#she just had to process that all in one go huh

[godmadeaterribleerror]

It Was Smiling Down - A No Love Lost Bonus Chapter

Series Masterlist

Read on A03!

Author's Note: Ryan Butcher I'd die for you. If Eric Kripke EVER does you dirty he will have to answer to me personally. Title from San Francisco by the Mowgli's.

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary/Warnings: A Ryan pov Chapter! Takes place between Chapter 26 and Chapter 27. Usual warnings.

Tags: Soldier Boy/Supe!Female Reader, canon divergence, tooth-rotting fluff, slightly angst, pre-established relationship

Ryan Butcher doesn’t really trust people. As a whole, they haven’t proven themselves to be that trustworthy. They mostly lie to him, or hurt him, or yell at him things that haunt him when he can’t sleep. Things about how he hurts people, when he doesn’t mean to. 

He never means to hurt anyone. It makes him feel heavy and sad and sick, and then the sizzle of flesh or crunch of bones has to be added to his nightmares, along with all the other faces that he did something bad to. Mom said hurting people was bad, and that we should treat others with kindness.

Dad said it didn’t matter. Dad said that people were like toys for them—the stronger, the better, the gods—to play with. That if Ryan broke one or two spines, or smashed four or five people into buildings, or punched a dozen people’s faces into their bodies, it didn’t really matter. The toy box was infinite, so they’d find a replacement. Dad said that humans couldn’t stop reproducing like cockroaches, so killing a few, or a lot, was if anything a favor to the universe.

Ryan had told Her that once. Not what his Dad had said—the mention of Dad always made Her face look sad, and Ben’s face look angry—but that cockroaches reproduced a lot. She’d been visiting him and Ben during training—all of them sitting on the floor, Ryan cross legged and Her leaning against Ben’s body—and Ryan had said it for a reason he couldn’t now remember.

She’d paused, frowning at her sandwich, then looked up at Ryan with a soft, curious gaze. “Do they? I mean, all bugs reproduce quickly for survival purposes, but I don’t think cockroaches are that remarkable at it.”

“I, I don’t know.” Ryan had mumbled, his eyes dropping to the mat. He didn’t want Her to be disappointed in him, even if she’d never been before. “I just heard it somewhere, I guess.”

“Huh.” She’d shrugged, reaching over Ben’s body to grab one of his fries that he always told Ryan tasted like fucking Styrofoam, but still brought every time she ate lunch with them. “Maybe I’m wrong-“

“No.” Ryan’s head had shaken nervously, because if Ben had taught him anything it was that She was almost never wrong. “I, I must have gotten it mixed up, I don’t know what animal reproduces the most-“ 

“Seahorses.”

Ryan had looked back up to Her, to see her grinning at him. All teeth and a warm affection that made the twisting feeling in Ryan’s gut fade. “Seahorses?” 

She’d nodded, humming an affirmation. “Up to 2,000 babies at a time.” Then She’d twisted around to look at Ben, her face growing just a little brighter than it had been before as Ryan saw their eyes meet. “And the men give birth to them, Benjamin.”

Ben had scowled. “How the fuck is that my problem-“

She’d pouted at him, and Ryan had seen them do this a million times before. She poked him, and he poked back, and neither of them ever really meant it, and it would go and go until one of them—probably Ben, Ryan had seen Her talk circles around their whole weird little family all at once with breaking or faltering—gave in and shut the other up.

“Would you give birth to my seahorse babies, my love?”

“I’m not giving birth to fucking shit-“

“But would you-“

“No.” Ben had grunted, rolling his eyes. “Because men don’t give fucking birth-“

“Seahorse men do. Seahorse men get pregnant, and then give birth. Which is usually how that process goes, but in seahorse societies it’s considered masculine. The men give birth because they love their partners and don’t want them to be in pain-“

Ryan didn’t think that last part was true, but there was usually a point in these arguments where She started to tug at Ben’s shirt with a soft, teasing smile, and said words that didn’t need to be true, because they were almost always her winning blow. This hadn’t been any different, because She’d cut herself off with a small yelp as Ben pulled her further into his lap, leaning down to kiss her.

Ryan had found somewhere else to look for a few minutes. He’d gotten good at that, at reading when he had to pretend that his two trusted adults weren’t maybe seconds from having sex on the floor. They never did, and it didn’t really bother Ryan—they both smiled twice as much when they were done, and Ryan had seen a lot worse than the way they always seemed to be eating each other’s faces—but he still had to wait it out.

When it was preceded by one of their fake arguments, it usually lasted a little longer. The kissing would stop, and they’d just look at each for a minute or two until She turned back to Ryan and Ben’s arms locked around her stomach.

That was Ryan’s favorite part of this. How She’d keep talking to him with a wide, happy expression that Butcher had called Her ditzy fuckin Soldier Boy smile, and Ben would just look at Her.

Ryan really liked how Ben looked at Her. It was an expression of something soft and powerful that he’d only ever seen on Ben’s face, only ever directed at her. It was relaxed and adoring, but still solemn and firm in the only way Ben seemed to know how to be. Like She might be the only thing that Ben knew was real, and he wasn’t bothered by that at all.

It wasn’t like Dad had looked at Stormfront. That had been meaner. Like they were always in a fight—not one of Her and Ben’s play fights, which were more like a cat and a dog swatting at each other before the dog flopped over, and the cat climbed on top of it, but instead a violent, bloody war—and were trying to see who’d snap first. Dad had looked at Stormfront like he was waiting for her to stab him, but wasn’t sure she would.

Ben looked at Her like he’d handed her the knife to carve into his body, and She’d made a face and thrown it away. 

Ryan hadn’t really ever seen Butcher look at Mom, but he hoped it had been a little like that. It was what Mom had deserved, even if Butcher could be a cock fuck bitch with his head tonguing his own ass, in Ben’s words.

But Butcher was getting better. He’d apologized for saying Ryan had hurt Mom—he hadn’t meant to, he never meant to, and he still had nightmares where Mom’s guts were spilling out of her body, and she looked right through Ryan like he was a ghost—and mostly didn’t talk to Ryan about Dad anymore.

Nobody really liked to talk to Ryan about Dad. Ryan knew She would, if he asked, but he didn’t want to ask. He’d never forget what Butcher had shown him—about Mom and Dad and Her—or how, for the first two months Ryan had lived with everyone, She’d been gone because of Dad. Because of Ryan. 

Not your fucking fault, kid. She’d kill me if I let you blame yourself for your pussy fuck dad’s actions.

That was why Ryan talked to Ben about it. He didn’t coddle or lie or sweeten the truth, he just grunted words that—when Ben said them—always seemed to be the inherent truth. Dad wasn’t Ryan’s fault, and Ryan was getting stronger, and it was okay that Ryan got afraid because it he wasn’t a pathetic fucking dickless pussy about it.

Ryan asked Ben if it was okay to hurt people, and Ben told him if they fucking deserve it, but only if they deserve it, and Ryan decided that sounded right. And She said most people didn’t deserve to be hurt, and very few things were truly unforgivable, so Ryan could try to figure out what things were really wrong, and then hurt the people that really deserved it.

Dad deserved it. When Ryan wasn’t afraid of Dad, he was angry at him. 

“Do you get angry?” He’d mumbled over a breakfast in Her and Ben’s apartment, and She’d hummed, tilting her head.

“I do. We all do. Anger is our brains telling us that something is unfair, and a lot of this isn’t really fair. So yeah, I get angry.”

Ryan had nodded slowly, turning to Ben as he approached the table from the kitchen. “Ben, do you-“ 

“Course I fucking get angry.” Ben had dumped three large pancakes onto Ryan’s plate, then two larger ones onto Her’s, then a smaller one onto his own, and ignored Her glare as he dropped into his seat. “This whole goddamn thing-“

She’d cleared her throat, eyes narrowed at Ben. “Benjamin.”

“What-“

She’d given a pointed look to his plate, then back to him. “You need to eat as well.”

“I’ll be fine, Sunshine, you and the kid need more than I do-“

She’d cut one of Her pancakes in half, moving the bigger piece to Ben’s plate, and he’d scowled. They’d both been silent, glaring at each other for almost a minute, and then Ben had grunted. She’d leaned back into her chair with a smug grin, and everything had moved on.

Neither of them had been mad, though. Ryan had thought that glaring and frowning was only about hatred, but when She and Ben glowered at each other it seemed to be more of a standoff. An act or show or contest of affection that neither of them ever seemed to be upset about losing.

They were never really mad at each other at all. Ryan had seen them yell at and taunt and mock each other, but there always seemed to be something under it that sounded like I love you. I’m allowed to call you a dumb dumb or pain in the ass, because I love you and we both know I don’t mean it, because I’m “fighting” with you, but I’m also holding onto you like you’re a buoy in the storm.

Ryan wanted to love someone like that. He wanted someone to love him like that. Because Ben never seemed to really think she was mad at him, even when she called him a cunt or idiot or asshole. Ryan himself didn’t think she was ever really mad at Ben, because he’d watch Her hit Ben’s arm with a fake pout or glare, but she’d never flinch or cower away from him. She was always touching Ben, and she was never afraid of him. Ben had hurt people, Ben was just as dangerous as Ryan was, but She only touched and looked at him like he’d fallen from heaven for her to have. She always kept her hand in Ben’s, or her body in his arms, or their legs pressed together. And she always looked for him. And She always seemed to be happier when she was talking to and looking at Ben, with just his presence never failing to make her smile.

And Ben loved Her. It seemed like love in movies Ryan had watched with Mom, or that he’d read about in books he’d found tucked in corners of Butcher’s apartment. But real. Ryan didn’t think Ben was capable of being really, truly mad at Her, and she seemed to know it. Ben would roll his eyes at Her, and grumble that she was brat, or glare at her in a way that would be dangerous if it wasn’t at Her. Whenever Ben glared at Her it was so painfully fake Ryan wondered if Butcher had been lying when he’d told Ryan not to mention love around those two twats, they ain’t aware that they’re fuckin obsessed with each other yet after She’d returned, because Ben didn’t seem capable looking at Her with anything but love painted over his features.

They certainly knew now. Everyone knew, because every third sentence out of Ben’s mouth was another declaration of love for Her. Every single thing Ben did seemed to be something for Her. Ryan would eat dinner with them, and he’d see Ben pass Her a fistful of stolen chocolate under the table. He’d watch a movie with them, and She’d would be holding Ben’s arms against Her, and Ben would kiss her in the dark and snort at her jokes and get Her and Ryan snacks whenever either of them so much as mentioned the word hungry. He’d train with Ben, and ask a question about punching, and Ben would grumble about how She said you could punch people and be a pacifist, like Muhammad Ali, and she was always fucking right about that shit. And She was a genius. And a better person than every other fucking pussy on the planet, so they should both fucking listen to her. 

Ben carried Her in his arms wherever she let him, and She never stopped smiling at him, and Ryan had decided that if he ever loved someone—far in the future, when Dad was just a faint, reoccurring nightmare—he’d love them like Ben loved Her.

Ryan would never be like Homelander, because he’d never lock up or hurt people he loved. Ryan would be like Ben. And that felt easier, because Ben never demanded that Ryan follow in his steps. He was just there, and trustworthy, and Ryan wanted to be strong like him. He wanted to protect people and do things for them. He wanted to never speak or think of his Dad again, because really their family was Ben and Her, a stained hole that didn’t really matter and Ben wouldn’t let hurt them, and Ryan. It was Butcher forgiving Ryan, because he was trying, and She said the most important thing anyone could do was try to be better. 

He was really trying to be better. Ryan didn’t really trust people, but he trusted Her and Ben when they said that this wasn’t his fault. He believed them when they told him what he knew, that Ryan really didn’t mean to hurt people.

And Ryan hoped that, after Homelander was dead, he’d get to have a life where they kept smiling at each other—and him—and Ryan never was made to hurt someone again.

