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saerins · 1 year

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─── 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄

+ sae x f!reader | wc 4.9k | content: angst, fluff, some making out, implied sex, stupid teenager phase

notes: sobs this was not supposed to be this long … one of y’all need to stop me from writing about this man !! i love him too much, pls send help </3 extra: this is the song playing in the last scene :’)

summary: sae has few interests, and one of them is you. but sometimes, being special just isn’t enough.

you’ve always been special.

ever since age three when your family moved across the street from where the itoshis lived. ever since age five when you finally gathered the courage to talk to the pair of brothers. ever since age six when sae invited you to play with him and rin. ever since age seven when you cried because someone bullied you at the playground and sae wiped away your tears. ever since age ten when both of you played with paper rings. ever since age eleven when you and sae would talk endlessly at night through the phone and get nagged at by your parents when they found out.

ever since age twelve when you told sae you’d watch him become the best soccer player in the world by his side.

your presence bleeds into sae’s life and he can’t think about anything without relating it to you; like how his breakfast tastes like ass when you’re not smearing your stupid peanut butter on it because apparently peanut better goes well with everything is your phase at that point of time. like how he’s walking home and he’ll always have to crane his head to the right just to check if you’re on your front porch swing, because if you are, he’ll wave and then you’ll smile and wave back, and sae would feel like it’s a special code you two share.

you’re probably the only thing he pays his spare attention to. and rin. you, rin, soccer. that’s all.

you complain way too much, especially at the fact that sae doesn’t smile often. he counters, “that’s none of your business.”

and you tell him one day you’ll be the reason he smiles everyday.

sae thinks it’s kind of stupid though, because you already are. you just aren’t around to see it. he’ll probably never let you see it too. he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he did.

it isn’t long before you’re age fifteen and graduating middle school and you’re excited to start high school. it didn’t really make a difference for sae, as long as he got to play soccer, he really couldn’t care less.

when you’re age sixteen you tell sae that a boy from class broke your heart because he didn’t accept your valentines’ chocolates. it was as good as a rejection, apparently. or whatever girl code says it is.

frankly, sae’s just offended. you’ve never given him any valentines’ shit. all of a sudden some no name guy is getting it?

maybe it’s true what people say, teenage girls cry over stupid things they consider love that’s not actually love. now you’re getting his soccer jersey wet with your tears and you’re crooning on and on about how boys suck but somehow sae’s still the best.

you’re sixteen and crying on sae’s shoulder, while he’s seventeen and wishing he could torture the son of a bitch who made you cry.

this is the closest you’ve ever been, physically. your heart’s not really broken because whoever you’re crying about has never really had it. but sae doesn’t know that.

teenage girls make really stupid decisions sometimes. and other times, they making stupid passing comments, like when you say “glad i didn’t let him kiss me. would suck for my first kiss to be with a dick who didn’t give a shit about me.”

sometimes teenage boys make stupid decisions too.

sae doesn’t really know what possesses him to do this, but he doesn’t stop it. he doesn’t stop his hand from reaching out to you, doesn’t stop his fingers from tilting your chin up. there’s only confusion in your eyes when he looks into them. there’s only hesitation in his.

sae’s not anything to you except for a childhood friend, and you’re not anything to him, except for one of the most beautiful people he’s ever met. that’s why he does this slowly, so you have time to stop this.

he has no right to do this. he wishes you would just stop him.

you’re both teenagers when sae becomes your first kiss, when your tears stain his cheeks and he tastes like the fruits he just ate. you’re both delirious off of the feeling, like neither of you want this to end because your lips stay connected even when you’re not moving, and your lashes are fluttering against one another’s and sae really wants to kiss you again.

but it’s late and your parents are probably the ones knocking on his door right now so he stops himself and pulls away while rin bounds down the stairs to open the door.

sae sees nothing but you, you and your pretty face and your pretty lips and your perfect perfect person.

“there, now your first kiss is with a dick who does care about you.”

it’s that same summer and you’ve forgotten all about the stupid boy that supposedly broke your heart. you have sae with you whenever he’s free, when he decides to bring you out after practice and explore rooftops to find the best view for the fireworks.

you’re not together, but it sure feels like you are.

then it’s autumn and the leaves are turning orange and red, and you swear you see sae’s cheeks and ears turn nearly the same shade when he holds your hand for the first time as you walk through the park, a white cat crossing in front of you.

sae blames it on his practice earlier and that he’s tired because there’s no way he’ll ever admit it’s because of you.

when winter comes, sae’s still taking care of you. nothing stops him from playing soccer, but nothing can stop him from finding you either. sae’s starting to regret his decisions when you force him to go ice skating and look at him expectantly whenever you see a mistletoe.

you’re a lot of work, maybe you’re worth it.

and then you kiss him again and he thinks yes, maybe he can do this. he can juggle soccer and you, it’ll magically work out.

finally it’s spring and you’re excited because you love the cherry blossoms, and sae thinks maybe he loves something else but he’s not going to go there yet. and while everyone’s watching the solar eclipse that one night, sae’s watching you.

for once, he wants to believe in superstitions, wants to believe what watching the solar eclipse means.

“what’s the matter?”

you’re always so perceptive. you’d make a great playmaker, he feels.

of course you pick up on the tension, barely a minute after you walk into his room. sae doesn’t want to ruin this, whatever this is, whether it’s love or something less, or maybe something more.

but it’s not a democracy, and the answer is crystal clear in sae’s mind. his answer’s always been the same, but it’s not like you don’t exist in his world.

“the club in spain gave me an offer.”

that’s all he needs to say to make you understand. and if you weren’t the most understanding person he knows, you might’ve reacted differently, but you’re still the same supportive, kind girl he met at age four.

“when do you go?” your voice is shaky and he knows you’re trying to hold it together.

sae’s sorry, really.

“next month.”

it’s not a lot of time, but probably enough to say goodbye. then you throw your arms around him and you work your magic, you say you want to try despite the distance, despite the unknown timeline. and who is sae if not someone who’d give it a try?

he’s not even sure he can ever say no to you.

it doesn’t seem real until the night before he leaves, because you’re eighteen and standing in his near barren room, everything already packed into boxes and loaded.

maybe it’s the fact he’ll be gone for a very long time, doesn’t know when he’ll see you again. maybe it’s the adrenaline rushing through his veins when he feels you pressed up against him. maybe it’s the fact he’s denying the depth of his feelings for you and it’s getting him frustrated.

or maybe it’s because he’s selfish and he doesn’t want anyone else to have you, just like how he gave you your first kiss.

he’s your first kiss, and he’ll be your first time, with your hands clawing at his clothes. and you’ll be his, with the way he’s grabbing onto your bare back so desperately.

you’re eighteen and you think nothing’s prettier than the sounds sae makes, especially when his lips are right next to your ear, with his hot breath fanning against you.

sae’s nineteen and he thinks you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, in all sense of the word. he thinks you look pretty in pink, still pretty when you wear nothing too.

and suddenly sae thinks that maybe it doesn’t feel so crazy to think that the both of you might make it through this.

long distance can work for some people. but sometimes it’s just meant to drive two people further away.

sae’s gaining momentum in europe, and you’re proud of him. you’re proud of your boyfriend, doing his best and showing off his talents and having his hard work pay off.

you’re really, genuinely happy for him. but the bigger of a star he is, the further away he feels, and maybe it’s selfish of you to want him here, to want him to be just your neighbour itoshi sae like how things started out.

maybe it’s selfish and wishful thinking, but you can’t help yourself.

sometimes sae doesn’t even have time to look at his phone. he’s tired and overwhelmed and understandably too. and you feel guilty everytime you subject him to your insecurities.

but you’re nineteen and you don’t know better.

rin’s not much fun to hang around with, especially when he got more stoic and awkward. he’s like a mirror of his brother, and that may fool a lot of people, except you knew him before that. but you’re not going to butt your head in things that don’t concern you, so you leave him be.

and suddenly the itoshis seem further away than they’ve ever been. for the first time in your life, you’re not sure if trying will be enough anymore.

sae misses you. that’s whenever he has the free time to think, when he’s not hounded by trainings after trainings, when he’s not busy from day to night with whatever new training regime they’ve got him on.

is he aware that he’s probably being the world’s worst boyfriend now? yes. but sae can’t force himself to choose that over his dreams. can’t force himself not to choose soccer.

[17:08] she’s fine, idk what you’re worried about.

rin’s message doesn’t alleviate his worries. sae knows you better than anyone, and he doesn’t believe you’re fine.

[08:08] hey sae :)

[17:34] going to bed now, gn!! <3

sae stares at your message for a while in the locker room, while everyone else is showering. you’ve cooled off on the pet names, you’re worried you’re overstepping. you’re worried he’s lost his feelings.

he’s not.

he’d be crazy to.

but he can’t find the energy to convince himself that this would turn out fine. he can’t convince himself that he’s not hurting you every single day by not being able to be everything you need, by not being able to be physically there for you.

this half-assed relationship isn’t what you deserve. and where he is right now, with his bird’s eye view of the world, he doesn’t know if he can ever give you anything else.

[17:49] goodnight. call you tomorrow.

the moment sae breaks up with you, you feel like that kid at sixteen all over again, except this time you don’t have your favourite person’s shoulder to cry on and this time it’s actually love.

all you can think of when you hear him pick up the phone is that morning right before he left for the airport, how his hair’s a mess and how his lashes are way too pretty and how he sounded when he’s all groggy and tired.

but then he tells you the one thing you do not want to hear, and the illusion is shattered into pieces.

“this isn’t working out.”

“what are you talking about?” he’s silent, and you’re anxious. “we’re fine, sae.”

you can hear him sighing over the phone. you so desperately want to fix this, and so does sae but he can’t think of anything more selfish than to ask you to wait for him until he’s ready—he knows what’s the right thing to do. it sucks, but he’s made up his mind.

“that’s bullshit, y/n,” he responds, calmly, and you feel him slipping further and further from you.

“i- look, i-i know it’s hard but we can—”

“give it a break, woman,” sae chuckles, low and deep, and you’re beginning to doubt that you know him at all right now. “we’re done.”

the dial tone is all you can hear after that.

twenty years old is where you have your first actual heartbreak.

and all that talk about how time heals all feels like bullshit when you’re right in the middle of it all. five days in and you’re still a wreck. twenty days later and you’re still staring at the pictures you and sae took together. a month passes and you’re visiting the places you went to together. just a sad, pathetic girl crying on the benches, reliving what she once had.

three months later you’re still watching his matches on tv. you’re still cheering for him inside. four months later and it’s sae’s birthday and he doesn’t even respond to your birthday message. half a year after the breakup and you finally stop crying when you think of him.

but it’s easy to delude yourself when you’re not in the presence of what you grieve. because eight months after you broke up, you see reports that sae’s dating a sports photographer. the next few days, a picture is released of them kissing in a restaurant.

then you get glimpses of other girls being able to be intimate with him. other girls getting to taste his lips and feel his love. other girls getting his attention when that right used to solely belong to you.

and you’ve never felt worse.

“why so glum?”

sae blinks at the woman, indifferent. he can’t even remember her name.

“nadia,” she says, like she’s reading his goddamn mind, holding her hand out. “i’ve been your team’s photographer for a few months now.”

sae shakes her hand out of courtesy because he really doesn’t want his publicist to chew him out again. “didn’t ask.”

“you know, you’re a lot more crabby these days,” she comments, and it’s like he can see the lightbulb going off in her head. “oh, is it girlfriend issues?”

“i don’t have one, so shut it.”

“come on, i promise i’m good at making people forget.” she says this so seductively that sae’s a little disturbed. he just wants to get this shoot done with and go home, maybe even check up on you a little. all in incognito mode, of course, because he can’t risk you knowing he still cares. can’t risk getting your hopes up.

somehow the stars have spent all their time aligning sae’s soccer career and everything else is in tatters because his publicist forces him to take nadia up on her offer and go out with her.

what was supposed to be a one time thing turned out to be something more. she wasn’t even close to you, but she could be close. turns out when he’s not being such a dick, nadia can be moderately interesting.

different, maybe that’s what he needs.

he thinks back to when she kissed him on their first date. sae still finds himself hoping you didn’t see that.

but no, he’s not in love with you anymore. sae’s officially an adult at twenty-one and he’s still the same stubborn guy in denial because he’s looking at pictures of you while nadia’s sitting right next to him.

it’s not healthy, it really isn’t.

you’re twenty-one now and you’re actually going on a date with the sole intention of trying to get over the one and only itoshi sae.

can you even trust your friend? all you know is that the guy is a friend of a best friend’s and that’s all she told you.

“my best friend’s a good guy, so by extension, so is his best friend,” was all she said.

now you’re here, at the amusement park, waiting for your date to show himself because apparently, in your friend’s bid for suspense, she was reluctant to share anything about him except that he’s dreamy and pretty and that his friend describes him as a genius.

and also “oh, he’s a soccer player too so that’s right up your alley, right?”

when the call from date guy comes in (because to stop you from profiling your date she also didn’t give you his name), you kind of like his voice.

“hey, where are you?”

you find out his name is nagi. and that he’s only here because reo stole his switch and he won’t give it back until the date’s over. which kind of works because you tell him you’re only here because you wanted to get over someone.

to which he says it’s a hassle.

there’s nothing you expect out of this, but then you find yourself enjoying your date.

it’s clear by the first fifteen minutes why nagi chose this place to meet. he’s absurdly good at games. he’s won you tons of plushies that you had to give away to some very happy kids. it’s a pattern; every game that he doesn’t know, he only loses once and then he proceeds to dominate.

no wonder his friend calls him a genius.

with nagi it’s easy, fluid. you’ve been spending the whole night there with him, playing together and eating together—well, mostly it’s just you feeding nagi because it turns out he finds a lot of things a hassle.

three days later, you find out that apparently you’re not a hassle in his books. not really, because he asks you out again.

it’s irrational.

sae shouldn’t be this bothered, but he is. he hates seeing your stupid updates about how you’re on a date with this nagi guy. he hates seeing your posts with the two of you wearing matching sweaters for christmas.

he gives it a like.

nadia’s already gone. sae doesn’t have time or energy to waste on people that don’t matter. and you shouldn’t matter. not right now. but here he is, wishing the circumstances were different.

if you and nadia switched places. if you had something to bring you to spain. it’s fucking selfish, he knows. doesn’t stop him from wishing for it. he can’t think of anyone else like how he thinks of you. doesn’t want to.

he really is clueless about everything outside of soccer, because he’s twenty-two when he realises that no one could ever make him forget about you, and maybe he should just live with it.

sae turns twenty-three when he’s in the running for being the world’s best midfielder. he’s gotten rid of the hopes of moving on and he’ll just fake it till he makes it.

maybe that’s why this year is particularly special to him. or maybe it’s because for the first time in a long while, you wish him happy birthday.

at midnight, in japan. because you’re thoughtful that way.

this time he responds.

thanks. how r u?

it’s criminal how easy it is for you to get his heart beating like this. he sees you typing and it’s enough to lift his mood.

great, school’s kicking my ass though.

sae finds himself wishing that he could hear your voice right now. for some stupidly non-complex reason that he finds completely absurd.

i saw your match last week, good game, genius.

fuck. after all this time, he still wants you.

his fingers type i miss you, just for the hell of it. just to see it there on his screen before he inevitably deletes it and replaces it with something mediocre like thanks or i know.

because he can’t just say that after being the one who broke things off. he can’t do that when he still thinks it won’t work out.

all he does is sigh and hit the delete button—except fuck, he accidentally hit send. and he would’ve deleted it if you weren’t already online and read it and he sees you typing for a moment before you stop completely and go offline.

sae has never felt more numb.

it’s been three months since sae said he missed you. you still can’t get that out of your head. the most upfront he’s been about his feelings and he chooses then of all times to be honest?

when your boyfriend was right beside you?

maybe it was your fault. you didn’t even know why you wished him a happy birthday. maybe you missed him too and was just lying to yourself.

god, maybe you’re the asshole in this after all. did you really love nagi? or was he just exceptionally well at making you forget? you really really like him, that’s all you know.

“hey, what’s wrong?” nagi’s looking at you, pushing his hair back, and you can’t help but think you’re lucky to have him these past few months.

but the turmoil inside you wins, and maybe you understand a little bit of how sae felt that night when he broke up with you.

it’s not fair to nagi for you to do this, but it’s not fair to him either to keep him around.

