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choerypetal · 5 months ago

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Hickeys / Wade, Logan and Remy

summary: small prompts, on how the xmen boys would be when given hickeys.

ps; i apologies if there is a few grammatical errors, as english isn't my first language.

enjoy!

Wade:

That man can’t resist keeping you in his sight and making sure to give you at least a kiss, or some small gesture of affection, before heading off to work.

This means his lips would form an adorable pout as he insists on leaning in. When you give in, his lips curl into a smirk, and before you can protest, you feel his hungry kiss.

Of course, it doesn't end there. His fingers slide around your waist, gripping tightly as he pulls you onto his lap. "The boss can wait a little while," he murmurs, his voice rough and laced with a hunger that demands to feel his teeth on your skin. That's how his habit of leaving hickeys began. "Not until I'm done."

"Wadee," you tried to protest, glancing at the clock to remind him not to be late, but his priorities were elsewhere. You knew it when you felt his tongue tracing the crook of your neck, followed by the slow press of his teeth against your skin. He left a few more bruises, as if the ones from yesterday weren’t already enough for him.

"Shh…" he purred, his eyes darkened by lust and the passion in his voice. "I need to finish my little masterpiece." You rolled your eyes, letting out a slight chuckle, but before you knew it, a moan escaped your lips as he nipped harder with his teeth. "That's it, princess, I want to hear you moan," Wade whispered, the desire and need evident in his gaze.

He finally stopped, as always, to admire his work—several new hickeys on your neck. Just the sight of them made him bite his bottom lip. When your eyes met his, he leaned in for a sloppy kiss, leaving you breathless, with pouty lips and fluttering lashes. "Oh, so now the princess wants more? It's a shame I have to go to work. And so do you," he teased. Typical bastard, you thought to yourself.

Logan:

Unlike Wade, Logan isn’t the type to be vocal about what’s his. As the Wolverine, it wasn’t surprising when you ended up covered in hickeys. One time at the X-Men Labs, Logan immediately noticed a coworker checking you out. It wasn’t just the hickeys on your neck but also an outrageous comment that set him off. If those hickeys weren’t enough, you were in for a session where Logan would mark you as his—completely and everywhere. EVERYWHERE.

Naturally, he chose the Lab as the perfect place to do it. Despite his wild nature, Logan is surprisingly traditional, which might catch anyone, including you, off guard. But with his Wolverine instincts, he didn’t hesitate to grip your waist, pulling you up from your chair despite your protests, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist for support. "You really thought I’d let you leave work that early? That’s the kind of question that would make me feel ashamed, love."

Before you could say anything, his lips caught yours in a hungry kiss. His voice was hoarse, thick with the impatience and craving he’d been holding back all day—especially after seeing you with your coworker. When Logan’s jealousy flared, you knew there was no stopping him. “Logan…” you whispered, your soft, vulnerable voice a huge turn-on for him. He purred as he nodded at your call. “Yes, sweetheart?�� he murmured, his gaze never leaving you. “I need you, so bad…” Your confession was all he needed. He began by nuzzling his head against your neck, his teeth sinking in without hesitation.

The neck was just the beginning for Logan; he wasn’t satisfied yet. He needed more, which meant leaning you over your Lab desk. Your blouse clung to your curves as his fingers, both gentle and eager, began unbuttoning your jacket. The typical work attire—a short skirt, sheer lace, and a blouse that matched the color of your nail polish—was what truly captivated him. Even his own attire seemed to complement yours. One of the many things he adored about you, he murmured, “Man, you look gorgeous…”

“You don’t look bad yourself either,” you echoed the words you’d whispered when you first met Logan. He adored this gesture, finding it endearing. Just moments before unbuttoning your blouse, he asked, “May I?” with the gentlemanly demeanor he always displayed. You smiled and nodded in response. “Since no one else will be coming to the Lab, my body is yours, Logan.”

That response alone pleased the Wolverine. As his fingers delicately and slowly unbuttoned your blouse, he took a moment to admire your breasts, beautifully outlined by the cup of your bra, before nuzzling his head against your stomach. His teeth sank into your flesh, leaving more hickeys than he had originally intended. “Now, I hope this will stop your coworker from looking…” he murmured.

Remy Lebeau:

Of the two, Remy is undoubtedly the most proud when it comes to showcasing his affection. His love language includes plenty of flirtation, and he makes sure that most of your hickeys are prominently displayed. He’s also quite vocal about it, especially when your best friend, Peter Maximoff, notices the sudden marks on your neck and expresses his concern. “Geez, Y/N, someone was feisty last night. I’m curious who the lucky one is.”

In no time, an arm wrapped around your shoulder, with Remy’s shadow looming over your petite frame and a smug look of pride on his face. “Ma chérie, you look a bit tired today,” he remarked, prompting you to shoot him a death glare. Despite your effort to remain professional, Remy’s public displays of affection made Peter gulp silently. “I guess that’s my cue to leave,” he said. “See you at lunch?”

That question was an offer Remy was inclined to refuse, as he had other plans in mind. Everyone knew it, especially you, which surprised him when you agreed to join. His grip around your waist tightened, and a smile spread across his face. As polite as ever, he said, “It would be a shame if Y/N didn’t join us. But my chère has other plans. Sorry, mon cher Peter.”

Wanting to protest or suggest otherwise, it was clear that Remy had different plans. Sneaking out of work hours only seemed to please him more. As he planted a few kisses in the crook of your neck, his silhouette lingering behind you, Peter took the opportunity to excuse himself. He shared a glance with you, his expression teasingly reflecting his amusement at Gambit’s protective nature.

“Now, chère,” he said, his voice hoarse and his accent more pronounced. His fingers gently caressed your waist. “We have some unfinished business to attend to, don’t we?”

He wasn’t wrong. Your eyelids grew heavier as his teeth sank in, a soft moan escaping your lips just before he covered your mouth with his hand. “No, no, no,” he purred. “Not here.” Yet, he continued, and when he finally stopped, his fingers intertwined with yours, leaving you breathless. With a look of typical smugness, he found you adorable and said, “Alons, y.”

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3amfanfiction · 3 months ago

Note

You wrote this about Simon: “At this lieutenant, already chewed up and spit out by the world. More scars than skin at this point. You wonder how many people only see the scars and not the shivering body underneath it, waiting for a soft touch.”

I’d LOVE to read more of this - i wanna be the one to offer him the soft touch he wants so badly, maaaan! He’s just so big n’ strong but i want to let him curl up against me while i pet him until he stops shivering

This came through at the perfect time. I had the desire to write but I was picking at all my wips half heartedly bc none of the them were what I wanted.

But this? This I wanted.

So thank you again and please enjoy 1.5k words of acclimatizing Simon to soft touches.

