#now i need to find a bit of time and make this happen

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: A bout of insomnia keeps you awake, so you decide to go for a midnight walk. To your surprise you find that you aren't the only one still up as the sound of the shower running in the communal bathroom catches your attention. Who is it and what are they doing in there? Why does it sound like your lieutenant and why is he moaning your name?

Word Count: 5.6 k

Warnings:

Hot water from the shower runs in snaking pathways over the bulky muscles of the lieutenant’s back as he leans himself against the wall, his forehead resting on the bit of his forearm that is propping his body up while his engorged cock is tightly locked in his clenched fist. Furiously he strokes the length with eyes closed and mouth agape, grunting deep and guttural the tighter he squeezes around that throbbing appendage as he desperately works to ease the ache that has kept him from getting sleep yet another night in a row. 

The military base is hunkered down for the evening, most of the personnel fast asleep as he should have already been, but his mind is too full of thoughts…thoughts if you… that sleep is unattainable at this point unless he does something about them. He knows the risk he’s taking doing this in a communal space, but he hopes that it’s late enough that no one will be around to disturb him until he’s done.

It’s been another long, rough day of having to watch you from afar but not touch, follow you with his dark, hungry eyes while knowing he will never get a chance to taste your sweetness, and he needs a release before he does something foolish. Never has another gotten under his skin the way you have, never has he struggled so hard to keep his desire from consuming him whole like he has to every single time you are near, and lately it is becoming near impossible. 

There's only so much that even a trained professional can take before all that self-discipline goes right out the window and he is reaching his limit with each passing week. If this keeps up he is bound to slip up somehow, you will notice, and he cannot let that happen. He can’t do another desperate sleepless night and be sane enough to face you again the next day, so here he finds himself. 

Behind closed eyes he recalls the images from earlier during training of you sparring with one of the other recruits. The way your body moved and contorted as you took down your opponent, the sweat that glistened and rolled in large drops down your chest and into the top of your shirt, the look of cocky determination in your eyes, and the heavy breaths you took through parted lips was enough to set him off something bad. His hands had to be firmly crossed over his crotch even after you had finished and walked off to hide the stiffy he was suddenly sporting so it wouldn't draw attention from any wandering eyes. 

God, the way he wishes it had been him that was pinned beneath you on that mat instead of the recruit that you took down and makes him stroke even more furiously. Why can't it be your sweet, soft pussy he is thrusting into instead of his rough palm? He’d sell his soul to Satan himself just for a moment spent in your bliss.

Lt. Riley braces his feet wider in the shower to steady himself as a wave of pleasure surges through his limbs and nearly knocks him over as he continues stroking. There is so much sloppiness in his rhythm now; he’s getting closer and soon he’ll be able to think more clearly… at least for a little while. 

“The things I'd do to ya, sweetheart,” he mutters to the vision of you in his mind’s eye, the need overwhelming every sense until he can’t see straight. “Fuck, I just want tha chance ta make ya come. I’d make bloody sure ya would only ‘ave eyes for me from then on.”

His teeth clench behind his parted lips as a bit of salty precum dribbles out of the tip of his cock only to quickly get washed away by the water raining down over him. Fucking hell, this is a problem that doesn’t seem to have an end in sight; this isn’t the first time he’s had to jack off to get a moment of peace and he knows that this will only be a temporary fix. There’s only one thing that can satisfy him for good, but it is the one thing he isn’t allowed to have.

At least he tells himself over and over that you’d never give him the time of day and so he keeps his agonizing distance. So, as the rest of the world around him slumbers, he has to do what he must to get by…and even though he thinks himself the only one awake and trying to work out demons under the cover of night, he couldn’t be more wrong.

At the other side of the barracks, you stare up at the dark ceiling of your room just as you’ve done for the past hour now. You have tried to relax your limbs, clear your mind, close your eyes, but no matter how hard you push yourself, sleep keeps evading your grasp. Why? You know the answer plainly even if you don’t really want to accept it. 

His eyes had been on you again today, Lt. Riley’s. That intense dark brown gaze that always makes your pulse race each time you catch it lingering had been plastered on you even before you stepped up to your sparring partner during training earlier. It was as if he was trying to bore a hole through your body the way he wouldn’t look away. The ache that settled itself in your core at his undivided attention nearly distracted you enough that you about lost the fight and now that you are lying in the dark with nothing to keep you occupied it’s all your desperate mind can focus on.

Does the lieutenant even know what his attention does to you? Would he care even if he did?

What would he think if he knew that just his gaze alone makes your body burn, how you can’t ever seem to get enough of the way you can so easily capture his focus, how it fuels all of your fantasies and daydreams until it’s impossible to be in his presence without your breath quickening and feeling that familiar ache between your legs? Goddammit, if you had your way you would have those eyes glued to yours as he thrusts inside and makes you his for the first time, but you know that’s not a possibility.  

No, it’s got to be pure coincidence, something entirely innocuous, a superior surveying the progress of one of his soldiers. He is the unofficial second in command around here, of course he would need to take account of those that are under him. You’d have to be a fool to think it’s anything more than that, that someone as experienced and weathered as him would ever go for an underling like you, but it doesn’t change how it makes you desperately want to get closer to the serious and intimidating officer.  

Why does the one thing you want have to be so fucking far out of reach?

Your heartbeat is starting to race again and your fingers are too sore to go another round down below, so you give up with a sigh of defeat and get up out of bed; if sleep isn't coming then there's no point in lying here to only get more frustrated that you can’t let those salacious fantasies go. 

Maybe a walk will tucker you out enough that sleep will stop avoiding you, at least it’s worth a try. Better than lying in the dark trying to stroke out the overwhelming thoughts, trying to imagine the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress as his cock stretches you out. No, staying here is only going to do more damage. Slipping on some shorts with your tank top and grabbing your shoes, you head out of your room and begin your trek through the barracks headed towards the outside. 

You pass by the quiet rooms of your sleeping teammates, nothing but silence filling the halls that causes each soft step you take to sound louder than it should. Room after room passes by the same as the last as you make your way through the long stretches of hallway. All that's left is the showers coming up on your left, then the doors to the outside and you’ll be free to mosey about in the cool air while the music of the night gives you something else to focus on. 

But it isn’t the crickets, frogs, and other nocturnal animals outside that you hear now, nor is it those of the nightwatch making their rounds. It’s something else that grabs your attention.

The closer you get to the communal bathrooms, the more your ears pick up noise out of the stillness. At first it is only the distinct sound of running water hitting off the titles that cover the floors, but soon you catch the muted echo of a voice reverberating inside. Whoever is in there it sounds like they are in distress and curiosity gets the better of you. It's probably nothing, but it's best to check just to be sure. You'll pop your head in, make certain everything is alright, and then quietly leave without anyone knowing. 

Silently you creep up to the door and slowly creak it open so that the hinges won’t squeak and give you away just in case your worries turn out to be unfounded. The ambiguous noises become more clear and you realize it is the heavy masculine grunting of someone in the shower. It takes you a second to place why that sound is so familiar, but after a few seconds it finally clicks and you become embarrassed to have stumbled upon this private, intimate moment.

You move back from the door and almost let it fall closed when you catch the person inside saying something unexpected. Under the sound of the shower head running and heavy panting you swear that you hear the voice moan your name and instantly you are frozen in your tracks, unable to leave as planned.

You know that particular voice. 

Shit, you've heard it so many times over the course of your stay here that it is permanently burned into your psyche. The voice repeats the same and now you are sure that it is your name being moaned and a shiver runs up your spine. There is no mistaking it now that you detect that recognizable thick British accent. 

It's your lieutenant, that masked enigma himself, Simon Riley.

Instantly your cheeks feel like they are on fire as he repeats it again this time in more of a whimper. Is he really…? This has to be your overstimulated mind playing tricks on you. And yet there it is again, his deep voice grunting your name with more urgency as if he is intoxicated by the way that it rolls off his tongue and suddenly your head is spinning so that you aren’t immediately aware of what you’re doing.

Stop, you hear your inner thoughts swirl around the chaos inside your skull. What the hell are you thinking? Why are you going inside?

Even as you internally ask the questions, you can’t stop your feet that seem to have a mind of their own now and force you further inside the empty bathroom and over to the source of all those delicious sounds. The countless restless nights, the endless cravings for his presence that leave you desperate, the infinite amount of times you’ve touched yourself to the thought of him…your body needs this and it isn’t going to let you walk away until you see for yourself if this is real. 

If there is a chance…

The grunts come faster now as the lieutenant is about to blow when something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. There is a shadow on the other side of the curtain that hadn’t been there before, a dark mass of a figure standing stock still just outside the thin plastic veil hiding him from the rest of the room. His blood runs cold, anger taking hold as he is forced to stop and confront whoever it is that has decided to disturb him with their presence. 

Who the fuck could be up at this time at night anyway and why now when he was nearly finished? He pulls back the curtain in one swift, irritated motion just enough to poke his head out and confront the bastard, but to his surprise who should be standing there then the one person he doesn’t need to come face to face with in this intimate moment. You stare back at him with wide eyes brightly shimmering in the fluorescent lighting overhead. 

“The fuck ya think you’re doin’?” he barks harshly, flustered by the awkward position you've found him in. “Do ya know what fuckin’ time it is? Ya should be down for tha night instead a skulkin’ about. I suggest ya get out and head back where you're supposed ta be.”

You hear the jarring response: should move, leave, follow his order, but you can't. The sight of the water glinting off his husky chest, beads of condensation sparkling through the light brown hair covering his sternum and down his abdomen, is too delicious a sight for you to pull your eyes from. You always knew that the lieutenant was a mass of muscle, it’s clear even through his bulky tactical gear, but to see it all in the flesh is another story. How are you meant to walk away from all that tantalizing, slick, heated skin?

Without even thinking, you step in closer. “I …don’t want to go.” 

“What?” The question comes out as a surprise.

You swallow. “I said I don’t want to go,” you reiterate.

You wrestle with yourself on what to do now that you’ve gotten here as he stares back at you in confusion, sensing how the air has suddenly seemed to shift all at once. Do you reveal the truth and tell him everything, including that you heard his desperate pleas? Will that be enough? Or do you do something else entirely? What if he rejects any advances just to save face? 

“What're ya…?” he starts to ask, only to lose the end of his sentence as you move in until the thin plastic curtain is the only thing keeping you apart. 

Screw it, you’ve come this far and that throbbing ache between your legs is ruling your actions now. This is a terrible idea, but that is the only type available at this time of night. Your heartbeat is in your ears as your gaze locks to his and your fingertips grab at the hem of your tank top to slowly drag it up over your torso and pull it off the top of your head. The skimpy bit of fabric hangs idly from your hand almost sweeping the floor as you stand there bare chested staring back at him. 

If this doesn’t make your intentions clear, then nothing will, and hopefully the temptation is enough to sway his actions.

Simon tries to inhale, but the wind has been knocked from his lungs and he can’t seem to get it back. Composure is his calling card and yet right now being in control isn’t an option anymore, not with the way you look like the most perfect treat he’s ever laid eyes on. He releases a shuddered breath that he didn’t know he was holding onto. There is a heat in his chest and it’s spreading through his limbs like a wildfire, ready to consume all the common sense he has left. Watching that hardened man break gives you new found confidence and you find your voice amidst the dibilitating rise in your blood pressure.

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” you manage to say without faltering. “Not after what I just heard.”

Fuck, he really has been found out.

“Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you can’t take your eyes off of me, sir?” you continue, the truth spilling out like the water from the shower. “You might think yourself slick because of the mask, but I swear whenever we’re near each other I can feel your gaze lingering on me. It’s not the same one you give the others, this one is different… and do you know the worst part?”

You let the question hang in the air for a moment even though Lt. Riley doesn’t even try to answer it; he can’t, he’s too overwhelmed. “The worst part is that I can’t get enough of it.”

The lieutenant’s vision is tunneled in on your sweet lips as he listens to your words, the desire to grab you and drag you to him spreading throughout his limbs at your confession. A few stray droplets of water drip down from the cropped tips of his dirty blond hair and hit the top of your shoes as he struggles to speak.

“This is a bad idea, luv,” he says as his final attempt to give you an out. “Ya should go ‘fore ya do somethin’ ya regret.”

You shake your head. “The only thing I’m going to regret is leaving. I can’t take another sleepless night. And it sounds like you can’t either.”

As you speak, you quietly slip your feet out of your shoes and toss your shirt haphazardly away and it crumples to a heap on the ground. “I need you… so bad. I can’t take it anymore. Please, don’t send me away.”

That’s it, all sense is completely gone as Simon Riley is no longer in control of his actions, not after hearing you plead for him to take you. Ripping open the curtain all the way, he silently pulls you into the shower and shoves you back into the tiled wall. Your big doe eyes peer up at him as the water mists from the showerhead above you and trickles off your eyelashes. 

He watches the droplets collect and sparkle like diamonds as they fall onto your delicate cheek, his bare chest heaving up and down laboriously with each panted breath as he takes in all he can now that he has the chance. His large hands glide over your arms as he truly contemplates the consequences of his actions, but there is no reprimand, no amount of punishment in this moment that can make him fight off the brunt of his attraction.

You stand in his presence only able to look on, mesmerized by finally being able to take in the enigma you’ve only rarely ever seen in bits and pieces and never this up close. Goddammit he’s handsome. All those stark, chiseled features, the light covering of brown stubble along his jaw, those brilliant eyes that are even more gorgeous now that they aren’t shadowed in his mask steal your breath away. Old, faded scars are speckled across his visage and trail down the length of his body, but even those take nothing away from his looks. 

Husky, bulked out muscles from years of hard physical labor, outline and glistening with water meet your gaze the further your eyes travel. The sheer girth of his body is enough to make your mouth salivate as you wait in anticipation for it to be molded into you, dwarfing yours in comparison. 

“Wanted this for so fuckin’ long, luv,” he breathes as his sight drifts down to the beautiful pair of naked breasts nearly pressing into his chest, bringing you back from your supor as you admire. “I need to hear ya say it, that I can ‘ave my way with ya.”

Anything, you’ll say anything to break that short, agonizing distance between you. “Fuck me,” you say, lips left parted as you wait for him to take the lead and break the tension.  

There is a ringing in his ears as if the entire world has suddenly fallen silent as the brunt of his suppressed desire floods immediately to the surface, overwhelming everything in a blink. Without a word he urgently cups both of his palms around either side of your head just behind your ears, thumbs resting along your jaw so that he can draw your face to him as he leans down into your face. He has to kiss you now; the need is suddenly so strong it’s like he is choking on it. You barely have a second to take a breath before he crashes his lips on your own.

He captures those soft bits of skin over and over again in desperately feverish waves, stealing the balmy air from your mouth to sustain the connection so that he doesn’t have to break it just yet. The last thing he wants to do is destroy this overwhelming magnetism that draws you both together and by your way you grab onto the meat of his hips to pull him tighter to you, he knows you feel it too.

Has anything ever felt more euphoric than the way your full, soft pout feels? Has anyone ever tasted as sweet, has he ever been more instantly hooked on the sensation of someone else’s mouth pressed to his? He can’t remember anymore. There is nothing else outside of you in this desperate moment. 

Releasing your face, his rough fingertips follow the curve of your spine down to roundness of your ass where he grabs handfuls to massage. So absorbed in your taste, the feeling of your lips, the heat of your breath, that it takes minutes for him to realize that there is still a barrier between your bodies: the shorts now damp from the shower still hopelessly clinging to your hips. They have to go as they are very shortly going to get in the way.

“Wanna get these fuckin’ things off,” he murmurs against your lips as he pulls the fabric down, miserably removing his mouth from your own so that he can help you step out of them. They are quickly tossed past the shower curtain and before they even can hit the ground he is harshly pressed back against you once again to steal your mouth and devour your kiss. 

Your moistened bodies slip across each other as the pressure builds and the movements become more desperate, him pushing his hardened cock into your pelvis as he grinds against you and shoving a thick thigh between your parted legs to give you something to hump. He fills your mouth with a muffled groan as the silky lips of your pussy connect with the skin; it’s better than he could have ever imagined it feeling and he cannot wait to get inside and be constricted by your walls squeezing around him, but there’s a little more he has to explore first.

Patience, he’s going savor this moment like it’s the only one he’ll ever get.

“Tha’s it,” he encourages in a short burst, trailing his lips down to your jaw towards your throat as you roll your hips hard to catch your clit on the muscle. “Fuck, ya do need it bad, don’t ya? I wanna hear it, tell me how bad you’ve needed it, luv.” 

Those hungry lips reach the side of your neck and start to suck, puckering the skin into his mouth and you struggle to remember how to talk through the sensitivity hazing your thoughts. “Everytime I have to see you… f-fuck…  can’t sleep. Have to keep … uuughh… t- touching myself for relief.”

His mouth continues to trail lower and lower down the contours of your body, leaving warm, moist kisses along the skin of your collarbone and over the side of your chest. “Keep going,” he orders.  

You gulp down another moan as his burning lips lock to your breast, suctioning to the areola while that agile tongue flicks over the very tip of your nipple until it’s stiff. God, your tits are like heaven, so soft and juicy as they fill his mouth.  His hand palms over the other breast and begins to play; he won’t leave that one to not receive any attention.

“Can’t…focus,” you stammer, “can’t think of anything except you. Begging into the dark for you…to take me…to make me yours.”

“Think ‘a my cock a lot, luv?” he asks amused as he switches sides and takes the other breast into his hungry mouth.

The heat in your face makes your cheeks feel swollen. “I…do,” you admit as if you both aren’t already naked and humping each other. 

“Wonderin’ what it would feel like?”

“Wanting it inside me,” you add.

His hand leaves your chest and moves between your bodies to grab yours and bring it down to wrap around the girth of his shaft. “It don’t ‘ave to be a mystery anymore, sweetheart.” 

Goddammit, he’s big. You’d barely had time to register the look of it before his mouth was plastered to yours and though you can feel it grinding into you, now that it is in your fist it makes your breath hitch. “F-fuck…” you moan as your hand slides up and down the length.

Simon’s cock twitches as if in response to the ache in your voice and you can feel its heartbeat. The thrill to know you have a strong grip on such a man as the lieutenant, that it is you he wants, it’s you he needs, that his cock is hard just for you makes you grind against him with eyes closed trying to make yourself come.  

“Gonna stuff ya full,” he groans from the pressure you apply as you continue to work him. “Stretch out your sweet pussy.”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Please.”

The steam billows around your conjoined bodies, condensation enfolding you in a layer of mist as if you’re stuck in a dream when he finally emerges hastily from your chest with lips puffy and red from the suction. He rips your hand from around him as the pressure has almost reached the point of no return and aggressively he picks you up as if you weigh nothing; he’s stronger than you realized to be able to lift you almost effortlessly. 

“Put your legs ‘round me. Now,” he barks sharply and you do as you’re told. He braces your back up against the wall for leverage as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and his sight drifts down between your bodies. 

“Ready for me?” he asks, but it doesn’t sound like a question. 

A nod is all he is going to get, the inside of your mouth tasting like copper as you bite your cheek to keep quiet as his swollen tip slips through your petals to find the opening, rubbing up against your swollen clit. Your slick coats his cock, a clear sign that he’s good to go. It takes him only a moment with a slight adjustment of his hips to align with his target.

“Deep breath, sweet girl,” he says as he raises his gaze to peer back into your eyes and with a thrust the fat tip pushes through the threshold of your aching, throbbing core, stretching it wide as it takes him in.

Instantly you choke on the moan that stuffs your mouth full and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep it from escaping. The lieutenant does the same, but you can feel the bass vibrate through his chest as his steel-like grip digs harshly into your waist.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he says breathily through a lustful chuckle, fighting off the urge to blow his load before he’s even gotten all the way in, “but ya can take more, can’t ya?”

Another nod, more enthusiastic this time and again he thrusts past the tip down his veiny shaft and reaches the base. You can’t hold it in anymore, the way his cock fills you so full makes you lose yourself. Eye closed, you can’t stop the loud moan that you let out and the sound reverberates off the walls of the cramped space until it is amplified. To think you were ever going to satisfy yourself with only your fingers when all of this was waiting for you to discover seems almost comical now.  

The lieutenant’s large hand rushes to cover over your mouth. “Gotta be quiet for me. Don’t need anyone comin’ in and ruinin’ this. I’m not done with ya yet, luv; gotta make ya come for me first.”

The shine in your glazed-over eyes gives him your answer and he removes his hand with a nod as he knows an even better solution to keep you quiet. He leans back in and his lips pull yours into their secure embrace before he risks slipping in his tongue to wrestle with yours; can’t make much noise with your mouth so full.  

There’s no way he is going to calm down enough now to stave off his orgasm for much longer and so with your mouths connected he starts to thrust, dragging himself nearly out of your core before slamming back up into you. Every thrust strikes up into your pussy shoving him in as deep as he can get, your body shaking from the force as your back is dragged up and down along the wall. The moisture on the walls keeps the friction low so you can move easily with his percussive hits into your body.

So fucking wet, so goddamn tight, how is he meant to not fall apart? Simon can’t help rutting into all that goodness like an animal hell bent on capturing every bit of pleasure he can. Lost in the feeling his rhythm wavers, but breaking from your mouth and taking a few deep breaths he gets himself right back on track. As he bucks wildly up into you your arms hold on tightly around the back of his neck and you notice how the muscles tense with each of his strong thrusts. 

“Need ya ta come for me… need it so goddamn bad…” 

There is no hiding the desperation in his words. He has to know that your body belongs to him now, that after tonight you won’t ever even think of straying from him. You’re his, his, and after all the agony he’s endured before getting here, he has to make sure of it. 

That burn deep in the muscle starts to shoot through his thighs, but he doesn’t slow and the more he works the more that warmth gathers in the pit of your stomach. You’ve dreamed of moments like this for so long it becomes overwhelming: the feeling of his skin against yours, his cock buried deep inside you, his honeyed words conveying everything you’ve wanted to hear; it’s euphoric.

You whimper and quickly breathe it out. “Fuck, gonna come.” 

“Tha’s it, sweetheart. Almost there,” he coaxes, secretly knowing that at any moment he is going to come too. “Jus’ let go and come for me. Let me feel it, pretty girl.” 

It’s there, it’s so close. That sweet release is within reach. “A-ah…fuck… almost there…”

“My good girl,” he grunts, “come on my fuckin’ cock.” 

Your heart is beating out of your chest as the pleasure builds until all at once, like the flick of a switch, your core contracts and all of that intensity explodes in a blast of warmth that flows through your limbs. Leaning forward, you bury your face in his shoulder and whimper as you ride out that wave of ecstasy.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groans behind clenched teeth at the feeling as your core constricts around him, sending him over the edge. 

Wrenching his cock out as fast as he can, he angles it up between your bodies. You regain some composure, enough to instinctively reach for it to stroke him the rest of the way through. His hot, milky cum dribbles onto your stomach in short bursts while his upper body twitches as you work out all you can. Finally, he falls in against you and places his hand on top of yours to force you to stop.

The sound of the running water conceals the sound of your combined breathing as you both come back down from that high and he can set you back on your feet carefully. Back on solid ground you both just stand there quietly taking in the moment and all that just happened until the lieutenant breaks the silence.

“Think you’ll be able ta sleep now?” he asks as his fingertips caress over the heat in your cheeks.

You nod with a smile spread across your lips. “But I’m not sure about tomorrow night,” you say with a glimmer in your eyes. “Might be up again.”

Biting his lip he tilts his head away as he tries not to show how much it excites him to hear you say that, rubbing his hand over his head to slick back his short hair. “Well, we can’t have that,” he says. “Right now, though, I got a mess ta clean up.”

There is one last, deep kiss waiting for you before he gently pulls you under the showerhead to wash away the evidence of what happened here tonight. As he watches the water run down off your delicious curves and flow down the drain, he realizes that this is going to become an even bigger problem than he had before… but fuck is he ready for it.

[alygator77]

❖ cursed by color — satoru’s new look ❖

❀ summary. satoru gojo faces a challenge no amount of cursed energy can prepare him for—his daughter’s makeover. with pigtails, polish, and plenty of giggles, satoru finds himself utterly powerless to resist her antics.

❀ contents. pure fluff. pre-established relationship. you're both sorcerers. domesticity. satoru being the best girl dad.

��� wc. 2.7k

As you push the front door open, the first thing you hear is giggles. Not just any giggles—those giggles. The kind that signals trouble or, more likely, your husband being roped into something ridiculous by your daughter. Toeing off your shoes as you walk in, you turn the corner, curious to find out what mischief is happening now.

And there, you are met with Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer in the world, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the coffee table—completely at the mercy of your daughter.

“Hold still, Daddy! You’re gonna mess it up!” she scolds with all the authority a four-year-old can muster.

“I’m trying,” Satoru whines, his head tipped back against the couch. “But I’m starting to think I’ll be stuck like this forever.”

Biting your lip, you suppress a laugh as you step further into the room.

“Oh, and what’s going on here?”

Satoru’s head swivels toward you, a grin instantly spreading across his face.

“Ah, my love, you’re just in time to witness history in the making. I’m being upgraded.”

Your eyebrow raises as you take in the sight of him—each finger covered in glittery pink nail polish.

“Upgraded, huh? Looks more like a full-on makeover.”

Proud of her work—your daughter beams up at you.

“Mommy, look! Daddy said the glitter makes him super strong!”

“Did he now?” you glance at Satoru with a smirk. “How much stronger are we talkin’ here?”

“Like, a million times stronger!” she declares with a big smile, capping the nail polish bottle like a professional. “All done!”

Satoru lifts his hands, admiring the sparkling polish with a mock serious expression.

“I’m practically invincible now.”

Ah, but—your daughter, isn’t done. Jumping up with excitement, her eyes gleam with a new idea.

“Daddy! Daddy! Now I’m gonna do your hair!”

Satoru freezes in panic, eyes darting between you and your daughter.

“Uh, my hair? I’m pretty sure it’s perfect as is, don’t you think?”

But before he can protest, your daughter has already dashed off to grab her hair accessories.

“y/n! Help! I’m being held hostage by a tiny tyrant,” he pleads, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes.

But you just grin, crossing your arms.

“Oh no, I wouldn’t dream of stopping her. Besides, I’d love to see what she comes up with.”

“Traitor…” Satoru mutters under his breath as your daughter returns moments later with a plastic comb and a handful of colorful hair ties.

“Sit still, Daddy!” she demands, climbing onto his lap and tugging at his snowy white hair with enthusiasm.

Satoru winces but stays obediently still, his lips twitching between a grimace and a grin.

“Yes, ma’am. I wouldn’t dream of ruining your masterpiece.” He flinches as she accidentally tugs a bit too hard. “Ouch. Careful, sweetheart. Daddy needs to keep some of his hair please.”

Too engrossed in her ‘hairstylist’ role to notice his plea, your daughter starts gathering little sections of his hair, combing it carefully, and securing them with bright pink and purple hair ties—the pigtails are uneven, sticking out at odd angles, but she works with such determination—her little tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration.

“There!” she announces, standing back up to admire her work. “Now you look perfect, Daddy!”

Satoru raises an eyebrow, looking at you with a mix of resignation and amusement.

“Perfect, huh?”

Stepping closer, you pretend to give his new look a serious evaluation—his hair is pulled into several lopsided pigtails, each one accented by colorful clips and ties.

“Hmm, I don’t know... It’s close, but I think something’s missing sweetheart.”

Satoru narrows his eyes at you suspiciously.

“What do you mean, ‘something’s missing’?”

Giving him a playful grin, you pretend to study his face before snapping your fingers.

“Ah, I’ve got it. Makeup. A look like this just isn’t complete without some makeup.”

Satoru’s eyes widen in horror as your daughter gasps excitedly.

“You’re right Mommy!”

“No, no, no—” Satoru starts to protest, but your daughter is already darting toward your room, her giggles echoing through the house as she searches for your makeup bag. He drops his head back against the couch, groaning. “y/n, why would you do this to me? Haven’t I suffered enough?”

You plop down next to him on the floor and tap his nose teasingly.

“You’ve handled curses. You can handle a four-year-old stylist. Stay strong.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy!” your daughter chimes in, running back as she triumphantly holds your makeup bag. “You’re gonna look soooo cute!”

Satoru lets out a resigned sigh, leaning back and closing his eyes.

“Alright. Do your worst, kiddo.”

As your daughter starts unpacking the makeup bag, he mutters under his breath to you.

“Just so you know, I expect full compensation for this. Something involving chocolate cake.”

Chuckling, you reach out for his hand and interlock your fingers—offering him a comforting squeeze.

“Oh, you’ll get cake. Maybe a crown too, after this.”

“Great,” he sighs dramatically, “I’ll take the cake in exchange for my dignity.”

Your daughter, too focused to even notice your banter, pulls out a tube of bright pink lipstick.

“Okay, Daddy, pucker up!”

Sighing dramatically again, he puckers his lips for your daughter, who eagerly leans in to apply the lipstick with far more enthusiasm than precision—half of the lipstick ends up on his upper lip, and the other half, somewhere closer to his chin.

“Beautiful!” your daughter announces proudly, standing back to admire her work.

Satoru tries to glance down at his lips, his eyebrow quirking up.

“Beautiful, huh? Uh… should I be concerned that I can’t feel where half of this is?”

You cover your mouth, trying not to burst out laughing.

“It’s very... abstract.”

Before Satoru can comment, your daughter is already moving on—she pulls out the blush, her face scrunched in concentration as she starts swirling it onto his cheeks. The rosy color quickly turns into something more akin to a deep flush.

“Um, I think you’re using too much—” Satoru tries to say, but your daughter shushes him with a stern hand wave.

“Shhhh, Daddy! I’m the artist, remember?”

She dabs even more blush on his nose for good measure, and you cover your mouth again— trying to stifle your laughter as Satoru glares at you through squinted eyes.

“y/n, this feels personal.”

“Oh, not at all,” you exhale—grinning, “but I’ll admit, it’s a great look.”

Your daughter continues, switching to mascara—she fumbles with the tube for a second, and Satoru tenses, his eyes growing wide as she holds it up like a delicate weapon.

“Now for your eyes, Daddy!”

He blinks, sitting up a little straighter, and your daughter, eager to get closer, stands up on Satoru’s lap—wobbling slightly for balance. But as she leans in, her footing slips, and she topples forward, the mascara wand making a beeline for his face.

“Whoa—wait!” Satoru blurts out, instinctively pulling back, catching her mid-fall just before the brush nearly pokes him in the eye. He holds her steady as the brush grazes his cheek instead.

“Jeez, kiddo,” he chuckles, but there’s a hint of relief in his voice. “Let's not get too close with that thing. I still need my vision for exorcising curses.”