“we need to talk.”

it’s a surreal feeling, to be back in japan.

sae was nineteen when he left. now he’s twenty-seven when he breathes the tokyo air again. he lugs around his carry-on baggage because he’s not staying here for long. not yet. he’s coming back soon, and he doesn’t really know why. he’s milked everything he could from spain, from the rest of europe, some of the americas, and maybe he’s homesick now.

plain and simple.

the cab driver asks him why he looks so sharp, and he simply says, “wedding.”

it’s been seven years since he broke up with you. and your grip on him is as firm as ever. a grip he’ll never let you know you have on him because he’s made this mistake before—said i miss you and then scared you away.

by the next day he couldn’t even find you online because everything is wiped and maybe you hate him, hate his guts. that’s fine. he can live with that.

to him, you’re still the same lovable person as you were at age five. still the same girl at age sixteen that he fell in love with. you’re still his person and it’s fine if he has to just admire you from afar.

when he arrives, he takes a long hard look around the room, filled with guests socialising and drinking their wines and it’s so pathetic but he’s wondering if you’re still around. he’s late, and it’s his plane’s fault but it’s no use playing the blame game.

“hey,” rin calls out when he sees his brother. “you missed the ceremony.”

“yeah, stupid plane got delayed,” sae says, mind still distracted.

rin formally introduces his new wife to sae and she seems nice, polite, the kind that can put his brother in his place if she needs to. that’s nice. sae can’t help envisioning you in the wedding dress though. you’d look nice.

nicer if he was the one beside you.

“oh! as a gift to my now brother-in-law, i have a friend i want to set you up with,” she grins, and as much of an ass that sae is, he just figures he’ll reject the poor girl later. for now, he’ll entertain his new sister-in-law.

rin claps him on the shoulder before smirking and walking off, presumably to get a drink because no matter how much rin has changed, sae doubts he’ll ever become friendly enough to mingle in this crowd.

sae feels someone poking his shoulder and turns around, first to find his sister-in-law grinning from ear to ear, and next to find you next to her, just like he remembers.

pretty in pink, stupid bashful smile, still fucking beautiful.

“have fun,” rin’s wife says before she walks off with a knowing look. she’s already winning points with sae for bringing you to him.

“hey, genius,” you try to suppress your smile but it’s not working.

he thinks he’s dreaming. he’s not. he’s here. and so are you. and this might just be what he missed all this time.

you hold your hand out and he takes it wordlessly, obediently. sae follows you to the dance floor, trying to calm his erratic heartbeats, savouring the feeling of your hand in his once again, remembering that moment back in autumn when he first felt it.

when you wrap your hands around his neck and he wraps his around your waist, it feels like finally, something is real. like there’s something in this country that can really keep him here this time. because now he’s twenty-seven and he finally understands, he’s always loved you but he’s never been ready until now.

“can’t believe you let your brother get married before you,” you say, sarcasm because you’re breaking into a grin. “he actually beat you at something.”

sae pouts slightly, averting his gaze. “what’s the big deal anyway?”

you shrug. “i’d have thought you’d be the first. maybe with one of the girls you met abroad or something.”

there’s a certain bitterness in your tone that he likes, only because it means you minded all this time. the thought of him with someone else. he suddenly remembers something, and searches the room for a familiar face.

gray eyes meet his teal ones before they turn away, disinterested.

“you sure your boyfriend won’t mind you dancing with your ex?”

“probably not, since i don’t have one.” you smirk, sensing the bitterness in his tone too. it’s funny, seeing sae jealous like this.

he has no reason to though, since you broke up with nagi after being honest with yourself—that you’re not over sae and you probably never will be. you’d decided to just live with your decision.

“shame. thought you guys looked cute in those matching sweaters.”

so that was a jealous like, you think to yourself.

“thought you looked cute with that sports photographer girl too, kissing and all,” you say, though it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “why didn’t that work out?”

for the first time in his life, sae decides to be outright honest with you—

“because she’s not you.” because everytime she said his name, he’d overlay it with your voice in his head. because everytime she’d tried to get close, he’d resent her more for not being you. because no matter how hard anyone tries, they will never be you and that will never work, not for sae.

—to a certain degree.

he’s twenty-seven when he’s finally old enough to understand that it was never a problem with feelings because he’s always loved you all the same all this time. it was just a matter of being ready at the right time. it’s like luck in the world of soccer, where coincidences can only fall to those who are prepared.

and he’s here now. he’s ready.

call him crazy for thinking you’re on the same page because you’re getting closer and closer and closer.

“itoshi sae,” you whisper his name against his lips and he’s reminded of the first time he had you. you drive him crazy and he thinks he’ll keep on letting you. “i missed you too.”

you did. you used to be too young and inexperienced to put yourself in sae’s shoes. too young and naive thinking emotions were enough for two people to stay. sometimes, some things just aren’t meant to be… in the moment. and other times, when you’re both ready, everything suddenly falls into place.

you were sixteen when sae first kissed you. now ten years later, ten years wiser, you kiss again, and this feels significantly better than before. because now you both know.

sae has known you ever since you were three. and he thinks he’ll keep on knowing you, every day, every hour, every minute. he wants to know you forever. and he’s thinking maybe that superstition worked out after all. maybe it was destined to be like this all along.

two people coming together and falling apart only to end up in each other’s arms.

and he thinks fuck superstition, fuck the white cats and solar eclipses and everything else. even if things threaten not to work, this time he’ll make it work.

sae’s known you for so long he overlooked one simple thing. when he kisses you even deeper and is greeted with your lips smiling against his, he knows.

he hasn’t become the world’s best soccer player yet, but when he does, you’ll be by his side.

one day those paper rings the both of you played with when you were little would be real.

you’ve always been special, and you always will be.

now he’s finally home.

#bllk x reader #itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock fluff #blue lock angst #itoshi sae x you #itoshi sae x y/n #sae itoshi x you #sae itoshi x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #itoshi sae angst #itoshi sae fluff #૪ aeri’s fics !

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illubean · 4 months

Note

Bit of a long winded fluff/crack headcanon request: Illumi, Feitan, Chrollo, and Phinks developing the most infuriating crush on a gn! Reader who is just a lazy sopping wet dog of a person?

Reader will nap anywhere.

Will just kind of flop where ever they are when under too much emotional distress and refuse to move

Hell, sometimes they to be physically scruffed and carried/dragged to do social stuff and does the whole liquid cat thing where they go entirely slack just to be difficult. Overall reader's pretty reliable and will (begrudgingly) do just about anything the guys ask if incentivized, they're a surprising understanding and active listener, a highkey terrifying and precise combatant, and could probably be bribed to do anything from cuddle and never speak about it to horrible violations of the geneva convention for snacks and a nice nap afterward. They're incredibly easy to please and not that most/any of the guys would ever admit it but not being near them makes everything feel exponentially worse.

But they're also stubborn, incredibly low energy, and frankly seem a bit stupid on closer inspection to the point the guys are probably questioning "no- god- fuck- why???"

HXH Men with Lazy!Reader

Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor, Phinks Magcub Type: Crack, Headcanons, Gn!reader

IM NOT DEADDD

Warnings: mentions of violence, mention of pregnancy like once

Illumi Zoldyck

if you didn't have any special nen or whatever he would've killed you by now out of pure frustration

you were set up in an arranged marriage because of your status, and at first Illumi could not care but surprise surprise he caught feelings eventually

and it was upsetting.

1) he was feeling something 2) IT WAS FOR YOUR STUPID ASS

ALL YOU DO IS LAY AROUND THE MANTION AND EAT HOT CHIP

you remind him of Milluki sometimes and that just makes him even more mad

every time you guys are sent on missions together he actually has to drag you because you refuse to do any type of physical labor

if he's feeling particularly nice he'll throw you over his shoulder instead

at this point Illumi is only sent on missions with you to make sure you actually do it

because otherwise you would never be anywhere on time...

you're able to handle your opponents just fine you just...rather not

which is part of the reason Illumi gets so irritated with you

you have so much potential yet don't utilize it

at this point the only solution he can think of is knocking you up (if ur capable of getting pregnant) and hoping the kids don't come out as lazy as you...

Chrollo Lucilfer

with him being the leader of the phantom troupe aka your boss you should probably listen to him without hesitation but your ass does not gaf

he's learned how to deal with you

he keeps candy in his coat pocket just as a bribe if you don't feel like doing something he's asking of you

when he runs out you begrudgingly do what he asks anyways but not without complaints

Chrollo doesn't really mind having to physically move you places himself, considering you do most of his bidding anyways

but that's only because he likes you <3

if you were anyone else he would leave them wherever and whether they get up and follow him back to base is up to them

and because he's so lenient with you you feel bad sometimes and end up sucking it up and walking yourself

he doesn't mind your laziness as much as the others because you get your job done and could probably beat him up if you wanted to so who is he to tell you how to live your life?

he never sends you on missions alone, he needs to be there to make sure you actually do it (no he doesn't he just can't be away from you for too long)

Feitan Portor

this man is on the verge of killing you.

what the hell is the point of Chrollo keeping you around if all you do is lay around doing nothing and talk back when asked to do something??

he swears you act like a 5 year old boy sometimes

when he needs something from you he will threaten physical harm but its actually just empty threats

theres no fighting within the troupe and no matter how much he wishes he didn't, he likes you

and surprisingly, his threats are incentive enough to get you up and moving

most of the time...

other times when you refuse to move or just flop onto the floor he is grabbing you by the ankle and dragging you the rest of the way to wherever you need to go

he doesn't care if you get scratched and bruised up, if you wanted to avoid that then you should've just gotten up and walked by yourself

sometimes to get you to do things the rest of the troupe offers you things on Feitan's behalf

"Hey if you get up and beat this guy's ass with us Feitan will carry you all the way home instead of dragging you" "Like hell I will"

after seeing you in action for the first time Feitan is even more upset that you're so insufferably lazy

you are quite literally one of the most valuable troupe members but you??? never want to follow orders?????? this is literally your job

you're lucky he likes you because if you were anyone else he'd leave you where ever you decided to lay down and let you die there

Phinks Magcub

this man is going to argue with you for DAYS

at this point he feels like you refuse to do anything just because it makes him mad

hes another one who tries using incentives but he never follows through with what he promises

when you ragdoll he will begrudgingly carry you wherever you need to go

this guy battles your laziness with loud, annoying and never ending complaints

and tbh? it actually works most of the time

he gets so annoying that ur like "FINE FINE I'LL DO IT JUST SHUT UP ALREADY"

if you catch him on a good day he'll carry you/give you a piggy back ride without complaints

sometimes he uses your laziness as an excuse just to hold you <3

sry this one is so short I cant think of anything

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pedgito · 9 months

Note

Hi Ali!! I love your writing and I was wondering if I can request dom Joel punishing you by riding his boot??

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary | joel doesn't like gifts, you gift him new boots. [3k]

pairing | joel miller x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, as always: no use of y/n, soft dom/sub dynamic, boot-riding, degradation kink, unprotected piv, one (1) face slap, porn with absolutely no plot.

author’s note | original working title for this was new boot goofin' because i can't take myself seriously, idk what this is but enjoy. kel (@beskarandblasters) suggested the actual title for this so thank you babe ♡

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic recs

Three things about Joel you were intensely sure of—he was a strong lover. He loved hard and he cared even harder, always willing to put your needs before his own, even to an unhealthy degree in some cases. Two, he liked to be in charge. With his willingness to put you before him, it also lended him to enjoy the role of being dominant in the right situations. He kept a lot of himself locked up around everyone but you. Through the few years you two have become close and started this relationship—if you could call it that—there’s a solid understanding of each other’s needs. He provides the domineering nature you crave and you subdued yourself to him willingly when he puts the facade on.

At first, it never left the bedroom. You both enjoyed the disguise of the dynamics to make things flow easier, not allow things to stall out so quickly and you had all the proper safety precautions in place to allow you both the happiness you seeked out. But, as most things in your life, they seeped through the cracks and bled out, intermingling with the rest of your daily life.

Sometimes it was just a look when you’d say something in public that was indecent or a comment that made Joel’s face go hot, knowing that despite his openness in public, he was still a very private man. He reserved that side for you and only you. And he did so much for you—not just around Jackson, but in your own home. With him being the lead guy for patrols and having such a…special relationship with him, it lended for more leniency when you weren’t feeling great or needed a break from the hectic energy that patrolling liked to suffocate people with, always on the brink of danger. And Joel was always too handy for his own good—always finding a reason to fix up a broken something in your own small house on the outskirts of Jackson.

Broken pipe? Fixed. Chair broken? Joel could shape you out a new one in a couple weeks.

Last week he had repainted then entirety of your kitchen cabinets because he thought they were looking a little dull—as if they weren’t run down from years of abandonment and like this wasn’t the fucking apocalypse. Despite that, you felt the urge to thank Joel. And not just thank him.

Properly. With a gift.

But—oh. Third thing, Joel hated gifts.

Despised them.

But, you weren’t always the best listener or rule follower.

A patrol with Tommy had you both scheming up an idea when you bring up the option of gifting something to Joel as a proper offering of appreciation, his hand resting loosely on the rifle slung around his chest, fingers tapping against the butt.

“Well—you know, there’s a clothing store a few miles east,” Tommy tells you, “Ellie and I found it when we cleared out that hoard a few months back—lotsa clothes and shoes, mostly untouched. We could check that out? I need to grab a few things myself anyways.”

You nod easily, “Yeah—that pair he has is falling apart. It drives me insane.”

“Joel doesn’t like to let go of things easily,” Tommy comments broadly, “He’ll make do with what he’s got until it falls apart.”

“Well, he doesn’t take no for an answer when I tell him to stop helpin’ me so he’s gonna have to suck it up just this once.” You smile slightly, earning a soft chuckle from Tommy.

You hoped it would go over well—because Joel did need new boots and there was little harm in an innocent gift…right?

–

Joel is brimming with an energy that only accompanied him after long patrols, the ones that lasted a few days and kept him away. Away from his home, away from you. He doesn’t even attempt the trek toward his own house, rather taking the first right and beelining for your small house at the end of the neighborhood, squeezing his leather covered hands into fists.

He’s anxious, pent up—not with anger or rage, but just a need to release some built up stress. Fortunately, he knew the perfect way to do that. His boots squeak against the hardwood of your front deck, the tattered rubber around the toe of his boot hanging on by a thread as he kicks it gently into the base of the door softly, idle as he busies his mind and prays that you’re still awake.

You’ve been waiting for him all day, his gift hidden away safely as you yank the door open excitedly, nearly tripping over your own pair of haphazardly thrown shoes on the floor.

Joel lets out a soft oof as he catches you, chuckling at your bright and beaming smile.

“Someone’s excited,” Joel chides playfully, though his voice is gruff. He sounds tired, looks it too, “been missin’ me, baby?”

You nod immediately, “So much,” You press a gentle kiss to his lips as he kicks the front door closed with his foot, slowly removing his layers—thick coat falling first, then his thinner jacket he wore underneath to leave him in a thick thermal, his skin still prickling with the winter chill but quickly warming underneath your touch, “everything go okay?”

“Yeah—just a bad storm comin’ in,” Joel explains, ignoring how distracted you were, allowing the soft pecks to his skin as you pulled away, slowly inserting yourself into his line of sight, mischievous grin plastered across your face, “—what are you up to, darlin’?

“Got a surprise for you,” You tease playfully, feeling his thick, calloused fingers slip under the thin material of your shirt, subconsciously seeking some contact with you, “can you go sit on the couch and close your eyes?”

Joel didn’t take too well to surprises, but he trusts you. So, he nods quietly, though there’s a slight hesitance to him as he takes a seat on the couch, slowly unlacing his boots in your absence to relieve some pressure but not taking them off completely, the tongue of the boot hanging lifelessly over his even more pathetic looking laces.

He can hear your soft footsteps as they approach, bare feet against the wood flooring as the couch dips slightly and he feels something hard and solid pressed into his hands.

“Okay, open ‘em,” You tell him gently, watching as he blinks his eyes open, expression mostly unchanging—it wasn’t unlike him to have little reaction, but it did worry you slightly, “—surprise?”

Okay, terrible idea. Got it.

“Darlin’,” God, you’ve heard that tone before, body tensing slightly, “I thought I told you I don’t need nothin’ in return from you.”

“Joel—you’re constantly helping me,” You argue softly, “it’s the least I could do. Plus, you need a new pair.”

“That’s not the point,” Joel tells you, “I do that stuff ‘cause I like knowin’ you’re comfortable, that you don’t have anything to worry about while I’m away.”

“And I worry about you too,” You interject quickly, “Joel—it’s just a gift, it’s okay.”

