#not that he ever actually for real protested to staying with them

[mettywiththenotes]

Stork's "I'm only with you until something better comes along" It's too late man you've made a connection with this team. You're the designated driver. You're already on the christmas card. Get found family'd idiot (affectionate)

[arcaneorphic]

Yours, Always

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Pregnant Wife! Reader

Genre: Slice of life

Summary: Snapshots of Remus and his wife's life as they welcome a new member to their family.

Word Count: 2683

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus stared dumbly at his wife for a moment—perhaps a moment too long, if the slight tremble of her bottom lip was any indication. He could see the tears well in her eyes and for a moment all he could do was look at her. The weight of her words settled heavily in his chest, pressing against his ribs, but he shook himself free of the stupor with a sharp inhale.  

“No, no, no, dove, I just…” His voice was quick, urgent, as if he could undo the second of silence that had stretched too long between them. “I was surprised, that’s all.”  

He moved without hesitation, ignoring the familiar protest of his joints as he closed the space between them, wrapping her in his arms. She was warm, solid, real. His hands splayed against the curve of her back as if to reassure himself that she was there, that this moment was happening.  

They hadn’t exactly been trying, but what else could they have expected? Rabbits they were, truly. A wry sort of laugh caught in his throat at the thought. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, lingering there, breathing her in.  

“I’m happy,” he murmured, soft but certain, as if willing her to believe it as much as he needed to. “I promise.”

And he was—beneath the slight panic, beneath the breathless, dizzying realization that their lives were about to change—incredibly happy. He loved his wife more than words could ever hope to capture, more than he had ever thought himself capable of loving anyone.  

And somehow, somehow, he had convinced her to marry him.  

More impossibly still, she had stayed married to him. Two years, as of last Friday.  

His arms tightened around her instinctively, as if holding her close might ground him in the sheer wonder of it all.

It was surreal, really.  

It didn’t feel like that long ago that Remus had resigned himself to a life spent alone—save for the steady, unwavering presence of his friends and the fleeting, hollow comfort of one-night stands (which he still cringed at if it was even so much as alluded to).  

Back then, love—real love—had felt like something meant for other people, something he could admire from a distance but never truly have. He had convinced himself he was fine with that, that it was easier, safer. It would have been selfish to condemn someone else to a life with him, a life marred by the ever present looming danger of the beast that lay just beneath his surface. 

And yet, here he was. Married. In love. And standing at the edge of a future he never dared to believe he could have.

Before this, before her he had thought the idea impossible, laughably so, but now? As he held his wife there was no other outcome, was there? All roads, all broken bones, all self-sabotaging habits, and bone-deep loneliness lead him here. 

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

In the passing months, a new version of Remus seemed to be uncovered—the hovering husband. If he had to endure another knowing look or remark from James, who had been the first in their friend group to marry and have children, he would lose it. Not actually, because despite James’ teasing and claims that ‘You’ll see. All those times you lot took the piss, you’ll see why I was the way I was’ Remus knew that he had a point. 

He hadn't expected it, hadn’t realized just how instinctual it would be; this constant need to keep an eye on her, to make sure she was comfortable, to anticipate her needs before she even voiced them. It wasn’t annoying—or at least, he hoped it wasn’t—but he couldn’t help it.  

Every time she so much as sighed, he was there, asking if she needed anything. Every time she shifted in her seat, he was ready to fetch a pillow. He caught himself watching her when she wasn’t looking, memorizing every small change, every flutter of her fingers over her stomach, every absentminded hum that let him know she was there, she was okay.  

And if he sometimes woke up in the middle of the night just to listen to the steady sound of her breathing, well… no one had to know.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ─── 

“Here, dove, let me.” Remus reached for the box of packed clothes, his fingers brushing against hers as he attempted to take it from her grasp.

Ever the planner, she had already begun clearing out their shared closet, making space for the new clothes she needed as her body changed. It made sense—of course it did—but that didn’t mean he liked the idea of her lugging boxes around while he was right there to do it for her.

His concern was met with a familiar, exasperated sigh. “I’m pregnant, Rem. Not made of glass.”

Remus winced, fully aware of how overbearing he must have seemed, but that didn’t stop the way his hands twitched at his sides, itching to help. “I know that,” he said, though the way he hovered suggested otherwise. “I just—there’s no need to strain yourself when I’m here.”

She leveled him with a look. Pointed. Unyielding.

“You do realize that I carry this baby every second of the day, right?” she said dryly. “You can’t exactly take that from me.”

Remus opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, brow furrowing as he tried to find a way to argue without sounding even worse.

Instead, he sighed, relenting. “Alright, alright. But at least let me carry the heavy stuff?”

A smile ghosted across her lips, amused but indulgent. “Fine,” she allowed. “But only if you stop looking at me like I might crumble at any moment.”

Remus bit back a guilty smile. No promises. He takes the box from her hands, purposefully brushing their hands together in a silent apology. 

“Sorry,” he hears her say softly as she follows behind him as he goes to store the box. “I know you’re just… helping.” 

The regret in her voice made his heart ache.

His girl—his beautiful, intelligent wife—had been caught in the relentless tide of hormones and mood swings, and he knew that she hated feeling out of control. She was always so steady, so sure of herself, and now? Now, there were moments when her emotions got the best of her, when frustration or sadness crept in without warning, leaving her raw and exhausted in their wake.

And the worst part? There was nothing he could do to stop it.

He could only be there, hold her through it, remind her that it was okay, that he wasn’t going anywhere. That he loved her, even when she snapped at him for hovering, even when she got teary-eyed over things she would normally brush off.

“I know it’s frustrating, dove,” he murmured as he set the box haphazardly on their bed. He brushes a strand of hair from her face. “But you don’t have to be sorry. Not with me.”

Her lower lip trembled, and without a word, she melted into his arms, burying her face against his chest. He held her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, hoping—praying—that it was enough.

“I don’t know why I’m being so short with you,” she admits, her voice wavering in a way that makes Remus want to fall to his knees. “It’s like… I know when I’m doing it, but I can’t stop it.”

Her brows knit together, frustration warring with guilt in her expression, and damn it, he hates this—hates that she feels the need to explain herself to him, as if he’d ever hold it against her.

“Love,” he breathes, cupping her face with careful hands, his thumbs brushing against the apples of her cheeks. “You don’t have to explain it to me. Never to me.”

She lets out a shaky exhale, but he isn’t done—not when she looks like she’s one more intrusive thought away from crumbling.

“Your body is literally growing a person,” he reminds her, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “That’s bound to come with a few… hiccups. Not to mention you’re carrying my kid. Little bugger’s probably already taking after me—moody, stubborn, a bit of a menace.”

That earns him a soft huff—not quite a laugh, but close enough that he takes it as a win. She sniffs, shaking her head. "Oh, definitely stubborn. That much I can already tell."

Remus grins, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "See? You don’t stand a chance. It’s not your fault, it’s ours—we’ve created a tiny menace, and now we just have to deal with the consequences."

Her lips twitch, fighting back a smile, and when she finally leans into him, resting her forehead against his chest, Remus exhales, relief settling deep in his bones.

"I love you," she murmurs, voice muffled against his shirt.

"I love you too, dove," he whispers, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "Always."

“I just don’t want you to think I—” She says after a moment of silence. She swallows hard, glancing away, but Remus doesn’t let her.

“I know,” he says firmly. “And I don’t.”

She stares at him for a long moment, searching his face, and whatever she finds there must be enough, because her shoulders finally relax.

“Okay,” she murmurs, voice still small but no longer breaking.

Remus presses a kiss to her forehead, lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “Okay.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

If Remus was bad, his mother was worse. Not that he could really blame her—not when this was her first grandchild, not when she had spent so many years worrying about whether Remus would ever let himself have this kind of life. And certainly not when his wife refused to let him.

“She’s excited, Rem,” she reminded him for what had to be the hundredth time, watching in amusement as he pinched the bridge of his nose while reading the latest letter from Hope Lupin—this one detailing her thoughts on nursery colors, prenatal vitamins, and the importance of playing classical music to the baby.

“I know she’s excited,” he sighed, dropping the letter onto the table. “I just wasn’t expecting her to be… this involved.”

His wife snorted, resting a hand over her growing bump. “Remus, she’s knitting an entire wardrobe for a baby that isn’t even born yet. You should’ve seen this coming.”

He groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. “She wants to come stay with us for a month after the birth.”

“And?” she said, arching a brow.

Remus spluttered. “And? Dove, we will have a newborn—I think that’s enough chaos without my mother hovering over our shoulders every second of the day.”

His wife just gave him a look—the kind that told him she had already made up her mind and that he’d best get on board. “Rem, she raised you practically on her own. I think she knows what she’s doing.”

Remus groaned again, flopping back against the couch. He knew she was right—of course she was—but that didn’t mean he was ready to surrender.

Still, as his wife reached over and laced her fingers through his, he sighed in resignation.

"Fine," he muttered. "But if she starts critiquing my diaper-changing technique, I'm kicking her out."

His wife only laughed. "Sure you are, love. Sure you are."

In the end, Remus was glad his mother was there.

He would take every bit of her fussing, her hovering, her insistent need to tidy up and make sure they were eating properly, if it meant easing his wife’s load. The birth had been long, it had been difficult, and even now, days later, Remus still felt the lingering fear clawing at the edges of his mind. He didn’t know what he would have done without another pair of hands to help keep him, his wife, and their home from falling apart.

He had anticipated the care their newborn would need. He had braced himself for sleepless nights, for endless cries, for the overwhelming weight of responsibility that came with holding something so small and fragile in his arms.

What he hadn’t anticipated—foolishly so—was the care his wife would need.

She had always been so steady, so sure, so insistent that she would be ‘be just fine Remus’. And Remus, against his better judgment, had let himself believe her. But when she wasn’t fine—when exhaustion stole the light from her eyes, when the pain left her trembling, when she blinked back tears she wouldn’t allow to fall—Remus felt like the world might end. She was, she is, and she would continue to be—the love of his life until the moment he took his last breath. And likely even well after that.

There was no universe, no version of himself, where she wasn’t it for him. No force of time or fate could unravel the way he loved her, the way she had settled so firmly into every fiber of his being.

He hated feeling useless, hated that he couldn’t take the discomfort and exhaustion from her, couldn’t erase the toll that carrying and delivering their child had taken on her body.

So he did what he could.

He helped her sit up when her muscles ached, massaged the tension from her shoulders, and made sure she had food and water within reach. He held her when the weight of exhaustion and shifting hormones became too much, when the tears came without warning and she could do nothing but curl into him and cry.

He didn’t try to fix it, didn’t tell her to stop, didn’t offer empty reassurances. He just held her, pressing slow, steady kisses to her hair, rubbing soothing circles into her back until the sobs faded into soft, hiccupping breaths.

He woke with the baby before she could, careful and quiet, shushing her protests before she could push herself up. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, brushing his fingers gently along her cheek.

“Sleep, dove. I’ve got them.”

The days blurred together, the way they did when sleep deprivation and the chaos that accompanied the arrival of a newborn took hold.

Time lost its structure, marked only by the rhythm of feedings, diaper changes, and the soft, drowsy moments in between. Morning and night bled into one another, exhaustion settling deep in Remus’s bones, but he hardly cared.

Because in between the haze, there were moments—precious moments.

His wife, half-asleep, cradling their baby against her chest, humming softly under her breath. Tiny fingers curling around his own, impossibly small and impossibly perfect. Late-night whispers exchanged in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, where love was spoken through touch more than words.

It was chaos, yes. But it was theirs. And Remus wouldn’t trade it for the world.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

"Thank you," he had whispered into her hair one night after returning from putting their child back to bed.

Time had passed far too quickly. One day, they were bringing home the smallest, most fragile thing to ever grace the planet—tiny fingers, sleepy yawns, and a warmth that settled deep in his chest every time he held them. The next, they were wrangling a two-year-old with boundless energy and an undeniable streak of mischief, one that had clearly taken after their father.

There was never a moment of peace. Their little one was always running, always climbing, always finding new and inventive ways to nearly give Remus a heart attack. And as exhausting as it was, he wouldn’t change a second of it.

Because for every near disaster, there were sticky-fingered hugs and delighted giggles. There were quiet moments, like now, when he could steal a breath with his wife and hold her close, even as the knowledge settled in his bones—this wouldn’t last forever.

Their child would keep growing, keep changing, and one day, they wouldn’t need him in the same way.

So Remus clung to this moment, to her, pressing a lingering kiss to her temple as he murmured once more, “Thank you.”

Masterlist

[miange1]

I NEED MORE BRIAN MOSER AHHHH

Brian Moser, with a lover that's "too sweet"

male leaning reader, brian is a freak, being nervous more than shy, arguments, accidental guilt tripping, manipulation(at first), reader gives off innocence but they're not they're just a virgin, fake names, being overly touchy, blow jobs

note: had an idea so i just used this ask as an excuse to finally post it. also if you notice typos no you don't im not fixing them

— You were his first actual relationship in which didn't involve murder or trying to get closer to Dexter. Or so he remembers, he probably had that intention at first yet completely forgot about it due to his own feelings.

— Meeting you felt like a bunch of perfumes and flowers were thrown at his face— you were smiling and speaking with him like he was your long lost friend or your boyfriend, like you knew him since forever.

"Oh! Rudy!" He instantly felt his heart speed up, feeling more nervous than he's ever been in his entire life and you weren't even calling out his real name. He needs to calm down, seriously he's sweating way too much.

"I missed you so much, how have you been?" He felt your arms wrap around him tightly, yet ater the hug your hands took his and held them as if they were the most delicate things in the world, besides you.

The man could barely get his words out, stuttering every now and then and looking away from you often. Your thumb was swiping softly over the top of his knuckles, why were you looking at him like that.

— Getting with you was the most romantic thing he has ever thought of. Taking you out to a place where it was peaceful yet beautiful, and he could confess to you and actually mean it.

— It was the best place he could find, it was hot but lovely. When he confessed, you stayed quiet for far too long and he thought you didn't want him. You were just in so much shock, it's been a bit since someone was this genuine to you.

— Floating on air is what he felt like each time he was with you. When you were able to visit his work, you showed him with kisses each and every single time even after arguments which was something he would have a heavy weight on his shoulders about.

"Debra doesn't at all have a thing for me, what the hell are you talking about!" You were blinking back heavy tears trying to see his side as best as you could, yet everything just went a bit too far. From understanding to a plain bicker.

"It's obvious she does, and she's in your office more than I am!" He rolled his eyes, his fingers on his nose and pinching the bridge. He knew Debra had a thing for him, but what he didn't know was why he lied seeing you fight for him like this. He liked seeing you get jealous.

"Because it's her job." Yet you protested, "I understand that but.." you couldn't get the rest out, starting to cry and you instantly felt embarrassed. "Sorry— shit, I'm sorry.." His upset look rested, sighing as he went closer to you for an embrace.

"No, it's my fault." He admitted, his arms squeezing your frame in a comforting manner as you cried into his chest.

He was so turned on right now.

— Brian had a bunch in which you were a virgin, he just would have never guess he was actually right about it.

— All he wanted was a small make out for a bit, yet it had escalated and you were on your knees. God, you looked so pretty.

"Ah, ah, your teeth.. Good..that's it." He leaned his head back, the warmth of your mouth and tongue working at his girth. For your first time even giving head you were real good at following his directions. You did it just how he liked it. Tongue swirling, spit mixing with what leaked from him, it was heaven.

He jutted his hips forward a bit, catching you by surprise and giving you the urge to wanna pull back, which didn't happen due to Brian's fingers tangling in your hair— and pushing your head back forward. "Doing so well, fuck.." you practically weren't evenoving anymore, and if you were you had just been going ragdoll and moving along with Brian's pulls.

His dick twitched in your mouth as he heard a gargled moan, fuck he was gonna cum just from hearing that alone. Then he'd hear you whine, almost impatiently. "Hush you're fine, just keep on— God, yes.." eyes rolling back, feeling your nose poke at his pelvis the deeper he pushed you down when he came. Letting go of your hair, he let your head fall back a bit before he forced your mouth closed.

"Swallow."

— Sooner or later he would then wonder why you were a virgin in the first place, yet you did date people for long periods of time.

"I don't know, when I asked after break up they said they just couldn't."

— He got the hint for himself.

[inkskinned]

there's a video on instagram of a man kicking his partner's door in. the top comment is (with over 4 thousand likes): "how about you tell us what you did to make him that angry?"

barring emergency, nobody should be kicking anybody's door in. many of us lived in houses where it was always, somehow, an emergency. there is a strange, almost hysterical calm that comes over you in that moment - everything feels muted, and you almost feel, however incongruently, like you should be laughing. you are living inside of "the emergency." oh my god, you think. i am now a fucking statistic.

there is another comment with 2.8 thousand likes: "if this was a woman doing it to a man, nobody would give a shit."

do people give a shit now, though?

barring emergency, the door should remain standing. the emergency should be panicked, desperate - "i'm coming in there to protect you." many of us know what it feels like when the emergency is instead "i'm coming in there to get you."

1.5k likes: "and yet you post this for notes. glad to see being the victim has become your whole personality."

hysteria is a word connected to womb, from greek. what you're experiencing is so senseless and inhumane that you (a rational creature) try to find any ground within what is irrational and cannot be explained. one of the most frustrating things about staying in bad situations is that we also lie to ourselves. we also ask ourselves - wow. what did i do?

women can be, and often are, also abusers. abuse is not gendered. abuse is not just a "straight person" problem. abuse does not have a face or figure or sexuality. you cannot pick an abuser out of a crowd. an abuser could be actually anybody.

and then so many people rally behind the man kicking the door in. here is something nobody should be doing, right? you want to ask every person that liked that first comment: do you ask this because you side with him? do you ask this because it helps you feel safe from this ever happening?

in some ways, you're weirdly sympathetic to the top comment, because it is the same logic you see frequently. the idea is that the average, normal, sane person doesn't just break down a door. doesn't just shoot up a school. doesn't stalk and kill women. doesn't threaten sexual assault. doesn't run over protesters. doesn't shoot an unarmed black person. doesn't scream at underpaid walmart employees. doesn't just "lose it". something had to have happened, right? because the default (white. straight. cis.) - that is someone who is always, you know. "sane."

(right?)

on a podcast, you hear a sane, normal, rational person. "if you piss me off, i'm going to need to hit something. sorry but i'm not apologizing. that's just who i am that's how it is." his voice almost sounds like he's laughing.

you think of the door, and how you were almost laughing behind it, too. ironically, every real emergency in your life has almost felt peaceful in comparison. fire, car accident, flash flooding - these felt quiet, covenant to you. you'd stood in all of them, feeling them pass over and up to your chin, never actually overwhelming.

but when the door was coming down, you had felt - is there a word for that? there has to be, a word, right.

surely one of us has figured out the word for that, i mean. it's such a large fucking statistic.