As he pats her head gently, your daughter giggles, scrambling back up—completely unfazed by her near-miss. She quickly regains her balance, waving the mascara wand again with renewed enthusiasm.

“Oops, sorry, Daddy! I’ll be more careful this time!” and without skipping a beat, she leans in for another attempt while Satoru sighs in playful resignation—a grin curling upon his lips.

“Okay, artist, but one smudge and I’m calling a redo. I have standards, y’know.”

You pull your knees into your chest—watching them with adoration.

“Hmm, I thought Infinity was supposed to block all external threats,” you grin, raising an eyebrow. “Guess it’s no match for a determined toddler, huh?”

Satoru laughs softly, watching your daughter carefully swipe the mascara across his lashes. As his gaze lingers on her, his smile softens—his voice lowering as the playful banter fades, leaving behind something more heartfelt.

“Mm, well… infinity can handle most things, but when it comes to her?” he glances up at you, a gaze full of warmth and affection as his voice dips lower—he offers you a small shrug. “And you? I’m powerless.”

Warmth floods your chest as you see the love in his eyes—it’s moments like this where he’s just Satoru—not the strongest sorcerer, but the man who adores you—the man who would do anything for his two girls.

“Well,” you murmur, a small smile curling up your lip, “powerless looks good on you.”

You hold his gaze—an unspoken intimacy in the air, and your daughter, blissfully unaware of the tender moment, finishes her masterpiece with a triumphant flourish.

“All done, Daddy! Now you look soooo pretty!”

Satoru blinks a few times, adjusting to the feel of the mascara on his lashes.

“Oh yeah? Am I ready for a night out?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, still holding onto that playful grin.

“Forget the night out—you’re ready for a photoshoot,” you quip, quickly snapping a picture of him before he can react.

The moment the camera clicks, Satoru’s eyes widen, and his grin falters.

“Wait—did you just...?” His tone turns from amused to mock-horrified as he realizes what you’ve done. “Oh no, no, no. Give me that phone, y/n.”

You hold the phone up just out of his reach, smirking.

“What, you don’t want the world to see the ‘prettiest’ sorcerer in all his glory?”

Satoru lunges toward you, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“You’re not keeping that!” he declares, and before you know it, he’s trying to snatch the phone from your hand.

You squeal, spinning away from him as you clutch the phone tightly to your chest.

“Oh, come on! This is gold!”

Satoru reaches out, his hands grabbing at your waist as he tries to get closer.

“Nope, delete it!” he insists, laughing as he playfully wrestles you for the phone.

You twist away again, giggling as you evade his attempts, dancing just out of his reach.

“Oh, but it’s too good to delete! You’ll thank me later when this becomes your new profile picture.”

“Like hell I will!” Satoru laughs, lunging again, this time managing to grab your wrist. He tugs you closer, using his free hand to reach for the phone. “Come on, y/n, hand it over. No one needs to see me with pigtails and mascara.”

You’re both laughing now, the playfulness escalating as you try to wiggle free from his grasp.

“But you look stunning! This could be your big modeling break!”

Just as Satoru tries to make another move for the phone, you hear an excited giggle from behind you—before either of you can react, your daughter’s voice rings out.

“Dog pile on Daddy!”

Satoru lets out an exaggerated groan as your daughter climbs onto his back, clinging to his shoulders with her little arms.

“Ahhh! No, not you too!” he cries dramatically, the grin never leaving his face.

Your daughter bounces excitedly on his back, giggling as she tightens her grip around his neck.

“Mommy! You too! Dog pile on Daddy!”

You can’t resist the pure chaos unfolding in front of you—the joy in her laughter pulling you in.

“You asked for it ‘toru,” with a grin, and a playful lunge, you tackle Satoru to the floor, landing on top of him with a light thud.

Satoru stumbles under the weight of both his girls, dramatically flopping onto the floor as if utterly defeated.

“Ahh! Nooo! I’m down! I’m down!” he cries, laughing so hard his eyes squeezed shut.

Your daughter squeals with joy, her laughter infectious as she bounces on his chest.

“We got him, Mommy! We got him!”

“Yeah, you did,” Satoru groans, still laughing as he reaches up to dramatically shield his face with one hand. “I didn’t stand a chance.”

The three of you are laughing uncontrollably now, tangled together on the floor in a mess of arms and legs. Satoru—still pinned beneath you and your daughter—finally rolls over onto his back, pulling you both into his chest as he catches his breath.

“Looks like you’re officially outnumbered, Satoru,” you tease, holding your phone up to show off the photo of him—his hair a colorful mess of pigtails and clips, his lips bright pink, and his cheeks dusted heavily with blush.

Satoru’s eyes widen in mock horror when he sees the picture.

“Betrayed by my own family... I should’ve seen this coming.”

Before you can respond, your daughter leans in to look at the picture, her eyes lighting up as she gasps.

“Daddy! You’re soooo pretty!” she declares with an enthusiastic smile.

Satoru’s faux horror softens immediately as he laughs, pulling her into a hug.

“Pretty, huh? Well, I guess if my favorite artist says so, then it must be true.”

“Guess you’re not just the strongest anymore—pretty’s your new title,” you grin, propping yourself up on your elbow as you rest your chin in your hand.

Satoru narrows his eyes playfully at you, but there’s a mischievous glint forming in his gaze—grinning, he leans back as if an idea has just struck him. His voice drops to a teasing murmur as he turns to your daughter.

“But you know...” he begins slyly, his grin growing wider, “since my little artist did such a great job on me, maybe it’s Mommy’s turn next.”

You shoot him a look, instantly suspicious.

“Oh, don’t you dare.”

Satoru’s smirk deepens, clearly reveling in your mock hesitation. He pulls your daughter closer, his hand gently running through her hair, adding a touch of tenderness to his playful plotting.

“It’s only fair, right, princess?” he asks conspiratorially, glancing down at her with that warm, affectionate look that always gets her excited. “I say it’s time for Mommy to get the full makeover treatment.”

She gasps, clapping her hands together in delight.

“Yes! Mommy’s turn! I can make you look soooo pretty, Mommy!”

You sit up, laughing nervously as she squeals—your hands up in a surrender.

“Wait, wait, maybe we should—”

But it’s too late—your daughter is running towards the nail polish, and Satoru leans back on his elbows as he watchers her go—looking far too pleased with himself.

“Looks like you’re not getting out of this one,” he says smugly. “You’re in good hands,” he continues, nodding toward your daughter as she eagerly collects nail polish and clips. “She’s a pro—you’ll look ‘soooo pretty,’ just like me.”

You groan in mock defeat but smile nonetheless.

“Oh great, the prettiest sorcerer title will soon belong to me.”

Satoru sits up, chuckling softly as he glances over at you. His eyes find yours and the world seems to slow—his expression softening in that way that always makes your heart flutter.

“You’ve always had that title,” he murmurs, with a tender smile. “No contest.”

A warmth creeps up your face as his gaze holds yours—you can feel the sincerity in the way he looks at you, like you’ve always been his everything.

Reaching over, he gently brushes his knee against yours in a simple but affectionate gesture.

“I love you, you know that?”

His voice carries the weight of those words, and you lean in—unable to stop yourself from pressing a gentle kiss to his temple before you rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath you.

“I know,” you whisper back. “I love you too.”

Satoru sighs lightly, the sound barely more than a breath as his arm wraps around you—drawing you closer against him. His hand moves in slow, soothing motions along your arm, his thumb tracing soft circles over your skin.

Together, you sit in peaceful contentment—like nothing in the world could disrupt this moment—wrapped up in the easy warmth of each other’s presence as your daughter hums happily in the background, carefully arranging her colorful collection of nail polishes and hair clips.

Satoru’s voice, barely above a whisper, breaks the quiet but not the peace.

“As long as I have you two,” he murmurs, “there’s no curse I can’t handle.”

a/n. yeah... fuck ch 271. i needed some satoru comfort so here you guys go :')

[honeyed-nothings]

To Have a Crush: Savanaclaw

Warning(s): Gender-neutral reader, not proof-read, OOC

Notes: Procrastination hit me hard…also I did not expect to spend an hour finding decent enough emoticons for them. May just switch to regular bullet point style someday since I’m still trying to figure out what format I like(╥_╥). Never realized how hard it was to make a pretty format on tumblr until now. Also I’ve gotten pretty rusty too but my schedule has finally cleared up a bit so I’ll be able to be a little more active now!

Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia

Leona Kingscholar

𓄂 A crown of love that the king wears. A herbivore was all you were to him. Another nameless face in the faceless crowd of people who he couldn’t care less about in the grand scheme of things. That’s how it was supposed to stay…until it didn’t. The proud lion will never admit this (or at least not anytime soon) but that day where you, a weak and stupidly stubborn human, stood your ground among all the dust and debris was both one of the most frustrating experiences in his life and also the first time he ever thought of you as ‘strong’. Every so often he thinks back to that moment and sighs before pulling you towards him to lay on the grass.

𓄂 A king should always be accompanied by his retainers. However, he’s not king and you’re definitely not his retainer. Just a stubborn herbivore who happened to catch his eye, that’s all. You’re not that great as an errand runner either but it’s better than just one. A help that Ruggie greatly appreciates but occasionally complains about how you always take the lighter load. Don’t think much about it, he just doesn’t want you messin’ up or anythin’. Strangely, whenever you do run errands for him, there’s conviently always an extra that he gives to you. Reasoning to you that the King of Beasts would’ve done the same thing to those under his care. The proud lion knows this is a lie he can’t keep using to play off what he feels inside. Not when his own ears and tail betray him.

𓄂 Tch, well this is embarrassing.

𓄂 Maybe it was a good thing that Leona already knew. From the moment his tail unconsciously wrapped around you, he knew what his heart was telling him as it beat in his chest. There, with you and him napping underneath the shade of a tree, he realized he had fallen in love. He didn’t know whether he should’ve laughed or cursed the world so he chose to do neither instead. Gently brushing a stray leaf off that had fallen on your face, he chuckled. Guess something like love ain’t all that bad.

𓄂 A crownless lion who’s more hated than loved and a visitor from a place far from here. An interesting duo you two make as he pulls you yet again away from class to nap in the shade with him. His attempts at catching your heart aren’t too noticeable, only noticed by the keenest of eyes. He’ll never be the ideal partner, that he acknowledges despite his pride. But being sappy and overly romantic isn’t his style. That’s why, he’ll win your heart in his own way. A path perhaps not that of a king, but of a man in-love. The prideful lion may not bow his head to no one, but for you he’ll take a knee.

“Huh, well aren’t you gettin’ bolder? I didn’t think you’d beat me to it.”

Ruggie Bucchi

シ Hidden amidst the dirt and grime was love. It’s ingrained into Ruggie to look after people but he’s learnt to not let it be given without a price. Outside of his family and Leona, the latter of whom was more so to help his own skin, he didn’t exactly feel any desire or need to look after you. Sure he felt pity, after all you’re in a tighter spot than him in the world, but aside from that you were just an after thought. Nobody of note that could be beneficial to him in any way. That was until Leona overbloted and well…he’s somewhat grateful that you don’t have much of a survival instinct. You’re a real goody two-shoes aren’t you? Still, he’s thankful that you’re the way that you are. Hyenas never forget a debt and this one he owes to you alone.

シ It really just started off with it being to repay his debt to you. Sure it’s not much but he can’t really do anything fancy like paying you millions of madols or giving you land. That’s why, the hyena has chosen to pay it back his own way. Simple as it may be, it’s all he really has to offer. It’s not like watching your back is gonna cause him anymore work than he’s already got. Soon enough, he found himself doing more than what he intended to. Giving parts of his lunch to you, claiming he didn’t feel like it or there was extra. Stopping during his errands whenever he spotted you to have a quick chat before going off again with slightly more enthusiasm than before. Or heck, sparing you a few madols so you can get what you need. It’s kinda a loss but he just can’t seem to make himself stop. Not when you smile at him so brightly.

シ Wait a minute.

シ Nah…nahh he can’t seriously be in love with you or somethin’, right? Being close to you is just to pay off his debt, not cause he actually likes your company or anything, right?? But as his eyes catch his reflection on the window panes of the college, he can no longer deny the blush on his face or the rapid beating of his heart as the thought of you runs rampant in his mind once again. Well, guess there’s no point in fidgeting around anymore.

シ He’s not much, really he ain’t. Ruggie knows he won’t hold a candle to anyone else in the school in terms of magic or madol but what he does have is his smarts. In his own way, he’ll try and appeal to you. Sometimes he’s confident, other times he feels like he wants to die from how embarrassing it must’ve looked. Still, he tries and tries and tries. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll choose him buried underneath piles of trash.

“You-…you’re really choosing me?”

Jack Howl

ᴥ︎ Love that resounds throughout the night. A team up was all Jack figured it’d be. An agreement to right the wrongs and set things straight so that one day, once more, Savanaclaw would be able to say from the bottom of their hearts that they won. Nothing big enough to lead into the friendship that came to be between you and him. Well then things took a turn for the worse and then the better and well…he’s sure you get it. An accident, a friendship, a bond, whatever it is, the stubborn wolf has decided that he’ll have your back. No matter what and no matter where, he’ll help you out.

ᴥ︎ Respect was all it was. A respect towards a magicless human who proved their own strength by courageously standing in the face of death. Not everyone has a spirit like that and the wolf beastman couldn’t help but look at that and think ‘Ah, now that’s strength’. In doing so, he wanted to be respected by you too. That’s why, when he could, he’d wait outside Ramshackle and walk with you to your classes, carrying your books and providing an umbrella if it’s a rainy day. Need help on the homework? He won’t tell you the answers but he’ll help you figure it out at least. Like working out? Great! He’s more than willing to provide some tips and tricks to achieving the goal you want. Well it wasn’t until Ruggie teased him about how much more happy he seemed doing all that stuff for you that it finally clicked for him. This…isn’t good.

ᴥ︎ D-don’t misunderstand him!

ᴥ︎ Actually no, maybe you should— wait no you shouldn’t! Jack doesn’t know how to feel about…this now that he fully recognizes it. Well- he does, in a way, it’s just…complicated. To be honest, he did have a suspicion that his feelings of respect towards you had turned into something deeper. How fast his tail wagged whenever you were nearby, how he wanted to put even more effort into whatever he was doing when you were watching, how red his face turned whenever he took a ‘secret’ glance in your direction, it really was way too obvious looking back on it.

ᴥ︎ Wolf-type beastmen only have one partner for the rest of their lives. Dedicating themselves entirely to whoever their partner may be. Jack always dreamed of finding his one true partner, he just never expected it to happen so soon. Yes, a crush to him counts as his one true love as childish as it may be. With exactly zero romantic experience under his belt and only equipped with the knowledge of the multiple times his parents told him their love story, he attempts to appeal to you. Surprisingly, for a first timer in love, they’re all thought out and not embarrassing. Jack isn’t good at hiding how feels about you in front of you or anyone else, but it has a certain charm to it. The charm of an adolescent boy in love who cares for you quietly, unable to hide how he feels, as his heart and tail follow the same beat.

“..Phew, you’re here. Prefect, I—uh need to tell you something.”

[tender-rosiey]

Can u do a drabble with jjk men where their child gets into a physical fight?

"MY KID IS NOT GUILTY, YOUR HONOR!"

— when your kid with gojo, sukuna, nanami, geto, and toji gets into a fight (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

your husband happily swings your hands together, as you walk to the principal’s office. meanwhile, you’re worried sick about s/n and what happened to him.

satoru rubs your hand reassuringly before slamming the door open and yelling, “did you win?!”

your eyes widen, but before you interject, s/n replies back enthusiastically, “yes, I did!”

you hurry to your son, kneeling in front of him to check him thoroughly.

you let out a sigh of relief when you see that he isn’t hurt in any way. sensing your distress, he hugs you. “I missed you, mama,” he says, snuggling into your neck.

“me too,” you smile and almost get lost in the moment, but then you hear a camera shutter. you look back and see your husband, holding a camera.

“oops, don’t mind me, hun.”

the dad of the other boy—who you didn’t notice was even there—stands up, livid, “can you take this a bit more seriously?! my son is injured!”

you’re about to reply yourself, but then satoru beats you to it. he stands right in front of the man and looks down at him, “surely, you’re not yelling at my wife, right?”

the man stumbles back into his chair, and satoru stares him down, making him sink even further into the chair.

the mother then speaks to you, “what your son did is unacceptable! look at how my baby is right now!”

looking at the other boy, you decide that the mother has every right to be mad. his nose is bleed profusely. you’re pretty sure it’s broken.

you look at your son and quirk an eyebrow, “s/n? what happened?”

“I was showing my friends the picture I got of you, and he said you were ugly! he can’t do that!”

your husband turns back and gasps, “he did what?!”

as if the dad himself is the one that is getting scolded, his eyes get teary.

meanwhile, you see the mother whispering to the boy, and he nods, ashamed. she looks back at you and says, “however, what your son did is not acceptable.”

“I know that the reaction was a bit much, but what your son did is also unacceptable,” you answer with your son nodding behind you.

“well—can you not be so close to my husband?” she snaps at satoru, whose cursed energy is increasing.

“you and your husband need to get taught a lesson if you raise a kid that’s so stupid he thinks my beautiful, divinie, and drop dead gorgeous wife is ugly,” he states, and the lady finds herself shrinking back beside her husband.

the little boy also scrambles into his parents’ embrace.

you place your hand on satoru’s forearm, and he immediately relaxes.

you smile and press a kiss to his cheek then pat your son’s back before instructing him softly, “you have to apologize for hurting him so much, though, s/n, okay?”

your son, ever the obedient sweetheart when it comes to you, looks at the boy, “I am sorry, but you should be sorry too!”

the other boy nods, crying, “I am sorry!”

your son nods, satisfied with the answer. your husband then picks s/n up and spins him around as he sings his praises, “I am so proud of you for defending mama like that! so so proud!”

the boy grins happily and hugs his dad. satoru then raises his finger, “but you gotta know that people are weak, so we can only do this to them all the time.”

your son nods eagerly, before wiggling to the ground. he runs to you, excited to tell you about his day. you grin and listen to him happily, ignoring the crying family on the other side.

your husband kisses the top of your head before turning to the principal with a smirk, “so, principal, is there anything you would like to say?”

“I am gonna piss myself.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

you dragged sukuna to the principal’s office, after you got a call of a major incident happening involving him. your husband insisted on dismissing it, but you just had a feeling that something is seriously wrong.

you both enter the office, eyes immediately falling on your son who is sitting unbothered on the chair. meanwhile, the principal is resting his elbows on the desk and striking a pose that could only be described as trouble.

when s/n sees you two, his eyes light up, and he runs to give you—and only you—a hug. sukuna scowls, “what about me?”

“you said you don’t like my hugs,” your son huffs, averting his eyes away. sukuna stares at him for a second, before picking him up by the scruff and placing him in his arms.

the boy looks at his dad, shocked, before snuggling into his embrace.

your husband leans his head just a bit on s/n’s head. you both then direct your attention to the waiting principal.

the principal taps his fingers together, but sukuna grumbles, “are you not gonna talk?”

you stifle a giggle—which sukuna notices and you notice the slight smirk now present on his face. the principal looks up at the three of you then speaks slowly, “well, you see…”

he looks up, “your son set my car on fire.”

a few beats pass.

then your husband barks out a laugh, one so hearty that it catches everyone but you off-guard.

the principal looks incredously at sukuna. your son tilts his head in confusion, before sukuna ruffles his hair, “how did you even do that? seriously, that’s my son for you!”

the boy thrives off his dad’s praise, and they get lost in their world, as your son details how he orchestrated everything.

the principal frowns, vexed. he clears his throat to speak up, “sir, I think you might have misheard. I am saying your son—”

“did I ask you to repeat yourself?”

the tone leaves no room for discussion, and it also sends shivers down the principal’s spine. your little boy snickers, and you side-eye him, effectively shutting him up.

the principal shakes his head slowly, then he looks at you for help.

truthfully, the man has every right to be both terrified and offended cause what the hell kinda is able to set a car on fire and act so nonchalant about it? it’s the kinda kid with a dad who backs him up for it.

however, the man assumes that voice of reason is you.

you want to help, but you’re just too tired. so, you smile, “I understand that what happened is harsh, sir,” he lights up, then you continue, “but surely, you can get a new one, right?”

the man pauses and looks at you with wide eyes, before spluttering, “wha—ma’am, you can’t be serious—"

“surely, you. can. get. a. new. one. right?” you glare.

the man nods frantically.

sukuna smirks pridefully, and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. he leans his face near your ear and whispers, “my kinda woman.”

you smile and wrap your arm around his waist and squeeze his hip in return. you both exchange affectionate bedroom looks, forgetting about the frightened principal.

meanwhile, s/n looks at you guys, wrorried, and murmurs, “mom, you’re scarier than dad.”

despite what he says, s/n jumps into your arms and nuzzles against your cheek. your husband rolls his eyes with no real annoyance behind them.

with all the courage left in him, the principal smiles nervously and stutters, “you—you can leave now; I sincerely and deeply apologize for the hold up.”

nobody moves an inch.

“…please leave.”

NANAMI KENTO:

you, your husband, and your daughter are now seated in the principal’s office.

you are waiting for the other kid and her parents to come in as well. you’re tapping your feet, restlessly, but kento lays his hand on your knee and rubs it gently.

he nods at you, and you smile.

you know your daughter would never fight unprovoked. said daughter gets off her chair and climbs into your lap. she hugs you tightly, and you instantly start petting her hair.

she lets a small sigh, but then the principal enters the office with the other parents in toe. you see your husband’s eyes narrow, before he leans close to d/n and asks gently, “isn’t that the girl you said was bullying your friend?”

your daughter nods intensely and whispers back, “she was about to hit her today, and you told me not to let people bully others! that’s why I hit her.”

you pat her head, and she grins. kento hums then nods, “I get that, but couldn’t you get a teacher, sweetheart?”

“the teacher would’ve taken too long!” your daughter huffs, and she is right. but, there still is a lesson that she needs to understand.

the principal clears his throat and sits in his chair. “well mr. and mrs. nanami, your daughter has inflicted pain on a friend of hers—”

“bullies aren’t my friends!”

good saying, but this probably isn’t the time. you pat her back, and she instantly understands what you mean, so she—begrudgingly—calms down.

the principal continues, “as I was saying, she hit her classmate, and as you can see, it left a bruise. such violent acts are prohibited in this respected establishment.”

“shouldn’t bullying be prohibited as well?” you ask, and the man splutters.

“that doesn’t happen—”

“i can assure you that my wife is speaking the truth,” kento backs you up, “if you would like, we can check the cameras or what the teachers say regarding the environment you’re fostering.”

your daughter’s head starts spinning from the big words.

your husband places a hand on the top of her head before resuming, “while I acknowledge that my daughter shouldn’t have been physical in defending her friend, you ought to acknowledge that what the other girl did was also unacceptable.”

“and since you want to solve the root of the problem, shouldn’t you punish the one that did the bullying and warranted my daughter to act in defense?” you press on, and the principal gulps.

the father of the girl stands up, “my princess would do no such thing—”

“your record isn’t that pretty either, so I suggest you sit down,” you say with a smile, and it does the trick. the man immediately sticks to his wife—who has said nothing, and you assume it’s because she knew what her daughter did.

everybody keeps staring at each other for a while, with your daughter having a staring contest with the other girl.

“we will deal with our daughter accordingly,” kento speaks up as he stands up, straightening his suit, “but we expect that the girl is also held accountable for her shameful actions. thank you.”

you and d/n get up, and the three of you exit the office—like icons. kento holds your hand and d/n’s, and you giggle, “did you see how they looked?”

“should you be encouraging d/n about laughing at others?” your husband asks with a small quirk of his eyebrow. you nod confidently.

“if they’re rude then yes!”

he shakes his head helplessly with a smile. then your daughter looks up to kento as you are walking and says excitedly, “dad, I won!”

your husband looks down at her then smiles gently, nodding as he gives her a thumbs up. you raise your eyebrows and gasp lowly, “hypocrisy?”

“hmm, I don’t know.”

GETO SUGURU:

your daughters hang off their dad’s back as you guys head to the principal’s office. they squeal and giggle, and suguru has an ever-permanent smile.

he is holding onto your hand gently and says, “don’t worry; I doubt that the girls actually caused damage.”

“I know, but what I am curious about is why they would get into something,” you reply, pensive, “I know my daughters very well,” you smile, and the girls grin.

they start chanting your name, clapping, and saying I love you a million times.

you open the door slowly and are met with the principal standing in front of his desk and a girl standing on top of it. your eyebrows furrow in confusion, as you all enter.

your husband wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close. he tilts his head, “so, what’s wrong?”

the man drums his fingers on the desk, leaning back, “your daughters have ganged up on my daughter.”

the both of you take a moment to examine the girl from afar. there seems nothing wrong with her: no bruise, no blood, no nothing.

you exchange looks, and you take the turn to speak up, “your daughter looks okay to me.”

the man huffs and crosses his arms, “she was hurt emotionally! severely too!”

the girl nods strongly and pouts. her dad gasps and hugs her. he then starts coddling her before asking her, “what did they say to you, sugarplum?”

“they said that I looked like a mole rat, daddy!” she replies, hand on her chest as she ‘falls’ to her knees, “and—and that’s only one of the many bad things they said!”

the man gasps yet again and starts comforting her.

you and your husband let out a snort, barely containing your laughter. the girls puff their chest in confidence. you and suguru look at each other with a poorly hidden grin, and you get caught.

the man fumes, “you’re laughing at my dear sweet princess sugar?!”

“no, we are laughing at the insult,” you reply.

“it’s quite creative,” suguru chuckles before turning to the girls who have long let go of him. he kneels down and asks them, “why did you guys do that?”

“she pulled my hair!” one of the twins spoke.

the other chimes in, “and she made fun of me.”

“oh.”

just from that word alone, you can tell which path your husband is gonna take in continuing this conversation. you have a half a mind to make him summon rainbow dragon to take you home.

you just wanted to know the reason, and suguru is probably never going to leave it at that. forget how ‘calm’ he usually is, his family should never be insulted.

“…see, this why you’re all a bunch of monkeys.”

“monkeys!!” the twins scream in unison.

this time both the principal and the daughter gasp incredulously. your secretly a diva of a husband carries your girls then holds your hand before exiting the office.

he walks in silence, and you quirk an eyebrow, “so, what are you going to do, mister ‘filthy monkeys’?”

“I have a feeling that you’re making fun of me, honey.”

“and that feeling would be right.”

the girls settle on his shoulders, freeing his arms, and he takes the chance to tickle you. you squeal, “suguru, stop! I am serious! not in public!”

“but you’re being mean, sweetheart,” he mock pouts, “such bad things you’re saying.”

your roll your eyes, and you guys continue on your merry way back home.

that event passed by like a breeze, but for some reason, the school has been appointed a new principal because the last one went missing.

I wonder why.

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

“relax, ma,” your husband says as he rubs your shoulder in hopes of comforting you, “the kid is surely fine; he is our son after all.”

“I know, toji! but what if he did get hurt?” you fret then scowl, “I swear to god, if they harm a single hair on megumi’s head, I will make them wish they were never born!”

toji smirks lightly and ruffles your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, before opening the door. he sees megumi sat, arms crossed and frowning.

involuntary, toji lets out a sigh of relief, and you waste no time in going to your son and checking on him, bombarding him with questions.

“did you get hurt?”

“no.”

“did he hurt you?”

“no.”

“are you okay?”

“yes.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, mom, I am fine,” megumi murmurs, cheeks heating up at your affection. toji chuckles at the display before looking at the principal.

the man purses his lips before sighing, “your son has beaten up jay.”

you and your husband blink silently. then your husband tilts his head, “who?”

the principal grits his teeth before standing up. he crosses his arms before huffing, “jay, the son of the town’s mayor! that boy is as important as his father, yet your son has so brazenly hurt him!”

you frown, “I don’t care who he is, and I am sure that my son won’t hit somebody for no reason!”

megumi nods, and you smile at him.

you pat his hair gently, and he reluctantly leans into the affection. meanwhile, toji has been listening silently before turning to megumi and asking, “who the hell is that?”

“the one with the sea slug hair,” he replies instantly. you let out a hum of recognition.

your husband stares blankly before he clicks his finger, “oh,” he then looks at megumi and ruffles his hair with a small grin, “I hated that kid’s dad—good job.”

megumi lets out a small smile before giving his dad a thumbs up. you roll your eyes with no real annoyance behind them and side-eye toji.

toji chuckles then looks at the fuming principal. the man, now red in the face, yells, “mr fushiguro, that is unacceptable behavior from both you and your son!”

“…okay?”

you shake your head and usher megumi out of the room. you and toji share a look, before you close the door. the moment it clicks, your husband turns to the principal with a blank face.

he takes a few steps, stopping right in front of the man. toji grabs the principal’s shoulder then speaks lowly, “you won’t speak of this, ‘kay?”

he nods frantically, face contorting as he tries to compose himself. toji smirks and heads to the door with a small wave, “see ya never, teach.”

your husband finds you and megumi in the school’s garden.

he sees megumi and yuuji—his friend—playing together, while you relax on the bench. for some reason, toji feels a wave of warmth flood his chest as when he sees you and megumi smiling.

yuuji yells something to you that makes you laugh heartily. toji feels himself relax and smile just slightly. it’s moments like these he feels ever so grateful to have you in his life.

and he swears to forever protect you and megumi. he has acknowledged a long time ago that his only wish is to be by your side.

that’s why, in no time, he is behind you, effectively blocking the sun. you look up from where you’re sat to your husband.

“hey pretty,” he hums.

you chuckle as he rests his elbows on the bench, “slain?”

he grins, “slain.”

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[pretentious-blonde]

independent

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: remus loves you wholeheartedly, even when you threaten to give him a heart attack

warnings: none, fluff, clumsy reader, stressed remus

a/n: short and sweet ❤️

Remus turned the key in the lock of the flat, happy to feel some relief from the autumn chill as he stepped inside the shared space. The soft thud of his shoes echoed through the hallway as he shrugged off his coat. It had been a long day and he felt a tired stiffness in his shoulders, all he wanted to do was relax and enjoy another evening with you, catch up on anything exciting he may have missed while absent. 

“Darling, I’m home!” He called out, his voice echoing up the stairs. He was curious as to why there was no response, usually, you bounded down the stairs as soon as you heard the door open. He climbed upwards, his footsteps light on the old wooden floorboards. “Love, are you hiding again? Because I have to tell you, it’s a losing battle. I always find you in the end.”

He glanced around the living room, still waiting for an answer, his smile widening as he turned the corner to the bedroom. His eyes scanned over the room, searching for where you could have been concealed. “Dove, what are we—“

He stopped himself as he saw what was happening, heart lurching. You were precariously balanced on a wobbly ladder, one that should have been tossed months ago. He was usually tall enough to reach pretty much anything you needed in the apartment, plus he liked you asking him to. It made him feel needed. 

