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hellodarling1357 · 1 month

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Tiny Toes: Part 7 - Cassian x Reader

Hello hello hello!! It's only been...five months... (sorry) but I am back and have some goodies lined up for you all.

To get us started, here's the next, long-awaited part of Tiny Toes - I did see everyone's messages and they all meant so, so much. You have no idea! So thank you for all your kind words and encouragement!

I've schooched away from the timeline a bit with this one and jumped ahead a little, I might be bouncing back and forth while I get back into the rhythm of things but everything will line up in the end.

Please let me know your thoughts, seeing all of your comments and messages truly make my day and inspire me to keep writing!

Enjoy 🥰

Word Count: 7k (oohh it's a long one!!)

You can read the previous part here

Recent news of disturbances throughout the Continent had sent the High Lords into a state of panicked caution – memories of Hybern and Amarantha still raw in the aftermath of the war. As a result, Rhysand and the rest of his inner circle had been staying in the Dawn Court at Thesan’s palace, alongside the other High Lords and their courts, as they debated what to do next and planned how best to stay on top of the situation to prevent further conflict from crossing into Prythian’s shores.

Unfortunately for both you and Ottie, this meant Cassian’s absence was now pushing into its fifth week. Selfishly, you wanted him home with you; had you had a say, you would have never wanted him to leave in the first place. Cassian had also been reluctant to go, memories of the teary farewell still made your heart throb, however, he would never be able to live with the guilt of abandoning his duties and responsibilities to both his High Lord and Court. Even though you knew it was for the best, that didn’t stop the longing ache that came from missing him so desperately. You hadn’t realised it was even possible to miss someone this much, yet this had been the longest the two of you had been apart since falling into each other’s lives, the longest Cassian had ever spent away from Ottie, and you found everything slightly off kilter and as though it was all at a standstill without him by your side.

In Cassian’s absence, Ottie had very quickly wormed her way into his side of the bed. Usually, the two of you discouraged her from doing so, cherishing the limited time you had to simply be together at the end of the day without the interruption of a small, yet demanding, child, as well as Cassian’s taxing duties as General and your own work. However, waking up that first morning without Cassian in cold, unrumpled sheets had you quickly agreeing when Ottie had asked if she could have a sleep over with you.

The goodbyes had been hard. You had all decided to make the most of the day that Cassian was set to leave as the inner circle weren't required to get to the Dawn Court until later that night. The three of you had woken up early to make pancakes and Cassian’s special hot chocolate before heading out into Velaris to walk along the Sidra and grabbing lunch at your favourite little café that overlooked the shimmering water.

Upon returning home, Ottie had announced that she needed exactly 23 minutes to prepare as she ushered you and Cassian into the kitchen, closing the doors firmly behind her. Neither of you said much in those 23 minutes, choosing instead to bask in the silence, only interrupted by a few bumps and Ottie’s hurried “everything’s fine”, and being in one another’s company. Cassian had leant against the kitchen counter, pulling you snuggly into his arms and enveloping the two of you even closer together as his wings draped around you. In return, you had wrapped your arms tightly around his waist, burying your face into his chest as he pressed kisses to the top of your head.

“I’m going to miss you,” your voice came out muffled as you pressed tighter against him, willing away the tears that had started to trek down your cheeks.

“I’d hope so.”

You looked up, ready to chastise him for not returning the sentiment but instead found yourself crumbling even further at the emotion you found on his face. There was too much happening for words, the unknown of when he would be home as well as the unknown of what may lay ahead if what was happening on the Continent turned into a bigger threat. So instead, you lifted your hands and gently wiped away his tears, heart fluttering as Cassian turned to press a chaste kiss to your palm that rested against his cheek, his eyes refusing to leave yours as he let out a shaky breath. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you leant up on your toes, relishing in the feel of his arms tugging you even closer against him as he spun the two of you around and lifted you up onto the counter, your legs habitually wrapping around him as you pulled him closer so as to capture his lips with your own.

“Okay! I’m ready. You can come out now,”

Cassian made a disappointed noise at Ottie’s interruption, slumping against and leaning his forehead against your shoulder in defeat.

“Mum! Dad!”

Ottie’s singsong voice was laced with a threatening degree of impatience, making Cassian huff a sigh and quietly comment, “she’s too bossy for her own good.”

You laughed as you reached up to kiss him again before he helped you off the counter, one hand lingering between your shoulder blades as he led you into the living room, or what had once been the living room. In its place, a giant blanket fort had taken over the space with Ottie poking her head out of the opening, her face breaking into a wide grin as she ushered you both inside.

“Where did all these blankets and pillows even come from?” You asked, noting that most of them you had never seen before. Cassian just shrugged in response, eyes narrowing in on what lay in the centre of the rug.

“I’m not even going to ask where you got these, Otts.” Cassian promptly ignored the guilty look that graced Ottie’s face as he picked up one of the choc-chip cookies before making himself comfortable and pulling you down to sit snug against him. You smiled to yourself, realising the display of treats were more than likely from Elain and making note to yourself to ask your friend when she had dropped them off to figure out exactly how long Ottie had been storing them for.

“So, what’s the plan?” Cassian asked Ottie as he held out his half-eaten cookie for you to share. Ottie simply pointed to the large pile of games with a wicked grin on her face that had you both rolling your eyes, realising she expected you to play every single one.

*****

“You know,” Ottie started, as she slumped against Cassian’s chest from where she sat in his lap. “It would be a lot easier to play if there were more of us.”

“Hmm? How do you mean?” You absentmindedly asked, placing down your cards and smugly grinning across at Cassian and Ottie as you scored an extra 20 points, earning a groan in response.

“Well, just that if there were more of us, we wouldn’t always need to play two-against-one, or one-against-one-against-one.”

She had a point in that, the three of you had already circled through ‘boys against girls’, ‘wings against no wings’, ‘adults against kids’ multiple times throughout the afternoon.

“Maybe next time we have a games afternoon we can invite the others around?” you suggested, watching as Ottie placed down the cards Cassian silently handed her, completely missing the scrunched expression of frustration on Ottie’s face and the way Cassian had tensed up and remained silent throughout the whole conversation.

“Or,” Ottie stretched the word out causing you to look up in curiosity as you tried to catch Cassian’s eye who busily looked through his remaining cards in an attempt to avoid your gaze, “you could just have a baby.”

Cassian let out a sigh and it was now your turn to freeze in place as the words lingered in the space between. Sure, you had spoken about having kids together and you definitely wanted them with Cassian, but you didn’t feel ready yet. Joining their family had already been such a detour from the life you had imagined yourself living at this point in time, and while you wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, you still wanted the time to enjoy your life as it currently was.

You knew Cassian wanted another child and that he would jump at the chance as soon as you agreed, yet, despite feeling guilty as you noted his disappointment when you first told him not yet, the sense of relief that had washed over you when he quickly changed the conversation was telling enough in itself to prove that you weren’t ready yet.

Tuning back into the conversation as Ottie listed all the reasons why she thought she should have a baby brother or sister, your eyes landed on Cassian, finding him already looking back at you with a tentative expression. He didn’t seem shocked or caught off guard so Ottie must have already brought this up with him.

You opened your mouth, to say what you weren’t quite sure, but Cassian saved you from having to fumble for words as he abruptly clapped his hands together, “how about we start on dinner, that way, Ottie, you can have your surprise treat before bedtime.” At the mention of the words surprise and treat, all thoughts of a sibling appeared to immediately vanish as she scrambled out of Cassian’s lap and towards the blanket ford entrance.

“Nuh-uh, Ottie, you know the rules; if you make a blanket fort you need to pack it up, alright? You get to cleaning and Mum and I will start making dinner.”

The bubble of amusement at Ottie’s groan of annoyance as she stomped up the stairs, laden with pillows, was quick to pop once you realised you and Cassian were now alone. You turned towards him, already feeling his eyes on you, and were met with a soft and knowing expression.

“Cass…”

“Y/N, its fine.” His tone was comforting yet you couldn’t help but feel as though you were disappointing him.

“No, you know that it’s not that I don’t want to. I just…”

“Not yet, I know and its fine. We have Ottie and once you’re ready…once we’re ready, then we can talk about it.” He held out a hand which you took, letting him pull you up off the floor, a small smile gracing your lips when he didn’t pull his hand away and, instead, squeezed yours and soothingly rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand.

You let out another sigh, “Cass…” you tried again but were abruptly silenced as he pressed his lips against yours.

“Stop,” He pulled away but held your gaze, “I love you and we have all the time in the world. Even if you decide that just Ottie is enough, it won’t change anything between us, alright?”

Noting that the hesitant look on your face remained, he kissed you again, putting everything into it until he felt your tension ebb away. “Now enough of this, I don’t want to spend my last few hours here having you feeling like this. Come on, let’s start on dinner. Ottie won’t be happy if it gets too late and she misses out on her treat.” Cassian nipped at your ear, his own concern leaving him after hearing the small giggle you let out. Finally satisfied, he slung his arm over your shoulders and headed towards the kitchen.

“You know she won’t be going to bed while you’re still here, treat or not, she’s going to want to stay up until you need to leave.”

“Well, we can’t have that, she’ll be a nightmare for you tomorrow and then you’ll never want to have another one…” He let out a playful yelp as you smacked his stomach, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Besides, I want at least a few uninterrupted hours alone with you before I have to leave...”

Rolling your eyes you move to pull away, but Cassian was faster as he spun you back around to face him, leaning down to kiss your lips once more and then the tip of your nose before brushing the hair away from your face and giving you a lovesick smile that you couldn’t help but return.

*****

The three of you slumped against the plush, green couch, Cassian in the middle with you and Ottie tucked in either side of him as you finished off the final few crumbs of the slice of chocolate cake Ottie had wanted to share. The young Illyrian let out a loud yawn that she quickly tried to cover up, “that’s so weird, because I’m not even tired.” You raised your brows and shared a look with Cassian who was shaking his head, an amused smirk lighting up his face.

“Hey, Otts? I know it’s not your bedtime yet, but can you do me a favour?” Ottie sat up and gave her dad a suspicious look as she waited for him to continue. “I was hoping you would let me tuck you in early tonight and read you a few stories? I’m going to miss you while I’m away and I’m going to miss bedtimes so was hoping for one more before I have to go?”

Ottie looked back and forth between the two of you before letting out a dramatic sigh, “Fine.” With that, she slid off the couch and grabbed both yours and Cassian’s hands as she began walking towards the stairs and up to her room.

“Very smooth,” you murmured into Cassian’s ear, he just gave you a wink before leaning down to scoop Ottie up, causing her to let out a squeal as he bounded up the remaining steps.

*****

After taking in turns to read Ottie eight different books, she was now tucked into bed with the two of you lying either side of her, tightly gripping your hands as she began to slowly succumb to sleep. Cassian was still as he played with her hair, silently watching her and taking in every little movement and feature. You stayed just as still, just as silent, as you took in the scene before you, knowing that the minutes were ticking by too fast in the count down to Cassian leaving.

“I love you, Ottie.” Cassian whispered the words as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

A sleepy smile spread over Ottie’s face, “I love you too, Dad.” Soon enough her breathing evened out and soft snores filled the room.

Looking past Ottie’s small frame, your eyes met Cassian’s and the tears you found there had the ones you had been fighting so hard to keep back finally escape down your cheeks. Cautiously, Cassian slowly moved, testing just how deeply Ottie was asleep before nodding his head towards the door. You both carefully got up, Cassian leaning back down to fuss over Ottie as he tucked her in further and brushed her hair away from her face before pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. Moving around the bed to stand beside Cassian, you put a hand on his back and rubbed soothing circles across it, waiting for him to make the move to leave.

“Alright,” Cassian whispered, taking your hand and leading you out of the room, “now I want to properly say goodbye to you.”

You had just managed to silently close Ottie’s bedroom door before letting out a yelp as Cassian suddenly picked you and threw you over his shoulder before determinedly walking towards your own bedroom door.

*****

“Stop,” you laughed, a half exasperated, half amused expression on your face, “you’re being ridiculous.”

Cassian just winked up at you from where he rested between your legs, “I’m just making sure you won’t forget about me while I’m away.” He looked back down, a devilish grin spreading as he admired his work, you just groaned as you finally saw the marks he worked so hard to leave already appearing across your hip bones, trailing further and further down.

Pulling himself back up your body, Cassian sprawled himself out over the top of you, trapping you beneath him as your legs intertwined once more, his face burrowed in the crook of your neck as you let your fingers run through his hair. You let the silence envelop you, knowing your time was up but neither of you wanting to acknowledge it.

After what felt like both seconds and years, Cassian shifted, now leaning on his elbows as he looked down at you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. You felt the sting behind your eyes return and knew you wouldn’t be able to speak, so instead you leant up to kiss him. “I have to go…” Cassian said, eventually pulling away just fair enough to rest his forehead against yours, eyes still shut tightly as he held you close.

“I know,” you murmured back, kissing him softly once more before you both reluctantly started to pull apart.

Throwing on the shirt Cassian had been wearing, you watched from where you sat on the edge of your bed as Cassian got dressed.

“Do you know where my –”

“In the corner of the wardrobe.” Knowing he was asking about the boots you had been reminding him to get out all week. Cassian gave you a sheepish look as he ducked into the dressing room, causing you to huff out a laugh as you laid back down and stared up at the ceiling.

“Oh!” Cassian’s voice echoed out to you, “look what I just found.”

You sat back up just in time to catch the small woollen jumper that Ottie would have worn at just a few months old.

“It’s so tiny,” you held the small item up as Cassian sat beside you, leaning down to tie up his laces, “where was this?”

“It must’ve fallen down the back, it was poking out from underneath the drawers. Can you believe she was ever this small?” Cassian sat back up and reached for the jumper, trailing the small cut out sections in the back that once would have fit her wings. A pang of guilt coursed through you at the look on Cassian’s face, knowing what he was thinking about. You weren’t sure if it was the heightened emotions brought on by such an overwhelming day or the images of Cassian holding a small baby that raced to the front of your mind that had you wanting to say something.

“About before, what Ottie brought up –”

“Y/N, we don’t need to do this now, it’s –”

“No, Cass, I was just going to say that maybe… maybe, once you get back, we should talk about it again. Properly this time. I was caught off guard when Ottie mentioned it but…” you trailed off, not quite sure where to go next.

Cassian released a breath, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you against his side and kissed your temple.

“When I’m back, we’ll talk.” You could tell he was trying to keep a neutral expression for your sake, but there was no missing the sparkle that ignited in his eyes and the way the corner of his lips twitched as though holding back a grin. “Fuck, Rhys is going to kill me. I’m going to be so late…”

Your heart dropped as Cassian stood, taking your hand to pull you up off the bed before guiding you to the door. He stopped outside of Ottie’s door, quietly opening it to peek inside and, seeing that she was still fast asleep, let out another shaky breath before whispering “I love you, Ottie” as he closed the door once more. You squeezed his hand in reassurance, “we’re going to be fine, Cass. We’ll miss you, so much, but we will be fine.” Cassian just grimly nodded in response as you made your way down the stairs.

All you could do was stare at one another, your hands were grasped firmly in his calloused ones, as you stood by the front door.

“You’ve got to go,” you whispered, tears freely falling now as you realised this was the last time you would be seeing him for weeks or, Cauldron forbid, months.

A pained expression crossed his face as he softly wiped the tears away before leaning down to kiss you. You quickly moved again him, the two of you melding together before a soft cough that indicated another person’s presence had you pulling apart.

“I figured you would need a little longer to say goodbye. Thought I would winnow us both over, save you the hassle of flying and experiencing Rhys’ telling off for being late,” Azriel’s low voice broke through the silence as you both turned to face him.

“Hi, Az.” You said, voice shakier than you intended it to be. Cassian simply nodded at his brother as his hand tightly squeezed yours.

“Y/N.” He greeted back with a smile that did nothing to hide the sombre expression that had been becoming a more permanent fix as the going-ons of the Continent continued to surface.

Cassian turned back to you; brows pinched as his eyes scanned your face. You offered him a small smile, not knowing how to make the goodbye any easier.

“I love you,” he said, repeating the words over and over again in a whisper between the hurried kisses he gave you.

“I love you.” No other words were needed as Cassian grimly nodded, leaning down to kiss you once more before taking a step towards where Azriel stood.

“Stay safe,” you called out, doing your best to stop yourself from racing after him, “both of you.”

Cassian’s turned back to face you as soon as he was beside Azriel, every emotion conveyed in a single look.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ll keep him out of trouble,” Azriel replied in an attempt to lighten the weight of what they were about to head into and the significance in the changes that could come about over the following weeks.

*****

Five weeks and three days later

You and Ottie had just gotten home after spending the evening with Elain and Nyx, who she was looking after whilst Feyre and Rhys were in the Dawn Court.

“Mum?” Ottie asked as you slid into bed beside her, “Can I please have two stories tonight?”

“Two? Otts, you look like you could barely stay awake for one. Are you sure? You’ve had a pretty big day.” You had gone into work, so Ottie had spent the day with her friend, Ciela, and, after picking her up, the two of you had then headed straight to the River House.

“Please…”

“Okay, fine. What do you want tonight?”

Whilst you read aloud, Ottie had snuggled up against you, but you could tell by her fidgeting that she was far from sleep.

“…the end.” You finished, placing the book on the bedside table and looking down at your daughter who was staring vacantly at the ceiling, only moving once you had settled back beside her so that she could hold onto you once more.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

“Yep.” But the deflation in her voice didn’t ebb your concern. Instead of pushing her to answer, you wrapped your arms around her and stroked her hair, hoping to offer some form of comfort as she muddled over her thoughts.

You had almost thought she had drifted to sleep and had begun to doze off yourself when Ottie suddenly sat up and looked at you with a determined expression.

“Mum?” You sat up as well, giving her a soft smile to encourage her to continue. “You know how before Dad left, I said I wanted a baby brother or sister? Well, I’ve changed my mind, I like that it’s just the three of us. Maybe we can get a dog? Dad’s always saying he wants a dog and that it would be really fun. And then the dog can keep you company when we’re flying and you’re on the ground, and it will also be able to…”

Ottie continued to list all the reasons why you should get a dog, yet you were waiting for her to drop the reason for her sudden change of heart in regard to a sibling. In Cassian’s absence, your mind had run amuck with imaged scenarios and that promised conversation you were to have upon his return.

“Well,” you interrupted Ottie’s rambles, noting the way she almost frantically avoided eye contact. “We can definitely talk about getting a dog once Dad is back. But how come you no longer want a little brother or sister?”

“I just don’t…” her voice was muffled as she slumped back against the pillows, pulling the blankets over her head.

Letting out a sigh, you racked your brain for what could’ve caused the sudden change but came up blank. Just this morning she had been telling you that if she had a sibling she wouldn’t need to have gone to Ciela’s because she would have someone at home to play with – completely missing the fact that it was the child caring factor that was the concern at hand. With Ottie yet to lift the blankets away from her face, you tried for another tactic and laid back down beside her, pulling the other half of the blanket over your own head.

