#you have no idea how much I love this chapter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amkyor · 2 days ago

Note

Hey! I'm a big fan, annnd I have a bakugou x y/n idea... where bakugou hasn't been paying attention to y/n his girlfriend lately and it's been lonely.... so y/n is watching a romance anime with Mina and y/n says... "I wish I had that"....and then Mina ask if she loves bakugou and she says ...."hes okay"..... but the whole time bakugou and his friend kirishima were listening....and bakugou his mind is like "I'm a bad boyfriend? Does she love me? Im...okay?"

K. BAKUGO SHORT STORY

Synopsis: Bakugo has been distant toward his girlfriend (you), and she realizes how much it is actually affecting her while watching a romance movie that includes the love that she wishes she had.

Short note: Chapter 23 of my Bakugo x Reader Fanfiction is out now! If you like my stories on here, I'm sure you'll like my fanfiction, so go check it out! The link is at the end of this post!!

Distance Between Us:

It all started slowly, too slow for you to realize.

The day you started to notice it was when it was late in the evening, and you were sitting on the couch, waiting for Bakugo to come home.

He had promised to spend the evening with you after work, but as the hours ticked by, your excitement turned into frustration. Finally, you heard the front door open.

Bakugo walked in, still in his hero uniform, his face tired and serious. "Sorry, I got held up at work. Some idiot caused a mess in the city," he muttered, tossing his gloves onto the table.

You smiled, trying to be understanding. "It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re home now. Want me to heat up the dinner I made for us?"

"Not hungry," he replied shortly, already pulling out his phone. "I need to check the patrol schedule for tomorrow. There’s a lot going on."

You sighed, your shoulders dropping. "Katsuki, can’t it wait? You’ve been working all day. We barely get time together."

But he didn’t seem to hear you, his eyes glued to the screen. "Huh? Yeah, sure, whatever you say."

The evening dragged on, and though he was physically present, his mind remained consumed by hero work.

You ended up eating dinner alone while he sat at the kitchen table, typing away on his laptop.

---

Another time was when he had made plans out of nowhere to hang out with his friends and ditch out on the two of you had planned.

It was a rare weekend when Bakugo didn’t have patrol or missions lined up.

You had planned a quiet day together—something simple, just the two of you.

But as you were setting up breakfast, his phone buzzed on the counter.

Bakugo glanced at the screen and smirked. "It’s Kirishima. He wants to hit the gym and grab lunch afterward. I’ll be back later."

Your stomach sank. "I thought today was for us? We haven’t had a day off together in weeks, Katsuki."

He blinked as if realizing for the first time that you might have feelings about this. "We can hang out later. It’s not like I’m gone all day. Plus, I haven’t seen the guys in a while."

You bit your lip, trying to keep your disappointment in check. "But we haven’t seen each other in a while either."

He paused for a second, then ruffled your hair in a halfhearted gesture. "Come on, it’s not a big deal. I’ll see you tonight." Before you could argue further, he was already grabbing his gym bag and heading out the door.

---

Another day came, and he did the same.

Bakugo’s dedication to his work often left him exhausted, and his sleep schedule was all over the place.

One night, you stayed up late, waiting for him to come to bed.

You had something important to talk about, but he was still in the living room, sprawled out on the couch, catching up on sleep.

"Katsuki," you called softly, standing in the doorway.

He grunted, barely lifting his head. "What is it?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s been on my mind for a while."

He groaned, sitting up slightly. "Can it wait? I just got back from a double shift, and I’m dead tired."

"But it’s important," you insisted, stepping closer.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Y/n, I can’t deal with anything serious right now. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?"

The next day came and went, and so did the conversation. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever get the timing right.

---

Then, of course, came another.

One evening, Bakugo was in the backyard, practicing his explosions while you watched from the patio.

You had been waiting for him to finish so you could spend some quality time together, but he was completely absorbed in his training.

"Hey, Katsuki," you called out, waving at him. "How much longer are you going to be out here?"

"Not now, babe," he shouted back, his voice carrying over the sound of crackling explosions. "I’m almost done!"

Almost turned into an hour, and by the time he came inside, you were curled up on the couch, half-asleep.

He walked past you, grabbing a water bottle from the kitchen.

"Sorry, I lost track of time," he said, but there was no apology in his tone.

You gave him a small smile, too tired to argue. "It’s okay," you mumbled, though deep down, you wondered if he even realized how much you had been waiting for him.

---

In each of these scenarios, Bakugo’s priorities—whether work, friends, or personal routines—seemed to overshadow his time with you. While his intentions might not be malicious, his actions often left you feeling overlooked and craving the attention he gave to everything else in his life.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The evening was calm, the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow across the counters.

You stood at the stove, carefully stirring the simmering pot of stew. The gentle aroma of sautéed vegetables, rich broth, and spices filled the air, blending seamlessly with the soft hum of the overhead fan.

Tonight, you had decided to prepare something special—something hearty and comforting, like the conversation you hoped to have with Bakugo.

It had been a while since the two of you had truly spent time together.

His hero work had consumed most of his days, leaving you with fleeting moments of his presence.

You understood, of course, the weight of his responsibilities, but that didn’t make the distance any easier.

So, as a gesture of love and an attempt to reconnect, you had spent the better part of the evening preparing this meal.

The kitchen was cozy, lit by the soft glow of under-cabinet lights.

Plates were set neatly on the table, silverware arranged perfectly beside them.

A bottle of chilled sparkling water stood in the center, and the faint crackle of the stovetop added a soothing rhythm to the room.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. He should be home any minute now.

You adjusted the flame under the pot, letting the stew bubble gently, and moved to check on the freshly baked bread cooling on the counter.

The sound of the front door opening broke the quiet, followed by the rustling of heavy boots on the doormat.

Your heart gave a small flutter at the familiar noise.

He was home.

You didn’t look up from your task, your focus fixed on the pot as you gave it one last stir.

Toward the front door, the faint creak of the door closing reached your ears, followed by the soft thud of a duffle bag hitting the floor.

Bakugo’s presence filled the space immediately, even without a word.

The faint scent of smoke and ash mingled with the aroma of dinner, a signature of his return after a long day on patrol.

You heard the stretch of leather as he raised his arms high above his head, likely working out the stiffness from hours of action.

His footsteps echoed softly against the hardwood floor as he made his way down the hall.

You could picture him rubbing the back of his neck, his hair likely a mess from the day’s exertion.

The sound of his approach grew louder, each step deliberate yet unhurried, as if he were easing back into the calm of home.

You stayed at the stove, stirring slowly, waiting for him to join you in the kitchen, the moment of connection hanging in the air like the steam rising from the pot.

The clatter of the wooden spoon against the pot ceased as you set it down gently on the counter.

Wiping your hands on the apron tied snugly around your waist, you turned toward the kitchen's pillared entrance.

The soft shuffle of Bakugo’s steps nearing the kitchen tugged at your curiosity, and you couldn’t help but abandon your task momentarily.

You stepped around the corner, leaning casually against the frame of the kitchen entrance.

Resting your hand lightly on the wall, you peeked out toward him.

The sight of Bakugo, mid-stretch with his arms behind his head, immediately brought a fond smile to your lips.

His usual scowl was softened by a tiredness that clung to him, his messy ash-blond hair catching the dim light of the hallway.

He hadn’t noticed you yet, too busy absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck, likely sore from a long day.

His broad shoulders rolled slightly as he worked out the tension, the faint sound of his knuckles popping filling the quiet space.

The corners of your lips curled further upward as you admired him in his element—worn out yet still exuding the confidence and strength you loved about him.

Before you could say anything, his crimson gaze lifted, finally catching sight of you standing there.

His expression didn’t shift much—just a subtle raise of his brows as if to acknowledge your presence.

You straightened slightly, your smile warm and inviting as you prepared to greet him.

But before you could utter a word, he spoke first, his gravelly voice breaking the silence.

“I’m going upstairs to shower. Gotta get this grime off my body.” His tone was matter-of-fact, and he started walking toward you without breaking stride, cracking his knuckles as he moved.

Your smile didn’t falter as he approached, though the hurriedness of his words made you hesitate. “Oh, well, that’s great,” you began, your voice light and teasing. “But don’t take too long becau—”

“Oh yeah, by the way, before I forget,” he interrupted, his voice cutting through yours without a hint of malice, just his usual bluntness. “The gang and I are gonna hang out later, so I won’t be home for long.”

The abruptness of his words hit you like a splash of cold water. Your mouth hung slightly open mid-sentence, the rest of your words caught in your throat.

Bakugo’s gaze didn’t linger long, already focused ahead as though his announcement was nothing out of the ordinary.

Bakugo’s heavy boots thudded softly against the wooden floor as he approached you, his expression unreadable but relaxed.

He stopped just in front of you, his tall frame towering slightly over yours.

The familiar scent of ash and sweat lingered faintly, a testament to his grueling day.

Without a word, his hand reached out, rough but warm, and landed gently on your head.

His fingers ruffled through your hair in a way that was both playful and dismissive, tousling it slightly.

A light smirk played on his lips as he pulled his hand back, his crimson eyes meeting yours briefly.

“I know you can handle things here, so I’ll leave you to it,” he said, his voice low and casual, like he hadn’t just brushed past the idea of spending time with you.

As you stood out in front of him, the confidence and courage you had gathered from cooking in the kitchen had disappeared.

Now that you felt this way, there was no way you were going to bring up spending time with him over dinner.

Even though you had spent all evening preparing this relaxing for the both of you to enjoy, you couldn’t bring yourself to to tell him.

You were scared that if you had opened up, he might have gotten angry and dismissed all your worries with his furrowed brows.

Your heart sank a little at his words, but you forced a small smile, not wanting to let it show.

He turned on his heel without a second glance, his footsteps carrying him toward the staircase that led to the second floor of your shared home.

As he walked, his broad shoulders swayed slightly, his relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the tension that suddenly gripped your chest.

You stood frozen for a moment, your mouth hanging slightly open, the words you wanted to say stuck somewhere in your throat.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked rapidly, willing them away. You hated how they burned, how they threatened to spill over.

This wasn’t the first time Bakugo had brushed things off, but tonight, with the effort you’d put into dinner and the mounting distance you felt between you two, it stung more than usual.

He reached the first step of the staircase, his hand brushing against the railing as he prepared to ascend.

At you stood, something inside you snapped—a small but resolute voice urging you not to let the moment slip by.

Swallowing hard, you gathered the courage you had left, your voice trembling slightly but steady enough to cut through the air.

“Can I go too?”

Bakugo paused mid-step, his back still facing you, as the silence stretched between you both.

For a moment, you wondered if he had even heard you or if he’d continue up the stairs without a response.

Then, he turned his head slightly, revealing his side profile, his crimson eyes glancing at you.

“You wanna come?” he asked, his tone even and unreadable, a single brow raised in surprise.

Your hands instinctively came together, fidgeting as you avoided his gaze.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Gathering a bit more courage, you glanced up at him, noticing his blank expression.

It only lasted a second before you looked down again, unsure how your request would be received. “I mean, if that’s okay…”

Bakugo stared at you for a beat longer, his brow still raised as if trying to gauge your seriousness.

Then, his features softened, his raised brow lowering as he gave a small, nonchalant nod.

“Yeah, uh, sure,” he said, his voice carrying a casualness that made it hard to tell how he really felt.

Without another word, he turned back toward the stairs.

Relief washed over you, and a small smile crept onto your face as you followed his movements with your eyes.

It wasn’t much, but his agreement made you feel a little better, a small step toward closing the gap that had been forming between you two.

As Bakugo reached the first step of the staircase, he stopped again, his hand on the railing.

He turned his head just enough to look back at you, his expression neutral but firm.

“I’m leaving by 6, so get ready,” he said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Then, without waiting for a response, he ascended the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing through the quiet house.

You stood there in the kitchen, your smile slowly fading as his words sank in.

Glancing at the half-finished dinner you’d worked so hard on, your arms dropped to your sides, mirroring the exhaustion settling in your chest.

The kitchen felt colder now, emptier, as you stood there alone, staring at the plans you’d made that now felt insignificant.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake off the weight of disappointment, forcing yourself to move and tidy up the counter.

But no matter how much you willed yourself to focus on the task at hand, the sting of his casual dismissal lingered, leaving a quiet ache in its wake.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The soft hum of the Porsche's engine filled the quiet evening air as Bakugo sat in the driver’s seat, his hand drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel.

His gaze occasionally flicked toward the house, his sharp crimson eyes scanning for any sign of you.

The minutes ticked by, and though he didn’t say it out loud, he was growing impatient.

But there was a part of him that understood why you were taking your time—he had sprung this last-minute outing on you, and you deserved a moment to get ready properly.

Inside, you were slipping on your white Converse, carefully tying the laces with precision.

The finishing touch to your outfit had just been added—a chic combination of blue jeans, a navy blue tank top, and a white cardigan that fell perfectly against your frame.

You smoothed down the fabric, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror by the door.

Your navy blue purse rested comfortably on your shoulder, and the messy bun you’d styled earlier sat perfectly atop your head, with the white headband completing the look.

Satisfied, you grabbed your keys and reached for the door handle.

As you stepped outside, the soft glow of the porch light illuminated your figure.

The evening air was cool against your skin, and the faint scent of freshly cut grass lingered.

You glanced toward the sleek black Porsche parked in the driveway, where Bakugo sat waiting for you.

Inside the car, Bakugo looked up as the light from the open door seeped out, drawing his attention.

His sharp gaze landed on you, and for a moment, his breath hitched.

You looked stunning—effortlessly chic yet understated, the kind of beauty that didn’t need to try too hard.

The way the soft curls framed your face, the navy blue of your tank top complementing your skin, and the casual elegance of your outfit made his heart skip a beat.

He blinked, trying to maintain his usual composure, but the faintest tint of pink crept onto his cheeks, betraying him.

It was subtle, just enough to hint at the effect you had on him, but it was there.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as he tore his eyes away for a brief second, trying to recover.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, glancing at the dashboard as if it could somehow distract him.

But his gaze inevitably drifted back to you, his expression softening in a way only you could bring out in him.

He didn't say anything just yet—he wasn’t the type to gush—but the way his cheeks betrayed a rare blush spoke volumes.

The soft hum of the Porsche’s engine was steady as Bakugo sat, his hand draped nonchalantly over the steering wheel while the other rested against his mouth.

His sharp crimson eyes flicked away from you as you descended the steps toward the car, trying to keep his focus elsewhere.

The blush that had crept onto his cheeks earlier lingered faintly, and though he wouldn’t admit it, seeing you like this had thrown him off his usual composure.

You opened the passenger door with care, stepping into the car and adjusting yourself in the plush seat.

The faint scent of Bakugo’s cologne mingled with the new-car smell, giving the cabin a warmth that was uniquely him.

As you closed the door gently behind you, you glanced up to see him leaning against the driver’s side, his elbow propped on the car door and his hand casually gripping the wheel.

His relaxed posture was natural, but the way his eyes darted toward you from the corners of his vision betrayed a subtle curiosity.

“Sorry I took so long,” you said softly, brushing a loose curl behind your ear.

Your voice broke the quiet tension, and you weren’t sure if you imagined his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

“It’s fine,” he replied, his tone gruff yet calm, as he adjusted himself in the seat and placed both hands on the wheel.

Hearing the simplicity of his response made you smile, a quiet warmth blooming in your chest.

You carefully removed your bag from your shoulder, placing it neatly on your lap.

Bakugo, meanwhile, shifted the car into reverse, the soft rumble of the engine vibrating beneath you as he backed out of the driveway with precision.

You stole a quick glance at him from the corners of your eyes.

The streetlights outside cast a warm, golden hue that framed his sharp jawline and stern features as he focused on maneuvering the car.

He looked so effortlessly confident, so in control—it was hard not to admire him.

Reaching up, you flipped open the vanity mirror above your head, giving yourself a quick once-over.

You smoothed down a stray curl and checked your lipstick, making sure everything was still in place.

Satisfied, you closed the mirror with a soft click and adjusted in your seat, letting your gaze wander back to him.

The quiet of the ride was broken only by the sound of the tires rolling over asphalt and the faint hum of the radio playing low in the background.

You bit your lip lightly, debating whether or not to say what had been on your mind.

Finally, you took a small breath, your fingers beginning to fidget nervously with the strap of your bag.

“Sooo…” you began, your voice tentative as you glanced out the window, gathering your thoughts.

Bakugo didn’t respond immediately, his focus remaining on the road ahead. His silence urged you to continue, so you did.

“How do I look?” you asked, your tone light yet tinged with curiosity.

Your gaze flickered toward him briefly before quickly looking back down at your lap, where your fingers continued to toy with your bag strap.

The quiet hum of the car filled the space between you and Bakugo, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

His eyes were fixed on the road, one hand on the wheel, while the other rested lazily on the gear shift.

You waited patiently, watching him through your peripheral vision, hoping for some kind of reaction to your question.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze momentarily darting toward you before returning to the street ahead.

The streetlights flickered as they passed, casting warm, golden hues across his sharp features.

His silence stretched on, and for a moment, you wondered if he hadn’t heard you.

Finally, Bakugo turned his head slightly, his crimson eyes flickering toward you.

His gaze traveled up and down, taking in the effort you’d put into your outfit—the way your cardigan fell over your tank top, the way your jeans fit perfectly, and the way you’d styled your hair just so.

His expression remained stoic, but his eyes lingered just a beat longer than usual before he turned back to the road.

“You look,” he began, his voice even though there was a slight edge of hesitation.

He glanced at you again, briefly meeting your expectant gaze before focusing back on the street.

You could see his jaw tighten slightly, as if he were searching for the right words. “Good.”

That was it. Just one single, lackluster word.

Your shoulders sank immediately, the corners of your mouth pulling down as disappointment washed over you.

You slumped back into the passenger seat, crossing your arms loosely over your chest and shifting your gaze out the window.

You had spent so much time getting ready, hoping that maybe this time, he’d notice—really notice—and say something that would make you feel special.

But “good” was all you got.

Bakugo, on the other hand, was far from unaffected, though he certainly didn’t show it.

His mind was racing, replaying the moment he’d glanced at you and the way your face had lit up with hope.

His knuckles tightened slightly on the steering wheel, and a bead of sweat formed at his temple as frustration with himself began to build.

His brows furrowed as he stole another glance at you.

You were staring out the window now, your expression unreadable but your body language screaming disappointment.

“Tch,” he muttered under his breath, gripping the wheel tighter.

You remained quiet, sinking further into your seat as the car rolled through the neighborhood streets.

Your fingers toyed with the edge of your cardigan, your mind replaying the moment over and over.

Maybe you’d set yourself up for disappointment.

Maybe this was just who he was—gruff, blunt, and not the type to shower you with compliments.

Still, you couldn’t help the small ache in your chest.

Bakugo’s jaw clenched as he continued to drive, the silence between you both growing heavier with each passing second.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The drive to Kirishima’s house was silent, the tension lingering like an unspoken weight between you and Bakugo.

He didn’t try to make conversation, and honestly, you weren’t sure you’d be able to respond even if he did.

Your disappointment sat heavy in your chest, though you were doing your best to push it down and keep your composure.

When the car finally rolled to a stop in front of Kirishima’s house, Bakugo shifted into park and stepped out without a word, slamming his door behind him.

You sighed softly, your fingers gripping the strap of your purse as you reached for the handle of the passenger door.

Opening it, you slid out of the car, closing it gently behind you.

Bakugo was already several steps ahead, his strong strides carrying him toward the house without so much as a glance back at you.

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tight as you followed behind him, your fingers nervously playing with the strap of your purse.

You felt small and distant, the space between you and Bakugo feeling far more than just physical.

As Bakugo reached the front porch, the sound of laughter and chatter drifted through the air, spilling out from behind the closed door.

The lively atmosphere of the gathering inside only seemed to amplify the quiet distance you felt from him.

Bakugo raised a hand and knocked on the door firmly, stepping back slightly as he waited.

You stopped a few paces behind him, your hands gripping your purse strap tightly as your mind raced.

You were determined to stand tall, to keep your emotions in check and not let anyone see how you were feeling.

The door swung open after a few seconds, revealing Kirishima’s grinning face.

His red hair was as wild as ever, and his cheerful energy was almost infectious.

“Yo, man! You made it!” Kirishima greeted Bakugo with a hearty slap on the shoulder before turning his attention to you. “Hey! Good to see you too!”

“Hey, Kiri,” you said softly, forcing a small smile as you stepped closer to the door.

“Come on in! Everyone’s already here,” Kirishima said, stepping aside to let the two of you in.

You followed Bakugo inside, the warmth and energy of the room enveloping you immediately.

Mina, Jirou, Denki, and Sero were sprawled out in the living room, laughing and chatting amongst themselves.

Mina was the first to notice your arrival, her eyes lighting up as she waved enthusiastically.

“Hey, you two!” Mina called out, jumping up from her seat and rushing over to you.

She wrapped you in a quick hug, her bubbly personality as bright as always. “You look so cute tonight! I love your outfit!”

“Thanks, Mina,” you replied, your smile faltering slightly as you glanced toward Bakugo.

He was already making his way toward the group, offering a brief nod of acknowledgment before settling into a seat near Sero.

Denki grinned, leaning back on the couch and tossing a chip into his mouth. “Look who finally decided to show up. We thought you might’ve bailed on us, Bakugo.”

“Shut it, Sparky,” Bakugo shot back, though there was no real bite in his tone.

As the group erupted into laughter, you found yourself lingering near the edge of the room, unsure where to place yourself.

Mina noticed your hesitation and grabbed your arm gently.

“Come sit with us! You can’t just stand there looking all pretty and quiet,” she teased, leading you toward the group.

You let her guide you, settling into a spot on the couch beside Jirou.

The lively conversation around you was a stark contrast to the swirling emotions in your chest, but you did your best to blend in, laughing when it felt appropriate and nodding along to the banter.

All the while, your eyes occasionally flicked toward Bakugo.

He was laughing with Sero and Denki, his usual gruff demeanor softened slightly by the presence of his friends.

But not once did he look your way, and that small detail gnawed at you more than you wanted to admit.

You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to focus on the moment and not the ache in your chest.

Tonight was about being with friends, and you were determined to make the most of it, even if things with Bakugo felt more complicated than ever.

You sat on the couch, nestled between Jirou and Mina, trying to focus on their lively conversation.

Bakugo was across the room, laughing with Sero and Denki as if the weight of the world didn’t exist.

You glanced at him briefly, your chest tightening before quickly averting your eyes back to Mina, who was animatedly recounting a story about a recent date with Kirishima.

“So, get this,” Mina said, her face lit with excitement. “Kiri and I went to this new arcade last week, right? And they had this claw machine he swore he could beat. It was filled with these little red dragon plushies—totally his thing, you know?”

Jirou smirked, leaning back against the couch. “Let me guess. He spent way too much money trying to win one?”

“Way too much!” Mina exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically. “But he finally got it, and he was so proud of himself. It was adorable.” She giggled, her expression softening.

“Honestly, though, it’s not even about the claw machine. Kiri and I just… we have fun, you know? We go out, we talk about everything.”

Jirou nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “That’s exactly how it is with me and Denki. He’s a dork, but he’s my dork. We go to concerts, hang out at record stores, and just… talk. Like, really talk. He tells me about his day, his dreams, even the dumb stuff that happens during patrols. It’s nice, being so connected.”

The warmth in their voices as they spoke about their relationships was palpable, and it made you feel like a shadow in their light.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly hyper-aware of the tightness in your throat.

“And you,” Mina said, turning her bright eyes toward you. “How are things with you and Bakugo?”

Jirou tilted her head, her expression curious but kind. “Yeah, how’s it going? You two seem solid.”

The question hit you like a punch to the gut.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out at first.

Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your cardigan, and you forced a smile, even as your chest felt like it was caving in.

“Oh, we’re fine,” you said, your voice a little too high-pitched. You cleared your throat quickly, trying to steady yourself. “Everything’s good. Really good.”

Mina beamed. “That’s great! You two are like, the power couple. I mean, he’s Bakugo—grumpy as hell but so in love with you. It’s obvious.”

“Totally,” Jirou added, nodding. “You balance each other out, right? He’s all intensity, and you’re like this calming presence. It works.”

You laughed softly, the sound hollow to your own ears. “Yeah, it works,” you echoed.

They bought it, smiling warmly at you before diving back into their own banter.

But inside, you felt like you were crumbling.

The truth was, things weren’t fine.

They hadn’t been for a while. Bakugo’s constant focus on work, his friends, and his own world had left you feeling like an afterthought.

You glanced at him again.

He was leaning back in his chair, laughing at something Denki said, his sharp features softened by the rare smile on his face.

It was a side of him you loved, but right now, it only made the ache in your chest worse.

Forcing yourself to stay present, you turned back to Mina and Jirou, nodding along to their conversation.

You couldn’t let them see the truth—not here, not now.

So you plastered on your smile and pretended everything was fine, even as the weight of your unspoken feelings threatened to crush you.

---

An hour passed as you, Mina, and Jirou chatted away about everything under the sun—relationships, patrol stories, and even a hilarious moment when Denki shocked himself trying to fix a broken lamp.

Despite the warmth of their company, a small part of you still felt detached, your earlier feelings lingering like a shadow.

Mina, ever the bubbly one, suddenly perked up. “Hey, I just thought of something! Let’s go to the other room and watch a movie! I’ve been dying to see that new romance everyone’s talking about. What do you think?”

Jirou shrugged, a hint of a smile on her face. “Sounds good to me. I could use a break from all the noise out there.”

You hesitated, but the thought of getting away from the others, even for a little while, seemed appealing. “Yeah, sure,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

The three of you made your way to a quieter room down the hall.

It was cozier than the bustling main area, with soft lighting and a plush couch that wrapped around most of the room.

The atmosphere immediately felt more intimate and calm, a perfect escape.

Mina grabbed the remote and flopped onto one side of the couch. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road!”

Jirou settled next to her, her legs tucked beneath her while you took the other end of the couch.

The movie started, its opening scenes filled with charming banter and budding romance.

The three of you fell into a comfortable silence, the story drawing you in.

As the movie progressed, the lighthearted moments gave way to more emotional scenes.

The characters faced challenges, their love tested by misunderstandings and miscommunications.

Then, the pivotal scene arrived.

The male lead stood in the rain, his face etched with regret as he argued with the female lead.

Her voice broke as she shouted, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t get it! I feel invisible to you!” she cried, her words hitting too close to home for your comfort.

Your chest tightened as you watched her crumble, her emotions raw and unfiltered.

The male lead, realizing his mistake, stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she sobbed against his chest.

Your heart ached, the scene striking a chord that you couldn’t ignore.

The floodgates opened, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face.

Your breathing grew shallow, and your palms began to sweat as you clutched the couch cushion beside you.

Mina and Jirou, engrossed in the movie, didn’t seem to notice your reaction at first.

But as you sniffled quietly, Jirou glanced over, her expression softening. “Hey, you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.

You quickly wiped your cheeks, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… really emotional,” you said, your voice wavering slightly.

Mina turned her head, concern flickering in her eyes. “It’s okay to cry, you know. Scenes like this get me every time,” she said, offering you a reassuring smile.

You nodded, appreciating their kindness but feeling exposed nonetheless.

The movie continued, but your mind was elsewhere.

The female lead’s words echoed in your head, intertwining with your own unspoken feelings.

“I feel invisible to you.”

The weight of those words settled in your chest, and though you tried to focus on the screen, the tears wouldn’t stop.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep it together, but the truth was, you felt more vulnerable than ever.

The tears came harder, no longer quiet sniffles but soft, trembling sobs that you couldn’t hold back.

The scene on the screen blurred as your vision clouded with tears, and your chest felt impossibly heavy.

Mina and Jirou both turned toward you, their expressions shifting from casual concern to alarm.

“Whoa, hey… are you okay?” Jirou asked, leaning closer, her voice gentle but tinged with worry.

Mina’s brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She grabbed the remote and paused the movie, the room falling into silence except for your shaky breaths.

She scooted closer to you, her hand resting lightly on your arm.

“Alright,” Mina said firmly, her tone serious but warm. “What’s going on? This isn’t just about the movie, is it?”

You shook your head quickly, trying to wipe the tears away with the back of your hand, but they just kept coming.

“It’s nothing,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jirou gave you a skeptical look. “Come on, don’t do that. You’re obviously upset.”

Mina nodded, her grip on your arm tightening just slightly in encouragement. “Yeah, we’re here for you. So whatever it is, just say it.”

For a moment, you hesitated.

The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, and you didn’t want to burden them with your feelings.

But the way they looked at you, genuinely concerned and ready to listen, broke down the last of your defenses.

“It’s… it’s Bakugo,” you finally admitted, your voice cracking as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. “I just… I feel like we’re drifting apart.”

Mina’s eyes softened, and Jirou tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful.

“What do you mean? Did something happen?” Mina asked, leaning forward, her tone gentle now.

You took a shaky breath, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. “I don’t know… it’s like he’s always so busy, and when he’s home, it’s like I’m not even there. He doesn’t notice when I try to do things for him. I cooked dinner tonight, hoping we could eat together and talk, but he just brushed it off and left to hang out with you guys.”

Mina’s face fell, a pang of guilt crossing her features. Jirou’s lips pressed together, her brow furrowing.

“I know he’s a hero, and I know his job is demanding, but… I just feel so invisible to him sometimes. Like I’m not a priority,” you continued, your voice trembling. “And I’m trying so hard to be okay with it, but it’s just… it’s hard.”

Mina reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize things were like this.”

Jirou nodded, her gaze serious. “That sounds really tough. You shouldn’t have to feel like that, especially not with someone who’s supposed to care about you.”

You sniffled, grateful for their support, but still feeling the weight of your emotions. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I love him, but… it feels like he’s slipping away.”

Mina wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a comforting hug. “You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ll figure it out. And honestly, Bakugo needs to hear this too. He probably doesn’t even realize how much he’s hurting you.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he’s not exactly the most emotionally aware guy, but he cares about you. You just have to tell him how you feel.”

Their words brought a small measure of comfort, but the thought of confronting Bakugo about your feelings still terrified you.

You knew they were right, though. Something had to change.

You sat there in Mina’s embrace, your tears slowly subsiding, though your chest still felt tight.

The weight of their words lingered, and you knew they were right.

As terrifying as it seemed, you had to talk to Bakugo.

But how? He wasn’t exactly the type to sit down and have a heart-to-heart.

Mina pulled back slightly, her warm hands resting on your shoulders as she looked you in the eye. “You have to tell him,” she said firmly.

“And not in a ‘hinting’ kind of way. Lay it all out. He’s not good at picking up subtle stuff.”

Jirou nodded, leaning back on the couch. “Yeah, Bakugo’s not gonna magically figure it out. But if you’re honest with him, I think he’ll listen. He’s stubborn, but he’s not heartless.”

You sniffled, wiping your face with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I just… I don’t want to come off as needy or like I don’t support him. I know how hard he works.”

Mina sighed, shaking her head. “Girl, no. This isn’t about being needy. This is about being in a relationship where you feel seen and loved. You’re allowed to have needs, too.”