End Note: Catch Ben in his Dad era, coming to a No Love Lost chapter near you (in all seriousness I hope you guys liked the extra pov! An outside perspective on how down bad they both are was very fun to write)

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Taglist

@manicjk @lordofthunderthr @artemys-ackles @brtodd

[sweetiesicheng]

jun - school day

word count : 585

-

"mrs. wen! can we go to recess early today?" one of your students ask.

you cross your arms and give them a stern look before smiling. "if you guys can cleanup quickly, then you can go early," you say to them, "but you need to listen to my instructions so we clean up properly."

"yes mrs.wen!"

your students are clearly eager for a few extra minutes of recess, so you quickly go through the cleanup process from the science experiment you had conducted for their lesson. all of them cleanup quickly while you dispose of some of the household chemicals that were used for the experiment.

"okay, for listening to me and following directions carefully, you guys can go to recess early," you say to your students once they are back in their seats.

"yay!"

"thank you!"

"yes!"

they start to cheer, but you're quick to quiet them down. "everyone, there's other classes next to us, so be respectful," you say to them. "lineup," you instruct them as you walk to the door. all of them lineup and you open the door to the classroom.

you bring your class to the door that leads them to the playground and open it.

"alright guys, be careful outside today. there's still some puddles from when it rained," you say to your students as you let them outside to play on the playground.

"thank you mrs. wen!"

"thank you!"

your students start running out to the playground with you walking with them. all of them hurry to the various playground equipment and start playing.

after a few minutes, other classes start coming out and you see your coworkers bring their students out.

"you let them out early?" one of your coworkers asks you.

"i finished my lesson a lot earlier than i expected, and they've been good lately," you explain.

"mine are rascals," another coworker sighs as she sits down next to you. "hey, where did jun go?" she asks, looking around.

"huh? he's gone?" another coworker asks and looks around. then, he points, "found him."

you look over and see your husband rounding up a group of students on the grass next to the kickball field.

"he's so energetic," one of your coworker comments.

"tell me about it," you reply.

"is he like this at home?" she asks.

you shrug, "sometimes. i think he's not as energetic because it's just us at home. he uses up his energy with his students."

"everyone! follow me!" you hear jun yell as students follow after him.

"he's so playful," another coworker comments as she watches jun direct students onto the kickball field.

"he's a good teacher though," another coworker says.

you look over the playground and watch over some of the students that are playing, making sure they don't go too crazy. as you watch over some students, you sense someone coming up to the table you're at.

"honey," jun calls for you and grabs your hand. "come on," he quickly urges.

"what?" you question him.

"we need another team captain," he says to you with a smile. "all of them asked for you," he says, gesturing to the students that are on the field.

you sigh, "you're grading all of my worksheets for me."

“only if your team wins,” jun instantly replies.

you raise an eyebrow, realizing the incentive. “alright, and if your team wins, i’ll buy all the craft supplies that you need for next week.”

he grins, "deal," he says and takes you away from the table.

[blackcardz]

 hyunwoo  took  a  deep  breath  as  he  stepped  fully  into  the  library,  his  eyes  taking  in  the  scene  before  him.  ari,  draped  casually  on  the  arm  of  the  couch  in  her  robe,  looked  worlds  away  from  the  bloodied  figure  he'd  seen  earlier.  there  was  an  almost  unsettling  calmness  to  the  way  she  was  sprawled  out,  like  this  was  just  another  day  in  her  life.  meanwhile,  his  own  thoughts  were  a  storm  of  confusion,  disbelief,  and  worry.  he  walked  over  and  sank  into  the  chair  across  from  her,  still  trying  to  wrap  his  head  around  everything  that  had  happened  tonight.  his  gaze  lingered  on  her  for  a  moment  before  he  spoke,  his  voice  soft  but  edged  with  the  weight  of  everything  unsaid.

 ❛  a  million  questions  ?  yeah,  that  sounds  about  right.  ❜  he  began,  a  faint  smile  tugging  at  his  lips,  though  it  didn't  quite  reach  his  eyes.  there  was  too  much  on  his  mind  for  him  to  be  as  relaxed  as  he  usually  was  around  her.  he  ran  a  hand  through  his  hair,  trying  to  piece  together  his  thoughts.  ❛  i  have  known  your  family  was  ..  well,  powerful.  connected.  but  this  ?  a  whole  operation,  rival  gangs,  guards,  blood  on  your  hands  -  literally  ?  ❜  he  shook  his  head,  still  processing  it  all.  ❛  i  didn't  expect  this,  not  from  you.  you  never  let  on  that  things  were  this  deep.  ❜  leaning  back  in  the  chair,  he  looked  around  the  library  as  if  searching  for  answers  in  the  old  books  and  paintings  that  lined  the  walls.  none  of  it  seemed  real,  yet  here  he  was,  thrown  into  the  middle  of  a  world  he  barely  understood.

 ❛  so  this  is  what  you  have  been  dealing  with  all  along,  huh  ?  while  i  was  out  living  my  life,  going  to  parties,  messing  around  ..  this  was  your  reality.  ❜  there  was  a  pause,  a  heaviness  to  his  words.  he  wasn't  angry,  more  bewildered  and,  in  a  way,  impressed  by  how  well  she  had  hidden  all  of  this.  but  there  was  something  deeper,  a  worry  that  gnawed  at  him.  ❛  and  your  father  ..  he  just  accepts  me  being  dragged  into  this  mess  ?  guards  ?  offering  protection  for  me  and  my  family  ?  ❜  his  brows  furrowed  as  he  leaned  forward,  resting  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  his  expression  more  serious  than  she  had  probably  ever  seen  it.  ❛  what  does  he  want  from  me,  noona  ?  i  mean,  it  can't  be  just  because  we  have  known  each  other  for  years,  right  ?  ❜  his  voice  softened  as  he  looked  at  her.  ❛  i  just  need  to  know  one  thing  ..  why  me  ?  why  would  you  let  me  get  so  close,  knowing  all  of  this  was  happening  behind  the  scenes  ?  was  it  to  protect  me,  or  is  there  something  else  ?  ❜

Ari waited in the library. Too many thoughts were going through her head, but only few of them involved the Kim family. Of course she thought about her family and the new threat they faced fighting another rival, though even little thought went to the murder she'd committed with her own hands. Most of the worry she had was about Hyunwoo. Her father was too casual in the way he'd spoken to him and the obvious care he showed, and more worrying memories came back to her as she recalled conversing about her casual meetings with Hyunwoo over the years.

"The Park family? It would be good to be allies with them."

"That Park kid again? It's good to keep people like him around."

"Bring Hyunwoo over some time and introduce us. Might be good to meet who you spend most of your time with."

At first, they'd seemed like a father's innocent interest in their daughters friends. Now? The way he'd so casually offered up their personal guards to look over him, and now his family, had her wondering if her father had already tried to make another ally. Suddenly, she felt a little sick at the thought of her father trying to recruit Hyunwoo in.

She was pulled out of her thoughts when the door opened. Ari had been sitting on the arm of the couch with her legs laying over the top in her robe. No longer covered in blood, she felt a little bit cleaner and noticeably more comfortable in her own home. She relaxed upon seeing Hyunwoo less bloody and more like himself.

"I'm sure you have a million questions," she mumbled, gesturing for him to get comfortable since they were completely alone in there. "You've noticed my family didn't get rich by investing in a business. Go ahead. Ask whatever you want. I'm ready to answer them."

[gothamite-rambler]

Selina's reaction to who's Nightwing after Bruce told her he is Batman.

Context: This is my version for this because I got the idea from when Black Cat found out Peter was a teenager and vomited. If she had an equally funny reaction in the comics that I should read that's good too

Bruce: Nightwing is Dick Grayson, who was also Robin… and he's my son.

Selina (surprised): Nightwing?

Bruce: Yep.

Selina: So the next thing you tell me after revealing you’re Bruce Wayne is that your son is Nightwing… and was your Robin?

Bruce (adding): The first Robin.

Selina's face turned pale the gulped.

Selina: He’s… your son and was the first Robin? Th- Th- the kid I met… that's Dick Grayson?

Bruce (nodding): Yep. Have you met him?

Bruce observed as Selina, usually so composed, locked up in shock. He remained stoic, knowing her reaction was a sign of just how blindsided she felt.

Selina: I have met that son of yours who was… Sweet Jesus, he was nine when we first met. Robin and Nightwing, the same person. Ha ha ha… I’ve met him. God, he was so… nice to me.

Selina recalled her flirty exchanges with Nightwing, completely oblivious to the significant age difference or the fact that he had been that sweet child she hugged when they first met. He had always turned her down, but back then, she’d just assumed he was being a prude.

Bruce: Mm-hm, he mentioned you two met when he was in his Nightwing suit… both versions. The popped collar one was a bit much, right?

Selina (shaking her knee nervously): Uh-huh... Oh God.

Bruce: What’s the issue? All he told me was that you guys talked, went on missions, yadda yadda.

Selina (laughing nervously): He said that? Well, that’s good. Is the son I met as a kid, who I saw again as… not quite a grown man in that tight blue and black suit… here right now?

Bruce (deadpan): He’s in the kitchen.

Selina (biting her fingernail): Okay, cool, cool, cool.

Bruce: I'm going to give you a moment to process all of this while I read.

He grabbed a magazine and began flipping through the pages, humming quietly while suppressing his laughter.

Bruce (teasingly): Oh, he was about seventeen when he became Nightwing. Not that it matters, but it’s a helpful fact.

Selina bowed her head, wrestling with whether to confess to Bruce.

Selina (whispering): Is this why I’m going to burn in hell?

Bruce: Is there something you want to tell me?

Selina (covering her blushing face with her hands): Bruce… I— I may have flirted with Nightwing a lot, thinking he wasn’t your son. And I thought—Oh God, how old was he again?

Bruce: He became Nightwing at seventeen. You definitely met him when he was eighteen, though.

Selina (groaning): I’m going to vomit.

Bruce (trying not to smile): This might not help, but your reaction is totally reasonable.

Selina: Oh, thanks. It doesn’t help that he was clearly uncomfortable with my advances. I’ve come to accept that I’m destined to burn in hell.

Bruce (comforting and not angry): No, that’s not going to happen. You’re having a good reaction, and it shows you weren’t aware. Plus, he told me you eventually stopped.

Selina (holding her head down): He told you how I actually acted, didn’t he?

Bruce: Yep… made it very clear that he was not a fan of it. I’m not mad, though; I’m actually enjoying this. Quick question—did you ever ask him to come over to your apartment?

Selina (blushing): I swear to God, I did not know! All he said was he knew you. If I had known his age, or that you were related— God, he was that cute little button— I sound like one of those creeps from TCAP.

Bruce: Selina, it’s not that bad. You’re showing guilt, and honestly, he did look older for his age.

Selina (covering her face in shame): I thought he was a prude! Yes, I stopped when he made it clear he wasn’t interested, but now I'm going to have to move.

Bruce: Or you could talk to him.

Selina: Nope, moving to Blüdhaven.

Bruce (chuckling softly): Dick lives in Blüdhaven.

Selina (gasping): Oh my God.

Bruce (reassuringly): He doesn’t hold any anger towards you. Just go talk to him.

Selina (lamenting): Okay, okay, remember when I thought you were a creep because you had a child sidekick? I look like one now.

Bruce: Ironic, isn’t it?

Selina groaned, leaving Bruce's office while angrily whispering to herself.

Selina (whispering): Great job, Catwoman. Flirt with him, that’s just what I do. I wasn’t aware he was your son.

Lost in her thoughts, she bumped into Dick, and their eyes met.

Selina: Oh hi, Nightwing, I mean Dick, I mean Richard— I mean—

She covered her face, overwhelmed.

Dick (nodding): I’m glad he told you.

Selina: I am terribly sorry for—

Dick: We don’t have to talk about it… ever.

Selina: Yes, but Bruce, Batman, your father… the man you fought crime with as a boy in that adorable hero suit. Oh God, I flirted with you so much, and I didn’t mean for it to go anywhere. I thought you were in your twenties at least.

