#if anyone else wants to be tagged just ask

[adieutristana]

hii! could i request the arcane women comforting reader on her period?

of course! thank you for the request <3

b2b by charli xcx on repeat yuuuup

summary; headcanons of the arcane women comforting their girlfriend on her period.

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn, maddie

tags/warnings; menstruation, fluff, comfort, suggestive (jinx's section), reader has hell periods, mentions of poor mental health, can't think of anything else honestly

minors and men dni.

jinx;

✧.* idk why, but i headcanon that jinx is one of those super lucky girls who has really light 3-4 day long periods. basically nothing at all.

✧.* so when you told her that your periods were long, and heavy, and painful, she was honestly taken aback. jinx was a bit puzzled as to how that's possible.

✧.* "but mine aren't that bad! are you suuure?"

✧.* she doesn't mean anything by it, she's just genuinely perplexed. sometimes it's difficult for jinx to put these kinds of things into perspective. however, the second she sees you doubled over in pain, clutching your stomach and whimpering in pain, her instincts kick in and she's rushing to your side.

✧.* "oh- oh, toots, are you okay?! what happened? why d'ya look so hurt?" she'd ask, crouching down next to you with panic evident in her voice.

✧.* "just... on my period," you'd strain. "nothing out of the ordinary. don't worry about me."

✧.* jinx absolutely will worry about you, though. she's by your side, asking you what you need. since her own periods are so mild, she doesn't know exactly where to start with this sort of thing. but she's doing her best.

✧.* she'll research! she finds out all about the cravings, mood swings, pains, and how to soothe all of those things. she nerds out when she gets to research anyways, but she'll go above and beyond to make sure her girl is comfortable and happy. as much as you can be during shark week, anyways.

✧.* the same day she finds you in pain, she's swiping things from shelves of pharmacies and convenience stores like no tomorrow. pain medicine, water bottles that she plans to heat up, chocolates, tubs of ice cream, blankets, lots of sanitary products. hell, she'll even burn a few dvds so the two of you can have movie nights. jinx doesn't do anything halfway, especially not something like this.

✧.* even more clingy than normal somehow. i imagine jinx runs pretty cold, but also has a lot of natural body heat, if that makes sense? she uses the guise of being your 'built-in heating pad,' though anyone can tell she just wants to be close to you and comfort you. she'll have both her arms and legs wrapped around you, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck and peppering kisses along the soft skin.

✧.* "mm.. don't mind me, sugar. just wanna be here for 'ya, help you feel better 'n all that."

✧.* she's got such a sweet tooth, jinx might swipe a few of the snacks she stole for you while you're not looking... sorry. she can't help herself

✧.* will try to distract you to the best of her ability. movie nights as i said, as well as taking you around the streets of zaun (when you can manage to stand upright), gaming with you and purposely letting you win just so she can see your smile and hear your laugh.

✧.* along with the extra clingy thing, jinx will not let you out of your sight until she's absolutely sure that you're off your period. it's not that she doesn't think you can handle yourself, but she just worries so much. part of her knows it's irrational, but seeing you in so much pain eats at her inside, makes her afraid that she's going to lose you. even though it's just a natural part of your cycle

✧.* she's also read that other kinds of relief can be especially helpful for cramps, so you know jinx will be offering that to you if you know what i mean.

vi;

✧.* oh she's right there with you.

✧.* has the worst fucking periods known to man. it's like she's completely MIA as soon as it hits every month, she's just dead to the world. trust me, she understands.

✧.* which means that she can help you that much better! she knows firsthand what it's like and what works for her, but she also knows that it's not a one-size-fits-all situation. it'll take a bit of time, but vi knows what she's doing.

✧.* she's already got a stash of things lined up for you in her bathroom the day after you tell her you've gotten your period. panty liners, pads, tampons of different sizes. she doesn't even bother asking what you prefer to use, she just wants you to have the options depending on what you need at what time. only the best for her girl

✧.* fridge, freezer and cupboards are also full to the brim of your favorite snacks, the best medications. candies, chocolates, baked goods, ice cream, pain relief... all the good stuff.

✧.* don't even bother asking where she got all this stuff and how she could afford it, just let vi take care of you.

✧.* "shh, cupcake. that's for me to worry about. you sit your pretty self down and let me do all the hard work, 'kay?"

✧.* has heated blankets and water bottles ready for you at all times! the second she hears the slightest whimper of pain from you she's got the water bottle in her hand, instructing you to lean back so she can put it against your lower abdomen. she'll stay with you to make sure you're okay. she needs that reassurance both for you and herself.

✧.* vi is the type of lover who can't rest until she knows for sure that you're okay, regardless of how much you tell her that you're alright.

✧.* "i'm fine, baby. really, you don't need to worry about me." you'd say, though the way your face contorted in discomfort betrayed your words. "are you sure? you can't fool me, pretty. i know you're hurting. just let me help you. that's what i'm here for."

✧.* she also knows that insomnia comes with menstruation at times, so she'll make sure you sleep in her bed until you're off your period. holding you close, rubbing soothing circles over your back and stomach to help relieve some of the pain for you. don't worry about clinging to her, don't worry about how long it takes you to fall asleep or even the possibility of bleeding onto her sheets. vi just wants to make you feel comfortable, she'll take care of everything later.

✧.* doesn't let you do a damn thing for yourself. she almost treats you as if you're made of glass. it's not that thinks you're helpless, vi knows damn well just how fierce and independent you are. but she also enjoys taking care of you and knowing she's making your life easier.

✧.* "i'm on my period, not helpless." you'd protest, crossing your arms over your chest with a light pout. vi would chuckle to herself, playfully pinching one of your cheeks. "i know, i know. but i just wanna do this for you, okay? let me take care of you."

mel;

✧.* mel probably knows your cycle by heart after a certain amount of time being with you. not in a creepy way, but she's just that connected and attuned to you.

✧.* she'll come to you a few days before she knows you're due for your period, concern evident in her tone. "are you starting to cramp at all, dear?" she'd ask, or something along the lines of, "i know you're due soon. no discomfort? any cravings? you can tell me these things, darling."

✧.* she has a constant stash of things and she knows your preferences when it comes to hygiene products, snacks, medicine, all of your favorite comforts. she truly knows you like the back of your hand.

✧.* she'll be taking off work for you as well, as much as you protest and assure her that you're okay. realistically, mel knows sure and well that you're okay. but she still wants that time to be with you and make sure that you're comfortable and you're in as little pain as possible. it's more for her own peace of mind.

✧.* her own are honestly pretty moderate, not too bad but not exactly pleasant either. though again, she's attuned to your own senses and knows exactly what you need.

✧.* mel will be basically attached to you by the hip. she doesn't let you out of her sight for a second out of pure worry for you and your well-being. seeing you nauseous, craving the most odd foods, doubled over in pain, it hurts your girlfriend to even think about. she knows she can't outright prevent all of that, but it'll ease her mind to be there by your side.

✧.* mel doesn't insist that you take it easy, she knows that life goes on despite everything. she doesn't want to hover over you too much, but again, she'll be by your side. helping you run errands, walking you to and from work, watching from the sidelines as you do those little things that make you happy. painting, reading, writing... any of it.

✧.* it's a well-known fact that she loves to spoil you, so if you mention wanting anything at all, she won't even go out and buy it for you. she'll take you to the store with her and tell you to just buy whatever you'd like. no limits.

✧.* "anything at all, beautiful. let me treat you." "but mel, this is-" she'd shush you lightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "too much? nonsense. i can handle it, you just tell me what you need. it pains me to see you so uncomfortable, regardless of how natural it is."

✧.* holding onto you so tightly, and you just know mel would give the best massages. literally anywhere that's sore, she'll massage for you with such love and care. her fingertips are a bit calloused and rough, but always so soft with you.

✧.* also runs you warm baths and even tosses in salts and flowers! they help her a lot when she's having period-related pains, so she hopes they'll have the same effect on you. she's happy to leave you to yourself, or sit near the edge of the tub and just talk to you. whatever would make you the most comfortable and happy.

sevika;

✧.* she's also got pretty mild periods, but she is very attuned to you and your senses. sevika can't exactly feel your pain and discomfort, though she knows how to ease it.

✧.* trust me when i say that she's got a good supply of things for you. all the sanitary products you could need, extra-strength pain medications, heated blankets, heat pads, snacks, the whole nine yards. uncomfortable and hurting? not on sevika's watch.

✧.* "just tell me what ya need, darlin'. you know i'll get it." she'd say, spooning you tightly while one hand rests over your lower stomach. you'd mumble light protests, but she wouldn't have it. "i know you're okay, babe. you tell me that enough. but i still wanna help, okay?"

✧.* so touchy and so clingy. sevika doesn't want to let go of you for a second, not if she can help it. whether that be holding you from behind while you move about the kitchen cooking, holding you close to her in bed, keeping an arm around your waist as you saunter around the lanes together, or brushing her lips against your forehead, she relishes that contact. especially when you're vulnerable like this.

✧.* she still has things to do. unfortunately, sevika's job isn't really one that she can take time off from, as much as she'd like to. but the second she gets off work, she's back home, by your side. your girlfriend is so loyal, so doting when it comes to you. a side of the usually gruff woman that's reserved exclusively for you.

✧.* she also won't hinder you from doing anything for yourself, the last thing she needs is for you to feel both excruciating pain and helplessness at the same time. however, sevika makes it clear that she's happy to take over whatever task you need if it gets to be too much.

✧.* you could be in the middle of a task when a cramp suddenly hits you, making you nearly fold in half and clutch at your stomach. "hey, what's wrong?" sevika would ask, cold metal against your shoulder. "cramps? come on, i'll take it from here. you go lay down."

✧.* do not worry about needing to ask for help with sevika. ever. she's more than happy to provide it for you, don't worry about asking for 'too much' or being 'too demanding.' you're her girlfriend, and you're on your period. there's no such thing as either of those with her.

✧.* "come on. you know whatever it is, i'll do it for you. so tell me," she'd pause, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in that way she typically does, "what do you need, dove?"

✧.* also super attentive during sleep, would probably stay up just so that she can make sure you're okay and sleeping through the night. sevika is used to running on little to no sleep, thank her line of work. she'll try to keep it quiet, not let you know that she's observing, but she just worries. she wants to make sure you aren't suffering any bouts of insomnia. that, and seeing your peaceful expression during slumber is a plus.

caitlyn;

✧.* caitlyn gets it, she really does. one of piltover's strongest enforcers and officials, but struck down once a month by menstruation. something had to take her down a notch.

✧.* she knows exactly what'll help her, and she hopes it'll help you too. though she gives you options, since she knows you probably won't have all the same preferences as her when it comes to sanitary products, snacks, care, etc. cait will take her time so that she gets your routine down pat, before she eventually just has everything stocked in her home for when the time inevitably comes every month.

✧.* caitlyn is constantly checking in on you. she’ll ask you about every little thing, making sure that you’re not straining too hard, not in too much pain. you could be sitting on your bed, folding towels, and caitlyn would ask something like, “are you sure that’s not too much right now? if your back or stomach is hurting, i can take over.”

✧.* she’ll want to keep you at home with her on the days that are the hardest on you. the days where you’re groaning in pain, you can barely think straight from just how uncomfortable you are. when you’re an emotional mess from the mood swings and crying over a puppy you saw on the street. she wants to be there to comfort you and help you get back on your feet.

✧.* “shh… love, it’s fine. i know, that puppy was adorable.” you’d sniffle, looking up at her with pleading eyes. “can we get one, cait? please?” she’d chuckle quietly, letting out a heavy sigh. “maybe when i don’t have so much on my plate.”

✧.* she's on top of your every need. in pain? here's a bottle of painkillers. cravings? she's already got whatever you need. in the case that she doesn't, caitlyn is in the kitchen making something for you herself. she'll be damned if she lets her girlfriend go unsatisfied, especially on her period.

✧.* she'd be so doting especially when it comes to the pain, caitlyn wants to just hold you until all of the cramps are gone. realistically, she knows there's not much she can do besides offer a few over-the-counter methods. she's gonna have to wait until they run their course, but it doesn't make her want to cling to you any less. she wishes she could hold you and you'd feel the rest of the world melt away

✧.* "fuck, cait, it hurts," you'd whimper, clinging tight to the girl with your brows knitted together. she'd softly hush you, her one hand slipping under the fabric of your top to run soothing circles over your lower back. "i know, darling. i'm here, it'll be alright."

✧.* cait would run you warm baths as well, she's at your side the entire times. she'll throw in flower petals and salts, maybe even a bath bomb if it'll make you happy. not only will it help ease the pain, but making you feel cared for in this time is of the upmost importance to her. yes, you feel gross, but you don't have to! look at the nice bath she drew you! she'll even help wash you off if you need it, or she's happy to just stay by your side and talk to you as you soak.

maddie;

✧.* maddie's own are pretty moderate, but she has a cut-and-dry routine she's stuck to as a teenager. works like a charm every time her period rolls around, so she hopes those methods will work for you. though, if they don't, maddie will immediately stop and regroup.

✧.* maddie i don't think would be super in tune with everything.. i apologize. she'll connect the dots after she sees you hunched over in pain or with a bottle of painkillers in one hand and a tub of ice cream in the other, but she won't be able to pick up on it right away like some others might.

✧.* but that doesn't make her any less good at comforting you, let's make that abundantly clear. as soon as she catches onto what's happening, she's basically waiting on you hand and foot. maddie is devoted!

✧.* now of course, she's a junior officer. maddie can't be by your side as often as she'd like to, unfortunately. she likes her job, but sometimes she curses it for holding her back from her girlfriend in times of need.

✧.* so she second she's allowed off the job, she's swinging the door open with a bag full of snacks to make her presence known. "i'm home, darlin'! where are ya?" she'd announce, glancing around the empty space before her eyes land on you. "oh, there you are. here, i brought these back! sorry, i know i was gone for a while, but i'm here now, yeah?"

✧.* however, you'll have to ask for a lot of what you need. maddie knows that you're independent and capable of helping yourself, so she doesn't want to assume unless she knows for sure that you're incapable of it because of pain or discomfort. that's one of the things she doesn't really budge on. if you're able to voice what's bothering you, she'll be more than happy to be of help!

✧.* also really, really good at distracting you. she'll put on movies, plug in cassettes of your favorite albums, talk to you for hours on end about nothing and everything simultaneously. maddie figures that if she can take your mind off of it, that's better than just waiting out the discomfort.

✧.* she kinda sucks at cooking. sorry.. but! she'd still make sure any cravings of yours are filled. freezer is packed to the brim with ice cream, and she's got lots of sugary treats for you in her cupboards. i also would imagine she lives basically smack in the middle of piltover, next to a lot of vendors and convenience stores. so on the off-chance she doesn't have something you need, she's already on her way to grab it for you.

✧.* "i'll be right back, okay? just running around the corner. rest assured."

✧.* also so cuddly especially when it comes to being in bed with you. she's already clingy, but you might have to pry her off of you when you're on your period. she hopes you wouldn't want to, though, not when she's got her legs wrapped around your waist and her head nestled into the warmth of your neck.

[hitlikehammers]

tremolo

…what if instead of learning clarinet or percussion, you could learn to read the music of hearts? 💕

rating: t ♥️ cw: love at first sight, car crash (off-screen), SUCH FLUFF ♥️ tags: ✨magical realism au, musician eddie munson, paramedic steve harrington, kinda soulmates (it makes more sense with the magical realism part), character study, softness

for @steddielovemonth day one: "Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet." —Plato

It was just like learning any instrument, really.

At least what they tried to convince Eddie to believe at the tender age of nine.

But it was all about finding an aptitude, apparently. Developing a talent. Fourth grade rolls around and he fucks up blowing with a reed, manages to give himself a tongue splinter. Nearly passes out on the brass. Ends up with the choir lady looking over horn-rimmed glasses and narrowing her eyes at him less like a teacher and more like a fortune teller or something, scrying what’s to come of him, like she can see through all that he is and will be, before she goes scribbling something on his little slip of paper already marking all the failed kinds of music he’ll never get to make and telling him: go to Room 011.

But no one ever goes to Room 011.

He meets a petite woman with mousy hair and clothes that look like they belong to someone else, somehow. She introduces herself as Miss L. She looks like a Miss L., so he doesn’t think any further on the point.

You will not play much, really, she tells him, and the way she talks is kinda funny, like she learned words but not from people actually saying them out loud. Eddie kinda likes it, though. The playing is only for emergencies, and if you find your True Note.

Eddie doesn’t know what most of that means, except for the fact that the whole point of trying—and failing—at all the instruments was to join the school band with something to play. So if that’s not what he’s going to learn, then what the heck is Eddie meant to be doing down here—is what he wants to ask.

He manages a little politer version of the same, his nan’d be proud. His dad wouldn’t care even if he was around and not behind bars. His uncle might be happy that Eddie’s kept his nose clean just this one time. So he figures he does okay.

But really, he just wants an answer. He was supposed to get to learn music. It was the one thing that was keeping this whole year feeling like he could maybe, maybe survive it.

It also means he doesn’t have to take the art class that’s mostly kindergarten crafts instead of real art, so.

“You will be learning music,” Miss L. answers, more patient than most grownups; “you are here to learn how to read the songs that hearts sing.”

And that is, by far, in all of his whole nine years of living, the most fucking absurd sentence that Eddie has ever heard.

——

He’d kinda thought it was a joke, when he left that first afternoon to get back before Language Arts.

Turned out: nope. It was not.

He’d maybe thrown something slightly less childish than a tantrum, when what he got was a big set of earphones and a box the size of an Easy-Bake Oven, where apparently he’d be playing some kind of recordings to start his lessons.

“Do you not wish to learn?” Miss L. asked so simply, and Eddie…

Eddie reminded himself that no matter how foolish and stupid this was, it couldn’t possibly be worse than making construction paper collages with Elmer’s glue, so.

He put the headphones on and pressed play.