Jirou added, “And honestly? If he doesn’t get that, then that’s on him. Relationships are about both people putting in effort. It’s not all on you.”

You nodded slowly, their words sinking in.

It wasn’t easy to hear, but deep down, you knew they were right.

You couldn’t keep bottling everything up and hoping things would magically improve.

Mina smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Look, Bakugo might be a hothead, but he’s not a bad guy. If he knew you were feeling this way, I think he’d do something about it. But you’ve got to give him the chance to step up.”

You sighed, fiddling with the strap of your purse. “I guess I’ll try talking to him later… when we’re alone.”

“Good,” Mina said with a nod, her tone encouraging. “And if you need backup, you know where to find us.”

Jirou smirked slightly. “Yeah, we’ll set him straight if he doesn’t get the message.”

The three of you shared a small laugh, the tension easing just a bit.

Mina grabbed the remote and turned the movie off completely, standing up and stretching.

“Alright, let’s get back to the others before they start wondering what we’re up to.”

You nodded, standing up and smoothing out your clothes.

As the three of you made your way back to the main living room, you felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

Anxiety, hope, and determination all competed for space in your heart.

As you stepped into the room, Bakugo was standing near the corner with Kirishima, laughing at something Sero had said.

His usual sharp smirk was etched on his face, but there was something different in the way his eyes flickered toward you, a hint of something unreadable beneath his confident exterior.

For a moment, you just watched him, debating how you’d navigate the rest of the evening while the conversation with Mina and Jirou still echoed in your mind.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Bakugo had heard everything.

It wasn’t intentional.

On his way to the bathroom earlier, he had walked past the closed door of the cozy room where you and the girls had been talking.

At first, he hadn’t thought much of it—just chatter from Mina and Jirou, nothing unusual.

But then he caught the sound of your voice, trembling slightly, and his feet had stopped.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Really, he hadn’t.

But something in your tone made him pause, leaning against the hallway wall just out of sight.

He listened as Mina and Jirou pressed you about how things were going between the two of you.

He heard the way your voice wavered when you said everything was fine—so unconvincing that even he could tell it was a lie.

And then came the confession.

You weren’t happy.

You felt ignored, neglected.

You felt like he didn’t see you anymore.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

You, the person he cared about most, felt like you were slipping away, and he hadn’t even noticed.

His knuckles clenched, and his jaw tightened as he leaned his head back against the wall.

Guilt surged through him, hot and unrelenting. He wasn’t great with emotions; he knew that.

But hearing you spill your heart out to your friends, feeling like he didn’t care enough—it stung more than he wanted to admit.

When Mina and Jirou encouraged you to talk to him, he heard the hesitation in your voice, the fear of being seen as needy or overbearing.

It made his chest ache. You should never feel like that—not with him.

He had walked away before you left the room, needing a moment to collect himself.

By the time he rejoined the group, his mind was racing.

As you stepped into the living room, Mina nudged you gently with her elbow. “You’ve got this,” she whispered before heading to the group, leaving you to take a deep breath and square your shoulders.

Bakugo, standing near the corner, glanced your way.

His sharp smirk remained, but his eyes lingered on you a little longer than usual, softening for the briefest second before he turned back to Kirishima and the others.

He didn’t say anything, but in the back of his mind, he was already planning.

He wouldn’t let you feel like this again. Not if he could help it.

---

The night had wound down, and one by one, everyone began saying their goodbyes.

Mina and Kirishima gave you tight hugs, Mina giving you a reassuring smile as if to silently remind you of the conversation you’d had.

Jirou patted your arm, her subtle way of showing she was rooting for you.

Bakugo, meanwhile, was his usual self—casual nods, a few gruff “See ya’s,” and a fist bump for Kirishima.

His energy seemed as steady as ever, though you noticed the way his eyes flickered toward you more than once, a slight crease in his brow that he didn’t quite hide.

As the two of you made your way to his car, the quietness of the night enveloped you.

The cool breeze brushed against your skin, and the sound of your shoes crunching against the gravel filled the silence.

You felt Bakugo’s presence ahead of you, his confident stride unchanging, though he occasionally glanced back to make sure you were keeping up.

When you reached the car, he pulled his keys from his pocket, unlocked the doors, and slid into the driver’s seat.

You followed, gently closing the passenger door behind you and placing your bag on the floor by your feet.

The faint scent of leather and his cologne filled the space, a scent you usually found comforting.

Without a word, Bakugo started the engine.

The low rumble of the car filled the stillness as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

His hands rested on the wheel, firm but relaxed, his eyes trained on the road ahead.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, trying to read his expression, but it was the same stoic mask he always wore.

The weight of the evening felt heavy in your chest, and despite the warmth of the car, you felt a chill run through you.

The drive was quiet at first, the soft hum of the engine the only sound between you.

You wanted to say something, anything, but the words felt stuck in your throat.

You fidgeted with your fingers, your gaze shifting between the passing streetlights outside and Bakugo’s profile.

He hadn’t said much since you left Kirishima’s house, and it left you wondering if he’d noticed the distance between you—or if it even mattered to him at all.

Bakugo’s hands tightened slightly on the wheel as he drove, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if he was working through something in his mind.

His gaze remained steady, but every now and then, you noticed his eyes flicker toward you, though he said nothing.

The silence was deafening, and with every passing second, it felt like the space between you grew larger.

Finally, unable to take the tension anymore, you shifted in your seat and let out a soft sigh, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Thanks for driving,” you said, your tone polite but distant.

He grunted in response, a low “Yeah,” his focus still on the road.

The quiet settled again, heavier this time, and you found yourself staring out the window, the lights of the city blurring past.

You wanted to say more, to breach the gap between you, but something held you back.

Bakugo, meanwhile, stole another glance at you, his expression unreadable.

He wanted to speak, to address the weight in the air, but the words felt foreign to him.

For now, he just drove, the road stretching ahead, both of you caught in your own thoughts.

The car hummed softly as the city lights flickered past, but the silence between you and Bakugo felt louder than anything else.

You leaned your head against the cool glass of the window, your eyes fixed on the blurred scenery.

Your hand rested on your lap, fingers nervously fidgeting with your nails as your thoughts raced.

What had started as disappointment had now spiraled into uncertainty.

You couldn’t shake the weight of the conversation with Mina and Jirou, nor the growing chasm between you and Bakugo.

You’d tried so hard to keep it together, but being here, so close yet feeling so far, made it even harder.

Bakugo kept his eyes on the road, his grip on the wheel firm.

Inside, he was battling a storm of emotions.

The echoes of your words from earlier replayed in his mind, mingling with the snippets of the conversation he’d overheard at Kirishima’s.

“I just… I don’t know how much more I can take.”

He wasn’t good with words.

Hell, he wasn’t even good at feelings most of the time. But he wasn’t stupid—he could feel the distance, and it frustrated him because he didn’t know how to close it.

His crimson eyes flickered to you briefly.

The way you sat there, so quiet and withdrawn, tugged at something deep in his chest.

He hated seeing you like this, especially knowing he’d been the one to make you feel this way.

After what felt like forever, Bakugo’s resolve finally cracked.

His hand hesitated on the wheel, fingers tightening for a moment before he let out a sharp breath.

Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached over.

His hand covered yours, warm and slightly rough, the weight of it grounding you.

You blinked, startled by the sudden contact, and turned your head to look at him.

Bakugo didn’t meet your gaze right away.

His eyes stayed focused on the road ahead, his jaw tight, like he was bracing himself for something.

His thumb shifted slightly, brushing against your fingers in an awkward but earnest gesture.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant. “Stop doin’ that.”

You stared at him, confused. “Doing what?”

“Fidgetin’ like that,” he muttered, finally glancing at you for a split second before looking back at the road. “You’ll mess up your nails or somethin’.”

His words were gruff, almost dismissive, but the way his hand stayed on yours told you there was more to it.

He wasn’t just talking about your fidgeting—he was trying, in his own clumsy way, to tell you he cared.

Your chest tightened as you looked down at your joined hands.

The warmth of his touch, the slight awkwardness of the gesture—it all made your emotions bubble up again, but this time, they weren’t as heavy.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t,” he interrupted, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. “Don’t say it. Not here, not like this.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, and leaned back against the seat.

For the first time that evening, the silence between you didn’t feel quite as suffocating.

The car came to an abrupt stop at a red light, but the tension in the car felt like it had slammed into a wall at full speed.

Bakugo’s hand hovered over the wheel, his knuckles white as he gripped it.

His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, but your anger was a storm now, and it couldn’t be contained.

“Seriously?” you demanded, your voice sharp and trembling. “If not here, then where? If not now, then when?”

Your hand yanked away from his, the warmth of his touch replaced by the cold sting of frustration. “You always say that, Bakugo. You always brush our problems away. You… you brush me off like I’m some kind of bug.”

His eyes darted to you, his lips parting as if to defend himself, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“You treat me like I’m not worth your time,” you continued, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Do you even know what I was doing before you came home? I was cooking dinner. For you. For us.”

Your hands shook as you gestured toward him, your words pouring out in a rush. “I did all of that so we could talk, so we could try to fix this. Just so I could know—know for sure—that I mean something to you.”

The light turned green, and Bakugo hit the gas with a little more force than necessary, his jaw tight as he stayed silent.

But you couldn’t stop now.

“But of course,” you spat, your voice rising, “your friends are more important! Work, training, hangouts—all of it is more important than me!”

The car swerved slightly as Bakugo’s grip faltered, and he shot you a glance, his brows furrowed in frustration and guilt. “But they’re not! You’re more important—”

“Don’t give me that crap!” you cut him off, your voice almost a shout now. “If I’m so important, then why do you keep pushing me away? Why do you make time for everyone and everything else but not for me? Huh? Answer me!”

Bakugo’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His silence was deafening, and it only stoked the fire inside you.

“Why, Katsuki?” you pressed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Why do I have to fight so hard to feel like I matter to you?”

The car pulled into your driveway, and Bakugo threw it into park, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly it looked like he might snap it in two.

For a moment, the only sounds were your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the engine.

Finally, Bakugo exhaled sharply and turned to you, his crimson eyes filled with a mixture of guilt, frustration, and something else—something softer, something that looked a lot like regret.

“You do matter,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You mean everything to me, damn it. I just… I don’t know how to show it.”

But you shook your head, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “That’s not enough, Katsuki. It’s not enough to just say it. I need to feel it. And right now, I don’t.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable, as Bakugo stared at you, his expression unreadable.

For once, the explosive hero had no words, and the silence between you felt like it could split the world in two.

Your chest heaved as the emotions you’d been holding in for so long spilled over.

Tears streamed down your face, your voice trembling and raw as you finally let everything out.

“Why couldn’t you have just spent time with me?” you cried, your voice breaking as your gaze locked on Bakugo.

He flinched at the pain in your voice but said nothing, his hands clenching into tight fists on his lap.

“Why couldn’t you see that while you were having fun, I was feeling miserable?!” you continued, your words cutting through the silence like shards of glass.

Bakugo’s eyes darted toward you, filled with a mix of guilt and helplessness, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

“Listen, Katsuki...” you began, your voice softer but no less intense. “I love you. So much it hurts.” Your words hung in the air, trembling with sincerity. “But it’s starting to feel like... like you don’t feel the same.”

His head snapped up at that, his crimson eyes wide and frantic. “That’s not true!” he blurted, his voice rough and unsteady. “Don’t—don’t say that, alright?”

But you shook your head, your tears falling harder now. “Then why does it feel like I’m always fighting for your attention? Fighting for a moment of your time?”

Your voice cracked, and you pressed a trembling hand to your chest, as if trying to hold yourself together.

Bakugo opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

His jaw tightened, and his gaze fell to his lap, his fingers gripping his knees so hard it looked painful.

You could see the frustration, the guilt, the turmoil swirling in his expression, but it wasn’t enough.

It didn’t fix the ache in your heart.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Like I’m not enough for you. Like I’m not your priority.”

Bakugo’s head snapped up again, his eyes blazing with emotion. “You are my priority!” he insisted, his voice desperate now.

“You’re everything to me, alright? I just... I just don��t know how to handle all this shit sometimes!”

His voice cracked at the end, and for the first time, you saw something in him you rarely did—vulnerability.

He looked at you like he wanted to say a million things but didn’t know where to start.

But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

“Then show me, Katsuki,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “If I mean so much to you, then show me. Because words aren’t enough anymore.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, the only sound in the car was the faint hum of the engine.

Bakugo looked at you, really looked at you, and for once, the explosive hero seemed completely lost.

Bakugo’s chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths as he stared at you, his crimson eyes shadowed with guilt and frustration.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to die in his throat.

His hands clenched tighter on his lap, and he turned his gaze to the steering wheel, as if looking at you was too much to bear.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again as you watched him struggle to say something—anything—that could make it better.

“You’re right,” he finally said, his voice low and strained. “I’ve been a shitty boyfriend.”

The admission startled you.

Your breath hitched, and you blinked through your tears as you waited for him to continue.

“I’ve been so focused on everything else—work, training, trying to keep up with everyone—that I didn’t realize what it was doing to you. To us.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, the motion rough and frustrated. “And that’s on me.”

His voice trembled slightly, and he slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sharp thud breaking the tense quiet. “Dammit, I didn’t mean to make you feel like this. Like you don’t matter.”

You watched him, your tears still falling, but something in his voice tugged at your heart.

It wasn’t just guilt; it was desperation.

“But you do, alright?” he said, turning to face you fully now. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, raw and unguarded.

“You matter more than anything else in my life. I just... I don’t know how to balance it all without screwing it up.”

His hands trembled as they rested on his thighs, and you realized how much it was costing him to admit this.

Bakugo Katsuki, the man who always seemed so sure of himself, so strong and unshakable, was unraveling in front of you.

“You’re not the problem, alright? I am,” he continued, his voice softer now. “And I swear to you, I’ll fix this. I’ll fix us. Just... don’t give up on me yet.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words, but the pain you’d been carrying for so long still lingered.

You looked at him, your tears blurring your vision, and took a shaky breath.

“Katsuki, I’m not asking for perfection,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m asking for you to try. To make me feel like I’m worth it. Like we’re worth it.”

He nodded, his jaw tight as he swallowed hard.

“I will,” he said, his voice firm despite the emotion in his eyes. “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll be better. For you.”

You stared at him, searching his face for sincerity, and what you saw there made something in your chest loosen.

He looked at you like you were his whole world—like he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

For the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of hope. It was small, fragile, but it was there.

“Okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Bakugo nodded again, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can.”

The car fell into silence again, but this time, it wasn’t heavy or suffocating.

It was filled with unspoken promises, with the beginnings of something better.

And for now, that was enough.

---

Bakugo’s hand enveloped yours, firm yet gentle, as if he was anchoring himself to you.

The warmth of his grasp communicated what his words had struggled to convey earlier—a need, a desire to hold on to you no matter what.

The silence in the car was filled with unspoken understanding as you both sat there, the weight of the evening settling between you.

When the car finally pulled into your driveway, you barely had time to move before Bakugo was already out of the driver’s seat.

He strode purposefully around the car, his movements sharp yet filled with intent.

You blinked in surprise as he opened the passenger door, crouching down to your level.

His crimson eyes met yours, raw and unguarded. “You mean a lot to me,” he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion.

“So much... and I’m sorry for not showing you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his words tumbled out, each one more heartfelt than the last.

“I’m sorry for not replying. I’m sorry for not being there. I’m sorry for not showing up,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly as he leaned closer.

“I promise, though, from now on... everything I do, I’ll do it with you on my mind.”

His hands found their way to your thighs, a touch so gentle and deliberate it sent a shiver through you.

It wasn’t just an apology—it was a plea, a vow.

“I promise you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “that from now on, I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel loved. So please, don’t give up on me. Please, don’t lose hope.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his tone, the rawness of his confession.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you managed a small, wavering smile as you placed your hand over his.

“You swear?” you asked, your voice trembling with emotion.

His grip on your thigh tightened just slightly, his crimson eyes boring into yours with unwavering determination.

“I promise,” he said, his voice firm yet soft.

That was all you needed to hear.

A small, genuine smile spread across your lips as you nodded.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt the weight lifting off your chest.

After a moment, Bakugo stepped back slightly, holding out his hand to you.

You placed your hand in his, and he helped you out of the car with a gentleness that contrasted his usual brash demeanor.

Once you were both standing, he didn’t hesitate—he pulled you into a tight, almost desperate hug.

His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as if he was afraid you’d slip away.

His head rested against your shoulder, and you could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away.

“I missed you,” you whispered, your fingers threading gently through his spiky blonde hair.

“I missed you more,” he murmured against your shoulder, his voice low and filled with emotion.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, the world around you fading into insignificance.

It was as if time had paused, giving you both a chance to reconnect, to heal.

When he finally pulled back, his hands still rested on your waist, and his gaze locked onto yours.

The intensity in his eyes took your breath away, and before you could say anything, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was an apology, a promise, a declaration.

His lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if to ground himself.

You responded just as passionately, pouring every ounce of love, frustration, and hope into the kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

His crimson eyes softened as he looked at you, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “For not giving up on me.”

You smiled back, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

He chuckled softly, his voice lighter than it had been all evening. “I won’t. I swear.”

In that moment, standing together in the driveway under the soft glow of the porch light, you felt something shift between you.

A new beginning, built on honesty and love. And for the first time in a long time, you believed things could truly get better.

ADULT BAKUGO FANFICTION

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dyingswanpavlova · 3 days ago

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@ Anyone reading, liking and commenting on my Salesman series

I said this a few times already, but I didn't make a post on it yet and right now I really feel like doing that. I'll be completely honest, I've been having (and still am having) a pretty rough time lately. I was always kind of melancholic, but a few years ago I was lively and got my life done somehow. But then I got really depressed and ever since that, I feel like I lost myself in the process. I'm not just saying that as a phrase, I mean it when I say; I lost who I once was. I got anxiety so bad, on some days I can't even order my food on my own. My life somehow deteriorated. I used to write a lot, when I was a teen, like really much. But these last few months and years weighed hard on me. And then, like maybe two weeks ago, I had this random idea with the reader getting attacked and the Salesman saving her and I thought, well, why not?

I cannot begin to describe what the sheer amount of love and positivity I have received ever since has done to me. I feel like I'm slowly learning how to piece myself back together, after living in my head for so long. Everyone, and I mean this, Every. Single. One of you is responsible for this and I will forever be grateful for every kind word, every comment, every like, every message and every smile you gifted me and still are. This whole series means a lot to me, because I feel like it's my comeback from death. I've grown to love the characters and I love bringing them to life in a way that heals trauma, as well as to maybe cause some on the way (It's still fictional and he is a twisted motherfucker, after all🤫), but what means far more to me are you, guys. Every single one of you. I can unabashedly and without any shame tell you that I really, really love you. Thank you. 🤍

(And no, it's not finished yet, before anyone panics, I'm currently working on Chapter 10!!!)

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russellsppttemplates · 14 hours ago

Text

We learn to hold its hand (Charles Leclerc)

Two hearts that lost themselves in pain.

Two hearts that found eachother in love.

Note: english is not my first language. It's been some time since I posted one of these, hopefully I still know how to do it 🥲 A lot of changes have been going on at my job and I've been trying to adjust to all of it without loosing my sanity and writinb has been a good escape! I know this is a heavy topic, so proceed carefully, but I was feeling like writing this so here it goes... For those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: cancer, death of close relatives (reader's and Charles' father), grief, hospital procedures

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

"Bonjour papa", Charles greeted, running his hand over the photograph that was on the grave, "I just got back from the track where we did the testing for Sauber, the last one before the season starts. It's hard, but I'm not afraid", he gulped, "Because you taught me that, even if I'm afraid, I have to go with fear. To move forward, because that's the only way. In racing, I can do that, but I won't be able to continue my life without you because I won't be able to. I try. Every day, I try. For maman, especially, since she tries to be strong for me, Lorenzo and Arthur, and somewhere along the way, we gathered the strength we didn’t know we had, but when we realize it, there it is, supporting us. I'm sure it's you. Every day, I remember that afternoon when you taught me how to ride a bike. Your insistence on removing the training wheels from the big wheel that ended up with a wound on my knee and that made me scream a few times. I remember you telling me that there were worse things than that simple scratch. I never thought that one day we would have to face them and that they would be the main reason why you are no longer by my side", Charles wiped away the tears, while he couldn't help but smile at the beautiful memories that came back to him, "But more than that, I remember the day you put a kart in front of me for the first time. There, I knew it was love for life. Yes, like Francis Cabrel's song. Or that afternoon when I stepped onto the concrete of the best race circuit in the world. There, I knew that I would begin a story in which, even though I was the main character, I would never have been able to write all the chapters that have been completed so far without the help of your pen. That support, that dedication, that encouragement, that love, father. Without them, I would never be the Charles that I am today. There was so much left to say and so much to do. But I am grateful for everything we said and for everything we did. I remember you telling me that you could no longer be strong and you asked me to be. I miss you so much. I miss you so much that I cannot express in words. I just want to thank you for continuing to light my path and for being the best father in the world. You are not by my side, but you are on my side. I feel that, every day. Thank you for continuing to support me in every race and in every challenge that life throws at me. Thank you for being so present, even though you're so far away. I miss you every day. And I feel you with me every day. Je t'aime, papa", he says goodbye, standing up and shaking off the little dirt on his jeans.

He picks up his backpack and starts walking towards the cemetery exit, but a sweet, melodious voice makes him stop walking. Charles looks in its direction, observing a female figure who, sitting next to someone's grave, was quickly but skillfully strumming the acoustic guitar and, at the same time, singing the song he had included in today's conversation with his father. Je l'aime à mourir by Francis Cabrel. Charles smiles at such coincidence and turned his back, picking up his pace, but soon stopping again, feeling a great need to go and meet that girl whose voice conveyed the pain he knew so well - loss.

Charles swallowed hard and instead of walking away, he found himself getting closer and closer to the young woman who, judging by your physical features, was probably around his age.

He waited for you to finish the song to make myself present, since you hadn’t noticed him yet.

“I miss you every day, Lucas. I wish you were here. It would make everything so much easier", he heard you say, through tears, and he felt the impact of all her words. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t feel the same way.

Charles looks at the person you were visiting and his eyes almost popped out of his head when he notices the photo of a boy who couldn’t have been more than eight years old in that portrait. The date of death was twelve years ago.

"Who are you?", you ask.

Charles quickly woke up from his thoughts, focusing his gaze on you, now curiously appreciating him. The colour of your eyes, the way your hair fell down your back and your bare skin faacinaged him.

"Forgive me", he requested, a little embarrassed, "I heard you sing and I couldn't help but come here and tell you that you sing very well and that the person you dedicated the song to probably agrees with me", he replied and your shy laugh made him laugh too.

"Thank you", you offered, quite embarrassed, which was still funny, "He's my twin brother. He was eight years old when he left", you pointed to the portrait you had looked at moments before.

"My father. He passed away a couple of months ago", Charles decided to share the reason why he was also there.

"My brother had a rare blood disease, a cancer doctors were never able to identify. Chemotherapy and radiotherapy were not enough to cure him. In fact, the body of an eight-year-old boy could only handle so much at that time. I was the same age, but I will never forget my brother’s suffering and the strength he had until the end. My childhood innocence was taken from me that day. I am not an example to anyone. The true example of life left more than a decade ago, on a journey that still had a long way to go had it not ended the way it did", you said as you packed your things, letting your anger speak.

Charles noticed the crack in your voice and a few seconds later, he heard your sniffle.

The first instict he had was that he wanted to hug you in that moment and reassure you with just his arms, since words would never be enough comfort at a time like that. And at the same time, he felt that you needed to talk to someone who, being unknown and impartial, would never judge you for the anger you were experiencing.

"My father battled cancer for a few years but, unfortunately, he ended up losing the fight in July. However, the real winner is him. For so many reasons: for the way he faced the reality that was knocking on his door, for how he forced us to face it in the most positive way possible, so that it would become a little easier, and for the way he prepared us for his departure. He is a true hero. If, one day, I can be half the man and father that he was and is, you can be sure that I will leave this life happy", Charles spoke.

"They truly are the heroes who left early to prove that angels really exist", you said, looking at Charles intently in a way made him feel like an open book in front of the most beautiful reader he had ever seen in his life.

"I couldn’t agree more", Charles murmured, too caught up in the gaze of that twenty-year-old girl who was so much more like him than he had thought.

"Y/N", you held out your hand and he smiled at your introduction.

"Charles", he reciprocated, fitting his hand in yours, which you immediately shook.

And there, he knew that you were marked by the wound that would never heal and by the feeling that would never disappear: pain.

There, those two hearts that were lost in pain would be the same ones that would find each other in love.

Charles got up from the floor, after the usual daily conversation he shared with his father after training. He noticed you in the same position you had been in before, but this time, you were reciting poems from a small book you had in your hand, completely distracted from your surroundings.

It was the first time in almost three weeks that he had seen you again. You had stopped showing up at the same time as he did and for a moment he thought you were avoiding him. But he soon put those thoughts aside. After all, if you didn’t even know each other that well, what was the need?

“Y/N", Charles said as he approached you, alerting you of his presence.

You looked at him with a shy smile and immediately stood up as well, "I haven’t seen you around here since", he added and you laughed softly.

"In the last three weeks, I came in the morning, because of the internship I'm doing. I had to change schedules with a colleague and I couldn't come in the afternoon. Now everything is back to normal, so here I am", you explained and he nodded in understanding, "You never miss your schedule", you pointed out it was his turn to laugh.

"This is the best time for me to come because this way, I can spend more time with my father before the cemetery closes", Charles explains and you nod, "Hmm, I really like talking to you but, is it just me who thinks we're not in the best place?".

Your beautiful laugh makes him laugh too, "Without shadow of a doubt", you agreed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I bet you're hungry", Charles assuredly and you laughed again.

"Very", you dmitted, blushing, which made him smile at your embarrassment, "the line at the bakery in front of where I work was too long and, I'm sorry, but patience has never been my strong point", you defended yourself and he giggled.

"So it's better to go without food...?", Charles quirked an eyebrow as he asked, surprised and you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"I wouldn't go without food, obviously. I was just going to have to snack something later", you shrugged.

Once you stood outside the cemetery, you looked at each other intensely, not knowing what to say, "Would you accept an invitation for a snack?", Charles gathered the courage to ask and it was your turn to laugh at his shyness.

"Yes", your positive answer made him smile.

"Do you have a car?", he asked and you said no.

"Not yet. It’s at the mechanic’s", you made a face of disgust and Charles laughed, "the good news is that my father can pick it up at the end of this week. You have no idea how much I need it for my internship", you complained and Charles smiled at you relaxed way.

"Then you’re coming with me", he invited and you thanked him.

Charles lead you to his car and you smiled in gratitude when he opened the door for you so you could get in.

"And, if you’ll allow me, can I know what you study, Y/N?", Charles asked curiously, when you were already in line at the caffè, the place being chosen by the young woman during your journey, which had been made in a silence that Charles wouldn’t consider awkward but also not very comfortable. The awkwardness was still there.

"Radiology and radiotherapy", you replied, letting out a smile, "Twelve years ago, for a few months, I followed my brother's fight and was inspired by the humanity of those doctors and the team responsible for his case. The way he was treated, the constant encouragement in his recovery, the words and friendly shoulder they gave my parents, and even me, the way they prepared us for the worst and the way they accompanied us in our mourning, was truly human and truly inspiring. And there, I decided that this was something I would like to do in the future. I want to help others like they helped me more than a decade ago", you said proudly, earning a big smile from Charles.

You were interrupted when it was your turn to make the requests and respective payment. Charles insisted on paying the entire bill and you gave in, after much insistence from his behalf.

"Next time, you'll pay", Charles promised, as you walked aimlessly through the streets of Monaco.

"Will there be a next one?", you asked, laughing and Charles couldn’t help but look away from your shy eyes, "It’s a promise, then", you added and Charles looked at you again, already looking at him with a smile.

You ended up sitting on the lawn of a garden, finally digging into your food.

"And you? Can I know what you study?", you asked, equally curious and Charles laughed, still feeling a little satisfied that you didn’t know him as a Formula One rookie.

"I’m a race driver", he told you and you looked at him in surprise.

"What category? And which team?", you asked with interest and he smiled.

"The best in the world and the biggest one in racing", he replied, not wanting to say the team's name directly, because that way he would be able to know which one she supported.

"Do you race for Ferrari?", you asked and Charles smiled broadly, happy with what he had heard.

"I was in their academy last year", Charles confirmed and you smiled.

"How come I've never seen you there?", your curiosity and interest were something that satisfied him. After all, he wasn't the only one who wanted to know more.

"I was in Formula Two with Prema", he explained and her "makes sense", spoken in English, made him laugh.

"But tell me something. Are you regular at races?", Charles asked and you nodded.

"You could say that", you both laughed, "My father and grandfather were always

big racing fans. In fact, they are. And they passed that love on to Lucas", you smiled and looked down at the ground, "The few times he wasn't in the hospital, he was at the track. What he felt for racing was something I had never seen before. It was contagious. Everyone infected Lucas and he infected me. After his death, I promised myself to accompany my father and grandfather, and even go there alone, to every race that was done there. It was, and is, a way of feeling Lucas with me. That’s why I love racing so much", you looked at him with teary eyes, letting the tears fall when Charles brought his thumb to your face, caressing it.

"I’m sorry", you murmured and he quickly denied it, so that you would know that everything was okay.

"You’re inspiring, Y/N. I hope you know that", Charles offered.

You shook your head, smiling, "No, I don't think so. I’m just an eight-year-old child, in the body of a twenty-year-old girl who cries every night, wishing her brother was by her side", you spoke, with some difficulty, and Charles swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to comfort you.

"No, Y/N. You are a young 20-year-old woman who lost her brother at the age of eight and who, even today, is learning to deal with his absence", Charles said and you quickly wiped away the tears that were falling from your eyes, unable to help but sigh heavily.

"So, tell me, how does it feel to wear red? I clearly have been focusing in specific catehorues", you asked with a smile and Charles smiles at your change of subject.

"Incredible. It is a dream come true. I have no words to thank the trust that my team put in me, and how stepping into F1, even if it's not Ferrari, is a huge sense of responsibility, after all, you’re representing one of the best teams in the sport, the best in the world for me", Charles proudly answered your question, not avoiding remembering the day he signed his first professional contract with the unspoken promise and hope of a place in the Scuderia.

"How many years has it been?", you asked.

"I've been with the best the world for a few years", you both smiled.

“We could go watch the historic race this Saturday on the track just outside the city", you invited Charles and he smiled at you initiative, not hesitating to nod.

“I was already thinking of going, but now I’m really going to", Charles answered and you blushed.

"Can you give me your phone number so we can arrange things better?", Charles asked, feeling brave enough to do so, and you nodded.

You exchanged contact details and chatted a little longer until you were interrupted by the ringing of your phone. Charles waited for the call to end and returned the smile you gave him.

