#I'm not sure if anyone has asked this question before sorry if it's already been discussed!

[winterzsurprise]

Change My Mind [4]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 7.1k

[1] [2] [3] [4]

nothing much to say this time but this is not beta read, my friend who was supposed to read it is unfortunately unavailable, idk if the argument makes sense in the end cause I personally run from confrontations so idk how to write good arguments so yeah.

This is a bit shorter than the previous chapters but the next one is longer again since-- GUNSHOT

ANYWAYS, Happy reading!!

Also I hope I got the taglist right, please if you don't want to be in it, do tell me. If anyone else wants to be added to the taglist, please comment down below.

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud

___________

In all of your years working for Bangtan, as one of their staff and the youngest stylist, you've been included in every life events and celebrations there is. Birthdays, first wins, comebacks, everything there is even something as important as family dinners. You've never skipped or forgot a single member's birthday, period.

But as Guwon stands before you, a plane ticket to Jeju in hand with the departure scheduled tomorrow and returning just a day short before the tour, you find yourself at a crossroad. It’s Jungkook's birthday tomorrow and Jimin has planned a small party tonight at their dorms before the formal celebration at the company the next day.

While you've been trying to rectify the awkward air between you and the maknae since his confession by starting conversations, the maknae only replied to you with silence before promptly vanishing in two seconds flat.

But despite the strain in your relationship, you could never think of not attending his birthday. You'd never thought to be petty enough to return his energy. His present was already wrapped in a pretty bow under your bed for a week now for Christ's sake!

“I-I can't… It's one of their birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Oh.” His smile falls. “Can't you just give your gift today? Surely they can party for one night without you.”

It was a genuine question, logical and true but for some reason, his tone raised concerns within you. You swear to the highest heavens you could hear a bit of irritation hidden beneath dejection.

You winced. “I can't, I'm really sorry… I-I can pay you back what you've spent for the trip. I'm really sorry, I just never missed any of their birthdays. I swear I'll make it up to you next time!”

Guwon's shine dulled the further you went on and your heart twinged with guilt. In another universe where some humans gained animalistic features, he'd have dog ears pressed to his skull, staring at you with wide and glistening eyes.

You waved off the image immediately, disturbed.

“It's also my fault for not asking for your schedule. The tour is next week and then you'd be away from me for months so I kind of… panicked. I'm sorry.”

He should've known better than not to do research on your bosses , a voice at the back of your head scoffed and you waved the thought away as you put a hand over his. 

“I should've notified you as well. Tell me if those are refundable or not, I'll pay you back.”

He waves you off. “Cute but I've been raised well to know not to ask a lady to pay for my mistake, so don't worry that pretty head of yours about not being able to go.”

The date continued and thankfully, no dead air remained and conversation eased out of the both of you. Guwon sorted out his reservations early on, he'd stopped eating every once in a while to pick up his phone to either receive a call or respond to an email.

With how often he answered the chimes of his phone and how long it took for him to finally put it down, you figured he must've prepared a lot for the week and it made you feel more guilty every time he did it.

Today, he brought you both to an indoor park he rented for an hour for a picnic. It was on the outskirts of Seoul and he also cooked most of the food placed between you both, his mother however, was responsible for the side dishes.

Speaking of mothers, yours called earlier to congratulate you on whatever it was she was adamant on keeping secret but you already knew what it was and you were glad Jungkook’s mother gave birth on such a perfect day almost 21 years ago.

Guwon was planning to propose to you during the trip.

It left a bitter taste in your tongue. Sure you had expected to be married to him at some point but you barely knew the man outside of his colorful stories, and knew none of his actual behavior in his home. You haven't even visited his house yet for a vibe check so why is he rushing too fast?

Despite the guilt in your heart, relief is more palpable knowing you'd have more time to figure out if you truly want Guwon in your life.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you took a glance at it.

[17:29] Jinnie: I'll pick you up at your apartment by 6.

[17:29] Jinnie: please be prepared😊

Seeing the t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ friendly smile attached at the end of his message, you're suddenly reminded of the present. You hadn't told any of them of your date today, something that had drawn out longer than you thought it would. You frowned, fingers drumming on the side of your phone as you pondered on what to reply.

You had promised to help with the food yet here you are, out of town and on a picnic date inside a garden observatory.

“Who is it?” Guwon asks, seeing the frown on your face. Your mind immediately picks up the odd tone he has.

“Their oldest, Jin. We're supposed to cook together before the rest comes home.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought the birthday was tomorrow?”

“Oh, we're planning a small party before it, just his closest friends.”

Guwon nodded, eyes distant and thoughtful as he took a bite of his sandwich before continuing. “What time are you expected?”

“Their eldest said he'll pick me up at six.”

He looked at his watch and frowned deeper. “It's already 5:30. Maybe I can drive you to their dorm instead?”

You immediately shook your head. Remembering the promise you had with Jin and Jungkook. The maknae had recently begun to look at your direction again yesterday after Hoseok had talked to him, inviting Guwon would ruin the smallest progress you’ve had. 

Not to mention, you can't reveal their dorm location even if he is to be your husband. Company rules and you've signed an NDA.

“Company rules, can't reveal their location.”

“If we're going to be a couple soon, I'm going to need to know more about these guys you're hanging around. I don't trust them.” He says as he turns to the picnic basket to take another sandwich out, unable to see the twitch in your eye. 

“Well, you have to learn how to, they’re my bosses and my best friends.”

“I’m having a hard time believing that. I mean,” He scoffed. “Did you notice how they look at me whenever I’m around? That rapper—Yun–Yoonmi stared at me like I’m an insect he stepped on.”

Anger boils deep within your soul and you’re sure it's visibly contorting your face at this point but the man didn’t notice it and continued chewing on his food.

“Besides, their location is pretty well known already, no? Just a couple searches away, why be so secretive about it?”

You refrain yourself from frowning and it takes all of the energy within you to not react as wildly as you would’ve. It was amazing how the illusion of something good could shatter with only a few words and you set down the sandwich in your hand.

There's something terribly humbling upon realization that the man you're talking to is indeed, a man.

Noticing the shift in the air, he set down his cup of coffee with a slight raise to his brows.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It's true though, I just think it's pointless to try to hide it when some people already know, so what's the use of trying to hide their dorm?”

Where's Jimin and Taehyung at times like this?

You dreaded the conversation you're about to bring up to your mother once she calls, and could hear her scolding you for having such high standards. Guwon being indifferent to the possibility of being stalked, and your boys’ privacy being breached immediately raise red glaring flags over his head.

A lawyer himself who shrugged at the threat of crimes, the joke just writes itself.

“Don't look at me like that, I'm just… trying to understand why you didn't want me to interact with them after our second date. It makes a man overthink, know?”

Whatever thread you were holding onto, a sliver of hope that you might've misheard or misunderstood him, decayed within you and you picked up your phone to stuff into your bag.

You had hoped, wished, that after your deep talk on the night Seokjin had scolded your ass to the nines he'd understand your dynamic better with the boys or at least try. You could already hear Yoongi's drawl out ‘I told you so’ as you packed up, even imagine him bringing up Namjoon’s statistical analysis and how I should've listened to it.

“If you're implying what I think you are implying then I don't think we should meet each other anymore.”

Tossing the food back into the basket carelessly, you slung your bag over your shoulder and stand, only for his hand to shoot out to grab your wrist in an iron grip.

“Wait, I-I'm sorry! I just got… jealous, that's all.”

Even with the apologetic look displayed clearly on his face and the fear swimming with them, nothing could bring back to life the trust you had on the man and you pushed his hand away.

“I can't stay with someone who can't understand why those boys are important to me, sorry Guwon but we're over. Don't you ever contact me again.”

“You can't possibly be breaking up with me because I said what I felt? Over them? Really?!”

You don't even recognize the man sitting opposite you.

He knew, he saw how close you are with them and even sat through the stories you told him during your dates. Guwon knew you cherished every single boy in the group yet he disregarded it all because of jealousy? If that isn't a warning, then you might be blind.

“It's like I never even knew you at all.”

He scoffed. “Same with you. Can't believe I actually believed your words telling me you were friends but I saw how those boys treated you!”

Sure your relationship with your bosses is unusual but it was built from hardship and loneliness from being taken away from home and surrendering their time for a glimpse of fame in a field where they're at a huge disadvantage. It was special in ways not many could fathom because in their head, what reason would there be for a man to befriend a girl other than having the intention to fuck them?

It was the mindset of the old and “ wise” and it had infuriated you to the nines.

For him to reveal himself as one of those old cogs when he expressed himself as a gentleman and be convinced by his act of kindness, even the word disappointing could express how greatly upset you are.

“Bet you've slept with all of them at least once, hell, I don't even know why your mother bothered when you're already busy whoring yourself for seven men.”

Anger flooded your veins, it was hot and rampaging under your skin. Before your mind could even register your actions, your hand had already moved, making contact with his cheek in one swift motion. The slap echoed like a clap of thunder in the silence of the observatory.

Even after seeing the angry red mark beginning to mar his skin, your anger remained.

“Goodbye Guwon, I hope we never see each other again.”

Walking away was easier said than done.

You got picked up by Guwon earlier and since you've run far enough from the indoor garden, away from your supposed ticket back home, you're now waiting for an uber at a small library sequestered between towering and loudly designed buildings. You had half a mind to ask your friends that lived nearby for a ride but decided against it.

They might be busy with their own family. 

Unlike you.

As you sit there waiting for your ride to come, your mind takes you to your mother and her genuine glee at the thought of you getting married. Ever since your second date, she had been sending you photographs of weddings for inspirations, links to event places and tailors, and flower shops where you could have your bouquet arranged. She was beyond ecstatic, if she heard what had happened, she would be devastated. 

A loud, exasperated sigh left your lips, the volume catching the attention of the bookkeeper who was quick to shush you.

As you waited longer with only the deafening silence of the library to accompany you, doubt began to form at the back of your head. 

Was breaking up with Guwon really the right choice? 

An angry, louder voice screamed at you for doubling down on your decision. You knew your boys longer than you knew him, if the trip had gone through, Guwon would've proposed to you despite the short time you've known each other. Something you didn't want. Not to mention, he would've gone through the idea while contemplating on your loyalty.

So yes, it was the right decision!

But you were to be married .

Your mother was so happy to have finally matched you with a guy you attended three dates with. The thought made your heart clench, she was excited to see you on the altar and has most likely spread it around your town with pride. She was about to have three married children.

Gods, you don't want to imagine the conversation later on, she'd be distraught.

Your phone buzzed and you dreaded looking at the screen to see your mother's name. Luckily, it was Jin instead.

           [18:01] Jinnie: where are you?

           [18:01] Jinnie: knocked on your door but the neighbor said you were out.

           [18:02] Jinnie: you're late😒

           [18:02] Jinnie: I'm going to have them deduct your pay this month for making me wait

           [18:03] You: I'm sorry your highness for disappointing you, please forgive this servant of yours🤧

           [18:03] You: was on a date

           [18:03] You: not that it matters anymore, I broke up with Guwon

           [18:04] You: does it even count? I mean, we weren't official, he didn't ask me to be his girlfriend yet.

You paused, face souring as you realized what you've just typed. 

Guwon hadn't asked for your hand officially even after three dates, he had the chance on your second date during the stroll but he didn't. Despite this, he went and asked your parents for their blessings when he hadn't even asked you first.

           [18:04] You: wow I just remembered that

           [18:04] You: then he had the audacity to propose to me!

There's a pause in between his usually instant replies and you had an inkling he's already spreading the gossip around the group somehow.

           [18:08] Jinnie: wow there's a LOT to unpack there

           [18:08] Jinnie: but worry not

           [18:08] Jinnie: I'll have Jimin get us the strongest drink there is for later

           [18:09] Jinnie: we'll drink that sorrow away and you're going to tell me what the hell you meant by proposing while not being official 

           [18:10] You: I don't think I should tell you that…

           [18:10] You: considering… ya know

           [18:11] You: also don't you guys have an early schedule tomorrow?🤨

           [18:12] Jinnie: bold of u to assume I don't want hear how massive of a failure he is

           [18:12] Jinnie: nothing better than hearing your enemy’s downfall😌

           [18:13] Jinnie: also what do you mean ‘you guys’??? 

           [18:13] Jinnie: you're literally our make-up artist!

You scoffed at the message but before you could type up a reply, the notification from your uber app popped out to inform you about your driver now waiting outside the library and you walked out.

           [18:23] You: and just because I'm your make-up artist, doesn't mean I should let you all get away with this

           [18:23] You: and I won't even drink much :pp

           [18:24] Jinnie : if I ever see you stumbling around the house, you owe me 100000

           [18:25] You: WOW

           [18:25] You: AREN'T YOU RICH ALREADY????

           [18:25] Jinnie: money is money😌

           [18:26] Jinnie: just get ur ass over here already before I add more zeros to the bet

The smell of Jin’s cooking, both spicy and something savory, welcomed you first before the sound of sizzles did. At the sound of the door closing, Jin appears round the corner with an apron hung from his neck and a tong stained with red bean paste in the other.

Despite the disappointed look he's going for, reminiscent of a mother who caught her daughter coming home past curfew, the relief you feel upon seeing his handsome face after earlier was palpable and the knots in your stomach loosened.

“I should have your pay deducted for showing up late.”

You winced. “Sorry boss, can I appeal for a heartbreak discount on that?”

“Only if you give me a hug and cry on my shoulder.” 

He opened his arms wide, plush lips widening into a smile when you approached to wrap your arms around his torso. The fabric of his sweatshirt was soft and the scent of new laundry overtook his usual scent of freshly baked cakes and gentle vanilla perfume, it almost made you boneless in his hold. Moreso when he started stroking your head while the other ran up and down your back with his palm, fingers still wrapped around the tongs.

He didn't pull away despite the awkward position with him bending down and practically melting against your smaller form. In your years of being friends, you could never recall Seokjin being the first to pull away from a hug and once more, you're grateful for that.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I’ll do it while cooking, we might burn whatever you're cooking if I told you all about it here.”

He shook his head, his rubbing motions on your back turning into gentle pats. “We can just order it online if it does, I even bet that they'll still eat it even if it was. Hoba was relentless today.”

His nails raked through your scalp and you resisted the urge to shiver. 

“He was being an ass towards you guys. Then when I defended you all, he accused me of sleeping around.”

His first instinct was to curse the man down to his ancestors who bred with each other until he was born, but stopped himself when he realized what he's about to say and cleared his throat.

If his arms coiled tighter around you, you only leaned into him further.

“Normally I would say "I told you so" but I know Yoongi has it covered later. So I'll just say—"

"Don't you dare. Jin don’t you dare finish that sentence."

"I knew it."

He let out a cry when your hand slapped his arm but it quickly dissolved into a fit of squeaky laughter and he pushed your head back under his chin before you could even continue hitting him. Hand continuing their petting as you let out an annoyed groan.

“My mom was so excited! God. I hate that bastard for disappointing me and her. She was sending me links to wedding planners and dressmakers because apparently he was supposed to take me to Jeju tomorrow and propose.”

He stills in your arms, the hand in your hair stopping its motion as his breath hitched in his chest. It took him a moment before he recollected himself and continued to pat your head, pressing a kiss on top of your crown.

“I'm sure auntie will understand, I know that she would've wanted you to find a good man like she and your sister did.”

A voice at the back of your head told you he was referring to himself but you threw the thought away as soon as it went.

“Personally, I would've taken the ticket and ditch him.” He laughed and you hit his arm with a barely concealed grin. “All I'm saying is that free things should be used and if it's gifted then better! You get to decide how to use it so refund it!”

“I don't think it's that easy.”

“Just say Kim Seokjin of BTS asked for a refund and they'll immediately accept it.”

Pulling away, you playfully rolled your eyes at him, earning you one last laugh as you walked to the kitchen where the sizzles of the food being fried on the pan had long been muted. Jin followed you with an onslaught of words spilling from his lips, justifying and detailing how he would've done in your place as you placed your bag down on the island counter before reaching for the spare apron.

Hearing his rants filling the silence made it easier to relax, made forgetting how upset you were at Guwon a walk in the park.

It was familiar and his voice, despite his fiery indignation, was oddly comforting.

Soon enough, your conversation halts and you both position yourself over the counter, following his orders mindlessly; which is mostly dicing the vegetables and the slabs of meat he marinated last night in soy sauce and spices. 

You found the repetitive motions of chopping soothing and silently thanked the man now hovering over the saucepan, gently stirring the seaweed soup. 

As if sensing your eyes boring holes on the back of his head, his ears reddened and he looked over his shoulder to meet your gaze.

“W-what is it? Wh-why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just admiring how huge your shoulders are and how reliable you are.” 

You recalled how dearly he cared for his group despite the exhaustion from practicing singing and dancing the whole day. Despite being the youngest in his family, Jin took on the mantle of the oldest brother in the group easily and selflessly provided for his members alongside Yoongi and Namjoon. If it were anybody, you were sure the boys would've been sick or had long given up, especially when the company was about to file bankruptcy in their earlier years.

From the bone shattering dances, exhausting practices and routines stretching from dawn till dusk, you were thankful Seokjin was there to catch the others when they fall.

It was a hard task nobody would've assumed since selfishness is a built-in trait of a human yet Seokjin proved you wrong when he stayed up every night despite the muscle cramps and exhaustion weighing his bones to cook for his members, taking the role of the eldest like it was a second nature despite being the youngest in his family.

He barked out a half-hearted laugh as his red ears brightened from the compliment. “I already know that of course!”

“Thank you for everything, Jin.”

His face crumpled when he laughed bashfully, the bright hue in his ears crawling to dusk his cheeks as well. It didn't take long before he recovered and like clockwork, in reaction to being flustered by compliments, he got defensive and raised the saucer threateningly at you.

“Ya! If you're planning to compliment me, at least be original! I'm done hearing about how wide my shoulders are from ARMY and how reliant I am from the others! We've been together for years, do better and be original with your compliments!”

It was a joke, obviously.

But staring at the older man childishly brandishing his cooking utensil like a bludgeoning weapon, you couldn't help but ponder about what truly pulled you into him only to realize that you've never truly dove deeper than surface level details. It was disappointing to find out how shallow you've been when expressing your appreciation for the man.

Like he said, you've always pointed out how reliable he is but never have you pointed out the small things such as the warm food he claimed have been extras and the hot soups sectioned off for you on cold days.

He was the first to approach you on the first day despite being the member who mostly kept to himself, asking you if you wanted to celebrate their Rookie of the Year win with them instead of the rowdy staff behind you. 

The first one to build a bridge leading to this deep companionship you had with the rest of the members, have you really never thanked him for that?

“You're so caring and humble despite your background and where you are right now. If it was anybody else, they would've left the boys to fend for themselves once they were able to yet you didn't stop cooking for them, for us. I don't think I have ever met a man so down to earth and as loving as you are,” You paused. “Well, except Jimin but if you want something more original I'd say I love your hands even when you think they're weird because they—”

You didn't even realize Jin crossed the distance between you both until his hands clasped around your lips, silencing you completely.

Unlike earlier with only his ears blushing, his cheeks now glowed red, the flushed skin spreading down to his neck, continuing past the collar of his dark blue pajamas. When your eyes meet, you find his glistening with unshed tears no doubt touched by your hastily put together declaration of your appreciation for him. 

When it was clear you wouldn't continue your rant, his arms fell to your shoulders and pulled you into a tight embrace. 

His violent heartbeats thudding against his chest was the first thing you've heard before you registered the stuttered exhales and his gentle saccharine scent filling your senses, clouding your brain completely. For a moment, it was just you and him in the kitchen, hugging a little longer than friends should be.

But then again, since when have you guys ever drawn the line on how platonic touches should last?

“God… You gotta stop doing that.”

“I'm just following what you told me like a good dongsaeng and I think I did exceedingly well on it. Does that guarantee a deduction on my pay deduction?”

There's an odd, invisible weight that lifted off of you, something you didn't even realize you were carrying. But there's also a tinge of guilt pinching the edges of your heart.

Jin was the first to approach you, and the first to confess four years ago. He was all shy looks and sweet smiles, his sweet words accompanied by a bouquet of flowers that must've cost him more than he could've gotten from being an idol of a new group. 

When Jin loves, he gives his all and doesn't think twice to give half of himself as well. In a way, he and Yoongi were alike, just with different approaches.

He was open and unapologetic while Yoongi was subtle and often silent.

His laugh twinkled in your ears but it dwindled later on, as if he remembered something towards the end of his mirth. “You're driving me crazy, how am I supposed to move on when you're this lovely?”

Hearing him confirm your suspicion about his crush—is it even called that at this point?—relieved you from an unknown anxiety most likely sparked by Jungkook's words a few nights ago. Why are you even relieved hearing him still liking you when all you've done is hurt him?

“You're such an idiot, you know that?”

“Love makes you do the stupidest thing but I don't think I've ever regretted ever falling for you.”

He pulls away, a gentler, softer smile now tugging his lips up.

“God, you made me sappy! My god, my soup!” 

Even without the warmth of his embrace, you could feel it radiate in the small space of the kitchen. You continued your work as Jin fuzzed about the seaweed soup behind you, bathing in the domesticity of it all.

Your phone vibrates loudly in your bag on the island counter. Wiping your hand on your apron, you opened it to see Jimin’s messages.

           [18:56] Mimi: seokjin hyung told me to buy the strongest alcohol 

           [18:57] Mimi: any idea why he’s being weird?

           [18:57] You: I’ll tell jin that you called him weird

           [18:57] You: but yes

           [18:57] You: I’ll tell you all later why

           [18:58] Mimi: 🤨

           [18:58] Mimi: not if I get you drunk in the first ten minutes

           [18:58] You: I’d like to see you try, pretty boy

Your phone vibrated again. Namjoon had texted you, seeing the preview you rolled your eyes.

            [18:59] Joonie: Seokjin hyung didn’t say but I already figured it out

            [18:59] Joonie: You'd hear enough from Yoongi hyung later but

[18:58] Joonie: I told you so

[18:58] You: I hope you trip and fall on shit🥰

[18:59] Joonie: Love you too, noona😁

[18:59] You: blocked🚫

“I'm not seeing enough chopping, young lady. Get back to your station!” Jin jokingly scolds. With a laugh, you return to your spot.

By the time some of the boys arrived—except Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung, no doubt pre-gaming somewhere—it was already ten and some of the dishes were plated, ready to be eaten in the dining room. If it wasn't for both your and Jin's advanced thinking to ready the bowl of rice and their plates beforehand, they would have starved to death as Yoongi dramatically puts it before blaming Hoseok for draining them out the whole day.

The man in question just laughed in response before shrugging and rebuking their ‘accusations’, saying it wasn't even that hard. To this, Yoongi grumbled under his breath and Namjoon rolled his eyes.

A few minutes later, the maknaes entered, cheeks all flushed except for Jimin who was holding up a bag full of canned alcohol as if it was game from an all-day hunt.

You thanked Jimin silently for drinking the birthday boy tipsy enough to make the dinner energetic instead of the awkwardness you thought it'd be due to what happened a few days ago. There's fleeting eyes you've caught in between jokes he made, either pouring with adoration or longing, you tried to not to pay it much mind.

But of course, the alcohol pouring could only go for so long before you're all lounging in the living room to talk about anything that comes to mind. It was half an hour short from the clock tickling to twelve, signifying Jungkook's actual birthday.

The conversation started off tame with Taehyung questioning the animals who sleep standing to something more elaborate with Yoongi asking everyone's opinion about some decrypt conspiracy theory surrounding the rich of the west. It was all fun and games when Taehyung, lost in his own mind running with the most random thought, sluggishly pointed at you and asked:

“Wh-why aren't you checking your phone? G-Guwon hyung haven't been texting you yet?”

Many heads turned to you who was practically boneless in between a tipsy Hoseok and a still sober Yoongi. You didn't even need to look to know the look of concern Jin was throwing your way.

But everything was hazy, your head throbbing from the alcohol. The words slipped past your lips before you could think about it.

“We parted ways… He accused me of sleeping around when I said I didn't want to go on a trip with him tomorrow ‘cause I didn't want to skip Jungkookie's birthday.”

Hoseok patted your shoulder and Yoongi nodded, face indifferent as usual. Despite the reaction of the boys on both sides, not everyone in the circle held the same opinion it seems.

“You didn't have to decline it, noona. You-you’ve been with us for years, missing one wouldn't hurt me much.”

Jungkook's voice was softer as if he had sobered up from the revelation and you waved him away.

“What are you saying? I couldn't leave when we weren't alright.” You glimpsed at Jin before continuing. “Besides, he was planning to propose and I'm glad he couldn't anymore.”