[kaisaerinlover]

nagi seishiro

tw: dubcon manipulation kinda grooming kinda incel themes

one thing about seishiro nagi is that he does not care about anything. he doesn’t want to do anything, especially not get a girlfriend. the guy was looking seriously rough until he met your brother reo. reo fixed him up a bit, and nagi definitely got more in shape after meeting reo, you could say he’s pretty hot now. but he still didn’t care for girls much. honestly he’s, in the past especially, probably what most people could have defined as an incel. but he was fine with that ‘cause he never cared about girls anyway. girls are a hassle. all he wants to do is play video games. girls don’t bother him and he doesn’t bother them. so imagine his surprise when reo’s imouto suddenly takes a random interest in him.

reo and nagi always stay at reo’s place, ‘cause it’s easier anyway, now they actually have fans and people that care, and nagi’s place isn’t really the most protected. reo is off doing something else and nagi’s playing video games in his own allocated room. he likes it, it’s good, no one to bother him, talking with people is a hassle. until you come into the picture. you’re so sweet, so cute, and he doesn’t want to be mean, you’re the younger sister of his best friend, after all. you take an interest in his game, and he indulges you, explaining to you lazily the premise of the game and granting you with the oh so lucky opportunity to sit and watch him play. and you do, you sit next to his chair on the floor and watch him play for hours. nagi grows to like you, you’re not much of a hassle at all, and you’re not too sore on the eye either. you’re actually really cute.

reo notices too, and rolls his eyes and smiles at you whenever you pester nagi. he can tell nagi doesn’t care, and he’s glad about that. but he’s curious, why is nagi even indulging you in the first place? seriously, he thinks eating is a hassle, he can’t even take care of himself most of the time, so why is he willing to entertain the youngest mikage? to put it lightly, nagi is a bit of a weirdo, reo thinks, and he takes interest in the most random of things, so maybe it’s just that. and reo doesn’t think too much of it, he should have though, not that it would matter anyway.

you’re just so cute, nagi thinks. he can’t help but actually want to have you around. and you’re so pliant, so interested in what he’s doing, poor thing. nagi coaxes you to come sit on his lap whilst he’s playing, and god does it feel good. he prays you don’t notice his hard on, but you’re so engrossed in watching him play he guesses you didn’t. but it’s still a hassle, you know. these feelings of want towards you, he’s not going to put in that much effort, seriously, that’s a lot of work, and he doesn’t have such a drive. but reo does. reo will do anything for nagi ‘cause that’s what friends are for. nagi is his treasure too, you know? not just you, imouto.

and that’s how it starts, reo essentially gifts his little sister to nagi seishiro. and the funniest part, to those two at least, is that you’re none the wiser. you don’t even notice that reo purposefully leaves you 2 alone way more often now, you don’t notice how nagi feels you up as you sit on his lap until it’s too late. you’re his now, and nii chan isn’t coming to help you ‘cause he’s the reason you’re in this mess! finding out your brother did this is a stab in the heart, it’s only after you realise what nagi is doing and you protest that he hushes you and tells you. “sh, stop squirming ‘kay? don’t be a hassle” why would you stop being a ‘hassle’? is that all this is to him? he’s touching you in places you didn’t ever let a guy touch you before, and a hassle is all it is? “n-nii chan’s gonna- b real mad at you- sei-seishiro-“ you manage to stutter out between sniffles. nagi almost laughs. almost. laughing is a hassle. “y’r nii chan is the one letting me do this” he nips at your earlobe. “you’re mine now, ‘mouto” you sob again. how could nii chan do this? and how come he’s calling you that, you’re not his imouto you’re reo’s!!!

nagi can feel his arousal, and you can feel it too, pressing against your cute little backside. “ah, look what you did” he mumbles something else about it being a hassle to take care of. but it’s fine, not anymore, cause you’re here! that’s how you find yourself sitting on the bed of your big brother’s best friend and jerking him off between sobs. honestly, nagi is getting kinda peeved at you, seriously just cut it out. he won’t treat you bad or anything? are women always this annoying, he wouldn’t know since he never had one prior to this encounter. seriously, just shut up already. he doesn’t show his annoyance though, just leans back and let’s you give him a handjob. seishiro nii is the worst for this reason, he only cares about himself!

you gasp a little in shock when he finally cums on your hand. he’s panting and a little tired, but begrudgingly gives you a pat on the head “good job, next time less crying though, angel” he likes the sight of his cum on your hand, it’s cute really, what he’s done to reo’s innocent little sister. and you just can’t believe your brother would do this to you. seriously, nii chan is mean. you thought maybe nagi was bluffing, maybe reo didn’t do this after all, so you sneak out of nagi’s room whilst he’s asleep to go and ask. all reo does is chastise you and send you back. “no ‘mouto, you gotta be a good girl for nagi, ‘kay? now go back to nagi, or do i have to take you there myself?” he’s scolding you the way a brother would his sister over a broken toy, a little tantrum, not wanting to watch the same tv show, not this?

you reluctantly trudge back to nagi’s room, where he’s laid in bed playing games on his phone. just your luck that he woke up. when you walk in the room he doesn’t even look away from the phone, just hums as if to acknowledge your presence. “don’t leave again, don’t wanna have to find you. too much hassle” he pats the bed commanding you to come and sit back down without turning away from the game. and he knows you’ll comply, because what else can you do? reo won’t help you, and you know nagi can easily overpower you if he wants to. you’re pretty stuck, aren’t you?

he’s back asleep again in no time and you’re laid awake stuck under his muscular arm. this is the first guy you talked with, reo is usually protective, it’s so intimate what you’re doing with nagi, so wrong. you’re looking up at the ceiling with blurred vision from those tears stinging at your big innocent eyes. man this sucks. but it’s okay, you’ll learn to like it, ‘cause your nii chans are gonna turn you into the perfect girl for seishiro nii! good job on getting a little sister, nagi.

[windssong]

nightmares come true // logan howlett x reader

summary: you get hurt during an intense battle

oneshot: ANGST, comfort. Swearing, injury, violence

word count: 2k

I’m currently taking fic requests btw!!! masterlist

The bleeding wouldn’t stop.

You could’ve sworn Logan described this exact scenario to you before. Down to the very last detail.

A few times actually. It was only ever after you calmed him down from the nightmares that he told you what they were really about.

They were the same, each time. Sometimes the location or clothes would vary, but the outcome never changed.

They were of you. Dying in his arms. In a pool of blood.

Death was something Logan never had to worry about. His powers wouldn’t allow it. But, when it came to you, that was a whole other matter. He thought about it all the time.

When the nightmares returned, and they returned often, they filled him with so much fear it scared you.

He woke with your name on his lips. You whispered words of comfort against his sweaty skin. And wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck and told him you were safe. That he was safe too.

All those nights, you combed through strains of wet hair and held him close, waiting for his breathing to steady. Sometimes his claws would come out. Thats when the night terrors were really bad. On one occasion, they accidentally cut you. Logan refused to sleep in the same bed for days after that.

He would always ask you if you were okay after those frightful dreams. Every single time. And you’d tell him you were and hoped he’d go back to sleep. But you knew he stayed up. Afraid take he’s eyes off you. Afraid the dreams would become real.

Were you slipping into that dream now?

Kurt held your head in his lap. He pressed down on the right side with shaking hands, muttering under his breath. Something about God and healing. You didn’t really know, your hearing and vision were both fading.

He applied more pressure to your wound. The pain was so bad you wanted to scream. It was the kind of pain that made it impossible to think, talk, breathe, or do anything.

Your heart was beating for its life. The pulse pounding in your brain right where it hurt the most. It grew bigger and bigger. Your head was a ticking time bomb, ready to explode.

The ship shook violently, the battle outside raging on. You thought you could hear Logan shouting for where you were. But you couldn’t tell. There was blood in your ears.

You pleaded with the universe that Logan wouldn’t see you like this.

Another shockwave hit the plane. You winced from the sudden movement, your brain throbbing underneath a relentless force.

“I need… I need to help them.”

But Kurt wouldn’t let you move. You caught a glimpse of crimson on his blue skin and underneath his nails as he gently pressed you down.

“They’ll be fine.” He assured you. You were too exhausted to protest, your body sagging against your friend. “You just need to stay still.”

The constant rocking back and forth of the plane and the ground rumbling beneath you wouldn’t let that happen. But Kurt kept you as steady as he could.

Flickering red and orange lights illuminated the windows. Smoke billowed past, creating dark clouds. You noticed you couldn’t smell the fires burning. You could only smell metal. There was a man shouting at Kurt to open the hatch.

He carefully laid your body on his jacket, now soaked with blood. Your blood. You'd have to buy him a new one if you made it out of this mess. The thought brought a weak smile to your face. Kurt pressed one of the control buttons and the hatch slowly opened.

Logan couldn’t wait for the hatch to finish opening before rushing in, still asking for you. His black suit was full of holes but his skin was completely healed over. Dirt and specks of blood stuck against the sweat on his face and hair. He was breathing hard, the smoke from the fires making their way into the ship. He covered his mouth, finding the button that closed the hatch.

Then he saw you. Lying on the cold floor. Blood seeping into a coat pocket, body trembling.

Logan felt sick. Like someone reached into his stomach and rearranged everything. No amount of metal or regeneration could protect him from something like this.

His jaw clenched, ready to burst at the seams. It was a rubber band wound up too tight. “What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know.” Kurt stammered, still shaking. “I see someone falling, I grab them.” He returned to the same spot, putting pressure back on your skull. “We came here once I smelled the blood.”

A whimper escaped your mouth. Logan snapped out of the initial shock and made his way over to you. His knees hit the hard floor. He took your hand. Nausea overcame him when your blood went cold against his skin. “Hey. It’s me. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.” He kept repeating it. Just like he did in his night terrors.

This didn’t feel real. It couldn’t be.

Could it?

But it was.

He could sense it creeping in.

You weren’t supposed to be in this situation. Logan had gone out of his way to make sure something like this would never happen.

But sometimes, nightmares come true. And the worst one was unraveling right before him.

“Go… help.” You were wheezing. The rattle slithering out whenever you tried to speak. Was there blood in your lungs too?

What you said made him hold onto you that much tighter. “No way in hell. I’m not leaving you like this.”

He paused. From where he kneeled, he had a clear view of your injury. He wanted to tear those monsters outside to pieces.

You shut your eyes, face curled up in pain. Kurt continued to mutter prayers. Logan held your cold skin to his mouth, leaving frantic kisses on the back of your hand. It almost looked like he was praying too.

Then, a blood curdling scream irrupted from you. You screamed so hard that your legs thrashed and fingers tightened around Logan’s wrist. You’d never felt pain like this before. All consuming. Like a dragon swallowed you whole. Blades of flame and ice scattered along its esophagus.

Logan slammed his fist against the metal floor. “God dammit!” He was trying to keep himself from crying. A wild look overtook his eyes. He whipped his head towards the hatch and back to Kurt. “Go get Jean.” He ordered his teammate. “Now!”

Kurt nodded. He would not hesitate. He tried peeling Logan’s hands from your own, but Logan would not budge. He only looked more confused, hurt and angry.

Kurt sighed, pointing at you. “It’s for her.”

Logan let some of his anger dissipate, realizing what Kurt was trying to do. He let him guide his hands to your head and vanished into thin air as soon as Logan was in the proper place to care for you.

Logan pushed the fabric against the gash in your skull. Your eyes scrunched up again, teeth biting your lip.

“You’ll be fine.” He repeated over and over again. He soothed you with it. Cradled your head in his lap. Made sure to stay as still as he could. He put too little pressure on your head. As soon as he noticed, he put too much pressure on the wound. He eventually found the balance, watching your face twist back into a more comfortable position. “Nothing you can’t come back from.”

Something wet dripped onto your forehead. Mixing with your own tears. Was Logan bleeding too?

The darkness was inviting you to sleep. Yet, you didn’t want to leave Logan’s warm embrace. But you were so tired. And the nothingness was quiet. Your eyes fluttered, fighting the blood loss.

Panic shot through him. “Don’t you fucking dare.” His pleas grew more erratic. He was reaching for words that didn’t belong together. “The flowers in your room. You need to water them.” When did so much blood get in your hair? Your breathing became shallow. “Everyone gets hit in the head. Fucking get up.” You couldn’t smell anything anymore. Was his voice falling apart? “I think we should go home.”

There was a brief flash of blue that popped into your blurry view. Red hair swam front of your face. Cold hands taking over for him. There was more talking and cursing. You felt drunk in the head. Logan’s animalistic screams faded as he ran out of the hatch, claws unsheathed. Jean yelled for him to come back.

Then it was just darkness. A long sleep.

Logan was by your side when you woke up.

He nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw you struggling to open your eyes. But, he hesitated to touch you. Like one wrong move would send him back to that pool of blood and claustrophobic ship.

“Hey.” He let out a shaky breath.

With the pad of his thumb, he gently brushed away the crust underneath your eyelids. You could see much clearer now. The infirmary was empty except for the two of you. The lights overhead were nearly too bright to handle. Your head was still pounding. But the worst pain was in the chest, moving all the way to your back.

You noted the tear stains on his cheeks and the black, torn up X Men suit he was still wearing.

How long were you out? You really hoped he didn’t stay here watching over you for days on end. You needed him to take care of himself.

It took a while to gather the strength to speak. “Logan…” Your voice scratched the air. It still hurt to talk. “When did you last sleep?”

Logan let himself exhale once he heard your voice. You were alive. Right in front of him. But it didn’t feel real until now. “You of all people, are worried about me?” He chuckled, kissing your forehead, caressing your cheek. “Never change.”

You pushed your face into the palm of his hand. “Is everyone else okay?”

He nodded. That was good to hear. Everyone made it out of that hell hole safely. As soon as you were able to, you were going to go thank Kurt for everything he did. And buy him a new coat.

“See? Nightmare averted. You can sleep just fine now.”

His face fell. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”

“That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” You motioned towards the water on the table. He sat on the edge of the bed and brought the straw to your lips. The water was cool against your dry tongue and sore throat. You let him put the drink back. “Was it that bad?”

He pursed his lips, tilting his head in discomfort. His fingers gripped the sides of the bed. They turned white against the blue sheets. “What do you think?”

“Can’t really think right now. My head is killing me.”

“And a collapsed lung.” He added. You thought he was going to break the bed.

Memories started flooding back to you. The powerful kick to the chest, the weapon slicing open your head. Then before you knew it, you were falling.

“I did a lot worse to that fucker than what he did to you. I made sure of it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his face curled up like he was in pain too. “This can’t happen again.”

Your throat was dry and it still hurt to talk, but you powered through. “I can’t promise you it won’t.”

He whipped his head around. He looked so tired. “You almost died last night.” The pain echoed off every single word. “It. Can’t. Happen. Again.”

You reached for his hand and he hesitated again. Eyes locked on the tiny injuries along your fingers. That’s where he kissed you as you lay dying.

“I’m sorry.” His fingers danced across your own, avoiding them like a crush.

“This isn’t your fault.”

“Sure feels like it is.”

You began to cough. Your bruised ribs hurt with each sharp inhale and exhale. Logan brought the straw back to your lips. “Jean will be back soon to check up on you. Take it easy, okay?” You swallowed, thanking him once again.

There was a pause, but not an uncomfortable one. “I think you should go get some rest.”

“I’m fine.” He picked at the fiber strains of your blanket. “I don’t sleep, I get a little tired. You don’t sleep, you can barely function. I get hurt, I heal just as quickly. You get hurt…” He stopped himself from finishing the sentence by biting down on the inside of his cheek. “God, I need a fucking drink.”

“Then go get one. After you take care of yourself.”

“That is taking care of myself.”

“No, it really isn’t.”

“Jesus.” He dragged his hands over his face. “You are not going to let this go?”

“Nope.” Logan wanted to kiss that stupid smirk off your lips.

He sighed. “I just don’t want to go through it again.”

“Maybe you’ll dream of something different this time. Something better.”

Jean walked into the room, still giving the two of you space. He knew you’d be fine with her. That you were safe now. But it still hurt to leave.

“Fine. I’ll go sleep or whatever.” Logan kissed your forehead one last time before standing up. “But then I’m coming right back.”

You watched him go with a weak smile. There was still a lot of healing to do, but you’d do it together.

[ihave-atummyache]

u still love me?

Stray Kids OT8 Imagine

NSFW!! 18++

summary: if you’re feeling down, you can always count on your sweet boy to reassure you.

4.6k words

Bang Chan:

Our sweet, touchy boy. The best way he reassures you is just putting his hands any where he can reach. He'll rub and touch you all over, hoping to ease your mind. He finds comfort in touching you just as much as you find.

When you let out a sigh from your spot behind Chan, he immediately pulls his other headphone off his head and turns towards you. You're on your phone, zooming in and out of a picture.

He glances over at the other producer in the room with him. He has both headphones on and Chan can faintly hear the tune of the song they’re working on playing. He looks back over to your slumped frame, a deep frown between your brows.

"Whatcha up to?" his voice breaks you from your thoughts and you jump, looking up at him. You put on your best smile and shake your head at him.

"Nothing," you thought you were much more convincing than you actually were but nothing gets past your overly observant and absolute sweetest boyfriend.

"Then why do you look like you're about to burst into tears at any moment?" he asks, raising his eyebrows at you. You can't tell him it's because you are so you clear your throat and look down again as you feel the tears well up.

"It's just..." you pause, swallowing the lump in your throat before glancing down at your phone screen again. "Do you think I'm too... big?" you question, quietly and Chan straightens up, turning to the producer who is in the room with him. He taps his shoulder before asking if he minds if he steps outside for a moment.

There was no hesitation from your boyfriend at all. He never wants to hear you talk about yourself like that and wants to be sure that that is perfectly clear to you.

In an instant, Chan stands and walks over to you, putting both hands out in front of him and pulling you to your feet. He guides you into the vacant hallway and turns, leaning against the wall beside the two of you. He crosses his arms over his chest and gives you a once over.

Your insecurities immediately creep back up and your arms rush to cross over your chest, however, your boyfriend grabs your arms, pulling you closer and wrapping them around his own waist. You let yourself melt into the embrace as Chan places a kiss to your forehead then wraps his arms tightly around you.

You let out a sigh and pull yourself even closer to your boyfriend. His scent and body heat are enough to help your mind from swarming for at least a moment.

"You do realize that you are the smartest, most talented, beautiful, and amazing person I have ever met, right?” He asks the question like its the most obvious question and you pull away from the hug to look at him.

A blush creeps up his ears but he still holds eye contact. This time, a real smiles slowly makes its way to your face, which he mirrors before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your nose then your lips.

“Feeling a little better, baby?” he questions, his hands still rubbing up and down your back. He’s gentle but precise, knowing exactly where you always get knots at and rubbing a little harder in those spots.

You nod and he leans in again, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He stay against you for a moment too long, groaning. He finally pulls away and locks eyes with you.

“And you drive me absolutely crazy. I want you every moment of everyday,” he brushes a hair away from your face before slowly trailing a hand down your arm.

He grabs one of your hands and pulls you back into the studio. He guides you back to where he had been sitting. Before you can protest about being distracting, he’s pulling up a chair next to his recording chair and gently guides you to sit next to him. He smiles at you once more before picking his headphones back up and putting them on his head.

He blindly reaches over to you as you pick your phone up again, rubbing up and down your thigh and playing with your fingers resting there, offering you physical touch and easing your worries.

Lee Know:

Okay, let me preface this by saying that the man is a Scorpio. One of his favorite and most effective ways of reassuring you is making absolutely toe curling, amazing love to you. He's worshipping you and complimenting you the entire time.

That man knows how to freak it and is so in tune with your mind and body that it’s like he already knows exactly what you need to hear before you even tell him.

He’ll notice you staring at yourself a little longer than usual and will be sure to tell you that you look beautiful. He’ll notice you fidgeting with your hair too much and will compliment it or ask if you did something different. He’s just very aware of you.

He wants you to know that he wants every square inch of your body even if you don't like it yourself. You're a gift from heaven in his eyes and he wants to prove it to you.

"O-okay, baby, okay," you whimper out, yanking your boyfriend's hair to pull him from between your thighs. He looks up at you, his chin and mouth wet with you but he makes no effort to actually move from his spot.

"Okay? I'm just getting started, pretty," the smirk on his face sends chills down your spine and he gently kneads at your plush thighs.

"How many more times should I make you cum before you realize how perfect you are?" his voice is muffled when he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

"Just taste so good…" he mumbles mindlessly against your skin, his tongue darting over your hip and sucking a small mark there, "Smell so good," he inhales deeply as he finally makes his way up your body to make eye contact with you.

"You were fucking made for me," he rubs the head of his cock through your soaking folds before sliding in, "F-fuck. Even this pussy was made to take me," he slides out slowly before leaning in and pressing a sloppy, wet kiss to your mouth.

"I don't ever want to hear you making those comments about yourself again. It's an insult to me too," he mumbles against your lips as you nod, mindlessly.

Changbin:

Changbin is the type to be constantly reassuring you because he also needs the same kind of attention. Even if you two argue or he snaps at you or is grumpy, he is always the first to fess up to his actions and apologize. He definitely hates the idea of either of you going to bed mad at each other.

You and your boyfriend had gotten in a stupid argument. So stupid that you don't even remember what it was about in the first place. However, you’re far too stubborn to admit that.

When you walk into the kitchen, you try your best to ignore your boyfriend scrolling through social media at the dining table. His empty bowl sits in front of him, he had eaten the portion you prepared for him. You smile a little to yourself, happy that despite him being upset with you, he would never deny something you make for him.

You reach into the cupboard and place a glass on the counter. The clink of the glass hitting the granite feels like it echoes around the apartment with the tense silence between the two of you.

You pull the fridge open and pull out the water before you hear Changbin sigh and place his phone down on the table. You begin to pour your water into the glass and glance over your shoulder at him as he runs his fingers through his hair.

"Still not talking to me?" He questions and you roll your eyes before returning the water to the fridge and taking a sip from your glass. You turn to face him, leaning back against the counter top.

"Baby, I know that you're upset but I have to go record and I don't want to leave things like this," he stands and walks over to you, leaning against the island opposite from you and crossing his arms over his chest.

You take a sip of your water as you lock eyes with him, still refusing to speak.

"Even if I am upset with you, I love you. And even if you act like a little kid," he pushes off the counter and closes the space between you, grabbing the glass from your hand and putting it down behind you.

"I still love you, endlessly. You're the only person for me in this entire universe, okay?" he asks, placing a hand on either side of you, trapping you between his body and the counter.

You feel a blush rush up your neck at his comment and you can barely suppress the smile making it's way to your face. He notices and leans in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose and poking you in the ribs at the same time. You jump and let the smile spread.

"Hey! Not fair. Tickle spot is cheating," you giggle out and he leans towards you again. You close the gap, pressing a kiss to his plump lips.

"Tell me you love me back before I die please," he speaks against your lips and you laugh at his antics, completely over the argument already.

"I also love you, endlessly," you pause and lock eyes with him again, "You big softie," the tease quickly turns into a tickle fight and your boyfriend is still late to his recording session.

Hyunjin:

Definitely the type to absolutely worship your body. Would put you in front of a mirror and point out all his favorite places to kiss, hug, touch. And, of course, would paint endless portraits of you. He might even paint directly on your body, using his favorite places as a canvas.

"I look kind of weird in that. You can see all my little blemishes and scars," you scrunch your nose up at the picture that your boyfriend is showing you.

You two had recently moved in together and you suggested that it would be cute and unique if your boyfriend were to paint something to hang in the empty space above your couch.