"Typical motherly concern", you explained, and Charles laughed, nodding along

"I know how it feels", he commented and it was your turn to smile

"Since my brother passed away, my mother, who was already overprotective, has become even more so. I don’t blame her for that, quite the opposite. I have learned to deal with it and I don’t make her life harder, I have a very open relationship with my mother. My first academic choice was not Monaco, but in Montpellier", you said as Charles made such curiosity known and looked at you, "But the truth is that I couldn’t even finish the first semester in the city because I couldn’t stand being alone. It was as if the pain multiplied by mixing with the loneliness that I felt. We were so close that I couldn’t separate the pain of having to leave for one of my dreams. I wasn’t prepared for the nights when nightmares haunted me and the absence of my brother was felt more than ever. So, I asked my parents to come and get me and I moved back to Monaco, where it didn't get easier but it wasn’t as difficult as being alone. Since my brother left, we’ve gotten even closer. But the first few days were the hardest. My mother became depressed, my father closed himself off a bit more and, at the age of twelve, I let myself be suffocated by the feelings I had no one to talk to, until my father learned to deal with the pain and helped us do the same. Someone needed to get back on their feet and help others get back on their feet too, and my father was my hero. We sought out the best psychologists for my mother and her progress was very positive, but in truth, what she was doing, and rightly so, was mourning the loss of the most real, pure and true love in the world. She was mourning the death of her son. And she did it in the only way she knew how. Today, we continue to do it, but we do it differently. And if people now talk and watch us go about our day to day lives, it's not because it no longer hurts - because it hurts a lot - it's because we've learned to embrace pain and deal with it. We hold its hand. I think the learning process is lifelong. And I'm going to die, still learning how to deal with it", you said, and the impact of your words prompt Charles to shed a tear, which was joined by all the others, for all the memories that hit him.

"I miss him so much", Charles whispered, avoiding your gaze.

Just out of the corner of his eye, Charles could see you get closer to him, smiling faintly when you pulled him into a hug he didn't hesitate in joining.

You fit perfectly on his chest, head nestled there as he hugged you by your waist, enveloping you and kissing the top of your head without a hitch.

And in that first touch of many, you got to know eachother through the way you both knew so well - pain. And right there, without knowing, you started another one - love.

Charles was coming home after another training session, the last one before the charity race he was participating in which would take place the next day at ten in the morning. Today was also the historic race day, the race he would watch with you, after meeting up every day that week at your usual spot - although it wasn’t the happiest, you always ended up going to different places in the capital city, where you took the opportunity to get to know each other better.

"Charles", he heard his mother call out and smiled, going to meet the woman who was preparing dinner.

"Hi, maman”, he kissed her hair and bent down a little so she could kiss his cheek, “I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you", he looked at her with a guilty expression, "I'm not going to have dinner at home", he continued, enjoying the meat she was cooking that smelled very good.

"It's all right", Pascale smiled, "you're going to watch the historic race with Joris and Riccardo, aren't you?", she asked, as they were usually his company.

"Well, about that..", Charles mumbled, scratching the back of his neck in a gesture of confusion that didn't go unnoticed by the oldest in the room.

"Charles Marc Hervé Perceval! What aren't you telling me?", his mother asked, genuinely curious, and he laughed out loud when she turned off the stove and crossed her arms, waiting for him to start talking.

"I'm going with a girl", he started and saw her smile grow at the information he had given her, "her name is Y/N. She is twenty years old and is a final-year student in the radiology and radiotherapy course. Unfortunately, we did not meet under happy circumstances, but the time we have spent together has allowed us to create and experience moments that go beyond that", he explained, avoiding his mother’s gaze to hide his slight embarrassment.

"Where did you meet?", Pascale wanted to know.

"At the cemetery. It was during one of the visits I paid to papa, three weeks ago. She lost her twin brother to a rare blood disease that doctors were never able to identify. Y/N was eight years old when he passed away. I have never related with anyone as much as I did with her. She understands me. In fact, we understand each other. She is simply beautiful in every way", Charles shrugged, not avoiding a smile as he remembered you.

"Charles, is it just me or are you in love?", his mother asked with a smile as she hugged him, fitting into his arms.

"It’s not possible, maman. Only this week that we’ve gotten closer", he replied, not avoiding a nervous laugh.

Pascale laughed, "and since when did that stop you from feeling something for that young woman? Charles, amour, it’s not the time of things but the intensity with which we experience them", she wisely advised and Charles nodded, smiling weakly.

"Thank you for everything, maman. Je t'aime", he whispered against her hair, leaving a kiss there.

"Never forget that you, as well as your brothers, are my pride and the light of my eyes. Je t'aime, Charles", Pascale spoke.

Charles held his mothee on his arms, wanting her to be aware of the infinite gratitude he felt for her.

Pascale pulled away, wiping her tears, and smiled at Charles, "Come on, I don’t want you like this!", Charles asked and she laughed, waving.

"I’m fine", his mother assured, "Now go take a shower and get ready so you don’t keep the girl waiting. I’ll make you a bowl of cereal, so you can eat something before you go", she warned and smiled, getting a kiss on her forehead.

"You’re the best!!", Charles exclaimed, leaving the room, and she laughed.

"I know!", she said, laughing, and Charles laughed at her expression.

Once he got to his bedroom, Charles chose a presentable outfit, wanting to dress appropriately and blend in with all of the fans and enjoy the race that was probably one of the last moments before everything flooded in. The PR team had already warned him that once he was in Formula One, everything changed and he hoped he could have this evening.

He ran to the bathroom, took a quick and relaxing shower, and got dressed without rushing, making sure he looked his best. After that, he went back to the kitchen, where his mother was still, finishing the preparations for dinner.

“Since I didn’t have any company for the meal, I invited your cousins”, she said.

Charles gave her a guilty smile, "I'm really sorry, maman", he spoke sincerely, and it was her turn to laugh, shaking her head.

“It’s okay, Charles, I was just kidding. I want you to go and enjoy Y/N's company. I haven't even met her yet and I already like her", she commented.

"Oh really? Why is that?", Charles wondered, really interested.

"Why? Because every time you talk about her, it's impossible for you not to smile. And I like that", she admitted and he blushed, hearing his mother giggle at his shyness.

"Maman!", he mumbled and the older woman laughed.

"What's wrong?", she asked, pretending not to notice as her son rolled his eyes, laughing.

"I knew I shouldn't have said anything, I should've stayed quiet", Charles complained and she laughed out loud.

"As if I wouldn't eventually find out, Charles", she winked, convinced, and Charles laughed at the joviality that characterized his mother, even after everything that life had put her through.

They were closer than ever and he felt very comfortable sharing any kind of subject with her, she was his best friend and the best thing in his world.

"I really have to go", Charles announced, looking at his watch, making sure he wouldn’t be late.

"Do you have everything with you, amour?”, she asked and he looked at her confused.

“Yes, why?”, Charles answered with another question, while he set the bowl of cereal in the sink.

"Are you sure?", she insisted and he snorted, patting his pockets and checking that nothing was missing.

"I have everything", he replied, kissing her forehead as a way of saying goodbye, "I'll see you later. Je t'aime!", he shouted from the living room and heard her laugh.

"Do you have the condoms with you?", Pascale asked, giggling, and Charles almost choked on his own saliva.

He couldn't believe it.

"Seriously, maman?", he made himself heard out loud.

"Do you think I'm stupid, Charles? I too was a young woman your age once. And I'm too young to be a grandmother!", she said, coming to meet him at the door, and she couldn't help but laugh when she saw his embarrassment.

"I'm leaving!", Charles exclaimed, leaving a last kiss on her cheek and walking all the way to the car while laughing, knowing his mother never missed the opportunity and had a great ability to embarrass her own son.

Charles got in the car and drove off towards your house which, even after a week, continued to leave him astonished by the external beauty that set it apart from the others in the same neighborhood. He sent you a quick text letting you know that he was already waiting for you and, about three minutes later, he heard a door slam, looking in the direction of the noise and not helping but smile when he saw how you were dressed appropriately for the race.

"Wow, yes, we have a racing fan", he complimented and the brunette giggle.

You were dressed in a vintage jacket, an allusive cap with the peak turned backwards and the rest of the outfit complimented it.

The rest of the journey to the track was transformed into a karaoke session, "tell me if we don't make an unbeatable singing duo", you joked as you walked towards the interior of the building where you would be sitting.

"Like society hasn't seen in many years", Charles joined in your joke and you laughed

Charles put his right hand on your shoulder, hugging you and guided you through the crowd so that you wouldn’t lose each other. He heard his name being called and two kids running towards him, making you stop walking. He greetd them with a smile and they ask for a photo that would be the responsibility of the woman who was waiting for them to position themselves, "your girlfriend can also join the portrait", the oldest women pointed to you, and you couldn't help but blush, making Charles smile sideways when he noticed such a thing.

"We're not-", Charles didn't let you finish.

"Come here, Y/N", he asked and the lady waved, heading towards you.

After the photos were taken, the kids thanked Charles, immediately disappearing from our sight, "Do you want to see something around here or would you rather go inside now?", Charles chatted up while you tried to show yourself less embarrassed.

He couldn't help but admit that he was enjoying seeing you like that and, more than that, knowing that he was the one that made you feel that way.

"We can go inside, since race time is very close", you preferred and Charles nodded, placing his hand on the small of your back, leading you to the entrance.

You greeted the various security guards who were there and headed to the place that your tickets indicated. Because Charles belonged in a professional driving championship, he was entitled to the VIP stands.

"Wow", you exclaimed, truly enchanted by the view you had of the track, which was undergoing the final touches before opening its doors to the public.

"Have you never been here before?", Charles asked and saw you deny it, while remaining astonished, appreciating the atmosphere around you.

"Only for a visit when Lucas was with us, never when there was an actual race happening. This is going to be great", you finally looked at him, offering him a smile, "thank you, Charles", you spoke and he acknowledged the sincerity of your words, smiling at you broadly.

“You’re welcome", he downplayed the situation, just hoping you would feel good, "I don’t know if you drink, but would you like a beer? Or perhaps some wine?", he asked and you laughed.

“I don’t usually drink, but today I can make an exception", you accepted and Charles smiled.

“Are you sure? You have every right to say no" he made it clear and you laughed, denying it.

“Seriously, Charles, we can go", you insisted and he waved, giving you space so you could go ahead of him.

The crowd there was huge, but that didn't stop you from drinking and snacking before the race started.

"The teams are getting ready", Charles said as you finished our drinks and you waved, standing up and opening your wallet to take out the money.

"Hey you! What are you doing?", Charles quickly intervened, placing his hand on yours to stop your movements.

"Charles, what did you promise? 'You'll pay next time', that's what you said", you imitated his tone of voice and you burst out laughing.

"Can't you wait until next time?", he insisted and you gave him a death glare, making Charles realise there wasn't much he could do.

"Okay then", he gave in and you giggled smugly.

You went back to your seats after you paid, watching everyone get ready for the race.

"Do you have a favourite driver?", Charles wondered.

"I don't think so. Each one has something to offer to the races, and it's not like many of them are here", you spoke before seeing Lewis Hamilton approach one of the cars.

A song came on and you pulled Charles to dance with you, singing in his ear as he smiled, tightening his grip on your waist. "Now comes the part that no one knows how to sing", you added, moving away from Charles a little and he could notice your shyness, most likely because of the action you had done before.

You danced awkwardly, which earned you a couple of looks, and stopped when the announcer of the track, already full, made himself heard, announcing the race was about to start.

"I love this part", you smiled, getting a kiss from Charles on the hair that was not covered by your cap.

The race started out well and everything seemed to be going as they hoped, the announcer mentioning some facts they had about the historic race.

"THAT'S AN OVERTAKE!", you shouted and the entire section stood up, celebrating yet another great move from Lewis.

You screamed euphorically, pulling Charles into a quick hug, before joining in the celebrations with the rest of the fans.

This girl was out of this world, Charles thought.

"I've never seen a girl like you", he said, automatically enchanted by you.

"That's because I'm an exclusive edition", you joked and you both laughed, "Is that good?", you asked seriously.

Charles returned your gaze, nodding, "Very. You're different from everyone I've ever met", he admitted and you smiled, looking away from him.

"Good. That way, I don't have to worry about them", you shrugged.

Charles smiled, satisfied with the answer you had given him, "Come here" he asked in an act of courage, hugging you while you rested your head on his chest and focusing your attention on the race.

When the race ended for a break until the next one, you took the opportunity to go to the bathroom, while Charles chose to do the same.

Since he was quicker than you, given that the line was shorter, he waited for you outside, where there was a line of young people who were looking at him curiously.

"Finally", Charles muttered to himself as he watched you leave the compartment.

"What happened? Were you feeling watched over?", you made fun and he stuck his tongue out at you, pulling you closer to him. "Watched over?! It seemed like the girls were undressing me with their eyes", he accused.

"That was most likely exactly what was happening", you confirmed and he looked at you in shock, which made you laugh again, "What?! You can't judge them!", you argued.

Charles laughed, honestly pleased with what he had heard, "Oh really? Have you also undressed me with your eyes?", he whispered in youe ear.

"No, I prefer to do it with my hands", you murmured against his mouth and walked ahead of him, leaving him perplexed.

Well, take that, Charles, his subconscious spoke and he chuckled - the ability you had to leave him speechless was unbelievable. Noticing the faces you were making, he decided to return to your seats, where you were already dividing your attention between your cell phone and the track.

"What are you watching?", Charles asked, moving closer to you to observe what you were watching, spending some time watching the silliness and fun on her screen.

"The game is going to start again", Charles said as you quickly turned off the electronic device and hugged his waist, while you paid attention.

"What is he doing to Lewis?", Charles complained.

"Do not play around with him!", you joined.

"Maybe there's a favourite after all?", Charles teased you.

"Maybe, he is very skilled and handsome", you shrugged.

"Oh, good", Charles murmured, feeling a pang of jealousy at the way you had spoken about the driver.

Your laugh made him realize that you had noticed, "Charles, are you jealous?", you mocked and he rolled his eyes, avoiding looking at you.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know that word", he shrugged, trying to make you forget the subject but you didn’t give in.

Instead, you brought your hand to his face, making him look at you, "I’m here with you, aren’t I?", you asked seriously and he smiled weakly, nodding along, "So it’s not Lewis that interests me", you concluded, paying attention to the track again.

Charles sighed, pulling you closer to him, a gesture that made you smile.

Once the race ended, you headed towards the outside, trying to avoid the confusion as much as possible.

"Shall we eat something?", Charles asked you, intertwining your fingers, and you smiled shyly at him, which made him chuckle.

"Please!", you agreed and laughed out loud. "Suggestions?", he asked and you looked thoughtful.

"The center might not be a good idea because it must be full after this", you ruled out, "that new panini shop?", you suggested and he agreed.

You got in the car and headed towards the shop, ordering it to go and Charles ended up choosing a nice spot that overviewed the city.

"Tomorrow I'm going to race", he began, "I know it's not your tradition, but I'd like for you to come watch", he invited and you smiled.

"I'll be there", you agreed and it was his turn to smile, "At what time is it?", you wondered.

"At 10:00 in the morning. I know it's Sunday but...", Charles trailed off.

"Tomorrow, at that time, I'll be there to support you", you promised and he thanked you.

Charles parked the car and you got out of the vehicle, enjoying the fresh night air, which was quite pleasant. He cleaned his shirt and pants again and heard you laugh as you came closer to help him with the crumbs.

"Clumsy", you criticized jokingly, and he stuck his tongue out at you.

You sat down on one of the benches that were there and you sighed, making Charles look in your direction.

"How peaceful", you whispered, while keeping your eyes closed and a small smile on your lips.

"Monaco is really beautiful", Charles said, hearing you agree with a small murmur.

You took off your cap and tried to fix you hair, making Charles laugh.

"Let me help you", he gently asked and you turned to him, letting him fix the rebelliousness that characterized you.

As soon as he finished, he continued to caress them, which made you close you eyes to enjoy the affection.

"Kiss me", you murmured and he looked at you in surprise.

"What?", Charles asked, trying to understand if he had heard correctly.

"Kiss me, Charles", you repeated.

"Can I?", still astonished, he wanted to make sure.

"You should", you replied as Charles smiled at your answer and pulled you towards him, appreciating the serenity of your face.

"Finally", Charles whispered against your mouth before finally placing your lips together for the first time - of many, he hoped.

You allowed his tongue to enter your mouth when he silently asked for permisson and he intensified your kiss, truly surrendering to you.

And in eachother's lips, you discovered the path to peace, the one you both had lost years before with the pain that had overwhelmed you.

You woke up to the sound of the alarm clock, quickly getting up, not wanting to be late for Charles' race,

"Y/N, dear?", you heard the surprise in you mother's voice and couldn't help but laugh. "Hi, mama", you said, giving her permission to come in, and she did so.

"Are you going to tell me why you're up at this hour? Of all people, you who hibernates all weekend!", she joked and you stuck out your tongue, which made her laugh.

"I just felt like getting up, that's all", you said briefly, as you looked through your closet, looking for the most presentable, yet comfortable, clothes possible.

"And why are you going to dress so nicely if you're going to spend the whole day at home?", she mused, suspiciously, and you laughed at her curiosity.

"Okay, mama, you win", you eventually gave in and she celebrated, which made you laugh out loud.

"I'm going to watch the charity race", you said and her curious look made you realize that her questions were only at the beggining.

"Who's your boyfriend from there?", she didn't hesitate to ask and you looked at her, shocked etched on your face.

"Why do I have to have a boyfriend to watch the race?", you asked, astonished and she looked at you with an expression that said to not mess with her.

"Your mother is old but she's not stupid, Y/N", she scolded, laughing and you followed.

"Mama, you are forty-eight years old. You are a young woman", you complimented her, trying to make her drop about the subject and the older woman laughed.

"Yes, yes, sweetheart. Now the question I asked you", she insisted and you laughed, shaking your head.

"I don't have a boyfriend, mama. But I have a friend who would like me to go and I'm going", you told her and the smile she gave you made you blush.

"Name?", she wanted to know and you snorted, making her laugh.

"How annoying", you rumbled and she laughed again, "Charles".

"Then I hope this Charles takes care of you or the wooden spoon will fly", she threatened and you couldn't help but laugh with her.

"You're amazing, mama", you replied and she laughed, coming towards you and kissing your forehead.

"I just want you to be happy", she muttered, while caressing your face and smiling.

"I am", you assured her and she smiled, before walking away, leaving you alone again. You ran to the private bathroom and took a quick shower, leaving it shortly after so you could get ready in time. You applied some light makeup and dried your hair, leaving it in its natural waves.

You went down the stairs, passing through the living room, patting Simba on the head, the old Labrador who had always been with you, and whose name was based on Lucas' favorite movie.

"Good morning", you greeted your parents, although you had already spoken to your mother.

"Up so early, my dear?", your father was surprised and you looked at my mother, who was already looking at you with a suggestive smile that made you roll you

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc angst

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mocha000 · 17 hours ago

Text

Impatiently waiting for the video omg. "You know I did not realize just how subby I made Yoongi when I wrote this but tbh I’m not complaining, I think it’s verry within the bounds of his charecter to want to depend on the others during these moments when things are changes in the pack structure." yeah i kinda love sub Yoongi. "there needs to be more lovey dovey bullshit! especially her calling him perfect for her later in the chapter like! yes! thats your mate honey!" true.

"sometimes i wanna take real yoongi by the ears and also tell him that he’s perfect." MOOD LOL "Honestly Namjoon deserves all the kudos for his self restraint, here he is in the nest, his omega’s acting cute and slutty and he’s just a good alpha and watches 🥰 need me an alpha like namjoon." yeah omg.

"tbh i think spanking jk was the only way that the pack could keep him seated and paying attention while the m/c was riding yoongi otherwise he would have gotten up close and personal. in my mind- jk in heat doesn’t have like- a very good idea of body boundaries? like he’s a big puppy who doesn’t realize often “hey they’re having a private moment maybe i shouldn’t go over and cuddle them” like that’s his pack of course he would be allowed to get in the middle of it? " oh lol

"we are also on the outside looking in at them too- so thats why i wanted to leave it up to interpretation like- whatever you most want to read him say to her is what he says." hmm ok. "yeah listen i know i was only letting hoseok have one mouthful but! but! i was running out of pretty ways to describe it :( maybe in the next chapter-" yes!! "because the only smutty bit in that is a yoongi x hobi scene that is 😵‍💫 a bit of a doosie."

"the quickest ive seen on forums is solid sucking for 9 hours straight which seems! a bit excessive! but i think with a bit of supliments you could very very easily make it happen." wow, that's crazy. i have been a little curious but wouldnt 9 hours hurt damn. "thank you for your comment once again <3 i’m glad that none of this slightly more extreme smutt than usual seems to have been too much <3 i always worry but i shouldn’t because you always leave such nice comments!" engrave this into your brain sweetheart. i love this fic omg!!

Before I Leave You (Pt. 80)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: “Come on hyung, fuck her like you mean it.”

Tags: Groupsex, Mating cycles/in heat, fivesome, exhibitionism, voyeurism, slight Jungkook x m/c focus, praise kink, Knotfucking, dumbification, mind-break, Namjoon calls Yoongi a bitch once in like a sexy way, omegaspace sex, lactation kink, false pregnancy, some good ol' tiddy sucking, omega x omega content, scissoring, pussy spanking, excessive squirting, size kink, breif mention of monstercock dildos, overstimulation kink, forced orgasam (but not in a cnc way), knot milking, mommy kink, daddy kink, trans characters, discussion of girl knot/cock, girl on top, feral sex, biting, humor, this is soft and horny and funny and sweet.

W/c: 12.7k

A/n: Ahhhh i'm sorry it took so long for me to write this chapter- the good thing is the next one won't be that far off! Until then if you like this story and want to read a different version of the beginning that has like 5+ additional chapters of how yoongi and the m/c got together you can read it here.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

As you can expect, there is some clamoring around Yoongi.

Everyone reaches to feel, to touch, to check. Your hand is among the others tangling with Tae's fingers then Hobi's. Every touch is exploratory, curious, and coming to terms. Shocked and happy, weirded out and displeased. There are so many emotions that everyone's scents are all over the place. Surprised, excited, and scared.

Jungkook starts to tip his head, eyes open, leaning into Namjoon's space and falling, like he can't figure out which alpha to please with the scent of a new knot in the air. Jin lets out a shocked noise, not entirely upset but still.

“Wow is he bigger than Minnie and Hobi?” “I don’t know, but you should definitely measure.” “It feels so much less firm than a normal knot,” “Like squish mellow” “And he’s got that vein! I can see it pulse!” "Wow what the fuck, it’s so pink."

"Am I dreaming it's like my dream for everyone to have a knot."

"Even the pup?"

"Especially the pup. Have you seen Tae's dick? Girl knots are like- so ugh."

Until it gets too much, until Yoongi’s hips splay, and his head tips back, breath ragged. “Guys I’m-”

"Alright." Namjoon snaps, loudly. "Everyone back off. Give him some room."

You do not back up, you curl up around your mate's body protectively, still barely conscious of the fact that you're dripping into the nest below you. But you don't really think that Namjoon was talking about you and he doesn't make you move once you snatch your hand back. Resting it loosely on Yoongi's hip, clutching at his shirt like you think someone is going to take him away.

Namjoon eyes your hand and then your face. You tip your chin down demurely like there can't possibly be any way you'd missbehave. Namjoon huffs, shaking his head before he ducks down.

The pack alpha examines Yoongi’s knot under an appraising eye. His big hands turning it this way and that, Yoongi’s eyes roll back no one gives him shit for rocking up into Namjoon’s touch, needy.

Does knotting always feel this way? There’s pressure in his lower stomach, a tightening that makes no sense. That sort of feels like his self-control is spiraling away or dangling on the edge of a very precarious edge. Like all of him is about to break or perhaps be made whole.

Yoongi doesn't like thinking of sex as something necessary for love. But knotting certainly feels like a cross between the two.

No wonder why alphas are such knotheads. If fucking always felt like this, like the sex equivalent of a full body hug that lasts for hours, instead of a singular moment of euphoria and closeness. Yoongi would never want to fuck any other way. No wonder why they're so possessive too.

This feeling- Yoongi’s not addicted, not yet.

You hook your chin over his shoulder to watch, sniffling. And Yoongi is a little too aware of you. The way your body lies against his arm, the dewy brush of his wrist on your stomach as you set your body against his. He must be going insane; he must have bit you again and given you a fresh mating mark. Because it feels like he can feel the mating mark wrapping around his cock.

You're a little more lucid because the pack’s sour scents cut through the breeding haze.

“Is Yoongi like- presenting?” Your voice sounds so small, so fragile. Yoongi bares his teeth at it. He tips his head into yours, nosing at the side of your face. Trying to reassure you. Trying not to bite. Hissing when Namjoon once again pulls at the skin of his knot.

“I don’t think so,” Namjoon says carefully, slowly. Reaching for Jin's glasses on the edge of the nest (because they're roughly the same prescription) so that he can take a look at the underside of Yoongi’s cock and the scent glands just below it.

They’re not puffy and not swollen like an alpha's. Alpha's knot to scent mark, not just breed. It's surprisingly a relief knowing that not all of Yoongi's biology has changed.

"He’s like still a beta? Right?”

“As far as I can tell yes.” Namjoon hesitates, poking at Yoongi’s knot harder. Eyes flicking up to measure his response. Yoongi does not snap at him, doesn’t do anything but lean against the column of Namjoon’s arm like he’s having a hard time holding his body up. When Namjoon puts his hand on the base of Yoongi’s throat, he doesn’t do anything but close his eyes.

"No- if you were an alpha you'd be biting my head off right now. You're definitely not presenting" Namjoon decides, begging that it's true. His own instincts are just a hum beneath his skin.

Namjoon might be a man of science, but he does trust his instincts more than he’d ever willingly admit. Namjoon's inner alpha is not chomping at the bit for a show of dominance and is not threatened by the sudden muskiness of another foreign knot. A shock in itself. Any scent of an unfamiliar knot combined with the smell of their omega in heat would make any of the alphas, even hoseok the tamest one, go feral. Packs work that way.

Beyond an extra layer of horniness, Yoongi’s thick chocolate scent has not changed. Not even a little bit once Namjoon sniffs and rolls the taste of it around on his tongue.

Namjoon presses the side of his face to Yoongi’s neck and closes his eyes. You can feel Yoongi’s heart flutter with how you’re holding onto his arm. After a moment namjoon pulls away. “You’ll be fine.”

You sag, a bit in relief. Yoongi? An alpha? If Namjoon says he’s not you believe him. Your brain is too hazy to think straight. But you decide you’re glad he’s not. Yoongi’s perfect- you’d hate it if something changed without his say-so. You babble, say it. And your mate covers his face.

“If I had to bet, I’d say it’s the mating mark. I’d like to take tests but-” Jin’s head jerks up, scent souring. Sensing a trip to the hospital before it’s even been said. Jungkook’s eyes on Yoongi don’t blink, grinning down at that knot with his hair in his face, already excited and dopey. As if talking about the hospital is enough to summon another seizure.

“After maybe. If it’s still a problem.” Namjoon caveats, pausing to rub down Yoongi’s arm, soothing him. Yoongi is still trembling. Still shaking so hard that he can't really move with any coordination.

“Has anything like this ever happened before?” Seokjin asks, carefully. Pillow over his bare lap. Namjoon has the good sense to at least put on some shorts. Jimin looks at Tae quickly and Tae does not return his gaze. Some secret soulmate conversation going on between them that you can’t read.

When you look up at Hobi- he’s watching your face. He doesn’t look away but after a moment he shrugs as if to say ‘Our beta has a knot- so what?’

“I’ve never heard of a beta popping a knot. I’m not sure. I think this might just be us.”

You groan, hiding your face under Yoongi’s chin. His breath heaves, and he turns back to you, nuzzling back.

“Is it my slick? Or the mating mark? Did I do this to him?” your eyes are wet, tears already threatening. You are already generally sensitive, and even more so in heat. Yoongi eases away your worries with a quick kiss to the side of your face. Cutting off your guilt before it has a chance to build.

“None of that now. If I had to change for anyone I’m glad it’s you.”

The pack is quiet around you, all in varying states of nudity. Quiet at the truth of what he says, how suddenly deep this has gotten. But he's right, you'd change for any of them. You wouldn't mind either. Yoongi rubs your cheek and you pull yourself half into his lap for a cuddle. Needy, too worn down to let it go. Yoongi’s hands go around your waist keeping you close. You melt into his arms, still sniffling.

"Your dick was perfect before though-"

"Sweetheart " he groans. You pull back from him, glancing down at his lap.

"What? I'm just saying-"

“Don’t look at it!”

Hoseok chokes back a laugh and tries to keep it in, but before you can help it everyone's laughing and covering their faces with their hands to keep from smiling.

“You didn’t cum at all. Did you?" Namjoon asks, eyes dark. Yoongi starts to lift the hem of the shirt you wear, showing.

“No, I didn’t.” Yoongi can feel a bit of skin at the base of his cock, still loose, still half popped. If you weren’t more preoccupied with holding your mate and controlling your weepyness. You’d be more curious about the knot pressed between your legs.

Maybe this is just resource-guarding. Classic omega in heat, of course, the most valuable resource is your mate.

“You know” Namjoon hesitates, looking from Yoongi to Jin. “Popping a knot without ejaculating sperm is kind of medically dangerous-”

“Namjoon-” Jin scolds.

“Sorry- without Cuming is actually kind of dangerous. Especially because it’s like, not typical for you to have a knot.” Namjoon licks his lips, "We should probably make sure that it's like- working."

You don’t know if it’s hornyness or just Namjoon being concerned for Yoongi’s health (probably a little bit of both) but you perk up. Blinking at the pack alpha who looks a little strained. A little like he’s trying not to look too much.

Across the nest, Jungkook shuffles forward, blatantly eyeing Yoongi’s knot like he’s just found his new favorite toy. But no sooner is he putting his hand on the beta’s tight before Jin is pulling him back the collar. "No no no pup, that's not yours yet."

He lets out a little bereft whimper but you hardly notice. Eyes bright and directed up at Namjoon. Like it honestly hadn’t occurred to you that now that your mate has a knot that means he can use it. Yoongi can knot you now. Pack Alpha is so smart! You don't know how it didn't occur to you yet but-

Oh, you really want that. You really want Yoongi to knot you.

The self-consciousness Yoongi felt earlier is entirely forgotten. You’re a little dumb in heat. A little floaty. Yoongi doesn’t mind. This is why you have packmates, to make these complicated decisions for you.

Yoongi’s hands are still firm around your waist. If Yoongi does have a knot now, for the time being, then you should get first dibs.

You whine, he was perfect without it really but you really really really like knots, your squishy omega brain is convinced that you need it. That it’s yours and your packmates are suddenly keeping it from you. You bare your teeth. No bite, all bark. You'd actually growl at them if Yoongi’s hands didn't clamp down around your waist. Hard. Harder than he usually touches you. It jogs you out of your reverie.

Marks. Kis fingers hold you hard enough that you could have bruises. Good. You want marks on you and on him. Your mating mark isn't enough. Not now, not with Yoongi having a knot.

“Should I, should you-” The pack settles in, ringing both you and Yoongi, as you stare each other down, both of your scents spiking wildly as you take each other in. Seeing each other in a new light.

Yoongi laughs, deep and rough. And you get shivers down your spine. Your voice is high-pitched and squeaky from the strain. "Don't tease me."