“Does Ciela have any siblings?”

“Yes, three”

“What are they like?” You asked, maybe it had something to do with one of them picking on the girls…

“They’re alright,” Ottie shifted closer to you, and you were quick to pull her into a hug that she immediately melted into. “One of them is too little to play, the other one was at the big kids’ school today, and the other one is a grown up.”

“Did you tell Ciela you wanted to be a big sister?”

“Yes…” her voice trailed off into a whisper and she took in a shaky breath, burring her face tighter against you.

“Oh? What did she have to say about that?”

“Nothing really…,” Ottie squirmed a bit before continuing, “but she said she had heard her mum talking about you and daddy to Niamh’s mum.” You let out a sigh, knowing you were close and not liking where this could be heading. You knew people talked about you and Cassian and the cliché of you being his nanny before getting together, you only hoped they had the common decency not to bring a four-year-old into the mix.

“Did Ciela tell you what they said?”

There was a beat of silence before her quiet “…yes.”

You could only just make out Ottie’s response before she was sniffling and curling in on herself. Pulling the blankets away you scooped Ottie into your arms and held her tightly against you, one hand rubbing up and down her back while the other soothed her hair as she quietly sobbed into the crook of your neck.

“Sweetheart,” you started after a few moments, pressing a kiss to the top of her head once her sobbing turned into quiet sniffles. “I need you to tell me what happened, please? Otherwise I won’t know what to do to fix this and make you feel better.”

“They said… They said that when you and daddy have a baby,” her shaky intake of breath had your heart breaking even further at the inner turmoil she must have been hiding from you all afternoon. “That you will send me away to live in the Autumn Court because… because I’m not…”

You pulled back to look her in the eye, blood thrumming in your ears as you waited with bated breath for her to finish saying those dreaded few words, doing your best to quell your anger and focus on the girl in front of you.

“Because you’re not what, Ottie?”

“Because I’m not your real daughter. And when you have your own baby, you won’t want me anymore.”

The few beats in which Ottie’s eyes welled with tears as she hid her face against you gave you all but a moment to compose yourself and decide how you wanted to navigate the situation.

“Well,” you started, keeping your tone light, “that is just the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard, and you’ve heard some of the things your dad says...” Ottie pulled back and looked up at you with wide eyes, lower lip still trembling as she processed your words. “Of course you’re my daughter, I mean, sure I didn’t give birth to you, but that’s hardly the point. Ottie, I have been in your life since before you could crawl, besides, how else would I know how to make your favourite meal, or how to do your hair just the way you like, or the fact that you only like chocolate brownies if half the chocolate is melted and the other half is in chunks, it if I wasn’t your mum?”

You let out a sigh of relief as Ottie wiped away the few remaining tears, a small tug of a smile beginning to appear. “And why would we ever send you away to the Autumn Court? That’s just silly, your home is here, with us. The only time we would ever send you away is if you got to, like, 187 and still lived at home with us, although even then we might still keep you here, we just love you that much.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You are my whole world, Ottie. Everything changed for the better when you and your dad came into my life, and I wouldn’t change it for anything. And if we do have another child, we’re going to need you around to help us out and to teach them how to be just as amazing as you are.”

“I love you, mummy.” You pressed a soft kiss to her forehead and then to her cheeks.

“I love you so, so much, sweetheart.”

You blinked away your tears as Ottie wrapped her arms around you, holding her tightly until she was ready to pull away.

“So, do you think you’re up for the job of being a big sister?” You asked, tickling Ottie’s sides and relishing in the sound of her melodic giggles.

“Yeah, I think so,” Ottie looked thoughtful for a moment before continuing, “please can it be a girl? I don’t want another boy here, daddy is enough.”

You let out a laugh, “I agree, leave it with me and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Wow, I’ve been gone all of five weeks and the two of you have already kicked me out of my bed and decided that it’s a girls-only house. Maybe I should leave and stay with Uncle Rhys and Auntie Feyre, at least Nyx appreciates me.”

Your heart froze at the sudden voice, not having heard anyone approach, and then it completely melted at the sight of Cassian before you.

Ottie froze from where she was beginning to settle herself back against the pillow, looking between you and Cassian with wide eyes and a stunned expression that slowly broke into a look of pure joy.

“Daddy!” She all but jumped across the bed and launched herself towards where Cassian had been leaning against the doorframe, her small wings carrying her the rest of the distance. Cassian was quick to catch her in a tight embrace, spinning her around and around as he peppered kisses all over her face, sending her into a fit of giggles and happy squeals.

Completely caught off guard and feeling overwhelmed at the heartwarming reunion before you, you slowly pulled yourself out of bed and took a few steps towards the pair, grinning as you caught Cassian’s eye from over Ottie’s shoulder.

“Well,” Cassian started as he set Ottie back down on the ground and knelt down to her level, “now that I’m home, I think you should go back to your room–”

“But dad–”

“–to get your own pillow then come right back. What? The least you can do is give me back my pillow seeing that you’ve taken over my side of the bed.”

Ottie grinned at him then jumped forward to give him another tight hug before racing out of the room. With a soft chuckle, Cassian watched her leave before stiffly getting to his feet and turning to face you, the exhaustion so clearly evident you marvelled at how he had managed to hide it so well in those first few moments.

“Hey, you.” Your voice was quiet and came out hoarser than you would have liked but Cassian simply let out an incoherent noise as he stepped closer, all but falling against you as he pulled you into the warmth and comfort of his arms that you had so sorely missed.

“You,” he mumbled into your hair, “are the most amazing and incredible female to ever live. Let me know if I ever stop telling you that, yeah?”

“Cass…?”

“Hi, sorry, I’ve just missed you, so much. And I’m–”

“Exhausted?” you offered, taking in the dark circles under his eyes as you grasped his hand and led him to the side of the bed.

“That too. But I was going to say that just I’m so in love with you that these past few weeks have been absolute torture.”

“I love you too.” You laughed at his jumbled words, shaking your head as you took in his face before pushing the stray pieces of hair away from his eyes, your heart stuttered at the way Cassian moved into your touch.

“Y/N…,” he stared at you for a beat before his own hand came up to cup your face, gently pulling you closer in such a way that had your heart skipping a beat as your eyes flickered shut in anticipation of finally, finally having his lips on yours again.

“Gods, I’ve missed you.” Cassian murmured against you as his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer so that he could deepen the kiss. You responded just as enthusiastically, hands landing on the base of his neck as your fingers tugged on his hair, causing him to let out a small moan that had you grinning.

“Hi,” you whispered as you pulled away.

“Hi,” Cassian’s voice was just as soft as his eyes skittered across your face, leaning in once more until the patter of footsteps had him pulling away.

“I’m in the middle!” Ottie announced as she reappeared in the doorway, bounding over to the bed and making space for her pillow before looking at you both expectantly.

You watched Cassian with a worried expression as he turned to look at Ottie in bemusement. There hadn’t been much news from anyone regarding what had been happening, likely for security reasons, just the occasional hurried notes from Rhys and Feyre checking in and letting you and Elain know that everyone was okay and would hopefully be home soon.

“Do you want some food or a shower or anything…?”

Cassian pressed a kiss to your cheek, before trailing his fingers down your face, eyes lighting up just at the sight of you before him. “If I smell that bad, I’ll go and shower, but right now I just want to be with my girls.”

Shaking your head, you pushed Cassian towards the dressing room, “at least get changed before getting into bed, you’re still in your leathers.”

“I thought you liked me in my leathers.” He called back, making you roll your eyes as you climbed back into bed beside Ottie.

“You were right,” she mused with a thoughtful nod of her head, “Daddy does say some silly things.”

*****

After filling Cassian in on every little detail he had missed, Ottie was quick to fall asleep, complete exhaustion from her activity-filled and emotional roller coaster of a day knocking her out as soon as the initial shock and excitement of Cassian’s return ebbed away.

Once Ottie’s soft snoring filled the room, Cassian gave you a look before silently scooping her up and carrying her to her own bedroom. You knew she would be mad about the fact that she had been moved when she woke up in the morning but after a month of not seeing Cassian, you were more than happy to deal with the consequences of that later on.

“Is she alright?” Cassian asked after closing your bedroom door and sliding back into bed, immediately wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face against your neck.

“Yeah, she’s alright. How much did you hear?” You let your fingers trail through his hair, a month’s worth of stress and tension easing away simply by having Cassian beside you again.

“Enough,” the darkening of his voice told you that he knew exactly what had happened. “Ciela’s mum?”

“And Niamh’s.” You added, tone bitter as images of Ottie’s distraught face returned to the front of your mind.

“For fucks sake… can’t they just mind their own business.”

“She’s alright.” You reassured, knowing there would be plenty of time to get into it over your daughter’s friends’ mums, but not wanting to waste the time you currently had together doing so.

“I know…” he trailed off, letting out a sigh before pressing small kisses along your neck.

“Are you alright though? What’s happening on the Continent, will it –” Cassian cut you off with a kiss that you immediately returned.

“I’m fine. And that will all be fine. Tomorrow, alright? I’ll tell you everything but right now I just…” he trailed off and looked down at you, a soft yet longing smile on his face that you returned before tangling your fingers in his hair once more and pulling him closer.

*****

For someone who appeared to be completely exhausted, Cassian still had plenty of energy when it came to you in those few hours that followed his return home. You knew you would both feel the brunt of getting next to no sleep once the sun had fully risen, but as you lay in the calm silence of your candle-lit bathroom, your back against Cassian’s chest, both of you submerged in the warmth of the lavender-scented bathwater, you couldn’t find yourself caring.

Cassian had begged you to fill him in on every single detail of every day that he had been away for, no matter how boring and uneventful it seemed, he wanted to hear it all. He also managed to easily skirt away from any questions you directed at him regarding his time away and what had happened in the Dawn Court and on the Continent. Knowing he needed time to decompress, you playfully flicked water at him in response before jumping into a recount of Ottie trying to outfly Nyx and winning.

When you felt Cassian’s breathing begin to even out, the strokes of his fingers through your hair growing lazier and slower, you finally made a move to get to bed.

“Cass?” All you got was a grunt in return as Cassian pulled you back into the water and nestled his face against your bare back. “My love, you are exhausted and need to sleep. Come on, bed time.”

Reluctantly, Cassian let you help him out of the bath, his exhaustion clearly taking over as he slumped against the bathroom counter, eyes shut as you wrapped the large towel around him. Once you were both dry, you took Cassian’s hands and led him back into your bedroom, helping him onto the edge of the bed before pulling out some loose-fitting sleepwear for him to change into. As he collapsed against the pillows, you were surprised you didn’t hear the immediate onset of his snores, instead finding him watching you get ready for bed, a sleepy yet adoring expression flickering across his face.

You were about to climb in beside him when the sudden appearance of a small, folded sheet of paper caught your eye:

Please tell me he got back in one piece? We were all planning on coming home tomorrow but Az said he insisted on flying straight home as soon as the final meeting finished up.

- Rhys

“Cass, why do I have a note from Rhys saying you flew all the way home instead of waiting just one more night to winnow back with the others?

“Shh,” Cassian murmured as he reached for you and pulled you against him, “wanted to see my girls. I missed you.” The words were muffled against your skin, heavy breathing quick to follow.

The soft thud of a pen landing on your bedside table where the note had appeared only moments before had you rolling your eyes.

Yes, he made it home, missed telling me the part where he flew hours across Prythian without taking a break... No wonder he’s so exhausted, head hit the pillow less than a minute ago and he’s already snoring! See you all soon

- Y/N x

Mere seconds passed before another sheet of paper appeared on your bedside table.

Clearly not that exhausted if he’s only just asleep, he would’ve made it home hours ago according to when Az said he left ;)

- Rhys

You scoffed and scrunched the piece of paper up, not deigning to reply to your High Lord’s cheek, before settling back against your pillow. Cassian immediately reached for you, pulling you tight against him, even whilst being fast asleep. You let yourself relax against him, quickly finding sleep now that Cassian was back home and where he was meant to be.

*****

Tag List: @mis-lil-red @sarawritestories @beardburnsupersoldiers @eve175 @blushingfawnsposts @turtleshavesoulmates @slytherinindisguise @sleepylunarwolf @starryhiraeth @tele86 @azrielsmate3 @anuttellaa @purple-haired-faerie @lilac-witch @cassianstannn32 @littlelunatica @nighttimemoonlover @jswizzlewrites @azrielsmate3 @fxckmiup @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @talesofadragon @natashachelsea @lilah-asteria @callsigns-haze @blackgirlmagicforever @crimsonwritings @mp-littlebit @inloveallthetime @koemi-kimo

Let me know if you want to be added! 🥰

#cassian x reader #cassian acotar #cassian x y/n #azriel acotar #rhys acotar #cassian x you #cassian imagine #dad!cassian #feyre acotar #elain acotar #acotar #acofas #acomaf #marley writes

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rosesanddecay · 5 months

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Pt. 2

TW: angst/comfort, reader cries a little and is mentioned to have been in therapy

<< Previous | Next>>

The silence was agonizing. The air felt drowning and heavy. It didn’t help that no one could look at each other.

Soap and you have migrated to the couch after realizing that the conversation probably should be had while sitting.

How are any of you meant to address any of this?

Each of you knew just enough to fill in the blanks, but how is-

“So…” Johnny broke the silence and your train of thought. “How do you all know each other?”

“Really, Soap? That’s how you want to start this?” Gaz remarked, letting his grievance show.

“Aye! How else ye expect this to go?! How ye think I feel knowin’ ye’ve shagged my lass?”

“Jesus Christ…” you groan as you hide behind your hands.

“Not everyone-“ Simon murmured leaning back in with his arms crossed.

“Simon!” You exclaim, revealing your warmed cheeks to everyone.

“Well with the way ye look at ‘er I would’ve guessed otherwise-“

“Okay- no, that’s it-“ you stand in front of them all, pointing as you addressed each. “You- Simon, are meant to be dead, I went to your funeral. Fucks sake, I visit those graves everytime I drive past them!”

Simon couldn’t stand to defend himself, because he knew that already. He’d seen you talking to his and his family’s graves every now and then when he went to see them himself. It had torn him apart to not reveal he was alive, but he’d convinced himself it was for your sake. Even if that meant you’d shed more tears.

“You pushed me away for months before ultimately saying that you needed to move for work, that you couldn’t be with me anymore-“ your eyes still held the hurt from long ago as you gazed at Kyle.

“It wasn’t a complete lie…” Kyle scratched at his head, his poor attempt to redeem himself falling flat.

“Shut it, Garrick. You-“ your finger landed on Price, “Why didn’t you tell me you were in town? I assume you’ve been back for a while, so why didn’t you say anything?”

John knew he had no excuse, so he didn’t attempt to deny his reasoning. “Though’ ye might’ve been with yer other man…”

A hefty exhale escapes you as you hold back from saying more. You could slap him, because how, after all this time, does he not see himself as enough? Instead, your gaze landed on Johnny.

“And you, Johnny, you didn’t really do anything, but still, this could’ve never happened if you or John just told me who else was on the team.”

“Or told us who ye were dating.” Kyle muttering was directed to Johnny, but it earned side eye from you.

“Moral of the story,” you continued, “all of you have been keeping things from me. And now we’re here… and I don’t know what to do or say…” your voice broke a little from the festering emotions. Everyone was quick to their feet to comfort you, John worming his way to the front.

“Aye, lass, there’s no need to cry. We just need to talk this out.” John’s hands cupped your cheeks as the tears threatened to spill. “Maybe we should take a break, take a breather. Later, we can talk one on one with you and each other.”

You nod as you try to calm yourself, doing the short breathing exercises you learned from therapy.

John placed a soft kiss to your forehead before being pushed aside by Johnny. His arms quickly envelop you and he kisses your temple.

“Common lass, let’s get ye out of here for a bit…” Johnny whispered and pulled you into the bedroom, leaving the other men standing in a circle, stuck their own thoughts…

————

Idk what to call this series so feel free to leave some suggestions!

Also didn’t want to make this series too angsty, but reader is definitely gonna need some one-on-one time with each of the boys…

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naffeclipse · 4 months

Note

So about Devil eyes au… i wanna ask about Sun and Moon. How did Officer YN meet them? How are the relationship and interactions between them? They’re such pookies and ngl Officer YN feels like an angel with their morals and such. Show em boys kindness 🫶

even if we also have the devil himself on the side

(i heard that you talked about how they met in an ask but i couldnt find it at all 😔)

How they meet is currently something I'm mulling over. While I can't give you the exact context, I can say when they meet, it's a bit stressful for everyone.

Officer Y/N is introduced to Sun and Moon, the brothers of the serial killer who's been terrorizing you for a while now, and you are wary, to say the least. You expect more of Eclipse, just packaged in yellows and blues. You are terrified that they're just as wicked and cunning and that they'll want to torment you as much as Eclipse does.

Likewise, Sun and Moon are afraid of you. They are floored when Eclipse brings a cop to them. They can only see you actively trying to apprehend them or gather forces who will do so. Humans for them have only been horrible and terrifying, and to boot, you're an authority figure who has the power to put them right back where they escape.

But Sun and Moon are not Eclipse. And you are not turning them in despite being wanted animatronics who fled their establishment.

Sun is the least skittish out of the two. He has had his fair share of awful encounters with humans, but he still has a little spark of hope that there's good somewhere, and he finds that in you. At first, Sun is walking on eggshells around you and exceedingly polite, desperate to keep you appeased and calm, but slowly, he starts to ease slightly when you bring him watercolors to paint with. He says something that might upset a human but you respond in a steady, calm voice. He feels you start to grow upon him like a climbing flower and he lets himself become comfortable around you, trusting your intentions. He has been searching for the light for so long, and there you are, sunshine.

Moon has walls up (including a moat with crocodiles). He has seen the worst of humans and understands their wrath to be a cruel and blunt weapon, and he expects no less from you. He's a ghost on the edges of your peripheral, always keeping to corners and shadows, becoming invisible if he can. He sometimes startles you with how silent he can be, how he watches you like he's waiting for a gun to go off. He's rarely truly relaxed but he speaks more to you when he sees you're tired and less likely to react. He doesn't tell you this, but he looks forward to when you bring him a new record to listen to and you sit quietly beside him, nodding along to the tunes. He doesn't want to open up but he feels you slip inside the way water trickles into the cracks of stone.

You don't want to believe their sincerity. They are just as unknown and potentially dangerous as Eclipse, and you can see their love and loyalty to their brother, but you struggle to be careful when they're so sweet to you. You're used to devilish eyes following you and dark threats made against you that you almost fall apart when Sun asks if you would like a hand with cleaning the dishes or Moon offers to sit on the edge of your bed until you fall asleep after a nightmare. They don't take, they don't command, and they don't scare you. And that terrifies you. Is this just their way of toying with you? Is this how they worm their way into your head until you can't walk down the street without fearing they're somewhere close by? You don't know, but you do know that Moon's shoulder is a nice place to rest your head and Sun is a comforting voice among your whispering doubts.