——

His workbooks didn’t look like anyone else’s in band—in fact, Eddie didn’t think he was actually a part of the class band, like, he wasn’t expecting to play at the spring concert with the flutes and the trombones, anymore. When he had sheets of staves to fill out they didn’t have straight lines. He didn’t draw different circles with little flags and bridges connecting them. He…

“When there are no keys, and there is no time signature,” Miss L. had explained, and it took time to make any sense; “you are the rules, and you feel what is a melody,” she’d tapped something that feltbeautiful, like daffodils blooming, though Eddie couldn’t say why; “and what is a warning.”

And then she’d tapped again, and it clenched in Eddie’s chest like a tornado siren, and…yeah.

That was kind of the best explanation he could have asked for.

——

It’s in middle school, when everyone else gets new band directors while Eddie sticks with Miss L., that it starts to…well.

That’s when the fact that Eddie’s alone in his lessons, and no one seems to know quite what he does—and the other kids who get that kind of treatment are usually the ones who can’t add or spell right, who have some kind of problem to work on extra hard—but it’s around then that Eddie starts being called names for it.

It’s not too bad, at first. Eddie’s worked for his two full years of elementary school lessons to get through recognizing the songs, suffers the point where recognizing becomes unbearable, overwhelming—Miss L. never left his side when he held his head in pain for all the noise, all the songs because they were everywhere, in everyone, and how was he supposed to learn what was right and what was good and what was just okay but then what was also everything the opposite when he couldn’t even think—

But she taught him the tools, the ways to sift through the chatter, as she called it. Because not all of it was a warning; not all of it was bad just because it wasn’t beautiful.

Some of the noise just was.

She showed him how to trust his own ear; his own song in his own chest as a guide, because that’s why he was here: he had a gift, an aptitude, built in and in need of development. Liked they’d said in the beginning.

He’s nearly thirteen when she teaches him how to write his own songs, in the not-notes and the no-tempos. In the nameless flow of sound.

It’s when his classmates overhear one of those works-in-progress, the taunting gets worse, starts to hedge toward unbearable.

Until Eddie asks if he can just stop: quit this. It’s not worth it. He doesn’t want to be a freak.

“It is a rite of passage, to ask this,” Miss L. says slowly, no judgement, and weirdly no pity; “but I should tell you first,” and her eyes narrow more than Eddie thinks he’s ever seen them.

“Your skill is already greater than any I have seen, and is only getting sharper, more keen.”

And hell if a teacher’s ever said something niceabout Eddie Munson, let alone something that sounds like flat-out praise.

“They cannot hear the music, this is why they say those things,” she flicks her wrist less like conducting a chorus and more like shooing a gnat, like that’s the appropriate amount of consideration the comments deserve. “Your task has always been to teach them what they do not know, to show them the wonder they are ignoring as they live and breathe.”

And while it really would have been nice to know that before signing up for this…this what, calling? Vocation?

While that would’ve been nice, Eddie…Eddie can at least mostly understand he wouldn’t have understood any of it in the fourth grade.

He barely understands now.

But he can feel it. He understands how to feel the music that fills all those gaps.

“This is common,” Miss L. turns back to him, steeples her fingers while humming something from the radio: not bad, but not beautiful. That’s what she means, he realizes. The radio plays common.

“This,” and she puts a hand over her own chest and keeps time with her fingers on the tabletop as she hums a wholly novel thing out of thin air, and Eddie has never seen someone else recognize the music, has never watched someone compose in the veins where the songs that hearts sing are played, let alone in real time; maybe she never had because he had to lean for himself, first.

But it is kind of exquisite to witness.

“This,” she stops, and raises a brow pointedly in Eddie’s direction; “is human, built in your cells.”

Eddie couldn’t name why, precisely, but he feels…shamed, but also empowered. So different, but they make an almost compelling melody together as they clash.

“They will call you freak before they call you prodigy,” Miss L. says it like a fact, which…kinda sucks to hear, in all honesty.

“They will label you insane, before they recognize you as genius,” and the way she adds that part makes him feel like that was her personal burden to bear, and he aches for her in it.

“They will cry out garbage and nonsense,” and here, these words: these are the ones Eddie knows immediately he’s meant to be hearing, be weaving into notes the strongest, the ones she wants him to keep closest and never lose:

“They will cry out worthless,” she spits out with a venom he’s never heard her use; “before they will sob in the face of your masterworks, and how they will breathe magic in the soul.”

And…Eddie doesn’t know exactly what to do in the face of the conviction she says that last part with. To doubt it, as he instinctively wants to, feels vile; the most egregious disrespect. He can’t bring himself to even try. So, he asks instead, voice rough:

“When will it change?”

Because despite everything: he doesn’t want to be a freak.

“That I cannot say,” she sighs, and she does sound sorry; “and it may never change at all.”

Eddie doesn’t know if he’s built to handle that, the possibility of never.

“But even if you leave, here and now,” Miss L. cuts into his despairing; “even if you stop your learning, the songs will never leave you.”

Oh.

Oh, so did they…did they teach him to hear a endless goddamn curse, and as a fucking kid—

“You would always have come to hear them,” Miss L. must read his mind, or maybe just his face; “just never with any place to funnel the noise,” and he…guesses he should be grateful. He nearly went mad in those early years, before she taught him how to make new melodies, concertos the likes of which even the great masters hadn’t penned, because they played in a different medium. Their notes and structured time were useful, but limited.

And if they never heard otherwise, how would even the most brilliant talents know what they were passing over, leaving behind?

“Do you still wish to leave?”

Eddie turns, almost having forgotten Miss L. was still sitting there, watching him. Almost having forgotten what he’d come to ask, to give up.

There’s no question left, now.

He gets out his notebook, his pen, and starts as he always does.

With the listening.

——

It’s a genuine distraction—the songs get louder with time, but Miss L. tells him that’s a sign of his skill growing, his notice of the equivalents of key signatures and ligature notes in the heartbeats he passes every day—but it costs him passing senior year once, and then again, and almost a third time until by the skin of his teeth, he manages. While every other teacher shames him for it, derides him as incurably stupid, or at the very least unambitious to the point of embarrassment, the extra years mean more time with Miss L., and Eddie…most days, Eddie is nothing but thankful.

More time means Eddie also learns that the songs he hears are as much a public service as they are an art form, as much a defense mechanism as a craft. He knows when bullies are on the prowl, and to make himself scarce for their screeching cacophonies. He knows when he has to be less of a coward and step in when a wild rhythm makes him sick with its fear.

The more he pays attention to the not-quite-beautiful songs—especially when he thinks on them later and stumbles upon nuggets of the exquisite inside every way they weren’t—the more he remembers years ago, out of almost nowhere, but maybe…maybe everywhere, like it’d been written in his heart’s song the day she spoke it:

“My first day,” he enters the same room—not the same-same room but the one in the high school that’s as abandoned as all of them have been, always Room 011—but he enters the room close to the end of the year, the last year, with the question thick on his tongue, and woven the same in his song as he closes the door and feels his heartbeat quicken for no reason and every reason, like he’s long learned these songs always do.

Miss L., for her part, just nods; waits.

“You said,” Eddie rolls his lips together; “emergencies.”

It’s a delay tactic. They both know it.

She’s kind to play along.

“Mmm,” she hums; “the slightest bits, yes, you can shift the rules to change the song, because you made the rules to begin with,” she eyes him carefully, then. “But only by bits, and in only the most dire moments.”

Yeah, yeah, sure. He never thought he could like…write lines to coax a heart to sing itself back from the dead or some shit. He gets the point.

Again, they both know: that’s not the point he’s here for, heart pounding high in his throat.

“But then you also said something else.”

This time, she doesn’t nod at all; just stares. Eddie has to clear his throat twice to make a sound so as to ask:

“What’s a True Note?”

Because Eddie’s had a couple flings here and there. And the idea of anything real with someone else, alongside the weight of this…talent of his, this training that’s defined half his life by now: it’s really nothing more than a stray idea. But Eddie can’t really hide from the fact that, somewhere along the way, he’s suffused that idea with so much promise and potential, but with no legs for it to fucking stand on.

And he’s about to graduate. About to go out into the world and…who the fuck knows what.

He needs to either hold onto this insane, silly notion of some cosmic meant-to-be match waiting for him somewhere, that it’s at least possible, and then hold on to it like burning—or let it go, and get on with the rest of his fucking life.

“Do you know how I said you could sway the rhythm just the littlest bit, in the greatest of need?”

Of course he did. She literally just said it.

“Your True Note will sing like you have never heard before,” she tells him like it’s not something…immense; “and that song will sway your rhythm so much more than the littlest of anything.”

She just fucking says it, like it isn’t already swaying the rhythm his heart sings in. Here and now.

“That heartsong will change your world.”

And all Eddie can even think to ask, to make more plain in it, is just one thing:

“Will I change theirs, too?”

Miss L’s eyes lock to his and hold for enough seconds where it should be uncomfortable, where his chest starts to grow unbearably tight.

“Hmm,” she considers finally; “if it is meant to be that way.”

Eddie wants to scream. It’s not enough.

And still somehow, it will have to be.

——

In the months that follow his freedom, he misses Miss L. Kinda desperately.

But the lack of structure, the openness of knowing he has to find a way to piece together all the snippets of song he’s bombarded with: it is the reason he ever picks up a guitar. It’s the whole learning heartsongs thing that he has to thank for it, a roundabout journey toward the destination he’d wanted from the beginning.

Or else, that he thought he did.

It’s not just guitar, though. He eventually learns the woodwinds without ending up with a splinter in his mouth. Figures out the different harmonies at hand in making sure he tempers the way he breathes for the brass. He loves the piano, and the cello especially, alongside guitar and double bass: he makes a trip back home specifically to see her and ask—Miss L. tells him it’s probably because of their strings, like hearts have, too.

It feels right in a way things haven’t felt in a very long time.

Which is really how he comes to not only understand, but to accept in his bones: no matter if they ever call him prodigy or genius, if he ever plays a concert hall or anywhere but on a street corner with an open case for change, he was made for this; built for this. The woman with the horn-rimmed glasses who sent him to the basement music room saw it in him. Miss L. proved it to him by teaching him to prove it to himself. He doesn’t know if he’d have picked it, but he knows it was never something he could have picked or turned down in the first place at all: it’s who he is.

He is the music. He is the songs that hearts use for singing. And maybe someday he’ll meet someone who sees it in him, and hears his song, and sings ecstatic. Maybe.

He hopes.

But either way: this is his life.

This is his melody.

——

It takes years before they do sob for his masterpieces, for them to be ready for a style and cadence they don’t understand because they will never comprehend the language, that speaks deeper than the logic required for any of those rules. It takes a long fucking time before they start listening with the lens of the first song any of them ever learned. But the time does come, and Eddie is grateful, because he’d genuinely feared the maybe-never he’d been warned about. He’s glad that’s not where he is, now.

But now? Things start to happen almost unbearably fast. Shows here and flights there, guest appearances and interviews, record labels and live recordings, a book deal he can’t even begin to think about. The world tips on its axis and Eddie only really considered that happening to him for one reason: because of a song so beautiful, in a Note so True—this isn’t that.

But everything still feels upside down anyway; totally off-kilter.

He’s crossed ten time-zones this time. He’s exhausted, but he has a performance tonight, just like he did in the tonight of the place he just left. The car he’s in on his way to the next venue is sleek, like they all are now; his team is already there preparing, so it’s just him and some local hires he hasn’t even had a chance to learn the names of yet, which he hates. He hates being privy to their songs and not even knowing their names, let alone their stories.

He jots the notes he gleans from how they sing without their words on the drive across town anyway. Waste not, and all that.

Eddie has the pen in hand, cap between his teeth, when the truck plows straight into them.

What follows would be unsurprising, if Eddie could process it from a bystander’s point of view—as it is, the only thing he knows in the melee is the music.

He is devastated, as he reaches out for the slowing songs around him, knowing in the back of his mind what their slacking tempos mean, and marveling with something like horror at how beautiful each one is as it starts to fade: still unique, still something Eddie could braid into a piece, certainly one to draw tears.

His own song is ebbing, he knows, but it’s less important than the sweet melodies around him, especially—

Oh.

Eddie thinks, with what may be the last thought left to him as pressure and heat and pain tingle at the edges of the music, almost too strong now to be drowned out by the notes that are what Eddie is at his core: but he thinks he may be too far gone already, because what he begins to hear is…

Exultant. It’s…

If Eddie believed in a heaven, this would be what the hosts there sang. When the idea of divinity is bandied about, they can only ever be talking about some cheap imitation of what Eddie hears now. Luminous. Effervescent.

Beautiful in a way that exceeds the word itself so deeply that it barely fits, obliterates the notion on sight.

And what a gift, Eddie muses as everything dims to black, to hear such Notes, such perfect music as the last thing he has to hold onto in the end.

To end on something that’s True.

——

The next tones Eddie hears are mechanical. He winces—not bad but certainly not beautiful—and then winces harder because wincing itself fucking hurts.

He holds himself still, seeks the song he knows in his own veins: yes, and he’d been so sure it was gone, because there’d be an accident, a crash, he’d been thrown, crushed, songs all around him were dying and he’d heard the magnificent symphony of otherworldly perfection so—

“I’m technically not supposed to be here,” a voice interjects, or no: drips in leisurely, like comfort, like honey; “because you’re a patient, and I’m,” and Eddie forces his eyes open to see the voice come out of a man, who is pointing at his chest: a uniform. Medical.

“I’m not dead?”

All signs do point that direction but…Eddie had been kinda fairly sure he was done for.

“God,” the man chokes like he’s pained, like the idea hurts him, and why; “no,” and he says that a little fiercely, protective almost; “though not for lack of an effort.”

He looks tired, as Eddie’s vision starts to clear some more. He looks radiant. Exquisite.

Beautiful.

“You saved me?”

Because Eddie clocks the uniform now: paramedic. The ones who come onto the scenes and try like hell to save who they can. Heroes.

“I helped,” the beautiful man says, like a hero would, of course. But…it still doesn’t make sense. If the man does this for his job, then Eddie isn’t special, so then why is he so vehement, and then what of all the fading songs Eddie remembers, because Eddie had heard—

“What about,” he starts, but there’s a hand over his quickly, soothing.

“Everyone’s here, different wards,” the hero-beauty tells him in lows tones; “we don’t know if they’ll all make it through the night, but,” he nods, like…this is enough.

And it is. Except…

“How?”

And where Eddie is baffled, his hero just quirks a brow.

“Don’t tell me you never covered emergencies?” he asks skeptically. “Most dire moments, greatest of need?”

And it’s with those words that Eddie’s world slows very quickly to a halt. The music swells in a way he’s never known: because it’s always present to hear.

Buts it’s never been so tangible to feel, not like this, and with such…magnificence, no lesser word could touch it. Maybe he truly is closer to death than not, maybe that’s the reason for the fervor in this man he doesn’t know—the choirs of the angels Eddie wasn’t banking on swells and is visceral, and this hero sits before him, speaks the words that have haunted Eddie more days of his life than not, and—

“This was where the music took my life,” the man pulls at his collar, indicative again: the heroism. He…he saves people, because he, he also hears…

“But I couldn’t have done it without you.”

His hand on Eddie’s tightens, like gratitude, and Eddie…gapes like a fucking fish, and then—

“There’s something else.”

“Not just here to check up on the fruits of your medical miracle?” Eddie’s tongue feels heavy, thick in his mouth; he feels sluggish all over, weighted down and like he can barely move because…this man hears the music that hearts make.

Can he hear the ineffable beauty, like Eddie can? He must, that’s how it works, so why is he not in the same amount of awe—

“Not just,” the man smiles small, but real, a little hesitant. A little…shy, maybe, before he straightens, leans a little closer.

“Watch that screen,” and he tracks Eddie’s gaze until Eddie’s fixed upon the ECG, the most disappointing distillation of the songs he’s learned to find so much wonder in.

But then the man is pressing Eddie’s hand to his own chest, which…is forward, given they don’t even know each other.

Eddie is maybe still on, or at least just-recently-off, death’s door, and either way he’s fucking thrilledwith this development, warm beneath his palm.

“Now count.”

It only takes a moment, to put the gestures together into a statement.

The beat under his touch matches the line across the screen. Exactly.

But this man’s not the one attached to the monitor.

“Got it?”

Eddie nods, and the man doesn’t hesitate, lifts Eddie’s hand and presses it back to Eddie’s own chest.

“Again.”

And that’s…that’s not the same rhythm as the one on the screen; the songs don’t match at all.

But Eddie can still hear the one that does—the beauty. The exaltation.

“Can you,” Eddie asks, lifts his finger that’s got a clip on it, and the man’s a professional, he’ll understand—looks less than conflicted about disconnecting Eddie from wires and leads before clipping his own finger and letting the screen shift to a new cadence.

The same one under Eddie’s hand, in Eddie’s own chest.

“Holy fuck.”

“Yeah,” the man barely breathes, and Eddie notices now how intense his eyes are, focused solely on Eddie, and…Eddie remembers the words that came after the ones about emergencies. About how little he could help, but that he could still do something.

But with only one person, it could be—

“You didn’t just sway my rhythm,” Eddie half-gasps; “you made it your own.”

And oh: Eddie never tied the song of hearts to the song of laughter, but from this man, the huff of incredulous joy that slips from him now—they’re made wholly of the same stuff.

Symphonic. Staggering. Weeping to feel this much, in the soul, to be privy to such a…

Masterpiece.

“Worked both ways, it seems.”

“I heard you,” Eddie blurts out, because it makes sense now; “before I, when I thought I was,” dying, when he thought it was all over; “like I’ve never heard anything before.”

And now: of course this man hears the heavenly movement Eddie thought was a mercy before the end but was instead the arrival of everything he’d ever hoped to one day find, literally coming to rescue him in more ways than one; but that song is somehow commonplace to this unfathomable angel on the earth.

And what this man hears stronger, louder, dearer seems somehow to be Eddie, the song he sings from the chest, in how it’s causing those caramel eyes to glimmer, and to barely blink lest they miss something in just…Eddie.

“You never stopped,” the man says with urgency, with feeling; “your song never stopped,” and then he’s closing his eyes and laying both his hands over his own chest, where Eddie’s heartsong is ringing full and maybe changing his world, because the song in Eddie’s chest sure as hell has already changed his, and—

“It’s extraordinary.”

