shirt-  intertwining in undoable knots- but your bodies still press together as if you cannot bear to separate yet. You both take a moment to catch your breath, the rain still falling upon you in some heavenly benediction- mouths twitching into grins as your breathing relaxes and slows to a pace that allows for thoughts to re-enter your mind. 

Marcus is the one to break the bodily contact, turning to one side, dropping one of your hands to start walking towards the station. You catch a slightly confused look on his face, “Not sure where the station is, are you? Come on, I’ll let you take the lead when you know where you are a bit better,” you snigger with a saucy wink in his direction. 

As you go to walk away from him, he pulls you in closer and rumbles deeply in your ear, “You know I don’t have a problem with you taking the lead.”

The tone of his voice echoes through your skin, setting fireworks off through every synapse in your body and oh how it gladdens you to realise that he needs you as much as you want him. 

✪✪✪✪✪

The journey home has been one of not daring to look at or touch each other too much. Sitting next to him on the train, your thighs leaning into each other, you both desperately try to focus on messing around with your phones. Him showing you various forthcoming art exhibitions in town and you showing him silly TikToks sent by your nieces and nephews of dogs being dubbed with computerised voices, giving their thoughts on cats and other dog breeds. Anything to take your minds off what you’d actually like to do with each other.

As the train pulls into the station, you pull him up from his seat and head towards the exit. Tapping out at the ticket barrier, you turn towards Marcus, going up on tiptoes to place a small chaste kiss upon his lips, “I’m popping to Sainsburys to grab some wine as I think we finished that bottle on Wednesday, didn’t we? Do you need anything else while I’m there?”

“Sweetheart, I can’t let you do that,” Marcus tries pleading with you.

“I cannot get any wetter than I am at this moment in time,” you implore before pausing as Marcus raises his eyebrows at you, licking his lower lip, stepping closer to close the minutismal space between yourselves.

“Quit  making me stand in the rain, thinking impure thoughts,” he groans.

You push the heel of your hand into his chest, “Then go upstairs, run me a bath and find something dry for me to put on, then you can have your wicked way with me.”

Putting his hands on your hips and dipping his head to playfully nip at your neck, Marcus gives in as his lips mutter into your skin, “Ok, be quick. I’ll order some pizza and ice cream ready for you getting out of the bath.”

Your eyes roll back in your head and you release a satisfied groan at the thought of a warm bath and pizza. Especially that beauty of a bath in Marcus’ apartment where you can actually stretch out and entirely submerge yourself beneath the hot soapy water. You remove Marcus’s hands from your sides and turn towards the small store with its bright fluorescent lights blaring out at you through the plate glass storefront. As you go to step inside, you turn your head and see that Marcus has turned at the same time with that look in his eyes again. With a small wave and a grin, you step inside to find snacks and wine, not entirely sure that they would be necessary this evening.

✪✪✪✪✪

Bottles clink and packets of Haribo rustle from within your bags as you walk up to Marcus’ front door. You give the bottom section of wood a small thud from your boot, to which it opens with a significantly dryer Marcus, who takes the bags from you before ushering you in. As the warmth of his flat encircles you, you release a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

“Strip,” his firm, familiar baritone commands, holding an arm out for your soaking clothes, “Your bath is run and I’ve left you some clothes on my bed. You’d left a pair of panties from the last time you stayed over- I’ve washed those so they’re in the pile too.”

Peeling back the layers of clothing that had been so utterly useless against the torrential rain and draping them over Marcus’ arms- tiny droplets dripping onto his hardwood flooring, you soon stand there completely naked. Tossing your clothes in the general direction of his washing machine, he gently guides you with his warm hand placed in the small of your back towards the bath, which true to his word, is full, bubbly and welcoming. 

As you step in, you look over towards Marcus inviting him in with your eyes. 

With a small shake of his head, Marcus turns to leave you to soak. The quietude envelops you, so much that you are barely able to hear Marcus padding softly around outside this sanctuary. You lie back allowing the water to cover your ears- a complete sensory deprivation when your eyes draw shut too. Images that swirl with the heavenly taste and scent of Marcus, his velvet touch and the sound of his voice dance behind your closed lids as you allow the water to wash away London pollution and puddle water. 

✪✪✪✪✪

Having reheated your body enough, the bath water turning tepid, you clamber out onto the deliciously soft bath mat that you know Andy picked out prior to Marcus’ arrival. Wrapping one of the towels Marcus has left out for you around your body and the other around your hair, you walk into his impeccably neat bedroom. Bed made, clothes ironed, folded and put away- the polar opposite of yours. Even the pile of clothes with your knickers on top, is neat. 

The morning after the night when Marcus had first stayed over at yours and needed an iron for his shirt, you’d barely been able to locate in your memory where you’d last seen it- pointing him in the direction of the cupboard of doom- the place where half-baked ideas and good intentions go to die.. Everything is generally haphazard and a little topsy-turvy about you but Marcus, his sense of order calms your busy brain and you are noticing it rub off on you. 

You hang your coat up on the hooks that you’d drilled in when you’d first bought your flat but never used until a month ago. You only now have one hanging chair, rather than utilising every surface available. You also attempt to only buy one bagged salad each week instead of pretending that you will eat more greens but then them definitely losing that green tone, fading into a brown slush before you remember their existence in that pathetic salad drawer. 

Pulling up your knickers and sitting, no- sinking into the glorious mattress of Marcus’ bed, you haul the t-shirt over your head and shrug your arms into the sleeves of the hoodie before zipping it up at the front. You smile at a flicker of a memory where Jasper had moaned at you for stretching out his hoodies with your woman boobs. You also find it very sweet that Marcus honestly thinks that his shorts will fit over your thighs and hips so you leave them on the bed, choosing to leave the room in just the hoodie, t-shirt and underwear- albeit just on your bottom half as your bra was utterly soaked too and was probably going through his washing machine. That poor underwire! Nevermind, perhaps it’s time for something a little less utilitarian and a little more sexy.

Softly padding out from his bedroom, you spy Marcus’ broad back twisting in the kitchen as he seeks out plates and glasses in the cupboards. Pizza boxes lie on the side, their contents sweating condensation on the table below.

“I’m finally decent,” you declare with a flourish as you bounce into the kitchen, almost bounding directly into his chest. 

Marcus spins at the sound of your voice, making sure to catch and steady you after your clumsy entrance, “No. You are very wrong there,” his breath hitching as he rumbles deeply into the shell of your ear, “No way. You could never be classified as decent, not looking like this.”

Another step and a slight twist of your body, and Marcus has your hips pinned against the cupboard. He places his hands either side of you, trapping you between the carpentry and the solid wall of him, his dark eyes flashing with lust as you feel him memorising every detail of you. 

“Talk to me, Marcus,” you ask of him, running your fingers through his dark curls, “Tell me what’s going on.”

“You sure you wanna know?” he questions, stroking his fingers down the side of you, the sensation causing you to twitch under its tenderness. 

“I want you to tell me everything,” you demand unblinkingly. Desperate for Marcus to finally tell you what he wants rather than constantly looking to please and pleasure you.

“Ok,” You see Marcus nod, his bottom lip slightly trembling, “It takes a superhuman feat of strength not to call you into my office everyday and fucking rail you right there into my desk, in front of everyone.”

Holy fuck, Marcus. Let it go.

“Monday, when we were working late and you grabbed my jacket to throw over your shoulders? Seeing how the shoulders swamped yours, there was... There was just this moment when I wanted to run my hands up that skirt, rip your panties off, slide into you and bite your neck, leaving marks for everyone to know you’re mine. I just wanted to possess every part of you and all because of you wearing something that’s mine. 

“When we’re walking around galleries or sitting in cinemas together, it is all I can do to not find a cupboard to push you into or take advantage of the lowlights.I just want you to be mine all the time. I want to be surrounded by your scent- your hair, your perfume and your cunt -  they’re this drug that I can’t get enough of. When you wear my clothes, they smell of you - makes me want to possess every part of you. I need all of you to belong to me.” 

Your heart thuds in your chest as you allow Marcus’ primal growl to fill you with a searing heat that burns through the very depths of you.

“And now. Right now? Seeing you now in my hoodie and just your panties is so fucking tempting- so don’t you dare give me that comment that you are decent now.” 

His hands finally move from their position on the counter to your hips as he lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist unconsciously. The pizza unceremoniously gets dumped onto the floor as he settles you onto the cool work surface, pulling your hips slightly towards him. Unlocking your calves from around his waist, he pushes your thighs a little further apart, thumbs brushing upon the sensitive skin as he lowers his face so that you can feel his hot breath through the material of your knickers.

He withdraws slightly, pressing his lips in sweet kisses along the inside of your thighs whilst his teeth graze and nip at you, setting off a string of fireworks in your skin. 

“Right now, I want to inhale you. I need to have your scent filling my lungs.”

His nose nuzzles into your lightly clothed slit searching out your sweet heady scent, brushing the damp material back and forth over your sensitive clit making it throb in anticipation. The sensations brought from his nose causes your core to pool around him, the small nudges sending your pulse racing through the roof. 

Very few thoughts are able to exist in your mind other than the way you desperately want to wrap your legs back around him- this time around his head to lock him in place and keep his face glued to your pussy, stopping him from continuing this tantalising teasing. 

“Now? Now, I want to taste you. I want drink that sweet fucking nectar from right here.”

Dipping his head lower, he licks teasingly at the aperture of your cunt, stiffening his tongue slightly to press the material between your folds. Your breath catches in your throat wanting to scream at his slow pace. You hook your thumbs into the elastic of your knickers at your hips, trying to awkwardly shuffle them off. 

Abruptly, he stops. Pulling away from you, moving your hands away from trying to remove your underwear, “No,” he growls, “Leave them on.”

“Do you wanna know why I didn’t sneak those panties back to you at work or any of the other nights I’ve seen you this week?” He raises an eyebrow at you from his crouched position between your legs as you nod helplessly, your heart pounding in your throat, “I’ve been smelling them, thinking of your hot cunt as I rub my cock in the few moments we’re apart.”

Leaning forward, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your bottom and kissing you hard through your knickers, he exclaims joyously, “Ah, honey, I fucking love your smell and taste! Sometimes, I can still smell your juices on my fingers at work and it makes my cock fucking throb, knowing that you are only two steps away from me. Professionalism with you so close is impossible.”

Your pussy throbs and yearns for a consistent touch as he returns his face to between your legs. Resting his forehead against your pubic bone, he returns to burying his nose into the dampest point of the thin fabric. This time, as he drags it upwards, he pulls his tongue stiffly upwards until he reaches that sensitive nub of nerves, catching it between his teeth gently tugging it. 

You swear that every nerve in your body is on fire and nothing exists except you and Marcus. No one has made your body sing like this in its neediness. The rush of wild sensations sweeping across your body are equally thrilling and maddening you.

 Teasing the material to one side of your pussy lips, you watch a smile unfold across Marcus’ face as he gazes upon you. 

Never have you felt so wanted before. 

Then with the same joyous abandon he has shown in kissing your pussy, he throws your thighs over his shoulders before sinking his mouth onto the sweet, bare flesh. The way that his tongue flickers so gracefully across your clit leaves you gasping. That familiar knot of pleasure building deep inside your tummy as he edges ever lower, preparing to tongue fuck you. Licking deeper and deeper into your cunt, you can hear the pleasure spilling from within you onto his tongue and oh how he drinks like a man dying of thirst. 

You cry out in surprise as Marcus encircles his lips around your clit, sucking rhythmically and gently. The scruff of his beard tickling pleasingly the sensitive flesh as he works you towards your release. A guttural groan against your delicate skin is the point that sends you truly spinning over the precipice into pleasure, howling his name into the night air as your thighs tightly clasp him around his ears, his tongue still working you through that blissful high until your body drops every ounce of tension, relaxing into the afterglow. 

When he moves back into softly kissing your thighs, you tug his glistening face towards you with barely a moment of hesitation passing between the two of you. Your lips meet again with the tenderness of an artist’s brushstrokes, Marcus painting the taste of you into your mouth with exquisitely delicious kisses. 

He brings his forehead back to rest against yours again, with a total calmness drifting across his features. You shut your eyes and rest with him, safe. From his lust drenched words to the experienced motions of his tongue, you utterly resign yourself to the truth. 

You have always belonged with Marcus.

 You always will.

@yespolkadotkitty @astroboots @danniburgh @disgruntledspacedad @green-socks @zukoyonce @sirowsky @bison-writes @tardisfangurl @agirllovespancakes @leonieb @mrsparknuts @absurdthirst @pedropascalito @lunaserenade @mouthymandalorian @the-ginger-hedge-witch @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

[sombreboy]

uhgood⇢dom!knj x male reader

I get so hungry, when you say you love me. - Ke$ha, cannibal

⇢18+ ⇢pairing: Namjoon x male reader ⇢genre: pwp smut ⇢word count: 2.9k ⇢warnings: smut, daddykink, babyboy/good boy kink, knj calls you puppy fuckkk yes, praise kink cuz it’s me what’d you expect, anal fingering, spitting, degrading dirty talk, dom/sub play, BDSM themes/shibari, creampie in the ass thats right the good stuff, sounding(cock stuffing/urethral penetration)⇠pls don’t do this without research.

Request by anon: could i request knj x male reader where the reader teases Joon all day and once they’re home he goes hardcore dom on the reader (this is so cliche but as a male reader i am starving) maybe sprinkling in some bdsm and a daddy kink🤲🏽 A/N: I might’ve not gone as hardcore as I initially planned but I kind of love it anyway and it’s my first male reader smut that I’ve written myself and please praise me for doing well ♡ I hope you love it anon.

Namjoon was fuming, you could easily tell.

The two of you had been out running errands, hung out with friends, and throughout the entire day you’d been the biggest fucking brat that Namjoon had ever seen you be, constantly teasing him in various ways. From light touches on his thigh, to deliberately brushing your ass against his crotch in a crowd, to even the less subtle way you ate that god damn cursed popsicle like it was Joon’s cock itself drove your boyfriend closer and closer to madness.

Yeah, Namjoon was fuming. His nostrils were flaring, and his entire body was aching to put you back in your place.

And you? You were thriving, loving how worked up your boyfriend was because of you, hoping this would be enough to drive him over the edge to play with you until you physically couldn’t handle it anymore.

Namjoon was generally a slightly awkward, dimpled sweetheart that wouldn’t even smack a mosquito if he saw one, and your heart was incredibly soft for him in every way possible. But behind closed doors, he was a different man entirely.. His sadistic, dominant persona drowned every piece of your loving boyfriend the second you heard the lock of the front door echo in the hallway.