"First of all, you do realize that you're just raw beauty on two legs, right?" His words immediately make a blush force it's way up your neck and you bury your face in your hands.

"You can't say things like that! You're too fucking sweet!" you splutter out and peek through your fingers to look at your boyfriend. His eyes are darting around the room and around his paints and you slowly bring your hands down, tilting your head at your cute boyfriend. You can practically see the gears turning in his head.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of your's?" You tease him, taking a step towards him but he stand quickly, grabbing a few paints and a few paint brushes and guides you out of the room, towards your half assembled bedroom.

Pushed against one random wall is the huge fully body mirror you had bought. He wraps a hand around your shoulders and pulls you towards the mirror.

"Baby, what are you-"

"I'm gonna show you," he interrupts you and you turn towards him to question what the hell he means but he speaks up again before you can, "Don't move," he demands and you close your mouth, facing the mirror again.

Hyunjin approaches you and slides his hands under your tank top, pulling it over your head, leaving you in just a pair of sleep shorts.

"I love these perfect tits," he wraps both of his big hands around each of your breasts from behind, squeezing the flesh and causing a hum to fall from your lips.

His hands trail down and his nimble fingers are pulling your shorts down your legs, along with your underwear. He squats behind you as you step out of both. He presses a kiss to the back of one of your soft thighs then another to one side of your ass before standing again and looking at you through the mirror.

You're too entranced by his gaze to notice he has dipped a paintbrush into a pretty pink paint and it isn't until it touches your skin that you notice what he's doing. You jump at the cool contact of the wet paint.

"You are so insanely beautiful. I feel like the luckiest man on earth every time I lay my eyes on you," he traces a stretch mark on your hip with the paint and you gasp at the cold liquid on your heated skin. A blush rushes to your cheeks at his words and he has, once again, rendered you speechless.

"I'm going to show you all my favorite parts of you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. Your eyes glance down to where he had painted and you can make out the beginning shape of a beautiful flower, blossoming from your insecurities.

Han:

He definitely gets genuinely offended and pouty if he hears you talking bad about yourself. He views you as an extension of himself so if anyone, including yourself, talks bad about you, he feels personally attacked. He also isn't shy about reassuring you, especially if he knows that you like to hear it.

"I don't know man, I think I'll just keep trying to diet and exercise whenever I get the chance. If I could just get my waist a little bit smaller, I would be satisfied," you speak to your best friend on FaceTime, unaware of your eavesdropping boyfriend in the kitchen.

"Oh shut up. You're hot and you have a hot boyfriend who makes sure you know it too!" she exclaims with a chuckle and a half laugh leaves your lips before you roll over onto your back on the couch.

"Maybe, but still. I feel like I should look better, not just for him but for everyone. I don't want him too get too far out of my league," you joke, making you and your best friend laugh but Han frowns in the next room.

He lets you and your friend talk for a few more minutes before he can't help but enter the room to talk to you. He walks over to the couch and you tilt your head to look up at him when he stands at the end of the couch.

"Hi," you smile up at him, handsome as ever even from this angle.

"Hello, my baby," he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, making your best friend gag before she hangs up. You chuckle and your boyfriend circles the couch before settling between your legs and laying his head on your chest. He wraps his arms under your waist and your hands automatically move to the familiar position that you two are often in, his head on your chest, one of your hands in his hair, and the other rubbing his back gently.

It's quiet for a few minutes and you can tell something is up. You're a pro at Han Jisung vibe checks and his vibe is way off.

"Everything okay?" your voice is soft, chest vibrating against his cheek. He adjusts his position on the couch, before looking down at you. You wrap your arms around his neck, one of his hands gently rubbing your hip while his other elbow holds him up. His eyes dart across your face and you swallow at the unexpected attention, feeling a bit shy beneath his gaze.

"Dude, you're literally so beautiful that I want to cry sometimes. You realize that, right?" his voice is so genuine that you're actually speechless for a few seconds but he speaks up again before you can.

"I don't want to hear you talking about my lover like that ever again. You're so not out of my league. Everyone actually tells me it's the other way around," he lets a shy smile make it's way to his face and you tighten your grip around his neck, pulling his lips to your's.

"God, I fucking love you. How did I get so damn lucky?" you mutter against his lips and he chuckles, kissing you again.

Felix:

Felix will pull up photos that he has taken of you either to your knowledge or not. A little shy to bring up the photos he took without you knowing but can't stop taking them because in his eyes, you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

He genuinely can't comprehend that you believe you have anything to be insecure about because he literally worships the ground you walk on. He tries to understand your insecurities but it’s hard for him.

"Lix, I'm gonna look terrible in that," you point at the straps on the side of the dress that he wants you to try on, "Those straps are gonna squeeze my rolls," you say the words without thinking much about it.

"And?" he cocks his head to the side, still trying to push the dress into your hands.

"And," you push the dress back towards him, "I'm already big enough, I don't need to look even bigger," you state matter a factly.

Once again he looks at you with that cute little head tilt, a small pout on his lips at your refusal and your comments about yourself.

"Just try it on. If you hate it, we won't get it," he tries to convince you and you sigh, turning to continue picking through the clothes on the rack.

"I'll probably cry if it looks too bad right now," your voice isn't much louder than a whisper, anybody else wouldn't be able to hear the two of you in the store.

"Why?"

"Felix." you drop your forehead to the cool metal of the rack and and let out another sigh.

"I just want to know what you mean by that. I'm not trying to offend you, just wanna understand you better is all," the tone in your boyfriend's voice shatters your heart and you look over at him, his eyes casted down to the floor.

"Baby, I'm sorry. It's just that that dress isn't going to look flattering on me," you grab his hand, intertwining your fingers, "I would gush out the sides around those straps," you point at the straps on the dress still in his other hand. 

"For some reason the thought of that is making me hard," He speaks up and you immediately slap both your hands over his mouth.

"Felix!" you scold in a whisper yell, a blush rushing up your neck. He chuckles behind your hands and you can't help but laugh along with him.

"You're a handful," you snatch the dress from him and make your way towards the dressing room.

"I'm trynna get a handful of you," he puncuates his sentence with a slap to your ass, making you laugh again.

"You're so corny," you roll your eyes as he follows closely behind you.

"You love corn," you can't object to that. When you do finally give him the satisfaction on trying on the dress, he fully convinces you that you must buy it or he will die. He doesn't even let you have an opinion, even going as far to just buy it for you!

Seungmin:

My words of affirmation boy!! He doesn't say much sappy or lovey dovey things so when he does, it's just that much more believable. You whole heartedly believe him when he drops the teasing, tsundere act and gives you a genuine compliment.

You stare at your reflection in your mirror. Your hair isn't cooperating, your makeup looks off, you don't know what to wear and you're just overall frustrated with your appearance. You had been staring at yourself for too long in the mirror and begun over analyzing your face.

By the time your boyfriend gets home from errands, you're already fighting the tears. Then he walks into the bedroom in all his perfect glory, backwards hat and flawless face and skin. In his hands is a dozen sunflowers for the vase that you keep on your vanity.

"Do you like these? I thought they were very pretty. They remind me of that time that-" he looks up from the flowers and sees the tears brimming your eyes, "Are you okay?" he immediately sits the flowers down and rushes towards you before kneeling before you and placing your face in his hands.

Hearing his worry for you is enough to have the water works flowing and before you know it, you're in a full mental breakdown in his arms. You throw yourself into him, knocking him onto his butt as you cry into his shirt.

"Shh, it's okay, baby. You're okay. You're okay," he's rubbing your back and scratching your scalp and if you were more sane, you would be listening to his heart beat and realizing just how freaked out he is. He's never seen you breakdown like this before and especially for seemingly no reason.

"Why do you even like me? You're so perfect, so beautiful, so amazing and I'm just... me," you blubber out against his shirt and he freezes for a second, realizing that you had gotten into your own head.

"I don't just like you," he pauses and grabs your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. When he locks eyes with your distraught ones, he swears he can feel his heart breaking.

"I adore you. You're the only one in the world who I can love. You've made me into a better person just by loving me," more tears pour from your eyes at his sweet words.

It's so rare that Seungmin gets sentimental like this. You prefer it that way because when you do get the privilege to hear these sweet words from him, you know he truly means it.

"Even when you have snot all over your face," he uses the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe your nose, making you chuckle through the tears, "I still think you are the most beautiful thing in the world, okay?" He finishes, brushing some hairs away from your face. You nod at him, wiping some tears away with your own sleeve.

"Uh-uh, I wanna hear you say it. You're perfection in my eyes, you got that?" he asks and you smile again at him, his eyes serious as you have ever seen them.

"Okay," you concede, feeling your spirits beginning to lift already.

"Okay, what?" he asks, raising his eyebrows at you as you sit up, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms immediately wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

"Okay, daddy," you joke and he grunts in annoyance (and maybe something else) at this, rolling his eyes.

"Y/n..."

"Not the government name," you pout before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips, "Okay. I'm the most beautiful in your eyes," he nods in approval before kissing you once again. You wrap your arms tighter around his neck, burying your face into his hoodie. It's strong with the scent of him and you feel so lucky to be in this man's arms.

"I adore you too, by the way," you whisper against his neck and he hums in response, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

I.N:

I.N is the type to reassure you by making you realize how much he depends on you. He makes it clear that you’re important to him no matter what. He always makes you feel like your opinions and thoughts matter, no matter how stupid they are.

He loves to be your personal therapist, letting you rant and complain or ask for advice. He likes that you depend on him just as much as he depends on you.

You continue to ramble as you stir the pot on the stove in front of you. Your boyfriend is sitting at the island, his chin in his hand as he listens and watches you. He admires the way you start to fling the spoon and your hands around when you get particularly passionate about a part in the story.

He loves the way you finish some sentences with, “you know what I mean?” to make sure he’s still listening to you. He doesn’t mind that he hasn’t gotten a word in edgewise besides a “right” or “yeah” or just a hum in over 20 minutes.

His phone vibrates on the table and he looks down to see he’a receiving a FaceTime call from Chan.

“Hold that thought, babe,” he stops you and you glance over your shoulder when you hear the call connect.

“Are you hungry? I was planning to stop and get some food on the way home,” you hear Chan’s voice over the phone and turn back towards the stove.

“Ahh, y/n is here. She’s cooking and talking. I’m sure there will be enough for you if you want some,” he glances up at you and you nod in agreement. You had grown used to making food for his old roommates so you often made too much food for just two people.

“Ahh cooking and talking as usual. The lovebirds. Well, I’ll be home as soon as I wrap up here. Love you guys!” Jeongin says something else but you aren’t hearing anything.

What did he mean by as usual? Like how you’re always talking? Is it really that annoying?

“Babe? Did you hear me?” you jump when your boyfriend’s voice is much closer than you expected, dropping the spoon and splattering sauce all over the floor.

“S-sorry. I’m sorry,” you speak out, bending down to pick up the spoon but Jeongin is faster, grabbing the spoon off the floor and placing it in the sink. He grabs some paper towels and cleans the mess for you as you grab a different spoon to finish stirring.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did it burn you?” Jeongin’s voice is full of concern when he hears you sniffle. You turn your head towards him, eyes red and tears threatening to make their way down your cheeks.

“I’m okay. It’s just… do I talk too much? I’m sorry. I always get told I talk to much. If you ever want me to stop, you can tell me to shut up or whatev-”

“Shut up,” he interrupts you and you freeze, so you do talk too much?

“You don’t talk too much, babe. Your voice is my favorite sound and I can never get enough of it. Don’t ever stop being a chatter box, got it?” he raises his eyebrows at you and you nod.

“I love hearing all your silly little thoughts and opinions, no matter how small they may be. I actually feel so antsy when you’re not around and I’m sitting in silence. Makes me realize how much I need you around. What would I do without you? I think I would die of boredom…” he trails off when he notices the smile that has grown on your face.

“Now look who is the chatterbox. It appears I’m rubbing off on you Innie. You just went on a tangent,” you tease and he pushes your shoulder, looking away from you shyly.

“Shut up,” he mumbles and you laugh again at his cute reaction.

“Can’t make me now. You already said you like to hear me yap,” you turn the cap to simmer and step towards your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“You’re the cutest, y’know?” you compliment him before leaning in again and biting down on his chest.

“Hey!” he whines, swatting you away.

[sadhours]

gamer boyfriend with kurt

kurt x female reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, virginity loss, oral (m receiving), no use of y/n, awkward dirty talk, p in v (unprotected)

“Ya know, if you actually stream the gameplay and not just your face, people might watch,” you tell him as you sit back on the bed, plugging in your phone.

Kurt looks down at his lap and then back up at you, looks like he’s connecting the dots and you’re right. Like he’s never thought of that before. He pouts, “Yeah well maybe when the money from Spree gets to my bank, I’ll look into it.”

You huff, propping yourself up on your elbow so you can watch him. You have no idea what game he’s playing, video games aren’t really your thing. But it’s a bunch of dudes running around with guns. You’d have a better chance guessing if the games were listed on a board and you threw a dart at it. Who you think is Kurt’s character isn’t very good, though. The dudes running around in circles and not shooting. Gets shot several times in the few minutes you’re watching.

“Are you winning?” you ask, bored.

“No,” he mumbles.

You sigh and pick up your phone, scrolling through Twitter absentmindedly when some porn pops up and out of curiosity, you don’t keep scrolling. An idea pops into your head and you reach your foot out to poke Kurt’s thigh. “I know how to get some attention online,” you purr.

“How?!” he asks excitedly, glancing briefly at you and then his eyebrows furrow. “I’m talking to my girlfriend, not you guys!” he screeches into the mic. Then his eyes roll, “Yes, she’s real.”

You giggle, stroking your foot up his thigh and back down. His cheeks flush as he continues in the mic, “We haven’t had a chance yet.” He sounds embarrassed and you can assume they’re asking if he’s slept with you, in not so nice words. And you two haven’t. Not for a lack of trying on your end. Hell, you would’ve blown him in his Spree the first time you met. Granted, you were drunk but you thought Kurt was cute and really, you would’ve invited him in if he wasn’t so awkward. So you left him your number on a napkin but he never called. And for about two weeks you wracked your brain trying to remember his instagram handle that he repeatedly rattled off to you and your drunken friends. They thought he was cringey but something about Kurt intrigued you. He was sweet. And really goddamn good looking under that mop of greasy hair and clothes his mom picked out for him.

She was really the reason you guys hadn’t done much more than rushed handjobs in his Prius. Kurt’s mom was… protective. Babied the hell out of Kurt. Treats him like a teenager and not a 23 year old man. The door has to stay open when you’re over. Like that would stop two adults from fooling around.

“We’re busy, I don’t know,” Kurt’s mumbling interrupts your thoughts. “No! She wants to. She definitely wants to.”

You get up from his bed and get yourself between his thighs, purring into the mic, “Oh, I really want to.”

Kurt’s face lights up, cheeks flushing as they swell with a bright smile. You giggle, and close his laptop, ending his stream. Something like this will get him banned, and you’re pretty sure he’d cry over it. He starts to protest, “Wait! What are you—“ it dies in his throat as you palm at his crotch over his pants.

His eyes roll back the harder you rub and yours glance up towards the door, making sure his mom isn’t being nosy. But she works a lot so when she gets home, she tends to pass out watching TV. You’re probably in the clear as long as Kurt keeps quiet. Your fingers work to unbutton his jeans, pulling down the zipper before grabbing his waistband and tugging his pants down. You can see the swell of his dick chubbing up in his briefs and you rub your nose against him, looking up to see his pretty, full lips falling open. He’s gripping the controller close to his chest and his eyes are on you. Sweetest brown eyes you’ve ever seen.

Mouthing at his boner, you hook your fingers into his briefs and start pulling them down his thighs. Kurt’s impressive length flops out and rises with arousal, filling out quickly. Kurt hasn’t admitted he’s a virgin, but you’ve come to the conclusion he is. Which is a first for you and it’s exciting. The thought that you’ll be his first is intoxicating and has you soaking through your panties. You wrap your fingers around his cock and stroke him slow and tight, mouth watering at the sight of it. His cocks huge. Pretty. Thick and long with a pink head and it gets wet. Never seen a man leak so much. You lick his slit, giddy when he whines and grips the Xbox controller tighter.

“Maybe I am,” he mumbles into the microphone and smirks and you laugh softly, squeezing his dick tighter. More precum bubbles out of his slit and you’re quick to lick it up.

“Tell them, Kurt,” you bite your lip, “Tell them what I’m doing.”

He looks shy, eyebrows raising as his cheeks ruddy even more, “She’s literally touching my dick right now.”

He whispers it, barely audible and you wrap your lips around his tip, sucking softly as you look up at him. Wide eyed. Kurt whines again and then says, “I’m not lying!”

“Shh,” you hush him when you pull off his dick, “We have to be quiet.”

“Sorry,” his eyes are so so sweet and apologetic. You need him. Can’t handle it anymore. You stand, pushing down your leggings and underwear before climbing into his lap. He grunts, looking at you all wide eyed and confused but it just spurs you on more. You’re almost feral for it. For him. For Kurt.

“Shh,” you repeat, “Need you, now.”

You grip his cock, lining it up with your entrance and sinking down on him. You whine from it and Kurt moans, loud and shaky. Slapping your palm over his mouth, you look at him with wide eyes before looking over to the doorway.

“Kurt… keep it down, baby. Okay?” you whisper, gazing into those beautiful brown eyes. He nods, and you grab the controller, dropping it to the floor and guiding his hands to hold your waist. He grips you tightly, looking up at you with stars in his eyes. You smile, stroking his cheek with your thumb before lifting up and slowly lowering back down on him. Kurt looks amazed, eyes and mouth open in absolute awe. You build a slow and gently rhythm, wanting this to last at least five minutes.

You connect your lips to his, pushing the headphones off his head and they fall around his neck. Riding him steadily, you deepen the kiss as you slide your tongue along his lower lip. But Kurt’s Kurt so he doesn’t get it and you have to press your thumb to his chin and pull his mouth open. When you lick inside his mouth, he moans and digs his fingers into the small of your back. Thank God his cocks so long, it prods at your g-spot perfectly, hooked just right. You’re sure you can cum if you time it properly. So you kiss him filthier before picking up the pace, sucking on his tongue and licking against the roof of his mouth. Kurt’s completely falling apart, whimpering and messy. You bounce in his lap, adjusting the angle to ensure he’s slamming against your spongy bit just so.

His gaming chair squeaks under the weight, rhythmically mirroring your thrusts. You gasp, pulling back from the kiss and whispering in his ear, “Talk to me, baby. Make me me cum.”

“Oh!” he whines, “okay, uh… I’m fucking you. With my dick.”

It’s almost sweet and dorky enough to work, it makes you smile and you nod as you whisper back, “Yeah, baby. You are, your cock is so big. Filling me so deep, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he whimpers, “Filling your pussy up.”

“How’s my pussy feel, baby?” You coax him along, knitting your fingers in his hair, slowing your movements.

“Good. Really good,” he struggles to get stay quiet, voice wrecked and shaky, “It’s wet and so good.”

“Yeah?” you hum, kissing along his jaw, “You wanna cum in my pussy, baby?”

“I—fuck,” he grits out, wrapping his arms around your waist while he holds you still, spurts of hot cum shooting from him inside you.

Well, you tried. You nuzzle against him and repeatedly kiss his jaw as he rides out his bliss. “That’s it, Kurt. Fill me up.”

He lets out a pathetic sound, face all contorted as he thrusts his hips up at you. Then his arms fall to his sides while he lets out labored breaths. You keep kissing his face and stroking his hair.

“Let’s go to mine. And we can do that some more,” you say and Kurt laughs, full of excitement and disbelief.

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Practice On Me — Azriel x Reader

Summary: Young Azriel (twenty years old) in Windhaven. A deliciously cliche trope that’s always fun to write. You and Az are close friends, and that’s why he trusts you with a certain insecurity. And also why you come up with an interesting solution. Doesn’t mean it’s necessarily a good idea, though…

Word count: 4.5k.

Warnings: None.

These nights are cold and unforgiving.

The snow began hammering down in silent droves a couple of hours before. A thick layer of it now blankets the ground and paints the Windhaven camp a brutal white that makes you glance at the boots on your feet. Basic, brown boots that will be soaked and frozen by the time you reach your shoddy hovel of a house. You should have left at the sight of the first snowflake that kissed the ground.

But Rhysand’s mother’s cottage is warm and cosy in a way that yours isn’t. It lulls you to sit back rather than sit up, the fire crackling away in the corner and the smell of spilled ale tinging the air, Cassian’s clumsiness, of course. Your friends eyeball each other around the table, and this game of cards has been going on for too long, and you think your eyes might be growing heavy. If you don’t muster the energy to walk home now, you’ll regret it.

“I’m out.” You announce wisely, eyeing the pitiful deal of cards in your hands. You pile them atop of the table, stretching your arms above your head. The game continues around you.

Playing cards with Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel is always a little amusing — seeing them transform from boisterous, drunken fools to serious, suspicious competitors. They study each other across the top of their cards as if there are any real takings to be had by the winner — but Rhysand’s mother would have your heads if you actually gambled under her roof, so a pile of plastic buttons it is.

Certainly not an incentive to stay any longer.