There's going to be time to get closer to each other. You can offer a kind hand that Sun and Moon haven't seen in a really long time and in return, Sun and Moon can become a safe harbor in the storm that is their brother.

#devil eyes #officer!reader #nightyelean

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scarystickers · 2 months

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AU where the tma really is just an office comedy/ soap opera and Annabelle Cane is your host/narrator.

S1: Worm infestation so they have to work remote for a bit, Sasha gets her identity stolen but sorts it out with her bank. Martin temporarily lives in the archives because his apartment is filled with asbestos.

S2: Sasha’s identity is revealed to have been stolen by her secret twin sister after she attempts to impersonate her. Sasha then resolves this but quits to go and pursue other passions (contract with show ended). Jon seeks therapy. That S2 finale that every sitcom has where the protagonist finally starts realizing his feelings for love interest.

S3: Tensions rise due to an unresolved argument between Tim and Jon about which circus they should go see. Elias gets arrested for committing tax fraud (contract ended). Season ends on Jon and Tim getting in a car crash on their way to the circus (emotional climax, Tim dies because his contract ended).

S4: Martin gets transferred (significant impact on the romance subplot). Wacky adventures include: Jon and Daisy investigating a cemetery because she needs help with a case, The branch that Martin got transferred to falls apart and he ends up back at the archives where the two lovebirds finally get together. The season that everyone only acknowledges the finale of because the love interests are mostly separated and the problematic but loveable boss got replaced.

S5: Jon and Martin move to Scotland into their little cottage with the highland cows in the season finale and nothing bad ever happens and only good things and nobody dies ever, the end.

#bonus:#jurgen leitner #is their weird librarian who they suspect has been living in the basement #yes this is losely based on the office and b99 #man i just love annabelle and want her to have the creepy show she deserves #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin

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hollyhomburg · 1 year

Text

Before I Leave You (Pt.58)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Your nightmares are a troubling development but the pack won't let you drown. They have different ideas on how to help you. Some more damaging than others.

Tags: Angst, Hurt/comfort, Fluff, Cuddling, scent marking, Nightmares, graphic depiction of fake character death, Discussions of past rape, No explicit depictions of past rape/sexual assault, past domestic-abuse, flashbacks, safe-wording during sex (Sorta), unpleasant sexual encounters, under-negotiated kink, mentioned sex toys, crying during sex, Sad blow jobs, small dick jungkook, allusions to past eating disorders, anxiety, implied self-hate, self-esteem issues, non-verbal main character.

W/c: 12.9k

A/N: this chapter was originally supposed to be a lot longer- but i got too in depth with it and had to split it up. This is easily one of the more heavy chapters of bily (and that's saying something), so please be mindful of the tags! For anyone wanting to skip the super triggering parts in the next chapter i've highlighted a sentence in red font both after the first triggering section and before the very triggering ending.

Special thanks to @imperiussexrex for helping me with jk's part <3 they're the bestest <3

Previous Chapter- Masterlist

"Sleep well, my lovely little spy."

Jin’s eyes flutter open, looking up at the beta who's watching him with a gentle but noticeably tense smile. Jin’s mouth is dry, he could pretend he didn’t hear anything but there would be no use. The truth wouldn’t change.

"Holy shit.” Jin’s whole body is ridged. Ready to run. In panic mode. But Yoongi’s hand settles on his shoulder. It’s the same touch as always and just as gentle and kind as it was both this mourning and 6 years ago. Yoongi has always been a kind soul, regardless of every secret Jin's ever learned to love about him.

Letting himself be known in return feels a little bit more perilous. Jin’s heart thuds against his fingertips. He swallows hard.

Yoongi hums, agreeing with Jin’s assessment. He runs a hand gently through Jin’s hair. Tugging away loose a knot. “Holy shit indeed.”

Everything is fine. In the wake of the dead body, everything in the pack is absolutely fine.

(That’s a lie, everything is definitely not fine, everything is in fact- falling apart. Like a butterfly larva worming its way to crystalize. Carving its way towards both womb and tomb. Something that changes you or destroys you.)

Jin and Yoongi can only hope.

It’s only hope after all. How much damage can it really do?

~-~

Your unraveling starts with the Nightmares.

Tonight, it’s a dark tangle of half-forgotten moments. A movie with all of the scariest scenes copied and pasted. Bright punctures of feelings like blood dripping down your chin and the tang of it in your mouth. Geumjae’s scent in your nose as he shoves your mouth against his skin. All of it. Every unhappy memory that your psyche has locked away for later drags you down like the tide would drag a stone to a watery grave.

Until the moments condense like a figure rising through fog and you’re sitting in that house again. The one with the yellow brocade curtains pulled closed across the windows so that no one sees what happens inside.

You're sitting with Geumjae at the dining room table. The elaborate meal in front of you rises with steam and smells divine calling you like a moth to honey. The cutlery is polished so clean that you can see your reflection in it. A million dancing tiny versions of you stare back with vacant doll-like eyes.

You remember this meal; you remember what happened to you on this morning. The soreness between your legs reminds you of that horror. You remember how hard you worked after he left in the morning after leaving you in a bloody heap on the bathroom floor. You remember hoping that if you did everything you absolutely could to prepare this meal, He’d be satisfied and he wouldn’t hurt you again.

But avoiding rape is never quite so easy.

It was foolish to hope back then. Geumjae was a man of routine and he required your body every morning and evening without fail. But hoping is so hard to avoid, like an itch under your skin that demands biting nails, a furious sort of wanting. Hope is nothing more than a chain that drags you through the sludge when you think it might be your buoy.

In this nightmare, the other chairs at the table aren’t empty like they usually are. It’s not just you here.

He must have taken a needle and stitched your mouth shut (like he always threatened) because you feel powerless to scream at Namjoon to get away to stay back. You can do nothing more than watch as he leans over and says something to Geumjae that makes him smile. His smile makes him look like Yoongi; who sits at the head of the table and nurses a glass of wine while scowling.

Jin is on Namjoon's other side, hair combed back from his face in a way that makes Seokjin look absurdly pretty. The picture of delicate omega composure. Each of them eats like they haven't in days, shoveling food into their mouths like it’s their last meal.

Jungkook is by your side and asks if you’re going to eat your dinner roll. Puffy and crusty bread that he never would be able to eat in real life. You watch powerlessly as he scarfs it down like he hasn’t ever eaten anything more delicious. Licking his fingers from the crumbs when he finishes.

Tae is dressed in your jewels this time, not Jimin's. The necklace Geumjae gave you for your second anniversary digs into her collar bones as if it was pinned there. Like a butterfly on a piece of cardboard. Glittering with more diamonds than seem possible. Like one of those Instagram filters, every reflection mark turned glittery. Jimin’s suit is like something out of vogue.

One moment you’re looking at the perfectly edible food and the next you’re watching it rot before your very eyes. The meat greying and melting. The salad wilts gooey and spoiled. The fancy porcelain plates writhing with worms and maggots and creepy crawlies that slither out of nowhere. A spider inches its way up your fork.

No one notices. No one realizes that the bites they bring to their lips are poison. Jin licks his lips, the skin already greying and cracking.

Geumjae looks up at you from his plate, grinning all the while. Collar starched white. You haven’t heard his voice in so long but your mind remembers the exact cadence of it in perfect detail.

“What’s wrong princess? Aren’t you going to eat up?

When you look back at them it's already too late. Namjoon’s slumped in his chair staring blankly forward with bloody eyes. When you look Jin’s got his head half gone. Cut away. Wriggly things curl behind what's left of his eye.

Tae’s collarbones are bleeding where the diamond collar sits. Ribbons drip down her bodice. Jimin’s white shirt is slowly blooming red too. Bullet wounds pepper his chest. One on his shoulder and a cluster of them over his heart.

Jungkook slumps over his plate seizing until he’s still. Still the way that dolls are. Dead. Looking at you with wide vacant eyes that go grey with congealing blood.

Yoongi's hands are burning, fire licking up his clothes and he does nothing to put it out. Burning and bubbling and boiling. Skin peeling up like paint beneath the flames.

Hoseok is the only one not at the table.

Across from you, Geumjae smiles again. Baring his teeth in that animal way of his. “What’s wrong princess? I thought you said you loved them- aren’t you going to try and stop it?”

One moment he’s across the table and the next he’s leaning over you, back in that bedroom that was your hellhole less than a year ago. Pulling you by your hips to the end of the bed when you try to twist away. He fumbles with his belt buckle.

The sheets burn against your skin like its rug burn and although you weakly push at his chest. It feels like you're moving in slow motion. Your strength is nothing compared to his. It never was enough in real life anyway.

“No- no I don’t want- please don’t,” you choke. Trying to get him off of you, when he opens his mouth there are maggots there too.

You never did find out what they did with Geumjae’s body. But now you know as the rotting corpse of your dead husband assaults you. Boney hands grab your wrists as the worms drip out, dangle, and wriggle, falling onto your face and-

One of the terrible things about the big nest upstairs is that it’s really easy to get trapped in the middle with no easy way out.

Hobi finds himself in that position when he wakes. It’s the middle of the night, nearly 3 am probably when he’s roused by the familiar ache in his stomach that tells him he needs to pee.

The shades are pulled across the windows keeping the light out, and what little slips through is kept out by a thin curtain that sections off the nest from the rest of the room. Shielding the familiar lumps of packmates buried beneath the nest slumbering away.

It feels good to have all of you sleeping in one space, the instinctual pleasure flutters and builds on the edge of Hobi’s consciousness as he lifts his head. Barely opening his eyes. It feels homey in the way that Namjoon's rut nest hadn't. It's a true nest, Smelling thick and cakey sweet all of your scents drench it now after a few days of you all sleeping here. After finding the dead body, the decision had been unanimous. No more sleeping separately. No more splitting up between the upstairs nest and the remnants of yours downstairs.

Even though it's a new space some things never change. Jimin still sleeps at the edge near the bottom, guarding the nest from the most logical point of vulnerability. Although that might be because of last week.

The pack has made a few other adjustments in terms of safety since you and Hobi found the dead body. Many a moment has hobi walked into a room with Jin and Yoongi only to have them fall silent. But he doesn't have to ask what new precautions they've agreed upon.

They’ve fallen back into the habit of letting each other know when they get to work safely and when they leave, and when to expect them home (the same habit they had just after yoongi left actually) Phone locations are perpetually turned on just in case. But Hobi knows the only time any of them feel truly settled is when they’re all up here.

The nest is big. Big enough for all of you to sleep comfortably, even all sprawled out. But as thoughtful as Yoongi was when he constructed the space he certainly did not think about how hard it would be to leave for a midnight bathroom break given the walls that close in on three sides.

Now, Hobi is trapped and bound by blankets and fancy pillows and the gently sleeping bodies of his pack all around him. The border is high and fluffed. It’s in an alpha's nature to be careful around his packmates and it goes against something very basic in Hobi to even think about disturbing the carefully placed pillows and blankets, the general purposeful disarray of such a cozy nest. Alphas simply don’t fuck with omega nests.

But on the other hand, he’s seriously stuck.

Namjoon, Jimin, and Jin are at the bottom blocking off the most logical point of egress. Jin’s head rests on Jimin's shoulder, dark hair fanning. Yoongi is tangled up with Tae (her hair in these little puffy rollers). And Jungkook’s star fished and spread out by the top edge, right where Hobi was. His fingers rest under his shirt like he’s been rubbing at his stomach. Snoring softly.

Hobi’s heart swells just looking at them.

The only safe avenue of exit where Hobi won’t be climbing over two people is near the bottom left, close to Jin and Namjoon, where you lie on your side, cheek pillowed. Chest rising up and down a little rapidly in the darkness. It’s so dark that Hobi doesn’t see it at first.

Hobi’s so half-asleep that he doesn’t even realize right away that you’re not as undisturbed as the others. That you occasionally twitch like a puppy.

Hobi is no stranger to maneuvering his lithe body around sleeping packmates, muscles straining as he very gently pulls himself over you. Depressing the mattress by your side. His baggy sleep shirt momentarily brushes your face as he shifts over you.

Your reaction is instinctual, one moment asleep and the next awake. Your scent going sour all at once. Exploding in a rush. You push out with your arms, still in the nightmare.

One second Hobi’s on the bed the next he’s stumbling out of it, Barely keeping himself from falling face-first onto the floor. Bare feet slide on the polished wood when he gets them under him. Cursing out a brief “What the fuck?” looking back, ready to be angry at being shoved.

But then he sees that you're sitting up, trembling so hard that your hands can't grip the blanket to get it off of you. Eyes wide and glassy with panic. You blink and blink, lower lip wobbling.

There is a single moment where he just looks at you, but then you let out a small (and admittedly pathetic) chirp.

There is nothing like a chirp that tugs on an alpha’s hindbrain, that drags Hobi's instincts to the forefront like a hook in a fish's mouth. He's honestly surprised that the sound doesn't wake anyone else. Maybe because it's so quiet, so small.

It’s just a dream, just a very bad dream, and your pack is sleeping softly around you. The next thing you feel is Hobi gently crushing you to his chest. Smelling like caramel and boy. Tenderly whipping back your hair from your face. His warm fingertips press against your tender temples dislodging the last bit of you that can't tell if this is real yet.

“Pup? What’s wrong- what happened?"

Hobi looks about as different from Geumjae as anyone possibly could, his jaw slender where Geumjae was wide, eyes bright where his went dark and hooded. Unthreatening and normal brown in the glow.

But just like the dream, you can’t fucking speak.

“Fuck- it was just a dream, whatever it was- it’s not real- I’m-”

You’re shaking and crying and you can’t respond. Your throat is all tight. All of you that is usually happy and gentle is reduced small and scared and quiet. You can't tell where the shadows end and where reality begins. You can only feel his hands. That's the only thing that feels real beyond the terror.

You can't look around; you can't look around at the others- too scared that they'll be dead.

Thank God for the physical nature of Hobi’s job. Herking bags of soil and 30-gallon trees has honestly done him good because it means he can carry you downstairs with a little effort.

Real panic circles his head like a bunch of buzzards, threatening to pick his heart clean. "Hang on- here we go." He turns on each of the lights one by one by leaning into them. Shoulder hitting the plastic, the two of you safer with each click. "See- there isn't anything to be scared of! There's no one here but us."

Hobi is right, Hobi would never lie to you. This kitchen is not the same one from your nightmares. The blinds are blinds and not curtains, drawn to keep out the streetlights not any prying eyes. The old rickety table where the pack has their meals isn't piled with food at all. Only some tangerines in a wooden bowl in the center.

You’re small and shaky in an extra big shirt of Namjoon’s that pools on your thighs when he places you on gently the countertop with a small 'oof'. You're already a little more lucid, eyes darting from the light to the shadows and still trembling faintly. Hobi knows instantly from the stillness that you’re nonverbal. Mouth uncooperative. Your brain is a mix of misplaced adrenaline and cortisol. You smell terrified.

“It’s okay, it’s just a dream, here-” Hobi fills up a yellow plastic cup with water and tips it against your lips. The cold soothes your throat but not to the point that you can speak. You’re unwilling to detangle yourself from him. Real and warm and there now that you’ve got him. hand tangled in the front of his shirt, clinging to him.

He hums as he dabs a cold dishcloth across on your hot cheeks. “You’re okay- I’ve got you.” You lean into his hands, legs parted so that he can stand between them. You look so sad and so small that Hobi’s heart hurts.

You don’t want to speak, really don’t want to but you force yourself anyways. “Don’t remember them- usually- Or wake up in the middle- sorry- M' sorry.”

Your eyes itch, and your face feels all puffy as he continues to dab at it. The cloth is rough and Cold, but hobi's warm where his skin touches yours.

Alive and safe. you barely want to blink incase you miss it.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” Hobi continues to dab at your cheeks, “You get them often?” You shake your head instead of responding and Hobi’s scent goes thick with upset, burning sugar ever so slightly smokey. You sniffle still sort of crying and Hobi does the only thing he can think of.

Maybe it’s just that he’s half asleep himself, or an expression of his alpha protectiveness. The ringing in his ears says protect packmate, provide for packmate, soothe.

Hobi’s scent gland brushes against yours with an electric zing. Pushing you from shaky to boneless nearly instantaneously. He drags his throat and chin across your left shoulder, and then your right.

it takes real effort for him to keep his palms pressed flat against the kitchen counter while he does it but at least it has the desired effect of banishing the last bit of sogginess from your cakey scent. Your instincts purr alphas here, alphas going to keep you safe, keep the shadows at bay.

Your scent goes sweeter and your half-asleep body goes mailable as you lean into him. Resting your cheek on his shoulder, Hobi huffs a soft laugh. It feels sort of nice, having you close like this. He knows how omega's get, Jungkook goes sleepy puppet soft when he's scent marked this close to sleep too.

Yoongi would want Hobi to do this right? Yoongi would want Hobi to comfort his mate. He’d do it himself if he was awake. Hobi’s just being a good packmate. Right?

The hair on the back of your neck stands on end as he pulls away. Is it just your imagination or is he a little reluctant?

A startled chirp bursts from your lips, and you clamp your hand back over your mouth. but hobi's laugh echoes loud off the high ceilings, "It's alright pup." You try to speak again but Hobi shushes you, there’s no need for you to push yourself. Not with him. Not right now.

The slant of the light across Hoseok’s face isn’t right. Too grey and yellow from the light in the hall. It’s too late for it to be morning yet and too dark for you to quiet your heartbeat. Hobi can feel it, jackrabbit fast against his throat.

If he's here, that means the nightmare really was only that. A nightmare. Hobi wouldn't be wrapped around you if the rest of the pack were dead. You don't need to go back upstairs and double-check.

Now if you could only stop crying.

“Here,” Hobi starts to pull away and you make a panicked sound, fingers tangling in his shirt. “I’m not going anywhere, let me just get my bag-” You shake while he’s gone, sitting on the countertop, stumbling when you get off of it, knees weak. Holding the edge until he comes and gets you with an arm under your shoulders, transferring you effortlessly to the couch.

When did Hobi get so good at this? You’d be inclined to think this was just another dream (one of those shameful ones that you don’t even mention to Yoongi) but you’re not sure you could have dreamed this up.

“Lights off or on?” You shiver so he goes one by one turning on the overhead lights and then the lamps, the ones under the cabinets in the kitchen too. There’s not a hint of shadow here, no monster that he couldn’t guard you from.

You can still see the light behind your eyes when you close them. Blinking slowly like a cat would. Hobi has his headphones in his hand, not his usual earbuds but the dilapidated black over-the-ear headphones with peeling stickers on the sides that have been his almost as long as Yoongi has (they might have been stolen from the record store- back when Yoongi's rebellious streak ran a little wider).

The second they go around your ears the world dampens and your heartbeat slows.