In your drunken mind, the information didn't carry much weight but the pin drop silence following your words did, you guessed that it must've been. However, it didn't last long when Taehyung jumped up to his feet and punched the air as if Korea just scored the final score in FIFA.

The boys look at him with wide eyes, shocked by his reaction. Jimin recovers and tries to tug him down but a drunk Taehyung is determined, with a will stronger than a monk's resilience and patience, no one could stop him from doing what he wanted.

And that was bumping his glass on your forehead, a little harder than it should've been if he was sober and you reel back, a hand over your forehead.

“Noona! you're free again! Do you know what that means?!”

“Ok that's enough for you tonight. Let's get you to bed.” Jimin says, chuckling awkwardly as he stands behind his best friend, wrapping his arms around his waist before dragging him away.

“Why? Can't I just congratulate noona from recognizing something was off instead of ignoring it like most do? Noona,” He turned to you, bottom lip jutted out. “It's not bad that I'm celebrating right?”

Seokjin’s laugh was nervous when he rose to usher the man away as well. “Alright, lets all calm down so we don't accidentally say something while drunk.”

“Fuck yeah! I-I don’t even know why I even believed his lies, he’s a lawyer for fucks sake!”

“Not that it ever stopped you before. I still don't understand why you couldn't have married one of us instead.” Jungkook cuts in, suddenly irritated.

Somehow, the tension in the room grew tenfold and everyone sits up, alert and ready to interfere if their youngest decides to let the alcohol take control of him. Your brain clears once it registered the annoyance in his voice, heart dropping to the soles of your feet.

“Jungkook—”

“I just think it's a bullshit excuse and you know it. You told that to Jin-hyung four years ago and have repeated it ever since. We’re all adults now, we can handle a little rejection and who’s to say we can’t date when we’re the only idol running the company. You say it's because you don’t want to choose but aren’t you just instilling false hope in us?” 

He stood as he grew more agitated but Jin pushed him down, eyes stern as he stared down at their youngest. Seeing the conflict brew between them, the growing guilt built by years of spending time with them reawakened.

It tied your stomach in a knot and felt like a building had dropped onto your heart.

As if sensing your emotions, Yoongi’s hand found your shoulder to give it a squeeze.

“You’re not thinking straight so stop it,” Jin excuses as he turns to you with an apologetic smile. “He’s just drunk, he doesn’t—”

“I know what I’m saying and I think you’re being too biased here hyung!”

“Jungkook…” Hoseok calls from next to you, voice low, a warning.

“You too! She’s also your friend, why aren’t you pointing out how she’s just playing with us? Why are you only calling me out?”

“Because you’re being a stupid drunk right now, Jungkook. Stand down .” Yoongi ordered, voice firm and warning. His arms are crossed as he stared their youngest down but the maknae wasn’t intimidated by it, if anything, the fire in the older man’s eyes only fueled the anger boiling within him.

In years you’ve watched over them, never once has Yoongi scolded their youngest past Run BTS contents, leaving the reprimanding to their oldest and leader. For him to call him out and seeing them grow agitated by each other’s presence, dread loomed over you with your nightmares threatening to come true. 

This isn’t how tonight’s party was supposed to go.

“Isn’t there anyone who’d agree with me at how absurd all of this is?!” His head snapped at Namjoon who’s watching with a careful eye. “Hyung, surely you can also see it!”

Throughout the exchange, Namjoon had sat back and watched the interaction from the sidelines instead of interfering on the first hint of a fight breaking out. Even when the situation becomes a little aggressive, he stays silent but you don’t doubt that he’d be the first to stand if the disagreement becomes volatile and inching towards physical.

That's what he always has done, observed and let the high rise of emotions eventually tides down to a calm on their own. He's a leader, he's supposed to be fair and to do so, he must first understand both sides before taking action. He also trusts his own team to temper their own ire after years of being together.

But now that he's forced to join the argument, he sighed and stood. Seokjin stepped away as he approached their youngest with both hands placed on his shoulders to sit him back down. 

Obediently, Jungkook follows.

“While I do see where you’re coming from, I think it's a bit unfair that you’re blaming her for being scared.” Jungkook opens his mouth but a firm shake of Namjoon’s head shuts him up. “Don’t start again. There’s a power imbalance here kid. If her choosing someone could cause a problem, we’d get off scot free but not her. In the eyes of the company, she’s disposable—”

“But she’s not.”

“She is. In their eyes at least. By having her around causing problems for us, she’s nothing but a thorn in their side that they should remove. If she had dated one of us and eventually broke up, it would cause an awkwardness and riff between guys especially if it ended on a bad note and BigHit won't stand for it. You know how important this job is for her, right?”

They stared at each other for a long while, both unrelenting in silence. You all waited with bated breath, Namjoon was the only one who could diffuse the situation and if he fails, then who else could possibly calm the maknae down?

Turning to the clock, you bit your lip at the time.

It was nearing Jungkook's actual birthday, three minutes short before both hands ticked to twelve.

Which meant it would have to start during the denouement of an argument. The thought planting discomfort in your stomach. Such a happy celebration shouldn't be welcomed like this.

In the midst of raised voices and pointing fingers, Taehyung has completely sobered up from where he sat between Jimin’s thighs, staring beady eyed at the situation in his friend’s arms. Sensing your gaze, he turned to you with a sheepish, apologetic smile when Jungkook's heavy sigh broke through the silence.

His head fell to his chest as Namjoon removed his hands from his shoulders yet his eyes remained on their youngest’s hunched form.

“You get what we're trying to say now, do you?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Anything you want to say, gguk?” Namjoon was talking to him like he was a kindergarten teacher and you both were kids who fought on the sandbox for the shovel, warm and understanding but the disappointment in his tone is clear as day.

Jungkook doesn't reply but he shoots up to his feet, surprising Hoseok next to you, with eyes still trained on the floor.

When he did look up to meet your gaze, it was brief and cut off by a deep bow. You reached your hands out, trying to stop him from doing so but Yoongi took one of your hands and pinned them down between his and your thighs.

Jungkook never had to bow for you and it felt wrong seeing him bent down to apologize.

“I-I’m sorry noona, I—” He trails off.

In his speechlessness in a room full of people who—while understanding where he comes from—stood behind you, he clams up and then in a flash, he’s gone, bolting from the living room and skipping up the stairs. The sound of his heavy footfalls echoing like the clock ticking down to his birthday.

The argument has been dissolved, yet it left a bitter taste on your tongue, it made you feel queasy having everyone back you up without reprimanding you as well. It was true, what Jungkook said. 

Weren't you practically leading them on by not choosing anyone? No matter how unintentional it must be, if he thinks that way then maybe everyone else in the group does, just silently.

You turned to the clock again. A minute closer to the next day.

Frustration made you want to pull your hair out but the long, lithe fingers that have entangled with yours in the middle of it all, forbade you from doing so. As if he could hear the internal debate between logic and emotions, Yoongi gave you a comforting squeeze.

But it didn't feel right, you shouldn't be sitting on your ass while Jungkook blamed himself for expressing his own opinion, sure it was a bit aggressive but you understood his frustration.

“Jungkook!” You called out, rising to your feet to follow him when Yoongi tightened his hold on your wrist and shook his head.

“He needs time to process, leave him be.”

Yet despite this, you shrugged his hold off and followed the youngest’s heavy footfalls upstairs and presumably into his room. You caught onto him in the hallway, with the door to his room opened and half of his body already inside.

“Jungkook, let us talk.”

“I-I don't want to see you right now, noona please.”

The desperation to correct the wrongs gives you a short burst of energy and you catch his wrist.

“Jungkook please, I—”

You heard the joyful chime of the clock downstairs before you heard the sweet jingles of bells.

Then you felt it.

Electric jolts shoot up from your connected hands, waking every cell and your mind awake and you almost keel over from the wave of relieving warmth washing over your body. There’s now a low hum accompanying the bells chiming in the background, the soft harmony between them sending shivers down your spine. 

You've thought of first meetings like those scenes in Hollywood movies where a kaleidoscope of colors explodes behind your eyelids, like fireworks celebrating the precious moment where the protagonists finally meet and fireworks shoot up to the sky. They talked of a brief moment of reprieve from reality, the world slowing down and feeling the most calmed you've ever been with your soulmate in hand.

Like your soul finally recognizing its pair and suddenly, everyone became a blur in the background.

Yet when you stared back at Jungkook's mirrored astonishment, your stomach bottomed out.

Because no way in hell, after all this time, you're soulmates.

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 26-28

ISAT/Two Hats Spoilers below! CW: Outbursts, Mentions of stabbing/killing, unhealthy obsessing.

"So how you holding up Sif?" (You suddenly snap back to reality and look over to Isa, now left alone as the other three had left for the market.)

"What do you mean?" (You ask, confused by the sudden question.)

"You looked a little zoned out there, and getting to see Vale again, and Nille, it's just a lot right now, even if it's good stuff. So... Just wanted to check in with you!" (He gives his trademark bright smile, and you can't help but smile back.)

"It is a lot... but it's good, the family's back together again, even L-Vale now... I just... I really hope it works out this time."

"This time?" (CRAB!!)

"Y-You know! Like, having them around... I want them to fit in is all!" (A more serious look appears on his face. There's no way he bought that...)

"Sif... You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I do! I know! I... I'm sorry, but it involves them a lot too, and I can't talk about it without them." (Your voice falters a bit, the topic making you uncomfortable as you start to scratch absentmindedly at your arms. His large, gentle hand meet yours after a moment, trying to calm you down.)

"Hey, it's okay, I understand. I just worry, y'know? But if you're sure it's okay for now then I can wait!" (He smiles at you again. You place your head on his shoulder, closing your eye with a relieved sigh.)

"I love you Isa."

"I love you too Sif."

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

"Excuse me for a moment, I need to use the restroom~." (Vale explains before leaving the table and conversation. They seemed especially uneasy since Nille left to help Bonbon in the kitchen a few minutes ago, probably still struggling being around everyone else...)

"Siffrin, is there, uhm… Is Vale uncomfortable around us?" (Mira asks, it seems you weren't the only one to notice.)

"They're… just shy, you know? Not used to new people! That's all!" (You try to smile convincingly.)

"Right…" (Crab.)

"They just need some time to warm up is all!" (Isa to the rescue, as always. Thank the stars.)

"They were stuck in the loops too afterall! Sif was the only one they really interacted with, right?"

"No wonder they're so on edge." (Odile chimes in with a little tease, not even looking up from her book.)

"H-Hey!?" (Mira and Isa can't help but snort and snicker at your expense. It WAS a pretty good joke you guess…)

"Though we should discuss what our next course of action is, now that Nille has found us. I assume we'll still head to Bambouche for their sakes, then continue our little reunion tour? I imagine you'd like to return to Jouvente at some point Isabeau?" (Odile begins to plan aloud to get us all on the same page.)

"Eventually, sure, I'm in no rush! But what about you, M'dame? Don't you want to go back to Ka Bue too?" (Odile pauses for a moment, glancing over at you. You must have been making some kind of face considering how she raises a brow at you.)

"I believe our little time traveler here already knows the answer to that question." (You look away nervously.)

"It's uhh... complicated? I don't think Odile cares about returning anytime soon." (You try to keep it vague, to which she nods. Her eyes casually return to her book before she speaks up again.)

"Very astute of you, Siffrin. If I do happen to return, it will likely be out of obligation more than anything else. I believe we have more pressing matters to attend to, like the fact you're still looping."

"I wouldn't exactly call that pressing..."

"Th-This isn't something you should just put off Siffrin! What if it just keeps getting out on the back burner and suddenly you're right back where you started again?!" (Mira chimes in in a panic.)

"I'm not saying we just ignore it forever! Just... we have some time at least, and Odile stopped me from looping once already! If anyone's gonna know what to do, it'll be her, right?"

"I stopped it in the moment, preventing you from looping ever again is a whole ordeal in and of itself. It will take a lot of research on a subject that no one knows anything about, and another that is purely theoretical. I may be good at what I do but I'm not a miracle worker."

"You might not think so." (You chuckle a bit. No matter how many times it happens, she still managed to surprise you over the years with new breakthroughs and theories on craft, sadnesses, and otherwise. She smirks a bit as her eyes remain on her book.)

"While your confidence in my is flattering, I'd still like to tackle this subject sooner rather than later."

"Alright, we'll get to Bambouche and go from there, okay? For now I'm just glad we're all together again..." (Your expression falls to a bittersweet one. You feel Isa's hand on your shoulder, giving a light squeeze and smiling brightly at you. You lay your head against his side and close your eye, savoring the embrace.)

"Dinner'll be ready in a few!... Hey, where'd Vale go?" (Nille asks, stepping back in from the kitchen.)

"Oh! They went to the restroom! B-But it's been a while, hasn't it? should someone check on them?"

"I better do it, y'all sit tight!" (Nille quickly takes the offer to ensure no one else would, heading off to find them.)

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

"Before I explain this, it's not their fault, please don't blame them, they were going through a lot and I didn't notice how it was affecting them and I told their secret an-" (You start to explain at a million miles a minute, too frantic to be processed properly even as Nille lightly grabs your shoulders to snap you out of it.)

"Hey, easy, just start at the beginning okay?" (She tries to comfort you, to which you nod and take a deep breath.)

"... When I first looped back all those years, I was... frozen? I was panicking, stuck in my head, I thought it must be a dream or something, there's no way this was really happening, right?... And then I heard their voice... and all of that just went away." (You glance over at Vale. They look... confused? Shocked maybe? You guess you never got the chance to tell them this part.)

"I ran to find them right after, as fast as I could, and... I was just so happy to see them, I didn't think about how they were feeling... forced to be back, I'd been through so much and they were just left behind... and then I dragged them along back here to force them into a family they didn't want any part in."

"Stardust... That's..."

"It's true Vale, and I'm sorry. I really don't blame you for what happened." (Vale just looks away, clearly not agreeing, but they can tell they won't change your mind. Nille still looks very confused, waiting for the story to continue.)

"So things seemed fine for a little while, but then Odile noticed I was doing a little too well, and I told her about everything... including their secret, which they made me promise not to tell." (You really were hamming up how awful you had been, even if you didn't realize it. It was your fault after all, Vale can't be punished for that.)

"Vale found out what I did, they were already on the verge of snapping and that pushed them over the edge, so... they had to go back, before I dragged them to the party... They had to make us all loop back..." (Nille takes a second to process all of this, before her eyes widen, realizing what you were implying.)

"Frin, tell me what happened, please." (She asks, her eyes looking almost desperate, as if asking you to assure her it's not what she thinks.)

"Vale... They..."

"I STABBED HIM! I SHOVED HIS OWN DAGGER INTO HIS HEART AND FORCED HIM BACK, OKAY?! I'M A MONSTER AND A MURDERER!!!" (You jump back as they suddenly start screaming out. You look back to the door, thankful no one else was there at the moment. Nille pulls herself away from their outburst. Looking scared, confused, conflicted.)

"N-No! You're not Vale, you knew I'd be fine! You knew I'd loop!"

"And what if you didn't?!?! What if it all ended right there?!? How could I do such a thing?! How could I take that risk?! How could I hurt you like that?!" (Their eyes were wide and crazed, they gripped their hair painfully tight. They looked ready to snap again. Before you could try to comfort them, Nille was already holding their face to try and snap their out of it.)

"Hey hey hey! Vale, Calm down please." (They stopped suddenly, tears flowing from their eyes and staring back at Nille, surprised they weren't being treated like the monster they thought they were.)

"You made a mistake... a big one, sure, but a mistake none the less. Frin's okay now, right?"

"B-But... I killed them... H-how could anyone forgive me for that?..."

"Well, Frin did, and that's the most important person to do so I'd say... It's a lot to take in alright, still not really sure how I feel about it right now... but I'm not just gonna hate you for it, especially after everything." (Vale stares up at her, they look confused, their eyes darting about as they try to piece something together.)

"I doubt you want to go back in there tonight. Maybe you should stay at the Inn for tonight, cool off a little..."

"Y-Yes... that sounds like it's for the best..." (Before Vale can get too far, Nille lightly grabs their arm to keep them from going too far.)

"This doesn't give you permission to run away though! Remember... you made a promise." (She smiles softly then lets go.)

"... Right... I promise." (Vale can't hold eye contact with either of you for more than a second, slowly starting to walk off again.)

"We'll see you tomorrow, Vale?..." (You plead. They nod back at you before fully turning away. The both of you watch as they slowly vanish from view towards the town center.)

"... Hey, Frin? Are you sure you're okay?" (Nille starts to speak again, now that Vale was safely out of earshot.)

"... It's not that bad, I promise."

"But they killed you Frin... I know they've got issues but... I didn't think they'd be capable of doing that." (Nille holds her arms, gripping them a bit too tightly.)

"They're not! They knew I'd be okay! I'm still looping, it's fine! They would never have done it if they knew it wouldn't happen, like when-" (You cut yourself off, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth.)

"... When what?"

"... After the loops 'ended' the first time, I went to find them... That's when they admitted who they were, and they kinda... snapped. They attacked me, they were ranting and raving, they spent all that time just watching me do it and have an easier time than they ever did, everything they went through and my loops were practically a walk in the park in comparison... But when they had me beaten they couldn't do it! They wouldn't! They're not capable of that I swear!!!" (You do your best to convince her... and possibly yourself in the process. You still blame yourself for what happened, you just don't want Vale to suffer for it.)

"Frin... I'm not saying we should just send them on their merry way or anything but... they still attacked you, they still stabbed you... I don't know if you should just act like that's fine and forget it ever happened..."

"Nille... I've had a very long time to think about this. I've missed them for decades, and now they're finally back... I'm not going to do anything to mess that up, so please don't do so either." (You don't realize it until it's already happened, your face turning to a colder, darker expression. It felt vaguely familiar, likely similar to how you looked in those later loops... Nille looks a bit unnerved by it.)

"Siffrin, that's not healthy! Don't you think you're being a bit obsessive about thi-"

"I don't care!" (Nille jolts in shock, stepping back at your outburst. You stop before you lose it too much, taking a deep breath to compose yourself.)

"I just want them back... I just want them to be happy... I had 30 years of a wonderful life with all of you while they got nothing... Isn't that unfair? Isn't that a tragedy? They go through all the pain and suffering and I just come in and replace them?!"

"Frin! That's no-"

"NO! They're the only reason I'm here! They're the only reason I got to be happy for all this time! So don't you dare get in the way of me making it up to them!" (You snap. Nille stares down at you in a mix of shock and nerves. She looks over you a bit, as if trying to work out the best way to deal with this situation. You sigh and take a step back, making yourself smaller as you duck into your cloak a little.)

"I'm sorry... but please, don't... don't ruin this for me... I need this. I need them... Good night Nille." (You excuse yourself before you say anything else you may regret. You head back inside, ignoring anything she or anyone else may be saying to you as you pass. You reach your room and settle in for bed, not wanting to deal with this day any longer.)

[static-martini]

If you have an explanation for your preference, I'd love to hear it! Either in tags or reblogs <3

[grison-in-space]

Has Biden actually done anything at all? There's evidence going around and I think it's compelling, the alternate to voting is instead doing actual social work and participating in protests and organizing political action, which is a good idea i think

1) Yes. Inarguably this has been the most effective progressive domestic administration since I have been alive, and I'm in my thirties. What in the fuck are you talking about? It's not perfect, but it's better than we've seen in fifty years: Obama tried, but Democratic Congressional organization was just not yet used to working with a completely obstructionist GOP Congress in the wake of the tea party.

Even in terms of foreign policy, this is also pretty much as good as US involvement gets. Sorry. Our foreign policy has been shaped by monsters for decades, and that's even without dealing with our huge and active branch of Christian doom cultists. There ain't a candidate in the world that could stop the entire accumulated momentum of geopolitics with a snap of the finger, and I'm not really willing to pretend that Biden is particularly notable for not managing to fix Israel/Palestine relations.

2) In your own words, anon, what precisely does organizing political action entail without participating in the political process? Do you think that abstaining from the part of the gig where you, the citizen, get to say which official gets the job somehow makes your opinions matter more to your elected public officials? Have you ever organized to get so much as a municipal one-time library project budget expanded? Are you perhaps only skilled at political argument with people who already agree with you on the Internet?

What is your leverage, and could it reasonably be described as "extortion" or "blackmail" or "political corruption?" Because those are pretty much the only things on the table that can work more effectively to drive an elected official than a disciplined coalition of political allies (who can be purchased with, you guessed it, votes) or a reliable bloc of voter support. Your vote matters less than the ones you bring with you, sure. Do you think that not voting yourself somehow helps people organize to drive more votes? Have you perhaps replaced your complex reasoning skills with a rapidly dying jellyfish?

3) Holy passive vagueness, Batman! "Evidence is going around." What a masterpiece of a sentence! How it suggests everything while providing nothing! What evidence? Who collected it? Who is talking about the evidence "going around?" Who is listening? How many of them are there? What did they think before? The more I think, the more questions I have, and damn if they ain't predisposing me to be even less charitable.

Like, this is so catastrophically poorly supported that I have to confess that I not only believe this is probably an ask in bad faith (i.e. by someone who is expecting to piss me off or otherwise engage with me adversarially, probably spammed to a whole host of blogs at once with no expectation of response) but I actively hope that it is. The alternative is to have to grapple with the reality that some people are so uncomfortable with the responsibility of moral agency that they're willing to release useful levers of legal and social power just so that they never do anything problematic with that power. Much better, of course, to wash one's hands of anything that might have the stink of responsibility clinging to it. Might fall from the membership of the Elect if you actually get yourself all muddy by doing things, I reckon.

I don't even believe that voting is the only lever we have when it comes to our elected officials or that votes are necessary to secure change, and I am certainly not talking about the presidential ticket alone when I talk voting. What I do believe is two things: one, that voting is a potential lever of power on the emergent chaos of the society in which we live. And two, that anyone telling me to leave a lever of power on the ground without a damn good reason is either incompetent, malicious, or both.

[saturnsorbits]

Skintight

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Suggestive, Word Count: 2.1k.

Summary: Sero's got an embarrassing problem.

A/N: This is a new flavour of Sero for me, but I love this one just as much.

'You can't laugh...' Sero's voice is thick in the back of his throat forcing him to attempt to cough out it's awkwardness.

It doesn't work.

There's still the tell tale pinkness of a deep blush around his cheek bones, one that streaks down his neck and vanishes beneath the high, black neck of his suit.

Holding open your front door, you raise your eyebrows already on the cusp of giggles. He's leaning on your door frame, his arm pinned above his head, elbow pressed into the wood in a way that was almost charming. 'Okay...'

'Can – Actually...' He leans back, glancing down the corridor. 'Can I come in?'

'Of course.' Stepping aside, you watch as he slips into your apartment keeping his back almost flush with the door. You watch as he goes, side-stepping his way into your living room before turning quick on the balls of his feet to face you – the same sheepish smile etched into his features. Pausing, you tilt your head. 'Are you okay?'

'Y – yeah, uh...' He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he fidgets.

You raise your eyebrows, tipping forward slightly on your tip-toes.

'I – ha... See it's funny really because -.'

'Hanta, spit it out.'

He sighs. 'I'm stuck in my suit.'

You can't help it, a chuckle bubbles up your throat and spills helplessly over your lips.

Rocking his head back on his shoulders, Hanta groans. 'I said not to laugh...'

Sucking in air through your teeth, you struggle with party balloon lungs until the wheezing subsides and you can stand a little straighter again. 'Yeah, yep, sorry...' A stray gasp leaks from your lips, forcing you to bite down on the seam to silence it. 'Go on.'

'It gets worse.' He sighs. Squeezing shut his eyes, he licks over his lips before admitting. 'I'm naked in here.'

'I'm sorry, what?' You cough, disguising the tension in your lungs. It's hard not to look then, to really look, given the new information you've just been presented with.

Black spandex, strengthened with some obnoxiously named polymer stretches over the expanse of his shoulders. He's wide there, wider than you'd expect given his slight frame, but there's no denying the muscle that lingers under the material. The black extends, covers the swells of his pecs and then tapers, cutting into odd triangles that frame the ripples of his stomach. He's not as well muscled here as he is in his shoulders. Instead of the rough blocks of abdominal muscles, his are streamlined, forming two long, thick stripes of muscle that are almost totally visible through the pale of his suit.

Letting your eyes sink lower still, your gaze lingers on the thin strips of malleable metal that serves to strengthen his suit, but also inadvertently seems to perfectly highlight the deep creases that mark out his torso. You swallow. Hidden under a black square of material, barely contained by what you have to assume is at least two layers of material is a thick bulge. The swell is obvious, casting darkened shadows onto the twitching muscles of his thighs.

'Naked, me, under here...' Gesturing his crotch, he widens his eyes.

'The fucking zip snapped and I can't ask anyone to fucking help peel me out because whoever does it is going to get an eyeful of, well... Me.'

