#in my defense i have tried many times it just never stuck until it did

[vicioustoker]

they're so stupid i would die for them

[strawbeerossi]

Cherry

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: You decide to wear a little tank top to your lecture and you catch the attention of Dr. Reid.

Content/Warnings: Power imbalance, professor/student, age gap (r 20s, s 40s), reader is a bit of a tease, tit worship, oral (m rec), tit fucking, cum on tits.

Word Count: 1.7K

Kinktober Day Twenty Seven: Tit Fucking

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

In your defense you had to do laundry and you just didn’t have the time before your lecture. You were lucky enough to find a pair of shorts, however you were stuck with a tank top that barely covered much of anything. You made sure to get your sweater before heading out, draping it over your shoulders as you were running out of your apartment. Campus was only about a ten minute walk, so you didn’t mind too much taking the brief walk.

As you’d made it to the old building where the criminal justice classes were held, you were pushing open the doors as you headed inside. Taking the same path as usual, it wasn’t long until you were making it to the lecture hall that Dr. Reid used Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. His class was always an interesting one, your love of criminal justice being newfound. At first, you’d audited a separate criminal justice class and ended up being genuinely interested.

As you walked into the heavy doors, you were blushing as all the eyes were on you. You were late, however it wasn’t too bad. Dr. Reid wasn’t on a long tangent yet so you knew you were safe. “Please take a seat.” His voice spoke up while he offered a smile, turning his attention back to the board as he was writing his layout of the lecture. “Make sure you sign the sheet as well, I need to keep track of attendance.”

As you made your way to an empty desk towards the front of the class, you were placing your backpack by your side as you kept your gaze on the board after pulling out your laptop to take notes. You’d spent a good chunk of class asking a majority of questions or being called on. Maybe you were delusional but you felt like he was putting extra focus on you today. You had hardly spoken to your professor, so you weren’t sure why the sudden interest.

It didn’t occur to you that your attire was what had his full attention. The way the white tank top showed off a tasteful view of your cleavage was enough to make Spencer want to drool. He’d always been a fan of tits, having an affinity with them. They were just.. So perfect. Soft, warm, begging to be touched. However, he tried composing himself. You were his student. This was inappropriate.

As the class was coming to an end, you were staying after to apologize for your tardiness. Not many professors accepted such apologies but Dr. Reid was understanding. He knew what it was like to be a student who was all over the place. Today though, he wished you would’ve left. “Dr. Reid, I just wanted to apologize. I know I wasn’t too desperately late but I still feel like it’s my responsibility to let you know that I’m sorry. I didn’t respect your time,”

Spencer was turning to look at you while putting his hands up. “Nonsense. I’d never hold it against you. Things happen.” His face was red as his eyes were struggling to say locked with yours. You were a bit confused by the look on his face but you had brushed it off. “I just feel horrible,” You spoke while you let your arms cross slowly over your chest.

Whenever you did, Spencer couldn’t help but let his eyes cast downwards, your arms under your breasts enough to push them up and give him quite the sight. His hand was slowly moving to straighten out his tie as he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from your smooth skin. That was hard to ignore so you let your eyes glance down before noticing just what captivated your professor’s attention. Instead of moving to cover your partially exposed chest, you were sticking it out more. You liked the attention, if you were honest. You weren’t used to getting too much of it.

Spencer was licking over his bottom lip while letting his eyes drag up from your chest to your neck, then stopping on your face. “I know what you’re trying to do and it’s inappropriate.” He stated in a simple tone while you raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you mean, Dr. Reid. I was just minding my own business and you were staring at my chest. I think you’re the one acting inappropriately, not to mention highly unprofessional.” You stated. There were no hard feelings actually, you just found it incredibly hot to find your professor staring at your body, a hungry look in his eyes.

“Wearing what you are wearing right now is equally inappropriate. Do you know how distracting it is whenever an attractive woman has her tits in your face for the whole lecture and after the fact?” He asked, continuing on with this little game. “You think I’m attractive? I’m flattered, sir.” You didn’t know where the rush of confidence came from, however you enjoyed this. Wearing a tank top and going braless to class wasn't a choice you’d made on purpose, however the reaction it pulled out of your professor was too good to pass up.

“I can always take it off instead?” You suggested. The mere idea being mentioned had your professor groaning lowly as he glanced at the door of the lecture hall. He didn’t have another class for thirty minutes, plus his fellow coworkers weren’t going to barge in because of their own plans. “Come here.” He grunted, waiting for you to get close enough before grabbing your tank top and tugging it down. Your tits spilled over the thin material as he did so, the male letting out a whine of sorts as he brought his hands to your chest. His hands cupped your breasts, giving them a squeeze and eliciting a whine from you. “Can’t believe you wore this to class of all places. I bet you wanted my attention.”

Your cheeks were heating up at the accusation, his hands kneading at your soft flesh as he was dipping his head down to flick his tongue against your right nipple. As he sucked and flicked at the hardened nub, your fingers tangled in his soft curls. “Fuck.” You cursed, watching as your professor was having a field day licking and sucking at your tits. He looked like a boob guy so it made sense on why he’d spend so much time in them. His warm tongue was dragging over every ounce of your skin as he alternated between nipples. While one was in his mouth, the other was being pinched and rolling through his long fingers.

By the time he’d had enough, he was pulling away with a satisfied hum as he assessed the damage he had made. There were purple marks all over your skin, nipples standing at full attention and the shine of his saliva shining under the bright lights of the lecture hall. “Get on your knees.” The man commanded. Who were you to argue? You watched as he was tugging down his pants and boxers just enough to let his hardened cock spring to life, smacking against his abdomen. You were definitely staring, mouth watering as you took in the beauty of the dick in front of you. With a slight curve and bulging veins along with a leaking head, it was a beautiful sight.

“Gonna have to have you get it wet enough so I can fuck those pretty tits of yours.” He murmured, watchinf as you were quick to take the tip of his cock in your mouth. You massaged his slit with your tongue before hearing him tell you to hurry up due to the time getting shorter and shorter until another group of students were coming in. Swallowing down his cock the best of your ability, you were letting your head move slowly along the shaft as your cheeks hollowed. Once he felt like he was lubed up enough to avoid rubbing your skin raw, his hand was roughly gripping your hair before tugging you off of him.

Your hands were coming up to your chest to push your breasts together, watching the male standing above you stroke his cock a few times before getting in a good position. His cock was sliding between them, a low groan leaving his lips. “You look so good on your knees for me.” He commented, voice low as he was starting by slowly slotting his dick through the valley of your tits. “Gonna make a mess of your chest. Gonna show you why you shouldn’t wear shit like that in my class.” He huffed, his thrusts getting a bit more intense by the minute.

As his cock slotted effortlessly through the valley of your breasts, you were dipping your head down to attempt at licking any part of him that you could with each thrust. Even with your spit lubing him up, you knew that you were going to feel the after effects later but you honestly didn’t care. His thrusts continued, eventually growing sloppy as the whines, whimpers and moans were falling from his lips. Even with some dominance, he whined and whimpered with each thrust, relishing in the feeling of your soft flesh enclosing his cock. “I’m gonna cum.” His voice slurred, thrusts still a bit sloppy but it wasn’t long until the warmth of his sticky cum was on your chest, some even on your chin from the line of fire. With his spent decorating your chest, Spencer had to grab his phone to snap a quick picture of you. “You look so sexy, I can’t help myself.” He chuckled.

As he was tucking his cock back into his bottoms and tugging them up, he was grabbing a tissue from his desk before offering it out to you, letting you get cleaned up. Once the tank top was covering your most valuable assets, he was chuckling. “You should get out of here.” He commented, making you nod as you tried to make yourself look presentable. On your way out, you stopped when you heard his voice. “Oh, by the way.” He began, making you turn.

“Never wear a tank top to my class again.”

[mischiefmaker615]

Take Two

Summary: Somehow you find yourself facing 2 Loki's! but don't worry.. you're in safe hands..

Loki from the Thor films will be be Loki(OG) and Loki will be from Ragnarok/Infinity Wars era. bare with me *sweats*

Rated: R

Note: *sweats more* my first threesome one shot of some sorts..

Front row seats: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @itgirl-cad @firelightinferno @liminalpebble @izka8520 @huntedmusicgardenn @loki-laufeyson223 @skittslackoffilter

‘’you will not harm her.’’

‘’I have no intentions on harming her, I assure you. just those who are in my way..’’

You lost track of how many times your eyes have gone back and forth until they gave up once you began getting circled. You had no memory of what had happened a few hours ago, just how you went to bed and.. that’s it. was this a dream? A nightmare? No.. it couldn’t be.. Loki was here, you knew you wouldn’t be harmed.. yet you still tried wrapping your head around the fact that somehow your wrists were strapped to a chair. The cold temperature in the room reminded you just how short your nightgown was as it stopped mid-thigh, hugging your body tighter then the oxygen that struggled to leave your lungs as you took in the scene before you.

Loki(OG) passed your right side once more, chest out and strutting elegantly in his royal attire of leather and armor. His eyes weren’t on you, thankfully.. his dagger clutched in his hand as he held his attention on his opponent that came before you once more in a completely circle and they both kept going. This Loki was dressed similarly just.. less armor, a more casual form but still held the vibe that he was royal and could strike you down in half a second- thus clutching his own dagger with his eyes on the.. other Loki.

‘’where am i?’’ you manage to get your mouth to form words as you realized you were shaking. ‘’how did I get here?-‘’ it looked like you were almost in an interrogation room, with you three being the only ones in the light, surrounded by darkness. If anyone would take a few steps back anywhere, they would surly not be seen. However your voice was enough to have them both pause a few steps away from either side of you, their stance still in defense towards the other but their eyes at least never showed you anything with bad intentions..

‘’you are safe darling, we are.. unsure of our whereabouts as well-‘’ Loki(OG) started, his voice gentle as if it were to calm you as his eyes traveled your body as you shook.

‘’we both know you, it is quite difficult to know who exactly you belong too- but I am most certainly not going to give you up if there is a slight chance you are mistakenly placed’’ Loki snapped as he held his dagger defensively towards the other Loki(OG), fully intending to protect you as your body tensed.

‘’what are you talking about?’’

‘’the multiverse.’’ They both said in unison.

That’s right.. now you remember.. Dr Strange must have accidently hit you instead of.. whoever you were fighting and must have sent you.. here? whatever universe you were stuck in now,.. you supposed this one had multiple Loki’s.

‘’not multiple love, but the same, in each stage of life brought together. Or at least… the two of us. The other’s in the other branches must not have been affected.’’ Loki(OG) explained, smirking as your eyes widened at the fact that he had read your mind.

‘’in our branch, there is a version of you, exactly how you are now. You disappeared.. I am here to take you back with me where you belong.’’ Loki said gently, as if his tone alone would convince you but the other Loki(OG) stepped closer.

‘’she belongs on my timeline- I will not lose her again’’ Loki(OG) snapped and they both starred each other down.

‘’I remember-‘’ you started, making them both look back at you. ‘’I was attacked in my apartment, some Hydra agents that Strange was tracking- something happened and I was accidently sent here to these.. to a different branch as you say..’’ you explained, getting why you were in your nightgown now. ‘’but that still doesn’t explain why I’m tied up-‘’

Loki(OG) chuckled, turning your attention over to him. ‘’you have a tendency to be a bit.. feisty when you awaken suddenly or are in foreign surroundings. it was a way to have you find yourself calmly.’’

‘’well in any case..’’ you said slowly, still trying to wake up from whatever dream.. nightmare- you still weren’t sure- this was. ‘’you both aren’t the Loki I know.. the one on my branch is quite different.. he and I didn’t become a thing until he was a bit older than.. I suppose how you are right now..’’ you explain slowly as you look towards the more.. casual dressed Loki. You felt your cheeks reddening at the subject, but you both didn’t become a thing until he was a part of the TVA. Before he dropped you to your branch..

They both looked at each other and tensed, but you knew they could tell you weren’t lying, and their expressions turned to disappointment.

‘’well, I suppose we should both begin our search then for the other version of yourself, you are clearly apart of a different branch.’’ Loki said quietly and slowly vanished his dagger, his body relaxing as the other did the same.

‘’or.. perhaps we could have a little fun with this..’’ Loki(OG) said in a quieter tone as his eyes dragged back to you, making your hands clench as you tried to unnoticeably pull your wrists against your restraints.

The other Loki was silent, having an unreadable expression like all the others as he looked to you as well. Somehow the room seemed to feel smaller, darker, or perhaps it felt that was when Loki(OG) found himself at your side, his thigh barely ghosting against yours as your eyes rose to meet his hungry gaze.

‘’take me home..’’ you said quietly, fear and nervousness of the unknown dripping off your voice as your thighs pressed together.

‘’we will my darling, we will..’’ he seemed to coo, dragging light finger tips against your cleavage, his eyes drinking any skin you had exposed before his slender digits ghosted upward, trailing a finger to trace your collarbone. ‘’we promise, we love you.. in all our branches, and you love us. You cant tell me you haven’t thought of the possibilities..’’ he dared as his hand trailed up your neck and grasped your jaw now so you were looking at him. ‘’magic has its ways, duplicates though can be it’s own.. erotic adventure..’’

Although you couldn’t move your head, you strained your eyes to look down as you felt a pair of hands gently rest at your bare knees, caressing the skin with long, cold digits and you knew it was the other Loki. He sank down to his knees before you, having no trouble prying your legs apart as your fingers gripped the arms of the chair.

‘’please…’’ you begged, barely a whisper as your heart rate picked up. You loved Loki, the one you were with back home.. you knew these two were also Loki.. but not? It all felt so strange, so much to wrap your head around and you felt Loki(OG) tilt your head up to look up at him again.

‘’calm that beautiful mind of yours love. We will take great care of you and will not force you into anything you wouldn’t enjoy’’ he whispered, sinking down on one kneel to your side and you felt the tip of his nose ghost against your neck as he inhaled. ‘’mm practically perfect in any universe..’’ he whispered..

‘’she feels perfectly the same as she did when I had her.. gods I’ve missed you..’’ Loki’s lips murmured as he began kissing the inside of your thigh by your knee and he slowly dragged his lips towards your center with open mouth kisses.

The other (OG)Loki’s hand left your jaw as you moved to look away from him, only to feel his fingers slowly glide up into your hair and pulled just enough to tilt your head back, making you whimper just slightly. Your breaths were short, eyes wide, and mind doing it’s best to think rather than to feel. Although, they were making it extremely difficult as you felt (OG)Loki’s tongue drag itself against your neck, sucking at your skin while his other hand ghosted over your breast.

You shamefully felt yourself arch every so slightly, catching yourself as you retreated but he was already smirking against your skin. ‘’do not deny the pleasures of this world darling, we do not know how long we have in its universe after all’’ he whispered and gently began massaging your breast.

Yoi felt yourself shiver, trying to strain your back from arching until the soreness made you give up and pushed more against his wicked hand. You felt the other Loki between your legs, having switched to your other thigh as he caressed it with his mouth. He had switched just before he had got to your center and you hated yourself for feeling disappointed.

‘’do not fret darling, I promise we will get there’’ he smirked up at you as his hands caressed your knees as his lips continued.

‘’s-stay out of my head..’’ you whimper, feeling (OG)Loki’s hand now raise and move itself under your nightgown to grope you properly, playing with our nipples as he alternated between your globes.

‘’as you wish darling, your body tells us just enough..’’ he whispered before spreading your legs wider and raised your nightgown ever so slightly to reveal black, lace panties.

‘’my my it was almost as if you were expecting something tonight’’ he smirked and his eyes flashed dangerously up at yours. ‘’I do hope that particular Dr didn’t see anything that didn’t belong to him..’’

You felt the other (OG)Loki’s grip in your hair tighten ever so slightly as he pinched your nipple, making a gasp leave your lips as you arch.

‘’even if he has, it would just be another reason to claim you. over.. and over.. and over again..’’ he whispered and began nibbling on your ear lobe, causing goosebumps to spring up upon your skin as he squeezed at your breast.

Another gasp left your mouth as you felt the flat of Loki’s tongue play against your center against the panties while his fingers slid up against your hips and gripped your underwear.

‘’as beautiful as they are, they have no use anymore’’ he smirked and pulled them down and they were history behind him as he spread you wide again.

Your heart pounded as you felt his breath against your center, teasing you at first as your legs shook. The other Loki(OG) pulled your shirt down, using the stretchy fabric to his advantage so he could place his mouth on your breast now. A moan left your mouth before you could think to silence yourself and you already knew they both were smirking as your cheeks reddened.

‘’that’s more like it darling...’’ Loki murmured before he gave you a long lick against your cunt.

A gasp left your lips as you head fell back, your arms straining against the binds as your pleasure already began to build. The tip of his tongue began teasing your clit, flicking and lapping against it while he took turns sucking as well.

Your body shook and your breaths were almost none existent until you forced yourself to breath periodically while he massaged your clit. Both had wicked tongues, giving you an overwhelming state of pleasure, there was too much to keep track of what was going on. Your eyes squeezed shut, allowing yourself to just feel and your lips parted with no words.

Loki(OG) flicked his tongue against your nipple, nibbling and sucking while making sure to give the other equal attention.

Your eyes fluttered open as you moaned, feeling his tongue plunge inside you, feeling how his moan vibrated your inside which only built more to your pleasure. Your arms strained, wanting so desperately to grasp his hair, to touch.. someone.. and feeling him smirk against your cunt, you didn’t even care if he read your mind or not.

Your eyes opened once more to find that Loki(OC) was now nose to nose with you, his lips ghosting yours as a hand remained playing with your chest while the other now returned to your jaw, his thumb brushing against your lip before opening your mouth slightly.

‘’you’re going to cum for us darling, right now’’ he murmured, pressing his lips to yours as he caressed your tongue with his, almost feeling like the same movement as the wicked tongue attacking your center.

You moaned in his mouth, leaning forward as much as possible as he grasped your hair and got tongue fucked by both your mouth and your cunt. It was to much and your center squeezed and fluttered just as he added his fingers to play with your cunt. Moaning shamelessly into (OG)Loki’s mouth as Loki drove his tongue into you, helping you ride it out as you spasmed and shook before having calmed down once their movements slowed down.

Panting, Loki(OG) smirked as he leaned up and brushed his lips to your forehead, the other wiping his face and licking his fingers, making your cheeks redden.

‘’we won’t stop until we find you love, I’m sure you’ll have a lot of new ideas once you return. Magic nearly makes anything possible. Perhaps your Loki could conjure up a few more’’ Loki(OG) smirked, winking as he stroked your cheek while you looked dick drunk even though they’ve used everything except cock. Just the idea made your eyes wonder and Loki gave a dangerous look while he leaned down to be nose to nose with you.

‘’I think we still have some time left before this Dr of yours finds you..’’

[linophrynelight]

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Legendary: Success]

Kim stands outside the back door of Precinct 41, smoking. Jean walks up next to him and lights a cigarette. He takes a deep drag and hesitates for a long, tense moment before opening his mouth.

"We need to talk."

"Yes we do," Kim replies. The lieutenant's words are quick and ready like a loaded pistol. "Your actions earlier were highly unprofessional. I understand that you still don't believe Harry has changed, but you can't speak to him like that in front of the other officers. Give him a chance to prove himself -- or at least, keep your feelings to yourself so the rest of the precinct can."

Jean frowns as the two make eye contact. Kim's voice is calm and professionally cold, but the fire in his eyes betrays him. They're full of anger, defensiveness, overshadowed by a tender protectiveness.

It's a look that's painfully familiar.

Jean maintains eye contact. "How long has Harry been sober this time?"

"Three months. You already know this, he stopped cold turkey the day after he lost his memory."

"I was just wondering if he'd slipped up yet." Jean looks down at his cigarette and ashes it. "Figured if anyone knew, it'd be you. I've known him for almost five years now, and I've lost track of how many times he's tried to go sober. He usually falls off the wagon by now, but the longest he's gone without a drink is six months."

Jean looks up again. "You haven't seen the full cycle yet, you've only seen him on the upswing. The longer he's sober, the harder he'll relapse. He won't realize how much his tolerance has gone down, and he'll be furious at himself, and the world, and at you for trying to help him. Look."

Jean leans over and parts the hair on the side of his head to reveal a scar. It's still pink, hasn't yet faded to silver against his pale skin.

"That last time, he was doing okay until a particularly difficult case. He was placed on leave for a week. I was worried about him -- what he might do without work to keep him busy. I stopped by his apartment to check on him."

Jean hesitates. "He was naked, covered in vomit. Too drunk to talk. Just kept mumbling "fuck you" and "lemme die" as I cleaned him up. After half an hour of trying to get him out of the tub I finally snapped at him, knowing he wouldn't remember anything I said anyway. I think I told him he's an asshole for always making his feelings everyone else's problem. He punched me, and I fell back and hit my head on the corner of the sink."

He takes a deep breath, glaring at nothing on the ground in front of him, then continues. "Of course he didn't remember anything the next day. He said sorry a million times but it was clear he couldn't quite wrap his head around the idea that it had actually happened."

"It was like that every time he went too hard on the drink. He'd scream, make threats, sometimes hurt people. You've heard about the case with the two drunks, right? Then once it's over, the monster who did all those things is just gone. Harry is back, with nothing but tearful apologies and heartfelt promises that he'll never do any of it again."

Jean finally looks up again. Kim's shoulders are still tense but his expression has gone from angry to unreadable. He was ready for a fight, not this.

"I stuck by that asshole's side for years. I told myself that he would get better someday. That those times he saved my life somehow made up for the way he treated me during his benders, and that the apologies really meant something even though I knew he was just going to get drunk and do it again. And every time he would hate himself a little more. And then he'd drown that hatred with even more alcohol."

Jean takes one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out on his shoe. "The thing with alcoholics is... Once they've given up on themselves, you have no choice. You have to give up on them too. For your own sake. If you try to run their lives for them, to pick up the slack whenever their addiction makes them drop the ball on something, you'll only end up enabling them. I did that for too long. And now you're trying to tell me that after I finally accepted the truth and let go, this is the time he finally got his shit together? I don't believe it."

Kim is silent for a while. He looks down at his cigarette, burnt down to the filter. He stubs it out and tosses it into a nearby trashcan, then he looks up at Jean. "I'm very sorry you had to go through that," he says carefully. The anger in his voice is gone. "It must have been incredibly difficult. I don't blame you for hitting your limit. But... I think this time really is different."

"I hope you're right, but unless-" Jean's voice cracks suddenly, surprising himself. "I can't trust him unless I know he's finally changed."

"Only time will tell," Kim says quietly.

[watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees]

Back Home

for now this is where the story ends chronologically

did i manage to mention 2 characters ive never even spoken of before? yes! that is to say, the story's far from finished, this is just the latest current event in the timeline as i think of it (edit: they're introduced in the honeymoon chapters so they aren't that random anymore)

masterlist

previous

TW: ptsd, whumpee visiting whumper, lots of dehumanisation, very fucked up dynamic changes

Emery had stared at the shiny surface of Luke's business card for what seemed like hours. She should have ripped it in half and thrown it at him before heading back to the courtroom, instead she pocketed it and only remembered she had it at home.

She was too anxious to sit down, and placed her phone on the kitchen counter staring at the numbers she copied from the card.

Was she really about to flush all the progress she made down the drain and call him? The man who kept her as a pet for years, Luke Fletcher, who made her life a living hell even after she escaped, a small piece of him still stuck in her brain like years old gum stuck to a bench in the park.

It was true that she needed the money, but was it really worth it becoming indebted to that monster?

She pressed on the call button without thinking further. It rang loud and clear each beep sending shivers down her spine. She prayed he wouldn't pick it up. Then she could've had a peace of mind, and when he inevitably called back, revenge would taste sweet as she would disconnect the line.

"Fletcher-Richards, how can I help?" she shuddered, the familiar phrase had been burnt into her mind, of course he gave her his private number. She lost all sense of what she was about to say. No words came to mind she just stared at the phone.

"Em?" he asked, figuring it out quickly. She swallowed hard.

"Yes" she confirmed.

"Great, I was wondering when you'd call. Listen, I looked into your lawyer better, and I severely overestimated him, he doesn't stand a chance. I was thinking-"

"I'm sorry, S-" she stopped herself just in time not to say it "sorry, but I don't want to talk. I just want to know if you meant it? About the money?" Emery hoped the correction was smooth enough that he didn't notice.

"I wouldn't have offered if I didn't" he scoffed "Just hear me out okay?"

"Sure" she sighed. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself she was allowed to say no, she didn't actually know how.

"I can give you the number of another lawyer, who'll help you out and maybe even get you a good deal. He's the second best in the city"

"The best one wasn't available, huh?" she half whispered it, but Luke still replied.

"I don't think the same person can represent both the defense and prosecution in the same trial" Emery knew that he was laughing. As if the whole situation was a joke between old friends "I'll arrange it for you, just come by tomorrow"

"To-tomorrow?" Way too soon.

"Would you prefer to drag it out a few more days?" Of course not. She knew she wouldn't sleep at night anyway.

"No. Sorry"

"I'm home all day, the gate will open for your car"

...

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. There still was some hope they'd miss the sound and she could just leave. Tell Luke noone opened the door when he inevitably calls.

"Good morning, come on in" he greeted her with a bright smile and stepped aside to let her in. The familiar scent of the house filled up her lungs and for a moment she thought she'd burst into tears.

"Make yourself comfortable" he gestured towards the living room to her left "The papers are in my office, I'll be right back"

She stayed frozen in place until she lost sight of him as he disappeared in the stairwell.

Nothing had changed. The floor was still covered by the long red running carpet she cleaned so many times before. The walls were the same eggshell white colour, warm and comforting to anyone, who hadn't been confined to this hell of a place.

She made her way to the dining table and pulled a chair out for herself. She took a second before she sat down on it and tried to calm herself. It was just like any chair at home. She didn't have to kneel next to it ever again.

"Damn, look what the cat dragged in" A chill ran through her so deep she felt it in her bones. She made eye-contact with Cole, who casually made his way over to the table and sat down across from her.

Emery couldn't do anything, just stare at him like a deer in the headlights of a truck that definitely won't slow down or swerve to avoid it.

Everything was wrong. The phone she had in her pocket burnt as it was something she's not supposed to have, the air around her neck felt freezing without the collar around, and she was sitting by the dining table, eye to eye with her ma-.

"Is the prodigal daughter finally returning?" he teased with a grin. As if he didn't know why she was there.

"No" she forced out and looked away. She was on the verge of tears again.

"I'm kidding" he laughed and laid back in his seat, his gaze burnt holes in the side of her face "Luke will be right back"

She nodded and risked a glance over to Cole again. He barely changed if he did at all. His skin was dark brown and rich as ever, from travelling all around the globe, vacationing together with Luke in the most luxurious sunny beaches, where even the sun shines differently, whenever they could. His hair short and dark, immaculate. He shot her an award winning smile.

"I had to ask, just to make sure, now that you're here you cold stay a while" There it was again, words that pierced her skin and twisted like a blade.

"Everything okay here?" Luke entered and Emery could breathe again. She hated how relieving his presence was, as if he already started lulling her into a sense of safety that he would rip away for his own entertainment, amending it later with comfort only he provided, just to take that away too, in a vicious cycle over and over again.

"Perfectly, were just catching up" Cole smiled innocently at his husband.

"Here's the check," he placed a stack of papers on the table and picked them apart to show her. Emery was glad there was something to focus on "this is the private number of the lawyer I told you about, I talked to him earlier and he's willing to take over your case. Call him. These are some statements you might need, copies of our pet licenses," he flipped through the pages and pulled the last document from the bottom of the stack.

"And this one, is your intake form, signed by you and two others who were present as witnesses. Don't let it get into wrong hands" she stared at her own handwriting.

"Why are you giving this to me?" she looked up at the man confused.

"Well, owner's keep these of pets usually, given the circumstances I think it's for you to have"

In a twisted way that was the most reassuring sentence she has heard since her escape. No amount of progress she made with her therapist had brought this amount of relief. She hated that it was Luke granting it.

"Emery!" she jumped from her seat and turned around.

The pet stood dead in her tracks, just before they collided and looked over to her owner for permission. He just nodded with a fond smile.

Emery buried her face in the other woman's wild, blonde curls. She took in the familiar scent and finally let her tears roll.

Alyssa sobbed into the crook of her neck, she caressed the locks of hair that barely reached her shoulder, and let herself be lost in the familiar embrace of Emery's bony hands.

"I never thought I'd see you again"

"I'm so sorry. I should've brought you with"

"Okay, that's a step too far" Luke placed a hand on Aly's back, who immediately unfolded herself from the embrace and dropped to her knees. The man's hand slid up her spine while she did so and found it's way through her hair, gently massaging at her scalp.

Emery took an instinctive, horrified step back.

"I respect you, Em, but Alyssa's my property still. She never was and never will be going anywhere, right love?" Aly nodded.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that" she muttered, suddenly far too aware of the space she was taking up standing.

"Hm, sure you didn't" She would take Alyssa as far away from this place as possible if she could.

"Come on, Darling" Cole interrupted, still sitting at the table, clearly enjoying the scenario that unfolded "They haven't seen each other in so long, let them catch up"

Luke sighed, frustrated, he let go of Aly's hair.

"Fine, but the puppy stays on her knees, where she belongs"

"No, I can't-" I can't become one of you. I can't do that to her "I have to go" she needed to get out.

"Please!" Emery's protest was cut short and she made eye contact with Alyssa, pleading for her to stay just a little longer.