You yelped when you suddenly felt your entire body being shoved back against the wall, Joon towering over you with one strong hand grasping around your jaw to force you to look at him. His eyes were serious, gracing you with an intense, icy glare, the shape resembling that of a dragon.

‘’Tsk, I bet you had so much fun all day teasing me like that, hm?’’ Namjoon hissed, tightening the grip around your jaw to draw a gasp from your lips before he leaned in to kiss you harshly, biting down on your lower lip to make you whine and squirm underneath him. He pulled back with a mocking chuckle, ‘’You have no right to whine, now, babyboy. It’s time for my kind of fun now... that’s what you wanted all along, no?’’

He was right. So, you nodded.

‘’Speak.’’

‘’I want it, I want you to play with me Joonie..’’

‘’Ah ah,’’ Namjoon wiggled a finger in front of your face, his eyes softening for a mere second as his hot breath fanned your face, ‘’When we play, I am not Joonie. I’m not Namjoon. It’s always Daddy.’’ He kissed you softly once, the sweet Namjoon momentarily peeking through his persona, ‘’Ready to play?’’

‘’Yes daddy.’’ You whisper, already feeling your body heat up in mere anticipation.

‘’Good boy.’’ Namjoon pulls back to start walking towards the bedroom, not even looking back to see if you were following. Of course you did. You followed your boyfriend like a puppy, and you would stick to him even if he guided you through the fires of hell itself.

Namjoon headed towards the chest in the bedroom that contained all of his favorite things; toys to use on you, his little puppy.

‘’Get undressed and lay down.’’ He casually ordered as he rummaged through his tools, not telling you which one he’s gonna use today. By the sound of it, there’s gonna be more than one; which meant he was going to take some extra time to use you today.

Namjoon turned on his heels to approach the bed where you were naked on your back, completely exposed and vulnerable for him to see every inch of your, for now, unblemished skin.

‘’I love you.’’ Namjoon says calmly, his stoic expression contrasting the sweet words, ‘’I warned you.’’ he added, merely a whisper flowing through the quiet room as he circled the bed to stand on the side of it. By now, you knew he was fully immersed in his role as your dom.

There were many reasons to love Namjoon, and one of them was his ability to show little to no mercy in the bedroom. Previous lovers were too soft with you, scared of hurting you. But not Joon, no. He knew exactly what he was doing, carefully planning out and executing whatever the fuck he wanted to do to his perfect plaything.

‘’Your cock is already getting hard,’’ Namjoon snickered as he pursed his lips, reaching out to give the tip of your length a flick of his fingers, earning a needy wince from your expression along with a quiet gasp, ‘’Such a slut.’’

‘’Yes, for you..’’ You whisper, placing your hands above your head to look even more deliciously vulnerable for him.

‘’That’s right. You only see me, nobody else.’’ Namjoon states as he placed his tools on the nightstand, grabbing the shibari ropes to get to work. It was one of his favorites, decorating your body with the red material in precious patterns. It was even better than simple nudity in his own opinion. He tied your wrists above your head, securing you to the headboard bars to make sure you couldn’t move even if you wanted to. He proceeded to bend your legs, spread and knees pressed against your stomach as he made sure you were prettily exposed for his eyes, needy erection growing harder as he jerked the ropes to ensure it was tight-- but not too tight.

‘’Color?’’ He glanced at you to make sure.

‘’Green.’’ 

At your consent, he resumed to take his shirt off, keeping his lower part clothed for the time being. The air in the room grew thicker with the way his eyes were practically devouring your sinful, tied up body.

‘’You’ve wanted my attention all day.’’ He says with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he reached over for his bottle of lube and a small metal rod. Your cock twitched and eyes widened when you saw the little surgical tool in his hand, knowing just exactly what was coming.

Namjoon sat down on the foot of the bed by your exposed ass, perfectly spread and on display for him. Placing the little metal rod on the bed, he decided to start off easy. He spat on your entrance, using the pad of his finger to circle his saliva around the sensitive rim of your opening.

‘’What a pretty little hole you have, puppy.’’ He cooes, the praise making your heart flutter, about to open your mouth to respond-- but nothing but a whiny moan pushed through your lips as Namjoon lubed up his middle finger only to sink it inside of you. ‘’And so tight too, fuck..’’ He groans, feeling your warm, fleshy insides squeeze his digit, working against him as if trying to push him out. But to no avail, he kept pushing his finger inside until he was knuckle deep. Your breath grew heavier, gasping when he wiggled his finger inside of you before withdrawing far enough to where only his fingernail was engulfed by your warmth. He added a second finger, this time having to apply some more strength to force them all the way inside, another groan vibrating in his chest as he does so. ‘’So tight I can’t believe it, how are you gonna take my cock? Fuck..’’ Namjoon foamed at the mouth at the mere thought, he was eager to stuff you full with his cum already; but his patience and desire to properly drive you mad for him was a much higher priority before then. It’d be a reward to simply let you have his cum.

‘’Please, daddy, just fuck me already.’’ You whined, a hint of attitude in your tone as you looked down at your boyfriend. He raised an eyebrow at you from where he was, gaze squinting slightly in annoyance.

‘’I do whatever the fuck I want. Your body is mine to play with,’’ Namjoon scissored his fingers inside of you once, twice before roughly fucking into you, the squelching sounds rivaling the sudden moans he forced out of your throat, ‘’Or would you prefer for me to just leave you untouched for the night? Hm? Is that what you want?!’’

‘’Ah, fuck! No, daddy--’’ Your voice broke as you jerk your arms within the restraints, ‘’I’m sorry, please keep playing with me!’’

As if he wasn’t already.

Namjoon’s wicked smile grew as he kept his rough pace for a little longer until the glide of his fingers worked in and out of your hole with ease. He prodded deeply, brushing the pad of his fingers against your prostate to drive you closer to the edge.

‘’Oh, I’m gonna cum…’’ You cry out, a layer of tears blurring your vision. Another whine in disappointment escaped your lips when Namjoon suddenly pulled his fingers out with a wet ‘pop’, licking your juices off of his hand.

‘’Not yet. You’re too greedy.’’

‘’Daddy, seriously…’’ You pout, earning a stern glare from Namjoon that has your insides stirring. But in reality, both of you enjoyed the small dynamic.

‘’Ungrateful little whore.’’ Namjoon tsk’s as he grabs the small metal rod, warming the material in his hand as he uses his free hand to hold your aching length straight, ‘’And here I was going to make you feel so good. You want this, don’t you?’’ He dangled the small tool, your quick nodding serving as your reply. ‘’That’s what I thought. You’re so kinky, puppy.’’

Says the man with the small piece of metal in his hand, you mused.

Namjoon was patient, holding your cock in his hand until it slowly went flaccid in his hands. It was easier this way, and much more fun. When deemed soft enough, he gently prodded at your urethra with the toy, slowly pushing in inside as his other hand held you still. His eyes flickered between his ministrations and your face, closely keeping track of any sign of pain. He knows it’s bound to bring you some discomfort, but he knew you loved it--and he knew exactly how to do this properly with you. It is an intense feeling, the deeper he pushed the sounder, the tighter your eyebrows were knit together in focus, breathing heavily with the occasional whimper escaping your lips.

Like this, you were truly beautiful in Namjoon’s eyes. So vulnerable and responsive, he felt powerful. This was one of his favorite toys, no doubt. He knew exactly how deep you could take it, going so incredibly slow; the sensitive tissue far too precious to damage. There was no need to go rough, simply move it very, very carefully inside of you, every nerve in your cock responding to the smooth glide.

‘’Oh, yes… Feels good, daddy..’’ Your voice was breathy, your high pitched whimpers made Namjoon’s bulge throb in his pants, leaking precum in his boxers. Fuck, you were delicious.

‘’Such a good boy, you take it so well.’’ Namjoon praised you, another rush of heat and excitement washed over you, a small smile tugging at your lips before your expression morphed into pleasure, lips parting in a loud moan when he gently prodded your prostate again. Your cock grew hard, making it a bit more difficult for him to move the sounder inside of you, and a slight sting in pain as your urethra tightened around the tool.

‘’Ow, too much…’’ You whine, feeling your edging orgasm build up once more, ‘’yellow, yellow…’’

Namjoon slowed down, carefully sliding the metal rod out of you and placing it back on the bed, his eyes admiring your stretched, wet holes.

‘’God, such a pretty man.’’ Namjoon coyly said as he worked to pull his pants down along with his underwear, his thick length sprung up when it was finally set free from the restraints of fabrics, tip red and slick with his precum, ‘’You’ve been a good, good boy. Do you want a reward?’’

‘’I want you, Joo--.. Daddy.’’ You corrected yourself quickly, but with the way he crooked his eyebrow at you, he noticed your slip up.

‘’Close call. I almost would’ve had to punish you for it.’’ Namjoon licked his lips as he crawled on top of you, sitting on his knees between your legs as he rubbed circles on the bulbous head of his cock with his thumb, eyes fixed on your entrance.

‘’Sorry, I’m sorry…’’ You swallowed tightly, voice weak as you wiggled your hips, ‘’Please reward me, I promise I’ll make you feel so good.’’

‘’I don’t doubt it, puppy. Your ass is dripping for me.’’ His lower lip was swollen from biting down on it so much, but the light aching on his mouth was nothing compared to the pleasure he was about to feel. He pumped himself a few more times before moving his hips forward, pushing his swollen head inside of you with ease, ‘’God, you’re so perfect. Made for my cock.’’

‘’Ah..’’ Namjoon drove his hips forward until he was fully nestled inside of your ass, his cock throbbing as he took a moment to adjust to the tightness wrapping around his length, biting back an eager moan at the sensation. He leaned down on top of you, pressing a kiss on your lips before trailing down your neck, bottom lip grazing your unsteady adam’s apple before giving it a light suck to color the skin with a small hickey. ‘’Gonna take my cock like a good boy.’’ Namjoon growled lowly as he started grinding his hips into you, ‘’And you’re gonna make me feel so fucking good.’’ He resumed to litter hickeys down your neck, replacing his soft lips with teeth, biting down to mark your collarbone.

The short, sweet moment didn’t last for very long however, as Namjoon grew greedier from the way your fleshy walls closed in on him. Even after being with you for so long, Namjoon felt himself throbbing from the expressions you’d make as he thrusted into you. 

‘’More, more, daddy please..’’ You cry out breathily, fighting the restraints that are tightly holding your wrists together, a layer of sweat glistening on your torso. You audibly gasp when a particularly hard thrust smacked against your ass.

Your incoherent pleads turned into slurry words with every thrust, Namjoon finally began to give you what you wanted. Faster, harder, more, he slammed his cock into you, low grunts slipping past his teeth.

‘’Squeezing my cock so tight, fuck…’’ Namjoon’s mouth hung open, eyes never wavering from yours as he dug his blunt nails into the skin of your thighs, pressing your knees harder against your chest to allow him to reach even deeper, ‘’Tell me how it feels, babyboy.’’

‘’S-so good, shit, so good… ‘m gonna cum, please don’t stop…!’’ You rambled, head snapping from side to side with your eyes screwed shut. It was overwhelming, how good it felt every single time Namjoon’s cock rubbed and prodded your insides, the lewd, slick sounds of his length being only half way pulled out before he slammed right back in, skin smacking together harder and harder as he grew greedy for your shameless moans.

''I'm gonna cum-- Joonie, I'm-- I won't be able to hold it..'' Your words broke into a moan when Namjoon reached down to engulf your needy cock in his tight grasp, mercilessly pumping it from the very start.

''Gonna cum too, fill your perfect little ass. That's your reward for being such a good boy, making me feel so fuckin' good..'' Namjoon let your slip of using his nickname pass, because he felt his orgasm building up so quickly that nothing else mattered, it was too good, sloppily fucking into you while simultaneously jerking you off. Both of you were moaning, grunting, sweaty messes by now, indulged in the moment of simply feeling, not thinking.

Namjoon let go of your cock the second you came, pathetically throbbing untouched as hot ropes of white pooled at your stomach. A throaty moan erupted from your chest, the sensation so intense when your boyfriend kept driving his cock into you as deep as physically possible.

‘’Fuck yes, so pretty when you cum, such a good boy--’’ Namjoon praised between grunts, hovering above you as he placed his palms adjacent to your head, sweat dripping from his temples. The rhythm in his hips was irregular at this point, no care for keeping a steady pace, but instead to indulge in the pleasure of just fucking you. A few rough thrusts later, you gasp when Namjoon’s cock throbbed heavily inside of you, feeling the hot gushes of cum coating your insides. You deliberately clench around him, drawing a broken moan from Namjoon as he slows down his stuttering hips.

‘’Ah, puppy, you feel fantastic.’’ Namjoon breathed out, leaning down to kiss you softly, still slowly rocking his hips back and forth to ensure he’s given you every single drop of his cum. He pulls back to look at you, his soft dimpled smile growing when you mirrored his expression of joy. He inched closer, stealing another kiss from you before he gets up to untie you.

‘’What do you say now, baby?’’ Namjoon coyly asked as he put away the ropes, crawling into bed next to you to embrace his little good boy in his arms.

‘’Thank you.’’ You scrunch your nose in a small smile, cuddling up against his clammy chest, listening to his still racing heart.

‘’Thank youuu, what?’’ He pouted.

‘’Joonie.’’

‘’Ddaeng.’’ Namjoon sighed, ‘’I wish you’d call me daddy more.’’

‘’Never outside of this room.’’

‘’One day.’’ Namjoon chuckled, pressing a kiss against your sweaty temple.

‘’Oooor not.’’ You countered.

‘’One day.’’ He repeated with confidence, squeezing his arms around you tighter.

As always, they both knew Namjoon always got what he wanted eventually.

It was just a matter of patience.

© sombreboy 2020. Do not edit, repost or translate.

[unfortunatelysirius]

My Cauldron’s Bubbling For You // Remus Lupin x Slytherin! Reader

「 ❁ 」PROMPT 「 ❁ 」 

Y/N L/N loves pranking and she loves flirting. The two go hand in hand. When she starts flirting with Remus… he fears for his life.��

「 ❁ 」AUTHOR’S NOTE 「 ❁ 」

wowowowow I'm on a role huh??? :o 

Remus wasn’t sure when exactly it started.