Dick: Tsk, not sure if I should feel insulted that you thought I was in my 20s when I was 18. But either way, it's fine, I’m over it.

Selina: You have every right to be mad at me. Especially when you said it made you uncomfortable. I just— I never considered that you were that adorable little eight-year-old I met back in my early cat burglar days. I’m many things, but not a creep.

Dick (smiling): Selina, seriously, it’s fine. Sadly… I’ve dealt with worse. You eventually took the hint. When Bruce told me he revealed his identity to you, I was relieved he’d finally tell you who I was. It cleared up a lot of awkward tension that you weren’t aware of. How you’re reacting now is completely appropriate.

Selina: Your father, the man I'm dating, said the same thing. I’m not the type of woman who thinks a teenager is a viable partner. God, you were graduating high school at that time. You were a baby. Am I patronizing you again? Sorry.

Dick chuckled and patted Selina on the shoulder.

Dick: You kind of are, but it helps. You can see me as the adorable child I was and the charming man I am now. Remember, I’m Robin— I do flips and tricks.

Selina (lowering her hands): Yeah… you really are that precious little Robin I remember from back in the day.

Dick: Aww, thank you.

Selina (giggling): Awww, you’re still so cute. Thank you, Dick. Handshake?

Dick smiled and shook Selina’s hand, then walked past her towards Bruce's office.

Dick (over his shoulder): Oh, and Selina? Bruce definitely had you talk to me to embarrass us both.

Selina (sighing at the realization): That tracks… I need a drink.

Selina headed to the kitchen.

[aces-solace]

Favorite patient

Chapter two: party fun

Warnings: porn with plot, smut, fingering, semi publicity (public bathroom), throuple. I think that's all. Let me know if there is more.

"I know, I know. How about we meet up at a nearby bar and I'll pay?" I say, though I don't plan on paying as they always end up paying. "Fine, you really owe us one Amari!" Rebecca huffs before hanging up.

Fucking assholes. Whatever, I should go home and change, I wanna get laid tonight. I'm probably lying to myself right now, I always chicken out. They always seem to bother me about it.

Being a virgin at 23? Unheard of.

.

.

.

Fuck, what should I wear? Hm... I rummage through my closet and pull out a pair of knee-length black shorts, "hm... Not bad" I hum, tossing the shorts on my bed. Now a shirt.

I search my closet and pull out a black long sleeved fishnet crop top with black mesh making my chest less visible. Yeah, this'll work. I think I'll wear my fishnet thigh highs with my shorts.

Yeah, perfect.

.

.

.

I feel like a whore. " 'Mari darling~ can you go get some more drinks?" Rachel slurs, putting extra emphasis on the 'darling'. I quickly nod and walk away from the group.

Rachel has always had a thing for me, something I pretend to be oblivious to. I walk up to the counter, "Hi, can I get three cosmopolitan shots over there?" He nods "Thank you" I say, sitting at one of the stools.

My eyes scan the crowd, perhaps looking for my one nightstand, maybe just eye candy. A tall man with white hair catches my eye, next to him is a woman wearing a tight black dress.

Holy fuck,- that can't be... "Didn't know if doctors could drink, Dr. Gojo" "Very funny nurse Geto" he hums back at her. Fuck, it is. I quickly avert my eyes and someone else catches my eye.

A tan man with ripped baggy jeans and a short sleeves black shirt. I wouldn't mind losing my V-card to him.. We lock eyes and he motions for me to come over. Before I can fully stand up someone is pushing me down

"Didn't expect to see you here hun" Geto says, making herself comfortable in my lap "I- uh, I'm here with friends" I say, looking anywhere but at her. "Ah, ah, ah. Eyes on me angel" she coos at me, gently redirecting my gaze to her.

"I-" I see Rachel walking over to us, drink in hand, looking pissed. Fuck. I grab Geto's thighs and flip our position, her sitting in the chair as I hover over her and, as I expected Rachel's drink splashed on me.

"Amari- I am so-" "Here, let me help you dry off in the bathroom" Geto cuts off Rachel. Before I can say anything I'm being dragged to the bathroom by Geto. I walk in and I'm pushed against the door.

Her mouth quickly attached to mine, her tongue exploring my mouth. My hands fall on her hips, griping them tightly. I break the kiss after a few minutes, panting for air. "D-darling please..."

"Darling huh? Hm.. how do you feel about a throuple?" "T-thats fine..." She smiles and pulls me out of the bathroom and out of the bar. I catch a glimpse of a crying and angry Rachel but before I can process it anymore I'm outside.

"Who's the third person?" I ask as we walk towards a sleek black car "Someone you already met" She assured me, opening the car door and pushing me in, not wasting any time getting in and closing the door behind her.

Climbing on top of me and reattaching her lips to mine, "Well hello to you" he says, starting the car. I break the kiss "Hi" I huff out before kissing down her neck, "H-hah.. how many people have you done this too?" Geto asks breathlessly.

"I'm a virgin" I mumble against her skin. "Seriously?" Gojo asks "mhm.."

.

.

.

After what feels like forever we finally get to his house. I carry Geto upstairs to a random room, laying her on the bed. I immediately start attacking her neck again, unzipping her dress and pulling it off of her.

"Ngh! Hah... P-please~" she moans out, though I don't know what she's begging for. I take off her bra, tossing it to the side with her dress. I'm not sure when Gojo walked in but I feel him push me closer to Geto.

Geto is now under me as Gojo is behind me, I think I know what he's gonna do. I quickly put my hand to use, sneaking between her legs and circling her clit with my thumb.

"Hah!... M-more... Please.." she begs, her nails clawing at my back. Who am I to deny such a pretty plea? I push two fingers into her, slowly stretching her out. She cries out so prettily.

I flinch when I feel one of Gojo's fingers pushing into me. "F-fucking hell.." I mumble before attaching my mouth to Geto's nipple. "Mmm! S-so good..." She moaned, I can definitely say the same.

.

.

.

I groan as I slowly sit up. I glance over staring at the parts of Geto and Gojo's body that weren't covered. Bite marks, hickeys, and scratch marks littered all over them. Fucking beautiful.

Then it sets in, the realization. I slept with my doctor and my nurse.

[tyrantisterror]

At Sea Without a Map pt. 25

For a very brief moment, you consider how out of all the crazy bullshit that's been thrown at you, this - a fucking pirate tiger - is the thing that's breaking your brain. Sea monsters and living nightmares are one thing, but how do you even begin to comprehend something this goddamn silly being real?

Well, apparently you just roll with it, because that's what you end up doing. "Alright, Calibani, translate for me please," you say, "I've got some questions for..." You stop and squint at the tiger pirate, and it regards you back with the terrifying stare of an apex predator. "For Captain Peter."

The tiger sits at attention, waiting for your queries. With a nod from Calibani, you begin to interrogate the big cat. "Alright, so..." You try to think of which questions would be most important to ask, but one keeps superseding them in your mind. "I'm sorry, but why are you a tiger? Like, were you transformed into a tiger or something?"

Calibani poses the question for you in a mix of growls and roars, and Captain Peter simply shakes his shaggy head in response. "He says he's always been a tiger."

"Then how did he get here?" you ask. "Tigers aren't exactly aquatic wildlife!"

After a translation by Calibani, Captain Peter begins growling and roaring back a very long answer, which takes your fishy companion a while to parse. "I think I have the jist..." Calibani says.

"Captain Peter was put in a cage by a nasty man. The nasty man took him on a big boat across the ocean, and Captain Peter was very sad and scared. A great storm came and shook the ship, breaking the cage and letting Peter free! He chased the nasty man off the big boat and onto a small boat, then ate the nasty man and was very happy! But he had nowhere to go, and was stuck on the boat for a long time. Eventually he saw a huge fish, and it tried to eat him, but he ate it instead. Eating the fish made him and his boat stronger, so he kept doing that, and now he and his boat are very strong!"

As the story is relayed to you, you place your palm upon your face and slowly draw it down as you process what you're hearing. "Alright, alright, fine, that makes enough sense," you tell yourself. "But where'd he get the coat, and the hat, and the eyepatch, and the goddamn hand-hook on his tail?"

After relaying the question, Calibani translates the tiger's brief answer, "From adventure." Frowning, she growls a followup question to the tiger, and gets another brief response. "I'm sorry, he's not giving me more detail than that."

Sighing, you ask, "Is he the only crew of this ship? I mean, it's huge, don't ships like this need a big crew?" You look at the tiger again and add, "Also, like, human hands to manipulate it?"

After some back and forth roaring, Calibani translates, "He is the only crew of this boat. It listens to him well, and has grown big and strong."

"What the fuck does that mean?" you ask. "Boats don't grow!"

"They don't?" Calibani asks. "I thought all living things do that."

"Boats aren't alive!" you say, only to remember some odd quirks of your own vehicle. "At least they're not supposed to be..."

"Huh. You learn something new everyday, I suppose," Calibani says.

A thought occurs to you. "Ask him how long he's been here."

Calibani relays the question then gives you the response. "Many days and many nights. He says that he has lived longer than any tiger has lived before out here, and plans to live longer still. As long as he draws breath, he will claw and bite and thrive out here on the sea."

It's not a specific answer, which should be expected from a creature that was not taught how to record and measure time (and hell, it's not like you've been doing a good job of it yourself), but it tells you what you need to know. If you are stuck here, that doesn't mean you're doomed. After all, a tiger's got some significant disadvantages you don't have to deal with, and if he made it this long, maybe you can too.

Still, that doesn't mean you want to stay here. "Ask Captain Peter what he knows about Dr. Neptune, whoever that is. If those notes are to be trusted, that guy might be my ticket home."

A good deal of roaring fills the air as you wait for an answer. "He says Dr. Neptune is... um... a bucket? With meat in it? A meat bucket?" Calibani shrugs. "I'm not quite sure what he's describing, but apparently this Neptune fella is pretty smart, but also strange? He lives in a... what?" She growls and roars back and forth with the tiger again. "He lives in a mountain shaped like a wrinkly butt."

"...a wrinkly butt," you say flatly.

"Yeah, like a monkey's butt, but covered in wrinkles," Calibani says. "Peter says Dr. Neptune does not like it when he calls it a butt, but that's what it looks like, and Dr. Neptune can complain all he wants but he chose to live in a butt mountain so what does he know."

"Does he know how to send me home?" you ask insistently. "I don't care if he lives in an actual asshole, I just want to go home!"

The tiger thinks for a while when this question is translated for him, before finally growling out a reply for Calibani to relay. "If anyone Peter's met would know, it'd be Dr. Neptune." More growling, more translation. "But Peter asks why you want to go back? There are nasty men at home. The sea doesn't put you in a cage."

That question stuns you so bad you feel dizzy, because you're not sure what the answer to it is. As you try to think of it, you feel your compass grow heavy in your pocket, and instinctively reach down, grab it, and reposition it so it weighs a bit less on you. "Tell me where I can find Dr. Neptune," you say, putting the tiger's question out of mind for now.

Captain Peter turns around and looks to the horizon, gesturing at it with his tail-mounted hook. "He says we should travel that way. It should be no more than a day's journey till we find Dr. Neptune's island. If we hit the island with jagged spines, we've gone too far."

"Spines?"

"He doesn't have the largest vocabulary," Calibani says. "I think he means rocks, or maybe mountains? He describes most things in animal terms."

"Alright," you sigh. "Those are directions are easy enough to follow, anyway." You think about any other questions you might have. "Does he have any weapons he can spare - a cannon, maybe? I just lost my harpoon, after all."

Calibani relays the message, and the tiger's eye lights up. He gives a growl before stalking up the plank back to his ship, then returns shortly afterward with a bundle of harpoons held in his jaws. "Oh, that's kind of him," Calibani says. "We have five to spare now!"

You think about how you would have preferred a cannon, but decide not to verbalize it. "Thank him for me," you ask Calibani, and she nods and growls to the tiger.