<33

Ask referencing this post.

~~~~

He scared you, the first time you saw him.

Not because of how big he was (tall, thick, muscular) or the look in his eyes (cold, dismissive, too watchful), not even because of the scars themselves (numerous, expansive, tragic).

It was because you knew any interaction would come across as a threat. He had that look in his eyes that said he'd seen the worst of what the world had to offer and he persisted through luck and spite equally. Now he was sat in front of you, too disciplined to let his skin shiver but hating being seen. Hating that you were looking.

When you met him it was through a friend of a friend sort of thing. One of your friends was seeing a Scottish boy and invited you out for drinks with them. You had no reason to say no so you found yourself sitting at a high-top doing your best not to bother the man sitting quietly to your right.

His gruff, Simon, during introductions was the only thing he had said in the last hour, content to sit quietly and watch. Almost outside of the group even though he was sitting at the same table. You made sure to include him when you were speaking to the group, your eyes darting to each person as you spoke, not leaving anyone out. But you made sure to never direct a hard question at him that required an answer. It was all, I bet you never have a problem seeing over the crowd. or I'll grab everyone a drink while I'm up or Sorry, I'll be out of your space in a moment, my jacket was getting a little warm.

He would look at you. Every time you spoke to him he wouldn't shy away from eye contact but that was where his involvement ended. Never a head nod or shake, never a verbal answer.

By the end of the night you were positive he didn't like you. He didn't dis-like you but he didn't like you, you were pretty sure. That was okay though. You'd done your best not to infringe on his space, not wanting to step on his toes. You thought you had done a good job all around and put it out of your mind, the interaction over and done with and no longer needing to be reviewed.

What you never realized was Simon's shoulders lowered a whole inch throughout the course of the night.

\\\

You called your friend out on the number of times she invited you to hang out with Johnny and Simon, flat out asking if she and Johnny were trying to set you and Simon up through subtle double-dating.

"No!" She leaned forward grabbing your hand, her eyes looking earnestly into yours, "I promise it's not like that. Johnny told me he's pretty much all Simon has. Well, their team is. So they're always together when they're home. I don't want Simon to feel like a third wheel or left out or anything."

And you believed her. This was one of her strong suits, always looking out for others. That's probably why you two got along so well, a pair of givers, the both of you. And she had a point. The idea of Simon sitting awkwardly with the other two as his only companions made something twist in your stomach. You didn't want that for him.

So you kept seeing Simon and you kept doing your best to give him space but include him at the same time. You were shocked the first day he spoke to you but the fact that it was a bad joke made a sort of perfect sense.

"What's the best way to carve wood?"

You looked over at him in shock that this was what he chose to break the ice with. At the same time you were delighted and you couldn't help but feel giddy at the prospect of Simon telling you a joke. A bad one by the sound of it.

"How?"

"Whittle by whittle."

"That was absolutely terrible."

He smiled to himself if his eye crinkles had anything to say about it. That giddy feeling bubbling up inside you was getting unsettlingly big right about now. You looked at the ground and bit your lip to keep from a cheesy grin of your own breaking out.

Before you knew it he had no problem speaking to you. While never particularly verbose, he would respond to comments directed towards him, offer his opinion if options were offered, and kept telling awful jokes.

You were hopelessly charmed.

You broke your own rules and reached for him first.

You were sat next to him on a bench, the sun setting and the evening air cooling further. He had told you another one of his god-awful jokes when you unthinkingly swatted out with your hand, brushing his arm. His muscles jumped and his arm tensed right before you made contact as if bracing for a hit. An involuntary reaction to someone reaching for him. It was a horrifying realization.

You sobered quickly and your chuckle died off awkwardly. You turned to face forward, looking out at the street, watching for any sign of your friend or Johnny who had stepped into the store for a quick moment leaving you and Simon to find a bench while you waited. You hoped that if you didn't draw attention to it then your faux pas would pass unmentioned.

You let out a relieved sigh when Simon continued with another comment, not taking your overstepping to heart. By the time the other two had rejoined you the whole situation was forgotten, water under the bridge. You didn't think of it again until it was the end of the night with everyone about to go their separate ways.

When you said goodbye to Simon he said it back, reaching out to brush his hand down your arm in return in almost the exact same spot as where you'd touched him earlier.

Your heart skipped a beat before picking up a double pace. You couldn't help but beam at him, a wide grin splitting your face even as he grunted and turned away, likely embarrassed by your show of emotion.

Today had been a good day after all.

You thought you had ruined it for a moment there, thankful when Simon seemed to brush past it. You hadn't expected him to reciprocate in the same manner though.

Maybe he really did like hanging out with you. You never doubted it for a second.

\\\

It took time–a slow steady build to where you ended up, curled up on the couch together with Simon laying on top of you. You both had your tops off to bask in a little skin-to-skin time.

You'd been together for a few months at this point and it was like night and day to compare him to the Simon you met all that time ago. This one couldn't keep his hands off you to save his life. It was a slow warm-up to get past his walls in a way that wasn't upsetting to either of you. Soft touches that slowly built, leading to hand holding, to hugging, to kissing, to this.

You dragged your fingers slowly up his back, fingertips catching on raised scar tissue before continuing on, ever moving. He hummed into the crook of your neck where he had buried his face when you switched from fingertips to nails, gently scratching the skin.

You loved spending time like this, feeling Simon melt into you, eager for every touch he could get. If you were sitting still and Simon was in the vicinity you could bet that he would be pressed against your side before too much time had passed. Eager for the soft caresses you always had for him.

He was starved for touch and you wanted to feed him.

So you offered, again and again in the beginning–most times with no luck, to let him touch you. On the couch watching TV? Your arms would open, inviting a hug when he walked by. At the table? Your head was tilting up for a kiss if he wanted one. Passing each other in the hallway? You'd raise your hand and hold it in front of you, letting him press his big barrel chest into your palm if he wanted.

It was a slow acclimatization that brought you to today and the taste was all the sweeter for the time you had poured into it.

You lifted a hand to drag it through the spiky hairs at the back of his head, enjoying his groan of contentment. It sounded like he was already halfway asleep and you knew you wouldn't be leaving this spot for a while.

Might as well settle in and get comfortable. You familiarized him to gentle touches, now he was insatiable for them. He would be consuming them from you greedily for as long as you offered.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #i enjoyed writing this #asks #thank you nonnie for sending in this ask! i appreciate it more than you know #touch starved!simon riley #slow acclimatization #as it should be

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eyeritestuff · 7 months ago

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Billy Kid x Reader Headcanons ☆

—X—

A/N: super into ZZZ right now (and billy.)

CW: nothing, maybe a few suggestive jokes but everything is generally SFW :3 i’m super sleepy and writing this at 1am so bare with me when it comes to spelling and grammar :’)

Reader: Gender Neutral [they/them]

—X—

Billy takes a lot of selfies, especially when on missions, and sends them to you. You don’t know what made him start doing this, but you save each and every one of them and you make sure to drop whatever you’re doing to ask him about it.

Billy is on the spectrum. Don’t ask me the logistics of it, yes he’s sophisticated AI, but hear me out! Though you like to indulge in some childhood nostalgia, you aren’t particularly fixated on watching just one media from your childhood. However, one of the medias you watched back in the day is called Starlight Knight. As soon as you told him you enjoyed that show, he would come to you to talk about it. It wasn’t all the time, of course, but whenever conservation went dry (in person or via DMs), he’d make it a thing to talk to you about it for hours. It didn’t annoy you, not in the slightest. It made you happy to see him so happy about the children’s show, and so you entertained it as much as you could.

When Billy texts, he uses old fashioned emoticons as punctuation. Think ‘ :3 , ^_^ , o_O ’ and then replace it everywhere a period, an exclamation point, or a question mark would be. So many emoticons…

Billy loves to play video games, especially at the arcade. He invites you, and usually you tag along. When you can’t, he sends a selfie of him making a sad face. He’d probably captions it something like ‘Missing my pookie.. 💔💔’

On that same note, Billy will pick up on vocabulary you use and steal it. So if you have a habit of saying ‘pookie’ ? That’s his now. He’s using it all the time.

Billy panics easy when it comes to you. not only when it comes to safety, but also when it comes to romantic scenarios. During times you hang out with Anby and Nicole, they spill all the details of how Billy went on a rampage to find the perfect flowers, or how Billy sat in a corner all morning whining about how he didn’t find the right color outfit for you. Things along those lines!

Sortve related, but Billy gets flustered easily. Especially when you make dirty jokes, most of which aren’t really directed at him. He doesn’t get the jokes at first, but when he does understand them, he reacts in such an over the top and dramatic manner. Flailing around, gasping really loud, whining, yknow the works! One time you made a joke about ‘whimpering audios’ and he didn’t understand it. For a while too! Once he asked enough people (Anby explained it to him), he went silent and locked himself in his room for a considerable amount of time. He wasn’t sad or anything, just… shocked.

Billy isn’t human, so he doesn’t necessarily get injured in the traditional sense. One time he came back from a commission with his arm all battered up. You never seen him so down in spirits! You were able to help him, luckily, because it was only one part on his arm that was damaged that really messed up the rest of it. You kissed his hand, and immediately after inspecting your handiwork, he stuck his hand out again. “I dunno.. my arm still feels wonky. How about another kiss for good measure?”

When you’re bored, you love to dress up as Billy. Well, you’re not really dressing like him, you’re just wearing his jacket. You also like to wear the jacket with certain outfits you think it would look best with. Since your boyfriend is so tall and broad in the arms, you mostly wore it as a shoulder drape in an odd anime fashion statement. Regardless, Billy loved to see you wear it.

Earlier I mentioned Billy loves to take selfies, but I forgot to mention how most of them include you, and despite having all of those selfies of himself, half of his camera roll is you. He likes to sneak pictures of you sometimes! It’s one of his more odder behaviors, but he takes such cinematic pictures of you, even when you’re wearing the worst outfits. You didn’t know how he did it, but it’s one of the things that made the random picture taking somewhat okay.

Billy loves hugs. Don’t ask me how it works in terms of comfort. I would assume it’s the equivalent of sleeping in a car. However, Billy does have plenty of plushies thanks to you, and you use those to your advantage… so it’s not all bad :)

You asked Billy to teach you how to sling guns, and the entire tutorial sesh was just him feeling every inch of your body, memorizing and admiring how you looked. He loved you. All of you! He thought he was being sneaky, but you knew (and secretly loved it too).

Billy loves to carry you on his back and walk around. All I’m saying is, he’s got handlebars on that jacket for a reason… this has to be one of them……

Billy loves stickers. Self Explanatory!

Billy loves giving you gifts. He puts your needs over his more than he should, but luckily you’re not in this relationship to take advantage of his immaturity and inexperience. You give back as much as you can.

Billy is clingy. Needed to type it out despite it being loud as hell in this list.

Billy cant cook. Not like he needs to anyways, but he wants to learn for you! So when you’re cooking, he watches close behind you and asks you every question he can think of.

Billy likes to ask why… a lot. It gets frustrating sometimes, but he genuinely wants to learn.

—X—

A/N: thx for reading! idk might make a part 2 i’m gonna go fall asleep now :3

#billy kid #ZZZ #zzzero #billy kid x reader #billy kid zzz #zzz billy #zzz fanfic #zenless zone zero #zenless zone zero fanfic #fanfiction #i don’t know what else to tag this i’ve never written fanfiction before #billy kid x reader zzz #billy kid zenless zone zero #x reader #eepy #eepyposting #zzz fanfiction #headcanon #lalala

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month ago

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The Gray Woman 2

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: You meet a man who tests your patience. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: To those who didn’t help me resist this beast, I blame you.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The bank is at peak hours. The rush used to make you dizzy but these days you barely notice the changes. There's always someone else waiting. There's always someone upset about money and it's usually their own fault.

You tap through a transaction, working from muscle memory as you ask the usual questions, hit the usual keys. You hand over their card and point them to grab their receipt from the machine on the other side of the glass. The take both. You're used to the the lack of a 'thank you'.

You wait for the next customer. When no one shows, you peer up towards the line corralled behind the stanchions and cords. A man in his suit, more interested in his phone than reality. A woman behind him clears her throat, "excuse me."

He jerks away from her as if she spit on him and scoffs. He rolls his eyes and tucks away his phone as his eyes flit up to you. He approaches as he continues to feel around under the chest of his jacket. He reveals his black card as he gets to the counter and slaps it down.

You watch him dulcetly, "hello, sir. How can I help you today?"

He scoffs again, this time louder. "That's Mr. Hansen, remember?"

You look at him, this time with actual consideration. Your customers are usually nothing more than faceless silhouettes. He sports a bristly mustache and shaved sides. Quite the look to go with his patterned suit jacket.

"I get a lot of customers, sir," you reach through to take his card and he catches your fingers. You flinch, just a little, and try to jerk your hand free. "Sir, let go or--"

"Yeah, yeah," he chortles and releases you as he slants his lips defiantly, "you call over those fake cops standing at the door. What do you think they'll do about it, sweet cheeks?"

You feel a crease between your brows but you don't bit the bait. Some people just want to spread their misery. You quickly snatch the card and swipe it through the machine. His account pops up on the screen.

"What do we need today?" You ask.

"Hm, besides a coffee and some afternoon delight," he snickers, "I need you to move some money for me, sweetheart."

You ignore the epithet. It happens often. The 'hons', the 'sweeties', the 'girls'.

"I'll need an ID." You say.

"We've been through this," he snips. "Just do what I tell you."

He steps closer to the window and you turn to blink at him. He stares back at you. He grimaces, "you really that stupid? You forgot me already?"

"Like I said, sir, it's busy--"

"Go get Veronique, right now," he demands, his nose almost touching the glass.

You put your feet on the bar and step down to the floor. You move stiffly, if not deliberately slow, and shuffle in your flats toward Veronique's cubicle. She sits behind the frosted siding and you tap on it before peeking around.

"Customer," you shrug.

She huffs, "ugh, I swear."

She stands up and leaves her cell phone on the desk. You back up and wait for her to pass before you follow her. She struts to your counter and in an instant, her posture changes.

"Mr. Hansen, you're back!" She chirps, "comment ca va?"

"The damn crow you got squawking back there is asking for my ID again."