        From first year to fifth year, Y/N L/N was just a bold, self-assured Slytherin girl who barely gave him or anyone else the time of day. Remus thought she was pretty and sure, admired her confidence, but she wasn’t really part of the crowd he hung around. She had her own—a group of girls from all the houses who liked to joke around and play tricks. Several of Y/N’s friends were flirty and had a tendency to flirt with their victims right before they came in for the kill. Sirius was no exception; he foolishly let them reel him in, then he was left speechless when he charmed to make gas noises anytime he sat down.

        Remus always found it funny when the girls did what they did to innocent blokes. He would have been mad not to. They made it clear what they were up to, but raging hormones surely enticed their victims enough that they didn’t pay clear attention. Boys all around him, boys in different houses, would be charmed into a false sense of safety only for it to shatter the next day. After a while he began wondering when his turn was, but he found that to be too presumptuous of a thought. He settled for watching his peers flounder and thinking nothing of it.

        Then one day in sixth year, Y/N L/N came up to Remus in Potions, leaned in close to his ear, and whispered, “I think it’s sexy, watching you write your notes like that.”

        Remus had blushed furiously and looked down at his parchment. His notes could have been likened to columns, the way they so neatly went across the page. His scrawl was slow, meticulous, and tiny, the best of his friend group. “O-Oh… thank you?” Remus didn’t want to fall for her charm, as much as he liked her. Maybe he wanted to be Y/N’s victim eons ago, but that was eons ago for a reason; the thought secretly terrified him.

        “It’s perfect,” Y/N purred, leaning away from Remus to smile beguilingly in his face. “But that’s to be expected with Remus Lupin, isn’t it? He is perfect.”

        Remus tried not to choke, hearing his heart beating loudly behind his ear drums. He didn’t know how to respond so he just stayed silent. His face was beginning to burn.

        Y/N raised her brows, her smile widening at the sight of Remus’s ablaze cheeks. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret safe so the girls don’t go into a frenzy,” she mock-whispered. “I want you all to myself.”

        She walked to her seat without another word.

        “What—” Sirius whipped around in his seat—like he hadn’t just eavesdropped on their entire conversation—and gaped at Remus. “Mate!”

        “Don’t,” Remus croaked, burying his head into his parchment, feeling doomed.

        Maybe that’s when it all started. Yeah, that’s when it all started.

       Remus stayed alert all day, thinking her flirtations were all fun and games, but when a prank never happened….

       Well, Remus couldn’t help but wonder why.

-

        “Hi, Remus,” said Y/N, waving a hand at him and grinning wolfishly when he ducked his head in a blush. “You look good in red!”

        He was wearing a red Gryffindor Quidditch jumper to show nonexistent spirit for the upcoming game with Hufflepuff.

        “T-Thanks, Y/N,” Remus said, feeling Sirius and James’s equally wolfish grins behind him, Peter’s subdued excitement just as much of an annoyance. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Wouldn’t that just be great?

        “I’ll see you at the game,” Y/N said, giving him a wink before she went in the opposite direction of the boys, two of her Ravenclaw friends following like ducklings. Giggling ducklings.

        Remus felt feverishly warm. Maybe it was from Y/N’s advances or a fever itself; either way, the game didn’t feel like such a good idea anymore. He turned to look at his friends.

        “It’s been three weeks, Remus,” Sirius said, looking over at James and Peter. They shared the same incredulous face. “Why hasn’t she pranked you? They never do this.”

        “I don’t know…” Remus shrugged helplessly. It wasn’t like he talked to her any more than his friends did; he was just as clueless, if not more. “Maybe it’s her biggest and takes longer than a few weeks to plan.”

        James rolled his eyes, but there was a grin tugging at his mouth. “Or… maybe she like-likes you.”

        Don’t be ridiculous, Remus felt like saying. How could Y/N like someone like him? He was quiet and awkward and he wasn’t very funny. Not witty like her, or as confident.  She was a beautiful thunderstorm and he was barely a raincloud.

        “I know that look, mate,” Sirius said, waggling a finger. “She has to bloody like you; she never sticks this long to one victim.”

        “She had this schoolgirl look on her face,” James continued.

        “Yeah, Moony—she made an effort to say, ‘Hi,’ to you, too! That has to mean something,” Peter chimed in.

        Remus rolled his eyes and shook his head, refusing to let his friends implant this stupid idea in his head—or else he’d start thinking and then he’d start hoping. “No,” he growled.

        He walked off to a sour serenade of James and Sirius making kissy sounds.

-

        “Remus, you’re not a Pureblood, are you?” Y/N asked him once during Potions class. She sat right behind him, always leaning into his nape and saying things that made him blush for the rest of the period. He sometimes wanted to up and move, but after he got used to her incongruous flirting, he began feeling comfortable. Soon after he began liking it.

        Remus felt uneasy by the question, but he didn’t see any logic in lying. “I’m a Half-blood,” he said.

        He could almost feel her smiling behind him. “Good, good… well, I wish this were science class so you could see the chemistry between you and me.”

        Remus now saw why she asked him about his blood.

        “I always have my eye on you,” Y/N continued, getting closer until her lips were a breath away from his ear. “Makes for a… distraction, if I’m honest. Can’t say I’m disappointed.”

        Remus lurched forward, away from her, getting a strange look from the Ravenclaw girl a few seats away from him. He heard Y/N chuckling behind him.

        “Cute,” she muttered to herself.

        Remus didn’t stop blushing until he passed out from exhaustion later that night.

-

        “You steal my heart every time I see you,” she said in his ear the next time she saw him.

-

        She walked by him when he was sitting with his friends in the Great Hall and told him he had a beautiful smile the day after that.

-

        “I didn’t believe in love at sixth year until I saw you at the Sorting,” she said randomly one day in Potions.

-

        “Do you feel yourself falling in love or should I give you a push in that direction?”

-

        “I bet you’d make for a great cauldron to brew Amortentia in.”

-

        Eventually Remus started smiling at her flirtations and instead of just blushing and feeling embarrassed, he felt warm instead, like her words were hugging his insides. He wished he was like Sirius and could flirt back, but he wasn’t anything like Sirius. He was too awkward and anxious for that. He just sat and said, “Thank you,” and looked forward to what she’d say the next day.

        Remus knew her pulling a prank on him was long overdue.

-

        “You have a crush on her,” James declared.

        “You look all sappy and loopy, mate,” Sirius said in agreement, twisting his head this way and that as he analyzed his friend.

        Remus didn’t feel very sappy or loopy, and he was already disappointed enough in himself, so their words did nothing but irk him. He frowned and said, “I don’t fancy her.”

        Liar.

        James smirked. “Oh, really? Looks like Alex Green is over there flirting with her now—”

        “Wait, what?” Remus snapped his head over to the Slytherin table. Instead of what James painted in Remus’s head, he saw Y/N sitting with one of her friends, smiling and laughing. “Oh.”

        James snickered and Sirius roughly patted Remus’s shoulder. Peter would have taken the piss out of him, too, if he were there—but he was fortunately holed up in the dorm doing Potions coursework.

        Yeah, if the ground could open him and swallow him, Remus wouldn’t complain.

-

        Professor Slughorn was sick and unable to hold class, so Remus was sat outside the classroom door, working on an essay for Transfiguration. He would have just walked up to his dorm instead of sitting in the dust, but the corridor was empty and silent. A contrast to his boisterous dormmates who didn’t know the definition of settling down.

        Remus didn’t mean that. He loved his friends. They could just be too much at times.

Like the past month, for instance.

Remus had sat and been furiously scribbling out paragraph after paragraph, using his wand as a makeshift lantern in the darkness, when he felt something his leg. He jerked and fumbled for his wand, quickly flashing the light over on his other side.

He felt like booking it when it was Y/N’s embarrassed—Embarrassed? What?—face his wand came inches from prodding.

        “Oh—I’m sorry!” Remus quickly jerked his arm back. “Sorry… um… Y/N.”

        Y/N smiled, but it looked unusual on her face. It had a different look to it, almost embarrassed. Remus felt like taking his fingers and drawing her skin up into a grin, and he usually didn’t feel like touching another person. She just looked weird with her eyes dim like that, a weird that he didn’t like.

        “It’s okay,” she said. “I just came to say something. I looked for you in the Great Hall, even asked your friends where you were, but you weren’t anywhere, so… It was this or your dorm.”

        Remus felt puzzled. Why had she gone through so much trouble looking for him? Whatever she had to say was important; it had to be, all things considered.

        “I fancy the pants off you,” she said, words all jumbled from how fast she spoke. “Like,really fancy—but I don’t want your pants off. I don’t know how to like someone without flirting with them and I know you’re nothing like that, I do, but I’m a twat. I realized after my mates pointed it out earlier, I’ve been entirely too forward with you. You’re just so cute and quiet and I just don’t know how else to like you—”

        Remus, awkward Remus, backwards Remus, didn’t know how to say words without messing them up, and he knew he’d probably just sit there and stare at her until she got frustrated and left, so he did all he could think to do in that moment.

        He closed the space between them, kissing her as clumsily as a six-year-old would his recess crush.

        Merlin, what am I doing?

        Merlin, what have I done?

        Her lips were chapped, Remus’s were too, but that didn’t stop from Y/N’s words dying in her mouth and the two of them sharing a short-lived smooch.

        Remus pulled back as fast as he lurched forward.

        Why did I do that?

        Y/N was staring at him with a reddened face. Remus didn’t know at all what to say.

        He ended up saying, “I fancy you, too.”

        Y/N had regained her bravado, it seemed, because she let out a small laugh, telling him, “That’s a relief, Remmy… I’d hate to have to play a prank on you.”

        Remus flushed and smiled at her, taking longer than he felt comfortable admitting to catch on that she was teasing him.

        They held hands for a while. She even stole a kiss while he was concentrating hard on his parchment.

        Remus felt strangely light.

Bonus:

        James and Sirius threw a dorm party that night for Remus’s lip virginity getting taken.

        “Now you’re ready for third base!” Sirius cheered for him.

        Remus tried smothering himself with a pillow, swatting at his dormmate’s hands when he tried tearing him away from his bed. “Dear Merlin, Sirius, leave me alone!” he cried.

        Sirius didn’t leave Remus alone.

[generallybarzy]

hey there, stranger. vi

one, two, three, four, five

an: two months after you first met mat, you’re back in the same little coffee shop, in much heavier moods than last time. // So after last chapter, i'm sure you're all upset about what's happening to our favorite cute new couple. What began as a cutesly fluffy fic is turning into something a lot more serious and tough. Because all relationships come with hardships, and working through them together is something they're gonna have to do. Another thing, please comment and send asks about this story!! Even though this isn't the biggest fic I've planned so far, I'm putting all my love into these characters and their situations hit close to home, and I'd really appreciate some feedback.  warnings: mentions of domestic problems and violence (mostly verbal and mental), relationship doubts, talks of fear and self-worth tagging some lovely people:  @sunflowertimothee @deleausvp @dunnwithlyfe @smit41 @softboybarzal @fallinallincurls @matbaerzal @brokeninsidebutnobodyknows @hockeyhughes11 @folkloreflyers @nazdaddy word count: 2.3k  

You hadn't always been afraid of love.

But maybe you had, for as long as you could remember.

It began with your parents. They were unhappy, they argued, they fought, they pulled others into their arguments and eventually drew so far from each other that they were distant and cold to even their children. They seperated, violently and in the dead of the night, in the middle of your school year, and threw your life into a rollercoaster. It scared you. Made you feel, even as a young kid, that love just wasn't something that happened. Relationships didn't exist, love didn't exist without violence and arguments and fights. A perfect love was just not what you believed in. And even though it's true that every couple has their arguments, you believed that the fights were common. The yelling, the jealousy, the coldness, the raised voices, the fear. 

The last time you truly, honestly were in a relationship, it was your highschool sweetheart. If he could be called that. You were 17 when you got together, you got in trouble together, turned 18 together, and graduated highschool together. He started out amazing, as amazing as teenage boys could get, but somewhere along the way he changed. But looking back now, you could never truly call him your sweetheart, even at his sweetest. 

While you were studying endlessly to graduate high school with honors and applying to all the colleges and scholarships you could, your boyfriend was out partying and drawing further and further away, turning cold and careless. And though you hadn’t found out until afterwards, your boyfriend had spent the last six months of your relationship sleeping around with countless other girls behind your back. You didn’t find out until a sweet girl came forward and told you what he’d done, and that she was sorry and didn’t know he was taken. 

“He’s not, not anymore.” 

You found more proof. He didn’t even try to hide it, but you were too busy with school to notice all his tagged posts on Instagram, all the pictures of him openly kissing other girls while you foolishly had his name and a heart in your bio. You felt humiliated. When you finally confronted him, he laughed. As if he didn’t care that you found out. As if he was proud. “Maybe,” he looked at you with absolute lack of care in his eyes, “Maybe if you weren’t so fucking prude and put out a little more, I’d still care about you!” 

The only thing you did right in that relationship was to break it off right there. You’d think, after saying he didn’t care about you, he’d leave. But even after you walked out that door for the last time, his number was one that constantly popped up on your phone. “Wow, running away like always, huh? Fucking bitch.” “No wonder no one wants you” “Always such a clingy bitch but never wanted to fuck. Maybe if you would’ve slept with me I wouldn’t have to find other girls to satisfy me.” “You did this to yourself.” He’d send you pictures of himself with the other girls, taunting, saying “This is what you’re missing out on.” He’d flaunted the fact that he cheated on you, as if wanting to humiliate you. As if it’s what you deserved.

And, for a long time after it ended, you believed him.

Did you think Mat was like that? Deep down, no. But something made you fearful to open up to any man ever again after what happened. You’d truly loved someone, as blind as you were, and it all blew up in your face, and now, you were convinced love only ended with a broken heart. 

Mat sat across from you now, in this familiar little coffee shop, his eyes heavy and his brows furrowed in worry, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he watched you. His hair was the same as when you woke up tangled together this morning, dark and unruly after his morning skate, and he sat with his big hands resting on the table, just inches from your own, playing with his fingers- a nervous habit that you realized as of late and loved. Watching him scratch his wrists and crack his knuckles and fumble with his fingers was a strange sort of calming, and made you want to hold his hands in yours and kiss each joint and feel his skin against yours in that wholesome, comforting way. But he didn't reach out. He thought he did something wrong. He thought he ruined your relationship. He thought it was his fault. 

“That's not how I imagined our first morning together would go.” He gave a sad smile, always one to try and lighten the mood, while his mind drifted to the daydreams he had had of waking up surrounded by your warmth and your arms and getting to kiss and snuggle into you before practice. He had always dreamed of that. The softness, the domesticity, it's what he craved. But before you could find the words to make it right, his voice dropped and shook. "So, our first 'talk', huh? What did I do?" 