Captain Peter nods and releases several roars in quick succession. "He says to think nothing of it, and to remember the kindness of Captain Peter. He adds that he wishes us well on our journey, and that we kill and eat many a monster, so we too may grow strong." She gives the tiger a nod as he trots back to his ship. "Pretty pleasant fellow, huh?"

"...yeah," you say quietly as you watch the tiger climb up onto his pirate ship and sail away. Once more you're safe, and while you have more of an idea what to do now, you're still left with a lot of burning questions. Confused as to what you should focus on, you consult your compass.

[procyonloser]

Pt 2

Lucifer had been thinking about the guy at the aquarium for the last two weeks, on and off. He'd not really been eager to date since the divorce, and Lucifer was not a hook up kind of guy. He truly did want to be an anglerfish, he wanted to latch onto his partner until one or (ideally) both of them died. He was obsessive, but in a fun caring way that definitely didn't drive his ex wife away.

"Ugh..." Lucifer dragged his hand down his face, trying not to look at himself in the mirror, at the risk of seeing the purple under his eyes that seemed just ever present at this point in his exhausted life.

"Papa, look!" Charlie said, standing up from her little table he had in the living room for all her arts and crafts. She ran over, holding a big piece of paper with a bunch of scribbles on it, but in the middle was unmistakenly a jellyfish from the aquarium. Lucifer grabbed it in his hands with a big smile, marveling at it - his daughter was so talented!

"It's beautiful, Charchar!" Lucifer exclaimed, kissing her all over her head, to squeals of giggles. "Wow, look at that, what a perfect jellyfish! You really liked the aquarium, huh?"

Charlie nodded her head, eyes big and bright. "I like the one tank with the pink stuff, and the other one with the one thing, and the floppy little guys on the ground, and the-"

"Do you want to go again?" Lucifer asked her, and Charlie froze up for a second, processing the question, before she bolted for the door, grabbing her little red coat and boots. Lucifer wanted to cry, she was so cute.

Lucifer had packed in the car her stroller wagon, because Charlie had started to get tired last time by the end, and she'd made Lucifer carry her coat and stuffed toys the entire time. They'd been rolling around the aquarium for a bit, looking at the different displays, before Charlie got excited at the penguin exhibit. Not exactly what Lucifer considered aquarium animals, but he supposed it made as much sense as an otter or seal.

He lifted Charlie up so she could see the birds waddle around, and he was so distracted by her reaction, he didn't notice the shadow beside him.

"I hate penguins," the voice said, and Lucifer turned slightly to look at the man, before doing a double take, eyes going wide. Oh, oh it was the hot but not hot guy from before, Lucifer opened his mouth, before closing it, and then opened it again. "You doing your best fish impersonation? You really do want to be a male anglerfish, don't you?" He asked with a cheeky grin, and Lucifer finally got the chance to see his name tag.

Adam. Yeah, he looked like an Adam.

"Well, you know," Lucifer laughed nervously, maybe a little too enthusiastically, but he had a hard time gauging that sort of thing. "Why don't you like penguins?"

"The stink, and they're fucking sociopaths, like they're tiny demons. Everyone goes, oh they're so cute, oh look at the gay penguins, aren't they great? No, they're awful. Worse than dolphins. You know what necrophilia is?" Lucifer regretfully nodded his head, grimace spreading across his face.

"Like I said," Adam said with a huff, looking back over at the birds. "I don't like penguins."

"Reasonable," Lucifer said in a slightly higher tone, growing more aware the man was just... There. Standing next to him. No one else was around. Sure, maybe he was an employee talking to a client, but it didn't seem like that was it. "Do you like any birds, or is your thing just...fish?"

"Swans are cool," Adam said, glancing at him. "They are super loyal, they mate for life, and they're giant vicious shits."

"I like ducks," Lucifer said plainly, immediately regretting it.

"Don't get me started on ducks," Adam rolled his eyes, before pushing away from the banister. "I'm about to go run the touch tank in the kid's activity reef room, if your kiddo wants to come see. You can touch little rays, starfish, shrimp, sea cucumbers."

"...Sea cucumbers?" Lucifer asked, raising an eyebrow. He'd never heard of them, was that like a sea sponge? But Adam sent him a wicked grin in response to the question, like he'd been hoping Lucifer wouldn't know much about them.

"Yeah, they're long tubes basically, and if you rub them too much and they get overwhelmed, they shoot out their intestines in long white stands." Adam said with a wink, before he walked a few feet away, glancing back at Lucifer with a smirk. "You gunna come, or do you need to latch onto me to keep up?"

"Ha...ha," Lucifer wheezed out, eyes falling to Adam's backside, before Charlie tugged on his jacket.

"Can we go? I want to see the shrimps." Charlie asked, giving her best puppy eyes, which worked instantly of course, Lucifer was a bit of a push over when it came to her.

"Absolutely," Lucifer said, already planning on buying a yearly membership to the aquarium.

[jq37]

I always pictured Athena watching the events of The Odyssey as they happened to keep tabs on what her ex is doing but it's much funnier to know that she left him on read for 10 years and then came back to a text thread so insane that she immediately had to go fight her dad.

[cosmicrhetoric]

cataloguing my thoughts on the wovercoats finale. why is it so funny that marlene and lady templar end up seeing each other when the former was briefly but intensely in love with antigone and the latter had a torrid affair with chapman (that. iirc ended at sword point?) and antigone and chapman have so much bubbling in the stewpot of their relationship that in this ep alone they got 1) a dream sequence i love you 2) a frank 'wrong timing/we just missed each other' moment and 3) a tentative promise to maybe grab a cup of coffee. i love mess i love messy people

[m4rv3l-girl]

Happens to the best of us

Bucky x Y/N

Bucky wants babies.

Requests Open!

Warnings: implied smut

Bucky couldn’t help but stare.

He leaned against the kitchen counter of the compound, arms crossed, sipping at a beer that had long since gone warm. The raucous sounds of the Avengers’ party filled the air—laughter, music, the occasional clang of plates or bottles—but all of it was background noise to him. His gaze was locked on you, on Y/N, across the room, sitting on the floor in the living room.

Morgan Stark was giggling loudly, hands waving excitedly as Y/N built an elaborate tower of colorful blocks, her soft voice guiding the girl through every step of the process. “And look! If we put this one right here—” Y/N placed the final block delicately at the top, balancing it with a careful touch. “—we’ve got ourselves a masterpiece.”

Morgan gasped dramatically, her eyes going wide as she clapped her hands together. “It’s so tall! It’s the biggest tower ever!”

Y/N beamed at the little girl, the expression so full of warmth and love that Bucky felt his chest tighten. Morgan clambered into her lap, curling into her with a sense of trust and affection that made something primal stir deep within him.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how natural it looked—how easy, how right. You and a little one.

The thought had been poking at the edges of his mind all evening, ever since you’d arrived at the party.

You’d barely left Morgan’s side, whether it was helping her sneak extra desserts from the snack table (something that got you both a stern but fond look from Pepper) or carrying her around on your shoulders as she pretended to fly like Iron Man. And the whole time, Bucky watched. Watched the way you moved, the way you interacted, how effortlessly you handled every tantrum, every sugar-fueled burst of energy.

It made his heart ache—in the best possible way.

“Buck, you good?”

Sam’s voice pulled him out of his trance. Bucky blinked, realizing his friend was standing beside him now, raising an eyebrow as he leaned casually against the counter.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bucky muttered, tearing his eyes away from you to focus on the beer in his hand.

Sam chuckled. “You’ve been staring at Y/N for the past hour, man. You sure you’re fine?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. He tried to play it off, taking another sip of the lukewarm beer. “Just…admiring the view, I guess.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam smirked. “Sure. You’ve got that look, man.”

“What look?”

“That look. The ‘I’m head-over-heels, wrapped-around-her-finger, ready-to-settle-down’ look.” Sam bumped his shoulder against Bucky’s, chuckling when the ex-assassin groaned in response. “Don’t worry, old man. Happens to the best of us.”

Bucky shot him a glare, but the playful tone in Sam’s voice made it hard to be annoyed. Instead, he just grunted and turned his attention back to you, heart clenching as Morgan cuddled closer into your arms.

“I’m serious, man,” Sam continued, softer now. “You look like you’re thinking about something pretty heavy over there.”

Bucky didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. Sam wasn’t wrong.

The night went on, and Bucky stayed mostly quiet, content to let the party swirl around him. Occasionally, you’d glance his way, sending him a bright smile before returning to your playful antics with Morgan. Each time, his heart skipped a beat.

By the time the party began winding down, the kids—especially Morgan—were wiped out, and the Avengers slowly started to trickle out of the compound. You helped Pepper and Tony gather Morgan’s things, giving the little girl a tight hug before bidding the Starks goodnight.

When you finally returned to Bucky’s side, you looked a little tired but completely content. “Ready to go home, doll?” he asked, his voice soft as his hand instinctively found the small of your back.

“Yeah, I think I’m done for the night,” you replied with a sleepy smile, leaning into his touch. “It was fun, though. Morgan’s a little firecracker.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Bucky chuckled, but his mind was still swirling with thoughts, images of you and Morgan together playing over and over in his head. “You were great with her.”

You shrugged, brushing it off like it was no big deal, but Bucky could see the faint blush coloring your cheeks. “She’s a sweetheart. Honestly, I love kids. They’re fun.”

Love kids. The words echoed in his mind, sending a jolt of warmth through him that he tried to ignore for the moment.

The car ride home was mostly quiet, save for the low hum of the radio in the background. You rested your head against the window, eyes half-closed, while Bucky kept one hand on the wheel and the other loosely intertwined with yours on the center console. It felt…peaceful. Comfortable. Yet, underneath it all, there was this tension building inside him, an unspoken desire simmering just below the surface.

He didn’t know how to bring it up, didn’t know how to start that conversation. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized it wasn’t something he could just push aside. Not anymore.

When you got home, you kicked off your shoes and wandered into the living room, stretching your arms above your head with a satisfied groan. “That was a good night,” you said, smiling over your shoulder at him as you began to pull off your jacket.

Bucky followed behind you, his gaze trailing the curve of your spine as you moved. He felt the heat in his chest grow stronger, something heavier, more intense than he’d expected. His mind kept drifting back to the party, to you and Morgan, to the idea that had been slowly taking root in his brain all night.

It didn’t take long for you to notice the shift in his mood. You turned to face him, frowning slightly as you tossed your jacket onto the back of the couch. “You’ve been quiet since we left the party. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Bucky hesitated, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he tried to find the right words. But he couldn’t. So instead, he took a deep breath and stepped closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. “Just thinking, doll,” he murmured, his voice low as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s all.”

“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands as you searched his eyes. “You’ve been weird ever since we left the party. Tell me what’s going on.”

Bucky sighed, his heart pounding in his chest. There was no escaping this now. He might as well just say it. “It’s just…watching you with Morgan tonight,” he began, his voice soft, almost unsure. “You were amazing with her. It made me think about…about us. About our future.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion for a moment, but then realization dawned on you, your eyes widening slightly. “Our future?” you echoed, your voice just above a whisper. ��You mean…?”

“Yeah,” Bucky nodded, his hands tightening on your waist. “I mean…a family. Kids. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing his words. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Bucky Barnes, are you telling me you’ve got baby fever?”

He groaned, his face flushing with embarrassment as he buried it in the crook of your neck. “Don’t make fun of me, kitten,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against your skin.

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilted your head back to give him better access to your neck. “I’m not making fun of you. I just didn’t think I’d ever hear those words come out of your mouth.”

Bucky pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his expression serious now. “I’m not saying we have to do anything about it too soon if you don’t want to. But…I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Seeing you with Morgan tonight…it made me realize how much I want that. With you.”

Your heart swelled at his words, your smile softening as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. It was slow, tender, full of love and unspoken promises. When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want that too, Bucky.”