"Is she?" Veronique hisses, "forgive me please. I promise, we will make sure this doesn't happen again." She turns and points to your chair, "just do what he say and stop bothering me. Mr. Hansen is a VIP customer. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," you answer. You already know you'll get a lecture later so you don't hold back the subtle snipe.

You get up on your seat and face Mr. Hansen, "what do you need? Money where?"

He chuffs out derisively, "I know your fucking with me, doll face. You remember me."

You neither confirm or deny. Truly, you deal with so many demanding managers and executives, that you might have seen him an hour ago and not realise it.

"Are we moving money out of the checking?" You ask.

He sighs and shifts, leaning on the ledge as if trying to see around your screen. He grumbles before he speaks up. He tells you what to do and you acquiesce. He gives you an account number to wire money out then announces the end of your work.

"Good girl," he winks as he stands straight.

"Do you need your receipt?" You ask as you reach for your mug, tasting the cold peppermint tea.

He watches you sip and his cheek ticks. "I need that about as much as you need that stick lodge up your ass."

It's a bit more on the nose than you're used to. Usually they call you a bitch or just huff and puff and stomp out. His effort is a bit too much. Especially if he thinks himself so important.

"Have a good day, sir," you close out of his account with a click. "Mr. Hansen," he snarls.

"Alright," you say and try to see around him, ready for the next in line. He hesitates before he backs off. When he does, a squat woman comes up and hands you a check. She slides through her bank card and ID. You put it through the scanner then ask her what account to deposit or if she needs cash.

As you issue her receipt, you glance up. That man stands by the door, his face furrowed in distaste as he glares across at you, then he spins and strides out. Hm, maybe it wasn't the same man… you can't tell that far away.

You wish the woman a good day and the next customer comes up. You peek at the clock. Still a while left. Sometimes it feels like time slows down, like the bank isn't subject to the typical laws of time a space. A special purgatory just for the forsaken tellers behind their windows.

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #the gray woman #series #drabble

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yourfatherlucifer · 10 months ago

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Our Aurora : Chapter 1

Ot8!Ateez x afab/female!reader

Summary: Attending university with your eight boyfriends wasn’t easy, neither was sharing a mansion with them.

Warnings: MDNI, this mini series includes tons of smut, slight violence, protective ateez, poly relationship, established relationship, mentions of mxm, choking, other smut themes.

WC: 2K

AU: University

Genre: Smut/Fluff

Nets: @newworldnet

Taglist: (open)

Note: GUESS WHOS BACK BITCHES!!!!! Btw please reblog 🤭

Series Masterlist

The greatest benefit of being rich and going to a very prestigious university meant owning your own mansion with your eight boyfriends. That was a lot of lovers but you didn’t mind and neither did they. Of course, there was always someone who’d called you a whore for having so many men to yourself. You would ignore them because you knew your boyfriends loved you, they took care of your every need.

Each man was different, Hongjoong is an art major. Seonghwa is a mathematics major, he’s the nerd of the school. Yunho is an English major, he wants to be a teacher. Yeosang is a cheerleader for the football team. San is a quarterback for the football team. Mingi is a music major but is part of the basketball team. Wooyoung is a dance major. Jongho is part of the soccer team on a scholarship.

One time, Jongho punched one of his teammates in the face for flirting with you in the middle of practice. You had just come from supporting San at his practice, wearing his letter jacket and one of the boys favorite skirts. You had looked so cute cheering on Jongho, he was always so happy to see you there. Though his face had turned sour when he saw his captain walking up to you, a pervy grin on his face.

Oh this infuriated Jongho. Everyone knew at this school that you were taken, yes the relationship was polyamorous but you guys weren’t welcoming anyone else into the relationship. You were happy with just the nine of you.

So to see this vile man reach out to touch you brought pure anger to him. Jongho had charged him, tackling him to the dirt ground. Jongho had broken the man's nose, his knuckles were bleeding. You had to jump the fence to stop your lover. He was nearly kicked off the team until you paid off the school to keep quiet about it. Which he wasn’t very happy about but he got to keep his scholarship so he couldn’t complain. But you rewarded his protective behavior with a blowjob when the two of you got home. Safe to say he got over what you did.

After that, you’d spend time alone in the university’s art room, alone with Hongjoong. You’d sit in his lap while he painted. This was his practice for his future designer line. He wanted his own fashion line but decided on being an art major to help with his goal. His free hand would dance along the inside of your skirt, around the plush of your thighs while his paint brush stroked the canvas in front of him. You’d have to work so hard not to squirm in his lap, else you wanted to be punished for screwing up his artwork. Today was no different.

“Beautiful, you really need to stop moving. You’re gonna mess me up.” He tutted, “You don’t want that, now do you?”

You lightly whined, trying to get off his lap only for him to pull you back down.

Hongjoong didn’t like that you tried to leave him, “You already want to leave me? I thought it was my day?”

“It is your day, Joongie, but, I..” You couldn’t even finish your sentence.

“What is it? Why can’t you stay?”

To answer his question, you dug your ass into his pelvis, “Because, Joongie, I can feel your cock against me.”

Hongjoong set down his paintbrush with a groan, “I really wish you didn’t notice.”

He pushed his wet canvas to the side and bent you over the table, flipping up your skirt, “You’ll let me fuck this pretty cunt, won’t you?”

His words made you quiver, legs threatening to give out beneath you, “Please.”

“Please what, baby? You want me to fuck you so hard that I’ll have to get one of the boys to come pick you up? Cause your brain can only think of my cock?” Hongjoong’s decorated fingers pushed the soaked panties to the side. Your cunt glistening in the light. Just for him.

The moment you felt his lips to your cunt, you let out a loud cry. This man ate out cunt like it was his last meal. He was one of the few of your boyfriends who would even do such a thing.

Your fingers dug into the edge of the table as Hongjoong’s tongue slithered inside of your dripping hole.

Your body lurched forward with his movements. His hands gripped your thighs to let you know he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon. Two of his digits pushed inside alongside his tongue, pushing and prodding against your walls. He had to free one of his hands to massage his bulge, the growing discomfort in his shorts.

Once his cock was freed from its confines, he moaned a sigh of relief. His lips peeled away from your cunt, just to rub his cockhead against your folds, “Baby, you’re so soaked, and it's all for me.”

Ah yes, Hongjoong was very cocky, he knew your cunt belonged to your other boyfriends as well.

As he slowly pushed in, your mouth fell open and your eyes widened, still not used to him, “Ah, Joongie, careful. Stretching me so much.”

Hongjoong dipped his fingers in his paint palette and marked your ass cheeks with color. The cold liquid gave shivers down your spine. The red and yellow contrasted beautifully in his eyes, he couldn’t wait for the day for you to let him paint your body like a canvas. His perverted mind thought it would be a great idea to paint your breasts someday.

He watched as his cock pushed into your cunt, the squelching could be heard quite greatly.

Your body laid limp on the table, Hongjoong’s cum flowing out of your cunt, “Well, as much as I wanna go for round two, you’re all spent. I’ll call Yunho to pick you up.”

When your tallest boyfriend arrived, he chuckled at the sight of your exhausted body, “Again, Hongjoong? How rough did you go this time?”

As he stepped closer he could see the paint streaks along your body, your eyes were barely staying open, “Yuyu?” You could hardly call out.

“Hi, my sunshine, I’m here to take you home.” Yunho fixed your clothes and lifted your body onto his back, “Mingi is gonna take good care of you because I can’t. I have students I still need to tutor.”

You whined at his words, “But..want you to be home, all of you to be home.”

He couldn’t help but frown as he walked the two of you out the door, “I know, sunshine, but you know how busy we are. Seonghwa and Mingi are at home. You know the rest have their sports practice, I’m not sure if Wooyoung is home or not, but if he is, you know he’ll cook you a nice meal.” He could feel your ruined panties against his back, he’d have to tell Mingi to change you.

Yunho gently sat you in the passenger seat, reaching in the back to grab a blanket, covering your shaking legs, “Oh, sunshine, he really put you through it.” He chuckled to himself.

“Yunho?”

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Shut up.”

Yunho looked offended before he went around the car to get in the passenger seat, “You know, as rich as you are, you seem to love to be spoiled only by your eight boyfriends.”

“Yeah well, the money doesn’t matter to me, all that matters is I have you guys. It would be very lonely in that mansion without you boys.” You sighed, fiddling with your fingers.

As the car rumbled to life, Yunho reached over the console to grip your blanket covered leg, “Sunshine, don’t worry, we won’t be going anywhere. We wouldn’t dream of it. You’re stuck with us and us with you.”

Yunho honked the horn a couple times and a very rough looking Mingi wobbled out of the front door. He must’ve been sleeping. His white hair was a mess, his black rimmed glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. His shirt was wrinkled and his basketball shorts hung low on his waist. He wore his cute little flip flops too. You did spoil them with designer clothes but sometimes they liked to dress normal, and so did you.

His face brightened up when he saw you in the front seat. He was like an excited puppy as he opened the passenger seat, “Hi Yunho, hello my princess.” Mingi’s plush lips pressed against yours as he leaned into the car, his huge hand practically swallowed your cheek.

Yunho leaned over the console and smacked Mingi’s shoulder, “Come on, lover boy, take her inside and do what I told you, I gotta get back to lessons. I cannot be late.”

“Be nice, Yuyu, he’s just excited to see me.” You unbuckled your seat belt and tossed the blanket in the back. You tried to step out of the car but your wobbly legs nearly gave out on you, luckily Mingi caught you.

“Goodbye Yunho.” You both waved your goodbyes as he drove away.

He carried you inside, already dismissing your butler and cleaning servants earlier. He knew he was about to make you scream in the bathroom, of course he had to be careful, knowing you just had the daylight fucked out of you by one your shared older boyfriends.

He took you up the giant staircase, took a left and brought you into the main bathroom. The massive tub sat in the middle, it was a square marble tub. The inner lining itself was white and had jets hooked in.

After he sat you on the side of the tub, he slowly pulled off your shoes, your socks. His cheeks reddened when he saw the state of your underwear but continued on, removing your clothes.

“Just sit here and look pretty, I’m gonna let the bath run.” He leaned over to turn the hot water on, “Did you need anything else?”

“Do you mind staying with me, Mingi? I’m really sore and don’t want to be alone..I’ll let you clean me?”

Mingi grinned at that, anything for his princess, “Of course I can.” He threw his wrinkled tank top to the side, his glasses falling to the ground but he didn’t care. He was stripped within seconds, proudly standing bare before you.

You slowly sunk yourself into the water and Mingi sat behind you, his chest pressed against your back, “The warm water feel good, princess?”

You let out a moan in contentment, the water already doing wonders on your sore cunt, “Yes, Mingi, it’s amazing, thank you, big boy.”

Minutes after just relaxing in the water, the tall man’s hand slinked around your shoulder to wrap around your throat, “it’s okay, princess.”

You let out a whimper as you could feel his hardening cock from behind.

“I won’t fuck you with my cock because I know you’re hurting, but you can handle my fingers, right?” His husky voice reverberated in your ear. If it wasn’t for the water, you just knew you’d be wet right now.

“Mingi, please, don’t tease me and just touch me.” Your ass pressed against his cock and his grip on your neck tightened in response.

“I’ll touch you but you just can’t move, got it?”

You couldn’t even get out a word before his fingers went for your cunt, still stretched out from Hongjoong.

Your lips curled inward and your head fell back to his chest, “Mingi!” His fingers were already doing wonders.

His heavy breathing was so hard to focus on as his eyes were glued to the way your cunt sucked in his fingers.

Mingi’s fingers were so long they could easily touch your cervix, “I can feel Hongjoong’s cum inside of you, princess, seems like you need a good cleaning, yeah?”

You whined, “He’s your boyfriend just as much as he is mine, ah Mingi!”

His fingers squeezed your throat, “Doesn’t mean I can’t get jealous, this cunt is heavenly.”

His teeth latched onto your shoulder as he quickened his pace, the water was splashing everywhere. His fingers never slowed down. You could feel his calloused fingertips touching your walls. Those guitar playing fingers.

“Come on, princess, cum for me, cleanse that delicious cunt for me.” He let out a growl.

With your cunt still overstimulated, your orgasm came quick and flooded around his fingers.

He pulled out his fingers with a smile, watching as the water washed the cum from his fingers, “Oh, princess, seems you came a lot..” Mingi kissed along the crevice of your neck while you whined in exhaustion.

“Mingi, please, need..bed.” You could barely keep your eyes open.

“Sure, princess, let’s go get some rest in.”

#newworldnet #ateez x reader #ateez smut #hongjoong smut #san x reader #x reader #choi san x reader #seonghwa smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #Jongho smut #Yeosang smut #Yunho smut

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months ago

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We're Not Okay - 1 | Bucky

Character: Bucky x veterinarian!Female Reader

Summary: Two people, each carrying their own trauma, find themselves in a place where they can begin to heal their wounds and mend their hearts together.

Words Count: 3,400

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“This is the first time I’ve heard a fox's voice,” said your father, Toni, as he shivered, pulling his jacket suit tighter around himself. The cold air bit at both of you as snow threatened to fall. Toni, at 50 years old, stood taller than you, his grey hair contrasting against the bleak sky.

He kept close behind as you worked at the conservation center, his eyes darting downward to ensure his pristine Italian leather shoes avoided mud or puddles. Unlike him, you wore a rugged outdoor outfit, complete with sturdy boots, befitting your role as a veterinarian and co-owner of the conservation—a job you’d been committed to since leaving home at seventeen.

“You could have waited in the visitor’s room,” you said, glancing over your shoulder while examining the fox.

“I can’t,” he replied, his voice tinged with anxiousness.

You let out a long sigh, turning your attention back to the fox—a sleek creature with bright orange fur streaked with hints of white, its ears flicking nervously as you checked for injuries. Its amber eyes watched you warily, a mix of fear and exhaustion evident.

Once your work was done, you exited the cage with Toni following closely. Both of you headed toward the main house, the crunch of gravel underfoot breaking the tense silence.

Toni’s eyes caught something unusual. “Wow. What’s that?” He pointed toward a cage set apart from the rest.

“Wait…! Don’t go near—” you shouted, but it was too late. Toni had already stepped closer.

“AHH!” He fell to the ground, his face pale and eyes wide. He trembled as he stared at the creature inside.

The white wolf looked directly at him, its majestic fur glistening like freshly fallen snow. Though intimidating with its piercing blue eyes and muscular build, it limped, favoring one injured leg.

You rushed over and dragged your father away from the cage. “I can’t even get close to him,” you muttered, exasperated.

Toni stood, brushing the dirt from his customized jacket, his face a mixture of frustration and fear. “I’ve been spat on, peed on, and now nearly eaten by the animals here.”

“Why are you even here if you hate it so much?” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just like my two older brothers. They come here, disrupt my work, and complain.”

“Ew… this place stinks. How do you stand it?” your first brother had sneered on his last visit.

“This owl is interesting. Do you sell them? I know plenty of people who’d pay,” the second one had added.

“GET OUT!” you’d yelled, seething with fury.