You couldn't find the words, and you just dropped your gaze to the table. His sad eyes made you feel so bad. "I'm so sorry, Mat."

"Why'd you run off?" The fear in his voice was enough to make your throat squeeze tight. He shouldn't feel this way. You really didn't deserve him. 

"I just…" your mind raced to find an explanation for yourself. "I freaked out." 

"About what? Help me understand. So we can fix it. Let me fix it, please." You looked up again, thinking you owed him at least your attention. His hazel eyes were glossy and as beautiful as always, searching yours for an answer, any answer, and you wanted nothing more than to tell him how amazing he was, to tell him this wasn't his fault. Someone as amazing as him should never feel pain. But you knew you had to open up to him.

"Listen." You reached your hands out on the table, centimeters from his own, and stopped just short of his fingertips, focusing your eyes on the smooth surface of the table. "You have so much love in you." You began. "That's one of things that I asked Rebecca for, remember? A big heart." You glanced up for only a brief moment to see his lips turn up a bit. "I need someone with a big heart, and I thought I could handle it right now, but…" When you trailed off, Mat spoke up softly, carefully, hesitant to interrupt you, but desperate for an answer.

"You can't handle me? Am I too overwhelming? We can slow down, even back up  if you want-." 

"Mat-" 

"We don’t need to hang out as much as I’ve been trying to-”

“-Mat-”

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry for interrupting you. And for being overwhelming."

There was no hint of sarcasm in his voice like there was in your exes, not judgement, no daggers, only pure care and genuine sorry. He hadn't raised his voice at you once, hadn't yelled at you for leaving a cold, empty hole next to him this morning like your ex would have. You found it refreshing to have a man speak to you so calmly, so gently, and carefully, and you realized that the last thing Mat wanted to do was mess this up. 

And you felt the same.

He was quiet now, after his little outburst, waiting for you to say anything. "Maty," his eyes shot up to yours at the sound of his nickname leaving your lips. You chose your words carefully, as carefully as Mat handled your emotions, as if one wrong word could shatter something amazing. "You're not overwhelming. You're amazing. It's me, it's my fault I can't handle it." There it is, Mat mused to himself, The 'it's not you, it's me'.

"No, don't say that..."

"Listen…"  I've been hurt before. I'm sure you have too, but I got messed up." Mat let out an upset little huff, his eyes going even more soft and watching you gently, as if he wanted to make it all better and erase any memories of pain from your past relationships. "The only other guy I was ever seriously with… he made me feel like shit. Like I'm… unworthy of love."

"You're not." He spoke up fast, urgent, but delicate.

"I feel like I don't deserve how amazing you're being."

"Stop, (Y/N), please. Just shush." Mat shook his head, absolutely heartbroken you hear your confession. "I know what it's like to be hurt, shit, do I know. But you deserve so much better than any of your exes have given you. I know that."

Your throat was suddenly tight at his reassuring words. "He hurt me, a lot. I'm still so broken because of him. He humiliated me, made me afraid. Of men, of relationships, of love. It hurts, Mat… It hurts to try and love again when I've loved so hard and only known broken ends. It's hard for me to trust people, and it's so, so scary to jump into a relationship like this." You glanced up momentarily to meet his gaze, feeling absolutely embarrassed to be spewing all of this dramatic sob-story to him.

"You're not…? (Y/N), baby," he whispered, shaky, as if it might be the last time he called you that,, as if by tomorrow you'd be nothing more than strangers again.. "You're not… breaking up with me, are you?" Before you could respond, Mat continued one, as if he didn't want to hear the answer that he automatically assumed would be bad. "If you are, if you need some space or some time away from dating, that's alright, I'll respect that. But I think we can work this out. I'm willing to try." 

For a second, you imagined going back to being single again after everything Mat had given you. You would never be able to forget him, forget what was, and what could’ve been. So you shook your head. 

"No, Maty. I don't want to break up." 

"Fuck, oh, thank god." He finally smiled, releasing the breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding all day. 

"The reason I freaked out so bad this morning, it wasn't the kiss, not really the cuddles either. I enjoyed those, even though they were a little awkward, being our first time and all…" you shared a little smile at that, at the memory of the first time you'd curled into each other and giggled and squirmed and talked, the most intimate moment of your relationship so far. "I like being with you, I just freaked because…. Well, Mat, I don't even know if you remember, 'cause you were asleep, but last night you said you love me."

It was a few long, quiet seconds, watching him process it in his mind, the look in his eyes going even more worried. His eyes widened as he sighed a nervous breath of air. "Shit, I did?" He reached up for a moment to scratch the back of his neck and his cheeks went a little red as he scrambled for his words. "I, uhh, heh." He let out an awkward, forced laugh. "I didn't mean for you to know so soon. I'm sorry." 

"You don't need to be sorry about how you feel."

"Yeah, then neither do you." His fingertips grazed over the cool surface of the table and up to your warm hands, slowly, carefully, asking for permission. When you didn't flinch away or tense up, you felt his hands cup your own, and there, cradled in the palm of his hand, you felt okay. "You don't need to feel bad about panicking at that. That's a big thing I said, even I can understand that. We can back up a bit. Maybe I'm pushing too hard to force feelings. Let's just take it easy, alright? Just hang out casually a little longer before calling this a relationship. Just see where things go. That sound better?"

You shook your head, and Mat's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, wondering what else he could suggest. "No, Mat, I'm not suggesting we step back from this relationship. I still want to be with you, I promise. I still want to be your girlfriend." 

His head dipped down shyly as he grinned at the table, still overjoyed at the thought of being with you. "I still want to be your boyfriend." He squeezed your hands in excitement, in content.

And you squeezed back. 

"Good." 

You knew Mat wouldn't kiss you, not before having that conversation about your boundaries, so you lifted his big hand to your lips and pressed a little kiss against one of his knuckles. He watched, his eyes wide and a content smile on his face, and slowly brought your own hand to his lips, reciprocating the appreciation. 

"Well…" he spoke gently, lips moving against your skin. " Then what do you want to do? Continue as we were? Slow it down a little?" 

"Just a little. I just needed you to know what you're dealing with with me. How scared I am to try this out again."

"Baby, we've all got our histories. Trust me, I would know. We all need different things in a relationship, okay? I'm not going to judge you for them. If your heart needs to be handled carefully, I can take it." 

"Thank you." 

"Can I kiss you?" 

"Please." 

And so, he leaned across the table and cupped one of your cheeks with a big hand, his fingers still tangled with yours, and pulled you into the sweetest, gentlest kiss you'd ever felt. From the moment you brushed noses, a smile lit up your face. And in that kiss, you could feel his promise. That he'd treat you better than your exes, that he'd give you what you deserve, gently, carefully, and with your heart in mind. And you brought your hands up to trace his jaw, promising the same thing back.

"So," he smiled as he sat back down, cheeks pink from the kiss. "That last thing I want to do right now is rush this, but I uh, I got you a ticket for our next home game. Call it an early Christmas present. I was planning on introducing you to my friends afterwards, but I feel like you're not ready for that." He smiled, showing you that it was no big deal for him. He was adaptable. If you needed a change, it was easy. "It'd mean a lot to me to have you there, if you want to come?" 

He still wanted you there with him even after you showed him just how broken you were. And you still wanted to be there, support him, share the passion he had for hockey. Watch him do what he loves.

You smiled, your thumb drawing gentle hearts on the back of Mat’s hand.

"There's nothing I want more."

[ffwriterbts]

Lunar- BTS Werewolf AU Part 5

AN: As I’ve said before, if slowburn BTS werewolf AUs that have springlings of angst, smut, and fluff, this is the story for you! Other than that, please leave a like or comment so I know you’re enjoying the story!! The sections should start getting longer as I keep updating :)

Also! Let me know if you want to be on a tag list for this story!

Word Count: 8k

Warnings: General angst; mental health issues; soulmate themes if you squint: seriously if you aren’t into angst don’t read this bc :)))) it’s angsty

Posted: 16 Jan 2021

Tag List: @happynightmareprincess

Masterlist

Previous Next

When YN woke up, swaddled in the softness of Jimin’s sweater, with Yoongi’s hoodie balled up in her arms, the teddy that Hobi got her resting next to her head, the light was streaming through the curtains. The scents of the three boys swirled around her in a way that was so familiar, so calming, that she almost forgot that she wasn’t still with them.

Sighing, she rolled over, opening her eyes properly for the first time. A deep sort of disappointment settled into an ever-growing pit in her stomach as her eyes flitted across her own bedroom for the first time in months.

Sadness hits her like a wave, slamming into her with an unknown, unrelenting force that left her gasping for air.

Wimpers fell from her lips as she curled into herself, not wanting to get up. All YN really wanted to do was to do was seek out the same comfort she had been getting when she was with them.

YN buries her face in Yoongi’s hoodie, willing herself not to cry anymore. Rationally, she knew she shouldn’t feel so bad. She knew she shouldn’t be so hard on herself, shouldn’t let the pit of hurt and anger in her chest rule her actions.

But honestly, YN wasn’t thinking rationally. She wasn’t removing herself from her feelings like she had done for the entirety of her life. She wasn’t putting the reminders of the boys she had called housemates and friends for the past two months out of sight.

Instead, YN just squeezed her eyes closed, ignoring the gaping hole in her chest and breathing in the scent of the boys that swirled around her.

It was because of this deep pain that YN took almost two hours to rouse herself out of bed. It would have taken even longer, but eventually nature calls and hunger gnaws at you so much you have to eat something, even if you don’t really want to.

YN trudged her way to the bathroom, then to the kitchen. The small teddy that Hoseok had gotten her was held tightly to her chest as she stumbled around her house, the ever-so-soft material of Jimin’s sweater feeling almost scratchy against her sensitive skin.

She was cold. In fact the whole house was absolutely freezing, but she couldn’t bring herself to wrap up in a blanket or put on real pants. Looking through the kitchen, she quickly realized that she didn’t have much in the way of food she could eat without much hassle.

Shivering, YN ran a hand through her hair, grabbing a small bag of some snack food she had never seen before and stumbling her way to the study she found so much comfort in. Absently, she opened the snack, nibbling on it and tasting nothing.

Silently, YN thanked herself for setting up her laptop in its usual spot the day before. She knew the only thing that she’d be able to do for a while would be to write something terribly sad and angsty.

And that’s exactly what she did. She nibbled on the snack, which she eventually realized was one of the things that Jin and Yoongi had brought to her home on the day of the attack, typing away furiously as she tried to express the emotions that were swirling around inside of her.

She didn’t remember grabbing a bottle of water, but there was one on her desk when she withdrew from her typing enough to realize she was thirsty. She chugged it like she had never had water before in her life, staring vacantly at the computer screen. The words she had been writing for god knows how long swirled before her eyes as she realized just how tired she actually was.

She stood with a groan, her back feeling more stiff than it had in months. YN pulled the sleeves of the sweater down over her hands, picking up the teddy from its place next to her computer and clutching it to her chest again. She went straight back to her room, shivering as she slid her feet across the cold floors, longing for the warmth of another body to sedate the chill that seemed to have settled in her bones.

She felt like she was floating now, the same hole bleeding in her chest as the pain turns to a sort of uncomfortable numbness. Her whole body felt like it had just frozen in place with no room for emotions, good or bad.

Snidely, she thought about the way the boys would come to her with worry etched on their beautiful faces if they had been close enough to her that they could feel her emotions. As strange as it was to get used to in the beginning, having seven other people who could instantly tell when you’re having a bad day, YN actually really enjoyed feeling known like that.

She liked that they would ask her what was wrong and actually listen. She liked that they would shake their heads at her when they realized she just had forgotten to eat lunch and was grumpy because of that. She liked that each of them would approach her negative emotions differently, having their own ways to distract her and make her feel better. Whether it was because her injuries were particularly bad or because she just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, they were there to cheer her up in their own special ways.

They were bitter, the memories swirling around her head. YN buried herself under the blankets of her bed, cold settling in her bones as she held Yoongi’s hoodie to her cheek.

She thought of how Jin would sigh at her, shaking his head and telling her to go get Yoongi, the three of them were going to try out this new recipe that was too complicated for just one person to make. He never expected her to talk to him, but was always a sympathetic ear when she decided to open up.

She thought of how Yoongi had found her one too many times, sitting on the couch in his studio long after everyone else had gone to bed, typing away on her computer like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. He’d never say much then, instead clearing his throat and suggesting they both go to bed, closing the laptop with one hand and helping her up with the other. He’d give her a soft, gummy smile and open the doors for her, easily lifting her off her feet if she was having pain or trouble with her ankle. What she wouldn’t give now, to be carried to her room by Yoongi and told to get some sleep for once by the man who never seemed to sleep at night.

She thought about her energetic discussions with Namjoon about topics she really cared about, and how he would seat himself across from her in the library when she’d been reading for a little too long, drawing her out of her reprieve with discussion. His eyes would crinkle slightly at the sides, gleaming as his dimple was on full display at her becoming more and more passionate, forgetting whatever had been on her mind before, even if just for a few minutes.

She thought of how, whenever Hobi would notice her getting restless, he would ask her questions about what kind of music he should try dancing to next, or about what kind of interesting dances he should rope Jimin and Jungkook into doing with him. He would give that sunshine smile to her as she gave him ideas, making her feel like she really mattered.

She thought of how Jimin would try to curl his much bigger body into her lap, careful not to put too much pressure on her bad leg, just in case. He would snuggle her, usually half smothering her with praise and questions until she was laughing again. He would always plant a kiss on her forehead before he got up again, chattering away about how she “just needed some Jimin cuddles” with the biggest smile on his face.

She thought of how Taehyung would pick her up every time he caught her hobbling from room to room, chastising her in a half-joking, half-serious way for walking when they all knew she wasn’t supposed to be. Every time, her ears would get hot as she mumbled an excuse about not wanting to bother anyone or not really being in pain, even though it sent shots of agony up her leg every time she tried to walk until just two weeks before she left the house. Taehyung would just shake his head, his voice reverberating through her chest as he told her that he was her “trusty steed” and that he took his duties very seriously.

And she thought of Jungkook, the one she was closest in age to, who was still awkward around emotions. He would offer her up some of whatever snack he was having, and insist that they go play another round of whatever game he had decided was his favorite for the time being. He never asked what was wrong, or why she didn’t feel good, instead he quietly tried to take her mind off of it, which she appreciated.