He nudges the underside of your jaw with his nose. "Come on, it's sorta easy" his teeth brush your mating mark and you gasp, the threat of a bite but not a bite at all. "and you like it."

The pack looms closer so close they can reach out and touch, can reach out and feel. "Should we watch? I think we should watch" “Yes. Definitely yes.” “Yes, I think we should, yes please.” "they're so pretty when they fuck."

But Jungkook huffs, a little bratty, a little bit upset that there's a knot he's not allowed to ride. "Can't I get one lick?"

"No Koo" Jungkook jerks against his hold.

"If I lick it, is it mine? While she rides it does it count if I lick it?” Jungkook gets dragged over Jin’s lap for that one, completely happy with it as the other omega lands several swats over his behind. Giggling as he goes.

The slapping sounds are distant. Jungkook's skin glows from the force of the hits but his cheeks are round from his smile sweet. A Spanking? You'd like one of those. Maybe you can provoke it from one of your packmates sometime later. You might need a settling after this.

Your brain is a mess of wants and instincts. But a spanking can wait. Yoongi's knot presses just under your pussy and you grind onto it experimentally. Tingles of pleasure filling your whole body. Good. It's so good. You snarl.

“No. No Jk- pup”

You are not paying attention as Jungkook tries to claw his way over to you; laughing, making a game of it. You and Yoongi are not speaking but you are communicating. Every grit of his teeth says mine, and every twitch of his hands on your hips says keep going. You look down at your mate and lick your teeth, polishing your canines as you eye him. The line of his throat. The pinkness of his nose. His chest- everything.

As Yoongi huffs, half fond. Cheeks slowly warm the more your eyes roam, the more you look and hunger.

It’s not that you’ve never been a sexual creature and it’s not that Yoongi has never seen you want him. But too often have you been like Noodle. Too frequently has he been the steward of your lust, carefully encouraging it and letting you be fickle and safe. Every time you've had sex you've been timid. he’s always letting you know through every breath that you’re not too much and that you can have it in any way that you want.

But now- now you’re eyeing Yoongi like you want to eat him.

Your brain is too syrupy and slow to do more than grind against his knot (like I said, all bark, no bite) your pussy dribbles onto it. The glide of your slick hole so much against such sensitive skin, pressed between your body and his. An omega possessed. An omega on a mission.

He’s been on the business end of many knots but this- this is different. Your eyes are open hardly blinking, Jungkook’s hands trail up Yoongi’s thigh to his hip.

"You're hiding it-" he whines, bratty. But gets snapped back into the alpha's waiting jaws. More spanks. until someone, Jimin maybe is tugging at Jungkook's cock between his legs while he gets plugged up by Namjoon's knot. Namjoon's the only one out of all of them that can truly distract Jungkook. Can possibly stop him from trying to covet Yoongi.

Yoongi's knot doesn’t belong to him. As his mate you have rights.

You push him back to lie in the nest and Yoongi lets you. It’s instinct to straddle him, to get him under you where he can’t move. Even though you don’t usually fuck like this with you on top. You don’t know why this in-heat version of yourself seems preoccupied with riding or not riding, maybe it’s a control thing or vulnerability.

Your body is unused to the heat, unsure of quite what the edge of want and don’t want to meet. Unsure if you want all the control or the complete lack of it. You are weak to your instincts. Weak, even though you know if you just lied back Yoongi would take care of you.

Your instincts give you neither choice nor reason nor want for anything, anything but this. Hoseok's hands slide up Yoongi's knees, touch your lower back, everything. Everyone everywhere touching both of you. Egging you on with their bare teeth and wildly sweet scents.

The head of Yoongi's cock slides up and through your slick, catching on your hole for a moment before it pops away,

You don’t know who guides Yoongi’s knot to your fluttering hole, only that it’s there. It’s easy to sink back, eyes furrowed as you concentrate on the feeling of getting Yoongi’s knot inside of you, cheeks warm at the eyes of the pack on you.

Beside you Tae paws at Jimin’s knot he makes a nose in his throat, but Tae’s all smiles. “Minnie likes it.” She croons in a singsong tone. Hooking an arm around his waist and sliding her hands under the elastic hem of his boxers to toy with him.

There is breath on the back of your shoulder, condensation turning your skin dewy. A hungry alpha ready to swallow you whole. Looming. You don’t look to see who it is, who's looking over your shoulder watching Yoongi’s face as you ride him.

You have a sinking suspicion it might be Hobi.

You fall into a slow rhythm appreciating the way that it feels, nudging at your entrance. Filling you routine. You’re getting better at this setting the pace on your own. Moving at a steady rhythm. A rhythm that makes you sigh and squeak. Your body feels so far away. The ache in your knees, the soreness in your hole, and the tiredness in you are all impermanent compared to the pleasure.

You focus on the feeling of your hands on his chest and the pleasure that comes with fucking yourself down on his knot. It’s a good knot. Not too big, not too small, just right. Everything about Yoongi is just right for you. You mewl as you speed up your pace. Instincts burning for more more more.

Sweat bleeds down your back and Yoongi’s jaw rolls, unblinking below you. Someone wipes away a bit of drool on your jaw and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. Tipping your head back.

“Does it feel good pup, the way his knot feels in your little hole?"

"Not so little anymore," Tae snickers, "she's practically bouncing on it."

Yoongi’s knuckles are white with how hard he holds your hips, doing his best not to guide your rhythm or disrupt it. Someone's hand is in your hair, tugging and tangling with it, pulling you up and down.

Namjoon leans down to whisper in Yoongi’s ear. “Good huh? Pussy fucking you up hyung? Gonna be a little bitch and make a mess in our pup? Gonna put your little knot where you want and breed her?”

Yoongi lets out an achy moan. And hope that you didn’t hear that. Or feel how it makes him twitch and pulse. Knot seconds from popping. Already mostly popped from before. He’s not going to last. Yoongi knows it will be quick.

"Bet you can feel how I fucked her open for you huh?"

Yoongi does not pause to push Namjoon’s face away as the alpha bites his shoulder- his ear- his everywhere. Namjoon's not nearly as unaffected as he pretends to be but Yoongi is too focused on you.

Yoongi has always been the perfect fit, not quite as long as Hobi or as thick as Jimin or the type of knot that makes you feel it for days after like Tae and Namjoon. It’s a good thing you’re a size queen because now you can fuck yourself down on Yoongi’s knot, regardless of the size it threatens to swell too.

Yoongi’s knot is about as thick around as Namjoon’s cock is normally so you still struggle to go all the way down, but stretching yourself around the wideness is good, feels nice. Sates the fire inside of you. His knot presses all nice and hot snug against that spot inside of you. You babble it, saying how good good good your mate is, how you can feel his cock stretching you out and breeding you. Almost mindless from pleasure.

Almost but not yet.

Yoongi slides his palm from your stomach up to your sternum, under the black shirt you wear, stroking over your skin lazily before his fingers tangle in the material, pulling it. using it to guiding and goad you into fuck him faster. Saying nothing. Eyes on you. Dark and heavy-lidded.

To shut you up (not because he wants you to shut up but because he wants to hold off from cumming for as long as he can). Yoongi gets his feet under him and drives his hips up. Fucking up into you. Faster and faster until you can tell you're almost taking all of it. All of it. As much as you can.

“That’s it, there you go baby. Fuck her like an alpha. She wants to take it, you just have to help make her.”

“Come on hyung, fuck her like you mean it.”

Beside you, Tae's hand works underneath the waistband of Jimin's boxers, a thumb hooked there lazily. Stilling for a second. Her knuckles wrapped around his knot probably. Hobi is tucked along Jin's side, hips stuttering working. Watching you and Yoongi. Namjoon grins, showing his teeth.

You have almost all of his knot in you now, everything but the widest bit, just a little more, just a little and you’ll have it. You bounce up and down on it experimentally. You grin, very very convinced that you don’t have to wait for Yoongi’s knot to go down to continue.

Your mate's hands circle your wrists, holding them hard, pulling you down hard every time you pick yourself up, trying to keep you stationary. But Yoongi’s needs are very very far away in his mind.

It’s almost better this way, looking down at him, working your body down his knot. Testing the give and breathing through it the way that Namjoon has taught you to breathe through taking his knot. The pack all around, watching you and encouraging you. They're so close, it sort of feels like they're all fucking you this way.

Tae’s fingers dimple in your thighs and Jk rests his head along Yoongi’s tummy so he can watch his knot sink inside of you as a treat when he takes his spanking like a good pup. A strong hand in his hair to keep him from moving forward a few inches to lick. Pout on his face. When your pace stutters, body overtired from heat, Hobi's hand goes under your thigh to help pick you up, taking the weight of your body for you.

You finally get Yoongi’s knot inside of you, but it doesn’t stop there, you put your hands on his chest and pick yourself off of it again. It tugs but slips past the rim of muscle after a second, slick sliding down the big swollen curve of it. It takes some finesse, but your body gives way and his knot is once again hovering just on the precipice.

Then you sit yourself back down.

Jimin’s breathless curse against your throat feels almost guttural. You hardly hear it too focused on fucking Yoongi’s knot like a cock.

“Fuck, omega's knot fucking is-”

“It’s hot,” Jin says, leaning down to brush Yoongi’s sweaty bangs from his forehead. “How does it feel honey? Feeling your mate around your knot? All good? All nice and snug?”

“She’s-” Yoongi pants through it breath ragged, close to cumming, knot pulsating. “Warm” his voice is strained and he scrambles to reach for you. Yoongi’s lap, his whole stomach really, is covered in your slick. The slide is almost too slippery. If you weren’t concentrating so hard on keeping rhythm you’d tell him you love him.

“Overwhelming, feels like- feels like- fuck-”

But you know he already knows, can feel it in the way he touches you. The way he looks at you. Everything.

You squirt, wet noisy, little dribbles of cum flicking up across his chest, clamping down around his knot so hard that Yoongi has no choice. Your pace stutters and you sigh. You hardly notice the pleasure rocking through you, hardly notice as you start to tremble. Little ‘hng’ noises pushed from your throat with every sweet jut of Yoongi’s hips. Still fucking his knot all the way in and all the way out.

Yoongi fucks the same way he talks, sweet but firm. He cums that way too. Warm and slow. You feel every syllable and every drop.

But Yoongi has no words for the ecstasy of knotting you. Groaning deep, more guttural, more animal than you’ve ever heard him sound. Cumming, knot popping fully. Finally. Your legs shake and your head drops as it throbs and swells.

You finally stop riding him but he keeps pulling you down at the same second he sits up quick, until he's sitting with you in his lap. Wrapping his arms around you. Whipping your hair from your face, cupping your cheeks, forehead to forehead.

A bit of your squirt drips down the seam of his hip, the place where his thigh and stomach wrinkle. Staining the nest a darker shade of pink.

But there are hands to settle your giggles, his knot pulsates, and you feel wet and warm inside. You ease up and he holds you for a moment. Skin to skin. Breath to breath. Both of you panting through your comedown.

The others fall upon you.

Jin's hand cups your stomach, and Jungkook's teeth drive into Yoongi's shoulder with a quiet yelp and a 'yah jungkookie'. you love how grumbly yoongi gets when he's feeling sensitive but safe.

Namjoon tilts your chin up and kisses you, messy and filthy. When you part you feel dizzy from lack of oxygen. You can't yet register that you're panting, breathing heavily. Still sort of cumming. One orgasm blends into another. Having them around while Yoongi’s inside of you is so much. Good, but a lot as Tae strokes down your spine.

“Did good alpha?” You ask Namjoon.

“Did so well, so so so well taking Yoongi’s first knot.” Now he'll understand how possessive we can get of you. Now he'll get it.

Yoongi ignores him, but around you, the air is thick with the scent of the pack's pleasure. Hoseok ruffles Yoongi's hair than yours, you nuzzle into his wrist. Tae's hands are hungry, and exploratory.

(They watched you through all of this but never once did you wonder if you were pretty, never once did you worry about how it looked, if it was enough. There is a simple love that's here. A simple love between all of you. Through your heat- you've never once been self-conscious. With Yoongi’s knot snug in your pussy, and everyone praising you, you can't find it in yourself to be nervous or worried or feel anything but bliss).

There are familiar hands everywhere- reaching down, feeling where you and Yoongi are connected. The wet slick glide of an omega properly seated on a knot. Tae’s lips pressed against your tit while her delicate fingers paw at your pussy, not a kiss, not a suck, but a pout.

You let her until Yoongi hums, overwhelmed, and then lean down to bite her. Popping back, licking your teeth, echoing a soft "sorry" when you've realized what you've done.

Yoongi shivers as Jin runs a hand up and down his stomach, knuckles brushing yours. Namjoon crowds in behind you. Pushing you both down into the nest. His pack alpha herding tendencies are at play but he’s a warm and reassuring presence behind you. They all settle in to cuddle you and keep both of you safe until Yoongi’s knot goes down long enough to make sure that you’ve been adequately bred.

Everyone's sort of lying on top of each other. Namjoon behind you, Jin behind Yoongi, Hobi trying and sort of succeeding in squirming his way in between Jin and Yoongi. the pack are noisy. but you sort of love the noise.

"You're pinching my skin hyung." "Wait wait wait, this will be more comfortable." "Namjoon she needs room to like-breathe." "Ow my knee like- cannot stay in this position." "Jungkook!"

The older omega lets Hobi muscle his way in. Pressing a kiss and a nibble to the back of his neck in admonishment. Jungkook sprawls across all of your stomachs and Tae rings the top and Jimin the bottom, guarding you and Yoongi against the door. Classic alpha.

Tae runs her hands over your hair, scratching at your scalp with her long fingernail. You push into her touch like a cat. She does it to you, then Yoongi. Yoongi’s hands skim up and down your hips and he’s breathing heavy.

“Love you,” he says.

he closes his eyes first but you just watch him. A chorus of voices join but you lean down, pecking him over his eyelids. Covering his body with yours. He doesn’t need to worry about anything.

Yoongi wraps his arms around you. Mumbling something into your ear quiet enough that the rest of the pack doesn’t hear. But let it remain a mystery. Let it remain for just you and him.

You rest and cuddle. And Yoongi keeps twitching inside of you. Every time you think that he’s done and that his cock can’t possibly give you anymore he starts to twitch again. Cuming just a little bit more.

It almost feels like Namjoon, who cum's a proportional amount to the size of his cock. Yoongi never normally cums this much, but you can't say you're complaining. One hand resting protectively over your tummy.

You hear Jin's familiar 'tsk' and fingers are at your hole. They guide a bit of spend back up into it. But your eyes are already closed.

You were already tired before and your heat still rages. It's not fire anymore. Something in you satiated. It's not a raging inferno but the kind of warmth that glows from coals, that sizzles on the edge of your skin, like deep-seated honeying of suns and far away stars teeming with wishes and life-giving warmth.

Yoongi decides that he wouldn’t mind doing this, just when you go into heat. He’ll get tests done later; Namjoon will drag him to the hospital after this week to take his blood and measure his hormones.

Dr.Pearl and another beta specialist will come to the conclusion that it’s both your mating mark and your slick that caused a momentarily biological shift that’s temporary at best and a one-off probably (it won’t be a one-off, Yoongi will grow a knot through every one of your heats after this). They’ll prescribe Yoongi less of your slick and a bit of distance from your scent during your pre-heat (both professional opinions that Yoongi will opt to ignore because seriously what the fuck?)

For now, you settle down atop him, keeping his knot safe inside, and go to sleep. Not before feeling each one of your packmates press a kiss to the place between your shoulder blades. Surprisingly sensitive, surprisingly ticklish. You feel it all. The brush of Hobi’s nose, the skim of Tae’s long hair. The plush feeling of Jimin's lips more like petals than skin. The brush of Jin and Namjoon’s stubble. The nibble of Jungkook's teeth.

Yoongi’s lips remain planted to your forehead, he sleeps that way through the rest of the afternoon. The little huffs of his breath tickle your baby hairs, and you can’t say that you mind.

Being the lowest member in the pack’s hierarchy means different things for each pack. Especially with two older omega’s in heat, and you below them in the hierarchy.

As the days drag on, you feel like a bit of a chew toy (not that you’re complaining).

As the lowest packmate in the hierarchy, you bear the brunt of it when their instincts shift from hungry to nesty. The breeding’s mostly done (mostly, but not quite) now is time for nesting, for preparing. It takes time for seed to take. That time that you spend cuddled close. Safe between Jin and Jungkook. Walled in on either side, safely tucked between their chests. Both of their heartbeats beat through either ear.

At least until you wake up.

You omega’s are a conspiratory little bunch. The nest is deep and colorful with many spots to hide. You do not try to hide from Jinnie or Jungkook, there is no need to. the alpha’s are who you hide from, peaking over the edge of an inner nest, the walls built up a bit like an igloo. The three of you playing a pretend game of hide and seek.

Hiding from them and the pleasure that they give you. Because they want to get in the way of all your fun.

It’s not getting in the way of the fun so much as it’s partaking in it, sticking their knots where you need them- but where is the fun in simply fucking? Foreplay is where all the fun happens anyway. Bouncing on a knot can get so boring.

Unless it’s Yoongi’s knot of course. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of that. His refractory period is a lot longer than the other alphas, even Namjoon who tends to knot for a good 30 minutes. You’ve had him 4? Maybe 5 times since the first? And now he slumbers, hips ringed with hickeys, cock lying limp and pretty pink against his stomach, utterly spent.

You’d ridden Yoongi until he was trembling, until his breath came out as gasps and not growls. Until his knot couldn’t even pop anymore and Namjoon had quite literally scruffed you to get you off of him. Too sensitive for anymore. Twitching duly when you’d popped off for the final time, a glob of cum leaking down your hole to your other one.

And yet, you could tell by the smell of him that Yoongi was drowning in ecstasy, nothing about his scent in pain or discomfort. You did a good job. Your pack had told you, you did.

But still, your mate needs his rest, in the meantime, the omegas can play.

The morning is thick and heavy, sunlight slow moving like honey when the alpha’s start to wake to the sound of soft breathy moans. the alpha's don’t immediately register that none of them are awake and that it’s purely omegan whines and whimpers that coat the air in the sound and smell of sweet pleasure.

Honey, cake, and cream.

Jungkook giggles softly, looking down and you can’t help but smile too- dopey. Fucked out. Fucked dumb. They’re not exactly surprised that you’ve gone non-verbal. Babbling only for Tae and Yoongi when they seriously prod you for a question.

This is just another spike of your heat only… you didn’t bother to wake your alpha’s up for it. You don’t really need your alpha’s knot when Koo is so soft and when Jinnie is- honestly very big for an omega, perfect enough for a bit of comfort in your hole.

But putting the pack omega’s cock all up inside you would not be good. You want to be good for Jungkook, your nestmate who has bitten you so thoroughly your skin aches from his teeth. From your chest to your shoulders and neck. To your hips and backside. Everywhere he’s bitten you up. So that anyone who sees you will know.

The three of you giggle and rub. What started as cuddling and a bit of grinding has become something different.

You and Jungkook hover above Jin lying down, Jungkook teased him a little bit ago for his grandpa's behavior, for not wanting to move and being too cozy. His omega cock stands hard and proud. Not terribly big, but not as small as Jungkook either. You and Jungkook seem not to notice the difference.

You and Jungkook sit perched above Seokjin, the pack omega’s hands roaming without care. His face is pink and his eyes are half closed, sleepy, and happy to let you and Jungkook take what you need.

At least Jin’s heat is near ending. Your and Jungkook’s roar in the meantime. You grind into each other, tummy to tummy, Jin below the two of you left to lazily rock up into the drippy sweet cleft between your pussy and Jungkook’s cock. It’s all very slick as you move against each other. Rubbing and grinding and giggling.

Hoseok blinks awake in the nest, picking himself up with a jerk.

A combination of your slick soaks Jin’s lap, and turns the grind sudsy, almost soapy as he slides up through your pussy kissing Jungkook’s cock. Omega’s do love to scent and rub and grind; you’re doing some mixture of the two. Not scissoring, but it would be scissoring if Jungkook had a pussy instead of the little nub he calls his cock. Jungkook reaches down, tapping his cock against your clit. You purr and squeak at it.

You’re… a bit of a mess, after having been fucked by every available alpha and Yoongi so hard like that earlier- your hole is a bit of a wreck, you're leaking slick and globs of alpha cum that Jin and Jungkook are only too possessive over. Pink when Jungkook reaches down to part your pussy with his hands and sees your wrecked entrance. He's too happy to smear it all over.

You can hardly blame Koo for his fascination, dragging his own little cock and forth between the mess. Putting his cock in (not that you can even close around it, small as Jungkook is) just to feel the heat of your body and what the alpha’s did to you.

It’s a good thing that most of Jungkook’s knot collection is locked safely away in the closet. Otherwise he might be tempted to see if you can take the largest one. The one that’s larger even than Namjoon that Jungkook's only managed to take on occasion when the pack feels like devoting multiple days into opening him up. The one that often leads to multiple days of aftercare because it actually is a little medically questionable for Jungkook to take.

Jungkook might have a bit of a thing for it; a size kink. thats never more apparent than when you're close. when he puts his hands around your waist and his hands almost meet. Watching you take things that look too big, that fuck you dumb like this is jungkook's favorite.

Now that the alphas aren’t making him feel so…so omegan, so fucked out. He’s sorry he missed most of it. He wants to see it again, wants to watch you get fucked open on namjoon's cock.

Jimin lifts his head from the nest, doing a double take and cursing when he realizes that it's not a wet dream just- just real. Namjoon rubs a hand across his jaw, sitting up on his knees in the half-darkness. Clearly he's been awake for a while. His hand goes ridged on Namjoon’s wrist but the pack alpha doesn't look down at him- he doesn't tear his eyes away from you three.

Namjoon’s cock presses up between his boxers, put on for modesty- and because normally omega’s in heat can’t be trusted not to get a little handsy. Hard, insistent. Now, Namjoon wishes that you'd get a little handsy. That would be better than just watching.

“You didn’t?…” he asks, trailing off. Namjoon swallows hard shaking his head. Namjoon already has his hand hooked into Hobi's collar, keeping him in place. Keeping him from interfering. Hobi lets out a lupine whimper. More a puppy than a man.

“Jin asked me not to intervene.”

The pack alpha’s restraint is legendary, especially when Jin giggles at the way you’re bouncing or trying to bounce on Jungkook’s cock. The pack omega tuts, and slips in besides Jungkook, half pushing him out of the way. Jimin starts, but there’s no reason to.

After fucking Namjoon there is more than enough room in your pussy.

The sight of you and Jungkook rubbing your used holes together is something that should honestly be recorded for the communal pack spank bank. The three of you pink-cheeked and healthy, and-

Knocked up. The three of you look like you’ve just been knocked up even though they know you haven't. Your skin glows healthy, your bodies supple and fed. Relaxed and loopy, showing the signs of the care the pack have lavished you with.

Jinnie's glowing too- skin smooth and blemishless, lips puffy and glossy from being kissed so much (as they should be). Although his glow is softer and less harsh. Jin’s heat is already ending, just another ten or so hours now. The fever quiets to a soft hush, a gentle need instead of a rabid one.

Was it the pack omega that dragged you and Jungkook to get off on top of him? It won’t be long now. Namjoon can tell you’re both close to cumming from the way you're shaking and the way Jungkook's breathing.

The slick glossy look of your thighs, your hiccups, the sight of Jin’s cock pressing between your slick folds, peaking out, rubbing against your clit, and the head of Jungkook’s little cock. The pack omega’s hands are hungry twitching as jin cranes back and inarticulately tucks his hands into both your holes. stroking both of them. Jin’s cheeks look round, pouting as he concentrates.

“Want pups, my pups, gimme,” you and Jungkook giggle, pressing sloppy kisses to each other’s mouths, Jinnie’s too- although the pack omega does little but pout and rock into the warmth. Into the wet.

The alpha’s watch and it’s torturous to keep themselves back. But they're good alpha's. When your and Jungkook's rocking reaches a fever's pitch and then quiets. Trembling and overwhelmed. Clinging to each other, threatening to topple.

When you’re finished there is more than one available knot, hard and aching, ready to sit on.

~-~

That’s not the last time that Jungkook seeks you out during his heat. far from it.

You’re not surprised that both his and yours have lasted longer than Jin’s (probably by a day or so). Your and his hormones spike and feed off each other, your heat spikes syncing until your packmates have to handle both of you at once. Your hand remains knotted with his, whining every time one of your alphas tries to cajole you gently away from him. Unwilling to be parted from him during knotting for comfort.

The lulls between Jin’s heat spikes get longer and longer while yours and Jungkook’s remain the same. Jungkook’s even speed up a little if anything.

Jungkook loves going into heat with you- he really does, it feels like he’s always reaching, always craning his neck to watch you. The tender nape of his neck is bruised from the number of times that the alphas have had to scruff him docile. All of him feels Bitten and nibbled at every available opportunity.

Really, Jungkook's sort of in heaven.

The alphas never throw him around the same way they do when he's in heat. They don’t treat him like he’s delicate, like he’s precious, especially with you around to dote on and fuss with. You take the brunt of Jin’s protective instinct too.

Jungkook can be as bratty as he wants, bite whichever alpha he wants, and chirp as long as he needs to. Outside of heat they rarely ever hold him down and make him take it. They always hold back. Only in heat at his most vulnerable do the alphas really stop treating him like he's fragile.

He likes pushing their buttons and making them bite. Now, Jungkook does it because he can't stand it.

Cute aggression? It must be cute aggression.

He wants to squeeze and nibble and wreck you, Watching as jimin tucks his face into your neck as his knot twitches, your entrances stretched tight around it and your legs wide open so that Yoongi can gift tortuously small touches to your clit, all but torturing it as you seem to squirt and squirt and squirt.

So much until you’re dripping around the hollow of his wrist. Your petal pink lips parted, ready for a nibble. He'd barely satiated his desire to mark you up earlier. The haze of hormones is thicker than smoke in the air, turning his brain mushy as he listens to Yoongi beg.

“One more, just one more for me. You made me cum until I couldn’t anymore so now it’s your turn.”

You sob, but thats not a no. Your knees get brought up. Cute, plush, like a fucking stuffed animal. Jungkook once again, gets the inexplicable urge to squeeze you.

The alpha's have you both pressed chest to chest. Underneath you, Jimin continues to drive his cock in smooth efficient bunches, a knot already popped inside. You'd asked him to be mean with it and sob you do. Begging and pleading for more more more at the same time you say you can't take another orgasam.

Jungkook remains above you on his hands and knees. Namjoon lies along Jungkook's spine. Punching a groan from Jungkook’s chest with every impossibly long and thick drag of his cock. Making the omega feel all of it.

A fresh wave of your slick squirts against jungkook's chest and Jungkook's arms buckle. He sort of falls half on top of you. Yoongi hums and puts Jungkook back on his hands and knees so that he can keep touching your pussy. Jungkook rests his body against Yoongi's arm to keep himself up. Mouth open.

Jungkook thinks he might imagine it. He must, because he can feel Namjoon’s cock pressing against his tummy, feel it as the bulge kisses your skin the give of your belly button.

Your giggle feels like a punch to his gut. As your hand slides up his slick stomach to palm at the belly bulge, touch him the same way he touched Namjoon's cock through you. He loves it. He presses his forehead against yours, your eyes just as dilated and as gone as his. Rubbing his face against yours in a half kiss- half scent mark.

There's a lot of squirting, mostly from you. Jungkook likes watching you squirt. It's so pretty.

Jimin yanks his knot out of your hole, a move that he wouldn’t be able to pull if you hadn’t been knotted by Namjoon recently. Perhaps inspired by watching you knotfuck Yoongi. Pulling at you so hard that it honestly to god looks like it hurts, it looks mean. It makes you squirt violently again against Jungkook's straining abdominal muscles.

Jungkook bites your cheek. Hmm, squishy.

He bites the other side, and it blooms under his teeth.

You tremble and almost seem to pass out of a second. And then- really do pass out once Namjoon pulls back, reaches around Jungkook, and says something to Yoongi, who pulls his fingers away from your clit, you jerk trying to chase the pleasure. Only to run headlong into Namjoon’s hand, landing hard over your clit.

You gush through Namjoon’s fingers, soaking the place where he and Jungkook join. At the same moment Namjoon shoves his slick-coated knot into Jungkook’s hole.

Your head lols back against Jimin's shoulder and you let out a single broken whimper. they're pushing you to your breaking point. (But you have a gut feeling that once you break and they put back together, you'll finally feel whole).

Across the nest, Jin perks up a little horrified. He's being fussed over by Tae and Hobi, happily doted upon while Hobi's knot rests safe inside. knot warming. Comforting Jin through the end of his heat. Hobi turns and Tae starts to get up to intervene but then-

Jungkook giggles at your sobs, lapping at your tears. Clenching wildly and grinding back against Namjoon’s knot, the pack alpha moves him so that Jungkook can press his lips to your slack mouth.

You blink, dazed, look up at him.

“Meanie Joonie” Jungkook giggles, the omegaspace haze so thick he can hardly string a coherent sentence together. “Meanie Minnie! Meanie Yoonie! Again! Wanna see!” Jungkook moves, trying to get his hand in between your legs to spank your clit again, but his swats don’t do anything, too gentle.

Jungkook is literally getting the daylights fucked out of him right now, he hardly has the energy to lift his own head, let alone spank your pussy the way he wants.

oh, after this heat, after this, he's going to have so much fun figuring out how much you can take.

Yoongi's teeth look incredibly sharp, a little feral at being asked. But Jimin nods and fuckes his knot out of you and Yoongi spanks your clit again. You've never squirted so many times in a row but you leak like a faucet now.

The next flood of your slick lands on Jungkook’s cock. Jutting against your stomach with the force of Namjoon’s thrusts. He giggles again. Shifting closer away from Namjoon- hissing at the tension around his knot. So that Jungkook can press your slick stained and swollen tummies together better.

When he cums too seconds later, from another brutal press of Namjoon’s knot to his prostate and a mean pinch to the head of his cock- he giggles and uses his hand to spread his spend over your stomach.

You’re already lost to exhaustion. But Jungkook pecks your nose, tucks his face under your throat, and goes right to sleep.

When Jungkook wakes, he's still like that. He's not being filled, and things are calmer.

The freshly fallen night is a hush on the edge of the nest, There is a different need coursing through him. A different sort of wanting. A physical hunger. His body is exhausted, sore, and bitten.

Your chest smells like Tae's lipstick, like her kisses. Jungkook’s pretty pretty pretty alpha, the prettiest alpha that is on the other side of the nest, talking with Jin and sharing soft kisses. She must have come over earlier to check on you, must have kissed you here.

Jungkook is dimly aware of her soft words, “Do you want a knot Jinnie? Some food? Some water? A cloth? How are you feeling? Does anywhere ache my love?”

Jin's answering hum is exhausted but happy. After a second he quietly admits, “My thighs hurt.”

Yoongi is summoned, Hobi too. To squeeze and help relax the pack omega. The sound of his squeaky laugh and shy moan a welcome return.