All the men in your family despised the outdoors. City people, through and through, they were consumed with managing their nightclub empire—a world you had rejected wholeheartedly. That life, everything they represented, was what drove you away to this sanctuary of yours.

Toni shifted nervously, glancing at you with rare vulnerability. It was an odd sight—the formidable nightclub owner and fierce businessman, now reduced to unease in your presence.

“Here’s the thing. I need… No.” He shook his head and corrected himself, “We need your help.”

“Me?” You arched an eyebrow. “How?” The question dripped with skepticism. You, a conservationist and veterinarian, had severed ties with their business long ago.

“Because of COVID-19, many businesses have been hit hard, including ours,” Toni said, his shoulders sagging.

You crossed your arms tighter, a flicker of resentment surfacing. After you’d left home, you’d turned a blind eye to everything related to their business. “Well, good. I hope that place burns to the ground.”

Toni’s face fell. “I know you hate it, but it’s my livelihood.” He sighed deeply. “Business is bad. There’s a chance it’ll go bankrupt.”

“Then sell it,” you said with a dismissive wave. “Most men your age are enjoying retirement.”

“Bah! No. I’m still in my prime!” He straightened his back defensively.

“Get to the point. What do you want?” you demanded.

“There’s someone willing to invest. But… there’s a catch,” Toni admitted, his eyes pleading. “Do you know Barnes?”

“Hmm… Yeah. The family that donates a lot to wildlife causes, including this place.”

“That’s right.” Toni nodded eagerly.

“So Barnes wants to invest in your nightclub?” You were incredulous. “Why?”

“That’s how Barnes gets richer—diversifying. And they’ve chosen our business. But there’s a condition.” Toni’s expression grew grave.

A pit formed in your stomach. Whatever it was, you knew it couldn’t be good.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

“The Barneses want to send their oldest grandchild here,” said Toni, his voice low as if dreading your reaction.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, exhaling slowly. “This isn’t a daycare or rehab facility for humans.”

“I know, I know.” He raised his hands defensively. “That’s what I’ve been telling them. But they won’t budge. If I don’t bring their grandchild here, they won’t invest in the nightclub.”

“Ridiculous!” you snapped, your eyes narrowing. “Why drag me into this? The animals here are victims, and this place is their sanctuary, not some personal favor zone.”

“I knew you’d hate it,” Toni said, shifting uncomfortably. “But I thought you might change your mind after hearing me out.”

You crossed your arms, skeptically raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m all ears. What kind of offer could possibly make me reconsider?”

“This… isn’t easy for me,” he admitted, swallowing hard. “But I’ll give you what you’ve wanted for a long time. I’ll remove you from the family registry.”

Your eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Wow. You must really need this investment.”

Toni nodded, his shoulders slumping, revealing the weight of his desperation. “But you don’t…” His voice faltered, as if hoping you’d ask for anything else instead of severing family ties completely.

“Fine.” The single word was delivered coolly as you turned on your heel, walking away without looking back. Toni’s face fell, his hope visibly deflated.

“Do you really hate me that much?” he called out, his voice cracking slightly. “That you want nothing to do with us?”

You stopped mid-step, your back still to him. “I do.” The words were blunt and final, hitting him like a physical blow.

A silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the faint rustling of the wind. “Because of you, I’m reminded of that incident,” you said quietly, more to yourself than him, before walking away, leaving him standing there, hurt and alone.

That night, sleep eluded you. Memories from your childhood swirled in your mind, refusing to let you rest. Growing up as the child of a nightclub owner was no fairytale. Your home was a chaotic tangle of bright lights and dark secrets. You’d seen things a child shouldn’t—dangerous deals, late-night arguments, drunken patrons—and it left scars.

The confusion was only magnified by two stepmothers and two stepbrothers. Making a family tree in school was always a nightmare. That business stole away what innocence you had left. That was why you fled, finding solace in the simplicity and quiet resilience of animals.

"Owooooooo," A wolf’s howl pierced the still night air, low and haunting.

The sound sent a chill down your spine but also pulled you from your thoughts. Grabbing your jacket, you decided to check on the white wolf.

The wolf’s enclosure was isolated from the others. Previously placed near the fox, it had made every nearby animal skittish and restless, so it was moved here. The wolf stood under the pale moonlight, its white fur glistening like freshly fallen snow, every movement tinged with raw strength despite the noticeable limp in its gait. It tilted its head back and howled again, a mournful, soul-stirring sound.

You stepped closer to the cage, your breath fogging in the cold air. The white wolf’s piercing blue eyes locked onto you, unblinking. When it first arrived, it had been painfully thin, its ribs visible under its fur, and its injured leg had been in dire condition. Despite its weakened state, it had always reacted with hostility—growling, baring its sharp teeth whenever you approached.

You stopped just outside the cage’s boundary. “Can’t sleep?” you asked softly. “Me neither.”

The wolf let out another long, mournful howl, as if acknowledging your words. Its gaze was intense, wary, but something flickered in its eyes—pain, maybe even recognition.

“You’ve been hurt a lot,” you murmured, your voice low and steady. The wolf’s ears twitched, a small but telling sign that it was listening, though its muscles remained taut, ready to spring at the first hint of danger. You leaned against the cold metal bars, feeling the chill seep through your jacket. The wolf’s intense gaze never wavered, its blue eyes seeming to pierce right through you, mirroring a pain you recognized all too well. This raw, unfiltered connection made the air feel heavier, the silence more profound.

This was why you worked here. It wasn’t just about caring for wounded animals; it was about caring for yourself. The conservation was a sanctuary, not only for those with fur and feathers but for a heart battered by memories of your past.

Every injured creature, every frightened animal you helped heal, was a step toward mending yourself. You’d left a life that was full of noise, chaos, and hollow family ties that never really felt like home. Here, there was simplicity in purpose and purity in your connection with these beings—no lies, no hidden motives, only survival, trust, and the instinctual drive to heal.

When you saw the wolf growl and lash out in fear or defiance, you understood. Its isolation mirrored your own self-imposed solitude. You, too, had learned to push others away to protect yourself. In mending its wounds, in helping it trust again, you hoped to do the same for yourself. Piece by piece. Scar by scar.

You sighed, your breath visible in the cold air. “It’s going to be okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than the wolf. It didn’t respond, of course, but its ears twitched again. You let yourself believe that, maybe, it understood on some level. Maybe, just like you, it wanted to believe that healing was possible—even after so much pain.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

The inside of the luxurious jeep exuded opulence—soft leather seats, dark wood paneling, and the faint scent of expensive cologne mingling with polished leather. In the spacious backseat sat two men.

One of them, Jimmy Barnes, carried himself with a commanding presence. His gray hair was impeccably styled, and lines of experience etched his face, giving him the aura of a leader used to control. Everything about him, from the sharp cut of his suit to his steely gaze, spoke of power and purpose.

Beside him, his eldest son, James Buchanan Barnes—known as Bucky—stared blankly out the window. The passing landscape rolled by, ignored and unremarked upon, as the silence between father and son stretched uncomfortably. The trip had already dragged on for four hours, and not a single word had passed between them.

Jimmy shifted in his seat, crossing one leg over the other. He glanced at Bucky, his eyes softening momentarily before hardening again as he struggled to maintain composure. He drew a breath and spoke, his voice firm but tinged with an edge of weariness.

“Bucky.”

There was no response. Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on the blur of trees outside, as if he hadn’t heard anything at all.

Jimmy clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around the cane resting against his knee. He let out a deep sigh, exhaling the frustration he’d been holding. “Bucky,” he repeated, more gently this time. Still nothing. Jimmy's shoulders sagged slightly, a rare crack in his usually impenetrable facade.

Bucky, his firstborn from his marriage to his late first wife, hadn’t spoken a word in years. As a child, something had happened—something that had stolen his voice and left scars too deep for therapists and experts to reach.

Every attempt to coax him out of his silence had met with failure. Over time, Bucky had also developed acute anxiety around people, making even the simplest social interactions a nightmare. Recently, though, they’d discovered a sliver of hope: Bucky seemed calmer, even a little more at ease, around animals.

Jimmy’s thoughts drifted back to his meeting with Toni. What had started as a business discussion quickly shifted when Toni mentioned his daughter—a veterinarian with her own conservation center. The idea had taken root then and there.

This might be what Bucky needed. It was a desperate measure, but Jimmy would go to any length to see his son improve—for Bucky’s sake, and for the sake of their family legacy.

Jimmy shifted again, leaning closer to Bucky, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “We’re going somewhere different today,” he said, trying to inject warmth into his tone. “You’ll like it. Animals, open air… it’s good.”

Bucky didn’t move, but a slight tension in his shoulders betrayed that he’d heard. The silence lingered heavily between them, but Jimmy took it as a small victory. He leaned back, looking out his own window, his expression hardening once more. He needed this to work. Bucky had to get better—for himself, for the company, and for the legacy he would one day inherit.

The jeep rolled on, carrying them both toward an uncertain future.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

When Jimmy and Bucky arrived, the scene was more than just a simple visit; it was practically an event. The luxurious jeep pulled up, its polished exterior gleaming even in the muted light. Two men stepped out, flanked by a small team of guards who maintained a cautious but respectful distance. You observed the scene with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Guards? It felt excessive.

Toni walked over with a strained smile, clearly trying to mask his nerves. He gestured toward the older man with an air of forced calm. “This is Jimmy Barnes,” Toni said, his voice firm but tinged with unease. “Jimmy, this is my daughter.”

You extended a hand politely, meeting Jimmy’s piercing gaze. His handshake was strong, controlled—a man used to holding power. “Pleasure to meet you,” you said, maintaining eye contact.

Jimmy nodded once, his expression unreadable. “Thank you for having us,” he replied. “I’ve heard good things.”

“Of course,” you said, feeling the weight of his words. There was a formality in his tone, but a glimmer of desperation lingered beneath. You turned your attention to the younger man beside him. “And you must be Bucky.” You spoke gently, but Bucky didn’t respond. He barely seemed to register your presence, his gaze fixed on the ground or wandering elsewhere.

Jimmy’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. He shifted his weight, a sign of his frustration, though he kept his voice even. “Bucky,” he said again, a touch softer this time. There was no answer. Only the quiet rustling of leaves in the wind.

You looked at Jimmy, feeling the tension simmering beneath the surface. “He can take his time,” you offered quietly, hoping to ease the pressure. “There’s no rush here.”

Jimmy’s shoulders relaxed just a fraction. “Thank you,” he said, his tone softer now. “It’s… difficult. You understand.”

“I do,” you nodded, choosing your words carefully. “We all need space to find our way. Animals teach me that every day.”

Bucky, seemingly oblivious to the exchange, took a few hesitant steps toward the enclosures. You and Jimmy watched as he moved, his posture guarded but curious.

“He’s calmer around animals,” Jimmy said, almost to himself. There was a mix of hope and despair in his voice. “People make it… harder.”

You nodded, choosing to focus on Bucky. “I’ve seen it happen before,” you said quietly. “Sometimes, animals understand what we can’t.”

Jimmy studied you for a moment, as if weighing your words. “I hope you’re right,” he said finally, a hint of vulnerability breaking through his otherwise controlled exterior. “This has to work.”

“It’s a journey,” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “There are no guarantees. But we’ll do our best.”

As Bucky moved closer to the enclosures, something strange happened—the animals turned their attention to him. Every single one of them stopped what they were doing and sat down, as if sensing something unseen. You blinked in surprise, feeling a chill run down your spine. This wasn’t normal behavior.

The white wolf, isolated from the rest due to its intimidating presence, suddenly stood. Its pristine fur gleamed in the sunlight as it limped toward Bucky. You held your breath, instinctively stepping forward in case something went wrong. But Bucky extended a hand, slow and gentle. The wolf hesitated for a brief moment before closing the distance, nudging Bucky’s hand with its nose. Your eyes widened. This was the first time the white wolf had willingly approached anyone. Even you—who spent countless hours caring for it—had never been received this way. It always kept its distance, aloof and wary.

Jimmy watched the scene unfold, his eyes brightening with a mix of hope and disbelief. He turned to you, his voice low but firm. “I have a feeling this place can help him.” There was a pause, heavy with meaning. “If it does, I’ll donate a substantial sum to support your work here.”

“Thank… thank you,” you managed, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice. You inclined your head, feeling the weight of his words settle on your shoulders.

Jimmy nodded and began to walk back to the car, the guards moving in step with him. Toni lingered for a moment. He stepped closer, his expression softened as he took your hand. “Please,” he whispered, his grip warm but trembling slightly. “Help me this time.”

You bit your lip, uncertainty swirling within you. “I’m still not sure about this.”

Toni’s eyes met yours, a mixture of hope and desperation. “You can do this. You’ve always managed to handle things on your own.” He gave you a thumbs up, a strained but genuine smile on his lips, before turning to follow Jimmy.

You watched him go, your heart tightening. “No, I’m not,” you whispered to yourself, your shoulders sagging as the weight of the situation pressed down. Outwardly, you might appear strong and unshakable, but inside, the scars of the past left you vulnerable and weary. Every act of strength was a battle, every decision a reminder of what you had to protect.

When the car disappeared from view, you turned your attention back to Bucky.

🐺🐺🐺🐺

You and Bucky stood in awkward silence after the initial introductions. The air was heavy, almost stifling, as you struggled to find the right words. Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on a point somewhere past your shoulder, his expression distant and unreadable. Finally, you sighed softly, deciding to break the silence.

“Come on,” you said gently, gesturing for him to follow. “Let me show you your room.”

Bucky fell into step behind you, his movements quiet but tense. As you walked, you explained, “We keep things pretty simple around here. Meals are communal. Everyone—workers, volunteers—we all eat together.” You paused, glancing over your shoulder. “You don’t have to join if you’re not ready. No pressure.”

Bucky’s only response was a brief nod. It was mechanical, almost detached, but at least it was acknowledgment. You offered a small smile, even though he wasn’t looking at you. “There’s food available whenever you want it,” you continued softly. “And if you need anything, just let me know.”

He said nothing, his eyes wandering to the walls as if searching for an escape. You let out a quiet breath, your heart heavy. You knew this kind of pain—it mirrored the animals you cared for here. The ones who recoiled from touch, who couldn’t trust, who flinched at the slightest movement. Healing took time. It required patience, and you were prepared to give him both. You just hoped he’d let you.

When night fell, the dining room filled with the usual chatter of workers and volunteers unwinding from the day. You scanned the room but didn’t see Bucky. It wasn’t surprising—socializing with strangers was probably overwhelming for him. Silently, you prepared a tray of food and carried it to his room, setting it carefully in front of the door. You didn’t knock. You didn’t want to intrude. Instead, you walked away quietly, hoping he would eat when he was ready.