Blinking repeatedly, you swallow the saliva collecting in your mouth and snap your eyes back up to his. His jaw is tight, his stare worried and wild as he looks at you for an answer to a question you're not sure he's got the balls to ask.

Although, new information could prove you wrong.

It's in that instant that the silliness of the situation hits you right back over the head again. You manage to hold your laughter for a solid three seconds before it's tumbling out of you again. This time, it catches you off guard, rolling through you and almost reducing you to a crouch as Sero winces in front of you. 'Why couldn't you get one of the boys to help? Surely they've seen everything before...'

'And have Denks take the piss forever? No thanks.'

'Oh...' You fold your arms across your chest. 'And you think I won't take the piss? Is that it?'

'No.' He answers too quickly, but manages to trap the rest of his half-baked confession behind his teeth before it drops into the palm of your hands. The truth is, he doesn't think he'd mind you taking the piss – he doesn't think he'd mind you doing anything to him, in all honesty. Maybe that's why instead of slinking back to the agency and hoping that Hatsume was in her workshop, he'd found himself here, almost twenty minutes out of his way. He shrugs. 'But, maybe you'll be nicer about it?'

Locking eyes with him for a moment, you pause to watch him sweat before rubbing your hands together. 'C'mon then...' You smirk. 'Let's see how big that dick is.'

'Can you not?' Sero snaps, shivering when your palm meets the muscle of his shoulder. You slide your touch across him, moving in one solid stroke from his deltoid to the thick muscle of his back. The touch, as innocent as it is, makes his stomach tighten, molten lava churning as he submits to your teasing. A soft giggle slips your lips, sliding into his ear like sweet sherbet, making him half regret his decision to ask you, but then, your fingers are playing at the dips just above his collarbone and stealing coherency from him once more.

The suit is cooler than you'd expected. You can feel it, the tips of your fingers growing colder as you search across his chest, fingertips pressing against him in a search that quickly becomes fruitless.

Scratching, you use your nails to rake down his chest and attempt to ignore the way you can feel him respond. His whole body bristles, muscles tightening as a ripple uses his spine like a fire pole. You lick over your lips and hope he can't hear the shake in your voice. 'Where the fuck is the zip on this thing?'

Stretching back his shoulders, Sero swallows. 'It's, uh, around the back...' Gathering the loose hair

Immediately, you lift your hands as if burnt. Now, your groping feels gratuitous – sexual in a way that it wasn't meant to be. Not really. When you step behind him, twisting your hip to avoid bumping it against his, you don't let your fingers wonder.

It's not hard to find it, not now you're laser focused. There's a small bump. The slightest overlap between the two sides of his suit as it wraps around the base of his neck. A few hours ago there had been a zip, the thin strip of metal poking, just, from the material, but now, there's nothing there: Just the slight bump.

Laying one hand flat against the muscle of his back, you use your index finger to skate up the zip – parting the fabric as you go. At the top, you hook your finger under the suit and begin to work at opening it.

Each touch sends a series of short static shocks up through his body, forcing him to tense the plain of his stomach to keep him from folding over. He can feel it, the delicate slip of your fingers as you manage to shift the zip from the top of his spine to near between his shoulders. Inhaling, he starts to wonder if this was a bad idea after all.

'You want me to just keep going, yeah?' You move slowly now. It's almost obscene. A private strip show. One you're participating in, that wouldn't even be happening without you. The thought has you fighting your own composure, forcing you to lock your knees to keep them from shaking.

'Ye – yeah.' He forces a laugh into his voice, but it catches behind his Adam's apple and slips out of his mouth a rasp. 'It stops like, like,' he coughs. 'Like just above my ass.' The bridge of his nose crinkles, a cringe folding his features as he stops talking.

'Okay.' Your fingers feel like they're burning as your decent reveals more and more skin. The smooth plain of his back is revealed, the muscle underneath rippling as it's loosed from it's material confines.

It's intimate in a way you'd never expected as with the slick of his suit, so too are hidden secrets revealed. There's a mole just under the curve of his right shoulder blade. A scar that runs parallel to his spine, the skin still pink and fresh. The edges of black ink that wraps around the edge of his left hip.

When the zip finally draws to a stop, you can see the cleft of his ass. If you were to slip your hands inside, splaying your fingers across the warm breath of his lower back you'd be able to sink your thumbs into his back dimples. You imagine he'd sigh. Let his head roll back on his shoulders as you press close to him. Maybe you'd let your hands slink further, following along the grooves of his hips; lines that would lead to lower and lower, until...

'All done?' His voice is wound tight when he speaks, locked somewhere in the basin of his throat and released as if thrown out on a breath.

Your reluctant to step back, to recede from the heat of his body, but you manage it. 'Yep.' You pat his back, feeling the muscle relax under your touch. 'All done.'

He turns, already wriggling his shoulders free from the material of his suit. 'Thanks, thought I was going to be trapped forever in this thing. It's so...' Slipping his fingers under the latex clinging to his left shoulder, he stretches it from his skin. 'Difficult to fucking get out of.'

You chuckle and watch him struggle. He twists around himself, peeling the second skin of his suit away only for it to snap back and illicit a hiss from between his teeth. 'C'mere, before you do yourself some serious harm.'

Sero shivers as your hands skate underneath the suit and peel him from it. He'd close his eyes to hide from the intimacy of your slow undressing of him, but all that would do is conjure images of what he wishes would come afterwards. Images of him repaying the favour, slipping you from your oversized hoodie and sinking to his knees then repaying you again in a wholly different way. He can already imagine how easy it would be to have you, and yet... 'Thanks,' he mumbles.

'No worries.' You giggle, catching his eye before you step back: his shoulders and arms freed. 'Tell you what though...' Your eyebrow arcs, a coy smile playing at the edge of your lip. 'That really doesn't hide anything, does it?'

Eyes widening, he swallows hard. The knowledge of your staring, dare he even dream admiring, sends a shock wave of tension directly south. He cock kicks, his ass clenching as if to try and disguise the too obvious bulge against the front of his costume. In an instant, his hands sink, the top-half of his suit bunched in his fist as he plays the move for comfort and hopes you don't notice a thing. 'I...'

'I'm just joking around, Han.' You chuckle around the lump in your throat. There's a notable pulse in your stomach, one that sinks by the second and has your thoughts turning savoury.

'I'll...' Sero hedges. There's an energy in his muscles, one that makes him want to bounce on the balls of his feet and do something silly.

'Do you want a t-shirt?'

The more he looks at you, the more kissable you look. You always look kissable, but right now, with the sun coming in from your living room window and that small curious smile itching at your lip... You look phenomenal. He shakes his head. 'I'll just swing home. I'll be too high and too quick for anyone to notice that I'm semi-shirtless... My place isn't far.'

'Oh, okay.' You try not to let your disappointment show, but there's a notch that forms between his eyebrows that makes you wonder just how successful you'd been at disguising it. Slinking to the door, Sero has one foot over the threshold before he turns.

Fuck it. He thinks.

'Can I tell you something?'

Your eyes shine, head tilting. 'Of course, anything.'

'I really, like, really wanna take you out to dinner.'

Your lips break into a smile, forcing apples into your cheeks as a chuckle slips through your teeth. 'Yeah?'

'Yeah.' His smile matches yours, reaching his eyes and making him glow. 'Next week? That new place down town?'

You nod, chewing at your lip as you try not to feel like an excited school girl. 'It's a date.'

Sero's heart stutters, thudding in his chest. 'It's a date.'

-> Masterlist

[hintsofhoney]

Mine

Paring(s): Alpha!Dean Winchester x F!Omega!Reader

Summary: When Dean is forced to mark Y/N in order to not blow their cover on a case, it leads him to reveal a secret that he's been keeping since they met.

Square(s) Filled: biting for @anyfandomkinkbingo

Tags: 18+, true mates, smut, p in v, marking, a/b/o if that wasn't already obvious lmao, knotting

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Helloooo, it's been a minute. If I'm being honest, I have about 10-15 finished works just sitting in my "ready to post" folder, but posting is always such an ordeal, so they just stay there until I feel like dealing with Tumblr. But, this one I did write over the last two days after I finished reading Bride by Ali Hazelwood, which I loved so much that it made me want to dip my toes into the Omegaverse! That being said, I don't know how much in here is actually in line with A/B/O "rules", but I know I needed to twist some things to fit the story (e.g. in this specific A/B/O fic/universe, claiming marks will fade if they're not true mates). Huge thank you to my A/B/O girlies, @makeadealwithdean and @emoryhemsworth, for reading it over, I love you both to the moon and back! I hope you all enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST |  SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST |  MAIN MASTERLIST

“We get in, find the knife, get out, got it?” Dean asks, looking between Sam in the front seat and Y/N in the back, making sure everyone is on the same page. They both nod once in understanding, before the three of them make their way out of the car, their doors slamming shut simultaneously. 

Y/N stares up at the mansion before them, the music loud, the party raging. It’s some charity event thrown by the wealthiest Alpha in the state, and he just happens to have the weapon they need to finish out this hunt. Y/N stumbles a bit, tripping over the cobblestone driveway in her heels, and she catches the sleeve of Dean’s suit to steady herself. He shoots her a glare that tells her to pull it together. They need to blend in.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“Here,” Dean replies, grabbing her wrist and pulling it through the crook formed by his bent elbow, forcing them to walk arm-in-arm.

“I don’t need –”

“You are an Omega, Y/N. And there are upwards of a hundred Alphas here who can all smell it. So what you need to do is start acting like one. Just because I’m not some asshole Alpha who demands your respect doesn’t mean they aren’t, and we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves.”

Y/N takes a deep breath and plasters on a fake smile as they move slowly up the driveway. “Anyone who demands my respect just because of some bullshit biological hierarchy doesn’t deserve it,” she grits out.

Dean stops, turning to face her, one of his hands on either side of her biceps. “Do you want to be on this case or not?” 

His voice is lower than usual, demanding and gruff. A voice he only uses when he wants to remind her that he is an Alpha, and bullshit biological hierarchy aside, her body is wired to listen to him. 

She gulps, and he tries not to focus on the bob in her throat, the pulse in her neck near her gland, the scent of her. The moment he met her he knew who she was, what they were. Are. He’s been taking scent blockers since before he met her, finding it far easier to interact with other Alphas when investigating cases if they couldn’t scent him out, but the moment he met her, he knew he had to start taking rut blockers too. Though, it feels like the longer he’s around her, the more immune he becomes to the pills. Like she’s going to send him into a rut any fucking second, and she has no idea. He’s thought about telling her so many times, but mates come with strings. Strings that aren’t conducive to the life of a hunter.

“Yes,” she answers his question meekly, almost submissively, and he nods to cover the hormones he forces himself to swallow down. Rejecting your biology is not easy, no matter how many pills you take.

“Then I’m going to need you to take my arm, put on a smile, and act like being an Omega is the greatest joy of your life. That means –”

“I know how to be a good little Omega, Dean,” she interrupts, dragging the words ‘good little Omega’ through a sarcastic tone.

He tenses slightly at her words, sarcastic or not. Good little Omega.

“I’m only bad for you,” she continues with a cheeky wink, and fuck, he might explode. Hell, he might take her into the bushes right now and mark her, claim her, before parading her around in front of this entire fucking party with his teeth marks on her neck. He’s rigid, trying to keep himself under control, and she gives him a playful pat on his shoulder. “Lighten up, Alpha,” she teases. “I’ll be a good girl.”

Jesus fucking Christ. He gives her biceps a squeeze that he hopes comes off as reassuring as he’s trying to make it seem, before linking his arm with hers once more and catching up to Sam at the front of the driveway.

The trio is greeted by the owner of the mansion himself, one Jim Myers, who welcomes them in with a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand. 

“How Gatsby-esque,” Y/N mutters under her breath, watching as Myers shakes Sam’s hand.

Dean nods in agreement. “You definitely wore the right outfit.”

Y/N blushes as she looks down at her dress; a black, semi body-hugging cocktail dress bedazzled with gold sequins in some sort of art deco pattern. All she’s missing is a cigarette holder and a feather in her hair. 

“Only because I read the invitation. Unlike some of us,” she mumbles in reply.

“Watch it, Omega,” Dean grits out, plastering on a smile as soon as Myers comes over to greet him.

“Jim Myers, pleasure,” he says, shaking Dean’s hand.

“Dean. And this is Y/N.”

She keeps the cordial smile on her face as Jim takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before inhaling her scent. 

“Pleasure, Miss Y/N,” he says with a feral grin, his eyes darkening with unmistakable lust as he lets her hand fall back to her side. 

Dean takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “Mine,” he practically growls, and Jim takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

“My apologies. I didn’t see a mark, so I just assumed.”

Dean falters, clearing his throat, suddenly reminded of the reason they’re all here in the first place. “No, that’s alright. It’s my fault for not putting it in a visible place.” His eyes dart over to Y/N’s. “I think I’m gonna fix that.”

She ducks her head but can’t hide the red flush that creeps up into her cheeks, reminding herself that it’s just her biology, and that this is all for show anyway. They’re here to do a job, and sometimes those jobs involve… well, whatever the hell just happened. And clearly, Dean is a better actor than she gives him credit for.

Jim chuckles, clasping his hands together. “Well, you three have fun, the drinks are free, the food is good, and if you,” he points at Sam, “good sir, are in search of an Omega, there are plenty to choose from.”

Sam blushes. “Right.” He nods. “Thanks.”

And with that, Jim disappears into the crowd.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sam says. “You two go. Upstairs, down the hall, third door on the right. If I got the right blueprints.”

“If you got the right blueprints?” Dean asks.

“Just go.” He taps his ear to indicate that he’ll drop in on Dean’s earpiece if anything goes wrong. 

Dean sighs, taking Y/N by the hand and leading her up the stairs. He weaves in and out of the crowd, the scents of everyone mixing together, making it impossible to decipher who is what. Y/N’s never been more glad to be on heat suppressors; knowing full well the scents of this many Alphas invading her nostrils would send her body into a major one.

Dean quickly finds the door, and they slip into the room unnoticed, closing the barrier and switching on the light. It’s a bedroom — the master, from the looks of it — and the knife is right in front of them in the middle of the room, across from the foot of the bed. It’s in a glass case, on display, and likely armed with a million alarms, but right in front of them nonetheless. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about what the next move should be.

“We could find something that weighs the same? Lift the glass and replace it super fast?” Y/N offers.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s the glass that’s probably set to trip an alarm. But the fact that you’re applying Indiana Jones to real life scenarios is making me want to —” 

He stops himself, realizing what he was about to say. He needs to get himself under control but Y/N in that dress with her smart fucking mouth, with other Alphas eyeing her, he really shouldn’t be here, with her, alone, and —

“Making you want to what?” she asks.

Shit. “Making me want to… make you watch more of them,” he replies, opting to circle the display case, searching it for a way in to distract himself from her. 

“Oh, goody. Can’t wait.” She’s as monotone and sarcastic as ever, and every time something smart comes out of her mouth he has to resist the urge to bend her over and fuck her right then.

“Get out of there now,” Sam’s voice comes in on Dean’s earpiece. “Lost track of him for a few seconds, just found him again. He’s making his way upstairs.”

“Shit,” Dean says. “Shit, shit, shit.” He looks around the room frantically. If they go out the door, Myers will without a doubt see them leaving his room. “Myers is coming,” he explains to a confused-looking Y/N.

“Fucking — God dammit.” She looks around too, for a hiding spot, for a weapon, and then she spots herself in the mirror hanging on the wall and an idea comes to her. “Mark me,” she orders.

“What?” Dean snaps, his attention fully on her.

“Get over here and mark me. You told him you were going to make it visible.” She continues before Dean can protest. “Who knows if it’ll even stay, it’s not like we’re mates, right? And if it does, I don’t mind being bound to you for the rest of ever. It’s not like I’m having much luck in the relationship department anyway. But we need that knife, and we’re not going to get it if we don’t –”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath with a quick shake of his head, before he strides across the room and pushes her up against the wall just in time to hear the door click. He inhales her scent, his mouth trailing from the base of her jaw all the way down to her mating gland where it hovers as the door opens all the way. Then he bites down.

Y/N throws her head back, her fingers digging into Dean’s shoulders as his teeth sink into her, and none of it is for show. The pain is euphoric, and her senses heighten, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t been so stringent on taking her fucking pills, because whatever this feeling is, coursing through her veins, settling in her core, she needs to feel it more. She can’t stand how dulled it is, how it just stays there, simmering underneath the surface. She wants to erupt. 

“Mm, fuck, Alpha!” she cries out, no trace of sarcasm in her voice, and Dean’s hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise them. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jim exclaims. “Got an alert that someone was in here, there’s some very valuable things in here, you see, and I just wanted to make sure —”

Dean pulls away from her neck long enough to shoot him a glare that translates to “get out or I’m going to kill you”, and Jim gets the message, backing out the door and shutting it behind him. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, letting his forehead fall to Y/N’s shoulder. He shouldn’t be so close to her. He should back away, give himself some space to breathe. But her scent keeps him rooted in place. It’s her usual scent; something like freshly baked sugar cookies and vanilla, sweet and enticing, but there’s something else, something —

“Are you guys okay?” Sam’s voice in his damn ear again.

Dean lifts his head and presses the button on his earpiece to reply. “Fine, Sam. Give us a second.” Then he takes the earpiece out and tosses it over his shoulder, more agitated than he should be at his brother just trying to check in.

“Dean,” she breathes, and she sounds absolutely wrecked. She brings her hands to his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Are you okay?” 

He nods. Her touch is like fire on his skin. He needs her. 

Y/N squeezes her thighs together. She’s never been able to scent Dean before, but he’s never been this close for this long. He’s never marked her, either. Right now his scent is breaking through the suppressants, little by little. It’s bits of cedar and leather and whiskey, and she’s never smelt anything like it, yet it is so familiar somehow. It invades her senses, and if this is what he smells like with suppressants, she’s terrified of what would happen without them.

“Dean… your scent.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply.

“Fuck, my pills must’ve worn off, I —”

She shakes her head. “It’s dulled but… but it’s there.” Her thighs clench together again, and she needs him back on her skin. “It’s there and it’s so fucking good.”

Dean’s eyes fall to the gland on her neck, and the severity of what he’s done comes crashing into him like a wrecking ball. It’s enough to force him to take a step away from her, panic rising in his chest. “I – fuck. I marked you. I fucking marked you.”

Y/N’s fingers come up to graze the indent on her neck, and she shudders at the touch. “I told you to.”

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N –”

“I know what happens when mates get marked, Dean,” she interrupts matter-of-factly. “I’m sure this’ll fade.”

“It won’t. I – I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck. Fuck!” He turns to the wall next to him, hitting it with the side of his closed fist. 

“Dean.” Her touch on his arm is gentle and comforting, but he doesn’t turn to face her. “You need to calm down. It’s really not a big deal, I –”

Dean takes a deep breath, both hands on the wall now as he collects himself. He can’t even bring himself to look at her when he says, “You’re my mate, Y/N.”

She takes a step back, and her fading scent is what makes him finally face her. She’s halfway across the room by the time he does. 

“W-what do you mean?”

“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he repeats.

She shakes her head, her hand coming to her neck again, the teeth marks seared into her skin. “N-no. H-how? When? How – how long have you known?”

Dean takes another long, deep breath. He could lose her tonight. She could run and never come back and he wouldn’t blame her. “Since we met.”

“THREE YEARS!?” she roars. “YOU’VE KNOWN FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS!?”

“Y/N, I –”

She stalks toward him, one finger outstretched, one fist clenched by her side. She points at him as she backs him into a wall, and he’s incredibly turned on and incredibly scared at the same time. 

“You’ve known that we’re fucking mates for three years, and you didn’t feel as though that was pertinent fucking information to tell me!?”

Dean swallows. “I – it’s – there are… strings with mates. You know that. I didn’t want to ball and chain you. I didn’t want to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. And if – fuck – we’re hunters, Y/N. If something had happened to me, and you knew… I didn’t want you to have to live with that. With the pain that comes with losing a true mate.”

Y/N stops half a foot away and drops her accusatory finger. “What did you say?” she whispers.

“True… mates,” Dean breathes.

“We’re…? But… We never – I don’t –”

“With me on my pills, and you on your pills, I think it was enough to… so we just never…”

“But you knew,” she says, closing the gap between them, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. “You knew for so long and you watched me go on dates, had to listen about the… things I did with other Alphas… if I had mated with one of them, you –”

“You deserved to have a choice. Regardless of what I wanted, you deserved to have a choice.” 

“My choice could’ve left you depressed and alone and celibate forever, you fucking dumbass.” 

He shrugs, and her hand falls to rest over his heart. She stares at it as she continues.

“When you… marked me… I felt… I don’t know what I felt. Nothing’s ever been so intense.”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and he smiles softly.

“That’s the bond,” he explains, his large palm coming to rest over the hand on his chest. 

“And if we weren’t on… our blockers?”

“If we weren’t on our blockers, there’s no fucking telling how many pups we’d have running around by now.”

Y/N shivers as the thought of being bred settles in her core, and for once she’s not cursing her biology. Dean chuckles faintly at her reaction, dropping his forehead to hers. 

“We can practice in the meantime. Until you decide you want off of them.”

She inhales deeply, taking in as much of his scent as she can. “Oh, I –” another deep breath, “I’m getting off of them for sure.”

Dean lets out a borderline animalistic growl, thinking about how many times he’ll get to fuck her through that first heat. “I’m gonna stop taking my pills, too,” he says breathily.

“Yeah?”

“I had to get on rut blockers when you moved into the Bunker because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. But now,” he says, spinning them both around and pinning Y/N against the wall, “now I don’t fuckin’ have to.”

“Dean,” she half gasps, half moans. He kisses the mark on her neck before licking all the way up to her jaw line and pulling back. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Omega.”

She meets his feral gaze with one of her own, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Prove it.” 

And it might be an incredibly stupid thing to say to a horny Alpha, but it’s also Dean. And he’d never hurt her.

“Mm, fuck.” His voice is raspy and wrecked and they haven’t even done anything yet. Before Y/N can process what’s happening, he’s picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. He climbs over her, hovering for a moment, taking in her flushed cheeks, the warmth radiating off of her, her scent. “You’re beautiful,” he states plainly, like it’s the one fact in the world that he knows without a doubt to be true. 

Y/N blushes. “Thank you, Alpha.” She says it because she knows what it does to him. 

“You’re beautiful, and I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 

A gasp leaves her lips as he pushes her dress up her hips and moves down her body to the foot of the mattress, his fingertips dancing along the hem of her panties before his eyes meet with hers. She gives him a nod, and it’s all the confirmation he needs before pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside. 

He watches hungrily as she spreads her thighs, her core damn near dripping with her wetness, and if this is what it’s like when she’s on heat blockers, he can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like covered in her slick. His cock grows hard in his slacks at the thought, and he has to step off the bed to take off his pants and boxers before the containment grows painful. He shrugs off his suit jacket and white dress shirt too, and when he’s standing in front of the bed, fully naked, Y/N is propping herself up on her elbows to take him in.

“Holy – fuck,” is all she can get out. 

Dean chuckles deeply, one knee coming up onto the mattress as he fists his cock. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He looks her over again, pussy glistening, nipples peaked through her dress. “Fuck, I want you to – would you present for me?”

A smirk spreads across her lips, but she doesn’t say anything before flipping over and assuming the position. Ass up, legs shoulder width apart, chest resting on the mattress. 

Dean lets out a low and guttural, “Fuuuuck,” and it’s enough to make her pussy clench around nothing. She feels the mattress dip behind her, and when his cock starts to move through her folds, she almost cums right then and there. 

“I know you you wish you weren’t an Omega,” he starts, “but you’re a fuckin’ perfect one, baby.” 

She shakes her head, soft whimpers escaping her as he continues to tease her with his dick. “I’m glad I’m an Omega, because I’m yours.” 

With that, Dean loses what little self control he has left. He lines himself up with her entrance and sinks into her heat, and she feels so fucking perfect, the way she molds around his cock. The noises leaving her throat spur him on as he thrusts into her, setting a bruising pace. He wraps his hand around her shoulder for leverage, his other gripping her ass.

“Oh my fuck!” she practically screams, and he can feel how close she is, can smell it. 

“You’re gonna be a good little Omega and cum for me, aren’t you baby?” he pants, and he couldn’t be thrusting deeper if he tried.

She nods frantically. “Yesyesyes, please, Alpha, I wanna to cum. I wanna — mm, fuck — on your —”

She’s too fucked out to even finish her sentence, and Dean can feel himself about to fall over the edge. “What’s that, sweetheart? Speak up.”

“I wanna cum — oh, God! — on your knot. Fucking fill me up, Dean, please.”