Your arm was stretched up towards the ceiling, clearly changing a lightbulb, your expression determined and filled with concentration.

“What are you doing?” He asked even if it was obvious, his voice was low, despite the slight panic he felt rising in his chest. 

“I am changing a lightbulb,” you told him matter-of-factly, completely calm as if you weren’t on the verge of toppling over at any second. You spoke to him like it was obvious. “It broke.”

He took a deep breath in, his lips formed a thin line as he quickly strode over to you, eyes constantly watching the unstable ladder you stood on, holding it in place. “Sweetheart,” he began, voice soft and relieved now he was offering some kind of stability. “Why didn’t you wait for me to get home? I’m tall enough to reach it without risking life and limb.”

You shrugged as you turned the bulb, looking down at him with a nonchalant smile. “Because I got it.”

No, you don’t, he thought inwardly, but he thought it would be better if he bit his tongue. Instead, he settled for resting his hands on your hips, ready to catch you in case the ladder decided to give way. 

“Whatever you say, dove,” he murmured as he watched your movements, his tone affectionate. He loved you wholeheartedly. Your independent nature was something that had drawn him to you in the first place and he wouldn’t change it for the world, even if it did give him the occasional heart attack. 

You twisted the new bulb in place, beaming down at him as the glow filled the room, clearly very pleased with yourself. “There!” You said, a triumphant grin on your lips. “All done.”

Remus let out a breath that he didn’t realise he was holding. “Brilliant,” he said, thrilled to get you off of the shaking death trap. “Now, if you don’t mind, let’s get you down before my heart gives out.”

His hands tightened around your waist as he lifted you down, hands steady as he made sure you were firmly placed on the ground. You turn around to face him, your face smug. 

“See?” You tell him, gesturing to the now-lit room. “Told you I could do it.”

He shook his head, brown hair falling over his forehead, his mouth turning into a soft smile. “Yes, darling, you did.” He placed a hand on the side of your head, pulling you forward slightly to press a soft kiss to your temple before pulling away. “But if you avoid giving me a panic attack next time, I’d be very grateful.”

“I try my best,” you say with a giggle, making him melt as the melodic sound fills the room. 

“Good,” he murmured, allowing his thumb to brush over your cheek absentmindedly. “Now, be extra good and make me a cup of tea whilst I pack up in here, hmm?”

“On it,” you say, flashing him an over-the-top grin as you spin on your heel, headed straight for the kitchen. 

He watched you practically skip out of the room, high on the idea of completing this mundane task yourself. He chuckled as he turned back to the ladder, folding it swiftly, the metal creaking under his hands. Picking it up in his arms and about to head towards the storage cupboard when he heard it—a sharp thunk followed by a yelp of pain. 

It’s a wonder your toes are still on your feet at this point. 

“Bloody hell,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, putting the ladder down and sticking his head out of the bedroom doorway. “Everything alright, dove?” 

“Yep!” Your chipper voice came from somewhere deeper in the flat, a little bit breathless but nonetheless cheerful. “All good!”

“Of course you are,” he said to himself, letting out a sigh but certainly amused. He turned back to the ladder behind him, hauling it over his shoulder and descending down the hall, a fond smile forming on his face. God, he loves you.

As he puts the ladder away, making a mental note to get rid of it the next time the bin men come, he can’t help the chuckle that escapes his lips. You were a walking disaster sometimes, but hey, you were his walking disaster. He liked to be kept on his toes. 

Making his way to the kitchen, following the sound of your soft humming, he just stood for a while. Arms crossed over his chest as he admired you, feeling his heart swell, he felt content. 

He only hoped you wouldn’t burn yourself when pouring the water…

[lvnleah]

016. | first game

word count: 1.8k

find the masterlist here!

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May 18th 2024 | 7 weeks old.

“Look at you, little guy!” Leah cooed as she gently slipped the tiny jersey over Finley's head, careful not to upset him. “Your first time wearing your Arsenal shirt and it’s got Mumma’s number and name on the back!”

Finley gazed up at Leah, his big eyes wide with curiosity. It was then that it happened. Finley’s face lit up with a small, yet unmistakable smile.

“Did you see that?” Leah gasped. “He smiled!”

You quickly dropped a nappy from the spot in the bedroom where you were packing the nappy bag before running over to Leah’s side at the end of the bed.

“He did?” You smiled.

“Yes!” Leah replied, nodding her head. “I swear, he just smiled at me.”

Just then, Finley’s lips curled up into another sweet, deliberate smile. It was more pronounced this time, his eyes crinkling up as well as if he knew he was the centre of attention.

Leah’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh my god, he’s smiling again!”

You reached out and gently touched Finley’s tiny hand. “Look at you bubs! Look at that smile!”

Leah’s eyes were misty. “This is amazing. I think he’s already showing us how much he loves his new jersey.”

Finley’s small fingers curled around yours, and his smile seemed to grow even wider. “A true little gooner eh? And today is the perfect day for it!”

Today was the last game of the season and also Finley’s first time attending a match of Leah’s. She’d been back playing for a few weeks now and you both decided that it felt right to take Finley to the last game of the season.

So of course Leah had to dress Finley in the tiny Arsenal kit that you used to announce your pregnancy to her teammates.

You knew today was going to also be an emotional one. After seven years, Viv was leaving Arsenal. She’d always been a close friend of you and Leah but more recently over the past year, almost two, she’d become even closer to you both due to her dating your best friend Beth.

It was a goodbye you weren’t looking forward to.

Once Finley was dressed, you gathered his things and took them into the living room where Leah was waiting with him.

“Ready to go?” You asked, setting the diaper bag down on the kitchen island.

Leah nodded, placing Finley down and strapping him into it. "Almost. Just need to grab my shoes and put them on.”

As Leah busied herself putting her shoes on, you double-checked the diaper bag to make sure you had everything: extra nappies, wipes, a change of clothes, and bottles. Despite your best efforts to stay organised, the sheer volume of items needed for an outing with a newborn always seemed overwhelming.

Leah glanced at the clock. "We need to leave in fifteen minutes if we want to avoid the worst of the traffic."

You nodded, feeling a bit of anxiety. Getting out of the house on time with a baby was a new challenge you were still adjusting to. Finley, now nestled comfortably in his car seat, let out a small whimper.

"Okay, shoes are on," Leah announced. She then picked up Finley’s car seat and looked at you with a determined smile. "Let’s do this."

As you opened the door, you realised you’d forgotten your keys. "Hang on, I’ll be right back," you said, dashing back to the bedroom. You found them under the pile of clothes you had been sorting through earlier.

Back in the living room, Leah was gently rocking Finley, who had started to fuss again. "Shh, it’s okay, Bubba. We’re almost ready," she murmured soothingly.

You grabbed the bags and ushered Leah and Finley out the door. The sight of Leah carrying Finley in his tiny Arsenal kit filled you with a range of different emotions.

After securing Finley in the back seat, you climbed into the passenger seat and started the car. Leah settled in beside you, glancing back to check on Finley. “All set?” you asked, looking over at her.

Leah smiled and nodded. “All set. Let’s go show Finley what it means to be a Gooner.”

When you finally arrived, the stadium was already buzzing with energy. You found a parking spot and began the process of unloading everything. You strapped on the baby carrier, carefully placing Finley inside. He stirred but remained peacefully asleep, his tiny hands clutching the fabric of your shirt.

As you approached the entrance, you could see familiar faces in the reception area. Beth waved, her smile wide as she saw you approaching. “There’s my little nephew!” she called out, rushing over to greet you.

Leah beamed. “We’re here! All three of us, just about.”

Beth smiled, “Oh look at his little kit!” She cooed, peeking into the carrier, “His little frown, he’s so adorable.”

Amanda joined you and Leah just as you entered the reception area, her eyes lighting up at the sight of her grandson. “There’s my little Finley!” she exclaimed, leaning in to get a closer look at him in his Arsenal kit. “He’s getting so big already!”

Leah hugged her mum, “He smiled this morning, Mum. Twice!”

Amanda’s eyes widened with delight. “Did he? That’s wonderful! I can’t wait to see it myself.”

You turned to Beth, who had been standing nearby, watching the exchange with a fond smile. “How are you feeling about Viv’s last game?” you asked her, knowing she’d hardly played at Arsenal without Viv.

Beth’s smile faltered slightly. “It’s bittersweet, to be honest. I’m so proud of her and excited for her new adventure, but I’m going to miss her so much.”

Leah placed a comforting arm around Beth’s shoulder. “We’re all going to miss her, but she’s going to do great things. And you’ll still see each other every weekend, there’s no doubt about that!”

Beth nodded, her eyes misting over. “Yeah, I know. It’s just...It’s hard to see her go.”

Amanda wrapped an arm around Beth, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “Change is never easy, but it’s also a chance for new beginnings. And you’ll always have us and the other girls.”

Beth smiled gratefully. “I know I will.”

As you all stood in the reception area, you turned to see Viv walking towards you, her face lighting up as she spotted the group.

“There she is!” Leah called out, “The star of the day!”

Viv shyly grinned, “Look at this little guy!” She looked down to get a better look at Finley, who was still snoozing in the carrier. “First game and he’s already got the perfect kit.”

Beth laughed, playing with Finley’s little hand. “Yeah, he’s all ready to cheer on Auntie Viv.”

You said goodbye to Leah, Beth and Viv and made your way out to the stands with Amanda. The stadium was already buzzing with anticipation, the familiar Arsenal chants filling the air. You found your seats with Amanda, Kyra, Lia and a few of the others who weren’t playing as the team took to the pitch for warm-ups.

Amanda cooed over Finley, who was now awake, as she held him. “Look at you! A mini kit, just like your Mumma’s.”

Lia leaned over to look at Finley. She rested her head on your shoulder. “Aww, he’s so cute! Can I hold him?”

You nodded and carefully handed Finley over to Lia. “Of course. Just be gentle with him.”

Lia smiled, “Hey, little man! Are you ready to see Mumma play?” She gently rocked him.

You smiled, watching the interaction. “You look like a natural with him.”

As the players continued warming up, the excitement in the stadium grew. You could see Leah on the pitch, stretching and chatting with her teammates. She glanced over towards the stands, her eyes searching until she found you all. She waved quickly, her smile beaming.

The match soon started and the girls headed out, cheers ringing around. Lia handed Finley back to you who fell back to sleep in the baby carrier. They shook hands with the other team, you laughed at how Beth juggled carrying a baby and holding the hand of a toddler. By the seventeenth minute, Alessia had scored a goal assisted by Emily and another soon followed in the twenty-fourth.

The first half flew by quickly and before you knew it time was over and the girls were back on the pitch. The first twenty minutes went by quickly, and Arsenal were given a penalty which Kim ended up missing.

In the sixty-first minute, three changes were made and Viv was brought on. Kyra, Steph and Alessia left the pitch, hugging Viv tightly as Frida, Laia and Viv took their places.

Cheers and chants once again rang out around Meadow Park. You watched as Leah kicked the ball to Beth who then passed it perfectly to Viv, giving her the chance to score her last goal.

You stood up and cheered, quickly quietenting once Finley began to stir. The team gathered around, patting Viv on the head as she celebrated her goal. You swore you saw a tear slip down Leah’s face.

The last thirty minutes flew by and by the end, the girls had won 5-0. Once the final whistle blew, the girls gathered around Viv and hugged her. A guard of honour was formed and you headed down onto the pitch with Lia and a few of the others.

Leah was quick to take Finley into her arms as you stood on the opposite side beside Beth to comfort her. Sabs and Kaylan said their goodbyes and it was then Viv’s turn. Beth’s tears started once Viv locked eyes with her before walking down as she dropped her coat.

You wrapped an arm around her shoulder and placed a kiss on her temple as Steph hugged her other side. The fans sang Viv’s name as she recalled all of her time at Arsenal and said her thank you speech. She was presented with a shirt and a bouquet of flowers, your arms wrapped tightly around Beth as the tears continued.

Once it was over, everyone’s family headed onto the pitch and Viv and Leah made their way over to you. Viv squeezed Beth tightly, lifting her off of her feet as Leah passed Finley to you.

Beth and Viv held onto each other for a moment longer, both of them laughing through their tears. When Viv finally set Beth down, she turned to you and Leah, her eyes filled with tears.

She leaned in a tickled Finley’s stomach, “Did you enjoy your first game, little one?”

Finley smiled in response, making Beth and Viv laugh as you handed him over to Viv for a cuddle, “Oh look at that smile!” She cooed.

Leah wrapped her arms around your waist as Viv and Beth walked around the pitch with Finley for one final thank-you lap.

“I think we’ve done pretty well, eh?” Leah whispered in your ear, pressing a kiss behind it.

You nodded as you laughed, “Yeah I think we have. This is exactly how I imagined things last year.”

[screaminglygay]

third time is a charm, right? (part seven)

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader, wanda maximoff x fem!reader, natasha romanoff x wanda maximoff, carol danvers x fem!reader (platonic), past carol danvers x natasha romanoff

summary: being surrounded by beautiful women makes you dizzy and irracional, but that´s just part of the life, hm?

warnings: swearing, ankle injury, messy relationship, that´s all i think:)

word count: 3.3k

an: what can i say? comunication is hard and messy, especially in these situationships

(italica = your thoughts)

The next morning, your ankle is still swollen and painful. Every step you take sends a sharp reminder of the previous night's events. And the headache from drinking is not much of a helper either. As you sit on the couch, contemplating your next move, you remember the business card Carol handed you. Hesitating for a moment, you finally pick up your phone and dial her number.

Fuck it.

After a few rings, Carol answers, her voice warm and slightly curious. "Danvers speaking," her voice is firm.

"Hi, Carol. It’s me, (Y/N)," you say, feeling a bit embarrassed. "I, uh, I’m having trouble with my ankle. And you said to call you if anything… so I´m calling."

Carol's tone immediately shifts to one of concern. "Oh no, okay. Have you seen a doctor?"

You shake your head, even though she can’t see you. "No, I haven’t. I just thought it might get better on it´s own over night, but it hasn’t."

"Okay, don’t worry," Carol says reassuringly. "How about I´ll drive to yours and help you out? Or get you into the hospital?"

It doesn’t take long before you hear a knock on your door. You hobble over and open it to find Carol standing there with a warm smile, holding a small bag.

"Hi," you greet her, feeling a bit shy.

"Hey there," Carol replies, stepping inside. "I brought some supplies for your ankle. Let’s take a look." She is wearing a black lather jacket, it suits her pretty well. You on the other hand just in oversized shirt and some sweatpants... well it´s not an outfit of the century.

She helps you back to the couch and kneels down to examine your ankle, her touch gentle and careful. "This looks pretty bad. We should get some ice on it and keep it elevated. You really should see a doctor."

"I know," you admit. "I just… everything’s been a bit overwhelming and doctor on top of it is just not the cherry on top I´d like."

Carol looks up at you, her expression soft. "I get it. You’ve been through a lot. But it won´t magicaly heal on it´s own."

You nod, appreciating her concern. As she wraps your ankle with an ice pack and props it up on a cushion, you feel a sense of comfort in her presence. She moves around your apartment with ease, making sure you’re comfortable and fetching anything you need.

"So," Carol says, settling down beside you. "How are you feeling after everything that happened with Natasha and Wanda?"

You sigh, leaning back against the cushions. "I’m still processing it all. It’s hard to do it while hangover and minus one leg."

Carol chuckles. "It’s okay to feel hurt and confused. They put you in a tough spot. Literaly."

"Thanks," you say softly. "For being here. I didn’t expect you to help me like this."

Carol smiles. "What are friends for? Besides, I couldn’t leave you struggling on your own. And honestly, I kind of enjoy your company."

You laugh lightly, the first time you’ve felt a bit of joy since the fallout with Natasha and Wanda. "So we´re besties now?"

"You cried on my shoulder while being drunk, isn´t it a typical way of making girl friends?" Carol teases.

"That is a fair point, yeah." You laugh.

Carol chuckles. "How about I cook us some lunch? I make the perfect grilled cheese."

"That sounds great," you say, feeling your spirits lift.

As Carol moves to the kitchen, you watch her with a mix of gratitude and curiosity. There’s something about her that makes you feel safe and valued, a stark contrast to the tumultuous relationship with Natasha and Wanda.

"I uh… noticed you´re also a CEO," you speak up, breaking the comfortable silence.

Carol chuckles, glancing over her shoulder at you. "Yeah. It’s been quite a journey."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "How did you get into it?"

Carol turns back to the stove, flipping the sandwiches with practiced ease. " I started in the Air Force, actually. But after some… complications, I transitioned into the business world."

You nod, impressed. "That’s amazing. I can see why you and Natasha might have some… tension."

Carol laughs, shaking her head. "Yeah, you could say that. Natasha and I have a bit of a rivalry going on. She’s always been competitive, and I guess I pushed her buttons in ways she wasn’t used to."

"What do you mean?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Carol plates the grilled cheese sandwiches and brings them over to the table, sitting down across from you. "Natasha is used to being the best at everything she does. When I started making waves with my company, she didn’t take it too well. We’ve had our fair share of professional clashes."

You smile, finding comfort in her honesty. "Has it always been this way?"

"Pretty much. When we were together, the rivalry was more playful. But after we broke up, it became more serious. She’s always been a bit salty about my successes, and I can’t say I haven’t enjoyed getting under her skin a bit." Carol asnwers.

You take a bite of the grilled cheese, savoring the warmth and flavor. "Sounds like it keeps you on your toes."

Carol nods. "It does. But honestly, I think we both thrive on it. It’s like a game we’re both determined to win."

You chew thoughtfully, feeling a bit more connected to Carol through her stories. "It must be exhausting, though. Always competing."

Carol leans back, her expression softening. "It can be. But it’s also what drives me. There’s a lot of professional pride involved. We’re both in industries where being at the top means everything. Natasha doesn’t like losing, and I’m not one to back down."

You smile, appreciating her honesty. "Like I´ve said… exhausting."

"Yeah, you get used to it after some time," Carol admits.

After finishing lunch, Carol insists on taking you to the hospital to get your ankle checked out. Reluctantly, you agree, knowing she’s right. The drive is filled with light conversation, Carol keeping your mind off the pain and the events of the previous night. Once at the hospital, a doctor examines your ankle, taking an X-ray to ensure there are no fractures.

Thankfully, it's not broken or badly sprained. The doctor advises you to rest for at least a week, keeping your ankle elevated and iced to reduce the swelling. As you leave with a wrapped ankle and a prescription for painkillers, you feel a wave of relief knowing it’s not serious. Carol stays by your side the entire time, making sure you’re comfortable and reassuring you that everything will be okay.

As you make your phone call to work, Carol drives back into your place in silence. Your boss is completly okay with you taking a break and she just wishes you to be okay soon. Carol smiles as she glance at you, "all good?"

You nod, "yeah, thanfully all good."

An hour later, you're both lounging on the couch, chatting about everything and nothing, when there's a sudden knock on the door.

You pause, feeling a flicker of anxiety. Carol notices your hesitation and gives you a questioning look. "Expecting anyone?"

You shake your head, pushing yourself up with a wince and hobbling to the door. Peering through the peephole, your heart skips a beat as you recognize the familiar faces of Natasha and Wanda standing on the other side.

"It's them," you whisper, more to yourself than to Carol.

Carol stands up, her expression turning serious. "What do you want to do? Do you want to talk to them?"

You hesitate, your mind racing. Part of you wants to hear them out, but another part remembers the hurt and betrayal. Finally, you take a deep breath and decide. "I guess I should see what they want."

With Carol staying in the living room, you open the door slightly, keeping the chain lock in place. "What do you want?" you ask, your voice steady but guarded.

Wanda looks at you with concern. "We just wanted to make sure you're okay," she says softly.

"I'm fine," you reply curtly. "I went to the hospital. They said it’s just a sprain."

Both Natasha and Wanda’s eyes widen in alarm. "You went to the hospital?" Natasha asks, a protective edge in her voice. "Did you drive there?!"

"I hurt my ankle," you respond, not wanting to get into details. "It´s not like I was hit by a car."

Wanda’s brow furrows in worry. "Why didn't you call us? We could have helped. Drive you there or something…"

You sigh, feeling the weight of their concern. "I didn't wanted to bother, given everything."

Natasha looks genuinely hurt. "We care about you. Despite everything, we do care."

You feel a mix of emotions, wanting to believe them but still wary. "I appreciate your concern, but I have someone helping me."

At that moment, Carol, having overheard the conversation, steps into view. "Hey, everything okay here?"

Natasha and Wanda’s eyes widen in surprise at seeing Carol. "Carol?" Natasha asks, a mix of shock and confusion in her voice. "What are you doing here?"

Carol crosses her arms, her expression calm but firm. "I'm helping out a friend."

Natasha narrows her eyes slightly, a hint of tension in her voice. "Of course, it’s you, Danvers. Always showing up where you're least expected."

Wanda, sensing the rising tension, gently places a hand on Natasha’s arm to calm her. "Nat, please," she says softly before turning back to you. "We are glad someone is helping you."

You look at Wanda, knowing she meant her words, you give her a small smile.

Natasha looks at you, her eyes softening a bit despite the tension. "We just want to make sure you're okay, (Y/N). That's all."

You nod, feeling a bit overwhelmed. "I know. But right now, I need some space. Please understand that."

Wanda bites her lip, looking like she wants to say more but nodding instead. "Okay. We’ll give you space. But if you need anything, we’re here."

Natasha adds, "Take care of yourself." And looks at Carol, "Danvers," she nods.

Carol just nods, she doesn´t say anything else.

You close the door softly, leaning against it as you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, "god."

Carol steps closer, giving you a reassuring smile. "You handled that well."

"Thanks," you reply, feeling relieved.

...

As the days pass, your ankle gradually heals, and you find yourself less reliant on Carol's physical help. However, the friendship that blossomed during your recovery continues to thrive. You and Carol text each other regularly, sharing updates about your lives, funny anecdotes, and supportive messages. Despite the pain caused by Natasha and Wanda, Carol’s presence has been a comforting and grounding force.

One evening, as you sit on your couch scrolling through your phone, you feel a wave of nostalgia and longing. Memories of the good times with Natasha and Wanda resurface, the emotions, the feelings, the touches… You hover over their contacts, unsure of what to do. Finally, with a deep breath, you decide to reach out.

Your fingers fly over the keyboard, debating between Natasha and Wanda. After a moment of indecision, you choose Wanda, her gentle nature feeling slightly less intimidating.

You: Hi, Wanda. How are you doing?

You hit send before you can overthink it. A few moments later, your phone buzzes with a response.

Wanda: Hey! I’m doing okay. How about you? How’s your ankle?

A smile tugs at your lips. Despite everything, it feels nice to hear from her.

You: It’s much better now, thanks. I’m getting back to normal, slowly but surely.

Wanda: I’m glad to hear that. We’ve been worried about you.

You: Really?

They been thinking about me… that feels nice.

Wanda: Of course. You’re important to us, even if we didn’t show it well.

You pause, feeling a mixture of emotions. It's comforting to know they care, but the hurt is still there, how could you be so stupid to think you can do only sex? You´re the person who can catch feeling even when someone will hold the door for you.

You: I appreciate that. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.

Wanda: About us?

You: Yeah. I miss you both, but I’m still hurt. What Natasha said really got to me. I know what we agreed on, but that doesn´t mean it wasn´t painful.

There's a pause, and you can almost feel Wanda's regret through the screen.

Wanda: I understand. Natasha feels terrible about it. She doesn’t always handle her emotions well.

You: I get that. I just… I don’t know where we stand anymore.

Wanda: Can we talk? In person, I mean. It might be easier. All of us.

You hesitate, the fear of getting hurt again battling with the desire to mend things.

You: Can you come to mine tomorrow then?

Wanda: Is 3PM okay for you?

You: It is.

Wanda: Perfect!

You put your phone down, feeling a mix of anxiety and anticipation. Before you go to bed, you send a quick text to Carol about your conversation with Wanda, she wishes you a good luck and you have a feeling of hope, feeling that everything will be okay. You will talk like a grownups… that´s great right? Something you were always so perfect about and defiently not going quiet, when there was something you didn´t like.

It´s gonna be just fine.

...

The next day, the clock seems to tick by more slowly than usual. You try to tidy up your apartment, trying to keep busy to calm your nerves. By the time 3PM approaches, you feel a knot of anxiety in your stomach. You hear a knock at the door and take a deep breath before walking over.

Peeking through the peephole, you see Wanda and Natasha standing there. Wanda in her flower dress looks hopeful, while Natasha appears a bit more stoic, though you can see the concern in her eyes.

You open the door slightly, enough to see them but still feeling cautious. "Hey," you say softly.

"Hey," Wanda responds with a small smile. "Can we come in?"

You hop back, opening the door wider to let them in. As they enter, they both notice the slight limp in your step.

Natasha's eyes narrow with concern. "Is your ankle still hurting?"

"It's better," you say, avoiding their gazes. "I can walk, I just look like an idiot, while doing so." You chuckle, trying to ease the situation.

Natasha's face hardens. "But you´re still in pain?"

"I´m okay, nothing I can´t take." You assure them.

Wanda nods, "can we help you right now in any way?"

You slowly walk to the couch and shake your head. "No, not really. But feel free to take whatever you´d like, coffee, water…"

Natasha nods and makes a coffee for herself, while she takes a juice for you and Wanda.

You sit down, feeling the weight of their presence. "So…?"

Wanda sits across from you, her eyes soft and pleading. "We´re sorry. For everything. Natasha and I… we handled things poorly."

Natasha nods, her expression serious. "We never meant to hurt you. What I said… it was wrong, and I regret it."

You look between them, feeling the sincerity in their words. "You don´t need to apologize milion times, you know."

Wanda shakes her head. "We do. We care about you, deeply. We just didn’t know how to handle our own emotions. And we… well screw it up."

Natasha takes a deep breath. "We want to make things right. If you’re willing to give us another chance."

You sit back, contemplating their words. "Do you think I would let you in here, if I didn´t think about giving you a second chance?"

Both Wanda and Natasha look taken aback, their eyes widening in surprise.

Wanda’s gaze softens, a glimmer of hope appearing. "You’re… you’re willing to give us another chance?"

"I am doing that right now, or… that wasn´t obvious? Gosh we are really shitty at comunicating… all of us." You chuckle, making the two ladies laugh as well.

Wanda smiles, "good to know, okay."

Natasha looks down, her fingers playing with the edge of her sleeve. “We’ve had issues with communication in the past, too. I can see now that it kinda affected us… me.”

You nod, taking a deep breath. “I also need to admit that I misread the situation. Even after we set terms, I hoped for something more. I thought maybe…”

Wanda reaches out to touch your hand. “We should have been clearer. But you also need to understand that we weren’t completely upfront either.”

Natasha’s expression turns serious. “The truth is, you’re not the first person we’ve been involved with. We’ve had others before you. And, honestly, it hasn’t always been great.”

You raise an eyebrow, curious, but also suprised that Natasha is openning up right now.

Natasha hesitates for a moment, then continues. “We’ve had partners who were… different from you. They were often rude, mean, and only interested in our money. They were possessive and only saw us for what we could provide, not who we are.”

Wanda adds, “That’s why we were so cautious with you. We didn’t want to fall into the same patterns, but in doing so, we ended up hurting you instead. Basically did the thing we were so worried about.”

Natasha looks at you, her eyes filled with regret. “I freaked out because I didn’t want you to be like them. I was afraid of repeating the mistakes we made before. And when you showed up in the office, I just… lost it completly.”

You absorb their words, feeling a mix of empathy and frustration. “Alright, I understand, but… we all have our baggage, and it’s up to us to work through it together.”

Wanda’s eyes soften. “You’re right. We need to be more open and honest about our feelings and our pasts. And we need to listen to you, too.”

Natasha nods, her expression is soft, not to firm as it was before.

You take a deep breath, feeling a bit more at ease. “I appreciate your honesty. I’m willing to work on this with you."

Wanda smiles gently. “Thank you for being willing to try. We’ll do our best to show you that we can be different.”

Natasha adds, “We’ll start by being more transparent and communicating better. That’s a promise. How about we start again?" She exhales.

"You saw me naked, I don´t think we can start again." You chuckle, while your cheeks heat up.

Wanda giggles, "then how about we go on a date, proper one? Tomorrow?"

A proper date? Hold on… so it´s not a just sex anymore. I´m confused.

Both women can notice your puzzled face and Wanda takes your hand in hers, "proper date as… we would like to try this," her hand squeezes yours, "to be more than just a sex."

Oh shit. Nice. Cool. Okay. Calm down. It´s fine. All good.

"If you don´t have plans with Davnvers, of course." Natasha speaks up, you can hear the slight jealousy in her voice. Which makes the younger woman roll her eyes at her girlfriend.

"I don´t no," you shake your head. “Tomorrow works perfectly fine for me.” You agree enthusiastically, feeling a surge of happiness at the thought of a proper date.

Nat smirks, "perfect."

"So we will pick you up at… 7PM?" Wanda smiles.

You nod, trying to ease the exitement.

With a final exchange of smiles and assurances, Wanda and Natasha prepare to leave. They give you a warm hug and a gentle kiss on the cheek. As you close the door behind them you let out a squek of happiness and some kind of celebration dance? But your ankle reminds you, that dancing is not a good idea yet.

Maybe third time is really a charm!

Thank you so much for reading!!

taglist: @arualdcg, @beholdagaywriter, @snowdrop1026, @itsdoni, @newawakening9​, @aliherreraaa, @zzswiftyzz, @lesbiantothemoonandback, @maggieromanov

If you want to be added, just let me know!:) keep in mind you have to be 18+

[barcaatthemoon]

baller || kelsey plum x reader ||

Kelsey takes you out after a game.

Kelsey made a beeline for the locker room at the sound of the final buzzer. You stayed in your courtside seat as some of her teammates gathered around you. It was always a bit of a party whenever you managed to find time to come to Kelsey's games. She swore that she played better whenever you were in the stands, something that her teammates all also agreed with. Personally, you thought Kelsey played great whether you were there or not, but you'd accept all of the extra love you got from it.

"I am sorry to delay your post-game kiss. Hopefully Becky was good company." Kelsey was panted slightly as she spoke to you. The huddle of girls around you had kept you from seeing her as she sprinted from the locker room over to where you'd been sitting.

"You say that, but I still haven't been kissed yet," you teased. Kelsey pushed past everybody to get to you. Once she was close enough, Kelsey cupped your cheeks and pressed several quick kisses to your lips before ending it on a longer one. You broke the kiss as her teammates whooped and hollered at the two of you. "Take me home now please?"