As you settled into your own bed later that night, a strange unease crept over you. The quiet felt oppressive—too quiet. Usually, the white wolf’s mournful howls punctuated the stillness, a sound you’d grown oddly comforted by. Tonight, there was nothing. It gnawed at you, pulling you from bed and urging you out into the night.

Your steps quickened as you made your way toward the white wolf’s enclosure. The moon cast pale light over the grounds, and there, standing face to face with the wolf, was Bucky.

Neither of them moved. They simply stared at each other, as if sharing an unspoken language that only they could understand. The wolf’s icy-blue eyes were locked onto Bucky, unblinking, while Bucky’s expression was raw, a mixture of pain and something else you couldn’t quite name—recognition, perhaps.

You swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat. “Hi…” you said softly, taking slow, cautious steps forward. You didn’t want to startle either of them.

Bucky flinched at the sound of your voice, his head snapping toward you. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a split second, you saw fear flash across his face. He turned and bolted, his footsteps muffled by the grass. As he disappeared into the shadows, the white wolf turned its attention to you. It let out a low, warning growl, its body tense and protective.

'What was that?' You froze, raising your hands slowly in a gesture of peace. “It’s okay,” you murmured, though your pulse raced. The wolf’s eyes never left you, its growl deepening. You felt like an intruder—like you’d interrupted something sacred.

What had just happened? Why did it feel like you were the outsider, the third party in whatever silent connection Bucky and the wolf shared?

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andvys · 1 year ago

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I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6

Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe <;3

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Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up.

He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.

How will he keep going?

Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one.

The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment.

“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles.

The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.”

“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer.

The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar.

“Hey Tony.”

Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling.

“Hey Ed, how’s it going?”

Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?”

Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.”

“With what?”

Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.

“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.”

“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve.

“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?”

Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is.

“Get lost, freak.”

“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness.

“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back.

Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read.

“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either.

Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales.

It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room.

Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave.

Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about?

Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing?

How did you even meet him?

You never even talked to him when you were still with him.

“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.”

Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.”

“Tell your old man to come by too.”

“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves.

Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie.

“Hey! This is too much, kid!”

“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there.

Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up.

“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes.

Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van.

“What do you want, Harrington?”

Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.

“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him.

Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?”

Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now.

“You’re the stoner.”

Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.”

Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?”

Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?”

“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily.

A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance.

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation.

“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up.

“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?”

The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t.

Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around.

“Put those keys away, dude.”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion.

“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”

Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson.

“I’ll walk.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”

It’s not about that, it’s about you.

Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance.

“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.”

Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van.

Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”

Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on.

“Your music sucks.”

“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.

Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot.

The song takes him back to last year, back to you.

“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap.

“A Song?" He asked, chuckling.

You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist.

“Uh– probably, Heroes.”

“By David Bowie?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.

“Isn’t it sad though?”

Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did.

“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,

and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?”

Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing.

He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”

“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!”

“Then keep going.”

“No,” you giggled.

“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips.

“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang.

You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed.

“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.”

“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat.

Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest.

Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve.

“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like?

Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie.

“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van.

Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.

Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew.

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault.

He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little.

“We’re here.”

Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley.

“I miss her.”

Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat.

“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”

“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?”

Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick.

“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”

Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again.

“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”

Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that.

“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.”

Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods.

“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.”

Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?”

Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much?

Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him.

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more.

“Spit it out, dude.”

Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm.

“T-Take care of her?”

Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.

“I will.”

Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit.

He walks away when he feels like breaking down again.

He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips.

He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how?

How?

You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up.

How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable.

Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle.

Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick.

She hums, glancing at you through your mirror.

Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave.

“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?”

“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.

She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray.

“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.”

Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie.

“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”

You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”

“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.

“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face.

“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”

“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her.

She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.

You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face.

“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night.

You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you.��

She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.

The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.

The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones.

Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave?

“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks.

You nod, smiling at her.

“You seem a little overwhelmed.”

“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.”

“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes.

Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned.

“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.”

He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.”

“As always,” you snort.

“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you.

“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”

She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.

“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you.

“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.”

He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously.

“Y/n?” Heather glares at you.

“Have fun, babe.”

You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it.

You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates.

A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup.

“Hey.”

You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”

You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing.

He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness.

“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch.

“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse.

He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”

You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it.

You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away.

You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him.

You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink.

You wish you would have stayed at home.

You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks.

You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.

His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened.

He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly.

None of it makes sense to you.

If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened?

Why is he still with her?

Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along?

The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill?

Are they already going downhill?

Is that why he told you he still loves you?

So that he has someone to come back to?

You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse.

Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep.

It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better.

You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat.

“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?”

Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.

A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”

“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”

You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks.

You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart!”

He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you.

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.”

“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head.

He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.”

You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always.

“You look amazing, Eddie.”

He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up.

“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.

You can’t even help but giggle.

“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance.

He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”

Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?”

He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes.

“My knight in shining armor,” you tease.

He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them.

A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear.

"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders.

“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.

“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh.

Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear.

The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.

Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do.

Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.

You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him.

“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”

Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”

“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly.

“Okay,” she smiles.

When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him.

But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden.

His are filled with longing and sadness.

Yours are filled with indifference.

You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself.

Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

"Yes, please."

next part

only tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #stranger things angst

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muzaktomyears · 4 months ago

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Two of Us play notes/thoughts/Easter eggs I noticed

they played solo Beatles tracks as waiting music before the play began so I sat there listening to ‘Monkberry Moon Delight’ with a theatreful of people which was great

before Paul turns up John is baking(/burning) bread

John is wearing underwear under his dressing gown which obvs had to be but also my suspension of disbelief was CHALLENGED

when Paul rings up to be let in John does a little rhyme to make him prove he is who he says he is. this is not the exact wording but it went something like: "Five little boys in Hamburg did play/All through the night and all through the day/Ingrid the stripper would do anything/But who got the clap? Was it sexy Stu Sutcliffe - or the lead singer in Wings?" and then Paul has to admit it was him who got the clap

when Paul takes his shoes off he also takes his socks off - idk if this is an intentional barefoot Paul thing but it is hilarious later when they're fighting and Paul is about to leave and angrily putting his socks back on

John and Paul have Get Back era hair/beards, which is weird - presumably because they assume people going to see this will also have seen Get Back but might not know their 1976 looks as well?? idk

some of the dialogue and references have been made a bit more British - the skit they do at the piano is now set in a British greasy spoon instead (still with the American accents)

instead of fighting "like the Hatfields and McCoys" they're now fighting like "the Montagues and the Capulets" (👀)

'Sh-Boom' is played on the record player while they smoke weed (Paul uses the album cover to roll the joint)

George and Ringo both get more of a mention! Paul says that George is happy now (John replies that he's not happy, he's reincarnated). John tells Paul a story Ringo told him about going on a bus in NYC and being recognised.

"I'm the best fuck you ever had" is said by John during the fight (Paul replies "If that's your way of saying you were the real brains behind the Beatles-" etc. etc.)

"You should have married me when you had the chance" is said by John during the Yoko/losing my friend bit

"It's only me" as John's way to get Paul not to leave after the fight

when John goes out to get disguises for them Paul sits at the piano and starts playing some notes he finds there (he'd asked about them earlier and John had said they're nothing). we get a few notes of 'Now and Then' before John returns (ghjshgkhgkdshgksd who did this I HATE YOU)