YN cried herself to sleep again that night.

~~~~~~

The week passed torturously slow. YN was in a depressive spiral, freezing cold despite the warmth of her home, swaddled in blankets and clutching onto the things that she had been left like they were her saving graces. The boys felt disjointed, like they had a part of them ripped away and it made everything more difficult to do for them.

As much as it had pained them, they kept true to Namjoon’s plan and didn’t go anywhere near YN for the entirety of the week, trying to be sure that YN was what she seemed to be. If their week was any indication, they had found a lost Omega.

Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook had spent most of the week trying (and failing) to convince Namjoon to let them be the ones to patrol over where YN lived. Namjoon was able to see right through this though, telling them to stay away from there and that he would be the only one that goes over into that part of their territory until the week is up.

Begrudgingly, they listen. Though not without trying to convince Hoseok to do their dirty work for them, which he refused.

When it came to the week being done, they had their answer. YN had to either be one of the lost or she was able to pack bond, for whatever reason. Once Namjoon was fully sure that they needed YN with them, in one way or another, he rounded up the boys.

“You all know that it’s been a week since YN left us. And I think I speak for all of us when I say that this week has been absolutely torture.” Namjoon starts, pacing back and forth in the living room, looking at the boys before him.

“Right Joon, what have you decided?” None of them pay attention to who it was that said it, but they were all looking at Namjoon anxiously.

“We need her here. With us. She’s started the pack bond, even though we all know she couldn’t have meant to.” Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, pausing his pacing to stand in the middle of the room, turning to the six other men he called his family.

“Hyung, what are we going to actually do?” It’s Jimin who speaks up this time, shifting nervously in his seat.

“Tomorrow morning, be ready to drive over to hers. It’s almost an hour, because we will have to go around the forest completely, but we need to explain to her what’s going on and let her make the choice for herself as to what to do.” Namjoon takes a deep breath. “Jin can drive the one car, and Yoongi can drive the other, since they have both taken the drive before. But whatever happens tomorrow, we have to respect YN and her decisions.”

They all agreed, excitement building as they chattered amongst each other.

“One of you needs to come and help me gather some snacks to take with us in the morning, I know you guys will just be absolutely starving if we don’t have something for the ride.” Jin stands and smiles fondly at the three youngest, who smile sheepishly back at him. Everyone in the room knew that the comment was directed at them, especially Jungkook.

It was Jungkook who followed the elder into the kitchen, excitedly packing what seemed like enough snack foods to feed twenty people, thought they both knew that between the seven of them, they’d all be gone or close to it by the end of the next day.

~~~~~~

When YN woke up the morning the pack was coming to see her, something compelled her to get out of bed without the two or three hour upset lounging session she had been growing used to.

For the first time since returning to her home, she put on a pot of coffee and found some cereal that she wouldn’t mind eating dry. YN sat at her kitchen counter, wearing Yoongi’s hoodie like a dress, sipping coffee that was far too hot and way too bitter for her liking, crunching on cereal.

YN was completely zoned out, doing these things without thinking about what she was really doing. One hand was alternating between bringing the half empty coffee cup to her mouth or grabbing a few pieces of cereal at a time, the other clutching that teddy bear to her chest like it would fill the gaping void.

It was because of this autopilot mode that YN didn’t hear the knocking at her door until it was fairly loud. Confused and not thinking at all, she went and opened the door paying absolutely no attention to the fact that she hadn’t gotten dressed for the day yet and she was not dressed appropriately to be seeing anyone just yet.

She is met with the sight of Namjoon’s smiling face looking down on her, his deep and polite voice asking her if they could come in as the other boys stood behind him, clearly impatient.

“Y-yeah of course” YN’s voice is rough from not having spoken for almost a whole week, other than to let sobs fall from her lips. She shakes her head as she moves to the side, letting the pack into her home.

It felt strange, seeing the object of all of her emotions in the last week right there in her home, milling around the place in a curious fashion.

It is right then when she becomes fully aware of the fact that, not only is she clutching onto the teddy that Hobi got her, but she’s also not wearing any pants. Sure, Yoongi’s hoodie might as well have been a dress on her much smaller frame, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel exposed as the seven men made their way into her home.

As comfortable as she was with them, she could never forget just how large they were in comparison to her. Or the strength that was so carefully hidden in their lithe bodies.

“Ehm- make yourselves at home. I’m going to get changed.” YN turns on her heel, ears hot as she hurries to her room, embarrassment rolling off of her in waves.

The boys, so used to being naked or close to it with each other because of the changes and the nature of their relationships with each other, honestly didn’t register anything weird with her appearance. They shot confused glances at each other as they watched YN retreat, but shrugged it off once they realized they could see her legs.

YN returned after a couple minutes. She had left the teddy bear in her room, and thrown a pair of leggings and Taehyung’s beanie on, taking a few deep breaths to steady herself. She couldn’t help the immense feeling of comfort at the knowledge the boys, her boys, were in her home again.

“Ah YN!” Hoseok is the first one to notice that YN had returned, giving her his sunshine smile. YN gives a little wave, standing awkwardly in the entrance to her living room and kitchen. She’s unsure of why they’re there, or what was expected of her, making her feel almost like a stranger in her own home.

It doesn’t take more than twenty seconds for Taehyung and Jimin to have her seated between them on the couch, each of them practically smothering her in cuddles from either side. YN is giggling before long, feeling like she was finally coming home. The two boys were being almost too loud as they exclaimed how much they had missed her.  

“YN!” Jin shouts from the kitchen, expecting to find at least a little bit of something in her fridge that he could whip up for lunch for all of them. He had a feeling that they would be there for quite a while.“Why is your kitchen empty? Do you not eat when we don’t feed you?”

YN feels her ears get hot again as she mumbles something about not having been hungry as Jin just scolds her more. As much as she hated the scolding, she couldn’t deny that she had missed Jin’s semi-parental attitude towards her. From their spots on either side of her, Taehyung and Jimin joke about how they’ll protect YN from the “fierce scolding” of Jin.

“Alright, enough Hyung. Boys.” Namjoon speaks, bringing the attention to him. “We are here for a reason, after all. YN, would it be alright if I talked to you? Privately?”

YN is quickly agreeing, trying her best to get up from her spot squished between Taehyung and Jimin without injuring herself.

“Would you like to talk in the study?” YN asks when she finally manages to escape, turning and walking towards it once Namjoon nods. For whatever reason, she doesn’t question the fact that Namjoon wants to speak to her alone.

They walk in silence until they get there, YN taking her customary seat at the desk and Namjoon takes one across from her after closing the door.

“What do we have to talk about that couldn’t be said in the other room? Is it bad?” YN speaks first, her voice hoarse as she avoids eye contact, fiddling with the end of the hoodie.

“Well, YN, it’s not necessarily bad, but it’s going to be a lot for you to process and understand, so we figured it would be easier for you if I were the only one here when I explain everything.” Namjoon answers smoothly, doing his best to assuage the fears he was sure YN had.

YN makes a motion for Namjoon to continue, looking anywhere but his face. Her ears were hot as it dawned on her just how put together the boys were, even though she was a complete mess. She didn’t like feeling like the only one that was affected, but to her, it was clear she was the only one feeling anything.

“Do you remember my first visit, when you were still on bedrest?” Namjoon gives YN a second to respond, continuing when he hears her give a soft hum in acknowledgement.

“Well, I told you then that you smell like an Omega, which is true. What I didn’t know then was if you were able to pack bond or not. Turns out that you most definitely can, and are probably one of the lost Omegas.” Namjoon pauses, watching YN intently as he waits for her to process what he had told her.

“Wha-” YN begins, brow furrowed as she mulls over what Namjoon had said. She knew what pack bonding was, what it meant. She knew that it was a connection far deeper than anything a regular human could experience. It was a family, a partnership, a lover, a best friend. It was special.  

“Is that why I feel so bad?” YN asks the question in a voice that is much softer than anything Namjoon had heard come from her before, and it breaks his heart.

“Now I can’t be sure beca-” Namjoon starts, pushing the glasses he had decided to wear up his nose as he begins an explanation that YN can just tell isn’t going to really tell her anything. She loved Namjoon, she really did, but he had a specific way of sugar coating things that left people without a grasp of the full picture.

“Joonie, please.” YN interrupts, wrapping her arms around herself as her head turns to the floor. The familiar name tugs even more at Namjoon’s heart, a lump forming in his throat as he sees just how much YN is really hurting. “Don’t sugar coat it. Did something happen? To make me feel so horrible?”

“We bonded. Or started to.”

“O-oh”

“Yeah.”

The room falls silent for what seems like way too long, neither person wanting to be the one to break the heavy silence.

“What does- what does this mean? For- For me?” YN finally speaks, thoughts racing. She internally cringed at the fact she kept tripping over her words.

She was grateful, in that moment, that it had been easy for her to pick up on the methods there were to keep the boys out of her head.

“First off we want you to come and live with us, permanently. We will care for you just like we did when you were hurt, but you won’t have to say goodbye. We will be there for you, no matter what. You’ll always be safe, always be cared for, always be taken care of. Omegas are always the most protected members of the pack, they’re the most vulnerable.” Namjoon’s voice is warm, almost too happy. YN can tell there's a catch.

“But?”

“But you won’t be able to live outside of the house that we inhabit. You’ll be a target for any other pack that wants to hurt us or find our weak spots, so you won’t be able to go anywhere without one of us, except for in the house.” Namjoon shrugs his shoulders as if what he said wasn’t incredibly shocking and wouldn’t greatly influence her decision to join them or not.

“I- What?” YN shakes her head. “You mean to tell me that I have to choose between feeling like someone ran me over a million times with a cement truck and stomped a hole in my chest, or always being targeted for murder?”

Namjoon doesn’t say anything, giving YN more time to try to process what was going on.

“And if I say yes, I won’t ever be able to go and do anything by myself? Or I might be killed?” YN’s voice is shaky as she speaks, and again, Namjoon doesn’t say anything.

“Can you give me a minute? Alone?” YN turns the chair back around and stares at her closed laptop.

“Of course. Yell if you need one of us, yeah?” Namjoon stands and walks out of the door, a sad smile gracing his face as he softly shuts the door behind him. He honestly couldn’t tell what YN was going to do, and as he walked away, he realized he hadn’t even mentioned the fact that they’d always be able to read her thoughts, even if she didn’t want them to.

He took off the glasses he had been wearing, running a hand over his face and pinching the bridge of his nose as he walks back into the living room area. Even though he’s expecting to be bombarded with questions, the boys don’t say anything as Namjoon moves into the kitchen, seeking the comfort of Jin without a second thought.

YN sat at her desk for a while, mulling everything over. She had always considered herself to be very independent, enjoying the ability to do things for herself, but she couldn’t shake how wonderful it felt to be taken care of. Sure, it wasn’t at all what she was used to, but she couldn’t deny that it made her feel loved.

Wanted.

Special.

And YN liked that, if she was being honest with herself.

But she also couldn’t imagine giving up her freedom. Giving up her walks alone in the woods, or her solo trips to town, or her trips to the city to go see this or that. The fact is, YN likes her time alone, away from everyone else. In the mansion, the only place she could go to get away would be her own room, which felt like she was a sad teenager again, hiding from her parents.

However much she wanted to just burst out with a yes as soon as Namjoon had mentioned staying with them permanently, she felt like she needed another perspective when it came to what her life would become in that home.

She didn’t want to make a mistake that would haunt her for the rest of her life, after all.

As much as it felt like the right thing to do, she didn’t want to intrude on what was already an established group, just because she didn’t feel good.

Especially not when they clearly weren’t half as affected as she was. Sure, YN had always known she felt things a little deeper than other people seemed to when it came to her friendships, but she didn’t realize just how fucked her emotions were until the seven men she had spent a full seven days crying over came back into her life, completely fine.

Deciding that she needed another opinion, she stood, quietly opening the door and heading towards the noise of the men in the other room. Purposefully, she stayed quiet and to the side, not wanting them to focus their attention on her just yet. She couldn’t deal with their attention being fully on her, not then.

“Yoongi?” YN’s voice is soft, sad. She was standing behind him when she spoke, causing the man to jump, twirling around to see what she needed. Sure, he had noticed when she entered the room, but he was not expecting her to be right beside him.

With a cough, he asked what she needed.

“Could I talk with you in the study? Please?” YN looks up at him with those big, innocent eyes of hers as she spoke in that same sad, soft tone. Needless to say, she could have asked for anything in that way and Yoongi would have lit the world on fire to get it for her.

Instead, he nods, motioning for YN to lead the way. She scurries back to the study, hoping that Yoongi will have some insights that will help her solidify if it’s the right choice or not.

Truthfully, she couldn’t think of anything else she wanted more than to go back to the way things were before this horrible week, but she also had to be sure.

YN takes a seat on the couch this time, watching with those same sad eyes as Yoongi closes the door. He sits down next to her, opening his arms as YN settles herself into his embrace.

If Yoongi was being honest with himself, he didn’t really understand why the youngest three liked physical affection so much until that first night YN had curled up beside him, sharing her blanket with him as she slowly ended up closer and closer to him. She claimed that she was “just cold” and that her burying her nose in Yoongi’s shoulder for half the night had nothing to do with the terrifying movie that Jungkook and Taehyung had decided was going to be the selection for that week’s movie night, but they could all see right through her.

After that first night, Yoongi would always open his arms to YN whenever they were seated next to each other, like now. Though usually it was more positive than it was in this moment.

Yoongi internally felt awkward as he heard YN sniffle sofly in his arms, though he couldn’t deny he wanted to hurt whoever had made her upset. Sure, he knew that it wasn’t rational, but he had always been protective of those he cared about, and YN was most definitely not an exception to that rule.

“It’s alright YN, I know this is a lot for you.” Yoongi speaks for the first time, his deep voice comforting YN in a way she had been sorely missing.

YN doesn’t speak for a long time. Instead she cries, burying herself in Yoongi’s arms. She had missed having him so close, having his scent to help calm her down.

“YN, darling, tell me what’s been going on, hm?” Yoongi moves YN off of him slightly, running a hand over her cheek to wipe away a stray tear.

“Are you sure you wanna hear?” YN’s voice is shaky, strained. The amount of unashurededness in her voice makes Yoongi’s heart break, and a sort of gross protectiveness come out in him that he hadn’t felt since the younger members of the pack had joined. As much as those three got on his nerves, he felt the same sort of protective love for them as he did for YN.

“Of course I want to hear. I’m always here to listen to you.” Yoongi’s voice is soft, careful. YN glances up, tears brimming in her eyes. When she sees Yoongi’s attention fully on her, his eyes searching her face to try to make sure he wasn’t overstepping and that she was as comfortable as she could be given the circumstances, those same tears spilled.