Joel places them on the table in front of him silently, contemplating thoughtfully.

He’s made it clear on several occasions that he doesn’t like things in return. That he does these things without the expectation of anything in return, but he appreciates the gesture. Joel isn’t used to people caring for him and it feels odd to allow it. And he sees the nervous energy inside of you brimming, like you’ve made a bad choice and you deserve the punishment.

Almost begged for it.

Your fists curl nervously in your lap, waiting for any sign that Joel had to offer.

And when he doesn’t respond, you find yourself curling into him out of instinct. Thighs spreading out over his lap as his hands follow the trail from your knees, up your thighs, until his thumbs are settling in the crease of your pelvis. You attempt a gentle kiss, but he’s reluctant to return it.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask quietly, a genuine curiosity in your voice.

Joel shakes his head slightly, but the hand guiding its way around your neck tells a different story, his fingertips rubbing against the softness of your jawline, forcing you to look at him properly.

“Nothin’ wrong, but I do think I need to remind you of somethin’,” Joel explains in a soft, but demeaning tone, “that when I tell you I can provide for you and don’t need anything in return—that I mean that.”

You wait with baited breath, blinking rapidly at how hot his breath feels against your skin, feeling your cunt throb with need, with an insatiable want for him.

“And since you wanna buy me a new pair of boots—well,” Joel chuckles darkly, feeling your fingers tighten into the thick fabric of his thermal, “you’re gonna have to help me break ‘em in.”

You look at him, perplexed. But, his pupils dilate under your gaze, the subtle shifting as he kicks off his old, tattered boots as nods subtly to the new pair behind you.

You sigh breathily, “Huh—Oh, you want me to—”

“Ride my boot, baby,” He tells you clearly, “Seein’ as it is my gift and all.”

There wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as you slipped from his lap, table skidding back deftly in the process—you grab for the new pair of work boots but Joel is quickly grabbing your face again, squeezing your cheeks sharply.

“Undress first.” Joel says, waiting for your nod of acknowledgement before he lets you go.

So, you do—layer by layer until you reach your bra, unhooking it with nimble fingers as he slips on his new boots. If this were anyone else, you would feel ridiculous. But, with Joel, there was something there, brewing on the surface. He respected you, but he also needed you to understand.

It was a little humiliating, but it wasn’t the worst thing.

Your fingers edge along the hem of your underwear when Joel stops your hands, “Keep those on.” He utters, his fingers dragging softly against the front of the cotton material until he’s cupping your pussy in his palm, soft wet spot growing in the fabric where his fingertips drag across—you’re enjoying this, clearly.

You lower yourself slowly, straddling his left leg with your knees tucked against the bottom of the couch he sat on, pressing your cunt against the cold leather of his steel-toed boot.

Joel relaxes then, arms spread wide over the back of the couch, fingers gripping loosely into the cushion. “Don’t be shy, sweetheart.” Joel comforts, sensing your brimming nervousness as your fingers trailed along his calf, the hard press of his boot right against your core and if you tried hard enough, it wouldn’t take long at all—knowing that even just a little bit of encouragement from Joel and friction could have you coming undone. But, he wants you to work for it.

You start slow, a subtle grind of your hips that shouldn’t feel as good as it does. You sigh softly at the relief, noticing the slowly growing smirk on Joel’s face that you’re trying to avoid, eyes falling shut slowly as you tip your head back, allowing a slow rhythm to start.

“Feels good?” Joel wonders, “Like the idea of me carryin’ somethin’ of you around with me?”

In more ways than one—by a simple gift from the kindness of your heart, but also the desperation of the slick that damped your underwear and painted a perfect mess over his boot.

You nod quietly, moaning softly as you angle your hips to allow the drag of your clit over the solidness of the boot, friction sending your eyes rolling back in your head, hands fisting into the thick denim and selfishly using it for leverage as you quickened your pace.

“That’s right, baby—want you to think about coming all over my boot for me,” Joel encourages, “can you do that?”

Truthfully, you were holding back. Seeing just how much you could get out of him.

But, Joel catches onto your game.

“You need a little encouragement?” Joel asks curiously, chin cupped in his strong grip, nodding obediently. “Think you deserve that, baby?”

“Please—please, Joel.” You beg, “Fuck—please, I’ll do—”

“Don’t say anything, darlin’.” He warns, “Not when you don’t know what that means for you.”

He keeps your eyes locked on his, squeezing your cheeks gently when you start to fade, the slowly building tingle in your core that wasn’t as easily ignorable now, coiled in your belly and ready to explode. You lose yourself for a brief second, hand fisting into the slack bunch of denim atop his thigh, earning a dull but stern slap to your cheek to bring your attention back to him.

“Eyes on me, baby,” Joel coos, fisting the hard line of his cock under the strained denim with his free hand, looking slightly pained at how much he was holding back himself, “look at you—always eager to please, huh?”

You roll your eyes slightly—and Joel really doesn’t like that. His hand cradling the base of your neck as he holds you still, body pulled just centimeters away from his boot, leaving your pussy throbbing with a lack of contact that your body craved.

“Now you just look a little pathetic, don’t you?” Joel asks, “All needy for my fuckin’ boot—got her beggin’ for it, don’t I?” And you know he’s not addressing you directly, rather the pool of your own slick, shiny wetness on the toe of his boot that gives you away.

He nudges it against your clit gently, earning a soft whine as you hips instinctively seek for friction—Joel takes a slightly more firmer stance, head cradling both of his hands as he holds you prisoner in his gaze, two thick fingers slipping into your open mouth and grinning at how pathetically and greedily you suck on the digits without having to be told, removing them with a loud pop and a thin string of spit that connects you to him.

And if he was a stronger man, he could hold off. But, he’s so weak around you he can’t even hide it. He lets go in an instant, reaching for the front of his own jeans as he shoves them down his hips until he can manage to slip his cock out over his underwear, fisting himself in an instant.

Staving himself on patrols was torture when all he could think about was you—so he knows it won’t take much. Hell, he’s surprised with how long he’s been able to hold off now.

You admire with a haughty gaze, slowly resting back against the base of his boot, watching his free hand slip under his heavy sack, massaging as he jerks his fist without much rhythm, blinded by his own selfish need for release.

“Keep goin’,” He encourages through a tight breath, “but don’t fuckin’ come, darlin’.”

Your hole clenches and flutters around nothing, wishing that it was his cock stuffed inside of you rather than the plane of his boot pressed against your pussy, the thickness of his fingers alongside the girthiness of his cock a blatant reminder of how deeply you felt him in the mornings and even days after, always fucked so throughly it had you reeling and constantly crawling back for more.

He jerks himself selfishly, eyes falling shut as he feels himself dragging too close to the edge, your moans gaining in intensity, knowing how pathetic you would both look to anyone else. But, there was no one to judge you here—and Joel was beyond feeling the need to be assertive, rather just needing you, to be inside you and have you snug around him and crying on his cock.

Joel pulls you out of your daze hastily, manhandling you until you’re back is flat against the couch, quickly shoving his jeans down far enough that they don’t become a hindrance as he pulls your underwear aside and slips inside of you with a solid push of his hips, the slickness of your cunt allowing no resistance as you both groan at how good it feels, eyes connecting for a brief moment before everything goes black…or white.

Joel isn’t sure what he sees, but it only takes a few minutes of some hurried and desperate pumps of his hips as his cock nudges that particular spot deep inside of you that has you clawing at the bare skin you could reach, leaving red marks on his neck as he snaps his hips with a finality, coming with a low groan that has your legs shaking, bent nearly in half as he still manages to see through his own haze and drag his fingers over your clit—it doesn’t take more than a couple seconds before you're there, spasming around his cock with a sob, gasping at his overstimulating touch as he continues to press and circle your clit until you’re begging him to stop, his hips slowly pumping his cum inside of you.

Joel finds himself laying slack against you, pants down at his ankles as he allows your fingers to thread through his grown out curls from where his head rests against your chest, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

“I appreciate the boots,” He says after a while, “if that wasn’t already obvious.”

“Oh, I’m aware.” You giggle softly.

“Seriously, no more gifts, though.” Joel says sternly, “I mean it.”

You pout slightly and Joel catches it, his eyes flicking up to look at you.

“I’m makin’ no promises to that.” You tell him truthfully.

Joel chuckles softly, “Can’t say I expected you to, either.”

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x fem!reader #my writing #pedrostories

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windvexer · 8 months

Text

the Chicken furthermore tries to convince you to practice sorcery in a fun and fulfilling way

There is a difference between practicing goal-oriented practical sorcery, and placing the entire value of your sorcery on whether or not you achieved the goal. One of these things is soul-crushing.

Practicing sorcery should be it's own reward. The actual steps you are performing should be stuff that you like, or thrills you, or captures your fascination. As an activity, practicing sorcery should be satisfying regardless of whether or not the spellwork manifests properly.

If the sorcery on your plate is not satisfying, compost it and return to the endless buffet and try a different type of sorcery.

If you do not have the things you need, your first step to a spell becomes innovation. What is the purpose of the thing in the spell, and how can it be replaced?

A spell can be cast with a length of string, or a paper and pen. Or with a bit of crayon. Or a dead fly. Or with just you.

Sorcerous knowledge tends to reveal itself when the clutter of correspondences is placed aside, so having few things to practice with is not a curse.

You do not need an interpersonal spiritual friendship with every single spirit you want to work with in magic. YOU DO NOT.

Interpersonal friend relationships with spirits should probably be reserved for very special spirits in your "inner court," the beings with which you choose to share your life and that you honor as teachers and guides.

Many spirits are pleased to assist with magic, but have no interest in getting to know us personally.

Imagine if everyone in your askbox wanted to ask you for help on something you're knowledgeable about, but instead of just asking for help, they first wanted to DM you for a few weeks to make sure you're comfortable with being asked for help, meanwhile on your correspondence chart pinned post it says "I can help with [topic]! Just ask!"

Asking spirits for help in magic is a good, valid way to start building a relationship with them.

Repeatedly calling on the same spirit or type of spirit over and over in spellwork is a fantastic way to deepen your relationship with them.

Working with a spirit in magic does not mean you are obligated to build a shrine to it, venerate it, talk to it outside of spellwork, or any of that.

Practicing sorcery is not the same thing as casting a spell. Practicing sorcery also means practicing the composite skills which come together to make a spell.

A spell is like a completed painting. But to make that painting, the artist needed several skills: the ability to sketch the scene, knowledge of how to apply and work with their paint, color theory, an understanding of how to render landscapes, and so forth. As a sorcerer, your skillset might be imbuing intent, raising energy, centering and grounding, practicing trance, practicing psychism or divination, etc. As you gain familiarity with these things, spells become less like an imposing stranger, and more like someone you're sure you've met before.

Practice can be it's own reward, but discipline is often required for progress.

Raising energy once a day, forever? I think not.

Raising energy once a day for seven days? Or, dedicating to doing it a total of ten times this month? Perhaps so.

An artist may not be in love with every single step of the process, and sometimes a sorcerer may have to get good at a skill that's not their favorite. But if no part of the process sparks joy, then something is wrong.

Sucking at something is the first step to being kind of good at something. Be reasonable with yourself: does the beginner artist doodle a landscape, then look at their work and declare that their art "doesn't work"?

Not every witch is talented at every sort of sorcery. Not creating a potent prosperity spell after five tries doesn't mean you're bad at magic. It might mean that your current understanding of prosperity magic precludes good results, or that you are casting on one very intransigent situation, or that your true talents lie in destruction and chaos instead of peaceful growth.

Set practice goals, give it an honest go, and move on when the time is right: "I am going to practice raising Fire energy and putting it into this stone using the Pore Breathing method. I'm going to do it fifteen times." (3 months later): "That sucked and it never worked, but I did it all fifteen times. Next I'm going to do a grounded roots visualization and use it to channel water energy to cleanse my room." (10 days later): "That was awesome, I want to do it more than 15 times."

Play around and be silly with it. Taking your path seriously is not the same thing as taking your path somberly.

Sports teams practice drills to be ready for game day. Sorcerers are wise to take a page from their book, because when real-life game day arrives, it feels much better to deal with it when you know you've been having pretty good success with channeling water energies, so maybe it's best to do something with that, because you can't move fire for dick.

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crystcrm · 1 year

Note

i share ur struggle.. i ACHE for gepard or welt content so hopefully i could request for something like that? im js gonna throw a bunch of ideas and you can choose whichever

relationship hcs (what he’d be like, how does he show his love etc)

sleeping together (take this whichever way you want)

cooking together in the kitchen (im a whore for this stuff idk why😭)

bedroom hcs (kinks, fav positions, literally anything i need it so bad)

KISSING IN THE SNOW W GEPARD😞

anon i hope you know this ask gave me like 5000 braincells. like suddenly i am THINKING. it's so insane how one little ask full of random blurbs gave me so much life to write even just the smallest things.

literally welt and gepard are my two faves rn, i'm fr just waiting for jing yuan to come out. jing yuan my beloved <3<3

but anyway, as for this little ask, i think we'll ease into the hsr content with some fluff ( i am all due for it anyway, i have Not been writing and i also need the fluff because my god does life hit hard ) so sit tight >:)

love and cherishing you ♡ ;; various x gn!reader headcanons

content;- sfw , fluff , headcanons list , how some hsr boys show their love for you ♡♡ , overall just really fluffy because i need toothrotting stomach ache inducing head swirling sweet fluff sometimes... , nothing about getting together but just general hcs on what they'd be like in a relationship , reader is nooooot...? the trailblazer but could possibly be interpreted as such if you squint

characters inc:- welt yang , gepard landau ( includes post-belobog arc content, not extremely spoilery but take note that i chose after the jarillo-vi conclusion to open up more opportunities >:3 )

together with welt yang . . .

welt has lived life longer than perhaps anyone on the express, being from another world and used to living as the first ( second generation ) herrscher of reason, a herrscher that sided with humanity. he didn't expect to get sucked into another adventure, one where he'll meet many companions, see unbelievable sights or even... fall in love.

he's an old soul, yet his heart still has a grand passion for what he does. the fire within him burns, and perhaps, you stoke the flames. a motivation unlike any other to show you the wonders of the galaxy— of every world.

his love is not the most openly shown, an old man can be embarrassed sometimes. especially in the face of his family of the astral express. his affections for you are for you two only. his touches, his words, the little things that make sparks fly are all special and meant for your ears and eyes only. be it in the privacy of his room, or late nights when everyone else is fast asleep, he'll always find a way to make his love for you known when nobody else is looking.

time together with you is always time well spent. he enjoys it perhaps just a little more than going on adventures with everyone. you could be doing anything, and he wouldn't mind simply sitting in silence together with you. it's comforting, relaxing. it's moments like these where he gets to unwind with you. it's essentially a recharge— he doesn't even have to hold you ( but if you'd like that, he'd be more than happy to ).

he used to be an artist— an animation storyboard artist. his skills on paper would definitely outmatch the rest of the crew. he already likes to have his experiences captured in little drawings in his notebook. well, you happen to be one big, long lasting experience. one that he can't wait to see what more comes while experiencing it. you swear that you can catch him gazing at you every other day, and you always see his pencil moving across the papers in his book. inside are sketches of you in all your beauty, how he adores you, even complete with little notes about the things you like.

he wishes to show you the world, all there is to be seen across the entire galaxy. he will be there, to guide you, to accompany you. it's not that he doesn't trust the rest of the crew, but really, this is the closest thing to a date you've ever gotten. taking in the sights of new worlds, creating new memories together, and maybe getting tossed in a bit of trouble along the way. sure, it may be tiring or troublesome, but he wouldn't want to face it with anyone else.

those that come across him know him as welt yang, but this is the name he has inherited. he doesn't tell it often, perhaps, but at least you know him. the real him. he's not just welt to you, but also joachim. it is something he entrusted to you, who he is, who he once was, who he shall become— everything about him.

he adores you, and all your entirety. you are like a burning star in the galaxy above, one that burns with him.

together with gepard landau . . .

gepard, captain of the silvermane guards is a busy, busy man. between his duties as captain and his daily life, he does his best to find time for you. his lack of charm is exactly what makes him charming, some may say. he's no nonsense, stubborn, "famously uncompromising" ( as his sister claims ) with an unmatched loyalty. it sounds horrendous, but perhaps that's exactly why you love him.

you tell him he should prioritise his duty first and foremost, he is an important figure in belobog, after all. and he does, he stubbornly commits to it. even if he can see in your eyes that you're hesitantly letting him go again. it's in these rare moments that he gives you a small, warming smile and a gentle embrace— he tells you that he'll do his best, for the preservation of belobog, for its people— and most importantly, you.

