#of course like. 8 years later there's a lot I would do differently with that fic now

[yansurnummu]

TES fest day 8: free day

The first fic I ever finished and posted was The Blood of the Coven in 2016, which followed Anthelion through the Dark Brotherhood quest line in Oblivion.

I set a goal at the beginning to do at least one of these prompts, and somehow I actually managed to do them all! I had lots of fun and it was great to see everyone else's amazing art and writing as well :)

[first-edition]

Bent Over

Summary- You may be Bucky’s assistant but your still is pretty wife. When the other board members take a liking to you bucky puts them in their place by showing them exactly who you belong two.

Cw- literally just smut basically, P-in-V, Unprotected, doggystyle, hair pulling, choking kink, Sargent! Authority kink, reader has long hair and wears heels, Afab reader, brief mention of drool, dirt talk, public sex, exhibitionistm kink, dom/sub, Dom!bucky, CEO!bucky, assistant reader, spanking, pet names, brief clit play, bucky fucking you raw over the meeting table with others watch. SLIGHTLY PROOF READ.

A/N this is by far the most….UNHOLY thing I’ve ever written in my 11 years of writing fanfiction and smut so i encourage you to read the content warning above and MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

ENJOY

You've worked for Bucky for hydra company since you were born. You previously worked for your father Alexander Pierce when you turned 14. But when his assistant double crossed him and killed him, that same assistant, James Buchanan Barnes took over the company at 18. At first you hated him having nothing left, not like your father was good. Of course the company should've gone to you..and well it did but at 14 years old it wasn't yours to run. 

You two would bicker and often hand in hand fight regardless of being his assistant. Many year later and many fail assanation attempts on him you married him. You've been James's assistant for 11 years, and you've been married to him for 3. Your bickering had ended in a lust induced fight that led to feeling being expressed at gunpoint then a rough night that left you partially, and deliciously crippled the next morning, which prompted Bucky to make you breakfast in bed and draw you a bath. 

Your work relationship is far different from home. At home he never lets you only want you whether that's wrapping his arms around you for a cuddle or being balls deep in your cunt. 

At work however he's the right amount of distance and so are you. It's become a mutual thing to not let anyone know in the tower that you and the big boss are married. 

You walk into the building holding a tray of coffees and an arm full of files. Your hair up in a ponytail, you wear a black knee high pencil skirt with a fairly loose but classy dark blue blouse, your black stockings paired with the jet black louis vuittons red bottoms bucky bought you last week. 

“I made the coffee run.” you say setting the tray down in the office room. 

Everyone who orders comes scrambling to their order without a thank you as usual. 

“You do a lot around her, don't you miss pierce.” you hear an older man's voice speak and you turn to see one of the board members and the other men on his team behind him. 

“Welcome Mr Cain you are early..i'll have to let mr barnes know.” you say pursing your lips in slight annoyance. 

“Yes well i'm not going to miss a chance at this pretty face now am I?” he says lifting your chin you pull away from him. 

“Excuse Me.” you say before turning back and walking down the hall area. They of course unauthorizedly follow close behind you. You stop at bucky's office doors as the desk girl presses the button allowing the doors to open you step in seeing bucky standing over to the window watching the morning view of the city as he shines up his metal hand, which your father gave him after a coup was sent on him he used bucky as a human shield. 

“Mr barnes. It appears Mr Cain has arrived early.” you says 

“Love the way you say my name sweetheart.” Cain speaks slapping your ass making you jump and wanting you punch the ever living outta him. 

“Hmm.” Bucky hums as he turns to see Mr cain. 

“Are the others here?” he asks you. 

“No sir…they will be arriving at 8. Like you asked.” you say knowing bucky will be pissed off at cain with being early and treating you as such. A small smile forming on your face. 

“You're 15 minutes early Cain. Were you offered coffee or bourbon? " Bucky says. 

“No james-” Cain begins. 

“Good.” Bucky cuts him off. He looks to you and holds out his hands for the files. You walk over to him handing them to your beloved husband. He takes a moment to look through the pages.

“Early Mr Cain but lacking in so many areas, your files aren't in the stock.” he says. 

“I had it transferred digitally.” Cain speaks proudly. Bucky tilts his head to the side slightly and nods a bit before handing the files back to you. You walk to the cabinet and bend down to sort them into the right orders. You hear a crash and a grunt knowing Cain is face down on the table and Bucky is holding him there. 

“Im old school Cain i like the files printed, i also like to be on time, not early, not late…on. Fucking. Time.” bucky huffs cain struggles against the cold black marble desk. 

“Understood?” Bucky asks. 

“Y-yes..sir..” Cain gurgles out. Bucky lets him go and stands up fixing his suit. 

“Good. I'll see you in um….10 minutes. Office room 8. y/n.” bucky says looking at you as you close the files cabinet. 

“Yes sir?” you ask completely unfazed but the situation as Cain picks himself up. 

“Send the maid in to clean up the mess and get room 8 ready for the meeting… also escort Mr Cain out and show twords the room.” he says you nod your heels clicking against the tiled floor as you walk out cain following you. 

—-------

You stand on the side of the door way welcoming the men of the board into the meeting room one by one they all join in and in some way in their own eye fuck you, or get a touch of you in some way. 

They all take their seats and bucky walks in after them. You're about to close the door when he stops you. 

“I'll need you for this one doll.” He says he never calls you his personal nickname at work. 

“S-sir?” you ask 

“Come on love.” he says, taking your hand leading you into the room. He takes a seat at the head of the table as usual and you stand beside him. 

“So I realize that we are gathered here for the section rating. How our router facilities are going and what we are going to do about the one that got taken down. Simply kill the one in charge, the router taken down, and forty the rest." Bucky begins. 

“In the budget.” someone begins. Bucky holds his hand up. 

“The budget is not the problem. The problem is that we have to much money and aren't using it to put more into the structure..but that's not the problem i want to address today no…the harassment and sexualization of my wife is getting out of hand.'' Bucky speaks and stands up pushing his chair back. 

“J-james.” you speak quietly. 

“I don't know what you men think but i think that the only one here who gets to touch her is me…don't you?” bucky speaks undoing his belt, your knees feel of jello and a shiver goes up your spine. 

Bucky pulls you to him and presses his lips to yours deeply he grips a handful of your ass before pushing you back against the table, your back laying against it he pushing up your skirt and rips open the front of your shirt. 

“I think you all need a fuckign lesson about who my assistant is and your gonna sit their like good students and fucking watch.” bucky grunts out as your laced bra is exposed he grips your neck pulling you up to him and gently takes out your ponytail letting your hair fall. 

“What do you think of these dirty old men touching you honey?” he asks you. You bite your lip making a bucky smile knowing what that does to him. 

“Your hands trails down his front to his crotch feeling the bulge already full in his pants straining against the fabric. You pull down the zipper causing him to slip out, you take him in your hand giving his length a few good strokes before he pushes back against the table he moves your panties to the side briefly only to rip them off throwing them in the room. With out warning or prep he enters you roughly you mouth falls open and a moan escapes as he begins to fuck up into you. 

“n-ngh..James.” you gasp out in pleasure. 

“Come on princess, don't hide those pretty sounds from us.” he says a violent blush fills your face but the arousal going on between your legs blurs out any embarrassment. Your husband is fucking you out silly, on the table of the meeting room infront of the entire board and you are loving every second of it. 

“Come on doll you gotta l–let em know who you belong to. You the fuck put tha pretty ring on your finger?” bucky huffs. 

“Y-you did ahh. Fu-fuck.. You did.” you maon out in fragments as he pulls you bra down exposing your tits gripping one and continuing to fuck you his thumb brushing over your hardend bud and the stimulation in you cunt is enough for you cum once. 

“F-fuck james..ah” you grip his hand as your cunt squeezes around his cock. 

“Come on love you cant keep this a secrect you fucking cumming?” he asks, already knowing the answer. 

“Y-y-yes ah..m-more please.” you ask breathlessly. He pulls out of you for a quick moment before turning you on your stomach and taking you from behind. Your nails claw at the table as he pounds into you. 

“Come on honey gotta show em your gorgeous face dont yah.” he pulls you up you back against him his left hand around your neck making your eyes roll back in pleasure and happiness on the dominance he has over you. While his other hand reaches down to your clit rubbing and playing perfectly. 

“Ah! AH” you moan out a broken gasp as your knees merge in over stimulation. 

“Come on… take it like a good girl.” Bucky groans into your ear knowing that the other men can absolutely hear him. 

Your arms reach about your head holding onto bucky as best as you can, your tits bouncing freely, men both looking away and can't take their eyes off the display right in front of them. 

“Come one baby you gonna fucking cum for me again huh?” bucky grunts. 

“Y-yes ah fuck yes.. Please i- i want it so b-bad. Please im your..ah please sargent” you beg. Bucky knowing full well he has you in the palm of his hand now with how cock drunk he's easily gotten you. 

His hold around your neck loosens and he lets you back onto the table pressing his hand onto the small of your back feeling the arch making him groan. 

“Such a good fucking girl for me huh? For everyone here being so fucking obedient.” bucky barks out sending a harsh slap on your ass for you only making  you clench around his cock. Surging pleasure though him. Skin slapping against skin as he fucks you out.

“Fuck.” he huffs. He grips your hair pulling your head back, your drunken expression facing all the men drool dripping as your tongue hangs out. The pleasurable tears stinging the sides of your eyes blurring your vision. 

“I- im gonna c-cum ah- fuck.. Please please ah..” you messily beg. 

“Come on doll cum.” he demands out from you a few more thrusts later he has you cumming for the second time. His thrusts become weaker and sloppy as he curses with a rough few thrusts in you emptying his load into your pussy filling you up. He pushes his hair back as he pulls out of you. Bucky gives you a quick kiss on the cheek before lifting you up against him your fucked you dazed happy expression is glowing for the others in the room. 

“obedience..is taught gentleman respect is earned. Any of you flaccid fucking shit faces touch her again or dare to question my authority with USLESS BOARD MEETINGS… Ill send someone to each and everyone of you and put a bullet or two right between your fucking eyes. Is that Understood?” Bucky speaks. 

“Yes sir.” they all say in broken unison. 

“Get the fuck out.” Bucky says they scramble out gathering their things and falling out the door before it's just the two of you left. You giggle out a tired giggle. 

Bucky tucks himself back into his pants, setting you down gently and brings his chair over. 

“Come here doll. You alright?” he asks you nod looking at him with lust filled eyes. 

A smile fills his face as his thumb brushes against your cheek. He sits you down in his chair. 

He takes off his jacket, placing it around you. “Come on honey imma take you home i don't think you can work today or tomorrow.” he smiles before kissing your lips. 

“W-we should do this again then yeah?” you ask as he picks you up bridal style. 

“Id be happy to fuck you infront of the presedent next week.” he chuckles. Making you laugh.

—-my requests are open—-

[qqueenofhades]

Not that anything's a for sure bet but my read on the general situation re: Harris-Walz is that there's going to be a lot less headwind to fight for Harris specifically as opposed to Clinton because the amazing right wing media hasn't had twenty years for poison to seep into the layperson's thoughts about Clinton's "worthiness"

Well, that and the fact that the MAGA crowd are just really, really bad strategic planners (especially since a solid 75% of their strategy is "lol we'll just cheat and win it that way, we don't need anything else.") They howled for 3.5 years about how Biden was too old to serve and should step down, and then when he did, they had zero plan how to run against Kamala and Trump is now practically begging Biden to magically get back into the race and save him. They ran an anti-Shapiro influence campaign by encouraging the antisemitic online left and planning to exploit the issue among Democrats divided on Israel/Gaza, then furiously melted down when Walz was picked and had no plan to deal with him either. Fascism is a helluva drug, kiddos. Don't try it at home.

The reason Harris has been able to rocket so high is simple, which is that she's channeling Obama 08 energy in more ways than one. Obama also came onto the national political scene four years before (with his speech at the 2004 DNC) and four years later, he was the party's nominee. It didn't even matter that he was a skinny brown guy named Barack Hussein Obama, because people were so tired of the chaos and war and incompetence of Bush Jr that they latched onto a simple message of hope and change and the historical nature of his candidacy felt like an optimistic risk worth taking. Why couldn't it be time for the first African American president? Yes, of course, there was incredible vitriol and we are still dealing with that backlash in some ways now, but still.

As I have said before, Trump is technically not the incumbent, but the last 8 years have been dominated by his hatred, chaos, division, rage, and treason in a way even Bush could never quite manage, and when people get to that point, there's a lot of coiled-up energy that has at last come bursting out. We needed Biden's old-moderate-white-man cred to defeat Trump as the sitting president in 2020, when most of his worst scandals hadn't even happened yet, but this is not 2020 (or 2016) and the dynamic is different. We are now on offense and playing to win, people have readily and eagerly embraced the absolute god tier karma that would come from a black female prosecutor finally ending the Orange Menace's reign of terror once and for all, and the Republicans are spitting smoke and spinning gears running frantically through their usual tired old stupid cliche attacks. GAY TRANS EVIL BIRTHERISM SWIFTBOAT FOREIGN FAR LEFT COMMIE LIBERAL HEATHEN!! they scream desperately, trying to find something that sticks. Except this time, no matter how hard the corporate media tries to help them out, nobody is listening. Nobody is buying it. We know exactly what BS they're trying and we're just shrugging and going "Yeah, no. Weird."

It absolutely helps that Kamala is not dragging the ball and chain of 20 years of Republican smear attacks, yes. But there are a lot of reasons why the GOP is imploding before our eyes and it's probably now more statistically likely that there is a blue tsunami than it is that Trump wins. I still cannot, CANNOT, believe it has been barely three fucking weeks. If this is a dream don't want to wake up, etc. Let me goddamn stay in this timeline just a little longer. And if we do the work, we can in fact make it that way, and Yeah. Yeah.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.63)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: you never thought that just cuddling with Hobi on a cold day could lead to this; his pants off and you begging "Daisy please-"

Tags: fluff, a little hurt but mostly just comfort, first times, soft cuddle sex, unintentional mutual somnophilia, knotting, scenting, under clarified limits, a touch of slick kink, breeding kink, a touch of size kink (you know the good stuff), unrealistic amounts of cum, implied belly bulge, implied feral sex, small triggers after sex, small references to past abusive relationships, hole check's, knot checks, dom/sub undertones to later scenes but not in the main smut,

W/c: 14.2k

A/n: thank you guys for being patient for this next chapter :) it's one of my favorites so please give it lots of love! i know we've all been waiting for hobi's confession and the completion of their arc, did i do it justice? Also i'm sorry that i have a pathological need to end every single chapter with a cliffhanger lol, this one is no different!

Previous part ~ Masterlist

(5 years ago. Before Yoongi. Before everyone.)

Jung Hoseok cleans his arms in a bathroom. He is 21 years old, there is lipstick on his fingers, and nothing bad has happened to him yet.

Bad is all relative of course. Some would call growing up in a rich area while living in a one-bedroom apartment bad. Some people would call not really knowing your parents because they work late nights bad. Some would even say that the fact that they won’t pay for Hoseok’s college education a fucking tragedy.

But between you and me and Hoseok; other people wouldn't know a fucking tragedy if it hit them in the fucking face. Talking to some people about your suffering is like trying to make a toddler shoot the broad side of a god damn barn with a double barrel shotgun. Or like those little lemon slices they put in the water at olive garden-

It's fucking useless. And you're more likely to be sent to the hospital than get some actual fucking results. Weather it's because of food poisoning, a bullet wound, or because some idiot you trusted thinks you're a god damn suicide risk.

See right? Talking about your problems is fucking useless.

But he’s always been able to focus on the brighter side of things. It's a blessing and a curse because optimism always lies to you. It's easier to be happy than it is to be upset, at least for Hoseok at this moment.

At least he was an optimist until they ruined him a little. After this year, finding the silver will take effort.

The tiles beneath his feet are cold to the touch. He knows that there’s a button somewhere to turn on the heated flooring but he just can’t find it. Hidden and unfamiliar as he is with this den. So different from his own little dormitory halfway across the city.

This fancy three-bedroom apartment is one that he will move into in precisely 4 months once they make it official, he’ll live here for exactly 2 years 3 months, and 8 days before being kicked out and moving into the pack's den. It’s exactly 2 years to the date that he meets Min Yoongi in the record store.

But nothing bad has happened to him yet. Today he is just himself, No idea of what's about to befall him and that It won't just be bad.

This apartment is upscale, with its wainscotting and long gauzy curtains that barely keep out the sound of the city streets 5 stories below and the lightly warm June morning. He’s not quite sure who pays for this one yet. Hasn’t had the chance to ask, he's only been seeing this pack for 2 months. This Hoseok is shyer than the one you know. Timid and unsure of where he should place his dulled claws.

It's all awfully mysterious. The question of "What do your parents do?" and the answer pressed to a raised finger. The truth lingering between lipstick and manicure on a single giggled breath.

"That's a secret"

He casts a glance around the bathroom, the marble counters, the plush hand towels, and even the designer soap is forghein to him.

Rich people.

It's one part tired jealousy and one part true distaste. Even if Hoseok had all the money in the world he wouldn't waste it on painting a bathroom white or powdery Dior soap. Why not blue or orange or green or pink?

(Oh Hobi. The pack’s bathroom will be green one day, with delicate tiles in the shade of the lightest moss. Not yellow-toned and not blue. he's going to help yoongi pick it out, He just doesn’t know it yet).

Their apartment is just a few blocks from the college that he attends, a freshman but not for much longer. A freshman, along with the pack's youngest. Her on the business track and him in a weed-out art department. The prerequisite humanities course is their shared battleground.

Out of everything in this story, this is the only true coincidence.

This version of Hoseok likes omegas with a bit of a dark side. The ones that are a bit bitchy, a bit entitled and alot pretty. The ones that hone their eyeliner to a vicious edge, or the male ones that act a little bit more like alphas and disobey gender norms. That’s what drew his eye to this pack's youngest in their hum 1 class.

He got a little melty when her eyes turned less “I’ll kill you if you even sniff in my direction” and more “A pretty alpha like you has to have a pack right?”

Hoseok had stuttered when he’d said that No- he didn’t.

Before long he’ll drop out because he just can’t cut it at art school. Just can’t spend nights with fingers black from charcoal, working on things that will one day be thrown in the garbage because he’ll have a pack to attend to. Good alpha that he is.

(It will be years before he realizes that it wasn't art school just mediums. He’s meant to use flowers to make things instead.)

They’re not his pack yet, not yet. not yet. Not Yet- But there is a gift waiting for him downstairs. A fancy set of pastels and paints. It’s the start of courting even though he’s supposed to be the one buying them gifts. He’s the penniless college student they’re the ones with the nice apartment. He’s the one with the knot, and they’re all omegas. It’s a give-and-take.

Yet somehow even though he’ll be the only alpha he knows he won’t be the pack alpha.

He cleans the lipstick from his fingers. Bright red. He knows he has it in other places too, down below the tugged low hemline of his pants pulled on after they were done fucking.

The last thing he wants to be is like the other alphas in the fraternities on campus, the ones that holler at all the omegas shit like “I can taste your slick from here baby,” and “want to study anatomy together? I’m a hands-on learner” Hobi dreads the idea that he might be like that. Even a little bit. Even unintentionally.

But still, their words from earlier ring in his ears.

“They haven’t been dating for that long, you can’t expect us to be comfortable all the time with you in our nest, it's a really intimate thing for us."

Hobi feels like one of those phraternity alphas when it makes him uncomfortable.

It’s reasonable that they wanted to give his knot a ride and try him out before they make it official. One alpha and four omegas, these odds are every alpha’s wet dream. He knows his performance was Oscar-worthy.

It had been nice to be in a nest for just a little bit, Hoseok’s biology wants it, the tense knot between his shoulders all loose.