He barely manages another thrust before he buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock swelling inside her as he pumps her full of his seed.

The feeling of him filling her sends her over the edge, her pussy clenching around his cock, his knot, and she feels so full and fucked and sated.

“Oh my fucking fuuuuck,” he groans, feeling her pulse around him. “Fuck, everyone and this fuckin’ party is gonna be able to smell me inside of you.”

She moans at his words.

“Gonna have me dripping down your thighs ‘til we get back home.” His hand squeezes the globe of her ass before he leans over, getting as close to her ear as he can. “And then I’m gonna fuck you again. And again. And again. Because we got three years to make up for.” He nips at her ear playfully. “And now you’re finally mine.”

[sunvmars]

only you || s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x reader (brief platonic!nat, sam, and bucky.)

*navigation/directory | request box | taglist | masterlist

word count: 7.1k summary: only a few weeks after a breakup, you go out for the night with the team. steve doesn’t show up, and he’s been purposefully not showing up to anything non-work related after the breakup. however, tonight you drink a little too much, and insist that steve pick you up. warnings: angst (breakup, talk of bullying, body image issues), swearing, drinking, *smutty implications.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to call," Sam explains, his voice raised to speak louder than the blaring music.

"She keeps asking for you, and she won't go with anyone but you," Bucky adds as he and Sam lead Steve through the crowded dancefloor.

The blond sighs and shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans. "It's alright, really, but just how drunk is she, exactly?"

Before Sam can respond, they come to a stop right in front of the team's reserved booth. Bruce had only come for all of an hour of the night, but Clint and Tony had left about thirty minutes prior to Steve's arrival, leaving your well-being in Natasha, Bucky, and Sam's hands.

Steve looks over you and Nat; you're laid down on the long, cushioned seat with your head resting on her lap. Her jacket is slung over your lower half to cover your exposed legs from your dress rising up on your thighs. You're looking up at her adoringly, reaching up to twirl strands of her hair between your fingers as you mumble about how pretty her hair is.

"That answer your question?" Sam whispers, chuckling slightly.

Another sigh falls from Steve's lips, and although his heart aches, he has to stop himself from cracking a smile. "That it does."

He steps closer to the booth, taking in the sight of you with softened eyes. Typically, you never let yourself get this drunk, not in the public eye at least. Even though it's clear you've had more than a bit too much to drink, the sight is endearing.

Nat directs her attention from you and up at the three men approaching the table instead. Her expression is one of amusement with a slight hint of relief as she looks down at you again. "Hey, look who's here, honey," she says softly to you.

You turn your head in her lap and let your hands fall back down, finally releasing her hair from your gentle grip. Your eyes land on Steve and you blink up at him before a wide, drunken smile spreads on your face.

"Steeeeve!" you exclaim in a slur, reaching your hand out for him. "You came!"

He crouches down next to the booth, hesitantly taking your hand into his. "Hey, doll. 'Course I came, I always will. Looks like you've had fun tonight, huh?"

You nod excitedly and your smile spreads into a grin. "Nat's hair is sooo pretty, did ya know that? 'S soft too, like a pillow," you ramble, your words somehow not coming out scrambled.

"I bet," Steve says, watching Nat brush your hair out of your face. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

"Your home?" you ask in a softer voice.

Right. His home.

"I don't..." Steve starts before falling into silent contemplation.

He looks up at Nat who's already looking back at him, her expression apologetic and soft. Then his eyes shift back down to you, and his heart clenches in his chest. Your eyelashes flutter as you blink at him, your eyes light up and twinkle in a way that they only do for him, and your lips part a little as you take slower breaths.

How could he say no to that?

"Sure, yeah, we'll go back to mine," he concedes gently, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.

You smile again and scramble to sit upright. Nat lays a hand on your back to help keep you balanced, Steve taking your other hand in his free one to pull you up gently. When you're sat up straight, he takes Nat's jacket off your legs and helps you tug your dress back down.

He slides your phone off the table and into his pocket before throwing your arms around his neck. You take the hint to hold on as he slides one of his arms under your legs and the other behind your back.

Effortlessly, he lifts you into his arms. You clasp your hands together behind his neck and a giggle slips out of your lips- a sound that was once music to his ears which had now become one he longed to hear again.

"G'night, Nat," you say sweetly, turning your head to look at her.

Steve's body follows the direction of your head, turning towards the table so you don't strain your neck. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you once more.

"Goodnight, babe. Text me tomorrow, alright?" she requests before looking up at Steve and saying, "Make sure to get some water in her, we had to trick her into drinking some by watering down her tequila."

"Will do-"

Your gasp cuts Steve off effectively, her words only just now sinking in. "That wasn't tequila?!" you exclaim, your voice coming out quieter than you realize.

The three at the table laugh a little- even Steve lets out a low chuckle of his own.

"I'll let you in on a secret," Nat starts, her voice dropping to a whisper before continuing, "It was definitely tequila, but you know these guys are no fun, so we can't tell them that."

"Ohhh, right, right. I can keep a secret- you're the world's bestest adult sitter," you reply softly.

"The best, huh?" she questions with a half smirk.

When you nod, she takes a sip of her drink, placing the glass down before saying, "I'll be expecting my plaque soon then."

"You wanna say bye to Sam and Bucky?" he asks, looking over slightly to meet your eyes.

You hum in response and he walks you over a few steps to Bucky and Sam who are sitting at the other end of the table. The pair smile at you, though it's more of an amused grin on Bucky's end, and you return the gesture.

"Bye, Bucky," you say, sleep and intoxication ridden in your voice.

Bucky chuckles and rises to his feet to ruffle your hair playfully. "Bye, doll. You get some good sleep, alright?"

Your nose scrunches at the feeling of his hand in your hair. "Always good sleep when with Stevie."

Bucky sits back down, and Sam starts to speak, "Punch it in," he instructs, raising his fist up to your level.

You oblige happily, curling your hand into a fist to the best of your ability and bumping it against his. "G'bye," you slur, nuzzling your face into the crook of Steve's neck.

"Call us if you need us," Bucky says to Steve.

"Yeah, thank you for watching over her," Steve responds appreciatively, "Goodnight, be safe getting home."

"'Night," the three say collectively, smiling at him in a way that's bordering apologetic.

Steve forces a smile before turning to walk away. He makes his way through the crowd, holding you tight and protectively against his chest.

"You can go to sleep if you want, I can tell you're sleepy," he murmurs low enough for just you to hear him.

A small whimper emits from you, making a warmth spread through his body. He looks down at you adoringly before looking back up, shifting his focus back to the rather slow journey to the exit. Although some people part to make way for who they know to be Captain America himself, most of them are too drunk to care. So, Steve focuses heavily on navigating through the maze of bodies.

When he steals a glance down at you again, you're sleeping peacefully and your head has fallen back away from his neck. You must've felt him move though, because you immediately nestle your face back into his neck, and the warmth of your breath against his skin makes him shiver. The scent of the alcohol you'd been drinking lingers, but it's mixed with the familiar fragrance of your vanilla perfume, and it creates a blend that only you could pull off.

When you reach the exit, the cold, autumn night air hits both of your faces. Steve adjusts his grip on you to make sure you're comfortable and then walks to the car he ordered that dropped him off. The driver steps out, and opens the passenger side door for the two of you, allowing Steve to slide you comfortably onto the seat.

He thanks the driver as you whine at the loss of contact. You melt sleepily into his touch when he reaches in to brush your hair behind your ear to let you know he's not leaving. The bright city lights reflect in his blue eyes, and a soft, but achy, smile plays on his lips at the sight of you. Careful not to wake you or pinch your fingers, he fastens your seatbelt, making sure you're secure before closing the car door.

He walks to the other side of the car and gets in, choosing to sit by the window instead of next to you in the middle seat. As the car starts up, he can't help but look at you and admire you. The admiration quickly turns into longing, though. He takes in every part of your face, his mind plaguing itself with the memory of just over two months ago.

"I don't think I'm right for you."

The words flow easily from your mouth like water between open fingers. Steve looks at you, utterly confused and hurt. His jaw tightens, his eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again when he can't find the words.

He gets off the couch, rising to his feet and looking at you from across the room. "You want to leave, to forget everything from the last year and a half, just because you don't think you're right for me?"

The weight of your decision and his words sit heavily on your shoulders as you slouch over, putting your face in your hands for a moment. "I... I'm no good for you, Steve, and you deserve better than me... I can't be what, or who, you need."

"What are you talking about, y/n? You're perfect to me, I wouldn't trade you for anything," he explains, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring despite the fear and irritation building up in him. "Please, tell me what I can do to make you feel better and I'll do it, I'll do anything-"

"You can't do anything!" you finally snap, your emotions being misdirected towards him. You let the warm tears that were welling up fall freely from your eyes as you continue, "There's nothing you can do, Steven, I'm not the person you need, and I never will be. Drop it, just leave it at that, and move on."

"'Leave it at that?'" Steve repeats back in bewilderment. "We have been together for almost two years and you expect me to drop all of it just like that?"

All you can muster up in response is a quiet, "I'm sorry."

He watches you stand up and sling your purse over your shoulder. Desperately, he scrambles for the right words to say to make you stay. "Baby, please, tell me what's really going on here- this cannot be it for us, I won't let it be."

Steve takes long strides towards you only for you to back away from him. For some strange reason, that small action hurt worse than any of the words that came, or could possibly come, out of your mouth. He stops dead in his tracks, trying to search your face for any sign of changing your mind. When he doesn't find it, he bites down on his tongue to save himself more heartache from the useless begging he wants to let out.

"I'm sorry, Steve. You deserve better, and you always have," you mumble, wiping the tears off your cheeks and walking quickly to the front door.

"I love you," he says, only to receive no response other than the front door slamming shut as you walk out of it.

“You alright back there?” the driver’s voice snaps Steve out of his thoughts. “You need heat or air? Seat warmers? Anything?”

Steve shakes his head slightly, snapping himself out of it. His hand reaches over to you, and he rests the back of his hand on your forehead. “A little heat, thanks,” he says with a smile after nothing the tinge of cold your skin has.

“Of course,” the driver says with a returned smile as he turns the heat on.

As he avigates the familiar route to Steve’s apartment, with the sleepiness Steve feels, he's thankful for the fact that there's only a minute or two remaining of the drive. And on the other hand, he’s sulking about the short time left because that’s two minutes closer to you being gone by the time he wakes up.

He turns his gaze back to you, still peacefully asleep with your head resting against the window. The soft hum of the engine provides an almost calming backdrop that yet does nothing to soothe the ache that persists. Focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest always seems to soothe him though, and it still does so now.

The car comes to a stop in front of the apartment, and Steve reaches into his wallet to pull out some cash. He pulls out his keys too, to make it easier when he gets to the door. Then he hands the cash to the driver with a grateful nod before getting out of the car and making his way to your side. Gently, he opens the door, reaching up quickly to lean your head back on the headrest.

You grumble a little, and he's quick to ease you as he unbuckles your seatbelt. "Sorry, sweetheart, but we're home now."

"Home?" you murmur, still half asleep.

He carefully lifts you into his arms once more, and you instantly cling to his jacket. "Yeah... home."

The building's lobby is quiet as he enters through the automatic doors, the night shift doorman giving him a knowing smile. Steve offers nothing but a small and short nod in return, his focus solely on your drunken state. Luckily the elevator ride is short, but every second feels like an eternity to him.

The weight of your body curled up in his arms provides a comforting familiarity. It's a familiarity he soaks up though, having not seen you outside of work during the few missions you had together. In fact, you hadn't spoken to him outside of work since you left either.

Even during missions, you were short with your comments. And when you picked up your things from his apartment, of which you were actively moving into, you did it on a day when he was gone. You'd left your key under the mat and shot him a brief text letting him know. He replied, only asking how you were doing, but he got no response back.

The elevator dings, snapping him out of his thoughts again as he steps out, taking long strides until he reaches his door. He turns to the side, bending down ever so slightly to unlock the door with his keys in the hand hooked under your legs. He twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, carrying you inside with practiced ease.

The soft glow of outside city lights filters through the open windows. Paired with the dim tv, the lights cast a cool ambiance over the living room. With a deep breath, he heads straight to his room and slowly lays you down on the bed.

The bedroom is dark except for the blue and green aurora projected on the ceiling from the starlight projector you insisted he get since his room was too 'plain.' At first, the light kept him up at night because he found it too distracting, but since you'd left, he couldn't sleep without it on. After all, it was the only piece of you that you left with him other than the few shirts and undergarments.

Steve sighs deeply, taking your heels off your feet and placing them next to the bed. He covers you with your favorite blanket from the foot of his bed, and with a heart heavier than typical, he makes his way to the kitchen to fill up a cup with water. He then carries the glass back to the bedroom and sits it on the bedside table.

He takes a moment to simply watch you as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you. The soft features of your face relaxed in sleep makes him contemplate waking you up- you were always a peaceful sleeper, and he hated disturbing those few moments of peace.

Before he can attempt to wake you, you begin to stir, your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes slowly open. You blink slowly a few times, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and then a sleepy smile forms on your face when you see Steve.

"Hey," he greets you softly, reaching over to offer you the glass of water from the nightstand.

"Thank you," you say.

It's obvious that you're still not sober as you take the glass and sit up too quickly, the sudden movement resulting in your head throbbing as you groan. "Ouch," you mumble, pressing the palm of your free hand against your forehead.

"You okay?"

"Think so," you reply, sitting up much slower than before.

The cool water soothes you a little as you take small sips of it. A contented sigh falls from your lips, your body appreciating the non-alcoholic beverage. You place the glass back onto its spot on the nightstand and then focus your attention back on Steve.

Your eyes reflect the projector's lights as your eyes rake over him for a few seconds. Slower than you realize, you raise your hand and brush it gently over his cheek in admiration. "You're like... like an angel, but a reaaally handsome one," you croon.

Steve chuckles, a mixture of amusement and genuine joy spreading across his features. "I'm flattered, but you're the angel here, honey," he says with a smile.

He captures your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. You giggle in response, the alcohol still evident in your system, and then your happy expression fades away. You look down, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.

"I'm sorry for, uhm, causing a fuss t'night. I never meant to ruin your night..."

The look on his face becomes one closer to sympathetic as he drops your hand, now reaching over to cup your cheek. Carefully, he forces you to look at him as he speaks. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything, alright? I'll always come when you need me, and I'm just glad you're okay."

Missing the feeling of his skin on yours all too much, you lean into his touch, letting his warmth soothe you. "Thanks for...everything."

"Anytime, truly," he replies.

There's a comfortable silence that falls between you, the weight of the obvious unspoken words lingering in the air. You look up at him, trying to keep yourself awake. Steve drops his hand and tries to memorize every detail of your face. He knows that tomorrow things will go back to how they were, and he's not sure he can stomach that.

It only takes a few more beats of silence before he breaks the said silence, his voice low and gentle. "Can we talk?" he asks, his blue eyes searching yours.

You hum for a moment, taking a slow breath before saying, "Jus' for a minute, very sleepy."

"I just... I have one question, that okay?"

"Hm?"

Steve musters up the courage to speak, only breaking apart from your gaze for a second. "Could you maybe tell me why you left? Like why you really left?"

When your eyes flicker with hesitation and sadness, he starts to regret asking. The air feels heavier than it ever has, holding the weight of everything spoken and not yet said, but he breathes it all in. Right as he's about to tell you to not worry about it, you take a deep breath and smother your vulnerability with the knowledge that he deserves the truth. Slowly as to not give yourself another headache, you nod.

"S'like I told you, that was the truth, 'm not good enough. You look at me with so much love and admiration, and I know...I know I could never live up to what you think of me," you explain, drawing out each word a little more than you would if you were sober. "'M holding you back, always have been, and you deserve better."

His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words, his gaze intense and sharp. "I look at you like that because of who you are, not because of who I think you should be," he says in an attempt to reassure you. He reaches out to take your hand in his as he continues, "You're always been more than enough, honey. I mean, hell, you're more than I deserve, and-"

"No, no, you don't get it!" you exclaim lowly, cutting him off and taking your hand out of his grip. "Y-you're perfect, you're America's golden boy, and 'm jus' me. I hate my body, my mind, an-and everything about me. Could never be good enough for you, Steve. As if I don't already hate myself enough, everyone says and sees how much more you deserve, except for you."

Steve's mind races and his heart tightens as he takes in your words. The obvious pain in your voice cuts through him like a scalding knife, the tears welling up in your eyes cutting him even deeper. He's now sure that nothing could measure up to the pain of hearing you talk about yourself in the complete opposite way of how he thinks of you.

Silence passes as he dwells on your words. Then it clicks.

"Who's been saying that?" he questions sternly.

You avoid his gaze like the plague, immediately breaking the eye contact you were holding. Physically, you can feel yourself shrink. Whether it's the guilt from your outburst, the shame from everything you've heard and thought about yourself, or the intensity of his gaze- you're not sure.

His jaw tightens in anger, but not directed at you. "Who, y/n?"

A deep and heavy sigh falls from your lips as your eyes dart around the room. "Phone," you say quietly, holding out your hand to him.

Steve looks at your outstretched hand, confusion covering the concern etched on his face briefly. He pauses for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out your phone. Placing it in your hand, he watches closely as you unlock it with shaky fingers. Your eyes scan over the screen, but it doesn't take long for you to find what you were looking for, and your expression tells it all.

You hesitate to hand the phone to him, but you do so anyway, lying down on the bed and curling up into yourself as soon as the phone touches his hands. And, not that you see it, but his eyes narrow as he reads over everything rapidly. You'd had it all saved in a little folder; every message, every media report, every post made about you.

He's not sure what's worse of the situation, to be honest. To know that you'd felt this way about yourself for God knows how long and not have said anything about it was painful, sure. However, the words written about you were downright cruel, analytical, and simply not true at all.

But the amount of things that were written and you had saved for you to read at your whim, only reaffirming whatever untrue things you thought about yourself? That was a different level of hurt that he could imagine hurt you hundreds of times worse than it does him.

Unable to stomach anymore, he places your phone face down on the nightstand. Silently, he scoots up on the bed to be closer, reaching out to place his hand on your cheek. You flinch at the contact at first, but his touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the words you've been subjected to.

"I'm so, so sorry, my sweet girl," he says softly, trying to force down tears of his own.

You take a shaky breath in and out, your voice barely above a low murmur. "Didn't want you to leave me, so I left first."

Steve's heart sinks at your admission, his thumb gently stroking your cheek to wipe away the stray tear that escaped your eye. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that's meant to offer some kind of comfort and reassurance.

"I would've never left you, and I still won't, okay? I know you care about what they say, but I don't. Nothing could ever skew my image of you, angel, you're my definition of perfect- you don't have any image to live up to in my mind," he promises with a soft-spoken tone.

You can't find it in you to respond even though you want to, all too scared of your voice failing you. Sheer pain radiates from you to the point where it's almost suffocating. While he's more than aware that no words can take back anything you've read or heard, the simple fact that he can't undo what has already been done riddles him with guilt still.

If he could, he would take all of that ache and bear it all for you.

"When did all this start?" he inquires, waiting patiently for your answer.

"I don't know..."

"I know you do, honey, you can tell me."

"Only... Only a week after we got together, got worse after I started moving in here."

"Scoot," he instructs gently, careful to control his tone with you although he feels a deep rage.

You oblige and scoot over slowly. Almost instantly, he lays down behind you, curling up so that his body molds with yours. He brushes a few pieces of your hair back before wrapping his arm around your midsection to hold you protectively against him.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" he asks, adding on, "And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."

After thinking about it for a second, you nod. He tries to find the best way to ask what he wants to ask. Deep down he wants, but somehow already knows, the answer, yet he doesn't want to make things worse. Nor does he want it to seem like the subject is the only thing he was thinking about.

"Is…is all of this, meaning what people have said and what you think about yourself- is this why we've never, you know, done anything together?" he inquires with furrowed brows from the overwhelming amount of emotions. "I'm just asking because I never thought this would be why, I thought I was doing something wrong or you just weren't ready."

Your body tenses at his question, and you have to steady your voice before answering, "Part of it. Never felt good enough, and I didn't want you to see me like that and be disappointed."

Steve frowns, sighing lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. The gesture is simple, but it effectively conveys the depth of what he feels.

"I don't care how long it takes me to convince you, but I'll spend forever trying to get you to see yourself even a fraction of the way I do if I have to," he says as his thumb traces circles on your side. "You're absolutely breathtaking, angel. Fuck anyone who says you're anything other than beautiful."

A quiet giggle slips from between your lips, unable to hold contain your momentary amusement. For the first time in a while, he smiles a real, genuine smile. "You don't know how long I've missed the sound of that pretty laugh."

"You said 'fuck,'" you tease, trying to soak in the temporary joy.

He chuckles and the sounds rumbles through his chest. "Sometimes I can be a little hypocritical, especially when it comes to protecting you."

The smile you hold fades again, and you're left with nothing but the sadness and warmth of Steve's body behind yours. "Thank you," you whisper.

Steve tightens his hold around you and presses another gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. "You don't need to thank me for telling you the truth, it's what I'm here for, and I meant every word."

The two of you lay there in silence for a while. The room stays filled only with the sounds of your delicate breathing and the occasional passing of a distant car. This time, the silence isn't agonizing though. Steve's presence makes it feel comforting, and his words make your brain go mute even if just for tonight, making the weight of the world lift just a little.

"Stevie?" you murmur, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?" he responds.

Your fingers wrap around his wrist. "Don't wanna be alone t'night," you admit.

"Then you won't be," he promises softly. "Do you want me to help you out of that dress? No pressure, of course, I was just thinking it might be more comfortable for you to sleep if you changed. I think you've still got a shirt here or you could wear one of mine, and like I said I could leave if-"

"Steve?"

"...Yes?"

"Don't think I could get out of this dress by myself right now if I wanted to, and I'd love one of your shirts."

Steve smiles at your response, relief washing over him at your comfort with him. He unwraps his arm from around you, sitting up slowly before helping you sit up. When he slides off the bed, walking over to his dresser to find a shirt, you scoot yourself slowly to the edge of the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and your shoulders slouch as you try to keep yourself awake.

With a worn-out gray t-shirt in his hand, he walks back over to you. "Alright, sweetheart. Let me take care of you," he says.

He places the shirt on the bed and reaches behind you to unzip your dress. You allow your head to fall against his chest, trying to soak in his warmth. His movements are slow and delicate, precise too, ensuring that he doesn't cause you any discomfort.

Once the zipper is down, he leaves his hands resting on your back to help you slide off the bed. Then he slips the thin straps down your arms, allowing the dress to fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear.

Crystalline, icy blue eyes rake over your body for a moment as he bends down to pick up the discarded fabric. It's not a sexual ogling, and you know that; he's simply admiring you the way he has always wanted to.

Suddenly feeling bashful, you avoid his gaze. You look at anything but him or your body, opting to focus on the street lights outside the big window. He catches your slight shyness immediately and quickly tries to soothe you.

"Hey," he coos with concern written on his face, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek, "You're perfect, angel. Are you feeling uncomfortable, do I need to step out for a minute?"

"N-no," you answer promptly and force yourself to meet his eyes. "'M jus' not used to being looked at like this."

Steve's gaze softens, clearly showing he understands the vulnerability you feel. He leans in to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. "If you let me, I'll help you get used to it- and I'll make sure you never feel unsafe or uncomfortable with me. How's that sound?"

The corners of your lips manage to quirk up into an appreciative smile. "Sounds nice, Stevie," you reply, your voice low but still audible.

Returning the same appreciative look, he picks up the t-shirt and says, "Thank you for letting me see you, and touch you, but let's get into something more comfortable for right now. You need some sleep."

You nod and raise your arms up in the air so he can slide the t-shirt onto you. It's then that you notice he'd given you the same shirt you wore the first night you ever spent the night at his place, and almost every time since then, threatening to make you cry.

The fabric is as soft against your skin as it always has been, and the scent of Steve's cologne envelops you, providing a sense of security. A warm feeling spreads through your chest at how he cares for you.

Steve takes a small step back to admire you in the shirt, and just to get another look at you. A fond smile plays on his lips as he looks you over once more. "Always has looked better on you than it does on me. Good to know it still does," he says, honesty obvious in his voice.

Again, your eyes lock with his. You search him for any sign of anything negative, coming up with nothing almost instantly. He searches you for any look or hint of discomfort, but he finds nothing other than sleepiness and adoration in your gaze.

Silence passes over the two of you like it had just mere minutes ago. The quiet environment feels even more natural and comforting than it did before, though.

He clears his throat, trying to prevent the eye contact from becoming awkward for you. "Uhm, let's get you into bed, alright?"