Jungkook dozes while you and Jinnie rest, his body over your body, lined up chest to chest, nuzzling first at your throat and then lower when Jungkook's instincts tug at him. The pack is not as worried about him being snappy. They've long since decided that whatever happened at the beginning of the heat was just that- an anomaly at the beginning. Both of your instincts settling.

But now, Jungkook crouches over you like an alpha might. Protective.

Possessive.

There is something syrupy sweet in the air, just below your skin. Jungkook couldn’t smell it until he started nosing at your throat, but now he can. Something laces through your veins, something that smells divine, something that he can almost taste, like sugar only sweeter.

He begins to move lower.

Your breasts smell like Tae, like alpha, they’ve been given so much attention, teeth marks and bruises line your areolas, Tae has sucked your nipples pink and sensitive and stiff puffy already. Imprints of Jungkook’s pretty alpha and her pretty teeth stay there like a shadow, a bruise. There is a word you call her, 'mommy.' He likes it when you call her that. It has Jungkook’s pretty alpha smelling muskier and impossibly prettier.

Jungkook’s mouth is perilously empty, it's starting to bother him. Jungkook lips his lips. Dry.

Her voice comes distant now, your hands push at Jungkook’s shoulders when he noses, but only briefly before Jungkook’s pretty alpha tuts, holding you still and keeping you from squirming as he noses, pushing through your sweet skin, searching for something. Girl omega’s are so soft. So soft everywhere.

Jungkook loves it. Is this Omegaspace? Or pupspace? Or some combination of the two.

Something starts squirming underneath him, a chest rising and falling, a heartbeat beating rabbit prey fast. But the squirming stops as quickly as it begins. Jungkook's pretty alpha looms closer, coming to see what you're fussing for and cooing at your quiet squeaks and chirps.

Tae's wrist is close, close to Jungkook's teeth as she grabs your wrist and holds you steady. Restraining you gently. “Let Jungkook have at you pup, he’s been a very good omega, don’t you want to help soothe him?”

Of course, Tae does not notice that Jungkook's going after something new, and does not notice that this isn't normal soothing. Sucking at your chest is her favorite thing. She doesn't think anything strange of Jungkook's hungry licking and desperate sucking.

There is some sweet whining on the edge of Jungkook’s senses. Independent of the sweetness beneath his nose, the warmth reaches his lips and he opens his mouth to suck. His breath going ragged.

Closer, closer still, warm and soft against his face, like a nest made flesh, like Jungkook’s nest in one person.

Jungkook sucks at your chest, lips pressing once they find the source of it- of that smell. Your nipple on the roof of his mouth is exactly what he'd been missing. Comforting. You are so soft, so soothing. He likes it. There is no fire from heat with you here at his front and yet, Jungkook still burns. The sweet smell under your skin is closer this way. Jungkook needs it, needs you like water. Clinging.

His taste buds spark with something, just a little at first then more the more that he sucks. Jungkook makes a soft sound and Tae just shushes him. Alpha, he wants to speak, alpha found it! His squishy Omegaspace brain wants to tell Tae. The urge to show and tell is quickly overridden by the need for more.

It's so sweet. So fatty that Jungkook's head spins. Mouth filling with liquid that tastes like you, but a bit like Jinnie too.

You taste Milky.

Jungkook's eyebrows come together and Tae teases, her fingers running against his cheek slowly filling. throat bobbing Her voice sounds like it does when she's grinning. Tae can be forgiven for not immediately realizing what’s happening because Jungkook is swallowing it down before any of it has a chance to make it to open air, gasping and sucking wildly. Hungry.

"Oh, tasting something good bunny?" Jungkook's sure she must be smiling even though his eyes are still closed. Still half asleep but waking up.

A little more, something hot and sweet fills his mouth, and Jungkook sucks it all down, more with every tight press of his lips. Your squirming stops and you sigh, going rim rod straight for a second and then relaxing.

You're staring up at Tae all dazed and cute, letting out sweet babbles of "mommy mommy-alpha mommy please." Your toes curling in the nest. But who knows what you're asking for.

tae reaches down and puts her fingers in your mouth, giving you something to suck at, quieting your desperate whimpers.

Jungkook doesn't like it, doesn't like her touching you. this milk is his- it belongs to him. The milk sweet and fatty fills his mouth, slowly at first, then more. You stop squirming below him, sighing in relief body going slack. Jungkook's arms go firm around your waist, holding you still, holding you close.

It's good, yummy even. Jungkook sucks more and more and more without really understanding. His heat-fried brain not sorting through the facts of the situation.

"Does Jungkook feel good little pup? Is he making you feel all tingly?" Tae teases, softly now, like she's conscious of the idea of waking everyone else up. She leans down crouching over to nip at your throat. Settling you. But there's nothing to settle, your head lol's to the side, staring blankly ahead. Whimpering. drooling around tae's fingers, she takes them out and slips them down your throat. stroking gently.

"Hopefully he doesn't bite you too sensitive because it's my turn once he's done, gonna squirm and cry for me gonna-" Tae breaks off, inhaling jagged.

Jungkook's tongue rolls against your nipple, keeping a small dribble from slipping down your body. Lips parted in ecstasy, a single drop drips from his tongue onto your skin, just a little.

But it's enough.

There is something pearly, dribbled down around your sternum. Almost translucent, but still white and cloudy.

Tae blinks like she can't really believe it.

Then she growls, loud, shocked. violent enough to wake the others. Whereas before she'd been stroking through Jungkook's hair, now her hand goes vicelike and tries to pull him off. Jungkook whines and squirms, unwilling to be parted from you until Tae growls again in warning.

Namjoon picks up his head from the nest at the sound. Jin blinks awake against his throat and Yoongi shifts and shuffles awake. Rubbing his eyes with a closed fist when he sits up.

When Tae finally succeeds in pulling him off of you, he looks almost hurt, pouting up at her. Tae's gaze eviscerates him. Their eyes narrow at the spill of it, the glimmer of milk on his lips. A bit of milk dribbles down Jungkook's cheek. Traveling down his collar bones to his pectorals and abs, gathering in his belly button, in the little furrow of skin between his lap and tummy.

Tae's finger gathers it on her fingertip and guides it back up to Jungkook's mouth, a breathless growl. Incredulous, near worshiping.

"Messy puppy."

How many more biological surprises could the pack possibly have in store for them? They're a little too tired to be particularly alarmed, and yet, they drag their bodies over. To make sure, to see.

To taste.

Hoseok hangs his head, his whine supine. "Jesus fucking Christ, you-" Namjoon looks away then looks back again. Like he can't quite bring himself to watch and can't quite tear his gaze away.

“I’ve only just gotten used to the idea of Yoongi knotting and now-"

Jin wordlessly rubs a hand over his face, Jimin doesn't say anything, trying to muscle Yoongi out of the way, looking down at you with something indescribable, at Jimin's movement, Namjoon's hands go to your elbow, your wrist, and Jin snaps.

"No, everyone behave. She is not a chew toy."

Everyone goes quiet, admonished. Tae continues to hold you, still looking down, and Jin realizes that if he's not careful, everyone is going to snap. Tae is going to snap. He can see it in the tremble of her body, the curl of her teeth over her lip, her control is seconds from snapping. Her scent spikes climbing higher and higher, almost smelling like she's in rut.

but you're his pup. jin bends under the force of his instincts, checking on your first. Jin leans over you, brushing the hair out of your eyes, and revealing your glassy fuzzy gaze.

"Daddy?" you ask, confused. Jin hasn't heard that name in a little while, not that he's complaining.

"Sweet little puppy, my sweet little pup, are you alright, is it too much?"

Your hand's press and release in the nest. "No just- just hurts- aches, Koo.” Your eyelashes flutter, “Koo makes it better.”

Jungkook is a possessive little thing, hisses and splutters and clings to your front. even as yoongi and namjoon try to get him off of you You squirm looking up at Tae and Yoongi and Jin, the haze cuts for a moment and they recognize your franticness as more than just overstimulation.

"Do you want us to get Jungkook off of you?" Yoongi asks, voice husky. Namjoon holds Jungkook prepared to wrench him off of you if you say so. Jungkook isn't in his right mind, but Yoongi can't help but watch as he sucks like a man starved, throat bobbing with every swallow. His cheeks warm and round-looking. Oh, oh this is-

Yoongi is getting hard. The skin around his new knot tugging. He really really thought that after this morning when you rode him like your life depended on it- that would have been that.

You nod then shake your head. "Want Mommy to choose- want Tae-tae."

Namjoon uses the hand in Jungkook’s hair to pick him up off of you for a second. Jin has to pinch the back of his neck to get his teeth to release. Your nipple is pink and bitten when his mouth finally leaves you.

They watch for a second, but it barely takes a moment before the milk is back, dribbling out, trailing down the curve of your breast. Jungkook is still half asleep. Shifting downward happily when he realizes the pack don’t mind it if he licks up whats spilled. Bending down to lap up what’s trailed down to your tummy and navel.

Tae's nostrils flare and her eyes are all pupil, dark and brown, and glassy. Yoongi jogs her out of her reverie.

"Tae." he asks, an edge of dominance to his voice that wouldn't have sounded the same yesterday, not before Yoongi had a knot. Yoongi shakes his head, wordlessly. And he sees Tae return to herself, just a little.

You squirm under Jungkook. Upset, lower lip wobbling. "No, I want, want Koo- it- it aches-" Tears bead at the edge of your eyes and Yoongi is not thinking, not truly, when he reaches down to feel.

You whine as Yoongi toys with your chest, fingers rubbing gently over your wet peaks, rolling them until more milk beads. Mesmerized. Slowly at first and then more aggressively, tugging at them until your back arches.

"Tae," Namjoon's voice is stressed, Jimin shuffles up beside her, offering a comforting touch on her shoulder. "Tae" Namjoon repeats, a bit more command in his voice, her gaze jerks up in his direction.

"Yes"

"Can you handle this without going into rut?"

"Yes alpha." Namjoon watches her for a second longer. Judging the haze in her eyes, and then tips his head down. Permission. But Namjoon is nearby, Namjoon is watchful and wont let any of them go too far.

It’s gentle- how the alphas manhandle you, placing you square in Namjoon's lap, reclining there for your mommy to have her turn. He can hold your wrists this way, you want to squirm, need to squirm. The ache is overwhelming. You just want to full feeling to end. Jungkook was so close to making it go away.

“Be still little treasure, sweet sweet pup, let Taetae have what’s hers.”

Jungkook tries to go back. But Tae doesn't let him, muscling him out of the way until she growls and nips. Speaking with snarls and whines and not with words. But Jungkook is but a pup beneath Tae's play wrestling. She's always been stronger than him and after a brief scuffle of push and pull, he whines. Resting his head on your shoulder.

Tae can hardly think through it. Her pup, her sweet little pup, chest swelling from her attention. Was it her sucking that did this? Was it her sucking that tugged your biological impulse until it shifted into real change?

You are so perfect she could cry, she could knot the air with how horny it makes her.

Tae looks at your face, your tears spill down your cheeks and your voice cracks, "Mommy?” you think if Tae checks, if she makes sure that you’re okay, everything will be fine.

Tae lowers herself gently over you, hair tickling your skin, and connects her mouth to your chest.

Tae is immediately gone, milk filling her mouth that tastes like ambrosia, like the heavens made liquid, like home. she grinds her popped knot against the nest as she sucks and sucks and sucks. immune to your squealing. Hand reaching down to paw uncaring of your overstimulation. You're as wet between your legs as you are on your chest. Her brain is a mess of more and more and more.

For a second, Tae's alpha convinces her that she's actually done it, she's actually pupped you. Why else would you be sweetening so much? Why else would you be like this, sweet and swollen on her tongue.

You're getting slick all over the nest again, Tae can feel slick gathering around her wrist, fingers losing their concentration, so focused on getting more milk in her mouth, sucking that she forgets to finger you properly. Your chest is so sensitive you feel like you could scream. Every suck makes you sob in overstimulation.

Above you, Yoongi curses.

Each packmate must have their turn with you, once they all rouse and confusion quickly melts away into downright giddiness. It's dizzying, your eyes are closed half the time, and the other half you're not sure you can make sense of what's infront of you either.

Brain settling into that place where everything feels good, where nothing matters but the pleasure and the soft praises falling from their mouths. Namjoon muscles Tae out of the way for a taste after she's turned slack-jawed and milk-drunk. And his spiky head pressed against your skin makes you feel- makes you-

Obey obey obey. You lose track of what’s happening, but your pack does give you what you want, what your body needs. You don’t have to squirm too much before someone, one of your alpha’s or is it Yoongi? Shuffling between your legs to bury his head in your chest.

Having them feed from you is a flurry of sensations. They bury their faces in your chest, hair tickles skin, stubble pressing. Someone giggles, Tae maybe. She presses a kiss to your button mouth. Eyes furrowed as you cry and cry and cry.

You don’t understand why you’re crying, why you’re overwhelmed. But you don’t need to think too hard about it or anything. Any needs that you do have are taken care of.

The pack always know what you need, that you need to feel steady, held and kept. the second you start to push. They restrain you.

Why would you even need a breeding bench when you have your packmates to keep you still? There are hands holding you down everywhere, your wrists, your ankles. Your knees. You push against their touch just to feel them put you in your place.

And as much as you struggle to admit it, you do feel better, and less tense. Less full. Less like a rubber band poised to snap when they pull back.

You cum like that, fingers in your pussy, mouth around your nipple. You don't know how much you have or how much milk they're taking from you but it's enough to leave the alpha's milk drunk and dopey. Even Jinnie is a little dazed from it when he has his turn.

It shouldn't surprise you that Yoongi is the gentlest, pushing Namjoon away after you've come, kissing him, cursing low at the taste in his mouth.

"Really hyung, your mate, fuck-"

"Fuck." Yoongi agrees. Nosing at your chest before he latches, lips sucking your nipple into his tongue, waiting for that first spark. And oh- oh- drinking from you feels like cuddling. You could call him a sap and you'd be right but there's something so instinctual about it. He knots and you give milk. Round and round your instincts go on the merry-go-round until both of you get off.

Who knows maybe your body stopped and waited to make the shift until Yoongi's did.

You only really squirm when Jin guides Hoseok down. He's blushy and tries to pull back, But the pack omega doesn’t take his shyness for an answer without a no. All pups need to eat, all pups need to get their fill. Your milk smells so sweet, so filling. Lifeblood and love and satisfaction made sustenance. Your body wouldn’t be milking up so nicely if it wasn’t for your alpha’s. They should taste the result of their efforts.

Hoseok only lets himself take one mouthful, shivers rising up and down his body before he moves aside and lets Jimin have a taste.

Jimin- who almost immediately tries to bite and snarl. Nipping at your skin when tae jerks him away from you by his hair maw open. He's barely had a sit but that's enough for Jimin to turn feral. Immediately straining, immediately pulled in your direction. A dark purple bruise is already forming around your nipple. Too rough, Jin fusses, pulling a blanket over to you, building a nest around your body.

"No Jiminie- bad!"

Namjoon takes Jimin from Tae. The alpha snarls and splutters but whines when Namjoon snaps at his throat.

You are not lucid, not really. Eyes closed and reaching for your packmates. Someone touches you, hands frantically checking your body- but you want to tell them that Jiminie really- he just got a little teethie. It's okay. You're fine!

Tae bends to kiss it better. They guard you while the sound of snarls sound from the other side of the nest. Namjoon dealing with Jimin. They guard you. Their sweet milky pup, who could possibly be more precious?

After Yoongi has another turn, you decide dimly that it's a good thing, your body moving the edge of its tolerance and doing this. Lactating. Swelling with milk. Maybe it's because it's been so long since you've gone into heat.

After a few minutes, the bellies of your pack are warm nourished, and full. It’s okay, you can sit here like this, open and still for each of them to take a taste. Sucking your nipples pink and puffy.

“Is it permanent?” Jungkook slurs when he’s woken up a bit, yawning until his jaw pops, milk-drunk and sleepy. Nuzzling into your shoulder while Jimin gives you so much attention that you’re squirming (this time wearing Namjoon’s collar since someone needed to hold onto him and keep him from biting).

His ass glows where he sprawls and every time he so much as threatens to growl Namjoon leans over and pinches his sore behind. A warning that everything, all that sweet sweet milk in his tummy. Belongs to Alpha. Jimin can only have it if he's good.

“Is it gonna be like this all the time?"

There is a computer-cracking light on the edge of the nest, a square of light that Namjoon clicks through. Licking his lips again, although your milk no longer coats them. He brought it out earlier when Jin had questions about Yoongi, but now he’s glad to have close access to it.

“It’s fairly common with female omega’s, something about the extra glands and phantom pregnancies.” Namjoon’s voice has gone from hoarse to strong. Your milk on his throat.

Namjoon looks at you, then blushes and looks away.

You don’t know if you’ve ever made Namjoon blush like that. You still lay prone, blinking up at Tae. Wordless. Your brain is small under the feeling of so much attention. A tension in you is released easily.��

Jin gets up from the nest, so quick that he goes dizzy, he’s wearing boxers now, boxers, and a big shirt. Jin too had tasted you. A few swallows. Good, it tasted so good. But your head lolls in the nest to the side, letting out little shallow breaths as Jimin sucks at your chest, your other breast still swollen looking.

Oh, Jin's little pup. You're being so good.

Jin’s instincts bear down on him. An impressive weight that makes him buckle. “I need to go cook something. If everyone's going to eat but her- that’s- I-” Jin huffs and makes to leave the nest in a huff. determined and not the least bit wobbly.

Hoseok trails after. Lips glossy from milk, too flushed to think straight, tripping on the edge of the nest and hitting the door on the way out. Embarrassed a little- but then again everyone is paying attention to you so it goes without teasing.

Huh, the pack omega is leaving the nest. Does that mean the heat is over?

No not quite, you and Jungkook still burn with fever. It's just Jin's heat that's ended. Who knows, maybe one sip of your milk had his body reacting, reassuring him that the work is done, at least one omega got pupped during this heat (you certainly did not get pupped, the contraceptive did its duty, but your confused body has Jin's confused as well).

Although you squirmed initially, the fact of the matter is that once everyone's had a sip, your nipple sucked hard and glossy- it’s a little hard not to need it. The release of pressure, the tension. Your body makes more the more they suck.

You try to enjoy breakfast once Jin's made it, feeling warm and sleepy, bites fed to your mouth. Chewing and swallowing obediently. But it’s hard, you’re so tired. Unable to hold yourself up no matter how much they try and get you to. Limp propped against Yoongi's chest, Namjoon's, your body so heavy and so tired and now sore the second someone stops sucking.

No sooner has Yoongi slipped one of Hoseok’s shirts over your head than has wetness started to gather at the front and an uncomfortable pressure began to build. They give up and take it off because Tae is eyeing you hungrily and really. Your whines of displeasure and teary eyes are too much for them to handle. Simultaneously denied and overstimulated.

Tae sets you back against Jimin’s chest, the alpha holding around your middle. She may have had one sip earlier but now that they’ve established that yes feeding from you is something you need she’s going to hog you.

She ducks low, kissing your nose, your lips, your chin before she buries her head where you’re softest.

“Mommy mommy please.” You whine as she teases, using just her lips to mouth there, waiting until milk beads, sensitive, slip down your skin to lap it all up.

“Oh little pup, don’t want to let any go to waste? We can’t have that. You’re so sweet like this. How good you are- how lucky we are. Alpha’s fucked you so good you can’t help but milk up huh? Wanted a pup so bad that your body caught on before a pup did huh? How cute. Aren’t we so lucky Minnie?”

“So lucky,” Jimin groans, holding around your middle, hands pressed to your stomach. Slipping lower as Tae sucks.

There is some hushed whispering, a rustle of bed sheets, you blink up at the ceiling, and then a vibration sounds, and you let out a broken, “oh.” as it starts.

You turn, look, and Yoongi grins, tears bead at the corner of your eyes, but it’s hard not to rock up into it. You remember- the alphas putting a collection of vibrators and knots and dildos on the edge of the nest, in case they needed them. But it's a good reward now, an easy orgasm that hits you warm.

Your body is hungry for pleasure, endlessly hungry for it in heat. Tae laps up the center of your chest while she switches from tit to tit, both milk and sweat. Feral as she does it, a look down at her says her eyes are dark, teeth sharp.

But she’s so careful, so gentle as she sucks. Yoongi turns the vibration up higher, and you jerk, or try to. Sandwich in on all sides. Surrounded by them, carried to the precipice of pleasure by the vibrator pressed to your clit, keeping you pinned there beneath the waves of pleasure. So much. Too much. Your body is so sensitive from the last three days of this. You can’t possibly handle it.

“Can’t cum again, can’t Mommy, too- too little. Too much.” You babble, but Tae tuts. Pulling off of you, a bead of milk on her pink lips.

“Good pups cum as many times as their Mommy wants them to, come on pup, make a mess all over Mommy’s dress for me."

You obey her with a broken whimper.

~-~

notes:

namjoon is so fucking horny when he's talking about yoongi's knot and i lowkey love it, how kinda like- obviously guided by hornyness he is.

also it is 1000% the mating mark that's making yoongi have a knot like- his biology is all fucked up because beta's aren't supposed to mate, the hormones in his body that keep him neutral are being kinda 'adjusted' by the m/c's slick and mark and hormones.

me 🤝 the m/c, wanting to bite yoongi's nose.

i really wanted the scene with yoongi and the m/c to kinda be like- a final opus and like super intense, how did i do?

i struggled with writing some of the dialogue in this initially- which is so /not/ how writing usually goes for me, usually the dialogue is very easy to me but i worry that i'm getting a bit repetitive with my kinks.

honestly why do i feel the need to make the smut poetic like??? is this only for me or is this a thing???? "Yoongi fucks the same way he talks, sweet but firm. he cums that way too. Warm and slow. You feel every syllable and every drop." like thats so pretty.

the m/c bites tae because she's making yoongi overwhelmed and that's the m/cs job 😠.

okay but the reason why i describe yoongi as breathing heavy is because i personally may have...stumbled uppon a audio of his breathes and him breathing heavy and fuck if that isn't hot.

part of yoongi's smutt scene was inspired by badoobee's 'real man' so yeah, i don't really really really like the message of her song, but it is sexy so 🤷‍♀️

yoongi with the life fucked out of him: 😵‍💫 mc: i did a good job 🥰 honestly though in my mind he has trouble being in the same room as her after she litterally rides him until he can't cum anymore.

honestly jk and her holding hands while they're both getting fucked is such a cute image like fuck i love them so much. i love this version of jungkook so much- i'll always be happy with his charecter in bily.

dang, i really did make jungkook's parts super super horny.

i feel like everyone who reads this should know it's completely possible to make yourself lactate just from nipple stimulation like- even if you're male. lowkey when am i going to write a normal non-abo total power exchange fic with cisswap taegi turning the m/c into their little milksub, and they decide (because the m/c's mommies know best) that they'll put her through a sucking schedule to see if they can make her chest turn milky as an experiment! only to offer her milk up to all their friends ie the rest of bts, bonus points if she starts leaking when they're at a normal friend gathering and it turns into everyone trying it.

Similarly to how yoongi always pops a knot after this, i think the m/c also lactates through every heat after this. and then one day in the distant future after one heat it just...doesn't stop. And the pack realize it's a sign that she actually /does/ want to be knocked up or at least her inner omega has decided she's ready to actually be bred.

is this self indulgent? yes. do i care? no.

even i have to admit that i'm a little bit tired of writing smutt at this point tbh...but luckily we have just one chapter after this with smutt! and it's mostly aftercare and a lovely little spanking scene <3

258 notes · View notes

lsunstreakerl · 2 days ago

Text

surprise! SH!Charles POV!! this is just little snapshots of him and max through the years before they get together- I was going to put it in chapter 20 but it didn't flow as well as I would have liked, and I like it too much to just completely cut. also I figured you guys would still want to read it lol :)

2.3k words never say I don't love u all

The Dutch boy is being yelled at again. The sky is grey, overcast and drizzling, and Charles has just had a supremely unsatisfying race.

The weather feels reflective of his mood. Part of him wants to stomp his foot that it isn't fair, the other part of him wants to cry. Jules has been teaching him to channel his emotions in other ways, and Charles is enrolled in piano lessons now. Maybe if he bruises his fingers on the keys hard enough it will feel worth it.

The Dutch boy had gotten first, but Charles can see him and his trainer by the pitwall. His trainer is dry under the awning, shouting so loud the tendons on his neck are straining. Charles thinks the other boy's name might start with an "M", and he's standing in the rain, shoulders pulled tight with his fingers digging into his helmet.

His trainer must be very stupid, to let his athlete stand in the rain like that. Then again, Charles also thinks it's crazy for anyone their age to have a trainer at all- most of them are coached by their parents still.

Charles is still thinking about it in the car, helmet resting on top of his thighs.

"Papa? Would I race better if you yelled?"

His father reaches over to set a hand on his knee, gripping it gently before shaking it.

"You are comparing yourself to the other boys again."

Charles frowns. He's not comparing, he's just... noticing some differences.

"But he wins."

His father sighs, and he looks pensive at the road ahead of them.

"So it is about Max."

Max, that's his name. Charles knew that, but he lets the letters roll around in his head anyways, all sharp sounds and blunt edges.

"Charlot, I would not do that to you. I could not- you are my son. I love you."

"I love you too!"

Charles isn't sure what "not yelling" and "being his son" have to do with each other in this context, because he's only ever seen Max with his trainer before. The idea of him with a dad is weird.

Papa likes to tuck Charles in and play board games after dinner with them. He likes to read stories with funny voices and dance in the kitchen with Maman, he likes to point out the different boats in the harbor and watch terrible sitcoms in the living room.

Charles isn't sure he's ever even seen Max smile.

------

"Putain! Stupid son of a-"

Charles chucks his helmet at the wall, and even the dent it leaves behind isn't enough to cool down his anger. Stupid race. Stupid kart, stupid rules, stupid Max-

He peels out of his racesuit, aggressively yanking on a pair of jeans from the floor and a sweatshirt out of his suitcase.

Stupid fucking Dutchie, thinking the whole track is his, and everyone else should just let him by, here comes the future Formula 1 racer-

Charles won't do that, and he's paid the price for it today with a fucking DNF. A DNF, and it isn't even his fault.

The good news is Charles knows whose fault it actually is. The better news is that Charles has a good idea of where to find him. He slips out of the hotel, and he needs to be quick, because Jules and Papa will want to talk to him, tell him kind reassuring words.

Charles doesn't want kindness, Charles wants to fight.

Sure enough, Max is tucked away near the car park, in an old valets booth that's no longer in use. He's in ratty shoes and an even rattier sweater, logo for a local football team long faded.

He also has a mostly empty bottle of gin between his fingers.

Max lifts his head when Charles gets closer, lips curling into a sneer. His eyes are bright and focused, despite how much he's had to drink, and Charles still wants to punch him in the face.

"What, are you here for driving tips?"

Stupid cocky fuck, Charles hates him. His blood is boiling, and he's still pissed off as he slams his hands down, gets right up into Max's face. His breath smells like gin, and there's a slight swelling around his left eye- he must have knocked it into his helmet somewhere.

"Fuck you, you stupid cunt- what is your problem? Why do you think the whole track belongs to you, seriously, what is your deal? Is it brain damage? Can we fix it? Can we fix you-"

Charles is abruptly cut off as Max grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him down, and suddenly there are chapped lips pressed to his, and Max tastes like nicotine and gin, like a vice, like something Charles shouldn't have. Something Charles knows better than to indulge in.

He's kissing him back anyways.

------

Charles is sixteen, and Max is going to move into Formula 1. Charles hates him. Charles hates him because he's arrogant and rude, and he hates him because he doesn't care about anyone else, and he hates him because he had completely and irrevocably changed Charles' life when they were fourteen, and he was too drunk to remember it.

It's a burden Charles bears alone, and it's a memory he keeps tight to his chest. Not even Pierre knows about it, because despite being fourteen Charles had understood that it would be much, much worse for Max if anyone found out.

Sometimes when he's feeling particularly alone he'll light a cigarette. Won't smoke it- just light it, balance it on the windowsill and look outside. He remembers the way Max had kissed him, chapped lips and liquor and desperation, the way Max kissed like it was another fight. Something else to win.

Charles hadn't even been aware he liked boys.

------

The bass at this party is so loud Charles can't even hear himself think. He's pretty sure the walls are vibrating, and also his bones, and his brain too. He's been trying to find the bathroom for ten minutes, and he's hopelessly lost in the dark. The hallway occasionally strobes with flashing lights, because whoever owns this random house they've ended up at throws parties a lot.

Charles had to sign an NDA before he stepped in.

His phone is in a locker near the entryway.

He passes a bathroom with two girls doing lines, and he spots white tablets scattered across the counter.

He's not going into that one- Charles is in the middle of the race season, and he's not a huge fan of pills in general.

He's ended up in a residential wing now, several closed doors and suspicious noises that are definitely sex.

He spots a cracked door and swings it open further, only to stop dead in his tracks, stunned.

It's Max.

It's Max and some other guy, and Max is miles of pale skin and long lanky limbs in the sheets, head tossed back into the pillows, and Charles needs to leave.

Neither of them even notice he's there when Charles takes a few quick steps back, feet muffled in the carpet as he tries to put the door exactly the way it was.

He feels like a voyeur, but the image is burned into his eyelids, the long line of Max's throat, the way his wrists were pinned above him, and Charles' brain short circuits for a quick second, because he's pretty sure now that he's thinking about it, the other man with the curls and tanned skin-

Okay. Max is hooking up with his teammate. That's a choice.

Charles' nose wrinkles as he thinks about it. There are several other drivers Max could've decided to do that with- drivers in their generation.

Nothing against Daniel, it's just. Max has options. Charles isn't even saying it should've been him, because Max could hook up with Pierre and that would be fine.

He's grinding his teeth.

Charles is a liar. That would not be fine, he would have to kill Pierre, or marry Esteban, or something equally as horrific to get back at him.

It's cool. Max can do whatever he wants as long as it's not beating Charles in a race. It doesn't matter that he was Charles' first kiss, or that they're sixteen days apart, or that Charles feels like he's constantly chasing him, always a few steps behind.

It's just-

Charles has been cradling Max's secrets close to his chest for years. The way he tastes, the dark set of his eyes when he's upset, the way Charles has known him since they were little.

Daniel can fuck him all he wants-

Charles knows he and Max have something deeper. He can be patient, he can prove himself, he can make himself into an opponent that Max can't ignore.

It won't even be a question then; of who deserves him. Charles knows he'll come out on top.

------

"Calamar, why are you not just opening the damn bottle."

Pierre is glaring at him, but Charles can't open it now, because they're hanging out at the rooftop pool. Max is on the other side of the pool with Daniel and Carlos and Hulk, and if he sees that Charles actually can open his own wine, he'll stop doing it for him.

Charles is in too deep to lose that now, even if it means floating in the shallow end, frustratingly sober, waiting for Max to notice and come open it.

Normally this plan works great.

Normally, Max is not distracted by three of the people Charles dislikes most at the moment.

Daniel, because walking in on them has sparked a rivalry Daniel doesn't understand and Charles isn't willing to admit.