She takes a deep, steadying breath, leaning back away from Yoongi so she can properly look at him.

“It was horrible Yoongs. I felt like- like someone had ripped out my heart. Like there was a gaping hole where my stomach used to be. Like- like you didn’t want me. Didn’t care. ” YN shivered, eyes trained on her hands as she fiddled with the end of one of her sleeves, willing herself not to cry any more than she already had.

Yoongi notices this small nervous habit and takes her small hands into his much larger ones, rubbing a thumb over her knuckles in a way he hoped was soothing to her.

“I felt alone. I’ve never felt alone like that before Yoongi. Never!” YN sniffles, shaking her head. “I couldn’t eat, I either slept for too long or not long enough, and I was cold. It was so so cold. I didn’t feel like I’d ever be warm again.”

Her voice fades out now, sniffles coming more and more frequently. Yoongi took the pause in her speaking to pull her back into his arms again, instinctually knowing that she just needed to be held and reminded that he was there and that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Once YN had calmed down again, Yoongi held her at arm's length again, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away the last tears from her cheeks again.

“YN, look at me.” His voice is soft, caring. He doesn’t speak again until YN fully turns to look at his face.

“I never want you to feel like that again. I’ll be here for you, we will be. What I felt this past week-” Yoongi pauses to shake his head, “-I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, especially not someone so fragile as you.”

YN can feel her ears get hot, wanting to say that she wasn’t fragile, that she could handle things. She wanted to tell him about all the terrible things she had gone through before, about how much she had dealt with all on her own, but she didn’t. The words died in her throat, because by their standards, by his standards, she really was.

“Do you understand what we are asking, by wanting you to come live with us? To be part of the pack?” Yoongi asks now, shifting the attention slightly.

“Sort of.” YN shrugs. Her fingers are back to fiddling with her sleeve and are quickly captured by Yoongi’s again.

“What are you concerned about? Hm?” He gives her that signature gummy smile of his, eyes crinkling at the edge when he notices how YN finally cracks a smile.

“I don’t want to lose my freedom. I can do things by myself, I don’t really need to be taken care of, really! I don’t want to become a burden on any of you. Or cause issues. Or put myself somewhere I’m not really needed.” She takes her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing on it absently as she watches Yoongi for his reaction. If there’s one thing she could trust, it would be Yoongi’s lack of ability to make anything something other than exactly what it was.

“I’m not going to lie to you, you know that. I don’t see the point in it. The way things were before you came back here, that’s about how they’ll be if you choose to come with us. There are only two things that will change.” Yoongi pauses, looking to make sure YN is paying attention properly.

“First, you will end up presenting fully as an Omega. When it comes closer to the time for that to happen, Jimin will have to be the one to explain it to you, seeing as he’s the one who has felt things as close to what you’ll go through. Second, you won’t be able to shield your thoughts from us anymore. If we want to read you, we will be able to. It’s not something we are looking to do, but the emotional state of Omegas affects the rest of the pack greatly, and that’s the way we have evolved to deal with it.”

YN swallows thickly, mind racing. She wasn’t going to lie, she had some, well, unsavory thoughts about the men that she had come to know so well. She really didn’t want all of those thoughts being common knowledge, especially not to the people they were about.

“You- You’re sure I won’t be able to shield?” YN’s voice feels sticky in her throat as she gets the words out.

“One hundred pre-cent darling, every thought that passes through that pretty brain of yours will be able to be accessed by us, if we want to read you. As our only Omega, your thoughts and feelings, your emotions, they will greatly affect all of us. We already feel what the others do, but with you, it’ll be ten times as intense. We need to be able to read you so that way we can always know what’s going on, what you want and what you need, without you having to explain it to us.”

“Oh”

“We already feel like we need to protect you, like you are our lovely little Omega. Once you’re fully ingrained into our pack, it’ll just be more intense.”

They fall silent, once Yoongi finishes speaking this time. He smiles absently at YN as she plays with his fingers, obviously deep in thought.

He had missed having her around more than he thought, if that was even possible.

“I’ll do it.” YN’s voice is so soft, Yoongi almost misses it.

“Are you sure?” Yoongi wants to make sure YN has really thought about everything before she says a definitive yes, even when he wanted nothing more than to squeeze the small girl into the tightest hug he could.

“Yes, I’m sure. I want to live with you. With all of you. I want to be your Omega just as much as I want you to be my pack.” YN tries to swallow the lump in her throat, willing herself not to trip over her words.

“I’ve never been more sure of something in my life.”

~~~~~~

The next two weeks were hectic, to say the least. Once YN had confirmed that she was going to be making the move from her own home to the mansion with the pack, there was a flurry of activity.

First, they had to decide who was going to stay with YN while she packed all of the things she would be needing. Like the big bad adults they are, the pack played a huge game of rock-paper-scissors for the privilege, with Hoseok and Jimin being the ones to end up winning.

After that game, the rest of the boys stayed around to help with whatever they could right then, but left in the late afternoon.

From then on, it was time for YN to go through and pack up everything she could to make sure she had enough stuff for living somewhere new.

She started with packing up things she didn’t want the boys to see, like her underthings and personal journals, before moving on to things that they could more easily help with.

Jimin was not a very big help, deciding that he wanted to cuddle one (or both) of the other people in the house instead of helping to pack and carry the boxes (and whining when he didn’t get his way). Both YN and Hobi found it to be adorable though, neither of them really minding the workload.

It was mostly deciding what YN would need for her everyday life, and what things she could leave in the home, just in case someone in her family decided to drop by unannounced. YN couldn’t offer up a real explanation for them, not without reliving years of trauma, so neither Jimin nor Hobi decided to push the issue when she fiercely insisted that they leave enough to make sure nobody would question that someone lived there.

Hobi would cock up an eyebrow when he felt the small prickles of fear from YN whenever he would go to put one too many of something in a box. He thought it was just plain weird that YN was so insistent on this one very specific thing, making sure to remember everything that she was doing so he could discuss it with both Jimin and the rest of the pack when he got the chance.

Jimin, whenever he felt the well of emotion swell up in YN, would do his best to distract her, telling her about this or asking her about that or pretending he needed a hug from her before he could do any more work. He would let angelic giggles fall from his lips as he drew the girl into his arms, picking her up and swinging her around until she felt happy again.

Neither boy pushed. They knew that YN would open up to them in time, and they didn’t try to pry into her mind either, even with the barrier that she had learned to keep up getting weaker by the day.

Every few days, the rest of the boys would show up and help with whatever they could for the day, be it moving boxes or sorting things or arranging this or that so it would look like someone was still living there. They all did their best to make sure that the transition between the house that YN had so many memories in and their own was a smooth one.

It was during this transition time that the boys fully realized two things they hadn’t really thought of before. On the lighter note, YN had an absolutely horrible sleep schedule and completely disregarded the sun’s appearances in the sky. The second, much darker, thing that they realized was that YN had hidden trauma.

What that trauma was? They couldn’t tell you, but they realized as she was packing that she was afraid of something. Again, she had very carefully hidden whatever it was she was so scared of, to the point that none of the boys knew what in the world she held such a deep terror for.

They decided among themselves not to bring it up though, deciding that YN would have to talk about it on her own. Even though they could feel her thoughts and emotions more and more with each passing day, they didn’t want to break the trust that they had built with her on the cusp of such an important move.

~~~~~~

And this is how things were when YN finally moved everything into the mansion. She had gotten everything settled into its rightful places fairly quickly, finding a system that would work well for her.

She settled into the routine of being in the house incredibly quickly, feeling almost as if she had never really left at all. It was hard to believe that just three weeks earlier she thought she was saying goodbye to this place forever.

In the mornings, or whenever YN decided to get out of bed, she would sleepily head down to the kitchen and grab one of the cold brews that always seemed to be in the fridge. She had always liked cold coffee more than hot coffee, so she was grateful to whoever kept the fridge stocked with her favorite flavor of cold brew.

From there, YN would carefully sip on her drink as she made her way around the mansion, looking for either Jin or Jimin. Both of them tended to stay in the house a lot, as neither of them had any sort of external job and neither of them went on patrol, if it could be helped. Whichever one of them she found first, she would either follow around until she was fully awake, or sit and watch as they did whatever they were doing at the time. YN would then go and find the one she hadn’t found the first time, repeating the process until she was satisfied that she was fully awake and ready to face the day.

At this point, YN would make her way back to the kitchen, stocking up on snacks and grabbing more coffee before making her way to one of the desks in the library. She’d spend the next few hours planning and doing research, hunched over the desk as she furiously types whatever it is that she needs to for the time, only taking small pauses to sip more of her drink or shove more of whatever snack she had grabbed into her mouth.

It’s only when the call of nature becomes too much to ignore that YN will stand and stretch out her spine, feeling stiff as she tries to pack up her things. Yes, she had found out early on that there were a couple maids that came in a few days a week, but YN couldn’t imagine leaving any sort of a mess for them if it could be helped and would clean everything she could whenever she got done with anything. Habits die hard, after all.

It always seemed to happen that one of the others would be getting home around this time, so YN would make her way into the surprisingly lush living room and curl up in some blankets and watch whatever happened to be on TV until someone caught her attention.

Usually, it would be Jungkook and Taehyung who returned first. YN didn’t quite understand why or what it was that they actually did, but they spent their days patrolling in the vast forest around the house. Jungkook had tried to explain it to her a few times, but she just never really understood what was going on.  

When the two youngest would get to the home, it was a 50/50 shot as to if they would transform from their wolf form to their human one, or if they’d hang out around the house as wolves. Either way, they would find a way to sit on either side of YN and just relax with her for a while. Sometimes they would talk about what they had been doing or cool things they had seen, and other times they just wanted to get some affection from their favorite Omega.

Eventually, Hoseok would appear and steal Jungkook to either work out or dance with, and Jin would come in to steal YN so they could spend their time cooking the evening meal together. Every single day, without fail,  Taehyung would grumble about how “the Hyungs took the fun ones” before going off to try and find Yoongi. And everyday, without fail, Yoongi would be found in his infamous Genius Lab, annoyed to high heaven that Taehyung had come in to “bother” him, even though they both enjoyed the interruption.

They always tried to eat together as a whole group, crowded around the table laughing and talking about anything and everything. As much as they would bicker and argue, none of them could deny the love and happiness they found in each other.

After their meal, they would break off into groups and do this or that. Sometimes they would go as a whole group to have a movie night, video game tournament, karaoke night, or something else that they could enjoy as a whole group (with the loser having to tidy up the kitchen and dining room). Other times, YN would make her way into the kitchen and start cleaning while the others broke away to do whatever it was they had planned for the evening. Whenever YN took it upon herself to clean up whatever mess was made, Hoseok would always come and help her, smiling and laughing with her as they got the place tidied up.

It was at this point that YN would slip away with her laptop under her arm, a water in one hand and her charger in the other, heading to the Genius Lab to work on her stories. Despite everything else, she still had deadlines to meet and a need to be alone sometimes, and she knew that Yoongi wouldn’t go back to the ever-so-private room until he was done doing rounds with Namjoon for the evening.

This gave YN about two and a half hours or so completely to herself, where she could be alone with her thoughts and feelings. She could feel the world she had built for her characters without the worry that anyone or anything would be there to interrupt her, could get deep into what the characters were doing and saying and feeling without worrying about what they boys would think of her and the world she had made. Honestly, it was incredibly freeing for her to be able to have that time and space where she was completely alone with her thoughts.

And when Yoongi did make his way back to his favorite room in their home, he fell into the habit of bringing an extra bottle of water with him for YN. The two would settle into a comfortable silence once Yoongi had settled in, both of them finding peace in the fact that the other person was in the room. Every so often, YN would ask Yoongi a question about this or that, or Yoongi would ask YN to give her opinion on a section of music, but most of the time the only sounds in the room were the soft taps of the keyboard and the even softer breathing of both bodies.

Eventually, one of them would end up looking at the time and mutter something about going to bed, which the other would ignore for at least another hour or two, when their eyes were heavy. YN would fall asleep on the couch without meaning to every couple days, which gave Yoongi the ultimate symbol to get them both to bed.

Yoongi would sweetly clean up the studio, making sure everything was off and where it needed to be and packing up whatever YN had brought with her, before he bent and picked her up, carrying her up to her room and tucking her in before making his way to his own room.

It was a simple, domestic sort of life that they all led, and they couldn’t of been happier with the way things were turning out.

[pigeontheoneandonly]

I am heartbroken to relay that after a small initial rebound, Pan declined over the course of yesterday afternoon and passed away at 9:30 pm at eleven years of age.  

He began to lose weight at an alarming rate in January, leading to an arduous diagnostic process resulting in a diagnosis of IBS about six weeks ago.  He was so brave and tenacious despite the confusing and invasive nature of his medical care, making it through many vet visits, blood draws, and exploratory abdominal surgery and biopsy that left a scar the length of his belly.  Since then, he struggled greatly despite treatment.  Pan had a number of issues surrounding food and found it very difficult to adapt to the new diet.  Amid this, he additionally developed an aggressive dental infection that manifested at the start of this week, and was impossible to treat effectively due to his IBS and the side effects of his medications.  He stopped eating and drinking on Tuesday, and was not able to resume before his passing.

I don't say this to shame anyone, but it's really important to me that I explain the decision we made had nothing to do with the cost of treatment. He had a very poor prognosis, and it is highly likely he would have passed within the next few days in a great deal of pain, in a strange place amid strangers and medical interventions he could never understand. Even in the unlikely event that he could be stabilized, he would have endured weeks of feeding tubes and fluid supplementation to maybe--maybe--become eligible for the tooth extraction he needed to survive.  

His favorite place to be was outdoors.  Though he lived his life inside, he loved to sit in the sun with us on the lawn, in the fresh air.  He never stopped trying to get out.  He was the most stubborn cat I've ever met-- as soon as he saw us putting on our shoes, or heard the hinge creak, he'd be running for the door.  Before he passed, we spent time with him outside the vetrinary hospital, so he got one last romp in the grass.  And despite how poorly he felt, he was genuinely excited and happy to be outside one last time.