The way he looked at you then—like you were his whole world, his future, his everything—it sent a shiver down your spine. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’d make such a good mommy, doll. I could see it tonight.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks, your heart racing as his words stirred something deep inside you. “And you’d be an amazing daddy,” you replied, your voice laced with mischief. “I know it.”

His grip on your waist tightened, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed along your jawline, his lips trailing down to your neck. “You think so?”

“Yup, the best,” you whispered, your hands tangling in his hair as he pressed his body closer to yours, the heat between you building with each passing.

“Doll?” He mumbled into your neck. The warmth of his breath raising goosebumps on your neck.

“Hm?”

“Can I put a baby in you?”

You brain stopped function for a fraction of a second and the air midway up your throat disappeared. “I…Right now?” You asked with a hint of disbelieving laughter.

“Yeah. Right now.” With a firm nod, his metal hand squeezed at the flesh of your ass, which happened to be one of his favorite things to play with.

“Can’t wait until you’re bigger, just swollen with my kids…” The words alone made him shiver. The thought of you sitting there, belly round and full of the babies he put in there, breasts growing and tender, filled with milk for his children. That was hot. It was making a familiar tingle slither across his chest and downwards.

“So? Can I?” He inquired, rather impatiently.

“Uh, yeah-..I…okay.” You nod. Still in shock that this was even happening.

“Don’t sound very sure.” Tightening his grip, he pushes you closer to him and you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your core, the small ball of tension forming right under his crotch.

“Yes. Yes, put a baby in me, now.”

“Say please, Doll.”

…………………………………………………………………………………..…………...………..

Part 2…? 🤨

Part 2 is now out!

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ … 99% NOT LOVE ! | kinich x gn!reader

— in which two people notice what two people don't .

— i've gone absolutely batshit over him your honour. im going to now start writing for kinich like a crazed man dying of thirst in the desert. let it be known that streamer!au kinich, enemies to lovers with poacher mc and other ideas are coming up (no im not cheating on xiao shush)

mualani notices it.

"hehe."

and you hear it.

"so! there's a little..." she stares at you with the most serious face you've ever seen on the girl, acting suspiciously unlike herself. gesturing at you with exaggerated hand movements, then pointing toward who knows where, she eyes you. mischievously. "something that's 'going on', yea?"

and at first, you have absolutely no clue what she could be referring to. mualani is a sociable person, after all. her definition of "something" could range anywhere between a particularly cute baby saurian to an out-of-control-bonfire turned wildfire.

with the only eventful thing today being a brief morning surf session with sharky, you just sat there, never having felt more lost.

mualani grabs your shoulders in an iron grip, leaning forward to the point she's almost beginning to seem menacing. you can see the moment where she tries to think over something (which she never does quite successfully) before she straight up shouts:

"ah!! i'll just spell it out for you!! you. and kinich. bestie. spill."

.

.

.

ajaw did more than just "notice" it.

"you..! kIINICH, did you seriously have to-"

"noisy."

"selfish assh- ALMIGHTY DRAGONLORD K'UHUL AJAW HAS HAD ENOUGH OF THE DISRESPECT! TIME AND TIME AGAIN, yOU'VE-"

"once again, ajaw. be quiet."

"sure sure, and pretend i didn't see you and that someone do a little smoochy-smooch, huh?! UGH, now you've asked for it- KINICH AND LOVEY DOVEY, SITTIN' IN A TREE, K-I-S-S-I-N-"

ajaw was what you would call a "witness". though, most would use that term in regards to one seeing a crime or heinous event take place — this event was nothing of that nature.

well, as far as kinich was concerned, the matter was simple. you'd ventured all the way to scions of the canopy to give him a gift, (claiming it was for the time he'd helped you after a couple of yumkausarus hadn't enjoyed your fruit offering and instead decided to off you), and he'd refused to accept it. he wasn't one to receive reimbursement for others, and he didn't particularly like talking either — it was a well-known fact, almost law in natlan, that if the malipo ignored your words, all you need do was apologize and continue on.

well, you did exactly the opposite.

"no thanks."

"...sorry?"

"i don't need it."

"haha, so 'malipo' kinich's rumored no-nonsense nature really proved to be true! now come over here so i can give you my fucking gift!"

you were rather adamant about giving it to him. the reason? you'd bought the gift on a whim after seeing it being sold by a passing merchant, advertised as "80% only today if you buy within the next like 4 minutes" and you'd immediately dropped every mora you had. it was the most useless little thing ever, and you didn't want it at this point, but.. the deals. how could you return such an item???

naturally, you handed it off to the man you'd seen for a good two minutes before he flew, or did whatever his thing was, away. the man had remembered furrowing his brows the slightest, listening to ajaw's persistent yellings of "IT'S AN OFFERING TO ME, TAKE IT" and feeling an oncoming headache. "i said i didn't.."

as he turned to walk away, three unfortunate(?) things occured.

a rock under your shoe and a very graceful process of falling to the ground

kinich looking back (his mistake)

a kiss...?

oh, and two extra.

4. ajaw had saw it all. 5. and mualani, who had saw you from a distance and was coming to greet you, was faced with a sight she could not process.

...Now that he thought over it again, was the matter really "simple"? kinich's job was what he considered simple — split 70% to investigation, 10% to final decision, and 10% to execution, well portioned and planned out.

then, this...

.

.

.

"girlie, you've seriously got the wrong idea. i'm telling you, we aren't dating!"

"mmmokay. of course! because not-dating people kiss allll the time!"

you paused for a moment, remembering kinich's even tone, stern gaze, and... ah, a face that deserved a gold medal.

"it's only 99% not love, okay mualani? but if it wasn't..."

.

.

.

"... and it's 99% not love, ajaw."

(a/n) darling im back from jail part 2. daddys home part 2. not funny? ok. HIHIHIHI ive bene really built like a sun dried raisin lately but kinich is the healing holy water that has saved me i will write more for him in the future because i love him a stupid amount its like the first time in a decade I've written for just ONE character and AND AND

I THOUGHT HE WOULDNT OCME HOME BECAUSE I ONLY HAD 68 WISHES OUT OF MY ORIGINAL LIKE 100+ AND RUINED MY CHANCES BECAUSE OF REALLY REALLY WANTING MuALANI (i love her sm) BUT. BUT BRO CAME HOME. ON THE FIRST 10 PULL AND WON THE 50/50 JUST LIKE MUALANI DID (or is it 45/55 now idk) LIVE LAUGH LOVE KINICH !!

[ tags: ] @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu-archive, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @aioniela, @avensuersa, @dainsleif-when-playable, @intpessimistic

( dm or comment to be added ! i might miss ur comment so just to be sure, leave a comment on the actual masterlists page on my pinned ^ ^ )

[kookslastbutton]

what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[lotusunique]

Kiss & Makeup

The reader and Nicholas get into a petty argument they decide to squash one way or another.

Nicholas Chavez x Fem! Reader!

Smut Warning, Praise Kink!

You silently held your breath ,seething with rage. You knew Nicholas could tell you were pissed off. The silence that consumed the black suburban truck on the ride to you guys shared house was obvious enough.

“Are you gonna talk or just continue with the silent treatment ?”, he asks following you into the house.

“Depends. You gonna pretend like you weren’t eye fucking the waitress back there?”, you say, not looking at him and placing your bag onto the counter top of your kitchen .

“Oh my god. Here we go with the jealousy.” , He rolls his eyes. “So I’m jealous because you like to eye fuck waitresses while I’m sitting right across from you?”,You let out a loud cackle. Stunned at the audacity he had.

“Y/n. She was taking our order. All she did was bring out our food. You’re always acting crazy”,He groans. “Now you’re saying I’m a crazy bitch. Got you”,You nod before giving a tight lipped smile and grabbing a bottle of wine from your liquor cabinet. The only thing that might make you calm down was a glass of red. He lets out a scoff

“I am so sick of this petty bullshit Y/n.”,He yells over at you. “And you don’t think I’m sick of your bullshit. You think cause you’re soooo’ fine you can do whatever the fuck you want”,you yell back before chugging the wine.

“I never said I can do whatever I wanted. You really think that just because girls flirt with me that it means I’m gonna go be with them?”, he runs his hands through his hair, obviously stressed by the conversation.

You make your way over to him, “And I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth.”, you step into his space. You see him go to open his mouth with a smile on his face before he closes it. “Don’t”,you warn him.

“All that jealousy shit is just rooted in the idea that you don’t think anyone can love you.”,he fires back. You eye him, letting your mouth drop open.

“You know what Nicholas. Fuck you”, the bitter words drip off your tongue . “No, Y/n. Fuck you.”,he shouts. It only takes a second for you to realize how attractive he looks. You forgot he was sexy when he’s mad.

The air thickens as the tension between you two surrounds you. Within an instant he smashes his lips against yours, your hands making their way through his hair as his make their way down your body.

You feel his hands at the brim of your thighs and a loud rip at the bottom of your dress. You pull away from his kiss before raising an eyebrow.

He leans into you, his lips brushing softly against your ear and cheek.“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ll buy you a new one”,He says before making a trail of soft kisses down your neck while ripping up the dress again.

He softly rubs his fingers against your pussy lips before entering two into you, causing you to let out a loud moan. He quickens the pace, watching you become a mess all at his hands.

He picks you up, and lays you on the granite kitchen island before starting the process all over again. “Mannn nobody eating on here for weeks”, you think to yourself, internally chuckling.

This time he attaches his mouth to your clit, sucking whilst putting two fingers into you like before. It drives you crazy and causes you to scream out in pleasure. “Fuck! Yes oh Yes!”,you yell out as your orgasm comes to a crashing high.

“You okay baby?”,he laughs at the state your in. “Un huh. I’m great”,you breathe heavily. “Okay good”,He smiles a mischievous look spreading across his face.

He lines himself up at your entrance, flashing you a look to make sure you’re ok with this.

You nod, giving him an “I’m sure” look.

He traces his tip up and down the opening your pussy.

“Please stop teasing me”,You plead, impatiently wanting him. “You’re so pretty when you beg”, he smiles looking down at you. “Let me hear it one more time gorgeous and I’ll consider it.”,he flashes those perfect teeth of his down at you.

He enters you slowly at first before picking up the pace,causing you to let out multiple moans as he lets out a few groans.

You arch your back as the pulsing sensation overtakes your body, your pussy clenching at the rough yet amazing feeling. The feeling seemed to be over taking your body as every inch went further and further inside you.

“This is what you wanted right baby?”,he says sensing you’re getting closer and closer. “Yes Baby.”,you struggle to voice. “It’s okay gorgeous you can let it out”,he smiles down, watching the sight of you.

“You look so pretty when you take it”, He places a kiss upon your lips and that’s all it takes to send your orgasmto screaming high.

His does the same as the two of you pant and attempt to catch your breath.

“Whew”, you sit up, hugging him tightly. “Bet you the waitress wishes she was me just now because damn”,You laugh aloud.

“Would you hush and kiss me woman.”, Nicholas smiles at you before you lean up to kiss him.

Hey guys! I have 2-3 more coming out! I hope you guys liked this one ♥️🙂

Taglist: @penny44224 @luv-alicia @syraxnyra @piscesprincessworld @vdotcom @aaliyahsroses @tragicdiary @scknights @aegonsslxt @kingdomswifft @jaylalolz @elthoughtzos

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 17: Alone

Summary: Your pack has left on their first deployment since you joined them, leaving you alone on base.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,866

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, ANGST, anxiety, fear, nightmares, PTSD, trauma, just super depressing overall.

A/N: I'm so ready for these next two chapters, you have no idea. Things are happening, things are gonna happen, it's just...so good. You'll see 🤭. They're pretty heavy chapters emotionally, but don't worry fluff will be coming very soon. I won't leave you hanging too much for too long.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

“We'll only be gone for a few days. A week at most. Dr. Keller will take you to and from meals and anywhere else you may need to go. If you need anything, contact Kate. We'll call when we can.” 