"I'm sorry, I can't-" she tried, but her determination crumbled as fast as it built up.

"I'd hate to keep you here against your will, but you don't look alright, stay for a coffee?" Emery scoffed, absolutely bewildered by the words that left the man's mouth. I'd hate to keep you here against your will. No you wouldn't, you'd enjoy it the most you monster.

"Sure" she locked eyes with Aly again, and attempted to smile at her. She sat down and the pet was quick to snuggle up to the side of her leg, resting her head against her knee.

They both flinched as Luke walked past them to the kitchen.

Her hand hovered over Aly's head tentatively. She never imagined to be put in that position, it was almost too much to handle.

The pet looked up at her, pleading, as if to say it's okay. Emery remembered far too well how much comfort it brought for her hair to be played with, to be given an ounce of comfort.

Alyssa's hair was thick and soft, she tried to avoid getting her hand pull at the tangles that formed no matter how many times she brushed them out.

"How do you take it? Milk and sugar right?" Luke asked from behind. She used to. Now she couldn't bare to look at any sweet beverage's.

"Black, please" she corrected and Luke hummed in acknowledgment.

"So, Em" Cole leaned forward in his seat, commanding her attention back to him "What have you been up to these past few years?"

"Therapy, mostly" she answered bitterly, no idea where the sudden courage possessed her from. Maybe it was soothing to have Alyssa curled up next to her. No, she couldn't think like that.

He laughed "And how's that working out for you?"

"Cole" Luke frowned, entering Emery's line of sight again, balancing three cups of coffee on a tray.

"Sorry" he replied, still smirking. Of course he wasn't sorry. Luke placed the cup in front of her.

"Thank you, S-" There it was again. Old habits die hard "Thanks"

They sipped their coffees in awkward silence, that only the soft clinks of the saucers broke.

"Can I ask Alyssa something?"

"You're welcome to" Luke shrugged.

"How have things been here? Since I- since..." she struggled to finish. Aly still looked up at Luke for approval before answering.

"Good" came the well-trained reply "I- it's just... I miss you. And I miss Lucky"

"Why, what happened to her?"

"Let's not bring Lucky up, it upsets Aly" Luke moderated. Alyssa nodded miserably "Tell her about your little playdates, puppy"

"Beau is here a lot" she took a deep breath to try and steady her voice. What the fuck happened to Lucky? "I'm really happy that Sir allows it"

"Beau is... hers?" Alyssa tensed up. Luke just nodded "I really have to go now" she stood up abruptly, pushing Alyssa away. She grabbed the papers and crumpled them into her bag as fast as it was possible.

None of them made a move to stop her, as she hurried towards the front door.

Luke stood up and followed her outside.

"Will you be alright driving home like this?" he asked cautiously. She couldn't speak, but nodded and sat in the driver's seat. "I'm sorry, about Aly bringing all that up..."

"It's not... It's fine. Not her fault" she shook her head. Bile rising up her throat as she thought about how the day would end for Alyssa for the infraction, unfortunately she had a solid idea.

She slammed the door in and started the car.

[predacon-carrion]

The sudden intimidation from Carrion’s move put her off a little. Only enough to have her near subconsciously sink deeper into the blankets and back toward the wall just a smidge.

“I think it’s the ‘getting eaten’ part that scares me the most. There’s so much that can go wrong… you have really sharp teeth. And I can hardly move on my own because of your tongue. It’s just instinctually scary.” She avoids eye contact, sheepishly looking to the side. “Your stomach… it can be nice. It’s warm, I don’t have to worry about anything in the outside world, the only sounds are from you, and sometimes it feels like a massage. At times it feels like a sensory break from everything else. But still, it’s terrifying to know I can’t do anything to defend myself in there. I mean, I generally don’t have many defenses against you, but in there I’m completely up to you or your body’s whims. I could be crushed, or drowned, or stuck in there forever if you ever decide to not let me out.”

She fidgets with the blankets a little while going over her fears. Really, she never expected to be telling him any of this. She didn’t think he cared for the longest time. It’s hard to look him in the eyes while saying it, especially because they’re so… much right now.

“I guess I’m still grappling with the fact that I, um, taste good. I don’t know how I feel about actually being food. Never really saw myself that way.” She tries to force a laugh, then takes a deep breath and continues. “I know I’m always in danger here, and when we first met I was… I was scared. Really scared. Now this is the only safe place. So it’s a choice between leaving the room and then dying to the rest of the cons, or staying and being a�� a…” she mumble-whispers the next part, “a glorified pet.”

Any semblance of a hesitant smile Carrion previously had vanishes the more you go on. Your words strike him deep— feeling completely hopeless, powerless against a force infinitely more powerful than you.

He knew that feeling. It was countless, countless vorns ago. But he knew it. It was what made him promise to himself to never be helpless again, made him into the ruthless mech he was today.

“Ruthless”. And yet, he watched over a handful of humans. Cared for them. Loved them.

He didn’t know he was capable of feeling love again until you all broke through to his cold spark, once consumed by nothing but apathy.

Yet, what was his way to repay these creatures who changed the very fiber of his being? Making them feel like nothing but “glorified pets”.

Helpless.

I am… sincerely sorry I have made you feel that way. He leans as far back from the desk as he can, straightening up his posture. I will not lie to you. Once, I saw you that way. All of you. If not as vermin, then obnoxious pets. But…

He pauses, looking to his lap. You all have… changed me. In ways I did not believe possible. And… to know that you still feel so helpless, not even around just me, but as long as you are aboard this very ship… I don’t wish for you to feel this way. Any of you.

He musters up the strength to look at you. Your demeanor pains him. That fact alone is proof of what you’ve done for him. I have said this before, and I shall offer it again. You do not have to stay. I can take all of you back down to earth, where you can return to your normal lives. You do not have to worry about if anyone will notice. I will handle everything.

He goes a little quieter, turning his helm back away. It is… something I have honestly been considering, especially after Knockout’s deal. But I know the doctor will look for you. So… I would leave you with the Autobots. They could take much better care of you than I. They will make absolutely sure that you are safe, they care very deeply for this planet and its humans. They will not make you feel like... like food, or pets.

Everything considered, I feel as though this may be the safest option you have. And now, taking what you have told me into consideration… I feel more convinced now than ever. So, if it is your wish, I can assure your safety immediately by taking you all to the Autobots. And the next time we see each other, if it all, it will be as enemies. If… if you consider me a friend now, that is.

[ciaossu-imagines]

Day Twooo: what is one of the stupidest things they ever did in their life. (Nothing super drastic like curring your fucking limbs off, more like accidentally microwaved metal and blew up the kitchen) I will let you deciee the fandom!

Okay, just because this ask was super interesting and because you gave me some fandom freedom, of course I had to find ways to work in each of my fandoms, so take this jumble of headcanons and hopefully you’ll enjoy them!

Tsuna, when he was a really young child, no more than four or five, ate a piece of the pink, fluffy insultation because he thought it was cotton candy. Nana almost had a heart attack when she figured out what was in his mouth and rushed him pretty quickly to a doctor.

Ren Gotou, as a child, really wanted to see if the whole ‘electrical appliance in the bathtub’ thing really worked the same way it did on television. So, he ran a bath, stuck a few of his action figures in there along with his second-favourite stuffed animal, plugged in a hair dryer, and tossed it into that bathtub, expecting to see bright flashes of electricity and smoking toys in the water. It was really anticlimactic though, thanks to the GFI switch attached to the hairdryer.

Uno says her name was Catherine…getting caught and arrested so many times is a close second though.

It’s not incredibly stupid like some of the other things, but Momonoki can get really absorbed in her thoughts and has a really bad habit of running into doors, far more often than she should…it’s kind of made a little worse by the fact that she instinctually apologizes for running into them every single time before she figures out that it was just a door.

Kenji tried to ride a pig once. There was another farmer in the village who was bragging about how big his prize hog had gotten and Kenji heard him say that it was almost as big as a horse. So, of course, Kenji figured that meant that the pig was rideable. Turns out, they are most definitely not and Kenji ended up with a lot of scrapes, a bad bite on his arm, and a broken leg.

Tsubaki has bought a snack from the convenience store and because he always takes the receipt but never actually has any use for them, he’s gone to throw out the receipt on the way past the front doors, where the garbage cans normally are, only to throw out his snack and keep the receipt in hand. It’s happened more than once is the really sad part.

Goku has tried to put out a candle by smothering it…with a tissue. Sanzo yelled at him for hours about how he was trying to burn the whole building down and kill them all and Goku isn’t allowed to light candles without supervision, even though that was a long time ago, in his defense.

Jumin, when he was younger and a little more vengeful about his father’s girlfriends, ended up cutting up some of his father’s new girlfriend’s clothes…and blaming it on a pet. A pet they did not have. A pet that could not have gotten into their penthouse without being caught. He’s always been a very, very bad liar, guys.

Fenrir’s parents have a pond in the back of their property. By their pond rests a little boathouse, low enough that, with the help of the tree nearby, it’s pretty easy to get on top of. It’s pretty easy to see where this is going. He and Ray climbed up to the top of the boathouse one day when they were barely teenagers and they seriously misjudged both the depth and distance into the water. There were some pretty serious injuries and both of them have interesting scars to prove just how stupid they used to be.

Unsui and Agon always tried to pull the twin switch when they were really, really young, probably until about second or third grade and always on Agon’s insistence. It would have worked well, except that Unsui always forgot that he was supposed to answer to Agon and would end up only answering to his own name, which got them busted pretty easily every time.

Darry and Soda, back before Pony was even born, used to have a lot of fun playing on a small hill a little way away from the house. They played all the usual games, and it became their spot. Anyway, they decided to highjack some junked tires one day so that they could try rolling down the hill in them, like they’d seen some other kids do. Anyway, long story short, the hill ended at the road and when Darry rolled down in the tire, it ended on the road. Wouldn’t have been so bad…if a car hadn’t been coming…and if Darry hadn’t ended up getting stuck in the tire so badly that he couldn’t wiggle out. If it wasn’t for Soda running and screaming into the road and the driver’s quick reflexes, the situation could have ended very badly. As it was, Soda struggled to get Darry and the tire off the road and had to end up running home to get his mother to come and get Darry out of the tire.

Kento once ate fake fruit thinking it was real. The worst thing – he finished it and just chalked the weird taste up to it being underripe.

Makio, as a kid, on a bet, stuck his hand into a fresh-of-the-stove bowl of soup just to prove that he could. He got a cool scar and ten dollars out of it…almost made the second degree burns worth it.

Ginji once not only blew the breaker in the Honky Tonk (the cost for a new one was added to their tab) but caused a blackout in the entire neighbourhood trying to convince Paul that he could generate enough power to cut drastically back on Paul’s electric bill – drastically enough that Paul should really cut their tab in half. Instead, it increased by about half.

Someone once asked Dmitri for the time. He was holding a hot cup of coffee. When he turned his wrist to check his watch (a watch he was not wearing because he doesn’t actually own a watch since he relies on his cell phone to tell him the time), he ended up dumping the hot coffee on the person who had stopped him.

Atlanta once, when she was about eight or nine, tried to bungee jump from a tree by tying one end of a bungee cord around a tree branch and one end around her ankles. She made sure to tie them really tight, of course, just to be safe. It just didn’t quite work out like she figured it would…that one hurt a lot.

Norman had a friend that Harry didn’t much like, but who would come to stay every couple weekends. She’d pinch Harry’s cheeks and make stupid comments and little Harry really, really didn’t want her over. So, one night, when she had taken her hearing aid out to clean it and then had to use the washroom, he seized his chance. He not only stole this poor woman’s hearing aid but stuck it in the toaster and turned the toaster on. Not only was the hearing aid destroyed, but the toaster ended up on fire. Needless to say, Norman was really, really angry with Harry and he found himself very grounded.

[alovelyburn]

Was Guts actually in love with Casca? I can’t recall him having any moment thinking of what he feels towards her in the golden age, just like he did so many times with Griffith. Do you think it could have been better if they never were a thing and just being friends by seeing how similar they are?

I watched the 1997 anime and read until the Lost Children arc, and hated everything surrounding Casca’s sa during the eclipse. Because she isn’t actually a character during a long time, her rape isn’t brought up in a way that isn’t because she was Guts’ “woman”. Guts doesn’t make any conciousness about how horrible it was for her, and even though he chose to stay with Gambino and Griffith when they were disabled, he didn’t wanted to when it was her and that’s sad

Oho!

Guts' feelings for Casca are an interesting topic to me - I feel like the mainstream english speaking fandom really heavily romanticizes the relationship whereas the GxG corner doesn't usually put much weight in it at all. As in most things I tend to fall in the middle somewhere.

Anyway I can only really give my opinion/perception of things, so here it is:

My read on Gutsca is and has always been.... that they were both fixated on Griffith but felt they couldn't really get as close to him as they wanted to and their pain and frustration over that led to them finally finding a way to relate to each other, which turned into friendship, which turned into attraction.

The thing is, though, even while that was going on they were still both primarily focused on their feelings for Griffith. In Casca's case this entailed just kind of aggressively ignoring it because she was deeply uncomfortable with the idea that she could have feelings for anyone but Griffith. In Guts' case, you may remember at the time he was actively trying to matchmaker Casca and Griffith into becoming a couple so I imagine he was trying to stay out of their way regardless of his feelings about either of them.

That said....

...I do think the feelings are definitely there. It's evident because when Judeau starts asking about them, Guts gets super awkward and sweat droppy...

And in the defensive way he reacts/the way he tries to deflect when asked why he doesn't try to get with her.

If you watch his reactions as Judeau is going over things, his demeanor on the subject of her changes completely as he starts tor realize that the future he was envisioning for her and Griffith - the one where they get together and live happily ever after - isn't ever going to happen.He kind of goes from being aggressively defensive to quietly reflective.

Plus the way he tries to dodge when asked if he's ever thought about being with her IMO indicates that he has, but probably only in a sort of half-formed way that he never thought that deeply into due to his assumptions about her and Griffith.

And of course in the end, even though he tried to deny it, he did ultimately admit it, and arrived at something more like "I'm not ready for that kind of thing" than "I don't want that kind of thing."

Casca's got her own issues which you didn't ask about so I'm not getting that far into it, rofl, but I will say I think this:

is the precise moment when she realized she can't do anything for Griffith. Because she tries to reach out to him and he doesn't even respond to her, like he doesn't even acknowledge that she’s there. And she pulls back like something burned her fingers before she starts wildly vacillating and then ultimately calls Guts' name.

And of course...

Whatever Guts was feeling about her, it was enough to make him hesitate when she called his name. It wasn’t enough to override his desire to chase Griffith’s friendship and respect, but it was enough to make him pause.

Now all that said, do I think Guts was actually full-chested in love with Casca?

No. I mean for one thing, Miura said they were forever stuck at the stage before falling in love, which implies they aren't actually actively in love - more that they perhaps could have been if the relationship had continued.

But even if you ignore the authorial intent aspect, their one "good" moment as a couple - the meadow scene - doesn't really showcase what I would call full-on in-loveness. Casca has to decide that her feelings are real and only decides to commit to it once Guts turns out to be needier than Griffith where she's concerned. and Guts' decision to ask her to go with him is kind of...

...random and spontaneous? What I mean is, he wasn't proposing to her - there was no “let’s start a new life together because I love you and we’re going to be together 5ever,” not even in his head. In fact, he said he wasn't sure if it would work out or if she'd end up getting in the way. But he was feeling it in the moment and he was willing to give it a shot. It reminds me a bit of Casca's line - I'll believe it, that my feelings for this man are real. It's an active decision on their parts to believe in that connection and its potential to grow and take root even though it's still just beginning at that moment.

And of course, if they were truly madly deeply in love then they wouldn't have started fracturing the second Griffith's shadow returned to their lives. In the end, I do think they were only able to develop the feelings they had for each other because they felt like Griffith was untouchable, and when he wasn't anymore, Casca started backpedaling and complaining to Guts about how jealous she was of Charlotte, and Guts was like, WELL I GUESS I'LL JUST LET HER GO BACK TO GRIFFITH IDEK WHO AM I TO JUDGE IM JUST AS BAD, and ultimately they both independently decided to stay with Griffith without bothering to ask how the other felt about it, or about giving up their plans. Guts wasn’t even upset about changing his mind, really.

...plus obviously when the Eclipse went down, Guts literally just ignored whatever was going on with her and the other Hawks so he could stand on the alter and try to chip Griffith out of the incubation egg. Even when he realized Griffith really did accept that deal...

He could barely make himself pull away.

After the Eclipse, every time he decides to go after her or protect her, it's catalyzed by remembering that he abandoned Griffith and feels like shit about it and/or pondering how his mistakes lost him everyone he loves, which frames it as being as much his regret and guilt as anything else (and Miura did say guilt is one of the primary things she makes him feel).  It also seems to be more about her representing the last of the Hawks than about his romantic feelings about her - to this day he barely thinks about the relationship itself. When he misses her he usually imagines her in her glory as the Band of the Hawks' unit commander. And in the more recent chapters, he infamously hasn't thought about her even once since [a thing] happened.

Err, so long ramble less long:

In the end, more than a romance in full bloom it is presented, I think, as the seed of a relationship that never had a chance to grow. I do think Guts loved her - as a friend, as a person, as a fellow Hawk - and I do think they had "feelings” for each other, but I do not think they were literally at the point of being in love. I also think it never would have come up if they didn't feel so separated from Griffith - it was his absence that created the space where their connection developed, and ultimately neither one's feelings for the other could really stand up in the face of their feelings for Griffith.

All that being the case, I would say the reason he doesn't go on about his feelings about her during the Golden Age (...or at any other point if we're being honest) the way he does about his feelings for Griffith kind of split down two paths.

First, his feelings for Griffith are just more intense and demanding - both the love and, eventually, the complicated stew of love and hate. Miura once said that Griffith is the one who gives Guts the sustenance he needs to live, and that's the way it's always been.

The other thing is, from a Doylist perspective, Miura himself did not appear to have much of a connection to the romance. He based Guts and Griffith's intense bond on his relationship with Koji Mori, his lifelong best friend. In a memorial manga by Mori's wife, she said that they were so close that it seemed that there was no room in their lives for anyone but each other. And he always said Berserk was about Guts and Griffith and their relationship at its core.

By contrast, Guts and Casca's relationship was a late-stage decision intended to up the stakes and increase the drama... and everything that's been done with her since has been consistent with that. Casca became something of a plot enabler - a McGuffin. She survived just as a means to motivate Guts, and lost her mind so that she wouldn’t take up too much room in the narrative, and while the friendship was pretty well-done, the romance itself has very little substance because it (and Casca herself once she becomes relegated to Love Interest) exists to catalyze whatever is going on between Guts and Griffith - to motivate them, to make them anxious and jealous, to make them angry at each other, to give them something to focus on besides each other, to use to hurt each other.

Also Miura did say that if he could, he wouldn’t have women in the series at all. So there you go.

As for whether it would have been better if they stayed friends... that's kind of a tough question because I have no idea what that would have looked like. I want to say I'm not sure how much it would have really changed - he's more motivated by his regrets over the Hawks than he is by the romance anyway, so I guess if she survived as his friend the story could have remained more or less the same. But... while that's theoretically true, I don’t think it would have remained the same. Because I think even though the romance isn't GUTS' primary motivation, it was probably MIURA'S primary reason for keeping her alive. And if she weren't alive then I have no idea what the past 20 volumes would even be about. So while I don't really have any interest in Gutsca, I'd be reluctant to say the romance shouldn't have happened, because there's not much about Berserk I'd change - some things, sure, but not enough for me to feel comfortable saying the past 20 volumes should be something else entirely. I do think Casca herself should have been better handled.

As for Guts leaving Casca, I mean that comes back to the Watsonian approach and the Doylist approach again.

From the Watsonian perspective it does strike me as internally consistent with the way Guts acts and how he would manage those specific situations. Gambino losing a leg or Griffith becoming mute and seriously disabled is kind of a different situation vs Casca losing her mind, because even if Gambino and Griffith weren't the same physically they were still the people he loved. Their bodies changed, but they themselves did not. Casca's entire personality - her memories, their connection - it's all just gone. I don't think he could handle that emotionally, nor did he have any idea what to do with it. When he finally did go back for her he ended up dragging her around on a rope; he was absolutely not equipped to manage her situation at all. I also think it makes sense because despite how he felt about Casca, he’s never prioritized her the way he did Griffith or Gambino. Those two are on a completely different level in his life vs. anyone else, even her.

From the Doylist perspective, though? I mean, Miura didn't even know she existed when he had Guts solo adventuring in the Black Swordsman arc, so I guess he had to retroactively explain why she never came up or appeared. There were a couple of ways he could have handled that - he could have had Guts drop into the cave like, yeah ITS BEEN A FEW WEEKS SINCE I SAW YOU GUYS, HOWS LIFE?

...but I think he decided to have Guts abandon her because it kind of fits into the larger theme of Guts treating the people he cares about the most sort of carelessly/letting them fall through his fingers and losing them as a result. The fact that she's the last thing he has - the only thing he hasn't lost yet - lends narrative weight to his decision to stand with her and advances his personal arc, while making his inability to truly commit to doing that - the way he vacillates and still thinks about ditching to go find Griffith - stand out, because even in the face of all those lessons and his own decisions he still can't quite let it go.

[originemesis]

@cast-you-dxwn xxx

It was no fault of his own that he'd been made into an image he would always fall short of. Mic could thunder on and on about the importance of trying to be better- as if the man hadn't already tried a timeless amount that only ever amounted to being told to do better next time. Once the threshold of effort had been cut off as far as his capabilities could stretch only for him to be expected to push even further, it was simply too easy to backslide into lower states that at least allowed him to climb upwards again. These of course were simple improvements he could attain such as one eighty-ing from calling his boss a petty bitch in the middle of a council meeting to begrudgingly babysitting a cherub charity bake sale booth outside the embassy ( until he eats most of the wares that is...not that Sera didn't take it out of his paycheck.) Now that he was lying all the way at the bottom of some hell pit? The possibility in rising even an inch would seem endless to those not currently half melted on the floor with one wing and plenty of missing pieces for finishing a common decency puzzle; unfortunately, he wasn't them.

"Yeah, don't I dare bring up a fucking point to the dude with the smite stick- solid advice, even for you." A softer hiss escapes him, both from the pain of divine sunburn and from having to hear Michael carry on like a woman scorned about what a treasure he was to humanity. In comparison to what? Adam knows. But whether Mic knows that he knows is debatable. "Not your duty, huh? Then what WAS it, Mic? The fact that it was your face tied to the spectacle your bro put on? Now that's what I call 'saving face'." Petty still, even prostrate. It didn't sit well with him to be accused of war crimes he hadn't actually committed (aside from the ones he had-) that simply stuck to him like he had because the reflection of them remained in a gaze of one who'd had them committed against him. That Epraim guy that Mic had gone turbo-termination on for the hushed rumor circulating in court over soldier abuse? Adam wonders if the bottom of his boots felt like Michael's now.

The word 'love' out of Michael's mouth draws a similar scowl from the man, if only because the other doubted his own validity in understanding the concept. Perhaps love changed forms when it was lost too many times...but it still had the same fucking name. He was still Adam, despite what a far cry the flawless form he once inhabited like a cocoon that was yet to know it could be shed. Shred apart, and leaving, as Michael so lovingly put it with a dash of disgust- 'this'.

"So much for those love is unconditional sermons, huh? Guess it stopped being so convenient for you." Formed fangs flash with rebuttal, his axe the only defense he could muster to his defense and even that he could not lift without the dire straights of his soul being threatened upon. Michael was a force to cower from- to plead with and hope the shape one took of something non threatening and stoic without its own free will might convince him to use the undesirable canvas for a purpose deemed necessary. But Adam never was quite good at dick riding past a lowered gaze and a muffled 'sorry', despite the title of Exorcist he shared with the others.

"You're freakin' impossible, you know that?! I'm not you, Mic- I can't just love out of some hard wired code sequence in my infrastructure! Not after Lucifer-" Did he even need to elaborate? They're all part of the petty origin club here, and the fact that Mic wouldn't understand that he didn't blindly trust without reason to makes him wonder the validity of the other's membership. "I have to look for it to know it's legit. Have to find it. And I found her. Not the mannequin of a soldier they saddled me with just because they needed a mansitter. Just her."

He listens wordlessly to the seraphim's description of a person he simply couldn't recognize by his purported memories of her alone. For him, she had never existed in the same sense were any pieces of that part of her still a part of her own glass puzzle pieces to arrange in ways that suited him and the council. Much like the version of him that Michael knew from the garden didn't really exist for her. In a way, he felt like he knew what they were regardless, having lost similar shards of his own he'd long since discarded knowing they didn't fit into the grand design of his ascension past where humanity had landed out of their tumble from creation's good graces.

"Mic-" He finally croaks, licking his lips to help soothe the seared skin there as if the putrid components of hell's influence over his own spit could serve as a balm against the scars of a smiting's pre-amble. It's not a chance he wants to take- being burned by that vicious gaze, so he keeps his rolled back and trained on a ceiling fan that had somehow survived the angelic assault, but had stopped spinning.

A minute passes. Several do before he musters, "You remember the time when-...you went looking for me- back in the garden, I mean. Probably 'cause you had some weirdly specific anecdote you thought would even make sense at the time. And I waited for you to walk by so I could smack you with that branch I' pulled back when you passed through, but it just snapped back and knocked me over?" A snort and a shake of the head at the muddled memory has him clapping a talon across his cheek as if he could still feel the sting of the branch's parting swat of leaves after the bark of its strong arm had bowled him over.

"And after your made sure I didn't know myself out- so I could hear it, you fucking laughed at me...and when I got the breath knocked out of me back, I-"

Shifting, he cuts his eyes to the side to chance a look at the seraphim, cautious...weary. Amused.

"-laughed harder? You remember that, right? You remember...me ?" Before he'd fallen out of that tree and had his being split into Eve. Before he'd watched his closest buddy run off with his wife and then return to harm the other half of him that still naively believed that everyone had good intentions. Before he was forced through the eye of the needle that was the gate of heaven for a sullied human soul, every bone broken and piece of him smuggled through one at a time for him to be discreetly arranged later and found lacking something, even if no one could tell him what it was without drawing suspicion.

"When I look at her, I see- something cracked. So cracked, it's impossible to tell what it even fully was before." Talons digging into the axe's handle, he struggles a moment to sit up and edge his back against the desk next to the seraphim, grimacing and using his wing as an extra appendage to push against the floor on the other side of him. "We got a lot of busted out pieces between the two of us, but...we fill in each other's blanks. Call me a glazer, but I can't remember the last time I felt so-" The faintest hint of a smile gathered beneath furrowed brows as the gnarled ends of his talons pinch at the diamond shard suspended within his chest portal.

They shared a piece of each other now.

"...whole."

[thelegendofhino]

While i do enjoy zelda games and zelda lore and whatnot i have only played 6 zelda games... i know there are a lot more than 6.

Obviously ive played breath of the wild and tears of the kingdom. I dont really know what made me want to play breath of the wild. It was very unlike other games id usually play. Especially since i tend to just play the same few games over and over again... but im glad i did, because i enjoyed it immensely, to the point where i played it twice, my first time being on the wiiu.

I think one of my earliest attempts of playing a zelda game that i can remember was wind waker on the gamecube. I never managed to beat it partly since the console was at my grandmothers house and partly because i got stuck at dragon roost island because something odd had happened with the collapsing stairs that i was unable to progress. I dont know if i had gotten actually softlocked or if it was just a skill issue on my part. I was kinda young at the time. I did end up playing and beating wind waker hd later on. Then i tried to play it again on the gamecube but for some reason i lost interest at the part where i had to find the iron boots to progress.

Ive played four swords adventure way too many times. More times than id care to admit. More times than i can count. For no reason other than it was the only zelda game we had for a while and i just loved playing the gamecube and it was not a very difficult game (there was one time when i was younger i did get stuck on one level for. Possibly hours, driving my parents insane because i just kept going back and forth trying to figure it out) and it was just a fun game. As much as ive played it i absolutely would not consider it my favorite zelda game. Its a fun game but its also boring at the same time. Probably just because ive already played it so many times.

Ive attempted minish cap twice and beat it once. My first attempt i couldnt figure out how to beat vaati, but in my defense, everything else in the game with singular eyes youre supposed to shoot them with arrows. So naturally i never once thought to swing my sword at vaati because he is just eyes. And eyes = arrows. And it just never occured to me to try and hit him normally until i replayed it earlier this year. Other than that, its a fun game, and i love how it looks.

I played links awakening dx. I dont remember much about that game actually. I enjoyed it. It looked cute. I had no means of playing the original. Thats all i have to say about it.

Now. Those are games that ive finished a playthrough of. Ive also attempted twilight princess. Unfortunately i attempted it right after having played botw for a while, so i had to get unused to being able to climb things. And... embarrassingly enough, i got stuck at the very first temple of the game where you get the boomerang. I just couldnt figure out where to go. And being very aware that this was so early in the game and i already got stuck did make me feel discouraged. Not that i thought the game was too hard, but that i shouldnt be struggling as much as i did... nobody was watching me play but i was still embarrassed anyway. So, perhaps in the future ill give it another shot.

Now i am playing ocarina of time and will hopefully play through majoras mask. I have a feeling i may not end up ever beating majoras mask, but... i will at least try.