“I’ve got you.” Hobi mouths, reaching to pull your head to lie against his shoulder, the blue light flicker of his phone screen hurts your eyes as he scrolls through some songs and puts one on. It’s slow and soft, mostly instrumental except for faint vocals. You can’t hear what Hobi says but he pulls you to rest against his side. Settling.

He doesn’t make you talk about the nightmare. Doesn’t make you talk at all. You melt, pressing your face into his shoulder as hard as you can, your shaking relaxing with every word. Every soft hum. It’s working, your trembling is only skin-deep now. In a few minutes, you won't be shaking at all.

“Go to bed,” he asks, even though you can't hear him. Pillowed against him. The songs shift quietly. Your hand somehow gets under Hobi’s shirt and presses against the skin of his hip. Holding it softly so that he doesn’t go anywhere, it feels like a bit of a thank you.

You cling to him and he lets you. You probably can’t hear him but he still repeats, “I’ve got you.”

I’ve got you.

~-~

Yoongi’s never shot up faster in his life, leaving part of himself in the dream. He can feel the panic down the bond as he stumbles. The nest is too empty. Yoongi’s sleep-sluggish brain counts the number of bodies and he goes cold when he counts five and not seven. Pure shuddering terror bleeding down his back like he's just been doused with cold water.

Where are you? Where is Hobi? There is something wrong- something seriously wrong. Yoongi can feel it on the back of his tongue, the taste of your despair acidic. Once a familiar feeling, now lashing him like lightning.

Communicating directly through the mating mark isn’t something that happens often anymore for the two of you. It did when the bond was fresher, but now that it’s settled the connection has dulled. In the way that clothes go worn and comfortable. It’s not usually a stabbing pain like this. Such a visceral feeling that it wakes Yoongi up from it.

Yoongi stumbles to the door following your scent like a man possessed. The way it shifts from the nest. Panicked to not alone. Hobi’s panic too saturates the air. Yours is rainy wet and Hobi’s is burnt and over-sweet, faintly medicinal.

There are sounds on the stairs. Footsteps rouse Hobi just as he’s finally fallen asleep. His neck aches from how he’s been leaned back against the couch And he winces as it cracks.

“Hobi?” Yoongi calls cautiously. At his waist, your fingers tangle loosely in his shirt holding onto him like he’s a lighthouse in a storm, clinging to him even as you sleep. Hobi realizes he’s got a bit of your hair stuck to his lips. Spitting it out.

“Over here.“ Hobi’s jaw pops when he yawns. Yoongi stumbles to you because he can’t stay away when you’re like this. When you need him. You don’t rouse when Yoongi touches you, cupping your cheeks. Eyes feasting on the crusty salt around your eyes, the faint silvery shimmer of dried tear tracks across your cheeks.

“She had a nightmare- couldn’t sleep with the lights off so- thank god you're here I have to pee like so fucking bad-” Hobi says quietly.

Yoongi definitely does not eye the way that your hand stays loosely knotted in the front of his shirt, or note verbally the way that you smell like him. Drenched in hobi's scent and clinging to him.

“Daisy,” Yoongi says, sounding a bit surprised and alot in love, tucking his Hobi’s hair behind his ear. Standing over the two of you looking a little shaken. Yoongi is an expert at moving you softly detangling your hand from Hobi's shirt without waking you and freeing Hobi from his self-imposed prison.

He's still shaken when Hobi comes back from the bathroom. Hobi can’t blame him. You don’t really have the best track record when it comes to disappearing together. First the car crash last month, and now the dead body. It’s understandable why Yoongi’s panicked a bit.

But now he just looks at Hobi. Eyes scanning his face, a small smile beveling the edge of his lips.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Hobi says. The faint murmur of music is barely there, you're still asleep with his headphones on. Hobi had panic made a playlist on his phone after you’d fallen asleep. Putting only the most gentle instrumentals on it.

So what if he’d saved it with a cat emoji and a purple heart? Yoongi can’t possibly know that just by looking at him.

Yoongi doesn’t respond and Hobi tucks his chin, looking down at you, sleeping soundly still. The nightmare must have really tired you out because you're out like a light. His voice goes softer, like the emotion in his throat is constraining his vocal cords.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her panic? That wouldn’t have been kind.”

Yoongi's hand falls onto Hobi's head, rubbing through his hair. the touch feels like a reward. Hobi's not sure what for. “No- it wouldn’t have been Daisy.”

“Like it when you call me that,” Hobi says. Eyelashes flutter as yoongi scratched at the nape of his neck, head bowed. and he can hear the laugh in Yoongi’s voice. Hobi’s not really awake either.

“You don’t have to worry,” Hobi says “I’m not gonna like- freak out and run away if she needs something, like the first time.”

Hobi feels embarrassed about that when he thinks about it. Embarrassed and a little bit fond of the memory every time he sees the train ticket still in his wallet. The top edge is so chewed up that you can hardly tell it’s a ticket anymore.

“Sure,” Yoongi says and Hobi knows he hasn't fooled anyone, least of all your mate. hobi stands up properly, and when his hand falls, yoongi just tugs at his wrist, the callouses on his hands comfortably rough against hobi's skin. “Come on.”

You wake bleary for a handful of seconds when Yoongi puppets you, moving to sprawl out while Hobi discards the back cushions. Yoongi slips Hobi’s headphones off your ears and puts them safely to the side. wordless and publish while yoongi gets one of the blankets to tug it over your form.

Yoongi tuts and doesn't let hobi avoid the same predicament. although it's Infinitely more comfortable than his prior half-crunched position. If Yoongi’s being honest, it sort of looked like Hobi was guarding you. body curled over in a protective stance.

Alpha's are so funny.

Hobi ends up face-to-face with you. His flannel pj set un-buttoned to the middle tugged loose from your tugging earlier. the triangle of his bare chest presses against the bare skin of your collarbone as he shuffles away from the edge of the couch. Your own pj set pulled off one shoulder. Yoongi’s sitting up, his thigh warm against the top of Hobi’s head.

You’re running a fever maybe, worming your way closer to Hobi like you need it. Your nose presses into Hobi’s chest, a little cold at the tip and ticklish. Hobi squirms and Yoongi huffs. Overly fond.

“She does that to me in her sleep too sometimes. Means she likes your scent.” Hobi feels warm, and it’s no secret that his scent fluffs up sweeter, as if encouraging you to enjoy it. You re-settle. falling asleep with your nose tucked into Hobi's sternum.

Fuck you’re both so cute, your hair mixing colors on the pillow- sharing the same one because even being that far apart is too much. Hobi falls asleep with Yoongi combing gentle touches down his back. His favorite way to fall asleep- being touched so casually and consistently. You breathe against his skin, cradled to his chest. Sleeping soundly. Finally soothed.

Hobi watches you until sleep takes him.

~-~

Unfortunately, that’s not the last time you’re woken by a nightmare in the coming weeks

Over the next few days, it seems like more often than not Yoongi and Hobi wake to the scent of your terror in the air. Quieting your little sobs with soothing touches in the bathroom. Blankets are brought into the space so that you can curl up in the bathtub, darkness kept at bay by the overhead lights, its lingering shadow curling underneath the doorway trying to drag you down.

They don’t mind, at least they tell you they don’t mind when it eventually comes time to wake in the morning and your words are barely intact. Soft and rough in a way they haven’t been in months.

For you, it feels infuriating. Your non-verbalness might only be a temporary state but that doesn’t mean that overcoming it isn’t tiring. It’s frustrating. Working so hard each day to speak only to have it wrenched away again at night.

Always.

Always you wake up from your nightmares non-verbal. Guided to somewhere light by Hobi so that your fear of the dark won't rouse the rest of the pack. Soothed back to sleep by his music and some scenting. Waking up sometime after sunrise, struggling but better. A routine.

As for the pack…

“It feels like she’s going backward,” you hear Jin confess one morning while he brushes his teeth in the upstairs bathroom. he sounds afraid (he is afraid after waking up to you gone from the nest yet again for the 5th time this week- and it's only thursday). It's obvious Jin doesn't know you're within earshot but the double doors that lead to the bathroom are wide open.

Hobi sends you a fraught look. You’ve just come back upstairs after spending a few hours in the Living Room. You're only able to risk a few more hours of sleep because the sun is turning the sky all grey-blue.

“Do you think-” What he says next is jumbled by the sound of someone turning on the shower, Jungkook or jimin maybe (the upstairs shower is large enough that honestly- all eight of you might be able to fit given you where willing to risk any soap related injuries).

Namjoon’s answering hum is all dark thunder. jin's proposed solution a mystery. “No, I don’t think that would help.”

Sometimes it’s not just Hobi and Yoongi who wake up with you.

Sometimes it’s Jimin. Holding your shoulder with that firm touch looking like he’s about to snap his teeth at any incoming shadows. Sometimes you wake and he’s already sitting at the edge of the bed watching the stairs and the windows. Shirtless, legs splayed with his handgun balanced across his knees.

Or is it just your imagination? Is that just another dream because you certainly don’t see any weapons when he and Hobi pull you from the bed a few seconds later?

They take shifts. Jin and Namjoon blanket you on both sides, soft rumbles soothing you, their quiet banter a welcome melody in your private nest downstairs. Jungkook the next night- who admittedly just wraps his body around you and goes back to sleep so quick it makes you jealous, curled around your spine while you listen to Tae read you a late-night story.

Tae’s delicate murmur does all the character's voices just right. Her lips are both mystery and familiarity. She always seems to crack open the world with the first line.

“Look, I didn’t want to be a half-blood.”

They never make you speak; never treat you like they’re too tired even though you know they are. You can see it on their faces, on Hobi’s eyebags getting greyer by the day. Hobi’s the only one who's there every time a nightmare drags you awake. Even Yoongi doesn’t wake up every time.

(Although you confess it's more because you develop a routine. You and Hobi sleep by the side of the nesting nook, where it’s easy to get out without moving around too much. Close enough to each other that he often wakes smelling like you and you always wake smelling like him).

You try to talk with him about it. Guilt makes your heart feel all stuffy. Is it possible to get a heart cold?

“You know, you could just leave your headphones out-"

“No- don’t worry about it, I’ll just make it up later.”

Always. Always Hobi wakes and plops his headphones on your ears. Sometimes he seems awfully lively, grinning and cracking jokes when you burrow into his chest and wipe your tears on his shirt.

“I am like- among the top 10 worst sponges in history you know?”

Sometimes he wakes you from the nightmares before you’ve had the chance to jerk awake. He recognizes the tell-tale stillness, the quick breaths. He never lets you suffer for long. Waking you with a hand on your shoulder. Allowing you to shove him just a little because he knows you're just reacting to your dream and him bleeding together.

"It's just me- you're okay, I've got you."

Sometimes, you wonder if you’re not the only one who can’t sleep lately.

During the day you spend a lot of time in the nesting pod, catching up on sleep while it's still light outside. dreading the afternoons and evenings when the shadows linger like a looming storm. Alone and safe and quiet.

Occasionally you're joined by noodle, purring up against your stomach. Meowing at you until you lift your arm and he can cuddle close. Sometimes you feel like he knows you’re sadder than you say you are. That when the others aren’t there to watch you, you’re stiller, less mobile than normal. You don't even click away at your phone, half the time you forget to charge it anyway.

Hobi would never tell you- but a few afternoons ago he’d come home to Noodle waiting for him on the front step. He’d lead Hobi inside, little kitty face glaring back at him every few steps. Circling his curled form and yowling when he dared to take a second to take his shoes. off. Panicked and nervous, all but biting on his ankles before he led Hobi into the sunroom. His bushy tail held high.

There he’d meowed woefully at your nesting pod where you slept soundly. So loud that Hobi was worried it would wake you. As if he was trying to say “Aren’t you going to do something?”

Hobi had just quieted the cat with a soft shush and picked him up. Closing the door behind both of them. “Let her sleep nu,” he’d gotten nothing but a tearful meow in response. Some squirming, but no claws. “What do you expect me to do? I’m trying my hardest.”

Noodle keeps his secrets. Hobi’s question goes unanswered by the cat- who’d simply squirmed out of his hold and gone to wait by the door to be let back in. Glaring at Hobi’s retreating figure like he’d been betrayed.

Noodle seems to know something that the pack doesn't. He's sat in your lap during dinner and breakfast every single night this week, especially on the days you’ve slept more.

Hobi continues to try his hardest. He brings home flowers from the shop. He says they’re for Jin but puts them by the nesting pod and no one even bothers to tease him. He makes sure that you don’t fall out of the habit of going on late-night drives. Even though you don’t go back to the beach again quite yet. The memories there are too prescient.

Hobi takes you to the winding mountain road again. Drag racing one night with Jimin, because what good is trying to squeeze in a few hours of sleep before sunrise when you’ll just wake anyway? You might as do something fun until you’d wake up normally.

You leave that night a little more wobbly-legged than Hobi will admit to Namjoon when he asks later. "I'm never getting into a car with you again Minnie- what the fuck."

But sometimes the alphas do use the sunroom when you’re there.

It’s kind of nice to hear them on the other edge of your senses. When you’re dozing and Tae and Jimin want to play video games. their shouts of happiness and false outrage better than their screams of terror.

When Hobi and Jungkook want to do some stretching before they take an afternoon run, their giggles push out the memories of cruel words that ring in your ears. Yoga mats all stretched out and noodle perched on the edge of Hobi's multicolored one. Watching you, tail flicking back and forth.

They'll never know how much they help just by being there.

Or when they work on rearranging Hobi’s plants around. Fitting them into different spots like a jigsaw puzzle and moving them from room to room. He doesn’t mean to be indecisive about it, he’s just trying to find the best home for each of them.

They take the big banana tree upstairs to put it in the nesting room because that honestly has really good light and Hobi’s baby can’t be compromised. They move the monstera there too and switch the string of pearls for three big ferns hanging above your nesting nook. Shifting A big fig tree that honestly looks kinda pretty from the entryway to the corner, hanging part of the way over the small sectional.

A leggy orchid that someone bought Namjoon as a “thank you for not letting me go braindead” present is the wimpiest and smallest of the bunch. Hobi's in the process of rehabilitating it. For now, it sits on the window sill growing a single pathetic leaf.

Hobi tries to spend a lot of time nearby when you’re trying to sleep, he always seems to show up when you're having the hardest time ignoring your thoughts.

They're getting tired of you being a goddamn mess every time. Why can't you just get better? It's pathetic, Hobi is fine. Why are making such a big deal over this? But deep down you know it's not just the dead body that caused all of this.

Things are slow at the flower shop in the fall with only the occasional wedding until the Christmas season starts up. Hobi talks to you about it while he waters his plants and trims up some leaves that are dying. He’s definitely not looking forward to making bows for the whole month of December and wrestling with wreaths. He’d much rather talk to you about his ferns. The big stag leaf one that’s in the corner by the tv. And the big fluffy ones that hang above the nesting pod.

“I know they're messy but If I overwinter them we can hang them back on the porch next year, They looked so nice!”

You hum from the pod, turning your cheek to look up at him. he's got his flannel rolled up to his elbows, a shirt underneath that looks homey and warm. Hobi’s scent grows sweet. “They did look really cool this year, kind of like big green soot sprites.”

“We should watch spirited away again.”

“We should.”

You stretch out in the nesting pod while he fiddles with one of the fronds, pulling off the dead leaves with a crumple. You stretch your curled-up legs, toes brushing the ratan sides of the pod.

“If I was a plant where would you put me?”

“Probably where it’s sunniest.”

You can hear his smile on the words, you hum and go back to sleep while he works. Hobi checks your breathing every few minutes, just to make sure you don’t need to be woken up again.

Hobi never talks about the nightmares and never asks what they’re about. Which is something you’re thankful for as the days go on and they get worse and worse. You don’t know how many more nights you can wake up gasping without telling them what you're dreaming about. That it's the idea of them dying that has you so panicked. not to mention the nightly revision of the worst parts of your abuse.

Yoongi doesn't always let you escape without a bit of interrogation. Badgering you until you tell him that he needs to stop.

Jin’s just as bad, constantly hovering. You found your sleep schedule, an estimated hours of sleep you’ve gotten scrawled on the edge of a newspaper in Namjoon's handwriting. He's a little generous with his calculation- You know you haven't slept 13 hours in the last 4 days. You’d crumpled up the page and thrown it in the garbage.

In the morning you find out their motive behind it. Blinking down at your cereal and at the red raspberries bobbing in the milk. You can't help but get defensive about this; because really when you go non-verbal so often about this- what good would talking do?

“Jin, I’m not going to therapy.”

Jin looks a little bit less like his usually put-together form, button-up shirt a little looser than it might have been a few weeks back. Yoongi rubs down his shoulders as he passes. Work has been keeping Jin later and later- anytime someone asks he says something about a problem child at the home for forgotten pups that needs Jin's full attention.

It's so very like him to suggest therapy.

He pulls his fingers through his hair, trying to comb it into something orderly. Abandoning his usual routine of gel and mouse. “I’m not saying you have to go consistently- just once or twice, you went through something-“ he breaks off when Yoongi taps his hip, shaking his head.

You’re twisting your hands over your lap, again and again. But the word lands even though it was unsaid. Whereas before you and Hobi had a smart retort- now- the word feels less hollow, more heavy.

And Jin's not just talking about the body.

Jin doesn’t want to be frank, but you don’t look the best. Maybe it’s because you’d been so steadily getting better that they hardly remembered what sadness looks like on you. But now it looks like this; you sitting at the island counter, looking at your food, too nauseous to eat. Actually worried you're going to vomit if you try.

Any other morning, Jin would sit by you and coach you through it, would sit and wait for you and move you somewhere safe, somewhere softer to prod. He'd chase this worry with gentle touches. maybe he'd give you a gentle settling if you were feeling like you needed to reach that happy hazy head space to eat.

Any other morning Jin wouldn’t leave you.

But this morning, the clock says that Jin has exactly 20 minutes before he has to leave for work or else he’ll be late and miss the debriefing on the latest string of murders and drug-related reports. including a very well worded anonymous tip. it's important that jin's there for that.

It’s not enough time to drag you to some corner of the house and scent you happy. Or better- scruff you down into omegaspace where you’d be mailable and more agreeable under his touch.

Yoongi's eyes say, go I've got this, and Jin has never been more thankful for lovely enemies and a partner in crime.

But Jin simply does not have enough time to love you as he should. If Jin has to choose between making you feel loved and making you more physically safe he'll choose the latter every single time.

Baby steps. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and criminal empires won’t fall that quickly either.

“They’ll go away, I know they’ll go away because they did last time,” you reaffirm, only half believing it. You and Yoongi don’t talk about when you first moved into this house, but the truth is these nightmares aren’t really anything new for either of you.

At least this time they don’t come with you hurling your guts up every night. At least this time your words return in the middle of the day. At least you feel somewhat human right now.

Jin sends a fraught look in Hoseok ’s direction. Clearly requesting backup. He holds his hands up, straw in his mouth and ice coffee in his hand. “I’ll go if she goes.” Is all he says backing away. Clearly not ready to take Jin’s side with this. Late for work himself.