You stand from your chair, earning curious looks from your three friends. To them, the night is young, at least while Rhys’s mother isn’t here to berate you about the late hour — two, three o’clock, perhaps — but to you, with an unpleasant journey across the camp still to be completed, the night is very much old and very much over.

“I’m heading home before the weather gets any worse.” You announce, plucking your jacket from the back of your chair. “Enjoy the rest of your game, ladies.”

Cassian snorts and Rhys studies his cards once more, ever the serious player, but it’s Azriel — Azriel, who places his dealt hand face-down on the table and also stands from his seat.

“I’ll walk with you.” He announces. Your other two friends don’t so much as bat an eyelash at the offer, because it’s a regular one, one you’ve heard a thousand times and one you know not to politely protest.

Azriel is your closest friend in this gods-forsaken place. And he will genuinely plunge a dagger into his heart before allowing you to brave your walk home alone.

So, you wait by the door as he shucks his jacket on, sliding warm gloves over his scarred hands. And then you’re opening the door, and a savage flurry of snow is pelting your face like it’s been waiting to attack.

“Fucking hell, close the door.” Cass grouses. “It’s glacial out there.”

As if, as Illyrians, the four of you aren’t used to the brutal temperatures. You roll your eyes at his whining and shove your hands into your pockets, before planting a boot into the thick layer of snow already on the ground. You grimace at how little protection your shoes afford you. Twenty years you’ve lived here. You should know better, be more prepared. Hopefully you can make it home before your feet turn to blocks of ice.

“Goodnight, assholes.” You call over your shoulder, and your friends momentarily break from their poker faces to return the sentiment. “Love you!”, Cassian calls, and “Keep warm!”, Rhysand reminds you, and then Azriel is following you out of the door.

“Cass is definitely losing that game.” The Shadowsinger immediately sidles close to you, his side pressed against yours. It doesn’t do much against the glowering cold, but it’s a comfort.

“I’m sure we’ll be able to hear it across the camp the moment he realises.” You breathe a laugh, curling in on yourself. Not only is the temperature simply unpleasant, but it also causes you pain — any extreme weather seems to make the ruined remains of your clipped wings twinge. You search for a subject to distract yourself from the sensation. “How come you didn’t invite Kaeda tonight?”

The name of Azriel’s recent interest has him angling himself towards you, snowflakes catching in his hair. He raises a dark eyebrow. “We’ve not moved past the casual stage yet. Certainly not enough to subject her to Cassian’s company.”

“Shame. It’d be nice to have another female around.” Rhysand’s cousin, Mor, sometimes comes to visit, and you have a few good female friends around the camp, but in your closest circle, you’re a little outnumbered.

Something that didn’t seem to matter so much when you were all younglings making mischief. But you’re adults now. Things are different. You are different.

Azriel presses his arm into yours. “If things progress, I’ll bring her to meet the three of you.”

That’d be nice, you think. To have another friend, and to see Azriel happy. See him appreciated. He deserves to be appreciated.

“And are they?” You press back. “Progressing?”

It’s then that there’s the slightest shift in his demeanour. Anyone else might not catch it — he’s the Shadowsinger, after all, and damn well guarded and cryptic and good at hiding what he’s thinking, feeling. But you’ve known him since you were mere, little runts, and you know every little mannerism.

Even in the freezing cold, Azriel blushes. Turns coy.

“What?” You urge, trying and failing to read him.

He gives a half-hearted shrug. “I want to kiss her.”

“Then why don’t you?

“I want to do it right. I don’t…I don’t want to fuck it up.”

The concern seems like a baseless one. You’re sure Azriel has kissed people before, although he’s always been considerably more reserved than Cassian and Rhys when it comes to females, and you’re not certain how far he’s ever gone. Of all the things you talk about, this isn’t usually one of them. You’re not sure why.

But you’ll help, if possible. You mull over his words as the two of you crunch through thick snow, more and more of it seeping into your useless shoes. The soles of them are worn, and you need a new pair, but you can ill afford it right now. Eventually, the cold starts to get painful, and you stop for a moment, leaning on Az’s arm as you swear quietly.

“There’s no way you’re making it home in those.” He’s totally right, of course. “I told you to get new ones.”

“And I told you, I can’t afford them.” Your toes are numb, now.

“I could fly you straight to your door—”

“Az, you know you can’t.” You sigh; the two of you have had this conversation countless times, because Az takes your safety very seriously indeed. “My father won’t like it.”

It’s not like your father isn’t aware that you’ve been friends with Az and the others since you were youngsters. But as you’ve gotten older, he’s only gotten more paranoid. The last person in the godsdamn universe he would want to think about you having relations with is any of your three closest friends. And if he so much as catches a whiff of them at your door, one of you is sure to pay for it.

Azriel knows you’re right, even if he doesn’t like it. He curses under his breath, and then his arms are snaking around you. “Alright. Hold on to me.”

“What are you…” You cling to him as much as your frozen fingers will allow. He’s always a little warmer than you are, and the feeling is pleasant. As pleasant as his scent is. So naturally, you press closer to him.

“We’ll go to the mead hall.” Azriel explains. “No one will be there now, but the hearths will still be warm. We can spend the night there, and I’ll fly you home in the morning when your father has left for the forge.”

The mead hall is where the Illyrian families across the camp congregate almost nightly to eat their dinner and learn of camp news. It mostly becomes an unpleasant atmosphere, with the males drinking too much and at least one fight certain to break out. You try to attend as little as possible, opting to eat your meals elsewhere, usually in the company of your friends, but your father sometimes insists that you accompany him and drag his drunken ass back home afterwards.

At this time of night, though, the brutes will have been long kicked out and sent home. The cooks will have followed soon after, and the only remaining presence in the long hall is the heat that filled the place. The mere thought of it is a mouthwatering one.

Unsurprisingly, it’s locked, and unsurprisingly, Azriel and his shadows get the door open as if it isn’t. He places you down in the entrance, and you’re immediately heading through to the mammoth dining hall, the warmth breathing out at you and thawing your frozen skin.

Az’s boots thud on the wooden floor after you, leaving little patches of melting snow in his wake. “I’ll get another fire going.”

You hop up onto one of the long wooden tables, first kicking off your sodden shoes and then stuffing your socks into them. You wiggle your toes, trying to generate some warmth into your pinkened feet.

You watch Azriel from across the room. The strands of his dark hair are damp and falling into his eyes, his skin cold-bitten. Sometimes, in moments like these, it stuns you how beautiful your closest friend is. You suppose it’s easy to forget, sometimes, when you’ve known somebody for so long; easy to become desensitised to their beauty. But looking at him like this, you’re sure he must have a whole line of suitors — both female and male — vying for his attention. Even if it’s something he never talks about.

To you, he’s just Az. And you can’t help snorting quietly as he so predictably scoops your shoes and socks up and places them by the fire he has lit.

A mother hen, truly.

“You should start to warm up any second.” He says, traipsing back over to where you’re sat. He slots himself between your legs, and his warmed hands cup your face. “I’m going to buy you a new pair of boots.”

“No you’re not.” You immediately quip, narrowing your eyes up at him. “I’ll buy them when my father chooses to pay me.”

You know it ticks him off — he, like the other adult males, gets a semi-decent wage for his commitment to the Illyrian army, the hours of training he puts in. You, on the other hand, might spend hours — days — helping out in your father’s forge, using the skills you’ve observed from him, and you’ll still only see the flash of a coin on a rare day that he decides he tolerates having a daughter, and that you’re not so bad, after all.

Hence why Azriel can afford a pair of boots, and you can’t. But you’ll not take his money.

So, you change the subject, relaxing into the pleasant sensation of his shadows tickling your skin, warming you. “Why would you fuck it up?”

Azriel’s face turns blank. “What?”

“You said you don’t want to fuck up kissing Kaeda. Why do you think you would?”

He stares back at you for a beat. And then his cheeks darken imperceptibly — nothing to do with the cold.

It surprises you. Az can be coy; shy, even. He’s the quietest of the three males in your circle. A pensive observer, never having much to say but certainly always having much to think about. And you know he has his insecurities, things that bother him, but he’s mostly sure of himself. Knows his power, his strength.

You’re not quite used to him balking from a subject. Becoming flustered by it.

“Has anyone complained about your technique before?” You cock an eyebrow, already knowing that no, they absolutely haven’t. Azriel has very full, kissable lips — something you’ve observed a couple of times before. In a totally platonic way, of course. Totally.

“I didn’t say that,” he lowers his gaze, “I—”

“Just go for it.” You reach up, pinching his flushed cheek between your fingers. “Jump right in and land one on Kaeda. Impress her with your kissing prowess—”

“You,” he tugs your hand away, “are so annoying—”

“The rest will naturally follow when you have your tongue in her mouth. Trust me. And then you’ll be wondering why you were worried in the first place—”

“Except that I’ve never kissed anybody before.”

Immediately, you fall still.

He may as well have shouted the words, from how loudly they seem to echo through the hall.

You stare up at your dear friend, and you blink. Wait for the punchline. Wait for a teasing grin to tug at the corner of his lips — something that very few people other than you get to witness — and for him to tell you that he’s jesting, and of course he’s kissed somebody before, and done a lot more stuff than that, too. All the stuff. Every bit of it. Over and over again—

“Let’s just drop it.” He murmurs, stepping away. You think you might have offended him with your silence, your surprise.

“Wait.” You blink, grasping hold of his arm. “Just…wait.”

He studies you. “Is it that much of a shock?”

Honestly? Yes, yes, it is. Because how did you not know this? You met Azriel when you were both eleven years old. Nine years ago. You faced puberty together and all the awkward things in between. And while you may not sit and discuss the ins and outs of your respective experiences, you simply assumed that his were progressing and evolving just as yours had. Cauldron, Rhys and Cassian stuck their cocks in different males and females every other week. You supposed you’d merely…grouped Azriel in with such things.

But when you think about it — really, truly think about it — Azriel is the only one of the three males who has never introduced another female to the group; no matter how short or fleeting their presence might be. You can’t pluck from your brain a single name he’s ever mentioned besides Kaeda — and that’s a very recent thing.

You’re still waiting a teeny, tiny, little bit for him to say he’s joking. But his cheeks are redder than ever.

“You’ve never kissed anyone.” You repeat, blinking at him.

He purses his lips. “I haven’t.”

“You’ve never pressed your lips to another person’s—”

“I think we’ve established that, Y/N.” He pivots, turning his back on you. “Just forget it.”

“No, wait, fuck, Az, you know I’m shit with words.” You reach for his hand. “Just…how come? Why have you never kissed anybody?”

His hand is tense in yours. You don’t like it. So many times, you’ve held his hand, felt his fingers fold around yours and your palms warm against each other’s. But he holds it limp, now, barely any weight to it. You give it a gentle squeeze.

He pauses. Then squeezes back.

And it’s then that you realise that’s where the problem lies — his hands. Scars.

“Az,” you sigh softly, tugging him closer to you. “Your hands are beautiful. A part of you, your story. Anyone worth knowing — worth kissing — will think the same.”

And gods, you mean the words with every tiny shred of your spirit and soul. There’s no one on the Mother’s green earth that you love more fiercely than the male in front of you. So kind, despite the hatred that’s been shown to him. So gentle, despite the brutality of your environment. He’s wiped your tears and kept you warm and shared his food and given you a place to sleep when your father has made your life particularly difficult. Platonic soulmates exist, and Azriel is yours.

He turns back to you and keeps hold of your hand. And he chews his bottom lip as he says, “I do know that. I know that not everybody is judgemental. But it’s not just the scars.”

You brush your thumb over the back of his palm. “What else is it?”

“I just simply don’t know…how. Fuck, theoretically, of course I know how kissing works. I’ve seen it more than enough. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be any good at it. I could be awful, for all I know.”

You highly, highly doubt that to be the case. “You just…practice. Until you know what you like. Until you know your technique.”

Hazel eyes study you curiously. “So…you have, then. Practiced.”

It’s rather strange, but a sudden, random slither of guilt presses down on your shoulders. Silly, because Azriel would never begrudge you your experiences — and you’ve had plenty of them, good and bad.

But in that moment, you want nothing more than to be able to tell him that you, too, have never kissed anybody. That you’ve never touched anybody or lain with anybody. That you’re just as inexperienced and clueless as he is.

But that would be a bare-faced lie. And you and Azriel do not lie to each other.

So perhaps it’s the guilt that causes you to blurt out, “Practice on me.”

Azriel blinks at you. His hand slackens in yours. “What?”

And fuck, you’ve said it now. You’re not sure whether or not you even meant to, but you think it’d be more awkward to retract the words than stand by them and ride them out. You square your shoulders. Try to seem sure, confident.

“Practice kissing with me.”

The poor male is completely dumbfounded. “You’re…my friend.”

“Yes, Azriel. That’s why I’m offering. Practice on me, refine your technique, and then you can apply that confidence to Kaeda.”

“Practice…on you…”

“I’m trying really hard not to be offended by the disgust that’s on your face right now.”

“Shit, no, that’s not—”

“You know what? Forget I said that. Dumb idea. Terrible idea. Forget I even mentioned it.”

Az stares at you. And you don’t want to balk from the eye contact, but you also totally want to throw yourself in the fire, because it would burn less than your embarrassment right now.

And then he says, “Is it a serious offer?”

You lift one shoulder into a shrug. “Why not?”

Oh, there are a million fucking reasons why not. The most pressing being that yours and Azriel’s friendship is, perhaps, the most stable thing in your life. Certainly the most precious and treasured. Rocking that is a very bad idea, indeed.

And you think, for a moment, that that’s precisely what Az is going to tell you. He has that look on his face that he usually gets when you’re about to do something stupid. The one where he chews the inside of his cheek and his eyes rove your face.

But then the word leaves him, quiet and a little breathless, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I accept your offer.”

He—damn. You didn’t think this far; suppose you didn’t expect him to actually agree. And yet here he is, agreeing.

Suddenly, you feel like you’ve never kissed anybody, either.

But you’re supposed to be guiding him here. So you sit up straight. Lift your chin. Azriel watches, eyeing you a little like you’re a creature he’s never seen before. The bewilderment on his face squeezes your heart a bit.

“Do you want to do it now?” You ask.

He swallows. And his eyes fall down to your lips before flicking back to meet yours. “I suppose there’s no time like the present.”

And there isn’t. The two of you are here alone, no background noise from Cassian or Rhysand to battle with. It’s just you and Azriel. Your eyes. Your mouths.

You realise you’re still holding his hand, and so you use it to pull him closer to you, slot him back between your legs. You’re certain he’s trembling, and you are, too.

“Just take your time.” You tell him. “Let your body lead. Do what feels natural.”

He gives a stiff nod. And pauses. “And you promise to be honest afterwards? About how it was?”

Your eyes soften. “Always, Az.”

He nods again, and then he’s sucking in a slow, steadying breath. You remain still, allowing him to make the first move, to do whatever he wants.

There’s a pause of heavy silence, and then he dips his head. Kisses you once.

It’s a quick, closed-mouth kiss. Sweet, if not a little stiff and awkward. But you know Azriel is testing the waters, deciding whether he truly wants to do this. If he surmises that he absolutely doesn’t, you’ll stop, say no more about it. You keep still and allow him to decide.

And when he pulls back to study you, you give him a reassuring smile. One that silently communicates, I’m fine, we’re fine, this is fine.

It seems to give him the little boost he needs.

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. Slowly, he slips his hand out of yours, and you allow him to. You watch as he inches even closer. Moves his hands up to rest at either side of your face.

When he’s cupping your cheeks, his eyes meet yours, and he whispers. “Is this okay?”

You squeeze his forearm once. “It’s fine, Az. Do whatever you feel you want to do. I’ll tell you if I don’t like anything.”

He nods, and his gaze drags down to your lips. You’re still, careful, not moving until he’s ready to. And maybe he’ll not feel ready. Maybe he’ll stop this and pull back and decide it’s a terrible idea—

No.

Azriel’s thumb sweeps over your cheek. And then he leans in and presses his mouth to yours a second time.

This time, it’s different — you can tell straight away.

It starts out slow, his lips exploring yours, moulding to the shape of them. The kiss is a caress on your mouth, and it’s a damn good start. You find yourself leaning into it. Kissing back.

For a split second, you feel Az pause. But then his hand is cupping your cheek firmer, the heat of his palm meeting the heat of your face and making you forget how cold you were only minutes ago. Az’s lips part, and so naturally, yours do the same. You kiss him gladly.

And he’s not bad at all. You’ve kissed far more experienced males with far worse technique. Azriel may be nervous and tentative, but there’s something there, lurking beneath the surface. Something that will grow with the right encouragement, the right amount of confidence.

You…you want to give him both.

But it’s important to remember why you’re doing this. For his sake. So he can comfortably kiss the female he’s interested in.

You part from him momentarily, his breath fanning your lips as you ask him, “Are you doing okay?”

“I am.” There’s a rasp to his voice. “Are you?”

“I’m doing great.”

And you are. The weight of Azriel’s hand on your cheek is surprisingly pleasant. This exploration is new, and it’s thrilling, and it’s nice. It feels…nice.

“Do you want to keep going?” You know what you want to do. “Or would you like to stop? Whatever you want, Az.”

He swallows again. “I want to keep going.”

You nod, and in gentle encouragement, you move your hands to rest at his waist. You must be imagining the slight tremor that wracks through Azriel’s body in that moment. Or perhaps it’s just a coincidence.

There’s no time to think, because he dips his head and catches your lips faster this time. He tilts your head up, applying a little bit of pressure to your mouth. Your lips part, and so do his.

Az’s tongue seems to tease the seam of your lips. And then he slides it into your mouth.

His taste invades you so suddenly, so thoroughly, that you gasp. It’s something rough and smoky. Rugged and pleasant. You can’t think of the exact words as his tongue meets yours, and nor do you care to. All you want to do is reciprocate. Kiss him.

You scoot forward on the table, lifting yourself up slightly to add a touch more fervour to the kiss. Your tongue rolls around Azriel’s, and it’s so damn good, so damn sinful, so damn unexpected.

You’re aware, somewhat, of Azriel’s hand slipping from your cheek and resting at the column of your neck. And he licks at the roof of your mouth, and at your tongue, and somehow at every part of you that has you wanting more. His lips work perfectly with yours, not faltering once.

In that moment, you might forget who you are and what your life story is, but you don’t think you’ll ever forget this — this kiss of pure, salacious, unguarded need. If this is what Azriel kisses like for the first time, you can’t imagine how he could possibly progress. How it could get better than this.

One of you makes a needy little noise — you think it might have come from him, but it lands in your mouth, anyway. And then you’re being yanked closer, and your hands are moving up to tangle within Azriel’s hair, and you’re tugging the strands and pulling him against you and kissing him so desperately that you’re sure you’re going to feel it days, weeks, months from now. Azriel’s fingers knead the back of your neck, and your legs snake around his waist, locking him in.

There’s movement. Natural, pleasant movement — you, him, both of you together, moving and shifting.

You don’t know at which point you’re lying back on the table, or which of you made it happen; but suddenly Azriel is hovering over you, his body flush to yours, too-hot parts of you meeting too-hot parts of him.

The kiss is burning, and needy, and you writhe beneath him, and he writhes on top of you, and he’s pressing against you, and you both groan.

And then Az breaks away.

He doesn’t move far — just rips his lips from yours.

You’re both panting, breathing so hard that your heaving chests touch with every breath. Azriel blinks down at you, and you blink up at him.

And in that moment, you become aware of just how far this has slipped. He’s basically lying on top of you, his body moving with yours. Your scents have changed and combined, and you both know what the earthier, deeper quality to them means.

That you got a little carried away. And this needs to stop — now.

Azriel stares down at you, panting against your mouth as your heart thunders in your ears.

“Fuck.” Is all he says.

azriel tags: @hanasakr @positivewitch @ruler-of-hades @brekkershadowsinger @nightscourtt @imperfect0angel @luna-1-3-5 @hyacinthoideshispanica @lucyysthings @lahoete @littlemoonash @blacksstarrynight @azriels-mate123 @ghostly-poetic @frieddesigninspiringquotesslime @a-frog-with-a-laptop @illyriansimp @morrie-rose @passingthroughfireandshadow @illyrian-dreamer @azrielsbabyg @96jnie @mich0731 @mulansaucey @truthtellerfanclub @acourtofbooksandmagic @insightsonmylife @basicbittywitty @curbside-cyanide @acourtofchaosandmess @123345566 @starrynights-frostbites @eos-princess @thesillyyogourt @ona-raising-07-l @acediahamartia @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @polli05927 @asdfjklbooks @azriel-luvr @amysangel @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @wildflowernightmere @audie-writes @aaronwarnerswifereal @starxqt @lulufairbank @laurzwrites @livelaughlovenestaarcheron @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

Your back! Hi! :D Ok, the guys adore and are protective of their female human best friend (fem reader). She shares a strong bond with them, and they with her. So, if she ever gets injured or sick, the guys are protective for a while. She is ready to help them again (as much as she can with being a human and all) but what she doesn't realize is that this time it's close to their spring season, making them very protective, territorial, and aggressive to outsiders. How would this play out as they are close to their primal time of the year, and she wants to go with them as they're about to leave on patrol, but they won't let her? Fluffy ending. ���(maybe some turtle noises and behaviors too)

Protective TMNT headcanons—reader wants to come on patrol

Bayverse, 2003, or 2012 if it suits ya. 🤷‍♀️. SFW! Mentions of "spring season" for the boys but nothing s*xual. hope u like it @pokemew119 !