Hoseok has never been loved by someone who wanted to talk to him every day, it will be easy for them to reduce his focus to their beck and call.

There's 4 different colors of lipstick on his cock. Four different shades from four different women. His new packmates get to the carrot part of the carrot and stick arrangement.

In the future, he’ll deny that he ever thought of any of these women as that- as packmates. He'll say it was only ever Namjoon’s pack that he wanted in this way. He’ll say it never compared and it didn’t. Except for these first few months. These first few days.

Memories lie to us all the time; memory is the best secret keeper.

He watches one of his packmates sit on the edge of the nest, she wears the lipstick prints better than he does. Lining the inside of her thighs, her own lips smudged.

Hoseok doesn’t let the smile fall from his lips and she smiles back. She tugs her long hair free of a bun that she’d put it up in so that she didn’t get slick in it. It will be a few more months until she cuts it above her collarbones. Blunt to a brutal edge.

Hoseok’s sweatshirt is on the edge of the nest, and Hoseok watches as she brings it to her nose, breathing in deep. Hoseok is just about to say that she can wear it when she throws it onto a nearby ottoman. Not onto the floor thankfully. No omega has ever worn his sweatshirt before. Hoseok tries not to let the rejection of his scent sting.

She looks at the lipstick on Hoseok, there’s a bit on his lip. “Come here.” She asks, parting her legs.

Hoseok is a good alpha and goes.

~-~

(Now, You and Hobi)

When Hobi wakes it's because the pack is moving around the room, bickering, and struggling to be quiet, bickering a little.

Their low hum drum voices as they talk about “Jungkookie? where did you put my mittens?” and ”I sort of love that you still wear mittens, babe.” Yoongi’s deep rumble, “Did Jimin buy those for you too?” All teasing and understanding. Because if anyone knows how Tae likes to be teased, Yoongi does.

Tae’s fond little croon is so melodic it makes Hobi sigh, ears straining to hear more of it. “Yes, he did. Got pup matching ones too.”

Pup. that’s you. Curled in the center of the nest under Hobi's elbows. dozing but unable to lift your head from where it's pillowed. You’re sure that Yoongi knows you’re kind of awake or at least listening in because Yoongi knows everything.

You’re sure that as he looks down at you and Hobi tangled together, he’s doing it with a smirk. You don’t need to open your eyes and double-check.

The temperature of the nest is balmy, overly warm in the way that it gets when it’s cold outside and the nesting is hitting so particularly good that Hobi won’t even think of moving. (The way it feels when you come out of the cold and into the waiting arms of someone you love) Hobi nuzzles into the warmth in front of him.

A small storm brews outside. The snow has been falling since midday. Just a little here and there. But Tae loves how it looks with all the Christmas lights. There aren’t quite enough up yet but the holiday season is close.

But the snow won't last, soon it won’t be falling at all. It will all melt off by tonight, the afternoon is supposed to be sunny. Can sun showers happen with snow?

"Do you think we could walk all the way to the gym, it's not all that far! only like 10 miles. We could run it in like an hour!"

He listens to the others talk. The sound of Yoongi’s voice, gravely and vaguely upset. “Jungkook, you’re not really thinking about going to work out right now- You’ve barely been home for like 5 hours. I just said we could go do something not run 10 fucking miles.”

Jungkook always gets this way; when the dizziness of the seizures turns to restlessness and he's honestly fine but the others can't resist trying to baby him. Too awake to sleep anymore. He sounds grumpy, whiney, and pouty even though Hobi's eyes aren't open to see him turn his puppy eyes on Yoongi. “I’m never going to be able to sleep tonight if I don’t hyung- I’m gonna go crazy.”

There’s the faint sound of lips meeting and smacking. Kisses that are probably meant to soothe Jungkook. “How about we compromise pup.”

“A walk?” Tae offers, sounding hopeful.

“A long walk.”

You shift a little and Hoseok opens his eyes. You're mostly still asleep just settling, making yourself more comfortable with the new space no longer corralled by arms and bodies.

Hobi’s mouth is dry when he watches you shift onto your stomach your face half-smushed into the cushions, scenting them a little in your sleep. The homey scent fizzle in Hoseok’s bones tells him that you've scented him too. Being surrounded by the pack's scent like this makes Hobi’s skin feel like pop rocks. Like his bones are mentos and coca cola. All sensitive and tingly.

He’s cuddled with you before- through your nightmares and last night at the hospital of course- but it’s never been just the two of you in a nest. He’s never been the only alpha here, charged with guarding the pillows and blankets and you curled soft in the center.

Hobi tentatively puts an arm around your waist, tugging you a little closer. The house still hasn't totally warmed up yet and you'd be cold without some body heat. He does it slowly, seeing if you’ll wake.

There is a hand in his hair, petting softly, and he snatches his arm from around your waist the second Hoseok realizes he's being watched. Yoongi leans over the edge of the couch-turned-nest, smirking a little. The door shuts behind Tae and Jungkook with a puff of cold air, and he raises his eyebrows expectantly.

He would look intimidating if his beanie didn't have cat ears. 

The pads of Yoongi's fingers rub soothing circles under Hobi's jaw and his lips part unintentionally. “Be good yeah?” he says, whisper soft. Hoseok just nods, too sleepy to verbally respond.

They haven’t talked much about Hobi’s confession; that night on the beach what feels like ages ago. But everytime he thinks of it Hobi still tastes salt on his tongue and your name on his lips. 

Yoongi’s wearing the same look now that he did then; half hopeful and half worried. But if there was anyone that would object on your behalf, if Hobi wasn't allowed this closeness with you, Yoongi would tell him.

Yoongi doesn't say that you and him aren't ready for cuddling like this. Yoongi doesn't say that Hoseok should give you space or not cradle you to his chest like you are something as fragile and necessary and as doomed as his beating heart. Trembling and stuttering with the force of sweet expectations and hopes made hollow with satisfaction.

Yoongi does not realize that Hoseok's heart has not had a steady beat since he woke up holding you.

Yoongi doesn't say anything. Yoongi just drags a single knuckle down his cheek and leaves. Heading out after Tae and Jungkook who are, judging from the hallow sound of snow hitting the windows- are having a snowball fight.

“If one of those hits me I’m not holding anyone’s hand for the whole walk-“

The door keeps out the sound of Tae's sweet giggles and Jungkook’s pouted, "just one hyung- I won't hit your face-" 

And the two of you are alone. Wrapped up warm, quiet and hushed, just the two of you.

Well, except for Noodle.

The meticulously kept edge of the nest is all fluffed, Noodle makes sure of it. Small paws depressing the blanket as he kneads it and then settles on the edge. His purr is audible from here as he blinks slowly from the bottom of the couch turned nest. Jin wrangled him for a brushing yesterday morning and his coat still looks extra fluffy and kempt. 

Unwatched and unjudged, Hobi tentatively reaches to cradle your ribs again. Thumb smoothing down the center of your stomach, a little close to your belly button. You’ve got a little hair there. Hobi’s fingers like the feel of it. Not rough but not silky.

Your skin feels like champagne bubbles and sparklers, everywhere he touches your skin goes fizzy. Hobi looks down at you, breath hitching, and thinks Is it really so horrible to want this? Why am I so afraid of this? 

You wiggle a little closer in your sleep and Hobi’s arm goes vicelike.

Noodle's purr goes a little louder. 

Hobi doesn’t like to think about his last pack ever, but he recognizes that hollow ache and tug that says memories aren’t too far behind. And it threatens to swallow him until he looks down at you. The house is quiet but your eyebrows are puffed up like something very shocking is happening in your dreams. He doesn't want to think about them right now. 

He drags his nose across your hairline; scenting you. Tasting your emotions on his tongue. Comfort. Ease. Arousal-sweet. Not all that abnormal. Not nightmares then. He is always on the lookout for them. After Jungkook and the hospital, he sort of thought they might come back. 

Hoseok counts his stars and snowflakes, and rests his forehead against the nape of your neck.

Over the next hour, you’re restless. Moving, worming your way closer to him as he goes in and out of sleep. You make a soft noise and he shushes you. a growl that says to stay put and alpha's here.

You blink slowly up at him. Hobi pulls back, taking his arm from around your waist, feeling like he’s just stolen candy from a jar on the counter that’s for him anyway. You stretch and don't comment on it, yawning. 

Noodle hops closer, squirming between the two of you and stepping over your shoulders. Meowing right in Hoseok’s face. “Alright alright, I’ll feed you again.”

You snuggle into the warm hallow he left on the couch when he detangles himself, hand under your cheek watching him as he stumbles out of the nest. Noodle follows tail held high. It's truly horrible. Leaving the nest when every bit of Hobi's body wants him to stay in the warmth. The house is always so slow to warm up. 

“Fuck the floors are cold.”

“Quick,” you say, face above the edge of the cover. Hoseok rushes, doling out a single scoop of dry food and then running back to you. Hobi wastes precious seconds to grab his headphones from the kitchen table before collapsing onto the couch where you hold the blanket up, sealing the warmth and him back inside. The headphones tangle between the two of you and he falls with a giggle. Disappearing among the white blanket. He sinks thankfully into the warmth, into the safety that the nest offers. Into you.

Your warm arms wrap around his shoulders and his body shivers delightfully in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. Your jaw pops when you yawn and then he yawns too, a breath later. You laugh too and tuck your face into his shoulder.

“Fuck- it’s so cozy.”

It really is, the kind of cozy that only comes along a few times a year. A quiet to your bones that says there is nothing to do now but rest. The coldness that turns your bodies into these molten-loving things. Your warmth and Hoseok’s warmth. One warmth.

He breathes, deep and heavy.

“I don’t know if I want to get up yet.” The house is still quiet. Nothing but Noodles happy munching sounds and the faint scratch of big snowflakes hitting the windows.

Hobi’s heart beats frantic against yours and you sigh. “Wanna listen to some music?” He offers. Hobi always loves a backtrack, a little compliment for the exposition.

You nod, a little sleepy, but Hobi has a playlist for that. He’s got a playlist for everything including ’sleepy cozy pup time’. The headphones take a second to locate, lost in the nest. But when he does you share them. One earphone a piece, the sound turned low so you can still talk.

Hobi puts on a love song, and it makes you smell all sweet. Stretched out with your hair tangling because you’ve left it unbound, the split ends prodding at Hobi’s cheeks. He doesn’t really listen to the song, just watches you. Eyes closed humming softly.

Your scent sours and Hoseok's hand goes tight on your wrist. You tell him what's bothering you without him even having to ask.

“I saw this line the other day that didn't like." You look at the ceiling, not at him. "it said a love song is really good if you can’t tell whether they’re talking about another person or if they’re talking about god.”

You think about Jimin and Tae. You've been thinking about it since Tae talked about their childhood earlier and the bloody cross between the two of them. If holiness does exist, it’s in Tae. If there is anything like religion for you or Jimin, it's love. God has nothing to do with it. God's not the person who makes love songs sound good.

Hobi turns on his side, leaning on his elbow. “I’m not sure Jimin would agree with that either.”

You turn in time to see Hobi’s smile. It catches the sunlight, lingering right on his cheek. An octagonal shaft of sunlight that has traveled millions of miles to get there could not have found a more beautiful place to fall. He huffs a quiet laugh again, and you swear you might hear the highest note of a piano somewhere.

You wonder when he became so musical to you, maybe it’s just because he’s the person who made you love music so much.

(You can tell a love song is good, when it makes you think of Hobi).

“You’re still worried about him, aren’t you?” You rest your lips against his shoulder and Hobi’s body doesn’t move an inch. They’re soft where they lie not a kiss but not not a kiss either. You can rest your lips against his skin, you can rest your whole body and Hoseok wouldn't move an inch.

“Always worried, got to worry about Minnie. Always worried about everyone.” You mumble. Eyes closing.

The light comes through the windows all honey yellow, turning the bookshelves that Yoongi made gold instead of white. Turns the tops of Hobi’s hair a little red too, the brown has endless depths in the sunlight all burnt umber and Sienna where the sun hits, yellow ocher at the tips. The sunlight savors falling on Hobi, down to the last inch.

You try to keep your eyes open, struggling, and Hobi sets a hand on the top of your head, ruffling your hair lightly.

"Go back to sleep pup."

You hum, already half there. He pulls you a little on top of him, holding you with a firmness usually reserved for too-large packages and the tenderness reserved for very fragile very precious things. It makes your whole body feel tingly at the edges.

“Thanks for not leaving the nest when everyone else did,” you think he might be asleep for how long it takes him to answer. But everything in the last 24 hours has left you feeling like you don’t want to be alone, that you can’t be left by yourself. He breathes up and it presses against your stomach.

“Didn’t want to go with the others- just wanted to stay here in the nest with you.” nesting is a biological need for alphas as much as it is for omegas, Hobi hasn't felt so relaxed in ages.

He murmurs, hand still skimming through your hair. His thumb rolling against the nape of your neck and you shiver hard into the touch, sinking further into him. “Is that okay?”

Your hand finds a spot under his arm and you use it to tug yourself closer, getting your forehead against his shoulder, the headphones slipping from your ear.

“Yeah. It’s always okay.”

Hobi tucks your hair behind your ear and puts the headphones back in.

The next time you wake it’s because Noodle is licking at your forehead, grooming you, and you hear the shutter sound of Hobi’s camera, his small giggle. You swat at noodles face and he bats at you a little before settling on the small of your back, fighting Hobi for necessary real-estate and howling when he gets pushed off.

“Nu, be quiet,” Hobi’s hushed words are answered with an equally quiet meow that sends you straight off to dreamland again.

You don't know how long it's been, it could have been hours or minutes the next time you wake. You just know that Hobi smells good, smells musky sweet caramel all drippy and heady, that you've got your nose pressed up against his scent gland. All surrounded by it. Surrounded by him.

The next time you wake is not so innocent.

You’re a little too close. Cuddling with Hobi in a way that you might with Yoongi- with Namjoon or Jungkook. All warm snug hot. Bodies and dreams tangled so thoroughly that it's hard to tell where dreamy wants begin and fragile delights end.

You’re warm at your front from Hobi and warm on your back from the sunshine streaming through the window. Warm all the way through. Until he moves his hand and you realize that’s from him too. His fingers splayed over your spine.

You think you can be forgiven for confusing them. Hoseok and sunlight are one and the same.

The apex of your thigh is pressed tight to his hip just where his thigh starts. Your leg hitched over his hip and tight to it. The fabric of his sweatpants and the fabric of your pajama shorts are all bunched up from your movements. Your knee bent at a comfortable angle. His scent is heady in your nose, pressed to the low tugged collar of his shirt just over his heart.

As close as you can be but still not enough.

You don't even realize your hips are moving, sleepily grinding against his thigh until it's too late.

Hobi grabs your hips and groans.

You stop mid-movement, thoughts sloshing sleepy. And oh, you were moving, weren’t you? There is a dampness between your thighs and the scent of slick and arousal sharp in the air. That comfortable pleasure hiccup in your throat that says you want to cum and can. could like this.

You jerk back from the warmth in front of you, startled into wakefulness as you realize exactly you were just doing.

Oh no- you didn’t mean- Hobi. Alpha, warm and comfortable at your front.

You start to back up, still half asleep, but terror and embarrassment flood you like the ocean floods the sea rocks at high tide.

Hobi groans, a deep near growl sound, and moves before you can back up even an inch. he was just as asleep as you just were until you pulled away. His sleepy brain still clings to you.

His hands slip lower, holding you tight against his front. His sleepy alpha brain is malfunctioning. Sweet omega needs to stay close. The source of his warmth and the friction against his front cannot slip away.

His hands are on your ass and your pussy is pressed flushed to his hip, and Hobi-

Hobi is your best friend, Hobi is your packmate and Hobi has to be unaware of what he’s doing. You’re sure of it. You try to pull away again from him fighting back more embarrassment than you've ever felt in your entire life, hands pressed to his chest.

But He pulls you right back to him.

Right into a unmistakable hardness poking at your stomach. Hard and warm. Right where you were grinding in your sleep.

Hoseok’s heavy breath brushes your ear.

Instincts are incredibly hard to describe. The way they hook into your consciousness and separate reason from action and want from logic. The part of you that’s in control, that recognizes that you and Hobi shouldn’t be this close like this if it’s not talked about, is so distant.

A needy sound echoes that might be from you, that is from you, as Hobi’s hands slide up your hips and under his sweatshirt. Cold hands on your warm hips and oh-

Hobi’s eyes are cracked open, looking down at you, watching you with pink cheeks. Tongue darting out to lick at his lip. “S’okey you just-" his eyes flutter closed again; breath warm against your face. "You take what you need.”

It’s only a testament to the pack's care that you associate these things with each other. Safety and coziness are just so close to pleasure and comfort. Your sleepy body associates this kind of nesting with sex. it's only natural that you'd get a little needy while inside of it.

You can get needy, Hobi doesn't mind.

Before either of you can say if you really should, if this is really a good thing to do without talking about it first. Hobi’s hands are on your waist, pulling you back snug, his hard thigh between your legs.

If you were more awake, you’d think better of it, you’d think so much but there is only that sweet pressure. The drag, the wetness, the soft little huffs of breath that he shushes when he lets you take what you need. Helps you with his hands on your hips and guides you back into rocking against his thigh.

You feel it all the way down to your toes when his hands slide down to the curve of your ass then back up again, underneath the hem of your shorts and then your sweatshirt- his too (all of you his). Rucked up to your ribs.

“Soft.” Hobi groans.

This must not be real. This has to be a dream. Because Hobi doesn't want to touch you like this, Hobi doesn't groan and twitch against your stomach or guide the movement of your hips with his hands into a slow grind that has you gasping against his jaw. Hobi doesn’t leave the seat of your pajama bottoms soaked with slick. Hole clenching around nothing already. Utterly boneless where you lie against his front.

There is one single moment where you look at each other, one single moment where you try to keep from going any farther. Even though you want it, even though he wants it too. If Namjoon and Jin have taught you anything they've taught you caution.

Hoseok can smell the others lingering on your skin, the spot on the top of your head where Yoongi rested his cheek. He leans down, brushing his lips over it. It’s such a tender gesture and it breaks the flood and he's tugging you up, tugging you even closer, desperation coloring his voice all sweet.

“Fuck- please.” His forehead rests against yours, “fuck I just need-“

You're not sure who moves first, who starts the kiss only that once you’re kissing him it’s hard to stop. One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.

Teeth clanging against each other, harsh as they nip. Kissing so good that when you pull apart for breath you're both gasping and it has nothing to do with needing air.

Hobi has such nice lips it’s no wonder that they’re heart-shaped. Made for kissing, made for the needy needy licking against the seam of his lips. He shifts turning you on your side, surging up to kiss you properly and put his weight behind it. cradling your head with one hand and your side with the other. You’re so pliant, so willing to let him kiss and take. You want him to take everything. arms around his neck.

He breaks apart, forehead resting against yours, heart beating so quick that he can feel it in his palms. Pupiles blown when he blinks. “If you take what you need, and I take what I need- Can we-“

Your hands thread hard in his hair. Tugging him back to your lips. Closer and closer. “Fuck Yes- please-“

You don’t know where the wanting comes from, why it’s raging through you like a fire. His lips move against yours frantic, you bite his lip and he jerks. Hovering over you with your back against the nest, all tingly and fizzy. Your bones feel like champagne popping, like shooting stars burning out.

Hobi’s hands shake when they touch your hips, just like yours do when you mirror him, your touches shy but just as hungry, tugging up his shirt, fingertips and nails pressing bluntly to his happy trail of fine dark hair. You can feel the way his cock jumps against your stomach and thigh when you scratch gently.

You pull back a little and sit up and it’s sacred; the way that he panics, scrambling to hold onto you. You're A little bit shy when you take off his sweatshirt, nothing underneath. hair fluffing when you get it free from the cotton.