Jin almost misses when you guys were adversarial, rather than banded together as a unified front.

I never expected the pups to unionize

He sends Namjoon in a text a few hours later, After no less than 3 separate meetings that have him feeling more than a little tired himself.

Joonie (1:18): Really? I’d thought you would have been ready, no plans to destabilize the monarchy up your sleeve?

Jin can’t stop his smile, he’s conscious of who might be watching, so he hides it with his palm. Flirting on the FBI’s time has never felt so good.

What would you recommend?

Joonie (1:23): Spanking and sweets probably.

That at least had made Jin feel a little bit more at ease. But he knows what Namjoon really means, that he’s saying they should talk about this later face to face. Or worse there isn’t an easy solution. Namjoon had warned him that a request for therapy, however gentle and well-worded it was, might not go over well.

But what else can you do when someone won’t accept your concern? When love falls short? For the first time ever Jin is unsure what you need.

Over the next few weeks, you can tell that they’re being overly gentle with you. Treating you with velvet gloves.

Namjoon barks an order at Jungkook and Hobi when they rough house too close to you. jostling you where you stand unsteady in the bathroom. Tae lets loose a sleepy growl when Jungkook back hugs you one morning- something ordinarily innocuous but now makes you flinch hard. hand pressed over your heart to stop its thundering. Both times Jungkook tucks his tail smelling sour at being scolded even though it's really not his fault.

Everyone's instincts are running on high. Your scent is so off these days. Something about it muted and only getting duller. Jin didn't realize until the other day when he tried to find a pillow that smelled like you while nesting and couldn't.

The head of the FBI's largest organized crime task force, brought to sniffles over not being able to find the right pillow. What would Jin's enemies think?

Yoongi had only sighed, and relinquished his shirt to Jin's nesting. At least that was the next best thing.

but it's not only the little things that they're holding off from; it's sex too. You can clearly tell that they want to instigate something when you come upstairs one night after spending a few minutes with Tae in the library room.

Jungkook sat's tight across Namjoon’s lap. Moving his hips in a way that's sensual clinging to the pack alphas bare chest and licking into his mouth like an omega starved.

You know what they want to do- christen the nest in a way, truly break it in and make it smell like the pack.

But they'd stilled at your appearance and you'd made yourself scarce, clearly not ready to be asked to stay (or scarier- asked to leave). When you'd come back after showering the room had smelled of sour unhappy arousal and Jungkook had been pouting on the other side of the nest from Jin and Namjoon.

You hadn't heard the whispered argument. "You're treating her the exact same way you treated me when my seizures went bad."

"That was a different circumstance Koo and you know it."

"Still- it doesn't change the fact that you're making the decision for her instead of making a place that's safe enough for her to decide what she wants."

The idea that Jungkook and the others are holding off for your sake has you feeling even more guilty.

Even Tae- once insatiable, now hardly lifts her head from her computer when you walk into the library room wearing next to nothing. You know it’s just that. Just busyness that she's been spending every available second writing her new story.

But you can’t help but feel odd about it. Half guilty and half extra. Unwelcome.

Neglected isn’t the right word. Neglected is the word that Hobi would use for his orchid or the cactus that he accidentally forgot about outside. Two plants that are equally as finicky, opposites but maybe not in terms of difficulty. One praised for being beautiful, the other coveted for being hard to take care of.

It feels like that a lot of the time, that you're just hard to take care of. you're an adult you shouldn't even need to be taken care of at all.

That night- you toss and turn in the bed. Unable to sleep because you can't help but think about it, your thoughts a rushing torrent of you're such a bother. Maybe they're just trying to let you down easily. Maybe all of the love is a lie. You should try harder, if you try harder to overcome this then maybe they won't ask you to leave.

Sadness has rotted your brain a little, you don't know how to get back, how to stop the spiral. Until your hands are so tight that your nails dig into your palms. Leaving bloody little crescents.

The next day you try to catch up on sleep. In the nesting pod. A dark spot. Out of sight and out of mind, where all broken things go when it's clear they can't be fixed in a way that makes them useful. But it feels like you've only slept a few minutes when you're roused- not from a nightmare, but because someone gets into your nesting pod with you.

You smile in your sleep at the scent of honey, rich and golden. So nice and sweet that it makes you get goosebumps. Jungkook noses at them, dragging his cheek along the hair on your arms, soft and pleasant in that sensory sort of way.

Even though the nesting pod was a gift from Namjoon you'd been clear to Jungkook and Jin that they could use it whenever they wanted to. They're always a little bit more inclined to nest upstairs.

You sleepily hold out your arms for Jungkook, only cracking your eyes a little. You're not prepared for the sight of him in a crop top. blinking as you register it. Your pulse climbing higher. Jungkook doesn't say anything, doesn't say anything at all as he pulls his body along yours, settling mostly on top of you. quiet until you query "Kookie?"

He smells a little like the gym, but more like he'd showered there and then come home. You don't remember what day it is, what his schedule was. But the house is quiet around you, it must be one of his early days then?

His nose rubs smooth little circles along your neck, and when you pull back his eyes are a little glassy. "I miss you," he says, voice cracking a tiny bit. You don't have to ask why he misses you when you're right here. You know and your heart clenches painfully.

you laugh, "you just saw me this morning." but his lower lip wobbles, and you know thats not what he meant. it's frightfully easy to knot your fingers in his hair and pull him down to eye level. "c'm here."

You can tell by the way that Jungkook kisses you that he wants you, his arousal burning skin deep as his tongue laves against your lower lip and his hand slides down your chin to cup your scent gland, fingers pressing over the sensitive skin delicately.

You're so fucking tired.

Jungkook’s sex drive is honestly the highest in the pack, and you know that they usually keep him well tended to. But you also know that because of your predicament, no one’s tended to his needs in the last few days. You can smell it on the edge of his scent. Sweet but overly sweet, like a hovering cloud of settling perfume, unable to settle. Just getting stronger.

It’s not your job, and it shouldn’t be anyone’s job per se, but the idea of turning him down is so displeasing that you won’t even if you’re not really in the mood right now. You're so fucking tired. There isn't room for anything else. you don't have the energy to want this, you don't have the energy to want anything but sleep.

You kiss back, a little gentler than he wants, the soft needy noise he makes against the seam of your mouth tells you just how welcome it is. Your arms are sluggish as they go around his shoulders. He grins happy, and you grin too- because Jungkook’s joy is honestly so infectious. You let him tug you up, tug you out of the nesting pod even though your heart lurches.

This is your use to the pack, isn't it? The youngest omega, the lowest one in the hierarchy. You shouldn't say no and deny Jungkook what he wants. This is the way that he feels free, the way that he makes himself better.

After the pack's sleeping quarters had changed, there’d been a whole debate over where exactly to put the pack's sex toy collection and what to do with their old bedroom on the first floor. The side closet is no longer big enough or in use.

Installing some shelves in the bedroom had been the easiest solution. now they frame either side of the windows, holding Tae's overspill of books at the top and a few display cases. You remember the first day you'd wandered in here in search of your mate and found some suspicious-looking brackets installed along the ceiling studs, sawdust piles sweeper up on the floor.

“It’s totally not a sex dungeon.”

“Babe, you’re making a display for Jungkook’s dildo collection with a built-in sex bench.” At least you can still tease your mate when you're sad like this. Every little semi-normal comment you make feels like seeing the sun during a break from the storm. Even Yoongi's pout is half a smile.

“Just because I want there to be a bench doesn’t mean It’s a sex bench. It could be for like- watching tiktok and stuff. You know Hobi likes to find a spot where he won't bother us.”

“It’s totally a sex bench.”

“Is not.”

Yoongi is too fun to rile up. You'd watched him blush as you and Jungkook had playfully grabbed and swung on the ropes Yoongi was hanging, the heavy thick cotton ones soft to the touch that won’t irritate his loves sensitive skin. testing out the brackets meant for suspension.

Jungkook’s just as giggly and happy when he drags you there now, and your smile is very real pressed to his shoulder. The farthest thing from fake. it might be the first time you've smiled today. Jungkook always makes you feel this way; a little younger, a little bit like you’re sneaking around. That at least feels right.

You're very good at concentrating on the parts of sex that feel good, the parts that you want and not the ones that you don't.

(This morning the others had talked about it with Jungkook. Jimin and Tae had cuddled close to brainstorm. The way they often talk about sex things and pack things. Jimin's snorted honesty still stings.

"I don't know if Yoongi could literally fuck the sadness out of her, but at least it's a suggestion."

Jungkook had felt petulant and whiney, "But why doesn't he just try- if anyone's got a magic just right dick it's him-" Tae had chased Jungkook's disappointment with a kiss.

The truth is; the pack is mostly at a loss with how to help you this time. The most they can do is just stay close and make sure you have everything you need. But lately, not even that has felt like enough. Tae had scrapped her nails down Jungkook's abs, soothing him, with a bit of tingly pain pleasure.

"You're the only one whose bad mood can literally be cured with a good fuck bunny.”)

Yes, Jungkook is trying to make you feel lighter in the only way he knows how right now. But there are different medicines for different hurts for a reason.

Jungkook guides you down to the sex bench, tugging at your shirt a little. Still kissing you. Up close you realize it's actually more of a daybed, styled very attractively with a few throw pillows. One that's more memory foam and sturdy for propping bodies up.

It's no secret how sweet turned on happy Jungkook smells from just a little kissing, just the bare minimum. Jungkook moans- a crocked needy sound, scent pulsing richer in the air. He squirms a little bit, reaching over to one of those shelves. Rummaging in one of the frosted acrylic buckets.

“I’ve had this idea for weeks now that you've taken Joonie’s- fuck- I just- I didn’t know when you’d want to try it but I saw this video online with two omegas and Jin said no but- ha! Here it is!”

You gulp.

The big purple thing is a veritable monster, glittery and double-ended, ridged not like a regular dildo but more like a tentacle. It's about as thick around as your wrist. Namjoon’s a little thicker but still-

it makes fear trickle down your spine, warm and almost bleeding.

Jungkook reads your expression. And the disappointment crests his cheeks, his bunny smile falls, and you feel like you’ve failed already.

At the thought of being filled right now. You feel like you might want to vomit. You try not to have any sort of expression, just a small smile- but fall abysmally short. You’re too tired, too sore, too tight to properly enjoy that.

The idea that your sadness is enough to get in the way of this, what Jungkook so clearly needs is suddenly too much for you to bare. Jungkook needs sex, doesn't he? He needs it to make the seizures feel not quite so damning. He'd told you once- how much he required sex to feel loved. It's his love language right? Isn't this what people always say when they want physical touch?

Who are you to say that your needs are more important than his? You certainly do not love yourself as much as you love him.

Jungkook’s frown is heartbreaking and you easily kiss it away. Making your kisses more eager. You’re a good kisser and a good actor. Your kisses make Jungkook feel all fluttery and hot in the chest, quickly forgetting about the dildo and whatever plans he might have had.

"Just want you- don't want-" words get in the way of kissing, sucking, you mouth at Jungkook's lower lip, making him groan.

Jungkook’s scent gland is a semi-swollen little lump under your teeth as you nibble on it, making him part his legs, grinding up into nothing and letting out a breathless whine. You set yourself across his lap and his big hands quickly fist on your waist pulling you snugly.

You don’t mind this, you really don’t.

It's too routine for you, the first thing that you reach for to avoid saying no. His belt buckle is warm against your palm as you shift so that you can slide to the floor. Pulling your body away from him. he lets out a needy bereft sound. stopping you as you start to tugg at his waistband.

his cheeks are pink, lips red from kisses when you pull back. "I-"

"Let me kiss you here Koo." Let me at least do something. Let me stop feeling so guilty, I know how to fix the guilt even if you don't.

Jungkook catches your chin before you sink to the floor. Jungkook has a hickey on his abs glimmering there just along his hipline. The crop top pulled up to right under his pectorals in a way you know would have the alphas growling and mouthing at his stomach. That's probably how he got the hickey in the first place.

“But you don’t like it.” He says, not quite understanding. Catching your hand as you slide it across his knee.

“I want to try.” You lie, "I-I feel like I’ve lost practice, need to be taught how-” You bat your eyes, looking down and away like you're embarrassed. Just let me do this and make you cum. Just let me get this over with so that we can go back to cuddling and I can feel safer. Jungkook always gets especially cuddly after he's cum too. “I don’t- I don’t do it for the alphas like at all." Your stuttering isn't all faked. You’ve lost practice in a lot of things, but lying clearly isn’t one of them.

“Or Yoongi” Jungkook notes. A little too quickly.

Your heart pulses, Bruised a bit at that. You've never explicitly discussed the abuse you underwent with anyone but Yoongi and Namjoon. You didn't think anyone really noticed how much you don't like giving blowjobs. It's not that you don't want to reciprocate or touch- it's just that once with Geumjae, the choice to reciprocate was taken away from you. The choice to get anything at all was always taken away. It's hard to forget that, to want it again.

You remember his words. He'd always been violent with words before he'd ever gotten violent physically with you. Coercion doesn't feel like it has the same weight compared to that (Hobi would probably argue with you- but his case was different wasn't it?)

"You're so fucking selfish, you could help me in like- 10 minutes but you're choosing not too. We could go back to having a normal fucking evening. I do so much for you and even now when I can't fucking sleep you won't just do this one fucking thing- it's not like I'm asking for much. You're too young, I should have known you wouldn't know how normal relationships function."

It's foolish of you to think that you could be selfish forever. You should get used to this with Jungkook so that it's not so bad with the others later. In case they ever realize how selfish you've been.

“Yeah,” you swallow back a lump in your throat. “But can I? I want to-” You make your eyes wide, biting your tongue hard so that your scent doesn’t go sour.

Jungkook looks like he’s warring with himself for a second but then the hornyness wins out. He pulls his pants down his thighs and you help him, big and muscular as he stands, you on the floor before him. It feels right in a twisted way. See I know my place, see I'm not trying to get away with anything.

Jungkook almost trips when he moves to get a pillow for your knees because he’s not a monster. Namjoon and Jin have taught him well.

Jungkook is not a monster.

If you said no, if you said that you wanted to stop you know he wouldn’t hold it against you. At least not at first, at least not this time. After the 4th or 5th or 10th attempt you know that wouldn't be the case.

Jungkook doesn't even have large enough of a cock for it to feel like a real blowjob. His bunny eyes are wide and eager as you give it a first little kiss. Tentative. You kiss the head again, focusing, dragging your lips up the sides and nuzzling into the skin of his hip, indulging in his scent because at least Jungkook smells nice, smells clean, before you take him into your mouth

Geumjae always smelled a bit like piss. Tasted like it too. At least Jungkook's not like that.

He can be forgiven maybe, for not noticing right away. For not asking if you want this twice. A muted curse falls from his lips instead and he carefully cradles your head. A little startled.

"Fuck- ah-" The muscles of his abdomen tense beneath your touch, startled by the sudden influx of pleasure and the wet tight hot heat of your mouth. "I don't think you need any practice- fuck-"

Omega cock tastes less bitter than alpha cock does. And Jungkook’s dick is honestly so small you can’t even choke on it properly. He doesn’t hit the back of your throat when he rocks it into your mouth. Eking pleasure from the tight seam of your lips.

He doesn’t even hit the back of your throat or engage your gag reflex. So, you wonder why your eyes start watering. One of his hands fists (albeit a little bit too sloppy to be totally gentle) in your hair, using it to keep you stationary while he fucks your mouth. Little rolls of his hips that end in cute, "ah-ah-ah" sounds leaving his lips.

Good, you're doing good. Your nose is buried in his skin. With the little tuft of hair there, Jungkook must have showered at the gym because it doesn't smell like anything. Just breathe.

You know Jungkook doesn't get stimulation to his cock often. The others much prefer to fuck his hole rather than pay attention to it and that works in your favor now because Jungkook's so sensitive. You feel his cock jerk a little, tensing as his abdomen does, flexing up against the pallet of your mouth. Especially when your tongue teases at the head. Finding the ridge of his frenulum and pressing up.

Your lungs sting but you keep your tongue flat, lapping up at the underside, keeping your mouth wet and messy and not swallowing yet. Jungkook's precum tastes a little salty, not as salty as alpha cum would taste like but still not bad. Just a little bit like sweat and a little bit like honey.

Jungkook looks down at you, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead his lips falling slack in pleasure. Hips twitching up, looking debauched and lovely from it already. Pride swells, even as you have to fight back the urge to gag. Quieting the revulsion in your stomach through force of will alone.

You can do this, you don't have to make a big deal over it-

Jungkook tips his head back, closing his eyes, and you're free to shudder unwatched. "Fuck- just like that- you're so good at it, fuck-" You wonder if you get this same wide-eyed subspace look when you’re sad if that’s why he doesn't notice. Your knees burn, hands tighten. One on his hips the other digging into your thigh.

You hear someone outside in the hall and before you have the chance to even think about pulling off they're opening the door. Jimin almost trips, Clearly not expecting to see you on your knees or Jungkook with his legs splayed and shirt rucked up to show his tummy.

You pop off Jungkook’s cock easily, jaw aching already (you really are out of practice) Jimin’s look is all predatory, alpha pheromones bubbling up. One second startled, the next prowling in your direction like a jungle cat.

“Ah pups, getting into trouble? Pups having a treat?”

Jungkook giggles, spreading his knees wider, fingers stroking down your cheek as you catch your breath. Wiping the spit from your lips. “We’re not done yet,” he huffs. You blink up at Jimin and the touch he drops on your head is everything. Soothing your frantic panting. You push up into it, eager for a casually loving touch.

"Wanna make some trouble with us?"

“maybe, think i'd much rather watch" He teases, jutting his chin at Jungkook and settling down next to him, leaning on his chin to watch you as you're urged back to it. You kiss Jungkook's cock again as the alpha guides him into a kiss. Settling his happy-turned-on pheromones into a thick bubble that bursts.

You lap at Jungkook’s cock head, making it messy. Watching the two of them get distracted by kissing, licking into each other’s mouths. Jungkook's hand falls from your hair in favor of cupping Jimin's thigh.

And you below them, an afterthought.

You ignore the longing in your chest and go back to sucking Jungkook off. After a minute or two, Jimin's hand returns to your head, his knuckles rub against your cheek in lazy circles.

It would feel loving any other time but not right now. Not when you're trying to ignore the voice that whispers in the back of your mind that this is all you're good for. On your knees, mouth open. Finally useful. Finally worth the bother of loving. A voice that doesn’t come from any of them but sounds suspiciously like Geumjae's occupying your thoughts.

Jimin's hands are on your head too, rubbing against your cheek. Wiping away a little bit of spit on the corner of your lips. He clearly thinks you're deep in omegaspace. Interpreting your quiet softness for that sweetness and not this devastation. there is always a moment of quiet before a disaster, an intake of breath where everyone braces for impact.

“My good little princess, making your packmate happy, look at you pup,” Jimin croons. Clearly enjoying the pretty picture that you and Jungkook paint.