He leaves you with a kiss to your forehead. You’re forced to stand there and watch his back as he boards the plane, the ramp closing and sealing you off from them. They all looked guilty, as if it was their fault they had to leave, as if they were suffering as much as you at the idea of parting, even just for a short period of time.

You don't sleep that night. You lay in your bed and stare at the ceiling until far too late when you decide to abandon it for John's room instead. You slip under the covers, disrupting the immaculately made bed as you surround yourself with his scent. You’re on edge, the barracks far too quiet, far too empty. Every little sound has you tensing, holding your breath. The door is locked, yet it’s not the same without your pack there to protect you. If you scream, no one will hear you now. 

You manage to fall asleep at some point in the early hours, your mind plagued with horrible nightmares of monsters devouring and tearing you apart. 

You wake with the sun, dragging your feet back to your room. You miss the quiet sounds of your boys getting ready in the morning after their workouts, taking extra care not to be too loud. Now you wish for it. You want them to be loud and wake you, because then they’d be here with you. The hallway feels too empty, the barracks too large. You’ve spent plenty of time alone in the barracks, but it’s never felt like this. They’re not just across base from you, they’re probably in an entirely different country. 

You stare at their closed doors, all four of them feeling like voids knowing the rooms behind them are empty. Even Ghost’s closed door feels particularly empty. 

You shuffle into your room, locking the door behind you as you get ready for the day. You’re not quite sure what you’re going to do, now that you don’t have them around. You suppose you could just go about your day as you usually do while they’re at training, except you won’t have their inevitable return to fetch you for meals to look forward to. 

It’ll be days before you see them again. 

If you see them again. 

You force that thought back into the recesses of your mind. You won’t entertain it, not now while you’re still trying to process the fact that they’re gone. Even if it is a possibility. 

You’re sitting on your bed when the knock comes, clutching your phone in your hand. You don’t want to be without it, in case they call. You don’t want to miss a chance to talk to them, especially if it’s your only chance. Or a call from Kate telling you something happened.

You open the door, Dr. Keller standing in the hallway with a small smile on her face. It doesn’t feel strange having her in this space, even with the rest of your pack gone. She’s been here before, and you trust her. 

“How are you doing?” She asks as you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. 

“I don’t know.” You say, letting out a sigh. “I couldn’t sleep last night.” 

“I don’t blame you. Feels strange, being alone here, huh?” 

You nod. “Yeah. It’s too quiet. Too empty.” 

“I bet.” You follow her out of the barracks and into the cool morning air. “Let’s get some food in you and then you can take it easy for the rest of the day. I know this is a big adjustment, and it happened rather suddenly.” 

“Was gonna happen eventually, though.” You say. “For the three months I was with the CIA, they drilled it into my head that their job would always take priority over everything else. Still sucks.” 

“It does. Separation is hard for everyone in a pack, even if it’s short term. Add on the stress of their jobs and I can only imagine what it’s like.” 

“I’m trying not to think about that.” You say. 

“I think that’s the best thing you can do right now.” She squeezes your arm. “Come on, we’ll get the food to go and we’ll eat in my office. I usually do that anyway. It’s much quieter than the mess.” 

You get your breakfast, following Dr. Keller to the medical center. You are silently glad you won’t have to eat in the mess without the protection of your pack. The stares from the others might have been your tipping point, and without Ghost to scare them off, you’re sure it would have only been worse.  

“Make yourself at home.” Dr. Keller says, letting you into her office. “You can sit at the desk to eat, if that’s more comfortable. I don’t mind.” 

You take her up on the offer, sitting in the chair across from hers at the desk. She moves some papers out of the way before taking a seat herself. It feels almost strange, being so informal in her office, but then again, she’s always been more laid back with the formality between the two of you. 

“If there’s one thing I miss, it’s good diner food.” Dr. Keller says as the two of you begin to eat. 

You stare down at your porridge for a moment, having gotten used to the change in food over the last almost nine weeks. “I miss a lot of things.” 

“Would you ever want to go back and visit America?” Dr. Keller asks. 

You shrug. “I don’t know.” 

“I’m sure they’d take you, if you asked.” She smiles as you stare up at her in surprise. “I don’t think there’s much they wouldn’t do, if you asked. They care about you a lot.” 

“I’m starting to realize that.” You say. 

“Good. It’s reassuring to see such strong, natural bonds forming between all of you, despite how the situation came about. You’ve made a lot of good progress already, even with the few bumps in the road.” 

It falls silent between the two of you as you eat, finishing your breakfast. Your stomach churns with anxiety, hand closing around the phone in your pocket as if it might ring at any moment. It makes you sick, the thought of what they might be doing, what might be happening right at this very moment. 

“Can I ask you something?” You break the silence, needing to take your mind off your swirling thoughts. 

“Of course.” She says, looking up from the papers she’d been looking through. 

“Since I’m your only patient, what do you do all day?” You ask. 

She smiles. “I do a lot of things. After our sessions I log the notes I take and read over them, I make sure your medical chart is up to date, I read through a lot of studies and journals on new research and methods that may be helpful, I talk to colleagues all over the world, including here on base, and I sometimes go around the medical center and sit in on meetings and classes to keep my skills sharp.” 

“Do you ever feel like you’re wasting your skills here?” 

She shakes her head. “No. Before I took this job, I was caring for sometimes over one hundred omegas at various institutes. It was a high stress environment with long hours. While it was fulfilling work, there’s a high turnover rate for Omega Specialists in that field for a reason. Being a private doctor is a bit of a relief after that, and truthfully, the pay is considerably better.” She folds her arms on her desk, leaning forward. “It’s no less fulfilling than working at institutes. It’s nice to have the time to put together the best care plan for you and your needs.” 

“It is nice having an Omega Specialist to myself.” You say. “There were several at the institute, a lot of students doing their residency. They weren’t always...good at their jobs. A lot of them were just going through the motions, doing what the more experienced specialists told them to do.” 

“Unfortunately that’s rather common with residents.” She says. “Most of them don’t make it past residency. Like a lot of specialities in medicine, it takes a certain kind of personality to succeed as an Omega Specialist. Not everyone has it in them. I wish more schools and programs would take notice earlier before they get to their residencies and steer them down a different path.” She smiles at you. “Now my question for you. Would you rather hang out in here today, or would you prefer to go back to the barracks? You won’t hurt my feelings either way, nor will you be a bother.” 

You think about it for a moment. While your knee jerk answer is to go back to the barracks, what are you going to do? Sit alone in the silence and worry until it makes you sick? Sit in the rec room and watch TV alone and worry about your boys until the next meal time? As much as you want to be alone, you also don’t want to be alone. 

“I’d...like to stay here, if that’s okay?” You finally say, making your decision. 

“More than okay.” She smiles. “Make yourself at home, do whatever you’d like. Watch YouTube videos, dig into some books, take a nap. You won’t bother me in the slightest. You’re always welcome to hang out in here.” 

You look over the titles on the bookshelf, picking one that looks interesting before settling on the couch. You spend the day with Dr. Keller, relaxing in her office and going to meals with her. It doesn’t calm the anxious thoughts by much, but at least the loneliness is abated a bit. 

You return to the barracks after dinner, debating whether you should sit in the rec room or just go to your room. The rec room feels too open, too exposed without the safety of your pack, so instead you choose to retreat into your room, locking the door behind you. 

You let out a sigh, your shoulders slumping as tears gather in your eyes. Another night without them, another night without the safety and comfort of their presence around you. Another night knowing they’re not on the other side of the wall, a knock or a yell away. 

You fight the panic starting to bubble as you get ready for bed, your mind swirling with thoughts of something happening, someone breaking in, someone taking advantage of their absence to get to you. You know it’s an irrational fear. Most of the alphas on base ignore your existence, aside from the couple incidents you’ve had with them. The most they do is stare, though that’s to be expected as an omega. 

What if they’re holding back something more sinister, though? What if the only thing stopping them is your pack? This would be their opportune moment. 

You’re shaking, eyes wide in fear as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Sure, you’ve learned a few ways to defend yourself, but could you really utilize them? If the moment called for it, could you defend yourself enough to get away? Where would you go? Dr. Keller won’t be in her office all night. Could you run and seek protection from another medical professional that was still working? Could you find a different high ranking official on base and hope they’d help you? Could you go for the guards at the gate and hope they help you? 

Or would it be safer to run for the woods? Try to lose whichever alpha decided to attack you and hope you don’t get lost in the trees? You would just have to survive the night, and Dr. Keller would notice you missing come morning. What would she do, though? Call Kate? It’s not like the guys could just come home and help you. Would Kate even tell them something happened and put them at risk of getting distracted? What if something happened to them because of you? 

You turn the shower on as cold as it will go, stepping under the spray in your pajamas. You sink to the floor of the shower, letting the cold water snap you out of your panic and prevent you from distressing. No one’s coming through the door, no one’s going to try and hurt you. 

Your teeth are chattering by the time you reach up to turn the water off. Violent shivers rock your body, your hands and feet numb. You take deep breaths, feeling more awake and aware than you have since yesterday. 

The panic has dropped to almost nothing, your shaking now due to the fact you’re freezing. You strip out of your wet clothes, leaving them in the tub as you wrap a towel around yourself. You’re still shivering violently as you change into warmer pajamas, opting for one of John’s shirts and sweatpants. 

You slip under the covers of your bed, piling every blanket you own on top of the covers before tucking yourself against your giant bear. You won’t sleep, but at least you’re not panicking anymore. 

The days begin to blend together without the routine of your pack to keep you steady. Dr. Keller comes to get you at the same time as you expect for your breakfast, and then you spend all day with her, sitting in her office, keeping yourself occupied while you wait for an inevitable phone call. It will either be your pack calling to check on you, or it will be Kate with bad news. 

You’re not sure which is worse. The anticipation of a call from your pack letting you know they’re all alright, or the dread that it will be Kate telling you something happened to them. 

You’re still not sleeping well, the anxiety and the worry you might miss their call meshing with the nightmares that were already plaguing you before they left. You’re exhausted and strung out, the worry beginning to eat you alive. You’re constantly on edge, every little sound close to sending you spiraling. 

Your thoughts have slowly shifted from missing your pack to ruminating about the fact they might not be coming back. It’s a risk you’re well aware of. The kinds of things they do put them at risk, every deployment carries the risk of one, or all of them, dying. One thing goes wrong, one small freak accident and your entire pack could be taken from you. 

You’re not sure you’d survive that. 

Most omegas don’t. 

“Still nothing?” Dr. Keller asks as you sit there, staring at your phone for what must have been an hour at least. 

You shake your head. “Nothing.” 

“Sometimes no news is good news.” She says. “I know you’d prefer to have any news at all, though.” 

“I can’t stop thinking...what if something bad has happened?” You say, fingers trembling from gripping your phone so hard. 

“Kate promised she’d call if something happened, right?”

You nod. “Yeah.” 

“She’s a woman of her word, I can say that much. I’m sure they’re fine. They’re very capable soldiers. They wouldn’t be in Spec Ops if they weren’t, much less on a highly specialized team.” Dr. Keller stands up, moving to the closet. “It’s still hard, not knowing where they are or what they’re doing. I remember when my brother told our parents he was enlisting. Our mother cried for a week straight.” She pulls a pillow and a blanket out of the closet. “I still don’t think she’s completely forgiven him. It’s hard for omegas when someone leaves the pack, even temporarily, especially if you can’t have constant reassurance that they’re alright.” 

Your brows pinch in a frown at her words as she kneels on the floor beside the couch. “Your mom was an omega?” 

She nods. “And dad was a beta. Wound up with two beta children, though I don’t think mom complained much about that. We grew up in a big pack with lots of people around us. I think mom would have been worse off if it had just been her and dad.” She sets the pillow on the couch, gently prying the phone from your fingers. “Come on, lay down.” She directs you. 

You do as she says, laying down on the couch, resting your head on the pillow. She covers you with the blanket, tucking it up around your neck. “Is that why you’re so good at this job?” 