Your bare skin and the cold room. You get goosebumps on your arms almost instantly when they cross over your bare chest. Hobi’s breath stutters in his chest, like roman candles flare and settle. Hobi takes his sweatshirt from you and sets it aside in his haste to hold you again.

He starts to tugs his pants down, getting tangled because he won't even pull back an inch from you. You kiss his throat, again and again making up for lost time. Sucking a mark there. His hands fumble with the waistband of his tied tight grey sweatpants. finding the loops and then freeze when he feels wetness. Pulling back and looking down just to make sure that that is what he thinks it is. you stop your kissing and look too.

There is a wet spot, darkening the grey material. Your slick from your grinding, the spot where you got so worked up and felt so good that you couldn't even help it. He pulls back so that the light can kiss it but yeah that's definitely from you. Evidence of how much you want this. Evidence of how much you want him.

Hoseok thinks you might have actually set his body on fire. Is about ready to start checking your fingers for matches.

You blush so hot that you think you might be burning in embarrassment. Hands between your legs, clutching at the material of the nest, so embarrassed you can't watch as Hoseok looks down at it and then up at you.

“I’m sorry I- I can’t help it- I'm always-“

Hobi’s hands smooth over the wet patch, splaying up to cradle his cock where you’ve left your mark. And he looks at you, jaw rolling and eyes dark. He doesn’t say anything. Can’t.

It’s hasty how you both move to take his pants off, and he kicks them to some forgotten corner of the nest, his boxers pulled off too, and then clings to you. You cling to each other. Kissing again. Hands knotting through his hair and tugging.

You glance down and oh- Hobi has such a pretty cock. the prettiest in the pack maybe (don't tell Tae), Flushed at the tip, hair neatly trimmed and curving up.

Your bare thighs press to his adds a whole new level to this, the skin there is sensitive and unknown. Lying thigh to thigh somehow feels more intimate than chest to chest as you lie the way lovers do, your leg, his, then yours again.

You’re damp between your legs when he touches, hands shaking. He doesn't bother to take off your shorts just tugs the soaked bit of fabric to the side. It’s been a long time since he’s touched a pussy but he knows enough to do it gently. Petting over your folds like he’s teasing a flower to bloom and opening a rose for a bouquet.

“Please” you gasp, hand vicelike around his wrist. Kissing his frantic pulse again. Hot lips and a cold nose drag down his throat. You hiccup as the pads of his fingers find your clit, shaking against him. "Please-"

But you don’t need to ask, you don’t need to beg. Whatever you need Hobi will give it to you. Your hands scratch as his back when he presses close, snaking underneath his sweatshirt. Breath heavy.

He kisses your neck and bites it when his length brushes the wetness between your thighs. Hot and honey slick. his hips press to your hips, harsh lines of his thighs pointing low that you like. There is so much about Hobi that you like; the way that he kisses, the way that he touches. oh- it’s better than you imagined.

His knuckles are glossy with your slick when he curls them against the nest, holding himself up.

Hobi bends down to skim a kiss across your neck, your collarbones, your sternum.

You laugh, your giggle high and bright. He has to pull back, not upset at all but wanting to laugh too, giggling too. “Why are you?”

Your smile means everything to him. “Your hair tickles.” It is kind of fluffy, kind of pulled everywhere from your kissing and you run your fingers through it, scratching a little around the nape of his neck, and Hobi is done playing.

He pulls back, already dripping a bit of precum, silvery and pearl like at the head of his cock, standing against his stomach. a little hidden because he's still wearing his sweatshirt. Checking because he can’t not check.

“Is this- can I- fuck are you-“

“Daisy, please-“ Oh, how that pet name unhinges him.

He won't make you wait another second for it, hands shaking as he holds your hip. Shushing your needy whimpers with a soothing alpha rumble as he guides his cock close. Giving you what you both need.

Hoseok is not as big as Namjoon or Tae or Jimin, but he’s properly thick. Not the kind of thickness that knocks the breath out of you but the kind that fits just right. Not enough to make you ache or hurt even a little. It doesn’t hurt at all when he eases in slowly.

It doesn’t hurt at all.

That might be because of how soaked you are; dripping messy underneath the warm humidity of the blanket. The visual of your glossy pussy robbed from him but unimportant as Hobi stares at your face, resting his head against your forehead. Watching your eyes dilate and eyelashes flutter. “There we go- fuck-”

It’s not worth pulling back to separate how close you are. How good it feels to press his chest to your chest, not even a single inch separating you. His kisses go gentle and messy, moving against yours in a gentle rhythm just like his hips after he gives you a second to grow used to it. Rocking just a little.

Hoseok has heard the others talk about your pussy, those moments that he tried to block out at the beginning and then started to file away once loving you got more real. But for everything he's heard from his packmates, nothing compares to the reality.

The closeness. The way your hips fit. The hot- too much- clench around him.

He understands a little maybe, fully buried in you for the first time, why they talk about it so much. Why Jungkook had slipped it into dirty talk a few times with Namjoon and why it had made him growl and cum so quick. Why Tae had teased Yoongi for hogging you.

Your pussy feels like an inside joke in all the best ways, the kind of inside jokes that always have you feeling both known and loved. You can’t remember what you used to laugh about when you were a teenager and if asked Hoseok would fail to describe why sex with you feels so full. Why it feels like highlights and golden ages, the golden hour drenching you. It’s not sex for pleasure’s sake and it's not sex for closeness's sake either- although that’s part of it.

It’s not sex at all, it's making love. With Hobi, it’s making love from the beginning.

It's not instincts and mating bond urges. It’s not one submissive giving to a dominant. It’s not about protection and safety even though that's there or because you're an omega and he's an alpha. Because he's a man and you're a woman.

It's just love, that's it.

And it doesn’t hurt at all. For either of you.

The eye contact is never ending, his warm and fucked out the more he rocks. Gentle at first and building up frantic. Hobi doesn’t fuck like the rest of the pack does either; he doesn’t speak, letting out these quiet heavy breaths and shushing your squeaks with soothing alpha grumbles. His thumb wiping away the few overwhelmed tears that slip out and a smile swallowing your hiccuping breaths.

"Fuck” he breathes, moving his hips a little faster. His stomach presses to yours damp and tacky with sweat. Hoseok’s doesn't fuck in and out all the way, hardly moving away from you at all. Just rocking in deep.

Hobi doesn’t stop hitting every spot, comfortable with these unending rocks of his hips, maddening in the way that he never stops filling you. Never pulls out even half way.

Your hands weakly clench in the blankets of the nest as he twitches right there. That sensitive spot inside of you that feels like courting ecstasy when he nudges it. It’s the same spot that Yoongi likes to tease at, the spot that only his long fingers can reach properly and Tae’s too when she’s really trying. Ghosting over it and petting at it until you’re mad with pleasure.

But Hobi doesn’t tease, Hobi just gives. rubbing against it again and again with every gentle roll of his hips.

you put your hand over your mouth to quiet your whimpers when he pulls back, sitting up just a little. Holding your waist and forcing your body further down on his cock, nudging it as deep as it can go and you sob.

Hobi grins, a little cocky, a little pleased that despite his size compared to the others you're still equally as wrecked.

“Right there yeah?” he teases, and then rocks against it again. thumbs pressing against your stomach where he cradles you. waist so tiny that they almost meet when he holds you.

Your cheeks are hot, and you have to turn and whimper into the pillow. he lets you shift so that you're belly down in the nest and he's behind you glued to your backside. lying his weight down behind you like a blanket. pressing you into the nest where you'll stay like a good pup.

Hoseok instincts are absolutely purring. omega, getting bred in such a pretty nest. Good warm soft omega.

Your hand laces with the blanket, needing something to hold onto and he kisses the back of your neck, treading your hands together as he keeps going. This new position lets him rock in even deeper, putting his weight behind it.

“If you keep going, I’m not gonna be able to-”

His breath ghosts your ear, lips dragging down the column of your throat to nip and suck gently at your scent gland, marking you there. his hand presses, holding you to the bed as he rocks harder. His barely formed knot already inside and growing, getting you closer and closer as it thickens. Keeping him right there at the spot and you on the edge. You're so wet it's making noises, soaking and dripping down his cock.

He kisses your mating mark, nipping at it, and you’re gone.

You cum, a wet gush around his knot and a broken whimper. a growl in his throat sounds loud in the empty house. It sounds like made mate happy, made omega cum for me. Hoseok's Alpha is absolutely preening watching your Legs shake, the nape of your neck sweaty, body slack and head tilting to bear your neck. both of your bodies messy from it, filthy and blushing with love.

Hobi’s not far behind, rocking another time, a third, a quiet satisfied breath into the back of your neck before his knot pops locking you together as he cums so gently. No growls or gasps, just hot spurts that fill and satisfy you. Knot popping and Locking you so close you can feel his cock pulse. So close you can feel the same heartbeat on his lips when kisses you, hurried kisses pressed to the nape of your neck that quickly go slack with sleep.

Your hand settles across your stomach, and oh- you realize why hobi wasn't bothered by how wet he got you earlier. He just keeps cuming, so much that it's leaking a little around his knot. You're not sure that Jimin or Tae or Yoongi cum this much, Namjoon definitely does- but thats kinda proportional.

he just keeps going, heat flooding you. Maybe he's only cumming so much because it's the first time, and he needs to claim you from the inside out. you're a little too dizzy to figure it out.

You feel like you might pass out. You don't know if it's squirt or cum or just sweat when he lies himself over you. cuddling closer despite the mess. Teeth at your bared throat, Sucking softly, Soothing.

instincts are kind of embarrassing at best, irrationally hot at worse. you squirm a little closer so that his knot goes deeper.

The sunlight spills across your cuddled forms, still underneath the big thick blanket. He doesn’t pull out, the knot keeping him snug tight. His hand is on your cheek, rubbing up and down your jaw. He pulls the blanket up around you. And neither of you says a word as your rapid breathing calms.

You’re not sure who falls back asleep first. Only that he wraps his arm around you and pulls you back on top of his chest, cuddled there. Knot warm and safe inside of you.

knotted together like this, you're finally finally close enough.

~-~

When Hobi wakes you’re watching him and his dick is out. Wet and slick and cold.

That would certainly cause him to be alarmed if it wasn’t for your expression; a little pale. Hands between your legs and looking at the doorway.

You just really don't want to drip cum onto the couch, like- obviously. Hobi didn't hurt you. But the brief terror at waking up uncuddled and so suddenly douses Hobi like a bucket of cold water.

The cold might be the actual reason for his sudden wakefulness. The wintry air in the room is jarring because the house is finally heating up. (as much to do with the heating system doing its job as it is with your activities earlier that turned the windows all hazy with condensation).

It's like someone had just come in and then abruptly left again. Your cheeks are pink, and there is a cloth on the side of the couch, folded and warm. You didn't get it for yourself.

“Don’t freak out, but Yoongi and the others walked in while you were asleep.”

You’re kind of glad that he wasn’t awake to see your mate barely contain his screech, jumping up and down with Jungkook in the entryway. Namjoon’s subtly grinning expression when he took in your appearance and paused in the cold doorway breathing in deeply. Tae wrapped around one arm; their walk interrupted by his return from surgery.

He groans, barely awake enough to think about the visual that Yoongi and the others were treated to. The consequences are better than a shot of expresso at wakeing him up.

But really, was there ever a possibility that the others wouldn’t find out about this? Does Hoseok even want them not to know?

He's too tired, too think about this logically.

Hoseok wonders why he didn’t wake to you holding him. He’s seen you hold the others, hold Namjoon in the morning when you smell like him. The way you wake slowly and run your fingers through their hair. The other alphas have a habit of cuddling up to rest their head against your chest. Hobi remembers that day by the beach when you pet his hair, he wants you to do that now.

But he can't fucking ask. Asking you to cuddle him would be fucking embarrassing.

“Shit." He shakes off his neediness and easily locates his boxers in the mess of the nest because they're bright red. Surreptitiously tucking his now soft and deflated knot back inside. You look away, letting him have that moment of privacy without comment. Your arms curl around your chest, you’re still nude from the waist up. thighs clenched togeather.

“Yeah uhm, they went back out to like- give us some space.”

"Did they say anything?"

You look away, wiggling over to the edge of the nest. "No. But they looked like they wanted to say a whole lot.”

You definitely don’t say that you heard their scuffle, Namjoon and Tae using their alpha privileges to wrangle an overly excited Yoongi and Jungkook. or that both of them had come back inside, both with pink cheeks smelling sweet at the sight of Hobi’s face pressed to your neck and the fresh hickeys at your throat.

(Hobi’s hickeys are always so small and cute. Tae can’t wait to take a picture and save it, for memory's sake. She’s half tempted to take out her phone and snap a picture of the two of you now.)

Your hiss of “Don’t say anything, I swear to fucking god if you wake him-" cured her of any bad ideas and had Namjoon grinning, his dimples showing.

Yoongi’s finger pressed to his lips in the doorway. Smiling wide and showing his gums. Omegas do get awfully protective over alphas in their nests. Especially post-knotting.

You’re honestly a little surprised that their muted shouting hadn’t woken Hobi. The closed door had kept out the cold but not the sound of them discussing on the porch; mostly Tae's insistence that they needed to get out of the house for lunch instead of heading back inside.

“But what if they need aftercare?”

"We shouldn’t leave them alone and unprotected.” (Classic Joonie).

“Yeah! What if they need cleaning!”

Yoongi snorts, “Gross Jk- I’m pretty sure the last thing they want is you licking up Hobi’s cum.”

“But he always likes it when it’s Jinnie-" that had your face and body heating (although that could just be Hobi- a literal furnace that he is wrapped around you).

Now his warmth is on the other side of the nest yet it feels impossibly farther away. As you both stew in silence under the weight of what you’ve done, what you just did.

Everything feels quiet and scary as you put yourselves back together in silence. You use the wet washcloth to keep yourself from dripping all over the couch while he looks for his pants in the mess of blanekts that smell like sex.

Thoughts like shit shit shit and what have you done ping-ponging back and forth across his brain. Mind bouncing between unlikely personal regrets and likely female rejection (of which he is only too familiar with).

Hobi doesn't like feeling rejected, it always brings up bad memories. He didn't wake up to you holding him. Is that a rejection or is his brain just making it up? People always hold each other after sex. Don't they?

You reach for his sweatshirt but before you can touch it a growl bursts forth from his throat and you freeze.

Hoseok scrubs a hand across his eyes, trying to wipe away the memories fitfully. Maybe it’s just because of the fact that he woke up and you weren’t wrapped around him. He's going to have to cuddle you himself if he wants it right now.

This first time with you reminds him of other first time's that didn’t end well. He's sorry for it the second it slips past his lips.

“Sorry, I don’t know why I just- my fucking instincts feel like they're on fire."

“So can I…?” you trail off. Your skin has goosebumps again. And Hoseok doesn’t know if it’s the casual nakedness that has him feeling so unmoored. A blush trailing its way up the back of his neck even though it shouldn’t be weird. He saw you shirtless every other hour during Namjoon’s rut for Christ’s sake.

“Yeah, just wear it- please wear it.” He can’t take back his growl, but he can meditate by watching you pick it up and hug it to your chest. Looking at him for a second as if to check that it’s still alright and he’s not going to snap at you again.

There is a hickey on your shoulder, the spot where it meets your arm. Hobi doesn’t know if it’s from him or someone else. It's a little too red to not be new. You don’t look uncomfortable being nude in front of him.

If anything, you look a little bit glowy.

You look at him and then pull it over your head. His cheeks still heating stubbornly as your chest moves a little, jiggling.

Why do girls have to just- girl all the time- it's honestly a little unfair how much hobi blushed.

He watches you, sitting on the edge of the bed in nothing but his boxers as you stand up pulling the sweatshirt down your hips. He stares at you until you ask a little flustered by hiding it, “What?”

He tugs on the hem of his sweatshirt, slowly, carefully, leaning forward as he tugs on one of the strings with his teeth. His hands go to your waist pulling you close gently, half sure of himself and half afraid. Hoseok is always somehow half afraid. Is this allowed? Is this wanted?

He rests his head against your stomach, loosely twining his arms around your waist to pull you closer, still loose enough that you can step away if you want. All of this can stop if you don’t want it. He hopes you know that.

Hoseok looks down at your feet, not at your face. “I love it when you wear my clothes. I really don't know where that came from.”

“Careful,” you say, a grin in your voice. Your tone light because you don't want him to smell so sour again. “I’m gonna go for your pants next.”

You snatch his from the floor and dart away. Nothing excites an alpha’s instincts like a chase, and Hobi feels the fire light down his spine. His movements are a hunt-heavy blur. Brain honed in on you.

He catches you by the counter, your giggle echoing off the high ceilings. His blood heating again as he drags you by your hips and flops down into one of the bar stools, sitting you on top of him with a growl.

His hands grip hard around your waist, determined until he’s shy. Letting you go softly, “Sorry I just-”

“Instincts still? Don't worry I get it.” You give him his pants and sit up off his lap so that he can put them on. And now is not the time to get another boner Hobi- but it’s kind of hard not to when you smell so bred, so wholly satisfied.

Hobi did that. Hobi's the one who made you look like this drowning in the afterglow.

Your own instincts are telling you that you want to take the blankets from the couch and drag them upstairs, and tuck them in around the scents of the others. So that they can all see and smell how good you made your alpha feel.

Hoseok’s pleasure leaves an undercurrent to the air that’s intoxicating. Half sugar-sweet and musky alpha. Your body hums with it as he steps up close behind you, close enough you can feel his warmth and not his body, nose skimming the bruise he left close to your mating mark. Letting out a tired sigh.

You did just work off a lot of energy, regardless of the half-nappy half-cuddle fucking that just was; It's also left you fucking hungry.

As much as the kitchen has been a place of anxiety for you it really isn’t with Hobi there. There is still that tape line on the floor that guards you off from the stove, sink, and the fridge. Hobi steps out from behind you and goes to the fridge, getting out some of the prepped fruit that Yoongi almost always keeps on hand.

But you keep looking at the kitchen, the pans hanging above the sink, your mixer sitting dusty in the corner. The hanging mugs. Everything.

He brings it to you, setting it down in front of where you sit. instincts making his eyes fever bright. He watches a little too intently as you lift a raspberry to your mouth. Something about watching you eat cools his instincts, making him release a taught breath.

He watches as you lift another piece, a blackberry to your lips and bite down. Almost purring, too afraid of what might slip out if he speaks. He half wants to do it himself and feed you from his fingertips. But that’s a little too embarrassing to consider.

A minute later, after you’ve eaten half a dozen more pieces, he reaches past you, about to get a piece of peach. He doesn't think anything of it, but when he reaches past your face- you flinch.

It happens so quick that he almost doesn’t even catch it. One second your cheek is turned straight and the next your eyes are darting from him to the bowl. Scent souring with fear and memories from Geumjae.

Fuck. (No cuz actually- fuck Geumjae.)

You don’t look at him with fear, you just look at him with a strange sort of sadness in your eyes. Sorry. Like you’re sorry for being scared. hoseok's hand goes tight on the counter.

"I'm sorry."

Hobi sits down. Holds your hands in his, and waits for a second before he speaks. makes his words quiet and gentle because anger at someone dead and gone has no place here.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” You have nice hands, warm where they press into his. And he cradles them, your knuckles flexing vaguely in his grasp, gentle but commanding.

“You’ll try not to, you mean."

You smile at him sadly. Hobi’s chest is tight with it. He needs you to know how much he means those words. How much he needs to mean them. But you both know how hard it is to promise that.