If anything, it's hearing that old pet name that makes you break. You're fine until you're not.

You're just so tired.

There is wetness on your face and it’s not spit or slobber or cum just tears. Little sniffles. your first one goes un-noticed by them, but not the second or the third. Jungkook freezes. And suddenly the fingers on your cheeks aren’t pulling you closer to Jungkook’s hips but off. Tilting your face. Jimin's hands quickly push Jungkooks away.

Jimin has stoney eyes, his mouth hard and discerning, lips parting. “Pup?” Jungkook’s already got his hand on your arm bunny eyes the soft opposite to Jimin’s. Jimin effortlessly transfers you from the floor to the couch. "Oh pup."

You wipe at your tears stubbornly. “Just one second, just give me a second and then I can keep going I promise, I’m fine- I’m fine” you keep repeating it, keep saying it but you smell so sour-sad. Your pout wobbles hot tears welling up threatening to spill over renewed.

But in what world would they ever let you cry during sex without pre-negotiating? In what world would they let you cry without comforting you?

“I don’t even know why I’m crying but I can't stop-”

No sooner have the words slipped past your lips are they pulling you up from the floor and into their laps, manhandled and small. You fight it a little. but Jimin crushes you to his chest and you sag. t

Jungkook has never gotten less turned on quicker, a packmate's distress takes so much precedence over this. Pulling up his pants. His pleasure isn't even a thought in the back of his mind. You take precedent.

Jungkook thought you knew that.

He feels helpless, helpless as you scrub angrily at your mouth, he uses his sweatshirt sleeve to wipe the saliva and spit from your mouth, then your tears from your cheeks. "Oh fuck- I'm so sorry- fuck I-"

And oh, you're crying into Jimin's chest now, real tears. Sobbing harder.

Jimin glances up and for a second he looks a little angry. He has every right to be angry at Jungkook for this. He's barely been here for like, a minute and a half. But the anger isn't welcome, you're too close to Jimin's scent gland, flinching when he starts to smell sour. Pulling back, so so so terrified, quivering in his lap.

"I'm sorry alpha, just give me a second and I'll get to you too-"

Now Jimin's angry for a whole new reason, angry at people he can't punish, people who are already dead. Jimin feels his anger in his hands. Struggling to stay gentle on you.

Oh fuck that.

Jimin’s fingers pinch at the back of your neck, scruffing you until your scent mellows out a little. "None of that now." He snaps, sharp shifting from concerned packmate to commanding dom effortlessly. "You'll do no such thing. You're going to stay right here until I tell you I'm done holding you."

Jimin's firmness is exactly what you need. You feel his power in his arms, crushing you, restraining you. Jungkook is not a dom, and that has never been clearer than right now. if he was than you would have never gotten into this predicament. "Can't you be good and do what Alpha asks?"

"Yes Alpha" you sob.

Jungkook looks at you guilty, eyes swimming with tears too. He's always been a sympathetic crier but he doesn’t let them spill. Even if Jimin spies them. His lower lip wobbles as he looks at you. Reaching out to hold you too and then snatching his hands back at the last second. If Jimin's touch is your remedy then Jungkook's is surely poison. “Why didn’t you-”

“I just- I just didn’t want to be bad.” You know what they’re about to say, that saying no wouldn’t have been bad but your brain is all terrified of it.

“M’sorry” Jungkook wants to say that there’s nothing you’ve got to apologize for that it’s him that should, but it’s difficult. It’s so difficult when you’re crying so hard it kinda feels like you might pass out. hyperventilating a little. He can do little more than loop his arms around Jimin's waist and trap you between the two of them, sandwiching you. Applying pressure. Holding you tight. In a way that has you instantly plummeting. Down past subspace, past omegaspace, where everything is dark and bland and nothing. Where you're nothing.

“M’sorry Koo-” He doesn’t trust his wobbly voice to speak as you sob out, “Don’t tell them, don’t tell Namjoon and Jin or Yoongi please- don't want them to worry. It’s not Koo's fault it's mine. I’m fine. m' just feeling off. I’ll be better alpha I promise.”

Luckily there is no one home. No one is home to hear any of this. Jimin has always been perilously unable to deny his girls their silly wishes. And if the idea of Namjoon or Jin knowing has you panicking anew then Jimin will take this secret to the grave.

Jimin soothes you with a happy alpha rumble, feeling exactly the opposite- wishing there was Namjoon or Jin to call for backup. This is clearly not normal crying. Jungkook surely couldn't have put you into subspace but somehow you're dropping. Leaning in to every word that graces Jimin's lips like you need the absolution he brings.

“But you’re already so good for us pup- already so good for saying no even though it was hard. Here. Lie out so we can hold you. Here.” It's what you wanted from the beginning someone close by enough to touch enough to cuddle.

Only this time it feels even less like you deserve it.

You make yourself as small as you can. Jungkook and Jimin alternate, kissing off your cheeks. Until you stop crying and fall asleep. Crying yourself back to sleep. You really were just sleep-deprived.

Jimin's got one arm around your waist, another cradling the back of your head. And only once he's absolutely sure that you are completely asleep does he hiss over the top of your head.

"Jungkook What the hell-"

"I asked, you know I asked. She said she was okay I swear-"

A whispered argument ensues, drawn out until the others come home. Their anger quieting at the sound of them, Yoongi softly calls your name. Mindful of the fact you could be sleeping.

When you wake up around dinner time you're non-verbal and pupish. There are too many people around for Jungkook to be able to pull you to the side and ask, to just talk this out. He watches you close at dinner, watches and waits for a chance to talk to you that won't come. You'll pretend you're asleep tomorrow when he wakes, just to avoid it for a little while longer.

If the others notice anything strange with you at dinner time no one broaches it. Of course, you don't speak at all. Answering their questions with shaken heads and careful nuzzles under Tae’s chin where you sit side by side with her. Your chairs pulled together so that they’re more of a bench. She smells so good- so Rosey that you press your face into her shoulder to avoid the other's eyes.

Never mind the fact that you don't smell like anything at all. Maybe you're dissociating too bad to smell like anything. So disconnected from your emotions that you can't feel them let alone smell like them.

After dinner you take an extra long in the shower so that by the time you exit the bathroom Jin has already scruffed Jungkook sleepy. He looks cute too. Pouting in his sleep, restless.

There's an extra soft nesting space carved out just beside him that he made special for you with a few pillows and his favorite nesting things. It will go unused.

That night, you don't bother trying to sleep.

~-~

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!

Upstairs floor plan:

Chapter playlist:

Noah Kahan - Call your mom

Coldplay - Sparks

nick cave and the bad seeds - O' children

Pine Grove- Need too

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hummingbee-lievable · 2 months

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Song of the Day #24:

'Mile Magnificent' by Molly OfGeography (released 2019).

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An apartment when it's empty echoes lovely, bright and clean

Sing odes to green-blue water that we stole so it comes free

All things end, it's part of living; forest fires feed the trees

Lift your glasses full of sunshine, sing a toast to gasoline

Track #4 on 'Myths'.

Fun fact: Molly refers to this song as 'The Song My Producer Said I Was Not Allowed To Name “CHICAGO IS BETTER THAN NEW YORK”'.* Honestly, her descriptions for so of the songs on this album are hilarious:

'1) The Song That Made My Producer Go, “Wait, What Was That Bit About Worms?”

2) The Song My Producer Said I Had To Append A Parenthetical To So That People Would Be Able To Find It Because The Lyrics Never Mention The Title Once But I Was Raised On Fanfiction So Joke’s On You, Pal! I Love A Long Title With A Parenthetical In It!!!

3) The Song That Is Sad'

Pretty dang accurate, honestly. Also, I think she has a Tumblr!!! *Gasp.* What if I...tag her???

@ofgeography Hiiii and thank you, your music is amazing.

I did it bees and knees (yes, this is my hip modern way of including every kind of person, fight me or provide more hilarious options; I'm content with either option).

I have had a fun time perusing this flavourful dose of humanity's wild website and I think my fun fact today should be her story where she becomes a donut god:

You're welcome, singular entity that reads this blog (that entity being my sister and/or the rogue bots, doesn't matter, we're all friends here).

Personal blurb: Alright, full disclosure time: I discovered this artist because of the 'Good Omens' fandom. Someone said we were missing out on feelings and shared this song, and when I tell you I felt those feelings, I certainly don't mean that I danced to this on repeat for several months (and her 'Hanahaki (Bloom)'), often at 3 in the morning in the bathroom. Of course not.

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Pro tip: dancing with your toothbrush in your mouth is a choking hazard, but in the spirit of Alanis Morissette, I recommend doing it anyway:

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One of my favourite books in the world is 'The Overstory' by Richard Powers. In it, one of the themes that arises often is the concept of pyrophitic serotinous plants (it's okay, I won't remember it either). They are plants that need fire to open. (There are actually different types of pyrophitic plants, from passive to fire-activated but I probably shouldn't start talking about that because you'll need to pull out the duct tape.)

(Technically, 'serotinous' plants are a category in which plants release seeds over a longer period of time, and it doesn't matter how they are released, but the seeds that open by fire fit into this category.) The eucalyptus tree, the lodgehole pine, and other trees encase their seeds in resin that can only be melted by fire (thereby releasing the seeds).

The thing that I love about this concept is this: we need to burn to grow. I recently read this book called 'Life in Oil' about the Cofàn tribe in Ecuador who were drastically impacted by oil companies. And the thing was: Yes. They were impacted horribly (physically, psychologically, environmentally, the works). They also survived. They figured out, through tumult and trial and falling apart, how to keep going.

This song screams to me of that same instinct. I mean, look at us. This is what we do, isn't it? We fight, we fall, we continue. We're just like every other aspect of nature in that we are born, and in our fight to continue, we impact everything around us. We're just a part of the cycle and eventually we will decay back to where we belong and serve as soil for our children. And all we'll be? A story. And after a while, not even that. Just a whisper of what was.

In a way? I find that freeing. We might as well live the life we want to live; how little it will matter. (This isn't absolution, please don't go murdering people.) I just mean that I don't have to put so much weight into every little thing. Not everything has to be joyful or depressing (and if we really think about it, everything is always a balance of both). It can just be what it is.

We are as we are. And we don't have to love ourselves for it, but we don't have to hate ourselves either.

I love the lyrics to this song. For a long time, I misheard 'We're animals of love/ the city never makes us beg' as 'the city never makes us pay' and I don't know why? But I kind of like that image.

We are animals of love. And that's okay.

We are the cogs in a continuous cycle and we always will be.

I think often of this monologue (content warning for the video, it's gory, but you don't need to watch it, you can just listen) from 'Midnight Mass' so often, in regards to this:

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We just are. Everything just is.

#Youtube #midnight mass #mike flanagan #the overstory #richard powers #molly ofgeography #good omens #alanis morissette #this got way more existential than i planned #oop #life in oil #cofàn tribe

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spiderispunk · 2 years

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Insatiable

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Smut (18+). Oral Sex (f!receiving). So Many Pet Names. Praise Kink. Dirty Talk. A little smidge of domesticity.

A/N: I blame this one completely on @ussgallifrey reblogging that stupid gif of Glen Powell flipping that goddamn toothpick over and over again until I combusted. Thanks for all the inspiration, my friend. This one’s for you!

If it were up to Hangman, he’d stay between your legs forever.

It was no secret he loved going down on you. Jake loved the way you tasted. Loved the way you felt under his tongue, and all the pretty, wanton sounds you made when he got his mouth on you. He lived for the shake and sigh of your body, and how you pressed your thighs against the sides of his head to hold him in place (not that he was going anywhere anyways).

You were his favorite meal. He wanted you anytime, anywhere.

On the kitchen counter in the morning, when you were still bleary eyed and moved like warm syrup. On the couch during a particularly lazy afternoon, while an innocuous TV show or movie played in the background, long forgotten. After a long day or an operation– though nowadays it was getting harder and harder to tell the difference between the two.

Once he’d even pushed you up against the door of the Hard Deck’s bathroom and hastily shoved your dress up your legs. That was fun. You think back on that night often.

His whispered apologies: I know. I know you’re working, honey, and it’s a bad time. But you look so damn good in that dress and I just have to have you now. Think you can forgive me? The way his green eyes glimmered in the dim light, lips pulled into a smirk, because he knew there was no way you’d tell him no. Not by then, when you could feel the warmth of his breaths against your damp panties. He’d drawn your attention, and your desire, the moment he walked into the door with his friends.

Yeah, Jake “Hangman” Seresin was an insatiable man, but really, you weren’t complaining.

So you’re not surprised to find yourself tossed haphazardly onto the bed, with Jake worming his way between your legs the moment he gets home.

“Jake,” you giggle. “Slow down.”

He grabs your ankles and drags you to the edge of the bed. “Can’t, honey. It’s been too long since I’ve seen you.”

“It’s been 9 days,” you gasp, sliding down the bed.

Jake lifts your leg and kisses your calf. “It’s been too long,” he repeats, a smirk on his face, and a hunger in his eyes.

“You’re so dramatic.” You roll your eyes.

Mischievous eyes lock with yours, lips still dragging up the skin of your leg. “You wound me, baby.” He bites the bend of your inner knee. “Can’t a man miss his wife?”

“Miss his wife, or miss something else?” You lift your eyebrows.

Jake chuckles. “Little bit of both.” He rubs his hands down your thighs. “That a bad thing?”

“‘M not complaining.” You let your legs fall open.

Jake’s gaze darkens. He trails his hand up your inner thigh, fingers hooking into the front of your small sleep shorts.

“Y’know how much I love these things,” he mumbles, his voice all gravel. “Did you wear them for me?”

“Maybe,” you say coyly.

You had. It was quite a gamble on the timing though. You had a ballpark range for how long the operation was supposed to take, but not an exact return date. Thankfully he had come back tonight, because you’d nearly gone through your entire wardrobe of shorts.

Jake runs his fingers up your calf, fingers rubbing circles on your bare skin. “God, I missed ya,” he mumbles under his breath.

Jake looks at you like he’s trying to decide where to start. Slowly, meticulously taking his time. You imagine it was how he got when planning out an operation.

A thousand scenarios play out in his head, and they all end the same, with you coming apart on his cock. Sometimes you’re on your stomach, sometimes you’re on your side. Sometimes you’re a drooling mess, sometimes you come with a whimper. It all ends the same. But how he gets to that point, well, there lies the fun of it all.

He takes you in, gaze roaming your body like fire. His eyes slide down your body, snagging on your shirt bunched up under your breasts, dragged there when he tugged you towards the edge of the bed. His mouth waters at the bare skin of your stomach and hips. With a little luck, in a few minutes you’ll sport twin bruises on your hip bones from his teeth.

His lust-blown gaze lingers on your shorts, and the prize that lies beneath them. He tugs at the waistband of your shorts again, with a thoughtful expression that makes something hot twist inside your core.

“You just gonna stare at me all day?” You bite your bottom lip.

Jake chuckles. “Oh no, honey. I’m just trying to figure out where to start.”

“How about like this?” You twist your fingers into the bottom of his shirt and pull him down on top of you.

He leans over you, supporting his weight on his elbows. “Like this?” His fingertips stroke your cheek.

Your eyes flit down to his lips, mouth going dry. “Uh huh.”

Jake closes the distance, brushing his lips over yours. What starts as an innocent kiss quickly turns hungry when he slips his tongue past the seam of your lips. You can taste the faintest hint of the spearmint gum he chews, and the coffee he must have drunk to stay awake on the drive home.

He gently lays the rest of his weight on top of you, molding his body to yours. You arch into the solid mass of his warm chest, feeling anchored there when his arms snake around you. On instinct, you wrap your legs around his waist, using the leverage to grind your hips against his.

Jake sucks in a breath. One of his hands slides down your back to grasp at your ass, sealing you to him as you slide into a clumsy rhythm. Your lips part, and your warm, dewy breaths fan over Jake’s face. Your soft whimpers, and Jake’s hungry grunts fill the room. It’s desperate and messy, and Jake thinks he might come in his pants then and there like a goddamn teenager.

With great effort, he unlocks your thighs from his waist, and puts a little space between the two of you.

Your kiss-swollen lips twist into a pout.

“Sorry, baby.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “Wouldn’t want this to be over too soon, now would we?”

Before you can dwell on the loss of friction, Jake’s lips are on the move, tracing a searing path across your jaw and down your neck. His teeth nip at your pulse, tongue laving afterwards to soothe the sting. A breathy whine falls from your lips when he stretches the collar of your shirt to kiss your chest.

He continues his downward trek, pausing only for a moment to leave wet kisses on each of your peaked nipples. Your stomach receives his attention next– gentle kisses and bites that make it flutter. Hangman reaches your hips, and makes good on his mental promise to leave marks. By the time he pulls away to survey his handiwork, you’re a whimpering, sticky mess.��

Two perfect bruises in the crescent shape of his teeth. He kisses them gently, and tugs down your shorts.

You are embarrassingly aware of how turned on you are. Your panties stick to the damp folds of your cunt. They literally peel away under his touch.

“Goddamn,” Jake mutters, total reverence in his voice. “All this for me?” He asks, running the tip of his finger over your dripping cunt.

“Y-yes.” You nod.

He sucks his finger into his mouth. “Attagirl.” His eyes flutter shut, and when they open again, they’re nearly black.

The way he watches you is obscene. It makes your skin hot, and your cunt somehow wetter. It’s too much, this desire that grows within you. And all Jake is doing is watching, as if he wants to goad you into action.

You close your legs, rubbing your thighs together for some friction, and Jake shakes his head sharply.

“No.” He clicks his tongue. “None of that.” He kneels in front of you and throws your legs over his shoulder. “Let me look at ya, honey. Just wanna appreciate ya, is all. God, you’re so fucking beautiful. Look at you just dripping for me.” There’s an edge of admiration in his tone.

Jake keeps you on edge with teasing touches. The skate of his fingertips up your inner thigh. The brush of his lips against the bend of your knee. Over and over again, until you can’t take it anymore.

“What do you want, baby?” He asks, with a shiteating smirk on his face. “Talk to me.”

“You know.”

“I do.” Jake tips you a wink. “I just wanna hear you say it.”

You glare at him petulantly.

“C’mon, baby. Use that pretty mouth of yours and tell me what you want.” He leans forward and kisses the crux of your inner thigh.

“Iwantyourmouth.” You whisper, the words running together until they’re barely recognizable.

Jake tilts his head to the side. “I’m sorry. I didn’t quite catch that.”

You roll your eyes. “You heard me.”

“I’m afraid not, pretty girl. Must be all the time I spend around those jet engines.”

“I said–” The words nearly come out in a whine. “I want your mouth.”

“There we go. That wasn’t so bad,” Jake praises. His lips resume their pilgrimage up your inner thigh, tongue sweeping out to taste your skin.

When his mouth finally touches your clit, you jump. It’s heaven. The warmth of his lips wrap around you. He slurps at you messily, spit and slick mixing in a shine that covers his chin. He savors the taste of you, the one that drives him wild, the one he dreams about when he’s away. He can’t get enough of you. His tongue swirls over you feverishly, hungrily, determined not to let a bit of you go to waste.