She smiles, setting your phone on the arm of the couch above your head. “Maybe. I think it gave me more empathy for omegas and the struggles you face every day.” She gently squeezes your arm. “They’ll be alright. They’re probably just as worried about you, as you are them. But, you need to get some rest. You don’t have to sleep, just laying with your eyes closed will help.” 

You tilt your head, glancing up at your phone. “What if I fall asleep and it rings?” 

“Then I’ll make sure you get a chance to answer it.” She says, squeezing your arm again. “I promise. Get some rest.” 

You let out a breath, not wanting to risk falling asleep, but you close your eyes anyway. It doesn’t stop the thoughts from coming on, the nightmarish images the anxiety feeds your brain flashing before your eyes. What if they’re lying dead somewhere right now? What if something’s happened to Kate and she can’t tell you? Would you ever find out? Would you ever know? 

Despite the anxiety prickling through your body, the warmth of the blanket begins to lull you into a false sense of security. Perhaps it’s the sheer exhaustion from your lack of sleep over the last couple weeks, paired with the exhaustion from your constant worrying, but you find yourself slipping between sleep and consciousness as you lay there on Dr. Keller’s couch. You don’t mean to, but you can’t help it as you begin to drift off to sleep. 

Screaming. It’s loud, piercing your ears. Something’s holding you, hands clutching at your form desperately. It hurts, nails biting into your skin, fingers gripping too hard, yet you don’t care. 

“You won’t take her from me! I won’t let you!”

You’re crying, sobs wracking your body as you cling just as tightly to the form holding you. 

Hands grab at you, squeezing and pulling, trying to free you from the constricting grip around you, but it won’t let go. You cling to it just as desperately, afraid of what will happen if you let go. 

You know what will happen if you let go. 

“She’s no daughter of mine.” 

The words bite into you, slicing through your skin straight into your very soul, the prickling pain of your own flesh and blood rejecting you making your skin crawl. How could he just let you go like that? How could he turn against you so easily, over something you have no control over? 

Pain erupts across your entire body. Something snaps, your ears ringing from more screams. You’re being pulled away from the safety of the hold around you, your body going cold as the warmth around you disappears. Hands close around you, fingers ripping into you as you're torn from your mother’s hold and into the unknown. 

“Easy, easy.” 

You’re gasping, breathing wheezing as tears choke you. 

“Deep breaths. In and out, nice and slow.” 

Your breath hitches, catching painfully in your chest. 

“You’re alright, you’re safe.” 

You force your eyes open, blinded by tears as something is tucked into your arms. You squeeze the bear against your chest, hiccuping as you fight for control over your emotions. You’re on the couch in Dr. Keller’s office still. You’re not at what was once your home, not stuck in the nightmare you’ve lived over and over. 

Slowly breathing becomes easier, your sobs quieting to sniffles. The tears still spill down your cheeks, dampening the fur of the bear in your arms. 

“You’re alright,” Dr. Keller says, rubbing your back gently. 

You slowly push yourself up to sit, pulling your knees against your chest. You press your palms into your eyes, trying to get the tears to stop. Dr. Keller shifts her position, sitting next to you on the couch. 

“How long have you been having nightmares?” She asks quietly, watching you as you try to calm yourself. 

“Since my heat.” You say, voice rough from crying. You wrap your arms around the bear again, holding onto it tightly. 

“You haven’t said anything about it.” She says gently, shifting slightly so she’s facing you. 

“I didn’t want to.” You say quietly, shame burning through you. She’s not reprimanding you, yet you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. “I shouldn’t be having them, I mean...it’s not even that bad compared to...compared to what the others have gone through. The kinds of nightmares they have.” 

“It might seem that way to you, but trauma is still trauma. It might not be the worst thing someone else has gone through, but it is the worst thing you’ve been through.” 

Her words give you pause. You’ve never quite thought of it that way. The kinds of things your pack does, the things they’ve seen, the things they’ve done, are far worse than anything you’ve experienced. The things you’ve experienced may pale in comparison, but they’re your experiences. No one else’s. 

“If you want to talk about them, that’s what I’m here for.” Dr. Keller says, leaving things open for you to decide what to do. 

You don’t have to tell her. She won’t force you to do it. She won’t force you to do anything, to say anything you don’t want to. It might be nice, though, to let someone know, someone neutral, someone who won’t tell anyone else. It might be nice to finally put into words the things that are eating you, have been eating you. 

You lay back down, curling up into a tight ball on the couch. You hug the bear close to your chest, letting it ground you. “My nightmares, they’re always about the day I left for the institute.” You start, taking a shaky breath. “I haven’t had them in years.” 

“You were sent early after your presentation, right?” She asks. 

“The day after.” You answer. 

“Being sent to an institute can be traumatic when done within the normal time after presentation. I can’t even imagine what being sent that soon was like.” She lets out a breath. “Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, the brain and body hold onto it, because we don’t feel safe enough to process it in the moment. The brain can hold onto it for years, until we finally feel safe enough. Then the brain can start to try and heal from that trauma without us even realizing it.” 

“You think that’s what’s happening?” You ask. 

“It’s possible. Going through your heat successfully, being claimed, building close bonds with your pack, all could aid in helping you finally feel safe enough to process that trauma. Things usually feel worse as the brain works through the trauma, which could be why you’re having nightmares about that event suddenly.” 

“Is there anything that will make them stop?” You ask. 

“There’s some things we can do together that might help the process. I’m more than happy to help you with it, if that’s what you’d like to do. If you decide to, I think it will be a good idea to set up appointments at least twice a week, at least at first.” 

“What are we gonna tell John?” 

She gives you a look. “Well, I’d advise telling him the truth. I think you should tell your pack about your nightmares. They can at least offer you some comfort and understanding. Of course, that’s entirely up to you and what you want to do.” 

You let out a sigh, getting comfortable on the couch again. Dr. Keller adjusts the blanket over you, squeezing your arm gently. 

“Think about it.” She says. “We can talk about it more after they get back and things have settled back to normal again.” 

You’re brushing your teeth when the call comes. You quickly spit into the sink, not even bothering to rinse your mouth before you’re answering, anxiety twisting your stomach into knots. You hadn’t even checked the screen to see who was calling. You’re just anxious to hear from someone after days of silence. 

“Hello?” 

There’s a beat of silence before the voice on the other side responds, the audio distant and slightly garbled, but you hardly notice. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” 

You fight back a sob, your inhale shaky as relief floods through you. “Alpha.” The title slips through your lips before you can even catch it, your body nearly vibrating at hearing John’s voice after so many days. 

“I’m here. We’re all here.” He says, distant voices sounding in the background. 

A smile tugs at your lips, happy tears blurring your eyes as you collapse on your bed. “Missed you.” 

“I know, we’ve missed you too.” 

You move to your bed, flopping down on the mattress in relief. “You alright? Is everyone alright?” 

“We’re alright. Few bumps and bruises, but nothing we haven’t had before. How are you holding up?” 

The urge to spill the truth to him is strong. You’ve been depressed and worried and there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by that you haven’t panicked about something. You’ve been having horrible nightmares and haven’t been sleeping. There’s an ache in your chest that won’t go away, and you’re afraid it might kill you if you don’t see them soon. 

“I’m alright. Sad cause I miss you a lot.” 

“I know, sweetheart.” There’s a sound on the other end, something you can’t make out and the line buzzes for a second. For a moment you’re worried you were disconnected, but John’s voice cuts through the noise again. “We’re finishing up here soon, and we’ll be home in a couple of days.” 

You can’t help but sigh in relief at his words. They’re alright. They’re all safe, and they’re going to be home soon. You’re going to get to see them soon, touch them again, smell them again. “Hurry back.” You say, your voice shaky with emotion. 

“We’ll try, sweet girl. We have to get going, but we’ll be back before you know it.” 

Saying goodbye doesn't hurt as much as you expect it to. Maybe it’s the relief from hearing their voices, from knowing they’re really alright paired with the knowledge that they’ll be home soon. Two days doesn’t seem so far now that you know that’s all that stands between you and seeing your pack again. 

You roll over in your bed, pressing your face into the pillows. Nothing smells like them anymore. Not their shirts that they scented before they left, not your pillows or stuffed animals. The couch in the rec room, and even John’s bed have started to smell more like you. 

The first thing you’re going to do when they return is get a big whiff of each of them, even if you have to tackle Ghost to do it. You want to refresh their scents all over everything, roll around in them until they’re the only thing you can smell. 

For the first time in days, you manage to sleep that night. It’s not much, but it’s a deep, nightmare-free sleep, aided by the relief from the constant anxiety that has plagued you. 

You update Dr. Keller the next day on the news of your pack’s imminent return. You elect to spend the afternoon in the barracks instead of her office, the building suddenly not seeming quite so empty now that you know they’re coming home soon. You clean up John’s room, making his bed again after you’d made a mess of it trying to sleep. They’re all going to be tired when they return, and you want to help them in any way that you can. You pick up your room as well, even though you know you likely won’t be spending much time in it for a while. You’re going to latch yourself onto them and not let go until the ache in your chest has disappeared. 

You bristle when the knock sounds at your door. You glance up from where you had been sorting the clothes you’d stolen from the guys from your own so you can get them to scent them again. You’re not expecting a knock yet. It’s too early to be Dr. Keller coming to get you for dinner, and she would have announced herself like she has been, if it was her. 

That means someone else is in the barracks. Someone you don’t know. 

Your mind races as you try to think of who it could be. You don’t know many others on base, and certainly no one that would enter the barracks just like that, unless it’s an emergency. Is there an emergency? You’re almost certain if there was an emergency on base, then there would be alarms going off or something. There’d be some sign that something was happening, but it’s quiet outside, or at least, there’s no noises you’re not expecting. 

The knock comes again, louder and sharper. Whoever is on the other side is obviously not going to just go away. You debate calling Dr. Keller, telling her someone is outside your door, getting her to help you on this, but instead you grab your phone, holding it in your hand as you move towards the door. 

You unlock it, holding your hand on the handle in case the person on the other side tries to force their way in. They don’t, so you open it slowly, just enough that you can see out. There’s a soldier outside your door. A woman. You don’t recognize her, but then again you don’t see many women on the base, and you don’t pay much attention to the other soldiers. 

Maybe you need to start paying more attention. 

She’s a beta, you can tell just by looking at her. She’s wearing scent blockers, keeping her scent from projecting into the barracks to erase the fact she was here. 

She says your name, staring at you with hard set eyes. “General Shepherd is waiting for you.” 

It takes you a moment to process what it is she’s saying. You’ve never met any of the higher ups on base. The person with the most authority you’ve met is John, but you know he’s only a Captain. There’s others above him, but you weren’t any concern of theirs, so you have never bothered to meet them. Even in your time with the CIA, the person with the most authority that you met seemed to be Kate. You hadn’t even been given names of anyone higher up than her. 

Apparently something’s changed. 

Something in the back of your mind begins to tingle. Something isn’t right about this. You should have called Dr. Keller, or even Kate. You shouldn’t have opened the door so recklessly. 

“But, I’m not supposed to-” You begin, unsure of what to do now. 

“It’s a direct order from your superior.” The woman cuts you off, her tone sharp and impatient.

You’re not a soldier. The only superior you have is John and he’s certainly not behind this. 

You wouldn’t dare say that out loud. Not right now. 

“Okay, okay.” You say, stepping back slightly from the door. “Let me just get some shoes on.” 

You close the door, staring down at your phone. You debate calling Dr. Keller or even just sending a text, but you don’t put it past the woman outside to barge in if you don’t hurry. You can feel the panic rising, the thought of someone invading your space so carelessly making the back of your neck tingle. So instead you slip on a pair of shoes, shoes you know you can run in, before you open the door again. 

She’s still standing in the hallway, stiffly at attention. Her gaze pierces into you, making your skin crawl. You close your door behind you, slipping your phone into your pocket. She doesn't say anything as she turns on her heel, walking down the hallway towards the door. You follow behind her, having to walk quickly to keep up with her. You’re reminded of your early days on the base when you would be escorted around by Ghost. 