"No. I mean I’m not going to hurt you. Ever.” He repeats. You smile at him sadly again. And he knows his brief anger earlier when you touched his sweatshirt- usually such a normal thing for you- didn't escape you at all. But grief and mourning and memory always finds you at the worst times; after first times and on sunny winter afternoons.

The two of you are a mess, bodies teeming with the memories of failed loves, lost and broken. But you can ignore your triggers; such innocuous things as you wearing his sweatshirt and him reaching past your face. You can ignore your memories; the wretched and rotten ones, just for today.

You let the heavy moment pass and look at the other side of the kitchen. Hobi’s chest feels tight with something. Something that he needs to say but can’t just yet. You can only tell someone you love them for the first time once. You don’t get a second chance.

Hobi just wants to get it right.

You’re looking at the kitchen that Yoongi made for you, holding his hand still. using the other to feed yourself more fruit.

(Is there anything more intimate than holding hands with someone? It feels like more than the pads and lines of his fingers are pressed to yours. soul to soul and palm to palm. The future is written out right there but you ignore it. Love line, health line, fate. But the two of you are dedicated to writing your own end. Your love line is exactly the same length as his, not a millimeter longer).

Hoseok’s chest is still all tight. “What are you thinking about?”

“I haven’t made anything in months.” You sigh, sad. “I want to. I used to love baking, I used to-” you break off, sorrow making you quiet.

Hobi’s eyes are fixed on your shoulder. There are freckles there. He’s not sure why he’s never noticed them before or that you’ve got them dotting your back.

Hobi swallows past something in his throat. Pushing you gently from your chair until you're standing next to him. Cupping your waist because now that he's started touching you it's hard to stop. Now that he knows he’s allowed to touch you so casually, so affectionately, he going to keep doing it.

“Go. I’ll watch you, make sure you stay safe.” Because that’s the rule, isn’t it? Not that you can’t be in the kitchen at all, just that you need someone there to keep you safe.

The words feel tight in his throat, not easily said. I love you. He thinks as he watches you move to the mixer with a small but pretty smile that looks like daisies have taken root on your skin, everything sweet and flowering.

I love you. He thinks as he watches you get your cookbook from behind the mixer. I love you he thinks when he watches you place a mug from that morning in the sink. I love you he thinks as you get the sugar, the vanilla, the salt. He has to get up and get the flour for you, unwilling to have your arms strain underneath the heavy container, doting on you just because he can.

Just because he wants to, just because he loves you.

The shadow of what’s left on the bag hits his dark clothes like a ghostly outline when he holds it. The flour is a bit like you; everywhere he touches it leaves an impression. The rainbows from his suncatcher you put in the kitchen shift with the angle of the sunlight, winking out one by one as dusk falls.

He sits at the kitchen island and watches as you hum and flick through your recipe book. Golden hour fades to orange and pink the same way that roses fade.

He’s not sure why he blurts it out, why he asks, “What’s your favorite?”

You look up from your cookbook, everything is set out but still, the recipe is undecided. “What?”

Hobi can not look at you for this, instead looks at the kitchen island and the old butcher block countertop. Fingers toying along the edge where a knife left a gash.

“You always make everyone else’s favorites; Namjoon’s honey cakes, coffee-flavored things for Jin, the vegan stuff for Jungkook you know- but-” his eyes flick up to you in a moment of bravery. “What’s yours? What's your favorite?”

You think for a moment, a kitchen apart, fingers tapping on the countertop and Hobi can’t take his eyes off of you. His body feels a little achy but in that ‘was just fucked good’ sort of way that makes his breath deeper. Quieting some alpha part of him that always wants a little more. A little more scenting, a little more validation, a little more attention.

But everything can wait.

“My favorite thing to eat or my favorite thing to make?”

“Both. Either.” You glance at the clock. Going to the pantry for a second to double-check that you have everything you'll need. “I’ll have to make some of it from scratch but-" you look at him. “Do you have time?”

Hobi nods. “As long as you need.”

Hobi watches as you measure out the flour and sift it. Hobi watches as you wait for the eggs to get to room temperature and fucks with the playlist. His phone will eventually get splashed with coco but- it’s okay.

All of this is okay, all of this is I love you I love you I love you and I don’t know what to do with all of it, can you take someone it, please. I don’t have enough space in my body to hold all of it. Hoseok doesn’t speak for how sheer the impulse is just to blurt it out.

The yellow plastic mixing bowl keeps clattering against the counter as you stir the egg yolks until they froth up and fizz. Pouting you turn your eyes to him. “Can you help?”

Hoseok has to swallow back the words before they slip past. Hopping up a little too quickly. “Yeah of course.”

You don’t tell him what you’re making, let him guess. So many of your recipes need egg whites and vanilla. You let him put it together on his own. Hobi doesn’t peek at your recipe book and spoil the surprise.

Every action, every spoonful of sugar is I love you too, just say it. You don’t talk about the sex you just had and you don’t say I love you to him. You wait for him to say it first. You don’t say a thing besides; “Just a half teaspoon of that; drizzle it a little at a time, or else it clumps together. Good.” Hobi’s cheeks heat with every bit of praise and you have a lot of it for him.

Hobi looks away when you look up from the bowl, oh so carefully folding the batter and egg whites together. So gently that the hiss and bubble of whipped egg yolks disintegrating is hardly audible.

Hobi hasn’t baked since he was a kid; since he got into his head that chocolate chip cookies were totally something that an eight-year-old should be able to make on their own without adult supervision and almost burned his parents’ apartment to the ground. He tells you the story and you laugh.

He can tell that you’re making adjustments as you go. Adding in a bit of cinnamon, piping off the cookies in neat little lines, and then tapping them oh so carefully to get rid of the bubbles.

The stove preheats and then the tray goes in, filling the room with your scent. That cakey baking aroma that has him resting his head back against the cabinets when you sit on the floor and greedily breathing in.

You wait the 30 minutes like that, sitting on the floor between the cabinets and stove. Your feet pressed to his knees and a glass of lemonade between the two of you.

“You really like baking,” he says, and your eyelashes flutter, you must be getting tired. He takes your feet into his lap, using his hand to massage up your calf. Smiling when you sigh.

“Yeah, it makes me feel- I don’t know. I like making the world sweeter, just a little. Even if it’s just my little corner of it. Making things you guys like makes me happy too.”

“You know, you could go to culinary school if you wanted.” Hobi gets a little shy because you hadn’t explicitly told Jin and Namjoon not to tell anyone about your plans or your application (still pending). It will be a few more weeks until you find out, but that change is just on the horizon.

He's already seen Jimin perusing expensive leather bookbags and has overseen a recommendation letter coming from Namjoon’s email. Hobi might have read it for him to double-check because Hobi always notices things the others might gloss over. Jin and Tae had given it proof read too.

You make a noise in your throat, halfway between a hum in approval and a hum in distaste. “I don’t know, it seems like- a lot to do for a hobby.”

Hobi and you are the only two in the pack who wanted to go to college but didn’t. Couldn’t in your case because Geumjae wouldn’t let you and flunked out in his. He gets the lack of clarity in your voice; to go back or not go back. To try again or not try at all and not worry about whether or not you’re enough.

“I already started applying anyway. Namjoon and Jin and Tae put a lot of effort into helping me apply and-” You let out a frustrated sigh.

Hobi shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter. You can change your mind.” There is always time. You tap your toes against his shins and he grabs your feet and you jerk, ticklish. And he almost almost gives in to the urge to tell you he loves you right then and there.

“But could you be happy? Doing this all the time?” You turn, putting your hand over your eyes to peer into the oven and make sure that the ladyfingers are rising properly. “Doing it every day? Would it make you happy?”

You pause, hand on the door before replying in a small voice. “Yeah, maybe. Maybe I could be happy.”

You stand with a crack of your knees, sticking out your hand for Hobi and almost falling into him when he truly uses your hand to help himself up.

“Come on, we’ve got to make the whipped cream next-”

It goes like that, you both talking, and Hobi fucking with the playlist. Thinking three little words and not saying them.

You let the ladyfingers cool for a few minutes while you make the expresso. Dunking them in quickly. Piping out the honey-flavored whipped cream in sticky little dollops. Shaking out the cocoa with a practiced hand.

You make the caramel for the top last. Sugar-burning, glass-like little strands on top for a bit of crunch.

The tiramisu is a delicate creation, the layers perfectly spaced out in just the right ratio of cream to chocolate. You let it sit for a second in the fridge and when you take it out, you cut it into a single perfect little square and put it on a plate for him. Treading over the blue painter’s tape line and lingering by him where he sits.

“Try it.” You ask and he does obediently.

Hobi takes a bite of it, rolling the flavors around his tongue while you watch. You haven’t cut a piece for yourself just yet, but you have a fork. You stand on the other side of the kitchen island and take a bite from the other corner of the pan, humming happily when the taste hits your tongue.

It really is your favorite. You grin at the plate, “I could finish this whole thing in one sitting.”

Hobi takes another bite. It’s really good, the flavors are simple but delicate, each of them identifiable but yet cohesive. He could eat all of it too.

Hoseok swallows and realizes why it's your favorite; It tastes like all of you- like the pack.

The honey whipped cream is Jin and Jungkook, and the chocolate cocoa on top is your mate; dark chocolate like an Oreo cookie. Hobi thinks it might not be normal cocoa. The homemade ladyfingers are soaked through with Namjoon's coffee and the cake itself is a delicate dance of Tae’s cinnamon, Jimin’s vanilla, and your scent too. Buttery and yummy.

He's finished half of what's on his plate before he realizes that you added the crunchy layer on top, the caramel too.

That’s Hobi isn’t it? The Burnt sugar sweetness. He knows that’s not typical but still, you added in anyway. The smell of caramel is thick in the air. Sweet sweet sweet. Hobi always smells the sweetest when he’s falling in love.

The tiramisu tastes like the whole pack. Like love soaked threw. Hobi’s heart and body is full of it.

He thinks this might be his favorite too.

Hobi tries to blink back the wetness, really tries not to cry as he takes another big bite. He gets a little bit of whipped cream on his lip, licking it and sniffling. You pause, a bite hovering between the plate and your mouth before you set down your fork with a clink.

“Oh Hobi”

The space between you is nothing more than air as you quickly head around the kitchen island. You cup both of his cheeks and he sags into the touch, hands instantly going over yours to keep them there. Tears spilling warm and unabated down his cheeks.

Hobi decides right then he is beyond pretending that he doesn’t want it, that he doesn’t want you. Wet cheeks and imploring eyes.

“Oh Hoseok, what’s wrong?”

You’re standing between his legs and your collarbone rests against his cheek. Your hand runs through his hair and his heart pulses hard.

"I didn’t mean to make you cry. If this is because-” you trail off. You don’t say that you shouldn’t have had sex earlier because you can’t find it in yourself to regret this even a little bit. But you are sorry for not doing it in a way that didn't make him cry. If that's why he's crying.

“No it’s not that. I just-" Hoseok can hardly speak his mouth is so full of love that it bursts from him before he has a chance to think it through. Sobbing a little as he says it;

"I'm crying because I love you and I don’t know how to tell you.”

Hobi stutters and your hands on his cheeks go firm for a second before they relax. “I love you; I love being around you, I love that you're my best friend and that i get to love you too. I love living in this house with you. I’m crying because for the first time I get it-”

He can’t stop the confession now that it's started, and if he'd just open his eyes he'd get to see your smile but they're screwed shut tight.

“I get it, I get why once Yoongi met you, he couldn’t leave. I understand why he brought you back to us. But-” he hiccups and you giggle a little at the sound. His eyes shoot open and he realizes that you're crying too- that you haven't stepped away. You wipe away his tears with your thumbs and grin down at him.

“I'm so fucking afraid too- I can’t help but feel like the way we started just- fucked everything up. I fucked everything up back then by being jealous. I look at you and I’m scared I’ll fuck this up.”

You hold his face in your hands and think; I will be gentle with you, I will be gentle with you even if it kills me. You have never loved someone broken like you, and you know how easy it is to make a wrong step. But you’re sure when you say the words anyway.

“You won’t.”

“But-” you kiss his hands, knuckles, fingertips. His forehead, his lips Everything. Your eyes are focused and Hobi can’t look away.

“You won’t, you promised not to hurt me and you won’t.”

He falls silent, and you pull him in close. His lips still tingle from your kiss and you kiss him again, long and lingering, hard with the force of your conviction. It tastes like tiramisu.

When you break apart, Hoseok rests his ear on your heart and listens.

You should say I love you back, you really should return the words. But you think there will be other moments to say them. You'll say it when you wake up with him tomorrow morning, you'll say it when you fall asleep tonight curled close to him. There will be more time to say them- during a late-night drives when you look over at him in the dark. There are always going to be more times to say it and you’ll say it and mean it every time.

Unfortunately, life isn't so neat and tidy.

You wipe his cheeks and he wipes yours and you both giggle, leaning into each other. You get him a tissue for his nose and start laughing all over again. Being with Hobi will always be like this, half your lover and half your best friend.

“Do you want to go on a drive later, only,” you wipe tears from your own eyes, “want to take the others this time?”

He smiles, “That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.”

He tries to pull you in for another kiss but you feed him a bite of tiramisu instead and it gets half on his cheek, “finish your cake alpha,” you command, and Hobi is perilous to disobey. the next bite you take ends up on your cheek too because he tickles you, and you blush when he leans forward to lick it off your cheek. All giggly and happy and close. You sat practically on the edge of the counter. Noodle meows and laps up some of it from the floor.

You don’t need to say I love you back, you already have. Hobi can taste it on the edge of every bite.

You cut him another piece and share it this time, and he can't stop looking at you, can't stop smiling.

You smile around a mouthful, "i'm gonna tear up that train ticket."

"Don't you fucking dare. We've gotta like- put it in a scrap book or something."

You clean up the tiramisu, thinking of what might happen when the pack gets back, thinking of how things will go now that you’ve settled this. They’ll be happy; all of you all together finally. This last piece of your little family finally falling into place.

Maybe it will go like this:

Maybe when the pack gets home, there will not just be tiramisu on the counter. Maybe there will be gluten-free lemon bars and honey cakes. Chocolate ginger cookies dusted with powdered sugar and freshly baked bread with cheese and garlic. Little personal cheesecakes that you made in a muffin tin dotted with jam preserve because now that you’ve started to bake again there might not be anything to stop you.

You already feel the urge in your hands, the urge to make things. You think it might have been learned from Yoongi.

Maybe they’ll come home with pizza, unsure if a party and alcohol is really the proper way to go about celebrating, but the cake from the bakery that Tae will buy as a joke, will have flowery lettering and “congrats for losing your Hobi-ginity"

It will make you laugh until your lungs ache like the fireworks have gone off. Will make him blush and rub the back of his neck in shyness.

When they come home there might be a few sly comments but the pack knows when to tease and when not to. Maybe Namjoon will take a hearty sniff at Hoseok’s throat, dragging it up and down the nape of his neck, huffing happily. (Namjoon has always been a little bit possessive of Hoseok the same way Jin has always been possessive of you, but that's pack alpha's for you).

Tae will tuck your hair behind your ears to get a better look at the mark he left on your throat, manicured fingers gently stroking over it. and Yoongi will shoot him a challenging look and drawl, "really daisy? is this really something you wanna start?" all playful. the way yoongi only gets when he's really really happy.

And when Jin gets home, Maybe he’ll drag you over his lap with some squirming because there is no avoiding this hole check. Not when Jin and the others have been waiting.

Under the hungry eyes of the rest of the pack, you would still squirm. Your mate watching and grinning as he nibbles a piece of pizza and just watches as Jin pulls your sleep shorts down to your knees. Leaving them there to pin your thighs together. Hand against the small of your back to keep you still.

Of course, the pack omega has to look after the two of you and make sure the lowest on the hierarchy is being safe without a stronger presence nearby. But your entrance is pink fucked warm, not red and inflamed. Hoseok’s knot is the perfect thing to warm you up, and Jin tugs his sweatshirt over your hips to keep you warm as he examines you.

Fingers drag your entrance apart to show the others how good hobi did. Prompting them to touch and feel for themselves, all of their fingers teasing at your entrance and all of them touching you. Tae and Jungkook holding your thighs, Jimin and Namjoon resting their hands on your ass to help jin hold you open better and yoongi prodding to feel-

They'd want to see his cum slip out, forced from your hole by your needy clench. Of course, they'd just fuck it back inside because not a drop can go to waste. one set of fingers and then another, jungkook leaning down to taste.

Jin’s eyes would be all dark eyes and honey tones, looking hoseok up and down, cheeks as red as the sweatshirt you wear. His praise makes Hobi feel just a little bit too proud for his own good.

Hobi would probably get a knot-check for that, because if the alpha has something to be proud of then surely the others need to check his ego (and only in the way that hobi likes).

The alphas would scuffle with him a little, wrestling to settle him. Hobi's instincts are still fever bright and he needs to be put in his place. To feel the pack for what they are; very necessary safety bumpers.

He'd go so easily after a few nips- Jimin would help pull his pants down so Namjoon could get his big hands around him, fingers teasing at the red skin around his base and making Hobi growl and gasp. Pausing to cup lower and make sure Hoseok's empty, that he didn't hold back breeding you. Tae would tutt and make him open his mouth, her finger teasing along his teeth just for shits and giggles. Just to make him groan.

Nothing makes an alpha more proud than getting to show off his teeth.

Jin would smile at the display, and croon. “Good alpha.”

Maybe Jin will pat your pussy lips softly before pulling your pants up, making you flinch and then relax and jungkook would bend down to give Hoseok's knot a little kiss before standing.

The whole thing would take maybe 5 minutes but it would leave the whole pack ravenous for more. The final evidence of this finally happening; all of you together and not fragmented.

As you should be, together.

Maybe later, after treats and pizza, you'll all get to go to the beach like Hobi promised. Two separate cars. And Namjoon might let Hoseok and Jimin do donuts in the empty parking lot without too much fuss. The smell of tires and gasoline ripping.

Jungkook whooping and Yoongi watching on with his grin, Jin in the back seat with you going “Oh- oh hope- slow down” looking a little green. But terrorizing the pack omega is kind of your job.

It’s cold and late at night but you’ll tear out across the sand. Running to the shore. Tossing your shoes into the dark and toeing into the waves. Yelling happy.

You and Hobi will try and throw Yoongi into the water and then the other alphas will actually succeed in throwing Namjoon, pushing him until he inevitably tumbles into the seafoam. All 7 of you will try and wrangle Jungkook into the same wet fate and fail.

Jin will tuck Namjoon’s wet hair back behind his ear and grin at him, his grin saying the words they don’t need to. Kisses tases like secrets and salt but that much has not changed. Might never change when it comes to the eight of you. All the secrets in the world couldn’t keep you apart.

You’ll get zoomy in the way that dogs get in wide-open spaces. You’ll run. Your feet slapping against the sand, tossing spray into the air as high as your laughter, chasing after each other. A bunch of barefoot kids in too-big bodies and sand between your toes. Hands clasped tight in each other’s so that you won’t let go. You won’t ever let go now that you've found them.

For once you'll be absent of all the things that drag you down. Lighter than the warm air that billows over the sea. Mouths that store special secret salty smiles for the better. Damp fingers that curl against warm wrists. holding onto each other tight even though you’re running and running-

Running.

Maybe.

But that’s not what happens. Instead, what happens is this;

You are sitting at the kitchen counter when Hobi gets a text. It’s from Jungkook asking about the pizza types that you’d want and

Yoongi’s left his phone, he says with a little 👀 emoji. But he won’t truly tease the both of you until he gets home. Of course Yoongi was too distracted by you and Hobi post coitous to grab it from the other room.

you to to the pantry to put away the flour and this close- you can hear another phone ring from the bathroom. It's it yours? Only No, it's not your phone sitting on the counter, but Yoongi’s. Lighting up with Jin’s contact information.