the appearance of the I Love Paul badge!! John wears it on his disguise jacket and Paul asks what it says. John tells him and then Paul replies "Lucky Paul".......

they never go outside in this version - John says he'll go but then thinks better of it. this means that John comes across as even more locked away than he does in the film.

the police bit is sort of done when Paul puts on a leather hat from the disguises and pretends to be a policeman come to question John, who John then talks back at. he also yells out of the window at some police below at one point.

Paul realises they're never actually going to Luigi's, so John lays the table for him as if they're at a restaurant together (including calling him "Lady McCartney" and "my love")

the bit with the fan is sort of recreated but instead it's John asking Paul whether he truly thinks Wings at the Speed of Sound is the number 1 record in America (which obvs changes it quite a lot)

Julian is brought up - they're toasting to various people/things (ending with "Dr. Winston O'Boogie and Paul Ramon") and Paul says "to Julian" and sort of confronts John about him and how he treated him

during the toasting Paul also mentions "putting hair on a seagull's chest" which John questions and then Paul says it's something his dad used to say

I thought the lift scene/roof scene wouldn't be happening... BUT THEN a lift descended from the ceiling ❤️ the magic of theatre

the kiss still happens and idk but I thought the vibe was a bit different from the film version - less jokey (and no lines after about brushing his teeth/is my name Brian)

Paul: I bought into it that you and me didn't get along well (paraphrasing the Stephen Colbert interview)

they hug at the end of the roof conversation (I was sat very close to this since the actors come in front of the stage to do it and they were both crying and it WAS ALL TOO MUCH 😭😭)

John gets them two guitars to practice with before they go out and they sit opposite each other in chairs and Paul says “I know which one to begin with” and John says “What?” and they lean forward and then the phone rings

when Paul leaves John he’s crying and it’s like okay rip out my heart I guess

the play ends with Paul on the phone to Linda and John on the phone to Yoko, at opposite sides of the stage, and they say “I love you” to their wives but also to each other and it’s ridiculous????

yeah then ‘Give Peace a Chance’ plays which is such a bizarre choice idek

anyway who knows if it's a good play or what the actual people there thought about it because obvs I can have no rational reaction to it but I'm so glad I went to see it because someone on the writing team is one of us I SEE YOU

#anyway somehow they made it gayer #well done #john&paul #two of us play

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holylulusworld · 2 months ago

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Their little maid (2)

Summary: Mafia business is dirty. The brothers need someone to clean up their mess and more.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader x Nick Fowler

Warnings: shy reader, flirty brothers, mafia business, money trouble, mentions of anxiety, pushy Bucky/Nick, overwhelmed reader

Their little maid masterlist

Catch up here: Their little maid (1)

A new job is a good thing. A new job means money and safety. A new job also means that your new bosses dictate your life.

You didn’t have a say when they sent people to get your belongings. Strangers touched all of your things, even your panties, and brought them to Nick and Bucky’s home.

Even though the room they offered you includes a walk-in wardrobe, access to a huge bathroom with a bathtub, and a reading nook, it doesn’t feel like home.

It feels like you’re staying at an overpriced, fancy hotel suite, and you don’t even dare touch anything. You look around the stylish room, sighing deeply. It’s not cozy or inviting. Every piece of furniture looks expensive and modern, but you already miss your old, worn-out armchair.

“You’re not happy.” Bucky leans in the door frame as you stand in the room, looking left and right. You didn’t unpack a thing in case you wanted to leave. Not that you have a choice. Without a job, you cannot pay rent. “Y/N, what is wrong with the room?”

“It’s not a home,” you hug yourself and try to calm down. “My armchair is not here, and I miss my bed and couch.”

“Doll, everything was old and worn out at your apartment. We got everything belonging to you.”

“I love my old armchair,” you sniff. “I know it’s not fancy, but it was mine. I got it from my favorite bookstore. The owner gave it to me after he had to close the store.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, “you have fond memories of the armchair.” He pushes off the door frame to step toward you. “How about this? We drive to your apartment tomorrow, and you get the armchair to make this room your new home.”

“I miss my couch too,” you say and point at the uncomfortable chaise lounge stand in the huge room they offered to you. “That’s not for sitting, only for show.”

Bucky laughs. “I didn’t buy it, doll. It was my mother. She helped us with the interior. I think she found it pretty.”

“It’s pretty but useless.” You wipe your wet eyes and try not to break down as memories of your home flood your mind. “I can’t sit on it.”

“Do we have a problem?” Nick casually walks into your room. “Buck, is something wrong? Does she have problems settling in?”

“She’s missing her armchair and couch. The chaise lounge is unusable according to our sweet new maid.” You shrink into yourself at Bucky’s words. The last thing you wanted was to anger your new bosses.

You wince and clutch your hands to your chest. “I’m sorry…” You choke out, afraid they will fire you now. Everything happened so fast, and you weren’t able to adapt to your new job and life.

“Buck, don’t scare her,” Nick huffs. “It’s alright, sweetness. We will get your couch and armchair and throw that monstrosity out of your room.” He flashes you a stunning smile, making you feel warm.

“Nick,” Bucky hisses. “I offered to get the armchair not months ago. We can have dinner after we get it.”

“How do you want to get it here?” You question. “It’s a big armchair, not a small one.”

Bucky grins. “Doll, we have our ways. If we say something shall happen, it happens. Do not worry. Get your jacket and shoes, and we can go for a ride.”

Going for a ride meant ending up stuck between Nick and Bucky in the backseat of a luxurious SUV. Clint, one of the people getting your belongings earlier today, is driving while his partner, Natasha—a stunning redhead—is chatting him up.

“So, doll, what does a librarian do all day?” Bucky asks. His thigh brushes yours, and you flinch because you can’t move away. Nick is glued to your other side; his warm body makes you all tingly. “Is the life of a librarian exciting?”

“Not really,” you murmur, afraid to speak any louder. “I ordered books, journals, and other resources. Most of the time, I was busy cataloging and keeping track of library materials. I helped patrons find books and to conduct research.”

Nick nods thoughtfully. His hand brushes your knees as he leans closer to hand Bucky your keys. “Sounds nice. I assume you liked your job.”

“Very much,” you gasp and start talking about your job and how you loved to help people. You keep out that it was nice to be around so many books, too. “Sadly, they had to close the library, and I didn’t have enough money to open a bookstore.”

Bucky and Nick share a look as you keep on talking. It’s the longest you've spoken to them since your job interview.

“Do you know the movie You’ve Got Mail?” You ask, and both men shake their heads. “I wanted a bookstore like Meg Ryan had in the movie. I know it’s a stupid romantic idea.” You drop your gaze and fall silent. “No one would’ve come to my store either way.”

The car stops in front of your apartment complex, and you suddenly feel anxious. These men live in a mansion, and now, they are about to look at your small apartment. “I can go in alone.”

“Doll, don’t be ridiculous,” Bucky laughs and opens the door. He slips out, offering his hand to you. You frown. He’s much too nice to a maid. “We got strong men who will carry your things.”

He jerks his head toward a group of men waiting in front of your apartment complex. You chew your lower lips and wring your hands. “Why are they here?”

“I told you,” Bucky smirks when you shy away from him the moment he tries to touch your cheek, “if we want something to be done, it’s considered done.”

“What my brother tries to tell you is that we will take a look at your home, and you can decide what you want to take with you. The guys will lift the heavy stuff,” Nick explains as you try to not panic.

Strangers will walk around your home, and you don’t feel comfortable having strangers in your home or near you. Reluctantly, you follow Nick and Bucky as they start to chat about their plans for tomorrow.

They act as if you aren’t even there when they start talking about their miserable love life and awful dates. You feel sorry for them and offer a tight smile.

“I bet Y/N wouldn’t leave me waiting at the restaurant or look at another man while we are having dinner,” Bucky suddenly grabs your hand to kiss it. “Right, doll?”

“Uh—no,” you squeak because Nick grabbed your other hand to mirror his brother. “That’s not nice.”

“She’s nice and so polite,” Nick whispers and grins wolfishly at his brother. “Right, brother.”

“Let’s get the armchair first.” Bucky narrows his eyes at his brother. “Patience is a virtue, Nick. I told you so many times before. Let’s not hurry things this time.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Nick replies as he looks you up and down. “We have all the time we need…”

Tags in reblog.

#bucky barnes #nick fowler #mafia au #bucky barnes x reader #nick fowler x reader #bucky barnes x reader x nick fowler #shy reader #maid reader

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mynicosensesaretingling · 3 months ago

Note

Hii, can I ask an enemy to lovers with Franco Colapinto?

It’s kinda more open ended than I intended it to be but if you want ( or anyone else is interested) I can try to make a bigger story out of this!! 💓

Hope you enjoy it !

——

You had always found Franco Colapinto insufferable. From the very moment you joined the paddock, there was something about his smug grin and wild curls that got under your skin. He was talented—there was no denying that—but his cockiness drove you crazy. The two of you were always at odds, a rivalry fueled by every glance, every sarcastic comment thrown your way.

And, naturally, you’d been paired with him for media duties today.

“You know,” Franco said, leaning against the wall, arms crossed casually as he glanced over at you, “you don’t always have to look like you want to punch me. We’re just here to talk about the race. Smile, maybe?” You rolled your eyes, the movement almost hurting from how much you’ve been doing it lately. Pinching your nose, you adjusted your jacket as you waited for the interview to begin. “I’m not sure what’s more painful, Franco, sitting through this interview or pretending to like you.”

The driver chuckled, clearly amused by your sharp tone. “Ouch. Come on, I’m not that bad.” You almost snorted at that, “Yeah, you kind of are.”

Franco pushed off the wall, taking a step closer. “And yet, here you are, stuck with me.” His lips were pulling into a smirk as he shrugged his shoulders.

Before you could respond, the interviewer called for you both to step forward. The questions came quickly, most of them focused on the upcoming race. But every time Franco answered, he made sure to include a little jab at you, something subtle, something that made your blood boil just a bit more.

“We’ve got a lot of good drivers out there,” he said smoothly, glancing at you with a teasing smirk, “some of them a bit too competitive, though. Right, (Y/N)?”

You gave him a forced smile, hiding the urge to snap back. “Just trying to keep up with you, Franco.”

The interview wrapped up, and as soon as the cameras were off, you spun around to leave. But before you could storm off, Franco grabbed your arm gently, stopping you. “Hey, wait,” he said, his voice surprisingly softer now, losing the playful edge. “You’re always so quick to walk away.”

“Because I don’t want to deal with your crap,” you shot back, but there was less venom in your words than before. Something about the way he was looking at you made you pause. For a moment, there was silence. Franco’s grip on your arm loosened, and he let his hand drop to his side, his gaze lingering on you.

“I didn’t mean to get under your skin..I mean I kind of did but-” he admitted, his expression a little more serious. “I just—maybe I like pushing your buttons because… you’re one of the only people who pushes back.” You blinked, not expecting that. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying I don’t hate you, (Y/N). I think—maybe—I admire you. A little too much.”

Your heart skipped a beat, caught off guard by the sudden change in his tone. “Admire me? You’ve spent the past few months making my life miserable.”

“Yeah, well,” Franco shrugged, his smirk returning, but it was softer now, almost playful. “Maybe I wasn’t handling it the right way.” You narrowed your eyes at him, unsure of where this was going. “So, what? You’ve been acting like a jerk because… you admire me?”

“Maybe more than admire,” he said, his gaze locking with yours. The way he looked at you—like he wasn’t joking anymore, like he actually meant it—sent a strange warmth through your chest.

The air between you shifted, the tension that had always been there suddenly taking on a different meaning. Maybe it wasn’t hate after all. Maybe it was something else entirely.

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, though there was no heat in your words anymore.

Franco stepped a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Maybe. But you don’t hate me as much as you think you do, do you?” You stared at him, eyes searching his face as your heart was racing in your chest. Maybe he was right. Maybe, just maybe, the rivalry had been hiding something else all along.

With a small, almost imperceptible smile, you finally let your guard down, just a little. “I guess we’ll find out.” Franco grinned, and for the first time, you didn’t find it annoying.

#f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 random #f1 drivers #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #franco colapinto x reader #f1 oneshot #franco colapinto oneshot

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vivwritesfics · 1 year ago

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No Need To Ask

Chapter Twenty - Playing Happy Families

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

2.2K words

Series Masterlist

“Please, Carlos, I didn’t kill your father,” said Oscar. He still cowered behind Y/N, still used her to protect him from the wrath of her husband.

Coward, thought Carlos as he stared at him, his expression filled with fury.

Oscar was scared. Of course he was. He was merely a mouse facing down a lion. “What were you doing in my house, then?” Carlos asked, once again attempting to pull his wife closer. But Y/N stayed where she was. She wasn’t budging.

“I was doing work for Mark!”

“What sort of work?” Now, don’t get him wrong, he wasn’t entertaining this idea of Oscar on a mission for Webber. He couldn’t have been, not when everybody (including Webber) was compromised.

Oscar opened and closed his mouth several times. He couldn’t speak, not when he was oh so afraid. “Carlos, let him speak,” Y/N said, finally taking a step closer to her husband. She placed her hand on his chest and Carlos visibly deflated. For the first time in their marriage, Y/N felt like she had power.

When he did, Y/N turned to Oscar. “Go ahead.”

Oscar sucked in a deep breath. “Mark had me out renewing contracts for the weapons trade.”

“Why? Why did he send you in person?”

“Because I needed a distraction.”

“From?” Carlos’s questions came in quick succession.

Y/N looked between the two of them. It was like a game of tennis, the two of going back and forth.

But then Oscar looked straight at Y/N. It was clear, to Carlos, at least. And it infuriated him. He would have stood up, threatened Oscar with his fist, but Y/N still had a hold of him. And he didn’t want to do anything to upset his wife, his love.

“I believe him,” she said as she cupped his cheek. “I really don’t think he’d do anything to hurt us.”

But Carlos couldn’t accept that, not with the footage he had seen. He knew what his wife was saying, that Oscar wouldn’t have broken into their house or threaten them in any way while she was there. That Oscar cared for her too much.

Carlos let out a sigh. “Hand over any weapons you have,” he said and Oscar lifted up his suit jacket, revealing that he had no weapons on him. An uneasy feeling bubbled up in his stomach. In the video he had watched, Carlos had clearly seen a gun in Oscars hands.

“Why did I see you on my security footage?”

Oscar shut his eyes. He knew this was coming, and he knew Carlos wasn’t going to believe anything he had to say, but he said it anyway. “I watched the guys that broke into your house drive away. If I wasn’t on my own, I would have tried to stop them, but I had to get into the house, had to make sure Y/N was okay.” He struggled to look Carlos in the eye. “I saw Sainz on the ground and I had to check he was okay. Because, if someone can get to a head of family, then none of us are safe.”