"Hold on, not yet baby. I wanna take you out," Kelsey said. She helped you out of your seat and walked you out of the arena. After a win like that and with you on her arm, Kelsey felt like she was on top of the world. Nothing could knock her down a peg, not even your potential rejection of her wanting to take you out. "If you don't want to go out, that's okay. I didn't make reservations anywhere."

"Aren't you tired after all that?" Kelsey shook her head as she grabbed your hand to kiss the back of it. "Can I pay tonight or are you wanting to show off?"

"You know me baby, I gotta show off a little. I'd take you dress shopping if it wasn't so late," Kelsey told you. You cracked a smile at her, knowing that was true. She had once kept you out all day with a game, shopping trip, and extravagant dinner before ending it at the club with her girls. "Are you sure that's okay?"

"Absolutely fine by me," you told her. Kelsey bit her lip as she turned back to the wheel. You knew that she was playing a bit, but you didn't mind. Showing off meant more than just throwing around some money with Kelsey. She would do everything she could to make sure that you had a good time, and usually, that meant being a bit over the top with her flirting and jokes.

There were seemingly hundreds of flashy restaurants all over Vegas, but Kelsey knew what you liked. It was the kind of place where you had worked before you even moved here. A hidden gem among the locals, known mainly to the people who found themselves getting off work as all of the parties died down.

Both you and Kelsey were regulars here. The staff knew you both, although they saw Kelsey as an extension of you at times. It didn't matter if the woman came in on her own, which had only happened a couple of times, they'd send her on her way with your usual order. Neither one of you had to even look at a menu, the waitresses already knowing what you'd want.

"It's not the Ritz, but I need something good. I hope to have a long night ahead of myself," Kelsey said with a wink. You rolled your eyes at her, but didn't disagree. It was likely that you and Kelsey would be up all night as soon as you got back to her place. You didn't mind that, in fact, you were already having a hard time keeping your hands completely to yourself.

You loved the pre-game outfits and all, but there was something about Kelsey's lowkey post-game outfits that got you. You loved seeing her walk around in the practice shorts and Aces t-shirt that you knew you'd be wearing in the morning. You liked seeing Kelsey comfortable, and maybe, just maybe, you were relieved that she wasn't getting stared at by strangers.

"So, and you can totally say no to this, Chelsea found this big couples' retreat thing. They did it last year, but Darren didn't want to, so I went and coupled up with one of the single girls, which was fun. Anyway, I was thinking that it would be more fun if you came with this year, but you don't have to. I know that I already ask a lot with you coming to my games and shit…" Kelsey trailed off awkwardly. You smiled at her as you leaned across the table to kiss her cheek.

"I'd really like that. Just let me know when it is, and I'll make arrangements," you told her. Kelsey perked up at your agreement, having thought it would be harder to convince you.

The two of you left the restaurant shortly after that, not wanting to go home quite so early into the night. Kelsey knew that some of the girls on the team were planning on going out, but she wanted you all to herself. You had always loved the lights, so Kelsey drove up and down the strip a few times until you started to get very obviously tired.

"Can I carry you upstairs?" Kelsey asked as she pulled into her garage. You quirked an eyebrow at her, but the longer that you looked at her, the clearer it became that she wasn't joking. "Please?"

"Are you ever scared that people think you do too much for me?" you asked. Kelsey scoffed at your question. The idea that there would ever be 'too much' was ridiculous. Kelsey knew that you were going to be the person she grew old with, and if she could make any aspect of your life easier or better, then she was determined to do so.

"Never. I get teased every practice because everybody thinks I'm whipped, but I just love you. You do so much for me that nobody sees or knows about, and I don't think that I'll ever be able to make it up to you, so I try in other ways. I know that it looks like a lot, but it's not. You love me, and you let me love you. Besides, do you know how fucking cool I look running around with you on my arm in all those fancy ass clothes?" You could tell that Kelsey was nowhere near stopping, so you climbed over the center console and into her lap. Immediately, Kelsey got quiet and started to run her hands down your sides until she got to your ass.

"I love you too," you told her. Kelsey grinned into a kiss, much sweeter than any of the others you had shared that night. Kelsey didn't try to push it further, only just pulling away before you buried your head into her shoulder to hide your yawning.

"You're so cute when you're sleepy," Kelsey whispered as she took you out of the car. She carried you upstairs first, knowing that her basketball bag would stay in the car until the morning because she wasn't leaving your side all night.

[violent-darkness]

Stress Relief

Billy Butcher x You

Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, angst.

Summary: You struggle with your feelings for Butcher while he grapples with his own demons. The stress from trying to take down Homelander is weighing heavily on his shoulders. You desperately try to help him and ease his tension one way or another. Despite Butcher’s reluctance, you are determined to break through his defenses.

The obnoxious ringing echoed across the empty office space and startled you. You peeked at your phone screen: “Come to our bar now, some hot men are buying us drinks.” You chuckled. Back in the day, these types of texts from your bff would get you up and going in an instant. But lately, things have been a little different. You glanced at Butcher’s empty desk and let out a deep sigh. The made-up excuse was always work, but the truth was that ever since your drunk make-out session with him a few months ago, you didn’t really want anyone else. If only he were of the same opinion. The following day he gave you a whole speech about how it was a mistake and you deserved better. He’d been acting like nothing happened ever since. Although you regularly caught him staring at you, when he thought you weren’t watching, his gaze lingering with an intensity that made your heart race.

Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the man himself. Billy Butcher stormed in, his hurried footsteps pounding like a war drum. The sound reverberated through the empty office. He slammed the door behind him so hard that it almost came off its hinges.

You bit your lip, trying to gauge his mood. He barely seemed to notice your presence and headed straight to his desk. Grabbing a bottle of vodka from the cabinet, he gulped down several large swigs. He was panting heavily, eyes filled with rage. 

“Billy…” you uttered. This was the first time he actually looked at you. His gaze softened, but just for a moment, before his face twisted in anger again.

“Stay out of it,” he grunted as he headed for the door.

“Look, I know that you want to bring down Homelander more than anything. We all fucking do. But it’s starting to wear you down,” you confronted him. The truth was no one from the team really liked him. Everyone but you thought that he was an asshole. His increasing irritability and tension lately only bothered them because he was even more unbearable than usual. But you didn’t care about that. You could see right through his bullshit and knew that this was simply a mask, a little show he put on to keep people at a distance. You were desperately trying to break through and make him lower his guard.

But instead Butcher gave you a death stare. “I ain’t slowin' down until I put down the wanker,” he hissed at you.

“At least talk to someone… Talk to me. Let me help you,” you pleaded.

“Ain’t no way you can help me, luv.” He waved his hand dismissively and exited, leaving the air thick with unresolved feelings. 

You stared at his retreating figure, heart racing with frustration and worry amidst the eerily quiet office space. Why couldn’t he see that you wanted to help? Your mind raced, refusing to surrender. Butcher was the one who found you in that garbage of a life you had and offered you a chance on his team. He practically saved you and never once judged you for your past or the horrible things you’d done. You owed him big time and were determined to find a way to help him. You got up from your desk and started pacing across the room. Suddenly your eyes widened and a look of satisfaction crossed your face. If he was unwilling to talk, then perhaps there were other ways to reach him. The idea was good, but had the potential to end up as a complete disaster for you. You went to Butcher’s desk and grabbed the bottle of vodka. With what you were about to do, you needed all the support you could get. The heavy smell of alcohol made you wince, but you took a few gulps anyway before grabbing your jacket and walking out of the office.

His apartment was close by. You just hoped he would be there and not in some bar, drinking himself into oblivion. He opened the door on the third knock, just as you were about to give up. “Bloody hell, what are ya doin’ here?” His brows furrowed and he almost shut the door right back in your face, but you swiftly pushed him inside. Without giving him a second to think, you pressed your lips to his, your tongue seeking access to his mouth, which he willingly provided. It was a messy, passionate kiss, reflecting the unspoken desire you had for one another. But when the initial rush passed, Butcher came to his senses, grabbed you by the shoulders, and pulled you away. His brows arched as he gave you a long stare, still catching his breath. It wasn’t often that this man was left speechless, but you’d managed to do it. “We don’t have to talk, you know, we can just fuck. I can help you take the edge off,” you held his gaze and smirked at him, trying your best to put on a confident face. He made a long pause. You could see the internal struggle written all over his face. His eyes were filled with desire as he reached his hand toward your face, but stopped midway and let it fall back to his side.

“You should leave,” he finally muttered, averting his gaze. Your heart sunk into your stomach. Frustration surged as you tried to break through the concrete wall he was hiding behind. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t want me too. I’ve seen the way you look at me, when you think I am not watching.” Butcher clenched his jaw, still looking away. You noticed him tensing, fighting his internal demons. Silence. Complete and utter silence. A flush of redness crept up your neck. You suddenly felt like a complete fool, being so bluntly rejected by him. It was too much, even for you. “Fuck you, Billy,” you finally hissed at him and made a few steps towards the door, feeling completely embarrassed. “I’m only gonna ruin you, doll. You got no place around a cunt like me. Better stay away,” his voice was gruff, weighed down by unspoken truths. But for the first time there was a hint of vulnerability in it. You turned around to look at him. He was staring at the floor, looking so sad and broken that it made your heart ache. You closed the distance between the two of you and he didn’t object. “Don’t push me away, Billy,” you spoke softly, sincerely. “Haven’t you understood by now? I am not afraid of the real you. Never have been. On the contrary, I want you to show me the monster you claim to be.”

His eyes widened as he turned to look at you once again. You knelt before him and reached for the belt of his jeans. “Let me ease some of your tension. Make you forget about a shitty day in a shitty life. I want nothing more than that. Please, Billy, let me. Please, please, please, you need this so much. And I do too,” you begged him, putting yourself entirely at his mercy, fully aware how pathetic you sounded.

Butcher knew that you were too young and too good for him. He didn’t want to drag you down into the dirt with him. He wanted to stop you - to protect you from his chaos. He really did. But how could he? He was thinking about you constantly ever since you joined the team. You had occupied the deepest, darkest corners of his brain. The drunken hookup was a mistake he swore he would never repeat. But ever since then, it was the only thing he thought about when he touched himself. The way you were begging him now—so needy, so desperate for him—made him painfully hard. He had no strength left to continue fighting with himself.

Butcher tried to stop you. He really did. But instead he watched as you unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. The sheer sight of your small, gentle hand gripping his pulsating cock, made him go feral. At that moment he was completely gone. His fingers clenched your hair and pushed the whole length of his cock in your throat. You couldn’t breathe and started gagging, but Butcher didn’t care. He started controlling your movements, guiding your head back and forth across his length, shedding the tension from the bad day he’d had piece by piece. At some point he pulled out to look at your face - makeup all smeared and eyes teary. He really liked the sight of you in this condition. So dirty for him. It was a million times better than his fantasies.

 “You want to see the monster, huh?” Butcher teased, and you nodded enthusiastically, your cunt throbbing painfully for him.

“Are you sure you can take it? Such a fragile lil’ thing you are?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek. 

“Please, I can take it,” you whimpered, filled with longing, the intensity of your feelings evident in the quiver of your breath.

“So desperate,” Butcher snickered. The way you begged him made him want to do unspeakable things to you, to see how far he could go. Before you knew it, he spat in your face and dragged you by your hair across the floor, tossing you onto the bed like a sack of potatoes. “Spread your legs,” he ordered imperiously, placing his large hand on your throat. With the other he grabbed his cock, pressed the tip on your clit and started rubbing it. Waves of pleasure began spreading across your body. Amidst your intensifying moans, he pushed deep inside you with one harsh thrust, not giving you time to adjust to his size. Your moan turned into a scream. “Billy…” you winced.

“Tsk, tsk, you asked for this, luv,” he taunted, not bothering to temper his movements. Pretty soon, his steady rhythm combined with the slight pressure he applied on your throat transformed your pain into pleasure and you began purring in his ear. He felt so good, reaching all your sensitive spots, filling you up completely. His weight was pressing down on you, the heat of his body mixing with the distinct scent of musk and vodka. His hand, which was tightly curled around your throat, gave him full control over you. You were merely his stress relief, a tool he used. The pressure was gradually building up within you as you were nearing your climax. Butcher could sense that you were close, probably one or two thrusts away, when he stopped abruptly. This created a void inside you. You started squirming and whimpering, trying to pull him toward you, which only made him chuckle.

“You are not coming just yet,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“Please,” you begged and whimpered, but he paid no attention to your pleas as he turned you on your stomach and pinned your head on the bed. He gave you a hard slap on your butt, before shoving his cock deep inside you once again. His movements were fast and intensive, eager. The movements of someone who’d been needing a proper fuck for a long time. Every thrust washed away the tension that had built up over the past months, untying the knot in his stomach, making him forget all the dirt. And how could he not? In front of him was a fragile little thing with a perfect cunt, that basically begged him to snap her in two. You made him forget all his worries, because at this moment fucking you was the only thing that mattered in the world. You were a far better remedy than alcohol or any other drug he had ever tasted. 

He started rubbing your clit with consistent circular motions. The added pleasure was too much to handle, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm exploded inside you, turning you into a wreck - legs shaking uncontrollably, screams and whimpers. Seeing you break down on his cock like this was too much for Butcher. His thrusts became more intense, choppy. He followed you soon after and with a few final movements pumped his cum deep inside you, letting out a loud groan. The high from his orgasm acted like a veil, clouding all his worries. He lingered in that blissful moment, savoring the connection with you, trying to make it last as long as possible. After a while, he laid back on the bed, his legs trembling slightly, and pulled you into his embrace.

“You feeling better?” you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, after a long moment of silence filled only with your shared panting.

“Fuckin’ hell, you really are somethin’.” For the first time in months, you saw a genuine smile on Butcher’s lips as he pressed a kiss to your temple.

[runariya]

Part 2 of this | shout out to @sleepingzzzimp who made this happen lol part of the prompt game pairing: vampire!Jungkook x f!reader genre: vampire!AU, yandere, dark romance warnings: compulsion and being held captive, obsessive and possessive JK, OC’s rather…special in regards of what JK did to her, allusion to dubcon/noncon, blood drinking, foul language, explicit sexual content, smut, OC’s ovulating, oral (m. receiving), ‘good girl’, a lot of saliva, deep throating, size difference, a lil bit of fingering, doggy, unprotected seggs, a lil bit of aftercare, a lil bit of fluff, lmk if I forgot smth pls word count: 2.573

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Jungkook didn’t think much further than keeping you by his side, using you not only as his personal blood bag but also as a warm, perfectly suited pleasure-giver for his dead soul. It’s not like you have much of a choice, with the compulsion firmly in place to stop your fragile self from doing anything that might harm your mortal, precious life.

He knows, though, that even under compulsion, humans tend to remain aware of what’s going on. He’s seen that subtle flicker of consciousness more times than he can count. But with you, he never finds resentment, hatred, or sadness—none of the things he might expect, even when he himself would admit he’s gone too far.

It’s impressive, really, and makes it all the more fun and fulfilling to have you around. You’re like the perfect doll, tailor-made just for him. Amazing.

Weeks have passed—maybe months? Jungkook doesn’t know anymore, nor does he care to keep track of mortal time. What he does know is that a routine has formed. And part of that routine is watching you make breakfast in the old kitchen of his mansion. Because despite everything, you’re still human, and you need nutrition to keep being his personal supply.

Jungkook’s noticed for days now that something about you has changed, though he’s not entirely sure what it is. It’s like the compulsion has worn off, not working on you the way it used to. But that shouldn’t be possible. At least, not in his understanding of things.

Sometimes, as he watches you humming around the kitchen, occasionally singing along to the crackling radio on the top shelf, he daydreams of you being here by choice, not because of compulsion. It must be nice, he thinks, to have someone who loves him.

Could he even love? If it was with you, he might try. Or maybe this possessiveness is love, the only kind he’s capable of feeling.

Like every morning, Jungkook sits at the nearby table, watching you prepare a high-protein breakfast, as if you’re willingly keeping yourself strong for him. Then, it happens. Your eyes meet his, and for the first time, they’re crystal clear, fully conscious, without any trace of the haze he’s used to see in them.

His face would go pale if he weren’t already deadly white. Carefully, he stands up, every sense on high alert. The kitchen knives are just within your reach, which he’s absolutely not a fan of. 

“What’s wrong, Kook?” Your voice is soft, melodic, and he can’t tell if you’re playing games or if he’s dreaming.

“You tell me.”

“I’m fine. But you’re not. You’re scaring me, Kook.”

He knows why you’re scared. He’s never acted this wary with you before, never approached you like you might be his literal downfall. But he can’t help it. Even though he knows you can’t really harm him, he refuses to let his guard down.

“I know the compulsion’s worn off. Stop pretending.” His voice is dangerously cold, stepping closer, eyes flicking between you and every potential threat—the knives, the hot pan, even the salt that could burn his eyes.

“I’m not pretending, I know it’s worn off.” You smile up at him, brighter than ever, like you’re happy to be free—though not from him, specifically.

“And why aren’t you running? Or fighting?”

Jungkook doesn’t want to indulge in some fantasy where you’ve magically fallen in love with your captor. But despite his caution, your words make him feel something—a fuzziness he hasn’t felt in centuries.

“Why would I?” You sigh, turning off the stove and setting down the spatula. “Jungkook, you’ve treated me well. It’s not like I would—”

“Cut the bullshit. I know you’re lying.”

“But I’m not, Kook. There’s no one out there waiting for me. And if there is, they’re only out to hurt me.”

Your eyes are glassy now, almost pleading, and he’s not sure what to make of it.

“And now, you’ve suddenly fallen in love with the one person who��s used you in every evil way imaginable?”

“It was never evil, and you know it.”

Your confidence throws him off. He’s always seen himself as the monster he is. He’s used your body, fed off you—blood and arousal—without ever asking for consent. How could that not be evil?

“But it was.”

You purse your lips, shaking your head disapprovingly as you turn back to the stove, reigniting it to finish your breakfast.

“It wasn’t. Did I give you permission for all that? No. Would I have if you’d asked? Probably not. But—”

“See!”

“I’m talking now. Shut up.” You point the spatula at him, and it’s so cute that he genuinely smiles for the first time in what feels like forever. “All I’m saying is, even though your ways are… unorthodox, you were never harsh with me. It never hurt, and I could feel how much you cared for my wellbeing.”

A silence falls between you, and Jungkook isn’t sure what to say. You’re sort of right. He never wanted to truly break you. He wanted to keep you safe, keep you useful for as long as possible. You’re too precious to waste.

“All I’m saying is, now that I’m fully conscious and making my own choices, I’d rather stay with you than go back to the humans.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Oh, I can tell.” You giggle, and despite himself, despite every reason not to, Jungkook chuckles too.

“Eat up. You’ll need it.”

Jungkook turns to leave, still processing, his mind racing. He needs time to figure out what to do next.

“Can’t wait,” you call after him, your tone teasing, and he’s pretty sure that if he could blush, he would.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

There’s no way in hell he’s able to figure you out. No. Way. Why are you all smiles and happiness, sitting like always on his giant bed, offering your neck to him like you always did?

He’s standing a good distance away, arms crossed over his sturdy chest, head tilted to the side. It’s not like he isn’t hungry—he’s starving, actually—because he’s never had his full fill of your blood, always making sure you’re alright after, leaving his hunger partially satisfied but never completely.

Saliva is collecting relentlessly in his mouth, his fangs protruding without much effort. Yet, he can’t make a move. What if it’s a trap? What if there’s a hidden dagger in your clothes, something that’ll kill him?

Should he just make you leave and find someone new? But he doesn’t want to. You’re just too sweet, too perfect for him to resist.

“Strip bare,” he commands, and the words alone make your thighs rub together as you immediately comply. Odd. 

You waste no time, each piece of clothing falling soundlessly to the floor, your nipples hardening in the cold.

“Turn around.”

You do. And he finds no threat on you. Odd again.

“Sit.”

You comply again, and he’s kind of aroused by your eager obedience. It’s refreshing, and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to resist you if this keeps up—willingly walking into whatever doom you might be for him.

But still, he’s unable to move, even though the pulse of your neck is tempting him beyond reason.

“Kook,” you mewl softly, and he’s gone. Jungkook’s gone in the sweetness of you. He lets his arms fall, strides towards you, and practically tackles you to the bed, licking and breathing against your neck.

“So good,” he murmurs, saliva dripping from his lips onto your skin as you grind your hips against him. He’s not sure why you’re this eager—he hasn’t bitten you yet, so his bite’s usual effect can’t be coursing through your blood making you horny.

“Why so eager?” he muses, grazing his fangs along your artery.

“Ovulating,” you moan, your hands threading through his hair.

“Hmmm… I can smell it on you.” The intoxicating scent of your body wraps around him like a vice, and he can’t resist any longer. “Gonna make you feel good, doll.”

You only moan his name as Jungkook finally sinks his fangs into your delicate skin, your blood flooding his mouth, his entire being. It makes him feel high, high in a way that tells him he’ll never want anything or anyone else. He’s addicted to you.

Jungkook feels your arousal intensify, your dopamine and oxytocin levels skyrocketing as your juices drip from your perfect little hole, soaking his clothed thigh with a dark wetness.

“Yes, Kook, need more, please.”

Jungkook pulls back in surprise, the confirmation so new he’s unsure if he heard you right. But you grab his head, pushing him back to your neck while your other hand fumbles with his chest, trailing down to his abs.

“Please, Kook. I’ve been a good girl. Please.”

Jungkook feels like he’s in heaven—a demon allowed into paradise. He’s fully sated, despite not drinking much of your blood. He reckons it’s the awareness in you that magnifies the effect.

He licks the wound on your neck to help it heal, then leans back on his knees, admiring your flustered, tiny frame. You’re looking up at him with sparkly eyes, lips parted, neck still smeared with your blood—you’re a vision he’ll never get sick off.

“You’ve been a good girl?” There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing you this keen, and he plans to savour it.

“Yes, a good girl for you. Always for you.”

As Jungkook stands to strip off his own clothes, you’re watching him for the first time, drinking him in rather than lying there passively.

“Sit up. Open up.”

Obedient as ever, you do as told, opening your pretty mouth and sticking out your tongue, waiting impatiently.

Jungkook pumps his cold, rock-hard cock a few times, marvelling at the sight of you. He runs his thumb over his glans for an extra kick. And though he knows you can somehow take him, he’s always impressed by the sheer size difference. But you’re a good girl, letting him in, suppressing the gag as he hits the back of your throat, muscles pulsing violently around him.

A primal moan escapes his lips as his head falls back, savouring every second of you sucking him off like your life depends on it. He can’t help but thrust into your throat, his pace increasing with every push as you grab his hips to take him deeper, moaning around his cock. Your saliva drips down your chin, your eyes, aware, locking onto his as if to reassure him to give you all he's got. 

He doesn’t hold back after that, pushing his hips flush against your face, your nose pressed into him until you can’t breathe anymore as he lets go, shooting his load down your throat. He stays there a moment longer, riding out his orgasm before pulling back.

It’s pleasing to see that, even though you haven’t climaxed yet, your skin glows ever so lovingly.

“You good?”

You’re still catching your breath, but the smile on your face disarms Jungkook completely. “Yes, of course.”

For some reason, his heart swells at your words and at the person you are, someone he hadn’t truly seen until now.

A trail of arousal drips down his sheets, ending in a pool on the floor, which he hadn’t noticed before. The sight reignites his hunger as he flips you over, pushing your face into the bed and kneeling between your legs.

“Should I reward you?” Jungkook runs his fingers over your cunt, circling your entrance before moving to your clit, giving it a few rough pets.

All you can do is moan into the sheets, your hips pushing back desperately.

Jungkook always thought you were perfect, made for him—the reason he captured you all that time ago—but seeing you now, more perfect and conscious than you ever were, is something else entirely. He loves it. He loves you. And he doesn’t care if it’s possible or not—he’s never felt like this before, and he’ll move heaven and earth to keep it that way.

“I think you’ve been such a good girl, you deserve the big reward, don’t you?” Jungkook drags his fangs down your ass, ending at your inner thigh before sinking them into your soft skin for a little sip, your arousal adding a tantalising spice.

“Yes, Kook, been so good for you,” you pant, and that’s all he needs to reward you properly as he gets to his feet after licking the bite closed, lining his still-hard cock up with your weeping cunt.

It’s a tight fit, so tight he feels like he might pass out, his vision doubling and tripling as your pulsing walls grip him mercilessly. “My beautiful doll, my beautiful, beautiful doll.”

Jungkook can’t stop praising you with every word he knows. You’re perfect, moaning, drooling, and pushing back against his hips just for him.

“You’re mine, doll.” He sets a brutal pace, needing the confirmation that no compulsion is required for you to want this as much as he does.

“Yours, Kook. Always,” you cry, fists clutching the sheets as you push back even more desperately.

“Fucking right, mine.”

Jungkook grabs your hair without slowing down, pulling you up against his chest while his other arm holds you steady not to collapse right back to the bed. 

“Never gonna let you leave.”

“Don’t want to,” you moan, your glassy, love-drunk eyes locking onto his red ones.

“Never gonna stop fucking you.”

Your swollen, parted lips scream to be kissed.

“Never gonna want anybody else,” Jungkook confesses between pants, knowing and accepting there’s no turning back for either of you.

For the first time since he captured you, you kiss him back, sucking his tongue like you’ve been starved. It’s as if all this time, you’ve wanted to reciprocate, to give, not just receive.

And despite still tasting his cum on your tongue, there’s a newfound sweetness, making him wish the compulsion had worn off sooner.

“Kook, I’m close.”

He doesn’t need your words—he can feel it in your pulsing heat, your quickening heartbeat.

“Come for me, doll. Show me how much you want this.”

You scream his name as he fucks you through your orgasm, your walls clamping down on his cold cock. He doesn’t mind, wanting to feel every contraction, hear every scream, taste every rush of blood in your body.

His own orgasm builds, and he lets himself go, chanting your name as his thrusts grow irregular until he paints your walls bright white.

You both remain like that, catching your breath, though only your heart beats violently, only you are drenched in sweat, only you truly spent.

Jungkook eventually pulls out, cleaning you up with tissues from the nightstand, all while you watch, glowing ever so ethereal in your afterglow.

As Jungkook reaches for your clothes to dress you as he always does, you stop him with a hand on his tattooed arm. The boyish look he gives you is oddly endearing, and he senses you’re gathering all your confidence for your next words.

“Please don’t send me away.”

Your honesty hits him hard, and he straightens, realising he’s truly hit the jackpot with you.

“I won’t,” Jungkook promises, and with that, you leap around his neck, legs wrapping around his tiny waist, thanking him over and over as if he's you're knight in shining armour.

[luviwon]

FLOWERS OVER EXES — k.sn

❀ in which kim sunoo makes up for your ex boyfriend's miserable behaviour and gets you flowers to bring up your mood. but he doesn't stop there and brings you to heaven too. ❀ a combination of angst, fluff and vanilla smut is this a thing? (who could not fall for romantic sunoo i am actually on the floor now someone rescue me) ❀ in the mood for something sad but sweet and passionate as well so there you go ❀ for whoever doesn't want to read the smut part, i will put a small warning before the start of that so read worriless. as for my horny readers, you can just jump down there to avoid all the tear-causing scenes.

"leave, then. i don't need you anymore"

his words were just as a sharp arrow, splitting your heart into two. you did not dare to confront him anymore, not after everything that has happened. looking at him in the eyes one more time, you felt a burning tear painting your face. it was not worth crying for this pathetic man, but you couldn't help yourself. everything you have shared together was still there somehow, and despite his wrong doings, you still kept thinking about the good times.

you had to control yourself, though, and acknowledge what a piece of trash he was. and that there was no better decision than to stand up and leave as he said. you did not need him anymore either.

"i'll send someone to get my things by the end of this week"

he just nodded, turning his back to you and going on his phone. is this the lowest respect he has left for you? you opened your mouth sligthly, ready to criticise him and tell him one final thing before leaving forever, but you stopped yourself. you were more than that and should not lower yourself to his level.

without further goodbyes, you left your ex boyfriend house and walked down the steps, holding your tears back still.

you kept your head down as you walked through the streets, trying to ignore the tightening in your chest. the cool evening air nipped at your skin, but it wasn’t enough to numb the ache growing inside you. each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of everything pressing down like an anchor.

you didn’t want to cry. not here. not now.

the sidewalk was quiet, just the occasional hum of a car passing by, but even in the stillness, your thoughts screamed louder. you had done the right thing. you had to believe that. but it didn’t feel like it. each memory flashed in your mind like cruel reminders—the laughter, the stolen glances, the small moments that felt too perfect to be real. and maybe they never were.

your eyes burned, but you blinked the tears away. you couldn’t fall apart now, not in the middle of the street where anyone could see.

as the familiar path towards the han river stretched out in front of you, your phone buzzed in your pocket. you hesitated for a moment, thumb hovering over the screen, before pressing call. you needed to hear a voice, something to ground you, to remind you that you weren’t completely alone.

"hello?" sunoo’s voice was soft, and for a second, you could almost pretend nothing was wrong. almost.

“hey…” your voice came out shakier than you wanted, and you bit your lip, trying to steady it.

"you okay?" he asked, instantly picking up on the tremor. his concern wrapped around you like a blanket, but it only made it harder to keep your composure.

you swallowed hard, fingers curling tightly around your phone. "i’m fine. just needed to… hear someone."

there was a pause, the kind that made you wonder if he was trying to find the right words or if he already knew. “what did he do again?”

his question hit like a punch to the gut, and before you could stop it, a sob broke through your chest, loud and raw, spilling out into the night air. you clamped your hand over your mouth, as if that would stop the rest from coming, but it was too late.

sunoo’s voice immediately softened, "hey, hey… it's okay. i’m here. talk to me."

you tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. your legs felt weak, and you had to stop, leaning against a lamppost to steady yourself. everything felt too much—too loud, too painful, too real.

"where are you?" sunoo asked gently. you could hear the worry creeping into his voice, but he wasn’t pushing you. he never did.

you wiped at your cheeks, hating the way your breath kept catching in your throat. "the bridge," you whispered. "i’m going to the han river bridge."

“okay, stay there. i’m coming to you, alright?” he was already moving, you could hear it in his voice, the rush of footsteps in the background. "just hold on."

you nodded even though he couldn’t see. "i’m sorry," you managed to say, voice breaking again. you didn’t even know what you were apologizing for—maybe for calling him, for crying like this, for not being stronger.