Carlos, because Max likes an accent and hair with lots of volume, and Charles can acknowledge that his teammate is hot, even if he thinks he's annoying and slightly stuck up.

Hulk, because once Max starts drinking and getting excited about something he goes full Dutchie, rosy cheeks and gesticulating hands, and Hulk likes to enable that behavior.

Pierre follows Charles' eyes.

"You have got to be- fucks sake, give me that."

He yanks away the bottle, and it's open and back in Charles' hands within seconds.

Pierre is still glaring.

"And yet when I do it, you don't give me bedroom eyes."

Charles rolls his eyes as he takes a long drink.

"You don't want my bedroom eyes. And I don't want to hear it, you're still all hung up on-"

Pierre snatches the bottle back again, and when he raises it to his mouth he keeps drinking.

Charles takes the hint.

------

Apparently, Max has decided he likes Charles now, when they're in their twenties, instead of when they were younger, which is when normal people make friends. He does this by finding Charles after every single race and talking his ear off.

They've been calling it "maxsplaining" in the media and around the paddock, but Charles thinks that's stupid. Anyone who knows Max knows that it isn't a post-race thing specifically- Max just likes to talk.

If he thinks he has a listener, that is.

Charles listens.

Charles always listens.

------

"Red flag, Red flag, return to pits."

"What is it? What happened?"

"Come back to pit Charles."

------

Max looks small in the hospital bed. He's pale, swamped in thick blankets. It's technically not visiting hours anymore, but Charles is well liked enough in Silverstone to get snuck upstairs for a few minutes.

The nurse had said he was asleep, and that he was on pain meds.

Charles hasn't been in a hospital since his father died.

------

"You are staring."

Charles startles as Max breaks off his speech about domestic shorthairs, which is genuinely an achievement, because Max really likes to talk about cats.

"Sorry- I am listening."

Max narrows his eyes.

"Are you?"

Charles carefully sets his drink back down on the bar, leans in just a little bit closer. Max had cut the smoking before he went into Formula 1, but Charles can still smell the gin on his breath, the spot on his lip where he's been biting it during the driver meetings.

Charles wonders if he still kisses the same.

"To you? Always."

------

Max is on the roof, the night sky splattered with stars above them. Charles is careful with his grip on the bottle of red between his fingers as he makes his way over, feet crunching on the gravel before he lowers himself to the ground next to Max.

Max turns his head to look at him, mouth twisted in a frown.

"If you are here to gloat I do not want to hear it."

Charles hums. Their thighs are almost touching, and it would only take the tiniest shift, but-

Not yet.

He holds the bottle to Max.

"I can't get it."

Max's eyebrows raise, and Charles catches himself wondering if Max has been indulging him this entire time- if he's just as aware as Charles is that he doesn't need help with the bottle.

"You live in Monaco. You're French-adjacent, you drive for an Italian team- there is no way you cannot open a wine bottle."

Charles just shrugs.

"If you cannot either then you can just say that."

Max snorts, but he's opening the bottle anyways, passing it back over to Charles.

"Here."

"Merci."

Charles isn't sure how long they sit there passing the bottle between them until he tips it back and hears Max laugh softly next to him.

"It is of course empty, Charles."

Oh.

Charles frowns at the bottle before looking back up at Max.

"I have more in my room, if you would like...?"

Max looks back at him, and there's something complicated in his eyes, something Charles can't quite figure out.

He nods.

Charles pulls him to his feet, and they're both giggling as they clumsily sneak through the hallways, back into Charles' hotel room, Charles' bed, Charles' sheets.

Max is gone when he wakes up.

#search history verse #search history verse apov #formula one fanfiction

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randomizer971 · 3 days ago

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Wakfu The Great Wave - Chapter 12

Hic sunt dracones...

... and beware of spoilers, amphibians, Trypophobia and overuse of gif.

Me, watching some NPC blame Yugo & his people for the "sins of the Mother" for the nth time :

Grougalorasalar is so out of line in this chapter! Even that luscious hair and those defined abs don't blind me to his faults!

The audacity of Rasalar to imply those artefacts don't belong to Yugo, Adamaï and co. I'll admit that the Eliasphere and Eliacube are from the Mechasms (stolen, given, rented or whatever the current canon says) but the DOFUS ?! The Dofus Eliatropes are literally those kids' spawn points ! What are they supposed to do when their siblings are still incubating?

Here's your daily reminder that Yugo is living his best Explicit Married Life with his baby siblings stuck on his chest and at least two of them will remember all they could perceive from their Dofus once they're out... but who's judging?

Rasalar has no mercy. Everyone is catching strays today! Let Qilby rest in peace, he's back in his Dofus now. That reptile is so rude! Did he even know any other Dofus Eliatrope to talk about this family like that? I would have loved to see a verbal battle between Qilby and Rasalar. The sass would have been 📈📈

My, this dragon really said "I hate you and your entire bloodline" in 10k words or more. He had been preparing his diss track since Ogrest spat out his Dofus. You know Mewing Lizard was just waiting for Yugo to grow up just to trash him without being accused of bullying kids. Bro had so much resentment toward Yugo and the eliatropes, you'd think he'd taken lessons from Oropo, the poster boy for daddy issues. Is it Rasalar's Euphoria era or something? Was his name Lamar all along ?

In all fairness, it makes sense for a Twelvian to be so against the eliatropes being on the planet. These artefacts and some Eliatropes caused chaos all over the World of Twelve for centuries. Yugo's edgy alter ego had some involvement in Ogrest's Chaos and Nox's vain project to use the Eliacube. Then, there was the whole mess with the necromes and now, it's almost confirmed that Goddess Eliatrope had a hand in the death(?) of all the Twelvian gods. Not that they were much involved to begin with, apart from creating half-gods. How very Olympian of them!

I might get hate for this but, the Twelvian rulers were right to demand the Eliatropes and all their inventions leave the World of Twelve (Seasons 2 and 4).

The monarchs had more to lose keeping the Eliatropes on the planet. Ignoring the more peculiar concerns like where to put all those kids (back when there were thousands of them in S2), who would pay for all this and such, national security would have been the top argument to kick the Eliatropes out. The Twelvian Council had "proof" that the Eliatropes were a threat to the local population, and that was without knowing Oropo's origins and his involvement in Ogrest's Chaos. As rulers, they are accountable for the lives of thousands (current and future generations). Their duty would call for those rulers to deal with the problem asap. Because, if they didn't, the population would be sure to remind them of said duty (riots, vigilantism, civil unrest, coup...).

Apart from late King Oakheart, the monarchs had no deep involvement with the Eliatropes, no positive interaction not tainted by a bad first impression. All they knew was that their respective kingdoms were put in danger because some "wakfu-powered alien children" and their "long-lost, overbearing, self-righteous and possibly unstable" Goddess Mother had decided to crash-land there and open the door to the Necrome menace.

Since the Eliatropes cannot leave the planet without draining it of Wakfu (Season 2, Qilby), keeping the artefacts out of reach from both the Eliatropes themselves and the Twelvians would be the next best thing. It seems Rasalar might be justifying his actions with this thought.

HOWEVER, I disagree with the idea of giving away the Eliatrope collectables to Rasalar. So far, no one has proven worthy of properly using the Elia-artefacts or even keeping them safe.

On one hand, the Twelvians are easily manipulated or tempted into misusing any powerful artefact like they already did with the Primordial Dofus, the Eliacube or Shushu weapons (e.g. Nox, Ogrest, Toross on his planet, Pinpin and other Shushu Guardians). The Primordial Dragons and their Guardians would lose these items, like they often do with their own Dofus (Grougalorasalar & his siblings). Master Joris helped in hiding those treasures away (OAVs) but failed because of Oropo's brotherhood. Regardless, he is currently the ambassador of Bonta, whose queen dislikes Eliatropes. What would he do, should the Bonta queen and queen consort command him to hand over the items?

On the other hand, the Eliatropes, the rightful owners of most if not all these Eliatrope collectables, don't have the cleanest track record either. Qilby is out of commission for some time, but nothing says for sure he won't try to use the Eliacube again, even with his last-minute "redeeming arc". With some Eliatropes living among a population with mixed opinions about them, who is to say one of the Eliatropes won't turn into the next Qilby, Oropo or Bouillon in a few years or in a few generations?

Adamai seems to have good decision-making skills but most of it lies with his fear - fear of losing control, of making the wrong decision. He is so unsure that he'd rather not act because he also fears what Yugo would do with the powerful items (e.g. OAVs and Season 3).

Yugo is...Yugo. He has matured a lot since Season 1, but, he mostly thinks with his heart. From this, he would act on what he believes is right, while pushing aside the very real and often negative consequences of his choices and actions. He is a brave warrior and overall a kind person...but his very dichotomic view on right and wrong could make him a questionable ruler when political acumen is preferred over sheer might.

Right now, Yugo is still reeling from his confrontation with Oropo and the fight against the Necromes. With the tasks of caring for two kingdoms, maybe we'll see him make those hard decisions. However, as he is now, I cannot imagine Yugo not using the Eliasphere & Eliacube to try and "be a hero", if push comes to shove. The webtoon made that PG-13 plot armour disappear, opening the door to not only some Yumalia fun but potentially to explicit death and gore. This means that, in the webtoon, Yugo with his current mindset could try to "save everyone" only to fail miserably.

Yet, the webtoon has just begun. There is still time for some kind of evolution for his character development. Although, given the title "The Great Wave" and the state of the world in Waven, I'm not holding my breath.

As long as he doesn't end up alone on a planet destroyed by his own hubris, Yugo is good to go!

What I don't understand is…why now? It's been months (?) since the Battle against the necromes. Why does Rasalar want to talk, scheme and let out his grievances now that everything is relatively quiet? Is it because it took time to reunite all the Primordial Dofus? Was he spying on Yugo and the others to gauge their strength before attacking? Was he on his training arc to master the Primordial Dofus before confronting the Eliatrope twins?

Rasalar demanding those Eliatrope limited edition items be like

The audacity of this walking crocodile bag! Who does he think he is ? I know Spicy Lizard didn't just demand those sacred Elia-McGuffins! I know the genius who lost his Dofus, not once but twice, didn't just ask the Eliatrope artefacts and even added a tight deadline and a menacing debt collector (goth queen Julith 🖤).

That guy?! Who would give anything so dangerous to the very dragon who couldn't keep his Dofus safe from fusing with a baby (Maître Joris) and later could only watch as a crying toddler (Ogrest) gobbled the egg down? Be for real !

And now Rasalar is threatening people ?! This guy needs to disappear TODAY ! I'm saying this as a totally unbiased person who has no favourite at all. If this dried-up reptile hurts my beloved child Amalia or little Grougal and Chibi !

One too many people have been talking big just because they got some Kinder eggs stuck on their back !

How are they so loud, when they look like this?!

Tell me this is not what dark!Adamaï, Toross and Rasalar looked like? Embarrassing!

On a side note, Rasalar sacrificed all these villagers to revive The Butcher of Brakmar only to use her as his Uber driver?

Heretic!

Anyway, as usual, the art is fantastic and the pace is great. All those cameos from the animated seasons, making me all teary-eyed and stuff. My boy Nox ! 😭😭😭

I'm looking forward to this new wave of drama! Hopefully, more character development will come for the non-Iop cast. 😒

*End of my rambling*

#wakfu spoilers #wakfu the great wave #wakfu webtoon #wakfu la grande vague #wakfu yugo #wakfu #my review?

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rizzoreads88 · 21 hours ago

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✨Reasons why I’m still confident Elriel is endgame✨

1)All the hints and foreshadowing we have had for them since Acomaf.

There is a lot but I’m only going to list the main ones…*how they reacted to each other the first time they met and they both were wearing cobalt blue*azriel being the one to figure out she was a seer and then his understanding started to help Elain get better * the entire Hybern rescue scene and Azriel being full of rage ready to die to get to her*Azriel lending her truth teller when he never let anyone else touch it.*Azriel and Elain spending time alone together in the garden multiple times*Azriel following the sound of her laughter*Elain calling Azriels hands beautiful *Azriels shadows lighting up at her smile*Azriels shadows wanting to attack Nesta for insulting Elains personality* The way Azriel reacts whenever Elains Hybern kidnapping is brought up, *His entire Bonus chapter scene with Elain & Rhysand, *Azriel being upset about and still focused on Elain even after his bonus chapter scene w Gwyn takes place. *azriel having a physical reaction to Eluciens mate bond and seeing elain around Lucien.

2)Lucien & Vassa

Vassien has been my longest Acotar ship. I have been pretty sure about them since Acowar. The moment SJM retconned Lucien’s Dad to a spell cleaver, then we find out Vassa has a unbreakable curse and SJM has Lucien be the one to find her (a bird of flame and a lord of fire I wonder if they’d found each other yet) I truly felt Elucien was not going to happen. There was literally no other reason for her to retcon his dad. Then she’s built them up ever since as well. ( Feyre watching them off alone suprised how Lucien is acting around Vassa, Lucien blushing talking about Vassa, Lucien getting a spark in his eye or Vassa, Lucien having a pained physical reaction when Vassa talks about being enslaved to Koschei, Lucien seemingly setting a target on Koschei over Vassa, Mor pointing out it’s not usually for mates to be away from each other and ok, the inner circle saying Lucien is biased about Vassa now and they can’t trust his reports on her, SJM pointing out Lucien and Vassa are the true exiles jurian is not, Cassian & Nesta also questioning/wondering about Lucien’s reactions to Vassa or about her…) SJM has been slowly building Elriel alongside Vassien in the background. SJM has also talked about how she wanted to do a vasalisa the beautiful and a swan lake retelling and Lucien/Vassa& Koschei fit that perfectly. Now couple this will all the information we get on mates being able to reject a mate bond, mates not always being love matches, people questioning eluciens bond ect…

3)Gwyns Growth in Acosf

Another reason why I’m confident in elriel is because we got so much of Gwyns story in Acosf. People take us learning so much about Gwyn as a sign she’s next but I think it’s actually the opposite.In 1 book we met her, saw her grow, she got her besties, she revealed her deep trauma and how it affects her and we see her start to really overcome that. If Gwyn was getting her own POV SJM would have saved most of that for her book. If you look at Feyre,Nesta,Manon,Lidia ect w we didn’t learn about their true traumas or see them really start to work on it until we were in their own pov. Yes we got hints and a general idea but nothing in depth like we have for Gwyn.(like Elain we have gotten a lot of hints of her trauma but not the true depth of it or her true feelings over it yet in depth… )But if you look at characters like Fenrys, Asterin their storyline happened like Gwyns. They were amazing supporting characters and we learned about their trauma and saw their growth through Aelin/manons pov like we did for Gwyn through Nesta

4)HOFAS

We got absolutely nothing for Gwyn in Hofas. Which really surprised me because Gwyn has been studying the possibility of different worlds/realms with Merrill this would have been the PERFECT time to bring her in in a small way and give us some sort of hint and we got nothing. Even when Bryce was talking about her best friend to Nesta we still got nothing about Gwyn. A huge promising sign to me that Elriel is still endgame …Now remember how Sarah said she left breadcrumbs in azriels bonus chapter? Azriel questioned the cauldron over Eluciens mate bond in acosf and then in hofas the crossover he is heavily involved in we find out the cauldron was infact corrupted by the Daglan. SJM followed throw on those breadcrumbs to the next book…

5)Elriel in Azriels BC

If Elriel weren’t endgame why even give us their scene in his bonus chapter? She could have had Elains scene be with Lucien and azriels just be with gwyn but she didn’t…. Until then nothing solid had happened on page for elriel.. yes there has been moments and alot of foreshadowing but we hadn’t had thier feelings on page yet and in the bonus chapter she gives us canon confirmation they are into each other… then brings up the obstacle that they will have to overcome (Eluciens mate bond) She has rhysand set it up even further and then leaves things unresolved between them…. Why do annnnyyyyy of that if they weren’t endgame? It’s bc she set their story up the same way she did nessian in acofas… a special moment and then a “rejection” and they were left unsettled…. The same way she did for feyre and rhysand in acotar… they have a special moment as they are saying goodbye and feyre is staying w tamlin but then Rhys realizes she’s his mate and leaves, leaving her alone for months…. Again leaving them unresolved……….. people say “she did that to end them” If SJM was “ending” then she wouldn’t have left them unresolved. SJM could have just simply move elain on to Lucien and had her scene w him in the BC and kept Azriels with Gwyn and then start to move azriel on ti Gwyn after the Bonus chapter scene. But she didn’t. Because days later Azriel is still into Elain.

If you stuck with me this long phew thank you! Now while I am confident Elriel/Vassien are happening I do not think it is 100% set in stone yet. I don’t take anything as confirmation unless SJM confirms it or it’s in the books. So while I am confident I also do not count my chicken before the hatch. Could SJM change her mind and go in a different direction? Sure but that could be said about any couple in her series now too. Based on canon text and how she writes endgame pairings I truly think it will be Elriel/Vassien.

#acotar #sarah j maas #elriel #pro elriel #elain archeron #elain x azriel #lucien vanserra #vassa acotar #vassien #anti e/ucien #azriel shadowsinger

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truths33k3r4 · 2 days ago

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(CONTENT WARNING!- Nightmares, medical-based trauma and situations! Panic!)

CHAPTER 10- Never Again

“Raphael.” Leo tightly warned, raising his hands onto the sides of his brother’s face. His normally calm tone plummeted into the negative degrees, replacing the warmth of brotherly concern with the chill of interrogation. Unfortunately, this was the only strategy that worked on his stubborn little brother. Kind, gentle words only added another brick to his growing wall of pride, coming off to the fiery sibling as demeaning and condescending instead of loving. The eldest deeply regretted how long it took him to realize this fact about his brother.

It would have saved them both a lot of heartache growing up.

Instead of getting lost in the past, he shoved his way back into the present, where his brother was shaking and crying, and not telling him why.

“RAPH. I am warning you- If you don’t tell me what’s going on in the next three seconds, I’m going to drag your shell to dad.”

Leo allowed a faint snarl to escape through his teeth, hoping that his go-to threat would work like always. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he would be physically able to haul Raphael to his father’s room- Despite how much the eldest had trained, Raph had always been faster and stronger.

That didn’t aggravate the eldest in the slightest.

Not… at… all.

“I said I’m f-” Raph began, attempting to twist his head out of Leo’s grip, but the eldest’ hands remained planted on his brother’s face, snapping Raph’s gaze back to his icy irises.

“You. Are. Crying.” Leo pressed in harsh whispers as he tightened his grip to emphasize how seriously worried he was becoming with each second. “You don’t do that. That’s not a thing that you do, and worse- you’re doing it in front of me… So…”

The eldest’s vice-like grip softened to a small caress, wiping away another escaping tear off his brother’s face. Leo’s harsh glare melted with the true warmth he felt for his hurting brother.

“... I know something is seriously wrong.” He whispered with a gentleness his brothers all knew well. His breath shuddered as his hands slid from Raph’s face down to his shoulders. “You… were held hostage at some- s-some mad scientist’s lab for over two weeks, Raph… I have no… idea… what they did to you…”

Leo watched as Raph’s eyes kept overflowing with silent tears, reminding the eldest of a wordless history filled with pain and devastating fear that had been plaguing his brother for weeks.

Leo couldn’t hold back the memories of finding his missing brothers at that horrible lab, rushing through the doors of the facility, maneuvering his way through the halls to the sound of screaming.

His brother. Screaming.

. . .

Don’s freckled face was nearly unrecognizable without his signature glasses and violet-hued mask. Those monsters had taken away all their gear- leaving them more or less naked and unidentifiable; Inhumane. Nothing but another creature for those psychos to study and pull apart… Not only had those heartless heathens stripped him down, but they had also strapped him down to the confines of a reclining chair via leather straps that painfully dug into his skin.

Don’s expression began as listless while he focused on breathing through the pain of whatever vile concoction was being injected into his veins through an IV. But then a sudden realization sparkled behind his heterochromatic irises, and Leo nearly shattered into a million pieces when his genius brother locked eyes with him for the first time in weeks.

“R-Raph?...” The freckled brother shakily called, as he leaned forward, squinting his eyes.

The frail sound of his sibling’s plea for familiarity and safety sent an arrow of guilt piercing into Leo’s heart. Before another second could be wasted, Leo ran to Don’s side. With a quick shuffle into his belt, the eldest pulled out a pair of glasses, sliding it oh so gently onto his freckled brother’s face. Once Don’s breathing steadied, he looked up and lost his breath all over again.

“Leo…” He gasped in between shuddered breaths. “LEO!!!”

With the cry of the eldest’s name, Leo began to hurriedly disconnect all the equipment from his brother, who was now softly sobbing and shaking his head as if this was all just a dream.

“T-This… This can’t be real…”

Leo couldn’t even reply as he carefully began pulling out the IV from Don’s bruised arm with all the gentleness he could afford. Tears of relief and shame and love and sadness all poured from his face as he set right to work on un-doing all that had been done to his beloved sibling. He rapidly wiped away his tears as he reached behind to pull out one of his twin katanas. With a number of practiced swipes with his blade, all the straps that once held down Don fell to the floor.

Now freed from his confines, Don arched himself forward, trying to push himself off the heightened medical chair. Slowly, and with Leo’s help, he finally had both feet on the floor, but not for long. As if a large gust of wind shot through the room, Don’s body began plummeting to the floor in an exhausted heap. As soon as Leo sensed his brother’s weakness, he swiftly sheathed his katana and reached out. Within a matter of seconds, he was on his knees with Don pressed tightly into his arms.

“I’m here! I’m here- I’m so sorry. I love you- I love you I love you-” He cried out, finally being able to say what had been on his heart for the last eighteen days.

“Leo…how…” Don quietly sobbed into Leo’s neck, smothered yet crystal clear, “How did y-you? H-how are you here? Are y-you okay? Did you… Did you find R-Raph?”

Leo winced in sympathy as he listened to the gravelly scratches carving their way painfully into Don’s throat with each word he spoke.

“Shhhh. Shhhhh.” Leo whispered into his brother’s ear, “You need to… to rest.” A whimper weaseled its way out of Leo’s throat, leaving his whole body shaking with emotion and adrenaline. He was supposed to be the foundation of his team; the stronghold that would protect his brothers no matter the costs- the firm walls that would keep his family safe from the cruel, outside world.

And yet here he was, dissolving into shifting sand in his beloved brother’s skinny arms. His facets of honor and maturity crumbled into broken shards of childishness as he let out a painful sob, finally unleashing a grain of the agony he had carried on his shoulders during the weeks of his brothers’ capture. The doubts and fears that plagued his sleepless mind were finally put to reassured rest.

Don was okay.

The stale air of the lab made Leo’s skin tingle with discomfort as he latched onto his little brother with all his might, vowing right then and there that he would never allow this to happen again. With a sense of determination he had not felt in some time, he pressed further into his brother, spreading warmth where only shadow and pain had touched. Each bruise and bandage littering his little brother’s skin was a testament of the eldest’ failure to protect those he loved.

Never again.

The moment was abruptly sliced in half as a blaring alarm began to scream.

Leo blinked. And there he was again, kneeling at Raph’s side, with his hands on his shaking brother’s shoulders.

“It… It was a nightmare.” Raph simply shrugged, though his voice wobbled and shuddered like a glass cup during an earthquake.

After wiping away the last hints of tears, Leo sighed with the tiniest glint of a smile.

Still playing the tough guy… But at least he’s speaking again.

Leo released one of his hands off of Raph’s shoulder and planted it onto his knee, steadying his own swaying form from the sleep he was currently missing.

“Do you want to talk abou-”

“-No.”

Before his sore legs gave out underneath him, Leo flopped down onto his butt with a somewhat content sigh, using his arms to hold him upright.

“Should've guessed…” He whispered as he slouched back. The smile on his face was still present, alighting the cold, dark room with a small ember of warmth. “Well… I’m… here when you’re ready to talk.”

Raph turned his face to look down at his brother, silently contemplating Leo’s offer.

The eldest would be lying if he said it didn’t hurt how cautious Raph was being around him. He’d noticed it for years, slowly watching as hour-long conversations after practice would turn into quick, hollow “hey”s before his fiery sibling briskly left the room. Late nights of reading comics and trying to catch their favorite movies on tv slowly lessened as Raph wanted to be by himself more.

In all honesty, despite his own pride, Leo couldn’t blame him. He and the second oldest would get into horrible fights growing up. Every small conversation turned into a horrible argument. Any compliment had poison at its tip, sharp and designed to sting. And no sooner had those hurtful words escaped their lips, their fists began flying.

Leo once noticed, mid argument with Raph, that Don had carefully guided himself and Mikey out of the room. One more glance revealed tears falling out of his baby brother’s eyes, and a hardened, disappointed glare across Don’s face.

His and Raph’s actions had begun to affect his brothers. That’s when it became clear that something needed to be done.

So he and Raph just- stopped talking. Leo did his very best to back off unless necessary, and slowly over time their home became quiet again.

But silence is a two-edged sword. What can be felt as peaceful can also be sensed as cold and apathetic; The natural quiet of a forest’s winter trails compared to the restrained hostility boiling under a volcano’s depths.

A cover-up. A simple bandaid rather than a full surgery.

Not enough.

Through the years, Splinter had begun training Raphael in better handling his temper. Every day before practice, Leo would see Raph sluggishly dragging his feet into Sensei’s room, and through the door, he, Don and Mikey would listen in on some of the fiery brother’s lessons from their father. Splinter would guide Raph through his Bible, reviewing verses of pride, arrogance, and the need for love to be in the world. He then went over how important it was as christians to show Christ’s love to others. And especially, the ultimate need for that love to be in their home.

During that time, Raph wasn’t the only one Sensei honed in on. Seeing how Leo was half of the problem in the arguments bringing unwanted chaos into their home, he too had to be taught many lessons. The Bible verses his dad focused on weren’t very different from the ones he overheard Raph learning. Huh. Interesting. One specific lesson planted deep roots into Leo’s heart, leaving an impact that would be with him for years to come:

“Your love for your brother needs to outweigh your longing to win.”

And then… one day…

Raph appeared climbing down from the forbidden manhole cover with a shattered wrist and a bleeding crack chipped into his plastron. No matter how he was asked, persuaded, comforted, or threatened, Raph never told anyone how it had happened.

After that day everything began to change.

And then about a year ago, he and Raph started talking again.

Even now, as Leo looked into the eyes of Raphael as he finally calmed down from his panic attack, he could see the tenderness and healing within his troubled brother’s soul. Compared to the others in his family, Raph held the record for how many physical scars he had. For a long time, the brothers held him with the highest honor, as if he were a victorious war hero returning from battle… But Leo knew better now. The deep slash across his little brother’s eye was dealt by his blade. An accident, yes, but a permanent reminder of his past recklessness as a child; A lasting testament of who he could never be again.

As for Raph’s second scar- the small lightning bolt cracked into his upper plastron…

… Leo still doesn’t know where its origins stemmed from. And the fact that Raph had held that secret within, warns the eldest of unseen battles that were being fought behind thick, impenetrable walls. Battles he may have helped to fight, had he thrown down his own barriers.

Those times were long gone, and he would not squander the second chance God gave him.

Before he could stop himself, he opened his mouth again.

“Okay… New subject-” He said as he sat up and leaned his elbows onto his crossed legs. “...Maybe this will help get your mind off of your nightmare. If you could think of anything to geek out about to me- right now- what would it be?” He asked with an inviting grin to his more-than-cautious brother.

Raph’s confusion only showed through his expression for a few seconds before his eyes were looking to the side, pondering over Leo’s question. “Uh…” He thought, tapping at the blankets draped over his legs. “... I guess… How kids’ tv shows go too easy on ‘em.”

Huh. Oooooookay.

“Alright! Tell me about it.” Leo gestured vaguely with his hands at Raph, waving them in swooping motions to propel his anxious brother to keep going.

Raph’s nervous expression returned, but he persisted through his anxiety, sitting up as well, and playing with the blanket fibers between his fingers.

“Well… you know… Nothin’ real happens in them. Like- Okay listen to this-” Raph said, as a miniscule spark ignited behind his irises and spread to his expression and posture, silently revealing that Leo’s plan was working.

Leo nodded with a small, but growing smile.

“Tell me, oh Team Medic, what would happen to a person if they fell off a three story building?”

Leo sat back with a sigh as his brain began pulling out pristine files from its shelves.

“Um… my personal guess would be they’d have at least a broken ankle, if not a seriously sprained knee…” He listed, as he began counting with his fingers for each injury that came to mind. “...Possibly a concussion depending on how they handled their landing- and most likely a good amount of scrapes and bruises to the knees and arms.”

Raph nodded emphatically to Leo’s medical diagnosis, gesturing stiffly with both arms as if to say THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYIN.

“RIGHT. So- ya know- there’s a thing called uh, what was it again- CONSEQUENCES.” Raph shout-whispered, still keeping his voice small, but making sure his words made up for the lack of volume. “So, you tell me, how… does FRIENDSHIP save you from breakin’ your neck after falling off a flippin’ building??!!” He quietly roared. Somehow.

Leo had to stifle a chuckle as he watched his brother become as animated as the cartoon shows he was complaining about. It was hilarious to see such fire in his brother’s eyes that didn’t spark from anything occurring in the real world.

“That… doesn’t make any sense, dude.” Leo attempted to speak, but was unceremoniously interrupted by a snort escaping his nose. “Gah-geez!” He hurriedly whispered to himself as he smacked a hand over his mouth to somehow smother his growing laughter at the situation.

Raph’s passionate expression softened at the sight of Leo fighting for his life to keep the serenity of their bedroom so his little brothers can sleep. Then his kind smile crackled and sparked into a mischievous grin.

After what felt like an eternity, Leo had finally gotten his laughter under control, plastering a stoic expression over the small gusts of laughter still tucked away in his throat. But all that hard work was blown to oblivion as Raph began to cross his eyes and flare his nostrils. Before the eldest could stop himself, another snort shattered the peaceful silence of the room.

My one weakness- THAT LIL BRAT-

In utter defiance and revenge, Leo thrust himself forward onto his knees and slapped Raph’s arm in playful, empty warning. With a hushed hiss he chittered,

“YOU STOP THAT THIS *SNNRT* THIS INSTANT, YOUNG MAN-”

“Ya mean turtle?~” Raph winced as he rubbed at his slightly stinging arm.

Then the brothers went silent as they took a single second to think. At that moment, they pointed to the other and whispered simultaneously, “ Mutant.” And then they were both fighting for their lives to not wake their brothers.

Despite their best efforts of shushing each other, smacking their hands over the other’s face, and trying to regain stoic countenances which always backfired, they were quickly interrupted by a meek, worried voice.

“Don?”

Raph and Leo’s laughter was snuffed out instantaneously as their immediate instinct to protect their brothers pushed past any humor with full force.

“Mikey? What’s wrong?” Leo asked with a slightly raised voice since Mikey was in the bunk above Raph’s bed. “Why are you calling to-”

Leo’s sentence fell away into the shadows surrounding the bedroom as he gazed at Don in his bunk bed, cradling his head between his clenched hands. Shaking.

“Don?...” Leo asked, again raising his voice since Don’s bed was further away. At his call, the freckled brother turned his head slightly, the glistening of tears shining as they fell in threads down his face.