[elizainjapan]

May 31st- Tokyo National Museum and Akihabara

Today was a bit stressful at first, but then it turned out to be one of my favorite days yet! Our first stop was in Ueno Park, which Sam and I had been to yesterday. We had a quiz this morning, but I didn’t know until I was out of the shower, so I had to skip breakfast to take it. Skipping breakfast automatically gets me stressed. At Ueno Park, we went to a shrine and the Tokyo National Museum. While the shrine was very interesting, I could tell I was getting burned out towards the end of the museum. In my defense, I started out very strong. I read all the paragraphs under each item, and I spent like 7 minutes per room. Once I was at room 6 or 7 though, I was tired. I walked most of the rest of the museum, and only read about the things that caught my eye. I promise I like museums usually, but I was still upset about not eating. After this, we walked over to a food market with a bunch of resturants to break for lunch. One hour was definitely not enough time to find a place to eat that everyone could agree on and eat. I was with a group of 7, and we just barely made it back to the meeting spot on time. One of the girls in my group didn’t calculate the price of her meal correctly, so we also had to take time figuring out. The restaurant we chose also gave us super small portion sizes, so what I thought would be a full meal was really only 4 gyozas. I was hangry and very anxious. On our way to the train station, I was walking with Brian towards the back of the group when his train ticket malfunctioned and he couldn’t go through. The rest of the group didn’t notice and boarded the train, so we were stranded. Thankfully Leina had noticed we were stuck so she stayed back to help us. My day got tremendously better when we got to Akihabara (excluding the time we looked at the basement doujinshi, that was disgusting). Since our planned day was over, a small group of us just decided to get lost in the city. We went through side alleys and maid cafes before finally finding the perfect place to spend the evening - an arcade. The one we picked was 9 floors, and it had so many reaction games. It was super cool watching the hardcore Japanese gamers play, especially the ones playing DDR. I had never played before, so Aulora and I tried a game on the basic level. We failed miserably. Our last stop in Akihabara was Mandarake. Here I got the 37th HxH volume (which hasn’t come out the the US yet) and a Doremon manga to practice my Japanese with. I had some enrichment time at the hotel before heading back out to get boba and dinner with Sam and Aulora. We sat in McDonalds for over an hour just talking. Today had a rough start, but everything ended up working out.

The art exhibit that I chose to explore today was the under wear warrior attire. Warriors wore many different outfits throughout the 17th century. For example: formal hitatare, semi-formal suo, and the newer kamishimo. Clothing for battle was made to be worn underneath armor or as an outer surcoat. Fire resistant suits or dig images in Tokyo because of how prominent and popular fires were in the area.

Academic Reflection:

While today’s readings on the psychopathy of otaku culture were super interesting, I also don’t really agree with them. While I was reading them, I was totally on board with most everything that the authors were saying. I thought it was super interesting to recognize the moe database in so many of my favorite showes and I liked how the comparison of Baudrillard’s definition of utopias worked with the anime simulacrum. All of these works of theory were very developed and educated, and I truly felt that the authors covered as much of the bases as they could. What I did not like was the doujinshi we were exposed to.

When talking about otaku culture, it is imperative to speak to the sexual side of it. To ignore the anime pornographic aspect would be moronic. Yet no reading could have prepared me for that basement. That was simply pedophilia. After seeing that store, I cannot bring myself to agree with any of the justifications of pornographic doujinshi in anime minors. Neither authors talked nearly enough about the true side of otaku culture - commercialized porn. It does not matter that it is a fictional character, because I guarantee that many otakus do not see them as fake. They can distinguish between reality and fiction, they just chose not to. It was crazy to see people casually shopping in the store, as if any of of the walls and walls of naked girls was the same as going to 7/11. The nonchalantness of the patrons was very disturbing. While I know that this is not the case for all otakus, I still feel justified to believe that my view of Japanese media changed drastically in minutes, and I do not believe that these simulacrums should be as normalized as they are. The stereotype that otakus are nerdy and creepy shut-ins are stereotypes for a reason.

[youremychaos]

I am here!!! Sorry, I’m late...I was enjoying a few hours of me time. Now that it is nearing midnight, the lils are rocked and I am able to read without anyone trying to sit in my lap or shove a toy in my face.

Again with the title...I had thought this was all Yoongi, but I’m thinking Namjoon is the one stuck in love. Let’s get into it and find out!

So, I read through the smut in one go and choose to hold my comments until he end...wow. Just wow. The sex alone, but itself would have been okay. It that aspect, Namjoon and Yoongi did everything right. Now where they fucked up is the moment Namjoon touched him so softly. Touching, tasting...that is where the line was blurred and shit got real. I feel torn about it because this to me counts as cheating. There were feelings involved, it wasn’t just two people fulfilling a business deal...they shared feelings and complicated things.

Namjoon biting Yoongi’s leg is gonna cause some issues. Not to mention, that Wheein and Jungkook could have heard them the whole time. But if Namjoon and Wheein haven’t been or are not involved romantically...does it really count as cheating? There were so many emotions and I just hope that Namjoon sticks around (fat chance) to talk it out.

(it is almost midnight and I am half asleep. I will continue to read the rest tomorrow so that my words make sense.)

Annnnd I’m back like I never left! It is 1:22pm and I will jump right back into this fic. Let’s get it!!

Namjoon you asshole! Okay, I get that he couldn’t stay...but damn. You could have at least woken Yoongi to make sure he was okay before you bounced.

Not the breakdown...poor Yoongi. That after sex come down is a bitch and with how high emotions were running, yeah I feel his pain. I do not have very high hopes for Namjoon and Yoongi at the moment.

The text messages are a shit attempt from Namjoon. If Yoongi is out of it, why would he ever be clear headed enough to read or respond to texts? I can understand a little as to why Namjoon might have decided to text Yoongi and not just show up. It was in cause Yoongi wanted space right? He still could have tried a little harder.

Namjoon, you were not invited to the bungalow...Yoongi asked for Jungkook. You want to talk, huh? Okay...that went just about how I expected it to. Namjoon and Wheein aren’t in love, if anything they were most likely friends with benefits that got stuck marrying each other. I get where Namjoon is coming from once again, however a divorce is much less a big deal than cheating with Yoongi. He getting defensive is stupid in my opinion ‘cause he has to try and see this from Yoongi’s pov.

At the end of the day if anything were to get leaked or found out, Yoongi would get shit on. The media would paint him in a bad light to save Namjoon and Wheein’s face...does he really not understand that?

Wheein isn’t too bad at this moment in the pool. Pretty low key and giving good vibes...until she looked at Namjoon. Something is up, I’m sure she knows Namjoon better than anyone right now. It does make me wonder if maybe she knew/knows about Namjoon’s feelings towards Yoongi and pushed him into picking Yoongi. Maybe she can use this as a get of jail free card, ya know?

He’s pregnant after one go?! I love that...but now I’m think is Wheein unable to have a child or did she just not want her body to suffer? With the baby being Yoongi’s will she want to be involved? Will she resent Yoongi and/or the child? Namjoon and Yoongi both confession...oh god why does it hurt?? Namjoon, my guy, imma need you to step up and control yourself. Yoongi is gonna be useless with his emotions all over the place.

I love it when I am right! It’s so freaking satisfying to know what I’m picking up what you’re putting down. They don’t sleep together! That’s a small win...but it can back fire if Wheein catches on to Namjoon staying with Yoongi.

Don’t worry about Jungkook...he has to be fucking Wheein. That’s the only thing I can think of. T-They aren’t mated?! That’s the biggest scandal ever! How are you married and unmated....yeah, at this point, Namjoon is up for grabs lol Not gonna lie, that was a hot lil quickie. I love with an alpha is so focused on their partner’s pleasure and forgets about themselves.

I want them together. I don’t care anymore. I know that it is soooo fucking wrong, but they are perfect for each other.

Okay, so I’m thinking that Wheein didn’t want to have a child herself because she didn’t want to be stuck with Namjoon more than she already is. Plus she doesn’t seem like the type to want to raise a child. So then maybe Namjoon is the one what wanted a child...and he was okay with sleeping with Yoongi because the baby would be by someone he cares for.

Oh shit...oh no. No, no, no...Namjoon what did you do?! This goes beyond cheating, like you can’t hide this. Oh fuck and it was going so well (for the most part)

Wheein when with Yoongi to the appointment, uggghhhhh!!! I know Yoongi’s ass is feeling all types of ways. If he doesn’t sign the contract, he could just walk away with the baby right? Namjoon would let him do that..I hope.

The conversation was great but why did it strike fear in my heart? Would Namjoon really kick Wheein to the curb for Yoongi? Would he give up his dream job? That’s a lot...

And now I understand what you meant by “happy ending”....well, okay. The word count limit robbed us of so much. There is so much that can be done with the story. A deep dive into Wheein and Namjoon’s relationship or lack there of. What’s up with Jungkook? The aftermath of the baby. Does Wheein confront them....so many unanswered questions 😔

Harrow. I don’t even know what to say, that ending got me. For you first ever a/b/o fic, again you should be really proud. You did the damn thang, like always and I am so freaking happy and proud. It was a wonderful story overall. The characters where evenly matched, the emotions were strong and you just did so well.

One Day at a Time 🌙 2: It feels right; I don't care if it's wrong

Yoongi loves to help others. As a professional surrogate, he takes pride in using his body to help families bring life into this world, and love into their homes. But when his high school crush Kim Namjoon hires Yoongi to help him and his wife conceive, things get…precarious.

Or, Omega Yoongi gets bred by Alpha Namjoon and holy shit, does he fall in love.

PREVIOUS | INDEX

🐺 Yoongi x Namjoon, established Namjoon x Wheein

🌙 word count: 19.3k

🌙 past acquaintances to lovers, a/b/o, mpreg, infidelity, angst, smut, eventual fluff, slash, nsfw, 21+

🌙 warnings: alpha/top namjoon, omega/bottom yoongi; namjoon is married, and he has a big dick; yoongi is a mess, and he cries a lot; a/b/o stuff (mating cycles, lots of scent stuff, wolf instincts, marking - there will be blood, omega slick), angst (hormones raging, pining, emotional infidelity, infidelity, hurt/comfort), smut (ritualistic sex, ass to mouth, anal sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, extremely painful knotting, pregnant sex, begging, praising, possessiveness), confessions, falling in love, “happy ending.”

🌙 note: you already know what is going on. warnings are serious hehehe. okay, have fun!!!

🌙 written for one shot two shot fest

🌙 thanks to @neoneunnajimin & @sailoryooons for beta reading and to @sweetestofchaos for helping me pick scents!

🌙 posted july 2023 | read on ao3

Yoongi is on the precipice of completely and total mental collapse.

Namjoon's words take a moment to sink, but Yoongi lies with his eyes wide, staring at the muscular shoulder of the alpha above him as he sniffs the air near Yoongi's head. 

I finally get to have you.

Yoongi's hands attempt to find purchase on the satin sheets, grabbing fistfuls while he squirms under the warm breath that wafts across his shoulder, neck, and throat, but the material slides and slips. 

"What did you say?" Yoongi mutters despite knowing he should probably leave it alone. But he is spiraling over the idea that Namjoon has wanted this as badly as he has, and he just…he needs to know. 

"You heard me, little omega," Namjoon grumbles as he sits up and shuffles around, walking on his knees down to Yoongi's legs, which are bent and half-spread and moving uselessly, uncontrollably. 

"Gods, look at you," Namjoon teases as he takes one of Yoongi's ankles and pulls it to the side, spreading his legs. Warmth radiates beneath his touch, and Yoongi lets out a shaky breath, doing his best to keep his cool. "When is the last time someone has touched you?"

With a huff of air, Yoongi squeezes his eyes closed and makes a futile attempt at centering himself. This whole situation was already a mind-fuck without Namjoon toying with him. He thinks he can hear Namjoon chuckling as he takes Yoongi's other ankle and spreads his legs further, but he does not open his eyes just yet. 

He knew they would have to have sex, but Namjoon is treating him like a conquest. Or is this how alphas always fuck? Rough and possessive, grabbing and spreading and teasing.

"Do I scare you, little omega?" Namjoon asks with a tone full of mirth as the mattress dips, and Yoongi feels Namjoon's arms beside his hips, beside his ribs, above his shoulders. 

Yoongi shakes his head as he opens his eyes, finding Namjoon hovering over him, inches from his face. He could tilt his head up and kiss him at this distance. 

"No," Yoongi says, voice shaking unconvincingly. "You don't scare me at all, I was just…not sure what to expect."

"Do you want me to be soft with you?" Namjoon asks, tilting his head to the side. "Make love to you?"

A laugh rocks through Yoongi, and he knits his brows. "What?"

"Because I don't think I can," Namjoon continues, warm, sticky-sweet breath ghosting over Yoongi's face. "Not while in my rut. Not when you smell the way you do. You have no idea how much I'm holding back right now."

Again, Namjoon sniffs at Yoongi's shoulder, keeping himself just far away that he does not make contact with his skin – not that he even has to; the feeling of his breath alone coming out in huffs and pants is enough to make Yoongi's head spin. Oh, but he wishes Namjoon would just brush his lips against his scent gland. 

Namjoon may have tauntingly asked when the last time he had been touched was, but Yoongi wonders the same. Rut or not, Namjoon seems desperate, like he is moments away from losing total control. Is this what rut is like, or is Namjoon just as touch-starved as he is?

"It's not that I expect you to be soft," Yoongi finally responds, finding his voice, and doing his best to at least return some of Namjoon's playful energy. "But you really do love to tease, don't you, alpha?"

Namjoon groans deep from his chest, and this time, when he takes in a deep breath, his lips skim over Yoongi's shoulder ever so slightly. The contact is barely there, but it is enough to send a shiver quaking from the base of Yoongi's spine to the tips of his toes. 

"I'll stop teasing you, then," Namjoon responds, voice breathy and deep, lust-laced the way it was in the woods. "I'll take what I came here for. Is that what you want, little omega? Want me to knot you nice and tight and fill you with my pups?"

Gods, the language is archaic and borderline humiliating, but it sends Yoongi reeling. He wants it so badly he worries he may lose his mind completely if Namjoon does not hurry and give it to him. 

"Please," Yoongi pants, letting his eyelids flutter closed. "Breed me, alpha."

Another groan comes from Namjoon, this one sounding even closer to a growl. "I want to touch you so badly," he mutters, possibly to himself.

"Just touch me," Yoongi responds, almost frantically. Perhaps it is against the rules; Namjoon is married, after all. But there was no clause in the contract – which they have neglected to sign – that prevents intimacy. They are having sex, for fuck's sake; and it is not as if Namjoon is going to kiss him. "We're already doing…this…so just touch me."

Namjoon begins to crawl down the length of Yoongi's body, slowly stalking backward while his lips ghost over his chest, his stomach, his hip. Every minute touch of skin against skin makes Yoongi jolt – sends an electric current through his bloodstream, white-hot and high frequency; buzzing, dizzying, and not quite enough. 

"Please don't rip those to shreds too," Yoongi teases as Namjoon's fingertips grab and lift the waistline of his briefs. He does not actually care if Namjoon destroys the garment, but suddenly his heart is pounding so hard and fast and loud, Yoongi worries he might throw up, and he is searching for some levity. 

Namjoon laughs, dragging his cheek along Yoongi's thigh and knee as he sits back, pulling Yoongi's briefs with the movement. Yoongi stares at the ceiling above. The thought of being nude makes him shy, even though he is in heat and is desperate to be fucked. Because it has been a while since Yoongi has let someone touch him like this, and he needs it. He craves it.

As his briefs are pulled away, Yoongi lifts his legs high. He feels impatient over the way Namjoon is undressing him so slowly, and by how the material drags and lifts higher and higher. Finally, when the garment passes his ankles and he is free, he begins to drop his legs, spreading his feet but holding his knees together.

Namjoon takes a loud, deep breath, and the sound makes Yoongi tear his gaze from the ceiling. When he looks at the alpha, he is sitting stiff with his nostrils flared and pupils blown, and he has that expression from before – the one that made Yoongi wonder if Namjoon would eat him. In his hand, beside his face, Namjoon grips tightly to Yoongi's briefs, breathing deeply through his nose. 

He looks crazed, almost otherworldly, like a demon has clawed into his skin and taken over. The air is pungent with tangerine laced with cinnamon and warm musk, and although the scent is familiar, it is also different. It is headier and tangier, and most of the sweetness is buried. It makes Yoongi sweat – makes him claw against the satin sheets feeling far needier than ever. He is certain that if Namjoon does not fuck him right now, he might actually die. 

Yoongi is acutely aware of the fact that his slick is dripping from him. Demureness slips away as he lifts his legs and gently uses his feet to tug at Namjoon, using his toes to dig gently into his ribs. Namjoon looks down at Yoongi, down between his legs, and his lips lift into a grin. 

"You're so—" Namjoon begins, shaking his head and cutting himself off. 

"Please," Yoongi whines, hole aching to be filled. Namjoon's scent is overwhelming, clawing at Yoongi's senses, ripping his sanity to shreds like the shirt that still uselessly clings to one of his shoulders. Never has he begged to be fucked before, but he cannot hold back. "Namjoon. Please."

Namjoon nods in dazed, slow movements. And then he flings Yoongi's briefs across the room and gets onto his hands and knees in a movement so quick, the mattress shakes, and Yoongi gasps. Namjoon leans close, rakes his teeth over Yoongi's thigh, eyelids fluttering closed, and he looks so feral and so fucking handsome, Yoongi cannot help but stare.

"Yoongi, you are so—" Again, Namjoon shakes his head and stops himself. He nips at Yoongi's thigh, sending a tickling mix of pleasure and a tiny hint of pain coursing through him, making Yoongi dig his heels into the mattress and whimper. "So fucking—"

"So, what?" Yoongi shouts, bowing his back, feeling the sheet stick to his skin, digging his head into the pillow. The desire that pours from him clings in the air and looms overhead like a cloud. Like a threat. Yoongi fears he will be suffocated at any moment if he is not sated. 

Rather than respond, Namjoon sinks lower, and, before Yoongi can make sense of his actions, Namjoon grabs and slightly lifts Yoongi's ass, spreading him with both hands as he licks over his hole, slow and firm and so good. 

Yoongi's hips buck upward as he moans, choking on the end of it and turning it into a sob as Namjoon licks again and again. Is this allowed? Should he be doing this? Yoongi is already soaking wet and does not need foreplay; why is Namjoon tasting him like this?

But Yoongi does not voice his questions; he would not dare. Namjoon swirls his tongue over Yoongi, groaning and growling, making every inch of his skin burn with arousal, and his cock aches to be touched, neglected, and leaking against his tummy. 

"Holy fuck," Yoongi finally whines when he cannot keep it in any longer, back arched with his toes digging into the mattress, attempting to keep himself lifted.

"I just knew you would taste this sweet," Namjoon grumbles, dragging his teeth once more over Yoongi's thigh while sitting up between his spread legs. 

Yoongi whimpers, fisting the sheet tightly, body heaving and trembling and desperate. "Please," he sobs, squeezing his eyes closed and opening them wide, staring at Namjoon's shoulders, at his pecs, at his tummy and his thighs, and his hard, leaking cock. 

Two fingers graze over Yoongi's hole, and he stutters a moan, keeping his jaw slack while Namjoon penetrates him so slowly it makes his eyes roll back. The stretch of his fingers floods Yoongi with arousal that burns hot in his tummy and spreads to his limbs. Yoongi opens his eyes to find Namjoon's mouth slowly falling open as he watches his own fingers get swallowed. Then he pulls out and looks Yoongi in the eye, mouth tugging to a droopy smile. 

"You are soaked for me, omega."

"All for you, alpha," Yoongi responds almost robotically. "Please."

Namjoon strokes his cock with the hand he used to finger Yoongi, spreading slick over his thick length. Admittedly, his size is intimidating, and Yoongi swallows thickly and wets his lips. He wants to taste Namjoon badly, but he needs to be fucked before he loses it.

"Namjoon," Yoongi pleads, dropping his ass back to the bed and digging his toes into Namjoon's hips, trying to pull him close. 

With a deep, sardonic chuckle, Namjoon grabs Yoongi's ankles, pulls his legs to one side, and yanks at his thighs and hips, forcing him to roll over. Yoongi flails and twists haphazardly, satin clinging to him and rustling with the movement. 

"On your knees, omega," Namjoon instructs. 

Yoongi manages to finally shed his tattered shirt, tossing it aside on the bed. And then he scrambles to get into position, crawling back to the center, where he was, knees digging into the damp sheet. He hardly has a chance to settle before Namjoon licks over his hole again, forcing him to tremble and moan, crashing forward. 

"F-fuck," Yoongi mutters as he wraps his arms around the pillow and holds it to his chest.

The touch leaves, and Yoongi clenches then tries to relax, feeling his slick build and secrete, smelling it thick in the air, mixing with the heady, sweaty blend of the two of them, along with the smoke from the incense. His own scent of chamomile is supposed to be soothing, but it is sweeter than usual and mocks him – a reminder of his place in life as an obedient little omega meant to be bred. And gods, does he need it so badly. 

The blunt tip of Namjoon's cock grazes over Yoongi's hole, and he arches his back in presentation. Namjoon uses a hand to grip and spread one of his cheeks, digging his fingers into the skin. It feels possessive and greedy, and Yoongi wonders if it will bruise – he hopes it will. 

"I don't know if you can take me, little omega," Namjoon says in a mocking tone, rubbing his cock over Yoongi's eager, slick hole. 

"Please," Yoongi responds. 

"You're so tight, even with how much slick you leak. Have you ever taken a knot before, hmm? I might just break you in fucking half."

Yoongi is dizzy and desperate; he thought Namjoon would want to tear into him and use him; fuck him hard and fast, and be done. What the fuck is with all this teasing?

"Namjoon, please!" Yoongi shouts, quaking and on the brink of madness. 

"So needy," Namjoon taunts as the mattress dips under his shifting weight.

Yoongi groans and begins to say, "Oh, I fucking hate y—" but he loses the rest of the sentence and chokes out a sob as the tip of Namjoon's cock breaches his hole.

Namjoon continues to push deeper, deeper, deeper, blinding Yoongi with intense pleasure-pain that he was not prepared for, squeezing the air from his lungs and making his legs tremble. 

"What was that, omega?" 

"Oh, gods," Yoongi gasps before biting down on the pillow and letting out a whimper that is pitchy and broken – pornographic. 

Namjoon carves Yoongi open, pushing him beyond what he thought his limits were. He feels so full, and his head aches from holding his breath. Finally, when Namjoon's hips still, Yoongi sucks a sharp intake of air and sinks his head down into the pillow, doing his best to relax. 

"I bet your pretty little cunt has never been stretched this wide before has it?"

The words pretty and cunt ricochet around Yoongi's already fucked out mind, and he manages to get some weight onto his elbows and lift his head, breathing in the air that reeks of burning incense and pheromones. 

"I am going to fucking ruin you, omega."

"I'm going insane," Yoongi mutters, panting with each breath that falls between his lips. "You're making me go insane."

Namjoon rubs his hands over Yoongi's back and shoulders. The sweaty slide of skin against skin is exquisite, and Yoongi tips his head back and arches his spine, desperate to be felt everywhere. Although he does his best to relax, he can feel the rings of muscle gripping Namjoon tight and fluttering with each sensation. 

"Can you sit high on your knees for me?" Namjoon coaxes as his hands wrap around Yoongi's ribs and gently begin to tug.

"M-maybe."

Yoongi shifts on his knees, pushing his arms as tall as they can manage, and then Namjoon takes over, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's chest, grazing palms over his nipples and clavicle, and pulling him until he is sitting high on his knees, speared open, making Yoongi shiver and moan from every tiny, delicious movement. 

A low, deep growl comes from Namjoon, who slides one hand up to Yoongi's throat, forcing his head to tilt back. 

"Somehow you feel even better like this," Namjoon murmurs softly, slowly pulling his hips back and kicking up a flurry of pleasure and arousal in Yoongi's tummy. 

Yoongi moans unabashed as his head attempts to roll, held in place by the fingers that gently squeeze at the sides of his throat. The slow drag of Namjoon's cock already has him threatening to unravel completely. 

Namjoon thrusts his hips forward just hard enough to punch the air from Yoongi's lungs, and he grips onto his own thighs as he attempts to breathe through the feeling, voice coming out as nothing but a wet sob. 

"Don't hold back, little omega," Namjoon groans as he pulls his hips back and drives them forward, making Yoongi bleat a jumble of vowels. "I want to hear you."

Everything about this feels wrong to Yoongi. He should lay pliant and let Namjoon do what he needs to without giving into his urges to touch and beg and make all the lewd sounds he usually does. But Namjoon feels and smells so inviting – so dizzyingly good.

"Please, alpha," Yoongi whimpers, legs quaking as Namjoon slowly pulls back. "Please breed me."

Namjoon grips Yoongi's tummy, fingertips digging into his skin. "Say my name," he commands.

Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "N-Namjoon…please."

Namjoon snaps his hips forward, pushing a pitchy moan from Yoongi's throat, then he begins to fuck him, finally, setting a rough pace of skin slapping against skin. From this angle, it feels like Namjoon is all the way in Yoongi's guts, and his body is frozen in place, unable to do anything but sit tall and be used. 

The pleasure-pain of being fucked so hard makes Yoongi delirious. He babbles incoherently, eyes fluttering closed and then opening wide, watching as the knots and lines on the wooden wall blur and come into sharp focus, over and over. 

"S-so…b-big…" he manages to stammer between thrusts. 

Namjoon's fingers tighten and loosen over Yoongi's throat and stomach, then yank him back a little further, causing his arms to hang suspended in the air, fingertips no longer able to reach his thighs. Lips pass over Yoongi's neck, over the scent gland in the crook of his shoulder, and he shivers from the touch, feeling euphoria burst and bloom on the spot. 

"You take me so well, pretty Yoongi," Namjoon moans before dragging his tongue over Yoongi's gland and the overgrown hair that sticks to his sweat-slick skin. 

Yoongi whispers, "Pretty," unsure if he is imagining the word. 

"So perfect for me."

Pleasure claws at Yoongi, dragging him down, down, down, threatening to drown him. He wants to cum so badly, but it feels too soon. Should he be getting so much pleasure from this? The lines have long since blurred, and Namjoon praising Yoongi and calling him pretty only amplifies the tumultuous nature of this situation. 

With another lick over Yoongi's scent gland, he begins to crumble. 

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that," he manages to whimper, squeezing his eyes closed. 

"That so?" Namjoon asks, lips grazing over the gland with a snarl.

"Yes," he gasps. 

Namjoon's voice is low and taunting as he asks, "Can you cum untouched?" 

With a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper, Yoongi asks, "You're evil aren't you?" earning him a chuckle in response. 

Namjoon picks up the pace fucking Yoongi harder, spearing him deeper. Yoongi is in agony over how good it feels; he is so close but not close enough. 

Teeth drag over his scent gland and, as if every one of his feral instincts is awakened and on high alert, rippling through him, the dam breaks, and he cums untouched, making a fucking mess. The pace of Namjoon's hips has Yoongi's cock slapping against his tummy, and he sprays his release against himself and the sheet below as he growls and whimpers and claws at the air, frantic and out of his mind.

"Fucking squeezing me," Namjoon moans against his neck, hips stuttering before they find their rhythm again. 

Overstimulation has Yoongi's body tensing and relaxing, and he sobs, unsure whether he needs Namjoon to stop or to keep going. It feels incredible in the worst way; horrifyingly too much and too little. His body quakes as each muscle fights to relax. 

Namjoon slows his hips and pulls out, then gradually lowers Yoongi to the bed, onto his side pulling the sheet while muttering, "Don't lay in your own mess, pretty omega."

"S-shut up," Yoongi grumbles as he sinks onto his elbows, then rolls onto his back with his legs bent and sliding spread. 

Namjoon crawls on his knees to Yoongi's feet and yanks one leg to the side as he takes his place, towering above him. His hair sticks to his forehead, sweat drips down his neck and chest, and he is dangerously beautiful with cheeks flushed and eyes wide – exactly as Yoongi imagined he would look, but so much more.

Without a word, Namjoon lines his cock up and slides back in. No sound passes through Yoongi's mouth as his back bows, and he grabs for the sheet frozen in an arch of pleasure. When he finally finds his voice, it is raspy and broken. 

"How do you stay so fucking tight?" Namjoon groans, head tipped as he pulls his hips back and slams them forward. 

Yoongi claws at the sheets, hand falling into a sticky, cold spattering of cum, which he tries to rub away but just finds more of his own mess, coating his hand. Namjoon sets a pace somehow faster than before, holding Yoongi's thighs in both hands, spreading him wide. 

Still somewhat overstimulated but already chasing his next high, Yoongi feels delirious. As he adjusts to the feeling of Namjoon's unrelenting thrusts, he reaches his hands over his head, draping them over the pillow while his eyes flutter. 

Then his fingers brush over something firm and possibly leather, and he becomes curious, grabbing for the item and pulling it out. Namjoon's hips slow even more as Yoongi inspects it. It is brown, definitely leather, and less than a foot long, Yoongi estimates, and it looks like a strap or a handle. Squeezing it, it feels somewhat soft, but also firm.

"What is this?" Yoongi asks, voice rough and fucked out.

When he looks at Namjoon, whose hips continue to roll into him, he finds the alpha regarding him with a worried expression – brows knit and gaze somewhat piercing. He lowers Yoongi's legs, takes the leather item, and places it on the bed. Then he leans forward, caging Yoongi in with his hands, and hovering way too close to his face.