bothering him on patrol isn't one of your favourite activites, there are definitely more enriching things out there, but you still do it from time to time. usually, it's when the nights are a little colder and you can't seem to sleep. it's the same old thing, each and every time. he tells you you should get home, but not after a quick walk together with him. you'd chat about the little things, and he'd even shyly try to hold your hand in such a moment. after that, he personally escorts you back to your residence, and never forgetting to leave without a kiss goodnight. it may be a simple kiss on the back of your hand, or you might get up for a quick kiss on the cheek. you don't know what you do to him.

gepard doesn't strike me as a type that knows a lot in this area. he was born and raised as a noble child, and then went straight into becoming a protector of the city he grew up in. he'd feel a little flustered at a few things, the ideas and thoughts that come to him while together with you. he's even more embarrassed as he goes to his sister for advice on how to deal with such emotions. he reads books, fiction of romance that he does best to turn into your reality. it's not perfect— he's still clueless on what's a really good date— but he's always trying harder just for you.

it's not often that he gets free time, but once he does, he's quick to seek you out... after his sister of course. for many good reasons, actually. other than the usual check in with his sister he loves so dearly, she is more helpful than most others despite her teasing. serval is a big source of support in his relationship with you, not to say you two can't handle it yourselves. he's just rather clueless about love as a whole sometimes, and she's there to give him a little nudge in the right direction. thanks to her, gepard brought you flowers once, and he does it every so often.

never underestimate the lengths he'd go for you. he may be constantly out there in the front lines trying to combat the antimatter legion and the fragmentum, and he may be busy with training the guards or some other silvermane business, but he would always keep you in mind. you're part of his motivation, and you've grown to be the biggest part of it. you could tell him it's nothing important, if you ask for something, like a favour or likewise, but because it's you, he'll put it right at the top of his priorities. you are his priority.

dates are difficult, especially when you're captain of the guards. walking around with him attracts more attention than any other thing, but it doesn't stop him from inviting you out. the luxuries of belobog would be easy for him to indulge in, as a landau and as captain, but truly, simply spending time with him is enough. your favourite dates are ones where you freely walk aimlessly in the day, perhaps after a bite to eat. fresh snowfall is light upon the city streets, unlike the eternal freeze. you find it hard to resist temptation, letting yourself be swept off your feet for a sweet kiss in the everlasting winter snow.

gepard landau has an immense lack of charm. he's stubborn, he's uncompromising, and maybe even a little dense or a little blunt. but the brighter side of these qualities always show around you. he'll find a way to see you, and he won't rest until he has. his lack of knowledge in this department has him cutely flustered from time to time, but also has him doing unknowingly romantic things. he loves you, and he wants you to know that.

#crysts.corner #trailblazer.cryst #welt yang #hsr welt #welt x reader #hsr welt x reader #welt yang x reader #gepard #gepard landau #hsr gepard #gepard x reader #hsr gepard x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai: star rail #honkai star rail

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fluentmoviequoter · 6 months

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It's Your Life, But Let Me In

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: You overhear Chris and Molly giving Street a hard time and ignoring his boundaries. When you encourage him to make his own decisions and remind him that you are with him, he realizes how different you are.

Warnings: spoilers for and dialogue from S.W.A.T. 4x7 "Under Fire", angst to fluff, Chris and Molly, love confession, kissing

Word Count: 3.8k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“Luca needs to get back from Germany,” you bemoan. “I’m starving.”

“There’s this crazy new thing called cooking for yourself. You should try it sometime,” Hondo replies with a smile.

“I have tried and it’s not the same.”

Hondo rolls his eyes and pats your shoulder as Lieutenant Lynch enters S.W.A.T. HQ.

“What are you doing here so early?” she asks you.

“Nothing better to do.”

“Wow. Thanks for that,” Hondo interjects. “I’m not going to let you visit Street anymore if you’re going to treat me like this.”

“You should blame yourself for sending Luca away. I’m irritable because I’m hungry.”

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Across town, Street is facing a similar problem of being hungry in Luca’s absence. He’s taken a different approach: less complaining and more cooking for himself and Molly.

“Maybe not as tasty as Luca’s special breakfast burritos, but, uh, as long as he’s in Germany, it’s gonna have to do.” He sees the time and adds, “I’m running late. Would you mind plating these? I’ll be right back.”

“Plating?” Molly repeats. “Think maybe we need to stop binging those cooking shows.”

As she moves the food from the pan onto the prepared plates, three plates she notices but doesn’t stop to wonder why, Jim’s phone begins vibrating on the table.

“Babe, your phone!” Molly calls. When she doesn’t receive a reply, she looks at the caller ID: State Prison Lancaster. “I think it’s your mom!” she adds.

After two more vibrations, she answers and says, “Jim Street’s phone.”

“This is a collect call from state prison inmate Karen Street. Will you accept the charges?” an automated voice asks.

“Yes.” When the line connects, Molly begins, “Mrs. Street, my name is Molly. I’m Jim’s girlfriend.”

While Molly answers his phone, Street gathers his things and thinks of you. You’re supposed to stop by the station this morning to visit, and he’s planning to take you some food because he knows you miss Luca’s incredible meals as much as he does. Upon returning from the bedroom, he sees Molly on the phone and asks, “Is that my phone?”

“Yes,” Molly answers, covering the microphone. “Just a sec, Mrs. Street. Here’s Jim.”

Street takes the phone and ends the call before sliding it into his pocket. He returns to the kitchen and shakes his head at his mom’s antics.

“Jim, what are you doing?” Molly asks. “That was your mom.”

“Yeah, I know. Why would you answer that?” Street replies.

“What if it was an emergency? Which it was. She’s really sick. Says they’ve got her at the prison infirmary.”

“She’s fine.”

“She didn’t sound fine.”

“I promise you it’s just another one of her scams to suck me back into her life.”

“If you’d talked to her, we’d know for sure, wouldn’t we?”

“There’s a reason that I never mention my mother to you. I’m done with her. She’s out of my life. I don’t want her anywhere near me, and I definitely don’t want you anywhere near her. Believe me, it’s for your own good.”

Molly stands in her place, unable to see where Street is coming from. She doesn’t understand why he is so comfortable leaving his mother alone, especially when she calls to tell him she’s not doing well.

“You know,” Molly says after a moment, “I’m going to be late. I’ll grab breakfast at work.”

“Molly,” Street calls after her. “Just wait a second, Molly.”

He sighs as the door closes behind her and sets the empty pan to the side. Street has never been great at relationships, but after Molly ignores his reasons and wishes, he’s not sure she is the woman worth fighting for, anyway.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“Good morning,” Deacon says as he looks over your shoulder.

You turn quickly and smile when you see Street walking toward you. He extends a covered bowl of food, and you gasp excitedly before thanking him. His close-lipped smile immediately clues you into the fact that something is wrong.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly.

“Yeah, I’m good. Enjoy the food.”

You nod and thank him again before he walks away with his team. After their morning meeting, you hope to spend a few more minutes with Street and get to the bottom of whatever bothers him. Years of friendship have brought you incredibly close to him, and you want him to know that you support him, no matter what he is going through. However, you also know that he is with Molly, so you respect that boundary, too. While you want to hug him, hold him tight, and promise that everything will be okay, that isn’t your place. Until he invites you in, you are happy being an onlooker in Street’s life.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“You made breakfast,” Chris muses as she shakes her head. “Guess that means Molly stayed over.”

“How’s that going?” Deacon asks. “You planning to settle down sometime soon?”

Street inhales before he shrugs. “I guess we’ll see how it works out.”

“Hey,” Hondo calls as he gestures for Street to hang back and talk to him. Once the rest of the team is out of earshot, Hondo says, “I haven’t heard much about your personal life recently. Your mom’s not still giving you trouble, is she?”

While you look for Street to thank him for the delicious breakfast, you accidentally stumble upon him talking to Hondo about his mom. You stop in a nearby hallway, and prepare to turn around to let Street finish his conversation privately. He tells you a lot about his life, and though you don’t know how big that is for him, you think you probably already know what he’s going to say: he has everything under control, even if he doesn’t, because he has trouble asking for help.

“I got it all handled," Street answers as expected.

“That’s not an answer. Talk to me,” Hondo replies.

“She tried to call me this morning from prison. Molly answered, she didn’t know any better.”

On that note, you do turn and walk away. Molly is not your friend, Street is, so now that the conversation has shifted, you feel wrong about eavesdropping further.

“That doesn’t sound handled. Your mom still locked up?”

“Yeah. Violating parole should’ve been just a year, max, but she’s still there, so it can only mean she’s still screwing up.”

“You don’t talk to her?”

“No. I mean, I did, early on a couple times. But it’s always the same old BS with her… How she’s a victim, how the C.O.s or the other prisoners aren’t treating her right. Nothing’s ever her fault.”

“She’s still blaming you for being there?”

“Probably. She was never exactly the forgiving type.”

“All right, look, kid. I’ve always tried to have your back where your mom’s concerned. Now, we banged heads over it early on, but when it comes down to it, you got to do what’s in your heart.”

Street nods, but lately, what his heart wants goes against what everyone around him thinks is right.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

“C’mon,” Chris says, “I have to do the boring part of the job and I could use some company.”

You nod and follow her into the kitchen and dining area of S.W.A.T. HQ. Technically, you were supposed to leave a while ago, but you’re still worried about Street and want to stay close in case he needs a friend. Yes, his teammates are also his friends, but since you don’t work with him daily, it is easier for him to open up to you. Or, at least, that’s the reason as you see it.

Chris gives you a few directions so you can help her and make the project go twice as fast. You work side-by-side and talk about your plans for the weekend. Even though you aren’t on the team, Street’s teammates always make you feel like part of the family when you stop by.

“So, any big weekend plans to tell Street how you actually feel?” Chris asks.

Luckily, the door opens before you can reply.

“Oh, hey,” Street says when he enters.

He smiles and asks what you’re still doing here, but you don’t get to answer before Molly walks in.

“Molly, what’s up?” Street asks.

You return your attention to your task, and you and Chris speed up to get out of the room as quickly as possible.

“I know you’re busy, but I called the prison to check on your mom.”

Once you hear that Molly crossed such a clear boundary, you freeze momentarily before growing desperate to escape this conversation.

“You did what?” Street demands.

“She wasn’t lying, Jim. I talked to a doctor, it’s something with her liver. They’re transferring her to a hospital for tests. It’s bad.”

“I told you, I want nothing to do with her. You know our history. Her- her drug abuse, alcohol, violence.”

“Every one of those things is consistent with her being abused,” Molly argues.

“Do not go making her a victim.”

You finish what you’re working on and look at Chris. She picks everything up and points hurriedly at the door. A tiny part of you wants to hear where this is going, but you and Street are too close to throw away your relationship over something he will tell you when he’s ready.

“Well, that was…” you begin as you walk into the hallway.

“It’s going to be a long day,” Chris sighs.

“Not what I was thinking,” you murmur.

You look back over your shoulder at the door and wish you could go in and encourage him to do whatever he wants, whatever he thinks is right. But Molly is in there, and you trust Street will always do the right thing no matter what she says.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Street watches you leave and wants to follow you, but Molly continues arguing.

“Babe, your mom is a victim. I deal with women like your mother all the time, their lives destroyed by the trauma of being abused and never getting help. Twenty years ago, she needed treatment, and all she’s had is a life of black eyes and incarceration.”

“This is my fault for having her locked up again?” Street questions.

“No. But, Jim, this is the woman who gave birth to you.”

“And dragged me through hell every day since. She betrayed me, she lied to me, she stole from me, she almost cost me my career at S.W.A.T. I can’t believe you’re taking her side on this.”

“I’m not taking sides.”

“Don’t you think maybe you should be? You know what? I can’t do this right now. I’m at work, okay? I just…” Street turns and walks toward the door as he finishes, “Can’t do this.”

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You leave the station soon after Street returns from his conversation with Molly. You plan to visit again when he gets off and remind him that you’re here for him, but he is at work and has more important things to focus on than his mom, girlfriend, or you. There’s a brief moment where you consider calling Luca and asking him to talk to Street. You decide against it because Jim probably doesn’t need anyone else in his business right now.

When you arrive at the station, Deacon sees you in the parking lot and insists you go inside. He noticed Street’s off attitude, too, and thinks you're the cure.

“Are you sure?” you ask quietly.

“He needs a friend. That’s you.”

You nod and walk into HQ. Street isn’t around, so you sit beside the locker room and are soon unintentionally eavesdropping for the third time today.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

At the end of the shift, after a long day of saving firefighters and finding a shooter, Chris and Street are in the locker room and preparing to leave. Street wants to go home, maybe call you, and then enjoy some alone time without anyone asking him what he is going to do, or worse, tell him what he should do.

“You figured out how you’re gonna make it right to Molly yet?” Chris asks.

“How I’m gonna make it right? I’m not the one who needs to apologize," Street replies.

“We got out of there as fast as we could, but I heard enough to know, you… You’ve got some fences to mend.”

“You also heard how she totally went behind my back with my mom.”

“Her motive being, what? Compassion? Giving a crap about women who’ve had a messed-up life?”

You pull your phone from your pocket and press Street’s number. He doesn’t answer, and you frown before standing. You don’t want to hear more than you have to, so you walk to the parking lot and wait beside Street’s bike. He exits the building alone and is clearly in no mood to talk, but you must ensure he knows that Molly and Chris are wrong. They have no say in his personal life and are never willing to be there for him.

“Hi,” you greet. “I know you’ve had a crazy day and you’re ready to get home, but I need to say something first.”

“Let me guess,” he begins defensively. “You’re going to tell me that I should go see my mom or apologize to Molly. Why not make it better and say both?”

You fight down a smile at his response. At least he hasn’t lost his personality in the day he’s had.

“Actually,” you reply, “I was going to tell you that Chris and Molly overstepped. None of these decisions are theirs, and, in the end, it’s your choice. Because your life is the one being most affected. I just thought you could use a reminder that no one gets to make these calls for you. It’s your life, Street. I, for one, am with you no matter what you decide to do.”

“What if I make the wrong decision?” he whispers. Every trace of defensiveness is gone in his clear doubt about the choices he faces.

“Then you’ll find a way to learn from it. I don’t think there is a wrong decision here; unless, of course, it’s not yours.”

“I really don’t want to talk to my mom.”

“Then don’t. You know you and you know her, so you know what is best for you and your relationship with her. If that’s no relationship, that’s your choice.”

“I don’t know.”

“But you will,” you promise. “You’ll make the best decision for the right reasons. You choose for you, not for anyone else, okay?”

Street nods slowly, and you wish him goodnight before you turn toward your car. Suddenly, you remember he is facing one more decision and spin to face him.

“One more thing, Street. You didn’t do anything wrong, you just stood up for yourself, so don’t apologize unless you think you need to. Don’t let anyone that’s not in your relationship into your relationship.”

“Thank you,” he calls after you.

You don’t see Street’s smile return as you enter your car, but your statements help him more than you thought they would.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

When Street texts Molly and asks her to come over, he fully expects her to say no, so when she knocks on the door a few minutes later, he’s surprised.

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he invites her in. “I wasn’t sure you would after today.”

“I’m here, so…” Molly begins. She trails off and waits for Jim to do something.

There’s an apology somewhere inside Street, where he says he was a jerk and makes excuses for his actions. However, your words are fresh in his mind, and he decides not to apologize. As he looks at Molly and compares what she said and did today to your words and actions, Street realizes something.

Whenever he thinks of taking the next step with Molly or one of the guys asks where he sees the relationship going, he can’t get past this point. Hondo joked that it was his inner playboy, but Street sees now that the issue was never him or a fear of commitment. It was Molly the whole time.

Since the beginning, Street knew that Molly wasn’t the right one, but he’s finally ready to admit it. Molly was never really there for him, never listened to him – still doesn’t, Street thinks – and she has never been respectful or careful of his boundaries.

“You may be expecting an apology,” Street says, “but I don’t think I need to give you one. I asked you to leave it alone, and you didn’t. I know you mean well, Molly, but I can’t keep doing this if you’re just going to go behind my back and ignore everything I say.”

“She’s your mother!” Molly argues. “You still have time to fix things with her.”

“That’s just it, though. I’m- I’m not sure I want to. Listen, Molly, I know that you lost your mother, and how devastating that was for you, but it’s not the same situation for me.”