"don’t be sorry," sunoo said softly. "you don’t have to do this alone. i’m almost there."

you lowered the phone and took a deep breath, staring out at the darkening sky. the han river was just ahead, the faint shimmer of water in the distance. you’d been here so many times before, but tonight it felt different—like everything had changed. like you had changed.

you stood by the railing of the bridge, eyes unfocused as you stared out at the water. the river moved slowly beneath the soft glow of the streetlights, but your mind was far from the calm that surrounded you. it kept pulling you back—back to him, to his words, to the way everything seemed to fall apart in such a quiet, brutal way.

people walked past, some alone, some in pairs, their footsteps light against the pavement. you could feel their glances, brief but piercing, as if they could see through you, as if they knew. you shifted your weight, trying to make yourself smaller, to hide the mess you felt like, but it only made the knot in your chest tighter. your face was still warm and damp from crying, and you wiped at it quickly, telling yourself to get it together.

“come on,” you muttered under your breath, taking in a shaky breath. “be strong. you have to be strong.”

but the words felt hollow, like they were just something to say because you didn’t know how else to pull yourself out of this. everything hurt, and even though you told yourself over and over again that you were fine, that you were better off without him, it didn’t stop the ache from settling deeper.

you closed your eyes, leaning forward on the railing, letting the cool wind brush against your skin. maybe, just for a moment, you could let yourself fall apart. no one would notice, right? no one would—

and then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw it—something familiar. you turned your head slowly, gaze catching on a figure walking towards you. the first thing you noticed was the coat—black and slightly oversized, the one you’d seen so many times before. the way it hung loosely on his frame, sleeves too long for his delicate hands. then the hair, that familiar mess of dark strands that somehow always looked perfect in its disarray.

sunoo.

he wasn’t rushing, but his steps had a purpose, his eyes already locked on you. and for a second, everything around you seemed to blur. there was something comforting in his presence, something that made your heart ache a little less, even though you hadn’t said a word yet. but then, as he got closer, you noticed something else—something unfamiliar.

in his hand, he was holding a small bouquet of flowers, wrapped carefully in soft blue paper. delicate, pale blue peonies peeked out from the wrapping, their soft petals almost glowing in the dim light of the streetlamps. you blinked, caught off guard by the sight. despite the familiar comfort of seeing him, there was something so unexpected, so tender, in the way he held them.

sunoo reached you, his breath a little uneven from the walk, but his expression was calm, his eyes soft as he looked at you. he said nothing at first, just standing there with you, offering his presence like an anchor. but it was the flowers that kept drawing your gaze.

“you okay?” he asked, voice low and gentle, like he didn’t want to break whatever fragile moment this was.

you opened your mouth to speak, but the words tangled in your throat. instead, you shook your head, unable to stop the tears from welling up again.

sunoo didn’t waste a second. as soon as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes again, he gently placed the bouquet down on the ground and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around you in a way that felt so natural, like he’d been waiting for this moment to be there for you. his embrace was firm but soft, and before you could think, your face was pressed against his chest, his warmth enveloping you. his hand found its way to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you even closer. he rested his chin on top of your head, the steady rise and fall of his breathing a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone.

“it’s okay,” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath against your hair. “you don’t have to say anything. i’m here. i’ve got you.”

his hand stroked your hair in gentle motions, like he was trying to smooth out the chaos inside you with each pass of his fingers. you didn’t resist, letting yourself melt into him, the tension you’d been carrying for so long slowly unraveling in his arms. you could feel his heart beating steadily against your cheek, and somehow, that rhythm made everything seem a little less terrifying. his scent wrapped around you—clean and familiar, with the faintest trace of something warm, like vanilla. it filled your senses, grounding you, reminding you that not everything was lost.

“you’re not alone anymore,” sunoo murmured, his voice low but strong. “whatever happens, whatever this is… you don’t have to carry it by yourself. i’ll be here, no matter what. i promise.”

you didn’t say anything, just pressed your face deeper into his chest, your fingers clutching at the fabric of his coat like it was the only thing keeping you standing. his words soaked into you, each one like a small stitch, trying to pull together the pieces of you that had been so brutally torn apart.

“i don’t know what happened,” he continued, his hand still moving slowly through your hair. “and i don’t need to know right now. all that matters is that you’re safe, and i’ll protect you from here on out. whatever it takes.”

his chin shifted slightly against your head, and you could feel the way his breath stirred your hair as he spoke. there was something so steady, so unshakable about the way he held you, like he was a wall between you and the rest of the world. you didn’t have to be strong right now, not with him. it was like all the weight you’d been carrying was finally allowed to fall.

“sunoo…” your voice cracked as you finally spoke, muffled against his chest. the words felt heavy, like they’d been trapped inside you for too long. “it’s over now. it just… ended.”

saying it out loud made it real, and the reality hit like a wave, crashing down with a force you weren’t ready for. your body shook as the sobs finally came, no longer silent, no longer restrained. you cried into his chest, letting everything out—everything you had been holding in, all the pain, all the confusion, all the love you didn’t know how to let go of.

sunoo tightened his hold on you, one hand pressing gently to your back, keeping you close, as if he could shield you from the hurt with his touch alone. “i know… i know,” he whispered softly, his voice trembling just a little, but he never wavered. “let it out. you don’t have to be strong right now. i’m here.”

he didn’t let go. not once. and in that moment, you let yourself believe him. you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to go through this alone. in his arms, with the sound of his heartbeat in your ears and his warmth surrounding you, the world didn’t feel as cold.

sunoo held you for a while longer, his chin still resting on your head as he let you cry in his arms. but as the minutes passed, the air around you began to grow colder, the last traces of sunlight disappearing beyond the horizon. he felt the slight shiver that ran through you and pulled back gently, just enough to look at you, concern flickering in his eyes.

"it’s getting dark," he said softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb. "and cold. let’s get you home and warm up, okay? i’ll take care of everything. i promise, you won’t be alone tonight."

there was something so reassuring in the way he said it, so sure and steady, that you found yourself nodding without hesitation. the thought of being alone, of walking back to an empty apartment with nothing but the echo of tonight’s heartbreak, made you feel even more fragile. but with sunoo, even just for now, you didn’t have to face that emptiness.

he smiled at your nod, that small, gentle smile of his that always seemed to bring a little light, even in moments like this. "come on, let’s go."

as he bent down to pick up the bouquet from the ground, you watched him for a moment, noticing how careful he was with the flowers, as if they were something precious. then, without a word, he slipped his arm around your shoulders, his touch warm and solid, guiding you gently as you leaned into him. you were still shaky, still sobbing quietly, but his presence made it just a little easier to take each step.

you rested your head on his shoulder as you walked, the weight of your grief still heavy, but his steady pace gave you something to hold on to. he led you to his car, the soft click of the remote unlocking the doors breaking the quiet of the night. when you reached the passenger side, he paused, opening the door for you with a care that felt so... intentional, like every movement was meant to make you feel safe.

"here," he said softly, helping you into the seat. he carefully set the bouquet in the back, the blue flowers almost glowing in the dim light from the streetlamps, before closing your door with a soft thud.

you watched him circle around the car, your eyes tracing his familiar figure as he moved, his hair slightly tousled from the breeze, the faint shadows of exhaustion under his eyes. when he slid into the driver’s seat, he turned to you with that same gentle smile, though there was a flicker of worry behind it.

"let’s go," he said quietly, and the engine purred to life as he started the car, the low hum filling the space between you.

you leaned your head against the window, feeling the cool glass press against your skin, your gaze drifting up towards the night sky. the stars were faint, scattered against the dark canvas of the city, but they were there, blinking quietly in the distance. you focused on them, using their distant light to hold yourself together, to keep the tears at bay. you didn’t want to cry anymore, not here, not in front of him.

the car moved smoothly through the streets, the soft glow of passing streetlights flickering over your face. you could feel sunoo’s eyes on you, stealing glances when he thought you weren’t noticing. but you felt it—his worry, his care, the way he was watching over you even in the smallest moments. every so often, he would adjust his grip on the steering wheel, his hand moving effortlessly between the controls, and you found yourself oddly comforted by the sight. there was something undeniably calming about the way he drove, like he was in control of everything, even when the world felt like it was falling apart around you.

after a while, you felt the softest touch—a gentle pressure on your hand. you looked down and saw sunoo’s hand resting on yours, which had been resting limply on your thigh. his touch was warm, his fingers wrapping lightly around yours, anchoring you to the moment.

"it’s going to be okay," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the engine. "i promise."

you couldn’t bring yourself to respond, not yet, but something in his touch, in his words, soothed the ache just a little. you stared out the window again, watching the city lights blur past as the car made its way through the familiar streets. despite the heaviness inside you, there was a strange sense of peace in this moment—in his presence, in the quiet reassurance he gave without asking anything in return.

every now and then, you caught the way his hand moved on the steering wheel, the light reflecting off his skin as he handled the car with one hand, the other still resting protectively on yours. there was something about the way he drove, the quiet confidence in each movement, that made you feel... safe. not just physically, but in a way that went deeper, as if he could handle whatever came next, as long as he was by your side.

you let out a shaky breath, your tears drying on your cheeks, and leaned back into the seat, the weight of the night still heavy but no longer unbearable. and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe—just a little—that maybe it really would be okay.

before you even realized it, you had arrived at the entrance of your apartment’s parking lot. the streetlights cast long, hazy shadows on the ground, and the gentle hum of the car's engine began to fade as sunoo effortlessly turned it off. he glanced at you one last time before you stepped out, his eyes brimming with quiet hope and an encouraging smile that seemed to say, “you’re not alone in this.”without hesitation, he got out of the car and hurried around to your side, not giving you a chance to move on your own. he opened the door for you, his attention entirely focused on you and nothing else. with gentle hands, he helped you out of the car, and as you stood up, he carefully reached into the backseat to retrieve the bouquet of flowers.

you fumbled for your keys in your pocket, your hands still shaky from the tears that hadn't fully dried. sunoo noticed, of course he did, and with that same tenderness, he took the keys from you, his fingers brushing yours in a way that made you feel like he was absorbing some of the weight you carried. "i’ve got it," he whispered, his voice a soft promise. he unlocked the door and nudged it open, but he didn’t step in first. no, he let you take that step—letting you lead in your own space, your sanctuary that felt strangely foreign at this moment.

you walked in, the familiar scent of home greeting you, but everything felt too still, too quiet. the weight of the day hung in the air, pressing down on your chest as you stood there, unsure of what to do next. sunoo closed the door softly behind you and, without saying a word, helped you slip off your coat. his movements were slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to shield you from even the smallest discomfort. he guided you gently toward the sofa, the only thing that seemed to belong in the room right now.

"how about you sit here for a while," he whispered, his voice as soothing as the night itself, "i’ll make us some tea, something warm to help you feel better." and before you could respond, he was already in the kitchen, the sound of cabinets opening and the quiet clinking of mugs filling the silence that you hadn’t noticed until then. the soft whir of the kettle began, blending with the faint shuffle of his feet on the kitchen floor. it was comforting, these small noises of someone taking care of you, the way he always knew what you needed before you even realized it yourself.

you sank into the sofa, eyes falling on the bouquet now resting on the coffee table. they were beautiful, untouched by the sadness in your heart, as if they held onto the light that seemed so distant from you. the warmth of the room, the soft glow from the lamps sunoo had turned on without you noticing, everything began to feel less overwhelming, even just for a moment.

sunoo came back, holding two steaming mugs, the rich scent of tea swirling around you. he set them down carefully next to the flowers before settling beside you, close enough that his presence was a balm against the storm inside you. without a word, he opened his arms, and you collapsed into him, your body shaking as the tears returned. he held you tighter, one hand stroking your back in soothing circles, his voice a quiet hum of comfort. "it’s going to be okay, y/n," he murmured, "i’m here. i’ll always be here.

and for a second—just a second—you believed him. the warmth of his chest, the steady beat of his heart, the safety of his embrace made everything feel less terrifying. you burrowed deeper into his arms, letting the soft fabric of his hoodie and the strength of his hold anchor you. you looked up at him through tear-streaked lashes, his face illuminated by the soft lamplight. his words, his presence, made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright.

sunoo didn’t say a word at first. he didn’t need to. his arms tightened around you, holding you as if he could shield you from the sadness that clung to you. he rested his chin on the top of your head, his steady breathing a rhythm that slowly started to soothe the chaos swirling inside you. his fingers gently threaded through your hair, soft strokes, as if each touch was meant to remind you he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

"it’s okay, let it out," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, but filled with so much warmth it almost made your chest ache. "i’m here. i’ll stay as long as you need me." his words weren’t rushed or forced, just a quiet truth, something solid in the midst of all the uncertainty that weighed down on you.

you could feel the wetness of your tears soaking through his hoodie, but he didn’t seem to care. he only held you closer, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, guiding it into the curve of his neck. you felt so small in his arms, but somehow, the pain felt a little less suffocating. the ache in your heart was still there, throbbing with every beat, but sunoo’s warmth kept you grounded, kept you from feeling like you were drowning.

"i know it hurts," he murmured into your hair, his breath warm against your scalp, "but you don’t have to go through it alone, okay? we’ll get through this together. i’ve got you." his voice cracked just the tiniest bit at the end, and you realized how much it hurt him to see you like this. but there wasn’t a trace of frustration or helplessness in his touch, only unwavering patience.

time seemed to stretch on endlessly, the minutes blending together as you cried into his arms. the room was still, the only sounds the faint ticking of the clock and your quiet sobs, slowly easing into shallow breaths. you clung to him, needing the solidness of his body, the reassurance of his touch.

"it’s going to be okay," he repeated softly, like a mantra. "i promise, y/n. i’ll be here every step of the way." he shifted slightly, just enough to pull you closer, his hand now cupping your cheek, brushing away the tears with the pad of his thumb. his eyes, warm and filled with nothing but concern, searched your face, making sure you were really there, really okay.

"i know it doesn’t feel like it right now," he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, "but one day, it won’t hurt as much. and when that day comes, you’ll look back and see how strong you are. but until then, lean on me. i’ll carry as much of this for you as i can."

his words washed over you like a balm, his presence a refuge from the pain that felt too heavy to bear. you didn’t have the strength to respond, but you didn’t need to. sunoo understood. he always did. he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual, as if trying to seal his promise with that one tender gesture.

slowly, the sobs subsided, leaving behind a quiet, aching stillness. your breathing steadied, and though the pain hadn’t left, it felt more bearable in the cocoon of his arms. you rested your head against his chest, listening to the soft, steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and let yourself be held, let yourself find comfort in his unwavering presence.

"just stay here with me," you whispered, your voice shaky and fragile. "don’t leave."

sunoo hugged you even tighter, his chin resting on your shoulder now. "i’m not going anywhere," he whispered back, his voice filled with so much certainty that, for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him. you closed your eyes, letting yourself melt into his embrace, and for a brief moment, the heartbreak seemed distant, something outside the walls of this small, quiet world the two of you had created.

slowly, the tension in your body eased as you stayed wrapped in his arms, the warmth of his chest steady against your cheek. you let out a shaky breath, feeling a small sliver of calm begin to take root amidst the chaos. sunoo's presence was enough, his quiet reassurances and the gentle rhythm of his breathing pulling you back from the edge of your heartbreak. after a moment, you pulled back slightly, enough to lift your head and meet his gaze.

sunoo’s hand moved gently from your back to your face, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with the same delicate care he’d shown all night. he tilted your chin up slightly, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. the room felt impossibly quiet, like the world outside had faded completely, leaving only the two of you in this small, warm space.

“you know,” he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “i’ve always admired you. not just for how strong you are… but for everything else. your kindness. your smile. the way you care for others, even when you’re hurting.”

his thumb brushed lightly across your cheek, the touch so tender that it made your heart stutter. “you don’t even realize how special you are, do you?” he asked, his eyes softening as they moved over your face, taking in every detail as if he wanted to memorize you in this moment. “and not just on the inside… you’re beautiful. you always have been.”

his words sank into you, deeper than you expected, and you felt a warmth bloom in your chest, something soft but undeniable. it was like he was seeing through all the pain, all the exhaustion, to the person you weren’t sure was still there anymore. and for the first time in a while, you felt seen. truly seen.

his hand stayed on your cheek, his palm warm against your skin, and you found yourself leaning into it slightly, as if you couldn’t help but be drawn closer to him. there was something magnetic about him in this moment—the way his gaze held yours, the way his touch seemed to chase away the cold that had been sitting inside you all night. you felt a strange pull, a quiet longing that you didn’t quite know how to name, but it was there, growing with every second you spent in his arms.

sunoo’s thumb brushed across your lips, just the faintest touch, but it sent a shiver through you. “i’m sorry you’ve been through so much,” he murmured, his voice even softer now. “but i promise… i’ll be here. i’ll always be here.”

there was something in his eyes, something deeper, that made your breath hitch in your throat. it wasn’t just reassurance anymore—there was a tenderness there, a kind of closeness that went beyond simple comfort. it felt like he was opening up a part of himself to you, something that had always been there, just waiting for you to notice.

and you did notice. suddenly, you were acutely aware of how close he was, of how his hand cradled your face with such care, of the way his gaze flickered down to your lips for just a split second before meeting your eyes again. the pull between you grew stronger, an invisible thread drawing you closer, until it was impossible to ignore.

your heart raced as you watched him, your mind spinning with the realization that you weren’t just seeking comfort anymore—you were seeking him. the closeness, the warmth, the way his words made you feel seen and understood… it all made you want to close the distance, to move closer, to let yourself fall into this strange but undeniable connection.

sunoo’s breath was shaky as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours so softly, it was almost like a question. the kiss was light, tentative, and for a moment, you froze. your eyes widened, surprised by the suddenness of it, your heart skipping a beat. it wasn’t what you had expected, not tonight, not like this. but even in your surprise, you didn’t pull away.

his lips were warm, soft, and his touch was so gentle it felt like he was afraid of pushing too far. but you didn’t move. you didn’t want to. something inside you was holding you there, caught in the moment, unable to back away.

sunoo pulled back first, his eyes wide with realization. “oh—i’m sorry,” he stammered, his voice full of regret. “i didn’t mean to… i didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” his hands moved to your shoulders, as if to steady you, his eyes full of worry. “i shouldn’t have—”

but before he could finish, you found yourself reaching for him. your fingers brushed his cheek, stopping him mid-sentence. your mind was still reeling, but your heart knew what it wanted. without thinking, you leaned in, closing the gap between you. this time, the kiss wasn’t a question. it was an answer.

your lips met his softly at first, a gentle press that quickly deepened into something more. it wasn’t rushed or urgent, but it was full of emotion—a quiet desperation, a need for closeness that had been building all night. sunoo’s hands moved from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you gently towards him as his lips moved with yours in a slow, careful rhythm.

you felt his warmth seep into you, the soft heat of his hands as they slid up from your waist to your sides, his touch careful but sure. each movement was filled with tenderness, his fingers brushing your skin like he was afraid to break the moment, but at the same time, unable to let go.

your own hands found their way to his face, your fingers tangling gently in his hair as you kissed him back, matching his slow, steady pace. it was like nothing else existed in the world—just the two of you, the quiet hum of the room, and the soft press of his lips against yours. the warmth of him, the safety you felt in his arms, was overwhelming. you hadn’t realized how much you’d needed this—needed him—until now.

sunoo’s hands moved again, this time one slipping up to cup your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek as he kissed you, his touch so full of care that it made your chest ache in the best way. the other hand stayed on your waist, holding you close, anchoring you to him in a way that felt both protective and intimate.

you could feel his heart racing, the steady thrum beneath his skin matching the rhythm of your own. there was something so gentle, so patient, in the way he kissed you, like he was taking his time, making sure every moment was soft, every touch full of meaning. his lips moved slowly, carefully, as if he wanted to savor every second of this closeness.

the kiss deepened, but never lost its gentleness. his hand moved from your face to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he kissed you with a quiet intensity. every touch, every soft brush of his lips, made you feel warmer, safer, like the world outside didn’t matter as long as he was here with you.

you melted into him, your body softening against his as the kiss continued, slow and tender. his hands explored your sides, your back, his touch never straying too far, but always grounding you in the moment. you felt cherished, held in a way that made you believe, if only for now, that everything would be okay.

eventually, the kiss slowed, but neither of you pulled away. your foreheads rested together, breaths mingling as you stayed close, his hands still cradling you gently. sunoo’s eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a softness that made your heart ache all over again.

“i… i don’t know what this means,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, “but… i’m here. and i’ll keep being here… as long as you need me.”

his words, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the quiet comfort of being held—it all made you feel something you hadn’t felt in a long time. safe. wanted. and maybe, just maybe, like you could let yourself fall into this, into him, without fear.

the room felt suspended in time, the quiet hum of the city outside dimming until it was just the two of you, lost in each other’s presence. your head rested on sunoo’s chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing soothing, like the softest lullaby. you looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and a small smile tugged at your lips. there was something so tender in the way he looked back at you, his eyes full of warmth and affection that made your heart flutter.

sunoo’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go. his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it filled the space between you with a kind of sweetness that made your chest feel light.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his hand gently caressing your arm, his thumb brushing over your skin in slow, soothing strokes. “i’ve always thought so… even when you don’t see it yourself.”

his words made your smile widen, a warmth blooming inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. you nestled closer to him, your heart beating steadily in time with his. it was easy to get lost in this moment, the way he held you, the way his voice was like a soft caress against your skin.

“you deserve so much more,” he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. “more love, more happiness. and i’ll make sure you have that. even if it’s just for tonight, i’ll give you everything i can.”

his forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breath mingling with yours, his fingers still trailing gently up and down your arm. it felt like you were in your own little world, shielded from the rest of the universe by the warmth of his embrace. sunoo kissed your forehead softly, his lips lingering there for a few seconds, as if trying to absorb every ounce of pain you had carried. his other hand slipped up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek as he kissed you there again, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.

you couldn’t help but smile, the soft affection between you making your heart swell. without thinking, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his again, just a quick peck, something so innocent yet full of meaning. when you pulled back, sunoo chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling in the corners as a small laugh escaped you too.

for a moment, everything was light again, like the weight of the world had been lifted. but then the silence settled over you once more, and you found yourselves staring into each other’s eyes, the connection between you deepening with every second that passed. the air felt charged with something you couldn’t quite name, something that made your heart race and your breath hitch.

you leaned in first this time, and your lips met his again, the kiss soft but full of emotion. sunoo’s arms tightened around you, and you felt his body shift slightly, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as he kissed you back with a slow, deliberate tenderness. it wasn’t rushed, but it was filled with a kind of quiet longing that made your heart skip a beat.

somehow, without either of you realizing it, you found yourselves shifting positions. sunoo moved carefully, his hands never leaving your body as he gently guided you back onto the sofa. you sank into the cushions, your back pressed against the soft fabric, and sunoo hovered above you, his knees on either side of your hips as he leaned down, his lips brushing yours again. he was careful, keeping most of his weight off you, his body hovering close but never pressing down.

the kiss deepened, his lips moving against yours in a slow, intoxicating rhythm. his hands slid from your waist to your sides, his touch gentle but full of purpose, like he was savoring every moment of this closeness. you could feel the heat of his body above you, the warmth of his breath against your skin, and it made your head spin in the best way.

your hands found their way to his shoulders, then his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more passionate. it wasn’t rushed, but there was a quiet urgency between you now, a need to feel more of each other, to hold on tighter to this moment. sunoo’s lips left yours for just a second, trailing down to the curve of your jaw, then to the soft skin of your neck. his kisses were light, tentative, like he was testing the waters, waiting for your response.

you didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch. instead, you let your hands slide into his hair, your fingers tangling gently in the strands as his lips brushed against your skin. the sensation sent a shiver through you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable—it was something else entirely, something warm and inviting.

sunoo must have felt it too, because after a moment, he returned to your lips, capturing them in another slow, tender kiss. this time, his hands moved up to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently across your cheeks as he kissed you with the same gentle intensity as before. there was something so soft, so reassuring in his touch, like he was reminding you that he was here, that you weren’t alone anymore.

between kisses, his lips hovered just above yours, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, “your touch… it’s unlike anything i’ve ever felt before. it’s like… you were made for this, for being held like this.”

his words made your chest tighten, your heart swelling with something you couldn’t quite name. the tenderness in his voice, the way he spoke to you like you were the most precious thing in the world, made you feel more seen and more cherished than you had in a long time.

you kissed him again, your lips seeking his with a newfound hunger, and sunoo responded in kind, his hands moving from your face to your waist, then back up to your sides, cradling you gently as if you were something fragile. each kiss was slow, deliberate, filled with a kind of care that made you feel safe, protected. his lips moved with yours in perfect sync, the connection between you growing deeper with every passing second.

the warmth of his body, the softness of his touch, the gentle rhythm of his kisses—it all made you feel like you were floating, like you were wrapped in a cocoon of comfort and affection that you never wanted to leave. and in that moment, as you lay there with sunoo, the world outside faded away completely, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other’s touch, in each other’s warmth.

as you lay beneath him, the gentle rhythm of his lips on yours began to stir something deeper inside. the tenderness, the warmth—it was no longer enough. there was a magnetic pull, a craving that grew with every brush of his lips. you felt it in the way sunoo’s hands roamed your sides, a bit more deliberate, his fingers pressing slightly harder as though he too was feeling the same urgency between you.

sunoo’s kisses trailed lower, down your jaw to your neck, and you couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped you. he was so careful, his lips barely grazing your skin at first, then growing bolder, leaving a trail of delicate, wet kisses down the curve of your neck. your hands slid up into his hair, tangling in the soft strands, encouraging him as he moved, his lips pressing deeper, lingering longer, until you felt the faintest tug of teeth.

his breath was warm against your skin, his kisses shifting lower as he pulled at the collar of your blouse, just enough to expose your collarbone. your heart raced as he kissed there, the sensation of his lips making your body respond in ways that made your chest tighten. sunoo’s kisses were slow and intentional, his mouth working its way across your skin, each kiss sending a ripple of warmth through you.

his lips hovered for a moment, just beneath your ear, and he whispered softly, “i want to take care of you… all of you.”

the words sent a shiver down your spine, a shiver that only deepened when his mouth returned to your neck, leaving the faintest of marks in his wake, barely noticeable but there, a silent claim. your breath hitched as his lips found the hollow at the base of your throat, and he pulled your blouse aside a little more, giving himself access to your collarbone. his kisses there were slower, wetter, each one pulling a small, soft gasp from you.

your fingers trembled as they made their way to the hem of his hoodie, your mind spinning with the heat of his touch. you hesitated for a moment, your fingers pausing, but the craving to feel more of him—his warmth, his skin—overpowered any doubts. with a slow, tentative movement, you tugged the fabric up, exposing the firm muscles beneath.

sunoo’s body was sculpted, each line of his chest and abs defined, and your gaze was instantly drawn to the sight of him. he noticed your stare, a soft chuckle escaping him, his lips curling into a small smirk that made your heart race even faster. he grabbed your hand, his touch gentle yet firm, and guided it to his chest. pressing your palm flat against the hard planes of his skin, he leaned in, his voice low, teasing.

“go on,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “i’m not going anywhere.”

the warmth of his skin under your fingers was electric, his heart beating steadily beneath your touch. you smiled, feeling more confident, and sunoo’s smirk only deepened as he watched you, his gaze never leaving yours.

before you could think twice, you shifted positions again, moving so that you were straddling him, your legs on either side of his hips. his back rested against the sofa, his hands finding your waist, holding you steady as you moved on top of him. your heart pounded in your chest, the intimacy of the moment overwhelming, but the way sunoo’s hands gripped your hips, the way his lips found your shoulder, made you feel like you were exactly where you belonged.

he leaned in, his mouth once again trailing a line of slow, wet kisses down your shoulder and across your collarbone. the space he had exposed earlier was now his playground, and every kiss, every press of his lips, sent a new wave of heat rushing through you. your breath came in shallow gasps, your hands gripping his shoulders as he worked his way lower, his kisses more insistent, more demanding.

with trembling fingers, you reached for the hem of your blouse, pulling it over your head and letting it fall to the floor. you wanted to give him more—more access, more of yourself. the vulnerability of the moment was overwhelming, but sunoo’s touch, his gaze, made you feel safe.

his hands slid from your waist to your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine as his lips moved back up to meet yours. there was a hunger now, a shared desire that neither of you could deny. his kisses were deeper, more passionate, his hands gripping your waist as if to ground himself in the heat of the moment.

the heat between you was palpable, the desire undeniable, yet sunoo remained so careful, so attentive to your every move, every reaction. his lips found yours again, and the kiss deepened, his hands roaming your body as he held you close. and in that moment, everything else faded away—the pain, the heartbreak, the doubt. all that remained was the warmth of his body, the softness of his lips, and the undeniable pull that drew you closer to him with every touch.

“you look so beautiful tonight,” he whispered, staring down at your exposed cleavage, the only obstacle keeping him away from your tits being a piece of laced bra. sunoo couldn’t help but smirked, making eye contact with you again before turning you around, your back against his chest. he led you to lean on him, his hands trailing invisible lines on your stomach and reaching the bra wire. “will you let me?” he whispered into your ear.

you nodded, in the intensity of the moment, and threw your head back on his shoulder when his hands found their way under your bra and cupped your tits, sending you butterflies. his hands were firm on your chest, but not forceful. you bit your lower lip as his index fingers touched your nipples each, crossing your legs in response. sunoo smiled at the notice of that, realising he’s just found one of your sensitive spots. his fingers continued teasing your buds, as a heat started to grow between your legs, the sense of wetness being more and more intense.

“do you want me to go harder on them or is this just perfect?” he whispered again, gently continuing with his play. he couldn’t get tired of it, your nipples felt just right between his fingers, your tits fitting in his hands just perfectly, finding their own new owner. “i like it like that” you barely said, afraid to escape a light moan. sunoo nodded, not changing his rhythm or strength on you, fulfilling all of your desires.

feeling your ass keep moving on his lap, the bulge inside his pants started to get more and more noticeable. you felt his hardness pressing against you, a testament to his perpetual attraction to your body. eager to show him your mutual affection, you pressed harder against him, keeping your lips shut with your teeth, holding your whines back. the way his hardened part pushed into your thin leggings caused more wetness to add up, an ocean in your panties.

“you turn me on so much” he confessed, unable to control his whining. his hands slowly left your tits in place, following to open your bra from behind, the piece of cloth falling hopelessly on the floor. “more reasons for my hands to hold you close” sunoo whispered, “but i think there’s something else that wants to be held too”

unhesitant, his right hand went down your body, reaching your most sensitive part. he used two fingers to trail a line between your legs, slowly, firmly, just the right way to tease every single bit of you. then the line turned into a circle, your clit being triggered every few seconds, and your moans couldn’t be hidden anymore. you opened your legs apart, giving him more access to your needy cunt, screaming for his touch under the piece of cloth. he noticed so, and pressed harder until your folds were holding onto the leggings, taking the shape of your perfect pussy.