Above him, you shudder and shake. Hips lifting to meet his frenzied mouth. His name, among other expletives, falls from your lips. You’re really just babbling at this point, speaking just to speak. Mixing praises with pleas. The sensations feel too good to put into words.

Jake pushes your legs back, nearly folding you in half. Holding you still as his mouth works you over. One of his hands travels up your body, and two fingers prod at your lips. You suck them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digits.

His lips pop off your clit just for a moment to say “Good girl.” You clench around nothing and gush all over his chin.

You don’t stay empty for long. Those two long fingers leave your lips and fill your cunt. Slowly at first, and then build into a steady rhythm. The curl of his fingers inside you has you seeing stars, reaching places you can’t even hope to find on your own. Each thrust brings another wave of pleasure, throwing you closer and closer to the edge. Your toes curl, your heart hammers your breath stutters, and Jake continues consistent through it all.

“Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart.” Jake groans. “Feel so fucking good wrapped around my fingers. Squeezing ‘em so tight. Can’t wait to fuck you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. That bright beautiful thing builds inside you, and you lurch towards it hungrily, eagerly. Pleading for it to overtake you in its all-consuming glory.

He knows you’re close. Call it intuition, call it the knowledge that comes with prolonged intimacy. Whatever it is, he knows, and he wants it.

“You gonna come?” He mumbles, drunk on you.

You nod. “Uh huh.”

“That’s it. Come, baby. Whenever you’re ready,” he coaxes. “Wanna taste you. Want to so bad.”

Jake doubles down on his efforts. Fingers and tongue never stopping their glorious assault. Your body seizes under his touch, ratcheting tighter and tighter until you break. You gasp for air, chest heaving as the dam breaks.

You’re vaguely aware that you’re sobbing Jake’s name. At least you think you are– you’re so far gone that you could be saying anything. The broken syllables shatter off of the walls, each one going straight to Jake’s cock.

“There’s my girl, there she is.”

“Jake.”

“I know, baby, I know. Give it to me. That’s a good girl. Fuck you’re so beautiful.”

Though your body goes limp, Jake stays in place. That insatiable urge within him driving him to lick you clean. He gladly takes everything you offer and then some. Even after your consciousness finally slams back into your body, and you’re able to suck down a lungful of sweet air. Even after you try to wiggle away from him. Even after you whimper with sensitivity. Even after he somehow manages to pull a second, albeit smaller, orgasm from you.

A last sharp tug to his hair and a shudder has him pulling away with a sated smile. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand. You notice his eyes are back to their usual green. The beast must have finally been tamed.

Jake crawls his way up your body, settling on top of you once more.

You roll your head to the side and fix him with a grin.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting tired on me,” he mumbles, kissing the sensitive skin of your throat. “We’re just getting started.”

“Whose fault is it for wearing me out?” You twist your fingers through his hair and scratch at his scalp.

Jake hums, leaning into your touch. “Gotta build up your endurance again.”

“How are you planning to do that?” You raise an eyebrow.

Jake meets your eyes, that signature glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he mumbles, kissing along your jaw.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.” His lips tickle your skin as he whispers his salacious plan in your ear.

Let’s just say you were in for a very long, very pleasurable, night.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman x reader #jake seresin fanfic #hangman fanfic #top gun maverick #i literally wrote this like a person possessed holy shit

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thisapplepielife · 3 months

Text

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Full Throttle

Day #1 - Prompt: Firsts | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Sex Acts, Bit of Exhibitionist Kink, Language | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Newly Gotten Together Steddie, Semi-Public Sexual Acts, Touch Me While Your Bros Play Grand Theft Auto Super Nintendo, The Boys of Corroded Coffin Are Tired of Eddie's Horny Bullshit

This has a sister fic, Scout's Honor, from Goodie's (Freak) POV. Either can be read standalone.

Steve pulls up in front of the little apartment, more of a duplex, really, and grabs his bag out of the backseat of his car. Eddie blew back into Hawkins a few months ago, and the sparks they've been throwing back and forth at each other since the spring of '86, finally caught fucking fire.

It would have been more convenient for this to have happened that first summer after Vecna, or any time in the two years it took for Gareth to grow up and graduate, Eddie bumming around town with Steve. Friends, spending time together, hanging out, but never acting on what Steve's pretty fucking sure they both felt.

That he felt, anyway.

He wishes it would have happened before Eddie packed up and left town with Corroded Coffin.

Or, before Steve finally bought a house and settled down. Got a real job. And starting building a life for himself, even if he didn't have anyone to share it with yet.

Eddie would call, would send funny postcards from the road, and Steve was happy for him. Sure that if something was ever gonna happen between them, it would have years ago.

But it didn't.

And he'd made peace that that ship had passed, just like all the others in Steve's dismal love life.

But then Eddie came back, their guards down, and, well. Here they are.

"Hey," Eddie says, letting him in the door of the apartment, and the rest of the band is shouting, fighting over what appears to be a Nintendo. Steve pauses to watch Jeff running Luigi through the game, before falling to his death, Goodie cackling as it becomes his turn. Gareth hovering over the back of both of them, just waiting for his go.

Eddie ushers Steve to the couch, and Steve sits beside him, before Eddie tugs on him, getting him to slide onto his lap. Kissing, touching, saying hello, and I missed you. Roaming hands, and whispered confessions of love and lust.

Now, they're on the couch of this shitty little apartment the band is hardly ever in, hands running up Steve's thighs, over his hips and back down again, all too much. Eddie's rings brushing against bare skin where his shorts don't cover. And Steve grinds back down, even with Eddie's friends right over there playing video games. He can't help it. He feels drunk on being with Eddie, since they first started this thing.

Steve hasn't felt like this about anyone since high school, and he watches intently as Eddie holds his hands in front of his crotch, and starts removing the rings off his right hand. Then he shoves them down in Steve's short's pocket, before he's digging in the couch cushion, pulling out a tube of K-Y, and Steve's dick is so goddamn hard.

Steve swallows, Eddie's cupping his ass in his shorts, squeezing, fingers dancing beneath the elastic waistband.

Then, his fingers are fully sliding down the back of Steve's shorts, into his underwear, worming their way to his crack, and he runs a finger up and down, just feeling him out, teasing him, before easing the first one in, up to the knuckle.

"Can you be quiet, sweetheart?" Eddie whispers, and Steve nods. He isn't sure that's true, but he'll damn well try. First time for everything, he supposes.

The rest of Corroded Coffin are screaming and fighting over the game, shoving, wrestling over the controllers, and Steve closes his eyes and tries to block the sound of them out, just feeling Eddie, and the insane rush of doing this out in the open.

He didn't realize he was an exhibionist until Eddie Munson started dragging him ass first out into the light.

"Look at you," Eddie whispers in his ear.

Steve feels hot, overheated, as Eddie moves from one finger, to two, and onto three. He's so full, split wide on Eddie's fingers.

Steve stifles his sigh, and grinds down on Eddie's hand.

He needs to be fucked. Right now. This is good, but it's just the start of what he wants. The first course. Everything about Eddie is just the start of what he wants, this love they've found. At first tentative, unsure, but they've both easily kicked it into high gear, full throttle. Either it's gonna last, be forever, or crash and burn, destroying them both.

Eddie's on the road, trying to make a go with Corroded Coffin, and Steve wants that for him, but Steve wants Eddie to himself, too. Wants to just crawl into a bed with him somewhere, and never come out again.

Fuck the whole rest of the world.

Fingertips brush against this prostate and Steve whines before he can stop himself, and Eddie chuckles, his face pressed into Steve's shirt.

It can't be comfortable on his hand, but Steve's learned that Eddie will do anything to get him off, like it's his main goal in life these days.

Steve keeps his eyes squeezed shut, and grinds down on his hand, as subtle as he can, so he doesn't draw too much attention to what they're doing.

"Jesus Fucking Christ, not again," Gareth says, low and annoyed, and Steve knows they're caught. Knows there are eyes on his ass.

"Eddie!" Goodie yells, and Steve jumps, accidentally shoving Eddie's fingers deeper, while Eddie just fucking laughs. Steve slides off his fingers, feeling their absence immediately, and heads to the bathroom, hoping Eddie will follow, so they can continue this in private.

Hiding in the bathroom. He's not embarrassed, not really. It's not like he wants a hole in the ground to swallow him up. Been there, done that, and he'd prefer to never see a gate again, thanks ever so much. He probably should be embarrassed, but he only feels like a teenager all over again, and not a grown-ass man.

He's twenty-four. He has a mortgage. A job.

And a hot boyfriend willing to stick three fingers in his ass, in a room full of his friends.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: This is inspired by Taylor's Swift song So High School. Steve knows how to ball, Eddie knows Aristotle. I don't make the rules.

Read Goodie's POV on this situation in Scout's Honor.

#corrodedcoffinfest #prompt one: firsts #steve harrington #eddie munson #goodie (unnamed freak) stranger things #freak stranger things #gareth stranger things #jeff stranger things #steddie fic #corroded coffin fic #ccf day one: firsts #thisapplepielife: corrodedcoffinfest #thisapplepielife: short fic

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fandomfluffandfuck · 8 months

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thinkin’ about Bucky who is freshly released from HYDRA, still wary and a little bit feral. He doesn’t know how to manage himself and his new freedom, and neither does Steve.

But they both know that the only person they really feel comfortable around is each other.

Bucky curls tight into Steve at night, under blankets and as close to Steve as possible. Steve holds him like it’s his only job in the world, because to him it is. He holds Bucky’s waist and calls him a good boy, says he’s so loved and so safe. Bucky practically purrs, and responds in a litany of languages.

“Мой. Мой Стиви.” he’ll whisper, and Steve will press a kiss to his nose or forehead and Bucky will melt further into him.

He doesn’t go outside of the apartment much. Being tortured by a secret agency for 90 years will give anyone agoraphobia. So Bucky sticks to Steve’s side at all times, and Steve is more than happy to shower his sweet angel with all the love and affection he has in him.

So it’s not unusual when Steve will be working on the couch and Bucky will come up with a blanket draped over him and a tired look on his face. Steve will just set his work aside, open up his arms, and hold his perfect boy until he falls asleep. He’s had to learn a bit of Russian to be able to understand his baby, especially when he’s really tired.

“Можем ли мы посмотреть шоу о природе?” Bucky will ask, and even if it takes Steve a minute to understand, he’ll nod and turn on the nature documentary.

It’s progress when Steve comes home to find fresh cookies on the counter, and a proud Bucky sitting on the couch.

“Did you make these, Bucky?” Steve will smile, and Bucky will nod happily.

Steve will lean down and kiss him and Bucky will purr and smile brighter than Steve’s seen since he left HYDRA.

And it’s even more progress when Bucky calls Steve on a Wednesday afternoon, and starts rambling in quick Russian (or is it Ukrainian? Steve has a hard time telling sometimes) and Steve has to tell him to slow down.

That’s when Steve learns that Bucky went on a walk today with the service dog provided by SHIELD. All by himself. Steve quickly excuses himself from the building and runs home to shower his darling in praise and cuddles because he is so goddamn proud of him.

Bucky giggles and kisses back, and Steve is totally not crying because he’s getting his best guy back.

That’s all!! Just wanted to share my silly stucky thoughts with you!

Google translated, take with a grain of salt, lol:

"Мой. Мой Стиви." My, my Stevie "Можем ли мы посмотреть шоу о природе?" Can we watch a nature show?

S O B B I N G

Feral Bucky is the fucking worst because he rips my heart out but also the fucking best because there's just...

🤌🏻something about him🤌🏻

So damaged and broken yet so innocent and sweet, too. Burdened by so much but not by social norms. You know. You understand. Clearly.

Feral Bucky, who struggles with words but is especially physical and needy in that way, lives in the deepest parts of my soul. It worms its way into my brain and makes me feral. Words are hard, but touch is easy--when it's Steve, touch is easy.

This is beautiful. Thank you. I love this. I hold it very close to my chest.

#asks #alamiono #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #anon provided writing #sillysickly

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fruitsoxs · 1 year

Text

Having Vash and Wolfwood as roommates would include;;

warnings;; i don't define a relationship, but it kinda hints at all three of you being together, lots of fluff, nothing nsfw (but I'm thinking about doing some nsfw headcanons for this in the future if anyone is interested)

How it happens/Meeting Vash

You’re basically desperate when your plans for moving in with your ex best friend fall through, leaving you basically homeless right before the semester is about to start

Looking online, in the newspaper even, you’re searching for any place that doesn’t look scummy, creepy, or charges you up the ass

Knowing full well that living without roommates in this economy is impossible, you’re hoping to find some nice people-

And boy do you luck out

Posted on some stupid roommate finder website is an add for a three bedroom apartment that’s in a sort of sketchy part of town, but offers protection for anyone willing to brave it. The guy that posted it seems nice, the ad is kinda funny, and the rent is cheap

You decide to try it out

When you first meet Vash, it’s in a little coffee shop near the uni you’re attending. It’s a safe spot to meet with a stranger, and he was cool with whatever you suggested. Green flag.

He’s pretty nice, funny, and insanely cute. He tells you that the other roommate, a man he calls “Nicholas” is at work, but from the way Vash talks about him you assume he’s a chill dude too

You can’t help but feel a bit intimidated by how attractive Vash is. He’s blonde, with a cute little mole, and his eyes are like…woah

Plus he’s got a cute little piercing !!!

No guy this good looking should be this nice

You decide pretty quickly this feels like a good match, and bam the deed is done

You move in next week, get your stuff situated and suddenly you have two new roommates

Meeting Wolfwood

It’s almost disappointing how little you see of the other roommate in the first week. Vash explains that he’s been taking on extra shifts at work but you still kinda feel like maybe the man is avoiding you?

All you know of the man is that he smokes, drinks a little, and has weird taste in movies

You see random objects strewn across the house that belong to him and you start trying to figure out his personality in your head

You decide that he’s probably some skinny stoner, and you’re pretty confident in that hypothesis until you actually see him

You bump into him in the morning right before you head off to start your first day of class

You literally bump into him-

As he’s leaving the bathroom, you’re in the hallways and a collision occurs. To make matters worse he’s shirtless

And he’s hot

He’s wearing sweatpants, his toned torso out in the open, and his hair is a bit of a mess. You can tell it’s sort of a short wolf-cut though- and it’s definitely working on him

He kinda smirks down at you and says it’s nice to finally “run” into you

And fuck- how are you supposed to survive having TWO hot roomates

General Chaos

You find out pretty quickly that these two are not the most normal people

And you freaking love it

Once Wolfwood’s insane work schedule chills out, you finally get chance to see the duo in action

They kind act like an old married couple. It’s a bit scary at first, and you fear you might be third wheeling but you soon mix into their dynamic quite nicely

Once wolfwood starts calling you some funky nickname you know you’ve wormed your way into their hearts

Your schedules all clash a bit, but you all find time to see each other throughout the day. Wolfwood has a morning class like you, and so you end up eating breakfast together most days. You start taking turns making food for each other

No matter what you both at least drink an entire pot of coffee together, and complain about life

Vash and you meet up in the afternoon, since your afternoon classes are close to each other. He’s the one who texts you the first time to ask if you want to meet up- and your heart does a little flip

It has become a habit. Whenever you two aren’t busy with other things, you’ll sit outside on a grassy area and talk for a second

All three of you hang out at night when Wolfwood isn’t working insane night shifts

Saturdays are movie nights. You HAVE to attend movie nights

It gets crazy. Especially when Wolfwood graciously shares his stuff.

The first time they see you cry- you’re pretty sure they might explode

You’re stressed from school, whatever job you might have, and probably a few family problems too. Vash walks in to your room to ask you what you want for dinner, sees the tears and whips out his phone to tell Wolfwood

He then immediately rolls you up in a blanket and makes you cuddle him on the couch to destress.

He’s insanely patient with you, rubbing your back and letting you vent

Wolfwood kicks open the door with your favorite comfort food moments later, and the three of you sit and watch a stupid movie

Wolfwood keeps his arm around you, and lets you rest your head on his chest

Vash’s hand is in yours

They’re pretty respectful of your privacy at first- but they’re both like the clingiest friends ever

Vash doesn’t mean to- and will apologize if he oversteps boundaries

Wolfwood on the other hand just doesn’t care. He’ll waltz into your room and go “Hey- stop screaming- I need you to make sure I got this math correct.”

Crazy competitive game nights, that sometimes end in you pulling Wolfwood off of Vash as Vash screams for his life to be spared (he like staking stars from Wolfwood in mario party) (It ends in bloodshed every time) (He should really stop)

Grocery shopping is just Wolfwood acting like a dad while you and Vash are off shoveling sweets into the cart (He secretly puts his favorite treats in the cart too though)

You and Vash stage an intervention for Wolfwood when he gets a little bit too into buying random jewelry covered in crosses (“we know you have religious trauma- and yes you look good in them- but come on-”). He walks into the apartment, sees the sign, and then walks out

Vash invites his brother over once and you’re pretty sure you’re about to be cut. (“No Vash- Knives is nice…he’s just scary.” “He just has a resting “I want to murder” you face!”)

Feelings bloom?

They really warm up to you. One day it becomes clear that you’re just…part of them now. Like they can’t imagine you ever leaving their side

It’s the same for you. You walk out one day, and grab your mug of coffee from Wolfwood and…you just kinda spot and think that you really like these guys. Things feel right

I think overtime things just slowly get intimate-

like you start holding Vash’s hand just casually throughout the day

And sometimes Wolfwood will come rest his head on your shoulder from behind, and you’ll reach up and run your hand through his hair

Casual soft touches just become a thing you know?

Vash lets his hand rise under your shirt a bit when you’re sitting with him on the couch

And eventually…maybe they become less casual?

Wolfwood puts his hand on your waist as he passes by behind you

The sexual tension is like palpable

I don’t really know who finally kisses who- or how things go from wholesome to spicy- but it gets there eventually

And soon you three are more than just roommates, more than friends, and even if you don’t know what it is- it’s kinda perfect

You renew the lease for the next year, and you’re pretty damn happy you were homeless for that little bit now

#wolfwood x reader #nicholas d wolfwood x reader #vash x reader #vash the stampede x reader #trigun x reader #wolfwood headcanons #vash headcanons

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sarahowritesostucky · 8 months

Text

Favorite Kinks: Lloyd

Okay, well Lloyd's main thing in life that he gets off on is hurting other people. And this doesn't change just cause it's you who he's in the bedroom with.

He loves to "destroy" a beautiful girl (aka: you)

So he loves it when you start out real dolled up and pristine (hair, makeup, lingerie, etc.) so that by the end he can see what a mess he's made of you.

Lloyd is a sadist: part physical -- but more-so emotional

He's all about teasing you and tormenting you

He likes making you feel threatened: like maybe, just maybe, you really are in danger. He likes hearing your breath hitch, making your heartbeat quicken, and watching your pupils dilate in fear.