Street’s mind drifts to you. He remembers what you said earlier and realizes it has always been you. You are the only person in his life who has always been with him, listened to him, supported him, and respected his feelings. You respect him and his boundaries no matter what. Unlike Chris and Molly, you’ve never tried to decide for him or make him see your reasoning, but you’ve been there to talk or listen when he needs it.

“Molly, look. I love you; I do. But not in the way that you deserve to be loved, or that I need to love whoever I spend my life with,” Street explains. “You will always be special to me, but I have to make my own choices.”

Molly wipes a tear as she asks, “Like what?”

“When to go get the girl,” Street answers quietly.

Molly nods and rushes out of Street’s house. He sighs before he follows her.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

A loud knock pulls your attention from the book in your lap, and you set it to the side before you slowly walk to the door.

“It’s me,” Street says from the other side.

You release a breath and open the door. It’s late, and you’re confused about why Street is knocking on your door when he’s supposed to be with Molly, but you let him in anyway. When he stops beside your table and stares at the book you left on it, completely silent, you grow less confused and more concerned.

“Street,” you say. You lay your hand on his arm and ask, “You’ve been different today. What’s bothering you?”

“You,” he whispers.

After you pull your hand away, shocked and heartbroken at his answer, he rushes to explain himself.

“No, listen,” he begs. “What you said earlier changed everything. You told me that it was my decision and that I didn’t have to do anything I didn’t want to, all that. But, when I was talking to Molly about how she doesn’t respect my decisions or my boundaries and tries to force her opinions about what I should do without knowing my reasons, I remembered you.”

You furrow your brows, and Street raises his hands to hold your shoulders.

“I appreciate you, so much. Not just for telling me what I deserve but for being that and so much more. You are the only person in my life that just lets me do what I need to do, and you’re by my side through all of it. Everything that you said I needed, I have in you. Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s your life, Street,” you reply. “But that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone.”

“You-“ Street begins again before trailing off. He doesn’t know how to express his feelings because he’s slowly realizing what he feels for you.

“Spit it out, Street,” you say with a smile. “I’m here to listen.”

Street shakes his head but lowers his voice to do as you say. “I loved Molly, but- but Molly didn’t just love me back. She tried to tell me how to love. And Chris- I don’t even know what Chris’s problem is; some days she wants to love and others she just wants to be loved, but never at the same time. It’s exhausting to deal with, but then she argues about what love looks like even though she can’t possibly know.”

You nod along, not sure what Street needs or wants to hear. Staying silent seems like the best option while he works through these thoughts. He’s saying the word love a lot, but never in the present tense or as an active feeling, you notice.

“But you… with you everything is shared. You love without expecting love in return, and you listen and remember. There has never been a moment with you where I felt pressured or ignored, and I love that about you.”

You smile and open your mouth to tell Street you’ll always be here for him, but he cuts you off.

“I love that about you,” he repeats. “I love you because you are everything I don’t deserve, but you make me feel deserved.”

After your eyes widen, you make a noise that sounds like a sob and a laugh. Street waits for you to say something, but you can’t beat the speech he just gave, so you raise your hands to his cheeks and nod. His eyes widen to match yours when a tear slides over the bump of your cheek as your smile returns.

“You said it’s my life, but I don’t have to do it alone, right?” Street murmurs as you step closer to him.

“Right.”

“Then, I think that I’d like to make you a bigger part of my life.”

You don’t hesitate to kiss him, and as he meets you in the middle, you think about how long you have wanted to be part of his life. Being near him was beautiful, but being by his side through everything will be an entirely new and perfect experience. You love Jim Street, and now that he loves you, too, you feel like a part of his life, not an accessory to it.

“I love you,” you say against his lips.

Street’s arms tighten around your waist, and he tilts his chin to kiss your forehead before standing.

“Did you break up with Molly before you came over here?” you whisper.

Street nods, and you bite your bottom lip before saying, “So, you’re giving me her position?”

“No,” Street promises with a laugh. “I’m giving you the position I should have given you a long time ago.”

You kiss Street quickly and laugh when he tries to follow you for more. “I promise to fill my position well, and to always listen to you, respect your boundaries…”

Street ducks his head, and his nose brushes against yours as he replies, “Maybe we could remove a few of our boundaries.”

He kisses you again, and you find that you like your new position in Jim Street’s life more than you ever anticipated.

#jim street x reader #hanna writes✯#jim street x fem!reader #jim street fluff #jim street #swat cbs #street x reader #jim street imagine #jim street fic #requests #fem!reader

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hollyhomburg · 1 year

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt. 56)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: In the wake of Namjoon’s rut you and Hobi try to get yourself back on even footing, if only his co workers weren’t so...creepy towards you.

Tags: Depression, anxiety, ptsd, hurt/comfort, fluff, excessive babying, courting, omegaspace, mommy kink, Mommy! Tae, nipple play, m/c sucks on tae’s tits for mental health reasons, Non-detailed sexual content, mentioned omegaspace sex, discussions of past abuse, discussions of mental health issues, eating disorder recovery, implied self-harm

W/c: 9.7k

A/N: LISTEN, i know the nipple play stuff might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but it reads very comforting if you’re willing to give it a chance. That being said it may go further into the realm of mommy kink than some of you are willing to go and toes the line into extreme kink as it highly sexualizes Tae’s brests and the m/c in omegaspace. It's not really nursing per say cuz there isn’t any milk involved, but the m/c does suck on tae’s breasts to soothe herself.

I tried to make it as ‘skippable’ as possible it’s under the section ‘Tae, sometime at night’ I firmly encourage you to skip it if you feel the need too.

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

(16 days post rut. The day after Halloween, Yoongi)

Yoongi lets out an inhuman screech.

He’s holding his sweater in his hands, nude from the waist up interrupted by his changing. Staring at you open-mouthed while Jungkook rolls in the remnants of your nest. Remnants- because you honestly hadn't put it together much after Namjoon's rut.

You’ve been spending the last few weeks slowly bringing everything upstairs, alternating between sleeping spots, not a single one of them still feels right. The pack had kept their mattress in the living room, but yours they'd moved back. Last night you spent your first night upstairs with Jimin, Jungkook, and Tae. Four pups all cute and nesty with the rest of the Halloween candy between the three of you in multicolored bowls.

Yoongi had gotten to watch as you all giggled and completely abused the projector he’d installed for a movie night of the Addams family and some horror movie that you'd changed in the first 15 minutes.

There are more and more moments where he gets to appreciate his hard work these days and he savors them whenever he can. He’d been a little worried that the bed would be too big or too small but it looks just the right size. Just enough space for the others.

After you’d fallen asleep, he’d carefully tiptoed around you and removed the bowls of candy, kissing each of your heads like a special spell to guard your dreams against monsters and cousin it.

Now Jungkook grins up from the last little bit of the nest that’s still down here, hugging a pillow to his chest, “I knew something happened.” It’s not often Yoongi squeaks, like a cat suddenly picked up, heart all in a tizzy just thinking about it.

“What do you mean you and Hobi kissed? And you didn’t tell me!?”

You go red ear to ear, “It wasn’t-I don’t even think he meant to do it- it wasn’t like a kiss kiss-“

“Ahh,” Jungkook drags out the syllable. Reaching for your hand and tugging you to sit. Closer, because Jungkook’s wandering fingers have half a mind of their own. You look so good- have been honestly glowing a bit since Namjoon’s rut, something about the health of you that makes him want to touch more and more.

His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs appreciatively and you squirm away, “Heat of-the-moment kisses are so hot- not to mention first kisses.”

Yoongi sits on the edge of the bed. Knees pulled together. “Tell me everything.”

Yoongi has always been terribly involved in your dating life in the beginning you'd gushed to him about every new kiss. The ones with Jk, a memory now as he drags his mouth up your waist, resting his cheek against the curve of your hips and smiling up at you. The one with Tae in that dressing room, your first soft moments with Jin and Namjoon. Everything. The fact that he hadn't heard about this one immediately after the fact stings only a little,

The rest is clouded over with excitement.

Hobi had initiated kisses. He’d been the one to break first.

Yoongi remembers how their relationship began with coyly phrased jabs said over dusty records not long after he'd broken up with his last pack and moved in. When they’d gone from best friends to sort of roommates and started spending almost every minute together.

Yoongi liked Hoseok. Just liked him. Liked seeing him smile. Heart skipping beats and saving them for him. Spending hours standing just far enough apart with some sleazy jazz playing over the loudspeakers and Hobi’s lips all mischievous. Their first kiss hanging there, on the edge, just where Yoongi could see it but not have it just yet. Teasing him endlessly.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were flirting with me Hoseok,"

"You'll know when I'm flirting hyung."

Hobi had turned off the jazz and turned on Yoongi’s favorite music instead and Yoongi had been substantially wooed just by that.

Hobi had been shy with the rest of the pack. Freer with Yoongi he said, because he always knew where he stood with him. Not like with the other alphas where Hobi had to worry about showing his throat or not- or Jungkook and Jin- where he had to worry if he has too dominant or not dominant enough. Their firsts had felt truly new, untied of expectations. Just loving. None of the other stuff.

Sometimes, Hobi still feels this way.

Now Yoongi watches you and knows how it feels, the way your eyelashes flutter as you look down and away, flopping back against the nest scent going sweet with the memory of it. "I bet it was so hot-" Koo chimes kicking his feet when he rolls onto his tummy and continues to pinch at your thighs, hand sliding up gradually under your baggy pajama shorts. Tickling the hairs there.

"Hobi’s such a good kisser too-“ The omega swoons and your belly swoops at the sound.

Yoongi licks his lips, trying not to think of it.

"It wasn't hot, it wasn't anything-" But the blush on your cheeks tells a different story. You groan, hiding your face in your hands. "I shouldn't have said anything." Yoongi gently pries your hands away from your face. His heart is racing a mile a minute like it's his first kiss and not yours.

"Even if it was something, I’d still be happy sweetheart.”

You bite your cheek; I just want to know if he regrets it. “I can’t ask him about it or I’ll make it weird.” You whine.

Jungkook’s fingers press into your chin, he looks awfully devilish, hair damp from a shower, his classes for the day passed. “You’ve been thinking about it a lot. That’s why you’ve been so quiet.”

You flush, but not for the reason he thinks.

The truth is you’ve been spending a lot more time on your own these days, painting the back-room space and finding excuses to head upstairs when everyone’s home, or downstairs when everyone goes up. There’s no reason. You tell yourself there’s no reason but-

Sometimes it’s hard, being sad without a cause. A gnawing emptiness like there's no point in enjoying anything anyways when sooner or later the rug will be yanked out from underneath you. A sense of a foreshortened future. An end that is simultaneously ridiculous to consider and yet nearby like a shadow in the corner of your eye that isn't there- not really.

Maybe it would be easier if you and Yoongi weren’t mated yet, and you’d have had that to look forward to. You’ve been thinking about mating marks a lot recently. Spending long hours looking at yours in the mirror, fingers hovering over the glass when you pull back blocking out parts of it with your fingertips. The parts that Geumjae left that you’ll never be able to quite get rid of.

You asked Jin about his and Namjoon’s the other day- but the omega had only sighed and told you not to worry about it.

You eagerly snap up the excuse handed to you now. It's better having them assume than explaining the real reason to them. For the most part, they believe you. Like there isn’t that taught line of something running through you like the very essence of you wants to snap. A discomfort at being happy.

A feeling like maybe, you don't deserve it.

If there is anything you deserve it’s certainly not Hobi’s smile when he comes home and asks you if you’ll help him move a few more plants in from outside. “You’ve got a good eye” he tells you. “I swear without you and Tae this place would look like a bachelor pad”

Hobi hasn’t been avoiding you since the rut but maybe it would be easier if he was.

He’s no less likely to ask you for late-night car rides, no less likely to bump shoulders with you playfully over dishes or offer you his headphone when he found you dozing two nights ago on the outdoor furniture. Your big blue blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders to keep out the fall chill.

He’d even accepted you when you held back the edge for him to get under. The warmth from his body trapped by it and transferred to yours as you talked. Mostly about Hobi’s job; his plans to leave early and help manage a specialty order from the city; nearly three thousand burgundy roses for a fall wedding.

“How do you even fit that many into a car?”

“Very, very carefully”

Last night as the pack had handed out Halloween candy, He’d been giggly and close. Eager to pick your favorite candy out of the bowl of bulk-bought candy bars and set them aside for you. He’d even given you a pair of little devil ears, similar to the halo on Tae’s head, a vision in a light pink dress that she’d been just itching to wear. The only one truly dressed up, the only one with the energy to go all out.

The fabric was soft and silky with cutouts for her body, which had you looping your hands around her waist at every available opportunity and maybe kissing places hidden when you’d helped her undress later, hands sneaking underneath the fabric just to touch.

No one had time to plan their outfits or decorate the house because of Namjoon’s rut. You improvised with eyeliner lined and drawn whiskers on Yoongi’s cheeks, grumbling half-heartedly as Tae dotted his nose with bright pink blush and attached a pair of cat ears to his head.

The one person who hadn’t escaped Hobi’s costumes was Noddle, hissy in his little black and yellow bee costume, you’d given him tuna as a special treat. The neighborhood kids had ooohd and ahhed at him in the window, grumpily guarding your house from any intruders.

It’s funny, noodle only hisses at the people dressed up as other cats.

Independent from your musings, your packmates hover on the edge of the bed. “who says you can’t ask him? Just talk to him-“ Yoongi tries to convince you.

"We can ask him for you!" Both of them pop up, their eyes all wide, matching black heads all fuzzy, your mate bobs his head, the picture of polite eagerness.

"Oh fuck no- You'll do no such thing-"

“Come on, let us play matchmaker with you."

A loud ring interrupts your conversation, coming from deep within the confines of your nest. It’s Yoongi's phone- discarded. Jungkook grins as he answers for him, smirking all the while.

"Hyung! We were just talking about you- No it's fine, Joonie forgot his lunch too-" Jungkook playfully shoves away Yoongi’s hand reaching for his phone. He pauses as Hobi says something on the other line.

Jungkook’s grin is nothing if not scheming.

"Yoongi's busy right now," he licks his lips, eyes on you. Yoongi is certainly not busy, the only thing he had planned for today was bringing Namjoon his lunch, another stop is hardly too much.

"But Y/n's free, I’ll have her drop it off. Bye, hyung. Love you too hyung."

~-~

Hobi is drawn to the front room of the flower shop because it’s his break time, someone forgot the last box of roses out back, and also because one of his coworkers is shouting again.

It's a semi-normal occurrence by any standard of measurement, but still, the sound of his shrill voice shouting in protest is just as grating as the feeling of dirt under Hobi’s fingernails.

They're sensitive and pricked too, he's spent the better part of the morning prepping the red roses, bundles, and bundles of them. The last one

He pauses, ignoring the commotion for as long as he can to take a sip of water, The cold drips down his throat, soothing the heat there. It might be cold at night but the lot out back is still unforgiving in the autumn sunlight, the occasional breeze telling stories of knit blankets and cozy sweatpants that Hobi will need within the month. He can’t wait for it to get colder.

The flower shop is structured in layers. The breakroom with the cubbies, a dilapidated old fridge, and a small table directly off the lot. A narrow hallway connects it first to the stock room and then to the counter and the retail space out front. The commotion comes from the stock room. The sound of a box falling over with a loud clang and then the softer sound of people arguing in hushed tones.

Three of his coworkers- two of which are the same ones who don't like him- shove each other to get through the door. One holding around the other middle.

"No, I've got this one-" Hobi stoops to pick up a roll of orange-red ribbon, half unrolled on the dusty floor.

"Come on- I took the granny for you this morning you owe me-"

"You're an omega, Felix."

"So? Like being a horndog is a uniquely alpha affliction?"

"Too late!" The third one darts through the door. Unencumbered by the other's scuffle. Tossing a kiss over his shoulder at the other two. Their frustrated groans resounding a hissed whisper. "Chan! You've already got an omega you don't need two-”

At his appearance, both of his coworkers straighten up. "What’s all the fuss about?" he asks with a tired sigh. Not that he really wants to make conversation with them about what client they're thirsting over this week. Hobi has never joined in with them, their near-running commentary on who comes into the shop.

“A pretty client.” It's nothing new, but what is new is the way that Hyunjin rolls his eyes and scoffs.

"Pretty is not a word reserved for the hottest omega I’ve seen this year- she looks like Kate Moss and Zendaya had a love child with an angel-" he swoons, Hobi sighs and pushes through them to put the ribbon back on its holder. They probably knocked it off in their scuffle, his two coworkers practically fall through the door after him.