“so pretty” he whispered softly inside you ear, sending the now-lost-number of shivers from today, through your whole body. his voice sounded incredible itself, but his whispering awakened a whole new emotion within you. sunoo could not take a break from feeling your wetness in his hand, his impatient fingers pushing the leggings harder inside you. "do you want more, y/n?" he gave you the right to choose like the gentleman he is and you nodded in response, unable to control yourself.

it only took a second for him to process your answer and stand up while letting you fall, carefully, on the sofa. his figure was so beautiful in the dim light, every line forming his abs almost shadowing his body in small places. his straight shoulder added more masculinity to his aura while his permanent smirk went down your body, his head facing your clothed cunt.

"let's take these off" and in the next moment, your leggings were nowhere to be found. his breathe, hot enough, was now making your panties even more soaked. he stuck his playful tongue out, reaching closer to your pussy while his eyes did not leave yours at all, not for a single minute.

you looked down at him and smiled naively, just as his tongue dragged a wet line along your panties, going from bottom to your clit. he paid extra attention to it, giving it an additional lick to end the first round. you trembled at his touch, your lips covered in biting marks now.

impatiently, sunoo pulled your panties aside, a new image raising ahead of him. “you have such a pretty pussy, sweetheart” he whispered again, giving it a quick lick to make your body shake. he giggled and continued with a second one, this time slower and more precise, his eyes on you still. and then the simple up and down line became a whole maze, his adventurous tongue exploring every single bit of you. and as he felt his tongue wasn’t doing enough to satisfy his taste, sunoo started taking your cunt inside his mouth, feeling your flavour down his throat.

he rolled his eyes back at the taste of that and continued to eat you hungrily, moaning inside you. his hands were now holding onto your thighs firmly, dragging them closer so we could bury his face deeper inside you. on the other side, you threw your head back, whining his name aloud. without hesitation, you pushed his head deeper inside, only receiving more moans from him. not only his moans were loud, but the way he was eating out, like he has been so starved for your taste for years.

“you taste like sugar” he raised his head to say, winking at you teasingly. you giggled and hid your face behind your hands, shy now more than ever. he noticed so and came closer to your face, his fingers trailing along your inner thighs. “want to feel my fingers, baby?” he asked, biting your earlobe softly, but enough to get a whine out of you. you nodded again, unable to find your words, and that’s all it took for him to push his fingers all the way inside you pussy, without any warnings or adjustments.

“sunoo-ya!!” you screamed, your arms around his neck and gazing at his beautiful, precious smile, which turned into a smirk as his fingers rushed to slide outside and inside you, no break, no question, just him aggressively taking over your cunt. it felt so good words couldn’t be formed anymore, regardless of your tries to call out his name. you couldn’t do anything but stutter, eyes rolling back more and more and arms growing weaker around his neck.

“do you like them inside you?” he asked, almost aware of your impossibility to say a word. you tried to nod, again, but not even that was an option anymore. you clenched around his fingers, legs shaking in pleasure. sunoo left more wet kisses around your neck and collarbone, reaching your breasts again. unlike before, now it was his teeth that teased your nipples, nibbling and playfully pulling them towards him. his mouth, unable to resist, took your left tit inside, sucking on it like a baby. which was way too ironic, considering how ruined your pussy was by now, his fingers still going.

“s-sunoo, please s-stop” you managed to say quietly. “shhhh, baby” he whispered, boob still inside his mouth, licking around it loudly and moaning softly. “tonight i am crazy over you” sunoo confessed, as he finally gave your wetness a break, and licked his fingers. “tastes like….mine” he chuckled, pushing his fingers inside your mouth and making you suck on them. you did so, feeling your own taste inside your mouth and relishing it.

“you ask me to stop but the way you clench around my hand…says something else”

sunoo kissed your forehead and sat down next to you. he dragged you closer into his chest, a solemn will for his care and took your hand inside his, placing a final kiss on your skin. “you make me go crazy over you, y/n” he whispered, feeling your delicate skin around. “i don’t have a condom right now, but if you want me to make you feel good again,” he took a small break, turning around to gaze into your eyes “i’ll make sure to bring you to heaven next time”

can you tell i was listening to moonstruck in the last part? hope you enjoyed and feedback is highly appreciated 🤍

[morningberriesao3]

“Listen, I’ll level with you. Corroded Coffin always sucked—”

“What?!”

“Here me out, man! It’s true! As a band, we’d never make it. Gareth can barely keep time on the drums, I can barely keep time with Gareth, Grant has always just been there to let the good times roll.”

“We didn’t suck,” Eddie insists. Because they could make a song… decent. It was always decent in the end, and the half-a-dozen patrons of The Hideout rarely had issues identifying what songs they were trying to play.

A success, Eddie thinks.

“Okay. Okay, we didn’t suck. For a high school band.” Jeff lowers his voice like he’s telling Eddie some big secret through the phone. “But you—you’re what made it not suck. I can strum a power chord, Eddie, but your solos could have brought in a crowd if the rest of us weren’t dragging you down.”

Eddie shakes his head, realizing after a few seconds that Jeff isn’t actually there to see it. Instead of arguing a case that his friend seems to be stuck on, Eddie just mumbles, “Don’t let Gare here to say that. He’ll flip his lid.”

Jeff snorts into the speaker. “Corroded Coffin will be a total legend one day. When everyone finds out you used to be the front man.”

There’s a thump from the outside hallway of Eddie’s building—probably the shithead neighbour kids trudging up the stairs. Eddie lets his eyes flick to the chain lock, just in case today is the day they decide to rob him blind—of the deli ham in his fridge and the three-day old bread to match it. His milk crate furniture. His pack of half-smoked camels.

“You sure are dishing out the compliments tonight, Jeffy.”

“Yeah. Well. It’s the holidays.” Jeff awkwardly clears his throat. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I’d rather it be a—” Eddie swallows his words whole, jumps about a foot in the air, too, as there’s three heavy knocks on his apartment’s door. He clutches at his heart as Jeff asks what happened. All he can do is mumble out a few curse words, and finally answer in a whisper, “I’m about to get mugged!”

“What?”

“The little shits from next door!” Eddie stands from his sofa, toes across the floor so as to not make it creak. His door doesn’t have a peephole—shouldn’t need one, either, because there’s an intercom that non-robbers would use. “They’re finally here to seal my fate!”

It sounds like Jeff rolls his eyes. “You’ve been too long without a campaign, man. All that psycho is getting bottled up, making you paranoid.”

“Who else would be banging at my door at nine at night on Christmas Eve,” Eddie whispers against the mouthpiece of his phone. The chord doesn’t stretch enough for him to reach the door, so he stands a few feet away, craning his neck like he might be able to peek around it.

Another thump of a fist against wood sends Eddie flying upwards, hackles raised like a spooked cat.

“Did you watch Black Christmas recently?” Jeff asks from the safety of his family home. Lucky bastard.

“Of course I fucking watched—That has nothing to do with this!” Eddie swallows hard. Maybe all the scary movies do affect him more now that he lives alone.

Just a little bit.

“Just answer the door, man. It’s probably some sweet old lady from downstairs who wants to borrow a cup of sugar.”

Eddie scoffs a little too loudly. He hopes he doesn’t clue the intruder—or maybe the axe murderer—in on the other side of the door to his presence. “Do I look like I’m the type of person to have ingredients inside my apartment?”

Jeff cackles lightheartedly as if Eddie’s life isn’t in imminent danger. “Tell her that!”

“I hope you feel bad when they make a documentary about this.” Eddie huffs out a breath, walks back to the phone’s cradle. “At least I’ll die pretty.”

“Hey—call me tomorrow to let me know whether you’ve perished, yeah?”

“If I’ve perished,” Eddie says dryly, “I won’t be able to call you.”

“Then I’ll have my answer.”

There’s another loud bang at the door—louder even than the others. Someone with big hands, then, ready to wring Eddie’s neck.

“Yeah, yeah. Off to my death, I guess.”

“I guess.” Jeff clicks his tongue. “Talk later. Or, you know. Not.”

“Fuck you, man.” Eddie hangs up the phone.

He feels extra alone now, more alone than before his phone conversation. More alone now that there’s someone waiting for him on the other side of some flimsy plywood and a rusted deadbolt.

But there’s a small part of him that’s curious, if not excited, to speak to a real person when he thought his only musings would be muttered in the form of curse words when he fingered a chord wrong or burnt his toast this holiday.

There’s a shadow under the door that shifts to the right, then the left. Then backwards, until it completely pulls away from the shining hallway light. Eddie steps forward like the shadow is a magnet, like it wills his body forward as it moves farther.

“Wait, I—” Eddie calls out to the shadow—to the little old lady who wants a cup of sugar, to the shithead neighbour kids, to the person who’ll make him a little less lonely.

The shadow returns as quickly as it backed away.

Eddie heaves a sigh and gets on with his murder, trudging towards the door. He undoes the chain lock, flicks the deadbolt to the left, unscrews the knob. And he yanks the door open.

He’s met with brown eyes. Brown eyes rimmed in green. Too warm for the chilly winter night.

“H—” Eddie coughs on the word, wrapping his ringed fingers around his own throat as if it might make him speak better. “Harrington? The fuck are you doing here?!”

Amusement flashes in the summer of Steve’s eyes—ones that look even wider with his chin hidden away by a thick navy-blue scarf and a matching winter hat. Little tufts of brown stick out from between them; a hair sandwich breaded by woven wool.

There are no gloves on Steve’s hands—wind-bitten and pink—as they tug down his scarf to reveal a sheepish grin. “What took you so long?”

I have 37K already posted on ao3 for the @steddiebang2024. Click here to keep reading! (18+ Only, Rated E)

From Chapter Three, Where the Love Light Gleams, of A Thousand Flowers Could Bloom

[heartiis]

the big apple ꩜ .ᐟ pt.1

pt.2

pairing - ellie x reader

synopsis - you've just moved to nyc and ellie's your new neighbor. she hates you though and you don't know why :((

cw - mean ellie, eventual side gig dealer ellie, eventual weed, eventual tattoo artist ellie, cigs, drinking, no smut this time but there will be eventually, swearing, reader is feminine, descriptions of outfits, uhh can't think of what else I'm new to this

a/n - this is my first fanfic and english isn't my first language so yea !! there's going to be multiple parts, I'm not sure how many yet. I hope u like it. lots of wish fulfillment here bc I'm not american and would love to live in nyc. I tried to imagine what ellie, jesse and dina would be like irl but I also just did what I wanted to do loll

Your new apartment in New York was dingy, run down and just the slightest bit smelly. But that didn’t matter. You loved it because it was yours, just yours. You were going to pay the rent and everything, and you already had a job at a coffee shop lined up for when your savings ran out.

Then there was the matter of the neighbor. You see, very often, the smell of weed crept under their doorway and made it’s way into your apartment, and into your nose. It wasn’t that you hated it. No, unfortunately for you, you loved it. You wanted so desperately to know who it was that was stinking up your apartment, and what they must be doing every time they got high.

Did they listen to music, the same kind you did? Or did they just lay there, thinking about life? Where they talking to someone? Touching someone…?

You wouldn’t be so nosy, you imagined, if you had your own weed. But moving to a city where you knew no one was complicated. Finding a plug was complicated, even if it was in New York, and it would be great if you could befriend your neighbor and ask them for a referral.

Your question about what they looked like was suddenly answered when you came out on Monday morning for your first official shift at the coffee shop. On that day, your neighbor who you’d never seen before just happened to leave their apartment at the same time as you, and as soon as you saw her, you were struck by how hot she was.

Dressed in baggy, stylish clothes, with auburn hair cut to her shoulders and tied back in a haphazard bun, she was your idea of walking sex. The place you’d be working at didn’t have a uniform except for an apron with its logo, and suddenly you felt sheepish in your dainty goodwill floral dress and sneakers.

Everyone in New York was so cool, with studded belts and graphic tees from bands you obviously wouldn’t know, that your style which had suited you so well living in your small hometown now felt boring. You’d run away to the big apple to be where the action was, to meet cool people and live a full life. But it was growing increasingly clear to you that maybe those people wouldn’t be as eager to meet you.

You turned your head to look at your neighbor, who was exactly the type of person you’d envisioned would be a part of your new amazing life. She had freckles all over her nose and cheeks, creeping down her neck. And she had a beautiful tattoo on her arm. A tattoo! The grand majority of people in your hometown were too conservative to have those, even the young ones. You found yourself wanting to trace it with your fingers…

You realized you were staring, and tried to snap yourself back to reality. Work. You were in the elevator because you needed to go to work.

You straightened up as the elevator bell dinged, then started to walk out—and tripped. The stupid old machine had stopped just below floor level, making it so that you had to step up a bit as if climbing stairs, which you hadn’t done.

Right in front of your extremely hot, extremely-your-type-neighbor. Except it didn’t matter, did it? You didn’t want a complicated relationship with your neighbor (not that you had any confidence she’d be interested in you like that) and there were so many other hot women in New York.

But when you looked back, she was smirking, and it was the sexiest thing ever. So it did matter, a lot.

At least you’d managed not to fall.

You tried to gain back composure, laughing slightly so it was less awkward. But she just kept that same shit-eating grin on her face. Then she scoffed. Actually scoffed. Goddamn. What made it worse was that her distaste for you only made her hotter, more desirable, in your eyes. You were screwed.

You realized you weren’t moving when she walked past you with her hand reaching into her back pocket. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and did not look back at you as she walked out of the building. You wondered were she was going.

The rest of your day was anxiety inducing. You felt a growing swarm of nerves in your stomach as you were introduced to your co-workers and taught the ropes of your job. You were just thankful they didn’t have you dealing with clients yet. During the early hours of your shift, there had been a steady line at the cash register full of all kinds of people, some of them nice and patient, others not so much. You’d clearly chosen a busy spot to work in.

Then again, wasn’t that most places in New York? You smiled to yourself. Things were indeed nerve-racking, but they were also so very exciting.

As the week went on, you began to settle into the motions of your job. Making more complicated drinks was still very hard, but there were simpler manual tasks you would do were you didn’t have to think much about what your body was doing. And in those quieter moments, your mind would wander to that elevator, and the embarrassing moment you’d had.

After the inner panic at the thought of it would fade, you’d think about your neighbor. You wondered what her life was like here. What she did for a living, what her weekends looked like, if she participated in the nightlife of the city you had no friends to explore with yet. You wanted to know her name, and who her friends were, and if she had a girlfriend (because you were pretty damn sure she liked girls). But unluckily for you, you received very little hints.

After that first day on Monday, you hadn’t seen her in the mornings, nor in the afternoons when you came back home. All you had of her were those moments where the slight smell of weed rose up in your apartment, making you wish you could just knock on her door and join in on the smoke sesh.

Then Friday night came. You were spent from your busy first week and decided to stop by the supermarket on the way home to get yourself some cheap wine and a single wine glass.

It was a warm summer night, so you sat on the fire escape window in your little pajama shorts and tank top, setting down the things you’d bought next to you. You’d already opened the wine, so you poured it in the glass and took to sipping. When the first glass was done you poured yourself another, already starting to feel a little tipsy. You had just begun to drink it when you heard the sound of your neighbor’s window roll up, accompanied with a man’s laughter.

He stepped out onto the fire escape with a beer bottle and leaned against the railing. He wore clothes with a similar, baggy style to your neighbor’s. Then came out a pretty girl with dark hair pulled into a ponytail and heeled black leather boots.

“Come on, slowpoke!” she said, extending a hand.

“Alright, alright I’m coming! I was just checking my phone.” Your neighbor grabbed the girl’s hand and stepped onto the fire escape.

Girlfriend? You thought, feeling like you were deflating.

“You got a message from one of your little fuck buddies?” The girl teased.

Not a girlfriend. Oh, and your neighbor had fuck buddies. You found it kind of hot, of course. Because you were always into the girls who might as well be walking around with the word “danger” written onto their foreheads. It also did makes you feel a little weird, because you knew she wouldn’t fuck you, and even if she did, you’d just be a fuck buddy. But what did it matter? It wasn’t like you even knew her enough to be able to want anything more. Still, you felt weird.

“Clients, actually,” she responded.

“Yeah, Dina, you think Ellie would even deign to give any of those girls her number?”

So, her name was Ellie.

“Asshole,” Ellie said as Dina laughed.

Your time spent staring at her was cut short when she noticed your presence, looking directly at you. You couldn’t help but notice her grin slide right off her face. You picked up the wine glass and tasted the drink nervously.

“Hey!” The guy said, with a bright smile on his mouth. “You must be the new neighbor.”

“Yeah,” you said, hesitating. You watched Ellie’s reaction to this closely. She seemed annoyed her friend was even making conversation with you.

“Much cuter than the last one,” Dina smiled. You smiled back softly.

“Well, it’s not really hard to compete with Stinky Steve,” Ellie said, and your smile faded.

“Dude.” The guy shot her a look. “Anyways, my name’s Jesse. I’m Ellie’s friend.”

“Nice to meet you. My name’s y/n.”

“So,” Dina cut in. “Are you living alone or have you got a roomate that’s cute like you?”

“Um, I’m living alone. I’m new to the city, actually, so I don’t really know anybody yet.”

Jesse leaned onto the railing closest to your side. “Well, you know us now.” He looked at Dina and Ellie, taking a swig of his beer. “You know what? We actually came here to pre-game. We’re going to this club in like an hour, if you want to come with.”

“Jesse.” Ellie looked like she wanted to deck him.

“What? She seems cool!”

“Yeah, Ellie, don’t be such a dick. Be nice to your neighbor.” Dina poked her. Ellie didn’t say anything else, just sat down on the window ledge and looked brooding.

“So, what do you say y/n?”

You thought about it. Maybe the wine was making you more confident, but you kind of wanted to say yes. Not just because you wanted to get closer to Ellie, but because Dina and Jesse seemed cool too, and you really wanted to go out partying in the city. You looked at Ellie, who was staring off into the distance. You’d feel uncomfortable saying yes, knowing she clearly didn’t want you to go. But then you thought it wasn’t fair for her to keep you from making friends. It didn’t make sense for her to hate you so much. You hadn’t even done anything to her.

Yeah, fuck her.

“Okay. I’m just going to get ready while you guys pre-game, is that good?”

“Hell yeah!” Jesse clapped his hands. “Knock on our door when you’re ready.”

“My door,” Ellie interjected. You thought to yourself that you were going to find some other hot girl to dance with, so you could forget about your rude neighbor.

“Oh, one thing,” Jesse said. “How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Same as Ellie! You got a fake id?”

Ellie scoffed. “Definitely not..” She said it under her breath, but you heard it anyways.

“Of course.” You smiled.

“Attagirl.”

Dina smiled and looked pointedly at Ellie.

You climbed inside your apartment, heading straight to your room. Your excitement was taken down a notch when you opened your closet. Jesse, Dina and Ellie were all wearing stylish clothes. Dina had on a hot club girl outfit, while Jesse and Ellie looked like attractive people you’d see at the skate park. They all looked like they’d be stopped by one of those tiktok street interviewers who would ask them to talk about their outfits. You thought about Ellie’s clothes. She was wearing jorts and a shirt with the sides cut out, revealing her Calvin Klein sports bra at the sides. You bit your lip, then shook your head, turning to the task at hand.

Your floral dresses were out of the question. You had a few basic crop tops and tanks which would do for a top, but you didn’t want something that would just do. You were a resident of New York City now, and you wanted to look the part. Then you remembered something. One of the coolest girl friends you had back in your hometown had given you a dress because you’d said you thought it was hot.

You sifted through your things and fished it out. It was a simple black dress with thin straps, but it was quite short and meant to cling onto your body. You’d never worn it before, in part because you hadn’t had many occasions for it, and also in part because you were worried you’d feel self-conscious in it. Especially because it could easily ride up and expose your ass. Whatever. You took out from your closet some tights you could wear underneath and called it a day.

You slipped it on and put on a few rings and your favorite necklace, then went back to the bathroom to put on some makeup. You put on lots of eyeliner and eyeshadow around your eyes, creating a sort of smokey eye look, then stepped back to look at yourself. Finally, you sprayed on some of your favorite perfume. Perfect. You smiled and walked out of your apartment, knocking on Ellie’s door.

Dina answered. “Oh, shit, you look hot.”

“Thanks.” You tilted your head, a little shy but happy.

Jesse came up next to Dina. “Ready to go?”

“Yup,” you replied.

pt.2

[starboye]

Ooh I love shy reader and dealer!rafe. What about rafe finally sees the reader again at the party but some guy has the reader against the wall and is just kissing the reader all over his neck and lips. I KNOW rafe wouldn't be too happy 🤭

it had been some time since the whole thing with you and rafe at your apartment, surprisingly he didn't try to fuck and dip but instead stayed and comforted you through your high time and then left all together which surprised you

now you got high every other weekend when things got to stressful and hadn't seem rafe in a week or two... alright fine four weeks but rafe still thought of you almost everyday, mainly when he was also high and couldn't get your shy face out of his mind

but now you had to go back to one of his wretched parties to get some more weed from him, walking in to find everyone sloppy drunk and partying, rafe said he would be here by now but he still hadn't shown up and you were getting more nervous by the second and just as you were about to leave a man leaned on the wall next to you

"you waiting for rafe"

"mhm"

"well he's not gonna be here for another 20 minutes or so,he's handling some business"

fuck why did this have to happen to you, why couldn't he just be here when you got here then you could've just been out by now but at least the man was here to keep you some company

"want a drink"

he held a drink out for you but you were a little nervous, having never have a alcoholic drink you were a little adamant on not drinking it but with some persuasion from the man you were chugging down some vodka that stung the back of your throat like hell

and somehow as the fucking light weight you were you got tipsy immediately, stumbling over your feet a little before landing in the mans are where you leaned in to kiss him for some reason still unknown to you (from now on you should be kept on a leash when drunk)

the kiss quickly turned into you pinned on the wall getting you necked kissed and littered with hickeys, your hands running through his hair, if no one was there i'm sure you would've slept with the man but luckily rafe showed up and pulled you from the man and into some room

"what the fuck y/n i don't show up for 20 minutes and you try sleeping with some random dude"

"m'sorry rafe i jus' feel so warm and fuzzy inside"

rafe was wondering what the fuck was wrong with you, but with a smell of your breath he could tell you were drunk, which means no weed for you

"what no, please i just need a little bit"

"you're drunk call an uber and go home"

"i lost my phone"

you were tipping and stumbling all over the place and rafe knew he would have to take care of you, picking you up and carrying you to his truck to drive you back to your apartment, grabbing your keys from your fumbling palms to open the door for you

"why don't you come in"

"nah m'good"

"that wasn't an offer"

you dragged him in and kissed him, rafe reciprocating a little rougher and deeper as you lead him to your room, continuing to make out on your bed, just as you begin to take your clothes off you fall asleep on his chest

"this fuckin' light weight"

each time rafe tried to move from under you you groaned forcing him to stay in that spot all night with you sleeping on his chest, he sorta hated it but at least he got to hear your cute sounds as he drifted to sleep

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

could I have hcs of koko and inui (separate) doing "after care" but in an SFW way for their spouse or partner after they've had a nightmare and woke them up or when they come home from a bad day at work or school pls?

Sure! I split them into Koko comforting after a nightmare and Inui comforting after a bad day at work!

Koko, comfort after a nightmare

Thinks he's the one dreaming at first, isn't sure what's going on when he wakes up to find you in the middle of a nightmare next to him. 

Holds your hand, lightly rubbing it to try and show you he's here, while he frets over whether he's supposed to wake you up or not. That decision is snatched away from him though when you suddenly wake up in a panic.

Immediately talks to you, trying to calm you down. Telling you he's right here and that you're safe etc.

Pulls you into his arms and just holds you as a way of comforting you. Encourages you to lay your head on his chest. (Even if you're crying and express worry over getting him wet, he says he doesn't care).

Tells you to talk about what happened if you want but won't push you if you don't want to explain 

He's very emphatic and understanding towards you while comforting you. But is also a bit upset himself, he just hates seeing you so upset.

Promises he'll protect you from whatever caused the nightmare, after all he sees it as his responsibility to keep you safe.

Waits for you to fall back asleep before letting himself drift off, still holding you in his arms.

Checks on how you're feeling the next morning too, even offers to take a rare day off from work if you feel like you need him around.

Inui, comfort after a bad day at work

You're not sure how he does it but you don't even have to say a word before Inui asks you what's wrong. He can just tell somethings up with you.

Asks if you want to talk to him about it. He's pretty adamant that you have to either talk to someone (even if it's not him) or write it down though. "You need to get it out or work through it in some way".

Offers to go "sort out" whatever has bothered you. He's more joking when he says this, trying to make you smile but if you said yes he'd 100% go and "sort it".

Asks you what you need from him (earlier in your relationship he was very problem solving oriented with this stuff but he learnt to ask if you wanted comfort instead over time).

He's very good at pep talks/ making you feel better about yourself. Will sit beside you, holding both your hands and looking into your eyes as he says how strong/ nice/ hard working you are. 

Also hugs you and reassures you that it's over now, the day is finished and whatever you had to do is finished. 

Hesitates slightly if you start crying but then runs off to grab tissues and dries your tears for you, while encouraging you that it's ok.

Either offers to make your favourite food for dinner or offers to take you out. Let's you choose a movie to watch if you guys are staying in (even if it's one he hates). 

The next day, before you leave he tells you to call him if you have any issues today and he'll come straight over.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.75)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Getting you home and into the nest before your heat hits proves to be a bit more of a challenge than Namjoon anticipated.

Tags: forced caretaking, slight loss of autonomy, feral omega's, m/c acts a little violent at the beginning, biting, blood, brief blood play, kinda inspection kink if you squint, body worship, preheat, non- sexual nudity, cramps, scenting, nesting, mindless fluff, hurt/comfort, omega/omega content, possessive behavior, omegaspace, yoongi has slight self-esteem issues, discussed past abuse but everything is better, manhandling,

W/c: 13.7k

A/n: I feel guilty because i had to snip this chapter in half because there was simply too much stuff going on in my life at the moment and i didn't want to go more than a month between updates. on the bright side i will try to get the second part out quicker, and i will also be very drunk at a engagement party when this is posted <3 gotta love that for me.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Yoongi stands on the porch, watching the street.

The warm air tickles the hair on his forehead, bringing with it the familiar smell of ocean brine and a faint daffodil from across the street. The streetlight isn’t bright enough to cast them into anything like color, but the smell remains- still it’s not the scent that he’s looking for. The scent that Yoongi’s body hungers for.

That’s why he looks into the street, looks to the end of it where the tallest streetlights glimmer lighting up the concrete and the stop sign.

Looking for you and coming up empty handed.

His heart beats hard at the passing headlights of every car. Every thrum of wheels against the ground makes his body perk up. And every car that passes without turning in makes his hopes come crashing down. Like a seesaw, up and down. Like the ocean's rising tides reaching for the shore and finding it always a little out of reach.

Logically, Yoongi knows they have at least another hour, but it's hard to tell his instinct that- to detangle the fear in his chest and make something useful of it.

2 hours ago. That’s when he called you. Panicked and nervous about ruining your vacation- only to greet similar panic down the line.

Yoongi had been right earlier. Yoongi doesn't know if he feels vindicated or sick with worry. Self-assured or absolutely terrified. He’d been right, but he hadn’t believed in himself. He'd known and yet he hadn’t done anything about it, hadn't put his foot down or kept you home and kept you safe. you are halfway across the state where he cannot help, cannot touch you, cannot ease this pain.

All because he didn't speak up. All because he was trying to be a good mate and was trying to let you make decisions for yourself. something in him, deep and dark and hungry, says 'See, this is why she needs you, see? This is why you should be more firm. The others are allowed why not you?

Yoongi quiets the voice but does not stop feeding it. You'd sounded so small over the line, your voice so quiet and so tired.

Jin’s loud shouts punctuate the night-time quiet. The interior of the house is similarly a place of worry strife and instinct as night falls. Yoongi can just barely make out Jin's words as he barks orders at Jimin and Tae to move it this way no move it that way. A distant laugh is a balm to Yoongi’s nerves. Drawing a smile to his lips even now. Even bratty, even in pre-heat the pack still clamber to do everything their pack omega asks.

Yoongi isn't just worried about you, he's worried about Jin too. Any other time he would be inside and helping Jin make the heat nest. holding him and easing away his instincts, making him calm in the way that the others- not even Jungkook- can.

But this heat is not going to be like the others.

The pack has never handled two heats at once before. Two ruts? Sure. That happens more often. Jimin and Tae go in spits and spurts, in sync one rut and then out of sync the next. But Yoongi has a feeling that everything is about to change. It's not abnormal for an alpha to skip a rut or an omega to skip a heat with the addition of a new packmate. But this? Two omegas in heat all at once?

Yoongi feels more than a trickle of fear.

Nesting instincts are an endless chaffing in pre-heat. The last time Yoongi dared venture inside the house Jungkook was dragging the bulk of the pack's nesting material into the basement to wash it preemptively. By now they're probably already drying. Probably being dumped warm on top of the broody pack omega inside, enough to placate him temporarily.

"What did you do with my pup! Nest theif! I want my pup"

Jinnie sounds close to tears, Jimin's low voices must not be soothing because Yoongi hears a hiss and a the telltale thump of a pillow thrown against a door. Yoongi winces.

He hopes Jin doesn't hit a window. He's got frightfully good aim, so there's a good chance he won't actually try to destroy the house.

If they’re lucky they’ll have another day before the heat is in full swing. If they're not lucky it will hit by tomorrow morning. Regardless of when it actually hits. The pack has another hour before they have two cranky omegas in pre-heat, and that's more than they could hope for.

Yoongi should be doing prep work. He should be cutting up fruit or putting in another food order for tomorrow morning (that was the first thing he did after getting off the phone with you). It's too late to sneak away to the store; Jin's instincts might take it as a threat and make his heat come quicker to keep Yoongi close by. Yoongi should make sure that the pack has enough protein bars and easy-to-eat things for you and Jin.

Your body not being strong enough was the whole reason why you never went into heat in the first place- making sure this doesn't strain you too much should be his primary concern.

And yet, all Yoongi can do is look out at the driveway and wait for you to come home. Watching the darkness for headlights like people check the night sky for shooting stars and eventual wishes. There are things to do and meals to cook, nesting material to gather and wash. But Yoongi is still as a statue, standing watch and keeping guard. Shaking just a little- although he's not sure if it's nerves or just the cold.

(Frozen in fear, absolutely scared shitless, body a mess of misfiring anxiety and worry. Breathes coming quick. Goosebumps. The idea of every little bad thing that's ever happened to you that could continue to happen. Hurtling down his train of thought like a runaway car. Endlessly hurtling in a single direction towards a singular direction.)

Thank God it’s just you and Jin. If Jungkook went into heat too- who knows what the pack would do.

Yoongi’s fingers continue their drumming on the banister, Yoongi watches the moths flutter around the streetlight in the center of the cul-de-sac.