Leonardo:

• Like Leonardo, we'll be straight to the point with this one—he's not going to want you going out with them. Normally, he doesn't want you to. Now he really doesn't want you to

• Due to their biology, springtime can be pretty dreadful for the bunch (for Splinter, too, he's the one having to manage them). Aggression, sensitivity, protectiveness, fussing over their rooms, etc. So you asking Leo to go out on their nightly patrol with them was a "this really isn't a good time" moment for him

• "The Lair is warm and safe, why would you want to come out here, anyways? Leave the fighting to me. That's what I'm here for, that's my job."

• Can be a little bit of an ass about it ngl, because he just wants to know you're home with someone he actually trusts to protect you, their father

• You heard Leo bark your name as you started up the ladder out of the sewers. Blue eyes giving you a suspicious look. You were trying to sneak topside so you'd be out there before he was able to protest. "No, no, go ask Master Splinter to show you some stuff if you want something to do so badly."

• Pats you along back to the Lair, watching to make sure you actually go back inside

• If you DO end up out there with them, he's going to be stressing a little more than usual about the setup because it throws him off having someone he feels he needs to constantly look out for, unlike his brothers who are more or less self-sufficient. But you bet you're always going to be his first priority, no hesitation

Michelangelo:

• For once, the heightened senses of springtime had Mikey thinking slightly more rationally than usual

• "Babycakes, you sure you want to come? It's ugly out there, smells bad, full of dudes always asking for a beat-down, maybe you should stay." Ruffles your hair for reassurance. "We can play games when I get back!"

• Secretly tries to dissuade you from even wanting to go out with them in the first place with promises of fun back at home

• If you do go anyways, he's taking every chance to show off his nunchaku skills

• Gets annoyed at his siblings for taking your attention away from him (oop there's the possessiveness)

• Very touchy, constantly hanging off of you or trying to play-fight, sit close to you on the sofa, scoot his chair towards you at dinner, etc.

• You ask if you can go with them on their way out and you catch Mikey

• He smiles big and sheepishly shakes his head, "Sorry, y/n, not tonight! You're kickin' back in my beanbag tonight and hanging out, not running around New York." End of conversation. You try to say something, he interrupts you, thumping your shoulder. "I'll text you! See ya, angel!"

• More passive about his protectiveness and isn't so outright about it like Leo, but on the inside, still doesn't fully understand why he feels that way (even though Donnie has explained over and over again)

Donatello:

• "You want to come out with us? Not gonna work, y/n, this is real stuff," he said amicably, raising his brow ridges. "There's been a three-point-four percent increase in crime rate just around the next four blocks, and that's with us kicking tail every other night. Statistically, you're liable to become a target and..."

• Donnie gets real irritable in spring and tends to avoid his brothers, argues with Leo about about their rooming situation bc he wants to be alone (except for with you)

• Sets up an entire cozy corner in his lab for you to chill in while he's gone and hopes you'll use it, even though he'd definitely rather be home and not topside at this time

• When you ask him to tag along on their patrol, he starts spouting off all the reasons you shouldn't and ultimately wins that debate

• Compromises by letting you man his tracking/observation station and communicating with them on their missions from the sewers

• He actually loves knowing you're on tap while he's out in the city and he can just radio in whenever he feels like it

• "See, isn't being our control center way better?"

Raphael:

• Raph already has a huge attitude problem, make that tenfold in spring.

• Gets waaaaay too overprotective at times, verges on bothersome levels of spazzing over what you do and where you go

• "You wanna go on patrol? With us? Just, out in New York City? With the Foot? Ahah, ain't happening, y/n. 'You said 'maybe' last time?' Well, I'm sayin' no, this time. You'll be bored?" He shrugs. "Watch TV or something. But you're not comin'."

• If you do somehow manage to go (highly unlikely), he's going to be grumpy and complain the whole time because he's secretly just worried and his hormones are out of whack

• Gets overly aggressive defending you from anything and probably stirs up more conflict over it tbh

• "It ended up fine that time, but don't do that again, ya hear?" He doesn't want to seem like he cares too much, so he flicks your head. (That man is head over heels for you)

[wheeboo]

run to you | lee chan

SYNOPSIS. in which your best friend picks you up in the middle of the night. PAIRING. biker!best friend!lee chan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, lil angst, best friends to lovers WARNINGS. cursing, implied that reader lives in a troubled household, lil description of a twisted ankle, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.7k

notes: finally have something written for dino!! i haven't written anything for him in a HOT min that this almost feels out of character for some reason 😭 anyways enjoy <3

Chan doesn't understand why simply the sight of your name lighting up his phone has his heart quickening, head spinning, and adrenaline rushing all in a single moment. But he doesn't give it much thought, his hand instinctively pressing the answer button as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

He brings his phone up to his ear, calling out your name, "Y/N?"

"Hey, um..." Your voice is shaky on the other line, barely above a whisper, laced with something that sounds suspiciously like pain, and it sends a snake of worry up his back. "...can you do me a favour real quick?"

Chan glances at the time on his phone for a brief second, brows furrowing at the late time displayed on the screen. He sits up in bed, already somehow feeling more awake than just a few seconds ago. "Yeah, uh, what's up?"

Silence hangs heavy in the air, heavier than the late-night quiet pressing against Chan's window. He can almost hear your nervous inhale and picture the hesitant frown on your face.

"I left my... well, actually my entire skateboard bag... at your place," You admit quietly, sheepishly. "Could you possibly... drop it off at my door? It's really late, I know, but𑁋"

"Where are you?" Chan asks frantically and seriously that it cuts you off. He hears the way your breath hitches in your throat at the tone of his voice, and it only makes him more apprehensive and his heart hammering against his ribs anxiously. "Are you at the skate park?"

Crap, he knows. He always knows. "Look, I just... needed to clear my head and took a little fall. I'm fine, can you just𑁋"

"Stay put," he commands, leaving no room for argument. "I'm coming to get you."

"What? No, Chan, it's fine𑁋"

He cuts you off, refusing to hear your protests. "Don't move. I'll be there in ten."

He hangs up before you can utter another word, quickly tossing a shirt on and grabbing his keys, helmet (and a second one), and of course, your skateboard bag. As Chan throws the bag over his shoulder, a sharp pang of worry hits him. He knows you're downplaying the fall and everything else going on, but the tremor in your voice paints a different picture in his mind, and he seems to be listening to his heart more than he ever thought he would.

All he could think about is you.

Chan knows not to pry, but it isn't the first time this has happened𑁋where you 'clear your head' in the middle of the night and run away from home for a few hours. But the thought of you alone and hurt gnaws at him more than he cares to admit.

Pushing aside the questions and worries for later, Chan rushes out the door, the roar of his motorcycle echoing through the hushed night. His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. As he speeds towards the familiar silhouette of the skate park, a million scenarios play in his mind, each one twisting his gut tighter. He forces them down, focusing only on one𑁋getting to you and making sure you're okay.

The wind whips past Chan's helmet, carrying with it the sting of the cool night air and the echo of your shaky voice. He rounds the last corner, the skate park coming into view, bathed in the dim glow of a streetlamp. He catches a single glance of your figure leaning against wall with your skateboard abandoned not that far away, and his heart jumps into his throat.

He throws the bike into a skid that leaves a dark streak on the pavement, the gravel crunching beneath his tires and the engine sputtering to a halt just beside you. You flinch at the sudden noise, looking up with wide, surprised eyes. Before you can speak, he's already hopping off and jogging towards you.

Something jumps in your stomach when he takes off his helmet, the streetlamp above illuminating the worry etched on his features and windswept, messy hair. Chan kneels before you, the gravel biting into his knees as his gaze takes note of the way you're gingerly clutching down at your ankle.

The concern in his eyes makes your defenses crumble. You open your mouth to explain, but he silences you with a gentle hand on your knee.

"Don't talk," he murmurs, voice surprisingly soft. "Let me see."

He gently pushes your hand away, his touch sending a spark through your already jittery nerves, calloused fingers lightly brushing against away the dirt clinging to your slightly swollen ankle. You wince at the contact, breath hitching at the unexpected touch. It's not painful, but it's strangely electrifying.

"It looks swollen," he states, carefully brushing his thumbs over the affected area. "Can you put any weight on it?"

You hesitantly try to wiggle your toes, wincing when a sharp pain shoots up your leg.

"Fuck, ow," You whisper, biting your lip. You feel the shame and embarrassment burn at your cheeks, making you want to sink into the cool concrete beneath you.

He's always right; you weren't fine. You hadn't been fine for a long time, but admitting it to yourself felt like opening a dam of emotions you weren't sure you could contain the longer you stay here, and you aren't sure if Chan being in front of you was helping with that or not.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Chan asks, voice a low rumble that vibrates through the gravel where he kneels. You can't help but meet his gaze, searching for judgment, but finding only concern and a hint of something deeper you couldn't decipher, or didn't want to acknowledge.

You shrug, hating how weak the gesture feels, pulling back your leg away from him slightly. "It's okay, just a twist."

Chan's jaw clenches, the concern on his face morphing into something else, something you couldn't quite place. "Just a twist? Y/N, it's the middle of the night, you're alone at the skate park, and you can barely stand. It's not okay."

You feel your chest tighten. "I told you I just needed to get some air. You didn't have to come if you didn't want to. I'm fine."

His eyes narrow, and you catch a glimpse of something raw and intense flickering in them.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" he asks, coming out a bit harsher than intended. "What if you... what if something bad happened and you couldn't call for help? Do you think I wouldn't want to be the one to find you?"

His words hit you like a physical blow. You flinch, the vulnerability you'd so carefully guarded threatening to spill out. God, you hate that he could see through you, hate that he cares so much, hate that you couldn't hate it no matter how much you tried.

"No," You mumble, swallowing back the heat threatening in your eyes. "I don't think you're stupid. It's just..." Your voice trails off.

"It's just what?" Chan demands, voice tight. "Just another night where you disappear and leave me wondering if you're okay? I would never forgive myself if something were to happen to you."

His words suspend heavy in the air, the only sounds coming from the occasional crickets and the rhythmic thump of your heart echoing loudly in your ears. You could only stare at Chan, his intense gaze boring into you, and feel a dam within yourself start to slowly crack.

Chan lets his eyes roam over you, and a twinge of guilt seems to twitch at his lips, his eyes softening noticeably, but barely. He lets out a sigh.

"Come on," he says firmly. "I can't let you stay here alone, not tonight. Let me take you back to my place, okay?" His eyes hold yours for a beat longer than necessary, a silent plea struggling beneath the surface.

He rises from the ground and offers you his hand. The heat radiating from his skin sends a familiar jolt through you. Hesitantly, you place your hand in his, his fingers warm and calloused as they intertwine together clumsily, like you're testing some type of waters. Then he lifts you with surprising ease, the sudden movement sending a fresh wave of pain shooting through your ankle, making you tighten your grip on his hand.

"Sorry," he murmurs, concern flickering in his eyes. "Let me know if it's too much."

You shake your head, unable to find your voice. You're a tangled mess of emotions𑁋relief, embarrassment, and a fluttering nervousness that you can't quite explain. He helps you onto the back of his motorcycle and secures the extra helmet around your head, before stepping away to collect your skateboard from the ground. Then you feel his hand cup over yours, bringing it to secure around his waist, the warmth of his body pressed against yours sending shivers down your spine.

"Hold on tight," he instructs. As the engine rolls to life, you feel the vibration through your body, and you scoot yourself impossibly closer to him, tightening your hold around his abdomen even more.

The ride to his apartment is a blur of streetlights and rushing wind. You cling to him even more, not entirely sure if it's for balance or something more, but it's awfully comforting and... intimate.

You lean your head on his back and breathe in the familiar scent of leather and warmth that seems to calm you more than it should. Shifting your eyes up, you steal a glance at Chan, the moonlight casting long shadows across his determined jaw and windblown hair. You can feel his muscles tense and relax with every shift of the bike, and a strange sense of safety washes over you. You feel a slight tug at your lips at the thought.

As the motorcycle comes to a stop outside Chan's apartment, you linger for a moment, the gentle rumble of the engine fading into the quiet night as he puts it into park. The warmth of his body still lingers onto yours as he takes off his helmet and hops off the bike, before turning around to help with yours.

The brush of your hands against each other sends a jolt through the two of you. Chan quickly pulls away, his hand hovering awkwardly by your helmet, but the heaviness in the air lingers. You look up at him, his gaze flickering between your face, before he fully slips the helmet off your head, hand lingering in the strands of your hair for a moment.

He clears his throat, looking away briefly before meeting your eyes again.

"I, uh... should get you inside," he finally says.

You only give a nod. But as you attempt to step off the bike, the pain in your ankle shoots up your leg, bringing a wince to your face.

"Here," Chan says quickly, kneeling before you again. "Let me help."

He carefully scoops you up in his arms, the familiar scent of leather and warmth enveloping you once more. This time, you don't try to pull away, your heart pounding against his chest as he carries you inside.

He takes you to his kitchen, helping you sit on top of the counter, and you can't help but let out a quiet, soft sigh of relief. As he draws away from you to rummage through the drawers, you glance around his kitchen, noting the small stack of dishes in the sink, the motorcycle magazines scattered across his little eating area, and an empty bowl of cereal𑁋a glimpse into his life you hadn't seen before.

It's silent when it all happens, almost too silent it's suffocating. But as Chan comes back to you with an ice pack and a bottle of pills, you could only watch him. The soft light from the hanging lamp above bathes his face in a warm glow, and you catch the way his gaze lingers on your face a moment too long.

He reaches out, gently placing the ice pack on your swollen ankle. His touch is light, almost tentative, yet the cold feeling makes you flinch, but Chan's hand rests gently on the skin above your ankle, the other cupping at your knee. There's a part of you that wants to pull away from him, from everything happening right now, but you don't. You don't want to. You can't. He's worried, frustrated, and maybe even a little hurt, and you understand why. You've pushed him away again, and he's tired of it.

"I..." You start, a tremor betraying your words. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Chan glances up at you. "But you did," he replies lowly. "You always do. And it scares the hell out of me."

The tension hangs thick in the air as Chan's words sink in.

"I-I'm sorry, I really am," You mutter, swallowing down the lump in your throat. "It's just... things are hard at home, and I don't know how to deal with it. Being away just seems to... clear it all up a little bit, you know?"

"Then why run away when you can run to me?" He's standing right in front of you at this point, one hand still on your knee.

"Why do care you so much?" You counter almost defensively, feeling yourself tense right under his gaze.

"Because the more this happens, the more I realise I don't want to be your friend anymore," he answers simply, then lowers his voice. "I can't be... just your friend anymore when I want to be the person you run to."

The world freezes. Everything freezes, and you could only stare at him with widened eyes and a pure look of shock. Nothing but silence stretches between the two of you, and the hammering in your chest only grows stronger by each passing second.

Chan lowers his gaze to the floor, taking his hand off your knee and running it through his hair. "Fuck, I shouldn't have..." He catches a glimpse of the bottle of pain medication right next to you. "Let me get you some water𑁋"

"No, wait." You grab at his hand, causing him to halt, and he looks back at you. "Don't... go yet, please?"

Chan hesitates, before giving in, finding himself standing right back in front of you, the two of you almost eye-level. Except you shoot a quick look at his lips, then up to his eyes, before letting the hand wrapped around his wrist pull him even closer to you, to the point where he's almost standing between your legs.

His breath hitches from the sudden closeness, but he shouldn't be like this right now. Not when you're hurt and vulnerable. He can't tell you that he wanted you the moment you met two years ago when you rolled past him one day on the way to the same skate park, can't tell you that he would choose you over everything else in a heartbeat.

But all those thoughts are pushed away the moment he feels your lips on his, and his hands come naturally to your waist, as if afraid you might slip away. His lips seemingly mold perfectly with yours, and you can feel the longing in the way his fingers seem to tighten its hold on your shirt.

Your lips part for a brief moment, and there's a long moment that passes before Chan leans in again, capturing your mouth a bit more fervently, a bit more passionately than before, yet nonetheless still sweet and tender. The world outside disappears, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, the soft hum of the refrigerator, the ticking of the clock on the wall, and the gentle glow of the kitchen light above.

When you both pull away, there's a breathless pause.

"Are you... are you okay?" he asks cautiously. "I'm sorry, it just..."

"No, I'm... I should say sorry for... everything," You cut him off. "I shouldn't have made you worried or... pushed you away. I'm sorry."

"All I ever want is to make sure you're okay, Y/N." His hand is back at your knee again, finger tracing reassuring shapes, easing the tension out of your body.

You let out a nervous, light-hearted chuckle. "We're not even together yet and I'm already causing you so much trouble."

Chan's expression softens, and he cups your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin.

"Who said I wasn't yours yet?" He leans back in, teasing his lips back against yours. "I can be, if you want me to be."

another note: ending is a lil rushed im sorry oops i wrote this rlly late 😭

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @aaniag @wootify @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @phenomenalgirl9 @roziees @mirxzii @bookyeom

[cece693]

Ok uh Hi am new to this I just saw the " brilliant " fic which was 👏🏻👏🏻. Sooo I was wondering if u can make a fluff fic about clint barton x male reader, if thats ok with you?

Farm Boy (Clint Barton x Male Reader)

Hello! I'm actually not that much of a Hawkeye fan so it took me a while to write this and find motivation, but I think it turned out alright. Hope you enjoy it!

Clint Barton rarely got a day off. Between Avengers missions, SHIELD calls, and the occasional intergalactic catastrophe, his time at home was precious and fleeting. But today? Today was all his. All theirs. The sun was just peeking over the horizon when Clint stretched out in bed, the familiar creak of the old farmhouse adding to the peaceful ambiance. Beside him, you were still curled up in the covers, your hair tousled and your breathing soft. Clint smiled lazily, taking a moment to watch you before slipping out of bed as quietly as he could.

The kitchen smelled like coffee and bacon a half hour later. Clint hummed to himself as he flipped pancakes, a skill honed over years of needing to impress his husband after burning a few too many breakfasts in the early days of your relationship.

“Is that bacon I smell, or am I dreaming?” Your groggy voice drifted into the kitchen, accompanied by the sound of your socked feet shuffling across the hardwood floor.

Clint turned with a grin, a spatula in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. “Morning, sleepyhead. I figured I’d let you sleep in for once, but your stomach had other plans, huh?”

You chuckled, pulling him into a quick kiss before stealing the coffee. “You know me too well.”

The morning passed in a haze of quiet domesticity. Clint insisted on dragging you outside after breakfast, despite your protests about the slight chill in the autumn air. The two of you spent hours tending to the garden, chasing a rogue chicken that had escaped its coop, and splitting logs for the fire pit. It wasn’t glamorous, but that was the point. It was simple, real, and yours.

By late afternoon, the sun was hanging low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the farm. Clint had convinced you to take a break on the porch swing, a thick blanket draped over both your laps. He leaned back, one arm around your shoulders, the other hand fiddling with a mug of cider.

“This,” Clint said, breaking the comfortable silence, “is what I miss the most when I’m away. Just being here with you. No explosions, no supervillains, no crazy missions. Just us.”

You smiled, leaning into his side. “You’re going to make me cry.”

“Don’t cry, babe. I’ll just have to kiss it all better, and that sounds like a lot of work,” he teased, though his lips were already pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

You turned to face him, eyes soft as you brushed a hand through his hair. “You know you’re a lot more than just Hawkeye to me, right? You’re my Clint. My husband. The guy who makes terrible pancakes and hogs the blanket at night.”

He smirked. “Terrible pancakes? You ate three of them this morning.”

“Details,” you replied with a grin, leaning up to kiss him. Clint melted into it, his hand coming up to cradle your face, the moment stretching out like a scene from a romance movie.

As the sky turned shades of pink and orange, Clint sighed contentedly, pulling you closer. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this life with you, but I’m not letting it go. Ever.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, your fingers intertwining with his. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go, either.” The two of you stayed on the porch swing long after the sun disappeared, wrapped in each other’s warmth, soaking up every second of Clint’s rare, perfect day off.

[robiinurheart33]

(Flashes my mind beams) Soap having really bad nightmares whenever his mental health is low.

It’d be really bad most of the time, waking up covered in sweat, panting or just outright screaming. The dreams would have felt so real, so lifelike that it would shake johnny down to his core, needing time to fully process the dream and then calm down. It would board on topics such as his loved ones, phobias, worst case scenarios the whole nine yards. Often times when the nightmare cycle starts to happen, Johnny wouldn’t get much sleep at all and when he does he’s thrashing and shaking the entire time.

This would happen since young, but being raised in a catholic household as the middle child did not help at all. Most of the time when Johnny would try and confide in his parents, he would be dismissed with a “God is good.” Or “No evil against you shall prosper.” Which, I mean yeah but how does that help him in any way?! He just wants to be comforted. He had dreams where his sisters died, and he would go straight to them to hug them as tightly as possible, no matter how much they protested. Nothing seemed to work to bring the nightmares down unless Johnny’s mental health actually got better.