Pan came to us by accident when we lived in Columbus.  He was living in the parking lot of our apartment complex; we suspect he was abandoned by his original family, though we will never know their reasons.  We became friends.  One night, Robert was taking out the trash, when Pan showed up on our doorstep in the pouring rain with a torn ear (a notch he carried the rest of his life).  He chose us, and knew that we would help him.  At about six months old, he slept for a solid two days and then never seemed to stop moving.  He loved whipped cream to the point of insanity.  Even though it wasn't good for him, if I was eating any I needed to give him a bit in a bowl, or he'd never leave me alone.  He loved to be picked up and held like a baby-- the only cat I've met who really seemed to enjoy being held that way.  Our older cat, Lenna, taught him that the best way to be a good cat was to groom her head, and he woke us up every morning by grooming our hair, sometimes a little too aggressively, but he meant well.  Waking up without him this morning was so hard, I went to sleep dreading it.

After a long night yesterday at two different vet clinics, he was very happy to see us again.  He curled up agianst me as he had every night since he came into our life, and he was purring softly and nearly asleep when he passed, with both Robert and I giving him every bit of affection that we could.  He has left a gigantic hole in our lives. I keep looking around for him today and then remembering he's not here anymore.

My childhood cats passed alone.  I'm not sure if it simply wasn't an option to stay in those days, or if our parents thought it was best we didn't.  But I remember very clearly leaving both Sara and Spike for the last time, and the looks of confusion and sadness on their faces.  When I grew up and learned that staying might perhaps have been an option, leaving Spike especially became my biggest regret in life.  Pan in many ways had an extremely similar personality to Spike; he was soft, gentle, kind, cuddly, and always had a sixth sense for when his humans needed him.  They even looked very similar. I faced depression as a child and this struggle has continued into my adulthood.  My spiritual journey has been as complex, but I sometimes thought that Spike knew that I still needed him and sent Pan to me to finish his work.   And Pan was the best companion anyone could have asked for.  I feel that I have made it up to both of them by being at Pan's side right up until the very end of his life.  

I realize this was very long, but it was very important to me to be able to share some of what he meant to us. Thank you for reading.

[imagineitup]

rumors : theseus scamander x reader

request: Could you write an angst to fluff Theseus Scamander x reader imagine please? Thank you!

a/n: enemies to friends!au ok so this was a lot better in my head ajdlksjk but i hope u enjoy bb 

- - 

Working as an auror meant you were bound to experience surprising moments, but never in your life had you expected Theseus Scamander to decide that it was time to include you in the list of people he’d protect to the death.  Theseus seemed to glow with kindness and warmth, almost like he had a never-ending supply of it, but for the longest time, he’d hated you.  And while maybe hate was a strong word, the two of you were not on good terms.  At least, not until you’d impulsively pushed him out the way of the cruciatus curse, taking the hit for him.

For some reason, the Ministry of Magic believed that pairing the two of their best aurors together would be a good idea, despite the glaring fact that these two-said aurors wouldn’t trust each other and seemed incapable of talking to each other peacefully.  But the Ministry did what it did best, and that is not listen, which is why you and Theseus now find yourselves holed together in one hotel room, his eyes settling to rest concernedly on your form.

“Are you feeling alright?” Theseus says after a while, regarding you with a strange look.  

He’s got a nasty scar running across his nose.  It’s split, but Theseus doesn’t fix it, and you haven’t made a move to say anything.  Despite hating him for the longest time, you know exactly why he hasn’t performed a healing spell; it would be obvious to anyone who spent even a little time with him.  Theseus feels guilty.

“I’m fine,” you say, but it immediately sounds like a lie.  You don’t want it to, but your throat feels raw.  Simple talking is too much, and you hate how your body responds to everything.

The cruciatus curse really shouldn’t have affected you like this, but it did.  Apparently it’s from your rheumatoid arthritis, according to the Ministry’s undercover healer.  Apparently, your arthritis decided to take a flare up when the curse overloaded your nerves.  So now pain flashes back in phantoms, and when you move, everything hurts.  Sometimes it even hurts to breathe.

“You’re not fine.”  Theseus says matter-of-factly, standing up to start pacing around the room.  “I could’ve taken it, you know?  It would’ve only been for a few minutes and then,” he sighs, his shoulders slumping, “and you wouldn’t be in pain.”

You crack the faintest smile, angling your head to stare up at Theseus with sleepy eyes.  “I told you, Scamander.  You can’t control impulsive actions.”

Theseus stares at you for a moment.  It’s strange to see a careful smile pull at the sides of his  lips, and it makes some part of you secretly flush.  Yet underlying everything is utter terror that you’ll do something to slip up, and then Theseus will go right back to hating you.  You’re dreading the moment this mission ends, because that means things will revert right back to normal, and Theseus won’t have to spend anymore time with you.

You’re jolted out of your thoughts when Theseus clears his throat.  “You do know that you don’t have to protect me, right?”

You’re startled.  “I’m your partner.  Of course I’m supposed to protect you.  Why else would the Ministry send us both here?”

Theseus shakes his head, frustrated.  “I’m not talking about that.  (Y/N), I’m talking about sacrificing yourself.  You don’t need to do that.”

“Sacrificing?”

“Yes,” Theseus grimaces, and he pauses in his pace to kneel beside you, his elbows leaning on the mattress to prop his head up.  “There was no way of knowing what spell that was.  It could’ve been the killing curse, for all we knew.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“Yes, but it could’ve been!  And if you died,” he lets out a strangled breath.  

“It wasn’t the killing curse, Theseus.”

“But I’ve been absolutely terrible to you.”  Theseus sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.  He looks tired, for the first time you’re noticing the circles underneath his eyes and the way he’s trying to blink away sleep.  “Look, we support each other.  And ... I know about what happened before.  That wasn’t your fault.”

The confusion must show on your face, because Theseus seems to choose his next words very carefully.  His voice softens when he meets your stunned expression.  “I’m not him, (Y/N).  And what went down that day won’t happen again, okay?  I promise you, I won’t let it.”

You swallow, even more confused than before.  You’re struggling to talk with the familiar ache at the back of your throat, and you blink quickly.  “You’ve known about that for years.  I don’t understand what this has to do with anything.”

“I knew rumors.  But I never knew what really happened.”  His next words are reluctant.  “The Ministry told me the truth when we were assigned together.  It’s in your file.”

So he knew about it, then.  Anger rushes through you, white and hot, but it fades just as quickly.  While you’re furious that something so heavy could be reduced to a few concise words on a classified file, you don’t have the strength to move or even be angry anymore.  If anything, you just feel sad.  Drained.

Theseus’s hand drops to rest a centimeter against yours.  It’s almost like he wants to take your hand, but he’s not sure what the two of you are.  “You’re upset.”

It isn’t phrased like a question.  Normally this type of thing made you mad.  It was one of the reasons you preferred to work alone.  But Theseus’s voice is soft and gentle, and it does things to your heart that you don’t want to think about just yet.

“He was my best friend.”

Theseus’s brow furrows.  “What?”

You’re biting back tears, half from pain and the other from thinking about this again.  “I never wanted him to go on that mission with me.  I didn’t want him to get hurt.”  As soon as you start talking, it seems you can’t stop.  You haven’t talked about this in years, and the words spill from your mouth as you suck in a breath.  “I was distracted because I was so focused on protecting him.”  

Theseus stares at you with horror, his eyes pained.

A sob escapes your lips, and you shut your eyes, trying to choke it down.  “I wasn’t focused on myself, and that’s why he died.  He pushed me out of the way of the killing curse.”

“I had no idea you were friends.”  Agony etches itself across Theseus’s face.  “If I’d known I never would have --”

“People don’t normally look for details when they’ve decided to hate someone.”

Surprisingly Theseus’s hand edges closer, his thumb moving to carefully draw circles on the side of your palm.  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and it shouldn’t feel real, but it feels like the most genuine thing he’s ever said to you.  Like he’s really, really sorry.

“You don’t have to worry.  I’m not letting anyone else die on my watch,” you sniffle.  “Especially not you.”

“No one’s dying,” Theseus says firmly.

“I might,” you say ruefully.  “Although that won’t be terrible for the team, and I probably deserve it.  They’ve got you, and Yeji, and Glenys --”

“How can you say that?” Theseus whispers, going rigid.  “It’d be terrible for the team!  (Y/N), it’d be terrible for me.”

“Theseus, you hate me!”

“Not anymore.”

“What do you mean, not anymore?  Just because I did something decent and saved you from a hit?  That doesn’t make any sense!  I’ve done stuff like that before!”

“I didn’t know what happened until a few weeks ago.”

Realization quickly dawns on you.  Oh.

“He was my friend, too.  Some part of me thought you threw the mission because you didn’t want to work with him.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, you feel the biggest betrayal you’ve ever experienced.  Your mouth goes wide, and you stammer for words, shocked.  “You thought I would do that?” Your eyes start to tear up.  “You actually thought --”

Theseus panics, hands rushing forward to hold you, cradle you, but he stops them mid-motion, and something like anguish falls over his features.  “It was terrible of me.  Can you forgive me?”

“I hate you for thinking that.” You’re shaking, unable to stop.  “I would never, ever do anything like that.”

Theseus lowers his head, ashamed.  “I know you wouldn’t.  You’re kind, (Y/N).  And selfless.  I know that, now.”  He lets out a sigh, his shoulders lowering.  “I’m sorry.”

You look up at Theseus, still tear-stricken and wince as a wrack of pain runs down your spine.  Your hand seizes up and grips Theseus’s tightly.

Theseus lets out a strangled sort of sound, but you doubt it’s from your hand.  He inches closer to you, his eyes roaming all over your face.  “I wish you didn’t take that curse.  I want to help you, but I don’t know what to do.” His voice breaks off, and the strength seems to leave his body.

“Can you just hold me?” You whisper, closing your eyes.  “I’m so tired, and I can’t fall asleep.”

Theseus nods, slowly.  He gets up, his footsteps padding across the floor, and there’s a click as the lights flicker off, leaving the two of you in darkness.  A few seconds later there’s a dip in the mattress, and Theseus’s arm gently wraps around your waist.  You turn toward him, finding comfort in his embrace.  You’re so exhausted, and Theseus is warm, so warm.

“I don’t hate you,” you whisper after a while.  “It just really hurt.”

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did.”

“I couldn’t.”

Theseus brushes a wisp of hair from your face.  “We can talk tomorrow.  Try to get some sleep.”

You nod, resting your head against Theseus’s chest.  And for the first time in a while, sleep comes.

[angisam]

Challenge Zimtober

Day 17. Home

Day 1

Previous <—> Next

Here we go. the beginning of the future arc and the incredible experience that Dib had

Oko belong to @owosa and thanks for tranlated it <3

Dib awoke to the strident sound of an alarm. His ship's alarm to be precise.

Confused and with a racing heart, the first thing he did was fall out of bed in a mess of blankets as he desperately tried to get to his feet. When he managed to free himself, he went running to navigation to see what happened. The red lights and the sound of the alarm didn't help reduce his panic.

-"... Holy shit" It was the only thing he could express when he saw the dark mass with an aura of distortion around him. A wormhole was in front of him and his ship was being drawn straight into the center of it.

This was normally not a problem, many ships were designed to use those as shortcuts to travel between the universe. Too bad his ship wasn't one of those ships designed for hyperspace travel.

He knew there was no turning back, the hole was going to suck him in and the chances of the ship not disintegrating were particularly slim but he wasn't going to give up that easily, HA! of course not. He took the controls of the ship and tried to divert its course by turning the power of the thrusters to the maximum. He only managed to win just two seconds before the hole swallowed him completely.

...

The ship stood still, dancing through space aimlessly, slowly but surely moving away from the wormhole where it had emerged just seconds before. It had all happened too fast to even think other than that for some reason, his ship endured the journey.

Dib was too stunned to congratulate himself on a good job building the ship, so he just sat in his seat about to throw up. It was an indescribable sensation,as he got back to his senses.

We can guess that molecularly separating to rejoin was not a pleasant thing.

He sincerely thought that possibly he had some fused organ.

He approached the commands to find out where the hell he had appeared only to discover that he had run out of power. Well, all was not lost, he simply had to wait for the energy to recharge again…

Oh well, nothing to do anymore. He went back to his small room at the back of the ship and got himself into bed. He had no control over the ship until it reloaded. If he was going to die, let him do it well rested.

Upon awakening, the lights were on which meant that the ship simply reactivated itself. He didn't know what else to do but take pride in building a ship capable of withstanding hyperspace travel without even realizing it. Hah!

He once again went to navigation to locate in which coordinates he was now.

….

The universe would have to be laughing at him, he was in the damn Milky Way fortuitously close to the solar system, HIS solar system. He literally could have ended up anywhere in the HUGE universe and he had to end up right in the last place where he vowed not to return.

He was just about to change course when he stopped short. Perhaps he could take this opportunity to pay someone a visit. The thought of it left a bitter feeling in him for a bit and made him feel guilty to the point of simply wanting to go ahead with his plan to turn around, but his sister's words echoed in his memories and he resisted the urge. He breathed in and out strongly setting course for planet Earth.

The trip was short and he was easily able to locate the area of ​​the planet where he wanted to land. Everything was going pretty normal until he entered the exosphere and noticed that something was wrong. The atmospheric stabilizer was not responding, SHIT. Which meant that the appropriate speed had to be manually managed to penetrate the ozone layer and well the problem with that was the possibility of bouncing if it did not reach the appropriate speed or that the ship would scorch a bit if it was overshot and the option of go back was no longer available. Well, surely the ship would survive although the landing would be… well rough at best. The decision was made by putting on whatever seatbelt the pilot's seat had.

Sure enough, the landing was horrible but at least it survived the impact and he hoped the ship had suffered no more than he had in mind. Although the biggest surprise was received when he got off the ship.

Before hitting the ground, the only thing he saw was

dense vegetation, so the last thing Dib expected was an immense empty city under that vegetation. Actually that was a lie, the LAST thing he expected to find was a pack of dogs surrounding his ship.

-"....wtf" he said simply, his mind still trying to connect the loose ends. A huge black Great Dane that was almost as high as Dib approached the human and cocked his head to one side as a clear gesture for him to follow in the indicated direction. He stepped back in distrust. Several dogs approached Dib and began to direct him, some chewing on his clothes and others at him.

They pushed insistently with their heads for him to follow.

"Hey! Stop! What are you doing?! " For every step the dogs tried to take with Dib, he took another two backwards, the absurd struggle going on for a while until the Great Dane looked closely into his eyes as a warning growl escaped his throat. He raised his hands in somewhat uncomfortable surrender to have this beast so close to him. After the canine victory, the Great Dane turned around, resuming his march.

It was there that he discovered PAK.

...wait what?!

A closer look made him realize that all the dogs had a PAK. An Irken PAK.