You’d take those times back over this right now. 

Your palms start to sweat as you leave the barracks, dread starting to fill your stomach as you realize how much of a mistake you’ve made, leaving with this stranger. She could be taking you anywhere to see anyone. You’re not even sure General Shepherd is a real person. 

The thought of being led blindly into a room of alphas like a lamb being led into a den of hungry wolves nearly makes you panic, your steps faltering just slightly as you debate running. You could make it to the medical center quickly from here if you sprint the entire way. Would she chase you if you took off running? Would you get in trouble? Would the guys get in trouble if you did? 

You don’t want anyone to get in trouble. 

Especially not with this being the first time you’ve been on your own. They’ve put a lot of trust in both you and Dr. Keller in their absence. If you get into trouble while they’re gone, that might change things. You could ruin everything you’ve built by misbehaving. 

The woman leads you to a building you haven’t been in before, leading you down a clinical-looking hallway to a door. She pauses in front of it, turning to face you. You stare at her, still on edge. What if this is a test? What if they’re testing you to see if you’d just blindly leave with a stranger while they’re not there to protect you. 

You’ve made a big mistake. 

The woman holds out her hand, and you stare down at it dumbly. “Your phone.” 

You continue to stare at her hand for a moment, trying to swallow the nervous panic rising within you. You don’t have much of a choice now but to obey. Your hands are shaking as you pass your phone over, the woman pocketing it before she opens the door. 

It’s bright inside, the LED bulbs burning your eyes. You’re uncomfortable and uneasy, a dangerous mix for an omega, but the person inside doesn’t seem to care. He stands from his seat, towering over you. He screams alpha before his scent even hits you. You’re thrown back into the memories of your father, the way he carried himself, the way he stood. Back straight like a rod, hands clasped behind his back, face pressed into a stern line. 

He’s in uniform, decorated with more patches and pins than you could put a name to. Army, you think, judging by the color of his jacket. It looks like General Shepherd is a real person after all. 

You try not to flinch as the door clicks closed behind you, sealing you in this room with an unknown alpha. Though it’s only one, you still feel like the helpless lamb standing before a hungry wolf. 

No one will hear you scream. No one will care. 

“My name is General Shepherd.” He says, his voice gruff and laced with authority. “I am the acting commander of Task Force 141.” 

You’re not sure if you should say anything, or even bother introducing yourself. He probably already knows you well, even though you’ve never met him before in your life. 

“I was one of the driving forces behind the omega initiative, and I decided the 141 should be one of the first to participate. I also signed the approval for you to be assigned as their omega, did you know that?” 

You shake your head. “N-No sir, the CIA didn’t give me any names.” 

“Good.” His lips twitch in what you assume was supposed to be a smile. It doesn’t ease your nerves any. “They weren’t supposed to. I’m sure you’ve learned that confidentiality is everything in this line of work.” 

“Yes, sir.” You try not to flinch under his gaze, piercing and probing. The back of your neck is tingling, every single instinct in your body screaming at you to run, to escape, to get somewhere safe. 

“I came here today to ensure your pack was doing as they were instructed. I’m impressed with what I’ve seen so far. You’re getting along well with them?” 

You nod again. “Yes, sir. There were some...bumps along the way, but we all get along fine now.” 

“Good.” He closes the file on the table, taking a step closer to you. You fight the urge to take a step back, not wanting him to invade your space while you’re so vulnerable. “The success of this program is imperative to the future of the military and its functionality. You’re doing important work here with the Task Force.” His hand lifts, slowly pulling the collar of your shirt to the side so he can see your mating mark. 

You fight the urge to lift your hands and wrap them around the back of your neck, the instinctual urge to protect yourself nearly winning out as he stares at your mark. Your heart is pounding in your chest, the fear-driven adrenaline making your fingers tremble. Half a second and he could scruff you, half a second and he could overpower you. 

No one would know. No one would care.  

“I’m satisfied with what I’m seeing so far. Of course, the true measure of success will be their efficiency in their current task.” He steps back away from you, moving back to the table. “How have you been adjusting to them being gone?” 

“It’s been difficult,” You say, breathing for a second to collect yourself. “But I know separation can be a rough adjustment at first.” 

His lips twitch again in a twisted smile. “You’re a smart girl. That’s why I chose you for this position. You’re doing good work. Your efforts will change the course of military history, hopefully for the better.” 

Something about his words don’t sit right with you. 

You’re trembling as you exit the room, led out by the woman that had brought you to the building. Your breaths are heavy as you try to keep a grip on the anxiety threatening to overtake you. Your hand is trembling uncontrollably as she give you your phone back, your knuckles going white as you clutch it to your chest. You’re sweating, the cool air chilling your skin as you step outside. 

You barely remember the walk back to the barracks, numbly following the woman as she leads you back to your safe space. It doesn't feel so safe anymore, now that she’s breached it. She entered without permission, breaking that trust that’s so sacred to packs. 

She doesn't even seem bothered by it. 

She pauses outside the door to the barracks, staring down at you. You fight the urge to race inside and lock yourself in the safety of your room before she can change her mind and enter again, or take you somewhere worse. You stand your ground, meeting her gaze. 

“Thank you for your cooperation.” She says, as monotone as she had been the first time she spoke to you. 

You finally realize what it was that made her seem so off to you as you think over her words. 

She’s American. 

“Thank you for escorting me.” You say politely, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Have a safe trip home.” 

You quickly enter the barracks, speed walking down the hall towards your room. You want to burrow under your covers and hide until the guys return and you can feel safe again. You pause in front of your door, staring down at the handle. The back of your neck is prickling again, anxiety burning hot in your veins. Your hands have begun shaking again, clinging to the phone still pressed against your chest. You fight the urge to hyperventilate as you stare at your door, half of your brain telling you to run and the other half stuck, staring in shock and disbelief. 

Your door is ajar. Open just a crack, just enough to be noticeable by looking at it. 

You always close your door. You always ensure it’s shut every time you leave the barracks, even when the guys are home. You remember shutting it before you followed the woman out of the barracks. You remember distinctly listening to the click of the handle as you pulled it shut behind you in the quiet of the barracks. 

You stare at the gap, the line of the frame visible. It’s open. Your door is open. 

Someone was inside your room. 

NEXT ->

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[erwinsvow]

https://www.tumblr.com/erwinsvow/752676159050989568/shy-reader

shy reader losing her mind when her and rafe sneak away in a dark hallway at a party and she shoves her against the wall making out fiercely <33

oooo

"but rafe they're gonna look for you-" you're cut off with another hard kiss—the kind that makes your knees dizzy and your head spin. you don't protest, words dying in rafe's mouth and coming out as a soft moan instead.

you were worrying about rafe's friends following you and him down here—an empty hallway just around the corner from the loud party. you were doing surprisingly well for a girl who didn't like parties—a little tipsy off of one beer and a sip of rafe's scotch.

you'd even gotten comfortable enough to mingle while rafe was going around and selling to the people you didn't recognize. in fact, you were talking to a nice girl and her girlfriend about some books you had recently read when rafe had swooped in, not even saying sorry or bye to the couple.

rafe leads you by the hand, and like always, you follow.

you end up with your back against the wall, the photo frame of the stranger who owns this house thudding against where it hangs. you look up at your boyfriend and don't exactly know what's gotten into him, but-

"don't care," he says, low and quiet and in such a tone that you forget what you had even asked. rafe sounds like he wants to get out of this place—and normally you couldn't want anything more.

"i was making friends," you reply, blinking up at him and waiting for the words to process. and you're sure rafe does process them, he's not even drunk though he's had twice as much as you to drink tonight.

"yeah, kid?"

he leans in, and your eyes flutter shut automatically. hot kisses line the column of your neck, from your collarbone to just behind your ear. you turn your head to let him keep going, gripping rafe's shoulder as tight as you can to stay upright.

hands wander under your pretty, new skirt, pulling it up and exposing the skin of your upper thighs to the cold air. it doesn't stay cold for long, with your skin immediately feeling on fire with his touch. his hands keep going—up your hips, then your ribs, then your tits, groping and making your back arch against the wall.

a couple drunken steps from any partygoer would get you guys caught. any other time you'd die at the thought. right now you're too wound-up to care.

you can relax once rafe holds your hips in place. your body sinks down, but you feel rafe's thigh between your legs. whining, without any words exchanged at all, you look up at your boyfriend. he knows what you want, and you think he's gonna keep going. he doesn't.

"that's good. y'wanna go back?" rafe says it because he knows the answer, that there is no way you're going back when he's got you like this.

in between heavy breaths, you shake your head no.

"that's what i thought. c'mon, kid. let's find a room, huh? can't fuck you out here with this audience." rafe pauses, staring back at you while you look up with wide eyes. "bet you'd like that, huh?"

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Being a Terrible “Dad”

In the league’s point of view, Billy has to be a terrible dad… and if he’s not their dad… why is a grown ass man hanging around with these kids? So for peace of mind, they assume Jr. and Mary are his kids. I mean, they kinda look like him. Kinda. Like, I can already see a good portion of them not really liking that he’s letting Freddy and Mary fight bloodthirsty monsters and villains. But, even the heroes that don’t mind that have to take a minute to process Marvel congratulating Mary for going off and doing something extremely reckless:

*They all just watched as Mary flew into an alien spaceship to take it down from the inside out. They knew nothing about the ship, just that it was hostile.*

Mary: *Flies back down from the ship, covered in soot. Lands by Marvel.*

Superman: *Flies over to them* “That was extremely reck—”

Billy: *cuts off* “Mary, that was amazing!”

Superman: “Cap, that wasn’t amazing. It was extremely reckless! She could’ve gotten herself killed!” *gestures to Mary wildly.*

Billy: “But she didn’t!” *gives thumbs up* “Come on, let’s get victory ice cream.”

*The two fly off*

or

*All of them are talking about their kids, eating together at a little lunch table in the Watchtower’s cafeteria like middle schoolers*

Superman: “I wouldn’t let Jon fight any of my villains alone. Most of them, anyways.”

Billy: “Why? Is he not strong enough?”

Superman: “Well, I’m sure he is, but I don’t want him to get hurt, or traumatized. Being a hero can be harsh at times. He’s just a kid.”

Billy: “So? Just cause he’s a kid doesn’t mean that he can’t fight. Just let him.”

Superman: “What? I can’t just let him. How would you feel if Junior or Mary had to fight Black Adam on their own?”

Billy: *shrugs* “Depends. Are they gonna fight him individually or together?”

Batman: *Eating a bat shaped sandwich, made by Alfred* “Individually.”

Billy: “Oh, yeah. Sure. I could trust them to handle Adam alone. I don’t think they could incapacitate him though. A couple times, when I’ve been busy, they’ve held him off for me until I get there.”

Flash: “You just let two little kids (Freddy and Mary look like pre-teens) go out and fight Black Adam? The same Black Adam that destroyed like a quarter of Metropolis in a day?”

Billy: “When you put it like that, it sounds crazy.” *Eats spaghettios*

Green Lantern: “Dude, it is crazy.”

Billy: “Wha? No it’s not. Wondy, when’d you start training for being a whole Amazonian warrior princess?”

Wonder Woman: “When I started adolescence.” *Eats ice cream*

Billy: “Seeeee? It’s fine.”

Martian Manhunter: “How old exactly are Mary and Junior?” *Also eats ice cream*

Billy: “Mary’s eleven and Junior’s twelve, they’re close enough.”

*All except Marvel exchange slightly concerned glances*

or

*Marvel and Junior are bickering next to one of the windows of the Watchtower.*

Black Canary: *Minding her own business and walks past them.*

Billy: “How about I slam your head through this window so we can really see if you can breathe in space, huh?”

*Canary pauses, and wow. Junior didn’t even flinch. That’s actually crazy. The bickering just got worse. This really doesn’t look good from a licensed therapist’s point of view.*