"It's for biting onto," Namjoon says, voice breathy and deep.

Yoongi cocks his head, confused. "For biting onto?"

"So I was right?" Namjoon asks, brow knitting with concern.

Yoongi turns his face away, staring at the wooden wall to the right of him. "About what?"

Soothing, sweet tangerine overwhelms the space, blending with the incense and all the musky, heady aromas, and Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath that falls between his lips in a broken sigh. The fluid motion of Namjoon's hips and slow drag of his cock have Yoongi sinking into a trance. 

Like this, it is easy for Yoongi to imagine the alpha caring for him – being soft and gentle with him. Like this, Yoongi can forget all about how Namjoon has a wife waiting for him; how he is nothing more than a means to an end. He wishes Namjoon would hurry up and finish fucking him; he hates how treacherous his heart is suddenly, now that the pace is languid and gentle.

When Namjoon does not answer him, Yoongi opens his eyes. The alpha is watching him with a gently furrowed brow, making his tummy do a backflip, and he looks away as quickly as he can.

"What?" he asks, feeling awkward.

Namjoon's hips slow to a stop, and he sits up, still buried so deep inside Yoongi that every movement is overwhelming, making him wince and gasp. With his teeth grit and nostrils flared, Namjoon lifts Yoongi's legs again, looking above him at the wall rather than directly at him. 

"You haven't taken a knot before," Namjoon says. "You should have told me."

"It's fine," Yoongi mutters, feeling ashamed although unsure why. "Don't worry about it."

Namjoon grunts and then begins to fuck into Yoongi once more, holding his thighs spread and lifted, spearing him open. All thought dissipates as pleasure ensnares him, and when Namjoon presses forward against his thigh to spread and lift him even more, Yoongi relaxes into the stretch, malleable and pliant and so, so good for his alpha. 

Not your alpha, his brain reminds him, but he shuts it out and allows the euphoria of Namjoon's thick cock to trick him into thinking he could be.

Yoongi's moans are softer – stuck in his throat and punctuated by the loud slap of skin against skin. His muscles burn where Namjoon bends him and presses down, and his tummy feels tight and heavy, like a taut wire ready to snap. 

"Getting close," Namjoon mutters, picking up his pace and lifting Yoongi's right leg over his shoulder, sinking impossibly deeper. 

Yoongi's ass is lifted, and he digs his head back against the pillow, feeling as though his soul may be escaping from his body. He feels used in the best possible way; nothing more than a breedable little fuck-doll who has no control. 

As Namjoon reaches his high, his hips become erratic, and he growls and moans, uttering sounds that may be curse words, but could also be nothing. Yoongi wants to cum again, and the slap of his cock against his tummy is just enough to bring him close but not push him over the edge. He thinks maybe he should not chase another orgasm; continually playing tug-of-war over whether he should be feeling so much pleasure from what is meant only to be a business agreement. 

Namjoon's grip is painfully strong, fingernails digging into Yoongi's thigh and hip as he drives himself so fast and deep into Yoongi that pain is at the forefront of every sense. His cock aches against his tummy, and as Namjoon leans forward and bends Yoongi further in half, he is overcome with a feeling of fear. What if Namjoon really could break him in half?

"Fuck, Namjoon," Yoongi mutters, once again clawing at the sheets. Yoongi is sore where Namjoon's thighs slap into him, sore where he is gripped and bent, and sore from Namjoon's cock punishing his tight, greedy hole. He tries to plead but only mutters a weak, "H-hurts."

Namjoon wraps his arm around Yoongi's thigh to keep his leg draped over his shoulder and reaches for his cock, engulfing it in blinding warmth that kicks up so much pleasure, Yoongi fears he might fucking die – like his heart could give out and stop. He only manages to scream, "Oh, f-fuck, I'm—" before spraying his release on his tummy. 

The pleasure is so searing and intense, Yoongi squeezes his eyes closed tight, and he screams incoherent half-profanities while his body quakes.

"That's it, omega," Namjoon growls. "I'm gonna cum, fuck, don't stop squeezing me."

Yoongi couldn't stop if he tried. His body is suspended in a grip of euphoria laced with pain so unlike anything he has felt before – body twisted and lifted and used. He babbles through the dizzying high that threatens to light him aflame and turn him into nothing more than a pile of ash, squeezing around Namjoon uncontrollably.

"Brace yourself, omega," Namjoon grunts between thrusts. "I'm gonna cum."

Namjoon's hips still as he moans deep and loud, head thrown back and body practically convulsing. Yoongi feels him twitching inside him, then feels him release, filling him with hot spurts of cum. And then, finally, he feels Namjoon begin to expand. 

With his leg slung over Namjoon's shoulder, the discomfort of the growing knot makes his muscles tremble and cramp. Namjoon's head is still thrown back, and he is groaning and whimpering as if locked into a state of bliss. Yoongi, on the other hand, is slowly being stretched enough that the pain feels similar to giving birth, and before he can stop himself, a scream rips from his lungs. 

Frantically, he reaches for a pillow – anything to bite onto – and he winds up taking the one out from under his head and pulling it over his face. Condensation builds instantly against the soft material as Yoongi screams bloody murder while hugging the pillow tight against him, still hanging suspended by threads of pleasure despite experiencing physical anguish so visceral it feels nearly incomprehensible. 

Sharp, piercing pain in his thigh makes Yoongi's entire body seize, and he pulls the pillow away, attempting to kick from the source of the feeling, only to find that the source is the alpha's mouth. Namjoon's eyes are wide and crazed, and his teeth are sunken into Yoongi's flesh as he growls with a mouthful of skin. Yoongi is absolutely terrified, chest feeling too tight to intake more air. 

"Namjoon!" Yoongi screams, lifting his other foot and kicking at the alpha's shoulder. "Stop!"

Namjoon releases Yoongi and stares at his leg as if in a trance. And then his gaze snaps to Yoongi, and he looks afraid, ashamed, and possibly sad. Yoongi sobs as Namjoon continues to grow inside him, and when Namjoon allows Yoongi to drop his foot to the bed, he begins to kick and drag his feet uselessly, thrashing in pain and horror. 

"Fuck," Namjoon mutters, leaning forward and grabbing the leather strap that Yoongi found earlier. He uses his hands to attempt to hold Yoongi's head steady, but although his eyes are soft and present once more, Yoongi is scared shitless and in immense pain, and he tries pushing Namjoon away. 

"Shhh, wait, Yoongi," Namjoon utters sweetly, filling the room with tangerine so thick Yoongi can taste it on his tongue. He holds the leather device in front of Yoongi's mouth and says, "Yoongi, here, bite onto this."

Reluctantly, Yoongi opens his mouth and lets Namjoon slide the strap inside, nestled between his teeth. It feels cool and soft on his lips, and as soon as he bites down, he feels somewhat calm. He also thinks Namjoon's knot may have finally reached its fullness. 

"Yoongi, I'm so sorry," Namjoon mutters, petting over his sweaty face and hair with both hands and leaning way too fucking close. "I lost control; I shouldn't have bitten you."

The pain is present but dissipating to a dull ache, and Yoongi huffs each breath through his nose, drooling around the leather strap. Namjoon's pheromones truly do work wonders, bringing his anxiety down enough that he can emit chamomile and ease himself further into nirvana. 

"Are you okay?" Namjoon asks, brows pinched, hands still gently raking over Yoongi's sweat-matted hair. 

Yoongi mutters uselessly and nods, eyelids feeling heavy; body completely wrecked. Now that the intensity is gone, Yoongi just feels full, sticky, and sated. He lets his eyes flutter closed as he sinks deeper into the bedding, shivering as his sweat-slicked skin cools. 

Gently, Namjoon begins to maneuver Yoongi onto his side, and Yoongi does his best to comply, aided by the lubrication of his slick and Namjoon's leaking cum to allow the alpha to wiggle around until he is lying behind Yoongi, pulling him close, knot nestled deep.

"We're gonna be here a while," Namjoon mutters close to Yoongi's ear, ghosting warm breath over his neck. "Relax, alright?"

Yoongi yawns, dropping the leather strap from his mouth. He curls slightly in on himself and shivers while Namjoon grabs the fur blanket and wraps it over them. Drool coats his chin, but he does not have the energy to wipe it away.

Had he known all of this would have been so painful and so intimate, Yoongi may have backed out. But he is here now, connected to the alpha in a way he has never felt before, and he allows himself to imagine a life like this – wrapped in Namjoon's warm embrace and loved by the man in a way he could never hope for. 

As Yoongi drifts to sleep, he feels Namjoon's large, warm hands rubbing over his hip and arm. He even imagines the alpha leaving soft kisses along his shoulder, neck, and spine. 

Oh, the imagination can be so cruel, he thinks, just as he drifts off.

Yoongi wakes up naked and alone. 

Although he should not be surprised to find himself in the dark, quiet bungalow all by himself, disappointment hits him in a wave, dragging him into its undertow.

Of course, Namjoon would leave, Yoongi tells himself. Why wouldn't he?

The incense have all burnt out, and the candles seem to have been snuffed. Although the other ritualistic items remain scattered around, there is also a tray of fruit and snacks, and a large glass of water. It seems Jeongguk has stopped by to at least bring him refreshments, but he did not bother to take anything away. Perhaps the items need to stay throughout the pregnancy, Yoongi wonders. In order to appease the gods, or…whatever. Yoongi is unsure.

Yoongi rolls into a seated position, feeling an ache in his limbs and deep in his ass, and he winces and groans as he gets onto his knees on the floor and hobbles over to the low table. He picks up a slice of watermelon and holds it suspended in air as his mind flashes back to earlier, replaying segments over and over like a broken record. 

Namjoon calling Yoongi pretty, telling him how good he feels. Namjoon losing control and biting him. A shiver runs up Yoongi's spine, and he blinks away the thoughts as best as he can. He tells himself that it was just alpha rut madness that drove Namjoon to say and do things he otherwise would not. The last thing Yoongi needs is to imagine Namjoon really does have feelings for him. 

Yoongi feels exhausted, and lonelier than usual. In the past, whenever he would return from the doctor with the in vitro process complete, he would be medicated and sleepy, but blissful in his loneliness, happy to allow his body to rest and grow a tiny human. But this time, the whole situation feels so personal that Yoongi wants comfort. He wants it so badly, sadness wells in his chest, forcing his exhale to come out shattered. 

Yoongi attempts to swallow back the urge to cry, but all at once, the emotions hit like a tsunami, and tears well up and break over in an instant. He sets the piece of watermelon down and hangs his head, anchoring his elbows into the hard wooden table and sobbing with his palms pressed against his eyelids. 

All he wants is for Namjoon to return. He wants to be wrapped in the fur blanket and cuddled back to sleep, feeling the soft traces of fingertips and lips against his skin. But Namjoon will not come back, because Namjoon is not his. 

The hot flashes and bouts of dizziness that come and go for the next several days keep Yoongi bedridden and frantic. Each time Jeongguk comes with food, Yoongi practically begs him to climb into bed and hold him. He can tell Jeongguk is concerned for his health, but he does not ask if there is more that Yoongi might need. And, truth be told, Yoongi would likely catch a whiff of Jeongguk's non-tangerine, non-cinnamon scent and turn the man away. 

Instead, Yoongi buries himself in the satin sheet that reeks of days-old body fluids and hugs the fur close, desperately sniffing for traces of the alpha. He avoids his phone, he does not go for any swims – teetering between madness and sanity while waking up to find the sun has risen or fallen again, unsure how much time has passed.

And then, one day, Yoongi wakes up feeling fine. Not great, but fine. He feels sticky from sweat but is not running hot, and the dizziness seems to have subsided enough that when he gets out of bed, he is able to stand. He feels wobbly from lack of proper eating, but he manages to go to the bathroom and return on steady enough feet. 

Candles, incense, stones, wreaths, and statues litter the space, and Yoongi finds that he likes them. He rubs his fingers over pink and dark green crystals, scraping his nails along sharper edges. And he picks up each candle to smell them, finding some of the gentle floral aromas familiar from that night.

That night.

Yoongi takes a fortifying breath and grabs his phone from the table, which has a nearly dead battery. As soon as he turns on the screen, he finds a message from Jeongguk sent a day ago—

Jeongguk The worst of the heat should be over soon. I have been bringing water and checking on you, but you have been sleeping a lot. Let me know when you would like me to bring you a meal, or if you need anything else. 

—and several messages from Namjoon. 

To Yoongi's surprise, only three days have passed since he and Namjoon performed their tempestuous little ritual. He has no idea how long they were fucking for, nor how long he was asleep after, but it seems Namjoon sent the first message late that evening. 

Namjoon Please let Jeongguk or me know if you need anything. 

Yoongi rolls his eyes, muttering, "Asshole," under his breath. What he needs is for Namjoon to comfort him. But, of course, that is out of the question. 

The rest of his messages had come in the following day, and Yoongi really does not know what to make of them. The first one was sent in the early evening—

Namjoon How are you feeling? Let me know when you wake up. 

—followed by a second, sent ten minutes later—

Namjoon I would also like to apologize again, for what happened. 

—followed by one sent about twenty minutes later—

Namjoon In fact, maybe we should sit down and have a conversation once you're feeling better. 

The last one was sent several hours later, in the middle of the night. 

Namjoon Jeongguk says you've been awake, but pretty out of it from the heat. I could visit if you think it could help. Let me know. 

Namjoon offering to help Yoongi in the middle of the night makes him feel both excited and annoyed. Does Namjoon think that just because the two of them fucked, Yoongi needs him? He does – of course, he does – but Namjoon does not have to know that. And frankly, if he really wanted to be useful, he could have just shown up. It is not like the bungalow has been locked, and even if Jeongguk had been locking it while Yoongi has been in and out of consciousness, he has a key. 

It feels like an empty gesture more than anything. Or a weak man trying to sneak around in the middle of the night because feels indebted to the surrogate who he enjoyed fucking just a little too much. 

Yoongi huffs out a scoff and ignores the messages from Namjoon, and instead texts Jeongguk to let him know that he is awake and would like a proper meal and a change of sheets; that he'll be in the shower and Jeongguk should feel free to come right in. It is just after 6 PM, which means he has already cooked dinner and likely served the couple, so bringing him a plate should not take too long. 

With that settled, Yoongi tosses his phone to the bed. He eats several pieces of pear, drinks some water, then he peels himself up onto his feet to go into the bathroom.

This shower is just like the one inside the hanok, but it takes some adjusting to find a temperature he agrees with. Despite feeling like the worst of his heat is over, everything is simultaneously too hot and too cold on his skin, and he settles on something ever so slightly too cold and gets in. The water is instantly soothing, and Yoongi groans as it gently beats down on his shoulders and back. 

He stands still a little while, just letting the water pour down on him with his eyes closed. Although his treacherous little mind conjures image after image of Namjoon from that night, he somehow manages to feel a little relaxed. He even holds back a snarl when he pumps tangerine-scented shampoo onto his hand and lathers his hair with it. 

The mood swings are still rampant, and Yoongi at least has the wherewithal to recognize it. He knows that hating Namjoon and wanting Namjoon are both equally irrational and that there is likely a third other option right in the center of the two that he will settle on as soon as his hormones have evened out just a little. That is, unless the pregnancy hormones make him just as unreasonable. 

He rinses, conditions, and rinses again, telling himself that eventually he and Namjoon will need to have a conversation, and that perhaps he should be upfront about possibly needing him around. The least he can do is advocate for himself. 

As Yoongi slathers chamomile body wash on his skin, he hears movement out in the bungalow. He had left the bathroom door open a crack so that he would hear Jeongguk's arrival, and thinks he can make out the sounds of a tray being set down on the table and the bedding being changed. Then he hears the door open and close again, and before he can question whether Jeongguk has left, warm musk and tangy tangerine seep in through the air, greeting all of his senses and making his body run hot.

"Is he in here?" Yoongi hears Namjoon ask, and he snickers to himself; how could the alpha be so unobservant?

"In the shower," Jeongguk responds. 

"You should let me change those sheets," Namjoon says, and his voice sounds closer to the bathroom.

Yoongi thinks he hears Jeongguk mutter, "I got it," but he is not too sure. 

Seconds pass with Yoongi just standing under the warm stream of water, holding his soap-sudded rag in his hand while listening. When Namjoon knocks on the bathroom door, it startles him, making him tense up and gasp.

"Yoongi?" Namjoon calls softly.

Yoongi responds with a, "Hmm?"

More seconds pass, and the scent of musk is much stronger, accented faintly with cinnamon. Then, Namjoon asks, "Do you mind if we talk once you're done?"

Yoongi is not sure he wants to talk to Namjoon at the moment, but if the man is here, he may as well at least hear him out while he eats. It is not as if Namjoon doesn't know he needs to eat; he is certain that Jeongguk brought him a tray of food, and Namjoon has to have seen it. 

"Sure," Yoongi responds, finally moving his limbs to finish washing up. 

"Alright," Namjoon says. "I'll close the door to give you privacy."

Yoongi scoffs and mutters, "Okay," to himself while the door is gently closed. Sure, it is kind of Namjoon to give him privacy, but it is not like there is any part of him the man has not seen. And Yoongi had not brought a change of clothing into the bathroom with him, so he is going to wind up returning to the room in a towel, anyway. 

Voices chatter on the other side of the wall, and although Yoongi is curious, he takes his time rinsing. Then he shuts off the water, reaches past the curtain for a towel, and begins to dry. The door of the bungalow closes, and Yoongi squeezes his hair with the towel, then he wraps it around his hips. He brushes his teeth despite planning to eat right away, because he has no idea when he did so last, and applies some moisturizer to his face. 

He is not sure what he expects to see when he exits the bathroom, but he is somewhat surprised to find Namjoon wearing a black tee and black joggers rather than his standard white and grey office attire. He sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at his phone, and when Yoongi steps out of the fog-filled bathroom, he glances up, eyes widening and cheeks blushing before he averts his gaze. 

Yoongi cannot quite identify his myriad feelings, but pride definitely floats around in his tummy, and he bites back a smile while approaching the wooden dresser, eyes ahead as he passes Namjoon. 

"Sorry for intruding," Namjoon somewhat mutters, and Yoongi glances over his shoulder to find the alpha's shoulders curled slightly forward while he looks down at his empty hands. "You weren't responding to my messages, and I wanted to check on you."

"It's fine," Yoongi says, pulling out a pair of black briefs and soft light blue pajama pants. He has half a mind to stay shirtless just to see if he can get a rise from the alpha, but grabs a plain white tee and begins sliding his arms into it, instead. 

He steps into the black briefs while keeping the towel around his waist, but when the action of pulling the garment to his hips causes the towel to come loose, he allows it to drop to the floor. The heady musk that fills the room is almost instantaneous, and Yoongi bites his bottom lip in an attempt to keep from grinning. As he bends to slowly put on his pajama pants, he glances over his shoulders to find Namjoon still staring down at his hands, which are balled into tight fists. 

"Still in your rut?" Yoongi asks while pulling the pants to his hips. 

He picks up the towel and walks past Namjoon without looking at him, over to the bathroom to hang the towel on a hook. When he returns, Namjoon is watching him with a stare that is somewhat difficult to read. His brows are pinched, mouth in a slight frown, but there is a softness to his eyes. It almost reminds him of that night, after Namjoon had knotted him, and was rubbing his hair and trying to make him relax. 

Yoongi walks to the low table and finds a large salad with chicken, croutons, and a lot of vegetables, as well as a small assortment of pickled vegetables and a bowl of glass noodles on the side. He rounds the table and sits on his knees on the far side, with Namjoon and the bed to his right, and begins to rearrange the items on the table, pulling the tray close.

Namjoon clears his throat quietly and mutters, "I am."

Yoongi snickers, raising his gaze while saying, "I can smell it."

The way Namjoon blinks at him, brow further knitting, nearly makes Yoongi laugh, and he swallows down the urge while picking up his glass of water to have a drink. Cinnamon permeates the air, and Yoongi rolls his eyes, not in the mood to baby a grumpy alpha, if that is what the man is here for. 

"I'm glad to see you seem to be feeling better," Namjoon says while Yoongi spears a piece of chicken on his chopstick and chuckles to himself as he lifts it to his mouth. He hums in agreement then fits the entire long strip of chicken sideways between his cheeks, and closes his eyes as he savors the perfect blend of dressing on the delicately seasoned meat. 

"Jeongguk mentioned you were pretty out of it for a while," Namjoon continues, and Yoongi uses the metal chopsticks to gather a large bite of lettuce, pepper, and onion. 

"Typical heat," Yoongi grumbles before taking a bite. He fights the urge to ask Namjoon if he has ever actually witnessed Wheein experiencing a heat in all their years of being married, deciding it is best not to push him. 

Namjoon sighs, and Yoongi turns his gaze to the man, eyebrows raised while he chews. 

"Have I done or said something to piss you off?" Namjoon asks, taking Yoongi by surprise. 

Cinnamon scent spikes again, spicy with very little sweetness, and Yoongi scrunches up his nose in annoyance, shaking his head. 

"No," he responds, swallowing down his bite of food. "Why would you think that?"

Namjoon only stares at him, and Yoongi can see he is torn. He must have something on his mind; something that he wants to say to him, and Yoongi wishes he would just come out and say it. 

But Yoongi would rather eat, so eat, he does. If Namjoon wants to speak his mind, the floor is his, but Yoongi is not going to sit around and wait for him. The salad and banchan are delicious and savory, and hit all the spots. Yoongi is grateful for a lighter meal; his stomach is somewhat sensitive, and he already feels pretty full.

Minutes pass while Yoongi finishes his food, and although it is a little weird just having Namjoon sit in the periphery, he finds some comfort in the blend of their scents in the air. It is nice to have another warm body in the room, even if the body belongs to an annoying, impossible-to-read alpha with the best dick game he has ever experienced. 

A shiver runs through Yoongi at the thought of Namjoon fucking him, and he does his best to ignore the rush of arousal, but it hangs in the air between them, and there is no doubt Namjoon will be able to smell it, as well. 

Yoongi finishes his food and sits back with his palms anchored against the floor, closing his eyes while taking a deep, satisfied breath, feeling happier than he has in a while. Then he opens his eyes and turns to Namjoon. The alpha watches Yoongi with a wide, hungry gaze and an otherwise blank expression. 

"What?" Yoongi tries, attempting to sound playful, but Namjoon's stare becomes pointed. 

Yoongi attempts a different approach, sitting up and rubbing his palms over his pajama pant legs, suddenly feeling antsy. "You said you wanted to talk to me…what's up?"

Namjoon pats the space beside him, and Yoongi tenses at the thought of joining him on the bed, staring at him while his brain uselessly fails to come up with what he should do.

"Come here," Namjoon says softly, adding in a, "Please," that is more of a command than a question. 

With a fortifying breath, Yoongi gets onto his feet and shuffles over. He attempts to put space between them, and is surprised when Namjoon reaches out and takes his hand, pulling him over to sit close. Immediately, Yoongi's palms prickle with sweat, and he has a seat, removing himself from Namjoon's loose hold and clasping his hands over his lap. 

Warmth radiates from Namjoon, and his musk is so strong this close, that Yoongi finds himself sinking into a state of comfort and teetering on the edge of arousal. He attempts to breathe through it and get his bearings back, but Namjoon's presence covers him like a warm blanket, causing Yoongi to scramble to the side, scooting away from him.

"Namjoon, I can't—" Yoongi begins, and Namjoon turns to him, gets onto the bed on his hands and knees, and leans in close, sniffing the air loudly. Yoongi's pulse picks up, heavy and fast and suffocating, and he mutters, "What are you doing?"

"I can't stop thinking about you," Namjoon admits so softly, Yoongi wonders if he imagines it. 

Desire, guilt, and worry all build in his tummy, and he turns to Namjoon, places both hands on his shoulders, and attempts to push him away. "Well, you need to stop thinking about me," he says through grit teeth, frustrated when Namjoon is not moved even a little. "You have a wife."

"Yoongi," Namjoon huffs, emitting cinnamon and sounding exasperated, "please can we not—"

"What?" Yoongi asks, clipped and angry. "Can we not what?"

With a sigh, Namjoon sits up, then crashes to his hip with his legs bent, feet hanging over the edge of the bed. His gaze is unwavering, and Yoongi squirms in place, turning to bend his legs against the bed and face Namjoon; they definitely need to have a conversation. 

"The other night, with you…" Namjoon trails off, gazing flitting back and forth over Yoongi's face. He swallows hard and looks away, playing with the fur blanket that covers the bed with his fingertips. His voice is soft and low as he continues. 

"I know I shouldn't be telling you this. I know that I should just swallow everything down and try to ignore it, but…" Namjoon lifts his eyes, and they appear sad. "Yoongi, I…I think I am developing feelings for you."

A deep, angry scoff works its way from Yoongi's chest and stomach, and it huffs between his lips with the force of a tiny storm. He knows it has to be Namjoon's rut clouding his lust-addled brain, and the fact that he could so flippantly toy with Yoongi's emotions after what he has been through living in this weird fucking homestead, has sadness boiling in his guts.

"How dare you," he mutters before he can stop himself. 

Namjoon's eyebrows fly to his forehead, and he appears sympathetic albeit confused. "Yoongi, wait, what do you—"

"I need you to get out," Yoongi says, gripping onto the material of his pajama pants while his gaze falters and he looks instead to the fur covering the bed. "We can discuss things more when your rut is over, but right now, you are clearly not in your right mind, and you are talking nonsense. You shouldn't have come here."

Yoongi expects the room to be drenched in cinnamon and is surprised by the calming wave of heady, lust-laced musk and tangerine that fills his senses. His own arousal blends in, punctuated by pomegranate. 

"Yoongi, please—"

"Namjoon," Yoongi attempts to sound firm, but his voice trembles, "You can't think about me. You can't have feelings for me." Tears well in his eyes, which he closes as he whimpers, "It's not fair."

Before he can stop himself, tears break over his eye line, and he pulls his hands to his face to cover himself, embarrassed and confused and so fucking tired. Namjoon shifts on the bed, and as Yoongi can sense him getting closer, he attempts to twist away, but he is wrapped in a tight embrace that only serves to make him cry harder. 

"Yoongi," Namjoon coos softly, rubbing a hand over Yoongi's damp hair while the other is wrapped tightly around his back, pinning his arms in place. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I'm so sorry."

"It's not fair," Yoongi mutters again. He does not want to explain himself – does not want to admit to the alpha that he has feelings for him – but he cannot hold back. "You can't just say things like that to me. This isn't a game, Namjoon."

"Hey," Namjoon says, leaning back and sliding his hands until both grip his biceps. "Yoongi, look at me."

Yoongi shakes his head, digging his palms into his cheeks in a refusal to let Namjoon see him cry. But then Namjoon asks a soft, "Please," that cuts to his core, and Yoongi spreads his fingers to peer through, regarding Namjoon as little as possible.

"I'm not messing with you," Namjoon says sternly, intently. "I know that it might come as a surprise to you that I have feelings, but…I can't help it."

Yoongi opens his mouth, ready to remind Namjoon that being married to someone means he cannot go around having feelings for every omega he has ritualistic sex with, but Namjoon gives his arms a soft squeeze with brows pinched and mouth falling open, and Yoongi waits for him to speak again. He looks like he knows he should not say whatever he plans to tell Yoongi next, which only raises his anxiety more. 

"Wheein and I…fuck, this is going to make me sound like a fucking asshole."

Yoongi cannot help it, he chuckles – humorless but amused all the same – as he rubs his hands over his cheeks and lets them fall to his lap, saying, "Spit it out."

"Marrying Wheein was a political move," Namjoon says quickly, eyes on the wall behind Yoongi. "And, I don't know…maybe we used to enjoy each other's company, but…"

Yoongi's jaw sets, and he tongues the inside of his mouth. A dizzying mix of mirth and vitriol stir in the air, spicy with no sweetness to be found. "So you think having a baby will patch things up? Wouldn't a divorce be more effective?"

He can tell by the way Namjoon's eyes widen and pierce that he has struck a nerve, and is surprised to find only calming scents coming from the alpha. "It's not that easy, Yoongi," he mutters softly, almost as if he is ashamed. Or, perhaps, resolved. 

"Because you're a political figure," Yoongi responds, rolling his eyes. "Gods forbid the public witnesses their leader create healthy boundaries by filing a divorce. Oh, what will the citizens do if something such as divorce becomes more normalized?"

"I don't want to make a public spectacle of myself, Yoongi," Namjoon says with a hint of a snarl, tainting the air with sharp spice.

"No," Yoongi responds, eyes heavy from crying, shoulders raising defensively as he crosses his arms over his chest. "You would rather invite me here instead and make a quieter spectacle of me. Do you even want a child? Or were you just looking for someone to fuck?"

Namjoon heaves his next exhale and sits up straight, eyes trailing around the room almost as if he does not recognize his surroundings. Then he stands and scoffs, face morphing from incredulous anger to a dull amusement. 

"Yeah," Namjoon says suddenly, getting to his feet and sliding his hands into his pockets. "You're right, I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have…told you…" With an exhale and a shake of his head, Namjoon crosses the room and walks out, closing the door softly behind him. 

Yoongi feels sad, overwhelmed, and so terribly amused; all he can do is squeeze a pillow tight to his chest and laugh. 

For two days, Yoongi stays holed up in the bungalow. He finally takes out his laptop to catch up on a drama he had been watching before, and starts feeling much better, fully coming out of the haze of his heat and physically feeling like he has more energy. 