It only got worse in the army. The screaming, gunfire and mental strain Soap had to go through was excruciating. He woke up panting and covered in cold sweat, hoping he wasn’t screaming in his sleep and waking others up. Once, early on when 141 was just created, Ghost walked into the shared pantry only to find a sweat-faced, pale, bloodshot eyed soap munching on cereal, staring off into space. He made his tea and walked out of there as fast as he could.

As they got closer together, Ghost eventually asked Soap about that one instance. Soap wasn’t even aware Ghost was in the kitchen in the first place. He tried to explain, as casual as he could, that he gets horrific realistic nightmares when his mental health goes to shit. Soap isn’t sure if he actually manages to play it off seeing as he cant exactly gauge Ghost’s reaction, but that was that.

He eventually forgot about it until about 2 years later, when they both start to float on the same wavelength and sleep in the same bed (wink wink) that it happens for the first time. The first nightmare that he experiences around Ghost is extreme. He dreams of metal and blood, screaming and frustration. Johnny wakes up screaming, a hand over his mouth and back covered in sweat. Ghost is up in a millisecond, gun drawn and up from the bed. They’re both equally disoriented, confused as to what was happening. Ghost looks over to Soap where he’s panting, eyes bloodshot and eyebags evident. He’s seen this somewhere before.

Gun immediately tossed to the side, Ghost rushes to Soap’s side, not sure what to do but wanting to help. He’s still processing what just happened, unable to speak and eyes just trained on his lap. Ghost flickers open the lamp, sitting right beside Johnny, not speaking but just being there, his presence a solid wall he can lean on. After what feels like 4 hours (it was 10 minutes), Johnny finally looks at Simon, eyes full of tears and body trembling. He cant take it anymore. Simon rushes to place their bodies close together, Johnny’s ear against his chest as he murmurs affirmations.

“You’re here with me. I got you. You’re safe.”

They didn’t go back to sleep after that, getting up at the peak hour of 4am to go for an early early morning jog. This wouldn’t be the solution to the nightmares all the time, however. Sometimes it would just be Johnny listening to Simon’s heartbeat, a cup of warm coffee, a comfort show, spacing out, drawing, or a morning run. It just depended on his mood after he woke up. But one constant was that Simon was always right beside him, accompanying him in whatever he did. It didn’t matter if Johnny protested, he would always wake up along with him and stay right by his side. As long as Johnny had Simon, he wouldn’t have to be alone to face on his demons ever again. He made sure of that.

[justastraymoa]

Yet Unnamed

Chapter 2

Masterlist | Ch 3.

Korean is in italic.

Warnings for Yet Unnamed: Kidnapping, cuffs, injuries, drugging by injection, mentions of needles, lots of swearing, kissing, fluff, angst, idiots in love all around.

Nothing within reflects anyone or anything irl. Pics off pinterest.

Twenty minutes later, all 4 of you were in a car heading to the Stray Kids apartment.  Something you would have killed for in the past.  But now you were nervous.  Your leg kept bouncing unconsciously, and you kept your gaze out the window, lip between your teeth.

“Why did you 3 stay behind?”  You ask mainly to distract yourself from the situation.  You understood why they sent Changbin away.  If he was truly ready to get violent, then that wasn’t a good thing, and it was for the best that he was removed from the situation.  And the temptation.

“We are the nicest, and Hyung is the leader.”  Han shrugged simply.

Honestly, valid.  If any of them were going to put someone at ease, it would be the sunshine twins.

Felix reached over and brushed your arm lightly with his fingertips.  He had been doing this every few minutes since he was forced to let go of your hands.  It was almost like he needed to make sure I was real.  That I was actually here and solid and okay.

With a sigh that was half fond, you roll your eyes and grab his hand, lacing your fingers firmly with his.  Contact may help your nerves anyway.  It was a win-win.  Felix did seem to visibly relax in his seat, face smoothing out and looking content.

Chan looked back from the front seat.  He had been texting on his phone for almost the whole ride.  “I have someone bringing you clothes and a phone.”  He informed you.  “Here, text them anything else you want.”  He handed you back his phone without hesitation.

“Can you do that?  Just hand your phone to some rando you just met?”  You ask not moving to take the device.  You didn’t know how it worked for him, but you had all kinds of information on your phone.  Passwords, noods, bank numbers, you name it!  You could do all sorts of things with his phone if you had the intention to.

Your fangirl heart was really struggling today.  You are not sure how you weren’t screaming and crying being so close to 3 members of Stray Kids.  You were even almost calmly holding Felixs hand!  THE BangChan was now handing you his PERSONAL PHONE!   That’s it!  You can’t!  You just can’t!

Chan patiently continues to hold the phone out to you.  “You could argue that my soul has known yours for a long time, so we aren’t strangers.  Plus, you aren’t some rando.  You are our soulmate.  I would give you anything.”

Blushing, you take the phone gingerly.  It was opened to an ongoing text chain with someone named Dohyun.  The chain started in Korean but transitioned to English.  You didn’t think they realized you could read and write Korean fluently since you were 6 years old.  Your grandfather was a very traditional man and insisted on it.  He taught you all about your heritage.  Even on his deathbed, he was giving you last-minute lessons.

You kept hold of Felixs hand even as you used both yours to start typing in English.  It was sneaky and shady, but you wanted to see – or well hear – what they would say if they didn’t know you could understand them.  And it’s not like they ever asked, and you lied about knowing Korean.  They just assumed.

The first thing you did was send them your bank info and very strict instructions to use only your money.  You would not let yourself be indebted to them.  Well, any more than you already were.  You weren’t keeping track, but since they kidnapped you, you felt like you were pretty even right now, with them letting you stay with them, and you wanted to keep it that way.

You could feel Felix reading over your shoulder, but he didn’t protest.  He just watched in silence as you made your list and gave them clothing sizes and preferences.  You only needed enough to get by for now.  You had stuff back at your house, and anything else you could shop for yourself.

“Did I miss anything?”  You ask Felix after coming up on nothing else to add for a long minute.

Felix hummed as he thought.  “Do you want your own bedsheets or anything?”  He asked.  You shake your head.  You could use what they had already.  No use spending money on that.

Han leaned in to look, but didn’t give any suggestions, so you sent the message and handed Chan his phone back before your inner demons won and you started to look through his phone and invade his privacy and trust.  You were only human, after all.

Chan scanned the text but also didn’t say anything about your instructions to only use your money.  You choose to believe it was them respecting your wishes and not something else odd or secret going on like the dark part of your brain was trying to tell you it was.

When the car finally slowed and came to a stop, you didn’t move to get out.  Instead, you looked out the window again at the very imposing building you would be living in.  You were not a big city person.  You avoided large crowds for the most part.  So this extremely tall and glittery building was overpowering to you.

“This had been a very hard day for me.”  You say quietly to no one in particular.  You didn’t know how to describe everything you were feeling.  How mixed your thoughts were.  The ups and downs you have been through over the last few hours alone.  You could feel your mind and emotions wanting to go numb, comfortably blank.  You could feel yourself fighting to not shut down.  There was still a lot to do yet before you could.

Chan reached and patted your knee lightly.  “I warned them to give you some space tonight.  Lino made you some dinner, but he and Hyunjin headed out for the evening.”

“What about Seungminnie and Ayen?”  Han asked.

You were thankful they were giving you a few minutes more to get ready.  Also that you weren’t going to be bombarded by the other members of the group just yet.

“And Bin Hyung?”  Felix asked, back to stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Min and Ayen went to practice some more.  They said they would be there until late.  Bin refused to leave.  He is still worked up.  Y/n, he is a clinger, and since he was so affected by what they did to you, he will most likely be worse than usual. Just be prepared, and don't be afraid to tell him to back off if you need to. He will get over it."

You nod absently, already knowing that you will welcome the cuddles after the day you have had. Especially since it will bring more comfort to the space in your chest that the others affect.

Just four. You could handle one more person for sure. And food sounded amazing. You hadn't had anything since breakfast the day you were kidnapped. Whenever that was. At this point, you didn't know. Was it a day ago? Two days? Time was gone at this point. And right now, you didn't care to figure it out. It could wait until tomorrow. It would right itself eventually. When it mattered. When you needed it.

Now that you were thinking about food, your stomach clenched in hunger. You were thankful it didn't make an embarrassing sound like it always did in anime's.

"Is Lee Know really a good cook or is that just hype?" You ask, both out of curiosity and to buy yourself more time.

Han laughed. "Oh, it's not hype. It's amazing!" His laugh made you smile.

Felix tugged on your hand. "C'mon. We got you." He spoke lowly, giving the illusion of privacy.

His assurance, however, did help a bit, and you gave him a nod. As if waiting for a cue you didn't see or hear, the door was opened, and you were on your way to the apartment. You kind of felt odd. Out of body.

Chan barely guided you through the door before a large set of arms engulfed you. You blink and freeze in confusion.

"Bin, give her a minute!" Chan chastised behind you.

You take a deep breath and wave him off. Using the hand not still holding Felixs to rub down Changbins spine in soothing long strokes. He shivered lightly in response.

After a minute, he let go and took a step back. "I'm sorry. Last time I saw you, you were so out of it and terrified. I haven't been able to get it out of my head." He shifted, not so subtly checking me over, eyes lingering on my bruised wrists and hands.

"Most of those are my fault. I broke out of two sets of zip ties before they used the metal cuffs." You shrugged. All those hours of doom scrolling through the clock app did actually do some good. You learned how to break zip ties. It gave you a chance to attempt to escape. You weren't successful in escaping, but you for sure made it difficult for them. And you were oddly proud of that fact.

Changbins face lit up with a smile, and you blinked, stunned. "What?" You asked.

"Out girl is a fighter! I'm just so proud!" He responded.

"Changbin!" Chan snapped. Probably because of the 'our girl' comment. You just chose to ignore it. Choose your battles and all that jazz.

You shrugged one shoulder. "I wasn't about to go down without a fight."

Changbins face dropped so abruptly into a dark mask that you had to stop yourself from stepping back automatically as a shiver of fear crawled up your spine. That look was downright terrifying. You never wanted that look aimed your way.

"What that asshole did to you was wrong! So wrong! And if they'd let me, I'd knock his lights out. Break his jaw so he could never give another idiotic order like that again!" He spoke lowly, calmly, which made it all the more terrifying.

"I'd let you. I'd join you. Hold him down for you." You respond without hesitation.

Han squeezed his way by. "Seriously, Bin. She hasn't eaten. Let her in." He spoke in Korean. You did your best to keep up the illusion. You couldn't understand what he said.

"Yes. Lee Know left food for all of you. I'm Changbin, by the way. Or Bin, Binnie, whatever you want to call me."

Why did they all feel the need to introduce themselves like they weren't famous? Just politeness? It was really hard not to respond sarcastically.

"Y/n." You introduced yourself as you walked into the apartment, and the smell of BBQed meat hit your nose. Your mouth immediately started to water, and you swallowed.

Felix let go of your hand in favor of diving for a plate of the steaming food that was sitting in 4 spots on the table. "Oh, it smells so good!" He moaned, taking a deep sniff close to the food.

You wholeheartedly agreed. You awkwardly sat and took the fork Chan offered me to replace the chopsticks they didn't know I could use. Another thing they just assumed instead of asking that you would let them think for a while.

You could feel their eyes on you as you took your first bite, and you tried not to be self-conscious and overthink how you chewed or anything like that. Focusing instead firmly on the food in front of you.

As soon as the flavor hit your tongue, you forgot all about them watching. It was a brand new flavor for you. Nothing like any BBQ chicken you have ever had before. It was amazing, and you took another bite before you even swallowed the first.

"Guess that means you like it." Chan chuckled, finally digging into his own food. You just nod, still chewing happily.

"Lino will be glad to hear it. I think he was a little nervous. He kept fiddling with it before Hyune finally dragged him away." Binnie revealed as he sat with us.

It was mostly silent as you all focused on the food. Your stomach was singing in praise at finally having something in it besides the tiny cup of water Felix gave you earlier.

"Did you have enough?" Bin asked as you finished up your last bite. You nod, rubbing your stuffed belly in contentment.

"That was very good, thank you. And thank Lee Know for me, please." You request.

"No problem." Chan started. "So, I'm sure you want to shower and stuff. I can show you to your room. It has a private bathroom. And I'm sure we can find you some clothes to wear until the personal shopper gets here. As long as you don't mind wearing our clothes." Chan stood and picked up all the dishes, placing them in the sink as he spoke.

I bit my cheek. There was no way there was an extra room with a private bath just sitting empty. "I don't mind borrowing clothes if you don't mind. But who's room am I stealing?"

"You didn't steal anything. I figured you would be more comfortable with your own bathroom."

So, Chans room then. That makes sense. He was the oldest. He would have the choice room.

Bin let you gently down a hall, hand just brushing the small of my back like he was afraid to touch me all of a sudden. the others followed like little ducklings. You laughed at the images that produced in your mind silently.

The room was simple and nice. Warm colors accented the plain white walls. Navy blue blanket on the nearly made bed. You suspected they were fresh blankets and sheets for you. It was also bare. Very little personal belongings, and you could see the drawers were empty.

"I moved in with Minnie. Figured you would need the drawers." Chan shrugged when he noticed my line of sight.

"We moved everything over while you were at JYPE. We were hoping you would choose to stay." Bin explained further.

You felt a little emotional. They had all already done so much for you. For your comfort. And you had displaced five of them. Four from the apartment and Chan from his room. You were for sure being annoying. A burden. "This is too much."

I watched as four faces fell and felt even guiltier. "What's wrong? You need us to leave?" Han asked, wringing his hands. It was a nervous habit of his you had noticed. One that STAY normally didn't get to see.

You waved your hands. "No, no! Not like that! I mean... I kicked four of you out of your home!"

"Y/n, they are fine for a few hours. They don't mind and they will come back later." Chan assured you. Bin nodded in confirmation.

You gestured around the room. "And you? I kicked you out of your room!"

Chan smiled and tucked a piece of stray hair from your face. You could feel how knotted it was. How unkempt and stringy. "We have all been dying to finally have you here. Everyone knows I don't sleep. So, I really don't need a room. I tend to sleep wherever I land that night. We all just want you to be comfortable and happy."

"You promise you won't get less sleep because of this - me. Any of you."

Chan's face softened into a look you didn't understand but made your stomach do a little flutter. "I promise, y/n."

The shower was perfect. Just this side of melting your skin off and a constant messaging water pressure that made you moan loudly and throw your head back.

You startle as there was a crash in the bedroom. "Everything okay?" You called, heart still racing a bit. You stopped moving, straining to listen for an answer.

"Yeah! Yupp! All good. Just...fell." Felixs voice came through the door, sounding muffled but strangely high pitched.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

"No, nope. I'm good. Um - I put some of Innie's clothes on the bed for you. They should work well enough."

You called out your thanks and went back to showering. You used what you assumed were Chans soaps. They smelled lightly fragranced. Like baby powder almost, but with a perfume edge. You were a fan.

When you were done and left the bathroom, you found a couple of pieces of clothes laid out on the bed. A pair of black boxers with chilis printed on them and a gray t-shirt. I slipped both on, swimming in the shirt, but comfy.

But what did you do now. No one was in the bedroom anymore. You were mentally exhausted and looked at the bed but weren't willing to get in it yet.

In the end, you silently crept from the room to find the others. Maybe chat or better yet watch TV. Something that uses no brainpower. Something mundane and normal.

The hall was still lit, and you could hear several voices. Maybe they were already watching TV. That would make it less awkward. You could just silently join them.

As soon as you stepped round the corner and into the living room, you almost ran right into I.N holding a glass of water. You both froze. You in shock, you didn't know the others came back yet.

I.N looked you over once before spitting out the water he had been holding in his mouth. "You gave her my underwear!" He screeched. The whole room was looking at you both now. Seungmin was sitting on the couch next to Chan.

Felix shrugged, unapologetic. "The only thing I could find that looked like it would fit and be comfortable to sleep in." He explained.

"Did I do something wrong?" You asked, very entertained by I.Ns reaction. You fiddle with the hem on the shirt.

"No!" Everyone in the room instantly replied. You blink owlishly at them. That was kind of intense.

Changbin made grabby hands at you from the loveseat he sat on. Your heart freaking melted at the adorableness.

"That was so fucking cute, oh my god!" You breath.

I.N snorted. You stick your tongue out at him as you pass to sit next to Changbin, which only made him snort again.

Changbin immediately pulled your legs over his lap and put an arm around the front of your hips. "Ayen and Minnie ended up coming home earlier than expected. Sorry."

You shrug. "It's their home. And I feel better after the shower. I'll be fine. Thank you."

"Bin, don't hog our girl!" Felix pouted, bouncing over on his tip toes.

Somehow, he managed to wedge himself onto the loveseat behind you. You were half sitting on his lap.

You had a feeling both Bin and Felix were going to be the clingiest ones. Not that you minded. You loved to cuddle. And so far, they were A class cuddlers.

There was some sitcom playing on the large TV. Someone even put english subtitles on for me.

A shiver ran through you, and goosebumps rose on your skin. Less than a minute later, a blanket was draped over your legs, and Seungmin was behind the loveseat rubbing a towel over your damp hair.

"Stupid. Your hair is still wet, and you aren't wearing enough. You're going to get sick." He grumbled, still drying my hair. You couldn't help but giggle. He was so aggressively caring.

When my hair was satisfactorily dry, he left and came back with a brush to gently untangle my mussed hair.

His fingers and the brush were so gentle in your hair that you could feel yourself drifting off. It had been such a long time since someone played with your hair like this. You forgot how relaxing it was.

You must have actually fallen asleep because next you looked the TV was off and it was just you, Bin, Felix, and I.N in the living room. You could hear the others nearby talking lowly and also some wet smacks you suspected were kisses.

"What time is it?" You mumble, rubbing your face on the back of the couch.

"Just after midnight." Felix answered quietly. You did fall asleep then. For several hours.

You move and stretch out so your top half was now in Felixs lap, already halfway asleep again. "Is that Lee Know and Hyunjin?"

There was a hum of affirmation, and Felix started running his fingers through your hair. You were asleep again seconds later, not even caring that you were laying in the laps of two men you had only just met.

~

General Taglist @stellasays45 @beebee18 @weird-bookworm @velvetmoonlght

Yet Unnamed Taglist: @fackeraccount @velvetmoonlght @hyunjinstolemyheart @vampkittenb82 @happy-jj @estella-novella @demigoddreamon-blog @tiana-maxivar @ms-flowergirl @jennibahng @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @mimimiloomeelomi

(If your tag isn't working i am unable to tag you for whatever reason. I'll keep you on and try every chapter.)

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men sharing a bed with (y/n) part lll

In case you haven't read the other parts yet, here they are: JJK men sharing a bed with (y/n) part l Satoru Gojo sharing a bed with (y/n) at a love hotel (part ll)

This is the first time ever that I'm writing for Yu and Choso, so please let me know what you think<3

Pairing: Toji x reader; Geto x reader; Yu Haibara x reader; Choso x reader

Word Count: 3,7k

Warnings: Some language, a loooot of fluff in every part!

Toji Fushiguro

You blink against your heavy lids, head pounding the second you are greeted the dim light of the room. Immediately, your body starts shivering from the cold that prevails wherever you are. What happened? How did you end up here? It looks like you’re in a basement, a stony and dirty one. Your trembling figure lays on top of a bed as it seems, feet chained to the frame. Fuck, how did you end up here?

“Oh, look who’s awake. Did take you quite some time, sweetheart.”

His voice sounds distant and unpromising, the cheeky tone vibrating in it sending shivers down your spine immediately

“Where am I?”, you question with surprisingly firm voice.

“Hm, to be honest I’m not sure. Are you comfy or do you need company?”

He steps into your sight and your breath hitches for a split second. Yes, the man standing in front of you is extremely handsome, with shoulders built like cannonballs and his tight shirt that shows every trained muscle of his body. And that face…oh, what a lovely face. But the darkness that radiates from his eyes makes your stomach drop. This man means nothing but trouble.

“Touch me once with your filthy hands and I’ll slice it off”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Desperately, your worn out body fights against the chains on your ankles as his frame draws closer, but there’s absolutely no chance for you to escape.

“I wonder how long it will take Jujutsu High to get that you’re gone”, he comments, hand gripping your chin firmly so you are forced to stare into his cold eyes.

“Huh, you’re quite handsome. No wonder that Gojo boy likes to spend time with you. You’re quite feisty though.”

You forcefully pull away from him and stare down at your shivering figure. They will find you, right? They just have to…

“Comfy, huh? I’m actually a little worn out myself, would you mind to scoot over a bit?”

“Stay. Away. From. Me.”

Your words are like venom, eyes so dangerously flashing at him that Toji escapes a chuckle.

“Your cold, bet I can warm you up a little.”

He doesn’t give a fuck about your little protest. Instead, he pushes you against the wall and lays besides you, body’s forced to touch inside the small bed.

You can’t help it. Before you get a grip of yourself, your cheeks turn dark red while you gaze at him through glittering eyes. Fuck, why does he have to smell so absolutely delicious? And the heat that radiates from his body seems to warm you through skin and bone.

“Hehe, I knew you’d like that. First time lying next to a real man I guess.”

“No, your just stinky”, you blurt out.