JinJinJin: 5 missed calls.

It's so like your mate to leave his phone in such a random place. You smile as you pick up.

Jin is already talking a mile a minute. Fear and panic make his words come quick and desperate.

“Yoongi- why the fuck didn't you pick up" You don't have time to respond. Don't have time to let him know it's not your mate but you that picked up the phone.

"I don’t know how the fuck it happened, I don’t know- but-“ he’s almost shouting over the phone, such raw panic in his voice that it has your body going frozen.

Jin lets out a broken sobbing breath.

"I shot Minnie.”

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 Every little bit of encouragement helps <3

Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

Series Masterlist ~ Donate ~ Twitter

~-~

Notes:

I ended up editing out a good portion of Hoseok ’s inner monologue at the begining, because I realized that at that point in time with the other pack he wouldn’t have been thinking stuff about how terrible it was because it wasn’t terrible yet. i probably should have even edited it fluffier if we're being honest. i think that would have been more unsettling.

The line where she says “One second you're holding back and the next you're kissing him like he's Yoongi and he's kissing you like he's starving.” Is a little hard to explain, she’s not thinking about Yoongi in that moment but the person she associates the most with love is Yoongi so- yeah it made sense. I feel like this line might make people go a little like “what??”

I swear if you guys didn’t cry a little at the ‘It doesn’t hurt at all.’ Parts I’m not doing this right because I was SOBBING.

Listen, I almost edited out the line where he calls her pussy an inside joke so many times- but for me- when I was younger I always wanted to be a part of inside jokes because like- if you are that means you’ve got history with someone- Hoseok is thinking this because until this moment- he hasn’t been able to be apart of something that the rest of the pack had understood.

When Hoseok was leaving a hickey over her mating mark it’s his way of saying “this is mine too 😠” to Yoongi,

Honestly??? Why is Hobi so feral in this like- he’s a /little/ unhinged from how much he wants her and tbh it’s fair. Look away if you don’t wanna read him going APESHIT for her.

ALSO- I’m just imagining him on the walk with jungkook and Tae, cheeks slowly pinking up because he can feel that they’re having sex down the mating bond, maybe getting hard and the others noticing, both of them plastering themselves along his side and teasing him with words like “do you think he’s making her all wet and messy hyung? Do you think she’s gonna cream around his cock like she creams around yours?” and Yoongi just- endlessly suffering around the two horndogs that are Tae on estrogen and jungkook on a regular day.

The moment where they’re holding hands and it’s talking about palmistry is a refrence to noah kahan’s song everywhere everything and the line “it’s been a long year, in all of our books pages dog eared, we write out the ends on our palms dear, and forget to read.”

The worst worst worst part about this chapter is that I don’t??? have a fucking recipe for the tiramisu?? Like I’ve made it before but I’ve never made honey flavored whipped cream or put caramel on top 🥺 maybe I’ll test it out one dayand update this chapter

Okay so the ‘flash into the improbable future at the end is a little too horny for the end of smutt but I couldn’t just /not/ put it in there because you know how I love a good hole check scene.

do you hate me because of this cliffhanger? even i have to say its a little unforgivable.

please be patient for next chapter because i do not have A SINGLE fucking word written for it. like nada, we're starting from scratch come monday.

~-~

Hobi's sex Playlist (jk isn't not a sex playlist)

Dominic fike- Mama's boy (hobis' flashback)

Mitski – my love mine all mine. (yoongi telling him to be good)

Lana del ray – chemtrails over the country club. (the sex)

Olivia Rodrigo – can’t catch me now (when they're both triggered from the respective abusive relationships)

Tom o’dell – black Friday. (Juz cuz)

[thrillered]

idk if you are taking request, but if so

is it cool to request surprising spencer in lingerie? doesn't have to get smutty btw just feel like he deserves a lil something

Your Surprise | Spencer Agnew x reader

Slightly NSFW🚨

Pls enjoy ily

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

-

Spencer was a great boyfriend. You loved him very dearly. He was the picture of perfection in your relationship. You had been living together for 3 years and had a comfortable routine.

Lately though, things were weird. 

Spencer had been working a lot more lately. You knew his job was demanding, especially since he got his promotion last year and that his company was working on a few big things right now. 

He was clearly overworking himself and your relationship was feeling the consequences. It was neither of your guys fault, you both were working hard– you worked as a game dev and just finished a large project. 

You used to get home around the same time, now he was getting home over an hour later than you, quiet, tense, and exhausted. You hadn’t been getting more than a kiss hello and goodbye from him in weeks. He was usually a very generous lover and you always tried to give back to him. 

—

Spencer had sent you a text around lunch letting you know that the project was getting pushed back by two weeks and he wasn’t sure when he would get home tonight. That was okay, of course, but you were disappointed. 

You had a half day and decided to try and do something extra nice for Spencer. You went to the grocery store and picked up a bunch of fresh ingredients so he would be able to come home to a hot home cooked meal. While you were driving home to begin food prepping you noticed a new clothing store in a strip mall. 

Curiosity got the best of you and you decided to stop in. Most of the clothing wasn’t exactly your style but there were a few pairs of jeans that fit you perfectly and you noticed they had a very nice lingerie section. 

Feeling confident, you tried on a few pairs. You thought a new pair of lingerie would make both you and Spencer feel excited. You both had been very tense, especially Spencer, and your lack of an intimate life lately wasn’t helping. You immediately bought your favorite three pairs, smiling to yourself at the thought of surprising your wonderful boyfriend. 

—

Spencer let you know he would be home around 8 pm. It was around 7:40 and your meal was simmering on the stove, filling the space with delicious aromatics. You had a plate of eclairs you made sitting on the counter as well. You went and changed into a pair of your new lingerie. It was a black matching set with silky bows and delicate lace. You felt very confident in it, admiring yourself in the mirror before throwing on a t-shirt and sweats. 

You were plating the meals when you heard his key in the door. 

“Hey babe.” He yelled through your home. 

You walked into the foyer to welcome him. “Hi love.” You greeted, giving him a hug and a kiss. “How was work?” 

“It was rough, I won't lie.” He sighed, taking off his shoes and jacket. “You cooking?” He asked, noticing the aroma in the air. 

“Yeah,” You shrugged, “I wanted to do something nice for you.” 

“Oh babe, you don’t have to do anything, just being here is everything I need.” 

“You’ve been working so hard though.” You said, leading him into the kitchen. “And I assume you haven’t eaten in a while. Come eat, it’s still hot.” 

He sat down with you, enjoying the food you made. This might have been the longest conversation you'd had with him in over a week. You both were laughing and having a great time. You felt incredibly relieved at how the night was going. Your heart felt so full of love. You missed this, you missed being around Spencer.

“Have room for dessert?” You asked, clearing his empty plate.

“You made dessert too?” He asked, a large smile on his face. 

“Of course I did.” You brought out the plate of eclairs, explaining the different flavors you had made. 

You and Spencer shared a few, watching as he taste tested the baked goods. 

“God you are incredible.” He praised. “Everything was delicious, thank you.” 

“Of course babe, you deserve it.” You smiled, wiping some whipped cream from the corner of his lip. “You’ve been so tense lately.” 

You walked around the table, wrapping your arms around his neck and hugging him before placing a soft kiss on his neck. “Like really tense, wow.” You remarked, feeling the tension in his back and neck. You began massaging away the knots, smiling when he sighed in relief. 

He turned around when you finished, standing and resting his hands on your hips. He moved his hands under your shirt, his eyebrows shooting up when he felt the soft lace. “What's this?” He asked. 

“One last little surprise?” You asked, a flirtatious glint in your eye. 

“Surprise away.” He said breathlessly. 

You grabbed his hand and brought him into your shared bedroom, pushing him to sit in the bed. He sat back, watching you intently. 

Facing away from your boyfriend you slowly stripped off your shirt, revealing the top half of the set, allowing your hair to flow down over your shoulders. You slowly turned around, noting the sharp inhale from Spencer. 

“Holy shit.” He breathed, his pupils dilating. 

“You like it? Wanna see the rest?” You purred. 

He nodded eagerly, brushing a hand over his blushing face. You sauntered up to him, biting your lip slightly. “Help me out?” You asked, gesturing for him to untie your sweats and pull them down. 

He did as you offered, almost salivating looking at you. He was enamored. You looked so beautiful and sexy he didn’t know what to do. “You are so fucking perfect.” He managed to get out, his mind going fuzzy at the sight of you. 

You stepped out of your sweats, doing a playful spin for him. You had barely made it back around to face him before he was on his feet, pulling you into a passionate kiss. You immediately reciprocated, excited by his eagerness. 

He ran his hands up and down your sides, groaning at the silk and lace beneath his fingertips. He had been so busy that he hadn’t really noticed the lack in your intimate life and now that you had lit a spark he felt like he was on fire. He couldn’t get enough of you, his hands were everywhere, heating every inch of you. 

He pushed you towards the bed, laying you on your back. He disconnected your lips, standing above you. You tried to pull him back into you, missing his touch immediately. “Just let me look at you.” He said, trying to memorize every detail of you with eyes full of lust. 

You were laying on your back, your hair splayed out behind you, the soft moonlight accentuating your soft skin and curves. Spencer wasn’t sure he had seen anything more beautiful. You were a work of art, the greatest renaissance painting. He felt so lucky to have you. 

You smiled up at him, blushing under his intense gaze. You ran your hand through your hair and down your torso, landing to rest gently on your hip. “Spencer, I need you, please.” You pleaded, your chest rising and falling with each breath. 

That was all the encouragement he needed, he quickly removed his shirt, revealing his broad chest. In an instant he was back on top of you, slotting his lips in yours. You ran your hands up and down his chest, tracing the line of hair that trailed down his abdomen before reaching his belt. 

With quick and precise fingers you unbuckled the metal, pulling the leather away from the loops in a swift motion. Spencer’s lips left yours, moving across your cheek and down your jaw. You sighed in pleasure as he made his way onto your neck, threading your fingers through his curls that you love so much, pulling on them slightly as he nipped at your pulse point, earning a satisfied groan from him. 

He continued his barrage of open mouth kisses down your body, paying extra attention to the areas covered in lace. With one of his hands holding himself above you he circled the other one under you, massaging the plush skin of your thigh and ass. 

Strained moans got caught in your throat with each touch you shared. Spencer had kissed down your torso, kneeling on the ground in front of where your hips laid. He hooked his fingers around the lacy bottoms of the lingerie set. 

“Wait,” You breathed, stopping Spencer before he could pull the cloth down. “You’re working so hard,” you began pulling him up by his chin and stopping a few inches from your face. “You’re so tense,” You rubbed down his strong shoulders. “Let me take care of you tonight.” 

“You’ve already done so much..” Spencer countered, placing a series of lengthening kisses on your lips. 

“Sh sh sh,” you shushed, shrugging him off. “I love you Spencer, let me make you feel good.” You persuaded, your eyes sparkling with love and passion. “Let me take all the stress away.”

[sunshine-theseus]

Pequeña | Kyra Cooney-Cross x Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: you make stupid decisions but you got your girl in the end.

Warning: fluff, horrible self-care, fainting

My parents and I moved from Spain to England when I was 5.

I was a quiet kid with no friends, who spent most of her time reading or listening to music. At seven years old my parents decided to sign me up for my local football kids club to try and get me to ‘open my wings’, their code for ‘stop being a fucking loner we value popularity over smarts’. I haven’t seen them in 8 years.

Turns out I was fucking great at football and by 12 I was in the Arsenal Football Academy. At 15 I was playing for their Women’s team in the WSL and was debuting for England’s national team. I spent most of that time on the bench of course, but by 17 I had a large ‘1’ on my back and was starting 90% of games at Arsenal. I didn’t have many friends though, especially when I knew most would either leave to bigger leagues or transfer teams. I preferred it though because that meant I had plenty of time between training and games to study and read and play music.

Another 6 years later and I’m playing for England in the Semi-finals of the 2023 World Cup against Australia. I wasn’t our main goalie, but Mary had gotten a concussion so that left me and like hell I would let us lose this close to the finals. I’d nearly managed to keep a clean sheet until Sam Kerr came running up from halfway, past Millie and chipped it behind me into the goal. Despite the goal, we won.

As I’m walking toward the girls, I tripped over something, or someone, sitting on the sidelines near the tunnel. One of the Aussie girls, clearly tired and upset, curled up to their goalkeeper. If there was one thing I could do, it was recognise a phenomenal goalkeeper when I see one, and Mackenzie Arnold was just that.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper to her as I pat her shoulder and copy the gesture for the girl next to her.

I didn’t know much about her, but I’d seen her play. Her footwork was incredible, and she was clearly underrated and underestimated, something Arsenal could benefit from.

“Wanna swap jerseys?” it comes out soft, I almost miss it as I turn away. When I turn back around, I expect to see Mac offering her’s, but instead I see the younger girl looking up at me questioningly and I smile. I’d already swapped with Mac in a friendly earlier this year, and I love collecting jerseys from different players.

“Fuck yeah.” and within seconds she has my jersey pulled over her head, and it hangs loosely, clearly a few too many sizes too big for her.

I then pull on her’s, for a moment fearful it would be too small, but I’m thankful for her clear preference for baggy clothes as it slips over my torso. Mackenzie beckons over their photographer, and I pose with the still nameless girl. She’s small in comparison to my 5’11 stature and I giggle at the difference before offering her a piggyback for a silly photo.

As she jumps up, I notice shocked stares of my teammates from the corner of my eye but shake it off as she wraps her arm around my neck as if to choke me.

“Has anyone told you how small you are?” I ask her as I drop her back to the ground.

“They don’t shut up about it.”

“I think I’ll call you Pequeña.” I chuckle at her confused look.

“It means small in Spanish.”

“What the fuck!? Fine I’m calling you fucking Giant or something.”

I don’t get her actual name that night, but I look it up when I get back to my hotel room, Lotte missing from the space.

Kyra Cooney-Cross. An unexpected star.

I watch one of her games instead of doing my uni work and fall asleep to one her interviews playing.

~~~~~

I don’t expect to see Kyra until whatever friendly we have with Australia before the Olympics. In the time after the World Cup and before pre-season, I’ve hung her jersey in my hallway, along with all the others. I put her’s at the entrance with others like Mapi León and Christine Sinclair, people I consider special.

We also begin talking. A lot. I spend most of my spare time calling or texting her, but I don’t tell anyone.

The shock I get when the final minute of the pre-season transfer window approaches, and I get a notification from the Arsenal Women twitter account.

‘KYRA COONEY-CROSS IS A GUNNER✍️’

~~~~~

We’d been knocked out of the qualifiers for the Championship League and yet I walk into training on Monday with a slight spring in my step and excitement buzzing through me. I wave to all the staff and greet everyone, asking how the girls are when I walk into the locker room.

It’s Katie who asks.

“What the fuck is up with you Ms Dark and Broody?”

“Whatever do you mean?” I giggle.

She gives me and incredulous look before turning to the rest of the locker room who share similar expressions.

“W- wh- wh-” she continues to babble as Steph pulls her back to her cubby and pats her shoulder as a way of reassurance.

“You just… you’re never so smiley or talkative. At all. Like ever. Like in the past 8 years you’ve said maybe 100 words per season to me.” Lotte speaks up.

“Not true!”

“I’ve only seen you without a book off the pitch 13 times. I started counting after the 1st.” My jaw drops.

“She’s not wrong Y/n. You’re pretty reserved and stoic. Which there’s nothing wrong with! But it’s just odd to see you, well like this.” Manu points at me as if that’s explanation enough.

“Wow thanks gu-” I’m cut off by someone jumping on my back and screaming.

“BEANSTALK!” and I’m smiling all over again as I turn my head to see the young Australian I’ve been missing.

“PEQUEÑA!”

“I can’t believe I had to put up with your nerdy shit in person every day now.” She jumps off my back and moves to greet the other girls except for Steph and Caitlin who she obviously knows.

We don’t get much time to talk before Jonas calls us into the meeting room. He introduces all our new players like Kyra and Lessi and announces the return of Vivianne and Beth to our playing squad, before going over how we need to improve after our defeat in the Champions League.

“L/n, I know you just came 2nd in the World Cup but you cannot be slacking like you did in the game against Pairs. You’ve got to be doing more.” I don’t get to reply before he’s ushering us out onto the pitch.

I’m left in a sour mood the rest of training, once again avoiding everyone, including Kyra who seemingly found a close friend in Alessia. I had given my all in that game against Paris, but they were good, and I’d stayed up until 2am the night before completing one of my assignments for my uni degree, something Jonas had encouraged me to do.

I was more mad that he didn’t allow me to tell him why but either way, I’d decided I would be staying after training to practice until I couldn’t any longer. So I did. And I came in an hour early the next morning to get more training in. I continued to do this for a while, studying once I got home until I couldn’t keep my eyes open now that my usual study time was booked. Eventually the girls stopped inviting me for coffee or team bonding and Kyra stopped trying to talk.

We were playing against Man United when I began to sway side to side, and my eyes began to droop. I think Kyra noticed first while on the sideline, and whispered something to Katie as she passed by the bench, but nothing came of it until United got a corner. They didn’t even get to kick the ball before I crumpled to the ground beside a clueless Lotte and Katie Zelem.

I don’t feel myself get carried off the pitch or get transferred to an ambulance. I don’t think I recognise anything happening around me until hours later. The clock on the wall says 9:21 and I think I’ve only slept for a few hours, but then I notice the sun streaming through the curtains and realise the few might actually be a lot.

I then recognise the limp bodies spread across the room. The awfully sterile white room which is nothing like the warmth of my olive-green bedroom. I don’t think I’d been so slow to figure out what was going on in my life.

“Beanstalk! You’re awake!” I look to the small brunette who has been hunched over asleep next to me for god knows how long and smile.

“Hey pequeña.”

“You are so stupid!” Kyra slaps my arm and sends me a sharp glare.

“What the fuck is going on. You’ve been exhausted 24/7 and no one sees you outside of training.” I then decide to explain my rather stupid schedule and reasoning to her.

She stares blankly at me for a while.

“You are genuinely so fucking dumb. I was so worried about you.” She whispers.

“Why?”

“Because I love you.” Her eyes drop to her lap.

“Te amo.” I’m not sure she understands it but she smiles either way and leans in.

Just as our lips meet, Katie abruptly wakes up in her corner of the room and shrieks.

“What the fuck!” and we’re left to quickly pull away as she tries to wake everyone else up to tell them what she saw.

“Katie don’t be fucking ridiculous! They’re both sound asleep.” I hear Kim whisper shout, followed by more of Katie’s babbling about how we’re just pretending as they trail out of the room, assumedly getting coffee.

As the door clicks shut, I open one eye to glance around the now empty room. It seems everyone needed some coffee. Except a certain Australian, whose eyes also peak open.