You step to the side so he can pull the comforter back, your hands playing with the bottom hem of the shirt. He turns to face you, and you take a wobbly step towards him, balancing yourself by placing your hands on his chest. His hand flies to your lower back to offer you more support, and you look up at him through the eyelashes of your sleepy eyes.

Slowly, tracing your way up and down his chest once, your eyes stare into him with something he'd never seen in you before. In fact, the look is so intense that it could make any man weak, he's sure of it. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly at your sudden touchiness.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, somehow oblivious to exactly what look it is that you're giving him.

"Mhmm," you hum, drawing out the 'hm,' with a voice laced with a soft and sleepy seduction from still being tipsy. "Y'know, 'm not thaaat tired."

"Oh? The way that you're hardly able to hold yourself up says otherwise, angel. We have all of tomorrow to talk, let me just help take care of you tonight."

A giggle slips from between your parted lips in response to his cluelessness. "S'cute when you're so sweet," you croon.

"Do you, uhm, do you need something before bed? Like an Advil maybe?"

Instead of a verbal response, you grab onto his jacket and give it a slight tug. You take a step forward, pushing him back gently to force him to sit on the bed. He looks up at you in confusion, but you don't let go of him as you slowly straddle him. With your weight being supported by your knees on the bed and his legs under you, you lean in, nuzzling your face into his neck.

"Angel, what're you-"

Your lips brush lightly under his jawline, leaving a trail of tender kisses as you gradually make your way down to under his chin.

Steve's breath hitches, and his free hand comes to rest on your waist with a delicate, but firm, grip. "O-oh," he murmurs in a sigh.

You nibble gently on his jaw. "Jus' need you," you mumble before pressing your lips to his.

He lets you kiss him, unable to resist the feeling because, well fuck, how could he?

The taste of your lips is all too familiar, and as his lips work against yours, his hands find your hips. His hold on you is secure, and it does nothing to ease the arousal building up in your stomach. You whine from the contact, and he tugs you closer, still careful to keep you steady on his lap.

His resolve weakens, and he becomes hyperaware of your vulnerable state again. So, he breaks the kiss, looking down and into your eyes.

"Y/n, I'm not sure if-" he starts, only to be interrupted by you dipping down to bite on his neck. You suck harshly on his neck as you reach down and palm him through his jeans.

A low groan emits from his chest, his voice husky when he speaks. "God, baby.”

Thoroughly enjoying the reaction he gives, you whimper against his neck. He can feel the corners of your lips turn up into a slight smile. His other hand is on the other side of your waist, gripping it firmly, as soon as you start grinding down onto his thigh. He loses himself in the moment for just a second before reminding himself of your inebriated state.

“F-Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Wait, wait- stop.”

You bite down once more, whining slightly before pulling away. The sensitive spot on his neck pulses, rushing with blood from the sucking and vibration. He tenses up with a mixture of both surprise and arousal at your forwardness. Then he lets both of his hands find your hips and settle on them, his hold tightening on you.

"D-did I do somethin' wrong? Did that not feel good?" you ask with a deep frown.

"No, no. That's not it, I promise; everything you've done feels amazing," Steve reassures you, quickly shutting down your negative thoughts.

Once again, he clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "Angel, you're just… not in the best state right now. I won't take advantage of you, and I don't want you doing anything you might regret," he explains as he looks down to meet your gaze.

You're staring up at him with those big puppy dog eyes that you always use as an effective method to sway him. Tonight, though, is vastly different.

"C'mon, doll. Don't look at me like that. If you still want me in a few hours, when you're sober, that is, then I am all yours," he promises, trying to bargain with you.

You stick your lower lip out a little unintentionally, giving him the cutest pout he's ever seen. "Sober..." you repeat, looking away almost in shame as you add, "Promise you'll still want me then?"

Steve tilts your chin up with his finger and forces you to lock eyes with him. "I can promise you. I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want you. And that's never going to change."

Tantalizingly, he runs his thumb across your lower lip, a small smile playing on his lips. "But, I need you to be sure that this is what you want. I want you to remember every moment, not just bits and pieces of it, and know that everything we do is your choice," he says softly.

After taking a moment to process his words, you nod in understanding- noting the sincerity in his eyes. The room fills itself with an assortment of emotions, ranging everywhere from desire, uncertainty, and just a touch of venerable fragility.

Steve brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his expression one of soft neutrality. "Alright. Let's get you tucked in," he whispers, his voice a low murmur.

You let go of his jacket after he scoots back on the bed, bringing your knee from the other side of his leg and lying down. You curl yourself into a ball, and Steve's eyes never leave you as you do so. He takes a moment to appreciate the mere sight of you back in his bed, and a wave of warmth rushes through his chest. His earlier desires are still very much present, but so is the respect for the boundaries he set for your well-being.

He gets up briefly to pull the blankets over you before sitting down in the comfy chair in the corner of the room to take his shoes off. The chair you'd begged him to get as well to fill up the empty space in the room.

After sliding the boots under the chair, he makes his way to the dresser to change into some loose-fitting sweatpants. When he's about to put a shirt on, you grumble a 'no,' that catches his attention and makes him turn to face you.

"No?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow up questioningly.

"Nuh-uh," you respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles lightly. "Why not?"

"Warmer without it, not a bad sight either," you say softly, following it up with a yawn.

Steve smirks in appreciation of your usual playfulness. "If you insist," he concedes, deciding to forgo the shirt. He slips the shirt back into the drawer and walks back over to the bed.

He settles himself in beside you and lifts his arm up, allowing you to scoot into his side and rest your head on his chest. Happily, you hum, soaking up his warmth and focusing on his steady heartbeat. He then reaches down with his free hand to pull the blanket over himself.

"Uncomfortable?" you murmur, sleep laced in your voice.

"No, I'll be alright as long as you're comfortable."

A second passes by before you speak again. "Thank you."

"For what, angel?"

"For being so...you."

You feel Steve's chest rise and fall with a deep, contented sigh. His fingers trace slow circles on your back through your shirt. "Always," he whispers, his soft voice lulling you even closer to sleep.

The room stays wrapped in a soothing silence, the only sounds heard being the quiet breaths from both of you. As you lay there trying to sleep, you can't help but marvel at the man beside you. Everything about him is truly perfect, from his basic concern for your well-being to the way he has always taken care of you.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy, slowly shutting fully as you find yourself on the brink of slumber. Just before you succumb to sleep, you muster up the energy to mumble, "Steve?"

"Hmm?" he responds, his chest rumbling under your cheek.

"'M glad it's you."

"Wouldn't trade you for anything, sweetheart," he murmurs, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "And, for the record, I'm glad it's you too."

Steve continues to run his fingers over your back as you fall asleep. His fingers create a rhythmic pattern that mirrors the peaceful in and out of your breathing, only making your rest more soothing. He looks down at you and smiles to himself, reveling in the sheer joy of having you back, even if it's only for tonight.

Often the weight of his responsibilities feels too heavy to bear, but with you, there's a sense of solace that transcends the chaos of the outside world. Everything about you and your presence is a sanctuary. It's all a nice reminder that, after everything he does for everyone else, he's worthy of a little tranquility at the end of the day too.

Steve presses another gentle kiss into your hair before closing his eyes, savoring the sweet moment. "Goodnight, angel."

He hears your tired, softly grumbled response before he falls asleep. Though he tries not to let himself get too wrapped up in the moment, too used to your presence again, he does anyway. If there is anything he wants for the rest of his life, it's you next to him.

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[certaimromance]

ꫂ ၴႅၴ Allegation Of Love.

Aaron Hotchner x Lawyer!reader

Summary: When you arrive at the police station to defend a client's innocence, you don't expect the man accusing her to be the same man you've been dating for months.

Words: 1,6k.

TW: mentions of crime and serial killers (normal warnings in the series). established relationship. aaron already divorced. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: I just love Hotch and wanted to write something with him here. To me, he is definitely the kind of man who is so tired from work that he tries not to mention it on a date (of course, after all the trauma he has been through).

Also, I'm warning you that this is all very chaotic because I'm doing a lot of serious writing lately and I need pink love, comforting and even uncomfortable chaos to relax. So I've been re-watching the first season of the show (sorry, I'm just a girl and not a fan of the last few seasons🥲) and I want to salvage a little of the Hotch we were introduced to before so much misfortune befell him.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

It wasn't that you were annoying, particularly aggressive, or obsessed with being right, you just did your job to the best of your ability. Even if that meant being the villain of other people's stories and mentally going over every law to make sure it was obeyed.

The issue was that not everyone saw it the same way. In the workplace, where you managed, your exact memorization of the rules wasn't always appreciated if you were the one carrying the defense and doing everything to overthrow the other side's theories. For the same reason, you usually had to argue with cops, prosecutors, judges, and—on this occasion—even an FBI agent who wasn't happy with your presence.

You had in your hands an alleged confession of several murders delivered by your client under the coercion of the man who was interrogating her, without your presence there and with some pretty questionable methods to put her in an empty room without concrete evidence or an order from the judge. Unbelievably, it was a fairly common occurrence in your day-to-day work.

At least it was until the boss of the agent you were arguing with showed up and everything started to get complicated.

“What's going on here?”

The cross words and your intensity in emphasizing the injustice of the manipulation of the confession did not allow you to realize that there was someone else in the room. Much less that it was someone who looked exclusively at you until one of the police officers present cleared his throat.

“There has been a violation of the law.” You slowly turned to look behind you, and that's when you saw him.

Aaron stood stiffly, trying to look professional and serious, wearing a tie that matched your dress.

“There wasn't one, Hotch. We just got the confession.” Agent Morgan interjected into the silence provoked by the exchange of glances between you and his supervisor.

For the first time in the half hour you'd been there, you were completely silent. Even when two more agents showed up to try to defuse the situation, you didn't stop repeating the same arguments and insisting on your point. Now, however, you seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

There was a long pause before Aaron spoke carefully. “I'll take care of clarifying the situation.”

Trying to remain serious and stoic, he led you to one of the station's offices with the excuse that he wanted to talk about the case quietly so as not to attract the attention of his team. The strange thing was that he called you by name in front of everyone, without anyone having introduced you before. Maybe one of you two would have noticed if you had been a little less attentive to the other and more attentive to how the situation looked in the other's eyes.

“What are you doing here?” He asked as soon as he closed the door behind you, loosening the tension in his jaw a little, at least now it was just the two of you.

“Where's my 'Good to see you, sweetie. Please don't sue us' or anything like that?”

He raised an eyebrow at your comment, hoping you would take it seriously. Automatically and unconsciously, he had begun to move away from you and sat down on the other side of the desk, marking a distance between the two of you. Aaron had brought out his work side and you had hidden it at the mere sight of him.

“The woman your team pressured into confessing to a crime is my client.” You finally spoke in a serious tone, staring at him with some surprise. This wasn't the usual dynamic with him—you usually had a more relaxed side to him.

“Since when do you take cases like this?”

“Since it's been assigned to me.” You said, raising your shoulders. “One of the buffet partners is on vacation and left me to his clients, as I mentioned the other night.”

The other night when you were in his car, when he had his hand on your thigh as he drove home, when he smiled at you every chance he got to turn around and look at you. When the two of you weren't on completely different sidewalks and weren't supposed to act like strangers.

“This is pretty weird.” You said after watching him for a few seconds and noticing that he seemed lost in his memories. “I hope the agent I was arguing with isn't your friend. That would be awkward.”

Aaron looked at you, trying to figure out what could have happened before he showed up. He already knew you were a good lawyer, very capable and, above all, a good striker. It was too weird for him to think that you had been using your skills against his own team, against the friends he once wanted to introduce you to and that you had now met for the first time in the most unimaginable way.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing.”

“You look at me like I'm a ghost.”

His brow furrowed again.

He didn't want to say out loud that everything related to his work had ended badly and was completely destroyed, just like his ex-marriage and any attempt to fix it. He had always felt comfortable with you because your work was just as demanding but less dangerous than his. You usually handled family cases, divorces, estates, and coordinating child care. You were away from the blood, the killers, and all the atrocities he lived with.

“I'm worried about you being in the middle of this. It can be dangerous.” He showed his concern for you and had to hold back from holding your hand.

“You should worry more about the lawsuit.” You pointed out in a tone somewhere between teasing and serious. You didn't like him worrying too much. “I'm very good.”

“This is serious.” He finally let his guard down and placed his hand on your knee from under the table, giving it a gentle touch.

That was the man you know and love.

“Me too, it's my job.”

“And you're making my job harder.” He pointed out with a small smile in response to yours.

What were the chances of your love life and work life crossing paths like this? You thought they were pretty slim, which is why you steered clear of talking about work when you were together.

You were just about to answer when you heard a tap on the door and one of the agents who had been watching you during your discussion came over to give Aaron some information about the profile. You couldn't understand him very well because he seemed to be speaking in code because of your presence.

“I'll be there in a moment, Rossi. Get the team together and we'll talk.” Hotchner finished earnestly. You could still feel the warmth of his touch on your knee. “I'm just finishing up here.”

As soon as he left the office, you looked at Aaron with surprise.

“Is he who you always mention?” You asked, and he nodded. “I thought it was 'Rosie,' not 'Rossi,' and that he was a woman.”

“Now I understand why you grimace when I mention his name.” He replied with some amusement. “You were jealous.”

Yes, especially when you found out that they'd shared a room once.

“Don't mock me, I'm about to sue you.” You advertiste in a fake threatening tone, pointing a finger at him. “And I don't care how handsome you look right now, I'll do my job.”

“Me too.” He replied, trying to ignore your compliment to keep a serious expression on his face. “And you look pretty too, I like that dress.”

The love between you seemed to be bubbling anyway, and it was impossible to hide it when you had breakfast together just a few hours ago. You went from making him coffee to offering him a lawsuit if he didn't agree with you.

“I know, I'll use this dress while I debunk your profile theory.” You got up from your seat suddenly after taking your phone out of your bag. It was then that you looked him in the eye. “Are you going to release my client now or should I call the judge?”

“You're not going to take a suspect in five murders. I'm not going to let her off the hook.” He copied your action.

“Give me the evidence then, love.”

Oh, to call him that at that point was a cheap shot, especially when you were the one who won because he had no concrete evidence, only theories and his complex profile.

“But stay away from her anyway, she can be dangerous. My agents will keep an eye on her.” He snorted after a few seconds, trying to find an argument, but failing.

At that moment, you gave him a little smile, proud of yourself and what you had accomplished. “See you at dinner?”

“Sure.” He replied without being able to help but give you a small smile in return. “But I'll pick the place.”

“Well, that's an argument I'll let you win.” You put your phone back in your bag and took a couple of steps towards the door, stopping when you saw him coming after you. “Can I kiss my opponent?”

“This is pretty unprofessional.” He said, putting a hand on your waist and leaning you against the door. Without hesitation, he kissed you firmly on the lips.

After a few minutes, the two of you walked out of the office as if nothing had happened, and the professional scene continued. Your heels clicked towards the exit with your client at your side, while Aaron met with his team, trying to find new ways to solve the case and refine the profile. The only problem was that he happened to be working with people who were very detail-oriented.

And, gosh, it was impossible not to notice the traces of your lipstick on his lips.

[georgiapeach30513]

How I'm Looking at You, Part 3

Summary: it's becoming too much, and you're learning so much.

Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, first orgasm, jealousy, fingering, dry humping, mild imagines of breeding kink, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 7.8K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

Taking a deep breath, you lift another spoonful of the coffee soup to your lips before letting the spoon fall back in the glass with a clash. Eyes going wide as you read through the words quickly, and turn the page. The English are a different breed of people, but you have found yourself more and more immersed in their literature. Getting to a better stopping point, you dip a piece of the bread in the soup, and look towards Ari.

He’s staring directly at you. Those crystal blue eyes of his rakes over your face curiously as if he’s studying you. As if you are the most interesting thing in the world. An abandoned newspaper beside his breakfast, but how could you be more interesting than whatever was in that?

Clearing your throat, you turn your gaze back to the book, and read nothing. You can still feel his warm and curious eyes as you try to breathe. Just breathe. Going to the swimming hole has lit something in you. Something deep within your body, and it is purely physical. You want him. You want him like the characters in your books, and that just brings on even more questions.

Questions that have you fearing their answers. Was Ari even aware of the books he had given you to read? Was that his plan all along? Because there is something stirring, and you don’t know how to deal with it. Between him and what you’re reading it’s becoming too much. It fizzles lower than your belly, and you have a feeling that Ari is the only one that can fix it.

Ari shifts in his chair, and you look over towards him. If he wants your attention, he can have a bit of it. You’re almost too embarrassed and scared to give him your full attention. “I want to apologize for the other day?”

“Apologize?” You ask a bit confused. What exactly is he apologizing for? And why was the fact that he was apologizing and admitting he did something wrong — desirable? Men around here were right, and you were just to accept it.

“For the swimming hole,” you nod once, your vision turning to an odd scratch in his table. Your father would have already had that buffed out. “I think things got a bit heated, and if I crossed the line, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t. Not really,” you gulp as you try and find the words. These books have been giving you so many new words that you aren’t sure if you can or should put them into a sentence. But there is one thing that seems to be common amongst the women, “It’s just so fast. And it’s overwhelming and I don’t know how to deal with what I’m feeling,” that didn’t sound too bad.

“What exactly are you feeling?” He adjusts his seat. Putting his forearms onto the table, while he leans forward. Giving you more attention than anyone else ever has, “If you’re comfortable,” you shake your head quickly, and he smiles. He has a pretty smile. A smile that you can feel radiate all the way to your toes, and that makes no sense at all.

“We should go swimming again,” you look at him, a smile creeping up on your face. “If-if you want to, that is. I can get you a bathing suit, and you can feel free to ask me anything. I could be like an open book, if you will.”

“Anything?” He whispers out, yes, and you let those words sink a moment before nodding, and picking your book back up. You read a paragraph about fifteen times without even absorbing what the words mean. But you have to quit looking at him. You have to keep him off your mind, while you try not to explode.

Anything. Anything that you can come up with, he’s willing to answer. You need to gather your thoughts, and think about what you would like to ask him. What if you irritated him to the point that he didn’t want to answer questions anymore? You had to make these questions count for something.

Ari is a strange character. He’s intense in ways that your community isn’t. Here the men just had a stern hand. They walked around being able to do what they wanted to because they were men. They just had to stick to the Amish ways, or at least not get caught. Judging by the church service over the weekend, people are having the same thoughts about you.

You could hear the whispers, and the backwards glances. Gossiping is a sin. Ari is your friend though. He doesn’t talk about you, he talks with you. A worldly man, and he gave you his undivided attention, and even his touches.

And why shouldn’t you be friends with Ari? It’s not like you’re doing something you shouldn’t be. You’re enjoying time with him, and learning from him. That’s more like a teacher. Except — Ari doesn’t look anything like the teachers you grew up with. He’s tall, large, and thick, and he makes your body ache in weird ways. You’re sure he’s not feeling the same way as you, so it’s best to keep these feelings suppressed.

But these stupid books are not helping. There’s something within them that just makes sense. They’re answering and describing a lot of things you’ve been feeling, but how does one know if your teacher is feeling the same way? How do you know if Ari is just as much of a knotted up mess as you are?

“So,” Ari starts, whatever his train of thought was, depleting. He’s not usually one to be shy, that’s typically you.

“What?” Laying your book down, you smile up at him. “Ari, what is it?”

“If I ask, you have to promise to not get mad,” now what is he up to that would make you get mad?

“I thought we were friends?”

“Yes!” His shout makes you flinch, and you giggle at your silly reaction. “I’m sorry, but yes, we’re friends. And I’m only trying to help you out. I took a guess at…your size of bra.”

“Oh,” your eyes fall back to the table. You had read about bras. There’s no way that the scratch on the table are as exciting as you’re making it. But looking at Ari is almost painful, “You know everything I wear, I’ve made myself, right?”

Ari inhales deeply, his own eyes looking at the odd mark on the table now. He actually didn’t know that, and now he fears he’s overstepped his boundaries. You like to think the scratch resembles an upside down J, but more rounded instead of a straight like. “Do you know what a bra is?”

“Essentially, yes. But,” your cheeks flare up with embarrassment, but you refuse to let this be another moment of trying to run away from him. It’s all you feel you’re doing, running away. You stand your ground of being present with him. “I don’t wear one.”

“Do you want to? Or have I gone too far??”

The women in the books all wear bras, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to experience some of the moments in the books. Unable to answer, you just nod your head. “Do you know how to put one on?”

“I think I can figure it out. Were you about to offer to help me?” This is very much the flirting that the books talk about. His crooked little grin goes wider across his face, and his cheeks flame up. Turning rosy while you can’t stop smiling. It feels good not to be the only one that has this rumbling in your stomach.

“I may have,” his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath. “I got you some panties, and they had a matching set with the bras, and…I don’t know, I figured you might like them? They’d be pretty on you,” He’s thoughtful, if not a shameless flirt. But still it feels nice to be seen, and thought of. “I’ve heard that it can make a woman feel sexy even if nobody sees it.”

Ugh, that gross feeling settles in your craw. Anger is not becoming of an Amish woman, but this doesn't feel like anger. It feels disgusting, and it hurts. You can nearly feel it blooming outwardly in your body, and you only want him to see you in your underwear. Nobody else. You want him to stop talking about other women, even if he’s had them. You want to be the only woman on his mind.

“Maybe they can show you what it looks like then?” His brow cocks up, and you push your chair back with a loud squeak. “I think it’s time for you to get to work.”

“Are you — jealous?” His words halt you in your tracks as you purse your lips. “Darling, there is no other woman in my life but you.”

“But there was, and I don’t much like hearing about them,” of course he couldn’t understand the feeling. You are pure, while he has had others.

“They were in the past, and…”

“And did they show you their panties as well?” He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. Contemplating the best way to proceed. “I see. I’m assuming they also have mated with you.”

“You are jealous,” his words are flat, and if they were mocking you, you might not feel as angry as you do right now. “There’s nothing to be jealous about.”

“How can I be something I don’t even understand what it means? Ari, you should really go outside, and start your chores for today, while I start mine,” what you really want is for him to leave you alone while you’re left with the debilitating thoughts that won’t stop pounding through your mind.

He sighs, pushing his chair back as he goes to stand. Staring at you while you look at anything that isn’t him. The burning sting that you feel oozes into you, and makes you feel weak and filthy. You hate it, and you hate when he does that to you.

“You’re right, Darling. I’m sorry,” what he’s apologizing for, you aren’t sure, but it doesn’t fully quell the sludge bubbling in your stomach. “I figured the bedroom upstairs could be yours,” that came from nowhere. You study him as he fights for the words to say next.

“Maybe you should look in the drawers. You’re doing a great job here, and I can’t thank you enough. Take some time off today,” you start to object. Blubbering through words, but his calloused finger presses up against your pouty lips, and you’re stunned into submission.

You look up at him through your lashes, feeling smaller than you actually are. He’s massive. His size always seems to make you feel like a child. “There’s less to do here because it’s just me. As your employer, I am telling you to take it easy today. Do I make myself clear?” Your throat is dry, almost on the verge of hurting as you nod your head. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer, so what are you supposed to do? Continue to argue and lose? No. You’ll just accept his warning.

“Everything in that room is yours,” he says with finality as he stalks to the door, and out for the day.

You’re left reeling. Playing over every word said this morning while you try and figure out all that is happening. Big strong Ari makes you very weak in the knees, and wet. That’s what the books say, and that is what you feel. The books have a perfect way of explaining the things that are going on in your hidden areas.

These feelings you can’t explain, but the books do. But what they suggest to take care of those feelings seems forbidden. Gathering up your current book, you lift your skirts a bit as you walk up the stairs. Counting each one on the way up. Fifteen. Fifteen steps until you reach the top landing.

Journeying down the hallway, you stop and take a peek in the first room. Ari’s. He actually made the bed today, but didn’t close his drawers all the way. He told you not to work today, but you can’t let those drawers stay open, so you take a few steps to it, and close them. Looking out the window you see him squinting up at the house before he smiles, and looks back at Jacob and the other two boys.

He saw you in his room. You had no business being in here, and you wonder if he’s going to punish you for not listening to him. It didn’t matter. What’s done is done, and you’ll accept whatever punishment he deems fit. You’ll just go to your room, as Ari called it.

It’s prettier than his. Showing oddly feminine furniture that are a bit too decorative to be Amish, but you like them. Love them actually. Love the way the intricate golden vines sprawl out over the sturdy wood, but it’s inside that has got you curious. You walk over to the window, and see Ari smiling at you again. Tipping his hat before you close the curtains.

Is he watching you? Waiting to see what you think of this bedroom? Or even what’s in the closet and drawers? Which makes you wonder, what exactly is in there. Opening the door to the closet, you take a step back as your eyes flick over the frocks. So many colors. And fabrics. Tags on them let you know that they weren’t made by someone, but you adore them all the same.