His face drops immediately, as well as what’s left of your sense of humor and spirit. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was a bad idea. A really really bad idea.

“You aren’t really in the position to have a big mouth, sweetheart.”

With a swift motion, he lays on top of you, gaze piercing through you as all you can do is to writhe underneath him. Fuck, this feels so good…What? You shake your head, try to calm your hammering heart down. What the hell has gotten into you?

His hand cups your face with a tenderness that you wouldn’t have believed he’s capable of while he eyes you up and down.

“You should be glad. Not many women end up in bed with me on top of them. Today is your lucky day”, he breathes out.

“That I don’t laugh”, you hush.

Your mind and heart are all over your place. Suddenly you aren’t cold anymore but burning hot, the sheer weight of his immense body seems to crush you.

But why on earth does it have to feel so good? This man kidnapped and chained you to this tiny bed. It is obvious that he only causes trouble, not even a gorgeous face can change that.  But the way he looks down at you, his firm body pressed against yours makes it harder second by second to not stretch out your arms to investigate the valleys of his tight muscles.

“You don’t seem to mind sharing a bed with me the way you press your legs together.”

Caught. You hold your breath and look at the ceiling. This will end horrible if you don’t start keeping your composure and stop acting like a horny teenager. This man is evil, he kidnapped you, you are his hostage-

Your hands hold onto his broad shoulder tightly, roaming all over his black shirt.

“Maybe just for a minute or two…”, you mumble.

Geto Suguru

Your heart skips a beat when you catch a glimpse of him and he perfectly made man bun through which you recognize him from miles away.

Geto Suguru is back. Finally, after days, he made it back to Jujutsu High. Your feet start running on their own, too impatient to wait another second.

“Woah, easy there (y/n)”, he laughs as you lung yourself at him and burry your face in the crook of his neck.

It was so easy to fall in love with Suguru, especially when the two of you spent so much time together.

“I missed you so much”, you mumble against his uniform, arms tightening around his chest as if your life depends on it.

“I missed you too, (y/n). Heard that Satoru wants to throw a party, do you know anything about it?”

With furrowed brows, you let go of him. A party? Satoru didn’t mention the slightest about it.

“No, I’m completely clueless. But I’m set on an important mission tomorrow anyway, so no alcohol for me”, you reply.

“Fair enough. Let’s get something to eat, okay. I’m starving.”

For the rest of the day, Gojo makes no secret out of the party he will throw that evening in his (and Suguru’s) dorm.

“I really hope you’ll catch some sleep tonight”, you comment while smiling at Gojo, who desperately tries to convince Nanami to come.

“If not, I’ll just sleep at your dorm. Be prepared”, Suguru jokingly remarks.

Your heart skips a beat. Suguru sleeping at your place? The thought alone makes your stomach flutter in excitement and your cheeks go red. Way too many nights you dreamed of this to happen, to experience what it’s like to rest your head against his chest while he wraps an arm around your shoulder while his even breaths brush over face gently. Gojo really doesn’t know how lucky he is to share a room with Suguru.

“I’ll be ready. Just knock on the door twice”, you giggle.

“Check. I have to get going now. See you tomorrow before your mission. Or tonight, who knows.”

Yeah, who knows?

- Later that evening –

Knock knock.

Your eyes snap open immediately. Did you dream that? Your still sleep drunken eyes dart towards the door. Oh, please let it be real. Let it be him.

“Suguru?”, you whisper into the darkness of the room.

No response. Maybe you just desperately hoped it to be him. It’s nothing new that Suguru haunts you even when you sleep after all. Your heart sinks, while you turn to the side. Hopefully he has a great night.

Knock knock.

Instantly, you sit bolt upright in bed. No, this wasn’t a dream. You heard it loud and clearly. Before thinking twice you get up and open the door only to get greeted by his smile.

Oh, that gorgeous smile.

“Is your offer still valid?”, he whispers into the peace of the night.

“Sure, come in…”

You didn’t get the chance to see him like that often, dressed in an oversized grey shirt, shorts and his messy hair let down. But he sure does look breathtaking. So breathtaking that you forget how to move for a moment.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Do I look this bed?”, he asks while scratching the back of his head.

“No, not at all. You look absolutely handsome”, you blurt out.

Screw your fast mouth, why can’t you think and then speak?

“Oh, don’t flatter me (y/n). Not when you’re the one that’s looking absolutely gorgeous at the moment.”

Your knees threaten to give in any minute, sleep-drunken eyes just staring at him in disbelieve. This has to be a wonderful dream, right? Like the ones you try to rewatch over and over again. But no, Suguru is standing right in front of you, his soft smell radiating from his stunning figure. This is very real.

He clears his throat.

“Looks like the party won’t end anytime soon and I’m just too worn out to be awake another minute. Would you mind going to sleep? I’ll take the floor.”

“No, absolutely not”, you protest.

No way in hell is Suguru sleeping on your floor after a difficult mission.

“I’ll sleep on the chair”, you suggest.

“No way in hell, (y/n). I’m your guest and you’re leaving for an important mission tomorrow.”

“Then we’ll have to share my bed I guess”, you say your thoughts out loud.

Thick silence hangs in the air. God, you wish the floor would swallow you whole. What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you suggest something so dumb? There is no way that Suguru wants to share a bed with you-

“If you don’t mind, I’m in”, he replies.

You have to blink a few times, did he really just say yes?

“Do you like sleeping on the wall?”

“Y-Yes…”, you stutter.

“Then get in.”

Your feet follow his instruction on their own, carrying you back into bed. The mattress gives in under his weight, causing your arm to slightly brush against his.

“Oh, I’m sorry”, you mutter awkwardly.

“Don’t be. I always liked to be touched by you”, he admits.

Your heart stops.

“(y/n), what I want to say is that…No bed is as comforting as spending my time with you. I just feel like I like you a little more than just as a friend…”

“I love you”, you breathe out without thinking twice.

God, how much you love Suguru Geto. No matter how long he’s gone, no matter how often you told yourself that there will never be more between both of you than a friendship, you always craved more.

You always graved him. Completely, everything from him.

He wraps his arms around you so tightly that you just know this has to be real. No more dreaming, no more imagining. Suguru is laying right by your side, holding you close to his body.

“Thank god Gojo throws that stupid party tonight”, he comments, hand gently caressing your face.

“Thank god this dream became real…”

Yu Haibara

You jump up and down in joy, giggling loudly at the sight in front of you. Finally, it is this time of the week again. The time of your movie night with Yu.

“I knew you’d love some sushi, so I thought I’d surprise you!”, he announces, smiling widely.

You don’t know how or when it started. Since you’re both in first class of Jujutsu High, you always spent a lot of time together. Right at the beginning you both discovered your passion for good films. One thing lead to another and now you’re having a movie night each Friday.

It’s way more than that for you, though.

“You’re the best!”, you yell in excitement, embracing him in a tight hug.

“No, you’re the best. Come on, let’s waste no time.”

He grabs your hand and pulls you with him into his dorm.

You can’t believe your eyes.

“Oh my”, you breathe out.

This is way too cute. Yu decorated his room with candles and a fairy light, windows completely darkened. His bed is turned into a blanket castle, tv directed towards it. Your heart flutters, tears start stinging in your eyes.

“You didn’t have to do that”, you hush, absolutely mesmerized by how magical the room looks.

“I wanted to do something special for you tonight, (y/n).  Since you are so special to me”, he explains briefly.

His chocolate brown eyes stare down at you with nothing but affection in them. If you could, you would melt away in an instant. What a sweet and caring boy he is. Always there for others, careful about putting a smile on the faces of those around him. You can’t help but admire him for his beautiful soul and character. God, you truly don’t deserve this amount of kindness.

“Oh Yu, I think I need to cry.”

Tenderly, you wrap your arms around him once more, take in his soft scent that sticks to his white shirt that you love on him so much.

“Come on, no need to cry. Let’s get into bed instead!”

Gently, he pushes you into the mattress and hands you a pair of chopsticks.

“As it’s my turn to choose a film, I decided on something Ghibli”, he proudly announces.

All you can do is stare at him in awe. He is so breathtakingly gorgeous that you can’t believe you sit next to him on his bed. Every Friday, your heart skips a beat when gazing upon his features. He makes it look so easy to smile in a world that seems hopeless most of the time, always optimistic.

“Are you okay, (y/n)?”

You shake your thoughts away, cheeks redden. Damn, he caught you staring. He smiles softly at you, hand gently brushing against your arm. Oh, you see stars.

“Yeah, just a little overwhelmed I guess…”, you mumble.

“No need to be overwhelmed. You deserve the world! This is a small gesture compared to how great you are!”

By the way his eyes light up you can tell that he truly believes in his own words.

“Hey (y/n), would you mind cuddling a little? I guess I just really love your hugs.”

Time stands still, you fumble for words. If you mind to cuddle, with him? Absolutely not. No, this is what your dreams are made of.

“Not at all.”

“Great!”

Gently, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and positions the blanket on top of both of you, sushi placed on his lap. You let your head sink against his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment. Oh, how much you longed for that Friday nights, how much you adore his touch. The unusual sensation of him asking for cuddles sends a shiver down your spine and makes your heart flutter in excitement.

“You know, I love it when we lay in my bed and watch movies. It’s my highlight every week”, he confesses casually between eating some sushi.

“Really?”

“Of course! Your great company and your taste in movies is exquisite.”

You let out a cute little giggle at the way he dramatically pronounces the last word of his sentence, index finger stretched out in front of his nose. Yu never failed to make you smile.

“I just hope this never ends. I really like you, Yu…”

Your confession sounds so strange coming out of your mouth, but you can’t hold it back any longer.

“Well, I really hope you do considering you are my girlfriend!”

Girlfriend!? Your eyes dart at him in shock, mouth hanging open while your mind fumbles for the right words.

Girlfriend? He never mentioned that he’s in a relationship before, especially not with you.

“I mean, you are my girlfriend, right? After all we’re spending so much time together and it’s clear that you like me and I like you”, he adds, confused by the way your expression changed.

“You know that normally, people ask each other out, right?”, you enquire, still staring at him like an idiot.

Yu simply shrugs his shoulders while gifting you with another of his breathtaking smiles.

“Why asking if I already know that we like each other? Seems pretty unnecessary to me. Or do you not want to?”

You can see the way his grin slightly drops at this possibility. No, no, no, this is absolutely not what you wanted.

“Yes, yes, yes. I absolutely want to”, you blabber out.

He lets out a laughter, arms wrapping themselves around you tightly while your heart hammers against his chest. You’ve been imagining a relationship with him for so long while he’s been living in it for what seems like weeks? You giggle into yourself, shaking your head in disbelief. Somehow, this is absolutely typically for him.

“I’m glad you’re with me in this relationship now”, he notes.

“Yeah, me too…”

Choso

“Oh my god, this is just way too exciting!”, you blabber, eyes darting around the dark hallway to soak the moment in.

“You know you’re getting kidnapped, right?”, Choso questions.

“But this is my first time getting kidnapped!”, you clarify.

Wow, this is unusual. You seem so unbothered by the fact that your life is in danger than even Choso himself is too stunned to speak.

“Are you gonna torture me too!?”

“What the hell is wrong with you, woman?”

The enjoyment that lights up your eyes, your hands not even trying to fight against the chains and how you roam around in pure pleasure. This was supposed to be a blackmail attempt in order to tease Satoru Gojo out. After all, you are one of his precious students. But it seems like it doesn’t work out like that at all.

“You aren’t human, right? Hm, let me guess…”

“I’m incarnated, dumbass.”

“Oh, that’s really interesting! Would you mind telling me more about yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Can I touch you?”

“No.”

“What a bummer…”

You sign as you look up to his tall figure.

“You’re actually quite handsome”, you comment casually.

Irritated, Choso grabs your shoulder and pushes you against a nearby wall, absolutely thrown off course by your sudden compliment.

“Aren’t you at least a little scared of me?”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“I mean, the others told me that you are a special grade and I’m a grade 2, so I’m no match. But you don’t seem like a bad guy to me at all, more like quiet and introverted”, you explain briefly.

Urgh, that spark of innocence in your doe eyes makes it hard for Choso to seem unpromising. Maybe it would have been better to send Mahito after you…

No. Something inside him resists this idea. No way in hell will Mahito get is dirty hands on you.

Choso shakes his head and lets go of your shoulders, continuing to escort you. He has a mission to finish, after all.

“May I ask why you brought me here?”

He stops in his tracks while side-eyeing your frame.

“You’re here to attract Satoru Gojo.”

Even from afar, he can’t help but admire your features. Yes, you are very easy on his eyes, the way you stare at him in nothing but admiration, as if he’s something special apart from his outstanding abilities…

What the hell has gotten into him? He is a half cursed spirit, feelings like affection have no place in his world. You are nothing more than an annoying mission to him.

“I’m sorry about what has happened to your brothers”, you suddenly blurt out.

He can’t believe his ears. Slowly, he turns around to face you, features completely twisted in anger until he looks in your eyes.

Your eyes of innocence that are filled with nothing but sadness and sincerity.

“That’s none of your business”, he spits at you.

“Oh, but it is. My people are responsible for you being miserable and you seem like a genuinely nice guy”, you remark.

How ironically, he thinks to himself. To be called nice by a jujutsu sorcerer. You two couldn’t be more different. It’s your job to exorcise curses like him, curses that threaten humanity.

“Get in there”, he instructs you.

You follow the direction of his stretched out finger without thinking twice into the small room on the end of the hallway.

“Pretty nice for a prison, wow, there’s even a bed!”, you cry out and jump on the mattress.

It’s pretty hard, you have to admit. But better than what you’d imagined being held hostage would be like.

“Are you staying here with me?”

“I have no other choice. You’re my mission and I’m in no mood for trouble.”

“Oh, that’s cool! I’d love to chit chat with you!”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at you. After talking non-sense for half an hour, you now lay passed out on bed, snoring softly. How are you even able to close an eye when your life is in danger? If he wanted to, he could kill you without blinking. He signs to himself.

He wouldn’t do that though. Not when something about you seems so mesmerizing. Is it the way your hair falls so perfectly and frames your face? Or how you carry yourself with so much confidence that not even a cursed spirit can break your optimism? Maybe your effortless beauty is the source of all evil.

It’s just…you. He allows himself to get closer, sitting next to your passed out body on the bed. You look so peaceful, as if you’re just lying in bed, waiting for another day to arrive. He wished he could be so carefree, so cheerful.

Gently, his hand caresses your cheek. Why do you have to look so damn lovely, even to him?

“Can you hold me?”, you mumble sleep drunken.

He holds his breath. Fuck, did you just catch him stroking you? No, your eyes are still closed and a few seconds after those words escaped your lips, a soft snoring is heard again. You talked in your sleep. You asked him to…cuddle you.

Carefully, he places himself besides you on this way too small bed, arm hesitantly wrapping itself around your waist. Oh, you feel so warm, your sweet perfume tingling in his nose. What a truly lovely human being you are, so different from all the other people he has met yet.  Maybe…Maybe you are indeed different. Maybe not all humans have to be killed.

“Can you scratch my head?”, your acquitted voice requests.

“Don’t get greedy”, Choso warns you, before massaging your head.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

Heaven is not fit to house a love (like you and I) | Part 1

Word Count: 5.9k

Genre: smut, angst

Summary: When you first met your boyfriend, it was love at first sight. No, more than that. It was love before you even met. It felt like you had known each other in another life and were meant to find each other again. 

But that's not actually true, is it? You and Beomgyu don't actually know each other from another life, and the dreams you've been having aren't memories of your past life either. That's ridiculous. 

But then why does Beomgyu get so defensive about them? And why does each dream feel more real than the one before? 

A/N: this is the sequel to my series YAMQN but I'm trying to write it in a way that it would be comprehensible to people who have never read YAMQN. The parts in italic are the dreams. 

Warnings: fucking on furniture, orgasm control, premature ejaculation, masturbation, PIV sex, toxic relationships.

“Stay home” Beomgyu holds you from behind, kissing your neck

“We can’t. I’ve canceled on them too many times now.” You whine. Beomgyu keeps doing this. Every time you try to hang out with your friends he pouts and whines until you stay home with him. It was cute at first–how he couldn’t get enough of you–but now your friends are actually getting pissed at the both of you. 

“But I missed you.” You can feel his pout on your skin as his lips brush over it. 

“We hang out every day. We live together!” You protest, but you’re unable to keep the chuckle from your voice.

“I know but that’s not what I mean.” He mumbles cryptically and you turn your head towards him. “Then what do you mean?” 

He flushes and buries his face in the crook of your neck so you wouldn’t see him. “Never mind. It’s stupid”

You grab his long hair, gently lifting his head up so you can lock eyes with him. “No, tell me.”

He lets out a shaky sigh. “It’s just… you ever feel like you and someone else are two halves of the same soul and you’ve spent and will spend all your lifetimes trying to reunite with them and when you finally do, you just can’t bear to let go?”

You’re rendered speechless by his impassioned, if self-conscious, speech because it captured exactly what you’ve always felt about him but was too scared to say in case you scare him off. 

You met Beomgyu while at work at the coffee shop at the local mall around christmas time last year. You spotted this adorable guy in front of your store dressed in the most ridiculous teddy bear sweater you’ve ever seen, collecting donations to buy toys for the kids at the local shelters. You fell for him at first sight and wherever he’d show up, you’d spend your entire shift stealing glances at him to the point that even your coworkers noticed. You couldn’t get over how sweet what he was doing was and you so badly wanted to go up to him and tell him that but you didn’t want to come across as a weirdo. It was only after your coworkers’ incessant nagging that you finally mustered up the courage to go up to him, hot drink in hand, offering it to him and telling him how much you admired what he was doing and how cute he his sweater was. 

The conversation flowed much more easily than you could have ever anticipated–almost like you two were meant to be–and from then on it became your daily routine to bring him a cup of coffee during your break and have a chat with him until you were yelled at by your boss for taking too long. 

And when Christmas day was fast approaching and the both of you knew he wouldn’t be there much longer, a snarky comment from your boss finally brought the two of you together and forced you to get over your trepidation. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. She likes you. He likes you. She finishes her shift at 6. Come pick her up. She likes sunflowers.” 

And that is how you and Beomgyu started dating. 

“Well now I can't go.” You lament, and he smiles radiantly, victorious. 

God your friends are gonna be so mad.

But it’s hard to think about that when his lips are attached to your neck, sucking at your most sensitive spots as he grinds his dick into your ass. 

“You look so sexy in that dress.” He murmurs wantonly, groping your tits coarsely over said dress. 

“Careful or you’re gonna blow your load on my ass.” You tease, referring to the first time you two got intimate. He was so excited then that he ended up cumming just from a little grinding. He’s lucky he’s so cute and that you found his enthusiasm endearing because if any other guy had cum so prematurely like that, you would’ve probably kicked his ass out the door. But also he ended up eating you out for the rest of the night until your legs turned into jelly to make it up to you, so it wasn’t too bad. 

Beomgyu pulls your dress down over your tits so he can play with them directly as he sucks on the skin of your neck, and you can feel your arousal begin to build up between your legs. 

"Beomgyu…" 

"My sensitive baby." He chuckles, index fingers flicking your nipples. You squeeze your thighs together in need and push your ass back against his cock pointedly. "Fuck me, Beomgyu."

It doesn’t take much prompting to get Beomgyu to give in. He has always been needy for you and today was no different. He pushes you against the table, flipping the skirt of your dress up and pulling your underwear out of the way before he pushes himself inside you, filling you up so perfectly as if he was made for you. 

“Oh, Beomgyu…” You gasp, clawing at the wooden surface of the table. This is hardly new to you. Beomgyu has fucked you on every surface of this house, many times. He's insatiable. He just can't get enough of you, and neither you him. 

“Baby, I don’t think I will last long.” He grunts into your ear and you chuckle breathlessly. “Of course not. You never could resist my pussy, huh?”

“No.” He shakes his head, driving his cock into you harshly. 

“Then cum. Show me how much you need me.” 

“Fuck, I do. I do, baby.” He groans, pressing his hips flush against your ass as he empties his seed inside of you. 

“Well, that was quick.” You giggle when he catches his breath and he whines, flipping you over on your back and pulling your thighs up against your body. You know what’s coming next. Beomgyu can never leave you unsatisfied and when he finishes too early like this he usually makes it up to you by giving you the best oral of your life. 

But when he sees his cum dripping out of your swollen pussy, he stops and stares, almost hypnotized by the sight, and a far away look takes over his face. 

"What?" You ask, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Nothing."

“Do you like seeing me dripping with your seed? Are you thinking of knocking me up?” You tease, and his head snaps up to look at you at a neck-breaking speed, a horrified look on his face. 

Fuck, did you read the situation wrong? Why did you say that? You don’t know why you said that!

Actually you do. You had another one of your dreams today–the ones where Beomgyu is a prince and you’re a lady at court and you’re in love. Beomgyu doesn’t like hearing about them much. He calls them silly and always brushes them off, not wanting to hear about them. But his lack of enthusiasm doesn’t stop you from having them, and each one feels more real than the other, as if it had actually happened. As if you were recalling memories of a previous life. And the latest dream was no different. 

"Our children are not going to want for anything.” Dream Beomgyu says, hand splayed protectively over your tummy. 