So he's very big into gunplay and knifeplay.

You were hesitant about these activities at first. But Lloyd has opened a whole new can of kinky worms inside of you--he's exposed a dark side you never knew you had.

He love restraints, though he's often too impatient to actually get them and use them (unless he's planned to edge you for a while).

And, oh, is he ever a huge fan of edging you, making you squirm and beg and cry.

Making sure you cry is almost as important to him as making sure you cum. (He always says his climax really happens when that first tear falls.)

He'll degrade the hell out of you, but he puts his own style on it.

He'll be sweet and mocking at the same time, calling you "dumb" and "desperate" and "pretty" and "cupcake" all in the same sentence ...

... while he's got the Hitachi out, forcing orgasms from you until you're begging to stop.

His favorite position is on top of you in one way shape or form--

--usually with him kneeing back a little bit while he's between your legs, taking you--

--and you on your back, facing him, because he loves to choke you, smack your cheek, and be able to watch your face as you fall apart.

Oh, did I mention he prefers to cum on your face?

And his one fantasy that he hasn't yet confided/fulfilled?--He wants to have a gang bang with you and all five daddies.

SugarBaby Series: Imagines masterpost for all five Daddies

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spicyseonghwas · 1 year

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chocolate stash - jung wooyoung

pairing :: jung wooyoung x male reader genres :: fluff, angst, fluffy suggestive au's :: bf!wooyoung, established relationship viewer rating :: 15+ content warnings :: light cursing, nightmares, all nighter, food mentions, kissing, spiders, arachnophobia, crying, an all-nighter, pet names (baby, darling, woo boo, my prince) word count :: 894 credits :: divider - @cafekitsune networks :: @preciousillusions-net @timenote-library @cacaokpop-fics

your sleeping form tossed and turned in bed as you whimpered and sobbed in your sleep; the only soul who knew exactly the horrors you were experiencing was wooyoung's poor thing who was experiencing it.

wooyoung opened the door, being as quiet as he possibly could as he stepped into the hallway. the toe of his shoe hit the bottom corner of the apartment door as he stepped around it, and he involuntarily inhaled, his spine shaking in a pained cringe.

wooyoung's hand drifted up to cover his mouth as he let loose a wide yawn. he put his hand on the door knob, but before he could turn it and enter the room, he heard your sleeping cries for wooyoung's. he heard you begging desperately for... someone or something not to hurt you, and the sound of that made his heart fall and shatter. wooyoung hurried into the room, dropping his things on the floor next to the bed as he crawled up over you and lay down at your side.

“hey,” he whispered, scooting closer to you and began to gently run his fingers through your hair, leaving little butterfly kisses on your neck, face and the tip of your nose as he pulled you as close to his chest as he could get you.

“baby, wake up, it’s just a nightmare,” he whispered into your hair, hugging you tight and biting his bottom lip as he tried to hold back from crying himself.

wooyoung's resolve didn’t last long however, crumbling to pieces when you sobbed into his chest and began to scream. he squeezed his eyes shut and bit down harder on his lip as he felt the first tears roll down the side of his face and across the bridge of his nose.

“m-m/n, wake up, please...” he whimpered, unconsciously pulling you closer to him as he hid his face in your hair. “m/n, it’s j-just a nightmare, baby, wake up, please...”

You continued to sob and plead into wooyoung's chest, and for the longest time he just cried with you. But when he heard one particular word slip from your lips, he finally understood the horrors you were experiencing.

spiders.

you were afraid of spiders. that was what was plaguing your minimal hours of rest --- you had texted him about four hours ago that you were going to bed after a two-day all-nighter working on an essay for one of the core classes you were taking for your psychology major.

wooyoung let out a shaky breath he hadn’t known he was holding, squeezing you even tighter if possible as hot, salty tears continued to spill down the side of his face and into your hair. his hand strayed up to the back of your head, and he gently pressed you impossibly closer.

soon enough, your sleeping sobs and pleads faded away, melting into the silence. wooyoung's tears soon stopped coming as well and, not knowing what to do or say, he simply continued to cuddle you, hugging you as tight as he could, fearing that you would just melt away.

the two of you just laid there that way for a while, not exchanging words for what could have been hours before he felt an arm slowly worm under his side as you exhaustedly wrapped your arms around him. a smile forced its way through wooyoung's cracked and crumbling defenses, and he took a soft hold of your chin between his thumb and pointer finger as he leaned in and let his lips touch yours.

“are you alright, my darling?” he asked, unable to get out anything more than a whisper as he tried desperately to control his heart and beat back the tears.

“n-no, not r-really...” you whimpered, nuzzling into the center of his chest as you tried your best not to start crying again.

wooyoung really didn’t wanna say it, but it was clear at this point that it needed to be said. he knew you needed to hear it, so with difficulty and a deep breath, he forced himself to say,

“You gotta stop doing this, m/n.”

“doing what...?” you asked, unhiding yourself and looking up at him through your still-wet lashes.

“skipping the second half of your blasted written communications class and staying up all night doing work that you should have had done in class.”

“but --- don’t wannaaa...” you whined.

“i don't give a flying fuck m/n, it’s bad for you!” pouted wooyoung, giving you his signature angy puppy eyes. you being in the soft, emotionally fragile state you were in, easily caved.

“fine.” you sighed dramatically, giving him a cute, weak pout. “i promise i’ll stay the whole class.”

“aaand?”

“HUUUUUUUGHH, FIIIIINE,” you groaned, letting go of wooyoung and flopping onto your back under the thick blankets that adorned the bed. “and i promise i won't pull allnighters anymore, and i'll do all my work in class."

wooyoung let himself smile, finally at ease.

“good...” he murmured, pressing another kiss onto your lips before pulling you back into his arms.

“i love you, woo boo.”

“i love you too, my prince.”

“can I have some chocolate?” you asked, giving wooyoung your own puppy eyes.

“no, absolutely not!” he giggled, “you cannot get into my chocolate stash right after a nightmare!”

you huffed and pouted, your eyebrows wrinkling in mock anger.

“hmph.” you puffed, putting your face back into his chest.

#chaece.exe 🌑#(there will be member tags in the tag no.2 position soon)#ateez #wooyoung #jung wooyoung #ateez x male reader #wooyoung x male reader #male idol x male reader #jung wooyoung x male reader #ateez x male reader fluff #ateez angst #wooyoung angst #ateez x male reader angst #kpop x male reader #lgbtq #kpop x lgbt #8 makes 1 team

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tripleglitchwriting · 9 months

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Ignition (Part 3)

Gn human reader, Ratchet-centric

We are slowly clawing our way out of the angst, folks.

CW: Miscommunication, mild language, getting burned by water graphically, referring to a person as “it” (unintentionally), injury, anxiety thoughts about awful things happening, a little fearplay

You recounted the last couple hours in your head. Most, if not all of your memories were either fuzzy or painful, and right now you weren’t making many good ones. You’d ended up shrouded in darkness longer than you’d really expected, though to be fair you expected to be dead by now. At some point the giant opened up its hand for a second and grabbed some sort of metal tool before putting it somewhere you couldn’t see, then immediately shut you off from the world again and walked off. At that point you’d been hoping it was just a really vivid nightmare, the world having been dark for so long. Too bad nothing good ever happens to you.

Deeper into the forest you went- you assumed it was still the forest from the sounds of trees being snapped like twigs- and thoughts of horrible things that could happen next latched onto your conscious mind. Getting torn apart limb from limb, getting chopped up, ending up crushed, being played with like a toy, getting eaten? Though, if it wanted to this thing could have done it already… so why was it taking you so far away?

Unfortunately, you got your answer. The next time it removed the hand blocking out the light you were greeted with the sight of a creek. It was quaint and nice, you would have loved to sit there for a while if you weren’t being kidnapped by a giant robot with unknown intentions. It set you down on the forest floor, not noticing your grimace as your leg hit the ground in an awkward way, sending waves of pain up your body. Really, the thing seemed to be ignoring you. For now, at least, as it started doing something near the creek. It knew you couldn’t get away so it just… left you there. Oh how you wished you could prove it wrong.

A sour feeling wormed its way into your gut. You pushed it down in favor of something sweeter. Up above were the extravagant, warm colors of the autumn leaves. It was always a nice season, at least where you were geographically. Now the sun was just dipping down past the horizon, saying it’s goodbye by taking the colors of day with it. You spent a bit watching it, reminiscing on days you couldn’t quite remember and nights spent stargazing rather than sleeping. Unfortunately while you daydreamed something crucial happened, or what you assumed was crucial, because the titian seemed to be building something.

It began to put together what you could only understand as a makeshift container. A bowl or a tub, big enough for both of its hands to fit comfortably in. It welded together metal with a blowtorch, which was absolutely another thing you had to worry about, but what was more terrifying was what it did when it finished the bowl. It filled it up with water. And started a controlled fire to heat it. Like a camper heating up cold food. A shiver ran up your spine as you thought about what the food could be in this situation.

When it turned back to you, you tried to scoot back again, but it was in vain. It used a smaller container, made of the same metal if you had to guess, to take some of the boiling water. Cold, unmoving eyes beamed down on you like headlights. Suddenly, you knew how the deer felt.

You shook and begged for it to stay away, only earning you an insultingly pitying look before emptying the cup over your neck and collarbone. It was searing. You screamed, of course, and kicked and struggled and did everything in your limited power to stop it. To your surprise, after a second it did. You could still feel the heat stabbing into your skin, but no more water came. Instead it made a noise akin to a gasp and hesitantly reached out before retracting its arm and turning away. At that point the curtain of night begun had fall over the forest, the only illumination being the rising moon and your giant captors eyes.

While it was otherwise occupied, the adrenaline started to wear off once again. You were very confused about what just took place and why it wasn’t still happening, but you sure as hell weren’t arguing with it. Pain from your old injury and your new burn took hold, and with the deafening silence of the world around you (save for some mechanical clicks and whirrs from the giant) you could only focus on your body’s demands for comfort. And comfort did come, because your vision began to burr and your mind went blank.

…

You weren’t out for long. Or you assumed as much, as when you woke you were in the same position as before. With one key difference. It was looking right at you. Again you preformed your old routine of screaming and failing to get away, but when you finished you noticed something. You were still in a lot of pain… but you felt lighter.

After a glance down, the realization dawned on you that the dirt and dried blood covering your form was gone. Well, not gone, but at least cleaned. As far as you knew no magical fairy did a mediocre job at fixing you up (not that you would be surprised if it did at this point), so that would leave the giant as the culprit.

Why?

Was it trying to clean you up before it ate you or something? You figured it would have done that already instead of waiting for you to wake up… unless you got really unlucky by getting captured by a sadistic giant robot. Though… this one really didn’t seem the type. It did hurt you with the water, and handled you a bit too rough for your taste, but for something its size the handling seemed like an inevitability rather than an intentional attack. And the water, the burning still hurt like hell but when it saw you in pain it stopped. That cup had more water in it, it could have dumped the whole thing on you- yet it didn’t. And here you were, wounds cleaned up with what could only be water. Cold water. Purposefully cooled water.

You weren’t one to jump to conclusions. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, maybe you were just going insane. You still couldn’t trust it, you still needed to get out.

Yet there was a part of you that wanted to believe the giant was good. It wasn’t the one that broke your leg or made you trip down that cliff. It just found you. And now your life is literally in its hands.

A question formed in the back of your mind. Well, maybe reappeared rather than formed. After the initial shock of seeing it, you’d forgotten all about what you really wanted to know. Above all else, all your other burning inquiries, one made it out of your mouth as you looked into its eyes without fear for the first time.

“What are you?”

————————

What a strange sound. It made rounded and soft noises, a staggering departure from Ratchet’s own language. Whatever it was, this call was distinctly different from the others he’d heard it make before. Earlier they had been shrill and quick, but now it was slow and even… careful. Like a question not expecting an answer.

And the sound happened right after it looked itself over and realized it was clean. Just how sentient was this thing? Thinking about it now, that fabric it wore didn’t seem like the thing grew it itself. It was a covering, a weaving, something taken from another creature and made into cloth.

Memories resurfaced and demanded his attention; memories of its body language, its spoken language, its… no, no not it… they.

Wait, no, that was a wild Leo to conclusions, right? He’d found them- it- severely injured in its own territory, what sentient creature would cause that to happen to themself? Then again, stranger things had happened. He’d seen stranger things happen. Accidents were a factor was well, he would know, and he hadn’t even seen what else was on this planet. Maybe it was more than a random backwater mudball.

Then he remembered something very important. It wasn’t very important at the time he got it, but now it could be the defining factor in interacting with an entirely new species. Wheeljack’s experimental translator. Experimental was a key word in this situation, especially when applied to Wheeljack. He’d claimed it worked perfectly and had no flaws, but he had also claimed the same thing about the “Time Stasis Gun” that almost offlined the entire crew. Hopefully this one didn’t explode… or cause a spacetime anomaly.

It was a program that could be activated whenever, Ratchet just never did because why would he ever trust an untested program designed by Wheeljack. But looking down at this being he’d spontaneously decided to save, it was worth a shot. He sent out the command to turn it on. Now he just had to wait for it to get a grip on the new language.

Unfortunately for him, the little creature hadn’t been very talkative. There wasn’t much he could do about that. He ex-vented and decided to keep doing what he did best: mending the injured. And that limb really needed some straightening out. With the rest of the leftover scrap metal he had he tried to create a splint that would keep the limb secure. He’d seen the self healing capabilities of some organics before and hoped this one had that power too. Luckily, judging by the already scabbing cuts he’d cleaned, he wouldn’t have to worry about that.

“I’m going to have to put this on your broken limb, I promise it won’t hurt you.” He showed off the split in one servo, letting the thing look it over before he approached the injury. The thing made some unintelligible squeaks before bobbing their head up and down hesitantly. He took it as a good sign and began to slowly move toward the break. Still, they hesitated for a second, unwilling to expose such a vulnerable part of themself. He couldn’t blame them. Eventually they moved what they could of the damaged limb toward Ratchet.

He nodded gruffly, a clunky but seemingly appreciated gesture. With the splint in one servo he gently and carefully lifted their limb up. They grimaced and sharply sucked in air- he looked at them in worry, stopping immediately, but they gave him a “go on” motion. So he did, and through this slow and painful process he was able to attach the splint successfully. When he finally finished both parties smiled, the smaller half making little noises of supposed joy.

The translator hadn’t kicked in yet, but Ratchet didn’t get a second to question it because the creature started trying to get up. Obviously he dashed to settle them down, earning him a squeak of disapproval and cursing himself for being so brash. They seemed taken aback, predictably, but when he moved his servos back as fast as he could their face seemed to soften. They even smiled at him. Cute.

Soon they resigned to watching the forest once again, darkness still lapping at all sides. He watched their movements get slower as the time passed. They gave him as assessing look, one he could only describe as scrutinizing, but not long after they glanced at the splint, closed their little optics, and laid down. This nearly sent him into a panic thinking they had suddenly offlined, but calmed down after he remembered organics recharged often. Frankly, it was a relief. Not only were they getting some very needed rest, it seemed they trusted him enough to fall asleep in his presence. Now that’s progress.

In terms of energy, Ratchet was fine. Now that the chaos of the creature had calmed down, though, worry began to tiptoe back in his processor. He knew his friends would be okay, they always have. But that sound he heard before he went into stasis… it wasn’t his pod getting damaged, it was louder than the shots being fired before, it was more reminiscent of a ship being destroyed. Logically it would make sense. The Arc was already damaged and the Deceptions had the advantage, it would be perfectly possible that they… didn’t make it. He hadn’t gotten any signals or recorded any signs of mechanical life. They could be hurt and no one would be there to fix them, they could be gone for all he knew—

But Ratchet hadn’t made it this far in the war by worrying and doubting his friends. They’d made it, of course they did. If Optimus had a plan it must have worked. Still, with limited technology it would take a while to send out a distress signal powerful enough to reach space. For now, he’d just make sure the creature was safe and get back to work. Come next cycle he’d move back to the pod. He had faith his friends could hang on a little while longer.

———————

You weren’t expecting a reply and you didn’t get one. Not a verbal one, anyway. You stared at the thing and it stared back. It stared still for a couple minutes, which was incredibly off putting, but that was better than constantly screaming and shaking with fear. Eventually it breathed out, or something similar, because you really didn’t think breathing was something this thing could do. Suddenly it turned away and began tinkering again, which you found pretty rude, though it’s not like it could really tell you what it was going to do.

After a while it came back with a small gizmo of some sort. Looking closer there was something familiar about its shape, but you were distracted by the sounds of more metal scraping and whirring before you could really process what it was. The robot looked at you expectantly while it held the thing in its hand, this time realizing what it was trying to say. The “gizmo” was a splint. It wanted to put a splint in your leg.

You considered your options: Struggle and refuse to be treated by a giant robot, or let it touch your very broken leg. You didn’t like either option very much, but some treatment was better than none. There wasn’t much you had to lose anyway. You nodded, hoping to convey a “yes” or “okay”, and to your surprise it worked.

When it started to move closer you remembered one key problem you had with this. Broken leg hurts. Giant robot with big hands trying to put on a little thing on broken leg really hurts. Probably. You hesitate on offering your leg to it. However your choices were very limited, so you balled your hands into fists and tried to move your leg into the right position. While you hesitated, it waited patiently, something you were very grateful for. You were also grateful of the fact it was surprisingly gentle with you. It still hurt like a bitch, but the splint was eventually secured to your leg. You cheered when it was all over and smiled as bright as you could, and when you looked at its face, it smiled too.

It was such a relief to have something keeping your leg in place. It made you feel like you could actually get up! Actually, maybe you could! It was an idiotic decision and you knew that, but you did it anyway. Right after attempting to stand, you were greeted with the robot “gasping” (or something) and with lightning speed it pinned you back down. This came as a shock. It really shouldn’t have, but it did. You yelled a bit, obviously, and sat stunned for a second. Sure it shook you up, but apparently not as much as it did the robot. It seemed to take its hand away like it burned its fingers, now looking at you with… fear? Worry? It was kind of endearing.

You tried to comfort it with some soft words, though it didn’t seem to hear you over whatever it might’ve been thinking about. So you sighed and resigned to looking back up at the sky. The stars were on full display now. You liked to think of them as friends. They were always there no matter what, whether you could see them or not. They were beautiful in cosmic glory, yet small and subject to burning out at any moment. It was amazing, really.

Your stargaze was cut short when you were hit with a wave of fatigue, again unconsciousness coming to claim your mind. It was late, you supposed, and it didn’t seem like this thing was going to hurt you. You gave it a look over, but remembered how much it had helped you. So you laid back, using your hands as a pillow and closing your eyes. As much as a nightmare the past day had been, a small voice on the back of your head hoped it wasn’t a dream.

#transformers #tripleglitchwrites #g/t #transformers g/t #gn human reader #gn reader #ratchet #fun fact: I have a lot more planned out for this AU

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