“Kiss me.” And then her lips are on mine again.

~~~~~

I don’t play again until our game against Bristol for the Conti Cup. Jonas apologised for pushing me too hard but made it clear I was to properly rest before I get to do anything and makes Sarina Weigman promise not to play me during our international break.

Kyra also gets her first starting debut.

It’s a tough game, and in the 84th minute, Kyra drops to the ground. I nearly run to check on her, but she gets back up, and within another minute she gets subbed off for Vic.

The whistle blows, signalling the end of the game, we win 3-1.

I meet Kyra in the middle of the field, pick her up and swing her around. Our first proper game playing together seems like an obvious thing to celebrate. And before I can think, I’m leaning down and kissing her, something I’m not sure if I’ll regret later.

She smiles that smile, brighter than the sun, and I melt.

“Te amo pequeña.”

[cazzyf1]

An Article about Lella Lombardi - Nobody makes jokes about women drivers around Lella Lombardi

The sleek Lola T-332 racing car crossed the starting line at the river side, Calif, Grand Prix, hurtled ahead of three cars, and swooped back inside with split-second timings.

"You mean that's really a girl?" Muttered three times indianapolis 500 winner A. J. Foyt, looking on in incredulously from the side liners.

For Lella Lombardi, the first woman in 17 years (and the second ever) to compete on high performance Formula One circut - the big leagues of professionals auto racing - the question is all but invetable. What in the world is a nice Italian girl like Lella doing in overalls and a crash helmet, risking her life at speeds close to 200 miles an hour?

"That's what mama keeps asking me," says the tomboyish 31-year-old Lella, "I guess she thinks I should be home with a good husband and a houseful of bambini."

It was obvious from the beginning, to Lella at least, that she was cut from different cloth compared to most girls. Born in the little Piedmontese village of Furgarolo, she was hooked on auto racing before she was out of diapers.

"The first I remember, I am perhaps 4 or 5 years old," she recalls, "I was making little cars from things I found in my mum's sewing box. When I was 8 I decided I shall be a racing driver. I didn't say anything but I made up my mind."

As a teenager Lella raced motorcycles with boys in her village. The boys were scandalized she beat them - their mothers that she was racing at all. Eventually the village priest came to call.

"He explained why I should be like a girl and what a girl must do," she remembers. "So I told him, 'yes father' but all the time I am thinking why am I not allowed to do as I want."

Nothing if not persistent, Lella saw her first race at 18. Five years later she brought a car of her own, secondhand, Formula Monza 500 that she tinkered with and drove in races herself. Last year, nearly after a decade of coming up through the ranks, she was approached by March Racing Ltd, of England which was looking for a driver for its two-man Grand Prix team.

"Formula 2, Formula 3, Formula 5000 - I raced in them all," says Lella, "I win a lot in Italy - six times women's champion. So when March comes to ask me to try out for them, I say to myself, 'Why not?'"

March's decision to hire her was hardly made lightly. A single Grand Prix car costs $100,000 and putting it through a season of racing costs several hundred thousand dollars more.

"Putting a woman into a Grand Prix cockpit means shattering a lot of tradition," acknowledges March team manager, Max Mosley. "Of course, my wild told me, the only reason I was hesitating was because of Lella's sex, no doubt about her skill, in the end, I guess my wife was right."

Now prepping for this Sunday's Monaco Grand Prix, Lella is given little chance of winning a race this season (although she finished a respectable sixth in last week's accident-shorter Spanish Grand Prix) since March is designing its cars. Some drivers perhaps disturbed by Lella's invasion of their male peserve, doubt the chunky, 5"2, Lombardi has the stamina for long-distance racing. But March chief Roy Wardell, was watching her during a gruelling test of the company's racers, disagrees.

"Thrasing a car about it bloody hard work," he says, "most male drivers would have been bitching and complaining but she drove more than 300 miles flat out without a whimper." Her main fault, says Wardell, is a rookie's understandable caution. "Lella is still a bit afraid that if she spins out everyone will say, 'see a woman driver'" he says, "but her confidence is building. Pretty soon she'll be mixing it up with the best of them."

[i-m-art-ix]

Ninjago headcanons just FSM family

(Sorry for my English but it is not my native language)

1#

Lloyd discovered one day that if he just calls Wu uncle he can get out of any trouble (because Wu adores his nephew), which he often uses to his advantage, for example, when he was still a child, he would often approach Wu and ask for various things, and if Wu did not agree, he would simply say "Okay, Uncle Wu" in the saddest voice he could, which made Wu immediately change his mind and agree. As Lloyd got older he stopped using it as much but still does it sometimes. Best of all, everyone is aware of this except Wu himself, so if the ninja want to do something and know that Wu won't agree, they send Lloyd to "convince" Wu.

2#

FSM was a teenage parent, I'm mean in season 15 it was said that when he came to ninjago he was still a child and as we know hybrids age differently so I'm sure when he created Wu and Garmadon (I don't give a damn that this man had a woman, I just don't see it) he was still a teenager and mentally he could have been about 18-20 years old.

3#

I'm sure FSM tried to be a good parent but didn't know what to do, apart from the fact that he was still a teenager at the time, this man never had any idea what a healthy family should look like, he literally was a child soldier and had to choose between dragons and Oni and I suspect that neither the dragons or the Oni were not very nice to him and they probably didn't have much affection for him. And unfortunately it was visible, but he loved his sons (and he certainly loves his grandson).

4#

So screw the canon, Wu never loved Misako, he didn't like her at first (because he claimed she was stealing his brother because Garmadon only talked about her), later he started liking her and then they became good friends.

5#

So when I said that Wu doesn't love Misako, I mean that Wu is gay, no really look at the teenage version of him, he can't be straight.

6#

I am sure that Wu was the creator of many fashion trends, considering that back then there was not much fashion and Wu had the power to create, he had to create many clothes that no one had ever seen before. Many of these clothes were very sexy and revealed a lot of things.

7#

Due to the way Wu dressed, many men stared at him and flirted with him, which of course neither Garmadon or their father not liked, that's why they never sent Wu to the city alone, someone always went with him and whenever a man tried to hit on him he got a death glare from Garmadon or FSM (which must have been terrifying, as if God himself wants to kill you because you thought in a erotic way about his son and also Garmadon who is the essence of destruction and intends to rip out your organs for looking at his younger brother).

8#

FSM loves his grandson, the guy literally gave him his golden power without a second thought and even let him choose between life and death, he must adore Lloyd.

9#

Before the events of Season 1, when Lloyd was expelled from school and wandered the streets, FSM was his guardian angel. He made sure Lloyd didn't hurt himself, and when he did something to himself, he simply accelerated his regeneration with his divine powers, when Lloyd had nothing to eat, he directed him to places where food could be easily obtained. In episode 1 of season 1, when Lloyd gets to the tomb, he falls over perfectly to avoid being hypnotized and the leader of the snakes hypnotized himself, it not way that this kid failed perfectly, I'm actually sure that his grandfather helped him

[reigningqueenofwords]

Go Sports!

Pairing: Dean x Reader Request: @jessicalynnann Foot ball coach dean a fluffy love story ha ha ha

Letting out a sigh, you glanced down at your nephew. “You couldn’t do band?” You teased him. 

“Nope!” He grinned. “I wanna learn football!” He said proudly. 

“Alright, let’s do this.” You walked with him towards the other kids. Your sister and her husband had died the spring before, leaving you to raise your 8 year old nephew. He’d had a rough spot not long after moving in with you, but you cut the kid some slack. He’d lost his parents. Then, right before school started, he said he wanted to try out for football that fall. Which, you hadn’t even been aware football for kids that young was even a thing. After some googling, you’d found the local team for his age. 

He ran ahead of you, eager to get started. You stood off a bit from the other parents, feeling out of place. You were only 23, so you got some odd looks. Your sister was 11 years older than you, so of course the two of you were in different phases of your lives! “You look a little nervous.” Came a smooth voice, making you jump slightly. “Sorry. I’m Dean.” He held out his hand. 

“Y/N.” You shook it. “Still getting used to all things ‘kid’.” You admitted. “But, he really wants to learn to play football, so here I am.” 

“Little brother?” He asked, looking to where you were pointing. 

You shook your head. “Nephew.” That one word said so much. 

He nodded, not prying. “Well, good luck to him getting on the team.” 

“I’m hoping. I read comments about the coach- Coach Winchester. Everything said he was great with kids, and parents saw a boost in their kid’s confidence working with him. Of course, some of the moms just called him ‘yummy’.” You noted. “I figured that would be someone I’d like working with David. I mean, aside from the yummy thing. That was just an odd thing I noted.” 

“Hopefully football can be a good outlet for him.” He said casually, not making a comment about the ‘yummy’ part. 

“Coach!” A man with a mullet came over, making you raise an eyebrow at Dean. “Looks like everyone who signed up for tryouts is here.” 

Dean smiled at you. “Hi, I’m Dean Winchester. I coach the Little Bangles. This is my assistant coach, Ash. Bit weird, but the kids love him.” 

“This isn’t awkward at all.” You said shyly. “Hi, Ash. I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself to him. “I’ll let you guys get to tryouts. I’ll be over…there…” You motioned behind you before quickly turning and walking away. 

“She’s cute.” Ash noted. 

Dean watched you walk away. “Yes, she is.” He said before taking the clipboard from Ash to go rally the kids. 

David made the team, which meant you’d be seeing a lot more of Coach Dean Winchester. The thought slightly flustered you. Which was why you had to do a double take when he walked into your job two weeks after tryouts. “Hi, Coach. Can I get you something to drink?” You asked after you handed him a menu. 

“Coke, thanks.” He gave you a grin that damn near melted you. 

“One Coke.” You noted, going to get that. No wonder the moms called the man ‘yummy’. “Here you go.” You said as you set down his glass a few minutes later. “Do you need a few minutes?”

He shook his head. “I’ll have the bacon cheeseburger and fries, sweetheart.” He handed you the menu. “How’s working going today?” Dean asked as you took the menu before writing his order down. 

“Not too bad, thankfully. Almost over.” You told him truthfully. “Been on my feet since 5 this morning.” 

He made a face. “Oh, bet David loved getting up that early.” He chuckled, lighting up when you laughed. 

“No, my best friend is a God-send. She’s a nurse and gets off at like 4 am. She went to catch a nap at my place and then watch him until I get home.” You were beyond thankful for her. “But, I will get that order in for you.” You gave him a small wave and went to get his ticket into the kitchen. 

Dean was just finishing up his meal when you came over. “Refill?” You motioned to his Coke. 

“No thanks, sweetheart.” He shook his head. “How much longer until you get off?” 

“You’re my last table. So, I once I get you cashed out, I’m headed home to listen to David talk to me about football and try to follow along.” You chuckled, making Dean grin. 

“Not a fan of it?” He asked as he pulled out his wallet. “Can I get the check?” 

You shook your head. “I jokingly yell ‘go sports’ when I watch it with David.” You admitted, enjoying how he threw his head back and laughed. “And yeah, let me get that for you.” You quickly went to get his check. He made you feel both shy and comfortable. It was such an odd combination of feelings. 

He watched you as you came back, noting there was a shyness to you now. “If you’d like, I can come watch football with you and help explain things. You know, so you don’t have to ‘try’ to follow along. If he sticks this out, do you really want to be yelling ‘go sports’ while he plays in high school?” He teased. 

“Good point.” After thinking for a moment, you nodded. “Alright. Can you come over for Sunday night football tomorrow? I order us a pizza.” 

“I’d love to. How about I bring the pizza?” He offered. 

“How about I order the pizzas, and you bring soda?” After all, you were the one inviting him over. You’d pay for the more expensive part of things. 

“Fine. Fine.” He held up his hands. “Let me pay for this, then you can clock out, and I’ll walk you to your car. Get your number and address.” 

Smiling, you nodded. “I think that works for me.” 

Every Wednesday and Friday you saw Dean for practice and games. Then, every Sunday he’d come over for Sunday night football. Eventually, Monday night football was added to that. Before you knew it, it was Superbowl Sunday. Shockingly, you found yourself really looking forward to it. Even if you’d be meeting Dean’s parents. Apparently, his dad really went out for Superbowl Sunday, and wanted you and David to have the full experience. “When is Dean gonna be here?” David asked, looking at you from the couch as he played with his football. He’d been up since 6 that morning, in his jersey, waiting. 

You chuckled. “Any minute now.” You assured him moments before you heard the sound of Dean’s car. “Hear that?” 

David got up and bolted to the door. “Finally!” He pulled the door open to see Dean walking up the driveway. 

“Heya, kiddo.” He grinned. “You can get in the car, I’ll help Y/N get the food she made.” He ruffled David’s hair as he reached him. 

You watched them fondly, chuckling as David ran to Baby and got in. “He’s been waiting for you all day.” You told Dean. 

“Well, I’ve been waiting to see you all day.” He winked. “So, I had a question.” 

“Yes, I made those potato skins you like.” 

“That makes me a very happy man, but not what I was gonna ask.” He looked a bit more shy than you were used to seeing him. You tilted your head, curious, and motioned for him to go on. “We’ve been spending nearly every weekday together, and I’ve really liked that. Was kinda hoping you’d be my girlfriend?” 

That wasn’t what you were expecting, but you weren’t complaining. “I’d love that!” You beamed at him. 

“Oh, thank God. Was so worried I was misreading things.” He breathed, hand on his stomach. 

“Nope, but I had no idea you were actually interested in me.” You admitted, confusing him. “I mean, I’m playing single mom to my nephew. You could have pretty much any single woman in town. Hell, any woman in town.” 

He took your hand in his. “And yet I spend most of my spare time with you and David. I love that kid. His Aunt is pretty great, too.” He gave your hand a squeeze. “So, let’s get all that food I know you made, go enjoy Superbowl Sunday, and then plan our first real date.” 

“I think I need to thank David for insisting on playing football.” 

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

The girlies!!

Headcanons and notes under the cut

Candy!

-LOVES those shirts with the thumb holes.

-I think she's the type to wear the same kind of clothes for like 8 straight years, so her silhouette is basically the same.

-Little animal ear hoodies!

I don't have tons of ideas for Candy and Grenda, but I do think I have a good handle of the kind of teenagers they'd be. Candy is the kid who runs like 12 different fandom blogs that are super popular in hyper-niche spaces. There are at least 7 wikipedias that would collapse in on themselves without her.

Grenda!

-She and Marius got some cute clothes for each other.

-Technically dresses richer than Paz now.

Grenda is basically the exact same as she's always been, except now she wears more expensive jewelry and dresses like she just stepped off a cruise. Possibly because she did. She and Marius are actually doing great (it will not last, but they will remain good friends well into adulthood). She and Candy have also picked up FCLORPing and Grenda is the best goddamn fortress they've ever seen. Soos is greatly impressed.

Pacifica!

-Almost always in her Greasy's uniform.

-Part-times at the Mystery Shack later on (Soos and Melody are good influences)

I think that Pacifica works at Greasy's without her parents knowing, but once they find out they threaten to sue the diner because they're the worst. This leads to Pacifica spending her time at the Mystery Shack shadowing Melody and Wendy. I think Melody would be a very good person for her to be around. She's honest and to-the-point without being judgemental or callous. Soos is happy to let Pacifica just hang out and be a kid, he probably sees it as passing it forward since the Shack was such a boon in his own childhood. (Also the Northwests would never dare threaten the Shack after Weirdmageddon, it's insanely beloved by the town, going after it would be social suicide.)

You can't see it in this drawing, but I think that Paz ties her hair with a special tie that has a tiny crochet llama hanging from it. Courtesy of Mabel, of course. It literally never leaves her sight (although she'd never admit that.)

I don't think these three hang out a lot, there's a lot of painful history there, but they're definitely friendlier than before.

[stuckysimp]

I'm like 8 years too late, but oh well - I've had this Captain America Civil War rant stuck in my head for a while and I need to get it out after re-watching it. (This is gonna be long af, but bear with me).

I feel like a lot of people missed the actual point and plot of the movie (and the marketing definitely didn't help). The whole "team cap vs team iron man" stuff becomes irrelevant after like the first 20 minutes of the movie. But of course, it's still quite a big part of the movie and I'd like to take a moment to explore what I think, the different character motivations are around why they signed or didn't (or would / wouldn't).

The only reason Tony "I successfully privatised world peace" Stark signed the accords in the first place anyway is because of his massive survivors guilt complex which we see triggered by the woman who approaches him at the end of his speech to the MIT students. Like this man does not give a single shit about the government, and much like Steve Rogers, he just wants to keep people safe. Unlike Steve, however, he doesn't trust himself to do so and thinks of himself needing the be kept in check, for someone else to take the blame (though he'd probably internalise it anyway, let's be real).

Rhodey has always kind of been more on the side of the government, even if that meant going against Tony - think Iron Patriot - so it makes sense that he'd want to sign. He understands that a group as powerful and dangerous as the Avengers needs to be kept in check, but what he doesn't understand are the risks around that. In a perfect world, it would be fine, but unfortunately government systems are stupid and corrupt.

Peter was only really in the fight in the first place because he was a child blindly following this big celebrity guy he idolised. He didn't know enough about the situation to properly analyse it, just being fed and believing whatever Tony told him (and he had no reason to go against him, so why would he? This was his shot, he's been chosen by THE Tony Stark to help). "Mr Stark said you'd say that" "he said you're wrong, you think you're right, that makes you dangerous." I 100% believe that if Peter had read the accords, that he would have been on Steve's side anyway.

Vision is an embodiment of 'good' and 'peace' - essentially everything that Ultron was supposed to be, but wasn't. He has no reason to be against the accords if it will keep people safe and he makes the point during their conversation of "our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict ... breeds catastrophe. Oversight ... oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand." It's also very much the beginning kind of puppy love between him and Wanda in this movie, meaning that he will want to protect her. No matter what. Even if it means "locking her in her room."

Nat was seriously one of the only people in this movie with a brain cell lol. I firmly believe that if the accords had been properly put in place, she would have followed them until she no longer thought the government's instructions were 'right' and would have gone against them anyway. Her main goal in this movie was trying to keep the Avengers, her family, together and ultimately do the 'right' thing.

T'challa didn't give one shit about the accords lmao, he's damn king. No, he was only there in the first place to take revenge on his father's death (which at the point of the airport fight scene he still thought it was Bucky's fault. He later discovers, after following Steve and Bucky to Siberia, that it's Zemo's, and locks him up).

Steve's concerns with the accords are valid, and honestly I wouldn't have signed them either. To be told "sign, retire, or get locked up" isn't really a big winner for me lol. And the thing is, Steve's done this. He fought in WW2, he got paraded around like some big hero while men died, and he did nothing. It wasn't until he went against orders, that he actually did something helpful (saved the captured 107th division in Azzano). So, no, he's not going to be side-lined when people out there need help. That's just not who he is.

Bucky had no part in the accords, and as soon as he got introduced into the movie, that plot point became irrelevant. He was framed by Zemo, and then used to rip the avengers apart. The accords was just another log to add to the fire at that point. He followed Steve because "till the end of the line" and all that. He literally, heartbreakingly, says "I don't know if I'm worth all this," but he follows anyway.

Scott, much like Peter, is kinda just happy to be there. He's following CAPTAIN FREAKING AMERICA into battle without hesitation. But like, let's be honest, given his whole movie and character, I very much doubt Scott would be on Tony's side if he had read the accords.

Clint got dragged out of freaking retirement for this shit, and he didn't actually get involved until after Team Cap already knew about Zemo. That's why he's there. Not because of the accords, but to help Steve get to the Quinjet to get to Siberia and stop Zemo before he can go through with his assumed plan to wake up the five super soldiers who'd been stashed there. (Of course, this isn't actually Zemo's plan, but we'll get back to that later).

Wanda is going through some serious self loathing during this movie, and the incident in Lagos doesn't help. Like at all. Ma girl just wants to live her life and be left alone at this point and she's getting all of these horrible things thrown into her face by Secretary Ross. She doesn't want to be controlled, she doesn't want to be a weapon, she wants to be free. "You locked me in my room." - Girl already probably hates Tony Stark due to her family being killed by one of his bombs and Ultron, so she's mad anyway.