And Eddie, in years of ridicule, in months of celebration, in all the ups and downs and doubts and hopes this life of songs and hearts and rhythms and beats has left him with, in all of it—

Those two words rewrite his whole fucking being.

“True Note,” Eddie mouths more than speaks before he scoffs; “shit, but that seems like a really fucking inadequate thing to call it,” and his eyes lift to take in the man who he knows, he knows is going to be his magnum opus, or more: is going to write the magnum opus they will be and breathe and share from here to all ends:

“To call you.”

And there’s the clearest sense of a trip in a beat, but who it belongs to isn’t clear, and maybe that’s the reality for them both now: every subtlety of the song is now shared, now theirs.

“You could start with Steve.”

Eddie looks up, breath a little heavy, but the smile on the man’s face is broad and kind of overjoyed, kind of looks like Eddie’s chest feels:

“My name’s Steve.”

And that?

Best damn title for a symphony Eddie’s ever fucking heard.

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divider credit here

[always1star]

the time we were together

toxic!sukuna x fem!reader (although can be read as gn?)

tags: angst, college au, cursing, arguments, use of y/n, alludes to sex (but nothing explicit, i dont write smut), cheating, yearning, closure, happiest ending i could make tbh, no part 2 im sorry

a/n: i didn't mean to write this but for some reason it just happened so enjoy my first fic lol. also this is NOT PROOFREAD

WC: 2.7k

You and Sukuna have been going out for some time now, maybe about five months. You met him at some random frat party. You had just been broken up with by your boyfriend of two years, and so you went to a party and took anything and everything anyone gave you. You were feeling super sick and all you really wanted was solace. After a while of sulking in the corner of this random disgusting frat house, you decided it was time to go home, as at this point you were high and drunk completely out of your mind. You gathered your things and attempted to stumble your way to some kind of exit. On your way out, you accidentally ran into this huge hunk of a man with bold tattoos. You started sobbing when he caught you, tears staining and fists clenching his shirt. He was absolutely bewildered and as people had begun to stare, he grudgingly took you home. After that night, you kept running into this random man you sobbed to on campus, and the rest was history. 

Although you and Sukuna have been going relatively steady for a while, you had hit a point in your relationship in which all you did was argue. And it is generally understood that after the honeymoon stage everyone often disputes with their partners, but Sukuna was terribly vicious. He often brought up how insecure you were, how it was your fault you were raised the way you were, how easily he could replace you. To say the least, Sukuna was an ass. He damaged your core like no one else could and it desperately hurt you to be with him. Still, you stayed by his side because you loved him, and hoped he felt the same way. You hoped because he would hold you as you cried, kissing away your tears, and whispering how sorry he was. You always forgave him, even if he did it time and time again. 

During the first stages of your relationship, Sukuna welcomed your presence. You two hung out often, and although not ordinary dates (he often took you to race on his motorcycle or would take you to sketchy parties), you had fun and were happy because he was there with you. Sukuna never was really into speaking reassuring or affirming words, but instead showed his affection with his actions. His hands would always be roaming your body, and you liked feeling the warmth of another person. He did things without you asking, like buying something you mentioned you liked or holding you even when you swore you were ok. While you smiled brightly and thanked him, he would just grumble “it’s whatever.” You would always laugh and giggle with him, and even though he never really laughed back himself, he entertained it. Sometimes you would catch him staring, and there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite name. There was no doubt that he held a sentiment of adoration for you, maybe he even loved you. But now? His eyes only seemed to hold disappointment, anger, and annoyance. 

You had known from the second you met him that it would not be easy to be with him. He’s got a difficult, harsh, and cruel demeanor. You had hoped that maybe he wasn’t really like that, and that maybe he just had this bad-boy delinquent front to cover his vulnerabilities. Well, you were right, to say the least. But is the Ryomen Sukuna really going to be vulnerable around you, some random girl he met a few months ago that he just likes to use as a bed warmer? Hell no. You meant absolutely nothing to him and he couldn’t seem to get that message through your head. All this time, you thought that maybe he was just being difficult but that didn’t change the fact that he still maybe held a passion for you. 

One night, a particularly bad argument came up. It started as something that was completely meaningless. Him coming home a little late, you telling him you were too busy to cook dinner and that tonight you guys should just go get takeout, him mumbling that he was too tired to go out and that it’s nothing you can’t do on your own because you were a big girl and could handle these things. You apologized but said you, too, were too tired, and therefore did not want to cook. Sukuna’s temper just kind of blew up. “Are you fucking kidding me? You can’t even do this one little thing? You aren’t fucking helpless, Y/N. I’ve spent all day studying and working for you, and how dare you still expect more shit from me? Haven’t I given you fucking enough?” He threw his hands up in irritance, shouting at you, the previous exhaustion in his voice seemingly gone. “I’m sorry, I was just busy tod-” you tried to reason, but he quickly interrupted. “Busy? You were fucking busy? How the hell do you think I feel, huh?” He was walking towards you, and you were being backed into the kitchen counter. “Are you useless? No! You can’t even do small shit like this. How unloveable can you possibly be?” He continued to ramble and yell into your face, but you stopped listening. You rapidly tried to blink your tears away and to calm your shaky hands. Did he really just say that? You’re unloveable?

Eventually, Sukuna left the apartment with nothing but his coat and his car keys, mumbling something about how this is fucking unbelieveable under his breath as he slammed the front door shut. Your ears were ringing due to the newfound silence, the only thing being heard was your staggered breathing. 

A couple of days later, Sukuna still had not returned to your apartment. You assumed he had gone back to his. Neither of you had spoken a word to each other in two days, and you were becoming restless. You had to apologize to him, whether you were at fault or not. You texted him you were on your way as you started your car. You noted that as you were on your way, he never replied to your message. You approached his front door and rummaged through your purse to find the spare key to his apartment. As you unlocked the door, you took a deep breath in and recited your apology in your head. 

When you opened the door, the apartment was relatively cleaner than it usually was, save for the clothes littering the floor. Your brows furrowed as you noted a pink camisole and bra on the floor. Those definitely weren’t yours. Your heart was rapidly thumping, the sound filling your ears. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, and stormed off to find Sukuna.

You burst through his bedroom door to see a naked Sukuna and some girl you’ve never seen before. You watched as her eyes widened and as she scrambled to find some way to cover herself. She ran out the door past you. You were still standing in the doorway, frozen in shock. You held your mouth slightly agape, unsure of what to say or do next. Unperturbed, Sukuna sighed as got up from the bed to find his shorts somewhere on the floor. He ran his hand through his sweaty, almost drenched hair. Wasn’t he being way too casual about this? You found the strength in yourself to speak up. “How could you do this to me?” you weakly spoke, sounding as fragile as your now shattered heart. Sukuna put on his shorts and looked at you without shame, an agitated look painting his face. “I don’t owe you an explanation.” He continued to find his shirt. “What? We’re dating Sukuna. You can’t just-” you stammered, and he stopped you right there. “I’m not your boyfriend and you’re not my girlfriend,” he articulated every word like it was the most obvious thing ever. Your heart dropped. “And clearly, you didn’t think that. I liked what we had, Y/N. But if you’re going to be all possessive like this, then we should end things.” What was he saying? “What? Suku-” He deeply sighed and his voice began to rise. “Get out! Don’t make me say it again.”

Ryomen Sukuna had broken your heart. Really, he stole it from your chest and smiled at you as he crushed it in his hands. The next week after the “break up” for you was absolutely terrible. You skipped all of your classes, meals, and sleep. You just wallowed in bed, wondering what could possibly make you so unloveable. To think that he never really loved you – wait, did he really never love you at all? You recalled that you never said I love you. Those three words held a heavy weight, but you were thinking about how you didn’t need to say it to prove your devotion to him. It kinda made sense now. You should have never assumed your place in a man’s heart who didn’t have room for anyone, let alone you.

--------------------------------

Five months later…

Sukuna found it nice to be freely sleeping around again, finding himself at parties, clubs, bars, always having a girl on his side. Sukuna always woke up next to a new girl every morning (girls he never remembers the names of), quickly kicking her out so he didn’t have to deal with whatever she thought was between them. He would go on late night rides with his friends (that you never really liked) and would come home to drink a cold beer wearing only his boxers. Life was good to him.

But as Sukuna came home one night after a thrilling night out, he thought it just wasn’t as fun as it used to be. He plopped down on the couch and cracked open a beer and turned on his TV. Still, he felt something was missing. Maybe he missed the thrill of making it home and spewing lies to the girl in his bed. Maybe he missed the heated arguments and sorry's just to repeat the cycle. . Maybe he missed coming home to a home-cooked meal. Maybe he missed the warmth of another person. Maybe he missed hearing a certain voice. Maybe he missed waking up to a familiar face. Maybe, he missed you. Wait, what? That’s not true. He shook the thought away, thinking that he just missed having authority over someone. 

He was obviously lying to himself. Sukuna wondered what could fill this odd feeling in his heart. It was evident that the sex, drugs, and alcohol was no longer doing its part for him. He stopped going out and now spent his time in silence and solitude. He began to think about you, and he wondered what you were doing. He wondered how you would react if you saw him again. He wondered what you did after you lost contact with him. He wondered what you looked like now, if you were just as beautiful.

He needed to find you, whether it was for the closure for his flaming conscience or that needed to know if you still felt the same in his arms, he didn’t know. What was he feeling bad for now? Sukuna was never one to have genuine apologies or have feelings of guilt in shame. What was it about you that made him feel this way? Sukuna wanted – no, needed to put a label on this aching feeling, and then throw it out. 

It was a new semester, and Sukuna hadn’t seen you around campus. He realized that he still really wanted to see you, but he knew you wouldn’t react well. He didn’t care too much though, he just wanted to fix whatever was wrong with him. 

One day, Sukuna saw you on campus in the courtyard that was in front of one of your major’s buildings. You looked the happiest he had ever seen you. A smile was plastered on your face as you laughed with some friends. The same smile that he struck off your face. Sukuna used to think he liked your crying face more than anything, he thought your stupid smile was childish, but now he thought you looked so beautiful smiling. He silently watched you, something holding him back from approaching you.

Sukuna often spotted you in front of your building, and he longed to talk to you again. If he was watching you so often, of course you were going to see him too. One day, you spotted him. He tried to play it off by clearing his throat and looking away, but when he looked at you again, you smiled. You… smiled? Even after all the humiliation and suffering he put you through, you smiled at him. You seemed to wave off to your friends and began to speed walk to him. He panicked a little.

“It’s nice to see you again! I hope you’re doing well,” you greeted and waved to him. It hurt him to see that you were still kind and genuine even after all that he did to you. “Hi, um… it’s nice to see you too… How are you doing?” he awkwardly replied. Sukuna was always one to hold pride and confidence, but upon seeing you he seemed to lose all of it. “I’m really good! This semester is kind of kicking my ass but I’m still trying to stay positive, haha,” you beamed. He nodded once as a reply and a silence enveloped the both of you. He stared at you, and you really did look happy. He sighed and spoke up, “Y/N, I never really got the chance to say sorry. I know that I have done so much wrong to you, but please, can you forgive me? I feel like what I did to you is burning a hole through my heart, and I just can’t bear to think that I could do that to someone as pure as you,” Sukuna began to beg. It was odd to see a guy who never bent down to anyone, who put himself on a pedestal ranging miles higher than anyone else, beg. 

You thought for a second, taking in the unfamiliar sorrow gracing his strong features. You eventually spoke, “Sukuna, I loved you, did you know that?” His eyes slightly widened and he nodded slowly. You continued, “The whole time I was with you, I wasn’t sure if you loved me too. It hurts to be around you.” He nodded again, breaking eye contact to stare at his shoes. “I can’t quite forgive you for what you did to me, but I want you to know that if you find your happiness, then I will always be cheering you on for it. Don’t mess up next time.” Although your words held the heaviness of your feelings, you still smiled at him. Sukuna felt a throbbing in his chest. God, what did he do to you? What had he done? He desperately wanted to say, “my happiness is with you” but he felt that he didn’t have the right to. Sukuna felt tears in his eyes, all an unfamiliar feeling to him. He nodded once again to you, whispering a thank you. Not because you were offering your understanding, but because he wanted to thank you for being there for him, even when he couldn’t be there for you. Sukuna went off apologizing once again, clenching his fists to resist reaching out and hugging you. And, as if you read his mind, you quickly pulled him into your embrace. The two of you held each other, tearing brimming your eyes. The feeling of closure the two of you longed for was gained, and for a second all the resentment and pain was let go of, all that was left was love and understanding for each other. 

Sukuna watched you from afar sometimes. He had been hearing around that you were in a relationship… good for you. He hoped that whoever that weird tall white guy haired guy you were dating was, was treating you with all the love and respect that you deserve, all the love and respect that he couldn’t give you. And as he watched you laugh with some guy that wasn’t him, smiling ear to ear, he realized that happiness looked so good on you. To pay his repentance and to pay his final act of love to you, he gave a small somber smile at your radiating face for the last time, and turned around and walked away, now truly realizing the weight of his mistakes.

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 25/?

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻 From the author: My darlings, I finally wrote it 🫠🤭 I really hope you like the scene in Jungkook's room, and the continuation of the storyline. Let me know what you think, I'm always so happy to read your comments ❤️‍🔥💞

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and LOVE you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad, @kelsyx33, @bhonbhon, @unholyforjk, @ambiee3, @mianhae-baozi, @someoneelse0109, @medstudentlifestyle, @mskookie, @kooccult , @smokinghotstargirl, @curse-of-art (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 25. Black Dust.

Jungkook has parked the car in front of his parents' house. Together you dropped your parents home twenty minutes ago, after spending the evening together, where you and Jungkook confessed that you were dating. To say that your parents were happy is an understatement.

They were stunned, but that quickly turned to joy. Your mothers were especially happy because they had wanted you to be together for a long time and thought you were the perfect couple. Your and Jungkook's fathers were also happy about the news, but because they are men, they were more reserved.

The joy of the news was as if you were announcing that you were getting married or having a baby. It's just a relationship, but who knows what it can grow into. It's exciting for you to think that you might marry Jungkook someday. It’s fact, that you really can't imagine anyone else but him as your match.

Jungkook offered to let you sleep at his place, because as his girlfriend, you can now sleep in the same room with him without hiding.

Yonok sat next to you, holding your hand. She was smiling sweetly at you when Jungkook and his father got out of the car.

"Y/N, my favorite girl. If you only knew how happy I am that you two are dating. I couldn't ask for a better girl for my boy." - Jungkook's mom says sincerely. Her words touch you. You lean against her.

"I'm glad we told you." - You say. "It actually came so naturally." - You say, referring to your relationship with Jungkook. Jungkook's mom smiles as she fixes your hair.

"I've secretly dreamed of you two being together. Your mom and I often talked about it. It seems our prayers have been answered." - You smile at her. You've been guessing about this. Your mom often praised Jungkook to you, and treated him like her own son. Jungkook's mom loved you just as much, so it was no wonder they wanted their children to be a couple.

Jungkook opened the back door of the car, looking at you with a smile. His father stood behind him, waiting for you.

"Are you going to sleep in the car?" - Jungkook asks you two. You and his mom hurried out.

Jungkook and his father went to his home office, and you stayed with Jungkook's mom. She gave you clothes to sleep in, because you left all your clothes at home, not planning to spend the night at Jungkook's place. She sent you to the bathroom and went to prepare your bed for sleep.

You went into the bathroom and locked the door. For some reason, you felt terribly tired. It seems you are not quite well yet. The emotions you experienced today have dulled your bad feeling. But now that you were alone, you thought you would literally collapse.

You took off your clothes. Your breasts hurt and were sensitive. You looked at them and saw that they were enlarged. No wonder. During your critical days, your breasts would grow by half a size. You had pads in your bag. You wanted to change one for the night, but you noticed that there was almost no blood. You are surprised because not only did your period start earlier, but it was also strangely.

You went into the shower, turned on the water and just stood under the stream of water. Warm water gently poured over your body, and you closed your eyes, trying to relax.

The feeling of fatigue and pain in your body gradually became less acute, although you were still concerned about the change in your state of health. You stood in the shower for a few minutes, just listening to the rustle of the water and letting your thoughts fade into the background.

Moments of the evening came back to you: your parents, their joy, Jungkook's mother's words... You felt your heart warm as your relationship with Jungkook became more and more real. And yet, in the midst of this joy, you felt a sense of anxiety - what would this mean for you and him in the future? Was it as simple as it seemed?

You remembered the way Jungkook looked at you today: with tenderness, care... And when your mother said so sincerely that she had always dreamed of you being together, your soul blossomed. You didn't know what would happen tomorrow, but it seemed that everything had its place, and this part of your life was just beginning.

You closed your eyes again, sliding your fingers over your skin, feeling its tenderness after the water. The tiredness began to recede, but you still felt how hard it was to keep your eyes open. It was time to get out of the bath.

You gently toweled yourself off, not wanting to rush, and then picked up the things Jungkook's mom had given you for sleeping. It was Jungkook's t-shirt. She offered you her nightgowns, but you said that his shirt was just like a normal nightgown and you would be comfortable sleeping in it. Jungkook's mom agreed to give you his things without any problems. When you came out of the bathroom, you saw her, and she had already made the bed. She was smiling when she saw you.

"Are you okay, my girl?" - She asked in a soft, caring voice. "You look tired."

You smiled in a tortured way. Your tiredness is still on your face. But no matter how much you didn't want to show it, it was obvious how much it was draining you, and it was good visible to Jungkook's mother's eyes.

"I'm fine, but I haven't been feeling well for about a week. I think it's because of busywork. I've started preparing for my thesis and I'm also working." - You answered quietly. Jungkook's mom looked at you carefully.

"Honey, are you working? Why do you need to work? Jungkook makes good money. You should quit and spend more time on yourself and your studies." - She advises you. You press your lips together.

"Oh, I know Jungkook makes good money..." - You say. You even know what he does for a living, but you skip over those details. "But I would like to have my own money. But studies will start soon, and I think it will."

Jungkook's mom nods her head in the affirmative, smiling. She comes over to you and touches your cheek with her palm. Her gaze is caring and gentle. You see so many of Jungkook's traits in her. He is very similar to his mother and this caring look at you now is similar to the one you receive from him.