Today, he decides to go for a swim. The sun is shining bright, and when Jeongguk arrived to drop off lunch forty-ish minutes ago, a hot gust of air came in through the door, inviting Yoongi to dip into the warm pool. 

Yoongi changes into black swim shorts and a black tee, tying his overgrown dark hair into a bun atop his head. He walks to the bathroom to grab a fresh towel, and goes to the door, opening it wide with a smile on his face. To his surprise and chagrin, Wheein is in the pool while Namjoon is laid out on a pool bed, under a wide umbrella, reading a book. 

Hesitance stops Yoongi in his tracks, and he nearly changes his mind and returns to the bungalow when Wheein shouts, "Oh my god, Yoongi! Are you joining us?"

Although Yoongi keeps his gaze on Wheein, he can see Namjoon moving in the peripheral, and he nods, takes a fortifying breath, and closes the bungalow door tight behind him. He walks past Namjoon through a cloud of cinnamon and musk, over to the pool chairs near the far corner, and tosses his towel aside. 

Then he pulls his shirt over his head, wrapping his arms around his torso the moment the garment is flung to the chair, and quickly pads over to the steps, wasting no time getting into the water and squatting low so that it reaches his neck, careful not to let the bite mark on his inner thigh show. 

Wheein bounces over wearing a flashy red bathing suit and large black sunglasses. She has a wide smile plastered to her face, and she opens her arms wide, flinging droplets of water while pulling Yoongi into a tight hug, forcing him to stand up straight. 

"Oh my god, it's so nice to see you again," Wheein says as she pins Yoongi's arms to his sides in a warm embrace. "How was the…you know…ritual?"

"Uh," Yoongi mutters, laughing uncomfortably. 

Wheein releases the hug and takes a step back, lifting her sunglasses to her head. 

"Was it so awkward?" she asks with a curious smile. "Joonie said it was pretty awkward."

Yoongi does his best to school his thoughts and keep his scent as neutral as possible while he chuckles, shrugs, and says, "I guess so, yeah. It was pretty awkward." 

He laughs a little, feeling his cheeks blaze as he adds, "Namjoon was polite and professional," wincing inwardly and wishing he had kept that part off. 

For just a split, fleeting moment, Yoongi thinks Wheein's smile falters. Her gaze flits to Namjoon, and Yoongi wonders what she may be thinking about. But then she turns back to Yoongi looking happy as ever, and says, "I'm so glad to hear that. I really am so happy that you're the one helping us."

Yoongi nods, feeling a swelling of emotions. He does his best to only emit calm and hopes she does not notice the slightly sour hints of pomegranate. Luckily, her lavender is nice and strong, with only faintly-detected hints of bitter patchouli. 

A loud ringing echoes through the space, coming from Namjoon's direction, and Yoongi turns instinctively, watching as he stands – wearing only black swim shorts – cradling his book with a finger holding his place. 

"Break time's over," Namjoon calls before walking off toward the house in all his muscular, tanned glory, and Yoongi swallows a lump as he pulls his gaze away. 

Wheein sighs and wraps her arm over Yoongi's shoulders, pout audible as she says, "I was just about to offer you a glass of wine, but you might be pregnant."

And although Yoongi chuckles and says, "Darn," the fact sinks into his guts like heavy bricks. 

He might be pregnant. 

For several more days, Yoongi spends his time between watching dramas and swimming. He has learned that Namjoon has begun to transition most of his work duties to be done remotely, from home – presumably to be present during the pregnancy – and that he takes an hour-long lunch break that includes swimming and reading by the pool between 1:30 PM and 2:30 PM. 

Yoongi makes sure to swim no sooner than 3 PM, but no later than 5 PM, just to be safe. That way, if the alpha takes one of his evening runs, it is usually long after Yoongi has returned inside. Most days, he is alone, but Wheein seems to be taking an interest in at least coming outside to say hi and chit-chat. 

On the tenth day after the ritual, Yoongi and Jeongguk drive into the city for a doctor's appointment. And although Jeongguk is kind, funny, and a decent conversationalist, there is a part of Yoongi that wishes Namjoon would be able to play a more active role in all of this. Of course, he cannot, because if the media caught a whiff of the two of them at the appointment, it would cause a stir that Namjoon is trying to avoid.

He and Namjoon have not spoken since the day they had their argument, but Yoongi still wishes his calming alpha scents and familiar, soft voice were present while they sit in the sterile, fluorescent waiting room. He wishes Namjoon could hold his hand tight while he waits on the paper-clad operating table for the doctor to return with his urine and blood sample results. 

When the doctor says, "Congratulations, Min Yoongi-ssi. You're going to be a parent!" Yoongi wishes Namjoon could wrap him in a warm, tight hug. 

Yoongi does not hide the tears that fall when he and Jeongguk return to the car, and he is grateful when the beta quietly drives to an ice cream shop and tells Yoongi, "Anything you want. It's on me." 

He is grateful when he is handed a fish-shaped pastry full of melon soft-serve, and grateful that neither of them speaks the rest of the way to the hanok. At least he can hide away in the bungalow and be alone with his thoughts.

And he nearly gets through the night streaming television blissfully alone, eating his feelings, until, at 11:16 PM, there is a familiar knock at his door.

"Yeah? Come in." Yoongi calls with a sigh, tapping his fingertips to the space key to pause the episode before deciding he may as well just close his laptop and push it aside. 

It has been rather hot the last few days, and Yoongi only wears a pair of light blue briefs and a black tee. When the door opens, he bends his legs and wraps his arms around his knees, resting his head on one knee, facing Namjoon, who walks in and closes the door quietly behind him. 

Namjoon is dressed in grey sweatpants and a white tee, and he appears to hesitate before entering, then approaches the bed. 

"Do you want more furniture?" Namjoon asks, glancing around before having a seat at the end of the bed. "Or are you comfortable here?"

"Is this what you came to ask me about in the middle of the night?" Yoongi responds somewhat groggily. 

"No," Namjoon mutters, surprising Yoongi with a soft smile, emitting warm musk. "I suppose it is not."

Although Namjoon hesitates as he sits on the corner of the bed with his legs pretzeled and his back slumped slightly forward, he also seems much more calm and collected than the last time he was here. Yoongi wonders if he has come to apologize for everything from before, and he braces himself for Namjoon to once again tell him that what had happened was a mistake – a product of his rut and nothing more. 

"I thought I would come by because…well, we both owe one another an apology."

Yoongi snickers but nods, accepting that what he said before was probably not necessary or kind in any way. 

"I also wanted to congratulate you," Namjoon says much softer, gaze finding his.

All at once, Yoongi feels choked up, and he swallows it down, burying his face between his knees for a couple of seconds before changing the way he is sitting to mirror Namjoon, with his legs in a pretzel and his back straight. 

"Congratulations to you two, as well," Yoongi mutters, voice much shakier than he would like. 

Silence hangs, and although it does not feel heavy, Yoongi suddenly wants to curl into a ball and close his eyes to the world. He feels overcome with sadness and a little bit of excitement for the life he carries. 

Unable to hold in his emotions, Yoongi hugs his arms tightly around himself, lets his chin fall to his chest, and heaves out a shaky exhale. He is so tired of crying, but cannot help the tears that build and fall. At this point, he no longer cares if Namjoon sees him like this. 

Namjoon stands and walks to the door, and for a split moment, Yoongi wonders if he is going to leave him. Maybe he thinks coming here was a mistake and he cannot stand watching the omega cry, yet again. 

But Namjoon locks the door and returns to the bed, tilting his head as he quietly asks, "Are you tired? Do you want to lay down?"

Yoongi shakes his head, although it is not entirely true; he is tired. But he is not interested in lying down just yet. Not if Namjoon has more that he wants to say to him. 

"May I?" Namjoon asks, opening his arms and lifting one knee to the bed.

Without allowing himself to overthink it, Yoongi nods. And when Namjoon gets onto the bed behind him with his legs on either side of Yoongi and his arms wrapped around his shoulders, Yoongi sinks into the feeling, breathing in the calming scents that waft from the alpha, and letting his tears fall freely. 

Namjoon is warm, and he holds Yoongi just tightly enough that he feels protected and safe. Although the knowledge of all of this having an end date looms overhead, Yoongi allows himself to pretend that it can be his. 

Gently, Namjoon rakes fingernails over Yoongi's head, making him practically purr from how nice it feels. He has no idea how long they sit tangled together, but Yoongi sniffles and breathes deeply as the tears dry, catching his breath a little more easily. 

"Want to tell me why you're crying?" Namjoon asks, and Yoongi scoffs. 

He practically asks Namjoon why he cares but settles on, "This is all just…a lot."

Namjoon hums and continues to gently scratch at his head, and Yoongi closes his eyes while considering how much he should divulge. Would it be worth it to tell Namjoon that he really has been developing feelings, and that is why he acted so irrationally the last time the alpha was here? He thinks it would, but struggles to find the words. 

Suddenly, the warmth and comfort of Namjoon's embrace feels like too much, and he shrugs away the arm over his shoulders and sits up. Without turning to face the alpha, Yoongi closes his eyes and says, "I do owe you an apology."

Namjoon rubs a hand over Yoongi's back and he flinches slightly, finding himself feeling bothered by how kind he is being despite everything. Or, perhaps, only bothered by how badly he wishes he could have this affection full-time and not just in bursts. 

"I'm sorry for what I said. What goes on under your roof is your business, not mine. But what you said really struck a nerve with me."

Namjoon hums and asks, "Because you don't feel the same way about me, I assume?"

Yoongi's heart pounds heavily as he twists and assesses the soft, daresay caring expression Namjoon regards him with. He frowns and furrows his brow, and all he can respond with is, "What?"

Namjoon sighs, cocks his head to the side, and with a soft smile says, "I meant what I said, you know. And I apologize if that was something that you didn't want or need to hear at the time. I can't imagine how weird it must have been for me to confess my feelings after we have hardly gotten to know each other outside of…well…you know…the ritual."

Yoongi's brain buffers. He struggles to accept any of what Namjoon has just said, and once more, only has the ability to ask, "What?"

This time, Namjoon falters, and he looks confused. "I'm…not sure what was unclear, but—"

Yoongi shakes his head and waves his hands, desperate for Namjoon to shut the fuck up before he incriminates both of their hearts even more. He opens his mouth to argue and insist that Namjoon must only think he has feelings because of the heightened emotion surrounding his rut, but instead, Yoongi blurts, "But I do have feelings for you," taking them both by surprise.

"I mean—" Yoongi says, heavy-blinking and shaking his head as he comes to his senses, "—fuck, why did I say that out loud?"

Namjoon's eyes are wide as disks, and he reaches up, gently cradling Yoongi's face with an expression that oozes affection. Yoongi shakes his head in tiny, quick movements and turns away, shrugging off the hands that touch him. 

"We can't," Yoongi mutters, eyes wide and glued to the black sheet that folds over the edge of the mattress and disappears. He repeats it again, softly, like a mantra. "We can't."

Namjoon's hands rub over the slopes of Yoongi's shoulders and gently tugs him back. And as much as Yoongi wants to resist and shove the alpha away, he allows himself to be wrapped into a back hug. When Namjoon's hot breath sighs against his neck, stirring up a familiar swell of arousal, he squeezes his eyes closed, doing his best to ignore the soft but present heady blend of scents that shroud them.

"We shouldn't," Namjoon responds, voice breathy and a bit distant. "Once with you should be enough."

Yoongi hums and nods. "Once has to be enough."

It is silent save for the pounding of Namjoon's heart against Yoongi's ear, and he begins to drift asleep, half-seated and half-lying when he hears Namjoon ask, soft enough to nearly be a whisper, "But what if it's not?"

Yoongi wakes up with his face on Namjoon's chest and gasps, scrambling back while holding in the urge to scream. He remembers Namjoon coming in last night but has no memory of the two of them lying down together and falling asleep. 

The movement startles Namjoon awake, who regards him with wide, worried eyes before he huffs out a quiet chuckle and stretches his arms over his head, asking, "What time is it?"

Yoongi feels frantic and afraid, and he looks around for his phone, finding it on the low wooden table and haphazardly dropping to his knees on the floor to grab it. 

"7:02," Yoongi says, turning back to Namjoon to gauge whether or not the alpha is going to be in a lot of shit for not returning to his bed last night.

Namjoon, however, has the fabric of his shirt pinched between two fingers, right near his pec, inspecting a spot in the fabric. He looks at Yoongi with an amused smile and says, "You drool in your sleep. Cute."

"Cu—" Yoongi starts, already tired of this day before it has had a chance to begin. "Shouldn't you get back to your room? You stayed the night!"

Although Namjoon chuckles in response, his eyes are somewhat sad when he says, "We often don't share a bed. It's fine."

"Oh," Yoongi responds, feeling a bit sullen. "But what about Jeongguk? Doesn't he have a key?"

Namjoon holds his arm out across the bed and pats the mattress invitingly. "He does, but he wouldn't come in here without permission if the door is locked. And you can always message and tell him to bring you breakfast later this morning."

Yoongi stands and returns to bed against his better judgment, clutching his phone tight. He supposes he could message Jeongguk. Or he could insist Namjoon get the fuck out of the bungalow and leave him to stew in last night's confessions alone. 

But Namjoon is handsome, warm, and smells like heaven, and he crawls back to the center of the bed and allows himself to be pulled down against his muscular, drool-spotted chest. 

Only, Namjoon rolls them over, flipping Yoongi onto his back while he hovers above, burying his nose against Yoongi's neck and down to his armpit, sniffling like a madman. Yoongi chuckles and shoves Namjoon away, only for the alpha to make more of a show of smelling him. 

"What are you doing?" he complains despite his smile.

"You're addicting," Namjoon groans, nuzzling against Yoongi's neck, tickling him with a faint pass of lips against skin. 

"What?" Yoongi asks through a laugh, jerking his head away. 

Namjoon wraps his arms around Yoongi and yanks him until he is on his side and the two of them are facing one another. He feels somewhat crazed from all the attention – from how grabby the alpha is – and he buries his face between Namjoon's shoulder and the pillow. 

"You smell even better after sweating all night," Namjoon responds in that deep inviting tone that makes Yoongi want to dive into a frozen lake. 

Petulant, Yoongi whines, "Shut the fuck up," earning him a laugh. 

Yoongi feels tired and begins to drift in and out of sleep as he and Namjoon settle into their tangled positions, with Namjoon returning to his back and Yoongi fitting perfectly against his side. 

When he wakes again, Namjoon is slowly sliding from his hold and sitting up in bed. 

"Hmm?" Yoongi grumbles, wiping drool from his face. 

"Gotta get to work," Namjoon says. 

"Oh."

Yoongi rolls onto his back and stretches his limbs out long, then he sits and rolls his shoulders back. He feels deep, empty heaviness as hunger pangs settle like gunpowder in his stomach. 

"I should message Jeongguk," he grumbles, mostly to himself. 

"I already did," Namjoon responds as he crawls out of the foot end of the bed and passes a hand over his dark brown hair. 

It takes a moment for the words to catch up, and Yoongi gasps, asking, "You what?"

"Relax," Namjoon says, rounding the bed and approaching Yoongi's side, taking a seat beside him. His dimples show as he smiles softly, eyes roving Yoongi's face. "He tried the door shortly after you fell back asleep, and I let him know that we were having a private conversation but that I would let him know when to return."

"Oh." It sounds simple enough, Yoongi supposes. "But what if he suspects—"

Namjoon shakes his head and cuts him off. "Don't worry about Jeongguk." 

"Okay," Yoongi mutters, unconvinced.

Before he can say anything more, Namjoon leans and plants a soft kiss to Yoongi's temple, causing the world to screech to a halt. Air gets caught in Yoongi's lungs, and he stares at Namjoon unable to process what just happened. 

"Have a good day, Yoongi. You should come swim at 1:30 today."

Yoongi nods, still dazed. "Oh…okay."

And with that, Namjoon gets up and leaves. Yoongi stares ahead for several minutes, interrupted by a familiar knock, thankful to find the resident beta carrying a tray of omelet and tea. 

As he gets up to sit on one of the yellow-brown cushions, the spot on his head still tingles, and Yoongi finds himself fixated on how soft the alpha's lips are against his skin. 

Yoongi checks his phone over and over all morning and afternoon in anticipation to go out to the pool. He even gets dressed in his swim shorts and a black tee twenty minutes early and opens the bungalow door a crack to let in some warm afternoon air. 

At 1:30 on the dot, he hears the hanok door open and close, and he gets up from his floor cushion in a rush and scampers into the bathroom for a towel. Then he stops in his tracks in the bathroom and forces himself to breathe deeply in and out. He does not need to walk out into the blazing afternoon sun reeking of desperation, especially if Wheein or Jeongguk are around. 

When Yoongi finally steps out of the bungalow, Namjoon is sitting on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water, wearing only a pair of black shorts while staring ahead, softly kicking his feet. Yoongi's presence makes him look up with a start, and the wide smile that spreads over his lips kicks up Yoongi's pulse, undoing all the calm breathing he had done moments ago. The sight of Namjoon's nude sun-kissed torso alone has his cheeks turning warm.

"Fancy seeing you here," Yoongi grumbles playfully as he tosses his towel to a chair near Namjoon and peels out of his shirt. 

Namjoon anchors himself onto his hands and slides into the pool, going all the way underwater before returning. He is deep enough that the water comes to his pecs, and he waves for Yoongi to get in. Yoongi approaches the deep end and throws his hands over his head to dive in shallowly, just below the surface, sucking in a breath the moment his fingers breach the water, and smiling to himself as he huffs out the lungful of air.

When he stands, Namjoon is wading over to where he is, and he backs up instinctively, bouncing with every step and changing course in a bit of a zig-zag while the alpha approaches. Namjoon has a sharp, mischievous smile, and every one of Yoongi's nerves is on high alert.

"I feel like I'm being stalked by a shark," Yoongi jokes as he makes quick steps backward, only for Namjoon to make wide, swift steps forward. 

"We're canidae, Yoongi," Namjoon teases, "not fish."

Yoongi finds himself cornered, too distracted by the advancing alpha to keep track of where he is going. When Namjoon lunges forward, caging him in with his arms on either side of Yoongi's shoulders, Yoongi screams and laughs – chest heavy and so full of joy. Namjoon steps in close, knocking their knees together as he chuckles deeply, and hits Yoongi with a dizzying scent of heady musk. 

His voice sends a shiver through Yoongi as he says, "Seems I have you cornered, pretty omega."

Unable to hold back from panicking, Yoongi looks between the hanok and Namjoon, waiting for someone to come walking out and find them like this. Finally, while quaking with anxiety, he turns his head to the side and mutters, "What if someone sees us."

Namjoon's arms slip into the pool, and his head disappears underwater for just a moment as he bends and wraps his arms around Yoongi's thighs, lifting him as he stands. Yoongi yelps and instinctively wraps his arms and legs around the alpha, squirming and squealing in his hold. 

"They went on an errand," Namjoon says, dripping wet with his hair in his face, hands rubbing over Yoongi's ass while he presses Yoongi back against the wall. He leans close, speaking directly into Yoongi's ear as he adds, "They won't be back for a few hours."

"N-Namjoon," Yoongi mutters, dazed by the pheromones that ooze from the alpha but also worried about the kinds of lines they may be crossing. "We shouldn't—" he mutters, swallowing a lump. "We can't."

Namjoon rakes his teeth and lips over Yoongi's scent gland, and his body reacts so strongly – quaking and tingling and oozing with musk – he finds himself whimpering and clawing at Namjoon's shoulder. 

"I know it's wrong," Namjoon groans. "But I can't keep my hands off of you."

Blood rushes to Yoongi's cock, and with every hot breath that ghosts over his neck, his hips shiver and rut. He can feel how hard Namjoon is every time one of them moves even the slightest amount, and he plants his hands on Namjoon's shoulders when his desire becomes too overwhelming, attempting to push him away.

"We can't do this out here," Yoongi says, somewhat frantic. "Even if they left, it's too risky."

"Where can we do it?" Namjoon asks, and Yoongi knows he should not invite him back to the bungalow – knows that the only correct answer is nowhere; they cannot do this anywhere, under any circumstances. 

But he swallows thickly and says, "Inside," before he can stop himself, closing his eyes as guilt sloshes around his insides. 

In a swift movement, Yoongi is lifted and placed onto the edge of the pool. He flails, confused by what is happening until his butt meets rough, warm gunite. 

Namjoon's pupils are blown wide, and he grins as he says, "Better run, little omega. If I catch you, I might just eat you."

All at once, Yoongi's anxiety and arousal reach new, horrifying heights, and he scrambles to his feet and runs around the pool to where his towel and shirt are. Namjoon wastes no time hoisting himself from the pool, water pouring from his body as he gets to his feet and stalks Yoongi around the deep end, causing Yoongi to scramble and run in the opposite direction of the bungalow, near the shallow end. 

"Where are you going, pretty Yoongi?" Namjoon teases in a growl, walking just a little faster to where his towel also hangs draped over a nearby chair.

Once the towel is in hand, Namjoon runs toward Yoongi, making him scream from excitement as he darts around the shallow end of the pool and takes off the long way toward the bungalow. Namjoon spins on his heels – closer to the bungalow than the shallow end – and takes chase, making Yoongi feel frantic as he opens the door wide and slams it shut. 

Feeling somewhat guilty about standing on the hardwood floor dripping wet, Yoongi hurriedly towels himself off, staring eagerly at the door, which opens fast and wide, revealing a wet, hungry alpha. 

Namjoon wastes no time closing the door, locking the knob, and crossing the space in two swift steps, wrapping his arms around Yoongi's waist before sinking to his knees. The look in his eyes is dark and full of lust, and Yoongi trembles where he stands, heart beating frantically in his chest. 

"Namjoon, what—" Yoongi begins, watching as the alpha's eyes trail down his naked torso, to the bulge in his shorts, then drift lower, to the bruise on his thigh. He looks sad, and he leans forward and places a soft kiss over the skin. 

Yoongi's eyelids flutter closed at the feeling of Namjoon's mouth pressing into the sensitive spot. He wonders how long a mark like that might stay, and how much harder he would have had to bite in order for it to be a mating mark – on his neck, of course; not his thigh. 

Curiously, Yoongi opens his eyes and begins to inspect Namjoon's shoulders and neck for his mating mark. When he finds nothing on either side, he dances his fingertips over the skin beside Namjoon's throat, absentmindedly muttering, "You don't have one."

Confusion stirs in Namjoon's lifted gaze before recognition settles. He scoffs and shakes his head, and then – with a sadness in his eyes – says, "I told you…we're not in love."

Even in today's society, with things being done in less traditional ways, the one act that people still hold onto is mating marks. They say the bond between mated pairs is less intense than it once was, and it is even common to meet younger folks with marks who are single, and folks with more than one. But not marking at all, after years of marriage, is practically unheard of. Especially for a traditionalist like Namjoon, who will not even have a surrogate carry his child in vitro. 

Yoongi feels sad at the thought of Namjoon being in a loveless marriage all these years, and he rubs his fingertips over the alpha's cheek before sitting down on the edge of the bed, bringing the two of them closer to being eye-level. 

"What are we going to do?" Yoongi mumbles, unsure what precisely he is asking for, or what Namjoon can even say.

"I don't know," Namjoon responds. "Let's just…take it one day at a time."

Yoongi nods, feeling affection burst and bloom behind his ribs. And when Namjoon sits high on his knees and says, "Turn around, I want to taste you," Yoongi does not think twice. 

Namjoon peels away Yoongi's soaked shorts and tosses them aside, groaning as he spreads him with both hands and licks over his slick entrance, causing Yoongi to sink forward into the mattress, legs hanging off the edge of the bed, completely enraptured in bliss. For a split moment, Yoongi questions whether he should stop this, but he does not dare; not when Namjoon makes him feel so good. 

Namjoon is slow and steady as he eats Yoongi out, twisting fingers inside him while his tongue and lips lap and swirl and suck. 

"Tastes so good," he says intermittently, making Yoongi's tummy do a backflip. "I haven't been able to stop thinking about this."

Yoongi sees stars when Namjoon flips him over and takes his cock deep into his throat, gagging himself while sucking eagerly, pulling Yoongi's release from him in an unfurling of time and space that has his body suspended in pleasure and intoxicating desire. He sobs and whimpers as he cums down Namjoon's throat, gripping tightly to his wet hair while his body trembles and quakes. 

And when the shrill alarm on the alpha's phone blares just in time, letting him know his lunch break is over, Yoongi feels satisfied as Namjoon plants a soft kiss to his temple and leaves the bungalow in as much of a flurry as he arrived. 

Some nights, Namjoon sneaks into the bungalow nice and late to fuck Yoongi until he cries, always pulling out before he knots, sometimes only using his hands and mouth to make him completely fall apart. 

"I thought about you all day," Namjoon always says as his fingers dig into soft skin, and he takes and takes, pulling pleasure from Yoongi as if it is his lifeblood – always greedy, always reverent. 

Other nights, Namjoon comes by just to hold him and talk with him about remedial stuff. What music they like, what movies they have recently seen, any memorable events that have happened since high school. The more Yoongi gets to know the alpha, the more he finds himself falling for him, and although the heated nights are his favorites, he cherishes these softer moments – holds them close to his heart. 

Namjoon arrives some days with his tray of lunch and tea instead of Jeongguk, always quick to check Yoongi's forehead and ask how he feels. Most days, when Yoongi joins Namjoon poolside, nobody else is around, and they can speak and giggle softly while Yoongi wades against the wall with his arms on the gunite floor, and Namjoon sits in his chair, holding onto the same book he has hardly made progress on for weeks. 

The two of them have taken to licking over one another's scent glands, but they have never kissed on the mouth. There seems to be an unspoken boundary that neither of them is willing to cross, and Yoongi thinks it is probably best, this way. Kissing is too intimate, he tells himself, knowing in his heart that so many other moments between them are, as well. Kissing, he decides, is too sacred.

Tonight, Yoongi lays on Namjoon's chest, both naked while the alpha combs his fingers through his hair, on the edge of sleep but eager to stay awake a little longer just to bask in his presence. His tummy is still flat, but he can feel his body changing; he has even begun to get sick some mornings. 

Nights like these, laying in Namjoon's arms, are a perfect way to end otherwise tempestuous days.  

"You know…" Namjoon mutters against the crown of Yoongi's head, and Yoongi hums in response. "We never signed that contract."

Yoongi chuckles and pulls Namjoon closer, nuzzling his head against his sweaty bare pec. "I know. I think about it sometimes."

"Remember the argument we had, when you were still in the main house?" Namjoon asks, and Yoongi buries his face against him and laughs. 

"Oh, gods, don't remind me."

"You insulted me as an alpha," Namjoon chuckles, holding Yoongi tighter, "and then I stormed in there and you…were you turned on, or something? I swear, I could smell it; you made me dizzy."

With a whiny, embarrassed groan, Yoongi shoves at Namjoon, attempting to roll away, only for his alpha to wrap his arms tight around his back and pull him close. 

"You looked so fucking hot when you were angry," Yoongi mutters, feeling his cheeks warm.

Namjoon laughs some more, and Yoongi flails, indignant and slapping the alpha's chest with open palms while laughing, as well – hands striking only hard enough to make Namjoon take him by the wrists, roll him over, and pin him down.

"Is this what you wanted me to do to you?" Namjoon growls when he gets Yoongi onto his back with his arms held beside his head, pinning him to the mattress while he kisses his neck, his clavicle, his chest, going lower and lower until the grip on his wrists falls away. 

"Gods, yes," Yoongi whimpers as arousal and excitement pool and slosh inside him, pouring out in a heady musk, inviting Namjoon to do anything he wants. 

Namjoon growls as he nips and kisses Yoongi's tummy, to his hip bone, which is always so ticklish, making Yoongi squirm. Ordinarily, the alpha would spread his legs wide and lift his hips, bending him in half to taste his slick. But tonight, Namjoon stops right at his belly button, lips gently pressed into his skin, and he stares at Yoongi as if lost in thought. 

Yoongi lifts his head to find Namjoon cradling his tummy while slowly planting kisses against it, and he anchors himself on his elbows as he asks, "Everything alright?"

With a heavy blink, Namjoon nods and lifts his head to smile, but there is a sadness lingering in his eyes, and Yoongi sits up further, reaching down to rub the backs of his fingers over Namjoon's cheek. 

"What is it?" Yoongi asks, and Namjoon gets up onto his hands and knees and hovers over Yoongi, caging him in with his head just above his chest. 

"Have you ever wanted to raise a child?" Namjoon asks, and Yoongi freezes, feeling the air slowly get sucked from his lungs. 

Truth be told, no. He has not. 

"I don't…know…" Yoongi tries, worried about being too honest; worried that if he says no, Namjoon may no longer want him. 

Namjoon watches him for a quiet moment, then kisses his chest and lower, down to his belly, hips, and thighs, soft and slow. When he finally rolls Yoongi around and pulls him onto his knees, thighs spread wide, he is unhurried, taking his time building Yoongi up and pushing him over the edge, again and again, until he is overstimulated and begging Namjoon to stop. 

The night before his eight-week checkup, Yoongi is frantic and hormonal, desperate for Namjoon to knot him and make him scream. Namjoon hesitates at first, clearly scared of hurting Yoongi, but he begs on his hands and knees, choking down Namjoon's thick length until it is achingly hard and ready for him. 