Oh no, it couldn't be true, the earth had been invaded by the irken armada and they used dogs to dominate humans. Dogs, human’s great and only weakness!. HOW COULD THIS HAVE HAPPENED?!

WAIT. Perhaps there were other simple explanations for this, what about humans? Where were them? It was flat daylight and the street was empty…. They were slaves working in mines drawing resources! And this city was just abandoned! It must be that! If not, why were there dogs with PAKS in an empty city?.

They made him get into a vehicle, leaving the dogs behind except the Great Dane, who sat next to him. During the whole journey he did not move an ear. Dib forgot what it was like to be uncomfortable in a quiet room with someone else, even if he was with this...thing, and spent the whole way fiddling with his hands in an attempt to focus his attention on something.

The fragrant sunlight was replaced by the grim, artificial light from the tunnel they entered. They didn't know where they were taking him but he would be prepared for anything.

The car stopped and without him being able to argue much, Dib was taken out of there, being accompanied by the dog-thing to a large room where there was… By Jupiter. In front of him was an immense irken Control Brain.

His knees trembled and he fell to the ground as he slammed a fist on the ground dramatically.

DAMMIT! THEY DID. THEY CONQUERED EARTH! He was only a couple of years off the planet and they took advantage of his absence to conquer it without him knowing.

Without him noticing, several mechanical arms began to scan him and when they finished, a small holographic figure appeared in front of Dib, that due to his small dramatic act, did not immediately took notice.

"...OKO ?!" And then it all made sense. "YOU HAVE INVADED THE PLANET WITH YOUR DOGS?!"

Oko's hologram tilted her head slightly. "Invading Was Never My Duty." she answered calmly with the same monotonous tone that he remembered.

"Oh... Then why are there ghost towns ?!" There was a moment of silence in which Oko tried to understand what the human in front of her was referring to.

“I Detected A Ship With Various Irkens Elements Approaching The Planet. I Ordered The Humas To Stay On Their Home To Protect Them When I Calculated Where You Would Crash.”

“… Oh well, that also made a lot of sense”…wait a second “Why should humans even listen to you?!"

"Because It Is My Duty" The hologram sensed the growing confusion of the human and there was a movement behind her. In one of the screens of the room, several images began to appear, which left the man stunned.

Happy walking families, futuristic structures, vast plains of vegetation among much more.

"No way... it’s that...the Earth?"

“Yes, Human-Dib. I've Been Taking Care Of It For More Than 7 Centuries.”

“Wha- Wait!…. 7 centuries?! How is it possible?!, it can't be true, I-... "

“I win~"

A spark ran through his

shoulder and he quickly turned his neck towards the voice he had just heard. There she was, leaning on his shoulder, half lying in the air. Alma.

"ALMA?!" In an instant, her face full of pride and glee was replaced by sheer disbelief

"DIB?!"

Dib also began to make faces of utter disbelief as she tried to utter words that she didn’t know how to choose or could express. He looked at Oko while pointing at Alma, but she made no sign of understanding what was wrong with him. He went back to the Floating Alma and she just shrugged.

After the day he was having so far and for the sake of his sanity, he just shut up and let it go for now.

"Your Arrival Is Certainly Unexpected And Clearly Interesting. This May Be An Important Chance To Convince Your Paternal Unit To Stop Exploiting Resources Of The Planet In An Unsustainable Way.”

Was his father still alive?! Well, at this point he didn’t know why he continued to be surprised.

The talk with “Control Brain” Oko had been intense, he still had too much to assimilate, too ...he still didn't know if all this could even be real. Either way, Dib was following a dog named BFT 222750 who was taking him to his new apartment until a few days passed and Oko determined that everything was in order with him.

Great, he was going to be quarantined.

"So ... can you see me?" Alma had appeared next to Dib, moving in the air in time with him. There was also that.

"Are you real?" he asked.

"I think so, are you?” Dib pinched his nose with his fingers and sighed.

"I don't know, I'm still trying to get out of the shock of all this to think about it...” Dib looked at the specter of his friend. She looked just how he remembered her.

"You are dead?”

"Did you expect me to be alive after more than 700 years?" He could hear a slight laugh coming from the ghost and for a second, the stress of the whole crazy day was gone.

"Welcome home, Dib"

[broadstbroskis]

ooh 18 from the friends to lovers blurbs w brock boeser 💕

18. A mutual friend spills the secret that I’ve actually been in love with you for years  and now I can’t face you

“I did a dumb thing.” Jake Virtanen announces, dropping his arm around your shoulders as he slides into the booth next to you.

You join the group around you-a group of his teammates, some of their wives and girlfriends, a couple friends of friends-in bursting into laughter. “This should be good.” Troy says and Bo snickers into his hand.

You agree. “What’d you do?” You ask, patting his hand comfortingly.

“I may. Have accidentally.” He draws out the first part and then rushes through the second part of his sentence. “ToldBrockthatyou’reinlovewithhim.”

Around you, there’s a murmur of confusion, from everyone wondering what he said to making guesses to each other, but you heard it just fine and your hand drops from Jake’s abruptly. “You did what?”

“I’m sorry!” He whines. “I told you, I did a dumb thing!”

“I have to leave!” You cry, shoving him out of the booth, so you can literally run out the door. Whatever irritation you felt toward Jake for spilling your biggest secret is only intensified by the fact that he doesn’t even fall to the ground at that. Stupid hockey reflexes. “It’s been great knowing you all; see you never. Charge me on Venmo for whatever I owe.”

And you are literally running out the door, ducking your face as you run right past Brock and Petey, and pretending you didn’t hear as Brock calls after you.

You spend the next couple weeks avoiding anyone with any ties to the Vancouver Canucks organization though all methods of communication until Jake manges to guilt you into returning a text message and then the floodgates are open. You’re still holed up in your apartment, too afraid of accidentally running into Brock anywhere, but at least no one is threatening to bust your door down anymore.

Well, Brock might be, but you’re too afraid to even look at that thread.

Eventually, you do have to face the existence of the Canucks. It’s Holly’s baby shower and Bo doesn’t have to text you to remind you that Holly would be disappointed if you didn’t show; you’re actually getting dressed to head over when he breaks out the guilt trip.

He looks entirely too stressed when you walk in the door. “Are you okay?” You ask him.

“Who’s dumb idea was it to invite those idiots I call a team to this thing?” He looks around panicked. “I thought I’d hid everything breakable and then I found those two morons throwing a champagne glass like a football.” He doesn’t bother pointing behind him; Jake and Quinn are sporting guilty faces that tell you everything.

You grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek in greeting. “At least the house will already be baby-proofed.”

You brush past Jake and Quinn’s protests, intent on finding Holly to say hello. She’s holding court in the living room, surrounded by a bunch of the girls you’d expected to see, and she beams when she sees you. “Look who decided to show her face!”

“Don’t be surprised if you see me just duck under a table.” You warn; she laughs, but you’re serious. “And I’m going to tell you that I love you right now, in case I have to pull an Irish goodbye.”

“Okay, I love you,” Holly says. “But you’re being ridiculous.”

If you’re being honest, you know that, but you can’t help the ball of anxiety that suddenly appears in the bottom of your stomach when you hear Bo open the door again and Brock’s voice follow it. “You might be right, but I’m gonna go hide in the kitchen just in case you’re not.”

The kitchen is safe; there’s alcohol there to settle your nerves and more Canucks, but real, responsible adults, like Jacob and Alex and Jordie, who won’t let anyone bother you.

It’s possible you’ve miscalculated hockey player loyalty because the second you turn your back to fix yourself another drink, all three of them have cleared out of the kitchen.

Instead, Brock’s standing where the three of them stood, with an amused smile on his face that only grows when you let out a string of curses upon seeing him. “Nowhere to run to.”

“Sorry?” You can’t even look at him. You can feel the blush coming to your cheeks as you look down at your peach bellini in the champagne flute instead. Wow, those bubbles are fascinating.

Of course, such intense focus on your drink means you have no idea that Brock has moved closer until he’s right there and so him reaching for your chin to tilt it up comes as a total shock. “I said, I’d really like you to stop running away from me.” He murmurs. “So I can at least have a chance to tell you that I love you too.”

The sound of glass shattering vaguely registers in your mind as he pulls you in for the most breathtaking kiss you’ve ever had. 

“For fuck’s sake!” You and Brock only pull apart at Bo’s shout. “Oh. Never mind. It’s you two. You go right ahead. Thought you were Jake again.”

You rest your forehead against Brock’s shoulder as Bo turns to leave. “Speaking of, I probably owe him an apology.”

“I’m sure he’s over it already; you’ve got more important things to do now.” Brock says, lifting your chin to capture your lips once more.

[cordria]

End of the Year Roundup

Saw this post that was full of questions about the year. Thought I’d answer some of them. I was going to just write stuff about how my year went, but ended up staring blankly at the screen and doing nothing. Also, all I could think of was negative stuff, which isn’t the best way to handle a year-end roundup.

Click ‘read more’ if you’d like to read my thoughts.

1. what did you learn about yourself this year? 

I’m actually not hating teaching online as much as I thought I would. It’s incredibly stressful - but mostly because I’m teaching kids that don’t want to be online students and don’t even attempt to do the stuff, and so I’m moving like snails through the content and I’m bored out of my mind, and I can’t do most of the stuff I want to do because a large percentage of the kids won’t get anything out of it. If I only had kids that were motivated to learn through an online platform? Could be interesting. I’m contemplating that (perhaps) being my next job. I’m already pretty set on this current job drawing to a close at the end of the school year. 

2. best moment of the year?

When my four-year-old stumbled up the stairs, crying, telling me she needed to be tested.

“For what?”

“The Covid,” she said, sobbing and trying to crawl into my arms.

“Why?”

“My foot hurts.” She showed me her foot. (no noticeable injuries)

“Why?” 

“I stepped on a Lego.”

Cue laughter.

3. worst moment of the year?

It’s too hard to pick. I’d pick one of my panic attacks, I’m sure, but I can’t decide which was the worst.

4. what was the biggest change you experienced this year?

My whole world is tipped upside down. We don’t see anyone. We don’t do much fun right now. My husband is a stay-at-home dad so the kids don’t have to go to daycare. I’m teaching unresponsive icons on a screen. 

... What hasn’t changed this year?

(Skip a few)

7. what’s one thing that happened this year that you want to change?

I stopped writing. Like, completely. 

I got soooo far down the bad mental health rabbit hole that I stopped writing. 

I want to write again. Right now I’m still in a bad place, and so writing is a chore. But I know if I can get going again, it’ll get better.

(Skip a few)

11. what made you cry the most this year?

I need to cry more. My emotions are sorta broken right now and I don’t cry anymore.

12. biggest regret of the year?

I don’t want to call it a ‘regret’. There’s lots I wish I’d done differently, lots I wish I’d accomplished and gotten done and succeeded at. But that’s with hindsight. I don’t want to call it a regret and beat myself up over the things I didn’t do. 

I just want to walk forwards and try again.

(Skip a few - I certainly didn’t go anywhere this year)

18. what surprised you the most this year?

Everything my one-year-old has done this year. He’s so very different from how much daughter grew, and it’s fascinating to watch.

19. do you look different from the beginning of the year?

lmao. I was just post-pregnancy and still on maternity leave at the beginning of the year. Yes. I look different. I also desperately need a haircut.

20. how did this year treat you in general?

I want to say, “Not the best, most wonderful year I’ve had”, but, honestly, it’s more the last part of the year is coloring over the rest. 

Winter (January - March 14th): Stressful, as winter always is, getting students to be engaged when I’m just coming back from leave and have a young infant at home, and everybody is full of cabin fever. But it’s just a normal-ish amount of stress, and I got to snuggle a baby every day.

Spring (March 14th - May): A very odd way of living, with asynchronous teaching. But I honestly found it enjoyable and slightly boring. I got to work in my garden and play with my kids (like an extended, paid-for maternity leave, since daycare closed), and I could mitigate how much staring at the computer I did at any given time, and I could go for walks. 

Summer (June - August): Got lots of writing and drawing done. Worked in my garden a lot. Taught my daughter how to ride a bike and roller skate. Went on lots of walks while baby napped in the stroller. Lots of art projects with kids.

Fall (September - December): Hell came knocking and never left.

21. what message would you give yourself at the beginning of the year?

With 2021 vision, I’d tell myself to enjoy the first part of the year when you could, and try not to take things that happen in September and October quite so personally. And take more days off. Why did I not take more days off???

22. has your fashion style changed this year?

I have one very (old) comfy pair of jeans I’ve worn just about every day. Nobody sees me from the waist down anyways. They’re full of holes and I’d never get away with wearing them normally. But they’re as comfy as pajama pants and you can pry them out of my cold dead hands. I also get to wear sandals at work every day. :)

23. one of the best meals you’ve had this year?

Hubby got us an immersion cooker for Christmas. We splurged on fresh shrimp last night, and honestly? I like the immersion cooker. Yum.

24. who has made the biggest impact in your life this year?

My kids. For sure. 

If this had happened without kids in my life, I’d’ve spent the last four months being suicidal. I’m not sure I’d’ve made it to this point, honestly.

I’m not sure why the thought never crossed my mind - I’ve been suicidal under much, much less stress - but I’m blaming my kids for it. Deep down in the lizard part of my brain, I can’t even contemplating leaving two young kids like that, and so it just wasn’t an option that came up in my mind.

25. what’s one thing that you hope will continue next year? 

I’m going to take this as resolutions. What do you have going that you want to continue?

- I’m on day two of a sugar-free ‘cleanse’. I hate calling it a cleanse, because people put thoughts on that word, but it’s really just me focusing on eating nothing but healthy food for two weeks - no candy or treats. I ate too much sugary treats over the holidays, and I’m feeling it. I want to continue to eat healthy next year.

- I’ve been writing the last week or so. You’ve seen some of the results here. I’ve thought about writing. I’m picking at something that I’m going to submit to an anthology. I want to continue writing (and drawing) next year. 

- Writing will require working on my mental health. I’m on a good trend, but that is because I haven’t worked in about two weeks. I need to come up with a realistic healthy way of life when school starts again. I’m not sure what that will be, but I have until Monday to come up with some sort of plan to try. I want to spend at least an hour each day focusing on mentally-healthy tasks. (exercise, meditation, yoga, self-care, etc)

These are pretty bland, open goals. I’ll need to work on setting some more specific tasks - otherwise I’ll never do them - but it’s a start.

I desperately want 2021 to go better than the last bit of 2020 went. 

Peace! :)