"That's right, dear. It seems like there's no need to ask you to move into his apartment because it's obvious that you live together." - She says. You want to say something back, but she speaks first. "Tomorrow I suggest we have dinner together again. Because you're leaving on Monday morning, and then we don't know when you'll be back. I think another dinner with your parents would be nice." - She suggested.

"Yes, that would be great. I enjoyed tonight so much, I'm ready to do it again." - You support Jungkook's mom's proposal.

"Then it's a deal. Tomorrow I will need to go to the supermarket and market to buy the best food for my dear girl." - Yonok says and puts her hand on your shoulder.

"I can go with you. I can help you make dinner." - You offer to help.

"That would be great." - Jungkook’s mother says. You smile.

"Okay, I'm talking too much as usual. Get some rest, my good girl. Jungkook should be back soon..." - Jungkook's mom says, just as the owner of this room enters. Jungkook notices the two of you, and a slight smile graces his face.

"Mom, dad is looking for you. He can't find the charger for his phone. He says you should know because you cleaned the living room today." - Jungkook says, stepping deeper into the room. He gives you a quick glance. In just a second, he has time to run his eyes over your figure, but without being seen by you or his mother.

"Oh, that Yonho. He took her to his office last night. She should be there." - Jungkook's mother gets annoyed. She walks to the door of the room and stops at the door.

"Good night, my children. Sleep well." - She says. You bow and smile sincerely.

"Good night, omony. Thank you very much for your kindness and care." - You thank her. Jungkook's mother gives you a smile for the last time today, tells you she loves you, and leaves.

As the door closes behind her, you meet a pair of mischievous eyes that always come with a playful smile.

"This looks like my thing." - Said Jungkook to you. He walks over to you and clutches the edge of his T-shirt in his hands. You look at him, wondering what he's up to. Is he trying to seduce you? You had sex today. It was reconciliatory and hot, the way you both like it. But now you feel too tired. You don't have the energy for one more time tonight.

"That's my thing for today." - You say casually. But Jungkook just frowned a little, and grabbed your wrist and pulled you close. He looked at you with the same familiar look he always gives you when he's close.

Jungkook's hand, which had just been clutching the edge of your T-shirt, slides underneath. You feel his hand move up your thigh, leaving tangible marks. The hand ends up on your buttocks and squeezes the flesh. In one swift movement, he puts you closer, leaving not even the slightest distance between you. You hold back a scream that almost escapes your throat. Jungkook smiles slyly.

"You should have remembered that I'm greedy for my things. So you probably won't be wearing it tonight." - He says, leaning down to your lips. You rest your hands on his chest, feeling hardness and warmth of it.

"Do you really feel sorry for the T-shirt for me?" - You ask. Jungkook laughs softly.

"No. But every time I see you wearing my clothes, I have an urgent need to take them off." - Jungkook confesses. You smile.

"That explains a lot." - You say. In a moment, his other hand goes under your shirt. He squeezes your other buttock, pulling you closer to his already semi-hard length. You want to protest, but he kisses you. His lips capture yours, and a second later you feel his sweet tongue on yours.

Jungkook's lips move against yours, and your kiss becomes deeper and hotter. His hands hold you down, massaging your buttocks, and your heart starts to beat even faster, but you knew this wasn't the time for that. Even though your underwear was already damp.

"Love..." - You try to tear yourself away from his demanding lips. You need to stop it as soon as possible. Because if you don't stop in a moment, it will be too late. Jungkook leaves your lips and slides his hands down your neck. He stops kissing your lips and seems to just prolong kissing your neck. But he's touching your erogenous zones, and it's making you more excited. "Kook... we're at your parents' house..." - You say. Your breathing becomes labored. Jungkook steps on you, forcing you to move toward the bed, and your mind screams to stop it.

"Yes..." - He says when you're already leaning your feet to the bed. "This house is mine too, and this room is also mine." - He states playfully. You look at him skeptically. You didn't mean that.

"We're not alone. And your parents might come in..." - You explain. Jungkook thinks for a moment and then answers.

"I don't think my parents will come in. Everyone here is an adult, so they understand what we can do here." - He says. You lightly hit him on the chest, where your hand was. He only laughs softly in response.

"Why are you saying that?" - You are outraged. "Even if they understand, we're not supposed to do that here."

"What do you mean we shouldn't?" - Jungkook was surprised. "You didn't want us to have sex while we were visiting our parents?" - Jungkook assumed.

"Yes. I thought it wasn't a problem." - You said calmly. "Besides, I'm on my period." - You reminded him. Jungkook raised his eyebrows. He didn't hide the disappointment on his face.

"When did we not have sex during your period? And why do you think we can't make love here?" - Jungkook says indignantly. You don't want to upset him, but you're not feeling well, and you're really worried that Jungkook's parents might hear you. You kiss Jungkook's lips gently, without using your tongue, to calm him down. He squeezes your buttocks lightly.

"Your parents can hear us." - You say when you stop kissing him. Your faces are close together. You want to add that you're tired, but Jungkook speaks first, breaking into a cheerful smile.

"So that's the problem. You're afraid that my mom and dad will hear you screaming my name..." - Jungkook leans down to your ear, presses his hot lips to your skin, and you instantly shiver. "…when I’m will fucking your tight, little pussy?" - He whispers. Fuck, that dirty tongue. You're literally leaking from his words. Jungkook is horny too, and he's clearly not going to relieve himself on his own in the bathroom when he has you.

"Jungkook..." - His name sounds like an exhaled breath on your lips as Jungkook reaches into your underwear with his hand while kissing your neck. He touches your aroused clit and builds up your orgasm with circular, slow movements.

"Are you drip with moisture on my fingers but want to stop?" - He asks you, admiring your blissful face. You grabbed onto his shoulders to keep from falling, because your legs were softening in direct proportion to his movements on your clit. When his finger entered your passage, you moaned softly. "So? Maybe I should really stop?" - He says demandingly. He sounds like he's mocking you. Instead of putting you on the bed and fucking you, he asks if he should stop. "Because we might be overheard." - He says sarcastically, and you think you're going to hit him if he doesn't shut his mouth.

Suddenly, he sticks his finger out of your passage. You open your eyes and feel your pussy and passage throbbing with excitement. You want him to put his finger back in.

Jungkook defiantly licks the finger that was in your vagina a second ago with his tongue and grins slyly. You bite your lip, looking at this picture in front of you. And fuck, you get even more excited.

Jungkook easily frees himself from your arms, letting you go. He goes to the door and locks it.

He comes back to you and immediately pulls off your shirt. You're left in just your panties and Jungkook's eyes fill with lust when he sees your naked body.

His attention is most attracted to your erect nipples. He looks at you as if he were seeing you for the first time. He raises his hand and touches your nipple, playing with his fingers. You bite your lip. He takes your breast in his hand and squeezes it. He leans down to take your bud into his mouth, but you scream softly in pain. He looks up at your eyes.

"Are they still sensitive?" - Jungkook asks, looking from you to the nipple.

"Yes." - You answer. Jungkook touches your nipple lightly with his tongue and you feel a little pressure. He sucks on your flesh and circles the nipple with his tongue several times. It feels good. You put your hands on his back. Jungkook doesn't ignore your other nipple.

It's getting uncomfortable to stand. So a minute later you're lying on the bed, and Jungkook is on top of you. He is comfortably positioned between your legs. His hard cock is still in his underwear and even his pants. He is pressing on your needy pussy. For some reason, Jungkook is in no hurry to undress and you are not at all satisfied.

"Take off your clothes." - You whisper between kisses. Jungkook smiles when he hears your request.

"If I take off my clothes, I'll fuck you." - He says, pulling his lips away from your skin. You look at him in surprise.

"What do you mean? Isn't that what you were planning to do?" - You wonder. He tilts his head to look at your face from a different angle.

"Well, you said that my parents might hear us. So I decided to listen you." - Jungkook says. Your eyebrows fly up and you smile almost hysterically.

He's lying between your legs right now, with his hard cock pressed in your pussy, and you're sure it hurts, and he's saying he won't have sex with you? That's nonsense. What kind of man is he? He didn't stop when you asked him to, he got you hot and now he says he doesn't plan to fuck you?

"Are you serious?" - You ask hysterically. "Then what are you doing now?"

Jungkook sees your irritation, and it only seems to amuse him more. He raises one eyebrow as if to ask: "What am I doing?" and then leans in closer again, leaving a slow, almost mocking kiss on your jaw.

"I'm just enjoying you, my love." - His voice is husky, dangerous. His warm breath tickles your skin as he trails his lips along your neck, leaving short, damp-hot kisses. His arms are around your waist, his body a constant test of your willpower.

"Enjoying that?" - You can't help but sound sarcastic, even though your lips give you away, trembling with his every touch. "It's more like torture." - Jungkook laughs-quietly, lowly, with that familiar tinge of smugness.

"Torture?" - He lifts up a little higher, meeting your gaze. His eyes sparkle in the semi-darkness of the room. "Is that what you call it?" - His fingers slide down your thighs, causing another flare of trembling.

"What do you call it then?" - You whisper, trying to keep your tone steady, but it doesn't sound convincing at all. Jungkook looks at you longer than necessary, studying you as if he were evaluating something important. And then he smiles-slowly, playfully, dangerously.

"Waiting." - His lips find yours again, and his touch is so sweet that you almost forget how to breathe. Your kiss becomes passionate, and with each new movement, almost insatiable.

"Don't tease me..." - Your voice is barely audible, and it sounds more like a quiet reproach than an accusation. Jungkook smiles.

"You started it first." - He accuses you. You are outraged. You didn't start anything first. You just said that it would be better if you didn't have sex when his parents are in the other room. Sex with Jungkook is always about incredible pleasure and you're used to not holding back. You are afraid that you will forget about caution at some moment.

His hands move higher, his palms run along your ribs, as if exploring every curve of your body. And it's a real torture to be so close to him, to feel his heat, to know that he's right here, but not to get what you want most.

"Tell me, you want it." - His voice is a velvety whisper that sends hundreds of electrical impulses through your body.

"Kook..." - His name sounds like a sin on your lips. You beg him, even though you forbade him not so long ago. He does not move on, does not hurry. He just waits. His eyes darken, he wants it as much as you do, but he stubbornly holds himself in check. His patience — is the last straw of your.

You crush your lips to his, tearing away all doubts, squeeze his shirt in your fingers, and pull him even closer. Jungkook doesn't pull back-he only sinks deeper into you, into your kiss, into everything you're feeling right now.

He doesn't hold back anymore. And neither are you. You move your hips, creating friction, so that he gets excited enough to tease you no more. He moves his hips to meet you and his length is painfully squeezed in his boxers. Jungkook pushes you sharply several times. You feel your orgasm building. You moan into his lips and he can't help but smile.

When you both run out of air, Jungkook breaks the kiss. He rubs against you to help you reach the pleasure you want. Your eyes remain closed and your face expresses absolute pleasure. At such moments, you look like the most beautiful woman in the whole world. Jungkook is happy that he is the only one who has seen that your face.

The friction you created brings you to bliss. You moan as you have an orgasm and Jungkook immediately covers your lips. Now your pleasure is vibrating on his lips. You stop, and Jungkook pulls away from your swollen lips.

"You have to be quiet, baby." - He reminds you. You breathe heavily, stare at his lips a little confused and try to understand what he's saying. The impression of the orgasm makes you detached from reality.

"This is what I told you about." - You complain without any anger. "I don't know how to be quiet with you." - You confess. This confession boosts his ego.

"I love it when you scream from my cock inside you. Damn, I want to fuck you so bad right now. But you have to promise me to be quiet." - Jungkook asks you. His desperate voice makes you throb between your legs. You want him as much as he wants you.

"Only if you shut me up." - You say jokingly. You leave it up to him to decide what he can use to gag you. Jungkook smiles slyly. He leans closer, and that smile makes you tremble in anticipation. His fingers gently touch your chin, forcing you to look him straight in the eye.

"Oh, baby..." - He laughs hoarsely, running his thumb over your lips. "You have no idea what that sounds like to me."

You gulp for air as his gaze darkens, full of promise and desire. His palm moves to your neck, his thumb still lingering near your lips, and you instinctively open them, letting his touch in.

"Do you want, I shut up you like this?" - His voice vibrates, it's dangerous, and it sends pleasant shivers through your body. You nod, sucking on his finger as if testing his reaction.

Jungkook's cock twitches as he imagines those beautiful lips wrapped around his length.

"So we play by my rules?" - He leans down to your neck, leaving a hot, shaking kiss that makes you barely hold back a soft moan. His hand slides steadily lower, leaving hot marks on your skin.

"Yes." - You agreed.

"Okay, my obedient girl..." - He whispers in your ear, and you know that whatever he has in mind will be both torment and bliss.

Jungkook gets up and undresses without breaking contact with your eyes. You raised yourself up on your elbows to better see the picture in front of you. There was something fascinating about watching Jungkook undress.

Jungkook took off his clothes slowly, as if he was deliberately stretching out this moment, enjoying the way you were looking at him. His gaze never leaves yours, watching your every reaction, every movement of your lips, every movement of your body.

Usually, a passion between you makes you move quickly and do everything in a hurry, but today it's something new. Jungkook does everything slowly and leisurely. You find it both annoying and exciting.

You bite your lip, feeling a hot wave spreading inside you. In the semi-darkness, his figure looks even more attractive - clear lines of muscle, smooth skin, tattoos spreading ink across his arm and shoulder.

Jungkook notices how you don't take your eyes off him, and his lips stretch into a satisfied, sly smile.

"Do you like what you see?" - His voice sounds deeper than usual, and it chills you to the bone. Jungkook, in turn, looks at your body and is already planning to fuck you properly right after he takes off your clothes.

You decide to take part in his game. When he takes off his shirt, you smile seductively. You gracefully get up from the bed, leveling with him. Jungkook watches you carefully.

You still didn’t answer his questions. You run your fingertips along his forearm and then slowly slide them down his chest, as if you're checking to see if he's real. Jungkook sighs heavily, his muscles tensing under your touch. Then you lower your hands to his waistband, place your hands on top of his palms, which wanted to undo the button on his pants but didn't because you were distracted him. You gently push his hands away, showing that you will do it yourself.

You look down between your bodies. You undo the button, grab the fabric in your hands and pull it down. You bend down to pull down his pants and see his cock. He is aroused and most likely wants to get rid of the underwear. You straighten up and now want to take off his boxers. But instead, you just slide your hand into his boxers and find the tip that immediately twitches when it feels your fingers.

"Don't play around, love..." - Chunguk whispers, catching your hand and squeezing it lightly, not letting you continue with your plan. "Because I can forget all caution." - You look at him, holding your breath, and then smile slightly.

"Maybe that's what I want?" - You say. "It's fun to tease, now I understand you." - You hum, looking directly into his eyes. Jungkook freezes for a second and then leans over to you.

"Then don't blame me for what's about to happen." - He warns you. He gently places you on the bed and takes off your underwear. The air touches your folds and you feel cool. Between your legs is a mess because you're aroused from yours over-the-top games. Jungkook also takes off his boxers in a matter of seconds.

The mattress bends under his knees as he settles between your legs. You see his thick hard cock bouncing as he moves. Jungkook spreads your legs at his convenience and smears your wetness over the folds. Then he plunges two fingers inside you. He stretches you so that you can take him as painlessly as possible.

Jungkook creates pressure on your walls and this already gives you some pleasure. He doesn't wasted many time for a long time because he wants to enter you already. Jungkook takes his fingers out of you. You don't even have time to realize what he did, because he's already got his cock against your entrance.

He presses and sinks in slowly to make you comfortable. You feel euphoric as his length fills you. Jungkook goes all the way in and moans gutturally. He doesn't move for a while, and then he leans down to you, placing his elbows on either side of your face. He gives one slow, deep thrust and you hold your breath. Which threatens to escape in a loud moan.

Jungkook admires your beautiful face and makes another, similar movement, and surprisingly, it gives rise to a feeling of butterflies in your stomach. His lips cover yours, and you realize that from that moment on, you lost control. But did you really have it?

Jungkook fucks you, covering your mouth with his lips. You moan into his mouth. Your hands are on his back. His cock is so good clings you, and to ease your sensations, you dig your nails into his flesh at first. But the faster and deeper Jungkook moves, the more stimulated you feel. You can't stand it any longer and scratch his back.

Jungkook smiles against your lips, feeling the pain of your scratches. He detached from your lips.

"Is that good?" - He asks. He knows how good you feel. Doesn't his scratched back speak for you? "You take me so well, baby. I love fucking that pussy. I'm happy that she's mine. She's mine and she'll always be." - He whispers as he continues to fuck you. You're going crazy at his words, because you're happy to have a lover like Jungkook.

He gives you so much pleasure that your feelings for him grow more and more every day. Your love is getting stronger. You are perfect for each other in and out of bed. You could only dream of such a guy.

"I love you." - You whisper. These words make Jungkook stop. You open your eyes and see his face so close. His eyes dart between yours, searching for something. You stretch your lips into a smile. "I belong to you completely. I don't need anyone else but you. I love you and I will always love you." - You say a little louder. These words fall from your lips easily and sincerely, because they are the real truth.

"I love you too." - He finally says. He tries to calm his breathing. "You're the girl I've always wanted to have. I'm lucky that my feelings are mutual." - He says. You feel a lump in your throat. You shouldn't cry in the middle of sex. Jungkook suddenly thrusts, continuing what he's started. You gasp in surprise at his actions. "I love you. And I'm ready to prove it to you every day." - He says as he fucks you. You think you're in some kind of paradise, but if isn’t paradise, then what? His declaration of love, his movements inside you, it all makes you so happy.

Jungkook kisses you again. Your lips merge in a gentle kiss full of love. You wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

"Baby, I want you on all fours." - He whispers against your lips. You hoped he would finish with you in a lying position.

"Can we finish the way we started?" - You ask hopefully, not wanting to get up. Jungkook gets up and out of you, and which means that no, it will be as he wants.

"Come on, love, give me your ass here." - He says, helping you to stand up. Jungkook reaches for the pillows to put under your stomach. He puts them in front of you and helps you down. You lie down on top of the two pillows, resting most of your body on your elbows and exposing your ass to him.