Namjoon props a pillow under Yoongi's ass and fucks him rough – hard and fast like the first night, fingers and mouth possessive and harsh against his soft skin. Although Yoongi has not begun to show, Namjoon is careful of his tummy, keeping his hands on his hips, thighs, pecs, and throat. 

The punishing pace of Namjoon's hips has Yoongi swaying and whimpering deliriously while his body is slightly arched, head digging back against a pillow. Namjoon always fucks Yoongi like each time could be the last, but he seems to hold back, never squeezing too hard or thrusting too fast. Tonight, Yoongi needs it. He begs and pleads until Namjoon gives it to him so good that he can only whimper and sob, crazed and practically non-verbal.

"Gonna cum, pretty," Namjoon grunts, hips stuttering. "Are you sure you can take it?"

Yoongi nods frantically before muttering, "Please," barely able to get the word out. 

One large, warm hand travels over Yoongi's side, up to his neck, and around to the back of his head, gripping a fistful of hair. Namjoon lifts Yoongi's neck, pulling him upward, and Yoongi nods somewhat maniacally, on the verge of cuming and so dreadfully entranced by the sight of his alpha. 

"I'm gonna—" Namjoon grunts, squeezing his eyes closed before opening them wide, brow knitting desperately. "Fuck, Yoongi, I'm gonna—"

Namjoon bows his back, sweat glistening down his neck, chest, and stomach. He groans and heaves out quick bursts of air, and then he bends forward, filling Yoongi with his hot release – spurt after spurt, mixing with all the slick, which Yoongi can feel dripping from him. 

And then, the knot begins, and immediately, it is so overwhelming, Yoongi starts to scramble and squeal, squeezing his eyes closed while he breathes heavy and fast. Tears break, and just when he thinks he cannot take anymore, Namjoon grips onto his hard, leaking cock, rolling his palm over the head. 

"Fuck, yes!" Yoongi screams as his orgasm rolls through him like molten lava in his veins, and he trembles and sobs, convulsing in Namjoon's hold, bending further forward as his release sprays over his tummy. 

Namjoon's knot continues growing, and as Yoongi's high begins to subside, oversensitivity sets in, causing him to panic; feeling amazing in the worst way possible. 

Namjoon looks maniacal as he leans forward, wraps his arms around Yoongi's back, and growls, "Bite me."

"Wh—what?" Yoongi asks, dazed and dizzy and being torn asunder. 

The scent Namjoon emits is so cloyingly sweet and thick on Yoongi's tongue that he finds himself chasing it – leaning forward, suspended by Namjoon, who aids in pulling him close. Yoongi opens his mouth and grazes his lips over the alpha's neck but hesitates. He wants to bite him so badly, but that would be an act of staking claim on him, and he is not sure that he can do it. 

A scream rips through Yoongi as the knot continues to expand, and he buries his face in the junction between Namjoon's shoulder and neck, attempting to muffle the sound. Namjoon grips onto Yoongi's hair tight with his fist and holds him against his salty sweat-slick skin. 

"Bite me, omega," he insists. 

The pain reaches its peak, and Yoongi whimpers, trembling and frantic. He knows that he has to bite in order to stave off the pain. He cannot hold back any longer.

With a pitchy roar, Yoongi opens his mouth wide, closes over Namjoon's scent gland, and clamps down hard. All at once, a burst of euphoria floods into his mouth and fills his chest and head with a warm rush of calm and affection. Yoongi continues to bite, breaking skin and tasting blood, all the while Namjoon holds him in place, trembling and growling against him – clinging on like a lifeline. 

But he feels incomplete. Yoongi's body is suspended between heaven and hell, full and connected and sated, but he feels like something is missing. 

"Need you to bite me too," Yoongi sobs, licking Namjoon's blood from his own lips. Tears pour from his eyes as his body shimmers and flows with a bliss he has never known possible. He hardly recognizes his voice as he begs for it. "Namjoon, please!" 

"Are you sure?" Namjoon asks, teeth chattering against Yoongi's neck; when did Namjoon's face become buried in his neck?

Yoongi nods and claws at Namjoon's shoulders and back, feebly attempting to pull him close. And when Namjoon sinks his teeth in, Yoongi snaps. 

White and splotchy black is all Yoongi can see as he screams and trembles and writhes, caught on his alpha's knot with his scent gland pierced by teeth. Arousal surges through him in a frenzy he hardly comprehends, and he cums untouched, spurting his release against both their bodies. Never has he felt so electric before as shockwaves of pleasure roll through every inch of him.

In a blink, Yoongi is laying flat on his back with his limbs spread wide, and Namjoon is dragging soft kisses over his neck and chin, muttering incomprehensibly as the pain of the knot dulls and he begins to return to his senses. 

Yoongi lifts his heavy, trembling arms and grabs Namjoon by the chin, capturing his mouth in an eager clash of lips and teeth. When he opens his mouth for Namjoon to lick hungrily inside, the taste of their blood comingles before fading away to something sweeter and more delicate; something innately Namjoon. 

"Should we have done that?" Yoongi asks against Namjoon's lips as he begins to fade and fall asleep. "Was that a mistake?"

"I don't care," Namjoon mutters against his chin, draping his heavy warm body over Yoongi, getting comfortable enough to wait for the knot to deflate. "All I want is you. It feels right; I don't care if it's wrong."

As sleep claims Yoongi, he almost allows himself to mutter confessions of love, stopping himself just in time. 

The ride into the city has Yoongi on edge, and he does his best to mask his scent, but it is impossible. He knows he must stink like Namjoon, as well, making the trip excruciatingly nerve-racking. Wheein insisted on driving Yoongi to his appointment. 

"If the media finds out, we're old high school friends, so it wouldn't be weird for me to accompany you," she says reassuringly. "I'm too excited to wait; I want to have a glance at our little baby."

If Wheein notices anything about Yoongi's aroma – his sharp, distressed pomegranate and the heady alpha musk that lingers on his skin – she says nothing. Although her own earthy patchouli gives her anxiety away, her voice is friendly, and she appears eager to be helpful. 

The waiting room is dauntingly bright, and the doctor's office feels suffocating. Yoongi keeps his hoodie on, covering the bite mark on his neck. When he adjusts his shirt and pants for the doctor to perform an ultrasound, he closes his eyes. The lubricant and metal paddles are cold on his skin, and everything about this situation is so overwhelming, he feels the urge to cry. 

A soft, warm hand takes his, and all at once, lavender hits his senses, and he lets out a deep sigh. Being comforted by Wheein only makes him feel worse, but at least his tears are warranted; seeing your baby for the first time is emotional, after all. 

Once he opens his eyes and looks at the screen, a little black blob comes into view, looking like nothing more than a giant bean. And then the paddle works over Yoongi's stomach, pressing in hard, and all at once, he hears it – the heartbeat. 

"Wow, just look at that," Wheein says, and Yoongi nods then sniffles as hot tears pour down his cheeks. 

There it is – the little life that he and Namjoon have made. A giant bean with a heartbeat. A living, breathing piece of the two of them.

Neither Namjoon nor Yoongi swims for the rest of the summer. The bite marks on their necks never fully heal, and the one Yoongi wears bursts with deep blues, reds, and purples – bruised in the shape of each of Namjoon's teeth. Whenever he runs his fingertips over it, warmth and affection blooms, covering him like a shroud. 

But when Namjoon drags his mouth over it, oh the feeling is horrific – good in ways that should not be physically allowed. Arousal bursts through Yoongi like an electric current, running at frequencies too high to control. Just a pass of lips over skin has his cock hard and leaking in his pants – has him on his knees begging for the alpha to cum down his throat and make a fucking mess of him. 

As Yoongi's tummy grows, his appetite for pleasure is insatiable. Namjoon spends far too much time in the bungalow for their relationship to go undetected, and Yoongi fears for the worst once the baby is born. He fears Wheein's wrath somehow, though he is not sure what to even expect from someone like her. 

Will Namjoon get a divorce? Will Yoongi move out and allow their relationship to fizzle? Will he sit on the sidelines pretending nothing ever happened while an unhappy couple raises his baby as their own?

Most days and nights, Yoongi does not want to ask the hard questions. He only wants to take it one day at a time, as Namjoon suggested. And when Jeongguk drives him to and from the doctor appointments, they always end in tears and ice cream before he is brought back to his temporary home.

Yoongi does not dare tell Namjoon that he loves him. But sometimes, he thinks Namjoon knows. A soft, candid glance here and there, and the way he holds him as he uses his hands and mouth to make him cum – close, affectionate, delicate. Namjoon oozes knowing and understanding, even if he is also too afraid to voice it. 

When Namjoon arrives with a wide smile and a grocery bag of Yoongi's favorite snacks, Yoongi is sprawled on the floor cushions, staring at the ceiling. He groans as he somewhat sits up, body stretched and heavy, feeling the familiar swell of love that aches deep inside him at the sight of his alpha. 

"How are you feeling, pretty?" Namjoon asks as he crosses the room and sits on his knees, discarding the bag on the nearby low table. 

He wears turtlenecks now, usually black like the one he has on today, tucked into grey slacks. Namjoon hovers over Yoongi, caging him in with his arms and legs, leaning in for a chaste, soft kiss. It always takes Yoongi by surprise when they kiss, and he sighs into the feeling, lifting a hand to card through Namjoon's freshly cut, short dark brown hair. Namjoon groans against his lips as Yoongi drags blunt fingertips against his scalp. 

"I feel good," Yoongi finally answers as Namjoon backs up only enough for them to see one another. "Better now that you're here."

"Corny," Namjoon teases with a scrunch of his nose, despite the tangy-sweet tangerine he emits. 

Yoongi pouts. "It's true."

They hover like this for a while, inspecting one another up close with soft smiles and knowing glances. Words hang around them left unsaid, palpable in the air, and Yoongi wonders when he will find the nerve to just voice everything that builds in his lungs and throat, suffocating in the way his feelings cling.

"Namjoon," he tries tentatively, cringing with the way his voice trembles. 

The alpha's gaze softens – something Yoongi would not have thought possible, given how he was already looking at him – and Yoongi takes a fortifying breath and, barely above a whisper, says, "I'm scared."

Although Namjoon says nothing, there is recognition in his eyes. He sits up, then stands, and reaches his hands out to help Yoongi onto his feet. Although it is a bit of a task now for Yoongi to move his body around quickly, Namjoon makes it seem so easy, cradling and lifting him, holding him until he is stable. Then they walk the two steps to the bed, and Namjoon sits, getting into the middle with his legs spread and knees bent, patting the spot in front of him. 

Yoongi gets on his knees and moseys over, plopping down with his legs bent to the side, facing Namjoon. Clearly dissatisfied with the space between them, Namjoon scoots forward until one leg is beside Yoongi and the other is draped over his ankles. 

"Talk to me," Namjoon says. 

"After the baby is born—" Yoongi begins, but he chokes on a sob. His chest rattles and he does not think he can say what is on his mind. 

Namjoon scoots closer and pulls Yoongi into a hug, tugging him forward until he is resting against the alpha's chest, listening to his heartbeat. Silence hangs, and Yoongi lets tears fall but swallows back every urge to fully bawl. 

"I just…" he tries again, swallowing and sniffling and closing his eyes tight. "Once I'm done here…once I return home, we…we won't—"

"Shh," Namjoon whispers, holding Yoongi close, emitting musky citrus. "I suppose we do need to talk about this, don't we? I don't want you to be so afraid."

"What if I never see you again?" Yoongi sobs, unable to hold back, clenching the black material of Namjoon's shirt in his fist, desperate to never let him go again. "What if you just carry on as if none of this ever happened?"

"Yoongi—" Namjoon tries, backing up as if attempting to look at him.

But Yoongi holds him close as anguish rattles through him. "You said I shouldn't come around to see the baby. You said it would be bad for the media to know about me. So once I'm gone that's it, that's—"

"Hey, hey, Yoongi," Namjoon says, hugging him nice and tight, squishing Yoongi's face into his chest. "We didn't sign the contract. We're not…legally required to do anything, alright? I'll…we'll figure something out."

"You're married," Yoongi sobs, grinding his face against Namjoon's chest while air heaves from his lungs – burns behind his ribs. "You're married and once I leave, your life will go back to normal. Remember long ago, when you told me, 'We can’t choose our circumstances, but we can do our best with what we are given'? Well, I didn't choose to fall for you, and now I'm…now I'm gonna lose you and I…Oh gods, I'm gonna lose you."

"You remember me saying that?" Namjoon asks softly, hug loosening but not letting go. "That was years ago." 

Yoongi sniffles and sits up, eyes raw and heavy. When he releases his grasp on Namjoon's shirt, his palm is sweaty, and the material is wrinkled. 

"Of course I remember that," he mutters, rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. "You were nice to me when nobody else was. I could never forget that." 

This time, the silence that hangs feels oppressive, but Yoongi does not know what more there is to say. And his body betrays him with intense cravings and hunger that need to be addressed. 

"What did you bring me?" he asks, looking over his shoulder as he sniffles, to the bag on the table that sits sideways, spilling with snacks and a pack of apples. 

"Some of your favorites," Namjoon responds, rubbing his palms up and down Yoongi's arms.

Yoongi wriggles around and scrambles onto his feet, hobbling over to the table. In addition to being a round, heavy baby conduit, he feels emotionally off-kilter. Spiritually, even. 

He bends a moment and groans, finding the bag just out of reach. But before he can complain or ask for help, Namjoon is behind him – warm palm against the small of his back and reaching around him for the bag. When it is lifted to Yoongi, Namjoon stays close, wrapping him in a back hug and resting his chin on Yoongi's shoulder. 

"Was the fact that I was nice to you the only reason you remembered what I said?" Namjoon asks, gently rubbing his lips over the mark on the junction of Yoongi's shoulder and neck.

Yoongi's eyelids flutter closed, and he shakes his head, gripping the grocery bag handles tight while his body sways with affection. 

"I never forgot what you said because, after that moment, I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Oh?" Namjoon asks, surprise in his tone. 

Yoongi nods. "You were so…handsome. So considerate. And you smelled…" he trails off and smiles at the thought of Namjoon scaring off his bullies so many years ago. "...amazing."

"So all this time…" Namjoon trails off with a chuckle. "I could have had you in my arms all these years, and I had no idea."

Myriad emotions kick up in Yoongi's guts, with frustration and worry at the forefront. "I could have known what it feels like to be loved by you," he says as his eyelids flutter shut and tears continue to build and fall. 

When he feels the tug of the grocery bag handles, Yoongi releases, allowing it to be taken away. He hears Namjoon set it on the bed, feeling his body shuffle and twist behind him. Namjoon takes Yoongi by the shoulders and spins him around, pulling him close, so their tummies touch. 

"My silly little omega," Namjoon teases as he thumbs at Yoongi's tears. 

Yoongi opens his eyes to find his alpha smiling soft and wide, and he feels his heart crack just a little deeper, leaving his chest in the form of a huff. 

"You already do know what it feels like to be loved by me," Namjoon says. 

With a knuckle, Namjoon softly lifts Yoongi's chin. As he slots their lips together, Namjoon smiles, eyes still open, which Yoongi stares into despite being so close they are smudges in the form of deep brown discs.

"Handling our…situation…" Namjoon says, trailing off to press kiss after soft kiss against Yoongi's lips, "it won't be easy." Another kiss, and Yoongi's cheeks begin to burn. "But I don't want to lose you. And as much as Wheein will hate losing the big house and man-servant she did not earn, I'm sure she'll be fine. Maybe her family can marry her off to someone who actually loves her, this time."

"You don't want to be made a spectacle of," Yoongi responds somewhat indignantly. Namjoon's considerations do assuage some of his fears, but he remembers conversations they had months ago, and he has a hard time believing that Namjoon has had a complete change of heart, already. After all, Namjoon has the most to lose. The adversity he could face is nothing compared to what Yoongi might experience.

Namjoon shrugs. "My term ends next year. Perhaps I won't run again."

At this, Yoongi frowns. Although he and Namjoon have not spoken too extensively about his profession, he has come to learn that the alpha enjoys being a public servant, and that the work he does makes a positive impact. There should be more leaders like Namjoon.

"We'll take it one day at a time," Namjoon says, planting a kiss on the tip of Yoongi's nose, which Yoongi scrunches as he turns his face away; he does not need Namjoon kissing his snot and tears. "You made a good point, before; perhaps setting a positive example about boundaries and divorce is something I can help normalize."

"And if the public shames you?" Yoongi asks, unconvinced that Namjoon has given the situation enough consideration. 

Namjoon releases the hug and plops back down on the bed, reaching for the bag and dumping its contents onto the mattress. Yoongi's stomach loudly growls at the sight of shrimp chips, and he sits on the other side of the pile, reaching for his prize. 

"I'll worry about my image," Namjoon responds, grabbing an apple. "You just worry about bringing a healthy baby into the world. And if you feel uncertain about raising them, we can always hire a nanny. Maybe Jeongguk is good with children."

Yoongi chuckles and opens the bag of shrimp chips with a smile. He imagines a life back in the hanok – in a home with more than two rooms. A nice, open building with more than one window. And although it seems like too big of a situation to be hopeful about, he allows himself to dream, just a little. 

The morning Yoongi wakes to his water breaking, he is in the bungalow alone. 

Yoongi struggles to sit up in bed, anchoring his palms against the mattress as he lifts his chest and stomach upward, sighing heavily. His cell phone is on the mattress, and he presses the power button on, revealing that it is 6:13 AM. 

His thumbs are swollen and slow as he opens his contacts and finds Namjoon's name. The alpha answers on the second ring. 

"Yoongi?" he asks, voice groggy on the line. He chose to stay in the hanok last night because he had a really early morning and did not want to have to wake Yoongi…a lot of good that did. 

"My water broke," Yoongi croaks, voice rough from disuse. 

Yoongi hears a gasp, followed by the line going dead, and he chuckles softly, shaking his head. He can only imagine the panicked expression on Namjoon as he tears clumsily through the home to alert Jeongguk and make sure their bag is packed and ready to go – despite having checked it several times in the past few weeks. 

The plan had been for Jeongguk to drive Yoongi to the hospital and be at his side, and Yoongi is surprised when Namjoon pulls the door open wide. His short dark hair is disheveled, possibly from pulling on the black hoodie he wears over grey slacks. He has a mask around his chin and sunglasses tucked into the front of his sweater, and Yoongi wonders if he plans on joining him, incognito. 

Before Yoongi has a chance to get to his feet, Namjoon is by his side, arm around his waist, pulling him to stand. Calming citrus musk fills the space, and Yoongi's heart pounds excitedly in his chest. 

"Alright, pretty Yoongi," Namjoon says as they begin walking toward the door to where Jeongguk waits in a black sweater and matching joggers, holding a duffle bag in one hand and a set of car keys in the other. "Let's go deliver our baby."

the enddddd!!! ahhhhhh!!! i know this may be too open of an ending for some people's liking, but as mentioned, i literally ran out of space. the fest had a limitation of 40k. sorry, friends lmao. they live happily ever after, okay??? we love to see it. the end. 😍

thank you so much for reading!!! reblogs and comments are the lifeblood of this hellsite and likes are appreciated too!!! i love you!!!

tags: @codeinebelle @dasexydevitt13@giriiboyy@mgthecat​ @moonleeai@m1sss1mp@spookyminyunki @sumzysworld @yoongoboongo0

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One Day at a Time is copyright 2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. 

[gffa]

Last time I went about five months between doing a set of STAR WARS fic recs, this time it’s only been three months! Hurrah! It helps that, as always, this fandom puts out an incredible amount of excellent fic, so I feel like I’m never hurting for fics I want to yell about and shove at people, which is something I continue to appreciate as it often feels like so much of the world is such a huge tire fire. It helps to be able to find fics to retreat into, to have fun with, to express joy and creativity with, and so many of the authors in this fandom are just so good at this! To the point that these sets sometimes take awhile because there are always more fics I want to add, until the post starts threatening to be overly long instead of a decent length–in my defense, no seriously, you guys are just too good! Also, I forced myself to stop at 69 fic recs, because yes I do think it’s funny. (Nice.) STAR WARS FIC RECS: PREQUELS RECS: ✦ a comedy in four acts by jesuisdeux, obi-wan & dooku & yoda & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 4k    This was what time-travel is: staring at the dark sockets of skulls everywhere your gaze lands on. Being haunted by ghosts long gone. The apprehension of the slow yet sure approach of the inevitable which is sending chills down your spine. ✦ No Rest for the Weary by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & jedi & ocs, 61k    Needing a break from life at the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, visit a Jedi AgriCorps settlement on the Midrim planet of Helia. There they encounter new friends, new enemies and have new adventures, all while attempting to navigate their sometimes turbulent relationship as Master and Padawan. ✦ Stars of Tatooine by Be_Right_Back, ahsoka & kanan & mace & rex & obi-wan & cast, 10.5k    After the end of the world, Ahsoka more or less kidnaps a child, has to air some old grievances, and tries to find whatever peace the universe can still offer. All paths in the Force lead home, eventually. ✦ Festival of Light by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, 8.7k    During his first year at the Jedi Temple, Anakin learns that even the Jedi celebrate holidays. ✦ the master, the padawan, the Force by skatzaa, depa & caleb, 1.4k    Caleb expects things to be different after Master Depa takes him as her padawan, but really, it feels like nothing really changes. ✦ desecrate my lungs by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme & cast, 16k wip    Time-travel fix-it in which Mustafar haunts Anakin decades after it happened and years before it would. ✦ Grace by dismantlingsummer, obi-wan & anakin, 2.3k    Shortly after Mustafar, Anakin realizes what he has done. He finds Obi-Wan to beg for death. ✦ Fifth Migration by wrennette, yoda & mace & obi-wan & ki-adi & yarael & coleman & plo & palpatine & cast, 2k    How about an AU where the Sith’s Grand Plan accounted for everything -everything that is, except the fact that the Jedi temple is actually an very ancient spacecraft and the second word got to the Jedi about there being clones on Kamino, all Jedi are called back inside and they take off immediately? Just imagine the dear chancellor’s face… ✦ fill pages with scribbled ink by magneticwave, obi-wan/padme & sabe & mace & quinlan & cast, 9.8k    A year after the Invasion of Naboo, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi is invited by Queen Amidala to return to Naboo and participate in a rite known as the Night of Fireflies. Things kind of snowball from there. ✦ Mind Your Words by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin, spanking, 7k    Obi-Wan reminds Anakin that there are consequences for careless behavior for young Jedi on missions. ✦ (you taught me) the courage of stars by grumpyhedgehogs, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cast, 5.1k wip    Ahsoka Tano flees after a warrant for her arrest is issued, but not before receiving aid from an unexpected ally. (Ahsoka proceeds to go on a road trip filled with a bunch of strangers who all say the same thing: Obi-Wan Kenobi is much more than he has ever appeared to be.) ✦ they faked it (guess everything’s complicated) by katierosefun, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 4.5k    Ahsoka temporarily loses memories of the events of Obi-Wan’s fake death. To help with the healing process, Anakin and Obi-Wan have to pretend that they’re okay. ✦ programed to dream by ghostwriterofthemachine, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, body horror, 1.3k    The spaceship Comet-rider is the fastest, most efficient vessel in the galaxy, and is crewed by Separatist-funded pirates. Anakin Skywalker is missing. Unfortunately, these two things are connected. ✦ Unpleasant Truths by hellowkatey, obi-wan & anakin, 2.1k    Obi-Wan and Anakin are stuck in a room with one another while waiting for truth serum to wear off. ✦ moment’s silence by skatzaa, obi-wan & owen & beru & luke & leia (pre-obi-wan/beru-owen), 2k    Owen had long since resigned himself to trouble, whenever Beru got that particularly stubborn set to her jaw. ✦ hold gently and let go by shatou, obi-wan & anakin (pre-slash?), 1.7k    A troubled Anakin comes to Obi-Wan to discuss attachments. ✦ sun child by Ro29, obi-wan & anakin, 2.1k    (or; sometimes being so tied to the Force causes problems, Obi-Wan helps his Padawan as best he can) ✦ A Dinner Out by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & cast, 1.6k    Obi-Wan can’t get his young Padawan to eat much, so he tries something new. But trying something different has unintended consequences. ✦ Shades in the Desert by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & luke & owen/beru, 10.8k    Not even from a certain point of view did Darth Vader kill Anakin Skywalker. He wished he did, but the specter of the Jedi’s light escaped before he could finalize his fall to the dark. Meanwhile, Anakin is raising his son on Tatooine. ✦ somewhere along in the bitterness by CallToMuster, obi-wan & anakin, major character death, 3.8k    It was probably the twelfth day floating alone in space that Obi-Wan and Anakin realized no one was coming for them. ✦ Songs for Little Jedi by soft_but_gremlin, mace & younglings, ~1k    The initiates are having nightmares, so Mace sings a lullaby to comfort them. ✦ atmosphere level by softredscrunchie, obi-wan/satine & qui-gon, 1k    As a joke, Satine tells Obi-Wan she thinks Mandalore is flat. He doesn’t take it well. ✦ on sith holocrons and misunderstandings by billowypants, obi-wan & anakin & mace & yoda & cast, de-aged!obi-wan, 7.2k    or, de-aged!Obi-Wan has the same Force bonds as adult Obi-Wan, and he does not react well. ✦ Perseverance & Resilience by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin, 1.1k    In the aftermath of Naboo, Obi-Wan realizes he needs strength to protect his new Padawan. Growing up, Anakin needs peace. ✦ A Delicate Balance by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & yoda & jedi, spanking, 9.6k    As Anakin’s skills grow, so too does his penchant for getting into trouble. After a training mishap, Obi-Wan struggles with his role as Anakin’s master. ✦ mirror, mirror by CallToMuster, obi-wan & anakin, 5.4k    Obi-Wan has been rescued by Anakin after being rather embarrassingly kidnapped on the remote planet of Ilnuria during his investigation of rumored kyber crystals deep beneath the planet’s surface. …But is all as it seems? ✦ Mace Windu Appreciation Week by Redminibike1, mace & obi-wan & anakin & ponds & cody & jedi & cast, 12.5k    Set of unconnected ficlets for Mace Windu Appreciation Week, because he deserves it :) ✦ begin again as a quiet thought by skatzaa, obi-wan/quinlan, d/s, ~1k    Cool, smooth leather touched his jaw—gloves. Because of course Obi-Wan had thought of that as well. ✦ Drunken Lullabies by Siri_Kenobi12, obi-wan & anakin & siri & quinlan & aayla & garen & bant & ferus, 6.5k    “Do I really have to go to this thing?” Fourteen year old Anakin Skywalker dramatically sighed. “It’s sooo boring!” ✦ heaven knows how I love you by the_13th_battalion, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.2k    Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka are stranded on an unfamiliar planet overnight. They spend their time exploring the community- and maybe they get a little closer to each other along the way. ✦ A Reckless Padawan by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, spanking, 3.9k    When Ahsoka upsets Anakin with an act of reckless disobedience, it falls to her grandmaster to help her see the error of her ways. OBI-WAN/ANAKIN RECS: ✦ Too Hot by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k    Too Hot: A game where two players kiss without stopping and without touching each other. If one player touches the other, that player loses. The winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser. ✦ Nostos by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & padme, NSFW, 17k    Or, how Obi-Wan and Anakin discover that there are many ways to come home. ✦ to touch the light, darkest by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.9k    Obi-Wan begins to fuck Vader back to the light ✦ encode by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & padme & handmaidens & cast, 26.3k wip    Instead of being accepted into the Jedi Order at the age of 9, Anakin Skywalker became a ward of Naboo. ✦ Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs, obi-wan/anakin & mace & ahsoka & shmi & padme & cast, 31.9k wip    When Anakin Skywalker was nine, he left his whole life and mother behind to follow Qui-Gon Jinn to Coruscant and the Jedi Temple. When Anakin Skywalker was twelve, he left his whole life and Master behind to follow Mace Windu to the Outer Rim and away from the Jedi Order. When Anakin Skywalker was twenty… ✦ use my body to break your fall by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 44.7k wip    Obi-Wan Kenobi is too good at being a Sith Lord general of the Separatist army. The Jedi Council approaches Anakin with an offer he can’t refuse. These things are, actually, related. ✦ Over and Over by obiwanobi, obi-wan/anakin, 1.4k    “I love you,” he blurts out, loud and impossible to miss. Obi-Wan blinks once, twice. And freezes. The first time Anakin tells him is a mortifying experience. ✦ Exceptions by rinverse, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & mace & quinlan & cast, NSFW, modern au, 23.4k    Young and brilliant, Anakin is the mind behind JEDI Tech’s latest innovation. Obi-Wan is the company’s perfectly composed Director of PR & Marketing. And last night, they were just two strangers at a bar, looking for something quick and easy. But life had other plans when it crossed their paths again the very next day. ✦ Here There Be Dragons by Ghost_Owl, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, 10.1k    Anakin knows why he can’t shift into his animal form like every other Jedi. It’s because he doesn’t want to, it’s because he’s had a vision of what he would become, and he doesn’t want it. ✦ Waiting in a Sea of Stars by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan/anakin, ~1k    Stranded in deep space, Obi-Wan and Anakin wait for rescue. ✦ Tristitia by JSwander, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 5k    An alternate timeline where Palpatine focuses his attentions on Obi-Wan Kenobi instead of Anakin Skywalker after the attack on Naboo. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 11: Communication, What Communication? by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, mobster au, 7k    a 7k obikin PWP that is somehow a prompt mashup of a mobster au, an accidental sugar daddy au, with a soupçon of an anakin never left tatooine au, and a pinch of qui-gon was anakin’s dad au ✦ who a person truly is cannot be seen with the eye by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, spanking, 3.6k    Anakin purposely avoids doing what Obi-Wan tells him to do. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 12: Potidaea, 432BC, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, historical au, 4.3k    Here is a short smutty scene inspired by all those classics asks, Alcibiades praising Socrates in Plato’s Symposium, and this vase c.490-480 B.C. depicting standing, face-to-face intercrural intercourse between a bearded man and a youth, which as far as we can tell was the most common and accepted position for it in Ancient Greece. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 13: Minikin and Tiny-Wan by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 5.4k    Happy May the Fourth! In honor of this happy day, I have written the fluffiest, crackiest, vanilla-flavored smut imaginable. Based on long discussions on discord with tomicaleto about her adorable Tiny AU. ✦ to hold until brightness by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.4k    Obi-Wan feared that it drew out the darkest in him, to bring Vader to these flashes of light, but it was a trade he would make again and again without hesitation. ✦ May Be Found, If Sought by ghostwriterofthemachine, obi-wan/anakin & mace & quinlan, magical academy au, 2.3k    In which Quinlan, Mace, and Obi-Wan teach Non-Traditional Magical Philosophy in an institution rampant with academic snobbery and discrimination, something dark is stirring in the nearby forest, and no one is ever prepared for Anakin Skywalker. A small story about first meetings in magical academia. ✦ infinitely varied by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, modern au, 2.2k    Also known as Obi-Wan and Anakin teach a tiny program called A.H.S.O.K.A. how to be something more than lines of code via the power of linguistics. ✦ recipe for disaster by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, modern au, 9.8k    When Ahsoka tells Anakin she doesn’t want to learn piano anymore, Anakin is heartbroken. He doesn’t care about the instrument, obviously, but he’s practically in love with her teacher. Obi-Wan offers up a solution to their impending separation, and it’s not dating like any normal person would suggest. Instead, he’s gonna teach Anakin how to cook. Except Anakin’s a pretty well-known chef, and Obi-Wan is absolutely awful in the kitchen. ✦ Pretty Kitty by GayCheerios, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.2k    “Master, you always take such good care of me,” Anakin says, a little chirp coming after his sentence, as his thumb rests on Anakin’s plump bottom lip. ✦ As One, Into Eternity by Pseudonymoose, obi-wan/anakin, force ghosts, 3.1k    Death comes, but the man who was, and is, and will be Anakin Skywalker is not gone. And in the Force, he will never be alone again. ✦ does he make you laugh? by y0u_idjits, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cast, fusion fic, 3.6k    “Tell me it’s not about screwing the guy who’s screwing your husband.” ✦ Rotten Work by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, 2.8k    Obi-Wan: I’ll take care of you. Anakin, with bloodshot eyes and a broken back from hours of terrible posture: It’s rotten work. Obi-Wan, who needs to bathe this man for his own sanity and health: Not to me. Not if it’s you. ✦ afterimages by shatou, obi-wan/anakin, 1.3k    Mustafar is nothing but a bad dream. ✦ understanding is honoring the truth beneath the surface by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, 7.3k    Anakin asks Obi-Wan to take control. ✦ The strongest stars… by Tomicaleto, obi-wan/anakin & beru & cast, NSFW, 7.4k    The war’s end seems to be close, with everyone looking forward to it. And when Anakin is doubting himself the most, an unexpected visit arrives at the Temple. ✦ home has a heartbeat by izazov, obi-wan/anakin, 5.6k    Or: Anakin and Obi-Wan are together, but there are still some things left unsaid between them. ✦ turn back now (i’m haunted) by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & padme & quinlan & ahsoka & cast, modern au, ghosts au, 25k wip    Anakin Skywalker’s house is haunted. Luckily for him, Padmé knows a ghost hunter. Unluckily for him, it’s the hottest, most english-professor ghost hunter he’s ever seen. And extremely unluckily for him, he’s starting to get the feeling he understands maybe ten percent of what’s actually going on here, not to mention what’s at stake. ✦ game plan by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 11.2k    Or, Vader keeps capturing Obi-Wan during the Wars. Obi-Wan keeps escaping. It’s kind of a thing. ✦ Provocation by ToolMusicLover, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.9k    Or: Obi-Wan and Anakin attempt to navigate their complicated relationship with barbed words and wilful ignorance. It wasn’t going well. ✦ Languages by Crowgirl, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 6.5k    So Anakin pulls out a map and makes a list. REBELS RECS: ✦ The Scent of You by ambiguously, kanan/hera & cast, a smidge of nsfw, 2.9k    Everything changes after Malachor, and Kanan has trouble finding his balance. ✦ Heard It in a Love Song (Can’t Be Wrong) by ambiguously, zeb/kallus, 2.7k    Kallus can’t quite figure out what makes Zeb tick, but he keeps trying. ORIGINAL TRILOGY/MANDALORIAN RECS: ✦ A Discussion of Choices by Peppermint_Shamrock, luke & mace, 2k    Mace Windu has traveled the galaxy since the fall of the Republic, keeping out of the Empire’s sight and teaching where he can. Upon the request of a ghost of an old friend, Mace finds himself instructing Luke Skywalker, who is still reeling from the truth of Vader’s identity. ✦ staring down the barrel of the hot sun by magneticwave, luke/din & obi-wan & grogu & mace & cast, 25.7k    “Gone to a Child of the Watch, the Darksaber has,” Grand Master Yoda announces in his creaky little voice. “Peace, there is not, and yet peace, there must be.” ✦ Released by Peppermint_Shamrock, cody & rex & luke & cast, 6k    Nearly two and a half decades late, Cody’s chip is finally removed. Adjusting to having his mind returned to him after so long takes time, and Cody struggles with questions of his purpose of the past, present, and future. Fortunately, he does not have to struggle alone. ✦ A Tatooine Rainstorm by skatzaa, leia & luke & shmi, 1.7k    Leia meets a ghost. ✦ Dealing with the Darksaber by Peppermint_Shamrock, din & bo-katan & cara, 1.3k    After her recovery, Bo-Katan contacts Din to challenge him for the darksaber. Din is still very much not interested in the whole affair. FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE

[xpeachesncream]

lowkey (jjk) | 02.

⦿ boo’d up in the daytime

⦿ mackin’ & hangin’ in the nighttime

�� series masterlist

summary: in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.

pairing: popular!reader x nerd!jjk

genre: college au, fake dating au, friends (with benefits?) to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.2k

warnings: cussing, implied sexual content/mature language, kissy-kissy koo, mentions of a boner, mention of sex and cum, seokjin’s still toxic

note: posting this chapter a little early since it’s butter weekend, plus the last part of liquid courage should be up sat/sun. still sticking to my schedule in my faq though, srry loves! i’ll do my best to update as soon as i can. 💗

tags: @taegularities​ @jimidol​ @miinoongi​ @bluesharksandfish​ @ggukkieland​ @unicornbabylover​ @thebeebi​ @preciouschimine​ @ladyartemesia​ @moonchild1​ @jikookiekosmos​ @marcoazz2​ @kootaes​ @wearenot7withu​ @codeinebelle​ @bigbootyjoonie​ @thisartemisnevermisses​ @maichiverse​ @ppeachyttae​ @fairysunooo​ @secretlycrazyhummingbird​ @yukiehyukie​

"I heard you were in an accident last night, babe. Are you okay? I'm so sorry I got mad at you yesterday." Seokjin comes towards you, cupping your face to look at every inch, every detail. You move away from his hold, backing up to give yourself some space.

"Seokjin, I told you to stop calling me that. Jesus. I'm fine. Don't need you to check up on me."

"Are you really gonna keep that up? I said I was sorry."

"Okay, and? I heard you."

"Really, that's it? Y/N, why are you being like this? What's the real reason?" He follows after you as you make your way to the library. To say Seokjin was persistent is an understatement— he was persistent for the wrong reasons. Like, keeping you close so he had you to fall on when things went wrong with another chick, his safety net.

"Because this is done, I don't know how many times I have to tell you. I'm tired of you doing this so, please. Just go." You slightly turn towards him as you climb up the stairs.

"I wanna work this out with you. Don't push me away. Let me help." You don't respond. He watches as you adjust your bag strap and wave at Jungkook. Seokjin chuckles and grabs your wrist gently, making Jungkook suddenly hop on defense as he balls his fists. Like he could do shit. Seokjin would probably wreck his ass with those broad shoulders.

Still. He hated how much of an asshole he was to you.

"Wait, what the fuck?" Seokjin laughs his rare, deep laugh that he uses when he's caught off guard. "You're hanging out with nerds, now?"

"And if I was, that would be none of your business." You snatch your arm away while glaring at him. You shake your head and continue walking towards Jungkook, relieved Seokjin finally left you alone today. Probably off to tell Namjoon, Yoongi and his friends how much of a bitch you've been and that you actually left him to hang out with a nerd.

Sunmi knows you're being tutored. However if that wasn't the case, she would question you, but she never take their side on shit. She remained loyal to you, and always supported you through whatever. That's why she's remained your bestfriend until this day. The senior chicks Seokjin and them hung around with though? Questionable. As long as Sunmi was by your side and you by hers, you both didn't care much for getting close to them.

"Hey, sorry you had to see that." You say as you sigh and set your bag down alongside of you on the long table.

"It's alright." Jungkook replies softly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Thanks." You give him a tiny, tightlipped smile. "So, should we get right into tutoring, or should we talk about the details of our deal? I have all afternoon." Luckily, it was quite loud in the loud section of the library. No one cared much to listen in to your secret deal with Jungkook, nor did anyone care because it was Jungkook.

"I do too. I guess, whatever works for you?"

"Let's get this tutoring over with first then iron out the rest." He nods.

"Sure." He pulls out his notebook. "Tell me, what are you struggling with?"

"Everything." He does a small head tilt.

"I doubt that. I'm sure you understand some things."

"No, you don't understand Jungkook. I'm legit drowning. I don't know what I'm doing wrong or where I'm lacking." Jungkook simply looks at you, lips pressed together before he nods. You're not lacking anywhere, he thinks. You're really not. The subject is just shitty and the spawn of the devil.

"That's okay. Well, can I go over some basics? Throw in some tips?"

"Yes, please. Lead the way. I need you." You chuckled, but it makes the heat rush to his cheeks. He hopes you don't catch the rosy tint creeping up on them, so he instantly grabs at the whiteboard near your table and starts to go over the very beginning, the very basics of this semester's OChem class. Maybe a bit from last semester, but last semester wasn't entirely that bad compared to this one.

He didn't expect you to be all that engaged for some reason, but he should have known you'd ask questions left and right, taking the black whiteboard marker from his hand to practice what you've learned with him watching and guiding you from your side. You were always focused, always so determined. You were incredibly smart. Incredibly beautiful.

Honestly, Jungkook go on for days.

The both of you hadn't realized it was nearing close to 5PM and neither of you had really eaten much since lunch. You sit, feeling pretty good about your first session with Jungkook. You feel a little bad having kept him for so long over OChem, realizing you still had things to iron out with him.

[sunmi] 4:34pm: hey babe, not gonna be leaving for a bit. i forgot i had to work on this psych project with jennie. you okay with leaving around 6/7?

"Crap."

"What's the matter?" Jungkook glances at you as you continue to stare at your phone and scroll away.

"Sunmi isn't leaving until later. I'll probably be stuck here for a little longer after you leave." You put your phone down, now resting your chin against your palm, nails slightly digging into your cheek.

"I-I can give you a ride, if you'd like? Plus, we still need to talk.. about stuff." He shyly says.

"Jungkook, that's too much to ask for."

"It's really not a big deal. How far do you live from campus?"

"Maybe a 10 minute drive, the next exit off the freeway." He shrugs.

"I'm going in that direction too."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. We can just talk on the way home."

"Would you be willing to stop by for dinner? We can talk then. Maybe it can be considered our 'first date.'" You joke with a small giggle.

"Oh, sure. Yeah." He gives off a tiny, nervous laugh. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Can we get.. hm—" You hum. "Fire Wings? Down the street?" He almost feels intoxicated watching how your eyes gleam under the light, how they brighten and widen when you mention food. You were cute, and you didn't even know it.

"Only if you tell me what flavors you get." He tries to get smart, which makes you laugh. He made you laugh.

"Is this judgment day? Gonna see if you should call quits on our deal before it even starts?"

"Maybe." He goes along with it.

"Okay. Garlic Parmesan and Dragon." You pack up your things before shooting him a look.

"Okay, solid flavors." He nods. "I guess we can continue on."

"You're funny." You giggle as you both throw your bags onto your backs. You stay in your position until Jungkook comes to your side so you can walk by him. You don't know much about him, but he has a soft demeanor and he makes you feel comfortable. You had only seen him a couple of times across campus, not really noticing him much in class either. You feel a little bad knowing you didn't even try being that he sat behind you, but better late than never I guess? Maybe there was a reason for all of this happening. The way he tutored you today was insane, too— he was super smart, but broke it down perfectly, was patient. He was patient.

No wonder Dr. K loved his ass.

"What about you?" You picked up the conversation.

"I usually go for a dry rub and Garlic Parmesan."

"I haven't tried any dry rubs."

"You can try one of mine later."

"Okay." You suddenly remember to shoot Sunmi a text before she comes looking for you everywhere on campus. Jungkook stays silent beside you, allowing you to do your thing without being too overbearing or nosy.

But, he honestly can't help but glance a few times.

[y/n] 5:11pm: sorry just saw this, hitching a ride with my tutor. don't worry about me! ty ily, have fun working on your project.

[sunmi] 5:13pm: tutor, as in jeon jungkook?

[y/n] 5:15pm: yeah, he offered.

[sunmi] 5:16pm: okay, that was nice of him. if he tries anything tho i'll beat his ass. text me when u get home?

[y/n] 5:17pm: don't worry about him, he won't lol i will.

[sunmi] 5:18pm: kk love u b

"Sorry." You say, tucking your phone into your pocket. "Had to text Sunmi."

"That's okay. You two are really close, right?"

"Yeah, since high school."

"Cool." At this point, Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok are coming out of the café at the same you two are passing.

"What about you, where are your friends?"

"Um." He sighs, trying to avoid his friends obnoxiously waving and calling him from the distance. You glance over from behind his figure, chuckling a little bit. "That's them."

"Cute. You all are really close, too?"

"Ya, I've known Jimin the longest though." You smile and wave at them, causing them to gasp and whisper amongst each other with huge smiles on their faces.

"I'll need to meet them if we're gonna do this thing for real. Do they know?"

"Yeah kinda."

"That's okay. We should probably work on keeping it between us though." He nods.

"Okay, but. Can we save meeting them for later? They're a bit.. much." You smile.

"Sure."

"D-do I have to meet Sunmi?" You nod.

"If you wanna make this believable, yeah."

"She's kinda scary."

"Jungkook, she's not gonna bite your head off. She just has that look, but I promise she's sweet." That look, that resting bitch face. Really, you could be biased because it's Sunmi. She really only had issues if she felt disrespected. Other than that, she meant well. Same with you— you've been accused of being intimidating and having the same look but you don't mean any harm by it.

"Okay." Jungkook unlocks his black 2016 Honda Civic and pops his bag in the trunk. You do the same, while Jungkook goes to open the passenger door for you.

"Thanks." You smile sweetly at him. He climbs into his seat, hitting the button to start the car and sighs. The music in the background starts to play, and it sounds mellow, soothing— like it came straight out of a fairytale. His eyes widen as he rushes to lower the volume before shyly looking at you.

"Sorry."

"What, no. Don't be. What is this?"

"A Final Fantasy lofi mix." He begins to drive off as you turn the volume back up.

"It's nice. Pretty relaxing."

"Ya, it's nice to listen to after a long day." He pushes his glasses up at the light.

"Do you have family here?" He nods.

"I do. My mom and dad live about an hour away. I'm the only child. What about you?"

"Same. They're probably 30 minutes up north."

"Do you live alone?"

"Yeah, I live in a studio. It's actually my coworker's. She bought the space to rent it out. She lets me rent it for pretty cheap though."

"That's nice."

"You?"

"I live with Jimin. Our parents are close."

"What about your other friends?"

"Hoseok is dorming, and Taehyung would rather live back home with his family and commute. He's close to them. He'll crash at ours or Hoseok's from time to time."

"Are you close to your family?" He nods as he turns into the plaza lot.

"I suppose, yes. I'm just really quiet overall, so they think it's hard to read me sometimes." He parks and you watch as he shuts the car off with the same button. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm really close to my mom. Dad, a little questionable."

"Why, if I may ask?" He comes to open your door again, causing you to give him a small smile.

"He, um. Just got into some stuff." He watches as your body tenses while you fiddle with your fingers waiting in line.

"It's okay, don't think about it. I won't ask again."

"It's okay, Jungkook. Really. Maybe another time?" You look up at him and he nods. He stands way taller than you, almost at Seokjin's height, if not the same. He likes to wear baggy, dark clothing and doesn't do much to fix or style his hair.

He's simple, but in a good way.

You both order your food with Jungkook going first so he can grab a table afterwards. Before he could pay though, you offer to cover him for dinner as your way of thanking him for driving you home. You make your way over to the table he snags, Jungkook silently sitting at the high table with his legs pressed together and his hands clasped tightly on his lap.

"You okay?"

"Ya, why?"

"You look tense."

"Sorry. It's not everyday I have dinner with Y/N." You smile.

"Stop, relax." You watch as he slightly eases up. "So, this deal." He nods. "A month?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"We have to convince people it's real or else people will know something weird is going on." You look at his hand, now resting on the table. "You're gonna have to hold my hand and kiss me, you know?" He swallows the lump in his throat. Shit, he thinks. Don't know if I can actually pull this off?

A kiss?! Fuck.

"Y-yeah."

"When was your last relationship, Jungkook?"

"8th grade." Your eyes widen.

"O-oh, now I see."

"What's that supposed to mean? It's terrible, I know but I—"

"No, no, no. You're good. It's totally okay, it doesn't matter. I'll just have to teach you to make it look realistic and not.. awkward." You perk up again. "Not saying that you are though, okay."

"I know."

"So, are you.."

"Am I..?" He cocks hid head to the side in confusion.

"Like.."

"Just ask Y/N."

"Are you a virgin?"

"I don't know." You furrow your brows.

"Huh?"

"Look, this is gonna sound really embarrassing and I don't know if I'm even ready to tell my fake girlfriend about it."

"Just say it. We have to know things about each other." He sighs.

"I— ugh." He groans. "I did it with my girlfriend at the time. Or I guess my ex because we had broken up and this was sometime during freshmen year in high school and she came onto me out of nowhere at a mutual friend's pool party. But it was weird because we were just hormonal kids and I was just curious so I slipped myself into her only to slip back out right after because—" He's rambling, but you're doing your best to keep up.

"Because?"

"I-I, ugh. Y/N." He shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Are you really gonna make me say it?"

"Jungkook." You lean a bit to try and catch eye contact.

"I came right away." He says just as the worker puts down your food and takes the number from your table.

"Ohhhhhhh." You say as you nod slowly. "Okay."

"You can just run now." His head hangs low as he slowly slides his chicken over in front of him, causing you to chuckle.

"I'm not going anywhere. It's okay. Stop that."

"It's pathetic."

"No. Besides, I know you'll get better overall, and you'll find someone who will rock with you till the end. We'll work on this."

"Thanks." He says, feeling comfortable around you. You were quick to reassure him and smile at him, he felt himself melting in his seat. Yeah, you were too good for Seokjin.

"You'll have to come to parties with me. Club events. Events in general. It won't look right if I'm always going without you."

"Okay. Can I bring my friends?"

"Sure." He nods. "What do you do in your free time?"

"Play video games and listen to music. Read comics, manga. Build lego sets with the guys."

"Cute." You smile.

"You?"

"Hang out with Sunmi, or just watch movies on my own at my place. Read. Eat by myself. Explore by myself. I value my alone time."

"It's nice." Jungkook's familiar with it. Even if he had his friends around, he truly liked being in his own peace when allowed. "What about outside of the public eye?"

"Hm?" You hum.

"Do we hang out?"

"Yeah we can." You nod.

"Cool." He smiles.

"Is my car gonna be a lot of work for you?"

"Don't worry about it, it'll be good soon. Just might take a bit cause I need some parts to make it look brand new again."

"I really can't thank you enough." He shrugs.

"Only trying to help my girlfriend out." He boldly says, causing you to laugh.

"Confidence is peeking through already, are you sure you need me?" You joke. The rest of the evening, you continue to talk to Jungkook about pretty surface level shit— what you like, dislike, overall experience in high school and college so far. It was a nice, harmless conversation, one where you were starting to see how warmhearted Jungkook really was. How real and laid back.

None of the shit in Seokjin's group. It was refreshing, a breath of fresh air.

Once dinner had finally finished, Jungkook was on his way to drop you off. He had parked in an empty guest spot, offering to walk you up just to be sure. At the door, he took a peek at how clean your studio was, mainly soft colors of white and cream taking over, with plants scattered around your living room area. The hallway in was sandwiched between your kitchen area and another wall, Jungkook assuming your bed was on the opposite side of it. He awkwardly stands at the door, afraid of overstepping.

"Well, goodnight Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Hey, wait." You smile and come close to him. He swallows, his mouth suddenly feeling dry when he feels your breasts press against his chest. "First lesson— give me a kiss."

"Right now?"

"Jeon Jungkook, we're doing this tomorrow. People are gonna have to see this at least once while we're together." He nods and presses a quick kiss against your cheek. "Not bad, but a little longer?" He complies and presses another kiss, leaving his pillowy lips against your cheek for a little longer before pulling away. "Perfect. Now here." You point at your lips before crossing your arms.

"Y/N, I—"

"Don't be afraid, just do it. I won't kick you in the balls or anything."

"It's not that. I just don't think I'm a great at this stuff."

"Okay." You tippytoe and gently grab his jaw while you lean towards his face. "Just relax, okay? Don't think too much of it." He stays silent, doe eyes constantly on you as you continue to inch forward.

Sparks. Just sparks everywhere for Jungkook.

He feels your soft lips against his and he relaxes, moreso because he feels like he's lost all senses being this close to you. Taking in your scent. Kissing you.

"There." He stands still, still trying to process the kiss. "Not bad. We'll get better over time, but at least that looks believable. Just—" You put his hands down as they were about to fall onto your hips during the kiss, but they fell short. "Let it happen and hold me, okay?" You smile. "Night Jungkook."

"N-night." He stutters as he watches you close the door. "Fuck." He whispers to himself when he realizes he's now sporting a boner. "Jungkook, what the fuck is this?!" He continues to whisper to himself as he waddles down your hallway.

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Nineteen. The Bench Trio and Sapnap make Phasmophobia 10000% Funnier

warnings: swearing maybe, word count: 3.5k (not including pictures) 

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

note: wooooo last chapter before... the trip........ be excited >:) 

**********

Y/n grimaced in anticipation as she looked at Karl’s wide eyes and open mouth as he leaned against the kitchen counter. He hadn’t said anything in almost a full minute and she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take.

“Say something, Karl,” she mumbled as she tugged on the strings of her new, lime green hoodie. She stared at him as he switched between leaning his elbows on the countertop and standing up straight with his palms pressed to it instead.

“I... wh—what?” Karl finally voiced his scattered thoughts, cackling abruptly as he threw his head back and clutching his stomach. “WHAT THE HECK, Y/N?!” He stood up straight and beamed at her, his eyes darting to her hoodie and then to her face. “Dream sent you his own hoodie?? How am I suppo— what in the— WHAT? Is this one his?” His fingers gently tugged at the hem of the material as he stared at it, eyes full of curiosity.

Y/n shook her head, face burning at Karl’s joy and surprise. “This one is just the merch one he sent. His hoodie is… very obviously his.”

“What do you mean?” he asked cautiously.

Y/n laughed lightly before leading him to her room, where the maroon hoodie lay neatly folded on the end of her bed. Karl picked it up and laughed. “It has a Florida thing on it?” he giggled and shook his head, not being able to get enough out of the whole situation and his best friend’s clear embarrassment. “Why aren’t you wearing this one? Too shy to flaunt your boyfriend’s clothes?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she clarified quickly, sending Karl a sideways glance. “But I’m trying to… you know… preserve it.” And because she worried that if she never took it off, she would only get more and more attached to the boy who lived three states away, hundreds of miles from her. She preferred sleeping in it over wearing it around the apartment. It was more comforting that way.

Karl lost it. He cackled maniacally and nearly fell on Y/n’s bed, losing his mind at how stupid the two were. “Preserv—Y/N! If you just tell him you like him, he’ll probably give you a new one when we go to his literal house.”

Y/n’s face heated up even more as she hummed. “About that…”

Karl’s laughter stopped abruptly, wide eyes staring at the girl. “No way.”

Y/n cowered lightly, nodding her head ever so slightly.

Once again, the curly-haired boy acted like he won the lottery. “NO WAY! Y/N, NO WAY! You’re lying, you told him??”

A wide grin spread across her face and she nodded as she recounted the details to him, almost like telling a little kid a fascinating fairytale. Karl’s face was glowing the whole time, his excitement for his best friend clear in his toothy grin and bright eyes.

He nearly tackled her when she finished, her hands tugging roughly at the hoodie strings, but tried to compose himself instead.

“Y/N! THAT’S SO AWESOME!! Wait, wait, wait, so, are you guys, like…?”

She shook her head. “We’re not dating, we’re just two people who like each other who are going to go on a date in…” she paused to the check the date on her phone and her stomach fluttered with excitement, “like, a week??”

Karl laughed and wiggled a little, his excitement nearly bursting at the seams. “Please, can I please give you a celebratory hug?”

Y/n laughed and opened her arms. “Of course.” He jumped at the opportunity, wrapping his arms around her in a huge hug and squeezing tightly. “Wait a minute, I’m mad at you!” she pulled away and Karl’s smile dropped.

“What did I do?”

“You and George knew how Dream and I felt and didn’t tell either of us anything?”

Karl raised his hands in defense. “No, hold on, to be clear, Dream himself didn’t say anything to me until, like, a week ago. I only knew before that because Sapnap and George told me stuff.”

“What the hell, Karl!! Sapnap too?”

“Yeah, of course Dream told him stuff, they live together and are best friends. Why wouldn't he know?”

“You’re all traitors.”

“We were sworn to secrecy! Both of you made us promise to not say anything!”

“That didn't stop you from talking to Sapnap about my feelings?”

“Ah, but I kept my promise and didn't tell Dream… you never said anything about Sapnap.”

Y/n gave him a deadpanned look and crossed her arms over her chest.

Karl paused. “Does it help if I tell you that we talked to Quackity about it too?”

“WHAT?” she snapped, though a small disbelieving laugh chased her words. “What, are you all just talking about us behind our backs? You told Quackity and Sapnap about my crush but you couldn’t have hinted at it to Dream? Or told me you knew how Dream felt?”

“You think I didn’t?” Karl laughed. “I hinted to you about his crush all the time, but you just never believed me!”

Y/n paused, recalling all the times Karl was super encouraging, promising things would work out, and even the times Karl straight up told her he thought Dream liked her. She pouted. “You know that I’m stupid.”

Karl stuck his bottom lip out in a smile. “You are. But you’re also ballsy and finally admitted you like him so all this can be in the past and you don’t have to be mad at me anymore. Right?”

“I’m not actually mad at you, Karl. I am embarrassed that you've told them things I’ve said.”

“Oh, no, no, don't worry. N one of us really explicitly said things you or Dream have said. We all mostly just complained to each other about how stupid you two were being,” he assured. “Well, Sapnap is Sapnap though, so he did tell us some very specific things Dream has ranted to him about regarding you.” He giggled as Y/n’s jaw dropped lightly.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “No, I don’t want it to ‘be in the past’ anymore; I want you to tell me everything Dream has told the others about me.”

“No! That’s private information. You can ask him yourself on your daaateee,” he sang, making her face heat up more.

“I’m going on a date with Dream,” she whispered in disbelief and Karl beamed at her. “Even better, you’ll see him in person in exactly a week.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “That’s so soon. Karl, I’m going to faint or something.”

The boy just smiled at her. “You’ll be fine. Naomi and I will hold you up if you need.”

A few days passed and Y/n found herself with her tucked her knees to her chest as she greeted her chat enthusiastically. “Today, it’s gonna be intense. Today we’re playing Phasmophobia!! So if you don’t like scary games or paranormal stuff or anything like that, feel free to not watch and just listen or even close out completely. I don't want anyone to get triggered or be actually scared or anything.”

She watched as hearts flew by in her chat and she smiled.

“Yeah, don't feel bad if you need to leave! But if you do want to stay, it’s going to be super fun and probably very chaotic. Today we’re playing with Sapnap, Ranboo, and Tubbo, and Tommy is in the call but he’s not playing.”

“And me!” Karl said from beside her and she laughed.

“Oh, yeah, and Karl is here in real life because he’s clingy.”

“That’s a lie; Bugsy is terrified so she asked me to be here for emotional support.”

“If I wanted emotional support, I would have asked Naomi to be here instead. You get scared easier than me.”

Karl laughed and looked at her chat

“Okay, so, yeah, remember to leave if you need to and take care of yourselves but I’m going to join vc now!” Y/n unmuted in the call, announcing her presence loudly. She switched her stream screen to the Phasmophobia lobby where her, Ranboo, Tubbo, and Sapnap’s lanky characters walked around aimlessly messing with stuff.