“What?” Real-life Beomgyu sputters, and you explain yourself shyly, sitting up and covering yourself as you chuckle nervously. “I just… I had a dream that I was pregnant with your baby. You know, when you were a prince…” 

But Beomgyu doesn’t share your laughter. His face immediately hardens and his reaction this time surpasses mere distaste and veers into anger.. “I was never a prince. None of your dreams ever happened. They’re just meaningless dreams. Don’t be stupid.” 

"Stupid?" You draw back at the sudden outburst. 

"Yes. The whole prince thing is stupid. You need to get out of your head and come back to reality. The whimsical, superstitious act is not cute anymore." He snaps, far too much vitriol in his voice for such a silly topic.

"Why are you being such an ass? Would it hurt you to just listen and laugh with me? Or is the idea of us having a baby together so appalling to you?" You don’t know why you’re going so hard to defend your dreams or why he feels the need to tear them down, but you can’t ignore the sudden shift after he heard you mention the possibility of having a child together, and his answering laugh cuts you deep.

"You don't know anything." Beomgyu says, getting cryptic like he always gets whenever you talk about your dreams. Usually you’d let it go, but not this time. Not when he was so disgusted with the idea of having a child with you.  

"Don't know what?" You ask, frustrated. “That you find the thought of having a child with me so appalling?”

"I don't want to talk about this right now."

Of course, he never wants to talk about it. He always runs away whenever the topic of discussion gets too serious for his liking. For a guy who is so self-proclaimed obsessed with you, he sure does work hard to avoid these meaningful talks. Well, if he wants to avoid it so bad then you’ll make it easy for him. 

"Fine." You hop off the table and go to the bathroom to clean yourself up and change your underwear before going back out, intending to leave the apartment to get some fresh air and most importantly, to get away from Beomgyu. 

But Beomgyu has other ideas, following you at every step like a second shadow, and when he sees you going for the door, he steps in between you and it. "Where are you going?"

"Out."

"I'm coming with you." He states decidedly and you can’t keep the snort out of your mouth. He always does this. He always makes decisions for you. Well, not this time. "No. I need space." 

But he shakes his head firmly. "You're angry. I don't want to let you go angry."

Beomgyu always hated parting from you on bad terms. He always needed to make sure everything was okay before he let you out of his sight. It was sweet at first. You might’ve even considered it healthy at some point, but right now it’s driving you up the wall. Arguments can't always be resolved on the spot, especially when one party refuses to even talk, and so forcing you to be together just ends up with you lashing out because you can't blow off steam. 

But Beomgyu doesn’t care. He just doesn't want you out of his sight. 

"Beomgyu, for fuck's sake, get out of my way. I don’t want to be around you right now." 

"You know I can't let you go angry." He reiterates as if that is a necessity you had to cave to. 

"You're going to have to learn to. If you won’t talk to me then you have to at least give me some space.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to.” You shout, angry and fed up with him. “I don't know what the fuck happened to you in the past to traumatize you like this, because god knows you refuse to tell me, but I can’t coddle you about it anymore. I need to take a breather and I don’t care if you–”

"I lost a baby before." He utters softly but it was deafening to you. 

"What?" 

“Me and my ex, we had a baby on the way but I lost both of them. That’s why the idea of having a baby freaks me out so much. I can’t handle losing another one. I can’t handle losing you.… it’s just–it’s–” He starts tearing and stuttering his words, looking distraught as he attempts to explain himself to you, and you feel absolutely wretched for doubting him. You’re such a fucking bitch for forcing him to reveal this to you, but you’re also selfishly glad he did. Even this tiny sliver of his past is much needed context to explain the man you love so dearly. 

“I—I don’t know what to say.” You pathetically utter after an exorbitant amount of time, never having expected such a revelation. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You take him into your arms and he sobs against you, holding onto you tightly. "I want to have a child with you. Nothing would make me happier. You have no idea. But I'm just too scared." 

“It’s okay, baby. I don’t want to have a child right now. We can talk about it again in the future. We’ll work it out together, okay?” You pull back slightly–not stepping out of his tight embrace, not that he would’ve let you–and take his face into your hands, wiping his tears off. 

He nods pitifully. “Okay.” 

You should’ve left it at that. He’s in a bad state. You should be comforting him right now, but you’re selfish and this might be the only time he’ll open up to you, and now you have to know. 

"Did… did you love her?" 

"With all my heart." He doesn’t hesitate in answering and you feel a pang of jealousy towards his deceased lover. How fucked up, is that? "More than me?"

He is quiet for a while and every second that passes in silence tears your heart apart. 

"There is no one I love more than you." He finally says and you let out a sigh of relief that was entirely too obvious. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I’m being such a bitch. I’m jealous of a dead girl, how crazy is that?” You ramble nervously, but Beomgyu stops you with a kiss. 

“That’s okay, baby. I know you don’t mean it like that.” He reassures you and you sigh in relief once more. He never judges you for the messed up thoughts you sometimes get. He always understands and emphasizes and that’s part of the reason why you love him so much. 

Still you keep the rest of your questions about her to yourself. It must be a sore subject for him given how he was so protective of it before. The only thing you need to know right now is that you’re the love of his life, not her, not anyone else. You.

____________________

“He’s not trying to keep me away from you. He’s just really clingy. No, he’s not manipulating me–” Your heated defense of your boyfriend is cut off when you spot said boyfriend standing in the doorway of the kitchen where you had been taking your friend’s call so he wouldn’t overhear it. Well, so much for that.

“Oh shit, I'll call you back.” You mutter to your friend and end the call, cutting off the protests on the other line. 

“Was that Yunjin?” He asks and you nod guiltily. Yunjin doesn’t like Beomgyu. She made that very clear to the point that despite you not telling him, he knows it well. 

“She’s just being Yunjin. Don’t mind her.” You try to smooth things over but he shakes his head. “No, it’s my fault. I’m not helping things by keeping you all to myself. It’s just because I love being with you so much, you know that right?”

“I know, baby.” You walk towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love spending time with you too–hey, here’s an idea. Why don’t you come along? It would be killing two birds with one stone, hanging out with my friends while still being with you. And it’s been so long since they’ve last seen you. I’m sure once they get a look at your cute face, they’d forget all their reservations.” 

You laugh, but Beomgyu looks nervous. “I don’t know. They don’t really like me anymore.” 

“Because they don’t see much of you and you’re taking over all my attention. If they see more of you, they’d fall in love with you all over again.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure. You’re irresistible, puppy.” 

_________________________________________

And just like you said, things go well. After your friends get over the initial annoyance that you brought Beomgyu along, they start warming up to him once the conversation starts flowing and Beomgyu’s radiant personality shines through. You’ve even caught Yunjin crack a smile or two at his antics. 

But all your high hopes come crashing down when another person joins your party. The stranger’s name is Taehyun, and he’s apparently the new roommate of one of your friends, which is fine enough, he seems like a nice guy and you’ve always welcomed new additions to your group. 

Beomgyu on the other hand, must feel differently, because as soon as Taehyun joins you, his whole demeanor shifts and he becomes closed off and snappy, getting mean with his comments that were all seemingly directed at the newcomer. It was starting to ruin the mood, making your friends mad again, and so when he makes yet another snarky remark to something Taehyun innocuously said, you have to pull him aside and ask him what his problem is. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Beomgyu? My friends were just starting to warm up to you again. Why are you being such a dick?” 

“I want to go home. I don’t feel very good.” He lies, and you know it’s a lie because he doesn’t sell it very well, glaring daggers at the table where your friends are seated.

“Then go home.” You snap, having little remaining patience for his behavior. 

He gives you a look of betrayal. “You know I can’t leave without you.” 

“You’re going to have to if you can’t act like a fucking adult. The reason I invited you is because I wanted to help smooth things over between you and my friends. I wanted to prove to them that you’re not the manipulative asshole they think you are, but honestly the way you’re acting right now, makes me wonder if maybe they are right and–”

“No they’re not.” He cuts you off, lips tightly pressed together. “Fine, we'll stay.” 

“Beomgyu…” You eye him with doubt but he insists. “I’m fine. Let's go.” 

He drags you back to the table and you stop your protests so your friends can’t hear it. 

Beomgyu is quiet for a while, which doesn’t make for pleasant company, but at least he’s not being an asshole. Well, not for a bit anyway. Because once Taehyun mentions he’s looking for a job and you tell him that your place of work is hiring, Beomgyu starts acting up again.  

“I’m sure he doesn’t want to work as a barista, honey.” Beomgyu speaks over you, but Taehyun rebuts him. “I do. The hours sound good for a student like me and the work doesn’t sound too hard. It’s perfect.”

Once again, Beomgyu speaks instead of you. “But you seem like an intelligent guy. Surely serving coffee to other people would be embarrassing for you.”

“What the hell, Beomgyu?” You hiss, mortified at his implication, and in front of all your friends too. Is that what he really thinks? Does he think your job is embarrassing?

“I just mean that he could be doing something else.” 

“And what does that make me? A loser who isn’t good for anything except serving people coffee, a job you apparently think is humiliating for someone intelligent to have?” 

“You’re overthinking it, baby. I didn’t mean–”

“Oh, I didn’t think my dumb brain was capable of overthinking.” You laugh tearfully, and stand up before your friends could see you cry. “Excuse me.” 

You storm out of the restaurant and Beomgyu follows after you. 

“Baby!” 

You whip around and scream at him. “If you think what I do is so demeaning then why are you even with me?”

“I don’t think that.” He denies vehemently, “I just didn’t want him to work with you. I got bad vibes from that dude.” 

"Not this again.” You groan. Of course this is why he was behaving in such a bizarre and rude manner. Beomgyu is a jealous guy. You tried reassuring him a million times that he’s the only guy for you but to no avail. He gets paranoid and thinks every guy you interact with will steal you away from him, and here he is doing it again. “Are you seriously fucking jealous of a guy I don’t even know?"

“I am not jealous.” He tries to deny, badly. “I told you I got bad vibes from him.”

“Bad vibes?” You laugh hysterically. “If bad vibes are all it takes then I would’ve broken up with you long ago because all my friends got bad vibes from you.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Your friends hate me. They’ll say anything to tear us apart. I bet they even invited that guy just to piss me off.” 

"Oh my god, are you listening to yourself? You’re so–ugh, just please leave me alone, Beomgyu." You try to walk away from him but he quickly reaches out and grabs you by the arm, turning you around to face him, freaked out. "No, please stay."

"Let me go, Beomgyu." You demand, your anger bubbling to dangerous level but Beomgyu stand firm. “No. You can’t leave me.”

“Let me go.” 

“No.” 

“I’m serious, Beomgyu. Leave me the fuck alone.” 

“No.”

You can’t help it. He’s driving you insane, and you can’t hold back anymore. You slap him. 

But you immediately regret it when you see the red mark beginning to bloom across his cheek. 

"Oh god, I'm so sorry. You just drive me–" He kisses you passionately, holding onto you even tighter. 

"Do anything you want to me, I don’t mind. Just don't leave me." He breathes against your lips, eyes looking crazed in their desperation. 

God, this is sick. You shouldn’t entertain this kind of twisted trade-off. You should push him away and demand he leave you be. You shouldn’t take him up on his offer to let you unload your frustrations physically onto him. Maybe you should even end it…

But you can’t. You’re as invested in this as he is. You don’t want to break up with him. You don’t want to leave him. You just want to punish him for the crazy way he’s behaving. You want to feel like you’re not letting him get away with this without actually having to break up with him .

And so you accept his sick offer.

_______________________________

"You're so pathetic, Beomgyu." 

He shudders at your words, and you don’t know if he likes it or hates it. All you know is he tries to reach out to you but his hands are held back by the bindings you’ve fashioned out of your scarves. 

He cries out for you but you have no mercy for him. This is the punishment he chose for himself and you’ll be damned if you don’t make the most of it. 

“You’ve really pissed me off this time, Beomgyu. Acted so crazy just so I wouldn’t leave you. Well, now you get to sit back and watch me fuck myself and you can do nothing about it.” You taunt him as you ride the dildo you have strapped around his abdomen, his own cock brushing up against your ass every time you move, getting enough stimulation to keep him hard but not nearly enough to get him off. 

"Please, sit on my cock. It feels better than that plastic toy. I'm all hard and ready for you. Ride me, please. Cum on my dick. Use me instead of that toy." He babbles, but you don’t listen. 

You want to make him suffer, and you’re scared to dwell too long on where that emotion comes from. You love your boyfriend. You’ve never wanted to hurt him before, but he really pushed you too far this time. 

"You did this. You’re making me do this to you. You’re being a terrible boyfriend." 

"No, don’t say that.” He shakes his head vehemently, getting teary. “I'm sorry. I’ll do anything to make it better. Whatever you want." 

"Will you let him work with me?" You hazard to ask and his face immediately transforms. "No." 

You scoff–so much for being apologetic–and ride the dildo faster, moaning out loud just to piss him off. You see him struggling and feel him trying to buck his hips against you but he can’t accomplish much more than his cock just grazing your ass. 

Still, you can feel the wetness from the precum touching your skin. “You’re fucking ridiculous.” 

“You just don’t know what you are to me.” He counters, leaving you speechless. One thing about Beomgyu is that he will never fail to tell you just how much you mean to him. It’s why you’ve always been so weak when it comes to him. 

But that doesn’t mean you can’t punish him for his behavior. “Clearly not much if you don’t even trust me to work with him.” 

“You don’t know.” He insists, but doesn’t deny your claim which pisses you off even more. 

“Don’t know what? That you think I’ll cheat on you if given the slightest chance? Is that something she did to you? Is that why you’re so fucked up?”

His silence is all you need to know, and you don’t know if you should feel bad for him that the woman he loved so much cheated on him, or angry that he assumes you would do the same just because she did. 

“Fuck you, Beomgyu.” The two emotions mix together and fuel you further, and you put your hand between your legs to touch yourself, getting yourself off if only just to spite him, knowing how much he needs to always be the cause of your pleasure. 

“Baby, please.” He begs, seeing you inch closer to your end, and it’s killing him that he’s not the reason for it. Little does he know that his desperation and blinding need for you is the greatest contributor to your impending fall over the edge. 

But you don’t let him know that, jumping erratically on the dildo and attacking your poor clit with your fingers, sending yourself off on the most emotionally exhausting orgasm of your life. 

“Baby…” You can hear him whimper pitifully in the background, his shape blurry in front of you as you fight off your own tears. “Baby…”

“What is it?” You hiss after your orgasm passes, anger finally overpowering the lust. “Do you want to cum? Is that what you’re concerned about? Your dick?”

“That’s not it.” He tries to deny it but you’re already untying him. And despite his denial, as soon as his hands are free, he tries to reach out to grab you but you take his hands and forcefully pull them off your body. He tries to fight you but you hiss sharply at him, "Stay." 

He whimpers but listens, and when he looks like he won’t go back on his words, you let go of his hands. "Touch yourself."

"I want you to touch me." He whines and you slap his thigh. "You don't get to make demands. Not after the way you behaved in front of my friends. You embarrassed me!"

"I'm sorry." He mewls, one hand going to his dick and the other playing with his nipples, putting on a show for you, needing to gain your favor once again. Which is precisely why you lean over him to grab your phone from the night stand and unlock it, pretending to be scrolling through it as he jerks off. 

“Baby!” He protests heatedly, reaching out to touch you. Beomgyu fucking hates it when you don’t give him any attention. He withers without it.  

“Did I say you could touch me?” You seethe, not bothering to take his hands off this time, opting instead to intimidate him into it, and thankfully he retracts his hands at your tone as if it had burned him. 

“Keep jerking off.” You instruct, and as soon as he does, you go back to looking at your phone. 

"Look at me." He whines, but doesn’t stop this time. You can hear the wet sounds of his hand moving over his cock and see the movement out of the corner of your eyes.

“Please.” 

You ignore him. 

“Just look at me.” 

You keep looking at your phone. 

"Princess…."

You snap your head up, narrowing your eyes at him. He never called you that. In fact, he almost makes it a point not to call you that so he wouldn’t “feed into your prince delusion”. So for him to say that right now was really low. Not that Beomgyu cared, as long as he had your attention. 

"Yeah, yeah, that's it." He moans, thrusting into his fist.

Maybe it's sick. Maybe you're enabling his behavior but god, was it so sexy to have him so completely obsessed with you that just your gaze is enough to get him off. 

“Is this what you want, Beomgyu? For me to look at you and see how you’re such a pathetic slut that you can’t even get off without me giving you my attention?” 

Beomgyu doesn’t even try to deny it, nodding enthusiastically. “Yes. Never want you to look away from me. I missed you so much.” He hiccups, thrusting up into his tight fist. 

Here he goes again, talking about how much he misses you. You’re sure if you spend every single second of your life with him he’d still complain about missing you. You can’t call him out too much on it though–not when you feel the same, not when you thrive on it. 

“Can I cum?” Beomgyu asks breathlessly and you sneer down at him. “No.” 

He lets out a heart-broken moan, hand clenching at your thigh. “No. Please. Need to cum.”

"You don't deserve it. Stop." You say cooly, and he wails. "Please. I need to cum. I can’t–I can’t.”

His voice gets high and breathy, strung out, but you don’t care. No, you relish in it, knowing what you’ll make him do next. "Stop."

He cries out, shaking his head violently, not stopping. "No. No. I need it."

You can see how close he is. You can see his cock flushing red, his balls tightening and his precum pouring out of his head. You have to put a stop to it, physically removing his hands yourself, but as soon as you touch him he loses it, staining your belly with his cum. 

"Ah--ah--oh god–please touch me–please." He bucks his hips in the air, unable to reach you, and cries, tears pouring down his face. "I love you. I love you. Please use me. Please don't leave me.” 

You've never been this rough with Beomgyu and for a second you wonder if you're going too far, but he looks so fucked out by the way you’re being mean to him that you can’t back down now.

Still he is your sweetheart. He’ll always be your sweetheart and you can’t bear to see him in such distress, even if he brought it onto himself with his jealous and obsessive ways.

"Hush, Beomgyu." You murmur, grabbing his dick and jerking him off. He gasps from the overstimulation, his hooded eyes blowing wide as he grabs onto the sheets, but he doesn’t stop you, thrusting his hips up into your grip instead. 

"Ah–oh fuck–AHH–" 

"Cum for me, Beomgyu." Your hand blurs over his cock, wet slapping sounds filling the room as your fist collides with his balls on each downstroke. 

"Yes–princess–all for you." If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve found the sound of him calling you ‘princess’ the most natural thing in the world. As if he had always done it. As if he truly believes it. 

But it’s all just to get you to give him what he wants, and sadly, it works. You’re as weak for him as he is for you. It’s unhealthy–is what your friends have told you after his charms have worn off in their eyes, but you fear it would never wear off for you. You’re absolutely, sickeningly in love with him and that’s why you’ll always make excuses to let him do the crazy things he does to you and for you. 

And the things you do to him. 

Beomgyu looks spent after his orgasm and he tries to pull you down in his arms to cuddle, but you stop him. 

"Wait a second." You say, grabbing a few tissues and wiping yourselves off. 

His hold on you remains so tight you feel his heart beat furiously against your chest. "I'm sorry for what I’ve said. I just don't want you to work with him."

You look up at him, mind a little clearer now that you’re all wrapped up in his warmth, feeling safe in his embrace. 

"I will work with him. You need to get over your jealousy. I've had enough." You inform him simply. Yes, you’ve done nothing but entertain his delusions so far, but it’s high time for you to starting actually doing something about it. You know you’ll only be ruining yourself later if you don’t. Who knows what he’ll demand next if you let this go. For you to not talk to other men? To stop seeing your friends who are trying to tear you apart? To quit your job so you’d always be around him? No, you have to put your foot down now. 

Beomgyu looks so pissed off at what you’ve said, but he doesn’t say anything. He just holds you tightly, burying his face in your neck and gripping onto you so hard, you’re sure his fingers will leave marks. That’s fine. You’ll just wear something to cover the bruises. Just as long as you make this work. 

________________________________________

That night, you have another dream about prince Beomgyu, but this time a new character makes an appearance, and that is Lord Taehyun. 

"What are you doing here?" Dream Beomgyu bursts into your room, finding you and Taehyun together. 

"I came to visit the lady." Taehyun’s demeanor appears relaxed but you can see the tension around the edges of his mouth.

"Beomgyu, relax–" You try to calm him down, and he turns on you. "How long has he been here? Did he do anything to you?" 

“No, we just talked!” You snap, trying to yank your hand back from him but his grip is bruisingly-tight.“How did he get in?” 

“That’s none of your business.” You refuse to tell him but that just sets him off.

“You are my business.” He shouts, making Taehyun get up, “Let her go. You’re hurting her.” 

“Fuck you.” Beomgyu was becoming aggressive, and Taehyun looked quite on edge himself. You knew you had to be the one to de-escalate this situation before it exploded so you step closer to Beomgyu and hiss in his ear. “Get a grip, Beomgyu.” You hiss lowly at him then turn to Taehyun with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Taehyun. I need to talk to Beomgyu privately.” 

The dream ends there, and when you wake up in the morning, you make no mention of it to Beomgyu.

_____________________

A/N: Well its' finally here folks. Don't know how many chapter this will be but I hope you like it anyway.