“DON!” Leo outwardly cried, no longer attempting to remain quiet as the newly revealed emergency played out right in front of him. He pushed off his knees and used Raph’s mattress to propel himself off the floor into a quick sprint across the room. By only running on instinct to protect his brother, he didn’t have to think as he effortlessly leapt over the spare mattress and climbed up the ladder to Don’s bunk, landing in what Mikey would call a “spiderman pose”.

“Is he okay?” Raph called from the ground, as Mikey briskly flipped off the side of his bunk, landing perfectly, and rushing to Raph’s side.

Leo suppressed a deep groan.

Mental sticky note- REMIND MIKEY to not risk damaging his ALREADY HEALING ANKLE.

With a disgruntled sigh, Leo turned his attention back to Don. In the moment he had, he ploughed through the medical checklists he could think of, assessing what was wrong with his genius little brother. However, it was clear without any medical expertise that Don was having a panic attack.

Him too?... What is going on?

Suppressing his growing questions, the eldest reached out his hand and placed it on Don’s trembling knee. Over the years, Leo found that physical contact worked as a solid anchor for his frightened brother; a grounding force that would pull his mind away from the fantasies that plagued his logic. Don had explained to him that when someone was having a panic attack, they were losing themselves to the lies in their mind. In order to remedy this and pull them out of it, they needed a firm foundation of truth to stand on.

“I’m alive.”

“I’m not dying.”

“I can feel my heartbeat.”

“I can hear my breathing.”

“God is with me.”

“I’m safe.”

Leo stretched forward to place more pressure on Don’s knee.

“You’re alive, Don. You’re not dying.” He spoke firmly.

“Mmmhmm…” Don grunted as he shakily lowered his hands from the sides of his head, and slid them down to the nape of his neck, pulling down with constant pressure.

“You’re home. You’re not alone. I’m right here.” Leo pressed further both verbally and physically.

“Y-Yeah…” Don breathlessly agreed, as he tried to take a deep, calming breath.

“Whatever you saw wasn’t real. It was just a dream, okay?”

Don’s expression twisted at those words, and he stuttered, “That’s.. n-not true, L-Leo… It… wasn’t as m-much a nightmare, as it was a m-memory…”

Leo’s own expression fell at Don’s fragmented words sputtering and glitching like a tv set trying to hone in on the right signal. He hated seeing his intellectual brother so shaken like this. Don had never been one that needed to fight his own body just so he could speak. Normally his rants and logistics would smoothly escape his lips, coming out clear and precise in neat rows filled with elongated vocabulary.

Only one thing would have stolen that from him; something so scary and traumatic that it would resonate and affect him now.

“You dreamed about the lab, didn’t you?” Leo whispered at a volume barely audible as he slid closer to Don’s now relaxing form. He lifted his hand from Don’s knee onto his shoulder, but still kept a grounding pressure.

Don, once again at a loss for words, simply nodded his head defeatedly.

Not needing any more confirmation of Don’s condition, Leo pulled himself closer and held out his arms. Don had to know the option was there if he needed it.

At first, the freckled brother simply stared at Leo’s outstretched arms, as his pupils zipped back and forth in consideration. Then after he properly reviewed his options, he gently shook his head. “I think I’m okay now.” He sighed, gripping onto the soft, fur blanket over his legs. “I’m… okay.”

Leo nodded in understanding before he was forcibly pushed to the wall of the nook as Mikey and Raph joined him on Don’s bed.

“Don, ya good?” Raph asked in genuine concern for his twin, searching his brother’s expression and body for any wounds.

Don nodded with an exhausted but real smile.

“Are you sure?? You were crying, bro. Last I checked, computers can’t cry.” Mikey playfully nudged Don’s arm, but the smile on the youngest’s face read of no ill will. “You want to talk about it?”

Don’s smile fell a little as he made eye contact with Raph, and both twins sighed in mental understanding.

“I think he’s alright now.” Raph spoke up quietly, as he started pushing Mikey onto the ladder. “Let’s give him some space, Mikey.”

Despite the youngest fighting and squawking in obvious displeasure, Raph remained persistent and continued down, pulling his little brother with him. Leo couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“...T-Thanks, Leo.” Don whispered, as he stretched out and placed his hand onto Leo’s arm. “I really… appreciated this.”

Leo’s smile brightened as he tapped his hand onto Don’s. The cool texture of his brother’s smooth skin brought its own wave of comfort to him, reminding the eldest of a truth he had unknowingly taken for granted for years:

They’re home.

Before any more tears decided to fall, Leo wished his brother good night and slid down the ladder, making his way back to his mattress, saying one final, silent prayer.

Thank You, Lord, that my brothers… are home. Thank You that they’re here and safe. Please continue to guide them as they recover from their time in the labs. Please guide me with what to say to them. And…

Thank You for giving me a second chance.

Aaaand that's it for this chapter!

Man alive, it feels so good to be back. This chapter took a while to figure out because of the scenes with Leo and Raph- There were many options that I had to choose through over how Raph would react to Leo trying to calm him down from his panic attack- but this version won out in the end. :) To quote a very important Book, "Laughter doeth good like medicine". So I knew how I wanted this scene to go. :) As has been a running tradition in this book, there is a lot of hidden storytelling in this chapter~ Especially regarding Leo and Raph.

Feel free to reblog and share!

BIG THANKS TO @poetique823 FOR YOUR HELP!!! <3

@indieyuugure @writer-in-wonder @allyheart707 @oddartistl3 @risebabyx2 @joyjoygorl @carrots-bear @imagionationstation @howtotrainyourdragonprince @jasminegazer @brightonstudios @ninjaturtlefan-dee @rottmntlover14

If you want to be tagged in the next chapter, comment down below!

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

#the strength in weakness #my version of tmnt!!#TW Nightmares #TW Medical-based trauma #TW Captivity #TW Trauma #TW Panic Attack #These brothers love each other #Leo and Raph's dynamic really got the spotlight in this one #SIW Leo #SIW Raph #SIW Don #SIW Mikey #more flashbacks~

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quartz-kilsviken · 1 day ago

Text

Written in the Runes

Chapter 4

➸ Synopsis: Ekko, your mischievous yet endearing local troublemaker, trails a wealthy academy student from the topside. When you end up with the student’s satchel, you find a notebook filled with intriguing magical research. Unable to resist, you embark on a quest to uncover the secrets of this mysterious scholar.

➸Pairing: Jayvikxreader

➸Chapter word count: 2,009

➸Tags: Slow Burn, yearning, eventual smut, not

canon compliant

➸Notes: One more short chapter for today, because I had the day off and needed to continue getting my thoughts out. ∧( ‘Θ’ )∧ Oh, Heimerdinger, how I love your whimsy.

➸ Previous Chapter: Pt.3

The sunrise tells you it’s been hours since the three of you were told to stay in Heimerdinger’s lab. The noise of students starting their day in the courtyard is a small comfort, familiar in its chaos. Has Benzo noticed you’re missing yet? The thought tightens your chest. You used to slip away all the time, always returning just in time for one of his lectures. Back then, you thought his anger was just routine, but now you understand it was more than that. After your mother’s death, you didn’t believe anyone could be bothered by your absence. In the Undercity, that kind of concern is rare, and it took a long time to see how much it hurt him when you disappeared. The idea of causing him more trouble, of making Ekko worry too, weighs on you.

You can’t leave, though. The councilors made sure of that.

A loud snore breaks your thoughts. You glance over at Jayce, slumped against the wall, his face relaxed in deep sleep. Despite being in an unfamiliar place with two strangers, he’s completely at ease, his breathing steady and untroubled.

Viktor, who had paused his writing, watches Jayce with a faint smile. But when his eyes meet yours, something shifts. “He’s had an—” Viktor hesitates, then finishes, “…eventful few days.” His words are light, but there’s a quiet weight to them, a flicker of sadness that fades before you can fully place it.

You hum in response, imagining what happened between his visit to Benzo’s and your arrival the next night. You had seen the pieces of his devastation—the frustration in his research being taken from him. It’s a loss you understand too well. Your own connection to magic was ripped away, taken from you in ways that still sting, an emptiness that lingers. But you hope that, like you, the events of last night will help fill that void for both of you.

The click of the door snaps you from your thoughts as Counselor Medarda steps into the room. You quickly move to wake Jayce, his face still soft with sleep. She watches with quiet amusement as he jolts awake, clearly embarrassed, and straightens to attention clasping his hands behind his back. Viktor stays seated, unshaken, waiting for her to speak.

Her presence fills the room, calm and commanding despite the small group. “The three of you will present before the council today, in one hour.”

Her words hang in the air, and a tight knot forms in your stomach. Viktor’s voice breaks the silence, sharp with concern. “That’s not nearly enough time. What do you expect us to present, Counselor?”

Medarda’s gaze is unflinching as she smooths out the tension. “It will be an informal presentation—no need for preparation. Simply share your recent developments, and we’ll discuss further research. It will also be an opportunity for you,” she fixes her eyes on Jayce, “Mr. Talis, to have the incident involving your explosion retracted.”

Jayce exhales deeply, visibly relaxing, but you exchange a worried glance with Viktor. Neither of you feels ready to stand before the council—especially under these rushed conditions. Medarda adds, almost as an afterthought, “I’ll handle most of it. You’re expected outside the council chamber by 10 AM.”

You exhale a quiet sigh of relief as the door begins to close behind her, but the moment is shattered when Counselor Heimerdinger enters in a whirlwind. Before anyone can speak, he hurries straight up to you with a gleam in his eye. “Come with me, dear,” he says, his voice light and almost musical. “No time to dawdle!”

You hesitate, frozen in place. He stops, turns back, and gives you a knowing look as if he can read your discomfort. “You’re not in trouble, my dear, not in the slightest,” he adds, as though that should make everything better. But you wait for an explanation, and of course, there isn’t one. He simply smiles, waits, and then motions for you to follow.

Reluctantly, you move. To your surprise, Viktor and Jayce both follow. Heimerdinger notices and his eyes twinkle mischievously. “Ah, no need for a crowd!” he says, waving his tiny hands dismissively. “Only her. Don’t worry, boys. She’ll be back in no time!”

Viktor quickly moves to hand one of Jayce’s notebooks to him. “Professor—” he starts, his voice tight with concern.

With a dramatic flourish, Heimerdinger grabs the notebook and nods at Viktor before hustling down the hall. You follow, a little dazed. Students pass by, their eyes lingering, but Heimerdinger moves with such speed you barely register their gaze.

He leads you into a smaller office—thankfully empty—and you immediately notice how much more intimate this space feels compared to the Lab. He takes a seat behind the desk, dropping the open notebook in front of him with a dramatic flair. That’s when you realize, with a sinking feeling, it’s the same notebook you’d written in.

Heimerdinger flips through the pages, humming absently, unaware of the dread rising in your chest. “Where, pray tell, did you learn to transcribe Runes?” he asks, his tone light and casual, as if discussing the weather.

You swallow hard, trying to steady your nerves. You give the answer you’ve been giving everyone else: “I just have an interest in it.”

Heimerdinger pauses, peering over the top of the notebook with a raised brow. “Ah, interest—yes, of course,” he muses, clearly unconvinced. “But I do wonder—what else do you have an interest in? Sciences? Mathematics? History? Language?” He leaps from his chair with a sudden burst of energy, gesturing widely, as though he's narrating some grand spectacle. “Tell me, what do you excel in, hmm?”

The questions whirl around you, and you struggle to make sense of them. “I… I suppose I’m average?” you offer, unsure.

Heimerdinger’s eyes widen with exaggerated interest. “Average!” he exclaims, his hands flinging into the air. “Now that’s a word that means a thousand things, doesn’t it? What does it mean for you?”

You hesitate, trying to gather your thoughts. “I have a basic understanding, I wouldn’t say I ‘excel’ at any” you say, the words coming out slower. “But… History and Language have always been my strengths.”

Heimerdinger nods, clearly delighted by your answer before disappearing into a small closet. “Aha! History and Language! Excellent! But tell me, my dear, do you prefer trousers or a skirt?” His voice rings out from the closet, muffled by the door.

Your head snaps up, confused. What? Before you can process, Heimerdinger reappears from the closet with an enormous grin on his face. “Well, come now! What’s it going to be?”

“Uh—skirt?” you stammer, unsure where this is going.

Heimerdinger nods in delight, his voice suddenly taking on a dramatic tone. “Perfect! Perfect!” He strides over to the desk and places a stack of clothes in front of you, then skips over to a safe, unlocking it with exaggerated care before pulling out a gleaming key. “Now, you must be ready. The new semester begins soon. And you, my dear, will begin your studies in just a few weeks. The council will want you to start working on Hextech right away, no doubt. So!” He claps his hands together, startling you. “You’ll have early access to housing.”

“Housing?” you repeat, your voice strained with confusion.

He simply waves off your concern. “Oh, don’t worry! The room number is on the key. I’m sure the boys will show you the way once the council meeting completes.”

The confusion only deepens. “No, sir, I haven’t applied to the academy,” you say, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

He stops, blinking up at you. “Ah, well, last night was quite a remarkable application, wasn’t it?” His eyes gleam with mischievous delight.

Your heart sinks, and the ground beneath you feels like it’s giving way. You never wanted any of this. The academy? You’ve always known it would be safer with Benzo in the shop, keeping things predictable. But now—now everything is changing, and you feel like the universe is forcing it upon you. No longer a soft whisper leading you, but rather a hard shove. “I can’t afford tuition,” you stammer. “Even if I keep working while researching Hextech…”

Heimerdinger stops, considering you for a moment. Then, with a soft sigh, he closes the notebook and pushes it toward you gently. “No need to worry about that,” he says, his voice far kinder now. “Counselor Medarda has offered to sponsor your tuition. It’s clear you have a brilliant mind, one that deserves to be nurtured.”

Your chest tightens. You can’t believe what he’s saying. The world feels like it’s tilting, and the weight of everything presses on your shoulders.

Heimerdinger’s voice cuts through the spiraling thoughts, calm and reassuring. “The choice is yours, but I urge you to think about what you could become.”

The words hang in the air like an invitation, and despite the panic rising within you, you find yourself nodding. “Yeah,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “Yeah, sure. I’ll do it.”

Heimerdinger’s grin is back, wide and beaming. “Brilliant!” he says, practically bouncing with excitement. He scoops up the clothes, key, and notebook, shoving them into your hands with practiced flair before hurrying out the door.

You walk back toward the lab, the weight of your decision heavy on your chest. Heimerdinger suddenly stops in front of you, causing you to nearly run into him. He gestures toward a door. “Restroom’s here,” he says breezily “I suggest you change before meeting the council.”

Before you can respond, he twirls around you with a flurry of motion. “Not that your outfit isn’t lovely, mind you, but the uniform might be a tad more fitting for the occasion!”

With that, he dashes off, leaving you standing in stunned silence as students pass by, their gazes lingering.

Back in the lab, Jayce paces nervously. “Maybe we should check on her—”

Viktor leans back, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Heimerdinger won’t do anything rash, Jayce. You shouldn’t worry.”

Jayce stops mid-step, his brows furrowing. “You worked for him, so you’re biased. I almost got banished by him.”

Viktor’s lips twitch, his own worry creeping into his expression.

Jayce continues, “We’re the ones who convinced her to come here anyways, so doesn’t that mean we’re like— responsible for her?”

Viktor grimaces. “Eh— maybe we should find them, just to be safe.”

But before they can leave, you barge in the door with a huff. “I thought the Undercity was a maze, but this place was designed by a drunken architect.”

After changing into the uniform and throwing your cloak over it in an attempt to hide the blinding color, you stepped out of the restroom—only to realize the professor had really left you to figure your own way back to the lab.

“Jayce, Can I borrow your bag again?”

Without waiting for a response, you start shoving your clothes into it. The action paused as the silence in the room makes you glance over your shoulder.

It looks like the two of them are deep in a silent argument. Jayce finally breaks away and steps in front of you, clearing his throat before speaking. “So, uh, you’re wearing a uniform now?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s called a cloak, Jayce,” Viktor says, his voice laced with a knowing tone.

Jayce turns back to him, seemingly picking up where their silent exchange left off, but his tone is more curious than annoyed. “Oh, is it? Then what would you call the clothes under the cloak?”

Viktor’s lips curl at one side, moving to gather items for the presentation. “Perhaps an attempt at blending in for the council?” He pauses, eyes glancing toward you, waiting for a response.

“It’s not blending in if I’m already, uh, in,” you reply, unsure of how they’ll react. You hope they won’t be too shocked—after everything that’s happened today, you can’t take any more surprises.

They both share a final, quick glance. Jayce smiles softly. “Well, alright then.” Viktor gives a subtle nod, clearly pleased.

#viktor x reader #jayce x reader #jayvik x reader #jayce talis #jayce x viktor #arcane jayce #viktor arcane #jayvik #viktor/jayce #viktor/reader #jayce/viktor

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starberry-cupcake · 2 days ago

Text

I'm trying the post-it method and it's really messy but, if it helps, I'll keep it up, because I feel like live-reading doesn't help me out with processing this as much as going back on notes does...god, I sound like palmolive...

previously, in nona del 9:

this happened

this is the general tag for all the recaps I've done

CHAPTER 8 (third house skull, which, I guess, but tangentially)

sriracha girlie from school is still on the case and asks nona to up her game in the surveillance task and pretend she's on a radio call

she doesn't elaborate but I doubt it'd help nona understand much anyway if she does

she's just happy to help

nona has to put little boots in the six-legged dog's feet before going out into the scorching heat, though

it's the summer here, so I feel you, noodle

(bonus info: our new puppy apparently has been aptly named because she has 0 fear and is trying to jump into the pool head first like a maniac)

so nona, because she has no preservation skills either, just like our puppy, thinks is a good idea to pretend like she's talking to coronabeer

she still calls her "crown", but it doesn't make me feel any more ok with her pretend calling coronabeer of all people

wasn't she with BOE and whatnot? what if the enemy is listening?

she invites her to her birthday party on the beach

and I might be too cautious but I know better than to share so much information in the wild outdoors where someone could listen

like 'I'm gonna be in this location at this day, please come steal from me or whatever'

maybe it's just my latine self talking, but be careful out there

how do they trust this girl to not be a hazard on her own?

she's like 8 years old

oh, great, I sound like mercygirl now

nona starts drowsing off and a bible chapter comes in, which people have told me is her sleeping

gonna remind everyone I didn't find that out on my own

that's not a victory for me

JOHN 15:23

"Whoever hates me hates my Father as well" is the bible verse in this one

well, then

I haven't read the bible this much since I was in my second school (out of 4)

so here we are again with dr. reverend emperor john buttface's monologue

there's a distraction tactic possibility to get him killed, if we ever need one

he mentions the eye color change as things get weird with their experiments

and says cassiopeia?? potentially? or cyrus? told him he looked like edward cullen "from that old movie twilight"

like I'm not gonna clock dr. reverend emperor john having read twilight with his own two changing eyes

so dr reverend emperor john the menace and his terrible lyctors start doing awful things to the corpses that aren't rotting

allegedly due to dr reverend emperor john "loving them"

whatever that means

and the corpses remain undamaged

what I'd like to point out here is that these people are deranged and god awful even when they hadn't been 25 million years old

this is them brand new from the package and they're all either terrible or complicit in being terrible

I think cassiopeia is the only one visibly suffering but still, man

these people were always like this, this isn't some "we've been out in space so long we've lost touch with our humanity"

happy out of touch thursday, this is you, this has always been you

dr reverend emperor john starts talking about touching the corpses' hands and feeling them even when they aren't there with him

mercygirl is doubting his sanity

yet still they all followed him to hell, so who's crazier here

they picked two corpses, a guy and a gal, to make more specific experiments on, and he named them ulysses and titania

titania after the shakespeare character

ulysses not after the greek hero

and by controlling their hands from across the room I guess they discover necromancy

he's still talking to harrow through all this

CHAPTER 9 (sixth house skull, but at what cost?????)

sriracha girle tells nona that, after her imaginary phone call with coronabeer, the ceaseless watcher left the building

literally

nobody knows what this means but sriracha girlie is still on the case

then they start hearing shots outside and everyone has their safety precautions but they're all bored about it instead of afraid

wish this was just a fiction thing and not the current world

so everyone gets picked up except for sriracha girle, as ush

camilla comes to pick up nona from school and gets pastries (aka facturas, where I'm from)

camilla is doing the lord's work here

she got them by selling out pyrrha's cigarettes, apparently, which I find a great exchange but I don't smoke, so I'm obviously team facturas

then, we get a nona flashback from a month prior, about the Event which prevents them from going swimming anymore

they used to go to the sea at dusk to have some private time with the water

and by them I mean nona went swimming, because the sea is filled with deadly jellyfish, so they'd kill a regular person, but not nona

she can swim with the jellyfish, which sounds beautiful, actually

the whole swimming description is so relaxing and beautiful and I am hating this heat but I'm grateful for the swimming opportunity it provides

swimming is great

swimming with jellyfish without dying must be great

relaxing moment for 3.5 seconds for everyone

of course things can't be relaxing for too long, this is tlt we're talking about

nona sees some people surrounding camilla and guesses it must be the police

which, in every universe, is a Problem

tons of police men surrounding one woman, yeah, doesn't look great

but I was fine because this is camilla fucking hect we're talking about

no cops at pride, just camilla and knives

nona can't hear their conversation but, at one point, she can hear camilla say "speak House"

which ??????????????????????'

doesn't sound good AT ALL

nona sees one of them pointing a gun and warns camilla, which earns nona a shot through the shoulder

so then, when nona resurfaces, she finds everyone lying motionless and camilla squatting on the sand

and I was like "of course my baby did that"

youtube

but then nona looks at her and she's got one camilla eye and one palmolive eye

and is talking like camolive is some sort of dragon ball fusion

they ask nona not to freak out

I'm freaking out

camolive's timer starts going like crazy and they ask nona to drive them home

camilla comes back to herself at this point BUT

she's bleeding everywhere

like, blood coming out of her skin

it's everywhere

nona asks her to get palmolive but camilla says they can't

so nona has to drive them home in the middle of the night with the blood and the salty water and the potential police following

nona thankfully can manage and pyrrha says camilla is in thanergy shock

she says they can never do that again and that if palmolive wasn't sharing a body with her, she'd be kicking his ass

AND I WOULD BE TOO

PALMOLIVE, I SAID IT LAST RECAP, MAN

YOU HAD ONE JOB

KEEPING CAMILLA SAFE

WHAT ARE YOU DOING??????

camilla asks them to not tell palmolive she was "weak"

pyrrha drinks in camilla's honor while she's recuperating and nona asks her why she said goodbye to her if she's gonna be fine

to which pyrrha asks how does she know she was saying goodbye

basically, camilla is not dying but she's also not fine

which I got from the very heavy bleeding, thank you very much doctor pyrrha

if something happens to camilla I swear to whatever god that isn't the monologuing prick in the sleeping chapters I'm gonna go feral

PALMOLIVE I'M GOING TO CHASE YOU DOWN

AND THAT'S IT FOR THIS RECAP!!! I think the post its system is better for me?? I'll figure it out as I go. See you on the next one!!!

#luly reacts to tlt #nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #tlt #tlt spoilers #long post #gif cw #death cw #suicide cw #Youtube

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sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now · 2 days ago

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The Process of the Voices designs (inspired by @everestgale )

(If you’re seeing this, it means that all of the voices have their own references!)

That was a big project

(Height lineup with current designs!!!!!)

(And apparently there was a limit to how many photos I can add per post on mobile so I had to work around the limit in order to be able to show you as much as possible. I’m sorry if the sketches have horrible quality ;^;)

Starting thought process

The first thing I had thought of when I had just stepped foot into the fandom space all the way back when the game was still new was to make each of the voices be represented by a different bird. I had never really drawn anything regarding to that idea, however.

But as Pristine Cut released, I had finally found the motivation to actually start designing the voices. Now the game is done, my thoughts process became “let’s just make the voices look vaguely bird-like without really basing them off of any bird type completely” to give myself a bit more freedom in designing them. Just a little leeway. TLQ is basically a mix between mammal and bird, so I thought I can probably continue this design aspect with the voices as well.

I had also challenged myself to not use any clothing items for any of the voices, cause TLQ isn’t really wearing anything in the first place, so I don’t really think the voices would spawn in with clothes already on their bodies.

With that said, let us continue to…

Terror and Longing (Paranoid and Cold)

Cold is the first ever one I had drawn, which is why he looked so “rough” and less shape like in my post for him. My thought process for him is pretty straightforward, and it’s just a reaper bird with a hole in his chest to symbolise the emptiness that can never be filled by normal means. His princess is a ghost, a lot of the chapter 3 routes that he’s in have princesses that are related to ghosts in some way, so to me it just makes sense for him to be a reaper. His body is basically just a big ol’ blanket. A cold one, but a blanket nonetheless. You can quite literally go inside him like he’s some sort of blanket tent.

Also I’m gonna semi-retcon the “Physical form gained with the leave ending” part of the notes. He and the rest of the voices already looks like this even before they gain their physical form, albeit much more shadowy and without actual line art.

Unlike most of the voice designs here, there really aren’t any visual elements that connects Paranoid and Cold together as parallels on how they view pain. Mainly because I mostly designed Paranoid solely on his overall “vibes” as a character. In my concept sketches, he looked more like a spindly exposed nerve noodle than how he is now. I do intend to give him a minor redesign in the future so that he could match better with Cold, however.

But in a way it kinda worked out for me, as Nightmare and Paranoid are basically just creepy delicate doll + goofy sock puppet, which is kind of funny to me

Now looking back, it would have been perfect to name the post as “Bones and Nerves” if I had decided to post them in paired at the very beginning.

Skepticism and Blind Devotion (Skeptic and Smitten)

(^^^Cloaked/Detective Skeptic design and Caged Head Skeptic design belongs to @/remaking-machine and @/bubblybloob respectively. Mainly drew them for inspiration and get my gears going)

When I had first sketched Smitten, I knew that I wanted him to have a big chest and to have an overwhelming presence, to show that Smitten thinks with his heart instead of actually seeing what’s in front of him (hence the small round puppy eyes that he closes most of the time). He’s delulu and I love him for that <3

But then a thought just came to me like “hey, wouldn’t it be really funny if his chest is like, 80% of his whole body?”, and so I listened because god damn it it’s so funny that I CAN-NOT NOT listen to that (and I was so delighted to see most of the tags were pointing out the size of his bosom. Funniest thing ever). Smitten is top-heavy, which kinda symbolise how Smitten is a pretty “head-in-the-clouds” sort of guy, where his heart/chest make him look like it’s gonna take flight with him, flying up like a balloon

(Unfortunately the ratio of his chest and body became a lot more balanced again the more I draw him, since I realised that it’s harder for me to draw his chest fluff consistently.)

As for Skeptic, I wanted him to parallel Smitten regarding their physical appearances. And hence, Skeptic has sharper, bigger eyes, smaller body with huge wings to cover himself up, which contrasts with Smitten’s round, smaller eyes, with a big body revealing his heart to the world and small wings to “guard” himself with. His big wings being a play on “the truth sets you free”, but it clearly becomes more of a burden as he continuously tries and push onward and makes things more complicated then it should be, like how he does in Cage. (Fun fact, the bigger the wings the harder it is to swim)

Originally I wanted Skeptic’s design to look like a blob of smoke/shadow with little to no clear defined features except for his face, or just a bunch of lines like those line creature thingies from the animated movie Soul, but it later didn’t really click for me when I compare him with the other designs I have made (it’s kinda boring looking), so I’ve made a slight redesign to give him a more defined body structure, since I don’t think he needs that shadowy unreadable body when he already has his big wings to protect himself with.

(You might not have noticed this, but Smitten and Skeptic are the only two that have their full bodies drawn in the same panel, while the rest of the pairs have them be separated in two different panels. I just decided to keep it that way, since I thought it was funny that these two have never met face to face with each other in game, but here they are the only ones drawn together)

Consumption and Betrayal (Hunted and Opportunist)

Ahhhh Oppy

I immediately knew what I wanted to do with this slimy bastard, and that is making him a fox.

Part of me really really really want to make him cat-themed so that not only does he match well with Witch, but to also hit the pun for “cat-fight” for the dance of infinite tricks between the two. But a fox fits him as well, as foxes and cats do not seem to like each other. Oppy still being a bird while making himself look like a stereotypical scheming predator also makes for good symbolism for how he hides his vulnerability behind his many masks. His creepy smile was inspired by how he looked in PatD while he was controlling TLQ’s body.

I also gave him a longer neck, so that he could look farther away. I just think a long neck fits him.

(He doesn’t tell anyone this, but he feels more comfortable walking on all fours. He’s just accustomed to walk on two legs to make himself look slightly bigger, since he’s already on the shorter/cuter side)

As for Hunted, my first thought for him is to make him big and nimble-looking, but I had decided that I’m gonna be the contrarian and go the other direction that isn’t my first thought, settling down with a smaller, cuter looking Hunted then what I had first envisioned, as you can see with the first paper sketches of him being a small little creature

I wanted him to scream “prey”, and to further contrast him with Beast, who became bigger than what she had started with. That’s a big part of why I had decided against the longer design despite a part of me really liking the idea.

(Since Hunted is not only a bird, but is also a rabbit and a rat thingy, in which all three are prey animals. Does that make him prey-squared)

Rivalry and Submission (Stubborn and Broken)

Stubborn’s design is pretty straight forward, as I’ve already have a clear image of what he looks like in my head. I was worried that he might look too human-like, but I guess my worries were all for nothing cause he turned out quite monstrous. Decided to make him have big arms to make him look even heavier and much more of a hard hitter.

His design was inspired by multiple things, being a demon, a dragon(both the demon and dragon part are here to tie his route with Adversary and to parallel Broken), a roaster and a bull, while also keeping the bird-like elements. Out of everyone, he was probably the hardest to draw on digital aside from Smitten when I had first started drawing them. I am not good at drawing big men.

The bull/horns part came later while I was creating my design for him, and you can see that I was trying to take inspiration from All Might of all people to give Stubborn those two little thingies on top of his head. I did not like the V shaped tuffs and settled for horns instead simply because it looks cooler. It then just created this demon-angel connection with Stubborn and Broken, and I liked it so much that I decided to just go with it

Broken’s design had actually evolved a long way from his first conceptualisation. Originally he was just a bunch of broken glass shards that vaguely forms into an image of a person. But then I realised it’ll be too hard to draw over and over, so I redesigned him into more of a sad lump instead. Really happy about my decision.

He’s mostly round in shape language until he decides to stand up straight, which makes him look more regal and “angelic”. His eyes and beak have that sharp edge to them to show that he still has the capacity to bite back if he wanted to. The crack on his eye was meant to make him look like he’s crying instead of a scar to be proud of like how Stubborn’s scar reads, making him a weeping angel.