“Hiiii,” Tubbo dragged out sleepily. “Are you ready to be spooked by the scary game, Bugsy?”

“Yes, I'm so ready.”

“The Scary Game,” Ranboo laughed. “Trademark.”

“Hello, Bugsy Games,” Tommy greeted robotically and she laughed, responding in the same voice.  

“Hello, Tommy Innit.”

“How are you doing?” His voice was monotonous and reluctant, almost like he was being forced to be nice to her. She knew it was all a joke between them though, as Tommy had come to her for advice about things before.

“I'm doing well, how are you?” she laughed.

“'I'm doing well’,” he mocked. “How pretentious of you to say.”

“TOMMY,” Sapnap called out. Her nerves spiked at the new knowledge that Sapnap knew more than she had told him about her feelings for Dream. Not that he would ever say anything on a livestream in front of tens of thousands of people, but it still made her nervous. “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO HER?”

“I'm not scared of you, big man,” Tommy explained. “I will say what I want to Bugsy and you can't do anything about it.”

“What about me and Sapnap combined?” Karl asked from her side. “We are the BugsyGames protection squad.”

“I think George is on it, too,” Sapnap declared.

“Can we be part of the protection squad?” Tubbo asked. “We can intimidate people with Ranboo’s height.”

“I'm the least terrifying person you will meet,” Ranboo claimed. “I am only tall.”

“I'm not scared of any of you,” Tommy assured. “I will continue to say mean things to Bugsy if I feel like it.”

“Okay, but you might be scared of someone we know, though. Someone who lives with me?” Sapnap hinted obviously. Everyone, including chat – who were spamming the name of that certain someone –  knew who Sapnap was referring to. Someone, who the mere mention of, made Y/n’s face heat up.

Tommy went quiet for a moment before mumbling close to his mic, “I'm sorry, Bugsy, you are not pretentious. You are actually a very kind person.”

She absolutely loved the fact that so many of their friends, joking or not, knew that Dream cared about her so much. Had it really been obvious all along, even to someone like Tommy?

“You're a menace to society, Tommy.” She smiled to herself as Karl laughed.

Tommy sputtered in surprise. “WHAT!”

“Are you guys ready to play?” Y/n asked as she went to the whiteboard in the game to start.

“Yes, let’s go!!!” Tubbo cheered.

Phasmophobia was eventful to say the least. Between Ranboo’s panic, Sapnap’s screams, Karl’s cackling laughter, Tommy yelling as he watched the stream, and Tubbo being blissfully unbothered by all of it, Y/n could barely catch her breath between laughing fits.

An outside observer might have thought the group was insane, and she felt bad for her chat having to put up with the obnoxious screams and cursing each other out, but it was the most fun she had had in a long time being able to mess around with this group of chaos she called friends. It only made her more and more excited for the upcoming trip, which was days away now.

“Okay, okay, I think I’m going to end here, is anyone going to stream?” she asked, still giggling from Ranboo’s latest bit involving him crying in the corner of the haunted building.

“I will be,” Ranboo announced.

“Then go start and I’ll raid you,” she offered, leaving him to thank her and leave the voice call to start his stream.

“Okay, thank you so much guys for playing! Wait, fit check?” she interrupted herself as her eyes caught the spam going through. “Chat…” Y/n trailed off with a laugh at the end. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but… you can’t see me. How am I supposed to give you a fit check?”

Tommy laughed from the other side of the call.

“Bugsy, does your chat not know you are faceless?” Tubbo joked, making her laugh.

“I-I guess not? Chat, we need to talk…”

“I can give a fit check for them,” Karl offered as he looked up from his phone. “I’ll just describe what you’re wearing.”

Y/n laughed but agreed.

“Do it, Karl,” Sapnap encouraged. “Feed the Bugsy stans. Then send me a fit check picture of you, Karl.”

Karl laughed. “Okay,” he said distractedly as he looked at Y/n. “She’s wearing, uh...”

“Can you even see her outfit or does she have the comforter around her like always?” Tommy asked, half genuine, half mocking.

“Actually, she doesn’t because she has her new hoodie on. So that, and just, like, black pants. And fuzzy socks.”

Y/n held her breath as she looked down and realized what hoodie she was wearing. The good one. Normally it was reserved for sleeping in, but she wanted the extra comfort it provided while she played Phasmophobia. Any hoodie would have done, but having Dream’s clothing wrapped around her body gave her an extra level of security that she was too embarrassed to ever admit aloud.

“New hoodie?” Sapnap asked. “Give the people some more info, Karl. What does it look like?” She couldn’t tell if there was malice behind his words or if he was genuinely curious. Did he know about Dream sending her one of his hoodies? They were roommates after all, Sapnap had to know, right? Especially since Y/n now knew that Dream told Sapnap a lot.

Karl looked at her with a huge grin, knowing exactly where the piece came from. “Yeah, super new. It has a Flori—”

“It’s just red,” she said quickly, giving Karl a wide-eyed look.

“Oh?” Tubbo asked. “W-why did you sound so suspicious? What kind of red?”

“Suspicious?” she scoffed. “What’s suspicious about a hoodie?” she paused before adding quieter, “And.... it’s maroon.”

“Interesting…” Sapnap said, his smile clear in his voice. He knew. He definitely knew.

The accusatory tone of his voice paired with Karl hiding his giggles behind his hand made Y/n pull her collar over her face in embarrassment. The action only caused the lingering smell on the material to fill her nose, but she wasn’t necessarily complaining.

“I have a maroon hoodie!” Tubbo related, oblivious alongside Ranboo and Tommy about the teasing going on between her and Sapnap. “What kind is it? Maybe it’s the same one?”

“Tubbo, you should not sound so pleased at the possibility of matching Bugsy,” Tommy sneered and Y/n momentarily forgot about the embarrassment of knowing Sapnap knew.

“Tommy, when we meet, I will personally make sure that you do not have fun.”

“Oh, I’m so excited for that!” Tubbo said obliviously. “It’s going to be so fun!”

Y/n glanced at her chat again and smiled at all the accusations that she was meeting up with some of the other streamers in the call. Little did they know how many of them were not only meeting up, but spending a week and a half vacation together.

“Me too, but chat doesn’t get to know anything about it.”

“Right, right, sorry chat!” Tubbo apologized. “You all are forced to stay out of the loop.”

“Oh, Ranboo went live, I’m going to end. I’ll talk to you guys later! Thanks again for playing!”

“Thanks, Bugsy!” Sapnap said. “It was fun.”

“Bye Bugsy…” Tommy dragged out and she laughed.

“Bye guys,” she said finally and muted, turning her attention back to her stream. “Thanks everyone for watching! And for everyone who donated or subbed or anything like that, thanks! I’ll stream again on Friday but after that I won’t be able to stream for a while, but I do have YouTube videos I will be posting so look out for those!”

She finally ended and turned to Karl after everything was shut off.

“Sapnap definitely knows about the hoodies,” Karl giggled at her expression. “Man’s voice was pure teasing, he knows.”

Y/n laughed and shook her head. “I know! What the heck. Thanks for hanging out with me, by the way.”

“Of course! I like hanging out even if I don’t get to play.”

“Even over your secret friend?”

Karl turned pink. “She’s busy. I’m also still not talking about this.” He stood up and Y/n smiled, dropping the topic.

“Karl, I was joooking.” She followed him out to the kitchen, where Naomi sat typing rapidly on her laptop, most likely cramming for an exam. Y/n’s phone buzzed from her pocket so she pulled it out and couldn’t help the smile or heat that made its way to her face.

Y/n excused herself from the kitchen — where Naomi was still typing furiously and Karl was now thoroughly entertained with something on his phone — to answer the incoming FaceTime call from Dream. She hit accept as she fell on her bed.

“Hi,” she greeted.

“YOU’RE WEARING THE HOODIE I GAVE YOU? HOW EMBARRASSING! HAHA LET’S ALL LAUGH AT Y/N FOR WEARING MY HOODIE!!”

Y/n frowned at his joke and hit the red end button underneath Dream’s face. Her screen defaulted back to her home screen before a new call lit up.

She answered again. “Are you going to be nice?” she asked, pulling the soft, red material over her face, leaving just her eyes to see Dream’s adorable pout.

“Yes,” he said softly. “Sorry.”

She smiled and released the fabric, showing her whole face again, which made the boy smile.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“I watched your stream,” he started and she scoffed.

“I know, how else would you have known about the hoodie?”

“Well, Sapnap also texted me so even if I wasn’t, I would have found out.”

Y/n shook her head as her face heated up with embarrassment. She knew the trip was going to be full of teasing from practically the whole group.

“But I was saying I watched your stream and it looked like a lot of fun. Sounded like you had fun, too.”

“I did,” she confirmed. “I love those guys, they’re awesome. I love how everyone just bounces off each other, it’s so funny.”

“I can tell,” Dream laughed, “I haven’t heard you laugh that hard before.”

“Oh gosh, did I sound like a crazy person?”

Dream smiled and rubbed one of his eyes sleepily. “No, well, maybe a little but, like, in a cute way.”

“In a cute way? So I’m crazy but in a cute way? Yeah, okay, Dream.”

“No, I mean, like, your laugh was just super loud and energetic but it wasn’t obnoxious or gross or anything, it was adorable. It’s probably the cutest sound I’ve ever heard.”

“You might be a little biased.”

He hummed as he smiled at his screen for a few seconds. “Maybe a little, but so what?”

“You weren’t supposed to agree to that!” she said.

“Secret’s out that I like you so I get to say things like that now, Bug. As long as it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, I’m going to call everything you do cute.”

“Shut up.”

“Cute.”

Her stern expression broke with a laugh and she hung her head. “Got any ideas about our date yet?”

He smiled widely. “Yes.”

“What are they?”

“You really think I’m going to tell you? Absolutely not. You have to wait.”

“Can you at least tell me what day? You’re not making me wait until Georgia, right? The date is while we’re in Florida?”

“So eager, sheesh!” Dream teased. “But so am I, so yeah. I was thinking maybe the 23rd? Since you guys will get here on the 22nd?”

“Oh, who’s eager now? The day after I get there?”

Dream pouted so she smiled and assured him that she was just as excited for their date as he was. “I’m kinda nervous because it’ll be the day before Christmas Eve, so a lot of places will be super crowded and I know you said you don’t like big crowds so we might have to work around some stuff—”

“Dream, I’m honestly just excited to see you. Anything we do will be fun, I promise. I’m just happy I’ll get to see you and spend time with you.”

His worried expression softened as it was replaced with a fond smile. “Down bad, huh?”

Just like that, the tender moment was ruined and Y/n groaned, a laugh bubbling in her throat. “What is wrong with you? You’re the one stressing out so much about a date! You’re the one who’s down bad.”

“Yeah, but at least I can admit it.”

She shook her head at him for what felt like the millionth time and sighed. “I can’t believe I put up with you.”

“You must like me a lot, I guess,” he said, pushing her to admit it again.

“I guess I do.”

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[tumbling-darkling]

The boy who lived and the professor that didn’t (for the most part)

AO3

During Harry's second year at Hogwarts, a strange and unexpected man starts teaching his Defence Against the Dark Arts class.

(A Danny Phantom X Harry Potter crossover)

Chapter 1

Harry took a seat in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, glancing over to Ron who sat beside him and then scanning the classroom for their new DA professor. He already met the man in Diagon Alley, blonde and very much interested in only himself. Harry shivered as he remembered being pushed towards him as people took pictures of the famous wizard and the boy who lived.

At least it wasn’t worse than a head of the dark lord growing out of the back of the professor's neck.

Well- Harry did thumb through some of the textbooks before classes started. He absolutely agreed with Hermione who was very vocal about the books- they didn’t actually seem to teach anything. Just spoke about the ‘many adventures of Gilderoy Lockhart’.

Maybe this will just end up being an easy class.

The door slammed open 15 minutes past the start of class, startling the students as they swiveled their heads to look at the newcomer, expecting Gilderoy Lockhart.

Instead a tall man with a slim frame and hunched posture strode into the room. He had messy black hair pulled in a very horrible and tangled loose bun with the remaining dreads lazily dangling at the man's shoulders, his chin and cheeks covered in unshaven stubble. His robe was creased and torn, his hat loosely hanging from his hand and his sleeves pushed almost all the way up his arms. What really caught people’s attention was those eyes. Unnaturally clear and bright icy blue, so blue that even in the bright light they seemed to slightly glow.

He quickly pulled down his sleeves as he walked past the students towards the front of the room, grumbling slightly under his breath about something Harry couldn’t catch. He tossed the hat aside, muttering more loudly about how ‘wizard hats are so stupid and impractical I’m not wearing that garbage’ before he turned towards the class.

“My name is Fenton- er Professor Fenton I guess. Since I’ll be teaching you about…” he glanced down at the podium he stood in front of, crouching a little as if looking for something before straightening back up. “Defense… Against the… Dark… Arts,” he said slowly and not very confidently. Then he whispered again to himself but just loud enough for some students to pick up, “they see me fight one god damn ghost and suddenly I’m an expert on all dark magic entities? I think I’ll fight Dumbledore after this.” He straightened a little, eyes looking over the classes.

Harry did not like those eyes lingering on him for half a second longer than the others. He didn’t like this professor looking at him at all.

Something just didn’t feel right.

“Alright, any questions?”

A hand immediately went up, and Harry knew exactly who it belonged to.

“Uh- yes miss-?”

“Hermione Granger. Wasn’t our professor supposed to be Gilderoy Lockhart?”

“Yeah- that guy. He’s a phoney.”

The class went silent before someone yelled out, “WHAT?”

“Guy went around, found Wizards and Witches that did cool things, made them forget it then took all the credit. Tried to take my credit and I hit him a little too hard. Now I’m here taking his place. It’s all over the news, you know. You can read the exaggerated details in there. Anything else?”

The same hand went up.

Professor Fenton sighed, “yes?”

“Why were you 15 minutes late? Shouldn’t professors be on time? And why do you look like you crawled out of the forbidden forest.”

“I fought a ghost. Then got lost,” Fenton deadpanned.

The class went silent.

Fenton then turned around, “well if that’s all, let’s get started with something I know a lot about. What do you already know about Ghosts?”

-

-

-

“You’re seriously more afraid of Professor Fenton than Professor Snape?” Hermione asked Ron. “He’s not even mean! Sure he’s grumpy but he doesn’t beat down every question I ask him! He even seems to be glad I’m asking questions! Unlike Professor Snape who just treats us like idiots for not knowing something.”

“Sure- he’s not mean or cruel but… he just freaks me out. Like how he just stares sometimes at empty walls! Or how the room temperature always drops the moment he seems to take a single step into the room! I can’t even hear his footsteps when he walks! He’s bloody freaky is what he is!”

“Well I for one am glad he’s our Professor! Imagine having a phony for a professor! Though he talks a lot about ghosts. Ghosts can’t cause people harm. At most they give a little scare but it’s not like they could cause terrible damage.”

“What about those ectoplasm based ones he was talking about? The solid ones?” Harry asked.

“Rare and unlikely. Ectoplasm doesn’t form in the magical world, Harry! The stuff that leaks through and hangs in the air is only enough to allow ghosts like Nick or Myrtle to hang around in harmless ways.”

“But he said he fought a ghost before he arrived in class! And he looked really beat up!”

“He said he got lost too! Maybe he just stumbled across a guard dog like Fluffy and made up something about ghosts!”

“What if it’s like the last professor though? What if he’s looking for another secret object in Hogwarts walls?” Harry hissed softly, “Ron is right that he just has a sense of oddness about him! I just don’t trust him!”

“Harry, you’re just paranoid from last year. Professor Fenton is normal. Now pick up your pace, we’re going to be late for our next class!”

-

-

-

Professor Fenton glanced down at Harry, then back at Professor McGonagall, “he has what with me?”

“Detention. You see, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley caused a bit of a fuss by driving a flying car in plain sight of several muggles, and risked exposing the magical world. As such, his punishment has been detention. I trust you can find some fitting work for him to do as he reflects on his actions?”

Fenton crosses his arms, his mouth tightening slightly into a grimace as his fingers slightly tapped his own arms. “This won’t be every night, will it?” He asked.

“No, we will be switching supervisors for a few weeks but you may also need to supervise Mr. Weasley sometime before then.”

Fenron let out a sigh of defeat, “well- alright. I’ll take care of it then.”

Professor McGonagall gave a curt nod before turning stiffly and walking off. Professor Fenton scratched at the back of his neck as he watched her walk off, then glanced down at Harry, those eyes seeming to search him for… something. Then that stern look relaxed into a lopsided grin, “So you were the one that made that stuck up ministry trip over their hats and scramble around in blind panic! I say, hats off to you young Potter!” He laughed.

Harry blinked in confusion at the shift in mood, then Fenton patted him on the back, “hey, no need to look so freaked out! I’m not gonna bite ya!” He began walking forward, and it took Harry an extra second to realize that the professor was moving and he should follow. “Oh, wait you probably are a little freaked out, huh? I guess my mood could have been a bit better this morning, I was just a little flabbergasted today. I was kinda rushed into this position, you know.” He shrugged, his hands shoved into his cloak’s pockets. He didn’t really walk like any of the other Hogwarts professors. He had this relaxed saunter, like he was more of a visiting relative than a staff member. “Say, let’s say your ‘punishment’ will just be helping me bring some books from the library to my quarters. There’s a lot I need to run through and a single trip would make all the difference.”

Harry nodded, finding it hard to keep up with the man's long strides. “So… you don’t like the ministry of magic?” Harry asked.

Professor Fenton huffed in annoyance, “not one bit. They are almost worse than observants!” Harry had no idea what those were. Another level of magic government? “They try to control every little thing. Don’t expose magic to the normal world. Don’t use magic to make technology without permission. Don’t use magic to save muggle children if people are watching.” His said in a mocking tone, “they have so many rules that are outdated or stupid. Never trust a government, kid! Especially a magical one!”

“What are… observants?”

Fenton glanced down at Harry, “oh those stuck up jerks? They are like the government of the ghost realm. Really annoying. Unlike the Ministry of Magic, they actually know how to find me!” He laughed.

“Ghosts have governments?”

“Oh yeah! They have more of a monarchy, the observants are like hermit wizards that only step in when they believe the world is in peril. Meanwhile the rest falls on the shoulders of the Ghost King.”

Harry frowned, “I’ve never read about that in the textbooks. Hermione says that ghosts are just harmless beings formed from souls that aren’t ready to leave the mortal realm.”

“Well she’s half right. There’s different kinds of ghosts, like Sir Nicolas and the Bloody Baron. They are more like echoes. Souls that cling desperately to this world but didn’t have enough ectoplasm to become a fully solid ectoplasmic being. They won’t leave for the infinite realms until they are ready, though many believe they are trapped here forever. More solid ghosts form in a similar way but are exposed to more ectoplasm, but rarely show up because natural portals to the infinite realms are sparse and in between. Well until about a decade ago.”

“Infinite Realms? Natural Portals?” Harry felt like his head was going to explode.

“Well, there should be some books about that in the muggle section.. Though some wizards would say it’s all garbage because muggles discovered and studied it. Just look up my name under the author and you should find some.”

“Oh… wait- did you write them? Is that why you know so much about ghosts?”

Professor Fenton barked out a loud laugh, doubling over as he clutched his sides, “Ah! No! No, I didn’t write them! My parents did!” He cackled. “Ah, yeah but I did learn from them. And a bit of field work. Tell Miss Granger to check them out too, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind having something to read. She reminds me of my sister in that way.” He stopped in front of the library doors, “Aha! I knew we would find this place eventually!”

Harry looked at Professor Fenton in bewilderment, “you didn’t know where we were going?!”

Fenton shook his head and shot him another grin, “nope! I’ve been constantly getting lost in these dumb halls. This place constantly moves and I absolutely hate it. Even the Infinite Realms make more sense than this castle!”

Harry stuttered, “If the infinite realms is where ghosts go, isn’t that like… the afterlife? You’ve been to the afterlife?”

Professor Fenton lazily shrugged and opened the doors to the library, “yes and no. It’s all complicated. I’ll tell you a different time.”

Harry stood there for a few more seconds as his brain tried to catch up with the information, and once he managed to close his mouth he chased after the Professor.

-

-

-

Harry glanced around the Professors room as he followed after him, arms filled with books that seemed to suspiciously be only about the Dark Arts. He’d never been to a professor's living quarters, at most he had been in some offices. Even so, it was not at all what he imagined a wizard's living quarters would look like.

First off, there seemed to be technology. He recognized a coffee machine on a low table, but it wasn’t plugged into anything. There was an odd box that looked like a slightly smaller television, it’s screen black and wires sticking out of it attached to a rectangular box with a lot of buttons on top of it and a small round device. There was also a radio, and a huge telescope leaning out the largest window. As Harry looked, he began to notice spaceships literally in every corner of the room. Different kinds as well, some would even move and blast off. The most amazing part was the roof of his room. It was almost exactly like the great hall as it rose into dark nothingness, but the stars were MUCH brighter and all the constellations had been traced out, some brighter than others. For someone who knew a lot about ghosts, he seemed to really like space. Then there were also some odd things thrown around, like a very weird looking thermos. Or a metal… boomerang?

“Just place them over here, Harry!” Fenton called as he dropped his pile of books onto a couch in the corner. Harry did as he was told, placing the books down a little more gently than the professor did.

“Professor… how did you get these things to work? Technology usually… explodes around magic,” Harry asked.

“Oh! Well it’s because I power them myself!” Professor Fenton chirped. “They don’t work the same way as regular technology. Again, I recommend checking out some of the notes in the Fentons books, they have a lot of stuff that works in the magical realm.”

“Why would you need it though? Doesn’t magic make up for a lot of technology?” Harry asked.

“Ah, but that’s where you are wrong you see! There is nothing in the magical world that is equivalent to the coffee machine!”

Harry blinked, “... what.”

“It’s a very important machine, Harry. You will depend greatly on it once you need to stay up for an entire week. But! It seems our time together has come to an end. Thanks for your help, Harry, and if McGonagall asks, tell her I made you scrub toilets or something,” he winked.

Harry grinned back, heading towards the doorway to go find Ron and Hermione. He closed the door behind and the moment it clicked shut, he saw a flash appear from under the door.

He paused slightly, but shrugged. Maybe a comet passed by on the enchanted roof of his room. He then headed down the halls to find his friends.

-

-

-

“Not normally invited?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded, “Ghosts throw death day parties like birthday parties, but rarely do they ever invite living people!”

“I see, so Sir Nick really wanted us to be there,” Harry pondered as the trio entered the party area. He immediately was hit with an awful stench, nearly gagging before he had to swallow it as Sir Nicholas noticed their arrival and approached swiftly with the widest smile they had ever seen on his face.

“Harry! Ron! Hermione! You all made it! Oh this brings such joy to my cold, dead heart!”

“Glad to see you as well, Sir Nick,” Harry struggled not to gag on the smell.

“Say, why do ghosts even celebrate the day they died? Isn’t that… like a very traumatic experience you would rather not remember?” Ron somehow managed to ask.

“Well, ghosts like to celebrate it to commodirate a start to a new chapter of our afterlife!” He paused, glancing across the room for a split second, “most ghosts that is, and the death day isn’t to remind us of our death. It more serves to encourage us to look forward! No one really wants to remember how we died. Never a pretty picture.”

Harry followed Nicholas’s gaze for the split second glance, then noticed a ghost he had never seen before. He ignored the smell (they would have to ask about that later) and nudged Hermione, pointing at the ghost, “hey Hermione, have you ever seen that ghost around the castle before? I don’t remember seeing him from last year…”

The ghost in question seemed so much stranger than the rest, he had a brighter glow, where he should have had legs, merged into what seemed to be a ghostly tail, drifting lazily like caught in a breeze. Long hair whiter than snow itself drifted around like caught underwater, and bits that weren’t drifting were braided neatly and lost in the rest of it as it constantly moved. The ghost had purple skin, pointed ears, green freckles dotting his cheeks and long sharp fangs showing as he laughed at another ghost's joke. He dressed like a medieval lord, wearing a delicately detailed black and white tunic tucked into a braided belt circling his waist, his ghostly tail completely black. Thick white leather gloves covered both his hands as he waved them around while he spoke. A white cape hung off his shoulders, but when the cape occasionally drifted to show the inside, it was like the ghost had taken the night sky and attached it to the garment. Thick fur wrapped around his shoulders and long and sharp horns that looked like ice circled his head like a crown.

Toxic green eyes that had irises that seemed to swirl around the pupil glanced at the trio and Harry suddenly felt very very small.

“I… don’t know. I haven’t even heard of any ghost that looked like him before,” Hermione seemed like she was at a loss, probably scouting through her thoughts and memories for any trace or mention of the unfamiliar ghost.

Sir Nicholas cut in, “oh! That may be because King Phantom doesn’t live in this castle! He’s mainly only here to visit for the year!”

Ron gapped, “... did you say… king? Was he a king before he died?”

Sir Nicholas frowned, “no, of course not! He’s the king of all ghosts! King of the infinite realms! The one who defeated Pariah Dark in single combat barely a year after he died! The youngest and most beloved king we ghosts have had in such a very long time.”

“There’s a king of ghosts? And that’s him?” Harry asked.

“That’s what I just said, my dear boy. Keep up!”

“I don’t want to seem rude, Sir Nicholas but… why is he here?” Hermione gasped, “if he really is such a powerful and imposing figure, doesn’t he have a lot of duties to fulfil?”

“Well, he told us he was technically here on business but that it requires time and an investigation that could take a few months. So he could visit and celebrate with us from time to time! He’s a very relaxed man, I assure you. Here let me introduce you all to him! My Liege! I have some friends you absolutely must meet!”

The King looked over and smiled widely, “friends, you say?” His voice echoed more than the other ghosts, seeming to carry across the room as he spoke. He then blinked in surprise and turned to Nick, “Sir Nicholas… you realize these three are still amongst the living?”

“Why of course! Harry is the Boy Who Lived! The first to survive the death spell!” Sir Nicholas said quite proudly.

The King drifted down towards the three, causing Ron to slightly flinch at his approach, his hands clasped together as worry seemed to etch on his face, “well, most ghosts don’t have a very good sense of smell or taste, right? Which is why we have all the rotting food out?”

“Yes?” Sir Nicholas still didn’t seem to catch on.

King Phantom held out his hand, producing clothing hanger clips made purely of ice, “The living can still very much smell and taste, and I don’t think it’s exactly the smell of roses and lavender.”

Sir Nicholas blinked, “oh. Oh! Oh Harry and friends, I apologize for forgetting such a detail!”

Harry, Ron and Hermione all graciously accept the clips, pinning them on their noses to escape the horrid smell. Then Hermione turned towards the Ghost King with a glint in her eyes, “wait- how did you do that? Ghosts aren’t this solid- and they definitely can’t use magic!”

Phantom chuckled, drifting back into the air as he pointed to the crown of ice horns on his head, “Well first off, I’m the king so I get some bonuses. As well as not all ghosts work the same. You should try listening to that Dark Arts professor of yours when he talks about ghosts. He’s quite knowledgeable about all things not living.”

“But- but years of documentation and research-!” Hermione tried to argue before the King tutted.

“Information is constantly changing and growing, something that seems pretty constant could change in seconds and turn your whole world upside down. Not to mention, many different types of ghosts like myself only became more common recently. Before, most of us were confined to the infinite realms, only ghosts like Sir Nicholas forming for many centuries and the different kinds rarely slipped out.”

“Well-, what changed?” Hermione challenged.

King Phantom sported a playful grin, “I d̶͙͉̓̓i̷̢̩̬̘̟̽ę̴̘̲̹̤͌̊d̸̢̳̞̄.”

He then turned and left the three on that note as he went to join other ghosts at the party.

“What does he mean by that?” Hermione huffed.

“He’s got an odd sense of humour, that’s for sure,” Sir Nicholas laughed.

-

-

-

Harry couldn’t stop his glare that shot towards Professor Snape as he accused Harry of petrifying Mrs. Norris and writing the bloody message that stained the wall. Before he could snap back at him that he did not do any of this, Professor Fenton seemed to almost step out of thin air to his defense.

“Mr. Potter was with me all night, he did not do this,” his voice laced with a chilling venom. Was he… lying for him?

Snape tilted his chin up, attempting to look down on Fenton who was no longer hunched, and instead stood tall at his full height. It was quite difficult to do as it turned out, Fenton towered over every other Professor in the area. “And who, pray tell, are you?” Snape seemed to almost spit.

A sinister grin spread across the tall Professor's features as he stepped in front of Harry, leaning menacingly over the shorter wizard and blocking his view of the student, “Professor Fenton, the professor of the Dark Arts. Accusing a second year of such a powerful spell isn’t a very wise take, now is it Professor Snape?” Fenton basically spat his name.

Snape glared back, “you would be surprised what Potter is capable of, especially the trouble he gets himself in.”

“How about you try not pinning the blame on a 12 year old child?”

“That is enough out of both of you,” Dumbledore stepped in. “We all know Harry was not responsible for this, as Professor Fenton’s defence is true. We have a healthy patch of mandrake roots that will cure Mrs. Norris of her petrification, and students will resume their classes while the professors investigate the issue. Now you three will return to your dorms for the rest of the night.”

Harry hesitated before he headed back towards the dorms, but didn’t fail to notice how Professor Fenton’s eyes flashed toxic green, or the wink sent in his direction.