Suddenly, Carlos fell against the wall. “Carlos!” Y/N gasped as he held onto her, pulling her with him. He looked at his wife, his pretty little wife. The woman that had been by his side through all of it. Not once had she complained as he kept her in this little cabin.

He reached towards her, pushing her hair away from her face. “Mi amor,” he said as he breathed out. “He died trying to protect us.”

Y/N threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him. Her head was against his chest as Carlos held her tight, more for himself than her.

It seemed, for just a moment, Carlos had forgotten that Oscar was there with them. Holding the back of Y/N’s head, he stared at the Australian man across from them. “I will tell Webber that I have you. We’ll decide what to do with you after that,” he said and let go of his wife, walking over to the laptop on the desk.

“I’ll make something to eat,” Y/N said and walked into the kitchen. Oscar followed her.

“You can take a shower, if you’d like to,” she offered as she turned on the stove, Oscar sitting at the table behind her.

He shook his head. “Later,” he said and shrugged off his suit jacket. “I… is Carlos going to kill me?”

Without meaning to, Y/N snorted. She let a laugh and shook her head. “No, Osc. I won’t let him,” she said as she filled the pot with pasta. Too much for three people, but Oscar had said he hadn’t eaten in a while. He was bound to be hungry.

“What happened between you and Carlos?” He asked and she turned towards him, confusion written on her face. “Last time I saw you, you hated him.”

Oh, that was right. She had, hadn’t she? She had hated him. God, that felt like so long ago, now. She couldn’t imagine hating him now. “I don’t know,” she answered as she began cutting up chicken and adding it to a pan. “Being trapped alone with someone really changes things,” she said. “Don’t get me wrong, Oscar. I don’t love him, but I could. I think I’m falling for him.”

“If you’re happy, then I’m happy for you,” said Oscar, incredibly mature of a twenty-two-year-old.

From the doorway, Carlos cleared his throat. Y/N and Oscar both snapped their attention towards him, waiting for him to speak. “I have informed Webber that you have made it to my safehouse,” he said as he leaned against the doorframe. “We have come to an agreement that if you anything goes wrong, Webber will dispose of your family.”

Oscar gulped. “What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t threaten my wife in any way, and you’ll be fine,” he said and walked back towards the laptop.

“See, you’ll be fine,” said Y/N as she plated everything up.

***

Their already odd situation seemed to be even weirder, now. At first, Carlos wanted to force Oscar to sleep on the floor, treating him like a disease-ridden dog.

But Y/N didn’t allow that. She got whatever cushions and pillows she could and set up a makeshift bed on the kitchen floor for Oscar. She had given him a blanket and made sure he had something to drink before she and Carlos went to bed.

For the first week, Carlos insisted on locking the door through to the kitchen. He still didn’t completely trust Oscar, no matter what Y/N had said and no matter the threat that was looming over him. He kept his gun under his pillow, ready to stride whenever necessary.

But, as time went on, Carlos began trusting him more and more. He listened as Oscar and Y/N sat together in the kitchen, chatting around the kitchen table. He watched how Oscar was with his wife, sweet and caring but not in a way that would have him concerned.

It was like they were playing happy families, the boys getting along for the sake of Y/N.

After two and a half weeks, Carlos had to make a supply run. They’d managed to ration out the food for as long as possible, but they were running low, extremely low.

“Does anybody need anything?” He asked as he walked into the kitchen, looking between the two of them.

Y/N looked at Oscar. She stood from the kitchen table and walked over to her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck and standing on her tiptoes as she whispered something in his ear.

Carlos let out a gasp. He couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around her and spinning her around. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing her, closing his eyes as she leaned into him. “I’ll get some,” she said and kissed her again.

“Just don’t get your hopes up,” Y/N replied as she walked him towards the door of the cabin.

“I won’t,” Carlos said and kissed her again before he left.

After what she had told him, things were beginning to make sense for Carlos. His wife had woken up in the early hours of every morning to throw up. Carlos was concerned, but she was always feeling better as the day went on, telling him that it was just nerves.

It was hard not to get his hopes up, but this was what Carlos had wanted since he was twenty. It was a long time coming; the timing couldn’t have been more right. But it was also terrible, terrible timing.

He knew what he had to do, knew he had to get her back into the safety of their house as quickly as possible. But, was the house really safe anymore?

The footage of the people that had broken into their home had circulated through the chat forum that had the other heads of families. They’d learnt it was the same group of people that had attacked them. They’d all taken the same thing: paperwork. Details of deals and crimes that they had committed. Their trading routes and what they traded, the money they made. Details of people in other families or people they were going to have killed.

If the authorities, those more powerful than the people the heads of family paid off, got a hold of that paperwork, they were fucked, royally, royally fucked. But Carlos couldn’t think about that right now. He was going to be a dad!

Maybe, he was maybe going to be a dad. He couldn’t let himself get his hopes up.

In the town, Carlos bought what food they would need. He wasn’t concentrating much as he grabbed what they needed. His fathers house still needed to be checked, but Carlos imagined the scene there would have been much the same as his house.

They needed to move, to find somewhere new to live. Somewhere with a lot more security, somewhere nobody would find them. Somewhere they could raise a child.

Carlos grabbed a three boxes of pregnancy tests. He got a proper pillow for Oscar and headed home.

It was strange, being outside of the cabin. Carlos had never felt so naked, so unprotected before. He didn’t feel vulnerable, per say. Not like somebody was watching him as he made his way back to the cabin.

When he walked in, Y/N greeted him immediately, jumping up from the kitchen table to run into his arms. “Did you get it?” She asked and Carlos nodded his head. He reached into the bag and pulled out three boxes of pregnancy tests. He placed them in her arms and watched as she ran into the bathroom.

In just a few minutes, he’d find out whether he was a father or not. Carlos busied himself with putting away the things he had gotten from the shops. He gave Oscar the pillow he had bought for him and waited in the kitchen for Y/N to emerge from the bathroom.

Carlos and Oscar hadn’t talked without Y/N there, not since the night of their wedding. “So,” Carlos started as he looked at the younger man.

“So,” Oscar replied, patting his thighs. The clothes he was wearing belonged to Carlos, but there wasn’t anything else for him to wear.

“When this is all over, would you go back to Norris or Webber?” Carlos asked as he got himself something to drink.

Oscar shrugged his shoulders. “Webber, I guess. He’s my boss, so, unless he sends me somewhere else, I’ll be with him,” he said, now scratching at his legs. He looked at Carlos, properly looking into his eyes. “I really am sorry about your father,” he said, and Carlos swallowed the lump in his throat. “I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.”

Nodding his head, Carlos took a sip of his drink. Before he could reply with anything, Y/N ran into the room, at least three pregnancy tests in her hands. She held them up to Carlos, her expression not giving anything away.

Carlos took one of the pregnancy tests from her hands. Two little lines sat on the stick. With a shaking hand, he took another stick, this one also having two little lines. He grabbed a hold of the last one, also having two little lines.

He said nothing as he wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up. “We’re having a baby!” Y/N cheered as she wrapped her legs around Carlos’s waist. “We’re actually having a baby.” She was quieter this time, resting her forehead against his.

Carlos kissed her. It was long and slow and passionate. He refused to pull away until his lungs were crying out for air. “We’re having a baby,” he echoed as he walked out of the kitchen, kicking the door shut behind him. “We’re actually having a baby.”

He was so fucking happy.

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likeyourfatherinhell · 12 days ago

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DEV'S BIG GHOST RAFFLE FOR PALESTINE 🖤🖤🖤

‼️I AM ONLY ABLE TO AFFORD SHIPPING ITEMS TO PEOPLE WITHIN THE UNITED STATES‼️ US RESIDENTS ONLY, SORRY 😭

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-Framed set list, original copy, given to my siblings and I by staff at the Mansfield, MA Re-Imperatour ritual 8/19/23. It's creased down the middle and a little blemished from being in our hands the whole show, but it's lived untouched in its frame ever since we got home that night. will send it to you in-frame. i'm not sure if this item will be as valuable to anyone else as it is to me, but if so, donate $66 for an entry to win it! 🖤

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seventhcallisto · 1 year ago

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PROLOGUE

—Deep Down.

Toc/cw; scenting. omega in heat. talk of s3x. featuring alpha g-idle. Language. Mature Content! Talk of gender, sex, and the weird system that a/b/o roles have, including the terrible hierarchy system. It's my series so I make my own rules, period!

Never, absolutely never, does a person get their second sex when they're born. It's no surprise they get it towards puberty, yet the majority of times, heats or ruts do not start happening until they're in their late teens- early twenties. Betas never went through that issue. They hardly ever were considered more than peace makers. For a while, they were the least chosen. While not as valuable as an alpha or as wonderful at comforting like an omega. There was still some dull middle ground. They weren't that special.

That was only for a bit, anyway. Eventually, omegas took that spot, lower on the hierarchy, whilst betas gained the middle place. You didn't agree with the system, though. It doesn't matter your second sex. It matters how you hold yourself, how you go about through life with a second sex.

And you stood by that for decades.

You took hold of a company and shaped yourself to fit their mold. Although a foreigner in this strange city, following a dream you didn't know you could grasp, you still went for it. You molded yourself to fit whatever they wanted. A calm, level-headed, peace-maker, beta. With a heart of fire and determination that'll set a field ablaze. You worked your ass off. Getting up as early as possible. Practicing. Making something of yourself. Training yourself. Learning the language.

Someone who could make even the quietest of omegas open up, and the loudest of alphas silent. You were a patient and composed person.

And when you came out on top, the very top, unreachable and untouchable, you knew you maxed out your potential. It was only then that you let it slip from your hands and into the grasp of another. You let them see what you could do, and now it was their turn.

They took it with stride. Quickly, you found yourself linked to a group you'd be a part of for life. You were surprised, to say the least.

"It smells like testosterone in here," you grimaced.

Eventually, you did get used to the stench of 8 alphas. Soon enough, you could actually smell their undertones. A mix of everything drowns every corner of the apartment you live in with them.

You were fairly the least popular in the group by a good amount. Sometimes, you chalked it up to people being oblivious. It never hurt you, why would it? You're a rare gem. Sometimes, it needs a light shined on it to really sparkle.

It's years later of cleaning up after messy alphas and teaching yourself tricks to get used to their behaviors, that you suddenly notice a difference in yourself.

"Hey, you smell different," seonghwa scruches his nose, a pleasantly surprised look on his face. You slip your shoes off in the doorway, closing it behind you. "New perfume," you reply, half hazerdly, sliding your keys into the key bowl. "I thought you liked your own scent?" He comes over and helps you with the handbag in your arm.

You hand it over to the taller guy, slipping your mask down your face. "I'm starting to stink, so i changed my perfume scent. Maybe your guys' stench is making me allergic, or I'm getting sick." You sigh tiredly when he hangs your jacket up in the closet. "No, not sick. I know what you smell like when you're sick," seonghwas eyebrows scrunch.

"You smell.. sweeter.. have you been hanging out with any omegas lately?" He questions, folding his arms over his chest. His white sweater is rolled up his arms, and his black pants hang loosely. Surely, if seonghwa is to lounge around, he's gonna do it with style. You laugh, avoiding his eyes when he catches you looking him up and down. "Ha, yeah, actually. I'm helping Kimmie prep for her heat. She plans to have a couple of mini devils running around this summer. Can you believe it?" You scoff, mentioning your long time once-trainee close friend who you grew attached too.

"Kimmie with kids, I would have never thought," you mumble under your breath, years ago you would of scoffed at the idea of young- impressionable kimmie, mature enough to consider having kids with her beta husband whom you also knew to be a trainee from before. Are you really getting that old? Seonghwa stares for a couple of seconds. His piercing eyes guide you up and down. You're staring back now. Seonghwa doesn't flinch. "Right, let's hope kim is ready for that," he laughs, and just like that, the tension breaks.

You both shuffle into the living room. Calling it a night.

Not even two days later, you're on the couch scrolling mindlessly on your phone whilst you wait for the guys to get dressed. The practice video for one of your group songs is soon. You've only been able to practice by yourself up until that point.

Yeosang takes a seat next to you, pushing you into his side. The alpha gently taps your leg to gain your attention. "What's up?" You put your phone down, giving him your full attention. "My scent is wearing off on you," he almost pouts. You smile, turning towards him and opening your arms. "Okay, c'mere." You beckon his face into your neck. Afterward, you let him take the lead.

It takes two seconds for you to realize he's not scenting you anymore. He didn't even start. "Yeosang?" You call out, threading your fingers on the back of his neck hairs. He hums, and it sounds so far away. His scent grows heavier. "You okay?" You attempt to pull back. he chases your neck. You can hear him breathing heavily, struggling to catch his breath after every strong inhale. His soft hand snakes around your neck, gently leaning your head the opposite way so he can get more room.

You follow, cause you trust your pack member. You can feel his mouth part, his lips drawing closer to your pulse. Your eyebrows furrowed. What are you doing? Obviously, something is up. You pull away from yeosangs grasp. Backing up just a bit. You put a hand to his chest to distance yourself. It's a few seconds before yeosang seems to come back, his foggy eyes focusing. "Sorry, I.. you smell really different lately," he admits, twisting his fingers in his lap.

"How so?" You question him. "Like.. sweeter. I can smell it linger, deep down under our scents I can smell.. an omega," he admits, his eyebrows twitch down. You haven't been to Kimmies house since seonghwa asked, yet you've completely washed and cleaned yourself of her scent entirely. You don't know what to say.

"Well," you fold your legs into your lap. "I think I might be coming down with something, I changed my perfume. It could be that, too?" You can't tell if you're reassuring yourself or yeosang. He hums. His eyes search your front, glancing up at you and then down to your neck where your scent glands are. "Could you wear one of my shirts for practice? I didn't get to properly scent you, and it'd make me feel better. " his tone is more of a demand yet hes still a little shy with it. Behind his eyes, you can see the strange look he casts aside.

You smile wearily. "Sure."

Yeosang had picked a black shirt he wore very often. It took him a hot minute, but by the time you watched him go through everything in his closet, the guys were done and slipping on their shoes. Once he was satisfied with his choice, he handed it to you. A shirt that would be tight fit for yeosang hanged off you. The deepest scents you can pick out are cocoa butter and honeyed citrus, like lemonade. There's the distant scent of strong tea. The cocoa butter blends well into his scent, perfectly layered. Perfectly yeosang.

You took a deep enhale, liking the freshness of his smell. Not noticing the satisfactory smile on yeosangs face, you slipped off into his bathroom and exchanged your shirt for his. Leaving yours behind. Once you came out, you were surprised to still see him there. His scent is everywhere in this room, heavier than normal.