Sam is on Steve's side from the start. With the accords, to fight Zemo, all of it. During the 'discussion' between him and Rhodey, he says "So let's say we agree to this thing. How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?" He doesn't trust Secretary Ross, and is clearly hesitant to add his signature to the accords. (not that I blame him).

The main actual villain and 'plot' of the movie after the first part with the accords, was the whole thing with Zemo wanting to tear the Avengers apart to get revenge for his family dying in Sokovia. He takes advantage of the accords, and of Bucky / The Winter Soldier to do this but it's not really discussed which annoys me. It's a MAJOR part of the film, yet all I ever really see being discussed are the accords affecting the decisions of characters throughout the film with no consideration of the wider picture.

From when the UN meeting is blown up, the Avengers are being manipulated by Zemo working in the background throughout the film. He frames Bucky for murder, and Steve - who has been looking for Bucky for the past 2 years - goes after him like ‘tf man’. Bucky gets taken in and Zemo uses the opportunity to activate the Winter Soldier programming, learn about Hydra’s super soldier program, and of course - “Mission report. December 16, 1991.”

This leads to Bucky’s escape and attack, Steve and co going on the run, and eventually the airport fight. The meaning of this scene gets lost, I feel, when people relate it back to the accords because it’s not about that anymore. Not really, not for anyone. Especially not for Steve, or even for Tony.

Tony at this point, most definitely feels like his world is being torn apart. He’s losing control, he’s spiralling, and Steve just isn’t listening. He’s blinded by his anger to the bigger picture and he just wants to get a handle on the situation to deal with it further.

Steve’s forgotten all about the accords, his priority is keeping Bucky safe and stopping Zemo. He tries to tell Tony, tries to talk to him, but Tony isn’t listening either. I mean their whole interaction just before the fight shows this:

(the dialogue below has been condensed to show the key lines - basically I got rid of other characters talking irrelevantly)

-

Steve Rogers: Hear me out, Tony. That doctor, the psychiatrist, he's behind all of this.

Tony Stark: Anyway, Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?

Steve Rogers: You're after the wrong guy.

Tony Stark: Your judgment is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday.

Steve Rogers: And there are five more super soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can't.

- later -

Tony Stark: And you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint. 'Rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep . . . I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.

Steve Rogers: You did that when you signed.

Tony Stark: Alright, We're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us. NOW! Because it's us! Or a squad of J-SOC guys . . . with no compunction about being impolite. [Steve looks aside.] Come on.

-

Not to mention that Tony, after learning that Zemo impersonated and killed the actual doctor dude that was supposed to see Bucky whilst he was in confinement, he DISOBEYED the accords and Secretary Ross to go and help Steve stop what they thought at the time was the reactivation of the five super soldiers who'd been left in cryo freeze.

He follows Steve and Bucky to Siberia to help them, not to fight them. That only changes because of Zemo showing the footage of Bucky, WHILE UNDER BASICALLY MIND CONTROL, killing Tony’s parents.

In this scene, Tony 100% has every right to be angry. Unfortunately, he’s the kind of person who cannot see past his anger. He gets in his head, he spirals, and he tries to kill Bucky based on blind rage. (IT WASN’T BUCKY’S FAULT DAMMIT).

And yes, Steve was 100% in the wrong for not telling Tony. This whole scene could have been very easily avoided if Steve had just pulled Tony aside and had the difficult conversation about his parents death. Tony deserved to know, and Steve was only sparing himself pain by doing it. Dick move Steve, 0/10.

The fight between the three allows Zemo, having successfully completed his plan of eliminating the super soldiers and tearing the avengers apart, to slip away. With his work done, he tries to end his own life, but T’challa stops him and arrests him instead.

Steve and Tony’s fight was unnecessary, dramatic, and heart-breaking, and I’m very glad they managed to make up later, but ye. I think, at the end of the day, they’re all just dramatic idiots with communication issues lol.

-

Thank you for reading my long ass essay lmao, apparently I have a lot of feelings about this movie 😂

[https-harlow]

10 Years Later

Summary- You and Jack felt like your family was complete after four kids, but you start thinking about having a fifth baby.

You and Jack had agreed that after your fourth kid, your family was complete. Between Jack’s career and four growing kids, neither of you felt the need to add anything more to your already busy life. 

Of course, as you and Jack got older and your kids got older, Jack’s career started to settle down, with less time spent in studios and on the road and more time spent at home with family. You both still felt that your family was complete.

Over the past few years, several of your friends have gotten married and started to have kids. Since you and Jack had gotten married and had Paisley at 19, you both were enjoying having your friends be in the same stage of life that you were in. It was fun to watch your friends experience the same things that you and Jack had previously experienced.

Out of all of your friends, it was different when Urban got married and had his first baby with his wife. You were happy for everyone, but you knew how much Urban loved your kids practically as if they were his own, so you knew he was ecstatic to have a child of his own.

In high school, you, Jack, and Urban talked about raising your kids together and having similar-aged children. It didn’t work out that way, your oldest being almost 16 and your youngest being almost 8, and if there were one thing you regretted it would be that.

As you watched Urban and his wife experience pregnancy for the first time, you couldn’t help but have a few thoughts about having one more baby. 

Ever since Urban’s wife Lauren had given birth to their baby girl Rylee, you and Jack would often stop by during the day while your kids were at school and today was no different. 

You, Jack, Urban, and Lauren, were all sitting in their living room. Rylee was lying on Jack’s chest asleep.

“I don’t know how he does that, she was so fussy before Jack started holding her,” Lauren said.

“After having four kids with him, I don’t understand it either. Olive was probably our toughest baby, but I swear, Jack would just pick her up and she’d instantly stop crying.”

“I’m going to need Jack to move in for the next year then,” Lauren joked.

“I’ll send him over next time he’s annoying me,” You joked as you leaned over towards Jack, resting your head on his shoulder as you laid your hand on Rylee’s back.

“I can’t believe how big our kids have gotten. It’s hard to believe that they were all this small,” Jack said.

“I was just thinking about that at Georgia’s school play. I met her when she was six months old, it’s so crazy to think that was seven and a half years ago,” Lauren said.

“Like, the little girl you brought home to our old apartment at 19 is learning to drive. It felt like that would never happen.”

“I don’t even want to think about it,” You said, laughing softly. Jack carefully handed Rylee to you so he could get up to get a drink. Rylee fussed for a minute before relaxing again. “Literally anytime you need a babysitter, I swear I’ll drop whatever I’m doing to come watch Rylee.”

“I don’t know how you and Jack raised your kids while on tour and traveling all the time, it was hard enough just being pregnant, I can’t imagine doing it pregnant and having other kids,” Lauren said. 

“We were 19 and a little delusional, plus we had a lot of help. There’s no way we could have done it without everyone helping the way they did.”

“Do you miss having a baby?” Urban asked and you thought for a second.

“Yeah, I do,” You said, looking down at Rylee and rubbing her back softly. “Especially with everything slowing down. Raising kids on the road was fun, but I think it would have also been nice to experience having a baby without all of that.”

“You could always have one more baby,” Urban teased as Jack walked back into the room.

“I’ve thought about it,” You admitted, “But not seriously.”

“I’m down to get you pregnant again,” Jack said.

“Here we were having a sweet conversation and you just came in and ruined it with your dirty comments,” Urban teased.

It was a week later until you and Jack came back to your conversation with Urban and Lauren. All the kids were in bed except for Paisley who was having a sleepover with her friend downstairs so you let them stay up later than normal. You and Jack had already gotten ready for bed.

“Did you mean it when you said you’ve thought about having another baby?” Jack asked as he sat down next to you on the small couch you had in your bedroom.

“Yeah, I mean, I’m happy with four kids, and I don’t regret not having another, I still think our family feels complete. But sometimes I do think about what if we had a fifth baby,” You said. “Do you ever think about it?” You asked.

“I’ve thought about it, with the kids getting older, and all of our friends having kids,” Jack admitted.

“Would it be crazy to start over though? To have a baby while we also have a 16-year-old.”

“If we can raise four kids while traveling constantly, I think we can handle one baby and a couple of teenagers or almost teenagers at the same time while traveling a whole lot less.”

“You have a point,” You laughed softly.

“Do you want a fifth baby?” Jack asked and you nodded.

“The more I think about having another baby, the more I do want one more, and I’ve actually been thinking about it a lot since talking with Urban and Lauren,” You said, taking Jack’s hand and tracing random patterns on it with your finger.

“I’ve been thinking about it and I do too,” Jack said. “What if, we just see what happens? We don’t have to try, but if we’re meant to have a fifth baby, then it will happen.”

“I like that plan,” You agreed, “If it’s meant to be, it will happen.” 

“I really hope it’s meant to be,” Jack said.

“Me too,” You said, smiling softly at Jack.

Tag list @jackharloww @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @hoodharlow @itsyagirljaz @heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @awhore4moree @harlowslefttoe @twerkforambrose @jackmans-poison @ilovenudy @taniapri @killatravtramp @easternparkway @macey234 @toocriticalharlow @lightsoutstyles @rachxc13 @iknowdatsrightbih @idktbh101 @blossomluvv @middlechild404 @hufflewhore128

[tremblingmuse]

Omg you're a godsend I love your stories so damn much. Could I request “You’re lucky you’re cute.” “Thanks! Wait…” and/or “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you’re flirting with me.” “I am.” “Excuse me?”

With Nico? Or wally

Thank youuuu!!

I’m killing two birds with one stone for this one!

Thanks everyone for being so patient! I took a little break. It’s the start of summer blues.

Prompt 8 for Wally Clark

“Well, I do.”

Y/n has known Wally for years. When you’ve been stuck at the same high school for a few decades you tend to become friends.

Sometimes you know each other so well, the friendly conversations can turn into flirty banter.

The gang was having their monthly round of hide and seek. Rhonda was seeking, she loved chanting “Come out, come out. Where ever you are…” in a creepy tone down the vacant halls.

Y/n found the perfect spot, a small crawl space in the back of the art room. Wally just had to follow her.

“No get out of here!” Y/n whispered, trying to shoo him.

“You don’t just get to claim spots, we can share!” He told her, scooting into the small space with her. He covered it up with a piece of board that was over it before.

“Just because I’m the reigning champion does not mean you can freeload off of me.”

It was true. She was unfindable. She always spent all month preparing different spots. A few she can run from and then too, just in case.

Wally always tried his best but he was always found first.

“But you’re so selfless, and kind. I was hoping you’d be willing to make an acceptation for your dear friend.” He loaded on complements.

“Awe, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.” She told him in a sarcastic tone while rolling her eyes.

“I am.”

She looked at him, well tried to. It was dark and she couldn’t make out his face well. But it didn’t seem like he was joking.

Her breathe hitched. It was stuck in her throat.

“What?” She whispered, questioning if she heard him right.

Because if he said what she thinks he said, that would be absolutely ridiculous.

They both froze when they heard Rhonda’s taunting voice. She opened the door and stepped in the room.

Y/n covered Wally’s mouth. She’d deal with him later, she’s not loosing because of him.

Her heart raced as heat radiated off him in the small space. Also because Rhonda’s footsteps made their way to the counter. Where they were hiding.

After what felt like hours of waiting for the worst. It sounded like she left. Her voice trailed down the halls as she sang and teased her next victim.

If Y/n was a master hider, Rhonda was the perfect horror movie villain she was hiding from.

She slowly removed her hand, Wally swallowed hard.

“Did you say you were flirting with me?” She asked, hushed.

He didn’t skip a beat.

“Yeah, did you not know?” He asked as if it was the most obvious think in the world. “I have been, for like ever.”

She relaxed back to her original position. Contemplating.

He had been flirting with her? For how long?

“No, I didn’t know.” She quipped, crossing her arms.

Wally let out a small laugh. He corrected it immediately.

“Sorry, it’s just- I thought you...” He cleared his throat.

“I thought you liked me? No way.” She interrupted.

Wally tilted his head. Of course he liked her. He has since she’s been stuck in this horrible purgatory with him.

“Well I do.” He stated. “And now this in awkward.”

He shifted in place, trying to find something other than her face to occupy his mind.

“Why?” She asked, filling the painful silence.

It wasn’t hard for him to answer.

“Cause, you organize all these games. You make being dead kinda fun. I’ve been a lot less miserable since you came around.”

She paused, trying to find a response that didn’t make her sound uninterested or desperate. She settled on a simple explanation.

“Well it’s the least I can do, you guys have helped me a lot. I wasn’t always like this.” She told him.

“I know.”

Her head jerked to look at him, in question. She was a little disturbed. “Okay, stalker.”

“Wait no-“

“First you follow me to a small dark room, then tell me you know what I was like before I died. Sounds stalkerish to me.” She laughed.

Of course she was joking, she knew most of the living kids by names. Knew their schedules and lives. She wanted what was best for them, she was pretty protective over the kids at school. She hoped Wally felt the same when she was living.

“It’s just… I always kinda saw you.” He looked at her with those eyes again. The eyes that wanted something from her.

“Well what do you want? This is flattering but I’m not sure what it means.” She admitted not so gracefully.

“Well I’d love to kiss you, but you have your game face on.”

He’s right. She took these games very seriously.

“Meet me when I win this thing. Now out.” She pointed to the board between them and the classroom.

His eyes told her. “Come on.”

“Go on, out. Plenty of time for flirting when I’m victorious. You’re bad luck.”

“Fine.”

“And don’t rat me out! You’ll pay…”

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 8

Part 7 / AO3 Link

Eddie didn’t know how he’d gotten so lucky. Not only was he dating the most beautiful man, but he had a pretty cool kid too. Anytime a child asked if he had a favorite student, Eddie of course said no. But if he haaaad to pick. Well, Shawn answered his questions regularly, didn’t get into arguments with the other kids, and could be pretty damn funny. 

Let’s just say that Eddie would think twice about dating a different student’s parent. 

He had no such reservations here. Both Steve and Shawn were wonderful and Eddie loved getting to see them together on the weekends. He and Steve had basically agreed that weekdays would be dedicated to work for now so that Saturday and Sunday could go with no interruptions.

On weekends when they couldn’t meet, there was the magic of texting and sometimes even video calls. Eddie couldn’t get enough of Steve and the feeling was mutual. More than once, they had stayed up late, getting each other hot over the phone.

Steve hadn’t felt this desired in years, or this horny. He wanted Eddie so badly, but… Well, Steve had no problem sending Shawn out for a sleepover if he wanted some alone time with Eddie. It was just, well, there would definitely be a lingering smell. Steve had pressed his nose against Eddie’s neck enough times to know he loved the way he smelled. Even so, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to be completely surrounded by the scent of an alpha.

There was also the fact that eventually their scents would cling to each other and that would make the tongues of parents and faculty wag like crazy.

The good moments with Billy had been tainted beyond repair. And as silly as it sounded, he wanted his first time going all the way with Eddie to be special. He didn’t want to think of Billy at all, not for one moment.

“Steve, you’re a grown ass man”, Robin said. “Just do the do.”

“Whatever happened to romance?”, Steve asked while looking up nice restaurants.

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

Eddie was ready for the day to be over. Two and a half meltdowns, one kid pushed another, which of course, caused an argument, at least of them had been accused of cursing, and they didn’t even get to the social studies lesson he had planned. 

It boggled his mind how throughout the day he’d be told ‘Mr. Munson, I wanna go hooooome’ but when it came time to pack up they moved like molasses. Back when he was a student, he moved like the wind when dismissal came, but maybe that was just him. He walked the kids outside where they either met their parents, a bus, or an aftercare provider.

Eddie lit like a candle when he saw Steve walking up and nearly reached out to hug him, but quickly brought his arms back to his side and hoped no one noticed.

“Good day today?”, Steve asked both him and Shawn.

“Yeah, but not for Mr. Munson”, Shawn answered for both of them while hugging Steve’s leg. “He had to correct a lot of people.”

Steve smiled while patting his pup’s head, wishing he could reach out to comfort Eddie. “Talk later?”, he asked.

“Please”, Eddie sighed. 

With a nod, Steve left with Shawn, allowing Eddie to finish dismissal with the rest of his students. When Eddie finished, he immediately called Steve up while gathering his things to head home.

“Shawn gave me quite the run down”, Steve said the moment he picked up. “Is it normal for first graders to use profanity?”

“Only the ones whose parents use it in front of them. You can usually tell who do it often enough for it to rub off on their kids.” 

Eddie walked out of the school and switched from his phone to bluetooth so that he could keep talking while he drove. And during that drive, he gave Steve his side of the day, all the nitty-gritty details. By the end of it, he definitely felt like a weight had been lifted. Talking to Steve tended to have that effect.

“Alright, enough about my day. Tell me how your day with the Puberty Patrol went.”

Steve laughed. “They’d absolutely lose it if they heard you call them that. And today went by fine. But I’m getting the sneaking suspicion of some changing dynamics.”

“Oh…as in…?”

“Yeah”, Steve said. One of his students had presented that past weekend. “You can always tell because the more self conscious ones will blast their bodies with Axe body spray.”

“Ah, an alpha”, Eddie correctly surmised. “Wait, the kids are still using Axe? Would’ve thought they’d move on to like, I don’t know, whatever their favorite influencer is touting. Anyway, enough about the little ones, you free next Saturday?”

Steve checked his calendar before answering. “I am. You planning something?”

“Yeah. Get a babysitter for Shawn.”

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

Saturday night came and Steve dressed for the occasion. Eddie had invited him to a gig to see him play. It would be his first time doing so for a non-school function. Steve didn’t have a ton of clothes that would fit in with a club venue nowadays (a side effect of becoming a parent and a teacher) but he had a couple of pieces that would let him slide. 

He wore his darkest jeans, which were a navy blue and a leather jacket on top of that. He had a t-shirt from an old band under the jacket. Beneath everything was a black thong that Eddie was most definitely seeing tonight even if Steve had to reserve a spontaneous hotel room.

They agreed to meet at the venue, since Eddie had to arrive early for sound check and all that. When Steve got to the bar, he smiled, seeing the instruments already set up. 

“Baby!”, a voice shouted over the crowd and then Steve was pulled to Eddie. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“You’re one to talk”, Steve said. Eddie’s outfit wasn’t too different from his usual casual wear. But today his hair was in a half up style and he had this eyeliner on that made Steve want to gaze at him all night. Good thing he’d be able to do just that.

There was time for Eddie to introduce him to the rest of the band. All great guys who had jobs Steve never would have imagined. Nurse in training, engineer, and a secretary. They all seemed like nice guys and Steve enjoyed talking with them while they waited for showtime. When it came, Eddie kissed both of Steve’s knuckles, then his lips.

“I’m gonna be looking for you out in the audience”, he promised.

“I’ll be here”, Steve promised back. 

Now, see, Steve never considered himself a fan of metal. He liked the hard guitar riffs and intense drum beats just fine. He simply never got into it enough to pick out any song or artist. And that probably wouldn’t change. But Eddie.

Eddie.

He looked downright electric playing on stage. Like sparks were coming from his fingers and setting all his nerves on fire. Forget the hotel room, Steve was ready to have him in one of these bathrooms. There was a twinge of shame, reminding him that he was too old for that, but the greater part of him didn’t care. Just wanted Eddie anyway that he could have him.

At the end of their performance, Steve got to Eddie the moment he was off stage, cutting off anyone who thought they might have a chance to meet his eye. Steve’s hands buried in his hair as he kissed him.

“That was incredible. Do your friends need you right now?”

“Uh, no, no they don’t”, Eddie replied, a little dazed from the kiss.

“Good. Because I need you now.”

Eddie had just enough time to shoot his friends a look that he tried to put all the meaning into as Steve dragged him off. They got outside and he got his head in the game, pressing Steve against one of the walls and sucking a mark onto his neck. 

“You that desperate for me?”, he growled into his ear.

“Yes”, Steve whined, having no need or even way to deny it when Eddie could already smell it on him in the fresh air of the night.

Eddie’s hands went to cup his ass and Steve felt a thrill go through him when the alpha dipped his thumbs into the waistband of his pants. When Eddie froze, Steve knew he’d been caught. Then Eddie dug his hands right inside, making Steve gasp and cling to him.