Pulling out on dress, you flatten it over your body, and turn to look at a floor length mirror, that definitely isn’t Amish. Vanity is a sin. But peering into the looking glass you get the appeal. You run your fingers over the lavender material as you swish around. Trying to get a feel of what it would look like on your body before you lay it on the bed.

You should try it on. But first where are the bras, those sets, that Ari spoke about. You go to the dresser, and open up a drawer. Smiling when you see the multitude of colors and materials in there. They were beautiful. It’s one thing that truly bothered you about your community, they want to praise God because of the beauty he created, while you are left to mope around in drab tones.

Don’t bring attention to oneself. But this would be under your clothes and only you and Ari would know. These are things you would be proud to show him, and even tell him how pretty they make you feel. You choose a pretty pale pink set. The bottoms have a bit less material than what you have been wearing. But the top looks so fresh and light that you need it on your skin. And then you can try on the dress.

Maybe even show Ari, and ask what he thinks. You stare at yourself in the mirror as you put the pieces on. Spinning and turning to admire the way they fit on your body. How they hug your curves, and lift your breasts. Your fingers tickle over the cups, and your body jerks back at the sensation. That…that was a lot for very little effort. It’s only partially of how Ari makes you feel. He has you wound so tight that it’s sometimes difficult to breathe.

He makes you feel like your skin is on fire. That your blood is so hot and boiling that it physically turns your body into a furnace. Every time. The serious tone, and the way he looks at you with those pouting eyes. The intensity you feel between the two of you swells, and you need something. The books make that something seem easy, but the way you feel, and what you have been taught is anything but simple. It’s a sin. A loathsome and filthy sin. But why does his smile and touch make you feel good?

It’s something that could get you shunned out of your community. Something that nobody even talked about. It’s to be had, but kept secret. You’ve read enough in the books to know it’s not just breeding, although that seems to be a colorful time. But a pleasure that takes you out of your body and puts you into an out of body experience. You just had to ask Ari a few things about parts, and what they actually mean, and do. Maybe you’d ask him to go back to the swimming hole. You could have a picnic dinner planned, and you are not going to run away. You’re going to force yourself to stay, and learn.

“Fuck,” you hear an angry growl coming from the front door, and make your way down the stairs. His arms flail around on the porch as he removes his shirt. Legs dancing around and stomping on the shirt before he comes inside.

Welts form on his body as he starts swatting his thick chest, and you rush to him, “Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his words stop immediately when he sees you. Sorrowful for saying that word in front of you, but the pain overtakes him as he groans, swatting at his chest again.

“Your hurt,” that much is obvious as you look over his skin. “Let me wash my hands. Yellow jackets?”

“Yeah,” his voice is strained as he follows you into the kitchen. “What do I need to do?” You give him a point to the chair, and he follows your lead. Mixing up a little concoction, you grab a towel, and kneel between his legs.

Your soft and delicate hands move over his ample chest. Stopping on each welt to make sure you remove every stinger. You can’t look up at him, but feel his eyes never leave yours, “What happened?”

“I was actually plowing, and ran right into a nest. There’s none on my back. They got in the front of my shirt, Darling,” he wants to plead to you not to get off your knees. To stay there while he has the most intrusive impure thoughts about you. You gulp, reaching up to the table, and grab your little bowl.

“It may sting a bit,” whispering as you press a hand on his broad chest. His heart is beating just as fast as yours, an he leans back, so you can lift up off your haunches. Forgetting what it is you’re supposed to be doing as you watch the rise and fall of his body. He’s beautiful, and it’s suffocating to think about how close you are. How you can still feel the heat of the sun on his skin.

“What is that?” He asks with a smile, and you remember what it is you’re supposed to be doing. Gathering up a little bit of the paste, you smooth it over the first sting, and he hisses. Everything in your body buzzes as you rub it into another sting. “Darling? You okay?”

No, you’re not, but you nod because it’s the safest thing as you spread out the salve right beside his nipple. Your eyes roll up to meet him, and you freeze. The way he is staring at you seems just right. Your body is on fire, but it doesn’t feel sinful. “I-i-i-it’s meat tenderizer,” you sound like the girls who have a boy courting them, and you can’t make the silliness stop.

“What?” The rumble of his chuckle vibrates straight to your core, and you clench your thighs together trying to make it stop. How does a laugh send sensations there? Everything Ari does makes the central area of your body fill with need. Feel the need for him to do something. Anything.

“It works, doesn’t it?” There’s heat coursing through you to Ari. Spreading between the two of you, and you can’t make things move. Your hands fall to his thighs, and you whimper at the feeling of the cords of muscle that make up the majority of him. He’s big everywhere. You just know it. The books said as much, but you don’t dare ask a question about those areas.

His mouth turns up into a soft grin as he leans forward. Inching closer and closer to you, and you’re immobilized, but not by fear. Whatever is happening you pray that it happens faster. The way that your body bends into his, curving at your back, and you look up at him.

Ari licks his lips, and lifts a hand under your chin. Holding you in place, and placing you how he wants you. His lashes splay over his cheeks as he takes a quick glance to your lips before closing his eyes, and you copy his movements. Primed and ready for his lips to brush softly against yours, and he intakes a long breath before you pucker out your own, and he gently and tenderly presses against your plump lips.

His tongue tickles on the pillows of your mouth, and they part on their own accord. Your taste buds are assaulted with the tangy taste of tea. Trying to taste more, your tongue darts out, tasting his tongue, and those thick arms wrap around your body, lifting you higher up. Swallowing every shallow breath, and every whimper that escapes you.

The two of you melt into one another. Nothing has ever felt like this, and that fuzzy feeling spreads in your belly. No lower. “Ari,” you say his name breathlessly as he gulp for air. Your lungs pain with the wide spread of oxygen, and you still hunger for Ari. He pulls you up into his lap. Refusing to remove his mouth from you, and his hands explore the curves that your dress always hides.

Kissing from your lips, down to your jaw as your body starts to rock into him. Movements you’ve never made before, and you want more. He takes his mouth to your neck, giving the sensitive column a little nibble, and you yip. Mewling out his name, and he smiles on your skin, “You like that?”

You don’t have time to ask him to make the buildup inside of you stop because the front door slings open, and booming steps walk towards the kitchen, “Ari, you…” you stand up quickly from his lap, and smooth down your skirts, shamefully looking away from Jacob. Your whole body spinning around while Ari sits in the chair nonchalantly with his legs spread wide. Both arms rest on his legs, while his hands hang over his crotch. Hiding the effect you had on him.

“Are you okay?” Jacob looks between the two of you, and you walk over to the empty sink. Staring into the porcelain like your vision can manifest dirty dishes. Don’t look at him. Don’t speak to him. He is Amish, and you’re now alone with two men. “I came to check on you. Jedidiah said you came in here cursing up a storm. We don’t like to hear such things, but for the women, especially.”

“Jacob, I’m fine. Um…meat tenderizer, does the trick every time,” Jacob looks between the two of you as Ari stands from the chair. Towering over Jacob, “Don’t barge into my house. Okay?”

“Was she…?”

“She was tending to my stings, and now I feel brand new. I’ll meet you back outside,” Jacob’s dark green eyes look over to your back, and you keep staring at the overly clean sink. Why did you have to be so sufficient? “I’ll be out shortly, Jacob.”

The boy gives a nod to Ari, and reluctantly walks away. Trying to think of any kind of scenario that could explain the quick movement that he witnessed. But Ari can only think of you. Slowly he walks over to your side, and his hand rests under chin, and he turns you to look at him, while his thumb grazes over your kiss-swollen lips.

His thoughts are only on your embarrassment and questions you have to be having right now. “Darling, what happened isn’t wrong.”

“I know, it doesn't feel wrong, it feels forbidden, and private,” he wishes there was a way to make you not feel so much guilt, but you are hardwired that way. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but he doesn’t know the words to say to reassure you of that. He wants you to know that what he feels for you is beyond just the physical part. That he has a need to take care of you.

The only reason he’s even entertaining this place still is because of you. He can’t say all that. Can’t say that he wants to pick you up, and set you on the counter while he lifts up your skirts, and worships you between your thighs. Fuck everyone’s small minded thoughts in this community because you deserved to be respected, loved, and cherished. And above all feel pleasure without shame.

“Ari, I can’t stop feeling funny around you.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know?” How does one explain that you what you want with him is what is going on in the books? You didn’t even know what was going on in the books. You know there are wifely duties to her husband, but you didn’t know if that’s how a wife surrendered to her husband. The women in the books receive pleasure and compliments beyond your wildest imaginations. The women here bore children. There seems to be a difference there.

“Try to explain it?”

“It feels fuzzy, and I want something that I don’t even know what it is. And I want,” you bite your lip, and Ari wants to drop to his knees. He knows that would be too much right now. But you need the edge to be taken off of you.

“Did — did you enjoy the kiss?”

“Maybe too much.”

“Why do you say that?”

You stare up at him, eyes darting all around his ridiculously handsome face, and try to think of the words that won’t embarrass you. No one has ever talked to you about kissing, or even how it would make you feel. All you know is from the books. The men in those books seem to understand, and like it.

“It’s just that arousal has pooled in my core,” his eyes go wide, and he looks towards your belly. He’s speechless. His hand grips onto the counter, knuckles whitening, and his hip juts out. You hear him audibly counting, although it’s barely spoken. “You should go back outside.”

“I should take you swimming, and have some privacy with you,” he wants to take his time with you. Lavish you with so much attention that you can’t even think straight. The way he wants to spoil you with pleasures beyond your wildest imagination.

“It’s not an actual pool,” he blows out a slow bit of air, while you try to understand what he’s thinking. It isn’t about where he takes you, it’s just about being alone and uninterrupted.

“I know exactly what is happening to your body,” of course he does because he’s made other women feel like this. You want to scream, and tell him to leave you alone.

“Because there are other women who understood these feelings, and they were more appealing to you. You don’t have to tell me about them every chance you get. Please, Ari, go finish your chores, and I will see you at dinner,” you need to end the conversation, and you begin to spin around, but he grabs ahold of your wrist, “Ari?”

“I’m not walking out that door with you feeling jealous,” you aren’t jealous. You are angry. “There might have been other women, because I wasn’t shunned into thinking that it was a sin, but no woman has ever appealed to me the way you have. No other woman has made me feel as hard as you do,” that phrase. It meant something important. That’s what the books stated. “We’re continuing this conversation at the swimming hole tonight. Don’t worry about dinner. You’re eating English pizza.”

He drops your wrist, and marches out the front door. Picking up his shirt, he shakes it out, making sure the hideous creatures that marred his skin were no longer there. He should have got another one. What did he even mean? Harder — that could only describe one thing. But you’d have to ask Ari exactly what it all meant.

You wring your hands together as you pace around his living room. You had already watched the hired hands leave, and Ari picked up his phone, and dialed a number and was gone. He told you the conversation would continue, and you want it to, but you’re nervous. Nervous about him, or what he thinks. Nervous about you and whatever your body is doing. But you like it. Really like it.

And that kiss, you are swooning so hard. He put his tongue in your mouth just like the books said. And of all the books you read, you couldn’t have been prepared for the actual alarms that went off in your body. How perfect it felt, and just how sparks flew through every limb and ligament, and you felt as if you could fly.

The books didn’t fully prepare or warn you of that. How it felt like there’s fish in your stomach swimming around. Or how you ached, and throbbed in ways you couldn’t explain, so he had to do it. He had to come clean and tell you everything, but how do you start that conversation? You know what you have to do, but you aren’t sure if you have the guts to actually do it.

Could you go through with it? Ari isn’t the average man, and you know he’s not going to fall for your — is this what games are? One book mentioned the games women played. Are you playing games with him? No. You’ve made it clear, you told him what you were feeling, and he wants to continue the conversation. And there are — things that happen in the books. Where the men put their hands, and other things, and they have opened up so many possibilities, and you want to explore them all. You think. So many questions that you need answered.

You jump back a step, and put your hands behind your back as Ari walks in through the door with a box of pizza, his bright eyes looking you up and down before motioning to the kitchen, “Do you want to eat here, or do you want to have a picnic?”

“Picnic. I think you need to cool down, and get the dirt off you,” he nods, and grabs a few sodas from the fridge, and a blanket. He starts to walk out the back door, and you skip off after him. There is a tension in the air that can physically seep through your bones, and you want it smoothed away. You know that he’s not angry with you, he’s just lacking the words to say to you.

Stopping at the swimming hole, you grab the blanket from him, and lay it out on the ground, and he places the drinks and pizza down. He tugs at his shirt, until it’s thrown onto the blanket, and you watch his muscles ripple, and he’s kicking off his boots, and yanking his pants down. Standing in front of you like the giant he is. “Are you going to join me?”

“Nobody comes out here?” He shakes his head no, starting to walk backwards to the river, and you gulp. Reaching towards your buttons, before dropping your hands. Your eyes scan over the location before you tell yourself this is what they do in the books, and you like Ari, and want to feel the way those women did.

Your fingers tremble as they undo each button one at a time, and you let your dress fall to the ground. Ari’s boxer briefs tighten instantly as he stares at your backside. The cute bikini cut of your panties having a bit of your asscheeks hanging out. The soft pink color sitting on your skin like it was painted on there.

And then you turn around with your arms covering your top. You are wearing one of the matching sets he got you. “I can’t see anything you don’t want me to see,” timidly you peel your arms away, and walk towards the river. He stands up, walking closer, and you yip. He’s bigger, like he was before. He holds up his hand and you take it, so he can assist you in the water, and get a bit more coverage than before.

“You look beautiful,” he can’t help the way his eyes move all over every bit of exposed skin.

“Vanity is a sin,” keeping you covered was the sin.

“And I’m no angel,” you knew that to be true. He was both holy and unholy. A twinge of guilt pangs in your chest, as you glance between the two of you.

“How do they fit?”

“Hmm?” He shakes his head, meeting your eyes again. He has to focus if he wants this conversation to go anywhere. But the way your nipples are pressing against that thin material has him ready to blow a loud immediately. The fabric already see through with the moisture, and it’s pointless now. You should just remove it.

“My panties. Did they fit well?”

“Yeah,” he answers dopely, and you glance away with your cheeks setting on fire. The heat spreads throughout your body, as you stare at him through the crystal clear water. He’s even bigger. And your body longs to feel him against you again.

“Remember when you told me if ever I have any questions, you’d answer?” He gives you a nod. Letting his mouth sink below water, he swims and floats all around you like a shark with his meal for the night. Circling you like his prey, while you try to find a less blatant way to ask a question.

Him surrounding you just lights everything on fire. Like your blood is lava, and even the cold river isn’t stopping it. Things are happening to you that you didn’t understand, and even if you’re overwhelmed, you don’t hate it. You want to understand it, and want to know how to quell it.

“I guess first things first,” you inhale deeply, looking at him, and unable to take your eyes away. It’s like he needs you as much as you need him, and that doesn’t even make sense. “What’s a cock?”

So much happens in such a short time. Ari inhales before his mouth can get out of the water. Choking and sputtering on the water that he sucked into his lungs, and you’re able to maneuver yourself in front of him, and you grab his face, trying to get him to calm before you sink under water. Forgetting that you can’t swim because Ari is in trouble.

He lifts you up, bringing you straight onto his body, and his eyes capture yours. You feel both of your heartbeats in the most bizarre places as he clings to you. Those thick hands splay a bit too low on your back, to the point it isn’t really just your back. He’s so big. “What did you say?”

“A cock. What is it? It’s not like a rooster, obviously.”

“I think it’s better for me to show you,” you asked the question, and he couldn’t help his slimy little comment to come out. He’d show you his cock whenever you want him to. He wants to make an offer if you see it, you have to taste it.

“What does that mean?” Holding you with one arm, he pulls your hand, placing it on his swollen underwear. You whimper as you look into his eyes, and his hand flattens on yours, guiding you to massage his bulge. “And that’s — what goes in me?” How is that ever going to fit anywhere on you?

“What?”

“And that’s where the cum is from. Mmm,” your eyes look through the water, watching your hands as it palms his cock. “Can I see it? Is this how fucking works? Your cock goes into my cunt, and you shoot your cum into my belly. Would you want to see the cum leak out of me? I have so many questions, and you’re not answering, you’re just moaning. What do you taste like?”

“You’re killing me,” no you weren’t. In the books, this is what the men wanted the women to do. They wanted to fuck them deep and hard, and fuck their mouth. This is what men want. “Where are you getting all these words from?”

“The books. So, if you’re not in your underwear, how big is your cock. And what’s my cunt…oh my,” your eyes roll into the back of your head as his hand cups your covered mound, and you bite at your lip. Both of you rubbing each other, and it still doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Like something is missing. “What is fucking then?”

“You probably shouldn’t say that around your community. That’s a very bad word, and you’re such a naughty girl. But if you really want to know what fucking is, we got to start by stretching. Can I touch you under the panties?” He’s never prayed before this moment, but he prays you say yes. All this conversation has done is create a need to feel you from the inside.

“What?”

“It’s easier for me to show the true function of your cunt, if I can go inside of you,” you moan. Your body curves more into him, bringing your core right to his cock. Your body needs to be fucked, but you deserve to have someone make passionate love with you.

“Like finger fucking? Fingering, right? You’ll scissor your fingers inside of me, so you can stretch me out? Yes, can you show me?” His pinky moves aside your panties, and when his bare hands touch you, the moan you let out doesn’t even sound human.

“Shh, you’ve got so much repressed sexual energy, you’re about to blow before I even touch you. This right here, is your pussy, or as you like to call it your cunt,” you didn’t quite understand. His fingers roam over your split, but they were nothing compared to what you held in your hand. His fingers feel baby like. His cock that you try to wrap your hands around feel otherworldly.

“But this,” his fingers push past through your body, and you feel him in your throat. Pressing your forehead against his, and you can no longer hold his cock as you let his fingers roam around inside of you. It didn’t make any sense, and even though you know it will be frowned upon, this pleasure is too good to give up. “This beautiful hole, is your pussy. But…”

Ari’s mouth falls open as you succumb to the pleasure. Your mouth agape, and brows furrowed as you just feel him. “If I can make you come, are you going to give your pussy to me?”

“What’s coming?” he adds a second finger, and you raise your body off him a bit. The stretch is much more intense, and the fullness is mind-blowing. This is what going dumb means. There’s no thoughts, just the way that Ari is making you feel, but also how he feels inside of you. Like he belongs there. A thumb presses down on your entrance, and the sounds that flow out of your mouth make Ari moan.

“I can’t explain coming, you’ll just know. This is your clit,” his thumb circles around the little bean, and your body jumps around. You didn’t believe in magic, but if you did, it belonged in Ari’s fingertips. Your body starts rolling into him, lifting your drenched tits out of the water.

The fabric of your bra is too thin, and your nipples protrude out. If you think you’re overwhelmed, he’s a dead man. His eyes don't know what to look at. He wishes he could see his fingers dragging in and out of your heavenly pussy. Desires nothing more than to see your tits free and bouncing around as he fucks his fingers into you. But it isn’t until he feels your walls flutter, around that he just stops and enjoys what he sees.

Eyes closing tightly as he drives in harder. Faster. Curling his fingers, he hits a tender spot that takes all thoughts away. Tight circles on your clit. Everything working in harmony. Until the dam breaks, and you are gasping and panting for air. Unable to open your eyes, he lets your cunt relax around him before he pulls out his fingers, placing them directly into his mouth where he can suck off your diluted juices.

“That’s coming,” he’s so proud at how well you took him. How beautiful and perfect you looked as you came undone, and he wants to see it again. And again.

“So different from cum. Will you show me your cum?” You are trying to murder him. There’s no other way around this. You are saying all the innocent and filthy things that come to your mind, and he wants you to partake in everything. Whatever books you’re reading, he’ll buy you five thousand more, just so you continue to stay curious for him.

“I’ll paint you with my cum if that’s what you need. But, you just had your first orgasm. I think it’s time for us to eat. Maybe you can show me your pussy outside of the water,” you take some staggered breaths before you open your eyes, looking at him confused.

“But it’s your pussy now,” fuck, he says in his head, and your staring at him seriously. “But how does a cock feel going inside?”

“Not a cock,” you don’t understand. That’s what the books say. “My cock. But not today. I bet that was your first kiss today wasn’t it?” You nod your head. It’s not something that’s done. Things like that are for marriage. And you’d assume whatever his fingers were doing earlier is as well.

“And there’s other lips I can kiss that’ll make you feel even better,” Ari gives your sweet little cunt a few taps with his palm, and the way you look at him so sweetly and whisper please has things on overdrive. He maneuvers you to his front. Coaxing your legs to wrap around his waist as he grinds you on him. “Just like this. You feel how hard you made me?”

“Yeah,” you struggle to get out. “You’re so — big.”

“And you’ll learn to take every inch of me. I’ll have you stretched out so wide around my cock, and you’re going to beg for me to go harder. You’re such a sweet girl, but you want to be my filthy little slut, huh?” In the past you’ve heard those words in such negative terms. But when Ari calls you his, it has you melting into him. Arching your back, you see his eyes go to your breasts.

“You’ll suck on my pebbled peaks, too?”

“Darling, I’ll suck on every part of your body,” whimpering out his name he moves you over him harder. Grunting, growling, and deep breathing. He watches you. You’re about to get off again, and it’s a shame he can’t see your body glistening with his cum that’s about to blow all over your virgin pussy.

“Darling, I’m a sucker for you. You ready?” You nod your head excitedly as he crashes his lips into yours. He devours your moans, gifting you with his own. Creating waves in an otherwise steady river with your movements, until you feel the most beautiful warmth spurt against your skin. “That’s what you fucking do to me. I’ve never came like that before.”

He pants as he looks over your face. Your eyes are wide as they watch him. “It may be a sin, Darling, but you’re worth it,” and you think he’s worth it, too. There’s no way these Amish men could ever be so vulgar with you. It’s depraved, and you sink even further into his hell with him. Your purity be damned because you know it belongs to him.

“I think the books my sister suggested for me to get are complete and utter trash. But you keep reading, and figure out what you like. Write it down. Maybe one day I’ll not only fuck you, but fuck my cum inside of your cunt so deep, that…” he stops, what the fuck was he saying? He’s never desired for children. But the thought of you filled to the brim with his cum, and watching it drip out of you has him reeling. The thought of fucking you everyday before you go home thrills him. Have you walking around with a used pussy, and nobody knows that he took your virtue. They didn’t deserve you.

He has visions of you taking him every way possible. Sobbing out his name while he has his seed dripping out of you. But it isn’t enough. That is just for him. The lips of your pussy swollen from how hard he fucks you will be just for him. But your belly swollen and full of him, nobody could deny. He would have you and nobody else could. He’d have to save you and take you away from this disgusting place. And this is just crazy.

“But, refrain from talking about fucking, and my cock and that beautiful little pussy. Let’s keep it to just us. If you do, I’ll make sure you get to come on my cock.”

“Do I get to taste it?”

“Fuck,” he sighs. You want to try it all, and are eager, and scared, and timid, and it makes it that much more satisfying. Your little bit of jealousy ignited something inside of him. You wanted him just as much as he wanted you, and the thought of him fucking some other woman made you angry. No, it pissed you off. Made you all bratty and snippy. He wanted to push you to your knees, and shove his cock past those pouty lips to remind you the only person that is making his dick wet is you.

“Darling, the first time I come inside of you, I’ll gather the leaking cum with my cock, and let you suck it off. Two holes will be filled with me,” it sounds so — you can’t even think of words. You just know that the books and Ari are your undoing. But once that door is opened, can it fully be closed?

You had Ari inside of you, and you craved more. Addiction is a sin, but Ari was worth sinning for.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @rogersbarber @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @patzammit

@theolivia-graham @steviebbboi @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @kandis-mom

[munsons-melody]

flinch

summary: you flinch during a fight with eddie

pairing: eddie x female!reader

cw: angst w a fluffy ending, thoughts of abuse

word count: 1.5k words

a/n: wrote this v quickly so it’s not really proofread or anything. i could’ve done it better but i’ve been soo busy :/ might rewrite later

masterlist

i do not consent to having any of my works republished, translated, or posted to any other site except here. if you see my works anywhere but tumblr, it has been republished without my knowledge, consent, or permission.