Hobi blinks.

It's just you, standing in the doorway looking at the hanging epiphytes and other little suncatchers that hand in the flower shop windows. You’re wearing one of Tae's big sweaters that fall to your upper thigh and a pair of semi-translucent leggings. When your hands go up to touch a suncatcher Hobi can tell you’re wearing shorts underneath, but the implication that you might be not is still there. There’s A little bit of flour on your front from whatever you were baking today.

The first thing he notices is a band-aid on your finger.

His sleazy coworker lays it on thick, leaning over your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. You don’t seem to realize that he’s snuck up on you. Hobi watches as you flinch and step back, clutching a small pink package to your chest. Turning around quick.

Hobi swallows back a growl. Instincts grating.

"Can I help you find anything beautiful?” he drawls, casting you a dazzling grin that Hobi's sure has gotten him many first date.

"I was just-" Hobi drops a bouquet of roses into a nearby bucket with a loud thud. Your eyes shoot up, and Hobi sees the visceral way your shoulders relax, the way you instantly brighten.

"Hey! I got your lunch."

Hobi's coworkers splutter. Gazes darting between you and Hobi like they can’t make sense of it. “What?!" One of them hits him on the shoulder playfully like they're friends and Hobi's jaw ticks. "Yeah, Hobi what the fuck-"

Hobi's fingers are still on the roses as he looks at you, he doesn't tear his eyes away for a second, "She's my newest packmate," they've got a good sense to be embarrassed to try and recoup the situation.

“Oh- we didn't think Hobi could have such pretty packmates."

Oh, you don't like that one bit.

Your switch flips, Hobi sees you make the conscious decision to turn on the part of yourself that can be very charming, that makes his alpha ask ‘how high?’ if you even think about asking him to jump. You're very good at playing this game, encouraging their instincts out in just a few words.

You step closer looping your arm through Hobi's (He swears he won't be thinking about it later, how you push your body up against his just so, the faint warmth of your chest surrounding his upper arm, your fingers weakly tangling through his) You tilt your mating mark into the light so that they see it. tucking your hair behind your ear like you’re shy. your sleeve falls down, leaving your scent gland open to the bear air.

"You've obviously never met Jin then.” You pout up at him in mock distress, making it as cute as possible. “but- I would have thought he'd have told you all about me what with the car I gave him."

Hobi doesn’t believe your sudden sniffle for a second even though his face heats. And renewed incredulity hits their faces, near devastation that their written-off coworker has a packmate like this.

You blink back faux tears, “Did you not like it?” there is nothing cuter than a pretty pouty omega near crying because they think they've disappointed their alpha. Nothing that tugs on their instincts quite like this.

The men blink dumbly. This creature- is surely representative of another life, one that they hadn’t imagined for their coworker. Surely when they called Hobi a sugar baby, this isn’t what they had in mind.

"He talks about it so much!"

"I swear everyone slows down when they see it which is why the boss lets him park it out front."

"It's a really pretty car like really pretty," Felix says, eyes definitely not on your face but oh well.

Hobi grasps his little lunchbox hard, wrapped up in one of Tae's pink patterned silk scarves. Too intimidated to respond. You have them wrapped around your fingers in just a few words.

"Show me the flowers?" you offer, clearly done conversing with them, Hobi takes the easy out without a look in his coworkers’ direction.

The slick of the refrigerator doors slides close, blocking out the three of them clearly peering in. Your closeness is disguised by the condensation on the glass. Let them think something more of the way you stand close.

The mask falls in a second and where one moment you’d looked forcefully cute, the next, you just look tired.

"You're a menace."

You huff, wrapping your arms around your waist. "Only when I need to be"

"You didn't have to do that." He says because he doesn't know exactly what to say. How to express that he’s thankful without making it weird. Now that you've stepped away from the others there’s something vaguely wilted about you, something still. He’s noticed the last few days, since Namjoon’s rut if he’s being honest.

The truth is, nothing's been normal after Namjoon's rut.

The first day after Namjoon’s rut you’d avoided each other's company like the plague, fielding Namjoon’s numerous apologies and in general clingy behavior. But after a day or two you'd reached an unspoken agreement to just forget everything that had happened just like Jimin and Tae.

(That's a lie. Jimin and Tae have slept on opposite sides of every bed they've slept in in the last week.)

Hobi’s not sure why he thinks that there's something wrong, why he finds himself watching you and waiting. Measuring your plate at dinner for maybe the first time in weeks. Watching you when you cook, just…. keeping an eye on you in a way he might not have before.

Is it just him, or have you seemed less interested in cuddling and nesting as usual? There's something in you that just wants to get the nest in the upstairs over and done with and back to normal. Hobi had watched while he'd helped bring the countless blankets up there, every one of your movements rehearsed and perfunctory.

And yesterday, he’d walked into your room (your old room he should call it) And found you and Yoongi deep in conversation, sitting on the edge of your bed. And when Hobi had asked Yoongi had just said, “We’re gonna keep the nest in here for a few more days.” You'd ended up turning your bed around and tucking it into the wall by your dresser, making room for Tae's makeup desk.

At first, He thought that maybe he’d hurt you with his leaving. That you took it as an ultimate rejection of not only your friendship but your presence in the pack. But it seems like you’re as determined as he is to keep things as they were before. To act as though your relationship is just as it was. Just this. packmates that bring each other lunch and give each other cars and definitely step closer to make Hobi's nosey coworkers a little jealous.

Strange. All of it feels strange like deja vu. There’s a familiar stillness that he hasn’t seen in you in months really, not since late spring. Since before you started talking again only this time he's seeing the process in reverse.

You tap the lunch box with your fingertips, a faint flush coming to your cheeks, “Yoongi made it for you, not me.”

“Does it matter?” you flush harder, skin heating under his raised eyebrow,

“Yes.”

Hobi thinks your hands might be shaking a little bit when you gesture to the shelves piled high with flowers and buckets. "Which ones are your favorite anyway?" you ask, classic misdirection.

A few weeks ago Hobi had convinced his boss to order the flowers by color and not type to make arranging and picking out designs easier. Granted, Hobi is her most talented employee and the one she trusts most to handle their big-budget items like weddings and funerals so it was a relatively short argument.

This refrigerator is a mess of cream pinks, whites, and yellows. The big dinner plate-sized sunflowers hovering around your knees, and the dusty roses at the ceiling.

He points at the simple daisies, is it just his imagination, or do you make your giggle just a little bit louder, leaning into his arm. Hobi swears one of his coworkers is going to burst a blood vessel with how hard he's trying to contain his screech of indignation. You just grin and roll your eyes.

“Are you trying to make my life easier or harder?” He can’t stop his smile though, no matter how much he wants to.

“A bit of both probably.” You lean in close, the way an omega would to an alpha they were flirting with. Let them wonder what we’re saying, let them wonder what I mean by this. Your fingers dance over a nearby bucket, skimming the velvet soft blooms, “I would have pinned you for a Lily type of guy."

Hobi fingers one of the long stems, playing with it too. "Nah, these are Jungkook’s favorite, not mine." Hobi's shy when it comes to you, but still, he musters up the courage to take a spare bloom of daisy and tuck it behind your ear.

"As a thank you, for my lunch. Jungkook shouldn’t have made you come all the way here."

You shrug, "It’s no big deal. I- ugh- i put a few chocolates in there, the coconut ones." You might have noticed Hobi grabbing some last night, and he gravitated toward those in the big bowl of Halloween candy. Seeking out the little blue packages.

"I like those," he says, but you already know that.

There’s a loud crash, and when you look back Hobi’s coworkers have knocked one of the dysplays over in their quest for a better vantage point. they scramble to put it back together and look busy like they weren’t watching you.

Chan gives him a thumbs up and Hobi scoffs.

“I’m sorry for them.” He says, “They’re kind of always like this,” his jaw ticks. Some alphas have no manners.

You shrug, “It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Are those the same ones that say shit about you behind your back?”

“Yes.”

You hesitate for a moment, standing toe to toe with him. “We should give them something else to talk about then.” Hobi’s hands are hard on the lunch box.

You step closer. Your worn boots brushing his sneakers as you lean up on your tippy toes. The scent mark looks more intimate that it is as you lightly drag your cheek down Hobi's neck. You know how to make it look sensual.

His caramel scent and your baked one together smell like flan or maybe something vaguely that belongs in the family of a Snickers bar, sparking hot and heady. Filling the refrigerator with it and the smell of flowers. He catches your waist, alarmed but not entirely displeased.

It has the desired effect.

Hobi sees the other alphas, the way their egos deflate. Tail tucked between their legs. Immediately looking dejected. Hobi barely has time to process your hand threading through the hair at the back of his neck, the way you sway closer before you're darting away.

He catches you just before you pass back through the refrigerator doors (you should know better than to run from an alpha, there's hardly anything more exciting than the prospect of a chase). A real giggle fills the small space making the other 3 perk up. Hobi can’t stop himself from smiling even if he feels a little dizzy.

He catches your hand, tugging you a little bit back. “Hang out with me? Later?”

The stillness in you eases just a little, and your smile is twice as bright as the sunflowers. “Sure.”

He lets your hand go even though he doesn't want to, even though you could eat together. He imagines it; sitting in his car, Yoongi’s parked out front, you in his passenger seat having a few of those chocolates. But you have no reason to stay and keep him company through his lunch break.’

Hobi is too shy to ask.

Before you pass through the door you pause, looking at the suncatchers that hang by the windows again. Reaching out a finger to touch one so that rainbows swirl through the room. The sun's light misdirected to spill and swirl in a dizzying display of color. The door clangs closed with a faint jingle.

He sets his hand over the back of his hot neck. Heart thundering, something in his instincts relaxes by having you out the door and away from his other...competitors. They instantly descend on him, badgering him with countless questions.

“I didn’t know you could pull like that hyung," "How did you even meet?" does she have a sister?" "Does she have a favorite type of nesting supplies?”

Hobi shoots that last one a glare. "I think she's got everything she needs in that department." he says tightly.

He’d have thought your mating mark would be enough of a deterrent. The fact that it isn’t makes him even more annoyed if that's possible. They don’t get a single answer out of him- just the freezer door closed and locked in their faces. He sits there to eat his lunch, glaring at them through the foggy doors.

When he opens his lunchbox, he sees that you've shoved 7 chocolates into a space that should only logically fit 5. Rows of sliced meat and a dollop of sauce over rice in the shape of a heart. A sandwich just the way he likes it, cut-up fruit too, probably a whole pint of Strawberries cut into little hearts.

(The other alphas don't stand a chance.)

~-~

(Tae, Some time later)

Autumn brings with it lazy nights and the need for more blankets. You often find yourself curled up on the couch in Tae's room. Alternating between watching the autumn rain drip from the eves, going on tic-tock, napping, and watching Tae work at her desk. Sometimes on work nights, she's got her hair set into little pin curls, or a face mask on.

It's kind of silly that you can spend just hours watching her but you are that in love.

Her typing is gentle, a companion to the pitter-patter of the rain and the tv in the other room. Someone talking, someone showering, the faint thump thump thump of your heart, noodle meowing to be let in from outside, homey domestic and Awfully lonely.

It’s silly, you shouldn’t feel alone with Tae right there.

You stir sometimes, stretching your feet out and yawning. Cheek resting on the pillow. "I can shut the light if you want" Tae says, recognizing the feeling like she's being watched. She doesn’t turn because she knows it's you.

"No, I'm not tired" but the slow rising of your chest says something different. You've let the blanket slip off of you a little bit, folding your body onto her small couch fitting just barely. She rolls herself over to you to fix it and tuck it around your feet. Then goes back to writing.

"You've been typing one thing for a long time now”

Tae hums, agreeing. Pausing for a second and going back to delete one sentence and replacing it with another before her cursor moves on stepping in time with the clack of her fingers. She's gone with a shorter manicure this time to make typing easier, smooth little almonds that flash like fish scales. Pretty and pearlescent.

“You were writing the same thing yesterday and the day before that too. Is it a story?" you ask. Tae likes how you always ask that first, is it a story or a poem, by stanza or by prose. Which part of your soul are you working on today? is it more comfort or a bit of hurt?

Her fingers hesitate, "it is." She admits. “I’ve got like, maybe 30,000 words of it written already but yeah, it’s a story.”

“You don't write stories often."

she tips her head in agreement. "What could I add to the world you know? there are so many good books out there," she sighs heavily, "But-" she trails off, eyes full of faraway faces and a love that maybe feels a little bit like yours and Hobi’s. She always was better at catharizing her emotions about their relationships by comparing them to others. Namjoon and Jin are all Claire and Jamie. Yoongi and Hobi Westley and Buttercup.

But You and Hobi are something different. Maybe she took hobi's advice and found another outlet for her feelings about you two rather than get involved. then again, the main male character is actually a lot more like jungkook sometimes when he speaks.

Bits and pieces of Tae’s loves and muses are all over the story, but the main character? She’s all you.

"What's different about this one?" You ask, hair spilling over your shoulders in an uninterrupted tangle that has Tae itching for a brush. You'd tried her pin curls out a few nights ago but had complained about the pinching so Tae quiets the part of herself that wants to use you as her own mini dress-up doll.

"Usually my emotions are brief, but" she presses her palm to her chest, "I have all this pain here. All of this pain and all of these thoughts and I don't think I know what to do with it besides write it down." You pull yourself up and closer to her, phone slipping out of your lap and sliding onto the carpeted floor. But Tae’s smile is already comforting even if it is a little sad.

She wheels herself over again and presses her lips to yours, your needy fingers almost instantly find her waist, the way you grab at her when you want to cuddle. Tae knows your body language so well.

"It’s not something you can make better darling," she says, and she means it, the way she looks at you means she means it. "But I think- I think giving it to other people might make it better, a little."

You lean your cheek into her palm, sleepily sighing. "What’s it about?"

Tae launches into the beginning, and the rest is history. She talks about her own story the same way that she talks about the books she reads. Fast and excited, like it's right there in front of her eyes on a movie screen.

“It starts with a library- only it’s not like a normal library. This library is kind of magic-”

~-~

(Namjoon, 7 days after rut)

In the wake of Namjoon's rut, all of the alphas have been feeling their instincts a little more keenly; this has expressed itself in only one behavior one that you didn't think you'd see the return of after it had sort of calmed down at the beginning of your relationship.

You don’t know how to feel about the fresh return of the courting presents.

But with the nest upstairs, you suppose that you don't mind the veritable collection of new nesting pillows, blankets, and specially made Egyptian cotton sheets for your Alaskan king-sized mattress- courtesy of Jimin. In a variety of colors of course; black for his preference, and pink for Tae’s.

Namjoon doesn't like being one-upped by anyone. Although his gift takes several more days to arrive and set up. (Yoongi stayed up the night before with Namjoon to help set it up because Namjoon is notoriously bad about any sort of home improvement let alone when there's an Allen wrench and six pages of instructions involved)

You giggle as Namjoon's fingers tamp over your eyes. He almost steps on the back of your heels with how close you're walking. "Here, there's a wall" You reach out and help him lead you so that the surprise isn't spoiled. Bright shafts of light slip through his fingers.

"Joonie-"

"Here, step down- there you go pup. Here-"

Namjoon takes his hands from your eyes and resists the urge to bounce up and down, your wide blinks, your suddenly sweet scent all of it, soothing to the cloying discomfort of instincts not expressed in his chest. Lips parted into a cute little oh.

You're in the backroom, the last coat of paint was finished yesterday and the pack has gone to work putting it together with the new velvet green couch and many of Hobi's plants. But what you don't expect is the item just left of the door.

The nesting couch, or more correctly nesting pod has high walls that peak at the top somewhat like an onion. The interior of it is upholstered with smooth non-irritating fabric and a thick cushion at the base and up part of the walls. a soft little bowl almost like a human-sized dog bed (a pup bed).

A small dark soft space, perfect for nesting. With a little curtain that you can zip closed, that should enswathe you entirely in darkness. The interior of it is Piled high with a new duvet and more than a dozen new pillows (all freshly scented) like a bowl of colorful candies. Some of them are vaguely stuffed animal shaped and a few actually are stuffed animals.

You blink down at the croissant and the cake, the disembodied blueberry.

“Jungkook might have helped me pick them out, he went a little over the top.” Namjoon rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s rut or a” he coughs, “first knotting present, I guess. As a thank you and an I’m sorry for biting you present.” Namjoon shifts back and forth, feeling vaguely nauseous but in a love-sick sort of way. “Do you like it?”