The door behind him opens letting the sounds from inside spill out onto the porch. And Hobi who has narrowly escaped Jin’s wrath with a fresh-looking pink hickey on his throat.

Yoongi wouldn’t be surprised if everyone inside wore his mark, it’s likely they’ll wear it before the night is through. Jin’s snappish reply of. “No- not there Kookie- here- like this-”

Yoongi winces. And tells himself that whatever scratches are left on the floor from them rearranging furniture will be worth the effort it eventually takes to buff them out.

Jin is a bratty commander when it comes to making a heat nest, they’ve been working on it for the better part of the last few hours. Making it perfect- making it for you. Everyone knows that Jin won't stop until you're home. You're to be the finishing touch, the last and most important addition.

Hobi stands in the doorway for a second calling yoongi's name softly. The sound is honey-soft in the nighttime quiet. Yoongi's teeth worry away at his lower lip.

Yoongi doesn’t turn, Yoongi can’t turn away from the street, even as Hobi comes up behind him and sets a warm palm on his shoulder.

“If you won’t come inside, will you at least put on a jacket?”

Yoongi doesn’t want to, if only to punish himself with the chill in the air. You must be cold too- an omega in heat outside of a nest and without enough packmates to help you regulate your body temperature seems so neglectful.

He doesn’t respond, but a few seconds later a thick blanket that smells of Jin hyung (overly sweet, overly syrupy even to Yoongi’s dull nose) is placed around his shoulders. When he turns away from the street for a second, Hobi grins a little nervously.

“It was the only way I could get him to agree to let you stay outside.”

Yoongi bites his lip and doesn’t speak- feeling like if he does something embarrassing or scary will happen (or both). Hobi nuzzles into the side of Yoongi’s face, ignoring the way that Yoongi subtly shifts away. All too aware of Yoongi's predicament. Does Hobi know how unworthy he feels of the touch? That he feels he doesn't deserve the comfort?

Stepping up close behind until he can feel the alpha’s heat behind his back. Hooking his chin over his shoulder and nosing into his throat. Yoongi knows his scent smells sour and salty, knows it but Hobi doesn't recoil.

(The monstrous thing in Yoongi's chest that wants and wants and wants does not get room to move around, mostly because Yoongi does not feed it. He keeps his ego and his arrogance on a tight leash, a leash that your love holds the other end of. A many-headed dog like Cerberus guarding the underworld. Yoongi's desires and you. Two similarly sinful pursuits on either side of the scale judging Yoongi neither monster nor man).

Yoongi doesn't know what's wrong. Is this what the heat feels like? Coming down the mating mark?

“Are you okay?” Hobi asks, even though he must already know and can certainly scent it on him. Yoongi doesn’t look at Hobi, worried he’ll break if he does. “You can tell me you know? It's okay I'm-" I’m her person too, I’m worried too.

Yoongi could let it go. Yoongi could say nothing and he knows that Hobi would let him- but- but-  

The words come out all at once, scared and quick. Yoongi is so scared and he doesn’t know what to do. Yoongi is a mess of emotions, some overlapping and some contradictory. He's feeling so many things at once and all he can do is stand here and watch the fucking street.

“I don’t know how to do any of this.”

Yoongi turns back to look at Hobi anxiously. “Jin and Jungkook- that’s different. That you know I’ve done before but-” Yoongi hesitates. “I’ve never helped her through a heat before and Jin is so particular. What if she- what if I'm not-"

Yoongi takes a shaky breath. What if she needs more than I can give her, what if she doesn’t want me to touch her. What if we’re not back there yet. I've treated her so poorly the last few weeks. I'd understand. I'll have to understand if she says she doesn't want me.

Yoongi's instincts rage, Pacing the inside of his mind like a trapped zoo animal. A monster that's never allowed out, aching to stretch its claws.

Ruts and heats have a way of bringing out your hidden wants and desires. The things you’ve been holding back, and what you haven’t said.

There are other reasons why omegas usually mate alphas. The fact of the matter is that Yoongi might not be able to sate you in the way that matters.

It's simple biology; Yoongi does not have a knot.

Jin and Jungkook don't calm until they get one and neither does their heat fever. A heat fever is something that can actually be dangerous for Jungkook and his seizures. He doesn't usually have them during his heat, but the few times he has have not ideal.

Yoongi's usual job during heats is not the same as Hobi, Jimin, or Namjoon and Tae. Yoongi's there to settle, to ease. Usually, he's the only scent that the omega can tolerate during pre-heat. The only scent that doesn't bring about headaches and nausea.

But he can't even do that right, smelling sour as he does and miserable with you so far away. Yoongi has never wished he was born an alpha, never, but it’s hard not to wish it just a little right now.

As if on cue, deep in the house Jin snaps at Jimin harshly. “Not there, please don’t put it like that Minnie- Minnie- stop.”

And then the next minute Jin goes back on it as if recognizing his harsh tone. turns from angry to teary and overwhelmed in an instant. “I’m sorry Minnie I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“It’s okay hyung. Just tell me where it needs to be.”

Understanding and allowances are offered to omegas in pre-heat. Jin's instincts are probably making him feel ten times as worse than anything said in the pre-heat of the moment could. The pack won't take anything said personally.

But you might if Jin snaps at you. Yoongi knows it might actually hurt you. You're sensitive like that. Delicate. Too delicate to be going through your pre-heat in a fucking moving car. Yoongi's stomach lurches at the horror of it.

“I’ve kept my distance but now-”

“And now you feel like that might bite you in the ass because you’re not where you should be to help her with her heat.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi’s eyes are glassy in the light of the streetlight.

“I’ve never helped her with this before. I don’t know what she likes or what she doesn’t, I don’t know where the boundaries are and I’m really-” he takes a steadying breath, “really used to that.” This is one of the few things that you and Yoongi have yet to go through. That he has yet to understand about you.

Hobi swallows, “This is new for all of us then.”

Yoongi glances at Hobi's face, letting out another breath; less shaky. Hobi looks out at the street. He doesn't look worried; he doesn't even look nervous. Hobi has every reason to be a little bit tentative around omegas and their heats and he can count the number of times you've had sex on both hands. But if he's afraid or unsure, he doesn't show any of it.

“It’s okay not to have all the answers. It’s okay to be scared and worried. If you wanted to not help-" Hobi sighs, "I don’t know."

Yoongi shakes his head firmly the second Hobi voices it. “No, I want to. I’d never ever do that to her. Never. It's just scary.”  I’m just scared. Yoongi’s arms are wrapped around his body, but his hand hovers over his hip, and Hobi notices for the first time how he’s cradling it.

“The mating mark- it’s so tender. It actually hurts right now. I think it’s telling me I need to be close to her.”

With alpha's and omega's who are mated, a mark often means that one heat triggers a rut and vice versa- or at least false heat and false rut. Hobi is unsurprised that Yoongi is feeling at least something.

“I’m sure she wants to be close to you too hyung.” Yoongi’s eyes go darker and it’s like he’s not sure if he really believes him. He doesn’t want to call Hobi out on placating him. So instead- hoseok changes the subject.

“What does the mating mark feel like?” Hobi has never asked. Yoongi goes quiet, palm lays flat over Hobi’s chest not exactly over his heart but close to the bone. Where Hobi’s ribs and all of him connect covered by a thin layer of muscle and skin.

For a second Hobi would swear he feels some horrible terrible ache.

“It feels like there’s an emptiness here, an emptiness so hollow that it hurts. It’s like a scab you want to pick or an itch. Not a wound but something different. It's like needing to breathe and holding your breath. Like being hungry only you can’t eat. Like wanting to sleep but you can't dream. It's like that, all at once and all the time.” Hobi’s breath hitches, bones and body expanding against Yoongi’s touch. “And it only goes away when she’s next to me.”

Hobi’s eyelashes flutter, “Namjoon and Jin, and Tae and Jimin- when they-”

“Oh, they’re gonna be fucking ridiculous, absolutely impossible. Jin isn’t gonna let Joonie out of his sight. I think Jimin will go legitimately crazy too- if he's not already. It was a lot worse at the beginning. Even her sneezing felt scary, like leaving the room for a tissue was gonna take all of me with her."

Yoongi and you don't talk about your beginning often- those few months that you both lived in this house and adjusted to each other without the pack. Hobi’s hand settles on the back of Yoongi’s neck, and it's like he can touch those moments like this, run his fingers along the strings of fate that have bound you and Yoongi so close it's hard to detangle either of you. He can feel your name in every pulse of Yoongi's heart, the rhythm and the melody to his being.

Maybe it's a good thing this wasn't me, maybe it's a good thing that I never had this choice Hobi thinks. Although there is still time- Jungkook doesn't want to mate- and the pack already has it's decided pairs. Hobi might not want it to be anyone but you.

Who knows who he might have become. What he might have done as your mate. Yoongi has never second guessed himself for Jin or Jungkook's heats before.

Yoongi does not growl and snap his teeth at the shadows. Yoongi doesn't even pace, he just stands and waits.

Hobi pulls him to rest back against his chest and Yoongi goes quiet. And when he looks up, he looks so scared, so young and Hobi knows he’s just terrified. Hobi presses his face into the side of Yoongi’s neck, nuzzling against his scent gland in little circles. Rubbing cheek to cheek to soothe his anxious scent, not all the way but just a little.

Hobi might be making things up, but for a second- it almost smells like Yoongi’s a little sweeter- smelling a little muskier, whatever part of his body that is bonded to yours already adjusting for the necessary stress of the next few days. Mate’s bodies are so perfectly in sync.

“You’re her mate,” Hobi says it like that’s all there is to it, voiced hushed and reverent with the truth of it.

“But what if I'm not enough and I want to be enough."

“You have a pack- you’ve got us. It’s not just on you anymore.”

Yoongi’s heart is thudding so fast, that he feels like he can’t tear his eyes away from the driveway. It will be a few more hours still until you and Namjoon get home.  

Until then, the two of them stand there and wait. Yoongi tips sideways until he’s leaning into Hobi’s chest and Hobi's hands hold Yoongi up, carry the weight of his body. That at least, he can carry.

~-~

The drive home is long and uncomfortable. Several times you double over, curling up in a ball in the front seat, the cramps racking through you violently and without pause.

Everything presses into you, the seatbelt, Namjoon's scent. The distance between you and the house, you and your nest, you and the pack. Everything is an oppressive weight pinning your breath in your chest and making you breathe quick.

Namjoon’s hands stay on the wheel, the back of your neck sometimes. His palm is cool against your clammy skin. Soothing you with grumbles and words of encouragement that do little to actually help the pain. After an hour or so, Namjoon just can’t stop saying, “I’m sorry.” over and over again.

You don’t stop you drive straight through, skirting traffic and long stretches of brake lights that seem to stretch on for miles and bleed into each other. Irritating your eyes and making you close them. Your skin is so oversensitive that every place it touches your scratchy sweater or the leather seat feels like too much, the sensation too vibrant and intense.

You wish Yoongi was here, his clothes are always so soft, and his hair and his skin too. You wish you had his scent on you and not Namjoon's- the thoughts makes you feel so guilty you dare not voice it.   

And then the nausea starts and you have to turn away from Namjoon at every available opportunity so that you don't vomit. Especially when the car lurches. You have him crack the windows and then open them fully the worse it gets; you dry heave out the open window.

“I’m sorry Joonie I don’t know why I'm,” Your face leans against the open door, sweaty somehow but still cold regardless of Namjoon’s jacket over your shoulders and the heat pumping from the vents.

“It’s alright pup, it’s okay, you don't need to apologize. Jin gets this way too.” You couldn’t even pinpoint what was so wrong in his scent if you wanted to but the curdling nature of his liquor in coffee makes you feel like you’ve just taken a dozen shots on Christmas Eve. You feel nauseous, teary-eyed, and upset. Something clawing at your chest that hurts more than anything else.

You must fall asleep at some point, or fall into a stupor because you feel it in your bones that you’re home before Namjoon even fully comes to a halt. Eyes still shut but blood singing and heart beating quick. You hear it, the whisper of your mate’s scent in the air. Maybe someone actually says your name, maybe you hear it from far away.

Your fingers fumble on the door handle and you don’t even have your eyes open as you tumble out of the car. The car lurches to a stop the same second you try to get out, dizzy and off-kilter, trying to get your feet under you while vertigo makes the world spin, the streetlight, a figure silhouetted against the porch light runs to you.

You see him in double vision.

“Pup- Don’t-" But Namjoon is too late to warn you and You fall out of the car onto the gravel.

The momentum of the car takes you, banging into the door first with so much force that it's jaring before you crumple onto the gravel where it digs into your hands sharp. Painful.

But you hardly feel it. Your hands are suddenly slippery with something you can't see. Something you don't care about because you just need to get inside, you just need to get to the figure running towards you. Seeing double- are there two people running towards you or just one?

Dizzy, you are so dizzy and you actually are going to vomit. No sooner have you wretched onto the gravel below you than is someone picking you up, and you actually do let out a high-pitched keen.

His hands are under your arms, the light from the porch casting his face into shadow chiaroscuro, but you'd know him anywhere. If not from his scent or the fluff of his hair then by the way your heart sings when he touches you.

"I've got you, I've got you. Oh sweetheart, it's gonna be okay- i'm here."

Yoongi presses his face to the top of your head. And you grip the front of his jacket while he picks you up. His hand rubbing away the frustrated tears on your cheeks. Hands pushing back the hair from your sweaty face, your flushed cheeks.

And then your hand comes up to touch his face, and both of you see the blood.

There is blood on your hands, on the side of Yoongi's face when you touch him.

Yoongi smells so good, so unbelievably good. Like sleep after sex, like chocolate ice cream in the middle of a summer night, so sweet and heady and musky you start to leak slick a little, Legs shaky. You don't care about the metallic cling of blood to the air. Everything else is unimportant but him and staying close to him.

You shrink away from the tall presence behind you, Namjoon bristles, and Tae is on the top of the steps watching you. Her voice almost hissed. "Don't do that again." Namjoon grips the back of your shirt, huffing a tired sigh.

“Don’t run away from us pup it’s not-”

But then He spots the blood, suddenly strong-arming his way around Yoongi to get to it despite your chirp of protest. Namjoon's hands are big where they clutch at your hands, his hair standing on end. There is another person behind Yoongi. You weren't seeing double.

“Not safe,” Jimin finishes, pulling Yoongi towards the house. And then the wind shifts casting the scent of blood to Jimin and his nostrils flare. His whole body tenses and a growl sounds out before he's even seen, looking down at your hand. Eloquent with his. "Oh- oh fuck- how the fuck did you even fuck up your hand like that?"

"Get her inside" Namjoon barks. His anger a wild thing in the darkness. Your sweet heat scent tangles with the smell of blood sets them all on edge.

"What?" You say, unsticking your tongue from the roof of your mouth, you don't like how cross your alphas sound, "What did I do?"

No one answers you, Yoongi curls around you as if he's trying to use his body to shield you from any prying eyes. Namjoon settles a hand on the back of Yoongi's neck and pushes him towards the house, towards the den, towards safety.

Your knees knock, and then give out. It's only through the virtue of having so many of them around you and Yoongi still basically holding you up that you don't fall over again.

"I'll get your stuff from the car."

"No- leave it Jimin just help me."

The sensations tangle. Jimin and Namjoon and their unhappy scents. Yoongi’s strong arms. Yoongi’s hands on you basically carrying you up and over the slate to the steps. Jimin is close beside him, You glance over Yoongi's shoulder at Jimin, watching his jaw roll. You turn your face away from him and his drawn expression. His stinky stinky vanilla and smoke scent- stale and grating- everything is too much too much too much.

"What's going on? Why can't I stand?" Even your own voice sounds far away.

"It's your blood pressure," Namjoon snaps.

Yoongi’s hard hands grip around your waist and when you pull back a little his dark hair catches the light from the streetlight and he ducks in close. Rubbing his chin across the crown of your head. “I’ve got you; I’ve got you, here- get inside.”

He half carries you half walks you back up the steps under the porch light. Tae opens the door for you huffing, looking tired, a ring of hickeys bitten into her pretty pretty collar bones. You want to rub your face into them and add your own marks but she also smells too intense to get too close. "Pup? What's-"

You push your face into Yoongi’s throat in reply, so close that Yoongi wonders how you must be breathing; all you’re inhaling is his scent. His chocolate is a balm to your heat-fried nerves. But Yoongi feels it too, the pressure behind his eyes, his teeth, itching for a bite to render you docile and calm.

You are losing track of the minutes and moments. You are in the kitchen and your hand is under the water. Yoongi is still holding you, and Namjoon is talking to you. Making you open your palm. You can't hear what he's saying.

You try and lift up your hands, but Tae doesn't let you take Namjoon's jacket from around your shoulders. Seemingly thinking the same thing that Namjoon and the rest of them are.

That you need to be minded. It's not too far from the truth.

Your anxiety and annoyance ticks higher as you look around. Has the house changed in the last 10 hours? Why do the lights feel so bright? There are bags and bags of groceries on the counter, sitting grey-yellow like tumbleweeds, half empty.

The couch has none of its usual blankets on it and it makes your nostrils flare- Jin had a nest there this morning- why isn’t it there? Where did it go? Who took it? Where is your pack omega? Why do you feel so annoyed? Why does everything feel a little bit off?

Where is Jinnie?

Namjoon touches your scrape and it stings. A piece of gravel thumps into the kitchen sink with a metallic plunk. The water stops going red and really- you can't even feel it. You try to tell Namjoon that- but he doesn't listen.

Namjoon is biting his lower lip to keep from yelling at you. Jimin is trying to keep you standing, but you seem more intent on leaning back into Yoongi's arms to press your face into his scent gland.

His hands cradle you, holding you over your stomach, nuzzling close. Closing his eyes hard before looking up at Namjoon, eyes swimming with guilt.

"I'm sorry. I should have been quicker," his hands are shaking where they hold you. All of you are that- shaken.

But blood first, pre-heat second.

"It's not your fault." Namjoon spits, wrapping your cut firmly. Gentle with how he holds you even if he holds you so hard you cannot do anything. Cannot squirm or move or wiggle your fingers. Like this, you can do nothing at all but be held and taken care of.

The gash isn't bad at all really, it doesn't need stitches, and it runs from the middle of your thumb just down to your wrist where it peters out. Clean and not bleeding clotting. You wouldn't know that with the way that Namjoon is crouched over that the way he stiffens when he cleans the dirt from it.

"I don't think her fingers are broken, fuck- do you think Jin would let me take her to the hospital?"

"You just got home Joonie-"

"I know but-"

Instead of wiggling your fingers, you flick water in Namjoon's direction. It hits his face with an audible plop and the pack alpha flinches.

The whole pack just stares at you.

Namjoon wipes the water off of his face, slow and intentionally with every movement of his body. You sense Namjoon's composure is about to slip. Good- you really want it too.

"See I can move my fingers!" You flick Namjoon again. Smiling a little, grinning, dopy and so high on heat hormones that you think it is funny. Flicking Namjoon to show your hand isn't broken even if your knuckles are a little scraped really- you'll be fine. They don't need to act like you're dying.

You try to do it again but Jimin grabs both of your wrists, holding you still. "That is the opposite of helpful." Tae snaps.

"Don't yell at me. I'm too tiny." you say, your voice that. Small.

Namjoon whips his hands on a kitchen cloth slowly. Staring you down without saying anything.

Yoongi runs his teeth over the back of your throat, hard, enough that you feel it, and it's like it unlocks your instincts. He's not sure why he does it- why you need the release of violence before your heat begins but you do.

Jimin and Yoongi Keep you in one place as you try to lunge for Namjoon. You barely even jerk in their firm hold. strong as they are. every one of them has more than half a foot on you- you'd never stand a chance really. Jimin holds you effortlessly- without even breaking a sweat.

Namjoon grips your face in his hands, and you almost want to hiss at him. Lip lifting in a soundless snarl. His voice is a gentle hush, a tone you are intimately familiar with.

The same tone of voice that has preceded every punishment and scolding you've ever received from the pack alpha. Every time he's ever coaxed you to take his knot (icky) or an orgasm (less icky). As he drags you close and speaks to you. Soft but firm. gentle but unyielding.

"You are allowed to be needy, you are allowed to be small. You are allowed to need everything and anything and I will personally make sure that each one of those needs are fulfilled."

You aim to bite him his hand, teeth clicking together, but Tae holds your jaw. Fingers digging into your lower lip. Making your lips push out. You push at them but they hold you still.

You like it. You like feeling your alpha's strength, your mate's strength. Where they begin and you end. You want to test it want to make sure they can protect you. Want to make sure they're worthy.

For what? You can't say. you think it might have something to do with the terrible sensitivity between your thighs, the bleeding hot need slowly gripping you, a distant storm rumbling. But you're not sure.

Tae keeps your mouth open and Namjoon taps his finger against your tongue, your lips, your teeth. Does he like how sharp they are? They feel awfully sharp in your mouth. Good omega, see? You want to tell him. Strong like you. Not a pup. You don't whine and recoil the way an alpha would at being poked and prodded at. You fight one moment then go pliant the next. letting him look, letting him touch and pinch your tongue between his fingers, loling it out and making it cute. tears building at the corner of your eyes by how frustrated you feel, how much you want.

"How cute" Tae coo's and you hiss at her- or try too. Namjoon's finger pressing against your tongue stops you from doing anything but whine.

Jimin smiles. Agreeing. "Cute little omega, acting like an alpha."

Tae lets you go after she's sure you're not going to try and bite Namjoon again, You grin at him, bearing your teeth. Behind you Tae stresses, concerned at how far you're trying to push Namjoon.

"Pup-"

"No, let her hiss." Yoongi's voice rumbles behind you. You let it out and although you mean it to sound threatening, it's more a tiny kitten than a powerful jungle cat. As loud and as menacing as you can make it but still- awfully cute. Tae hides her smile behind a hand and behind you, Yoongi rolls his eyes, all fond. He sort of wishes he got that on camera.

Namjoon smiles gently. And you want to scratch it off his unnervingly pretty face. You try. But Jimin effortlessly holds your wrists.

Namjoon taps your nose and you jerk- trying to fight them but getting about two inches before both your mate and Jimin have you completely immobile.

Some part of you loves being held and controlled like this and wants to purr instead of hiss. Your mate and Minnie are so strong- they hold you so well. It makes you feel all fuzzy and floaty. Like your anger and body is a separate creatures.

"If she bites you, I'm not kissing it better."

"She's allowed" Namjoon is looking away from you and you don't like it- the pack alpha should be looking only at you. You are feeling too many things at once, so many. Angry at Namjoon and hungry for him. Annoyed by his presence but needy for his attention. "I bit her when I was in rut you know. She owes me a good nibble."

"Not gonna bite you-" you hiss while you struggle against Jimin's grasp, but he doesn't even have to fight to keep your hands from pushing at Namjoon. You want to push at him more- want to get him to lose control. "You're icky."

Namjoon laughs, and it only makes you more angry.

An omega in preheat bleeding is a creature of instinct. Your instincts can not sort through what you need and what you want. Why you're bleeding and why you're not in the nest. Confusing threat for care.

Namjoon doesn't even blink in the face of your aggression. "You're allowed to bite me and hiss and want to pick a fight- to test us- But what you are not allowed to do- not now, not ever, and certainly not in pre-heat- is jump out of a moving fucking car."

"Namjoon" Jungkook says from the doorway. Leashed anger in his voice.

The whole pack looks up at him and you break eye contact, breaking the spell on all of you- and you go from jungle cat to fluffy kitten in two seconds.

You forget Namjoon instantly at the sight of him.

Jungkook is there, Jungkook is there and he’s the only person besides your mate that doesn’t smell too much or too intense. You completely shift out of Jimin's grasp and the alpha lets you. Disregarding his anger too- as you should. He smells so yucky.

Jungkook does not smell yucky. He doesn’t smell like his unhappy rotten flowers- no- Jungkook smells so thick and happy you half expect your mouth to be stuck shut with honey when you open your lips and chirp. It sounds petulant and pupish even to your own ears, but Jungkook just smiles and bullies Jimin and Tae out of the way to get his arms around you.

Yoongi does not. But you wouldn't want him to anyway. He back hugs you, keeping your back pressed against his chest. Face tucked into your throat.

Strange. All of that was so strange. you're angry one minute then sweet the next. utterly pliant and a doll under their touch. scenting you this way and that.

You tangle your hand in Jungkook’s shirt and grab him, tug him close. Whining. The corners of his eyes crinkle. And you know all your fears of pushing this on them so suddenly are for nothing.

Jungkook bounces up and down on his heels- he smells sweet and excited. You’re so relieved when you see him that you actually start crying a little. “You saw me like literally 5 hours ago-“

“I know- but- but-”

Jungkook’s purring is loud and strong against your chest. A sound that shocks out of your own chest too. A special little omegan hello.

Yoongi’s hand settles on your back, one on Jungkook’s too. “Both of you need- we’ve got to-”

"At least wait until the blinds are shut before you start purring. Are you trying to announce to the whole world that you're-" Namjoon's worrying is cut off by Tae's hand on his arm, his shoulder? Your alphas ring you, keeping their distance only slightly. Over your head- Yoongi mouths 'leave it'.

The sound of Jungkook purring fills the air with his honey-golden scent. Makes you forget about the living room and your hand, and everything else that's wrong with the den slips away. It’s a sound you usually only hear in the nest, during the quiet of the morning when things are especially good and special.

He lets you rub your face into his chest until your nose is rubbed raw- you already feel raw, everything chafing. And you let out a happy little trill when he rubs his wrist along yours.

Behind you- one of your alpha's lets out a deep pleased growl. Someone says something that sounds like "Possessive little shit" pouty and grumpy that they didn't get to you first.

You sense that things are being said over the top of your head but you have neither the want nor brain cells to listen to them. Trying to press your face as hard as you can into Jungkook's throat. Into Yoongi’s, then back again.

Jungkook paws at your sweater, and you protest for a moment before you let him, tugg up the hem, not off, not yet. “It’s too scratchy” he nips at your throat, rubbing his wrist over your stomach at the same time. The pleasure-good-nest-Jungkook-omega of it makes your knees go a little weak.

Yoongi catches you and Namjoon jerks forward arms out. For all his snapping he is still the first person to reach to catch you. “Wait until she’s in the nest Jk here-” They puppet you- and you’re honestly more interested in pressing your face to his and Yoongi’s necks than helping them waddle walk you across the house.

Good- something nearby smells really really good. Not like Namjoon who smells too stressed, the scent of his displeasure a zing against your nose. Not like Jiminie who's all stinky, not like the touches of Taetae here. Her's is usually a scent that you love but now she smells so cloying you want to paw at your nose and get it out.

“Hobi and Jinnie are already in the nest-” Namjoon stoops to kiss Jimin's mouth, a quick peck that interrupts his words. “Koo was helping me cook and I think we've got enough food but-"

"That's perfect Mini thank you."

Jimin preens under the pack alpha's attention and you whine. On closer inspection Jimin and Jungkook and just about everyone is covered in bite marks ringing their throats. You know the shape of Jinnies mouth. The sight of them has you blinking, wide-eyed, an ache in your jaw that you don’t understand.

Pretty alpha’s you need to bite your pretty alphas- they’re just so yummy. Yummy but stinky. Maybe you can wait until after they shower and they stop smelling so gross.

Yoongi huffs, answering you even though you didn’t realize you were speaking. “You need to eat real food first,” you stay buried in his chest. Namjoon sighs.

They move you slowly through the house, stepping over curled-up heaps of blankets on the floor. Inelegant curls of fabric.

You know what they are- decoy nests. Meant to distract any potential alphas or predators from finding your real nest. A behavior that like the purring and chirping, is vestigial. You know your alphas are strong enough that they’d never dream of letting anyone into your den.

Luckily, they're not any of your usually favored nesting materials- the blanket that’s just a slightly displeasing shade of chartreuse here, the one that has too thick seems here. You don’t mind them, something about the sight of them makes the last of your anxiety dissipate.

You can only imagine Jin feeling what you feel- the anxious ever gripping anxiety of an unseen threat, not having Namjoon nearby must have done a number on him. You love him, even if you wanna bite him. You tell him that.

"I know- Just-" he grumbles. Admits, "love you too."

You won’t be confused; you know your pack omega wouldn’t want you anywhere else but in your real nest next to him. Jungkook and Yoongi steer you. Guiding you not to the nest upstairs but through the house past your and Yoongi's old bedroom. On the way past the door, namjoon checks the lock, making sure it's secure.

They take you through the house to the pack's old bedroom. What had been turned into a little extra shelf space for Tae’s collection has now been disassembled. Redesigned in Jin’s nesting fervor.

You don’t know how your alphas moved the shelves out because you thought you saw Yoongi bolt them to the studs. You have a sinking suspicion that they’ve put them in the room at the end of the hall- all of the clutter stuffed there to where it can’t aggravate the sensitive pack omega.

The nest almost takes your breath away. It's so perfect.

The floors have been laid clean; mattresses piled from wall to wall with only a small space of spare floor to step into the room. Every single pillow and blanket and what looks to be half of the pack’s wardrobe are piled in concentric circles.

It’s a good choice, to have your heat here. The walls feel so close and yet the ceiling doesn’t feel too far away, cozy and protected. The warm walls are shadowed by the lights above. The translucent curtains pool and hover like low-hanging clouds and keep the nighttime out. You're protected here on the ground floor and the alpha's won't have to go too far to get you food and pee and do whatever else they'll need to do while you're in heat.

The nest itself is so pretty that it almost brings tears to your eyes. There are pieces of you and the pack everywhere. Jin has thoughtfully lined some of your stuffed animals against the wall and Noodle's cat bed is tucked into a corner. Your big blue blanket- your favorite blanket- has been fluffed and kneaded in the center. The twin to it- Jin’s favorite- a thinner duvet that's yellow and rough and holey matches on the other side like two crescent moons.

Jungkook’s whole collection of throw pillows is scattered about- the ones with funny shapes and the velvet fur and fine silk fabrics. They build up the walls and guard the nest from the doorway. But the placement of them is a little off. Not like Jungkook hadn’t been caring where he put them, but like he’d been distracted. You can fix it later.

Blankets ring a wide center in heaps, dotted with the pack's clothing; your and Hobi’s favorite sweatshirt, Yoongi’s flannel, Tae’s delicate silk dresses (with holes bitten into them by the pack omega’s blunt little teeth). You can’t go more than a step into the room without disturbing it.

You stand in the doorway dizzy. It feels good, gets a weakness to your bones to be back here. In this room back where it all started, the first room that you were ever Jin and Namjoon’s. You remember being so shy and unsure looking across the hall and wondering what it would be like to enter as a lover. You remember wondering if you’d ever feel welcome- if you’d ever be welcome.