It's a gorgeous sight for Jungkook's eyes. He can't help but be tempted to slap you at of your smooth skin. When you feel the blow on your buttocks, it's like you wake up. You want to look up at Jungkook, but you don't have time because he's pressing down on top of you. His hand is on one side of your head, and his lips are on the other, pressed against your shocked face.

"What an ass." - He praises. "By the way, have you heard of anal sex?" - He asks. You freeze. His question has confused you so much that you've forgotten how to speak. You feel your cheeks flush. You've heard of it, of course, but you don't understand what it means. You've also heard that it can cause a number of problems.

"You don't want to do that." - You say in response. "You're just curious, right?" - You ask naively. You feel him touching your buttocks with one hand, the one he's not leaning on.

Jungkook straightens up behind you. He raises your hips, forcing you to lean more on your knees and lift your ass up. Jungkook finds your clit and caresses it with his finger. You moan, but into the bed, so you can hardly be heard.

"I'm not just curious." - He says, firmly. You jerk your head up. Jungkook takes his length in his hands. He puts cock against your buttocks and presses just a little. You raise your head in embarrassment and he stops you, taking you into his arms. His hands are on your stomach.

"Jungkook, I'm not ready to do this." - You say in confusion. You can't turn your head to him because he's holding you close to his body. You hear him laughing softly.

"Honey, calm down. I'm not going to fuck you in the ass. Not tonight." - He says. And his phrase "not tonight" doesn't calm you down at all. His hand goes down to your cunt and caresses you, and you forget what you were just talking about. Jungkook kisses your cheek, showering your face and then your neck with short kisses. He tortures your clit and you moan. "You said you were on your period. Why isn’t there any blood?" - Jungkook asks, noticing that you’re not bleeding like you should during your period. You don’t answer right away. When you’re dealing with the sensations from his finger, you say.

"I was bleeding, but for some reason I’m not. Maybe I should go to the doctor." - You answer. Jungkook hums behind you.

"Yeah, sure. I’ll take you." - He says. But enough talking, Jungkook plans to finish and bring you and himself to orgasm. "Come on, get on your elbows, I'm finally going to fuck you properly."

You listen to him without question. You get down on your elbows, pushing your ass up. Jungkook puts the tip of his cock against your entrance and enters you again with no pain. He starts moving inside you, holding your hips with his hands. You moan and hold back the screams that want to escape your lips. You literally has to bite you until you bleed to keep your moans quiet.

Jungkook behind you is also moaning. Your tight cunt swallowed him so well. Your tight walls give him absolute pleasure. He looks between your bodies and sees your asshole so close to his pubes. He puts his finger between your buttocks with a little pressure. You notice to it, but you can't say or do anything. He fucks you and you seem close.

"I would love to have that sweet ass one day." - He says in your ear then, leaning against your back.

"Kook..." - You say on an exhale. You want to argue that you wouldn't want to, but you can't. Jungkook is hitting your G-spot and you're about to come.

"Will you let me?" - He asks. You won't let him. Because you don't understand why you have to do it. Jungkook cuts into you sharply and deeply. You want to scream. Your moans are getting louder and louder and you might be heard. "Shh, keep quiet, baby. Otherwise, how will you look my parents in the eye in the morning?" - Says Jungkook. You can't do it anymore. Then you should stop. Jungkook seems to read your mind. He straightens up behind you.

His hands grip your hips as they did before and he starts pounding you fast and hard with his cock. If you were alone, you would be screaming from the sensations his cock is giving you, but now you can't do anything but moan into the pillow.

A series of quick strokes and you cum all around his length. Jungkook feels you choking on his cock and in just a few thrusts he comes right after you. He fills you with cum and you can't care about it because you just don't have the strength.

Jungkook stops jerking inside you and pulls out. You fall exhausted on the bed and breathe heavily. Jungkook lies down next to you. You are hot, both of you are sweating. Jungkook looks at you, and you lie there catching your breath with your eyes closed.

"Are you alive, love?" - He asks with a smile. You smile weakly. You have no more strength left for anything.

"Half." - You joke. Jungkook leans over to you.

"Have I completely exhausted you?" - He asks, caring, though you can feel him smiling. You open your eyes and see your beloved man above you. He touches your lips with his own and lets go after a moment.

"It was worth it." - You praise the sex with Jungkook. You couldn't have refused him after the first kiss. Even though you were tired and only had the energy to get to bed and fall asleep. But now you're definitely without the slightest bit of energy.

"Do you want me to carrying you to the bathroom?" - He offers. His offer sounds so tempting. But what if Jungkook's parents are still awake and notice him carrying you to the bathroom? What will they think? You shake your head in denial.

"No. I'll go by myself, but after you. I need to catch my breath." - You say. Jungkook agrees and goes to the bathroom first, while you put on Jungkook's T-shirt and straighten the bed. Fortunately, you were almost careful. Only a little bit of Jungkook's cum, which probably spilled out of you when you sat up straight. You wiped it off with a damp napkin that was in the room and let the place dry.

Jungkook took a quick shower. You also took a bath for the second time that evening. It took you less than 10 minutes and luckily you didn't run into either Jungkook's mom or his dad.

You walked into the room and noticed that Jungkook was already lying on the bed. He was running his fingers over the sensor, obviously typing a message to someone. You crawled under the covers. The place where you cleaned was still damp. You moved over to Jungkook, hugging him. As soon as he felt you move in, he blocked his phone and pulled you closer to him. You leaned your cheek against his chest and sighed, enjoying his warmth.

"Are you okay, baby?" - Jungkook asks.

"Fine, thanks to you." - You answered. Jungkook kissed your temple. There was a silence between you and him. You listened to his steady breathing and heartbeat. You noticed that his heartbeat sounded like asmr to you. Jungkook ran his fingertips over your back, as if unconsciously drawing some patterns. The warmth of his palms soothed you.

You closed your eyes, trying not to think about anything, just to enjoy this moment, his closeness. But through your half-asleep state, you suddenly felt Jungkook tense up slightly.

Someone had sent him a text message, because the phone on the nightstand vibrated. He reached for the phone and you looked at the screen unnoticed by him. Who could be texting him at this hour?

Jungkook unlocked the phone and you saw who it was.

00.13 AM. Sunday | Jimin: You'll be contacted by Ingwon tomorrow. I don't know when exactly, but it's definitely tomorrow. You have to make an appointment. He wants to discuss the details of the black dust delivery.

Jungkook writes a short reply, "I'm waiting" and locks the phone. He puts it on the nightstand with the screen facing down. You pretend to be asleep, but you remember that he promised to tell you why he was upset when he got home from work early today. That's what you had a little argument about.

"Jungkook?" - You call out to him quietly. He didn't answer right away, just held you even tighter.

"I'm here, my love." - He says in a soft mumble. His voice sounds deeper and hoarser, as if it were not his own. You pulled away a little to look at him. His eyes were closed, but you could tell by the clenched jawline that he was awake.

"What are you thinking about?" - You ask from a distance. He opens his eyes and moves his head back a little in a groan and looks at you. He holds his gaze on you for a moment and then sighs, as if he's weighing what to say.

"About a lot to do." - His fingers lightly touched your hair. "A new task has come up. It's a bit of a tense for me." - He finally admits. You feel both relieved that he's opening up to you more and anxious because you know what kind of work Jungkook is into.

If he says that the case is "tense him", then it's something serious and definitely dangerous. You inhale softly, remembering the message from Jimin. Was it something to do with the "black dust"? What is it, exactly? Some kind of weapon? Or drugs?

"Is it... something dangerous?" - You asked, although you already knew the answer in your heart. Jungkook again delayed his answer, and then only lightly touched your forehead with his lips.

"It's just business. You don't have to worry." - He says, and you feel his lips moving on your forehead.

"Every time you tell me not to worry, something bad happens." - You complain without anger in your voice.

"Really?" - He asks with a bit of irony.

"Yes. I still know it's something dangerous." - You whisper, looking into his face. He held his gaze on you, and then ran his fingers lightly over your chin.

"And what are you going to do about it?" - He ask you with the same irony. You press your lips together indignantly. He think this is supposed to made it a joke? Sighing, you decide not to argue with him. You cling to him tighter, inhaling his familiar scent.

"If I can do anything about it?" - You answer the question with a question. There's silence between you again, but this time it's heavy. "I just want you to be safe." - You say desperately. Jungkook smiled, just a small smile, at the corner of his lips, but there was no real peace in his eyes.

"I just want you not to worry about things you can't control, baby." - His voice was warm, but he sounded tired.

"Jungkook." - You called to him softly but insistently. "Does this have anything to do with what upset you today?" - You finally ask him directly. You raise your eyes to look at him. He doesn't answer right away. His gaze lingered on you, dark, attentive. Then he unclenched his fingers, which were holding a few strands of your hair, and nodded slowly, as if hesitating.

"Yes." - He confessed to you. Your heart sped up.

"So what happened?" - You ask, and you're really afraid to hear what might have upset him. But you don't think he will tell you the whole truth. Jungkook took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, looking away.

"Namjoon wants me to take on a serious case. But something about it is... not right..." - He paused, as if searching for words. "I mean, the target and the people who will be working on this case are too murky. I suspect why Namjoon wants me to be the one to do it. Jimin says he wanted me to do it right away." - Jungkook thinks out loud. You swallow the lump in your throat.

"And why does he want you to do it?" - You ask cautiously.

"He wants to give me even more responsibility." - He replies. "But he promised me that if I do everything perfectly, he'll cut my debt in half."

"He's offering to cut your debt in half? Why not the whole debt?" - You ask, slightly protesting. Jungkook thinks about it. Yes, this case is worthy of his full debt relief. Why did he only agree to write off half of it?

"Maybe I was really screwed." - Jungkook hummed. He rolled over onto his back, staring at the ceiling. His hand was still on your back, warm, strong, but you could feel the tension in his every muscle. You gently touched his cheek, making him look at you again.

"I think you should try to bargain with him for your all freedom. If you want to leave the world of the mafia, that is. Especially if, as you say, he wants to give you more responsibility, that means he's not going to let you go at all." - You pause, staring at his face. "But whatever it is..." - Your voice was quiet, but confident. "Be careful."

Jungkook stared at you and then, without a word, gently pulled you closer for the hundredth kiss of the night. Your lips are his panacea. He pressed you against him, and this kiss was different-slow, tender, and full of emotions that could not be expressed in words. You felt his arms hugging you tighter, but with some special care.

"Let's go to sleep." - He suggests. You smile and make yourself comfortable next to your lover. You turn your back and Jungkook hugs you from behind. You try to fall asleep.

After a while, Jungkook hears your steady breathing and realizes that you have fallen asleep. His thoughts are full. He's trying to figure out what the new task Namjoon has given him will mean for him. His mind is replaying the events that happened before you left for your parents' house.

Jungkook stood in the semi-darkness of the garage, listening to every word through his phone, ignoring the extra fuss around him. He had a package of documents in his hands, and he had just finished negotiating with one of the arms suppliers, the deal were smoothly. The phone suddenly vibrated, and Jungkook picked it up without hesitation to see a call from Jimin.

"Jungkook-ah, Namjoon wants to see us all. You need to come to Indigo right now. Put aside everything you're doing." - He says. Jungkook can hear the tension in his voice. It's been a long time since Namjoon has called everyone together. It must be something very important.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes. I've just finished my business." - Jungkook replies.

"Great. We'll all be there. At the first VIP as usual." - Jimin informs him.

"Is something wrong?" - Jungkook tries to find out something.

"This isn't a phone call." - Jimin says. Jungkook exhales sharply.

"I'm on my way to the club." - He says, and when he hears Jimin's "waiting," he hangs up. He tells his assistant that there's no work for today, so he letting him go. Jungkook did not like such meetings, he felt that this time something serious was going to happen.

He went back to the car, starting the engine loudly, not paying attention to the city lights outside the window. He was supposed to be on his way to pick you up and go to parents' house. He texts you that he will be delayed indefinitely because he has some urgent business and will come to pick you up as soon as he is free.

Club “Indigo” was located on the outskirts of Seoul, where the rustling noise of the city met the silence that enveloped the place. The entrance was decorated in a modern style, mixing techno and classics, and inside it was hard to distinguish where baroque ended and modern began.

The ceiling was decorated with abstract paintings that resembled Cubist works - colored fragments were folded into strange shapes that began to tell their own story when the angle of view changed. It was a special club where art and business were intertwined. Everything here was reminiscent of Namjoon himself, his taste and preferences.

Jungkook entered and walked straight to the VIP room, feeling like every glance that fell on him was filled with a certain attention. Everyone was sitting in the room: Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, Jin, and Yoongi. Everyone in this circle knew their role and business, and each of them had a part of what the “Run Noir” clan lives for. But Namjoon, as always, was in the center stage.

Namjoon sitting down a wide leather chair, a glass of whiskey in his hand. A painting with an abstract expressionist pattern hung on the wall behind him. He looked up as Jungkook entered.

"Great, now we're all here. Come in, Jungkook-ah, have a seat." - He invited Jungkook with a smile on his lips.

"Good evening." - He greeted everyone present. Jungkook bowed his head and bowed in respect. He sat down in an empty seat next to Jimin, who smiled cautiously and pushed glass with alcohol to him closer. Jungkook just nodded, but he wasn't going to drink. He still had to drive.

Namjoon didn't delay and got right down to business. It was obvious that while they were waiting for Jungkook, they had already discussed some of their business.

"So, why did I bring you all here?" - Namjoon began. All eyes were on the clan leader and he was pleased with the attention. "I have always strived to be the best at whatever I do. And I was doing it well. Of course, I would not be where I am without you. But you all know me well, I never rest on my laurels and always strive to push the boundaries. The status of my clan today allows me to enter a new level of the international market. I want to sell Uranium." - Finally, he finish announcement. Namjoon meet silence and attentive stares. Everyone is silent, not wanting to speak their minds.

Jungkook cautiously glances around to see what everyone is thinking. Jimin and Hoseok are the ones who can't hide their surprise, and their faces show it very eloquently. Yoongi, the shadowy leader of the clan, looks bored as usual, he probably already knew his partner's plans. Jin and Taehyung are calm but tense.

"Uranium? But why do we need it? You do realize how much attention it can attract, right?" - Jin was the first to break the silence. Namjoon nodded, obviously expecting this question.

"I know. But this is exactly what can help us strengthen our position. I want to go far beyond Korea. Uranium is a good source of power and money. I want to use this moment to get rid of any competition with the “Black Pearl”" - Namjoon replies. He takes a sip of alcohol and feels it burning in his throat.

"How exactly do you want to work with Uranium?" - Jungkook asks. Everyone turns their attention to him. But Jungkook only looks at his leader.

"There are three classifications of uranium, but we will only work with two. We will sell depleted uranium through the military, which is used in armor-piercing shells,for example, for tanks, and may be of interest to arms smugglers, and we will sell energy-grade uranium for nuclear power plants." - Namjoon explains. Jungkook raises his eyebrows slightly as he considers Namjoon's words. Where did he get this opportunity? After all, working with the military and nuclear power plants is a very high level. Someone has to cover this case well? Or does he want to pull off this plan himself?

"And how will it all happen? How do we get around the government, or will they cooperate with us directly?" - Jimin asked. Namjoon looked carefully at Jimin, who had asked an important question, and clutched his glass in his hands, thinking about his answer for a while.

"No, the government will not cooperate with us." - He answered, and everyone realized that the plan could not be that simple. "I want Jungkook and Hobby to do the first work." - He looked at them in turn. "You will have to organize the transportation itself. But I already have a plan for how it should go. We need to make sure that the police and the Ministry of Defense don't even know about the deliveries. And believe me, it will not be easy. Once the authorities find out, they won't be able to leave us alone."

Jungkook pondered Namjoon's words, his gaze becoming even more intense. He and Hosok were going to take on this project, and that meant taking a huge risk. The task was not an easy one: no mistakes could be made.

"You mean we'll have to use front companies?" - Taehyung asked, looking at Namjoon.

"Yes." - Namjoon nodded. "We will set up several front companies through which we will work with the military and nuclear power plants. This will give us cover for our operations. It's also important that we involve people with the right connections, people who can solve any issues with customs or other agencies."

Yoongi, who had been sitting quietly, leaned back and spoke with an expression of extreme indifference, but his words sounded sharp.

"We'll need to have someone in place to coordinate everything. Someone we can trust to make sure there are no unexpected situations." - He said.

"I've already thought of that." - Namjoon chimed in. "I've already found the right people. But the thing is, it's going to be very confusing, and everyone has to work according to their own plan without knowing the details of what the other is doing."

Hoseok, who had been sitting quietly until now, looked up and spoke, a little nervously.

"We'll have to hide a lot, including the uranium shipments themselves. How are we going to transport it? I mean, are there any safe ways?" - He asked. But before Namjoon could answer, Jungkook gently raised his hand to indicate that he wanted to add his own opinion.

"It will be possible to use underground routes, logistics corridors that are not controlled by the authorities. But this also requires careful organization. And we need to take into account that the transport can be checked. Perhaps we should think about some more unique delivery methods?" - He suggested. Namjoon smiled when he heard Jungkook's ideas. He knew it would be difficult, but he trusted each of them.

"Yeah, it's all very complicated..." - He replied. "But you have experience. I trust all of you, and I know you can handle it. Now we have to act quickly. We cannot afford to be late. Uranium will give us great power, but if we make a mistake, it could lead to disaster."

Everyone understood that the clan's activities were reaching a new level, and if everything worked, they would have unprecedented influence. When all the details were discussed and everyone moved on to more casual conversations, Jungkook was about to leave. He stood up from the couch, drawing attention to himself.

"Can I go now? I still have things to do." - Jungkook asks Namjoon for permission. The latter nods his head kindly. But then he gets up from his chair and walks towards Jungkook.

"Let me walk you out." - He offers. Namjoon slips his arm around Jungkook's shoulder as walks over. The members realizes that Namjoon is having a personal conversation with the youngest.

They leave the VIP room and head to the parking lot. Namjoon walks in a relaxed manner, unlike Jungkook.