His eyes look your form up and down. You give a tiny spin, smiling awkwardly. Finally, his eyes meet yours, clouded with an unknown emotion. It's a few seconds of silence. You never break off eye contact.

"We're gonna be late!" Hongjoong shouts out from the front door. His voice echoes in the hallway, leading to yeosangs' room. Yeosang smiles, looking away. He makes haste to the door and leaves you. You let the breath out you were holding. What was that?

Practice takes a hard minute to start, the coolness of the room makes it easier to warm up. You're not sweating when you begin repeating steps, adjusting what you deem unfinished or sloppy. Not long does the heat kick into the room. You find yourself removing your hoodie.

"Let's get started" the manager hits the button on the camera, beginning the recording. Your eyes follow your own movement. All of ateez has said you're the ace of the group, in everything you do it seems well-executed. You doubt that sometimes.

Every move and every breath is conditioned from years of practice everyday 'til you couldn't feel your legs. Sometimes you'd go as far as to even run, dance, and jump in terrible stilletos. Which worked out in the end since the majority of the time you'd have to wear heels or platforms to match the height of the guys during every event and performance.

Sweat pools on your collar, your neck, and your forehead as you work across the room. You can smell every one of the guys as they pass around you, a flurry of scents clog your senses. You try to focus on the choreography.

You tried until your shoulder slams into someone, throwing you off balance and onto the hard wood floor. Your elbow bounces off the wood. You slide to a stop quickly. "Fuck!" you curse at the sting in your leg, hip, and ankle. The room grows extremely quiet, the music stops as quickly. Mingi bends down to your level, shock still evident on his face. "Sorry! shit, my bad, are you okay?" He reaches for your head.

"Ow" you whine, like actually whine, instead of brushing it off like you normally would. Touching your elbow. You both simultaneously notice the blood dripping off your elbow. "Why aren't you watching where you're going!?" Yunho walks up to mingi. Mingi stands up from next to you. "I didn't do it on purpose!" Mingi defends, his jaw clenches. The two stare daggers, a tense standoff so sudden you don’t know truly if you falling is the cause of it or if something else is at play. Hongjoong steps forward to stop them. A heated discussion begins.

Wooyoung and San stand back, Jaws clenched, at any moment they look ready to pounce. Yeosang stands with Seonghwa and Jongho, who look just as concerned about the growing argument, yet their faces murge into something completely different at the smell in the air.

It's something no one can put their finger on.

Your ever growing weirdly sweet scent is surprising to even you, your gut twists in an unsettled way. You don't look at their faces, trying to understand the smell and your sudden shift. What the hell is going on with you?

"Boys, out in the hallway now, please" Jongsik. The manager you've had for years steps forward. As the oldest in the room take charge, the guys looked challenged. "What about her!?" Yunho shouts out, fustrated. In the distance another aurgument begins. Mingi squats back down to your level, gently pulling your attention back to him with his hands on either side of your face. "it's not that bad, yeah? It's alright?" He wants to reassure you. "Mingi" you practically whine, pulling at his wrist. The smell of harsh and swirling emotions makes your nose scrunch, it's intense and somewhat intoxicating.

You're dizzy.

Jongsik stands firm. "Out!" He repeats himself pointing to the practice room door. He reaches for mingi's shoulder. He who pushes the older man off, standing abruptly.

Hongjoong, the pack leader, is the one that rounds up the boys and pushes them out, even mingi. Before he shuts the door. He looks at you. He's so tempted to just run back in, coddle you and wrap your elbow in bandages. Yet he closes the door anyways.

There's no defiance or whining from you. because jongsik is a beta, and already mated. He's taken on a fatherly role to you when he pulls you to your feet. "I don't feel good.." You slur. Placing a hand on your head.

"Hey, it's gonna be alright. We're gonna get you to the hospital, alright?"

You lay on an examination bed, squirming by yourself. Anxiously you wait twirling your hand around the bandage on your elbow.

"This is something we've never seen before." With your heightened hearing, you can feel they're talking about you.

"She showed signs of being a beta for years. How could something like this happen so suddenly? It's impossible." Whispers echo in your mind.

What the hell is going on?

"Hello," a doctor, also a lady, steps in. her face is covered with a mask. "I'm Dr Liana." You try to focus, but the ache in your stomach is distracting. "It seems to have been there for a while, most likely due to continuous, omega activities, from what my colleagues and I have assumed."

"Have you been noticing anything different from your usual routine?"

You recount what you can, anything you find weird yourself. And there's so many clues, like when you stole each hoodie and wore it from everyone for a week straight just because 'you wanted too'. Or how touchy you've been recently especially with hongjoong, your pack leader. The scent change, the continuous need to please your members and let them have their way lately.

How you, oh God, how you've started collecting everyone's clothing in your closet, you called it a clothing pile. It's a nest. You've been nesting.

You've been not so subtlety feeding this hunger within you.

Realization has dawned on you for the first time in a month. And after a few more tests, you've spent a total of two days in the hospital.

Once you're out, you're immediately escorted to a heat sanctuary. A common locked and secure place for omegas going into heat.

"What I'm hearing is you're about to go into heat. It'll be a difficult process for you considering you're a beta turned omega, and it's fairly late for you to be getting your first heat, but I'm sure there's plenty of options for you."

There were plenty of other options, yet you opted for the least embarrassing and least dreadful one. It was too late to take heat suppressants. Now, you're stuck in a somewhat luxurious hotel room with glorified room service and plenty of meds to sedate you for a week or less. They're actually so you can't feel the actual pain that comes with a heat without having a knot to sedate the feeling. If you really hoped you could sleep it off, you'd be dead wrong.

The specific question of; "do you have anyone in mind that could take care of you during your heat?" Really lingered. You thought about it. Maybe more than once, but you turned it down. No way. Nooo wayyyy. You wouldn't dare go past the first pack of alphas your mind landed on. Wouldn't even touch that book or open it in your minds eye.

Everything is very sensitive for the first day. You sweat a ton. You feel like you've lost weight, although you eat when you're not... 'foggy'. You feel the sweat pool at every corner of your temporary bed.

Anything you can get your hands on you pull, hard, and rip and tear. A pile of blankets and pillows are strewn on the floor in one giant large pile. Every once in a while you'll come back to your senses and childishly get upset at what you're doing.

No you've got nothing against omegas. You just didn't ask to be one, so therefore you're mad about being one.

Once satisfied, you spraw out and get to working on yourself with whatever you can, clothes and all. Toys. Plugs. Lube. You would have never guessed you'd end up this way. You name it, and they have it. They say there's nothing more satisfying than a knot, yet you don't enjoy the idea of what comes after. Pups? Ew. Is there even anything to counteract that? How do people just sleep with a stranger during a heat and not feel scared about what will happen in the moment? There's nothing wrong with it. It's just not your particular cup of tea.

As a beta, or.. when you were one, it wasn't very hard to find someone to hook up with. Betas have the abilities to hook up with anyone, alphas, omegas, and other betas. Although pregnancies and knotting aren't as easy for betas(you're not a big fan of wrapping it) it'll work eventually if tried enough. There's this middle ground for betas who can have it all. Relationships get difficult when you aren't as drawn to each other as an alpha and omega are, but with patience, it'll work.

There's this gross scent lingering under your skin, you can still smell the scent of your old skin, the beta you once were is suddenly being washed away by a sweet, tropical smell, an omega in full bloom. It's your second day. Yet you couldn't get more miserable. Two or three more days of this? Seriously.

You've never been a girly girl, begging for your way or kissing up to get it. You were commonly told you were a tomboy growing up. Maybe that played its role on your first designated sex. Your company pushed that role, too. Tough girl act. Rapper, Dancer. Never the face of the group. But you weren't complaining. You were the top of top trainees. Nothing could beat you down.

Yet, dressing up in baggy clothes and never looking sexually appealing was your role in the group. Tomboy rapper. Compared to the beginning of fourth gen, you were considered a girl crush but nothing else. least lines, least screen time, least roles. I mean. You trained for this, right?

Now you're stuck with a new second gender you didn't ask for. Pushing you farther behind the scenes. Just your luck.

As soon as your first heat ends. You realize you weren't as bad. Apparently, the first heat ever is the easiest. You're supposed to get worse. Seriously. Worse? God. You can't take this. You go to the only people you know won't make a big deal out of your new.. thing.

Soyeon places a hot cup of tea right in front of you. And you can smell the scent suppressant coming from the steam. "this is supposed to help?" You sniff at it warily, grimacing at the factory like smell.

"You came to us, at our dorm, smelling like the biggest ball of 'fuck me please', take it or leave it." She clicks her tongue at you, propped up on her bed. Minnie takes a seat opposite of you, as does shuhua. "You cant even smell me, you're on scent suppressants" you groan, swirling the tea. "How do yall cope." You sigh and chug the content of the large tea cup. Soyeon laughs, minnie grimaces, and despite having a shocked look, shuhua pumps her fist in encouragement.

You've come to the group of alpha women cause, well, they're your best friends. And they're the most encouraging about any and all supplements and suppressants. They've single handedly encouraged everyone you know to take suppressants. From the front door, you hear it open and close, stepping down the hallway comes yuqi and miyeon, who do a double take.

Yuqi takes a giant whiff, and her eyes bulge. "What happened to you!?" She coughs at the stench of omega. Something she doesn't find common in their room when you're around. Miyeon scoots to the side when Soojin pushes through with a cake of some sort and a tiny charcuterie board. She places it down in front of you. You can tell the alpha in her is desperately trying to please you.

"Somehow, our poor, once beta, girl friend has changed sex." Soyeon speaks through a bite of twizzlers. You don't comment at her choice of words. Yuqi and Miyeon scoot into the room, staring at their doting member.

"There you go." Soojin pats your head and takes a seat on the bean bag in front of you. "Thanks," you sigh, digging in. The cake, which soojin explains, is a long-lasting scent changer. Magic is baked into every bite.

As for the charcuterie board. It's just something to get you some protein with the lack of good supplements in your system. In her eyes, you've lost at least half of your body weight. You haven't. Yet she's still encouraging you to take care of yourself from such a rushed heat.

"Poor girl," miyeon sighs, "I've never heard of that happening to anyone before. How's that even possible?" She takes to removing her hoodie and placing it down properly. Yuqi shuffles off her bag. Plopping onto the bed next to you. "How'd the guys react?" She steals a piece of meat from your board.

"I haven't told them" you sigh, the room goes silent.

"That's fucked up" yuqi laughs. Miyeon slaps her ankle. "So we're the first to know?" Shuhua confirms, you nod. "Wow, I'm sure they'll be happy about that," soyeon laughs lightly. You tear your eyes off shuhua. "What do you mean by that?" You clearly speak, eyebrows pulled down. Minnie places a hand on your ankle to get your attention. "Well, we're your girl pack. We'll always be your girl pack." she looks nervous.

"But the last time I hung out with you, your boys stared at me like I was an intruder in their territory." she pats your ankle. Your eyebrows pull taunt. You want to defend them. "What? No way.." You truly think about it. "Whatever you say, your boys aren't as good as we are at keeping up with our contribution to not being alpha whores" soyeon sighs pushing to sit up. "Especially mingi, he's the whoriest of them all, he goes into rut every week it seems. He needs a heavy dose of rut suppressants." she takes another chunk off her twizzler.

"You shouldn't feel obligated to tell them first. Butt.. you shouldn't be surprised when they get upset about you telling us first." The girls all nod. You fall back onto soyeons pillows. A puff of sandal wood and cinnamon surrounds you. Slowly dying down as the tea takes its hold on your heightened senses. "Maybe I should have thought this through," you rub at your eyes.

"You're always welcomed here." soojin clears your mind, patting her hand against your hip in a friendly gesture. "This won't change anything. You're still my- our best friend," soojin speaks on behalf of the girls. Everyone hums to confirm.

"Thanks," you say genuinely. "It's a bit late for you to get a drive all the way home, What'd the company say to the guys?" Miyeon perks up from the edge of the bed. "Something about me needing medical evaluation. I'm pretty sure they think I'm still in the hospital." Yuqi scoots up next to you. "Did you check your phone?"

You didn't even think about it, pulling it from your pocket. You try to power it on. "No, everything was rushed. I didn't have a chance to check anything before I had to give it up so I wouldn't expose the place I was at." The screen doesn't light up. It's completely dead.

"It's dead," you pass it to soojin, who already had her hand out to take it. She plugs it into soyeons charger. "Well, I guess you're stuck here." Shuhua and yuqi topple on top of you, squishing you into the mattress.

"Sleepover!"

The next morning, you wake up sore. Not because of anything the girls did but because of such a long trial of whatever you did to yourself in the haze of heat. You groan when you shift your hip, burying yourself closer to the center of the makeshift bed you made in the living room.

The night was full of movies and being doted on by every one of the girls. Things aren't supposed to change because of your new sex, and that's remained true. They just baby you a little bit more than usual. "Shuhua, 'mega! Come eat! Now!" Minnie yells from the kitchen. The nickname startles you, something you've never heard before is somewhat pleasent to your ears. There's stomping towards the living room. Your head slams back down onto the pillow, pretending to sleep.

"I know you're awake." yuqis smile can be heard through her words. You can't help the prying of your lip. "Nu-uh," you grin, eyes still closed. "Get up!" She jumps on you, pulling you into a suffocating hug that she wiggles around in. You laugh and pull her equally as close. After the struggle of a couple of seconds, your exhaustion returns. Your arms fall limply around her waist.

"You doing alright?" She asks, picking herself up and off of you so you can breathe. "Yeah, I just tired myself out this week." you laugh, embarrassed. "Don't worry," shuhua perks her head up from the couch next to you. "You should have heard when yuqi had her first rut," shuhua laughs menacingly, yuqi springs up. "Shut up!" She yells. "She wouldn't stop! All night and day! We had to quarantine the whole top floor!" Shuhuas words stop on occasion when yuqi is wrestling to cover her mouth. You laugh at them.

"Hey," soojin stands over, ignoring her members. "Hi," you smile back. "Hungry?" She lends you her hand, pulling you up off the floor. "Starved," you take it, embracing her rose filled scent.

A platter of delicious food is placed right in front of you. Breakfast in their apartment is somewhat new to you. You've never really been able to stay long when you visit. Maybe you're starting to realize the guys have a stronger hold on you than you thought. Speaking of the guys. As soon as you finish your plate, Soojin places your phone down in front of you. The screen is still black, signaling she hasn't turned it on.

"You're gonna want to answer your boy toys before they stalk you down themselves," soyeon gestures. She's not wrong.

You power your phone on and let it reboot for a second. Yuqi is still eating with shuhua, talking to miyeon and minnie about something you don't pay attention to. Your phone makes a continuous notification sound when all of your messages pop up.

104 missed messages. 32 missed calls.

You're in deep shit.

Taglist: @0325tiny @bratty-tingz @lelaleleb

(Thank you for reading ♡)

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