Now you don’t have to wonder, you feel the rightness in your bones when you look at it.

Your blood sings, your heart beats quick. Instincts screaming good here safe, pack omega pack omega pack omega.

Jinnie.

Jin looks like he’s not as pleased with how the nest has turned out; quite the opposite. If you had to choose a word to describe the pack omega you’d choose scruffy.

He looks like Noodle after a bath and a blow-dry. None of his carefully curated edges are intact. He’s underneath the windows on his knees. A bit of stubble on his chin, his cheeks and under eyes puffy. A determined look in his eyes as he sets about fluffing one of the duvets. Curling it, winding it with another to make a structurally supportive border, delicate. His hair half pushed up by the back like he’s been rolling around in the nest to make sure it's properly scented. 

Jungkook’s hand settles on the back of your neck, and Yoongi’s fingers brush your palm. Jimin and Tae watch from a distance, they know not to come any closer- after already having had their heads bit off for even daring to pass by and double-check that Jin’s okay, that he’s gotten everything he needs.

Namjoon's eyes are honey pools as he watches Jin, a soft growl building in his throat. Pretty pack omega, mine, my lovely little Jinnie. Namjoon's blood sings with the urge to protect, the need to provide and keep safe.

After substantially ordering the lot of them around and nibbling them until the hunger in his chest quieted. Jin had promptly banned them the alpha's from the nest until you had a chance to alter it.

But Jin didn’t need to worry. It’s perfect. You don’t want to change a single thing.

(Well- logically- Noodle's nest should be by the door so that he can escape when he needs to. You don’t think you should allow him to use it while the heat actually going on...but it would be nice if he wanted to cuddle in pre-heat).

For all of his fussing, Jin doesn’t immediately notice that you’re in the doorway waiting for him. Waiting for permission to enter his nest like a good pup. Teetering, swaying with the pack omega’s movements, eyes following his hands. A needy and petulant chirp building behind your lips that's hard to restrain.

Then all at once, a lump near the window moves- you’d thought it was just another pile of blankets but it’s Hobi. His hair pushed up and ruffled at the back like he’s been scented to hell and back. He looks a little chewed up, a little bitten, wearing a ring of hickeys around his throat that looks suspiciously like a collar. A big tank top that you’ve never seen him in shrouding his slender body.

He makes eye contact with you and your legs go wobbly again.

“Hyung.”

Jin’s head whips around, eyes narrowing the second he sees you. Lifting his lip in a greedy snarl that sounds suspiciously like “my pup.” and then he hisses, not at you but at the alphas behind you, lingering too close.

Jin lunges- pulling you swiftly into the nest, pulling you to his chest where his heart beats- rabbit frantic against your cheek.

You heave a sigh of relief.

“Nest thief, Pup thief, back-”

Namjoon lifts his hands, backing away. Jimin too, his non-proverbial tail tucked between his legs. Tae does her best not to let the rejection show on her face.

“Sorry Jinnie.”

“Sorry, love you, won’t come in again”

"Call us if you need anything!" They slink away down the hall as Yoongi gently lowers himself onto the edge of the nest and lets you shuffle forward, stifling his laughter. Jungkook flops down, pulling a pillow to his chest and sitting criss cross.

"You tell em babe." Jin's hiss peters off. nosing through your hairline eagerly. Sitting in his lap sideways as Jin clutches you to his chest. “Nest thief?” You parrot, a little dazedly, a little quiet as Jungkook starts to pull at your sweater. Pouting at it.

“This is too scratchy for the nest.”

Jin noses along your shoulder, big and imposing and all right there. he recoils when he tries to rub his cheek along your shoulder. The scratchy texture that assaults his senses. Agreeing with Jungkook's assessment that your sweater is too scratchy. biting and nipping at the collar before he pulls back.

"What is this?" he hisses, grabbing the sleeves of it. Yanking at the fine wool and pulling the stitches loose.

"Joonie's. I was cold."

Jin shrivels his nose. "Alpha knows nothing about nesting."

"You know nothing John Snow." Hobi parrots and Jungkook rewards his shameless meme reference with a pillow to the face and a grin. You hardly notice them roughhousing, careful as they are not to disturb the nest too much.

Your pack omega looms over you, puppetting you until you're spread out. Ignoring your weak whines to stay close. jin's hands and gaze go hungry as he noses along the side of your neck to the hollow of your throat. down. check- he needs to check and make sure that no one got to you- that the icky icky nest thief did no damage. (You have a feeling Jin's also checking to make sure that he left you un-bred.)

Your pack omega is so much stronger than you- a few bratty wiggles do nothing to stop him as he examines you, lifting each of your extremities up to nuzzle and inspect and scent. giving particular attention to your stomach. Yoongi shuffles over, laying a hand flat there.

"Good tummy?" you ask, shy and small. An omega's tummy is always particularly sensitive even outside of a heat. Your shyness now has nothing to do with your body and the state of it. Nothing to do with your weight but everything to do with the fact that Jin and Yoongi are touching the place that the alpha's will breed later. Cradling and being delicate with your hips and stomach. Soft and vulnerable. strumming his fingers over the fine hairs reverently.

You wouldn't let any of the alpha's outside touch you there, you might not even let jk touch. Only your mate and pack omega are allowed, are safe enough.

Yoongi ducks low to peck your nose. you wiggle happily at the sensory pleasure of it, hiding your face in your hands because your emotions are too much. You're too happy, the way yoongi's looking at you makes you feel too much love- your chest might burst with it.

"Best tummy" he corrects you.

Jin continues his check of you, touching everywhere he can get too. stripping off your socks and tossing them into the hallway. Fingers running over everything. Your hips your sides your stomach. You wait with baited breath for him to notice and when he gets to your hand and nuzzles into the gauze- his eyes shoot open and He snarls.

Distantly down the hall, you hear, "That wasn't us!"

Jin nuzzles into the bandage on your hand, lip lifting at the smell of blood, upset, near sick with worry as he pulls back to look at you. eyes starting to swim with tears. "Hurt- pup hurt."

You quiet Jin's tears with a nuzzle into the side of his wrist. The urge to bite down, to mark him, is almost overpowering. "Alpha made it better, alpha almost let me bite him." You're sort of giddy with it.

Jin grumbles. Cheek rubbing against your hand, aching dully just like the quiet pitter patter of your heart.

"Nest thief, icky alpha," Jin hisses.

"Icky." You agree.

"Hurt?" Jin asks, laconic and speaking through one-word phrases, but the sight of you in pain has Jin coming back to himself just a little.

"No worse than my cramps." You squirm, and Jinnie holds you closer. hands loop around your waist, hovering on your stomach in a different way. Protecting where you're sensitive with the wide splay of his palms. But there's nothing he or any of them can do.

"How's yours?"

Jin sighs and rubs his cheek along the top of your head. Flopping over and curling around you. done with his inspection of you for now. "Coming and going. Not bad."

Yoongi huffs, combing a hand through your hair then Jin's, Both of your bodies are boneless temporarily, relaxing- with no intention of moving or fluffing the nest.

Yoongi pecks your head and then Jins and then starts to get up. "I'll get the heating pad" he depresses the nest under his feet. And no- that's not right.

Yoongi is so special and soft and yours. He can't leave the nest now, not when you've just gotten here. One of the alphas can go get it, you don't want him to leave the nest. You perk up, pulling yourself onto your knees- even that level of movement makes you dizzy.

You don't know why, but the thought of Yoongi leaving the nest is terrifying. Makes you so scared you feel like crying. Adrenaline pumping until you're scrambling for him, grabbing the hem of his sweatshirt, pulling it until he stop. Swiping and grabbing at Yoongi's sweatshirt. Pulling at the hem of it.

He looks back, looks down at you, eyes a little wide. lips parted, as your eyes slowly go glassy. Filling with tears.

Behind you, Hobi stifles his laughter. Jin just looks down at you, so much fondness in his gaze that it's hard to look at without feeling like Yoongi's intruding. Yoongi is not intruding. Yoongi could never intrude. You stare up at him and whine until he sits back down.

Yoongi still has blood on the side of his face, your blood. A faint splatter of it over his jaw where you'd cupped his face. Jin purrs and pulls the beta down to his level before he licks it off his cheek.

You blush, and Jungkook cringes. "Gross hyung."

"Can't- don't-" words are so hard for you to say in this state. All of the aggression from before melted away, and now you are gentle and small. You need Yoongi. You need Yoongi right next to you or else something terrible will happen- you're sure of it. You press your face into his throat and his hands come back up to hold you. Suddenly the urge to bite is there, but you don't, just nuzzle and crowd him.

He lets you, holding you when you get a bit too aggressive in your scent marking, and threaten to make both of you topple over. eyes wide with surprise.

You hum, satisfied, a purr starting up in your chest that has the air turning sweet where it had been tense. Pressing your face into his chest, body boneless and gravity doing its work as you search his body the same way Jin examined yours.

You find it the mating mark, nosing under the fabric until Yoongi tenderly cups the back of your head and pulls his shirt up. "There- better?" You purr and rub it up against your cheek. Sprawling in the nest. Your hair gets all messy as you push and push and push your face into his mating mark.

Yoongi smells so good there. The best. Sweet sweet sweet chocolate. you nibble a little at the puckered skin and are rewarded with a noise- half moan and half sigh. yoongi's thighs splay wide giving you access. He tucks your hair behind your ear and above your head, Hobi and he share a long special look.

You pull at his waistband and Jin stops your hand. "No pup, not yet."

"But- but-" your protests fall on deaf ears. Jin is so strong, picks up your hips and lies you flat. Hands continue their checking moving south regardless of your shuddery squeeks.

He tries to get between your legs, and Jungkook stops him. Jin goes at him teeth snapping. Jungkook just grins. "Cute hyung but no- you told me not to let you do that."

You kick your feet a little, but Hobi reaches over to grab your ankle. "Why? why can't we?"

Jungkook detangles you from Yoongi, from Jin, gentle and slow so that your instincts aren't triggered. directing your face up to where the air is clearer and guiding you to breathe until your mind clears a little.

Jungkook strokes over your throat, looking down at you. "Any sexual attention at all from any of us will make your heat come quicker. For the record I'm all for it- but the rest of the pack want your heat to be gentle."

The fact that they'd had a plan that you hadn't been apart of, makes you feel warm all over. And it has nothing to do with your heat. These things are just too big for you to grasp. So vulnerable and too pupish to make your own decisions. You don't even protest at what Jungkook says or try to deny it. you don't lie and say that you can decided for yourself how you want your heat to come.

This is why you have a pack, why you're at the bottom of the hierarchy. Why would you ever even need to make decsions for yourself? They know best.

A tightness in Yoongi's chest eases, just a little. Watching you and Jin and Jungkook interact with each other. You tense up, and your cramps, are suddenly there. Fingers leaving Yoongi in favor of cradling your stomach and whimpering. curling up quick.

Jin growls and tries to pry your hand away from your stomach. but Yoongi sets a hand on your back as you curl up. "Breathe deep for me sweetheart, breathe. You're doing so well." But there is nothing any of them can do but hold you through them.

Jungkook does not hop up, or hold you, just rolls until he's by the door, sticking his head out to shout down the hall, Jimin's head pops from around the corner almost immediately followed by Tae's. Both of them look pink-cheeked and red-lipped. (Jungkook knows how they are, how the scent of omega's in pre-heat riles them up.)

"Heating pad? For pup?" His eyelids flutter, and Tae watches him as Jimin jumps up, almost slipping into his socks on the polished wood floor.

"On it." 

Tae watches Jungkook intently before he slips back into the nest.

the cramp stops and you relax, uncurling yourself. Jin's thumbs rub over your belly, and you nuzzle into him. He lets you nuzzle into his stomach too. He's so soft here- so soft and plush and cozy, it's honestly unfair. You have to concentrate really hard to speak, alternating from pushing your face into Jinnie's tummy and Yoongi's hip. You don't really know why other than that you need to. 

"Are you? Close yet?"

Jin leans low to rub his chin over the crown of your head. His body isn't tight with cramps. Not like yours is. "No, but soon."

His eyes are wide and glassy, licking his lower lip. But Jin seems to come back to himself a little in the face of you in discomfort, the idea of his littlest pup in pain. “Do you want a fresh change of clothes? Some snacks? Yoongi brought some- so helpful.”

Behind you Yoongi blushes and Jungkook pinches his cheeks, your mate tries to swat his hands away. “Yah-”

It seems you're not the only one keen for a fight, between the two of them- Hobi and Yoongi get Jungkook just like you and Jin, sprawled in the nest and purring at a nip to his throat. You and Jin pay them no mind. their rough housing.

“Do you want some water, to eat? To sleep to-

You stop him, leaning over, pushing your face into his thighs, flopping over, cutting off his rabid train of thought. Resting your head on his lap. “Just want this, just need this.” You peek up at Jin, at his stricken expression. "Please?"

Your body is so tired you don't know if you could move if you wanted to. Finally- finally you're not too cold or too hot, just perfect, just right. Just fine right here. Jin threads his hand through your hair, hard, urging you towards his stomach.

He’s so soft and vulnerable there. You need to protect his tummy- make sure no one gets close to it who isn't perfect. The scent of Jin's slick is so distant to the urgency of protect pack Omega needs to protect that you don't even notice it as he sighs and cups the back of your head.

Hobi reaches over, to touch your head too but you growl. It's a squeaky sound, not at all as threatening as you mean for it.

His hand retracts quickly- you whine, petulant. “No- sorry I’m just-”

“Possessive” Jungkook says, touching your hips, your thighs, checking your temperature there, finding the skin hot and puffy. You sprawl out parting your tights for him to touch. Yoongi smiles, trying to hide it but failing.

“Yes.”

Jinnie Is mine. You want to say, want to say- but can’t do more than whine and growl and chirp. You're all mine, none of the alphas can have you- none of them. All mine. My nest. Omega made it for me so it's mine.

Jin’s hands run through your hair after a moment, combing through it and twisting it to keep it out of the way. Until all he’s teasing at are the baby hairs on the nape of your neck. Pulling at them softly like a lifeline drawing you out of your instincts. You keep eye contact with him, lucidity growing in each of you the longer you spend in each other's presence.

Jin and Yoongi make everything feel alright, makes everything not feel scary.

When you look back up at him Jin looks more lucid, more aware of what he's doing and who he's doing it with. A crinkle between his eyebrows that will make fine lines in a year or two.

You nudge against his palm; you don't have to ask more than that to get him to tell you what he's thinking

“I kinda thought that you might want a heat without all of us- just you and Yoongi- or at least one where we could take care of you.”

Jin’s cheek is chubby where his lips pout, you love it. It looks like a crescent moon. You want to bite it, his cheek, and feel the give of your pack omega under your teeth. Yoongi answers for you.

"No, of course not- you guys are-"

You curl up, your knees nudging Yoongi's back, dragging him closer to where you and Jin are cuddled.

“I’m not going to be able to take care of you quite as well as I hoped. Your first heat won’t go like how I wanted it.” Jin’s voice sounds so sad, almost broken.

You and Yoongi immediately fold yourself close. You tangle your injured hand with Jin's gently. Yoongi leans in, pressing a kiss to Jin’s spine and the pack omega sighs at the sensitivity and soreness.

“It’s okay, you can’t control it and-” and it’s nearly better this way. You’re honestly so tired that you couldn’t even start to nest, and even if you could- you doubt that you’d be able to make a nest as lovely as this one. You say that- say it.

And Hobi fluffs up, keeping his distance after you growl at him. But he's there at the edge of the nest. Your eyes narrow.  “I told him to put up Christmas lights just in case.”

"Can I bite you?" Hobi raises an eyebrow at you. But you see the telltale way his cheeks pink up. "I need to bite Jinnie first, and then Yoongi, but after-"

A giggle shocks from your packmates but Jin just huffs at you, eyes melting away from frustration and into endearment. His scent is sweet and cloying milk.

"You mean you don't want me to leave?" Hobi asks slowly, carefully while Jin's fingers rub at your waist, under the waistband of your pants Apparently dissatisfied with them. Starting to tug them off until you're in nothing but your underwear. Jungkook takes them and tucks them into the outer layer of the nest.

"No? Why would I want that?"

Jin doesn't let you and Hobi hash it out yet, preoccupied with the idea of being marked and bitten.

He tugs you up and closer. Ushering you close to his neck and scent gland, puffy and inflamed just under his jaw. Face to face with it again you cannot make your mouth reply to Hobi's question, mouth-watering.

You nose at his throat for a second but then Jin's hands are pulling you closer and your mouth parts against his skin. You suck and suck and suck, Jinnies scent gland is so squishy beneath your teeth. The skin is sweet.

You lose yourself a little. Going needy and clingy, hand tangling with the front of his shirt. You feel his sigh, his relief at having you close. The give under your teeth that states an unfurling hunger in your chest, the kind of hunger that's starting to burn.

"My little omega," he croons, running a hand over the back of your head while you suck to your heart's content. Your heart rate slows a little. Thudding loud in your ears. A finger nudges your cheek and you growl. Jungkook just laughs at you.

By the time you pull back, you're dazed and every breath is Jinnie Jinnie Jinnie. Jin's throat has several small marks on it, little and pink. The pack omega smells so good, so soft and good. love Jinnie so much, just wanna stay next to Jinnie in the nest forever, and never wanna leave. Best nest, perfect nest for pups-

"Pups? You're pups." Jin pouts, cheeks pink, and you grip his shirt. The others are there and you'll mark them soon but you need to be done with the pack omega first. Need to mark him first before any of the alpha's so that they know he's yours, before he's theirs. Can't steal the pack omega away from you- you need him too much.

"Nest thief" Jin hisses, sitting up quick, and jostles you. Sending you out of your omegaspace because of the way you almost fall. Almost fall except for the way that Jin curls over the top of you and hisses in the direction of the doorway. And you sense a movement by the door, letting out a growl and wheeling, turning.

"I'm just dropping off some water." Namjoon says, retreating with open palms. the heating pad sits rolled up at the edge of the nest too. "Love you guys, goodnight."

"Nest thief?" You ask again. Still a little dazed. Still very out of it.

“Jin’s been calling Namjoon that. He’s angry that he stole you.” Hobi says, voice rough in the nighttime quiet. A laugh hovering on the edge of his words.

Any reply you could possibly muscle is quieted by Jin’s needy trill- the pack omega displeased that your attention is not on him, not focused on him. He pulls your sweater up and over your head to replace the scratchy sweater with a shirt. Formerly folded into the edge of the nest that smells strongly of Jungkook.

You hold your chest wearing no bra, just in your underwear, hiding from their gazes just a little. Although the pack knows your body better than you do- being nude still feels a little sensitive a little too much.

Yoongi wordlessly sets a hand on your thigh. Rubbing up and down your skin, soothing away your goosebumps with his warm palm.

You grimace at what Jin offers you.

“Jinnie- I love you, but I’m not putting on Jungkook’s used workout shirt."

Jin blinks down at what’s in his hands, lower lip wobbling. “but- but-”

Jungkook’s and Hobi’s chests are shaking with quiet laughter, and Yoongi smiles as he hunts through a nearby basket before peeling his own shirt off and tugging it over your head. "hands up" he says, and you obey him. kissing him on the way out, yoongi tugs your hair out of the collar, twisting it away from your face but not tying it up to sleep. The long fabric pools around your thighs. “There- is that better?”

Jin just looks up at Yoongi and purrs. Rubbing his face into your back. "best."

Jin tugs and you fall into a heap onto the nest. Pulled against his front. Jinnie is- Jinnie is so warm, the whole house and the ride over you’d felt so cold, and now- now you feel so warm. Jinnie’s body feels like sunshine pressed up against you.

You breathe in deep expecting everything to smell happy, but you freeze; Hobi smells sour.

You didn't realize it because he was covered, burritoed in, but as he pulls himself out from under the blanket to get a glass of water, it sends his sourness everywhere. Before anyone can stop you, you shuffle and flop over top of him. You whine, burying your face in his stomach. Keening high. Displeased.

Hobi almost spills the glass of water all over you but doesn't by virtue of Yoongi's steadying hand. “Jeeze, don’t get all teary-eyed on us.” You breathe in and out, blinking away your tears, Hobi’s hand rubs through your hair trying to soothe you. Yoongi takes the glass from him.

“Not crying cuz I’m upset, just-” You let out a frustrated noise.

Hobi’s eyes are dark with understanding. “I can get up and leave if you want I know that I’m not-“ an omega, goes unspoken, but your arms just tighten further around his waist.

You remember everything he’s ever said about his last pack- Moonbyul’s pack (you remind yourself as you have had too many times over the last few months.) How they’d never let him stay in their nests through their heats.

Unless they need to use him.

You have a lump in your throat thinking about that. a lump that feels like anger but can go nowhere but inward. You can’t imagine making him feel that way. Making him feel unwelcome.

The others aren’t allowed in the nest because your skin is too sensitive, too friable, their scents too pungent with wanting too easy to want. but Hobi’s scent is not as intense and not as irritating. Nothing about his caramel scent is yucky- just soft and subdued beyond the sourness there from nerves.

“Why don’t you smell-“ Hobi’s hands tighten on his forearms, and he closes his eyes, cringing as he waits for it. “bad like the others do? You don't smell awful like Namjoon?”

Jungkook huffs a giggle, but he's the only one. there is laughter coming fromt he hallway. Yoongi sighs, making eye contact with Hobi before he answers. Hobi bites his lip, looks like he’s about to cry, shuts his eyes shut tight tight so that he doesn’t have to watch your expression. You, the person he trusts more than any to understand this, to understand him.

“Most alpha's bodies react to an omega in heat- becoming stronger so that omega’s can find them once the heat starts and make it come quicker with their hormones. But Hobi’s body doesn’t have the same reaction anymore. Not even before you.”

Since the abuse. You read between the lines. the fact that they'd hurt him so bad, so bad that his body and his scent changed, that they'd altered him so- feels so unfair, that you can't change it- can't make it better.

You go still, looking back up at him utterly stricken by this information. Hobi holds out his arms. Thin but muscular looking. Strong even if his smile is fragile and tight.

"So Scent away pupcake- I'm not gonna make your heat come quicker."

You pull yourself over to him and rest there. Hobi's arms do not tremble as he hugs you, just briefly until Jin pulls you back to him. So that you're sitting in Jin's lap but holding onto Hobi. It's like they're playing tug of war with their favorite toy.

You like being their toy. You like being the lowest one in the hierarchy because it means you get coddled and controlled and treated like you're precious. You don't let Jin pull you back right away, looping your arms around Hobi's neck. Closing your eyes and thinking hard. Putting all your energy into imagining it.

You think of all your favorite things; Noodle and late-night drives, cuddling with Yoongi in the morning, and helping Tae with her makeup. The feel of Jimin's hand in yours. The way he's always watching, the way he's always checking. The sound of Jungkook's laugh and Joonie's kisses and when Jin asks you to nest with him.

You cuddle up in Hobi's lap and think of only happy things- so that you smell as happy as you can- just so that he knows. 

Hobi's breath is coming shaky and when you look up Yoongi's holding his face. Yoongi's thumb wipes away the wetness on his cheek and You rub your face into his throat the same way you did with Jin. Hobi smells soggy-sad-happy, like he's sad but it's healing.

It's late and everyone is tired, but certain things take precedence over sleep. You nudge his nose with yours, "Can I bite you?"

A laugh shocks out of his chest, a little relieved sounding. "What is it with you and biting?"

"You're very…" Your eyes flicker down his form, making him blush "Biteable."

Hobi tilts his throat, happy you can't feel his heartbeat, can't hear it going quick. "Go for it."

You tug at the collar of Hobi's tank top. You don't mark his throat next to Jinnie's marks. You leave your mark for the space just over his heart, small, you don't want him to feel the ache. You don't want any of this to hurt him.

Your teeth dig and hobi sighs, hand coming up to cradle your head. "You can take what you need- you can-" (Hobi tells himself that anyone alpha or not- would have the same reaction in their body at having a hickey sucked here, tells himself that the half chub in his sleep shorts isn't permission or a confession. Even if Hobi wants those things- wants this with you. His brain is all tangled, memories and wants and fears a dizzying combination that stops him from acting confidently)

When you pull back, you press your forehead to Hobi's. You know you won't be lucid for much longer. That if you go to sleep, you'll probably wake up in omegaspace and that will be it. But there are things you need to say to Hobi.

This is all still so new to him. All of this, the sex and the marking and the scenting. You haven't had sex with him enough, haven't learned him enough for this.

"I'm not going to be hurt, if you only want to help Jinnie okay? If you're not ready then I'm not ready." 

Hobi swallows hard, eyes glassy nodding. He can't say anything, can't open his mouth without crying so he doesn't. Can't do more but tangle his hand with yours and squeeze.

Jin pets through Hobi's short hair, purring deep and rumbly.

“See alpha- pup wants you- told you she would, told you she wasn't gonna want you to leave the nest” Jin croons, petting more and more as you bury your face in Hobi’s throat. You luxuriate in the feeling of having them close and heave the first easy breaths you have all day as Jin settles in close behind you.

Lying both of you down in the center of the nest. Pressing his face to your vertebra crowding you up against Hobi and promptly going to sleep.

Yoongi gets up and shuts the door and the light, saying something softly to someone in the hallway. Hobi falls asleep soon after Jin. Breath evening out and eyes fluttering closed. His hand is slackening where it's tangled with yours.

You’re a little harder to settle, you toss and turn, trying to get comfortable. Jin and Hobi quickly nod off but you can’t.

You stay like that- warm in between the two of them until another cramp hits you. You hiss, hands settling over your abdomen hard. You still- tremble through the pain, and dimly- you’re aware of Yoongi rubbing up and down your back.

“Do you need-” Your hand settles over his squeezing hard- not too hard, as you breathe heavily.

Once you stop trembling, Jungkook detangles you from Jin, the pack omegas fist tangled in your shirt to keep you close. “Come here.” he guides you to rest against his chest while Yoongi gets the heating pad set up. Clicking it onto the highest setting and putting it under your shirt. "I'm so sorry baby."

You shrug, "There's nothing you can do." Sniffling quietly, "s'not your fault."

“Do you think you can stomach anything?” You shake your head at that nausea rippling through you.

"I promise i'll eat more in the morning but my cramps- they’re too-” It feels like you’re carrying a rock in your belly, something heavy that you can’t put down, can’t do away with. Your organs tighten around that weight. A heaviness without name that comes with only pain and no satisfaction.

(Is this what reproducing is? Do you feel the weight of the lives you could carry before they come? Would this hurt less if you'd be a different sort of mother Or can the world feel how unequipped you are and how selfish you'd and is punishing you for it. You’re old enough to have a pup and yet- you feel so small, so unprepared, so childlike.)

Jungkook sets his hands on your stomach.

You open your eyes and look up at him. his dark hair that settles over his forehead like inky strands of night. Jungkook looks at you and you know that he knows. That he understands.

(Being able to have kids is more of an open wound that an advantage, you wish alphas knew that. It’s all a big question; to stem the wound or keep bleeding, to not bleed at all and count the lack of blood as payment. To tell yourself, I don’t want to be a mother anyway).

(But I wouldn’t mind having a family.) 

(you've already got one, and they're all around you)

Jungkook settles you back against his chest, and the warmth of his body pressed behind you instantly makes you feel better. Jungkook readjusts the heating pad, removing it from your front and placing it instead on your back, between your ass and his lap. The relief of it is instant. It doesn’t get rid of all the pain but heat is what you need.

You sigh against him, relaxing against his chest while your mate rubs at your hips, watching you, looking down at you. Then Jungkook’s fingers dig into your abdomen- digging in on either side of your hips and you almost keen at how good it feels.

You know he has experience, that he's learned from pt and the other personal trainers at his gym how to massage- how to get rid of aches and pains. you just didn't know heat cramps where one of the things he could help with.

The relief is sort of instant as he starts massaging up and down your stomach and sides. He keeps the pressure even and firm and it’s like he’s holding the weight between your hips.

You feel his breath against your ear, and he closes his mouth around your lobe sucking on it just a little. You're distracted by the way he holds you, holds all the pain, and tells you with his body that it's okay and you go boneless.

but Jungkook sucks his own mark into your throat, sucking at your scent gland until you go sweet and pliant.

He moves his fingers, going up and down either side of your stomach, digging close and low to your mound but it's not sexual. Not yet. Every moment of it eases away the ache.

Jungkook’s blunt omega teeth dig into the nape of your neck. His voice husky when he tells you to sleep. He’s so warm behind you.

Very very very warm.

You should bite him too, before the others have a chance to. The same way you did with Jinnie. You have to let the alpha's know that Jungkook is yours.

Before he gets any warmer.

That will have to wait until morning, Your body listens to his command. In the quiet darkness, Yoongi watches you and Jungkook, worry bleeding down his back. “Can you show me how to do that Koo? The cramp massage?"

Jungkook laughs, all fond, but lets the nighttime settle.

~-~

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Notes:

i think yoongi and his fears, touches on a little thing that all of us feel at one point or another- that we have no idea what the fuck we're doing with our lives. yoongi is a character to often rails against his own mythos- there is danger in being revered by the people you love. and i think in this moment- yoongi is worrying about living up to those expectations.

i played with the idea of making yoongi spank the m/c for her stunt with the car but honestly- i don't think he would ever willingly engage with physical punishment for her. i don't think he could physically raise a hand against her- i think his trauma would stop him big time.

this is another chapter where it felt like "bily is a story, less of a fanfiction" like this is a process and i'm bringing you all through it. it's less about getting to the end and more about enjoying the ride.

i wish i could accurately articulate the utter love and frustration in namjoon's heart when she's giving him the runaround- my boy is /stressed/ out about her in such a lovely way.

i did not originally intend for her to go so feral but...here we are.

honestly the way i wrote the part with jin nesting with the m/c was so hard to edit, i feel like it does not make a ton of sense what's happening but they're both in omega space so- it's not necessarily supposed to make sense.

the ending scenes where also hard to keep track of like- most of the time I love the way that the series shifts perspective from person to person- and it's one of the things I really think makes my writing unique- but dang even i got confused when i was editing asking myself "whose thinking and feeling this right now?" oh well- it's too late too change too much of it.

honestly when they're all in the nest- i really wanted it to feel like they where almost fucking- like- its so intimate even though no one is actually pleasuring each other it's like...sex without the sex almost.

the lines where the m/c is talking about reproducing...i'm working through some shit is all i'm saying. working through my own wants and figuring out if i even want to have kids, my cousin is really struggling right now and found out that she's infertile and it feels so like- yucky that i can have kids (probably i've never missed a period) but she can't and wants to when i can and don't want too. but also at the same time my family is falling apart at the moment so- i've got a lot of emotions and bily is how i catharsize them!