"You handled the medical device so well the recently, and proved to me your loyalty and that you know how to do your job well. That's why I want you to keep an eye on things when we start working with Uranium." - Namjoon says seriously, and stop. Jungkook stops next to him. "I promise I'll forgive half of the debt if you set up all the uranium delivery work. And then you will only have to work for me for two years. You know how much I want you to stay, but I also want it to be your initiative. I see great potential in you and you are the best at what you do. I need people like you. I really trust you, kid."

Jungkook was surprised to hear about the debt. Only two years and he would be free? It sounded almost unreal, like a chance he hadn't expected. He fell silent and was lost in thought for a few seconds.

"Two years..." - He repeated. "And you're really going to let me go?"

"Yes." - Namjoon answered decisively. In fact, he was hoping that this case would help to keep him in business for a long time. Namjoon watched Jungkook carefully, waiting for a reaction. He collected his thoughts and continued quietly without looking up.

"I appreciate your trust, Namjoon. And I'm very grateful that you see the potential in me. But I'm not looking for any big changes or a special place in the clan. I just want to be a performer. I don't want anything more than that." - Jungkook says. Namjoon raised his eyebrows a little, feeling that Jungkook wasn't quite expressing everything he really wanted to say. But Jungkook continued regardless. "So I agree to monitor the uranium supply process, but you must also keep your word. Two years and I am no longer your subordinate." - Jungkook added with some determination in his voice.

Namjoon nods his head, smiling. Time will tell where all of you will be in two years, and he really hoped it would be the pinnacle of success.

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[harrywavycurly]

Absolutely loving killer Harry! I love how protective of us he is and how just caring and in love he is with us. Though has there ever been a time where he was the one where he desperately needed someone or us for comfort? Has he ever been that vulnerable with us?

Hiii lovey!! So I think 100000% Harry has had moments of insecurity and thinks he’s not enough for you and that’s sort of why he needs you to comfort him a bit! So I hope you enjoy this!!💖

Find all things Loving a Killer here✨

CW: Harry is a killer in this series but it’s only mentioned briefly and no details are given in this update about what he’s done.

Tag List: @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia

Summary: Harry has a bad day and just needs you to comfort him a bit✨

It’s rare that Harry lets anyone see him at his lowest when the weight of all the horrible things he’s done rests on his shoulders and he feels as if he doesn’t deserve the happiness he’s found in life, the happiness he has all because of you. You’re the one person who has seen Harry in this state, he doesn’t bother putting up a wall with you because you know him too well and while he does keep things from you, such as what he really does for a living, he is actually very forthcoming with his feelings with you because most of the time it’s just him telling you how much he loves you and how you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. But something he’s learned in his years of being with you and especially in the years he’s been married to you is that it’s just as important for him to share how he’s feeling in the not so great moments as well as the happy ones, it’s what helps you understand him a bit more and get to see his more vulnerable side that he doesn’t share with anyone else.

That’s why having Harry’s head resting in your lap while you’re sat at the edge of the bed with him on his knees between your legs isn’t that shocking, you could tell he was feeling a little down the moment he got home from work a few hours earlier. You run a hand through his hair as he lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, the feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp making him relax the tiniest bit. He hasn’t said anything to you minus that he loves you but that was as he was getting ready for bed, he’s been silence since then even when he dropped to his knees in front of you while you were putting your lotion on and rested his head in your lap and securely wrapped himself around you and you don’t mind because you know he will talk when he’s ready.

“Can I ask you something?” You look down at him as he mumbles his question into the fabric of your pajama pants.

“You can ask me anything you want.” You tell him as your free hand rests on the top of his shoulder so you can give it a small squeeze.

“Do you think you’ll always love me?” He knows he shouldn’t be asking you this while you have no clue about the horrible things he does and has done in the time you’ve known him but he just needs some reassurance in this very moment so he doesn’t really care how unfair he’s being.

“I know I’ll always love you.” You answer with a smile as you continue running your fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing you could do that would ever make me stop loving you.” Your soft and gentle tone lets him know you mean every word and Harry wants to smile but he can’t because of the guilt he feels knowing that he’s already done plenty of things that would make all the love you have for him fade away and turn into disgust and anger.

“I don’t deserve you.” He says with a sigh as his arms around your middle tighten almost as if he’s afraid that if his hold on you loosens even just the tiniest bit you’ll slip away from him. You feel the corners of your mouth drop at his words, hating that whatever thoughts he’s got swirling around in his mind are making him feel like he’s not good enough. You bring your hand up and place it on his cheek that’s not pressed against your thighs, you softly run your thumb over his cheekbone as your other hand plays with the hair at the back of his neck.

“Well I know you don’t hear this a lot but you’re wrong.” You watch as your words make Harry’s mouth twitch like he’s fighting off a smile. “You deserve me because I deserve you.” You swallow the small lump that’s forming in your throat as you look over at your nightstand that has a photo of you and Harry from your wedding day sitting in a pretty frame next to your lamp.

“No one can love me the way you do. No one can make me feel like I’m the most important person in the whole world the way you do. No one can protect me the way you do. So you saying you don’t deserve me is like you’re trying to tell me I don’t deserve the kind of happiness that I only get when I’m with you.” Harry’s eyes open as soon as he hears you sniffle and you don’t even have time to wipe away the few tears that have escaped before he’s sitting up making your hands fall into your lap while his come up to gently cup the sides of your face, his thumbs softly wiping away the tears for you.

“You deserve all the happiness in the world.” He tells you with as much softness he can muster as he feels his heart begin to crack at the sight of you getting upset because you just want him to know how loved he makes you feel. While he’s glad he makes you feel this way he also hates that a part of him knows the reason he goes so overboard with his love and affection for you is because he thinks maybe if he treats you the best he possibly can you won’t want to leave the moment you find out the monster he really is.

“And I get that when I’m with you.” Harry hates knowing your happiness is tied up in being with him because he knows there’s a small possibility that somewhere down the line he won’t be able to be around anymore, either because a job goes wrong or someone stumbles upon his preferred burial site that holds more than a few skeletons of his. “Is there something wrong that we need to work on? Are you not-”

“No baby there’s nothing wrong.” He says quickly stopping you from asking any other questions because he can’t stand the thought of you thinking you have anything to do with his mood this evening. “I just sometimes think this-this life we’ve made with each other is almost too good to be true and-and I get in my head about how one day you’re going to realize how fucked up I am and you’ll run for the hills.” His thumbs are still softly rubbing over your cheeks as he finally lets you in on the types of things that have been rolling around in his mind lately.

“I already know how fucked up you are Harry.” His eyes stare into yours as you bring your hands up and rest them on top of his. “You wake up before the sun rises to work out. You also prefer cold showers unless I’m joining you and force you to take a hot one. You are so organized I don’t even know where half our stuff even is. And you eat beans on toast. You’re an actual freak.” You explain with a small sniffle while you wrap your hands around his wrists, Harry appreciates your attempt at trying to change the mood of the conversation because he doesn’t know how much longer he can watch tears slip down your face.

“But you love me right?” He asks as he leans in to place a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll never love anyone the way I love you so don’t think even for a minute that I’ll ever leave you okay?” Harry just nods as you give his wrists a squeeze and that’s when you notice his eyes have gotten a little misty. “I promise I’m not going anywhere.” You reassure him as you move your hands from his wrist and up to his face while his hands drop to your shoulders.

“Good.” You smile as you feel him lean into your touch. “You mean everything to me you know that right?” You give him a small nod as you hear the emotion in his voice. “I love you.” He says softly as you lean in and rest your forehead against his as a few stray tears roll down his face. “I’m sor-” Harry’s apology is cut off by the feeling of your lips on his in a sweet kiss.

“I love you too.” You mumble against his lips as his hands slip into your hair keeping your face close to his. “You don’t have to apologize to me. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Harry closes his eyes for a moment as you take your thumbs and wipe away the last of his tears while he take a few seconds to let your words sink in, ignoring the ever present guilt that wants to work its way up his chest and into his throat so he can come clean and just tell you everything he’s done wrong that would make you change your mind and demand an apology and probably a divorce from him.

But Harry decides that while yes he does unspeakable things and hurts people for a living, there’s a reason he walked into the cafe you worked at all those years ago and maybe it was because the universe or whatever it may be knew you were exactly what he needed in his life. He felt lost before he met you, just going through the motions of life with no real purpose until you came along and gave him one. That’s why he will always drop whatever he’s doing if you need him because your happiness is his main priority and it’s the same reason he’d leave and make sure you never saw him again if you ever do decide to be done with him.

He hasn’t ever loved anyone as much as he loves you and as he leans in and places a kiss to your lips he knows you love him just as much when he feels you pull him closer when you think he’s about to pull away, not wanting him to get too far but you have nothing to worry about because Harry isn’t going anywhere. The two of you are it for each other and he feels a sense of relief wash over him as that realization hits him, momentarily putting him at ease.

“You really think I’m a freak because of the beans on toast thing?” He teases once you actually allow him to pull away and you roll your eyes as he places little kisses to the tip of your nose and then both cheeks.

“Yes.” He smiles as you run a hand through his hair. “But you’re my freak.”

“Oh really? And here I was thinking you were my little freak.” He chuckles at the way your cheeks get pink as he leans down and gives you a quick peck making you smile when he pulls away. It’s a smile that makes Harry’s heart want to burst because it’s the smile you give him when he can tell you’re truly happy and that’s all Harry wants, he just wants to be able to make you smile like that for as long as he can.

[mightyneinrewatch]

FAQ

Someone pointed out to me that asks were turned off, oops... that has been fixed now. Feel free to ask me anything! If I don't respond right away, forgive me, I have a day job and must pay bills, but I'll at least check in once a week when I'm rewatching the episodes myself.

Just to answer a few questions I've gotten so far:

There is no need or obligation to tag spoilers. (With the sheer number of people here who will be repeat watchers, it will be impossible to avoid spoilers, and I don't want anyone policing anyone on what tags they use - I want everyone to have fun!)

If you WISH to tag spoilers as a courtesy to new watchers, I would suggest using #nein again spoilers just so we all know it's specifically spoilers for the rewatch. (And if you are a first time watcher, WELCOME! I hope you enjoy the ride! Please tell us your thoughts as we go!)

PLEASE keep negativity to a minimum, meaning if you dislike a particular ship or canon event or whatever, I would only ask that you keep it out of the #nein again tag? That tag is for sharing LOVE of this campaign, so similarly I would ask not to see too many comparisons to other campaigns. (I have no intent to actually police any of this or call anyone out, and this is also NOT a request for ANYONE ELSE to police it either. I can and will use the block button.)

I am currently queuing up posts with the episode links, which will go out one episode at a time every Sunday at 8:00 am Mountain Time for the US (which I believe is 10:00 am Eastern Time for the US, and that's as far as my knowledge of time zones go) This is not a "live watch" per se. Think of it more like a book club. We all have a whole week to watch the episode and chat about it. Set your own schedule, and of course PLEASE don't feel bad if you fall behind! If you have a bad week, it's COMPLETELY okay to just skip the episode for that week and catch the next one. Or take a break for a few months! Or if you get REALLY into it, you can watch ahead at your leisure. No one is grading you on how well you manage to keep up.

On a very cool note, I checked the follower count AND WE ARE SOMEHOW ALREADY AT OVER 200 FOLLOWERS??? MY GOD, THAT IS INCREDIBLE! Very happy to join you all on this journey!

Special thanks to @sethdomade for mentioning the idea of a "dracula daily" version of a Mighty Nein rewatch! (That I'm now realizing I basically hijacked the idea and didn't even ask them at all if that was okay, I AM SO SORRY, I guess I'm asking forgiveness instead of permission??)

Drop any other questions in the ask box, and I WILL SEE YOU ALL TOMORROW FOR EPISODE ONE!

[solarecliipse]

secret valentine !

he’s oh so sweet with his words, he writes each word like it’s full of love, his love, and he gets a box of your favorite chocolate (or candies), tying them both together with red ribbon, he even makes it to school like a half-hour early to not get caught, leaving the confession in your locker as he smiles to himself, he spends the rest of the morning acting all chill, but attentive to your voice, just wanting to hear how you react to his valentine’s gift. at the end of the day, he’s nervously tapping on his foot underneath the school gates, and when he sees you come, he nervously smiles at you, hopefully you ain’t thinking of turning him down

kōshi sugawara, shinsuke kita, oikawa toru, tadashi yamaguchi, eita semi, osamu miya, keiji akaashi, aran ojiro

his friends are EXHAUSTED by his constant “of course i’ll confess, i just need to find the perfect moment” so when he says he doesn’t want to do it on valentines since “it’s so cliché” excusing his cowardice, they take matters into their own hands, and that’s why you find a bottle of your favorite juice on your bench as you arrive to your classroom, then a silly supermarket card along the lines of “i chews you” with a dog chewing a red heart, and finally a single red rose that’s got a tag with his name as the sender, god knows he was shocked when you approached him with everything in your hands

atsumu miya, lev haiba, daichi sawamura, hanamaki takahiro, tetsuro kuroo, hajime iwaizumi

he fucked up. because how could he be so stupid to not write his name on the letter? not even give you a place to properly confess? just a totally anonymous letter that anyone could’ve wrote, and of course some jackass had to take the credit, he watches as this guy goes over to you saying “oh i see you liked my letter” making you blush, but he doesn’t catch the way your eyes drift to him. he spends the rest of the day avoiding you completely, too embarrassed and scared to confront you about it, that’s until he sees the same guy flirting with some other girl, and goes running to find you, finally confessing that the letter was from him, to which you just smile softly “yeah, i figured” of course you knew his handwriting that well

kotaro bokuto, tsutomu goshiki, morisuke yaku, akinori konoha, yu nishinoya, tobio kageyama, azumane asahi

now he definitely wasn’t planning on confessing at all, wasn’t even that aware of his feelings until he gets a confession from another girl, he tells her he’s sorry, but he can’t return her feelings, she asks why with tears starting to form in her eyes, and it just comes out naturally off his lips “i already like someone else” his friends turn to him with inquisitive looks, and when the girl goes away they tease him about “giving such a poor excuse” he realizes it wasn’t an excuse, and just stands up, going directly to were you are, because he has to know right now if you could ever return his feelings

shoyo hinata, rintaro suna, kei tsukishima, kenma kozume, kiyoomi sakusa, issei matsukawa

n/a: i’m back!!! sorry for ghosting yall, anyways i love february and valentines soo, here’s some secret confession general headcanons, hope u like it!!!

[kkskdeaddove]

KKSKDD2025 Wrap-Up (Complete!)

HELLO KAKASAKU DARK FIC LOVERS!

So sorry for the previous post which was incomplete (more coffee was needed this morning). THIS post contains the titles and summaries for all 27 fics that were published for this year's KakaSaku Dead Dove Week 2025. The fics can all be found in this year's AO3 collection.

Please read the tags before checking out the full works. If something is going to make you uncomfortable, don't read it. You are responsible for curating your own fanfiction experience.

Thank you to everyone who participated, encouraged, commented, read, kudosed, and cheered on our amazing creators! Looking forward to future kksk dd events 🖤 Without further ado...

Compatibility level 99.6% by BelleDayNight

Post-war birthrates in Konoha are low. The Fire Daimyo issues an order to boost those numbers. Sakura is part of the science team to create an algorithm to find the most compatible partners amongst the shinobi of Konoha. Soon to be Rokudaime, Kakashi feels obligated to participate in the Daimyo's pairing lottery. He shouldn't ask his people to do something he's not willing to do himself. Kakashi and Sakura are partnered with the highest compatibility score -- they aren't complaining!

Night Watch by xylazine

Kakashi has a suggestion to make time pass more quickly during a long stretch of night watches. Sakura agrees, not quite knowing what she's agreeing to.

Sweet Dreams by Anonymous

He was supposed to be on lookout, watching for any wayward enemies who were unfortunate enough to stumble upon them while they were this far away from civilization. But the sounds of her soft snores drew his attention more than the dark and quiet treeline. 

Tell No Tales by twofortea

The last thing Sakura remembers is stopping by Hokage Tower, and now…

Kakashi's Kunoichi: A Lesson in Piss by rosebrided

She sat up a little straighter. A special lesson? Part of her beamed at the idea of having his sole attention without the others, for once. No Naruto, no Sasuke. Just her and Kakashi-sensei. But whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Not after he caught her red-handed. Kakashi took half a step closer, forcing Sakura to scoot backwards—and collide with a tree. With her back against the trunk and the rough bark digging into her palms, she was trapped. Why was she afraid? She had no reason to be afraid of him. This was only Kakashi-sensei. Team Seven's leader. She trusted him. Or: Sakura tries to catch a glimpse of Sasuke peeing and Kakashi catches her.

Ramen Glory Hole by xylazine

Naruto shows Sakura an exclusive new ramen spot. A confusion of doors leads to something else entirely.

Just Another Hole in the Wall by Anonymous

As always, most of Sakura’s adventures in life began with a push (or a dare, or a threat) from Ino. Traveling to other countries just to explore, rather than run herself into the ground with her work at the hospital? An Ino-enforced idea. Eating spicy food until she built up to the tolerance of a normal person? She and Ino had suffered runny noses and stinging lips together for the duration of a month. Finding herself stuffed halfway through a hole in the wall, waiting on a stranger to pull her legs apart and show her a good time? Sakura didn’t even want to think about the night of drunken admissions and dares that led her to this situation.

The wolf and the lamb by xylazine

Sakura receives a mysterious invitation to the Midnight Masquerade. What surprises await her there?

Dirty Little Secret by MikaOfTheLeaf

Sakura has developed a crush on her Sensei and writes all about her secret desires in a diary. Kakashi has always liked reading, and he's itching to get his hands on that little book she's always toting around.