—

you were in eddie's trailer, wayne had just left for work 10 minutes ago, and already you were in some silly little fight with eddie which you didn't expect to escalate how it did

"it's just sometimes guitar players think they're better than everyone else" you stated and eddie rolled his eyes, taking it as a personal jab to his skills

"okay but they almost make the band" he responded from the kitchen, hearing the clank of dishes as the water ran from the faucet

"okay but most of the time they are just assholes who just care about the sex, drugs, and rock n roll life style" you shrugged

"so you think i'm an asshole?" he responded back with a sharp tone and you shook your head

"no i'm talking about the people like mick mars who are so doped up and sleep with hundreds of women and just act like a douchebag" you said with a matter of fact tone

"well it kinda sounds like you're implying that i'm going to turn out like them" he snapped, turning off the water and drying his hands

"no! god no, i'm not saying that! i'm saying once in the spotlight, most people turn into assholes like that" you said, trying your best to stay calm

"so once my band makes it big, you're what- just gonna leave since you think it'll happen to me?" he questioned, turning the corner to meet you in the living room

"of course not! why would you say something like that?" you asked with a louder tone

"well it sounds like that's what you're expecting!" he said, starting to shout

"im not expecting it to happen!" you said, your voice growing to match his

"yeah well i'm pretty sure those 'friends' of yours think it will, they already think i'm in a satanic cult about to sacrifice you" he told you with a sarcastic growl, grabbing some extra dishes he found on the small table to put in the sink

"what the fuck is that about" you asked confused, remembering the party in which you two had met up with a couple of your girl friends but failed to recall them talking about that certain subject

"yeah you didn't hear what they said? we were at that party at steve's house the other night, and they started talking about how i'm some trailer trash wannabe rockstar" he angrily said, flipping on the water to keep working on the leftover dishes from the previous night

"okay first off, i never heard them say anything like that! second, why were you even hanging out with my friends if i wasn't there?" you rebutted, questioning him

"because i was trying to be a caring boyfriend and find you since robin said you looked a little too drunk and i didn't want you to hurt yourself" he snapped back

the volume of the argument kept escalating, which brought knots to your stomach. you hadn't really had fights with eddie and now that you're in one, you badly wanted to go back to how it was

"well i'm sorry i was trying to enjoy myself at the party but also i have never heard them say anything like that before in my life" you told him, starting to pace around, not knowing what else to do

"oh great and now you're defending them, what- do you agree with them?" he asked as you started to pick up empty cans and put them in the bin

"i do not agree with anything they said! but i've known those girls for a good few years now and i know they wouldn't say that about anyone" you tried and he laughed, putting his head down

"you are unbelievable!" he screamed and that's when you didn't care if you started yelling, the anger bubbling up inside you

"oh really so you want to talk about what friends have said about us? okay, well remember that time we were at the hideout and your friend hank said that he liked your other girlfriend before me better and was annoyed that you're whipped for some girl who was less pretty than she was!" you screamed, tears pricking in your eyes

you remembered that moment all too well when hank mentioned how much prettier eddie's ex girlfriend was, and your heart sank but you laughed it off, coming up with some smart comeback to brush off the pieces of your shattered confidence

"that was a joke! you even laughed!" eddie rebutted, slamming a cabinet door shut. you flinched at the loudness of it but he didn't see with his back turned to you

"i only laughed because i was uncomfortable! i didn't know what else to do!" you said, wiping away a tear that fell down your cheek

eddie angrily stomped out of the kitchen to his room and you followed, blinking away tears

"and i also don't exactly remember you defending me and telling him off!" you screamed and he turned to look at you

"because i didn't know you were uncomfortable!" he screamed back, looking around his desk for something

"well you should know from common sense that anyone hearing that would not find it amusing!" your anger was consuming you as you watched eddie throw a shirt from his desk to his bed

"well i guess i'm just not a very good boyfriend then!" he said throwing his arms up in the air

you stepped back, bringing your arms up in a defensive stance as your head turned, somehow expecting there to be an impact from his hand

eddie realized what happened as he stared at you with wide eyed and you slowly moved your head to look at him with your arms still up

you moved your arms down as eddie just stood there in shock, and you moved to wipe a couple more tears of frustration from your face

"y/n... did you think i was going to hit you?" he asked softly, a huge change in tone from what you previously were hearing, his stance deflating

you gulped put a small "no" not wanting him to think that you'd think he'd do such a thing. you knew he would never, but it was a natural reaction that you instantly regretted

"baby i..." he trailed off, taking a small step forward towards you. you didn't move back which he took as a good sign

"you know i would never ever do that to you, right?" he asked, taking another small step forward and putting a hand on your arm which was intertwined with your other arm, folded across your chest

"i know..." you muttered out, moving your head to look away from him, keeping your arms crossed

"can i please hold you?" he asked gently and you nodded, slowly moving your body into his open arms as he wrapped them around you, engulfing you into a giant bear hug

a few more tears fell down as he held you close to his body, and you leaned your head into his chest

"i'm so so sorry for yelling and getting mad, and i'm sorry i didn't defend you when hank said that bullshit, i love you so so so much" he spoke softly, his hand coming up and gently placing it on the back of your head

“and i want you to know that i promise you i would never hit you or do anything of the sort, i’m so sorry you thought that” he said with a shaky voice

"i'm sorry too," you started to apologize, feeling guilt run through your veins from not defending him earlier, and for reacting the way you did

"i didn't realize they said those things, and i know for a fact you aren't going to end up like mick mars or nikki sixx or any of those drug abusing rockstars, well maybe only with the level of rock n roll fame part, not the drugs" you joked with a sniffle

"and what about the sex?" he said with a chuckle, and you moved your body to face him, wrapping his arms around his waist and you moved your eyebrows up in a surprising way, pushing your head back in slight confusion

"you know, sex, drugs, rock n roll- they're a package deal... and obviously there's gonna be no drugs- well okay maybe weed, then a huge amount of rock n roll fame... what about the sex?" he joked making you smile with a small giggle

"well maybe, only if you'll still love and want me when you're big and famous" you told him with a small laugh, a smile growing on his face

"oh baby i will always love you and want you for the rest of my days" he said sweetly before leaning in and giving you a small kiss

when he pulled away he looked into your eyes, a hand moving to the back of your neck

"then show me how much you mean it," you said with a small smirk as he pulled you in for another kiss

he leaned in, kissing you passionately, his tongue fighting with yours as you moved you hands to slightly scratch down his back

"i- love- you" he said between breaths as he continued to kiss you, and you knew he really meant it

fin.

[ijustwant2write]

Reunion Of Sorts-Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader

(GIF credit to @mrsbridgerton)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hi! If your requests are open I'd love to request an Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader where the reader's Simon's sister. Prompts 14 and 15 please? Thank you so much, your works are amazing!’

14) 'It's only good news depending on how you look at it.'

15) 'I just wouldn't have expected this!'

Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Basset!Reader, Simon Basset x Basset!Reader (siblings), Daphne Bridgerton x Reader (platonic), mentions of Bridgerton family

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Warnings: Just extreme fluff!

                                            *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Are you quite alright, (Y/N)?" Simon asked his sister as they journeyed in their carriage.

(Y/N) had started fanning herself a little faster."I don't know why I'm so nervous. I just hope to make a good impression."

"Of course you will. I'm sorry you haven't met them sooner."

"I could have at least met your wife at the wedding, if I had been invited."

"We have been through this, (Y/N)."

"Yes, and I'm not trying to argue with you, Simon. I know you married in haste, and I know why, but you must admit, you've left this far too long. You have a son now!"

"You have been cooped up in that house with your matron as father intended. I think she would have had my head if I tried to get you out of there."

They laughed together.

"Simon?"

"Hm?"

"I am very excited to meet your wife and my nephew."

As usual, the Bridgerton house was abuzz with excitement and chaos. Eloise didn't understand why she had to dress up so much for this visit, Gregory and Hyacinth were bombarding everyone with questions about Simon's sister, Colin and Benedict tried but failed to escape the madness, Anthony watched everything unfold and Daphne nervously bounced her baby boy on her knee.

"Daphne, do not fret. His sister will love you." Anthony tried to reassure his sister.

"What if she's like their father? What if she heard all the rumours about us and judges me for it? Simon has never spoken of her, I have no idea what to expect."

"I met Simon's sister many, many years ago. She was nothing like the things you are dreading. (Y/N) was a lovely, respectable young lady, I'm sure she hasn't changed."

Daphne let a small smile grace her face, trying to convince herself that everything was fine. Simon had kept his family such a secret, she just wanted to ensure that his sister would want to stay and be part of theirs.

Simon playfully rolled his eyes as (Y/N) asked how she looked, not in vain, but in anxiety. Her dress was beautiful, her hair perfectly in place, her jewels glistened but they weren't ghastly, nothing was wrong. Her nerves were getting the better of her. Just as she was about to ask again, the carriage stopped. Simon chuckled at her panicked look, already stepping outside.

He held out his hand for her."You'll be absolutely fine. Just be you."

(Y/N) took a deep breath before taking her brother's hand, being extra cautious to not fall on her face, especially since the entire Bridgerton family were stood on their front steps.

As head of the household, Anthony was ready to start introductions, until (Y/N) lifted her head, showing her dazzling features. He had only admitted to himself that he had a fancy for her when he was younger, though who wouldn't? She was beautiful, smart and didn't try hard to impress anyone; she was just joyful to be around. (Y/N) had never pined for Anthony or tried to grab his attention at every moment, or any man for that matter. He definitely considered her a friend, he was somewhat angry at himself he hadn't written to her over the years. But seeing her now, it was a mystery as to why she hadn't been married yet? That was quickly solved when he remembered Simon was her brother.

Simon stuck beside his sister until Daphne stepped forward. They shared a short but loving kiss, before Simon took their son into his arms, cooing and laughing as the baby gurgled. (Y/N)'s heart melted at the sight.

"Oh, how we've missed you." Violet beamed, greeting her son-in-law.

"I apologise for the delay, the weather was not suitable for travelling. Nevertheless, everyone, this is my sister, (Y/N) Basset."

(Y/N) curtsied as all eyes were on her."Thank you for welcoming me into your beautiful home. I have been so excited to meet you all."

"Well, why don't we go inside? We can have proper introductions in the warm." Daphne hid her nerves, presenting herself well.

Everyone agreed, leading (Y/N) inside. The family lined up like soldiers, with Anthony stepping forward to introduce everyone.

"I hope I don't have to reintroduce myself." he teased.

"Of course not, how could I forget you, Anthony? After all the trouble you and Simon got into?"

He chuckled, but cast a worried look towards his mother. He quickly continued.

"My mother, Violet, sisters Daphne, Eloise and Hyacinth, and my brothers, Benedict, Colin and Gregory."

"And your nephew." Simon added.

(Y/N) reached out a finger for the baby to hold."Yes, he's bigger than I thought he would be."

"Children do grow so fast." Violet said.

"But you're here now to see him grow." Daphne quickly added. "And we're all very happy that you're finally here."

Everyone knew that it was Simon who had kept (Y/N) away. He loved his sister with all his heart, which is why he never saw her; she was living a happy life, he didn't want to dampen that.

"The chefs have prepared a marvelous lunch. The table is all set if you are hungry now?" Voilet asked.

"Oh, yes, as long as everyone else is."

As soon as (Y/N) agreed, Colin, Eloise and the two youngest were off. They were starving, even though they had eaten only a few hours ago. (Y/N) giggled to the relief of the others. They slowly followed behind, but Simon was hesitant. (Y/N) gently nudged him forward.

"Go, see your family. I have all the time in the world to get to know Daphne."

Simon thanked her, still carrying his son as his other arm wrapped around his wife. Another arm appeared in front of (Y/N), ready for her to take it.

"May I escort you to the table?" Anthony said.

"Thank you, I much appreciate it."

They both knew they were being dramatic, though it was sweet of Anthony to make the gesture.

"How many years has it been?"

"Too many."

"I'm sorry your brother hasn't involved you. If the...situation between him and Daphne had been different, I know you would have been here straight away."

"I know. And I understand how stressful that all was. But as said before, I'm here now. I must say Anthony, I have missed you."

"Really? Even after all those times Simon and I riled you?"

"Yes. Although annoying, you both had your tender moments. I remember one evening, you and Simon were returning from your club, and you both had found yourselves in a quarrel with some other members. They followed you home, and I was waiting by the back gate to sneak you back inside. They were closer than expected, and do you remember some of the horrible things they said to me?"

"Unfortunately I do. And I unfortunately remember what happened next."

"It was very chivalrous for you to defend me, though you needn't have fought. Your nose wouldn't stop bleeding!"

"But you were right by my side, holding a handkerchief for me."

"Yes, because if you got blood on the carpets, you would have something worse than a bruised nose."

The pair were laughing to themselves as they walked into the dining room. Most were already seated. Anthony guided (Y/N) to her chair, next to Simon, who stood to tuck it in, but Anthony beat him to it. Simon watched his friend's moves very closely, knowing deep down that Anthony was just being polite; however, he wasn't too fond that they were sat opposite each other, able to gaze into each others eyes.

Simon tapped his glass with a knife once everyone was sat, standing with said glass in his hand."Before we begin eating, I would like to propose a toast."

Everyone immediately grabbed their own glasses, except Eloise, taking her time as she huffed; couldn't they at least toast after the meal?

"To my sister, (Y/N). I am so happy that you're here with me, with us. I'm sorry I haven't been a better brother but that will change now. And I can't wait for you to get to know this loving family, who made me one of their own, as I know they will you."

"To family." Benedict finished.

"To family." Everyone cheered.

"Now the food. Please." Eloise needed a plate in front of her.

All through lunch, Simon kept a close eye on his sister and Anthony. He was awful at keeping up with conversations, slow at eating, he just had a weird feeling when he glanced at them both. Simon constantly apologised to Daphne, blaming the long journey for his daydreaming.

However, Anthony and (Y/N) might as well have been dining at their own table. They were in full conversation, of course others chimed in to join, but they couldn't stop reflecting on the past and laughing. It was impossible to not notice how well they were getting along, and Violet had a glint in her eye as she saw how much Anthony was smiling. He never smiled this much, and the way he was looking at (Y/N) reminded her of how her husband used to look at her.

After dinner, they retired to the drawing room, sipping on fresh lemonade as Hyacinth showed off her new skill on the piano. Simon sat with his child in his lap, Daphne by his side, and although he was thoroughly enjoying the time with his family, he couldn't stop gazing over at his sister.

Unsurprisingly, (Y/N) and Anthony were cosied up, still smiling ear to ear as they continued talking. How could they have so much to talk about?

"Let's put him to bed Simon, for a nap. He's getting fussy." Daphne interrupted his thoughts.

Simon didn't want to cause a scene, agreeing to put their son down together. Even as they left the room, Simon's eyes lingered, and he immediately became tense once they were out of sight.

"Has my brother dazzled you?"

Simon was quiet as he laid down his son."Hm?"

"Well you haven't stopped staring at him all night."

He sighed."Was I that obvious?"

"You were indeed. Would it be so bad?"

"What?"

"Would it be so bad if my brother loved your sister?"

"Daphne-"

"Has he been disrespectful? Has he done her wrong? Has he done anything that we did?"

He was stumped. Although his brotherly instincts were kicking in, wanting to protect (Y/N), realistically he knew Anthony would never hurt her. Anthony was trustworthy, he knew him inside out and just from tonight, there was something there.

Simon didn't reply, but Daphne knew he wasn't ignoring her. She could see him thinking it all over as he walked to the window.

"It's only good news depending on how you look at it."

"I know, but it will be fine-"

"No, look!"

Daphne quickly joined her husband at the window, trying to see what he was looking at. Down in the gardens was Anthony and (Y/N) taking a stroll. The pair were lit by the setting sun which was casting a beautiful orange and pink glow across the garden. Although they had not stopped talking through the afternoon, now they were silent, both silently worrying that the other had no more to say.

"(Y/N)-"

"Anthony-"

The spoke at the same time, pausing for a moment before laughing. Anthony said nothing, being a gentleman and letting (Y/N) speak.

"I was just going to say how much I have enjoyed our time together. It feels as if no time has passed since the last time I saw you."

"How long will you stay?"

"Sorry?"

"Well, are you staying for a short visit? Or perhaps an extended time?"

"Simon and I have not discussed that as of yet. I am to be staying with a friend of mine who lives in the Ton, so I shall be here for a little while."

Anthony couldn't help but smile."Good, that is good news."

They were quiet again as they continued walking, only taking small steps as they wee nearing the end of the garden. They were standing close to one another, and although they had linked arms before and been sat on the plush sofas, this held more tension. Perhaps it was the way neither of them wanted to startle the other, despite their desperate want for affection. As their minds drifted off to where this was leading, their hands ever so delicately brushed. Both were startled, halting their steps and looking at each other.

"My apologies-"

"Anthony, it's fine. I...I just wouldn't have expected this."

Anthony thought for a moment, glancing down at their hands that were no longer close. He didn't like it. He wanted to be bold and take the next step, even if it was just holding one another's hand. But this was Simon Basset's sister. And it was (Y/N), who he had the upmost respect for.

"Miss Basset?"

"Anthony, why are you calling me that?"

"May I enquire into the address of your new lodgings?"

"Yes? Why?"

"So that I may call on you in the morning?"

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

Home || N.K ||

Nanami Kento isn't sure how he ended up here, in this happy little kitchen.

A small content smile is settled on his face as he watches you, the love of his life, move about your shared kitchen, in your shared house.

Beside him, Gojo, who had invited himself and his first year students over at his place, was talking to him. The man was as animated as ever, and although Kento is listening, his full focus isn't in the action. Part of it is on you, like it always is.

Naturally, you and Yuuji have hit it off easily. The kid was naturally extroverted after all, and you warmed up quickly to him. You seem to get along with Nobara as well. Currently, the two of them are bantering about something, while you watch, amused. You and Megumi already know one another. You've met the very first time Megumi had been dragged to Jujutsu Tech by Gojo, and you've always been sweet to him.

Usually, Kento would join you in the kitchen. Neither of you could get along with anyone else in the confines of the kitchen space, but the two of you never had any issue, often wordlessly throwing something together to eat.

What he does know for certain, is that all of this is thanks you to you.

February, 2008

" You- what?" 

Nanami Kento is staring down at you with wide eyes. You're a year below him, and your question has completely caught him off guard.

" I'm- I'm asking you on a date!"

Those were not the words you previously used Originally, you had asked for his number. You don't seem to back down, your pretty eyes blinking up at him as you eagerly wait for his answer.

Meanwhile Kento still can't comprehend it. You like him? Of all students around? Him? 

Kento blinks, his mouth slightly open as he takes your words in. He's seen you around before. You were a fierce little thing. You were amazing in hand to hand combat (apparently due to your unique upbringing) and your cursed energy seemed to materialize in very real flames. You were pretty too, he finally noted. He likes your eyes, and the shape of your face, lips. The piercings in your ears were cool too.

He hadn't expected this, and it seems like he forgot to answer as you lean away from where you had been boldly leaning into his personal space, cocking your head with a pout on your lips.

" It's fine if you don't like me, you know? You don't need to feel forced to go on a date with me. It's alright if you don't want to. I can handle rejection."

" No- I- I just.. didn't expect it.- But yes, I'll go on a date with you." 

He smiles slightly at you, a blush on his face. Truly, he has no idea what you're seeing in him. In his own eyes, he's much too skinny to be considered attractive enough to be boldly asked out like this. Especially by someone as pretty as you. However, he doesn't complain, blushing as he types his number in your phone.

-

The date doesn't happen. At least, not for a long time. It was supposed to happen, but then him and Haibara are sent on a mission, a few cities away.

Currently, he's sat in his room. It's been a few days since he's back, but he can't sleep. He doesn't want to close his eyes, afraid of reliving the moment over and over again.

Sighing, he gets out of bed. He doesn't feel bothered enough to change out of his pajamas. Instead, he puts on some slippers, and heads out of the dorms in favor of some fresh air.

It's late on a weekday, so he doesn't expect anyone to be awake right now.

He sighs, closing his eyes as he loses himself in the darkness of his thoughts and memories. He's seated on the steps of the dorms outside. The lower half of his face pressed into his palm, the expression on his face bothered.

" Can't sleep?" 

Kento breath stutters, his hands reaching for the blade he doesn't carry with him currently.

Your eyes widen, bringing your hands up as you shake them, along with your head.

" Woah, sorry!- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. I just forget that my footsteps are silent sometimes."

He releases a breath, running a hand through his hair as he looks back at the night sky.

" It's alright." 

He expects you to take it as a sign to silently shuffle away. You surprise him however, sitting down beside him. Your body is close, yet not too close. A reminder that you're there. You're silent, a stark contrast to how loud he's seen you be with your classmates. The silence between the two of you is a little awkward, though for a moment, he leaves it be. You don't seem to be too bothered by it after all.

" I'm sorry I didn't reply to your messages. "

You turn to him, blinking in surprise. Now that he's seeing you again, he does feel a bit guilty about it. The two of you had been messaging for a few hours every day since you've asked him out. However, de did ignore you after things went downhill during his mission. He didn't have the energy to talk to anyone.

Slowly, your hand comes closer, and then your warm hand is on top of his cool shoulder.

" Don't worry about it. You've had more troublesome things going on after all."

Your touch is comforting. He hadn't expected it to be. You're surprisingly gentle.

He studies you for a moment. There's a kind, easy smile on your face that lets him know everything is alright.

" I'm also sorry about our date."

You shake your hand, bringing your hand in your lap again as you face the night sky.

" It's okay. We can always do that another time. I can be patient, so don't worry about it."

He glances at you, taking you in. You're caring. It's sweet. 

He turns his head, also gazing at the night sky once more.

" How come your footsteps are so quiet? I've never had anyone sneak up on me before. " 

You laugh softly at that, a cheeky smile on your face.

" I grew up in a temple, with other orphans. We're raised by monks. In between certain times, we wouldn't be allowed in the kitchen to eat snacks during the day. My siblings and I sneaked in anyway. I think the footsteps lasted because,, well.. a lot of practice."

You grin at the fond memory.

" I see. I didn't know you were an orphan. I'm sorry, that must be pers-" 

" It's alright. I never minded it. I've been raised with a lot of love and care, so I don't really care. I think I was brought there because my mother was too young to have me. I don't really remember the details." 

Your story surprises him. He had not expected that. At all. However, it does explain how you manage to get along with a lot of different people.

For a good few moments, silence overtakes the both of you again. Kento finds himself enjoying the time he's spending with you. There's no need to talk. No need to say anything in order to enjoy each other's company.

After a moment, you yawn.

" Why are you awake at this hour?"

" I got carried away while watching my series- Wanna watch a movie?"

You've turned to him, smiling widely.

" What? Where?"

" Don't get me wrong. It's not a date. This isn't the proper moment for that- but, at my dorm. My dorm room's closest to the door, so we can easily sneak you in and out."

You're grinning.

" I don't believe that's proper, Y/N."

" Awe, don't overthink it. I've done it with my siblings a lot of times too. Even when I've only known them for a few months.-"

" But I'm not one of your sibling Y/N, for all we know I might be your future husband."

That silenced you, your cheeks tinting pink. Kento has to catch himself too, clearing his throat. He opens his mouth to say something, probably to take his words back, but you're quick to speak, not allowing him to change his previous words.

" But then, does it really matter?"

Your blush intensifies, as does his own.

He doesn't know how, but nearly ten minutes later, the two of you are squeezed on your bed, your laptop open in front of you. Originally, Kento tries to keep a formal distance, but you're too close. Your touch is too comforting, and neither of you can help yourselves as you cuddle up together.

Eventually, he finally falls asleep. His sleep dreamless, finally at peace in the comfort of your arms.

The next morning, he finds himself entangled in your arms, and although he's blushing, he can't find it in himself to mind. You're still sleeping. He glances at the clock, he notices that it's now 5 am. The perfect time to sneak back towards his own dorm. However, in the warmth of your embrace,  bundled up together under the covers, he can't find the will in himself to move. Smiling softly, he presses a shy kiss to the top of your head, before returning to his comfortable position.

He'll make sure to take you on that date once he's feeling better.

Present day

He's glad to say that he's taken you out on that date, and many others. He's happy he eventually got down on one knee and asked you to marry him before either of you were even financially ready.

Kento had been certain that he'd marry you. He was proud to have called you his fiance for a long time, but much happier when he got to officially address you as his wife.

Kento loves you for every time you've stood by him, for every night you held him during those tough times, for not giving up on him when stupid arguments happened between the two of you.

Meanwhile, Gojo had stopped talking. At this point, he's just dumbly smiling at Kento, who's wrapped up in his own thoughts.

Nobara and Yuuji had stopped bantering as well. Only you and Megumi seemed to still be busy with making dinner. ( All three wanted to help, but it was really Megumi who was doing most of the work with you.)

Gojo grins, catching Yuuji's eye and signaling Kento's love eyes for his wife. Yuuji nods.

Meanwhile, Kento seems to have snapped out of it, raising a brow as he turns to face his colleague. 

" Wha-"

" Woah Nanamin, you're whipped!"