(Looking back on it, he kinda look like a melted candle)

Pain and Unfamiliarity (Cheated and Contrarian)

Oooooh boy, I have a lot of things to say about these two

I have tired sketching Contrarian’s design out many many times, and many of them weren’t able to hit the exact spot(which is kind of ironic, cause it’s Contrarian that I was designing(he also deserved his own spread sheet of sketches, cause there was so so much of it))

These ideas include—making him the only one with white feathers, having an odd number of limbs, making him look like a twisting messy arrow, making him look like a Picasso art piece, taking annoying character design do-nots and then putting all of it onto his design just to be annoying(aka very crowded and unreadable designs where you don’t even know what you’re looking at anymore), making him into a regular bird simply because it would be really funny, giving him more then one singular head etc (also, that little Jester imp design I’ve drawn to de-stress was made by @/itsonlypolite . Thank you for the design absnsjaj)

It was until I had decided to take a break from designing him that I had finally figured out what I really wanted for him. I reminded myself that I wanted his design to be simplistic enough so that it would be easy to draw, so I had returned to the basics for him, which back then was just a simple fluffy bird noodle, and then things went a bit more smoothly after that.

I took inspiration from Discord’s design from MLP and made Contrarian have body parts that corresponds to the other voices. After all, what is a Contrarian without anyone to contrast with?

I also designed his head wings to give the illusion of a jester hat. Unlike the rest of the voices, he doesn’t have wings on his back, the one place that a pair of wings should be at anatomically speaking, simply because it would be funny. He does have a pair of wings on his butt though.

And the more I designed him, the more clear I was for the theming for Contra and Cheated, which is basically a Jester and the unfortunate person who got picked for the Jester’s practicing of magic tricks. And the person is just trying not to get hit by the throwing knifes.

As for Cheated, I also had trouble coming up with a design for him. Unlike Contrarian, whom I had too many ideas that I didn’t know where to go from there, he had way too little sketches and ideas. I already knew that I wanted him to look like he had been ripped apart to compliment Razor, but I had never tried to sketch him out until almost all of the other designs were complete. Then I had started to try and relate his character design with game elements, since both Contrarian and Cheated are basically meta for the player mentality, and I eventually came up with him having a Paper sort of texture. Not only does it relate back to paper cards, it also shows that he could never win against Razor, cause Scissors beat Paper no matter how you try (and Narrator is the Rock no one wants)

(That would make him and Razor’s ship name be PaperCut. That’s so cute actually)

At one point of the process, a part of me wanted him to look like a rabbit to fit the whole magic thing, but eventually decided against it due to not wanting him to overlap with Hunted, who already has a rabbit theme. So I’ve turned my attention elsewhere.

The inspiration for his design are mainly origami birds, since I wanted to give him an illusion that he was made out of paper cards to fit with the game theme. His silhouette, much like Contrarian, is not symmetrical at all. But instead of having the different parts be mashed together harmoniously in a weird way like Contrarian, his body is just a mess, with him sticking his body back into place over and over again. I’d imagine that his body was sewn together with paper with different textures(he gets even messier in Razor!!!).

With him being paper themed, it also gave me the opportunity to hide small jokes in his design and just go wild with the puns. A part of me felt like that would be a tad bit too cruel for him. He’s been through enough… but then again… paper puns. (Call me Razor cause I’m just having fun torturing him)

At the Heart of it all… (Narrator and Hero)

Hero is actually one of the easier ones for me to design, considering I’ve already decided that he is going to look the most human out of all of the other voices. I designed him with the image of a harpy and some of the fandom’s interpretation of TLQ at the back of my mind. Since I made these designs with the Pristine Cut being out, I had referenced his appearance from what the Pristine Cut trailer has shown of TLQ, which is a lot more human-like.

Hero is basically a smaller and less intimidating looking version of TLQ, since he is what TLQ wishes he was. A Hero. He’s probably what TLQ imagined himself to look like when he still didn’t know his own appearance, and imagined himself to look less intimidating, much like how the fandom in the early days imagined TLQ to be like before Pristine Cut. It’s a bit meta, but I think it works.

I had considered giving him a helmet, but then decided against it for two reasons:

One, I don’t want to break the rule that I had set for myself, which is to not give any of the voices clothing items(acceptable to give them the illusion of clothes, however)

And two, him not having the helmet, the symbol of knighthood and heroism, shows that he is unsure of his heroism, and is usually unsure of his decisions and what should be considered as “the right thing to do”

Narrator on the other hand look basically the same as the other interpretations of him. I had actually considered giving him an alternative design, where he is a well-dressed man with a crow mask covering his head, holding a scroll in his hand.

But I decided that the symbolic meaning of a mortal man losing all semblance of humanity after his death, and the gods he had trapped have become more human then he is much more fitting (and ironic). So now he’s just a bird with a scroll.

Author on the other hand, I decided to keep his head in the shadow and keep it as a vague silhouette, while the rest of his body is still somewhat visible. I designed a version where he’s got his face uncovered, but I later decided that it’s more fun with Author’s faces being inconsistent every time I draw him, mainly because Narry probably doesn’t even remember how he had looked like when he was still alive. These sketches are probably vague recollections of what Narry believed he looked like, so each of the faces look a little different from each other. He will be the only one without a solid reference.

I wanted Author to have tired sad-looking eyes, and so his eyes are one of the few consistent things about him. Aside from the eyes, his two hair tuffs and his glasses are still gonna be a part of his design, but will probably look slightly different every time his face was drawn. So there’s that.

Annnnnd that’s about it for my rambling! Thank you all for sticking around till the finishing of this project ^^ (and reading all of this till the end holy hell I’ve typed so much)

And oh boy this took me a while to make, I was literally making this post at the same time as I was drawing the references. It kinda made the journey a little less intimidating for me hehe

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persephone-writes · 19 hours ago

Text

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Nineteen: Yours, James

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Eighteen ☆ Series Masterlist

Description: You and James are forced to deal with the highly eventful nature of Saturday night

Word Count: 5.6k

The scarlet curtains of your four-poster were closed, though not well. You threw an arm over your face to block out the sunlight shining through the gap, turning over with a groan. Your attempt to go back to sleep did not last long, a rush of adrenaline surging through your veins as the memories of last night flooded your mind.

James’s lips, your giggling as he whispered in your ear, the cloak over you both as he led you back to the common room, slipping back inside the party, or at least what was left of it.

You had found Marlene strewn out on the sofa, clearly rather drunk. Sirius was still there as well, half heartedly flirting with a girl in your class, his wine-stained smile strained. There were only stranglers left, the morning fast approaching. Marlene asked you where you went, but you only said you took a walk, which was good enough for her in her hazy state. She told you Lily and Dorcas had already gone to bed, leaving you to follow in their footsteps. As you went to head up the stairs, you glanced back at James, waving his wand across a table littered with empty bottles and cigarette ash. His eyes found yours, sparkling like twin stars.

You sat up in bed, your hands fisting into your blanket as your heart pounded. You couldn’t tell if what you were feeling was joy or dread, or perhaps an unnatural mixture of the two. Even through your racing thoughts, the unmistakable gnaw of guilt dug its way to the surface. You pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes, your stomach churning as you pondered what the fuck you were going to do.

You took a deep breath, peeking through the curtains. Lily and Marlene’s beds were empty, though Dorcas still seemed to be in hers, likely sleeping off a wicked hangover. Hesitantly, you tiptoed to the bathroom, shutting the door softly behind you. You caught your reflection in the mirror, mildly a wreck, a little tired, though not too bad given the circumstances.

You filled the basin with water, scrubbing your face as if it would rid you of last night's deeds. You could still feel the cold wind on your skin, the touch of his lips to yours, his voice like honey as he told you he loved you. You had gotten exactly what you wanted, the thing you had dreamt of countless nights, though it still wasn’t enough. You wanted James risk-free, you wanted to be with him and still have Lily as your best friend, no complications. You leaned your hands on the edge of the sink, you head hung towards your chest.

A bitter laugh bubbled from you, a last ditch effort to try and come to terms with what you were faced with. At least at the present moment, you recognized two options: preserve your friendship with Lily at all costs, or put it in jeopardy. The former meant pushing James away, the latter meant continuing whatever was going on with him. As you stuck your toothbrush into your mouth, a permanent crease in your brow, you wondered what was going on with him. You hadn’t exactly defined your relationship the night prior, though it was safe to assume you could no longer consider him just a friend.

By the time you got dressed, you still had no idea what you were going to do. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see James when you went down to the common room, unsure of how you would act, what you would say around the others. For all you knew, everyone could already know. If you had it your way, you’d run over to him, wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him like you had last night. But you couldn’t, shouldn’t, not with so much at stake.

You descended the stairs with bated breath, your hands shaking as you saw Lily drinking a cup of tea in one of the armchairs nestled in the corner, a textbook in her lap. She was entirely alone and did not seem angry in the slightest. You couldn’t help but stare at her for a moment, memorizing the peaceful expression on her face, the color of her hair like the mountains in autumn. It felt as if every second was precious, every day she still loved you to be remembered fondly.

She looked up from her work as you approached, offering you a kind smile, another thing to recall once she never wanted to speak to you again. You forced a casual look as you threw yourself into the seat across from her, still unable to meet her eyes.

“Long night?” she asked, chuckling a bit at your demeanor, which she must have taken for grogginess.

“You could say that,” you said, glancing around the common room. “Where is everyone?”

“Marlene’s in the Library with Mary. I don’t know where the guys are.”

You raised your brows. “You didn’t go with them?”

“I wanted to wait for you,” she said, her lips pulling into a line. She hesitated a moment before speaking, careful with her words, “Are you all right, after what happened last night?”

You nodded, preparing yourself for a whole new set of lies. Instead of pretending you didn’t like him at all, now you had to pretend that you both weren’t hopelessly in love with each other.

You swallowed, trying to prepare yourself as much as you could, “Yeah, I just got a bit shaken, s’all. I needed to get out of the party for a minute, take a walk.”

You held your breath again, the air thick as you waited for her to react. She didn’t seem to feel any of your nervousness, nodding as she closed her book and grabbed her cup.

“Lets get some breakfast,” she said, standing with a small smile.

You were hungry, though for the first time in your life, you didn’t want to be alone with her. Usually it was James you had to avoid, skirting around invitations, excusing yourself to do your homework. Unfortunately for you, that would not work with Lily. She would catch on right away, cornering you with that sympathetic look of hers, practically forcing you into telling her what was going on. You could never resist it, hence why she knew every single secret of yours, except for one.

“Sure,” you said, having no other choice.

Realistically, you wondered how long you could keep it from her even with all your lies. For now she seemed none the wiser, pleased as she carried her things with her as you headed out of the common room. Behind you in the corridor the Fat Lady was singing an Italian opera, just out of pitch enough to raise the hair on the back of your neck.

“No, per pieta, sei mia! V’aspenttan gli amici. Gia mi mandi via?”

Lily glanced behind back, watching as the Fat Lady swayed as if she were basking in the lights of the Teatro La Fenice. “Lovely work!” she said, smiling as the Fat Lady stopped, giggling girlishly.

“My painter, Lorenzo Matero, said I was made for the stage,” said the Fat Lady, brushing a curling strand of hair from her face. She continued to sing, just as poorly as before, “Vorrei dir, ma non osso. Di! Se venissi con voi?”

You both scurried down the corridor towards the staircase, trying to keep your snickers down.

When you were far enough away, Lily sighed, shaking her head with another laugh. “Even if she’s awful, I think I'd miss it if she stopped.”

“Really?” you asked, looking at her from the corner of your eye.

She shrugged. “It’s sort of sweet, right?”

“Yeah, in a way,” you said, smiling despite your ever-present anxiety. It was hard not to smile around Lily. “I wonder how she learned them.”

“Maybe there was a student who was really into opera,” Lily suggested.

You laughed, “Well if there was, they have any idea what kind of trouble they caused.”

“I thought we agreed it was nice,” she said, her eyes playfully narrowed.

You didn’t say anything for a moment, your hands finding their way into your pockets. “You think everything is nice.”

You were able to get through your early lunch in the kitchens without passing out from the stress, though it wasn’t easy. At every chance you turned the conversation towards one of your shared classes, discussing your Charms assignment or your trouble studying for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s. Thankfully, Lily seemed just as happy to go over the boring details of Transfiguration theory as anything else. You nodded along, trying your best not to let the festering guilt show in your expression.

You grew more jittery on your way back to Gryffindor Tower, realizing it was becoming more and more imperative to your mental wellbeing that you talked with James. You feared he would be around every corner, waiting to ambush you with declarations of love like he had done with Lily a few years ago. The memory made your chest tight, a sliver of insecurity weaseling its way past the airy, spirited feeling of new love.

When you and Lily entered the common room you thought you might faint. Having worked yourself up during the long walk back, the sight of James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter by the fire was nearly enough to push you over the edge. With no other choice, you followed Lily to the group, hoping you were a prized actress.

“How's the headaches?” Lily teased, looking around at them.

Sirius stretched out his legs with a cocky smile, his jeans riding up to reveal mismatched socks, again. “None for me, sister.”

Although he seemed recovered, Sirius was a little paler than normal, a slight tinge of purple under his eyes. It looked less unkempt on him than it would on anyone else, like a rockstar after a show. Remus was fine, of course, Peter only sleep deprived. James…well, James looked as handsome as ever, though you were not an unbiased judge. His curls were untamed, his arm thrown over the back of the sofa. The sight of him made your heart leap, everything in you screaming to simply let your eyes soften as you looked at him.

You fought against it, leaning against the back of the armchair that Peter was sitting in before poking your head down. “How many did you have last night?”

Peter shrugged weakly, scrunching his nose as he turned to look up at you. “Didn’t count.”

“You should’ve seen Meadowes,” said Sirius with a bark of laughter. “She went double or nothing in Sparks with Moony.”

“Now, why would you let her do that, Remus?” Lily sighed, giving him a strong look of disapproval.

“Free will,” he said, his smile small but cheeky.

Lily shook her head, though it was rare she stayed upset with him. In a few minutes his wrongdoings would be entirely forgotten.

“Won’t share any of your potion with her?” you asked Sirius, trying your best not to let your eyes drift to James, who had been staring at you since you arrived. You felt your face heating, your fingers digging into the cushion of the chair.

“Of course he won’t,” Remus said.

Sirius glared at James and Remus, who were each laughing at him, flicking his head to get his hair out of his eyes. “It’s a bitch to make,” he said, scoffing as if it would make it better. “It’s her fault, anyway. Who goes double or nothing against him?”

Lily pursed her lips, glancing at the girl’s staircase. “I should go check on her. She might want me to bring her up some lunch.”

You watched her closely as she left, flying up the staircase with her textbook tucked under her arm. Before you could stop yourself, you turned back to James, pushing off the armchair with newfound bravery.

“I was wondering if I could ask you a question about a spell I want to try for dueling. I found it in the library, but I’ve never heard of it before.”

“What spell is that?” Sirius asked with a smirk, bloodcurdling and conniving.

“Oh, uh,” you faltered, quickly trying to make up a spell in your head. “Ingarius scintillum. Ever heard of it?”

His stare was like hot ice, freezing you over. “No, I haven’t,” he said slowly, his head tilting as his eyes roved over you.

James stood, his face lacking any acknowledgment of what he surely knew was a ploy to get him alone. He skirted around Remus’s legs, moving towards you.

“C’mon, we shouldn’t talk about it here anyway,” he said, his voice a bit clipped towards the end.

He glanced back at Sirius, though you could only see the latter’s expression, still enjoying the show. He placed a hand on your shoulder, sending a spark running down your arm as he turned you around towards the portrait. You could hear a soft snicker from Sirius as you went out into the corridor, relaxing when you were finally free of his teasing.

You didn’t have enough time to fully appreciate the fact that you were alone before he grabbed your hand, motioning down the hall. “Let’s get out of here.”

With your fingers entwined, he pulled you towards the south side of the castle, the corridors encircling courtyards frequented by Gryffindors looking to study outside. There was nothing much this way but old lookouts from a bygone era when Hogwarts acted as a battleground. You hoped this place would never see that again, remaining untainted by the harshest realities of the war.

In a matter of minutes there wasn’t a student or professor in sight, James hiding you each away in a small alcove, its rounded window overlooking Hogsmeade in the distance. He dropped your hand, a faint smile on his lips as he looked at you, lit by the rays bursting through a cloudless sky. You smiled as well, unable to stop yourself. You felt giddy, and as you had put it to Marlene all those weeks ago, thirteen again. Even so, this was entirely different from all the other teenage flings that scattered your past like rogue ink blots on an otherwise presine paper. You had never been in love, and no one had been in love with you. It was a new, undeniably fantastic feeling, blinding you to all else.

“Hi,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat.

“Hi,” he said back, more amused than anything. After a beat his smile dropped, though not completely. The longer he remained silent, the more you thought he seemed nervous, perhaps for the first time since you’ve known him. “You still feel the same, right?” he asked, as if doubtful of his own words.

Taken up by the excitement of your covert meeting, you momentarily forgot about the guilt eating away at you. The heaviness in your chest was replaced by sparks of heady joy, beguiled by his uncertainty. You grinned, lost in the look of him. “Of course, I do.”

He brightened, practically glowing. “I— really?”

“Yeah, really,” you laughed, shaking your head at him. Soon, however, the feeling settled, leaving you to remember the purpose of getting him alone in the first place. You bit your lip, sighing as you broke the moment. “We have to talk about this, how we’re gonna do things,” you said, watching as his smile dropped away to furrowed brows.

“What d’you mean?”

“You and me,” you said, motion between you. “Our situation is a little abnormal, don’t you think?”

“What’s abnormal about it? We were mates and now we’re in love. It’s fairly typical, when you think about it,” he said with a shrug. He seemed eager to continue your initial conversation, his fingers hanging off the pockets of his jeans.

You took a moment to think of how you could word it, knowing that in a way, he was right. However, the fact that he and Lily had dated seemed to conveniently slip his mind.

“I know you don’t think Lily will be upset, but I really think she might be miffed with me,” you said, cringing at the thought of having to tell her you kissed her ex boyfriend. “Just imagine that Sirius started dating Lily. How would you feel?”

James paused to consider this scenario, his face becoming mildly repulsed. “That’s completely different. It’s Sirius. He’s my mate and all…but you have to admit that's different than you and me.”

You crossed your arms, unconvinced. “How so?”

“Number one, that’d never happen,” he began, completely sure of his statement. “Number two, it’s Sirius.”

You rolled your eyes, though he did have a point. Your arms fell to your sides again, twitchy and in need of something to do. “What about Remus, then?”

“I’d be fine,” he said enthusiastically. “Sure, it’d be weird seeing them together at first, but I’d get over it. It might actually make me happy, Remus is a good guy.”

“It’s just different with us. I don’t know how to explain it,” you said, your shoulders slumping.

He stepped in front of you, forcing you to look him in the eyes. You had always loved them, the color, the shape, the way they unabashedly told you how he felt. Now, it was love.

“I love you, Y/N. And Godric, I’ve fancied you for—” he stopped, swallowing as his gaze darted across your face, hurried yet distinctly sentimental. You wished you didn’t have business to attend to, for any other time you would have kissed him silly. “Whatever happens, even if she’s absolutely livid, it’ll be okay in the end. Even if Sirius started dating Lily I’d get over it eventually. I’d just have to.”

“How long?” you asked, the question falling out of you before you could think.

“How long what?”

“How long have you fancied me?”

Your heart raced as you watched his blush deepen, pink across his cheeks. He smiled sheepishly, his gaze drifting away. For once, you were the one watching him sweat.

“Tell me,” you said, trying to stop yourself from laughing.

He resisted for a few more seconds, slowly cracking under your scrutiny. He dipped his head down, his hair flopping onto his forehead. “Since last year,” he mumbled.

“Last year!” you exclaimed, far louder than you should have. “When last year?” you asked quickly, the idea that you and James had been fawning over each other for this long nearly too much to process.

He shrugged, still uncharacteristically shy. A guilty part of you reveled in it, though not enough to drag it out any longer. You wanted to know, and you wanted to know now.

“C’mon,” you begged, slowly dying the longer he held out.

“You’re not gonna like it,” he said warily. You only stared at him, urging him to speak. “It may have been a contributing factor to me and Lily, y’know, throwing in the towel.”

Your mouth hung open for a moment, searching his expression for falsehoods. You found none. “Merlin’s beard, are you kidding me?”

“I didn’t tell her that, of course, but I feel like she had a pretty good idea,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What do you mean…a pretty good idea?” you asked, dread rushing like a cold sweat from your head to your feet.

“I don’t know,” he said, his hand flying from his neck in an exacerbated fit. “I just have a feeling she might know something. I have to be at least somewhat obvious, cause Padfoot’s been on my arse for a month now—”

“Oh, that's my fault,” you said with an apologetic, somewhat embarrassed expression. His perplexity was evident, his mouth ajar as he stared at you. You sighed, your head hanging for a moment as you prepared to explain yourself. “He knows that I fancy you. He found out the night of the quidditch match in February.”

His eyes widened. “Thats why you’ve been so pissy with him! I felt like I was going mad.”

“He’s been the worst. I told Marlene in the corridor during the party, and then he found out where we were on the map and talked to a fucking portrait. Said he was bored, the little shit,” you grumbled, pausing for a moment as you remembered his earlier statement. “Why do you think Lily knows?”

“Did she ever tell you about when we broke up?” he asked, his voice back down to a whisper.

“Sort of,” you began, casting your mind back to the day. You had all stayed up the entire night in your dormitory, Marlene cursing James out the entire time. Lily was quiet, though not in awful spirits, insistent that it was for the best. “She said that you guys fought too much, but that she was the one who thought you two should break up. She said it was— I don’t know— amicable in the end.”

It felt wrong to discuss it with James, almost sinful, especially after last night. You wished you didn’t have to, that things were different.

He nodded, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “That's basically it. But when we were talking about it she said something to me, and it made me think that she knew, and it scared me shitless at the time,” he let out a short breath from his nose, almost chuckling at the memory. You didn’t say anything, waiting for him to drop the dungbomb. “She said something like we weren’t meant for eachother, and that she knew she wasn’t the one I wanted to be with anymore. She thought we should just cut our losses. At first I didn’t really know what she meant by the second part, but I figured I wouldn’t argue, because she was right. We weren’t meant for each other.”

You took a breath, gnawing at your lip. “You really think she meant me?”

His adams apple bobbed, his face blank for a beat before his expression relaxed, his mouth barely turning up at the corners. “Do you remember when you had that History of Magic project where you had to research an invention within the last century, and you chose Sleekeazy’s?”

“Yeah,” you said, a bit embarrassed given the hindsight. You ended up sending a few letters back and forth with Mr. Potter, who was kind enough to answer all your questions, almost overjoyed that someone would ask.

“When you asked me if you could, do you remember what I said to you?” he asked, a small twinkle in his eyes.

You laughed a bit, having no clue where he was going with any of this. “No, I don’t.”

“I said, ‘He’ll be so happy, he’ll think he’s hearing wedding bells.’ And then you said something like, ‘You’re ridiculous, James!’” his voice went high-pitched, the worst impression ever given, though you still laughed. “And you did that, you laughed, and I remember thinking, Godric, I’m in trouble, cause I want to hear her laugh forever,” he stopped, as if he was chewing his words before he said them. “Lily was there, she saw the way I looked at you. When I saw that she saw, I hoped she didn’t catch it, but in the back of my mind I knew that she would. How could she not?”

You didn’t know what to say, your mouth opening and then closing again. Nothing made sense any longer, all your previous notions having flown out the window. You wondered if he could be right, if Lily really had caught on to his crush. Did that mean she knew about yours as well?

Despite all of this, you threw yourself into his chest like you had wanted to all day, letting him squeeze you so tightly it was almost too much. Everything was nearly perfect, so close it was all the more painful that it wasn’t. But for now, this was heaven.

James placed his hand on your jaw, tilting your head to look at him. He seemed stricken by something wonderful, a fleeting poignancy crossing his face before he pressed his lips to yours. It was a kiss that could turn the world to gold. Your heart was still racing when you each pulled away, fuzzy with the feeling of him.

“We don’t have to tell anyone, if you don’t want,” he began, hesitant as his gaze drifted from yours, down to your lips and over your cheeks. Wherever his eyes went you felt beautiful, more than you ever have in your entire life.

You could tell he wanted to speak more, though he wouldn’t meet your eyes, his bright smile fading. You frowned, moving just slightly away from where you were buried in his chest.

“I’m sorry, James,” you said, a new kind of guilt taking over. “We can tell them, if you want, if it means that much to you.”

All at once you decided that you’d do a lot more for him than you had thought. It almost frightened you how much you’d give for him, though you realized it was most certainly the same on his end, maybe even worse if you were to believe Marlene. Still, you wanted to hold whatever you had with him out longer, keep it hidden in all its magnificence just until it felt a bit more real. Even if he was right, if Lily already knew and it would all turn out okay, your love seemed safe in its privacy, as if anything outside of it had no effect. In your distorted, love-stricken vision, right now no one was real except for you and him.

“It’s not that,” he said, again growing unsteady, nervous as he held you. “It’s just— you’re my girl, right?”

You stopped your effervescence from flowing out in the form of a celebratory laugh, choosing instead to grin, reaching your hand up to brush his temple with the back of your fingers. You twirled one of his dark curls, soft to the touch. “I’ve always been your girl.”

-✧₊∘₊✧──────✧₊∘₊✧──────✧₊∘₊✧-

Sunday had been filled with a never ending anxiety over your friends noticing a difference in either you or James, though neither of you had yet to give it away within twenty-four hours. Over breakfast on Monday, a few comments were made about the way James seemed to buzz in his seat even more so than usual, though he was able to brush them off with a joke, punctuated by a single, charming smile. Unlike James, your newfound avidity for the existence in a star-fated love had kept you up all night long, leaving your Monday self to pay the price in the form of half-lidded eyes and the desire to skive off.

You left the library for History of Magic, daydreaming about the way James had looked at you when you parted ways in the Entrance Hall as you turned down the window lined corridor above the courtyard. Your sweet imaginings, laced with the knowledge that you’d see him again in just over an hour, were cut short when you heard the sound of your name being called out behind you. The voice was distinctly girlish, somehow breathy even as it strained against the sound of the students in the corridor. You turned around, seeing Sybill zigzagging through the crowd, frantically waving a hand. You stopped, growing a bit embarrassed as she reached you, her heavy bag whipping forward.

“Your aura!” she said, her eyes wide. “It had improved before, but now— did you take the Animaura Draught?”

You cringed at her volume, hoping that no one had been listening very closely. It didn’t seem so, though that didn’t stop you from speaking just loud enough for her to hear, “No, I went the natural route.”

She didn’t seem to catch our sarcasm, her mouth parting as she continued to look you over in amazement. “It’s a most vibrant shade of cerise, maybe a bit of rose around the edges…have you had a transcendental experience recently?”

You shook your head, taken aback by her question. What would count as transcendental, anyway?

“Not that I can recall,” you answered.

She hummed, pursing her lips, her hands wringing around the strap of her bag. “How interesting. Has Professor Quattlebaum mentioned it to you at all?”

“No,” you said, pulling up the sleeve of your robe to check your watch. It was nearly eleven forty-five, meaning the bell tower would soon ring in the start of third period. “I have to go, Sybill, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, yes, I have Transfiguration,” she sighed, almost sadly. “Perhaps I will see you later.”

You stared at her, mildly perplexed as she walked past you. She only got a few paces away before you called out to her, more confused than ever, “Wait! How do you know my name?”

She stopped, spinning around with the countenance of a mildly intrigued rabbit. “Oh, did you not tell it to me?” she asked, her voice far off.

You slowly shook your head, her curiosity obviously diminishing.

“What a funny thing, though I do have a way with names,” she said, continuing again down the corridor. You let her go, watching as her hair bounced behind her like a flaxen cotton ball.

“Don’t be a dick,” Dorcas huffed, trying to snatch the Prophet from Sirius, who was having far too much fun evading her attempts.

He pulled it away one more time before allowing her to take it, cackling as she ripped it from his hands. She flipped through the pages, groaning when she saw the quidditch scores.

“Tutshill is such shite this season,” she said, throwing the paper back down into Sirius’s lap.

It was late, the common room quiet and rather empty. You were fighting off the urge to go to sleep despite spending the day pining for your bed. You simply couldn’t bring yourself to leave, as if James wouldn’t be there in the morning. You hadn’t been alone with him since Sunday, his quidditch practice leaving you both unable to excuse yourself to the RoR after classes.

You tried not to look lovestruck as you watched him, perched on the arm of the sofa as he and Dorcas began debating the likelihood of the Wimborne Wasps making it to the quidditch world cup. Soon, Sirius was chiming in with his own predictions, talking up Puddlemere in the process. Within a matter of minutes the conversation had derailed into Sirius’s passionate retelling of the 1974 League Cup final, in which Puddlemere beat Ballycastle against incredible odds.

Dorcas and James were rapidly losing interest, Dorcas rolling her eyes as Sirius went on about the final play. Your gaze met James’s, a fleeting expression of infatuation crossing his face before he turned away again, ready to pick on Sirius to save himself from suspicion.

“That was four years ago,” he said, waving a dismissive hand in his direction. “After they got Fanthorne it was the beginning of the end. Puddlemere oughta to fire him, he’s the worst coach in the league.”

Peter nodded, moving to speak before Sirius shot him a look of warning. He threw up a hand, burying himself back into his chair.

“It’s just an off season,” said Sirius, turning back to James. “They shouldn’t have resigned Turner s’all.”

“You like Fanthorne?” Dorcas drawled, side-eying him.

Sirius sunk down into the sofa, shrugging her off. “Yeah, I think he’s pretty good.”

Dorcas snorted, “You’re in denial. He’s fucking awful.”

“Always has to be quidditch, doesn’t it?” you teased, your cheeks warming at James’s laugh. Ever since Saturday night, every smile he gave you, every laugh meant something greater. You knew you shouldn’t read into every little word, every shift in his expression, though it felt impossible not to. I made him laugh, and he loves me, you’d think, each time without fail. It only made it worse with the knowledge that he thought the same.

“You’re telling me,” Remus muttered.

“They can’t help themselves,” said Lily, looking up from her spot on the carpet where she was playing a game of wizards chess with Marlene. “It’s in their nature.”

“There isn’t anything natural about liking Tutshill,” Sirius said, proud of his own cleverness.

It was getting harder and harder to keep your eyes open, even if James was in front of you. You yawned, curling up more into your armchair, your head resting in your palm.

Marlene twisted around, laughing at your state. “Go to bed,” she said, moving to shove your knee. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Thanks, Marls,” you droned as you sat up, finally willing to give in to necessity.

She only rolled her eyes, turning back around.

You grabbed your bag lying on the floor, heaving it over your shoulder before saying goodnight, your gaze lingering on James a moment longer than the rest. He smiled softly, biting his lip to stop himself from breaking out into a grin.

“Goodnight, sweet prince,” Lily called as you went towards the stairs, her voice like wind chimes.

You laughed, though it tasted sour on your tongue.

When you got back to your dormitory you began unpacking your books, replacing them with those you’d need for tomorrow. As you placed your Transfiguration notes onto your desk, a slip of parchment fell out, dancing like a feather to the floor. You picked it up and unfolded it, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you saw the handwriting, nearly illegible.

Meet me by the vegetable patch tomorrow after fourth period.

Yours, James

-✧₊∘₊✧──────✧₊∘₊✧──────✧₊∘₊✧-

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