The Hound's Desire by XXYandereChanXX

Kakashi’s job should have been simple—kill the man who had stolen from Mayor Minato and leave a message for anyone else who thought it was a good idea to cross his boss. A quick, clean job, something that was child’s play for him. But then he met Sakura, the niece of Keitaro Haruno. Kakashi, a seasoned hound for Konoha, had never wanted anything as much as he wanted her. The moment their paths crossed, everything shifted. Her innocence, her strength—it was intoxicating in a way he couldn't quite explain, a draw he couldn’t resist. In all his years of ruthless work, he had never been so consumed by desire, so captivated by someone. Sakura, sweet and unaware, had unknowingly stepped right into his trap. She would never see it coming. Kakashi had carefully constructed every move, every word, every detail—he would have her, and she wouldn’t even realize the danger she was in until it was far too late.

polarization by xylazine 

In need of cash, Sakura signs up for a "sleeping beauty" service. Little does she know the dark path this will lead her down.

In Such Bitter Desire by twofortea

Kakashi wasn’t expecting to go into a sudden rut while out on a mission. Luckily, the ninken have a plan.

disquiet by xylazine

Kakashi's worst nightmare unfolds when he and Sakura are captured by rogue missing-nin.

At Least You’re Alive (You Might as Well Be Useful For Once) by Fusionblitz28

Her hand weaves through his hair until she finds a patch to hold onto and pulls his head backwards towards her face, “You shouldn’t fight so much, it won’t do you any good,” she whispers. “You’re mine now, Sensei. Now Sit.” She uses her chakra to push him down and he tumbles forward, a heap at her feet. Kakashi awaits his death sentence. Instead he becomes a pet under new ownership. He isn't Konoha's bitch anymore. He's Sakura's.

Prisoner of Your Love by arichii98, Koneko_taichou

After being spurned by her long-time love interest, Sakura is through waiting around for him to realize they belong together. They're going to create a life together and be happy. Whether he agrees willingly or not.

fervent by xylazine

An induced rut claws beneath Kakashi's skin and relief comes in an unexpected form.

impartment by xylazine

Duty always comes first. Until Sakura makes a request he's unable to resist.

Kakashi's Lying Kunochi by XXYandereChanXX

Sakura lied all the time—it came as easily as breathing. But she never lied to her teacher...until she did. She shouldn't have done that.

Ravenous by xylazine

Kakashi realizes he views Sakura as more than just a teammate and friend. Only, instead of his words, he takes matters into his own hands. In pretty much the worst way possible.

young and beautiful by twofortea

The next phase of Sakura's training starts now.

revolting by xylazine 

Kakashi dreams about teaching the solider formerly known as Haru a lesson she won't forget.

We've Only Just Begun by MikaOfTheLeaf

After losing everything, Sakura finally has a chance to finally start rebuilding her life when she receives her first mission orders since before the end of the war. It's been months since Sasuke disappeared in the middle of the night again, leaving her and the village behind for a second time. She hasn't seen Kakashi in a year, and she has no idea when she walks back into his life that he's been struggling with his feelings for her ever since he saved her life under the Samurai Bridge years ago. Will she be able to trust herself enough to let him in, or will the damage done by her first heartbreak be too much to overcome?

Fangs Of Passion by XXYandereChanXX

The Hatake clan is said to take only one mate, but what few know is that they recognize them the moment they meet. Kakashi tried to deny it, but when a jutsu caused his kekkei genkai to surge uncontrollably, his instincts took over. There was no escaping the truth anymore—he had to accept it. Hopefully, Sakura could handle the undeniable truth—that she was his.

as desperation takes hold by twofortea

Everything falls apart in seconds.

Sweet Girl by LolaLot

“Kakashi-sensei?” Sakura looked up at him with those same eyes she had when she was twelve and his student. Hungry for guidance, a little scared, but still so sharp. “How far am I supposed to go to help others? How far is too far?” Staring down at her, Kakashi didn’t have an answer. Being a war hero hadn’t saved him, and it wouldn’t save Sakura either. For them, there were no heroes.

Her Soul For Mine by MikaOfTheLeaf

“Promise me,” Tsunade said. “Promise me you won’t back out, that you won’t let him break her.” Kakashi's rage flared and he shot her a venomous look, speaking before he could stop himself. “It’s better for me to break her instead?” He hissed, unable to restrain his anger at the situation any longer. Tsunade’s eyes softened, but she couldn’t look him in the face as she quietly said, “You won’t,” she sounded so sure of herself, as though she had absolute faith in him. It made him sick. She continued, “You’ll leave her with her soul, Kakashi. Sakura will be able to heal, she’ll find a way to move past this. Do you think she’d fare so well with him?”

groom by doveonlifesupport 

Groom: 1. (Noun) A man just married or about to be married 2. (Verb) To prepare someone for an objective or purpose Kakashi is given a second chance, to fix what Uchiha Madara broke. But avoiding the Fourth War isn't the only thing he's determined to change.

[lovisu]

Omg it’s finally my birthday month !! I’m very excited to present my first ever editing event ^_^ further details are below the cut !

𐙚 : Event Info !!

This event will start on February 5th and end February 9th (my birthday!) I'm posting it early so that people have a few days to prepare ^^

Make sure to @ me and use the tag #sumisbday so that I can see it!! If you think I missed it please send in an ask or @ me again :)

ANY and all sort of edits are accepted !! Doesn't matter if it's super simple or super complex, just have fun with it ^_^ !!

If you need clarification on ANYTHING just send me an ask and I'll be happy to explain in further detail ^_^

𐙚 : Prompts !!

The prompts are all at least semi related to me and my interests hehe....

DAY 1: Duo/trio/group you love OR remake an old edit you're not proud of

DAY 2: Edit something related to/including your favorite snack/drink OR edit with the same character in your current layout

DAY 3: Edit a purple character OR edit a character to be purple

DAY 4: Edit a character you think would love winter OR edit a character you think would hate summer

DAY 5: My Birthday !!! Edit something from my list of favorites ! Basically like. The extended whitelist idk they’re just things I love with all my heart ^_^

BONUS CHALLENGE: If you complete all five days by editing things off my favs list, you'll get an extra 2 entries in the wheel! More info in the next section ^^

𐙚 : Prizes !!

Winners will be selected from a wheel! Completing 2 days will give you 1 entry, and completing all 5 days will give you 2 entries. Like mentioned previously, you will get an extra 2 entries on the wheel by completing all 5 days with things off my whitelist ! That's a total of 5 entries if you do EVERYTHING ^^

First Place:

One layout, two graphic sets, one web decor set

Second Place:

One layout / graphic set (you choose), two icon sets, one web decor set

Third Place:

One layout / graphic set (you choose), one web decor set

𐙚 : Promo Request !

@lavendergalactic @lacism @shinjirx @ethereabun @pink-sugar @rookmeo @kieshell + anyone else who wants to ^_^

[worfs-glorious-hair]

Snippet Sunday… eh Monday

I was tagged by the fabulous @optimisticgrey to share a writing snippets and since time is relative and a social construct am I still posting something 💜

Tagging (in case you haven’t done it yet and have WIPs you want to share) @astarioffsimpmain @saintsandsorcery @ladylucksrogue and anyone else who wants to share their writing with the world 🤩💖

The following is a snippet from an OS currently titled “You are enough” and features druid!Tav with their own secrets, Gale and an enchanted meadow in act 2 👀

His brows furrow together and he is silent for a moment.

“You…”, he seems lost for words, I don’t think I have ever seen him speechless before.

“You have never been with anyone? You of all people? Apologies, I just assumed…”, he was trailing off, struggling for words.

“I’ve seen the way people look at you, the way our companions all wanted to invite you to private moments, sharing wine and bodies. I suppose I wasn’t so different to them after all. And I assumed since you must have had the world to choose from all of your life, judging from the behaviour of our companions that, well…”

Gale looked at me, eyes big and wet and his shoulders dropped.

“I am sorry I assumed details of your private life that are only your concern”, he said as his demeanour changed.

His eyes were suddenly burning into mine and he made a careful step closer to me.

I felt myself move towards him.

“What makes you think that I would want you any less after you would share this personal, intimate detail with me?”, he suddenly asks with a low voice.

“I haven’t said that”, I croak out but he is right, of course he is, this was my only fear.

“But your eyes have”, he said softly, a gentle smile dancing over his lips.

“I guess I was afraid”, I begin to answer. “Afraid that you would want an experienced lover, not some druid with the romantic experience of a fawn…”

He looks at me perplexed.

“I want you! Please, you have to know that I meant what I said – I am in love with you! All of you is what I adore, all the secrets you hide —“

This was my only secret, I promise”, I interrupt him and Gale shakes his head with a smile.

“And even if it wasn’t, they are a part of you, you, the one I love, you, the one I want to look at for the rest of my life…”, he answers and points to me on each ‘you’.

My heart races and my soul can not believe it’s luck and I smile, without my doing, without any control of my features.

Happiness is seeping out of me and into the world around me, I can not look away from Gale and his sincere eyes on me.

“And I also meant what I have said”, I tell him, “I am in love with you, too! And I will not allow you to blow yourself up, we will find another way! This will not be the end, not for you, not for me, not when we just found each other!”

[softpascalito]

I To Dig a Grave I Chapter 7 I

Summary: Twenty-one years after the outbreak, you come to Wyoming looking for something and end up in Jackson after a stranger saves your life.

But he doesn't stay a stranger.

Turns out Joel Miller is looking for something too. It feels like a fresh start. But when bad luck seems to follow you, Joel is the only one to turn to, forcing both of you to confront your feelings about your pasts- and each other.

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader Rating: Explicit / MDNI Word count: 29k+ Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Age Difference, Smut, Explicit Content, Grief/Mourning, Mental Health Issues, Canon-Typical Violence, Chose not to use Archive Warnings, Tags to be added

AO3 LINK // Series Masterlist // Playlist // ko-fi

notes: everyone be safe this year ♡

this fic will deal with heavy topics. please note that it doesn't use archive warnings and tags will be added as we go in order to avoid spoilers. each chapter will have detailed warnings in the end notes on ao3.

Chapter 7 – The Ceremony Part 2

‘I feel that I want to be forgiven, that I want her to forgive me. But I do not know how to state my crime.’

— James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room

The church is filled with more people than you even thought lived in Jackson. The front row is occupied by Mrs Moss and a woman that keeps patting her back reassuringly. Next to her, you make out Cat among a few of Lane’s friends, two or three others that you know played important roles in her life. She got to Jackson years before you, having spent most of her teenage years with the community and, evidently, having left quite an impression. The two seats on the very right are yours and Joel’s. He is anxiously perched on his, his fingers tapping the wood below him as he keeps his focus on you.

The rows behind him are filled with more friends, acquaintances, the others that help out at the school. And behind them are children. Seemingly all the children of Jackson, the ones that have been told off a million times for talking in class or not doing their homework by both Lane and you, are sitting in their finest clothes, staying still and quiet, somber expressions on their small faces.

It hurts more than anything else could.

You finish taking stock of the audience by letting your gaze fly over the last rows—and those standing behind them, for the lack of space. You see Maria and Tommy, him sending a reassuring nod your way before you both turn your attention back towards the priest, who is finishing up his speech.

“The only thing we can do is keep the memory and spirit of Lane alive. We will now hear a few words from those who knew her best. And I ask you all to listen and remember her, not for how her story ended but for who she was before.”

A short nod from the priest towards you is followed by the walk up to the small podium that seems to last a very long time. You’re painfully aware of the eyes on you, eyes that have not seen you since you’ve been carried through the town in Joel’s arms a few days ago. This too, seems much further away than it actually is.

You place the neatly typed sheets of paper on the podium and take a deep breath.

***

Joel doesn’t leave your side the entire way to the graveyard. The wind has picked up again and the gray sky promises that more snow is on the way. You’re walking just behind the front of the procession made up of Mrs Moss and a few people around her. You would’ve been very content to stay a bit further behind—it makes you feel exposed to have so many pairs of eyes following your every move. How many of them believe you didn't know about this? How many will go home and whisper about Lane behind closed doors, saying that they saw it coming. How could anyone?

The grave is outlined, even if not dug. A small wooden cross has been erected where the headstone will be eventually. You can barely bring yourself to watch as the priest places the wreath in front of it. It’s beautifully crafted, decorated with a black ribbon in the front. For a second, you forget what it symbolizes and instead just stare at the flowers. You’ve never known you could find so many colors in the Wyoming winter. There is purple and yellow—and blue. Hydrangeas and bluebells, trailing all around the twigs that hold the wreath together.

The words of the priest bring you back to the reason you’re staring at the flowers and immediately, their beauty is lost on you.

There is no ritual, no petals or earth. With no grave, you can’t help but feel there is no way to say goodbye. The cross is just a piece of wood, carrying Lane’s name and the two dates that mark the span of her life.

It’s not a very long one.

Joel steers you through the crowd, people occasionally giving you a small, sad nod. You try not to look at them for more than a few seconds, tired of the look they all have. The same face, the sad somber eyes, the same pat on your shoulder. You’re glad when you reach the town hall, the tables decorated with the same flowers you’ve just seen placed on Lane’s grave. It kills whatever appetite you try to pretend to have.

There is cake, mostly homemade, a few women and men still shuffling around the tables, trying to find a place to squeeze in their baked goods. Just like in the church, it feels like the whole town is around and, slowly but surely, people grab food and drinks and settle down, their voices low and eyes cast downward.

A few of the younger people, including Cat, eventually come up to you, expressing their condolences and inviting you to sit with them. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Joel mutters into your ear for the third time and you give a small nod. “Yeah, I get along with them. I swear, it’s okay.” He only seems mildly satisfied with your response, lingering next to the table you’ve settled down at for another second.

“Just—” You lean over to him. “Don’t leave without me?”

“I’ll be around, just want a quick word with Tommy. You come and find me if you wanna leave early, okay?” He hums into your ear and you give a quick nod before watching him make his way through the crowd.

He’s a tad less touchy, with all these people around, and as you listen to the conversations around you and attempt to swallow the cake that feels much too dry in your mouth, you catch yourself longing for another cold night and a good excuse to curl up against his body and let his warmth soothe you, away from the prying eyes and the whispered conversations that seem to follow you around.

***

Joel's eyes are scanning the crowd when he finds a familiar face, one that makes his insides churn with guilt. He glances over his shoulder, checking if you still seem okay, before making his way over to a corner towards the front of the hall.

He sighs as he reaches the table tucked away there, leaning against the wall. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey,” Ellie replies quietly, her gaze wandering around the room behind them, her eyes never quite reaching Joel. Her gaze avoiding him the same way she does. He lets a few seconds pass, forcing himself to soak in the uncomfortable silence. Then, he clears his throat quietly.

“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t come by yet, it’s all been a bit—” He struggles to find the right word. It’s complicated because Lane is dead and he needs to get that into your head without ruining you, and during all that, he also needs to ignore the thoughts in the back of his own head that seem to get louder each time he feels your body pressed against his.

“A bit much,” Ellie finishes for him. She stares at her feet for a moment before looking up, this time directly at him. “It’s fine. It’s nice she has someone who looks out for her. If that’s what this is.”

Joel feels like he’s been punched in the gut. If that’s what this is?

He sucks in a breath, watching as Ellie sways back and forth, her eyes still on him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, if you look out for her, that’s nice. Unless that still includes lying, by your definition.” Her face shows that she knows it’s a low blow. Joel nods curtly, clenching his jaw for a moment. His glance wanders back to the table you’re sitting at and he half wishes there’d be something there, some sign of distress that would give him an excuse to walk away from this conversation. But there isn’t and he knows that he doesn’t deserve it either way.

“Ellie, this ain’t the time for that,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head a bit as he shifts his focus back onto her. “If you’ve got something to say about—”

“I’m moving in with Dina.”

If he’s been punched in the gut before, now Joel is certain his attacker has added a knife to the equation. It must be visible on his face because Ellie’s defiant gaze falters slightly and seems to soften a tiny bit as she watches him, no doubt waiting for the reaction to her news. For once, he looks absolutely dumbfounded, his mouth slightly open, waiting on a confirmation that he hasn’t just heard those words.

“I didn’t mean—” Ellie groans a little, moving her hands into the air. “Not right now. But we’ve been talking about it and I figured…” She gives a small shrug. “I figured you should know. Means you can have the shed and—”

“I don’t want the damn shed,” Joel blurts out. He doesn’t say that he just wants Ellie, and preferably you, close by. He gets that she wanted some privacy, more than the illusion of it in the form of a thin wall between their rooms, but having her in his backyard seemed like a good compromise. It allowed him to make sure she ate or to have breakfast at the kitchen table, the window facing the backyard and Ellie’s front door.

Joel lets out a small breath, slowly, as he nods to himself. Damage control. That’s the best he can do right now.

“The shed is yours, always. The house is already way too big for me ‘n myself,'' Joel mutters, fighting the urge to tell her that he should get some say in this, that this is a decision that they should make together. One he’d very much like to put off for a long, long time.

Joel doesn’t know how to let go because he’s never had the chance to. Everything he’s lost has been ripped away from him with violence and blood trailing behind it. Not once has he willingly given something up. So he doesn’t know how to.

He protects and holds them close until they die in his arms. And they always die.

The image of Sarah's body flashes before his eyes for a moment and Joel grabs the edge of the table, his knuckles turning white as he tries to push the thoughts away.

“Look, I think Dina is a good—you seem to like her,” Joel mumbles, glancing around to make sure they’re not being overheard. “You do … like her, right?”

Ellie makes a noise that almost sounds like a small laugh, but somehow, it only makes Joel feel even smaller. “Yeah, she’s not so bad.”

“Right,” he responds because he can’t think of what to say to that. He racks his brain for a reply that won’t immediately cause another row, something that feels impossible with Ellie these days. He distantly longs for their time before Jackson—when she hung on his every word, never quite did as he told her but stuck with him nonetheless. A tiny voice in the back of his head points out that maybe the town tucked away behind Wyoming's mountains doesn't hold such good luck after all.

Ellie’s gaze is back on the room behind Joel and she tilts her head slightly as she speaks. “You won't be completely by yourself in the house though, right? Not with her moving in.”

It's not that she doesn't like you. The few lessons of yours she attended were admittedly fairly interesting and more than once you'd brought Ellie a new book you'd stumbled upon while learning to navigate the library—usually something about space. But the one thing she's never quite understood is your relationship with Joel, why both of you have dinners and dance around each other and still never seem to get anywhere.