[wheeboo]

in bloom | kim mingyu

SYNOPSIS. in which you struggle to tell your husband something that can make or break your relationship. PAIRING. idol!husband!kim mingyu x afab!reader (ft. best friend!seulgi) GENRE. fluff, established relationship, idol au, pregnancy au, comfort WARNINGS. reader is pregnant and has female reproductive organs, vague mentions of intimate relations, mentions of fatigue and throwing up, terms of endearment, kissing WORD COUNT. 2.5k

requested from anon: idol!husband!mingyu x reader where you find out ur pregnant, and youre nervous to tell mingyu <3

notes: this is my second time ever writing a pregnancy au (first time on this blog), so... i hope u enjoy! i had too much fun with this lol

Being in the bathroom has never been this suffocating before. It's embarrassing, because literally anyone can walk in and hear the way you've been hacking over the toilet the past couple of days just like at your workplace, but the sudden bursts of nausea leaves you with no other option. You take a deep breath, attempting to compose yourself, and finally manage to stand up straight.

The little stick trembles in your hand, and as you peer down at the result, you swear you can feel the world around you completely stop. The two unmistakable lines are staring down at you through the small window of the test. You blink a few times, shaking the test even, as if hoping the lines will disappear or change, but they only remain.

It takes a moment for the reality to sink in. You're going to be a parent. A million thoughts race through your mind, and amidst the chaos, one question stands out: how do you share this with Mingyu?

Your husband is an idol, for God's sake. You've already seen the intensity of his schedule, the rigorous demands of his career, and the constant scrutiny from the public that has negatively affected other celebrities too. It feels as if you're going to be dropping a bombshell down on him.

You both always been careful when being intimate. And though you've had your conversations together about what it would be like to start a family, you never imagined it would happen quite like this, right at this moment when your husband has been reaching the peak of his career and is constantly in the spotlight. The timing couldn't be more unexpected, yet here you are, holding the proof of the little life growing within you.

Bringing the test out of sight, you splash some water on your face, taking a moment to collect yourself, before calmly making your way out of your bathroom, even with the anxious pounding of your heart feeling like it's bouncing off the walls of your place. And then suddenly, you're met with Seulgi running up to you from your living room.

"Well?" she asks, hands clasping together in excitement and an eager smile spreading across her face.

You turn towards her, and for some reason seeing the way your best friend's eyes are literally glowing with curiosity and anticipation almost makes you want to pull her in for a hug and sob into her shoulders. But you can't do that𑁋you're still struggling to process everything.

Instead, you take the pregnancy test out and show it to her.

Seulgi's eyes widen, and her hands fly to her mouth in disbelief.

"No way! Are you serious?" she whispers loudly, staring down at the test just to make sure.

"Yeah, I..." You take a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

Seulgi just squeals, unable to contain her joy. She pulls you into a tight hug that makes you let out a groan at the sudden pressure over your tired body, yet you feel a sense of relief and happiness sharing this moment with someone close.

"Sorry! Oh my gosh, I feel like crying. This is𑁋I'm so happy for you!" Seulgi exclaims as she lets you go, holding your shoulders at arm's length and bouncing up and down happily.

The two of you share a knowing smile with each other. And as Seulgi catches sight of the way your smile doesn't seem as bright as hers, the way it doesn't seem to reach to your ears, she takes a step back, concern etching across her face.

Seulgi takes your hands in hers. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

You let out a sigh. "I'm... I'm just overwhelmed, you know? It's a lot to take in, especially considering Mingyu's schedule and everything."

Seulgi squeezes your hands reassuringly. "I'm sure he will be over the moon, Y/N. He loves you more than anything."

Her words seem to offer comfort, but a lingering worry tugs at the edges of your thoughts. Seulgi senses your unease and pulls you into this time, a gentle hug.

"Listen," she says softly, rubbing her hands up and down your back comfortingly. "Mingyu is your husband. He loves you, and this is something you both have talked about before, right? You both will figure things out, so don't worry too much, okay?"

Feeling a bit more reassured, you manage a small smile. "You're right. I... I just need to find the right time to tell him."

When you both pull away from each other, Seulgi just grins.

"You'll know when the time is right, Y/N," she says, taking another glance down at the test out of excitement once again. "I'm going to be an auntie and spoil that little one rotten!"

You only let out a laugh and playfully shove her away, a lightness in your heart gradually replacing the worry in your bones.

It's been hard trying to conceal away the fatigue whenever you and Mingyu wake up together in the morning and the subtle changes in your eating habits, but you've managed to keep it under wraps so far, constantly playing it off as stress or tiredness, though you do marvel at how your husband is just a little more oblivious than you thought.

Seulgi has been nagging you almost every day to take it easy and to share the news with Mingyu. And as the days pass, the weight of the unspoken truth feels heavier, and you realise that the longer you wait, the more difficult it becomes to find the perfect moment.

So you decide to act on it. You venture to the grocery store to buy some ingredients, and prepare a romantic, intimate dinner at home. You hope that it could help clear away the cloud of anxiety running through your mind and encourage you to finally tell him once and for all.

As the savoury aroma wafts through your home, you set the table with care, ensuring everything is just right. And when you overhear the familiar clicks of the locks at the front door, you take a deep breath, your heart beating a little faster, and slowly make your way to greet him.

Mingyu walks in his almost disheveled glory, a charming mess that somehow makes him even more endearing. His tall, strong frame moves with a grace that seems effortless. You can tell the day has left its mark on him, evident in the slight weariness around his eyes, but there's an unmistakable warmth and charm that lingers in the way he carries himself.

When he catches sight of you, his eyes lock onto yours, and a smile spreads across his face, seemingly erasing any signs of fatigue.

"Hey, beautiful," he greets, closing the door behind him and coming up to you to place a sweet kiss to your lips, like he always does. Then he gestures towards the table. "What's all this?"

A shy smile plays on your lips as you take his hand and lead him to the table. "I thought we could have a special dinner tonight. Just the two of us."

He quirks a teasing eyebrow up, eyes scanning over your face. "Did I forget something?"

You shake your head. "No, you didn't forget anything, honey. I... just missed spending some quality time with you. That's all."

Mingyu's expression softens, and he pulls out a chair for you. God, you love him. "Well, I'm all yours tonight."

As the two of you begin to share the carefully prepared meal, the tension in the room slowly dissipates. He tells you about the recent preparations for his group's performance at an upcoming award show, and you update him on all the latest gossip at your workplace.

You love the sense of normalcy returning to your evening and being with him after such an eventful day. Yet within you, the anticipation courses through your veins beneath the surface of your composed act.

It becomes a bit too hard to handle that you have to dismiss yourself to the bathroom to calm yourself down.

Your hands clutch the countertop as you take a deep breath and lock eyes with yourself in the mirror. The reality of the situation dawns on you anew, the nerves doing nothing but making you overthink. It's a blend of excitement and anxiety, and it makes you tighten your grip on the cold surface of the sink.

You look down at your pocket, where the pregnancy test is safely tucked away. You know you can't postpone this moment any longer.

You've imagined the two of you as parents so many times𑁋waking up together and preparing breakfast for a little one, taking family trips, and experiencing the joy of watching your child grow before your eyes. Envisioning this kind of future with Mingyu has always been a dream, and now that it's becoming a reality, the knot in your stomach tightens.

When you head out of the bathroom, you catch sight of your husband already tidying up and washing your dishes under the dim kitchen light. And for some reason the sight alone is enough to send a surge of warmth through you and make your heart leap out of your chest. You married this man, decided to devote your entire life to him despite the complications with his career, and now, you're about to share a piece of both of you with him.

He dries his hands upon noticing you coming up. Then he looks at you with those warm, loving eyes, and it hits you like a wave𑁋the realisation that this incredible man, who has been your rock, your love, and your partner in all aspects of life, is going to be the father of your child. Just in that moment alone, you swear you fell in love with him all over again.

"Hi, angel." He reaches for your hand, interlocking your fingers together and you can feel his wedding ring pressing against your skin, giving you a playful twirl before pulling you into his arms. "What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

You smile softly, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Mingyu has this uncanny ability to make you feel safe, and right now, you need that more than ever.

"Nothing, just..." You bring a thumb up to brush over his skin. "Thinking about you."

Mingyu giggles heartily, pushing back some hair away from your face. "Oh, yeah?" His voice is low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "Hmm, is it good thoughts?”

You only give him a sly grin. "Always."

Mingyu just pulls you even closer, his hands making their way down to hold you lightly at the waist.

"Good, because..." He leans in, pressing a kiss to the spot behind your ear. "I've been thinking about you too."

You laugh softly, relishing the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. When he pulls away, your gazes meet together, and you take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. This is it𑁋the moment you've been waiting for.

"Can you close your eyes for me?" You whisper, a nervous but hopeful smile playing on your lips.

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "What's this, a surprise?"

You nod, trying to conceal the trembling excitement in your voice. "Just close your eyes, honey. Trust me."

He chuckles but obliges anyway, shutting his eyes and wearing a curious grin. You take a moment to compose yourself, feeling the weight of the moment settle on your shoulders. With a deep breath, you retrieve the pregnancy test from your pocket and carefully place it into his hand.

"Okay, you can open your eyes now."

Mingyu blinks his eyes open, and as he sees the pregnancy test in his hand, his expression transforms from curiosity to bewilderment. He looks down at the test, then back at you, his eyes widening with realisation.

"I𑁋is this...?"

"Yeah, we're..." Your words trail off for a second, and you swallow down the lump in your throat. "We're going to be parents."

Mingyu's eyes widen even further, and for a moment, he seems frozen in place. The seconds only continue stretch, feeling like an eternity in the utter silence of your place. You watch the flicker of emotions on his face𑁋surprise, confusion, shock, joy, and a hint of nervousness.

Then, as if a switch is flipped, a radiant smile breaks across his features. Before you can say something, you find yourself being lifted up and sat on the island of your kitchen with Mingyu standing between your legs.

"W-We're going to have a baby?" he stammers, as if the test wasn't enough to convince him and he needs to hear it from your own lips.

You cup his face with your hands. "Yes. We're... we're going to be parents, Gyu."

That's all it takes him for to kiss you, a gentle yet fervent kiss that feels enough to knock the air out of your lungs. Smiles emerge on both of your faces, laughter leaves your lips as he peppers kisses now all over your face.

"I can't believe it," he says between kisses, before pulling away to look at you. There's something a bit different in the way he's looking at you now, something deeper, more profound. "You're carrying our baby. I'm... I'm going to be a dad."

He gently rests his forehead against yours, his hands still cupping your face.

"We're going to be parents," he repeats, savouring the words on his tongue. He knows that phrase will be repeating in his head for the longest time. "I can't believe how lucky I am."

You kiss him again. The kitchen seems to glow with warmth and love as Mingyu holds you close, refusing to pull away anytime soon.

A pair of large arms sneak around you, the soft light of the morning seeping in through the small window and bathing your bathroom in an relaxing, ethereal glow. Mingyu nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his familiar scent wrapping around you comfortingly.

"Good morning, my love," he whispers, lips grazing against your ear.

You dry your face with a towel, letting out a contented sigh as you relax into his embrace. "Good morning."

As the quietness of the morning takes over, you feel Mingyu's hand drift a little lower, before stopping right at the hem of your shirt.

"Can I?" he asks carefully.

You can't help but grin. "You know I'm not even showing yet, right?"

Mingyu just smiles meekly against your skin. "I know. I just want to feel close to the both of you."

So with a nod, you feel his hand make its way under your shirt and gently rest on your stomach. It's only been a day since you've told him, yet he traces over your skin with such tenderness that it makes your heart swell with right out of your chest. He's always been this gentle with you, treating you with the utmost care and love as if you're the most delicate treasure he's ever held. And now, knowing that he's going to extend that same love to the tiny life growing within you, it brings heat to your eyes.

You lean back into him, relishing the warmth of his touch.

As his hand comes to a stop, he places his head on your shoulder. "This is real, isn't it?"

You cup over his hand with yours, following the way he's caressing over your stomach. "Very real."

Mingyu presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, and one to your shoulder blade.

"I love you," he murmurs into your skin. "I love you both so much."

His words linger in the hushed bathroom, and you both stand there for a little while, simply basking in the warmth of the moment knowing that your little family is now in bloom.

"I love you too," You finally reply, turning so that you can face him. "We love you too."

Mingyu just pulls you close and kisses you once more. He will never get tired of hearing that.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts

[villainousauthor]

Part one

Hero is sitting on the hardwood floors of the living room, as they pass another block to their baby.

She takes it with a giggle, stacking it atop the other ones. Hero can't help but grin at how much this activity is entertaining her, and them as well.

"She's getting good with those blocks."

Hero jumps at the sudden sound of Villain's voice behind them. They must have snuck in through the balcony again. Villain comes and sits next to Hero with an annoying grin.

"You need to stop sneaking up on me like that! And you need to stop breaking in." Hero exclaims, shoving Villain's shoulder.

Instead of immediately responding, Villain feigns hurt.

"Ow! Not in front of the kid, what are you teaching her about hitting?" Villain teases with a snicker before answering seriousness. "You can't come out and fight with me anymore -"

"I have an infant to take care of."

"-I understand why, but that just means I have to come annoy you here now." Villain finishes like Hero didn't interrupt. Hero rolls their eyes at this. They've been coming regularly now for the past few months, never knocking, just letting themselves in. So irritating.

The baby crawls across the floor to where both Hero and Villain sit, having forgotten about her blocks. For a moment, Hero thinks their child is crawling to them until she makes a beeline for Villain. Not surprising, Villain has quickly become a favorite for the young child.

'Betrayed by my own kin.' Hero thinks quietly, shaking their head.

Hero can't pretend they haven't been of help, though, with how they seem to so naturally know how to care for the baby. Hero still wonders how they know so much about child care, but Villain won't divulge. At the very least, the extra pair of hands has taken some burden off Hero's shoulders.

They watch as Villain reaches for her, another one of those rare genuine smiles on their face they only ever seem to show while here. Hero tries to ignore how it makes their heart beat faster.

"You're getting so good at crawling." Villain coos, picking the baby up gently. "At least someone is happy to see me here." Villain says humorously.

"I bet it's the only time anyone is happy to see you." Hero replies, though their tone isn't as serious, and they scoot closer to Villain.

"Heh, probably." Villlain shakes their head, still smiling, though as they hold the baby.

Hero feels the same questions burning in the back of their mind again, curiosity eating them up from the inside. They know Villain is unlikely to answer and will dodge the question again like always, but Hero can't help but ask.

"Are you a parent, Villain?" Hero's voice is quiet as they ask, soft as they bring up the subject. They've never asked so directly before, and for a split moment, they think they see a flash of sadness on Villain's face.

Before they can respond, though, the baby makes a noise, spitting up directly on Villain's shirt. Hero immediately comes and takes the infant into their arms.

"I'm so sorry!" Hero's voice is apologetic, as they look to make sure their baby is okay. Villain is unphased, though, as they smirk.

"Don't worry about it." They look to how she immediately smiles up with those chubby baby cheeks and dimples at both of them. "She thinks that's funny. You're raising a little mini villain, Hero." Villain's voice is full of amusement. Hero rolls their eyes as they stand.

"I can wash that for you if want, I think I have a spare shirt in about your size." They offer, still feeling bad. They set the baby in her play pin as they lead Villain through the house to their bedroom. Hero paws through their dresser until they find the shirt.

Turning around, they find Villain is already removing their own shirt, and Hero tries not to pay attention to the curve and contour of their toned body. Flushing red, Hero thrusts the shirt in their direction, averting their gaze.

Villain takes it, chuckling at their reaction.

"You really don't have to apologize. You have an adorable kid." Villain's voice is softer than normal.

Smiling gently, Hero nods. This is something they both can agree on. "Yeah, she is."

"I have no idea where she gets it from." Villain continues, teasing in their tone evident. Hero pushes their shoulder in retaliation.

"I happen to be adorable as hell."

Villain takes Hero's hand and pulls them close. "You're just hot. There's a difference." Their voice is low and rumbling.

Stomach fluttering, Hero can't help the heat rising up their neck. This has also been happening frequently, Villain's teasing and flirtatious comments. Hero can't tell if they actually mean it or are trying to get a reaction.

Hero doesn't know how to respond, always replying to their teasing words with flustered laughter or deadpan replies. When they don't respond, Villain continues speaking.

"I'll come back later to return your shirt." Their voice still has that playful air, but they look a little dejected. They turn to presumably climb back out the balcony like a maniac.

Before they can think otherwise, Hero grabs them by the elbow, their skin soft and warm under theirs.

"Wait- you don't have to leave." Their voice is still sounding flustered as they speak in a rush. "You should stay. If you want.."

Villain's resulting smile has their heart quickening. "I couldn't say no to spending more time with my favorite ankle bitter. Or to annoying you some more." Their voice is light and joking as they head out of the bedroom, back towards the living room.

"Have you ever thought about having any more?" Villain asks suddenly, as Hero follows after.

They haven't really thought about this. The kid they have now is already a handful, but the mental image of a big family is an endearing one.

"I haven't really thought about it," Hero says, picking their infant up from her pen. "Why do you ask?"

Villain leans in close, offering a finger to the baby. They smile as she grabs it, before looking up to Hero's eyes. Their gaze is full of warmth and amusement, and something else that gives Hero butterflies. Villain's voice is warm and flirtatious when they speak.

"We could have some cute babies."

[tiredsugarcube]

"Required Attendance"

What happens when you miss your lover's match?

Kageyama has the flair that demands your attention when he plays, his detailed techniques and ability to make fast paced yet careful decisions to ensure a victory has earned him the title "King of the Court", though his dictator personality has evolved into a character that can cooperate and compliment to any teammate, he may still have moments when he snaps out of utter frustration.

Being in all of his matches is now an important requirement in your schedule, Kageyama has grown dependent on you, your love, support, voice, everything about you he has grown attached to, maybe even too attached to the point where he's not at best conditions to play when you are absent.

It was a simple practice match, your classmate and Karasuno team manager, Yachi mentioned. Though you are aware of his tendencies, which you don't mind since it gave you a bit of reassurance that he really cherished and loved you to the point of obsession, you decided to not be present in said practice match. Other clubs needed your attention today and I'm sure he wouldn't mind you miss one match right? after all it was a practice match, and you never missed his official matches so I'm sure he wouldn't mind..

You have never been more wrong.

The whole afternoon, you finished your tasks, being able to be productive in setting up club rooms for new issued school clubs and assisting club presidents. The sun has started to set, and most students have already left excited for the weekend. You walk by the gate, and immediately spot your lover Kageyama waiting, the more you walk near him, the atmosphere grows more and more eerie. You greet Kageyama and he's silent, doing nothing but keeping his intense glare on you, you feel your heart start beating faster. He suddenly grips your arm and asks,

"Why weren't you there." It didn't feel like a question, more like a demand to answer.

"In the practice match..? I had some things to do, I'm sure you did just fine." keeping your voice calm and batting your eyelashes is the best thing you can do at this moment of fear.

He stays silent and grips your arms tighter to the point it started to hurt badly.

"Hey.. don't do that, It'll bruise." The pain starting to sink in and you stutter for a moment. "I'm so sorry I wasn't in your practice match I should've been there to support you..." you apologize as your final weak attempt to sway him.

He finally lessens his grip, that's all he needed to hear, he leans down and whispers in your ear..

"Good, you should be. I needed you there, I always need you yet you weren't there. If you had something important, I would be in attendance to support you so do the same." he says before letting go of your arm. You nodded on understanding, you felt relieved that you were forgiven and you start to walk and leave before being pulled back by your Kageyama.

"You forgot something." He says, void of the menacing nature he had a few seconds ago, he points to his lips, signaling for a kiss.

You kiss him swiftly and he seems satisfied, you intertwine your fingers into his and start walking home, if anyone were to see that display of affection, they might see nothing but pure, unadulterated puppy love from two students. Maybe it was before but it's grown more than that, darker that that, and you were getting used to it.

You better be, there's no use fighting back anyway.

(This plot is inspired by another oneshot, I'm trying to find the author to credit them as we speak. Please tell me which character I should do next with this prompt!)

[sugurufic]

The Girl at the Cafe

Fushiguro Megumi x F!Reader

(megumi is such a babygirl and i love the violin scene so here it is)

Word Count: almost 1k

Content Warnings: none, just fluff

masterlist

Megumi has been seeing this girl daily now, sitting in the corner with a tea in her hands, looking out the window. Megumi sees you daily, and you see him too, but he has never had the courage to ask your name. He thinks you look beautiful, and now he has been looking forward to seeing you in your spot rather than his black coffee.

Today is no different, he enters the cafe and sits down in his unassigned-assigned place and turns to catch a glimpse of you. But today, you aren't there. He checks the time on his phone, he is there at the usual time. Maybe you were running late, a hopeful part of him thinks. Maybe you have already left, the pessimist in him thinks.

He orders his usual coffee and a pastry to pass the time, but it's been over half an hour and there is still no sign of you. After an hour, he leaves the coffee not tasting the same without having you to steal glances at.

Right as he steps out, he spots Yuji and turns away, not wanting him to see his usually antsy face upset over nothing. 

He is glad he does, because he bumps into you - well you run into him - but he is delighted to see you though his face still has the signature frown.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” you say, and Megumi is mesmerised by your voice, already feeling it seeping into his dreams. 

“It's alright,” He says, hands involuntarily reaching out to steady you. 

“Isn't it later than your usual time?” You ask. He can see the curiosity in your eyes and he is delighted that you recognize him - else he'd be making a complete fool of himself.

“Yeah, school,” He says with a sad sigh. “You're late too, what a coincidence.” Megumi opens the door for you, letting you pass before entering again.

“Fushiguro, Megumi,” He says when you give him your name. He tries saying it out once, loving the way it rolls off his tongue.

Megumi takes another pastry and his black coffee, not worrying about the sleep it is going to steal from him. It's not like he could sleep tonight either. The barista gives a knowing smile but she doesn't say anything. 

Conversation flows easily between you two, and you are quickly done with your beverages and pastries. Like a true gentleman, he opens the door again as you exit a shy smile on your face.

He's asking how you are going to go just as two pairs of arms are swung around him, embarrassment filling his whole body.

“Fushiguro-kyun!” Yuji and Nobora smother him with embarrassing questions about things that never happened, about the nights they shared together about the nice things he has said to them. He wishes the earth would split open and swallow him, he's sure he's red in the face and cannot bear to look you in the eyes. What kind of man would you take him for, after these idiots? He's fuming and ready to lash out at his friends only to be beaten to it again. By Gojo Sensei, of all people.

“Could you not touch him so casually, please?” Gojo says in a soft voice, before yelling, “You homewreckers!”

“Ah, well,” Megumi accepts his fate, ready to never show up in this cafe again, ready to disappear out of your sight and never seek anyone else out.

Gojo is standing elegantly, his blindfold gone and sunglasses in their place - his glowing blue eye teasing from under a lens. “Megumi-chan has violin practice with me now.” He says with all the dramatic flair he is known for. “Let’s go home, Megumi-chan. Today I will have you master Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.”

He is ready to split the sky and fly away, but then you start giggling at their theatrics. He thinks it is the prettiest sight he has ever seen, seeing you giggle like that, he wants to make that sound come from you all the time. It's a strange feeling, for he has never had the urge to make people laugh.

“You've got wonderful friends, Fushiguro.” You say, sounding out of breath. Your eyes twinkle with laughter and he knows he will never forget it.

An embarrassed smile makes its way to his face, and Yuji, Nobora and Gojo all step back, staring at him in horror.

“Megumi?” They whisper under their breath, eyes dancing between the two of you.

“Same time, tomorrow?” You ask, holding your hand out. Megumi is a little confused, but Gojo says, “Phone number, Megumi-chan,”

“Oh, right!” Megumi takes your phone and dials his number, a shy smile on his face. “Same place?”

“Do you have any better suggestions?” You ask, eyes sparkling. He cannot bring himself to look away, wanting to drink in each second he has with you.

Megumi watches you walk away, he thinks you have an amazing walk - taking the runway straight to his heart. He's so blissed he's even forgotten his embarrassing friends, who had been suspiciously quiet all this time. The satisfied smile on his face quickly turns to a scowl as he turns, Yuji, Nobora and Gojo all with wide grins on their faces. And suddenly he can feel all his fury returning.

“What the hell was all of that?” He demands, not quite loud, but still sounding outraged. And he's surprisingly vocal about it too. “Gojo-Sensei, violin?  Really? Do you even play violin?”

“Fushiguro's got a girlfriend!” Yuji ignores all of that, right back to his bubbly self. Megumi hates Yuji so much at the moment, and his resting face reflects that, but he also thinks, if you two were to date - you’d better get used to his friends' antics.