Nesting nooks are expensive gifts, this one alone must have been several thousand dollars. Although Namjoon's anxiety ticks higher as you continue to not say anything. Staring at it and blinking like you can’t believe it’s there. “I thought you could maybe, use a bit of space because of the upstairs, I know you’re used to nesting on your own.” Yoongi had told him about your need to keep your downstairs nest still set up. You know the second the sentence slips past his lips that they've talked about it, that Namjoon’s worried.

It's nothing personal you just, you feel like you might need a little spot, like Tae does for her library room, a little spot that's just yours. A spot for you to be quiet

And Namjoon's just given you it.

Your mouth twists and Namjoon tilts your jaw up to his so that he can duck in close and nose along your hairline. "Hey I didn't mean-"

You take the nearest cushion and crush it to your chest, this one the shape of a graham cracker. "I love it." Your gaze darts away, heart in your throat. "Can I? Try it out?"

Namjoon steps aside hastily, watching as you ease inside it. Pulling yourself into the dark cavern. it’s soft and comfy. protected in a way that has you instantly feeling hazy. Quiet and mostly scentless, the noises from outside Dampened, the feeling of everything butter soft beneath your fingers.

It's so safe here.

You start to knead a pillow, softly, the way that noodle might. Flopping over onto your side. Back against the cushion wall. Rolling a little in it. And a slow purring slowly fills the room, soft and first, and then stronger. You rub your scent across the border, making it smell like yours.

Namjoon drops to his knees and watches you. when he sticks out his hand you nuzzle into it, cheeks pink, scent omegaspace sweet. you chirp happily and he smiles down at you.

“There you go pup.”

~-~

(Tae, sometime at night)

(Content warning)

Namjoon isn’t the only one who's gotten you courting gifts recently.

Tae presents yours to you with pink cheeks, the small rectangle pretty when you unwrap it, green warn fabric, and embroidery on the cover.

It’s a copy of Alice and Wonderland, delicately illustrated with watercolor splotches of characters on every other page. It smells like vanilla the way that Jimin smells like vanilla, the musk of it soft and smooth.

The next time you get small and pupish Tae reads to you, her soft voice lulling you into a softer, smaller headspace. So fuzzy that you can’t feel your toes, mind dumbly repeating ‘mommy, mommy mommy’ with little else on your mind.

Page after page of pictures that your wide eyes follow without so much as a word, small whines when Tae pauses to see if you’ve fallen asleep yet tell her everything she needs to know about if it had been a good decision or not. the right gift.

Tae is the only alpha in the pack that can give you this, who can trigger omegaspace in you with as little as a raised eyebrow.

She has a fantastic reading voice. She and makes the voices of the white rabbit and the mad hare just funny enough to have you huffing soft giggly purrs.

It's not the last book she gets you. Far from it, over the next few weeks, you quickly fall into a routine: after dinner, she’ll find you in the nesting nook, in your room, or in the bathroom washing up. And she’ll pull you in the direction of the library room and produce another wrapped volume. Some of them illustrated and some not.

You’ll curl up together on the couch, one ear pressed to her heartbeat, another that inches to hear her words and a soft croons. Her hair tickling your forehead where it lingers, just around her shoulders. Grown out now and faster since she started to use a fancy hair serum.

There are other, slightly more scandalous times, when you squirm at certain parts, unable to find a properly soothed position. When you turn to nuzzle into her shoulder. Nosing along her collarbones and searching for something that makes Tae’s chest tight in all the best ways. Bright eyes glassy, too shy to ask for what you wanted.

What you needed.

The first time you’d face planted into her chest into her barely there but steadily growing tits. She’d laughed, the skin there new feeling and vaguely sensitive. Little white stretch marks shine like a silver lining over the hem of her lace top.

“You looking for something pup?” she’d teased, she wasn’t necessarily surprised after all, you hadn’t been looking at the book for a few minutes, watching her soft inhale and exhale. The faint imprint of her nipples under the shirt.

“Can- can I” you’d stuttered, words too hard for you to string together, looking down at Tae’s chest, fingers bunching up the fabric of her dove-colored night dress.

Being in omegaspace is easier than being totally up these days. Tae knows you need this, without saying why, something is going on in your head that seems too big for it, something that makes you listless and quiet when no one’s around. There’s a reason- there has to be.

her hand cups your cheek and directs your gaze to her face and not her chest, and you blush, having been caught looking. “Good pups use their words, honey, even if they’re feeling small and needy.”

You struggle when you pull back, sorting through your pupils brain is a difficult task when preoccupied with Tae, mommy, want, pretty, mommy alpha smells so nice, looks so safe.

“Can I- can I put my mouth on Mommy?” heat laces down her chest, a fire like none other that has her body growing warm everywhere you touch, the smooth line of your inner thigh pressed to hers, your stomach as you inhale to whine. You squirm away from the embarrassment of asking for something so taboo.

Her hand grips your waist, and you know you aren’t going anywhere.

“Take what you need pup.”

Her spaghetti straps are down around her shoulders before you can blink, dress rucked down to her rib cage. Her chest has swelled so prettily from the hormones her nipples little puffy peaks. She’s maybe a b cup at best but your mouth waters, a whine slipping from your lips without you trying to summon it.

Tae guides you to them with her hand threaded through the hair on the back of your head. Fingers rubbing soothingly against your scalp and oh

With Tae so close, you can smell all of her. It’s so natural when your mouth guides into a suck, Hot and gentle where she’s sensitive. Your nose nudges against her skin taking deep lungfuls of her scent, greedy in the way that you curl around her body. Your brain is truly quiet for the first time in months. Resting your head in the crook of her elbow.

Tae sighs and stretches out while you settle. It’s not exactly not sexual but intimate, the attention at her chest isn’t something that makes arousal stir in her stomach, not when it's like this. Sucking softly, never too hard, with the same pressure that you might mouth at a soft blackberry, lips teasing but only just teasing.

She picks back up the book and keeps reading, ignoring the way her breath hitches with every harder suck.

There is something about tucking your face close, hands tangling in her dress, that feels like the most natural expression of your dynamic. The way she pets over your shoulders and reads to you while you set down your heavy worries. Clinging to her until your fingers go slack and your sucking slows. Lips parting to let out soft sleepy breaths across her sensitive skin and Tae knows you’ve fallen asleep.

Tae is the only alpha who can give you this.

After the first time, all bets are off.

Tae often finds you tugging at her top at dinner time, fingers curious and needy on her ribcage, unwilling to touch where you need to under the gaze of so many other.

Bending under the need, the haze of omegaspace tugging at you, begging for the couch and her in the green room. It’s especially bad if she wears anything low-cut. You’re squirmy in her lap during movie nights, a little breathless any time she hugs you (she might be a little mean and tug you up so that you're face to face with the object of your desire)

You're more than a little nervous around the rest of the pack.

But she agrees this is a secret. A habit that should be just yours. Tae never would have said there would be anything too intimate to share with them after coming out but maybe this is.

One time and one time only does Jimin accidentally walk in on you,

Namjoon is close behind, she isn’t sure what their reasons are. Luckily your head is blocked by a blanket and Tae only has to hiss a “get out” for them to turn tail and run. Thankfully, they hadn’t prodded that much about it later.

It’s not always so innocent, sometimes Tae’s thigh presses up between your own guiding you into a slow grind or her fingers wander, gently parting your thighs and pressing up and under your sleep shorts. fingers curiously exoloring between your thighs insistent to taste your pleasure in the air and hear your needy moans.

But every time you stop sucking, she stops touching. leaves her fingers just there tugging on your clit or just around them. Caught between a rock and a hard place, as you keep going, looking up at her, hips jerking against her fingers. Your sucking near frantic as you cum and Tae's wicked smile and mean laugh above you as you gush and drip around her fingers. rubbing gently over your clit at the same rhythm which you suck.

Worse are the times that she says, “Mommy’s turn” with a smile on her face. Switching your positions entirely. Holding your wrists so that you can’t try and cover yourself as she licks and sucks with abandon. Rubbing your frustrated tears away with her thumbs as she sucks at your nipples until they’re bitten and sensitive. So sensitive that you feel them every time they rub against your shirt, constantly distracting you and reminding you of her touch.

There is something about you needy and squirmy in omegaspace, dripping messy all over her nightdress, upset and tearful at being teased for so long that makes Tae’s alpha purr, makes her almost addicted. Those moments usually end with her cumming over your tummy and you grinding one out against her face or her thigh and once, her tits.

She’s cum on yours before, had you hold up her skirt like a good girl, standing there with your nipples wet from her mouth to let her jack off all over you. listening to you babble about how pretty her cock looks, how beautiful she is, it never takes her long.

The walk of shame to the bathroom had drawn the stares of quite a few of your packmates, Jimin had nearly walked into a wall as Tae led you upstairs for a shower.

It's intoxicating being needed, being the bearer of your needy whines and these delicate moments. When one nipple gets too sensitive and Tae transfers you to another, cheeks pink, lips wet and kissable, tasting like Tae's skin when she leans down. fussy, unwilling to be parted from her for even a second.

Tae looks and feels her most beautiful with her chest sucked pink, nipples glossy from your mouth when you inevitably fall asleep like that. And Tae has to pull up her dress and call for one of the alphas to help carry you to the nest like you weren't just doing something so salacious

When you’re alone, and your fingers instantly gravitate towards the buttons on her blouse, needy whines mean only one thing as you struggle to unfasten the buttons. Fingers clumsy from your wanting.

"My sweet little pup, so cute and needy for mommy that you can't even wait for a second, what am I going to do with you?"

~-~

(Hobi, the same day as before)

Not many people use the beach this late in the season. The businesses on the boardwalk are half-boarded up now that the tourist rush is over and half of the lights are empty and vacant of their usual neon splendor.

But maybe if Yoongi were here, he’d say that this is the way that you and Hobi flirt. With jabs back and forth like crashing waves. Jests of Are you tired yet? and not at all as you run and giggle, splashing through the dark waves. Happy and zoomy in the way that dogs get when you give them wide open spaces to run. Until the late hour drags your bones down and exhaustion makes you giggly and innocent. The way you and Hobi maybe never get to be when you’re not alone with each other.

But you can trust him, with your sensitive parts and your darkness too.

The beach is quiet at night, the hem of your pajama pants soaked 3 inches up from the cold water. Your shoes sit discarded in the sand and the cold salt air tickles your forehead and your bare toes. A pair of headphones between the two of you tangle in the sand like a string of fate. You bob your head to Hobi’s most recent favorite song and shiver.

Hobi notices and starts to shuck off his jacket, thick sweatshirt balmy underneath. You make a noise in protest but he doesn’t listen. His next words a mess in the middle of so much base, “I’ve got more meat on my bones than you do.”

You take his headphone out of your ear. “You sure?”

“Yeah,”

You ease into the warmth like it’s what you’ve been waiting for, and Hobi pulls himself closer to you to block the wind. You know you'll smell like him tomorrow morning, that the others will hover and breathe deep, appreciating your combined scents.

The moon is bright tonight, casting everything in shimmery pools of silver. You can see him in near-perfect blue-grey detail. It’s what drew you out tonight, the promise of an extra high tide and the glittering splendor of the ocean on a full moon. The drag of waves has the same tempo as Hobi’s soul, the tide higher than usual.

You fold the sleeves over your hands in the semi-darkness and it strikes him as oddly fragile, the way you curl in on yourself. One second happy and zoomy, and the next almost conservative. Like you think you won’t have enough joy for later. Your happiness reseeding like a tide.

Hobi turns his knees to the side. "You've been acting different since the rut." Was it me? Was I the one who made you look a little smaller, a little sadder than you were yesterday? You deflate at his words and Hobi struggles. “Not weird! It’s not bad I’m just-” worried- so fucking worried.

“Was it the alphas today?” he trails off, unsure of what he's asking.

You turn towards him, shoulders resting against the sand. All rocks made small, and time and energy that's made boulders movable. The sand curves to the shape of your body. Your cradle and your grave.

"No- your coworkers were fine just-" You shrivel your nose at the stars, maybe fate is taking notes. "Alphas, you know?"

"Hey, I’m an alpha too." He pushes at your shoulder playfully, trying to make the mood lighter so that you’re more likely to tell him what's really wrong. There’s sand in your hair when you turn away hiding your small smile like the sliver of a crescent moon. He feels like he should have anticipated that and brought a blanket or at least a towel for you to lie on, if not to make you warmer than to at least make sure you didn’t get sand in your hair.

"Yeah, but you're one of the good ones."

He settles back against the sand, faintly warm from the sunshine still. At odds with the cold wind that whips at the two of you. “I’m okay, you don’t have to worry about me, I’m just-“ your face twists with melancholy. “Tired.”

Tired. Hobi had found you dozing in the nesting nook tonight. Why had you slept there and not upstairs? You could have waited for him in either place- so why did you choose the one that made you alone? Why deny yourself the comfort at your fingertips?

Hobi swallows, “do you want to head back?”

Your eyelashes flutter whisper soft against your cheek, your voice thick like you might be about to cry. But you can tell Hobi these things, the restless half-exhaustion of not knowing when it will get easier, the exhaustion of having to try so hard for so long and still feel like you haven't gotten anywhere.

“I don’t think it’s the kind of tired that sleep can fix Hobi.”

Hobi blinks back the tightening in his chest like someone has stretched a rubber band around his lungs, pulling himself up so that you’ve got to look at him and see the sincerity in his face.

"You don't have to be okay you know. You don't have to, it would be okay if you weren't. We'd make it okay."

You swallow and it takes you a long time to answer, long enough that Hobi gets a little worried. You pick up the sand and let it fall through your hand. Dry, movable, changing. When the words come, they’re like a flood.

"It didn't fix me.”

You look like you don’t want to admit it, but the truth is so hard to contend with sometimes when expectations are proven false.

“The rut- being with Namjoon- Proving I could handle it. It didn't fix what was broken with me. I think I wanted it to like- make me feel whole, make me feel normal. It's what an omega in my position should be doing. Helping their alpha. Being good.”

Your breath hitches, and you know that there are so many many ways to be good. Being good for Geumjae meant starving yourself and staying quiet. You thought that maybe being good for Namjoon would be easier, that taking care of yourself would become easy because he wanted that for you.

But maybe it's not the alphas you're with that are the problem.

You liked the rut, you would swear on your mating mark that nothing happened during it that you didn't consent to and fully anticipate. So why do you still feel so fragile? Like you should be apologetic for it, like somehow- you didn't live up to their expectations.

He rolls back onto his ass letting you sit away from him because distance feels like what you might need.

"Good, I didn't want you to choose that."

As much as Hobi and the others are loathed to admit it, regardless of the bite mark now yellowing against your thigh, you being there actually did help during Namjoon's rut. Usually, at least one of them is left looking gaunt and in need of a few days’ rest. Jungkook didn’t even have a seizure this time. And to everyone's surprise, the pack had gone mostly back to normal sort of instantly.

Everyone had been able to walk just fine the following evening, they'd take it slow, but maybe they hadn't needed to. Hobi would have never called them unbalanced before but it's clear now how much their pack benefits from having a third omega.

But none of that would matter if you decided that you'd taken that step too quickly.

Your hand tangles with his, tangles with the sand. His fingers are strong and birdlike in yours, warm and rough.

He waits for a few long breaths "Was it bad that I said that?" Double checking, because you're both allowed to double-check when you need to. Both you and Hobi struggle to trust your internal narrative because you know how easy it is to twist it.

You take turns like this often, being vulnerable, being the one to break apart. Your laugh is something jagged, tearing up bits of yourself that you don’t want to keep, don’t want to hold onto, you swear.

How is it so easy to be hurt and yet so difficult to let the things that hurt you go?

"Yes," your laugh is sadder than he likes, you tuck your face back into the crook of his shoulder. “No. It’s fair. I think I’m just overwhelmed a little, I just wish I knew how to hope like you do. Every time I’m sad it feels like it’s like it’s the saddest I’ve ever been. Like there’s no coming back from it. It's exhausting always trying to be hopeful. How do you do it?"

Hobi likes thinking about it like that; hoping as a learned skill and not as an affliction. He gets cynical every time he gets sad and You know this best. He wonders when exactly you became the person he goes to with all of his contradictions. He doesn't know when he became this person for you either but he likes it.

He likes it.

He pulls himself a little bit closer to you. Nudging your shoulder with his and leaning. Rubbing quick up and down your calves to warm you up. The flannel of your pajama bottoms are rough against his fingers, he thinks they might be Yoongi's.