“She’s not moving in,” Joel clarifies, his voice straining slightly. “Look, if that’s what this is about—” 

Ellie quickly shakes her head. “It's not. I mean—it's a factor. But it doesn’t… I don't care who lives with you, Joel.”

They both know her words are not entirely true, but Joel decides to let it slide, knowing that the only thing waiting for him here is another argument. “Okay, look. You don't know what she's going through. Lane’s death has been hard on her and none of us can imagine—”

“What it's like to see your best friend die?” Ellie interrupts. Her tone isn't loud enough to stand out among the noises of the crowd around them but it still carries that hint of disappointment. “Yeah, jeez, I really can't imagine.”

Fuck.

Joel shakes his head, his fingers tapping against the fabric of his pants more quickly. “Ellie, I didn't mean—” He sighs, his gaze wandering back to the crowded room.

It's at the same moment that Joel's eyes meet yours and you take in his features, a small frown appearing on your forehead at what you see. 

He doesn’t know that he looks so incredibly tired.

***

His mind is still on the idea of being all alone in his house, of Ellie being so damn far away, when you finally leave the funeral feast, stepping out into the cold air.

“Was that Ellie with you earlier?” you ask politely.

Joel nods weakly, unable to open his mouth, unable to tell you about their conversation or about Ellie’s plans. It feels like the knife is still lodged in his stomach.

“It’s nice you two are speaking.” He’s lucky your attention is still on your own thoughts, enough to not notice the small flicker of something that dances over his face before he takes a deep breath and goes back to pretending that everything is okay. He has an idea that you feel very similar about the day. Pretending that it’s normal to be writing eulogies instead of finals.

“Your speech was lovely,” he says in a low voice, remembering how he had to pinch himself to stop the tears from gathering in his eyes.

“Thank you,” you mumble back, your gaze focused on your feet below as you leave the main street.

“I wanted to stop by the graveyard again,” you pipe up softly. “If that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course. You wanna go now?” Joel asks carefully. The sky is still overcast, the snow piling up more and more. The town seems more bleak and cold than ever, even more so in direct comparison to the warmly lit town hall with the smell of good food and the constant hum of conversation all around.

The graveyard is empty.

The small cross and the footsteps in the snow are the only signs that someone was here. Or in Lane’s case, that someone isn’t.

As you turn the small corner that opens up to the meadow that holds around two dozen other graves, Joel carefully sneaks his arm around you, pulling you a bit closer into his side, silently vowing his support.

Your stomach drops as you get close enough to make out Lane’s name carved into the wood. Something seems to be clawing at your chest from the inside, violently attempting to find its way out of you and into existence.

A bit of snow has gathered on the cross and you reach out to wipe it off when your gaze falls onto something between the flowers below. Slowly, you bend down, trembling fingers pushing the snow to the side, only to be met with the most horrifying thing you could see placed on a grave.

It is a kid's drawing.

Two stick figures, one with blue hair, your names written underneath. A small rainbow hovers above Lane’s head, the colors just slightly off. You feel like you’re going to be sick.

You barely notice the sharp intake of breath behind you as Joel glances over your shoulder to see. His hand rubs small circles into your shoulder.

“I didn’t think they’d put them out here.”

Whatever has been inside your chest finally breaks free and with it a wave of anger like you have never known rolls over you. It settles inside every inch of you, wrapping itself around your skin, casting your body.

It moves faster than it has in days when you turn around and roughly shove Joel’s hand off you, taking a staggering step back into the untouched snow.

“You knew?”

Joel stares at you with a mix of pity and surprise. And you truly, fully hate him. For giving you that look, always giving you that look, since the first time you met. Like you’re something that’s broken, that he needs to fix.

He seems to fight to find the right words for a moment before nodding carefully, the hand that was on your back a moment ago slightly raised in a calming gesture. “They wanted to help the kids grieve. So they let them draw the pictures. Maria said—”

“I should’ve been there,” you press out, not yet willing the tears to fall that you can already feel bubbling up.

A flicker of something else flies over Joel’s face. A sternness you haven’t seen on it in a long time. “We didn’t think you were—”

“I don’t care what you think!” you roar, sending a flock of birds up in the trees flying into the sky. “I’m so tired of all of you treating me like a goddamn child!”

Joel’s face has fallen slightly and he swallows hard, raising his hand a little higher. “I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t care what you meant! None of you know what this is like so stop pretending that you understand! I never wanted this!”

“I know you didn’t,” Joel says quietly, his eyes alert and trained on you.

“You said it would all be better! You said it was so much easier and safer in Jackson, that everything would be better here! You were the one who made me stay!”

Joel just stands there, letting you yell and rage at him, and somehow, that makes it even worse. You want him to yell back, to fight you on this, to do anything but stare at you like you’re this sad thing he can’t leave. An animal that has been grazed by the bullet. Enough to hurt, not yet enough to bleed out.

“What else have you been keeping from me?!” You don’t think you even care. But now that you’ve started yelling you can’t seem to stop. Because you know that the anger is the only thing between you and the overwhelming wave of grief that will come crashing down on you the moment you allow yourself to breathe.

Joel almost looks like he wants to apologize but then his face changes and he shakes his head firmly. “I have not been keeping things from you. I’ve been protecting you.”

“I never asked for your protection!” you yell, moving a step forward to shove at his chest. It barely makes him stumble. Controlled, strong, as always. But something is simmering under his skin too. And you can practically see the moment it reaches his throat.

“Fine! The next time the kids draw pictures for you, I’ll just shove them right into your face!”

You both immediately know he’s crossed a line. Your lungs are burning, the cold air hurting your throat as your voice finally quiets down. “They drew pictures for me?”

Joel opens his mouth and closes it again, shaking his head and it suddenly becomes clear to you that he didn’t mean to say this, that you only know of yet another secret something because you’ve pushed him to a breaking point. He takes another breath, forcing his voice to be quiet when he speaks again.

“I put them below the stairs. I was gonna give them to you, I just thought it was a bit early to—”

You don’t hear the rest of his sentence, instead storming off towards the large metal gates of the graveyard. The white house on Rancher Street is not locked. The hallway seems oddly long as you hurry through it, your gaze fixed on the wooden stairs leading to your bedroom.

His bedroom, you correct yourself. You don't live here. And you surely won't after this.

The first two cupboards you open contain fresh linen that you carelessly shove out of the way. The third one holds a small plastic container that is filled to the brim with paper in a variety of colors.

There are pictures of the school, the classroom, Lane at the front. Lane surrounded by children. Lane next to someone that looks like you. Lane in the woods. There are a few poems and cards in between, each one neatly stacked in the container. There is a weathered postcard showing Flat Creek Lake.

You’re on the wooden floor of the hallway when Joel finally steps into the house. The box clutched to your chest, your body practically curled up around it.

He has been able to keep the tears at bay during your speech. He isn’t able to now. He doesn’t notice that he’s crying until the first tear slips down his cheek and he quickly uses his hand to wipe it away.

Your sobs are almost silent, your body shaking with the effort of keeping them that way.

Joel knows it’s his fault. Because despite all the arguments he’s been storing in the back of his head, he knows you’re right. He is the one who made you stay. He promised you an easier life in Jackson, watched as you trusted him and built your life here rather than anywhere else. And in return, you’d gotten two years of happiness and two pages of goodbye.

A whimper escapes your throat, weak and high-pitched, like the animal that has been grazed by the bullet is finally dying. You’re all trembling limbs and weak sobs as he carefully pries your fingers off the plastic container and sets it aside, making sure not to hide it. He’s done with that.

His back protests as he lifts you up with no support from you, no hands clutching on to him like they usually do, no arms wrapping around his torso. But you don’t fight him, which is all he thinks he can ask. He takes the stairs very slowly, careful not to trip before placing you down into his bed.

Your eyes are closed but he can’t tell whether the grief has worn you out too much or if you’re just trying to ignore that he’s there. He only lingers for a few moments, taking off your shoes and coat and spreading the thick winter blanket over you. Then, he quietly closes the bedroom door behind him and heads back downstairs, ignoring the fact that every part of his body is screaming at him to turn back, to find your trembling body below his sheets and wrap himself around you, hands sneaking over your skin.

Instead, he creates a makeshift bed for himself on the couch, kicks off his own boots and settles down, his eyes landing on his wrist. The hands sitting below the cracked glass of his watch are still, the exact way they have been for over twenty years.

He allows his mind to wander to his daughter for a few moments. Not the night of her death, not even the year. But to her first day of school, to their first Christmas, to his daughter Sarah rather than his dead daughter Sarah.

‘Remember her not for how her story ended but for who she was before.’

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

notes: thank you for reading ♡

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

See though the mist

Heyy I’m back with part two now let’s go!

As Danny woke up he expected to see a clod white  ceiling like he has been for the past … week or so..? Yeah that’s about the right amount of time right? How long had he been locked up in that cold white room that smelled of chemicals and the metallic blood smell and the sounds of their screams…wait that was him wasn’t it huh….

….oh wait where is he Danny thinks with suddenly clarity and a bit of panic and sits up and that turns out to be a bad idea as a jolt of pain goes through Danny “ok bad idea bad idea” Danny saids voice a bit strained by the pain and falls back on to his back that when Clockwork in all his Cyptid ass glory “Hello Daniel how are you feeling?” Clookwork ask “like I’ve been hit with a bus” Clockwork just nods

A few hours later

Danny’s walking next to Clockwork as they walk to….somewhere and as they get closer to a forest? “So where are we going? You really just gave me bandages and some new clothes which thank you” Danny liked the new outfit it was white and hangs of his shoulders ( due to not really being fed by the GIW) and goes to his ankles and he’s pretty sure this counts as a dress but it was comfortable and a lot better than his old clothes that were covered in his own blood ( he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to wear tight clothes like that ever again ) anyway they get to the edge of the forest and that’s when Clockwork specks up “Now Daniel I am unable to take care of you-“ Danny was about to interject and say he didn’t need to be taken care of but Clockwork holds up a hand to stop him and continues “ but I know someone who can be of help to you and your unborn child” Clockwork says as they walk into the forest it takes a few minutes….or 30 times weird in the forest Danny finds himself with clockwork in front of a castle.

The castle itself looks extremely overgrown and taken care of just enough so the greenery doesn’t take the castle down with its weight but still very overgrown, Danny and clockwork walk into a large part of the castle it looks like where the throne should be but it is probably under the gigantic tree that is so big it goes through the roof and it’s surrounded by a large lagoon with many different types of water plants and if look into it you can see the trees gigantic roots that are bigger than him and isn’t that humbling

As Danny looks around his eye catch a beautiful black snake with green eyes ( Danny’s always thought snakes were very cute) that is wrapped around one of the branches of the tree and it seems the snake sees him to as they start to slither down from their branch but Danny can’t really think about it to long as a gigantic snake ( not as big as the tree but big ) and its head was outstretched out to them but the rest of its body was still in the tree an then a voice come from the snake “…Hello Clockwork…”

=====================================

It’s been years since Vesper and Clockwork have seen each other after Vesper needed his help with the castle some humans thought it would be a good idea to try to set it on fire to get the land and to kill the snakes

As the castle was burning down with all of us snakes inside that when clockwork came and said he would help keep the humans out and exchange Vesper own him a favor not that he minded to much if the castle and the Den was safe that good enough for him

but he was not expecting that when clockwork would came to get the favor is that he would bring a hatching why isn’t it with their mother and Den??? But as clockwork explains the hatchings ( he now knows as Danny) situation after all he feels is

PURE RIGHTEOUS RAGE

How dare these humans hurt a HATCHING ( that is with a hatching himself) and from the other snakes hisses ( yells in snake) they are outraged as he is, it would not surprise him if the others in the den have already decided this boy is now one

And he is in agreement with them

And that’s it for part two! Sorry if the words are weird if your see any of my stuff you can tell I have bad grammar

Anyway hope you guys liked it byeee

=====================================

TAGGS

@thatoneweirdshipper @phantasama @siluver @fucking-brains-out

[800db-cloud]

spare some spy hcs? 👀

OKAY. ok. so i have been putting off answering this ask because i’m admittedly very shy and very afraid of sharing my headcanons. and also because i have A LOT OF THEM.. but here we are!

here are my headcanon spies :) René works for RED and Jacques works for BLU!

where to start, where to start… i have a LOT of headcanons for them, i’ll be talking for FOREVER here. i’ll just start with story because why not! xP

René’s parents were also agents/spies, so he was always destined to be one as well. And he lives up to his parents’ legacies! He’s most notorious for destroying gangs and mobs and the like from the outside in. He was brought to America years ago to take out a dangerous mob boss, but unfortunately found himself infatuated (and involved) with the boss’ daughter. Luckily for him, the boss’ daughter wanted the guy dead, too.

René’s story is honestly a lot more fleshed out than Jacques’, but here goes anyway:

Jacques’ father was a very rich and powerful man in politics. Jacques himself was the result of an affair, and to keep it hush-hush, his father decided to raise him. Raise is a strong word, though— but he did help his father gain intelligence and blackmail on opposing political parties. Jacques proved to be a promising spy since childhood.

If anyone has any suggestions/ideas for Jacques’ story, let me know haha x) he didn’t have the greatest upbringing per se…

last thing on this section i wanna talk about is the Scouts. René is related to both of the Scouts; he’s RED Scout (Jeremy)’s biological father, and he’s BLU Scout (James)’ adoptive/step-father. Jacques has no relation to either scout, but acts as a guardian figure to BLU Scout.

anyway, this is the part where i continue talking about other miscellaneous headcanons! and these come with doodles :)

You couldn’t catch René DEAD without his mask, or his suit! He’d neeever take them off around other people (‘other people’ is mainly just Scout. For obvious reasons.) Meanwhile, Jacques is pretty lenient in letting his teammates see his face! Everyone on BLU’s seen his face at least once.

A big part of why René refuses to strip down is also due to the fact he has a LOT of tattoos. No doodle for this one because I’ve yet to decide on what tattoos to put on him (ideas are very welcome!!), but yeah! Most of the tattoos were ‘forced’ onto him/he had to get for jobs and ‘fitting in’ with bad crowds, but a good few of them were of his own accord, too.

Jacques doesn’t have tattoos, but he has a myriad of another thing: scars! Lots and lots of scars on this guy. Faded and old, sure, but they’re there. Most prominent ones are the one around his neck (from when the RED Medic beheaded him) and the ones on his forearms (those are from the LAST time he was imprisoned— looong story…)

René doesn’t cook very often for his team, but when he does, everyone’s always BLOWN AWAY by this guy’s cooking! René’s really bad at taking compliments, though— (“Cooking food that’s remotely edible isn’t a compliment, it’s basic survival.”) —but rest assured he’ll be thinking about it for the next month. Jacques, however… Do NOT let this guy into the kitchen. Ever. The BLU base has a special fire extinguisher “In Case Spy Decides To Turn On The Stove”

oooh, this one is an hc and a HALF to me. René much prefers working alone. It’s just in his nature, being isolated and whatnot. He likes to deal with things by himself– maybe he doesn’t want to burden others? On the contrary, Jacques NEVER works alone. It’s a trait he’s had even before being hired to BLU. You never know when things could go wrong, so it’s best to have someone else to fall back to… or someone else you can blame!

these hcs both have something to do with how René and Jacques show their trust in other people :) it’s a bit convoluted but it gets there:

René is, amusingly, very bad at remembering names. Almost laughably bad. There have been many-a-story of his days before RED where he’d get a target’s name wrong, even after he’d repeated it in his head dozens of times over. Names are difficult for him, so if he remembers yours, it means you mean a lot to him! He prefers using his teammates’ names rather than their titles. René is unaware of how charming this specifc trait is to his coworkers (they saw how much work and effort it took for him to memorize their names, they’re just happy with how far he’s come!)

Jacques has a… to put simply, very complicated relationship with food. But the one thing he’ll never turn down is sweets. His favorites especially being chocolate bonbons. Jacques has a hard time eating in front of others, let alone sharing his food! But if he genuinely likes and trusts you enough, he’d have half the mind to share with you. Admittedly, he hasn’t brought himself to share with most of the members of his team yet, except for a select few. Mostly BLU Medic and BLU Sniper.

—

and of course, eventually, EVENTUALLY, these two also become friends! it took a little bit but believe me, they both respect each other’s skill in their job :)

AHHg i could go sooo much longer about them— from things like their physical traits (how much teeth they have? it’s a pressing question) or different periods of their life (why did rené have to leave his family? why was jacques imprisoned for the last time?) BUT this post is so… so, so long. My fingers hurt from typing

If you’ve managed to read through this Beast, THANK YOU RAAHH!!! thanks so much for asking this, too. i hope to spare more hcs someday. hehe ^_^

[asmogorna]

unfortunate catch ,,

[aspiring-prototype]

Seeing all these posts on the DCA's bday and the 21st of September got me making this thing.

*sensibly chuckles to self*

Happy Reveal-versary to Sun & Moon and happy 21st Sept!

@crabsnpersimmons , thank you for the advice!

[foursaints]

trying to put words to how exactly my peter pettigrew deviates from fanon and i think ultimately, as most things, it has to do with james. because peter meta is at its best when you (correctly, i think) understand james potter as a villain in the story. james potter is interesting precisely because he is seen as an infallible hero by one half of canon AND irredeemable villain by the other, but both groups technically have an accurate understanding of him. and his behavior (and your perception of him) wholly depends on what side of the gulf you're standing on.

like, james is an amazing friend and gallant war hero but he still sexually harasses snape in public with impunity. he became a good husband to lily but the way he treated her for years was exploitative and gross. these are facts. and it tracks that the people who have only been exposed to james's ugly side would (accurately) see him as an entitled scion who wields societal power and chooses to abuse the powerless. to "dark wizards", james is as much an example of privileged pureblood cruelty as canon draco is to canon harry.

and peter pettigrew is interesting because he is someone who, for unclear reasons, was lucky enough to be picked as a "good guy" and thus be treated well by "good james". except unlike everyone else who has encountered or been won over by "good james", peter still sees him as a villain and is incapable of forgiving him— for valid reason!! peter is still a gryffindor at his core and he has gryffindorish motivation. like, his murdering james isn't a judas escariot story. from peter's perspective it's far more like Claudia killing Lestat.