“Stevie, Stevie, baby, love”, Eddie chanted against his neck while kneading his ass and pressing their hips together.

“Take me home, alpha.”

Part 9 coming soon

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog @hippieg1rl420 @spectrum-spectre

[steddieas-shegoes]

Nother idea: 8 years later, Tommy & Carol apologizing to Steve for their behavior. & for immediately abandoning him when they knew he needed them most.

But Steve has people now who have shown him love, family, true friendship. And while he forgives them its not the same. He doesn't trust them. He is thriving without them.

But Carol realizes that the reason it isn't the same is bc Steve genuinely believes that they don't mean their apology. So she & Tommy actually discuss it and find a way to clear up any misunderstanding & ensure he knows they mean their apology. It works, it takes time & effort but they are once again his friends.

MY LOVE!!! STEVE REALIZING HE'S LOVED AND DOESN'T NEED HIS SHITTY EX FRIENDS CREW STAND UP!!!! I had the opportunity to really give Steve his shining moment and yell at them, but I decided that Steve would just be kind of over it, like they aren't really worth yelling at. Steve didn't do all this personal growth just to let them back in so easily, but luckily he isn't the only one who changed. You know I had to involve Eddie, of course! - Mickala ❤️

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

It was too fucking early on a Saturday morning to be woken up by the buzzer of his apartment.

Whoever it was was lucky that Eddie had to go into work today or he would be committing murder at their door.

He glanced at the clock on the microwave, 10:47, okay, so not that early.

They’d had a late night, okay?

If he had a limp to show what they were up to, that was his business.

“You can leave the package in the box, I’ll grab it soon!” Steve said into the mic, hoping it was just a delivery.

“Steve? Is that you?”

He recognized the voice, though he wished he didn’t.

Eight years was a long time to go without talking to someone who used to be your best friend, but when you’d been best friends for so long, certain things couldn’t be forgotten.

“Tommy?”

“Uh yeah, man. I’m here with Carol. We actually were hoping to talk to you?”

He looked down at his almost naked body, only Eddie’s boxers covering him.

“Sure.”

He buzzed them in, not giving them any clue where he was so they would take their time getting to his door. He had to throw on clothes, brush his hair, and try to look like he hadn’t just been asleep.

He rushed to the bedroom, throwing on the first pair of jeans he saw and a t-shirt from the floor. He heard voices down the hall as he was heading to the bathroom, his hands shaking with nerves as he tried to rush to brush through his hair.

“It can’t be that Munson, though, right? Even Steve wasn’t a fan of him in school.”

Steve grimaced at Carol’s voice.

Technically, Eddie worked a half shift when he had to work Saturdays, which meant unless they were only stopping by for a few minutes, he would probably be home while they were still here.

Tommy had always hated Eddie. No one could really figure out why. Sure, a lot of people said nasty things about and to Eddie in high school, but no one else really put their hands on him the way Tommy did.

Eddie joked it must have been because he liked him, but Steve thought maybe he just had a lot of displaced anger.

At least that’s what he thought when he became a counselor and understood a lot of psychology behind why people did things.

Eddie laughed and said, “don’t overthink it, some people are just bullies.”

But Steve liked to think maybe Tommy was more complicated than that, liked to explain away his worst qualities so it made it easier to accept that he was once best friends with him.

Eddie laughed about that too, and said, “kids are stupid, and sometimes we find friends in people who make us feel better about ourselves, but you grew up.”

Steve shook his head, not wanting to think more about it.

He opened the front door, the ghosts of his past standing there, hardly aged, hardly any different at all.

“Come in, guys. Um. Sorry, I wasn’t really expecting anyone.”

They all awkwardly laughed as Tommy and Carol made their way inside.

The apartment was small, cheap rent kept them there so they could save up to buy a house outside of town in the next few years, maybe work on starting a family if they could.

They’d talked about it over the last couple of years, once Steve was settled in his job at the school, once Eddie got promoted to general manager at the shop, they’d save for a few years, have a decent down payment, start looking for a house with three or four bedrooms. Start looking into adopting. Maybe get a cat.

But to do that, their apartment was cozy, as Eddie liked to say. One bedroom, one bathroom, kitchen and living room area all one room, a tiny storage closet. They didn’t even have their own washer and dryer, which reminded Steve that he had to take their laundry downstairs and get it started soon.

Tommy and Carol looked around, but hid any emotion on their faces.

He gestured for them to have a seat on the couch, which was a hand-me-down from Wayne when they moved in. It was “too much” for his space when Eddie moved out.

They sat, though they didn’t look very comfortable.

Steve sat in the rocking chair Eddie bought, the first thing he bought for their “eventual home”, but didn’t rock as he took them in.

He originally didn’t see any proof of them aging, but now that he was looking closer, he could see Tommy’s already-receding hairline, Carol’s wrinkled by her eyes, both of them just a little softer in the face and stomach.

They looked incredibly human like this, like they weren’t some high school king and queen who only cared about how they look and what parties they could go to every weekend.

It helped Steve relax a bit.

“Not to be rude, but uh, how did you guys find me?” Steve asked, not sure he even really cared.

“We moved here to Chicago about six months ago, Tommy’s gonna run his dad’s office here starting next year, so he wanted to ease into it. I started job searching a few weeks ago for a teaching position and I noticed you worked at the school I interviewed at. We looked you up and decided we wanted to come talk,” Carol always was a bit of a rambler, always annoyed Steve when she started in on something that really didn’t matter much.

Carol nudged Tommy, who had been staring wide-eyed at Steve since he sat down.

He cleared his throat and nodded.

“We actually came here to make things right. We were best friends for years, and then one bad thing happened and we weren’t anymore. I know I fucked up with everything. We shouldn’t have treated Nancy like that, or you like that, and we’re hoping you could maybe accept our apology.”

Steve stared at them.

“We were kids. We did stupid shit. We’ve all grown. I mean, look at you! Your own apartment in the big city!”

As if he had been waiting for a cue, Eddie walked in the front door, his oil-covered coveralls already coming off. Steve made the rule after he came home one day to see oil stains on the bed sheets where Eddie had fallen asleep after working from open to close: coveralls come off as soon as he’s in the door and they go straight to the laundry room.

“Jesus, sweetheart, this is the last Saturday I cover in the shop. At least until I hire some competent mechanics. I think I did most of the work all morning. And after doing most of the work last night, I-”

“Eds! We have company!” Steve rushed out, his face bright red at what Eddie was implying.

It’s not that he really cared about what Tommy and Carol thought; Once they realized Eddie lived here, it wouldn’t be difficult to come to the conclusion that they shared a one bedroom apartment because they were together. He didn’t even care if Tommy and Carol were disgusted by him for it.

But he’d be damned if Eddie felt uncomfortable in his own home, especially if they started saying shit to him reminiscent of their high school days.

He watched Eddie turn around, recognize the people on the couch, and turn to Steve with a questioning look.

“Tommy, Carol, you remember Eddie,” Steve said, not breaking eye contact with Eddie.

They were having an entire conversation with their eyes, Steve begging Eddie to just go get cleaned up, Eddie begging Steve to explain what was going on.

Tommy’s eyes narrowed as he looked between them, Carol’s eyes stayed pointed at Eddie.

“Munson?”

“The one and only!” Eddie said, his voice pitching just a bit higher, naturally going to his over the top self to protect himself from whatever they would say.

Steve loved every version of Eddie: the performer on stage, the performer with friends, the soft version of himself that only Steve got to see, the protective version that would fight the world to make sure his loved ones were safe.

He was lucky to have every part of Eddie, even the parts that may not always be the best.

But his least favorite thing was seeing Eddie go into this mode, the one that kept him safe during school, when kids were mean, adults were mean, life was hard.

He didn’t want that for Eddie anymore.

“You guys…live together?” Tommy asked, looking back to Steve for confirmation.

Steve rolled his eyes. Tommy apparently didn’t gain any intelligence over the years.

“Yes. We’re together.”

From the look on Eddie’s face, he hadn’t expected Steve to say that.

That was fair; it took Steve nearly a year just to come out to anyone who wasn’t Robin, scared that somehow everyone would hate him, hate Eddie, hate them together.

But it went perfectly, and Steve rode the high a bit too much. He came out to his parents a few months after, and that went quite a lot less than perfectly.

He was lucky he didn’t have more head trauma from it, actually.

So he kept it quiet, didn’t come out to any new friends he met in college, even after one of them came out to him. Didn’t come out to coworkers while he worked at a cafe throughout college to pay the bills. Didn’t even come out to the bartender at their favorite bar despite the rainbow flag that was hidden behind the bar in silent support.

It was only recently that he started to feel comfortable being more open, and only in the city, only select areas where he knew they wouldn’t end up hurt.

Eddie was patient, maybe more than he deserved.

So saying it outright to the two people who suspected and bullied Eddie for being gay in high school, despite it not even being confirmed then, clearly threw Eddie for a loop.

“Oh, like…”

“Yes, exactly like that.”

Steve crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for any response that would give him permission to kick them out of his apartment, their apartment.

But he saw Carol nudge Tommy again, pasting a smile on her face. It wasn’t completely natural, but it also didn’t seem fake.

“That’s nice, Steve. Have you been together a while?”

“Since ‘86.”

“Wow! Since the quakes!”

Steve nodded.

“Steve, can you help me with something in the kitchen for a second?” Eddie asked, his voice unreadable.

Steve hated it, hated that all of a sudden he couldn’t get a grasp of what Eddie was feeling.

It had been so long since he’d experienced this.

And a small part of him blamed Tommy and Carol.

He got up, wordlessly following Eddie into the kitchen area that wasn’t even separated from the living room.

“Not that I don’t love that you’re comfortable telling them, but um. What’s. What’s happening currently?” Eddie whispered as he tried to appear busy, grabbing a glass from the cabinet to fill with water.

“They came to apologize to me. For high school.”

When he said it out loud, it sounded a bit ridiculous.

“And are you accepting it?”

“I don’t think so. I think they’re only doing it to help themselves feel better. I’m not interested in whatever game they’re playing.”

Eddie looked over Steve’s shoulder at the pair sitting on the couch.

“Need me to get rid of them? Just say so, sweetheart. I’ll kick them both to the curb.”

Steve leaned in and kissed him quickly on the lips, smiling as he pulled away.

“I got it, baby. Get cleaned up so I can hug you.”

“Just hug?”

Steve laughed as he walked back towards his spot.

“Or more!”

He focused back on Tommy and Carol, who were graciously pretending that they didn’t hear the conversation that happened less than 20 feet from them.

“So, we were wondering if you wanted to meet up for dinner, catch up? You could bring Eddie, of course!”

Of course, she said. Like they didn’t outwardly despise Eddie eight years ago. Like they were perfectly fine with him now, and fine with Steve, and fine with them.

“I think we’ll pass. Good luck to you guys in Chicago, though.”

He ignored the pang of guilt when he saw Carol’s face fall and Tommy’s eyes darted to where Eddie was closing the bedroom door and back to Steve.

“Oh. Um. Well, it would be our treat, if you’re worried about money.”

“I wasn’t.”

Tommy and Carol hadn’t expected to be shut down like this, but Steve knew he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t accept their apologies, and he wouldn’t expect Eddie to suddenly be friendly to people who tormented him for years.

“Okay. Well. I guess we’ll go, then.”

“Thanks for stopping by.”

He stood as they stood, walked them out the door, then closed and locked it behind them.

Steve made it to the bedroom before he felt the tears spring to his eyes.

Eddie was in the bathroom showering, so he hoped he could get it out quickly. He didn’t want Eddie to worry.

But unfortunately, once a few tears fell, it seemed like they wouldn’t stop.

He got back in bed, burying his face in the pillow so he could hopefully pretend to be asleep, but didn’t quite manage it before Eddie was walking back into the room.

He got in bed and silently pulled Steve against his chest, running his hands up and down his back to soothe him, not trying to use any comforting words.

“I don’t know why I’m upset about a stupid fake apology from people I don’t care about.”

“Stevie, it’s okay to be upset. They were your friends for a long time, and you still have a lot of hurt leftover from them.”

“I just wish things had been different then.”

“I know, sweetheart.”

Eddie kissed the top of his head, and as they lay there together, Steve realized this hurt would never quite go away.

—------------------

“T, I don’t think he believed us,” Carol said from the passenger seat.

“I can’t believe Steve’s with Eddie. Of all the people,” Tommy replied, not even acknowledging Carol’s words.

“They seem good together.”

“I guess.”

Carol knew Tommy had a crush on Steve in high school, they’d talked about it years ago when she found an old picture of Steve with a heart drawn on the back while they were moving the first time around.

She’d been caught off guard, but understood, and was fine with it when he explained it was definitely in the past.

And it was.

But a part of him was wondering how long Steve had realized he liked guys, and what might have happened if he’d just been brave enough to do something about his feelings before things went to shit.

He loved Carol, was happy to be married to her, and wouldn’t want Steve now, but still. The what-ifs plagued his mind on the drive back to their home.

“Are you jealous of Eddie?”

Carol sounded hesitant to ask, like she wasn’t sure which answer she would prefer because she knew either way, Tommy would be upset she asked at all.

“No. I’m not jealous. Steve and I would never have worked out.”

Which may not have been a great answer for his wife, but it was the truth, and they were always honest with each other if nothing else.

“Since I got the job at the school, maybe I’ll have more chances to convince him we meant it.”

Carol was good. Deep down she had always been good. But Tommy always managed to drag her down when they were young, convinced her she needed to be a mean girl to fit in with their group, kept it up through most of college before they finally realized life was better if you just weren’t awful to people.

“Yeah, maybe.”

—---------------------

So, a month later, when school started up, Carol began the task of showing Steve that they were truly sorry.

She would often leave notes in his mailbox in the office, usually just a “have a great day!” with a smiley face, or “let me know if you want to catch up over lunch!”

He never responded, but she knew he got them.

Tommy had issues with his car and took it to the shop Eddie worked at, nodding along to what he said and admitted he didn’t really know much about cars so he trusted Eddie to fix it.

It was entirely professional, but a small part of Tommy was satisfied when Eddie gave him a genuine smile.

—--------------------------

“Is it weird that they keep trying?” Steve asked one night while they were lying in bed.

“I don’t think it’s weird. I think maybe they just mean it.”

Steve pondered it.

Yeah, they must mean it. The old Tommy and Carol would have given up after he sent them out of their apartment the first time.

“Would you wanna go to dinner with them? Just give them a chance? It’s okay if you don’t want to. You don’t have to forgive them.”

Eddie leaned in to kiss Steve’s slowly, softly.

“If you want to, then I want to support you. We’re all different now. Maybe we can look at who they are now instead of who they were, as long as they can look at who we are and respect us.”

“Yeah.” Steve kissed Eddie’s cheek. “Yeah.”

—-------------------

Steve left a note for Carol the following Monday: “Dinner at ours? Friday at 7. Bring a red wine and beer.”

She wrote back that same day with a bunch of smiley faces and a response that they would be there.

When Friday came, Steve was nervous.

He’d planned to leave work right when school got out instead of leaving at five so he could make sure everything was clean and the food would be ready on time.

Eddie promised to be home by six in case he needed help.

And when six arrived, Eddie walked through the door with flowers and a smile, and Steve relaxed.

Nothing would go wrong.

Even if something did, they would be in it together, and they would support each other.

They didn’t have to do this alone like they did all those years ago.

—-------------------

It became a thing: dinner every Friday evening, sometimes at Steve and Eddie’s, sometimes at Tommy and Carol’s, sometimes at a new restaurant in the city.

The first few dinners were stilted, full of apologies and awkward catch-ups.

Then it got easier.

They got closer.

Eddie and Tommy actually became closer than Steve and Tommy ever were. Eddie showed him how to change his own oil so he could “stop bothering him at work just so he could look at his sexy coveralls.” Tommy rolled his eyes, but was grateful to learn.

Carol and Steve would often bake dessert together, catching up on school gossip, the latest who was dating who always entertaining them just as it did when they were in high school.

There were still the occasional moments where Steve thought about how much they hurt him, and Eddie thought about how they might be teasing him behind his back.

But it was rare, and they usually talked themselves out of it.

They were the first people to find out when Carol was pregnant, and the first people to learn it was twins. Carol and Tommy were the first (okay, first after Robin) people to find out when their offer on a house was accepted.

Tommy ended up cutting ties with his father when he found out that Steve and Eddie were together and threatened to cut him off. Tommy had a degree, and now had years of experience under his belt, and wasn’t worried about finding another job, one where he knew he earned his position because of his work and not being the boss’ son.

And when Steve and Eddie were able to finally adopt a little girl in 2002, Tommy and Carol were at the courthouse taking pictures of the new family, their own kids already best friends with her.

[remember-digimon]

Good ol' reliable Joe!

When I first watched Digimon back in the 2000s, Joe was the character I related to the least. Now, as a big grown up in my late 30s, I finally understand what Joe is all about.

At first glance, Joe is anxiety incarnate. In the dub, he gets the 'nerd' trope that Izzy avoided for the most part. Joe is always allergic to things, worried about the slightest danger, and constantly trying to be the voice of reason. His 'voice of reason' however is more 'voice of general complaints and worry.'

If I recall correctly, in the original Japanese, Joe is like this because he's the oldest, at 12 years old. He feels it's his responsibility to make sure everyone is safe since he's the upperclassmen in this situation. In the dub, he's just a worrywort.

Joe takes on responsibility that he could easily delegate to other kids. In the episode where Gomamon evolves into Ikkakumon, Joe tries to break up an argument between Tai and Matt about climbing a mountain, only managing to get drawn into the argument himself. Later, he decides that he should climb up the mountain on his own as a compromise. He doesn't even bring Gomamon with him; Gomamon tags along anyway, of course, but initially Joe intended to go by himself.

He shows initiative, that's for sure. At least when the pressure is on. Others have noted that Tai, Sora, and Joe are the action-takers while Matt and Izzy act more defensively with Mimi, Tk, and later, Kari in mind. I like this thought, especially for Joe. He is often stumbling into danger out of his need to be the 'adult' of the group, feeling responsible for everyone's safety.

One thing we should discuss is his crest. I want to go more in depth on the crests on a different post, but here I think we need to talk about Joe's crest being changed for the dub. Originally it was the crest of faith.

Honestly, I do think reliability fits Joe a lot better. It is awkward for that to be a trait of a child (Remember, their crests were developed back during the original Digimon Adventure OVA, when Greymon fights Parrotmon). But I do think he exemplifies being reliable, because it's the right thing to do.

Conversely, Joe doesn't really expect others to help him. He wants to be relied on, but doesn't want to rely on others. He saves TK from drowning in the bay without thinking of his own safety.

Joe is also the studious member of the group. At one point, while they're temporarily back in Odaiba, Joe takes a practice test and fails it. This causes him a lot of anxiety. It feeds into the situation at home, which is another point I'll get into shortly.

In Our War Game, Joe is unreachable because he's taking an entrance exam. He's in a panic the whole time, showing how important it is that he does well. No doubt he's one of those cram school kids.

As for his family, we do meet his older brother Jim, but not his parents. In fact, Joe's parents are the only ones we don't meet out of the original 8. We do hear a lot about his dad, though, who has high expectations of his sons. Mr Kido wants both of his sons to be doctors like him, and on his terms, too. Jim says he wants to go to less developed countries to practice medicine, and that their father doesn't approve.

Jim also doesn't seem to have much faith in Joe becoming a doctor due to his high anxiety, and the fact that he faints at the sight of blood. Joe seems apprehensive about it himself, even though he does eventually go into med school and become a doctor.

To me, Joe's story is one of perseverance. When he's working off his debt in the diner, he fully expects to work there until it's paid off and is genuinely surprised that Matt would offer to help. When his test scores fall, he resolves to work harder. Even though he doesn't like the idea much at first he does eventually become a doctor. I can see how the original script would give him the crest of faith with all that in mind, but I still think reliability fits him better. He doesn't just have faith that things will work out, he's proactive in making sure they work out. Even if he's a little clumsy about it.