"I don't know, guess just I have to hope the healing adds up one day. When I'm not sad I don't know what else to do but hope."

You sit like that in silence for a good long while, the headphones buzzing on the sand between the two of you, quietly watching the ocean.

“I think you might be my best friend.” You admit quietly. Hobi’s smile makes the moon shine just a little brighter.

“I think you might be my best friend too.”

You sit like that, your body pressed up against his for a long time watching the ocean. Long enough that Hobi thinks you both might turn into statues, turned to marble pearly ness underneath the moons light, like it's trying to keep you here in this moment for as long as possible.

Hobi thinks you might have fallen asleep but then You stiffen and freeze. It's not him you're looking at when he turns. Your eyes have lost their glassiness, squinting into the ocean at something in the distance. Bobbing too close to be a buoy and too hard-shaped to be a patch of seaweed.

"Hobi, I think there's something out there in the water."

~-~

Please Like, Comment, and Reblog <3 every word helps motivate me to write the next chapter!

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Come tell me what you liked about this chapter!

~-~

Extra’s: Tae’s angel halloween dress + the nesting nook

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myhornysaga · 14 days

Note

You mentioned cheating as one of the tags in your fics with Graves, would Graves cheat on his wife? Let’s say if he were to be deployed for awhile and a really sexy woman were to throw herself onto him, what do you think he’d do?

𝐌𝐲 𝐖𝐚𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

Tags: SMUT, MDNI, cheating, established relationship, angst, graves x lawyer wife reader

Part 3

As much as i WANT to believe he's faithful to his wife y/n, he is definitely NOT faithful.

What people don't understand is normally and in real life, the High Stress Environment/Special operators have a really high sex drive. No im not making shit up. I have done research.

Literally a monkey brain of fight, get job done, fuck, sleep and repeat. Also they have tendancy to be addicted to alcohol.

So my hc...

He would never in his wildest dreams would ever imagine himself being intimately physical with anyone but you.

Graves has only one heart and he knows you are the owner.

The only person who sees him in his most vulnerable state when he's not out there leading dangerous mission dodging bullets, it is you.

You are the warmth, the sunshine that melts down his cold heart.

You do so much for him. You quit your outstanding career as a Lawyer just so you could have his children and raise them. You did that, for him.

The fact that you personally want to lead his PMC's Legal team and be the Director of the Comapny despite him telling you repeatedly that putting your name out there with the Shadow Company would put a risk to your life and reputation.... just so you can make sure that the company has a figurehead, other than your husband, to be spat at by the public.

You just wanted to divert attention from your husband and allow him to work freely and do the manual work while you can handle all the managerial work. You knew he wouldn't be able to do both himself.

Graves also knows he would never be able to have all the brilliant minds at one place in his Legal team to represent The Shadow Company if it wasn't for you and your connections with the top and the best in the industry.

Graves recognizes that, your selflessness for him. And that is why he loves you. Heck! The word love is an understatement to describe his... his feelings... feelings that are very primal.

He just wants to be with you, hold you, protect you, take care you.

And thus, even if he... meh... maybe slips a little, maybe seek company for a night or so, that would never count to anything because he is thinking about.

The only reason he would even look for company is because you are not with him on those lonely nights to make love with him and let him put out all his frustration and stress in you.

Due to his contracts, he has to travel a lot all around the globe and has to command his team for months on end.

All that ground zero action takes a toll on him. On his libido.

He just wants to let IT out. So he sometimes himself engages on the battlefield to get that thrill, the boost of testosterone and adrenaline, or at times usually in non conflict areas hires an escort to his hotel room.

Usually a young woman in her early 20s, who surprisngly has few prominent features that resembles yours like the same hair color as you or your eye color, your body shape and so on. Hmmm I wonder why...

Graves becomes almost a totally different man with her.

He welcomes her to his suite like a gentleman of course. Tries to make her comfortable with drinks and food. Oh that smooth southern style and hospitality never fails to win hearts.

After the formalities, it doesn't takes him long to reveal his true self, a self he hasn't even shown you. His darker side...

He tears apart the slutty red dress off of the girl's body and throws her on his large king sized bed.

Grabs fistful of the poor girl's hair and forces her to suck on his cock till he comes inside her mouth.

He fucks the girl with an animalistic rage. Thrusting his cock inside her almost balls deep mumbling all sorts of profanities, his eyes closed shut in between to see a mental picture of you, how you are spread across the marital bed back home.

He has been rough with you yes, but the sheer intensity of how rough he is with the escorts is brutal. They won't be walking for days.

He pulls her hair, slaps her, chokes her.... things he has never done with you.

He prefers doing them from behind that way he cannot see their faces. All he thinks of is you, his lovely wife.

Graves maybe sleeping with women other than you but he always makes sure to have his boundaries set.

He never kisses his whores, he just.... cannot (?) He tried once, but he just felt so sour after that. Its as if he is... cheating on you...? Its uncomfortable for him to kiss anyone other than you.

After he's done for the night and his date for the night is asleep, he gets up and goes into the bathroom.

He pulls out his gold wedding band from the tiny box he keeps it in. Staring at it for a moment then he gets the realization of his actions.

He slept with someone who isn't you. It breaks his hearts.

He always avoids wearing his wedding band when he's working and puts it back on when he is back home with you in his big arms.

He always leaves a tip for the women before leaving.

After completing his rigorous contracts, he is home all finally and all Graves does is....

Kiss you, make love to you, cum inside you, mark you, subconsciously convincing himself that you are his and his only.

He keeps mumbling how much he loves you and how much you mean to him.

You never understand where he's coming from but you assume he must've seen a lot deaths on battlefield thus this endless confession of his love to you.

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

Series masterlist , M.list

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dark-frosted-heart · 1 month

Text

Roger Barel Main Route - Both Ends Cleared Special Story

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

This is in his POV

nsfw, minors dni

Today, I’ll tell you a story about me, a man named Roger Barel.

Someone, whose face I don’t remember anymore, once asked me something.

“Why do you live so recklessly?”

I absolutely don’t like wasting anything or being idle.

“Finding a way to get rid of curses” is a huge research project, and time keeps ticking away.

Even with a shortened lifespan, I wanna dig even deeper with my research.

Going on missions for Crown’s like gathering information, and my trivial everyday interactions, research.

With my boxing hobby to train my body and long hours of research, the only rest I get’s when I sleep or drink.

If my brain could stay in a fresh state, then I’d do research forever.

—At least, that’s what I thought. But apparently I’ve been changing lately.

Only “her” footsteps were distinct to my ears.

When the basement opened, I saw her face before I heard her voice.

Kate: Roger! I’ve sorted all your data on the Cursed by year!

Roger: Done already? That’s my dog-assistant-partner for you.

Kate: …What about lover.

Roger: Haha, I left it out on purpose. Thanks Kate, you’ve been a big help.

With the way Kate was beaming, if she were a dog, her tail would be wagging.

(You’re as cute as ever)

Kate: So…Do you remember our “promise”?

Roger: Yeah, “after finishing a task I assigned you, I’ll grant one request.” What did you want so badly?

Kate: Um, there’s a place I want to go—

Kate dragged me to—

(...The hell?)

—A group of people lying down on the grass.

They weren’t just lying down, they were all spacing out, as if their souls were sucked out.

Kate: It’s an “do nothing party” where busy people gather for a short break.

Roger: Do nothing?

Kate: Yes, Ellis told me it’s been secretly been in fashion in London.

Roger: Where does that guy even learn about this kind of stuff?

Kate: Hehe. Roger, you lie down too. Come on!

Kate spread out a large blanket she brought and lay down.

(...Just doing nothing, huh? If Kate wants to, then I’ll go along with it)

I lay down next to her…

A blue sky filled my vision.

(...)

(...Has the sky always been this blue?)

(And I can hear the wind)

Despite the sky being around forever and my abnormal hearing, it felt as if I was experiencing these things for the first time.

Kate: …I’m sorry.

Roger: …What for?

Kate: I know you hate being idle and that you’d rather be spending your free time doing research. But we still have to live… The fight against despair never ends. Which is why if you keep running at full speed, you’ll run out of breath.

Roger: …

Kate: Sometimes you just need to pause, breathe, take a break.

Kate glanced at me and smiled.

Kate: Let’s run together again.

(So that’s it. That’s what Kate wanted to tell me.)

She said it casually, but the kindness in those words made it sink in.

It’s like I realized I hadn’t noticed the blue sky or sound of wind in a while.

(...Ah, I see. I’ve been acting reckless ‘cause I might’ve been “scared”)

For some time, I’ve felt like if I didn’t find a way to get rid of curses, then there was no reason for me being born.

I definitely felt that if I didn’t pursue my ambitions, I’d be betraying the people important to me.

So I continue to egoistically devote all my time into pursuing my ambitions.

(But humans aren’t kept alive only because they have meaning)

Every human’s existence was equally meaningful.

Though I came to realize that I didn’t apply this to myself.

(Having free will and fulfilling your ambitions makes you a villain)

(So I’ve been living life by getting rid of all the wasted needed to feel alive)

I don’t know if Kate did it on purpose, but she taught me some important things. To pay her back for these important lessons—

(Let’s enjoy this lovely idleness to the fullest)

Roger: Kate, let’s go.

Kate: Huh? Are we going back to work?

Roger: Nope. Sitting idle’s fine , but I wanted to spoil my cute lover. We can go shopping, eat, or go on a sightseeing cruise. What do you wanna do?

There were sparkles in Kate’s widened eyes.

Kate: All of the above!

Roger: Pfft, hahaha! Alright, we’ll do all of it. Come on, let’s go. Take my hand.

Kate: Roger, your shooting skills were amazing! Hehe, you shot down all the targets and the carny was at a loss.

Roger: You taking one prize and giving the rest back to the carny was admirable.

Kate: …There you go treating me like a child again.

Kate was in high spirits after playing all those games and held a large corgi plushie, the top prize from the shooting gallery, in her arms.

Roger: The stuffed toy’s nice and all, but I think it’s about time you give me a hug too.

Kate’s face fell, making her look like a scolded puppy.

Kate: …Don’t want to.

Roger: What, you going through a rebellious phase?

Kate: Because! Even though I took up a lot of your time today…I want to take more. If I hug you, I don’t think I’ll ever let you go…

(...*sigh* Why’s her reason so damn cute)

She wasn’t even trying to flirt with me, but that unconscious spoiled act aroused an animalistic desire.

Not one to hide my desires well, I sat on the bed and laid my sweet trap.

Roger: You’re a villain’s lover, remember? If you wanna take it, then take it—come here, Kate.

Kate: …Are you sure I can take up more of your time?

Roger: How insensitive. And if I say “I want you to”?

Kate: ~~...!

Kate squealed and threw herself onto the bed.

Roger: Heh, as usual there’s nothing sexy about the way you try to seduce me.

Kate: Sorry, your glasses—

Roger: Don’t need to put them back on—I’m gonna do this anyway.

Kate: Mnn, nnn…

I kissed Kate deeply and she sweetly sighed out my name in between breaths.

Kate: Roger…

(Early I said your seduction wasn’t sexy)

(...But when you’re like this, it’s enough to turn me on)

As we kissed, I stripped and caressed her, making her heat up and easily melt under my touch.

The more often we did this, the more Kate’s body became receptive to pleasure, which was also cute.

Watching Kate moan on top of me ignited a wicked desire.

Roger: Oh right, how about I teach you something we haven’t done before?

I pulled my shirt out, undid the front of my pants, took my cock out, and stroked it.*

I rested against Kate’s dripping wet entrance.

Roger: Tonight, you’re gonna put “this” in by yourself.

Kate: I don’t think…

Roger: Then I guess we won’t do it then. I’ll just have to take care of myself.

Kate looked like she was fighting against her shyness as she put her hand on me…

Kate: …Please don’t laugh if I’m not good at this.

After positioning herself, she slowly sank down onto it.

Kate: Pfff…

(...I told her to do it herself, but now I’m feeling impatient)

Roger: Come on, just a little more. Keep lowering your hips.

Kate: I don’t think I can…Roger.

Roger: Heh, alright. I’ll help you.

I might’ve sounded like a sensible adult…but I was already at my limit.

Her walls fluttered around me when I grabbed her hips and lowered her down.

Kate: …Haaa…Nnngh

Roger: Come on, don’t cum without saying anything.

Kate: But…

Roger: You might feel light-headed after just cumming, but…there’s more pleasure to come.

I took a nipple in my mouth and rolled it around with my tongue while still holding onto her hips, slowly thrusting in and out of her.

Kate: Ahh…Roger.

(Ahhh, I can only think about her right now)

(No, not just now)

(Come to think of it, I never thought that she wasted my time)

~~ Flashback ~~

Kate: Strong…I want to be strong. Because I…don’t want to hate myself. Besides…life’s too long to live in despair.

Roger: …O_O Pfft, hahahahaha!

(I thought it was amusing how she was sobbing when she felt down, but didn’t despair)

Kate: Next time you do something perverted, I’m breaking our friendship!

Roger: Pfft, haha! Are you a kid or something? Dummy.

(We had a lot of pointless, childish arguments)

Kate: …Huhu…

Roger: Ah…you’re trying to hold your tears back.

Kate: B-because…You’ve acknowledged me as your partner…I’ll ruin it if I cry.

Roger: Pfft…

Kate: Besides, I know my crying face makes you happy.

Roger: Pfft, ahahahaha! You…You’re really… You’re so damn cute!

Kate: W-waaahhh~ Roger you bully!

(I bullied Kate so many times just to see her cute reactions)

Kate: Pull yourself together, Roger Barel! You’re the strongest egoist out there! This despair’s nothing. Just give it the middle finger and laugh it off like you always do!

Roger: …O_O

~~ End flashback ~~

(And when I didn’t believe in love, she proved to me that it existed)

(Kate, I don’t think any of the time I spent with you was a waste)

(To me, the time I spent with you’s a lovely idleness)

It’s thanks to this idleness that I was still able to escape despair and continue pursuing my ambitions.

Kate and I lost ourselves to passion and pleasure, savoring this lovely idleness.

Kate: …Roger, love you, I love you.

I stroked Kate’s hair as she lost herself to this heat and pulled her into my arms.

Roger: …I know. It’s an emotion you taught me.

A few days later, I heard Kate’s footsteps as she ran down the stairs to the basement.

Kate: Roger.

Roger: Yeah? What’s up, Kate?

Kate: Ah, you’re working right now, aren’t you?

I heard the sound of paper crinkling behind her back.

(Ellis did mention something about the circus being in town)

I guess Kate was holding the flyer behind her back.

Roger: Let me guess what you’re hiding behind your back. A circus flyer?

Kate: How did you know?!

Roger: Who knows. Gimme another half hour and then we can go.

I couldn’t help but smile at how adorable Kate looked as she blinked at me.

Roger: Research is important to me and I still don’t like anything wasteful. I’m sure there’ll be more times in the future when I get so absorbed with research that I neglect everything else. I’m not exactly the most considerate.

Kate: Hehe, I know that a little too well.

We looked at each other and exchanged conspiratory smiles.

Roger: —However, Kate, I can change. I’ll try to change for you, so— Let’s be together forever.

(I want to love you until the moment I take my last breath)

(Even if I spend my whole life searching, I’ll never find another woman like you)

Kate: …What do I do.

Roger: Hm?

Kate: I love you so, so much. You’re glittering.

Roger: Pfft, hahahaha. You’ve said something like that before.

~~ Flashback ~~

Kate: The person I like is different from everyone else. They’re especially glittering.

~~ End flashback ~~

That’s what Kate told me when I didn’t know what love was.

(Back then, I thought it was completely unscientific and impossible)

When Kate blushed and smiled at me, she also seemed to glitter for a moment.

Like gold dust glittering in the dark.

I wanted to touch the light, so I pulled Kate into my arms.

Kate: …Roger, what about your research?

Roger: …Just let me hug you for 3 minutes. Then I’ll continue my research.

Kate: …I’d like to extend it to 4 minutes.

Roger: How about 5 minutes then.

(Ah, what the heck. It’s a complete waste)

(But I can’t live without moments with her like these anymore)

(This lovely idleness is necessary to live)

Roger: Kate, I love you so much.**

*I’m not using their “mass” euphemism anymore. Time to free the cock. Especially since this is Roger’s POV

**Whenever “I love you” was used, it’s been 大好き (daisuki). But here, Roger said 愛してる (aishiteru). Unfortunately, English doesn’t have as many ways to say “I love you” with different meanings and feelings so…”I love you so much” it is.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger #ikevil roger route

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